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Dorian jumps acrobatically up onto the table near Argon. He starts looking for doors, while Argon waits. The dust on that part of the long table spreads to the air like a cloud of smoke, making Argon cough.
Dorian finds nothing of interest in the walls.
A very faint noise, a clunk or some such, is heard by Dorian, coming from the southwest corner of the room. Nobody is over there, not where the noise came from.
Argon says to Dorian, "I'm about to open this. Would like like to be ready in case anything jumps out? Actually, if it is undead, do you have some special protection against it?"
He is still standing, waiting for Dorian, since he doesn't want to fight something dangerous by himself.
Wrathe moves into position, his borrowed Staff of Illumination raised in preparation of battle.
Such staves only had finite charges, and though they could be recharged he was not confident that he would have the ability to do so. Its Sunburst ability was so far beyond him, that he was frankly itching to use it.
Daxniss turns around as she notices a flicker of movement from Dorian as he jumps towards some thing he heard. Snarling at her inability to locate the possible threat, draws her rapier and stalks forward, getting ready to dart around the possible battle field.
While they where moving into position in case something lurked in the sarcophagus, Ssilax explains what he meant. He speaks quietly, pulling up his cowl and hood.
"I think someone working for the Arch-Magus tracked us back to home when I went to the temple four years ago." Ssilax clutches his weighted spear, his claws scratching the wood. "That's why I think it's my fault." The dragonkin's shoulders slump once more.
Stomach churning as a wave of self loathing washes over him, Ssilax pulls his cowl down. Taking a few steps towards the wall, and turning his head, the dragonkin vomits bitter bile. Spitting several times, Ssilax rinses his maw out with a swig from his waterskin. Spitting the rinse out, Ssilax ties his waterskin back to his pack.
Readying himself for whatever might be lurking, the young Theurge turns his head when the half living monk suddenly moves. Ssilax looks at Dorian.
"Umm, do you see something over there, Dorian?" The dragonkin was glad that something was taking attention away from his mistake. The same one that ended up costing all of them everything they had come to cherish.
With knit brows, Wrathe slowly cranes his head over to the emotional lizardkin and shakes his head, "Or they knew about it before...or they followed one of the members of Umbrae....or Master Dainoth....or one of us...." He shrugs, "If we are looking to cast aspersions and assign blame, then my frequent brothel haunts are more likely to blame than any other likely cause."
He chuckles good-naturedly, "Without the wisdom of hindsight I can only imagine that I would do so again. I say bring 'em on, I'd prefer a straight fight to all this sneaking around and hiding the truth. Perhaps those that seek us will find us more of a handful then they ever imagined bringing down upon their pointed heads."
Shaking Dainoth's staff at Ssilax he adds with a greatly exaggerated eyebrow waggle, "Now find a smile lizardlips, or I won't let you rub my staff later."
Argon looks at Dorian. "See something? Hear something?"
Argon says, "Ssilax, you were poisoned and almost dead. Dainoth teleported us home, all of us. How could we have been followed?"
Now he follows Dorian, who is leaping on tabletops to the corner, but Argon stays on the floor. Not knowing what to expect, he holds his staff in one hand and his falcata in the other. He waits for Dorian to show him which slab to lift.
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Dorian dances to the southwest corner. It is somewhere around here he heard the noise - a knock of some sort.
This time all of you hear it. Two clear clunking sounds, coming from inside one of the tables at the corner of the room. Argon takes his staff, and, showing his strength, puts the end of it under the edge of the table, and quickly lifts it up. This section of tabletop is shaped like a trapezoid - a 5x5 square section plus a triangular half-section next to it. It is a large slab, and heavy, but there seems to be some kind of counterweight, for it rises of its own accord when Argon removes his staff.
The reason Argon removes his staff is that there is something inside. Something made of bones, and it is reaching out at Dorian, clawing at his legs. It is smaller than a human, maybe three and a half feet in height, so it almost looks like a large toy clawing at you from out of a big toy box, its wide grin always smiling at you.
One of the strikes catches Dorian flat-footed (no dex bonus while flat-footed) and scratches his leg (4 damage).
Initiatives:
Skeleton
Heroes
Behind the skeleton, on the lower wall and floor, a dark hole can be seen leading horizontally away.
The heroes are up!
Their research had suggested that bludgeoning weaponry would be most effective against skeletons, and with that in mind Wrathe employs his staff to bash in the unholy thing's skull.
With a startled curse hissed out in his native draconic, Ssilax lashes out with the heavy end of his weighted spear. Not that he remembered anything about fighting skeletons. The mace-like end of the weighted spear just happens to be the closest end to the skeleton.
Steadying himself after the blow, Ssilax's clawed hands seek to strangle the wooden shaft of the spear. The dragonkin makes it a point to keep his spear inbetween his scaly hide and the small skeleton.
Daxniss let's out a hiss of annoyance at seeing the skeleton attacking Dorian and the fact that she had her rapier in her main hand while her quarter staff was held in her off hand. Her mind racing she starts to move herself into position to start a flanking action with the others.
As she moved staying out of reach from the skeleton she sheathes her rapier.
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Dorian kicks the skeleton's skull like a ball, and it goes flying at the wall. The rest of the bones crumple into the dust at the bottom of the box.
Another very similar skeleton appears out of a hole, from the 'box' next door, to mindlessly take its place, however.
Argon drops his falcata clanging on the ground, then smashes his staff down into the abomination, breaking several bones and putting it to rest forever.
A careful check finds that the two boxes together form an L shape, and they contain nothing more but lots of brownish dust and the bones of those two skeletons. At the far corner is a small hole, about two and a half feet in height, leading horizontally to the south.
Wrathe moves the light source into the nooks and crannies to ensure that there remains no surprises to lurch out at them.
As he stands he recognizes Dorian's wince and the man guarding his side.
"Are you alright?"
On a peripheral level he was aware that the dhampir's alien physiology was problematic for traditional deity-based healing.
"Is there anything that can be done?"
"I can bandage his wound, that's about all." Ssilax says as he digs out his Healer's Kit. "I would need a divine spell that inflicts wounds to magically heal his wound." The dragonkin mentions to Wrathe.
As Ssilax begins to bind the ragged tears in Dorian's pale flesh, he continues to talk.
"Baba Yaga provided me with a number of loose scrolls a little while ago, so I have the spell, I just need to put it in my prayerbook." Ssilax stops what he is doing, suddenly remembering there situation. "I am a colossal idiot." the dragonkin mutters from behind clenched teeth and closed eyes.
Taking a few deep breathes, Ssilax opens his reptilian sapphire orbs and continues to gently bind Dorian's torn flesh.
"I'm sorry, Dorian, I don't have the spell to magically heal you, because I didn't finish putting all of my spells in my books." the dragonkin avoids making eye contact with anyone. "I've been so busy the last few weeks, I just kept putting it off." He adds, shoulders slumped as in defeat.
Finishing up with the bandage, Ssilax puts back his kit and grabs his backpack. Walking back over to the heavy tarnished statue, he places it his pack, and ties it closed. Looking at the stone floor, Ssilax busies himself with trying to identify the creature that the animated bones belonged to. He was hoping it was halfing or some type of gobliniod, rather than the bones of a child.
Argon also follows Wrathe's staff and looks over the box and table. He even lifts up the table lid to the left of the one previous, since the second skeleton had come out of there. The lid is the same, and inside is more of the same dust. There are no additional holes in this one, save the one that goes to the first box.
"I wonder what is in the rest of these..." He moves to the one on the left, and, staff ready, crouches down and lifts the lid with his hand, ever so slightly.
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Argon sees inside the box. There is something, some circles he can see. No skeletons. He notices a musty smell, somewhat different from the musty smell of the room. He lifts higher, and sees it appears to be full - completely full - of cylinders, arranged in a honeycomb, each cylinder vertical, and maybe two inches in diameter. They appear to be made of paper.
The rest of you looking around notice that there is some space behind the two boxes you have opened (well, three now). It is an area between the walls and the boxes, about six inches wide.
Ssilax is not really sure, but the bones seem very similar to human bones. If they're not human, they are certainly something humanlike, the only difference being they are between three and three and a half feet tall.
Argon says, "There is supposed to be a library here, right?"
" Perhaps whatever you found in the box is just part of the library. " Daxniss says with a shrug, hefting her quarterstaff onto her shoulder she gives a growl at the pile of bones.
Wrathe dons his master's ring.
Glancing at the ledge running the circumference of the room he whistles as he considers how many potential mini-skeletons could be in this room. "Should we open them one at a time, and deal with them in that manner, to avoid all of the lids opening en masse?"
Bringing the staff forward he bends down and looks closer at the paper objects arranged in a honeycomb.
Ssilax flinches slightly when Dorian puts a hand on his shoulder. This was nothing new with the dragonkin's response. When the monk came to live with Dainoth and his apprentices, Dorian had noticed that Ssilax shied away from all physical contact. Even from the attractive elven druid, Storm, the young theurge flinched away. His reaction that to amuse the strange druid immensely, as she constantly was touching the dragonkin. The only time Ssilax seemed to touch anyone (other than Dog), was to provide aid.
"Your welcome Dorian, and I'm always thankful for the extra protection. I'm sorry I couldn't provide more aid. I'll have to keep an eye on your wound to make sure it doesn't get infected. Ssilax says with a nod of head towards the dhampire as he finishes with his backpack.
Looking over as Argon opens the third container, Ssilax tense, expecting another skeleton. When nothing pops up, he breathes a sigh of relief.
When Argon finishes looking in the container he opened, Ssilax leans in and takes a look.
Ssilax nods in agreement with Wrathe.
"That would be the safest thing for everyone," the novice theurge glances at the other containers.
"It also has the side product of hopefully offering us a means of escaping this room, lest we learn that we've been buried alive."
Wrathe's attention is fixed upon the papers and tries to move his attention from topics related to suffocation.
Argon says, "Yes, I expect this may be the library, or part of it."
He moves to the next one and prepares to open it with his hand. "Ready?"
As soon as everyone is ready, he opens it.
Daxniss gives a shrug, glad that more skeletons showing up. Daxniss gets ready to smack whatever comes out of the slab that Argon lifts up.
Ssilax nods to indicate he was ready for the next container to be opened. The dragonkin glances at the other containers, looking forward to seeing what was in them. Ssilax hopes that the two skeletons where the only thing guarding the room.
"I wonder if this is all of what's left of the library?" the young theurge ponders out loud.
"And my thanks to you two," Ssilax says quietly, looking at Argon and Wrathe. "For reminding me that all that everything that goes wrong is not my fault." The dragonkin's short snout wrinkles slightly as a weak smile finds purchase on his scaled features.
"I'm going to pull out the top one of these cylinders. We might as well see how well the paper survived," Ssilax looks around the apparently sealed room. "This room looks like it was welled sealed against anything but time."
Cautiously, Ssilax removes the top cylinder, carefully removing it. He took care to make sure the other cylinders wouldn't flop down on the next layer of the large scrolls.
Wrathe nodded. Twas his intent to open all of them if they could.
"Let us not open the lid all the way, but only open it sufficiently to see. Should there be a creature within, such as the skeletons with short arms, we could exploit the distance to bash it through the small aperture."
" I hate to break this up but perhaps we could grab what will last and leave this place. The more time that we spend here, as enjoyable as it could be, the more time that whatever grabbed master Dainoth could perhaps be getting closer to us. We could keep opening the caches of the library, however we might just end up biting off more then we can chew. "
" I purpose that we open the slabs one at a time, dealing with whatever might pop out of their resting place if we are able too, if there are no other way's out of this cache then spend time going over the records we have found. " Daxniss finishes looking around at the rest of the room.
Argon nods, noting everyone seems to agree to open all the slabs. "Good idea, Wrathe, we just open each a bit to get a peek inside."
He proceeds to go, with support from the Dorian and the others, and open each of the outside slabs in turn, and later he plans to do the inside ones.
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Moving from where he had started, Argon lifts each lid in turn going all the way to the north 'exit', and inside each box is a set of scrolls similar to the others. In a few of them some of the scrolls have cracked or broken, but by and large they are intact, if brittle.
Then he moves across the northern entrance to the rest of the outside boxes, opening each in turn, until he reaches the box that housed the mini skeleton. Each of them is the same, containing yet more scrolls. Certainly this must have been a library or at least a document storage facility of some kind.
Moving to the large table in the center of the room, Argon opens all of them a few inches, and they all look inside. Almost all of them also contain scrolls, like the others. The only different one is one of those on the north end of the table, facing the entrance. These two open for people standing north of them and facing south. The western of the two does not contain scrolls or paper. Rather, it contains the rusted remains of a tool or weapon. Perhaps a lucerne hammer type thing, or even just a pick. Also in it is another tube, this one of rotted and petrified bone or wood, possibly some kind of musical instrument. Remnants of holes seem to be along the shaft, and there are little bits of rusted and tarnished metal lying on the bottom of the box with it, along with what might have once been cloth or leather, now dust and detritus.
Looking around at the open lids, a slight frown tugs the corners of the dragonkin's short snout. Turning his sapphire gaze to the large scroll that he held in his hands, he gently sets down the scroll from the container he pulled it from. Gently, he places the bit of parchment that had broken off with the rest of it.
Quietly, Ssilax prays to Nethys, casting a orison of Mending upon the scroll. He was curious to see if his magic would restore the parchment to a slightly more readable state.
If it worked, Ssilax would try some of the other ruined items in the container. Pausing while the magic dances over the large scroll, Ssilax glances at Wrathe.
"Hey Wrathe, would you mind checking to see if any of this stuff has any magic attached to it?" Ssilax asks of his friend, pointing a clawed finger at the final containers.
Thinking for a few moments, Ssilax turns to Dorian.
"Do you think you could tell if there is any airflow in the room? Your much more observant then I am. I was hoping that the cave in isn't as bad as it looks. I'm really hoping that's the case." The dragonkin asks of the half-living monk.
"I'm not sure we that too much to worry about," Ssilax says, looking at Daxniss. "If they were coming after us, they more than likely know right where we are. Especially if whatever fiend that was "piggy-backing" Master Dainoth's portal. Right now, we're assuming the fiend was sent by the Arch-Magus. If they were actively tracking the Master, they know we're here, certainly." Ssilax pauses to think for a few moments. "At a guess, I think whatever grabbed Master Dainoth happen to notice him creating the short jump portals. The magic might have caught it's attention." A faint smile finds purchase on his snout. "I think we are probably beneath the Arch-Magus's direct notice, unless someone walks up to a guard and smacks them in the face. Or if I suddenly decide to streak through the surface, that might get their attention. I do stand out a bit."
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Ssilax was unable to remove the scroll from the box, as it broke off in his hand almost as soon as he touched it.
Unfortunately, the other items, the pick thing and flute thing, are too far gone from their original shapes to be repaired.
Dorian had noticed there was air flow, if not flowing, when the first box with the skeleton had opened, through the hole in the wall.
Xthian innately observed the world in a strange blend of magical energies intertwining with the sensory input of the "real" world. As such he moves his eyes around all items in the room in search of the telltale auras associated with restlessly swirling magical energies.
Watching the scroll disintegrate in the dragonkin's hand issues forth a frustrated sigh at the loss of potentially-crucial knowledge. Wrathe shakes his head, pushing away frustrated thoughts associated with the gaps in Master Dainoth's reconnaissance abilities, as he considers ways that this cache of ancient knowledge could be saved.
Gallows' humour fills him as he figures they could always return...it's not like Dainoth doesn't have another hand to sacrifice for the cause.
Wrathe considers the collapse, wondering if it was total, or if this was a possible means of egress, and then moves to the small hole, wondering if it could be widened.
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The paper is very old, so it seems a safe bet that only preservative magics could save the scrolls. It's possible some oils, judiciously applied by experts, might be able to do the same thing, but Wrathe and the others are unsure of that.
After speaking with Argon, who checked the passage, and looking for himself, Wrathe thinks it might be possible to get through, but it would be days of digging just to move a few yards. And it's impossible to know for how long that condition exists. It might go on like that for hundreds of feet.
The hole in the corner is carved out of stone. Using digging implements it could be widened, but it is big enough to crawl through now.
Argon hears the conversations and agrees that they need to get out of there soon. If the tunnel is the way to go, then he'll go that way.
"However, since Dorian can defend himself, even attack, from any position, I think he could go first. If your injury is not too bad, Dorian? I will go first if need be. I could keep a dagger in my hand."
Seeing Wrathe on the floor, he asks, "Does it look like it leads somewhere, Wrathe?"
Seeing that the scrolls where going to take magic much powerful then what he was capable, Ssilax hisses in irritation. It was bad enough he possibly ruined one of the scrolls. 'Damn it" he mutters to himself.
Glancing at the others, he peeks over Wrathe's shoulder to see what he is looking at.
A slightly puzzled expression comes across the dragonkin's scaled face as he looks around the room. Homing in on a slight crunching noise, he walks around the containers until he comes across Dog.
Dog was contently chewing on the femur bone of one of the small skeletons. He looks up at Ssilax and wags his tail happily.
Smiling, Ssilax reaches down and scratches his familiars ears.
"Anything I can help with?" Ssilax asks, looking over at his friends.