Cassander looked at the trapdoor and then back to Dan.  "You just saw that trapdoor now?  Huh." she said surprised.  Cassander had noticed it earlier, maybe there was something to the keener Elven senses.  "I'm thinking that I would sleep better knowing that there was nothing beneath our feet that had a taste for Elf or human."

She knelt down at the trapdoor and felt around the edges for something to lift the hatch up with.  Cassander found a good grip and started to pull.  The trapdoor groaned as though the hinges hadn't been loosened in some time, and still Cassander pulled at it.  "Oh. Come on." she said through clenched teeth.  Bracing herself in a most unladylike fashion, she strained harder at the door.  "Tizona might be a...sorceress but she can't...be this wea..."

The stiff hinges finally gave way.  The trap door sprung open, causing Cassander to lose her balance and stumble comically backwards into someone.

Somewhat instinctively, Greg came near Cassander to "back him up" in case anything was there.   She almost put her sword and torch down to help (she was actually quite strong, especially for an elven cleric) when the door came up and Cassander stumbled back.   A human would have immediately landed on their butt, Greg knew, but the new elf's enhanced reflexes meant more of a stumble back.  Still, Greg had to do something.....

Holding her sword back out of the way, Greg moved behind Cassander and let the woman stumble into her, wrapping her left arm, still holding the magically glowing torch, around her waist.  Greg was amazed how light she was.
Also, how uncomfortable it was to catch someone by letting them bounce of your bosum.

Wincing slightly, she pulled the sorceress to her feet, marveling at her light weight.

Are you ok?

"Uhm, yeah.  I'm...I'm fine.  Thanks." Cassander steadied herself on her own feet, thanks to Gregs help, and nonchalantly tugged at her clothes, straighening them up just a little.  Hopefully the light was dim enough that no one would notice the embarassed look on her face, from the stumble or the landing.  "You never really appreciate a low strength until you have to open up a trap door."

"Proper Dungeon Delving rules say that the thief...er...rogue should go first."  She looked back at Greg and smiled.  The girls nervousness was evident.  "I know you're more than willing to throw yourself in harms way but you're the groups healer.  You're too important to put in the front of the group.  You just hang back here, Bubbles."

Cassander drew her own sword.  She had liked the idea of a sorceress wearing a sword that she never used, and had even named it HardlySeen, but somehow the idea of going into the basement without something in her hands was unappealing. "I figure that it was my idea to go downstairs, I'll go first, if Sarah doesn't mind.  I don't want to take away any chance fro her to use her Roguish charms.  I'll follow second, if she does, then Dan and then Greg."

She chuckled, a soft musical chuckle.  "Party order.  Now it feels like a D&D game.  We just need the Mountain Dew."
This message was last edited by the player at 03:06, Sun 19 Apr 2009.

Greg makes a sound that almost sounds like a throaty growl of longing.

OH GOD!!!!  I could REALLY use a Mountain Dew!   I've been drinking it since I was six and have been hooked ever since.

"Caffeine is the One True God, and Mountain Dew is the Messiah!"
Greg quotes (seeming a bit cheered up by the familiar saying, in this strange environment)

But, you're right.  We have to be practical with party order.   But I dissagre with you going second, Cassander.  We need a better protected person going second.  I was thinking John or maybe Dan.  A ranger would be best in case something is...... down there....
The elven woman seems to shudder at the thought.
I might actually have the best "armor class" of the group, besides John, but if  you'd rather, I'll go last.  we need someone well armored to walk "rear guard" anyway.

Hmmmmm... How about this?
Sarah
John
you
Dan
then me?

Crap.  I feel really stupid to actually suggest I go last.  Kind of like I'm a coward, or something.  I could still go second, if everyone doesn't mind?

"Stop thinking that you're a coward, because you're not." Cassander said with a air of some authority.  An authority that he wasn't sure where it came from.  Must be some Elven thing again.  Whatever it was, the commanding tone was there when she spoke again.  "You're the healer.  You never put the healer in the front of the party.  If we had a second healer then sure go up front but as of right now you're job is to keep the rest of us alive, and that means keeping yourself alive first."

"You're right about John going second.  I'm the squishiest one here so I should be in the middle, protected by you big tough armor wearing types."  Cassander let her tone relax.  Wierd how that happened.  "I'm not sure how you're Bard is set for abilities, Dan, but I think that you should be in the middle of the party with me.  Unless you have a better idea."

"I could really go for a Dew right now, or even a slice of that pizza we were going to order." She looked down at the body she was now in and sighed.  No!  Don't do that.  No sense missing what's gone now.  you're just going to bring the rest of the group down and there's no time for that right now.  Right now you're an Elf sorceress so get over it.

When she spoke again, the commanding tone was back.  "Okay.  Are we all set then?  I can light the way with my Orbs of Light, and Greg has that staff."  She paused for a moment.  "I just thought of something.  Everyone get in close.  I have a spell that should toughen up our armor rating.  I doubt that we'll find anything nasty down there but why take the chance."

Cassander waited until the group had moved closer and then closed her eyes, concentrating on the spell that she wanted to cast.  The energy built up in her and the words of power came easily.  She directed both to everyone in the party, adding an invisible arcane armor to their physical one.  "There.  Anyone else have anything that they want to do?"

Greg nodded with a shy grin, accepting Cassander's declaration almost submissively.
"Where the HELL did that come from?"  She though with a jolt.
Greg had acted as party leader in several D&D games but was never a leader in real life.  Still, she had never felt this strange need to submit to authority that she did now.
"I put Aliana's alignment as neutral good" she thought "so there should be no particular need to bow to authority figures, so what did it mean?"
Perhaps Aliana's back story, written years ago, gave a hint.  The cloistered cleric, having no practical knowledge of the outside  world, would have looked to her party members for guidence.  She had confidence in her abilities, but held others who'd been "in the world" on a pedastal and with a kind of awe.
But....I don't feel that way, do I?


She spoke up, feeling that she wanted to do it as much to please the others, than because she wants to.

Most of my spells that would be useful only last about five minutes (Thank you 3rd edition), so I should probably wait until they're needed.

It's dark down the trapdoor.

There are wooden stairs that lead down that look sturdy enough. As you prepare to climb them, you see a torn piece of white cloth caught on the wood.

The elves can tell that their own kind made it.

Elven-made Greg murmurs, then stops, blinking.

Wait, how did I.....That was  really weird.  In the real world, I wouldn't know silk from polyester, but here...it's like the knowledge is just....poof!....suddenly there.  Like I'm suddenly remembering, quite vividly, some obscure day back in high school where we learned something very specific.   

She shakes her head, her large eyes troubled.
It's kind of like how I know what "spells" I've got "memorized" or obscure things about swordplay or archery that aren't on my character sheet. 

Greg starts to chuckle at her weird musings, but suddenly gets an inquisitive look on her face.
Alright, here's another strange, random thought.   If the "DM" usually runs all the NPCs, does that mean that if we eventually find this princess, that she'll be Chris?

She shrugs, as if to say "sure, it sounds stupid, but it's not as "out there" as everything else, so far.

"That would be very poetic, seeing as how half of us traded genders.  I wonder just how many of the NPC's that we'll meet would be Chris?  He can't possibly be everything in this world." Cassander says as she examines the scrap of cloth.  She was thinking the same as Greg, how they could suddenly tell that the cloth was elven made.  Yet another touch of strangeness to add to the list.

"Hmm.  The stairs look to be in okay condition.  Too bad they spiral downwards, or we could see the bottom, but it looks clear.  Alright let's take this slow and easy.  Keep an eye open for any traps or secret doors." The Elf says to her companions as they get ready to go down the stairs.  She makes a small gesture with her hand and one of her arcane globes floats down the stairs.

Cassander couldn't help a small smile.  This was turning out to be really interesting, awkward and rather fun.

Greg had to almost physically stiffle another onslaught of giggles.
"I wonder how many NPCs will be Chiris?"
Greg was reminded of the movie ""Being John Malcovich."  Where people could enter a doorway and "enter" the mind of the actor John Malcovich.   Then the real John Malcovich tried it and entered his own head.  He entered a world just like the real one, but EVERYONE, every man, woman, and child, had his face.  He left screaming, if Greg recalled correctly.
She pictured Chris as every NPC, from the old begger, the stuffy mayor, and the tavern wench, acting "in character" but as soon as the other NPCs left, he'd (in whatever form he was in) wink and say "You're doing great guys.  By they way, where do you guys want to get pizza from when I order it?", only to magically become the character again when someone else came into earshot.

It was a weird thought, but it kept Greg from shaking in terror at the prospect of what might be down in the dark basement.

Kenjinn notices Greg fly back from trying to open the trapdoor. "Well that was useless" He says and attempts to open it himself. Luckily, since Bards are basically downplayed Thieves, they have experience with opening all sorts of doors.

The trapdoor swings open but he doesn't go down as it is pitch-black. He turns back to the others. "Sure could use that celestial ball of light right about now"

Dan....
Greg tried to make the word sound like one dude telling another dude to calm the frick down, but her melodious elven voice made it sound more like a scolding mother.

This is hard on ALL of us, remember?
Especially those of us who got more changed than our "gee-tar" skills.   Hell, I've lost 6 inches of height and over half my weight,  not to mention a certain body part that I'm REALLY trying not to think about right now, that I was saving for marriage, or at least the next woman who offfered to share it with me.
I know I'm freaking out more then anyone, and I'm sorry.
I tend to freak out with little provocation.  I did it when the camping store I worked at closed down suddenly, throwing us all out into the street, so you KNOW I'm gonna do it now.
But, I think I'm better now.  We all are. 

She sighs.
I can't promise anything, but we'll get OUT of this.  I know we will. 
This message was last edited by the player at 08:11, Mon 20 Apr 2009.

John nods to the other elf "Damn right we will." he said, just to emphasize the point. He had been thinking about the NPCs that the other's mentioned "Honestly I don't think that he'd be the NPCs, if we became our characters how do we know that the NPCs didn't come to a life of our own. I still think that Chris is just the guy controling the envronment at this point. What I want to know is if he has total control, why can't he just 'make' us go back to normal. All I can figure is that there is something stopping him, maybe a rule that says we have to complete this adventer first..."

She looked down the dark tunnel and shook her head "As for the march order. I'm no rouge and I'm better outdoors than tunnels, but I'm a melee fighter, and we elves have low light vision. I should probally go first, with Sarah behind to look for traps. Dan should probally go last just in case something tries to ambush us from behind, then at least Greg and Cassander can keep casting." she looked around at the group, before crouching down near the entrance "Anyone have any objections? We shouldn't just keep jawing when we could get on with this..."

"Sounds good to me." Cassander replied.  She was a little anxious to get going but a proper party order had to be hashed out.  She chuckled once more at party order.  The Elf gestured to the trap door, bowing slightly with one hand out.  "Ladies first." she giggled.

"Lead the way."

Sarah steps behind John, ready to begin a trap sweep...

"Here's hoping that my Search ranks carry over..."

Greg shrugged her slim shoulders.   She prefered her version of the marching order, but decided not to waste time arguing.  It was one of the cardinal rules of D&D (and even real life, presumably), that any reasonable plan, even if not perfect, was generally better than sitting around arguing endlessly.

My "continual light torch" is probably one of the better light sources, so maybe it IS better if I go closer to the middle.  Ok, I'll go fourth, then.  That way I'll still be able to back up Dan should something sneak up on us.

She still shuddered at the thought of some monster lurking in the darkness.
"Knock it off and suck it up, you spineless jackass!!!!!"  she thought furiously at herself.   "Your friends need you.  You have to protect them."  The idea of being brave for the others bolstered Greg a bit.  Her mind went from frozen in a blinding panic to a jittery, adrenaline-fueled buzz, which was something she could work with.

And, Sarah, if you really need it, I do have a "find traps" cleric spell if you REALLY one, but it only lasts five minutes.

Greg tried not to be distracted by all the new information rattling around in her newly blonde head.  This was not the time, dammit!   Information about outdoor survival, religious rites, elven lore.....

Holy Shit!!!!   I can speak Elven now!  Can any of you....
It was an achingly exotic language, sounding a little like the stuff spoken by the "elves" in the Lord of the Rings movies, but sounded like if someone from France taught Tolkien Elven to a Norwegian.
She immediately shakes her head, perhaps a little harder than was needed.
Nope!  Sorry! Forget I said anything!  We can talk about that later.

For someone who took a total of five years of French classes, and to this day remembered about a dozen words, the idea of knowing a foreign language so well was ....  intoxicating.  Greg suddenly remembered that Sister Aliana was supposed to be a language geek, and he's put several extra skill points into more languages...  No!  Like she'd just said, time for that later.....

Cassander waited her turn as John and Sarah started down the stairs.  How cool is this?  I'm actually delving into a dungeon.  She was about to step third in the party but decided that it might be best to let Greg go next.  That way Cassander could keep an eye on the Cleric.

"Stay focussed now, Aliana.  We're all counting on you." she said softly in Elvish as the cleric passed her, using the character name rather than the player name.  There were equal parts concern and command in her voice.  Greg had seemed to get a little distracted from time to time but that might have been part of the Sister Aliana personality leaking through.

Greg felt something click at being called "Aliana" by Cassander.  It was oddly comforting.  Maybe Greg could think about all of this happening to "Sister Aliana" instead of "Greg Stone", which might dull the terror level just a smidge.
"Yes," Greg thought, "I'm Sister Aliana, priestess of Fharlanghn, envoy of the Elven Nation, here to save an Elven princess."   It felt good to kind of let go and ride with the flow.
Ok, Tizona, you can count on me, ma'am. Greg said with an almost shy grin, before turning to go third.
Greg still thought, as the second (or perhaps third) best armed and armored "character" that she should have  gone more to the rear to back up Dan, but 'descending into darkness' was NOT the time to argue.

She held her magic torch aloft with her left hand and her finely crafted sword in her right.  The sword felt like a part of her arm.  It was something else that was weird, but she was grateful of it now.

John nodded as everyone got ready. She was somewhat surprise that she understood everything they said in the elvish tongue but considing all the other skills they had it shouldn't have been that much a surprise. John was still surprising cool under the curcemstances but most of his time not working was spent in daydreams where he was in situations like this one. It helped that Alyissia had a similar attitude to hiself in these brief moments of fantasy, so he just acted like he would in on of those situations. The only real difference being that he was a chick, though if one of his daydreams was about one of his female characters sometime they would come into them. As such this was familiar enough(at least in his own head) to continue so they could get out of this nightmare.

Once everyone appeared ready, she dropped through the trapdoor to the stairs below, with as much grace as an olympic gymnast. As soon as she landed she drew her twin short swords and stepped in one smooth motion. She got out of way so Sarah could follow her down, now was the perfect time for an ambush by any maline creatures in the area, considering she was by herself for a moment all along. She scaned the near darkness, searching for signs of an attack while waiting for the others. She also looked around for any tracks that could lead them to the princess.

Perhaps not suprising to 'veteran' adventurer's such as yourselves, the trapdoor leads into a properly constructed tunnel. The walls are made from stone and at intervals there are burnt out torches along the walls.

The air is cold and dry down here, the only pathway being into the darkness.

Your light does not illuminate until the end of the passage, but far enough to see two shapes moving in the darkness. They stumble forth and it doesn't take any geeky knowledge to know that they are zombies.

Their body's are decaying, but their heads are nothing more than skulls with burning flames for eyes. That sinister insignia is burnt into the bone.

"Identify yourselves" says a voice. It comes from where the zombies are, but it is not from them.

When the creatures come into view, Greg's small mouth hangs open.
Zombies! Real live.....well, REAL walkin' around dead guys!
The sickly skin was glistening in the magical light.  The glowing eyes seemed to
cut into Greg's heart.

Greg's mind seemed to freeze for a moment, then split into the two parts; the intellectual and the emotional.

The intellectual was saying:
Zombies. Maybe I can turn them?  Those glowing eyes probably mean that they aren't normal zombies, so maybe not.  I should think of something "turny" to say.

The emotional was saying:
don't pee yourself.  don't pee yourself.  don't pee yourself.
oh, for the love of GOD!!!!!  do NOT pee yourself.

Cassander squints at the moving shapes, putting her hands on Gregs shoulders and lean close to her.  "What are thos...Are those...Zombies?!"  She says in amazement.

She steps around beside Greg.  "My name is Cass..." Oh right.  I should probably speak in character.  Let's hope these guys are friendly to Elves.  I wonder what Elves taste like?  "I am Tizona, from the Southern Elvish kingdom.  These are my companions.  Who are we addressing?"  Hopefully that sounds okay.

Sarah blinks as the voice echoes down the hallway.

"... magic mouth, maybe?"

Her hands lower to her daggers, gripping the hilts tightly.

Well, great. Greg thought.  The chick dressed like a belly dancer is braver than the one wearing 20 lbs of armor.
Sheathing her sword as subtly and quietly as she could, Greg reaches for her holy symbol of Fharlanghn.
"man!, I hope I can do this"  She thinks, trying to remember she's done in other games when she played clerics and had to....
No.  She wasn't remembering other games, she was remembering....clerical classes at the elven temple to Fharlanghn back in the capitol city.  It had been a small place, The Lord of the Horizon not being as popular among the Folk as with humans, but she'd learned much in the twenty years that she studied with....

Well.....shit..  Greg thought, with wonder.

She shook her head to clear it from memories that were hers and NOT hers, and focused on the situation in front of them.  She waited for "Tizona" to get an answer.
Who made her the spokesperson?
Oh, yeah.  By not saying anything, Greg supposed she did.

"You are addressing the Cult of the New World" the voice replies "With the goal to open a portal from this world to another, where we shall rule"

Then the voice sneers "But although who you seek is part of our plans, you are not. Prepare to die!"

The zombies stagger forward without another word.