Rudo leads the way into the tunnel. The rest of the party follow close behind.

They travel about a hundred feet down the straight narrow tunnel, descending very slightly, until it opens up into a large natural cavern. The lighting is almost nonexistent here, though only Willow and Burgess have trouble seeing without natural darkvision. Rudo comes to a stop at the head of the line to peer into the cavern.

A cold breeze fills the open earthen space, carrying with it the faint scent of decaying flesh. A crevasse divides the cavern and is flanked by two rough stone columns that support the twenty-foot-high ceiling. Two arched wooden bridges span the chasm, one about ten feet from the group and the other much deeper into the cavern to the north.

As Rudo scans the cavern, Burgess whines very faintly and nudges Willow with his head. She tenses slightly, almost imperceptibly, and quietly reaches for her short swords.
This message was last edited by the GM at 00:20, Thu 29 June 2017.

Rudo quietly places a hand on Willow's shoulder, then turns back to Zhaquadan. "Pillar," he whispers so quietly Zhaquadan can barely hear. "Ten o'clock."

He reaches slowly for his greataxe.

Zhaquadan moves up behind Rudo to peer into the darkness of the cavern. He sees nothing. Patiently he watches the nearby pillar, trying to discern any movement or unexpected detail visible in the gloom.

As his eyes adjust to the darkness, he begins to make out a strange smooth protrusion of stone on the right side of the column. It catches his eye with the perfect roundness of a semicircle jutting out from the side of the pillar, shaded in pale patterns of color distinctly unlike the rest of the stone around it.

Suddenly the circular protrusion disappears. It reappears again a moment later. This time it's slightly larger, and at its center is a dot as black as the depths of shadow surrounding it.

Zhaquadan's heart freezes when he realizes he's staring directly into a huge green eye, looking right back at him.
This message was last edited by the GM at 23:03, Wed 28 June 2017.

Steamknuckle edges up behind Zhaquadan. "You see that, right?" he whispers.

 Zhaquadan whispers "Yes.  I was worried about this but I was hoping it was deeper in.   We can assume some kind of alarm has been raised.   What should we do now?"

Willow suddenly takes a step backward, almost tripping over the dog behind her. "Who...who said that?" she asks loudly, her voice echoing out into the cavern.

She turns to the others. The look on her face is agitated, almost frantic. "Did you hear that? You heard that, right?" She shows no signs of concern for the noise she's making.
This message was last edited by the player at 22:15, Thu 29 June 2017.

"What are you doing?" Rudo whispers, gritting his teeth. "Shut up! Are you trying to get us killed?"

Zhaquadan looks around, trying to discern the source of Willow's unease.

Zhaquadan wastes no time casting guiding bolt after which he backs away slowly saying "Throw everything you've got at it."
OOC: Ranged attack guiding bolt
19:36, Today: Zhaquadan Mudsmither rolled 13 using 1d20+5 with rolls of 8.  Ranged attack guiding bolt.
19:37, Today: Zhaquadan Mudsmither rolled 12 using 4d6 with rolls of 4,4,1,3.  Guiding bolt damage.

Zhaquadan utters a word of power and raises his hand, unleashing a streak of bright light that briefly illuminates the cavern with a flash. The huge eye quickly disappears behind the stone pillar. The ray of light strikes the stone surface and dissipates harmlessly, leaving no mark behind.

"Don't be a fool," the silent voice hisses, this time seeming to reach out into everyone's mind at once. The party looks at each other in surprise, confirming that they are indeed each hearing the same message.

"The dark one warned us," it continues. "Were it not for the smell of your secrets, your flesh would be rotting from your bones by now. Come now...speak with us. The dark one offered us food, but you...we haven't relished such secrets in a long time.

"We can taste it in you. So rich...you hunger for the dark one's secrets too. Share some of what you have and we might be willing to...strike another bargain."
This message was last edited by the GM at 05:29, Mon 03 July 2017.

Rudo turns to Zhaquadan. He clutches the haft of his battleaxe fiercely, but in place of his usual swagger his eyes now betray a genuine startling fear.

"I heard that," he says. "I fear no man, but dark magic, that's something else. Tell us, priest. Do we kill it?"

Zhaquadan pauses for a moment unsure about how proceed and looks despairingly at Steamknuckle.

OOC: Attempt to recall any information about the current adversary.
16:10, Today: Zhaquadan Mudsmither rolled 6 using 1d20+1 with rolls of 5.  Arcana check.
This message was last edited by the GM at 04:23, Fri 07 July 2017.

Steamknuckle shrugs and gives Zhaquadan a nervous look. "Don't look at me. I have no idea what that thing is." The gnome seems agitated, and a bit confused.

He leans close to Zhaquadan. "All I know is it can read our minds," he whispers. "I don't know about you, but that really spooks me out. But...if it can read our minds, then it can also read the Redbrands' too. Maybe it can tell us something about Glasstaff, or this place."

"Yes..." the disembodied voice whispers within the party's minds. "No need for blood. Share with us...yes...and we will share with you."

Rudo steps forward, gripping his axe. "Don't fall for this demon's trickery. We need nothing from it, except that eye in two bloody pieces on the ground."

Hearing the whispered discussion around her, Willow seems to have regained some composure. Her face is still pale with tension, though.

"The things it said to me were not friendly," she whispers in a shaky voice. "I don't trust it one bit. But, on the other hand, I don't want to fight it either.

"It said...the 'dark one' gives it food. That must be how they keep it from trying to eat them. If we give it what it wants, then maybe it will let us pass in peace."

"Don't go soft on me now, Kitten," Rudo mutters. His face is grim as he turns to Zhaquadan. "What do you say, priest? Surely you won't stand for parley with a devil like this?"

After a long pause Zhaquadan says "If you think it is possible I think this thing is an abomination and should be cleansed.  If we can injure and capture it perhaps it can be questioned but I say we throw everything we have at it."

"Injure and capture it?" Steamknuckle whispers incredulously. "It's been trying to talk to us since we got here. I mean, you're hearing the same voice in your head that I'm hearing, right? It's trying to avoid a fight. We don't need to beat it into submission to get information out of it! It just said that's what it wants to do!

"If questioning this thing is what you want, then do that. Why risk our lives and its willingness to talk by attacking it? I'm starting to wonder whether you might have caught something from Rudo here."

Rudo grins. "You heard the dwarf. It's an abomination, and needs to die." He abruptly turns on his heel, charging into the darkness toward the stone pillar with his axe raised.

"Foolsssss..." the voice spits. As Rudo begins his charge, the creature leans more fully out from behind the pillar, revealing its hideous form. Its skeletal mouth snarls and slavers.



OOC: Combat ensues. Initiative order:

Initiative Roll	Character
22	Willow
19	Steamknuckle
19	Peas
18	Creature
17	Zhaquadan
7	Burgess
4	Rudo

This message was last edited by the GM at 16:21, Tue 01 Aug 2017.

"I can't see anything!" Willow cries frantically. "Steamknuckle, someone...please give me some light!" She pulls out the large claw dangling from the leather cord around her neck, holding it up for someone to imbue with magical radiance, while she blindly backs up against the cavern wall behind her.

OOC: Taking the Ready action (PHB p.193) to attack the creature as soon as the cavern is sufficiently illuminated.
This message was last edited by the player at 19:40, Fri 29 Sept 2017.

"I'm sorry, I don't know that spell!" Steamknuckle replies. "Only Zhaquadan can do that!"

Frustrated by Rudo's sudden charge, Steamknuckle edges up along the right-hand wall of the tunnel, toward the lip of the crevasse, to get a better view of the monster. As soon as he has a clear shot, he thrusts his hand forward and blasts it with a ray of freezing magical energy.

The ray strikes the creature firmly along the spiny crest of its hunched-over back, just above its eye, leaving a steaming trail of white crusted ice along its pitted leathery skin. The creature lets out a low, clicking growl.

OOC: Ranged attack with Ray of Frost cantrip.
16:14, Today: Steamknuckle rolled 20 using 1d20+5 with rolls of 15.  Ray of Frost cantrip attack.
16:14, Today: Steamknuckle rolled 2 using 1d8 with rolls of 2.  Ray of Frost cantrip damage (cold).
This message was last edited by the player at 13:33, Sat 08 July 2017.

As Steamknuckle moves forward, Peas leaps off his shoulder, swooping into the darkness toward the monster. She glides over Rudo's charging head and directly into the monster's huge single eye, blotting out its pale green luminescence for a moment with the fluttering of her small dark wings.

The creature screeches in frustration as it swipes at the tiny owl with its claws, but by the time they pass through the air in front of it she is gone. She sails off into the darkness of the cavern behind. The creature turns slightly to reach after her with another swipe of its claws, before stopping as it realizes its back is now exposed to Rudo's charging greataxe.

OOC: Flying to the creature, performing the Help action, then flying away.
The Help action (PHB p.192) is targeted at assisting Rudo's next attack.
This message was last edited by the GM at 13:34, Sat 08 July 2017.

The creature skitters away, retreating from Rudo. As it does so, it turns its eye toward Steamknuckle, and the horrible wheezing voice fills the party's minds. "I see now why you hesitated, little one. But do your friends? No...they cannot trust you. Such treasures you keep buried for yourself within the darkness. You've kept them hidden so long, how can you even trust yourself?"

As the creature stares toward Steamknuckle, its gaze intensifies. The gnome suddenly shrieks, doubling over as he clutches at his face and chest. The reaction only lasts a moment, though, as Steamknuckle rears back, breathing hard, and returns the monster's gaze with a hard glare of his own.

"You are a strong one...gnome," the voice rattles. "Strong, yes...but not strong enough to protect her."

OOC: Targeting Steamknuckle with a mysterious gaze.
21:34, Today: Steamknuckle rolled 19 using 1d20+2 with rolls of 17.  Constitution saving throw to resist the creature's gaze attack.

Steamknuckle bellows with shocking fury after the retreating monster. "Don't you dare talk about her! You'll die for that!"

OOC: Zhaquadan casts light on Willow's claw.
This message was last edited by the GM at 03:07, Sun 09 July 2017.

Zhaquadan speaks a single resonant word, turning his shield to point the symbol on its surface toward the claw held up by Willow. In an instant the claw is bathed in a bright white light.

Willow immediately drops the claw to dangle from its leather cord across her chest. "Thanks," she mutters. The light illuminates the cavern brightly across her field of vision, revealing the hideous crouched form of the retreating creature, now near the far end of the chamber.

She moves a few feet forward to get a clear view of her quarry. Then she quickly draws her shortbow, readies an arrow, and mutters a single indistinct word under her breath before releasing the bowstring.

The arrow streaks through the gloom to sink deeply into the meat of the monster's turned hip. It lets out a terse, almost coughing screech at the impact. Then it suddenly begins clawing madly at the wound, as tough, thorny vines magically sprout from it, growing impossibly fast to thicken and spread across the monster's struggling body.

Soon the creature is fully entangled by the vines, thrashing madly to escape from their grasp as thorns sink and tear into its writhing flesh.

OOC: Triggering Ready action from earlier in the round: using bonus action to cast Ensnaring Strike before making a ranged attack with shortbow.
23:08, Today: Willow rolled 16 using 1d20+7 with rolls of 9.  Shortbow attack.
23:10, Today: Willow rolled 7 using 1d6+3 with rolls of 4.  Shortbow damage (piercing).
23:14, Today: Wizzrobe, for the NPC Creature, rolled 3 using 1d20+2 with rolls of 1.  Strength saving throw to resist Willow's Ensnaring Strike spell.
This message was last edited by the player at 14:29, Sun 09 July 2017.

Seeing Willow move up into the cavern, Burgess bounds forward protectively, rushing past her and Rudo toward the creature. He deftly skirts the edge of the chasm to reach the monster just as Willow's magical vines begin to entangle it.

The huge mastiff pounces into the strange creature, snapping at its leg with his massive jaws. However, by the time he arrives the spell has already taken hold, and his teeth sink harmlessly into a fibrous stalk of vine snaking across the monster's limbs. He angrily shakes his maw, tearing the vine into shreds.

OOC: Melee bite attack by Burgess.
07:35, Today: Wizzrobe, for the NPC Burgess, rolled 10 using 2d20+3, dropping the lowest dice only with rolls of 7,5.  Bite attack, with advantage due to the creature being restrained.

Rudo huffs in frustration as multiple fleeting beasts and flung projectiles fly past him, while his own short legs fail to close the distance between himself and the monster. He manages to run about two-thirds of the way before he stops to angrily rip a javelin from his belt, flinging it at the creature with one hand while gripping his greataxe in the other in a counterbalancing backward swing.

The javelin sails through the air to neatly skewer the creature through its left arm.

OOC: Ranged attack with javelin.
08:01, Today: Rudo rolled 16 using 2d20+5, dropping the lowest dice only with rolls of 2,11.  Javelin attack, with advantage due to the creature being restrained.
08:02, Today: Rudo rolled 8 using 1d6+3 with rolls of 5.  Javelin damage (piercing).
This message was last edited by the player at 15:36, Sun 09 July 2017.

Willow rapidly nocks another arrow and lets fly. The arrow strikes true, driving through the thick vines to sink into the creature's chest. It screeches desperately and thrashes even more wildly against its entangling prison.

OOC: Ranged attack with shortbow.
08:38, Today: Willow rolled 21 using 2d20+7, dropping the lowest dice only with rolls of 4,14.  Shortbow attack, with advantage due to the creature being restrained.
08:38, Today: Willow rolled 9 using 1d6+3 with rolls of 6.  Shortbow damage (piercing).

Steamknuckle grimaces with cruel resolve as he blasts the creature with another ray of frost. The beam strikes dead center, leaving the monster gasping and clutching at the patch of frost spreading across its abdomen.

The gnome approaches steadily with his palm held out, ready to fire again. Peas flutters out of the darkness to land deftly on his shoulder as he walks.

OOC: Ranged attack with Ray of Frost cantrip.
11:56, Today: Steamknuckle rolled 23 using 2d20+5, dropping the lowest dice only with rolls of 8,18.  Ray of Frost cantrip attack, with advantage due to the creature being restrained.
11:56, Today: Steamknuckle rolled 8 using 1d8 with rolls of 8.  Ray of Frost cantrip damage (cold).
This message was last edited by the player at 03:52, Mon 10 July 2017.

A howling desperation fills the voice that invades the party's minds. "Pleeease..." it begs. "We do not mean any harm. Please do not hurt us. We have treasures...many secrets. Shining things. We will give them to you. Please..."

The creature sees Steamknuckle approaching with fury on his face, and it tenses, flexing its wiry muscles in a final jerking gasp at freedom. The vines around its arms and legs suddenly give way and tear into fibrous splinters. The monster thrashes more and more urgently as it feels its freedom approaching, until the last vine shrivels and falls away into dust as formless as the magic from which it came.

The creature crouches, shaking and bloody, staring at Steamknuckle. "Please...take pity on us..." the broken voice wheezes. "We meant no harm. We will not run...we will share our treasures with you. Please forgive us, and spare us..."

OOC: Attempting to break out of the entangling vines.
12:56, Today: Willow rolled 1 using 1d6 with rolls of 1.  Ongoing thorn damage from Ensnaring Strike (piercing).
12:59, Today: Wizzrobe, for the NPC Creature, rolled 12 using 1d20+2 with rolls of 10.  Strength saving throw to break free from Willow's Ensnaring Strike spell.

Zhaquadan runs to attempt to put himself between the creature and Rudo with his warhammer at the ready.   When he is close enough to not have to yell for the creature to hear he asks "How do we know we can trust you?"

"You have us at your mercy..." the voice replies. "We cannot eat you...we cannot run. We are to be trusted because...there is no other choice."

Zhaquadan moves to the far side of the creature so as to prevent its escape and says "Surround it but keep your distance, it may actually have information that could help" while making a circular gesture with his hands to reinforce the request to his comrades.  He turns his attention to the creature and asks menacingly "Who is your master? Who is this 'dark one'?  What are you hiding down here?"
This message was last edited by the player at 02:20, Mon 10 July 2017.

Steamknuckle scowls as he approaches. "This thing had better start saying the right things, or else these Redbrands will be cleaning up its shattered frozen pieces for the next month."

The party quickly encircles the creature. Willow steps forward to gingerly remove the projectiles embedded in the monster's tough hide. It groans from the pain, but otherwise yields without complaint. She manages to recover one usable arrow and Rudo's javelin, which she hands to him.

As Zhaquadan edges around the creature to block off its escape to the north, he feels a strange chill emanating from the crevasse beneath him. Glancing down, he sees steep natural rock walls dropping about 20 feet to the floor of the narrow fissure, which is strewn with stone rubble and what appears to be scattered heaps of broken and well-gnawed bones. Tucked in among a pair of larger boulders he catches a glimpse of tattered cloth covering what looks like a humanoid leg.

"Yes, do not fear..." the telepathic voice murmurs. "We have many treasures, but will share only those you wish to see. Please do not hurt us. The treasures you seek...and only our life in return. A wise bargain."

The creature fixes its eerie green eye on Zhaquadan. "The dark one came just a while ago. We do not remember days, only that we ...smelled the secrets of..." The voice hesitates for several seconds before continuing. "...this place...long before they came.

"The dark one brought with him his...red ones. It was ours first, we found it, but they were many...so we struck a bargain. We were hungry, and he wished to keep others out of our place. We wished this too. No need for...blood.

"The dark one is not our master. He merely...feeds us. You know him as...the staff of glass."
This message was last edited by the GM at 05:48, Tue 11 July 2017.

"What is Glasstaffs real name?  What did he want here?"

"We do not know the dark one's name. He...hid that well from us. But we tasted his desires...yes. He was sent by his own master to...perform some duty...but he was no dog. He hungered...bought the red ones with coin of greed to seize and conquer. Now they are his dogs, and he is the master."

The creature crouches, breathing wetly and wringing its hands as it looks around at the party members surrounding it. "We do not serve the dark one...we made a bargain. Yet...you seek to drive out the red ones...we see. We will not stop you. We will make a new bargain. The red ones are weak and tasteless. Their flesh will feed us, but their secrets are petty and bland. We will eat their flesh, and gnaw their bones...and trade whispers with you.

"If you kind ones would be pleased, then we will make the same bargain with you. We will...keep unwanted ones out. Away from our place. Their flesh will rot from their bones, and you will...be safe."

The creature gazes deeply into Zhaquadan's eyes, as if entreating the one it feels most open to diplomacy. "Please...give us the flesh of the red ones you slay. We will eat them, and the bright rooms will be clean of their bones. But..." The voice hesitates a moment. "Please...spare the one whose name is paper. It is black and speechless, yet...its treasures are rich. It has...given us company in the darkness here. It knows secrets that you will wish to taste as well. We do not wish to chew its bones."

"Tell me what he wanted to protect down here.  Is this the Wave Echo cave?  Do you know where that is?"

"We do not know the...cave of echoing waves. We did not taste any such thing in the dark one. This place is only our home. It is...old. And it remembers. But the dark one does not see this...he is here only for his own greed. He protects nothing here, save his own petty appetites."

"Where is Glasstaff?" Willow asks impatiently.

The creature turns to Willow, its luminous eye glistening with an uncanny fervor. It stares at her for a long moment before turning back to Zhaquadan. "Oh...my...how delicious. This little one...so little she knows of you. Or...indeed...you of her. Ah, it has been so long since we tasted such mystery...black as oblivion to both of you. So sad...for such a thing to go unknown between friends brought together by such rare chance."

Willow's eyes, startled, dart between the creature and Zhaquadan. "What...what is it talking about?"

The creature turns back to Willow. It subtly runs its tongue across the edges of its teeth as its voice reaches out into the party's minds. "The dark one...he is near. He lairs down below." It points a bony claw to the northwest, toward the passageway just beyond where Zhaquadan is standing.

"We were to protect the dark one from...intrusions. But...where one bargain fails, another creeps in to take its place."

The creature sweeps its unsettling gaze across the rest of the party. "Beware...the dark one hides many secrets. He knows. And he comes and goes by many paths. The darkness is...safer...than the light."

"Tell me where ALL of your treasures are hidden in this cave.  Tell us where everything is, shiny or dark." Zhaquadan demands almost manaically.

Rudo laughs. "Now there's a dwarf after my own heart! I was just about to say the same myself."

The creature recoils a bit. "Of course...but...surely you need not...relieve us of all our treasures? Surely, in light of our new bargain, you will see fit to leave us...but a meager share?"
This message was last edited by the GM at 05:54, Tue 11 July 2017.

Rudo responds only by taking a step forward, his axe raised menacingly.

The creature backs away slightly, raising its hands apologetically as it lowers its head in submission. With its eye still on the floor, the creature slowly turns to point a crooked claw toward the rocky slope of the ravine just below the nearby bridge.

"And it's all there?" Steamknuckle asks sternly. "Every bit? You'll want to be honest with us now."

"Yes...all of our shiny treasures. There.

"Our dark treasures are yours to have as well. You have only to ask...and we will tell."
This message was last edited by the GM at 04:40, Tue 11 July 2017.

Rudo slings his greataxe across his back. "Keep an eye on this thing. If it tries anything, you know what to do."

He turns to descend the rough wall of the crevasse. The slope is gradual and strewn with wide boulders, so the dwarf quickly makes it down to the floor of the chasm without difficulty. He disappears into the gloom beneath the wooden plank bridge.

His voice drifts out a moment later. "Oh, yes. Come to papa." After a few moments of shuffling and scraping, Rudo emerges back into the light of Willow's claw. He looks up at the assembled party staring back down at him. In his arms he carries a battered wooden chest.

A few moments later Rudo hands the chest up to Willow and Steamknuckle from just below the lip of the crevasse. He clambers up to stand beside them as Steamknuckle eases the chest open.

Inside is a heap of gold and silver coins, a handful of smooth green gemstones, two stoppered glass vials filled with a foamy reddish liquid, and a tightly rolled parchment scroll bound with twine.

Across the top of it all lays a beautiful longsword in a silver-chased scabbard, its hilt worked in the shape of a bird of prey with outspread wings.


This message was last edited by the GM at 16:22, Tue 01 Aug 2017.

Rudo frowns with disappointment. "Well nine hells. Had to be a piddly one-handed weapon, didn't it?"

After a moment he looks up. "Oh yes. Forgot to mention, there's a corpse down there. Looks like old cyclops here got started on him for breakfast. Didn't look like a Redbrand; probably some hapless fool from the village.

"But by Moradin's hammer, damned if I didn't freeze my balls off down there! That body might have been laying there a month and it would still be fresh in that cold."

"Looks like a couple hundred coins in here," Steamknuckle mumbles, sifting through the treasure. "About half gold, half silver. We don't exactly have time to count it out right now, though. And I'll need time to identify the potions and scroll. Sword looks like it might be enchanted, too."

He looks up at Zhaquadan. "What do you think we should do? It will take time to lug this back into town, and who knows what might happen in the meantime. We've made a lot of noise in here, so we might already have lost the element of surprise. But if we leave the chest here and move on, then what's to stop this thing from just taking it and running?"

Steamknuckle fixes a sour glare on the one-eyed monster. "I'd say we can't trust it either way."

Zhaquadan stares at the creature with both disgust and pity in his eyes.  Reluctantly he says "I don't know what to do with this thing.  I am fairly certain that Ishtishia would want me to cleanse this world of such a thing but it seems to have  slightly honest desire to want to help and just to be left alone.  We have essentially entered into a deal with it which makes me ill to say but it's continued existence may yet be for a greater good.  I say we carry the treasure and be ready to drop it for a fight and leave the decision as to this one's fate for a later time."
This message was last edited by the GM at 01:55, Thu 13 July 2017.

Willow gives Zhaquadan an impatient look. "We can't sneak through a bandit stronghold carrying a chest full of treasure," she says flatly.

"Well, to be fair, this chest is not very full. We could just remove its contents and leave the chest here, then sort through it all later. Seems like a good compromise to me."

Steamknuckle shakes his head in disgust at the creature still cowering before the party. "I can't say I'm fully in agreement about sparing this thing's life, but if Zhaquadan thinks we should, then that's enough for me."
This message was last edited by the player at 03:25, Fri 14 July 2017.

"Agreed." Rudo sifts through his backpack until he produces a plain canvas sack. The others quickly help transfer the contents of the chest into the sack, after which he ties it shut and drops it into his pack.

He looks down into the chest. Only the sword in its fine silver-chased scabbard remains. He picks it up. "Lovely piece. Probably worth some hefty coin, especially if it's magic." As he speaks, the creature, standing nearby, stares despondently at the weapon glittering in the light of Willow's claw.

"Not my style, sadly. Anyone else want to use it?" Rudo looks around at the party.

"Much too big for me." Willow turns to Zhaquadan. "What about you? Hammers seem to be your thing, but a longsword works just as well with a shield. Want to give it a try?"

"Of course, if you take the sword, then we'll still need to have it appraised so we can take its value out of your gold share."

Steamknuckle shakes his head, almost sadly. "My poor Rudo. So concerned over every lost copper. Perhaps you've forgotten the company charter we all agreed to...salvaged hard assets are to be distributed according to benefit of the company. It's standard procedure, really.

"If this incredibly valuable, potentially magical weapon is an upgrade for Zhaquadan, then he gets it - especially since nobody else wants it. Nobody gets reimbursed for this. Your payment is the improved extent to which his new weapon enables him to protect your greedy, self-absorbed ass.

"Of course, the same is true whenever you manage to get your hands on something you actually want."
This message was last edited by the player at 16:51, Thu 13 July 2017.

"Are we quite finished bickering over this like children?" Willow sighs. "Let's not forget we're in the middle of a cave infested with hostile bandits. I think maintaining some semblance of stealth might be a bit more important than haggling over treasure shares at the moment."

Rudo frowns. "Fine." He looks at Zhaquadan. "So you don't really want this thing, right? Kitten's right. Hammers are really more your thing. Looks more ornamental than anything, anyway."

He gently slides the longsword a bit out of its sheath. The blade is decorated with a detailed etching of knotwork lines, surrounding a stylized inscription of the word "Talon" in fine scrollwork script.

"Oh..." Rudo breathes as he examines the blade. "Of course."

"Oh my..." Steamknuckle says in wonder. "You recognize this?"

"Of course I do. The Black Hawk." Rudo pulls the blade fully out of its scabbard, turning it over in the light. "Look at that edge...as sharp as the day it was forged. Not a spot of rust. This blade has got to be over five hundred years old. Only magic could keep an edge like that."

"Indeed..." Steamknuckle smiles, in an instant seemingly transported from the stress of the moment. "How could I have forgotten? We are beneath Tresendar Manor, after all!"

He looks around at the high stone ceiling of the natural cavern. "And this...of course...the orcs of Uruth Ukrypt laid waste to this town in the year 951 DR. The tales of Sir Aldith Tresendar, the Black Hawk, fighting off orcs in the caverns beneath his castle, cutting them down in hordes with his famous blade 'Talon.' How could I forget?" Steamknuckle looks back at the shining sword with giddy fascination. "Imagine finding this priceless piece of history here, untouched after all these centuries!"

He whirls around again, taking in the distant shadows of the great cavern. "This must be...must be the very spot where he was cut down! Oh...how thrilling!" He lets out a brief, chirping giggle.

The one-eyed creature crouches amongst the party, fidgeting intensely. "Yes...oh yes..." the voice groans in everyone's minds. "You know...thank you...such savory treasures...do you have more?"

Steamknuckle ignores the monster, giving only a small sharp shake of his head as he attempts to prevent its interruption from interfering with the pleasure of his discovery.

"I do not want a piece of history to go to the highest bidder but unfortunately I cannot use this masterful blade.  If Rudo does not want to use it then I will hold it for safe keeping until we can determine its worth and further disposition.   For now we should keep moving."

Turning his attention to the creature Zhaquadan asks "What do you know of this place and its inhabitants both old and new?  Which way should we proceed to take its current inhabitants by surprise?"
This message was last edited by the player at 03:51, Sat 15 July 2017.

"I'll take the sword." Rudo slings his greataxe over his shoulder, then straps the longsword's scabbard to his belt. He continues to turn the blade over in his hands, inspecting the flawless blade with nodding approval.

The creature looks up at Zhaquadan, blinking its enormous eye once. "We do not know the ones who lived here long ago. Bones, now...though they still walk. Keep away from their resting place...if you hope to let their anger sleep." It points a gnarled claw to the northeast, toward the wide passageway at the north end of the cavern.

"The bones do not bother the red ones. We do not know why. Some...secret sorcery of the dark one. It is good to be friends...with the master of the dead.

"The red ones...they roam all about. They stay away from us...but we see them passing. They leave us food. Much food...locked behind doors near the walking bones." The claw points again to the northeast.

"The red ones are all around. Some great and some small. They stink and clank and shout...chase away our sweet darkness. We hate them. But...the black one, whose name is paper...it is our friend. It comes here sometimes, to talk to us. It hates them too...wears the face of the red ones, but its heart is free. Perhaps...you could strike a bargain with it as well."

Steamknuckle glances from the monster to Zhaquadan, looking puzzled. "There it goes again about the one whose...'name is paper,'" the gnome whispers. "What do you think that means?"

The monster ignores Steamknuckle, continuing its telepathic rattle. "Most of the red ones are down..." pointing again to the passage just behind Zhaquadan to the northwest. "They guard the dark one...and shout their nasty swill at each other while we try to sleep. Yes, we hate them...but they are many. If you go that way, you will...not be safe.

"The dark one, though..." The creature pauses to lick its teeth again. "He moves in many ways. One way is through the bright stench of his red ones. But another..." It turns to gaze through the wide passage to the north. "There is a dark way. His red ones know not...but we...we are the holders of many secrets."

The creature turns back again to Zhaquadan. "As we said...the darkness...is safer than the light."

"Perhaps we should start to the north.   What do you think?" Zhaquadan asks the party.

"Yes," Rudo rumbles. "This thing's riddles confuse and infuriate me, but that much seemed clear. The wizard must have a back door or something back there."

"Very well." Willow turns to face the creature. She shivers slightly at the still unsettling view of its single unblinking eye. "You've shown good faith so far, but don't think I've forgotten the first thing you said to me. I don't trust you. Now go, slink off to your dark hole down there and keep quiet. If you see any Redbrands or anything else that might be a threat to us, attack them. Otherwise, stay out of our way."

The creature bows slightly in acquiescence, before scooping up the now-empty chest and scuttling down the side of the chasm into the shadows of its rubble-strewn floor. It quickly disappears into the darkness under the bridge.

The party gathers themselves and heads northeast, over the wooden plank bridge crossing the chasm. Willow tucks the glowing troll's claw into her belt pouch to conceal its light. Familiar shades of gray settle over the darkened cavern as those with darkvision adjust to the gloom.

The bridge dips gently as they cross, but holds firm, and the party quickly crosses with no difficulty. Soon they find themselves huddled in the wide passageway leading north out of the great cavern.

At the threshold, the rough stone of the cavern gives way to a smooth square chamber, finished with dressed stone block walls and a flagstone floor. Several barrels are stored against the walls here, along with a number of empty crates, straw for packing, hammers, pry bars, and nails. Iron lamp sconces sit empty along the darkened walls. The room is otherwise empty and silent.
This message was last edited by the GM at 18:43, Mon 07 Aug 2017.

Zhaquadan begins searching the room as quietly as he can,  opening and moving anything he can.

The party joins in as Zhaquadan begins rummaging through the room. Spreading out, they quickly examine every barrel and crate. Most are empty or contain only mundane goods of no value, but one crate is found stacked with a pile of fine brown animal pelts that look like they might be worth something.

While Rudo assesses the pelts, Zhaquadan studies the walls enclosing the room. He finds it peculiar that aside from the main cavern passageway, this finished storeroom has no other visible entrances or exits.

Sure enough, after a minute of feeling along the walls, a smooth stone block in the southwest corner slides back gently at his touch. A narrow hidden passageway opens up behind it, descending into darkness to the right.

Excited by this discovery, but cautioning the rest of the party against undue haste, Zhaquadan moves on to complete his circuit of the room. In particular, the small nook cut into the northeast wall draws his attention, since it serves no apparent purpose in the otherwise plain square chamber.

Zhaquadan pushes gently against the stone panel at the rear of the nook, then steps back with satisfaction as it too swings back toward him on hidden hinges. A lamplit passage extends off to the right, with a sturdy oak door directly opposite.
This message was last edited by the GM at 18:44, Mon 07 Aug 2017.

Zhaquadan silently pulls his hammer out and motions towards his group to join him.  When he is satisfied of everyone's readiness he quickly opens the oak door.

As quietly as possible, the party huddles through the secret door into the north end of a stone corridor about 15 feet long. Two burning oil lamps brightly illuminate the passage from sconces set into either wall. Another sturdy wooden door stands closed at the far end of the hall.

With his allies at his back, Zhaquadan reaches out to grasp the iron handle of the door in front of him. The door is firmly locked.

Steamknuckle edges a bit closer to Zhaquadan. "Why are we going this way?" he whispers. "The eye thing pointed the other way when it said where the 'dark one' was. And that's what the bandit in Sildar's jail cell said too. The 'west end' of the cellars, he said."
This message was last edited by the player at 16:26, Tue 08 Aug 2017.

"What about those furs?" Rudo asks. "They're worth some gold. You ought to know by now I ain't leaving a single bent copper behind."

" I don't want to leave any stone unturned.  It's locked anyway so let's go the other way" Zhaquadan says as he turns and points down the corridor.

"But wait," Willow interjects in a strained voice. "That's south. The bandit said he'd be on the west side of the stronghold. The eye thing pointed that way too. We're wasting time and risking our lives if we keep going this way. What are you doing? Gundren's still waiting on us!"

"Calm down, Kitten," Rudo says. "Old Mudskipper here knows what he's doing. We're just locking down the perimeter to prevent the bad guys from sneaking up on us from behind. Right, Mudskipper? Don't worry. We'll get Glasstaff. Won't take but a few extra minutes to do it right."

He shrugs, smiling at Zhaquadan. "And if we should happen to liberate a few extra coins from warm Redbrand corpses along the way, then even better. No harm done. We'll come back for the furs later."
This message was last edited by the player at 18:18, Tue 08 Aug 2017.

"This is insane." Willow shakes her head, looking to Zhaquadan for agreement. "Don't forget our mission! We're not here to loot every buried copper. We're here to get the leverage we need to save Gundren, then out the door before they find us!"

"Oh, Kitten..." Rudo shakes his head in mock disapproval. "What about all those poor villagers? Forgot all about them, didn't you? Gundren's not the only one who matters in this town, you know. We have other duties too."

He scratches his chin, feigning sudden realization. "Like, say, perhaps that 200 gold Sildar's putting up to clear out the Redbrands. You know...ALL of them. Not just Glasstaff."

Rudo sighs. "Think about it, Kitten. The Redbrands are clearly allied with the goblins. Sure, we cut the head off the snake, maybe the body scatters. But where do you suppose they scatter off to? Straight to that castle, is where my money says. Something tells me that wouldn't be too good for old Gundren. So...seems to me every Redbrand we put a blade through gets us that much closer to both our goals. Don't you think?"

Steamknuckle steps between the two. "Doesn't matter much to me which way we go first. Either way has its merits." He turns to Zhaquadan. "What do you think?"

"Like I said, quietly, let's go the other way" Zhaquadan says pointing to the west.  Zhaquadan then begins moving to other secret passage he found on the west side of the store room.
This message was last edited by the player at 21:33, Wed 09 Aug 2017.

Rudo shrugs, then turns to step back through the secret door into the storeroom. Willow nods in approval and does the same. As Steamknuckle and Zhaquadan follow through the opening, the dwarf turns to gently close the door behind him, sealing off the lamplight from the corridor beyond. Burgess nuzzles against Willow protectively as darkness settles once again.

Back in the storeroom, Rudo takes the lead, moving over to the southwest corner to quietly reopen the other secret door. He steps through. The party follows.

They find themselves at the top of a narrow stone staircase descending about 20 feet to the north. The stairs curve sharply to the left as they reach the bottom, ending suddenly at a smooth stone wall facing west.

"I don't see a door down there," Rudo whispers, "but I'd wager it's just another hidden one. The stairs go straight down into the wall."

He turns to face the rest of the party, huddled behind him in the doorway. "Who knows what's down there. Be ready." He hefts his longsword.

Steamknuckle seems visibly anxious. "This is what we came for, right?" He speaks more to himself than anyone else in particular. "Okay then. Let's go get this done."

He pulls the small pewter rod from his belt, murmuring some arcane phrases while tracing an intricate pattern in the air with the rod. Faint sparkles of light appear for a moment in the air about him, descending onto his clothes like fine dust before disappearing.

OOC: Steamknuckle casts Mage Armor on himself.

Rudo nods and turns back toward the stairs. Sword ready, he descends slowly and quietly. The party follows close behind.

At the bottom, Rudo reaches out to feel along the stone wall in front of him. The wall gives way easily at his gentle pressure, swinging back slightly on hidden hinges. He turns back for a moment to confirm the group's readiness before easing the door open more fully with a silent push.

The door opens on what appears to be a brightly lit bedchamber. Its walls are covered with drapes of scarlet cloth. The furnishings include a small writing desk with matching chair, a comfortable-looking bed, and a wooden chest at the foot of the bed.

Sitting at the desk is a short human male in robes with a thick dark beard, studying a tome. He wears a princely mantle of ermine. A beautiful glass staff leans against his chair, within easy reach. He doesn't seem to notice the party enter.

The moment the man appears in view, a low, rumbling growl comes pouring out of Burgess's throat. The man suddenly freezes in mid page-turn.
This message was last edited by the GM at 05:22, Thu 10 Aug 2017.

Willow quickly reaches down to clamp the dog's mouth shut. "You stupid mutt..." she grumbles under her breath.

The party members all look down at the dog in disbelief. Then they look back up at the man.

He casually closes his book, leaning back into his chair. Without even turning to face the intruders, he says, "My honored guests. What brings you to my humble home? " His voice is rich and fluid, and carefully composed without a hint of reproach or concern.

The party watches the man in silence for a moment, not sure how to respond. Everyone seems somewhat caught off guard by his unexpectedly calm and courteous manner. Finally Willow steps forward, Burgess close beside her.

"I think you know why we're here," she declares. "You're the one in charge of this rabble?"
This message was last edited by the player at 16:58, Fri 11 Aug 2017.

The man turns his head to face Willow directly. He smiles. "Yes. Unfortunately. They call me...'Glasstaff.' A crude nickname, but well earned, I suppose." He grasps the fine glass staff leaning against his chair, balancing it horizontally across both hands to admire its smooth surface glittering in the lamplight. "You can see why. Honest men, they are, with little artifice. Their methods tend to get straight to the point."

He looks back up at the party. "But I'm afraid you have me at a bit of a loss. Esteemed guests of my lovely town are always welcome here in my home, but...you said I should already know why you're here? I'm afraid I have no idea, my dear. What exactly is it my good gentlemen have done this time?"

Rudo laughs. "Look at the balls on this one. I like your style. Too bad there's a bounty on your head."

"I think you've been working with idiots a little too long, Mr. Glasstaff," Steamknuckle says in a dry tone. "Tends to make one start thinking everyone they meet is an idiot. We're not, I assure you."

Glasstaff's smile fades a little. His grip on the staff tightens almost imperceptibly. "I see. I'm afraid you might have gotten the wrong impression, my friends. It's true, my good associates have been known to deal in some...unpleasant business in the past. But that's all over now, I assure you."

He smiles more widely again, scanning the party as he speaks. "This town is my home. I love this town. My associates and I work to protect it from the many threats of the surrounding area. Perhaps you weren't aware, but this is not exactly a safe place to live, my friends. Before we arrived, there was nothing here to protect the people from the brutal depredations of all the goblins and orcs living out there in the hills.

"What has that fat fool Wester done in all the time he's been here, I ask you? Nothing. You all look like you've seen your fair share of the wild country. You know how it is out there. You build a quiet little mining town, way out here in the hills, far from the protection of Neverwinter...then build up some wealth, a nice juicy little store of goods to plunder, and yet do nothing to establish any defenses to protect it? Those eyes out there in the hills are watching, friends. You know that. Do you suppose they haven't noticed how Phandalin has grown? Do you suppose they'll wait around for the 'Lord's Alliance' to send help, for a fair fight before they attack?

"Of course not. If it weren't for us, this town would be a smoking ruin by now."

Willow fixes Glasstaff with a withering glare. "Tell that to the woodcarver you murdered. I'm sure he appreciates all the help you've given this town. And his family? I don't suppose you'd know what became of them, either?"

The smile disappears entirely. "I'll kindly forget that insult, halfling. Just this once. Don't forget you're a guest in my home.

"The woodcarver and his family left. Of their own free will. He was a paranoid fool, and he rejected our protection out of some unfounded insanity that we might 'abuse our power.' Quite the contrary. We have no power here. Wester, fat fop that he is, is still the townmaster. We live here by the good graces of the townsfolk, and should he, or they, ask us to leave, then we would be gone within the day.

"But have they? Of course not. Only Dendrar was stupid enough to see us as anything but the saviors of this ungrateful little town. So he left. Back to Neverwinter, I suppose, or maybe over to Triboar. Who knows. Good riddance, I say."

"You're lying."

Steamknuckle quickly steps in. "Perhaps what you say is true, at least as far as you know it. But there seems to be a bit of a discrepancy between how you see things and how the townsfolk see it. I assure you, your men have been anything but the faithful stewards of this town you seem to think they are. It seems Dendrar was...perhaps right to fear an abuse of power."

He raises his hands, palms up, in a conciliatory gesture. "We're here with a representative of the Lord's Alliance from Neverwinter, Sildar Hallwinter. He's in the townmaster's hall now. Just come in with us, have a few words with him, and I'm sure we can clear this up. We'll get to the bottom of which of your men have strayed a bit off the path, set them straight, and then the town can get back to its peaceful ways.

"Surely a gentleman such as yourself would have no objection to a diplomatic approach?"

Glasstaff's face tightens visibly at the mention of Sildar and the Lord's Alliance. He pauses for a long moment, staring at Steamknuckle, before he responds.

"Look. So maybe my men were involved in a few...unfortunate events. Sometimes that's just the cost of doing business. I'm sure you can understand that. You lot look like enterprising folks."

He turns to Rudo. "You mentioned...a bounty? From Hallwinter, I suppose. And how much did he offer you? No, don't answer that. It doesn't matter. Whatever it was, it's nothing compared to the riches this town has to offer.

"Don't be fools. I suppose you must have killed a few of my men by now. No matter. We're looking to expand anyway. Break some eggs to make an omelet, and all that.

"Let me put it simply. We're on to something big here. Riches beyond what you can possibly imagine. Forget about Hallwinter's petty 'justice.' Within a fortnight, every one of us, down to the lowliest lickspittle in my employ, will be richer than anyone you've ever known. You can be a part of that. Join me now, and I'll give you two shares each. Twice as much as my highest captains. They won't be too happy about that, but...look at yourselves. Clearly you're more capable than anyone in my service thus far.

"Let me spell that out for you. That's thousands, and thousands, of gold pieces. Each. Within the month."

He gives the party an earnest, if somewhat strained, look. "What do you say?"
This message was last edited by the player at 17:05, Fri 11 Aug 2017.

Rudo's eyes widen dramatically at the mention of so much gold.

"I think it would be best if you accompanied us back to the town hall to clear this up with the townsfolk and their representative. We can talk business after we have assured that the town is actually safe."

Glasstaff gives Zhaquadan a brittle, almost sad smile. "Most unfortunate," he says, as his fingers tighten around the staff. He shrugs and spreads his other hand in a strange, seemingly conciliatory gesture, shaking his head sadly as he mutters something under his breath.

"Now you know we can't do that. Hallwinter will not listen to reason. We must strike our deal here and now."
This message was last edited by the player at 23:13, Fri 11 Aug 2017.

"You're right..." Willow breathes, nodding her head in wonder as if suddenly realizing something. She looks around at the party. "Why didn't we see it before? Sildar...he's nothing but a common thug! There's no way this man is a threat to this town. It's all been one big pack of lies!"

She sheathes both of her shortswords. "I'm so sorry," she says, turning to Glasstaff. "He had us fooled the whole time...I can't believe it..."

Steamknuckle takes a single, almost stumbling step backward. His brow is furrowed in confusion as he stares at Willow. "What...what are you talking about?" He looks back at Glasstaff. "What manner of trickery is this?"

"Enough!"Zhaquadan yells as he rushes to swing his hammer at Glasstaff.

OOC: 1H warhammer attack
14:41, Today: Zhaquadan Mudsmither rolled 18 using 1d20+4 with rolls of 14.  1H warhammer attack.
14:42, Today: Zhaquadan Mudsmither rolled 7 using 1d8+2 with rolls of 5.  1H warhammer damage (bludgeoning).

Seeing Zhaquadan lunge forward with his warhammer, Willow quickly steps in front of him to block his advance. "No! What are you doing?" she shouts, waving her small arms frantically in his face. "He's a friend!"

OOC: Combat ensues. Initiative order:

Initiative Roll	Character
22	Willow
18	Steamknuckle
16	Zhaquadan
11	Peas
9	Glasstaff
8	Burgess
6	Rudo

Willow is using the Help action (PHB p.192) to attempt to protect Glasstaff from Zhaquadan's attack. Normally the Help action can only be used to grant advantage on an ally's next attack roll or ability check. However, as a special ruling, since Willow is a member of the party and Zhaquadan could not have foreseen her interference, her Help action is sufficiently distracting to impose disadvantage on Zhaquadan's current melee attack.
This message was last edited by the player at 21:02, Sun 13 Aug 2017.

With the tension in the room erupting into violence, Steamknuckle's frazzled nerves give way to mindless instinct as he impulsively releases a blast of freezing energy at Glasstaff.

The wizard reacts instantaneously, raising his staff against the incoming ray. The energy dissipates harmlessly across an invisible convex barrier of force centered on the tip of the staff.

OOC: Ranged attack with Ray of Frost cantrip.
11:46, Today: Steamknuckle rolled 12 using 1d20+5 with rolls of 7.  Ray of Frost cantrip attack.
Glasstaff deflects the attack using some effect of his magical staff.
This message was last edited by the player at 19:35, Tue 26 Sept 2017.

With Willow obstructing the path to his target, Zhaquadan is forced to pull up short on his swing. He manages to skirt around her to finally deliver the blow, but the delay gives Glasstaff enough time to leap up out of his chair and raise the point of his staff in defense.

The hammer hurtles past the upraised staff, striking the same invisible barrier that stopped Steamknuckle's spell. The barrier's translucent surface flashes for an instant with the impact, and Zhaquadan feels a jarring bounce as if his weapon were skidding across the unyielding surface of a stone wall.

However, the force of the swing is formidable. Even with the resistance of the magical shield, the point of the hammer drives down through it to cuff Glasstaff's elbow with a satisfying crunch. He yelps in pain as he backpedals away from the onslaught.

OOC: Second roll for disadvantage imposed on Zhaquadan's melee attack by Willow's interference.
14:41, Today: Zhaquadan Mudsmither rolled 18 using 1d20+4 with rolls of 14.  1H warhammer attack.
This message was last edited by the GM at 12:37, Mon 14 Aug 2017.

Peas swoops off Steamknuckle's shoulder and into Glasstaff's face, fluttering and clawing to distract him before she flies off to circle the room at a distance.

OOC: Flying to Glasstaff, performing the Help action, then flying away.
The Help action (PHB p.192) is targeted at assisting Rudo's next attack.
This message was last edited by the GM at 12:40, Mon 14 Aug 2017.

Clutching his battered elbow with a low moan of pain, Glasstaff grits his teeth and grips the shaft of his staff tightly. A small shower of luminescent sparks sprays onto him from the staff, settling on his robes like a layer of glittering dust before disappearing.

OOC: Glasstaff targets himself with some effect of his magical staff.

Burgess begins to lunge toward Glasstaff with a snarl, but Willow whirls to stop him with a sharp command. The dog halts in his tracks, looking up at her in confusion. His eyes dart around the room, taking in the sudden movements of the combatants, and he gives a low whimper as he looks back to Willow for guidance.

As the situation escalates into open combat, Rudo holds back a moment, frowning at the prospect of losing so much gold. Then the twinkle of bloodlust takes over and he shrugs, diving in with a two-handed grip on his longsword.

His ferocious assault catches Glasstaff completely off-guard, crashing through all of his magical defenses with ease. The hapless wizard is left gasping and sprawled on the floor. Blood pours from a huge, gruesome gash across his chest. The glass staff rolls out of his fingers and clatters onto the flagstones as his consciousness expires.

OOC: Melee attack with longsword.
05:50, Today: Rudo rolled 26 using 1d20+6 with rolls of 20.  Longsword attack.
05:53, Today: Rudo rolled 12 using 1d20+6 with rolls of 6.  Longsword attack, with advantage due to Peas' distraction.
05:53, Today: Rudo rolled 17 using 2d10+4 with rolls of 8,5.  Longsword damage (slashing), rolled twice due to critical hit.

Glasstaff is left unconscious and barely alive, but quickly dying.

"No!" Willow screams. She rushes to kneel beside Glasstaff's unconscious body. "What are you doing? He was just trying to help! You people are insane!" She immediately begins working to dress the wizard's wound to keep him alive.

After a moment she manages to get the bleeding to stop, and it seems Glasstaff will likely survive.

OOC: Administering first aid to stabilize Glasstaff (see "Stabilizing a Creature", PHB p.197)
06:15, Today: Willow rolled 19 using 1d20+2 with rolls of 17.  Medicine, to stabilize Glasstaff.

"I don't get it, Kitten," Rudo remarks as he casually wipes the blood from his blade. "How'd he get to be your best buddy all of a sudden?"

"She's been charmed," Steamknuckle replies. "Strong magic. He doesn't need to concentrate on it once it sticks, so it'll last another good hour even if he dies."

"Charmed?" Willow regards Steamknuckle with a blank look. "No...he just...it made sense..." She looks down at the floor, frowning.

 Zhaquadan quickly snatches up the glass staff and begins searching the room while keeping one eye on the wizard on the floor.
"Willow I'm sorry but this was not going to end any other way.  You are under his influence now so just stay calm.  Keep an eye on her and Burgess in case the spell causes her to do something else we will all regret " Zhaquadan says as he continues to search the room.
This message had punctuation tweaked by the player at 16:08, Mon 14 Aug 2017.

Steamknuckle sits down on the floor next to Willow, trying to explain in soft tones exactly what happened to her. She remains motionless, listening intently with a confused look on her face. Burgess sits faithfully beside her. Occasionally she nods, and over time her expression begins to soften as she accepts the sensibility of Steamknuckle's explanation. The entire time, however, she remains firmly beside Glasstaff's unconscious body, glaring up at Rudo and Zhaquadan any time they pass within a few feet.

Meanwhile, the two dwarves scour the room for anything interesting. The bed contains nothing of interest, just a plain straw mattress over a wooden frame with furs for blankets. The sturdy wooden chest at its foot, however, is unlocked and contains a sizeable heap of gold and silver coins, a small silk pouch holding a handful of precious gems, and a pair of parchment scrolls bound with ribbon. Rudo dumps the coins and gems into his treasure sack while Zhaquadan passes the scrolls over to Steamknuckle. The gnome explains he'll need time to study the scrolls in order to identify them, so they too are transferred to Rudo's treasure sack for later dispensation.

Aside from this only the desk remains. Zhaquadan steps over to it, flipping through the heavy book Glasstaff had been reading - a ponderous tome on the basics of alchemy titled "Transmutation and the Aetherium: a Treatise by Deirdre Pond the Elegant." Its wooden cover is stained a deep crimson and punctuated with silver rivets. Setting this aside, Zhaquadan begins shuffling through the various papers and notes stacked neatly on the desk. They seem to consist mostly of written orders to apothecaries and alchemists in nearby settlements for various materials.

Zhaquadan is just reaching the bottom of such a pile of papers when a loud knock comes from the door on the west side of the room. A muffled voice calls through the wood. "Is everything okay in there, boss?" The voice is slurred and drunken. "We...heard some noises a few minutes ago, and...then your rat came out. Just wanna be sure everything's okay."

Zhaquadan moves quickly but quietly to the door ready for combat while waving to Rudo and pointing at the door.

Rudo gives Zhaquadan a confused and exasperated look. He moves toward the closed door, sword in hand. "What are we doing?" he whispers. "Am I supposed to talk him off? Or just kill him?"

Steamknuckle stands up. He whispers urgently. "If we kill this one, then it may draw more. Do you want to deal with that now?"

He glances back at the secret entrance. "We've got a quick exit. We don't need to fight our way out. Are we done here?" He nods toward the desk with its neat stacks of paperwork.

"Boss?" The drunken voice comes a bit louder through the door. "Can you hear me, boss?"

Zhaquadan rips the door open and takes a mighty swing at the first creature he sees on the other side.

OOC: 1H warhammer attack.
15:57, Today: Zhaquadan Mudsmither rolled 24 using 1d20+4 with rolls of 20.  1H warhammer attack.
15:59, Today: Zhaquadan Mudsmither rolled 3 using 1d8+2 with rolls of 1.  1H warhammer damage (bludgeoning).
10:47, Today: Wizzrobe, on behalf of Zhaquadan Mudsmither, rolled 8 using 1d8 with rolls of 8.  Extra die of bludgeoning damage due to critical hit.
This message was last edited by the GM at 17:48, Fri 29 Sept 2017.

The door flings open. Leaning heavily against the frame on the other side is an older man, mostly bald with patches of gray hair at his temples beneath the frayed leather band of an eye patch. A scarlet cloak hangs over his studded leather armor. He looks up at the sudden rush of air from the opening door, and his one visible eye widens dramatically as he steps backward in surprise.

In the next instant, Zhaquadan's warhammer comes swinging around in a vicious back-handed blow. The man has no time to react. The head of the hammer strikes him squarely in the chest, grinding across the tacky leather to send him spinning to the right with the impact. He exhales a wheezing grunt as he stumbles to the side.

In the space cleared by the man's sideways stumble, a large square room opens up. Its walls, floor and ceiling are of the same finished stone as Glasstaff's room, but dominating its center is a large wooden worktable set up with alembics, retorts, distillation coils, and other alchemical devices, all of it stewing and bubbling away. The opposite wall is lined with bookshelves crowded with sheaves of parchment and strange-looking tomes. It appears at first glance to be a wizard's workshop.

Just as the man stumbles aside, a small brown rat catches Zhaquadan's eye scurrying into the shadows under the worktable.

OOC: Zhaquadan's sudden strike earns him a surprise round. Rudo also gets to act during this round, since he was standing beside the door with his weapon ready. Everyone else is surprised.

Combat ensues. Initiative order:

Initiative Roll	Character
20	Burgess
18	Willow
16	Rudo
10	Rat
9	Redbrand
7	Peas
4	Steamknuckle
3	Zhaquadan

This message was last edited by the GM at 19:59, Fri 29 Sept 2017.

As soon as Zhaquadan draws his weapon back, relinquishing enough of the doorway for his companion to strike through, Rudo lunges forward to catch the stumbling ruffian with an errant thrust of his longsword. The man's lateral motion carries him just outside Rudo's reach, however, and the blade misses its mark by barely an inch. Rudo draws his weapon back for another swing.

OOC: Melee attack with longsword.
11:58, Today: Rudo rolled 11 using 1d20+6 with rolls of 5.  Longsword attack.
This message was last edited by the player at 19:11, Fri 29 Sept 2017.

The nearby melee drives Burgess into a frenzy, and he leaps up to charge the ruffian in the doorway. This time Willow makes no effort to stop him.

However, the mass of bodies crowding the narrow doorway thwarts his passage. He barks in frustration as he darts from side to side, looking for an opening between the two stout dwarves and finding nothing.

OOC: Melee bite attack by Burgess.
12:27, Today: Wizzrobe, for the NPC Burgess, rolled 10 using 1d20+3 with rolls of 7.  Bite attack.

Willow, still sitting protectively beside Glasstaff's unconscious body, finally stands up. She moves over behind Burgess, grabbing his haunches to drag him slightly away from the danger of the doorway. The dog calms down a bit and places himself defensively between his mistress and the melee unfolding before them.

Willow draws one of her shortswords, carefully observing the action, but makes no move to join the fight.

OOC: Taking the Ready action (PHB p.193) to attack any hostile create that enters the room.
This message was last edited by the player at 19:46, Fri 29 Sept 2017.

Rudo presses forward into the doorway with a snarl, slashing savagely at the ruffian. As he passes through the portal, he fails to notice the slightly raised lip of the threshold and trips over it. He stumbles forward, blade swinging wide, and crashes to the floor of the next room in an enraged heap.

He quickly scrambles to his feet, cursing as spittle flies from his clenched teeth.

OOC: Melee attack with longsword.
12:47, Today: Rudo rolled 7 using 1d20+6 with rolls of 1.  Longsword attack.

The tiny brown rat flees, scurrying out from under the table and off to the south, across the floor and through the door at the far end of the room. Zhaquadan now notices that this door is standing slightly ajar. The rat disappears into the darkness.

The red-cloaked ruffian steadies himself, clutching at his battered chest and gasping for breath. "Help...help..." he tries to cry, turning toward the door at the south end of the room. The cry comes out as little more than a whisper from his ruined chest.

Limping, he skirts around Rudo as the dwarf struggles to regain his footing. He manages to slip by safely before Rudo can bring his weapon to bear, then quickly darts out the open door to the south, disappearing into the shadows beyond.

OOC: Using the Disengage action to escape without provoking attacks of opportunity.

Steamknuckle rushes over to Zhaquadan's side. Peas flutters to his shoulder. "Well done, you fools. Now he'll bring the whole fortress down on us!"

However, as he catches sight of the contents of the next room, it's as if Steamknuckle suddenly forgets all about the danger of the moment. He stares in astonishment at the complex apparatus arrayed on the worktable.

Zhaquadan closes the door the ruffian had just run through and says "Rudo get ready" as he takes a position to the side of the door ready for battle.

Rudo moves to the other side of the closed door, flattening himself against the wall. He clutches his longsword with both hands and nods to communicate his readiness to Zhaquadan.

Steamknuckle and Willow take up positions behind the central worktable. Willow readies her bow and nocks an arrow while Burgess crouches alongside her, ready to spring into action.

OOC: Everyone in the party is taking the Ready action (PHB p.193) to attack any hostile create that enters the room.
This message was last edited by the GM at 19:25, Sat 30 Sept 2017.

"Just don't damage any of this equipment!" Steamknuckle urges. "Or anything in those bookshelves!"

The party waits in tense silence. After a few moments, the muffled sounds of footsteps and drunken bickering begin to approach from the other side of the door.

"Go on, lads! Do your jobs!"

"But you said there's a small army of them in there! Ten at least!"

"What should we do?"

"Glasstaff is in there! We have to save him!"

"They must have killed him by now."

It's hard to tell how many men are speaking, but it sounds like multiple distinct voices. All of them seem to be heavily slurred with drunkenness.

"Oh, hell no. He owes us. No way in nine hells I'm giving up all that gold now."

"What are we going to do against ten men?"

After a moment of silence, a peculiarly odd-sounding voice replies, "Whatever you do, my good gentlemen, guard this door with your lives. Your shares in the operation depend on it." Aside from the somewhat hollow sound of the voice, it sounds exactly as if Glasstaff himself were standing on the other side of the door, speaking to his men.

"Shut up, crow. No one asked you."

Another pause. Then, "Fuck this." Footsteps scrape across the floor as the sounds of shoving and scuffling break out. "You lot are a bunch of milk-drinking pussies. See you in hell, ladies!"

Suddenly the door bursts open, and a burly, dirty-looking thug in a red cloak comes rushing through, drawn shortsword in hand. With him comes a gust of acrid alcohol stench, as if he had taken a bath in cheap liquor just before entering the room.
This message was last edited by the GM at 21:35, Sat 30 Sept 2017.

Zhaquadan lets fly with his warhammer. However, the sudden opening of the door interferes slightly with the angle of his swing, giving the ruffian just barely enough time to notice the incoming hammer and duck nimbly out of the way. He turns to face Zhaquadan with a howling battle cry.

Two more drunken faces appear in the doorway behind the first: a greasy-looking man with long black hair and a red-eyed halfling. Both wear the same grimy red cloaks and clutch shortswords in their hands.

OOC: Triggering Ready action to make a melee attack with warhammer.
10:29, Today: Zhaquadan Mudsmither rolled 6 using 1d20+4 with rolls of 2.  1H warhammer attack.
This message was last edited by the GM at 04:26, Sun 01 Oct 2017.

Burgess springs into action, uncoiling from behind the table like a pouncing panther. In a heartbeat he's in the air, barreling into the lead thug's chest with jaws snapping. Both tumble to the ground in a snarling jumble. The mastiff's huge maw clamps down firmly on the man's meaty shoulder, thrashing back and forth to the sound of his screaming. Blood sprays across the floor in fine droplets.

The two ruffians in the doorway freeze, staring down in horror at the scene unfolding before them.

OOC: Triggering Ready action to make a melee bite attack.
14:16, Today: Wizzrobe, for the NPC Burgess, rolled 17 using 1d20+3 with rolls of 14.  Bite attack.
14:17, Today: Wizzrobe, for the NPC Burgess, rolled 4 using 1d6+1 with rolls of 3.  Bite damage (piercing).
14:18, Today: Wizzrobe, for the NPC Redbrand, rolled 8 using 1d20 with rolls of 8.  Strength save to resist the mastiff's knock prone feature on successful bite attacks.
This message was last edited by the GM at 02:41, Sun 01 Oct 2017.

With the practiced patience of a hunter, Willow waits until Burgess has cleared the lead bandit from her view. As soon as both are on the ground, she takes in the sight of the two bandits behind them, aiming for a split second at the head of the taller target before releasing her arrow with a steady exhale.

The bandit looks up at Willow just as she fires. He tries to duck, but too late. The arrow strikes him in the meat between his neck and shoulder. He clutches at it, gasping in pain, as Willow calmly nocks her next arrow.

OOC: Triggering Ready action to make a ranged attack with shortbow.
19:36, Today: Willow rolled 26 using 1d20+7 with rolls of 19.  Shortbow attack.
19:39, Today: Willow rolled 7 using 1d6+3 with rolls of 4.  Shortbow damage (piercing).
This message was last edited by the player at 04:32, Sun 01 Oct 2017.

Steamknuckle bounces up, thrusts a beam of magical frost at the same bandit just struck by Willow's arrow, and immediately crouches back down behind the table.

The beam sears the length of the bandit's abdomen with steaming ice, leaving him staggering, gasping, and barely clinging to life.

OOC: Triggering Ready action to make a ranged attack with Ray of Frost cantrip.
21:35, Today: Steamknuckle rolled 24 using 1d20+5 with rolls of 19.  Ray of Frost cantrip attack.
21:36, Today: Steamknuckle rolled 7 using 1d8 with rolls of 7.  Ray of Frost cantrip damage (cold).

Rudo laughs with delight as he hacks down with his longsword, straight toward the face of the bandit currently being mauled on the floor by Burgess.

However, his laughter turns to more bitter curses as his blade somehow clangs against the solid stone of the floor. He raises his weapon and brings it down, again and again, flailing like a child in a tantrum. Somehow the jerking motion of Burgess's jaws manages to drag the bandit's exposed head away from the deadly blade each time it comes near.

"Blast this shitty sword!" Rudo screams in rage, flinging it aside to scatter across the flagstone floor. "It must be cursed!" He rips his mighty greataxe from its leather loop over his shoulder and turns to slaver at the approaching bandits.

OOC: Triggering Ready action to make a melee attack with longsword.
21:51, Today: Rudo rolled 13 using 1d20+6 with rolls of 7.  Longsword attack.
21:52, Today: Rudo rolled 10 using 1d20+6 with rolls of 4.  Longsword attack, with advantage due to his target being prone.

The ruffian currently pinned beneath Burgess flails around, struggling to grasp his fallen shortsword, but cannot find it. The dog continues to thrash him about in its jaws. Eventually, with a straining grunt, the man pushes the dog up off his body and flings him backwards. Burgess immediately bounds forward again, but the bandit manages to pick up his loose sword and scramble to his feet before the dog can close the distance again. The bandit crouches, blade in hand, ready to accept the dog's second charge.

With a defiant sneer, the black-haired bandit in the doorway shrugs off the pain of his wounds, raises his weapon and charges into the room. Staggering with drunkenness, an arrow still sticking out of his neck and frost congealing across his torso, he stumbles forward to thrust at Rudo. The dwarf laughs in his face as he easily brushes the clumsy attacks aside.

Meanwhile, the halfling bandit beside him darts into the room in the other direction, angling his thrusts at Zhaquadan. The dwarf gets the impression that were his attacker sober, his attacks might carry some weight of skill, expertise even. But in his current bumbling state they prove no more threatening than the onslaught of a squirrel. Zhaquadan easily blocks every thrust, following up the final inept stab with a sharp bash to the halfling's face using the broad surface of his shield. The small bandit is deposited squarely on his rump as his blade goes clattering to the floor.

A fourth face appears in the doorway. It's the aging eyepatch wearer, still wheezing a bit from the devastating blow he took to the chest a minute ago from Zhaquadan's warhammer. This time, surrounded by allies, he finds the courage to seek revenge against the dwarf who wounded him. And once again Zhaquadan's shield rings with the impact of a series of failed blows.

OOC: Melee attack with shortsword on Burgess.
22:25, Today: Wizzrobe, for the NPC Redbrand Ruffian, rolled 7 using 2d20+4, dropping the highest dice only with rolls of 17,3.  Shortsword attack, with disadvantage due to being drunk.
22:27, Today: Wizzrobe, for the NPC Redbrand Ruffian, rolled 9 using 2d20+4, dropping the highest dice only with rolls of 5,11.  Shortsword attack, with disadvantage due to being drunk.

Melee attack with shortsword on Rudo.
22:47, Today: Wizzrobe, for the NPC Redbrand Ruffian, rolled 12 using 2d20+4, dropping the highest dice only with rolls of 12,8.  Shortsword attack, with disadvantage due to being drunk.
22:48, Today: Wizzrobe, for the NPC Redbrand Ruffian, rolled 14 using 2d20+4, dropping the highest dice only with rolls of 10,19.  Shortsword attack, with disadvantage due to being drunk.

Melee attack with shortsword on Zhaquadan.
22:53, Today: Wizzrobe, for the NPC Redbrand Ruffian, rolled 10 using 2d20+4, dropping the highest dice only with rolls of 6,7.  Shortsword attack, with disadvantage due to being drunk.
22:53, Today: Wizzrobe, for the NPC Redbrand Ruffian, rolled 5 using 2d20+4, dropping the highest dice only with rolls of 7,1.  Shortsword attack, with disadvantage due to being drunk.

Melee attack with shortsword on Zhaquadan.
23:12, Today: Wizzrobe, for the NPC Redbrand Ruffian, rolled 10 using 2d20+4, dropping the highest dice only with rolls of 14,6.  Shortsword attack, with disadvantage due to being drunk.
23:13, Today: Wizzrobe, for the NPC Redbrand Ruffian, rolled 10 using 2d20+4, dropping the highest dice only with rolls of 6,20.  Shortsword attack, with disadvantage due to being drunk.

This message was last edited by the GM at 17:59, Sun 01 Oct 2017.

After Zhaquadan repels each of the one-eyed bandit's best attacks, the aging man backs off a moment to take a few breaths and study his opponent for any sign of weakness. Zhaquadan waits and watches for the next attack.

Then, to Zhaquadan's astonishment, a gnarled black hand suddenly melts out of the shadows behind the bandit, wrapping itself across his mouth. The bandit only has time for a slight widening of his eyes in disbelief before another black hand appears at his other side, this one dragging a long curved blade smoothly across the man's exposed throat.

The bandit clutches at his throat, too late. Dark blood cascades from the open slash down the front of his armor. The black hand across his mouth jerks to the side, shoving the gurgling bandit to the floor. The man stares up in accusatory horror at the creature left above him, grasping his throat and trying in vain to croak out some indecipherable phrase before he dies.

The strange-looking black-feathered bird man stares down at its former companion's corpse. It wears a red hooded cloak over its enormous crow's face, its inky black eyes betraying no hint of emotion. Then, its eyes raise to meet Zhaquadan's. Saying nothing, the creature raises its bloodstained blade to its forehead in an apparent salute, before retreating back into the darkness behind the door.

OOC: Melee attack with cutlass on the unsuspecting Redbrand.
23:44, Today: Parchment rolled 18 using 2d20+5, dropping the lowest dice only with rolls of 13,12.  Cutlass attack, with advantage due to being hidden.
23:46, Today: Parchment rolled 4 using 1d6+3 with rolls of 1.  Cutlass damage (slashing).
23:50, Today: Parchment rolled 2 using 1d6 with rolls of 2.  Sneak attack damage (slashing).

Using Rogue "Cunning Action" (PHB p.96) to hide as a bonus action.
This message was last edited by the player at 17:36, Sun 01 Oct 2017.

"Did...did you guys see that?" Steamknuckle stammers. Then he raises his hand to blast the dark-haired bandit with one more magical ray.

The ray strikes true, freezing the bandit solid. He falls backward with a clatter, rolling to a stop like a toppled statue.

OOC: Ranged attack with Ray of Frost cantrip.
00:27, Today: Steamknuckle rolled 18 using 1d20+5 with rolls of 13.  Ray of Frost cantrip attack.
00:28, Today: Steamknuckle rolled 3 using 1d8 with rolls of 3.  Ray of Frost cantrip damage (cold).

Zhaquadan feebly swings at the nearest ruffian.

14:45, Today: Zhaquadan Mudsmither rolled 8 using 1d20+4 with rolls of 4.  1H warhammer attack.
10:05, Today: Wizzrobe, on behalf of Zhaquadan Mudsmither, rolled 11 using 1d20+4 with rolls of 7.  Warhammer attack, with advantage due to the target being prone.
This message was last edited by the GM at 17:06, Mon 02 Oct 2017.

With the one-eye bandit lying dead on the floor, Zhaquadan turns to the halfling sitting dazed on the ground in front of him. He advances and swings his warhammer.

Seeing the hammer hurtling toward him, the bandit manages to shake the stunned glaze from his eyes and scramble back out of the way. The hammer lands an inch from his feet with a resounding crack against the stone floor.
This message was last edited by the GM at 18:11, Mon 02 Oct 2017.

Burgess charges the bandit in front of him. The man is ready this time and rolls with the motion, dodging nimbly out of the way and stabbing down with his shortsword as the dog closes in. Burgess is forced to bound away and circle for another opening.

OOC: Melee bite attack.
10:24, Today: Wizzrobe, for the NPC Burgess, rolled 6 using 1d20+3 with rolls of 3.  Bite attack.

Willow smoothly shifts her aim toward the bandit still embroiled in combat with Burgess. She releases her arrow just as a gap opens up between the two combatants. It strikes the man cleanly through the elbow. His body folds to one side as he yelps in pain, doubling over and staggering a bit with the impact.

OOC: Ranged attack with shortbow.
11:16, Today: Willow rolled 18 using 1d20+7 with rolls of 11.  Shortbow attack.
11:17, Today: Willow rolled 9 using 1d6+3 with rolls of 6.  Shortbow damage (piercing).

Rudo heaves a mighty swing of his greataxe toward the bandit fighting with Burgess. As he begins his swing, his foot slips in a small pool of blood on the floor and he stumbles headlong into the frozen corpse of the bandit lying in front of him. He convulses for a moment on the floor, kicking the corpse away in a red-faced tantrum, before finally regaining his feet.

His dignity remains flopping helplessly on the floor, however.

OOC: Melee attack with greataxe.
11:27, Today: Rudo rolled 6 using 1d20+5 with rolls of 1.  Greataxe attack.

With an agonized grunt, the bandit just shot by Willow attempts to lift his left arm, but cannot. Blood spurts from his side as he tugs, only gouging the arrow deeper into his side where it pins the now useless arm to his body. He looks around. Surrounded by unwounded enemies, two of his friends lying dead on the floor, the ruffian quickly re-evaluates his previous bravado. He flees. Ducking his way through the carnage, he manages to stave off the gauntlet of foes with his one good sword-wielding hand, slipping out through the open door into the shadows of the hallway outside.

The halfling needs no further persuasion. He too slips out on his comrade's heels, not even bothering to pick his sword up off the floor.

OOC: Both Redbrands are using the Disengage action to escape without provoking attacks of opportunity.

The sound of the fleeing bandits' footsteps echoes through the doorway. A moment later, the faint thump of a bowstring is followed by a sharp Wilhelm scream and a skidding thud. One set of feet continues running.

Steamknuckle rushes around the table to Zhaquadan's side. "They're getting away!" he squeaks, peering out the door and into the corridor beyond. Another door stands open across the corridor, revealing a large lamplit chamber to the south.

Sprawled across the floor in the middle of that room is the human bandit's body, with an arrow sprouting from his back. The halfling scurries on past his former comrade's corpse.

Steamknuckle looks at Zhaquadan. "Are you hurt?" He turns to Rudo. "Either of you?"

"Someone should pursue them but be on the lookout for an ambush.  Someone also needs to make sure Glasstaff doesn't wake up and escape" Zhaquadan says as he hurries to check on Glasstaff.

As Zhaquadan speaks, Rudo and Burgess are already out the door and giving chase. He moves to the eastern doorway and looks through. The unconscious wizard is still lying in the same spot on the floor, breathing shallowly.

"Great, ignore the gnome," Steamknuckle mutters. "Dont mind me, I'll just be standing here..."

Peas rubs her tiny head against his and chirps appreciatively.

Zhaquadan begins dragging Glasstaff into the next room and tying him up listening for signs of trouble from his companions. He briefly glances at Steamknuckle and says "You should probably follow them, they may need us at any moment" as he continues to secure his unconscious foe.

Burgess bounds after the escaping halfling ruffian. He closes the distance with blinding speed, leaping at the bandit's scampering haunches. The bandit hears the dog's rushing pursuit and turns back just in time to see a tsunami blur of gray fur and claws hurtling toward him.

The halfling dives desperately to one side. Burgess flies past him, skidding across the floor and scrabbling with his claws to arrest his momentum and come back around for another attack.

OOC: Melee bite attack.
14:42, Today: Wizzrobe, for the NPC Burgess, rolled 5 using 1d20+3 with rolls of 2.  Bite attack.

Willow hurries through the corridor and down to the threshold of the next doorway. She quickly raises her bow, takes aim, and fires. However, Rudo's running form interferes with her line of sight to the ruffian, so she overcompensates slightly and the arrow sails wide, thunking into the back of a wooden chair off to the right.

Willow quickly glances around the room. A worn table and chairs dominate the nearby quadrant of the large square chamber, which is otherwise empty aside from some barrels piled up in the corners and a narrow shelf of basic provisions off to the southwest. The walls are decorated with draperies of brown and red. Several of the barrels are propped up and tapped, and the smell of cheap ale permeates the room.

Stacks of coins appear to be heaped upon the tabletop.

OOC: Ranged attack with shortbow.
14:54, Today: Willow rolled 12 using 1d20+7 with rolls of 5.  Shortbow attack.

Rudo finally catches up with the fleeing halfling. He bellows with savage fury as he swings his greataxe at the bandit's head with all the momentum of his charge. The halfling easily ducks beneath the axe's wild arc. Not prepared for the unchecked inertia of the errant swing, Rudo loses his balance and topples to the floor, sliding past the halfling in a rolling parade of irate shame.

He leaps to his feet and explodes, hurling his axe with a brutal roar toward the pile of barrels in the southeast corner of the room. The axe cleaves a barrel cleanly in half before slamming into the stone wall behind it. A gentle cascade of dark ale begins to pour from the barrel, spreading slowly across the floor.

Rudo snarls like a cornered animal, whipping out the warhammer slung to his belt as he turns back toward the halfling.

OOC: Melee attack with greataxe.
15:22, Today: Rudo rolled 6 using 1d20+5 with rolls of 1.  Greataxe attack.

The halfling ruffian backs away, terrified, until he bumps up against the chair behind him. His eyes nervously dart between the three enemies facing him in the room. "Please...I yield." He raises his empty hands. "See? I have no weapons. I'm unarmed. Please. I'll do whatever you say. Just spare me, please."

Steamknuckle follows behind Willow to look over her shoulder into the room.

"Stand down, Rudo!" he calls. "We can tie him up and deliver him to justice along with Glasstaff. There's no need to kill him!"

Meanwhile, Zhaquadan walks up to Glasstaff in the other room, grabs him by the ankles, and drags his unconscious body out into the laboratory room. Once there he pulls his rope from his pack and begins to securely tie the wizard up.

Burgess growls and advances menacingly toward the halfling ruffian. "Easy, boy," Willow says in a calm tone. The dog stands still, but his low growl continues unabated.

Willow turns to the halfling. "You have two choices. You can either yield to us, and willingly offer yourself up to the town justice, or you can be dinner for him." She nods toward Burgess with a slight smile.

Rudo twitches with rage. The scowl on his face is pure venom. For a moment, it seems as if he will pitch headlong into another murderous charge toward the cowering halfling. Then he scoffs bitterly and whirls around to collect his axe from the wreckage of the ale barrels.

"Yes, yes...I yield," stammers the halfling. He holds his hands up as if offering them to be bound. "Take me to the town justice. I've done nothing wrong, and I have nothing to hide. I'll speak to Wester, and we'll clear all this up."

Rudo laughs as he returns, wiping ale from his axe blade. "Yes...Wester, indeed." He bellows with even deeper laughter.
This message was last edited by the player at 22:39, Fri 06 Oct 2017.

The halfling looks at Rudo, then around at the others. "What's...what's so funny?"

"Never mind that." Steamknuckle looks back toward the doorway they entered by. "Zhaquadan? Are you coming? We'll need to tie this one up, too."

Willow removes a coil of rope from her pack and advances toward the halfling to tie him up. The halfling flinches a bit at her approach, but then sighs and yields. She begins looping the rope around his wrists.
This message was last edited by the player at 21:00, Wed 29 Aug 2018.

After securing the wizard Zhaquadan moves towards his companions and says to the halfling "How many more of you are there here?  What are you hiding here and what is your mission?  Spill your guts or we will do it for you."

The halfling sits back on the nearby chair as Willow continues tying his limbs together. His face bears a deflated expression, his eyes still red with drunkenness. He looks down wearily as he begins speaking.

"We're not hiding anything. The manor house was abandoned. There wasn't enough room for us in town, so we moved in here. No harm done. We're just minding our own business, enjoying a drink or two."

He sighs. "How many of us left? Let's see. There's...well, seems you've killed most of us already. Maybe a few left here. Across the pit, by the stairs. Guarding the prisoners." He looks up suddenly, a nervous look on his face, before continuing quickly. "The rest are probably over at the Sleeping Giant, or around town doing their jobs. Protecting these ungrateful peasants."

He looks squarely at Zhaquadan for the first time. "Why exactly are you here, killing us like this? What have we done to you?"

A harsh chuckle suddenly rings out from behind the party. Startled, everyone whirls around to see the same strange bird-like humanoid stepping out from behind the stack of barrels in the northeast corner of the room, where it had apparently managed to remain hidden from everyone's view until now.

Willow quickly raises her bow and nocks an arrow. Burgess bounds to her side, snarling, and Rudo takes a step toward the creature with his greataxe raised. Only then does everyone pause as the creature's words begin to register.

To the party's amazement, the voice coming from the crow-like creature's mouth seems to be identical to that of the halfling bandit bound in the chair beside them. The incongruity of it is disorienting, but the meaning of the words is unmistakable.

"Hehehe..." the halfling's disembodied voice chuckles hollowly. "Not too good to pay us now, are you, Dendrar?" The voice tsks with mock sadness as the creature rubs a thoughtful thumb across the pommel of its sheathed blade. Then suddenly the voice changes, as if the creature were reciting some bizarre ventriloquist's drama.

"Please, I've said I'll pay," the new voice wails. "Anything you want. Please. I made a mistake. Have mercy. I have a family!" The voice then changes to that of the slain one-eyed bandit, dripping with cruelty. "Sorry, my friend. Too late now. You've nothing left to offer. Now we have both your money and your life. Just pray your family makes a wiser choice than you."

"Shut up!" the halfling screams from his chair. His teeth grind in rage as he stares hatefully at the creature. "You damned traitor! You're a liar!" He looks over at Willow. "Don't listen to him! It's all tricks!"

The creature continues without missing a beat, returning again to the halfling's voice. "Don't worry, Dendrar. We'll take good care of that wife of yours. She's finally in good hands now." The voice emits the same weaselly chuckle.

The drama then concludes with what can only be the hapless victim's final cries for mercy, followed by a startlingly lifelike rendition of a man's groaning death whimper as he is run through by an executioner's blade.
This message was last edited by the player at 18:33, Mon 27 Nov 2017.

"He helped us..." Steamknuckle breathes in a voice so low it's almost a whisper. "He cut that guy's throat. Remember? Why would he do that? He must have turned against them."

"I guess now we know what happened to the woodcarver."

"Again, what is your mission here?" Zhaquadan asks the halfling.

"What mission?" the bandit barks at Zhaquadan, almost frantic with agitation. "I just told you, we're here minding our own business! Nobody hired us, we're not on any mission! We just stopped in this piss pot of a town to take a little break between contracts, and figured we'd lend a hand protecting the place, since the mine gases seem to have addled everyone's brains and they don't even have a militia to keep orcs and bandits from burning the place to the ground!" He pauses for breath, his face red with frustration.
This message was last edited by the GM at 23:41, Fri 24 Nov 2017.

Frustrated Zhaquadan turns to the birdman and asks "And who are you in all this? What are you doing here?"

"He's a traitor, that's who he is!" the halfling screams. "And when this is over I'm going to hunt him down and carve him up like a roast pheasant!" He strains pitifully against the rope at his wrists.
This message was last edited by the GM at 23:49, Mon 26 Nov 2018.

Rudo casually steps over to the halfling and slaps him across the face. "Shut your mouth. I swear to Silverbeard if you draw any of your friends with that girly shriek of yours I'll split you right down the middle with this axe."

The crow-like creature waits patiently as the halfling lowers his head in defeat, staring at the floor in sullen silence. With all attention back on it, the creature replies in a voice sounding much like Glasstaff's.

"My fine gentlemen, remember that we are here to help the people of Phandalin." The voice chuckles, followed by a chorus of responding laughs, all issuing from the same creature's beak. "If anyone asks," Glasstaff's voice goes on, "we are a wandering mercenary company between contracts, and decided to lend a helping hand to a town in need. No need to mention any of our usual unpleasant business. If anyone refuses to pay then you know what to do...they'll get the picture pretty quick. Besides, it's downright uncivilized to have to spell everything out for your audience, provincial hayseeds or not."
This message was last edited by the player at 05:40, Mon 27 Nov 2017.

"Fascinating...it seems to have preserved every conversation it's ever heard...and can reproduce any of them with perfect fidelity at will. Most fascinating." Steamknuckle stares at the creature with curiosity.

"Remind me never to air any of my dirty laundry in front of this thing."

Willow stares sternly at the creature. "Why did you turn on them?" she asks in a flat voice.

The bird man gazes at Willow for a long moment. Then another series of disconnected voices and sounds issues from its beak.

"We'll put them to work until we can find a buyer."

The dull clank of something heavy and iron being dragged about.

"See boys? I told you it'd be worth it. Slaving's good coin if you know what you're doing."

"Hahahaha! What's this dirty little thing going to do? Caw and peck them to death?"

"Throw it in the cage with the others, I say." The party again recognizes the rough voice of the recently slain eyepatch-wearing bandit captain.

Then in Glasstaff's more cultured voice, "Friends, friends. Don't be too quick to condemn. This one here has special...skills. He'll make us a lot of money. I know it may be hard for you to tolerate one of his...kind, but you'll find a way. Better than tolerating poverty, I say."
This message was last edited by the player at 20:45, Mon 27 Nov 2017.

The halfling scowls and strains at his ropes. "Liar!" he shouts. "He's taking you all for fools! Half the things he just said weren't even about him!"

His mouth wheezes shut as Rudo jabs him sharply in the stomach with the butt of his axe handle.
This message was last edited by the GM at 05:52, Mon 27 Nov 2017.

Willow's head slowly turns toward the now coughing and sputtering bandit. Her eyes are dark.

"They weren't about him? How do you know that? Those words were about someone. And if you know they weren't about him, then you must know who they were about...and thus you freely admit to having a hand in slavery."
This message was last edited by the player at 20:43, Mon 27 Nov 2017.

The halfling's red face jerks up. "No! No, of course not!" He looks around frantically at the rest of the party. "We would never! I just meant, wherever he heard those things, it wasn't with us. Most of those things I never heard. Honest! I would never get involved with slavers! None of us would!"

"Part of me feels bad for just selling them off like cattle." The halfling's voice is unmistakable coming immediately after he himself has spoken, but the tone and attitude of the words coming now from the bird creature's mouth are completely different.

"Wait...no...that was just gas." Followed by the sound of a room full of drunkards in raucous laughter.

Steamknuckle smiles and shakes his head with mock sadness. "Not even Harbin Wester can save you now, my friend."

The halfling's rage melts into desperation before the party's eyes. He turns to the creature with a wounded expression. "Why? You were one of us. We gave you a cloak. Why would you betray us now?"

The strange bird man stares at the defeated halfling with glittering black eyes. No emotion can be read on its face, but its eyes burn with a wild intensity.

This time the litany of voices pours out of its beak in a staccato frenzy.

"Shut up, crow."

"Who cares? It's just a stupid bird. All it can do is repeat what it hears, like a parrot. It has no idea what's really going on."

"I'll rot in the ninth hell before I share my table with that fucking crow."

"Oh, shut that waggling beak of yours, crow. No one cares."

"Next thing you know we'll be giving a share to the damned Highharvestide turkey."

"What are you gonna do? Tell Glasstaff? Go ahead. Tell him. What exactly did I do to you, then?" Cruel laughter.

"Oh, shut that beak and go peck some worms or something."

"Go on. Fly up there and check it out for us. Oh...what's that? You got feathers but you can't even fly? Some fucking crow you are."

"Would you just shut up with your blasted racket? I swear, talking to you is like trying to debate a barking dog. Just...just get the hell away from me, will you?"

"Here you go. Your supper. Oh...what's wrong? You don't like roasted crow? Wait...oh no. I'm so sorry. Was that your mama?" More cruel laughter.

"Shut up, crow. No one asked you."

"Nah, the crow will sleep in the stable. He don't mind. I mean, just look at him. He's right at home with the other animals."

"You breathe one word of this and I'll slit your black bird throat."
This message was last edited by the player at 18:47, Mon 27 Nov 2017.

"That's enough.  I don't know what to believe but I know I've heard enough of that mockery.  As long as you behave kindly to us and the upstanding peoples of Phandalin and beyond I promise you will be treated with respect.  As wary as I am of any turncoat if what you say is true I welcome you to join us and possibly get some revenge on these redcloaks.  I would like to finish exploring this place but our prisoner roster is growing large.  Whay do the rest of you want to do?" Zhaquadan says first facing the bird man and then the rest of the party.

"Wait...we're inviting the traitorous bird thing to join us?" Rudo's eyes flash angrily toward the creature as his hands tighten around the shaft of his greataxe. "Oh, no. Sob story or no, if there's one thing I cannot stand for, it's betrayal."

"Don't be ridiculous," Steamknuckle chides. "You heard the tale it told. It was enslaved and abused by them."

"No it wasn't," the halfling bandit says in a flat tone, his motionless eyes still fixed on the floor beneath his feet.

Steamknuckle ignores the interruption and continues as if nothing had been said. "And it couldn't have been lies, since all it did was repeat what it's heard, word for word."

"He," the creature says, this time in the voice of a small child. "He's a boy, so call him 'he.'"

Steamknuckle turns to the creature, startled. "Oh...of, of course," he stammers. "My apologies."

"What is your name?" Willow interjects. Her expression is still hard and suspicious, but seems to have softened slightly.

The creature turns to Willow and recites a strange sound, like the slow unfurling of a long, dusty scroll. He then bows dramatically.

Steamknuckle looks confused. "I...I don't understand. Is that your name?" He turns to the halfling prisoner. "Is that his name?"

The halfling replies in the same flat, weary voice without looking up. "Yes. That's their way, I guess. They can make any sound they've heard, so they like to name themselves after random sounds they like. We just call him 'Parchment.'"

"That is, when you're not just calling him 'crow' or spitting in his face, you mean. You bastard." The bandit remains still and doesn't respond.

Willow turns to Parchment. "Well met," she says, and offers her hand. He shakes it and bows slightly once more.

"Parchment. What a lovely name." Steamknuckle glances at Parchment a bit nervously. "You...you don't mind if we just call you 'Parchment,' do you? Or would you prefer we try to make the sound like you did?"

"It's okay," Parchment replies, in the same child's voice.

"I don't like this," Rudo growls. "He's no prisoner. He was one of them, and then he turned on them. Like a coward."

"No, he was a prisoner. You heard him. He did what he had to do to survive."

Steamknuckle steps up to Rudo and looks the dwarf defiantly in the eye. "Imagine you were captured on the battlefield. By some cruel and ignominious enemy. Imagine they put you to work, tortured you. Forced you to do things you didn't want to do. You would take any opportunity you could to escape and get your revenge, wouldn't you? Even if it meant deception and subterfuge...for a time."

He turns back to Parchment. "Something tells me he never enjoyed working with them. He was just biding his time until he could make his move. Our invasion was the natural opportunity."

The gnome's gaze returns to the sullen dwarf. "You can't defeat your enemies if you're dead."
This message was last edited by the player at 19:39, Tue 28 Nov 2017.

Rudo looks down on Steamknuckle with restrained contempt. "If it was me, I would be dead. I never would have suffered being taken prisoner like some dog. There are some things more important than victory."

He steps around the table to an empty chair and sits down, coldly ignoring the room as he begins cleaning the ale stains from his axe blade.

"I agree with both of you but he could prove to be helpful and we will need all the help we can get to recover Gundren safely.  We watch him closely and punish swiftly if he betrays us as well.  For now we need to clear this manor and turn the prisoners over to Sildar. But which one first?" Zhaquadan says calmly.

"It wouldn't take long to drag them back to the town hall. I think that's the safest option. If we leave them here then they might be found and untied by their friends, and get away."

"Or sneak up behind us to put a knife in our backs," Rudo adds calmly, without looking up from his axe.

Willow sighs. "Gods, I wish we could do that. I mean, we got what we came for." She nods her head toward the room where Glasstaff's body still lies unconscious on the stone floor. "We should already be on our way to finding Gundren by now. But we can't. Now that we know they might be holding slaves here, we have to find them. We can't just leave them here."

She turns to Steamknuckle with a grim look on her face. "I'm afraid we don't have time to take these prisoners back right now. Even though you're right, it would surely be the safest thing for us to do. But look at these bodies. There's blood everywhere. If a patrol were to return here while we were gone then there'd be chaos. Those slaves would vanish forever and our chance to save them would be gone.

"No. We have to find them now, and kill every Redbrand we see along the way."

Rudo finally looks up. "Now there's the kitten I know!" He stands up from the table with a grin, hefting his now gleaming polished battleaxe.

"But what about the prisoners? We can't bring them with us!"

"We'll just have to tie them up so tight they can't even move their fingers, then stuff them into a dark corner and hope nobody finds them before we get back."

At this the halfling bandit looks up with a startled expression, but says nothing.

"Of course, we'll also need to gag Glasstaff, so he can't use magic to free himself and his friend here should he wake up."

Steamknuckle looks at Zhaquadan. "What do you think about this?"

"I think we should continue here with the prisoners.  Leash them, bind their hands tight, bind their legs so it will be difficult to run, and gag them.  Then proceed slowly with them in the middle.  If they try anything we kill them.  It may get messy but it's the only way to assure they do not escape while also being certain everything is cleared in the manor.  That's my opinion anyway."

"Well, that makes sense and I might agree," Willow replies, "but what about the wizard? He's out cold. Are you suggesting we wait around until he wakes up? Or heal him?"

"If we're going to do that, then I say cut out his tongue first to be sure he can't use any more magic on us."

"No!" Steamknuckle barks, perhaps a bit louder than he intended. "We'll still need to ask him a few questions."

Zhaquadan stares at the limp body of the wizard for a few moments and says "whatever method we were going to use to get him out of here should work the rest of the way through here as well.   Make sure his hands and feet are bound well and his gag is tight and carry him.   Perhaps we can fashion a stretcher of some sort to carry him and split up when that becomes too unwieldy, leaving someone to guard him for a short time. "

"Carry him? Ugh..." Rudo groans. He sets his axe on the table and strides back into the other room, brushing past Zhaquadan in irritation. He returns a moment later with Glasstaff's limp body slung over his shoulder. "Okay, let's go," he grunts as he walks back to the table to retrieve his axe. "Someone pick up all this loose coin."
This message was last edited by the player at 16:46, Wed 24 Jan 2018.

"Well, we're not quite ready to go just yet," Steamknuckle says, eyeing the unconscious bloody package dangling over Rudo's shoulder. "We still haven't finished searching Glasstaff's quarters."

"Gods be damned..." Rudo mutters under his breath as he flops the wizard's rope-bound body down onto the floor. "Go on then. I'll start here."

He retrieves the small treasure sack from his backpack and begins sweeping coins off the surface of the table. By far the majority of the coins are all congregated in one quadrant of the table. Rudo chuckles as the stacks tinkle down into the sack. "Looks like whoever was sitting here had all the luck tonight." He plucks a small gold and ruby earring from the table, examining it before he drops it in as well.

He then grins as he hefts a pair of dirty knucklebone dice from the table. "No wonder," he laughs, looking over at the halfling bandit. "Weighted dice. I bet these were yours, weren't they? You dirty little scoundrel."
This message was last edited by the player at 00:41, Tue 05 Dec 2017.

The halfling looks up, his face blank but his eyes slowly widening. His gaze shifts back over to Parchment. "You filthy cheat..." he mutters as his face slowly twists into a mask of rage. "It's no wonder." His small head shakes slowly from side to side. "You will die for this."

The halfling is silenced when a meaty fist comes hurtling out of space to collide with the side of his face.
This message was last edited by the GM at 00:16, Tue 05 Dec 2017.

"I think not," Rudo says in a casual tone as he rubs the knuckles of his right hand. "Your neck will stretch at the end of Hallwinter's rope long before you ever get a chance to kill again. Now shut your mouth before I do his job for him."

Rudo turns to Parchment as he drops the weighted dice into his belt pouch. "I'll just hold onto these. I choose to ignore what the halfling said, since I'm a fair dwarf and I don't trust a word he says. But I swear to you, by Clangeddin's beard, if I ever catch you cheating or stealing from me, then I'll name my axe after this halfling just before it cleaves your bird breast from sternum to stem."
This message was last edited by the player at 16:19, Tue 05 Dec 2017.

The halfling smiles as he rubs his bruised face. "At least I'll die with that satisfaction," he mutters.

"What is your name, by the way?" Rudo asks, turning to the bandit.

"Richard."

"Hmm. Dick..." Rudo turns the greataxe over in his hands, gazing at it thoughtfully. Then he nods with curt approval.

Turning back to Parchment, Rudo holds up the axe. "Every time you think about cheating, think of old Dick here. You wouldn't want your life to end with a Dick passing through you."

An involuntary giggle escapes from the halfling bandit's mouth.

While Rudo banters, Willow and Burgess search the rest of the room. Passing clockwise around the square chamber, the dog sniffs everything while Willow looks behind barrels and wall draperies. She shakes her head in disgust as she steps around the sticky pool of ale spilled during Rudo's tantrum in the southeast corner.

Eventually she comes to the narrow shelf against the west wall. Picking through the meager provisions, she seems to find nothing of interest until she suddenly steps back in surprise. Burgess bares his teeth and growls.

"It's that rat," Willow says as she draws one of her shortswords. "The wizard's rat. It's still hiding in this shelf here."
This message was last edited by the player at 00:50, Tue 13 Feb 2018.

"Oh, it's just a rat. Leave it."

"No, it's not just a rat. It came and warned these Redbrands about us when we were back in Glasstaff's room. I think it might be his familiar." Steamknuckle rubs his chin as he looks over at Peas.

"If we leave it, then when he wakes up he can still control it and see through its eyes. It could cause trouble for us. I think we have to destroy it. Then he can't get it back without casting another expensive spell."

"Kill it" Zhaquadan says as he moves to search the adjoining rooms and halls that have not already been searched.

Willow nods, then turns back to the shelf where the rat cowers behind a sack of flour. She gives Burgess a quick look before reaching out to push the sack aside, followed immediately by a flashing thrust of her shortsword blade.

Before the rat can move or react, the sword impales its tiny body. Willow pulls back and Burgess darts in to clean up the mess, but his jaws snap shut on empty air. All that remains of the rat's body is a minuscule puff of dissipating gray smoke.

"Looks like you were right," she says. "This was no normal rat."

Burgess whines in confusion and frustration.

OOC: Melee attack with shortsword.
09:16, Today: Willow rolled 24 using 1d20+5 with rolls of 19.  Shortsword attack.
This message was last edited by the player at 19:01, Tue 05 Dec 2017.

Steamknuckle nods as he and Zhaquadan turn to investigate the nearby corridor. They move along the short hallway and cautiously up the stairs, giving their darkvision a moment to adjust from the bright lamplight of the previous room. At the top they find a briefly winding passage leading out into the same open chamber where the party encountered the solitary one-eyed creature earlier. Nothing moves in the chill darkness of the cavern.

Heading back down the stairs, the companions find Willow, Rudo and Parchment working together to drag the corpses of the slain bandits into Glasstaff's bedroom. Willow explains that the disarray of the common room is less likely to cause alarm if the bodies are hidden from view of anyone who might return there. In a moment all three of the corpses are neatly stacked in a corner and stripped of their equipment. A small pile of shortswords, studded leather cuirasses, and stained crimson cloaks lies beside the bodies.

Having recovered from his earlier rage, Rudo retrieves the magic longsword he had tossed aside and gently slides it into the scabbard at his waist. He then returns to stand guard over the surviving prisoners as the others continue searching the remaining rooms. Steamknuckle eagerly pores over the contents of the wizard's laboratory, with Parchment following close behind, watching every move with curiosity. Zhaquadan heads back into Glasstaff's bedchamber to resume searching through the papers on the desk, while Willow and Burgess stand ready at the laboratory door, vigilant for anyone who might come down the stairs from the cavern above.

As he reads through the neatly stacked notes, Zhaquadan finds more of the same - numerous written orders to merchants throughout the area for various alchemical supplies and ingredients. However, near the bottom of one pile, he finds a curious letter written on finer parchment, tucked into a vellum envelope with a black wax seal in the image of a spider. The letter reads:

---

Lord Albrek,

My spies in Neverwinter tell me that strangers are due to arrive in Phandalin. They could be working for the dwarves. Capture them if you can, kill them if you must, but don't allow them to upset our plans. See that any dwarven maps in their possession are delivered to me with haste. I'm counting on you, Iarno. Don't disappoint me.

---

"Hmm, this is interesting," Steamknuckle calls out from the workshop room. Willow and Zhaquadan move a bit closer to listen.

"Almost all of these books and scrolls appear to be basic texts on alchemy. Seems Glasstaff here was interesting in brewing potions, though from what I gather he wasn't very experienced, and hadn't managed to actually make anything usable yet." He peers at the books lining the shelf in front of him. "Nothing really valuable here, all basic stuff, though of course I'd like to have these packed up and sent back to Neverwinter to look at more carefully later.

"No, what's interesting is this." He pulls a single small weathered book from the shelf in front of him. Its cover is plain tattered leather, sealed with a length of twine wrapped around a metal stud on the front. The stud hangs loosely from its partially torn hole in the front cover, the twine dangling freely to the side. He opens it.

"This is the journal of an adventurer named Urmon. A dwarf, it seems, as the journal is written in Dwarvish. Not dated, though the ink seems old enough to have been written some centuries ago." He thumbs through the first several pages. "Some background on Wave Echo Cave, history of the Phandelver's Pact, et cetera, et cetera..." Finally he settles on the last few handwritten pages of the journal. "Looks like old Urmon here did a bit more research than most...he apparently never found the mine, but he notes here that a magic mace named Lightbringer was commissioned by priests of Lathander - that's The Morninglord, the god of dawn, of course - from the mages who worked the Forge of Spells in Wave Echo Cave. Fascinating. Seems he was seeking that artifact in particular. Says here it was lost when the mine vanished from history, but by all accounts it must still be sealed away down there, safe and sound."

Steamknuckle closes the book and slides it into his pack. "I'll just hold on to this in case it's of any use to us down the road." He then turns to the table with the bubbling alchemical apparatus just now starting to wind down. "This, of course, is all very valuable stuff. Thank Gond it wasn't damaged in the fight. We'll have to leave it here, I suppose, but at some point we'll need to come back to pack it up and send it back to the Guild in Neverwinter as well."

He points to three small vials on the table, each filled with a different material. "These here are the prize of Glasstaff's collection, for certain," he beams. Pointing to each in turn, he recites, "Mercury, dragon bile, and powdered nightshade. Very rare, very expensive." He collects the bottles and stows them in his pack as well.

"And that's about it in this room."
This message was last edited by the player at 04:28, Tue 12 June 2018.

"What was he trying to make? Can you tell?"

"Yes, of course. I almost forgot. It's quite clear from these ingredients, and the pages he's bookmarked in these tomes, that he was trying to brew potions of invisibility. Fascinating indeed. Quite challenging a recipe for a novice to start with, and no wonder he hasn't succeeded yet."

"Invisibility. Hmm..." Willow muses. "Maybe he's just trying to give his goons a bit of an edge in their criminal activities. Who knows."

 Zhaquadan ponders this for a moment and says almost in a whisper "Assume he was successful in some way, then one of those goons may be in here right now."

Willow pauses. Breathing steadily, she scans the room in a slow circle. Burgess follows her gaze, sniffing the air periodically as they both sweep the room with their eyes.

"No," she finally says in a soft tone. "I think not. We've swept these rooms more than once now. Somehow I doubt any of these drunken fools could dance around us without making any noise. Even if they were invisible."

She turns to Zhaquadan. "Besides, you smelled them. Walking rum bottles, every one; put a match to them and they'd go up like a candle. Burgess would have sniffed them out in seconds. We're clear."

"Trust me," Steamknuckle says, nodding toward the alchemy equipment. "This Glasstaff's no master. Look at the angle of this retort neck. He's losing most of his vapors. Any fool apprentice could see that. No way he's succeeded in brewing anything useful yet."

Parchment peers closely at the glassware as Steamknuckle points to it. He seems almost enraptured by its workings. "Any fool apprentice could see that," he echoes quietly in Steamknuckle's voice.

"Let's continue our search of this place and get these prisoners to Phandalin."

"So we're done here?" Willow looks between Zhaquadan and Steamknuckle. "You're both satisfied we haven't missed anything?"

Steamknuckle nods. "We'll come back for the stuff we can't carry now, but there's nothing terribly urgent here."

Zhaquadan stares unblinking at the door and mumbles in a slow monotone drawl "Let's continue our search of this place and get these prisoners back to Phandalin".

Willow shakes her head slightly, a hint of an annoyed smirk shadowing her face for a moment. "Okay then," she says. "Let's get out of here. But which way? We've got that door to the south," and she nods her head back toward the room where Rudo waits with the prisoners, "but there's also that secret door we left behind up there," pointing to the open door of Glasstaff's bedchamber. "And we never fully checked the other side of the crevasse in the big cavern either."

"Yes, the other secret door," Steamknuckle mutters, before continuing more excitedly. "The one-eyed monster said something about 'walking bones' when he pointed in that direction. That must lead to the old crypts! Why didn't I think of that before? Remember, Sildar's prisoner back in the town jail said they were keeping captives in a holding area near the crypts. And Glasstaff had somehow managed to reanimate the bones of the old Tresendar ancestors to help guard them."

Steamknuckle turns to Zhaquadan. "That's where we have to go. But the skeletons, what do we do about them?"
This message was last edited by the player at 19:49, Wed 14 Feb 2018.

"Don't forget he said something about bugbears down here, too. They could be anywhere. We need to keep an eye out for them, too."
This message was last edited by the player at 19:49, Wed 14 Feb 2018.

"Let's go to the old crypts"

Willow nods and sets off to gather Rudo and the prisoners from the nearby room. In a moment Rudo appears in the doorway, scowling under the weight of Glasstaff's limp body dangling over his shoulder. He is followed shortly by Richard the bandit, still tightly bound by rope at his wrists, stumbling along at the prodding point of Willow's shortsword. The halfling refuses to make eye contact with Parchment as he passes by, but the dark mutterings under his breath match the venom of his downcast expression.

The party closes the outer door of the wizard's laboratory behind them, regrouping in Glasstaff's bedchamber. The smell of blood and alcohol permeates the small room from the pile of fresh corpses stacked neatly in one corner.

Steamknuckle turns for one last farewell glance at the books and clutter of the laboratory before closing the door to join the rest of the party in the bedchamber. He walks over to the glass staff leaning against the desk and grasps it.

"I'm not sure yet exactly what this staff does, but hopefully no one minds if I hold on to it for now. I assume none of you have much use for a wizard's staff."

When no one objects to Steamknuckle's request, the party continues on, passing through the secret door and up the stairs into the darkened storeroom. The room appears as still and silent as the party last left it. They quickly cross over to the room's other secret door and pass through it, stepping once more into the brightly lit corridor beyond.

As before, the party is met by two closed wooden doors: one directly facing them and another at the south end of the 15-foot long corridor.

Zhaquadan heads to the far end of the corridor and tries to open the door.

Zhaquadan marches down the lamplit corridor toward the door at its southern end. The rest of the party follows his lead, readying their weapons behind him. Richard, in a fit of sudden nervousness, reaches up to tug at the hood of his cloak, struggling to lift it with his hands tied together. Willow prods him more vigorously with the point of her sword and he abandons the effort with a defensive grunt.

Zhaquadan reaches the door. He grabs the weathered iron handle and turns it. The door slides open with a whisper.

The party crowds around him to get a better look. Spreading out before them is a long stone room about twenty feet wide and thirty feet deep. Dim light flickers from oil lamps set in sconces around the walls, illuminating what appears to be three dusty stone sarcophagi. Propped up against each sarcophagus is a human skeleton clad in bits of rusty mail. False columns along the walls are carved in the image of spreading oak trees, and a pair of double doors in the southeast corner are sheathed in tarnished copper plate.

Before the party even has a chance to fully absorb the scene, each of the skeleton heads swivels toward the open door. In an instant they are clambering to their feet with weapons in hand.

Zhaquadan enters the room ready for battle.

Zhaquadan steps into the room, studying the movements of the skeletons and limbering his hammer arm in preparation for combat. Then he stops for a moment to glance back over his shoulder to verify his comrades' readiness. He is momentarily stunned as he watches the entire party swarm around him in an open charge, leaving his cautious advance behind in the dust.

OOC: Combat ensues. Initiative order:

Initiative Roll	Character
15	Steamknuckle
14	Peas
13	Rudo
12	Parchment
12	Richard
9	Burgess
8	Willow
6	Skeletons
4	Zhaquadan

Peas clings to Steamknuckle's shoulder as the gnome squeezes through the throng, squirting through the doorway and off to the side a bit. He immediately thrusts his hand forward, barking a word of power as a familiar pale blue energy beam extends from his open palm toward the skeleton on the left.

The beam strikes the skeleton across its waist. The creature continues forward, though a bit more slowly as its joints struggle to grind through the layer of frost it now wears as a belt across its exposed pelvis.

OOC: Ranged attack with Ray of Frost cantrip.
15:42, Today: Steamknuckle rolled 15 using 1d20+5 with rolls of 10.  Ray of Frost cantrip attack.
15:43, Today: Steamknuckle rolled 4 using 1d8 with rolls of 4.  Ray of Frost cantrip damage (cold).

As he finishes his spell, Steamknuckle mutters something to Peas and the owl springs off his shoulder, darting through the air toward the nearest skeleton on the right. Her tiny claws scrape across the exposed bone of its forehead, distracting it for a moment as she swoops away in a single smooth flying motion.

OOC: Flying to the skeleton, performing the Help action, then flying away.
The Help action (PHB p.192) is targeted at assisting Rudo's next attack.

Rudo charges around Zhaquadan, bellowing as he raises his greataxe for a vicious swing. Before the nearest skeleton has even managed to fully stand, the axe comes crashing down, lopping off the creature's left arm and sending a couple of its ribs scattering to the floor for good measure.

The skeleton staggers heavily, wobbling for a moment before it manages to regain its footing in a series of jerky, halting movements. It raises the shortsword held by its one remaining hand and continues its steady advance.

OOC: Melee attack with greataxe.
15:56, Today: Rudo rolled 18 using 1d20+5 with rolls of 13.  Greataxe attack.
16:05, Today: Rudo rolled 17 using 1d20+5 with rolls of 12.  Greataxe attack, with advantage due to Peas' distraction.
15:56, Today: Rudo rolled 12 using 1d12+3 with rolls of 9.  Greataxe damage (slashing).
This message was last edited by the player at 23:05, Sat 16 June 2018.

Parchment slips through the door and slides gracefully around both dwarves, flanking the nearest skeleton and flashing his cutlass up into its ribs as it recovers from the force of Rudo's axe swing. In an instant the skeleton's entire torso is sundered into dusty fragments, collapsing into a motionless heap at Rudo's feet.

Rudo glances over to offer a nod of thanks, but Parchment is already gone, slinking back toward the doorway to huddle in the corner and wipe the bone chips from his blade.

OOC: Melee attack with cutlass.
16:10, Today: Parchment rolled 19 using 1d20+5 with rolls of 14.  Cutlass attack.
16:11, Today: Parchment rolled 4 using 1d6+3 with rolls of 1.  Cutlass damage (slashing).
16:13, Today: Parchment rolled 3 using 1d6 with rolls of 3.  Sneak attack damage (slashing).

Seeing combat erupt through the doorway, Richard begins to slowly back away down the corridor. He only manages a couple of steps, however, before Willow grabs him by the scruff of his cloak and violently shoves him forward, sending him sprawling through the doorway to land on his knees just inside the room.
This message was last edited by the GM at 05:45, Sun 17 June 2018.

Burgess hesitates a moment, looking back to Willow for guidance. With a single nod from her he leaps forward, charging the skeleton on the left just after Steamknuckle lands his frost ray on it. His fangs clamp down on the brittle bones of the creature's arm, crushing them in a fine spray of dust as he rips his jaws away.

The skeleton, already hampered by the ice freezing its hip joints in place, topples backward from the force of the mastiff's charge. It clatters to the floor, flopping around in a weak struggle to regain its feet.

OOC: Melee bite attack by Burgess.
16:31, Today: Wizzrobe, for the NPC Burgess, rolled 13 using 1d20+3 with rolls of 10.  Bite attack.
16:33, Today: Wizzrobe, for the NPC Burgess, rolled 4 using 1d6+1 with rolls of 3.  Bite damage (piercing).
16:34, Today: Wizzrobe, for the NPC Skeleton, rolled 9 using 1d20 with rolls of 9.  Strength save to resist the mastiff's knock prone feature on successful bite attacks.

Willow enters the room last, kicking past Richard in irritation as she advances with both shortswords drawn. She sizes up the situation quickly, heading first to the left to thrust her main-hand blade down into the prone skeleton's face. The point of the sword slides neatly into the skeleton's nasal cavity, splitting its brittle skull in two as she yanks the blade back. It stops moving.

Then, continuing in the same fluid motion, she turns toward the final skeleton in the room. Her off-hand blade flashes forward, but this time her target is ready. Sparks fly as the blades clash in a harmless parry.

OOC: Melee attack with main-hand shortsword.
16:42, Today: Willow rolled 10 using 1d20+5 with rolls of 5.  Shortsword attack.
16:43, Today: Willow rolled 16 using 1d20+5 with rolls of 11.  Shortsword attack, with advantage due to the target being prone.
16:44, Today: Willow rolled 6 using 1d6 with rolls of 6.  Shortsword damage (piercing).

Melee attack with off-hand shortsword.
16:46, Today: Willow rolled 6 using 1d20+5 with rolls of 1.  Shortsword attack.

The skeleton counterattacks with a thrust into the opening left by Willow's missed strike. She tries to bend away, but too late. The point of the skeleton's sword rakes across her exposed abdomen, leaving a thin trail of blood to mark its path.

OOC: Melee attack with shortsword.
17:12, Today: Wizzrobe, for the NPC Skeleton, rolled 15 using 1d20+4 with rolls of 11.  Shortsword attack.
17:14, Today: Wizzrobe, for the NPC Skeleton, rolled 3 using 1d6+2 with rolls of 1.  Shortsword damage (piercing).

Zhaquadan joins Willow and attacks the skeleton she is engaged with.

OOC: Melee attack with warhammer (1h)
08:08, Today: Zhaquadan Mudsmither rolled 22 using 1d20+4 with rolls of 18. Warhammer (1h) attack.
08:09, Today: Zhaquadan Mudsmither rolled 5 using 1d8+2 with rolls of 3.  Warhammer (1h) damage (bludgeoning).

Zhaquadan steps past Willow to bring his hammer around in a hurtling backhand arc. The skeleton tries in vain to raise its weapon for another parry, but its sword arm is low and off balance from its recent strike. The hammer sails through empty air to clout the skeleton's skull with a dry chuffing sound.

The skull cleanly detaches from the creature's body, along with the steel skullcap and rusty chainmail coif it had been wearing. The entire grim apparatus flies through the air to clang against the nearby wall and tumble down into the dust behind the sarcophagus.

The now-headless skeleton sways a bit, but remains standing, still clutching its shortsword.

Steamknuckle raises his hand and speaks the arcane word again to blast the headless skeleton with a ray of magical frost. The ray strikes the skeleton dead center, freezing the links of its rusty chainmail coat into a steaming sheet of hoarfrost. The skeleton leans, staggers, and then clatters down into a motionless heap at Willow and Zhaquadan's feet.

OOC: Ranged attack with Ray of Frost cantrip.
13:28, Today: Steamknuckle rolled 24 using 1d20+5 with rolls of 19.  Ray of Frost cantrip attack.
13:29, Today: Steamknuckle rolled 6 using 1d8 with rolls of 6.  Ray of Frost cantrip damage (cold).

Willow quickly examines the room to confirm that all the skeletons are dead. When her gaze reaches the open door through which the party entered, her face snaps back toward Rudo.

"Where is Glasstaff?" she asks.

"Don't worry, Kitten," Rudo chuckles, strolling back toward the doorway as he casually wipes the blade of his axe. "He's right here. I just set him down for a minute when things started getting hairy. Tucked him in nice and neat for a little beauty nap."

The party steps over to glance into the corridor, and sure enough, there Glasstaff lays propped up slightly against the wall, unconscious and breathing softly. The red stain of his chest wound appears to have grown slightly, but for the moment seems to remain in check.

"There's another door here," Steamknuckle says, pointing to the northeast corner of the room. The party looks over at another closed wooden door, similar to the one through which they entered.

The gnome looks over at Richard. "What's through both of these doors?" he asks.

Richard is still kneeling on the floor where Willow shoved him, staring down at the floor and breathing hard. A sharp kick from Rudo brings him to attention.

"What...what's that?" he asks. He looks up at Rudo, then over to Steamknuckle staring at him, and the question finally registers. "Oh, yes. That...that is..." he hesitates. Rudo leans in for another kick and he continues quickly, "that's where...where we keep the prisoners." He sighs in resignation as his eyes settle back down to the floor.

"And the other door?" Steamknuckle asks impatiently. "You know, those big metal double doors in the corner over there? Where do they go?"

Richard's eyes remain on the floor as answers softly, "Oh, those just lead to the main cellar."

Parchment steps forward, pointing the tip of his cutlass toward the nearby closed door. "Okay then," he intones in a cruel voice sounding like that of the dead eyepatch-wearing bandit captain. "Now you got jail duty. Have fun wiping those little shits' arses all night, princess." Then in another voice, whining, "Come on. It's not my turn. I just had jail duty two days ago." The first voice returns, chuckling. "Maybe now you'll remember to treat your betters with respect. Now get out of my sight." The sound of a heavy wooden door closing and latching.

Parchment jabs his sword in the direction of the closed door once more, then moves the tip of the blade toward his ear as he recites a much quieter version of the clang of the skeleton's rusty helmet against the tomb wall a few minutes earlier. He follows this with a muted rendition of Rudo's battle cry along with the general din and crunch of battle against the skeletons, all the while wagging the tip of his sword beside his ear. He concludes by pointing the sword at the closed door one more time.

Zhaquadan attempts to open one of the sarcophagi.

Zhaquadan reaches down to grasp the stone lid of the nearest sarcophagus. The lid is carved to depict the likeness of a human male of seemingly noble bearing - presumably the man once entombed within the sarcophagus, but more recently released to end up as the pile of bones now laying in a heap at its base. He looks around at the other sarcophagi and sees similar carved designs adorning their lids, one male and one female.

The lid slides open without much difficulty. At first the interior appears empty except for a thin layer of dust and moldering scraps of cloth, until a glint of metal catches Zhaquadan's eye. He brushes aside the debris to find a fine platinum signet ring, set with the embossed design of an eagle with outstretched wings.

"I'm not sure if we should be doing this but let's see what is in these before we move on" Zhaquadan says as he moves on to the next sarcophagus.

"Don't be crazy," Rudo grunts. "Of course we're going to check them all." He moves over to the sarcophagus against the opposite wall as Zhaquadan moves down to the second one on his side. Both lids slide open at the same time, revealing equally barren interiors - aside from a matching platinum signet ring buried loosely within each.

"Here we go. Come to papa," Rudo mutters. He and Zhaquadan carry their collection of rings back for the rest of the group to examine. Each one bears a similar but slightly different design of a bird of prey with wings outstretched.

After the party is satisfied with their inspection, Rudo gathers the rings and deposits them in his treasure sack. No one seems to have any objection to the complicit act of grave robbery that just took place.

Zhaquadan attempts to open the single door.

"Wait a minute," Willow says before Zhaquadan reaches the door. "Since when did you get so impulsive? That's two doors now you've just blindly tried to open without even thinking about what might be on the other side."

She settles into the path between the dwarf and the closed door. "Were you even listening to everything Parchment just said? You know, about guards on duty and all the noise we just made that they surely heard, or were you too preoccupied thinking about all the treasures we might be able to steal from this tomb to actually hear any of that?"

"OK, what would you like to do?" Zhaquadan asks.

"Well," Willow responds wearily, "let's assume there are bad guys right on the other side of that door, and they've heard all the ruckus we just made. If you want to just walk right into that, then be my guest.

"But we can't just avoid going in there. Assuming you want to save the prisoners and not get brained by a sneak attack in the process, what do you think we should do to protect ourselves?"

Zhaquadan attempts to open the single door and stand behind the wall to hide from whatever might be on the other side.

The party gets into position against the east wall as Zhaquadan prepares to open the door. As soon as everyone is ready he reaches out to turn the handle, then quickly steps back to hide himself from view.

Nothing happens. The party remains flattened against the wall, listening. No sound is heard.

Then, just as Zhaquadan is about to step out into the doorway, he hears something. A faint but unmistakable sound of shallow breathing from through the door. He looks back at Willow standing just behind him, shortswords held close to her chest. As her eyes meet Zhaquadan's she nods very slightly toward the open threshold, raising two fingers from the grip of her main hand sword.
This message was last edited by the GM at 23:36, Thu 28 June 2018.

Zhaquadan waits ready for combat.

A minute passes. The party remains still and tense against the wall, breathing as quietly as possible. All is silent until a foot scrapes against the stone floor just beyond the door.

"Where are they?" The whisper is faint but clear in the stillness.

"They were just out there. You heard 'em."

"Well I don't hear nothin' now. Maybe they left."

"So they just opened the door and walked away wit'out even lookin' in?" The volume of the conversation seems to steadily rise with each whisper.

"We gotta check. We can't just stand 'ere all night!"

"Fine. You check. Just duck your head out there real quick like, then back in."

A heavy sigh punctuates the still air. A few moments pass and the party grips their weapons in anticipation. Then, suddenly, a head pops through the doorway. A rough-looking human face covered in beard stubble appears directly in front of Zhaquadan. The man's eyes widen as he takes in the line of adventurers pressed against the wall before him.

Zhaquadan takes a swing at the first person through the door.
12:22, Today: Zhaquadan Mudsmither rolled 24 using 1d20+4 with rolls of 20.  Melee Attack.
12:23, Today: Zhaquadan Mudsmither rolled 4 using 1d8+2 with rolls of 2.  1H Warhammer Damage (bludgeoning).
11:10, Today: Wizzrobe, on behalf of Zhaquadan Mudsmither, rolled 2 using 1d8 with rolls of 2.  Extra die of bludgeoning damage due to critical hit.
This message was last edited by the GM at 18:11, Wed 29 Aug 2018.

The man in the doorway tries to duck back inside the room, but Zhaquadan's hammer is already flashing outward. The ragged man is just barely able to shrink away before the hammer catches him cleanly across the chin with a dry smack. He utters a wheezing grunt and disappears from view.

OOC: Combat ensues! Initiative order:

Initiative Roll	Character
20	Redbrands
17	Burgess
16	Steamknuckle
14	Rudo
14	Peas
13	Parchment
12	Willow
5	Zhaquadan

This message was last edited by the GM at 18:28, Wed 29 Aug 2018.

The party begins to press forward to rush the doorway, but in the next instant the opening is filled with a second ruffian. This one is more solidly built than the first, with thick arms and a short black beard framing a square face. He thrusts his shortsword low toward Zhaquadan's belly.

The dwarf brings his shield up quickly, easily turning the thrust aside. The bandit circles out from the doorway. He thrusts again, but this time the move is a feint. Zhaquadan takes the bait and overadjusts to block the high strike, leaving an opening for the bandit's blade to streak downward. The blade bites into the dwarf's chainmail and sinks into the bone of his pelvis. Zhaquadan growls and staggers backward a bit. Fresh blood begins to seep down his pants.

The first bandit reappears in the doorway. His deeply bruised jaw appears somewhat off-kilter, peppered with bloody scores from the head of Zhaquadan's hammer. He glares at the dwarf and dives in with his own shortsword.

Caught off guard by the terrible wound he just took, Zhaquadan reacts slowly and is unable to bring up his shield in time. The bandit drives into him, stabbing in a wild frenzy. The darkness overtakes Zhaquadan as his life begins to pour out through the myriad gashes in his chainmail hauberk.

OOC: Melee attack with shortsword on Zhaquadan.
11:45, Today: Wizzrobe, for the NPC Redbrand Ruffian, rolled 10 using 1d20+4 with rolls of 6.  Shortsword attack.
11:45, Today: Wizzrobe, for the NPC Redbrand Ruffian, rolled 22 using 1d20+4 with rolls of 18.  Shortsword attack.
11:47, Today: Wizzrobe, for the NPC Redbrand Ruffian, rolled 8 using 1d6+2 with rolls of 6.  Shortsword damage (piercing).

OOC: Melee attack with shortsword on Zhaquadan.
12:09, Today: Wizzrobe, for the NPC Redbrand Ruffian, rolled 24 using 1d20+4 with rolls of 20.  Shortsword attack.
12:10, Today: Wizzrobe, for the NPC Redbrand Ruffian, rolled 6 using 2d6+2 with rolls of 1,3.  Shortsword damage (piercing), rolled twice due to critical hit.
12:11, Today: Wizzrobe, for the NPC Redbrand Ruffian, rolled 23 using 1d20+4 with rolls of 19.  Shortsword attack.
12:11, Today: Wizzrobe, for the NPC Redbrand Ruffian, rolled 4 using 1d6+2 with rolls of 2.  Shortsword damage (piercing).

Burgess comes hurtling through the pack to slam into the ruffian assaulting Zhaquadan. The bandit, focused on stabbing the fallen dwarf in a blind rage, is caught off guard by the sudden rush. Fangs and claws rake across his chest and neck, flinging him backward into the nearby wall. The bandit staggers but manages to keep his feet as he wrestles with the ferocious mastiff.

OOC: Melee bite attack by Burgess.
12:25, Today: Wizzrobe, for the NPC Burgess, rolled 15 using 1d20+3 with rolls of 12.  Bite attack.
12:26, Today: Wizzrobe, for the NPC Burgess, rolled 4 using 1d6+1 with rolls of 3.  Bite damage (piercing).
12:26, Today: Wizzrobe, for the NPC Redbrand Ruffian, rolled 15 using 1d20 with rolls of 15.  Strength save to resist the mastiff's knock prone feature on successful bite attacks.

"No!" Steamknuckle cries as he struggles forward through the throng. He ducks and dives around bodies and under legs until he reaches Zhaquadan's unconscious body. Then he fumbles with the drawstrings of his belt pouch until he manages to grasp one of the thick brown potions taken from the Cragmaw goblin hideout.

Kneeling over Zhaquadan's face, he pulls his friend's lips apart, yanks the cork stopper off the vial, and pours the viscous contents into the dwarf's mouth. Only when the vial is drained does he stop to look around and ascertain the surrounding danger. Both ruffians are currently engaged in melee with the rest of the party and don't seem to notice.

A weak cough brings Steamknuckle's attention back to Zhaquadan. The dwarf blinks and looks around. Realization dawns and he quickly grasps the gnome's shoulder to struggle to his feet, hammer in hand.

OOC: Administering a standard potion of healing (PHB p.153) to Zhaquadan.
12:45, Today: Steamknuckle rolled 8 using 2d4+2 with rolls of 2,4.  Healing from potion.

As Steamknuckle attends to Zhaquadan, Rudo smiles and steps over his comrade's fallen body to swing his greataxe down onto the burlier ruffian's head. The bandit sidesteps to avoid the worst of the blow, but the enormous bearded axe blade catches the meat of the man's shoulder and cleaves off a thick slab of leather and muscle. The bandit screams in pain as blood sprays out across the floor.

OOC: Melee attack with greataxe.
12:56, Today: Rudo rolled 14 using 1d20+5 with rolls of 9.  Greataxe attack.
12:57, Today: Rudo rolled 8 using 1d12+3 with rolls of 5.  Greataxe damage (slashing).

As Steamknuckle pushes his way through the crowd, Peas detaches from his shoulder and flutters up over everyone's heads, trying to keep an eye on him. When she sees him reach Zhaquadan she swoops down and claws furiously at the nearby bandit in a defensive maneuver, before flapping away to circle the room in preparation for another distracting attack.

OOC: Flying to the Redbrand currently engaged with Burgess, performing the Help action, then flying away.
The Help action (PHB p.192) is targeted at assisting Parchment's next attack.

Following closely behind Rudo's advance, Parchment strikes out to the right as Rudo presses his attack on the bandit to the left. The kenku's curved blade glitters in the lamplight as he slips through the right-hand bandit's defenses and cuts viciously into the ruffian's exposed flesh, taking advantage of the distraction of both animals' snarling onslaughts.

The blade slips into the open gap of the bandit's leather armor just beneath the armpit. It sinks deep as the man collapses with a scream, trailing off into a gurgling gasp. Uncontested, Burgess tears into the bandit's throat and the gurgle cuts off with a harsh snap.

In the next moment Parchment is gone again, twisting back through the group to crouch safely behind the nearby sarcophagus.

OOC: Melee attack with cutlass.
13:13, Today: Parchment rolled 25 using 2d20+5, dropping the lowest dice only with rolls of 20,4.  Cutlass attack, with advantage due to Peas' distraction.
13:15, Today: Parchment rolled 12 using 2d6+3 with rolls of 4,5.  Cutlass damage (slashing), rolled twice due to critical hit.
13:16, Today: Parchment rolled 9 using 2d6 with rolls of 4,5.  Sneak attack damage (slashing), rolled twice due to critical hit.

Using Rogue "Cunning Action" (PHB p.96) to disengage as a bonus action.

Seeing the first bandit handled expertly by Burgess and Parchment, Willow angles left to attack the larger one with Rudo. She deftly crouches and circles behind her dwarf ally to flank the ruffian from the far side.

Both shortswords strike out in quick succession. The bandit, seemingly accustomed to fighting multiple enemies at a time, expertly parries the first strike. The second, however, slips past his weapon to drive into the meat of his upper thigh. The large man staggers backward with a yelp and seems to swirl in a brief bout of dizziness. His muscles slacken noticeably as the blood pouring from two open wounds begins to take its toll.

Still, he manages to remain standing, and the wave of vertigo passes from his face. He grimaces defiantly as he grips the handle of his sword with renewed vigor.

OOC: Melee attack with main-hand shortsword.
13:30, Today: Willow rolled 11 using 1d20+5 with rolls of 6.  Shortsword attack.

Melee attack with off-hand shortsword.
13:31, Today: Willow rolled 20 using 1d20+5 with rolls of 15.  Shortsword attack.
13:33, Today: Willow rolled 6 using 1d6 with rolls of 6.  Shortsword damage (piercing).

A loud rattle rings out from the far side of the room. The party turns to look in unison as Richard the halfling fumbles with the large copper-plated double doors in the southeast corner, his tightly bound wrists struggling to grasp and turn the ancient handle. He looks up anxiously at the party staring at him just as he manages to get the door open, before squirting through the narrow opening and disappearing.

Zhaquadan chases after Richard in an attempt to subdue and return him to the melee.

Still staggering a bit, Zhaquadan turns and rushes after the escaped halfling prisoner. The hasty maneuver leaves an opening for the remaining armed bandit, who instinctively thrusts his shortsword. The blade glances harmlessly against the back of the dwarf's helmet. The bandit quickly pulls back to avoid overextending himself as Zhaquadan disappears into the crowd.

He quickly reaches the double doors and flings them open. The tarnished copper plate of the doors' outer face, now green with age, reveals a relief carving of a mournful angel, facing out into a somber stone corridor stretching about forty feet into the darkness. Thick dust covers the flagstone floor, lit by dim oil lamps hanging from faux columns every ten feet. The columns appear to be carved in the same spreading oak motif as those inside the crypt.

As Zhaquadan barges through the doorway, Richard is about halfway down the corridor, stepping carefully away in the opposite direction. He does not turn to look back at his pursuer.

OOC: Melee attack with shortsword on Zhaquadan (opportunity attack provoked by Zhaquadan leaving melee range without disengaging, PHB p.195)
16:23, Today: Wizzrobe, for the NPC Redbrand Ruffian, rolled 9 using 1d20+4 with rolls of 5.  Shortsword attack.