Day 04 - The Deep Well

[DM Illithid]

[Everyone begins here.]

Well rested and properly provisioned, the party gather for a quick bite of morning bread at the Dagger before making way to the Yawning Portal. This early in the morning, there's a surprisingly fresh crowd of men and ladies taking bets and taking turns being lowered into a large well for the cost of a gold piece.

You're unfortunately witness to a man being raised and not having a gold to pay his toll. Durnam is ready to dump him back in when a clergyman of Illmater tosses up a gold coin and pulls the man aside for some healing and direction.

A few eyes catch your presence, possibly sizing up wether or not to bet on your return.

[Kilain Gravendak]

"Hrrrrrm heya Durnam we be aready to take another trip to the underhalls. heres a gold for each of us, and a gold for us for when we return...."

He hands Durnam a small pouch with enough coins in it and hefts his two handed hammer, walks to the edge and looks down as the mechanism is prepared.

he glances at the others and smiles "now this is what I live for! Danger, Exploration and good friends." with a wink at those placing the bets he says with a big grin "whats the line on us up to?"

[Silvamir Grymm]

he glances at the others and smiles "now this is what I live for! Danger, Exploration and good friends." with a wink at those placing the bets he says with a big grin "whats the line on us up to?"

Silvamir offers Kilain an appreciative nod...a silent thanks for his generosity. He can't help but smile at the dwarf's enthusiasm. Waiting for Durnam to answer Kilain's inquiry, the warrior steps up behind the dwarf and rests a hand on Kilain's broad shoulder.

"You seem to be in fine spirits this morning, dwarf," he says, his tone friendly and cheerful. "Perhaps you'd like to do the honors? You head down first, and I will follow."

"Will? Do you mind bringing up the rear and making sure everyone is sent down safely?"

[Lellowyn]

Lellowyn eyes the crowd from beneath the edge of her hooded cloak as she follows Silvamir and offers up some playful boasting.

"Odds are that after we take this ride down a few more times, there'll be no treasure or adversaries for anyone else to deal with."

[Poor William Woodholm]

Will agreed to be last, and stood at the well's lip offering a hand to Francesca and then to Rory.

PM to our DM

[Rorry]

"That's the great thing about treasure. There's always more somewhere."

[Kilain Gravendak]

"aye Silvamir, aye that I am. Hurrrrrrrm Ill be taken point then and boys better be placin yur bets on me, or i may give ye a taste of me Hammer." he says this with a growl and a wink at Silvamir

He moves up so he can take his position in the 'saddle' and readies himself

[DM Illithid]

The party makes their way into the depths of the Underhalls. The Yawning portal is barely audible near two hundred feet above your heads. Lights at the ready, Kilian takes point to check the only exit from the small sandy floored room you occupy.

William comes into view, lowered slowly on a wooden platform. There appears to be an abrupt jerk on the platform and williams falls the final ten feet. Caught unawares, he falls headfirst. And appears unconscious for all intents and purposes.

[PM to William and Lellowyn.]

[Kilain Gravendak]

Kilain growls and stands ready in the entrance to the room. "Francesca? can you check Will out? otherwise, be ready for a trap everyone....hrrrrrm"

[Rorry]

Expecting trouble, Rorry backs into the shadows and attempts to hide. She draws her weapon and looks around for anybody or anything.

[Lellowyn]

"Oh dear..."

Lellowyn looks between Will and the platform that had lowered him. She tries to peer up into the shaft to see what may have happened.

"Do you see anything darling?" she queries her familiar.

Nyx studies her closely for a moment, puzzled about something. After a moment, he looks up, searching the darkness with his keen eyes.

[Silvamir Grymm]

Summoning his blade to his hand, Silvamir assumes a defensive posture beside Will. "There's only two ways into or out of this chamber," the elf says. "Kilain, you keep your eye on the exit. I'll watch the well shaft. Everyone stay alert."

[DM Illithid]

[Darn clerics, always sleeping on the job]

Francesca crouches in anticpation of an attack. Seeing none, she makes way to their fallen comrade. A few slaps on the cheek and William awakens, a bit dazed for fall. Francesca looks him over and shrugs her shoulders in silent admission that nothing appears wrong. "Knocked his head when he fell is all."

[Poor William Woodholm]

Poor Will was out only a moment but it left him somewhat unmanned, touching his face and staring. “Ah gods… What’s this? My head is split. Gods... What damned place… Lellowyn? Grymm? What is this?”

[Silvamir Grymm]

Poor Will was out only a moment but it left him somewhat unmanned, touching his face and staring. ?Ah gods? What?s this? My head is split. Gods... What damned place? Lellowyn? Grymm? What is this??

"You took a nasty spill out of the well shaft," Silvamir says, gazing up into the shaft to determine if the platform had moved at all since Will's fall. "Do you remember what happened up there? It's not like you to just...slip."

Gazing around the room, Silvamir nods in the direction of the exit, where the dwarf vigilantly stands guard. "That's the entrance to the Underhalls. Are you alright to walk? Or do you need a moment?"

[Poor William Woodholm]

Will made it to his feet but looked shaky still, and sour and a little wild. “It’s a horror, bringing a fainted man here under the mountains. For what? I’d rather you left me; let me sleep the spirits off. Ahh… I think I dashed my brains,” said he and clutched his head and stared at Grymm reproachfully. “Well let us go and be done with it."

[Lellowyn]

From craning her neck to peer up the shaft, she moves over and looks down at Will.

"Too much to drink last night then hmm? Just how am I to take advantage of you if you're too lost in spirits to be of use?"

It's hard to judge whether she's entirely serious or not, but her face is deadpan as she helps him to his feet.

"Honestly, with that jerky contraption they've got rigged up, I'm surprised more ill-fated adventurers haven't fallen to their deaths here."

After a bit as they walk along, Lellowyn seems to remember something and starts to rummage through her pack for something. Looking satisfied as she finds what she's looking for, a little more rustling reveals the blank book they had found previously on the body of one of the monks.

"I almost forgot," Lellowyn bursts. "I was testing some minor magics on this tome late last evening, I think I may have an idea on how to find out what it's hiding."

She takes on a wise and self assured air, somewhat superior. This aura is not unfamiliar when dealing with wizards of some power who know what they're talking about. Continuing at a lower volume, as if sharing a secret, she nods smartly and says, "I took the time to prepare a spell that should do the trick of unlocking its riddle."

[Rorry]

Rorry pops back into view. "Oooh! A magic trick. Whatcha gonna do?"

[Silvamir Grymm]

?It?s a horror, bringing a fainted man here under the mountains. For what? I?d rather you left me; let me sleep the spirits off. Ahh? I think I dashed my brains,? said he and clutched his head and stared at Grymm reproachfully. ?Well let us go and be done with it."

With a roll of his eyes, Silvamir shakes his head, disgusted. "I had hoped the fall might have knocked some sense into you," he says. "You knew we were coming down here at dawn's break. Perhaps next time you'll practice a little more restraint."

Seeing Lellowyn pull the book from her pack, Silvamir turns his attention to her, watching closely but saying nothing.

[Lellowyn]

After pausing for effect, she whirls her hands, speaks a few arcane words, and casts her spell at the book. After all the hubbub, she really hoped this worked.


[PM Illithid]

[DM Illithid]

[casting dispel magic d20+9]

The book, devoid of aura or content raises into the air at Lellowyn's bidding. A cascade of light falls as though peeling back a layer of parchment. Moments after completing her spell, the book has been replaced by a stout wooden staff and a scroll. Both of which defy the concept of gravity as you know it and glide into Lellowyn's hands.

[Good use of a cantrip for effect, BTW. Loved that.]

[Lellowyn]

"Ah-ha, it seems I was correct."

Lellowyn leans her previously held staff against a wall and tests the weight of the new one. She nods with satisfaction and unrolls the scroll to see what it contains.

[Silvamir Grymm]

"Ah-ha, it seems I was correct."

Lellowyn leans her previously held staff against a wall and tests the weight of the new one. She nods with satisfaction and unrolls the scroll to see what it contains.

"Correct?!" Silvamir asks, not sure of what to think of the woman's trick. "What the hell did you do? I thought we needed the book? Explain yourself, woman."

[Poor William Woodholm]

Poor Will stared at Silvimir. He was now left in such a state of confusion that he could not interrupt to explain himself, and so only licked his lips dumbly. Nothing, it seemed, would reconcile him to his affairs, and the lady Lellowyn’s magic trick was stranger still and this startled and annoyed him.

The route forward, at least, was clear. So, without remark, Will drew a sword and went on.

[Lellowyn]

Lellowyn eyes Silvamir a bit coldly.

"We didn't know anything about the book, darling. Until now. What exactly did you think we needed it for? Perhaps we needed it for this, see what you can make of it."

She hands the scroll to Silvamir and takes up her original staff, falling in behind William as she examines the new one.

[DM Illithid]

Silvamir unrolls the scroll to find a half dozen parchments, each with a clearly defined pathway through a maze of corridors and rooms. It appears, to the naked eye, to be a map of respectable detail to a room somewhere deep in the Underhalls.

[Awfully convienant, isn't it?
I'll be a bit slow on responding this week. Death in the family.]]

[Rorry]

"Oooh! Let me see." Rorry takes a look at the map and traces it to the destination. "I can find that, easy. Let me go ahead, I wouldn't want anyone to get hurt stepping on traps or nothing." Rorry slips into the shadows and quietly follows the path outlined on the map. She takes time to look for any traps.

Search and spot - 12 Move silent and hide - 17

[DM Illithid]

[Unless I hear otherwise, I'll have Rory lead the party through the Underhalls based on the map. Any objections or preparations I should know about? It's a three day journey. I'll skip over some easy combat and stop when something kewl happens.]

[Francesca]

Francesca prepares for the trip.

"So where does the map say we go?"

[Silvamir Grymm]

"Oooh! Let me see." Rorry takes a look at the map and traces it to the destination. "I can find that, easy. Let me go ahead, I wouldn't want anyone to get hurt stepping on traps or nothing." Rorry slips into the shadows and quietly follows the path outlined on the map. She takes time to look for any traps.

Silvamir gives up the maps, not wanting to dampen the halfling's enthusiasm. He was comfortable enough with maps, but the halfling clearly had a passion for them. "I'll follow behind you," Silvamir says. "Stick to the shadows and avoid disturbing any tracks. Don't get too far ahead. We don't want to get separated down here."

Using his flaming sword as a torch, Silvamir heads into the tunnels, gesturing for the others to follow. Occasionally he stoops down to examine a set of tracks or anything that might appear unusual.

[Poor William Woodholm]

After he was reminded, William waited for the others to pass by, so that he might follow at a short distance and guard their backs.

Spot +13, Listen +5, Move Silently +12 (with -5 penalty for rate of speed). Short sword defender drawn, its +1 applied to my AC.

[Lellowyn]

Lellowyn falls behind to take up the rear of the group, carrying a staff in each hand, using them as walking sticks.

[DM Illithid]

[OOC. Enjoy.

The two men did not watch the party directly, preferring to note their absense more than their presence. They waited a time most appropriate for their quarry and paid their tab with the barmaid.

Few noticed them rise from their table and all but one noticed their spells of invisibility take hold. Durham was hardly surprised to see two gold coins drop on the lip of the well as the invisible pair lept into the well. Show offs he thought.

It was a few minutes before a lone figure approached Durham with a gold coin of her own. The woman facial lines were truly beautiful, though her pug nose and dark eyes spoke of a heritage she was perhaps unaware of.

She allowed Durham to lower her to the sandy floor of the entrance before checking the floor for signs of tracks. Follow the adventurers, ensure their safety, easier said than done.

If someone were to be present, they would witness an odd transformation as the dark eyed beauty spreads her wings and begins flight down the hallway in search of her quarry.

Oddly enough, there was one present to witness the transformation. It was neither the most interesting nor unusual thing he had witnessed in his travels. He made a mental note to check up on this most interesting woman later. But then, the mad wizard of the underhalls makes many mental notes. And few of them are remembered.]

Rory at the lead and William at the rear, the party makes way through a half dozen rooms and hallways following the map in their possession. Rory is disappointed at the lack of traps and general amusement in this dungeon. She is not disappointed for long.

Her senses are sharp, and she sees her adversary before it notices her. Tempting fate, as all good halflings do, she closes in on her quarry before reporting to her companions. The room is the size of a good tavern, with bedding comprised of scrap rock where the bar should be and a fresh carcass where the hearth might be. She decided not to dwell on the carcass.

Partly because its gross. And partly because the Troll looming over it was more immediately a concern. The bedding housed two sleeping ...things... she couldn't make out for sure. A troll she could handle, a troll with pets...maybe not.

A quick return to the party was in order.

[Rorry]

Rorry heads back to the group, coming out of hiding far enough that they don't get surprised and stick her accidently. "Hey guys, I found a troll up ahead. He seems to have some pets. I couldn't make them out to be sure what they are." She starts looking through her equipment to see if she had anything useful for hurting trolls.

[Silvamir Grymm]

"Hey guys, I found a troll up ahead. He seems to have some pets. I couldn't make them out to be sure what they are." She starts looking through her equipment to see if she had anything useful for hurting trolls.

"Trolls..." Silvamir mutters. "Foul, wretched enemies of nature. May there destruction be swift and final. Remember," the ranger continues. "Trolls have regenerative powers. We'll want to burn the remains right away...as soon as the deed is done. Has anyone a bottle or two of oil? Or a vial of alchemist's fire?"

"Rorry? Are you certain they were pets and not other trolls? Trolls tend to travel in groups...though there are exceptions of course."

[Lellowyn]

"Trolls should not be a problem, pets or not. Let us continue."

[Poor William Woodholm]

Will passed to the head of the party, only looking over his shoulder once - towards the lady Lellowyn. He might have smiled if not for his agitation and sore skull. Lastly, he goosed Kilain, “Rush to my rescue as soon as it’s begun. The way a troll bellows – you’ll hear.” Then he crept ahead, not as casually as their thief but almost as softly.

Move silently +17 Hide +15. Surprise round? Or else Init +9. If I can I'll sneak attack the closest "pet" - Cold iron shortsword +1 Attack: +10/+5; Damage: 1d6+1 +2d6; Crit: 17-20/x2. And off-hand, Defender Attack +9; Damage 1d6 +2d6; Crit 17-20/x2.

[Rorry]

Rorry slips into the shadows and follows William. He was going to need her help. She just tries not to get too close. Luck was not his friend.

[DM Illithid]

William and Rorry creep forward, invisible as shadows along the corridor. William moves a bit ahead of Rorry - someting about longer legs. Into the room without the trolls' notice was easy enough. Approaching the stone bedding, William gets a solid view of his quarry.

[PM to William, lemme know if you're still going for the sneak attack.]

[Poor William Woodholm]

Squating where he was, Poor Will could not hesitate long. Likely he was rooted to the spot by his fear - by unsteady legs and shortness of breath. He twisted the hilts of his blades about, drew back a step but then lunged with a dumb, little oath.

[Rorry]

Rorry manuevers herself to the other side of Will's target. She waits until Will has it's full attention before striking.

[Silvamir Grymm]

Gripping his sword firmly, Silvamir mentally prepares himself for battle...waiting for that first cry from the darkness before charging in. "Remember..." he whispers to Francesca and Lellowyn. "Trolls hate fire. Choose your spells accordingly."

[Kilain Gravendak]

Kilain hefted his Maul and squatted beside Silvamir. he glanced up and grinned. "Aye Sil, they be hatin fire, but they also be hatin dwarves. Almost as much as I be hatin them. Ready when you are" he looked back, his dark vision trying to make out what the 'pets were'.

[DM Illithid]

[Sorry guys. I'm leaving for Vegas this weekend. Been focused on getting my skills up to speed.]

William slips into the room ahead of Rory, something more than a shadow. He slips into the ring of rubble toward the two sleeping beasts. He recognizes them all too well and takes time to ensure the first will die before the second awakes. With a well placed blow of the sword, the first cockatrice dies.

The second awakes, the troll bellows and initiative begins.

[Initiative Round 1 - Can't find my character sheets, so I'm making this up. Be sure to give me your attack and damage modifiers in your post

Rorry
William
Troll
Kilain
Silvamir
Lellowyn
Cockatrice #2
Francesca

Rorry is up, Troll and cockatrice are flat footed until their turn.]

[Rorry]

Rorry decides the ugly rooster must go first. She sneaks up on it and attacks.

(Rapier +10/+5 18-20x2 1d4+3, dagger +11 1d3+3 19-20x2 sneak attack 5d6)

[DM Illithid]

(Rapier +10/+5 18-20x2 1d4+3, dagger +11 1d3+3 19-20x2 sneak attack 5d6)

Rory, coming in just after William, is in position to draw her blades and skewer the giant rooster. Which squalks in response before dying.

As an afterthought, she tosses her dagger into the troll, hitting him.

Its from this angle she recognizes the rubble as broken statues of hapless adventurers. Better lighting might have provided this detail earlier. Oh well.

[rapier 8+10=18 vs AC 14 (threat, 15+10=25 critical); 40 damage
dagger 13+11=24 vs AC 16 (hit); 38 damage

[William is up. Two dead cockatrices lie at your feet. A troll is...oh...15 feet away and flat footed.]

[Poor William Woodholm]

Privately he blessed Rory, who'd like as not saved his life, and at the same time he shuffled two or three steps forward, holding one sword before him and guarding his middle with the other.

If I can, a 5’ move to place myself between Rory and the troll while still trying to keep my distance from it (to avoid a full attack). Ready action, full attack upon a rush. (Adjusted for a defensive stance.) AC 22. Cold iron shortsword +1 Attack: +6/+1; Damage: 1d6+1; Crit: 17-20/x2. And off-hand, Defender Attack +5; Damage 1d6; Crit 17-20/x2.

[DM Illithid]

[My bad for the long delay. Still recovering from sleep deprivation over the weekend. Highlight of the weekend is me giving relationship advice to a NYT Best Selling author. I even have a shameless photo.]

The troll, not the least bit happy to be cut to ribbons with the dagger of a halfling survey's the situation. On one hand, a mere human and a halfling are not match for a troll. On the other hand, both his pets are dead and the gash in his side suggests the duo can deal more damage that he might suspect.

Shame trolls aren't that bright.

The troll bellows and charges william. The result of which is a unconscious, though still living troll.

[shortsword 11+6=17 (hit) 3+1=4 damage
shortsword 8+1=9 (miss)
rapier 17+5=22(hit; 14+5=19, critical) 4+3=7]


[Killian is up, and again. Sorry for the slow pace.]

[DM Illithid]

[Killian's taking a nap. Up next is Silvamir and Lellowyn. Troll is unconscious and regerating.]

[Silvamir Grymm]

[Killian's taking a nap. Up next is Silvamir and Lellowyn. Troll is unconscious and regerating.]

Charging ahead, Silvamir launches himself at the vile troll, his enchanted blade leading the way.

[Attack +16/11; Damage 2d8+1d6 (fire)+8; 19-20/x2 critical)

[DM Illithid]

[Attack +16/11; Damage 2d8+1d6 (fire)+8; 19-20/x2 critical)

Silvamir valiantly throws himself upon the regenerating beast, hacking limps and spilling much blood. The troll contoniues to regenerate its wounds.

[Lellowyn and Francesca are up]

[FYI, Illithid's Month o' pain continues. A weekend in Vegas with no sleep followed by wisdom teeth extraction down. Lasik and a four hour tattoo session left to go. Yeeha! Oh, and I'm writing a book. Ask me about it at GenCon.]

[Francesca]

Francesca opens up with her wand, sending four bolts of Mystra's energy into the troll.

{4d4+4}

[DM Illithid]

4 burst of light fly forth from Francesca, dismembering an arm which jumps near to the cocktrace nest in front of William and Rorry. Disturbingly, it still moves. And begins clawing its way back to the Troll...

[Lellowyn is up. You do have something with fire, right?]

[Lellowyn]

Lellowyn smiles dryly and holds a staff forth. After arching a brow and thinking better, she lets that arm drop and brings up the staff in her other hand, picturing a bloom of fire as she speaks the familiar command word.

Fireball from the Evo staff. What sort of sorceress would I be sans a few fire tricks?

[DM Illithid]

...Fireball from the Evo staff...

In her haste to eradicate the threat of a revitalized troll, Lellowyn sends a clash of fire on the beast. To accentuate her complete faith in the parties ability to survive or recover from nearly anything, she failed to warn Kilian and Silvamir of the impending explosion. Singing each of them [17 fire damage to both you gents.]

With a few prods, the trolls death is unfailingless absolute. Silvamir gives the all clear and begins looking for any loot nearby. Rorry pops in out of nowhere with a rotten cloth bag over her shoulder as though it had always been there.

[PM to Rory. And let's toss in some OOC fluff, shall we?]

The monks have long been adept at hunting quarry. Years of training have prepared them for nothing but this mission alone. It is the will of their Lady that they succeed. They followed tracks silently, using divination only twice. And then only to double check their skill.

Both times, their skill was correct. The explosion of a fireball was not unexpected. It's proximity was alarming, and magic was used to verify what they already knew.

They found their quarry. Time now to watch and wait.

A third pair of ears heard the explosion. She slowed her flight to listen intently to the empty dungeon. She must be careful not to overrun the men in robes. Their death was not her responsibility.

[Poor William Woodholm]

His allies? attacks were so much theatre, and Will watched on with a shock. Worst was the sorceress?s clumsy fire magic which wounded two of the others while they went about hacking up the near corpse. He bristled, and admonished Lellowyn as soon as it was done, ?Why hurry? Look! You?ve burned them, worse injuries than they would have got from that.? And he spoke to the others almost as harshly, ?Rory and I were done with these beasts in two two?s. Have you all lost your wits? I?m the one fell on his head. No, I say settle your nerves now or go back. And you, Master Gravendak, don?t think I didn?t spy you coming in behind the rest.?

He paced about the hovel and might have wanted to continue on complaining - his concussion had left him in a bad temper - but Rory?s bag distracted him. ?Hey, what?s in that, then??

[Lellowyn]

Lellowyn looks at Will a bit blankly, though a hint of malevolence may be glimpsed in her stare.

"My fault? Tssshh," she hisses.

"Was there truly a need to rush in there like that? I could have easily dispatched them from a distance. If you need my abilities to kill them, then give me the necessary room to do my work."

[Kilain Gravendak]

"Hrrrrrrm" muttered the dwarf as he quickly patted the flames off've his beard. "Lass, be a bit more careful with that next time. Im not as pretty wit out me Beard." He then hefted his Maul and moved about the room, poking each of the trolls and glancing to see if they had any items of worth laying about.

cursory search. Sorry I was indisposed, Had Pnuemonia that sidelined me for a bit.

[DM Illithid]

cursory search. Sorry I was indisposed, Had Pnuemonia that sidelined me for a bit.

[No problem. I'm reading with an eyepatch, a bottle of vicadin and a sore arm. It's elective surgery month.]

Kilain begins to rummage about the lair, finding a pile of swords, shield and some armour begging for his attention. No sign of gold or gems, unless the curious bag over Rorry's shoulder is a sign.

The weapons and armour are serviceable, with only a few of note. A buckler of fair craftmanship, a large metal shield polished up nicely, a mace and two swords. Each worthy of a few extra coin at market. If not some enchantment.

[Silvamir Grymm]

?Rory and I were done with these beasts in two two?s. Have you all lost your wits? I?m the one fell on his head. No, I say settle your nerves now or go back. And you, Master Gravendak, don?t think I didn?t spy you coming in behind the rest.?

Patting out the last of the flames, Silvamir pauses for a moment of prayer to his god, healing some of the more severe burns. He then places a hand upon the dwarf and does the same.

[Lay on Hands for 5hps each]

"'Rush to my rescue as soon as it?s begun.' Were those not the last words out of your mouth before moving into the troll's lair?" Silvamir replies, not appreciating the scolding. "That aside, I fear you overestimate the effectiveness of your blades against this particular foe. The wounds you inflicted were nearly healed by the time my blade had its turn."

"Indeed the only effective weapon against trolls is fire. Lellowyn, good woman, perhaps in the future you could give us all fair warning of your intent before unleashing such a spell. Looking back, this all may have gone much better had we led with the fireball from the very beginning."

[Poor William Woodholm]

Will glanced towards Lellowyn. And he frowned briefly at her before his eyes fell back upon the bag. When Grymm spoke, Will looked up this time a little more abashedly. “Ah, well, yes,” said he. “That was before they were all dead… You must agree it came off badly.” And though he made excuses his voice at least was apologetic.

Then he leaned down and kissed Rory upon her cheek. “You saved my life,” said he and meant it; but also meant to distract her while he reached around to grab at this bag she kept to herself.

Not sure? Strength check or Sleight of Hand?

[DM Illithid]

William pulls the bag from Rorry's grip, with enough resistance from Rory to tear the poorly constructed bag, dropping its contents upon the floor. Which includes some jangling coins, a nice looking dagger and a wand or fancy jeweled twig of some sort.

[Kilain Gravendak]

Kilain collects up the blades and mace as he leans his Maul against the wall. Then grabs up the armor and takes it over by the spell casters and drops the stuff into a pile at there feet. he then recovers the shields and puts them there too.

"Might be good to see whats what. Hrmmmm Thanks for the heal Silvamir."

Its then he notices what William was doing..."Hrrrm what ya got going there lad?"

[Rorry]

"That's not very nice!" Rorry starts gathering up all of the fallen loot as quickly as she can and stuffs it into her pockets.

[Silvamir Grymm]

"That's not very nice!" Rorry starts gathering up all of the fallen loot as quickly as she can and stuffs it into her pockets.

"Nor is it nice to hold out on you your friends...friends that may be asked to put their lives on the line to save your skin. Out with it Rorry. What have you got there?"

[Rorry]

Rorry's jaw drops in shock. "Holding out?! How could you say that? I was just getting everything together so we can look at it later, you know, when it's safe." A hurt look hangs on her face.

[Francesca]

Francesca watches as the others divest Rorry of the takings.

[Silvamir Grymm]

Rorry's jaw drops in shock. "Holding out?! How could you say that? I was just getting everything together so we can look at it later, you know, when it's safe." A hurt look hangs on her face.


"Riiight," Silvamir grins, stooping down to help the rogue collect the scattered booty. "I should have known that you were just looking after our own interests. Forgive me." Handing her back the dagger and some loose coins, Silvamir stands back up.

"Is everyone fit to continue on? I've still got some burns, but nothing extreme. What about you Kilain? Are you fit enough to keep going?"

[DM Illithid]

The weapons and armour are serviceable, with only a few of note. A buckler of fair craftmanship, a large metal shield polished up nicely, a mace and two swords. Each worthy of a few extra coin at market. If not some enchantment.

Kilian, seeing none of the mages take action, calls upon his own magic to detect for dweomer amoung these items. One of the gems recently fallen from Rory's sack-o-loot, the large steel shield and the mace all radiate magic of various intensity.

William takes time to scout the passway leading from here. The path on the map appears clear and free of obstacles for the next hundred feet or so before heading into another chamber. This one, quite unoccupied.

[Assuming all business here is complete...]

The party plunges further into the underhalls until a loud booming can be heard. Rory and William, ever at the helm, cringe at the noise and begin more cautiously venturing forward. Again with the boom. Every few minutes or so.

Careful observations brings the party to a very large chamber. In the center of which is a large obsidian statue of a man pointing to two metal doors leaving the room. It's with much trepidation the party stands to witness a pair of lightning bolts extend from the outstretched hand, landing squarely on the doors.

Fortunately, the map leads to the base of the statue, and not the metal doors. Rory is quick to find a lever, resulting in a door opening at the base of the rear of the statue. Inside lies a spiral staircase headed downward.

The stairs end a few flights down, ten feet from the floor of a small room.The floor is barren aside from scratch marks and stains. The walls are adorned with tapestries and books. None of which appear valuable to William's trained eye.

Rory swears when the passageway above seals itself shut. And the walls slowly begin to shake in preparation for movement. She looks down, 'Oh look. Scratch marks where the walls move inward and crush us. Oh goodie.'

The map yields little information except this room contains an exit leading to the second level. And Zai'Tan's remains.

[Rorry]

Rorry looks around quickly for a way to stop the trap or an exit out of there.

[Silvamir Grymm]

(Are we still on the stairs, ten feet from the floor? Or are we to assume that we made the leap of faith to the floor. And if we are on the stairs above, does it look like the walls could crush us here? I would think we're safe until we jump down.)

[DM Illithid]

(Are we still on the stairs, ten feet from the floor? Or are we to assume that we made the leap of faith to the floor. And if we are on the stairs above, does it look like the walls could crush us here? I would think we're safe until we jump down.)

Silvamir begins to wonder if his fearless Rogues did a thorough enough inspection before signaling the group to lower themselves to the room. With the walls appearing to move inward, this is a deathtrap for sure.

Rorry and William are quick to look for imperfections in the wall mechanism. William tries prying a dagger under the wall, for example, to no effect. Rorry focuses her attention not on the moving walls, but the tapestries. With much excitement, she points to a small image of a group of people trapped in a small room with walls closing in. [Nice spot check, btw]

The image contains four individuals. One (warrior?) in a panic, one (rogue?) cramming something under a moving wall, one (wizard?) looking at the tapestry, and one (cleric?) sitting calmly in the middle of the room in meditation.

[Poor William Woodholm]

Will already had begun to see in this room their hasty, painful deaths - bodies crushed all apart. He gave off jamming his knife in at one corner of the room as it came to seem both useless and too fearful. Instead he rushed to Rory?s side; she looked to have found some hint and was besides one of the two he wanted to keep within reach.

?Here!? he cried seeing where she pointed. ?Francesca look. This must be you! For surely this is our death scene depicted, and likely shows our salvation. Quickly, get about it. Sit and we?ll see.? Poor Will acted in kind ? helped by a long dram from his pot of ale ? and tried, thru staring more than strength of mind, to pierce some unlikely magicking.

[Silvamir Grymm]

"You're the trap expert, Rorry. What does it mean?" Silvamir asks, looking over Rorry's shoulder at the tapestry (not hard to do). "Could the picture's purpose be to draw our attention? Could the lever be hidden behind the tapestry?" Not waiting for an answer, Silvamir reaches for the tapestry and pulls it out enough to peak behind it.

[Kilain Gravendak]

Kilain harumphs and moves to the center of the room and sits crosslegged with the maul across his knees and begins to pray steadfastly to the Urlord, The Great Greybeard; Father of the Dwarves. He who took stone and gave it life. He clears his mind and begins to meditate.

[Rorry]

"No no, you got it wrong. Silvamar is supposed to panic and Francesca is supposed to look at the tapestry! I'll go shove something under the wall." Rorry searches her pockets for an appropriate item for the job and decides on a dagger. She rushes over to the moving wall and tries to stick it under neath.

[DM Illithid]

Kilain harumphs and moves to the center of the room and sits crosslegged with the maul across his knees and begins to pray steadfastly to the Urlord, The Great Greybeard; Father of the Dwarves. He who took stone and gave it life. He clears his mind and begins to meditate.

Kilain rests himself mid room, preparing for contemplation. As he closes his eyes is has the feeling that something is terribly wrong. On a whim, he looks to the tapestry. Through his study of religions, he has come to recognize the style and symbol of dozens of faiths.

It's with a wry chuckle he recognizes the human god of mischief's symbol cleverly disguised amoung the outline of the tapestry. It is to this diety he prays first, and the dwarven lord second.

The walls, meanwhile, have begun closing in, pushing the party closer to Kilian's seated position. It is when the room has contracted to a mere ten feet that the floor gives way, dropping the party a few feet before magic takes hold and they float gently to the floor of a large chamber.

The sound of two stone wall grinding together can be heard in the distance above.

The party stands upon a pyramid in a dimly lit chamber of indeterminate size. A slain dog-like monster lays at the entrance to the pyramid. Stone steps lead to a floor perhaps thirty or forty paces down. There is no immediate sign of danger.

[Silvamir Grymm]

"No no, you got it wrong. Silvamar is supposed to panic and Francesca is supposed to look at the tapestry! I'll go shove something under the wall." Rorry searches her pockets for an appropriate item for the job and decides on a dagger. She rushes over to the moving wall and tries to stick it under neath.

Silvamir picks himself up and dusts himself off. "I don't panic," he says to Rorry. "My training has made that impossible. I am a paladin, afterall." Offering a hand to Francesca, Silvamir takes a casual look around. "What is this place?"

[Poor William Woodholm]

Will was careful not to lose his ale pot while suspended in air. "I've had fever dreams were more pleasent," said he, dropping a little roughly on to his ass. He took a hard draught and, from his seat, marveled at the darkness above them.

"I thought you were a respectable woodsman like myself?"

[Kilain Gravendak]

"aye. and thats how its done..." he chuckles deep in his beard. He walks around the Pyramid studying the stonework carefully and then looks around .

[DM Illithid]

"aye. and thats how its done..." he chuckles deep in his beard. He walks around the Pyramid studying the stonework carefully and then looks around .

Oddly enough, the pyramid base is pure dwarven design. Large blocks, moved with precision and finesse. Ending with a flat base. Not a common dwarven design but highly defensible with plenty of visibility.

Atop the flat base was erected a newer structure finishing the pyramid off to a point with a walking ledge around it. It is to the entrance of this structure the carcass of a canine rests. Kilain is a bit puzzled to speculate on the craftsmanship. Noone builds stone this perfectly. And no dwarf would soil the original structure with this odd addition.

And yet, inside is the supposed resting place of Zai'Tan. Though the map is a bit sketchy how a large tomb may be hidden inside what is at best a small tavern sized structure.

William, ever the alert one, is quite certain he heard a noise about the time Kilian came to conclusion no dwarf built the addition. Hearing it again he would best describe not as a noise chance heard twice. More like a constant noise coming into range twice. With the occassional change in pitch.

Dogs. Quite a few of them. Possible coming closer, though which direction is anyone's guess.

[Kilain Gravendak]

"Ahhh Good stonework this " he taps the side of the pyramid...but gestures with the maul to the top of the structure...."But that is foreign. No dwarfe in his right mind would have done that bit of shoddy workmanship..."

Then when William looks about muttering 'Dogs', Kilain glances at the dogs corpse on the ground and says loudly..."Defensive positions, Backs to the pyramid door. Rory, watch the entrance while we fight, see if you can figure out how to get in and if its safe. Sil, Will left and right of me. Ill take the point. Ladies, left and right of Rory. "

He moves about 10 feet away from the door, Maul in hand and He mentally dismisses the Silence spell he had prepared that morning for a cure Moderate, which casts upon himself to repair the residual damage from the trolls.

2d10 +6

Then he grins and says..."Lettum Come" hefting the Maul in both hands he readies..

[Francesca]

Francesca, holding Silvamir's hand, draws a wand from her belt and waits in anticipation of having to discipline a few puppies.

[Poor William Woodholm]

Will did not stand, only waved his feet in front of him - and hoped to make do with this show of support. “We have time left for leisure. The pack is still out of sight, so a ways off; and arriving they must charge these forty stairs – which I can hardly believe unless there’s a whip at their backs. Even if I’m proved wrong Lellowyn will kill them all before they’re up; won’t you my dear?”

“Or better I can hide us,” said he and reached an arm through his friends’ legs and spoke a few quiet words and made to cross himself but without putting his ale pot aside. And though anyone would expect a prayer so poorly begun, said by a man of this sort, must fall upon deaf ears, some god – and Will was never sure which – took pity and granted them their boon.

Hide from Animals cast over the party

[DM Illithid]

[17 points to Kilian from the cure mod wounds.]

Still a bit off, but the baying of hounds grows steadily louder. Rory takes her time to look over the stone entrance to the pyramid. It's a puzzle lock. No difficultly at all. She thinks. She pulls a few tools out of a pocket far too small to hold them and begins checking runes, crevices and a few imperfections in the unknown construction looking for a way past the door.

William's spell goes into affect, hopefully subverting an attack from the oncoming hounds. One only hopes hounds of the Underhalls react like hounds of the surface. This is new territory for William.

[You have 2-3 rounds before the hounds are visible. If anyone has anything time consuming to complete, lemme know. In the meantime, let's check on our pursuers OOC.

The elder is non reactive to the bolts of lightning as the younger looks for the door into the statue. The elder sniffs the air absent mindedly. Oddly enough, he'd been here once before in his younger years. Quite a few riches beyond one of the metal doors constantly struck by the lightning in his recolection. And quite a painful death through the other.

The younger activates the door and the pair descend into the small room below. The elder smelled not only the ozone of recent lightning, but a faint...something. Something he noticed upon their arrival as well. Nothing to take action on, but something to note.

Somethign unknown watched as the pair entered the statue before taking her more human form and following. She reached the bottom of the stairs as the door began to close. And against her better judgement, dropped into the room empty of anything save two invisible men.

She sniffed the air, looking to the moving walls with some distress. 'Lovely then.' Looking over the tapestries, she found the same image as Rory. But in frustration, did not see the holy symbol to which she should pray.

The invisible pair likewise missed their clues. Seeing a possible ally, the eldest ended his invisibility. 'It would appear we have a fate to share. Hold my hand.' In any other situation, the woman would hardly take assistance from a man she had clearly been following. But the size of the room and her options of surviving it grew smaller by the moment.

The monk held not only her hand but the hand of another still under the guise of invisibility. She noted his words clearly as he spoke and was unsurprised when this room vanished and another appeared, mid combat no less.

The eldest smiled, 'We are early.']

[Silvamir Grymm]

[Sorry for my recent absence. It was unavoidable.]

"I thought you were a respectable woodsman like myself?"

"A respectable woodsman, yes," Silvamir says. "Though perhaps that is where the similarities stop," he adds with a scowl directed at Will's ever-present alepot. "I was trained as a woodsman before I was enlisted into the service of Hoar."

When the dwarf relates his assessment of the structure before him, Silvamir nods in understanding.

But when it becomes quite obvious that a pack of dogs...or something perhaps more vicious...may be approaching, he shakes his head.

"Do as Kilain says," he says. "If Will's deception works, fine. But if it does not, let us be ready for a fight." The warrior gives Francesca's hand a gentle squeeze before releasing it to draw his sword. "Everyone stay close," he says, moving into position beside the dwarf. "Rorry, keep working on that lock. We'll cover your back."

[Rorry]

Rorry continues working on the puzzle. "Just imagine all the treasure that must be in here!"

[DM Illithid]

[FYI, I'm in San Francisco over the weekend. I'll give you guys until tonight to make any last minute arrangements and begin the encounter before I leave. If any of you are in San Fran, lemme know. Coffee's on me.]

[DM Illithid]

[Wow. Normally when I give a few rounds to prepare for combat I get ridiculous preparations for no big deal. I must be slipping.]

The chamber your in is very large with only a hint of the far walls on two sides, suggesting a rectangular room. Illumination is dim and coming from a series of round orbs floating in the distance above you. No sign of the ceiling, although you certainly fell from somewhere. The baying of hounds continues until the first of the pack comes into view.

Rory continues her attempt to unlock what appears to be a physically and magically sealed door via some kind of puzzle or physical riddle. She's making good time and slowly forming some kind of symbol on the door. Silvamir looks over the map one last time, happy to see the pyramid is the last room before entering the resting ground of Zai'Tan. Lellwyn looks absent mindedly at the dead dog near the door, a glimmer of recognizition in her eyes. [PM to the lady]

[Noone mentioned getting ranged weapons at the ready, if someone had a bow and a readied action to shoot, lemme know.]

As the hounds enter view their baying grows more fierce. Half a dozen hounds emerge, each exceptionally large though still distinctly canine. The Baying seds a cold chill down your spine. [Which would require a will save if it weren't for the foresight of a Paladin and his aura of courage.] At approximately the 120' mark is when your defensive stance shifts from confident to something akin to unsure.

The hound leap one by one from their groundly pursuit and take to the air, headed directly towards the party. Also at roughly this time comes into view the houndmaster in all of his clearly draconic glory. 'Aye boys, gonna be a feast for us this eve.' The dragon is not a large member of his species but is larger than any of the party. He is very sleek, very dark and very intelligent.

[recap, 6 flying dogs at 60 feet, one size M dragon with an english accent at 120 feet. Initiative, round 1.


William
Silvamir
Dragon
Rorry
Francesca
Hounds
Lellowyn
Kilain
Unannounced newcomers

William is up.

OOC, The unannounced newcomers will arrive next round to aid or hinder the encounter. The hounds have DR/silver. I will assume you weapon is NOT silver unless stated otherwise.]

]

[Poor William Woodholm]

Scarce were the hounds in view and Will was up on to his feet with bow drawn, turning his pot over in his fear and hurry. And, despite all his antics, his would have been the first shot - but the one thought that held him. “Grymm, we can close on their master, you and I. I have the magic. I can bring your lady as well. But can Master Kilain hold the line himself?”

Move/draw. Hold standard action for Silvamir.

[Lellowyn]

Lellowyn takes a position off to the side of the group (perhaps 15 feet away), not trusting in William's spellmanship once she is able to see exactly what they are dealing with.

She stands quite calmly, weighing the magical options of her staves as if the stored spells had a mass all their own.

[Silvamir Grymm]

?Grymm, we can close on their master, you and I. I have the magic. I can bring your lady as well. But can Master Kilain hold the line himself??

"Leave Francesca here," Silvamir says. "I don't want to leave Kilain vulnerable. They'll be hard pressed to keep the dogs at bay while Rorry works on the portal."

"Can you bring us back once the door is opened?"

[Kilain Gravendak]

Kilain takes a step back putting his back to the doorway and the lowered set the Maul behind him on the ground, shifting his shield to the front, and drawing his Warhammer....If he was going to hold a tighter line, hed better be ready for magical Creatures.

"Francesca, stay next to Rory, and keep those cures ready lass. Hrrrm Go On Sil, Take the fight to the Huntsman, Ill hold the line!"

[Poor William Woodholm]

I've reconsidered.

[DM Illithid]

[Silvamir holds action to confer with Poor William. Dragon is up.]

The Dragon continues a full wing glide behind what appears to be his personal pack of hounds. 'I dare say, Glorious morning for a hunt. Ah, the quarry has assembled. Splendid!' He continues speaking in his odd accent, but the language turns from the Chondathan language to which you are accustomed into something gutteral, feral and downright sinister. Not spellcasting per se, but generally not a good sign.

[Anyone speak Abyssal?]

Undeterred, the dragon swoops in line with and slightly ahead of the pack as he begins a deep inhalation of breath, ending with a cone of causic and acidic smoke bellowing from his mouth onto the party at large. Followed by additional words in the unknown tongue. Possibly commands to his pack. His flight begins to veer as though he intends to leave the forray the following turn.

[breath weapon, cone of acidic gas. 36 damage. I'll denote on initiative who took full damage vs half. If anyone is resistant or immune to breath weapons or acid, please let me know.]

[recap, 6 flying dogs at 60 feet, one size M dragon with an english accent airborne at 30 feet. Initiative, round 1.


William, no damage
Silvamir, 36 damage
Dragon, no damage
Rorry, no damage
Francesca, 36 damage
Hounds, no damage
Lellowyn, 18 damage
Kilain, 36 damage
Unannounced newcomers, no damage

Rorry is up.]

[Rorry]

Rorry curses as she rolls out of the way of the dragon's breath. She looks up at the dragon and curses again, this time at her lack of foresight for the need for a bow. She ducks into the shadows off to the side, drawing her little rapier and waits for the first thing stupid enough to get in her reach.

[DM Illithid]

Dimension Door with Grymm to (if possible) a position flanking the dragon.

[You posted while I was typing. My apologies for not stating the airborne nature of the dragon more explicitly. I'll assume you delayed your action until after the Dragon's initiative. Would you like to dimension door atop the beast?]

[Silvamir Grymm]

[You posted while I was typing. My apologies for not stating the airborne nature of the dragon more explicitly. I'll assume you delayed your action until after the Dragon's initiative. Would you like to dimension door atop the beast?]

Silvamir steels himself against the vicious attack, but it is clear that it's taking everything he can muster just to stay on his feet. Firmly gripping his sword in his right hand, he reaches for the wand in his belt with his other. He seems to breathe slightly easier as he activates the healing energy of the wand upon himself.

[Activate CLW Wand on myself]

[Kilain Gravendak]

Kilain grunted as the gout of acid touched him...he felt the ire rising and prepared, shield in one hand, magical warhammer in the other. he would sell himself with great cost if these beasts thought a member of clan gravendak would go down without a fight.

"Rory, Francesca fell, Its all I can do to watch ye back wee lass. Carry on with the lock and leave the fighting to me."