Dungeon Master Forum

Relieved that the battle was over, and that everyone had escaped unscathed - Falkor turned to the group to see Westian offer Ameena a helping hand.. by all accounts, they had worked well together.. It felt like a start, a start to what Falkor thought. In any case it was perhaps time he continued his look at the strange markings around the room. He moved the second Alcove (Anti-Clockwise) and focused on the runes.

Westian helped Ameena to her feet, and continued to try and get both herself and Haynuus into better frame of mind. A few kind words, some reassuring physical contact and an open ear often worked wonders. He also touched on the topic of moving on. "The longer we stay here the more chances someone else will find us. I say we move forward - cautiously - perhaps with you looking ahead Ameena? Haynuus and I can take a club each and be ready in case anything comes near".

But some of his attention was constantly focused on Falkor, and after awhile he got up and walked over towards him. Falkor seemed unaffected by the encounter, so Westian avoided any chit-chat and went straight into discussing magic. He discussed his reminisces of the runes, tracing the only symbol he remembered in the air. "LO. LO".

"How about you Falkor? I see you have been able to cast some spells, although I heard no runes. Did you know any runes before? Have you remembered anything?"

Haynuus noted the club on the floor, and looked at the torch in his hand. Ironic that the only member of the team that could see quite well in pitch dark was the half-orc, yet he was holding the only light source. He made a decision, the torch was effectively an improvised weapon, yet it had served him well. Others could make use of the spare club.

He kicked the club on the floor to... Ameena, he recalled it titled itself. It rolled and echoed on the hard stone floor not far from a pair of clawed feet.

"You should take it." And then thought. Maybe he was assuming too much, as he'd never seen a creature like this before. "... If you can use it."

Observing the others inspecting and talking he thought he might do something useful. But what?! It was picking nose time to help him think.

It suddenly dawned Haynuus that the club was too big to wield for some of his team mates. Maybe swapping the club for the torch, and offering it to Ameena instead then.

"Wait", he held the torch out to Ameena. "It's a magic torch that makes the monster disappear." he grinned, showing dirty brown teeth.

Ameena is just wondering what questions she can start asking Westian, when he wanders over to the halfling and starts talking to him instead. Well, alright then...
Then the half-orc, Haynnus, turns his attention in her direction. He kicks one of the wooden clubs toward her, suggesting that she can use it. She looks down at it, and is just trying to work out a way of saying that such a weapon would be far too big for her (considering it looks to be almost half her size and probably made of fairly solid wood), when Haynuus appears to change his mind and thrusts the torch at her instead.
She shies nervously away from it, her ears flattening back. She blinks in the bright light, takes a step backward, and squints up at the half-orc.
"I...prefer not to get so close to fire, if you don't mind." she says. "You know, fur and all that..."
She does, however, have a bit of a sniff in the direction of the torch, though she doesn't move any closer for it - what better time to see whether the Magic smell is emanating from such a source?

OOC - Rolling a d20 for whatever check (Perception?) will be needed to see...err...smell whethr there's anything funny about the torch's smell...omfg...2 lol.

The smell of burning wood was overpowering.

Plus I'm sure Ameena isn't getting too close, what with the fire risk - hence the 2 is explained!

Attempting to sniff the scent of a burning torch at this kind of proximity just causes particles cast out by the flame to get up Ameena's nose ad after a moment of it twitching furiously, she sneezes. Not an explosive sneeze as Haynuus or some other large creature might perform, but more a kind of timid-sounding "Choofff", like that of a rat amplified slightly, and without any noticeable discharge.
Ameena shakes her head briefly, takes another half-step away from Haynuus, and looks up at him slightly sheepishly.
"Sorry." she says.

"Heh." The half-orc smiles. Of course the... What did it call itself, Murufarooh? thing had an excellent sense of smell as well. Haynuus wriggled his fingers on the torch and created what looked like a standing wave with his greasy eye brows - "ooops, sorry too. Here, yours."

"Where you from?", he then picked up the club in his other hand.

Haynuus was to conversation as Genghis Khan was to Feng Shui[*][/color].

[*][/color] The severed heads of your enemies over your fireplace, ballistae bolts in your hallway and a battle-axe over your bed. Not designed to relax the visitor at all.

Falkor was focusing all his attention on the Alcoves, he had heard Westian mutter to him although he had no idea what he had muttered! He had made the decision to use what time he had to read the remaining alcoves, especially the next one - this could actually prove of some use to him (he hoped). As for the rest - well perhaps they could take an alcove each and then 'chat' at the end.... He quickly turned to Westian, "Sorry... I have little time for idle chat, what is important now is understanding what the runes on these alcoves can tell... perhaps it will help us remember what should be all too familer. If you can examine around each alcove starting over there" Falkor pointed to the alcove that was first clockwise from entering the room. "Then perhaps at the end we can discuss our findings, if there are any"

With this Falkor turned to the next Alcove and stared his next thorough examination...

Westian tried to hide his irritation at being ignored, but perhaps the halfling had a point. They could speak at any time, but they would have to check these alcoves before they left.

He examined the alcoves. Looking at one he stared at it for a while, his irritation giving rise to frustration as he could not decipher what should have been simple for him. Clerics healing those in pain, this should be straight-forward. Looking upwards to a large tree painted above the alcove he squinted in deep concentration and then almost collapsed as a wave of recognition rolled over him. Ah, things were slowly coming back to him. But not enough, he needed to keep examining the paintings.

Ameenas ears prick up at Haynuus's question. At last! Conversation! A chance to finally get to know one of these people, to share knowledge about each other.
"I'm from...well, I don't know how far it is from here, since I don't know whre we are." she begins, eagerly and perhaps a little too quickly, as though worried Haynuus will decide to stop the conversation and leave her to go and do something else. "And...I don't remember everything about...myself..."
This notion is an uncomfortable one, so she continues with what she can remember.
"We're born among the family. We're all family, I mean. Murafu, that is. All like family, and all friends. I...don't really understand much about other species - the way they seem so eager to find reasons to hurt each other. Or even kill each other. We aren't like that. Those of us who travel go out and explore the world. We meet each other. We try to make friends among other species. We give and share information with each other about things we know. That's how those who stay within tribes get to learn about the world, since not all of us travel. But I do. Well, I did. Now I seem to be...well...stuck."
She glances around at the dull grey stone walls, and up at the dull grey stone ceiling, and down at the dull grey stone floor, then looks back up at Haynuus. She could have got stuck in a more interesting place, really. There isn't even much to smell down here. At least, not in this particular location.
On the thought of smells, her nose starts to twitch in Haynuus's direction. She wants to investigate his scent properly, as she wants to do with the others too, but restrains herself, reminding herself yet again that most such creatures don't like such behaviour. And the half-orc is so big, he could easily step on her, or something, if he got too annoyed. Even standing upright, the top of her head is still some way below his waist.

Ahhh Ameena's a Murafur... For some reason it was difficult for Haynuus to remember.

Glancing quickly down the two open doorways he replies.
"I don't remember either. Maybe I've met a... Murafooh before, eh?"

"I get headache sometimes." He then notices the whiskers on Ameena's face twitching. "So you smell good? I mean you can smell them monsters coming? I can see in dark, but nose..." (picture the scene of an half-orc pulling a finger out of an ear -ploop!- to squish it's nose up almost between it's eyes) "... not so good." With that he now had a club in his right hand and the torch in the left, the flame nearly singing his ear as he had put his hand on his face. His friends never gave him two things to do at once.

Westian was oblivious to what was going on around him as he became more and more engrossed in the art work on the walls. Walking over to the alcove on the northern wall he fell to his knees and with eyes closed began to quietly pray "Lord Larethian, your most humble servant asks for your aid. Grant me the wisdom to see and understand whatever you place before me. Open my eyes and my mind that I may better serve you and bring glory to your name." Slowly opening his eyes and standing up he examined the alcove in front of him with an eerie intensity.

Ameena's whiskes twitch in faint amusement, even as her mind works to wonder about their circumstances.
"Yes, I can smell things...not meaning not sound rude, but better than most creatures I've met, like yourself, and...humans, and other such races. My ears are sharp too, and my whiskers can sense anything they touch, but sometimes I don't see so well. And, well...as you can see, I'm not so tall compared to all you others."
To demonstrate, she raises herself up about as high as she can stand, and still doesn't come up as far as Haynuus's waistline.
"So I see you're what's known as a half-orc." she comments, then puts her head to one side inquisitively. "What's the other half? Human?"

"Definitely Not a dwarf!" Haynuus laughter echoes around the dungeon.... Ooops.

Lol, you don't have to encourage trouble Ian... it will find you, don't worry....


It seemed as if the stress of the Trolin confrontation had disappeared as swiftly as the bodies of the fallen Trolin. Haynuus and Ameena were left to amiable discussion while Falkor, followed by Westian, looked to the next unchecked alcove.

The revealed piece - depicting the Age of the Priest that had just ended with the catastrophe of the Grey Lord - was obviously part of a series, a series capped by the thawing of the races from the power gem on the first alcove, and the fight of the Grey Lord and Lord Chaos in the last alcove.

Falkor moved to the preceding alcove eagerly, for he knew this piece would depict what was known as The Age of the Wizard. Just before recorded history, it was known that the races of the world had finally managed to master the skills of the High Lord. By gaining knowledge of runes, and building upon the magical energy of Mana that anyone could store, the other races had invoked powerful magic. In terms of development it was an impressive feat. However, most races now attribute the twisted forms of monsters, the deepest chasms and most jagged mountains to this time. It was said as those nations and individuals gained power over magic, wars begun that had never been seen before. It was said the Age of the Priest was in response to this, clerical orders and nations healing their wounds and turning to more benefical magics.

Luckily, the engravings around the fourth alcove did not care about this aspect of the age. Instead, the carving was dominated by a towering humanoid figure. Either the artist was making a statement about the lesser race's rise to power, or the artist had managed to miss the point of the story he depicted. The High Lord Baldor - renown for his knowledge of Mana - was clearly depicted as the wizard finally mastering the runes of power. Baldor, whose name still lived on in one of the greatest city-states, a city-state run my magocracy, was depicted as a normal if tall human with four arms.

One hand was raised, invoking lightning that struck the ground, forming a chasm that was cunningly woven into the alcove opening. His other hand on that side held a staff, and on his other side his two hands were held in parallel in some odd somantic gesture of spellcasting.

At first Falkor appeared to have been frustrated, for there were no obvious runes written in the picture. Finally Falkor saw that below the alcove opening, two words in a flowery script were written - FUL YA.

Falkor knew the names were for runes, but despite deep thinking he could not invoke any memory of using them nor seeing their shape. He looked to the figure again, and then his mind seemed to open - causing him to feel so nauseous he thought he would collapse.

Baldor was holding his staff in an odd way, his arm kinked strangely. And suddenly Falkor saw the rune of the wizard in his mind, as clear as day, enacted by the figure. DAIN. The rune burned clearly in Falkor's mind from seeing it everywhere during his training in wizardly ways.

And with that opening, Falkor's mind let him see the significance of the hands held out flat in parallel. ON. The equalising rune of power.

It was said before the Age of the Wizard, lesser races had tried to cast the runes of element they had discovered, and had been obliterated. Such was the price of trying High Lord magic. It was only when the first true wizard discovered the rune of ON, the rune of power, that he could truly control the elements he invoked. The natural strength of the runes was still too powerful for some, and lesser runes of power had been uncovered. Falkor's mind snapped shut, even as words spilled in his limd. UM. LO. And he even remember the name of the rune of power above ON - EE!

As quickly as the revelations had came, his mind snapped shut again.

Sorry for the long post. Falkor, you now know the runes of DAIN and ON. However, you know the names of the first four runes of power. This might be something you can use later, or discuss with Westian now.

Westian's prayer invoked a familiar feeling that Westian had forgotten. The prayer did not make him feel calm, instead he felt - warm. And connected, as if temporarily joined to the world. Westian's own exploration took him to the second alcove. As expected, this alcove depicted the first age of legends - the Age of the Fighter.

The demons did not relinquish their claim on the world just because of the power of the Power Gem. Seeking to trick the powers that had created rule to the world, they took mortal form in what today are called dragons. The High Lords stood tall and fought the monsters where they were strongest, but the High Lords were few in number.

It was up to the other races, those whom had been gifted the world, to prove themselves worthy of it. The Age of the Fighter is said to have been the time when the boundaries of the world were formed. Many races were destroyed utterly, and only those that lived today survived. The dragons were eventually destroyed or tamed, and the demon bred out. It is thought this was the golden age of all the races. Having fought side by side, they spread out into the world rightfully theirs together, marking boundaries of mutual respect.

The engraving itself has the chaotic forms of demons swirling into the forms of dragons depicted on the left, the dragons fearsome and unfortunately realistic looking. In the background, carved at a respectful size, are visible High Lords combating dragons whose names are feared even today as deep spirits of the earth. However, centrally is shown a figure of perhaps a human or elf, clad in plate mail, sword brandished pointing to his foes, hair streaming in some breeze. The alcove seems to represent some mountain, in the shadow of which is destruction. However, the scene of the land changes as the eye scans right, and the land becomes peaceful and unravaged by the time the engraving finishes at the bottom right.

Westian can divine nothing from the carving itself, and there is nothing inside the alcove. However, some strange tingling draws his gaze upwards again. He looks, not to the sword of the fighter, nor the dragons, but instead his sight is bounced between the demons behind the dragons, and the figure of the fighter itself. When looking at the demons, he feels a deep unease. Like one who has made a mistake, and feels the slow dread that one day it may come back to haunt him. Meanwhile, the figure of the fighter gives him a greater reaction. The fighter is carved as heroic, and the story of the piece should invoke nothing but pride and admiration. However, all Westian can feel looking at the figure is a feeling of utter loathing and fear. For a moment the plain grey carving of the armour seems black, and then it is as if the carvings are floating above the wall, the fighter translucent. As quickly as it has come, the vision has gone. Westian feels nothing from the piece, except the residual feelings of such a strange vision.

Westian recognises it as a sign from his god. Sadly, direct guidance is seldom obvious. However, Westian also knows such direct messages are rare. What can they mean?


Oblivious to the person revelations of the two across the room, Ameena and Haynuus continued to talk. Haynuus saw no signs of danger, nor heard anything troubling coming from the exits. Looking closer at the opening stone doorframe the Trolins had come from, Haynuus thought his original supposition were true - that these frames must have doors ready to descent. There seemed to be subtle channels in the wall around.

Haynuus felt his stomach rumble. He felt hungry - very hungry, as if he had not eaten in days. Funnily enough, the idea of eating Ameena no longer seemed palatable. Not because she was talking to him, there seemed to be something deeper. Just like he would not think to eat his own hand, it was some odd training that he did not want to eat Ameena. where had that come from?

As Ameena spoke, she was always testing the air. Having been in the room for a while, she still could detect no obvious new scents. In some ways the room was good for scents - there were no winds to nor sun to disperse the smell. However, the stone seemed too clean, and there were very few places for the scent to 'cling' to, the area between the stones seemed too clean. However, it slowly came to her nose a taste of something - metal. No one in the room was wearing any, and it was too widespread. The reason Ameena had not, perhaps, noticed it before was that it was everywhere in the room. Either something large and metal had been in this room, or many metal things - or metal wearing people - had filled this room.

The smell was disrupted when Westian spoke to himself across the room. For a moment, the air was filled with the subdued scent of magic, presumably barely detected to anyone else not gifted with Ameena's nose.


Whew. Sorry for the verbose update! Hopefully that's given you guys stuff to think about. Well, except Haynuus, even though his part is actually one of the most important

Ameena, Haynuus, carry on talking if you like. Westian, Falkor - are you both going to speak about your own revelations, or are you both going to end up examining alcove number three together?

The excitement rushed through every part of Falkors body, suddenly everything had seemed so clear to him, the power, the runes, it was like learning it all again but in a flash - not the many years he had previously spent learning, working, missing out on the growing up his friends... and as quickly as it had returned it left him again. Falkor was struggling to control his emotions and let out a quiet whimper, which he hoped went un-noticed. Showing emotions at this time would surely be seen as a sign of weakness by the others.

With this, he drew a great breath, let out a long sigh and continued to the next alcove... perhaps this would tell him more, perhaps this time the memories would remain, perhaps after examining this one both he and Westian could things out between them...

Looking at Westian, Falkor spoke "Westian, lets examine this last Alcove- then we must talk for i hope we can help each other out"

The half-orc cocked an eye to the two studious acolytes. They seemed in their element attempting to discern the predicament, yet they provided no answers. Some spell casters were like that. Well read, learned and polite - but very little use when the shit hits the trolin[+]. He appreciated the cleric standing next to him when the danger approached though. That one had the balance correct between study and the martial arts.

Haynuus had gotten to know Ameena a little better now. He didn't appreciate how fragile the creature was, yet it was full of surprises. One to look after should danger approach, as Haynuus had learnt that those that took the biggest risks weren't always the ones standing in the front row. He continued the conversation:

"Sooo. Food good where you come from?" Stop thinking about your stomach you fool!

[+] An old orc saying. It's secondary meaning being don't throw your faeces at their faces.

Haynuus feels queasy for a moment (not because of thoughts of food, food is - of course - good). Instead, it was a strange feeling. Thinking on his current companions, and their safety, he had an odd sense of danger. Yet nothing seemed wrong. Why was his gaze drawn to the doorway?

At Haynuus's mention of food, Ameena wonders when it was she last ate.
"Food? Well, yes. Sometimes, anyway. I eat what I can get. But...we don't eat like other creatures seem to - I see many other races going for many hours without food. Then they sit down and eat a lot of it, and go for hours without it again. We don't do that. We eat smaller amounts, but more often. Much smaller amounts. I...used to carry food with me. Not much, just a few little snacks, really. Perhaps for myself, or to share with friends I might meet..."
Friends. There was that word again. When would she remember them? Would she ever? And why did she keep getting whiffs of Magic every now and then?

Westian nods as Falkor speaks, and walks over to join him by the third alcove. He seemed preoccupied, his mind was running over what he had just seen, trying to figure out what it meant. But when he stood in front of the alcove he pushed those thoughts to one side and focused closely on the illustrations.

Haynuus indicated to Ameena, "I think... I feel... In case of something approaching stand behind me." And with that he stood between the open doorway and Ameena. Fully alert, club ready in one hand, torch in the other.

Ameena's nose twitches in alarm.
"Something coming?" she asks, nervously. "I didn't smell anything. But...there's no wind. But I can't hear anything coming, either."
She glances over at where the other two are still looking at the strange stone carvings.
"Should we tell them?" she asks Haynuus quietly.

"Let them finish, I think." They could probably move fast enough when the real action starts. "It was only funny feeling, you know? This place is not natural, and it makes my tongue itch."

"Your tongue?" says Ameena. "I've never had an itchy tongue. But I know what you mean - I don't much like this place. I think we're underground. I don't normally mind being underground, but this place...well, something about it just feels...wrong."
She glances around. They're not achieving anything by standing around here, except to make themselves hungrier. And thirstier.
"I don't think we should stay here much longer..." she says, trailing off as she knows that not staying here will mean going out there. Wherever there is. What if there's worse than troll-creatures down that corridor? But what else can they do?

"They'll finish soon" Haynuus stated. It was essential that the spell casters familiarise themselves as much as possable with what runes or incantations were available. His limited experience of dungeon crawling consisted of nothing but darkness, plain flagstone floors and bricks. Any engravings found were exciting to those educated enough to know what they meant.

"You're right though. We should start moving now, but I'm a bit concerned that this door or one of the others will close behind us. When we pass under make sure you look up and know which direction to escape to. I bet you move fast." The half-orc smiled to himself.

Westian glances over his shoulder when he hears Ameena speak. "Agreed" he replies, "just give me a few more minutes...." With that he turns around and resumes examining the alcoves.