"Well, now, how about that?" Barnabas addresses Nerida, as if she, and not Ermangard, had avenged the kid.

He keeps grinning, "All of us have curried favor with the god or gods of goats on this day."

He makes a mental note to not partake of curried goat stew at the next opportunity.

In theory, he knows that the organs, glands, and various other innards and outards could be harvested from certain beasts. It is not something he has ever done in the field, so to speak. Field-training, it would have to be. He gathers his three daggers, chooses the sharpest of three, and then sets to work removing the beetle's ruby-colored nodules.

It was a grisly task and one that took a few minutes of hacking and chopping. When Ben had completed the butchering of the firebeetle he plenty of blood on his hands however besides him he had laid out the three glands. All three continued to glow and bathe the room in a faint reddish glow.

Once the group is ready, Teodore will open the door to the north.

"How long to you think they will keep glowing?" Fiene asks curiously. "Fireflies eventually go dark."


He lines up with his lantern and pole as Teodore starts the move to the north.

Butchery complete, Barnabas secrets the three nodules in one of his pouches designed to store exotica. No leakage.

Shrugging at Fienne, he follows the others to the front door as it were.

~~~

VALUABLES
Platinum Pieces (PP): 0
Gold Pieces     (GP): 87
Electrum Pieces (EP): 0
Silver Pieces   (SP): 4
Copper Pieces   (CP): 0
Fire Beetle Nodules (FBN): 3
This message was last edited by the player at 00:45, Sun 27 Dec 2020.

The glowing glands were harvested. When they were packed away the illumination they offered was sealed away, the party relying upon the lanterns of Ben and Fiene.

Teodore returned to the door in the first chamber and tried to open it.

OOC Teodore make an Open Doors check, roll 1d6.

Day: 1. Time: 11:00am. Turn: 12. Weather: Clear. Vision: Daylight. Movement: 20'

Lantern oil used Ben and Fiene: 6 Turns

Anfinn watched the pocket with a grin. The face will head to the back.

21:42, Today: Teodore rolled 5 using 1d6.  Open Doors roll.

The door was rotten and damp. It did not want to open and was stubborn with its refusal as Teodore pushed unsuccessful at it. The door did not open.

None were there to spot Beryl cross the Four Tower Bridge, though he dropped his silver in anyway, being a good lad, if somewhat scrawny.

He stopped at the Moorland Magpie as well, though he didn't hesitate long, as he was far short of what it would take in coin to spend the night indoors. It would probably be another hungry night as well, though sleeping under the stars was never an issue, praise Auril, (barring rain of course, which he would endure but never learn to love).

Tipping back his hat, he utilized his fine orphanage schooling to figure out the notice, and was directed after the others.

Soon he came upon the canyon and it's strange environs. Poking about, he sought out the adventurers he had been told had come this way, hoping it were no rude prank, though he had to admit he did tend to fall for such silliness with sad regularity...

"Callooh Callay? Be there anybody out there?" he cried out, his voice echoing thru the canyon.

"In here," Barnabas calls out in reply.

After Teodore fails to come to an understanding with the door, he turns to Nerida, "Go ahead. Give it a tug or push. Both."

Should she struggle as well, Barnabas will deploy his powers of persuasion next.

Urged forward Nerida attempted to open the door. The young girl was nervous and with shaky hand she pushed and pulled at the stuck door but it failed to open.

"Most obstreperous," Barnabas mutters after failing to budge the door. He shrugs and checks out the passage to the east.

The door blocked their path, impatiently Barnabas explored the other passageway. Around the corner Ben found another small chamber. The chamber was littered with the discarded leftovers from a camp, these included an old campfire and a broken bottle.


This message was last edited by the GM at 15:49, Mon 28 Dec 2020.

Hearing a mysterious voice from on high, Beryl ponders if the source be mortal or more than, then decides to follow it either way. Trudging up the path to the cave mouth, he pauses two, no three times to catch his breath before reaching the others.

"Hail, fellow travelers, Acolyte Plotz here, though you may call me Beryl. I worship Auril, goddess of the sky, and would hope to being aid and succor to your efforts here. I would warn you though, a young woman in the town told me of a cult of lizard worshipers who dwell within. We should be most cautious."

Connor kept his distance as he followed the group through the canyon.  He was just a farmhand two weeks ago and circumstances forced him into this risky endeavor.  Earn the gold to save the farm, but this adventuring career field was a dangerous one and Connor knew he wasn't qualified.  His best bet would be to find a group and stick with them for as long as he could.

He finally reached a point that the young fighter could see the trail end of the group at the mouth of a cave, so he jogged to catch up and join them.  As he approached the group sweat beads flowing down his temples "Greetings all, my name is Connor, if you would accept me to your group I pledge my bow to you in service."

Anfinn rubbed his chin thoughtfully. He reached in his bag of tricks and plied his trade.

"Let me see if I can open the door.."

ooc: Unlock door skill

Whilst Beryl and Connor made their acquaintance in the canyon Anfinn took another look at the door. He tinkered with lock but to no avail it was rusted and broken. Anfinn then gave the door a hefty push for it to swing inwards. The room beyond the door was ten feet by ten feet. A heavy scent of rot and mildew escaped the open door and filled the cave. Inside the room was rotten crates, barrels, cloth, leather and a slimy floor.

"Ewww...." Beryl sniffed unhappily at the scent. Not the worst he had ever encountered but still well in to the nasty zone.

His stomach, however, growled. It seemed enough like food to that portion of his body to make comment. One he quickly (and firmly) said no to.

Just about the last thing he needed today was the drizzling shytes.

In reply to Beryl Plotz (msg # 153):

The apprentice turns to the newcomer.

"Ah. A cleric. We can always use another healer and warder of undead! I'm Valerian, the Prestidigitator. As if anyone keeps track of ceremonial titles anymore. Thank you for warning us about the lizard-cult."

OOC Map with small rotten chamber revealed.

Still morning and Barnabas found himself contemplating three mysteries:

(1) -- How long ago had this camp been used? He scans the detritus for any clues.

And, after having done so and wended his way through the throng to look at the water-logged storeroom, he wonders (2) how did this closed chamber become flooded? Did the water flow in or out? Does the warp of the door provide any clues?

And, finally, (3) how many more people were going to show up this morning? It's not like any of them was about to pay Nerida's well-earned wage.

"Lizardmen, you say," Barnabas muses--as had just been reported by one Mr. Plotz.

"It could be they know these chambers better than we and have their own secret ways in and out of them."

Fiene spends a few minutes while everyone is otherwise occupied to inspect the western room.  It seemed unlikely this was the extent of the cave.  Trusting Ermangard to watch over him, he shines his lantern on the walls, looking for a crack or some discoloration in the stone that might indicate there is another portal here.  The floor as well, might have scratches or something leading elsewhere.

Examination of the old camp gave few clues to Ben, apart from the fact that it was old. There were no signs that it had been recently used. The remains of the campfire were cold and the litter was scattered around with no signs of use.

In the other chamber Fiene examined the walls but found nothing to indicate another door.

From the doorway of the storeroom everything within looked spoilt, it was unclear what the source of water was.

OOC Day: 1. Time: 11:20am. Turn: 14. Weather: Clear. Vision: Daylight. Movement: 20'

Lantern oil used Ben and Fiene: 8 Turns

Beryl pokes at the rotted and soggy detritus on the floor with the top of his staff. While he suspects the odds are thin, he hopes to maybe find something still edible. That said, he does so at the extreme distance his staff allows, careful of what might pop out of the mass and mess.