DM Arctaris's page

In recap, now that I've returned from my trip.
You came into the room where you found the young man via a tunnel from this room.

The walls are covered with carefully etched runes, although they don't draw attention from the room's macabre centerpiece.

Standing at the apex of the slightly slanted floor is a massive iron chair, respledant in chains and spikes. It is shaped so as to accomdate a roughly man-shaped person, and hold them fast as well.

Radiating outwards from the chair are a series of lines arrayed in a careful patern; all perhaps a quarter's inch deep and leading to a slightly deeper canal at the base of the wall that rings the room.

You got to that room by walking down a corridor from the room where you fought the Overseer.

...and emerge into a cavernous chamber. The ceiling is at least 30ft above you, obscured by dark shadows and thick strands of some pallid tubules filled with black liquid that pulses regularly. The strands extend from a central nexus, a misshapen sack of black fluid suspended from the apex of the ceiling. As you look more closely you notice another pulsating, tumorous mass above it. It looks as if its grown right into the domed ceiling. A milky sack covers the alien mass, obscuring it’s details from vision. Thick strands of pale, rubbery white stringers extend from the occluded mass and merge with the walls near the floor, vanishing into the lower part of the tower. Four door-sized plates of something black and shiny are set into the slick black walls at regular intervals. The air in here is moist and humid, filled with an acrid stench that bites at the back of throat and nose.

Scattered about the room are short black pedestals with strange occult devices perched on them and hand sized divots in their otherwise smooth surfaces.

Which you got to by climbing the sinewy ladder from this room...

Sickly green vines studded with blood-red thorns cover the black walls and four dirty white ovals stand to your left, secured to the floor by dark grey slime. A slight breeze, hot and moist, circulates gently through the room, causing over a dozen bundles of spongy white threads to swing back and forth on the vines from which the hang. The air is warm and damp, filled with a vaguely fetid stench combined with the smell of decaying mulch coming up from the floor, which is covered in at least an inch of the stuff. A dull thump can barely be heard reverberating through the tower's walls every few seconds.

The ladder extends to the next floor, where a few vines have tentatively crept onto the unseen upper floor.

Which is above this room...

You easily ascend the sinewy ladder and peek over the edge of the next chamber's floor. The room is a completely dark but your keen dwarven vision cuts through the darkness. A desk, built for a short creature, sits in one corner and cages and book-filled shelves line the wall.

Which is above this room...

The ladder seems sturdy enough, although it looks more to be knotted sinew and viens that pulses a little than actual rope, and you ascend to the second floor easily. This room is very similiar to the one below you in layout, with a hole in the floor and ceiling.

The rope ladder continues unbroken to the next floor and a few racks of weapons sized for the kobolds stnd against the walls. Bits and pieces of possessions from previous victims cover the floor in several places with mounds of broken armor, weapons, and more mundane supplies.
A small section of the south side of the room is clear of weapons or 'treasure', bare except for a crumpled suit of armor. A small puddle of blood sits near it, slowly soaking into the floor.

Which is accessed via a rope ladder from the first floor...

The chamber, which is about 20 feet in diameter, is featureless except for a flimsy rope ladder leading through the 10 foot wide hole in the ceiling in the chamber. The ladder seems to lead to another room above you, with another hole in it's ceiling. Looking up, you can see several more floors, all with holes in them. The holes form a shaft leading straight up, presumably to the top of the tower.

Apologies for the wall of text.

Sorry for my lack of posting; I've had a busy few days preparing for a trip. I'll be completely without internet access until the 20th, at which time my posting should return to normal.

After a moment's hesitation, the young man follows you, trying to keep a safe distance between Anarath and Corvin. He remains silent, seeming a little dazed by the course of events and what he sees in the peculiar tower.
The tower is quite silent and still as you leave the out of place room and presumably, unless there's something else you'd like to do descend down the bony ladder.

Talius' posture stiffens as he eyes Corvin coldly, obviously insulted by his tone. "The only means of egress from this 'fancy house' is this door."
Turning to his gaze to Anarath, he asks "Please, explain what's happening.", his tone slightly more polite.

Talius shakes his head. Taking a deep breath he speaks "No. I don't know another way out. Who are you people? Why have you invaded my father's keep? What were those things?"

The cowering noble looks between you, and the corpses of what he thought were his guardians. After a moment he licks his lips nervously, and seems to decide that you are the lesser of two evils. Stuttering slightly, he asks "Where are we going?"

The vines, on closer inspection seem to be unable to move on their own, at least not from what little is exposed. Whether or not whatever it is is still alive, you have no way of knowing.

Anarath inspects the battered corpses, noting that their armor, while appearing to be metal, is more ceramic in quality, with the helmets formed from what seems to be tin. Cautiously lifting the helmet from one of the guards, he is greeted with the horrific site of a partially, poorly mummified human corpse. Strange, slick vines twist up out of the false armor's chest plate, winding in and out of the leathery flesh of the man's ripped out throat. It wraps around his face; twisting into his mouth and nose to emerge from his hollow eyes and pierce his skull.
At the site of the man's face, forever frozen in a silent, agonized scream of terror, Tallius slides to the floor, obviously in shock.

Corvin's weight and the force of his leap drives his opponent to the floor with a resounding crash. The wicked spikes on your armor drive into the oddly weak armor, causing a network or cracks to mar the brittle metal. The guard stirs feebly a few times before laying still.
The obviously terrified young man stands in stunned silence, looking between you with the manner of a trapped animal trying to find a way to escape.

His most recent post was on April 19th, so I'll take control of Dohrlok and Tzoltan for now and hope he returns.

Tzoltan takes another step back, taking careful aim with his crossbow and praying for a little luck. Unfortunately, his crosbow bolt bounces harmlessly off of the guards armor.
Dohrlok charges the guard, who's attention is focused on Corvin. He moves with surprising grace, slamming his shoulder hard into the guard's legs; something that should send the guard to the floor. Instead there's a brittle *crack* as the guard's armor splinters outward, twisting the leg grotesquely.
Turning to face this new threat, the guard turns his back to Corvin and swings his massive axe. The razor sharp blade cuts a thin but painful gash across the dwarf's back.
6 pts damage to Dohrlok and it is Corvin's go.

Bump. We're back in business guys.

Yes, Corvin smashed the side of its helmet in.

Awesome! Glad you're finally getting out of there.

Anarath's spell slams into the guard, driving him to the stone floor, leaving him twitching slightly as the magical flames dance across his armor. Cracks began to carve their way across what you had thought to be metal. Bits fall away and foul smelling steam issues from the fissures. The thing arches its back, uttering a wretched whimper beneath its obscuring helmet before lying still, steam still wafting up from its corpse.
Tallius tries to back slowly into the far corner of the room, an expression of pure terror on his face as he watches the guard's demise with horrified fascination.

Lets get this going again. As it stands
There is one guard remaining, facing Corvin.
Tallius is backed into a corner.
The guard that Anarath and Dohrlok faced is dead.
It is Tzoltan and then Dohrlok's go.

I'm moving today (about f+@%ing time I got out of this miserable hellhole), so I'm hoping to start the game up again by the end of the week.

Sorry I haven't posted here before. I am planning on continuing the game if you are still interested, however I (hopefully) be moving within the next two weeks and probably won't have time to update the game thread until then.

I have returned, and I apologize for my unnanounced abscence. I got busy with school and then work, and for a little while I honestly didn't feel like or have the energy to spend time on messageboards. I'll continue the game for any interested.

Corvin's blows hit home, striking the plate armor of his opponent. His armored fist slams into the guard's skull, the helemt unexpected crumpling like tin under the force of Corvin's blow. The guard raises his axe to swing again, apparently oblivious to having the side of his helmet smashed inwards.

Anarath

Could I get an attack roll from you Dohrlok? You can easily move within range of one of the guards.

One of the identical guards directs a clumsy blow at Corvin, the blade of the large weapon splintering a gaping hole in the door of the wardrobe.
The other guardsman takes another halting step forward and swings his axe at Anarath' trying to bisect him. Fortunately for the elf, his spell seems to have slowed the guards enough that he can avoid the strength of the blow. Even so, the sharp blade opens up a nasty gash along his arm 4pts to Anarath

Corvin's go

Anarath's spell doesn't bring the two warriors to their knees as he would have expected. Instead the slow, their movements becoming ponderous and a little clumsy, although they continue to advance upon you.

*pokes Anarath*

Initiative
Anarath 19
Tzoltan 18
Dohrlok 17
Guards 15
Corvin 13

The soldier approaching Anarath tilts his head stiffly slightly at the elf's words, but remains silent, continuing his advance.

Anarath

Tzoltan

Also, could I get initiative from everyone.

Tallius seems to have already come to this conclusion on his own and looking guilty at Anarath when he speaks, hand frozen mere inches from a bell-pull. In one sudden motion, he yanks the tassle and a distant bell can be heard clanging.

The reaction is surprisingly swift; within a minute two men armored in elaborate plate suits barge into the room, axes raised. Wordlessly one approaches Corvin while the other steps menacingly towards Anarath. They don't acknowledge Tallius' command "Don't kill them; father will want to question them.", uttered in a quavering voice as he backs as far as he can away from the impending fight.

Perception 20+

Anyone still in the tunnel

Busy few days, sorry folks.

With the help of a chest of drawers and then the wardrobe, Corvin manages to noisily ascend the wall, scraping and scarring both furniture and stone. Tallius looks like he wants to object, but he seems to think better of it after taking another look at Corvin.

The skylight is large, large enough for Corvin to slip through easily. The only complication would be the latticework of heavy iron that forms the frame. There isn't any visible latches or hinges to indicate that it can be opened.

4706, sorry
Tallius laughs again "Crawlspace? Good sir, if that hallway is a crawlspace to you, I am in envy of your home."

Tallius glances nervously at Corvin before looking back to Anarath. "The year? 4706 of course."
The room has a large skylight in the center of the ceiling, a good twenty feet above the floor. Apart from that, there aren't any windows, nor any exits apart from the small tunnel you came through.

He laughs again. "Kobolds? You sir, are insane; the last tribe in this area was slaughtered months ago."

Tzoltan

The young man laughs at Anarath "Good sir, I don't believe that I'm the loony in this situation. The butler is still here, as are all of the other people who should be. I must wonder though, how did you get this far into the Manor? Did you sneak in? I find that unlikely; this place is as much a fortress as a manor."

The man laughs "Abandoned? No, no the Manor is not abandoned. I saw the butler only a few hours ago, and the doctor just yesterday."
Bowing in an almost courtly fashion he says "And I, I am Tallius Grimmbold."

The man stands, nervously trying to peer around Corvin "H-how many of you are there? Why did you come here?"

The young man fiddles nervously with the quill in his hand "Uh, excuse me...sir...but the only one who is allowed entrance here is the butler and the doctor. I'm rather ill, you see. So, I have to wonderm who are you, why are you here, and how did you get this far into the Manor?"

When Corvin pulls himself into the room the man turns around, his impatient and annoyed expression swiftly switching to one of shock. He looks like he's young, early twenties by your judgement. Staring at Corvin with piercing blue eyes, he seems speechless for a moment. "You are...not the butler."

Apologies for letting this lapse. Everyone looking/going down the tunnel, please read Tzoltan's spoiler.

Tzoltan makes it to the end of the passage without either finding or triggering any traps.
Tzoltan

Ok; hope you have a good vacation.

Afer a few minutes of work with his crowbar, Tzoltan's efforts pay off. The square in the wall detaches, revealing a small passage in the wall. Although the perfect size for a kobold, to such taller folk as yourself, it is a crawlspace. About 30 feet down the small tunnel, you can see dim light.

Tzoltan goes to work on the wall, prying at stiff panel. At first he doesn't get any results, but after a few moments work the panel gives a little, and the gap widens slightly. A few minutes work should be sufficient to pry the panel from the wall and reveal its secrets.

Anarath, once again the room gleams with arcane power.

A perception check from everyone please, and apologies for my absence; got involved in some rl stuff.

Tzoltan, you notice the roughly square crack in the wall, but you don't see a way for it to be opened. The spikes seem firmly affixed, so you doubt that they could be part of a trap that involves them springing from the wall to impale you. You can see a faint sheen of moisture on the spikes.

Corvin crosses over to the panel without incident.

Corvin

Corvin approaches the spikes unhindered. They seem to be a simple set of iron spikes set into the wall.

Corvin, could I get a Perception check from you.

Tzoltan's search seems to be fruitless until he finds a set of small black iron spikes set into the wall across from the door at about waist height.

Under Anarath's arcane gaze, the entire room comes to life with arcane energy.
Although the glyphs on the wall glimmer with magic from every school, the most powerful aura, that of necromancy and transmutation, emanates from the chair. The energy coming from it is overwhelming; almost painful to percieve.
Anarath

Upon closer inspection, the lock itself proves to be the weak point, and after a few minutes work with his hammer and chisel, the lock is broken and the heavy door reluctantly swing inward on poorly oiled hinges. Beyond the door is a large, circular room. The walls are covered with carefully etched runes, although they don't draw attention from the room's macabre centerpiece.
Standing at the apex of the slightly slanted floor is a massive iron chair, respledant in chains and spikes. It is shaped so as to accomdate a roughly man-shaped person, and hold them fast as well.

Radiating outwards from the chair are a series of lines arrayed in a careful patern; all perhaps a quarter's inch deep and leading to a slightly deeper canal at the base of the wall that rings the room.

E is for Emotional, ruins everybody's day...

The blade bites into Corvin's flesh, drawing a steady stream of dark blood. Where the blood meets the moss, the moss seems to almost wither; dropping away from the iron door in large chunks. Within a moments, the door is clear of the mossy stuff, a small lock now visible near the base of the door.

Corvin's blow to the door produces a loud clang that is oddly muffled by the walls, but no other real effect. The blade remains affixed to the mold encrusted door, and no damage is inflicted upon Corvin or his armor.

DC 18 Perception

DC 20 Knowledge (Arcana or Dungeoneering)

Oddly enough, there doesn't seem to be any mechanism attached to the blade. It appears to be a simple blade crudely attached to the moss-encrusted door.

Anarath's arcane sight reveals no magic about the door.

Tzoltan's search is a little more fruitful; upon closer inspection he spies a small, blood-stained blade affixed to the raised part of the door. Oddly enough, it appears as though no effort whatsoever was made to conceal the razor-sharp blade.

DM Arctaris wrote:

Sorry 'bout the delay. Got caught up in some RL stuff.

Yeah, what's your bloody problem? ;P

Mostly slightly overdue history papers.

Sorry 'bout the delay. Got caught up in some RL stuff.

It takes a while of working at it, but Tzoltan at last manages to get it to click open.

The heavy iron door opens easily enough to reveal a steep stairway spiraling impossibly into an up that shouldn't exist within the apparent dimensions of the tower. At the top of the narrow stair way is another door, tightly shut.

The door is covered in a thick layer of some sort of green moss, with only a small square of bloodstained iron poking through. What looks like a lock is encrusted with a heavy sheet of the green moss.

The passage up the sinewy ladder through the tower is an uneventful if unpleasant one. Nothing save for your own passage disturbs the cool, damp air of the tower. The tower is lit only by the dimmest light, although the source of the slight illumination eludes you.

Soon you come to the top chamber, where everything is as you left it.

Noting disturbs you as you poke around or attempt to open the door.

An Disable Device check whenever you try to open the door Tzoltan. Let me know if any of you decide to investigate anything in the Overseer's chamber.

Sorry about the silence; I've been at work and then with friends for Halloween (turns out that dressing as a hobo and staggering down the street shouting is pretty damn fun). I should get a post up on the game thread tomorrow afternoon/Sunday.

Clutching the dried scrap of skin, Anarath pushes through the membranous tower wall, emerging into the dim first floor of the tower. The air is cold and smells strongly of rotten flesh. An oily liquid ocassionally drips down the long shaft at the center of the tower, it's dripping the only thing to break the silence of the tower.