The party follows the ladder down into a 20 foot by 20 foot room, with a door to the south.

<This can be found on the provided map, listed as "Map for group 4", in the southwest, room with the ladder.>

The dwarf's demeanor had improved considerably after the discovery in the room where they'd found the deadly shadows. He'd been smiling beneath his sun-bleached whiskers and his shuffling step down the stone halls had an extra half-beat every so often. The only thing that would cheer him more would be to find water, and now that they were headed further downward... that likelihood increased as well.

"...and then that sand crab jumped to the side," he was relating one of his favorite tales about his favorite character, which just happened to be himself, "but that's just about what I'd planned for and my swing was only a feint. Step, slide, swish and my warhammer cracked right into the creature's shell! We at crab for a week! Ha! Hrrumph!"

Taking a breather in his storytelling, the dwarf looked briefly around the room.

Silverglade listens at the door, hoping to hear something over the continuous ramblings of the dwarf.

Roak, following Albricht down, may have kicked Albricht at the end of his story. Maybe it was an accident.

He hops down and waits to see what Silverglade hears.

While it's quite sure that anyone or anything capable of hearing that was on the other side of the door would have(in Silverglade's opinion, at least) heard the dwarf's ramblings, the elf detects no sounds or movement (or light, for that matter) from beyond the door.

Voran nods. "My friends, time to open the door, I think. Good elves, would one of you do the honors?"

He brandishes his mace and waits a good 15' from the door.

When everyone is ready, Silverglade flings open the door while leaping back and readying his sword and shield.

"Dwarves with crabs - who would have thought..."

Lanliss readied his sword as Silverglade opened the door.

Roak stands ready...

The door opens to show a room that contains a bed, a table, a chair, a lantern, and a wooden holy symbol of two intertwined snakes (the holy symbol of Usamigaras).  The furniture is made of wood. A hooded white robe is draped over the chair.  Except for the furniture and the robe, the room appears to be empty.  There is a door to the south.

Trying not to look stupid after his huge leap back from an empty room, Silverglade cautiously advances, sword still ready just in case.

Sherborne follows closely with his mace at the ready.
This message was last edited by the player at 15:26, Fri 30 June 2017.

Roak nods to the robe. "Hey, Voran, why don't you put that on? Maybe it's magical or soemething."

Voran shrugs and puts the robe on.

Elder Voran feels the touch of a foreign mind on his, and a struggle for control ensues.

<Make me a save versus Dragon Breath, Voran.>

Albricht eyed their new cleric strangely, human religions being strange and all that. He simply shrugged and snorted and began a circuit around the room since nobody seemed interested in the exciting conclusion to his narrative... He did however keep a firm grip on his warhammer, just in case Voran had some sort of breakdown.

He glanced about for any hidden passages, even looking under the bed!

Voran feels a mind trying to claw its way past his and utters a silent prayer to Law--and the forces of Law answer, preserving his mind!!

Just made it! Needed 16+, rolled a 16.
21:32, Today: Elder Voran rolled 16 using 1d20.  Save. vs. Dragon Breath.

Elder Voran, with an internal push of rock-hard will, shrugs off the invasion on the foreign mind.  He feels it recoil for a moment, then he internally hears a soft-yet-firm voice say, "I'm sorry for the intrusion, brother.  My name is Demetrius, a priest of Usamigaras.  I have been imprisoned in this cloak since my death, unable to move on, murdered by my own brother.  I can see that you are a good man, as well as a man of the cloth, and I beg both your forgiveness and your assistance in ridding the world of the evil that my brother became, both to free me, and to help stop the rise of the evil that is his unholy god Zargon."

Elder Voran gets a sense that the voice then pauses, awaiting a response.
This message was last edited by the GM at 03:12, Sun 02 July 2017.

Voran blinks and then nods. Out loud, he says, "Friends, hold. Something interesting is afoot."

He then thinks to the voice, "If you be a servant of Law and an enemy of Zargon, then I am willing to hear your plea. Speak on.

The response that Elder Voran receives comes immediately: "You are most wise to ask, and yes, I was and am a servant of Law.  My brother yet lives, and he is not far from here, on this tier of the top of the world.  I can assist with the spells and personal fortitude granted to me by Usamigaras the Great, and with directions to items that will likely help you and your companions in this task.  Once Darius, my brother, has been defeated, I will pass on."
This message was last edited by the GM at 17:32, Sun 02 July 2017.

Voran considers for a long minute and then nods. He turns to the party. "The robe, interestingly, has the remnant of a soul with it. He has offered to aid us against the servants of Zargon. Don't be alarmed when something odd happens." He then thinks, I accept your help. Proceed.
This message was last edited by the player at 19:41, Sun 02 July 2017.

"Ya mean like a bunch of shadows might suddenly appear and try to kill us? Hrrumph!" Albricht just shook his head. He'd suspected some time back that this cleric was probably touched in some fashion, and now it was confirmed as he was having a conversation with clothing. Grumbling to himself and shaking his head, the dwarf continued his search of the room.

"An enemy of Zargon is an ally of ours. Any advice and direction offered is to be accepted - with some due caution, naturally."

Lanliss thought this sounded like a boon, but he also hoped it was not too good to be true. He would be watching Voran in any case, to make certain the cleric was alright.

With his acceptance, Elder Voran feel himself gently pulled toward the western part of the north wall of the room, where he quickly locates the catch for a secret door, right under the nose of Albricht.  When the door is opened, a slight breeze stirs in the room.  A large, padlocked wooden chest sits near the north wall, and behind it is a huge tapestry of a desert scene.

Demetrius' internal voice provides a caution, "Note how the tapestry did not move when the breeze passed through.  It is a creature that mimics the look of the tapestry, and it has been set to guard this room.  We must be swift to drag the chest out of the room before it can spring."

Voran nods wordlessly and then turns to the party. "My friends, listen.  Note how the tapestry did not move when the breeze passed through.  It is a creature that mimics the look of the tapestry, and it has been set to guard this room.  We must be swift to drag the chest out of the room before it can spring. Who among us is quick enough to do so?"

Roak grunts. "I can with some help. Lanliss? Silverglade? You guys seem fast enough. Shall we? We grab the thing quickly and then Albricht closes the door."

After getting nods from the other three, Roak, Lanliss, and Silverglade launch themselves forward, grab the chest, and swiftly drag it out of the room.  The creature disguised as the tapestry is just starting to move as they exit the room and Albricht slams the door shut.

On examination, the chest seems to be locked.

Internally, Elder Voran hears, "Alas, the key is most likely lost, but the chest is not further warded against intrusion.  I must admit that I didn't have a plan for getting into it once we got it out of the concealed room."

Voran points out that his unseen friend does not have the key. He thinks, Is there anything fragile in the chest? We could always break it open.

"Hard to say but it would be a shame to break any helpful liquids.  On the other hand if there is no other way to get the chest open such things do us the same amount of good broken or loccked away." Sherborne holds his mace and looks at his hammer wondering if there is a way to break the check open without too much risk.

Silverglade urges nobody to hit the chest. "Let Vsaati try to pick the lock," he says.

Just before Vsaati steps forward to try her hand on the lock, Elder Voran hears, "Yes.  There is a potion vial inside."

20:16, Today: Dungeon Master, on behalf of Vsaati, rolled 76 using 1d100.  Open Locks.

After several minutes of trying, Vsaati sighs and steps away, taking her tools with her.  "Sorry guys, I can't open it."

Voran sighs. "There is a glass vial inside. Either we have to find the key or we smash it open and risk breaking the vial. What do you all say?"

Albricht nudged Roak. "Ye've got small hands lad, why don't you give it a go?"

He got down with many a grunt and popping of aged joints to take a look at how he might go about simply dismantling the chest rather than crushing it open with his warhammer. From his pack he pulled out a hammer and an iron spike and made an attempt at shearing one of the hinges without causing too much disturbance to the valuables inside.

Roak rolls his eyes. "Everyone assumes all halflings are sneak thieves. I'm a warrior, thanks. The most I could do is pry bits of the thing apart, which I suppose we could try."

"Hrrrumph!" Which, as everyone who'd ever been around a dwarf would know, could be taken a number of ways. But in this case, with respect to Roak, it was a mixture of skepticism and appreciation of a decent jest.

"You are pretty sneaky and you do have little hands." He opted to just leave it at that.

Albricht figures that he can most likely shear the hinges and hasp, if given enough time, but a careful job of it might take a couple of hours.

Seeing what Albricht is doing, Vsaati pushes her way back up to the chest and gives it another go.

07:23, Today: Dungeon Master, on behalf of Vsaati, rolled 28 using 1d100.  Open Locks.

After several minutes she steps back for a moment, swears mildly, and bends herself to the task again.

07:23, Today: Dungeon Master, on behalf of Vsaati, rolled 82 using 1d100.  Open Locks.

A few minutes later, the lock opens with an audible click.  Vsaati seems quite satisfied and steps back with a flourish, gesturing to the now unlocked chest.
This message was last edited by the GM at 14:26, Wed 05 July 2017.

"Or Vsaati could just try again," Voran says with a smirk. When Vsaati is done, he moves up to the chest to see what's inside.

"Aye lass, I knew you could do it all along... nothing like a bit of competition to bring out the best in us all. Hrrrumph."

"Now then, I've got something to bring up. I really don't like the idea of some critter that can look like something it's not, being left behind us. I've got a bad feeling that we'll end up getting bitten in the tail whiskers if we leave without poking some holes in it... Not sure how we'll go about it, but its better not not end up being sorry for something that we could have previously been safe with..."

That last saying didn't really translate well, or perhaps the sun-addled water-finder botched it on his own. He scratched absently at his "tail whiskers" hoping the rest of his party got the point.

<Does anyone care to open the chest?>

Silverglade opens the chest and investigates its contents.

Continuing his tangle of wheretofores, priorthens, and hithersoevers, Albricht did find himself eagerly peering over Silverglade's shoulder as the chest was opened.

"If we ever find the city those tall warrior-women said were down here somewhere, I imagine we'll have some buying power!"

Glancing awkwardly over at Voran, the dwarf asked, "Do you know anything about a city down hereabouts? Lost or otherwise?" Albricht was clearly uncomfortable talking to someone who was occupying someone else. It was just... unnatural.

"Are we just going to leave the tapestry unkilled?  That seems kind of sloppy."

Silverglade doesn't glance up from opening the chest. "Aren't tapestries flammable? A bit of oil and a flame should take care of it."

Voran shakes his head. "I don't think it's that easy. it's not really a tapestry. It's something that disguises itself to look like a tapestry. I don't see the need to trouble ourselves with killing it."

He then glances over to see what Silverglade finds in the trunk.

Silverglade searches through the chest and finds the previously noted potion vial, 3000 EP, 5000 GP, a suit of extremely well-made and rust free chainmial, and a finely-wrought dagger with a jeweled hilt in a jeweled sheath.

Elder Voran hears the internal voice advise him, "Both the armor and the dagger are enchanted, and the potion will cause the drinker to vanish from mortal sight for a time. I will have nor further need of them when my brother has been put to rest."

Elder nods to the chainmail. "Good news! This is magical, as is the dagger, and the potion grants the user invisibility. The money is ours to keep. Let's bag it and then get moving."

Albricht's eyes brightened considerably at the sight of the coins! He ran his hand over the chainmail and whistled lowly between the large gap in his front teeth.

"This is good work. Looks like it's been well cared for!"

As to the tapestry, the dwarf responded, "well, I don't like the idea of leaving something that can be anything behind us. If we don't kill it, then we'd better make sure to wedge that door shut so it can't get out!"

"The dagger should make a good weapon for one of us who doesn't have a magic weapon," points out Silverglade. He turns to Voran. "Does your friend know how good the mail is? Would it be worth giving up plate for?"

Voran strokes his chin. "Though it is magical, it would not offer the same protection as plate mail. We should perhaps take it with us and use it to trade with someone later."

Roak looks around the area and comes back to the others. "I think we should take a breather, fellows. I'll take first watch."

Silverglade agrees and settles down to sleep, keen to regain his spell.

"I shall take the last watch, and memorise my spell as everyone else rises. Normally I would prefer chainmail over plate, but for now I'll stick with my extra protection."

Lanliss immediately brings out his blanket and prepares to rest up.

"Hrrrumph!" Albricht voiced his disagreement to allowing the strange creature to continue living. "I'm riggin' the door. I don't want something breaking out of there to eat me in my sleep."

The dwarf rigged the door so that if it opened, noise would be made. As the others relaxed and mumbled at their spellbooks and prayer scrolls, the old water-finder prepared some magic of his own by propping up his weary head and resting his tired old body. A fight loomed with the brother of the odd ghost, or whatever had entered Voran. Albricht would dazzle when the time came.

Sherborne settles down with the rest hoping for undisturbed peace.

The rest period passes uneventfully, and the party waken feeling greatly refreshed and far more ready to deal with the perils of the pyramid.

Voran stands, smiling. "By gum, I think I'm feeling somewhat blessed today. Well, shall one of our excellent elves be willing to open that door to the south for us?"

Silverglade listens at the door in question, wondering why he didn't do that last night before going to sleep.

Silverglade listens carefully, but only just catches the sound of something brushing over the floor, and a deep yet quiet popping sound.

Roak frowns when Silverglade explains this. "I don't like the sound of that at all. We probably need to be really careful."

Silverglade picks up the magic dagger, since nobody else seems to want it. Then he nocks an arrow and takes aim at the door, ready for what may come.

"Everyone ready? I'll open the door..."

Sword in hand, spell mentally prepared in his mind, Lanliss opens the door and steps away...

Voran nods and braces himself for whatever is inside...

Roak nocks an arrow and braces for whatever is behind the door...

Albricht readied his crossbow again, wondering what sinister foe which might lurk on the other side of the door...

The door opens to reveal a room that appears to be an abandoned kitchen and dining room combination.  The cupboards, table, and chairs are covered with a thin layer of dust.  Near the table, two large snakes with brown and yellow scales are coiled about the body of a woman wearing a rabbit mask.  There is a door directly across the room from this one, which is closed.

At the moment, the snakes seem wholly involved with the body that they are wrapped around.

Deciding to take advantage of the element of surprise, Silverglade leaps forward, drawing his sword as he runs, hoping to behead one of the snakes.

Roak steps into the room and shoots a snake!

Move in, hit AC 2 for 2 damage. :-)
22:15, Today: Roak The Quick rolled 2 using 1d6+1.  Damage!
22:15, Today: Roak The Quick rolled 17 using 1d20+1.  Shoot a snake!

Voran springs into the room, sling in hand and whips a sling-stone at the wounded snake!

Hit AC 4 for 3 damage with my sling.
13:00, Today: Elder Voran rolled 3 using 1d4+1.  Damage.
13:00, Today: Elder Voran rolled 15 using 1d20+1.  Attack with sling.
This message was last edited by the player at 17:02, Mon 17 July 2017.

<Roak has it right.  Give me attack and damage rolls.>

Roak's hit, while not mortal, does some damage to one of the two snakes.

Deciding that snakes tend to be poisonous and thus are not to be treated lightly, Lanliss opts to blast the one Roak has stupidly valiantly attacked with one of his two Magic Missile spells.

15:10, Today: Lanliss rolled 6 using 1d6+1.  magic missile.

The younger humans and elves all began to scramble at the sight a few large snakes! It was only due to the uncanny skill of the grizzled veteran dwarf that he was able to lace a crossbow bolt through the ruckus. Taking careful aim, Albricht ricocheted his shot between the legs of Voran and into one of the snakes! Unfortunately, skipping it off the floor must have dulled the arrowhead a bit, for it didn't seem to do much upon impact.

"Bah! Hrrrumph!" he bellowed, drawing his warhammer and preparing for a more hands-on approach!

Attack: Hit AC0  Damage: 1

Elder Voran and Albricht both add to the mounting damage on one of the two snakes.  It's starting to look a bit messed up, and will not survive many more hits like those that it has taken.

Elboc chuckles a bit at the rather poor swing by Albricht, makes a biting comment, and drops an arrow shaft into the already-injured giant snake.

07:18, Today: Dungeon Master, on behalf of Elboc Ice Eyes, rolled 13 using 1d20.  Attack Roll.
07:18, Today: Dungeon Master, on behalf of Elboc Ice Eyes, rolled 6 using 1d6.  Weapon Damage.

Inspired, Sherborne launches a sling stone, doing less damage on impact, but leaving the creature nearing death.

07:22, Today: Dungeon Master, on behalf of Sherborne, rolled 20 using 1d20+1.  Attack Roll.
07:23, Today: Dungeon Master, on behalf of Sherborne, rolled 2 using 1d4+1.  Weapon Damage.

Vsaati's own sling stone goes wide.

07:24, Today: Dungeon Master, on behalf of Vsaati, rolled 6 using 1d20+3.  Attack Roll.

<Silverglade, I'll need an attack (and hopefully a damage) roll from you, then we'll start the first normal round of combat.>
This message was last edited by the GM at 14:26, Tue 18 July 2017.

Silverglade dashes in, but gives a decidedly weak blow when he finds himself staring into the eyes of one of the snakes.

22:36, Today: Silverglade rolled 3 using 1d8+1. Damage (sword). 22:35, Today: Silverglade rolled 13 using 1d20+1. Attack roll (sword).
This message was last edited by the player at 21:37, Tue 18 July 2017.

Silverglade's blow finishes cutting the first snake in two.  Having so thoroughly surprised the snakes, the party manages to get another series of swings in before the remaining snake can react.

20:56, Today: Dungeon Master rolled 4 using 1d6.  Monster's Initiative.
20:56, Today: Dungeon Master rolled 6 using 1d6.  Party's Initiative.

These looked like some tough snakes, tough as Old Boots, which was what Lanliss considered a suitable nickname for Albricht. In any event he stepped forward and attacked the remaining snake with his sword, landing a mighty blow that made the beast hiss long and loud in agonising pain.


14:42, Today: Lanliss rolled 16 using 1d20+4.  attack roll, sword.
14:42, Today: Lanliss rolled 10 using 1d8+4.  dmg.

Lanliss' blow is stunning in its force and fury, doing a massive amount of damage to the remaining snake, but not nearly enough to kill the tough creature.

Roak, for his part pulls out a dagger and throws it at the snake's neck...

Switching ranged weapons, hit AC 4 for 5 damage.

11:25, Today: Roak The Quick rolled 5 using 1d4+2.  Damage.
11:25, Today: Roak The Quick rolled 15 using 1d20+2.  Fling dagger at snake.

Voran tries to contribute another hit but his rock flies wide.

Miss with sling.
11:26, Today: Elder Voran rolled 3 using 1d20+1.  Sling at snake.

Albricht tried to worm his way through the menagerie in order to land a strike on the serpent. He felt his whiskers bristle as one of the stumble-footed elves stepped on his sandaled foot just as Voran's stone glanced off his iron helm!

"Bah! Make some room you pointy-eared, snake-stealing, leaf eaters!"

It was no use, after the brief rest, the other melee fighters were too invigorated to give Albricht the space he needed for a decent Four-Corners^TM hammer maneuver, and so his weapon simply took a chip out of the floor and sent jolts through his arthritic wrists.

Attack, Damage: Albricht Burghammer rolled 4,3

Silverglade sees the snake writhing in pain after Lanliss's wicked stroke. With expert timing, he thrusts his own sword deep into the creature's face, damaging it cruelly.

22:28, Today: Silverglade rolled 9 using 1d8+1. Damage (sword).
22:28, Today: Silverglade rolled 16 using 1d20+1. Attack roll (sword).

Sherborne continues with the sling attack but isn't quite so accurate this time.


22:45, Today: Sherborne rolled 5 using 1d4+1.  damage.
22:45, Today: Sherborne rolled 9 using 1d20+1.  sling attack on snake.  Hit AC9

Despite the general difficulties in hitting the remaining snake, Roak and Silverglade finish it off.

As the snake's body relaxes and falls away from what is revealed to be a woman's body, party members notice a particularly sparkly necklace around her neck, a small satchel at her side, and a water bottle on a thong that is also around her neck.
This message was last edited by the GM at 05:53, Thu 20 July 2017.

"'Tis a pity we were too late to save this fair maiden from her terrible fate, but alas the world is a cruel place sometimes.

Having said all that...let's loot her corpse!"

Grinning in a rather too-excited manner Lanliss does not actually make a move to search the body, leaving that for others. For whatever reason.

Albricht sighed and dropped his warhammer back into the loop on his worn and cracked leather belt. He looked upon the gruesome scene and though his old, water-starved heart was hardened from countless centuries of hardship and catastrophe, he knew well the dangers of lost places in this vast desert.

To Lanliss he merely snorted as he approached the body and began to examine it.

"What's with the rabbit mask?" he asked. "We haven't seen that before down here have we? In fact, there aren't even any rabbits within a couple hundred leagues of this place..."

He held up the container of water with a triumphant grin as it shook in his gnarled and slightly palsied hand. "Ha-ha! Hrrumph!"

The dwarf rummaged through the satchel at her side as he deftly removed the necklace.

"S'pose she won't be needing that anymore..." he grunted, tossing it to Roak. "Wake up lad! Treasure!"

Roak grabs it and nods. "For safe keeping. Voran, Sherborne, what shall we do with the body?"

Voran scratches his chin while retrieving one of his sling-stones. "Well, let's see..."

He looks around to see what he or Sherborne can use to cover the body so they can lay the woman to rest.

"Aherrmm..." Albricht shuffled a bit as he cleared his throat. "There is that tapestry in the other room... Just... uh... tossing that out there... Hrrumph."

The grizzled old dwarf notes that the bottle sloshes pleasantly, and seems quite full, and that her satchel has a few meals worth of food in it.

"Take a drink lads, pass it around..." Albricht said to his companions, handing them the water container. "I'm feeling confident that water is near." When everyone had whet their whistlers, he stowed the water safely away and drew the woman's satchel over his head, adjusting it to hang far back over his hip.

"I say we let her lead the way back and see what happens when the tapestry tries to eat her. Maybe we can ambush it then! Otherwise she's gonna do nothing but dry out down here and attract more of them fire beetles! Hrrumph!"

Voran crosses his arms and shakes his head. "I am not feeding a corpse to an aberration."

"I'm happy to throw a snake corpse to the tapestry, but not a humanoid's," agrees Silverglade. "We have found many tombs. We can lay her in the next one we encounter."

He looks at the necklace and the bottle that Albricht is offering, then turns to Voran. "Does you, ahem, friend know anything about the properties of these objects? Are they magical or dangerous?"

Voran nods. "A much better plan. Let's do that. And we can try Albricht's plan by throwing a snake corpse into the room with the tapestry, but not right now."

To Silverglade's other question, he says, "Give me a moment." In his thoughts, he poses the question to the man trapped in the robe.

Elder Voran very shortly receives a reply, "I don't have a way to directly check to see if these items have any dweomer on them, but given the relatively low apparent value, even of the necklace, I greatly doubt that they could be ensorceled in any way, short of a curse.  As to curses, I may be able to detect one of those.  Wait just a moment."

Elder Voran feels a gentle request to move his hands and arms, and shortly he is moved by a sense of deep holiness as the other within him casts a spell.  He is left with a sense of seeing some of the truth of the state of things about him, in a sense of where they stand in the eternal war between good and evil.  He is quickly reassured when he is unable to detect any bastion of evil within his field of view, living or otherwise.

<Note: the Detect Evil spell will persist for the next hour.>
This message was last edited by the GM at 01:43, Sun 23 July 2017.

Voran shakes his head and describes what his new companion did. "We can detect evil things for the next hour, but not magic. In the mean time, we should carry this woman's body back up the ladder to the tombs above--perhaps the jester's tomb--so we can lay her to rest properly."

"Yes, that sounds like the best course of action to me as well."  Sherborne sighs a bit but offers to carry the body until they found a suitable place.

Silverglade picks up the woman's legs and helps Sherborne carry her.

While Albricht grumbles about climbing back up, away from the water, and Elboc sneers, both take ready positions around the impromptu pall bearers as the party cautiously moves to the tomb of the jester, interring the woman's body without incident, and again descends to the room where they found her.

There is a door opposite the one by which they entered, and Elder Voran hears a cautioning inner voice, "There are a pair of magically animated metal statues inside the next door.  Use a wedge or something similar to keep the door from swinging closed and they will allow you to pass unmolested.  If you fail in this, you will have to destroy them, lest they destroy you."

Voran shares this with the others, and then asks the group, "Who has something with which we can wedge the door?"
This message was last edited by the player at 19:50, Mon 24 July 2017.

Albricht removed a short-handled hammer and a pair of metal spikes and began to work on the doors.

"Lads, if you wouldn't mind holding these doors just so..." he asked through his whiskers.

When he felt confident the doors were secure, he motioned to Vsaati to lead the way. "You being the lightest, save maybe Roak there, why don't you scamper across and see what's needed for the other side? I suspicion there may be something that triggers the statues other than the doors, but hopefully I'm wrong."

The room that the open door reveals looks like a living room.  It contains wall hangings and ornate divans.  There are several pieces of sculpture in the room, as well as an iron statue of a warrior on each side of the doorway, just inside the room.  Everything is covered by a thin layer of dust.  There is a closed door forward and to the left (east).

Voran moves and holds the door open to allow Roak to move across the room.

Grumbling a bit about "short guy" comments, Roak moves through the room to the eastern door, seeing if anything jumps out at him. He also keeps an eye open for anything that would be useful for wedging the currently-open door.

Sensing this is not the opportune moment to mention that the dead woman's corpse would have made an ideal doorstop, Lanliss instead stands and waits to see what transpires next.

Sherborne keeps his hammer ready in case that statues move to attack or anything else ominous happens.

Once he was confident his spikes would hold the doors, Albricht shuffled into the room, taking in the sculptures as he did so.

"Hrrrrumph! I could go for a nap right about now..." he grumbled as he glanced longingly at the divan which would make a terrific place to relax his aged and sun-baked bones...

OOC: Looking for a way to disconnect the statues and also if there's anything connected to the non-warrior statues.

Roak moves to the far side of the room without incident, but finds nothing extra with which to wedge the door.  Albricht handles the lack by driving his spikes home, securing the door, but fails to find any mechanism connected to either of the two warrior statues, each of which look to weigh more than a good sized draft horse.

Voran examines the statues as well and shrugs. "Perhaps the armor is animated by magic when the door closes. Regardless, let's not tarry."

Roak searches the room for valuables. If he and the others find none, he listens at the next door.

Roak finds no valuables and hears nothing from beyond the closed door.

Silverglade gets ready to open the door. "Ready?" he asks the others.

Roak nods, his bow at the ready.

Voran nods as well, his sling in hand.  "Proceed."

Still wary of the statues, Sherborne moves into position to fire his sling at anything that might need some rock music.

Silverglade throws open the door and, as usual, heroically jumps back away from whatever danger he has uncovered.

The door opens to reveal a 10 foot wide hallway traveling directly ahead (east), and terminating at a closed door 50 feet away.  Aside from the doors and some dust, the hallway appears to be empty.

Unless he sees footsteps in the dust, Silverglade listens at the door.

Voran cautions Silverglade to use his sword to tap the ground in front of him as he advances to detect any pit traps or other troubles. He then follows the elf.

Silverglade can tell that the dust here has a steady set of tracks down the middle of the hall, with the very center of the hall being free of dust.

"Looks like there's a pathway here in the dust. If you see it suddenly stop, perk up, obvious sign of a trap."

After sharing that little bit of dungeon wisdom, Albricht accompanied the party as they moved forward. He glanced around to take note of anything out of place or odd.

Roak nods to the others. "Look, I'm going to go around the side and tap in front of me as things go along to see if a lightweight like me will set the thing off. Can I borrow a pole or something long from one of you guys?"

Sherborne follows closely behind with mace at the ready.

Elder Voran receives yet another internal message, "Beyond the door ahead is a room in which two gargoyles rest.  When I was alive, we had medallions that we wore, and they allowed us to pass as long as we did so.  I'm afraid that we're going to most likely be in for a fight.  I'm afraid, as well, that only magical weapons will have any chance of damaging them.  On the positive side, however, is the fact that I recall there being a magical mace in the desk in the room with them, so you may be able to recover and use it during the fight."

Voran shares this with everyone. "That means that one of our first priorities in the room will be to get to the desk to get to the magical mace."

Roak waves at Voran. "Albricht, you get the mace. Voran, you get ready to heal anyone that the gargoyles hurt. Anybody know much about gargoyles?"

Regardless of the answer to this question, Roak gets ready to rush into the room as soon as the door is open and one or two people with magic weapons have already moved in.
This message was last edited by the player at 19:47, Thu 03 Aug 2017.

Sherborne readies his mace to rush in when the door opens.

Albricht cocked a bushy sun-bleached eyebrow. "Eh?" He wasn't sure about this 'voice in my head' business which Voran was claiming. After all, Albricht had plenty of voices in his own head, and was something of an expert on the subject... just like he was about almost everything else!

"You lads with the fancy weapons do the dirty work, I'll guard the door."

"Gargoyles, yes...pig ugly, thick skins...like winged dwarves..."

Standing slightly back from the door with sword ready, Lanliss prepared himself to rush the room.

Silverglade stands back, ready to cast his spells. He taps hi magic dagger, ready to resort to that once his spells run out.

Roak kicks Albricht. "Not so fast. There's a magic weapon waiting in there for you. Go in, get it and help us kill the gargoyles."

He readies his own shiny magic dagger.

"Actually lad, winged dwarves are called... Ang-gah!!!" he'd begun to lecture Lanliss when Roak yanked his shoulder. Albricht turned to glare at Roak, the only person on this insane outing that was shorter than himself.

"Easy, easy, a weapon you say? Sprinting to get it? Dodging gargoyles all through the dangerous attempt? Yes, yes, Roak I understand why you'd want a veteran like me to accomplish this task... now then, stand back everyone! Things are about to get ancient!"

His back foot rotated slightly to give his sandal grip on the dusty floor. He hunkered down with a minimal amount of creaking protest. His gnarled and arthritic fingers flexed while his cheeks puffed as he psyched himself up.

"Alright Silverglade, I'm ready, open the door!"

When the door opened, he was off! Sandals slapping and bony knees pumping! Desert robes fluttering and chainmail jingling! The blazing shuffle of a legendary dwarven sprinter was on full display!

The door opens and Albricht races in to find that the gargoyles, while made of stone, were quite capable of hearing the conversation beyond the previously closed door.  One has the drop on him and leaps to attack as the dusty old dwarf dashes and jukes.

12:52, Today: Dungeon Master rolled 18 using 1d20.  Attack Roll. (Wing, Hit)
12:52, Today: Dungeon Master rolled 13 using 1d20.  Attack Roll. (Bite, Miss)
12:52, Today: Dungeon Master rolled 20 using 1d20.  Attack Roll. (Claw, Hit)
12:52, Today: Dungeon Master rolled 16 using 1d20.  Attack Roll. (Claw, Hit)

12:53, Today: Dungeon Master rolled 2 using 1d4.  Damage Roll. (Claw)
12:53, Today: Dungeon Master rolled 1 using 1d3.  Damage Roll. (Claw)
12:53, Today: Dungeon Master rolled 3 using 1d3.  Damage Roll. (Wing)

6 total damage

Expecting to see the long-winded dwarf torn to shreds, the parts can only stand in awe for a moment at the way that he manages to twist away from the very worst of the damage.

The other gargoyle races to the door and swipes repeatedly at Silverglade, yet it also seems to be somewhat distracted by, and in awe of, the dodging capabilities of its compatriot's diminutive prey, and completely fails to hit the elf.

12:55, Today: Dungeon Master rolled 3 using 1d20.  Attack Roll.  (Wing, Miss)
12:55, Today: Dungeon Master rolled 2 using 1d20.  Attack Roll.  (Bite, Miss)
12:55, Today: Dungeon Master rolled 5 using 1d20.  Attack Roll.  (Claw, Miss)
12:55, Today: Dungeon Master rolled 14 using 1d20.  Attack Roll. (Claw, Miss)

With that, the party gathers their wits and moves to attack.

Nonplussed at the gargoyle's assault, Silverglade sends a weak magic missile straight into the monster's face.

21:45, Today: Silverglade rolled 3 using 1d6+1. Magic missile damage.

Silverglade's attack does some minimal damage to the gargoyle in front of him, and it recoils in pain.

Roak steps in and tries to stab the gargoyle, but has no luck this round.

<orange>Hit AC 9, likely a miss.
17:13, Today: Roak The Quick rolled 10 using 1d20+2.  Attack with magic dagger!!<orange>

Voran, meanwhile, steps up and asks the One to heal some of Albricht's wounds.

Cure Light Wounds, heal 3 hp. 17:14, Today: Elder Voran rolled 3 using 1d6+1.  Cure Light Wounds.

Albricht slid to a stop near the place where Elder Voran's 'friend' had told him the mace might be found, and quickly began to rummage around looking for it. All the while he was shouting bits of obscure advice over his shoulder as his companions engaged the gargoyles.

"Seems they have extraordinary hearing! Wings for flight, claws for the obvious, yes, they're fully equipped as far as your standard gargoyle goes..."

OOC: Does Albricht find the mace?!

He felt a soothing warmth wash over his body and glanced back just in time to see Voran finish a prayer. "Thanks be to your God Voran! But the squishy elf will likely need your blessings more!"

Albricht, so focused on this search that he doesn't notice the combat behind him, including Roak's clear miss, slides the only drawer in the desk open to reveal a mace, which he quickly snatches up into his hand, whirling to combat the gargoyle near him.

Sherborne swings his mace at the nearest gargoyle but doesn't really seem to affect it.

10:04, Today: Sherborne rolled 10 using 1d20+2.  Attack on gargoyle.
hit AC 9

With a flip of his bony wrist, Albricht whirled the mace, getting a brief feel for it. It felt good... so he did it again. And again. Soon he was whirling the mace in fancy arcs in a rhythmic cadence, every so often clanging it off of his shield. The sun-baked old fighter was almost a mideval one-man-band!

"Alright ya stony-butted, bat-mimicking, goblin carvings! Get a taste of ol' Burghammer Battle Pie!"

Keeping his cadence going, he swung at the nearest gargoyle!

Hit AC4 for 6 damage

Elboc seems to make a point of paying no attention of Albricht's furious moves and vicious hit (which leaves the gargoyle the old dwarf is fighting temporarily reeling), and unleashes a Magic Missile on the gargoyle fighting Silverglade at the door.

19:45, Today: Dungeon Master, on behalf of Elboc Ice Eyes, rolled 3 using 1d6+1.  Spell Damage.

Maybe if he spent less time sneering at the dwarf, he could target his spells better...

<We're waiting on Lanliss and Vsaati at this point.>
This message was last edited by the GM at 02:47, Tue 08 Aug 2017.

OOC: Sorry came here yesterday but obviously forgot to post!

When even gargoyles objected to the idea of touching a dwarf, one knew one's company left much to be desired. Lanliss shrugged and entered the fray, hoping to avoid the madness.


14:18, Today: Lanliss rolled 14 using 1d20+4.  attack roll, sword.
14:19, Today: Lanliss rolled 6 using 1d8+4.  dmg.

Lanliss' attack leaves significant damage done to the gargoyle near the dor.  Vsaati, without a magic weapon, wisely moves to stay out of combat.

07:16, Today: Dungeon Master rolled 2 using 1d6.  Monster's Initiative.
07:16, Today: Dungeon Master rolled 4 using 1d6.  Party's Initiative.

So overwhelmed are the gargoyles by the party's coordinated attacks, that they hesitate, providing the group with the opportunity to attack again before the monsters can respond.
This message was last edited by the GM at 14:20, Tue 08 Aug 2017.

Sherborne apparently frustrated with his inability to connect with the stone menace before attacks this time with more focus.

09:20, Today: Sherborne rolled 8 using 1d6+2.  damage.
09:19, Today: Sherborne rolled 19 using 1d20+2.  Attack on gargoyle. (hit AC0)

Roak does likewise, diving forward and stabbing hard at the stone monsters!

Attacking the more-wounded one unless Sherborne kills it first; if it's dead, attack the less-wounded one. Hit AC -1 for 3 hp.

11:26, Today: Roak The Quick rolled 3 using 1d4+2 with rolls of 1.  Damage!
11:26, Today: Roak The Quick rolled 20 using 1d20+2 with rolls of 18.  Second round's attack.

Voran steps out of the way, waiting for an opportunity to help...

Move out of combat.

The dwarf's sandal slipped a little with the effect of changing direction slightly to the spinning mace as he tried to regain his balance. Overcompensating, the direction of swing became sideways and with a deathgrip on the mace, Albricht took on the semblance of a short, grizzled, partially-dehydrated old tornado!

As the momentum continued to build, he thought it polite to issue a storm warning to his companions! It came out something like: "Ge-eee-oooooww thwwwwaaaaaahhhhhh-eeee!!!"


With an astounding smashing sound of mace upon stone-flesh, he actually connected with one of the golems! Albricht's motion came to a sudden stop, but his bony knees wobbled for several seconds after impact and his lazy eye seemed to continue spinning oddly in its socket!

Attack Hit AC2 for 9 Damage!
This message was last edited by the player at 16:43, Tue 08 Aug 2017.

Silverglade draws his magic sword and throws it to Vsaati, hoping this will allow her to join the fight. Then he casts another magic missile, timing it to hit at a weak point under the gargoyle's wing while it is distracted by the various attacks being made against it.

22:52, Today: Silverglade rolled 7 using 1d6+1. Magic missile damage.

As Sherborne destroys the gargoyle by the door, Roak shoots past him and stabs at the remaining gargoyle, to no small effect.

The furious finish to the fight is achieved as the whirling dwarf destroys the remaining gargoyle in a shower of somewhat wet-yet-stony flesh.  Seeing this at the last possible moment, Silverglade manages to stop his casting without expending his spell.

Seeing this, Vsaati shrugs and hands the sword back to Silverglade.
This message was last edited by the GM at 02:59, Wed 09 Aug 2017.

Roak shrugs, sheathes his dagger and searches the room for valuables!

Now that the immediate danger of the gargoyles is over, the group notices the room.  It is paneled in wood, and a dusty carpet covers the floor.  A large, heavy desk sits in the center of the room.  Several wooden chairs are grouped north of the desk.  Behind the desk is a large plush chair, while behind the chair on the south wall is a mounted lion's head.  Four large painted urns stand in the corners of the room.  Finally, on both sides of the north doorway are stone pedestals.

Roak searches the desk and discovers a large pile of electrum and what appears to be a potion vial.  A further search of the room yields 18 gems that were hidden in the cushion of the plush chair.

Elder Voran receives a ghostly communication to the effect that his rider doesn't recall the potion being there previously.

"That was a little less scary than it could have been." Sherborne moves into the room on guard while the others search.

Voran beams at Sherborne. "The power of good teamwork and magic weapons! We should be careful the potion--my robe-friend does not remember it being there before. That does not bode well."

Roak shrugs and gives the gems and the big pile of electrum for the clerics to carry, for safe keeping and fair distribution. Assuming they ever got out of this thrice-cursed underground world alive.

To Sherborne, Albricht nodded his bobbling head in concurrence, "Aye, that went rather well!" The dwarf staggered around the room, obviously still very dizzy. "Anybody know if gargoyles stay dead when they're made that way?"

Voran shrugs. "You could keep pummeling them until they're smashed to bits, I supposed."

Silverglade looks over the lion's head, checking whether there is anything unusual about it.

Silverglade finds nothing particularly notable about the stuffed lion's head, aside from the fact that it is a lion's head.

"Gargoyles do stay dead once killed...usually."

Lanliss would say more but the words dry in his throat, perhaps due to lack of wine.

If he hasn't already, Roak searches the desk.

<Roak has already searched the desk.>

Not sure if he ought to particularly trust Lanliss's expertise on gargoyles or not, Albricht teed up with his warhammer and smacked several of the broken gargoyle pieces around the floor like an old fashioned game of croquet. He grinned when he sent the head of one of the monsters spinning between the elf's legs!

"Well Elder one," Albricht grunted with a smile, he being many many times older in reality than the human cleric they'd found. "Does your friend have any other advice as to how we continue?"

Sherborne raises an eyebrow and chuckles that.  "I think I saw the gargoyle's eye roll there.  Maybe it's not all dead."

Voran takes a moment to ask his robe-friend if there was any more guidance regarding this room.

Elder Voran hears the internal response, "No, my friend, there is nothing else of note here, although I do find myself a bit disturbed by your short companion's somewhat callous handling of the remains of the room's guardians.  There is a pit trap at the intersection beyond the exit door, and we'll need to take a right while crossing over it."

Voran cocks his head and shares this with the others. He then poses the robe the question. "You wish us to properly lay the bodies of the guardians to rest?"

"I supposed it doesn't really matter, but I still find myself taken a bit aback by the attitude.  In the end, you did kill them, but smashing after death, along with the beheading, it all seems more than a bit much." comes the reply.

Albricht glanced over to Voran who seemed to be talking to himself again. "Hrrrumph? They're animated rocks are they not?"

Voran shares the comment but then says back to the robe, "You must be mistaken. I was always under the impression that gargoyles are living constructs, perhaps even cursed ones. If that is incorrect, then it was our error and I apologize, for that was our understanding. I do hope you will not hold this matter against us."
This message was last edited by the player at 18:51, Mon 14 Aug 2017.

"As you can see," comes the reply, and Elder Voran's gaze is drawn to the sight, "they bleed.  I've never seen a construct that does so.  For what this means, however, and whether or not they have a soul, I'm afraid that that knowledge is above my somewhat lowly station."
This message was last edited by the GM at 01:48, Tue 15 Aug 2017.

Voran continues, "Then, again, my regrets. We acted out of ignorance, not malice. Please affirm that you will not hold this matter against us in our foolishness."

The reply to Elder Voran's internal conversation comes, "The way provided by Usamigaras must be the right one, or He would not have provided it.  Let us continue."

Voran nods and turns to Albricht. "For future reference: gargoyles are apparently NOT animated rocks. Come on, we've made enough of a mess. Who wants to listen at the other door?"

The old dwarf scratched absently at the wispy sun-bleached hair beneath his helmet. As a dwarf, he was born with an affinity for stone and the working of it. He'd seen such statues made, under contract, for what he'd always assumed was decoration on the walls and halls of human cities. Now that Voran mentioned it, there was a significant amount of blood about, and this puzzled the oldster. Somehow a crafted hunk of rock had been given life. Albricht thought back to the legends of his people, wherein it was told that they themselves had been created from stone and given life. If gargoyles were similarly created, then one might well conclude that dwarves and gargoyles were somehow related...

With that thought, one bushy white eyebrow shot up, and Albricht's eyes turned slowly toward Lanliss who had just described gargoyles as being like flying dwarves...

"BAH! Hrrrumph!" He snorted and clomped over to the door to press his overly large ear against it.

"Yes, please pass along my apologies as well", Sherborne adds as he stands a little unnerved by that revelation.

Silverglade also listens at the door, adding his acute hearing to that of the half-deaf dwarf. Silently cursing at how loudly the other breathed, he tries to make out anything on the other side.

Silverglade listens at the door, but hears nothing from beyond it.

Albricht reached and opened the door, giving whatever terrible horror that lay beyond it full access to Silverglade!

Roak prepares to hit something with a dagger if needed!

Voran also prepares his sling to hit anything that looks like a threat beyond the door!

The door opens to reveal a corridor that heads directly ahead (north), at which point it opens out into a four-way intersection.

Now that the door is open, Silverglade hears the faint sound of booted feet in the distance, but coming closer.  No light is visible, aside from the light sources used by the party.

Roak nods. "Silverglade, Albricht, you head down first; the rest of us will cover you or follow." He hefts his bow to reinforce his point.

As Roak calls out to Albricht, the sound stops.

Albricht motioned the others back into the room, mouthing in a very over-dramatic fashion for his cotton-headed companions. "B-e-t-t-e-r a-m-b-u-s-h i-n t-h-e-r-e..."

Sherborne smirks a bit at that but quietly backs into the room out of site from the door.

Roak curses under his breath and heads back into the room, moving around the corner out of sight.

Looking around their group, the old water-finder's mind raced. He was thinking of who would make the best bait. Roak was small and thus seemingly vulnerable. Vsaati being female was also a possibility, assuming of course that she would concede to playing the part. Then there were the elves who also were very feminine and vulnerable-looking. It was a tough choice.

"N-o-t s-o f-a-s-t s-h-o-r-t-y," Albricht mouthed to Roak, "y-o-u'r-e t-h-e b-a-i-t!" Followed by a vague gesture to move back out in the hall and draw the footstep makers back in. He glanced at Silverglade to see if he heard anything further.

Silverglade backs into the room, but keeps listening. Do the footsteps sound close enough that he should see the stepper?

Roak crosses his arms. "If you try to make me the bait, oh smelly and hairy one, I will stab you in the foot. Why don't YOU go? You've actually got decent armor. And a shield. And you're allegedly fearless."

The steps sounded, to Silverglade, like the came from one of the side passages beyond the short corridor to the north.

Albricht blinked. "So I do... Alright then lads! Let me show you all how this is done!"

On the tippy-toes of his desert sandals, the old dwarf began his way down the hallway. He slowed as he approached the intersection, and stopped to listen for the sounds which Silverglade had allegedly heard. Carefully, he poked one wandering eyeball (and that side of his face of course) around the corner to see what sort of terrible, halfling-eating monstrosity was coming their way!

Elder Voran hears, "I did mention that there's a pit trap in the middle of the intersection, didn't I?" inside his head.

Albricht pokes his head around the corner to the right, and then quickly pulls back as he hears motion down the left passage.

16:47, Today: Dungeon Master rolled 10 using 1d20+1.  Attack Roll.

A dagger spins past the aged dwarf's head, missing by quite a wide margin, and it goes clattering down the right-hand passage.

16:49, Today: Dungeon Master rolled 3 using 1d6.  Monster's Initiative.
16:49, Today: Dungeon Master rolled 5 using 1d6.  Party's Initiative.

Since the party was expecting trouble, the quickly jump into action.

<Party's turn.  Call out your actions.>

Voran rolls his eyes. "Everyone watch out! My robe-friend just mentioned that there is a pit trap in that hallway, halfway down."

He then moves up to the corner, getting his sling ready, leans around the corner, fires the sling at the foe!

Hit AC 2 for 4 hp with my sling! And duck back behind cover.

Roak conserves his arrows for now, staying back this time.

Silverglade rounds the corner while drawing an arrow to his ear. He releases instinctively, but stays far back from any pit trap.

14:05, Today: Silverglade rolled 7 using 1d20+1 ((6)).

Elder Voran's sling stone hits hard, and one of the creatures, which looks somewhat like a hobgoblin, lets out a hard, "Oof!" of pain before making a too-late dodge to the side.
This message was last edited by the GM at 18:08, Sun 20 Aug 2017.

"Eh?" The dwarf looked down at his feet, expecting to see a gaping portal ready to consume him. "Now yeh tell me..."

Albricht attempted to click off a crossbow bolt and ricochet it off the wall of the tunnel toward his enemies... but in the confusion it was too tough to concentrate on such a trick shot.

"Fall back lads! We are beaten! Their numbers are too much!" He said aloud in the goblin tongue, allowing his voice to carry down the hall, though believing no such things.

Turning furiously back to his companions he mouthed vehemently, "W-H-A-T A-B-O-U-T T-H-E A-M-B-U-S-H???"

He cocked his crossbow again angrily and waited for another chance to make a better shot.

Crossbow shot: Albricht rolled 8
This message was last edited by the player at 00:03, Mon 21 Aug 2017.

Not for the first time, Albricht spoke something that sounded utterly nonsensical to Lanliss. The elf understood the tongue of hobgoblins so he was able to pick out a few words that he recognised, but to all intents it sounded like the dwarf had called...

"Fart back, legs! We are beaters! Their armies are big mush!"

It was only upon reading the dwarf's silently mouthed words that Lanliss understood the fellow's ploy - to drag the enemy into an ambush, thinking they had cornered a madman and his lunatic cohorts...which was partly true in any case.

The elf nodded and stepped into an ambush spot just inside the doorway, sword at the ready. Best not to give away strength of numbers to their opponents, until it was too late.

Sherborne moved up as quietly as possible to the ambush spot as well.

Silverglade also attempts to draw back to the room, switching to sword and shield as he does so.

Roak wastes no time withdrawing to the ambush spot.

Elboc sneers at the retreating dwarf, steps forward, leans around the corner, and looses an arrow at the approaching enemy.

19:13, Today: Dungeon Master, on behalf of Elboc Ice Eyes, rolled 17 using 1d20+1.  Attack Roll.
19:13, Today: Dungeon Master, on behalf of Elboc Ice Eyes, rolled 2 using 1d6.  Damage Roll.

While only doing minor damage, he then pulls back to stand with the rest in the hope of ambush.

Vsaati seeing this, makes an all-too-jerky move out from cover, attempts to snap a sling stone into the approaching trio, misses fairly wildly, and scrambles for cover.

19:16, Today: Dungeon Master, on behalf of Vsaati, rolled 4 using 1d20+3.  Attack Roll.

The three hobgoblins race around the corner, the injured one seeming to be less injured that the previous wounds would leave Elboc and the other to believe.  In an almost comical way, and with breathtaking suddenness, the floor in the center of the hall gives way, and all three fall, shrieking, with agonized shrieking and wet crunching sounds following immediately thereafter.

19:20, Today: Dungeon Master rolled 5 using 1d6.  Monster's Initiative.
19:20, Today: Dungeon Master rolled 1 using 1d6.  Party's Initiative.

Shortly, it becomes evident that the hobgoblins are not climbing out of the pit and the party rouses themselves to action.

Roak nods to Silverglade and Albricht. "Let's not rush. Why don't you head down the hallway, tapping the floor in front of you. If we encounter a pit, I can try to cross it because I'm lighter or try to trigger it."

Silverglade peeks into the pit to see what's there.

In frustration, Albricht poked his head through the doorway he'd fallen back to with the others with a very colorful dwarven oath upon his lips, when all sorts of pandemonium broke out down the hallway. His eyes widened considerably when he saw the floor had opened up to swallow their attackers!

"By the Sand and Stones! I was just there!" He sputtered. Quickly regaining from the shock, he began forward, immediately taking credit for the death of the hobgoblins as their death cries faded. "Well lads, looks like we outwitted those nitwits after all!"

Without argument, the old dwarf nodded at Roak. "Aye, I see the wisdom in that. Wish we had a pole about thrice your height for just such a purpose. Back in my day, we never went exploring without one! Nor a dozen or so torches and a week's worth of dry rations... Of course this little trip wasn't really planned as I recall, but it sure would have been nice if someone would have thought to bring one along, just in case."

He joined Silverglade at the side of the pit to look down upon the smelly unfortunates who dared to pit their wits against those of a sun-addled old relic.

OOC: Also looking down into the pit for Treazaahz!

On glancing down into the pit, one of the hobgoblins is obviously dead, but the other two are kicking, and trying to pull themselves up off of the spikes in the bottom. They seem to be doing a pretty good, if slow, job of it.

Advancing on the pit after the others have gone, Voran sees the pitiable hobgoblins and tries to put one out of his misery with a fling of the sling.

Hit AC 0 for 4 hp with a sling. Can keep rolling if one doesn't free itself next round.

14:00, Today: Elder Voran rolled 4 using 1d4.  Damage.
14:00, Today: Elder Voran rolled 20 using 1d20+1.  Sling on wounded hobgoblin.

Silverglade calls down in Hobgoblin. "Who are you, and why did you attack us?"

Elder Voran's projectile finishes one of the two creatures in the bottom of the spiked pit, ending its tortured struggles.

The other spits up at Silverglade and calls out in badly accented Common, "Zargon shall devour you all!  All hail the Creeping Lord!"
This message was last edited by the GM at 01:58, Thu 24 Aug 2017.

Voran winces. "All hail the Powers of Law! Be silent."

He hits the other hobgoblin with a sling-stone...

Nat 20 auto-hits for 2 hp damage on the remaining hobgoblin.
13:38, Today: Elder Voran rolled 2 using 1d4.  Damage.
13:38, Today: Elder Voran rolled 21 using 1d20+1.  Sling on second hobgoblin.

Albricht encouraged Voran and offered timely and sage criticism of his overhand technique, which was surprisingly positive from the sun-bleached oldster.

"I'm with you Cleric, creeping things need to be squashed!"

Silverglade holds up a hand. "Who is this Zargon? Is he nearby?"

Sherborne readies his sling to attack the hobgoblin but holds off as he wants to hear the results of the conversation.  He also watches for anything else that might come around the corner.

The snarled response comes back up to Silverglade from the pit, "Zargon is beneath us, consuming all!"

At the same time, the voice in Elder Voran's head adds, "Zargon is the force of evil that corrupted my brother and so many other people.  I had hoped that its influence would have waned since my death, but it appears that this is not the case."

Albricht's head leaned back and his eyes grew wide. He turned around so his back was to the struggling hobgoblin and said softly to the others, "No wonder there's no water! This giant slug has been drinking it all!"

To this point in their adventure, Albricht had been something of a crotchety old geezer, addled by too many long days in the desert sun and a life, if he could be believed and however unlikely it might seem, that was many, many, many, many, many centuries in duration. His moments of insight and clarity were infrequent and he often seemed to view the world around him through his wandering blue eyes in odd ways. He had gotten rather animated at some points and had been nostalgic at others. Now however, as one gnarled hand scratched absently at his bristly whiskers and the other squeezed tightly on the haft of his old, worn-out warhammer, the dwarf seemed to truly be incensed.

"Anciently, my clansmen spoke of massive worms that lived in the bedrock of the world. When the mountains were collapsed back in the Big One of '32, we escaped above ground to the vast forests which once covered the deserts over where we now stand. It was believed by the old timers, those even older than myself, that one of these massive worms was responsible for the quakes. When the forests burned and we were left to wander the wastelands that eventually became baked in the sun and without plant life to hold the moisture, water became very, very important to the clans."

"We know that water is down, ever downward unless something prevents its path into the depths. There the Dwarf-God uses it for quenching the creations of his Earth Forge, and the steam from those quenchings brings it back to the surface. For some big, fat, Zargrub to be slurping it all up down below us... is as blasphemous as anything I can imagine! I must destroy this foul entity before my days of searching the burning sands are done!"

Albricht stood a little straighter, his face was stoic, and his eyes tracked together for once. This was the most serious his companions had ever seen him since there acquaintance as guards for the caravan that brought them here.

As the parched old dwarf ends his soliloquy, the creature in the pit manages to finish freeing itself from the spikes that had impaled it, and is looking quite a bit better than it had some moments before.

"Were not getting any more out of this guy."  With that Sherborne fires a sling stone but it just makes noise at the bottom of the pit.

11:10, Today: Sherborne rolled 9 using 1d20+1.  sling attack on hobgoblin.

<Retconning, 'cause I lost track of this...>

As the conversation ends, Elder Voran's sling stone smashes through the creature's skull, leaving the remains of the no-longer-looking-well-at-all creature sprawled at the bottom of the spiked pit, next to its equally dead compatriot.
This message was last edited by the GM at 17:34, Fri 25 Aug 2017.

"One last question," says Silverglade just before the stone hits. "Oh, never mind."

"Well then," Albricht said with a serious tone. "Now that we've got that taken care of, I say we get moving. Zargrub awaits my wrath!"

He stood looking down the separate tunnels. "Uh... which way Voran?"

Again comes the disembodied voice in Elder Voran's head, "To the right, across and to the side of the pit."

Voran shares what his robe-friend says, allowing Silverglade and Albricht to lead the way, of course!

Albricht shuffled in the indicated direction, being careful to skirt the edge of the pit, not trusting any construction that wasn't dwarven. Then he paused a moment.

"Say Roak, since you're the smallest, how about we lower you down and you can loot those bodies? Hobs sometimes have interesting things that they're too stupid to use but keep around because they're shiny..."

Roak snorts. "Typical. Pick on the small guy. Let's throw a couple of things into the pit first to make sure there are no more traps, THEN lower me down, right?"

<What do you throw down, if anything?>

"Hrrumph. Typical. Small guy has a chip on his shoulder. Listen lad, afore you was even born, it was me who was the smallest most times out, and aye, we're both strong you and I, but would ya really rather stay up top and try to lower one of these lanky elves down there, or worse, Sherborne? Bah! Yer not gettin' picked on unless you choose to see it that way. It makes sense for the smaller lighter of this troupe to be lowered down, does it not?"

It was one of those rare moments when the sun-baked dwarf might actually have made some sense. Perhaps.

Roak grunts and then nods. "I'm going back to get a gargoyle body party. Hold on."

He goes back, grabs a reasonable-size piece of gargoyle and then throws it into the pit.

Meanwhile, Albricht had gathered whatever rope the party had and was beginning to tie some very admirable dwarf-knots. "We can yank ya right out lad if something goes bad, ya know, really bad. Such as, perhaps, if the walls should slam together, or the pit suddenly fill with acid or whatever, yeah, we probably won't be able to save you from those, but most other minor calamities you'll be back up here before you can say Zygag's your uncle!"

"Here loop this around your waist, that loop goes between your legs, that there over your shoulders... this loop is for weapons, this for tying sacks of treasure - pretty clever huh?, oh, and this one around your sword hand in case you get stung with poison and we need to puppet you against so me nasty foe..."

"But I'm sure you'll be just fine and most of those things won't happen to you." His reassuring smile belied the sun-mad mind.
This message was last edited by the player at 15:22, Wed 30 Aug 2017.

The piece of gargoyle flesh falls to the bottom of the pit with a wet thud, but nothing else seems to happen.

Roak sighs. "Okay, FINE. Lower me down so I can loot the bodies."

He stream-curses under his breath as the rope is tied to him and as he's lowered down...

Sherborne carefully moves to the other side of the pit to keep watch.

Albricht joined in lowering the halfling down, being careful to hold back on his constant stream of timely and sage advice after gauging the irritation level of the one being lowered.

"Well? Whatcha find?"

Roak grunts as he is lowered and then carefully frisks the hobgoblins' bodies and otherwise carefully searches around the spikes for goodies.

While he needs to descend carefully to avoid the spikes, they seem to be the totality of the danger presented in the pit.  Searching the bodies, small tell-tales indicate that they're not hobgoblins, but Roak has no idea what they are.  When he is done, he has recovered a woven silver belt set with opals and a platinum earring-nosering chain set with onyxes.  They seem to have no other equipment beyond very simple clothing on them.

Roak, when arrives at the top, gives the silver belt to Voran for safe keeping and then goes with the others down the hallway past the pits!

As the group passes down the hallway to the east (right), they come across the item that had previously flown past Albricht's head at the opening of the conflict with the not-hobgoblins.  It appears to be a simple, unadorned dagger of exceptional quality, with just the hint of a purple tinge to the metal.

Silverglade squats for a closer look at the dagger, but does not touch it. He then looks up at Voran. "Does your friend know anything about this dagger?"

Elder Voran gets a sense of a fairly definite negative in regard to Silverglade's question.

Voran shakes his head. "Sadly, no, though I have a bad feeling that it's poisoned. Handle it very carefully."
This message was last edited by the player at 22:49, Mon 04 Sept 2017.

Albricht shuddered, realizing that this particular implement might have become an addition to his anatomy. "Hrrumph! Keep that thing away from me!" He turned and made his way forward, cautiously following the voices in Elder Voran's head.

The party continues down the hallway!

The party travels down the long hallway, around 100 feet or a bit more, and comes to a T intersection, with a 20 foot passage leading left (north) to a dead end, and a 30 foot passage leading right (south) to a closed door.

Elder Voran "hears" the message, "The dead end passage to the left hides a secret door.  Our destination is through it."

Albricht tested the intersection with the sole of one of his worn desert sandals, remembering the last intersection where a few inches more would have led him to a painful and less-than-legendary death! He got down close to observe for any sort of trip or plate. "Vsaati, are we ok here?"

OOC: If there's no trap, Albricht will cautiously proceed and begin looking for the secret door.

Voran shares this with the others and then asks the robe, out loud so the others can hear, "And what is to the south beyond the doorway?"

The internal response to Elder Voran's spoken question comes, "A storage room, from what I recall."

Albricht looks about, but does not find the secret door.

Hobgoblins, but not so Hobgoblinny.  This place is surely odd to say the least.  How all these folks haven't killed each other and survived is ... well ... mind boggling." Sherborne keeps his hammer at the ready.

"Hrrrumph! Dead end." Albricht scratched his head. "I think you're friend up there might be a little confused."

He shuffled down the hall toward the door and pressed an overly large ear against the door.

Roak rolls his eyes. "Dwarven amateurs. Silverglade or Lanliss, could you find the door for us, please?"

Silverglade casts his sharp eyes about, looking for the secret door or a way to open it.

Silverglade immediately finds the secret door, and the catch to open it.

Albricht hears nothing from beyond the closed door to the south, nor does he spring a trap while approaching and touching it.

"Bah! Stupid place to put a release..." He glowered at the halfling, aiming a half-hearted, sandal-footed kick.

"Lead on then Silverglade..." he said before adding under his breath, "smarty!"

"Oh come on, I though 'Amateurs' was actually a compliment to you..."

Lanliss grins like the proverbial cat that got the cream.

Silverglade pulls the catch, then looks for an opening door.

The door opens to reveal a passage beyond that heads directly left (west) and right (east).  Each goes for about 30 feet before turning 90 degrees to the north.  Elder Voran indicates that the right-hand passage is the correct one, according to Demetrius, the voice in his head.  He further warns of a trap, just before the door at the eventual end of the passage.

At mention of a trap, Silverglade hangs back to let Vsaati go first.

Voran is in complete agreement, relaying this to the others and asking Vsaati to find and disable the trap.

"Didn't we keep any hobgoblins around for finding traps? You know, by shoving them into or on top of them?"

"Nevermind the hobgoblins," interjects Vsaati, "I've got this."

At that, she moves forward, carefully testing the floor and walls, makes the left (north) turn, travels about another 60 feet, turns to the right (east), and stops.  She kneels, examines the floor where Demetrius indicated the trap would be, pulls her tools out of her pack, and spends several minutes working on a large section of the floor.

After some time, she sighs, packs her tools, and says, "It looks like I've got it," then carefully steps forward across the floor.  A moment later she returns and says, "Exactly as promised, there's a door here, and I heard a weird scream from beyond it, but then it stopped."

Albricht watched carefully as Vsaati plied her craft. He looked on the verge of making comment at one or two points, but instead Hrrumphed into his whiskers and kept quiet.

"Weird screaming... then it stopped? Well, I'd say that's perhaps not as worrisome as weird screaming that doesn't stop..."

"Not sure how it's a good thing either way," Sherborne whispers.

Elder nods. "Disturbing, but it should not deter us. Silverglade, Lanliss, would you do the honors opening the door?

Silverglade prepares his sword and shield, then opens the door before springing back.

The door opens to reveal ten people wearing dark robes and masks of fearsome, imaginary monsters sitting in a circle in this room.  They are staring straight ahead, and don't seem to be looking at anything in particular.  The room is about 50 feet straight ahead and 80 feet side to side, with doors in the far left and right (north and south) walls.

Internally, Elder Voran hears, "My brother should be through the door to the right, and through the room beyond it."

Voran waves Silverglade out and says, "We need to go through the door on the right. Let me ask my robe-friend a question."

He thinks to the man in the robe, <<Will these people in the room attack us if we enter?>>

The answer comes immediately, "I have no idea."

Voran relays this admission to the group. "Therefore, I propose that we try to leave these individuals alone and proceed to our destination."

Roak frowns. "The problem with that idea is that if they're allies of the guy in the room to the right, they may rush in after us."

Albricht, crossbow at the ready, glanced over at the halfling and the priest. "Uh... are we interrupting something here?" He was considering ticking a bolt into the center of the group to see if they might scurry like a pile off ants.

"Why are they just standin' there? Maybe we should poke at'em a bit and see what happens?"

Voran waves his hand. "I think they will leave us alone if we leave them alone. What say the rest of you? Roak has said his peace."

Silverglade casts his mind to the iron spikes in his pack. "Let's leave these fellows in peace. I have a feeling that they won't be bothering us."

"I suppose I would rather try to sneak by, but we should probably be ready to bolt if needed.  If the all attack us, that would be problematic I should think."  Sherborne keeps his hand on his hammer in case it's necessary.

Roak raises his hand. "I'll test the theory."

He steps into the room a good 5', then stops. If they don't reply, he moves slowly, in 5' increments, toward the right-hand door. If they turn & rise, he freezes in place.

Albricht held his crossbow at the ready, taking a bead on the closest of the robed figures, ready to touch it off if Roak was endangered.

But oh how twitchy was that trigger finger...

Roak carefully steps into the room with no apparent trouble.  Just as he begins to move a bit after his initial pause, the closest sitting figure leaps up, clutches at his or her head, and shrieks, then falls to the floor.  The others in the sitting circle don't seem to respond in any way.

Silverglade steps into the room too, in the hopes of causing another figure to fall.

As Silverglade enters the room, the first figure continues to shriek and writhe on the floor, but none of the others seem to be acknowledging this in any way.

Roak begins to inch for the door...

The shrieking figure continues to cry out and thrash on the floor, and the others continue to ignore all else in the room.  Roak slowly makes his way to the other door with no further action from the masked and (mostly) seated figures.

Voran steps in, wearing the robe, and tries to follow Roak, waving for Silverglade to go with him.

By the time Elder Voran catches up to Roak, the individual that had been screaming has stopped, gotten up, and resumed the seated position with the others.

Albricht's wild-eye had widened at the bizarre scene in the room. He turned and mouthed to elves, Humans are odd!

His desert sandals made soft noises as he also shuffled into the room, hugging the wall as he made his way closer to Roak and the Elder.

Hrrrumph! Which sounded faintly like ice sliding off a granite slab.

As quietly as possible Sherborne follows the discrete path through the room.

Silverglade imagines that the hairs would have stood up on the back of his neck if only he was from one of the coarse races that had hairy necks. Quietly he follows the others out of the room.

Voran points to Silverglade and then to the door, indicating that the elf should open it.

Silverglade does his best to listen at the new door, then opens it if he hears nothing.

What Silverglade hears from beyond the closed door sounds to be the clinking of small amounts of metal together, and other types of clattering, with an undertone of voices speaking quietly.

With a nod to the others, Silverglade opens the door as quietly as he can.

The door opens to show a dozen robed men and women, masked as various animals in a 60 foot by 60 foot room.  They are playing games of chance.  Card games are being played at one table, dice games at another.  In the center of the room is a large wheel of fortune.  Many silver and gold coins, gems, and pieces of jewelry are changing hands as people win and loose.

Elder Voran internally hears, "There is a secret door on the opposite wall.  My brother and his henchmen are beyond it.  I know where it is and how to open it."

Albricht leaned around from behind Silverglade, crossbow at the ready, but the tip of the cocked bolt quickly drooped at the sight of coin... but the oldster's eyes surely lit up!

"Sorry we're late lads," the dwarf said as he sauntered into the room, "is there still room for one more?" He jingled a pouch of money. He slung his crossbow casually and looked for an open seat at the table.

Sherborne raises an eyebrow as the dwarf saunters into the room.  "This should be interesting and perhaps amusing," he says quietly to no one in particular.

Voran sighs as Albricht perhaps causes an interesting issue. He waves to, well, everyone else in the party and points to the far side of the room. "There is a secret door on the far wall. That is where we need to go."

The gamblers turn and greet Albricht in a vague, if friendly way, and make room for him at one of the tables, seeming to completely ignore the rest of the party.

Silverglade makes his way to the other side of the room where he looks for the secret door.

Albricht shuffled over to the proffered seat and scanned the table, the piles of coins and the general demeanor of the group to get a feel for how the gambling was going. "Tell ya one thing, this place isn't easy to find for an old dwarf like myself. Been wandering around down here for an hour! Alright then, what'r we playing?"

It takes Silverglade several moments, but he eventually finds the outline of the secret door and its catch.

"The game is Vrajikil, and 6s, 4s, and 11s are wild," the dealer explains to Albricht, to the cheering of the other players.

Sherborne stays back and as out of the way as possible but is entertained by the Dwarf's forwardness.  If nothing else it will act as a distraction.

"Wild? Hrrrumph! Wild? Ha! That's a tame game where I come from!" Albricht's demeanor had changed. It was as if he'd shed a century or two of age. "Are we Half-under or Round-about or straight-up Balin's Doom?" He asked about vague and obscure rules that those familiar with a table like to bring up in order to give themselves an unfair advantage over novices.

The dwarf pulled his dagger and plunged it into the table in front of him and placed a handful of coins between himself and the blade in the old dwarven tradition, the meaning of which was lost to the timeless oblivion.

"I'm ready to win lads! Loosen your purse-strings! Let's get this thing goin'!"

Roak doesn't know whether to laugh or cry as he watches the dwarf engaged with a possible bunch of hostiles. He kept his thoughts to himself, though, as he waited for Silverglade to finish his search.

"One supposes we are about to discover if the old elven adage, 'A fool (or dwarf, which is much the same thing) and his money are soon parted'...

And although a roll of the dice is tempting, perhaps some of us better keep our wits about us."

The group of players give a start as the curmudgeonly old dwarf slams his dagger into the tabletop, then relax, cheer, and laugh for joy as he loudly declares his intention to play.  The dealer calmly begins to deal cards and the attention of the room leaves all members of the party but Albricht.

Since Albricht appears to have this group occupied, Silverglade slips the catch and peeks around the door.

As Silverglade cracks the door, he hears someone on the other side casting and completing a spell, just has his eye comes to the crack.  He sees a masked figure beyond the door, just lowering what must be a holy symbol of some sort, but covered in spikes and tentacles, and six (6) hobgoblins, all of which turn to look at Silverglade through the only-slightly-opened door.

19:57, Today: Dungeon Master rolled 3 using 1d6.  Monster's Initiative.
19:56, Today: Dungeon Master rolled 1 using 1d6.  Party's Initiative.

The moves on the part of those on the other side of the door are so sudden that they catch the party by surprise.  The masked figure again raises the (un)holy symbol and casts a spell on Silverglade, which the elf is unable to shake off.

19:58, Today: Dungeon Master, on behalf of Silverglade, rolled 4 using 1d20.  Save vs. Spell.

For the moment, Silverglade finds himself unable to make audible sounds of any sort.

The six (6) hobgoblins rush the door, with only two of them able to attack Silverglade, but all managing to shove the door wide open.

20:01, Today: Dungeon Master rolled 10 using 1d20.  Attack Roll.

20:00, Today: Dungeon Master rolled 18 using 1d20.  Attack Roll.
20:01, Today: Dungeon Master rolled 1 using 1d8.  Damage Roll.

Despite being somewhat caught off-guard, the nimble elf manages to avoid the first blow entirely, and takes only a very minimum of damage from the other.  Still, something will need to be done swiftly, as the entire group is pushing forward, and will likely spill into the gambling room soon.

The masked man calls out in a loud voice, "Surrender to the might of Zargon now, or face horrible, maiming deaths!"

<It's the party's turn now...>

Silverglade lashes out wordlessly at the hobgoblin who hit him, but the pain from the wound causes the blow to go wide.

OOC:
22:30, Today: Silverglade rolled 9 using 1d20+2.  To hit (sword).
This message was last edited by the player at 21:32, Wed 27 Sept 2017.

Voran lets out a cry and flings a sling-stone at the nearest hobgoblin.

Hit AC 4 for 4 damage on a hobgoblin!

21:01, Today: Elder Voran rolled 4 using 1d4+1.  Damage.
21:00, Today: Elder Voran rolled 15 using 1d20+1.  Sling attack on hobgoblin.

Roak springs forward to engage the hobgoblins, but his blade makes no purchase.

Miss.

21:02, Today: Roak The Quick rolled 5 using 1d20+2.  Attack a hobgoblin with magic sword!

Sherborne moves in to attack the closest hobgoblin.

hits AC 6 - I forgot to add +2 so really the roll should have been 13.
21:07, Today: Sherborne rolled 4 using 1d6+2.  damage.
21:05, Today: Sherborne rolled 12 using 1d20+1.  Attack on hobgoblin.

Elder Voran's hit is solid, and almost (but not quite) does the hobgoblin in.

The old desert wanderer snatched up the dice, chits, cards and other paraphernalia of the game at the table and began to warm them up by chaotically shaking, sorting and shuffling them. In his eye was a glint of excitement.

"Now then lads, pay close attention because this is where your coins start to disappear! First off-" he glanced over his shoulder at the sound of a disturbance, thinking it a scrap breaking out between heated gamblers at another table. When he smelled hobgoblin however, his demeanor changed from one of pleasant entertainment to one of downright annoyance!

"Who invited them?!" he demanded loudly, standing to his feet. "Oh for the love of the Sand Walker... excuse me a moment lads while I sort this out..."

Albricht plucked his dagger from the table, scooped his coins into his purse, and walked toward the secret door where his companions were picking a fight. He drew his magical mace and bulled his way into the fray!

Attack: Hit AC3 for 4 damage.

Between Sherborne's and Albricht's swings, they leave the second hobgoblin in the doorway lying dead.  The other one doesn't look good at this point, but is continuing to aggress.

Elboc draws his bow and looses an arrow at the remaining hobgoblin that is directly in the doorway, but just barely misses.

12:05, Today: Dungeon Master, on behalf of Elboc Ice Eyes, rolled 12 using 1d20+2.  Attack Roll.

The gamblers are continuing on, paying no attention to the party or the hobgoblins.

<Lanliss and Vsaati, we're waiting on you...>
This message was last edited by the GM at 19:07, Sat 30 Sept 2017.

Vsaati lets a sling stone fly, killing the second hobgoblin at the door.  Four more remain within the other room, along with the other masked figure.

07:30, Today: Dungeon Master, on behalf of Vsaati, rolled 15 using 1d20+4.  Attack Roll.
07:31, Today: Dungeon Master, on behalf of Vsaati, rolled 4 using 1d4+1.  Damage Roll.



<We're just waiting on Lanliss now...>

Lanliss draws an arrow back on his bowstring, takes aim, looses, and misses.

19:52, Today: Dungeon Master, on behalf of Lanliss, rolled 10 using 1d20+2.  Attack Roll.

The monsters and their leader are left so off-center by the sudden and vicious attack on the part of the members of the party, that the party gets one up on them immediately.

19:53, Today: Dungeon Master rolled 5 using 1d6.  Party's Initiative.
19:53, Today: Dungeon Master rolled 3 using 1d6.  Monster's Initiative.

<Let me know what you're doing this round, guys.>

Voran flings another sling-stone which bounces off of the armor of one of the hobgoblins.

Hits AC 9, almost certainly not a hit. 07:59, Today: Elder Voran rolled 10 using 1d20+1.  Slingstone.

Roak tries to take down another of the goblins, trying a series of cuts and attacks...

Hit ac 6 for 4 hp damage. Also probably a miss against hobgoblins.

07:59, Today: Roak The Quick rolled 4 using 1d8+2 with rolls of 2.  Damage (if a hit).
07:59, Today: Roak The Quick rolled 13 using 1d20+2 with rolls of 11.  Sword attack on hobgoblin.

While Elder Voran's sling stone misses, Roak's cut almost completely eviscerates the hobgoblin he rushed forward to attack.  This leaves Roak inside the room beyond the secret door, but his push forward has left enough space for some of his companions to make their way in behind him.

Suddenly, Elder Voran feels the presence inside of him cast a holy spell, and the three uninjured hobgoblins all completely stop moving, seemingly frozen in place.  Unfortunately, this does not include the masked figure, who seems to shrug the effect off.

At present, only the masked figure and the hobgoblin that Roak injured are in the fight.
This message was last edited by the GM at 14:41, Wed 04 Oct 2017.

Seeing the way to the masked figure open Lanliss seizes his chance, and charges in with his sword swinging. Unfortunately he clangs his sword off the entrance through the door and misses by a mile.

22:30, Today: Lanliss rolled 7 using 1d20+4. attack roll sword.

Silverglade slashes his sword through the air in an attempt to hit the last hobgoblin. He almost misses the air.

23:01, Today: Silverglade rolled 3 using 1d20+2. To hit (sword).

Sherborne waves (literally apparently) at the closest hobgoblin.


16:40, Today: Sherborne rolled 11 using 1d20+2.  Attack on hobgoblin.
17:36, Today: Sherborne rolled 4 using 1d6+2.  damage.

Like a scene from a gnomish comedy, Albricht and the others all tried to enter into the room at the same time while swinging weapons and trying to eliminate the remaining threats. "We can't all go for the same foe you goblin-brained gravel scuffing bucket-heads!" The old dwarf barked as he himself tried to bash the hob, finding his magical mace nearly braining Sherborne!


Assuming a miss, rolled 11 to hit (AC8)

Despite the fact that the hobgoblins are frozen in place, none of the party members manage further damage to them.

Seeing this, both Elboc and Vsaati take aim at the masked man.

18:40, Today: Dungeon Master, on behalf of Vsaati, rolled 18 using 1d20+4.  Attack Roll.
18:40, Today: Dungeon Master, on behalf of Vsaati, rolled 2 using 1d4+1.  Damage Roll.

18:39, Today: Dungeon Master, on behalf of Elboc Ice Eyes, rolled 11 using 1d20+2.  Attack Roll.

Like the other elves, Elboc's attack goes wide, but Vsaati manages to get some small amount of damage in on the seeming leader of the group.

Seeing his henchmen halted by the spell, the masked man takes a step back, draws his mace, casts a spell on it, and begins to look for targets among the party.


18:50, Today: Dungeon Master rolled 1 using 1d6.  Monster's Initiative.
18:50, Today: Dungeon Master rolled 6 using 1d6.  Party's Initiative.

<OK, guys, it's your turn again...>

Sherborne apparently learned from his last attempt and lands solidly this time.

09:50, Today: Sherborne rolled 5 using 1d6+2.  Damage.
09:49, Today: Sherborne rolled 19 using 1d20+2.  Attack on hobgoblin.

Silverglade fumes at how clumsy his last swing made him look. So this time he rushes up to the  man and lunges, driving his sword past the man's guard.

23:17, Today: Silverglade rolled 7 using 1d8+2. Damage (sword).
23:16, Today: Silverglade rolled 21 using 1d20+2. To hit (sword).

Sherborne's strike fells one of the unmoving hobgoblins, leaving only three, and two of those are injured.

Silverglade strikes the masked man, and he soaks up the damage like a sponge, seemingly still in good health, and only slightly injured.

Roak recovers and runs one of the frozen hobgoblins through, and then moves past him to threaten the evil one!

That's more like it--natural 20, auto-hit for 7 hp damage. The move up next to Robe-Guy's evil brother.

19:00, Today: Roak The Quick rolled 7 using 1d8+2.  Damage.
19:00, Today: Roak The Quick rolled 22 using 1d20+2.  Attack a hobgoblin with magic sword!

Voran, encouraged by Silverglade's hit, flings his stone at the evil one, shouting, "This is from your brother!" The stone strikes the man soundly....

Hits AC 0 for 5 damage!

19:02, Today: Elder Voran rolled 5 using 1d4+1.  Damage.
19:02, Today: Elder Voran rolled 19 using 1d20+1.  Sling stone at evil cleric.

Encouraged by the masked man's vulnerability, Vsaati continued to harry the dark priest with her dagger, dancing around lightly on the balls of her feet as the blade flickered right, then left, high then low, all with a grim smile upon her face.  When she spied an opening her hand flashed out, the gleaming blade it held seeking the enemy's chest.


OOC:

20:15, Today: Vsaati rolled 17 using 1d20+1.  Attack dark priest.
20:15, Today: Vsaati rolled 2 using 1d4+1.  Damage to dark priest.

Roak neatly and completely dispatches on of the remaining hobgoblins.  Not to be outdone, Elder Voran gave him a solid smack upside his head. Vsaati too him momentary distraction as an opportunity to dart in and strike.  Her hit was on target, but a quick flinch back on the part of the masked man kept it from injuring him quite as much as it might otherwise have done.

Having been injured several times, the masked man's confidence seems a bit shaken, and he is obviously bleeding from several injuries.

Hoping to similarly take advantage of an enemy back on its heels, Elboc looses a arrow shaft at him, but the chaotic nature of the combat causes him to miss.

17:43, Today: Dungeon Master, on behalf of Elboc Ice Eyes, rolled 4 using 1d20+2.  Attack Roll.

<Albricht and Lanliss?>

The gambling table seemed to have reverse-aged the dwarf by several centuries. "Yer keepin' me from me gamblin'!" he barked at the masked figure, his voice shifting into the brogue more often associated with his mountain cousins far, far away. He stepped to the side, pivoted, ducked, and launched into a very dangerous sort of spin that was so off balance that it surely looked to send him careening into the wall! At the last moment, the sandaled feet made a very quick shuffle - nothing short of amazing for the old desert fossil - and the mace slammed toward the foeman!

Hit AC5 for 7 Damage.

Albricht's furious strike produces a sense of awe in all those watching him, inasmuch for its terrible and damaging violence as for its seeming inadvisability and threat to fellow party members.  Topping this all off is the fact that only the masked foe seems to have been injured, and that almost mortally.

<Lanliss?>

Lanliss sweeps forward and neatly finishes the masked man.

07:21, Today: Dungeon Master, on behalf of Lanliss, rolled 20 using 1d20+4.  Attack Roll.
07:21, Today: Dungeon Master, on behalf of Lanliss, rolled 9 using 1d8+4.  Damage Roll.

The two remaining hobgoblins look about them in a panic, only able to move their eyes, otherwise completely unmoving, held in place by the spell that originated from Elder Voran's disembodied guest.

<PCs turn again...>

See the hobgoblins out of the battle for the moment Sherborne attempts to swat the masked guy but isn't able to find the connection.


09:03, Today: Sherborne rolled 10 using 1d20+2.  Attack on masked guy.
hit AC9 - I assume that's a miss

Roak kicks the fallen masked man and moves back to the hobgoblins, but his blow at the helpless hobgoblin misses.

Move back to hobgoblin now that Masked Guy is dead. Miss.
16:32, Today: Roak The Quick rolled 6 using 1d20+2 with rolls of 4.  on hobgoblin.

Voran thinks to his internal guest, Now you may rest in peace, fellow. Then, by contrast to Roak,  he hits a goblin square in the forehead with his sling stone...

Hit AC 0 for 4 damage on one of the hobgoblins.

16:33, Today: Elder Voran rolled 4 using 1d4+1 with rolls of 3.  Damage.
16:32, Today: Elder Voran rolled 19 using 1d20+1 with rolls of 18.  at hobgoblin.

Albricht recovered from his spinning smasheroo and began a good old-fashioned bouncing backhand on the last of the hobgoblins. The only problem was that he was still just a bit dizzy...

"Gah! Kez'kurrak!" He swore.

Hit AC6 for 7 damage.

With the dark priest felled Vsaati turned her attention to helping the others clean up the frozen hobgoblins.  Not concerned if her companions thought less of her, she slipped in behind one of the motionless creatures and stabbed smoothly at it with her dagger.


OOC:

20:14, Today: Vsaati rolled 18 using 1d20+1.  Attack hobgoblin.
20:15, Today: Vsaati rolled 5 using 1d4+1.  Base Damage.

Not sure about backstab damage rules in Red Book.  Base damage is 5.  If the rule is double damage from backstabs, make it 10!  :)

Between Elder Voran, Albricht, and Vsaati, the two remaining hobgoblins fall, silently. The masked gamblers in the other room finally seem to take notice of this, hastily gather a few coins, and run out of the room in a panic.  Even so, some of them seem to be panicking for all the wrong reasons, with little connection to the violence that was so recently in front of them.

Elder Voran gets a sense of thanks, followed by the loss of the sense of another in his being.  Demetrius has departed.

Voran sighs. "Demetrius, the man in the robe, has gone to his rest. Now, let's plunder these fallen enemies, shall we?"

He turns and nods to Albricht. "Sorry about your gambling session, Albricht."

Roak wastes no time at Voran's suggestion and searches the bodies and the room for valuables.

The search of the room yields the chainmail armor that the masked man was wearing, along with his mask.  Each of the six (6) hobgoblins were wearing leather armor, carried a shield, and a longsword.  In the outer room are several types of dice and cards, although no complete sets when examined further.  The gamblers also left behind 3000sp, 5000gp, six (6) pieces of jewelry, and 26 gems in their haste to leave.

The party divides up the gold and silver so they can carry it easily!

When this is done, Roak moves quietly back to the door to the room with the worshipers and peeks in to see what happened with them when their ostensible high priest bought it...