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The troglodyte flicks its head between its pursuers and the freedom of the darkness ahead, Slitted eyes narrowing in resignation, the scaly creature spins around to fight. Lashing out with sharp claws at the elven rogue, it leans out to bite at Thovar.
*miss*
*miss*
*hit*
The claws scratch harmlessly at Alerion's armour, but the creatures sharp teeth sink into Thovar's flesh.
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Alerion's blade punctures the Troglodytes scaly hide, sending spatters of blood to mix with the filthy water on the ground. Caelwyn is unable to gain a clear shot at the creature due to the chaos of combat, though, and Thovar's hammer once more proves ineffective. Stepping forward to fill the gap left by his fellow dwarf's sidestep, Olomorn swings his axe in a powerful arc that leaves it embedded deep in the Troglodyte's chest.
Slumping against the wall, the creature slides limply to the floor.
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Olomorn swings his axe in a powerful arc that leaves it embedded deep in the Troglodyte's chest.
Slumping against the wall, the creature slides limply to the floor.
With a grunt – Olo pulls his blooded axe out of the creature’s chest.
“Well…that’s done finally.” Olo looks at the blood on his axe and chuckles slightly, shaking the blood off.
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"Well then, as if it even needs to be said...it's best we be on our guard. Any of you who see a whole lot better in the dark want to volunteer as scout? They'll see my light coming from quite a distance. Let's make haste as I do not wish to spend more time down here than absolutely necessary." He holds the collar of his robe over his nose in the vain attempt to ward off the stench.
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The slain troglodyte was carrying no belongings with it, apparently relying on its sharp claws to defend itself and its dull scales to help it blend in with the stony surfaces of the sewers. Alerion finds that the metal box had sunken to the bottom to the overflow chamber, but with the rope still floating on the surface of the water it is a simple matter to pull out the battered and tarnished box—thousands of tiny scratch-marks line the interior, while the outside is plain, but dented and marred with patches of rust.
Heading along the tunnel, following the flow of the shallow water, you pass many tiny channels, either feeding more water into the central channel, or diverting some of it to other locations, but so far it seems to be only the single westward path wide enough to be easily traversed.
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Moving through the foul smelling sewers, Levistus' overcharged senses catch a sound echoing towards you from somewhere up ahead. It is not long before everyone except the reminiscing dwarf can also make out the sounds of a deep, guttural voice, occasionally interrupted by the sounds of loud, unrefined chewing.
"Me no like old room anyway!" The voice exclaims boldly in broken common, "nasty, nasty lizardy thing no hurt me here... this me new home, lots of tasty food!"
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Getting the scouts attention by momentarily dousing his light Levistus whispers, "It sounds like someone may have lost his place of residence to either the trog or perhaps the aberration we seek. If you'll allow me I will attempt to handle this diplomatically and discretely. Perhaps we can gather some valuable insight into our quarry while we are at it."
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Alerion and Levistus move on, leaving the loud Dwarves behind. After about 80', the walkways to either side of the sewer flow suddenly turn hard to the left and right as the sewer opens into a large 30-foot-by-35-foot chamber. The murky water flow slows here to a crawl and the smells of trash and offal grow strong. Piled in each corner of this room, half on the walkway and half in the water are mounds of storm debris, rubbish, and animal corpses. A large drain pipe juts down a few feet out of the 10-foot-high ceilings and drips water through a grate into the center of the room.
Feasting messily on one of the piles of refuse, the source of the voice becomes clear. A large mass of brown flesh stands half submerged in the far corner of the chamber, a long leathery tentacle ending in a cluster of gleaming eyes looks on the offal greedily, while another tentacle covered in viscous barbs shovels the muck into the creatures toothy maw.
You recognise the creature as an Otyugh, a disease ridden aberration whose main concern is feeding its hunger with whatever organic material is available. Otyugh's have two powerful, barbed tentacles with which they grab their prey, but this one seems to have been badly injured, leaving one of the tentacles limp and useless.
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Obviously taken momentarily aback by the surprisingly non-humanoid and disgusting creature in front of him Levistus takes a moment to find his voice, "Ex-excuse me....but I couldn't help but overhear that perhaps we share a mutual problem. My companions and myself may be amendable to returning your "old room" to you and dealing with this "lizard creature" for some information and possibly guidance if you would be agreeable. By the way, my name is Levistus, may I have yours?" He says while continuing to cover his nose with his collar.
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The ugly creature stops its meal when Levistus speaks, turning the long eye-tipped tentacle to observe the new-comer.
"Me no give name!" the thing spurts at Levistus, "you rude man! You int—you inter—you stop me eating! This food time!"
The tentacle sways back and forth, appraising the sorcerer hungrily, "but maybe you not so bad... you smell tasty—er, you look er... friendly! You come closer?"
