Tarn Neekapper's page

Oh man, way to drop a major season ending cliff hanger on us. ;)

[corny TV announcer voice]Will our heroes be able to defeat the emerging god of wormy death? Will Szasa ever give Falko the time of day? Will Tarn once again be unwittingly forced to touch Falko's thigh? Will Daryl learn the secrets of immortality from the stolen library book? Tune in next year to learn the answers and much more. Now we send you over to our zany summertime Gillgans Island marathon. All Gilligan, all the time![/corny TV announcer voice]

Seriously. Sorry to see you go, these are challenging times and I totally understand the need to take a break and recharge. Ping me if you decide to start this back up.

Fright Check: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (13) + 7 = 20

Tarn closes his eyes and calms his mind. This would never do, he couldn't hide behind Daryl forever at not do anything to stop the emerging god of worms. A god who might not take a liking to the fact that Tarn spent a lot of time fishing and using worms for bait. Lots of worms in fact, because he really wasn't that great of a fishergoblin, and the blasted fish kept stealing the worms off his hook. So he needed to do something to keep this god from emerging. He concentrates. Focuses his will to push the fear aside and lock it away in a part of his mind where it could be dealt with later.

With a growing calm, he grabs his carpet and flips it out. With rapier in hand, the goblin then follows Finlogan into the fray. Pushing the carpet as fast as he can, the goblin skims over the slurry on the floor directly for the creature trying to flank the fire druid. With a swift flurry and flourish he lashes out with his magical blade trying to disrupt whatever foul source holds the worms together into a single entity. Feeling the blade do something nasty, the goblin then slides his carpet around and past the rushing wormanoid and heads toward those summoning the god in the rear.

Rapier Attack Yellow: 1d20 + 13 ⇒ (13) + 13 = 26
Damage: 1d8 + 7 + 9d6 ⇒ (8) + 7 + (3, 4, 4, 3, 1, 4, 5, 5, 1) = 45

Move 60' on carpet. Attack Yellow. Bonus Dash to loop past front line and avoid any AOO from swarms. Should end up two squares north and seven west of the first blue enemy on the left. Fancy Footwork negates any AOO from yellow.

Not sure my non-magical crossbow does any damage, but I'll give it a try.

Tarn slips his crossbow into his hand and sends a bolt flying toward the nearest wormy creature.

Crossbow Attack Purple: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (9) + 11 = 20
Damage: 1d6 + 5 + 9d6 ⇒ (2) + 5 + (6, 2, 6, 5, 4, 6, 6, 6, 5) = 53

WIS Save vs. Frightened: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (4) + 7 = 11

Between the pulsing malevolence of the emerging god, numerous worm creatures and the thundering, fiery devastation caused by his own allies magic, Tarn decides to stay right where he is and advance in the wake of the paladin.

Not wishing to be focal point of the oncoming hoard of charging wormanoids, Tarn takes a quick step back and behind Daryl. Drawing his rapier, he waits for the slimy worm creatures to move forward.

"Boy, I really wish we all had resistance to dissolving worm juice or some other way to blunt the danger from these creatures right about now." The goblin says as he leans back and forth on his toes, ready to duck away from the first waves of the nasty worm bile.

Moving two north and two east to put me behind and to the side of Daryl.

WIS Save: 1d20 + 7 + 3 ⇒ (12) + 7 + 3 = 22

The shocking horror of the scene before him causes Tarn's heart to skip a beat...well several beats if truth be told. But before his body freezes up entirely, the goblin feels the steadfast presence of Daryl and his faith standing at his side. Tapping into the paladin's aura of confidence and strength, Tarn stands firm.

Tarn walks along the wall avoiding the worm slurry and the flaring holy symbols. He can't help but puzzle over the rod and the odd feeling that comes over him as he stares at it. It's like sitting on the balcony overlooking the river, holding hands with Khadi as the sunsets across the distant desert hills. The frogs and crickets filling the still warm air with their evening concert.

With thoughts of home, comfort, and the princess he really did love in his mind he reaches out and grabs the rod, ready to pull it from the door.

Not wanting to be caught in the inevitable wave of worms that will burst forth from the doors once the rod is removed, Tarn spider climbs up the side of the walls where he waits with his back resting against the vibrating surface.

"I'm not sure thinking more about facing an ancient god of undeath is going to be very beneficial to our peace of mind." Tarn shouts over the growing noise. "This seems more like a situation where charging in and killing anything that moves as quickly and completely as possible grants the only real possibility of survival. We know there'll be acid. We know there'll be worms...lots of worms. We know there'll be more of those wormanoids who'll make even more worms and acid. And we hope there isn't a really pissed on god of evil who's been locked up for several thousand years....but there probably is."

He points to the rod and smirks. "At the very least, that'll be good for smashing worms, so if no one wants to, I'll be the one to pull it free." He starts walking along the wall toward the rod and doors.

"What the...!? Eeeww! #$^&!" Tarn hollers at Falko snatching his hand away from the barbarian's sweaty thigh. "Loremaster's grace, I'm a married goblin. Surely you'd be more interested in Szasa's opinion of your bulging, sweat covered thighs." He adds frantically rubbing his hand on his threadbare pants to remove any barbarian cooties.

Upon reaching the summit he eyes the bulging, ooze generating, holy symbol flaring, barely held in place by a meager piece of metal, doors with a skeptical, worried eye. "That doesn't look good. Not good at all. I hope we aren't too late. I left my god-killing knives back at home."

Seeing the cells, Tarn immediately backs away, ignoring any voices or other things he may or may not see.

"I'd rather not tangle with more of those foul wraiths. Not when we've got bigger fish to fry." He says gesturing up toward the ever present thumping.

"A very apt summary O destroyer of cities." Tarn says to Szasa after his research is finished. Rubbing his temples, the goblin suddenly looks very tired his skin pale and ears drooping. But soon enough his goblin spirit kicks in, that unknown spark of energy, determination, chaos, instinct for survival, who knows what it really is. But it is what has always kept his people going and allowed them to survive despite being weaker, smaller, and generally less well thought of then most peoples of the world.

Carefully closing the last book, the goblin steps away from the table and looks back toward the southern doorway and its black shroud.

"Indeed my good Falko. It's time we found this Writhing Battery of Kyuss and put a stop to its constant thumping before it is too late."

He then marches toward the door, drawing his rapier. With hand poised to touch the shroud, he looks to make sure all are ready, then touches it and steps through the arch.

"What?! Don't your northern schools teach the basics of library use?" The goblin asks with genuine surprise when Szasa asks him to try and search the stacks for a specific set of tomes. "Tsk...tsk...tsk...I knew things were bad here in the north, but I thought for sure Khadi was wrong in how bad things are. My goodness even a commoner first term underling at any academy is able to perform basic library research." He goes on to mutter, shaking his head in wonder as he begins to systematically walk through the shelves.

"Ahhh...yes." He says comparing a couple of the ancient tomes. "These people used an ancient form of the Falconi system. Not quite the same, but comparable enough." He points to a series of small runic letters and numbers printed on the spine of each book. "See. Subject, author, and publication date. Subjects divided into a variety of subcategories alphabetically." A hand rubs his chin as he stops and thinks for a moment. "Let's see. Necromancy, religion...or maybe philosophy...what was the name? Kyuss, yes. Hmmmmm....symbols and iconography. No. Maybe under ceremonies? Or artifacts of power. Let's see...."

He continues searching to see if anything comes up that fits what the sorceress is looking for.

Investigation: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (15) + 7 = 22
Extra D4 just in case: 1d4 ⇒ 2

I still find it hilarious that the goblin rogue ended up having the highest INT of the group.

Tarn is trained in Investigation. The lowest I can roll is a 17.

Tarn simply walk over to the south wall with its corresponding orcish letter and silky black door. Leaning a shoulder against the hard surface and running his dagger along his fingernails to clear out the usual dirt and grit, he watches as the others scurry about piling books and readying them for the torch.

Nodding at Szasa's suggestion and finding no other way out of this area, Tarn goes back downstairs and scouts the way further down the unexplored corridor.

Perception: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (10) + 7 = 17

Stepping over the pools of acid, Tarn stops mid step and frowns down at the clearly very effective substance. Much better than the usual stuff I get from the alchemists back home. And occasionally quite useful for certain pesky locks or chains. The little goblin thinks to himself.

Pulling out a small syringe, he sucks up several measures of the acid and transfers it into a pair of small empty glass vials he keeps on hand for just such collections.

Dex: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (8) + 5 = 13

2HD during rest: 2d8 + 6 ⇒ (6, 1) + 6 = 13

Once everyone is rested and ready, Tarn will once again scout in the direction of the irritating thumping sound to try and find its source.

Perception: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (19) + 7 = 26

Tarn sheathes his sword as the last worm thing falls to Daryl's radiant burst. Looking around at his comrades he frowns with concern. Despite various healing efforts, Falko, Szasa and Finlogan all still seem close to collapse. And he really doesn't like the way Falko's skin (or what remains of his skin) moves and bulges like something is crawling around just beneath the surface.

Carefully avoiding the various puddles of acid and pools of his companions former flesh, the goblin cautiously searches the fallen creatures for any sign of who or what they might have been or anything else of value or interest.

Investigation: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (2) + 7 = 9 Becomes 17.

Was the effect on healing in place within the other areas prior to this chamber?

His sword useless against the swarms, Tarn thinks for a moment and then suddenly his ears perk up and a wild grin crosses his features. Grabbing his trusty grappling hook and rope, he steps to the other side of Daryl and throws the grappling hook across the bookcase currently surrounded by squirming worm swarms. Wrapping the rope around his forearms, the goblin throws his entire weight and strength into trying to topple the tall, heavy bookcase forward.

Move three squares to the east. Throw rope and then use Elegant Maneuver to gain Advantage on next Athletics check which is to pull the shelves. Hoping the shelf is tall enough to catch both swarms near Lindaer

STR(Athletics): 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (15) + 6 = 21
STR(Athletics): 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (13) + 6 = 19

Dang, I forgot about the +3 from Daryl when saving. That would mean I didn't need to use inspiration to make the first save since I only missed by 1.

Momentarily caught by the acid blast, Tarn quickly skitters backward flipping the tattered remains of his cloak into the air at the last moment to avoid the hissing splash of worm bile.

The goblin twists away from the swarm and focuses on their creators, running his rapier deep into the creature's interior and using his short size to strike further and cause even more destruction to it squirming guts. He then dances back to the north away from swarm and wormanoid.

All saves for 0 damage. Step and attack Yellow adding Fury of the Small to damage. Bonus Disengage and move two squares north.

DEX Save vs DC18: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (6) + 11 = 17
Inspiration DEX Save vs DC18: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (12) + 11 = 23
DEX Save vs DC18: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (20) + 11 = 31
DEX Save vs DC18: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (12) + 11 = 23

Rapier Attack vs Yellow: 1d20 + 13 ⇒ (15) + 13 = 28
Damage: 1d8 + 7 + 9d6 + 17 ⇒ (2) + 7 + (5, 1, 2, 6, 5, 3, 6, 4, 5) + 17 = 63

Tarn's face grimaces with concern as Lindaer falls to the wormanoid thing, but for the moment there was little the goblin could do except try to thin out the swarm of worms closest to him.

Rapier Attack Nearest Swarm: 1d20 + 13 ⇒ (6) + 13 = 19
Damage: 1d8 + 7 + 9d6 ⇒ (7) + 7 + (5, 1, 2, 2, 3, 1, 5, 2, 1) = 36

Not sure if the attack has any effect. Disengage and step back, under Daryl.

Using Falko as a fleshy shield, Tarn manages to avoid most of the acid damage. With the smell of dissolving flesh still hanging in the air, he steps forward and runs his rapier through the nearest wormanoid. Or rather attempts to. Instead he steps forward, slips in a puddle of dissolved Falkogoop, misses and with a curse deftly dodges back to his original position.

DEX Save #1: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (16) + 11 = 27
DEX Save #2: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (1) + 11 = 12

Rapier Attack vs Red: 1d20 + 13 ⇒ (1) + 13 = 14
Damage: 1d8 + 7 + 9d6 ⇒ (7) + 7 + (4, 4, 2, 5, 4, 5, 6, 4, 2) = 50

Save for 0 damage. Fail for half damage. Miss with the second 1. Bonus action to disengage again.

For the moment Tarn ignores the swarming wormlings and instead steps up and once again jabs his blade into the closest wormanoid. He then dances back behind the big barbarian and under the floating paladin.

Step, Attack Green, Bonus Disengage and retreat to the square east of Daryl.

Rapier Attack vs Green: 1d20 + 13 ⇒ (12) + 13 = 25
Damage: 1d8 + 7 + 9d6 ⇒ (2) + 7 + (5, 3, 3, 3, 5, 3, 4, 6, 5) = 46

Yep, going to change. Hit with rapier, then disengage to move behind Falko.

Rapier Attack vs. Green: 1d20 + 13 ⇒ (18) + 13 = 31
Damage: 1d8 + 7 + 9d6 ⇒ (1) + 7 + (5, 5, 2, 6, 1, 3, 2, 5, 4) = 41

At the first sight of the worms, Tarn immediately makes sure his mask is secure and covering his nose and mouth. Having seen to that small precaution, he quickly runs up the side of the nearest bookcase to the top. Drawing his hand crossbow he lurks in the shadow at the top of the bookcase, waiting for his opportunity to strike.

Stealth to Hide: 1d20 + 16 ⇒ (8) + 16 = 24
Crossbow Attack vs Green: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (6) + 11 = 17
Damage with Sneak: 1d6 + 5 + 9d6 ⇒ (2) + 5 + (2, 6, 3, 5, 1, 3, 6, 3, 1) = 37

Move up the bookcase. Bonus action to hide. Draw and Attack if possible.

Chuckling softly at the picture of that musician elf's face when he looked upon the ruin of his precious harpsichord after Dasim had completely obliterated the offending instrument. To be fair, the elf had cheated and Dasim has never been able to tolerate the Umaran Polkas the band had been playing all night. The mere thought of those jarring minors on the harpsichord cause the goblin to stop and shiver for a moment. The world was definitely better for having ended that particular musicians carrier early on. He was just awful enough, that it's possible he could have taken off and become popular at some point. Suppressing one last shiver at the thought, Tarn returns to the task at hand.

"Found something!" He shouts from inside the small space.

Pulling out his dagger and trusty wire cutters Tarn gradually clears the way for him to drag out the curious metal torso and legs. After much grunting, cursing, a variety of metallic bangs and clatters followed by the occasional wad of wire flying out of the crawlspace opening, a gritty, dust covered goblin reemerges dragging the bulky crystalline form free of its storage place.

"Thought this might be worth a closer look." He says bending the feather of his now dust-coated hat back into place and plucking a bit of wire from the tatters of his shirt sleeve.

Leaping away from the remains of the machine and the access panel as the big mechanism collapses, Tarn gives Falko a withering look. "Are you finished?" He asks in a flat controlled voice. He points to a few still standing tubes. "I think you missed some so..." The area he's pointing to collapses with a glass shattering crash. Wincing at the sound the goblin simply shakes his head and moves back over to the crawlspace.

"Try not to send the rest of it crashing down on me..." He adds crawling into the tunnel.

Tarn looks with amazement upon the long rows of display cases. He take a few moments to search among the display tags for the name Hazirawn or one of the others he saw listed within the big stone book.

Investigation: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (13) + 7 = 20

Feeling better and better about his recently added mask, Tarn leaves the illustrious Zaph's graffiti and continues up the stairs toward the sound of the rhythmic thumping.

Barely slipping out of the way of the charging sorceress, Tarn watches with surprise and just a hint of barely disguised revulsion as Szasa kicks the defenseless head down the northern passage. A single small clawed finger scratches behind his ear as he shakes his head in slight confusion.

"So book burning and now corpse desecration. Loremasters grace! Can someone explain to me again why goblins are the ones being hunted so often here in the north?" The goblin can't help but ask as he ties a thin cloth bandana over his mouth and nose.

"Since we know so little about these creatures, I'd rather not take the chance of breathing in any worm spores, eggs, or whatever these things might use to reproduce, that may have been stirred up by Szasa's rather aggressive attack against a defenseless corpse." His eyes flick to Falko with a bemused glimmer. "They clearly have some way of replicating. Most likely the eggs lie dormant until disturbed and then up your nose they go. Probably feels like a tickle or itch inside your body that you can't scratch or reach at first as the little critters wiggle their way further and further inside..." He lets his voice trail off and then walks quietly on up the passage to get a better look at the graffiti.

Tarn watches as the smoke from the bonfire of books drifts up and out the eastern exit. Figuring this might lead the way out, he agrees the Fin and follows the smoke east, eyes watching for any sign of wraiths upset by the ransacking of their library.

Perception: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (17) + 7 = 24

When aren't your northern gods riled? Tarn can't help but wonder. But he merely shrugs and leans against the frame of the eastern exit waiting for the others to be satisfied the bonfire is going sufficiently to take care of business.

When Szasa asks him about artifacts he simply offers another casual shrug and nods. "If by weapons that hold the spirits of mortal warlords, priests, wizards and other heroes of this ancient Netherese empire? Then yes. It's all in the big stone book up there." After flicking a bit of wraith ooze off his threadbare and worn sleeve, he points to the south where the book still sits on its pedestal "Some poor fool named Hazirawn who gave his all for queen and country apparently ended up being turned into a big sword. A bunch of others in there. Book seems to be something of a catalog of soul infused items...or maybe an obituary of Netherse heroes. All depends on your perspective I guess."

Tarn chuckles softly to himself as Falko storms off in frustration. It seems some things are the same no matter if from the north or south. The goblin thinks to himself. His memories drifting back to some of the more inexplicable arguments he'd had with Khadi over the years.

"Don't worry friend Falko." Tarn hollers after the barbarian. "Books are good and must be preserved at all costs...unless they contain information you fear or do not understand. In that case they are bad and must be destroyed at all costs." He flashes a confident grin at Szasa, knowing he's helped patch things up between her and the besotted barbarian. "It's really quite simple, is it not."

"Yet I'm not sure we should delay our explorations for a good book burning. In fact, I think we should seek out this battery that seems to have been mentioned in several places, including the original Thayan documents." He adds walking up to the next exit.

"Ooookaaaayyyy." Tarn says slowly backing away from the book. "It seems they took their best and brightest heroes and put them into various weapons, rings, and other stuff." He shivers slightly at the thought of being trapped inside a sword and relays what he learned from the book to the others.

Tarn rolls his eyes at Falko's obvious disdain of books. "And you northerners say my people are barbaric." He says shaking his head in mystified wonder as he walks toward the big open book to the south.

"Although I will say, a book this size seems a bit impractical. I mean really a stone cover? Not really going to take that on a trip to the seaside are you." His ramblings continue as he looks over the pedestal and then climbs up to get a closer look at the writing. With a frown he reaches up and moves the battered feather in his hat back and forth a few times.

"Blasted thing must have got out of alignment during the fray with the wraiths." He says continuing to adjust the long feather. Finally he smiles and nods with satisfaction. "Ah....that's better. Now let's see what was so important it had to be written in a great big stone book."

Investigation: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (10) + 7 = 17

Using Comprehend Languages to read the book.

Tarn's waits for the others to recover and catch their breath. Once all are ready he walks toward the second door marked with the orcish lettering and pokes it open.

Heading through the south door if agreed and ready.

"I wonder if those were the ghost of the people Falko saw earlier." Tarn speculates while sheathing his sword and poking through any undead remains. "Perhaps their evil deed of attacking the helpless woman stained their souls and made them victims of...whatever this is." His hand waves around at the walls of this strange pyramid he finds himself in.

Not really knowing an answer he eventually shrugs and offers a wide, toothy grin to Falko. "A fine combination we made between maul and blade, wouldn't you say?" The goblin pauses for a moment gazing hard at the barbarian. "You seem a bit pale. Kind of like Lindaer over there. Are you feeling well?"

Stepping up next to Falko, Tarn stabs his blade into the next wraith and swirls it like a swizzle stick in a cocktail to slice at any remaining bits and pieces that could be important to the creatures continued existence.

Move south one square. If I need to be opposite Szasa for flanking sneak then can step one more to the west.

Attack vs White: 1d20 + 13 ⇒ (14) + 13 = 27
Adv Attack vs White: 1d20 + 13 ⇒ (7) + 13 = 20
Damage: 1d8 + 7 + 9d6 ⇒ (3) + 7 + (5, 1, 5, 2, 3, 4, 6, 4, 4) = 44

With another wraith sent back to the abyss, Tarn glides forward with a flourish of his rapier. As the wraith before him lights up with fae colored light, a giant arrow flashing 'Stab me here!' that guides the goblins blade as he lets out a gleeful laugh.

"Ahahahah! Die foul shade of the netherworld. Return to your grave and bother this world no more."

Move to engage yellow on the north square next to Falko.

Attack vs Yellow: 1d20 + 13 ⇒ (15) + 13 = 28
Adv Attack vs Yellow: 1d20 + 13 ⇒ (1) + 13 = 14
Damage: 1d8 + 7 + 9d6 ⇒ (3) + 7 + (4, 2, 4, 6, 6, 1, 4, 2, 2) = 41

"Haha! Welcome to the fray my friend. Your maul shines with the glory of the gods." Tarn shouts as Falko fells the nearest wraith. "Let us strike another down and thin this wicked heard before they gain any further advantage on us." He adds sliding toward the wraith a few paces away. Once again the little goblins enchanted blade sinks deep and slices away at the ties and bindings that keep the spirit attached to the material plane. He then dances away from the wraiths reach.

Move two squares directly west to engage orange. Use Rakish Authority again to gain Sneak. Use Fancy Footwork to avoid AOO and move 15' back to the east. Ending one square right of where he started.

Attack vs Orange: 1d20 + 13 ⇒ (17) + 13 = 30
Damage: 1d8 + 7 + 9d6 ⇒ (6) + 7 + (4, 5, 4, 4, 5, 3, 5, 1, 4) = 48

Seeing the wraiths slip past the bars Tarn's ears droop in disappointment. But when two of the undead come up and lash out at the surprised Falko, the little goblin growls and enters the fray.

"Come Falko! Awake from your stupor and let us put these fell souls back into the grave for good." He says stepping up along the wall, keeping a little distance between himself and the barbarian giving him more space to maneuver and slip his blade into the key places that hold the wraith to this existence.

Move diagonally south and east to the shadowed square near blue. Using Rakish Authority to gain sneak damage. Rapier is +2 magical weapon.

Attack Blue Wraith: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (16) + 11 = 27
Damage: 1d8 + 7 + 9d6 ⇒ (6) + 7 + (5, 6, 1, 1, 6, 5, 6, 4, 3) = 50

Hearing the shouts of his comrades, Tarn backtracks toward the cells. Arriving next to Falko he stops and waits to see if any of the creature can actually pass through the bars to escape the cells.

Move to the arch just behind Falko.

Hearing Falko's shout Tarn rushes out of the cell and into the bigger chamber with the others. Seeing nothing beyond the archway, he gives the barbarian a closer look but then shrugs, accepting that the human saw something.

"Perhaps we should check the other archways in case they were able to duck back behind these curious void curtains?"

Looking to Falko he gestures toward the other arches. "Which one did you see them appear from?" He says and then walks over and again pokes the surface of whichever arch Falko points out. But this time he first draws his rapier and stands ready in case there's trouble beyond.

Poke and Dodge actions.

Makes sense to me. Totally fine with all that you mentioned.

"Fascinating." Tarn says stepping through the arch with an almost unconscious duck to avoid the odd black substance. As he explores the prison, he takes a closer look at the skeleton, looking for any sign of how the poor soul may have died.

Investigation: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (10) + 7 = 17

"Loremaster's grace...the bones are covered with tiny bite marks, as if the poor creature had its flesh stripped away by hundreds of tiny creatures." Tarn says, his breath hissing with concern as he pockets the magnifying glass and looks about the room for any sign of the small creatures that appear to have inflicted the damage.

Perception: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (10) + 7 = 17

Finding no connection between the names listed and the Thayan expedition, Tarn shrugs and joins Falko at the entrance marked with the orcish 'B.' Gazing into the darkness, the goblin squints for several seconds trying to see anything beyond, but then shakes his head.

"Looks like there's only one way to find out what is beyond." He says poking a finger into the darkness before eventually stepping through.

Tarn ponders the graffiti for a few moments and tries to remember the various names listed on the earlier Thayan contract they'd found. "Does anyone recall if these names match any of the names from that earlier contract?" He asks pointing toward the chalked names while doing his best not to look directly toward the disconcerting void beyond each of the other archways.

"Perhaps these are just markings to let others know they at least made it this far before succumbing to the worm infestation?"

Tarn moves toward the staircase, a look of satisfaction mixed with curiosity on his face. "Odd...it is like my vision, but the staircase is not bent and ruined..." It is then that the words translated by his trusty hat register within in mind.

"Hurry! It's saying the portal will close in a count of ten!" He shouts to the others and hurries up the stairs.

"Ooooooh!" Tarn groans and gladly accepts Falko's offered hand as he rubs his eyes trying to clear away the vision.

"Thank you for your concern my friend." He says, slowly regaining his sense of balance. He starts to shake his head, but thinks better of it as his face turns a bit green...a more sickly green. "No. No I do not think it was poison."

He holds out the empty box. "Nothing in there but rotted padding."

With a puzzled look, he glances back toward the dais and its offering bowl. "I don't think it was the box at all. Instead, I believe it was linked to the offering. I received a vision." He says pondering what he saw as his tries to explain it to the others. He looks up at the inverted pyramid hanging over them. "I saw the tip of the pyramid hanging open, and old iron staircase leading inside. I tried to look within but the way was blocked by a giant oozing mass pushing through from the chambers beyond the entrance. Before I could do or see anything else, the ooze dropped down onto the dais. Where I could see it was a disgusting ball of green worms covered in some sort of slime and detritus." He shivers slightly remembering the squirming mass of worms.

"Not a particularly uplifting vision at all. And I've no idea if it was merely a possible future, a warning, or something we must prevent. Either way, I think we are going to need to get in there if we are to discover what happened to the Thayans." He says pointing toward the pyramid.

The tingling sensation suddenly stops as Falko uses his blade to block the energy flow.

"Interesting...very interesting." The goblin mutters to himself. "But I'm afraid we're going to need whatever knowledge the ritual is meant to share at some point." He says to Falko, but then shrugs and kneels down to take a closer look at the metal box.

Perception: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (8) + 7 = 15 Becomes 17.

If no traps detected and box is locked. Use Thieves Tools: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (16) + 11 = 27