"All I know is a team of specialists were here up until a couple days back. They were on a job to get the statue, nothing else. They went in the sewers, came back to grab their stuff, and I haven’t seen them since. Either it’s a lot more valuable than it looked, or maybe you’re right about it being magic. Either way," He spits through the hinged jaw of his mask in Phedran’s face, the saliva mixed with blood. "If the Grey Master’s men want something gone, it’s above my pay grade."
|
MASSIVE CRITICAL DAMAGE
Phedran wipes the spit off his face, then uses the same hand to strikes the bound man for his slight. Immediately after, the alchemist is filled with a combination of horrible shame at losing his temper, and a throbbing pain from the futile act of striking the side of a face mask.
He stands up, dusts off his knees, and is visibly flustered. "I... He... I just need some air. My usual good humours have all but vacated me..." He rummages through his apothecary bag, grabs a small unmarked vial, and chokes down the substance. "I... I'll be outside."
Hank watches Phedran leave with an impressed look on his face. After seeing Belliken go after those other bandits, he's now seen the good doctor let loose on one, too. Not with a crossbow. But still.
"Um, so. The sewers. I guess we can find them on our own. Uh. What else should we know about? Also, um. Goodbye? Uh. Can I... may I... I'm gonna..."
He turns green. Good color, for a druid.
"...I'm thinkin' bout sendin' you to your gods. That ok with you?"
He draws his scimitar and approaches the guildsman.
"An' save yer spit, I get spit on all the time and it don't phase me none."
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Damn right you get spit on all the time
The man faces his death with resolute silence. He slumps down slightly, the dispassionate face of the mask gazing across the now-silent room.
Hank is a little shaky, but he also feels kinda tough... "See? I'm a tough killer like you guys. Druids..." he tries to flash his eyes intensely, even though they are a little shiny... "we're always neutral."
Belliken takes the mask, was there anything else on him of note?
Hank will ask Belliken, "Hey, what was magic in the box? Can ya sniff it out?"
The remains of the lock still give off an aura of abjuration magic, but there is something else. One of the gems, a nearly transparent pearly white elipsoid, gives off an aura of faint conjuration.
The man has nothing else on him.
It is feeling like we are always at least 1 step behind! We keep feeling like we are close then poof it is running away in the sewer. We made this city a better place by removing a guild of thugs, but we have a trail to follow. Karthurg seems frustrated to be too late... again.
|
|
His temper subsided, Phedran comes back into the guild hideout. "Apologies for that outburst, I... he stops when he sees the dead guildmember.
"Oh. I suppose I shouldn't be that upset, then. Hrm." He steps over the feet of the dead man, and examines the contents of the box. "A most curious object, I could perhaps discern it's magical properties, assuming it has any, but it would certainly have to wait until tomorrow. I'd need to brew a particular extract in order to do so."
He regards the other party members, and motions towards the door. "If we're all but done here, I think we should follow the trail while it's still warm. Warm, and... smelly."
Oi I can give 'em a looksee now that we got a chance to rest. I'd like to sit down and rest a bit anyway. Hand 'em over.
Belliken sits the lock box on the ground and sits beside it. He closes his eyes and concentrates on the two magical items before him.
The lock appears to have been protected with arcane lock. The gem, however, remains a mystery.
The sewer grate is easily opened. The late afternoon sun illuminates the top of a ladder, which seems to reach down about ten feet into a dark, foul-smelling tunnel.
This feels more like what I am used to... lets get a move on! Maybe we will finally get ahead of this problem. Karthurg takes the lead by climbing down the ladder.
|
|
Phedran adjusts the collar on his shirt, needlessly primping it before entering the disgusting sewer-way.
He waves a hand towards the ladder, motioning to the the halflings. "Probably best to let the ranger do his thing and range ahead of us, but we shouldn't dally." His nose wrinkles, and he shakes his head to clear it of the foul odour. "I'm sure I have some sort of ammonia salts or something to deal with the stench if need be..."
Hank shakes the vision of the dying Aracus guildsman out of his head... and looks dubiously at the stinky hole in the ground.
"Oy, Cammy, get in thar, you!"
I stare at Hank. I do not move towards the sewer.
"...I reck we gotta get Cammy down somehow, or leave 'im up here."
" Looks like this box has got some sort of magical lock on it, won't open for nobody unless they got a knock or dispel magic spell on em. Anyone got that trick up their sleeve?
Belliken looks down the sewer ladder and almost retches. After gaining his composure he starts to climb down.
If you could get Cammy down the ladder, you think that there would be some areas that would be narrow enough that he would have trouble navigating them, but there would also be some points where he could move around more freely.
In terms of lowering him into the sewers, all four of you with a rope would be able to safely get him down without too much trouble.
Once down in the sewer, you can see a wooden door about ten feet away, presumably used by maintenance workers to navigate the sewer system more quickly. However, it has been left open a crack.
|
|
When a Large creature (which normally takes up 4 squares) squeezes into a space that's 1 square wide, the creature's miniature figure occupies 2 squares, centered on the line between the 2 squares. For a bigger creature, center the creature likewise in the area it squeezes into.
Once Operation Camel Drop is complete, Phedran will approach the door with a wary eye.
"C'mon then, Big C! Down the hole ye go..."
Damn right I'm going down the hole. Onwards, to glory!
Through the door, a corridor about ten feet long widens into a larger chamber. The torchlight illuminates the contents of this room, whose only other exit is a tunnel on the opposite wall. In the south-east corner, there is a collection of what appear to be rags bits of tattered cloth. Nearby, a few planks of moldering wood keep a few small objects off the filthy floor. Faint skittering sounds can be heard from the shadows of the room.
Hank will approach the ratty rags, hoping to find rodent allies for the cause.
As you begin to make your way into the room, you hear a hoarse voice from the other tunnel. "Get out! This is my lair!" The skittering and squeaking sounds seem to be approaching down the tunnel, and the shape of a humanoid figure is visible for a moment.
Karthurg draws his earthbreaker, feeling that whatever is approaching is probably not friendly. But he waits in case his allies want to try to make peace.
Hank will say, "Just passing through, stranger. On the trail of some evil guys, you seen anyway? Pass you some coin for a little info?"
Belliken curses under his breath when he hears the voice from down the tunnel. He takes some silver pieces out of his pocket and casts prestidigitation on them to make them sure shiny.
Of course this is your lair, we didn't come down here to disturb it or nothin'. We come offerin' tribute to the great and powerful lord of this Lair. We come and beseech the powerful sovereign of this land for safe passage
Belliken moves up to the front of the group and lets the light catch the silver pieces as he jingles them slightly.
From the shadows of the tunnel emerges a figure whose features are a cross between those of a human and a rat. He is thin, and his skin is covered in scraggly hairs. Crawling past him are two rats, grown to about three feet in length. Though foul-smelling, the rats appear docile, at least for the time being.
Eyeing the sparkling coins, the figure speaks again. "Perhaps you can be trusted. You are with the masked ones? This is twice now you have used my home. Seemed pretty hurried to leave last ti-" He pauses in his mutterings, squinting at you. "No, you're not wearing masks. What do you want?"
Belliken removes a mask from his pack which he took off of one of the dead cultists and holds it up. Aye we are with the masked ones, but this thing gets itchy you know and down here they can be hard to see in. We are looking for our friends, did they come through here recently?
Belliken throws 3 silver pieces on the ground before the rat creature.
He stoops to pick up the coins. "Yes, they looked to be in quite a hurry to leave last time, just earlier today. Carrying something in a bag. Of course, they didn't stop to tell me what. Nobody tells me anything." He begins rambling to himself. "Oh, it's always 'Mister Varn' this and 'Mister Varn' that when they want to come trampling through these tunnels but the second they're done they just run off with their tails between their legs..." After a moment, he seems to snap out of it. "Yes, anyways. Go grab another trinket for the Spider King, what do I care."
"Mister Varn, I am Hank, and pleased to meet you. You have very fine rats, there, some of the finest I've ever seen. I do love creatures. I don't come down here much so I am not sure which way to go, nor if there's ought I need to know about."
Hank peers into the darkness, nervously.
Belliken recalls hearing rumours that the Aracus Guild is led by the Spider King - not much is known about him specifically, but it is worth noting that the spider is the sacred animal Norgorber, the god of thieves, who the last guild member mentioned.
"The old man’s museum? Yes. It’s through the sewers that way." He gestures in the direction of the tunnel he emerged from.
Karthurg tries to get a read on the rat thing before agreeing and leading the way.
Hank trusts anyone who takes care of their pets, and walks ahead confidently.
Belliken assumes this rat person is untrustworthy to begin with, but is happy to get going anywhere that is not here.
The tunnel is only about fifteen feet long, and ends in a door that has been left open. On the other side lies a much larger chamber where sewage flows through a wide trench. The bottom can be seen, and is probably about four or five feet down, but it is difficult to be sure through the murky liquid. There are a few planks that form a narrow bridge over the disgusting stream. It is joined by another tunnel that flows down from the north.
Belliken peers into the muck and takes a careful look at the bridge to judge if it will really hold him up. His cloak is held up over his nose and he is ready to get our of these sewers as quickly as possible. His speech is muffled.
Didn't think after almost right headin' off into the beyond I would be slogging through the sewers. Lets make this is a quick. If we get into a fight down here I might just pass out from nausea.