Giant Wrukaog looks seriously wounded, bleeding profusely from several deep gashes inflicted by the trolls' claws, but he shows no sign that he even notices it as he hacks at the troll again with his greataxe. His rage is still the over-riding emotion driving him on.

If that troll goes down Wrukaog will grab it as it falls and step back 5 feet to haul that 'dead' troll out of the doorway to where the rest of the party can play with it too.
Wrukaog_ rolled 29 using 1d20+12.  To hit troll (rage, power attack, etc).
Wrukaog_ rolled 38 using 3d6+28.  Damage on troll (enlarged, raging, power attack).

Tesseryn taunts his undead opponent, though that unworthy cares naught for the ex-Paladin's words, only the effrontery he shows in willfully and persistently being alive.  And while the creatures incorporeal nature causes Tesseryn's first blow to pass through without harm, the second proves more than effective enough, requiring Aurion, passing by, to do little more than nod approvingly while passing the treasure checking chores over to Leisha.

Indeed, the Elf is a veritable chatterbox, congratulating those who so swiftly slew the Minotaur before taking to his heels and catching up with Brindle to discuss the finer points of what to make of an enraged Orc (bigger, of course, as the Halfling confirms, while blasting away himself at the nearest troll with his trusty wand.

The big Orc in question brooks no discussion, preferring to let his axe talk for him, his second blow, on top of Brindle's mystical missiles doing for the foremost of his foes, grabbing the corpse before it hits the ground and pulling it into the doorway before letting it drop, already looking for the next of the creatures, somewhat heedless that the body at his feet is already starting to twitch.

Though very much alarmed (if more by Wrukaog's axe than the reanimating troll-corpse), Haltashaar knows his duty and steps forwards to stick the beast with his blade to discourage its recovery.  He is joined by everyone's favourite Moram who sprints the length of the passageway, pushing rudely past Aurion and Brindle without so much as a curse to take up station on the far side of the doorway.

The next of the trolls doesn't help his fallen friend much, stamping on his body as he reaches out to flail wildly at Wrukaog with tooth and claw, tearing the flesh from the big Orc's bones in a truly vicious assault, leaving him so badly wounded that it's only his anger that keeps him on his feet and counted among the living ! 

But Ishtar is kind, even to big Orcs, and Her priestess knows where her best chances for survival lie ... with a hope and a prayer, Valshalla provides much needed healing for Wrukaog, giving him at least a fighting chance. 

OOC: Map of the proceedings updated ...

Wrukaog looks like there's really not much fight left in him but he swings his adamantine greataxe one more time in an effort to cut down this next troll as well.
Wrukaog_ rolled 17 using 1d20+12.  To hit troll (rage, power attack, etc).
Wrukaog_ rolled 38 using 3d6+28.  Damage on troll (enlarged, raging, power attack).

Brindle resolutely walks another 20 feet closer to the battleground of the titans and again speaks the command word to fire another quartet of orange-glowing magic missiles at the next troll attacking Wrukaog.

Brindle rolled 11 using 4d4+4.  Magic missile damage on troll.

"Its a holy belt.  Likely with a lion motif." Tesseryn offers helpfully.  With a satisfied nod, that the room is safe and being searched thoroughly by one so capable and trustworthy, he turns on his heel and breaks into a lumbering run toward the next battle.

After moving ahead 30', and 5' over to the right to make way for the clanking ex-paladin, Aurion stops and casts a Grease spell beneath the troll's feet. He holds his breath waiting to see what happens.

As Wrukaog raises his axe once more, Vashalla hurriedly calls upon Ishtar to Bless the big Orc and everyone else in the vicinity.

Perhaps it is the whim of the goddess, perhaps not ... but Wrukaog's weary blow crashes into the skull of his opponent, sending him to the ground where Haltashaar alternates sticking both of the fallen Trolls with his blade.  Such is beneath the notice of Moram who ne'ertheless presses forwards as the big Orc fades to join combat with the last of the creatures ... only for both to realise the doorway is now thoroughly blocked with bodies. 

But not from Brindle who can still spot the beast looming over the pile of corpses.  The Halfling sends another volley of his magic missiles to blast the Troll by way of greeting.

Having assisted as best as he can in Leisha's search for the Girding of Mitra, Tesseryn clatters off down the passage to where his sword might best find use, joining Brindle and Aurion, though the latter pauses to hurl a spell of his own at the remaining Troll, but can only sigh in frustration as he looses his held breath as the creature seems not to notice. 

Though outnumbered, the last Troll elects not only to hold his ground but to force his way forward, hurling aside the body of his fellow just fallen to leave the way clear, again without ending up flat on his face !

Meantime, Cogwitz joins Leisha to assist in the search of the treasure, rubbing his hands with glee before starting the careful examination that should uncover any traps and open any locks.

OOC: Map of the proceedings updated ...
This message was last edited by the GM at 05:59, Sun 15 Nov 2020.

"Ishtar did you say?"  Tesseryn asks Valhalla as he passes, "It feels nice, thank-you."  Deity-shopping already...

"Well done Wrukaog.  Now take a rest and let us get beaten bloody in your stead."

He double moves 40' into the doorway and stands ready to strike the troll if opportunity presents.

"Maybe not all of us." Aurion hopes has he arrives next to Vashalla.  OOC: spell-checker wants to change her to Valhalla. He points his finger and fires a coruscating ray at the remaining troll.

19:37, Today: Aurion Moonbeak_ rolled 5 using 1d6+2.  Ray of Enfeeblement.
19:36, Today: Aurion Moonbeak_ rolled 20 using 1d20+3.  ranged touch with ray.

Wrukaog is still giant sized but so badly fatigued and wounded that he is almost 'out on his feet'. He just grunts in mild annoyance as Moram and Tesseryn push ahead of him into the doorway. He looms behind them, perhaps hoping the last troll might step close enough for him to swing his giant greataxe at it over the heads of the two humans.
This message was last edited by the player at 15:10, Sat 14 Nov 2020.

Brindle steps up beside Aurion and points his wand at the troll again. He speaks the command word again [Language unknown: "Sheoerreshis"] to send another four glowing orange missiles to strike the troll where it hurts most.

"You still have some useful spells left?" he asks Aurion. "I have a Wand of Bull's Strength you can borrow if you want add a bit of muscle to our front line. I already gave Tesseryn a dose."

OOC: Brindle rolled 16 using 4d4+4.  Magic missile damage on troll.

"I wouldn't call any of my spells particularly useful, but I am fond of them." Aurion takes the offered wand.

As Tesseryn takes his guard in the doorway and Moram steps up beside him (the Dervish unwilling to soil his shoes with whatever foul substance Aurion's spell has covered the floor with), the Sorcerer in question, arriving on the scene, looses a coruscating ray from his hand that strikes the remaining Troll, weakening him and setting him up nicely for the barrage of magical missiles that Brindle subsequently hits him with.

Hurting the Troll might be and stupid he certainly is, but no less bloodthirsty as a result.  Roaring, the creature steps forward, ready to rend the nearest sword bearing fools limb from limb ...

... only to crash to the stone flags as his feet go out from under him !

Aurion grins broadly as ex-Paladin and staunch Dervish exchange glances before lunging forwards with their blades as one, taking advantage of the fallen Troll's predicament to puncture him severely.

Though death, it seems, doesn't easily get its ice clutches on such creatures.  As the last joins his fellows, all three continue to twitch as flesh begins to knit and mend, and it is only Haltashaar's stirling efforts in repeatedly slashing at their corpses, for want of a better word, that keeps them from getting up and starting the battle anew.

As Wrukaog rumbles and grumbles at having his daily exercise so rudely curtailed, Brindle passes Aurion a wand ... and back in the chamber where Tesseryn roused the wraits, Cogwitz declares the chests safe and Leisha is able to catalogue the contents, finding a large number of electrum pieces (somewhere in the region of four thousand is the Halfling's estimate as he stares excitedly over her shoulder) in the first, while the second proves to hold a gold Lion mask, studded with precious gems of various sorts, a mithril and electrum spear, a steel bottle, a sliver sword sheath, a Dragon mask of iron and wood, a gold cat figurine set with three aquamarines, an electrum ring and a copper dagger sheath.

OOC: Map of the proceedings updated ...

Tesseryn has a quick look at the room now won, but withdraws from the doorway to stand beside the giant Wrukaog.  He takes a silver beaker from a pouch and offers it to Vashalla.  "If your goddess Ishtar will permit, this heals wounds.  Speak these words, 'Let Agrela Help', then pour the water over one of the orc's wounds, or let him drink." (OOC: as per wand of CLW.  If she won't take it he won't be offended.  It is of no use to him as he can no longer use 'spell trigger' items.)
This message was last edited by the player at 09:26, Sun 15 Nov 2020.

"No useful spells..." Aurion chuckles. He dismisses the grease with a gesture and edges past the dying troll into the room.  Having nothing with which to cauterise its wound except his curiosity, he draws the new glass sword he won from Mitra and jabs it experimentally into the troll.

He looks around the room. What were they up to in here?
This message was last edited by the player at 00:43, Sat 21 Nov 2020.

Giant Wrukaog moves into the room where he found the trolls and decides that Haltashaar's game  looks like fun, so he grins and applies his giant greataxe to that game of whack-a-troll too.

Brindle follows and tells Aurion that the command word for the wand of bull's strength is "Beef up" in draconic.

Then he offers another wand to Vashalla.

"This wand casts a spell called Lesser Vigor, which lets the recipient heal more quickly than they normally would, well for a minute or so anyway. The command word is 'Blooming'. I can't use it but any cleric can. Please use it on Wrukaog and anyone else who needs it. Just one casting at a time, though, as a second casting won't work on the same person until the first has finished," he tells Vashalla.

After that he moves to the closest troll.

"All right then, now let's see what Kelgore's Fire Bolt does to a troll, shall we? It should be interesting, at least."

He lines up his hand at the top of the troll's skull pointing down through its head and neck to the troll's torso. Then he casts the spell to summon a shard of red-hot rock and propel it straight into the troll's head.
This message was last edited by the player at 14:53, Sun 15 Nov 2020.

Vashalla is more than willing to accept both flask and wand, and immediately applies them both to Wrukaog, showing remarkable bravery in the face of the big Orc's keenness to join Haltashaar in applying sharp implements to twitching rubbery flesh. 

With more curiosity than pleasure, Aurion assists them, using the glass blade of Mitra to add some gravitas to what must seem to an outsider, such as Moram who stares on disapprovingly as ever, as a most macabre spectacle indeed.

Brindle, having distributed wands willy-nilly, assaults one of the corpses with magical fire, which has much the effect the Halfling intended, charring the flesh quite nicely and finally causing the blackened remains to cease and desist. 

While he experiments, the Elf looks around the room.  The bodies of the three trolls and the lone minotaur are not very communicative, but that of the man in cleric's vestments, long gloves and a deformed, reptilian cast to his face is just disturbing, while the large table at the rear of the room, laden with a few suits of armour, a couple of weapons and what looks like some jewellery seems destined to keep its secrets.

Brindle stood back and looked at the results of his spell with obvious satisfaction.

"Now that's how to show trolls the respect they deserve," he chuckled. "What a pity I only prepared Kelgore's Fire Bolt once today ... and I only have one pearl of power."

He frowns as he ponders the age old problem of two birds and only one stone. Finally he shrugs.

"Well, it's worth a try. Wrukaog, can you help line these other two trolls up for me? Drag that one round here so they make one long line, but put that one's head between the other one's legs - push its head right up there against the other one's bollocks, so I can try to shoot the Fire Bolt straight down both bodies from top to tail of the first and top to tail of the other one."

As an afterthought he lays the first troll's legs down the second one's chest and crosses its legs at the ankles to hold them in place, taking extra care to dodge any enthusiastically wielded blades that continue to mutilate the regenerating troll bodies.

OOC: When the two trolls are lined up to Brindle's satisfaction he will hold up his enchanted pearl in one hand, line up his other hand at the top of the first troll's head to aim the spell down the length of both bodies and recast the spell.

Wrukaog might be tired but he is still as big as a giant and strong enough to drag a troll across the floor.

He laughs out loud and looks very satisfied with himself when he gets them both lined up perfectly.

Tesseryn has not heard anyone say anything about having found the holy belt, but asks the question to serve as a reminder. "Has anyone found Mitra's belt?"  He notices Vashalla's use of beaker and wand on Wrukaog and smiles briefly in appreciation.  "Thank-you for caring for our friend.  I imagine he's not the easiest patient.  Your blessing feels different to those of Dauros or Mitra ... less compelling, more encouraging.  What virtue does Ishtar champion?"

He continues the search while the strengthening effect of Brindle's wand and Vashalla's blessing remain.  Moving to the nearby double doors he glances to see if any telltale ripple of golden flames on his sword blade reveal the presence of undead before attempting to open the door.
This message was last edited by the player at 02:18, Fri 27 Nov 2020.

"There's more looting to be done in here. Pass it on..." Aurion suggests to the newcomers, hoping they'll tell Leisha and Cogwitz. "Not you though," he suggests to Haltashar, "Beef Up!" He uses Brindle's wand to inspire that warrior.

He moves to the side door of the room and listens, his snakes appearing at sleeve and collar to listen too. If its quiet he'll open the door.

08:26, Today: Aurion Moonbeak_ rolled 14 using 1d20+5.  listen at door.

"Ishtar is the goddess of love and war," Vashalla smiles at Tesseryn, pleased at the ex-Paladin's interest (though Moram's glare suggests he is less enthusiastic that she chooses to espouse her faith to him).

The priestess shakes her head as Wrukaog turns away to follow Brindle's directions.

"He is not," she agrees with Tesseryn's assessment of her patient. "Like any warrior he is too swift to seek to return to the fray."

"Dauros ... I do not know.  Our gods include Dahak, the three-headed dragon spirit of death who has no form, and Druaga, the ruler of the devil world who never appears to any the same way twice."

"Neither of these, I think, are the god you worship ?"
This message was last edited by the GM at 14:22, Sun 29 Nov 2020.

"Dauros is the god of justice, in a distant land named... I forget its name."  Tesseryn sighs, looking over his shoulder from the doors he's about to fling open.  "He asks much of those who serve.  As does Mitra.  All smiles and benedictions, so long as you promise to spill the blood of every fool who entered the wrong tower."  He snorts, it may be a laugh.  "Where does Ishtar stand on forgiveness?"

"Istar is regarded as a dispenser of divine justice," the priestess seems pleased at such a coincidence.  "Yet forgiveness is not in her nature."

"Once she destroyed a mountain which she considered offered an affront to her authority.  And when a king refused to become her consort she loosed the Bull of Heaven upon him, causing the king to become obsessed with his own mortality."