“Looks like we’re on the same side for now,” says Thorn, turning back from the darkened doorway to Reghar. “I need to keep an eye on the balmy until I can get him to safety anyway… I’m going to check out this room back here.”
Thorn trots into the room and looks around, his darkvision easily penetrating the gloomy lighting conditions.
You nimbly trot over the pile of corpses. It is only a moment before your eyes adjust to the near total darkness within and you see in fuzzy greyscale a dilapidated kitchen/larder. The hearth is cold, the winerack trashed completely, casks and kegs shattered. Crates and shattered glass lay strewn about, the odd dagger or unbroken potion bottle giving hints that perhaps more than mere kitchen supplies were kept here.
A cutting block seems to be the only implement used recently, stains and rusty knives the only hint that a meal may have been prepared there in the last decade. Further in, you can see a bricked up back entrance/exit and two doors on your right.
"Excellent, Kev. Let's see how close we can get to this little fly before the spider shows back up," she said as she took a few steps closer to the door way.Kev considers for a moment before saying "Alright, a joining of forces. The name's Kev.""Fine." Kev says, lowering his hand and letting the light fade. Blinking to adjust to the sudden darkness he says "Alright, now I'm hoping that we can discuss this like reasonable adults at least I assume you're an adult and that our reasons for being here aren't mutually exclusive. What're you proposing?""A joining of forces, at least until we figure out what other beasties are hiding in this dump," Deris said, keeping her voice neutrel. The half orc downstairs was beginning to annoy her but she focused on the task at hand.
"Olli, there're some more rooms through here - want ta' take a look, or will we head up and see what pretty boy was yelling about before?"
O.L.L.I comes over to where Thorn is standing and proceeds to scan the carcass carnage.
"Interesting. It seems there has been a great many discorporations using extreme force. Most chaotic."
O.L.L.I comes over to where Thorn is standing and proceeds to scan the carcass carnage.
"Interesting. It seems there has been a great many discorporations using extreme force. Most chaotic."
Looking over the bodies, it appears slashing/hacking implements were used to dismember them, though some are covered in what appear to be snake bites. You can't tell how long they've been there.
As your quick examination goes over the bodies, you notice what seems to be a sack stashed under the bar.
While the bariaur and the modron take a look behind the bar, Rennet casually grabs the most stable wooden chair of the lot (three and a half legs) and takes a seat.
"Alright then, let's see what surprise we'll spring shall we?" Kev mutters, looking around for a small object to toss through the web.
"Alright then, let's see what surprise we'll spring shall we?" Kev mutters, looking around for a small object to toss through the web.
Grabbing a chunk of fallen plaster, Kev pitches the projectile toward the web of stitches around the corpse. Above the suspended body, you hear a snap as one of the unseen chords breaks. The man sags a little in his tethers as a string rapidly unwinds from a stitch in his side, its counter-weight gone. The air suddenly grows chill as..some sort of mold or fungus seeps out of the wound, likely drawn to the humidity in the room.
...
As your quick examination goes over the bodies, you notice what seems to be a sack stashed under the bar.
O.L.L.I reaches down to retreive the sack, pausing momentarily to scan the area under the bar where it is stashed in case there are any traps or other surprises.
Noticing nothing under the bar that poses a threat, O.L.L.I grabs the sack and opens it. Within, he can see a fairly large sum of gold, minted by various sources (200 gold), a monkey carved out of jade and a foot-long length of darkwood with a tip carved in the shape of a curled claw.
O.L.L.I scans the coinage and the items, accessing his memories for any logical correlations or information. He tries to discern where the primary origination of the coinage is, and any files on Abyssal artifacts.
O.L.L.I scans the coinage and the items, accessing his memories for any logical correlations or information. He tries to discern where the primary origination of the coinage is, and any files on Abyssal artifacts.
The majority of coins are embossed as wagon wheels; the standard of coinage from Tradegate in the Outlands. Since O.L.L.I isn't a huge coin collector, the rest look pretty foreign; kings in profile, a jester's domino, eagles and rams are stamped on many of the coins.
The jade monkey doesn't look particularly fiendish; only one head, no chicken legs and the darkwood stick is adorned with a decidedly feline claw. The modron doesn't feel a tingle of doom or anything just holding them and he can't recall any kind of abyssal artifacts like these. Not nearly enough spikes or skulls in the decorative motif.
O.L.L.I turns to Thorn and shows him the sack.
"Whoever discorporated these beings either was in a great hurry or didn't care about tangible assets."
O.L.L.I looks up at the bariaur
"Do either of these artifacts look in any way familliar to you, friend and fellow adventurer Thorn?"
Kev hastily retreats down the corridor, pulling a dirty rag from his pocket and covering his mouth and nose. "I'd move. That strung up berk is leaking fungus and I ain't planin' on finding out what it does." he says to his invisible companion, his voice slightly muffled.
Whatever it is that's coming out of him, it's thus far remained on the corpse. From a space just below (or above, since he's upside down) his ribcage to his armpit the mold has spread. Beaded bits of water from the humid air have frosted on his skin and the floorboards.
Warden:
Thorn eyes the bag of coins that O.L.L.I. holds greedily. “That’ll go some way towards paying what Enoch owes the Fated,” he says, licking his licks with his pointed tongue. “Mind if I hold onto those Olli?” He reaches out a hand to take the bag, but stops short of actually snatching it from the modron, although his fingers make little grabbing motions, and his head twitches.
… wealth! … gold! … blood money … whispers the voice in his head.
Thorn:
O.L.L.I looks at the sack, then hands it over to Thorn.
"As the legal representative of the Fated, this coinage should be placed in your care. However, this unit would advise that we attempt to discover the signifigance of the two artifacts before returning them to the Hall of Records. They might give us some insight into Enoch. Are any of the beings in this tavern capable of a magic detection spell?"
Rennet shakes his head from side to side in the negative (and adds a thumbs down, to avoid misinterpretation).
Rennet shakes his head from side to side in the negative (and adds a thumbs down, to avoid misinterpretation).
O.L.L.I distributes 5 sheets of parchment, some ink and a quill to the face-plated being.
"Sonically-challenged provisional ally Rennet. Please take these writing accoutrements in the name of better communication between our group."
Rennet writes: "You talk enough for both of us."
Reghar tags after the group. Whatever happens he'll get whatever's owed.
O.L.L.I looks at the sack, then hands it over to Thorn.
"As the legal representative of the Fated, this coinage should be placed in your care. However, this unit would advise that we attempt to discover the signifigance of the two artifacts before returning them to the Hall of Records. They might give us some insight into Enoch.
Thorn nods. The avarice that has overtaken him is not entirely of his own choosing – it appears to value the gold coins more than anything else.
He takes the bag and puts it into has pack, eyeing Rennet and Reghar sidelong. When no-one makes any move to stop him, he shrugs slightly then says, “Let’s try these doors – this one’ll do,” pointing to the southernmost of the two untried doors in this chamber.
Thorn shoulders his way into a dark, square-shaped room. Each wall is covered in shelves containing foodstuffs of questionable freshness. Sacks of floor and grain, wheels of cheese, some vinegar, sugar. The odd jar of preserved vegetables. Like most of the inn, the place is a mess; however, all the vermin underfoot (a few rats, mostly) are already dead.
Sprawled out on the floor is the motionless form of an elf in grey robes, his right hand purple and swollen. A short distance away sits a small, overturned teak box. Several sheafs of paper seem to have spilled out of it and onto the floor. There is no means of egress beyond the door you just walked through.
Looks fine to me, thanks. If I had more time I'd make my maps all purty in Illustrator or something, but...I don't have more time.
Thorn glances around the room, taking particular note of the box, the spilt papers, and the swollen hand – poison? The snake-men, or a trap on the box?
O.L.L.I trails Thron into the room and observes the contents. He attempts to approach the prone elf, trying to ascertain if he still lives or is dead.
This place got crowded in a hurry. I’m definitely not following the goat.
Rennet retrieves his torch and mulls over the merits of heading upstairs.
Thorn:
The elf's chest is not moving and breath does not escape his lips. Delicately turning over the box with a handy weapon, neither O.L.L.I nor Thorn can notice an immediately apparent mechanism or needle. The corpse's hand is so swollen, it's hard to tell where the wound is. At his belt you can see a leather satchel and a curved dagger in an ornate sheath.
There are about ten sheets of paper on the floor and, it seems, a note or letter. Two sheets seem to be invoices or manifests; tables, sums of money and signatures. The other eight bear marks of saddle-stitching and dried, brittle glue on one edge, leading the seasoned bookeepers to conclude that these were torn from a book or journal. A flowing, spidery script scitters across the pages in black ink almost as if they would move. Another page seems to be half of a map, marked in black, red and blue ink with topographical information, roads and settlements.
The note reads in Planespeak:
"Dearest guest,
I apologize for not being able to greet you in person, but I'm afraid I've become much more popular than I like. If you wished to pick my brain, however, here are a few choice bits of the saner parts and a token gift of my affection.
I hope for both of our sakes that we do not meet soon.
Your friend,
E.E."
Deris and Kev:
O.L.L.I looks at Thorn
"Friend and fellow adventurer Thorn. Poison does not affect this unit. Allow this unit to assume primary investigation in case there is a venomous agent about."
O.L.L.I sets to collecting up the manuscript pages and organizes them. He attempts to read them, and if they are not readable he casts a Comprehand Languages on them. After this he studies the elven corpse, seaching it for any clues and any items to identify the remains.
The corpse doesn't have any identification. The closest thing is a tattoo of a star on the back of its left hand, just below the thumb. Their satchel contains what seem to be spell components and adventuring supplies; owl feathers, a small spider in a jar, a wooden target, sulphur, silver wire, wax, ink and quills, flint and steel, a short iron rod.
O.L.L.I praises the presence of Universal Law as embodied by the One and the Prime in the patterns and construction of language and the ability to read new scripts is revealed to him. Without thought, the words on the pages form sounds in the modrons mind. However, the sounds are unintelligible, which is unusual. Perhaps the words are in a cipher.
O.L.L.I attempts to memorize the nonsense sounds in his memory for transliteration later.
“No problems Olli …” he lowers his voice and whispers, “I saw something over by those racks – couldn’t get a sense of how big it was, going to move closer…”
He eyes the papers that O.L.L.I. is reading thoughtfully for a moment, then heads over to the racks, wary and alert.
Left to his own devices, Rennet has little to do except sit and listen for trouble.
Thorn
You can see from a quick glance that the letters seem to be in Abyssal, though they're all nonsense words.
Reghar and Rennet
Distantly from upstairs you can hear a lot of hoots and screeches. Like several agitated animals.
Well, I’m certainly not finding Tuerny’s skull sitting in this chair, now am I?
Rennet proceeds up the stairs.
Why don’t they have any shoes…? I must come back when they reopen.
O.L.L.I finishes his storing of the papers and scans the room for this possible hostile being Thorn mentioned.
Thorn and O.L.L.I scrutinize the racks, carefully turning over containers. Finally, you corner it. A spider the size of Thorn's hand is backed into the corner, its large abdomen decorated with a black and red pattern.
O.L.l.I scruitinizes the spider
"Interesting. This unit calculates to a 79.677% degree of accuracy that this is an arachnid of the Latrodectus mactans variety. Obviously very poisonous."
O.L.L.I attempts to smash the spider with his hammer Spanner.
The spider squelches sickeningly, adding another brown stain to the shelves and walls of the decrepit larder as O.L.L.I's hammer smashes it with a precise application of force.