The Crumbles lead you to the back of their store, past racks of leather, rubber, wood, reeds, and various shoemaking materials. In a small alley, where the cobblestones are uneven and caked eternally in glistening mud or oil, a basement door is set in the ground. Winklepicker sorts through his keys and heaves open the large wooden trapdoor.
Small flecks of whatever lay in the filthy alley splatter on your shins. Winklepicker gestures to the recess below. The smell of deep earth (with a hint of dead animal) wafts up from the darkness below.
"It's just the one tunnel. Straight shot. No curves, no side rooms, no nothing. 50 feet long, 3 feet tall, and full of rats. Full," he says, raising his eyebrows at the last word.
If you listen closely, you can hear scratching, scuttling, and squeaking from the tunnel.
"Have you tried fire? I have some flasks of Alchemists fire and an acid flack. We could toss them in to get rid of some of them and clear out some space.
Is there another entrance to the tunnel besides the other store? Another way in perhaps? We need to find the source and block it or eliminate it."
Brag removes a sunrod from his backpack, sets it alight and lowers it into the tunnel to see what is really in there.
Thurl focuses his Ki and his skin thickens and toughens. He brings out 2 wands, taps himself and faint magical barriers form around him.
"Thurl, what can you tell us about fighting large numbers of rats?"
"Yes, all the scrolls I can think of that might help, I would not be able to use. Dead Eye won't let me do Arcane, only Divine. Scroll of Burning Hands is out."
"We could barricade one end, then toss in flasks like Brag suggested and let Lem's hammer deal with the remaining rats if there are any?"
"I also have that wand of flaming sphere that Bragoleb gave me."
"I forgot about the wand. Let me toss an acid flask in and drive them away from the entrance. Then you can use the wand. Arbaro is right, though. He and Lem and Roccavisk should go to the other Cobbler shop and make sure the other entrance is blocked first."
"That I know of," Winklepicker says. "Just the two entrances. The doors don't close real tight, so little rats get their nose in and squeeze right on through."
With the sunrod, you see what the Crumbles said: a long, short tunnel. You hear scratching and scuttling and as you lower the light a few eyes reflect the light before the rats scurry back deeper into the tunnel.
Roccavisk readies herself to take off to the Cobbler's (or was it the Cobblers...?) other back entrance. She can cast Acid Arrow if need be on the swarm.
"It may be that Roccavisk and Lem can handle the other end of the tunnel if it is closed. His hammer and her acid arrows should be able to handle any escaping vermin. The three of us can stay here and toss flasks. We'll give you five minutes to get in place. Then we'll start the carnage. Any thing I've missed?
..
Oh yeah, I thought of something. Hey, Cobblers, you might get some buckets of water ready in case the first gets a little out of hand. And I have a nifty Firefelly spell that allows me to breath fire, if it works!"
You stand before either end of the tunnel, the darkness made even worse but the constant squeaking and scratching you hear coming from within. You have to step down the steep steps and crouch into the low tunnel to see the swarm of rats enough to attack them.
The steps are slick and oily, but not enough to make you fall. You feel warmth coming from inside, not the cool of a basement but the heat of a cesspit. Once you crouch down and look into the tunnel, you see not one or two rats. Not three or four. Not even five. Six or seven pops into your head as a reasonable number (as you would have to use two hands to count that high, so it must be a pretty big number by then), but even a two-handed count to ten would not be enough. A wriggling mass of filthy rat bodies crawl and clamber over each other down the low-ceilinged tunnel. The stench of dried sewage coated in fresh waste hits your nostrils and almost makes you wretch.
Arbaro heads in first with a flask
Holding back his puke Arbaro chucks the first flask.
"Here we go!"
Round 1 | 1/1 Acid flask | 3/3 Alchemist's Fire Flask | Firebelly 6/6 minutes
Brag follows Arbaro and tries the Firebelly spell.
Round 1 | HP 48/48 | Advice 15/18 | Awaken Divinity 6/7 | Ki Pool 7/10 | Bardic Performance 8/9
AC: 28 FF: 25 T: 20 CMD: 25 Barkskin and Mage armor active
Holding down his bile at the disgusting smell, Thurl moves down into the tunnel behind Arbaro and Brag and uses his wand to cast Flame Sphere.
Round 1
Resisting the urge to rush forward and fight, Lem says, "We're ready for them!"
After talking, Lem takes a deeper breath than expected and takes note of several distinct sources of foul odor, trying to hold back from gagging, leaning against Quaker for some stability, no longer having any attention for the fight, but stands in front of Roccavisk still.
The swarm of rats surges toward Arbaro, Thurl, and Brag, the fire having enraged the rats. The crawl over, under, and around the three of them with their teeth and claws scratching every surface of your clothes, armor, and skin.
Round 2, AC 20, touch AC 20, 50/76 HP
Round 2
Lem seeing the swarm attack his friends closes the distance with the rats and swings in a rage
Heedless of the danger and bearly holding onto his lunch, Arbaro chucks another one at his own feet.
Round 2| HP: 64/71 | Judgements 2/2 | Spells 1: 6/6 2: 3/3 | Perfect Strike 4/4 | Gravity Bow Wand charges 21 | True Strike 1/1 | Blood Scarab 1/1
"Rats! Why'd it have to be rats?"
Immediate Action
Thurl's Ki bursts forth in his mind as the rats attack, warning him what is to come.
Thurl shrugs off the biting rats and manages to maintain his composure.
Round 2 | HP 41/48 | Advice 15/18 | Awaken Divinity 6/7 | Ki Pool 5/10 | Bardic Performance 8/9
AC: 28 FF: 25 T: 20 CMD: 25 Barkskin and Mage armor active
Thurl focuses the wand again and rolls it toward the rats taking the damage upon himself if he must.
Round 2 | HP 45/52 | 1/1 Acid flask | 3/3 Alchemist's Fire Flask | Firebelly 5/6 minutes
Brag attempts to breathe fire again.
As his second attack, he tosses a flask of Alchemist's Fire among the rat swarm.
The rats are singed and smoking. A few dozen still survive, but they scurry under and around your legs to flee into the streets. Even as you try to step on them they run, all in different directions. Their swarm mind has been broken up.
The tunnel is short and still reeks of dried filth, but is no longer moving with a hundred rats. Instead the smoking, ashy remains of scores of rats cover the floor; not enough to hide the sewage, however.
You can see your companions ducking their heads down and peering through the tunnel on the opposite end.
The stonework is quite nicely done and will likely hold for a long time. But the floor is covered in refuse and filth, likely to take a good rain or a day's worth of cleaning to walk barefoot on. But you see something shiny, like a silver platter, under all the charred rat bodies and other detritus.
"Well, that was foul, we might need one kind of Cobbler or another after that. How is everyone feeling?"
Arbaro waves at the others and shouts.
"Hey guys! Everything looks clear, anyone badly hurt or just me who threw Acid at himself?"
"Ooo, what is this shiny object?"
Arbaro uses his other senses to check out the object for dangers before picking it up.
Brag heals the group.
"If breathing fire will help clean up this mess, I have 4 more of these Fire-belly casts remaining.
Say, Arbaro, what did you find?"
Arbaro picks up a polished silver bowl, or platter, shiny enough you can see your reflection in the covex side of the bowl. However, after picking it up and wiping it off, you notice hooks for leather straps on the opposite sides of the bowl, as if it were a shield and not a bowl at all.
"It's a shield! Looks like it'll be useful if we go up against anything with a gaze attack or rays!"
Arbaro checks his body, then looks to the others.
"Looks like I don't use a shield. Do any of you need a replacement?"
"This must be the artifact from Perseus. Who ever takes it probably won't get to keep it for long if we are cleansing the temple."
"Oh, you are right this is one of the things we were sent to find! Good thing we helped these cobblers out. We'd have never have found this here without them."
Arbaro has everyone move out of the tunnel and casts create water to help wash out at least some of the debris.
"Let's head back and let them know we're done and they can safely use the tunnel again."
The Crumbles are crying tears of joy at your arrival. "Is it clear? Oh praise Chaldira!"
Klompen collapses to the ground, exhausted.
"You see, dearest friends, my wife Klompen is an illusionist. Since the tunnel became infested she's been using her magic to make two halfings appear across the street in the other store-" Winklepicker says. He points through the window, and you can see the shadowy shapes of two halflings running around. You even catch the faint sound of "Yes yes, be right there! Awfully busy today, be just a minute!" repeated over and over, their words diminishing in authenticity as they repeat the same phrases.
Winklepicker gets a cup of water for his wife and says, "She works hard every day, baking and cobbling, and on top of all that she was casting illusions of us for the unsuspecting residents of Chimera Cove. Anyway, now that you've cleared our tunnel, we can just run over real quick when someone enters our store."
Klompen opens her eyes and says, "Thank you, friends. Have my cousin's recipe book as reward. I only like baking cobblers anyway."
Winklepicker goes into their lockbox and hands you a heavy tome, stained with oils, sauces, and spices. Link.
Brag considers the Crumbles' words.
"I know a little of Chaldira, the halfling god of luck and mischief.
We are glad to have solved this problem for you."
"Thank you for the book, we will use it well! Do you know anything about the Dragon Hunters at the inn?"
"Yes, would you be so kind as to tell us what you know about the dragon hunters? I think we need to pay them a visit, and soon."
"They're jerks," Mr. Crumble says. "They stomped in here, demanding a discount for hunting the chimeras and manticores around the area... and they haven't even slain a single one! They have harness, tack, and muzzles, but not a single wild animal or magical beast in their cages. It's unfathomable where they get the money to drink all day from."
"Fellow halflings, says Brag, growing more and more to like his new halfling self, "we will take care of these 'jerks' and most likely do their job for them."
"Shall we take the mirror shield back to the temple? Then head off to the tavern? How shall we deal with these drunk, lazy slugs?"
Thurl ponders Bragoleb’s words and slowly responds, ”Well, perhaps we should hang on to the artifacts while we search. We don’t want Kalamani’s ‘spirit’ to get ahold of them again. Let Lem hold onto it for now. At least he can actually use it.”
"Good idea, Thurl. I think you or Roccavisk should carry the shield for now."
Lem, coming out of a stupor, [b]"I agree Bragoleb, lets run the dragon hunters out and do the hunting for them."[b]
Lem takes a look at the shield at Thurl's words...
Lem, coming out of a stupor, "I agree Bragoleb, lets run the dragon hunters out and do the hunting for them."
Lem takes a look at the shield at Thurl's words...
The dragon hunters are staying at the local tavern/inn.
"I despise dragon hunters. They're the worst sort of people, even when they are doing their jobs. Some captured Dewayne before we met. I say we wait until they're all passed-out drunk then slay them all where they lay."
Thurl recoils slightly at Arbaro's vehemence, and says, "Well, that is one option, but I'm more in line with Lem and Bragoleb."
Thurl leads the way into the tavern and approaches whoever he perceives is the leader. "You are a disgrace. You're wasting time here and swindling your customers. Tell us everything you know about those creatures, and get out now or we will help you out."
Thurl hits the table in an awkward manner and doesn't actually speak to the right person...
Brag joins Thurl in his attempt to intimidate by diplomatically referring to Thurl's impressive qualities that the supposed dragon hunters would be rather concerned about.
"I wouldn't cross this dwarf, if I were you. Don't let his awkwardness fool you. He is not someone to be trifled with," says Brag with a knowing nod. "In fact, it would be in everyone's best interest if you would just pack up and leave this harbor, for ever! "
Secretly, Brag hopes Lem and Arbaro look mean, menacing, and frightening as they enter the tavern behind him.
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Arbaro comes in looking to take down some hunters but decides to give them a head start and bow drawn.
"I will be kind and give you a twelve-second head start. The next time I see any of you, I will put an arrow in each of your eyes. Now. Get. Out."
Outside, Dewayne will watch and harass them from the air while verifying that they leave town.
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Lem stands behind Thurl, looking menacing...
Lem flourishes Quaker briefly for emphasis and the glare from his new shield catches one of the hunters.
The inn is loud and rowdy. You can hear mugs clinking, dice clicking, and daggers clacking as the dragon hunters fill the inn with their loud-mouthed bravado and party-like atmosphere.
Thurl walks in, his prosaic voice barely audible to even himself above the din of the patrons. The nearest table shoots the dwarf some single-eyebrow-raised side-eye long enough to see Thurl slip on the alchohol-drenched table. They laugh and go back to playing cards, putting their feet back up on the table.
Bragoleb has more success. Nearly a third of the inn turn to see the paladin in his shining armor, though the back two-thirds can only see the top curve of his bow because of his short height. One of the dragon hunters spits after Bragoleb's words in a show of toughness, but you can tell a few of the other patrons are thinking about sobering up and getting some sleep, if not wholly giving up their pursuits in town as the paladin wished.
Arbaro's drawn bow elicits a few gasps from the patrons. Some stand and put their hands on hilts or staves themselves, but none leave because of the oread's words. A few even bare their chest and pound their unarmored ribs to taunt him. "There's too many of us, we'd swarm you before you got off your third shot!" one bellows.
Boom.
Lem takes a step into the inn. The creaking boards beneath his feet vibrant throughout the entire building.
Thud.
He sets his earthbreaker down with a heavy thud. The light from his new shield reflects the candles and torches hung on the walls and ceiling, catching the attention of everyone in the building.
Clang.
With corded muscles Lem twirls Quaker over his head, glancing the head of his mallet on the mirror shield. The sound reverberates throughout the timbers of the building, and a few sparks scatter on the floor.
Lem opens his mouth to speak, but before he can even utter a word, most of the dragon hunters leap, scramble, and crawl out of the inn, leaving their meals and drinks where they lay, and not a few weapons as well. Only a dozen hunters remain, half of them too drunk to know what's going on, the other half too stupid to back down from a fight.