With the possible exception of the Dwarf, none of the Exemplars has ever even seen a gnome before, but they have encountered their handiwork. The mechanical claw, the printing press, the false ghost, the word lock, even the runaway minecart engine.

But not even the wonders glimpsed by the deadly locomotive could have prepared for what lies in this room as Manaku and Amalrik swing the doors open wide over the protest of their screeching hinges.

The air is dusty and leaves an acrid stench in your nostrils. The eerie blue light burns ominously from an orb set into a blue pylon at the back of the room. The light reflects in shifting patterns off the ceiling, indicating the two platforms flanking the pylon are filled with liquid.

The center of the room looks like it was a very organized place with gnome-sized wooden furniture. But everything is smashed and strewn about with scattered leafs of parchments and bits of unidentifiable machinery. A small skeleton crumpled at the base of an upturned table indicates the grim fate that befell them.

The walls subtly reflect the blue light and the party's illumination as well. The smooth metal would shine much brighter after a through dusting. Then you could probably make out all of the consoles and controls wrapped in thick cobwebs.

Brodd looked on in awe and wonder at the sight before him. He took a step forward, drawn by the blue light and the sights he was seeing.

"Help!"

Harald's plea echoes from distant corridors, your best guess from behind that pylon.
This message was last edited by the GM at 13:57, Thu 30 May 2019.

Brodd, trying to figure out HOW Harald could have been barred in a room from the outside, doesn't believe it is Harald, but he says to the others "It sounds like Harald, I don't know, do not leave the door unattended!"

Brodd works his way in, "Where are you Harald, come to us!"

Einhard stopped short of entering the room with his steed in hand. "If Harald is inside this room, someone locked him in there. I better stay outside the door, so we do not all suffer the same fate."

The Seeker had seen many things in his days, he was having trouble keeping track of just how many days (lumped into years) that exactly was, but he was surprised to find himself surprised at the room full of machinery. "Don't drink that Chomper... gnomes don't get very big. You wouldn't want to stunt your growth..."

He shuffled into the room and began to look around, particularly for dust on the floor and any tracks that might be therein. "You smell anything Chomper? Anything that's NOT rotten gnomish pastry crumbs... like our lost bard perhaps?"

Chomper seemed to sigh and resign himself as assigned, though he cast a lingering glance at a certain place among the dust bunnies under a table.

"Whatever it is, it isn't Harald I don't think."

Amalrik places his hand on his sword. When in unusual places, be ready for anything, including dearly departed recent friends. Being imitated by something else. He follows Chomper's glance under a table, squatting down to check it out.

It's rather dusty. A quick brushing reveals more parchment with a script neither the Barbarian nor the dog can identify. The scribble looks totally different from the blocks of that printing press he saw before, he knows that much. Some of them have drawings too.

"Leave? Or try to kill what it is? Harald did not come this way, how it sounds like him, I don't know."

We won't know for sure, until we have looked behind, under and inside every machine.

Regdoc stooped, bones and joints protesting, and scooped up the papers, drawings and so forth. He rifled through them to perhaps get an idea of what they might be all about. In his days long past as an acolyte, he'd been charged to catalog and organize sacred writings. Granted such writings in the faith of the Wandering God were few in relation to other religions, most records being the trodden and worn soles of adherents, Regdoc nonetheless had gained a bit of worthwhile experience.

"What's all of this about..." he muttered.


Intelligence check (Acolyte Background +4 = TN11): Regdoc rolled 18 - Pffft. Nope.

Some of the drawings are so complex, their paths so circuitous, they make the poor old priest's head spin.

Much like his days in the abbey, which was a tent - the servants of the Wandering One were never in one place for long, paperwork had always had that affect on him. Ah the memories of those long ago days...

"Firestarters," he grumbled. "Shame Sasar isn't here to make sense of these scratchings...."

He continued his perusal, perhaps more oblivious than he had been as to the purpose of the room.

[DM acting for Stoneblood]

The dwarf picks up one of the papers.

"Aye, that's Gnomish! Somethin' about...securin' the pipes an' blockin' th' rails cuz th' creatures below are makin' more attacks since they recovered the...what is this word?

He carries the page closer to one of the torch bearers.

"I hate when they smoosh their words together to make new words! Before? Oh ancient...stone...lightning...spreader?"

Brodd backs up toward the door, not turning his back on whatever it is.

”Help!”

It’s a bit louder this time. A bit more of a metallic echo to it.

"I think we should leave it alone and leave." Brodd says continuing to back toward the door. "It isn't Harald"

Creston tries to find the source of Harald's voice. He believes it is coming from some object in the room, so he is looking inside the most obvious ones.

"Harald, where are you? Are you inside one of these boxes?"
This message was last edited by the player at 16:49, Sun 02 June 2019.

Brodd heads out the door, knowing Harald is not inside, not alive anyway.

Amalrik joins Creston in looking for Herald ... Poking and prodding things, trying to zero in on the voice. Leaving an adventuring mate behind is not the barbarian way ...

"I say move on, Harald is not here, the door was barred from the outside and had not been opened in ages, he is not in here."