The wurm lurches forward and snatches the dead goblin in its maw, then immediately slithers back under the murk. Its disappearance is immediately followed by the sounds of metallic thumps under your feet.
This message was last edited by the GM at 12:47, Mon 22 July 2019.

Dwarghar throws a rock at the creature from the back of the group, followed by a yell of "And stay down!" before noticing the obvious metallic thumps and drawing his warhammer close to his chest.

Manaku waits for a long moment, training his bow on the spot where the beast could re-emerge.

Wait for 5 rounds, ready to shoot it; if it does not reappear by that span, look around and re-assess the situation.

After about five tension-filled minutes, the creature does not return, but the gush of black oily fluid on the floor has slowed to the faintest trickle.

"Well done, Sir Einhard!   You're a clever chap!"    She shook her head.

"Ugh.  While I was slinging mead for a living, I met these adventuring types, and they spoke of the creatures they battled -  mostly all the same:   orcs, kobolds, giant rats, maybe some skeletons.    But us, we get...whatever the hell that was." 

Regdoc coiled his sling and replaced it to his belt. He was unconvinced that the creature was really gone. As soon as it finished eating the goblin's corpse, it would surely be back...

He winced at a certain catch in his hip and then attempted to walk it off by checking to see if there might be some sort of closure to keep the liquid from flowing and prevent the return of the monster.

"Anybody see any other exits to this room?" he asked. "If not, we'd best re-trace our steps a bit before this thing gets hungry again..."

"But, my axe is still in there!" Einhard protested.

Amalrik places an ear to the ground/floor -- listening for anything ... Pre-earthquake rumblings ??

There's a metal door on the other end of the chamber, past the tanks,

Roll Hear Noise, 1 in 6.

20:49, Today: Amalrik rolled 2 using 1d6.  amalrik - Hear Noise.

Nothing, nada, zip, all is quiet under this floor.

In reply to DM (msg # 106):

"Perhaps we should drain the rest of the tanks, just in case?"

Manaku stands back, his hands in the air. "Be my guest if you want to. I'll be here if you get in trouble doing that, to pull you out."

Brodd carefully approaches the tank and looks in it.

There's the hole in the side which is no longer leaking since it's drained down to waist level. You can't see through the inky fluid, but judging from the ripples there's an opening in the bottom of the tank, wide enough for the creatures to travel through.

"It appears to have gone down some kind of hole or drain in the bottom!"

Manaku shrugs. "All good. Are you going to drain it or not?"

Einhard poked his spear in to the remaining liquid and started dredging around on the bottom. "My axe better be in there dammit."

It's Einhard's lucky day, for once. The handled is stained black, but the blade is clean after its wiped off.

"Perhaps we should start calling it, 'The Black Axe of Einhard?'" Let people wonder why only the handle is black.

Einhard cleaned the blade and hung the axe from his belt. "The Black Axe of Einhard..." He smiled at the elf. "I like it. The start of my own legacy. Let's get someplace safe and rest up so we can get out of here and spread my legend." The knight moved toward the door to retrieve his steed.

Brodd rolled his eyes.

Manaku pats Einhard on the back. "Your lucky day--you keep your axe and get a new tagline. Now, where to next?"

amalrik is the last to leave the room. he backs out, shuts the door , and is ready for a new direction.

"Let's find a safe place to rest and recover. I am sure those that were zapped by that thing need to regain the bearings." Einhard gathered the reins, and started talking softly to his steed to calm her as he gently patted her neck.