Smaller Details pt 1
... some time back, a set of Kulthian-era ruins was discovered west of AlexandriA. A group of adventyrers were dispatched to explore it.
You are not thoose adventurers. /They/ have gone missing. Your job is to figure out what happened ot them. When adventurers go missing, well, throw more adventurers at it. That's why you're riding west, or walking, to get there.
Fun, right?
Lucy spends half her time riding a brave little pony (who may or may not be named Bill), but also spends a great deal of the trip walking. She claims to be breaking in a new pair of boots, and they do indeed look new. Certainly the Gnome has a spring in her stride. "I wonder what could have happened to them," she muses for what must be the tenth time.
Baz da Ork lopes along side of the horses. Not quite able to fit on one himself. His armored form and leather bindings creaking as he moves. For once he isn't singing a marching song, keeping his breath for the purpose of making one leg move infront of the other. His right hand holds onto his usually stored bow as he keeps his black eyes moving left and right looking out for possible problems. "Wot?" He pants. "The fools we're look'n for? Probably got 'et. It tends ta happen. Get'n 'et. We'll pick up dere gear, clean off the remains and finish the job, ya?"
Indeed, you're not too much longer in finding the encampment from the city. A small and mousey looking man is waiting for you.
"You're from the guild, yeah? Like the last group? Well... good luck, huh?" He points towards the west, where a rather large and slanted hatch is set into what appears to be a mound.
"IT's right through that door. Mer and my team," he's hardly alone, "of civilians will be waiting right here."
Baz da Ork peers at the hole then snorts and looks over at Lucy. "Oy, here den." He motions towards and sticks out a long gnarled index finger. "You want it dere on yer shield arm, ya?" He asks, then a moment later clarifies. "Got not time for torches, don't like fire to much under ground. I'll put der light onto something of yours ya don't need to clutter a hand wit, ya? Den you can see, right?"
Lucy stares at Baz uncomprehendingly for a moment, then understanding dawns on her. "Oh, thanks but no - I brought my own!" She produces a glowing gem which floats up to circle around her head. "Baz da Ork, meet Edgar. Edgar, Baz." The gem floats silently. But...is it your imagination or did it just pulse slightly in acknowledgement?
The big Ork blinks a few times. "Edgar huh?" He sniffs and the snorts and nods his head once then waves a hand at small mousey man. "Dey down here eh? Right." Without further ado he lumbers over towards the ladder and starts on his way down. Information? Clarification? Too many sylables for Baz! Soon his armored form vanishes down the ladder into the mound.
Lucy scurries after, readying her short spear. "We'll find the rest of your party, don't you worry," she assures the man. Then after she's gone her voice floats back out, "Well - or their remains!"
The mousy looking man just stares at Baz and Lucy and then shrugs his shoulders. He, and the other members of his team, just get out of the way.
The hatch is easy enough to open, it's already been cleared, and a set of stairs leads the way down. There's a rope line for guidance and support to grab onto as teh stairs appear to be a bit treacherous and potentially crumbly.
One destroyed set of stairs later, Baz looks around the chamber, he holds his bow against the odd quiver at his side and mutters a few words under his breath. The bow vanishes into the container and he then unlimbers his huge curved sword from his back. Then takes a few moments to sniff the air for any scents as he peers around to get his barings.
GAME: Baz da Ork rolls perception: (6)+3: 9
Lucy leans back almost imperceptibly as the curved sword emerges into view. She smoothly transforms the motion inti one of turning and panning her gaze (and light) around the area.
GAME: Lucy rolls perception: (4)+12: 16
Immediately at the bottom of the stairs you see the signs of battle, faint tohugh they are. This antechamber has a few more recent schorch marks on its plain grey floor and even greyer walls.
Both Lucy and Baz see that the signs of battle continue down the tunnel ahead. This whole area is mostly featureless beyond the grey, incredibly perfect angles and walls that do not show a hint of age or cracks in the stone.
There is no natural light ahead. This is no problem, mostly.
"Clench yer britches dere, looks like a fight." Baz says as he turns and starts down the tunnel, holding his blade in his right hand as his left hangs at his side. The side to side motion of his shoulders as he moves making his armor and leather creak.
Lucy begins to creep her way down the passageway, then straightens up and quickens her pace when Baz almost immediately passes her by. "Right!" she agrees. "I think there was arcane magic involved as well." She points at a few of the scorched spots.
Down the tunnel you go. You enter into a ciruclar room, then, with a single metal oelisk at its center, obscuring the opposite side. It is about three feet thick and reaches the ceiling at abough eight feet.
"Blagh." Baz snorts. "Moah mages, meh." He shakes his head. "Kill'em first, dere soft and don't wear armor." He peers at the walls as they pass along. "Dis place is pretty clean for being a hole in the ground, right? No rocks or holes or anything. All smooth and stuff."
There are other exits, of course. One to the west of you, a rather large metal door with a single handle, and one to the east that is an open passage.
It looks like there MAY have been a door there at one point.
There are blood stains on the floor here. Older.
"Dey probably went dat way, but dere is a door here." Baz says, drawn towards the door and what might be hidden behind it. The obelisk however does not seem to attract his attention.
Lucy nods in agreement of the Oruch's evaluation. "Neither of us are what you might call trained investigators, really," she narrates. Aloud. For some reason. "But between our widely diverse backgrounds and skill sets we may just come up with something!"
"Whut?" Baz stares at Lucy, he rubs his chin with his free hand and then motions towards the metal door. "I wanna open the metal door. We can go find de deaders later ya? They probably not do'in much but rot'n. Or passing along some monster's poop chute, right?"
Tirr is well late to the party, shes following behind the others late and all.... She blinks as she looks up at the Obelisk, then glances to the others curiously "Hallo!" she greets, her voice prim, propper, having that 'english like accent' and all of someone who's spent far too much time in a library...
Tirr glances from person to person curiously and glances around then she ummms "We can allways go check and see if any of them allive so they're not eaten and end up being recycled through someones... 'poop chute'. Yus?" She asks curiously....
GAME: Besra rolls perception: (13)+6: 19
GAME: Tirrynelth rolls perception: (19)+6: 25
GAME: Baz da Ork rolls perception: (6)+3: 9
The gray-cloaked mercenary hasn't been one for words thusfar. Following quietly behind the rest of the party, she has done little but keep her eyes open. It's not the most opportune weapon for quarters like these, but she has kept her long gun primed and at the ready. She doesn't look to be built for a close quarters battle, at least judging by the way she tries to stay out of sight. That one eye of hers probably doesn't help there. Hopefully, she's a better shot.
The door, at least, does not appear to be trapped at a careful search. It is even unlocked!
"Door." Baz says simply and opens the door wide. Peering inside with his squinty black eyes as he replies to Tirrynelth. "Ya, right, worry about them later, I want to see whats in the door! Maybe dere is a new axe! Or an old axe, 'cause dis place is old. Hah!"
The mercenary advances on the doorway, finally breaking her silence. Her voice is quiet but matter-of-fact, and she seems to be spare with words. "Our quarry went this way, agreed?" Her origin becomes a little more obvious, to those traveled enough to know accents. Hers is thick: Tsuran, the wandering minstrels (some would say worse) of The Vast. She kneels. "Six, I think, but not as one. Three one way. Three another. They sought to cover ground faster. A fatal mistake?" She doesn't seem to have much hope for a live rescue.
Tirr peers over at the Orc and sighs... "OK we can come back to the door, the stuff behind it isn't going anywhere, lets see if we can save the folks.. Besides, whos to say they didnt pick up an axe and take it with them for defense against monsters?" She asks curiously of the big Orc.... She then glances around again and sighs... "Sooooo......"
Besra rises and steps back, again readying her rifle with practiced ease. "I don't know enough to know the safer path, but I agree that the mission takes priority over the spoils."
"But da door?" Baz says, makes a squinty face then trudges after the other two. "Fine, but I want to 'ave a look through dat door 'afore we leave. If deres an axe I'm tak'n it. Right? Right." He eventually makes his way up towards the front, because he's big, armored and Baz.
MOVING ON.
The terrible Adventurer's Choice (which door do I choose) has been vanquished temporarily! You make your wayu down the hall. It is here you encounter your first sign of additional trouble! About forty feet down this long hallway, you find the broken remnants of... something. Looks like some kind of automaton. A fresh alchemical oil of some kind has formed a pool under it. Definitely a shattered construct of some kind. There's more blood too, indicating it did some damage, or at least someone is still blereding.
GAME: Besra rolls perception: (1)+6: 7 (EPIC FAIL)
"The artifice monstrosity seems to be completely inactive," Besra states with certainty, dooming the party to a nasty surprise.
"Oy, dis broken metal ting has blood on it. I can smells it." The big Ork takes in a few deep breathes then peers down the hall. "Get your britches squared, we get'n close I tink. Lets see if our job is dead or alive. Den we go back to me door and open it, right?"
Tirr follows along behind everyone and then reaches into her pocket, and pulls a small stone out... She holds it above her shoulder and the thing begins floating there and giving off a torchlight level of white light... "See if this help ssome?" she offers cheerfully, then blinks at the construct... Blood oil... Umm yah nothing wrong here!!!
"Right, move forward." Baz says, stepping past the scene and continuing his march along the tunnel. His large curved blade balanced on his armored shoulder as he trundles along into the gloom.
And so forward you go.
You reach what appears to be an intersection, but at least which way to go is easy enough to tell this time, the trail of blood is continuing to the left turn instead of the right.
Down that way, yuou find another circular chamber, this one lined with odd crystals at regular intervals along the wall, from floor to ceiling. Each one is precisely, impossibly perfectly identical to the others. The degree of craftsmanship and time it would have taken with today's technology is impossible to fathom.
At the rooms center is acylinder, held aloft by only magic. Within it is a great volume of some kind of green liquid that swirls and swirls within its container.
Besra doesn't state the obvious here. She also doesn't state the non-obvious. For once, she's not an expert in artifice. "Why advance deeper, if they had wounded? Why not stop and triage? A pursuit? We're missing much."
"Wot." Baz says as he draws up short and peers, this room's oddness even penetrates his skull as he looks from crystal to crystal then up to the green liquid in the cylinder. "Dis is odd. Were da bodies at? The blood lead in here right? No blood, no gristle, no gear lay'n around." He glances at Besra and nods slowly. "Right, why keep moving when bleed'n."
Tirr tilts her head "Probably being chased I think..." She responds and rubs at the back of her neck..."Soooo.... maybe they got teleported sommeres?" She asks curiously, the tall Sith now starting to wander around the outskirts of the room...
"Too many unknowns." Besra approaches the cylinder, weapon at the ready. "What is this madness? Something ancient? Or a fool dabbling in a damned art?"
The blood does seem to have stopped here.
Therre's no further sign of it and certainly no bodies. Not even any automatons for the moment.
Besra cocks her weapon, taking aim at the cylinder with her one good eye. "This abomination is the focal point of this insanity. I can think of no other explanation . . . "
Tirr stares ahead and ums,, she takes this point to cover her self with mage-armor, just in case... The goofy Sith now casting a quick spell as she continues to wander the outskirts of the room while studying everything from different angles.
"Right, let me get back a bit den." Baz says, as he edges back from the collection of crystals and the giant liquid filled one as Besra takes aim. HIs big form moving up the ahallway so as not to get caught in the splatter, or the richochet.
GAME: Tirrynelth casts Mage Armor. Caster Level: 3 DC: 15
The cylinder is defintiely levitating in the air with a great amount of liquid inside, sloshing violent in a swirl.
There's nothing else here.
In fact, it appears to be a bit of a dead end!
The crystals begin to ripple, scintillating patterns across them.
Besra waits patiently, slowly backing up into a more defensive position as she lets the others do their thing. She's decisive, not impatient. Once Baz is physically at the ready and Tirr has completed her defensive cantrips, she pulls back the charging handle of her long gun, settles into a stable position as she takes a slow breath, and fires at the cylinder's periphery. She's aiming for its side, hoping to shatter it without doing too much damage to its internals. She's more curious about what's inside, for the moment, and she's perhaps not eager to set off any calamitous artifice chain reactions.
GAME: Besra rolls ranged+1: (3)+7+1: 11
GAME: Besra rolls 1d12: (11): 11
The bullets slams into the cylinder and, wouldn't you know, it cracks and begins to leak!
Tirr stares a moment "Yah that probably wasn't a great idea.... Id be willing to bet that liquid could be some kinda solvent of sorts?" She says and blinks again studying it closely. She then digs through her pocket, and tugs a copper coin out of it before she flicks it at where the liquid is spilling at...
Granit gives the spilling liquid a wide birth, looking for other clues to be found.
"Bad idea?" Besra whispers silently to herself, already beginning to reload as she questions her course of action. "Why store such a substance? A weapon? A fuel?"
Lucy peers at the liquid. "I wonder if there's something in there," she opines. "Suspended in that fluid. I suppose we'll soon find out!" she finishes brightly, already edging forward for a better look.
"I'm curious myself," Besra says, seemingly in reply to Lucy. She withdraws another round from her bandolier, sliding it into an internal magazine port before again charging the weapon. "Stand clear," she warns. And then, another shot rings out, perhaps too loud for comfort in such an enclosed space.
The coin hits the pool of green liquid.
It begins to corrode. Seems like it's pretty acidic!
GAME: Besra rolls ranged+1+1: (1)+7+1+1: 10 (EPIC FAIL)
GAME: Besra rolls ranged+1+1: (11)+7+1+1: 20
GAME: Besra rolls 1d12+1: (11)+1: 12
Besra's first shot doesn't fire at all, the artifice weapon jamming. The perils of firearms and all.. Not pressed by the urgency of combat, she calmly clears the weapon and fires again.
Lucy peers at the acid as it dissolves the coin. Suddenly she's edging back away again. "Scratch that - nothing could be inside of that. But why would they leave something like that there? Maybe it was part if some kind if trap?" She looks at Besra with what might be respect. If it was a trap she just foiled it nicely.
Granit keeps looking around the rest of the room. He glances over, raising an eyebrow. "The vessel seems less likely to explode now, at least."
More liquid oozes out of it like nobody's business...
... of course, now that it's all on the ground, it begins to swirl and pick itself up, assembling into a humanoid form.
Granit turns more fully, leaning on his poleaxe. He leans forward slightly, murmuring, "Fascinating."
"Whatever it is, the trails of our quarry stopped there, with no further trace. Teleported? Dissolved? I don't know, but I thought it best to force the outcome on our terms, rather than wander waiting for the same fate." Besra holds her weapon at the ready, keeping her distance. "You! Being of acid!" she barks, with all of the delicateness one might expect from a grizzled mercenary. "What happened to the guilded adventurers who came this way?"
Tirr blinks "Yaah so we really really really don't want to get into that crap.... He probably triggered a trap and was disolved maybe?" she suggests and sighs... "We really should see about helping those we can get to to help them.... She adds....
Tirr stares at the body forming out of the liquid and ummms... "Oookay, thats a first for me folks..." She suggests and tilts her head curiously as she watches the goings on, ready to jump into a fight should she need to....
Naturally, like a humanoid shaped goo monster, it begins to lurch towards Besra. Becasue why not? It's been shot at by her.
GAME: NeverSleepsPool advances the initiative order. Round One - Init 22.
It is now Granit's turn! Lucy is next!
GAME: Granit used a Bladeguard.
Granit starts circling around behind it, taking a moment to anoint the head of his weapon with a greasy oil.
GAME: Lucy rolls weapon3: (16)+12: 28 (THREAT)
GAME: Lucy rolls weapon3: (1)+12: 13 (EPIC FAIL)
GAME: Lucy rolls 1d4+12: (4)+12: 16
GAME: Tirrynelth casts Magic Missile. Caster Level: 3 DC: 15
GAME: Tirrynelth rolls 2d4+2: (2)+2: 4
Lucy steps smoothly in between the lunging monster and Besra. "Uh-uh-uh," she sways her spear back and forth like she's wagging a finger, while the other draws her rapier and immediately shoves the blade through the creature's outstretched appendage. "Don't talk? That's fine, we can just kill."
Tirr blinks and backs away some before raising her hand. A pair of bolts leap out of the outstretched hand, zipping toward the slime-thingie and striking.. Not that she sees much damage having been done..... "Well that coulda gone better." She mutters
"Oh," Besra mutters ruefully under her breath. She drops into a defensive stance, peeling away without turning her back, checking if the creature is still following her.
GAME: NeverSleepsPool rolls 1d20+11: (13)+11: 24
GAME: Lucy rolls weapon3: (13)+12: 25
GAME: NeverSleepsPool rolls 1d6: (2): 2
GAME: Lucy rolls weapon3: (9)+12: 21
GAME: Lucy rolls 1d4+12: (2)+12: 14
Acid-Man, if that is indeed his REAL NAME, reaches out and grabs at Lucy. He makes contact, or is just about to actually, when Lucy's blade flicks his hand away, leaving some of its acid on it. The blade is smoking now.
It should've read the no-smoking sign.
GAME: Granit rolls 1d20+11: (1)+11: 12 (EPIC FAIL)
GAME: Lucy rolls weapon6: (7)+10: 17
GAME: Lucy rolls 1d4+7: (3)+7: 10
GAME: Tirrynelth casts Magic Missile. Caster Level: 3 DC: 15
GAME: Tirrynelth rolls 2d4+2: (7)+2: 9
GAME: NeverSleepsPool rolls 1d20+10: (9)+10: 19
GAME: NeverSleepsPool rolls 1d20+11: (11)+11: 22
GAME: Lucy rolls weapon6: (17)+10: 27
GAME: Lucy rolls 1d4+7: (2)+7: 9
Another spell, another pair of magic missiles leap from the Sith'Makar's hand and strike true, this time though she actually seems to do something!! Tirr tilts her head again and blinks... "Well that works well.. Guys, I need ya'll to get back a ways so I can try something else, it's acid, I might be able to hit it with a fire spell, but I only have one I think I can use and I don't wanna hit anyone els!"
GAME: NeverSleepsPool rolls 1d6: (5): 5
Lucy raises her rapier to run the creature through again. It's then that she notices the smoke streaming from the blade. She looks briefly dismayed before tossing it to one side and shifting the spear to her right hand. She uses this to stab the monster instead, doing her best to jerk the weapon free before it can be eaten through.
Two swings, one at Lucy and another at Granit. The one against Lucy almost connects but is again deflected at the last moment by her efforts.
It's looking kinda... holey, now, with great gaps opening in its blobby, flabby and humanoid body. It makes no sounds but amorphous burbling.
GAME: Granit rolls 1d20+11: (8)+11: 19
GAME: Granit rolls 2d4+5+6+1d6: (6)+5+6+(4): 21
Besra's first shot seems to be an accurate one, or at least as accurate as one can be against a creature with no weak spots. Blowing a single large chunk out of the center of its chest, she backs off, engaging in the laborious process of reloading her weapon.
GAME: Lucy rolls weapon4: (9)+10: 19
Granit tries, tries again, swinging his polearm through the ooze, leaving behind a frozen-edged wound in it.
GAME: Lucy rolls 1d3+7: (2)+7: 9
GAME: NeverSleepsPool rolls 1d6: (5): 5
Lucy draws her spear back to stab!...only its no longer a 'spear' and now just a 'stick'. And the end is burned off evenly, so. kt even a 'pointy stick' at that. Grimacing, Lucy discards yet another trusty friend. Now she draws her dagger, jabbing it into the monster's side and then twitching as it begins to sizzle and corrode. "Ooh I wish you could understand me," she grates at the monster. "I could tell you just what I'm going to do with this if you burn the blade off..."
GAME: NeverSleepsPool rolls 1d20+3: (8)+3: 11
GAME: Tirrynelth casts Burning Hands. Caster Level: 3 DC: 15
GAME: Tirrynelth rolls 3d4: (5): 5
And now, Tirr sidesteps some more, head darting this way and that for when she might possibly be able to get off some kind of shot, before Tirr raises her hands and unleashes a blast of flame, blinking as it catches fire... "Well it's burning now!
GAME: NeverSleepsPool rolls 1d20+11: (3)+11: 14
GAME: NeverSleepsPool rolls 1d20+11: (5)+11: 16
Now moving towads Tirry with one big step, it slams at her not once, but twice. Apparently, it did not like being set on fire. There are sparks as each fists connects with the magical shield protecting the Sith magic user.
GAME: Granit rolls 1d20+11: (7)+11: 18
GAME: Granit rolls 2d4+11+1d6: (3)+11+(1): 15
GAME: Besra rolls ranged+1+1-4: (9)+7+1+1+-4: 14
GAME: Lucy rolls weapon4: (19)+10: 29 (THREAT)
GAME: Lucy rolls weapon4: (5)+10: 15
GAME: Lucy rolls 1d3+7: (2)+7: 9
GAME: Lucy rolls reflex+3: (18)+7+3: 28
GAME: Granit rolls ref: (15)+8: 23
GAME: NeverSleepsPool rolls 2d6: (9): 9
Lucy stabs the monster again with her dagger, wincing at how close she has to get to the flailing, corrosive limbs to make contact. She's backpedalling as soon as she can, although it's too late for her poor dagger and so she must bid farewell to yet another weapon that has served her well.
GAME: Tirrynelth rolls ref: (8)+3: 11
Besra's normally steady hands wave as she struggles to get a clean shot between the combatants adjacent to the ooze. Eventually surrendering to her skill and fate, a billow of artifice-driven mana erupts from the barrel as she finally pulls the trigger. It's not her best shot today, but the final hit splatters the creature left arm and shoulder, sending ooze into the crowd of her comrades.
It spins from the momentum of the final round, its legs and body deforming below it as it collapses into a pool of slowly-widening sludge.
The crystals stop pulsing with light and there's the sound of something... powering... down. A slow whirring-clicking-humming that becomes audible before grinding toa halt.
The room plunges into darkness but for one ioun torch held by Lucy.