Barshevy follows Lafiel.
"I don't see no stinkin wraiths." Wispers Fargrim as he carefully steps toward the altar.
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As Fargrim approaches, he sees that the serpent curled about the base of the altar appears to be only a skeleton, its skin hanging from the bony ribs. The staff is cut from dark, polished wood, and carved in the shape of a flaring cobra.
Fargrim, Drivish, Lafiel:
Note that the lightsource is a sunrod in the tunnel, so light here is dim.
Once everyone is down, Qadim-sul will follow behind, looking out for snakes or other bitey-things.
Group in room
"The shadows appear to be some sort of guardians. Barshevy, do you want to take a look in here?"
The cleric enters the altar room, sunrod in one hand and bag of coins in the other.
"Ah, yes. Just as Lafiel described it."
He lifts the bag up and addresses the serpentine wraiths.
"I believe this belongs to your god."
He takes half a step towards to altar.
Barshevy hands his sunrod to Fargrim. He holds the sack with both hands and proceeds to the altar, then pours the glittering golden coins into the copper bowl.
Tossing the empty sack on the floor, Barshevy is about to take the staff. But then he stops and eyes the skeleton suspiciously. He takes out his holy symbol and begins to pray ...
"What's the matter, Barshevy? Are you converting to the snake god?"
The cleric gives the dragonborn a look of irritation. He touches the staff, then lifts it off the altar ...
"Can we can take the gold coins back now? No use to leaving them here for another hundred years" Lafiel whispers to no one in particular.
Barshevy relaxes, smiles and presents the staff to Fargrim in exchange for the sunrod.
To Lafiel he says, "no, my dear. Those coins have a cursed magic about them. It made me insane with greed, which is why I practically tore it out of your hands. I'm sorry, my friends, I had no control. I am now myself again."
"Cursed magic on coins? Why would anyone want to do it? And who is this snake god?"
"In the distant past, humans once worshiped the spirits of beasts and such. These poor, primitive folk somehow associated snakes with Tiamat, the god of dragons. It wouldn't surprise me if the Parhok people worshiped Tiamat in this snake form."
"That figures." Drivish mutters while eyeing the the altar. "On the way back, somebody should remind me to destroy this thing. Our mission is too important to risk doing it now. Is the staff worth anything?"
Drivish then slowly tries to advance past the shadows to square H11, and looks ahead.
"Hold, Drivish. We should get some rest. This room is easily defendable, although the snake altar is eerie indeed."
"Don't worry, Lafiel. I'm just as weary as you, but I want to be certain we aren't sleeping on sombody's stoop."
"You're right of course. We should check the other entrance." Lafiel follows Drivish to the other exit from the room.
Barshevy approaches the party's resident mage.
"Rin, is it possible for you to know if the serpent staff has powers?"
"Ya. I'd like to know if this thing's got any powers too. Don't wanna be cursed too ya know, since i'm holding it now. No offense priest.."
Qadim-sul finally joins the party in the room. "I'll take a look at the staff if I may, Father," he says. The genasi studies the staff, turning it over in his hands.
Arcana (1d20+10=16)
Rousing himself from his mildly guilt-stricken state for nearly killing Drivish, Rin prods experimentally at the rod.
"Thanks Barshevy. And I apologise again for my inept attempts to break the curse on you."
Arcana check on snake rod (1d20 9=23)
"I should be able to find out something..."
"Barshevy, there's something magical in your pack. Can I look? The snakeskin and the rod as well."
"What? I hope it's not what I think it is!"
He sets down his backpack and opens it up.
Rin reaches cautiously for the snakeskin while Barshevy fumbles in his pack.
The cleric backs away from his pack, where the hand has been waiting for him.
"Ah! There is evil in this horrid place! Pelor, please protect me! Protect us!"
"Father, can the holy flame of Pelor destroy this thing?"
Rin looks wild-eyed at the reappearing cursed hand.
"Good idea Rin. Please, everyone, step back. I don't know what will happen next."
Once his companions have retreated back into the outer corridor he begins a holy chant.
Lafiel returns with Drivish and announces: "The other corridor is clear". After listening to the mummy hand conversation, she adds: "This place unnerves me. Both gold coins and the mummy hand. Doesn't seem like stuff is safe here."
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The mummy hand disintegrates under Pelor's light.
Rin:
This snakeskin cloak shimmers in dim light, and makes soft,
slithering noises when the wearer moves.
Item Slot: Neck
Power (Daily  Teleportation): Move action. Teleport
to 5 squares; gain CA against one adjacent enemy.
+1 Snake Staff
The wooden staff is carved in the shape of a hissing snake,
a ruby clutched between the snake’s long fangs.
Implement (Staff)
Critical: +1d4 damage/plus.
Power (Daily  Poison): Free Action. Use this power
after a successful melee attack. The staff comes to life,
wrapping around the target. Target is immobilized and
takes 5 persistent poison damage (save ends).
Note that the items also give their usual slot bonuses (+1 F/R/W for the cloak, +1 hit/dmg for the staff).
Rin reveals his findings to the group.
"I would suggest that Lafiel could use this cloak at least."
Lafiel examines the cloak. "If it wasn't magical there would be no way that I'd put it on. From Rin's words, it should let me move unexpectedly faster when needed. Just like the snake whose skin it was made."
The cleric looks much relieved after destroying the mummy hand.
"The staff I cannot use. It's a symbol of Tiamat. And she is is no friend of Pelor, to say the least."
"The staff I cannot use. It's a symbol of Tiamat. And she is is no friend of Pelor, to say the least."
"My people have no qualms about using an enemy's weapon against him. If the priests of Pelor created a weapon that could harness the destructive power of the sun, I'm pretty certain Tiamat's slaves would covet it."
Drivish waits patiently by the exit during the rest, actively listening for any sound of enemies.
Perception = 23
"I, on the other hand, can use this staff and I've got no qualms whatever about using the enemy's weapons against them." Rin grins cheerily, helfting the staff in his hands to get the feel of it.
"Mind you, if I start acting oddly, just do me the favour of concussing me and taking it away." He shrugs. "It might happen - after all, anything strong enough to take over Barshevy's will is hardly going to have a problem overcoming mine."