Albricht kicks open the door to find a passage that immediately turns to the left (west) and continues for about 50 feet, where a side passage joins it from the north and the passage also continues on.

Plathstream follows the hallway down, seeing if there are any secret doors or other surprises, poking the floor in front of him with his big sword as he walks and searches. He pauses to look down the side passage.

Plathstream moves to the side passage, looks down it, and finds that it goes for only about 20 feet before opening into an east-west "T" intersection, with a door at the center of the top bar of the "T" (in the north).

Plathstream waves the others forward. "Well, which way?"

Sherborne follows along weapon at the ready should things once again get interesting.

Whichever way you feel is the safest. You are in the lead.

Plathstream points down the original hallway. "Let's continue that way," he says and he continues down the original hallway.

The dwarf followed Plathstream who'd taken the lead. He kept one eye forward on the path ahead of them to the west, and the other eye on the walls, looking for hidden doors, niches and items of interest. It was just one of many conveniences of having a lazy eye...

Plathstream continues down the corridor to the next intersection.  There is another passage to the side.  It goes left (south) about 40 feet, then dead ends.  There is a door on the left at the end of the side passage.  The main corridor continues forward a bit more, then jogs to the right (north).

Plathstream moves down towards the north "jog" and peers around the corner first before going back to the others.

"Never cared much for jogging myself, ages one terribly. Which is never good if one is to live for a thousand years."

Lanliss hangs back while others do all the running around.

Plathstream finds that the northern turn goes about another 20 feet, then turns to the left (west).

Plathstream nods sagely at Lanliss' comment. "Very true, very true."

He relays what he has found. "Where should we go, gentlemen?"

In reply to Plathstream (msg # 13):

I venture to guess the makers of these tunnels have made them to lead to the same place, does it matter which direction we go? As long as we make certain we keep our rear clear of trouble.

"Agreed," says Silverglade. "We are as likely to find death or riches down either tunnel. Let us continue the way that Plathstream has already investigated."

The desert hardened dwarf paused a moment and turned to scrutinize Elboc in the cool darkness of the pyramid's twisting tunnels. "You come up with that yerself? There may be hope for you yet! Water flows downhill, even elves believe that, if I be not mistaken, so if we keep windin' our way downward, we'll be findin' it..."

Then Albricht leaned in closer so as not to embarrass his dark-skinned companion. "It's alright, I've heard elven digestion is sensitive. Once you get some water back in yer guts, that trouble with yer rear oughta clear up... and Sherborne's probably got some herbs or a prayer or somethin' that might help as well."

He gestured to Plathstream. "Lead on lad, pick a route that leads us down... water is down. Always down."

Can't hold everybody's hands all the time...

Plathstream's eyebrow shoots up. "I don't think Elboc needs you considering his rear, Albricht. Thank you."

He turns to the others. "Very well. We did pass a doorway or two further back, but we can return to those."

And with that, he follows the hallway, turning north with the hall, tapping the floor in front of him with his sword as he goes.

   At the Dwarf's words, Elboc looks him in the eyes, then slowly turns to the others and catching them each in his gaze, gives a small squint, conveying the thought that he is not sure what just transpired, and then returns his gaze back to the Dwarf, whom has already turned to continue his travels. Elboc, stunned at the stout figures comment, shakes his head, and motions the others forward, By all means, let us continue, down, always down.

At hearing the mention of his name Sherborne chimes in, "I am not quite worthy these days.  Perhaps someday I might have some ability to heal folks.  In this case however I am not seeing anything out of the ordinary that would need such attention."  Sherborne continues with a little squint and muffled brow a little concerned at where this might lead.

After the turn to the left (west), the passage continues for another 20 feet, then turns left again (south), then he can see that it goes for another 70 or 80 feet before turning right (west).

Plathstream and the rest find no additional traps, door, or other hidden features within this stretch of corridor, although the dust on the floor is a bit thicker here.

Plathstream continues to march down this way unless his colleagues tell him to stop, following the far western turn. He makes sure to keep the whole party in sight of him the whole time.

Silverglade looks at the dust for any signs of footprints or other disturbances.

As Silverglade is looking for additional tracks in the dust, and just before Plathstream gets to the corner, the shimmering, ghost-like figures of a man and a woman appear before them.  They are dressed in costly clothing, and both wear golden crowns.  The man raises his hand and gestures for the party to stop.

"Go no further," he warns, "lest the curse of King Alexander overtake you!"

"I am Queen Zenobia," the woman says.  "Turn back; only death awaits you!"

Plathstream is unnerved, but manages to stand his ground in the face of the ghostly figures, but Silverglade does not fare so well and begins to run in panic (2 turns).

Plathstream stops and looks at the others.

Not really expecting an answer, Sherborne gives it a shot anyway and asks the ghosts, "Why is it cursed?  What will happen - I mean besides death?"  He shrugs a little hoping for some sort of response.

As Silverglade turns to run past him, Elboc steps forward to see what has transpired, looking upon the two ............

True to his icy name, Elboc keeps his cool seeing the ghostly figures, but Sherborne, on realizing the object of his questions, panics just like Silverglade, and runs from the sight of them (2 turns).

  Your Highnesses, Slight bow To which form of death are you referring? And being the King and Queen here, can you give us safe passage, so the we may leave these grounds?

"What got into them?" the dwarf asked when two of his companions started backing away down the hallway...

Albricht poked his head around Plathstream to see what the fuss was all about.

Albricht sees the unnerving sight of the immaterial figures, but maintains his composure quite handily.  The figures do not respond to Elboc, but do begin to slowly fade away.

huh,.. No interaction, maybe a spell to scare off the weak willed? Mayhaps there is nothing beyond but something to protect. Shall we regain our comrades and continue my stout willed friend? Looking to Albricht, he makes a motion towards the others that had run away.

Plathstream advances a bit further, slowly tapping the ground in front of him. "Yes, go recover the others. I am going to make sure the rest of this hallway is not trapped."

In reply to Plathstream (msg # 32):

I will do so, keep the stalwart Dwarf and check further, but go not so far we lose contact heading back to ascertain the whereabouts of the companions.

Seeing one of his companions turn tail and run off at the sight of a ghostly apparition Lanliss prepares to stop him. But when Silverglade is almost immediately followed by Sherborne the elf backs away and lets them go. Only when Elboc offers to go get them back does Lanliss follow, knowing they had best work together.

The fleeing characters make it back to the room above the one with the coffin and ramp before managing to pull themselves back together.  Lanliss shortly finds them there, most likely quite chagrined by their actions.

Gathering his senses, Sherborne is concerned that he fled from the types of things he supposedly should stand up to, but sees it as a test.  "Well, I guess we are going back to press on?"

Having followed Lanliss and at the foot of the ramp, he notices they have stopped running, Well, have you come to your senses and thought to rejoin the group? Or are you finished and leaving us?

Silverglade looks decidedly crestfallen. "Did nobody else see the goblins that crept up behind us? he asks. "I dare say those shades were intended as a distraction. It's a good thing I was alert enough to chase them off."

With a wary glance around, he asks where the ghosts are now.

In reply to Silverglade (msg # 38):

uhhh.. Yes, ...goblins, it must have been the training you wood Eli's have detecting them. Very nice job indeed, and the shades were there to distract, well then, I humbly beg your forgiveness for falling for their trap.
 Turning, Elboc heads back down the path.

"HHRRRUMPH!" Albricht snorted in a tone quite unlike he'd previously used in expressing that most utile of words in the dwarven tongue. He shuffled in a small circle, not unlike a surprised hen, sans nervous clucking of course, but soon scooched further ahead, back and side-to-side, suspecting that this apparition might be some sort of triggered effect.

"Gotta be somethin' interesting ahead. Just we better be on the lookout." With a nod at those still in the vicinity he tentatively continued exploring.

Plathstream was already a step ahead of the dwarf, tapping the floor with his sword and continuing down the same path.

Sherborne rejoins the group trying to must up as much will as possible in response to the encounter with the ghosts.  If nothing else, he is wiser for it.  His hammer is at the ready gripped tightly as he tries to steel himself against the next possible danger.

The group pulls themselves back together and continues down the corridor, past where the ghost-like figures had been.  Albricht continues to search for a triggering mechanism, but finds none.  The corridor goes past the turn to the west, continues for another 10 feet, turns north (going back as far north as it had previously gone south, then makes a sharp turn first to the east and then south, continuing to an apparent dead-end.  None of the party members find anything that seems like a secret door or trap of any sort, and the dust here is ages-thick, with the tracks being current made as the only ones in sight.

Silverglade immediately begins searching for a hidden door.

Silverglade performs his search, but finds no secret door.

The party appears to be at a dead-end.  None of the other party members are able to find a secret of concealed door at the end of this twisting passage.

Silverglade scratches his head. "Back down the corridor, I guess" he says. "Unless we can change this as we changed the other corridor..."

Sherborne tightens his lips in frustration as much from the current dead end as the previous experience with the ghosts.  "How odd that they would scare folks out of an empty dead end hall.  But I suppose it's not worth too much time spent.  If we are missing something it's seems to be beyond us at the moment."

Plathstream shrugs and heads back the other way, looking for another route.

He goes and listens at the southernmost door.

Plathstream moves to the southern door and finds that the door to this room is scorched, as is the end of the corridor.  The outline of a man-sized humanoid form is etched in to the scorched wall section.  The door to the room is slightly open, but not enough to see into the room.  There is the faint sound of ripping and tearing coming from inside of the room.

In reply to Dungeon Master (msg # 50):

<OOC>.... ripping and tearing, ???? clothing, parchment?? or flesh?

<It's hard to tell, but some of it might be cloth...>

Disgruntled by the idiocy of the architects at even building such a dead end, Albricht stumped back along the route his troupe had taken, finally giving in to the apparitions being some sort of joke of the dead royal Jester. Perhaps this place was just a big, elaborate playhouse, though the dwarf had never heard tales of any Jester Kings in this region's past. It was a mystery and Albricht made a mental note to look this Jester up in whatever afterlife followed this... and thoroughly throttle him!

Following just behind Plathstream, the dwarf cocked an ear to the door to listen to the tearing noises. He absently passed a hand over a lingering patch of tender skin from their last encounter with fire beetles. He didn't really wish to repeat that experience, but he also didn't want to leave a swarm of the fell beasties behind them...

Kneeling down so his companions might shoot over his head, he shouldered his crossbow and nodded to Plathstream to open the door.

"We can nail'em to the wall from here. No use getting sprayed all over again... Ready lads?"

Roak readies his shortbow as well, keeping well away from the door.

When everyone is ready, Plathstream will open the door, springing back.

Sherborne waits, hammer at the ready.

readies bow and attitude.

Silverglade readies his sword and shield and takes his place at the front with the other melee fighters.

With a final nod from Vsaati, Silverglade opens the door.

Along the walls are paintings of a priest performing ceremonies.  On a raised dais in the middle of the room lies an open bronze sarcophagus.  Here, three hideous, beast-like humanoids are tearing a mummified body apart with their sharp claws.

<The party has surprise.  Declare actions, please.>

In reply to Dungeon Master (msg # 59):

  Elboc Drops his bow and plus his sword, he starts to run in to attack..

  <if he makes it to one of the ghouls, he attacks..


22:44, Today: Elboc Ice Eyes rolled 13 using 1d20+2.  Attack, Sword.
22:44, Today: Elboc Ice Eyes rolled 6 using 1d6+2.  damage, sword.


hitting an armor class 4.

The dwarf's gasp and subsequent silence were proof enough that the humanoids were not what Albricht had been expecting. He remained silent long enough to send a bolt down range before he began backpedaling from prior comments regarding Fire Beetles.

"...and if any of you had waited but for a moment, I could have told you that the tearing sound we were hearing was similar to, but notably inconsistent with, those made by previously encountered Fire Beetles! Instead we have these, these... THESE!"

Albricht Burghammer rolled 13,4 using d20+1,d6 ((12,4)). Hit AC 6.

Albricht's bolt catches the hideous creature just before Elboc gets to it, doing enough damage that the stroke of Elboc's sword finishes the thing.  The smell of decay begins to permeate the room, coming from the no-longer-moving body.

Two remain.

Keen to make up for his earlier shameful display with the ghosts, Silverglade throws himself at another monster.


22:10, Today: Silverglade rolled 15 using 1d20+1.  Attack (sword). Hits 4+
22:11, Today: Silverglade rolled 3 using 1d8+1.  Damage (sword).

This message was last edited by the player at 22:13, Thu 21 Jan 2016.

Sherborne attempts to attack one of the Ghouls but his hammer catches the foul air instead.

---

19:57, Today: Sherborne rolled 8 using 1d20+1 ((7)).

Plathstream strides up confidently to the ghouls and strikes one hard.

Move up, hit AC 3 for 7 damage.
1:08, Today: Plathstream rolled 7 using 1d10+1.  Damage on ghoul.
21:08, Today: Plathstream rolled 16 using 1d20+1.  Attacking ghoul.

Roak, meanwhile, tries to shoot the ghoul that Plathstream strikes.

HIts AC 7 for 6 damage.
21:09, Today: Roak The Quick rolled 6 using 1d6+1.  Arrow damage.
21:09, Today: Roak The Quick rolled 12 using 1d20+1.  Arrow on ghoul.

Silverglade and Plathstream neatly take out another of the creatures between them, and then Roak and Vsaati take another out at range.  The three creatures cease moving that there does not appear to be another immediate threat in the area.


19:42, Today: Dungeon Master, on behalf of Vsaati, rolled 3 using 1d4+1.  Sling Damage.
19:42, Today: Dungeon Master, on behalf of Vsaati, rolled 18 using 1d20+3.  Attack Roll (Sling).

<Roak forgot about his +1 to missile combat, as a halfling, which was enough to hit.>

  Well,.... we seem to be getting better at this, yes? ::chuckling , he moves to the alter and looks about:: We may survive this after all. At least I know I will, Smiling, he cleaned his sword then replaces it in its scabbard.
 After checking out the alter and the surroundings, he retrieves his bow and the arrow he left on the floor at the threshold of the door.

Albricht crept into the room after his companions, shouldering his crossbow and gripping his warhammer. "Never trust these sorts of dead undead... Ye can just never be sure they'll stay dead!"

He backed his way up next to Elboc and the alter and then risked a quick look over his shoulder, giving every indication he expected the ghouls to jump back to their feet and attack any moment. "Anything interesting?" he whispered to the dark elf.

As Elboc looks over what he had thought to be an altar, he notices that it had a lid.  That lid has been pushed off onto the floor, and what looks to be the remains of a mummified body, badly shredded, lies inside.  Glinting from inside what now appears to him to be a sarcophagus are a jeweled necklace and two gold bracelets.

Plathstream smirks. "Don't be overconfident. The overconfident is usually the one to die first through the mysterious door."

He searches the perimeter of the room.

In reply to Dungeon Master (msg # 70):

In reply to Dungeon Master (msg # 70):

  hmm... well? No water, but I think I just found something that you may be interested in dear friend. Take a look here, on the neck and wrists of the deceased. Are we collecting for the group or individuals on this expedition? I will give to the group treasure bag, the necklace and one bracelet, but shall keep for myself the other bracelet. If this is acceptable to the others? he reaches in and pulls out the items, handing the two items to the Dwarf, he pockets the other. Looking to the others that this is acceptable .

Albricht snorted and tried to look as if he were indifferent, however his whiskers belied his interest in the items as they stood out on end. "Water's worth more than baubles, ye've got that right... but I suppose that bracelet does match your outfit..." The sarcasm was thick.

"We'd best throw all our treasure in the common pot and split it up later, because if we don't find water, there isn't going to be a later!"

The dwarf again utilized his lazy eye, putting the defect to good use as he examined the scorch mark while keeping the dead deadly undead under surveillance...

"Trinkets, mere trinkets," remarked Lanliss as Elboc lifted the baubles. He kept an eye on the corpse though, for these things had the unfortunate habit of not quite being dead yet, in places as strange as these.

"Our little chum here is right, let us press on before we all become desiccated husks, like that poor sod."

"I would advise a little bit of caution when taking trinkets off of dead people.  One never knows what has been bestowed on such things." , Sherborne offers a shrug.

Plathstream makes a pass around the perimeter of the room, but finds nothing of additional note.

Albricht looks over the scorch mark on the wall, but aside from the fact that it appears to be humanoid in shape, there is nothing else to distinguish it.

In reply to Sherborne (msg # 75):

yes, trinkets, but we may need the trinkets to buy something as mundane as water in the future. We need e everything  we can get. Never know.

Albricht was about to reach for one of the "trinkets" when Sherborne gave his warning. His scarred, grasping hand hesitated and his poky-whispered lips made a silent "O" shape. He cocked a bushy eyebrow and said carefully to the dark elf, "You go ahead and keep hold of those for now. We'll just make a note of it in the ledger... so to speak."

The dwarf replaced his warhammer to it's loop, and then reloaded his crossbow, motioning to Plathstream to continue their exploration of the corridors. "Lead on lad, cool water awaits..."

In reply to Albricht Burghammer (msg # 78):

Looking to the Dwarf as he speaks, Elboc shrugs and gathers all of the jewelry from the corpse. Waiting for thw dead to move to take rhem back, he hurries away as he stuffs rhwm into one of his bags. Readyin his bow again, he follows the movements if those that arw searchin the room until they are ready to move on.



<OOC> Soory about the spelling, was on the highway and typing on phone while wife was dodging semi trucks. lol
This message was last edited by the player at 03:18, Tue 26 Jan 2016.

Plathstream stands watch and keeps a half an eye on the halfling, who seems nervous.

Roak pokes his head out and nods down the hallway. "Come on, let's head this way."

He heads down the short unexplored hallway and peeks around the corner...

Headed down the 20' hallway to the north and looking.

Silverglade follows Roak, sword and shield ready.

Silverglade and Roak head up the 20 fool long corridor to the north.  A closed door stands in front of them at the end of the corridor, and passages continue to the left (west) and right (east).

To the left, the passage goes for another 20 feet, then turns north.

To the right, the passage has a northward branch about 10 feet away, then a door about 50 fee away, and it turns to the south after the door.

Sherborne stays close hammer at the ready.

Elboc walks with the group, bow at the ready.

Silverglade listens at the door at the end of the corridor.

Silverglade doesn't hear anything from beyond the door.

Plathstream calmly tries to open the door.

Plathstream opens the door to find himself looking into a 40 foot by 40 foot room.  A mummified human in plate armor and holding a halberd stands at attention against the west side of the south wall.  Grouped around the mummy are nine skeletons, also holding swords.

Plathstream quickly closes the door and describes what he saw to the others.

We seem to be finding all sorts of dead people here,  the undead fighting over a corpse, the jesters room, if not the jester himself, the King and Queen, now this warrior and what? His troops? I'm thinking all these dead things want us to join them. I'm not sure we can fight what was it ? Ten ? In there? Shaking his head, he stows the bow and arrow he has ready, and plus a sword. Arrows do naught against these things, ready your loins.

Silverglade doesn't think this is an appropriate moment to be doing anything with his loins. But that many undead, immune to sleep spells, would be a tough fight. Instead, he walks to the other door to listen.

"Yes, that is probably best to leave it.  I might be able to hold some skeletons at bay, but a mummy?  Not so sure about that one", Sherborne adds shaking his head.

Silverglade moves to the eastern door and listens, hearing rustling and faint squeaking beyond it.

"Rustling and squeaking? Must be Dwarves - Albricht!"

Roak roars in laughter. "Squeaky dwarves! That's funny! Good one, Lanliss?"

Plathstream sighs. He advances to the door. "Everyone else ready yourselves--sounds like rats or some such creature. We can deal with them first, I think."

Silverglade positions himself to the side of the door, so that he won't be seen by those inside, but can swipe at them as they rush out.

Sherborne readies his hammer and stands off to the side as well.

Rats you say?? well devils be damned, sword is no good there for me, back to bow. Elboc switches from sword to Bow. again.  and moves to the rear, directing a couple to give him a corridor for first shot when the door is opened, and will holler at them that he is ready to fire again after his first is in flight.

Plathstream, by contrast, trusts in his sword. He opens the door as soon as the others are ready.

Roak is more of Elboc's mind and prepares his bow.

Vsaati indicates her readiness, bow in hand, and turns to check on Albricht.

The bowstrings creaked above him as he squatted and readied his crossbow. He'd only get one shot off in the confines of the hallway, and so positioned himself so that the weapon could be easily discarded out of everyone's way and so that he could reach his warhammer to charge in after the initial volley.

"Hrrrumph!" Albricht gave the signal he was ready.

Plathstream smirks and then opens the door!

The door opens into a room that is 20 feet east-to-west, and 30 feet north-to-south.

This room appears to be empty except for an odd-shaped mound in the southwest corner of the room.  Rustling and faint squeaking noises seem to come from the mound.  A giant, three-foot-long rat's face appears from the mound, it notices the party, and begins to quietly nose around the outside of the mound.

Plathstream steps into the room so everyone else can see and to see what the rat does.

  Elboc Steps to a line of sight and shoots.

  Rats !! foul creatures! He aims....

20:23, Today: Elboc Ice Eyes rolled 6 using 1d20+2.  Attack, bow.
20:22, Today: Elboc Ice Eyes rolled 6 using 1d6+2.  Arrow Damage.

  Loading another arrow, he readies the shot.........

Assuming that the rats will come running Sherborne takes a protective position near the front and attacks any rats that rush the group.

The only good rat was a dead rat, in Lanliss's eyes. And so he set his eyes on the rat and sought to stick it with an arrow from his bow. Incredibly, his arrow connected with Elboc's arrow in mid-air, and they both missed.

13:59, Today: Lanliss rolled 7 using 1d20+1.  attack roll, longbow.

The rats don't seem to react to Plathstream being in the room, and the two arrows that went wide cause them to flinch momentarily as they shatter in the room, but otherwise they don't seem to be aggressing.

Plathstream shrugs and starts circling the room, looking for secret doors and anything else of interest. If the rats become aggressive--even if provoked--he moves to attack them.

Silverglade decides to switch to his bow and show the rest how it's done. He fails miserably with an arrow that goes wide.


22:25, Today: Silverglade rolled 7 using 1d20+1.  Attack (Bow).
This message was last edited by the player at 23:10, Wed 03 Feb 2016.

 Well, maybe the Dwarf would like to try to shoot one? Looking at Albricht, holding out his bow with a big grin. ..............

The dwarf snorted in disgust at his companions' lousy marksmanship. He leveled his crossbow and took careful aim at the largest of the rats. "Irksome vermin..." he muttered with questionable specificity as to the object of reference. With agonizing slowness, he gently p-r-e-s-s-e-d the firing mechanism. The flexed arms released, the string twanged, and the bolt sped towards it's mark...

Albricht Burghammer rolled 15! Hit AC4.

 After the shot the Dwarf made, Elboc figured to continue his friendly, (friendly? where does that word fit in here with these ...these ..well, new friends.) banter, HHRRUUMMPH, lucky shot Master Dwarf.Lucky shot. At the rat's taking of the arrow, and the noise and thrashing, Elboc hurriedly readied another arrow, taking aim....

21:23, Today: Dungeon Master, on behalf of Albricht Burghammer, rolled 5 using 1d6.  Weapon Damage.

The giant rat squeaks its last as Albricht's bolt pierces it.  The other rats react with alarm and move to attack.

21:25, Today: Dungeon Master rolled 5 using 1d6.  Players' Initiative.
21:25, Today: Dungeon Master rolled 1 using 1d6.  Monsters' Initiative.

<I've run this free-form, but we're going into combat now.  The party has initiative.  Give me hit rolls and damage and we'll see where this goes.>
This message was last edited by the GM at 05:27, Thu 04 Feb 2016.

Sherborne moves to attack the nearest rat.

---

23:33, Today: Sherborne rolled 3 using 1d6+1.  Damage.
23:33, Today: Sherborne rolled 18 using 1d20+1.  Attack on nearest rat. hits AC0

 Ready as fast as he was, Elboc shoots again...


21:35, Today: Elboc Ice Eyes rolled 16 using 1d20+2.  Attack, bow.  a hit !!!
21:34, Today: Elboc Ice Eyes rolled 5 using 1d6+2.  Arrow Damage.


_{Foul creatures}

 readies another arrow!!

The sun-weathered dwarf lowered his crossbow and glared at the dark elf dangerously. "Lucky? Bah! Like you could do any bett-errrm..." The wild eyes widened beneath his bushy brows as he saw Elboc's nice shot. With a snort, Albricht shuffled through the door and grasped his hammer in his gnarled hands. "I'm too old for this..." he muttered with a sidelong glance at the smirking Elboc.

"Get'em lads!" He said, stepping out of the way to allow the younger members of the party a chance to practice up a bit.

Sherborne and Elboc each skewer a rat, ending its life, but the mound in the corner continues to produce more...

Plathstream, seeing this, sighs, steps up and slices at a rat

Nat 20 for auto-hit, minimum damage :-) 2 hp.

14:30, Today: Plathstream rolled 21,2 using 1d20+1,1d10+1.  Attack on rat.

Roak curses and fires at a rat but hits garbage instead.

Miss (nat 1).
14:32, Today: Roak The Quick rolled 2,3 using 1d20+1,1d6+1.  Roak arrow on rat.

Fidgeting and offering questionable advice, Albricht finally could wait no longer to "...show ye lads how this is done..." He charged ahead with his warhammer and attempted to slam one of the rats.

Albricht Burghammer rolled 8

The colorful epithet which burst forth from the sun-bleached whiskers might have curled the pointy ears of all the elves in the party were it not a nasty dwarven slang!

Stepping to a clear shot....loose!!


12:12, Today: Elboc Ice Eyes rolled 10 using 1d20+2.  attack!!!!  bow.
12:12, Today: Elboc Ice Eyes rolled 5 using 1d6+2.  damage  arrow .

Silverglade puts his bow away, considering a curse on it the only possible explanation for his poor aim. He then charges in against the rats. His sword arm shows truer aim as he strikes a hefty blow.


22:59, Today: Silverglade rolled 14 using 1d20+1.  Attack (sword).
23:01, Today: Silverglade rolled 8 using 1d8+1.  Damage (sword).

Sherborne swings at another one.  "Hopefully we don't contract any diseases from this", Sherborne adds under his breath.

---

19:48, Today: Sherborne rolled 2 using 1d6+1.  Damage.
19:47, Today: Sherborne rolled 9 using 1d20+1.  Attack on nearest rat.

Plathstream and Silverglade kill rats with an arrow and a sword blow, respectively.

19:07, Today: Dungeon Master, on behalf of Vsaati, rolled 11 using 1d20+3.  Attack Roll (Sling).

Vsaati's sling stone goes wide.

<We're waiting on Lanliss before the rats go.>

After such a lousy shot Lanliss opted for what he did better, namely dropping his bow and going at the rat with sword and shield. Then he tripped over his dropped bow and made a complete hash of his latest attack.

15:24, Today: Lanliss rolled 6 using 1d20+2.  attack roll, sword.

With the squeaking frenzy found almost exclusively in rodents, the rats attack Lanliss, Sherborne, Silverglade, Albricht, and Plathstream, managing to bite Lanliss (3 HP damage) and Plathstream (1 HP damage).

19:50, Today: Dungeon Master rolled 19 using 1d20.  Attack Roll.
19:52, Today: Dungeon Master rolled 3 using 1d3.  Bite Damage.

19:51, Today: Dungeon Master rolled 18 using 1d20.  Attack Roll.
19:52, Today: Dungeon Master rolled 1 using 1d3.  Bite Damage.

Players, it is your turn again.  Five rats remain.

Sherborne attacks the nearest rat again.

---

22:19, Today: Sherborne rolled 3 using 1d6+1.  Damage.
22:18, Today: Sherborne rolled 13 using 1d20+1.  Attack on nearest rat. hits AC 5

Sherborne swings, pulverizing a rat completely.

Another shot!!!!   He Shoots, he....


23:35, Today: Elboc Ice Eyes rolled 11 using 1d20+2.  Attack, bow.
23:35, Today: Elboc Ice Eyes rolled 3 using 1d6+2.  Arrow Damage

Albricht's footwork stuttered when Sherborne uttered the "D" word. His eyes, though always a bit wild, seemed to widen further as a particularly ratty... erm... rat, snarled in his direction. The aggressive posture of the dwarf's follow-on attack changed entirely. He held his hammer much like a human princess might delicately grasp a long stick in order to poke at a belligerent spider. His comedic overhand swing seemed tentative as if to avoid the chance the rat might make contact or blood might splatter upon his weather-worn person.

Albricht Burghammer rolled 21,6 (Attack,Damage)

Though the swing was that of a dainty old elf-wife, by some miracle it hit with a satisfying "Splortch!"

 Albright's attack and decimation of the overly burdened with growth hormone rat seemed to have shown the others that the only way to properly dispatch of the, un-kept-ugly-shambling-smelly and not too pet-like creatures, was to be afraid that they might actually get their fang-like teeth into a leg and cause horrendous sickness. Elboc however believed the Dwarf to be hiding skill and tenacity, and only letting it out when he has a chance to show the rest of the group a thing or two..

Silverglade swings at another rat, whilst holding his breath so that his delicate nostrils don't inhale any foul odours.


20:24, Today: Silverglade rolled 5 using 1d8+1.  Damage (sword).
20:23, Today: Silverglade rolled 14 using 1d20+1.  Attack (sword).

Plathstream swings almost lazily at a rat, but misses.

4:53, Today: Plathstream rolled 8,6 using 1d20+1,1d10+1.  Attack a rat!

Roak stows his bow and draws a blade, ready to leap in if the rats survive this round.

Albriche and Silverglade both completely obliterate the rats in front of them, leaving only two still alive.

<Vsaati will go last, and we're still waiting on Lanliss and (if he jumps in this round) Roak>

Roak is not jumping in yet.

Vsaati takes aim and skewers the next-to-last rat with an arrow.

07:42, Today: Dungeon Master, on behalf of Vsaati, rolled 5 using 1d6.  Weapon Damage.
07:42, Today: Dungeon Master, on behalf of Vsaati, rolled 18 using 1d20+3.  Attack Roll.

The old dwarf drew his dagger across the bottom of his tattered and threadbare desert cloak, cutting from it, just enough to use to clean the rat-gunk from the head of his warhammer. "Nasty bit of work there."

He tossed the cloth into the corner of the room and then turned to fetch his crossbow. "Alright lads, finish up, I've taken care of most of'em for ya..." His discomfort belied his casual confidence.

In reply to Albricht Burghammer (msg # 142):



  Hmmm. tough work it was Master Dwarf, you do us an honor of being with us on this grand adventure.. Elboc readies another arrow....

"Hrrumph! Aye, well, that is..." Albricht gave Elboc a sidelong glance to make sure he wasn't being set up for some joke. His tired feet shuffled a bit in a manner of humble embarrassment. "Well, things tend to turn out quite well when my wise counsel is heeded. Perhaps there's hope for some of you to survive this yet!" Despite the facade of arrogance and bluster, the corners of his eyes softened a bit as several of the myriad of desert inflicted wrinkles disappeared momentarily.

Turning so the Old Dwarf wouldnt see his half  smile... You would do eell to keep your own advise then, you seem to do better with us than without us.

In the midst of the banter, Lanliss moves in and dispatches the final giant rat.

07:24, Today: Dungeon Master, on behalf of Lanliss, rolled 5 using 1d8+2.  Weapon Damage.
07:24, Today: Dungeon Master, on behalf of Lanliss, rolled 19 using 1d20+2.  Attack Roll.

Plathstream salutes. "Nicely done, Lanliss," he says, wiping off his blade. He then searches the rag pile for valuables.

Sherborne moves near the door hammer at the ready while the others search the rat hive for valuables.  "Let's hope nothing else crawls out of that mound."
This message was last edited by the player at 19:48, Tue 09 Feb 2016.

As he searches through the filthy pile, Plathsteram finds 300 GP and five gems, aside from the general nastiness that one would expect in a rat nest, but much larger.

Plathstream announces this and puts the treasure in his pack for now. Searching the perimeter of the room once more to ensure that there are no other ways out, he heads out and investigates the western passageway, peeking around the corner to the north.

Moving to recover his, and his fellow travelers' arrows, bolts and dropped weapons, Elboc searches as well and when he is finished, he returns the ammo not damaged to their owners.

The old dwarf puffed his cheeks, the air whistling briefly through his whiskers as he did so. He nodded toward the dark elf in gratitude for returning his bolt. When Plathstream jingled his find, Albricht's chin whiskers quivered a bit at the melodious sound of treasure, but his wearied eyes softened as he licked his dry lips with a leathery tongue. "C'mon lads, we need to find water..."

He reloaded his crossbow and resumed his place just behind Plathstream.

Silverglade examines his bow for cracks or warps. There can be no other explanation for his poor shooting. With a sniff he follows his companions.

<I forgot to show that the passage turned to the south, just east of the door to the rat room.  Check the map update and let me know if you're still going north.>

Still going north, yes.

Plathstream finds that the corridor turns to the north, runs for about 30 feet, then turns to east again, passing out of sight.

He follows this down, peering around the eastern corner.

 Taking up the rear guard again, Elboc is again ready with bow, and take the liberty of making sure all is ok with his fellow adventurers.

Sherborne keeps his hammer at the ready and stays near the front.

Silverglade has a couple of practice swipes with his sword. He's ready for the next challenge.

Plathstream moves north, the others following close behind and ready.  He finds that the corridor turns to the right (east), and goes for another 90 feet, at which point it turns to the right again (south).  There doesn't appear to be anything other than dust in the hallway.

Plathstream returns to the others and tells them what he has found.

Albricht nudged Plathstream a bit with his warhammer. "Carry on lad. We're gettin' drier with every step. I'm right behind ye!" He glanced back over his shoulder. "Unless anybody else would like to be, that is. You youngsters, don't be holding back now. Don't be afraid to just get right in there..." As they marched down the corridor, the old desert-dried dwarf continued to search for clues in the stonework as he offered sage advice on the virtue of courage.

"Just keep walking, Shorty...we like to be able to keep an eye on you. And we wouldn't want to get knocked aside by a rushing dwarf should any gold appear around the next corner..."

Sherborne stays near the front, hammer at the ready.  "Certainly we appreciate the encouragement regarding courage and I certainly won't discourage you from enlighting us."  Sherborne give the Dwarf a wink before giving his attention back to the dusty hall, clearly enjoying the entertaining banter.

Ready and willing, Elboc smiles at the friendly banter towards his friend the Dwarf. And follows the group onward.

Albricht mistakenly took the nods, winks, nudges and smirks of his companions as encouragement and began to really get into the lecture. He held them up for a moment, borrowing a bit of chalk, and began to scratch some obscure diagrams on the ancient stone wall of the corridor.

"...but another of my kin, a long-shanked dwarf named Maslow Clearhelm, a loreseeker - who also raised very delicious tomatoes by the way - observed that hungry bellies and thirsty throats often drive one toward desperation. Now then, desperation is not courage, but it's a good substitute. So those of you lads who're having trouble finding your courage, fall back on desperation!"

He made a few more indecipherable marks on the dungeon blackboard before stepping back and placing his hands on his hips as if the strangely runed chart before him held the answers of the very universe.

"See?"

Seeing some blank looks, Albricht hefted his warhammer once again. "Don't fret it lads, I don't expect ye to understand it all in one lesson. Took me decades as a youngling, but some of you don't have decades, so I'd suggest spending some solid personal study time on this subject... but for now we'd best find something to drink!"

In reply to Albricht Burghammer (msg # 167):

  Standing, while the dwarf was busy making indiscriminate scribbles on the wall, Elboc let the slow smile of humor and enjoyment grow on his face. The Dwarf knew of what he spoke, surely , but the rest of his companions knew not of which he spake. Well then, that was greatly enlightening, thank you, shall we continue now? before the false courage turns to despair? Raising his arm in pointing the way forward in a gesture of allowing the Dwarf to lead on, he waits for the rest of the group to follow suit.

Sherborne looks at the scribbles briefly.  "yes, hmmm, I like what you have done here, good.  Oh yes, I see that now.  Good, nice, ok.  Hmmm.  I am totally with you on that despair thing.  I will have to see if the Gods, concur, should they answer."  Sherborne muses a bit longer and then indicates he's ready to continue.

   Aagin, smiling at the humor the group has allowed the dwarf to instill in each other, Elboc does something very uncharacteristic , he slaps the Dwarf on the shoulder as he walks past, Come on Master Dwarf, let us under dwellers lead the way this time, mayhems you can enlighten me was to your knowledge of despair and desperation?
  He stows his bow and returns the arrow to his quiver, and pulls one of his swords in readiness. heading toward the front of the group.

Plathstream, meanwhile heads back toward the south, then west and then to the north, looking to see what lies down the hallway that way.
This message was last edited by the player at 13:45, Thu 18 Feb 2016.

<I'm a bit confused here.  I don't see a way for you to head north after heading east, assuming that Plathstream is at the red X.>

Thats right gm. He said he would go south, then east, then north, then he can look to the east agai. Wait, thats west? Right?  Ok never mind.

The Burghammer family had survived decades, centuries in the harsh desert, and perhaps over that long time the blazing desert sun might have had some effect on them. It was possible that they might have been a few drops short of a full waterskin... but this particular day, the present representative of the Burghammers felt as if he were surrounded by creatures whose skulls were filled with sand!

"Hhhrrumph!" He sputtered, not exactly sure where his lecture had gone of track, and thus unable to determine where he might lead it back to the point. Considering the number of elves in the party, he finally just puffed his cheeks in defeat. He'd never meant for his pupils to leap right past courage and immediately embrace desperation! He scratched his sun-bleached head, still thinking he'd missed something somewhere.

And then Plathstream began milling about, changing his mind for some reason and causing a pileup of adventurers akin to a herd of sheep milling around and around a pen yet missing the gate. "What now? Has yer East gotten swapped with your Soggy Waffles?"

"Get ahold of yerselves lads! We'll find water soon enough, don't let the thirst addle yer brains!" Time was growing short, delusions and confusions were the results of dehydration, the old water-finder knew this well. The dwarf grabbed Plathstream by the belt and pulled him into line behind himself and Elboc as they made their way to the true east and around the corner to the south.

Silverglade moves east to look down the passage as it turns south.

I wrote the wrong direction. Please see my edited post # 171. South, then west, then north after heading west.

Plathstream quickly looks up and around the corner of the western passage, which only traveled 30 feet north, then turned to the west for 80 feet, and ended in a closed door.  Albricht and the rest grab a hold of him and drag him around and down to the east, turning south.  The southern passage heads straight south beyond the limit of vision, with doors to the east, and possibly a passage back to the west in the distance.

<Game map updated.  Current position marked by a red X.>
This message was last edited by the GM at 15:44, Thu 18 Feb 2016.

Plathstream goes back to Silverglade to see what he found out. "Well, which way appeals to you more?"

Albricht licked his lips, prepared to begin the next lecture in the series regarding Methodical Approaches to Subterranean Delvination and Exploriatium, but realized he'd misplaced his chalk. Patting himself down thoroughly revealed several other items of interest, but none of them were chalk. "Maybe I left it back there... Oi! Plathstream! Let's go back the way you wanted to go, I seem to have left my chalk somewhere. Maybe we'll find it along the way, and it won't hurt to examine that door you mentioned..."

The dwarf hefted his warhammer and fell in behind Plathstream as they headed back toward the northwest... his good eye watched where he was going, his wanderer swiveled to and fro in search of his lost chalk.


OOC: Sorry, OCD tells me we should go back where Plathstream was headed before we pulled him back. That dead-end back there is bugging me!

Elboc agrees with the Dwarf and Plathstream, but not anything to do with chalk.

"Ahh, yes we should go back for that.  I hope no one...stepped on it", Sherborne muses as he follows the group back to the dead end.

The party backtracks west, then turning north and then west again, proceeding tapping the floor in front of him and then listening at the door to the west.

Near the door, Albricht inspected the scene for traps and tricks.

Having found no traps or other unusual features in the corridor, and coming to the door, which is closed, Plathstream listens for noises from beyond it.  He hears an occasional and faint scraping, but nothing else.

Plathstream waves the others to him and explains what he has heard.

Albricht readied his crossbow. The tact the crew had taken previously had worked well against the rats and the ghoulish ghoul-creatures. He knelt down beside the door so his companions could aim over his head. "More rats I suspect!" he whispered.

"Perhaps", Sherborne replied quietly as he moves up and readies his hammer.
This message was last edited by the player at 20:04, Mon 22 Feb 2016.

Silverglade readies his sword and shield, rather than his faulty bow.

Roak grumbles about rats and how much he dislikes them, and then gets in position to shoot anything he sees attacking from beyond the door.

When everyone is in position, Plathstream opens the door.

Plathstream opens the door to find a 40 foot by 40 foot room before the group.  This room has scenes of warfare painted on the walls.  It also has a large wooden sarcophagus standing upright along the south wall.  Painted on the outside of the sarcophagus is the picture of a warrior in armor.  Squatting on each side of the sarcophagus is a large white ape with white fur.  As they catch sight of the party, the two apes begin to bare their teeth and beat their chests, hooting and growling in a menacing way.

Upon eying the apes fercently beating thwir chests, Elbic steps bac, this may require some strength and guile, i do not wosh to fight these beasts, i ha e never seen such a creature. What ? And how  do we fight such monstrous beings

"Not rats. Furry yes, but definitely NOT rats!" Albricht explained.

Plathstream very calmly steps out and closes the door, bracing his back against it. "Well, if we had food of some kind we could give them, we might calm them down."

"Especially if that food were laced with poison," suggests Silverglade. "I don't suppose any of you have some, do you?"

"Well, maybe a few iron rations, but no poison", Sherborne muses.

---

ooc, I think we are out of water for sure, but I don't remember what was said about food...

"Nope. Not rats..." At the mention of food, the old Burghammer's eyes lit up.

"Those critters need to drink something... Either they've got it in there, or they wander out from time to time. If we could follow'em or track'em, we could find where they water..." His look suggested he'd just solved another of the Universe's vexing problems.

Then the desert weathered dwarf held out his hands and opened wide his eyes. "Hold it! I've got another idea! Sec-tenth one today if I'm not mistaken..."

"I've got a hammer and some spikes. If one of you lads's got a bit of rope, we could make a trap! Then we could wrangle those... those... not-rats, and we could tame'em! Yes, lads, I think we could use a few henchmen like those... erm... not-rats in there."

In reply to Albricht Burghammer (msg # 197):

So??? We have time to tame these,.... Creatures, not-rats as you say, but no time to waste and need to find water? Am I getting the message you are giving us master Dwarf? I'm afraid I'm not sure you are in the same room as us, did you see those things? I'm not sharing what supplies we have with them.

Albricht scratched at his pokey white whiskers. Darky's got a point he mused to himself. But I'll burn Balin's Bones before I admit it!

"Not so much tame them as herd them rather..." the dwarf returned. "We could use them to trample down any untoward traps we might encounter or shove them into other rooms to soften other denizens up a bit. Don't think so narrowly Eyce-Aye. Ain't any of you elves got a spell or some such? I'd do it myself, but..." He tapped the strong gnarled finger against his head to remind them of his unfortunate suffering in the big one of '75.

  Well, I have something, not sure it will work on.... these.... things.... but I could try, It may however just prove to annoy it. but I'm willing to try it if you all can cover me on it's reaction?? He looks to each of the stalwart cohorts he standing among...

Plathstream nods at this. "I like this idea better than taming the apes. What did you have in mind, Elboc?"

"Sure, give it your best.  I'll be over here", Sherborne steps aside jokingly and then readies his hammer.

In reply to Sherborne (msg # 202):

  well, it's just a missile, a mage dart, we call it. it will not do too much damage, but may help in the long run. But I really do o think it will do more than upset the poor creature. And then it would be poor US. He waits to hear from them on whether they would like hi to try. although he's certain it will not harm them.

"Maybe like a noosey sort of trap... maybe?" Albricht demonstrated by taking one of the tassles of the Gormish robes they were wearing and wrapped it around his own neck, making choking sort of faces. All the while still maintaining a hopeful attitude.

In reply to Albricht Burghammer (msg # 204):

  I agree master Dwarf, I think you should try that, I'll distract one while you sneak up on the other,.... and put that on it's neck. Showing a hopeful expression on his face, like... "It'll work, I know it will, go ahead".

Plathstream sighs. "Or we could just leave this room and come back another time."

Roak is listening quietly to this. Suddenly, his eyes light up and he snaps his fingers. "The robes! Do we have any of the robes or masks from the men on the upper level?"
This message was last edited by the player at 22:49, Fri 26 Feb 2016.

"You think they'll be docile with us if we're dressed like their owners?" asks Silverglade.

Roak nods. "That's the idea! Or attack us. One or the other." He grins as only a halfling can.

Albricht sighed, looking down at himself and pulling at the Gormish attire they'd clad themselves in earlier... "Ye mean like these lad?"

They were all getting a little punky from the lack of water it seemed, and the gnarled old water seeker had to admit that it might, possibly, maybe, perhaps be affecting him as well.

"Tell ya what lads. Let's use all the ideas... I'll hammer in a few spikes, one of ye can run a bit of rope, and somebody can step in there and see if they respond to our costumes... didn't sound like it the first time though. If things go completely orcish on us, then we can run back out. When the critters follow, we'll pull the end of the rope and give'em a goblin necklace!"


OOC: As I recall, we've been wearing the get-up of the Gorm dudes since we left them up a couple of Tiers. Well you all did, I wasn't Albricht then, someone else was. ;-)

Clothes line em eh?  Sounds like a plan", Sherborne adds with his hammer ready to smash them.
This message was last edited by the player at 03:20, Sat 27 Feb 2016.

  An idea for the ages master Dwarf, or .... for today. Smiles again, and stows the sword, readies the bow and arrow, oh, i shall also have the mage dart ready if one of them charges, that will be the one I attack, the first one that charges.

"Hrrumph!" grunted the old water-finder, as if he'd known all along the idea would be a big hit. He quickly dropped his pack and rummaged for his spikes and hammer. As he approached the doorway, he briefly squinted up at the archway and realized the first of the flaws, errrm... that is, unresolved details, of his plan. He wasn't tall enough to reach!

Turning to Sherborne he motioned. "Well lad, lend us a hand here. Hunker yerself down and I'll stand on yer back in order to hammer in these spikes!" He stood with his hands on his hips waiting.

In reply to Albricht Burghammer (msg # 213):

  here's another idea, have a taller member of the group....do.....it....for....you. . Just. Thought.

"Ha, well, how about what he said", Sherborne replies looking at Elboc.  "This hammer will do."  With that Sherborne goes about the task of hammering these spikes.
This message was last edited by the player at 01:17, Sun 28 Feb 2016.

Albricht did his best to hide the twinkle in his eye when Elboc stepped forward to offer. "I uh... Aye! Of course I could do it myself, but then ye lads wouldn't learn anything. Here, take my tools, mind that hammer now, and... that's it, no, a little to the right, no, your right, that's it..."

Whether the dark elf had ever been instructed in the art of lodging spikes into the cracks of stone or not didn't matter. School was now in session and the gnarled old water-finder proved once more to be a thorough schoolmaster, insisting that Elboc hold his hammer just so and tilt the spike in just such a way... the criticisms were more than the compliments of course, but when he was done, the dwarf gave on final and hearty, "Hrrrumph!", which even those unacquainted with the subtleties of that most-useful of dwarven expressions, would recognize to be a compliment.

"Now then, who's got the rope?"

Plathstream pulls out the rope. "Make it so, master dwarf."

To the taller elf, Albricht continued to direct, inform, instruct, teach, lecture, mentor and oversee. "Aye, right through that one, uh-huh, and then the other... not bad Plathsream, twist the end a bit where it's frayed to get it through, there, that's it, and down over here and... Hrrrhumph!"

Now that the rope was down on the dwarf's level, he demonstrated a proper grip and talked them all through the rest of the plan.

"What say ye lads? Are ya ready to give it the old War Academy try?"

Silverglade draws his sword. "I'm ready, master dwarf."

Sherborne nods and readies his hammer.

    Elboc has spell ready, and bow ready, ready  Master Dwarf.

Albricht blinked a few times.

"Yes! Ahem, well then, Ready? Setty? Go! Plathstream... the door!"

The water-finder wrapped the rope around his wrist a few times so that it wouldn't be lost, and then he brought his crossbow to bear, ready to fire through the open door and then draw the rope when the time was right...



I'm assuming that we're standing down the hallway in order to draw the monsters out. Not sure how long your rope was, but if we made it to the corner, it looks maybe 100'? Otherwise, I guess we'll do the best we can. So whoever opens the door, will need to run back to the group (and hopefully none of us will have an itchy trigger finger!) ;-)

Plathstream's rope is 50'. Anyone else have 50' rope?

Sherborne produces another 50' of rope.

Albricht nodded as Sherborne produced another hank of rope. "Aye, we can't be too careful. Safety first and so forth. If ye can't be safe, at least be... far enough away from a rampaging suitor!" He applied a particularly fancy dwarf-knot and then backed everyone up to the corner at the end of the hall leading to the door.

"All right then lads, this is it! Plathstream, you draw'em out and then scramble back to us. I'll haul on the line when they come through the door and see if we can't give one or both a goblin necklace!" There was an excited glint in the old dwarf's eye. A good and clever sort of glint, not the half-crazy glint of a water-deprived, sun-addled madman... well, at least in one eye that is.

Plathstream executes the plan, stepping in and slowly approaching the creatures. As soon as they show signs of hostility or pursuit, he flees back through the door...

Plathstream is barely inside the door when both of the creatures leap to attack him, throwing rocks from previously concealed piles.

19:32, Today: Dungeon Master rolled 18 using 1d20.  Attack Roll.
19:32, Today: Dungeon Master rolled 13 using 1d20.  Attack Roll. (Hits AC 3)

Both rock strike him, for a total of seven (7) points of damage.

19:33, Today: Dungeon Master rolled 4 using 1d6.  Weapon Damage.
19:33, Today: Dungeon Master rolled 3 using 1d6.  Weapon Damage.

The creatures will be taking their turn, now that the surprise round is done.

19:35, Today: Dungeon Master rolled 6 using 1d6.  Monsters' Initiative.
19:35, Today: Dungeon Master rolled 5 using 1d6.  Players' Initiative.

Seeing that Plathstream is down, they rush past him, hooting and screaming, charging the rest of the group.

<I'll give those holding the ropes one chance to down them, and if that fails, I'll be making attack (and possibly damage) rolls.>
This message was last edited by the GM at 03:38, Sat 05 Mar 2016.

The grin on the old dwarf's face vanished as he saw the elf pummeled with stones! "TAKE THE ROPE!" he shouted to Elboc as his short legs began churning toward their downed comrade! He felt Elboc's hand holding the back of his borrowed robes however and stopped as the realization began to sink in. He grabbed onto the rope with the elf and pulled with all his wiry muscles as they attempted to rope the apes!

OOC: Running to get to Plathstream and drag him back. Albricht has good AC and the most HP, so he may survive ...

Edit: Pulling on the rope trap instead after reading the DM edit for the post above... Still not sure how the DM would like to handle that. ;-)
This message was last edited by the player at 07:05, Sun 06 Mar 2016.

 As the creatures start to attack Plathstream and Albricht responds, Elboc Casts the Mage Dart (magic missile) at the creature in the lead, the right one.


20:43, Today: Elboc Ice Eyes rolled 3 using 1d6+1.  magic missile.

  he then grabs the rope, and hollers at the Dwarf, You damn fool, get back here! They'll be on you before you can get him.!!!

Sherborne attacks the closest one with his hammer.

---

23:38, Today: Sherborne rolled 11 using 1d20+1.  Attack Roll.
23:39, Today: Sherborne rolled 5 using 1d6+1.  Damage.

Silverglade quickly wades in, thrusting his sword at the strongest-looking of the beasts.

08:40, Today: Silverglade rolled 8 using 1d8+1. Damage (sword).
08:40, Today: Silverglade rolled 15 using 1d20+1. To hit (sword).

Roak shrieks in terror and shoots wide of an ape.

09:41, Today: Roak The Quick rolled 6,2 using 1d20+1,1d6+1.  Arrow, damage.

Albricht hauls on the rope as the two creatures rush past, neatly clothes-lining both of them and knocking them to the ground, if only temporarily.  This gives enough of an attack advantage that Sherborne's somewhat-wild swing strikes home, just after Elboc's spell slams into the beast, and Silverglade follows up with a vicious thrust to its exposed belly.  The beast switches from angry screaming to pained whimpers, almost at the end of its life, but its compatriot is still in the fight and scrambling back to its feet.

<We'll check initiative again after Lanliss and Vsaati take their attacks>
This message was last edited by the GM at 23:33, Sun 06 Mar 2016.

Vsaati, seeing one of the creatures at such a disadvantage, quickly dives in with her dagger, finishing it.

21:08, Today: Dungeon Master, on behalf of Vsaati, rolled 5 using 1d4+1.  Weapon Damage.
21:07, Today: Dungeon Master, on behalf of Vsaati, rolled 12 using 1d20+1.  Attack Roll.

"A plan made by a Dwarf that did not work? Imagine my surprise..."

A somewhat angry Lanliss takes his sword to task against the nearest beastie. Unfortunately getting angry really didn't help in this situation.

13:40, Today: Lanliss rolled 10 using 1d20+2.  attack roll, sword.

Apparently disoriented by the loss of its compatriot, the party get another shot at the creature before it can get back to its feet and respond.

07:24, Today: Dungeon Master rolled 2 using 1d6.  Monsters' Initiative.
07:24, Today: Dungeon Master rolled 3 using 1d6.  Players' Initiative.

<The dice have favored you. Let me know what you're doing.>

Sherborne attacks with his hammer.

---

09:31, Today: Sherborne rolled 10 using 1d20+1.  Attack with hammer.  Hits AC8
09:32, Today: Sherborne rolled 7 using 1d6+1.  Damage.

Having dropped the rope, Elboc's arrow is drawn and released as Vsaati dispatched the first creature....

07:40, Today: Elboc Ice Eyes rolled 17 using 1d20+2.  Attack, bow.

 HA! A solid hit!!!

07:40, Today: Elboc Ice Eyes rolled 6 using 1d6+2.  Arrow Damage.
 He readies another arrow.....
This message was last edited by the player at 23:23, Tue 08 Mar 2016.

Silverglade once more thrusts hard with his sword, but this time his aim is not so good.

22:13, Today: Silverglade rolled 8 using 1d8+1.
22:13, Today: Silverglade rolled 11 using 1d20+1. Attack (sword).
This message was last edited by the player at 22:14, Tue 08 Mar 2016.

Elboc's arrow pierces the creature, but it's a long way from finished.

Albricht drew his hammer as he charged the remaining critter. He was very concerned for the fallen Plathstream and so due to the circumstances he decided to use an abbreviated form of the effective 5D Dance of Death the dwarves of his clan were so famous for. Instead he settled on a quicker 3W technique.

Warm up swing, "...tight confines, large beast, so noted..."
Wiggle feet into place, "...shoulder width apart, heel to toe..."
WHAM! "That's for the Elf!"


Attack: Burghammer rolled 14 using 1d20+2 ((12)). Hit AC5.
Damage: Burghammer rolled 4 using 1d6+2 ((2)).

Albricht's blow notably rocks the creature's world for just a moment, its eyes going crossed, but it shakes it off.

Roak continues wasting shots, missing the beast again...

12:35, Today: Roak The Quick rolled 9,4 using 1d20+1,1d6+1.  Shortbow, damage.

Vsaati darts in with another dagger thrust, damaging the creature, which is looking steadily worse.

19:24, Today: Dungeon Master, on behalf of Vsaati, rolled 3 using 1d4+1.  Weapon Damage.
19:23, Today: Dungeon Master, on behalf of Vsaati, rolled 15 using 1d20+1.  Attack Roll.

<We're waiting on Lanliss at this point, and then the creature, if it's still alive, will have its turn.>

"Get in there lad, use that pretty little sword! Mind the swipes, don't be shy now!" Albricht attempted to encourage the elf in spite of the rude comment he'd made about his plan.

Lanliss grabs his chance and dives in with his sword, making a neat end to the creature.

19:04, Today: Dungeon Master, on behalf of Lanliss, rolled 6 using 1d8+2.  Weapon Damage.
19:04, Today: Dungeon Master, on behalf of Lanliss, rolled 18 using 1d20+2.  Attack Roll.

Vsaati, seeing that the creature was no longer a threat, rushed to tend to Plathstream, managing to stave off the grip of the grave, but leaving Plathstream in dire condition.

<Plathstream has stabilized at zero HP, but can be revived with rest and/or healing magics.>
This message was last edited by the GM at 02:07, Wed 16 Mar 2016.

Roak gives Plathsream a pained look and then shouts at Albricht, "Next time, YOU go in first, you with your bright ideas."

He goes and searches the room for anything valuable.

With the exception of the (unopened) wooden sarcophagus, there seems to be little else in this room, aside from some piles of stones the creatures had for throwing.

"Well, we survived it anyway.  I love it when a plan comes together."  He winks at the Dwarf.  "It was a little fun at least."

Albricht clomped his way over to the wounded elf, right behind the others, the concern obvious on his lined and sun-worn face. He watched as Vsaati worked on him a bit to keep him from crossing into the great beyond or the fluffy gray whatever-they-call-it. He grunted when he saw the gentle rise and fall of the chest, barely a movement there, but there it was.

He stood then and went to retrieve the rope from the dead apes. As he made slow coils, he considered the rebukes of both Roak and Lanliss. He nodded his head and mumbled to himself as the inner dialog wasn't quite as inner as it ought to have been. He took his mallet and began to loosen the spikes that had been used to set the trap with, continuing whatever discussion between, quite possibly, several personality iterations of himself, in mumbles and grumbles. Head shakes too, there were many of those accompanied by nods, shrugs and the occasional Hrruupmh! Oh how expressive that most useful of dwarven expressions!

When he'd gathered his spikes and returned the ropes to their owners, he met the gaze of his accusers, and for the moment, his wild eyes were synced up and oddly... serious.

"It was a good plan. That is apparent. That is without question." Albricht said in a sage tone. He gestured to the dead bodies of the apes and the badly damaged, but still breathing, elf. "Lad there's got some scrapes and bruises, but elves tend to mend up well enough."

Albricht stepped closer and said quietly, "When the warthog is scornful, the clenching screams frenetic... My father taught me that, and I've never forgotten it... and the two of you shouldn't either." The bushy, sun-bleached brows met dangerously together for a moment before they relaxed into an expression of timeless long-suffering toward wreckless youth.

"Somebody help me breakdown this sarcophagus so we can make a litter. Lad's gonna need some rest, and he's too tall for me to pack around by myself!"

Discretely, the lazy eye winked back at Sherborne...
This message was last edited by the player at 05:33, Wed 16 Mar 2016.

"Perhaps we should check that the sarcophagus is empty before we break it up," suggests Silverglade. "I can open it if you're ready to attack anything that comes out," he suggests.

"I can back you up", Sherborne adds.  He walks over and having never put his hammer down in the first place, it's ready.  Twirling it in his arms he adds, "This might actually help you in that task."

i am ready as well, be about your business. He stands  ready with bow and arrow.

Silverglade opens the sarcophagus, hoping that it's empty.

Silverglade easily moves the wooden top off of the sarcophagus.  Inside he finds a suit of plate armor with what appears to be a mummified body inside of it.  The hands are clasped together near the top of the chest and on the hilt of a sword that sits on top of the body, point toward the feet.  The armor seems to be a bit dull, but the sword gleams as if just polished.

  As Silverglade deals with the sarcophagus, Elboc tends to the wounds of his compatriot. No healer or skills in such things, other than the aid he can render as someone trying to help. He binds the words to help staunch the flow of blow, and helps him to feel comfortable.


.... He can only hope it helps.....

Albricht began to gather up the parts of the broken sarcophagus in order to use them to make a crude litter to lay the downed elf upon. His whiskers though... they pointed out on end and he got that sort of wild look in his eye as he tried to gawk casually at the sword gleaming among the remains. A glance back at the prone Plathstream helped to keep his treasure-madness in check.

"I propose we give the sword to sleeping beauty here. After all, he sort of earned it..."

The old dwarf knelt down and began lashing the boards together while Elboc worked on Plathstream.

"Not sure how to split up the eyeballs. They should be eaten whole, and raw... There's only four of them and more than four of us. Who's feeling crampy? Headaches?"

Roak's face turns three colors of green. "I'll pass, thanks," he mumbles. "And, yeah, give the sword to Plathstream. When he wakes up."

You can my share Master Dwarf, I'm not too hungry, not for that meal anyways. But, thank you.

"Neither of ye grew up in the desert did ya?" Albricht asked, though he already knew the answer to that question when they turned down his offer.

"It's not a meal, though there might actually be some nutrition, and you're right, it ain't about taste neither. The eyeballs have salt, which we all need as much as water. If we don't keep the salt and water balanced in out bodies, the desert will claim us... probably what happened to that one, not enough salt." The old water-seeker gestured toward the desiccated body which had been inside the sarcophagus. "Trust me, I wouldn't eat them either if it was simply a choice. But we're not faced with a choice down here lads. We're faced with survival. Hrrumph!"

He returned his attention to his lashings.

In reply to Albricht Burghammer (msg # 261):

If thats what your thinking then there must be more than just the eyes that can be used for nutrition.  What rlse have yiu in your bag of tricks?

"I could try it I guess.  Then if I hurl someone else could share it also." Sherborne looks around as if to find a good place to collect it.  "Anyone have a bowl or something?"  Sherborne keeps his demeanor (mostly) serious.

Silverglade picks the armour up and turns the breastplate upside down. "Try this," he suggests.

Albricht finished the litter and then produced a very sharp dagger. With an expert motion he dug out the eyeballs from the apes' skulls and handed them to Sherborne.

"If ye cook'em, much of the salty liquid will be lost. Not much for it lad, you just gotta eat them raw. Try to crunch it open with your teeth, and don't swallow it whole, nay, that won't do you any good. Anyone else need some salt?"

As Silverglade unlatched the armor from the corpse, the old dwarf looked it over curiously.

OOC: Would it fit a dwarf? Does anyone else want platemail?

<The armor is sized for a human, but could fit an elf.>

"Eh, you first.  I want to see how it's done", Sherborne replies with a wink and folding his hands behind his back not actually accepting the obvious delicacy.

"Suit yourself then..."

Albricht cocked one eyebrow and reached up to pinch his nose with one hand, making an overly resolute sort of face, and popping the eyeball into his mouth with the other. There was a bulge in his white-whiskered cheek, and he chewed vigorously for a few moments before swallowing it all in one huge gulp. Finally, he licked his teeth and lips noisily.

"That's how it's done lad. Won't be seein' these muscles cramping up any time soon!" He did a bit of a shuffle to prove his point.

"Your turn." The dwarf held out one of the remaining eyeballs to the cleric. "Just do it quick, that's the key..."

<There really isn't a mechanism in the rules for doing this, but your suggestion will work well enough in this instance.>

Sherborne is not deceived by Albricht's ruse, although there is definitely some amusement value in it.

"Pfft, never mind", Sherborne responds shaking his head not really being clear about whether or not he noticed.

Seeing his quarry turning away, Albricht ground his teeth. "So be it then... I'll put them in my pouch here and if any of you get to feeling crampy or light-headed, we'll still have them on hand... y'know, just in case."

"Alright then lads, let's fortify this door and hunker in for a break. Either Plathstream will come to, or perhaps another elf will pop up from around the corner..." Albricht eyed each of the elves with a distrustful wild-eyed stare.

<If the consensus is that you're all going to stop and rest, I'll calculate and distribute XP, and give you the chance to heal somewhat.>

Agreed. We're stopping and resting.

Agreed, stop and rest

Albricht puffed his cheeks, then slowly raised one bushy eyebrow. "All in favor of resting here for a bit, say 'Eye'..."

Sorry couldn't resist!

  At the Dwarf's jest, Elboc looks at him with a sidelong look, before a slight smile touches the corners of his lips, and he rolls his eyes before turning away to pick a spot for the night.

[6 blank lines suppressed]

_{me neither}

"Well, I am sure no one doubts whether or not you have an eye for a good resting spot."  Sherborne smirks.
This message was last edited by the player at 02:48, Thu 24 Mar 2016.

Roak groans in abject terror and proceeds to itemize their loot again, consoling himself that if they ever get out of this mess, he will have survived the worst puns with a few coins.

Plathstream awakens with a start two hours later. "Horrors! I was unconscious! How do you younger races cope with that! Too much like death."

He winces as he stands. "Thank you for tending to my wounds. I am grateful for your help. Did you defeat the beasts?"

The Burghammer dwarf crouched down and looked over at Plathstream. "Hhrrrumph!" he grunted, "Plan worked flawlessly, just as I'd intended. Too bad you slipped and hit yer head, next time be just a bit lighter on your feet... You lost a lot of blood lad. Here, eat this, it'll restore your salt... good for the blood and so forth."

From his pouch he produced one of the ape eye-balls and handed it casually to the injured elf. "I saved ya one, had to be sneaky about it too! There were only four and everyone wanted one. So go ahead, eat up."

The elf grabs the dwarf's wrist in an icy and surprisingly strong grasp. "You are a liar. I do not appreciate lies. If you want to avoid a taste of my blade, you will stop pretending that you didn't nearly get me killed." His eyes are cold.

With the seriousness of the elf's tone, that of Albricht Burghammer changed as well. "Alright, you want the truth? The truth is that you were the one who nearly got yourself killed! Don't blame your getting clobbered in the noggin' on me, I couldn't be both places at once. If you had a problem with the plan, the proper time to bring that forth would have been before you tried to catch stones with your face lad. That's the truth of it. Facts are that the plan worked well. There are two dead apes, got the eyeballs right here to prove it! There's always risk, just rolling out from under one's rock in the morning can be hazardous. Don't go gettin' all emotional on me now, I had you figured for a more solid sort of elf than that... So aye, I lied a bit, you wouldn't have believed it anyway, and if ye had, your sour-frowned kin-folk here would've been quick to point it out. Relax Plathstream, you're drawin' breath and we found a good, secure place to hole-up."

"By the way, that sword there ought to more than make up for it! Finely crafted blade it is, not a mote of dust nor speck of rust do defile it! But, if ye'd rather pout and get worked up about obvious gnome-fibs meant to lighten the mood down here, then maybe somebody else ought to wield it! Hrrrumph!"

After a few moments, the bristly whiskers relaxed and the dwarf grumbled an apology. "Yer a good lad, a bit careless back there, but that's been the only time. I'm glad ye popped out of where ever it was ye came from before we found ya. I might have thought that part of the plan though a little more carefully and so forth..."

With a challenging sort of glare at the rest of the party, as if daring them to speak up about any sort of softness from a dwarf, he motioned with various gestures that he was ready to go and that camp ought to be struck, water and food found, and the road to glory eaten asunder by the hungry soles of dwarf-boots.  Either that or he really needed to relieve himself and was asking for some privacy...

"Although it's hard to agree with a dwarf over an elf, there's nothing to be gained by arguing amongst ourselves," says Silverglade. "We're all still drawing breath, and we need to be able to rely on each other when things turn nasty. So prize your new sword, Plathstream, and the comrades who protected you when you were injured."

"And next time, let the dwarf go first," he adds with a wink.
This message was last edited by the player at 20:09, Tue 29 Mar 2016.

In reply to Silverglade (msg # 283):

Aye, Plathstream, enjoy the breath you draw and the weapon you wield, and yes, let the  Dwarf lead.

Plathstream nods. "Apology accepted. Let's see where we go next."

He next leads the party up to the northeast, following the eastern passage to the north around until it turns south.

Albricht subtly returned the offered eyeball to his pouch, certain a time would come for use. He fell in behind Plathstream, eager to discover further mysteries of this ancient place. As they passed by a door, the dwarf paused briefly. "Did we look in here yet?"


OOC: Door about 5 squares down from the top and about 17 squares from the left of the map... Did we check in there yet?

Sherborn just rubs his brow at the little war of words and barely shakes his head.  It was inevitable that someone would get annoyed sooner or later.  Now that it's over he's happy to let the Dwarf go ahead.

Plathstream pauses to look at the room...

Seconded, did we go in that room already?

Pausing to reflect, the members of the group do seem to recall that they had looked beyond this door previously.  The layout comes back to them slowly:

Plathstream winces. "Ah, THAT room. I recommend we come back to that room."

  Ah... no, I think he's right, later , for that room.
 Looking Plathstream in the eyes, he nods hi affirmation of PLathstream's comment.

If nobody objects, then, Plathstream next leads the party up to the northeast, following the eastern passage to the north around until it turns south.

Sounds good to me.

fine with me

The group moves to the north and travels east, turning the corner to the south to find that the passage continues for about 80 feet south, and ends at a closed door.

<Game map updated.>

Plathstream advances to the door to the south and listens at it.

Plathstream hears nothing while listening at the door, but he does notice some flickering light from the room beyond, coming from under the door.

Somewhat subdued by the earlier exchange, the dwarf plodded along behind Plathstream - who seemed to be feeling much better now - and considered how he might work out the rope trick on the room they'd left behind... He nearly ran into the elf who was crouched with his ear pressed to the door.

"In my very professional opinion, I believe we may find some sort of lightsource beyond this door," Albricht whispered as if to a gaggle of apprentices. "I know this from the flickering coming from beneath the door. Something I should point out to all of you, and is an often overlooked clue. Good trick to keep in mind."

The dwarf readied his crossbow. "Well let's see who it is and what they've cooked for us! Open it up someone!"

Plathstream looks at the dwarf with a cocked eyebrow to match the dwarf's cocked crossbow. "Truly, your powers of observation are astonishing," he says very calmly.

He nods at the others. "Prepare yourselves. Elboc, would you open the door this time, please?"

Roak gets his shortbow ready and steps back away from the door, a good 15' back.

  Aye , I will. Once again stowing the bow and freeing his sword from it's berthing, Elboc Stands to the hinged side of the door....  He looks at each in turn, and at their nods of readiness.....With his free hand he grabs the latching mechanism, and pushes the door in and stands to the side in case any of them needs to loose an arrow.....

Sherborne stands ready with his hammer.

Albicht nodded humble acceptance of the well-placed compliment. "Give it time lad, in a century or two you'll get the hang of these sorts of things as I have. That's why I'm here after all, to learn you youngsters the ropes."

When Elboc positioned himself to open the door, the dwarf made ready by shifting into his customary and highly trained low-ready position. Elbow high, bring the crossbow up to the eye - don't lower the head - hard focus on the front sight, and... about seventy-two percent press on the firing lever...

Elboc opens the door to find that beyond it a sarcophagus rests on a dais in the center of the 30 foot by 30 foot room.  The dais is 10 feet square.  From each corner of the dais rises a slender, six foot tall column.  The tops of the columns meet the corners of an arched dome above the sarcophagus.  On the dais at each end of the sarcophagus is a brass jar from which flames dance.  Finally, the walls of this room are painted with scenes from the life of a noble lady.

Also, there is another door to the right (west).

"Ha! What'd I tell ye?" the dwarf whispered, gesturing with his crossbow toward the flaming brass jars.

In reply to Albricht Burghammer (msg # 305):


   Noticing none of his companions fired into or ran away from the room.... Elboc looks aiund the edge of tge door and sees the sarcophagus and flaming urns.. at Albricht's comment, he looks at th Dwarf, smiles  and relaxes, but only a bit, as rhe rooms in this place have held surprises at every corner.
  He waits for the members of his support team  to  move into the room Before following them in. He stops at the threshold of thw door, I will stand at the door o cover our backs until we move further on

Plathstream moves in and walks around the perimeter of the room, searching for secret entrances and otherwise searching the room.

Sherborne moves into the room and keeps an alert watch as the room is searched.

Plathstream makes a circuit of the room, but is unable to find any secret or concealed doors.

<Plathstream: You said that you are otherwise searching the room.  Are you doing this from around the perimeter, or are you searching anywhere more specific?>

Albricht followed the others into the room, but was drawn toward the burning jars. He was careful to pay attention to his steps and important body parts so as not to trip any traps! He also inspected the ceiling for any enemy or falling danger, and finally let his gaze take in the noblewoman's murals.

As Albricht's questing eyes take in the burning jars, he notices that there is a smallish brass cylinder tucked behind one of them.

Plathstream is really just searching the perimeter, leaving the rest of the interior of the room to his allies.

Roak, though, goes to check out the sarcophagus.

Roak finds that the lid of the sarcophagus shows signs of having previously been opened, with tool marks and damage where the lid meets the body.

Roak points this out to the others. "I think we should leave it alone," he suggests.

"Perhaps we could have our  resident thief check it out?" suggests Silverglade.

"Hmmm..." Albricht carefully inspected the brass cylinder more closely. When he was satisfied it was not trapped, or worse, the trigger for a trap, he picked it up to inspect it. "What've we got here? A container of the fuel that runs these flames perhaps?"

Vsaati quietly clears her throat, brandishing her toolkit, and making somewhat pointed eyes at Albricht.

Plathstream sighs. "Put that down, Albricht, before you kill yourself. Vsaati, please inspect it for traps."

Vsaati quickly and quietly steps in, searching around and near the cylinder, the urns, and the sarcophagus.  It takes a few minutes, but, after observing and probing about, she declares, "No traps as far as I can see," and backs away, tucking her tools back into her kit.

Plathstream nods and everyone resumes their search until everyone is satisfied that the room has no more valuables or exits.

<I've resolved all of the search requests that I've seen.  Did anyone want to search in addition to those who have already declared it, or search in new locations?>

What other locations are left that we have not searched?

<Inside the sarcophagus, inside the flaming urns, inside the brass cylinder that is tucked behind one of the urns>

Can we get to the brass cylinder without getting burned by the burning urns? Or do we need to move them/get around them first?

Albricht removed a bolt from his quiver and used it to try and move the cylinder free without getting burned by the burning jars. "I hope that ain't volatile..." he muttered.

OOC: Once it's cool enough, Albricht will try to open it and discern its contents.

Albricht fairly easily pushes the smaller cylinder from behind the urn.  It clatters onto the floor and a quick test of the air around it does not show that it is particularly hot.

After a moment's hesitation, he pulls one of the end caps off and finds a rolled parchment inside.  Inspection of the parchment shows it to be a map, with some familiar terrain.

<See the updated map.  It appears to be a map of this level.>
This message was last edited by the GM at 01:26, Wed 13 Apr 2016.

Plathstream smiles placidly. "Now THAT is useful," he says.

He examines the flaming urns to see if the flames within show any signs of dying out.

Plathstream's examination of the urns turns up neither a lessening of the flames, nor any apparent source of fuel for them.

Sherborne takes note of what folks have discovered, but remains alert while the others search and ponder their discoveries.

"Shall we move on?" suggests Silverglade.

Plathstream nods, trying the door on the western wall and leading the party down the hall to the south, all the way to the next door on the eastern wall, where he listens at it.

I'm talking about the room 15 squares to the south of the room we're currently in. Tapping the floor ahead of my with my greatsword as we go.

The dwarf's sandaled feet did a giddy sort of shuffle when his weather-lined eyes beheld the container's contents. He quickly brought himself back to a composed state with a bunch of sideways glances to see who might have seen his rather un-dwarvenly expression of excitement.

"Hrrrumph! Probably a bunch of fakery and tricksome foolery!" He grunted, but his eyes both tracked more or less together as he committed the map to memory. After a few moments, and with the urging of his companions, he followed them out of the room and into the hall. In his mind however were thoughts of returning back to the northwest portion of the tier where they'd been confronted by the ghosts.

"...knew they were hiding something..." he grumbled into his sun-bleached whiskers.

As both Plathstream and Albricht pass out through the western door of the room with the flaming urns and sarcophagus, they hear a loud scraping from the north, followed by a rumbling and crashing.  A huge boulder is coming down the hall, rolling, grinding, and smashing chips of stone from the floor and walls as it bounces ponderously on its way towards the pair.

In reply to Dungeon Master (msg # 334):

While standing guard at the  door they entered through, Elboc hears the excitement and moves to join the others in the room. He checks the passageway one more time  as he hears them talking of continuing on. As he turns to join them he hears the noise from the doorway the two companions exited the room by. what is that noise?! Now what  have you done?! He stands still in the room and looks around and back to the door they came in by, looking to make his egress in case of eminent danger from the passageways beyond.

Plathstream very calmly springs back in the door that he just came from, pulling Albricht with him.

Not nearly so calm, a string of colorful dwarven expletives gushed forth, cursing fools, fakers and anyone whom ever entertained thoughts of of trickery traps. If not for the good heart of an elf, Albricht Burghammer might have met with a squishy end, stubbornly spitting and stomping and dishonoring the parentage of he who set the boulder in place long ago...

Plathstream and Albricht make it back into the urns-and-sarcophagus room with a bit of time to spare, as the boulder lumbers on down the hall, eventually coming to a halt with a crash far to the south.

"Well, that was exciting.  I think having you two continue to take the lead is in fact what the gods want.  What else could explain your luck?".  Sherborne glances down the hallway quickly to see the wreckage.  "Hopefully that won't attract...well, anything."

Plathstream raises an eybrow at this theory from the cleric. "I hope you are right on all accounts, Sherborne. Let's try that again."

He tries again to head to the door to which he had intended to go originally.

Plathstream easily makes his way down the hall to the south, past the western passage, and stops in front of the closed door to the east.  The boulder rests in the corner to the south of him, effectively blocking the turn in the passage there.  Stopping to listen at the door, he hears only a faint and irregular scratching from beyond it.  No light flickers from beneath the door.

Silverglade readies his sword and shield. "Maybe rats this time?" he suggests.
This message was last edited by the player at 20:52, Sat 16 Apr 2016.

Plathstream nods. "Prepare yourselves; I'll open the door in a moment."

He prepares his sword as the others ready.

Sherborne readies his hammer for another smashing.

Elboc readies his sword and steps toward the front line of the companions...

"By the Bones that was a close one!" Albricht spewed after having a moment to regain his composure. Upon discovering the passage ahead was blocked by the huge stone, he scratched absently at his white whiskers while looking over the map they'd just found, in order to determine if there might be another way around the blockage. When his companions began to ready themselves to breach another door, the old dwarf cocked and locked his crossbow once more and held it at the ready, hunkering down to allow any of his companions a clear bowshot over his head before they all rushed into the room. He pointed to the bottom of the door.

"N-o l-i-g-h-t," he mouthed to Plathstream. "It's probably going to be dark in there."