Dorhlok attempts to punck one of the kobolds as it attempts to stand, but misses. Once it regains it's feet, he attempts to grapple it.
NPCing Corvin
Corvin charges the black robed kobold with a viscous cry, attempting to smash him into jelly but the kobold step aside and Corvin barely manages to avoid slamming into the wall in front of him.
Yes, you are in the room.
Dohlrok, Corvin, Scrumble
Okay, he looks closer at the door and searches the room more thoroughly.
NPCing Corvin
Corvin charges the black robed kobold with a viscous cry...
Both kobolds stand up from where Anarath's spell left them lying. One stab at Dohlrok as he launches an ill timed swing but misses. The other moves towards the apparently oblivious halfling and hacks at him with his massive greatsword, which Scrumble mostly dodges. He's still cut a little as the sharp steel bites into his arm.
“Ach, missed,” curses Anarath. “My parent’s would be so proud.” He aims, and fires again at the black robed kobold. His aim is better this time, but will it be good enough?
The arrow slams into the kobold's chest, knocking him backwards with a cry of pain.
Dohrlok flounders about, not hitting anything and wondering if his father was right that he was better off as a mushroom-tender.
Corvin turns around and charges one of the remaining kobold warriors, screaming a stream of profanities. He slams full into the kobold, which squeaks pitiably as it dies, smashed to paste by the human.
(Sigh...) Haven't you ever read the Dragonlance books?!
Well, it's like a long willow branch with a forked end at the top and a sling in between and tapered bottom with copper plating for stabbing. That cover it?
NPCing Gawlak
Gawlak charges into the room, morningstar ready, but can't quite make it into range of the sole suviving kobold. The kobold starts chanting in a language that none of you understand. Theres something eerie about the strange syllalbes that echo weirdly around the stone hall.
"DIES MIES JESCHET DOUVEMA DOESEF BOENE ENITEMAUS!"
NPCing Scrumble:
Scrumble turns around and nimbly tumbles away from it.
Concerned at the chanting from the remaining kobold, Anarath again tries to target him with his bow… an unfortunate choice it seems.
Dohrlok punches out at the kobold connecting with a firm blow and holding it tightly.
"Shall I kill it or should we hold it to question it?"
Dohrlok punches out at the kobold connecting with a firm blow and holding it tightly.
"Shall I kill it or should we hold it to question it?"
"KILL THE SCALY BASTARD!"
“Question it, if we can,” answers Anarath.
The hall you're in is about 30ft long and made of gray granite blocks. At the far end of the room there is an iron-bound door with a defaced coat of arms and a newer mark that you don't recognize carved into the iron. On the floor there are the cracked remains of statues that once must have resembled human wariors but now are mere chunks of stone. Under the stone and bleeding kobolds are the remains of a grand rug. The ceiling arches into a slight dome above you, mostly obscured by the darkness. As Dohrlok hits the kobold in the black robe it slumps to the floor, bleeding from a broken nose and quite unconcious.
"This place gives me a major uncomfortableness. 's f~!+ing creepy, it is."
Under the rug there seems to be nothing but dust, tatters of the ancient rug and clumps of dust. A few spiders scurry out from underneath the rug into recesses of the room.
Search 22
If you succeeded on the Search check and a DC 20 Knowledge (Religion) or a DC 20 Knowledge (Arcana) check:
Anarath aids Scrumble in searching the chamber.
"Hey look I found something!"
“Give me that!” snaps Anarath, trying to snatch the pendant from the kender’s fingers – or at least get a good look at it.
“hmmm…. It looks like the symbol of Illaydren, a rather obscure deity of summoning, madness and mystery. Somewhat evil reputation…”
"So, er, what about this guy?" says Dohrlok, who is pinning the struggling kobold.
"So, er, what about this guy?" says Dohrlok, who is pinning the struggling kobold.
"I didn't think it was putting up much of a fight," says Dorhlok. "Do we want to keep it, or shall I just strangle it?"
As you discuss the kobold's fate th massive iron-bound front doors begin to swing shut with a loud grinding noise. The crack of daylight that lights the room with its dim light thins. Soon you're left in a pitch black hall, shut in Grimmbold Manor.
"Aw s#+#," mumbles Corvin. He gets a running start, smashing into the iron-bound door. Colliding with a resounding crash, the fighter crumples to the floor. After a few moments, he whispers "I think we're stuck in here."
"What's the problem? I can see perfectly."
"What's the problem? I can see perfectly."
"Why? An't nobody can see in the dark... Unnatural, it is."
"Well there has to be someway to open the door!
Let's try the other door, Dohrlok if you please..."
"If you have lanterns or torches, I will light them for you."
Midnight squawks in alarm as the doors slam shut.
Anarath clears his throat … “erm … I just remembered, I bought oil but no lantern… I hope one of you others has something. Did we all make it inside? Gawlak, Gries, are you in here?
“As for the kobold, whilst information would be valuable, I have had poor luck at getting information from anyone so far, be it kobold or elf. I little relish that thing coming to and wringing our necks in the dark, so perhaps we should pre-empt that…”
In response to your question directed at Greis and Gawlak, you hear only silence in the hall. You recall that they were both near the door when it closed...
"I've got a torch!" says Scrumble, stumbling around trying to find Dohrlok.
Corvin fumbles around in his pouch for anything useful. His fingers close around a flint and steel.
"I got one o' them fire-starters here."
Dohrlok takes the items proffered by Scumble and Corvin and lights the torch.