Temerith waits as the line comes to a hopefully temporary halt. "Hey. Can we get under cover before that huge bat comes back thinking it has an easy meal!?!
"Here, let's see if we can get a rope across the courtyard. We can hold on to it as you try to cross... Or it collapses."
She takes out her rope and works to wrap it around an outcropping or column that seems reasonably solid. Then cuts it to about a 20 ft length and ties it to an arrow, and fires the arrow at the door on the other side of the courtyard. If there is no door, she aims for a crag or crack or chunk of ground in which the arrow might be reasonably anchored.
Hearing they need to speed up Silvash begins to gingerly move across the rubble.
Hearing they need to speed up Silvash begins to gingerly move across the rubble.
[dice=Acrobatics]1d20+6
As Dorian moves forward, a slab shifts beneath his boot and gives way, dropping him into a debris-filled cavity about ten feet deep.
Once the dust settles, Dorian could swear he hears faint scuttling from within the rubble. Perhaps it's just the stones shifting...
Silvash, moving carefully, manages to cross the first ten feet of rubble without issue, placing each step with care.
Jacq secures her rope between a rocky outcropping and an arrow, which she fires at the far door. The rope holds, for now - but she doubts the arrow would bear much weight if tested.
"Well, the far end might not hold, so try not to grab on it unless you need it. If we pull it down with us, hopefully the rock-anchored end stays put and we can use it to help climb back up outta here. Let's get moving. I'll cover you as you cross and then follow." She keeps her bow at the ready, trying to stay alert for the return of the bat.
Once everyone crosses and/or goes down, Jacq will carefully follow.
Or she'll just get impatient and fall.
Silvash sees Dorian go down and yells back "Someone drop him a rope and help him out of that hole. I'm going to continue on and try and secure that other end of the rope so no one else ends up in another hole."
Ooof! ack! exclaimed the Dwarf. At the bottom of the hole he looked around after hearing the squeaks. He stands, shifts the shield ready the hammer and looks around. I be hearin more a dem squeakers
Jacq watches the others, bow in hand, covering the crossing.
While Silvash presses ahead, picking his steps carefully, he scans the far side of the ruined courtyard for something sturdier than an arrow to secure the rope to. The rubble here shifts with every step, but so far he remains sure-footed.
Down in the rubble-strewn pit, Dorian finds himself surrounded by more of the same: broken stone, fallen timber, and the faint scuttling echoes of something - or perhaps nothing - within the gloom. There's no clear exit below, just uneven collapse.
Above, no one seems in a rush to help the dwarf up.
Still at the back of the line, Temerith continues forward as fast as the line allows.
Seeing as Jacq will need light, Nee stays by her side, and begins to assist removing the dwarf from the hole…
”Lan, Tem - hold up a minute…and stay sharp! Let’s get Dorian out and make sure Jacq’s rope is secured at the other end before we try to move further in…”
Silvash searches for a good place to tie the rope off.
Invoking a blessing (or two) from Fharlanghn, Lanliss nimbly darts across the rubble.
"Be patient, Dorian!" he calls out as he passes. "We'll toss a rope down to you!"
When he reaches the other side, he grins brightly at Silvash before taking off his pack, rummaging around in it, and pulling out a piton and hammer.
"Ta da!"
The elves identify a likely place to secure the piton, and tie Jacquelin's rope to it.
If the party needs another rope to use to help Dorian out of the hole he's found himself in, Lanliss has his own rope and another piton to contribute.
-- Exploration Segment 1 (continued) --
Lanliss joins Silvash inside the room - his divine inspired nimbleness making the difference. Together they hammer some pitons in place, and firmly attach the rope to them.
Temerith moves ahead, passing Nee and Jacq by - holding onto the rope, he manages to safely navigate the first 10' into the room.
Jacq takes a step back and Nee throws a rope at Dorian, which the dwarf promptly uses to get back up to the entrance to the room.
-- Exploration Segment 2 --
With Dorian safely situated, Nee makes her way across, taking Jacq’s lantern with her…her other hand leaning on the rope in case she loses her footing…
Temerith continues across.
after they pull Dorian out of the hole, he tucks the hammer in his belt loop and grabs ahold of the rope with both hands, making his way carefully across the mess of masonry.
Jacq follows in the rear.
-- Exploration Segment 2 (continued) --
The group begins their careful crossing, now aided by the taut rope strung across the rubble-strewn chamber.
One by one, the adventurers make their way forward - Temerith and Nee move with ease, barely disturbing the dust. Dorian, less nimble, slips at one point, but catches himself on the rope before tumbling again. It holds fast, anchored securely by Silvash and Lanliss.
Jacq brings up the rear, moving with deliberate caution beneath the flickering light of the lantern now carried ahead.
Lanliss stands ready to assist anyone who may need a helping hand for the last few feet of crossing the rubble.
Dorian says to Silvash. wanna get dat door opened dere Silvash?
Silvash takes a second look at the old door, eyes scanning its frame and edges for signs of traps or trouble. Finding nothing obvious, he braces himself and slowly pushes it open. The swollen wood groans against the frame, hinges creaking with the strain and echoing softly through the chamber.
Beyond the door, there is a circular area cobbled with cracked granite, upon which sprawl four goblins, all apparently slain in combat. One stands with its back against the western wall, the killing spear still skewering it and holding it upright.
Three wooden doors lead off from this the area (including the one you just came in through). Above, a hollow tower of loose masonry reaches 30 feet, but the intervening floors and stairs are gone, except for a couple of crumbled ledges.
Jacq follows the group in, on the alert. She frowns at the scene. "Weird to leave just a perfectly good spear behind." She looks at it, examining it carefully, and if it seems safe to remove (i.e., not boobytrapped) she pulls it out.
She also tries to figure out how long ago they died (can't have been long if it is not overwhelmingly full of stench) and identify the tracks of their killers and see which door they went through.
Silvash carefully makes his way into the room. Looking down for trip wires or uneven floor that may reveal a trap. He turns over his shoulder and says "The floor probably isn't trapped due to the combat, but better to be safe, so be on the lookout." He stops in the middle of the room to let others determine which way to go.
Temerith follows the group in, watching as Jacq pulls the spear from a goblin that was pinned to the wall by it. He agrees that leaving a functional weapon behind seems strange. "Might be a good idea to scan an area for magic, not just traps?"
With that said he sings a short chant and scans the area for any auras indicating magic, first on the spear and goblin body.
Three wooden doors lead off from this the area (including the one you just came in through).
Nee gingerly enters the chamber, knowing she has no expertise in either trapcraft or dungeoncraft, let alone dweomercraft. The shell of the pile above scares her, even more than the slain goblins, or whoever made them meet their various ends. Her eyes catch on the swollen door, and her characteristic face-scrunch employs.
”I keep getting the sense that our little lambs and their friends just…didn’t come this way. Not that it really matters, because we did, and now…here we are. [here Nee indicates the bodies with a dismissive wave] With….them.”
Moving over closer to Jacq, Nee nods as the woman pries loose the spear.
”I’d definitely leave the spear behind…if I was in a rush. Or [Looks up] if I thought the place was about to collapse on me. Otherwise…no. Definitely not leaving it behind.”
Stepping as lightly as possible, Nee’s glance takes in the remaining two doors.
”Let’s not….hang about in here. Any indication which way…to….or not…to go?” she asks the room generally…
Jacq pulls the spear free with a firm tug. The goblin corpse slumps heavily to the floor, brittle with age - no fresh kill, this. Whatever happened here took place weeks ago at least; the bodies are dry and shriveled, entering the leathery phase of decay, but the room is mercifully free of stench. The spear itself is surprisingly well-maintained, the metal still clean and the haft solid.
As the goblin collapses, Jacq catches sight of something behind it - faint, deeply etched runes in the stone wall, partially obscured by grime and shadow. She doesn't recognize them at a glance.
Nearby, Temerith hums a few quiet notes of a detection spell, focusing first on the spear, then sweeping the room. He detects no trace of magic.
Jacq then crouches to study the ground. Tracks crisscross the chamber - some humanoid, others smaller. They lead to and from both of the remaining doors, though the one to the northwest looks slightly more traveled.
Silvash remains in the center of the room, watching carefully as the others work, having found no signs of traps.
Both wooden doors remain shut. They’re old and weathered, but appear to still be sturdy.
"Okay, so this was awhile ago, but they never came back for this," Jacq says, added soon by a, "What the- hey, any of you know what this is?" She points at the runes in the wall.
While/if others look there, she continues looking around for their passage. "If I had a guess, they went through both doors and backtracked at some point more than once through this direction." She points to the northwest door. "Maybe they checked out this way, then explored elsewhere, then returned later to maybe rest or hide? Just guessing. Could be wrong."
Dorian moves closer and inspects the runes...Are they dwarven?
Silvash moves to the northwestern door and examines it for traps and if tries to see if it is locked.
Temerith looks at the runes to see if he recognizes anything about them.
As Jacq gestures toward the stone, Dorian and Temerith do not recognize the lettering, but as the light shifts just enough for the grime-streaked inscription to catch Silvash's eye. The elf steps closer, brow furrowing as the angular script resolves into something familiar - the Draconic language.
"Ashardalon..." - he read aloud quietly, the syllables curling off his tongue like an half-remembered curse.
Temerith leans in, squinting at the worn runes with scholarly curiosity. Though neither bard nor rogue is deeply trained in the lore of ages past, the name rings a distant bell - half-whispered tales overheard in dusty taverns or mumbled by passing historians more drunk than coherent.
Ashardalon. An ancient name, associated with a red dragon of legendary power and wrath. Stories say he was once worshipped as a god - or at least something close to one - by desperate mortals in a darker age. One tale places him at the heart of a cataclysm that left entire regions scorched and barren, including a place known as the Ashen Plain. Another speaks of a wound so terrible it changed his very nature. Whatever the truth, none here seem seasoned enough in the deep histories to untangle fact from legend.
At the northwestern door, Silvash finishes his inspection and finds no traps. The door seems to be unlocked.
Above, the fractured shaft of the tower looms. Light from Nee’s lantern dies into shadow before reaching the broken heights. Dust trickles silently from above, stirred by the faintest tremor, or perhaps just settling after long stillness.
Lanliss busies himself rolling up and securing the rope he had tossed to Dorian. If he has the means to pry out the second piton he used for that, he'll do so. But he'll leave the first piton used to secure Jacq's rope for when they come this way again to leave.
"I've traveled to a lot of places -- it's my job -- but I haven't gone underground very often. Already this is an exciting trip! And I bet we'll find the Hucrele kids. We just have to keep going forward!"
Silvash nods "That we do. I wonder how that dragon ties into this place? Shall we continue on?" When everyone is ready Silvash opens the northwest door.
Nee only catches a little of Silvash and Lanliss’ conversation.
”A…shardle on…? On what? On a dragon? Makes no sense. I agree - let’s keep moving…”
She moves to follow Silvash and Dorian through the door.
”I don’t know about exciting, Lanliss. It’s a bit cold and dank, and…well…kind of spooky, if I’m honest….” Nee trails off…
Dorian moves back to the center of the room and looks at both doors. and says, Aye Silvash, we go on. I be ready
"Lanliss, I really wish I had your optimism. From the looks of everything so far, I fear those kids are probably dead. But we gotta find out what happened either way."
Jacq cleans off the spear and straps it to her pack. No point in leaving it behind, given it looks quite well-made.
Lanliss' smile beams in the lamplight as he thinks about how much he's improving the group's morale.
Temerith thinks about the bard stories about dragons, and the epic heroes that had dealt with such creatures.... or armies. And Ashardalon? The name sends a shiver down his spine.
"Ancient history. If this place is that old I understand the shape it's in. The dangers might just be from extreme age."
"Doesn't mean we can relax though.:
"Here we go." Silvash says. He then opens the northwest door and takes a look through.
As Silvash eases the northwestern door open, the hinges creak faintly - but not loudly enough to echo - well-oiled by time and rot. The lanternlight spills forward, casting long shadows into a stone corridor.
The hallway ahead is lined with ancient flagstones, cracked but largely intact. Three doors await.
To the right stands a stout wooden door, dark with age and moisture. Opposite it, on the left wall, is a heavy stone door - this one subtly different. Even at this distance, the flickering lamplight reveals the hint of carved reliefs along its frame - too distant to make out clearly.
Further down, at the corridor’s end, looms a third door. Also wooden, it stands closed and unadorned - weathered, but seemingly intact.
From within the hall, no immediate sound can be heard.
"Interesting that whoever came through here politely shut the doors behind them," Jacq muses. "I could try to see where they went, but I expect we'll need to go through all of them. So which is it to be? Door number 1, 2, or 3?"
Dorian strides forward and pauses looking at the doors. Lets be seein what noises we hear behind em.
Silvash nods to Dorian and says "On it." He then heads down the hallway and proceeds to the door on the right and listens and checks it for traps.
+1 for traps
Temerith grins. "Right. Everyone be quiet."
Nee follows dutifully along down the corridor, wondering about shardles…and dragons. Waiting begind Dorian as Silvash plies his trade, Nee holds the lantern up to wash light over the relief on the stone door.
Then her gaze returns to the door at hand.
”I wonder why it’s particularly…wet…?” she says to no one in…particular.