Dean examines the items Reynard retrieved, searching for arcane auras.
Nothing, apart from the obvious auras of the scroll and the wand....
"Let's see what we have here," Dean murmurs, unrolling the scroll. "Hope it's not explosive runes."
"You say this wand is magical? May I examine it?" Wits holds the wand, examining it at length attempting to discern its function.
Appraise (to Identify):
Also, Wits would like to examine the book and wine. The book to see what it says, the wine to see the vintage and whether the bottle survived intact.
"You say this wand is magical? May I examine it?" Wits holds the wand, examining it at length attempting to discern its function.
The book is a bestiary of archaic and quite nasty form. A person of religious persuasion will probably be bale to tell you more, or a collector, but it looks to be worth some money.
The wine is a fairly nice, and definitely recent variety. It has been introduced into the dungeon, certainly in the last two years, most likely much more recently than that. Which is odd, when everything else is much older....
"Let me take a look at that book, my good Wits," Dean says, leaning over and removing it from the gnome's hands.
"Ah, yes. I'd like that back when you are finished examining it, please. Some of the drawings may hold the key to a particular issue I've been having with mutation duration.."
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"Let me take a look at that book, my good Wits," Dean says, leaning over and removing it from the gnome's hands. 1d20+4
The book reads as much like a bestiary of the world’s most horrifi c and cruel monsters (along with numerous woodcut illustrations of how they kill) as it does a religious text. But it clearly is supposed to represent the teachings of Lamashtu, Mother of Monsters...
"By the looks of that wine, sombody's been down here recently, can't quite see one of these monsters having a taste for a descent vintage."
Dean gingerly hands the text back to Wits, a look of distaste on his face. "I'd take care how much you choose to learn from that book, my friend. It's a religious text of the evil goddess of monsters." His expression changes. "Not that it wouldn't be worth a pretty penny from the right buyer." He turns to Reynard. "Agreed. All this," he motions about him at the catacombs, "has been down here for centuries without troubling Sandpoint. It can't be mere coincidence that no one has run across it until the unpleasantness at the parade." He sighs. "If only I'd known all this was down here, in my own backyard, so to speak, I shouldn't have had to go so far afield in search of valuable relics. Oh well." He heaves up his mutated goblin corpse once more. "Shall we go back and try that other door? I'm very curious to know if there's another entrance to this place other than the one in the Glassworks."
Returning to the previous unexplored room, reveals the crumbling remnants of several chairs and a long table cluttering the floor. To the south stand three stone doors, each bearing a strange symbol that resembles a seven-pointed star.
Beyond the doors lies what were once prison cells. Within each is a single skeleton of a badly deformed humanoid; one has three arms, another has an enormous misshapen skull, and the third has a ribcage that goes all the way down to its pelvis—a pelvis with stunted legbones strewn below its strangely flat girth.
"Fascinating." Wits stares at the skeletons in the cells, mentally memorizing the scene and the strange mutations in his mind. Finishing this, he joins the room search.
Perception:
"Wits, my friend, we've hit the motherlode," Dean cries in delight as he sees the skeletons. "And what's this?" He pulls a scroll carefully from beneath the remains of a crumbled chair and unrolls it gingerly. "These runes are ancient. Anyone care to take a look?"
"Whoa! What the....? You know, this place just gets more freakish, the more we uncover." Then responding to Dean's question, "Not me. I don't know anything about ancient runes."
"I'm afraid I'm not versed in such things. Specialization being what it is, no time for it. However, I do agree: this place is strange. Odd that an experimental station of such complexity and obvious success should exist unknown under a town of relative size and age as Sandpoint without anyone discovering it before now. I admit, the bottle of wine does suggest that we are not the first, and the presence of the mutant goblinoid does also suggest that said discoverers were planning on returning. As it is, I see no food sources for the creature, so perhaps they are still here in the complex? I would very much like to meet the master of this house..."
Dean moves in to examine the skeletons in the prison cells more closely. "Look here, Wits, would you say these mutations were natural, or the result of chemical agents -- or perhaps more crude surgical techniques? That is, did whoever imprisoned these creatures search them out for their mutations, like some kind of collector, or did he do this to them?"
"Because the thing is," Dean continues as he stands up, "these skeletons have been dry bones for quite some time. That goblin, on the other hand, was very much alive before we remedied that little problem. So, a long time ago, someone was in here with mutations; and now ... has someone discovered this place and picked up where the original occupant left off?"
"Indeed. Let us explore that passage that still remains. Perhaps the master of this house of oddness awaits us there."
Dean takes up his precious dead goblin once again. "You, my friends," he gives the imprisoned skeletons a remorseful glance, "I'll have to come back for. I'll be happy to provide light for whoever wants to take the lead, but with this burden, I'd prefer to bring up the rear."
"I'll go first, no problem. You just keep the light up, Dean, and we'll be good to go."
Winding back through the tunnels is uneventful, and easy. Once away from the zombies, the place goes deathly quiet again, the rock absorbing all noise.
The tunnel widens here into what appears to have once been a small shrine,
for to the northeast steps lead up to a platform of gray stone. Sitting atop the platform is an ancient altar, little more than a jagged block of black marble with a shallow concavity on top of it. This basin is filled with what appears to be filthy water.
"For once, at least we aren't getting jumped by something freakish. Outside of the dirty old bath water, we're good!" Sounding pleasantly surprised they aren't getting attacked by some type of abomination creature.
"For once, at least we aren't getting jumped by something freakish. Outside of the dirty old bath water, we're good!" Sounding pleasantly surprised they aren't getting attacked by some type of abomination creature.
Wits steps into the room, examining everything intently. "Indeed. I feel somewhat disappointed not to encounter some new variety of creature or monstrous remains in this room. Oh well, I suppose I should be grateful to have time to digest what I've already learned, rather than acquiring new specimens."
Wits will move to the fountain and peer inside, going so far as to stir the water with a crossbow bolt to see if activity ensues.
Untrained Knowledge: Religion
Emmanuel bends down and watches Wits stir the water, "That's pretty gross, Wits. Although, I guess I should be grateful. At least you're not collecting it in your waterskin!" He smiles and gives him a big slap on the back.
There are a pair of double doors in front of you. What will you do?
"Of course not! One collects specimens in a vial, not a waterskin." Wits will remove some of the water, dipping a vial into it to fill it up.
"Luc, this looks like a challenge up your alley," Dean invites, as he steps forward to examine the doors.
"Perhaps one is meant to approach with clean hands?" he surmises, looking from the basin to the doors.
1d20+8
A single rune is carved deeply into the stone over both doors. It obviously had significance to someone, and the purpose of the room, but that significance is lost in time.
Reynard reloads his crossbow as her waits for the doors to be opened.
Up to date list of the encounters, the stuff you've found, and the XP you've gained. This is definitive XP wise, it may be wrong, but it's the way it is now ;)
"Well, Emanuel," Dean suggests as he steps back from the doors, "I didn't see anything suspicious. Do you want to do the honors?"
"Don't mind if I do." Emanual kicks open the doors with a size 14 and steps forward with his greatsword at the ready. "Let's see what's cookin' behind door number two!" He finishes with a horrible attempt at poetry.
The double doors crash open with a resounding bang. Whatever has been done to these doors to make them open smoothly, works just as well here, as it did earlier.
This huge room looks like nothing more than an immense underground cathedral. Stone doors stand to either side of the main entrance, but beyond this, the walls are carved with strange, spiky runes. In the centre of the room is a large pool, a ring of polished human skulls balanced on stone spikes arranged in a circle around the deeper midsection. At the far end of the room, a pair of stone stairways leads up to a pulpit on which sits a second pool, this one triangular and filled with churning, bubbling water that looks almost like translucent lava. Yet while wisps of what look like heat and steam rise from the strange orange liquid, the room itself is deathly cold.
"Well, this room certainly does not disappoint! Hello? Is the Master of this house here? We retrieved a bottle of wine you may wish to have, as well as a dead raven you certainly do not wish to have. Anyone home?" Wits calls out to the room, searching for the mystery owner.
Init:
Leaving his dead goblin outside for safe keeping, Dean cautiously slips into the room, setting a bolt into his crossbow.
Emanuel walks forward towards the pool and looks in.
Reynard walks 10 ft into the room, crossbow cocked as he stands in the center of the doorway
As you enter the room, from the far end you hear a high pitched, female sounding screech. "You dare to intrude upon the Mother’s sanctum? You will die!"
Hovering above the pulpit is a small creature, ram horns curving back from it's head and lank hair hanging down. It has small wings that flutter fitfully.
Knowledge (untrained):
"I say! A denizen of the Abyss. Greetings, denizen! Exactly who is this Mother of which you speak?"
Knowledge (untrained): 1d20+3
"I say! A denizen of the Abyss. Greetings, denizen! Exactly who is this Mother of which you speak?"
Is that your whole action, sir?
Wits will draw his crossbow, but keep it lowered and not pointing at the creature. That will complete his actions.
"Die? We all shall one day, my diminutive friend. There's no call for that today, though. We are mere seekers after knowledge. I, like my companion, am most interested in hearing about your 'Mother.'"
As you enter the room, from the far end you hear a high pitched, female sounding screech. "You dare to intrude upon the Mother’s sanctum? You will die!"
"Well I would hate for that to happen before I opened up my restaurant now would I?"
Emanuel hefts his greatsword and walks over to begin ascending the stairs.
Luc also walks into the room, taking a position flanking the door, and fitting a crossbow bolt into place.
The Quasit takes a small, but very elaborate dagger from a sheath at her waist, and slowly cuts into her own palm, watching you all intently all the while. The action is slow, and almost defiant. A single drop of blood falls from her palm, into the orange waters below, and as it touches, the waters boil and bubble.
At first, this seems to be all that happens, but then a deformed head rises from the water, it's tri-fold mouth gaping in hunger, and soon, yet another of the beasts that have been guarding the catacombs emerges.
The spawn moves towards to the head of the steps that Emanuel is about the ascend. As it moves out, the Quasit vanishes...
Round 2.
Perception:
"I say! That is a cause for study, is it not?"
Wits will raise his crossbow and fire at the spawn!
Attack:
Damage: