The tapestry. An object of myth and legend. A magical item older than recorded history, and a focal point of many wars through the ages. Within its threads is an entire world of twisting passages and environments, villages and ecosystems. Great beasts and miraculous magics grace its halls. Many heroes have been forged in the tapestry, and many more would-be heroes have perished.

You and your companions were being led to this legendary tapestry now, by several authorities of the kobold army, envoys of the dragons. In the crumbling brown stone ruins of a lost civilization, the five of you were led down a spiraling stone staircase, deep underground. The ancient steps were well worn from countless centuries of use. The footing was precarious, especially since the only sources of illumination were the torches held aloft by your escorts. After what felt like an excessive amount of time descending, the group finally came to a landing where double wooden doors barred the way. The wood seemed to be crumbling, and the hinges rusty, but they swung open without making so much as a creek.

And the sight beyond them was breathtaking.

The tapestry itself was at least four stories tall, and twice as wide, suspended in the center of a room the size of a gladiatorial arena. Unlike the stone ruins outside, this place was not composed of crumbling stone and weather-worn wood. The floor and walls were composed of a dark grey metal, smooth as polished stone. It had thin strands of tight-knit light that permeated its surface, traversing the floor parallel to each other, constantly taking sharp corners in unison. Occasionally these strands of light would pulse ever so slightly, giving the room an eerie breathing feeling.

Additionally, while there were countless tales of the tapestry and what awaited within, there were scant few about its loom. Everyone knew it was surrounded by a magical loom that constantly altered the tapestry's threads, but it was rare that anyone tried to describe it. But how could they?

The loom itself took up most of the room. It easily extended out from the tapestry a good 100 paces or more. It consisted of countless thin wooden tendrils, hinged in dozens of places, all extending up out of the floor to heights taller than the tapestry itself. There were hundreds, maybe thousands of them, all working in unison. They poked and prodded the tapestry with needles, weaving and unveaving its threads. For each tendril, there was an associated spool of thread hovering somewhere within the mass of the loom. There were typical threads of all colors, made of wool, or cotton, or silk. But then there were also threads made of stranger materials. Threads of pure gold, or sticky honey. Threads made of shadow, and threads of bone. The varieties were endless. And when all combined together, they created the artwork that was your destination.

"Come this way," a gruff voice called out. The sudden noise was almost jarring. It wasn't obvious until now, but nobody had said a peep since entering the room. The voice originated from a dwarven man standing across the room. He was dressed in regal garb bearing the crests of the Galdrik nation. He wasn't royalty, but he certainly possessed authority.

"As you know, according to the... agreement, of the three warring nations, we have each decided to allow the others to assemble a neutral party to send into the tapestry for research purposes. My own nation has bravely gone in first. Now it is your turn. Follow along this path through the loom, hold hands, then touch the tapestry. You will be transported inside. Take note of the symbol that appears at your feet, as you will need to find an identical symbol within the tapestry in order to exit again. The exits are not common, but do exist." Before questions could be asked, or in spite of them, the dwarven man ushered the group forward without another word.

While it was true the loom surrounded the entire tapestry, it turned out there was a sort of tunnel through the mass of wooden tendrils. It was made of these tendrils, in fact. As the group crouched and walked through, they could feel the floor undulate slightly as they walked atop the moving pieces of the loom. Looking down into the gaps between pieces, it was obvious that the magical apparatus extended for quite some distance beneath the floor as well.

Then the tapestry came into view, no longer obscured by objects in the way, save for one small segment that was being autonomously worked on by the loom. The colors, the intricacies! It was like nothing anyone had ever seen. The patterns on the tapestry told a story. A complex, incomprehensible story that needed to be read in dozens of directions simultaneously. It was almost too much to even look at, much less understand. But the way every thread interacted with each other thread produced an undeniably beautiful result.

Then, following the dwarf's instructions, the group joined together and touched the tapestry.

And the world went dark.

---

The first thing the party noticed was their feet sinking into a few inches of thick mud, followed closely by the soggy smell of decaying plant matter. As their eyes adjusted to the gloom of their new environment, they could see they were in a swampy area with tar-like mud and stagnant pools of shallow water, and the occasional toadstool poking through the muck. To the sides were tall rocky outcroppings and scraggly trees that seemed to be struggling to remain upright. Above and around them was a thick and humid fog that glowed with a pale blue haze, making any sky or ceiling impossible to see. Below them was a glowing arcane rune, quickly dissipating.

From behind the party, a low chittering sound pierced the silence. Turning toward the sound, the group of adventurers could see a figure emerging from the mists. A large figure. At least as tall as two humans. And ferocious. It walked on four thin legs as it scuttled closer, and it clacked four crab-like pincers around its abdomen. But while the lower half seemed to be crab, the upper half was that of a praying mantis. Its antennae wiggled in the air as it searched for whatever had suddenly appeared in its hunting territory. Then, its head snapped sharply toward the party and it charged.

As it surged forward, its crab claws clacked hungrily, and its mantis arms reached forward toward the people it thought were prey. It even beat its wings rapidly, apparently trying to use them to give it a bit of extra speed. All it really did though was create an unnerving hum. If the party didn't act fast, they would surely end up as this abomination's next meal.

What do you do?

---

An enormous crab-mantis has mistaken your group for food and is rushing toward you.

Twessa
Your gnome eyes adjusted to the darkness more quickly than the other's. When you first appeared within the tapestry, you were able to spot a figure out in the mists. It quickly slipped out of view, but what type of person or creature did it appear to be?

Gania
In your search to find a way to sever your connection to your inner flames, you have encountered many different types of magics. Including magic that had combined two animals like this crab-mantis. Although the animal you saw was nowhere near as large or ferocious. What was it, and what type of magic is the cause of its creation? (natural, ritualistic, spellcaster, potion, etc.)

Istvan
This beast is covered in a tough exoskeleton, but every armor has its weak spot. Where is this creature's weak spot?

Atalanta
The mushrooms sprouting from the muck are familiar to you, and they have a use. Are they helpful or harmful, and what can they be used for?

Harlin
Your keen elvish nose, and the nose of your cat, can pick out a scent that definitely seems out of place in this murky environment. What do you smell?

20:58, Today: Istvan Vanoson rolled 4 using 2d6+2 ((1,1)). (Marked 1 xp)

Istvan knew where the creature was least-armored-- its eyes! Istvan charged forward and went for the creature's eyes, preparing a spell to not only stab the thing in the eye, but to do flaming damage and--

--Oops. Slipped.

In a ridiculous moment of incredibly bad luck, Istvan's foot made a very bad faux-pas as Istvan tried and failed to hop up on the creature's chitin and therefore reach one or both of the mantis' eyes, and he ended up failing to hurt the beast at all, let alone where it was most vulnerable.

Istvan was standing flat-footed in point-blank range of a lot of trouble. "Helllllllllllp!" Istvan screamed...
This message was last edited by the player at 22:19, Fri 11 Jan 2019.

As she felt her feet slide into what at first felt like fresh fallen snow, Twessa blinked in surprise at what she saw. Yes, there was a giant shelled thing here, but...there had been a someone, seemingly covered in mud, and moving the way she'd seen would-be thieves move in the big cities. The thieves she'd been briefly harrassed by had been mostly halflings, each soon identifiable by their bloodied noses, but this one's gait was different...Twessa would've sworn it had been a gnome, but why would another gnome be here? And who could it be?

Back in the Dellinzer Crevasse there weren't many who could be described as the adventurous kind. Burrows were warm, fungi and fish were plentiful, and the odd gem or two sent south with the traders paid for the other little comforts like woolen blankets and elven wine. The world beyond the rift was cold, her mother had warned, and so were the people...and only fools would ignore a wise parent's warning. And Twessa, of course. And maybe someone else...

Enough of that.

While Twessa been patiently waiting for one of her more worldly companions to tell her how to deal with the crusty thing blocking their path, Istvan had got himself into trouble. She sighed. He seemed good natured for a human, and was sometimes utterly deadly when he seized the advantage...but then, sometimes, something like this happened.

Twessa waded through the muck and stood alongside the fallen duelist; she wasn't the sort to let misfortune end a friend's run. She sternly faced down the creature, bracing her fishing spear for an impending attack by the beast.

"EXCUSE ME...", the gnome shouted as politely and urgently as she could to her companions. "WHAT IS THIS THING, PLEASE?"

---

Using a Defend action to save Istvan from the worst

03:40, Today: Twessa Dumdellin rolled 8 using 2d6+1.  Defending Istvan from the pain he's due!

1 hold earned, which I can spend if the creature attacks Istvan or Twessa. (I will probably use it to halve the damage FYI)

This message was last edited by the player at 17:23, Fri 11 Jan 2019.

Gania looked around the chamber they found themselves in as she moved her feet around to stop them from sinking too deep. And it proved a good idea considering the unwelcomed welcome they were getting. The focus on the dwarf's suggestion was almost completely pushed away by the monster's appearance. She did have enough presence of mind to suggest to other "See the rune!"

She had other things to deal with. She moved after Istvan and Twessa, readying her sword as she watched the monstrosity. "Chimera!" she replied to the gnome, unsure if the name she heard would mean anything "From a failed ritual." There were many rituals that mages of all kinds practiced, and a lot of them required sacrifices. But when the rites were not performed right, the would me sacrifices were turned, or merged, into chimeras like this.

And then the time for talking was gone and they found themselves toe to claw with the creature. Seeing that the gnome, as unlikely as she found it, stood over her clansman, Gania went on the offense. With a heedless strike, she sought to force the chimera back.


19:39, Today: Gania Flamekeeper rolled 7 using 2d6+2.  Hack the chimera.
19:40, Today: Gania Flamekeeper rolled 3 using 1d10+1.  Damage.
Forceful blow - knock it back. Also messy, but probably too early for that.

"...Yeah, that's not natural at all." Atalanta commented after they've reemerged from the tapestry. The thing was obviously made, not born, but by whom or for what purpose, she couldn't tell. "Be careful of the mushrooms." she told her companions when she saw the mushroom in the muck and recognized it immediately. "If you like to keep your mind intact, that is." commonly known as the corpse-puppeteer, the fungi can evade the body of a creature, dead or alive, and slowly turn it into a moving corpse. It's a favorite for necromancer-overlord-wannabes who have neither the intellect for arcane study nor the devotion to serve a deity of death.

It also ranks as their most common cause of death.

"Well, it looks like a mantis...crab...thingy to me." Atalanta said, unnecessarily, in answer to Twessa's question. "So much packaging, so little meat..." she sighed while calmly examining the creature, seemingly unperturbed by Istvan's impeding peril; after all, the spirits warmed her of a great danger that would befall him, so there's no way he'd die from anything less, right? Calling upon the spirits of her home to lend her the strength to defeat her enemies, she transformed herself into a muscular bull, ready to charge at the monstrosity.

...Unless, of course, this is the great danger that would befall him...

OOC: Shapeshift: Atalanta rolled 10 using 2d6+2 ((3,5)). Hold 3.
This message was last edited by the player at 18:48, Fri 11 Jan 2019.

A bog, that was clear enough. A mantis-crab thing, that was clear enough. But that smell?

Disregarding it for the moment, Harlin saw Istvan go down and need help. In an eyeblink, Harlin loosed an arrow at the thing--which bounced harmlessly off its chitin. Worse, Harlin couldn't focus on the danger while trying to identify the smell. Then he had it: It was fresh-cut hay. Wonderingly, he looked around for the source of this mystery.

Fail. Suggestion: -1 forward from distraction. Marked XP.

16:21, Today: Harlin Greenarrow rolled 5 using 2d6+2.  Volley vs chimera.

The moment Istvan slipped, the crab-mantis was already reaching for him with one of its crab claws around its abdomen. It would have gotten a good squeeze on him too if Twessa hadn't shown up just in time to deflect the blow. As the pincer pinched, it only got ahold of cloth instead of flesh, but it did still leave a deep gash on the duelist's hip as it ripped into the fabric.

Then, against the same crab claw that Twessa deflected, Gania stepped in with a powerful strike of her own even as the beast reached down with its mantis arms. The woman's sword bit deep into the flesh of the beast's armored claw arm, and the crab-mantis staggered back as the appendage went flying away from its body. It seemed surprised that it had experienced pain, but still managed to give Gania a good gash with a mantis claw as a defensive reaction. The beast paused as if considering if it actually wanted to eat the gnome and two Emberstorm tribe members or not, then turned toward the bovine with lion ears that had appeared instead. It began moving in Atalanta's direction, but kept a defensive eye on the other three.

Meanwhile, the claw that Gania had severed and sent flying landed in the mud near Harlin. Right in a patch of corpse-puppeteer mushrooms. As the elf searched for the source of the hay smell, the claw twitched as the spores of the magical mushrooms did what they did best. Just as Harlin spotted a small patch of fresh hay that looked as if it had fallen from up above the rocky outcropping, he heard the wet squelching of the big crab arm twitching toward him through the mud, like an inchworm from hell.

What do you do?

---

Istvan
Take d10+2 damage, 1 piercing. Then divide it by two thanks to Twessa's Defending. You got a little hurt, but managed to avoid being caught in its grasp. You will need to Defy danger if you wish to make a melee attack this time around.

Twessa
I used your 1 Hold to halve the attack on Istvan, as you suggested. You will need to Defy danger if you wish to make a melee attack this time around.

Gania
You severed a claw and drove it back, but took damage in return. Take d10+2 damage, 1 piercing. You will need to Defy danger if you wish to make a melee attack this time around.

Atalanta
The crab-mantis has turned its attention on you and looks like it will soon come your way. What does it look like when you shapeshift?

Your moves for your bull form are:
Gore with horns
Buck and Thrash
Charge!

Harlin
I went for a different response to your roll, so no penalty. However, there is a huge reanimated crab arm coming after you now...

20:34, Today: Istvan Vanoson rolled 11 using 1d10+2 ((9)).

(DM, I'm guessing round down? So 4?)

Istvan decided that if he moved fast enough, he might be able to flank the monster, get around behind it and do a freezing attack that would damage its armor so others could fight it better... But first he had to get there...

Defy Danger: 20:36, Today: Istvan Vanoson rolled 7 using 2d6 ((5,2)).

(I'm awaiting the worse outcome, hard bargain, or ugly choice...)

All right, so from what Twessa could gather from what her companions said, this `chimera' didn't present some telltale concern like an exploding head, noxious farts, or turning people to stone. "Thank you!", she called as the chimera swung.

Twessa felt her feet slide backwards as the beast's crab claw caught the tip of her spear and deflected, but fortunately she managed to keep her balance. Phew.

With the immediate threat to a vulnerable Istvan cleared, thanks in part to Atalanta's transformation into another of her menagerie of strange southern creatures, Twessa backed away and looked for someone else to help. The ripples of a snapping claw, scissoring through the ooze, drew Twessa's attention to her good friend, Harlin - an elf she weighed as being more useful attacking the chimera itself rather than dealing with a distraction.

While she tried to intercept the detached claw, waving her spear at it, Twessa reassured the archer. "Please keep shooting, Harlin. I've got this...thing..."

---

Do I still need a Defy Danger roll if Twessa's detaching from the chimera to deal with Harlin's claw buddy?

16:01, Today: Twessa Dumdellin rolled 7 using 2d6+1.  Defend Harlin from the twitching claw.

If the detached claw tries to attack Harlin, Twessa will use her 1 hold to take its attack instead of Harlin taking it. If it chose to attack Twessa instead, she'll use the 1 hold to halve the damage.

"My thanks!" Trusting his friend Twessa to protect him from the immediate danger of the separated claw, Harlin redoubles his attack on the chimera, lofting a quick series of arrows. One of them finds a soft joint between the thing's carapace and (still-attached) claw.

Volley hit for 6.

11:19, Today: Harlin Greenarrow rolled 6 using 1d8.  Damage.
11:19, Today: Harlin Greenarrow rolled 11 using 2d6+2.  Volley.

Looking at it through the eyes of the spirits, the chimera's essence made no sense at all. Not only did the essence not fit its form (which happens with shapeshifters, like Atalanta herself), it was a complete mess of conflicting instincts and behaviors. It's like someone decided to crush up some fried bugs and add them into a bowl of chicken soup: they're both fine dishes on their own, but the flavors just don't work together.

Thinking I'm the easy prey now, don't you? Atalanta hissed as she stamped her hooves deep into the mud to steady her heavy frame, before she charged at the creature with her full speed as a horned beats of the great plains. We'll see who eats who now.

OOC: Charge! Atalanta rolled 6 using 2d6. Not sure what stat I should roll, so I just made an unmodified 2d6 roll to save time. Depends on what stat I should add, this can be interesting...or very interesting.

The gash that the claw made was a deep one. The creature wasn't just large, but quite tough. Gania actually smiled as blood started to trickle down her arm. Adjusting the grip on the sword, she moved in towards the monster, ready to deflect attacks before she came close enough to strike again.

21:56, Today: Gania Flamekeeper rolled 10 using 1d10+2.  Damage.
Ouch...

21:59, Today: Gania Flamekeeper rolled 7 using 2d6+2.  Defy danger (Str) - get close.
Hit me with options before I see if I get to hit it
Will Emberstorms run into one another? Stay tuned!

As Atalanta charged into the crab-mantis, it staggered backward, causing Gania and Istvan to have to change direction quickly. Which was nigh impossible in the thick mud. The two ended up falling to their knees, needing to steady each other for balance as the crab-mantis backed into them and over top of them. The beast was well distracted by the bull charging into it, but its rear crab claws still clacked threateningly, and it could step on either one of them at any moment. It let out a chittering hiss as it engaged Atalanta in combat.

Over by Harlin, Twessa was quick to prod the animated claw with her spear, keeping it from heading further toward the elf. It turned on the gnome instead, however, thrashing through the water and mud to try and grab at the tiny cleric. As she defended herself with her spear, it grasped onto the shaft of her weapon and refused to let go.

---

Istvan
Yeah, you round down, so only 4 damage from that first attack. You got close enough to the crab-mantis to make an attack, but not where you wanted to be. You are directly under it as it fights a bull.

Twessa
The claw turned its attentions on you when you and your weapon got close. With your weapon's reach, you were far enough away that it didn't get ahold of you, but it did grab onto your weapon. Your weapon gains the Clumsy tag until you can get it off (-1 ongoing while using it). I counted this as halving the claw's attack's effect or damage.

Gania
You managed to get close, but are now underneath it instead of where you would have liked to have been.

Atalanta
Charge! let you get in close enough to hit without having to defy danger. Now that you are there, and it sounds like you were intending on attacking, you can either use Hack and Slash (using your roll, which means you got a 7), or expend another Hold to use one of your other bull moves to deal damage without a roll. Either way roll your damage. If you used Hack and slash, take 1d10+2 damage, 1 piercing. If you use a Hold, roll a Defy Danger (or Defend/other move) to avoid a counterattack.

Harlin
Nice shot! You are currently not being targeted by anything, as far as you can tell.

Harlin was torn between the two sites of the melee. And that damned fresh-hay smell was confusing him further. But seeing the claw working its way up his diminutive friend's spear decided him. Drawing his shortsword he moved to Twessa's aid, attempting to pry the claw loose and free her weapon.

Aid Twessa. 8. Twessa gets a +1 on freeing her spear (or using it?). I get danger, retribution, or cost.

21:10, Today: Harlin Greenarrow rolled 8 using 2d6+2.  Aid Twessa.

Once she charged close enough to almost taste the creature's twisted essence, Atalanta raised her head and gored the chimera with her horns, the sharp tips penetrating the chitinous exoskeleton. The monster tried to retaliate, but the thick skin and powerful muscles of the bovine easily toughened through the blow, leaving her nearly unharmed.

OOC:
Spend 1 Hold to Gore With Horns.
Damage: Atalanta rolled 5 using 1d6+1.
Defy Danger by enduring: Atalanta rolled 10 using 2d6+1
This message was last edited by the player at 08:38, Mon 14 Jan 2019.

Gania saw only one way out of the situation. With a heave, she swung upward, hoping to shove the mantis away. But between the thick mud and having to watch for Istvan, it was easier imagined than executed.

10:10, Today: Gania Flamekeeper rolled 1,5 using 1d6,1d8+2.  Conquest slash.
Well, shucks. On the bright side, XP. And no wildfire

Istvan was just about to try to muster his strength to help Gania out of the mud as well as himself, but then she attacked the thing from below. Alllllll right, if she was willing to risk killing the thing and having it fall on her, Istvan was not going to interfere with that. He'd try to get out from under while she was still swinging and missing.

(07:31, Today: Istvan Vanoson rolled 9 using 2d6 ((4,5)).)

Huh. Twessa lifted her spear and looked at the claw dangling from it. If it'd been seaweed making it feel so heavy or slow, she might've stopped a moment and tried to pull it off, but it was more dangerous than that, and the main issue with seaweed was its tendency to tangle - the crab claw's grip was cleaner, but how tight could it be? Could it be broken?

Twessa's thinking was maybe a bit misfounded, given just how important a crab's grip was to the creature's survival, but she'd learned not to overthink things and she'd had an alluring idea. Leverage!

The way she imagined it was that she'd heft her spear as hard as she could from one side of her to the other, carrying the grappling claw overhead at high speed, ending with a slam against one of the rocky outcroppings around them. The claw might be damaged, or disoriented, or maybe it'd lose track of people due to being so far away, or...something. More than that though, it'd look great!

Gleefully Twessa flexed her arms and exerted every ounce of her gnomish strength to do something amazing, recognising too late how Harlin's attempt to help had impacted on her plan...

THRASH

---

I wasn't sure if it was a Defy Danger or Hack and Slash, given Twessa was less concerned about doing damage than get the claw away from her buddies, so I went with a STR resolution.  Not that it matters now!

01:03, Today: Twessa Dumdellin rolled 3 using 2d6.  STR to Defy Danger(Hack and Slash?) +1 aid, -1 clumsy.

Oh Harlin, I sure blew that help :/

This message was last edited by the player at 14:29, Mon 14 Jan 2019.

Between Atalant's thick hide, her relentless onslaught, and her ferocious horns, the crab-mantis was unable to give the druid anything more than superficial scratches as it attempted to take her bull form down. What's more, one of her hons managed to puncture its thick carapace, causing a rush of blue-grey blood to ooze out. It shrieked in pain as it stumbled, dropping its weight into the mud as it scrambled backward, trying to retreat from this ill-advised confrontation. Landing right on top of Istvan and Gania.

Istvan managed to dive out of the way, trailing some of his rations behind him. Apparently the claw attack from earlier had torn open one of his sacks. At least he was unharmed though. Gania, being in the middle of a sword-swing, was not as fortunate. She took the full weight of the crab-mantis as it pressed her into the mud. If the ground had been solid, she surely would have been a goner.

Meanwhile, Twessa and Harlin struggled to get Twessa's spear free from the reanimated crab claw. Harlin managed to pry it loose a little bit just as Twessa tried swinging it free. The weight or the claw, however, put too much strain on the weapon. As it swung over Twessa's head, the end of her spear snapped off and the claw fell to the ground next to Harlin. Immediately it started snapping toward the elf, trying to clasp onto a new victim.

What do you do?

---

Everyone
The crab-mantis has had enough. It is attempting to retreat to safety.

Istvan
You got free, but lost 1d3 Dungeon Rations through a hole that got sliced in your pack earlier. They are thoroughly soaked in mud and squashed by the crab-mantis now.

Gania
You got smooshed into the mud. Take d8 damage. No piercing.

Atalanta
You successfully fended off the monster. Nice!

Twessa
Leverage worked! Unfortunately it worked against you. You and Harlin got the claw off, but broke the end off of your spear in the process. It is more like a walking stick now.

Harlin
You helped get the claw dislodged, but now it is coming after you again. Need a Defy Danger (or some other move) to avoid getting pinched.

All right, maybe this time Istvan would be able to help. He attacked the claw, using his Soul-Siphoning technique to try to heal himself...

(11:02, Today: Istvan Vanoson rolled 9 using 2d6+2 ((6,1)).

Damage (against the claw): 3 (11:05, Today: Istvan Vanoson rolled 3 using 1d8 ((3)).)

Holding off on rolling to see how much I heal in case you rule that this thing has no soul to siphon... (--Soul-Siphoning: Your attack heals you for 1d4. Heal 1d8 instead if this attack kills your target.))
This message was last edited by the player at 19:18, Tue 15 Jan 2019.

Harlin tried to dance out of the claw's way, but the boggy ground hampered the normally sure-footed elf. This made his counter-attack also less dextrous, leaving the claw an opening while striking a powerful blow with his sword.

Defy Danger (Dex): 8
Hack and Slash: 7 for 7 damage and a counterattack.

12:39, Today: Harlin Greenarrow rolled 7 using 1d8.  Damage.
12:38, Today: Harlin Greenarrow rolled 7 using 2d6+1.  Hack and Slash.
12:37, Today: Harlin Greenarrow rolled 8 using 2d6+2.  Defy Danger (Dex).

Seeing that the chimera had landed on Gania in its attempt to retreat, she decided to help it along and get it off her fiery companion: she kicked the son of an arthropod with her hoofs.

OOC: Spend 1 last Hold to Buck and Thrash; tell me if I need to roll anything.

Twessa stared at her shattered spear, agape. They'd barely set foot into the Tapestry and she'd already lost her only weapon. It was hard for the intuitive cleric not to see this as a poor omen.

She'd carried that fishing spear with her for five years - maybe not all that long for a gnome's lifespan, but she'd brought it with her all the way from the Crevasse and almost back again. It'd been a useful tool for catching fish, and had helped her see off a number of other dangers. All she had on her side now was divine providence...and her friends.

The chimera's retreat was pretty easy to read, even if it caused more pain for the Emberstorms in its hustle to escape. It'd been hard for Twessa to keep up with all the details of the fight while dealing with the distraction of the detached claw, but...

The claw! Where did the claw go?

Twessa span around, saw it engaging Harlin again, and kicked it as hard as she could with her muddy boot. By hook or by crook, she was going to make that claw fly!

---

Not so much worried about doing damage as in getting the claw a long way away thanks to a well timed kick.

02:34, Today: Twessa Dumdellin rolled 11 using 2d6.  Hack & Slash - kick the claw away as far as possible.

Woop!


This message was last edited by the player at 15:41, Wed 16 Jan 2019.

Gania landed into the mud and then turned into a cushion for the chimera with an "Oooofh" that did not sound good. As she laid there, she tried to make sense of the situation, but winded, bruised, and half-submerged was not the best state to be in for such observations.

20:57, Yesterday: Gania Flamekeeper rolled 5 using 1d8.  Damage.
18:03, Today: Gania Flamekeeper rolled 5 using 2d6+1.  Discern realities.

The crab claw got a few good nips in on Harlin before Istavan managed to get a solid stab in with his dagger, pinning it to the ground. As the duelist's magic sapped its strength sent black veins of magic across its shell, Harlin's followup swing sent shards of chitin flying out and into the two warriors in a small magical explosion. Then, to finish it off once and for all, the little gnome Twessa approached and kicked what remained into a puddle several feet away. It twitched twice, then lay motionless.

At this same time, Atalanta was busy single-handedly driving off the rest of the crab-mantis. With a few well-placed kicks and thrashes, the huge beast felt its best option was to retreat. These tasty morsels were much more trouble than they were worth. As the crab-mantis retreated back into the glowing mists, Atalanta melted back into her base form.

Gania, laying in the mud, contemplating, was in for one last foul surprise. The claw that Twessa kicked landed in a puddle near her, splashing a wave of smelly swamp water right onto her face. The warrior was blinded for a moment and had swallowed far too much muck, but would probably be alright. Her train of thought had certainly been disrupted though.

With the crab-mantis gone and its reanimated claw defeated, the party finally had a moment to take in their situation in a more relaxed atmosphere. The blue fog still swirls quietly, the pools of water are quickly returning to their natural stillness, and the smelly mud slowly plops off of everyone's clothing.

What do you do?

---

Harlin
You got nipped by the claw and then got hit by exploding shards of crab skin. Take 1d6 damage from the pincer, and 1d4 damage from the shards. Armor counts for both.

Istvan
Take 1d4 damage (apply armor) and heal 1d4 damage. It doesn't have a soul, but still had enough life force left in it for your ability to work.

Gania
You got muddy water to the face. You are blinded for a moment and coughing on nasty swamp water, but you should be fine in a minute or so. Made it impossible to Discern anything though.

Atalanta
You are in your human form again.

Twessa
That seems more like a Defy Danger, but the roll is still the same. Success!

(16:46, Today: Istvan Vanoson rolled 1 using 1d4 with rolls of 1.  Ow, a claw snapped me.
16:46, Today: Istvan Vanoson rolled 3 using 1d4 with rolls of 3.  Yay, healing for Istvan.)

The claw snapped at Istvan, but he parried it with his parrying dagger, so he took no damage. A bare instant later, he could feel healing energy running up his arm from his other dagger...




Istvan committed to memory, before it slipped his mind, what the glowing arcane rune had looked like.

That done, he looked around, and commented: "We seem to be in some sort of canyon... Shall we try to climb out of the mud and see what's up-top...? ...Or just trudge in one of the two muddy directions we have available?"

Istvan wanted out of the mud, but he didn't much want to climb. A thought occurred to him: "...Atalanta, want to become something that flies and carry a rope up top and then tie it...?"
This message was last edited by the player at 23:34, Wed 16 Jan 2019.

"Okay." Atalanta nodded as she called upon the spirits of the great plains once again and transformed herself into a goshawk, before she grabbed the rope in her beaks and flew upward, through the hazy blue fog. If nothing else, she should probably at least check out what's above them, to make sure there wouldn't be any surprise from above.

OOC: Atalanta rolled 12 using 2d6+3. Hold 3.

It was impossible to get up from mud, while also cleaning out from your eyes and spitting out some more with dignity, but Gania did her best. Once stable and able to see and taste anything beyond the mixture of earth and decay, she checked her bruised back and gashed arm. "Not the best start." she said as she checked her companions. From her recollection of the short fight, it was her that suffered the most, but it was likely she missed something "How is everyone?"

With the rope in her beak, it was difficult for Atalanta to gain any height. But not impossible. Slowly, the strong druid rose into the glowing mist above, navigating between rocky outcroppings as they appeared. After about thirty or forty feet up, she broke through the mists and made her way up out of the rocky walls below. Sort of.

They were definitely in a large cavern of some sort. However, below her were patches of green hay fields that had just been harvested, and pastures containing goats and sheep. These flat areas were broken up by large cracks in the earth, making them look like close-knit islands on a sea of blue haze that flowed lazily through the canyons. These mists were the only light source up here, just as they were below, giving the fields an eerily calm quality. On one of the "islands" close to the center of the cavern had four houses and a barn on it. From there, stone pathways branched outward to all or the other islands, with arced stone bridges connecting them. At the edges of the cavern Atalanta could make out a few places where the paths entered tunnel systems.

That was all she could really notice at a glance, but there were certainly boulders she could tie her rope to, if desired.

What do you do?

---

Atalanta
Your goshawk moves are:
Dive at prey
See in great detail
Aerial maneuver

Harlin stumbled to firmer ground and surveyed the field. His left shoulder had a big chunk of claw-shrapnel embedded and was clearly paining him.

"Twessa, can you use a shortsword? I have a feeling I should stick to my bow for a while, and I could use your spear-haft in an emergency."



"I've been better, but I'll survive."

At 15/20 after armor.

16:43, Today: Harlin Greenarrow rolled 4,3 using d6,d4 with rolls of 4,3.  Damage.

It's kind of beautiful, Atalanta thought to herself when she saw the "islands in the mist", so to speak. In an eerie, unnatural way, that is. But still. Since it'd probably be difficult - if not outright impossible - to tie the rope without thumbs, she decided to take advantage of her avian form and survey the land first.

OOC:
Spend 1 Hold to See in Great Detail.
If I spot seemingly edible animal, I'll spend 1 hold to Dive at Prey.
If any danger comes my way, I'll spend 1 hold to dodge it with Aerial Maneuver.
Once either or both were done, or of neither happens, I'll spend the rest of the hold on nothing so I can revert to human form and tie the rope to the boulders; tell me if this triggers any move.

With the scene now become less hectic, Twessa looked around at her companions and saw everyone else looking worse for wear (though it was hard to tell with the ever-shifting Atalanta). She looked down at the broken spear in her hand; the only damage she'd suffered, and a solemn frown fell upon her.

First there had been the divine visitation she'd received in her dreams, and..what must have been some kind of guidance that had seen her and her companions win the tentative support of the increasingly irritated dragons gathered outside, watching the fallen city. To Twessa there could be only one explanation: this quest must be very important to Sagrae, and far too important to lose her primary agent to happenstance. It was reassuring, but daunting - just what did her goddess truly expect of her?

After indulging in uncharacteristic brooding, Twessa looked up and smiled at Harlin, the gnome's overly positive (and perhaps slightly dimwitted?) demeanour resurfaced.

"Thank you Harlin, thats very thoughtful of you!", she said as she gratefully swapped broken staff for edged weapon. As the elf had implied, there may have been some orders of clerics that swore off such weapons, but Sagrae's teeth and claws were sharp as diamonds. Twessa would've been loathe to persist with little more than a blunt lump of wood.

Twessa carefully attached the shortsword to her belt as she peered up at the mists and wandered thoughtfully around the cavern they found themselves in (taking care not to stir up the corpse puppet). After a few steps, Twessa cordially issued the invitation she felt her friends merited, in the form she'd practiced after accidentally injuring the egos of warriors in the past with a careless offer. "Do any of you seek the restorative grace of Sagrae?"

---

04:58, Today: Twessa Dumdellin rolled 8 using 2d6+2.  Discern Realities (Poking around to work out something about the tapestry).

My one question: What here is not what it appears to be?
(if thats no good to answer, I'll do `What here is useful or valuable to me?')

And does anyone need heals, or are you all OK to carry on slightly bruised?
This message was last edited by the player at 18:35, Fri 18 Jan 2019.

"I think we may yet have greater need of her help as we continue."

After stowing her rope where she planned on knotting it later, Atalanta found it much easier to flit about the expansive cavern. With her keen bird of prey eyesight, the druid was able so spot quite a few tasty morsels to choose from. There were chickens near the farmhouses, a ferret snooping around a goat pen, two rabbits munching on grass with the sheep, and quite a few rats and mice scurrying around in the freshly cut hay fields. Nothing gave her trouble as she moved about in the air. There were not even any people out and about. They were either inside or elsewhere.

After snatching her meal, Atalanta was easily able to tie off her rope and drop it to where her companions presumably still waited down below.

Meanwhile, as the rest of the party discussed among themselves in the muddy swamp-canyon, Twessa also took a moment to look at the tapestry they had entered with a new perspective. As she sloshed through the mud and puddles, poked the scraggly trees, ran her hand over the stone outcropping, Twessa came to one very obvious conclusion. This place was real.

More real than one would expect from the inside a piece of cloth. The rocks were made of rock. The water was made of water. Still, something seemed off. She knew from countless tales that the tapestry didn't always follow the same logic of the natural world, but now she could sense it. A gut feeling that rules like "water is wet" and "fire burns" were not constant throughout the realm. The type of feeling that a box could be larger on the inside than the outside. It was difficult to grasp completely and nigh impossible to fully explain, but Twessa could feel it in her bones now that she was paying attention to it.

Just as this epiphany hit her full force, one end of the rope dropped down from up above.

What do you do?

---

Atalanta
You are human again, at the side of the canyon in a hay field. I will let you decide what you chose for your meal. It is the equivalent of 1 ration.

Twessa
What here is not what it appears to be?
Everything. And nothing. You can't tell by looking at it that you are even inside of the tapestry. Everything seems much more real than you expected it to. Because it is real. Still, it is not necessarily the same type of real as your own world.

Gania watched Atalanta fly away, wondering why did she have to be cursed with the fire inside of her instead of a useful ability like the druids. Sighing, the barbarian waited. When Twessa offered divine healing, Gania stiffened slightly, her hand once again seeking the gash on her arm. But she waited. When the gnome left to explore their surroundings, Gania followed. Once she caught up to the priestess, she asked in a low voice, ashamed of her weakness "If your dragon wills it, I could use some restoration."

Once the rope was lowered, Gania gave it an experimental tug. "Anyone eager to go first?" she asked, ready to take on the role if needed. Her eyes drifted upwards to the mist in which the top of the climb hid.

"Quickclaw and I can go up and scout," Harlin answered. "Though Atalanta wouldn't have lowered the rope if there were obvious danger."

The ranger shouldered his bow (cat on the other shoulder) and started to climb, agilely kicking off of the cliff face.
This message was last edited by the player at 21:35, Sun 20 Jan 2019.

Twessa took a deep breath. The...unreality of this place was a lot to process. Perhaps the unreality of the tapestry was the problem Sagrae wanted resolved. Or not. She hadn't been here long, perhaps the problem was that the tapestry was becoming more real! Frustrated, Twessa pressed against her forehead with a thin finger and sighed - this sort of wizard thinking wasn't something she enjoyed in the least.

At Gania's approach the cleric nodded, understanding the delicacy of Gania's request with diplomacy. A warrior's pride was far easier to harm than their person, and much harder to heal.

She didn't have music (what she'd give to have a bard at her side!), so she'd have to do her modest dance of petition (an exaggerated shuffling of feet and bowing at the waist meant to impersonate a dragon's display of deference) accompanied only by the sloppy sounds of mud.

"O Sagrae, Queen of Dragons, Protector of Traditions, and Avenger of Discourtesy, please hear my plea", the little gnome sang in a minor key. "I, Twessa Dumdellin, your adoring servant, beseech you to extend your hospitality through me to my dear friend Gania, of the Emberstorm tribe, and grant her relief from such injuries as she has suffered."

---

HEAL FAIL! Oh Sagrae noooooo

02:29, Today: Twessa Dumdellin rolled 5 using 2d6+2.  Casting Healing on Gania.
02:36, Today: Twessa Dumdellin rolled 5 using 1d8.  In case DM wanted to know how much healing wouldve been.

While waiting for her companions to climb up, Atalanta began to skin the chicken and prepare it for the more (gasp) civilized people.

Harlin and Atalanta

When Harlin reached the top of the rope, he came upon Atalanta effortlessly preparing a dead chicken for eating. But behind her were the expansive hay fields and pastures scattered among islands of rock that signified a farmland. The sight of a barn a few "islands" over solidified that fact. However, it appeared some people were now approaching from the farmhouses. Two dwarves and a gnome, carrying a pitchfork, a shovel, and a hatchet. It was difficult to tell from here if they intended to cause trouble or not, but they would arrive in about a minute or so.

---

Twessa, Gania, and Istvan

Down below, Gania worked to heal Gania's wounds with her magic as they waited for Harlin to climb the rope. The barbarian's wounds were healing up nicely, but then the gnome's spell was suddenly interrupted by a glass vial smashing against her back. She could instantly smell the acrid scent of acid.

"Blasphemer!" a voice called out from the mists. "Heretic! You are not welcome here!" It was the mud-covered figure Twessa had spotted when they first arrived. She had the voice of an old gnomish crone. She was clutching a talisman around her neck in one hand and holding a potion bottle in her other.

What do you do?

---

Atalanta and Harlin
You have some farmers coming to investigate you. Their intentions are unknown.

Twessa
Apparently the figure you spotted earlier doesn't like you using your goddess's magic in her swamp. Your spell was successful, but you had a vial of acid thrown at your back. Either take 1d8 damage, or reduce your armor by 1 permanently.

Gania
Heal 5 HP from Twessa's magic.

Istvan
From your perspective you notice that the type of talisman around the mud witch's neck is often used for summoning magics. What kind of swamp creature can she summon with her talisman?
This message was last edited by the GM at 03:41, Fri 25 Jan 2019.

Ugh. Stick Elemental. Don't want one of those summoned to claw at us...

(Parley: 15:45, Today: Istvan Vanoson rolled 8 using 2d6+1 ((1,6)).)

"Wait, wait! We'll leave! Just don't attack us any further...!" said Istvan...
This message had punctuation tweaked by the player at 22:33, Tue 22 Jan 2019.

"We've got company." Atalanta commented to Harlin while she observed the incoming three carefully, trying to determine their intentions.

OOC:
Discern Realities: Atalanta rolled 11 using 2d6+3. I'll ask:
What is about to happen?
What should I be on the lookout for?
Who’s really in control here?

Quickclaw jumped off of Harlin's back and moved silently through the grass toward the short figures. Harlin himself stepped forward, in front of Atalanta, empty hands raised. "Hello! We are strangers here." he called, hoping they would understand the language of the Other Side. He watched their reactions carefully, hoping for information rather than trouble.

Though the presence of the chicken carcass made him slightly nervous in this context.

Discern Realities with the help of Quickclaw (strength: Stealthy and training: Scout). 11

What is about to happen?
What happened here recently?
What here is not what it appears to be?

18:38, Today: Harlin Greenarrow rolled 11 using 2d6+3.  Discern Realities w/cat.

"Indeed." Gania watched the crone carefully while gripping the rope "Let us leave and all will be good." she kept glancing at Twessa, hating herself for not seeing the attack coming. "Are you well friend?" she asked the cleric, concerned.

The dancing cleric yelped in shock at the surprise attack, and when she smelled the corruption of leather she rapidly unbuckled her leather armor and incautiously tossed it to the ground to fade away.

Twessa's natural reaction was anger - for interrupting her prayer to Sagrae, for assaulting her person. The gnome's instinctively grasped for her spear (broken, and given away) leaving her hand to fumble at nothing as she stood on the precipice of dramatic response.

It was the words of her friends that swayed her away from violence, and the nagging feeling that perhaps they'd accidentally breached etiquette. Perhaps this woman had some sort of guardianship of the swamp, and her complaint of intrusion was fair. That was enough. Enough to spare the crone from violence, not enough to acknowledge her response as valid.

"I'm fine. Lets just go.", Twessa replied to Gania, and turned her back on the crone once more, waiting for her turn to climb the rope.

---

Losing the armor instead of taking damage is kind of funny to me, so I chose that. Weapon and armor, both ruined! Poor Twessa.

Down in the swamp, the old crone seemed to consider Istvan's words, just barely holding back from throwing her potion. Her arm twitched once. Twice. Then the gnome lowered her arm just a hair. "Fine, leave. Now. If you do, I suppose I can spare your wretched lives. You ever come back though..." The crone let her threat hang, emphasizing it with one last fake throw of her potion. But so long as the party members all climbed up the rope, she did not let loose with her attack.

As the party members below began their climb, the party members above prepared to deal with several of the local farmers. When Harlin called out to them, the dwarf in front replied in an agitated voice. "You're gall darn right you are strangers! What are you doing on our property? Poaching our poultry?" He pointed with his shovel at the chicken Atalanta had nabbed. He stopped a few paces away and stroked his long grey beard. The other dwarf and the gnome stood behind each of his shoulders. "That is our livelihood you decided to help yourselves to there. This is our field you are trampling through. We can't just let that go, you know. Old Ungart's gotta make a living!" His tone of voice and rubbing motion he was making with his fingers indicated he was alluding to some generous payment. "What do you got to trade for the chicken? And then of course the fee for trekking on or field here too."

As the man spoke, Harlin noticed that the rope behind him was taught and wiggling, indicating that at least one more of his allies would be showing up shortly to give their support.

What do you do?

---

Istvan
It seems she will not attack so long as you all do, in fact, exit her swamp. And it appears you all are.

Twessa and Gania
Up the rope you go.

Atalanta
What is about to happen?
You are going to be held accountable for taking a chicken unless you pay Ungart for his livestock.

What should I be on the lookout for?
Overcharging. Ungart seems to be the greedy type.

Who’s really in control here?
The grey-bearded dwarf Ungart seems to be the leader of this farmstead.

Harlin
What is about to happen?
One or more of your companions is about to join you.

What happened here recently?
The hay has just been harvested, making Quickclaw's sneaking much more difficult in the short grasses. (Although they don't seem to be paying the cat much mind anyway.)

What here is not what it appears to be?
Ungart seems less concerned about his chicken and field, and seems more concerned about coming up with reasons to extort payment from you.

Yes, Istvan ascends, with no further delay...

"My name is Harlin." At least they shared a language. "And this is Atalanta. She did not know the chicken was livestock. But can we compensate you for the trouble? And if you will point us to the road, we will be off your property as quickly as we can."

Do we have any coin, even trivial amounts? Dungeon World is funny that way about how it does increments. If not, I'll try offering some of my rations or arrows. What I'm going for is to get out of this situation without a fight or unreasonable extortion. They are kind of in the right.

19:24, Today: Harlin Greenarrow rolled 2 using 2d6.  Parley.

Oops.

Snake-Eyes Club!

"Well, you can have it back if you want." Atalanta said helpfully (?), holding up the half-skinned chicken. "I can even finish skinning it for you if you like."

OOC: Sorry, I can't resist the urge to do something to make things worse. =P

Ungart gave a wide smile at Harlin and Atalanta's words, his yellowed teeth showing beneath his beard. "That is the kind of cooperation I like to hear. There's no reason we can't solve our grievances peacefully right?" He looked the two adventurers up and down appraisingly.

"The chicken is no good to us in the state it is in now, but I suppose you could give us that rundown bow for it," he said, pointing to Harlin's bow that was in fact NOT rundown. "And a bundle of arrows should do it for trespassing. And naturally, since there are two of you, two bundles seems appropriate."

Most would think that would be the end of it, but Ungart seemed to only be getting started. "Then there is the matter of the damage you are causing to our field by trampling all over it. Those bundles of food you have should about cover our losses there. The chicken skinning is a separate matter though. In order to pay for the extra cleaning effort in that area I think it is only fair to trade us that herb pouch you have. And you are certainly more than welcome to exit through our lands, but I should warn you, we charge tolls for the use of our bridges. Do not fret though. I think that assortment of miscellaneous items there, your adventuring gear, should be adequate. We have several different exits from our farmlands here though. Some of the paths are quite deadly. I would be more than happy to give guidance on the matter for the cheap price of the leathers the two of you wear." The greedy man's smile only got wider as he spoke, if that was even possible, but at last it seemed he was finished.

"I feel we have given you quite a generous deal here, given the circumstances. Care to take us up on it? Resolve this peaceably?" There was just a hint of intimidation in his voice as he and his two companions stood with Harlin and Atalanta backed against the top of the cliff, currently outnumbered. Although the other three were only a few feet from reaching the top now, but Ungart couldn't see that.

What do you do?

---

Atalanta and Harlin

Ungart is basically trying to extort everything you own from you by claim in fees or offering bargains. It is quite a ridiculous request by most standards, but it is up to the two of you if you accept or not. Here are the offered terms in list form:

For taking the chicken                   : fined : Harlin's Hunters Bow
For trespassing                          : fined : 1 bundle of arrows per person
For damaging the field                   : fined : Harlin's Dungeon Rations
For dirtying field with chicken skinning : Fined : Atalanta's Poultices and Herbs
For use of bridges                       : toll  : Harlin's adventuring gear
To know which exits are safe or deadly   : fee   : Both their armors

Things not bargained for : Their sticks and their clothes.

Istvan, Gania, Twessa
You can hear the conversation from where you are on the rope. Feel free to enter the scene whenever you feel it is the right moment.

"...Is this extortion?" Atalanta raised an eyebrow and looked toward Harlin. "It sounds like extortion."

"I think its just their price list", Twessa helpfully suggested as she surfaced from the swamp below. "Maybe you should explain your fees? Not cursing the harvest, and not turning into a bull and goring people to death is probably quite expensive?"

Once on solid ground, Twessa moved away from the rope for the next person, looked up, and noticed another gnome! She immediately straightened up, coyly tilted her head, and tried not to smell of swamp juices, nor of the sweaty clothes usually hidden under her now abandoned leather armor. Travelling in the south it'd been infrequent at best that she'd found gnomes to spend time with, and look at all the hay just begging to be rolled in...

"Hi", Twessa said, breaking the ice, and tried to make her voice sound husky and lewd. She entirely ignored the greedy dwarf and his...brother? Who cares about dwarves!

---

16:29, Today: Twessa Dumdellin rolled 3 using 2d6+1.  Aiding a counter-extortion & flirting.

SNAKE EYES CLUB!

Thats a bad flirt!
This message was last edited by the player at 05:43, Sun 27 Jan 2019.

"You know," Gania spoke as she reached the end of the rope and pulled herself up "Those that carry weapons can use them." she straightened her back and readied her greatsword "And now there's more of us."

10:17, Today: Gania Flamekeeper rolled 6 using 2d6.  Parley - live and let live.

Harlin's face changed into something quite ugly. "Yes, this is extortion. My counter-offer: an arrow for each of you." He nocked one to start.

Ungart and his guys looked surprised at the appearance of more people, but as they spoke Ungart's eyes narrowed and he began gritting his teeth. Apparently he did not appreciate the turn the conversation had taken. Over his shoulders he said, "Glurt, Tolly, go inform Bristle and Bo what is going on here, would ya?" The other dwarf and the gnome went wide-eyed, but nodded and ran off across the field.

Then Ungart focused back on the party. "Y'all think I'm scared of the likes of you? Remember those dangerous roads I told you about? I've taken 'em. I thought you were honest folk, but turns out you are nothing but a bunch of thugs, trespassing and causing problems for us. This is MY land. MY farm. If you don't like MY rules, well, you can just go right back down into the swamp you came from. I'm sure Tolly's gran would welcome you with open arms." His last remark was said with thick sarcasm. Serious again, he continued, "Otherwise you can put your weapons away and do things like I says. What'll it be?" The old farmer held his shovel before him in a defensive stance, ready to react to anything.

What do you do?

---

Everyone
Glurt and Tolly are running back to the farm to inform Bristle and Bo about the situation, whatever that means. Ungart gave you the ultimatum to either do things his way on his land, or go back to the swamp you came from.

"Oh good." Atalanta let out a sigh of relief when Harlin confirmed that yes, it was in fact extortion. "I was afraid this is another one of those civilized exchanges that I tend to misunderstand." she commented before turning back to Ungart: "The land is not yours." she shook her head at his words. "The land belongs to no one; you are just as much a tenant of hers as us or the animals you keep." she said while she put away her staff and dropped the chicken. "Take our weapons. Take our armors." she called on the spirits to assume her most familiar form: a lion. "You can't take the land from us."

Today: Atalanta rolled 12 using 2d6+3.  Shapeshift. Hold 3.

Put out as `Tolly' ran off with his friend, Twessa's mood dimmed. All that was left was a rude old dwarf who pretended robbery was hospitality, and who'd decided it wise to refuse fair hospitality to a servant of Sagrae. It was hard to respect such a foolish elder, but fortunately Twessa didn't need to. The dwarf's absurd and inhospitable demands had freed her from being awkwardly bound to any of Sagrae's doctrine of etiquette.

"You're a fool, old dwarf", Twessa flatly declared. "A fool for trying to extort my friends rather than offer them fair hospitality, and for much more beyond your comprehension."

The little cleric reached up to the throat of her tunic and touched the brooch holding it together - a mosaic of white opal depicting a scaled dragon egg set in silver). As she mumbled some of the few words of draconic tongue she'd learned, around this holy symbol of Sagrae shimmer appeared, and intensified into an aurora of shifting lights. Eye watering rings of pink, blue and green swirled and expanded, moving through each other in complex fashion before all at once combining into the form of an ethereal dragon.

"Mighty Sagrae, I, your humble servant, Twessa Dumdellin, once more beg your divine guidance. These farmers have wronged us by word, and wronged you by action. By my hand, by your word, shall I wreak upon these insolent farmers your mercy, or your justice?"

---

Casting Guidance to see what Sagrae thinks we should do about this absence of hospitality...kill, deal, or just walk on.

02:31, Today: Twessa Dumdellin rolled 7 using 2d6+2.  Casting Guidance rote.

Guidance
The symbol of your deity appears before you and gestures towards the direction or course of action your deity would have you take then disappears. The message is through gesture only; your communication through this spell is severely limited.

Due to roll of 7, I choose that the spell is revoked until Twessa's next commune

---

I'm also including a CHA/Parley roll in case witnessing spellcasting, and the threat of divine vengeance, scares Ungart into an early submission.

03:03, Today: Twessa Dumdellin rolled 10 using 2d6+1 ((3,6)).


This message was last edited by the player at 16:09, Mon 28 Jan 2019.

"No need to fetch more!" Gania yelled, her voice roaring like a fire "They'll laugh that you couldn't deal with a few women." she stepped forward, pulling her blade along the ground. "Listen to her, or come at me." she nodded back at Twessa "Who'll go first?"

18:59, Today: Gania Flamekeeper rolled 11 using 2d6+1.  What are you waiting for?

Harlin didn't intend to let the others get away. If Twessa's "diplomacy" didn't help, he'd plant an arrow in the meat of one of the runners' thighs. Quickclaw meanwhile moved to hinder the gnome's footing, making him an easier target for his master.

Contingent: Harlin shoots if it looks like the pair might get out of range before he can shoot both of them. Success. Hit the gnome for 8, and he is hobbled.

15:36, Today: Harlin Greenarrow rolled 8 using 1d8+2.  Damage gnome.
15:35, Today: Harlin Greenarrow rolled 11 using 2d6+2.  Called Shot-Legs.
This message was last edited by the player at 20:38, Mon 28 Jan 2019.

Istvan looks in despair at the rapidly-deteriorating diplomatic situation. He wracked his brain-- wasn't there anything involving the complex dwarven rules of hospitality that could be useful...?

(Spout Lore dwarven hospitality: 14:27, Today: Istvan Vanoson rolled 9 using 2d6+2 ((5,2)).)

...Istvan remembers something interesting, but not necessarily immediately useful...

Ungart gulped, but held his ground when Atalanta turned into a lion. But then he looked downright unsettled when Gania issued her challenge as well. And when Harlin shot his arrow and Twessa cast her spell, he finally seemed to reconsider his stance. The spectral dragon evoked by the gnome's spell fluttered over to the dwarf, made one circle around him, nudged his coin purse with its snout, then rocketed over to Twessa's own (empty) coin purse before disappearing.

Looking back to see where his gnome friend had been tripped up by an arrow and was bleeding on the ground, and his dwarven friend was still rushing back toward the farm house, Ungart sighed and lowered his shovel. "Hold your fire," he requested in a defeated tone. "Let's hear your demands. I'll ensure no further harm befalls you while you thugs take free reign of our lands, so long as you bring no further harm to me and my kin. I suppose I would rather keep my life than die in an unwinnable battle."

What do you do?

---

Atalanta
Your lion moves are:
Intimidating roar
Stalk from the grasses (Note: the hay in the field you are in is incredibly short)
Take down prey

Gania
Ungart is watching you even more warily than the nearby lion. His companions also seem to think you are the biggest threat, but that didn't stop them from running across the field.

Twessa
Your diplomacy worked. Ungart has agreed to submit to your demands so long as you promise not to hurt them any further.

Your Guidance spell seemed to gesture at adding his coin purse to yours, whatever that means.

Harlin
You took down the gnome, and he is seriously injured, but the other dwarf is still running. Twessa's diplomacy worked, but he didn't stop his allies from running back toward the farm.

Istvan
You recall that in most dwarven cultures, if you greet a dwarf with a gift of stone, their attitude is generally expected to shift accordingly. A gift of granite or marble can encourage fair treatment, and a gift of a precious stone or crystal will encourage an even more favorable outcome. And a gift of peat or sandstone is seen as a slight. Something only done to those you dislike and who you want to know you dislike them.

Istvan, how do you know this?

"Stop that dwarf right now," Harlin ordered Ungart as he took aim at the runner.

For a little while, Istvan used to date a bard who'd traveled extensively in the Galdrik empire. He learned a lot from her, but she eventually ditched him for a wizard. Stupid wizard. Stupid rich wizard.
This message was last edited by the player at 16:53, Fri 01 Feb 2019.

Ungart sighed at Harlin's demand, but turned and gave a shrill whistle that filled the entire cavern. The other dwarf slowed and looked back, and Ungart waved his arms in the air to get his attention. "Ho! Stand down!" Then pointing toward the injured gnome, "Make sure Tolly's alright." The man stopped running and headed toward the injured gnome, although he kept giving the group worried glances.

Ungart turned back toward the group. "Now how might you suggest we resolve this situation?"

What do you do?

"We're finding terms." Gania agreed with the dwarf and gestured for Harlin to lower his bow.

Looking at the gnome priestess the barbarian offered "If the dragon sees fit, we can heal your friend." she stashed her sword and considered Ungart "We wish to explore this place. Let us pass and shall not harm you... further."

Twessa narrowed her eyes and suspicions swirled as to why Sagrae had pointed out the dwarf's pouch. Vengeance from Sagrae was usually of a more visceral kind, not just monetary compensation. Maybe the dwarf had something he shouldn't.

A gesture of goodwill needed to be made. Twessa shifted her hand away from the hilt of her short sword, and with her other hand pointed towards the old dwarf. "What my friend offered, and you give me your pouch there. I'll try and see your friend healed, if he'll allow it - his gran didn't seem kindly disposed to my faith."

---

04:35, Today: Twessa Dumdellin rolled 4 using 2d6+1.  Parrrley. Gimme dat pouch!

Aw. Fail. I thought 2d6 was meant to be more central in distribution!

Harlin lowered his bow.

Atalanta bared her teeth and growled, just for effect.

OOC: Spending 1 Hold on Intimidating Roar, if it helps.

Ungart thumbed his coin purse for a moment, as if he were still considering if it was truly worth it to hand it over. But Atalanta's growl seemed to remove any further doubt from his mind. He quickly unstrung it and handed it over to Twessa. Inside were 22 gold coins and two pristine opals the size of a pinky fingernail.

"If you truly did meet Tolly's gran down there, then you know she's a bit... eccentric. She is set in the old ways. Tolly is a bit more open minded. I suspect you'll have no trouble convincing him to let you take away his pain, no matter your god." Ungart began leading you begrudgingly across the field toward the injured gnome. "Please. Just fix 'im and be on your way." He gestured toward the path that led off to a tunnel in the cavern wall.

What do you do?

---

Twessa
As I noted in the OOC, your earlier Parley roll was still in effect, so you're good. You received 22 coins and two small flawless opals from his Ungart's coin pouch. If you plan to heal Tolly, please include a roll for it.

Twessa peered into the pouch and nodded, her suspicions confirmed. Opals. She plucked the gems out and let Ungart observe them on her palm as she spoke.

"My goddess will take these as compensation for the poor hospitality you offered. You needn't fear further divine retribution for your disrespect, but know this: if me and my friends die in your lands, we'll be followed by dragons, and their wrath will take all that you own."

It wasn't common for the little cleric to appear so serious, nor to offer dire threats as her words must have sounded to those who didn't know her. To Twessa, it was advice, and deserved to be spoken with no chance of misunderstanding. The dragons gathered beyond the tapestry had been restless when she and her friends had entered it, and just itching for an excuse to break ranks and...burn. Everything, maybe.

She secreted the opals away on her person to be consumed as part of her next communion with the goddess, and then counted out seven gold coins. "Now this is for the leather armor Tully's gran ruined by throwing acid at me. I reckon you should talk with Tully's family for compensation. The armor wasn't new so I won't take full value."

Finally Twessa flicked a coin towards Harlin with a wink, and closed the pouch. "And this is for my friend's wasted arrow", she explained to Ungart. "The rest...about fourteen coins I think?...I'll give it back to you when you've led us safely through your lands. Its lucky for you I'm not a thief."

After putting the pouch away, she walked on through the field towards the felled gnome and called on the blessing of Sagrae to heal the wounded Tolly, as undeserving as he may be.

---

13:21, Today: Twessa Dumdellin rolled 6 using 2d6+2.  Spell Casting. Heal Tolly up.

Another failed roll, oof. Can I suggest Sagrae getting impatient and stealing the opals right away?

13:25, Today: Twessa Dumdellin rolled 6 using 1d8.  Healed amount for Tolly.

Gania watched the exchange, curious of how much meaning could the gnome give to pieces of metal. At least the purpose of the gems was clear, sacrifices and offerings were a part of every culture, no matter how civilized - or not. When Twessa went over to the wounded gnome, Gania accompanied her, mostly to be sure that there would be no funny business. "You did very well. And your dragon is certainly a formidable one." she looked down at Tolly "You could learn a bit from your kinswoman."

20:33, Today: Gania Flamekeeper rolled 8 using 2d6+1. Aid Twessa.
If words of encouragement and praise count.

Gania
Words of encouragement seem like a bit of a stretch in this situation for Aid, but I will give it to you since you also still have your What Are You Waiting For move active, which makes the farmers a bit more compliant around you too. I will let you know what your danger, retribution, or cost is after Twessa picks her spellcasting penalty.

Twessa
Gania bumped your roll up to 7. Please choose one of the 7-9 options for your spellcasting move.

After her little song of praise to mighty Sagrae brought forth the goddess’s gift of healing, Twessa’s stiff shoulders loosened, and she smiled  at her friend Gania. It was nice to have support: the burden of devotion to a demanding goddess felt much lighter when shared, even if by a non-believer.

---

Aaaah how could I choose other than Unwanted Attention/In A Spot?

Tolly looked unsure at first as Twessa approached to work her magic, but didn't dare object with the intimidating Gania standing nearby. Glurt, the second dwarf, was acting similarly timid as he comforted his friend.

But as Sagrae's magic flowed through Twessa and into Tolly's wound, a look of relief washed over the injured gnome's face. Immediately followed by worry. "Wait! Maybe it isn't such a good idea for you to cast magic on-" He cut his sentence short as a spot under his shirt began to glow. He pulled out a talisman around his neck that looked remarkably similar to the one the Mud-witch had been clutching. "Oh no! My grandmother's ward!"

All around Tolly, the short hay he sat upon began to grow and thicken and twist into thick cords of fibrous material as it took on a humanoid shape. The hay it was made of thickened into woody vines accented by long sharp thorns. Even before it fully formed, the stick-man was reaching out to "protect" Tolly by striking out at Gania.

What do you do?

---

Gania
A stick elemental was conjured automatically when Twessa cast her magic on Tolly. It is attacking the nearest "foe" which happens to be you. You will need to make a roll if you want to avoid damage.

Twessa
A stick elemental was conjured automatically when you cast your magic on Tolly. It is attacking the nearest "foe" which happens to be Gania. You can see that you could easily interpose yourself between the two and take any damage she would potentially receive yourself instead. Or you could move to safety and let Gania face the most immediate danger herself.

Atalanta, Istvan, Harlin
The three of you are a bit further away, but you definitely see the stick elemental take shape and can see that it means to harm your companions.

Twessa pursed her lips, her held tilting upwards as the mud hag's charm grew into some huge plant thing, and began thrashing at Gania with malicious intent.

Trees. Still can't be trusted.

Before Twiggy could connect with her charge, the tortured beacon of the Emberstorm tribe, Twessa twisted to insert herself in the thing's path, prepared to take the brunt of what her faith had brought forth.

---

Twessa steps in and takes the hit because its that sort of day.

Casting a spell on Gania to avenge herself (and Sagrae)

03:48, Today: Twessa Dumdellin rolled 8 using 2d6+2.  Cast a spell: Bless on Gania.

Spell succeeds (Gania gets +1 ongoing while the battle continues and she fights), and I choose for Twessa to lose the spell until her next commune.

Also not sure if you'd want a Defy Danger (or Defend?) for the interposing so here's one:

04:01, Today: Twessa Dumdellin rolled 11 using 2d6+1.  Do you need a Defy Danger too? (using Con).

Gania watched the hay gather and reshape, her eyes narrow and blade ready. "That's not normal." As the creature rushed at her she prepared to fend it off, but Twessa intervened. With the defensive taken care of, Gania sidestepped them and struck at the twig with her blade.

20:30, Today: Gania Flamekeeper rolled 13 using 2d6+3.  Slash the sticks.
20:30, Today: Gania Flamekeeper rolled 4 using 1d10+1.  Damage.

<darkgreen>"No, it really isn't,"<darkgreen> Harlin agreed.

Not sure what would happen by adding another "stick," Harlin lofted an arrow at the creature, striking its center, while Quickclaw pulled at it from behind.

Volley hits for 6, including Quickclaw damage.

14:52, Today: Harlin Greenarrow rolled 6 using 1d8+2.  Damage w/companion.
14:52, Today: Harlin Greenarrow rolled 13 using 2d6+2.  Volley.

Istvan was tempted to use a burning attack, but then the stick-man might set fire to Istvan and his friends if the stick-man wasn't destroyed early in the battle. No, better to try to freeze the thing, snap it like an early frost, weaken its ability to fend us off.

(15:47, Today: Istvan Vanoson rolled 11 using 2d6+2 ((6,3)).

Freezing: Your attack freezes and shatters a portion of your opponent’s armor. After you deal your damage, reduce their armor by 1 until they repair it.

15:48, Today: Istvan Vanoson rolled 6 using 1d8 ((6)).

Istvan does 6 damage to the stick-man (not counting its armor... but after Istvan attacks, it also loses a point of armor.)

This message was last edited by the player at 23:18, Fri 08 Feb 2019.

...A stick-man? Seriously? Atalanta raised an eyebrow quizzically when she saw the hay taking shape, although her expression was hard to read on her lion face. What's next, carrot-girl?

Without further ado, she rushed forward and opened her jaw wide, intending to take a huge bite of the hay, despite currently being carnivorous and all.

OOC: Spend 1 Hold to Take Down Prey. Atalanta rolled 9 using 2d6, just in case it's needed.

As Twessa stepped in to absorb the blow meant for Gania, she was struck hard by a thorny arm made of twisting vines and sticks. Despite being no bigger than an average sized human, it struck with the force of a full grown tree! Even so, the little gnome managed to bestow a minor blessing upon Gania before being thrown backward and landing hard.

Gania, taking advantage of the distraction, managed to get a good slice into the stick elemental. The limb that had struck Twessa landed on the ground next to the gnome as Gania sliced it free from its body. The elemental turned toward the barbarian to deliver retribution, but by now her other allies had had time to come to her aid too.

Harlin's arrow pierced its torso with a dull thunk. Some bark flew free and it staggered a bit, but otherwise seemed unaffected. That was, not until Istvan arrived and added a flash of arcane bladework. With a well placed stab, icy magic flowed into the elemental. Both where Istvan's blade and Harlin's arrow had pierced it, frost spread out from the wounds and spiderwebbed along its vines. Bark chipped off and the wood cracked, weakening the elemental's entire structure. Then, as Atalanta leaped upon it to take it down, her powerful lion form shattered it against the ground.

The stick elemental was no more, having been taken down almost as quickly as it had appeared. The dwarf Ungart wandered over and looked at the remains, wide-eyed. "I, uh... I hope you won't hold that against us..." He stroked his beard nervously as he gauged the adventurers' reactions.

What do you do?

---

Everyone
Stick elemental defeated! Nice work everyone!

Twessa
This think packs a wallop! Take 1d10 damage, 1 piercing. Since you were actively choosing to not Defy the Danger present when you chose to step in front of the attack instead of retreating (as your choice from the failed spellcasting), I opted not to use your Defy Danger roll.

"Good teamwork," Harlin says to Istvan as he catches his breath. "Ok, let's keep our bargain with these people and leave their lands." The ranger does not acknowledge Ungart's question.

The sky above didn't look right, Twessa noticed, spread-eagled in the dirt. Then she remembered where she was.

"We're fine", Twessa insisted, as she carefully rose to her feet, trying not to show the signs of how heavy a blow she'd taken. She felt some worrying creaks and twangs, but figured she could get by for now. Injuries received in defence of the goddess were worthy ones, and Gania looked well enough. "Well enough, anyway. Lets go."

---

Big hit!

14:12, Today: Twessa Dumdellin rolled 9 using 1d10.  ow ow ow damaged by sticks.

Twessa's going to carry the damage. Enough failed spells for the moment!

Gania stomped on the withered remains of the elemental as she stashed her sword. Then she caught sight of the gashes on Twessa's back and her face darkened. The dwarf didn't choose a good time or question to interject with and Gania had to restrain herself from kicking him off the plateau. She lead the way instead, walking with measured steps towards the tunnel that Ungart pointed out.

"Let's just get outta here." Atalanta said as she spat a mouthful of hay out of her huge lion mouth. "Before I can change my mind and use one of these fools as palate-cleanser."

The two dwarves and the gnome stayed in the field as they watched the adventurers wander off. It was not difficult to follow the path to the side of the cavern, although it could be a bit unnerving walking across the stone bridges that connected the plateaus. They were extremely narrow and had no guard rails. But soon the adventurers found themselves on solid ground inside of a stone tunnel.

The walls and floor appeared to be made of blocks of miscellaneous stone types, all glittering with tiny quartz crystals. They sparkled in the light of the periodic torches nestled along the wall. Any attempts to actually grab the torches, however, revealed them to be illusory in nature. The group traveled for at least an hour along this tunnel, with no hint at variance or changes in direction, before they finally came to another decision they would need to make.

They had reached a crossroads. The tunnel forked in three directions at once.

To the left led to a large room with a hole in the floor too far to jump across. Down into this hole there was a spiral staircase that descended into pitch blackness. The steps themselves appeared to be made of yellowed bone. Black moss hung from the walls. A chilling breeze whispered up from its depths.

The fork in the tunnel that led forward quickly came to a wall. And on that wall there was a square hole near the ground, just large enough to crawl into. A white haze billowed out from it lazily. The main thing that stood out about this hole, however, were its labels. All around its entrance there were glowing signs made of light that constantly blinked their messages. The signs had arrows that pointed to the hole and said things such as, "Enter for a good time!" "Paradise within!" "Not a trap!"

And lastly, the fork to the right led to a large door that looked like it belonged on a vault. It was made of thick bronze plates and was inlaid with curved glass tubes that ran from top to bottom. Inside these tubes brown sand constantly flowed downward, but never seemed to fill them. But in front of this door, a sphinx the size of a rhinoceros lounged lazily, wings in the air. When it sensed the group, its humanoid head turned and asked in a relaxed voice, "Care to try my riddle? Answer correctly and enter the chamber of treasures. Answer incorrectly..." It raised one paw and extended its massive claws, snatching at the air almost playfully.

What do you do?

---

Everyone
There are three directions you can choose to go. Four if you turn around. Which way do you choose?

"I hate riddles," Harlin growls. Before proceeding, the ranger inspects the floor for dust.
This message was last edited by the player at 00:18, Tue 12 Feb 2019.

Harlin, are you trying to drew conclusions about your surroundings based on the dust? If so, please make a Discern Realities roll for me. Even on a failure, ask one question.

Harlin mutters something in Elvish as he studies. Quickclaw also sniffs around the border of the intersection.

Yes. I wasn't even sure if there was enough information available to Discern Realities from.

15!

What here is not what it appears to be?
What is about to happen?
What should I be on the lookout for?

21:07, Today: Harlin Greenarrow rolled 15 using 2d6+3.  Discern Realities w/Quickclaw.

Not one to break a deal, Twessa dropped the old dwarf's pouch in the mud as they left the farm and entered the long, dull tunnel. She glanced at the stone walls as they walked by, recognising most of them readily. All the boringness of home with none of the opals. Probably. Twessa had only tried mining for a couple of weeks before she'd been guided towards the priesthood instead.

Then suddenly a choice! A small door with signs promising safety looked the best way to go, but there was a...thing here too. Before Twessa could call out to her friends to tell her what this weird liony thing was and ready her short sword, the sphinx offered its riddle - not just a fair(ish) offer to parley, but something fun! The little gnome gasped, and she pirouetted on her booted left foot to displace her excitement at this proposal.

"Whats the riddle?", Twessa blurted out, accepting the deal.

---

Twessa just really likes riddles. Please don't take wanting to hear the riddle as confirmation that she definitely wants to go through that door - happy for other to choose that.
This message was last edited by the player at 04:38, Tue 12 Feb 2019.

Gania observed their choices, weighing the dangers of the deep hole and the sphynx when Twessa spoke up. Suddenly the lion-bodied monster had all of the barbarian's attention. Gania came closer, standing a step behind the gnome, fearing what a wrong answer might entail.

The sphinx smiled at Twessa's words, then stretched with its hindquarters in the air and its front legs outstretched, like a cat. It extended its wings out and yawned wide before it folded its wings again and stood up. It smiled widely as it approached the group, walking with excessive casualness. "The Pact of the Riddle has been enacted. Do not betray the pact," it warned, even as it started lazily circling the group. "The riddle you are being presented is thus:

My hair is coarse, but not warm,
my shell hard like a turtle.
I provide you milk just like a cow,
but could never jump a hurdle.

What am I?"

The sphinx continued to circle lazily with a wry smile upon its face, waiting for an answer. "Feel free to discuss among yourselves. When you think you have come up with the answer, just say my name. Slarynthaal. Take as much time as you need. I'll be here for eons." Despite the sphinx's circling, it makes no effort to actually keep the group where it is.

Even as the sphinx said its piece, Harlin was busy trying to draw clues about their situation from what he found on the ground in the dust. Or lack thereof. While the ground here was far from spotless, it was not as filthy as one might expect. The area with the most dust was definitely the small hole in the wall though. There were many footprints that approached it, but scant few that actually entered the hole. And no footprints that exited it.

Over by the sphinx's door, the floor is marred with faint blood stains and signs of countless battles that have been fought there. The ranger even notices a few bones in the corners, now that he is looking. Even so, the sphinx's powerful body appears to be flawless. No battle scars of any sort. Either the sphinx is an exceptionally proficient warrior, or there are more powers at work here than meet the eye.

Still, there is no indication that any malevolent forces are going to suddenly jump out at the group. Not from the sphinx's door, not from the hole in the wall, and not even from the dark stairway of bone. The group could even feasibly take a rest while contemplating Slarynthaal's rhyme.

---

Everyone
The "Pact of the riddle" has been enacted on you, whatever that means (could Spout Lore to find out more). A simple Spout Lore roll won't solve the riddle for you, but it could give you clues. You may be able to figure it out on your own though too. It has an actual real-life answer.

Harlin
What here is not what it appears to be?
The sphinx does not posses any signs of ever having fought for its life despite there being plenty of evidence that it has been in many battles.

What is about to happen?
Nothing in the foreseeable future, until the group takes some sort of action. The group could even take a rest if they wanted to and remain in relative safety.

What should I be on the lookout for?
It seems not many people trust the messages posted above the small hole in the wall. Few footprints actually enter the hole, and none exit.

"Soybean?" Atalanta suggested, almost immediately. "Its fruit has coarse hairs and a hard shell but no body temperature, and it can be used to make soybean milk but it can't move like a cow."

"I have no better ideas, Atalanta. But before we give an answer, I think this would be a safe place to rest and let our spell-wielders refresh themselves. Some of us are injured, the place is little-trafficked, and it seems none of the three passages pose an immediate threat--unless we answer the riddle incorrectly."

Gania's frown deepened with each part of the riddle. She was ready to give up but as soon as she turned to see how others fared, Atalanta figured it out. Maybe. Druids and their plants. "If you say so." Gania never heard of such a thing even in her travels, but it was not what she was paying attention to. It seemed that there was something important regarding the Pact that Sphynx evoked, but exactly what was beyond her at the moment.

"But a bit of rest sounds even better." her bruises were mostly forgotten, but Twessa'a sacrifice in front of the twig was still fresh in her mind.

20:24, Today: Gania Flamekeeper rolled 5 using 2d6-1.  Sprout lore - what is the Pact Riddle.

"Psst, guys. The answer is coconut. Coarse hair, no body heat, really hard shell, 'gives' milk, doesn't move on its own. Anyone wanna stop me from saying it louder and getting this over with...?"

In reply to Istvan Vanoson (msg # 95):

"I think you're right, Istvan. But as I said, I think this would be a safe spot to rest and recover before we trigger whatever comes next. Our next opportunity might not be soon."

"Oh, I see what you mean. Good point."

Harlin volunteers to take a watch.

Marking off the ration. At the end of Make Camp, I'll be healed to full.

Take Watch 7

17:00, Today: Harlin Greenarrow rolled 7 using 2d6+1.  Take Watch.

Twessa deflated as her friends decided to delay answering the riddle. They were being sensible again, which was fine, but...there was a riddle! Istvan seemed confident he knew the answer, which Twessa would normally accept as a safe bet, but...what if its some weird croconut monster thing that only lives in the tapestry? Was it safe to assume the inside was like the outside when it came to weird lion things asking riddles? And...wouldn't it get bored waiting? It must be lonely, waiting forever in a tapestry for people to answer a riddle. How could that be fun? Oh well.

As the others settled in and made preparations for rest, Twessa began chanting and by walking traced a large circumference around the campsite, performing the sanctuary rote she'd first learned on her path. Once she'd shuffled a complete loop, the campsite became the centre of a shaft of blue, pink and green light, that shimmered and ascended into the stone above, and from there travelled to Sagrae knew where.

"I'll take first watch!", Twessa volunteered, and dropped to the ground to commune with her goddess beforehand. If anything went wrong, Sagrae would let her know.

---

After communing with Sagrae, Twessa waited for her friends to drift off to sleep, and then sneakily tiptoed to the edge of her circle. She'd had time enough to consider the lion beast's situation, and had thought of a treat for them.

"Psst! I have a riddle for you!", the mischievous gnome hissed, waving for the beast to come over.

In deepest darkness, bright I form
A rainbow sparkling like a storm,
Forged by heat, but now not warm,
All righteous gnomes I do adorn

What am I?"

"If you get it right, I'll give you seven gold coins, but if I win I get to ride you like a horse for a bit." Twessa grinned, rocking back and forth on her feet playfully, holding out the offered coinage in her palm. "Are you game? You can answer when we do if you like...or now...

---

Ration consumed. Yum. Taking first watch ideally.

16:03, Today: Twessa Dumdellin rolled 9 using 2d6+2.  Casting Sanctuary. I drop the spell, but get it back in Commune, so yay!

16:04, Today: Twessa Dumdellin rolled 11 using 2d6+2.  Take Watch.

16:12, Today: Twessa Dumdellin rolled 10 using 2d6+1.  Parley! A riddle for the sphinx if it wants.

(riddle answer: an opal. a real gimme, but maybe also a good test of if the tapestry forms opals differently, like from an opal bush or something bizarre)

This message was last edited by the player at 05:44, Thu 14 Feb 2019.

"Wake me if you need me to take a turn." Gania offered when they agreed on taking a breather in the relatively safe space. She gave a pointed look to Twessa when she volunteered for the first go, but didn't press the point. The gnome was clearly enchanted by the magical creature. "Is there a saying that something can do when there are no dragons around?" she wondered aloud as she settled down.

20:50, Today: Gania Flamekeeper rolled 6 using 2d6+1.  Take Watch, if needed.
Fun?
Restored HP - hope nothing disrupts the sleep.

"Oh." Atalanta blinked when she heard the answer coconut. "That does make more sense, yes." she nodded and shrugged; she wasn't too bothered by being outsmarted, since it's never one of her strong suite, and arcane casters like Istvan are know for their high intelligence. "Rest is good." she nodded again; she wasn't really hurt so she didn't need rest, but some of her companions surely do. "Anyone still want this chicken?" she asked as she produced the chicken she caught earlier, which was well-skinned but raw.

Will the group be roused from their rest by something? Yes (1), No (2)
17:47, Today: Dungeon Master rolled 1 using 1d2.  Rest interrupted?

During who's shift will it show up?: Twessa (1), Harlin (2), Gania (3)
17:49, Today: Dungeon Master rolled 3 using 1d3.  When does the interruption show up?
Congrats Gania, you get XP for your Take Watch roll!

---

Gania was not able to recall anything about sphinxes and Riddle Pacts, but she felt as if she had heard something about them before. A lost memory itching at the side of her brain. The memory still hadn't surfaced yet though as she made time to relax for a bit with the others.

Atalanta, up to take watch first, got through her spell preparations without any "baddies" popping up to interrupt her. None that she had noticed anyway. And with her rituals done, the gnome maiden offered her riddle to the sphinx. Slarynthaal had been lounging patiently against a wall and listened to Twessa's rhyme with content curiosity.

A sly knowing smile crossed the sphinx's lips as it responded to the gnome. "A fair riddle, as flawed as it may be. My first instinct would have been to answer "a dead star," but I dare to assume you do not know of such things. Fusion reactions and solar dynamos, refraction of light waves, expulsion of raw elements, etc. For all I know you still think stars are fireflies that got stuck in the sky. But what I do know about you is that you have been casting magic of the dragon goddess, and praying to her to replenish your divine energies. Quite curious for a gnome to be doing that. But still, it leads me to believe that from your perspective, righteous gnomes should be adorned with her colorful opals. So my answer is "an opal.""

The sphinx grinned again, seeing that it had guessed correctly. It stretched and stood up before looming over Twessa. "Keep your coins though. They are of no use to me." It leaned down low and offered its shoulder to the gnome. "One quick trot shouldn't hurt though. Hop on." Slarynthaal gave the cleric a short ride around the area, but never strayed too far from the door it guarded. Still, the sphinx seemed to be enjoying the ride almost as much as Tewssa. When it let her off again, it even commented, "I really hope I don't have to kill you later."

Harlin's shift was not nearly as eventful. The sphinx continued to lounge and all was quiet, save for the occasional snore or shuffle sound as a party member readjusted themselves. Quickclaw sat nearby gnawing on Atalanta's raw chicken. Or what was left of it anyway.

When Gania took over not much seemed to be happening either. It was easy for her mind to wander back to thinking about the "Pact of the Riddle" and how the memory was just out of reach. As the barbarian sat away from the others, she became lost in though without even realizing it. Her mind so thoroughly elsewhere that she failed to notice the thing that had approached the camp until it was too late.

The first thing Gania notices was a wet sensation near one of the rips in her garments. When she looked down she expected to see one of her wounds bleeding again, or maybe Harlin's cat licking her. But what she found was much stranger. Her mind failed to register it at first. Her lower half was blurry, like she had just woken up and her eyes had yet to adjust. But her upper half was in complete focus. Even stranger, her lower half was clean. All of the dried mud that had been caked on her from her swamp fiasco was now missing from the blurry portion of her body.

At this point, the wet sensation began to sting. Gania finally realized what she was looking at. A nearly transparent blob had slurped silently up to their camp and was now attempting to engulf her! She could already feel its acid working to dissolve her flesh. Before her very eyes, as her skin burned a small chunk of the blob broke off and began slurping toward where her comrades rested, completely unaware.

Twessa, with her Sanctuary spell cast, instantly woke up as the blob began engulfing Gania. But she was unable to locate the threat soon enough to give a proper warning.

What do you do?

---

Everyone
A nearly clear blob (now two) has caught the group unaware. The big one is trying to swallow Gania and its tiny spawn is heading toward the party members. Anyone awake might notice Gania, but anyone asleep would not have noticed anything wrong yet. It is close enough to the end of making camp that everyone receives their benefits from resting.

Also, everyone remember to add your End of Session XP if you haven't yet. If you have enough XP to use the Level Up move (8 XP), you can level up before this encounter. Otherwise you will have to wait until another appropriate In-Character time to do so.

Gania
Apparently luck is not on your side right now. Something approached camp on your watch, you didn't notice it, and it attacked you first. Take 1d8+1 damage that ignores armor. Don't forget to mark XP for both your failed rolls.

Twessa
First of all, the sphinx seemed to like your riddle. Secondly, your spell woke you up and you can see that something is up with Gania. Looks almost like she is being attacked by an ogre's sleeping bag made of clear water.

Istvan
What does Istvan think about how the adventure is going thus far? How does he feel seeing Gania, his traveling companion and fellow tribe-mate, being swallowed by a blob?

After spending her watch in Slarynthaal's company, sharing the riddles she knew, Twessa pondered whether she should share with her friends that she'd ridden the Pactlion's back. They probably wouldn't believe her, and it would complicate things if Istvan's answer to the riddle proved to be incorrect. And like her new friend, Twessa also hoped that blood wouldn't need to be spilled in the morning.

Once her watch had ended, the happy gnome slept well, and upon waking remembered she'd been dream of finding a dragon at the end of cave - she could tell by the sounds, the ebbing brightness of exuded flame far ahead, and the odd draft of warmth and something like dog's breath. But she'd been awakened when another dragon in the dream roared behind her - a roar of warning; a command to act.

Bleary-eyed, Twessa stumbled to her feet and quickly looked around. No kobolds, no goblins, no old dwarf come to steal her opals...but something had gotten onto Gania. Lacking a better idea of what to do, she kicked the person who'd been sleeping nearest to her (sorry, Harlin!), drew her shortsword, and screeched loudly like a dragon whelp to wake the others.

Harlin jumped up. What? What was that? And there was another one!

He grabbed up his broken spear shaft and stabbed at the one that was not enveloping his friend, paying close attention to how it reacted to a thrusting weapon.

Hack and Slash hits with an 8 (it attacks me) for 5 damage. Quickclaw is not helping.

Discern Realities 8 (with Quickclaw). My real question is what kinds of weapon attacks will be more or less effective. If it has to be one from the list, I guess the closest is "what is about to happen."

17:13, Today: Harlin Greenarrow rolled 8 using 2d6+3.  Discern Realities re blobby.
17:12, Today: Harlin Greenarrow rolled 5 using 1d8.  Damage withOUT companion.
17:12, Today: Harlin Greenarrow rolled 7 using 2d6.  Hack and Slash small blob. should be 8, I forgot to add STR

Atalanta, always a light sleeper like a lion and wasn't in as much need of rest either way, woke up from her shallow dream and noticed that something's wrong fairly quickly, though it took her a while to take stock and figure out just what in Nine Hells it was.

OOC:
Discern Realities: Atalanta rolled 13 using 2d6+3
My REAL question is more like "What the hell is that thing!?", but from the list:
What should I be on the lookout for?
What here is useful or valuable to me?
What here is not what it appears to be?
This message was last edited by the player at 05:10, Sun 17 Feb 2019.

While Twessa's screech was more than enough to wake the others, Gania added her own yell, more in frustration than the pain. Once she realized the danger she was in, the barbarian moved to action. Years of living in the desert meant encountering sand traps. While the slime was more clingy, same principles applied. She found a handhold on the cave's wall and started pulling herself out, alternating the movements between the legs.

15:53, Today: Gania Flamekeeper rolled 5 using 1d8+1.  Damage from blob.
17:41, Today: Gania Flamekeeper rolled 12 using 2d6+2.  Defy slime (Str).
This message was last edited by the player at 17:08, Sun 17 Feb 2019.

What? What was going on? Istvan looked around.

Ah. Slime monsters of some sort. Of course. Typical for this adventure. Sure, it seemed like things were often trying to kill him and Gania outside this tapestry, but there was a sort of predictability to it. In bugbear country? Probably bugbears would try to kill you next. Vegetation clear-cut for miles around? Giant insects, maybe. On the road? Bandits. Here in the tapestry, though, it seemed like it was every threat for itself, first-come first-serve. Istvan was barely all right with nice surprises. The novelty of completely-unpredictable surprises trying to kill him had now completely worn off.

Well, that big thing was not only smothering Gania, it seemed to be burning her like acid, too... Istvan hated to risk his daggers against it-- and they weren't the right tool for the right job, anyway. (What would he do if he ever lost both his daggers? Why didn't he think to bring spares? Istvan resolved to start collecting spare daggers...)

(Istvan uses one use of Adventuring Gear)

Fortunately, Istvan was not a complete idiot. He rummaged through his gear and pulled out an ironwood stick... very thin, and very flat, about 2 inches wide and 2 feet long. A cleric-thief of Olalla, god of thieves and generosity (sometimes rather heavily-enforced generosity) had given the stick to Istvan. It was meant to be stuck through a barred door, so one could try to lift off the bar from the other side... but it was long, flat, scrape-y, and, since it was made of ironwood, was almost unbreakable and fairly acid-proof. It might be the perfect tool for trying to get that thing off Gania in a hurry... or for whomever such a blob might turn on next...

(INT, WIS, and CHR are Istvan's wheelhouse, so since INT and WIS rolls are happening already and he can't use his magic without his daggers, he's just gonna stand ready...)

With her fingers grasping onto the stone blocks, Gania was able to pull herself from the blob's grip. But not without sustaining substantial acid burns on her legs. The fabric on the lower part of her outfit seemed thinner now too, like it had been washed too many times. The blob continued to move toward the barbarian to try and absorb her once again.

Meanwhile, Harlin stabbed into the smaller blob with his weapon, and it easily pierced through the thin membrane that held in its innards and out the other side. Clear blue gloop splooshed out from both openings and the blob deflated proportionately. However, the membrane healed incredibly quickly and the nearly-deflated blob moved up the spear haft that had pierced it and latched around Harlin's arm. The ranger could immediately feel the ooze's acid eating at his skin as it seeped through his clothing. The ooze seemed to get stronger as its acid did its work.

As Istvan, Twessa, and Atalanta looked for the best way to help, the image of the oozes sparked one of Atalanta's memories. She had seen a creature like this before, but on a much smaller scale. Like, insect-sized scale. When conditions were right, they would ooze up from the ground to feed and multiply. She had seen the smaller version decimate entire ant colonies. Every time the ants bit them, they would swarm over the ant and use it as fuel to regenerate its own injuries.

But some colonies would survive by simply denying them anything to absorb. Which, admittedly, was easier for ants since they could climb walls.

What do you do?

---

Gania
You escaped the blob, but it will be on you again in just a moment if you don't do something to prevent it.

Harlin
Take 1d8+1 damage, ignoring armor.

What is about to happen?
Piercing and cutting weapons seem perfectly effective against its thin skin. The main hindrance is how quickly it heals up and its lack of vital organs. So "what is about to happen" is that it is about to heal up from the damage you managed to deal to it.

Atalanta
I treated your Discern Realities roll as a Spout Lore roll, as we discussed in the OOC thread.

Spout Lore - What the hell is that thing!?
They are much larger versions of an insect-sized ooze creature you have seen before. They will continue to regenerate (and possibly multiply) so long as they have a food source. Tell me, what are these regenerating oozes called?

3 damage while I ponder my turn. Could be worse.

16:07, Today: Harlin Greenarrow rolled 3 using 1d8+1.  Damage taken.

"Is that...is that a Widow's Tear!?" Atalanta blinked in shock when she recognized the creature. It's not that they're uncommon; quite the contrary, they appear anywhere with significant insect populations, which includes the great plains where she hails from. The thing is, though, they're called Widow's Tear because their favorite preys are the black widows, and: "They are supposed to be about the size of a spider." she had never seen, or even heard of, Tears large enough to attack people. "We need to get them away from things they can absorb." she told her companions as she pondered what to do next. "Otherwise they'll just keep regenerating any damage we inflict on them."

Gania found her footing and she managed to catch a single breath before she had to move. Her blade was still next to her bedroll, and the ooze. "Or destroy them fast enough." She offered her own brand of wisdom as her eyes turned slightly orange, the frustration with the creature rising in her. Heedless of danger, she hurried forward and grabbed her blade just as the ooze reached for her arms. With a heave, she swung her greatsword - aiming to send it flying towards the wall where it would hopefully splatter stay stuck.

13:48, Today: Gania Flamekeeper rolled 3,3 using 1d8,1d6.  Conquest slash the ooze.
13:48, Today: Gania Flamekeeper rolled 8 using 1d10+1.  Damage.
Hack and slash: 8 (3+3+2)
8 damage; The attack is also forceful and messy. What could possibly go wrong?

"Shove them off of you and run for the vault!" Harlin cries out. "Slarynthaal, the answer is 'coconut'!" Harlin tries to scrape the ooze off his arm with the spear haft before the acid can get any stronger. Regardless, he heads for the vault door.

Defy Danger (Str) 8: worse outcome, hard bargain, or ugly choice

10:38, Today: Harlin Greenarrow rolled 8 using 2d6+1.  Defy Danger (Str) to shove slime off.

Oh! After her fruitless and uncertain dithering, caused by doubt that a shortsword would even do anything to these slimy things, Twessa's druid frenemy inadvertently reminded her of other slimy things she'd dealt with in the past - some quite delicious (to a gnome's taste) but all quite dead with enough salt to preserve them.

"Don't worry, I've got an idea!", Twessa shouted, and rummaged in her pack for the secret to Squish Jerky, Tasty Crunch Fillets, and many more delicacies of the Frozen North - amethyst-colored rock salt from the Crevasse, ground up for easy sprinkling.

Twessa carefully unsealed the jar, gave it a quick shake to confirm the salt hadn't clogged up, and with reluctance gripped both sides of the jar and thrusted up, hoping to cover the ooze with a shower of water-leeching crystals.

---

Twessa marks off one use of Adventuring Gear to produce a jar of Preserving Salt.

05:21, Today: Twessa Dumdellin rolled 8 using 2d6+1.  Defy Danger (Str) to shower salt upon the slimes.

Dear DM, a Worse Outcome/Hard Bargain/Ugly Choice please

Istvan sees that there's not currently any way he can try to help-- not enough, anyway. He heads for the vault doors...

"What coconut?" Atalanta blinked in confusion, obviously already forgetting all about the riddle, until she saw Istvan bolting for the vault doors. "Oh right, the riddles!" she clapped her hands in understanding, before she followed after the arcane duelist.

Gania's blade caught the ooze just in the nick of time before it managed to engulf the barbarian once again. Her upward slice bit into its flesh and sliced it nearly in half. Clear acidic digestive juices sprayed from the gash and bathed Gania as it tumbled backward through the air and landed against the wall. Despite the wound that would be lethal to most creatures, the huge Widow's Tear already seemed to be pulling itself back into one cohesive amorphous shape.

That is, until Twessa showered it with her amethyst salt. As the cloud of minerals coated both oozes and several of her companions, the sliced Widow's Tear looked like its regenerative abilities had stalled out. It pulled itself together more slowly and juices continued to leak out in a few spots. However, they appeared otherwise unphased.

The ooze on Harlin's arm clung tightly to the ranger, resisting the elf's attempts to dislodge it even as he approached the vault and called out the riddle's answer. Slarynthaal, who had been lounging calmly near the vault door and watching the spectacle, lazily stood up. "Well done. You have earned your entrance to the chamber of treasures." Slarynthaal then turned toward the door, sat on their haunches, and the sphinx's eyes glowed an eerie purple hue. The sand falling within the ornate brass door stopped in mid air, then the entire door turned into sand and crumbled into a heap on the floor. A square limestone hall led into the wall beyond, going roughly 100 feet before turning sharply to the left.

As Atalanta and Istvan make it into the passage first, they can see the walls are covered in carved images and pictographs. Each wall had a different scene depicted. And bizarrely, the one Atalanta looked at appeared to hold an image depicting Istvan, and the one Istvan looked at appeared to hold an image depicting Atalanta...

What do you do?

---

Atalanta and Istvan
You easily make your way into the vault the sphinx has opened. Each of you, tell me what scene is depicted along one of the walls containing your fellow adventurer.

Harlin
You can either get the slime off and take another 1d8+1 damage ignoring armor, or the slime remains on your arm but you take no damage from it as you attempt to pry it free. Either way, you can make it to the vault.

Twessa
That seems like it might be more of a Defy Danger with Int, but I'll give it to you. It probably does take quite a bit of strength to spread the salt far and wide enough to effectively coat both oozes. The salt didn't appear to actually hurt them like you hoped, but it does seem to be repressing their regenerative abilities.

Gania
Your attack worked, but was perhaps messier than you anticipated. You were splattered with its acidic inner juices. Take 1d8+1 damage. I will let you apply armor for this one though.

Beginning to panic as the burning intensifies, Harlin leaves skin and blood behind as he scrapes the ooze off his arm and dives through the doorway.

7 damage.

12:11, Today: Harlin Greenarrow rolled 7 using 1d8+1.  Ooze damage.

Somewhat satisfied with her attack, Gania retreated with the others. As she moved past the Sphynx the barbarian glanced at the eyes returning to the normal color "Be careful around that." she had no idea how the Tear and the guardian would act around one another. "Will the door close after us?" she asked at the threshold, waiting for Tweesa and Harlin to pass through.

18:18, Today: Gania Flamekeeper rolled 3 using 1d8.  Splatter damage.

"Huh?" Atalanta blinked when she noticed Istvan's image on the wall; sure, the figure was pretty small, but it was unmistakably him, right down to his hair. He seemed like he was about to be eaten by some kind of hydra...worm...thingy, with half of his body inside one of its nine maws. So is this the great danger the spirits warned me about?

OOC: Can I resolve "The spirits spoke to me of a great danger that follows Istvan" and replaces it with "I must protect Istvan from the hydra...worm...thingy" at the end of session?

Istvan studied the wall images-- it was easy to explain why the figure that seemed to be Atalanta drew his eyes to it-- someone had painted it... And the results were extremely unnerving. It looked like the druid had tried to turn into an animal-- something with paws, maybe? Maybe not... but something had gone very wrong-- the result was twisted, misshapen.

There were other animals all around her, four-legged things... Had she been trying to turn into one of them and it failed? Or were they forcing her to change, somehow, and it'd gone wrong? Or had they caused it to go wrong?

He wished he could tell more about what they were, but they weren't painted at all, weren't nearly as (gruesomely) detailed as Atalanta herself...

After the shower of lilac salt settled, Twessa couldn't help but worry that she'd wasted her preserving salt - a valuable provision she'd not likely find again without returning home. She'd hoped that maybe the goop might've felt pain and backed off, or started violently bubbling to its death, or just curled up and stopped moving, but...no. The slime leaking a bit was all Twessa got.

Aware that her travelling companions had all run off into the vault, Twessa was torn. She needed to stay with her friends (particularly Gania, who'd been the slime's tastiest target - how did all these things keep just knowing how precious the Emberstorm warrior was???), but the loyal servant of Sagrae couldn't just leave Slarynthaal behind in imminent danger. Not only was it impolite, but it felt...wrong. How could she leave a civil and friendly creature behind to fend for themselves like this, when she had no idea of its true power?

The Pactlion was smart, but smart didn't always matter. Slime didn't need nor care for smart. Neither did swords. Twessa swung hers, and hoped steel and salt would be enough.

But she did need to think about retreat though...so...uh...

"Pactlion, do you need my help?", Twessa called out, instinctively turning her head to gauge Slarynthaal's response.

---

03:17, Today: Twessa Dumdellin rolled 4 using 2d6.  Hack & Slash at the slime with shortsword.

Well, shit.

In reply to Gania, Slarynthaal said, "The door is already closing. See?" Sure enough, the sand that had crumbled to the floor when the door opened was already slowly reforming into its original shape. It looked to be starting at the edges of the doorway and slowly filling in the center area. There was maybe a minute before it would seal off completely. Maybe less.

"Once the door closes, another riddle will need to be answered to open it again." Slarynthaal said this to the four adventurers who had already made it into the doorway. The sphinx curled around and lay lazily next to its door once again, then said to Twessa, "Do not fret about me." Slarynthaal yawned. "I am quite capable."

The sphinx watched the gnome with mild curiosity as Twessa attempted to fend off the two oozes. And Slarynthaal made no move to assist Tweessa as it watched the Widow's Tears surge over the gnome, engulfing her under their masses. The oozes seemed almost desperate to engulf something, anything, in an effort to reheal their wounds.

What do you do?

---

Twessa
The oozes have surged over you, engulfing you with their bodies in a desperate attempt to heal themselves (although the salt prevents the healing). Take 1d8+2 damage that ignores armor. What do you do to avoid drowning in an oozy mass?

Gania, Harlin, Istvan, and Atalanta
You are all relatively safe inside the doorway, which has started to reseal itself. You all see Twessa still outside the door, engulfed by the Widows Tears. How do you handle this situation?

Atalanta
That seems like a reasonable way to resolve that Bond, once we get to End of Session.

Betrayed by a Pactlion she'd presumed a friend, her engulfment took Twessa by surprise, and...she had almost nothing. The lazing lion just watched as she struggled, and her friends had moved to a safe place, as they ought to have. As she ought to have. Why hadn't she? A good question for a quieter, less slimed time.

The sword hadn't worked, Sagrae's blessings wouldn't help, and a gnome could only hold her breath for so long. Not to mention a magic door of sand slowly reforming, the grains floating slowly inexorably towards solidity. Huh.

The slime was strong. Stronger than magic sand? It was worth finding out.

Clenching her teeth to distract from the pain, Twessa rolled across the ground towards the door, hoping the slime picked up whatever salt had fallen straight to the ground, and when she could roll close enough, hopefully quite a bit of doorsand.

---

03:14, Today: Twessa Dumdellin rolled 4 using 1d8+2.  Damage taken by ooze.

05:54, Today: Twessa Dumdellin rolled 7 using 2d6.  Drag the slime to the magic sand (Defy danger str).

The theory is that engulfing magic door sand might be quite painful for a slime when the sand perforates it on the way out? *crosses fingers*

Gania watched the gate starting to reform and then her eyes went wide as Twessa attacked the slime, and got engulfed by it. "Help her!" she pleaded "Help her and I will tell you a riddle no wise man of our world could answer." She wasn't sure how the sphinx would take a lack of definitive answer, but her being quite capable was the quickest way to save Twessa.

20:37, Today: Gania Flamekeeper rolled 5 using 2d6.  Parley with sphinx.

At Gania's words, Slarynthaal looked over to the barbarian as if the sphinx were contemplating her words. All the while, Twessa hovered inside a slime ball near the entrance to the door. She couldn't get over the mound of sand in her current state, but the sand that the ooze did pick up seemed to be doing as Twessa desired. Ripping through it and causing it to break apart. She could tell she would get away eventually, but not before the door closed.

Then, Slarynthaal's eyes glowed purple again and the partially formed door disappeared. it instantly reappeared directly behind the adventurers, blocking their path down the hall. The door was nearly complete at this point and still in the process of closing. "I agree to your terms," the sphinx said to Gania.

In a flash Slarynthaal went from lounging lazily to springing through the air, wings spread and claws extended. With swipes of its massive paws almost faster than the eye could see, the sphinx eviscerated the Widow's Tear in a shower of ooze-puree. The ooze's innards sloshed across the floor and splatted the walls, leaving nothing behind but a lone gnome on the stone floor. Slarynthaal calmly licked their paw clean as they stood imposingly over Twessa. "Now," the sphinx asked between licks, "what was that riddle no wise man of your world could answer? I do hope it is satisfactorily challenging." There was an air of threat in the sphinx's voice, implying that if the riddle was sub-par then there would be consequences.

What do you do?

---

Slarynthaal agreed to save Twessa in order to hear Gania's riddle. However, the sphinx moved the door too, cutting off access to the treasure chamber once again.

Gania took a deep breath when Slarynthaal agreed to her request and held it. Her head turned as the door shifted but quickly returned to see Twessa being freed. Then the moment she feared came. She slowly let out the air she was holding until her lungs were empty. She met the feline eyes and nodded. "I need a moment to put it into words." she sat on the floor cross-legged and pulled back the right sleeve. "And thank you." The fingers of her left hand traced the lines of the bracelet that covered her forearm.

Do I write XP for Parley?
Both Gania and I need a bit. I hope to post the riddle tomorrow. Do post in the mean time.

Twessa wheezed in a grateful breath, and rolled out of the remaining pool of slime before it could harm her further. She continued breathing heavily as she tried to put the last few moments into some sort of order.

The door thing had worked, but slowly. The Pactlion had been fast. Gania had saved her by saying something about riddles, and now the door was almost closed, which meant...what. Another riddle to follow their friends?

When her breathing had steadied enough to speak again, Twessa propped herself up on her elbows and asked, "Is everyone else all right in there?"

Harlin looked at the angry weals on his arms. "It will leave a mark, but we're all alive. Glad to see the same of you."

Harlin hoped Gania knew what she was doing . . .

Could use a heal when you have a chance, truth be told. HP in bio.

"Take your time," the sphinx replied to Gania as it continued to lick its paw. "The wording of riddles is important, and I am in no hurry."

As the last of the sand rejoined the door, Twessa could finally make out the forms of her companions as the dust cloud dissipated. It seemed everyone ended up on the same side of the door in the end. The door itself, which the shpinx had somehow shifted to behind the party, now slowly inched forward toward its original resting spot. The slow grinding sound it made as it moved was a gentle warning to Atalanta, Gania, Harlin, and Istvan that they would all soon be gently pushed out of the hall they were standing in.

---

To clarify, everyone is still standing on the same side of the door, waiting for Gania to tell the sphinx her riddle. The door formed on the far side of the group and will soon shove them out into the crossroads once more. The moving door is not a danger though.

At Harlin's plea, Twessa groggily got to her feet and wandered towards her friend. She reached out for his arm, and put in what was frankly a mediocre effort to call on Sagrae's healing grace - no elaborate dance, just a methodic shuffling of feet. Perhaps being engulfed had taken a bit more out of the cleric than she'd thought.

---

07:33, Today: Twessa Dumdellin rolled 8 using 2d6+2.  Healin' Harlin (Cast a Spell).

I can't afford to lose my only heal right after sleeping, nor take a -1 penalty to all spells. I'll take some Unwelcome Attention or Putting Myself In A Spot.

07:36, Today: Twessa Dumdellin rolled 1 using 1d8.  Damage healed (Harlin).

1 damage healed yeeeeeah! WORTH IT!

Gania rose when the rolling door reached her. She moved further down the corridor to the sphinx. She tried to meet Slarynthaal's eyes but the barbarian kept glancing at the paws hiding claws which could slice her in half just as easily as they did the Widow's Tear.

In the end, Gania closed her eyes and spoke, concentration on the task causing her words to come out slow and in a deeper voice
"The twin flames of Emberstorm burn in living hearts.
  One to watch the tribe, other to keep the flame burning.
  To be spread the flame must consume its keeper.
 What can separate the flame and the one that carries it?
 What can alter her fate and let her live past the birth?"

"I'll take an answer to either question." Gania said and opened her eyes slowly.

Slarynthaal eyed Gania suspiciously, as if it suspected she was using her riddle as a way to extract the sphinx's information. But the look quickly passed as it began contemplating the riddle in earnest. Apparently no riddle rules had been broken.

As the great beast returned to a lounging position it spoke up once again. "My my, that is quite the brain-bender, isn't it? Akin to "how does one remove the salt from saltwater without getting rid of the water." Yes, I think this one will occupy my thoughts for quite some time. A couple of weeks at least. Maybe a month..." Slarynthaal's eyes drifted toward Atalanta before glazing over for a moment as the sphinx got lost in thought. Then it shook its head clear and refocused on the party. "I suspect the answer is connected to the one with the nice tail. And the strong transformative forces of nature that flow through her veins. But as I said, I will need to contemplate this for quite some time. Do you care to wait for my answer? Or are you in the typical rush that you mortals find so necessary? I can tell another riddle if you would like to attempt to open the vault again." The sphinx flicked its own lion-like tail as it awaited the party's answer.

Meanwhile, as this was going on, Twessa was channeling her magic into Harlin in quite a lackluster fashion. Not only did Twessa's lack of effort result in only the smallest amount of healing to take effect on her friend, but the gnome could also feel Sagrae's ire building in her. Apparently the dragon-goddess felt the gnome's attitude was an affront to her personally, because Twessa's skin began to take on a truly unsettling feature.

What do you do?

---

Gania
The sphinx seems to like your riddle, but does not seem likely to answer it any time in the near future.

Twessa
You slacked on your religious casting, and your goddess has taken notice. You gain the Scarrred debility (-1 to Cha rolls) until you can appease her with an appropriate tribute. How does the scar manifest?

Atalanta, Istvan, and Harlin
Scars just appeared on Twessa and Gania might be tempted to sit here for a month. What do you three make of all of this? What action would you like your party to take?

"Uh thanks?" Atalanta blinked in surprise when Slarynthaal referred to her as "the one with the nice tail", her tail flicking from side to side idly; she had not anticipated to connect with the sphinx over such a matter. "...That looks bad." however, her focus quickly turned to Twessa, whom had just scarred herself with her own magic. "You truly need to toughen up," Atalanta said as she knelt down on one knee and started to apply the poultices and herbs she brought with her onto the scars. "Otherwise the world will just eat you alive." her herbal remedy might not be as convenient and immediate as the gnome's healing magic, but they can do wonders when it comes to long-term treatments.

OOC: Do I need to roll anything to use my poultices and herbs?

Harlin's jaw dropped, even as the pain lessened slightly. "Gods, Twessa, what happened?" Then his attention was caught by Gania's "riddle." Oh, well played.

"Should we ask for the next riddle? If we can't think of the answer, we can take one of the other exits. And ask for Gania's answer on the way back through? Gania, is that acceptable?"

Twessa recoiled at Sagrae's polite reprimand, her head turned by the invisible flick of a dragon's claw - a minor correction from one as powerful as the Opal Queen, of force that a whelp would barely feel. But a gnome...

Shocked, the faithful young cleric raised a hand to her face, feeling for dripping blood as she traced a raised line across her left cheek down and across her lips to the tip of her chin, but despite the sharp sting of divine disfavor nothing stained Twessa's fingertips.

"I...no, I'm fine", said Twessa, holding up her hands to ward Atalanta away as she approached, uncertain and fearful of how Sagrae might react if her warning was tampered with. "I was...sloppy. Its my fault, but I'll be fine, really. Thank you."

Gania considered sphinx's comparison and mention of Atalanta with a slightly tilted head. "If you offer anything, it will be more than I got in the last five years." she said with a bow. "I cannot wait here for the answer, as much as I look forward to it."

The barbarian already started turning away when a thought struck her "Can you let us know somehow when you are ready to answer?" She also nodded at Harlin's suggestion "Can we opt not to answer the new riddle for the treasure room?"

Istvan kept his mouth shut. He wasn't pleased that the team's cleric seemed to be in trouble with her deity. He also didn't really want to come back this way-- who knew how far they'd have to come to do so... and then to find the exit, then come back here, and then go BACK to wherever they found the exit?

But... he couldn't blame Gania... He probably would have done the same... And they couldn't just stay here... What would they eat, for one thing... And for another, there were Widow's Tears and the locals didn't like the party, either!

It was probably best to just keep going. If it helped Gania... he'd come back with her if he had to.

The sphinx shook its head solemnly when Gania asked if it would be able to give her an answer at a future time. "I am sorry, but I have no way of communicationg of great distances. If you were able to provide me with one, I would be more than happy to utilize it. Otherwise you will need to return here." Slarynthaal then switched to the matter of the riddle-rules.

"If you would like to try and open the vault again, once you agree to hear my riddle, the Pact is enacted. An agreement that we shall not raise arms against the other while the riddle remains unanswered. A correct answer opens the vault, and an incorrect answer ends in your quick and violent death." Slarynthaal extended their claws menacingly once again. "I will only ask you a single riddle to open the door so long as the pact is in place, but there is no time limit. And no proximity requirements..." The sphinx did not explicitly say they were allowed to wander off mid-riddle, but it was heavily implied. "Would you care to hear my riddle?"

What do you do?

---

Atalanta
Poultices and herbs do not require a roll. Only sufficient time to apply them. Which you have.

"Okay then." Atalanta shrugged when Twessa refused her help, the faint smell of blood making her nose tingle; now more than ever, the gnome smelled like a prey - a wounded one, at that - than a predator, and Atalanta decided that she should use her resources to help those who could still help themselves. "You need a hand?" she asked when she approached Harlin, but the herbs she had in hand as well as the way she handled them were very different from when she was trying to apply them to Twessa. "...Don't tell anyone about this." she said with a finger on her lips. "This remedy is for the children of the plains only."

OOC: ...Yes, I'm trying very hard to make those Bonds work.

Harlin nodded, but couldn't help sighing loudly as the poultices eased his burns. "Many thanks," he said softly.

Twessa stepped further away from Atalanta, concerned that the druid had become by the heightened awareness that sometimes followed a fight. Flared nostrils and a too-steady gaze were too much for a gnome already reeling from a draconic rebuke.

"Tell us the next riddle, please...", she said quietly, seeking a distraction.
This message was last edited by the player at 18:51, Fri 08 Mar 2019.

The sphinx sat up on its haunches once more and nodded to Twessa. "Very well. The Pact of the Riddle has been enacted. Do not betray the pact." Then Slarynthaal breathed deep before reciting its riddle. A riddle that sounded extremely familiar. Especially to Twessa.

"In deepest darkness, bright I form
A rainbow sparkling like a storm,
Forged by heat, but now not warm,
All righteous gnomes I do adorn"

"This is not an answer at this time. Do righteous gnomes wear diamonds?" Harlin muses to his friends.

"Wuh..."

With narrowed eyes, Twessa studied the Pactlion, looking for a reason to disbelieve what had just been said.

Was this how it worked? And did Slarynthaal think up the croconut riddle or did they take it from the last person that told them a riddle? Or was Slarynthaal being kind by asking a riddle she definitely knew the answer to?

Twessa snorted in amusement at Harlin's guess, and wondered if she should wait longer for wrong answers, and maybe impress people when she knew the answer after everyone else got it wrong. But...what if they got it right? The gnomes eyes flickered over that smart fellow Istvan briefly, prompting Twessa to take the floating gift before someone else fished it out.

"The answer is...an opal."

"Opal... is correct," Slarynthaal said with a smile. The sphinx's eyes glowed their familiar purple hue and the door to the hall crumbled opened once again.

What do you do?

"I think we'd better take advantage while we can," Harlin said. He stepped through the doorway and into the hall so the others could follow.

First Gania's eyes and then her smile widened, and she started forward. "Thank you once again." she said with a bow to the magical creature "If I can, I'll return to hear your answer." she continued after Harlin.

Istvan was somewhat pleased with the way this turned out. Istvan liked treasure, but he was also glad that his opinion of the sphinx's character was seemingly confirmed. Made him think that maybe if he and Gania and the group (because how could they survive in here without the rest of the group?) came back this way, that perhaps they might be able to have faith in the answer they got.

He followed Gania.

Twessa smiled in relief that the riddle hadn't been a trick (she'd not memorised all of the talk of stars and such the Pactlion had offered when they'd answered), and walked into the treasure room.

"Thank you!", she called as the door began to reform, and confidently added. "We'll be back!"

Slarynthaal bowed politely as the party entered the now-exposed hall that would lead to the chamber of treasures. "I look forward to giving it to you," the sphinx said in response to Gania. Before long, the door had reformed once again, sealing the group off from the tunnel they had exited.

The hall still looked as it had before. Square and made of limestone. It continued directly forward for roughly 100 feet before turning sharply to the left. The walls still contained the same carvings too. One along each wall. One of which portrayed a likeness of Istvan being consumed by a hydra-like creature, the other portraying a likeness of Atalanta going through a horrifying transformation.

When they reached the corner, they turned to meet a nearly identical hall that went for another 100 feet before turning sharply to the left. The wall carvings here were different though, and did not portray any familiar faces.

And then the party turned left again to find another similar hall.

And then again, and again, and again.

Eight times the party went 100 feet and turned left, only to find another hall with brand new artwork. By all accounts they should have ended up in the passage where they had started, and yet, they had not. The architecture of the halls did not make sense. It defied the laws of the natural world.

But eventually the group did emerge into a chamber. And a grand one at that.

The room was three stories tall and just as wide. It had an arched ceiling open along its center, reinforced with six enormous golden pillars. Light flooded down from above, like a hot dessert sun. Sand occasionally peppered down from above, yet the floor looked spotless. Along the walls to each side were glass windows with etchings scratched around their frames. There were three windows on the left and three on the right. And behind each window was a single object on display, but they were difficult to make out from the doorway.

Despite all of the wondrous things to look at around the room, what probably stood out the most was probably the enormous stone sarcophagus laying down the center of the room, right amid the rays beaming down from above. It was easily twenty feet in length and had its cover leaning against it, both inscribed with art and pictographs. Inside was the mummified body of a creature nearly as large. Humanoid, but definitely not human, and wrapped in fine white linens.

What do you do?

Gania tracked through the impossible corridors, curiosity turning more and more to frustration with each turn. She started grumbling at the fifth twist and on the seventh she punched the wall, the pain giving her some comfort. Fortunately, they reached the chamber before she did something more severe.

"Oh my..." the barbarian said under her breath as she took in the majesty of the room. She breathed in the heat and sand and they brought a mix of feelings back "Just like home." she remarked to Istvan, her tone mostly sour.

"Does anyone have an idea what is that?" she asked pointing her blade at sarcophagus and its inhabitant. Giving it the wide berth, she moved to the first of the windows on their left.

"Aren't these things usually called mummies?" Atalanta answered Gania's question with a question, before she realized: "...Oh! You meant what it was when it was alive?" she stepped forward to take a better look, but didn't get too close just in case it comes alive. "Nope, not a clue." she shook her head and shrugged, before moving to examine the window to their right.

As they progressed down the hallways, the unnatural nature of this cave particularly affected Twessa. She'd been wandering around caves most of her life, and her gut told her this was very wrong.

Also wrong was that it seemed like someone else had already been in the `treasure' room (not the way Twessa would describe a grave!), because why else would the coffin be open? And even though worshippers of Sagrae favored conflagration of the dead, leaving the lid off the coffin felt rude. Not quite sacrilegious, but close.

"Could someone help me with the lid, please?", Twessa asked, crouching by the head of it.

Istvan struggled to think... had he ever heard of anything that could give him some insight into the mummy in the room?

(Spout Lore: 10:52, Today: Istvan Vanoson rolled 4 using 2d6+2 ((1,1)). Snake Eyes Fail.)

The answer came echoing back from each corner of Istvan's brain: Nope.

"I appreciate the sentiment, Twessa, but I don't think all of us working together could lift that. Can anyone make any sense of the carvings?" Harlin knelt to study it. Something seemed familiar about the style of art.

Spout Lore 8.

16:14, Today: Harlin Greenarrow rolled 8 using 2d6-1.  Spout Lore.
This message was last edited by the player at 20:17, Wed 13 Mar 2019.

Twessa quickly realized that Harlin's assessment was correct. The twenty foot stone lid of the sarcophagus would be difficult for the entire party to move, much less lift.

As Harlin examined the carvings on the sarcophagus, he quickly realized that many of the pictographs were not words or letters, but runes. Magical symbols used to create wards, curses, and other magical effects. There were so many of them though that it was difficult to determine what their exact purpose might be.

Meanwhile, Istvan had approached the body itself to try and figure out what sort of creature had been mummified. While he may not have been able to tell the name of the species, he could still tell that it had a canine-like head with long ears and a long snout. There were still a few strands of hair on the dried flesh peeking through the wrappings. Its long arms and legs were withered from age, but still looked powerful regardless. Long claws also protruded from its fingertips. And laying next to the body were various-sized clay jars. Probably containing organs extracted during the mummification process.

As Istvan's hand absentmindedly brushed the lid of one of these clay jars, the creature's eyes opened. Its body remained motionless as ever, but its two enormous piercing ice-blue eyes stared directly at Istvan. He could feel it watching him with overwhelming scrutiny. What's more, even though its eyes were clearly focused on the Istvan, he could feel it watching the others just as closely.

As the mummy stared daggers into Istvan's soul, Gania and Atlanta looked to see what they could see in the rune-etched windows. To the left, Gania found an ornate glaive on display. Its handle was carved into the shape of a powerful snake. Next was a golden scepter with a hooked end. A crook. And the last window displayed a simple perfectly square shield, but made of a metal Gania had never seen before.

To the right, Atalanta saw an ornate headdress, made of lavish materials and precious metals. (Think of a stereotypical pharaoh hat.) Next was a suit of scalemail, but the scales appeared to be golden scarabs. Atalanta could almost swear she saw one move. And the last window displayed a large glass beaker with a stopper on top. Inside was a translucent brown liquid with a syrupy look to it.

On the wall behind each object inside the display area, was an inaccessible door with an artwork depicting someone using the objects. It was not immediately clear what all of them did, but it was clear that all of them were magical.

What do you do?

---

Everyone
Anyone who studies the objects and artworks behind them can try to Discern Realities or Spout Lore to determine what they do. I'll only require one roll for each wall though, instead of one for each object.

Harlin
You can tell that the writings and pictures are interlaced with magical runes. Thousands of them. You can't really tell what their purpose is though. Tell us, where have you encountered runes such as these before?

Istvan
Add XP for the failed roll if you haven't already. The mummy is watching you with unsettling intensity.

OOC: Atalanta rolled 9 using 2d6+2. Discern Realities. What here is useful or valuable to me?

Gania's eyes left the glave for a few seconds, just to check the other two windows, before returning to the snake-shaped weapon. It seemed to call to her and she moved closer, unaware of the mummy's gaze.

21:31, Today: Gania Flamekeeper rolled 6 using 2d6+1.  Discern Realities - left items.
Dice roller keeps going, but not giving.
Just in case - What here is not what it appears to be?

Istvan backs away from the mummy, over to where he won't accidentally break anything nor knock it over...

If the mummy attacks, though, Istvan will be tempted to attack the jars... but he's going to back off, first. Maybe the mummy can be reasoned with...?

Twessa sighed and gave up on the lid. It wasn't really her problem to solve, but would keep nagging at her as long as she was there.

She wandered to the left hand side of the room to see what Gania was up to and...spotted something. "Uh...Gania, my reflection in this shield is all weird...come have a look."

---

Aiding Gania:
00:49, Today: Twessa Dumdellin rolled 12 using 2d6+1 ((5,6)).

BEST AT AIDING

Atalanta looked at the three artifacts on her side of the treasure chamber, trying to figure out what the objects on display could do. However, her eyes always seemed to be drawn back toward the armor made of golden scarabs. Now that she was paying attention, she could definitely hear something coming from the armor. It was like when she talked with animals, except right now they were speaking in a language she could not understand. It seemed the scarabs on the armor truly were alive. Perhaps if she studied their essence she would be able to understand them better and ask why the picture behind them showed the armor's wearer turning into a swarm of golden scarabs and back again.

On the other side of the room, Gania took a good long look at the serpent glaive and did her best to decipher the picture behind it. It seemed to show the reach weapon transforming into a snake and binding up an opponent. As the barbarian craned her neck to see all the details, her hand pressed against the glass. Unbeknownst to her, some of the markings etched around the window's edge began to glow. Just as Gania moved aside to see what Twessa was talking about, a burst of magical energy pulsed out from the window in an arcane cloud, narrowly missing its target.

From his position away from the group, Istvan saw the whole scene. At the loud burst of magical energy, Harlin's cat crouched defensively next to the sarcophagus at the center of the room. The mummy, still not budging its eyes from Istvan, lifted its arm. The mummy reached over the side of the sarcophagus and slowly lowered its hand toward Harlin's unsuspecting cat. It reached out a clawed finger and... gently scratched Quickclaw behind the ears.

Gania, once the surprise of narrowly escaping a magical trap wore off, examined what Twessa had called her over to look at. The shield and its strange reflection. The shield itself looked unblemished, yet their reflections were marred with scratches. As the two women looked closer at the strange dark blue-gray metal, they came to realize that the scratches were not on the shield itself, but residue left from the weapons it had deflected in the past. From all the blades that were too dull or weak to make a dent. And judging by the picture behind it, the shield was incredibly resilient. The image showed the shield being dunked in a volcano, being blasted by lightning bolts from the sky, and even being struck by a cyclopes's hammer. Each time the shield was unmarred, but not always the case with the person who held it. Whatever invulnerability the shield possessed was not automatically transferred to its wielder.

What do you do?

---

Everyone
With two partial successes for deciphering the objects, I decided to describe half of them in more detail. The other half will need further rolls.

Atalanta
What here is useful or valuable to me?
The scarab-mail. It seems the scarabs are alive and can potentially be talked to, if their essence is studied first. It looks like the wearer of the armor gains the ability to turn into a swarm of golden scarabs.

Take +1 forward when acting on the answer.

Atalanta, what is the process you use to study a creature's essence? What does it look like?

Gania
What here is not what it appears to be?
Neither the glaive nor the shield is what it appears to be. The glaive seems to be able to constrict around people, and the shield seems nigh indestructible.

Take +1 forward when acting on the answers.

Twessa
Nice assist! You saved Gania from being blasted by who-knows-what defensive magic.

Istvan
The mummy is not attacking. At least not yet. And it does not seem to be entirely mindless either.

Harlin
Same as in my previous post. Plus, there is a mummy petting your cat...

Istvan was encouraged by the mummy's behavior with the cat-- and the cat's behavior toward the mummy. "Hello?" Istvan tried. "In the sarcophagus? Can you understand me? We don't wish to be hostile..."

Having accidentally saved Gania from a nasty seeming blast of magic, Twessa's attention remained with the trapped treasures, regardless of what might've been happening behind her back with the mummy. This was a puzzle! Why would she pass that up?

Recalling as well as she could what had triggered the previous pulse of energy, Twessa prodded at the obstruction in front of the sceptre, and peered in close to try and work out what it did, ready to duck on the off chance she touched the wrong bit.

---

01:55, Today: Twessa Dumdellin rolled 12 using 2d6+2.  Discern Realities (ID the golden scepter).
On 10+
- What here is not what it appears to be?
- What here is useful or valuable to me?
- Who's really in control here?

I wasn't sure how to phrase questions for Discern for this sort of thing? Should it have been a Spout Lore?

It's mostly about smells, really. One thing that always set Atalanta apart from others was her extraordinary sense of smell, which had only improved since she was blessed by the land. Even through the glasses, she could still make out the scent of the scarabs: the pungent stink of their food stuff hit her first, but once she powered through that with a couple twitches of her nose, she could just smell the essence of what made them what they are, just like she could assign a flavor to everyone she had ever met.

Gania pivoted at the magical explosion, reaching for her blade. She stopped with the hand on the hilt and turned back towards Twessa, glancing back towards the glaive every few steps as she approached the priestess and the shield she mentioned. "You seem to use it well." she said while pointing at the artifact and laughed.

When the gnome continued the exploration of the treasures, Gania remained in front of the shield, her brow furrowed. "Istvan!" she called out to her tribesman "What did the old man in Tarisan say about proving one's worthy of magical treasures? It was two drinks too late for me to recall."

18:36, Today: Gania Flamekeeper rolled 5 using 2d6-1.  Sprout lore - proving worthy of the items.
Aaaaalmost....

"I think I was seeing a man about a horse right then, sorry..." says Istvan. "Little busy trying to communicate over here..."

(Sorry, I feel like I'm on thin ice with my last snake eyes and I don't wanna roll again just yet...)

Harlin had seen such runes before. But where? He wracked his brains. Oh, yes--Atalanta had inscribed similar runes in the dust when teaching showing him the rite of growth. The ranger had been about to say as much to Atalanta when he noticed the mummy...petting Quickclaw. And Quickclaw sitting still for it. Quickclaw didn't even like to sit still that long for Harlin to scritch him.

He cautiously approached the side of the sarcophagus where Quickclaw was purring. He knelt again to look at the runes, this time with the idea of learning what would have awakened the mummy, and what would put it back to sleep. And what might antagonize it. After study, Harlin reached out and traced a vaguely triangular symbol with his finger.

Discern Realities: 13

What is about to happen?
What should I be on the lookout for?
What here is not what it appears to be?

19:23, Today: Harlin Greenarrow rolled 13 using 2d6+3.  Discern Realities w/companion.

Twessa could see the symbols on the window light up if she touched the glass even slightly. It was not always the same symbols, but they lit up without fail. Luckily they would dim again if she pulled away. It seemed to be a "look but don't touch" sort of situation. The gnome got the sense that the entire room was similarly protected in some way or another.

The object behind the window was an interesting one. The scepter didn't look like much. Just a simple crook, albeit made of valuable materials. However, the image behind it showed it being used by an agile warrior in the midst of battle. It showed them striking opponents with deft precision, and gaining the enemy's items with every blow that was landed.

"Hello? In the sarcophagus? Can you understand me? We don't wish to be hostile..." Istvan said to the huge mummy. The creature paused its petting of Quickclaw and slowly sat upright. Istvan could not see its eyes any longer, but it still felt like it was watching him.

"Coru nata liaka panyasha!" The creature's voice was booming, but in a language unknown by any of the adventurers. After speaking its words, the mummy sat perfectly motionless inside its sarcophagus. It stared at the blank wall opposite of the doorway the group had entered from.

Harlin happened to be looking at the runes as the mummy sat up. He noticed that several had flared to life as it did so. Just as several runes flared up every time Twessa tested the runes at her window. It seemed they were all interconnected in some intricate fashion and could trigger each other to create effects. It was like triggering incredibly complex traps. And there were probably plenty of actual traps to watch out for. The mummy was probably one of them, in a sense. And a system such as this probably had ways to ensure it remained stable over the years, so any tampering would surely pose risks.

"Istvan!" Gania said. "What did the old man in Tarisan say about proving one's worthy of magical treasures? It was two drinks too late for me to recall."

Even as Istvan gave his reply, Harlin saw more runes activate when Gania asked her question. The mummy raised one arm and pointed at the blank wall it had been staring at. On the bare stone, six doors had appeared, each bearing an image. "Caluda marihan krashavna dilumo. Setutra mashi naruha!" It was then that the old mummy pulled itself up out of its sarcophagus, towering over the members of the party. It hunched over near Gania and attempted to push her toward the doors. Not maliciously, but not gently either. It seemed to want her to choose one.

Each of the six doors had an animal-headed person on it performing a task. Fist was a person with a canine head gutting a man with a sword. Second was a hawk-headed person throwing knives while doing aerial acrobatics. Third was a crocodile-headed person blocking arrows with a large shield. Fourth was a person with a long-necked bird head measuring liquids over an open book. Fifth was a ram-headed person deep in meditation. And lastly, the sixth door showed a cat-headed person dancing gracefully before a crowd.

As the mummy was standing up, Atalanta found she could finally start making out the words of the scarabs in the scarab armor, although the words were only audible to her. [... looks ... there might ... a trial today!] [Think ... will be won?] [We'll see.] [It has been too long!] [Yes! we need to stretch our wings again.] [Indeed.] [I want to crawl over flesh.] [I want to crawl over sand!] [I want to roll dung!] [I want to crawl over...] The scarabs' conversations continued on along similar lines of topic for quite some time.

What do you do?

---

Twessa
What here is not what it appears to be?
Unsurprisingly, the scepter, or crook. It looks as if it gives you an item from someone you strike with it. It is a crook's crook.

What here is useful or valuable to me?
The scepter looks both useful and valuable. Especially if you like taking things from others.

Who's really in control here?
The room itself seems to be exerting the most control of the situation at the moment. Although that big mummy certainly does a great job of being intimidating.

Harlin
What is about to happen?
The mummy wants Gania to choose one of the doors. It seems to be in reaction to the question Gania had asked Istvan about proving one's worthy of magical treasures.

What should I be on the lookout for?
Traps. Lots and lots of traps and other protections, including the huge mummy. All designed to protect the treasure chamber from wrongful tampering.

What here is not what it appears to be?
The mummy appears mildly intelligent, but is probably just being controlled by the complex runes to perform certain tasks.

Gania
The big scary mummy has risen and is trying to usher you (none too gently) to the doors that just appeared in the wall so that you can pick one. Add your XP if you haven't yet.

Istvan
The mummy speaks, but not in a known language. You can still feel it watching you, even when it isn't looking at you.

Atalanta
You may add Golden Scarab to the list of animals you can turn into. You can now understand their words too.

Twessa's nose wrinkled as the nature of the scepter became clear. A thieving stick thing wasn't really something she was interested in. Oh well. She turned to see what all the commotion was behind her. No one seemed to be bleeding, so that was good.

"Ooh!", Twessa exclaimed as the doors were revealed, drawn closer by the puzzle.

A snappy lizard was the closest thing to a dragon, and Twessa wanted a shield, so without hesitation she ran over to the door and tried to open it.

Gania readier herself when the mummy approached, tensing as the hand reached out. At first, she resisted the push but then Twessa rushed towards the doors and Gania followed. While the gnome had a clear goal, the barbarian stopped for a moment and looked at the images. Her gaze moving from the rightmost to the left and back. Then left to the meditating ram where it stayed for a moment.

Gania looked back towards the displayed treasures, more specifically to the glaive, and she gave a frustrated sigh. "What do they want from us. Is the door connected to a weapon?" she at other displayed items and then the images above the doors "Doesn't seem like it." she let Twessa rush in adding a half-hearted "Be careful."

Harlin watched to see what happened with Twessa, while (unconsciousy?) edging nearer the sixth door.

Twessa pshawed Gania's cautious word with a wave of her hand. "Don't worry, Sagrae is protecting me!"

"I volunteer to enter the fourth door," said Istvan, deciding to be brave and meet this challenge head-on. He headed for the door with the long-necked bird...

"Well, that is helpful." Atalanta twitched her nose again after she finished studying the essence of the scarabs. While the scarabs didn't give her any useful information - just as expected from a swarm of insects, honestly - she did learn to turn into a kind of animal that's very different from the ones she's familiar with, so that's certainly helpful. "Another riddle?" she groaned when she saw the doors, having already depleted her intellectual capacity dealing with the sphinx. "Someone just tells me where to go."

When Twessa approached her door, it opened into a small circular room. There was another doorway on the other side of it, this time covered by a draped cloth. What was beyond it was not observable from the treasure chamber. When Istvan approached the fourth door, an identical room opened before him.

When Twessa stepped into the small room, she soon found her feet stuck to the ground and she could not move beyond the middle of the room. In the treasure chamber, the glass in front of the mysterious shield went black and opaque. When Istvan stepped into his chamber, he too found his feet stuck to the ground. The glass in front of the bottle of liquid turned black and opaque. Both Twessa and Istvan's doors slowly began to close.

The tall mummy's voice boomed, as if it was making an announcement in response to the doors beginning to close. "Deragla mari torunash. Forotu mesathi silanto crosharu pa." His words were as undecipherable as ever.

What do you do?

---

Everyone
Twessa and Istvan's feet are stuck to the floor inside the chambers they have chosen and their doors are slowly closing. Each time someone entered a door, one of the treasures disappeared from view, indicating a connection.

"Uh.."

Twessa sounded concerned and tried in vain to shift her feet, but...nope. Stuck. It didn't feel like a trap though, because traps were usually cleverer, weren't they? Unless you considered the whole Tapestry to be a trap, in which case it was already too late. She had a look around the tiny chamber and drew a conclusion.

"I can't see any bones or body parts in here, so if its a trap we might be the first ones in it?"

"There are two left, take either." Gania replied to Atalanta and pointed at the second and fifth door. "If we're doing this." she added as Twessa and Istvan entered and got stuck. Not to be outdone, Gania strode into the first door, right hand on the hilt of her greatsword. "May the winds be fortuitous." she wished to all of them.

"Where are the winds?" Atalanta blinked in confusion. "We are indoors." it took her a while to realize it's just an expression. "Oh right." she said as she walked up to the fifth door. "May the odds be ever in your favor." she said, "Or something like that."

Gania

After walking into the room behind the door with the canine-headed person gutting an enemy, Gania's feet became immovably planted on the floor just like the others. In the treasure chamber, the window viewing the serpent glaive went black and opaque. Gania's door slowly began to close behind her, leaving her staring at the curtain in front of her.

After a minute or so, the door finished closing, and its seams fused with the wall, making it look as if there were never a door there to begin with. There was only one direction left to go. Through the curtain. And Gania found her feet no longer frozen in place, so she could actually do so. But as her hand touched the curtain, a voice rang out. This time in her native tongue.

"You are about to attempt the Rite of Might. Prove you are worthy of the treasure you seek, and claim it for yourself. Fail to succeed, pervert the challenge, or die, and you will be expunged from the treasure chamber empty handed. You have one hour to reach the exit using your might as your main resource. Begin." A small hourglass appeared in the air just above and in front of Gania's head. The sand grains were already falling.

When Gania pulled back her curtain, she found herself stepping out onto a small balcony inside a rectangular room. Upon the balcony was what Gania first thought was a metal stick inside a stone block, but eventually realized was a massive square hammer. Twice the size of an average sledgehammer, to be precise. Over the side of the balcony, the entire room was filled with a deep pool of water, save for the braziers burning in the corners and another balcony across the room, about twenty feet away. Upon the far balcony was a large nail wedged into the ground, about just the right size for the hammer on Gania's side. Swimming over to the other balcony would be easy enough on its own, but getting the hammer over there would be much more problematic.

What do you do?

---

Twessa

After a minute or so, Twessa's door finished closing, and its seams fused with the wall, making it look as if there were never a door there to begin with. There was only one direction left to go. Through the curtain. And Twessa found her feet no longer frozen in place, so she could actually do so. But as her hand touched the curtain, a voice rang out. This time in her native tongue.

"You are about to attempt the Rite of Vitality. Prove you are worthy of the treasure you seek, and claim it for yourself. Fail to succeed, pervert the challenge, or die, and you will be expunged from the treasure chamber empty handed. You have one hour to reach the exit using your vitality as your main resource. Begin." A small hourglass appeared in the air just above and in front of Twessa's head. The sand grains were already falling.

When Twessa pulled back her curtain, it revealed a small square room decorated in elegant fabrics and colorful paintings. A crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling. On the far wall was a large vault door with a wheel that could be turned to open it. In the center of the room was a table just large enough for a single gnome-sized person to sit at.

Atop the table were four plates that each held ten bit-sized snacks. Three of the plates held snacks that looked absolutely delicious. The best Twessa had ever seen! The fourth plate was quite the opposite. It held fuzzy green crackers topped with something akin to curdled frog eggs and twitching cricket legs. It was absolutely revolting to look at and smelled atrocious.

What do you do?

---

Istvan

After a minute or so, the door finished closing, and its seams fused with the wall, making it look as if there were never a door there to begin with. There was only one direction left to go. Through the curtain. And Istvan found his feet no longer frozen in place, so he could actually do so. But as his hand touched the curtain, a voice rang out. This time in his native tongue.

"You are about to attempt the Rite of Thought. Prove you are worthy of the treasure you seek, and claim it for yourself. Fail to succeed, pervert the challenge, or die, and you will be expunged from the treasure chamber empty handed. You have one hour to reach the exit using your thoughts as your main resource. Begin." A small hourglass appeared in the air just above and in front of Istvan's head. The sand grains were already falling.

When Istvan pulled back the curtain, his eyes fell upon a large egg-shaped room. In its center was a work table with six books laying atop it and an assortment of supplies underneath. Along the left wall were small containers containing a number of snakes, bugs and other creepy-crawlies. Along the Right wall were shelves of bottles and boxes of assorted ingredients. At the far side of the room the entire area was an open area, raised up slightly higher than the rest of the room. And in the air above the empty area was a floating platform, a good twenty feet up. On the platform was a door identical to the one he had entered earlier, bearing the image of a person with a long-necked bird head measuring liquids over an open book.

What do you do?

---

Atalanta

After walking into the room behind the door with the ram-headed person meditating, Atalanta's feet became immovably planted on the floor just like the others. In the treasure chamber, the window viewing the scarab-mail went black and opaque. Atalanta's door slowly began to close behind her, leaving her staring at the curtain in front of her.

After a minute or so, the door finished closing, and its seams fused with the wall, making it look as if there were never a door there to begin with. There was only one direction left to go. Through the curtain. And Atalanta found her feet no longer frozen in place, so she could actually do so. But as her hand touched the curtain, a voice rang out. This time in her native tongue.

"You are about to attempt the Rite of Instinct. Prove you are worthy of the treasure you seek, and claim it for yourself. Fail to succeed, pervert the challenge, or die, and you will be expunged from the treasure chamber empty handed. You have one hour to reach the exit using your instincts as your main resource. Begin." A small hourglass appeared in the air just above and in front of Atalanta's head. The sand grains were already falling.

When Atalanta pulled back the curtain, she was met with an expansive and empty room. She was near the ceiling and the limestone wall dropped off sharply in front of her. Down below she could see that the floor was made of molten lava. Something felt off to her about the emptiness of the room, but she couldn't quite put her finger on what it was. Across the room, at least three hundred feet away, Atalanta could just make out a door identical to the one she had entered. It bore the image of a ram-headed person deep in meditation.

What do you do?

---

Harlin

After walking into the room behind the door with the cat-headed person performing, Harlin's feet became immovably planted on the floor just like the others. In the treasure chamber, the window viewing the headdress went black and opaque. Harlin's door slowly began to close behind him, leaving him staring at the curtain in front of him.

After a minute or so, the door finished closing, and its seams fused with the wall, making it look as if there were never a door there to begin with. There was only one direction left to go. Through the curtain. And Harlin found his feet no longer frozen in place, so he could actually do so. But as his hand touched the curtain, a voice rang out. This time in his native tongue.

"You are about to attempt the Rite of Personality. Prove you are worthy of the treasure you seek, and claim it for yourself. Fail to succeed, pervert the challenge, or die, and you will be expunged from the treasure chamber empty handed. You have one hour to reach the exit using your personality as your main resource. Begin." A small hourglass appeared in the air just above and in front of Harlin's head. The sand grains were already falling.

When Harlin pulled back the curtain, the smell of damp earth greeted his nose. In front of him was a square room containing a small stone bridge spanning a 30 foot chasm. It seemed to be of much sturdier construction than the bridges they had seen at the underground farm. There were torches aflame at each end of the bridge, a tall set of double doors at the other end, and at its center was a figure sitting in the path. A big fat troll.

The bridge was narrow enough that the troll took up its entire width. The burly brute seemed to be sobbing quietly to itself, but when it noticed Harlin it sniffed and wiped its nose on its sleeve. Even with a big string of snot hanging between its sleeve and nose, it said to Harlin in a thick accent, "Toll's a hunred coin. Ifya wanna pass." The troll's bottom lip quivered sadly as it held out a hand to accept Halin's non-existent money.

What do you do?

---

Gania
You have begun the Rite of Might. Let me know if you need any clarifications about what is going on.

Twessa
You have begun the Rite of Vitality. Let me know if you need any clarifications about what is going on.

Istvan
You have begun the Rite of Thought. Let me know if you need any clarifications about what is going on.

Atalanta
You have begun the Rite of Instinct. Let me know if you need any clarifications about what is going on.

Harlin
You have begun the Rite of Personality. Let me know if you need any clarifications about what is going on. I know you are AFK for a few days, but when you post let me know if you want Quickclaw with you, or if you want Quickclaw to have gone into door two. Your choice.
This message was last edited by the GM at 23:38, Tue 26 Mar 2019.

Istvan figures he's supposed to use the ingredients-- and probably the bugs and other things might count as ingredients-- to make a potion or something. Istvan goes over and examines the books, to see if they might give instructions or directions to follow...

OOOOH! Tasty Crunch Fillets! Jellied Eels! And that gooey pink paste dotted with shreds of red kelp, spread between two strips of lumpy brown pastry...was that Fermented Squid Slice? A banquet of delicacies from the Dellinzer Crevasse, how wonderful! And how unlikely, given the surrounds. But the fourth plate...it looked almost all right to Twessa's gnomish eyes, but the smell was a long way from one she found palatable. Someone had used spices...maybe some sort of hot tasting spice that could hurt her untrained tongue. Ergh!

She glanced up with disinterest at the chandelier, and instead went to investigate the apparent exit from this small room, picking up and eating one of the squid slices. As she gnawed away at the thick, bland treat with satisfaction, Twessa prodded and poked the door, looking for any hint as to what might open it.

---

05:01, Today: Twessa Dumdellin rolled 5 using 2d6+2.  Discern Realities (how open the door).

Oh well. No shortcuts! Trial and error it is.

This message was last edited by the player at 18:06, Wed 27 Mar 2019.

Something was amiss, and Atalanta wasn't gonna charge into a potentially lethal place while her Druid Sense was still tingling, so she took a moment to inspect the room.

Today: Atalanta rolled 7 using 2d6+2 ((3,2)). Barely a success; my question is "What here is not what it appears to be?"

Gania smiled at the explanation of the trial. Might was something she could handle. Dying didn't sound good, but getting exiled instead of killed was a welcomed piece of information. She gave the oversized hammer an experimental pull, getting a feel for its weight. She looked over to the other balcony and considered lobbing it across. Then she looked at the pool below, frowning. If the hammer sunk it's likely she would fail the task.

20:33, Today: Gania Flamekeeper rolled 3 using 2d6+1.  Discern Realities.
Welp...
For reference: What should I be on the lookout for?
How heavy is the sledgehammer and how deep is the water (if it's observable from above)? How high above the water are the balconies?

Gania
When Gania looked into the water between the balconies, she was dismayed by what she saw. The water was only about three times as deep as she was tall, but the walls and floor within the pool had some sort of trap at regular intervals. Every few feet there was a tentacle protruding into the water, like an octopus grasping for anything within reach. The water near the surface seemed far enough out of reach of any of them, but if the hammer fell below... Well, it would certainly be difficult to bring it back up again.

What do you do?

---

Twessa

When Twessa investigated the door and its huge wheel-like handle, she quickly noticed that it was labeled "open" and "closed", with one of the hand grips pointing to a space in between. As she bit into her tasty treat, the wheel turned one notch closer to "closed." What was worse, when the gnome turned and looked back at the table of treats, there were now eleven items on the plate of the disgusting treats where there had only been ten before. It seemed the door was tied to which treats she ate.

What do you do?

---

Istvan

As Istvan approached the six books laying out on the work table, he could see they were bound to its surface by a chain attached to a ring through their spines. He could still read the books, but wouldn't be able to bring them with him when he left. The books all seemed to be alchemical in nature. They each contained a single recipe for a magical concoction. A cursory glance suggested he would only have time to make three or four of the six concoctions, if he hurried. The books were titled:

How to Enlarge Your Worm
Hardened Carapace: Armoring your Arthropods
The Alchemical Secret to Snake Charming
The Paused Polliwog: Freezing your Amphibians
A Ghost's Guide to Invisibility
Fusion Confusion: how to combine two animals without getting messy.

What do you do?

---

Atalanta

Atalanta was wise to be wary of the empty room. After a moment of reflection, she realized that she could not smell or feel the heat of the lava below. At least not very well. When she poked a toe out into the empty air, she felt a floor beneath her feet. The room was not empty. Its contents were merely invisible. The more she strained her senses, the more she could smell and hear that there were various rooms and passages before here. But they were not visible to her human senses.

What do you do?

---

Gania
What should I be on the lookout for?
There are tentacles protruding from the walls and floor of the pool. They are grasping for anything that goes more than a few feet below the water's surface. Add your +1XP if you haven't yet.

The sledgehammer is twice as heavy as a normal large sledge. Heavy, but not totally unmanageable.

Twessa
Looks like the door is tied to the treats you eat. The more of the tasty treats you eat, the further closed the door's wheel turns, and more disgusting treats appear for every tasty treat you eat. Add your +1XP if you haven't yet.

Istvan
The books each contain a different recipe, but you probably only have enough time to make three or four of them. If you want to get a better sense of what each recipe can do, Roll me a Discern Realities. However, you are free to try things based off of the titles alone.

Atalanta
What here is not what it appears to be?
The room is not empty. Not by a long shot. There are a lot of passages to navigate, but the walls and floors and potential dangers are all completely invisible to your human senses.

Take +1 Forward when acting on this answer.

It's not that Istvan was opposed to enlarging his worm, but he still didn't understand exactly what he was supposed to do to pass this trial and get out of here. He took a few moments to really try to study the situation...

(11:38, Today: Istvan Vanoson rolled 8 using 2d6+1 ((2,5)).

When you closely study a situation or person, roll+Wis.  ✴On a 7–9, ask 1.

Either way, take +1 forward when acting on the answers.

What should I be on the lookout for?)

Twessa hung her head in defeat, but rallied fairly quickly and sat down at the table. The lavish chandelier and artworks felt more taunting than they had before.

She tried to minimise how bad this food was going to taste writhing in her mouth, and feel as she digested it. The food might taste awful, and in a best case scenario she might wish for access to a privy. The worst case? People died from fuzzy, spoiled food.

With a cautious finger, Twessa prodded one of the insect leg toppings with a finger. It twitched again. Nope. Nope. She needed to try something. Eating something awful would be bad enough, but actually dying from eating bad food would be most ignoble. Sagrae wouldn't approve.

Twessa scooped up the pile of disgusting crackers in her hands, closed her eyes, and began silently praying to Sagrae, pleading for her help in surviving what she was about to eat. Such an exercise of power was but a trifling, and despite her earlier annoyance, Sagrae answered her cleric's prayer with a gift. A suffusion of blue and pink mist appeared and passed through the messily stacked crackers and soon dissipated.

Her eyes still closed, Twessa pushed her hands together to squish the crackers, frog gunk and twitching legs into a greater hole, opened her mouth and bite her first big mouthful.

---

04:19, Today: Twessa Dumdellin rolled 11 using 2d6+2.  Cast Spell (Sanctify yuk food).

Hooray, now the awful food is HOLY! And purified of mundane spoilage. Now its just magically disgusting.

04:36, Today: Twessa Dumdellin rolled 8 using 2d6+1.  Defy Danger (Con) - Eat Bad Food.

Oh well. Worse outcome, hard bargain, or ugly choice, please.
This message was last edited by the player at 17:45, Fri 29 Mar 2019.

Gania frowned when she noticed the tentacles lying in wait "Dunedigger." she cursed whoever put this room together. But it wouldn't matter if she managed to follow through. Heavy yes, but the FLamekeeper was never one to back away from a challenge, least of all one that sought to change her fate. The barbarian gripped the sledgehammer and pulled while rotating, the momentum aiding her muscles as she forced them to their limit. She let the hammer fly towards the other side, her golden eyes showing hints of orange.

22:09, Today: Gania Flamekeeper rolled 2,8 using 1d6,1d8.  Conquer danger (Str) - throw hammer.
Total of 12 with Str bonus. I must be dreaming

After spending a few minutes sniffing on the floor, Atalanta determined that passages do exist, but they're beyond the sense of any human being, even her. Time to put that gift from Mother Nature to good use: as part of a race that had domesticated and lived with many animals over the ages, she was familiar with the essence of any domesticated animals, even if they don't originally come from the plains; in this case, she decided to turn into a ginger cat with lion ears and tail: a cat possesses smells and hearing on part with that of a dog, has superiors night vision and reflexes, and is so light and small that she wouldn't be at risk to traps that were designed for humanoids.

[OOC: Shapeshift: Atalanta rolled 12 using 2d6+3, so hold 3.]

Gania

Gania could feel a fiery heat building up in her core as her muscles strained with the hammer. With a mighty throw, the hammer sailed through the air and landed on the other balcony. In fact, it landed square on the large nail it was meant for, pushing it into the floor. As the nail was pushed into the floor of the opposite balcony, a large crack raced down its center and onto the wall below. The balcony split into two and the wall below collapsed as the water surged through the opening.

As all the water surged through the new breach in the far wall, all of the tentacle traps retracted, creating nice handholds Gania could use to climb down. Soon there was only a shallow pool remaining, and a large pile of rubble where a wall and balcony once stood.

In the newly exposed room, Gania could see all the water had drained through the grated floor. The room was long and empty save for the occasional brazier spruting flames into the air. At the far end of the room was a door like the one Gania had entered from, with a canine-headed person gutting an enemy. But between her and the door was a challenger.

The challenger was humanoid, and roughly equal in size to Gania. However, the person hovered just above the ground, had skin like sandpaper, and possessed four arms that each wielded a scimitar. They had flowing robes that billowed as they floated in the air. "You managed that first challenge quite easily," the person said in a slithery voice. "Don't expect me, Mozerat Salazzan, to fall as easily as that wall." Mozerat gave a sly smirk and pointed all four of his weapons toward Gania as he prepared for a skirmish.

What do you do?

---

Twessa

After Twessa cast her spell, her food shimmered with the holy aura of Sagrae. The food may have become holy, but unfortunately it did nothing for the taste. Or worse, the texture. Every bite of the food was a struggle against Twessa's gag reflex, and the gnome could almost swear she could still feel the cricket legs kicking when they reached her stomach.

But eventually the little cleric succeeded at eating every last bite and the vault door opened.

The next room branched into three paths that led to the opposite side of a huge spherical room. A wide ledge curved around the room to the right, and its walls were like cinders. Every so often a spurt of flame would burst out from the ashy wall.

To the left, a wide ledge curved around as well, but this one was frosty. Chilly vapor poured out from the icy wall and flowed over the lip of the ledge like a thin fog.

Straight ahead, a stairway led down into the bowl of the spherical room. In the bowl was a swirling mist of iridescent gas. It was unknown what effect the gas might have if inhaled, but it didn't look particularly healthy. At the far end of the bowl, Twessa could see that another stairway led back up to a platform at the far end of the room. The same place the ledges to either side led to. And on the platform was a door identical to the one she had entered earlier. It possessed a picture of a crocodile-headed person using a shield.

As Twessa looked out upon the spherical room, her stomach was still busy doing back flips. The food, holy as it might have been, still did not sit well with her. It was taking quite a bit of effort to keep down her food. Perhaps more effort than she had bargained for.

What do you do?

---

Istvan

Much to Istvan's dismay, further investigation revealed that How to Enlarge Your Worm referred to enlarging literal worms. Or creatures that were at least part worm. Likewise Hardened Carapace referred specifically to boosting the natural armor of animals with exoskeletons. The Alchemical Secret to Snake Charming provided a recipe for a concoction that could mesmerize creatures that were part snake. And The Paused Polliwog could temporarily immobilize any creature that was part amphibian. Fusion Confusion provided a way to combine any two non-sentient creatures into a single form. A Ghost's Guide to Invisibility seemed to be a recipe to turn any creature see-through, regardless of type.

After looking over at the wall of caged critters, it seemed apparent to Istvan that he should be on the lookout for a way to use these recipes on the creatures, in the correct order, in such a way as to help him reach the exit door that was twenty feet up above his head.

What do you do?

---

Atalanta

Atalanta soon found herself in the form of a small feline. Immediately she took note of the scent of wooden floors and stone walls. Her eyes could see more clearly in the dim light, but still could not make out any walls or floors. Her nose and her whiskers seemed to be superior at detecting the locations of those.

As the druid began to move forward, she soon felt a rough square beneath her padded feet. It slowly dawned on her that it was a pressure plate. If she were human, she surely would have triggered a trap of some kind. Apparently these invisible passages contained traps. Which would only add to the difficulty of reaching the other side safely.

What do you do?

---

Gania
Your hammer throw was so good that when it landed, it even struck the nail on the other balcony. Which caused the far wall to break apart and reveal another room. In that other room, a challenger stands between you and the exit. They have four arms, sandy skin, and are hovering.

Twessa
You can either keep the food down and gain the sickened debility (-1 to Con rolls), or you can barf up your food and fail the Rite of Vitality.

If you continue with the Rite of Vitality, you have three different paths you can choose to take. A hot path to the right, an icy path to the left, or a mystery-mist path straight ahead.

Istvan
What should I be on the lookout for?
You should be on the lookout for a way to correctly use the critters and recipes to reach the door up above.

Take +1 forward when acting on the answers.

Atalanta
Your cat moves are:
-Pounce
-Move silently
-Land on feet

You are safer as a cat than you probably were as a human, but there are still dangers ahead. Let me know how you intend to proceed. I will likely need a roll to discern/defy any dangers ahead.

Istvan looked over the creatures... And formed a plan.

STEP 1 Fusion Confusion to combine a worm and a snake.

STEP 2 The Alchemical Secret to Snake Charming to charm the wormsnake.

STEP 3 How to Enlarge Your Worm to make a giant wormsnake.

Thus, he would make a wormsnake, make the wormsnake obey him, then make it really big, so it could lift him up to the door.

(Question 1: I presume I only have to roll once to execute the plan? Because otherwise, I'm bound to fail on SOME step...

Question 2: ...The Charm won't wear off too soon, will it? I supposed I can just make potions 2 and 3, and then use 2 and then 3 right away...?)

Question 1: Give me one Defy Danger +Int roll to correctly mix all your recipies. The danger being an ineffective/defective product.

Question 2: It probably won't wear off too soon, but let's see what happens with your other roll before I tell you for sure what happens.

(20:42, Today: Istvan Vanoson rolled 6 using 2d6+3 ((2,1)).

That's Int bonus plus the +1 forward. Still fail.

Should I mark xp if I'm gonna die before I level up?)

Gania nodded and smiled, taking the creature's presence in stride "I hoped there would be more to the trial. Don't expect me, Gania Flamekeeper, to be held away from my goal by anyone." she drew her own sword, keeping her eyes on the four blades pointed in her direction. She knew he was fast and she shouldn't give him a chance to use his speed "And it has been a while since I faced a Dervish." she said and lunged forward, bringing her sword in an overhead slash, aiming to force him into a corner.

15:02, Today: Gania Flamekeeper rolled 5,8 using 1d6,1d8.  Conquest and slash.
Total of 13
16:02, Today: Gania Flamekeeper rolled 3 using 1d10+1.  Damage.
Still Foreceful and Messy

First, Quickclaw came with me.

Harlin considered the problem. He'd known the room would be a trap of some sort, but staying out while all his companions entered doors had seemed pointless. A 30-foot chasm. He might be able to dodge the troll and get across with some athletics and acrobatics, but it being named the "Rite of Personality" made that seem like a terrible idea. And the warning about perverting the challenge.

And he had three coins, not a hundred.

"I do want to pass. I do not have a hundred coins. Perhaps we can barter? May I perform a service? You seem to be in some need." He didn't want to say "distress." This was still a troll, no matter how sorrowful.

Parley fail. XP marked.

14:36, Today: Harlin Greenarrow rolled 5 using 2d6.  Parley.

Twessa straightened her back in hopes of it aiding her digestion, or more accurately to keep the disgusting food in her belly until the shield (maybe?) was in her hands. With deliberate steps she entered the next room.

The choice that now lay ahead of the sickly gnome wasn't even a choice. Fire? No thanks. Strange gas? Twessa wasn't even sure she felt good about stairs right now. But some of Twessa's first steps had been on snow and ice, and her first bruises had been too.

With the confidence of a Dellinzer native, Twessa veered left, ready to persevere through another wintery trek.

---

I'll take the -1 to Con thanks

02:30, Today: Twessa Dumdellin rolled 9 using 2d6.  Defy Danger (Con) - walk on ice regardless of chilly vapor.

I'm feeling confident....!

Gania

When Gania lunged forward and delivered her overhead slash to the dervish, Mozerat brought two of his scimitars up in an X formation to block the blade. He seemed intent on slashing at Gania with his other two, but the barbarian's strength proved to be more than he had bargained for. The dervish staggered back through the air.

There was a clatter sound and Mozerat looked at where one of his forearms was now laying on the floor, still holding a scimitar. The appendage melted into a pile of sand, leaving only a blade behind. The dervish looked to where his remaining stump was spurting thin streams of sand, then looked to Gania. "That's going to take a while to grow back," he said through gritted teeth. "Well played."

Then the dervish tilted his entire body in the air until its head was toward Gania. He then rotated like a wheel with his three remaining blades pointed toward Gania, like a big sandy blender approaching to pulpify its opponent.

What do you do?

---

Twessa

Twessa progressed along the icy path easily enough at first, but it was slower going than she had anticipated. The floor was smooth and uneven, making it difficult to keep her balance. And where it wasn't smooth, there were rocky obstacles hidden by the icy mist that she needed to climb over in order to advance further along the path. None of this would have been much of an inconvenience for the gnome, but the chilly mist was at a level of coldness that was pushing even her exceptional level of cold tolerance.

When she was halfway across, she knew she had a tough decision to make. Her teeth were chattering and her entire body was shaking. If she continued along her current course, the extreme cold would certainly cause harm to her body. Although her only other option would be to slide down the bowl-room's wall into the mysterious gas below. She would need to decide if she wanted to risk potential frostbite, or risk an unknown substance.

What do you do?

---

Istvan

Whether it was bad luck, his inexperience at alchemy, or inaccurate recipes, it was difficult to say. Regardless, the results of Istvan's attempt to solve his challenge were the same. A horrific, nightmarish, life-threatening disaster.

The trouble started right when he first attempted to use his newly crafted products. To fuse two creatures, he had to place them in a puddle of fusion potion. But when he placed the worm and snake into the puddle, the snake immediately lunged at the worm, biting it multiple times until it was in several wriggling pieces. Each piece of the worm fused to the snake's face, making it look like a horror straight from the nightmare plane.

But as far as Istvan could tell, he had still ended up with a creature that was part worm and part snake. So on to phase two.

The snake charming recipe had produced a pinch of a blue dust-like substance he was supposed to blow in the snake's face. With all the worm parts wriggling on the snake's face though, it was hard to know how effective it would be. But after he made his attempt, the snake's horror-face followed Istvan around like it was looking at a loved one. Presumably. It was difficult to tell.

And finally, the enlargement potion.

When Istvan poured the enlargement potion atop the snake-worm, it immediately began to grow. Especially the worm portions attached to the head. The worm portions grew long and thick, each becoming like the trunk of a 200 year old oak tree. They were all attached at a singular hub, where a serpentine tail stretched out behind them. There were nine worm heads in all, and they were each segmented and scaly, had two snake eyes, and their mouths were full of tiny snake-like teeth. It rose up its nine heads, each on a thirty foot neck, attached to a thirty foot tail.

And each head looked down at Istvan with that creepily loving look that his snake-charming dust had produced. One of the heads reached down before Istvan could properly react and scooped him up gently in its maw. It had lifted him ten feet off the ground when the worm-snake's entire body shivered.

And that is when Istvan realized the snake-trance had worn off.

And that is when Istvan also realized his current position was a perfect reenactment of the carving Atalanta had spotted at the treasure chamber entrance...

What do you do?

---

Harlin

"No have hunred coin?" The troll asked, confused. It seemed to take a while for it to understand that Harlin was offering to give him something instead of the coins. It stared blankly at him for a few moments and wiped more snot from its nose before realization seemed to finally kick in.

"Oh. You have way to make Stoog happy? I let you pass if you make Stoog happy." The troll's eyes fell on Quickclaw. "Oh! Cat make Stoog happy! You give cat!" Stoog stood up and headed straight for Quickclaw. His arms were outstretched and he licked his lips hungrily.

What do you do?

---

Gania
You lopped off one of the dervish's arms, but he seems more annoyed than seriously injured. He is approaching you like a bladed electric egg beater, floating through the air.

Twessa
Do you want to continue along the icy path and take damage, or risk traveling the rest of the way in the gasses below? Either way, give me another Defy Danger +Con. (Or if you come up with a third option, feel free to do that instead.)

Istvan
You are halfway in the mouth of a giant worm-snake-hydra thing, and its love-trance just wore off. You are ten feet off the ground and the exit is still at least another ten feet away. What do you do?

And yes, mark XP even if death seems imminent. ;-)

Harlin
Stoog the troll has decided he wants your cat as payment. He is heading toward Quickclaw with hunger in his eyes.

Before I answer... IF i could make this thing let me go... and if I could get back to the worktable... is there any of the snake-charming stuff left...?

"No!

"No, I cannot give you the cat. He is his own, he decides for himself. But if you are hungry, I have food. If you are sad, maybe I can help some other way."

Twessa grunted as she stumbled onto the ice, made breathless by the impact.

Its too cold! Too slippery! Too dangerous!

 Still queasy from the kicking food in her gut, still unsettled by Sagrae's reprimand, and missing the warmth of leather armor and the security of her fishing spear to test the ice ahead, Twessa was ready to give up.

It wasn't the first time she'd felt that way.

Much younger than the well-travelled cleric floundering on the ice today, litle Twessa (Twugsy to her family) had loved eating fish, and she loved the celebration that followed when the fishers came back from their holes with sacks of food for the clan. Fishers were important, and Grandfather was the most important of them, and that made little Twugsy proud...and ambitious.

It was cold outside the crevasse, but when Grandfather had finally given in to his little Twugsy and taken her out to catch fish, Twessa had had her first taste of what cold really was.

The mouth of the crevasse, it turned out, was sheltered from the most punishing of weather. The relentless chill winds that rushed across the surface of the frozen sea felt like they just might blow little Twugsy away into the heavens, until Grandfather had shown her how to walk right, and provided a windbreak for her to follow in. And when they'd reached the spot Grandfather liked, oh the waiting had been worse. Waiting for Grandfather to cut a hole, waiting for him to settle in and drop a line, and waiting for him to wait for something to bite, all while surrounded by swirling winds that rendered anything more than twenty foot away near invisible. But Twessa had learned what a gnome must do, and what a gnome must bear, and yes, she'd returned with a big fish to the acclaim of her parents and little brother. Despite all the discomfort and stress, it had been a great day.

It had been many years since that day. And a few years since Grandfather had died - not on the ice, but in a warm bed with a belly full of good food. He'd led a worthy life of service to his family, his clan, and to Sagrae, and yes, that had made Twessa proud...and ambitious. Ambitious enough to leave the crevasse, to cross the frozen sea, and see more of the world than her Grandfather had dreamed of.

In this abnormal room, seeking treasure rather than justice or anything worthy, Twessa knew she could die. She could surrender to the cold that tried to claim her and see her life end. Not to serve her family, nor her clan, and perhaps not even Sagrae. What did Sagrae need with a shield? To die here, in selfish pursuit of wealth, would be an insult to Sagrae, who'd fostered the fire that burned within all righteous gnomes. If Twessa held anything within her, even a spark, she had to carry on. That was doctrine. That was important.

But there was one thought beyond a fear of Sagrae's disdain that chilled Twessa more than any inclement mist.

What would Grandfather think if he could see his little Twugsy now?

Twessa stumbled on.

---

07:06, Today: Twessa Dumdellin rolled 6 using 2d6.  Defy Danger (Con) - keep on ice walkin.

Fail. XP marked. Do your worst!


This message was last edited by the player at 21:14, Fri 05 Apr 2019.

Istvan started to attack, then realized it could make things worse, then decided he'd already started his magical freezing attack, and it was too late now, so he decided to just commit to it. Maybe he could make the thing think he was too cold to eat... maybe he could even make its mouth feel numb and it'd be unable to keep him inside...

(15:34, Yesterday: Istvan Vanoson rolled 8 using 2d6+2 with rolls of 3,3.)

Gania smirked at her success and Mozerat's overconfidence, and it only grew at his reaction. As she readied for another strike, the dervish went on the offensive and she had to shift her stance in the last second. Instead of facing him head-on, she sidestepped slightly too late and swung her blade to angle him away from her.

16:55, Today: Gania Flamekeeper rolled 7 using 2d6+2.  Defy or Slash.
Not sure whether I can attack considering the danger or just defy it. Or defy and then attack with a separate roll?

Gania

Mozerat whirled past Gania as she deflected his blades. "Sidewind!" the dervish shouted as it was rerouted by Gania. The tips of the scimitar blades still raked across her skin, but it was difficult to tell how deeply they had cut. But one thing was clear. The barbarian could see an opening if she didn't mind suffering a few extra scratches...

What do you do?

---

Twessa

The cold only seemed to get worse as Twessa progressed. The cleric was certain that if it wasn't for her grandfather showing her how to move about in such extreme temperatures, she would have been frozen solid by the time she had made it all the way to the other side. However, even though she had managed to emerge from the cold with her life, she did not make it all in one piece.

The extreme cold had taken a toll on her tiny limbs. She could barely feel her hands and feet anymore, and some of her digits had even gained the blackened visage of frostbite and snapped off completely.

The exit door stood in front of her now, with no other obstacles barring her path. She had survived and completed the challenge, but at what cost?

What do you do?

---

Istvan

When Istvan struck the worm-head that had him it is mouth, the icy magic of his blade caused the entire thirty foot neck to spasm. Its tiny teeth contracted around Istvan's legs, piercing his skin in numerous places. Then, despite attacking it near the head end, the entire neck detached from the monster's body and fell to the floor.

And Istvan fell with it.

They hit the ground hard, but the wormflesh broke much of the fall and Istvan was knocked freww of the monster's maw. The detached neck that had fallen to the floor was still squirming as if alive, but was in pretty rough shape. Still, it halfheartedly twitched in Istvan's general direction, teeth gnashing.

The remaining eight heads were fully focused on Istvan now. Four reared up intimidatingly, two let out a terrible hissing moan, and two lunged directly at the arcane duelist.

What do you do?

---

Harlin

If Stoog heard Harlin's words, they had no effect on the troll. He scooped his arms forward to grab the cat, only to have the nimble Quickclaw jump out of the way. He grabbed again, just narrowly missing the cat the second time. "Come here kitty! Make Stoog happy. Be Stoog snack!"

Quickclaw was quick and nimble, but could only dodge the troll's grip for so long. The cat would be caught eventually if nothing was done. On the other hand, the troll was not currently blocking the path across the bridge...

What do you do?

---

Gania
I'll give you the choice. You can either avoid any serious damage but give up a chance to deal damage yourself, or you can take advantage of an opening and deal your damage while taking d10 damage yourself (Roll twice and take the higher number.) Armor counts.

Twessa
You made it, but not without contracting a touch of frostbite. Roll 1d20. That is how many fingers and toes you lose due to irreparable damage from the cold. You can choose which ones are affected.

Istvan
There was no damage roll included with your Arcane Bladework roll, so I took the liberty of rolling it for you. Both to save time, and to inform my own post.

12:55, Today: Dungeon Master, on behalf of Istvan Vanoson, rolled 5 using 1d8.  Damage from his arcane bladework.

You caused the head that was grasping you to detach from the rest of the body. Its skin tore and froze more easily than expected, almost like wet tissue paper. It is still wiggling, but is in pretty bad shape. The eight remaining heads of the "hydra" seem focused on you. You are currently on the floor next to the worktable, being attacked by two of the heads.

Also, take 1d6+1 damage from the head that you attacked.

Harlin
The troll will catch Quickclaw soon if nothing is done to stop it. Probably a Defy Danger of some sort. +Cha if you want to continue with your current method of persuasion. The troll has moved off of the bridge right now though in an effort to catch your cat.

Atalanta
Are you still with us? Is there anything I need to clarify for you?

Harlin calculated the distances between himself, the troll, and the bridge. Counting on having quicker reflexes than the troll, he dove to scoop up Quickclaw before dashing across the bridge, but . . .

Defy Danger - Dex to grab Quickclaw before the troll can. 7.

14:44, Today: Harlin Greenarrow rolled 7 using 2d6+2.  Defy Danger - Dex - grab Quickclaw.
This message was last edited by the player at 19:19, Thu 18 Apr 2019.

The hubris of Twessa's actions, already regretted, had been set by the cold in dark, dead flesh. No prize beyond the door could compensate her for what she'd lost in defeating this challenge; not just a physical piece of her, but the everlasting reminder of her foolish greed.

Arrogant carelessness had cost Twessa her spear, her armor, the respect of her goddess, and now several fingers and toes. Her behaviour had been shameful, and whatever awaited her on the other side of that door, whatever its worth, would be nothing but a memorial to her shame.

The price had been too high, but now had been paid. Twessa pressed her shoulder to the door and pushed on towards her tainted prize.

---

04:32, Today: Twessa Dumdellin rolled 8 using 1d20.  frostbite digits.

Oof, Twessa just keeps losing things. Could be worse :/

So, hmm the losses.....Left ring finger, right little finger, all toes but big toe on left foot, smallest two toes on right foot


This message was last edited by the player at 19:42, Thu 18 Apr 2019.

Gania threw herself into the diverted attack, faring somewhat better than if she stood and took it face-on. But it wasn't for naught. She pulled her blade after her and used her whole weight and strength to slash deep into the sandy arms. "You are bested!" she proclaimed "Yield and serve me and you shall see both my future glory and have a chance to earn yours."

21:59, Today: Gania Flamekeeper rolled 8 using 2d10, dropping the lowest dice only with rolls of 8,2.  Damage from dervish.
21:59, Today: Gania Flamekeeper rolled 11 using 1d10+1.  Damage to dervish.

22:00, Today: Gania Flamekeeper rolled 2,4 using 1d6,1d8.  Conquest parley.
Damn... Do I get +1 forward for the max damage roll? :D
Idea is to get a hireling out of this. Might consider sacrificing the magic item in return.

This message was deleted by the player at 17:57, Fri 19 Apr 2019.

"--HEY!" shouted Istvan, and he stomped on the floor, since snakes and worms are more about felt vibration than sound as such.


(CHR: 12:30, Today: Istvan Vanoson rolled 11 using 2d6+1.)

Istvan's sudden shout and stomp worked great-- the heads before him were momentarily startled...

He dashed to the bowl he'd used to make the snake-charming stuff, trying to re-dose his creation...

(DEX: 12:30, Today: Istvan Vanoson rolled 8 using 2d6 with rolls of 4,4.)

He was partially successful...

Gania

Gania's strike caused the dervish to go rolling sideways through the air until it struck a wall, where it slowly lowered to the floor. When Gania made her proposition, Mozerat did not answer immediately. Instead he began laughing painfully where he lay on the ground.

Between pained laughs, the dervish said, "It is true you have bested me. I yield. And I would not be opposed to lending my aid to a true champion who has defeated me in fair combat. But I fear you do not realize just how deeply your last blow struck..." Even as he said the words, both of Mozerat's legs were slowly dissolving into sand. In a few moments, the dervish was nothing but a head and torso with three arms. It seemed he had lost his ability to hover as well.

"I am willing to join you, but I am afraid you will have to carry me until I recover from my wounds. Which... could take a while."

What do you do?

---

Twessa

When the frostbitten Twessa pushed on the door, it opened with ease. The warmth of the dry treasure room air washed over her as she emerged into the square shield's display area itself. She had discovered why each treasure display had a door behind it. It was the exit to one of the challenges. Sure, the direction she had traveled for her challenge meant the architecture did not line up, but that was nothing new.

The window inside the shield's display area was still opaque, so she couldn't see if anyone else had retrieved a treasure yet, but the shield she had sacrificed her fingers and toes to obtain was now within her reach.

What do you do?

---

Istvan

Itvan effortlessly startled the worm-snake hydra and grabbed the bowl he needed. Now for the tricky part. Getting close enough to use the residual dust in the bowl. He was in a position where he could move to a safe distance if he would like, where he could try and formulate a plan for approach. Or, he could seize the initiative and move in immediately, but some of the heads would surely snap at him.

Either way, he did not have a lot of time remaining in his challenge. The hourglass hovering at the corner of his vision looked like it only had a few minutes remaining at most.

What do you do?

---

Harlin

Harlin dove to scoop up Quickclaw before dashing across the bridge, but the moment he had the cat in his arms, the ranger felt a large hand grip the waistband of his pants. The troll lifted Harlin off of his feet with little effort and held the elf at eye level. From here he could see that the gap the bridge crossed had spikes at the bottom.

Stoog was frowning as he looked Harlin in the eye and said, "Why you steal Stoog's snack? You no want Stoog be happy?" The troll's eyes teared up quickly and his frown became even sadder. "It seem nobody want Stoog happy." It was apparent that the troll was seconds away from full-blown sobbing again.

What do you do?

---

Gania
You can take on Mozerat as a Hireling if you wish, but he has lost the ability to walk or hover and you will need to carry him. So long as you are carrying the dervish, you will be considered to be over-encumbered with a weight "greater than your load +2."

quote:

When you make a move while carrying weight you may be encumbered. If your weight carried is:
-Equal to or less than your load, you suffer no penalty
-Less than or equal to your load+2, you take -1 ongoing until you lighten your burden
-Greater than your load+2, you have a choice: drop at least 1 weight and roll at -1, or automatically fail

Twessa
You are now within the display case containing the shield. It is sitting before you, ripe for the taking. Is there anything you want to do before grabbing it?

Istvan
You can stay safe and not use your charming dust just yet (will need a new roll of some kind), or you can use it successfully now but take 1d6+4 damage as half of the heads snap at you. Armor counts.

Harlin
You grabbed your cat, but Stoog is holding you up by the waistband of your pants. He is about to cry because you kept him from being happy.

(I'll use the stuff successfully now, but take damage.

14:12, Today: Istvan Vanoson rolled 10 using 1d6+4 ((6)).

Istvan, minus armor, takes 9 damage, and has 2 HP left. Hope this gets me out of here fast...)

Istvan re-doses the wormsnake with the charming powder, but gets hurt in doing so... At least he's alive so far...

Why not? "I want Stoog to be happy," Harlin said. Letting Quickclaw jump to the floor, the ranger reached out to hug Stoog.

Gania's eyes narrowed in suspicion at dervish's unexpected reaction. Then they widened at the revelation. She glanced at her blade, which she sheathed, and back at the sandy remains of Mozerat's limbs. "Yet you live." the barbarian said in the end, her voice filled with respect. Anyone made of flesh and blood would not survive such a strike. "How much do you know of this place, Mozerat Salazzan?" she moved towards the fallen form "Will you be of help while you recover?"

Gania

"Will I be of help?" Mozerat asked, parroting Gania's last question in his typical slithery voice. He looked down at his injured body almost as if only just noticing the extent of his injuries just now. He shrugged and sheathed his three scimitars on his back. "I can still swing a sword, if that's what you mean. You may need to help move me next to my target though..." He slowly dragged himself toward where his fourth blade had dropped, then sheathed it on his back with the other scimitars.

"As for what I know about this place, well, it isn't much more than you. I was conjured from stasis when you broke the wall. To be your challenger and keep you from reaching the door. I don't know how long I was in stasis though, or even who put me in stasis in the first place. I am certainly eager to finally be free of this place though. You were the first challenger to best me, so there will no longer be a need for me in this challenge once you claim your prize."

What do you do?

---

Twessa

The moment Twessa touched the shield she had won, the entire room began to glow with a mysterious magical blue light. She could feel it saturate into her very bones. Permeating her essence.

"You have completed the Rite of Vitality. You have proven yourself worthy of this treasure. Use it wisely." Twessa could suddenly magically sense all of her treasure's capabilities. It was a square shield that was absolutely impervious to any sort of damage, magical or mundane.

Then, the blue light continued to brighten and filled the room to the point where Twessa could no longer see the walls. She felt herself being pulled upward through the air. Then finally, the light faded and she found herself standing on a warm sand dune with a human man practically on top of her. The man looked awfully familiar too...

What do you do?

---

Istvan

The arcane duelist used his magic dust on the many-headed beast even as several of its heads gnawed at his body. Their hundreds of tiny teeth scratched at the skin of his arms and legs. One mouth was even closing in over his head, but then the entire beast stopped. A forked tongue flicked out and tasted the air around Istvan, then all of the heads retracted. They were staring at him with the same loving stare they had that first time he used the powder. Back when it was much tinier.

The pseudo-hydra awaited Istvan's bidding.

What do you do?

---

Harlin

Stoog seemed startled by Harlin's unexpected hug, but soon found himself returning the embrace. "You- you Stoog's friend now?" the troll asked as it put Harlin in a bear hug that threatened to crack a few ribs. The troll began sobbing with happiness. "You stay here and help Stoog forget pretty princess that won't let him come inside?" The troll continued hugging Harlin well past the point of awkwardness, waiting for the ranger's assurance that he would stay here and be Stoog's friend forever.

What do you do?

---

Gania
You will still be able to benefit from Mozerat's aid in combat as long as he is nearby.

quote:

Name: Mozerat Salazzan
Description: A Dervish. He has sandy skin, a slithery voice, and caries four scimitars. He normally has four arms, two legs, and long flowing robs that billow as he hovers. But right now one arm and two legs are missing, and he has lost his ability to hover. He expects to regenerate eventually though.
Loyalty: 2
Cost: Thrill of Victory
Skills: Warrior 2

Twessa
My last post for you was basically me stalling for time to help threads line up a bit better, so I moved you forward some more. You have claimed your prize. An indestructible shield. It I would ever say something damages it, correct me. It CANNOT be damaged.

Please make your next post in the thread "Group Two: Weaving a Tale."

Istvan
You can have the hydra-creature do as you please.

Harlin
The troll wants you to stay and be his friend. To help him forget the pretty princess that made him stay outside. To do otherwise will probably require a roll.

"Quickly-- and gently!" Istvan orders. "Get me up to that door!" he says, pointing at himself, and then up to where he needs to be, just to help facilitate clear communication.

Gania gave Mozerat an appreciative glance and finally nodded, offer her hand "Then we shall learn more of it together." She knelt and offered her back for him to climb on. She forced the thoughts of how vulnerable she was out of her mind. The dervish was an honorable warrior and had offered his service. Once he was in position she ventured toward the gate he was guarding "Now for the prize and to see how my companions fared."

Harlin grunted out, "I will talk to the pretty princess! I can convince her to let you inside! Just take me to her."

Parley 9. That's an improvement!

11:43, Today: Harlin Greenarrow rolled 9 using 2d6.  Parley.
This message was last edited by the player at 15:53, Mon 29 Apr 2019.

Gania

After Mozerat climbed atop her back, Gania made her way to the exit. Beyond the door was the little treasure display area where the serpent glaive was kept. As she touched the weapon, a voice spoke out and the room began filling with blue light. She could feel herself and Mozerat being lifted upward. "You have completed the Rite of Might. You have proven yourself worthy of this treasure. Use it wisely."

Gania could instinctively understand her new weapon's capabilities. She knew that in addition to being a formidable weapon, it could also be used to bind people. What's more, she understood how to make it do so.

After a few moments, the blue light began to fade and Gania found herself standing atop a sand dune with Mozerat on her back and her new weapon in her hand. A few feet away she spotted Twessa having an interaction with two vaguely familiar men. In the opposite direction there were more lights similar to the one she had just emerged from.

What do you do?

---

Istvan

The serpents under Istvan's spell all pushed and shoved against each other to be the one that had the pleasure of doing as the arcane duelist requested. In the end though, they lifted him up gently like he desired and Istvan soon found himself standing next to the exit. And not a moment too soon. The hourglass hovering at the edge of his vision was moments away from emptying!

But as he pushed through the door and into the treasure display area beyond, he knew he had succeeded the moment his fingers brushed against the prize waiting for him to claim. The large glass beaker containing a syrupy looking brown liquid inside. "You have completed the Rite of Thought," a voice said "You have proven yourself worthy of this treasure. Use it wisely."

As the room began to fill with blue light and Istvan was lifted upward, he instinctively understood what was contained within his new beaker. It was Chronos Elixir. Three doses of it. It was an unbelievably rare liquid that could return something to a state it once was.

Before he really had a chance to think about all of the potential applications though, he found himself standing on a sand dune. Gania was a few paces away, and Twessa was with two vaguely familiar men a bit further off. In the opposite direction were two more blue lights, much like the one he had just exited.

What do you do?

---

Harlin

Stoog held Harlin at arm's length when the ranger made his offer. The troll's ugly face broke into a crooked smile and he brought Harlin in for one last squeeze, leaving a glob of snot on the man's shoulder. Then he let go and finally allowed Harlin to stand on his own two feet again.

"You good friend," Stoog said as he led Harlin toward the door. "We best buds. Best bud gets princess for other best bud! So nice." It was quite evident that Harlin had brightened the troll's day considerably. As Stoog reached out to the double doors and cracked them open an inch or so, he paused and looked down at Harlin again, concern on his face. "But what if best bud decide to stay with princess instead of Stoog? Gimme somethin to come back for. Then I know you not steal princess for self." He held out a hand and waited for Harlin to put something in it.

What do you do?

---

Gania
Please join us in the Group Two thread for your next post. Here are the stats for your new treasure:

quote:

Serpent Glaive
reach, +1 damage, two-handed, 2 weight
On a successful Hack and Slash, you may forego dealing damage and instead bind someone with snake-like coils as your weapon wraps around them. (or at least bind a man-sized portion of their body.) The weapon is unusable for attacks while it is binding someone.

Istvan
Please join us in the Group Two thread for your next post. Here are the stats for your new treasure:

quote:

Chronos Elixir
2 weight, 3/3 uses
You may spend a use of Chronos Elixir to return something to a state it was previously in. You could fix a broken object, mend an injured friend, or even unbake a loaf of bread. Feel free to think big and get creative (although there are limits). When you use it, what you intend for it to do matters.

Harlin
The troll opened the doors for you, but wants an item from you so that he knows you will come back to get it later. This is the "concrete assurance" that you will hold up your end of the parley. You can give him any item you want, or Defy Danger if you want to keep everything.

Harlin gave the troll a sheaf of arrows as surety.

The troll smiled wide when Harlin handed him the arrows. "You best," Stoog said happily, then opened the doors wide. "I wait here. You go in."

Behind the doors was a small waiting area with a lavish rug and carved benches to each side of the entrance. On the far side of the room was another set of polished doors set into the granite walls. This place was certainly upscale.

Once Stoog closed the entrance behind Harlin, the other doors were opened by a well-dressed man. He gave off the distinctly snooty vibe of a servant to a wealthy individual. "Welcome to her highness, Madam Cronchette's palace. I am Master Orwell. If you seek the madam's audience, you must dress appropriately. This..." He gestured disapprovingly at Harlin's attire. "...will not do. She does not speak to anyone unless their outfit interests her."

Without a word, Master Orwell turned on his heels and began walking down the hall. It was as incredibly lavish as the entryway, but also sported various sculpture pedestals and oil painting instead of the entryway's benches. At the very end of the hall Harlin could see that it opened up into a large throne room with a raised platform. But where he might expect a throne to be, he could just make out what appeared to be a door identical to the one he had entered at the very start of this challenge. And sitting atop the door was the ghostly figure of a woman. Her long translucent ballgown draped over the exit.

"You may make use of the changing facilities if you desire," Master Orwell said, drawing Harlin's attention back away from the throne room. He had paused in front of a room halfway down the hall. Within were rows upon rows of different outfits all hanging on racks. It was downright absurd how many outfits were packed into that single room. "Ring if you need any assistance," Orwell said, gesturing to a bell next to the door.

What do you do?

---

You can see the exit now, but it is serving as the ghostly princess's seat. The butler guy, Orwell, says the princess is only interested in speaking to people who have an outfit that interests her. Whatever that means. Orwell has shown you to a room containing pretty much any outfit you can imagine. He suggests you pick something you think the princess would like before going to meet her.

If you decide to make a costume change, go ahead and tell me what you find to wear. You can basically find anything someone may wear that is non-magical. Clown outfits, knight's armor, peasants rags, dwarven jewelry, cowboy hats, elvish spider-silk underwear, etc. Feel free to get as creative as you want.

Of course you can choose to try your luck and skip the room too. It's up to you!

Harlin waited long enough that he hoped Orwell had passed out of the hallway. He had no interest in changing clothes. This was a test of personality and his personality was reflected in his traveling clothes and armor. He left the changing room and proceeded toward the exit chamber.

Though he had to admit to himself he had been tempted by some of the sturdier armor.
This message was last edited by the player at 10:20, Sat 04 May 2019.

When Harlin stepped into the throne room, trumpets sounded to announce his presence. The room was grand, with paintings on the walls and a stained glass ceiling. Colorful light beamed down and illumunated the ghostly princess where she sat. The princess herself sat atop the exit door with her legs tucked sideways and her dress still covering the door. She didn't look at Harlin, but said, "If you have selected your attire, then approach and impress me. If you manage to show me a true understanding of dress, I will grant you a single favor. Disappoint me..." She let her voice trail off, but there was a definite threatening tone to her words.

Harlin approached the "throne." Holding his bow in one hand and his broken spear in the other, he held his arms outstretched and bowed.

Go ahead and give me a Defy Danger +Cha roll to see if the ghost-princess is adequately impressed with your actions. The danger being that she is somehow insulted instead.

7

13:08, Today: Harlin Greenarrow rolled 7 using 2d6.  Defy Danger-CHA.

When Harlin bowed before the princess, he could feel her eyes on him, judging him. After what felt like several minutes, Madam Cronchette finally spoke again. "Well, it's not the most exciting ensemble," the princess said with obvious snootiness in her voice. "But I suppose I must give you credit for honesty. Is that... swamp mud on your legs? And ooze residue on your forearms? Hmm."

At this point the ghost-princess hovered closer to Harlin and began examining his outfit much more carefully. "You attire speaks a story without using words," she commented. "Much more so than most of the ones that have been made specifically to impress me. Such sturdy construction too!" She reached her hand out to touch it, but it merely passed through the fabric, chilling it slightly. "I'll tell you what. Leave this armor you wear here, in my collection, and I will grant you your single favor." Madam Cronchette hovered before Harlin and awaited his answer.

What do you do?

---

Madam Cronchette has offered to grant you one favor if you leave her your armor for her collection.

"You are most gracious, Higness," Harlin improvised. His experience with ghostly royalty was limited. "I accept your offer: My armor for a favor. I ask that the troll Stoog be allowed to dwell in the palace area. He is sad and lonely guarding the bridge."

"The troll?" the princess asked with incredulity. She wrinkled her translucent nose. "Ugh. But he is so... crude. Unkempt. Unsightly." Despite her overt objections though, the princess sighed. "Very well. If that is truly your request..."

Madam Cronchette floated a few feet higher into the air and called out to her servant. "Master Orwell! Come take this man's armor. I will show you where I want it displayed. Then go open the main gate and escort Stoog into the palace. Just... try to keep him out of my sight, I suppose."

After Orwell collected Harlin's armor, the butler and princess headed off to a different part of the palace, leaving the exit unattended. Harlin new he could get to it easily enough right now if he didn't want to wait for Stoog to return his bundle of arrows. If he did decide to wait, it was likely that the princess would return to her seat before Harlin got the chance to leave.

What do you do?

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Mark your armor off of your sheet, Harlin, and adjust you load and armor score appropriately. If you don't wait for Stoog, mark off one of your arrow bundles as well (all 3 uses), and complete the Rite of Personality.

If you do wait for Stoog, tell me what your plan is to finish this challenge.