"If only the air wasn't so still and stagnant," the old man laments aloud to no one in particular. "A nice fresh breeze would probably clear a path..."
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The old man reloads his musket, and steps close to the remains of the creature, oozing and spreading in its death. He squats and takes a more detailed look, and then turns to the newcomer. "Glad to have you with us, Professor," the old man says, tipping the brim of his weathered hat. "The name's Ibid." "If you stick with us, you should be safe," he says, pausing for the moment. "For a room or two, at least."
The old man quickly racks in a few more cartridges, his movements followed closely by the echoing blast of his musket firing three times more.
The old man begins to step back as the creature, or puddle, begins to wade from the container, even taking a moment to realize his trusty, old musket was already in hand. His vision narrows across the sight of the weapon and the old man squeezes the trigger three times in quick succession. "Stay back from it, if you can!" he calls over the thunderous roar of his firearm.
I'm still here. Sorry it took me a bit to respond. I'm cool with continuing, if that's what everyone else wants to do. Whatever works best for the group. I play in a few other PbP games, so I'll be on the boards if we want to start this game back up. If we decide to keep playing, let me know if you need any help putting out some feelers for a new wizard, Balaxxius and I might be able to help find someone.
It was great playing with you Quadravos! Later, dude!
"For the time being," the gunslinger begins, looking at the tendrils of fog slithering across the steps. "It's best not to let it touch you..."
"I can't help feeling we're standing on the tip of the iceberg, and the true dangers lay in wait further below," the old man says, stepping to follow the others, waiting for Balaxxius to signal them forward. "... as if we may only have now started to descend into the true, labyrinthine vastness of this place."
"I concur, Sir Alaraic," states the old gunslinger in a gravely voice, though he sounds surprised with himself that he has something to add. "I don't reckon we finished investigating all of the spheres before we moved on and crawled through that cramped little corridor." "Who's for heading back? Unless someone can think of something else we missed..." The old man still holds the readied musket wearily, while watching in the direction of the tilting hallway.
The old man looks onward in shock, raising his musket and leveling the barrel down the hallway beyond the knight. "Listen to Elan, you fool!" he shouts, watching the space showing beyond the weapon's hard-sights for signs of danger which might befall Sir Alaric. "We need to proceed cautiously!"
The master theif's thudding knock seems to echo off the walls of the still and silent chamber. Tightening his grip on the musket as his eye remains trained down the length of the barrel, he sees Balaxxius step away from the door in his periphery. "That-a-boy..." the old gunslinger says, slowly closing one eye while watching the door for signs of movement. "Best be careful." "Plus if you die, we may never find our way back out..."
After the master thief has relayed the noises heard on the other side of the door, the old gunslinger stands motionless for a moment, lost in thought. Before them stands a door they can not open, with someone talking on the other side. Raising his musket and leveling the barrel at the doorway, the old man speaks with a crooked smile. "I believe its customary to knock when you want those on the other side to do the opening..."
"Aye," the old gunslinger nods in agreement to Elan. "Makes sense." Ibid unslings the musket-strap from his shoulder and eyes the door suspiciously. Looking back to Elan, the old man motions to the musket. "Just in case it's not magic and there actually is something on the other side doing the talking..." The old man stands watching the master thief look around the door, but keeps his sense alert in case the door is opened suddenly and something dangerous spills through.
"Ugh," the old gunslinger sighs a little under his breath at the rogue's joke. "My friend, perhaps you should stick to spotting and disarming traps... I don't want that joke to be the last thing I hear in life..." Maybe it's simply a language-barrier-type-deal, and he's actually quite funny? the old man questions to himself, lifting his musket and preparing to cover the others.
"Agreed, sir knight," the old gunslinger says taking one last look around, but not finding anything in addition to what they have already seen. "Our trapfinder needs to rest, else he'll be no use to us withered and wasting away." "And don't be too hard on hard on yourself, Elan," Ibid says, turning to the cleric. "This place is designed to kill all that enter, you've done well to heal us. And if you can help our trapfinder to recuperate, even if it takes a week, that is no small miracle."
The old gunslinger stands close by to the others, his musket drawn and his eyes narrowed as he scans the room for signs of danger. "Take your time and make sure you are all in good shape before we continue. There is no sense hurrying to our deaths," Ibid says, looking back over his shoulder at the others. "I know these old bones could use brief rest after crawling through that cramped tunnel."
The old gunslinger rolls over in the tunnel, his silk rope tied around his waist as if preparing for a world shattering calamity. He coughs a few times, tasting the stale, stagnant dust upon on the air, and then proceeds to slap the fresh coating of particles from his legs in long, exaggerated motions. "Dust?!" Ibid says incredulously. "I'm getting too jumpy in this place..."
The old man as well moves quickly for the tunnel and prepares to crawl out. As the gunslinger moves, he draws the wound coil of silk rope and ties it around his waist. At the entrance of the tunnel, he drops the free end of the rope on the floor and prepares to help pull the others into the crawl-space if they are too sickened from the cloud to do it themselves. "If you're too weak to crawl to safety, tie the rope around yourself so we can pull you free!" calls the old gunslinger.
Hope everything is OK for you and your family. As others have said, our thoughts and prayers are with you, and take as much time as you need. All this make-believe (D&D/Pathfinder) is of zero importance when compared to real life.
The old gunslinger stands beside the tunnel, holding his weathered musket and repeatedly scanning their surroundings. "After you," Ibid says with a smile. "I suppose I should follow as rear guard, in case something slimy squeezes in the tunnel after us." "Plus I won't be much help trapped in the middle without a clear line of sight to the front or back our column."
"I reckon so," the old gunslinger laughs, watching a short length of rope unspool and seemingly slither of its own accord into the gloom. "What type of creatures prefer the taste of drow?" Ibid asks rhetorically, being sure to cast his voice down the darkened tunnel in the direction which Balaxxius disappeared. "With a tasty lure on the end of our line, we could probably catch something big and nasty..." "But seriously, Balaxxius, be careful..." he adds quietly, almost to himself.
The old gunslinger steps up and beings to examine the area found by Quadravos. "Very... strange... indeed..." Ibid's voice trails off.
"As I focus on the sphere, it seems to ripple and melt away... It's just an illusion. Below the surface is a... painted wooden disc... with a slim handle jutting from it... just enough to alter the profile of this door," the old man speaks, almost trance like.
As the drow begins to pull the levers, the old gunslinger speaks, "I wish I was of more help, trap finder. You've discerned more about how these various doors open in what seems like seconds, than I did the entire time we bumbled our way through each of these various rooms." "I trust your opinion on this matter," Ibid adds with a laugh. "Just don't get the combination wrong and get yourself killed... because we'll never find another trap finder on such sort notice. We were lucky enough to find you." Ibid tightens his grip on the musket as the drow actuates the door levers.
The old gunslinger holds his musket uneasily, watching the drow deftly searching for and disabling the various traps which have crossed their path. "Just let me know when I can be of use, Balaxxius..." Ibid says, watching with great expectancy. Briefly pausing to look at the others, raising his eyebrow in an exaggerated motion, signaling a begrudging nod of respect for the drow.
"Aye," says the old gunslinger, removing his weatherworn hat and nodding slightly. After pushing the knotted tangles of hair from his face, and covering them once again with his hat, the old man continues. "Well done with the trap, you will be of great use to us." "And us to you," Ibid finishes, raising his musket as an indication of the group's protection.
I just realized as well, we're really not that far inside the tomb... If you literally shouted, "hello?" down the open tunnel entrance we excavated... We could probably hear you easily. We're like 50 feet inside the tomb and down one turn of the hall! :)
Great! Congrats PapaSteve08/Balaxxius! Now get in here, disable this trap and earn your keep:)
Ibid watches expectantly to see the result of Elan's attempt, also appreciating the Samsaran's preparation.
I directed you here and then realized that it would be best to have this conversation a bit more discreetly, so I'm PMing you all with the situation on finding a replacement Hey all, I wanted to post a link for everyone in regards to trying to find a replacement for Azgar. This link is to the profile for a trap finding toon, made by PapaSteve08. He is interested in joining the group. Originally he had submitted a cleric to the recruitment thread, but now that we are in need of a trap finder, PapaSteve08 has created a new toon, I.e. a trap finder :) This is just for your information, to give you all a chance to see his toon, in case we want him to join the part. No need to respond to this post, or vote in the discussion thread or anything, like the Norv mentioned in his post above. My post and the link is just a "for your information only" type of thing :)
The old gunslinger makes sure he is positioned outside of the room, knowing he cannot disarm the trap, calling to the knight from his place of protection. "I think you'd best get out of there, Sir Alaric," Ibid's voice carries into the room, while the old man's gaze is fixed up on the glowing light. Pulling his attention away, Ibid looks over the room, for a door or way to deactivate the trap.
@ Quadravos: I agree, this will make things very difficult for us not to be killed by the some unknown, upcoming traps. I'm sorry to see Azgar go, and I assume that only leaves one option for us... To get another (probably lesser) Azgar :)
I'm sorry to see you go, Azgar! It's been a lot of fun delving the tomb of horrors with your axe wielding clown!
"Ouch," the old gunslinger stammers, sitting up and rubbing his lower-back with one hand. After a moment spent wincing from the pain, Ibid continues, "I think I'll let you do the honors from now on, Sir Alaric." The old man tries to laugh at his joke but coughs instead, grabbing his chest and recoiling from the pain once more.
The old gunslinger move to the door, holding his musket in his off-hand. After taking one last look at the door, hoping to see if it is trapped, Ibid opens the door and prepares to fight for his life.
Ibid slings the musket over his shoulder and begins to search a separate room from Quadravos φ, starting at the first of the four smaller rooms which the party discovered. "I'll take this one," the old man calls out, beginning to comb the walls for any signs of a well hidden door.
"Be careful, my friend," the old gunslinger says to the knight. "I'll do my best to cover you, should anything unnatural deem it the right time to attack."
Watching Sir Alaric walk several paces into the second door, the old gunslinger wipes a sweat-soaked tangle of hair from his brow with the sleeve of his jacket. Raising his musket a moment later in preparation to cover the brave knight in case anything should attack. Ibid's keen eyes peer down the length of his musket from beneath the weathered brim of his hat.
"Though I would like to proceed with haste, I'm second checking for traps to be sure," Ibid speaks as he looks over the remaining door. "I'd rather check before we proceed.... just so we know." "Would you mind taking a look, Azgar?"
Yeah, no problem here. Thanks for the heads up! Good luck with all your plans!
The old gunslinger lowers his musket, slowly reloading his spent alchemical cartridge, and looks upon the tattered and destroyed corpse. "I fear what we will face later," the old man says, staring into the distance, looking off into nothingness. "If this is the first of Acererak's minions we face." A few moments later, the gunslinger regains his composure and casts detect magic to see if any auras can be found throughout the remaining corridor. Scanning the room in as much detail as he can see.
Seeing the monstrosity is on the verge of destruction, Ibid raises his musket once more to press the attack. Even if one shot were to be enough to bring the fell monster down with certainty, the gunslinger squeezes the trigger once and watches to be sure the monster falls and does not get up. All the while the old gunslinger is ready to fire twice more if some form of dark and treacherous trickery keeps the beast on its feet.
Roused from the stunned horror of watching his friends attacked by the monstrous beast. Ibid blinks, and realizes his musket is already drawn and ready to fire.
Again, I'm sorry for the delay. I'll be posting my action this morning here, very shortly.
Sorry the delay in posting everyone. I'm on a roadtrip through Utah, Nevada and California, and didn't realize how little reception I'd have most of the time, plus always how always being behind the wheel would cut into my PbP time. Sorry to everyone for not keeping up.
"Well, I guess the only thing left to do is open the door," the gunslinger says with a cringe, slipping the musket from his shoulder and aiming at the door before them. "Let's hope it's not oblivion, I won't be able to cover you if that's the case."
The gunslinger retraces his steps down the corridor toward the newly opened passage, and steps beside the wizard. "Looks like I do owe you a new collapsable pole, Quadravos φ," Ibid says apologetically, looking down the corridor opening through broken plaster aperture.
The old gunslinger then casts detect magic down the corridor, hoping to detect anything which may lay before Sir Alaric.
"Elan, if could ask a favor, could you please listen down the last pit trap? Just tell me if you can hear a faint thudding, like someone knocking on the opposite side of a stone wall," the gunslinger asks, beginning to scan the floor of the corridor at his feet. After searching for a few moments near the archway, Ibid picks up a few stones and throws each through the threshold of the archway. The old man is aiming at the back wall of the short, dead-end tunnel he can see beyond the archway. As each stone leaves his grasp, he expects them to disappear into nothingness as they traverse the gaping aperture, but he listens in the direction of the pit-trap hoping to hear the resounding thud of each stone striking the wall at the bottom of the shaft.
Following this crude investigation, the old gunslinger lifts his hat, runs knobby old fingers through his tangled patch of brown hair, and then moves to join the group near the newly discovered doorway.
"Umm, Quadravos φ..." the stunned gunslinger calls out to the wizard. "I think I owe you a collapsable pole." "It's as though anything crossing the threshold of this archway is magicked away. And I'll bet they end up behind that wall at the bottom of the pit-trap." After speaking, the gunslinger pauses for a moment, as a thought occurs to him which causes his face to turn a slight shade of green. "If that's the case, I'd rather not see how many bodies are entombed on the other side of this gateway..." The old man takes a few steps away from the archway.
"Let me know if you need me and my musket down there," Ibid calls out to Azgar and Quadravos φ. Before his companions can answer, Ibid extends the folding pole given to him by Quadravos φ and uses it to prod the stones leading into the dead-end corridor, searching for traps.
The old gunslinger also casts detect magic into the dead-end corridor. "Could this corridor somehow lead behind the wall at the bottom of the pit-trap?" Ibid asks, unsure how to even phrase the question so that is companions will understand him. "Quadravos φ heard noises at the bottom of the pit-trap, and we could there was some sort of magical aura penetrating the stone wall down there. Is that were this passage leads? "I could throw some stones against the back wall of this corridor, if someone wants to lean their head over the pit trap and listen for the muffled thud of the stones hitting at the bottom of the shaft."
Ibid, now up and out of the pit, collects his gear and slings the coiled silk rope over one shoulder. After approaching the group, the gunslinger peers down the newly reveal hallway from behind Elan and Quadravos φ and casts detect magic in to reveal any magical auras which might lay ahead. "Whomever is leading can feel free to tie this around their waist," the old man says, shifting the coiled rope on his shoulder. "We might be able to rig the rope that so if another pit trap is triggered, the unfortunate soul on point does not fall all the way to bottom..." |