Cath turns from where he and Langblade struggle with the rubble. "It goes as well as it may." The pit fighter says wiping the sweat of his brow with the back of his hand.
"Though it would go quicker, hrg-" Landblade pushes over a particularly heavy stone. "If everyone helped." She finishes with an irritated glance at the two of the group not active with the clearing.
"I already explained, there is not enough room for all of us in the passage. We'd just get in each other's way." Tainesh recites, with the air of a long-suffering professor. Langblade just snorts and returns to the task, adjusting the sword-belt to better be able to reach the fallen detritus. A sharp eye might have caught Caths quick grin at the exchange but it is soon gone with the strain of labor.
The grin on Umros's face, however, is bright and apparent for all to see as he skips over to where the fighters had made headway in the clearing. "I can help!" He beams up to the pair, "I'm small!" and true to his word he ducks in between the two and starts worrying at a stone much the same size and shape as a cantaloupe.
The trio continue in this manner for a good half-hour before Cath and Langblade confer and conclude that they are likely near the end of the blockage. "Nothing like a little honest labor to keep the bones limber!" Umros quips as he leans on one of the remaining stones. Cath looks to be about to agree before his eyes widen in the dim torch-light, he reaches out to try and grab the Gnome as the stones begin to give way!
"Look ou-!" Langblade's voice is cut off by the mounting roar of rocks falling into the short passageway! Umros and Cath tumble forward into blackness, their torch sputtering and dying in a hail of dirt and rocks. It's pitch black when the fighter and wanderer open their eyes. A gasping coughing sound lets them know that the other fighter, Langblade is nearby.
"Well, s&*~." The raven-haired warrior says in the darkness. "Does anybody have a light?" The sounds of searching fill the oppressive space and before too long a sputtering flame is brought to life by the half-elf from Dutos. A brief appraisal of their situation reveals that most of Umros and Caths belongings made it through the avalanche, though Langblades pack was too far from the work area. All she had after the collapse was her armor and sword, though she jokes that the items are all she needs.
Before too long the trio give up hope on the rest of their party making it through the newly filled passageway. Resigning themselves to the trek yet further underground they begin making their way through the long-disused tunnel.
Back in the spider cavern above the wizard and ranger give a token effort at clearing the rocks out and searching for their companions before deciding it's a lost cause. Figuring their best bet at recouping the cost of their adventure was to cut their losses and return to Sharlstown. They make good time and are soon back in the town, though both studiously avoid confronting the grieving mother. Sparks returns to her labors at bow-making and lives a quiet peaceful life, now relocated south to Dutos where there's more of a market.
Tainesh signs on with the next adventuring group that comes through the town. She goes on to become a powerful and well known wizard and full fledged adventurer.
The three in the long-dead tunnel pick their way gingerly down through the uncertain footing, the way much more difficult than the previously thought abandoned tunnels leading to the cavern of the Golgoroth. They walk for a few hours before, for the first time since leaving the Dwarven home above, they see light in the tunnel that doesn't belong to them! The flicker of a fire or torch can be seen ahead along the shadowy path!
Okay! After a brief hiatus I have a question for the party! What do you do next?
The quiet sounds of the cavern fill the air as the party settles down for the "night." Bedrolls are unfurled and filled while eyes shut, with the fatigue of the past day softly taking each away from the conscious world.
Boring:
1d2 ⇒ 2 1d2 ⇒ 2 1d2 ⇒ 2 1d2 ⇒ 2 1d2 ⇒ 1
1d100 ⇒ 61 1d100 ⇒ 75 1d100 ⇒ 58 1d100 ⇒ 10
Umros doesn't notice anything during his watch, and he gently wakes Cath, so too does the evening progress, with each waking the next in line until all finally have their rejuvenating sleep.
Cath:
You open your eyes to see the warm amber hues of a pit. Slatted wooden walls raise on all sides as the jeering of countless species pours over the top. Your opponent is reeling from the last blow you dealt them, but they are not out of the fight yet. You ready yourself as they come back swinging. Attempting to duck out of the way you pivot and twist and deal a passing, though vicious, back hand to send the other fighter staggering over and into a wall.
A thick spatter of blood streaks itself over and down as your opponent crumples to the dirt floor. The jeers of the crowd erupt into cheers and you let yourself relax as the fight comes to a close. You're about to turn for the exit when the pit begins to move, slowly, ponderously, but definitely. The floor bucks and turns under your feet, gently like waves on a day of little wind. You start to lose your balance and as you fall forward, so too does the floor fall away from you, leaving a melted hole stretched out as if in taffy.
The ground envelopes you in a warm embrace, strong and impossible to break free from. You feel yourself carried aloft as if on clouds made of dirt and blood and your vision blurs until all you can see is mere blotches of color. This is how you wake, sweat only just starting to pool under your armor.
Sparks:
A bright green meadow fills your gaze, the sounds of bird song fills the air and you see your family, resting in a hidden glen. The warm sunlight illuminates an idyllic scene as each of them settle down on the springy turf, a blanket laid out and a basket filled with food for a leisurely meal.
You smile at the sight and join them, their bubbly chatter weaves and turns like a spring through the woods from topic to topic and you feel yourself relaxing and relishing the idle time spent in their company. Once or twice you think you hear something in the woods, just out of sight. A low buzzing, or rumbling sound. But there is nothing there and you need not worry. This is how you wake, with the happy sounds of your families voices in your ears.
Tainesh:
A long straight corridor filled with countless doorways. Each uniform and exacting in construction. Each unlocked and, though closed, open to you, should you wish it. As you walk, feet inches off the carpeted floor, you survey the doors, idly opening first one, then the other, then the other, then the other.
Each opens onto a different scene. One, a room, empty save for a table, and on the table, a corpse. But not a nasty, vile corpse, but a clean, human corpse. Carefully cut open and laid bare for examination. A second room shows a waterfall of color, each droplet of spray an unknowable symphony of thought. A third opens to a cave, similar to the one you are sleeping in, but colder, darker, deeper. You do not go into that room.
Each room is that room. Each room is the cave. Each room is colder, darker, deeper than the last. You cannot escape. There is no hallway. There are no doors. You are in that cave. You are in that cave. You are in that cave. You are in that cave. You are in that cave. You are in that cave. You are that cave. You are in that cave. You are in that cave. You are in that cave. You are in that cave. This is how you wake, body rooted to the floor in paralysis, but before you can cry out, it releases it's hold and you are able to move again.
Umros:
You know this place, you have walked these paths. For nearly a hundred years you explored the lands of slumber, and it's twists and turns are familiar to you. This is a dream. Still, for it being a dream, it is a pleasant one. The air is crisp and the wooded area bright and inviting. You start to walk towards the trees, and they bend and part, opening a path for your travelers feet.
The ground is springy underfoot, hardly like the rough dirt trails of the real world. Here is a world worth living in! You smile and break into a sprint, no longer weighted with your heavy pack and countless years of age. You are young again! Young and free! You know this place!
Wait, you know this place! It is imminently familiar to you. Not in that passing way in which one might recognize the layout of a new city, but in that intimate way one knows the stretches and wrinkles of a lover. You have been here before, years ago, decades ago, a century ago? You can't remember. But you do remember this path. It curves ahead. Yes, to the right, and then through that copse! There! You see her, shining bright, just like you remembered.
She's not the same. The details are different, but she bears the same beatific smile you knew for ages past. And why shouldn't she look different? Haven't you changed in your time apart? You go to her, hands at your side, but rising to meet her, almost unbidden. She smiles again, and opens her arms to you. As you walk towards her you sing the song in your heart, the song in your chest, the song that pumps your blood.
But something is wrong. You can't reach her. She smiles, but is still so distant. You look deep into her eyes. Something is wrong. Her eyes are begging, pleading for help. Something is wrong. You need to wake up. Something is wrong. You can't reach her. Something is wrong. You need to wake up. Her form begins changing, diminishing. You need to wake up. She shrinks from what she once was, though she still smiles. Something is wrong. Her eyes are pleading, begging for help. You need to wake up. Something is wrong.
This is how you wake, with a burning piercing sensation engulfing your small hands, the image of your long off lover melting into nothing.
Langblade:
You have a restful nights sleep.
Morning comes with no change in the atmosphere of the room save the all too apparent passing of time.
Okay! After a brief hiatus we're back and you're all leveled up! Huzzah!
How is everybody on leveling their characters, it looks like Sparks and Umros are good to go? Anybody have questions, or want help with their chars? Feel free to ask.
JoaT should definitely be a profession, go for it Umros!
Umros finds a single line in the journal regarding Heather and wax. It says: "Gonna try to pick up some heather and wax, Granna always said it was good for keeping evil at bay. Couldn't hurt to have it with me."
Umros has heard over the course of his studies of a paste called Predators Acumen. There have been many ways to make it, but the only universally agreed upon requirements are ingredients that come from predatory animals. It is generally accepted that the more variety, the more potent the paste when ingested. With the ingredients Umros has collected, including the spider ichor he just harvested, the Gnome feels confident he can produce his own variant of the bitter consumable.
Basically: Bear Liver Oil, Wolf Bile, Boiled and crushed Bear claw, and ground chalk (to bind it) would produce one serving of Predators Acumen. It is supposedly very bitter to taste, perhaps the berries or wine might ease the flavor a bit?
When ingested it grants +1 to Initiative checks for a 24 hour period. However, to ingest, the consumer has to pass a DC10 Fort save to keep the concoction down. Adding a more palatable flavor lowers the DC by 2. Also, the paste goes inert 4 hours after it is first produced, it takes 2 hours to brew and mix the components.
In addition to the Spider Ichor (take as many "servings" as you'd like) Umros was able to harvest 2d6 ⇒ (5, 2) = 7 units of Spiders Poison: injury; save Fort DC 14; frequency 1/round for 4 rounds; effect 1d2 Strength damage; cure 1 save.
Sparks:
With the help of the Gnome, Sparks is able to harvest:
2d6 ⇒ (2, 3) = 5 doses of Spiders Poison:injury; save Fort DC 14; frequency 1/round for 4 rounds; effect 1d2 Strength damage; cure 1 save.
Yes, soon after he arrives in Dutos. The Gnome tries to think back to that home in the cave and what he remembers from it. He's a little fuzzy on the details, but he recalls to mind that Dwarven lifespans easily stretch past one hundred years. The one they spoke with in the cave looked to be seasoned, though certainly not elderly. The room he was in is a different matter, Umros can't remember ever learning the particulars of stonecraft, though one detail sticks out. When he was climbing up the ladder and out of the home, the "hinge" where the trap door swiveled had many and deep groves in the stone. Such scratches as those could only be the product of years of use.
With a little working Umros is able to turn the key in the lock, however when he goes to open it, the door appears to be welded shut! Sparks lends her aid and is able to shake the grating somewhat, but no real progress is made. However when Cath grabs hold of the ancient iron bars he easily pops the door open with a quiet "pang" oxidized iron rust falls to the floor from where it had accumulated around the hinges and contact points. The door, once broken loose, opens easily enough and the three are able to explore the small antechamber beyond.
The room isn't large, especially after the massive round cavern it's connected to, but it is a sight cleaner than the refuse ridden spider nest. There is of course the small bedroll and crate with candle and leather bound book that you saw from the other side of the grating, but there is one detail that wasn't seen from the other side. To the left of the room there is what appears to be a passage way, or at least what's left of one. It is apparent that the rubble and debris that fills the hall has been there for quite some time, closing off the little chamber from whatever lies beyond.
Knowledge (Engineering) DC15:
Upon closer examination, you're fairly certain that while the cave-in does a good job of blocking off the passage, a little clever work would clear it out fairly quickly. Assuming the rubble only extends a couple meters down the passage...
The only item of real interest in the room is the little journal, sitting on the crate near the candle...
First Entry at beginning of book:
The text is in Elven, elegant flowing script from an educated hand:
We've done it! Sonnet and I have made the move to Sharlstown! We've got a nice little cottage near the Northern end of town, the front is our shop, almost overflowing with all our tanning supplies and wares! We are so excited to open in a few days! It seems that finally our dreams are coming true, we've got our own place, our own business, and the baby is almost here. I've never been so happy, Sonnet has never been so happy. They said I was wasting my life moving to this tiny little hamlet, but this is what we wanted. A quiet corner of the world to call our own, to raise our child (maybe children!) in peace. The future looks bright and shinning and I can't wait to see what lies in store!
Random Entry near the middle of the book:
The text is in Elven, though it shares some similarity to the first entry, the hand seems heavier, the lines thicker and more splotches and smudges of ink seem to foul the page:
She's gone. The light of my life, my sun and stars, Sonnet is gone. I still can't believe it, this past month has been hard on both of us... With Leena's disappearance, no, with her abduction we have both been through seven hells but still. I never expected this. Sonnet had been mad with grief, I know, but she wasn't the type to take her own life. I found her in our bed, no note, just her lifeless body, red lines of hate gouged down her arms and that cursed dagger with it's fancy inlays of lines and lines and lines. I've always hated that thing, ever since the Mayor gave it to us as a housewarming gift it has creeped me out with it's patterns of strange symbols and the etching of some unknown sea-creature, damned blade. And now, with it gripped in her lily-white hand as her life drained out onto the wooden planks below. I'll never be able to erase that image from my mind. It's all their fault all these damned people in this damned town! They wouldn't even look for her! Leena. Our love, our only child. Gone without a trace and the guard, the Mayor, NO ONE! No one would help us search, even admit that something was wrong! Only the children would talk of our little Leena, only the children with their words and games, their cries of the Bright Lady! The Shining Woman! Don't let her find you! Hide hide hide!
Still, the children are the only lead I have left. I will find this Bright Woman, and I will take back what was stolen from me!
I've already sold everything. I couldn't spend another moment in that house. I'm on the road to Dutos, I plan to buy the best gear, the best weapons I can. Then I will find Her, and I will kill Her.
Last Entry about three quarters the way through the book:
Though still in Elven, the printing on this page is perfect. Mechanical. There are no errors or errant marks. Though the voice is the same, the printing is markedly dissimilar to the writing of the earlier entries:
What is this place? What have I found? I've been down here for what feels like weeks, months, years? NO! No, it's only been days. Only days... I can't focus any more, not since I found them. Whatever they are. I wasn't ready, I don't think I'd ever be ready. Gods, I'm a TANNER, just a lost, broken Tanner, with nothing left but this sword, this bow, this hate that has fueled me for so long. I can't remember the last time I saw the sun. I've marked my progress as best I could, ran out of paper for the tunnel that led to them. Maybe it's for the best. Leena, leena, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry, baby. I've failed you, I, I can't find you. I can't face them. I can't face Her...
Here there is a break in the page, and the writing starts to become more familiar, much more similar to the penmanship of the earlier entries:
I will write this last in my own hand. If you should find this journal, know that I am a coward, and I fled from the horror that I am convinced stole my child. The darkness that fills the tunnels beyond, the tunnels that I collapsed behind me, is beyond anything I knew existed. The people, the Woman, they are not people, She is not a Woman. I don't know why they took Leena from me and I fear I never will know. The mammoth chamber before me is filled with webs, I think I've heard things, monsters lurking in the darkness. I am scared, but anything is better than retracing my steps. As I write this, I am steeling myself against the path that lies before me, I hope I make it out, make it to warn others of the horror that steals children. But if I don't, I leave this last will and testament to whoever finds it. Take this, take my words and flee. Do not search further for that which hides down here in the untold dark. Get out while you can, and pass my warning to the world. A warning of the horror that is the Shining Lady.
-Ether Gales
Here the writing stops for the last time. The rest of the pages beyond this one are blank.
The wine flask seems unnaturally perserved, until you remember that it had been in a static dimension all these years. Uncorking the stopper you see that it doesn't hold wine, but instead water with something floating in it?
You recognize a sprig of heather, but the small cream colored globules elude you. Should you take a sip, you'd realize that its congealed candle-wax.
Knowledge (History, Arcane, or Nature DC10) {Umros Only}:
You remember hearing old wives tales about heather and wax being used to ward off the undead. You don't know if it's effective, however.
Derp, totally forgot about trying to determine the age:
Umros, Sparks:
Upon careful examination of the body(ies) the only thing immediately apparent is that they are old. The guise of the "townspeople" is fairly generic and commonplace, without advanced study of anatomy and natural sciences it would be hard to determine exactly how or when they died, but you feel confident that it was more than a century past. The bones and tattered garments are bare and dry to the touch.
However, the well equipped body seems even older. It wouldn't be ridiculous to think that it had been there for well over 200 years, despite the relatively good condition of the gear left behind.
As for cause of death, it is far too late to speak with any certainty on the deceased. But you do notice scratches along many of the bones. Maybe from teeth? Or mandibles?
Sparks:
The pot and pan seems straightforward enough, thing is, most that she has seen have been round in shape whereas these are rather hexagonal. Strange.
Umros:
You easily spot the keyhole in the iron grate. It looks to be the right size and shape, and as far as you can tell there don't appear to be any traps on the door.
First off, the gear the person was wearing was a suit of Studded Leather armor, a dagger, Light Wooden Shield, and a +1 Shortsword. The bow is a Composite Longbow (+2).
Okay, so I'm gonna go ahead and assume that everyone that figured out what stuff was, told everyone else what they knew. No rogues in this party, heh.
The pots and pan of iron are clearly very old, or perhaps very foreign as their design is not recognizable and unfamiliar. The quill and ink at first blush appear fairly mundane, but it's quickly determined that the carefully carved feather has been enchanted with some sort of Unseen Servant spell. It can write on it's own as long as someone is dictating to it! The ink is ink, though surprisingly still liquid after all this time. Perhaps due to some sort of preserving factor from the bag it was stored in?
There are 7 sheets of unmarked vellum, and 4 scrolled sheets. Three of these sheets are in fact Spell-Scrolls!
There is one scroll of Break, one of Erase, and one finely written one with brilliant illuminations drawn in the margins, a scroll of Fireball (Level 5).
The fourth sheet isn't a spell, but rather a hand-drawn map. A map of the tunnel system you seem to be exploring! Many elements of it seem familiar to your path, but there is much that isn't. Does anyone examine it fully?
The coin purse is mundane, but contains 147 gold pieces, 38 silver pieces, and 86 copper pieces! Yay!
There are 3 torches, one partially burnt, and with them is a Smokestick and a Tindertwig. The last small stick appears to be a wand of CLW (It has 29 charges).
The industrious gnome is able to collect enough raw materials to fashion something similar to tanglefoot bags, but the wanderer would be the first to admit they don't look anything like the items you could buy in most markets. For one thing, these aren't bags, the only item the follower of Desna could find to hold the viscous semi-fluid were the lower portions of the giant spiders legs. The somewhat conical exoskeleton, once emptied of muscle tissue, worked to hold the webbing in place, roughly capped with half-rotted splintery box-wood. Umros thinks they will have to thrown especially hard to cause the chitin to break apart upon impact, but by their elongated design he thinks they will be easier to throw than the traditional bags he's used to.
IE: If you ever use them, take a free +10 of range but +3 AC to whatever target you're trying to hit. To simulate the hardness of the chitin and the ease to throw (think those German grenades that look like weighted sticks).
If you choose to craft these, you collected enough for two "tanglefoot sticks" and it would take you two hours to craft them.
Sparks:
You've heard of many light causing spells, and you're certain that Umros cast one of these, but you're unsure as to which one.
Cath, you certainly can! I think it's fair that, barring outrageous circumstances, you should be able to aid on any sort of skill check.
Tainesh:
The room takes shape in the minds eye of the wizard as she cast about seeking the unseeable. Slowly details start to take shape as if through a black fog. Faint colors and shapes sharpen until they are recognizable as elements in the room before her. The most prominent one is the rapidly diminishing aura of twisted and bastardized magic that surrounds the dead Golgoroth. Then there are of course the magical items and auras around her and her companions, but these are easily filtered out as she focuses on the rest of the chamber.
There is little and less around the majority of the room, and the idea that there isn't anything real to find in this dark corner of the world occurs to her. But that's when she notices where the others are uncovering the remains of those seemingly long dead. Most of the bodies are inert, with whatever aura they may have exhibited in life, long since fled. But the last one, the one wearing armor, that one is positively dripping in auras. Though none of them suggest life, they all are distinct and sharply emanate from the items they are bound to.
The strongest is an aura of conjuration from the satchel hanging from the corpses body. At second glance, almost all the other auras are coming from the items dropped out of said sack onto the floor. If you'd like to identify the items, since you know they are magical, you'll need Spellcraft and Knowledge (Arcana) checks. One for each item you want to identify.
The remaining webs slowly burn away as the embers from the wizard's spell work their way through the dry remnants of the den. With the light from Umros, and Langblades torch now retrieved by the warrior, you see that there is little of obvious threat left in the large underground hall. It’s obvious when you look around that this chamber, unlike the pillared one from before, has not seen intelligent life in quite some time. There likely were murals and carvings here, but everything lies broken under a thick layer of detritus and arachnid waste. So to do the apparent exits seem to be either destroyed or caved in.
Rotted and shattered crates and boxes litter the chamber, full of filth that once were surely goods of some sort. The walls of stone you can see are covered in dirt and other unidentifiable stains. A couple things stand out and catch the eyes of the searchers though, two things specifically.
Firstly behind a stack of boxes is a wrought iron gate set into the stone wall. It is locked, but you can see through the bars that someone had set up what looks to be a one-person camp in the small antechamber. The old long dead ashes of a fire lie next to a dusty but undisturbed outline of a bedroll. There are a few other odds and ends in the little room, but the only thing of note is a worn leather notebook resting next to a half-melted candle on a small box.
Second the battle-worn spelunkers discover a small mound buried under layer after layer of webbing not yet burned by the slow progression of fiery energy. A little digging reveals that the mound is comprised entirely of the grisly remains of creatures, many of which are humanoid...
After some effort you discover that the majority of bodies seem to be simple villagers as they wear the old, even ancient garb of farmers, shepherds, and wood cutters. The gear that lay neglected across the floor seems to confirm this as you find several simple axes a few rakes and plowshares, though oddly it seems most of these implements were at one point sharpened beyond what is needed for their respective mundane uses. Just as you're about to cease your investigation, you discover another body, this one much better equipped for the environment you find yourselves in.
The creature wears a simple travelers outfit, though girded over it's chest is a suit of sturdy leather armor. A quiver of rotted arrows lies strapped across it's back next to a bow no longer sporting a string. Gripped in it's hand is a shortsword glimmering where it catches the light, a literal death grip holds it in place even after all these apparent years. Slung from the deceased's side, next to an empty scabbard and sheathed dagger, is an unadorned canvas sack.
Upturning the sack causes it's contents to spill out onto the floor. Far more items than you would think could be contained in such a small space. A pot, pan, and wine flask fall to the ground along with other minor cooking implements. A fine quill and ink bottle accompany several sheets of loose vellum as well as a handful of scrolled documents. A small purse jingling with loose coin lands next to several clear flasks full of liquids of various hues and opacity. Several torches, including one that had seen some use, lie bundled with three other small sticks. Lastly with a quiet metallic thud a heavy iron key comes to rest amidst the small pile of equipment and with that the bag finally seems to be emptied.
Alright, that's what y'all find. Feel free to roll what you think makes sense to identify items if you'd like. :)
The expansive cavern seems to eat up noise now that the fighting has ceased. The movements and dialog of the group barely seeming to cut the silence of so ancient a place. From the flickering of the torchlight you can see the gnome where he lies on the floor.
1d3 ⇒ 3 Umros took 3 CON damage from the poison. Sorry buddy!
His eyes rolled back into his head the wanderer of Desna looks to be lifeless, but through the ministrations of Cath and Tainesh the bleeding at least stops. It is uncertain though if he's fully out of danger yet.
Sparks, or anyone else who wants to know Umros condition/how best to help him, will need to roll a Heal check DC13.
Umros:
You are currently stable and at 0 hp. (unless you see a glaring error, heh) Still need that FORT save to resist the poison, though I think your CON modifier has gone from 1, to -1. So bear that in mind I guess.
Also, anyone planning on helping Umros, please consider action economy, as his condition is likely to fluctuate every round.
Sparks arrow strikes right where Cath had landed his heavy blow moments before and severs the limb from it's body! The Golgoroth thrashes in pain, legs jerking and spasming as it struggles to keep it's footing. As the beast is distracted by the loss of a limb, Cath sprints forward and finds an opening in the foul abominations abdomen. With a vicious upwards slash, the fighter from the city opens the Golgoroth from belly to head! A gush of gore and innards runs out on the dirty floor as the behemoth seems to collapse on itself as its life-force soaks into the stone ground.
The beast of ancient magic is dead.
With the magic of the elder spider dissipating, so too do the swarms. Each individual spider off to a life of it's own, whatever that may bring...
You guys did it! Encounter passed, huzzah! Now you may want to tend to your wounds. I'll get up a post-game carnage report up hopefully sometime tonight/tomorrow. But well done!
That's fine Umros, if you've got a bonus that beats the DC no need to roll for it in my opinion.
Tainesh and Umros:
You know from your studies and travels that swarms of vicious creatures are nasty to deal with. Though individually they don't pose too much of a threat, in number they can reduce even the bravest warriors to tattered hunks of flesh. Conventional weapons are not super effective against swarms though you can of course do damage with them. It's better to use area of affect spells or arsenal as it is more sure to find it's target.
Cath:
You've stepped on your share of spiders and other creepy crawlies in your time. But a whole floor covered in them? You think that probably wouldn't be the most effective way of dealing with a swarm.
The Rangers arrow and Wizards bolt both find their mark at nearly the same time, leaving deep holes in the rapidly deteriorating armor of the Golgoroth. Umros hurls his bottle of burning chemicals and after bouncing once it shatters dousing one of the swarms in the harsh fluid. Spiders die by the hundreds as the liquid eats through their newly formed bodies, reducing them to so much muck and slag. But the swarm as a whole continues forward.
Cath executes his roll perfectly, but old webbing catches on his boot as he comes to his feet. The mammoth spider lunges at his momentary lapse.
AoO no:
1d20 + 6 ⇒ (1) + 6 = 7
It misses but it's just enough to throw Cath's swing off, heavy blade whistling as it passes it's target a hairs-breadth away. Fortunately though the distraction affords Langblade a chance to carve a bloody gouge out of the beasts side.'
The vicious Golgoroth staggers visibly under the combined onslaught. It turns to face it's tormentors and for a moment you think you might see something beyond mere thoughtless murder in the creatures eyes. Is that, what, fear? Sadness? But the moment passes and the alien eyes once more reveal nothing other than determination to slaughter.
It's chitin clatters and clicks as the beast moves with surprising agility rushing past Langblade towards Umros and the pair of bow-wielding antagonists in the rear of the room!
As it scuttles towards the rear-guard, it lowers it's body to where it's mandibles are even with the height of a gnome. Though he see's the attack coming, there's nothing Umros can do to prevent the mythical creature from running him through with the two piercing points! There is a sickening sound that echos through the cavern as the massive spider raises itself up, lifting the small wanderer with it, before slamming back down to the ground. It's a wonder that the bardic gnome is able to keep his feet as the blood, tinged with something foul, runs from the twin wounds in his chest!
Not satisfied, the Golgoroths gaze alights upon the next closest interloper. Raising a scared and wounded leg, it strikes at the Ranger with all the force it's failing limbs can muster! Sparks feels a crushing pain in her shoulder as the strike hits home. The legs apparently aren't pointed enough to pierce skin, but the power behind the attack nearly breaks bones with it's force! The hunter from the woods feels a magical pulse accompanying the strike, spreading through her like hot tar it bubbles up at the edge of her psyche. A gnawing ache of uncertainty and hopeless terror that preys upon her mind!
Meanwhile the crawling carpets of spiders scuttle forward, intent on finishing what the Golgoroth started.
Landblade and Cath both get an AoO if you want!
Whew! That was a good round! *evil laugh* Okay, so Umros take 13 DMG and I'll need a FORT save DC17 from you. Sparks take 11 DMG and I'll need a WILL save DC13 or be Shaken for 3d6 ⇒ (1, 3, 2) = 6 rounds. Also, forgot to mention it for those still shaken from the begining. There are 6 rounds left of that!
Two arrows whistle off into the corners of the cavern, but one heavy bolt lands with a sickening thud deep in the eye of the beast. It recoils in pain as gore flows from the wound, a grotesque shudder runs the length of the creature as it's remaining eyes alight upon the crossbow wielding wizard.
It looks as though the enormous Golgoroth is going to make a beeline for Tainesh, but a vicious swing from Cath nearly severs one of the limbs off of the foul abomination. Langblade follows with a slash of her own, opening a new wound in the creatures "face" just as Cath starts to twist his blade! However the splash of acid that leaves oozing burns on the spiders back also lands on Caths arm, causing him to flinch back at the last second.
Cath takes 1 acid damage.
Writhing from the myriad wounds the unnatural fiend lets forth a blood-turning hiss and clacks it's mandibles together in fury. Rearing back, it unleashes a thick stream of silk at the crossbow and the one who holds it!
Perhaps though, it's aim is thrown off by the loss of vital fluids it has sustained. The vine of adhesive rope splatters to the ground harmlessly. Still, the beast is able to lash out in it's pain, again trying to skewer the raven haired blade woman! And again Langblade is ready for it, braced she shrugs off the powerful blow!
Perception DC5:
It seems as though the magical creatures cry of pain has resonated through the ground, calling forth veritable carpets of young spiders, seemingly newly hatched. They rush forward in a nauseating flood of black!
The gnome begins to sing, the elf releases her arrows, the wizard tampers with the power under all power, and the man with the shield begins to bang on it, drawing the beast, stinking of foetid bile, towards him with frightening speed. But he doesn't stand alone.
Two arrows zip overhead before the Golgoroth reaches the warriors, and Langblade gives out a 'whoop' as one of the missles strikes true, drawing blood-red ichor from the wound. The creature seems to ignore it as it scuttles, unervingly quiet, towards Cath. Lashing out with hardened mandibles seeking to pierce the steel hide of this strange, two-legged intruder!
Cath feels his arm shudder with the impact as he brings his shield up just in time! Two small holes tell the tale of where the Golgoroths mandibles struck! Rebuffed by the pit-fighter, the beast raises a massive leg and lashes out, blackened tip glimmering like a lance in the flickering fire of the torch. But Langblade is ready for it, bringing her sword up and across, she bats the attack away and leans in for a vicious stab in the creatures jointed armor!
Nice first round! You guys are up! 8 more rounds of being Shaken!
The archer has heard tales of monsters and creatures terrible to behold. Most of which are attributed to the drinking of old men. But every now and then somebody comes by with a claim that is all to somber to disregard. The stories she's heard talk about mammoth spiders, like a Queen or Wife or Mistress to groups of potential suitors, themselves overly large for their species. As her keen eyes focus on the slick exoskeleton of an enormous leg, she can only assume that those particular tales were true. And the thing crawling up through the ground is real, manifest, and wholly devoted to feeding and slaughter...
Umros and Tainesh:
Magic is a curious thing, it can be frail and light and full of good intent. But so too can it be foul and dark, bastardized for the machinations of those who would wreck disaster on the world. Still more there is the accidental, the mistakes, unforeseen consequences of experimentation. These happenings manifest in too many ways to be counted, but one in particular comes to mind now. Sometimes, when magic goes awry, it melds with and changes natural creatures, forming them into something twisted and new.
More often than not, the change dies with the thing it affects, leaving no lasting mark on the world at large. But far more frightening are those cases where the alterations breed true, and a new manner of creature is born. Such is the case for the Golgoroths. Massive mockeries of nature already, giant spiders are no trivial matter, but a Golgoroth is a thing set apart. The hungry, preying mind of an apex predator turned and tuned by arcane leavings of long-forgotten spells, they are creatures born of earth and magic bringing dread wherever their feet land. And death to whatever they touch.
Unfortunately, no Golgoroth is the same as another, so it is impossible to be certain how it's magical abilities manifest. But you do know that the creature rapidly rising through the floor will not be a being of mere chitin and gore...
As Cath makes his stance and Umros spell starts it's course, Langblade rushes up to the other fighters side, sword held at the ready. Her usual mocking expression replaced by one of somber concern, though she does give the half-elf a reassuring nod as she braces for what is to come.
And come it does, up through the floor, rocks and stones falling from it's back. A massive creature of armor and sinew, it towers above everyone in the room. Eight legs each easily ten-feet long support a hideous carapace of black and red. Eight eyes stare blankly into the darkened cavern as wisps of ethereal light play about the creatures body. Strange half-images of smoke and magical intent.
no:
1d20 + 1 ⇒ (9) + 1 = 10
Quick as a whip, the beast rotates it's unholy form to stare at the crate with the sound of it's mate.
The sight of the thing moving is sickening to behold, it's limbs a cruel mockery of what a living thing should look like as it scuttles across the room. Reaching the crate it looks behind it, only to find that there is nothing making the noises it knows all to well. Casting about, it takes but a moment for the monstrous spider to see the body of one of it's suitors, slain on the floor not far from the deceitful box.
It spots the torch, still burning on the ground, and it spots the webs still burning on the ceiling above, and it spots you as you bravely face the unknown with your comrades. It spots you.
The sound that issues forth from it's mouth is unlike any heard in the realms of man or elf. It is primal, pained, filled with hatred that doesn't know the meaning of the word. It passes like a plague through the room, like a physical force wearing a mask of grotesque clacking and a wheezing hiss.
I'm gonna need Will saves from everybody, DC13 or become Shaken for 3d6 ⇒ (5, 1, 3) = 9 rounds.
No sooner than Sparks issues her warning, the ground beneath your feet begins to grumble and groan with the shifting of earth and rock. Everyone feels it as the webbing hanging from the ceiling begins to jerk and sway with the, now ubiquitous, growl of tumbling stones.
Near the center of the cavern floor, those who look see the ancient cobblestone flooring begin to shift and give way as the dirt beneath looses it's cohesion. The stones part way and a jet of loose earth and scree fires off into some corner of the room. It's hard to see fully in the dim lighting of the underground hall, but whatever just started climbing into the room is shiny, and black. And long.
Everybody but Sparks has got either a standard action, or move action before the thing is here. If you want to roll your knowledges, go ahead this is a fine time for that.
The feeling coming up through your feet is definitely reminiscent of an earthquake or cave in, but it's localized in such a way as to not suggest a natural occurrence. It feels like something is causing the ground to shake. Something approaching the small group from under the stone floor. As you think, the sensation becomes stronger, whatever it is, it'll likely be here soon!
You think you've got about 1 round before it arrives.
Tainesh, if you roll perception and beat the high DC, go ahead and read Sparks spoiler.
Though off target, Umros's lob strikes the ceiling a couple feet away from the beast. The vial shatters and as the reagents mix with the damp air, the volitile compound ignights brilliantly! The entire patch of webbing soaked in grease from the wizards machinations burst into a flash of quick flame, singeing the spiders carapace.
At the same time yet another arrow comes piercing through the dark, opening a nasty wound in the beasts side. The combined assults cause the creature to fall from it's increasingly precarious perch.
no:
1d6 ⇒ 4
It's back, weakened from the fire, stoves in on the wretched beast and it lies still and unmoving on the floor.
For the first time since entering, the cavern is quiet. Save for the flickering flames of the grease fire rapidly dissapating on the ceiling. Any webs that were in contact with that area are burning away in an admittedly beautiful laticework of firey ribbons.
Perception DC15:
As the room quiets you think you might feel a rumbling in your feet?
Perception DC21:
As the room quiets you feel a rumbling under your feet. Something big, moments away!
As the gnomish tune fills the chamber his companions feel the song in their bones, seemingly helping to guide their aim as well as hold aloft their spirits.
With practiced ease Sparks sends an arrow straight into the open maw of the gruesome beast rushing towards her. The missle soars with preternatural speed, its sharpened tip cleanly slicing through the creature and exiting out the back of its abdomen. It collapses in a heap, unmoving.
Almost simultaneously Cath, limbs finally unencumbered, swings his heavy blade in an upward arch, cleanly slicing two legs off of the retreating spider, it falls to the floor of the cavern, a mess of chitin and unknown innards.
The thrill of battle and the uplifting tune of Umros's's song egg the half-elf warrior to greater feats of might as he twirls, spotting the last spider scuttling behind a stack of rotted out crates of indeterminate origin.
With a burst of strength the fighter rushes towards the stack of crates, apparently disregarding its apparent stolid sollidness.
1d100 ⇒ 70
With a furious crash, the armored warrior bursts through the stack sending rotted wood and other detrius flying through that corner of the massive room. He swings his sword blidly as dust and splinters shoot up into his face.
His bastard sword whisps through empty space and the force of it nearly spins him fully around. The spider, for it's part, crouched behind the stack of boxes now lying decimated on the ground, freezes in place. Cath thinks he hears the tinniest of squeaks from the ugly thing, rooted in place, before the unholy creature topples over, breathing no more.
All the visible spiders lie dead on the floor, but before anyone has time to catch a breath, you all hear the disturbing, yet now familliar sound of webbing "thwipping" through the now quiet room!
1d20 + 5 ⇒ (5) + 5 = 10
A strand of the sticky substance lands a couple feet away from where Umros stands singing his song!
Okay! Y'all are back up! Tainesh, don't forget to roll uour concentration check at the start of your turn here. :D
Seeing double swords before it and already being so wounded, the spider nearest Cath starts to retreat, backing up as quickly as it's injured limbs allow. The myriad eyes of the beast track Langblade as she tears the silk from Caths leg. As she waves her hand to rid herself of the webbing, the spider sends another streak of the sticky stuff right at her!
no:
1d20 + 5 ⇒ (10) + 5 = 15
But the raven haired woman sees it coming and bats the webbing away with her sword.
Meanwhile on the other side of the battle, Spark's arrows sail through the darkened chamber and pierce the side of the creature climbing down from the walls. It chatters and clacks it's mandibles in pain before quickly scuttling off behind some ancient looking crates. It dissapears from view in the shadows as Umros arrow flies high.
The other of the spider reinforcements makes a beeline across the floor towards the Elven archer, coming up on her side quickly! It's a mere foot away when she releases her second arrow!
The foul abomination scuttles forward, gore and ichor oozing from where the arrows pierced it's carapace. It moves it's mandibles together in a loud, if unsettlingly strange, clacking pattern before it lunges at Cath!
Don't read this:
1d20 + 2 ⇒ (6) + 2 = 8
But the pincers bounce off the fighters armor leaving little more than a scratch on the hard metal surface.
Though the first arrow flies smoothly from her bow, it's turned away at the last minute by the creatures armored hide. The second, however, nearly cuts one of the beasts legs out from under it! The limb hangs limp from where the arrow struck, hard.
With honed precision Sparks arrows fly true, the first striking the furthest creature causing it to recoil in pain and fury. The second hits like a bag of builders bricks not only opening an angry wound in the nearer spider, but actually causing it to lose it's grip on the web-covered stalactites of the rooms ceiling. It falls to the ground with a disturbingly wet slap.
Don't look:
1d6 ⇒ 2
The beast lands with it's legs splayed out around it, a small pool of ichor forming under it's abdomen. But anyone looking at it can see it's still got fight left in it as it rises to it's feet and snaps it's dirty mandibles at Langblade!
Nu-uh:
1d20 + 2 ⇒ (16) + 2 = 18 1d6 ⇒ 2 + BAD WOL- STUFF
Meanwhile both Ringor and Whippoorwill strain against the silk binding the fighters legs together. They tear away chunks of the foul fluid but it seems like it's almost mending itself as quickly as they work!
Cath is still entangled. Also, while good roleplay up there, he's not actually anchored to the ground. More like his shoelaces have been tied together. :D
The sound of arcane forces filling the massive room cuts through the din of combat noises as the young wizard makes her mastery known. The shimmering coating of grease at first seems to have little affect, but each time the wounded creature adjusts it's position it slips a little bit until finally it too loses it's grip on the ceiling. Falling, it lands on it's back, but is quick to scurry around to have it's legs underneath it! Seeing it's first target still ensnared it quickly takes aim at a second prospective meal!
Nope:
1d6 ⇒ 2 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (17) + 5 = 22
The sickening white silk sails the distance to splatter it's clinging tendrils all over Tainesh! Tainesh is now ALSO entangled! :D
The grotesque vermin scuttle across the web-coated ceiling. One of them approached the fighter Cath and squirts sticky fluid at him, attempting to ensnare him from the ceiling!
1d20 + 5 ⇒ (17) + 5 = 22
The half-elf combatant is entangled! Strength DC12 to break free.
The other scurried as quickly as it can, ending up above Langblade as she holds her sword at the ready.
Umros, Tainesh, and Langblade can see the one in V4. Cath and Sparks see both spiders.
A dampened skittering sound calls from the web-covered ceiling. One of the bestial behemoths starts moving towards the group, but the other seems headed directly for Langblade where she stands ahead of the others!
Sparks:
Giant spiders are a relatively common hazard in some of the darker places of the world. The hunter, though she's never encountered them herself, has heard many a tale of explorers coming upon a web or nest of the creatures in caves or dark forests. Exceptionally perceptive, these massive arachnids are natural born hunters, though their style can vary widely from ambush tactics to trap-setting. How ever they're encountered though, they're always hungry for prey!
Behind the central statue the tunnel continues, once more descending. The cold, damp air seems to cling to your clothes and you notice the air forming wisps of cloud in front of your mouth with every breath. On occasion paths seem to split off to the right or left of the central tunnel. But these, when explored, only prove to be a meter or two in length. Whether cut off by loose rock, collapsed wooden supports, or simply just ending in a way that makes little sense to rational minds, none that you find lead to anything of consequence.
The further you go the more apparent it becomes that the tunnel is gently curving to the left. The angle increases over time until you can no longer see even five meters ahead due to the curve cutting off sightlines.
Those who got decent Dungeoneering checks earlier in the game:
Heh.
You’re pretty certain that by this point the underground tunnel is pointing back towards the South-West. Or in other words, towards Sharlstown…
Finally, after what seems like hours, the tunnel seems to straighten out. Both from it’s downward plunge and the curve to the left. Another half hour of this plumb-line straight tunnel and it opens up into a large cavernous space. Larger than the mural room the group passed through earlier in the day. It is circular in shape, with a cathedral-esque domed ceiling, and there is little and less light in the room. The party’s own sources of illumination do little to brighten the dreary place up as they reach thin tendrils of light out into the inky blackness.
Though the ruin, for that is certainly what it appears to be, isn’t entirely without charms. In fact there seem to be large sweeping white drapes hung all over the place! Drapes, made out of sheer, clingy silk…
Cath & Sparks:
You're pretty sure you know who decorated the place, the two giant spiders lurking near the ceiling! Each nearly the size of a horse!
Umros:
You're pretty sure you know who decorated the place, a giant spider lurking near the ceiling! It's nearly the size of a horse!
Tainesh:
You're not sure who decorated the place, but it's a little macabre for your tastes!
The arrow sails down the tunnel, a sphere of light travels with it. You gauge that the missile makes about one hundred meters before glancing off the right hand wall and clattering to the floor. The arrow is out of sight, though the glow from it's spell still shines merrily.
As the group mills about the intricately-carved hall they begin to take in more and more detail regarding their new surroundings.
Tainesh:
The wizard has read many and more books concerning magic and arcane esoterica. But try as she might she cannot bring to mind why the auras exuded from the flowing script seem so familiar. She's just about to give up when something catches at the back of her mind. These sculptures, the ones that seem somehow to be living, when viewed from a certain angle almost look like a sketch she saw on the flyleaf of a worn copy of Edderens Guide to the Natural World. If she remembers correctly, the drawing wasn't actually a part of the book, but rather something a previous owner had drawn of their own volition.
In fact the only reason Tainesh remembered the drawing at all was the fact that it was surrounded by the inane ramblings of a madman. Of the several paragraphs of text jotted next to the sketch, the one thing that seemed to make any sense was the fact that the drawing was supposed to be of something the writer called an "aberration." It wasn't quite the same as the statues in the chamber with them, but the two bear a notable similarity in general composition and structure.
Sparks:
The ranger is just about to step back into the puzzle chamber when something catches her sharp eyes, something they all missed as they entered this foreboding hall. Getting closer, the elven archer can see why no one had before noticed it, the object had apparently fallen into the right-hand pool, just beyond the stone door that now lies nestled inside the floor.
When she gets close enough, she is momentarily repulsed by the sight of a skeleton almost fully submerged in the pool. Only the barest of rags still cling to it's barren form, it's bones shining white with the reflected light from the party. Closer examination of where the body must have been resting shows an oddity nowhere replicated in the hall. There are scratch marks on the floor and wall near where the skeleton now rests. Unlike the fine workmanship of the carven script flowing through the hall, these scratches are crude and inconsistent. They seem like they might have been clawed out of the stone by bare fingertip.
Furthermore, it is just one symbol; A five-pointed star, irritatingly asymmetrical in design, with a small series of lines inside...
Umros:
Ever cheerful, the little gnome trundles up to the end of the statues cavern, to where Langblade stands torch still upraised. She stands in silence for a moment while the wanderer takes a gander at what lay beyond, another tunnel, and another descent. He can see for a short distance down, but all there that is there is more pathway through the stone.
The water gathered into your vial seems to hold it's extra properties for only a few seconds before reverting to the naturally occurring liquid we all know and love. It has all the alchemical uses typically associated with water.
Umros has heard of dreaded creatures in the wide world that are known to cause petrification in those foolish enough to seek to oppose them. Cockatrice and Gorgons both are capable of the fantastic act, but based on what the wanderer has heard over the years these, things, don't seem to be suffering from that particular malady.
The wizened wanderer takes in the hall with eyes accustomed to searching out that which is hidden in new environments. Silver eyes cast about for magical influences and are nearly overwhelmed by the prevalence of magical aura in the room. Though he can see that the script, water, and even the "barrels" themselves are infused with magic. It is of a type that the gnome has never encountered before. The spells are not recognizable as any he has studied, but there are similarities. No matter where it comes from magic is, after all, magic.
Based on the way the light plays over the still waters, Umros would guess that they have some sort of "light-enhancing" aspect to whatever spell infuses them. As for the script running the length of the halls, it would take ages for their full meaning to be deciphered. But one thing Umros notices is that some of the feel of the power is like that of various warding spells he's dealt with in the past. Though this is unlike any spell of warding the Gnome knows.
The last distinct aura comes from the "barrels." It is no one particular magic energy, in fact each sculpture seemingly has it's own aura to it. No, what sets these apart is that the magic exuding from them seems most similar to that of auras given off by living creatures. But that couldn't be right, could it?
Looking in the tunnel is like looking in some long forgotten hall of a castle that has never known a lord. Like the previous chamber this tunnel was definitely produced by intelligent hands, though the craftsmanship of its facades and muraling far outstrips that of the puzzle chamber. Though just as the images in this place are more finely crafted, so too are they more indecipherable in meaning and nature.
The tunnel itself is roughly thirty meters long, both ten meters tall and ten meters wide. A raised walkway, about three meters wide, occupies the center of the hallway. It is on this walkway the group finds themselves now. To the left and right are two long pools of dark water that run the length of the hall, about a meter deep they are empty save for ten strange sculptures, five in each pool. Cylindrical in form they bear no small resemblance to the odd-barrel shaped images from the mural in the puzzle chamber. Each barrel is topped with a star-shaped flower, closed up in a pointed bud. In a ring around the barrels midsection are five roots that run down it’s length and into the water. The sculptures stand about two meters tall and are apparently made of a darker stone than the rest of the tunnel around them.
The ornate carvings cover the floors, walls, and ceiling of the chamber in a frighteningly beautiful mosaic of esoteric and unknown symbols and shapes. To the uninitiated it looks like a long line of flowing magical script. To those who have studied the arcane arts, it looks pretty much the same. Whatever the images may mean, it’s easy to see that any real translation will take years, or even decades, of study by top scholars and archaeologists.
There are no recognizable light sources in the tunnel, though the water seems to reflect the group’s own lights in an odd manner. At the end of the walkway is an eleventh statue, stood in the center of the path. Identical to the others, it nonetheless seems to occupy a space all it’s own separate and away from the other ten barrels carvings.
Don't forget your +1/2 class level bonus to tracking!
The rangers sharp eyes scan the area around the door and just inside. By her reckoning this tunnel hasn't been used in an age. At the least no one has used it since before she was born...
If anybody else enters the tunnel or looks inside, read Sparks spoiler.
Technically the Snowflake Icon shared the same plate as the Grease Icon, not the Fire. But lets assume you shot at the correct one.
Magic incantations and arrows fly through the air in quick succession. The plate with the image of snowfall shows it's face and almost seems to glow as the cantrip seeks out the hollow forms of the pillars insides. With one final clunk the ancient construction starts to work once more!
The recessed stone-door begins to rumble as the now familiar sound of rock scraping against rock fills the chamber once more. Earthen floor shaking beneath their feet the group sees the heretofore hidden portal open as the heavy stone plug lowers slowly into the ground. Flickering torchlight reaches a short distance into the darkened depths and from where you stand it appears that the tunnel continues, though any details of the passage remain obscured without closer examination.
The dust settles and the torches continue to burn, aside from the newly opened tunnel, the chamber seems content to continue as it has for untold eons.
Maaaaan, I was really hoping y'all would trigger the trap aspect of the puzzle! *puts away TPK score chart*
"AGAIN!" The command came quick and stern, much like the man who issued it. The girl quickly wiped a streak of sweat from her forehead and gripped the worn leather haft of her longsword preparing to run the drill once more. Her eyes tracked the young boy opposite, his own blunted blade glinted in the afternoon sun as his chest worked like a smiths bellows.
Though Tam was one year her junior, he had the strength of their father and he knew it. Indeed it was apparent enough in the way his practice sword held steady even after these hours of drills. Amber's mind worked quickly, he'll come in fast and heavy her younger brother shifted his weight forward, overhand. A cocky smile started to take her face, but she saw her father studying her from the edge of the sparring circle. Quickly smothering it, the girl fought to emulate his expressionless visage as he watched the bout.
With no more warning Tam launched his attack, fast, heavy, and overhanded, yelling his child's war-cry the whole way. Amber reciprocated with a sprint forward, bringing her own blade parallel to the ground. Ducking under her brothers clumsy vertical swing she slashed at his exposed stomach. Everyone heard the air rush out of his lungs and with it Amber knew he'd be down for the count. Still, she couldn't resist a quick little spin, whacking her little brother on his leather-padded ass with the flat of her blade as he fell to the ground.
"STOP." Lord Aaron Xavier Langblade commanded his two children in the practice circle. Amber instantly regretted the extra blow as she straightened up and held her sword at rest. It took Tam a moment to catch his breath and stand up straight again, shooting his older sister a dirty look in the process. Langblade waited until both of the children stood at rest before he turned to his third child and asked, "What did they do wrong?" His face was expressionless as it always was when he was training new fighters. But as ever the gaze behind his eyes belied the storm of thoughts foaming in his generals mind.
Amber almost laughed as she saw her second brother, Eddric, jump to attention, hefting his own heavy blade off of the ground where it had been resting. He quickly looked at his older siblings, first Amber, then Tam, but neither would offer to help explain what their father was asking about. At least not in-front of the old man himself. Eddric floundered for a moment before offering an answer.
"Well, Ser, Tom, he- uh, he stuck his foot forward again. Before he charged at Am. Like he always does." He looked up at his father expectantly before adding a quick "Ser."
The seasoned warrior held his younger sons gaze. "And?" He prompted.
Emboldened by his fathers neutral tone Ed continued. "And Am! She hit him again! After he was beaten!" His enthusiasm at pointing out the perceived faults of others was summarily dismissed by his father's one word reply.
"Wrong." Eddrics face fell but quickly brightened again as Lord Langblade continued. "You're correct that Tam, once again, broadcast his intent with his body language." The elder swords man turned to his second born, "Something that must be rectified soon." Amber and Eddric both tittered quietly at Tams discomfiture. "But your sister wasn't wrong in striking twice." The father turned to look at his three children each in the eye. "Out there," He pointed a gauntletted hand at the rolling hills outside the keeps walls, "people will not hesitate to capitalize on your weakness. If they see an opening, they will take it. And you will suffer the consequences."
Turning to Eddric he continued. "No, where Amber failed" his eyes flicked up to the young swords-girl. "Was in waiting for Tam to attack." Lord Aaron straightened up a bit before continuing. "Nine out of ten fights are won by the first person to strike. And outside these walls, losing a fight means dying." A dark look takes his eyes as the Lord gazes out over his holdings. But it quickly fades as the father looks back to his children. Taking a step back the drill master barked at his trainees once more, "AGAIN!"
"But Dad!" Amber started, "-Ser! We've run this a dozen times. And I've beat him every single time!"
"That's not true!" Tam interjected quickly, "I won the third one!"
Amber rolled her eyes and continued addressing their father. "When are you going to give me a real challenge? I can beat Tam-Tam any day of the week!" Her younger brother and sparring partner stuck out his tongue at her and again she rolled her eyes.
General Langblade seemed to consider this a moment before quietly saying "Fine. Eddric, assist your brother." Amber looked just as surprised as her youngest brother, she never thought he'd actually call her bluff. As quickly as he could, Eddric hefted his blunt practice sword and joined Tam, approximating his brothers ready position as much as his significantly weaker frame allowed.
Amber was swift to adopt her own en guard stance as she saw that her father wasn't joking. After a moment she started to grin again, this would actually require some effort from her. Eddric is quicker, she thought to herself but he's not as strong as Tam. She watched her brothers under the beating of the hot sun. Still, he's better at hiding his tells. Better to take him down first, and quickly.
This time the first born child of Lord Aaron Xavier Langblade did not wait for her brother to strike. Launching herself forward she rushed at her youngest brother, smashing her shoulder into his chest sending him flying. Tam for all his predictability was still a strong kid, strong and fast. He swung his blade at his sister as she bowled over their little brother. It was all Amber could do to intersperse her blade between his weapon and her stomach. But the fighter in training was able to do it, and push him away before swinging her own sword at his upper shoulder.
It was an easy block, one that Tam was able to pull off with little difficulty. But the second, true, strike caught him unawares as Amber swung hard for his right leg. The blow landed with a muffled, but still painful sounding, 'paff.' Tam groaned a little under the strike, but kept his feet.
Reveling for a moment in the solid hit Amber didn't notice Eddric rising to his feet from where he lay on the ground behind her. The younger brother swung as hard as his spindly arms would let him at the back of his sisters knee. The blunt weapon connected and Amber fell forward with a yelp. Seeing his opportunity for a little payback, Tam rushed forward and knee'd his sister in the gut as she fell forward.
Eddric brought his own sword up in a winning blow, but the young girl saw it coming from her place on the ground and quickly rolled along the dirt and grass to dodge the falling blade. Tam tried to rush over to keep her on the ground, but at the same time Amber got a leg under her and leveraged herself to back to her feet. Punching with all her strength at Tams padded stomach as he closed the distance between them.
The 'oof' he made was a sweet sound to her ears as she brought her blade up to ward off another strike from Ed.
"Arggh!" She exclaimed as a piercing pain shot through her foot. Falling to the ground she saw Tams sword where it had struck at her un-armored boot. She saw that, and the surprise on Tam's face, as if he didn't truly expect the blow to hurt her. Her own sword lying forgotten on the ground she clutched madly at her aching foot as she heard her father bark out:
"STOP." In two long strides the man was at her side down on a knee. Quickly and expertly he removed her boot to examine the damage to her foot. The limb was already starting to swell and turn a deep purple where the blow had landed. The young fighter bit her tongue to not cry out again as her father handled her injury. After a moments probing he said quietly "It's broken, but it will heal." He rose to his feet, hefting his daughter up in his arms in one smooth motion. "We're done for today." He looked at his three children before his eyes rested on Amber's. "You did well. I'm proud of you. All of you."
His long legs eating the distance to the keep, Amber held on to her fathers neck, holding back tears of pain and yet, smiling.
Though the little traveler cannot think of any sort of dark or obscene sludges, after a few moments consideration he comes to the realization that the symbol might be a representation of grease. Like the kind he knows can be conjured with the right magical means.
The stone outline of a door has a little give to it when the hunter pushes against it, as if the construction wants to move. But something still blocks the door from opening.
Once more the far right plate swivels on its axis locking in place with the musical notation clear to see. As the gnomic wanderer begins to whistle, the sharp-eared think they can detect a soft echo of his first note. It fills the room with its not-quite-there presence before being crushed beneath the loud scrapping sound of stone on stone, emanating from the far wall and newly-revealed door. A second later and the harsh sound is gone. Though the stone slab appears to not have moved at all.
Caths arrow flies straight and true, hitting dead-center of the three circles on the plate, striking the small retaining-bolt and ricocheting away! It flies in a haphazard pattern back and forth across the hall, seemingly never running out of energy as it strikes each consecutive hard-surface. The group has to dodge and weave lest they feel the wrath of the errant missile. With one last "ptang!" the projectile soars back at the pillar, this time headed straight for the opening beneath the swiveling plate.
It strikes something solid and resistant inside the recessed hollow before falling to the floor of the room. A very noticeable "clunk" issues forth from the darkened hole.
Perception DC 10:
Across the room, on the far wall behind the center pillar, a thin line reveals itself in the seemingly stark wall. As the dust falls loose you're able to discern the shape of a doorway where once there was merely a blank stone face.
As the proverbial, and literal, dust settles, Tainesh lines up her shots. All three arrows fly true towards their marks, each striking the swivel-plates in succession. First the far right plate spins back to the image of fire. Second the center plate swings round to show the greasy, goopy liquid. And quick on it's heels the final arrow heads towards the concentric-circle target. It's a solid hit and the arrow sticks in the wood, however the plate doesn't budge and stays firmly displaying the arrow target face.
