<Action continues here.>

Albricht found the exploration aspect of the delve to be both a bit troubling as well as fascinating. His weathered whiskered seemed to twitch oddly, and he frequently spoke to himself in broken bits of Old Dwarfspeak punctuated by a significant smattering of Hrrrumphs and Bahs...

Just when it seemed his oddities might well consume him... he stopped, and peered upon the largest accumulation of water he might well have ever seen. Eons ago, as a young rock-chewer, he thought perhaps he could remember above ground streams and what he'd come to think of as lakes though in reality they were nothing more than large ponds. Nevertheless, that was before the great fires, a time lost to history.

A few tears leaked from the wrinkled corners of his eyes.

"It's beautiful lads. I told ya, just as I was told. Water's down, ever and always down. This proves I was right, and the ancient histories, right as well!"

It was all he could do to constrain himself.

Where's there's water there's bound to be wine," says Silverglade. "Let's rest up and spend some of our money now that we've found something approaching civilisation."

While he says this, he keeps an eye on the ominous glow across the water, trying to make out what it is.

Voran claps happily at the sight of the water. "Where there's water, there's life! Ah, very, very good."

Roak takes all this in impassively. "Where there's buildings, there's gotta be a tavern. Let's go to the buildings, folks, and see if we can find an inn."

Elboc takes in their surroundings.  “Unless the water is poisonous, which is always a possibility.  Let’s not go making any assumptions we might regret.”
This message was last edited by the player at 04:53, Thu 10 May 2018.

"I've got a sand ritual that'll purify most water," Albricht stated confidently. "But the fact that there's a city here probably means it's good."

The old water-finder began shuffling to the south, in the direction of the buildings, his gaze continued to wander over to the lake.

There was a look of childlike fascination on Vsaati's face as they emerged into the giant cavern and spied the city lying on the shores of the fabled underground lake.  Water is always down Albricht was fond of saying, and so it was.  The angry red glow across the waters gave her pause, and the burglar quickly assumed that danger lay in that direction, whether natural or otherwise.  So her attention shifted to the city and all the sights and smells it would contain, and familiarity.  Even with no sun overhead, a city was a city.  A grin stole across her face as she thought of traipsing down back alleys or leaping lightly from roof to roof.  It would be good to back amongst civilization and all its lures.

"I'm with Roak," she said at last, turning back to face her companions with a fierce grin. "Let's go find a tavern!"

As the party passes southwest, toward the columned street, they notice that the building directly to the south of the entrance to this cavern appears to be a fortified stronghold.  Further examination shows the face of a stern, bearded human male in relief on the double doors, covered in gold.  Lightning bolts adorn the twin towers inside the outer wall, and a couple of men in blue tabards and wearing gold masks that depict the same stern-faced human male patrol on top of the walls.  This seems to be where the Brotherhood of Gorm spends their time when not in the city above.

Across the street, which is about 40 feet across, between the columns, lies a low building that has a few, low, flickering lights showing out from windows in side.  Beyond that building is another, also on the west side of the street, and if it has any windows, no lights shine from them.  More buildings can be dimly seen in the relative darkness of the cavern, with lit lamps only occasionally visible on the columns lining the street.  Even the sharp eyes of the elves in the party can only get a bit more detail.

The glow in the distance, even to Silverglade, is still just a dimly-seen red shape.

The party presses on, looking for anything resembling an inn or tavern.

Sherborne follows along with no particular agenda at this point except perhaps making sure the water is good.  He looks around and tries to see if anyone is around and taking notice of them.

In another couple of hundred feet, the party finds themselves at a cross street, which is also columned.  One of the buildings off to the right (west) appears to have people talking, laughing, and having a good time in it.  It also seems to have more lights than the others.  Directly ahead and to the left sits a building with a statue of a laughing child holding a wand and a handful of coins atop it.

Directly ahead and to the right squats a heavy building, apparently slightly more recently built than the rest, in a different style, and more crudely made.  Three people wearing masks of people whose faces are twisted in pain and horror stand out front, maces at their belts.  They seem to be watching everyone, and the party in particular.

Silverglade suggests heading to the happier building.

Roak looks at the twisted-faced folks and then nods. "Right. Everyone just be serious while we pass the unhappy crew."

Voran eyes the new building. "This is the new cult we were warned about. Yes, let's head for the happier building, but be wary."

As they pass by, Elboc winks at one of the unhappy mask wearers.

A sudden and disturbing thought occurred to Albricht as they proceeded into the city...

A tavernful of those mud-brained, stoneless, dream-sniffers... could it be so?

At least, perhaps, he might be able to finish the game he'd started in the gambling den up in the pyramid above...

The thought cause a rare smile to spread the sun-bleached whiskers.

Sherborne continues with the group still keeping a wary eye.

Vsaati fell in line with the rest, also agreeing with the goal of the happy gathering rather than the building fronted by the brooding mask wearers.

The party approaches the more well-lit building, the sounds of laughter and conversation from inside becoming steadily louder.  Upon entering, the size of the building is striking, especially by comparison the the size of the rooms in the pyramid above.  The ground floor of the building seems to be one large, open space.  What is likely a couple of hundred Cynidiceans stand around talking, lay on chairs or cushions, speak animatedly, consume liquids, smoke a variety of substances, dance alone, dance in groups, and generally seem to be having a great time.  Further examination, however, shows that a significant number of the masked people present are doing thing which seem to have little to do with where they actually are at the moment, and a good number of them are having conversations with empty air.

There are several bartenders scattered throughout the place, and they seem to be at least marginally more lucid than most of the rest.

One woman near the doors turns as the group enters and fastens her gaze on Silverglade.  "Aram!  There you are!  You simply must come and meet my friends!"  With that she moves toward the elf and attempts to take him by he hand and pull him back to a small group that she was standing near.

Silverglade is too arrogant to consider that the woman couldn't know him, and instead assumes that she intends to introduce him to the great and good of Cynidicean society, as befits his station. He allows her to pull him away.

Roak is a far more suspicious being. He discreetly follows Silverglade through the crowd, keeping an eye on the elf.

”They must be either ghosts, or lunatics,” Elboc wonders aloud under his breath.  “I hope we don’t have to fight our way out of this... there are far too many of them.”

He smiles and tries to look friendly, which for him is no simple task.

The first member of the group that Silverglade is pulled toward cocks its head from side to side like a bird, but is wearing a frog mask.

The second graciously greets Silverglade, holding out a hairy-backed hand daintily.  "Oh, Aram!  It's so good to finally meet you!" comes an obviously male voice in a high falsetto.

A third states, somewhat sulkily, "I thought there was going to be more cake."

The others seem to take no notice of Silverglade.

Sherborne finds part of this amusing but tries to remain vigilant and alert in the background as this seems like it could go south at any time.

Silverglade seats himself. "So tell me," has says to the new group while looking around, "when are we going to move to more - luxurious - surroundings?"
This message was last edited by the player at 20:52, Tue 15 May 2018.

Albricht groaned, his fear confirmed. "Well, this oughta be interesting..."

Sighing, the old dwarf looked around the room and tried to locate anyone dicing or otherwise preparing to lose their coin.

"I've heard that Zargon provides very luxurious delights," the one in the frog mask replies, continuing to look about quickly, like a bird.

"Oh, that does sound like fun!" the one who brought Silverglade to this group declares, clapping her hands for joy.

"No, no, his followers are such brutes," the high falsetto voice objects.

The grumpy one simply says, "Wilbur."
This message was last edited by the GM at 14:24, Thu 17 May 2018.

"Tell me more of Zargon's luxurious delights," says Silverglade. The potential for loot puts a gleam in his eyes.

Vsaati decided to go in search of a drink - some sort of wine preferably, but in truth almost anything alcoholic would do.  She'd had a few rough spots recently, between charming foxes, acid baths and shape-shifters.  A little calm-me-down seemed more than called for.

"Anyone else for a glass?" she asked the others over her shoulder, before threading her way off through the strangely distracted crowd of masks.

"Oh, they're said to be wonderful!" the frog-masked one declares, suddenly more animated than before.  "They are only for the faithful, mostly, but on high holy days some are distributed to the rest of the people."  At this, the remainder of the small group - except for the grumpy one - turn to listen.  "I've heard from those who have taken the delights on and off since I was very small.  They're simply delicious."

"That sounds simply wonderful," says Silverglade as he stands back up. "Let's go see Zargon now. And I'm sure you wouldn't mind if my friends came with us, would you?"

Roak listens to all this quietly, standing nearby trying to look unobtrusive as only a halfling can.

Voran, meanwhile, heads to the free-standing bar and waves at a bartender.

"Guhhh... eh? Has yer skull-filler been melted while we weren't paying attention? We just got here Silverglade... Let's get something chewy in our stomachs and our whistles sufficiently whetted... and maybe some coin won, perhaps we get our weapons sharpened, some bolts purchased... and THEN let's go with your friends to kick the anthill?" Albricht muttered to the elf.

"Yes, perhaps wait some moments or more.  Who knows what we might find out in a place like this." Sherborne nods at the dwarf and smirks at his mutterings.
This message had punctuation tweaked by the player at 00:56, Fri 18 May 2018.

“Let me take a wild guess: Sargon’s delights cost money.  Lots of it.  Did I guess right?  Do I get a prize?”

The old water-finder stumped over to a table and sat down wearily. "Go ahead without me if you must, I'm going to rest my bones a bit."

He looked around for some bar wench to summon, and though no stranger to establishments such as these, he did feel a bit out of his element. Albricht's sociability was intermittent and infrequent. He'd spent entire decades wandering the sandy sea and wastes of the desert in search for water before returning to any semblance of civilization. Then again, there were times when he'd essentially taken up residence at a gambling table (more of a large, polished slab of petrified wood from the old days when forests covered this forsaken land) causing even the 'regulars' to think he'd put down roots.

The aged eyes scanned the setting, seeking out any other dwarves or folks without silly masks. He watched what they ate and drank and then, once he was able to locate someone to take his order, requested that which the more sane of the patrons were consuming...

"... and a pitcher of cold water please." he added.

He motioned to his companions to join him - or not - and then pulled out the cards and dice and other gambling paraphernalia he'd managed to surreptitiously acquire in the dusty halls far above them.

The frog-masked individual replies to Silverglade, "Oh, I don't think they're handing them out right now, but you're welcome to go ask.  If you do, would you let me know?  They're terribly grumpy most of the time, and I'd like to be able to set up some wagers on your survival."  The others in the small group that have shown any level of attention for the conversation slowly nod at this.

A bartender wearing a mask of a somewhat bored woman's face asks Elder Voran what he'd like to drink and swiftly brings a cup of moderately-good wine, regardless of what the cleric actually ordered.  He asks a single silver piece for the drink.

Albricht's drink comes, accompanied by a dripping pitcher.  The pitcher is revealed, on further inspection, to contain somewhat weak beer, and to not be particularly cold.  The server seems to forget about payment and wanders off somewhat vaguely.

The dwarf bit off a spicy dwarven retort. "I think I might rather be back in the pyramid," he muttered into his whiskers, for this wasn't at all what he'd been envisioning when he lobbied to make this trip to the Underground City.

"Tell us frog-man," the dwarf inquired of the masked man, "Is this the only tavern in the city?"

His ears wiggled upon hearing the word 'wager'. The gears began cranking inside the sun-baked cranium. "There's some possibility there Silverglade... I could probably organize the betting if you're up to the challenge!" He said this barely masking his excitement at the prospect of betting on another elf's survival.

The frog-masked man looks somewhat vaguely in Albricht's direction.  After an uncomfortable pause, he says, "At the moment.  Sometimes there is another drinking house, but this is the only one today."  At that, the man wanders slowly toward the other bar and the other bartender.

In the lull, a woman bursts through the front doors, calling out, "Help! They've got Timmy!" and promptly collapses.  No one seems to take any notice of this.

“Timmy?  Did you say Timmy?  Oh no, not Timmy!  Summon all the dragons and greater devils in the realm, lest one hair on his sacred head be harmed!”

Elboc has a sip of water.

“Oh very well, tell us who is this Timmy.”

Voran looks at the cup and smiles politely. He fishes out a gold coin and hands it to the bartender. He then turns, takes a sip of the wine, and surveys the people around him.

Roak, meanwhile, moves up to the woman who has collapsed by the door. He bends down and checks to see if she is still conscious.

Talk of possibly dying has cooled Silverglade's interest in the conversation. "If you'll excuse me," he says, "I'll go help save Timmy."

Not having anything better to do Sherborne thinks, he wanders over to the collapsed woman to see if she is still alive at least.

Sherborne and Roak both find that the woman has a heavy bruise spreading on her left temple, but does seem to be breathing.  Otherwise, she appears to be quite unconscious.

One or two of the other patrons seem to have noticed, but most pay her no mind.  None of them approach.

Having finally found someone who was willing to sell her a glass of wine, Vsaati sipped it carefully as she gracefully swooped through the crowd and returned to where a good number of the group were paying attention to a woman stretched out on the floor.

"What's all this, then?" she asked, wondering what was going on.  "Someone in distress?"

Voran sees this as well and heads over. He tries to revive the unconscious woman, using his skill in chirurgery.

With a moment's work, Elder Voran sees the woman's eyes flutter a bit, and then come fully open.  "Mandelin?  Is that you?" is what she manages to get out, still groggy and not quite aware of where she happens to be.
This message was last edited by the GM at 00:34, Thu 24 May 2018.

Elboc begins humming ‘Mandolin Rain.’  Even though it makes no sense that he would be familiar with this song, and even though nobody else could recognize it.

Okay, he doesn’t hum ‘Mandolin Rain.’  But he does hum something.

Voran shakes his head. "No, but that is not important. Who has Timmy?"

"The raiders in the mushroom farms have Timmy!" she calls out, having come a bit more to her senses, "They came out of the fissures in the cavern walls and attacked us.  A couple of the men were hurt, and they took Timmy with them as they left!"  She seems to be in a panic, but also seems to have no idea what to do.

"Hrrrumph!"

At this point Albricht couldn't tell if Timmy was the figment or the Mushroom Raiders were the figment. These addle-brained sots were causing the old dwarf's teeth to itch.

"Is this Timmy your son? How far to the Mushroom place?" Albricht called from his seat across the room.

“Are we getting paid to rescue dear Timothy, or are we to do this out of the goodness of our hearts?”

Silverglade leaves his new "friends" and joins the group near the ranting woman. "Roughly how rich is Timmy?" he asks her.

Roak shoots Silverglade a look. "Or, more precisely, are they likely going to ask for a ransom for him? Either way, tell us which way they went."

The woman is even more confused, due to the rapid number of questions presented to her.  She grasps onto a request for direction, however, "The mushroom farm!  To the north!" and so saying, she rises and makes as if to bring people with her out the door of the building

"Bah!" Albricht snorted.

"Sunshine. This whole lot needs a good old-fashioned, skin-blistering, sunbath..."

Shrugging his weary shoulders, the dwarf called out to anyone coherent enough to answer, "Where's the store around here anyway?"

"Might as well get some provisions before we trudge off on this fool's errand!"

Voran looks grimly at Albricht. "We will do no such thing. There is a life at stake. Come, Albricht, I thought dwarves were always ready for an opportunity to save the day?"

"Not convinced. Maybe her slipper was named 'Timmy' and she lost that."

Albricht continued to lounge back in his seat, purposely staring in the opposite direction, though the Elder might note that his whiskers were twitching somewhat.

"Oh alright! Hrrrumph!" The oldster got to his feet, bones creaking more than his worn out gear. "Let's go find her slipper..."

There was quite a bit of indelicate grumbling to follow.

Roak tries not to laugh too loudly as he follows the recalcitrant dwarf out the door...

The woman leads the group, and no small number of others from the building, back out the way the party entered the city, stopping when the entrance to the pyramid is just in sight, and turning to the left (west).  A few hundred feet later, fields of fungi and lichens come into view, with a small number of masked people huddling together on one side, crouching down to avoid being see from within.

As they walk, Voran says, "I am known as Voran, Elder of Law. What was your name? And tell me more about what happened."

Vsaati grumbled as she finished her glass of wine in a hurry, then hustled after the rest to find out about this lost boy.  The walk through the streets, even though they'd come through the way before, still amazed her.  How could people live their whole lives with no sky above?  She couldn't imagine staying here forever.

She kept her eyes on the huddled group that shied away from them.  If it wasn't their own group of topsiders that was frightening them, she wanted to know from where the threat might be coming.

The woman cocks her masked face to the side, birdlike, as Elder Voran asks his question.  "I am Andrephina, and Timmy is my cousin's son," she begins.  "We were in the garden, preparing to enjoy some of the dream mushrooms that have crept in among the food varieties when we were suddenly being attacked.  The creatures that did the attacking were horrid and ugly and we fled, but not before some of us, including Timmy, were taken, and some of us were hurt.  One of this group ahead saw the creatures retreating into some fissures in the cavern wall, just to the north."
This message was last edited by the GM at 14:23, Fri 01 June 2018.

Roak looks at the mushroom field suspiciously and asks Andrephina, "So...are there any mushrooms we want to avoid? We don't want to become all dreamy as we go chase the beings that took Timmy."

Albricht patted the nearly empty quarrel pouch and sighed.

"Slipper's probably in there then," he gestured with a flared nostril and subsequent nose twitch in the direction of the fissure. "C'mon then lads, let's go have a look."

The dwarf shuffled toward the indicated spot with his crossbow cocked... just in case the slipper monster might decide to defend its prize.

Sherborne follows Albricht as extra cover to see what is what.

"The dream mushrooms are small and purple.  You should know this." comes the woman's reply.

Albricht moves forward through the tangle of fungi and lichens, soon seeing the marks of a scuffle, and the fairly obvious tracks of several large-ish beings.  The tracks come from the fissures in the north wall, then there is the scuffle, then something small is dragged, and the tracks continue back into the fissures.

Voran moves up behind Albricht. "Albricht! What do you see?" he says quietly.

“Let’s look on the bright side,” Elboc mutters.  “The sooner we rescue dear Timothy, the sooner we can roast him and eat him ourselves.”

As they moved through the undergrowth of lichens and fungi Vsaati let a dagger drop into one hand.  She was nervous although she couldn't say why, other than a vague uncertainty of what they were up against.  But she crept along nonetheless, wary eyes darting this way and that until she stood near Albright and Voran.  She stared into the fissure as she awaited the dwarf's response.

The old dwarf shuffled back a few paces to report. "Well..." Albricht scratched at his sun-bleached whiskers as he interpreted the situation and the evidence left behind. "I surmise this might be something more than a lost slipper after all..."

He gestured with his crossbow in the direction of the fissures. "There's a few of'em, and they might be fairly big. The question is, do we go in after'em or do we try to draw them out?"

After a bit more thought. "I'd say we go in after them. We'd best do it quietly though, and watch out for traps or sentries..."

OOC: Albricht will use his dwarvenly super powers to discern anything unusual about the fissures as they enter in...

While having spent most of his life in the desert, Albricht's dwarven ancestry kicks into high gear and leaves him with the sense that these fissures continue back and down for some great distance, with breathable air and a sense of moisture overlayed.  There is the faint sense of a musk that he can't quite identify, but seems likely to be the raiders.

The Cynidicean woman who alerted the group to the attack seems to have mentally wandered off, as her people are so often wont to do, and is cheerfully picking fungi and dropping them into a previously discarded basket.

Silverglade tries to pierce the dark with his elvish vision and hear any sounds from within the fissures.

Albricht relayed what his old dwarven instincts seemed to tellhim about the fissures. "And..." he said, ears twitching, "I believe there may be more water to be discovered!"

"Let's be about it then lads!" When Silverglade was finished gazing, the old dwarf led them forward into the right-most fissure.

Roak mutters something under his breath and follows Albricht in, his sword out.

Voran watches the woman wander, puzzled by her mental lapse, but then follows the others in, one of the last in line.

Silverglade attempts to listen, but the clamor made by his companions foul the attempt.

Albricht and Elder Voran, entering the right-most fissure, find that they are reduced to single-file travel for about 15 feet, then the fissure opens out into a very rough, natural-looking chamber, about 15' side-to-side, and 35 feet front to back.  The chamber has exits to the left and right at its other end.  Laying on the floor in the middle of the chamber is a single child's shoe.

Vsaati joins the explorers and falls into line at the fissure.

Sherborne hangs back from the group and watches the back to see if anyone is following them.

"Hrrrumph!"

Ah, that most useful and adaptive of all dwarven expressions. Entire conversations can be communicated between a twain of the stout folk in as little as one exchange.

"I was right again! Don't act surprised. Appears we've found the slipper! Let's get back to town..." Albricht shuffled over to fetch the shoe.

At the exact moment that the aged dwarf stoops to pick up the shoe, a 7 foot long spider drops form the ceiling onto his back, catching him completely by surprise and biting him.  The thing is bulky looking, and quite hairy.

07:10, Today: Dungeon Master rolled 18 using 1d20.  Attack Roll.
07:11, Today: Dungeon Master rolled 1 using 1d8.  Damage Roll.

07:14, Today: Dungeon Master rolled 4 using 1d6.  Monster's Initiative.
07:14, Today: Dungeon Master rolled 5 using 1d6.  Party's Initiative.


<Albricht, I'm going to need a Save vs. Poison from you before we enter the next combat segment. The PCs will have the initiative after that, but I need to know the result of the save before anyone acts.>

"Hrrru-uhhnnnm-thhhhhh..."

Down he went under a mass of legs, fangs, and spines. The oldster's once stout frame crumpled beneath the behemoth's weight, and his rusty old chainmail was no match for the fangs which impaled him easily.

Saving Throw vs Poison: Albricht Burghammer rolled 3

The ancient dwarf struggles from under the huge spider, and upon rising begins to shuffle his feet and wiggle his hips, in what looks like it might be a dance of some sort.  He twitches and flails, as if driven by something internal; a something that he knows to have come from the poison coursing through him.

So strange is this dance, that all who view it feel themselves assaulted by the need to join him in this spastic activity.

<Everyone else needs to make a Save vs. Spells (this is a magical effect, so if you have bonuses, use them) or suffer a -4 to Hit as you begin to dance, much like Albricht will, for the next several turns.  This will impair you, but not necessarily take you out of the fight.  It's your turn, but the result of the save will have an effect on your actions.>

Lanliss sees the dance and finds himself beginning to move in sync with Albricht, fouling his charge and attack.

07:23, Today: Lanliss rolled 3 using 1d20.  Save vs. Spell.
07:24, Today: Lanliss rolled 2 using 1d20.  Attack Roll.

Sherborne joins the funkytown.

09:50, Today: Sherborne rolled 11 using 1d20.  Save vs. Spell. needed 12.

12:36, Today: Elboc Ice Eyes rolled 17 using 1d20.  Save vs spells.

Voran blinks. "But...I don't dance. I barely walk. The only thing about me is the way I talk."

For once, his lack of rhythm saved him...


15:07, Today: Elder Voran rolled 21 using 1d20+1.  Save vs. Spells.

Roak starts dancing merrily for a moment, then starts cursing vociferously, which creates a comical scene of a halfling dancing a merry jig while red-faced and cursing...


15:13, Today: Roak The Quick rolled 6 using 1d20-1.  Save vs. Spells.

Silverglade is able to resist the urges of the dance, but he performs a little shimmy anyway as he moves up to attack the spider.

22:44, Today: Silverglade rolled 7 using 1d8+2. Damage (sword +1).
22:43, Today: Silverglade rolled 11 using 1d20+2. To hit (sword +1).
22:42, Today: Silverglade rolled 15 using 1d20. Save v spells.

Vsaati wondered if everyone loved her, now that she could dance.

The same spastic jerking took control of the burglar as she tried to fire a sling stone at the giant hairy arachnid.  She managed to get the sling whirling but the uncontrollable disjointed movements in her limbs foiled the attempt before it began, as the sling lost speed and the stone slipped out of the pocket to tumble harmlessly to the floor at her feet.


OOC:

20:46, Today: Vsaati rolled 0 using 1d20-1.  Attack spider w/sling.  Wow...I mean, wow!  Don't know as I've ever rolled a 0 before.

<Sherborne, Elboc, and Roak, although you have failed your saves, you can still attack at -4 to Hit.>

Silverglade and Vsaati's attacks go wide, one having resisted the urge to dance, and the other being firmly within the grip of the eldritch demand to move her hips.
This message was last edited by the GM at 14:19, Fri 08 June 2018.

Sherborne attempts to swing but he's just to good at funk.

18:02, Today: Sherborne rolled 8 using 1d20-2.  Attack on spider (-4 +2).

Roak, the dancing-angry halfling, dances his way up to the spider and tries to hit it...

I hit AC 7 for 5 hp.
20:19, Today: Roak The Quick rolled 5 using 1d8+1.  Damage.
20:19, Today: Roak The Quick rolled 10 using 1d20-2.  Dancing attack.

Voran, who is feeling a bit more stable as a result of his lack of rhythm, flings a sling-stone at the spider...

Also hits AC 7 for 2 hp.

20:20, Today: Elder Voran rolled 2 using 1d4+1.  Damage.
20:20, Today: Elder Voran rolled 12 using 1d20+1.  Slingstone on spider.

<Elboc and Albricht, I'm still waiting for attacks from you two.>

The ancient dwarf's body had not moved like this for several centuries outside of the well-practiced and secret steps of the Burghammer Battle Lambada (BBL¹). A stupid grin split the sun-bleached whiskers, faded blue eyes overly widened pushed folds of wrinkles aside, and the popping and cracking of arthritic joints added their own rhythm to the beat to which the party gyrated.

Albricht's crossbow was on the cavern floor beneath the spider. Apparently it wasn't nearly as good of a dance partner as his magic mace which, oddly or not, he was caressing and swinging about like he had that boulder-bosomed lass all those years and years and years and years and years and years and YEARS ago!


Mace Attack: Albricht Burghammer rolled 4

¹ It's a s-e-c-r-e-t, I can't even tell you anythingabout it...

Elboc casts Magic Missile.

14:12, Today: Elboc Ice Eyes rolled 2 using 1d6+1.  Magic missile.

Elboc's arrow of magical force is the first damage done to the giant arachnid, and not much at that.

The huge hairy thing leaps to bite Elder Voran, doing scant physical damage, but injecting its venom into the cleric all the same.

16:35, Today: Dungeon Master rolled 14 using 1d20.  Attack Roll.
16:35, Today: Dungeon Master rolled 1 using 1d8.  Damage Roll.

16:36, Today: Dungeon Master rolled 5 using 1d6.  Party's Initiative.
16:35, Today: Dungeon Master rolled 1 using 1d6.  Monster's Initiative.

<I'm going to need a Save vs. Poison from Elder Voran, and it's the party's turn again.  Anyone who is currently dancing will continue to do so and receive the -4 penalty on To Hit rolls.  If Elder Voran fails his save, he'll begin dancing as well, but no one else will be forced to just by viewing him, unless they get bitten and fail their save too.>

Whatever else one may say of Voran, he is made of stern and non-groovy stuff, as he resists the spider's poison. He pulls out his mace and tries to hit the beast, unsuccessfully...

Good new: Voran made his saving throw. Bad news: he misses with his mace attack, hitting AC 8 (1 hp damage if that somehow miraculously hits).

22:18, Today: Elder Voran rolled 1 using 1d6 with rolls of 1.  Damage.
22:17, Today: Elder Voran rolled 11 using 1d20 with rolls of 11.  Attack.
22:16, Today: Elder Voran rolled 13 using 1d20 with rolls of 13.  Save vs. poison.

Roak, dancing merrily, tries and fails to hit the spider.

Clear miss.
22:19, Today: Roak The Quick rolled 4 using 1d20-2 with rolls of 6.  Dancing attack.

Sherborne swings hard at the spider in spite of his bouncing around.

20:47, Today: Sherborne rolled 7 using 1d6+2.  damage.
20:44, Today: Sherborne rolled 17 using 1d20-2.  Attack on spider (-4 +2).

Sherborne's blow lands hard, injuring the spider significantly, and Lanliss darts in to finish it off.

07:25, Today: Lanliss rolled 15 using 1d20+2.  Attack Roll.
07:25, Today: Lanliss rolled 9 using 1d8+4.  Damage Roll.

It takes over half an hour before the frantic muscle spasms stop, the members of the party on the verge of exhaustion from their violent wriggling and thrashing.

For a long moment Albricht's chest seemed to have stopped moving as the effects of the poison wore off and left him dangerously close to the afterlife. Random twitches of nerves fired off. Until eventually his body, mind and heart seemed to reset and resync in such a powerfully dwarven fashion...

"AAAAAAHHHHCHOOOOOOO!"

It was taught amongst the most pious of dwarven sages that sneezing was a gift from the Hammer-Wielder Himself. Dwarves prided themselves on their sneezing and offered generous compliments when they observed others' noteworthy efforts. The Burghammers had even been top contenders in sneezing competitions, long ago before the Great Fires exposed the sands.

"Help me lads! I've fallen and can't get up!"

Roak slumps against the wall at this and then calls to the others. "I think we need to go back and rest." he says.

Voran, unaffected by this madness, begins to help the others out and back to a place where they can rest undisturbed, back up into the dungeon above if necessary.

“This Timmy chap had better be worth the effort,” Elboc grumbles.

(OOC: We’re sending help immediately, Mrs. Fletcher!)

Sherborne moves to rest with the others until the effects wear off.

When the tremors finally left her Vsaati realized the old adage was true.  Her hips didn't lie, they were sore from all the enforced dancing, along with many more muscles she hadn't realized she had.  Gingerly she crouched down, both to stretch and rest at the same time.  She blew a puff of air from her mouth to shoo away her bangs, which threatened to remain plastered to a forehead damp from the exertion.

"I don't think I've ever seen anything like that before!" she exclaimed, before forcing herself upward with a groan and heading over to the fallen dwarf.  Extending a hand, she tried to get Albricht back on his feet.

"All right, old timer.  Upsa-daisy!"

Albricht winced as he was hauled to his sandaled feet. The pain from the spider's fangs was very fresh, having punctured clean through his retrofitted armor. The burs would need to be pounded out, but in order to do that, he'd need to work the kinks and pain out of his upper back and shoulders, but in order to do that he'd need to remove his armor and desert robes, but in order to do that he'd need to work the stiffness from around the spider's bite, which was very fresh.

"Lend a hand here lass, My arms don't seem to be working correctly."

It might have been the sun tan of his baked face rather than a blush, but it was possible the woman's jelly-ish hip movements had been noticed.

"Hope there aren't any more of those things down here!"

Whistling an elvish tune, Silverglade looks around the fissure looking for any more dangers or treasure.

If she noticed Albricht’s red cheeks she gave no sign, but hoisted the stout dowser to his sandled feet and then glanced about at her companions.  “That wasn’t pleasant, but Timmy’s still down here somewhere.  We’d best continue or his chances are going to be slim to none.”

Roak glares and sighs. "Fine. But if we all die following Timmy, I'm going to haunt your relatives."

Sherborne considers a moment everyone's condition and then less than enthusiastically agrees to continue looking for Timmy.

"Thank'ee lass," Albricht grunted in appreciation for the help up. "Let's poke around some more and see if we find any of Timmy's other items... or parts."

Wiping off some of the ichor from his crossbow, the dwarf looked around to get his bearings and then proceeded, carefully, to lead the crew further into the caverns...

Voran nods ands aids the others, looking for signs of which direction Timmy was taken.

Roak, for his part, impatiently waits for everyone to be done searching then leads the little group further into the caves looking for Timmy.

The party inspect the chamber again, finding that it is a very rough, natural-looking chamber, about 15' side-to-side, and 35 feet front to back.  The chamber has exits to the left and right at its end, opposite where the group entered.  Deeper inspection shows only the bones of small animals, piles here and there in the corners and folds of the rough walls, loosely tied in what looks like strands of silk, and the body of the massive spider.

Just as the group is about ready to stop searching the cavern, one of the elves spots what appears to be a rolled-up bit of vellum tucked into a crack in one of the walls, quite high up.

Roak, now interested, climbs up and grabs the vellum. If he is unable to, he defers to the party's thief.

The oldster shuffled over to the righthand exit to the chamber and took a look, his lazy eye wandering nervously to the ceiling. He looked to see if there were any tracks, scuff-marks, or signs there.

With some work, Roak manages to scramble up the wall and pull the vellum from the crack.  It appears to have something written on it.

“The journals of the Timmy, perhaps?  Maybe even a lengthy suicide note?”

Roak grabs the vellum and brings it down. "Something written on it," he says, offering it to those who are more curious than he.

Voran, always being curious, grabs the vellum and tries to read it.

At least moderately grateful that his eyeballs do not implode as he reads, Elder Voran soon finds that this is a scroll of Protection from Undead.

The passage by which the party entered this cavern awaits behind, with passages forward both to the left and right.  A low moan, almost too quiet to be heard, comes briefly from the left.  Occasional scratching sounds, also faint, come a bit more regularly from the right.

Albricht motioned with his crossbow and proceeded carefully to the right. His senses tuned to 'Paranoid' as he kept glancing at the ceiling. The oldster's stray and random whisps of whisker and hair seemed to have ceased their waving about as they now stood at rigid attention while both eyes seemed to be focused in approximately the same direction.

Shuffle, shuffle, listen, shuffle, shuffle, look, shuffle, shuffle...

And so it was.

Voran shares this with the others. "I will save this for a time when we are dealing with a powerful undead foe," he adds.

Roak, who looks  a little sad that Voran's eyes didn't melt, nods left. "I say we go left. Moaning sounds like it could be Timmy, versus scraching."

"Right. We go right or we go wrong."

He sounded insistent.

It was an old dwarven axiom of exploration and discovery, a nugget of wisdom handed down from dwarf-father to rock-chewer, generation after generation. Or maybe he'd just heard it once at a desert oasis sometime in the last century or two. At any rate, this saying held a spot of profound regard by the old dwarf.

"Maybe Timmy's making the scratching sound. Perhaps he has a skin condition?"

Roak glares at Albricht and crosses his arms. "Mmmm hm. I don't agree. What does everyone else think?"

"Why have a scroll to protect you from the undead unless there are undead nearby?" muses Silverglade. "So I think we should go left."

“You’ve got to end the moaning before you stop the scratching.  At least, that’s what the ladies say, where I come from.”

"Aye, I've heard stories about where you come from... They say the females bite the heads off the males at that point. So nay, we go right."

The old-timer's ears were twitching with agitation.

Voran shakes his head. "It would appear you are out-voted, Albricht; I also am inclined to go left."

In this case Sherborne nods in agreement with the fellow Cleric.

"BAH! That's what I think of yer votes!" The emphasis was such that the old dwarf's tone was unmistakable. He shifted, he shuffled and he shnorted, but it did him little good. He'd been around these younger sorts and didn't want to have to see them throw fits if they didn't get their way. And so, to head off a bunch of whining and complaining and elven tantrums, he reluctantly turned his back on dungeon wisdom and followed the others into the left tunnel.

Most of the curses he was muttering got caught in his whiskers... most of them.

"Elboc, you're a drittsek," Vsaati said, shaking her head and rolling her eyes at the elf's crude comment.  She offered no other opinion on their next direction, instead silently falling in with the group once it began to move left, much to Albricht's visible disappointment.

The left passage winds back, significantly more narrow and twisty than the initial entrance.  The dust on the floor appears to have been disturbed some time in the past, but additional dust atop the indistinct tracks shows that this was quite some time ago.  About two minutes into the passage the moaning stops.  Briefly, a narrow crack, just big enough for a small dog to enter, travels off to the right, but none of the party are large enough to enter it.

After several additional minutes and a steadily increasing constriction of the passage, it opens out into a cavern that glitters as it reflects the light from the party's torches.  The walls and ceiling seem to be covered in small crystals over the course of the room's roughly 50 foot diameter.  The room is notably colder than the passage leading to it, and the curves and folds of the walls, ceiling, and floor make the shadows here shift and flicker.

In the center of the room is what appears to be a face-down humanoid body wearing plate mail and a helmet styled to look like a bird of prey.  A longsword and shield sit on the ground nearby, and the figure appears to have a bulging backpack.  The figure and its equipment are all covered in the same glittering crystals.

Voran says, in a clear voice, "Do not approach that body. It might be undead. Someone may want to poke it with a ten foot pole or toss a rock at it."

Roak looks skeptically at the cleric, but then shrugs, picking up a stone and lobbing it at the body, striking it on the head none too hard, just jostling the body, while still a good ways away.

Sherborne readies his mace but is also keenly aware of the exit if bolting turns out to be the best option.

Silverglade looks to see whether the crystals on the body are the same ones that glitter on the walls. Anything that covers a corpse is always a possibility of having caused the death.

Roak's stone strikes the helmeted head, producing a dull metallic sound, and it shifts just a bit from the impact, some of the tiny glittering crystals sliding off of it and onto the floor.  At this distance they appear to be the same crystals that are on the walls and ceiling.

Ooc: What color are the crystals?  Are they all alike?  And could they be valuable?

Albricht stood a moment and scratched thoughtfully at the hair growing out of his ear as he surveyed the situation. Nodding approvingly at Roak's line of thinking, the dwarf picked up a rock and lobbed it at the ceiling of the caver to see what it might take to dislodge some of the crystals...

Albricht's stone dislodges a few of the small, glittering, colorless crystals, and they fall to the floor along with the stone.  If they have any value, it would appear to be quite small, due to how incredibly tiny they are.

As the stone clatters to the floor, there is a brief sense of an even colder breeze whispering through the cavern, possibly coming from further back, behind one of the ripples in the wall.

Vsaati found the cavern eerie even before the crystal-encrusted corpse on the floor became evident.  The sense of chill rubbed her nerves the wrong way, and she couldn't help but recall the purpose of the scroll Roak had retrieved.

"Where is that breeze coming from?" she whispered to the others, her eyes a little wider than normal.  One of her daggers had appeared in her hand, as though the steel could fend off her growing uneasiness.

“Should we go through the victim’s backback?  We might find a clue.”

Scratch... scratch... scratch...

"Hmmm... Borrow me that torch a moment." The old dwarf reached for it. He lifted it very close to the closest crystals to observe if a growing hunch had merit...

"Wonder if it's ice... ice, maybe?"

Albricht carefully examines the crystals, but if they are ice, it is an ice far different from any he has encountered before.  The small crystals are hard and glitter sharply, quite unlike ice in any but the most bitterly cold environments.  While this room has a chill on it, it is nowhere near that cold.

Silverglade lifts an eyebrow at Albricht's suggestion. "Do you mean some sort of special ice or vanilla ice?" he asks.

Roak shrugs and heads forward to search the body, keeping his sword handy just in case.

Roak moves forward to check the body, and just as he reaches it, a pale, manlike figure that seems to be made of mist and shadow rises from the body.  Roak's caution serves him well and he and the others with him are not caught off guard by the sudden appearance of this insubstantial figure.

07:17, Today: Dungeon Master rolled 3 using 1d6.  Surprise Roll.

07:17, Today: Dungeon Master rolled 4 using 1d6.  Party's Initiative.
07:17, Today: Dungeon Master rolled 2 using 1d6.  Monster's Initiative.

<Your turn.  Fight!>

Elboc puts an arrow through the son of a beast!  (Or not...)

13:12, Today: Elboc Ice Eyes rolled 8 using 1d20+1.  To hit.
This message was last edited by the player at 17:13, Wed 20 June 2018.

Silverglade draws his sword and rushes to the attack.

22:22, Today: Silverglade rolled 6 using 1d8+2. Damage (sword +1).
22:21, Today: Silverglade rolled 12 using 1d20+2. To hit (sword +1).

"Vanilla Ice?" Albricht cocked his head at Silverglade. "Something's killing your brain, lad, probably those poisonous mushrooms... Will it ever stop? Aye, I don't know..." That's when Roak became impatient.

With a battle-cry like that of a lyrical poet, the old water-finder rushed into battle with mace a'swingin'!

He should have just concentrated on the swing.

Magical Mace Attack: Albricht Burghammer rolled 5

A hiss shot forth from Vsaati's mouth when the spirit rose to confront Roak, the hint of mist forming in the cold.  She quickly had her sling in hand and launched a stone at the ghostly apparition, its trajectory accurate but its effect unclear.


OOC:

21:09, Today: Vsaati rolled 3 using 1d4+1.  Damage to ghosty thing.  If a stone can hurt it, of course!
21:09, Today: Vsaati rolled 19 using 1d20+3.  Sling attack on ghosty thing.
This message was last edited by the player at 01:12, Thu 21 June 2018.

Sherborne rushes up to attack the misty guy but finds nothing but...mist?

08:14, Today: Sherborne rolled 9 using 1d20+2 ((7)).

Silverglade's swing bites into the apparition, doing some considerable damage.  Vsaati's sling stone flies through the figure, but appears to do no damage.  None of the others have connected so far.

Lanliss steps up and swings, connecting solidly into the non-solid figure, and doing almost enough damage to finish it.

07:23, Today: Lanliss rolled 21 using 1d20+4.  Attack Roll.
07:23, Today: Lanliss rolled 9 using 1d8+4.  Damage Roll.
This message was last updated by the GM at 14:25, Thu 21 June 2018.

This message was deleted by the player at 01:56, Fri 22 June 2018.

<It's not quite your turn yet, Sherborne.  We're waiting for Roak and Elder Voran to post, then, if the creature is still around, it will attack, then we go to initiative again.>

As soon as he gets the chance, Elboc takes another shot.

13:49, Today: Elboc Ice Eyes rolled 1 using 1d6.  Dam.
13:48, Today: Elboc Ice Eyes rolled 16 using 1d20+1.  To hit.
This message was last edited by the player at 17:49, Sat 23 June 2018.

Voran holds up his holy symbol and shouts, "Retreat, you minion of darkness!"

The creature wavers but does not flee...

Assuming this is a wraith or worse, just fail to Turn--needed a 9 for a Wraith, only rolled an 8.

15:54, Today: Elder Voran rolled 8 using 2d6 with rolls of 6,2.  Turn Undead!!

Roak, meanwhile, steps up to the thing with his magical sword shining and drives the blade into it, cutting up towards its head!!

Huzzah! Hit AC -4 for 5 damage with my +1 sword! I hope that does it.

15:57, Today: Roak The Quick rolled 5 using 1d8+2 with rolls of 3.  Damage!!
15:57, Today: Roak The Quick rolled 21 using 1d20+2 with rolls of 19.  Attack w/magic sword!

The venerable water-finder changed his attack due to the congestion caused by all his stalwart and brave companions all attacking at once. He employed a variation of Thorbad the Mage Masher's Infinity Stroke. Thorbad, being a renowned sorceror squasher with a trick knee and a mouth that would wilt a death lily, had developed this technique during the Great Wars. Dwarven legend tells of this unlikely hero leaving a wake of wizards on the battle-field, though there are some discrepancies in the tales as to why a covey of casters would conglomerate and whether or not they'd be laid low by practically any hobble-walking beard-wearer with a fresh curse word for every day of the year. Thorbad's techniques lived on however, and though the Burghammer Clan's relations with those of Thorbad's own weren't always cordial, respect was shown by their adoption of the method.

Albricht swung his magical mace in what those lesser educated in the fine nuances of hand-to-hand combat would see as the shape of an '8', but was instead a vertical Infinity Stroke. A brilliant maneuver to be sure.


Magical Mace Attack: Hit AC0 for 6 van-damme-age

Roak's attack was so sudden and so violent that the rest of the party (notably Sherborne, Elboc, and Albricht) didn't quite realize that he had finished the incorporeal figure before their own attacks screamed through the space which it had occupied just a split-second before.  Several people might well claim that they themselves had finished the thing, so great was the confusion, but Roak can clearly recall just the hint of resistance as his own weapon finished tearing it to shreds.

With the immediate threat dealt with, Roak can clearly see the body.  It is what appears to be a face-down, human-sized body wearing plate mail and a helmet styled to look like a bird of prey.  A longsword and shield sit on the ground nearby, and the figure appears to have a bulging backpack.  The figure and its equipment are all covered in the same glittering crystals seen elsewhere in the cavern.
This message was last edited by the GM at 00:52, Wed 27 June 2018.

"Get back to INNN-finitaaaaayyyyy!" Albricht almost cooed as he finished the spectral entity. Almost breaking his own arm patting himself on the back, Albricht shuffled around the cavern to take a look at the situation while the others scrounged around. The crystals were an oddity the dwarf would wonder about.

Voran looks amused at Albricht. "Albricht, I do believe Roak killed the thing," he says, a twinkle in his eye.

Roak, for his part, is too busy opening up the backpack on the corpse to see what this unfortunate fellow had with him.  He will also inspect the longsword for quality.

Roak finds that the longsword is of quite good quality, and comes from its scabbard quite easily, despite the dusting of glittering crystals on it.  The backpack contains a now-empty waterskin, several packets of what are most likely some sort of dried food, a coin purse (with 50 PP, 128 GP, 117 SP, and 102 CP in it), two small glass vials with wax seals over cork stoppers, 50 feet of a very light and strong rope, a bedroll, a small hammer, and 28 pitons.  The figure wears plate armor, has a dagger belted on its side, and a shield sits nearby.

Silverglade looks at the weapon and armour. "Does anyone have a way to tell if this stuff is enchanted?" he asks.

Voran clears his throat. "We should perhaps determine that later. We need to save Timmy."

"Hrrumph? That i'n't him?" Albricht seemed surprised.

"Check his helmet, I'd wager his mother stitched his name into the band."

"Guess I figured Timmy for a little boy, but who's to say?" shrugged Vsaati.  "This place is anything but conventional so far."

She stood near Roak, watching as the halfling looted the pack and keeping an eye out for anything in particular that caught her eye.  Certainly the sword did, especially if it would help her defend herself against things like that spirit.  That her sling stone had flown true and yet not even bothered the thing had not gone unnoticed.

While the others are looting, Elboc keeps an eye on their surroundings.  You could never be too careful.

Albricht nudged the shield with his toe. "Hrrrumph." His aged eyes also widened a bit at the helmet.

OOC: If its safe looking, he'll pick it up and see if it's any better than the old battered shield he's been lugging around, and if nobody wants it, he'll consider the helmet as well...

"Gather it up then, if this ain't Timmy, then we should probably get moving."

Roak nods and waves at the others. "If the sword's an improvement over mine, dibs. If it's just like mine, we'll spread the love."

He searches the body for any sign that this hapless adventurer was Timmy.

Albricht notes that both the helmet and shield seem to be in much better shape than his own.  Whatever "safe looking" might be, though is a thing that the aged dwarf will have to determine for himself.

The longsword would be a very long weapon for Roak, given that it is sized for a human, but he's quite sure that he'll be able to use it if he uses both hands, thus precluding the use of a shield.  As to whether or not it would be an improvement, the halfling will need to decide this for himself.

The old shield could be seen as something of a journal for Albricht Burghammer. In recent history, he'd scavenged it from the wreckage of a cart, a casualty of the desert. Having escaped into the strange pyramid with the others, the marks and scars and gouges and burns and so forth reflected a tale of adventure. Each of the marks, the corrosion of acid and splatters of gore represented the ingredients of stories worthy of the ballad singers of the Burning Bluff Oasis. It might even be the sort of thing that would grace the halls of a museum... perhaps.

The old dwarf cast it aside with little thought. Survival in the desert meant no spares were needed.

He looped it across his back where his old shield had, until this moment, faithfully hung at the ready. He then pulled back his desert hood, and just before placing the winged helm upon his sun-baked skull... checked to see if indeed "Timmy" might be stitched somewhere inside.

"Do you want to use it now, Roak?" Vsaati asked, referring to the large sword the halfling had claimed from the corpse.  She recognized it was a little large for him and might not fit his fighting style all that well.  "If not, I'd be happy to carry it for you and put it to some use until we confirm its pedigree."

Vsaati had a longsword already, taken from one of the fallen hobgoblins.  It was serviceable if rough, but carried no enchantments to help against the like of spirits or other fearsome beasts.  And neither did any of her other weaponry: her daggers, her sling stones.  At worst this new sword would simply be better looking than the one she carried now, at best she would be able to contribute in all battles ahead.

"What do you say?"

Roak looks annoyed. He pulls the equally long longsword from the scabbard on his back and compares them. "Gee, I don't know. I always wanted to fight with two two-handed weapons at the same time." He glares at Vsaati but tosses her the longsword. "Why don't you try it on. You might use it half as effectively as me."

He continues searching the body to determine if there is ANY sign that this is Timmy.
This message was last edited by the player at 17:31, Sun 01 July 2018.

Albricht searches the interior of the winged helm, but finds no inscription there.  It settles over his head quite comfortably, and somehow manages to restrict his vision only a bit.

Roak's continued search reveals no further sign that this might be Timmy, and the apparent age of the corpse (it looks a bit desiccated now that some of the gear has been stripped from it) makes it even less likely that this would be the body of a person recently kidnapped from the nearby mushroom fields.

Roak pops up. "Definitely not Timmy. Let's go further in and rescue the lad."

He leads the way with the elves...

Albricht's shuffle took on a bit of a strut, perhaps it was unintentional though it was often hard to tell with the odd water-finder. His helmeted head seemed to bob a bit, not unlike some short little... rooster.

"Aye! Let's be onward and downward then. If this ain't Timmy, then we'd better keep moving."

Albricht fell in behind Roak, his crossbow again at the ready.

Finding no further exits from this room, the party backtracks to the cavern where they encountered the giant spider and takes the right-hand passage, from which they had previously heard scratching sounds.

This passage is much wider and obviously more well-traveled.  There is no dust on the floor, and the floor has been somewhat smoothed to make the footing better.  About 40 feet into the passage, it again forks to the right and left.  Pausing to listen, the faint scratching can again be heard from the right-hand passage, and there is a musty smell that comes up from the left.

"Scratchy or foul, darned if I know where he is."  Sherborne readies his mace and looks around for any other potential clues.

Albricht looked to see if the more trafficked pathway led to the left or to the right, though his choice of pursuit was already made... had been made for several centuries actually.

"Hhrrruuight!"

Roak's testy reply left Vsaati a little puzzled.  She thought it seemed entirely reasonable that they share the findings, especially if certain items would otherwise not be put to use at all.  Apparently Roak thought she was slighting him somehow.  Still, when he tossed the sword her way she caught it deftly in her right hand and twirled it in a quick arc, showing she could indeed use it at least half as effectively.

"Thanks.  Your claim stands once we know what, if anything, it can do," she confirmed neutrally before slipping the blade through her belt.

When the group started moving again the burglar fell into position, until the reached another branching where a decision was needed.  Given she'd been interested in the scratching noise to begin with, she again sided with Albricht.  "I agree, to the right."

Silverglade will try on the armour if nobody else wants to, before following the party.

Voran smirks. "Yes, let's go right.

Roak looks at Albricht. "I should say left, just because you and the cleric said right. But right makes more sense. Come on." He leads the way.

The dwarf's eyebrow shot up. "Bah! Of course it makes sense..." The rest was in a very old dwarven dialect that sounded not unlike several boulders tumbling around inside of a steel cauldron, and none of it was very flattering about Roak... nor his parentage.

Regardless, Albricht was glad that his wisdom was finally being recognized by his short cohort, and enthusiastically joined in right behind the grumpy little fellow.

Silverglade finds that the plate armor fits him quite well.  It almost seems to mold itself to the contours of his body, and is much easier to move in than he would have expected.


The party turns down the right-hand passage and very quickly finds themselves in a medium-sized cavern that appears to be filled with refuse.  The faint scratching sound is coming from several different points within the garbage.

“I’ll takes rats for a thousand, Gary.  Do I win?”


He notches an arrow.

"I think now would be the time for the fireballs you elves have all been saving..."

Albricht shouldered his crossbow, readied his new shield and grasped with his shield hand a torch he'd procured from his pack. Holding his magical mace in this weapon hand, he lit the torch from the one his companion carried.

Voran nods. "I agree with Albricht, actually. What magic can we bring to bear to destroy the garbage pile and the vermin that lurks therein?"
This message was last edited by the GM at 04:35, Wed 04 July 2018.

"I could try to charm one of them," says Silverglade. "Perhaps we should just attack like we normally do. I want to try out my new armour."

Albricht dug around in his pack for a moment, seeming to have come up with an idea...

"Hrrrumph! Outta oil. We should've gone shopping before we decided to come tromping back out here into the subterranean wilds..."

He hefted his magical mace and the new shield he'd scavenged off the body of Not-Timmy.

"Step right up then lad, show us how it's done!"

He shoved the elf forward and kicked a stray bit of rubbish into the scratching pile to set it off.

(forgive me Silverglade... ;-)

Roak draws his sword, rolling his eyes. "Oh, here we go."

10:01, Today: Dungeon Master rolled 2 using 1d6.  Party's Initiative.
10:01, Today: Dungeon Master rolled 4 using 1d6.  Monster's Initiative.

The attack that Albricht hoped to provoke by kicking the rubbish toward the pile works, but not quite as any of the party members might have expected.  Three giant beetles burst out of the pile about 10 feet from where the bit of trash impacted, coming at the group a bit from the side.

Two orange-and-black striped beetles attack one on Roak and one on Silverglade, both failing to do any damage, but a close shave for Roak.

10:04, Today: Dungeon Master rolled 14 using 1d20.  Attack Roll.
10:04, Today: Dungeon Master rolled 4 using 1d20.  Attack Roll.

The third beetle that appears is a bit smaller than the other two, and colored a shiny brown.  It bites at Albricht, but misses quite cleanly, then squirts a thin stream of a foul-smelling oily substance at the old dwarf, also missing him.

10:10, Today: Dungeon Master rolled 5 using 1d20.  Attack Roll.
10:09, Today: Dungeon Master rolled 1 using 1d20.  Attack Roll.

<Your turn, guys.>

Sherborne rushes to attack the 'spitting' beetle and tries to crush it with his mace.

14:45, Today: Sherborne rolled 7 using 1d6+2.  damage.
14:44, Today: Sherborne rolled 22 using 1d20+2.  attack on spitting beetle Nat 20 - I can't remember if we were doing any kind of crits house rule in the game or not but either way a solid hit.

"OH NO YA DON'T!!!" Albricht crouched behind his new shield. "Point that thing the other way!"

The old dwarf made a terrific swing at the beetle which had tried to spray him.

Turns out the oily spray was exactly that, oily. And slick. The result was a rapidly spinning (and missing) dwarf... not unlike a gnomish toy top.

Melee Attack: Albricht Burghammer rolled... a Natural 1.

“Beetles?  What do you know... I was wrong.  Amazingly.”

Elboc lets an arrow fly at the nearest beetle, then takes a step back.

06:31, Today: Elboc Ice Eyes rolled 12 using 1d20+1.  To hit.
This message was last edited by the player at 10:31, Sun 08 July 2018.

As surprised as the rest to see the large beetles emerge rather than a passel of small rats, Vsaati at least managed to get her sling whirling and to launch a stone at the vermin harassing Albright.  The stone flew true, but she wasn’t sure whether the beetle felt it through its hard  shell.


OOC:

08:31, Today: Vsaati rolled 17 using 1d20+3.  Attack beetle.
09:16, Today: Vsaati rolled 3 using 1d4+1.  Damage to beetle.

Vsaati's sling stone smacks into the remains of the beetle that Sherborne had just finished destroying in a rather spectacular way.

<Yeah, I've been doing double damage on a critical hit, but we haven't gotten a natural 20 in quite a while.  I've added it to the Rules and Rulings thread.>

"Take that, Ringo!" shouts Silverglade as he strikes at one of the beetles. However, Albricht's shove has left him off balance, and his slash isn't well aimed.

20:29, Today: Silverglade rolled 6 using 1d8+2. Damage (sword +1).
20:29, Today: Silverglade rolled 10 using 1d20+2. To hit (sword +1).

Roak takes advantage of the distraction Silverglade causes and drives his blade into the beetle.

Hit (AC negative something) for 7 damage.

20:57, Today: Roak The Quick rolled 7 using 1d8+2.  Damage.
20:57, Today: Roak The Quick rolled 20 using 1d20+2.  Roak on beetle.

Voran, meanwhile, tries to contibute to the assault on the beetle but misses widely.

Miss the beetle.
20:58, Today: Elder Voran rolled 4 using 1d20+1.  Slingstone on beetle.

Roak's strike fairly seriously injures one of the two striped beetles, but doesn't take it out of the fight.

07:24, Today: Dungeon Master rolled 4 using 1d6.  Party's Initiative.
07:24, Today: Dungeon Master rolled 5 using 1d6.  Monster's Initiative.

The attempted response by the beetle Roak attacked fails rather badly as a result, as does the other's attack on Silverglade.

07:25, Today: Dungeon Master rolled 4 using 1d20.  Attack Roll.
07:26, Today: Dungeon Master rolled 14 using 1d20.  Attack Roll.

<Your turn again, guys.  There are only two of them left, and the one on Roak is injured.>

Disappointed her well-aimed strike was essentially wasted on the spitting beetle, the burglar turned her attention to the striped one duelling with Roak.  This time her aim was less certain, the stone glancing off the shell of the beetle.  Only the giant insect knew whether the toss was more than a passing distraction.


OOC:

17:06, Today: Vsaati rolled 12 using 1d20+3.  Attack beetle on Roak.  Probably a miss?
17:07, Today: Vsaati rolled 3 using 1d4+1.  Damage to beetle (if a hit).

"Meant to do that, it was setup for THIS!" Albricht recovered nicely from his spectacular spinning miss and brought his magical mace to bear on the closest beetle. He pounded downward like an oliphant stomping on a banana. Except with a mace... and less mass.

"This reminds me of that little hostel at that little Oasis near Oghmar... refuse and beetles the size of ponies... sure miss that place."

Attack: hit AC3 for 9 damage

Sherborne tries to crunch another one but he must have been too giddy from his last hit or too covered with beetle goo for this attack.

15:45, Today: Sherborne rolled 4 using 1d20+2 ((2)).

Silverglade slashes widely about him, but his heart's not in it. "We really should start fighting a better class of opponent," he says, revolted at the sight of the beetle before him.

22:45, Today: Silverglade rolled 7 using 1d20+2. To hit (sword +1).

Elboc aims carefully and then lets loose another arrow.


20:30, Today: Elboc Ice Eyes rolled 6 using 1d20+1.  To hit.
This message was last edited by the player at 00:30, Wed 11 July 2018.

Roak, undeterred by the beetle's durability, keeps hacking away at the wounded spot on the beetle, trying his best to finish it.

Hit AC Below Zero and do 7 damage.

21:04, Today: Roak The Quick rolled 7 using 1d8+2.  Damage.
21:04, Today: Roak The Quick rolled 22 using 1d20+2.  Kill a beetle.

Voran, meanwhile, whips another slingstone at a beetle and at least hits its carapace this time.

Hit AC9, almost certainly a miss.

21:05, Today: Elder Voran rolled 10 using 1d20+1.  Slingstone on beetle.

Roak finishes off the beetle that was attacking him in spectacular fashion, with Albricht injuring the other significantly, and Lanliss finishing it off.

21:06, Today: Dungeon Master, on behalf of Lanliss, rolled 18 using 1d20+4.  Attack Roll.
21:07, Today: Dungeon Master, on behalf of Lanliss, rolled 7 using 1d8+4.  Damage Roll.

<Also, Roak, you rolled a natural 20 on that last hit you made, which would be damage rolled twice, with the bonus damage doubled as well.>

"Well? How'd that work out Silverglade? You weren't toooo clunky in that new armor." It was kind of like a compliment from the old water-finder.

He shuffled over to the corpses and carefully pushed them into a pile so that the refuse in the chamber might be more easily sorted through.

"Timmy? You in here somewhere?"

As the rest of the party might well expect, there is no response from Timmy from inside of the pile of refuse.

Roak, unabashed, starts poking through the pile of refuse with his sword trying to find valuables or signs of poor Timmy.

Sherborne keeps a lookout while the other search and/or investigate.

Roak digs around for a while and comes up with 63 GP and a brass tube about two figer-widths thick, with end caps, one of which is soldered on and the other of which seems to be threaded on.

"Hmmm... well no Timmy. Again. S'pose we'd better keep searching. Good eye Roak..."

Albricht replaced his mace to the loop on his belt next to the worn warhammer, and took up his crossbow once more. He scouted out the chamber looking for exits and clues that might, by some minor miracle, lead them to Timmy. Or treasure. Or both!

Silverglade looks at the tube, trying to find a way to open it.

Voran walks over to Silverglade, curious.

Roak, meanwhile, looks for any other exits from the room.

Silverglade soon realizes that the endcap screws off of the tube, and that the tube contains a curled roll of vellum.

A further inspection of the room by Roak reveals cracks that the beetles or a cat could get through, but nothing larger.

"Now we know lads... now we know."

Albricht looked into the cracks in the walls a bit before he turned back to the entrance to the current tunnel and motioned to Roak to lead them back in the next direction they hadn't yet explored.

Roak snorted. "Yep, we do," he says ruefully. The party backs up and takes the other, unexplored branch of the tunnel.

Silverglade follows along as the others leave, but reads the scroll as he does so.

Vsaati followed along, cautiously mindful of floors and ceilings.  This set of caves seemed overrun with vermin of all kinds.

Sherborne follows along at the ready and wondering if he should clean the goo off of his mace.

Silverglade inspects the vellum page and finds that he cannot decipher it, but it does appear to be magical.

The party backtrack to the last fork, this time taking the left-hand passage.  This passage soon widens to a comfortable, if irregular, size, and appears to be well-traveled. After about five minutes of careful travel the party just see the shadows of a pair of niches in the passage wall ahead, each large enough to hold a very big person.  Just as they become aware of this, a pair of crossbow bolts slice through the air and into the group.  One of the bolts misses Silverglade by a fair margin and the other strikes Albricht, but not solidly, doing only minimal damage.  The sound of furious re-cocking of some device comes from the pair of niches.

10:44, Today: Dungeon Master rolled 7 using 1d20.  Attack Roll. (Silverglade)
10:44, Today: Dungeon Master rolled 15 using 1d20.  Attack Roll. (Albricht)
10:45, Today: Dungeon Master rolled 1 using 1d6.  Damage Roll. (Albricht)

The party just manages to respond before crossbows can be reloaded, having been surprised by their still-unseen attackers, but not caught unprepared.

10:47, Today: Dungeon Master rolled 5 using 1d6.  Party's Initiative.
10:47, Today: Dungeon Master rolled 4 using 1d6.  Monster's Initiative.

<Your turn, guys.>

Words of power roll from Silverglade's lips as he casts Charm Person at the occupant of one of the niches.

Elboc cocks his bows and waits for a target to present itself.

Silverglade's superior eyesight revealed just enough of the larger-than-man-sized creature in the niche that he was able to target it with a spell.  The creature continues cocking its crossbow, however, yet calls out in a language that seems similar to both goblin and hobgoblin, yet is still unintelligible to the elf.

Elboc's superior eyesight reveals just enough of both niche occupants that he is able to get a shot off.

Sherborne moves up to make himself a target while the spell casters and arrow shooters do their thing.  (I am not sure if I am close to enough to attack this round but will at least move close enough to move and attack next round.)

Albricht stepped forward and lifted his shield in front of him. He allowed his eyes to shift into other spectra, a gift of his dwarven heritage. The adversaries might try to hide from the group, but the old water-finder wasn't about get skewered by random crossbow bolts!

"You can hide, but you can't run!"

With a roar he swung his magical mace in an overhand stroke!


OOC: Does dwarven Infravision ability work in this instance?
Attack: Hit AC(-5) for 5 damage

Sherborne and Albricht are upon the foes in moments, both of them particularly large goblinoids, each at about 8 feet tall and hairy all over.

Albricht's mace crashes into one of them, doing significant, although not life-thretening, damage.

Sherborne can just see to attack, but the lighting here is quite dim.

Sherborne waves at the large furry thing but the dark is too much for him at the moment.

22:22, Today: Sherborne rolled 6 using 1d20+2.  Attack on the large furry.

Elder moves forward so his torchlight enlightens the big goblinoids. He also tries to fling a slingstone at the goblinoids but trips as he flings it.

Move so torchlight shines on both of the enemies, and nat 1 on attack.
13:07, Today: Elder Voran rolled 2 using 1d20+1.  Slingshot on big goblinoid.

Once Roak can see the goblinoids--whom he suspects are bugbears, according to his Aunt Imelda's stories--he rushes forward and stabs at the midsection of the wounded one!

Hit AC 5 for 8 hp! I love being 4th level :-)

13:09, Today: Roak The Quick rolled 8 using 1d8+2 with rolls of 6.  Damage.
13:09, Today: Roak The Quick rolled 12 using 1d20+2 with rolls of 10.  Attack big goblinoid.

Roak's sudden and telling attack strikes home, taking one of the two bugbears in the gut, with Lanliss right on the halfling's heels, finishing the creature with a thrust to the neck.

07:04, Today: Dungeon Master, on behalf of Lanliss, rolled 15 using 1d20+4.  Attack Roll.
07:04, Today: Dungeon Master, on behalf of Lanliss, rolled 10 using 1d8+4.  Damage Roll.

<Elboc and Vsaati, you both can see the other bugbear well enough to get shots off.>

Vsaati tried to fit a sling stone through the party members harassing the ambushing bugbears, but her caution to avoid friendly fire meant she sent the stone whizzing far too high to be of any concern to anyone.


OOC:

20:44, Today: Vsaati rolled 8 using 1d20+3.  Attack bugbear.

Elboc catches sight of one of the two creatures and lets and arrow fly, but misses.

07:13, Today: Dungeon Master, on behalf of Elboc Ice Eyes, rolled 8 using 1d20.  Attack Roll.

The two bugbears attack Sherborne and Roak, missing the cleric, but hitting the halfling solidly.

07:15, Today: Dungeon Master rolled 4 using 1d20.  Attack Roll. (Sherborne)
07:15, Today: Dungeon Master rolled 19 using 1d20.  Attack Roll. (Roak)
07:16, Today: Dungeon Master rolled 5 using 1d8+1.  Damage Roll.  (Roak)

In the confusion of the melee, the pair of goblinoids get the drop on the party and level a quick set of attacks and their previous targets.

07:18, Today: Dungeon Master rolled 6 using 1d6.  Monster's Initiative.
07:18, Today: Dungeon Master rolled 1 using 1d6.  Party's Initiative.

Both attacks look solid at first, but fall wide of the mark by the end of the swing.

07:19, Today: Dungeon Master rolled 13 using 1d20.  Attack Roll. (Sherborne)
07:19, Today: Dungeon Master rolled 2 using 1d20.  Attack Roll. (Roak)

<Your turn again, guys.>
This message was last edited by the GM at 14:21, Mon 23 July 2018.

Silverglade lunges in against one of the bugbears that he didn't charm.

22:24, Today: Silverglade rolled 6 using 1d8+2. Damage (sword +1).
22:24, Today: Silverglade rolled 14 using 1d20+2. To hit (sword +1).

Roak takes a blow from his bugbear with a cry, though he rolled well with the blow, a trick he had learned in this strange subterranean world. Sensing the bugbear's eagerness for a follow-up, Roak ducks under the next swing from the great goblinoid and thrust his longsword two-handed into the bugbear's gut. "HA!" he cried...

Hit AC -1 for 8 hp.

20:43, Today: Roak The Quick rolled 8 using 1d8+2 with rolls of 6.  Damage.
20:42, Today: Roak The Quick rolled 18 using 1d20+2 with rolls of 16.  Attack the bugbear that hit him.

Voran, meanwhile, continued his feeble attempts to contribute to combat, flinging a stone that at least hit Sherborne's bugbear's armor...

Hit AC 7 for 4 hp.

20:45, Today: Elder Voran rolled 4 using 1d4+1 with rolls of 3.  Damage, just in case.
20:45, Today: Elder Voran rolled 12 using 1d20+1 with rolls of 11.  Voran the Useless--sling on bugbear.

Sherborne swipes at the nearest large fur ball hopefully at least distracting it.


19:55, Today: Sherborne rolled 3 using 1d6+2.  damage.
19:55, Today: Sherborne rolled 18 using 1d20+2.  Attack nearest furry.  hit's AC -1

Sherborne, Silverglade, and Roak neatly finish the bugbears, leaving a quiet in the corridor that is notable only in its contrast the the furious din which preceded it.  On further examination, the niches in either side of the corridor do not appear to be natural, showing the signs of having been chipped from the stone, likely to allow sentries to stay out of sight.

Leaving the others to search the bodies, Silverglade hands Sherborne the scroll he found to see whether he can read it.

Albricht scrounged around to find as many crossbow bolts as he could. He was down to his last three, and had been reluctant to press them off.

"What'll they be guarding? I wonder... There may be more of these yonder. I'm beginning to think Timmy may be getting scrubbed up for a dip in the stew pot! We'd best hurry lads!"

Sherborne nods and takes the scroll.  Looking it over on the outside first if he doesn't see anything untoward he opens it and checks if it's legible.

Roak, as is his wont, searches the bodies for valuables.

Voran nods at Albricth's words. "Agreed. Roak, be quick about your business."

As Silverglade before him, Sherborne is unable to make out what is written on the scroll.  It seems to be some complex representation of something, though.

Roak searches the bodies and finds 23cp, 18gp, 2 crossbows, 38 bolts, 2 suits of chainmail, and 2 two-handed swords.

Roak shares this with the others, pocketing the coins for now. "The rest we can come back for. Let's go find Timmy."

The party presses onward, trying to get to Timmy before he gets cooked.

"Darned if I know what this says. It's rather complex whatever it's trying to tell us. I suppose we should hang on to it though.  I can unless anyone else wants to."  Sherborne shrugs.

Albricht quickly loaded the bolts into his quiver, and placed the remainder in his pack. He re-slung the crossbow, affixed his shield to his arm, and led the way forward with a surprising spring in his step. Could be that he'd just saved himself a few gold pieces on their return to town by scavenging some ammo. Or perhaps he just had gas...

The passage continues on for about another 100 feet, or so, twisting a bit here and there, but showing the obvious marks of having been widened and leveled here and here.  The party slow as they find themselves nearing the opening of a cavern ahead, lit by dim blue and green glows coming from various places on the cavern walls.  Several more bugbears can be seen ahead, moving about between cave-like openings in the walls, with a few in the center of the cavern, tending something over a fire.  There appears to be some type of fuel for the fire stacked nearby, and another structure that looks remarkably like a wellhead.  There are three bound humanoid forms of various sizes on the floor, fairly close to the fire.

At this very moment, seven bugbears can be seen in the dimness.

Roak puts his finger to his lips and starts creeping forward...

Voran stops Roak for a moment, saying a low prayer and healing the halfling's wounds. He then stays still while Roak tries to move up toward the room...

Cure Light Wounds on Roak, healing him back to full hp.

18:51, Today: Elder Voran rolled 7 using 1d6+1.  Cure Light Wounds on Roak.
This message was last edited by the player at 22:52, Thu 26 July 2018.

Roak soon finds that he only needs to creep a bit further forward to take in the full expanse of the cavern.  It is roughly 60 feet by 40 feet, and mostly oval, with the party entering on one of the narrow sides.  There appear to be another three smallish passages that exit on the right and far walls, although it's difficult to determine whether or not they are really passages, or simply more-heavily-shadowed cave entrances.  One bugbear enters one of the cave-like openings, and another exits a different one to go check on the fire.

How far away is the closest bugbear? Preferably one not by other bugbears.

“Be vewy, vewy quiet,” Elboc whispers.

Roak, after watching for some time, finds a bugbear that is about 15 feet away from where he is hiding, and easily 15 to 20 feet from any other bugbear.  With the room only being 40 feet by 60 feet, only so much distance is possible.

With no special ability to see in the dim conditions, Vsaati held back to the fringe of the cavern and kept her sling ready to support Roak, assuming she'd be able to pick out where he'd slunk off to.

Sherborne stays back letting the quieter folks work out the next steps, but he does keep his weapon in hand.

He creeps back into the hallway and waves the others back and away into the prior chamber.

"All right, here's my plan. We all rush into the room, targeting different bugbears with ranged weapons. We then form a line in front of the ranged people. Let the bugbears rush us. If they hang back, we rush up and engage a couple at a time. What do you think?"

Albricht patted the stock of his crossbow and the refilled quarrel case. "Sounds good lad, I'm ready."

Silverglade silently nocks an arrow and nods his agreement.

Vsaati had her sling in hand and nodded.  "Good enough," she breathed softly, with the hint of a feral smile.

Voran nods, grabbing his sling. "Let's proceed!"

The party then creeps forward and spring into the room, ready to concentrate fire on an unwary bugbear or two!

From the very start it's obvious that something alerted the bugbears to the party's actions, but not quite to the extent that they're ready for the attack.  The party get the drop on the bugbears and will get to attack before any of the huge, hairy goblinoids can respond effectively.

07:17, Today: Dungeon Master rolled 5 using 1d6.  Party's Initiative.
07:17, Today: Dungeon Master rolled 3 using 1d6.  Monster's Initiative.

<Also, remember that you're in short range (+1 to hit) for most of your ranged weapons, as the room is only 60 feet long at its longest.>

Voran flings his rock at the targeted bugbear, but it misses!

Dicebot hates Voran lately.
16:44, Today: Elder Voran rolled 6 using 1d20+2.  Kill a bugbear!

Roak, meanwhile, advances in front of the missile-flingers and throws his dagger, wounding the bugbear target, then draws his longsword...

Hit AC 4 for 4 hp, then draw sword.

16:46, Today: Roak The Quick rolled 4 using 1d4+1.  Damage.
16:45, Today: Roak The Quick rolled 13 using 1d20+2.  Dagger at bugbear.

Silverglade's arrow strikes the floor far short of the nearest bugbear.

"The arrow has warped with the moisture down here," he explains to anybody who'll listen.

21:56, Today: Silverglade rolled 7 using 1d20+2. To hit (bow).

"Aye, it's a problem," the ancient dwarf mused to Silverglade as he directed his own shot downrange.

Attack: Hit AC-2 for 1 damage...

"Hrrrumph! Tough hide."

Following Roak's lead, the dwarf slung his crossbow and drew his fancy magical mace.

Sherborne attempts to rush and strike one of the bugbears but is finding it elusive this time.

18:50, Today: Sherborne rolled 4 using 1d20+2.  attack on bugbear.

Whirling her sling, Vsaati launched a stone at one of the bugbears but found her aim was also faulty.  The stone landed short ad clattered harmlessly across the ground.

"Can stones warp?" she asked wryly, frustration a strong undercurrent.


OOC:

21:09, Today: Vsaati rolled 7 using 1d20+4.  Attack bugbear.

Lanliss looses an arrow, tagging one of the bugbears, then takes up his sword.

07:15, Today: Lanliss rolled 5 using 1d6.  Damage Roll.
07:15, Today: Lanliss rolled 18 using 1d20+1.  Attack Roll.

"Aye! They can, and often do," Albricht replied to Vsaati. "You know, it's a very interesting phenomenon, though it's not inexplicable if you delve into dwarven lore going all the way back to the great Krag Sliprock. The Lorefathers wrote that Sliprock was able to actually tie knots in stone! Now then, there's several theories..."

On he prattled, not unlike asking a gnome for a wrench, Vsaati had really opened a can of worms!

Elboc takes a shot...

01:48, Today: Elboc Ice Eyes rolled 7 using 1d20+2.  To hit nearest bugbear.

The bugbears, none of them killed in the initial assault by the party, grab weapons and rush to murderize our heroes.

Three of them attack Albricht, to no effect.

07:26, Today: Dungeon Master rolled 4 using 1d20.  Attack Roll.
07:26, Today: Dungeon Master rolled 7 using 1d20.  Attack Roll.
07:26, Today: Dungeon Master rolled 2 using 1d20.  Attack Roll.

Three of them attack Roak, only one of them managing to stick a hit on the halfling.

07:27, Today: Dungeon Master rolled 3 using 1d20.  Attack Roll.
07:27, Today: Dungeon Master rolled 16 using 1d20.  Attack Roll.
07:27, Today: Dungeon Master rolled 6 using 1d8.  Damage Roll.
07:27, Today: Dungeon Master rolled 2 using 1d20.  Attack Roll.

One slips around the pair of front-line defenders to get at the ranged combatants behind them, attacking Lanliss, but completely failing to hit the elf.

07:28, Today: Dungeon Master rolled 5 using 1d20.  Attack Roll.

The party quickly gather themselves in the wake of the mostly ineffective assault by the bugbears, leaping to attack in response.

07:29, Today: Dungeon Master rolled 3 using 1d6.  Party's Initiative.
07:30, Today: Dungeon Master rolled 2 using 1d6.  Monster's Initiative.

<It's close and personal now, and it's your turn.>

"At least steel doesn't warp," says Silverglade as he draws his sword. He makes a textbook-perfect lunge to skewer one of the bugbears.

22:58, Today: Silverglade rolled 10 using 1d8+2.
22:57, Today: Silverglade rolled 22 using 1d20+2. To hit (sword +1).

It was a technique he'd not tried in a long while. The bugbears pressed in close and Albricht spun his mace but down low, "The ol'kneewhacker! Bahahaha!"

Sadly, it was his own knee that nearly got whacked!

Old Kneewhacker technique: Albricht Burghammer rolled 8 Meh!

Roak takes his blow gamely and strikes back at the most-wounded of the bugbears attacking him!

Hit a wounded bugbear, AC 4 for 5 hp!

21:19, Today: Roak The Quick rolled 5 using 1d8+2 with rolls of 3.  Damage.
21:19, Today: Roak The Quick rolled 13 using 1d20+2 with rolls of 11.  Sword on bugbear.

Voran continues his attempts to contribute to a combat, but again fails.

Ouch. Miss.

21:20, Today: Elder Voran rolled 8 using 1d20+2 with rolls of 6.  Come on VORAN! Sling.

Sherborne attempts to hold off the nearest beast.

08:18, Today: Sherborne rolled 5 using 1d6+2.  damage
08:18, Today: Sherborne rolled 13 using 1d20+2.  attack on bugbear.  hits AC4

Silverglade's stupendous swing kills the bugbear in a single stroke, inspiring what he hopes is both awe and fear in the remaining creatures.

<Remember to double your damage on a natural 20.>

Roak finishes the bugbear that had already been injured, and sherborne takes a chunk out of another, although it's still in the fight for the moment.

<Elboc, Lanliss, and Vsaati still have turns to take.>

Disappointed in her performance with the sling, Vsaati instead tried to aid Sherborne in close quarters by attempting to slip behind the bugbear and run her sword through its back.  Unfortunately her stealthy approach was ruined when she tripped over a pile of dirty cooking pots, unseen in the shadowy stretches of the cavern, and then panicked and tried to stab quickly at the beast, only to miss by  a wide margin.


OOC:

17:15, Today: Vsaati rolled 3 using 1d20+1.  Attack bugbear.
17:14, Today: Vsaati rolled 47 using 1d100.  Hide in Shadows (Backstab).

Lanliss grabs his sword, stepping into the melee to carve at a bugbear with elven precision.

07:19, Today: Lanliss rolled 7 using 1d8+4.  Damage Roll.
07:19, Today: Lanliss rolled 18 using 1d20+4.  Attack Roll.

Elboc takes a shot and hurts one of the bugbears fairly badly, although it's still in the fight.

07:25, Today: Dungeon Master, on behalf of Elboc Ice Eyes, rolled 6 using 1d6.  Damage Roll.
07:25, Today: Dungeon Master, on behalf of Elboc Ice Eyes, rolled 13 using 1d20+1.  Attack Roll.

The four remaining bugbears begin calling out, likely for reinforcements, while continuing to attack.

Albricht almost manages to dodge aside from one strike, but takes it on his shoulder.

07:29, Today: Dungeon Master rolled 2 using 1d8.  Damage Roll.
07:28, Today: Dungeon Master rolled 16 using 1d20.  Attack Roll.

Another lands a blow on Sherborne, solidly if not fatally.

07:30, Today: Dungeon Master rolled 3 using 1d8.  Damage Roll.
07:30, Today: Dungeon Master rolled 17 using 1d20.  Attack Roll.

Roak skips easily out of the way of another attack.

07:31, Today: Dungeon Master rolled 5 using 1d20.  Attack Roll.

A quick shout of, "Your shoelaces are untied!" followed by vigorous pointing down on Lanliss' part results in a total failure of the attack against him.

07:32, Today: Dungeon Master rolled 1 using 1d20.  Attack Roll.

Three more bugbears appear in cave openings, notice what is going on, and duck back inside.  Presumably they will be joining the fight shortly, and this results in an intense push on the part of the four remaining bugbears.

07:33, Today: Dungeon Master rolled 6 using 1d6.  Monster's Initiative.
07:33, Today: Dungeon Master rolled 4 using 1d6.  Party's Initiative.

Still, this doesn't result in a follow-up hit on either Albricht or Sherborne.

07:35, Today: Dungeon Master rolled 4 using 1d20.  Attack Roll (Albricht).
07:35, Today: Dungeon Master rolled 3 using 1d20.  Attack Roll (Sherborne).

Roak takes a hit only due to his lack of a shield.

07:37, Today: Dungeon Master rolled 6 using 1d8.  Damage Roll.
07:36, Today: Dungeon Master rolled 12 using 1d20.  Attack Roll.

And the stumbling reaction of Lanliss' attacker shows that it is still off balance from the elf's inexplicable shouting.

07:37, Today: Dungeon Master rolled 10 using 1d20.  Attack Roll.

<Whew!  Do it to it, guys!>

Roak is hurt badly enough that he misses.

Miss!

14:52, Today: Roak The Quick rolled 6 using 1d20+2.  Hit a bugbear.

Voran, sensing an opportunity, moves up to Roak and prays to the Lords of Law, who wipe out any evidence of the last hit on the halfling.

Cure Light Wounds cast on Roak, healing him 6 hp.
14:54, Today: Elder Voran rolled 6 using 1d6+1 with rolls of 5.  Cure Light Wounds on Roak.
This message was last edited by the player at 18:55, Wed 08 Aug 2018.

Wrinkling his nose at the smell of his foes and lesser-groomed companions, Albricht shifted to a different tactic. He began pounding at the bugbears toes like they were spikes in a mine cart track! If a foe couldn't stand he couldn't fight... at least that was this dwarf's reasoning.

Toe-tip Special (Magic Mace): Albricht Burghammer hits AC2 for 5 toe-smashing damage!

"Did you see my thrust? ask Silverglade of the party at large. "It would have slain a dragon. That's classic elven fencing, and you're lucky that I happen to be a master of it."

Buoyed by a lucky hit, he's too busy telling everybody how wonderful he is to pay much attention to getting another blow in.

23:08, Today: Silverglade rolled 7 using 1d20+2. To hit (sword +1).

Doing her best to help Sherborne even though her surprise had been spent, Vsaati slashed at the bugbear's legs, hoping to hamstring the beast.  Her swing was clumsy and ineffectual, doing nothing more than carving air where the enemy had been seconds before.


OOC:

19:55, Today: Vsaati rolled 11 using 1d20+1.  Attack bugbear.

Sherborne attacks the nearest bugbear with a bit more furry this time.

18:12, Today: Sherborne rolled 6 using 1d6+2.  damage.
18:12, Today: Sherborne rolled 19 using 1d20+2.  attack on nearest Bugbear.

Sherborne and Albricht, between them, drop another of the bugbears, leaving three.

Lanliss responds by brutally cutting into one of the remaining bugbears, nearly one-shotting it.  The creature wavers, near to death, but still just barely on this side of the void...

07:17, Today: Lanliss rolled 11 using 1d8+4.  Damage Roll.
07:17, Today: Lanliss rolled 13 using 1d20+4.  Attack Roll.

<Waiting on Elboc...>

In reply to Dungeon Master (msg # 302):


Lanliss blinks...and suddenly realizes as if for the first time that he’s in the middle of a combat.

“BAH! I’m blank as a fresh scroll! The blazes am I doing here? Something about a kid named Timmy? I -really- need to be careful with those mushrooms!”

OOC: New player saying HI!

Elboc draws another arrow and looses it at the injured hobgoblin, but to no effect.

07:08, Today: Dungeon Master, on behalf of Elboc Ice Eyes, rolled 9 using 1d20+2.  Attack Roll.

Still, the party is able to respond quickly to the changing shape of the battle, which is good, because the rest of the bugbears should be joining the fight fairly immediately.

07:08, Today: Dungeon Master rolled 5 using 1d6.  Party's Initiative.
07:08, Today: Dungeon Master rolled 4 using 1d6.  Monster's Initiative.

<Hit 'em hard and fast guys.  There's only three still in the fight from the original group, and a feather could take out one of them.>

In reply to Dungeon Master (msg # 304):

Lanliss swings his weapon on the final blow to the wounded bugbear.


10:33, Today: Lanliss rolled 13 using 1d20+4.  Attack Roll.

10:33, Today: Lanliss rolled 7 using 1d8+4.  Damage Roll.

"And STAY down!"

Albricht snorted as he overheard Lanliss somewhere in the cavern. "Elves. It's amazing they ever make it out of their egg..." He muttered.

The old water-finder, amazingly graceful for an ancient relic of the desert wastes, ducked and bobbed, weaved and dodged, ducking behind his shield from time to time as the need arose. The magical mace in his hand made a powerful swipe through the air at one of the bugbears...

Albricht Burghammer rolled a Natural 1...

...which connected with absolutely nothing bugbearish. He suddenly found himself sitting on the floor spinning slowly.

"HRRRUMPH!" He barked as he dizzily tried to regain his feet.

In reply to Albricht Burghammer (msg # 306):

Lanliss hears echoes of Albricht clattering to the cavern floor.

"Dwarves. I wonder how they manage crawl out of their caves..."
This message was last edited by the player at 15:45, Mon 13 Aug 2018.

The world seems to stabilize under Voran's feet as he springs back away and finally--finally--connects with a bugbear with his sling-stone!

Finally! Hit AC 2 for 4 hp, preferably on a wounded bugbear.

13:14, Today: Elder Voran rolled 4 using 1d4+1.  Damage!!
13:14, Today: Elder Voran rolled 17 using 1d20+2.  Fling a rock at a bugbear!

Roak, meanwhile, continues pressing the bugbears, but doesn't quite land the blow he wants.

Miss.
13:16, Today: Roak The Quick rolled 7 using 1d20+2 with rolls of 5.  Sword on bugbear.

Silverglade reaches over Roak and swings another savage stroke at the bugbear.

23:19, Today: Silverglade rolled 9 using 1d8+2. Damage (sword +1).
23:18, Today: Silverglade rolled 18 using 1d20+2. To hit (sword +1).

Once more Vsaati took aim at the bugbear nearest her, and once again it easily sidestepped her feeble swing.  Muttering something unintelligible but clearly unladylike, the burglar began to wonder if the sword she'd borrowed from Roak was cursed.


OOC:

20:18, Today: Vsaati rolled 11 using 1d20+1.  Attack bugbear.

Lanliss' strike just barely misses the bugbear before him, although the creature does seem to want to stay down.

Elder Voran and Silverglade dispatch one of the remaining bugbears as Elboc's arrow finishes the one at Lanliss' feet, leaving only one bugbear from the first group still standing.

19:34, Today: Dungeon Master, on behalf of Elboc Ice Eyes, rolled 20 using 1d20+2.  Attack Roll.
19:34, Today: Dungeon Master, on behalf of Elboc Ice Eyes, rolled 1 using 1d6.  Damage Roll.

<When we've gotten a response from Sherborne, we'll continue onto the monsters' turn.>
This message was last edited by the GM at 02:38, Tue 14 Aug 2018.

Sherborne attacks the last one standing hoping to help take it down.


00:32, Today: Sherborne rolled 6 using 1d6+2.  damage.
00:32, Today: Sherborne rolled 19 using 1d20+2.  attack on bugbear.

Sherborne's attack leaves the final bugbear from the first group about half dead.  Seeing its companions down, it turns to run, just barely preceded by the group that had been exiting the caves around the central cavern.  There are only five more of them, and none of them look ready to face the party that just killed six of their number without taking mortal wounds themselves.

<Would you care to pursue? If not, you can each take one ranged attack at they leave.>

“They’re not worth the waste of my arrows.”

As frustrated as she was with her blade, Vsaati couldn't stop herself from quickly dropping a stone in the pouch of her sling and whirling it overhead.  With a snap of her wrist she sent it sailing toward the injured, fleeing bugbear, searching for some salvation after failing to help so far.

But like the rest of her efforts, this one was all for naught.  The stone went low, and though it managed to bounce into the creature's leg on one hop it had no effect on the fleeing goblinoid.


OOC:

20:52, Today: Vsaati rolled 14 using 1d20+3.  Attack bugbear.  I officially declare myself an incompetent die roller on RPoL.  Sheesh!

EDIT: The gods inform me this is a hit!
20:32, Today: Vsaati rolled 4 using 1d4+1.  Damage to bugbear.
This message was last edited by the player at 00:32, Thu 16 Aug 2018.

Sherborne stays at the ready but does not give chase.

<Vsaati: that was the number you needed to hit them.  Roll me some damage.>

[In the Goblin tongue] "STOP! WE SPEAK? I TELL MY TRIBE NOT KILL. WE SPEAK?"

Albricht Burghammer stepped forward and dropped his magical mace into the worn loop on his belt. His shield he looped over his shoulder onto it's place on the pack he carried. From within his desert robes which covered a very nice outfitting of ancient Kingly platemail, his gnarled hand produced a handful of dried and seasoned mushrooms he'd pocketed from the hospitality bowl at the tavern. With the toe of his sandal, he scratched something of a circle on the floor, placed the fare into it, and then stepped back.

"Lower yer weapons lads," he muttered through sun-bleached whiskers to his companions.

[In the Goblin tongue] "TRADE FOOD FOR MUCH STORIES! WE SPEAK? WE HUNT FOR A 'TIMMY'... I TRADE FOOD FOR MUCH STORY OF A 'TIMMY'. YOU SEE? WE SPEAK?"

Albricht's Goblinese was pretty rusty, hadn't used it for a decade or two. Not many goblins frequented the desert wastes, preferring to live in places like this. He hoped the bugbears would understand his request, or point him to the nearest latrine, after all these phrases sounded much the same.

Elboc rolls his eyes as he hears the word ‘Timmy,’ but nonetheless lowers his bow.  The salty old dwarf had a plan, so he would play along.
This message was last edited by the player at 22:47, Wed 15 Aug 2018.

While it's quite evident that the bugbears understand Albricht, they continue to run, soon disappearing beyond sight in the darkness.

One of the bound humanoid forms on the ground begins thrashing and moaning, through a gag from the sound of it.

"BAH!" he bellowed. "Smelly brutes are only good for one thing! Pincushions!"

Albricht took his frustration out on the mumbling figure by giving it a none-to-gentle kick with his sandaled foot. "Eh? Speak up!"

Sherborne heads over to the bound figure and tries to remove whatever it is that might be blocking it's sounds and to see if any healing is needed.

The figure grunts in response to the kick and looks about wildly at the figures standing over it.  It appears to be a human male in his 50s.  As Sherborne removes his gag, the man begins to babble in a high, falsetto voice.

"Oh! Thank you so much for rescuing us!" he fairly gushes.  "Those dreadful creatures were so mean to us!  I tried to soothe them with some songs, but they hit me.  They HIT me!  And they put that awful, dirty rag in my mouth."

He pauses for breath, then motions with his head, to his left, at another of the bound figures.  "That's Timmy.  I heard her name when you were yelling at them."
This message was last edited by the GM at 01:15, Fri 17 Aug 2018.

Albricht quickly looked to see if the indicated figure indeed had both shoes...

Lanliss stares at the babbling man.

"...with songs? Are you a bard of some sort?"

Privately he thinks, "What have they DONE to him? Is he gelded?"

Lets the bugbears flee, being honorable. Hearing Timmy's name mentioned, he goes to un-bind Timmy.

Roak, meanwhile, searches first the fallen bugbears and then the room in general for valuables.