"10 workers, me and a cleric of of Gond and I were five of the ant creaturs. the foreman says.


After gaining that last bit of information the forman excuses himself and departs. You then gather any last bit of provisioning you need and head for the mine.

The mine is on the far side of what is known by local Lantanna as "The Lows". Which is a combination of swamp and thick rainforest's. Luckily there is a raised road that crosses The Lows which is covered in a black substance that in our own world would be called asphalt.

The road is well protected by a force of Lantana guards that patrol the road and you travel quickly to the the far side of The Lows. It is hot and humid and though travel is easy the hot tropical sun is hard on you, your only relief is the occasional passing rain shower that is common on the islands of Lantan.

When you depart the asphalt road you enter a small community set up on the green hills just south of the northern mountains. Several signs direct you to differn places on this side of The Lows. Illul another large city on the far north coast, The Irodo An immense canyon running through the middle of the island of Lantan.

Your path takes you to the north Irodo where the goverment has sold land to private contractors to mine various metals out of the lower peaks of Lantans mountain range.

When you arrive at the Svalkvor mine it is of course abandoned, tents and several large wood building exist around a large scaffold that stands roughly 100 ft into the air. A large strange machine is nearby which must be Artemis' invention. Four large mounds of sand are also seen in various locations.

OOC: Supplies? I really need an off-hand weapon, among other things. Was it 50 gp worth of stuff?

Ah, found the data: 30 gp. I'll equip Quinlan accordingly.
This message was last edited by the player at 06:24, Wed 06 Feb 2008.

Shall I scout ahead? The rogue asks, looking quite at ease in the heat in his loose-fitted silk shirt, his cloak stowed away now that he travels with a group of more socially accepted races.

Come on players...I cant lead you by the nose.

The gold-haired wizard shrugs nervously, uncertain how to solve the tactical problem.  The formians could be anywhere, including right beneath the party.  He picks at the hilt of his dagger, finding little reassurance there.

Though... while beneath the ground the formians could move unhindered, as fish in the sea, on the surface they were bound to a flat plane...  Garath muses, sinking into his thoughts.

Well Quinlan I think that might be a good idea. I'll provide you some cover. Taking out his bow and stringing it he sets several arrows into the ground ready for use.

Well Garath, what can these things do? Your silence on this is becoming a little perturbing to say the least.

Thanks, though I pray to Tymora I won't need it.

Quinlan readies his own bow and takes a good look at the surrounding area, focusing his attention on the two nearest sand mounds and the machine and scaffolding straight ahead.

12:23, Today: Quinlan Fairfellow rolled 21 using 1d20+8. Spot.

Young Darkstar blinks, Gareth's words knocking him from his reverie.  He looks levelly at the warrior while his mind replays those words and parses them.  *So, he gives me dirty looks every time I open my mouth, but he finds my silence perturbing?*  Garath chuckles inwardly.  *With some folks, you just can't win.*

Still, it is a fair request.  His presence here is certainly not due to his combat skills, so he might as well make what contributions he could.

"Yes.  Ahem," he coughs lightly into a rolled-up hand, and enters lecturer mode, a comfortable enough role for him to play.  "Everything we have been told, and seen, thus far - including these mounds - is consistent with the idea that our adversaries are formians, so I will proceed on that assumption.

"Formians are burrowing creatures who live in complex societies, with different castes filling different needs - workers, warriors, and the like.  The resemblance to ants is not accidental.  There are two key things you need to know about them to understand something of their capabilities and behaviour.

"First, they are extraplanar beings."  Garath pauses a moment.  "Sorry, a bit of jargon there.  I meant, they are from another plane, one associated with Order - not surprising given their highly-organized society.  This has a number of implications, not least of which is that certain spells that affect beings not native to this plane will be effective against formians.  A circle of protection, for example.  Moreover, beings from other planes are typically resistant to certain natural forces - or what we perceive as natural forces - on this plane.  Which forces they are resistant to will depend on what plane they are from, and the allocosmological vectoring to the different elemental and inner...  Sorry."  Garath shrugs, a little sheepishly.  "Jargon again.  The point is, these creatures, being from a plane associated with Order, will likely be resistant to both heat and cold, and possibly lightning as well.  Which somewhat reduces my offensive spellcasting options, I'm afraid.  Also, they probably do not need to eat while on this plane, so waiting here to ambush them when they emerge to forage may not be productive.

"Second, they are hive creatures.  They are in constant telepathic communication.  You cannot surprise them; even if you kill a sentry in utter silence, its very death will alert its comrades.  They probably attack in concert using intelligent tactics, though I am not sure how intelligent individual formians are.  It could be that their actions are dictated purely by mental commands from their queen..."  Garath's voice trails off, and he stares upward, pondering something, then starts muttering softly to himself.  "I wonder - could one tailor a circle of protection spell to sever the link between them and their queen?  If so, that would surely throw them into severe panic, they might well go catatonic... most interesting."  A longer pause, while the wizard takes a mental note.  "Err, yes.  Interesting, but academic, one might say.  One other thing to note - although the formians' insect legs probably give them a swift speed, they cannot burrow naturally as, say, a badger can.  They must dig out their tunnels like we do, with strenuous labor.

"Other than that, one can only speculate.  I would expect, given the resemblence to ants, that some of them might have poisonous stingers.  If that is the case, it is likely that they are resistant to their own poison, and perhaps poison in general, like scorpions are."

During his little presentation, Garath has been scanning the group, trying to make sure everyone is following his meaning.  As he closes, his eyes come back to the warrior, Smith.  "You probably do not need my advice on tactics.  But for what it's worth, I would rather fight these beings on the surface than in their own tunnels.  Also, we should try to focus our attacks on one at a time; from what the foreman said, they may have regenerative powers, so it would be more efficient to kill one off before attacking the next."

Quinlan looks at Garath with some interest: Say, it sounds like you've read a book on the subject? I'd liked it better not really knowing what we were up against. Gave me the illusion of having a fighting chance...
Quinlan shrugs and awaits the result of his scan of the surroundings...

Smith grimaces, Sounds like he swallowed the thing. But like it or not he is the expert on these things. looking at the terrain the fighter is not happy in the least. So by now they have probably total knowledge of the mines, which we don't, excellent communication, which we don't and a cohesive defence.

Smith snorts with laughter, I think we should see if they will negotiate.

The sand mounds are rather uninteresting in general, at least from this distance. The machines seem to have been left as they are. You can see also several stained areas in the area where it is obvious someone died and then was dragged away. Whether they were dragged away by the miners or the formians you to far away to tell.

[Private to Garath Darkstar: Excellant Roleplay!   100 XP Bonus]

Oh, so now he wants to negotiate.  The academician chokes down a sardonic I-told-you-so comment, deeming the gibe unworthy of a gentleman of his upbringing.  Besides, he tells himself, give the man credit for admitting his mistake and changing course.

Aloud, he says, "I concur," with only a slight dryness to his tone betraying his thoughts.  He looks around, to see the reaction of the other team members.

And how do we go about doing that? Let me sneak a peek first, and try to gather what information there is; maybe we can find something worth negotiating over?

Garath nods, soberly.  He could probably identify something of value to the formians, to negotiate over, but first the team needed to get a formian to talk rather than attack on sight.

A short, softly-uttered but resonant chant calls forth a faint shimmer that bends the light around the mage for an instant, then fades into near-invisibility, leaving Garath with an ever-so-light bluish tint.  His spell complete, the youth begins scanning the four mounds, hoping to be able to react quickly to any formian that might emerge to threaten his friend.

Alright then, I can't detect any activity so I'd better get going.
Quinlan's dark face is split by a wide grin as he nocks an arrow to his bowstring and sets off, as silent as a cat. Aiming for the area near the machine he intends to investigate the area of the fighting first.

20:49, Today: Quinlan Fairfellow rolled 6 using 1d20+2. Move silently at normal speed (-5).

Keeping the elf in sight Smith scans the area for any sign of movement. He has his bow in hand and an arrow notched.

The wizard, about a dozen steps away from Smith, likewise scans the area, a worried look on his face.

With steps less soft then he would hope for Quinlan moves toward what looks to be an area near a sand pile that is bloodied and scuffed with the prints of battle.

As he sweeps the area no formian jumps from behind anything to eat him and he makes a slow circle around checking things out.

One thing he does notice however is that the mine is a straight shaft that goes down quite deep and all ways of decent have been torn away by the formians.

Quinlan searches the area for anything less obvious at a first glance, such as items left behind or dropped during fighting. The rogue also tries to determine the the direction and origin of formian tracks on the ground.

14:41, Today: Quinlan Fairfellow rolled 22 using 1d20+5. Search.

Nothing particular is found, tracks of both humans and formians are everywhere.

The Track feat and a subsequent survival check is required do do any more.

21:31, Today: Quinlan Fairfellow rolled 6 using 1d20. survival (track feat).

Not sure of his ability to follow tracks, Quinlan resorts to other means and pulls a furry ball out of a gray bag and throws it on the ground. As it hits the ground the ball seem to wiggle and distort as two leathery wings grow out and start to flap. Moments later a small bat flies around the half-drow looking a little lost in the daylight. Oh well!
Quinlan orders the bat down the wellshaft to look for any sentries. He stays a little distance from the hole until getting the all clear from the animal.

Quinlan moves about the area carefully checking tracks. But formian tracks are practically impossible to track it seems for he comes up with no more information then he had before he started.


The bat flys down the hole and never returns, however much to your chagrin small tremors are felt below your feet and its clear you have awoken the formians.

You wait with seconds passing like minutes wondering what is about to happen and to see the creatures that you have talked about for the past few days.

ROLL INITATIVE!

15:52, Today: Quinlan Fairfellow rolled 16 using 1d20+4. Initiative.

Quinlan signals to his companions the imminent arrival of the formians, then looks for a better tactical position.

OOC: Awaiting the result of the initiative roll. How far is the scaffold from Quinlan's position (above the mine shaft)? The machine? Is it scalable? And for the record: Quinlan never waits seconds to act... ;-)
This message was last edited by the player at 15:03, Mon 18 Feb 2008.

Well librarian it looks like you'll get your chance. Be very good at talking.

Smith drew the bow and held his release, hoping that Darkstar could do his job.

OOC: 15:44, Today: Gareth Smith rolled 10 using 1d20+5. init.