With Eilieen and Ozzy both clinging to the rope (though clinging might be a little optimistic in Ozzy's case), Fergus continues to haul them up.  The load is not particularly heavy, really, but speed is of the essence and Fergus is putting his back into it, using brute force to drag the rope hand over hand.  The sooner they're safe, the sooner he can help Aarnr.

"Well, now," Erista says calmly, "He threw a staff.  No sense getting all worked up about it before we know for sure which staff it was.  破壞 幽靈," she adds, helpfully, sending another lance of light down at the spirit, although somewhat less brightly than last time.

The encounter with the top of the hole almost proves lethal for Eileen, thanks in part to Fergus' enthusiasm; with a squeak, she snatches her head out of the way of the lip and only suffers a grazed shoulder.  "Up and out, Oswald!" she cries, struggling to boost the halfling to the edge so she can scramble out herself.

With that solved - only a modicum of panicked movement and shoving - she rolls away from the hole and scrabbles around to crawl back, this time to stick her head through in search of her friends.  "Gods!  Aarnr!  The rope!  Drop it down again, Fergus!"

Likely an unnecessary request, but while she avoided excess back at the temple, it seems a perfect time for it now.

OOC - Apologies, but I had a long weekend.  :(

Once out of the hole, Ozzy simply rolls off to one side until something solid blocks any further distance from the chaos and screaming. He lays there catching his breath, blinking slowly and thinking how the darkness, the cool floor, it all seems like a terrible place to take a nap. He struggles to stand, leaning on the wall for support as he does so. The urge to sing has all but left his small heart. Maybe later, when they can see the sky again. Right now, he's just too weak and tired.

They say that no plan survives first contact with the enemy.  It is, then, perhaps a good thing that anybody who had descended into the crypt had done so with no plan...

Ozzy and Eilieen are hauled upwards with what, to them, probably seems like painful slowness...  Fergus' powerful arms work tirelessly to bring them to safety.

Aramil continues to recite his poem of heroism and bravery and victory over the forces of darkness.  His enthusiastic oratory fills the hearts and minds of his listeners with hope, and inspires them to greater effort.

In Colwyn's case, this greater effort is expended, for the most part, in ordering Bilfro around...  Bilfro, himself, arrives at the trap door, and peers into the aperture to see what all the fuss is about. 

Down in the crypt, Aarnr, in his frothing rage, clearly mistakes the staff for some sort of poorly designed spear and hurls it at his dark foe.  The staff flies from his hand and clatters, uselessly, against one of the coffins arrayed against the wall.

And two more beams of light pierce the gloom.  One, cast by Corian, the spectral Eralion avoids easily.  The second, from Erista, brings a cry of rage and pain as it once again scorches the incorporeal figure.  Erista takes a moment to remind Aramil that he has a magical blade, taken from the farmhouse, strapped to his hip...

Aramil alters the words of his poem slightly, as he draws the shortsword and drops it down to Aarnr.  It lays on the floor, the blade gleaming more brightly than the dim light in the crypt would seem to permit...

Eralion drifts towards Aarnr again, ghostly hands reaching for the man, "I will feed on your might, and you will become my servant, fool!"  But Aarnr knows better now, he throws himself aside, scrabbling across the floor, and avoids the freezing touch of the creature.  And there, just within reach of his hand, lays a sword (though to Aarnr's mind it's not a real sword, it's more like a small knife for peeling fruit), the edges glowing with a soft white radiance.

Barely breaking a sweat in the chill air, Fergus brings Ozzy and Eilieen to the opening.  Ozzy is dragged and pushed through to the upper room, to be joined a moment later by Eilieen, who has a new tear in the shoulder of her recently-mended dress.

Perhaps this is the reason so many Zadasthans seem to favour tight black leather clothing?  Hard wearing, less likely to snag on things, and doesn't show dirt so easily...

The rope is dropped down again...

OOC: Ozzy and Eilieen now safely out of the hole.

Combatant         Init
Oswald Osbourne    24
Colwyn Akbar       20
Bilfro Gabbins     17
Aarnr Foultongue   16
Erista             15
Corian Barade      14
Aramil              6
Eralion             5  AC=15  (13 touch)
Fergus Andarson     4
Eilieen             3

Characters' Apparent Health
Aarnr Foultongue: Hurt
Aramil:           Good
Bilfro Gabbins:   Good
Colwyn Akbar:     Good
Corian Barade:    Good
Eilieen:          Good
Erista:           Good
Fergus Andarson:  Hurt
Oswald Osbourne:  Good

"Froggin' raaaaarhhhh !"  Aarnr's frustration is thankfully most unintelligible as the red mist proves an impediment to really coherent swearing.

Having felt the fell touch of the lich once, even someone as fearless as he prefers to avoid those clutching fingers, and the priest dives aside, fate (or perhaps just Aramil's excellent aim) placing a glowing blade within his grasp ...

Scrambling to his feet, Aarnr grips the short sword's haft in both hands and swings it recklessly at Eralion, spitting his defiance in the creature's face ...

Bilfro strikes a pose at the top of the hatch like a hero coming to the rescue.

"Never fear, Bilfro is here!" he calls out, the quickly stoops down to grab a rock near his feet.  Straightening up he strikes the pose once more and holds the rock high in triumph.

"Ben gökyüzü boya zaman, uyku güney yığıldı!"

The rock sputters, starts to flicker and then, with a resounding puff of black smoke, starts to glow, at first rather ghostly.  Bilfro pulls back his arm as if to hurl it with all his might (...) down into the trap door opening.  He then carefully brings his hand over the opening and drops the rock straight down.  AS it falls its glow begins to switch into a brighter light.  By the time it will land it will no doubt be very much brighter.

"Aarnr, don't go into the light!" calls he down into the crypt.
This message was last edited by the player at 15:54, Wed 07 Aug 2013.

As soon as both Eilieen and Ozzy are clear of the trapdoor, Fergus tosses the rope back down for Aarnr.  Fergus is all but hopping from foot to foot in restless anxiety and he can barely restrain himself from jumping into the fray, much as Aarnr had done.

OOC: If Aarnr looks in serious trouble (most likely if Eralion touches him again), Fergus will jump/slide down the rope and try to get his hands on Aramil's sword.
This message was last edited by the player at 02:33, Thu 08 Aug 2013.

Glad that the Priest managed to retrieve the sword the half-elf renews the ode with gutso.

Corian realises that his options are narrowing rapidly.  There is no sense in holding back the last of his power if he doesn't live long enough to use it...

"Taflegryn yn y tywyllwch!" he intones, and a small sphere of crackling energy springs from his fingertips and circles the room once before darting down through the trap door to strike Eralion's shade with a pulse of bluish light and a small shower of sparks...

Staring at the trap door, not the down one, but the up one, Colwyn is also assessing his options.

The overhang on each level means that the only way out of this deathtrap is the rope.  And the rope will not support all of them at once, or if it will, he has no way to be sure that the ring he tied it too won't pull out of the wall with that much weight on it.

That many people would make it difficult to climb anyway.  And he has a feeling that the ghost can probably fly faster than he can climb an erratically swaying rope.

And somehow, with every passing heartbeat, the distance up to ground level seems to double.

So Colwyn's trapped down here, at the bottom of the world, with the ghost of a dead wizard, who doesn't seem the sort to let a group of intruders escape his lair.  The only appropriate thing to say seems to be, "Bugger!"  The rogue sidles quietly towards the bedchamber.  Perhaps there's a hidden door or something that Bilfro missed?

Ozzy and Eilieen sprawl on the floor of the chamber, panting and gasping for breath (though not for the reason that most Zadasthans usually find themselves in this position).    Aramil stands nearby, still reciting his poem to inspire courage in his companions...

Moving away from the trap door, where he can do nothing but get in the way anyway, Colwyn heads for the bedchamber and starts searching the room...

A quick assessment of the situation apparently leads Bilfro to the conclusion that the crypt is too dark.  He picks up a pebble which, with much posturing, gesturing and chanting, starts to shine like a torch.  Then he drops it...  The light brightens, then dims (but not entirely) as it falls into the pit.

Eralion whirls about as the new source of illumination lands nearby, "You dare?".  And Aarnr seizes the opportunity to swing Aramil's enchanted blade at the ghostly creature. 

Eralion screams... and tattered shreds of shadow are pulled from the creature to boil off the edges of the weapon.  And an instant later a bolt of energy, launched by Corian, strikes the foul thing, an provokes another shriek.

Erista laughs as the savage priest manages to harm the undead mage at last, and she sends another beam of light burning into the dark form.  The effect this time is somewhat different.  Eralion stops where he is, and seems to... unravel...  Dark streamers flow from the shadow thing, fading into nothingness as they spread further...

And from his vantage point, where he watches to see if Aarnr needs assistance, Fergus sees Eralion fade away into nothingness, and hears a voice whisper, "Freed, at last... "

In the sudden stillness all light grows brighter, and the mist and shadows in the crypt are driven back...

At the words of the dark figure below, "You dare?", Bilfro bravely retorts with an emphatic "Eek!" and scrambles back from the trap door.  He stops about halfway between the trap door and the chamber, where he looks about wildly.

"Fighting bad, fighting bad!  People get hurt, usually me!"

He starts to run in a small circle, muttering to himself, oblivious about any changes in light or noise.
This message was last edited by the player at 11:37, Sun 11 Aug 2013.

"Farewell, Eralion." Corian murmurs, "You were not so mighty as you imagined."

Then louder, "He's gone!  Aarnr, is the staff intact?"

Fergus straightens slowly, bunched muscles in his arms and shoulders visibly relaxing as his grip on the rope eases and the tension bleeds away.  Looking around at his colleagues and friends, Fergus smiles broadly and declares, "We did a good thing."

Leaning back to the trapdoor, Fergus calls down, "Are you right down there, Aarnr?  I'll be down in just a...soon."

Reassured that the most dangerous thing in the crypt is almost certainly Aarnr, Fergus goes to help Eilieen and Ozzy back to their feet.

"Oh," Eilieen gasps, brushing hair from her face as she watches Eralion fade away.  "Oh, oh, well done!"  Gripping Fergus' hand, she allows herself to be hauled to her feet.  "Indeed, Fergus, a great thing!"  A quick hug for the farmer, then another for Ozzy.  She'd hug Aarnr, despite the smell, but he's down below.

Peering down again, she notes the change in the crypt's atmosphere.  "I'll warrent it's safe enough for us to enter as well.  There is some strength left to me for healing - I should assist Aarnr."

There comes a brief pause.  "And my plan appears to have worked," the priestess smugly states.

Aarnr takes the opportunity to scream triumphantly as the shadow-lich unravels before him, shaking the blade at Eralion for good measure.  Whirling, the priest looks around the darkened chamber for the next foe ...

... then his shoulders slump and Aarnr looks as tired and sore as you've ever known him as the red-mist of battle fades away.  But despite this and the questions flung his way by Fergus and Corian, there is one more thing he must do.

"Minstr ... Aramil !  Thou are a froggin' clever pumpion !" it seems meant as a compliment.  "Have thou named this gleepin' pigsticker ?"

He holds up the short sword.  "If not ... in Bowbe's name I call thee Shadowrender !"  Aarnr's eyes rise once more to the Half-Elf.  "Thou should bear the blade proudly."

"Though the kill is thine, thou fearful-chantin' runt," he reluctantly congratulates Erista whose spell was the end of Eralion.

"I am ... but weary," the priest reassures Fergus, so weary in fact that he has but little energy to swear as inventively as is his wont.  "Give this to Aramil."  He reverses his grip, clutching the blade near the point so that his friend can grab the pommel.

And finally he gets around to Corian's question ... though in truth any word that has 'tact' in it gets short shrift around the barbarian.  "How do I froggin' know ?!!  Froggin' useless stick !"

With ill grace Aarnr tiredly casts about the chamber looking for the staff, passing it up to their patron whether it be in once piece or many, hoping at the least to shut the puttuck up.

Corian takes the staff, and lifts it gently out of the pit.  "Not broken!" he exclaims triumphantly, "It's not broken!  Eralion's staff and journals are mine!"  He looks around him, beaming,"My thanks to all of you.  I have what I came here for.  All else of value in this place is yours, to apportion as you will among yourselves."

Colwyn steps through the door from the bedchamber.  "Was somebody sayin' as there's bein' summat ter divvy up?"  He takes a quick look down into the hole and grins, "Aarnr, mate, yer's still bein' on yer feet.!  I were fair certain as that lich bugger, or whatever it were bein', would do fer yer, good an' proper.  I's glad I were bein' wrong, jus' fer once."

"I's not supposin' yer's found any scratch down there, 'as yer?"

No, seems having the staff won't shut the puttock up, but at least he's a man of his word.

"I claim this froggin' dump in the name of my father, Orgothan the Swift !" Aarnr proclaims in light of Corian's gift.  "Thou will ensure the maps are amended ..."

Colwyn's question almost catches the priest out, but he stops himself just in time to avoid another telling off from Eilieen.  "Thou needs check all for traps, thou toad-wart !!" he reminds the rogue, nodding with smug satisfaction to the priestess, "Get thy paunchy breeched rear down here !"

"Where is the other gleepin' minstrel ?" he demands, looking up through the trapdoor for Ozzie. "Do thou yet live ?  We two survived the Lich's fell touch and are brothers of the blood now !"

"Well-said, Aarnr," Eilieen agrees, sliding down the rope to the floor.  "Colwyn shall seek out any traps, and we shall then find what remains, thanks to the heroics of all those involved!"  Not really her - she accomplished somewhere between zero and nothing during the last battle, and knows it.  But what does it matter?  "Congratulations, Corian - it is good to see you well-satisfied!  One hopes there is sufficient for the rest of us, as well!"

Coin means comfort, coin means better clothing, and coin, yes, means helping more people.  Eilieen won't turn it aside, to be sure.

She smothers a giggle at the idea of Ozzy and Aarnr being brothers, and wonders how the small minstrel will take the idea.  Certainly Aarnr isn't going to let go of it.

"Frogging right it is, you oversized badger-haired lout!" Erista exults, when Aarnr, however reluctantly, acknowledges that she almost single-handedly - indeed, single-fingeredly - defeated the undead wizard.

Then she claps a hand over her own mouth and looks up through the top trapdoor.  "Sorry, mum."

Climbing down the rope, she walks up to Aarnr and looks up at the minor giant.  "And we're supposed to share the loot," she points out.  "If all it turns out to be is the pile of rubble, then your dad can't have all of it.  If we find other stuff, though, 'salright with me if that's your claim."

"Is it gone?  Is it no more?  Is it finished?  Is it?  Is it?" ask Bilfro with dignified near panic in his voice.  In case it is not the case he plucks up another pebble and clenches it until one would expect stone-juice to seep from it.  Not really, since he lacks the strength; he barely have enough strength to break a sweat, let alone a rock.

"Is it no more?"

"Yeah, it is." Fergus replies simply.

Having accepted a hug from Eilieen and Shadowrender from Aarnr (and passed the latter on to Aramil), Fergus finds himself back at the trapdoor.

He had intended to climb down to check on Aarnr but the big cleric seems hearty enough, if a little tired, and the crypt below is rapidly becoming crowded with other curious types.  So Fergus remains above, in case anyone else needs a lift out.

He is rather more relaxed about the prospect now, though.  Rather than hovering anxiously, rope in hand, Fergus sits next to the rope with his legs dangling through the trap.

Colwyn descends the rope and comes to rest atop the plinth, and astride the ornate coffin which rests there.  His choice of location is a simple matter of logic.  The plinth, and the coffin, have already been jostled by others, and Eilieen herself had stood where he is now.

Any traps would have been long-since triggered.

Even so, he is careful not to disturb the ornate sarcophagus as he drops to the floor, though it does draw a comment from him, "I knowed wizards was all weird.  Fancy bone box like that, an' 'e were leavin' 'is corpse ter rot on top of the thing."  A shrug, and a shake of the head, "Suppose 'e wasn't wantin' ter use it an' filthy it up, on account of 'ow 'e weren't plannin' ter stay in it.  Or maybe that were what 'e were wantin' people ter think, an it's bein' full of traps."

The rogue spends a few minutes studying the coffin, walking around the plinth and examining the designs carved on both it and the coffin, all while muttering under his breath, "Three pronged circle, twice..."  "Two birds flyin'..."  "Some weird lookin' fish..."  "Sorry mate." (this latter as he treads on Eralion's ribs and crushes them to powder under his heel).

Finally, just as Aarnr looks as though he might be losing patience... er... losing more patience, Colwyn steps back, "Coffin's lookin' safe."  And he turns away, to look around the rest of the room.

In the chamber above, Corian is cradling the staff in his arms, gently and with a certain amount of obvious trepidation, like a young man about to kiss his first girl, and worried that her father might enter the room at any instant...

Ozzy sits shivering with his back to the wall and his knees pulled up to his chest. He runs at his shoulder, which feels frostbitten, and looks up when the loud barbarian talks. " B-b-b-brothers?" he chatters unquestioningly, unsure if he had heard right. Regardless, this modicum of respect from the big man warmed his heart. " Brothers! Sh-sh-sh-sure! That'd be g-g-g-great!" he says, grinning happily through the freezing pain in his shoulder.