Vlad follows Ragnarr's bellowing cries and listens for the swish of tentacles in the dark, grimly aware of the danger of his position- posing lethal threat to his friends, but in lethal danger if he does nothing.
However, he can hear almost nothing over the din of Ragnarr's lusty battle-roars, and strikes blindly in a direction, hoping and praying to strike true.
Hrafn's twin blows of the quarterstaff are swiftly evaded by the tentacled mass in the shadows but as the bizarre creature is engaged in evasion it leaves opportunity for Vladimir's sword. The blade cuts deep and precisely in the centre of the shadowed shape cleaving it in twain.
As the supernatural darkness begins to lift slowly you see two strange unnatural shapes upon the ground. These things bear brown mottled skin with rows of yellowish slit-like eyes and an unsettling carapace fringed with coiling barbed tentacles. They seem to have no place in any nature you know.
Hrafn's twin blows of the quarterstaff are swiftly evaded by the tentacled mass in the shadows but as the bizarre creature is engaged in evasion it leaves opportunity for Vladimir's sword. The blade cuts deep and precisely in the centre of the shadowed shape cleaving it in twain.
As the supernatural darkness begins to lift slowly you see two strange unnatural shapes upon the ground. These things bear brown mottled skin with rows of yellowish slit-like eyes and an unsettling carapace fringed with coiling barbed tentacles. They seem to have no place in any nature you know.
Ragnarr wrinkles his nose in disgust as he peers closely, but not too closely, at the slain creatures. "Hrrrr... What are these... things? Demons from the depths of Nifelheim? What other horrors dwell in these halls?"
"I know not, friend Ragnarr, but their presence here worries me. Still, we overcame these shortly... perhaps our skill can yet win the day."
He looks around, poking the creatures over with the blade of his sword to make sure there's nothing underneath them.
"Let's check the room, see if we can find any of the Ironbloom stuff, and then be gone."
Hrafn, keen to be gone, helps Vlad search. He carefully avoids looking at the unnatural corpses near the altar.
Searching the shrine your efforts yield no further discoveries. It seems quite likely whatever wealth or secrets this shrine contained have long since been sacked.
A door to the right offers the only other egress from this room besides the main doors.
"Alright, it's not here. Let's go- Ragnarr, behind me."
Vlad walks cautiously through the doorway to the right, keeping his blade ready.
The room beyond is in an equal state of disrepair. What was once a library is now a shattered mess with one corner being completely collapsed and dominated by a wide pool of stagnant water. Thick fungus grows on most of the books that still remain on the shelves lining the walls.
Knowledge(nature) 10
Knowledge(nature)16
Spot DC 15
The room beyond is in an equal state of disrepair. What was once a library is now a shattered mess with one corner being completely collapsed and dominated by a wide pool of stagnant water. Thick fungus grows on most of the books that still remain on the shelves lining the walls.
Hrafn walks carefully forwards; is this fungus the ironbloom they seek?
"This doesn't seem to be..." Suddenly he stops, just as his stretched out finger was about to brush the surface of the mold...
"Ware friends. Don't touch this. We should move on."
Looking for a door that leads onwards, Hrafn does not notice anything else in the room.
"Hmmm, no, ironbloom it does not seem to be," growls Ragnarr. "But what's this?"
The man-beast approaches the shelf riddled with fungal growth, and points at what appeats to be the golden spine of an ornately emblazoned tome. "Sorcery... this book has not rotted away like the others on this shelf have." He holds his hand out, about to touch it, then hesitates and stops with his fingertips a few inches away from the tome...
Upon Ragnarr's examination the gold-emblazoned tome with ornate runic sigils would certainly appear to be of significant value. However, the moldering book case would appear to be precarious. A ginger touch is needed to remove the valuable book without disturbing the fungus.
Sleight of Hand/Dex check
Roll 0-11
Though with a slow movement you raise the tome off the shelf a cloud of noxious spores rises up from the shelves. Fort DC 16 2 Con damage
Roll 12
With a slow movement and deft hands you safely remove the book. You breath a sigh of relief as the fungal growth remains inert.
Upon Ragnarr's examination the gold-emblazoned tome with ornate runic sigils would certainly appear to be of significant value. However, the moldering book case would appear to be precarious. A ginger touch is needed to remove the valuable book without disturbing the fungus.
The man-beast continues to hesitate, keeping his hands off the book. "Does anyone really want this book? I can't read, anyway... and I don't trust it... or the mold that's covering it..."
The man-beast continues to hesitate, keeping his hands off the book. "Does anyone really want this book? I can't read, anyway... and I don't trust it... or the mold that's covering it..."
"The mold looks like something I've heard of called 'shades' -- rots your head..." Hrafn pauses, considering, "...but it's not deadly and this book might be important."
With elaborate care Hrafn maneuvers the book out from the mess it sits in.
For all his efforts, to raise the tome off the shelf, a cloud of noxious spores rises up from the shelves. Hrafn splutters but seems to suffer no immediate ill effects - perhaps saved by the filtering effect of his bushy beard.
"Now, who can read?"
"I can. I was trained to read from an early age. Pass it to me, see if I can read it."
Vlad reaches for the tome, holding his tongue to the back of his throat to avoid inhaling the spores.
"Hang on lad, let me have a quick look at that first." Invoking a quick chant to Thor, Dorvarr casts detect magic. "Now let Thor reveal the secrets of this book."
Stepping away from the sporous cloud Hrafn holds the ornate tome aloft. The runic sigils would seem similar to the types you have seen carved near the shrine and bears the symbol of the anvil possibly also linking this book to the worship of Dvalin. The pages are also written in the blockish runic script most likely Dvergar.
Dorvarr
Appraise DC 15
"Hang on lad, let me have a quick look at that first." Invoking a quick chant to Thor, Dorvarr casts detect magic. "Now let Thor reveal the secrets of this book."
Invoking the force of Thor you stretch your senses outward. An aura lurks within the tome upon the last page. Ritualistic scripts different from the other texts are inscribed. A glowing warhammer is inscribed upon the centre of the page. Your finely tuned senses divines that it is but a faint glow of power. The rest of the book to appearances a religious hymnal while valuable for its exquisite craftsmanship and adornment would not seem to be ensorcelled.
Spellcraft DC 17
Spellcraft DC 20
"Hmmph, looks pretty. It has an aura, but also looks like it'll fetch a fair penny *cough*(500 gp) on the market. Also looks like we've confirmed the Dvergar influence around here..."
"So... where are we supposed to find ironbloom around here? Pray it will be through yonder door..." The man-beast, clearly uninterested in the ornate tome, moves towards the portal on the right, axe at the ready... "If there be dvergar here, I'll gladly send them back to Svartalheim, where they belong," he mutters, feigning confidence.
"Aye, friend, that we will."
Vlad moves to Ragnarr's side, then nods to him to go first.
Stepping through the doorway Ragnarr finds himself back in the main hall of the monastery. The cobwebbed hallway stretches on for several metres past the main entrance before it branches off the to the right around a corner. A single doorway on the right side of the corridor stands within an arm's reach of the library's exit.
Stepping through the doorway Ragnarr finds himself back in the main hall of the monastery. The cobwebbed hallway stretches on for several metres past the main entrance before it branches off the to the right around a corner. A single doorway on the right side of the corridor stands within an arm's reach of the library's exit.
"Back at the main hall... There is another door past the entrance to the library, but I like not these webs... Where, there are webs, one might find spiders... big spiders..."
The malodorous giant cautiously cuts his way through the webs with his great axe, then tries to force open the single door beyond the main entrance to the library.
Under Ragnarr's force the door heaves inwards. A horrid stench assaults your nostrils as you see yet another decaying goblin corpse horribly mutilated and hanging from chained hooks dangling from the ceiling. The room is a clutter of smithing and mining tools such as hammers and picks. At the centre, a carved pit fifteen feet in diameter yawns wide and dark. A series of chains stretch down into the pit being part of what would appear to be a pulley system. Also, a ladder bolted into the rocky face of the pit leads downward.
Under Ragnarr's force the door heaves inwards. A horrid stench assaults your nostrils as you see yet another decaying goblin corpse horribly mutilated and hanging from chained hooks dangling from the ceiling. The room is a clutter of smithing and mining tools such as hammers and picks. At the centre, a carved pit fifteen feet in diameter yawns wide and dark. A series of chains stretch down into the pit being part of what would appear to be a pulley system. Also, a ladder bolted into the rocky face of the pit leads downward.
"Heh heh." Ragnarr can't help but smirk as he eyes the mutilated goblin. The stench does not seem to bother him so much. "Someone did some good work on this filthy goblin." The barbarian gives the corpse a light shove, and watches it swing on its creaky hook. Realizing that the noise risks alerting whatever lurks in the darkness below, he quickly grabs the swinging cadaver and stills it.
He then turns around and pokes his head back into the hallway. The shaggy man-beast nearly headbutts Vlad by accident. "Oops... something interesting here," he reports to the startled nobleman. "Smith's tools and mining tools... with a dead goblin... and a ladder and chains that go down into a pit, maybe to some other passages..."
He then turns around and pokes his head back into the hallway. The shaggy man-beast nearly headbutts Vlad by accident. "Oops... something interesting here," he reports to the startled nobleman. "Smith's tools and mining tools... with a dead goblin... and a ladder and chains that go down into a pit, maybe to some other passages..."
Hrafn groans under his breath in dismay. "Agh - not further down. Are we not far enough from the sky already?"
...carnal stench...
Vlad glances in, takes the scene in, and shakes his head with a grimace.
"Perhaps after we've checked this level. I don't want to be trapped underground at night-time. Let's continue."
Other than the black pit shaft there appears to be no other routes to the rest of the building saving your original entrance that leads back into the main hallway. A glance at the light outside would indicate that little remains of the day. As your eyes linger on the hacked remains of the suspended goblin the prospect of spending the night atop the mountain is not the most welcoming of thoughts.
"Darkness comes quick... What do we do... take shelter in the library for the night? Retreat to the woods?"
"Whatever may come for us will most likely come form within the building. If we break for the night, we ought to do it outside. At the very least, it will make our more outdoor members more comfortable..."
As you ponder your plans aware that roughly an hour of daylight remains a wind groans through the dilapidated ruins of the monastery promising another chill night.
"I think we should at least investigate the other wing of the monastery. While the shaft may be a bad idea, not clearing out the ground level is just asking for trouble..."
"I think we should at least investigate the other wing of the monastery. While the shaft may be a bad idea, not clearing out the ground level is just asking for trouble..."
"Right... let's hurry then... We could also stay near the shaft, and ambush whatever comes out of it as they exit the chamber... and hope they aren't too numerous or powerful to overcome us, or to sound the alarm... I can see in the dark." Ragnarr twirls the shaft of his axe impatiently as he waits for his companions to make a decision.
"Then lead the way, my friend." Vlad, a little impatient to find the Ironbloom and return, doesn't pay much attention to Ragnarr's claim to be able to see in the dark (After all, he's a woodsman... he probably has good night-vision).
Moving back to the main hall you cautiously tread down the corridor to the far wing of the monastery. As you round the corner you can see that this part of the building is in even more dilapidated state as the masonry is crumbling in several parts of the wall.
The corridor stretches on to the end of the hallway where the walls have completely fallen in leaving a rubble-strewn path outside. To your immediate left lies a doorway ajar. Peering in you see a small study that looks like it has been lived in recently. Gnawed bones litter the floor and tufts of gray fur can be seen here and there. An old stone desk sits in the centre of the chamber, scratched and cracked in many places. Another doorway on the far side of the study provides access to a room west. The stench of wet fur hangs heavy in the air.
A howling growl breaks the silence as two lithe shapes pace from the room beyond. The two large wolves bare their teeth and make to charge.
Init:
Ragnarr 18
Wolves 16
Dorvarr 14
Vladimir 9
Hrafn 8
Ragnarr makes a howl of his own in response to the call of the wolves. The man-beast's matted hair practically bristles, and his eyes roll up into his head, revealing yellowish-white orbs. He gnashes his jagged teeth, hoists his axe high, and mumbles incoherently to himself.
Ragnarr makes a howl of his own in response to the call of the wolves. The man-beast's matted hair practically bristles, and his eyes roll up into his head, revealing yellowish-white orbs. He gnashes his jagged teeth, hoists his axe high, and mumbles incoherently to himself.
As Ragnarr stands his ground one of the wolves bounds towards him teeth flashing in the dim light.
The wolf's jaws clamp down upon the barbarian's leg biting deeply nearly sending the half-orc reeling backwards but in a burst of strength he shrugs off the animal.
The second wolf moves in against Vladimir with a wild ferocity but as it leaps the young knight effortlessly sidesteps the hound and it faceplants itself in the wall next to him. It snarls in rage.
A howling growl breaks the silence as two lithe shapes pace from the room beyond. The two large wolves bare their teeth and make to charge.
"Hold," shouts Hrafn as the wolves lunge forward. Then again in deeper, more commanding tones, "Hold, by Fenrir and by Skoll!"
"You too, Ragnarr."
"You too, Ragnarr."
The stout man moves alongside the raging barbarian, hefting his warhammer.
Dorvarr's hammer cracks resoundingly across the wolf's spine delivering a staggering blow. The wolf gnashes his teeth savagely and continues to press the attack.
Vlad slashes viciously at the wolf which crashed into the wall beside him, bringing his blade down onto the back of its neck.
Vladimir strikes swiftly down upon the lumbering wolf drawing deep of the animal's blood, but though grievously wounded, the wolf fights on possessed of a terrible tenacity.
Hrafn focuses his thoughts outward at the two ravenous hounds. The wolf pressing on Vladimir ceases his gnashing of teeth and moves to cautiously back away. It is still wary and its lithe muscles are coiled ready to defend itself.
Suddenly, a bellowing roar sounds from the chamber beyond. A limp shape comes sailing through the air hurled by immense force from the shadowed room. The shape flies with great speed slamming into the wall with a sickening crack of bone and slap of rotted flesh. The body slides down in a ruinous heap. However, you quickly discern this body though dwarfish in stature is not a goblin. The creature appears as a stunted dwarf with a ghostly blue skin adorned in a patchwork of leather armour. Blank milky white eyes stare lifelessy from its pale face.
The guttural roar resounds again but surprisingly the voice calls out; "You wish to taste Greypelt's claws again Blue-Skins!"
Lost in his frenzy and oblivious to the flying corpse and the voice from beyond, Ragnarr spins around, spittle flying from his lips, as he swings his axe again at the wolf that took a bite out of him and nearly knocked him over...
"A fine hit, my friend! 'Ware the Dvergar ahead!"
The stout man glances about, having a quick look at Ragnarr's wounds while attempting to discern the source of the roars.
Lost in his frenzy and oblivious to the flying corpse and the voice from beyond, Ragnarr spins around, spittle flying from his lips, as he swings his axe again at the wolf that took a bite out of him and nearly knocked him over...
Powered by his bestial rage Ragnarr's axe cleaves through the flesh of the wolf dropping the beast in a pool of slick gore.
The other wolf backs away pensive and ready but ensorcelled does not move to threaten.
Emerging from the shadows a hulking beast of a wolf, far larger than any specimen you have seen, strides forward its massive fangs bared in readiness. The worg has a great shaggy pelt and his eyes burn with an uncanny intelligence. They linger for only but a second upon the wolf slain by Ragnarr but then his gaze squares directly at all of you. Again its shuddering voice sounds in gutural tones:
"You are not the blue-skins. Who are you? Speak!"