In reply to Brindle (msg # 916):

As the Goblin's depart so too does Gratchscarth's anger and command of the situation.  Like a Chihuahua his vicious snarl rapidly shrinks back into a retreating snivel as the adrenaline leaves him.  He tries to regain his composure but for the moment fails, looking blankly at the now empty room.

Drawing in a deep breathe to settle himself the smells of the Goblins does it's magic and breaks him from the mental paralysis.  He follows the Goblins, perhaps a spark of memory in the back of his head advising him their rush towards wherever they are going might present some merriment in the form of their decapitation or falling into spiked pits.





OOG:  Sigh! Spoke too soon, more visits to hospital for more cuts and slices.  Getting older really isn't that much fun.

Wrukaog watches the gnoll wander off after the goblins with a bemused smile on his face.

"Dat's a good doggie," he finally mutters. "Kinda weird, not trained proper, but I kinda liked him anyway."

He looks around at the rest of the group.

"So, what's it going to be? Back to the gnomes for a feed and a rest?"

OOT: ... Good luck with the surgery G.  Yep, getting older sucks.  Glad in-game G has found something to laugh at :-)

Tesseryn agrees with Brindle. "Yes.  And I'd like to ask them for more than just food this time.  It seems to me that they are far too preoccupied with preserving the status quo.  I think they could prove more tangible support to help us tip the balance."

He watches Gratchscartch go and calls after him. "I'll get this refilled at least!  If you need to find us, follow this trail.  Good hunting!"  He drags the empty sausage packet against the wall to make a scent trail for the gnoll to follow.

He leads the way upstairs towards the entrance to the white tower.

When the others reappear from the dark doorway, Aurion tosses aside the scroll he was browsing, springs out of the comfy chair and closes the door to the workroom. "Shem deserves to have his brains turned to mush up there, though I doubt you'd notice a difference".

On the long walk back he tells a tale of the unhelpful Halphed. "I really have no idea whats beyond that door. I'm going to ask Gnevron for parchment to make a map of all we've seen, maybe the gnomes can help orient it so we can see how it all fits together, and maybe that'll give a clue about what's there."

At the flight of stairs leading up to the skeleton room he wonders "Did the orcs make it back with the barrel of ale?" He presents the mayors ring to calm the skeleton mob and has a good look around to see whether the orcs made it through.

One everyone has wished Gratchscartch the best of luck, as the gnoll pads away in pursuit of some goblin fun, you all head down the narrow south passage that leads to the large chamber where you met the dice rolling giants, thence up the stairs to the upper level where Aurion proffers the mayor's ring to drive the undead back a pace to allow you past. 

Skirting around the remains of a zombie you dealt with earlier, and noting that there's now several dead orcs decorating the chamber (looks like that barrel of ale you were waiting on won't be arriving anytime soon), you pause as an armoured head pokes around the corner from the opening in the north wall.

"You here to relieve us ?" the owner asks with a certain amount of wistful longing, hurrying back out of sight as several undead lurch towards him, though they stop on the threshold of the opening.

"We've been down here a while ... not that we're complaining," he complains in the fashion of one who would deny it and blame you if put to the question.

Map of the proceedings updated ...

"Friends of yours?"  Tesseryn asks pointedly of Aurion as he steps over an orc corpse.  He heads for the exit, weary of this perplexing place for today, yet hopeful to re-visit the white tower and petition for aid in this quest.

Then the armoured person announces himself.  Tesseryn clanks to a halt, and turns his annoyed glare in that direction.  He takes a deep thoughtful breath as he considers a lie, then just shakes his head. "No!"  He takes a step toward that opening then pauses, waiting to see whether Aurion will part the undead sea, walls of skeletons to the left and zombies to the right.

In reply to Tesseryn Brightsoul (msg # 922):

OOG: I wasn't intending to detach from the game, just being in character.  He's not exactly the sharpest tool in the shed.

GM, when appropriate Gratchscartch will notice no-one has followed and return to the party thanks to the sausage daubing impressionism of Tesseryn. Suasagism!

Surgery is yet another wound which doesn't want to heal itself.

OOC: go well G. Drop back in whenever you can. :--)

"Not any more." Aurion replies. He retrieves the parchment note he gave the orc's, examines it briefly then returnes it to a pocket of his robe.

Holding aloft the Mayors ring, he presses through the silent shuffling crowd and smiles enigmatically at the speaker. "Don't listen to him... he means 'No, you'll have to relieve yourself.' Old joke from the Two Ronnies I suspect. Now, yes, of course, you're relieved. Are you heading upstairs or down? There have been a few changes up...!"

Brindle follows close behind Aurion as he makes his way through the crowd of undead.

"Is there anything we should know about before you guys head off? Has anyone come past this way while you have been here?" he asks the guard.

Even without Aurion's kind permission, the guard seems much relieved by his assurances as the tide of undead part for the Elven mage, shuffling and moaning as they back away from the ring, and even the reappearance of Gratchscartch, his nose twitching as he scampers up, following the trail of sausage odours, does naught to dampen his spirits.

"Back to the village," the guard nods, gratefully, seemingly unconcerned about whatever changes there may have been.  Indeed, given the nervous and frequent glances he casts back over his shoulder, it seems he is far more worried about what's behind him than than what might be happening 'upstairs'.  "All quiet here," he informs Brindle, thankfully.  "Haven't seen anyone.  Heard a few noises, but we did our duty and stayed at our posts."

Over his shoulder, you can see a largish room, wider, if a little shorter in length than the one you're currently standing in.  Towards the north-east corner a strangely shaped piece of stone protrudes from the floor and through the wall - what appears to be the capstone of a pyramid.

Around the room are another seven guards, all with their full and most earnest attention on a cage that hangs down halfway from the ceiling, about ten feet off the ground, in which lies a puppy, fast asleep.

OOC: Map of the proceedings updated ...

"Ishpemo is the new mayor up there now." Aurion explains conversationally while trying to get a peek at the room behind the guard. "We're new too. We asked him why we're guarding a puppy but he said you'd fill us in."

"We're also looking for Sheriff Merth.  Have you any idea where he's hiding?"  Tesseryn would like to close that chapter.  He peers past the guard as he scans the room beyond for any traces of evil.

In reply to Tesseryn Brightsoul (msg # 928):

Before the Gratchscartch's can search out the source of more sausages the sight of the caged puppy causes his eyes to narrow and an odd look of sorrow flitters for a moment prior to his chest being thrust out.

Heedless of his current companions (or perhaps too thick) he accusingly states

"How rrrotten, can't much have eaten it's firrrst halfling head yet.  Why cage?"

After this he lets out a series of barks and yips that are strangely somewhat a softer tone than normal for him and he tries to make his way cage side.

Brindle will follow the others into the room when he is able to do so.

He looks around at the guards and frowns.

"This is all a bit stiff, isn't it? I mean, I know guards have to stay alert but, really, would it hurt to at least provide some chairs so a chap can rest his legs for a bit? Look, guys, next time you come down, at least bring a few chairs with you, eh?" he suggests.

Wrukaog grins at Gratchscartch and follows him into the room straight away.

"Don't worry, boys. He's a good doggy, really!" he reassures the guards with a grin.

"Puppy !" the guard laughs derisively, shrugging his shoulders at the news of Ishpemo's elevation and shaking his head to deny any knowledge of Sheriff Merth's whereabouts.

"The 'Terrible One' certainly has a sense of humour !" he grins broadly with the avuncular attitude of an old hand delighted to be able to show off under the guise of teaching the new recruits the ropes.

"What we have here just looks like a puppy," he pauses for a second just to warn Gratchscatch back from the dangling cage, "don't get too close there.  No, this is no puppy.  This is the pet of the original high priest of the temple of Mitra.  It had shifted into puppy form to try to hide from the victorious hordes of Set after they destroyed the temple, but Haffrung recognised it for what it was and realised that it was susceptible to a simple sleep spell in that form."

"Clever man, or whatever he is now, Haffrung.  He also fashioned this cage to keep it asleep ... we're not so much guarding the puppy as stopping anyone from trying to wake it.  What a disaster that'd be !"

"Still, now you're on the team eh ?  Guard duty is a doddle - nothing gets past those undead out there without the mayor's approval, so there's not a lot to do.  You're right, though, he tells Brindle, "some chairs would be nice.  I'll ask about that."

"So, it's all yours now.  C'mon lads, first round's on me !"

He holds his hand out to Aurion, obviously expecting to be given the mayor's ring.

"Oh, forget me own head next ... sorry, almost forgot - the puppy's actually a dragon, I'm told.  Well, we must be off ..."

"Ah! That all makes sense now, thank you,,," Aurion pauses to let the guard fill in his name.

"Onoch has been handing out these." He pulls the crumpled parchment from his pocket and passes it to the guard, moving close and dropping his voice conspiratorially, "Fakes! This is the only thing that will keep you safe. Don't let him have it, best you keep it secret." He drops the Mayor's ring into the guards hand.

Stepping back to let the guards leave he chuckles, "And Myrtod is looking for volunteers to do his laundry."

Tesseryn also steps back to let the guards leave. "What about that pyramid thing, can we sit on that?"

As they leave he pats the leather sack he carries.  "No need to hurry back, you've done your share, and we've food for a week."

”Wow, a dragon turned into a puppy? That’s amazing! I bet I can come up with some great limericks about that one. This should be fun. Say, what type of dragon was it? If it was anything to do with Mitra I bet it was one of those goody-goody metallic ones. Let me guess - silver, right?” Brindle asks as he moves closer for a good look at the mysterious prisoner.

Wrukaog peers at the puppy in the cage too, then voices a more practical question.

”Right, so, do we feed it or starve it? Heh, what happens to its dung when you clean it out the cage? Does it turn into stinking dragon dung? If that’s the case, someone else gets that carking job!”

"Rukbat," the spokesguard introduces himself, frowning at the crumbled parchment and accepting the major's ring with an effusion of gratitude, slipping it onto his finger and holding it up to allow his seven companions to safely file past the undead horde without.

He rolls his eyes at the Elf's offhand remark regarding laundry, tapping his nose as he acknowledges the warning, following after the other guards as he continues to answer your questions.

"I wouldn't touch the pyramid," he warns Tesseryn with the air of one who has no intention of hurrying back, indeed even returning at all if he can help it.

"... bronze I think someone said, though you don't want to find out for certain !" he laughs as he corrects Brindle's guesses.

"Again ... you never want to find out !" his roar of laughter at Wrukaog's observation echos faintly as he recedes in the distance.  "I think the cage is 'timelocked' or whatever the right arcane term is ... that's one very old puppy !"

And with that he passes beyond earshot, leaving you alone in the room with the caged puppy.  With the ring gone, the horde of undead in the adjacent chamber press close ... but do not cross the threshold.

OOC: Map of the proceedings updated ...

Once the guards are gone Brindle looks at the cage and thinks about what Rukbat had said.

"Timelocked? Has anyone ever heard of anything like that before?" he wonders aloud.

OOC: Brindle will try to remember anything he has ever heard of that might be what the guard was talking about, then will cast Detect Magic to study the strength and type of magical auras on the cage.

Brindle rolled 25 using 1d20+13.  Knowledge arcana skill check.
Brindle rolled 24 using 1d20+14.  Spellcraft check.

While the rest of you wait with baited breath, not at all disturbed by the horde of undead moaning in the chamber behind you, Brindle ponders for a moment then casts a spell to try to confirm his suspicions ...

After studying the magical auras surrounding the imprisoned puppy, Brindle sighs and shakes his head.

"I  believe it is imprisoned by a Temporal Stasis spell. A powerful enough mage might be able to remove it with Dispel Magic, but I couldn't manage that myself, even if I had that spell prepared. Oh, I have the spell of Dispel Magic in my spellbook all right, but I'm afraid my mastery of magic is not quite strong enough to defeat that spell, even if we wanted to," he reports.

Then he brightens up again as he looks at Aurion.

"Say, I don't suppose you could manage it, could you?" he asks the elf. "Or maybe that naga could do it!"

OOC: DC26 caster level check (D20 + caster level) required on the Dispel Magic check.

"The gnomes in the White Tower might be able to help," Cogwitz pipes up, "those lammasu seemed quite lore-wise."

"Unless there's anywhere down here where magic doesn't work at all," the Halfling ponders. "That's one of the usual obstacles that the ones that build these sort of places like to throw at inquiring souls like us.. though I don't remember coming across anything like that yet. Mind you, it's all been a bit of a whirl!"

He raises an inquiring brow in case anyone else can recall the like.