nightflier |
Will save 1d20+4
+4 if magical.
Well ultimate failure right there. Total 9
Dwarf stands at the entrance - unmoving like a stone figure. Whispers of his ancestor - the progenitor of his race - fall on his ears like dead leaves in the pool of Dark God's blood. Bloody tears start to run from his eyes and to drip on his beard. He suddenly faints.
Gilian |
Sorok Hamfael wrote:Dwarf stands at the entrance - unmoving like a stone figure. Whispers of his ancestor - the progenitor of his race - fall on his ears like dead leaves in the pool of Dark God's blood. Bloody tears start to run from his eyes and to drip on his beard. He suddenly faints.Will save 1d20+4
+4 if magical.
Well ultimate failure right there. Total 9
Gilian has moved boldly in the darnkess when she hears the sound of the dwarf body hitting the ground. moving back to the entrance, she looks over the body for anything that could have caused that.
Heal check 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (14) + 11 = 25
Chops the Defender Dworg |
Pete elbows past Chops. "Don't worry, little girl. I go first, any nasty shadows will have to go past me," he whispers to Chops with a wink.
Chuckling, Chops says, "Very funny, big guy. Very funny."
Following Pete, Chops keeps his eyes, ears, and nose alert for trouble. He quietly moves through the darkness, keeping careful not to make a sound.
Perception 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (18) + 6 = 24
Stealth 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (12) + 8 = 20
Gilian |
Gilian looks up from her kneeling position by Sorok's body and spots the two Dorns at the rear of the group.
"Ragnar and Anvinder, Sorok has just fainted. I thought he was all fired to go back down. I was told dwarves were more resitant thant that. Can you carry him down?"
nightflier |
FYI, In my neck of the woods, "passed away" is a euphemism for "died". For a second there I thought I was playing Call of Cthulu. I admit, my skin crawled.
Yeah, sorry about that. I am so tired that I'm mixing idioms. My work load just got doubled, and I'm trying to keep up with everything - and English is not my first tongue, after all.
Sorok Hamfael |
Feeling the kick to his side, Sorok's eyes snap open. The images of blood and the progenitor quickly fade from his mind, but the laughter from the engulfing darkness lingers in his mind as he looks around.
"Again?" he mutters under his breath, and picks himself off the ground.
You have my thanks yet again Anvinder. Thus far I've been little more than a burden to you all, I'll make sure your efforts are not in vain.
nightflier |
Halfling deftly disarms the trap that would collapse the tunnel and then he slowly continues forward into dark. After a twenty yards or so, he finds himself faced with huge slab of rusted iron blocking the tunnel. Iron plate seems to be etched with acid into vile shapes and letters in some to Pete unknown tongue.
Anvinder |
Feeling the kick to his side, Sorok's eyes snap open. The images of blood and the progenitor quickly fade from his mind, but the laughter from the engulfing darkness lingers in his mind as he looks around.
"Again?" he mutters under his breath, and picks himself off the ground.
You have my thanks yet again Anvinder. Thus far I've been little more than a burden to you all, I'll make sure your efforts are not in vain.
Anvinder does not respond. He sighs and continues to walk on, not making any effort to help the dwarf off the ground.
Ragnar Death-Speaker |
Ilona walks back whilter others investigate the trap, noting the exchange. Leaning up to Ragnar she whispers.
"He was imprisoned by dwarves." Ragnar says, shaking his head with resignation. "I know not why they are called Black Blood, but I would guess it is not a term of endearment. Trust is not quickly earned among my people."
Gilian |
As Sorok is woken up by the Dorn Dreamer, Gilian watches Anvinder with a half-puzzled, half bemused expression. "Your methods are strange but very efficient. He should not have woken up so quickly. How can you do that? And if I may, you were complaining about a lack of acknowledgment for your help before. Perhaps a more gentle touch would help that..."
She then moves down the tunnel to reach Chops and Pete. As the writing on the metal door does not mean anything to her, she calls back.
"Solvistania, Sorok, can you make anything of what's written on this door?"
Ragnar Death-Speaker |
Seeing the the group is stopped on the landing below, Ragnar waits for a few moments, then looks at Ilona, then back down to the group. Something scrapes along the wall.
"Shhh." He hisses. "I can't hear what they're saying."
The noise doesn't quiet in the slightest, but his hood does tug itself back, pushed by some unseen hand. Ragnar grumbles and pulls it back up, then tries as best he can to crouch on the stairs to get a view of the wall blocking their way. After a brief struggle against his own height and the slant of the stairs, he grunts and leans to the side to get his head even lower for a better look.
His hood tugs itself even lower down his face, covering his eyes. He tries to push it back, but he tips as if pushed by something, overbalancing him just enough to trip him to the side and leave him sitting on the steps, his head lightly smacking the wall.
He stiffens, then sighs heavily.
Anvinder |
As Sorok is woken up by the Dorn Dreamer, Gilian watches Anvinder with a half-puzzled, half bemused expression. "Your methods are strange but very efficient. He should not have woken up so quickly. How can you do that? And if I may, you were complaining about a lack of acknowledgment for your help before. Perhaps a more gentle touch would help that..."
She then moves down the tunnel to reach Chops and Pete. As the writing on the metal door does not mean anything to her, she calls back.
"Solvistania, Sorok, can you make anything of what's written on this door?"
"For your people, yes, a gentle touch would do. For mine we are more stubern and need more rousing. His people... pointing to Sorok "deserve no better." Anvinder says his people with a sneer but talks to Gillian with respect.
Chops the Defender Dworg |
"Unless one of you has has magic capable of bypassing the locks on this barrier, the only recourse I see is to either break this door down, or offers our prayers to the Shadow god.". You can tell by the tone of her voice, the first option is far preferable than the second.
"Well I'm not praying to no shadow god, so here goes nothing. Ragnar, Sorok. You in?" Chops walks back about 15 feet from the door, turns around and runs at it. Then he leaps at it with a flying kick to the center of the rusted iron door.
I don't know if attack rolls are necessary to hit a door, but just in case...
Attack 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (10) + 8 = 18
damage 1d6 + 1d12 + 3 ⇒ (5) + (5) + 3 = 13