Amongst a number of garbled grunts and expletives, Griswold tries to find sure footing as he tumbles head over toe.

OOC
19:35, Today: Griswold Ortmann rolled 21 using 1d20+3.  Dexterity Save - Whoops.

Wrenn did his best to find a safe path through the area, keeping an eye out for traps and trips, and hoping that intelligence might prevail where brawn had failed.

"Lady Arizima, what do you think about cutting a path through over here?"

A Help may get that one pushed to a success, if we can do it after the fact.

14:57, Today: Wrenn Muernig rolled 14 using 1d20+6.  Investigation.

Arizima looks down clearly holding back laughter as she checks on Griswold.  "I appreciate a comedy of errors as much as the next person but perhaps next time we should simply try a rope." She glances Wrenn's direction when he speaks before following the path of his gaze down the gully. "Perhaps.  Maybe if we anchor ourselves there and use that impression as a bit of an impromptu resting point to gather our bearings before progressing further downward?"

I'm guessing a 21 succeeds so Arizima isn't too worried.  If I can I'll help Wrenn to add +2 to his rolls.

"The place is supposed to be long deserted, right? Only some old traps that we have to be careful of." Kharash asnwered Griswold as he approached a sturdy tree; encircled it, inspected it, and tied a rope around it. He then walked towards the edge of the gully and threw the other end of the rope down, having it land next to Griswold. He crouched and offered a strong supporting hand. "Who's next? I'll help you get down the rope."

---

OOC: Kharash is offering help to anyone wanting to go down the gully.

Between Griswold gracefully saving himself and the headwork of the others, your group is able to safely navigate to the vine covered entrance. The entrance is little more than a collapsed section of wall, remaining open through the years by virtue of the solid craftsmanship around it. It brings you into a flagstone hallway. Looking back you can see that the area where the mound would be has been professionally collapsed in.

Further down the hallway, you can see what appears to be the flickering light of a fire as the hallway gives way to a room.

Spotting the flickering firelight in the distance Arizima makes her way softly across the floor doing her best to avoid the dancing light across the hall as she closes in.  At one point she stops and tilts her head and seems to stifle a laugh before nodding softly to herself and skipping gently past a particularly bright spot.  Finally she makes it and does her best to peer into the room unseen.


I don't think anyone is configured for stealth so I figured I would go with the decent dex inspiration and lack of heavy armor.  Feel free to assist.
20:10, Today: Arizima rolled 15 using 2d20+2, dropping the lowest dice only.  Stealth (Advantage).

Arizima pokes her head into the room quite unseen. The room looks devoid of people, though the shadows play across several small skeletons in several places. The light is coming from a large brazier in the center of the room. A quick glance about shows that the room is roughly 20 feet to a side and each wall is cover in murals. Arizima is unable to garner more from her current location.

Arizima slips back to the group and gives them a quick nod of her head.  "There are murals all across the walls though I couldn't make them out without stepping into the room itself.  There are also several small skeletons strewn about the place.  It's possible the room is a trap of some sort so it would likely be best if we entered as a group."

Kharash nodded at Arizima. "Let's see together then, what this chamber is all about." He walked into the brazier-lit room, and stared at the murals and the skeletons. "Seems we aren't the first ones to be in this place," he looked at the fire. "Probably another group has already found their way inside."

The skeletons appear to be small humanoids, gnome, halfling, or goblin you can't tell without closer inspection. The brazier still burns brightly but strangely gives off no heat. The murals on the walls are slightly dusty, but the colors still come through brightly and paint an epic picture.

Starting on the north wall, a man in half-plate with a faded looking cloak kneels in front of a regal looking figure. Ancient Kriegian script, elaborate in nature and well carved into the wall, can be found at the bottom.

We are the Order of Delius

The east wall depicts the same man astride a destrier with a lance, banners of scarlet and purple raised high by the men behind him. They are mid-charge into a mass of hobgoblins and goblins, looking ever more like the knightly orders leading a campaign. Another line of script appears at the bottom.

We are the agent of Light.

The south wall shows the man holding aloft a fist in defiance of what can only be described as a dragon. Large wings cast a shadow over the man as he plunges his sword into the breast of the black beast. Once again the script appears.

We are those who turn the tide of Chaos.

The west wall paints a morose picture. The man is being carted on a litter away from the corpse of the dragon. A blood stained hand from the man hands his distinct sword to another man. Blood covers the one on the litter and it is not clear how much belongs to him or the dragon. A final line of script.

We swear to fight for those that cannot themselves.

You can see that there are a few sets of footprints in the dust that lead to a small alcove. A small passageway starts there as well, with no other way out besides the way you came. Over the alcove is another line of script.

From now, until I can no longer, my sword is so pledged.

Griswold entered the room and immediately pointed to the murals declaring: "Hah!  See, I knew there had to be some around here somewhere."  He walked in, gaze drifting between the scenes, until his foot knocked against something.

The skull rolled a short distance, accompanied by a hollow scraping sound.  Griswold stopped as a serious expression crossed his face.  There he stood for a few moments, eyes passing between the murals, text, skeletons and archway a few times, before turning to Kharash.

"Well, venerable Watcher, if another group has already been here, they didn't do this."  He pointed to the bones and turned to the party's cleric.  "Good Brother Sul, I understand that men of the cloth often study medicine.  Might you have?"  His pointing hand become a questioning gesture, "Or anyone else?  I think we should try to find out how and when these poor creatures died, if possible."

Then his attention moved to the archway.

"That seems a little too easy.  The bodies may help us understand why.  And perhaps these murals are more than just a recounting of the old order's tenants?  They may be clues for what, if anything, lies beyond."

Then, catching himself, he turns to Wrenn.  His serious expression breaking into one of slight embarrassment. "Uh, unless I am being overly paranoid again?"

Like Griswold, Kharash stood there for a few moments, observing the murals and other oddities in this room. "Hmm no, these bones are old," he said to Griswold, "but the dust has been disturbed more recently. Hard to tell how recently, though."

Kharash's natural tendency to get close to any source of heat led him to step closer to the brazier. To his surprise he found the flames to give off little more than just light. He frowned, and wondered for a second. Then, his curiosity seemed to get the better of him, and he quickly moved one hand through the fire - like one would when flicking a finger through the flame of a candle. (If nothing happened, he would then grab a torch from his backpack and try to light it with the brazier's fire.)

"I wouldn't be surprised if there was a meaning behind these words. Especially after our previous trial. If being paranoid saves us from harm, I'm fine with it," Kharash winked jokingly. "Though these murals can also simply be the proper decorations for a knight's tomb." He stared at the alcove. "Let's hope the sword is still here."

"A sword that has slain a dragon..." he said softly.

"I think a certain amount of paranoia is healthy at this point. We can calm down after we've seen more of what this place has to offer. I suspect that flame is not one that can be shared, Kharash, but you could probably take the source of the flame itself and keep it safely tucked away in your pack to be pulled out when needed."

"Everburning flames are easily made, though somewhat expensive. I've not learned the spell myself, but I've seen it done many times."

Wrenn looked around the room, noting the murals and the sayings alongside them. "The way forward is clear, unless anyone feels we should search for hidden doors here rather than taking the obvious."

"Hm, curious." Kharash pulled the torch back from the not-truly burning flames. "I think hauling that thing around would only give us more trouble. A normal torch will do just fine," he smiled to Wrenn. He brought the unlit torch close to his mouth, with one hand cupping it as if to prevent any wind from disturbing it - more out of habit than actual usefulness here, underground. Softly he blew against it, until the most flammable pieces started to glow, soon followed by a small flame that quickly grew to fully light the torch.

He removed the shield from his back, and slid it onto his left arm. "I am ready," he answered Wrenn. And with shield and torch at the ready, he gestured at the most obvious way forward. "Shall we?"

"Surely, esteemed Watcher!  Though, I would still like to know more about these bodies."  Griswold glanced at Brother Sul who, again, made no attempt to move.  "Well," he rolled up his sleeves, "I guess the doctor in the house is right here.  Stand back everyone, this physiological surgeonista needs to operate!"

The half elf bent over the bodies and started to 'sciencepifically' examine them.  By the time he had finished and called for Wrenn to swab his brow at least seventeen times, he stood back to reveal his masterpiece:  the skeleton of a miniature pony-man-hydra-thing?


OOC
Medicine to attempt to identify the cause of death for these bodies and, if possible, the species.
01:32, Today: Griswold Ortmann rolled 18 using 1d20-1.  Medicine - DIY Forensicals!
18? :O That was unexpected!

An inspection of the skeletons leads to Griswold making good on his jovial treatment of them. Among the piles, at least eight different sets can be determined. All appear to be goblinoid in nature, two being hobgoblins and the rest their small goblin kin. Nicks on the bones point to a violent death by sword or spear and one rib still has part of an arrowhead embedded in it.

It is about this time a muffled set of voices can be heard by all and quickly followed by the sounds of a scuffle coming from down the passageway.

OOC:Next update Wednesday afternoon. Please have actions in by then.

Arizima's head swings toward the passageway with a look of curiosity.  Her fingers twitch with anticipation as they dance across the worn leather surface of her unmarked tome.  "Fascinating as all this is perhaps we should look into that altercation before someone else joins the dead."  She swings her gaze back to the others before hurrying toward the passageway.  "Shall we?"


Moving toward the passageway to investigate.  I'll stop if no one else follows.

Griswold steps ahead of Arizima.  "Allow me."

Kharash turned around at the sound of people approaching. "Another group?" he whispered to his companions. Even still, he kept his eyes focused on the hallway, and stepped next to Griswold with his shield and torch at the ready.

As the noise of others approaching became clear to him, Wrenn watched as the rest of his own group moved into position. Wrenn stayed toward the back of the group, opposite the passageway filled with voices. Best not to have an arcanist do the talking in these parts, and if there was to be a scuffle with goblins or some other unsavory creatures, he'd want to be far away from the front lines regardless.

As you prepare for the worse coming down the passageway, you see the form of Gerard, the massive youth of the local group. Up close, you see that he is massive, already closer to seven than six feet tall and likely still has more to grow. A well-made ax and some studded leather mark his arms and armor. What seems to be more critical is that an unconscious Farrissa cradled in his arms. The sounds of a battle become more clear behind him.

She looks even more frail in the giant boys arms. He looks none-the-less perturbed at the presence of five well equipped adventurers in front of him. He does stop for a moment looking down at the girl in his arms. His voice rumbles like a wagon on a dirt road, gravely and heavy. "Chris buys time for her escape. You will not stop me," his tone giving the statement gravity not expected from one so young. Despite his brave words, he does not move forward past Kharash and Griswold.

Griswold's training kicks in.  He immediately springs into action, slipping past the big lad whilst drawing his shield and rapier.

"You've done well." He calls out as he passes.  "I'll help Chris.  Let Brother Sul assist Farrissa."

And then he is gone.
This message was last edited by the player at 03:43, Thu 23 Nov 2017.

Arizima watches Griswold rush down the hall with amusement before patting the massive man on the forearm sympathetically.  "There there.  I'm certain one of them can help your friend."  She lets the man go and begins to hurry down the path after the would be knight with a wave and a smile on her face.  "Not me though.  My talents are better served rending the enemies of self sacrificing idiots.  Best of luck to you!" With those last few hurried words she breaks into a run with a small concernedly unconcerned laugh rushing to catch up with Griswold and the battle.

"Why would we stop you?" Kharash looked serious. "Tell me quickly, what is down there?"

With a touch much gentler than would be expected from the rough clawed hand, Kharash stroked the side of the unconscious girl's head - sending a stream of healing energy through it. "Now hurry and get her to safety!" He then hurried after Griswold and Arizima.

As he ran, he once more opened up his senses to the forces of good and evil.

---

Lay on hands of 1 HP on Farissa (9 left).
And using Divine sense.

Gerard gives little more than a glance down the hallway, only answering Kharash's last question. "More than we bargained for," the massive boy said with sadness. He looked down at Farrissa, the girl looking slightly better than before Kharash laid hands on her. Brother Sul motioned for others to go, his duties currently to tend to the ailing Farrissa.

What you find when you move down the passageway are more skeletons of goblinoids, long dead in battles forgotten. The battle taking place currently can be heard with evermore clarity as you quickly come to the end of the hallway. The scene before you is chaotic. Chris is locked in battle with Roland. The fair-haired fighter is doing his best to keep back the viscount's son, but bears the marks of several wounds.

As you look around at something other than the battle, the passageway has opened up into a large room, about forty feet long and twenty feet wide. At the far end is a statue reminiscent of the man from the murals. Several more skeletons mark the previous battle in this room. Kyle, the last of the local group, is standing next to statue, looking terrified.

OOC: Roll Initiative. Anyone that beats an 11 can act before Roland.