Searching through the contents of the room, you find several bales of good linen, crates of tin pots and pans, and several chests of china dishes wrapped in straw. You judge these items to be worth about 450gp put together, though transporting it all could prove challenging.

Upon closer inspection, you realize that the ring is a ring of infravision! The pouch contains 10gp.
Nothing stirs in the corridor, though the thick cobwebs prevents light from reaching the ceiling...

Ronan looks up at the cobweb-choked ceiling.

"Fire! Fire! Fire!" he then starts to grunt-chant in a fit of primitive fervor.
This message was last edited by the player at 18:28, Mon 22 May 2023.

Bernhard shakes his head at the collection of items.

"Fine things, but worthless here."

Stepping back out into the corridor, Bernhard joins the others at the hanging corpse.

"Burning the webs will make a lot of smoke. Anyway, do you think we are on the right track? There don't seem to be any slavers or slaves down this way."

Angus takes a torch from the wall and lights up the webs, hopefully burning any spiders above!

Bernhard backs away to the doorway of the storage room and covers his nose and mouth.

The webs quickly begin to burn, filling the corridor with a fiery glow as the fire devours them. Through the flames and the cobwebs you catch a glimpse of an evil eight-eyed head, which hisses at you as it completes its wicked work.
17:26, Today: Dungeon Master, on behalf of Black Angus, rolled 14 using 1d20 ((14)).
A large sheet of burning webbing falls upon Black Angus. It would have enveloped him, had the warrior not rolled away at the last second.
17:27, Today: Dungeon Master rolled 4 using 2d6.  Morale.
Two of giant spiders skitter northwards along the ceiling, fleeing the flames!

"That was close, there were a couple of big ones up there, hopefully the fire will get them, probably not though." he says as he rises from the floor where he rolled to to avoid the burning webs!

Falan put an arrow in his bow, and made sure to keep an eye out for any approaching spiders, so that he could put arrows in them.

Satisfied at the work of his friend, fire, Ronan advances to the second door, eager to find more playmates.

Bernhard readies his own bow and moves forward, watching the ceiling down the corridor to the north.

"Glad you're so quick on your feet Angus. Getting covered in spider webs is one thing, burning spider webs is another."

OOC: I'd like to point out that that save might have spared Black Angus' life. He only has 4 hit points.

The party moves to the next room. It appears to be a storeroom. The piles of tradegoods are dust covered and appear not to have been touched for some time. Suddenly there is a hair-raising moan and the clanking of chains from the northeast corner of the room. There, a luminiscent shape begins to form the figure of a wasted elf struggling with ghostly chains that hold him to the wall. As the party watches, the figure breaks its chains and comes rushing forwards.

"I told you we were in the wrong place! Get out and shut the door!"

Bernhard quickly switches to sword and shield just in case the ghost attacks.

In reply to Bernhard (msg # 323):

"Brother Nerrag, can you heal me? Can you turn the undead?"

"Angus, I think that might be the wrong order!"

Falan takes aim for the figure, ready to fire if the need arises.

Ronan yelps and backpedals out of the room.

"No, sir! I have no more curing spells left!" Brother Nerrag says, clutching his holy symbol. "In the name of all that's holy...", he begins to chant.

The figure turns and flees, but its movements are strange; it is as if it was frozen in place, but moving as if climbing up stairs, looking back wildly over its shoulders. You can barely see a hint of the steps beneath it, as ghostly as the figure itself. Then, it appears to run in place, turning a corner later to a hallway with many doors. He scrabbles at the latch to one door until it opens, terror written all over his face...

OOC: Do you continue watching or just leave altogether?


Ronan (and perhaps Bernhard?), nothing stirs outside the room for now...

"You got any potions? I think one good hit would end me at this point, maybe find somewhere to rest for a night."

Ronan peeks back into the room from which he just fled, curiosity getting the better of him.

"If we'd like to move on, I could step into the front rank. I've not been hurt yet."

OOC: Bernhard had moved back to the corridor.

Bernhard watches the corridor for any sign of the spiders.

The ghostly man runs into a room, but it appears to have no other exits. Looking over his shoulder in stark horror he beats the wall and attempts to tear a torch holder off a wall. As he does, a section of the wall opens and he leaps through the gap desperately. Behind him bound dark, hairy, slavering  forms, running on four legs. Down a darkened passage the elf stumbles, only the pale yellow of his eyes visible. Suddenly there is light as the wall at the end of the passage opens into a hall and he bursts forth beating off the baying pack of wolves that try to drag him down. Through an arch he runs and there on his left is another door. He pushes the door open, but too late as a great white wolf leaps upon his back and bears him down into the storeroom, ripping his throat. Then the mangled form of the unfortunate slave is dragged off into a corner to be devoured by the slavering wolves. A cold breeze sweeps through the room, blowing the image away...
All remains quiet outside, for now...

"Everything ok?" Bernhard call from the hallway.

"I don't know how to answer that question, Bernhard."

“Is anyone dead?”

Bernhard pokes his head in the doorway.

“Well, you’re all still alive so I guess that’s good enough.”

"I know I'm alive at least!" he says with a grin!