With a slight nod, and a wave, Breonna dismissed the summoned wolf which had aided them, and calling Ulfric back to her side, examined the fallen. When She approached one by the door she said "This one still breathes, but is unconscious. What should we do with him?" AS she spoke, she moved his obvious weapons away from him, and checked him for any hidden weapons

ooc
search unconscious DW


11:43, Today: Breonna rolled 3 using 1d20+2.  search.

In reply to Breonna (msg # 33):

You don't find any other weapon on him.

with that roll, I am not surprised...

The chained man felt something extraordinary overcome him. He jerked his head toward the source, stemming from the tpk tpk gnome pointing at him. After the last guy pointed at him, he presumed it didn't mean he would die this time. He felt his body stretch and fill the space, but once his wrists pressed against the manacles, his body failed to break free. It was a nice try though; guess it was time to get back to it the old-fashioned way.

Croak pulled forward on his arms, pulling taught against the chains for another rally and getting free. Then, like curtains closing on the play, the sounds of battle drew swiftly to an end.

Oh. It's done.

More importantly, none of them were dead...at least in this room. He could smell more death in the corridor. How long, how far did they fight to get here? How many of them made it?

He watched the garbed woman, a warrior, compose herself, then passed his eyes over the rest of them. A vicious bohemian with a feral companion, a healer with a brave heart and brown robes, and the gnome that spoke in strange tongues. Croak had the fuzziest memory of their descriptions from back at the Inn. It was never like the real deal.

"Stay calm, you are safe."

Croak hadn't expected such a friendly face beneath the cloth. As though he didn't believe her, he gave the room another thorough sweep. Yep. Everyone that was supposed to be down was down.

"Here, drink this and then we get you out of these chains."

Croak could already smell it wasn't booze. But he was thirsty nonetheless. He thought he was at least. He certainly should have been. Scraping his chin against his shoulder pulled the long brown scarf down from around his mouth, revealing a short beard with curls as thick as the afro at the back of his head. He took some of the proffered water, then nodded his appreciation.

"Thanks," he said, sounding like a belching abyss, "and you're welcome, for the warning, the one you...didn't heed." He tried to crack a grin, but he couldn't bring the corners of his mouth to bear. That'd always been a problem.

"Croak. Name's Croak. I usually exchange...names on a first date."

Another joke, another lack of accompanying body language.

---

(OOC: Thx Zaineb. I was hoping more for the rule of cool, but next time I'll just ask :))

"Pleased to meet you, Croak." the desert warrior replied, smiling thinly at the prisoner's words, wondering on how she should reply. A sharp retort perhaps? A lecture on him being the prisoner and her friends being the rescuers? "What's in a name?" she asked as she took away the water, having allowed him to drink his fill. The woman was quietly reflecting a heartbeat or two as she put the stopper into the waterskin and turned her attention on the still living deathwalker. "Tom, can you tie him up? We should try to question him later."

"Breonna, please guard the door, Ulfric's keen nose should warn us once more of these guys show up." she asked kindly, then turned her attention back on the man in shackles. "You can call me Zaineb. Over there that's Varlian and Edgrin, Breonna and Tom you have already heard." she said, pointing out each person individually, then gestured for Boddy to join her talking to the prisoner. "But most importantly, meet Boddynock Mourningle. He is our master of tongues and master of words." the scorpion guard introduced the gnome, confident the two would work together splendidly.

"Sure thing," Tom says.

Tom heads over to the comatose Deathwalker at Zaineb's bidding. He looks out the door to ensure that Edgrin was faring well out there, and to be assured by Edgrins nod, once the rotund halfling glanced back, that everything was still looking ok.

Tom takes his time to thoroughly search the dazed Deathwalker a second time.

Tom, rolled 14 using 1d20+2.  Search Check.

After checking the Deathwalker, he uses silk rope to bind first the wrists, then the ankles, and then he runs a tether from the wrists to the ankles behind the painted skull faced human.

Once he's done, he joins Edgrin to keep watch on the passages.

Chamber Description Refresher: The chamber is a circular chamber roughly 40' feet in diameter. There is a 5-foot diameter basin in the center of the room. It is set upon a 3-foot pillar of human skulls. At the north end of the room is a 10-foot diameter column of black drapery that hangs from the 20-foot ceiling. The drapery is held to the ceiling by brass nails.
This message was last edited by the GM at 12:22, Sat 23 Jan 2021.

"Alright? Not at all.  I got stabbed.  My best friend is off talking to a dragon WITHOUT ME!  That nice minotaur lady fell.  Bullock got fried.  It's been a pretty traumatizing last couple of minutes."  Boddynock replied.



Boddynock came over.  "Huh... you're still small."  He sounded a bit disappointed.  "I was sure that would have busted you out."

The gnome pulled out some lockpicks.  "No problem."

Rolled 1

"Oops."  He pulled back a partial pick as the other end jammed in the lock.

"Renli?" Varlian says quietly, still not sure what happened.  He looks at the ground and shakes his head once he hears Boddy's report on the three who did not make it into the room.

Sad at the losses, but following Zaineb and Boddy's lead in staying positive, he stands back up straight and resolves to continue on.  "Are you injured, Croak?" he asks.  "We will get you out of there shortly.  Did they take your gear somewhere?  What are you doing here?"

Varlian aids in whatever way he can to help free Croak.  He will also examine one of the Deathwalkers.

Breonna motions at the door "Tom and Edgrin have the door, but Ulfric will help" and she motions Ulfric to wait by the door.

She looks around the room"Our comrades have fallen - was the earthquake part of the trap that got Bullock do we think? Regardless, we have lost any knowledge we may have had of what is down here."

She looks at the Prisoner "Unless this one can tell us any more?"

"What's in a name?"

Curious words to Croak they were, but much too philosophical for a time such as now. Certainly something easily slotted away for assessing later, which the warrior did.

"Huh... you're still small. I was sure that would have busted you out."

Croak tilted his head at the remark as the gnome worked their picks into the manacles. That's what they were trying to do? "I appreciate the attempt...Though I always believed...size is relative." He never considered himself tall; just under 70 hands high, but he couldn't help but wonder just how big the master of tongues had aimed to make him. Could have been fun. Maybe next time, if they lived that long.

But Boddynock's report still rang in his ear. It seemed their were a lack of survivors after all, which didn't bode well for their traversal through...well...wherever they were.

"Are you injured, Croak?"

Croak shook his head, using his chin to jerk towards the wall across from him. "Gear's over there. And why I'm here? Well..."

The sound of Boddy's picks hung in the air, the delicate tinkling and scraping rhythm against metal. He settled into it, wondering how to keep his explanation as absolutely short as possible. His voice was beginning to grow crumbly; as much as a treat Zaineb's water was, there was little that could have been done to the damage dealt decades before.

"Unless this one can tell us any more?"

Croak made an odd sound, something between a grinding chuckle and a stony snort. "I was sent to help with the...nondead problems at Falcon's Hollow." He spoke slow, hoping a reduction in speed would bring them increased clarity. "I was catching up, but got...sent somewhere...to a room with-" The man looked about, using pointed looks to indicate their fallen foes, "-with faces like them. Next thing I know...something hits me in the neck...I wake up..."

He looks at his manacles, then shrugs.

"Maybe...you could tell me what's going on. Since what I do know is that I see nothing that looks like a Falcon. But the room's Hollow..."

“That sounds familiar.  I think these undead guys have a trap set to send anyone trying to stop them into the past.  Then we die in this maze.  I don’t see a way to get these open.  Anyone got a crowbar or acid?  Maybe we could cut his hands off.  Can you reattached those Varlian?  I could try enlarge him again and see if we can bust him out.  What are we going to do about Renli and Anyia, Anya, Allison whattever her name was?”   The thoughts came flooding out his mouth as they crossed his brain.

Croak could, at the very least, tilt the corners of his mouth ever-so-slightly down to signal his disapproval...why would you waste a spell enlarging someone again if it didn't work the first time?

"There's a crowbar...in my gear..."

“Waste?  Magic is never a waste.  You learn something every time!  We were in a fight maybe I just missed.  Does Zaineb look like she has a fuller figure up top to you?  When did Zaineb become a girl?  Huh.  Could be what we call in another system a partial success.  Or maybe a partial failure given I was aiming at you.  Anyway, the scientific method usually calls for trial and error.  We might learn a 100 ways NOT to do something before we find one that does.  The sad part is people usually stop then.  Wouldn’t it be great to know a hundred ways to get out of shackles?  A book like that would come in handy now and probably be a best seller.”

“Crowbar is boring and non-magical.  We should start that book.  Varlian can you regerate limbs?”

"From Falcon's Hollow?" Varlian exclaims, clearly relieved.  "That means the undead haven't attacked; I haven't let the town down yet.  If we can get back there soon enough we can stop the undead."

Varlian listens to the conversation before interjecting, "I cannot reattach a hand.  I vote we try the crowbar before anything else.  Let us leave the experiments for the research rooms just now."

Varlian walks over to Croak's belongings and brings them over to where Croak is chained.

Zaineb watched how Boddynock tried and failed to pick the shackles, but didn't wish to comment on it. The gnome's suggestion to cut off the prisoner's hands were met with a well trained roll of her eyes and completely ignoring it.

Croak mentioning the threat in Falcon's Hollow reminded the desert warrior that they didn't have the time to discuss certain things at length. She watched Varlian helpfully picking up the stranger's things, taking them to him.

"Stand back I'll use an acid spell to weaken the manacles, then we can break them." Zaineb told them, focusing on resolving the issue swiftly. "We need something to cover his arms and hands." the woman explained, then prepared to cast a spell.

ooc: Will cast 'Acid Splash' on the manacle, let's hope we can break it quickly.

Breonna moved over to the font in the middle of the room and looked inside

"We got here almost the same way as you" she added "except we ended up trying to help some Minotaurs who were going to help us get out in return. But now they're all dead, I'm not sure what will happen...."

The acid weakens the manacles enough for the breaking of them. Croak is now free.

"I cannot reattach a hand."

Croak sighed. What a bummer. It would have been nice to know a chirurgeon was among their party. Now he knew what risks not to take.

"Stand back I'll use an acid spell to weaken the manacles, then we can break them."

And now they would take them in the worst way possible.

Yet the next minute, Croak rubbed his wrists in wonder, flexed his arms in a slow test of mobility. There was a creak in his wide shoulders, but otherwise he felt just fine. He did make sure to pull his long scarf back up around his mouth. Considering his unsilky tone, it seemed counterintuitive.

"We got here almost the same way as you,"

Croak muttered along to Breonna's words as he crouched to inspect his pack. Weapons, coins, arrows, everything seemed to be in place. They must have been in need of a snack, though. Did they take all his food out his pack? Not that he was hungry. Yet.

"I'm sorry for your loss...es..." Croak grumbled, a sound like rolling hills, as he slid a belt over his red and beige robes. He inspected two wicked knives, each top-heavy and bent forward like blades with broken backs. He grunted (in a good way?) before quickly spinning them into the sheathes at the small of his back. "Let us suffer no more." Though it shouldn't have fit, he pulled a curved sword out of the bag. It was long and broad, and gilded with flowing fine-featured scrip over the handle. It was given a twirling flourish and a nod of approval before being hung on its owner's side.

"But also," Croak looked to Varlian. "I haven't been to Falcon's Hollow. Don't know where it is. Hope you do..." After hooking a quiver to the other side of his waist, Croak kept a lonbow of red yew in his hand. "And now you're telling me we're not even close...and in a hurry? Sounds like no time for...a round of drinks." The wood-hued man notched an arrow to a longbow made of red yew. He tested the string, drawing back, sighting down it with one deep green eye - the eye that didn't look like a thimble-full of milk - before releasing his pull. The arrow was flipped back in with the batch of forty. "Thanks again. All of you."

"So while we check this room out...would any of you mind-" His cough sounded like a bucket of glass and nails shaken together, "-mind getting me up to speed?"

---

OOC: Geared up, wielding longbow. Checking out the basin. Currently has Scent ability.

"Ok, here's the quick version..."

"A long time ago two gnomes were blessed with a wonderful child.  ME!  I had a pretty normal childhood, lots of friends, wanderlust eventually took over and I went off into the world.  Although now that I think of it, that was my mother's idea and not really mine.  She said other people should be so blessed to enjoy my company as she had for all those years.
I'm Boddynock Mourningle, adventurer, storyteller, sage, historian, jack-of-all-trades and general font of inspiration." "

"Anyway, In my research I found out about the missing heir to the dwarven kingdom.  The monks were so eager about my find they encouraged me to go locate him.  I protested of course indicating a couple of months with them certainly wasn't enough time to learn everything, but they were adamant I go, 'Save the World.  The dwarves need you.' they said.  So I was on the road again."

"I met several wizards along the way.  There are many stories about them.  Not now?  Ok.  Later, when we have more time."

"I met Renli and we hit it off.  He's very stubborn.  He still insists he's not the long lost heir.  But I know better.  I checked when he was passed out!"  The gnome said conspiratorially.

"After many adventures where we saved a sheep stuck in a thicket, a kitty cat stuck in a tree and a boy stuck in a well.  We volunteered to help Falcon's Hallow.  I mean an unconfirmed renowned King and his plucky sidekick certainly could solve the mystery and save the day."

"Off we went and *POOF*!  Tricky teleporters.  Well, we met the others here.  Closed Revenge Game Thread Part 1. Msg#401.  A post that will live in history as our first meeting.

<darkblue>"Rats, teleporters, gnolls, teleporters, temples, ancient dieties, history, blah, blah, blah, etc.  Oh!  We met a hydra!  They wouldn't let me ride it though.  That's when we met the Minotaur's.  I brokered a peace deal between the dwarves and Minotaurs.  In exchange for return to the surface, they will be best friends.  Not bad for a simple gnome.  Single handedly ending an eternity of enmity between races!  Except now Renli is off entertaining a Dragon without me!  He's not so good in social situations.  We have to get back there and help!  Then resurrect Bullock so this peace deal doesn't fall through.  It's alot for my little shoulders."

The gnome took a breath.

"Oh," Varlian says with a deep sigh and a guilty look on his face when Croak explains he hadn't been to Falcon's Hallow yet.  He nervously rubs his bald head and traces one of the scars on his cheek with a finger as he listens to Boddy's recapping, but his mind is clearly elsewhere.

"Yes, we allied with the Beastmen as Boddy said.  In exchange for clearing out this evil lurking in an ancient city below where the beastmen live, they will bring us to the surface and point us back to Falcon's Hallow.  Of course we've lost their king and another high ranking member venturing down here, so we might need to explain that when we return."

“We can’t go back.  You saw how paranoid they were.  They won’t believe their heir, their oracle and the royal they made the agreement with all just happen to die or disappear.  We’ll be labeled assassins and traitors and whatever other vile terms for bad guys they have.  I can’t get locked up.  It would ruin my reputation!”  The gnome processed the imaginary dire situation they were in.

“We need to find Renli.  He can assure them the treaty is still good.  Either that, or we continue on stumbling through the under dark in a time long lost to history, find the lost city, settle down, plant crops, raise families and research their teleporter magics.  Then in about 4500 years we should be able to figure it all out and get back to Falcon’s Hallow.  I bet since we are dealing with time, we can arrive just in time to stop the undead kobolds!”

Breonna looked up from examining the basin on the skulls, and walked over to the others.

"What happened to Renli - and the others?" Suddenly she stops her eyes widening and she runs out the door, followed by Ulfric.

In the corridor, she runs back to find the Rothe and pats it on the nose "I'm sorry big fella, in all the action I forgot about you, come on" and she attempts to lead it into the room where the others are

ooc

20:26, Today: Breonna rolled 25 using 1d20+6.  HAndle animal.

Croak grunted along as Boddy spoke. Sometimes he did so during the times when nothing important was said, which may have led one to believe he didn't care, which would only be half of the truth, as he didn't stop caring until Boddy was halfway done talking. They all seemed up to their necks in death and dealings. Maybe it wasn't such a bad way to have been knocked out. It was certainly a short cut. In a way.

Croak looked over the basin with Breonna, taking the moment to look at her from beneath the wide brim of his hat. Was she the beast man the priest referred to? She certainly seemed...untamed.

As the druid ran to the door, Croak pulled his face out from the basin. "So this ancient city...different than Falcon's...is what we tend to...before the nondeads?" Croak spoke as he looked at the drapery nailed to the ceiling.

"Count me in," he muttered, moving to the drapery and attempting to look beneath it.

In reply to Breonna (msg # 55):

The deep rothé won't be able to go past Bullock who is all but blocking the entire passage with his bulk.
This message was last edited by the GM at 11:50, Fri 29 Jan 2021.