Savendir swipes at the approaching wererat with the magical flames enveloping his hand.
He steps carefully out of the flank and swipes again with the fire.
fire on a hit.
Owen blinks out of existence, then reappears further up the stairs, taking a step back and loosing an arrow from his battered shortbow.
The wererats sneer as the manage to avoid Savendir and Owen's attacks.
Initiative order
Nyxalia
End Round 5
Savendir (miss)
Ulath
Ilias
Zarine
Owen (miss)
wererats
[dice=Kukri atk]1d20 + 7 + 1 +2
[dice=dmg]1d4 + 3
[dice=sneak damage if applicable]2d6
Initiative order
Nyxalia
End Round 5
Savendir (miss)
Ulath (still has full action waiting to see if anyone moves into flank)
Ilias
Zarine
Owen (miss)
wererats
The stout dwarf nods to the ladies beside him, after his blow goes ridiculously wide. Letting the momentum take him after the swing he 'tumbles' down the stairs. Although that may be a generous description of the flailing arms and stout form that falls down the stairs inelegantly.
However Ilias seeing that they are lacking the punching power to take the vile vermin down, draws upon his knowledge of the arcane and imbues Zarine with mystical strength to achieve their aims.
Zarine steels herself for another attack, watching the nearest opponent carefully. As she feels the vigor from Ilias' magic bolster her limbs, she flows down the stairs and past her opponent in a whirl of veils and flashing steel. She cuts at the wererat from opposite Ulath, then slips past Savendir to make room for Nyxalia.
Nyxalia moves in to flank with either Ulath (if G2 is standing) or Zarine (if G2 is down).
The wererat strikes at Ulath as he moves away. Ulath proves to be too swift and avoids the feeble thrust. Zarine moves in and cuts down the first wererat. She then moves into position and allows Nyxalia to gain the flank. While Nyaxlia lands some of her blows, the wererat's thick hide proves too tough. Summoning up her mythic reserve gives Nyxalia the right weapon to cut through the rat's defenses. It yelps in pain. Zarine takes advantage to land another killing blow, The last wererat crumples into a heap.
"Is everyone alright?" Savendir asks with concern. "Was anyone bitten?"
"A few scrapes and bites, been int' worse scraps." Ulath states in his dour understated tones, bushing off his clothes and getting a rag out to clean his axe-head.
Looking down at the ratmen and poking them with his boot, he asks: "Any clue who the blighters were, think they're the rapscallions o' t' Brothers of The Seal & thus mates of that Max bloke we're looking for?"
"A few scrapes and bites, been int' worse scraps."
Owen narrows his eyes at the dwarven druid and speaks to Savendir.
"Elf-- is this one infected?"
Panting heavily, Zarine takes a few moments to let the adrenaline pass before examining her flowing robes and veil. She pulls up a bloodied sleeve to expose the mark of two sharp incisors.
"Blast and damn."
"Ouch, lass that looks a bit nasty. I've got a couple of spells that may heal thee. Anyone else?" He asks around the group. He then rummages around in his small pack for a twisted wooden stick.
To Owen's question, Savendir says, "If these shapeshifters are werecreatures, I have heard the taint is infectious. But I do not know what truth there is to the tales. It would be wise to have a healer or arcanist experienced in these matters examine your wounds."
"Reet, in t' morning I'll get mesenth seen to. First things first..." Holding the gnarled stick the stoic carpenter mumbles a few words, his wounds knit together and bruises fade. Then he holds it towards Zarine questioningly.
"If we are well enough, we should continue. We must push our advantage and seek out our quarry before the trail runs cold."
"If we are well enough, we should continue. We must push our advantage and seek out our quarry before the trail runs cold."
Owen nods, saying nothing. Though his breathing is as slow and measured as always, he appears pale and drained.
The wererat's corpses turn back into their human form. Leaving them behind, you continue down the spiral stair case. Once again, all is silent except for your footsteps. You do not come across any other creatures as you descend further.
You travel another half hour when you come across an old door on the left hand wall. It is a solid, heavy wooden door on large iron hinges. The spiral stair case continues downward toward the right.
Ulath looks at the door carefully, especially the hinges. "So it's a pull door, best check it out."
The dwarf rummages for a bit of lamp oil, dabbing it on the hinges to reduce potential squeaks amongst the ratmens' lair, then stands a few steps down the stairs ready to slam open.
"Any of thee half-capable wit locks?" he asks.
"Locks, no, but I can see if it is trapped," Savendir responds. He searches the door to make sure it is safe. (And to see if it is even locked to begin with.)
Owen mumbles something about taking a look later, then sits down on the stairs and begins silently counting the knots in his rope.
"Certainly, let me look," Zarine nods to Ulath, joining Savendir at the door.
The door does not appear to be trapped, but it is locked. After a small amount of work, the lock yields to Zarine's lock picking skills with a click.
Ulath steels himself as he awaits the door to be opened & reveal what's within.
"Well if it's safe..." Ulath grabs the handle and twists carefully ensuring a smooth motion in case of the doors age and consequent decrepitude. His eyes narrow as he peers into the room but he steps back so Owen and the others can also gain a measure of entry to the newly revealed area.
The door opens to reveal a small landing illuminated only by the light spilling in from the hall outside. Stairs descend downward into darkness after about 5 steps. Along the sides of the landing, a thick coating of dust can be seen. However, a path through the middle of the landing is dust free. No sound can be heard.
"Hmmmph, look like we could follow t' well-used route. Tho' we should take care o' traps, blighters tha' infest here are bound to leave some around." He looks to Zarine & Owen to see if they agree with his assessment.
"I agree," Savendir says. "They may have left traps, and they may know the way past them, if this route is used often. Be on your guards."
Ulath moves on down the steps, with a certain phlegmatic caution, mentally noting that they weren't quite built for dwarven legs. Placing one hand near to the haft of his axe, though he's more worried about pitfalls than pouncing vermin.
Ilias and Nyxalia offer to stay at the top of the stairs to keep watch while the rest of your descend the side stairway. With Ulath leading the way you begin your descent into the darkness. You hear no sound except for your footsteps on the stone steps and your breathing. You descend for about 15 minutes before coming to another landing and a door.
Ulath puts his hands on his thighs, creasing over slightly as the stairs and constant nervous tension has winded him. However determined not to let it show too much he eyes up the door for more traps.
"Think we need any mystic protections afore entering 'ere? Or maybe t' door yields to their accoutrements."
"That depends on what lies beyond this door," Savendir whispers. "This descent seems interminable, and I hold out little hope we have reached the end."
"You had better let me test the safety of this door as well," Zarine murmurs, slipping between the men to carefully approach the door, tools in hand. "And help the lock along if need be."
Zarine examines the door. She does not see any traps. However, she does spy something odd. While the door is made of heavy oak, and the iron door latch and hinges are caked with a thick layer of rust, the door lock appears to be relatively new. Pushing on the door, reveals that it is locked. She tries to pick it but she is unable to bypass the mechanism on her first attempt.
Zarine points out the lock to Savendir and Ulath. "New," she whispers. "If you will give me a moment, good sirs, we'll be in soon."
It takes, quite a bit of work, but finally the lock yields to Zarine's skill with a satisfying click. Zarine opens the door. The room is completely dark. Those with dark vision can make out a stone block wall 15 feet from the entrance. From your vantage point you cannot see a wall on either side.
Nodding as Zarine takes command of the door opening, he politely takes a step back to give her some room. Tapping his lips in appreciation at the excellent job she does unlocking the door.
"Well done, careful if there's no floor." He says quitely, peering into the gloom; "I'd be happy to go first, if tha' wants?"
"I will follow," Savendir says. "A bit of light may be in order." He casts light on the hilt of his scimitar.
The light from Savendir's hilt reveals more detail beyond the door. The door opens into a hallway 15 feet wide. The hallway goes down 15 feet in either direction and then makes a turn. A layer of dust covers most of the floor, except for a line clear of dust to the right.
Savendir regards the hallway warily. "Shall we follow the tracks? It almost seems too perfect."
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"Perhaps they did not expect anyone to be able to open that rather excellent lock," Zarine murmurs with some satisfaction as she rolls up her set of delicate instruments and stashes it in some pocket or other within her flowing garments. "Yes, let us follow with our eyes wide open. I can see without the light, if you would like me to scout ahead and check the way," she offers, still keeping her voice low.
"See any prints in tracks, or tail swishes?" Ulath whispers.
"Can you see in t' dark and be as quiet as well as you slip thro' locked doors?" He asks Zarine about her scouting plan.
Ulath does not see any tail swishes or distinct footprints.
Ulath's keen tracking skills leads him to conclude that the path has been formed by frequent trips back and forth through this area.
"I can't say I trust a path where even the denizens of this place do not go. Let us follow the worn path," Savendir says.