How the lift functions Phantrel doesn't know, but whatever it is that powers it, it's not magic.
What he does have confirmed in mildly headache-inducing fashion - though in truth it was apparent with a little thought - is that the Courageous possess a strength far in excess of anything the half-elf has ever come across. A restorative potion or a blade that maintains its keen edge are rare gifts; artefacts possessed of intelligence and numerous abilities are several levels of power higher up the food chain.
* * * * *
"Whether any of them speaks Common is another question.”
Phantrel scratches his head. That could indeed be an issue should they manage to capture of the little pests. "Presumably that means you don't speak any of their tongue? Anybody else?" he asks.
Argatha shrugs, "I don't know any languages. Just, you know, what everyone knows." He thinks a moment, and remembers, "Well I know Dwarven now too, but we all do."
"Whether any of them speaks Common is another question.”Phantrel scratches his head. That could indeed be an issue should they manage to capture of the little pests. "Presumably that means you don't speak any of their tongue? Anybody else?" he asks.
"I'm afraid not." Xira shrugs. "I've a spell that will let me understand them for ten minutes, like I did with Forgewise when we first met, but nothing that will let me speak their language or otherwise make them understand us."
Colin piped up saying, "Unless they speak Undercommon... The Professor has set various reading exercises, mostly in Dwarven of course, but some are in Undercommon too. My uh pronunciation will likely be rather stilted you understand because I've never actually met anyone who speaks that language."
Brimble wants to swear but he realizes it won’t help matters. He changes tack. ”Maybe I can speed up the requisitioning process. Where might that trapsman kit be coming from?”
The Vault Steward taps its bronze-hued claw-graspers on the counter a moment, imitating the body language of someone in thought even if it's all artificial. "As an injurious item, trap devices would be produced at the Battleforge. There may be some additional ones stored in the offices near to the cavern entrances?"
***
In the northern hall (New Map!), the group carefully moves along, with Brimble scouting ahead like a little pale lizard ghost.
If you are electing to pass by the multiple furnace doors (with all their many warnings) you reach two open archways, one larger than the other. The first, and smaller, one is the one labeled, tantalizingly, Emergency. Your current situation counts as such to many of you, perhaps.
Once Brimble has peeked to check for any obvious threats (and seen none lurking), Xira leads the others in to examine what might be contained inside.
A mid-sized room with various benches and tables and shelves, 'Emergency' contains no convenient stairwell... but looking at the shelves right by the entrance, you see that they do have something else that is perhaps welcome to you: potions, with stoneborn runes on the bottles identifying them as curative.
Most of the other equipment in this room appears to be medical: two stretchers, ready to be grabbed at need and rushed off towards some unlucky injured stoneborn; and gauze, bandages, suture thread, needles, and enough other medicinal accoutrements to qualify as a full healer's kit. The equipment is just sitting out on the shelves. It seems the dwarves prioritized speed of access to these items more than trying to keep them 'secure.'
The exception to this is one locked cabinet against the eastern wall. A dark glass square makes its familiar mocking presence known to you as a lock you all do not yet know how to open; fortunately, a more mundane manual lock is visible beneath it.
****
The large archway to the north boasts tracks that disappear into the cavernous room beyond. The ceiling of the chamber that the plaque labels The Hammers of Torag is a good thirty feet above your heads. The room beyond is filled with intimidating machinery, some of which you can guess the purposes and others not. The more recognizable machines resemble giant hammers and pistons and mortars: steel arms to bring sledges down with crashing force onto strike plates; grinding devices to pulverize rock with dozens of jagged steel teeth.
The track that leads into this room circles it fully and rejoins on the outside. The ceiling is rife with chains and pulleys, from which still hang dozens of buckets. It seems likely that raw materials could have been brought into this chamber by mine carts, transferred to buckets, and then the buckets themselves swiftly moved around the chamber to the appropriate stations.
When operable, this chamber must have been a madhouse of noise: ringing hammers, roaring machines, rock being cracked and crushed and separated and ground to nothing. But at the moment, it is deathly quiet. The hammers all hang still and silent.
*****
Checking to see how far the tracks go, Brimble the scout discovers that they hit a wall. No, wait, emerge from a wall. A triple? set of doors blocks further access, set into a steel wall that reaches from floor to ceiling. One set of doors seems to be designed to allow the carts through; the other two doors to allow people through. The doors and the entire mechanism are all of heavy steel with rivet bolts the size of Brimble's forearm. Wheel-locks on the "people doors" thrust deadbolts home when engaged (as they currently are).
Dwarf-script on the doors states CAVERNS BEYOND. EMERGENCY ACCESS ONLY. FOR ROUTINE ACCESS, USE REGULAR ENTRANCE.
Argatha shares around the potions of CLW. Em got one earlier, and he’ll skip this round, so everyone has one except Argatha at this point in time. If no one objects, Argatha will also help himself to the smelling salts.
Later, he looks around the larger work-chamber. He knows a little about mining, is keen to learn more, and this is impressive!
He tries to get Raka's attention, quietly, "Raka!" he hisses and points to the north-east corner. He raises his bow and moves closer, trying to keep a clear line of fire...
:Oh, my little sparkling, thy spirit doth make me smile! We shall shine together.
"Oh Em, rest assured I would never presume to compare some darkness-dwelling bogey's intelligence to yours! Still, it won't do to underestimate them either."
Em does not respond to Brilliance, but she does shine. She quickly informs Xira that she will rest assured, and begins to wonder exactly what the denizens of Thurznchakh might be capable of.
After collecting one more potion, Em proposes to try the other entrance, and turns to leave. She comes walking back into the room a moment later when she realizes Raka and Argatha are not following.
"So this is the Hammers of Torag room, huh? I bet it was a pretty fittin' name once-- sound of hammers ringin' all the time in here." To someone who's accustomed to such manual work, the reigning silence in this room is almost eerie.
At a hissed alert from Argatha, who has his weapon drawn, Raka whips out her golden shield. She peers into the indicated corner, but doesn't see anything immediately dangerous. "What is it? I don't see nothin'."
Xira's grin matches her bright eyes as she takes in the contents of the Emergency room. "Now here's a welcome find."
After sorting through the medical supplies, she joins Argatha in distributing them. She presses one of the antitoxin vials on her fellow healer to replace the one he used on Brimble, then offers the other two to whomever in the party wants to carry them, in the interests of spreading their resources around. She keeps the surgical jelly and divides the two bottles of lambic between Argatha and herself. The remaining supplies she packs up and takes along.
She returns to the corridor thinking to follow Brimble, both to see what he has found and to ask his advice on the locked cabinet. But when she sees Em emerge from Hammers of Torag only to turn around and walk back in, she follows her friend. On finding Raka and Argatha staring at a corner of the room, Xira peers in the same direction, wondering what has captured their attention.
Weapon in hand: Quarterstaff
Effects: +1 alchemical bonus vs. disease, +2 bonus on Dex-based
Helping Xira gather the medical supplies, Phantrel takes a restorative potion and a vial of antitoxin for himself. "Best to share these around so more people have them on hand or can administer them should it prove necessary. Let's hope it doesn't come to that, though."
The half-elf joins the increasingly large number of the group clustering in the corner of the huge room. Phantrel remains silent and peers up towards where the others are staring, though he is unclear exactly what this is.
Hands on tiny hips, Brimble considers the dire dwarven warning on the door, debating the best course of action… Then everyone starts running off in different directions. He mutters to himself, ”’s Like herding cats here.” And while cat is a good meal, they aren’t fun to wrangle.
The kobold tries to keep his eyes on everyone moving to and fro. He settles on the strange behavior and focus of Argatha and Xira, as it seems the most urgent. He sneaks along the cart tracks from the other direction, wondering what’s drawn their attention.
Bullets, Normal (10):
Bullets, Sharp (5):
Bullets, Soft (5):
Arrows (15):
Frost Spitter (1):
Smite (1):
Vengeance (1):
Effects:
Poisoned - -1 STR
Argatha's keen eyes spot a faint red glow in the north-east corner of the room. With Rune drawn to provide coverage, he indicates to Raka there's something there. The big woman doesn't see it, but dutifully, if quizzically, moves closer with her shield drawn, not sure what she's meant to be looking for.
Brimble, padding closer quietly, is able to pick out the faint glow of light as well. It's an outline forming a rectangle, set into the eastern wall, at the end of a long bench that seems to go right into that illuminated rectangle...?
Oh-- there is a hanging panel here, hinged at the top so that the bottom can swing freely back and forth- the 'outline' is just the edges of this panel, where it doesn't fit flush to the walls or the bench. Brimble, pushing very lightly and carefully on the panel, can push it in half-an-inch to determine that the bench does indeed continue past the panel, and into a passageway that would be a tight fit even for him-- half his height and the same distance horizontal.
If this passage continues into Fires of Torag, which is where it's clearly pointing, then there must be a light source in that room, which is spilling down the little passageway to this side.
The bench itself is strange. Or counter? That seems more likely, it would be a little too high for a stoneborn to comfortably sit on, but a good height for placing things onto. It extends the full width of the northern wall, and on the side of it, you all can see wheels and gears of metal. The surface of the counter is firm but leathery.
Seemed a bit silly when people can just, y'know, carry items from place to place with their legs.... but anyway, maybe this is some sort of version of that.
"Oh." Argatha is let down by the discovery of a door. He had imagined some goblin or other with a light, hunkered down in the corner.
He lowers his bow and wonders at the bench himself. How odd. Still, the dwarves were known for their mechanical know-how so it must have made some sense to them.
He keeps an eye on things so no one sneaks up on them while the smart folk investigate.
Brimble glances at the silent hammers and the counter. He points at the tracks. ”Carts bring in the ore, which gets pulverized here, then onto the counter and pushed into the Fires of Torag room for smelting. That’d be my guess.” He looks into the chute, trying to determine what kind of light he’s seeing, stretches out a claw to feel for heat, then wafts a bit of the air toward his snout for a brief sniff, ”So, somethin’ is still burning in there…” Concern is in his tone… but he also gauges the size of the pipe and if he might be able to crawl through it with a breathing mask on.
"After all this time..." Xira approaches and bends a bit to get a closer look at the panel and glow, though she feels no need to touch anything. "The smelter ... is that where you said you heard some creature on the other side of the main door?" The movable piece of metal suddenly seems a flimsy barrier indeed.
Once again she rests her hand on Zenith. :Yet another chance for us to try our seeing-through-you trick. Though I must say I really don't fancy this one.
Weapon in hand: Quarterstaff
Effects: +1 alchemical bonus vs. disease, +2 bonus on Dex-based
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Colin looks at the bench, touches it, feels it flex. He notices the wheels and a surprised, "Oh!" escapes his lips. Breathlessly he tells the others, "This uh bench isn't really a bench, see the machinery there? Those wheels turn and this uh, I guess you could call it a belt, moves, carrying whatever its on top of it along for the ride!"
Phantrel listens to Colin's explanation. "For what purpose? Simply because they are heavy or bulky, or something more complex?"
Em walks forward, uses the tip of her dagger to get a grip on the hinged panel, and then pull it backwards so they can get a better view of the narrow space beyond. "Shhhhhh," she whispers to the others.
Argatha raises up his bow again as Em opens the doorway. He peers into the next chamber looking for movement.
Brimble and Em peer into the shaft as Em carefully eases the flap/door/panel back. It is lit with a ruddy glow that flickers occasionally, as if by firelight, and as he tests the air with both his claws and his sniffer, Brimble picks up what smells like hot metal, and a faint waft of heat from that direction.
The small 'corridor' and the 'belt' that connects to the 'Fires of Torag' slopes gently upwards, rising perhaps a few feet vertically over twenty horizontally to the east(ish). The passageway is not large: Brimble could manage it, but it'd be a squeeze for him, and his larger companions would truly be crunched.
The only thing that can be seen at the end of the small goods passageway, is a suggestion of a large room beyond, filled with a dim reddish glow, and vague hulks of large pieces of machinery.
Brimble and Em think they hear the faint sound of something metallic clinking, jangling-- not loud, just a small tinny noise that happens to reach their ears down the 'corridor'. It doesn't have the regular cadence of a machine, but irregular, like the occasional jingle from the buckles and straps of Raka's ill-fitting armor.
****
Colin would assume that the function of this "conveyance" belt is just to save on tedious labor- to have these marvelous machines do what must be done by grunt muscle in the more primitive mines of humankind. (Indeed, such grunt labor as your group was hired to perform.)
****
Zenith makes a strange sort of psychic throat clearing in Xira's mind. :I didn't answer you earlier, my apologies- I truly did not know which might be a better spot to use the linking of sight. The furnaces might be wiser in some ways - if there is bad air, it will not affect me. You also found an earlier chamber with bad air, did you not?
But if the room beyond you here has bad air-- or terrible heat-- then I am at less risk than you mortals for that sort of investigation as well. Provided you have an idea for how to get me back.
"I agree we should investigate the furnace room and the Fires of Torag, which feels the same, but not by this path. Brimble is the only one who can reasonably take this route, and even then it's tight."
"Let's continue doing what we're doing which is, I think, investigating the tunnels. When we're ready for this, let's do it by the main doors, with one of us protected and the rest standing by to help."
Em qukckly moves away from the opening that leads to the Fires of Torag, standing in the emergency room. "Why not stop quickly at the furnace first, before we circle round to the other entrance to the tunnels?" Em turns to Xira, who has the safety gear in her bag. "Get ready," she says, then walks across the hallway to the furnace. She feels for heat on the door, then begins to turn the wheel.
"With any luck, though one must question whether we are due for luck, the furnace will be off, and there will be no need for protective gear of any kind."
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”I’m not saying we go into the room from here, just one of us takes a quick peek to get eyes on whoever is making that jangling. I’d rather we take a look from here rather than cracking the main door and then finding out it’s a surly fire giant.” He considers the risks. ”You could tie a rope around my ankle and, if I call for help, you can yank me out double-quick.” He shrugs, thinking of no better way to recon the jangly potential threat.
:But if the room beyond you here has bad air-- or terrible heat-- then I am at less risk than you mortals for that sort of investigation as well. Provided you have an idea for how to get me back.
:None that don't come with problems. Xira rubs the back of one hand across her forehead, as though to wipe away the worried creases there. It doesn't work. :I think you're right, the furnaces are probably--
Xira's thoughts are interrupted by both Brimble's offer and Em acting on her own conclusions about the furnace core. "That's a brave offer, Brimble," she replies. "But I'm afraid I need to get this gear to Em before she does something that will want extinguishing."
"With any luck, though one must question whether we are due for luck, the furnace will be off, and there will be no need for protective gear of any kind."
Fortunately Xira's long legs allow her to catch up with her friend. "Luck favors the prepared, Em," she intones as she lowers her pack to the floor and digs out the safety gear. "So let's get you as prepared as we can ... the fireleathers will probably fit you better than me anyway."
Gear retrieved, Xira knots a rope securely around Zenith. "Brimble has offered to crawl through the belt tunnel to get a look at the Fires room, with a rope attached to pull him back if needed. So we could try the same with Zenith, see if there's anywhere you could place her so I could look through her at the core and get some idea of the dangers. But I would need someone watching over me while I do so, since I can't see two places at the same time."
Weapon in hand: Quarterstaff
Effects: +1 alchemical bonus vs. disease, +2 bonus on Dex-based
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"I will watch you, Xira," Phantrel says, the ghost of a smile playing on his lips. "That, at least, I feel qualified to do."
Argatha will tie a rope around Brindle, and be on the other end if he gets into trouble.
"whether we are due for luck, the furnace will be off, and there will be no need for protective gear of any kind."
Colin wasn't sure about this and he replied, "I would be interested to check, but whoever opens the door really ought to be in protective gear just in case. I wish the courageous could be more helpful with advice, I know if I ask I'll probably get my head bitten off."
"They have lain in one chamber for hundreds of years, and who can say what knowledge they had access to before then. Besides," Em surveys the group, and then herself, [b]"I think they've been helpful enough.
Since Em can see that the others are preparing to send Brimble through the chute that leads to the Fires of Torag, she decides to wait until they're done before opening the furnace.
"I will watch you, Xira," Phantrel says, the ghost of a smile playing on his lips. "That, at least, I feel qualified to do."
Xira gives Phantrel a smile of gratitude as they return to the belt tunnel, and Em a reassuring shoulder-squeeze, though it's not immediately obvious which of them she's trying to reassure, or about what. Colin gets an understanding nod; she can imagine the scientist's frustration at carrying around answers that he still can't access.
"Would my message spell be helpful, do you think?" she asks Brimble. "Speaking with each other in a whisper might come in handy if there is something with ears in there. You wouldn't need to shout to tell us to pull you back."
Weapon in hand: Quarterstaff
Effects: +1 alchemical bonus vs. disease, +2 bonus on Dex-based
It'll take a few minutes for Em correctly don all the fireleathers and the rest of it anyway - plenty of time for Brimble to go get himself killed, er, investigate the little tunnel-passage.
Xira's suggestion of a message spell isn't a bad idea, so she goes ahead and casts that on the scouting kobold. A rope around Brimble's ankle completes the security precautions, such as they are, and Argatha holds it ready to haul back if needed.
Raka helps Em don the protective gear for furnace-investigation as Brimble takes a deep breath and then starts creeping, hunched nearly double, through the conveyor belt's passage-hole. It slopes gently upward, limiting his ability to see too far ahead. He goes as quietly as he can.
Brimble, at about 10 feet from the hole's exit you still can't see much except a slice of the roof, some walls, some big machines. The smell of heated metal is stronger; and it does seem warmer, though still not anything like blazingly hot. The sounds of the jingling have stopped, or maybe Brimble just can't hear them over his own breathing and moving. Continuing?
"I wish the courageous could be more helpful with advice, I know if I ask I'll probably get my head bitten off."
You and me both, Phantrel thinks, glancing at the sullen sword belted to his waist.
"Would my message spell be helpful, do you think?" she asks Brimble. "Speaking with each other in a whisper might come in handy if there is something with ears in there. You wouldn't need to shout to tell us to pull you back."
"Unless there's a down side that I can't see, then I don't see any reason not to." The half-elf keeps his attention on the surroundings, trusting Xiramona has command of her magic.
Argatha watches Brimble eventually disappear up the slope. He feeds out rope to match his movement, but he's ready to jerk back at any moment!
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I wonder if Brimble is afraid of tight spaces. Em has decided not to speak, barely even to breathe, for fear of disturbing whatever reaving thing waits in the baleful, flickering light beyond. I do not like to think that he should become trapped in that narrow acclivity, unable to defend himself, while some sharp toothed monster makes a morsel of him. Slowly, very slowly, she draws her sword from its sheathe, not letting its cutting edge whisper against the soft leather of her scabbard
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Noting Em draw her sword, Colin whispered "Is something amiss?"
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"Merely our only hope of salvation crawling towards certain death."
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When the jangles stop, so does Brimble. There was nothing fire-breathing or fire-wielding that he wanted to meet in a narrow metal tube. It’s possible that whatever was in the Fires of Torag was unfriendly. Even if it was friendly, like Forgewise, the drakeborn could easily be mistaken for a slagborn. And - if he announced himself in dwarven - there was no telling how it would be taken. For all he knew, there might be a fiery Clanker in there. So he goes silent and waits.
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Brimble waits a dozen tense, careful breaths, then a dozen more.
Nothing happens.
He strains his ears, but continues to fail to hear the faint jangling noise.
How long does the drakeborn wait? And when waiting ceases, does he go forward, or backwards?
There is a tension in the room as the group falls into silence punctuated only by Colin and Em's whispers. Phantrel flexes his fingers, allowing his eyes to scan their surroundings.
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"I will watch you, Xira," Phantrel says, the ghost of a smile playing on his lips. "That, at least, I feel qualified to do."
Raka feels an unexpected stab of protectiveness at Phantrel's comment. I can watch her just fine. She busies herself by applying a few wholly-unnecessary tugs and adjustments to Em's gear. "How's 'at feel?"
Raka waits tensely for any report back from Brimble. She decides to draw neither weapon nor shield, in case both hands are needed to get him back from the brink of... whatever he ends up facing.
"Merely our only hope of salvation crawling towards certain death."
Xira would like to think that Em is indulging in her usual drama, but she knows better. She swallows her own fear as best she can, wishing she could have come up with some way to reduce their lead scout's risks. All she can do right now is offer a bit of reassurance.
"We're ready when you are, Brimble," she breathes in the faintest of whispers. "Just say the word."
Weapon in hand: Quarterstaff
Effects: +1 alchemical bonus vs. disease, +2 bonus on Dex-based
Brimble waits for a minute… before continuing to creep slowly forward. Fatal decision? Possibly.
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Brimble creeps, creeps, creeps. The ten feet remaining seem to take forever. Finally he can see into the chamber, from a position about eight feet off the ground.
It is dully lit by low red flames that emanate from the body of a seeming dwarf. Like the temple, with Forgewise.
But you don't think this figure is as nice as Forgewise.
The room beyond: Brimble gets a brief sense of a cavernously large room filled with crucibles and smelters-- most of them inert and cold, but a few flickering with low heat and coals. The 'belt' proceeds along the northern wall of this room to yet another wall and into that one as well; again, chains and buckets seem to dangle from the ceiling to facilitate the moving of quantities of materials around. Brimble only has a moment to take in all that, however.
The dwarf, or whatever it is, is standing directly below Brimble, its gaze turned up towards him, as if it had been waiting, with the patience of the damned, for him to emerge from the hole.
The stocky frame of one of the stoneborn is wearing heavy leather work gear, not dissimilar to what Em is donning in the other room, but heavy chains wrap around its torso and limbs, over and over, around and around, as if to nearly bear it down to earth with sheer weight. Most of the chains appear to be made of metal; a few appear to be something else, paler and more organic.
Where the dwarf might once have had hair and beard, only a noxious black smoke remains. The eyes that gaze pitilessly at Brimble are pits of unblinking fire; the skin around them blackened and rotted.
The dwarf-thing doesn't speak, though its nightmarish face briefly splits into a grin that is like the maw of a furnace. It says nothing to Brimble - it only acts. A swing of its arm and a length of long chain, with a hook on the end, lashes up towards Brimble.
The chain clangs against the hole's edges with abrupt volume, ringing down the stone passageway-- but missing the startled kobold by a hair. Luck is with him!
Those back in the Hammers room hear an abrupt loud clang, as of metal hitting rock, with great force....
At the jarring sound ringing down the tunnel, Phantrel is swift to react. ”Ask him if he’s ok, Xira,” hesays, concern in his voice. ”Unless he says he’s fine, pull him out,” he instructs the others. ”The rest of us can’t easily get to him if he’s in trouble so best to be cautious.”
The words to a spell form on his lips and he feels the tips of his fingers grow colder as he watches the entrance to the passageway in case anything should follow what he assumes will be a hasty retreat from the kobold.
Raka grabs the rope, ready to add her weight to the (admittedly not daunting) task of pulling Brimble back out. She wants to call out to him, but in case the kobold has not yet been seen by whatever made the noise she doesn't want to blow his cover.
At the jarring sound ringing down the tunnel, Phantrel is swift to react. ”Ask him if he’s ok, Xira,” he says, concern in his voice. ”Unless he says he’s fine, pull him out,” he instructs the others.
Xira gives Phantrel a slight headshake; she's taking caution one step further. "Start pulling now," she tells Raka and Argatha.
Lowering her voice (and how bizarre it feels to have to whisper in this situation), she addresses her drakeborn friend. "Unless you tell us otherwise right now, we're getting you out of there."
Then she reaches within, glad that she doesn't have to cart around a pat of butter for the spell she readies now.
Weapon in hand: Quarterstaff
Effects: +1 alchemical bonus vs. disease, +2 bonus on Dex-based
Round 1
Fun facts about kobolds… due to their scaly hides they don’t display surprise by a rapid widening of their eyes like the soft-skin races. Rather, their irises enlarge dramatically instead. So the big-ass metal HOOK slamming into the wall by Brimble’s head results in his irises nearly eclipsing the entire sclera of his eyes.
F+*% me! Brimble shoves himself back down the chute yelling, ”Pull! Pull! PULLLL!” and then he tries to be the skinniest kobold ever born, hoping he is yanked out of the chute like a… like a… something REAL fast. As he waits for rescue, he whispers orders via the message spell. ”Secure the Fires of Torag door! Don’t let it open!”
The GMC ain’t paying me enough.
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Argatha hears the call of "PULL!" and yanks with all his might!
"C'mon little buddy!"
He pulls and keeps pulling until he sees Brimble... or what's left of him.
Em's first thought on hearing the loud clanging noise is to cut Brimble's rope. Her sword actually quivers as she raises her hand, but she manages to resolve herself against this rash impulse. Instead, she grabs the rope and pulls.
She does not hear the order to secure the Fires of Torag door, but she does glance towards the doorway, wondering if something will come lumbering into the Hammers of Torag at any moment.
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Several things happen all at once. Brimble's alarm is clear in his voice as he yells at the top of his lungs for his friends to Pull!!, which they start doing with alacrity. He does his best to shimmy backwards from the chain-bearing horror before him, and manages a fair distance back down the tunnel before Em does the rest of the work with a hard yank. Brimble is glad for his new armor as he's bodily dragged along the conveyor belt and through the tight passage-- he loses a few exposed scales to the process, but the armor and clothes take the brunt of the scraping.
The kobold pops out of the chute like a champagne cork, landing at the clustered feet of his companions only a little scraped up.... Phantrel stares at the panel door (it's swinging wildly after Brimble's quick exit) with cold whispering at his fingers, and Xira is relieved her grease wasn't needed to get Brimble out. She is able to quickly tell the others about Brimble's advising to secure the Fires door.....
Through the swinging panel, Brimble and Argatha can catch a glimpse of the face of the nightmarish dwarf come into view at the far end of the pipe/passage. The creature grins again, opens its flaming mouth-- and a surge of fire roars down the small passageway towards those two.
The panel only partially blocks it. A cloud of smoke filled with burning embers and sparks gets through, covering Brimble and Argatha in thick fumes.
You manage to squeeze your eyes shut before the fumes hit them, but you still take 1 fire damage
The smoke seems like it's not going anywhere yet. It roils and curls, heat and sparks still flashing through it.