Tzoltan shakes his head from side to side, slowly. "I might not have much experience in this sort of thing, but those grooves in the floor have got to be for blood, right? It's not gonna be my blood - I'm using all of it. Corvin must have some to spare."
Tzoltan watches the room closely, anticipating that something awful is about to happen to Corvin.
Corvin crosses over to the panel without incident.
Corvin
Corvin traces his finger along the intricate runes engraved into the wall.
"Hey, 'Narath! There's a crack o' some sort in the wall here. Maybe a door. Spikes seem pretty fixed, too. Come have a look."
Seeing nothing horrible happening to Corvin, Tzoltan can't help himself. He walks slowly over to the area where Corvin is looking (giving the chair plenty of space), takes out a sheet of paper and charcoal, and makes a rubbing of the symbols on the wall.
He then makes every effort to work out what's going on with the spikes and the crack in the wall.
Perception (looking for secret door): 3+6=9
Disable Device (or whatever is appropriate for inspecting the spikes): 11+9=20
Tzoltan, you notice the roughly square crack in the wall, but you don't see a way for it to be opened. The spikes seem firmly affixed, so you doubt that they could be part of a trap that involves them springing from the wall to impale you. You can see a faint sheen of moisture on the spikes.
Tzoltan frowns, confused and frustrated. Thoroughly aware of his limitations in this matter, he removes a crowbar from his pack. "All right. Time to get serious. If this is a door, it's coming open.
Anarath sighs, squints his eyes almost closed, and once again mouths the words to his Detect Magic cantrip, peering around the chamber.
Tzoltan goes to work on the wall, prying at stiff panel. At first he doesn't get any results, but after a few moments work the panel gives a little, and the gap widens slightly. A few minutes work should be sufficient to pry the panel from the wall and reveal its secrets.
Anarath, once again the room gleams with arcane power.
Tzoltan: Perception 4+6=10
Dhorlok: Perception: 1+3=4
'Wha?"
“Hmmm…”
Afer a few minutes of work with his crowbar, Tzoltan's efforts pay off. The square in the wall detaches, revealing a small passage in the wall. Although the perfect size for a kobold, to such taller folk as yourself, it is a crawlspace. About 30 feet down the small tunnel, you can see dim light.
"Aha!" Tzoltan exclaims with an obvious satisfaction. He then visibly considers who should go first, and realizes it's probably himself. He carefully packs away his crowbar, goes down onto his knees, and carefully inspects the tunnel as he crawls in. He'll move forward until he can make out the source of the light.
Perception: (checking for traps): 12+6=18
I'm leaving on my Christmas vacation soon. No internet access for two weeks. Happy Holidays!
Tzoltan makes it to the end of the passage without either finding or triggering any traps.
Tzoltan
Anarath bends down and peers into the passageway, trying to see what Tzoltan has found.
"'The hell?"
"Well ... shall we see who it is?" Anarath makes to crawl into the tunnel.
"Well ... shall we see who it is?" Anarath makes to crawl into the tunnel.
"Wait. Me first. If anyone gets killed, it's gonna be me, not you."
Anarath nods, and stands back. “That sounds like a fine plan.”
Tzoltan stops where he is, remaining silent and waiting for Corvin to catch up. He grips his hammer, expecting the situation to turn violent at any time, but makes no aggressive moves.
Corvin clambers into the small opening, his broad shoulders nearly unable to fit, and begins to crawl along the tunnel's lenght. His armor grinds and clatters along the rough stone walls.
"This f@*+er's gonna blast me, I know it."
When Corvin pulls himself into the room the man turns around, his impatient and annoyed expression swiftly switching to one of shock. He looks like he's young, early twenties by your judgement. Staring at Corvin with piercing blue eyes, he seems speechless for a moment. "You are...not the butler."
When Corvin pulls himself into the room the man turns around, his impatient and annoyed expression swiftly switching to one of shock. He looks like he's young, early twenties by your judgement. Staring at Corvin with piercing blue eyes, he seems speechless for a moment. "You are...not the butler."
"What's your point?"
Tzoltan stays in the tunnel, trying to keep himself concealed in the shadows.
Hide: 17+9=26
Anarath tries to peer past Tzoltan to figure out what is going on.
The young man fiddles nervously with the quill in his hand "Uh, excuse me...sir...but the only one who is allowed entrance here is the butler and the doctor. I'm rather ill, you see. So, I have to wonderm who are you, why are you here, and how did you get this far into the Manor?"
The young man fiddles nervously with the quill in his hand "Uh, excuse me...sir...but the only one who is allowed entrance here is the butler and the doctor. I'm rather ill, you see. So, I have to wonderm who are you, why are you here, and how did you get this far into the Manor?"
Corvin looks at the man, then back through the shaft.
"You gettin' this, Anarath?"
The man stands, nervously trying to peer around Corvin "H-how many of you are there? Why did you come here?"
“Yeees,” says Anarath slowly. He crawls into the tunnel, squeezes awkwardly past Tzoltan, cursing under his breath, and emerges ungracefully into the room.
Straightening his clothes and standing, the elf looks at the young man, then looks about the room. “I am Anarath,” he says, addressing the man, “and my companion is Corvin. Who are you? It was our belief that this manor house had been abandoned for decades … when was the last time you saw the butler, or the doctor?”
The man laughs "Abandoned? No, no the Manor is not abandoned. I saw the butler only a few hours ago, and the doctor just yesterday."
Bowing in an almost courtly fashion he says "And I, I am Tallius Grimmbold."
"You're a loony."
Dohrlok stays at the entrance to the tunnel, and does not enter. He tries to listen to what transpires, but he's most interested in guarding their back. He keeps his crossbow at the ready.
“Then something very odd is going on,” says Anarath, “for we have been exploring the place for the past several days – and the house we have been exploring is a decrepit near-ruin, infested by kobolds and worse. Suffice to say the butler did not meet us at the door.” He looks thoughtful.
The young man laughs at Anarath "Good sir, I don't believe that I'm the loony in this situation. The butler is still here, as are all of the other people who should be. I must wonder though, how did you get this far into the Manor? Did you sneak in? I find that unlikely; this place is as much a fortress as a manor."
The young man laughs at Anarath "Good sir, I don't believe that I'm the loony in this situation. The butler is still here, as are all of the other people who should be. I must wonder though, how did you get this far into the Manor? Did you sneak in? I find that unlikely; this place is as much a fortress as a manor."
"Uh, no... We kinda just, y'know, walked in. Well, mostly. Had to kill a whole s*@&eload o' kobolds, plus those... what were those again, 'Narath?"
Finding himself in the midst of his first encounter with a potenatially hostile (and apparently insane) adversary, Tzoltan crouches nervously in the tunnel shadows, intending to remain unnoticed. He listens carefully to the conversation, wondering if he's heard the name before.
He laughs again. "Kobolds? You sir, are insane; the last tribe in this area was slaughtered months ago."
Tzoltan
"Should I hit this guy? He's scarin' the s**&e outta me."
Dohrlok sighs, suspecting either the man's "illness" is one of the mental variety, or, more likely, that he's some sort of undead creature trapped in a perpetual state of self-delusion. Either way, striking him would avail little.
"No." Dohrlok answers, calling down the corridor.
Dohrlok sighs, suspecting either the man's "illness" is one of the mental variety, or, more likely, that he's some sort of undead creature trapped in a perpetual state of self-delusion. Either way, striking him would avail little.
"No." Dohrlok answers, calling down the corridor.
"Meh... 'Suppose you're right. Could be one o' them time-dilation things..."
“Grells, and worse,” Anarath answers Corvin. “And no, best not to hit him.” He turns to the man. “Well, the fact is we are here,” he says, his voice tinged with annoyance. He looks about the room, searching for other exits, windows and such. “What year is it, out of interest?” he asks absently.
Tallius glances nervously at Corvin before looking back to Anarath. "The year? 4706 of course."
The room has a large skylight in the center of the ceiling, a good twenty feet above the floor. Apart from that, there aren't any windows, nor any exits apart from the small tunnel you came through.
"How do your butler and such get to you? Through that crawl-tunnel we arrived through?"
Tallius laughs again "Crawlspace? Good sir, if that hallway is a crawlspace to you, I am in envy of your home."
Tallius laughs again "Crawlspace? Good sir, if that hallway is a crawlspace to you, I am in envy of your home."
"The f@+* you say..."
“Well … don’t mind us then.” Anarath turns his back on the man and begins searching the room for anything interesting, while Midnight’s beady eyes also look about the room from the bird’s perch on the elf’s shoulder.
"I don't think there is any great danger in here ... just oddnes," he comments, to no-one in particular, although his attention is focused towards the crawl-space. "I wonder if one of us could climb up to that skylight and look out..."
"I wonder if one of us could climb up to that skylight and look out..."
"I'll give it a whack."
Corvin attempts to climb up the brickwork, his armor scraping noisily along the stone.