|
"Oooo, that's a right problem. Stay back a bit, and let's see if nature can't help us out here."
John casting Shape Water. Out of a nearby bog crawls a tiny little water-man. It steps up and in to the trap, seeing if it triggers right away. IF it doesn't, it grabs the trap and drags it away from the corpse so Ienmar can study it easier.
huh
"Ach! Those vines grow fruits that are good for eatin' or fermentin'. If there are any ripe, we should grab us a bunch for the trip."
The Crowbar clacks and plops on the verdant-covered road. It doesn't cause anything major.
The Water formed creature dances over near where the body lays and a spray of particles come down from the trees.
Ienmar draws back his crowbar, untying it. "More traps...hold on lads, there's an archway over 'ere."
He packs his things once more and sets out into the archway.
Amber watches as the others check for dangers but perks up noticeably at the mention of fruits. "Well I wouldn't mind pluckin' a few but let's not dally; we've still got kin to find. Anyone bring a map we can mark for later?" She looks longingly at the tempting vines as she follows Ienmar over in.
As Ienmar get closer he can note the frogman has mushrooms growing on him in spots, but unlike the dwarves, the mushrooms are different in color.
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Investigation
Arcana or Religion
Morkam finds himself having to fight off the exhaustion of this long march, but unwilling to show weakness keeps plodding forward.
"I believe this one has been bespelled by someone or something to keep him from rotting away. There also seems to be some kind of puzzle trap here. These columns and it looks like some pressure plates on the road right under him. I wouldn't be surprised if they connect up to something that might have killed the poor bugger".
Morkam gestures and points as he speaks, and even takes a moment to draw out the elaborate structure in the dirt to the others. "We can try to bypass it though we might want to carefully explore another path if we do... or I can see if I might be able to wedge something together to disarm it".
|
|
Johnny Boy squints at the road that Morkam is describing, trying to see the pressure plates as stated, but is mind was never made for intricate discernment.
"Blargh, so are ya saying that there may be more spore-traps? And it would be harmful? Bah, I know not how the frog-men would've laid such traps so carefully in their haste, but we must needs make best speed."
John conjures a fresh tiny water-golem from the muck and has it awkwardly stomp forward.
"Would it be just as good for this little bugger t' stomp on all the plates and have them go off? Then we could be on our way, eh?"
"Better a little walkin' waterspout than us, I suppose... but if the traps reset 'fore our return or our kin might face a nasty surprise."
She nudges Morkam with an elbow. "Now what was that about wedging' somethin' in? Think it'll keep it from sprayin' again?"
Ienmar looks at the pathway.
”I can see the plates, fellow dwarves,” he says. He takes a deep breath, and says. “I will brave this danger. Pull me out if I collapse, and I may be revived”.
He ties himself to one end of the rope, under his chainmail, and tosses the other end to the party. He pulls from his pack a pickaxe and from his masonry kit some plaster, and marches forward to avoid the plates, pulling them out to disarm them, and to plaster over the hidden sprayer.
“I will brave this danger. Pull me out if I collapse, and I may be revived”.
Krystid whistles and says, "Whew, that is one brave dwarf."
Each of the plates is flawless. Dwarves must have crafted this long ago. Still, the patterns and designs are clearly not dwarven. Something hired dwarves to make it. As you managed to pull them free, as it was the only natural way not to set them off, a strange fibrous tube could be seen.
As for the sprayer, well that is a different story. It seems a bit tall for a Dwarf to get without a boost. The arch is seemingly designed for a creature of at least eight feet in height to move comfortably through it. All in all though without the pressure plates Ienmar you know without a doubt you are safe.
The Archway seems to lead into a thick hedge-like tree path with something that looks like a straight path heading forward, yet also no end in sight. What do you do
Ienmar collects the thick plates, depositing the stack with a clatter on the side of the road.
"Made by dwarven 'ands," he says gruffly. "But the designs are not ours. I might've seen this before..."
Also strangely enough this would place it being built during the collapse of the Minotaur Empire. Which makes this even more mysterious.
Ienmar relays his findings.
“This belonged to minotaurs, who ‘ired our kindred to build these traps. Come, I can’t see as well as I should.”
"aye, aye; history is all well and good but we've still got kin to find." Amber steps up and casts a cantrip, lighting a flame above her hand. "There. See well enough now?"
“Oh this looks bad.”
He relays the findings.
“This minotaur village seems to have an altar.” he says. He doesn’t want to let the trail go cold, and asks their tracker whether the tracks lead to the village. “Thoughts, Johnny Boy?”
Morkam eager to get this over with so he can find somewhere at least partially comfortable to sleep, approaches the Caldesac.
Investigation
Perception
|
|
"Blegh. I don't see how an alter of th' Minnies is any affair of ours," John replies Ienmar. "I say we do as we have been doin'--pushing on. On the way back, after a victorious battle and rescue, then we can spend some time here and see to its particulars."
Johnny Boy pushes forward with the others and sees if we can find proof that the fishmen went forward from here.
It turns out he just ends up staring at the alter, thinking about all the many years it had seen in this place.
The trees on the edge seem to hide older buildings and what were walls, some crude huts are mostly made of wattle and clay. They seem empty.
Behind the altar and Dungeon door is a wooden wall and a thatch roof building. It is decorated in crude art and symbols. Still, all the fresh tracks lead you to the door down.
As for places to rest that is any of the huts or the big building.
Oddly it is strangely quiet.no croaks no animals, nothing.
So adventurers a door deep into the bowels of the earth beckons you. What do you do?
"They've gone down 'ere, lads," he says gruffly. He then coughs and says in an apologetic tone. "An' lasses."
He readies himself, and says, "We're not like them humans who need a torch day in and day out. Let's go in and save our people!"
"If they've gone underground then they've done half the work for us. We'll see how well they jump with stalactites just over their heads, aye?"
Amber tosses away her conjured flame and tests the door, pulling or pushing as needed.
Krystid follows along in the second rank, trying to be alert for ambush.
The alcoves have little flesh left, and strange fungus, and tarnished metal litter the alcove in the stairwell. On the stairs, themselves are some form of algae as it coats everything. In fact, it smells of fetid water and moist earth.
As you descend the stairwell seems to have faint luminescent fungus in a myriad of blues, greens, whites, and lavenders that blend here and again. Strangely you note as dwarves and stonework runs in your veins that you are subtly twisting down.
At the bottom a room similar to the work Ienmar had inspected was found. three archway doors awaited you. Old oil reservoirs rested between the middle door in front of you and each of the side entrances. No oil seemed to remain, just fungus.
”Aye, that’s what ye could call,” Ienmar says, pausing as he thinks. “Dramatic value in tha’ architecture. Best open the door on the left first.”
He then carefully walks over the floor to open the door, keeping his eyes peeled.
To the left, the door is loose on the hinges. It creaks and the lock is open. some of mold and fungus grow on it. Despite that the door opens smoothly.
About 20 feet in the tunnel is clogged with fungal growth on what looks like debrii. It goes from wall to ceiling basically shutting off the tunnel.
”Nope.”
He shuts the door, but glances at Amber. “Could ye burn this away?”
Morkam, nearly asleep on his feet is more than content to let the more... brave... members of the party open the doors. He stands ready to fill the openings with crossbow bolts should they prove necessary.
Amber steps up to the door and takes a look herself; her eyes widen a moment at the sheer quantity of fungi. "That's...a LOT of mold..." She looks at her open palm for a moment, pondering. Her eyes light up as she reaches into her pack to pull out a torch. After working to light it, she opens the door and tosses it into the mold, watching to make sure the mold either catches fire or at least doesn't extinguish the torch.
Some of the molds catches, but not much. Strangely enough, the fungus seems to feed off it. It grows a bit but also stays away from the light. The fungus seemed to look fleshy with peach-colored skin and deeper pink tops.
As it does you see a cave in behind the thicker mold and fungus. It was hard to see but eventually, you see it. Without some serious excavation, this way is barred.
Door on the right. Krystid covers the opener with her bow.
Ienmar sees the mold feed on the fire, something that is conventionally praised for its powers to purify and overcome the most polluted and evil of forces.
His lips open into another, "Nope."
He shuts the door, and heads to the door on the right, opening it, shield up.
This also lesser-used door opens into a well-hewn tunnel, though the years have a few bricks popping up or having fallen from the ceiling. It also shows some of the luminescent fungus. Another fungus appears here and there, but the slick floor has no visible footprints. The tunnel goes far past the reach of Darkvision.
"Coast's clear," he says gruffly. He hefts his hammer on his shoulder. "Let's go."
Morkam wonders for a moment if it's worth gathering a sample of the fungus to study it's properties but is then shuffled aside as the others head towards the next door. He is pleased to see some of the fungus here and reminds himself to gather a sample on the way out.
Amber keeps up, her axe still in hand. "No chance they took our people for food if they've gone so far underground. You don't s'pose they're using 'em for more of their frog magics, do you? If they're keen on sacrificing them to some god or other, we're about to offend someone's religion."
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
"Amber makes a good point, but tha trails lead ta 'ere," Ienmar says.
The middle door is open and if you open it and look inside the walls have strange vines and fungus growing on the walls and ceiling. Moss hangs and the floor seems to be wet. It slopes down the floor having been stairs but this moister had worn down the bricks.
It smells musty with a hint of strange musk. It is dank and the darkness is cut with luminescent fungus. It is also thick with humidity. Every once in a while the ceiling lets a plop noise from moss dropping or further down something moved in the slick water-like film on the slope.
Ienmar slows his steps (), feeling his stability waver. His boots, still caked with the rain and mud from the outside, would not hold well. He keeps the vanguard, however, looking for tracks.