Update to March Order
Single file  WAS                              NOW
Amalrik the Barbarian                         Creston the Eager and the Infravision-istic
Regdoc and Hound at his side                  Amalrik and Eron riding his shoulder
Eron Windblade the pixie buzzing around       Yagi the Ghost Talker and THUD! at her side
Brother Brodd the Ill-Equipped                Brodd, the Goblin Watcher
Sasar the Wizard                              Sasar
Creston the Elf                               Regdoc and Hound
Iffy the Thief                                Manaku the Rear Guard, The Stealthy, the After-Scout

Quite possibly also there (but also quite possibly not)
Einhard, Erlindale.


Double File
Amalrik and Creston
Yagi and THUD!
Brodd and Sasar
Regdoc and Hound
Manaku and Eron

Manaku is visibility irritated by this way to interpret life as white or black

"Just put yourself in his/hers(not sure) situation, born and raised in a goblin clan, what are the chances he/she could be like you or me? I'm just going to give him/her a possibility to change his/her view of life"

Then he blink his eye and grin towarth the goblin

"It's not like I'm going to be a fool, I don't trust you, yet, you have to convince me first"

In reply to Manaku (msg # 2):

Yagi looks up at Manaku.

"Me wearin' dis here DRESS! You no tell de he-goblin from de she-goblin, she-elf?"

With a look of confusion

"I'm sorry girlie, I just don't know your uses, and for clarification I'm a boy, my name is Manaku. Do you are hungry? I have some rabbit meat from my last hunting..."

And Manaku show some meat already cooked and dried

"What you told us before... about the keeper of the winery and family, was the truth? Can you tell us more? Do you know where are we?"
This message was last edited by the player at 22:47, Mon 12 Nov 2018.

Eron pauses what he is doing and looks at Manaku strange.  "By your words, you're drunker than I am, and that's saying a lot.  Now, where did you find the good stuff?  Tell me!"  His last words has a bit of irate earnestness to them.

"Just put yourself in his/hers(not sure) situation, born and raised in a goblin clan, what are the chances he/she could be like you or me? I'm just going to give him/her a possibility to change his/her view of life"

The elf was speaking truly but things were not always this simple.  Prejudice went beyond mere xenophobia - sometimes there was a real hatred at work that could not be overcome.

"And perhaps those are those here who have lost friends and family to goblins?  Who hold a hatred for them we can not understand unless we've suffered the same?  We if we can not behave too rigid - then we also can not be too loose.  If the goblin wants to join us down here, for a short time being, we can accept it as a compromise."

Leaving the 'wine saviours' be, Brodd is eager to explore.  He can't imagine this underground complex was going to be very big, after all, such excavations were very expensive and difficult.
This message was last edited by the player at 01:25, Tue 13 Nov 2018.

"Alright here.  Lets get don this hall and put and end to these problems." Turning to the goblin; "Is their a Minotaur down their...you know a cow on two legs."

Manaku looks at the pixie flying on his left, carryng wine

"I don't know your name little pixie, or what you do, but i think your actions speaks for you... Sober a little, don't be a fool, we aren't still out of danger"



"Never said we need to be loose on judgment. All I'm saying is that she can be different, if she want. Sure goblins are capable of atrocities, and some unjustified. But I do, believe, in second chances"



"Oh please, a minotaur? Here? Under a winery? Nah!"

Sasar put his half-emptied wine bottle on the floor and rummages through the bulging packs on the mule.

“Now where is it? We need some light...I’m sure I packed it when we left...Ah, there it is!”

He lifts a lantern and an oil flask from the packs and proceeds to fill and ignite the lantern.

“Some of us need a light source down here. Not all have eyes of the elven kind – or goblin kind for that matter.”

He carefully lifts the lantern and with precise practiced moves adjusts the flame for optimal illumination.

“Alright, that should do it! Now we can get moving. You two in the front rank – I advice uttermost caution. If the goblins live here, there could be traps all over and they are likely well hidden too. I have a 10 foot pole available if you notice anything suspicious. There should be no need to risk a limb when we can poke suspicious things from afar.”

Eron averts his eyes from the brightness of the lantern to preserve the acuity of his pixie vision.  "Indeed, goblins do love their traps, and their love is second only to kobolds and pixies, of course!"  He smiles proudly, as if in remembrance of some foul trick played on larger folks.  After a moment's reverie, he suggests, "If there are goblin traps, perhaps the goblin should lead the way to help us avoid them."

[New Map in Maps Thread]

If it's traps were worried about, where's that trap detector the Baron lent us?

"Ah, yes. Miss Iffy... Perhaps she saw an opportunity and fled? Would she do that?"

Yagi looks down at the pixie with a cross look. "Why you tink dey goblin traps unda heeya?"

Eron scratches his chin and thinks.  He scratches his chin more and thinks some more.  "Nope.  I can't remember a time when goblins fought fair.  I can't blame them though, being as ungifted as they are, except in being stinky and ill-mannered."

Goblins fight to win, silly fairy! Oh and turnin' indivisible, you tink it fair? Goblins is winnin'! We takin' all de lan' back dat de hyoomans and dwarf and elf stole! Just got to share it with de orks an' hobs an' whatnot. We take care o'dem later!"

"Hey, I never said the traps were Goblins!"

Tankee de rabbit offer Ma-na-ku-boy, best save for later. An' no, we no find dis under place since we been here. Dat all me know bout de humans here. Dat vine stuff out de mouf and de ears,
 dat scary! Even for de goblin!"

Manaku re-puts the dried rabbit meat inside the backpack.



"No worries, miss"



"So you never been here... all right"

To Eron:
"It's useless to use her as a trap detector. I don't think they've ever passed there"

And manaku will observer the floor searching for traces that aren't from his new companions.

12:09, Today: Manaku rolled 12 using 1d20+1.  Searching for enemies traces.

In reply to Manaku (msg # 19):

[roll a D6 per your character sheet, please]

"Besides traps, goblins also tells lies."  Eron eyes their new companion warily.  "Do as you wish, but I would watch that one closely."

16:25, Today: Manaku rolled 2 using 1d6.  Searching for traces.

(I don't know what to add)

[No need to add, in B/X there's a straight 2 in 6 chance for Elves to find Secret Doors, 2 in 6 for Dwarves to find "construction tricks" which includes secret doors, traps etc., then there's the Thief tables.]

Manaku is certain there are no secret doors along the length of the passageway heading south. The two obvious doors on either side halfway down the passage are solid oak, with iron hinges and such, standard construction. Further down the passage makes a turn to the east.

"Doors," Brodd notes.  He figures this was old abandoned storage.  However, there was also the chance the vintner had not used this basement which meant it fell to the previous owner(s) demesne.  Lacking any knowledge of the history of this place, it was anyone's guess what was down here.

"Let's be quick.  Anyone down here is going to be scared and lost, this place was not used by the occupant."

Actions
Get the doors open, staying in march order.  If we need torches, then get one per 4 people

Sasar will carry a lantern as a primary light source. Other than that he is pretty useless. :)

Neither door budges when you tug on the handles. They appear to be locked.

Brodd really didn't feel commissioning Amalrik to start breaking down doors, nor asking someone with deft fingers like Manaku to start prying off hinges.  "Maybe we'll find a key chain somewhere," Brodd mutters, mostly to himself.

The young priest suggests they leave the door for now and explore the length of the passage.

Regdoc lifted the butt of his morning-star and banged it against the door. "Hey if you're in there, open the door! We seek shelter from the fires!"

The oldster shrugged. "Dudn't hurt to try..."

Amalrik great sword in hand pulls security for the group an Brother Brodd decides the next step.

Sasar clears his throat and speaks with quiet voice:

“I’m not a tactician by any sense, but perhaps we should consider forcing the doors open? I’m not comfortable with an idea that someone or something could flank our group from behind. If the rooms are checked to be empty or cleared by us, our trek further ahead could be, perhaps, little safer.”
This message was last edited by the player at 19:48, Sat 17 Nov 2018.

Creston wanders wanders around and taps on random containers with his sword, listening to how each sounds.

Sasar's advice was sound.  The world was full of surprises, and someones and somethings, too.  Even if these doors proved merely to be portals to empty rooms full of dust not disturbed in a drake's age, it was worth the time to make sure.

"Fine.  Iffy?  Are you here?" Brodd accosts the shadows.  "If so, please try the locks."

If the rogue failed to appear, then the backup plan was Amalrik's muscles.

[Is he going to try and smash the lock or break down the entire door? For the second option is he going to just slam into it or use a weapon?]

The wizard lifts his lantern and bends down to study a door and its locking mechanism closer.

“Hmm, a crowbar would be most useful right now. I knew I should have packed one of those too! Well, you can't bring everything necessary along. In lack of proper tools we have to rely on raw strength then."

"Amalrik, would you be so kind and force the doors open, please?”

Regdoc banged on the door once more, raising his voice even louder, "OPEN UP I SAY! WE KNOW YOU"RE IN THERE! IF WE HAVE TO BREAK DOWN THIS DOOR, IT WILL MAKE NEITHER OF US HAPPY! OI! OPEN UP! I SAY, OPEN UP!"

The oldster stepped back and scratched at his beard, "Hmmm... that usually works..."

Chomper just licked his lips hungrily, eyeing the goblin.

Regdoc's shouting echoes like thunder down the passageway. As it fades, a sound like leaves in the wind remains for a few seconds before fading as well.

Yagi looks up at Regdoc with a look of disbelief.

"Admit it! You never been undagroun' before, have you path-talker? Maybe yell louder so dey hear you at de gates of de UNDERDARK! An' you keep you scrawny wolf away from Mista Wong!"

"Agreed, too much noise helps no one," Brodd says with a grimace.

Regdoc snorted and turned his back on the door. "Yes, and the subtle tones of this brute's battle-axe will be like rose petals drifting upon a placid pond... Bah!"

"You were warned! Don't say I didn't warn you, I did!"

"Well, stealth is a bust. Just hurry up and bash it down, before they have time to line up on the other side, in phalanx formation."

“Well, that’s it for the stealthy approach then...”

Sasar's eyes glitter with silent amusement. He glances at Regdoc and shakes his head.

Lifting his lantern high above his head the wizard peers in the dark corridor beyond as expecting something charge from the darkness any moment now.

“If there is anything with ears in these tunnels, it heard that. Stay alert! And indeed, we might as well hack our way through the door now.”

The Seeker of the Wandering One snorted. "If you're all this scared of a wine cellar, I'll hate to see what you're like when we get to a real dungeon!"

In reply to Regdoc (msg # 42):

Sasar flashes a quick apologetic smile:

“I beg your pardon, Master Regdoc. I’m not an adventuring or wandering type, really. I usually deal with books and manuscripts in a well lit library. This place… it’s not my favored terrain, so to speak. So yes, I’m quite nervous.”

Nervous, they were all nervous.  Above them was a fire and they might be trapped in this cellar for days.  Hopefully not, but it was certainly possible.

"If the doors prove too stubborn, we'll have to risk a jaunt down the corridor," Brodd says.  He didn't mind staying put either, just for a short while so they could gather themselves (and their nerves) and get a better sense for the new people.

Resting on his sword Amalrik pulls out his wineskin and takes a drink; "Out of my way then and I will have a go at the door."  Placing his sword back in its scabbard on his back Amalrik readies to push his shoulder against they door.

OOC:  not sure what you want me to roll on this for starters just rolled a d20 and added +2 for my str bonus.

19:49, Today: Amalrik rolled 11 using 1d20+2.  STR.

The locked door refuses to budge.

[*DM stirs from food coma*]

[For future reference: Per the source material, locked doors can only be opened by picking the lock or by magic. If this were a STUCK door you would have had a base 2 in 6 chance of forcing it open, modified by Strength, so for Amalrik it would have been a 4 in 6 chance. Sorry!]

"Hmm... don't want to dull your axe huh?" He cocked an eyebrow at the brute, Amalrik

Regdoc shrugged and scratched Chomper between the shoulders a bit. The large guard dog responded by stretching and wagging his tail which stirred up a little bit of dust.

"AAH-HA-CHOO!" Regdoc sneezed. "Well, hrmm... I GUESS THEY WON'T BE ACCEPTING THEIR PRIZE AFTER ALL!" The oldster shouted toward the door.

"Let's go find someone else to bother Brother," Regdoc grunted to Brodd.

"Should you try the other door as well?"

Sasar says and turns 180 degrees towards the second door on the other side of the corridor, providing lantern light as needed.

Lacking magic or the right key, these doors would continue to bar their progress.  Brodd doesn't seem too perturbed.  Once they have tried the other door, he urges: "Come on, let's go down this hallway ..."

In reply to Brother Brodd (msg # 49):

The other door’s lock is in disrepair, corroded with age.

"You there with the axe and the over-developed physique... No, not you Chomper, you don't have an axe!" Regdoc pointed to the door and gestured to Amalrik with a jerk of his white maned head. "This is where you earn your gravy."

In reply to Regdoc (msg # 51):

[I'm pretty sure that's a greatsword he's wielding.]

"Who carries a sword that big anyway? I thought it was an axe..." Regdoc observed to his hound.

The other door’s lock is in disrepair, corroded with age.

There was a lecture about entropy some pedagogue might give, but now was not the moment and this was not the place.  Why one lock was secure and the other not?  Was it the symptom of a half-caring home-owner or the failure of a lacking lackey?

"A swift kick should do it," Brodd says gently, his words slightly regretful that they find themselves in a position to be laying boots to anything that had once been carefully crafted and properly placed with purpose.

"If it was made, it can be unmade. It's just a matter of how much noise we are willing to make and how much time we are willing to take."
This message was last edited by the player at 22:20, Tue 27 Nov 2018.

The pixie yawns in the back.  "For as much as he drinks, I would think he can just push the door down."

"Its a sword not an axe old man...but if you could find me an axe then I could probably shred that door."

Yagi looks up at at Amalrik.

"Hey ogre boy! De sun talker wan' you to knock down de door wit de broken lock now, you get?"

Seeing the paralysis which seems to have seized up his drinking partner, Eron steps up to the door.  He spits once into each of his hands and rubs them together.  Then he places his hands onto the door and pushes with his might, remembering to use his legs rather than his lower back for power.  Suddenly the door gives!

OOC: 08:09, Today: Eron Windblade rolled 1 using 1d6-1.  D6 Strength check. SUCCESS!

The corroded lock falls to the stone floor with a clatter as the door swings open with groan. Scores of beady eyes shine as they stare into the lantern light, then scatter in all directions.

"Now THAT'S dungeoneering my fine little fellow!" Regdoc exclaimed with an actual smile on his weathered face. It was quickly gone, but surely the pixie would have seen it.

"Let us then proceed!"


OOC: Assuming same entrance order as marching order...

The room itself is barely large enough to hold everyone. There appears to be skeleton on the floor in a far corner, its bones holding only a few scraps of cloth left on its frame. The wax dripping of a collection of candles sit beside it, and a sack lay under its skull like a pillow.

Eron wonders over to check what may be in the former resident's precious sack.

In reply to Eron Windblade (msg # 63):

In the sack Eron finds:

a couple of empty wine bottles
a leather-bound book
a quill and ink bottle
5 gp
11 sp
28 cp

Eron inspects the empty bottles and then tosses them aside.  He flips through the book to see if he understands any of it, but he might be holding it upside down...or not.

In reply to Eron Windblade (msg # 65):

With an INT of 10 I assume Eron's at least partially literate.  Most of it looks boring. It's a ledger of deliveries up and down the coast of casks of wine, expenses and receipts, that sort of thing.

Near the end it gets interesting. First entry:

Unable to deliver casks to Braunstein wedding. Wedding planners complained of minotaur rampaging through venue. Bride donned armor and rode in to vanquish. This is way beyond my salary. Going back to the Abradoc.
This message was last edited by the GM at 20:53, Wed 28 Nov 2018.

"Now, that's a different story, isn't it?"

Again, Sasar lifts his lantern high so that the room I well lit for everybody to see.

“Well, the writing tells us little in addition to what we already know... Poor fellow, I wonder what was his or her demise? It doesn’t look like a violent death, does it?”

“Does anyone want the quill and the ink? If not I’ll take them.”

(Is there anything else in the room?)
This message was last edited by the player at 22:15, Wed 28 Nov 2018.

There appears to be skeleton on the floor in a far corner, its bones holding only a few scraps of cloth left on its frame. The wax dripping of a collection of candles sit beside it, and a sack lay under its skull like a pillow.

The scavengers have taken every last scrap of flesh.  "He died waiting out the goblin seige?" Brodd wonders aloud, assuming it was a man and noting that he can't have been down here too long but lacking food and water, even a week would be too long.

5 gp
11 sp
28 cp

It was sad when one's life was summed to account, sometimes.  Brodd ignores the coins but reads the ledger closely, looking for a name so they can identify the bones and say a proper last rites.
This message was last edited by the player at 22:24, Wed 28 Nov 2018.

Seeing that it is merely a ledger and a journal, Eron lets the others fuss over the book.  He takes the gold coins and lets the others sort out the rest.

Manaku seeing one of the door are opened he'll try to open the other one with his hatchet hitting where the lock is.

17:32, Today: Manaku rolled 5 using 1d6.
dunno if I need to subtract something cause I'm using the hatchet...

The ledgers do reveal his initials as C. J..

Some further entries you can decipher...

Thunderclaps to the north but there's no rain. Refugees are passing through from the north and east saying the baronies are falling to an onslaught of humanoids and monsters! I'm sure they're gleaning our fields. They may as well if there's no one left to sell wine to!

---

I heard screaming in the sky. I looked up in the dying light of dusk to some winged creature carrying a poor woman like a falcon with a fresh fish! I don't care if the cart belongs to the management, I'm driving south to Masondain at dawn and taking the first boat off the Continent!

---

GOBLINS. They attacked before dawn. They took the horses. Luckily I knew about the secret storage beneath. I took the candles above. I need to work fast. One door is locked. The Southern door is forbidden but what choice do I have?

---

Eastern passage is haunted! The west passage is even worse! This winery was built on THAT the whole time? I'm never drinking wine again!

---

On my last candle. Rats are getting closer. Threw them my last bit of food as an offering. I think it just made them hungrier. Finishing my last bottle before the flame goes out. I remember my mother's bedtime prayers.

Let there be - there will always be - Neverending Light!

Manaku begins chopping around the lock of the heavy oaken door. The sound echoes down the hallway. This could take a while...

"What a way to die. My choice is to collapse on the open road, having dragged myself the final league. I wonder what worse than haunted might mean? Perhaps we ought to explore a bit more down here while we're waiting for the fires to burn themselves out..."

Regdoc gave the goblin a sneer after reading of the attack, but said nothing.

"The forbidden passage is this way elf!" He called to Manaku. "Unless you think you can get through..."

“Hrmp! Sounds like ramblings of a mad man, really. Which he probably became once he was trapped in here, all alone. Poor fellow indeed. If what he wrote is true, this isn’t a ordinary wine cellar for sure. Alright, lets move on. We should watch the corridor. The elf is making lots of noise.”

The wizard moves on the doorway and peeks towards south where corridor continues past the doors into darkness and gulps down rest of the wine he had taken earlier.

Down past the initial range of your lantern's glow is a stout iron door with a patina of rust, but still strong. The wooden frame around it, however, has rotted, so it barely stays on its hinges. The lock is still intact, but it's no longer connected to the frame, so the whole door can be swung open with some effort.

Manaku begins chopping around the lock of the heavy oaken door. The sound echoes down the hallway. This could take a while...

"There's no harm in it, we've the time," Brodd says.  He agrees with Sasar, the rest should guard in case the 'haunted' part of the passage came for them.

"I'm already haunted. I'm not worried. In fact, I'm curious as to what he discovered down here."

Manaku is keeping axing the door, trying to use more force

"This door won't stop me!"

12:56, Today: Manaku rolled 2 using 1d6.  Keeping axing the door.

Eron looks over Manaku's handiwork.  "I don't suppose that's the forbidden door, is it?  By the way, is this the west corridor?  I've lost my way a bit."  **hic**

The old Seeker was beginning to have some suspicions about the pixie... How is it possible for a wee one such as this to drink more than his own volume in wine? And not just once, but apparently man times over? And how is it not dead from the effort instead of just a little turned around with its directions? Bah!

Glancing at Chomper's lifted ears, he suddenly realized he'd been saying this quietly instead of just thinking it.

Pulling out his flail, Regdoc grunted. "Pick a path Brodd and let's get going. That fire up there won't burn forever, and when it's out this place will be crawling with goblins looking for some new warren to infest. In fact, let's see if we can't bring this all down behind us as we go out..."

Yagi spits.

"You say dat like a bad ting, path-talker!"

The eastern door suddenly clicks, and the door opens wide, with Iffy standing behind it, lockpicks in hand.

"Can you believe on top of all that there was a trapdoor by the fireplace?"

Regdoc blinked.

"Thought you took the silverware and called it a career. You surprise me Iffy. May He Whose Path Goes Ever Onward help you in your journey..."

He seemed sincere. "Glad you're here... now get back to your job." But he said it with softened eyes.

She doesn't seem to register his sincerity, but then her body language has always been...off.

"My current job I guess is to figure out how this machine works! Come look!"

She points to something in the room that looks like a wine press framed over a table with square metal pieces under it.

"I think instead of pressing grapes this thing presses...words? On paper? And this other press over here squishes the pages together between the covers, I think."

She points to the cobwebbed shelves lining the room, empty save for a few books.
This message had punctuation tweaked by the player at 18:00, Fri 30 Nov 2018.

Amalrik drew his sword when the door swung open, but quickly sheathed it when he saw it was their resident convict.



Amalrik scoffs.

"Pressing words! Do they drink the ink like wine? This makes no sense to me!"
This message was last edited by the player at 19:16, Fri 30 Nov 2018.

The eastern door suddenly clicks, and the door opens wide, with Iffy standing behind it, lockpicks in hand.

"Can you believe on top of all that there was a trapdoor by the fireplace?"

"Well done," Brodd says.  He'd of course seriously doubted the scoundrel had stuck around and was very glad to have been proved wrong.  Now they could continue the young woman's path to redemption, as important as any of the god's works they were doing on this mission.

He peers past her.  "What is in there ...?"

She points to something in the room that looks like a wine press framed over a table with square metal pieces under it.

Brodd examines in closely.  Perhaps Sasar knew what the machine was for, otherwise Iffy's guess was the best.  A book-making machine of some kind.  "Metallic scribe?" he mutters, wondering if that would catch on.

cobwebbed shelves lining the room, empty save for a few books.

Careful to avoid the cobweb-makers, Brodd gingerly takes one of the books, wipes it gently, and takes a look.  He repeats this cautious process with the rest, knowing that being to rough could make a poorly-bound tome fall apart.

Actions
Enter eastern room
Carefully inspect books

The first book: Discussions on the Theory of Spontaneous Generation Vol. I
An introduction to the idea that in dark unvisited places, animals and monsters for undiscerened reasons will simply come into being. Letters pro and con. Descends rather quickly into personal attacks. Plans for Vol. II cancelled.

The second one: Principles of Stagecraft
This one is full of stage diagrams and illustrations for mimicking effects that could be easily done by magic, but at a fraction of the cost.

The third book: A Nomenclature of Polearms
An exhaustive treatise on  putting different kinds of blades on sticks and what to call them. Nice illustrations though.

The fourth book: Abradoc is a collection of wine labels created by the Abradoc winery over its fine 87-year history. Also describes how they built the winery on the site of a castle destroyed the century before. Also includes an order from the then-Baron of Braunstein that the vegetation must be carefully attended so "that which is interred never reawakens." enforceable by life imprisonment or death.

Creston encourages Brodd to read the passages about the castle and the weeds in its entirety, out loud, to everybody.

Brodd dutifully paraphrases:


...they built the winery on the site of a castle destroyed the century before. Also includes an order from the then-Baron of Braunstein that the vegetation must be carefully attended so "that which is interred never reawakens." enforceable by life imprisonment or death.

The young priest supposes that neither a harvest left to rot on the vine nor burned to cinders qualified as 'carefully attended'.  "We'd better prepare ourselves for an awakening."

"Exactly what I was thinking, though a more thorough examination of the text may give a hint as to what is coming. Are we about to be attacked by the plants, or by a ghost who is offended that we haven't cut the weeds?"
This message was last edited by the player at 00:06, Sun 02 Dec 2018.

Yagi clutches Mista Wong and stares into it's face(?), "Hear that Mistah Wong?, dem tall-legs think they be more spirits here. You could use the company!"
This message was last edited by the player at 03:00, Sun 02 Dec 2018.

Creston looks around the room. "Who is Mr. Wong?"

In reply to Creston Fairwood (msg # 93):

The garishly dressed goblin holds the stick topped with a human skull and decorated in rags and beads up to Creston, "You not have proper intro-duktion, Mistah Wong meet hooman, hooman meet Mistah Wong, see!...proper intro-duktion."
This message had punctuation tweaked by the player at 14:30, Sun 02 Dec 2018.

"It's called a fetish," Brodd explains, with some distaste.  They would continue to tolerate the goblin just for so long, and then things were going to come to a violent head.

In truth, the young priest hopes they might get along a bit longer, there was no telling what was down here and they'd need every ally in order to survive something truly bad.

One of the tenets of faith for those who would follow the Footfalls of the Wandering One, was that of taking in the sights, events, and points of interest along their path. This could certainly qualify for all three... and then some.

"It may be that our advantage is not yet lost. If we act quickly, perhaps we can... encourage... whatever this scourge is, to return to its slumber. Or end it before it's fully awake."

Chomper sat ready with the old cleric at his side. The dog looked ready to proceed deeper. Regdoc's posture was much the same.

"Alright, Mr. Wong," says Creston, "if you can hear or talk to the restless spirit, tell your master what we're up against."

Eron can only shake his head.  Even when he's had too many bottles, Eron didn't see non-existent spirits nor would he trust in their judgment.  He wonders whether or not he has joined a doomed expedition, in which case he should just drink some more to ease the dull pains of their doom.

During the time Brodd spends reading the folios and otherwise examining the hallway, Sasar needs to refill his lantern. It's also probably a good time to take in a meal, so your stomachs are telling you.

Sasar studies the strange machinery with keen eyes and then gives a curious glance at Iffy.

“Metallic scribe? Never have I heard of such machine exist and I’m not a young man, as you can see. All books I have seen have been carefully copied by a scribe - such as myself - or a skilled calligrapher. And how would you know if this would be such a machine? For a common criminal you have vivid imagination, Iffy. No offense.”

The wizard seems to be uninterested of the tomes Brodd had found. Instead, after careful rummaging through all his packs and sacks, Sasar refills the lantern.

“I’ve got four more oil flasks, it seems. After we have run through them I’m unable to provide light, I’m afraid. It never occurred to me we would be spending extensive time underground. Anybody got any torches, should we need them?”

“Because I -do- know complicated machines. And you can see how the thing is set up and the letters in these books match these backwards letter things. In fact I’m taking these backwards letter things with me in this sack because they’re probably worth something!”

Regoc regarded the thief thoughtfully, "sort of like ammunition then? Interesting... Yes I could see how those might be of value. Perhaps there's one with an 'R'? It would be quite entertaining to imprint upon the mind of a foe with my sling..."

“I’ve got four more oil flasks, it seems. After we have run through them I’m unable to provide light, I’m afraid. It never occurred to me we would be spending extensive time underground. Anybody got any torches, should we need them?”

"Torches, yes, five," Brodd says.  Once the light ran out, they'd have to rely on on not being underground.

Since this was a time of relative calm and pause, the priest hunkers down with the book on pole arms and has some lunch.  Or was it breakfast?  No, definitely lunch, or dinner.
This message was last edited by the player at 23:28, Mon 03 Dec 2018.

In reply to Brother Brodd (msg # 103):

Yagi keenly observes the human's fascination with reading. It seemed to be a method of exchanging information and learning new things. Yagi definitely should learn how to read.

"Yes, Mistah Bone, dem humans talk a whole bunch."

Yagi pokes Brother Brodd with a bony finger.

"Hey you, brainy hooman, how you learn to read?"

Amalrik stands guard outside the word pressing room, calmly cleaning his fingernails with his dagger.  He can light the torch if needed, otherwise he lets the others mumble along while he idly looks about and listens.  Pressing words indeed, he heard no screams of agony from within.

Manaku, tired after having hatched the door looks at Yagi poking the man

"He doesn't seem to have te patience to teach you how to read... but i can help you, Yagi. If you permit me, in a second moment, when we'll have time"

Manaku, put his hand inside of his backpcak and pull out two piece of dried meat from a rabbit, previously hunted. He begin to eat one piece, and offers the other to Yagi.

"Now, that you know me more, do you want a piece?"

Manaku smile gently.
To Yagi: You do notice the two glowing red eyes, little disquieting, looking at you.

The wizards eyes, deep in their sockets below bushy eyebrows, study keenly the machine and dart between the machine and the books as he processes Iffy’s explanation.

“Hmm, I can see your what you mean, Iffy. Your words make sense to me. This thing is a clever apparatus. Very clever indeed! I think we might be witnessing results of a research done by some great wizard -”

He pauses and his eyes widen at sudden idea:

“Brother Brodd, are there any names in those books? Name of someone who has perhaps, well, created them with this machine?”

The hunched and lanky wizards leans forward in exited anticipation, so much that his long beard nearly touches the room floor.

In reply to Manaku (msg # 106):

"Yes, me want a piece, but sumptun strange lookee this way."

Yagi points to the glowing red eyes...

The inside covers list them as Abradoc Printing Press, Patent Pending.

Yagi pokes Brother Brodd with a bony finger.

"Hey you, brainy hooman, how you learn to read?"

The poking does not go unnoticed.  Unfortunately for Yagi, Brodd is barely brainy.  He does, however, have good manners.

"Ahem, I learned it as a child," he says, debating whether to explain the idea of classes and tutelage to the shaman, or simply leave at that.  "The same way that you, er, learned to hunt .. I suppose?  You had a teacher?  It is the same with learning anything.  If you have the patience and diligence, you can learn it too."

Now that Manaku has volunteered to give Yagi lessons, Brodd nods along and goes back to his book.

The inside covers list them as Abradoc Printing Press, Patent Pending.

"This contraption appears to be a new invention?  Lacking an inventor, it may be the only one of its kind," Brodd muses to Sasar.  Perhaps one day they might return and learn more, but for now they'd have to be content with their underground explorations and then, hopefully before too long, getting back on the road to rescue.

"Another invention by Pat Pending. Whoever he is, he's a genius."

Creston munches on his dried fruit, while he waits for Brodd to finish reading. He tries also to keep an eye on the doors, just in case.

Amalrik also munches something with a jerkey texture and scent.  Rest when you can, pummel and drink when you can.

Are these Manaku's eyes or some other set?

"I don't know. My eyes are on the door."

They're in his eye sockets so I assume they're his.

"No name of a real person then? Pity. As fascinating as the apparatus is, we have to leave it be for now. We should not linger. Lets move on, shall we?"

The wizard proceeds to move out of the chamber, carefully checking the corridor and darkness beyond before going.

"Anybody willing to scout ahead, down the corridor?"

Finally, enough talking and gossiping.  Amalrik draws his sword Second after Iffy.

Manaku just smile and give the piece of dried meat.

"Don't worry little girl, these eyes aren't going to... hurt you, but sorry for some of your "ex" companions. I did killed a few of them a little while ago."

And he will follow Amalrik, 30 feet behind him, with bow at ready.


Give the piece of meat to Yagi
Followinf Amalrik, 30 feet behind him

In reply to Manaku (msg # 118):

Yagi replies, "Eyes spooky but Yagi get used to it.

"Thud you big and strong, you go ahead of Yagi and Yagi will follow, you protect Yagi good now."

Yagi will follow behind Thud, and whomever he follows.

While waiting for the group to finish eating and rest, Yagi figures this would be a good time to commune with the spirits. She sits down cross-legged on the floor and clutches Mistah Wong in what might be called a death grip and begins to chant and put herself into a deep trance.

This goes on for quite sometime with the tone and pitch of Yagi's chanting building into a cacophonous crescendo. Finally, she stops and falls back her eyes rolling into the back of her head.

1st Level MU spell: Sleep


Not quite sure how to post die roll



Don't know how I rolled twice, same result though.
This message was last edited by the player at 02:03, Mon 24 Dec 2018.

Iffy in front, Manaku behind, crazy woman singing to shrunken head somewhere further back in the line.  Anyone who doesn't know where we are .. does now.  Amalrik does some stretches to loosen up.