Kev listens to the animalistic screams from the corridor, trying to figure out might be making them.
"Friend, since you're still invisible, why don't you go down there a bit and find out what's waitin' for us?" he whispers to Deris.
“Nice hit Olli,” drawls Thorn. “Now – hey, were’d the balmy and his big friend go?” Thorn trots back out of the room into the kitchen to make sure that his “charge” has not escaped.
On the second floor, the beastial sounds continue; they rise and fall in chaotic gouts of sound. Distinctly, you can all smell something like mould, caged animals and rotten fruit. The area is pitch black as Rennet mounts the stairs, keeping a hand to the wall until he reaches a corner and an opening. He can hear hushed voices under the creatures, which suddenly stop when he is heard.
Kev/Deris
Under the loud, echoing screeches, you can hear footsteps approaching from downstairs and into the hallway.
O.L.L.I gathers up any portable items the dead elf had for scrutiny later and follows Thorn out of the room.
Kev draws his rapier as he hears the footsteps coming up the stairs. He retreats into the deep shadows along the wall, waiting to see what comes up the stairs.
Kev draws his rapier as he hears the footsteps coming up the stairs. He retreats into the deep shadows along the wall, waiting to see what comes up the stairs.
Ducking into the concealing darkness, Kev can see the slim man with the metal plate bolted over his mouth from downstairs feeling his way along the wall. It doesn't seem as if he can see where he's going. A patchwork collection of badges, holy symbols and other identifiers of authority tinkle quietly against his chain hauberk. He grips a scythe in his left hand while he feels his way with the right; even in the milky black and white of your darkvision you can see that he is wounded in several places.
The hooting creatures continue to make their aggitated sounds, though it's difficult to pinpoint the exact source on the floor. You can hear a banging, one object against another and the loping pad of footsteps.
O.L.L.I gathers up any portable items the dead elf had for scrutiny later and follows Thorn out of the room.
O.L.L.I picks up:
-A finely crafted steel dagger in an ornate scabbard.-A black-dyed leather satchel with several pockets and compartments sewn inside.
-Six marbles
-Needle and a spool of thread
-10 sheets of parchment and a little bag of chalks and charcoal
-A quill and a jar of ink (shattered)
-A leather-bound (and slightly ink stained) journal/spellbook, written in Elven, detailing the recent events in the life of Willem the Grey, aspirant to the Planewalker's Guild.
-various spell components
-a small chalkboard upon which there is the faded remnants of a drawing
As O.L.L.I gathers up the items he tries to determine the type of ink in the smashed jar, if there was anything different than the standard. He also attempts to memorize the markings on the chalkboard for later reconstruction should they become smudged. He blots up any extra spilled ink on the book to prevent any further smudging.
“Nice hit Olli,” drawls Thorn. “Now – hey, were’d the balmy and his big friend go?” Thorn trots back out of the room into the kitchen to make sure that his “charge” has not escaped.
It seems that while you were looking at the pantry, the mouthless wonder has disappeared somewhere.
As O.L.L.I gathers up the items he tries to determine the type of ink in the smashed jar, if there was anything different than the standard. He also attempts to memorize the markings on the chalkboard for later reconstruction should they become smudged. He blots up any extra spilled ink on the book to prevent any further smudging.
You can't tell the difference as far as the ink goes. It's black, liquid and seemingly ordinary. The chalkboard has a few lines left on it, but it's pretty well smeared. Some of the ink has dried on its surface, as well, further obscuring what used to be there.
It seems that while you were looking at the pantry, the mouthless wonder has disappeared somewhere.
“Damn it to the Abyss,” Thorn snarls, looking about. Hearing some faint sounds from upstairs, he trots around to the staircase. Fortunately his goat-parts are fairly nimble, and humanoid designed staircases cause him no real impediment, although they’re somewhat tiresome … ladders on the other hand … are difficult.
He looks up the stair, his nightvision piercing the darkness, looking for a sign of Mouthless. If he can see him, he’ll call out, “Oi! Berk! Come back here!” – Either way he’ll start up the stairs.
After cataloging the evidence, O.L.L.I hurries after Thorn
Ah hells, here he comes again. I’m going to stuff my pack with hay in case this ever happens again.
Rennet picks up the pace.
The bariaur's shouting from the stairs brings an abrupt cease to the hoots and growls further into the second floor. A silence blankets the ruined halls.
....
All at once, a great drumming is heard as of several loping, running feet hitting rubble-strewn floor. The gibbering cries are louder now, more aggressive to match the uneven rhythm on the floorboards. You can smell animal fur, offal and the iron undercurrent of blood congealing in the air. In the inky blackness on either side of the hanging man, you can see several pairs of red eyes; their hoots and hollers are loud in your ears now, their scent filling your noses. They have slowed around the end of the short hallway, but you can't imagine these things will be content to study you from there....
Those with darkvision (since I don't recall anyone keeping a light source lit).
It is with bemused horror that you note that each one is wearing human clothing, maybe a bit bigger than it should be. Empty scabbards sit on belts, too large pants are rolled up at the cuffs. Some wear conical helms, like seashells, and beaten brass breastplates. Others are clad in dyed leather or loose robes and a turban. You count three of them in front of you.
"Ah, damn." Kev whispers to Deris "I don't know if you can see em', but there are four nasty lookin' berks behind that strung-up fellow.".
He falls silent, watching the four creatures, ready to counter them if they charge.
“Styx take me, what now?”
Thorn clatters the rest of the way up the stairs, rounding the corner and pushing past the balmy, into the corridor above – whatever is up there, he doesn’t want to fight it halfway up a stairway.
Glancing around, his darkvision allows him to see the figures beyond the body strung up in the webbing. He fails to see the Aasimar who came up here before … unless he’s the corpse.
The bariaur grips his sickle tightly, and inclines his head slightly, narrowing his eyes – and is suddenly immolated as his body is sheathed in a halo of bright flames.
... flame ... blood ...
Init: 9+2 = 11 if required.
"It isn't a party until there's a bariaur on fire."
---Popular fiendish saying
With the sudden illumination, the creatures go ape-s*#~ (pun intended); jumping up and down, screaming and hooting, pounding their fists against their patchwork and stolen armor/clothing. Two come hollering out of the ruined tangle of suites in front of the dead man holding rusty machetes and hatchets, each wearing ill-fitted bits of armor and clothing. The flames cast the scene in a hellish red orange glow; the horrific primates, the suspended dead man with the mould growing from his side and the hall abandoned to bedlam.
Reghar: 23 (downstairs?)
Kev: 22 (upstairs, hiding)
Lysanderis: 17 (upstairs, hiding?)
Thorn: 17 (upstairs)
Rennet: 16 (up or on stairs)
O.L.L.I.: 13 (downstairs)
Thorn’s action will depend somewhat on the tactical situation on his turn – but assuming that he can move at least ten feet in a straight line towards one of the critters standing in front of the web, he will lower his horns and initiate a powerful charge on the nearest monkey-man, in which case:
If a charge is not possible, he will move forward and attack with his sickle instead, in which case:
Rennet stumbles as the quicker quadruped catches up to him…and then blows right on past him, only to burst into flames at the top of the stairs.
Oh yeah, “I’m” the crazy one here. Riiiiigggghhht.
Wondering about a potential immolation trap at the top of the stairwell, Rennet calmly puts away the torch (thanks to the living candle) and retrieves his scythe.
What is all that commotion? This right here is why I shun groups. And rams. Must add rams to the list of things that need shunning.
Reghar: 23 (downstairs?)
Reghar: 23 (casting flame blade)
Kev: 22 (upstairs, hiding, action readied vs. approaching ape)
Lysanderis: 17 (upstairs, hiding,watching)
Thorn: 17 (upstairs, charging or attacking Monkey 3)
Rennet: 16 (upstairs, drawing weapon, dropping torch; wait)
O.L.L.I.: 13 (pulling out wand of CLW, moving up stairs)
Fiendish baboons: 19 Baboon spot roll (1d20+5=14)
At the sounds of approaching battle, Reghar hurls himself up the stairs to the second floor, only to find his path blocked by the other investigating Cagers. He closes his eyes and finds the memory of his first successful campfire on the tundra, the watcher in the night that kept the other beasts at bay. The hair on his right forearm singes as a tongue of flame leaps from his hand and he answers the creatures' primal hoots with one of his own...
Kev clings to the deeper shadows cast by the flaming bariaur and readies his slim blade for his enemies' vitals.
The primate dressed in the oversized brass breastplate pauses a moment to beat his knicked machete against his armor before charging at Thorn, a hellish gleam in its eye.Charge attack, baboon 3 vs. Thorn (1d20+5=7, 1d6+2=7) With the benefit of his ramlike lower body, Thorn weathers the impact of the creature's assault and catches the brunt of the blow on his shield. The baboon's hair singes from the bariaur's halo of fire, but the extent of the damage doesn't seem serious Halo of Fire damage:1d6=6 vs. Resist Fire 5 = 1 fire damage
The hatchet-wielding baboon seems intent on following his mate's lead and dashes headlong toward Rennet, only to be intercepted by Kev's swift blade...(Kev, you can roll your readied attack; sneak attack applies since he didn't see you)
If it survives, it attacks Kev now that he's noticable Hatchetman baboon attack/damage (1d20+3=13, 1d6+2=4)
Behind the strung-up corpse, two of the hairy baboons split up in opposite directions down the far hallway, loping quickly with simian strides. Meanwhile, another (this one dressed in a monk's cassock too large for him) picks up a long, rusty pike and starts jabbing at the corpse, knocking some of its tethers loose and exposing more of the mold stuffed inside. Frost begins to spread across the walls and floor and the primate's breath comes in a steam. It grits its teeth as bits of frost cling to its hair and eyelashes.
Thorn bats the baboon aside with his wooden bulwark and slashes for the creature's exposed throat. He can feel the impact up his wrist to his elbow and the hot blood on his arm as the monkey's throat is cut. It hits the floor with a thud, blood still pumping from the wound, a look of furious incomprehension forever frozen on its face.
Rennet places his magical torch on the floor and gets his scythe into a defensive stance. From the stairwall, the modron's heavy tread (accompanied by the groan of rotting wood) come closer, even as his monotoned voice inquires as to the "status of fellow sentients in the residential corridor".
This so reminds me of the time I licked that Slaadi on a dare and dreamt I was a starving artist riding a tube to work every day.
This so reminds me of the time I licked that Slaadi on a dare and dreamt I was a starving artist riding a tube to work every day.
Ready for the next round/any questions or comments.
“Abyss poxed vermin,” spits Thorn, kicking the corpse aside, then taking a few steps away into the side-chamber as he hears the brutish half-orc racing up the stairs behind him. Don’t want to get between him and them, he thinks.
He allows the flames around him to die away, as they seem to do little more than singe the monkeys, and glances about the chamber, looking for a way around behind the webbing, or any further enemies.
Kev's attack misses, so there's a monkey in the square right in front of him now. With Thorn moving over, Reghar can move around everybody in the hall.
Having already seen the half-orc in battle, Rennet moves aside without hesitation.
Reghar: 23 (attacking as soon as the space is open?)
Kev: 22 (?)
Lysanderis: 17 (upstairs, hiding,watching)
Thorn: 17 (stepping aside to F18 on Cartographer Monkey's map)
Rennet: 16 (moving back to the head of the stairs)
O.L.L.I.: 13 (?)
Fiendish baboons: 19
There is currently a baboon menacing Kev with a hatchet, a baboon pushing the moldy corpse toward the party (everyone in 10 feet of the corpse will take 3d6 nonlethal cold damage) and the other two baboons have split up and run either side down the corridor.
Running through the permutations of battle, O.L.L.I chants a string of high-pitched words and reaches for the burly half-orc, his skinny arm glowing.
"Fellow co-combatant Reghar. This spell will protect you from chaotic creatures."
From Thorn's vantage point (a few quick glances away from the hooting baboons and a little hasty guesswork) he can see that the room is, not surprisingly, pretty desolate. The Ysgardian hunter in him can recognize some spoor here and there, broken furniture and a lot of benign mold. From the hallway, the room extends into the remains of a 10 foot square bedroom. There's a wooden crate and some overturned barrels in there, the contents hardened over time into a syrup. Whoever's been living here is disgusting. A gaping, rough edged hole in the wall to your left permits access to another room.
Reghar: 23 (attacking as soon as the space is open?)
Kev: 22 (Attacking fiendish monkey)
Lysanderis: 17 (upstairs, hiding,watching)
Thorn: 17 (stepped aside to F18, action readied)
Rennet: 16 (moving back to the head of the stairs)
O.L.L.I.: 13 (Moves up to Reghar, casts Protection from Chaos)
Fiendish baboons: 19
Bellowing his own feral response, Reghar charges down the corridor past the bariaur and pretty boy, swinging a three-foot length of flame at the baboon. melee touch w/flame blade (1d20+6=17, 1d8+2=9) The creature's unnatural hide does not singe as easily as expected, but Reghar's blow is a solid one and the beast screeches with fury as its skin blisters and the hair on its back singes. (Net damage: 4 points)
Seeking to capitalize on the screaming half-orc's attack on the screaming monkey, Kev cuts an attack at the creature 1d20+2=4, 1d6=4, but since he is unused to the close quarters and having an "ally" at his side, the jab is easily dodged by the recovering baboon.
With a hoot of triumph from the baboon at the end of the hallway, the stitches that hold the moldy corpse together come flying away and for a brief moment, it is airborne. It's skin slops open, brown mold seeping out in response to the warmer air around Reghar's flame blade. (3d6 nonlethal cold to Kev and Reghar; I'll check on the rules for cold resistance for Kev)
Smarting from Reghar's assault, the hatchet-wielding baboon leaps at the half-orc (1d20+3=8, 1d6+2=4), who bats the weapon aside with his shield.
From the adjoining corridors (d18 and i17, respectively) the other two hooting abyssal baboons join the fray, one stabbing at Thorn with a spear, the other throwing another hatchet at Kev.
Longspear jab at Thorn:1d20+3=18, 1d8+2=3
Thrown hatchet at Kev (1d20+3=10, 1d6+2=8)
Rennet, still nursing injuries from downstairs, backs up to the head of the stairs with his scythe at the ready. Clanking all the way up the creaking stairwell, O.L.L.I pushes his way into the hall and recites a rhythmic exaltation to Universal Law and its inevitable triumph over Chaos, imploring that the will of the One and the Prime protect Reghar Bloodseeker from disharmony and anarchy. Reghar feels a little queasy.
“Gah!”
Thorn’s perusal of the chamber is rudely shortened by a spear being jabbed into the thigh of his foreleg, as one of the monkeys has quickly run around and approached from an unexpected direction. “Dirty damn apes,” he snarls, and steps forward, attempting to gut the fiendish hominid with his sickle, but the pain in his leg causes him to stumble slightly as he advances, and his blow is awkward and easily avoided.
Thorn attacks the nasty little critter again – taking a 5 foot step forward if necessary (assuming it steps back to attack him with the spear):