Urn Your Pay (Rae judging)

[serow]

Ter-raen holds the key up for all to see, not entirely too sure what to do withthis odd little thing. But he lets out a long breath, glad that they've accomplished something after all this time. Now we need to get urn... He thinks to himself. To the others, he says, "Key... open something."

 

[Trouvere]

"Leuks tae me it micht appen th' strangbox we war poundin' oan tae nae avail," Gildrim comments. "Lat's gae try it noo."

 

[Karm]

"Perhaps, within lies the urn that you seek. That would be a most welcome blessing. Let's not tarry, open the box!" Karm says this and Kuma looks up expectantly.

 

[serow]

"Perhaps, within lies the urn that you seek. That would be a most welcome blessing. Let's not tarry, open the box!" Karm says this and Kuma looks up expectantly.

Ter-raen's eyes brighten up at that cheerful thought and he holds the key even tighter, glad to a chance to finally find that urn and get out of this house of ill omen! Putting the key into his belt pouch, then giving it a quick pat, Ter-raen is ready to move.

 

[covaithe]

The key does indeed fit the strongbox, and with some effort, turns the ancient lock. Inside are a few papers rotted to illegibility, a pile of tarnished coins of gold and platinum, and a bright silver medallion, free of tarnish, on a sturdy chain.

ooc: 126 platinum, 335 gold. And an amulet.

 

[Trouvere]

"Oho! It's nae th' Urn, but Ah cannae say Ah'm disappynted," Gildrim says. "Did Ah mak clear, Karm, that onythin' we find in th' hoose, apairt fram th' Urn itsel', is oors for th' takin'? An' for whitiver reason, th' lest awners left ahint a heap ay thair vailuables. This swuird Ah've bin usin', an' Ter-raen's chairmin' yellae buits, tae name but twa. Three. Whitiver. An' if thaur's ane thing Ah ken aboot magic, it's that it seems tae keep weel in th' damp. Ah'd be takin' a close leuk at this shiny bauble - if Grendath wad see fit tae gie me th' knawledge!" Gildrim addresses this last remark to the air. "But ye can see magic, th' same as Erf, noo, can ye?"

OOC: come to think of it, Erf found some scrolls downstairs. I didn't pay any attention, because Gildrim can't use them.

 

[Karm]

"See magic? No, well at least not without proper preparation. I'd be happy to take a look at it, but I'm not very knowledgeable in these matters."

[sblock=ooc] I don't have detect magic memorized.
Spellcraft Check to help identify item. (1d20+5=12)
That probably won't help very much, unless I can aid another with that roll.
[/sblock]

 

[Trouvere]

"Ach, weel. Put it aroond yer neck, or wait till th' morra, it's up tae you," Gildrim answers. "If it cairies a useful magic, it'd be a shame nae tae get th' benefit noo."

 

[serow]

Ter-raen stares disappointedly at the assortment of riches in the chest. "No urn..." is all he manages to drag out of his mouth. With a soft sigh, he points to the corridor where they entered this room of great disappointment, and turns to the others. "Urn maybe in other room, we be close? Ready to check?"

 

[Trouvere]

"Aye." Gildrim stomps back to the spider room and has a brief look inside, wondering what the beast has been eating to grow so large. Then he heads to the next door in the hallway.

OOC: the door in G7.