[PFC] GM Granta's The Delirium's Tangle (#45) (Inactive)

Game Master Granta

Khellek examines the maze and contemplates options...
Know(arcana) at +12 here, but probably limited options for others to aid another. Khellek's ability to aid perception checks is limited though. That said, most pathfinders have a good perception so Hellena may be the best bet to lead.

He spends as much time as he can looking into the runes and sketching them down, but does his best to stay up with the rest of the group.

"Best stay together. Getting lost in here would be unfortunate."

Looks like we are decided - chuck in assists when you can :)

"An unusual aroma... perfume? I smell...roses"

Peception 1d20 + 13 ⇒ (16) + 13 = 29

Farlen smiles contently to follow and stay with the group.

"Ember, I like you positive thinking. Half the battle sometimes is keeping up a product approach. And yes we will find our minotaur friend."

"Does anyone else feel as if the floor and walls are shifting, or am I still feeling affects of the head knocking?"
perception aid: 1d20 ⇒ 17

Perception Aid: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (1) + 7 = 8 "Roses? Perfume? I'm thinkin' you've been gettin' too many love notes an flowers and its got yer nose all f!+@ed up, but if that's what you think then lead on. I'll just follow you all for now, but if you go n get us lost I'm doin' it my way!"

Ironshanks continues to take point and make the turns Hellena suggests. His axe and shield at the ready. "Oh, why don't you just hold onta this wand, just in case, for now. Use it if needed a course." He digs out and hands over the healing wand before continuing on.

"I'm with you, Farlen. This place is sickening to the eyes."

Perception Aid: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (11) + 3 = 14

Ember smirks a little after sniffing the air. "And I'm thinking you are simply unfamiliar with the smell of perfume, dwarf. Reasonable, I suppose, for roses cannot bloom in the dark of your people's citadels. Commit this smell to memory, friend. I'm sure love notes and flowers will come to a brave warrior such as yourself... eventually." His voice crackles with quiet laughter, making it obvious he's only joking.

Hellena takes the healing wand.

"Dwarven perfume isn's as popular - most mushrooms aren't so pleasant smelling"

"Dwarven perfume isn's as popular - most mushrooms aren't so pleasant smelling"

"Not pleasant smelling? You've never smelt a pan full of frying chanterelles in butter n cream! Or maybe the spicy white matsutaki? That one is more of a Tien thing though, but not bad if you like flavored rice."

He turns and scoffs at the half orc "Ironshanks' ain't never hurt fer no ladies. Dwarven women know what to look fer in a man, and it ain't roses and perfumes!" As he strokes his beard and flexes an impressive bicep.

Its funny the talk of mushrooms comes up, I'm a big mushroom forager, and chanterelles happen to be one of my favorites, very pleasant smelling.

perception aid: 1d20 - 1 ⇒ (9) - 1 = 8

"Perfume? What perfume? Have you seen these runes. I think if I try hard I can maybe understand how this maze works..."

No chance of using the knowledge as an aid-another given the object is to get through the maze? Oh well, worth asking

5 hours elapsed.

Hellena easily identifies the flowery scent of perfume amid the rotten refuse of the morlocks. The passageway seems to continue ahead as far as you can see. The imprint of a single hoof stands in the dust gathered along the left wall, as if it was heading into the wall.

Investigate if you wish, then roll another navigation check.

"A print on the wall? How curious. I wonder, was he trying to kick down the wall, walk through the wall, or did gravity work differently here and he walked on the wall itself."

Khellek inspects the wall closely, and checks for magical auras in the area.

will?: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (20) + 1 = 21

The hoofprint is on the floor, but facing toward the wall.

Khellek's inspection doesn't turn up any magic, illusory or not.

Hellena continues to follow her nose

Perception 1d20 + 13 ⇒ (8) + 13 = 21

"Doesn't seem as strong now, perhaps he was perspiring and it has faded? The hoofprint is reassuring though"

Ironshanks stops to take a look at the print once Khellek is finished with his mumbo-jumbo. Survival(track): 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (3) + 6 = 9

I was hoping to confirm that it was indeed a Minotaur track vs just some random hoof print, but pretty crappy roll there. Is it possible the only real dust present is along the edges making any prints in the middle hard to see?

Ironshanks looks up at the woman, again sniffing the air and fantasizing over beds of roses and perfumes and expensive wines, so he takes another sniff Perception Aid Perfume Sniffer: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (3) + 7 = 10 "I dunno 'bout you.. I smell somethin' in the air but I'm pretty sure its just cow sweat or old leather, but its comin' from that way." He points.

Farlen still just trying to not let the weird motion sensation make him sick. But does attempt to confirm the aroma direction to aid Hellena.
perception aid: 1d20 ⇒ 20
"I smell the aroma that way."
"Hellena do you see anything here like a secret door or a door in the ceiling? A hoof print on the wall might happen while climbing or if this wall slides I guess."

Perception Aid: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (17) + 3 = 20

Ember nods in the direction Ironshanks and Farlen point to. "Agreed. The trail continues, it seems. I would not be surprised if these walls shift just as the ground appears to do so. Perhaps there is a mechanism, or perhaps the mechanism is merely time itself. Whatever the case, I do not think we will be able to follow in the minotaur's hoofsteps past this point, but it is good to know we are headed in the right direction."

Ember adjusts his crossbow with one hand into a more comfortable position over one shoulder and frowns at the ebbing torchlight wielded in his other. "And that we may be close."

Oh, the hoof print is on the floor and towards the wall
"Sorry all. I see the print now. I thought I heard that it was on the wall, but now I see it looks like our minotaur friend headed into the wall. All the more reason to look for levers or hidden doors.
Farlen looks around and taps indentions in the wall looking for any trigger, hinge or crease.
I would much rather aid other in the secret door/trigger.
perceptio aid: 1d20 ⇒ 2

"Curious. Why would he face the wall here?" The scholar makes a note in his book, chalks the floor and then sniffs the air, just like he has been doing with the others.

He sneezes.

perception: 1d20 - 1 ⇒ (4) - 1 = 3

6 hours elapsed.

@Ironshanks: Yes, dust has collected along the walls where people aren't constantly brushing it away by walking.

Nobody is able to find any secret doors, but with help Hellena is able to find the perfume trail again. The tunnel makes four hard lefts before coming to an intersection. The remains of a bronze mechanism, recently destroyed, lies on the floor.

Roll navigation check #3.

Farlen examines the mechanism. "What do we have here?"
appraise: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (16) + 4 = 20

"Well, darn! This is excellently made and would bring a good price if not broken." "Maybe if we take it I could use a spell to fix it? But it may be more difficult then I think. I have a minor bit of magic that might do it."

Farlen sniffs the air.
perception aid: 1d20 ⇒ 7
"I can't smell the perfume anymore."

Perception 1d20 + 13 ⇒ (14) + 13 = 27

"I can. He's layered it on thicker than a Magnimarian harlot"

Khellek stops. "Wait!"

He looks back the way the group has come.

"We have gone left, four times in a row, and unless I miss counted, taken the same number of steps. I didn't notice the passage going up or down, so there is no way we should be an an intersection..."

He peers around, checking once again for both the presence of magic, and the presence of his chalk marks.

Perception Aid: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (19) + 7 = 26

"Now you've done it!" Ironshanks roars, looking back and forth between Khellek and Hellena "I smell yer damn roses and now I can't stop thinkin of whores!" He shifts his armor around uncomfortably. "Lets figure this damn maze out already and get some spendin money!"

He looks around for any more prints in the dust Survival: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (4) + 6 = 10

"Are you saying we have gone in a circle and the maze has changed." Garlen has a sinking feeling in his stomach that is not necessarily from walls moving. "Are you a hand at fixing thinks, Ironshanks." " Or anyone, this lever damaged may be a real problem."

Perception Aid: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (4) + 3 = 7

"Circles, heh. Our steps may be meaningless, scholar, with how the ground shifts like sand beneath our feet." Ember grins around his tusks at Ironshanks' remark, but the smile is humorless. He drops the spent torch in the center of the intersection and turns to examine the broken bronze mechanism. "I do not enjoy being toyed with, and this fragrant trail attempts to do just that. Whoever destroyed this lever did not want to see it used again. I doubt the prince would be so reckless. It would take time to fix, and I would prefer not to idle for long. But it is your call, friends."

He glares at the remains of the lever for a quiet moment before joining Khellek in scanning for magic.

"Or perhaps this mechanism attacked the prince?" suggests Khellek.

He looks around to see if there is any blood that may indicate a confrontation.

perception: 1d20 - 1 ⇒ (16) - 1 = 15

"Are you a hand at fixing thinks, Ironshanks."

Ironshanks will take the broken mechanism and look it over

7 hours elapsed.

Hellena continues to follow the scent trail without error. You come to a crossroads where the walls angle inward, but the ceiling soars to impossible heights. Looking up at it feels like peering over a cliff and looking at the ground thousands of feet below. A spatter of fresh blood marks the left wall.

Navigation check #4 coming up.

Farlen holds his quarter staff, closes his eyes and whispers an word that sounds like 'restore'.
Farlen uses his bonded item to cast mending from is spellbook attempting to mend the broken lever.
"This is the best I can do." "I hope it is powerful enough.

The scholar yawns loudly.

"Anyone elses feet ache? Last time I felt like this was after getting los... engrossed in the Overflow archives. It felt like I was walking for miles. Interesting that the mechanism was missing some pieces. Perhaps the Prince took some with him?"

He rummages around in his pack, taking out some trail rations.

"But hardships must be endured I guess."

He sits down to admire the view upwards while he has a snack.

"Did anyone bring some brandy? No? Pity." After a while Khellek gets back to his feet and once again tries to help with his sketches and such.

understand the maze (aid): 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (10) + 11 = 21

Sense Motive: 1d20 - 1 ⇒ (16) - 1 = 15

Ember chuckles at Ironshanks' reminiscing as he moves to assess Farlen's repairs. "You're welcome to throw your head against it if you wish, dwarf, though it wont achieve any more than Farlen's magic. Leave it, friend. If this device is missing pieces as the scholar claims, then it is beyond repair. Turning air into bronze is a feat even the so-called Father of Creation would not find easy."

Here's one for you :)

Ember's eyes burn as he refers to Torag almost mockingly, but a calm smile clings to his face even when he falls into stride alongside the others once more. Time seems to drag on until they arrive at yet another intersection. He smirks at Khellek's impromptu picnic, but joins him in staring upwards for a few moments. Finally, a change of scenery. "This much is nothing compared to crossing the rolling dunes of the Meraz, friend. Even so, I suppose it is about time for a short rest. I cannot shake from my mind the hoofprint we encountered earlier, and now..."

His eyes wander to the streaks of red splattered across a nearby wall. "As far as I am aware, the Minotaur Prince should not be capable of passing through cold stone. And as you pointed out, scholar, we had taken four left turns before stumbling upon the mechanism. Perhaps a path existed before where it no longer remains? I do not think the mechanism's breaking was a mere coincidence, and I worry our friend is not alone."

"Hmm, a maze that moves." ponders Khellek.

"That would certainly put paid to normal mundane methods for dealing with it. However such movement would also have rendered our attempts to track the Prince ... more difficult than we have so far encountered. Could the maze be existing in just our minds? Ahh, such speculation! Surely my mind would not conjure up such sore feet and tired legs."

Hellena laughs at the antics of her fellow party members, and their ongoing banter...

Perception 1d20 + 13 + 2 ⇒ (1) + 13 + 2 = 16

[ooc]Doubt a 16 is enough so...GM reroll! 1d20 + 13 + 5 ⇒ (10) + 13 + 5 = 28

"At least the odor is that of roses however ineffective at attracting the opposite sex because of its clumsy application. I would hate to think of other odors our minotaur friend could be emitting that would allow us to follow."
Farlen also sits and pulls out a chunk dried beef. He takes a long swig of water and closes his eyes to relax for a second.
"I can't help but think that lever is important" "I wish I had known all the pieces were not there"
perception aid: 1d20 ⇒ 10
"Yep it is that way."

8 hours elapsed

@Farlen: Assume Khellek's and Ember's comments occurred before you cast mending.

The constant, curving sides of this passage close in with every step, until you have to squeeze and crawl single file to get through. What was once a concealed door is broken and left ajar with a tuft of white hair caught in the latch.

Navigation check #5

Earlier
Sense Motive: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (19) + 2 = 21

Ironshanks eyes Ember and lets forth a "Hrmph" of his own as they start off again from their break.

Present
Ironshanks crawls along at the front of the group, his axe sheathed on his back but his shield still in his grasp, doing his best to keep an eye out for anything ahead of them... traps in particular. Perception Traps: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (16) + 7 = 23

"Holy hells, if this place gets any tighter there be no turnin 'round if it dead ends!" He looks back to make sure the group is following, especially Hellena and her flowery nose right behind him. "Good thing I took care 'a business before we started else I think I'd have ruined that nose of yers by now Lady!" He lets out a hearty guffah that echoes down the tunnel.

He stops at the door "We got a door here! With white fur in it! This may be the place!" He takes a sniff for roses. Perception Aide: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (18) + 7 = 25

"Unless of course the maze is trying to mislead us... showing us that which we hope to see. A sentient maze... that would be quite something.." suggests an increasingly paranoid scholar.

aid (understand the maze): 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (19) + 11 = 30

Perception 1d20 + 13 + 2 + 2 + 2 ⇒ (19) + 13 + 2 + 2 + 2 = 38

"True, the scent of roses is a far more pleasant scent to follow than other bovine aromas. Of course the dietary habits of the average dwarven worker would lead to worse smells that can be sure - we'd smell leftover bovine through a very different state of being. Quite some maze, and a sentient one would be quite something indeed, as would be the mind who could design such a thing"

Perception Aid: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (12) + 3 = 15
Make that a 40, pretty sure you nailed it :P

"Quite something, sure, but I wouldn't praise its intelligence. To lure us into these twisting passages after all this while with such pitiful attacks at our sense of direction is almost endearing. Only fools toy with their food."

He frowns, wondering concernedly for a moment if they were the fools for being driven here. "Bah, no point in losing conviction," he mutters, brightly striking up his final torch and covering the rear. "A door with fur in it, you say, dwarf. Nuar is the color of snow, so we may be close yet."

9 hours elapsed.

Six passageways flow together like a river in this chamber and seem to subtly shift and move. When you walk toward a path, it always seems to be a little more to the right than you though. A large, bloody handprint is the only landmark that remains constant.

Navigation check #6.

Perception 1d20 + 13 ⇒ (14) + 13 = 27

"Still have him this way - not so sure that bloody handprint is too comforting though"

Khellek yawns. "This maze seems to be without end. I can see why they picked us. Surely many a person would have given up well before this time."

aid (understand the maze): 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (11) + 11 = 22

He inspects the bloody handprint.

"I wonder how he came on the injury, or whether this was an important point for the prince to mark."

Once again he checks the area for magic, or any other sign of blood.

When the narrow hallway opens up into the large cavern an audible cheer can be heard from the Dwarf as he gets up and stretches his back and neck from being stooped over. "Holy s~~+, imagine what that overgrown burger went through gettin' down that hall!" He takes a look at the bloody handprint. "Maybe he cut his hand bustin' down that door back there.

Perception Aid: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (5) + 7 = 12 "I think I'm sniffin' my nose bloody here! That beefsteak better be 'round the next corner..." As he gets his axe back out and adjusts his equipment.

10 hours elapsed. Assume you woke up 2 hours before entering the tunnels, so you are 12 hours into the day. Time to start thinking about when/how it'll end.

Hellena continues to follow the scent trail without too much difficulty, but abruptly runs face first into a smooth, white wall that somehow nobody noticed. You've reached a dead end.

Farlen has trouble undetstanding how everyone missed the wall. He has decided he is not a maze connesoir sentient or simple. His head hurts his feet and legs are tired. Maybe the group should set watches and rest.
"This wall is an unfortunate set back. But maybe we should find a good defendable deadend to camp in. Hey, like this one we now find ourselves in.
Farlen detects magic directing thw cone at the walls.

Ember rolls his shoulders, glad to be out of the narrow passage that forced him to squeeze and stoop. He was used to walking long distances in harsher climates with little to drink, but the never ending pathways and claustrophobic tunnels of the maze were beginning to eat away at his patience. How I wish to gaze upon the brilliance of the rising sun. Everlight, grant me strength in these accursed depths.

He frowns when the party draws to a stop in front of him, turning his scowl quickly to the wall that looms ahead. A low rumbling sounds in his throat as he instinctively joins Farlen in the detecting of magics. "I refuse to believe our trail ends here," he grumbles, his voice crackling like a gentle bonfire. "And I refuse to allow this loathsome assembly of twisting tunnels to toy with our minds. Fresh streaks of spilled blood, a discarded scrap of milky fur, a handprint marked solidly in red. These clues are too convenient and cryptic for my liking. It will not be much longer before I begin to doubt if a minotaur can even possess fingered hands."

Embers sighs, his voice softening when he resolves not to let his agitation get the better of him. "Yes, friend," he agrees with a nod towards Farlen, "perhaps here would be a good spot to make camp. It may be better to continue on when our minds and bodies aren't so dulled by the advance of fatigue. If you wish to rest, let us do so. Eat, sleep. I will keep watch for a few hours more. I have many things I must think about."

He blows out the dwindling flame that clings to the torch held in one hand, gripping his crossbow with the other and examining the faces of the group.

"It has been a long day" agrees the middle aged scholar.

"However I cannot help but hope that the end to our quest is near. If we have the energy we should press onward for another hour or so. Then, if needs be we can rest. I would feel a fool to round a corner after resting to find a still warm camp fire where the Prince himself rested."

Are we at risk of becoming fatigued if we press onward at this stage? Also this maybe my last post for a week or so, I'm not sure how good the internet is where we are heading off to.

"Then lets take a halt here and rest up, no point pushing on and befalling a terrible fate"

Ironshanks growls at the dead end. "I thought you said the perfume came this way? There must be some sort of secret door here, spread out and search every inch! If we can't find it then so be it we'll make camp."

Ironshanks scours the end of the hallway, pouring over every inch and tapping the stone with the back of his axehead hoping to find something they missed. Take 20 for a 22