Thistleby is a small village roughly halfway between the city of New Port in the west and Proudfort in the east. It's about 2-3 days ride to New Port. The village is about ½ days march south from the coastline of the Midland Sea and a closest town, Lantern Hill, there.

Terrain here is grassland flats with occasional low hills. Many of the hills have visible remains of old ruins; lost towns, keeps and such. Mostly they are just low stumps of rock, last remains of some old stone structure resisting time and the elements.

Thistleby is protected with a wooden palisade made of timber imported from south, from the northern borders of Wild Wood forests. Buildings are mostly single-storey, combinations of stone blocks, timber and sometimes muck bricks. They style is that of efficiency, not beauty or architecture. In the middle of the village there is a cubic two-storey building made of heavier stone blocks, clearly build on top of some ancient ruin base. It looks like unfinished stone tower and the locals call it mockingly "The Castle". It's the village communal building, in times of crises a mini-keep where the residents can seek safety.

The residents here are humans by majority with healthy mix of wood elfs, gnomes, halflings and an occasional half-orc. Most of them are farmers.

There is enough traffic through the village to support an inn; The Sage & Rose, a small establishment maintained and owned by a halfling female with bright red hair. Her name is Thertina Boulderbough. The inn is the only other two-storey building here in addition to "The Castle".

Our story begins when you have arrived into Thistleby. Perhaps you're travelling and just passing by, perhaps you have relatives or a friends here. Nevertheless, you've traveled for 2 days as a group and thus are acquainted with each other. You arrived here and slept a night in the second floor private rooms of the inn. Now it's the next morning, breakfast time. Noises of somebody cooking, furniture moving and occasional rooster crowing wakes you up.

+++

Feel free to describe your character, their appearance etc. as you do your morning routines and eventually go downstairs for a breakfast where you can have further conversation with each other, expanding further the image of who your travelling companions really are.

Consider the breakfast have been already paid. There are only 3 other patrons in the downstairs common room, all village residents, likely to have a tasty breakfast of the inn before heading into the fields.

Lady Magister made sure that her room was secure before she rested for the night, and when the morning was fresh she was already up and about.  Looking for a place to wash up and get herself ready for the journey ahead leaving this small town and toward Proudfort.

After her daily cleaning she dressed in a very nice looking dress that was in deep blue coloration.  Her hair was loose and falling down her back almost to the lower part of her thighs.  With her small hand crossbow at her side and a dagger or two placed in her boot she then made her way to the area where she could get a decent meal.

She wondered when the rest would be down and she was also wondering what was Jobol doing.  Surely he was still sleeping the day away.  As she took her seat she ordered her morning meal with fresh goat milk.

"Has any of the others come trotting down yet? she asked the innkeeper.

Vander woke, groaning as some of his clothes and items had taken to floating and orbiting around his sleeping body. "Talking in my sleep...again!" he muttered, annoyed. He gestured and spoke some simple words, and the various objects fell.

He proceeded to wake up and begin his morning routine. Most of which involved cleaning himself normally. Granted on the road he used magic, but he wanted to do some things without it. Besides, he remembered a few times when he was using a cleansing spell and accidentally spoke the word for fire. That had hurt in a place no man wished to burn.

Now cleaned and dressed, he headed downstairs. Unlike most mages, his perfect memory allowed him flawless recall of all his spell books, safety stored away in his mentor's tower. He even created sample pages floating in front of him made of light. It was such a detailed yet obvious illusion he nearly tripped down the stairs. He did managed to catch himself on the railing before breaking his fool neck.

He arrived in the main room, looking about at the others while sniffing for fresh cooked breakfast. Vander looked very much like someone had brought a scarecrow to life, turned it human, and let the ears grow much more than needed. He was not an ugly man, but thin and gangly. Aa a result his clothes hung off him rather than be fitted.

"Ah, my Lady! I see you are up already. Good morn to you! " He said, heading over to Magister. Vander gets a chair, which pulls itself out for him and he paused at stares at it. "I have to stop doing that..." he muttered as he sat down.
This message was last edited by the player at 21:39, Sat 04 Dec 2021.

"Your traveling companions? You're the first, my dear." Thertina smiles warmly to you. She wears simple dark green shirt, brown leather pants and an apron. Her stubborn hair is tied to a tight bun this morning. Lady being an dark elf doesn't seem to matter to her anything. She'll likely seen few of your kind passing through. She turns towards the door at the back leading to the kitchen area. "Eillee! You got the milks yet? If not make a run for them NOW! We have orders incoming! We'll have a rush hour here in a minute!"

"Alright! Alright!" a clear female voice responds to her from the kitchen.

"We'll get the milk to you in moment." She offers another warm smile to Lady Magister.

Seeing the young wizard-type coming downstairs she eyes him from head to toes. "And what would you like to have for a breakfast, young man?"

She awakens does Logresia, with a dream of the emperor still gumming her dark eyes together and there is a moment during which she continues returning to sleep but no.  Sleep is over for now although the dream, the dream must be fed.

She dashes cold water against her face and washes the sleep from her eyes as she cleans herself, her olive brown skin shining like sunlight through water on the rocks that line the bed of a babbling brook.  She runs a tortoiseshell comb through her anthracite locks and then stands, taking her oudh in her small hands, holding the neck as she caresses the strings as her first movement of morning.

Now the ballad begins.  Whenever there are dreams, there is always the ballad.  This ballad tells of the Emperor's coming of age.  As a youth he facing death in the form of the diabolist, come to rob the empire of the joys the empire could bring.  The diabolist came to corrupt the youth who would be emperor, but the Emperor's innocence was as bright and clear as the sunlight on midsummer's day and as the Diabolist came to tempt him, the Emperor gazed into those eyes and it was the Diabolist who folded between the ferocity of the youth's innocence.  It was the Diabolist who slunk away, useless and unlamented leaving the Emperor to take the place he deserved.

As the ballad comes to an end, she lets her long thin fingers linger on the strings as if they could absorb the sweetness of the notes and then she makes the bed before descending to where the others are ready for a hearty breakfast.

Lady Magister smiled to the innkeeper Thertina as she barked out some orders about fresh milk.  It was always good to have a peaceful morning meal and allow it to settle before all hell breaks out and one needs to fight something or another.

Her eyes watched as Vander came down the stairs and almost fell, which brought a slight giggle out of her.  His innocence was infectious but his carelessness was dangerous.  She watched as the chair moved out for him without being touched.  She could see that he was untrained of his uses of the magic that flows so graciously for those that are able to tap into it.  There was a slight stare upon him as he sat down.

"Yes it is always good to be up early.  Never know what you might miss if you sleep in.  Which I'm sure Jobol is doing at this very moment. she replied.

Then next she watched as Logresia comes down the stairs.

22:58, Today: Logresia Skrieven rolled 11 using 1d20+8.
Today, Logresia's playing was not as good as she had hoped and so she managed to gain neither the approval of the Emperor, nor the Diabolist's curse.  Perhaps tomorrow.  Today though, she breathed deep of the smell of breakfast as she descended with style and grace to take her place at the table.

"Good morning, Lady Magister", she said and "Good morning, Vander.  I hope you both slept well."  She smiled to each and sat down asking for... she tossed a coin and then said, "Something with meat for breakfast please, what's the usual in these parts? Bacon? Hunter's Sausage?"

"What's usual? The locals prefer porridge. That's what we prepare and have ready every morning. Other than that - well let me see now..." Thertina starts to count with her fingers. "Bacon with boilded eggs, or boiled eggs with small oat biscuits - Eillee is really good with those... then fresh milks, cow's or goat's..." She pauses. "Then beverages, of course but I wouldn't recommend those for breakfast. That's about it, I'm afraid. We are a small business, you know. What do you fancy, dear?"

Doherti enters the common room wearing his pack, sword, knife and hatchet on his belt and bow unstrung and stored on the side of the pack along with the arrows. The rucksack is not overly large, but it efficiently packed. There's a hammock in there somewhere, in which he had slept last night and every night where there where two trees close enough together. The innkeeper had a room already set up with hooks for such a purpose, arranged, the party was told, during an earlier visit Doherti had made to the inn. Which was a nice gesture, except that Doherti had never visited this inn before, as far as he could remember.

Doherti tucks into some simple but filling fare, standing as he eats and looking around the room and nodding a good morning to his fellow travelers. He makes the required small talk. It's clear that he's ready to move on - or stay here, or fight a pitched battle, or build a house, or whatever. He's just ready.
This message was last edited by the player at 23:54, Sat 04 Dec 2021.

In reply to Lady Magister (msg # 6):

"Yes I would like food, Mistresss Thertina, thank you. 3 boiled eggs, and 2 slices of bread." Normally he would boil and toast the food himself, but that was while travelling.

When the Lady spoke of sleep, he nodded. "Indeed what you say about rest is very true. My research often keeps me up when I should be sleeping."

When Logresia and Doherti, he rose to give the proper bows and greetings. He was not sure of ether person station, but he was not one to ignore proper manners. His mentor had trained them into him after all. "Good morn to both of you! Please sit, the Lady and I where about to break our fast."

"Porridge would be fine thank you Mistress Thertina", said Logresia.  "Morning, Doherti, as Vander says, were about to break fast." She met Vander's bow with a smile and returned it with a curtsey that somehow managed to be gracefully formal and scurrilously bawdy at the same time.

"Mistress." the sudden greeting came moments before Jobol himself appeared from out of eyeshot. Had he been there the whole time? Certainly no-one had seen him enter the common room. The malodorous scent that followed him began its insidious infiltration of the immediate area around him as he plonked his rake-thin and twisted body unceremoniously into a chair and barked at the innkeep. "Porridge like the rest of 'em. And eggs. Ale too."

He pushed his hood back to reveal a twisted countenance; ugly enough in both form and expression that even the most saintly might struggle to feel sympathy for the nasty little imp. Scarred and malformed with straggly, patchy hair and beard which were both greasy and matted. His wry grin at Lady Magister did nothing to improve his appearance. "What is your command today, Mistress?"

Thertina delivers your food after short wait and then moves to clear and clean the other tables, occasionally disappearing into back to the kitchen. The other patrons finish their breakfast and leave, each of them throwing a curious look to your direction, especially towards the disfigured gnome, before they exit.

For few minutes you have privacy. Then a man enters the inn with determined gait. He's dressed in leathers, has a dark blue cape with fur lining on his shoulders. He also carries a heavy sword on his lap. He notices you all and stands there briefly, his eyes washing over frame of Jobol, then that of Doherti, ending up to the Dark Elf and the others sitting together at the table. He approaches the table where most of you sit and clears his throat to get your attention.

"Ahem. I beg your pardon for interrupting your morning so bluntly." He begins with hoarse voice. "I'm Tristan Wheeler and I'm the head of this community. I come to you for asking your help. I know what I'm about to ask can be... bold and intrusive, but I'm out of options. So please, hear me out."

He pauses briefly to see he has your attention.

"We have people gone missing. Disappeared. That's quite unusual and I don't have means or resources to... to try to solve it. Families of the missing ones are afraid, and they look at ME expecting me to do something about it. I'm an old man. My swordsmanship days are over. So I ask you, good folks, would you help us, this village, to find those missing persons, or at least bring knowledge to their families of what might have happened to their loved ones if possible?"

Edit: I should type my NPC names correctly...
This message was last edited by the GM at 13:44, Sun 05 Dec 2021.

Lady Magister looked at all that was gathering at the table and offered them a greeting, suitable for their station.  She was a Lady of the Court and she knew how to get around in many social gatherings.

When Jobol spoke she wasn't startled but she did wonder how long has he been there or did you just want to give her the impression that he's been there when he just got up. She watched his mannerism at the table and she could see that he didn't wash yet and noticed a few bit of sleep boogers in his eyes.  Letting out a soft sigh she was about to say something when a stranger walked in the inn and then came closer to their table.

She looked him up and down as he perused all at the table.  There wasn't much to see so she continued her meal till he spoke.  Placing the glass of warm milk back on the table she listened and wondered why them. She saw many folks inside earlier for morning feast.

Not one spoke to them but gave them all some strange stares and there was a lot of whispering.

"Greeting Tritan Wheeler.  We are but a lonely traveling group that would need to discuss your towns problem.

Can you allow us that honor?

Vander stayed silent, but listened. All the while thinking what his mentor would say.

"A true Wizard...gets the money up front. And then decides weather or not some fool's errand will get him killed."

His memory was such he could instantly recall any of his teacher's words. He had pointed out he was on his mentor's errand even now. Some matters where best handled by an apprentice and not a master mage. Master Mages tended to be busy, but Vander rather suspected that meant drinking into the night sleeping into the afternoon. Knowing his teacher, the old man was drinking to forget.

Still, the master wizard was not here. The young apprentice was, he he still believed that those with power should help those without. Even if said task might risk death.

"The Lady and I are of one mind on this matter." Vander said, nodding to the man.
This message was last edited by the player at 14:27, Sun 05 Dec 2021.

Logresia smiled a smile like autumn and said, "Of course, the money doesn't have to be money as such, many people don't have any money but they still have interesting errands for us to run.  There has to be something though, something to make it worthwhile."

Logresia has met Lady Magister in the court in question, but who remembers the jester?

When Logresia mentions money, Tristan sighs and raises his hand. "I understand I'm asking a lot. You would have to take considerable risks here and such risks should be properly compensated. Yes, I understand that. I see some of you are magic wielding folk and the rest can provide good amount of sharp steel and arrows. I have understanding about these matters, having been an adventurer myself during my prime."

He pauses and looks at each of you in turn, assessing and pondering.

"I can't provide fancy arcane implements that would help you in this task - though I wish that would be the case -  but the community is willing to pay 50 gold pieces for each of you, if you manage to return the six missing residents safely home, or alternatively bring some valid evidence about their fate. Mind you, such wealth is not easily lifted from the people's back who try to make a living here. Yet they put up what they can for their loved ones.

What say you?"

Jobol ate his eggs and porridge noisily, slurped his ale and wiped his mouth on an already dirty sleeve. At Tristans' request, he suppressed a smirk but refrained from saying anything; such was not his place; he quirked an eyebrow at his Mistress to see what she would say and gave an almost imperceptible nod of approval.

At Logresia's offer of being paid in trade, he couldn't help himself and cackled, his mouth wide enough to reveal crooked, rot-blackened teeth and to amplify the halitosis that was surely the primary source of his lingering, ever-present stench. "No. No. Money will do just fine for me Mizz Minstrel. Don't think yer making any friends either, keeping us all up at night with yer caterwauling." He hawked and almost spat but threw a quick glance at Lady Magister first, thought better of it and swallowed the loogy instead. He washed it down with the last swallow of his ale and called for another.

The horrible dwarfish creature looked squarely at Tristan and nodded. "Sounds a fair price t'me. Ain't my call though. I just work here." His tone was nonchalant and dismissive, the very picture of a working 'yes man'.

"Time is of the essence," says Doherti, as he sets down the remnants of his meal. "If you take us to where the most recently vanished person was last seen, or known to be, I may be able to start tracking them."

Lady Magister noticed that the man wasn't willing to give her request the proper respect so she had to wonder was this mission worth her time.  She looked to Jobol and smiled "Oh how you love gold. she said then looked to the others.

If they were willing to ignore the request to speak in private and jump to the first mission asked then she had to wonder why.  Were they all so desperate for gold or to make a name for themselves even if it cost them their lives.

She kept quiet for now and allowed the others to speak.  Seeing that her words fell on death ears.

Logresia glared at Jobol and said, "Young man, you were down here when I began my caterwauling as you call it.  Any other caterwauling you may have heard was the work of actual cats."

She thought about the amount on offer though.  Fifty gold each was not much if they were to be risking their lives.  If it was all the villagers had and if their case was a good one then perhaps Logresia may be in favour anyway but she moved to sit next to Lady Magister.  "Perhaps," she said quietly, "We should indeed discuss.  I have a feeling that we would wish to help these people, but they cannot afford a decent fee.  Perhaps we could discover an alternative revenue stream while attempting to find the missing people?"

"Money and rewards can be decided later. We need to get moving before the trail goes cold. Weather through ritual magics or old fashion tracking and legwork. Time moves against us, yes?" Vander points out.

Granted, it went against everything his mentor had spoken about being a wizard. However, Vander was not secure in a tower able to demand anything he wished from desperate people. He was not that cynical...not yet anyways.

"You'll help us then?" There is a spark of hope in Tristan's eyes upon hearing Vander's words. "The gold will be yours if you can help us. You have my word on that. In addition, I'll personally own a favor to each of you."

Tristan turns his head towards the inn door and shouts:"Morland! You can enter now."

A shabby man enters. He's an older farmer, seems to be a bit afraid. Tall and lanky, the darker skinned man has tired grey eyes and elbow-length, wavy, brown hair. His outfit is that of a common peasant; scruffy, simple clothes. "Sir?"

"Morland here was in the eastern fields with his son Aisaac planting turnips. Morland had to briefly pop in the village. When he returned the boy was gone." Tristan turns back towards you and looks at you each in the eyes. "The boy is just 8 winters old. He's the last one gone missing and the youngest. Morland will take us to the east-fields where there were working at the time of the incident."

The old warrior turns to walk out. "You should probably take what gear you have and if you need anything, I'll see if I can help you with it. I'll wait with Morland outside."
This message was last edited by the GM at 12:22, Mon 06 Dec 2021.

In reply to Game Master (msg # 23):

"8 winters!?" Vander said, his face darkening at the idea of a child gone missing. He had seen too much of such things in the times before his mentor began his training. Even as his anger flared, the various cutlery and plates around his person rattles and  moves in ransom fashions, without him touching them.

"I will need something personal of the boy's possessions. The more personal the better." He said, the shocked outrage in his voice clear to eveyone.
This message had punctuation tweaked by the player at 12:47, Mon 06 Dec 2021.

"Gimme a few moments to collect my stuff", said Logresia and she went up to her room, dressed in her leather armour with her travelling coat over that and her knee-high boots on her feet.  She packed her purse and mace on her belt, her oudh in a special compartment in her backpack for ease of access and her hand crossbow also in a place of easy access, as were her fireworks.

Within three hundred heartbeats, she was back and ready to go.

Doherti was still ready. While waiting for the others he tried to get some other particulars about the child, Aissac: his size, what he had been wearing, any woodcraft he might know, or hiding places outside his home that he might try to reach if he got free.

---

I don't need actual answers to those questions. I'm just trying to establish that we are going into this with some pertinent information.

Morland makes a quick run to their home and shortly returns. "This is Aisaac's. Nobody else has used it, he's used it every day." He hands you a cleaned, worn wooden spoon.

+++

Morland answer's Doherti's questions the best he can. It's obvious the man is still in state of shock and struggles slightly to tell even mundane things coherently. In the end Doherti has a pretty clear image about a typical farm boy who's had to learn to help their family from early age; skinny, age 8, brown skin, short curly black hair.

In reply to Game Master (msg # 27):

Vander thanks the man for the spoon, wishing it had been a toy. Children invest much emotion into such things, but he himself had been too poor to get one. No doubt the same was true for the farmer.

"I shall endeavour to remedy that..." he muttered to himself without need. However, the spoon would suffice to affix the ritual version of the Arcane Mark. As soon as they got to the boy's last know location he could start the process.

ooc-10:28, Today: Vander Hickenlooper rolled 22 using 1d20+5. Int+level. Total of a 27 if natural genius in the mystic arts (+5) applies to my ritual roll. Given my high arcana class feature I can do the ritual in rounds rather than minutes.

Logresia sniffs back a tear and says, "He could be my brother.  I'm ready to move out as soon as we can."

Lady Magister still remained quiet as she stood up and looked over to Jobol for a brief moment before she walked upstairs to do whatever it is she was going to do.  These short lived races are always in such a hurry and never appreciate the beauty of time.

There was no rush from her gathering her belongs and it almost seemed that she was up there for over 15-20 minutes before even making another appearance at the top of the stairs.

"Jobol shall we see what we can do the help these ....the rest of her words were silent.  But she knew that Jobol got the end of her sentence.

This time something small was sitting upon her shoulder, it was of a strange metallic coloration and one could swear it was some sort of Dragon.

Jobol snorted derisively at Logresia calling him "young man". He was neither young, nor anything resembling common perceptions of what constitutes a "man". He was a monster and he felt no shame knowing it.

While the others gushed over the plight of the victims, Jobol merely drank his ale, somehow managing to achieve the feat of doing so in a cynical manner. As Vander performed his ritual, marking the child's spoon with his magic, Jobol squinted and kissed his teeth. "Ooooh. Might want to watch that kind of hoodoo, little mage. Might give someone the wrong impression. Might look like witchcraft to some. Seen folk burned for less." he said ominously, his expression dark, before bursting into cackling laughter at his own grim sense of humour.

He followed his mistress up the stairs, hobbling behind her whilst in plain view. Branching off to his own room briefly to collect his meagre belongings, he waited outside her door, quietly scrutinising his pig-skulled staff to idle the time, lost in his own thoughts of this situation.

At the top of the stairs, lurking behind her subserviently with his hood once again raised and concealing his face in comforting darkness, he nodded confirmation to Lady Magisters question, smirking at that which was left unspoken. He squinted up at her draconic passenger "G'morning Wyrm" he growled quietly for close ears only, his tone curiously deferential. He tapped his staff rhythmically on the stairs as they descended, punctuating the arrival of the graceful Lady Magister with the sinister rattling of the fetishes and tokens that adorned it.

In reply to Jobol Harguld (msg # 31):

Vander smirked at the gnome. "Please...they dont burn actual wizards. They excute harmless people who the community has a grudge against.

That's when a group of the so-called 'witch hunters' bravely set fire to someone without a way to burn them right back."

This message was last edited by the player at 19:25, Mon 06 Dec 2021.

Logresia sighs.  "Please!  It all depends on who you mean by 'they'.  Some 'they' burn true wizards just as soon as the helpless.  Some even feed on them or so I heard."

In reply to Logresia Skrieven (msg # 33):

Vander shrugs. "Any wizard who goes so insane as to get an entire community after them does not get excuted by angry farmers. Literal champions have to rise up and bring down a person who can command the power of the overworld. Or other wizards do it because some idiot necromancer is making the entire group of them look bad." He shrugs.

"That sort of thing is why Wizards live in those tall towers." He pauses. "Not just the Male wizards either. Although to be fair, there is a lot of tower measuring and staff waving between male wizards." He sighs at that.

Lady Magister's eyebrow arched at hearing Vander's comments and now she understands and is thankful that her Powers comes from within herself not from ready book or old smelly tomes.  They take forever to reach the levels of what a Sorceress can and one don't need to worry about towers or staffs.

She gracefully descends down the stairs and into the lobby area where the others were waiting.

"It seems that the morning is already starting out with such joyful discussions.

Logresia grins at Lady Magister and says.  "Well I'd sing a joyful song instead but Jobol's not a fan of caterwauling.  Besides, I'm not feeling very joyful at the moment and even I can't stand the sound of dirges."

Jobol chuckled perversely at the mention of towers and staves, but refrained from commenting. He doggedly followed his mistress, leaning on his staff to support his twisted posture. He glared at all the others and made mental note of the equipment they now bore. "Well. Are we going or what?" He snipped impatiently.

It's a sunny day with slight breeze and mild temperatures. Clouds roll fast over the sky, no rain in sight.

Morland leads you out from the village through the gate on the palisade wall. Two guards wearing the Emperors emblems - local thinly manned militia - stand in watch at the gate as you pass. They nod in greeting to Tristan and casually eye the rest of you. One of them calls out to Doherti:

"Good to see you again, guidesman! When you're ready, I'd like to have a second chance in that game of dice!"

The farmer heads east along barely visible representation of a wagon trail. The scenery is wavy grassland with many low hills on the horizon, many of them having remnants of ancient structures. Occasional patches of bush with few trees here and there break the open landscape.

Tristan walks alongside Morland and doesn't speak much. About an half an hour later the farmer turns to the north from the road. You soon arrive to a spot where there are two sacks of turnip roots, one empty, one nearly full, two hoes and a simple wooden rake haphazardly lying on the ground. The ground has been worked on - early summer planting work-in-progress.

Vanderperforms his ritual which takes few minutes. [OOC: Your roll was a success but would you paint us a picture how you perform the actual ritual and what you try to accomplish with this, please?]

The place looks somewhat trampled but Doherti has no issues picking up something that doesn't belong.
This message was last edited by the GM at 23:35, Mon 06 Dec 2021.

In reply to Game Master (msg # 38):

Once at the last spot the boy was in, Vander took out the spoon. He began reciting strange words, and moving the spoon around like he was conducting a band with it. Then he released the item, which floated off by itself. Sigils of light formed around the flying spoon.

Vander spoke the strange words more rapidly.  Soon images of the boy appeared. Like a spectral version of the child, holding the very real spoon. Eating invisible meals with it, using it as a pretend sword, putting it in his pocket. The actions becoming faster and faster.

"By the power of the overworld, you shall bare my Mark!" Vander yelled at the spoon. A mystic symbol of light burned into the item, and then shot away, and then paused, as if waiting to be followed.

"Let's get going!" He said to the others, ready to chase down the flying spoon.

Doherti stiffens for a moment when he hears this, but then ducks his head slightly and keeps moving.


Doherti joins the chase after the floating spoon, and explains his findings as the group moves along.

"I discerned three sets of tracks. One was like a goat's hoof, another like a large paw. The owners were two-legged, and each of the prints is a foot across." He considers what he's just said, and amends: "One of my feet across. The third set appears to belong to the boy, but this indicates that he was not picked up or dragged, and I see no signs of a struggle. Still, I see no reason not to proceed with haste." He continues doing so.

Once there's any sign that the group is close to the boy, Doherti will begin calling his name.

---

That's everything Doherti knows. I'm going to include the GM's exact words in the spoiler block below. Anyway who asks Doherti for more details is welcome to consult that. Apparently, Doherti doesn't know kind of creatures created the tracks.

---

Spoiler text: (Highlight or hover over the text to view)
In addition to human footprints that might be Morland's and Aisaac's there are two sets of unique footprints; one set of a some bipedal creature with goat's hooves and the second, also bipedal, of large paws. Both footprint types are a good 1 feet in diameter. As you start following them they leave towards east and with them a child's footprints, those of Aisaacs. Shouldn't be hard to trace. What ever happened, it looks like the boy walked away with the two other creatures side by side on his own feet. At least there isn't any signs of struggle.

---

[OOC: Let's move on.]

The tracks Doherti found twist and turn, following lower points of the land and through many bushes and tall grass, as well as through large boulders where there's cover from prying eyes. In general the tracks lead towards east. After a while you all see the footprints on a spot with softer, muddy ground; those of massive hoofs, size of a dinner plate, and only slightly smaller paw-prints with long nails. Between them are much shorter steps, footprints of a small humanoid. In most places only Doherti is able to see where the tracks go and follows them without problems.

At one time your party is startled by a large swarm of Zylash, small predatory bipedal dinosaur-analogues only 2-3 feet tall each, running literally through your party when they get startled by you in a ravine.

After 3 or so hours a taller hill with ruins made of cream colored stone on the top becomes visible. There appears to be two rings of crumpling walls, one inside of the other towards the top of the hill where there are remains of a some taller building, perhaps a fortification or a tower base that stands towards the sky like a broken tusk. Both walls have toppled over in many places littering the ground with boulders and blocks. In other places the wall stands nearly 20 feet high.

"That's what we call The Broken Tooth. It's an ancient citadel of ages long gone. An abandoned place for what I know. I hope it has remained so." Tristan says under his breath and wipes sweat from his forehead.

After one more hour the tracks lead you uphill to the central ruins, the Broken Tooth itself. Only outer walls of the building remain, a square made of stone some 50 feet across. Still erect walls are tallest here, up to 40 feet. The inside is in shade. Grass grows here as well as bushes up to 3 feet high. There seems to be clear path through the bushes and rocks, a path well and often used. In the center of the square are remains of a larger camp fire. Next to the fire there are 3 carcasses of prairie wolf, all gutted, torn apart and partially grilled and eaten, now a feast to the swarm of black flies. In the middle of the north wall there's a thicker section of yellowish stone pierced by a triangular dark entrance descending to darkness.

Morlay, who's not spoken a word so far, says with hoarse voice: "That's why we don't come here. By Gods, they've brought my Aisaac here?!"

Jobol followed behind the rest of the group, his short legs and crooked back giving him no need to fake his struggle to keep pace, even with the assistance of his staff. He batted off the Zylash grumpily as they jostled him but kept his silence and maintained it throughout their approach through the ruins. By the time they reached the Broken Tooth, he was sweating and finally spoke. "Don't mind me." he spat "I'll keep up just fine." As he grumbled sourly, he rolled his lumpen shoulder and cracked his neck, stretching out the kinks. "Besides, I'm all warmed up now. Hehe heh." His stench was amplified as he fluttered his robe vigorously to get some air. "Oooh, that's better."

All of a sudden, there was a shift in his stance and his attitude, all pretence of the dirty, uncouth hobo disappearing as Jobol scrutinised the approach to the keep with a professional eye. He glanced over at Lady Magister "With your permission Mistress. I reckon me, Wyrm and Dog-boy there" he nodded at Doherti "go ahead to investigate before you follow on. If there's trouble, we'll send Wyrm flittering back to get you and the Mageling...Oh and Screech. No offence, Missy. Forgot about you for a minute there." He finished with a condescending nod to Logresia. His bad humour and filthy habits might have gone but apparently he still wasn't willing to let go of his ill manner.

He turned to Doherti "What do you say Dog-boy? Think you can keep up without giving up the jig?"
This message was last edited by the player at 17:31, Tue 07 Dec 2021.

"They might have led him here, but he came under his own power, which usually means willingly. It could mean trickery or coercion."

Doherti takes out his hatchet, and readies a light source in preparation for entering the underground. Before entering, he'll call down the tunnel for the boy. He'll also wait for others to prepare to join him.

Doherti gives no indication that he realizes "Dog-boy" refers to him.

Lady Magister gave Jobol a nod and then looked to the small dragon upon her shoulder as he keeps referring it to Wyrm.
"Do you wish to spy ahead with them or stay here? as she asked her question she smiled to it.

It was safe upon her shoulder and didn't have to do much along the way of getting her so it was good to show some sign of concern.

She wondered what kind of spell was placed upon the child to willingly come this far away from home.

Logresia has a little more than an inkling about who or what might want to attract the child to here.  She shrugged and waited for the scouting to be done although she did say, "I'm sure the key is where you left it Jobol but hopefully your mother has tidied up a bit."

The fey-dragon slithers quickly and smoothly under Lady Magister’s armpit, up over her back to her shoulders again and looks intently at Jobol and Doherti, its reptilian eyes glimmering with intelligence. It makes no effort to move from its comfortable spot.

Doherti, when you go closer to the dungeon entrance and look what’s there, you can see worn stone stairs made of solid blocks leading straight down some 30 feet towards north, where it seems to open to a larger chamber with some rubble and small bouders on the floor. It's pitch black down there.

Doherti raises his torch to pierce the darkness a bit. "Aisaac!" he calls.

When he can he conveys his findings to the others, including the fact that the passage appears to have been traveled recently. Something large, with small gray scales, must have brushed against the walls.

"The boy's trail is obscured, but it also doesn't lead anywhere else." He hefts his hatchet. "Arm or prepare yourselves for close-quarters if you're going in. I'll lead the way."

Only echo replies to your calls. Doesn't seem to stir up anything else either.

"Well", said Logresia, "I suppose they're aware of our presence, if this isn't just a passage to somewhere else.  This might work.  Close your eyes and cover your ears everybody."

Lady Magister was a bit shocked to hear Doheti calling out the boys name into the darkness.  Not knowing what or who might be waiting for them it was the dangerous action and it now might of cost someone their lives.

So far everyone been trying to be stealthy and even her minion was suggesting the same thing, stealth.

She looked over at Jobol and shook her had "Aren't you glad you didn't go in there with him alone now. her words were not soft and surely anyone near could of heard her words.

"Are we going in there?" asked Logresia.  "I only ask because if we've lost the element of surprise due to our epic stealthiness, then we might as well try the opposite.  I find a good screech before walking into an obvious ambush can work wonders."  She grinned and drew from her pack something black and round with a fuse sticking out and the word 'bomb' printed on it.  "Don't you agree young man?" she winked at Jobol.

In reply to Logresia Skrieven (msg # 51):

"I'm going in as soon as those joining me are ready. I doubt there's an ambush waiting for us, but if it reassures anyone I'll go first."

---

Actions: None at present, intending to lead the group down.
Status:
Afternoon?
Doherti armed with axe, holding torch, at mouth of entrance.
Logresia, Magister, and Jobol nearby.
Others?

Lady Magister moved closer to Logresia and whispered into her hear.

Then she smiled as she looked over to Jobol "No need for your plan, unless your wanting and able to get in there alone.  Without them seeing you. she said as she looked over at Doherti with a sad expression upon her face.

"Someone please make sure that we execute our plans better.  This is how heroes die.

Jobol stood and stared, incredulous, as Doherti yelled into the darkness. His mouth agape, he looked to the others to confirm that they'd seen and heard the same thing he had. His Mistress and Logresia confirmed it and it seemed to release a valve in Jobol as he actually began to hop from foot to foot, literally hopping mad and sputtering at Doherti. "Damn and blast, Diabolists tits! Ye damned fool! By The Three, what d'you think ye're doing yelling and hollering like that? I know I called ye Dog but that don't mean ye go yapping like a wet-behind the ear pup after whatever it is ye're looking for."

He stopped hopping and pointed his staff at the Ranger. "How about this? You. Shut yer mouth and sit in back fer a while like a good Dog. Ye've a good nose for following a trail, damned if I know where ye learned that without the sense of a half-dead goblin-rat twixt yer ears, but ye've a bit to learn about...let's say, not getting yerself and anyone standing in yer vicinity killed." Jobol pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath.

"Look, let me explain it simply, ye said it yerself that we're following some giant goat-hooved monster as much as the boy. Are you expecting to be invited to tea? I mean, by the Archmages rigid staff, it'd be nice but kidnappers are not, in my experience and generally speaking, nice, inviting people." he said with an exasperated sigh.

Done with Doherti and having vented his irritation, he turned to Lady Magister and bowed. "I could still explore ahead, my Mistress, if you desire it." his voice was calm, if resigned. "But as the minstrel said, the element of surprise is lost. Little to be gained and much to be lost by a quiet approach now."

Lady Magister watched as Jobol tore into Doherti for his foolish action, not once did she correct her minion but allowed him to speak his mind.  She would of done something a bit more dramatic but thought it best to contain herself and let her ire fall upon those that took the people of this small village.

When Jobol came and spoke to her she smiled to him hoping that would contain his anger for later. "No no no.  I wouldn't wish that upon no one.  You mean more to me alive than dead. she then looked to Doherti "He has agreed to lead. Allow him that honor.

This was the second time that Doherti has done something that made the hairs on the back of her neck rise.  What kind of adventure was he, surely he is showing signs of inexperience.

Logresia prepared to move along after Doherti when the time came to enter the cavern.  She held the firework in her left hand and her mace in her right.  "Are we ready Lady Magister?  Gentlemen? Jobol?" she asked.

At no point does Doherti look at the people berating him. Instead, he takes a breath, rolls his eyes, and proceeds into the tunnel torch held ahead of him, axe ready to be thrown or swung.

Logresia follows behind Doherti and despite the firework readied for action, she moves as stealthily as she can.  Hoping against hope that she gets to regain the element of surprise when they ambush comes.

"What's that? some form of wizardry?" Tristan queries narrowing his eyes at the item Logresia presents them.

"If my boy's there, I'm coming with you, no matter what's waiting us down there." Morland says with hoarse voice and stares the dark entrance. He's a pathetic sight in his scruffy clothes, having no armor or proper gear whatsoever other than a water gourd hanging on a string from his shoulders, and a simple hoe which he picked to serve as an impromptu weapon. His agony over his son's fate is palpable.

Tristan touches the farmer's shoulder. "Also Semiel, always smiling Leviel and the gnome Vavrus among the others. If Aisaac was led down there, changes are the others are there as well. We've come this far, so we are certainly not stopping now." Tristan draws his heavy sword.

"Lead the way, half-elf. Your eyes are better than mine. We'll be right behind you."

+++

You descend into the darkness. Doherti's torch reveals the chamber the stairs lead to. You arrive from the center of the south wall to a square room 50' wide from east to west and maybe 30' deep from south to north. The ceiling has collapsed at the NE corner, forming a pile of loose earth, rocks and rubble into that corner. A mural depicting a great battlefield scene including chariots has survived in parts of the northern wall. There are two other exits from the room; one in the middle of the east wall and the other opposite to it on the west wall. Both of them are closed by wooden doors. The doors are made of heavy planks of dark gray, almost black wood and somehow show little of wear of time. The air is much cooler than outside, but not damp here, perhaps because of the exit to the open air.

There dirt and rubble on the foor and it's plain to all see that there's a clear path leading from the stairs towards the eastern door. A similar path crosses the room from the west door to the east door. Somebody has carved a glyph, which looks like an slitted eye, on the eastern door with a sharp object. No sign of ambush, you don't hear other sounds than what your own careful movements cause.

"I didn't expect this to be build further. Which way should we go?" Tristan whispers.

Doherti moves toward the door into which Aisaac's tracks lead, but he does not open it yet. This gives the others time to decide where they want to go or what they want to do, but Doherti is clearly eager to keep moving.

In reply to Lady Magister (msg # 55):

You watch the others descent into darkness. It's about midday now, you estimate. Your familiar moves from one shoulder to another and speaks in your mind:

They're inexperienced. Jobol will have his hands full with them. This place reeks danger - What' were doing here anyway? You said we'd go to Proudfort?

Lady Magister had no interested in dying today, she allowed the two to lead the way then she wondered if Vander would follow next.  As she was standing there and watched the two humans from the village go in she then could feel someone moving along her shoulder.

"Soon we will go there, we are just helping these humans out first.  That is if we survive. she said to her little friend on her shoulder.

Then she looked to Jobol "We would have the best eyesight down there. Shall we join our wonderful adventures. she smiled as she started walking toward the darkness.  "If they happen to be dead we will turn quickly.

Logresia nods to Doherti and waits for him to open the door but first she points to the glyph and raises an eyebrow questioningly.

Doherti shrugs to indicate that he doesn't know what to make of the symbol.

---

Who is in this chamber at present?

Jobol waited for Lady Magister, happy to watch the others descend into the darkness before them. He had his suspicions what they'd find below and even his withered and rotten heart felt a pang of sympathy for the farmer at the thought of what he might find of his son. After all, Jobol was raised in such darkness as lay before them and knew the horrors that lay below. Had suffered no few of them himself.

The expression of comfortable confidence adorning his trollish features was hidden by his hood, but the resolved nod at Lady Magisters query was not. "At your command, my Mistress. Proceed with caution, eyes wide and listen out. Moments may matter." As he followed behind her, Jobol secured the hanging tokens and fetishes on his staff, ceasing the incessant clatter of bone and wood that typically preceeded him.

The western door abruptly opens with a loud creak and figures with humanoid's body, lizard's tail and crocodile-like head on a thick neck pour into the room. They're lean, athletic and tall, 6-7' tall each of them. They wear leather loincloths and trinkets made of small animal bones. The first ones coming through the door let out exited thrills as they lift their primitive clubs and charge in while some of them are still behind them in the darkness.

"Itrewic astahi!" something commands behind them with a hissing voice. You recognize the language to be some dialect of Draconic and understand it enough to get the general idea; it translates to "Get/stop them!"

Tristan curses and pushes Morland behind him putting himself between the creatures and the farmer and lifts his sword at the ready. Morland cowers in fear.

OOC: Let's roll initiative everyone!
Doherti, Logresia, Tristan and Morlay are in the chamber, of those Tristan is closest to the monsters, then Morlay, Logresia and Doherti are at the eastern door. Lady Magister, Jobol and Vander are in the stairs coming down to the chamber. All characters are Nearby (One Move action away). Intercepting is possible. At this point it looks like the creatures are charging Tristan and the folks at the eastern door. Fleeing is also possible, but I would like that to be the party consensus, which can be discussed OOC so that nobody is left in the trouble alone.

The creatures armed with the clubs are Mooks and there are 5 of them charging in. They go down faster than normal monsters and if damage done to them exceeds their Hit Point total the remaining damage spills over to the next Mook. For example 8 points of damage would kill one Mook with 6 Hit points, and 2 remaining points of damage would be added to the next Mook.

The Enemy initiative is: 14
The Mooks have AC:17 PD:16 MD:12 HP:6 each.

Logresia lifts her mace as if conducting a band of musicians and then, as if reaching a crescendo, points toward the band of mooks at the door.

OOC casts Soundburst
16:44, Today: Logresia Skrieven rolled 24 using 1d20+4.  Charisma + level versus Mooks' PD.
(PD=16)
16:46, Today: Logresia Skrieven rolled 3 using 1d4.  Number of Mooks initially affected.
16:47, Today: Logresia Skrieven rolled 14 using 5d6.  Damage to each mook.
14 thunder damage to three mooks the remainder after they are destroyed passing on to the next

Thunder roars from her mace in a sound almost too loud to be sound, more like pure destruction.

In reply to Logresia Skrieven (msg # 67):

Thunder blasts throught the room making EVERYBODY'S ears ring. Ground shakes, sand and small rubble falls from the ceiling. The three first lizardfolks stumble and fall on their faces and start twitching. Two behind them drop their clubs, raise their hands/claws at the sides of their head, drop first to their knees and then prone. They stop moving.

If your ears would not ring that bad, you'd appreciate a sudden silence filling the room. The door where the lizardfolk came, is still open, barely visible in the torchlight.

"Lowd astahi!" (attack them!) a command is growled from the darkness beyond the open door, but nothing comes out yet...

"Well, that was amazing but I thing everything in this sh*thole now knows we are here..." Tristan says and braces for possible next charge.

OOC: all visible enemies are dead. There's something in the dark corridor beyond the door. Those not yet acted have remaining of you side Turn to act/prepare.

Lady Magister takes hold of the side wall as she felt the thunder moving the ground and the building shaking.  Wondering if it was going to collapse or did it have enough strength to stand tall.

Looking to Jobol "Guess you might want to watch what you say to the Mistral. giving him a giggle as she moved into the chamber and looking at the dead bodies on the ground.  Hearing a voice in the darkness she allowed her eyes to peer into there to see what or who was speaking.

Bringing up the rear, Jobol leaned hard on his staff as Logresia's cacophony shook the foundations. He raised an eyebrow, wry amusement crossing his face, perhaps even a little respect for the bard. "Noisy. But efficient." he conceded. The next time anyone looked...he was simply gone.

20:26, Today: Jobol Harguld rolled 22 using 1d20+4.  Shadow Walk.

Doherti moves over to the open door, taking cover to one side of it. He looks within and if he has a clear target he throws his hatchet at it.

---

Move: Move up to side of open door.
Standard: Attack target inside:
14:12, Today: Doherti rolled 16 using 1d20+4.  Ranged basic attack (hand axe).

With Doherti moves the party's light source. While Lady Magister would see this without it, following is revealed to all of you:

Beyond the now open door is a passage about 10' wide and it extends 30' towards west. At this (east) end of the passage you can see four more dead lizardfolk fallen on the floor. Apparently these were also killed by Logresia's loud spell.

At the west end of the corridor there are four living individuals of the same; each of them carrying a flint tipped spear in addition to the club. These wear more decorations and trinkets and their scales, teeth and black claws are bigger than those of just killed. They hiss hatred at you, black forked tongues licking the air. Behind them you can see a similar wooden door, currently open and opening from the passage to another chamber that way.

Doherti's hatches flies towards their leader, a 7' tall thing, who partially parries it with its spear and the hatched clangs on the passage wall. This individual has one milky eye, carries a bundle of rope over it's shoulder and across its chest, and has a septum piercing made with a bone stick.

The creatures measure you with their reptilian eyes, which reflect back the torch light. All four throw their spears in unison towards Logresia who killed most of their kind. Two of the spears strike their mark, on the bards right shoulder and left upper thigh.

Today: Game Master rolled 44 using 4d20+6 with rolls of 15,16,4,3. Logresia, you take 10 damage total from the 2 spears.

After hurling their spears three of them backpedal, turn and move out through the western door to the dark chamber there. The milky-eyed one hesitates, then also turns and exits. The door they exited through is slammed shut!

Round 2 - The Party's Turn. We're still in the battle mode at least for the next turn whether you give a chase or not. Currently there are no visible enemies.

The Lizardman Savages have AC:17 PD:16 MD:12.
A (Leader) - HP:32/31
B - HP:32/32
C - HP:32/32
D - HP:32/32
This message was last edited by the GM at 23:01, Sun 12 Dec 2021.

Emerging from the flickering shadows of Doherti's torchlight at the eastern end of the corridor, though quite how he got there is anyones guess, Jobol slammed his staff on the stone flagstones in frustration. "Diabolists horns, too slow" he berated himself.

The diminutive hunchback inspected the corpse of one of Logresia's victims, giving it a solid 'nudge' with a booted kick. "Urgh. Lizards. Always leaving their sheds everywhere and all that hissing is enough to drive a body mad." He looked for Lady Magister and caught her eye. "Looks to be a small tribe, Mistress. We'd best hurry after them before they can arrange any surprises for us."

OOC: What do I know about Lizardfolk, or these particular Lizardfolk, that might help us out GM? Either with my Dungeon Architect Background or invoking my Icon relationship with The Three.
This message was last edited by the player at 00:23, Sun 12 Dec 2021.

Thorgrim has been walking around these stupid passages for some time, hoping to find a decent fight but so far been frustrated. When he hears battlecry, he is accordingly cheered. Throwing himself into motion, his stubby legs driving him forward in a clatter of armour, he explodes out of a doorway, his axe and shield at the ready.

"AAAAHHHHH! Khazak g'drukh hakkan draaaaaaaah!" he bellows the ancient Dwarfen battlecry which means, politely translated, the taller they stand the harder they fall.

He pauses at the sight of the mismatched party.

"... wait, hang on," he says. "Excuse me, but are you evil-doers of some sort? I need to know whether I should righteously smite you or not, see."
This message was last edited by the player at 08:08, Sun 12 Dec 2021.

"Greetings", said Logresia.  "I am called Logresia.  I do not consider myself an evildoer but music critics and the Lizardfolk I just killed may disagree.  I have come with these gentlemen to try to recover their missing children."

She does not look at Thorgrim as he speaks but continues to look toward the slammed door, wondering whether anyone has the skills to open it or to destroy it.  Either way, she holds her mace ready to parry anything used against her.

OOC: Lizardfolk tend to favor humid climates. They dwell in warm or temperate marshes, swamps, and jungles, or more rarely in flooded cavern systems. Climate here is temperate. The ruins both outside and based on this first chamber are more on dry side. Baffling.

Edit: I used your Monster Wrangler background, since your question is about lizardfolk and they aren't natural dungeon creatures per se.
This message was last edited by the GM at 17:29, Sun 12 Dec 2021.

"I'm Thorgrim," says Thorgrim. "So these lizardfolk's been kidnapping kiddies, have they? Har, that's excellent news! That's evil-doing if anything is, so that means I can smite them!"

He scowls at the ones on the floor.

"Except it looks like you smote these ones good and proper already," he says. "What say you we go find some fresh ones?"

"Good day to you, Master Dwarf. I'm Tristan Wheeler, and this scared fellow here is Morland. We're searching his son and other missing villagers. This band of travellers, ahem, travelling adventurers, they're kind enough to help us with this endeavor. The tracks brought us here. The half-elf knows his business." The old warrior nods at Doherti.

Doherti returns from grabbing his ax and checking the door that had been slammed. "Hello," he says to the dwarf. "I'm Doherti. Do you know this underground? Is there route that can get us behind that door? If not, we need to get it open, with a quickness."

In reply to Doherti (msg # 79):

As you check the door there is a keyhole and so perhaps a lock as well, but it looks so rusted and filled with grime and dust that it's likely nonfunctional. You think it could be opened simply by pushing it open again. You don't hear any sounds coming from the other side of it.

"The door may just open. If we are ready, I'll give it a try. But let's hurry. I don't know why anyone might have gone willingly with these folk. But these warriors also aren't the owners of the tracks we followed."

Thorgrim pushes up his helmet to scratch his head.

"I don't know my way around as such," he says. "Mostly I've just wandered around and trying to find something to fight, but without any luck so far. There are some doors in the room I came for that we can try, I suppose. Maybe Marthohtar has seen something..." He looks behind him. "Marthohtar! Hurry up, lad! We have kidnappers to catch!"

Footsteps echo in the hallway Thorgrim came from.  "You found them!?" says a voice that sounds young, but creaks like a tree in the wind.  A tall figure in plate armor, bearing sword and shield, bursts from the doorway, joining the dwarf.  Elven features and greenish skin show through the gaps in the newcomer's helmet.

"Oh."  He says, stopping and looking around confusedly.  Thorgrim is clearly not in battle, so he assumes the room is safe, and these are not enemies.  "I didn't see anything special."

Lady Magister got Jobol's attention and called him over closer to her she then leaned down closer but holding her breath and whispered into his ear " then she stood up quickly and took a deep breath when she was a step away from Jobol.

Her eyes moved to the Dwarf that came running in and asking such a nonsense question.  But most beings would claim that her race was evil. It all brought a smile to her face as she listened to the two quickly make conversations with him.

Then her eyes started at the figure moving behind the Drwarf.  An Elven warrior...

Jobol nodded at Lady Magisters whispered advice and was about to proceed when Thorgim burst into the room. He was rolling his eyes at the dwarf blathering about "evil-doers" and fool quests just looking for a fight when the elven giant entered the room. He quickly dropped whatever scathing epithet he was going to unleash and looked to his mistress, caution writ clear on his expression. He carefully skulked back into the gloom, staying as inconspicuous as he could while circling around to get behind the steel-clad elf, nary taking his eyes off Lady Magisters reaction. His hand subtly strayed toward the hilt of one of his many knives and watched for the inevitable pin to drop; between the boisterous dwarf and this "fine" example of elven masculinity and no doubt "honour" (he spat the thought in his mind), this could all go to Styx quick as a blink. But not if he had anything to do with it.

"Are those Lizardfolk who we were following, Doherti?" asks Logresia.  "Or are we looking for someone or something else?" She doesn't see well in the darkness so she relies on her other senses, smell, the feel of movements of air and of course, sound.

Doherti gives the door a slight push and it swings open again with a nerving creak. Behind it opens a much larger chamber, so large your torch can't illuminate all of it. The passage where you stand enters the room near its NE corner. You can see the left hand wall go straight south and can barely make out south wall maybe 50' away. On the right hand side, at the north wall there are two exits towards north; one close to this doorway at the NE corner and the second one further away at the west, probably close to NW corner. Both are closed by the similar wooden door you've opened.

From the ceiling, about 15' high, there's a complex mechanism of multiple pulleys and gears. Several rusted heavy metal chains hang loosely from the ceiling, some of them ending to a hook, and all end at about a persons height from the floor. Near the center of the room, or away from the walls, there are many desks and workbenches, some collapsed or tipped over, with multitude of jars, kettles, pots, glass and metal tubes, piping, and tools like spatulas, tongs and scoops. Some of them on the desks and workbenches, some scattered on the floor.

There's a metallic odor lingering here. The floor is littered with stuff and shrapnel of pottery etc. and there's been a lot of movement disturbing it but no clear path or tracks anywhere. It looks like somebody's been through scavenging the area recently.

No sight of the lizardfolk, the room is eerily silent.

We're out of combat now.

15:25, Today: Logresia Skrieven rolled 7 using 1d8+2.  Recovery one.

Logresia recovers from most but not all of her wounds.

"I don't know what kinds of creatures we were following," Doherti says in response to Logresia.

Hefting his hatchet, Doherti moves along the path it looks like the child took. If he can't follow that path, he follows the path the fleeing creatures took. If he can't follow that path, he moves to the nearest door and tries it carefully.

In reply to Doherti (msg # 89):

There are no tracks to follow in the room. Doherti opens the closest door to him at the NE corner, which opens easily enough revealing a passage to north. At the other end of this passage, maybe 50' away and barely visible to the half-elf at the limits of his light source range, he sees one Lizardfolk Savage look back at him just before it closes the door behind them.

OOC: As far as I know, Doherti is moving away from the 1st chamber carrying the party's only light source.

"Are they gone? Is it clear?" Vander cautiously peeks from the stairs where he was hiding during the skirmish.

He waves at Thorgrim and Marthohtar. "Vander Hickerlooper the Third, at your service." He snaps his fingers and a magical white light with a tint of blue, not quite as bright as a torch, starts to glow from his finger tip.

"Are those lizard-people? I'm not sure I can stomach the beasts lurking here. I'm not fond of... dark and cramped places."

Doherti moves back to the others. "Yes, more like these," he says, nudging a dead body with his foot. "They've fled further in. I don't have a trace of the boy or the others right now. I would suggest that they can be found wherever our attackers are going. That is the way I will go. Haste is still called for. Who is with me?"

Marthohtar looks at Doherty.  "I think we have the same goal.  Finding missing villagers?   Let's go together, then."

He grins down at his dwarven friend.  "You wanted a fight, I think these people have the knack of finding them!"

He strides off after Doherti, saying over his shoulder, "If there is darkness, we will bring the Light to shine through it, eh, Mr. Hickerlooper?"
This message was lightly edited by the player at 06:12, Wed 15 Dec 2021.

"Pah, you surface dwellers are spoiled with all this free sunlight and fresh air!" Thorgrim says. "Down underground, we have as much space as we can carve out with a pickaxe and as much light as we have tallow to burn, and that's just how we like it! But yes, let's not waste time! Those slippery kidnappers need to be introduced to my axe!"

He strides after Doherti.

Logresia moves surprisingly quietly as she joins the column, pausing to wink at Jobol and Lady Magister before she does so.

Tristan and Morland nod solemnly and both join the column, as do pale-faced Vander providing light to the rear end of the group with his spell.

The northbound passage leads into a round room with dome ceiling 50' in diameter. The walls here have the same paint shades and mural as the 1st chamber. You come from the south and there is two other doors in the cardinal directions, one towards north and another towards east. There's a flipped over and broken desk and a tipped over chair close to the west wall, other than that the chamber is empty.

Compared to the other chambers so far this is far cleaner. There only slight layer of dust on the floor but that's enough for Doherti to see with his experience in tracking that there's been lots of traffic between the northern and the eastern door. The fresh tracks, however, made only moments ago by those four lizardfolk passing through go from the south door to the east door.

When approaching this door, all of you hear muffled speech in Draconic dialect: "Kepla'nas ekess slathalin. Astahii re confnir vur yth nishka ygish astahi." Details of what is said are lost to you, but you get the odd words; coming, prepare, fight.

You open the east door and it comes from the center of the west wall to a large square room. Thick odor of smoke and punchy stench of the lizardfolk attacks your nostrils.

The room is dimly lit by small fires burning in the fireplaces at the NW and SW corners. A long and wide desk is standing next to the east wall and the ends of it in the NE and SE corners are closed doors exiting out of the room. There a "nest-like" structure in the middle of the room, made from junk of all sorts including leathers, clothes, wooden and bone material scavenged from somewhere.

Five tall lizardfolk savages including the Milky-Eyed one stand in front of the nest structure in loose formation waiting for you, their arms ready to throw spears at the first person to enter. No other creatures or individuals are visible.

---

Spoiler text: (Highlight or hover over the text to view)
OOC: Your party has the Initiative, the Savages are Delaying. Round 1 / Party's Turn -Escalation Die +0

The Lizardman Savages have AC:17 PD:16 MD:12.
A - HP:32/31 (The Milky-Eye)
B - HP:32/32
C - HP:32/32
D - HP:32/32
E - HP:32/32

---

Logresia ends her silence as she sheathes her face and begins banging her slightly bent open right hand against the well of her shoulder just above her left breast where they form a slight hollow that emphasises the noise, Ah-ONE TWO and-THREE and-FOUR and-ONE TWO and-THREE and FOUR.  Slowly she replaces the drumming on her chest with strumming on her Oudh as she begins to sing the Song of Heroes.

+1 to each ally's attack once per round

"In bars and taverns the song
Begins. Calls to arms are heard.
Mothers find children are gone
Fathers scream without a word.

Heroes are called
Heroes are called
We answer that call
Sword strikes sword
Sword strike sword
We smite the horde."

Standing back would I be able to see any of the Lizardmen?  Without being close, avoiding being a target, seeing we know they throw spears at people.

Thorgrim charges boldly forth at the nearest lizardman, driving it back with a flurry of blows from his axe but being unable to land a decisive strike.

05:07, Today: Thorgrim Stonefriend rolled 10 using 1d20+4.  Attack.

Miss. Let's say it was against B. It takes 1 HP of damage.

Seeing the readied spears, Doherti takes cover by the side of the door, throws his hatchet at one of the creatures, and then tosses in the torch and sets about stringing his bow.

---

Standard: 20:09, Today: Doherti rolled 25 using 1d20+5.  Ranged basic attack +5 (with bonus) vs. Lizardman B. Critical hit.
20:14, Today: Doherti rolled 12 using 2d6+3.  Critical damage to B, 2d6+3. (Not sure if the static bonus is also doubled).

Status:
To side of door, outside eastern room.
Torch is just inside room.
Stringing bow (hoping to use it next turn).

Marthohtar moves forward, following Thorgrim into the fray.  As he goes, he draws his blade, and raises it for moment, saying, "Oh lord, watch over us, guide our hands to strike true as we slay these savage beasts!"  Light seems to collect around the elf, and beams shine from him onto his companions for a moment; and their weapons seem surer in their hands, violence coming more easily.

Then he takes another few steps forward, covering the dwarf's flank, and he slashes down with his blade at the creatures' apparent leader, cutting deeply into the lizardman's shoulder.


Bless to give +1 to hit for the rest of the battle, activating Community domain so it affects 5 people - everyone but Logresia gets the +1 (sorry, had to pick someone to leave out and she seems to need it the least)

21:47, Today: Marthohtar Oakheart rolled 25 using 1d20+8.  attack on Lizard A.

21:47, Today: Marthohtar Oakheart rolled 9 using 1d8+5.  Damage on Lizard A.


This message was last edited by the player at 04:52, Fri 17 Dec 2021.

Skulking at the back of the group, Jobol followed behind muttering to himself about the righteousness of "fair folk" and "upright citizens". All this enthusiasm for seeking out violence and inflicting it in the name of lords and light was grating on his morally diseased nerves. Quietly cursing the ground upon which they walked, Jobol entertained himself looking for weak points in his companions armour, then cursing himself for finding so few. At the sight of the same group of lizardfolk, all thoughts of backstabbing and self-deprecation were cast aside, even if he did squint irritably at the Elf-lords blessing of light and frown at the racket Logresia was making. The last Lady Magister heard was an evil little chuckle from behind her "I'll be right back Mistress. He'll not get away again..." His voice faded away as he stepped once more into the shadows.

OOC:
Action: Shadow Walk - Jobol removed from play
13:09, Today: Jobol Harguld rolled 25 using 1d20+6.  Shadow Walk vs. MD:12

Bonuses/Ongoing Effects:
- Bless (Marthotar) +1 to attack rolls
- Song of Heroes(?) (Logresia) +1 to attack roll

OOC my mistake, the song gives us all +1 to our attack rolls until my next turn

In reply to Lady Magister (msg # 98):

Yes you can see them and can act accordingly. The Savages will throw their spears at Thorgrim since he was the first boldly storming in. I'll wait a little bit so you don't lose your turn. So blast away!
This message was last edited by the GM at 16:58, Thu 16 Dec 2021.

There was a lot of moving and she was a bit shocked at how some rushed in when they saw that the Lizardmen was holding spears to throw.

From a safe spot she was going to let a spell fly at one of them and hoped that it chained its way over to a next Lizardman.

Casting Lightning Fork
12:23, Today: Lady Magister rolled 24 using 1d20+5. (Fear re-roll)

12:23, Today: Lady Magister rolled 10 using 1d20+5.  Lightening Fork.

12:24, Today: Lady Magister rolled 15 using 3d6+5.  Dmg.

Attacking D
This message was last edited by the player at 17:26, Thu 16 Dec 2021.

"For my people! For Thistleby!" Tristan yells and charges one of the bestial men. The savage swiftly dodges and the old man's sword strike misses by inches.

Morland carefully moves into the room staying near the walls and shouts: "Aisaac!? Aisaac, are you here?"

Vander mutters arcane words and points one hand upwards and another towards the enemies. His incantation ends to a snappy shout, and a Ray of Frost shoots from his pointed hand. It just misses one of the enemies and impacts the back wall forming a white circle of ice onto the stone there. The wizard moves out of sight, back against the wall, opposite to Doherti on the other side of the door. "Phew! My master says I should challenge myself by moving out of my comfort zone. I think I'm about there now. Please hurry up, half-elf!"

+++

The enemy turn:

The lizardfolk let out highpitched thrills and hurl their spears in unison against Thorgrim as the dwarf charges in. Three of the flint-tipped spears bounce off from the dwarf's shield and armor, but two weapons find their way through Thorgrim's chainmail.

The lizardmen thrill and hiss and reach for their primitive clubs. A chaotic melee starts.

+++

Round 2 / Party's Turn

The Lizardman Savages have AC:17 PD:16 MD:12.
A - HP:32/21 (The Milky-Eye) - Engaged with Marthohtar
B – HP:32/7 - Engaged with Thorgrim, Staggered
C - HP:32/32
D - HP:32/17- Engaged with Tristan
E – HP:32/32

All enemies are Nearby.

Bonuses/Ongoing Effects:
- Escalation Die +1 to your attacks
- Bless (Marthotar) +1 to attack rolls to hit for all but Logresia for the rest of the battle
- Song of Heroes (Logresia) +1 to attack roll until her next turn
This message was last edited by the GM at 16:53, Sat 18 Dec 2021.

"Ow! Bugger! I'll get you for that!" Thorgrim bellows and renews his attack against the slippery opponent, who unfortunately proves apt at parrying.

At it again! Since B is only engaged with me, I get +1 from Fearless.

07:38, Today: Thorgrim Stonefriend rolled 12 using 1d20+5.  Attack.

I am not having a good day. :p 1 more HP damage to B.

(After clarifying with the referee, I can make an attack this round.)

Doherti tries to pin down the two warriors who aren't busy fighting his allies. Neither shot makes contact, but one of them only just makes it out of the way. Lucky.

---

Standard action: Double ranged attack.
23:15, Today: Doherti rolled 8 using 1d20+6.  First attack +6 vs. AC 17 of Lizardman C. Miss
Even roll = 23:17, Today: Doherti rolled 23 using 1d20+6.  Second attack +6 vs. AC 17 of Lizardman E. Hit.
23:17, Today: Doherti rolled 5 using 1d6+3.  Damage, 1d6+3. Lizardman E takes 5 damage.

Doherti in cover just outside of room, armed with bow.
Torch inside room on ground.

From her safe distance Lady Magister points her finger at one of the Lizardmen that looks badly wounded and hopes its enough to stop it from attacking again.

Casting Magic Missile at B
16:30, Today: Lady Magister rolled 4 using 2d4.  B.

Logresia continues singing a further verse of the interminable song of the heroes, maintaining the +1 to attack rolls it brings her allies for another round.

Marthohtar stays in the middle of the melee, continuing his attacks against the milk-eyed lizardman, and again his blade hits home.


01:58, Today: Marthohtar Oakheart rolled 24 using 1d20+8.  attack on Lizard A.

01:58, Today: Marthohtar Oakheart rolled 10 using 1d8+5.  Damage on Lizard A.

Remerging from the shadows like mist, Jobol was wielding a vicious looking iron shiv. Appearing near the savage engaged with Tristan, he managed only to slash ineffectively at their armour before slinking away, ducking and weaving to get out of harms way, positioning himself between Lady Magister and the melee.

OOC:
Re-appear engaging Savage D
Standard Action: Tumbling Strike - MISS - 1(lvl) x2(Shadow Walk) = 2 damage
09:11, Sat 18 Dec: Jobol Harguld rolled 8 using 1d20+5.  Tumbling Strike vs. Savage D.

09:18, Sat 18 Dec: Jobol Harguld rolled 15 using 1d20+5.  Disengage.

Tristan brings his heavy sword around for another strike against his opponent, the blade cutting deep into its side. "Be cursed, you stinking half-animal! What have you done to my friends?!" The old warrior swears at his now reeling opponent.

"Aisaac? Aisaac?!" Morland continues to ask for his son. There's no reply.

Vander closes his eyes while his hands begin to move ever faster in complex gestures. Lights of different colors start to dance around his moving hands and the wizard steps into the doorframe and shoots a spell into the room. A yellow and a green beam of arcane energy shoot out from his pointed hands and hit two separate targets simultaneously making them shake their heads in agony. Both screech.

(Color Spray, vs A & E, both hit for 7 dmg. A is Weakened until end of Vandren's next turn.)

+++

The enemy turn:

The Milky-Eyed lizardman, bleeding profusely and struggling to remain standing, gauges Marthohtar with its one good eye. Its lips curl upwards revealing rows of sharp teeth and it lunges forward into one more desperate strike. Its club hits against the elf's helmet with a loud clang.

Game Master rolled 18 using 1d20+3 ((15)). A hit, 7 dmg total to Marthohtar.

A second lizardman (C) groups up against Thorgrim. Both lizardfolk swing their clubs but the their strikes are deflected by the dwarf's armor and shield.

Game Master rolled 11,16 using 1d20+7,1d20+7.  attacks vs Thorgrim

Tristan is engaged by a second foe as well. The two lizardmen attack him simultaneously forcing the village elder backpedal towards the door you entered the room. One attack connects to the old man's shoulder, the force of the blow sending the old man stumbling.

Game Master rolled 20,14 using 1d20+7,1d20+7.  attacks vs Tristan

+++

OOC: Round 3 / Party's Turn

The Lizardman Savages have AC:17 PD:16 MD:12.
A - HP:32/5 (The Milky-Eye) - Engaged with Marthohtar, Staggered & Weakened; has –4 penalty to attacks and to defenses
B – HP:32/2 - Engaged with Thorgrim, Staggered
C - HP:32/32 - Engaged with Thorgrim
D - HP:32/9 - Engaged with Tristan, Staggered
E – HP:32/20 - Engaged with Tristan

Bonuses/Ongoing Effects:
- Escalation Die +2 to your attacks.
- Bless (Marthotar) +1 to attack rolls to hit for all but Logresia for the rest of the battle
- Song of Heroes (Logresia) +1 to attack roll until her next turn
This message was last edited by the GM at 11:11, Tue 21 Dec 2021.

With a bellow of satisfaction, Thorgrim lops the head off of the injured lizardman and turns to the new arrival with a cocky grin beneath his beard.

Attack against B.

13:06, Today: Thorgrim Stonefriend rolled 25 using 1d20+7.  Attack.
13:06, Today: Thorgrim Stonefriend rolled 5 using 1d8+2.  Damage.

Seeing Tristan take a hit from one of the savages and beginning to be surrounded, Jobol shot a swift glance at his Mistress and dashed forward once again into the fray. A swift slash from the crude knife in his hands opened up the lizardfolks' belly, but the hunchback was rolling away and back in his position in front of Lady Magister in the blink of an eye. He flicked blood from the blade and it disappeared somewhere on his malformed person.

OOC:
Move Action: To Engage Savage D

Standard Action: Tumbling Strike
12:12, Today: Jobol Harguld rolled 27 using 1d20+7.  Tumbling Strike vs. Savage D.
12:15, Today: Jobol Harguld rolled 18 using 2d8+2d4+4.  Damage (Crit + Sneak Attack).

Quick Action: Disengage (Tumbling Strike) and move back to position between Lady Magister and the melee
12:15, Today: Jobol Harguld rolled 19 using 1d20+5.  Disengage.

Active Effects:
Momentum

Logresia sings the very last verse of her song, benefitting Tristan in particular and then she draws charges into the fray, swinging her mace at the newcomer fighting Tristan.

+2 to Tristan's next attack
Logresia engages with Lizardman E but her attack is perhaps somewhat futile.
12:27, Today: Logresia Skrieven rolled 6 using 1d20+4.  Attack Lizardman.

Lady Magister gave her little minion a soft smile as she watched him move ever so quickly and deadly upon the Lizardman.  Taking notice of the ones that were weak and damaged she points her finger at the milky-eyed one and let missiles blast into its hide.  Hoping to do a bit more damage than last time.

20:10, Today: Lady Magister rolled 4 using 2d4.  A - Magic Missiles.

Marthohtar shakes off the injury inflicted by the milky-eyed lizardman, as the bolts of magic slam into it and finish it off.  He lunges again, and slams his blade into one of the lizardmen attacking the old man.


20:38, Today: Marthohtar Oakheart rolled 15 using 1d20+7.  Attack on Lizard E.

(Hits with the +2 from escalation)

20:41, Today: Marthohtar Oakheart rolled 11 using 1d8+5.  Damage to Lizard E.

20:40, Today: Marthohtar Oakheart rolled 5 using 1d6.  check for extra action.

Doherti sights along another shaft and lets fly at one of the remaining foes. Without waiting to see the effect, he shoots again, between two of his allies. His caution results in a mere graze, but enough to send a signal to these outnumbered creatures.

---

Standard: 21:56, Today: Doherti rolled 18 using 1d20+8.  Ranged attack +8 vs. AC 17 of C. Hit.
21:58, Today: Doherti rolled 7 using 1d6+3.  Ranged attack damage, 1d6+3.
Natural even: 22:00, Today: Doherti rolled 16 using 1d20+8.  Ranged attack +8 vs. AC 17 of E. Miss. 1 damage.

OOC: Round 3 / Party's Turn

The Lizardman Savages have AC:17 PD:16 MD:12.
A - Dead
B – Dead
C - HP:32/25 - Engaged with Thorgrim
D - Dead
E – HP:32/29 - Engaged with Tristan and Logresia
Doherti - HP:27/27; 18/15/14; In cover behind entry.

Bonuses/Ongoing Effects:
- Escalation Die +2 to your attacks.
- Bless (Marthotar) +1 to attack rolls to hit for all but Logresia for the rest of the battle
- Song of Heroes (Logresia) +1 to attack roll until her next turn

Technically I counted A still having 1 HP since Lady's Magic missile did 4 dmg, but that doesn't matter at this point.

Tristan prepares for another swipe but slips on the bloody floor and falls to one knee, never delivering the blow and barely keeping hold of his sword.

Morland skulks around the combatants and heads towards the nest-like structure in the middle of the room. He starts feverishly searching the structure and basket-like holes on it. "Not here... there's nobody in here. Where can they be? Where are they?!" The farmer mutters.

Vander peeks from the door again in attempt to launch another spell attack. The violence, gore and seeing the others gang up on the last enemies, makes him hesitate. A missed opportunity.

The Milky-Eyed lizardman falls on the floor, mortally wounded. It's breathing is labored, yet it suddenly speaks in garbled Common, as in response to Morland: "You soft-skins killed my war band, my egg-siblings, and now you have killed me. I know why you came here. You came to search the others of your kind. Too bad, without my help you'll never find them. They've heard Her whispers and they bow to Her now... as shall you too soon..." It coughs blood on the floor and and lets out what looks and sounds like a pained chuckle. "For She is the New Order, the New Rule of the lands. Soon EVERYBODY hears her whispers, sees Her beauty, and then..." In mid-sentence Milky-Eye stops moving as its life force leaves its body.

+++

The enemy turn:

The remaining lizardmen continue fighting, apparently indifferent about how their companions fare. Like a cornered animals.

Thorgrim's enemy makes a feeble blow, hisses and gnarls in disappointment to a miss.

The one now engaged with Tristan, Logresia and Marthohtar sees its opportunity when Tristan slips but the creature is hurt and outnumbered. It can't connect.

+++

OOC: Round 4 / Party's Turn

The Lizardman Savages have AC:17 PD:16 MD:12.
A - Dead
B – Dead
C - HP:32/25 - Engaged with Thorgrim
D - Dead
E – HP:32/7 - Engaged with Tristan, Logresia, Marthohtar, Staggered

Bonuses/Ongoing Effects:
- Escalation Die +3 to your attacks.
- Bless (Marthotar) +1 to attack rolls to hit for all but Logresia for the rest of the battle.

Logresia swings her mace again but only manages a feeble blow against lizardman E.
18:33, Today: Logresia Skrieven rolled 6 using 1d20+4.  Attack with mace.
Miss with mace does only 1 damage

Incensed by this blasphemous talk, Thorgrim swings his axe in a wide arc, leaving a trail of brilliant white light in its wake as he channels his holy fury. However, while the lizardman is knocked off balance by the force of the blow, it still manages to catch it on its spear and suffer no major harm.

Thorgrim is forced to consider that perhaps today is just not his day...

07:13, Today: Thorgrim Stonefriend rolled 9 using 1d20+8.  Smite Evil.
07:14, Today: Thorgrim Stonefriend rolled 4 using 1d8+2.  Damage.
07:16, Today: Thorgrim Stonefriend rolled 1 using 1d12.  Damage.

C takes... 2 damage. Bah. :p

Marthohtar swings his blade again, as the milky-eyed lizardman dies, and his blade tears through his opponent's throat.  He whirls, for a moment appearing to be doing a strange dance, and in a flash of steel his blade lashes out again, striking at the last standing lizardman, blade cleaving into him, as his footwork takes him into position to cover the dwarf's flank again.


00:16, Today: Marthohtar Oakheart rolled 18 using 1d20+7 with rolls of 11.  Attack on Lizard E.

00:16, Today: Marthohtar Oakheart rolled 11 using 1d8+5 with rolls of 6.  Damage to Lizard E.

00:17, Today: Marthohtar Oakheart rolled 1 using 1d6 with rolls of 1.  check for extra action.

00:18, Today: Marthohtar Oakheart rolled 20 using 1d20+7 with rolls of 13.  Attack on Lizard C.

00:18, Today: Marthohtar Oakheart rolled 8 using 1d8+5 with rolls of 3.  Damage on Lizard C.

Taking advantage of Thorgrim knocking his opponent off-kilter, Jobol was suddenly just...there, a jagged knife (or was it some kind of saw?) in hand and slashing at the lizards' hamstrings. Just as quickly, he was back in position defending his mistress.

OOC:
Move Action: Engage Savage C

Standard Action: Tumbling Strike
12:50, Today: Jobol Harguld rolled 27 using 1d20+7.  Tumbling Strike vs. Savage C.
12:51, Today: Jobol Harguld rolled 10 using 2d8+2d4+4.  Damage (Crit + Sneak Attack).

Quick Action: Disengage and move back to former position.
12:51, Today: Jobol Harguld rolled 17 using 1d20+5.  Disengage.

Lady Magister wanted to see which enemy was looking the weakest for the link would be broken. As one falls from the attacks then only one more remained. She points her finger to let more missiles streak in the air.

13:40, Today: Lady Magister rolled 5 using 2d4 ((1,4)).
This message was last edited by the player at 18:43, Wed 29 Dec 2021.

The group kills the remaining two foes swiftly. At some sentient level the last savage must understand its life is about to end. Its exited thrills turn into high-pitched squeals when multiple attacks cut its flesh from different angles. The last savage's final moments make it look like a flailing training dummy, hopelessly out skilled and outnumbered. Its squeal is cut short with an audible thud when Lady Magister's magic missile hits it squarely on the chest killing it.

Silence returns to the chamber apart from occasional crack of slowly burning wood in the fireplaces at the NW and SW corners. It looks like the wood burned is from dismantled furniture.

Tristan wipes his sword clean on one of the corpses and walks over to the nest-structure and Morland rummaging through it. "They're not there?"

"No, they're not! So far I've found a gold ring, a belt made of some predator's hide and total of 6 cooking pots, but no sign of my son." Morland replies and stands up, defeated.

"A ring? Let me see it, please." Tristan takes the ring the peasant hands over. "Ha! This ring is Lesviel's. I've seen it in her hand when she performs. This is a good sign! These beasts must have taken it from her, right?"

The village elder looks at you all and displays the ring. "This is Lesviel's, I'm certain of it! We must push on! "

Vandren steps quietly inside the room and picks up the torch Doherti had tossed on the floor. The young wizard looks the bloodied corpses and swallows hard.

You stand near the western door that is in the middle of the west wall of this room. Now being able to look more closely, this area might have been a kitchen at one time ages ago. Beyond the nest there are two doors in the corner of the room, both sealing a passage towards the east, one in the NE corner and the second one in the SE corner.

+++

The combat is over and we're back in the exploration mode. You can use Recoveries dice if you want to heal. What do you want to do?

Thorgrim rubs his aching spots with a grimace. They got him good, the bastards. Luckily, he's a Dwarf of the mountain holds, not some soft-skinned lowlander - he's a bit bruised, but not badly hurt.

"All right, which way do we go?" he says. "I suppose one's as good as any, right?"

He heads for the north-east door.

10:56, Today: Thorgrim Stonefriend rolled 13 using 2d10+3, dropping the lowest dice only with rolls of 10,5.  Recovery.

Jobol hovered close to Lady Magister, taking up his accustomed position by her side. "What I want to know is what these scalies are doing down here in the first place." he grumbled. "It's not like them to set up somewhere this dry. They like the damp." The nasty little hunchback sniffed the air and casually inspected the nest himself to see if his eyes might spot something the others wouldn't.

Doherti collects any arrows that might be reusable and then leads the way toward whichever path has the strongest indication of missing people behind it. Or the closest one, if there's no clear difference.

Logresia follows behind Doherti, trusting in his abilities.

Marthohta also follows Doherti.

Jobol checks out the mound like nest-structure, perhaps 15' in diameter. It has been build of branches, sticks, mud and random junk and appears to be rather recent construct; some of the wood material and perhaps the mud must have been brought outside. The holes in it, basket like and not much different of a bird's nest have the same punchy stink as the lizardfolk bodies, only stronger. Jobol himself could easily curl up in one of them, but even for him the stink is quite repulsive. The nest hold random junk, pieces of pottery, bone shards etc. There's nothing valuable in them.

There are no clear tracks for Doherti to follow. Following Thorgrim's initiative you enter through the NE door arriving into a new chamber. It's also square and slightly larger than the previous one. Vander lifts the torch higher but the light doesn't reveal far walls or corners.  Few long dried wooden benches stand in disorder nearby and a partially broken large table. Next to them is a pile of broken wooden stuff, pieces of similar wooden furniture which have been crudely broken into portable chunks and piled up. You saw similar chunks burning in the fireplaces in the previous chamber. On the left-hand side wall there are still remains of long ago decayed tapestry. Only upper portions of it still hang from the holders, lower parts have been torn away or fallen loose by their own.

The air here is dry and cooler than in the previous room. As you carefully move on, Vander's torch reveals an exit; a decorative, heavy wooden door with metal enforcing in the middle of the east wall, empty torch holders on each side of it. All of you can see on the floor a lot of movement has been going towards this door, which is firmly closed now. Closer to the door, you notice a familiar crude, recently carved, glyph on the door; an eye with a slit iris on it.

As you approach the door, you think you hear sounds behind the door, quick footsteps maybe? They end as soon as you pick them up.

Lady Magister was pleased to see the last one fall but still there was something peeking its ugly head up in the back of her mind. As she was thinking, Jobol's words brought her out of thought. Nodding her head to him "True but that is not my main concern.  Its this Her the other one spoke of and this New Order. she softly said as she allowed those that were skilled at tracking to do what they do best and follow behind.

Watching Jobol as he rummage through the large nest.

With a muffled grunt, Thorgrim sets his feet and raises his shield in the direction of the door. If anything comes out of it, he'll meet it with the business end of his axe! But if nothing does, he'll wait with opening it until everyone else is ready to face whatever is behind it.

Logresia drew her crossbow and aimed for a point ten feet behind the door.  Yes she knew it wasn't open yet, but she had no plans to fire until it was.

Marthohtar chuckles.  "My turn, Thorgrim?  That's fair.  Everyone ready?"

Not waiting for a response, he raises his shield, crouching slightly behind it, to protect himself from javelins, then steps forward, and flings the door wide.

Marthohtar yanks the door open. Behind it is an corridor - empty.

Some 40 feet away the passage opens to an open space and you see low light - perhaps daylight - faintly emitting from somewhere above in there.

As you advance towards the end of the corridor, it opens into a rectangular chamber. Walls have been chalked white, amplifying the faint beam of sunlight emitting from a very small hole in the ceiling. The beam is directed somehow and it illuminates a rectangular stone altar, also chalked white, at a dais in the north end of the chamber. From the distance it looks like a fallen candelabra is on top or the altar. You can make out remains of a mural picture on the white stone wall behind the altar but it has been messed and vandalized unrecognizable with soot, dirt and, perhaps, blood?

On the right-hand side of the altar, on the wall there is a piece of worn and partially torn tapestry hanging from ceiling to the floor. What has been portrayed on it is no longer discernible.

From the dais to the south wall there are heavy wooden benches, made of heavy dried wood, in disarray on the floor. Some of them have collapsed on their own, some still maintain their form but look brittle.

The room is silent. There is a similar heavy decorated door near the SE corner exiting south. It's ajar, darkness cloaking the corridor behind it.

"Is this a chapel?" Vander whispers and lifts the torch he carries higher.

Doherti puts a finger to his lips and uses hand signals to indicate that something is moving behind the altar. He nocks and arrow, but doesn't draw it back. He approaches the altar while moving to one side to get a view of what's behind while still some distance away.

Thorgrim scratches his beard and gives the room a lingering look. As a dwarf of the cloth, he has some knowledge of other faiths; straining little-used brain cells, he tries to remember if this chapel reminds him of any of them.

10:50, Today: Thorgrim Stonefriend rolled 17 using 1d20+3.  INT+Theology of the Stone.

Logresia moves slowly to the side of the room, looking for a place where she could view the back of the altar, but as she approached such a place, she continued to examine the walls, being careful not to startle that which she had heard behind it.

When she felt she was in position, she turned to have a look and approached the altar.

Marthohtar heads into the room rather incautiously, hoping to attract an ambush by feigning obliviousness, but still ready for a fight.  He looks over the symbols, trying to identify who is worshipped here.

Those looking behind the altar can see a small Gnome individual hiding there, pressing his back firmly against the altar and trying to be quiet. He has a big bulbous nose and large ears, even for a gnome, and his short brown hair and beard are messed with dust and dirt, as is his leather armor. He is unarmed, and with bloodshot eyes appears quite exhausted and stressed out.

"Oh dear. Um, hello?" he says to you as he notices you've found him.

Logresia bends to make herself look as small and unthreatening as possible as she looked at the gnome and said in as soft and gentle a voice as possible, "Hello, are you okay? You seem somewhat afraid."

Thorgrim relaxes slightly. If he remembers his lessons correctly - and admittedly he spent a lot of them doodling pictures of himself slicing goblins in half with an axe in the margin of his books - this shrine is dedicated to a benevolent god. That's good. Shrines dedicated to deranged hell-gods have better treasure, but you never know when you'll pick up a pesky curse from one.
This message was last edited by the player at 12:00, Sun 09 Jan 2022.

Doherti relaxes somewhat, but is still focused on the primary problem. He moves to the door, ready to go through it once the others are finished, but exuding and eagerness to keep moving.

"Water, please? This thirst is killing me." the gnome pleads, looking each of you nervously and trying to read who you are and what you're up to. "I thought you're them... people patrolling these chambers all the time."

"Vavrus?" Tristan comes over to the gnome. The old man is visibly shaken by finding this individual.

"Tristan? Man, I'm glad to see you, boss. You found me, heh." The gnome says but there's no visible relief in his expression or body language. "You're not... Um...what are you doing here?" Vavrus asks very, very carefully and tentatively. Even after meeting apparently an old friend, the gnome is still looking very worried and guarded.

Marthohtar steps forward, relaxing his stance a little, and says, "Vavrus, is it?  I'm Marthohtar. I don't have any water, I'm afraid... we're here to rescue some children.  You say people are patrolling?  Do you mean lizards?"

Lady Magister kept to the back, she didn't trust the being even if it was a friend of Tristan.  Its first reaction to him and the way it stopped in sentence made her wounder what was he not saying.

When Marthohtar moved up to speak and it seemed that he too was under the false illusion that they were here to rescue children.  When in fact they were here to rescue missing people from the village.  Men, woman and children.

Her eyes moved to Jobol to see if he could get a better look at this gnome.

Logresia shrugged and offered a flask to Vavrus.  It's half full and lukewarm but it's water.  "Drink slow", she said, "And don't choke."

Hearing Marthohtar's words visibly eases up the gnome and also seem to loosen his tongue. "Phew! I was so hoping somebody would come, literally praying that somebody not enthralled by that damned thing in the lower level would come and set us all free! Somehow I snapped out of her charm... um, yesterday? I managed to escape through the ladders and a secret trap door I saw while I pretended to do the tasks they appointed to me. The other enthralled were easy to bypass, as they don't seem to mind, but I couldn't find a way get past those bloody bipedal lizards, though! Today they were searching for me, I know it!"

Vavrus pauses and takes the flask Logresia offers and drinks eagerly, taking long thirsty sips. "Ah, so good! Thank you, miss. I stumbled upon and was trapped into this place, the only room having light down here." He makes a vague sign with the flask towards the daylight shining from above. "Hour after hour I've been here, stuck into this room, hiding every single time the patrol went by. They are easy to hear, you know, the lizards... anyways, I was beginning to fear they'd smell me out, eventually, as I had to pee behind the altar..."

He eyes each of you, looking a bit confused upon seeing Tristan and Morland with you but says nothing about it. "Ok, I'm ready. Let's get the hell out of here right now before the patrol comes again, shall we? Which way is the fresh open air and daylight?"

"We still have those kidnapped young'uns to rescue!" Thorgrim grumbles. "Did you see any of those, by the way?"

She couldn't resist "There is more than kids we are here to rescue.  There is a village not to far that has missing people. That is why we all are here.  To rescue the missing people.  Yes there is one child that we know of but others are not. she didn't know where they got the idea that the were here saving children.

Then she turned to the gnome "Which way takes us down further to save the rest of your village?
Again she didn't miss the eye contact that the gnome was giving Tristan

Logresia frowns.  "What patrol?  The lizards we just massacred before your very eyes? Or are we expecting some others?  If it's others, which way did they go?"

"Yes, only Aisaac is a child, the others missing from our village are young adults or teenagers, all strong, fit and capable. Well, apart from the old village madman Leonus, but I don't know if he's here or just has wandered off."

Vavrus gives light nods.

"Yea, I've seen the people from Thistleby; Semil, Lesviel, Hantus, even that old fool Leonus. They all are here and I also saw Aisaac brought in yesterday. The boys is enthralled, I'm afraid."

He gives a quick apologetic glance towards Morland.

"I saw Aisaac arrive just after I had climbed the ladders up to this level. They're all alive, though it's impossible to say whether they are still under the sorcerous charm or not without speaking with them, and that was really hard to do because of the Gnolls. They hated us and guarded us all the time and would rather have eaten us than keep us working, but they fear her...it... or what the hell that thing is." Vavrus pauses for a moment to think, then adds: "There are other people too, others not from Thistleby. I think they are folks gone missing from the passing trade caravans and from the other nearby villages as well."

Lady Magister looked at Vavrus "Working, you say.  What kind of work did they have all of you doing? she was interested in knowing what is really going on down there.  Was they excavating some lost treasures or some hidden evil power.

"You've killed the lizardfolk? They are the patrol. They've been swarming this level constantly like ants. But I don't want to go back down there! Please don't make me! I just wan't to see the sun... She is going to charm you all and I'm f*cked up again! No offence." Vavrus hands the flask back to Logresia.

"I know of two possible routes to the lower level. Both are that way." He points to the door leading south where Doherti alrady waits.

"The next chamber that way is a throne room of sorts. Behind the stone throne there is a trap door with rusty stairs to the lower level, into a small chamber there. That is where I came up.

The other route which the lizardfolk, gnolls and the thing usually use, is a secred door in the chamber beyond the the throne room, but I don't know how the secret door there is operated. There are proper stairs and all there and it leads into a storage room with a cistern of sorts. There are guards there usually."

The dirty, dusty gnome sniffs and looks at you, appearing generally miserable.

In reply to Lady Magister (msg # 156):

"Cleaning the chambers, carrying and sorting goods, mostly. The lower level is already much more...polished than this one. And then there are areas they never let us enter."
This message was last edited by the GM at 21:49, Sat 15 Jan 2022.

Logresia smiles a merciless smile and says in a wickedly soft voice, "You heard the bangs did you not?  That was me, killing the patrol with one of my little bombs.  Now I have another question and I'd like you to answer regardless of any charms or compulsions you may be under because quite frankly, you should be more afraid of me.  Are you ready for the question?" She stroked the dwarf's hair in a manner not designed to arouse, but quite the opposite. Then, without waiting for an answer, she asked, "Who, precisely is she?  And WHAT is she?"

In reply to Logresia Skrieven (msg # 159):

The eyes of Vavrus widen as his emotional state takes a notch towards horrified."Y-y-yeah I -I heard the bang. I thought it was THEM coming for me..." Vavrus shakes his head and stares the floor. "I think she...she is a demon. She looks like... almost like a satyr and... she's tall and beautiful and... she can mess your mind when you're near her, making her more appealing. She can force her will on you and you'll think she loves you... But she does not. It's dangerous to be near her...." the gnome's voice dies out.

"Demon eh? Do you know her name?" asks Logresia.

In reply to Logresia Skrieven (msg # 161):

"Yea, she called herself Zaath."

Logresia nods.

Thorgrim snorts into his moustaches. Why do people keep bothering him with the details? Young'uns, old'uns... clearly the important thing is that there are some 'uns who need rescuing and that said rescuing will involve him getting to hit things with his axe! Surface dwellers just don't have their priorities straight...

"Ah, then our course is clear!" he says. "Our quivering friend here can leg it back to the village, while we advance through the throne room and down to the lower level! This demoness needs a good smiting in the name of Hyemgald the Deep, I say!"

"Don't demons have to be banished?" asked Logresia politely. "As opposed to revoked?"

"Gnolls, demons..." Tristan shakes his head and sighs. "I'm out of my depth with such monsters, I'm afraid. I'll return to Thistleby with Morland and Vavrus. I'm more useful there warning them and starting preparations... in case of the worst outcome. People need to know. I hope our agreement still stands, heroes."

"Bring my boy back to me, please." Morland says.

Vandren hesitantly raises his hand. "I'll return with you to the surface. I have means of creating light until we get there. I'm not a dwarf and I've learned that I get anxious underground... and especially in the dark."

Lady Magister had no problem seeing in the dark but she was worried about Jobol, cause this was all something that would of gotten his interest and he would of been running ahead of everyone just to see what chaos he could muster.

Giving the young Vander a nod but she also understood that he was a loose cannon down here.  As the group left them and started their way back to the surface she looked at all here now and wondered what fun this is going to become now.

"Where's Jobol?" wondered Logresia aloud.  "Is he likely to have gone ahead on his own?"

"Let us move on," says Doherti, already by the door. "Watch each other, lest this creature take control of one of us."

"Right!" Thorgrim says. He strides for the door, at least to the extent that someone with very short legs can be regarded as striding.

Marhohtar nods at Tristan.  "Stay safe, we shall celebrate on our return."

He joins Thorgrim, relaxing his pace to keep even with the dwarf.

Tristan, Vavrus and Morland depart accompanied by Vander, who hands his torch to Doherti before they leave. "Good luck, friends. I hope to see you back in the village."

+++

After a short corridor between the chambers the southern passage opens into a very large and high - certainly the largest you've seen here so far -  hall. You can more sense than actually see the vast openness of this chamber - it's certainly big enough to have a large gathering or a dance. It's a bit baffling to enter into a such large open space after previous chambers, which themselves weren't that small to begin with.

The walls here are chalked white like in the chapel. A complex and detailed mural portraying forest scenery with animals, human hunting parties, camps and skirmishes is still partially intact and visible on the walls. The ceiling above is domed, beginning some 20' above and rising higher towards the center. You arrive near the NW corner of this vast hall.

In the NW corner some 30' to our right there's a large rusty iron brazier, now dark and cold, hanging from a sturdy iron chain, thick as a man's thigh. The chain is supported by a tall iron tripod. Some 30-40' in the SE direction you can just barely make out very wide steps, beginnings of a raised area of the floor which looks to elevate into a large dais in that direction.

In the SW direction, some 40-50' away, you can see another similar decorated heavy door, closed, similar to the ones you saw when entering and leaving the chapel behind and again entering this hall.

The torchlight you carry doesn't even begin to reach the other corners of the area. It's dead quiet here apart from the noises you make yourself. Jobol is nowhere to be seen, he seems to have vanished like a shadow into night.

What do you do?

Doherti moves into the room, toward the mostly likely signs of where the townsfolk are. He'll keep within the party's light.

Logresia stands perfectly still and closes her eyes as she listens to the world around her, seeking out what can be gleaned from her ears instead of her eyes.

Thorgrim heads for the dais, checking to see if there is indeed a throne on it like the gnome said.

Marthohtar stays with Doherti and his torch.  He whispers, "Should we check that door?  Or maybe light the brazier so we can see?"

Doherti whispers back, "I'm not in charge and you don't need my permission. Do what you think is best and I'll follow your lead." As he says this, he moves to the brazier to light it.
This message was last edited by the player at 05:02, Thu 20 Jan 2022.

The brazier still holds ages old coal mixed with some chemical with sweet oily scent. It doesn't require more than sticking the torch into the brazier and the contents of it ignite and quickly turn into an intense flame with bluish tint on it. The large flame illuminates the area enough to see most of it among the dancing shadows of the party.

It's a rectangular chamber roughly 100 feet east to west and little longer north to south. On the west east side of the hall a several wide steps rise onto a wide dais. A 6' tall massive throne of dark stone, a deeply shadowed contrast to otherwise light colors of the chamber walls, sits alone on the dais. Otherwise whole chamber is completely barren and empty apart from other tripod-supported braziers in each of the other three corners.

A path of frequent travel has been formed on the dust of the floor here from the door where you arrived to the nearby door to the west. It looks like something the lizardfolk could have made while moving through. There are also rather clear tracks of one small humanoid coming from the throne's direction.

Approaching the dais and knowing now what to look for Thorgrim can see lines, or seams, on the smooth stone floor immediately behind the throne; outlines of a 3 by 3 feet trapdoor made of the same stone as the floor. The trapdoor is closed and there isn't visible ring on it for pulling it open and the stone hatch itself must be quite heavy. The small humanoid tracks end near the trapdoor where the dust has been disturbed, likely by Vavrus climbing out of there.

Two more familiar wooden decorated doors become visible on the south wall; one near SW corner and the other near SE corner.

(So in addition to the door whence you came, three other exits with normal doors; one to the west near the now burning brazier and two on the south wall. Plus the trapdoor behind the throne.)
This message was last edited by the GM at 18:27, Fri 21 Jan 2022.

Marthohtar smiles.  "It's not about being in charge, just cooperation.  We are stronger in consensus, and in unison.  For example, we should decide - are we better served by getting to the lower level by the gnome's route, and attacking the demoness directly?  Or by being cautious and making sure all her guards are dealt with first?"

"The better action is the one we are prepared to do quickly, and with the least amount of discussion. If I must decide, I say we take the gnome's route and attack directly." Doherti starts moving toward the trapdoor. "If anyone disagrees with that, fine. All they have to do is state another action, and I will follow that. But talking is not action."

"Hear, hear!" says Thorgrim, whose beard gets tangles from the very thought of being cautious. "Let's go smite her for the greater glory of Hyemgald! We can mop up her flunkies later."

Logresia shrugs. "Gnome's route I guess. ". she starts moving.

Marthohtar nods.  "Let's go, then."  He follows as well.

You gather near the throne. In proper torch light it appears to be of great workmanship. Thorgrim can appreciate the stonework put into its crafting and in fact Throgrim thinks it's perhaps dwarvenhand made and transported here. It's carved from single block of obsidian stone and is perfectly smooth, plain but massive. Two deep red and beautifully cut rubies, about size of a man's thumbnail each, have been skillfully embedded in the front facing part of the each arm support. It would likely take same time and effort to carve them loose, but they look valuable.

The trapdoor hatch on the floor behind the throne is clear for all to notice, but there's no visible handle or opening mechanism for it.

What do you do?

Lady Magister moves up to meet the others and she looks at the trapdoor. "So which one of you are able to open it without a latch? she asked softly.

Wondering for a moment what all was she able to do to speed up this moment.

Doherti sets about looking for a trigger Tha releases the door. He checks the Throne on the assumption that the person who is seated there would want to control it.

Thorgrim, who is never one to try subtlety if there's a chance that brute force will do, tries to get the edge of his axe into the crack of the trapdoor so as to pry it open.

Logresia joins Doherty in checking the throne for controls to the trapdoor or any other doors come to think of it.  Then she tries to imagine where she might place a trap were the 'trapdoor' designed not to open to a room below, but as a trigger for a trap.

Thorgrim's attempts of prying the trapdoor open with his axe are unsuccessful. The seam, while visible, is too narrow for the blade to sick deep enough to get proper leverage to be applied with force. The axe's blade gives and breaks leaving a small dent on its sharp edge.

Doherti and Logresia search the throne and realize the placement of the ruby stones seems suddenly very, very appropriate. As you fiddle with the one on the right hand side, it suddenly clicks and sinks into the armrest. For few heartbeats nothing else seem to happen. Then there are faint sounds of mechanical gears grinding and speeding up, coming from the throne itself, and the trapdoor sinks a bit and opens downwards and sideways quietly on strong metal hinges. A gust of warm air flow out from the hole. Once the trapdoor is fully open, it stops and the gem in the armrest clicks again and pops up to its natural position. The sounds of the mechanism die out.

Flickering light shines from below through the opening. Rusty metal ladders are bolted on the wall below and they descend some 30 feet straight down into a small 20 x 30 feet chamber. In the chamber below a tired looking young half-elf female looks up to you, her mouth agape in surprise. Her delicate narrow face is dirty and her shoulder long flowy snow white hair is greasy and dusty. Her once better quality travelling clothes are torn and worn. She is unarmed, but has a simple broom in her hands and she seems to have been in the process of swiping the chamber floor. There is a lit oil lantern placed on the floor few feet from her, the source of light for her here.

The room is clean, much cleaner than the chambers you've encountered so far and also much warmer. In the NW corner there's a stack of boxes, crates, saddles, harnesses and filled sacks - looks like trade goods - haphazardly stacked and thrown in there. A simple wooden door, closed, marks an exit towards south in the SE corner.

Doherti assures the girl that he and the others aren't a danger to her. Then, having stowed his bow for the trip down the ladder, he takes out his hatchet and moves to the wooden door, guarding it and preparing to open it once they had learned all they could from the girl.

---

Group: Inside room at bottom of ladder, judging by DM description of what we can see.
Doherti: Armed with hand axe, guarding door in the corner.
Light: ? Someone could have held the torch and then dropped it down to Doherti.

Thorgrim clambers down the ladder.

"We're here to rescue you!" he declares. Doherti has already clarified that, but a paladin should never let redundance get in the way of making heroic declarations.

Logresia frowns, looking down at the girl and asking, "Do we think that's one of the children we're looking for?"

Then she let's herself down the ladder and asks the girl, "How long have you been down here?"

Lady Magister is the next to climb down the stairs and she looked at the half-elf woman with deeply concern but she also knew that they didn't have much time and needed to move forward to complete the main part of their mission.  Ridding the people of those that captured and kidnapped these people.

With everyone reassuring her that they were there to help her, she didn't feel the need to speak as well.  But she did allow her eyes to scan the rest of the room making sure there was no other hidden surprises.

"Rescue?" the half-elf female blinks couple of times and there's a delay before the message gets through. Her eyes widen. "Oh."
She swallows hard and her shoulders start to shake as uncontrolled tears start to run down her cheeks. It's rather clear that either she's severely stressed or can put up an incredible performance. "Please, be very, very careful! The dog-headed monsters will kill you if they find you. They're sadists, just looking for a smallest reason to get violent."

"Oh, it's been 7 or 8 days, I think. It's hard to track time when not seeing the sun."

She looks at Doherti at the door. "There are people in the next room. Some of them are still... under the spell, I think, and some who have come out of it have freely joined our masters, trying to get an edge over the rest of us. They may challenge you...

And don't step into the circle and touch the handle! Nobody who's done it has come back."

Doherti at the door leading out can hear mumbled conversation from the other side of the door. Several humans or humanoids. The tones are low and serious, no laughter or joy can be heard.

Nothing seems to be hidden in this room and the half-elf girl just stares at you wide eyed, tears running on her dirty cheeks.

Logresia raises a hand and says to Doherti, "Please wait a moment."

Then to the half elf, she says, "Climb the ladder.  We've taken out all patrols, so if you run to the exit and make your way to the village, you should be safe."  She smiles and says, "But leave me the broom.  It will be helpful."

In reply to Logresia Skrieven (msg # 196):

The half-elf's yes widen even more. She quickly steps forward and hands over the broom to Logresia. When her and Logresia's eyes meet, she says: "I'm Pririla. If I ever see you again, I own my life to you, miss. May the High Druid bless you all." Then she grabs the lantern and starts to climb the ladders as fast as she can. It's not easy with the lantern.

Logresia smiles.  "This should help with mopping up said flunkies.  Are we ready now?"

"For smiting the ungodly with righteous steel?" Thorgrim says. "Har! Always!"

Doherti hefts his axe and nods his readiness.

Marthohtar nods silently, and flings open the door, staying to one side to keep the path clear for Thorgrim.

Lady Magister was very much ready to see what creature was powerful enough to bring all these people to her Will.  She also wanted to uncover that secret if it was ever possible to learn.  A smile crossed her face as she waited to move onward.

Thorgrim, who is not a big believer in the element of surprise, charges through the door with a bellowed battlecry.

Opening the door you see into a longish room 20' wide and 40' long form north to south where the door you're coming from is in the NE corner. The chamber is brightly lit by couple of torches on the wall sconces.

In the middle of the right-hand side (west) wall there's a similar closed simple wooden door as this you're passing through.

In the far SW corner there's a exit passage towards south, a dark tunnel wide enough for one person to walk at a time only.

At the SE corner of the room there's a strange circle faintly glowing in orange the floor. It's embedded with similarly glowing patterns of runes or hieroglyphs. At the eastern wall, above the magical circle, there's a vertical handhold or handle, perhaps metallic, also glowing with faint orange runes.

+++

In the middle of the room there's a group of four individuals gathered to stand there in conversation. They're two human males, an elf male and a dwarf male wearing ragged leathers and each having a simple weapon, a club, hatched and so on. Their discussion stops as the door into the room opens.

Behind them just inside of the narrow exit tunnel you can just make out a tall figure standing in the darkness. It's a 7' tall humanoid with a hyena's head holding a massive longbow. When it notices you, it barks a command with growling broken common: "Intrrrruders! Stophh thhhem!" and nocks an long arrow preparing to shoot.

The group of four thugs grunt acknowledgement in unison and grab their impromptu clubs. One of them says: "For our queen! Let's show her we're worthy to serve her!"

ROUND 1
We are in combat mode the Players have Initiative. All enemies can be Engaged. The Gnoll is Behind and getting into melee with it can be Intercepted by any or all of the thugs.

The enemy:
A - Thug HP:27/27 - Human, Nearby
B - Thug HP:27/27 - Human, Nearby
C - Thug HP:27/27 - Elf, Nearby
D - Thug HP:27/27 - Dwarf, Nearby
E - Gnoll HP:46/46 - Nearby but Behind the Thugs

Lady Magister was shocked to see that there was a few workers here and it was a shame that they were under the Charm of this being.

"Do not kill them, they are innocent.  Use blunt damage upon them. she called out hoping that the Dwarf heard her words seeing that he wasn't the wises in his litter.

"Even the one behind" asked Logresia, drawing her mace and moving forward to close with and strike at the nearest opponent.


20:18, Today: Logresia Skrieven rolled 11 using 1d20+4.  Initiative.
20:13, Today: Logresia Skrieven rolled 24 using 1d20+4.  +4 attack with mace.
20:13, Today: Logresia Skrieven rolled 6 using 1d6+3.  Damage. Doubled to 12

"They don't look so innocent to me..." Thorgrim complains, but moves against the elf with some caution. As a result, the nimble thug sidesteps his uncertain blow. This is what comes of going into battle with less than supreme enthusiasm!

06:23, Today: Thorgrim Stonefriend rolled 4 using 1d20+2.  Initiative.

06:23, Today: Thorgrim Stonefriend rolled 12 using 1d20+3.  Attack.

"Mind control, you think?  Or are you sure?"

Marthohtar charges in after the dwarf, and swings the flat of his blade at the elf, but unaccustomed to using his sword in that manner, his strike goes wide.

  01:16, Today: Marthohtar Oakheart rolled 14 using 1d20.  Initiative.

01:17, Today: Marthohtar Oakheart rolled 8 using 1d20+6.  Attack on Elf.

Doherti moves up to the dwarf. He swings his hatchet, but in a way that should merely stun rather than cleaving flesh. With every inch of ground he gains, he tried to move toward the gnoll.

---

14:43, Today: Doherti rolled 16 using 1d20+4.  Initiative, +4.
14:48, Today: Doherti rolled 17 using 1d20+4.  Attack (to knock out) +4 vs. PD of dwarf. On a hit: 14:50, Today: Doherti rolled 4 using 1d6+3.  Hatchet damage, 1d6+3. On a miss: 1 damage.

Logresia hits the first thug squarely across the ribs. The man nearly bends over his face twist in pain. He is forced to defensive and starts to backpedal while defending himself towards the western door. He makes an attempt to strike but it lacks effort and misses.

+++

The Gnoll shoots their bow and hits Thorgrim in the joint between shoulder plate and breastplate. [8 damage to Thorgrim]. Incredibly fast the Gnoll shoots second arrow which misses Thorgrim's head only by few inches.

The elf who swiftly dances with Thorgrim and Marthohtar brings his hatched into Thogrim's pelvis area drawing blood. [5 additional damage to Thorgrim]

Two Thugs, a human and the dwarf, intercept Doherti, perhaps seeing less armored target in him. Both of them land their mace strikes on Doherti's torso. [10 damage total to Doherti]

+++

ROUND 2, Player Turn. Escalation +1

The enemy:
A - Thug AC:17 PD:14 MD:12 HP:15/27 - Human, Engaged w/ Logresia
B - Thug AC:17 PD:14 MD:12 HP:27/27 - Human, Engaged w/ Doherti
C - Thug AC:17 PD:14 MD:12 HP:25/27 - Elf, Engaged w/ Thorgrim & Marthohtar
D - Thug AC:17 PD:14 MD:12 HP:23/27 - Dwarf, Engaged w/ Doherti
E - Gnoll AC:18 PD:17 MD:14 HP:46/46 - Still Behind the Thugs. To engage them you need to disengage your current foe, if you're engaged.

Pointing her finger at the Elf she wanted to make sure he didn't get killed by the Dwarf or anyone else.


14:43, Today: Lady Magister rolled 6 using 2d4+2.  Magic Missiles.

Round 2

Lady Magister is hoping to hurry and make the Elf come out of the Charm by doing damage to him or else she will witness his death.

14:46, Today: Lady Magister rolled 8 using 2d4+2.  Magic Missiles.

Logresia follows the thug who is backpedalling and tries to strike at him again.  She is less successful this time, barely winging him

20:05, Today: Logresia Skrieven rolled 7 using 1d20+4.  Another mace attack against the human thug.
Mace +1 damage on a miss (also forgot escalation but I think 8 is a miss as well)

"Ow! Bugger! Stand still, you prancing bastard!" Thorgrim yelps as he swings his axe again, missing his deft opponent with a wide margin.

Attacking the Elf.

07:58, Today: Thorgrim Stonefriend rolled 8 using 1d20+4.  Attack.
This message was last edited by the player at 06:59, Thu 03 Feb 2022.

Doherti recovers as quickly as he can from the thug's sucker punch, striking back while his eyes dart around, trying to get the lay of this room. But there's not much here that's useful.

---

HP: 17/27
Attack: 22:07, Today: Doherti rolled 25 using 1d20+5.  Basic melee attack with axe (ED 1) +5 vs. AC 14 of dwarf. Critical hit.
22:10, Today: Doherti rolled 11 using 2d6+3.  Hand axe damage (crit), 2d6+3.
22:11, Today: Doherti rolled 5 using 1d6.  Terrain stunt die. Can attempt terrain stunt at ED 5.

ROUND 2, Player Turn. Escalation +1

A - Thug AC:17 PD:14 MD:12 HP:15/27 - Human, Engaged w/ Logresia
B - Thug AC:17 PD:14 MD:12 HP:27/27 - Human, Engaged w/ Doherti
C - Thug AC:17 PD:14 MD:12 HP:25/27 - Elf, Engaged w/ Thorgrim & Marthohtar
D - Thug AC:17 PD:14 MD:12 HP:12/27 - Dwarf, Engaged w/ Doherti
E - Gnoll AC:18 PD:17 MD:14 HP:46/46 - Still Behind the Thugs. To engage them you need to disengage your current foe, if you're engaged.
Doherti 18/15/14, 17/27 - engaged with dwarf and Burly human.

Marthohtar continues to fight, using the flat of his blade at the elf, but the unfamiliar style hampers him, and his strike goes wide.

  23:42, Today: Marthohtar Oakheart rolled 6 using 1d6.  roll for extra action.

23:42, Today: Marthohtar Oakheart rolled 8 using 1d20+6.  Attack on Thug C.

The elf proves to be an experienced combatant, dancing effortlessly in dangerous melee with Thorgrim and Marthohtar. He can't avoid Lady's magical missiles, though. The arcane bolts hit the elf in the torso. He staggers backwards and his angry face jerks into direction where this new attack came. Noticing Lady Magister for the first time he stops on his tracks... there's confusion in his eyes, then recognition and hesitation that lasts few heartbeats. Then he blinks as if waking from a daydream.

Suddenly he drops to one knee, bows deep at Lady Magister while simultaneously throwing his hatched away, which clangs across the floor next to the wall.

"Your Highness? Lady! I didn't mean to... Uh, what have I done?!" He stands kneeling there, not moving and one knee on the floor, head down and eyes on the floor.

Logresia's foe backpedals and defends himself. He manages to strike Logresia on the side of the knee [5 pts damage to Logresia] but suddenly pleads: "I don't want to fight you. We don't have to. Go after the gnoll if you like. I won't stop you."

"What? WHAT?! Betrayal!" hisses one of the human thugs engaged with Doherti and attacks but the ranger dodges. The dwarf follows his friends example but he can't connect either. The dwarf seems to notice Thorgrim and says: "By anvil and fire, I know that voice! Thorgrim Stonefriend - is that you?!" He continues to fight with Doherti, however.


"Grrrhh! Kill the witchhh, you worrrthless sacks of maggots! Kill the witchhh!" The gnoll growls after seeing the elf surrender and fires an arrow towards Lady Magister. The arrow finds its mark and hits Lady in the chest. A second arrow hits immediately after, hitting Lady in the shoulder [16 damage to Lady. Ouch.] If anything, the gnoll is a fast archer.

+++

ROUND 3 - Player's Turn. Escalation +2
- Doherti's stunt will become possible when Escalation is 5, if we get that far.

The enemy:
A - Thug AC:17 PD:14 MD:12 HP:14/27 - Human, Engaged w/ Logresia
B - Thug AC:17 PD:14 MD:12 HP:27/27 - Human, Engaged w/ Doherti
C - Thug AC:17 PD:14 MD:12 HP:10/27 - Elf, Engaged (but passive) w/ Thorgrim & Marthohtar, Staggered
D - Thug AC:17 PD:14 MD:12 HP:12/27 - Dwarf, Engaged w/ Doherti, Staggered
E - Gnoll AC:18 PD:17 MD:14 HP:46/46 - Still Behind the Thugs. To engage them you need to disengage your current foe, if you're engaged.

This message was last edited by the GM at 18:10, Fri 04 Feb 2022.

"Aye, 'tis me!" Thorgrim hollers back. "Why are you fighting for some gnoll? Gnolls are only good for smiting!"

Not wanting to give the rubes reason to continue the fight if they might be talked down, Thorgrim instead points the handle of his axe, in which his Holy Stone is embedded, at Doherti and mouths a quick prayer of protection.

I cast Shield of Faith on Doherti, giving him +2 to AC for the duration of the battle.
This message was last edited by the player at 20:45, Fri 04 Feb 2022.

In reply to Thorgrim Stonefriend (msg # 218):

"Ha! It's been days since I've been able to smite anything! About a time to hit something... Nah, this half-elf makes a good practice target, I reckon, for I think I'm a bit rusty!. He swings and misses Doherti again but then he stops fighting and stands there shaking his bearded head and then looking around, puzzled. "I was hired to protect a caravan, I recall it now... Why did I come here? It was that lady - The damned whisperer clouded my mind!" He looks his primitive club with new eyes and snorts in disgust. "She said that the gnoll over there - Khur is her name - she's our friend. I don't mind that, because she shoots really, really well and she has a really bad temper too - almost like a true dwarf in that regard."

His eyes catch Thorgrim again. "Don't you remember me, Thorgrim Stonefriend?! I'm Mangron of Mountainbane clan. We used to fight beard to beard back in the days!"

Marthohtar takes advantage of the confusion as the enthralled fighters begin to feel better, and steps nimbly around them, coming face to face with the gnoll, slamming his blade into the creature.  He strikes again, blows coming in rapid succession, but his second swing goes wide.

Then he calls out, speaking a word of an ancient language, spoken in Uruk, the first city ever to be built; and suddenly Lady Magister feels life force well up within her.



20:25, Today: Marthohtar Oakheart rolled 19 using 1d20.  Disengage check.

20:25, Today: Marthohtar Oakheart rolled 19 using 1d20+6.  Attack.

20:26, Today: Marthohtar Oakheart rolled 7 using 1d8+5.  damage.

Heal spell on Lady Magister so she gets a recovery (works on Nearby due to feat)

Logresia tries to disengage with the guy she's 'fighting' and move to attack the gnoll with her mace instead.

I'm not sure what I have to roll to disengage.

In reply to Logresia Skrieven (msg # 221):

You can move away from the foes that engage you, but you draw an opportunity attack from each of those enemies when you do. If you don’t want to risk an opportunity attack, you can use your move action to attempt to disengage (a disengage check). If you choose to disengage, roll a normal save (11+, no modifiers). You can disengage from more than one foe with a single successful check, but your roll takes a –1 penalty for each foe beyond the first that you are disengaging from.
- If the disengage check succeeds, you can move without drawing opportunity attacks from the foes you were engaged with. Use your move normally.
- If you fail the disengage check, you don’t move, lose your move action for that turn, and remain engaged. You don’t take any opportunity attacks.
Disengaging uses a move action. If you succeed, it’s like getting popped free at the start of your move. If you fail, you use up the move action to no effect.

Logresia tries to disengage with the guy she's 'fighting' and move to attack the gnoll with her mace instead.

^recopied from post 221^
22:45, Today: Logresia Skrieven rolled 20 using 1d20.  Disengage.
22:46, Today: Logresia Skrieven rolled 12 using 1d20+4.  Mace attack versus the Gnoll.
I think that's a miss so 1 point of damage

"I think you're under some sneaky spell, friend Mangron!" Thorgrim says. "Hold your axe - those who have to stoop to such tricks do not deserve the honour of being championed with it! Once we send this underhanded sorcerer packing, we can talk it out over an ale!"

Lady Magister is surprised by the arrows that are sticking out of her body, as she was trying to calm the outcome of the Elf's life.  The new target of her anger is none other than the one causing her some sever pain.  If only she was able to heal herself.

Lightning Fork being cast at the Gnoll.

Attack: 5 vs. PD
22:47, Today: Lady Magister rolled 19 using 1d20+5.
22:48, Today: Lady Magister rolled 17 using 3d6+5.  Damage.

Seeing some of the thugs starting to change their mind about the fight, Doherti takes a defensive stance and holds up his empty hand to his opponents. "We're not after you, we're after something controlling people. Maybe controlling you. Let us past." He's ready to swing his weapon, if his opponents don't let up.

---

Doherti will take a defensive stance, even if that means giving up his action. He'd like to move through to the gnoll if his opponents let him.

The Gnoll sees Marthohtar coming and snaps a Quick Shot against the elf. The long arrow sinks deep into Marthohtar's upper leg. [A crit; 16 damage to the Wood Elf. Ouch.]

Logresia comes at the Gnoll as well and it is not happy about the situation. It desperately tries to disengage towards the magic circle but is unable to do so. So it drops its bow and grabs a pair of nasty looking hand axes from its belt. "Let me passsh, you hairrrlesssh apesssh! Zaathhh will make you kneel and then I'll have my waysssh with you..." It's rambling cuts into a pained howl when Lady Magister's spell torments its flesh.

Mangron stands there, alert but not continuing to fight "Aye! My mind has been quite foggy past few days. Like a bad dream. I would pay a fortune for a pint of cold ale." The dwarf strokes his forehead as if he's suffering from headache.

The human thug who a moment ago shouted betrayl, suddenly ceases from fighting, drops his weapon and sinks on the floor to sit. "Be my quest then, half-elf. Try your luck with Khur if you wish. I'm tired and I'm tired of fighting most of all . What am I even doing here? I have a family."

+++

ROUND 4 Player's Turn. Escalation +3.
- The gnoll is the only foe that continues fighting. The others apparently weren't very eager to fight to begin with.
- Doherti's stunt will become possible when Escalation is 5, if we get that far.

The enemy:
A - Thug AC:17 PD:14 MD:12 HP:14/27 - Human, Passive
B - Thug AC:17 PD:14 MD:12 HP:27/27 - Human, Passive
C - Thug AC:17 PD:14 MD:12 HP:10/27 - Elf, Staggered, Passive
D - Thug AC:17 PD:14 MD:12 HP:12/27 - Dwarf, Staggered, Passive
E - Gnoll AC:18 PD:17 MD:14 HP:21/46 - Engaged w/ Marthohtar & Logresia, Staggered

Logresia tries again to smash the mace at the gnoll in order to cause as much damage as she can.  This time she doesn't miss.

18:25, Today: Logresia Skrieven rolled 18 using 1d20+7.  Mace attack versus the Gnoll.
18:25, Today: Logresia Skrieven rolled 6 using 1d6+3.  Damage the gnoll.

"Aha! No one left to hide behind, you bastard! SMIIIIIITE EEEEEEEEEVILLLL!!!!"

Thorgrim runs at the Gnoll, swinging his axe around in an arc that trail radiant white light, the force of the half-parried blow sending the creature staggering.

10:13, Today: Thorgrim Stonefriend rolled 22 using 1d20+6.  Smite Evil.

10:13, Today: Thorgrim Stonefriend rolled 4 using 1d8+2.  Damage.

10:14, Today: Thorgrim Stonefriend rolled 8 using 1d12.  Damage.

Aha! About time it worked. :D

Marthohtar speaks again in the ancient language, causing his wounds to close a bit, then swings his blade at the gnoll, but the strike goes wide.




00:06, Today: Marthohtar Oakheart rolled 7 using 1d8.  roll for extra action.

00:06, Today: Marthohtar Oakheart rolled 9 using 1d20+6.  Attack.

00:05, Today: Marthohtar Oakheart rolled 7 using 1d8+3.  Recovery Roll.

His allies appear to have the situation in hand. Doherti stands between them and the other people they had been fighting, making sure they both stay safe and don't rejoin the fight on the gnoll's side.

Lady Magister is carefully taking out the arrows that has pierced her delicate skin.  Once they were taken out her wounds begin to heal.

Literally cornered and staggering the gnoll growls and howls in desperation. It swings wildly with its two handaxes. Second of its strikes manages to find its way past Logresia's guard leaving a vicious slash across the bard's side.

Game Master, for the NPC Gnoll, rolled 26 using 1d20+6.  attack vs Logresia. A Crit; 12 total damage.
Game Master, for the NPC Gnoll, rolled 9 using 1d20+6.  atk vs Thorgrim. A miss.

The thugs remain passive, almost mentally exhausted, while they wait for the outcome of the fight.

+++

ROUND 5 Player's Turn. Escalation +4
- Doherti's stunt will become possible next round when Escalation is 5, if it is needed.

A - Thug AC:17 PD:14 MD:12 HP:14/27 - Human, Passive
B - Thug AC:17 PD:14 MD:12 HP:27/27 - Human, Passive
C - Thug AC:17 PD:14 MD:12 HP:10/27 - Elf, Staggered, Passive
D - Thug AC:17 PD:14 MD:12 HP:12/27 - Dwarf, Staggered, Passive
E - Gnoll AC:18 PD:17 MD:14 HP:2/46 - Engaged w/ Marthohtar, Logresia & Thorgrim, Staggered

Lady Magister walks up to the Elf "What is your name?  I will make sure you are returned back to our lands or wherever you wish to go. her voice is soft and gentle to the ears of the Elf.

Thorgrim tries to strike an impressive finishing blow, but to his annoyance the Gnoll manages to parry the attack through what seems like sheer desperation.

07:50, Today: Thorgrim Stonefriend rolled 15 using 1d20+7.  Attack.

Marthohtar swings again, desperate to finish the beast off, and his blade strikes true.


00:45, Today: Marthohtar Oakheart rolled 18 using 1d20+6.  Attack.

00:45, Today: Marthohtar Oakheart rolled 12 using 1d8+5.  Damage.

00:45, Today: Marthohtar Oakheart rolled 6 using 1d8.  roll for extra action.

Logresia allowed herself to recover most of the damage from the gnoll's latest blow, but her blow in return was less than effective.

17:58, Today: Logresia Skrieven rolled 10 using 1d8+2.  recovery two.
17:59, Today: Logresia Skrieven rolled 12 using 1d20+8.  Attack the gnoll.

In reply to Lady Magister (msg # 234):

The elf lifts his gaze from the floor and looks proudly at you. Under the dirt and grime he is stunningly handsome, even by Elven standards.

"I'm Yalathanil of House Chaeralei, My Lady."

Lady; as part of your education during your time in the Elven Court, you've have had to learn lineages and families of the Elven people - at least the important ones. House Chaeralei rings a bell, it is indeed familiar to you. It's one of the larger important Houses of the High Elves, noted for their outgoing and adventurous nature. Many diplomats and emissaries in the Empire come from this House.

"Again, please accept my apologies for not recognizing you. I'm but a simple mercenary and while it's been a long time since I've seen the Queens Wood, I'm not in need to return anywhere but into open air and sunlight. I never submitted to the spell of the She-Demon. I played along and was looking for a chance to escape. With you people arriving has brought that chance to me... to us." Yalathanil nods towards Mangron and the two humans.

"If you can spare us a torch, I can lead these three outside, or I can stay by your side and fight these oppressors, though I don't have my war gear on me. What is your wish, My Lady?"

Marthohtar finishes the gnoll and after combat, growling and howling the chamber falls nearly quiet. Only faint humming of the magic circle can be heard. The two humans appear shell-shocked and Mangron Mountainbane like he's experiencing the hangover of his lifetime.

+++

The combat has ended and we're back in exploration mode. You can use recovery dice if you have them.

What do you want to do?

Thorgrim produces a leather bottle of eye-wateringly strong ale from his pack and takes a deep gulp of it. Feeling much refreshed, he companionably offers Mangron a swig.

08:32, Today: Thorgrim Stonefriend rolled 12 using 2d10+3, dropping the lowest dice only.  Recovery.

Mangron drinks deep before returning the bottle, some ale foaming down of his beard. "Thank you, brother. It hasn't been that bad down here, but one thing we've been lacking is decent beverages! The management has been rather strict on rationing. Are you sure you don't remember me, Thorgrim? I went on few patrols with you before you...were exiled."

The dwarf shakes his head and rugs his eyes and addresses all of you: "Sorry to cause you all this trouble! I wasn't quite myself! And to add to my shame I've seem to have misplaced my axe, shield and my mail as well! Damned scavenging gnolls!" He throws an angry glance at the now dead gnoll.

Lady Magister looked to Yalathanil with a warming smile. "It is good to that your able to fool them, but it might be best for you to continue on your own mission.  We need to help save the people of this town. she looked for someone to give up a torch.

"Yalathanil please lead those that wish to leave out of here.  This is no place for them.

"'Course I remember you!" says Thorgrim, who doesn't, but who also knows that his brain is a bit of an ale-soggy mess and that there's no reason to hurt a fellow's feelings because of it. "Just took me a while to recognise you, is all. Why don't you head back with the others? I'll keep an eye out for your weapons - can't let fine Dwarfen craftmanship gather rust in some surfacer ruin, can we?"

Logresia smiled. "Let those who wish to leave, leave and we will continue."

"As you wish, My Lady." The elf replies with a bow.

Mangron simply nods to Thorgrim and without waiting further heads to the door where you entered to this room. The quiet humans soon follow him and finally after them Yalathanil after igniting a torch. "We shall warn the nearest settlements about the evil spawning here, regardless of your success. I just wish we shall not have to cross blades again. Good luck on your quest."

+++

The party has now a choice to make; possible paths forward are the closed door on the west wall, a narrow corridor towards south and the glowing magic circle with strange handle on the wall.

Doherti has his breath back. "The gnoll appeared to me to be guarding or coming from this corridor," he say. "I recommend we go that way first."

Marthohtar nods.  "It's as good a way as any, let's go."

Thorgrim hefts his axe on his armoured shoulder.

"Let's be at it!"

"Very well", said Logresia.  "Let us go."