DM themed play-by-post D&D game : STORY THREAD

[Ameena]

Ameena glances up from her inspection of the cloak to see Falkor smiling. At her? She doesn't know. And he hasn't answered her question as to where he'd got the cloak. She wonders whether she should tell him what she can smell, therefore. But this cloak might be dangerous...
"Smells like magic." she says. "But a lot of things here smell like magic. I think a human magic-user used to wear that."
Then she moves on past Falkor and enters the room which Westian and Haynuus have already been exploring. She stares around here. Things! Items! Mess! Junk? Perhaps. But how can she tell if she doesn't look?
Almost gleefully, she drops to all-fours and starts sniffing at the nearest heap of broken wood, nose twitching eagerly to detect any possible scent. She vaguely wonders how long the others will wait for her, because having noted the amount of things lying around in this room, getting through it all could take her quite some time. But this is the kind of thing a murafu lives for - rooting around in things other people have discarded (as long as it's not something really disgusting, like sewage or rotten food) and trying to find something useful. Maybe there'll be food here. Or maybe some little trinket that will prove useful later. She's used magic items before, on occasion, when the magic was a property of the item itself and she'd been assured of its use by a magic-using murafu. Sometimes, such items can be quite handy. Then again, if she does find something like that, it's unlikely she'll find the owner in order to ask them what it actually does. And she doesn't plan on trying out anything magic if she's unsure what the results will be.

OOC - See details in OOC thread...

[oh_brother]

As Westian realised there was no immediate danger in the room his stance changed to a more relaxed one. He examines the room briefly and a hopeful feeling surges up inside him - some supplies at last. His eyes shine with interest as he starts rummaging through the piles. Helping Haynuus lift up the cupboard he examines that too for anything of value. And anything that is of potential interest is carefully placed in a pile near the centre of the room. He looks up as Ameena enters. Certainly the murafu seems to be in her element, poking and sniffing about with great glee. Waiting for Falkor to follow, he prepares to discuss what he has seen in the alcoves, and other remembered details of his magical past.

[ian_scho]

The half-orc watched the others skit about with their business, somewhat bemused. The halfling and half-elf were discussing runes by waving their arms around and making a movement like some tribal dancers. Occasionally Westian would pick up bits of stuff out of the now righted cupboard to examine and Falkor would then stick his head in the recess in the wall to see if he could get a dose of ZO in his face or something. Meanwhile the Murufar, or whatever, was actually INSIDE the cupboard scurrying around in what little space there was throwing useless bits and pieces out of the container. Like a happy child little squeaking noises could be heard occasionally although whether anything went in the mouth to be tested Haynuus couldn't tell.

They were happy.

He turned his attention to the fountain. The trail of the pool of water was followed to see it's source. He'd be looking for secreted buttons, trails of salt from the evaportated water, anything to give him an idea as to how to turn the water source on. Every hole would have a finger pushed in to it, every loose or protuded stone would have his teeth or fists wrapped around it. Even the highly crafted cherub-face above the fountain got poked, licked, and punched in desperation.

Anything to turn it on.

[beowuuf]

Haynuus did his best with what he could find, but the store was really meant to help out those who had forgotten key items, not make up for an unequipped party. Two backpacks were in good order, and a third had a small hole in the bottom. Perhaps stuffing a sack inside would be enough? There were a few other sacks around, and many pouches, but the rest of the backpacks had been torn apart. Preseumable by inquisitive and destructive Trolins looking for anything of use.

There were also some long poles still intact - good for poking - although if Ameena or Falkor wished to use one as a weapon or tool, Haynuus would have to snap it one in two. Also mixed up inb the wreckage of the rack were several coils of rope (perhaps as many as three), although that would take some time to untangle.

Haynuus could only find three botas in the wreckage of the table, though luckily both were filled with - presumably - water. The third bota had a small hole in it, and all the water had already drained away. Could it be used for anything else? More importantly, a few wrapped packages were found. The contents had been pulped a little, but that hardly mattered with the touch, leathery contents of iron rations. There was probably only enough to feed this group one - maybe twice at a stretch - but it was better than nothing!

You can assume that as Haynuus is doing the backpack work, Ameena probably gives him some good instructions on fashioning a belt with lots of pouches attached. You know, while her nose is buried in a corner of the room.

Westian was heartbroken to see the wreckage under the cupboard had been a set of flasks and potions. The contents had all spilled out, and more importantly all the containers were destroyed. Westian could not remember how to conjure potions yet, but he remembered clearly glass containers were the most important element. Only the op of the cupboard had shelves thoughm, and the bottom possessed a few drawers.

There were items such as threads, hammers, stakes, some canvas squares, more thinner rope, and even a couple or mirrors and some knives. Some of the knives were to small for serious use - no, infact to the small hands of a murafu or halfling they would probably make good daggers. There were some larger knives aswell that could do some damage, although Westian could not imagine throwing them with any confidence.

There are three small knives that would be for utility to a medium create, but act as a dagger for a small creature. And two normal sized knifes that could act as a daggers for a medium creature or a cumbersome dagger for a small creature.

Ameena scurried around, investigsating every nook and cranny. The spilled potions caused some concern to Ameena, as the smell was overwhelming and the invididual not unpleasant odours there did not combine well. Westian was gently moved out of the way as she investigated the cupboard, but otherwise the three people in the room managed to co-ordinate themselves very well.

In the end, the room did not have too much in it - certainly nothing magical that was not spilled on the floor now. Ameena detected an unusual scent - a sort of musty odour - that she traced to a light dusting of powder on the wall. The start of mold? Otherwise the only other item of interest she discovered was in a pouch Haynuus had abandoned as another empty item. However, Ameena poked her nose in it and smelled something organic. There were some reminants of dried leaves in the pouch. Ameena's nose tingled even after she had removed it from the pouch. It was an odd sensation.

Falkor meanwhile had come to a stop outside the door, looking to the hand print recess. It must have been build for use by a humanoid, as it was hard for him to reach. In the end, he had to get a few of the planks to stand on, and jumped a little to properly fit his hand in.

Immediately there was another short-lived wail, the same as the alcove. Falkor could already hear the door at the far end of the corridor rumble to a booming close. However, this did not distract him from a more important sound. It was a strange high-pitched crack, as if...

Falkor's body was already propelling itself through the open doorway even as a pellet of green flew passed his shoulder and slammed into the wall. Falkor recognised the sound of a magic missle being summonded and fired, apparently from the very wall. The pellet had not just been fired at the recess, however. All along the corridor similar small green missiles had fired and exploded on the walls all through the corridor. Where each hit the wall, they exploded in a shower of green light that left a thick, green mist handing in the air. With great slowness, and ignoring any air currents, the green mist descended to the tiles. The miasma seemed to last forever, yet when it finally fell away the floor was clean, as if it had never existed.

No wonder the figure beyond the door had left them alone. If the Trolins had not smashed the doorway open, the party would surely have died by triggering whatevr toxic mist they had seen summoned. Falkor's actions would - hopefully - have alerted their unknown assailant only to the probably death of the intruders.

And there we go. Ameena won't be able to get close to the door while the mist is around because of the poisonous scent of it, but the rest of you should be fine as it is not drifting through the door. And yet when it is gone there will be nothing lingering at all. No harm, no foul, possibly Falkor even saved your lives later on.

Carry on tooling up. Don't worry about the massive amount of noise you've just generated twice now. Surely nothing else is closeby to investigate

[beowuuf]

Oops, double post with Ian!

Haynuus looked to the fountain for any way to turn it on, but sadly there was nothing. The water on the floor had to have been spillage from the bowl. There appeared to be no other way for the water to get into the bowl other than directly out of the cherub-like mouth. And the cherub looked all the more mocking for this fact, even after another punch. Could he tear the wall down?

[oh_brother]

Frustration again came to the surface when Westian saw the smashed glassware. Nothing useful remained, in fact he had to be careful to avoid cutting his hands as he worked. In desperation he examined the previous contents of the flasks, now simply stains on the floor. Suddenly he looked up he heard the magical missiles exploding in the corridor, as Falkor dashed through the archway. He sprang to his feet, about to run down the stairs, until he realised that the foul mists were not encroaching on the room itself.
"What in the hells was that?" he asked, to himself as much as anyone else. Seeing no further danger he resumed his previous searches, effectively tearing the cupboard apart in frustration.
When everyone seemed to be done searching, and Ameena rate of searching had slowed down somewhat he turned to the newly found pile of objects they had collected. "So friends, what have we got?"

[Ameena]

Ameena is across the room, sniffing around near the stairs when Falkor triggers the trap, so she fails to notice it because the poisonous clouds make no noise as they slowly dissipate. She is busy amassing her own little stash of interesting things. She fails to find a belt, but decides that a short stretch of thin rope will do. There are plenty of small pouches lying around which she knows she'll be able to easily attach to the rope and wear it as a kind of makeshift pouch-belt. But she doesn't do anything with the things yet - everything she finds, she keeps in her own little pile. Murafu don't hoard their finds from others - they compare their discoveries and share them around in whatever way works best.
One small pouch has some oddly-smelling leaves in it. She wonders whether one of the others will know what they are. Maybe they're magic in some way, though that's not quite the smell they seem to be giving off. She makes a mental note of which pouch it is, and puts it on her pile with the others.
Every now and then, she glances at the pile of things Haynuus and Westian have found, and wonders if they've found food. Though murafu can manage without food for a time, they generally try to eat small amounts throughout the day, to keep their strength up. She has no idea when she last ate, and the hunger, along with thirst, is starting to become a real distraction.
She hears Westian speak, and gathers that he and the others have finished searching. And his use of the word "friends" is somehow comforting. She skitters around the room, having one last sniff, makes another mental note to inquire about the strange-smelling dusty substance she's found on the wall, then returns to crouch beside her gathered pile.
"I've found some things I can use, and maybe some that you can use too. And a couple of things I want to ask about, in case one of you knows something."
She puts her head to one side.
"Where shall we start?"

[ian_scho]

Haynuus put his finger in his ear, thinking.

"We should share out the stuff, eat, drink and rest a little first. I'll stand guard for a while. No, wait. I'll sit guard."

He looked over the things on the floor, all neatly lied out. He couldn't believe it. When he'd fallen into a dungeon with his three orc friends before when you found something of value you got a punch in the face for it by the biggest brute. He'd learn't to roll a newly found coin or dagger under the feet of his boss. It was a sad memory as they lost Huruck to trolins and the rest had escaped with a nice set of chainmail. His two surviving friends basically killed each other over the ownership of it. He was the youngest and the smallest yet had survived with all the booty and a head full of nightmares.

He put his name next to some items, and waits for the rest to debate over it. Haynus finds it difficult to hold a conversation, let alone make a reasoned argument.

If there's time he'll take a look at the mold.

[Ameena]

Ameena sniffs through the things that the others have found. She finds a strap of a suitable length and inspects it closely.
"I can make myself a belt from this," she says, holding it up, "and I can attach some of these pouches along it. That's how we carry things, in case we need to run. But...for now, I'm really very hungry. And thirsty. You speak as though you've found food? Maybe we should see to that first..."
She looks around at everyone, wondering how much food there is, and how much the others will need. More than her, that's likely.

[beowuuf]

After the disruption of Falkor's entrance, the group got back to the task of arranging the room's contents into useful and useless. Westian and Falkor finally arranged in their oft-postponed discussion on the nature of magic. While it was clear speking 'to the other side' that their methods of invoking the powers of the world were strange, they both also had much in common.

As Falkor spoke of the runes of power whose name he remembered, the shape of 'UM' came clearly to Westian. It was a shape he'd written out hundreds of times, a simple square. The familiar wave of nausea and even some disorientation washed over him as he explained the shape and Falkor too his own turn with recollection and sick feelings.

In a way, the shared knowledge was still frustrating. Runes of power were meaningless, merely the opening formalities of imvoking the real runes. And the other runes, of alignment, simply flavoured the spells once the main runes were invoked. They needed to recollect more!

Falkor dimly recalled talk that powerful wizards had not heeded the 'normal' structure of spellcasting, finding that missing out elements thought key allowed loopholes in the natural effects. Of course, such wizards were usually called mad in the stories and never had happy endings. Alaphalon and Erkel being two such madmen whom Falkor had admired in childhood stories. Even more hushed had been the talk of the magic of High Lords. It was said that effects that, in ancient times, had destroyed other mages for trying, and forced normal mortal races to discover the runes of power had long been used by the High Lords...

Again to confirm, Westian and Falkor now know LO, UM, ON, NETA, DAIN, SAR.

Haynuus was surprised further by the amiable division of the find. Rather than grab more than their fair share, a first pass through the items by the group had led to people taking less than was there. After the 'loot' was finally shared out, and while the others were eating, Haynuus decided to have one last try at the fountain before settling down to guard duty. Perhaps if he pushed on the bowl itself, it might loosen the bricks where an attack on the face itself could not.

Ian, roll me a strength check if you want to try this hairbrained scheme of destruction of the wall. This check will be the culmation of alot of effort, so a take 20 isn't possible at this point unless you want to spend hours and hours exhausting yourself here doing it! (DM advice - not a good idea ) One other person can probably push on the bowl of the fountain too, and so roll a strength check to aid another' - ie if they roll a 10 or better after bonuses/penalties, Haynuus gets a +2 to his roll. If there are other forms of aid you all wish you administer, please roll a d20 (it'll probably be some form of check needed) and give details.

Or you can all rest and watch Haynuus's antics while eating

[oh_brother]

Westian sat down to wait until the others had finished searching through the room. Falkor had arrived a bit late, and a bit distracted, and so was still poking around, and Ameena showed no signs of tiring in her explorations. Soon however she mentioned food, that indeed was a welcome thought. "There are some rations scattered about here" - he indicated at the pile in the middle of the floor. Picking some up he handed a parcel at random to the Murafu, and opened one for himself. Chewing on a surprisingly tasty lump of cheese he offered another pack to Falkor. "Feeling hungry? It is not bad". He was about to offer a pack to Haynuus, but then noticed that the half-orc was currently gnawing on the ornate fountain-head instead.It took Westian a minute of quizzical observation to realise that Haynuus' intention was to somehow get access to whatever water source had originally supplied it.

[Ameena]

OOC - So the loot's been sort of auto-shared according to what everyone said they'd want? I sort of feel like we've skipped a bit, somehow, now...

BIC - Ameena decides to leave everything until she's eaten. Having received a share of the strange food, she sniffs at it carefully, not through any particular feeling that it might be poisoned or otherwise bad for her, but simply because that is what murafu do with unfamiliar food. It smells like a mix of several different types of food, all of which she is familiar with, at least to some extent. Then she nibbles at the edge a little. It doesn't taste too bad. And it's food!
But what about water? She has noticed that Haynuus seems rather preoccupied with trying to break apart the dried-up fountain. Maybe he thinks he can find water behind it - perhaps it's been blocked up inside. She wonders what will happen if he does manage to break it open. What if the whole wall collapses?
Having nibbled off a small amount of food, Ameena does as both murafu and rats do, and consumes no more for now. She looks around for a suitable pouch to put it in, and notices the oen she'd found before, with the strange-smelling leaves inside it. She picks it up and looks around at the others in the group.
"I found this." she says. "It has some strange leaves in it. I thought maybe they were used for...well, I don't know. Don't some people use strange-smelling leaves to mix together and...make...things?"
She holds up the pouch, casting her eyes around the group to see if someone will take a look at it and possibly identify the strange leaves.

[beowuuf]

Yeah, the loot has been shared as people have implicitly mentioned and stated on the OOC thread. I thought it was referenced enough, but feel free to make mention to anything else.

I'm willing to hear how people want to diagnose or try the leaves. The 'correct' check would be a knowledge (nature) which no one has, so creative proposals for checks, or other methods to try the leaves are welcome. Or, of course, you can 'leave' them for now (haha) and see if you meet someone who can identify them later.

[ian_scho]

Mold was found both near a constant source of moisture, and on something to 'consume'. Obviously the culture formed around parts of Haynuus's leather trousers had a tough time of it but here in the dungeon it was strange to Haynuus that the stone walls were dry yet the mold's scent adhered to parts of it quite strongly. It was as if the whole corridoor would get inundated for long periods of time and yet by the time they had arrived some trolin had mopped it all up. He'd detected no traces of attrition on the walls indicating flowing water over long periods of time, nor did he see any grates at floor level. There was the stairs he supposed, which he would be lumbering down later.

The mold confused him, and that thought made him sneeze... Nearly blowing the tiny sack of dried leaves Ameena had placed under his nose out of her hands.

"Whoa, you wanna me to sniff what?"
My first ever nasal die roll... (1d20=14)

[beowuuf]

Haynuus brought his nose in deep to smell the leaves. His nose couldn't really tell more than Ameena's could, surely? Then again, perhaps he could tell what it was not...

It didn't have the strange scent that alot of the plants Haynuus had accidentally and deliberately come into contact with possessed. Not lungrot, wormgut, itchy lichweed, purplefoot, dribbleleaf, blindroot, stumbleroot, stickyweed... the leaves did not remind him of any of those.

Actually, he'd never properly smelled itchy lichweed (having used it...well, in a way that put it far from his nose) but he'd been told you'd recognise the smell of lichweed as soon as you inhaled it, and he didn't recognise the smell so obviously it coulnd't be lichweed. Besides, Haynuus's nose had not broken out in a large spread of itchy lumpy rash yet.

Surely if it was nothing harmful, then it must be beneficial?

[oh_brother]

Westian joined the small group that was forming around the leaves. He examined them, but could offer no advice. His knowledge of herbs was significantly lacking.

He briefy discussed with the group about how to divide up their new equipment, everyone seemed to reach an agreement very quickly. "If I take a backpack I can carry some of the general materials - if it gets too heavy I will let people know. And we just divide up the remaining food and carry our own?"

He sat down again, content to rest until everyone was ready. "So what should we do? Descend to the lower levels straight away? Or get a few minutes rest to keep ourselevs alert?"

[Ameena]

Ameena looks around at the things people are starting to pick out for themselves. No-one seems to be touching the smaller pouches, yet she knows she can make use of them. She picks up a nearby spare strap and starts skilfully attaching pouches to it after first ensuring that the strap can serve as a suitable belt.
Then she looks at the water-holders and frowns, putting her head on one side as she considers. Flitting her gaze around the pile a bit, she notices a small flask which she could easily stuff into another pouch. Then she looks back up at the group.
"Those are too big for me." she says, pointing at one of the larger water-holder. "I wouldn't be able to carry one easily. And we don't have enough for all of us anyway. But if I can put some water in this..."
She picks up the water flask.
"I can carry this easily enough."

[oh_brother]

Handing her the water bottle he was carrying, Westian indicated that she could fill up her smaller flask. "Haynuus and I can carry the full containers. We should probably hold on to the damaged one also, we may find a means to repair it. Anyone feel like carrying it? Falkor?". As he spoke Westian realised that even if they repaired it there was no way to fill it up...what if all the fountains were blocked? The thought of a limited supply of water made his throat feel dry, but he resisted the urge to drink any more and tried to put that unpleasant thought out of his mind.

He decided to change his thoughts, and looked at Ameena filling her flask. "It looks like a hip-flask, shame it is empty! Considering the day we have had we probably could all do with something a bit stronger" he added, wishing to introduce a tone of levity into the group, for his own sake as much as anyone else's. While sitting he had had time to think, and his thoughts naturally were not pretty. He sensed the initial anxiety he had felt come once more near the surface now that the frantic activity had died down, and he felt the need to focus on something else. "Do ra- I mean, do Murafu drink alcohol?" He knew from his days working in the kitchens of his school that common rats lacked the ability to vomit, making them easy to posion. If Murafu had the same trait...then possibly they could avoid some of the worst effects of alcohol? Maybe they were legendary drinkers? Such were the thoughts Westian entertained to try to prevent himself thinking too deeply about his situation.

[money]

Falkor was relieved that everyone was still ok, and that he had realised the trap before it had got to him - still all this excitement had made him feel somewhat tired. Following his discussion with Westian he had also managed to recall the power runes which also gave him hope that soon the remaining spells that he had forgotton would once more be all too familier. While the others picked up the items they wished to take with them Falkor, listening to Westians suggestions picked up the broken bota and looked for a needle and thread on the discarded canvases. With this he would be able to repair some of the damage... perhaps not the most watertight container - but as they progressed it was most likely going to get harder and harder if they did not have the right provisions.

[Ameena]

Ameena twitches her whiskers and nods at Westian, a gesture to thank him for the water. She fills her little water-flask, making sure not to spill any drops. Then she drinks a little, tilting the flask toward her and lapping at the edge. She then puts the cap back on her flask and stows it away in a suitably-sized pouch. Her belt is almost complete, and as she reaches for another pouch to add, she considers Westian's question.
"Alcohol?" she asks. "I...think I've heard of that, but I'm not sure. I have seen other species drinking many different things - maybe I've seen alcohol but didn't know it. I know I've seen people in those buildings, the ones they call taverns. They drink lots of different things - none of it smells too good to me, but they seem to enjoy it, even though it makes them act differently. Some of them start dancing and singing loudly, some fall asleep, some even start fights. And they don't seem to be able to walk properly, either. I don't know why they do such things to themselves, but...I've only been wandering for a couple of...years, you call them. And maybe half of that time was spent away from places where races like yourselves live. Because...well...most of them didn't seem to like me much."
She adds this last part in a slightly apologetic tone, not wanting to seem as though she's blaming Westian, or, indeed, any of the others, for the way members of their speceis have treated her in the past.

[beowuuf]

Awww. You can sneak in a comment or two while getting ready and going down the stairs, but I think it's time to head down!


The party, depsite the strangeness of the previous encounters, managed to relax for a while and get their bearings. The food satisfied their bellies, and the rest itself allowed them to dwell on the matters most on their mind. Despite the smashed open door and especially the dark stairs, the room was not particularly cold. The light from the walls obviously gently heated the place aswell.

Haynuus, having been defeated by the fountain, settled down to being an effective sentry. Certainly, nothing came up the stairs. The torch carried on burning strongly, not waivering nor getting any lower. The mold seemed to be of two types. Whatever was on the walls that seemed light and flaky - dead almost. And whatever was deep within the fountain's mouth. That smelled wet and strong. Had the lack of water in this room meant the mold on the wall had dried out?

At one point Ameena realised she had stopped smelling something. What could be mistaken for dying mold was apparently not. Some whiff of death had gone. Perhaps Haynuus had scared something away?

Falkor had settled down to repair the last bola. His training as a wizard had left him nimble of finger, and more importantly wizards were expected to develop practical arts. After all, if a wizard didn't directly learn to interact with the world in small ways, how could they expect to manipulate it later. Making clothes, working with metal, cooking, these were all odd skills certain wizards picked up. Falkor noted that the bola wasn't ripped as was first thought, had been bitten into! Most likely one of the Trolins - unwilling or unable to manipulate the stopper - had just attacked the water and drank what was needed. The canvas patch, with enough neat stitching, seemed to provide at least the hope of sealing the bola for occasional use.

Westian engaged the interesting ra...murafu... in conversation, all the while trying not to dwell on troubling thoughts. However, memories of his previous time here came back to him. He recalled the elders remarking that the Grey Lord had maintained the dungeons of Chaos for whatevre reasons the Grey Lord had. While certain aspects had been tamed, still it was said the Grey Lord or Theron, together with selected champions, would venture deep into the mountain for various reasons.

The party was obviously at the entrance to the dungeons that once belonged to Chaos. The hand recess at the door was obviously a lock - a powerfully and deadly trapped lock as seen - to keep external visitors from venturing down. If such a fatal trap was in place to stop the dungeon from being accidentally opened, then were Trolins the worst creatures the party could expect to encounter?

Eventually, the party finished their rest. The matter could only be postponed so long - the only way out was apparently down. They could all feel it.


Ok, so there we go. I think the party have had enough safety, time to be gosh darned brave again and venture downwards!

[ian_scho]

Our seated half-orc looked at the receeding darkness the stairs offered him with unfocussed eyes. Unlike other humanoids the blackness offered neither fear nor escape for Haynuus. The source of his distress came from his past actions and of those to come from down the stairs.

Haynuus was reared in the plains below the citadel of Hugsplahh. As part of an orclings tutoring they would have to help manage the goblins that helped with menial tasks and occasionally became the source of protein in times of strife. These were wretched and deprived creatures that would always single out those of their masters that showed any sign of weakness. The orcs thought it a useful way of instilling a certain toughness in their young. Haynuus's job was basically to get a gang of goblins to haul goods up the slope and attempt to stop them from fornicating all the time, expending energy that could otherwise have been used in more useful activities.

It was murderous. They called him 'little pinky' and immediately hooked on to the fact that he was weaker than the other orcs. At just 11 years of age he was handed a club and a whip and told to move the crates up the treacherous winding path to the mouth of the citadel, where ogres awaited to pick them up and maybe an unfortunate goblin for a tasty snack. It was humiliated being overtaken by other goblin trains driven by crueller masters or even those orcs enjoying themselves. His goblins would drop the boxes or stop every 20 steps to fight, fuck or even attempt to flee. Their capacity to absorb pain was amazing, supersceded only by their ability to forget the lesson inflicted by the half-orc an hour earlier and he had to beat them all over again.

The continual strife and senselessness of the goblins would at times overwhelm Haynuus who realised that he would not survive in these conditions for long.

The goblins occasionally broke. This means that a goblin could suffer no more, that it's mind was shredded, that it would just stop working. The more experienced orc masters would see this and simply kill the wretched creature on the spot. Haynuus never knew. When one of them stopped working in his haulage gang then he tried the usual club across the back. Then pushing it back to the box it had dropped. Frustration set in when the others stopped working to look. They knew, he didn't. He was infuriated. He dropped his club, picked up the goblin by it's wisp of hair on it's head and repeatedly punched it in the face. Agh! It just stood there, eyes far away, mocking him. It was then he realised that ALL of the goblins had stopped and were suddenly observing him. It was like a deathly silence. He knew that if he was weak now, they would never do what he ordered. Their eyes were blank, yet looked as if they were going to set on him any moment.

It was Haynuus's time to break. Sheer fear propelled him to pick up the wretched creature and with all his might hurl it over the side of the track, down the steep slope below. It's body bounced and flailed it's way down like a rag doll, where it landed on another part of the track below. Another orc master, kindly, picked up the goblin between it's arms and parted it'd head from it's body tossing it away.

Haynuus returned his view to the goblins in his gang. They looked elsewhere, suddenly interested in their work they picked up the various boxes and bags and started walking. The whole caravan of goblins and their masters returned to normality as if nothing had happened. Looking back across the plain to the darkness between the mountains he vowed to escape to the land of the humans and try to find a life there.

Yes Haynuus was stepping into the mouth of hell once more, but he'd be fighting for what's right this time. He slowly got to his feet, and refocussed.

"Let's move."

[Ameena]

Her belt finished, Ameena puts it on, securing it around her slim waist and ensuring it feels comfortable no matter how she stands. The numerous pouches she's attached don't weigh her down too much, and they don't really get in her way. Well, that's good. She puts her share of the food in one pouch, and already has her water-flask in another.
Scanning her eyes over the rest of the pile, her eyes fall on the gathered weapons. Remembering the blue troll-creatures, she knows that if they ever get out of this place, they're unlikely to do so without having a few more fights along the way. While she'll bite something if she has no other way to avoid it, she knows how to wield a knife too. Maybe she should take one, not knowing what kind of things they'll encounter down the stairs.
She moves closer to the knives and pulls the three smaller ones toward her, sniffing at each of them and hefting them in turn, deciding which one to take. All are fairly sharp, and have wooden handles. They don't seem crafted for combat, and she suspects that none of them will last long against something with a very tough hide or any kind of solid protection. One has a slightly wider blade than the other two, and of those two, one has a handle which wobbles slightly when she pulls at it. Hmm, best not take that one, then. She eyes up the other two, then decides on the one with the narrower blade - it might be better at penetrating small cracks and the like.
The knife has no sheath, so she just attaches it to her belt on a loop of cord in such a way that hopefully she won't end up accidentally stabbing herself in the side later. Then she looks around at the others and her gaze falls on the dried-up fountain.
Rising to her hindpaws, she walks over and bends down, sniffing around it. But she's barely got close when something in the smell clogs up her nose and she sneezes, stepping back a little at the same time to avoid doing so again. Odd. This substance seems somehow slightly different to the which coats the walls. She has a sudden unpleasant thought that perhaps the mouldy substance is alive in some way, and has been feeding on the water inside the fountain. That would certainly explain why the fountain isn't flowing, but not how the mould-like substance has managed to spread so far around the room. Maybe this room once had damp walls, but the mould consumed all the dampness and dried out.
Her thoughts are interrupted by Haynuus declaring that they should move. She looks around and up at him, whiskers twitching, then glances over at the others. She should say something, she decides.
"This...sunbstance." she ventures, pointing toward the fountain. "I think...well, maybe it's alive. Maybe it's drunk all the water, and no more can flow because it's in the way, drinking it all. Maybe it's...like a plant, or something."
She looks back toward the fountain.
"But I've never seen a plant like this."

[ian_scho]

"Mold? Blocking the fountain?" Haynuus knew the power of water. They used it under pressure in some of the open cast mines where he'd seen the goblins toil in to extract iron and copper.

If the mold grew in such quantities to block the flow of water here, what would it be like as they travelled deeper, closer to the water table? Mold thrived in wet environments yet never consumed it, never stopped it's flow. Ameena was right to be worried.

"If there's too much mold, we should wear something over mouth?... We take a look first." and with that a big toothy grin was returned to Ameena.

[oh_brother]

The significance of the mould had passed Westian by, to him it just seemed normal that a dark, damp dungeon would be mouldy. He watched the others examine it though, and noted their interest. "Do you think it is edible? Maybe we can find the source of it downstairs?" He was not looking forward to going into the dungeon proper, but the longer he waited the more nervous he felt. There was no going back, only going down. And his dry throat was a constant reminder that their supplies would not last forever.

[Ameena]

Ameena's nose wrinkles at Westian's suggestion.
"Edible? I don't want to eat that." she says. "It doesn't smell right. My nose doesn't like it. Or it doesn't like my nose. Either. Or both. I think it might be something bad..."

[beowuuf]

Finally, the group were ready top make their descent. Ameena taking the lead, but followed closely by the two fighters. Falkor took the rear, all the better to see above the rest or duck behind them as needed.

Unlike back at the grate where the darkness had sucked upon the torchlight, the darkness of the crude stone stairs did retreat to Haynuus's torchlight. The stairs were slick in places from the dribbled water of the waterskin. The air was colder, noticeably colder as they decscended, accounting for the chills some felt. Mostly.

All could smell - Haynuus a little more and Ameena most of all - an odor that set them instantly on edge. It was the musty smell of a tomb. It was the smell of ancient death.

The stairs down were steep, yet not too long. The torchlight expanded eagerly at the bottom of the stairs to explode into a revealed hall. The walls were crumbling yet elegant, and the ceiling higher than expected. The noticeable thing in the hall were sarcophigi. They were attached to the walls at regular intervals, stretching with the torchlight.

Falkor, can make a knowledge (dungeoneering) check for me please? Not to do with the sarcophagi, I think everyone can guess about those!

Apparently a passageway to the right had become blocked off. The party did not need to worry about foes coming from their side. As the torchlight spilled out, it touched the dominant centrepiece of the hall. However, at that the radius of the light dimmed and refused to illuminate well much beyond it. The centrepiece seemed to be a more ornate sarcophigi, set on a small dias. Like the rest of the sarcophagi, it seemed to be open.

The floor spoke of what had perhaps happened to the group the Trolins had mentioned earlier. Many clubs lay haphazardly strewn around the floor. In many cases, scraps and heaps of some bandage-like material lay around. There was much dust on the floor, some in small heaps.

All the group remembered the tales of the mummies of Lord Chaos's dungeon. That the Grey Lord had lain them to rest so close seemed...strange. Those creatures had always been spoken of in horror. Had the 'scraps' of the Trolin band been here, mummies of legend slain in a desperate battle? If so, had any survived?

There seemed to be a set of double doors further along on the right hand wall as they faced the hall. Empty torch sconces were dotted around aswell.

Falkor could see nothing further than this, the hall stretching beyond sight. He tried to strain his ears, though the crackle of the torch and the breathing of his companions masked much.

Ameena could not smell anything stronger to hint at a moving enemy in this musty tomb. Although the hall was large (stretching beyond her sight), and there had been the stronger odor earlier.

It was left to Westian and Haynuus, with their superior vision in different ways, to spot something further than most...


Welcome to level 2! Falkor and Ameena are free to take whatever actions they wish, including making a perception check.

Haynuus's and Westian's specific view on the events will be PMed separately. Feel free to describe it to the rest, and act accordingly...

I had gone to tone down this area, but then figured you guys are good enough to handle the original intent. Good luck!

[beowuuf]

Map (narrative described party view, while map follows on the orientation of the previous level. I can turn it around if you like?)

[oh_brother]

Westian squinted towards the far end of the room, and then stopped dead in his tracks. He held up a hand to alert the others and to get their attention. With his index finger he pointed towards the end of the room, to the right side of the large tomb. Then he held up one finger, to indicate that whatever was there, there was one of it. He gripped his club tightly, and looked at the others, his head nodding forward to indicate that they should all approach.

[ian_scho]

Haynuus grunted in agreement to Westian. His half-orc sight caught something in the distant gloom as well, but he was distracted as Falkor wanted to light up a couple of torches from the one the half-orc had in his left hand. For now all he did was make sure that his spare torch stuck out of his backpack to be easily retrieved if necessary. There were times that he hated his orc heritage, but at this moment he was thankful for his night sight.

Conscious that there are so many half opened sarcophagi around he would advance slowly behind Ameena, giving her all the space she needed to work her senses, yet close enough to afford protection. It would be the mufaroohoo or whatever she was that would be searching for the danger as it was always Haynuus that usually ended up tripping over sleeping trolin. Haynuus suddenly realised that when it came to entering a new area, Ameena was in charge.