Tis appeared a good road, strong with excellent cobbles gleaming in the noon-day sun. The promise of adventure  floated from the trees, proud oaks flowing onto sections of that gorgeous road.

Though just beyond the near golden hills, darkness lurked in a menacing forest [2]. In the distance those clouds awaited menacing, with a glint of steel here and there. Something odd, something left behind.

Unfornately the road led there, nothing else to do almost but go where that darkness lurked. Slim chance an real chance that anything would occur here on this wonderful road.

Would it [d8]?

Gregory looks at the dark forest and grips his holy symbol. Then he looks at his companions and says, "Anyone want to turn back now?"

Dr. Madz walks up beside gregory, looking down the path, single eyebrow raised. He looks to Gregory, and says "Why, on Golorian would we do that?" Then walks under the dark canopy, but backs up a tad, and pulls out a small picket sign that says "I have dark vision." and shows it off as if to the world. Then continues down the road. After a brief moment he stops and looks back,  the refection of his sunglasses seeming to glow in the darkness. "Wait... you're not afraid of the dark are you?"
This message was last edited by the player at 19:23, Tue 24 Jan 2023.

A string of colorful curses broke the awkward silence, perhaps making things even more uncomfortable, save that the words were mashed together and in a rather bombastic - yet lilting - language. A short gnomish fellow barked and burbled as he banged a metal disc-like object upon a pile of scrap metal which was mildly steaming along the side of the road. If a scrap heap could look annoyed, this one was certainly the poster child.

"Ahha! Haha! Ha!" the little fellow exclaimed, bouncing around haphazardly on a wooden leg. He held the disc up triumphantly before checking to see what was indicated beneath a covering of grease-smeared glass.

"That way!" he gesticulated in the direction of the forebodence. Looking up again his small shoulders slumped.

Sighing heavily he relented. "Fine. That way."

He kicked the scrap pile which recoiled, feelings hurt.

Looking up at the sign he mumbled the words... "Phorbidden Phorest (100 pheet) --> ... phantastic."

Gnorton rolled 14 using 3d6 ((4,6,4)).

Gregory says, "There's no need to hide when it's dark outside," and holds up his holy symbol, which has the shape of a frozen flame. It bursts into a heatless fire that lights up the surrounding area much like a torch would.

The Man Formerly Known as Jon Hudson, as he had introduced himself when he started following the group out of nowhere, was floating behind in the formation, his transluscent form more goofy than eerie. The ghost had introduced him as a chef working on the ultimate dish, and he needed a party of brave adventurers that could take him to unexplored lands with unknown ingredients he could draw inspiration from.

"Please don't forget to collect any mushrooms you see!"

He winces at the sight of the holy symbol, but makes no comment.

In reply to Ex-Jon Hudson (msg # 6):

Gregory says, "Yes, some mushrooms can make excellent teas. There's one that grows on the underside of the docks in Porterton and if you steep it with a bit of honey, it really cuts the bitterness."

"That's not the only weird thing growing in Porterton..." Gnorton grumbled as he continued trying to sort out the wincing scrap pile.

"Hold still or I'll melt you down and wear you as a belt buckle!"

The metal shuddered. How the little gnome could wear a buckle whose mass would be several times his own - theoretically - was difficult to imagine. The feat would likely require the use of some sort of machine...

A small, hammer appeared in his hand, fished from somewhere in the leathern apron he wore. This was employed to begin banging, seemingly at random, on the pile of scrap metal, which relented slightly at every blow.

In reply to Gnorton (msg # 4):

OOC: What is Gnorton rolling for? Look at something, for something, make something, eat something?
This message was last edited by the GM at 01:21, Wed 25 Jan 2023.

I assumed "d8" was a Target Number... Gnorton strikes first and strikes hard!
This message was last edited by the player at 01:33, Wed 25 Jan 2023.

OOC: i threw out a lot of target numbers.. but that one stuck.

The sensors on the TANK picked up a grotto opening behind an old tree. Slim chances appear to be the norm in all this. The systems reveal several features. They are...

OOC: Monologue of Victory Gnorton. What could be down there, systems reveal?

"Phorbidden Phorest! Bah! Some ph- err... fey prank I would argue!" the gnomish fellow continued his grumblings.

He seemed to give up momentarily in his efforts to motivate the scrap heap and turned to the odd assortment of companions. "Gentlemen, I believe there's water, and yes, perhaps a mushroom or such to be found behind that tree over there... no, wait... that tree... I think... hang on..." He clanked the disc a little and checked the indicator needle once more. "Nope, I was right the first time. That tree!"

He obfuscated the gizmo into one of his many pockets and placed his hands on his hips. "I'd suggest we top off our supply of each and make preparations for entering yonder forest. I don't see anything for it but to march ourselves right into some sort of misfortune, so at least we should have something to eat and drink on hand when it all goes sideways..."

Turning to the hidden grotto he postulated, "Who knows, perhaps there's a shortcut to be found within?"

Using the odd little short-handled hammer, Gnorton really got after the scrap heap. Bappity-Whap!

The heap shifted into a more upright position, stretching almost like a hound awakened from an afternoon nap in the sun, and arranged itself into something akin to a carriage, though a terrifically unique and odd one at that!

It had no wheels, but instead interconnected plates of iron clad with a dark, slightly stretchy substance. Its arms were hinged in odd places, one hand had only two large fingers in pincer fashion, the other hand was missing entirely though it looked as if one could be reattached, or if not a hand then some other implement in its place. In the center, its body was a roundish tub with various and sundry ports, drawers and plates, entirely studded with countless rivets. The head of the contraption was a glass bubble which was currently tilted backwards as if the top jaw were hinged so as to allow a bystander to look down into the machine's innards. Interestingly, there was a small chair in the midst and a dozen or so levers and a rainbow of buttons, some of them flashing. In the rear was a battered exhaust pipe which somewhat rhythmically jetted puffs of steam.

Gnorton pegged his way to it and clambered up inside. He pulled a safety strap around his torso and lowered his goggles. "Can't be too careful... thing's always trying to kill me!" he muttered. A depressed button ignited a light from the central torso region.

"Well boys? Let's go have a look, shall we?"

"I agree, we could always use fresh supplies, but tell me... Ugh, gnorton was it? Ive been meaning to ask, What is this marvelous contraption?" Dr.Madz phd looks around the pile of scrap and pokes at it with a gloved finger. "Ive havent seen anything like it. What can it do?"
This message was last edited by the player at 17:51, Wed 25 Jan 2023.

Gregory looks at the scrap pile too. "Is it ... alive?"

OOC: If you choose to enter the Grotto, it goes in the other thread.

Gnorton leaned back in his chair, and his entire countenance lit up like a 'lectro-torch. It was obvious that the cantankerous contraption was his pride and joy.

"Transforming, Adaptable... ah... aherm..." he began before mumbling something that might have been Neverfinished, "...Knapsack!" His pointed ears flickered a little, a gnomish expression of pride.

"It's heavy-duty, steam-powered, hydro-enhanced, auto-loading, and certainly multi-purpose. After my accident with my leg, I dedicated nearly my entire research and development budget to the Mark II. The third iteration got some significant upgrades of course, and this sleek beauty is the Mark IV."

The machine seemed to purr with appreciation for such a compliment.

Gnorton noticed and scowled, but continued on with an expansive summary of the materials and designs he'd been working to perfect on the T.A.N.K.

"What can it do? What can't it do?" he asked in retort. "Well I'll tell you! Very little." It wasn't exactly clear which of the two questions he was answering.

When the beanpole of a human spoke, Gnorton sputtered and fumed. "ALIVE? Bah! This bucket of bolts is about as far from alive as... as... well NO! It ain't alive, it's a machine, a construct, an assemblage, a... a contrivance, an implement, an apparatus, erm... an automotator, a fabrication, a habiliment... and... an... ornery mess of cogs, hydrostats and spontificators, and it's always trying to kill me!" The gnome's face was red, probably from over exertion.

"Of course it's not alive!" he insisted once he'd regained his breath.

The machine made a very indelicate sound as it off-gassed something sulfuric from its talepipe - which happened to have somehow gotten pointed in Gnorton's direction!

He pulled out his odd little hammer and banged it back into place.

"So, there you have it. The T.A.N.K. Mark IV. And as soon as I get some time I'm going to dismantle it to the frame and upgrade its motivational circuitry!"

The machine lurched petulantly, causing the glass dome to fall into place with a Click! Gnorton's beard had gotten stuck in the latch. Luckily for everyone, the thick glass muted the eruption of gnomish obscenities and banging noises as Gnorton tried to free himself from within.

Dr. Madz stands for a while outside the grotto
He scratches the tip of his nose as he contemplates and says
"what is to be alive? We know plants are alive but dont move or think, well most of the time. At what point do we draw the line? If a chair is animated is it not alive? I be-" he looks around "hey, where'd everyone go?"
This message was last edited by the player at 00:42, Mon 30 Jan 2023.

Dr, Madz heard a raucous of noises coming from the Grotto Entrance (5) nearby.

OOC: Pssst go to the other thread.