I rather liked this bit of scene-ification from the other game and I thought to preserve it. We can refer back to it, or not... but it will still live on none-the-less...

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Gamemaster
The skinny man tried once more to push the cellar door open. He grunted and huffed, but it would not budge. "Bloody hell! The bugger won't budge!" His voice whined slightly as he verbalized his complaint.

The small group of survivors had hunkered down in the wine cellar behind the bar when the roof had exploded in flame. It was so sudden, the survivors were amazed that they even had the wits about them to get in the cellar.

It had been two days ago when it all happened. First shouts, then strangely moving figures in black robes moving passed the Toad's big window, and then...BOOOOOOM! The place was a light in seconds. Bodies were incenerated in ghastly speed and fashion. The window was blown out, and only moments later the first beams in the roof fell in. A mad rush of the survivors to the barkeeps call was all that saved them. He herded them below, only to be crushed by the roof's collapse onto the cellar door.

Now a several people sat together on barrels or leaning on wine shelves. They were hungry and getting anxious that no one would come to help them. Morbid thoughts ran through each mind as they envision just what might come about if no one came.



Bodric Battlebelly
At first, the survivors had lit the cellar's oil lantern. It had burned until the smell became strong enough to alarm them. Thinking that they were using up all their air, someone snuffed the lantern out. An argument ensued wherein the voice of a dwarf seemed to win out when he said he could feel a draft and that nobody was going to suffocate. That's when someone remembered the cellar was vented to prevent mold and rot. Crisis averted, they resumed their grumbling, complaining and efforts to figure a way out.

The oil in the lamp was down past a third remaining and it was agreed that it should only be re-lit when someone could justify (with the others' consent of course) the action. At least once an hour someone would question how long they'd been down here. The dwarf, whose eyes had adjusted to the darkness, realized that there was just a bit of light filtering down the vent. By it, he found that he could gage day and night at least. The darkness did not bother him, but it was unnerving to at least someone who kept pleading for the lantern to be re-lit.

The dwarf had tried several times at the cellar door, but it was no use, something very heavy was blocking in shut. He guessed it was likely part of the structure of the building. Out of ideas, he sat in a corner and whittled at a broken piece of the shelving.

"'Bout time fer another apple ain't it?" he asked, breaking the silence. They had been taking turns listening at the vent tube for signs of life outside the inn. "How many'er left?" Unlike the others, he had not been drinking any of the wine and could feel himself growing dehydrated.


Korak
The novelty of wine was appearing to run out. No longer did the half-orc look at the shelves and barrels with appeal. True, his anatomy did not agree too well with the elixir, with slight hallucinations jumping about his eyes, but the taste was enhanced and Korak spent the first day of his accidental incarceration smacking his lips and listening to the tussle of wine bottles.

"After all, he won't be using it anymore!" Korak grumbled in a haze, knowing the bartender had been crushed by the collapsing Toad. "If the place might have been called the Prancing butterfly he might have survived!" he said amusing himself.

The dwarf, with their valuable knowledge of structures and other built things, no doubt discovered that while they were trapped it would be difficult to run out of air. That in a sense was good, Korak mused resting his mighty frame on a barrel. But still he could not shake the feeling that they were all within the walls of a prison, mayhap an accidental prison but one nonetheless.

His kind, both human and orc and there were times that Korak could not separate one from the other, detested a lack of freedom. His entire clan, 6 siblings, under the command of T'Lor, his orcan father, ran the plains and forests of the north without a care of any borders. This, on the other hand was different. There was no doubt that sooner or later the orc would want out of this hole in the world.

Nonetheless a whole fashioned very well with bottles and barrel's of mind's bane, the orcan name for wine. Behold a Gregor's Shine, haven't seen one of these in some time, his surmised, popping a thick cork with a wide angular thumb.


Bodric Battlebelly
The dwarf watched in the darkness as his half-orc cellmate continued to guzzle the tavern's supply of alcohol. "Maybe I already be dead," he grumbled. "Stuck in a tiny Hell made miserable by the smell of spirits and the stench of a drunken orc..." He got back to his feet and readjusted his worn armor around his large belly. If the door wouldn't open out, like it was supposed to, then maybe he could take it apart from the inside.

"Hey orc! Gimme yer weapon. I got me an idea!" He wasn't about to ruin his own weapons by using them as tools... better to use those of a half-breed.


Agelia Redstart
Agelia spent her initial time underground tending to whatever wounds were present on survivors.  When she was confident nobody would die of wounds, she quieted down, barely speaking unless she was asked something.  It was less despair that kept her silent, and more a lack of anything to say.  She knew what was in store for her when she died; whether or not the others in the cellar did, well, not really her problem, but she did offer occasional comfort - such as it was - when somebody needed it.

The only thing that upset the priestess, was the lack of her favorite spirits!  Or, well, apparent lack.  It sure would have been nice to die with potato water warming her belly...

Then the dwarf, who called himself Bodric, requested the half-orc's weapon.  Agelia looked from Bodric, to Korak, and muttered to herself, "This can only end well..." she folded her arms across her chest and waited to see what would happen.  Who knew, maybe the dwarf had an idea?


Korak
Korak's head spun toward the sound of the dwarf's words. The darkness only revealed his short shadows. "The only way I give you this axe is by splitting your skull, dwarf!" Korak noticed the glint of steel around the dwarf. " Ye got your toys, but if there is something you need cleaved, my lineage's blade may aid you."


Bodric Battlebelly
"Oh, looky here will ya? It can speak. I even understood what you was sayin'!" The dwarf didn't blame him for not handing over his axe - he sure wouldn't have ever given his to an orc, that's for sure!  "Not yer axe, ya slosh-headed fool! Gimme yer dagger. Mine's to narrow. I'm gonna pry on some of these here boards what's hidin' the hinges. Then ya can use yer axe on it. Come on hand it here I ain't gonna hurt it none."

He'd thanked the woman sitting in the dark for her healing after the collapse. At that time he hadn't felt like talking much, but now that he had an idea he had cheered up considerably. After all, anything was better than sitting in a dark cellar with an orc he couldn't just kill and be done with. Although fighting in these cramped quarters against a large-ish foe who'd been drinking for two days straight did give the dwarf an advantage...

"How 'bout you missy? You ain't got a prybar in yer purse do ya?" He grinned at her to let her know he was just trying to lighten the mood, but then he realized she probably couldn't see in the dark. "Uh.. never mind," he stammered, unable to think of a good way to recover.


Durgon Oroth
Durgon sat quietly for most of the time he had been trapped in the dark. At first he thought someone would find them soon.  Then the hours started to stretch into days.

Durgon started to realize the reality of the situation and meditated constantly trying to get a divine answer from his Lady Autumn.

When he heard the others bantering at each other he saw a glimmer of hope in his mind.  The hunger and stench of the last few days were starting to wear on him and the sooner they could get out the better in his mind.

He stood, stretched and moved himself out of the way and listened for the plan to take action.


Korak
Korak coughed, spat at the taunting the dwarf tried to give him, making sound like he was actually helping. "Yer telling me you, a dwarf, donna have some sort of magical metaling that will open locks and reveal treasure and make the room fill with gemstones. The Barbarian lifted one of his four daggers from his belt, trying to fight the impulse not to impale the little one where he sat.

He looked about, everyone was getting too damn comfortable with their lives here in this pit. There was a world out there, a mighty world, a rich world with far too many treasures hidden away for it to spend alone. It was time to do something about that.

Moving his massive frame away from his barrel thrown, Korak adjusted his leather armor and moved toward the dwarf. His large head, slooped under the rafters. "Here's yer dagger, now go pry us out of here. Never met a dwarven thief before...


Bodric Battlebelly
"Bah!" was the dwarf's reply as he reached to take the dagger. He grimaced to hold it, luckily there was enough booze down here to wash off the smell and sterilize his hand when he was finished.

He began to work his way down the door jam carefully prying a bit at a time. He wasn't so much worried about the half-orc's dagger (which he grudgingly had to admit was made of fairly decent steel) as he was about ruining his leverage. Slow and steady with the patience of dwarven craftsmen...

Korak:
...Never met a dwarven thief before...

The brute barely made it off the barrel he'd been sitting on. He didn't so much dismount, rather he was bucked off of it... The dwarf paused a moment to answer, leaning toward the half-orc. "Aye, but I've never met me an orc yet that wasn't!" He kicked a bit of trash in the brute's direction and went back to work.

"Ya gettin' mad yet orc? Bet ya wanna bash my head in with yer precious axe huh? Well if ya can wobble yer way over here, ya can take a few swings at the next best thing... these hinges!" The dwarf finished with his task of removing the stubborn oak door jam (Why did they have to build it so blasted strong? It's not like it was ever locked anyways.) and yanked it out of the way.

"Missy, fire up yer lantern if ya would. We wouldn't want the drunken orc princess here to miss the hinges and hit one of us innocents!"

The dwarf stepped back out of the way and stood protectively near the woman. "Yer Majesty," he said to the huge half-orc as he bowed mockingly and gestured toward the door frame, "see if ya can hit the hinges, and don't go berserkin' down here... there ain't room."


Agelia Redstart
Agelia stared in the direction of the dwarf's voice, following his question.  She made a couple of mental notes regarding him.

Then, when light was requested, she answered by lighting one of her torches.  Stepping a bit closer to the door to provide adequate illumination, she said to the dwarf, "You ought to be a public speaker."  Then, she turned to the half-orc, "Let me know if you need me to adjust this, at all...so as to provide better lighting, if need be."


Durgon Oroth
After the light brightens the room a bit Durgon takes a few seconds to let his eyes adjust.  The exchanges between the dwarf and orc have began to wear on his nerves a bit and he can't help but to think that this plan better work or there may be no need for a rescue as if they don't tear each other apart the rest of us may. "Enough talk, get on with it already and get us out of here the sound of both of you is enough to drive us all mad. I can't even pray properly" he says as he clutched his holy symbol.


Korak
Korak looked back at the comment but ignored it. Hunched over watching the dwarf work. For all the traditional taunts that orcs had for dwarfs, he always found those little people interesting, the way they worked, like bees after you cleave the hive. Korak watched the dwarf work with a stern face, trying not to reveal that there may actually be admiration there.


Bodric Battlebelly
The dwarf waited to see if the brute was going to take a swing or not before he made any more jabs. He was intentionally trying to get him worked up so that the bulging muscles would be fueled by anger. The trick was not to push too far or they would have a serious problem on their hands. After a moment the dwarf piped up again, "Well? Ya gonna swing that axe Princess or should we have Missy here give ya a lesson on it? Oh ya, here's yer dagger back.." He passed it back by the blade and everyone noticed that the dwarf didn't wipe his hands off afterall.


Gamemaster
You hear the sound of booted footfalls above you. Scraping sounds are accompanied by the sound of shifting debris.


Korak
Unsure if it was the dwarf's taunts or the sound of shifting debris, Korak unhinges his axe from back in one fluid motion and grips it with the other hand. With a 'hhhhmf' that sounds more bull than humanoid, the half-orc attempts to slam into what Bodric was trying to unhinge.

OOC Not sure if I needed a roll, but dang... Korak rolled 24 using 1d20+4 ((20)). YE GODS a 20!


Agelia Redstart
Agelia perks up an eyebrow at hearing the other noises -- not those made by the demi-humans, but those that seemed to have come from the other side of the door.


Gamemaster
The door shatters into several pieces and then a mountain of debries pours in down the shoddy stairs. Only seconds later a heavy beam slides end first into the stairs, shattering them. The dwarf and half-orc are sent tumbling to the ground.

Roll under dexterity to avoid being pinned by the beam!


Agelia Redstart
"WHOA!" Agelia cries out.  Despite things, she waits for the rubble to stop falling, and then rushes to the aid of the dwarf and half-orc.


Durgon Oroth
"Watch it!" Durgon cried as he stepped back from the sliding debris. He checks himself for any wounds and then also lends a hand and a prayer to any injured.


Bodric Battlebelly
OOC:Bodric Battlebelly rolled 2 using 1d20 ((2)) Dex Check.

Some sixth sense warned the dwarf that the blow might trigger a collapse. Looking back, maybe sitting around a table swapping tales of adventure or shivering atop cold battlements trying to stay awake, he would never be able to define exactly what it was that caused him to act. He was moving just an instant before he heard the twin warnings of the other two souls trapped along with himself and the half-orc in the cellar. The other action for which he would never know the compelling factor of, was that he lunged at the half-orc, trying to knock him out of the way of the collapse.

"CAVE-IN!" he bellowed, slamming into the half-orc who had just given the most tremendous and accurate blow the dwarf had ever seen from a drunk of any race. Later on, he would shudder to think that had he pushed the half-orc too far, that blow might have been aimed at himself!

OOC: Trying to knock Korak out of the way...


Korak
The satisfaction of the door splintering. Korak did enjoy splintering things, and knocking them down. But causing cave-ins that was another matter. Perhaps not as fast as his brethren in the tribe, at times the smashing of things, the sundering of solids gave Korak a certain fascination beyond what he could consciously control. Even as he hit the ground after the sundering he seemed to float in a strange place. The dwarf beside him seemed to bolt into action. Korak actually felt a bit giddy watching the beam slam into the stairs, a wondrous powerful sight. Since he was born his kind were obsessed with power and strength. And in the last few hours he saw more than his fair share.

He gripped the axe at his side, the leather about the handle warm and a bit wert to the touch. It comforted him, knowing full well that the presence of his father was him. All was well, for that one fleeting moment.


Gamemaster
Korak is slammed by the falling beam, but is thrown clear of being pinned by Bodric. Bodric lands awkwardly on top of the big half-orc. A large welp crowns Koraks head, and oozes slimy blood down over his left eye.

After a few moments of loud settling of debris, the denizens of the cellar can see a white beam of light shooting in through the trapdoor in the ceiling.

Sorry, Korak, that's 5 points of damage to you!


Bodric Battlebelly
Bodric shook his head to clear the dancing stars away and suddenly realized he was laying on top of the half-orc... "GAHHH!" he bellowed and rolled off quickly. That's when he noticed the improved light within the cellar for the indescribable shades of his dwarven vision had diminished. He pushed himself up to his feet and coughed through the dust.

"Ha! Will ya look at that!  Not bad for a drunken half-orc princess! Not bad at all!" The dwarf reached his hand down to help the brute to his feet and despite his bluster and genetic hatred toward his kind, the dwarf held a new respect for this particular one. He noticed that there was a nasty bump and cut on the brute's head, but it was probably nothing worse than what he had gotten when he'd dropped to the rocky ground from his mother's womb.

"Rub some dirt in that Princess and let's get to work!" he said, his energy renewed after days trapped underground.  "Ya alright Missy? How 'bout the preacher? Ya okay?"

He clapped his hands together excitedly and began to clear the remaining debris blocking their exit. He suddenly stopped and turned to the others.

"Bodric be my name and I'm at yer service... even yers ya filthy brute! What do ya call yerself anyways?" He bowed to each of them although towards the half-orc was a half-bow... he didn't want anyone to think he'd gone soft.


Durgon Oroth
"Well at least the door is open" Durgon chuckled after realizing everyone seemed alive and somewhat ok. "That was one hard swing for sure.  Now to get out of here" He offered a silent prayer of thanks and then started to clear the debris.
This message was last updated by the GM at 06:31, Thu 26 Sept 2013.