Re: Chapter Four

[Custer Thickett]

Cuss stares into Duhrz with a searing hate matched only in timbre by that which flows from the conflicted emotions he had about his father's decision.  At first he focused on staying his hand by convincing himself the Orc had something he needed, but as the thirst for vengeance dried his eyes, it was the burning weight of Waukeen's amulet on his chest, Her amulet, that MIGHT save the Orc's life.  

That, and the timely placement of a hand upon his shoulder.

This one was clever, he thought.  He'd grown up thinking that the minds of Orcs were barely more sophisticated than that of pack of wolves, but in recent weeks he'd come to know far more about them than he ever cared to ask for.  They had a distinct culture, sense of honor, and a clever whit.  Yet, they were easily manipulated.  That is what made them so dangerous.  

What wasn't weapon worthy?  He thinks me daft, yeah?  

Faster and easier?  Well, that's a shred of truth...

Holes two fingers wide?  Cuss glances to the brass door, thinking of the Orc's they'd killed outside.  That could be userful...

When the Orc proposed that prisoners from Esmeltaran died here, Cuss believed it a threat.  Only having just finished the thought, his vision flashed white and red.  Through the veil he could see the Orc's blood pulsing through veins snaking up it's neck.  Veins easily lain open by a quick flick of a wrist holding a sharp blade.  

Cuss looked at the cages.  He needed to know if it was a lie, but the piles of bone and rotted flesh seemed melted together in their decay.  He could not tell one from another without approaching them for closer inspection.  He had time.  They were not going anywhere, yet.  

The Orc seemed to sense that it's words had finally struck a target, and it pressed on, claiming the Ogres would smash the fellowship.  Cuss quivered as he asked upon the location of Grol.  The name of the chieftain flowing from his lips as sharp as the blade creeping beneath his thoughts, begging to be put to use.

But Grol was not at the camp, he was was with Kesian in the tower.  One of two towers.  Two targets.  Two deaths.  Cuss looked down at his waist, eyeing the stocks of Olc and Maith.  Two quarrles.

Cuss looked again at the cages.  He thought he saw what could be the leg bone of a child.  Agatha's holy amulet of Waukeen screamed in sorrow as he realized the Orc's words might be true.  Probably were true.  Sothis left behind a river of blood to follow him here.  A river we could have followed.  We didn't.  No, we took to the sea.  The long current that carried me away from home.  Away from my sister.  Away...  

He reached for K'Tesh's old bow.  It would only take a second or two.  He had only one more question for Duhrz...

"Where you at Esmeltaran?

......
[OOC: I've always liked the idea of a heroic psychopath that can barely keep his shit together if it were not for the watchful eye of his friends.  Osvald, would you like to keep Cuss from murdering Duhrz? Artimus?

I would prefer if the new characters do not stay his hand as Cuss would probably lose his shit if you tried.  We just met.  Also, you wouldn't know the significance of the question 'Where you at Esmeltaran?'  ;^) ]
......

He relayed the information gathered from Duhrz to Artimus as best he could, and the Captain moved on to tatics and traps.

"Might be it would.  Mayhaps we can do something to keep them from ever coming back in the temple, yeah?  We left a few good Orc bodies outside.  Me thinks I can dress them up a little, with a nice two finger hole in the head, and might be the Orcs will expect their other enemy."

"Might be we can also paint a warning of sorts on the brass door in Orc blood, yeah?  Something they can read, something that strikes a fear into them that they'd only step into this blasted temple in force and with a leader.  Be it Kurn, or if the Goddess be so good, Kesian himself."

"Mayhaps them we can spring a trap of sorts..."

Cuss thought of K'Tesh, and he looked at the dark iron gate.  "Or they can, no?"

Cuss looked at Artimus, and his hin eyes went wide.  He recanted something somebody once said that Artimus did not recognize.  Mayhaps the only one among them that would is Osvald, being in the dark alley with him that night before Esmeltaran burned.

Eye of Cyric. The forsaker of Lolth. The knife in the dark that creeps unseen beneath the underskirts of Esmeltaran..”  He turns back to the Iron gate, and winks at the darkness beyond.

[Custer Thickett]

[Rolling to disguise the Orc bodies outside the temple as it they were killed by two inch holes in their head.  He'll patch or cover other obvious wounds.  Maybe leave a few Cockatrice feathers just for fun.  +5 deception +2 disguise kit.  I'd probably use some tools from my other kits though, like the hammer and crowbar, so lets say +2 'kits'.]

14 ehhhhhhhh

[DiceMaster]

The member 'Custer Thickett' has done the following action : Dice Roller

'D20' : 7

[Ao]

The Brass Temple is silent, but for the sounds of Kellar dragging barricades into place, and leveraging iron bars against the enormous set of doors.

Custer slips back in through the cracks, just as the dragoon finishes his preparations. The halfling takes one last look back at the orcs he’s field dressed to the specifications of the jailor.

Not your best work, to be sure. Passable, perhaps.

No matter. Too late now.

The doors groan into place, and you feel your muscles begin to relax as serenity settles into your bones…

[…]

As the fellowship begins to rest themselves, Dwan looks into the polluted pool…

[Nature check;]

It is clear that the temple was constructed over the river and waterfall visible from the cavern exterior. The orcs, perhaps, were the ones to bore a hole in the floor, creating an access to the fast-moving waterway.

The poison, therefore, is not isolated. It has already flowed downstream and into the water supply. As Emelious approaches alongside the dwarf, he can see the same.

Purification of this water system will only be borne out over time. For now, it is not potable.

[…]

Pimli stares into Dwan’s infection, trying to discern if he’s seen anything of its’ sort before.

The answer, unequivocally, is no.

However…

[Arcana;]

Pimli has seen arcanic curses before, and on the spectrum, it is clear that this infection has rooted itself deeply in Dwan’s body. Dark magic pours out of his flesh, repelled only by the antibodies in the serum that he consumes. And those antibodies appear to be weakening…

It is clear that only a considerably powerful arcanist, with a very narrowly rare discipline, will be able to treat this curse.

[…50 minutes later]

Your wounds smart.

Without adrenaline to numb your pain, the persistent and nagging cuts, gashes and bruises from the days past all seem to aggravate at once.

The orcs sit sullenly in their cage, eyeing you fatalistically.

It is hard to get comfortable.

Your mind drifts around the room…such an enormous temple. Once, it might have been a place of beauty. The architecture is careful, not crude. And the dim brass surfaces were surely cared for, once. Dingy as they are now, a disciplined curator could surely polish this place back into splendour.

But the stink of death. That, would be hard to erase.

*SMASH*

You leap to your feet unwittingly, as the sound of an enormous thud echoes out across the chamber. The door rumbles, braced by Kellar’s defences.

*SMASH*

It happens again.

Something is butting the large brass doors, deigning to enter.

You approach quietly, cautiously…A muffled voice shouting…

“NERGUHLL!?”

*SMASH*

It calls out once more, in orcish.

“ARGHUST MARG HUR HUR. RAGA DOR DARROG!"

[["THE POISONER MUST BE DEAD. RAM THE DOORS!”]]

*SMASH*

=============================

Ok guys, looks like the party is over.

You’ve barely been there for an hour (short rest, granted) and someone is hammering at your doors. There are no available windows or anything to look out at who is there, or how many.

Looks like you’ll need to act quickly.

Opening the doors to confront?
Heading north?
What are you doing with the jailors?

-Ao

EXP: +200 for another amazing round of posting. Well, well, well done guys.

[Emelious Storm]

SMASH.

The large door rumbles as something hits it from the other side.

“That’s not a good sound…”

SMASH.

Again.

“NERGUHLL!?”

Uh-oh.

SMASH.

“ARGHUST MARG HUR HUR. RAGA DOR DARROG!"

Whatever that meant.

SMASH.

Think, think, think. Emelious looked around at the others, his eyes eventually falling on Dwan. The sight of the dwarf sparked the flicker of an idea in the Half-Elf’s mind as he began looking around at the dwarven architecture.

Hmm, could work… or at least buy us some time. Alright, let’s give it a shot.

Emelious voices a silent prayer.

This is so stupid. Moradin forgive me.

The cleric takes a deep breath, and then bellows in Dwarvish at an unnatural volume...

“BEGONE GREEN SKINS. THIS TEMPLE IS THE DOMAIN OF THE DWARVES. I MORADIN, THE DWARFFATHER, HAVE TAKEN BACK WHAT IS RIGHTFULLY MY PEOPLE’S. FLEE NOW IF YOU HOPE TO ESCAPE MY WRATH.”

[Deception (Advantage): 9 + 6 = 15]

Emelious gave an apologetic look to Dwan.

Might be enough to scare off some of the weaker ones. Here's hoping. That door isn't going to last for long...

----

[Emelious cast Thaumaturgy to make his voice boom at three times the normal volume.]

[DiceMaster]

The member 'Emelious Storm' has done the following action : Dice Roller

'D20' : 9, 6

[Artimus DeLonde]

Before
=====
========
Artimus' brow furls in concern and confusion. Instinctively he reaches out grabbing the friendly looking arcanist by the scruff of his shirt. He pulls him closely, not unlike the acolyte. Artimus' eyes pour over the gnome studying his face intensely. In Pimli's visage he could find no malice, not subterfuge, no ill intent. His expression was warm, with the genuine look of curiosity.

**He let Pimli go, a wave of shame rolling over him.**

"Apologies,  J'm'escuse Pimli.  That was uncalled for-" He sputtered, a tone of true contrition in his voice as he smoothed over the cloth ruffled by his grip.

He regretted his snatching of this kind and gentle man, and even more so he regretted not remaining cool an unaffected under questioning. This was not the reaction of a master tactician.

**Lowering his voice he continued,**

"It's just, what you ask touches closely home, you have to understand, in my line of work, my secrets keep me alive, yes?"

"You see more than I thought you could…”

Artimus searched for where to begin.

Perhaps he would start with the end.

"I Died"

The Moon, The Mariner and le Fin
-----------------------------
5 years ago, I was waylaying my own ship—strange I know.  A beautiful Galleon ‘Le Fin De Monde’, Stolen from me by my former handler and master, Verdi de Vecci, a powerful merchant of death and murder.

I wish I could say that I did not know his true nature, but I did, and I carried his will out for my own ends. I could see the error of my ways in the wake of my actions. The suffering I was tacitly promoting, I broke from him and his organization, but one does not simply leave his charge, not without consequences.

He took something that I leverage my very soul to get, my ship; my freedom. He took it from me, from my men.

He was afraid though- when he could not manage to have me snuffed out. He knew how far I would go to find him. What I would do to get what was mine.

There was a clash of force and wills on the open sea. It was a wild melee of sword and cannon.

My mark was Verdi, and the Fist that hung from his neck.

The Kraken's fist – The  Artifact, not the organization... a confusing juxtaposition of terms

Boarding the ship, sea spray cold in my face, my crew and I faced a swath of ruthless pirates and assassins. We fought our way through brigand and murder alike. I cut down ten men down to get to him Verdi, a man who had taken everything from me.

I would have cut down a hundred more.

Just as I reached the merchant of death, squaring off for the final confrontation, a cataclysmic cannon shot tore through the mainmast. An expert and crippling volley indeed, at an inopportune time.

Splinters of wood shot through my chest and everywhere went black.

Till that moment. I was invulnerable.

The next thing I remember was the salty wetness of the sea water, pain that lulled into warmth, and the shape of the Kraken’s fist tightly gripped in my hand. I drifted downward into the sea and away from my broken body

And then I was another place. ---

Somewhere not like this place, it was like... a black hall of faces. Then a voice I’d never heard before, a voice deeper and grittier than any man’s. It spoke in a tongue unknown to me. Then a dark winged from, pursued me. I fled for an eternity through the halls of these faces, each frozen in a different expression of horror. The effort was useless there was no escape, this thing was eternal, it ran me down and reached within me and took something...Something essential

Suddenly I was ripped back to my body. Full of the terrible pain of life, wet, gasping for air and strapped to a table. my vision returned, I could see a thatched roof, the strange woman and a gaping hole in my chest.

Zoetharra High Moonmaiden of Selûne, she was breathless, and re-splended, surrounded in light, and reciting song and verse.

She was white haired and unnaturally beautiful.

I had washed up the shore of a small island called Mineoa. Dead, Kraken's fist still in hand. Zoetharra collected my body and brought me back to this world.

She said she was waiting for me. For how long I do not know.

She said something went wrong -That not all of me came back.

She said, that someone else was waiting for me. Something that had laid in wait for me to pass from this world.

Something that still waits.

An idea that haunts me in my most private moments. Sometimes I can feel it, just behind me. Always just out of view.

There was an impass, she was not able to restore me fully. What came back was not whole, and she had to 'improvise'. She invoked an ancient ritual that breathed the light of Selûne into me. An act that tied me here, anchored to this plane by grace of  the Goddess.

A ritual normally reserved for patrons of the Our Lady of Silver- to bind them with Lady herself, her handmaidens.

Perhaps I was handmaiden now.

A physical token was also needed;

The Fist was an obvious choice.

The ritual change it too, changed its power. She told me that I was brought back for a reason. That my life serving my own ends, was over.
This wasn't a command; I could feel it deeply in my very being. Instead of raging against the machinery of this world, I could change it.

Zoetharra and Selûne took me, a broken man, seeking only his own fame and glory into her bosom and breathed life back into me. Not to make me whole, but so I may bleed, till all men breathe free, hearts soaring and souls unfettered, to end the tyranny of men.

She sees me.

For what do the men of Torril do,
When evil thrives silently pervades?
What are they going to do when the light goes out,
Without someone to guide them?
What are they going to do when the rivers overrun,
Other than tremble and die?


So born was the Kraken's fist as an organization. It started just with her and I. But it would grow. I can see the way now. I cannot just take on Verdi the man; I must stem each one that would take his place. What they stand for, to end the tyranny of merchants of death.

I can see the way now.... or at least the next step

**Artimus reached for his shirt of cloth then chain and pulled it aside revealing a black and seeping wound.**

So I bleed, for 10000 days, till the fire grows dim, till I go back to that dark place to face that demon once more.
--------------------------------

**Artimus turned from Pimli, it was past the time that they all knew more of the organization they had been inducted into.  He could sense their ears perking to the empassioned discussion. drawn too the energy in the air.**

As for the Fist, It is both a thing and an Organization. He continued holding up the token around his neck, a metal object formed in the visage of the nautical creature who bore the same name -Kraken
.
The Karken's fist is not an official trade federation, no imperial naval, not an instrument of a Crown, nation, or even one man. It undertakes directives direly needed by each and all. The fist, having the freedom to move unseen and act secretly to achieve things those in the light of the public eye can not. The laws of man are not sufficient to do Good, to stem Evil. Evil thrives inside the law, uses it, and corrupts it.

The organization is not some blind enforcer, taking any request, answering any price. There is a will, there is a system that flowed and corrected.

First and foremost we are an information network, our members benefiting from everything from news of the weather, to economic shifts to matters of dire import. We are powerful because of what we know.

There are there are actors that act and learn and share.

There are handlers, which handle follow the collect and watch.

There are pages that page and list and move.

There is the head of the Kraken who sees and decides.

There are overseers who oversea to act against corruption from within.

None are bound, all are free.


The Fist selects it's motives carefully. With the aim to bend the curve of fate toward the freedom of men. We are the others that move behind kings, and merchants and the law with a will of our own. Bending the lines of fate, with translucent threads.

We are the Fist.

And you all are --

*SMASH* - A blunt instrument punctuated his rant. Ending the discussion for now
============================

Now

*SMASH*
*SMASH* “NERGUHLL!?”
*SMASH*
“ARGHUST MARG HUR HUR. RAGA DOR DARROG!"
[["THE POISONER MUST BE DEAD. RAM THE DOORS!”]
*SMASH*

The fellowship had guests, the occupiers had come to reclaim the just liberated temple and to claim their necks.

The Mariner exchanged a few quick glances with his allies looking for a queue.

Artimus rolled to the north side of the chamber taking roost behind a pile of dead orc loaded his crossbow and waited for the gate to give way to their brutish ferocity.

In the moments before he door gived way Artimus drew the deadly posion from his pack and coated the bolt in the chamber.

Zhese orcz  like to deal in tox-zinz and zuffering do zhey? Perhapz a tazte of their own medicine will teach them. non?

*Apply deadly poison

From his enbunkermant, Artimus heard the impossibly loud resound of Emelious.

“BEGONE GREEN SKINS. THIS TEMPLE IS THE DOMAIN OF THE DWARVES. I MORADIN, THE DWARFFATHER, HAVE TAKEN BACK WHAT IS RIGHTFULLY MY PEOPLE’S. FLEE NOW IF YOU HOPE TO ESCAPE MY WRATH.”

A clever ruse. He hoped it would work.
--------------------
==========
Ok guys wow! that was great to get off my chest, thanks Pimli for giving me that space.  Feel free to assume your characters heard any and all of that,  drawn by Artimus grabbing Pimli.  Artimus was about to tell you guys more but SMASH!
=============
During the short rest,  prior to resting Artimus surveyed some of the items in the room.
Seeing clay pots and recognizing salt peter from the blackpoweder used in cannons (assorted reagents)
Artimus packed  6 pots halfway with saltpeter and then topped them off with the assortted trinkets that were scattered around.  finally he topped the pots with their corks, and used a dagger to poke a small hole in the top and stuff it with parchment primed with latern oil (or wicks! if there are any)
Improvised  hand bombs,  (1d4+2?) or whatever you deem
======================
Artimus takes cover on the opposite side of the room (north) and readies an action.
bombcraft 14+0 int?

[Pimli Prixus]

Pimli listened to Artimus' tale life, death, and battle, hanging on every word. This man had died and he's anchored here by Selûne, that explains the slash of white, and the incorporeal image Pimli saw during his Detect Magic ritual.

Pimli grasps the Sailors arm and smiles widely up at him. "Thank you for your forth coming answer Captain, I will think on what you've told me here, and see if I can find any answers."

As the Captain called the others over to explain the inner workings of the Krakens Fist, Pimli began performing a form of relaxation and recovery that the Arch Magus taught him. Allowing him to pull in information, while thinking on multiple subjects, and restoring arcane power to himself. He pulls at a thread of the arcane energies he expended just like how Arch Magus showed him, unraveling the weave.

Dwan's curse will need the assistance of a extremely powerful caster. Perhaps the Arch Magus can help? It's been said that's he's able to perform miracles just by wishing them into existence.

He pulls on another thread feeling himself fill with the expended Arcane energies.

I will follow this Captain, I would very much like to see his story through to the conclusion. I will assist him in killing the Demon that haunts him, and hopefully make his anchor permanent. This man deserves to walk the Plane.

He pulls on the final thread of this weave, completely unraveling the remanence of the spell he had cast, pulling it all back into him.

Hmmm so the Fist isn't as much an organization as it is a group of people that wish to break ties, and end corruption, working from the shadows. They wish to govern themselves outside of Nations, and Guards. This will make an interesting study! I wonder if anyone at the School is a member? Our teachings could be of powerful use for this Fist

He sees a single thread, for a spell that did expend much energy and begins pulling it, unraveling it from existence.

Two inch holes in the head, I've heard that somewhere before. Possibly in one of Magus Harenvuul's lectures, I just can't bore into the place of my mind where that knowledge is located. I try an my Mind keeps coming up empty, I'll have to keep digging away at it, scrape every corner of my brain in search. This could be important.

[Rolling Arcana to see if I can remember any information I learned about the beasts that made those holes. d20+6=13  ]

*SMASH*

Pimli is startled out of his trance like state by the crash, he looks around for it's source

*SMASH* “NERGUHLL!?”
*SMASH*
“ARGHUST MARG HUR HUR. RAGA DOR DARROG!"
[["THE POISONER MUST BE DEAD. RAM THE DOORS!”]
*SMASH*

The Orcs have arrived, escape through the door is impossible. We can go deeper through the network of tunnels below this place, but the thought of the two inch hole in the Orcs heads is giving him pause, if only he could wrap his mind around what could of caused it.

A booming echo fills the room “BEGONE GREEN SKINS. THIS TEMPLE IS THE DOMAIN OF THE DWARVES. I MORADIN, THE DWARFFATHER, HAVE TAKEN BACK WHAT IS RIGHTFULLY MY PEOPLE’S. FLEE NOW IF YOU HOPE TO ESCAPE MY WRATH.”

Pimli turns and sees Emelious speaking the words, Nice trick, how do we make it more believable He turns to look at Dwan, and notices him slumped and still injured. Can't make him grow, it could make him a target, and we don't want to hurt the Dwarf more then he already is. Though a Giant Dwarf would be pretty funny to see.

He checks himself to be sure his Mage Armor still active, looking down he sees the blue shimmer across himself.

He smiles and runs to the center of the room close to where the Shamans workbench was located. He waves his staff in the air an say's the incantation "Noisulli edih em morf noisiv". A five foot long, three and a half foot high, three and a half foot deep stone alter shimmers into existence where Pimli once stood. From inside the Illusion Pimli laughs, the laugh of a Gnome that knows his plan will go off without a hitch. He watches the door through the foggy Illusion knowing that no one can see into his hiding spot.

===========================================================
Used Arcane Recovery to recover a first level and a second level spell slot.
Aracna of 13  to see of  I learned about what could've left those two inch holes in the Orcs heads.
Cast Minor Illusion of a Stone Alter around myself, use action to investigate the alter (investigation vs DC14) to see if it's an Illusion.

[DiceMaster]

The member 'Pimli Prixus' has done the following action : Dice Roller

'D20' : 7

[Kellar]

"Thank you Emelious. This was a hunter's tool before it became a Champion's weapon." Kellar rested and etched Kel-Q onto the Battleaxe passed onto him from Emelious. Orbaugh ate and drifted off to sleep. Kellar studied the names on the axe, and looked at his name now on it, next in line. I imagine I'm the only human to have held this weapon. I'm not its champion, it was passed onto me from Emelious. I guess a new tradition is in place.

He worked on the Battleaxe, the golden scales shimmered and flickered over his wounded shoulder. (Kellar used a hit dice= 8+4= 12) The scales eventually fell softly as he carved and cleaned the Battleaxe until it was more akin to what he felt it should be like. He rolled his shoulder once, it was working fine again. My armor needs more repair again.

The pounding on the door.

SMASH!

Kellar rose to his feet and instinctively, the golden scales returned and covered his armor. (Blade Ward used).

SMASH!

Emelious thought quickly and began bellowing about being a Dwarf-god. Pimli rose to his feet and covered himself in blue magic and stone. Stone? Where'd he go? He was just... Kellar heard the laugh of Pimli. He's still there.

"Lord's of Hale? Prepare for battle. Everyone, fall back is the door to the North if we're overwhelmed," Kellar said. He grabbed his lance with his left hand and raised his right hand and felt the cold. The air grew cold and dry, the humidity pulled from the air and forming around Kellar's hand and grew into the shape of a javelin. (Prepared Ray of Frost).

[DiceMaster]

The member 'Kellar' has done the following action : Dice Roller

'D10' : 8

[Custer Thickett]

Before resting, Cuss paced the chamber.  He inspected each cage, even bothering to turn over some of the remains to look at those beneath.  To the others, it seemed as if he were in some mad trance, looking for a lost heirloom in a pile of refuse.  He mumbled incoherently for the duration of his efforts, only stopping after regaining some presentation of reason and composure.  

She can't be here.  They were at sea.  Sothis... He flew out over the lake.  I saw it.  

Goddess, please let her be safe.  

...

[ooc: Cuss is searching the cages, looking for distinguishing features and possessions to identify halfling corpses from Esmeltaran.]

...

Cuss was half asleep from exhaustion when the thunderous pounding on the brass doors startled him to his feet in a flash.  The room was a blur in his stupor, but the doors seemed to shake in full focus.  He was ready.  The bellowing Orcish was unmistakable.  This is it...

Almost without thought, Olc and Maith were in his hands and ready to fire with two quarrels.  

He glanced to the iron gate and then to Durhz.  The Orcs were on their feet, beaming with anticipation for rescue.  More like they'll be killed for cowardice after giving up our numbers...

Cuss calls out to the others.  "Iffen we wish to make a quick exit before that door comes down, might be we need take care of the prisioners, no?  They'll tell of our number, strengths, and names, yeah?  We've friends to think of."

He'll leave that decision up to the group, or at least to another.  By now, he knew well some of the distaste others felt about his subterfuge, but questions of morality were foreign concepts to a Thickett.

Without time for deliberation, Cuss sprints to Nerguhll's vials and tools that had been gathered and inspected by the others.  He rolls up several worn parchments of Orcish poison recipes and stuffs them into his leather tube.  He slides the shiv into his belt, then throws a couple small jars and clay containers into his bag, and then skids over to the iron gate.  

[If locked]

Keeping his bows close, Cuss begins inspecting the lock.  He glances back to the temple doors and the other's position, then begins unraveling a leather pouch of tools.  He sets to work on opening it, while whispering into the dark tunnel beyond...

[If it is not]  

Cuss places his back against the wall next to the gate on the side from which it swings open, and brings his bows up to his chest ready to fire at the first thing to come through the doors.  He turns his head and whispers into the tunnel behind him...

"An enemy of me enemy is a friend, no?"

----

Plan to make a roll to unlock the gate if it is not.  

Plan to make a roll to persuade anything in the dark that can hear me to help us fight off the Orcs.  (Cuss is convinced there are Drow watching.  He's weird like that.)

Both rolls are +8. so score of either is:
15

[DiceMaster]

The member 'Custer Thickett' has done the following action : Dice Roller

'D20' : 7

[Dwan Bolduum]

Dwan looks to the doors, hearing the orcs slamming and the other side.  He moves to the other side of the room and takes out his scepter and swings it towards the barred doors.  

Roots and thorns start to grow out of the stone and line the ground surrounding the door.  As the last length of root blossoms, they all shift to the same color of grey as the ground below.

================================
Dwan casts spike growth on the ground right by the door. The growth has a 20 foot radius and is centered 20 feet away from the door, causing the 40 feet closest to the door to become difficult terrain.  Every 5 feet that any creature travels on this area will cause 2d4 damage.  Since the orcs on the other side of the door could not see the spell being cast, they would have to make a perception check of 14 or more to recognize the terrain as hazardous.

Sorry for short post, work.

Short rest hit dice used 3

[DiceMaster]

The member 'Dwan Bolduum' has done the following action : Dice Roller

'D8' : 8, 1, 8

[Ao]

Pimli's diminutive form disappears in a flash of blue, as the figure of a stone altar takes his place. The gnome looks out of his illusion, racking his brain for any insights around the skull-piercing creatures...

[arcana...pimli]

Mind flayers? Could it be? The most infamous denizens of the under dark, the illithid, were known for boring into the skulls of their victims and extracting the brain for consumption. But the jailer hadn't said anything about hollow skulls...

*SLAM*

The door buckles again, half the pile of iron cages clattering down...

Custer looks upon the mound, his mind still on his futile search.

He'd found a dozen or more halfling corpses among the dead. But none which gave him any semblance of....Rosalind. Or Lincoln, for that matter.

Kellar mans the line, watching as Artimus lines up with his stock of cumbersome homemade explosives. Dwan finishes his spell, arming the doorway with a wreath of dire thorns.

And then -

"BE GONE, GREENSKINS...."

Emelious' voice booms out explosively, the very structure of the temple shaking as the audio reverberates off of its perfectly domed countenance.

Your ears scream with the baritone echo, your drums vibrating painfully.

And when the words finally stop, none of can hear but for the high pitched squeal in your heads.

Minutes seem to tick by, as you hold, white knuckles before the door...

And finally as the ringing in your ears subsides, you see that the door has not buckled for the last five minutes. Only the sound of your shallow breath keeps you company...

+===========+============+

Ok guys...

There has not been another battering assault on the door since Emelious bellowed his warning....

You still cannot see outside the door.

Silence...

Exp: +another 100 for another great round of posts guys. Artimus, what a backstory... Thanks. Great stuff everyone.

[Emelious Storm]

As Emelious finished his promise of divine Dwarven wrath he stopped to listen; and, it seemed, so did everyone else.

Silence.

I- I can’t believe that worked... I AM A DWARVEN GOD.

Or… or not. Just a lowly Half-Elf.

Don’tsmiteme.

“Uh… we should get out of here. They may be back with a bigger force. A force big enough to take on a god. And I don’t know if you guys caught on to this, but I was lying just then.”

Emelious looks around for his pack and snatches it up, slinging it over his shoulders. Then turns towards the gate to the North.

“I know it may be dangerous, but we don’t know if the orc’s left. It may be safer to try our luck this way,”

Emelious glances towards the caged orcs.

“We should bring them with us. We can’t have them telling their friends where we’ve gone.”

Pick the pocket of a guard you’ve seen lop someone’s hand off.

Pretend to be the Dwarf god of creation.

Travel into an unfamiliar place where orcs have holes in their heads.

You’re just full of great ideas today, Emelious.

Why thank you, Emelious.

Shut up, we’re the same person.

Sorry, nervous habit.

[Pimli Prixus]

The ringing in his ears is deafening, causing him to drop the  illusion. Good thinking Emelious, but did you have to be so loud!. The ringing is almost nauseating, causing his head to pound, and his stomach to feel like heaving.

Master loud voice scary we hide Skurr tickling the back of his mind, poor little guy must be feeling the effects worse then I am. No need to hide Skurr that was Emelious, a friend

Friend hurt Skurrs ears, Pimli giggles, Yes he hurt mine too, Skurr Fly up and and keep guard from above rest on one of the hanging cages, I will be safe

Skurr go, he can feel the Raven lift off and fly up, but can't hear the beating of the wings because of this damned ringing.  It almost reminds me of the shell Magus Harenvuul would put up before lectures.

Pimli remembers.

------------------------------------------------------

Two years ago, Magus Harenvuul's Denizens of the Plane lecture

The ringing in his ears is deafening, and he feels sick at the loss. It's always this way when the anti-magic wards are set, why do that have to do this every time there is a lecture? Well he understood why, no one would listen to the lectures if they could practice the Arcane arts, but still this is a magic school!

"There now that the wards are set, we can begin" The thin elderly Dwarf began, Magus Harenvuul looks like he's traded a lot for his study. He's long gray beard is unkempt, almost looking hermit like something you would never see on a self respecting Dwarf, and he's almost as thin as a elf! None of that traditional Dwarven stoutness for Magus Harenvuul.

"Today's lecture will be on the Denizens of the Underdark. Now I'm sure we all know about the Dark Elfs or Drow. Most places have watches set for Drow raiding parties. But what most don't know about them is that Drow society is completely Governed by women. That's right, Drow men are second class citizens in there cities. They are laborers, and warrior, but it is the women, more specifically the Priestesses that rule the Drow with an Iron Fist."

He pulls down a chart from it's place on the back wall, portraying a Male and Female Drow, as well as Males and Females from several other races Pimli didn't recognize.

"Next we have the Svirfneblin or Deep Gnomes" He uses his staff to point out the two gray skinned Gnomes on the chart. "These people are they're a tricksome race, preferring to hide then fight. There great love in live is the hunt for Gems which often brings them in conflict with other Denizens of the Underdark. And they're often found, if you can find them, with Earth Elementals that they befriended both to help with the hunt for Gems and as protection against the other Underdark dwellers."

"The Duergar, this is what happens when Dwarves delve to deep." He lets out a booming laugh, that almost betrays his size "These Dwarves hunger for wealth causes them to dig deep, far to deep. They became slaves, using there mining skills to further the cause of there captors. They eventually, after many centuries won there freedom from there captors in an extremely bloody war. Now Duergar are extremely entrusting, they will wage war with anyone and anything that comes onto there land. There time of slavery didn't teach them much though, they're known to keep slaves themselves to help run the mines."

He lowers his staff from the place where the ashy skinned Dwarves were on the chart. They're the last ones on there, the lecture must be over early today!

"We have one more race to go over today. The slavers of the Duergar and the scorge of the Underdark."

Magus Harenvuul reaches up and pulls down a second chart. This one portraying a single robed figure, tall and lanky with purple rubbery looking skin, sunken yellow eyes, and a swath of tentacles where it's mouth should've been.

"The Illithid. Also known as Mindflayers. These squid like beings are master psionics. They live in colonies and are linked through a telepathic channel with there "Elder Brain". They have a thirst for knowledge, both written and remembered. If you ever run into one of these monsters you'll be lucky to escape intact. They feed on the brains of there victims, boring a two inch hole into there skulls so sucking out whats inside. It's said that they feed off of the knowledge of others."

------------------------------------------------------

Today

"Illithid", He says much to loudly, the ringing in Pimlis ears has stopped. He looks around frantic, hoping not to see a Squid faced monster walking around the room. Safe, for now. Two inch holes, Illithid, my knowledge and experiences are my own! not for a Mindflayer to eat.

There has to be a way to avoid going into the tunnels. Pimli looks around noticing everyone watching the door still. The Orcs stopped trying to ram it down, maybe Emelious's plan worked. I need to see what's on the other side of the door to be sure.

Pimli reaches into his belt pouch and pulls out a purple irised glass eye. The gem on the end of his staff pulsating, Pimli raises the glass eye and places it in front of his left eye. "Wohs em tahw si dnoyeb", his visible eye moves from side to side, the glass eye in his hand moving in unison.

"On they other side of the door the Orcs are......"

======================================================

Cast Clairvoyance 10 Min cast time on the other side of the door, I look around to see what they Orcs are doing and if they're still there.

[Artimus DeLonde]

The room fell silent, as the last reverberations of a false god warmed the brass laden walls. The room seemed to drink the refrain, lonely for its dwarven creators, today even an imposter would be exhalted.
The same way orphans, made a father's from every man he crossed, fitting or not.

The room was still, each man holding his breath for the next crashing of Orcish intent, the next guttural shout.

But nothing came- The clamouring horde was heard no longer

Looking sidelong. Like a burglar about to snatch his prize. Artimus looked at
Emelious, giving him a silent shrug, as if to say.

--"Well I guess that worked."--

It seems we have bought ourselves some time. However I cannot count on the prudence of the greenskins not to return. It seems we have little choice but see what creatures the dwarves feared enough to erect that.

Artimus reasoned gesturing to the gate.

“If zhe Orcz return, I'd like to know of it. Perhapz we leave a hozt-gift from Moradin himzelf. "

Artimuz said motioning to the half dozen explosives he'd slapped together.


Wasting no time Artimus made his way over to the door examining it, carefully considering its make and form.  When he seemed satisfied took a few steps back before laying down and examining the space between the doors in the floor.

Excellent.

There was only a little clearance between door and the temples floor and the door was, as expected, well crafted. If orcs pounded till the doors gave way, they wouldn't crumple of come off the hinges. They would swing, only the barring mechanism and blockade giving way, ambitious dwarves saw to that.


The mariner bent down and traced the path of the door's expected motion on the floor with a portion of chalk he kept in a thick leather pouch. He picked up one of his makeshift bombs and heaved it to about where the door would swing when 45 degrees. About 3 feet out from the doorway and about a foot offset from the center of where the door split.

Then carefully taking a handful of saltpeter he made a neat pile next to the clay jars and drizzled it with some lantern oil making a kind of paste which he spackled to the ground with his boot till it met the chalk line he traced earlier.

Finally he wedged a piece of flint between the stones that made up the floor.

He took a step back admiring his deadly contraption before retreating to a safe distance.

“When zhey come, zhey'll regret defying Moradinz will.

Zo, zhall we decent furzher into zhe unknown?”

[Custer Thickett]

“Uh… we should get out of here. They may be back with a bigger force. A force big enough to take on a god. And I don’t know if you guys caught on to this, but I was lying just then.”

Cuss laughed, and then sighed.  Whether he wanted to or not, he liked this one.  He's only half-human, anyhow.  Might be we'll get along, yeah?

A faint female voice whispered to him, 'He's cute as well, leannán.'

His nose wrinkled with jealousy.  She giggled.

“We should bring them with us. We can’t have them telling their friends where we’ve gone.”

Custer's face twisted with disgust, "Oiy, they'll slow us down, might be they'll even get us killed when we near something they can shout 'help me' to, no?"

He shook his head.  Aside from killing them, it was the only sensible option.  He didn't like it, but it had to be done.  

"Be that as it may, there's really no other honorable way to go about this.  I'll keep an eye on em, but somebody else better chain em together, yeah?"

While the others readied to move, Cuss walked over to the broken floor and the flowing water beneath.  He looked down, and thought of his tradition.  He glanced about and decided he had time, so he lowered his pack to the ground, set his feet wide, and proceed to relieve himself into the pool.  The trickle conspicuously echoed through the dome.

He thought he saw Duhrz smile, but it faded too fast to be sure.  Cuss nodded at the Orc, saying, What?  Sizing it up are ya?

Custer looked down, but his eyes followed the flow into the water and he stared at the changing color flashing down the current.  

The wolves died...

His eyes went wide, and as he shook himself for storage, he almost yelled a question.  "Olfusen!  Where does this water go?"

...

After his answer and any other interjections about it, Cuss asks Osvald to translate a couple more of his questions for Duhrz.

"How much poison went into the water, for how long?"

"How much weapon worthy poison has been made and delivered?"

"Did Sothis's host in the mountain pass have any with them?  How much?"

"What were they going to do with it?"

...

After scratching his chin for a moment as he thought on the answers, Cuss grasped the Kraken's Fist around his neck and thought to the others with one;

'I want Kesian as bad as any of you.  Mayhaps worse, but how many like these in the cages are we willing to see sacrificed before we find him?'

'If we can convince Athkatla that Sothis is going to poison their waters, they have to ride out to meet him, no?'

'Might be we need go back, no?

'Do we have ears and eyes near Imnescar or in Athkatla that we can consult?'

[Kellar]

“Uh… we should get out of here. They may be back with a bigger force. A force big enough to take on a god. And I don’t know if you guys caught on to this, but I was lying just then.”

Kellar shook his head, in part for the ringing in his ears, and part for the disbelief that Emelious's ploy might have worked. "Agreed, we need to move, which passage? To the North or toward their camp? Emelious looked and asked about the two captive orcs*. Kellar nodded.

*If the prisoners are to be in our custody, Kellar will unravel the chains from his pouch and lock one end onto his clockwork belt. "Custer, I'll leave it to you to bind them, I'll have them anchored to me and I'll keep them to the rear of the group. Lance at their backs, I can skewer two for one if needed."

*If the prisoners are not to be in our custody, Kellar will unlock the cage and escort them to the passage to the North. He will provide a weapon to each of them and one ration after they walk forward 10 paces. He will then return to the room and lock it from their side. "They'll have a fighting chance at least."

............
Kellar looked at the pile of mundane weapons and armor. "Artimus, do you mind if I lay this extra metal and weapons around your, uh, trap? When we were in Esmeltaran, the enemy used mortars. We may as well use their tactics against them. What do you think?"

Kellar waited for the others to provide their input. Osvald had been quiet during their down time, it appeared that he'd been getting caught up with Olufsen.

"Orbaugh and I are ready to move. Let's not waste time."

Actions:
Kellar Stealth= 19
Orbaugh Perception= 21



"We can set them into the darkness of the tunnel to the North. They'll have a fighting chance at least. When the orcs return, the trap laid by Artimus will seal this area off for a while," he said.

[DiceMaster]

The member 'Kellar' has done the following action : Dice Roller

#1 'D20' : 15

--------------------------------

#2 'D20' : 17, 7

[Ao]

Pimli’s eyes flutter, as the gnome’s Clairvoyant sensor floats through the door, and the cavern beyond the doorway comes into view.

The path descending from the temple is bare, and beneath the sensor Pimli can see a fallen battering ram. No doubt it was dropped, when its users fled the scene.

Down the hill snakes the path, over a footbridge that spans the narrow channel of the subterranean lake, to the battleground where the fellowship laid low the orcs that guarded this place previously.

There now, fortified behind a row of wooden barricades, is the orc force.

From this distance, perhaps 400 feet, Pimli can only see the heads of those orcs that poke up above the barricades. They are dug in, with a commander pacing from behind them. Two lumbering ogres stand behind the lines, and Pimli can see the flash of an arrowhead supporting the flanks.

It is impossible to gauge numbers from here, but there are at least a dozen orcs supported by the ogres behind the barricades, and perhaps more in the shadows.

[…]

Atriums stands before the iron gate, looking beyond it where the brazier’s light terminates. Inky blackness beckons, this heavy portcullis keeping out whatever horrors lie beyond.

A lever - iron, and set into the wall of the temple, is positioned in the ‘up’ form. It would be easy to swing it downward, the mariner determines after testing its ‘give’.

He listens for any sounds beyond, and hears nothing.

[…]

Custer stands above Duhrz, peering through the cage as he awaits Olufsen and Osvald’s answers.

The grizzled older ranger answers first.

“This waterway drains out into the lake in the mountain pass.” he says, trying to follow Custer’s line of questioning.

Duhrz speaks, Osvald translating.

[[Nerguhll has been making poison for months.]] he doesn’t seem to know anything about the volume of distribution.

Duhrz seems confused when you ask of Sothis. He says only, [[clan maul never met the magic ogre, or his warriors.]]

The former jailer shakes his head when you ask if Sothis took any of the poison.

[…]

Artimus’ trap holds, and Kellar paces about, adding the last bits of iron and shrapnel into the mix.

It would certainly make for an explosion.

===================

Ok guys,

Let’s make a decision on our course of action this rotation.

You’ve got 12+ orcs and two ogres out, from what pimli can see*

And you’ve got this path north, you might be able to take.

Also, let me know what you’re doing with the prisoners.

EXP: +50 to all of you, for another great round of posts.

Action this time guys! Contemplation is great - but let’s be definitive this round.

[Emelious Storm]

Emelious waits for Pimli to finish his arcane garnered report on the conditions outside the temple.

Over a dozen orcs and two ogres. Emelious sighed.

“At best we’re outnumbered two to one out there, against a force that has set up defensive positions with projectile weapons, and our only path to them is across a completely exposed narrow bridge over a poisoned lake…” Emelious nodded slowly to himself, “Yah, let’s take the spooky dark death tunnel instead.”

Emelious pulls the lever and the gate slowly opens. The clinking ominous as it echoes into the darkness.

“Alright, Half-Elves first.”

Emelious grips his shield.

“Here I go.”

Emelious grips his shield tighter.

“I’m going.”

Emelious lowers his shield.

“Someone mind giving me a push? Nah, I’m just messing with you guys.”

Emelious strides into the darkness. His ancestral gift of darkvision enhancing the black abyss into dim shades of grey.

Emelious creeps low, moving quietly, senses on edge. Heart thumping in his-

SCRAPE RATTLE BANG

The cleric's foot caught on the base of the gate and he tumbled into the chains and pulleys that made up the opening mechanism. Emelious turned to the rest of the party. Looks of bewilderment on their faces. Emelious put a finger innocently to his lips.

"Shhhhhh."

Then, as if nothing happened, Emelious continued into the darkness without another word.

---

[Stealth: 1 + 4 = 5 = CRITICAL FAIL]

[Perception: 13 + 6 = 19 = Success?]

[DiceMaster]

The member 'Emelious Storm' has done the following action : Dice Roller

#1 'D20' : 1

--------------------------------

#2 'D20' : 13

[Pimli Prixus]

"On they other side of the door the Orcs are dug in behind barricades 400 feet away, in the tree line. I can't count them all by I see more then twelve, at least a few archers, and two orges." Pimli sighs, not much of a choice now.

“At best we’re outnumbered two to one out there, against a force that has set up defensive positions with projectile weapons, and our only path to them is across a completely exposed narrow bridge over a poisoned lake…” Emelious nodded slowly to himself, “Yah, let’s take the spooky dark death tunnel instead.”

He's right, we have to go through the tunnels. It's the only sane escape. Pimli laughs loudly, Possible death by Illithid is the sane alternative, if I make it out of here I'll have a great story to tell Magus Harenvuul

Pimli goes and picks up his bags, not knowing when he'll come out of the dark once he enters, or if he ever will see the light of day again.

“Alright, Half-Elves first.” Emelious you wouldn't be so confident if you know what was waiting for us in the depths.

Skurr to me

“Here I go.” Maybe he does have an idea, either that or he's afraid of the dark. Knowing what's down there I'm a little afraid of the dark as well.

I come master the familiar swoops down from its pearch flying towards it's master.

“I’m going.” a pause, “Someone mind giving me a push? Nah, I’m just messing with you guys.” Ok that must just be Half-Elven humor, and people say we Gnomes have a strange sense of humor.

SCRAPE RATTLE BANG

Skurr lands on Pimlis shoulder. Master Skurr fear deep you're not the only one Skurr, you're not the only one. Master will keep you safe Skurr, I promise But who will keep me safe?

"Shhhhhh."

Pimli sighs, "Emelious, allow me to light your way". Pimli grabs the top of his staff in his left hand, closes his eyes and says "Evig em thgil" he removes his hand from the top of the staff, the gem radiating a bright white light, and walks forward into the darkness.

The shadows leap away from the light cast by his staff, stretching away from him into the unknown, Pimli afraid of each and every one of them, afraid that the next one could be coming to bore a two inch hole in his head.

"So let me tell you of the Illithid" Pimli tells his companions all he knows as they walk further into the depths, afraid every step is bringing him closer to doom.

==========================================
Cast Light on the end of my staff, 1 hour duration. Humans in the party need to see lol

[Ao]

Journey into The Caves

The sound of Emelious’ stumble seems to echo through the cavern network, long after your fellowship passes through the iron gate, deeper into the heart of the mountains.

The air is cold. Frigid, even - a marked difference from the cool caves adjoining the brass temple to the mountain pass. It filters between your armour joins, prickling your skin and stealing your breath. Your bones feel chilled.

Centuries of frost and thaw have shaped these deep tunnels, drawing enormous cracks and grooves along their path. Pimli’s staff illuminates the way, the light filtering into spiderweb crevices not wider than a finger, and enormous cuts that could swallow a man whole.

One foot in front of the other, you walk across the jagged, uneven landscape. It widens and narrows at will. Natural shelves create steppes downward, only to require that you scramble up the side of a boulder-lined hill moments later.

The terrain is harsh, and progress is slow. And cold. And dark.



This is no pedestrian cave system. Emelious and Osvald lead the way in front of Pimli, Olufsen following closely behind. Custer, Artimus and Dwan follow in the shadows, while Kellar brings up the rear with the two prisoners in tow. Their shackled chains drag against the uneven ground, clanging together loudly.

At first, it seems the prisoners are deliberately trying to sabotage a quiet approach. But after nearly a half hour of walking through the winding tunnels, their efforts cease.

*Crkkkk*

“What was that?” Olufsen holds up his hand, looking around with a fist on the pommel of his sword.

Silence blows through the claustrophobic caves, amidst a backdrop of constantly trickling water.

DRIP - DRIP - DRIP.

The ranger stands still for a moment, and then gives a nod to Pimli. You continue on.

[…]

Tight passages give way to an enormous, open antechamber tens of miles wide. Only a narrow, wrought stone path leads through her heart, ten feet wide. To either side, open air - a drop perhaps thousands of feet into nothingness.

The orcs grumble, dragging their chains as Kellar prods them forward with a lance.

Olufsen looks behind you at the passageway, chewing his lip. He stares into the darkness for a moment, then turns round.

“Keep your eyes open fellows. I’m sure we’re not alone.”

Emelious leads you over the stone bridge, Pimli’s light fading off into nothingness in the gargantuan passage.

[…]

You’ve walked for two hours, perhaps. Your feet are beginning to ache.

Thirty minutes ago, Custer’s ears pricked up. Olufsen was ready as well, and you spent some time looking off into a wide, jagged section of this natural cave.

But nothing appeared, so you carried on.

Now, you walk alongside a subterranean river system, your breath fogging in front of you in the stark cold. Chunks of ice flow along the waterway, bobbing up and down and scraping against the bank.

Suddenly, the passage narrows dramatically, and terminates on the right into an enormous, roaring waterfall. Looking out over the edge, you can see it drops perhaps 500 feet into a wide, fast-moving continuation of the river.

To the left, the passage has narrowed to a mere ledge, perhaps 1-2 feet in width. It veers upward, curving round a bend in the cavern wall, and up 80 feet into another cave-tunnel that yawns with a set of gravelly stalactites.

[…]

You approach the wall, getting a better look. Spray from the waterfall soaks your clothes and armour quickly, deepening the chill you’ve only just become accustomed to. The wall is slick with water, which has also frozen layer-upon-layer into frosty patches of ice and rock.

Between the cracks in the stone, you can see an aggressive fungus is growing. It is grey, with enormous black spots. Most of its’ caps have a light layer of ice, granting a glossy finish.

Olufsen stops, considering the layout.

“It would appear the way forward is most hazardous. A fall would be grievous indeed. But I am uneasy about turning back -“

He looks to Custer, casting a grave look.

“I feel that we’ve been followed. And it could be unwise to backtrack.”

The ranger’s words hang in the frozen air…

======================

Ok guys, you’ve been walking for perhaps 3 or 4 hours. The cave system is icy cold, and you’re standing at the lip of a huge waterfall (making it colder, and wetter)

The path continues - if you can call it a path. The wide tunnel has narrowed into a thin ledge flanking the waterfall and leading upward into another cave system. It’s perhaps 1-2 feet in width (the ledge, that is) and finding a handhold will be challenging along the 80 foot wall - not because there aren’t plenty of crevices to grab into (there are), but because the moisture on the wall has frozen, and the wall is covered in a bizarre grey fungus that grows wildly across its surface.

Turning around to a ‘junction’ where you can attempt another cave system will probably require backtracking for at least an hour or more. And Olufsen is concerned that you might not be alone…

EXP: +25 each

[Pimli Prixus]

Olufsen stops, considering the layout.

“It would appear the way forward is most hazardous. A fall would be grievous indeed. But I am uneasy about turning back -“

He looks to Custer, casting a grave look.

“I feel that we’ve been followed. And it could be unwise to backtrack.”

The ranger’s words hang in the frozen air…

Ohhh I riddle! I love riddles!, how to you get eight people across a treaterous, uneasy, tiny, slippery foot path Pimli scratches his chin and taps his food on the ground thinking on the question, wild thoughts and the pounding of the waterfall drowning out the voices of the others. Master we fly

Pimli giggles, That's easy for you to say Skurr but what about the rest of us? We're going to need a bridge, or the ability to climb as a spider, or a hand rail.

"Wait that's it! I need rope, who has rope?" Pimli shrugs off his backpack and removes the 50ft coil of rope placing it on the ground, looking around he sees rope coiled on Emelious's pack. "Emelious could I borrow your rope?" He says with his most pleasant grin plastered across his face. Emelious unties the rope and passes it to Pimli with a curious look on his face. Pimli takes one and of the rope and ties to two coils together, standing back and nodding once he's satisfied with his work.

"Someone stronger then me, pull on this knot and let me know that it's secure?" as the knot is being checked Pimli ties one end of the now 100ft rope to a nearby stalagmite, leaning with all his weight against the knot to make sure that it's secure. [Arcobatics check to be sure of footing since the ground is icy. d20+3=23 Success ]

Pimli gets a set look in his eyes, there is excitement there, exhilaration, and fear. Skurr fly up but stay close I will need you in a second.. The Crow lifts up and perches upon the same stalagmite Pimli just secured the rope to. Pimli places his hand on his chest and utters the incantation "Knirhs em nwod rellams neht I ma" with the final word of the incantation out of his lips Pimlis body shrinks down to the size of a sprite. [Cast Enlarge/Reduce on myself, 1 min duration, shrink down to half size (1'6") and one eight the weight (5 lbs)]

"Pass me the other end of the rope" Pimli squeeks as loudly as he can to be heard over the rush of the water. He ties the rope around his waist then holds out his arms.

Skurr, we fly, pick me up and take me to the other side of this ledge

Yes Master The Crow lifts up and swoops down grasping his master by the arms, and flying quickly to the other side side of the ledge. Gently letting his Pimli down on the other side when the rope began to taught. Feet firm on the ground Pimli stops concentrating on his spell his body returning to normal size. He unties the rope from his waist, walks over and ties the far end to another stalagmite. Once again leaning against the knot to be sure it's secured [Arcobatics check to be sure of footing since the ground is icy. d20+3=10 ??? ]

With the rope secured, Pimli smiles across the way Now they have a guard rail

"IT SHOULD BE SAFE TO CROSS NOW"

Pimli waits as his friends cross the ledge.

========================================================================================
Cast reduce on myself
Use familiar to fly across to the other cave system
Make a rope guard rail
Profit?

[DiceMaster]

The member 'Pimli Prixus' has done the following action : Dice Roller

'D20' : 20, 7

[Ao]

[Great plan Pim - really awesome. Everyone - I still need DEX checks as you're coming across - advantage given for the rope.]
Ao

[Emelious Storm]

Emelious looks uneasily at the ledge. The party has fallen into silence at Olufsen’s warning.

We have to go forward. But how are we going to get safely acro-

"Wait that's it! I need rope, who has rope?” Emelious nearly jumped out of his skin, thankfully it was just Pimli, “Emelious could I borrow your rope?" The gnome grinned wide.

Emelious didn’t even bother asking what for, he handed it over without question. Emelious would let Pimli borrow his family’s estate.

Pimli quickly ties his rope to Emelious’ rope and then after some business with Skurr and a Reduce spell a guideline is erected along the ledge.

Emelious starts to clap in admiration, but quickly stops himself as the sound echoes throughout the cavern.

“All right, guess I’ll go first. I’ve already fallen several hundred feet into water. I’m sure it will be less scary the second time.”

Emelious tests a foot on the icy ledge.

Not too bad. I’ll just have to take it slow.

The Half-Elf hugs the wall, and uses the guide to assist his balance.

[Acrobatics (advantage): 19 + 7 = 26 = Success.]

The ledge was certainly slick, but due to the sailor's expert balance and the aid of Pimli's guide, Emelious makes it across with out incident.

"Pim, I don't know how many times I've thought this today, but here it is again," Emelious clears his throat for dramatic flair:

"You're the best!"

[DiceMaster]

The member 'Emelious Storm' has done the following action : Dice Roller

'D20' : 8, 19

[Custer Thickett]

Custer listens to the gnome detail the Orc's position with interest until, Treeline? oiy  He reaches to cover his face with his hand, pausing when he nearly hits himself in the head with Olc.  He mumbles in Halfling as he shakes his head, "Bandia a shábháil linn le haghaidh surely ní féidir linn a shábháil féin. (Goddess save us for surely we cannot save ourselves)."

He imagines an attack on the Orcs, intricate in detail.  He and the others moving through the hole in the floor, quietly sneaking out from the waterfall, scaling the walls unseen, and pulling the Ogres into the water below as they ascend into battle, falling foes with every blow.  

It would never work.

Emelious steps forward, opening the gate, and plowing into the chains beyond, jesting the whole while.  

Custer giggled and smiled.  Mayhaps he'll give the Drow a reason to smile before they peel off our faces, yeah?

The gnome, however, spoke of something else hiding in the dark.  A thing that feast upon the brains of its victims.  A thing Cuss hoped he'd never be so lucky as to meet.  'Ya've seen to it that I see many interesting things, me Lady, but the gooey pile of eyes and mouths was really enough to keep me from quiet sleep, yeah?  Brain Eaters are really just too generous a gift for me to accept.'

The plea brought him no comfort, and so he carried on, risking the occasional stumble so that he may keep both of his bows at the ready.  He often pointed them at shadows dancing behind stalagmites much taller than he.  Sometimes sending the others into a duck, but more often earning their scowl at his jumpiness.  

He considered it just being careful.  

When they got to the big room with the long bridge, he peed over the edge.  It Olfusen's eyes could stab with steel, he'd have surely died there.

When the air turned cold, he tried to stay warm by whispering through quivering lips to the new guys.

"S-s-so, I-I never p-properly i-introduced my-myself.  The name's C-Custer of house T-Thickett, merchant house of Esmeltaran.  The half that didn't b-b-burn."

Olfusen stopped him, and spoke of the icy climb and the feeling that they'd been followed.

As for the climb, the gnome had a plan.  When he shrank, Cuss nearly peed himself giggling.  

It was truly a treat seeing the tricks of a gnome.  

When Emelious started the climb, Cuss offered, "Eh, Me thinks I'll go last.  Might be I'll untie the rope down here, and hold on as ya pull me up, yeah?  That way we'll get to keep it.  We'll be needing it again, no?"

......

Perception for Cuss keeping a watch while waiting, looking for what followed. +1  21
Dex (prof) to climb. +6  24

Oiy, I really screwed the pooch with that roll.  Well, the 1 is rerolled as Halflings Luck, so it kind of works out.

[DiceMaster]

The member 'Custer Thickett' has done the following action : Dice Roller

#1 'D20' : 1

--------------------------------

#2 'D20' : 7, 16, 20, 9, 11, 5

[Kellar]

Kellar watched Pimli shrink even smaller than he already was. Orbaugh watched Skurr pick up the pint-sized gnome and fly off into the darkness. The line was secured and Emelious went first. "I'll go, along with these two, they'll take the longest I would imagine," he said as he pointed at the two captives with his lance.

"I hope you two don't mind heights," he said with a grin. He motioned them forward. They stepped closer and looked back at Kellar with disdain. "Do you want to fall into the darkness by my boot? Or do you want to have a chance at seeing daylight and living out your days?" The two orcs looked at each other and back at the ledge in front of them. They inched their way toward the rope left by Pimli and began their crossing. Dexterity Check (x2)= 20, 18; success!

Kellar watched as they began to cross, the chain links attached to his waist began tighten. He started walking after them. He put his Lance away and kept an axe at his side, prepared for anything. Dexterity Check= 16+5= 21; Success! Orbaugh looked out nervously into the darkness. Master, I keep an eye on you. Perception Roll= 20+4= 24; Success!

Orbaugh intently looked about their environment, and offered advice to his Master as they crossed the narrow area. There, that looks good. There. Not there, too wet. There! Orcs good. The orcs and Kellar crossed with little to worry about. The rope held, the orcs wanted to live (apparently), and Orbaugh was a most helpful pseudo-dragon. Kellar drew his Battleaxe and waited for the others to pass.

"Master Gnome, ingenious idea."

[DiceMaster]

The member 'Kellar' has done the following action : Dice Roller

#1 'D20' : 4, 20

--------------------------------

#2 'D20' : 15, 18

--------------------------------

#3 'D20' : 16, 3

--------------------------------

#4 'D20' : 10, 20

[Dwan Bolduum]

Listening to Artimus's story of Selune, Dwan thinks to himself  I will have to speak to him later of my vision as well.  As his story starts to get interesting the doors boom and Emelious screams out a very blasphemous shout to the orcs on the other side.  

Dwan gives the half-elf a look, Cleric, huh? and leaves it at that.

---------------------------------------------

As the party moves into the cave system Dwan stays close to the rangers to guide them when needed in the subterranean cave system.

-----------------------------------------------

When the party reaches the waterfall.

Looks like a dead end, no way that we can make it across the ice.  Well, we can probably make our way down into the river, it should spit us out on the surface eventually. We would just need to make some kind of boat to keep us from freezing. Dwan starts to mumble a plan under his breath as Pimli shrinks himself and lets his crow fly him across the path to tie a rope to let the group navigate the icy wall.

That works too I guess...

Dwan stays behind as one by one the group uses the rope to get across.  It should be easy enough.  Once all but Custer pass, Dwan looks at him and nods.

Hold on tight Cuss, we'll get you across.

Dex roll 16 + 0 16

Dwan tries to grab the rope but it slips through his fingers. That doesn't bode well. The line is soaked cold by the spray of the waterfall, not frozen yet thankfully but treacherous none the less. This time Dwan grabs the rope tightly and uses it to guide himself across the way to the rest of the group.

Once he is safely across, Dwan uses the Kraken's fist to tell Cuss to untie the rope and hold on tight so that he can be pulled to the other side of the cavern.

=======================
Dwan hears most of Artimus's story
Dwan helps those with lesser vision in the cave system
Dwan climbs across the rope

[DiceMaster]

The member 'Dwan Bolduum' has done the following action : Dice Roller

'D20' : 16, 8

[Artimus DeLonde]

Kellar and Artimus

Artimus and Kellar scoured the room raking up what implements of cruelty they could, crude axes and worn daggers. The blast would be include a light seasoning of steel and vivasection.

It would be wonderful. A shame they wouldn't see the carnage.
---

The black passage ahead of them, Artimus found an excuse to return to the chamber. taking a moment to flush any of the remaining parchment down the waterway and lumping the reagents onto the pile of explosive, clay and steele. ensuring the horde would not pick up where the poisoner left off.

--
Artimus shivered, half from the cold cave air, wicking the heat from the moisture on his neck as they travelled deeper under the mountain. Half from Pimli's recount of the Ithilid. if such a thing did exist, it would be in this place. The sound of the water disappeared, leaving them with the sounds of their own footsteps as they paced away from the Brass temple.

The walls narrowed in places squeezing the air from their lungs and opening into an unknowable blackness of the cavern, gaping and encompassing. The party felt like a singular entity swimming in a pool of inky blackness.

Artimus hummed softly, a gambit to keep fear from gripping too tightly.

the sound of rushing water filled the Mariner's ears again easing some of the tension building in his shoulders.

“Keep your eyes open fellows. I’m sure we’re not alone.”

A small smile crept across the mariners face. The sensation of being followed was all too familiar to the Cormyrian- one that was as motivating as it was quitely offputting. Sharing the mild dread with his companions held in it a strange comfort.

The jagged gray rock, kissed with an eon of icy mist was clear in it's decisiveness. It was stark and uncomplicated, those who slipped would die. claimed by waters that held no warmth nor compassion.

Artimus couldn't see well from where he stood. Mumbled words proceeded the Pimli disppearing out his of sightline and a rising, snaking rope, that suddenly became taught as it was tied to near and distant Stalagmite. He rubbed his eyes, had the strain of the low light started to effect his mind...

One by one he watched each of his kin make the narrow jaunt. He stood place at he next to the near sides anchor point, his hand steadying the line as the others crossed.

The narrow passage lost some of it's bite as Artimus gripped the the rope as he paced, still carefully choosing his footing.

Three steps into the travesion, his left foot slipped suddenly from under him sending s hot of dread through his whole body.

A firm hand on the rope allowed Artimus to redirect his ass clumsily to the stone floor rather than deadly freefall. sheepishly he returned to his feet and continued the trek.

Acrobatics x 2
luck reroll of the '2' replaced with 9+ 6 = 15[/b]

[DiceMaster]

The member 'Artimus DeLonde' has done the following action : Dice Roller

'D20' : 7, 5

[Ao]

Public roll for Osvald (didn't roll)
+4

[DiceMaster]

The member 'Ao' has done the following action : Dice Roller

'D20' : 19

[Ao]

Your fingers grip tightly to the line, the cold, wet spray stinging your skin and coating the ledge in an icy layer.

Pimli watches as one-by-one, the fellowship crosses precariously. Emelious and Artimus - white-knuckled above the roaring waterfall, their boots make it across without mishap.

Kellar marshalls the orcs forward militantly, his lance shining brightly in the torchlight. They scuttle across gingerly, manacled like animals.

The dragoon follows, rocks kicking out from under his feet as the weight of his armour bares down upon the ledge. Still, his confidence does not waiver, and soon Orbaugh lets out a sigh of relief as you cross to the other side.

Osvald grips tightly, moving lithely across, followed closely by Olufsen.

Dwan’s knuckles pull him forward, his nose inches from the rock wall. Suddenly he stops - eyes wide;

[Dwan, passive nature]

The druid looks closely at the grey mushrooms growing out from the crevices of the wall. They are layered, and covered in enormous, hairy black spots. A thin layer of ice coats each of the caps.

Dwan’s heart begins to beat faster. He recognizes those mushrooms.

Black-Eyed Dandy. A neurotoxic hallucinogen that induces paralysis and wild hallucinations. One of his fellow soldiers from the Gold Army had inhaled just a few spores from the foul fungus. It took him a full day of paralyzed, pitiful mouth-frothing and rambling about killer deer warriors from Halruua to work out the poison.

The dwarf looks to the fellows that have already crossed, exhaling headily. Lucky they were balanced and dextrous enough to avoid disturbing the fungus.

With great care, Dwan crosses the rest of the gap…

[…]

Custer lands lightly on his feet, as his fellows pull him up alongside the silken rope. You look backward, marvelling at the powerful beauty of the waterfall. For most of you, it is but a darkened silhouette with your limited light.

Emelious watches the water cascade down with his ancestral vision, the fearsome force of nature churning like an angry god.

Suddenly, his attention drifts downward, to a small ledge. It is a rock peninsula, jutting out perhaps 50 feet ahead of where the falls crash into the subterranean river.

Standing upon it is the faint silhouette of a humanoid. Emelious’ eyes scan over it at first, and as he realizes just what he has seen, the figure disappears into the rock wall….

[…]

You press onward through the cave network, jumping over rocky shelves and ducking low between fragmented passage-mouths. In some places, the shoal beneath your feet gives way to washed-out sinkholes…and so progress is slow, and steady.

It has been another hour or more, when the cool, mushroomy cavern air begins to subside. Judging by the steep incline of this particular tunnel passage, you can tell that there must be an opening to the surface somewhere nearby.

Kellar stands with the orcs, his lance resting gently behind them.

You stop for a moment, considering the antechamber you stand in. The path widens considerably northward, where the influx of fresh air seems to be coming from. Various side passages branch off to the east and west, and back towards the south where you came from.

To the northwest, the cavern wall collapses, granting those of you with dark vision a view over an enormous cavern subsystem beneath you. It is clear that this network of caves likely spans for many, many miles. Perhaps all throughout the small teeth.

Your attention is snapped towards Artimus as a disgusting *Crunch* echoes out from beneath his boots, where he has stepped on the leg of a corpse. The cadaver is fresh, and as the mariner recovers from the disgusting altercation, he can see that blood still runs from the beast’s mortal wound -

…- a two-inch hole, dug between the disgusting brute’s eyes.

Kellar’s prisoners scream in fear, gibbering in orcish -

“IT IS THEY! RUN! WE MUST RUN!”

They kick up a cacophony, rustling their chains like animals and straining towards the north most passage, nearly pulling Kellar off his feet!

Custer, standing beside Artimus, looks down and gazes off into the darkness, where Pimli’s light spell does not reach.

It appears that the killer left a trail of blood…leading down one of the western passages….

======================

Ok guys! Great work on crossing the ledge. Y’all get +100 XP for that genius little plan Pimli put into place. I was so looking forward to paralytic, hallucinogenic doom. Oh well, yall had DEX saves that were too high to justify it

You find yourselves at what appears to be the end of the cavern network. Likely, if you continue northward up through the widening passage, you’ll find yourselves back out in the mountain pass somewhere.

However, there is this blood trail leading deeper into the caves, to the west…

Kellar, I’ll need you to make a STR check to restrain the orcs. DC 15. If you fail, you’ll be dragged to the ground and there’s a chance the orcs might escape…!

EXP: +25

-Ao

[Pimli Prixus]

“IT IS THEY! RUN! WE MUST RUN!”

The orc captives scream, struggling against there bounds, trying to escape the horrors the mind created at the sight of that two inch hole. Pimli looks from the hole in the beasts head to the exit, light pouring into the cave system. This is a little close from them, they usually prefer the darker depths. Only one way to be sure

Pimli walks over an knells beside the dead beast, closing off his mind from distractions, blocking out the shouts and struggles of the Orcs as Keller tries to get them under control, Pimli sticks his fingers into the hole.

[If the skull isn't hollow]

Pimli smiles and stands ups removing his fingers from the creatures brain matter. "I deen denaelc ffo", he lightly shimmers blue as all the blood and gore from from the corpse is cleaned off him [Cast Prestidigation on self to clean off blood]

"It's not Illithid, some kind of copy cat trying to scare others away. The Mindflayers would never leave a meal."

Why would anyone pretend to be an Illithid to keep people out of a cave system? What's down there that's so worth hiding?

Pimli looks down the tunnel curious grin on his face.

"Wanna see what they're hiding?"

He turns towards his companions to see what they think.

[If the skull is hollow]

Pimlis eyes widen in fear as his fingers scrape across the inside of the beasts skull. A wash in terror, he stands up defensively eyes darting every which way. "Illithid, this close to the surface. this is bad very bad. They can't be allowed to feed, they must be stopped." Pimli shouts frantically.

Pimli grasps the end gem on the end of his staff as his has every so often since the fellowship began traveling through there caverns, with his hand removed the gem begins emanating bright light which he points down the tunnel.

Standing there dripping in gore, staring down the path with the trail of blood, watching the shadows for any sign of his impending doom, Pimli tries to steel himself as he knows what needs to be done.

They must be stopped.

[Ao]

Pimli looks in through the hole, the morbid eyes of the Orc staring soullessly up at him.

The gnome looks rather ghoulish, digging in the head of the cadaver.

But his fingers - they touch upon something telling...

Brain. The Orc still has its brain intact, save for a nasty puncture wound in the frontal lobe...

[Emelious Storm]

Emelious watches attentively as one-by-one the party traverses the ledge.

Terrible place for a swim, would hate to have to jump in after one of you.

Fortunately, this wasn’t the case, and before long the whole group was standing on the other side.

Emelious took in his surroundings, the jagged rock walls, the water cascading to the river below, the shadowy form of a man standing on an outcropping of rock...

Wait, what.

The Half-Elf’s eyes dart back, but the figure has vanished from sight, disappearing into the stone.

Huh...

“I think Olufsen’s right. We’re definitely not alone.”

----

The party travels for an hour or more through the caverns. Thankfully they find themselves in a promising tunnel; one with a steep incline. It’s there they come to a conflux of branching paths. The one to the North the most promising to lead to the surface, while paths to the east, west, and south no doubt lead further into the cave network.

CRUNCH.

The party turns to Artimus who has stepped on the fresh and bloody body of an Orc, they barely have time to realize what killed it when the two prisoners let out a fearful cry. The frightened orcs strain against their chain and try to pull away from Kellar, making the fearsome warrior stagger as he tries to hold them.

Emelious quickly grabs hold of the chain to help Kellar from being pulled over.

[Emelious uses the Help action to provide Kellar with advantage on his check.]

----

Pimli kneels beside the fallen Orc and inquisitively places a finger into the hole between its eyes. He comes away with blood and cleans it off with an effortless magical utterance. Pimli smiles.

"It's not Illithid, some kind of copy cat trying to scare others away. The Mindflayers would never leave a meal,” Pimli looks down the tunnel sporting a trail of blood, and then turns back to the party with a grin, "Wanna see what they're hiding?"

Hmmm… something’s trying to pretend to be one of these Mindflayers. Which means they probably aren’t as scary as a mindflayer. Which means that-

“Absolutely!”

----

[If the rest of the party decide to investigate.]

Emelious crouches low and follows the trail of blood, careful not to repeat his earlier mishap. He keeps his eyes peeled ahead for any sign of life.

[Stealth: 12 + 4 = 16 ]
[Perception: 13 + 6 = 19 ]

[DiceMaster]

The member 'Emelious Storm' has done the following action : Dice Roller

#1 'D20' : 12

--------------------------------

#2 'D20' : 13

[Kellar]

Artimus stepped on the carcass of an orc.

CRUNCH!

Pimli quickly examined the hole in the head of the orc and surmised that it wasn't what he feared. "Mindflayers don't leave a meal like this... The two captives caterwauled at the sight of their dead brethren and tried to make an escape. Emelious grabbed the chain and helped Kellar. "I got it, thanks for the assist." Strength Check= 10+8; Success! (Thanks Emel!)

Emelious leaned back and steadied the chain and Kellar used his hands to drag the two orcs closer to their dead comrade. "Look at your orc friend, he is dead and gone. If you want to be just like him, keep caterwauling and you'll find a nine inch hole in your head," Kellar said, standing over them with his Battleaxe shining in the fire light. The orcs looked at the dead and looked back up at Kellar and slowly stood up. "That will do. If you're both done, we're going to investigate the source of these killings. Our resident gnome thinks this is the workings of something else. Not Illithid."

The orcs fell in line again, heads hanging low as they shuffled forward to what they thought was their doom. Kellar kept behind them, with his Lance raised. Stealth Roll= 1+5= 6; Failure! Orbaugh dropped from Kellar's shoulder and began sniffing the air and walked beside the two captive orcs. Orbaugh, keep an eye out for movement. I got it. I look. Perception Roll= 17+4= 21; Success!

Actions:
Kellar reeled in the two orcs with Emilious's help.
Kellar is for investigating the source of the killings.
Kellar will march at the back of the group again with the two prisoners.

[DiceMaster]

The member 'Kellar' has done the following action : Dice Roller

#1 'D20' : 10, 1

--------------------------------

#2 'D20' : 1

--------------------------------

#3 'D20' : 17, 13

[Ao]

The fellowship charges after the blood trail, the whiffs of fresh air disappearing into the darkness at your backs, as you barrel down a narrowing tunnel into the depths of the cave system…

[…]

Nearly arctic air blows around you - this cave functions like a wind funnel. It swirls frigidly around your arms and legs, blowing through the folds in your clothes and the cracks in your armor.

The tunnel wraps around warpedly, in concentric circles like some unearthly portal into the underdark. The walls are gravelly and sand-like, and so are the ceilings. Sediment rains down upon you as you follow the path, the blood trail long ago consumed by the substrate.

[…]

Olufsen grumbles tensely, his bow held lightly in his hands.

“Gods - I promise you, Keisan is not down here. We ought to make this foray quick. Every minute that passes, Cyric’s followers have more time with that bloody compass.”

He walks on in silence.

After a time, the path becomes waterlogged. Icy-cold water sloshes through your boots, causing shivers up your spine. The waterway twists and turns, the sound of drips echoing in your ears deafeningly.

The cave widens out into a subterranean lake, still knee-deep and filled with black algae-like blossoms. It spans for what seems like miles, into the depths of the enormous, cavernous chamber.

Emelious, his darkvision seeing beyond the range of Pimli’s scepter, espies a small island amidst the reeds perhaps a quarter mile to the northeast. It floats against the cavern wall, serene in this forgotten part of Faerun.

The water laps at your legs, numbing your skin…

==================

Ok guys,

You’re standing in a knee-deep subterranean lake, in an enormous cavern chamber that you’ve no idea the dimensions of. Most of you can’t see beyond Pimli’s light spell, and so you’re viewing only the inky black water and the nothingness around you.

Emelious can see the island from here. Now that you’re no longer in an enclosed area, your torchlight will be visible for miles around you. If you elect to keep it up and approach the island, great. If you do not, you’ll need another way to guide each other through the water - otherwise, the possibility of becoming lost is great.

Also, you may elect to not approach the island at all, circling around the lake westward, and exploring the enormous subterranean cavern.

Or, turn back.

EXP: +25

Ao

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