Elam nods at the request and stays guard.

Sarah has a vague idea . . .

OOC: Funny thing, if you put in '20' and not 'd20,' the result is a 20.


07:42, Today: Sarah rolled 9 using 1d20 with rolls of 9.  Wisdom (10).

Ovo devotes most of his mental faculties ensuring his companions do not accidentally stumble into any of the structural hazards that now litter their trek back into the ruined stronghold. A single false could step could spell the end and Ovo takes his duties with great responsibility.

Retracing their steps, the party sees no evidence of any living enemies within the Fane. Many of the sidechambers, adjoining rooms, and the like have completely collapsed. It's truly a wonder the adventurers were able to escape this destruction. Having not seen any evidence of their missing companions, they eventually reach the chasm that now prevents easy access to the lower levels of the Fane. The chasm has no ripped even wider than the 10-foot span Ovo previously jumped across and is now easily 50 feet wide--virtually impossible to jump across without magical means.

Heat and fumes waft up from the chasm. Its source? A river of lava now flowing beneath the ruined Fane. Safely climbing across the span, via the ceiling would be very difficult. There are plenty of hand and footholds, but the ceiling is such weakened state, it looks as though all it would take it the smallest of pressure for entire sections of ceiling to tumble into the chasm and lava below.

Peering down into the glow of this latest obstacle, to look for other options Sarah notices something on a narrow ledge, 20 feet or so below. Not something! Someone!

Vaxfar!

She sees the elf sprawled out, prone, perched precariously over the ledge. He does not appear to be moving.

"Found him!" Sarah says as she looks to evaluate the risk of trying to climb down.  "Anyone have any rope left?"

OOC: I had rope when we started, but have no idea if mine was used to get up to the Wyrmlord.
This message was last edited by the player at 14:14, Thu 03 June 2021.

The cone of silence surrounding Ovo meercifully ends, enabling party members to converse once more.

Ovo replies to Sarah's query, "I left me rope up there when I went after Kul."

Grub offers his reply in characteristic slurred fashion, "My rope is...was...floating up there in the shaft."

Dame Daflin realized she shouldn't have drank that last potion.  Even if someone could get down there, they wouldn't be able to revive him for the climb out.  Without rope, they couldn't even haul him out if someone did reach him.

"We need some way to lower me down there," she said, looking around.  "Grub, is there anything in your magic bag that could help?"

Failing that, they'd need to search back through the rubble for anything they could use.

Grub retrieves the bag of tricks and pulls out a fluffy ball. He tosses it on the ground and the ball slowly inflates into a live, breathing skunk. The rogue cannot help but laugh.

"Probably not what you were thinking," he whispers.

Murph lowly growls when she notices the skunk, to which Grub issues an admonishment and puts himself between dog and skunk.

The skunk sort of sniffs around a bit, but otherwise seems to take a liking to Grub and patiently waits to do the man's bidding. Murph looks at the skunk with some degree of jealousy in her eyes and edges closer to her master, just to make it clear who was there first.

"We could make a rope. I once made one out of my trousers and a bedsheet in Dennovar, escap...." he catches himself and cuts off the rest, a sheepish look on his face.

Sarah instinctively shoots a look at Grub, but says nothing.

Getting over whatever shock she was experiencing, she says softly: "I unloaded some of my stuff before we fought the Wyrmlord, but I still have this . . . If we're making rope, maybe it'll help."

She produces a large cloth sack.

OOC: Anyone seen "Time Bandits?"

"I do have a bedroll," she says quickly as she slung around her haversack to pull it out.  She was always grateful about how much it could carry.  Perhaps she should have fit in an extra rope.

Thinking about extra rope, she knew they had more back where they'd left the mules.  They shouldn't have left for home as it hadn't yet been three days.  Though, perhaps, counting days wasn't a mule's forte.

[Private to GM: msg #180 Directions to mules.]

"I have bedroll too . . . and my armor, if it helps.  I don't really need it."

Regardless of whether the offer of her armor is accepted, she takes it off.  At a minimum, it makes her cooler.

Between the rescue party, there is more than enough cloth and leather to fashion a crude rope and harness that can be used to lift Vaxfar out from his precarious location. Presumably, they get to work and do so and have a workable solution a few minutes later.

Now, someone just needs to climb to get down to Vaxfar to attempt the extraction...

"I still have a little of Avandra's strength left to heal him if he lives," Dame Daflin said to the others.  "You should lower me down to do what I can."

"Lend a hand then, Grub, Sarah," Ovo says while grabbing the rope and preparing to help Eoni into the harness and lower the cleric down to Vaxfar.

The combined strength of the three adventurers is more than enough to safely lower Eoni down to the ledge where Vaxfar lay. There isn't much space on the ledge but, Eoni manages to situate her beside the unconscious elf. He is badly injured, but not beyond Eoni's skill to revive.
This message was last edited by the GM at 23:47, Thu 03 June 2021.

"He's still alive!" the Sister called back up to the others.  Closing her eyes, she intoned a Blessing of Avandra upon the persistent elf.

OOC: Eoni Daflin rolled 8 using 2d6+2.  Cure serious wounds, Vaxfar.

Deep beneath the sundered ruin of the Fane of Tiamat, perched atop a meager ledge within a deep chasm plunging to a river of lava below, Eoni huddles over her unconscious companion and calls upon Avandra's favor once more. Whether it is the glow of the river below, or Avandra's boon, a warm glow spread from Eoni's hands to Vaxfar's immobile form.

Moments later, Vaxfar's eyes flutter open. Through blurry vision and echoed tones, the elf sees an indistinct shape and hears a woman's voice. Then, she comes into focus...

Vaxfar, battered and burned, nearly no less grim or ugly than usual though, lips his blackened lips, and coughs.  With a hoarse voice, "Madame, next time you invite me on one of your adventures, let's go somewhere nice....deal?"

"I go where I'm needed and it's seldom nice," Dame Daflin replied with a smile.  "It's good to see you're still alive.  Now don't roll off the edge here while they haul me up and lower the rope back down for you."

She used the word rope rather generously for their contrived sling.

"Pull me up!" she called up to the others as she held on tightly.

Strength isn't Sarah's long suit, but she does what she can -- although she'll make way for stronger folk if there is insufficient room for all to help.

Ovo waits until given the command and the does as instructed. Hauling Eoni up the chasm is trivial for the burly dwarf, especially with Grub and Sarah's aid.

Once Eoni is top-side, Ovo lowers the improvised rope back down to Vaxfar and calls down, "Elves and yer naps. Ye think ye could have found a less convenient place to knock off fer a bit?" His tone is grim and disapproving, but his eyes are quite mirthful and he might even favor Vaxfar with the hint of a smile.

As Vaxfar helps steady Eoni's climb back up, the grim elf says, "ah, the silence spell has worn off, this day just keeps getting better".

Ovo pulls Vaxfar up from the chasm. As soon as the elf is free of the hazard, he asks, "Did you see Rogar?"

Vaxfar nods, "He fell near to me,  even as I lost consciousness, a tremor shook him over the edge into the fires below, he is gone"

"Hmm," Ovo says while peering down into chasm, the lava reflecting off his dark eyes. He turns his gaze to Dame Daflin.

Grun approaches the chasm, looks down, and sadly shakes his head. "Sorry pal," is all he can think to say.