Filios has been eating during the discussions, and upon completion of his meal, he chugs down the remainder of his Elven Gold. It appears as if, with Solomon's assistance, Torag will light our way within the crypt. I assume that Petvar's general mapping of the area landmarks will guide our way out. Again, I thank you for the opportunity, and I am now prepared to see what the crypts have to offer!
"I also have chalk available to label any doors and rooms as we explore. It should help in making our way back." Petvar finishes his steak and downs the last of his Storval Whip. With a furious shake of his head, Petvar grins widely, "That was a strong one. Just the way I like 'em. That will keep the cobwebs out for a couple of days."
Darren watches the others finish up, and realizes he's a bit behind. He tucks in the last of his dumplings and lifts the bowl to drink the rest of the broth, figuring that present company, in present circumstances, would forgive the poor manners. He takes a drink of his ale, but leaves a bit for a last swig after everyone gathers their gear.
As it is the first truly decent meal that he has had the fortune of consuming since leaving his ancestral Skycity, Morthos attacks his dinner with great gusto.
As the others finish-up their repasts, he finishes off his drink with a few deep pulls, before commenting:
"I find your terms to be acceptable, and I am eager to get cracking on this enterprise - a worthy challenge is always appreciated!"
Morthos takes a few seconds to Prestidigitate his beard clean, before clarifying a few points:
"So essentially, we go in, clean-house (keeping a specific eye out for Tripe), and come out again, turning over any Pharasman relics that we find, and keeping anything else?"
That is my understanding, Morthos. Let's do this!
Darren stands up, checks his backpack, trying to position a sunrod for easy access, and straps on his shield. He finishes off his ale. "I'm ready as I will be." Turning to the priestess, "Thanks for the food and the job. We'll get it done."
Solomon also accepts the offered vials, stuffing them into his belt pouch along. Adjusting the straps on his pack, he looks around at his fellow adventurers. "Ready when you are, gentlemen."
"I guess my lady Nerissia, this means that we are ready, willing and able to begin your quest. No sense in waiting any longer. If you would please lead us to where we need to be, that we may begin." Petvar stands up, accepts the offered vials and puts them into a couple pockets. He then turns to the lady Nerissia, "Thank you for the delicious meal and the added equipment. I know they will come in handy. Of course, you probably already know that." Petvar gives Valanthe a smile and a wink and begins to follow whoever is leading this promenade to the Godsmouth Ossuary.
Nerissia takes the group down the side of the cliff the mouth that serves as the opening to the ossuary, picking up the noted supplies and giving them to the party on way. At the entrance to the ossuary, one of the crypt guardians with a giant key hanging from his neck guides you through the currently used levels of the ossuary; they are ornately decorated, well lit, and aside from being fairly full, there are no signs of any unspeakable deeds occurring here, despite what many of the rumors would have you believe. You eventually come to a section that sits in stark contrast to the rest, dusty and unused, shortly before finding yourself standing in front a great big stone door. The ossuary guard unlocks it long enough for you to step inside, locking it behind you again as it creaks shut on hinges clearly not used much lately. You find yourself on a small landing that sits at the top of a long, descending spiral stairway. As the door closes, the last of the light slowly gets pinched off until you are standing in total darkness at the top of stairway that even the dwarves can't see the bottom of. I need a marching order, please.
"Solomon, don't suppose you could provide us with a hint of light? If everyone would stand still for a moment, I'll do a quick inspection of the stairs to see if there are any tracks leading away. Since they said they were losing corpses. After that, I'm okay in front or back."
Solomon mumbled a short prayer and touches the blade of Petvar's longsword, which immediately begins to glow as brightly as any torch.
"That light is only gonna last about a minute or so, and only one at a time, but like I said, I can do that prayer over and over.
As for a marching order, just tell me where yer wantin me, and I'll be glad to be there."
Filios shoulders his way to the front of the group, and he draws both his Long Sword and Short Sword.I will take a forward position next to Petvar so that I can help to locate and disable any traps that may pose a danger to our advancement.
Petvar looks around the top of the stairs, trying to find anything that might indicate that someone else was here before us.
Right now I have Petvar leading followed by Filios; I am guessing Morthos will want to be somewhere close to the middle, so hows this for the marching order: Petvar, Filios, Morthos, Solomon, Darren?
Petvar takes a gingerly first step, and then a second. After about five steps he gets a little more comfortable moving down them. He keeps his sword with the light held aloft in front of him. Allowing Filios to search for traps as they head down the stairs, Petvar takes it slowly, one step at a time. Stopping for a moment, Petvar reflects on something and cocks his head. "If this hasn't been used for millennia, then why isn't there any dust?"
Petvar continues walking down the steps, contemplating the absence of dust and what it might mean.
Filios gingerly proceeds behind Petvar while searching the stairs and walls for traps. Good point Petvar. Maybe the lack of movement has prevented the settling of any dust, but I am certainly no Dwarf. Maybe Solomon and Morthos can explain it?
"I'd like to take position near the front, sirs. Some early action would help settle my nerves. But if you feel it's more important that I protect our flank, I'll do that."
"Sure, no problem Darren. Have Solomon cast his light spell on your weapon. I'll take the back, you can be in front. Just make sure you protect Filios as he's checking for traps." Petvar flattens himself against the wall and and allows everyone to slide past. He then continues, following the group, constantly looking over his shoulder to make sure nothing else is behind them.
After going about 40 feet down the spiral staircase, the light suddenly dims so that only dim shadows are created from it, and Morthos finds himself being grappled by a flying cloak.
The dice changed values on me for some reason; the new values have been taken into account.
Solomon casts his Lightspell again, this time casting it on Darren's weapon.
"Gentlemen, as plentiful as my prayers for light can be, I think it'd be more practical to use something a little longer-lasting, then to have to stop to allow me to cast it every minute we're walkin.
As far as why there is no dust, give me a minute to think."
[ooc] Craft: Stoneworking
Solomon casts his Lightspell again, this time casting it on Darren's weapon.
"Gentlemen, as plentiful as my prayers for light can be, I think it'd be more practical to use something a little longer-lasting, then to have to stop to allow me to cast it every minute we're walkin.
As far as why there is no dust, give me a minute to think."[ooc] Craft: Stoneworking 1d20 + 5
Examining the stonework does not reveal why there is no dust, but it does reveal that it is very well made and very ancient.
"What in the hells is that thing!" Solomon whispers quite loudly at the sight of the whatever-it-is on Morthos.
[ooc]Knowledge: Religion if I can to try to figure out what it is.
Filios turns to Morthos behind him, and he attacks the Cloak with two weapons. Watch out Morthos!
Long Sword:
Long Sword Dam:
Short Sword:
Short Sword Dam:
The creature will continue to latch onto Morthos and its tentacles deal 7 points of damage.
Since it is would have had to enter Morthos square to grapple him, I suppose you probably are, just don't roll ones, or you may hit Morthos. Go ahead and reroll.
The action of checking the stonework would have been before the battle, so you still get your turn.
Solomon swings him hammer at the cloak.
Filios attacks the cloak on Morthos from a flanking position with Solomon. Hang on Morthos!
LS ATT:
LS DAM:
LS Sneak Att Dam:
SS ATT:
SS DAM:
SS Sneak Att Dam:
Confirming LS Potential Crit:
Crit Damage = 20
Petvar looks at the cloak covering Morthos. "I can't reach it, Solomon is in front of me. And I don't dare shoot it, I may hit Morthos." Frustration at his inability to do anything useful flushes over Petvar's face.
Filios manages to pierce the creature's heart without hitting Morthos. Upon closer inspection, you see a that the creature is not so much a cloak as it is a flattened stalactite looking creature with long tentacles connected by flesh that apparently got trapped in here at some point.
Petvar looks at the cloak covering Morthos. "I can't reach it, Solomon is in front of me. And I don't dare shoot it, I may hit Morthos." Frustration at his inability to do anything useful flushes over Petvar's face.
You've heard descriptions of similar things from your fellow Duskwardens, but you cannot quite put a name to the creature.
Morthos carefully peels the now-dead creature off of him, regarding the bruises covering his arms with no small amount of dismay. Using his axe as a probe, he looks the creature over carefully.
"What the devil is this thing..."
He then swallows his Potion of CLW in a single gulp...
...which causes most of the bruises to fade.
"Right them. Shall we continue?"
Darren looks down at the creature. Since there appears to be more than skeletons down here, he decides to put the mace away, and draws his longsword.
Filios looks up to see if there may be more of the same lurking above.
Perception:
What the hell was that thing? Morthos, are you ok?
Filios wipes his Long Sword on his pant leg and keeps both weapons at the ready.
"I've heard descriptions of creatures similar to this. Not sure what they are called though."
Turning to Darren..."I can hold the sunrod if no one else can. I've got a buckler strapped to my left arm, but I'm not currently carrying anything in that hand."
"Well, it did knock the wind out of me a little bit, but I should be fine - it takes more than that to keep a good Dwarf down!"
"Aye, that is does. Shall we carry on?"
After glancing at it for a few moments, Morthos finally puts a name to it, though it takes Petvar's help to fully understand what just happened. It seems this darkmantle got stuck in here, and in order to maximize its chances for getting food, learned how to emulate a cloaker to a certain degree.