”Much obliged!” Beryoxb says as you sign. ”And that will be... nine-hundred of your gold coins, mister...” He laughs as he reads your initials.  ”S-F?!  As in Stan Fletchin?” He asks with wide eyes.  ” No-yes! It can't be!  He's returned?  I knew you looked familiar!  Why, it's a pleasure to meet one such as yourself--and to render my services and all!  Forget the charges,” he cries, ”and take this!” The little demon fishes in his pouches and produces another flawless diamond, but one with a strange emerald hue.
”I've seen your name in one of Olidraaa--in a priest's, ah... book, er journal.  Something.  Conflict and Strife follow you like a nashrou on the hunt!  If you ever need healing, for yourself or your foes, don't hesitate to call.”
With that, the demon sets about reading the scrolls.  The first closes nearly all of the halfling's wounds.  And the other, before the peacefully sleeping creature can stir, causes him to fade away...

Perception check

Before you can say anything more Beryoxb likewise vanishes, all the while grumbling something about ”probability.”
Demios stands ready to venture into the passage, while the barricade seems ready to fail.

It was not the welcome Stan was expecting. Apparently there were at least some demons left who did not want him to run up against something sharp.

Beryoxb fades away.

"Well that was strange. Come on, Demios. I've wasted enough of your time."

Stan beckons down the opened passageway.

"Thankyou for holding them off. You are a welcome ally. And thankyou for the council about Beryoxb."

16:29, Today: Stan Fetchin rolled 19 using 1d20+4. Perception.

Just before Chubbs fades away, you think you saw him fall away as if the floor had been taken out from under him.  A flash of some sort of watery substance washes over him, and you briefly pick up on a faint trace of salt in the air.

”It isn't my time I'm worried about, m'lord.  Lets find you your queen.”
He leads you into the passage, which proves to be a rather narrow stairwell.  The air here is warm, nearly uncomfortably so.  The perfect environ for one such as your mother-in-law, you think to yourself.

”Be on your guard,” Demios reminds you as you make the climb. ”Morotha is known for her trickery.  Bhaal only knows what she had been doing with that devil in the courtyard.”
Before you can answer, the tight chamber fills with horrid laughter.  Looking around for the source, you spy light growing up ahead--a door!  You are about to say something when a bolt of lighting flashes out from the key-hole and bounces around the enclosure.  Demios shouts something as he falls over you, shielding you from the trap.
The bolt tears across his exposed back, burning through his cloak and charing flesh!

Stan rolls out from under Demios and races up the stairs. Demios is the kind of guy who can take care of himself. Stan's more worried about whatever's at the top of the stairs. He runs up the stairs and stops just short of the door. It probably isn't double trapped, but better safe than sorry. He stands there, waiting to see if anyone opens it from the other side.

You quickly pull away from Demios, making the rest of the way up the stairs.  As you near the door, it swings open—and out bounces a ball wreathed in fire!  You easily dodge it, but two more come bouncing behind it...

Ref SV

At the top of the stairs, you find yourself in Morotha's Observatory.  A pair of heavy stone tables flank the small room, upon which lay piles of odds and ends, rubbish mostly.  The dominant feature in this room is the base of a massive crystalline telescope, which all but juts from an open window overlooking the Abyssal hellscape.

"Stan Fletchin," a low, gruff voice sounds in front of you after a sinister laugh.  A tall figure stands before you, shrouded in a tattered ash grey cloak.  At the figure's feet is a shallow bowl in which is a neat stack of flaming balls.  In front of him lays one such ball, and in his hands he hold a heavy-looking mace.  "It's been a long time, friend.  A long, long time; too long."
The figure removes his hood, revealing to you a familiar, ugly, beaked reptilian face.  The turtle-demon standing before is known to you.  Your first meeting with him was shortly after your wedding to Clementine.  He is Cradossk, Morotha's chief torturer.
He raises the mace and swings, striking the ball of fire and launching it at you!  The shot is sloppy and more of a psychological attack, made more to test you.
"I'm so glad I found you first!  My only regret is that I'm not allowed to kill you slowly.  But orders are orders..."

Initiative

Stan chants a spell as he runs at Cradossk. Stan puts forth his hand to strike at the torturer: not with a fist, but with mind-encumbering magic.

You dodge the worst of the fire.

4-damage

---

You rush forward, your hand leading the way.  The thick, heavy beast cannot hope to avoid your simple attack.  It isn't until he realizes the faint trace of your spell that he knows he's ill prepared for you.  He feebly tries to stumble backward, but is to slow.  You know the spell takes hold as his yellow, pupil-less eyes widen and his brow ridge relaxes slightly.  He appears intoxicated--for a crocodile demon monster...
He raises his mace to strike, but misses horribly, nearly dropping the weapon.

You notice a large trunk behind him, under the telescope.  At the sound of battle, it begins to shake sporadically.

"Demios? Are you alright? I could really use your help!"

Fighting one creature might be alright, but a torturer and an unknown thing-in-a-box: well, it's better to have help for something like that.

Stan grabs his quarterstaff and hits the amphibious demon squarely over the head. Thwack.

Move: draw staff
Standard: Automatically hit for 3 damage. (I'm assuming it's not a critical hit).

18:28, Today: Stan Fetchin rolled 22,3 using d20+2,d6. Quarterstaff attack.
18:30, Today: Stan Fetchin rolled 13,2 using d20+2,d6. Critical Confirm.

You strike Cradossk firmly on the head!  His thick hide does much to prevent your attack's damage, but he most certainly felt it.
The dumbfounded Cradossk snarls, spewing a fair amount of drool—which you recall to being fairly normal for him.  Forgetting his mace, he lunges at you fiercely; and recklessly.  You see an opportunity to counter-attack...

His dirty claws tear into your shoulder, drawing much blood and leaving a solid wound.
You can hear Demios stirring somewhere behind you, still on the stairs.
The chest continues to spasm.  A familiar voice reaches your ears, giving you a surge to your resolve: Clementine!
"Stan!  You must flee this place—it's a trap!!  Run, Stan, RUN!!"

5-damage from Cradossk's unarmed strike
You immediately recover +10 hp!

You may roll an AoO before your next round's actions

20:19, Today: Stan Fetchin rolled 18,1 using d20+2,d6. AoO.

Stan seizes the opportunity to counter-attack, but his inexperience leads to a clumsy riposte. He steps away from the torturer, points his finger towards the chest, and utters words of magical power.

"Sed evocant igneus orbem agere alea damnum tres!"

A flaming sphere burts into being and rolls towards the chest. The flames engulf it and begin to lick hungrily at the wood.

Move: 5-foot step back and to the side ("diagonally" away from enemy)
Standard: flaming sphere

HP 33(?)
AC 15 (11+mage armor)

The croc-demon's eyes widen with rage as you counter-strike.  He appears about to lash out at you again, but the eruption of flames on the chest unnerves him.  Calling you a fool, he withdraws from you and away from the box.  He ducks behind a high shelf, disappearing from view.

Stan looks around for other exits or entrances.

What are the other ways in or out of here?

You look around the small chamber, dumbfounded that the monster could have run away and lost you in a room you swore was no larger than ten feet squared.  At first, you holds onto this illusion but after a moment you realize that is exactly what it is: an illusion.  The seemingly tiny observatory is furnished in such a way that at first glance it truly appears to be a small, cramped chamber; however as you have found with all things abyssal/infernal, nothing is as it would outwardly seem.
You blink a few times and after several moments you realize you are standing in the midst of a great chamber--nearly impossible to tell exactly how big it is in here.
A line of book shelves that line the walls are actually entrances to a labyrinthine maze, what appeared to be high tables at first are in truth raised platforms, balconies of smaller alcoves.  This chamber rivals the library at Arcanus-Tirith!

You are brought back to the situation at hand as Demios calls out to you.  ”M'lord!  Look out!”  You hear the bouncing balls of fire before you fully comprehend his warning.

Ref SV

23:04, Today: Stan Fetchin rolled 19 using 1d20+2. Reflex Save.

Stan is more worried about the books than his own safety! He manages to duck and weave a bit in defiance of the fireballs.

He begins to run back towards Demios. While he runs he chants the simple abjurative magics he learned in first year.

The sphere of fire continues to burn into the chest.

Move: back towards Demios
Standard: resistance (+1 to saves for one minute)
HP 33
AC 15 (11+mage armor)

23:06, Today: Stan Fetchin rolled 9,11 using 3d6,3d6.  Last round the sphere did 9 damage to the chest, this round 11 for 20 total. (before hardness/DR)

The balls bounce past you, causing only superficial injuries.
Demios skirts around you, riding into the maze after Cradossk.

The fire you've started has burned away much of the chest, revealing something moving inside... ”Stan!  Stan, help me!”

3-damage
This message was last edited by the GM at 05:30, Thu 26 Jan 2012.

"Baby, is that you? Are you hurt?" Stan asks the question calmly, almost too calmly. He knows his wife is quite resistant to fire, magic, and physical harm. That, coupled with an earlier warning about a trap, makes him suspicious of this whole place.

The sphere continues to burn, though the wizard is ready to move it.

Sphere does 14 damage
18:03, Today: Stan Fetchin rolled 14 using 3d6.

Ready action to move the sphere away if it's really Clementine in there.

Clementine's voice waivers slightly as she calls for you, and thick yellow smoke begins to roll out of the burning chest.

Fort SV, DC 13
This message was last edited by the GM at 05:11, Fri 27 Jan 2012.

The wizard begins to cough and wheeze as the diabolical smoke wafts over him. He covers his mouth and eyes, but to no avail.


failed

The smoke continues to ooze out of the chest, filling up an area around you, about 20-ft around the burning chest.  Upon breathing in the foul-tasting smoke, your stomach immediately protests, churning heavily and causes the room to spin...

You are nauseated

You being to breath slowly and heavy, a feeble attempt to avoid wrenching right there on the spot.  Your condition causes you to become somewhat hyper-aware of the sounds coming from elsewhere.  You hear Cradossk snarl loudly, and clashing of steel as the monster presumably battles Demios somewhere in the maze of bookshelves.
You bring your attention back to the burning chest as the orb of fire winks out, you no longer able to concentrate on keeping it burning—or perhaps it's outlived its' duration... you're not sure.  What you are more focused on is keeping your proverbial shit together.  Beads of sweat roll down your brow as you finally notice the thing moving inside the chest, which has now been reduced to cinders and white-hot glowing iron bands: a smaller, fleshy, piggly-looking demon.
It stands among the ashes and erupts in maniacal laughter, revealing to you rows of yellowed and rotten, stunted and broken teeth.  A purple and green sour-mushroom cap bounces on the creature's head as it cackles.  "Meesa sooo sorrri," the demon cries, "but yousa princess iss'n a'nudder castle!"

He grips his fat belly and continues to laugh.  It takes you only a moment, but you realize you recognize this demon, a dretch Clementine commonly referred to as Mmon'ch.  Although a lowly dretch, it possesses the cunning required to rise the ranks of Morotha's servants, attaining a station akin to that of a butler—quite the honor for one such as he.

While nauseated, your actions are limited to a single move action per round
You cannot attack, cast spells, concentrate on spells, or anything requiring attention
This message was last edited by the GM at 23:10, Fri 27 Jan 2012.

Stan begins to stagger back to where he thinks the stairs are. There is little he can do, and if Clementine is indeed somewhere else, then at least nothing he does will get her killed.

”Where's ya goin' hmmmmm?” Mmon'ch asks between his laughter.
You stumble out of the fog, but your senses are anything but calmed.
Through the cloud you see him leap onto the window ledge.  ”'Dossskk... Kill sha boy right quick huh.  Ssa lordling isssa gettin awayas!”

Nauseated condition applies for 4 more rounds

For now, he will have to trust that Demios can take care of himself. The wizard is in no shape to fight, so he continues to stumble blindly towards what he thinks is the way out.

Keep heading for the stairwell.

You stumble your way away from the bouncing dretch and the sounds of the fighting...  A few moments later, you begin to come to in the stairwell.

4 rounds have passed

Sounds of carnage reach your ears from below, a sure sign the demons have broken through and have begun searching for the passage to the staircase, in their own demonic way.

In all the confusion Stan had forgotten about the hot pursuit from below. He moves back into the demonic library and tries to be as sneaky as possible.

Can you roll some secret stealth checks for me?

I could, but I have a better idea.  You roll the stealth check, and I'll roll perception checks for those that are looking for you.  Unless you asked because you aren't in a position to roll at this time...?