D&D 5E [IC] THE CURSE OF AMBERSTAR

[Ok, [MENTION=6776182]JustinCase[/MENTION] and [MENTION=24380]Neurotic[/MENTION], the answer to both your questions is yes: both eagle totem feature and darkvision can give more info, as long as you shift position a little - something easily accomplished now. I need Thulwar and Aanzu to give me a regular perception test each, though.]


EVERYONE

The room's taken by the sounds of the heavy exoskeleton moving towards the group. A little later, the machine stops, and Ajax jumps down, closely followed by Lyllie.

"How do your people look back on the crimes of your ancestors?" Harfik seems to collected his words carefully chosen.

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"Pragmatically." - Ajax answers bluntly. "We couldn't undo our own mistakes. So we fought the guilty. Some insisted in using people as lab rats..." - he leans before the small passage while he talks - "...while others took responsibility and decided to take care of the survivors. The undead, though... Nothing can be done about them, now. Nothing that I know of, at least..." - he seems to lament their situation for a second.

"Anyway, if you choose to go down through the small entrance..." - he points the passage as Thulwar steps towards it to study the area - "...I'm gonna have to use the exo to dig a larger hole, or we'll have to ditch it. Your call..."

Meanwhile, Aanzu stretches a bit to the east, trying to grasp what's beyond that path. His enhanced sight allows him a clear view of the corridor that stretches on. It goes for several feet. On the floor, the same sinuous lines that cover the present room have been drawn. They follow on, finding ways through a natural cave that has been reworked to accommodate such engravings. After two hundred feet or so, the corridor opens up into a room, flanked by two enormous statues resembling humanoids. Beyond them, a faint light struggles to light the room - and fails. Aanzu contemplates the area around, and sees a mostly unusual scene: the place holds several huts built amidst columns of stone. In between them, several creatures, strange and deformed, lean forward, squatting, immobile. Silence falls down on that side of the cavern, and nothing moves. Only water trickles all over the place, giving the chamber a glittering aspect.

Back at the opening in the wall, Thulwar employs his own reduced size to take his first steps into the small entrance. Water runs here as well, making the stone a bit slippery. The small corridor goes down, becoming more inclined shortly after entering. It seems it was conceived to allow a quick escape. Nonetheless, it has been carved here and there, allowing people to climb through it as well.

Carefully, Thulwar moves a bit inside, studying the way down. Beyond, he overhears voices in a compass, as if people gathered to chant. Some strange, green light comes from the other extreme of the hole, but that's far below. If he wants to see more, he has to climb down a bit further, but there's always the risk of slipping down...
[MENTION=24380]Neurotic[/MENTION] [MENTION=6776182]JustinCase[/MENTION] [MENTION=4936]Shayuri[/MENTION] [MENTION=6855102]Greenmtn[/MENTION]

[roll0]

EVERYONE

The path downwards is hard to decipher at first. Thulwar stretches as far as he can, attempting to obtain further information about what happens below. With a little more attention, he begins to discern the chant as a ceremonial hymn of sorts. Names of forgotten gods are uttered amidst familiar words - serpent gods, dead gods of the Abyss, gods of necromancy and rot. Their homage to the cthonian entities seem almost as a calling, probably a beacon to those who live just beyond the veil of reality, within the astral world... A faint, sweet smell of rotten things being burned climbs through the duct, reaching the gnome. So familiar, they are... Burnt offerings, taken from mushroom plantations and dead arachnids, a typical way to call out the lightness of souls back home, or to send them towards the encroaching darkness as they leave their mortal husks in death... Necromancers are known to use such substances to raise the dead on occasion, or to call out spirits from the depths.

On the other hand, the cave beyond seems almost like a lair. The creatures, standing still like statues under the light, produce the softest of sounds. Aanzu's able to discern the exchanges as a whispered speech. Here and there, words are quickly exchanged. The creatures aske each other about what has been going on in the cave the heroes now occupy! No doubt they caught wind of the conflict, considering all the noise. After short deliberation, one of them moves forward, attempting to keep a silent pace with remarkable skill! the mongrel moves on all-fours, like a crouching thief in the night, but Aanzu can follow his movement with his gaze. A second one follows, just as silent, and then a third one, keeping distance between each other, but whispering constantly. Their eyes are empty, inert and useless, but the large ears are enough to allow sound to reach them from a good distance. Soon enough they'll be within range, noticing the heroes!
[MENTION=24380]Neurotic[/MENTION] [MENTION=6776182]JustinCase[/MENTION] [MENTION=6855102]Greenmtn[/MENTION] [MENTION=4936]Shayuri[/MENTION]

Aanzu motions to the others in silence, then raises his sword in a defensive position. Whatever they are, they are approaching from this corridor! Whatever is down the other path will have to wait...

Tink comes right next to the great warrior, but his diminutive master comes forward in the shadow of the metal beast and raises his empty hands. "Hail and well met." in three languages, his own, undercommon and surface common.

He knows his size will make him look less threatening, but the background of the great scaled prince and even bigger metal monster don't really help the image. He hopes it will be conducive to peace talks rather than extra aggression.

EVERYONE

Both creatures sniff the air around them, squatting and moving forward slowly, cautiously. They stop dead on their tracks as the snirfveblin salutes them. They sniff the air once more, bending their strange, deformed heads to do so.

"They're on to us..." - the first one says to the second, whispering.

"Your fault, rookie" - the other one answers.

"I played quiet."

"You're talking. We never talk. No matter how low."


"No point in silence now."

"Let me do the talking, rookie."

The second one moves forward, closely followed by the first one. He clicks his tongue and clacks his teeth, as if warning the creatures in the adjacent room of the heroes' presence. As he approaches, the second creature rises to its feet, stepping a good 30' from Aanzu and Thulwar.

"I smell scales from under the sun, and feet from under the earth. Dust from below and sand from the winds! Strange combination, indeed!" - standing, the creature looks a lot like an orc, but the eyes are completely blue. The creature hunches, one arm a lot larger than the other, and it drools a bit as it speaks, given the asymmetric mouth filled with twisted fangs. Only the hips are covered by some rough kind of leather, and from it hangs an old shortsword, clearly made by human hands - the siege of Wellington decorates the hilt.

"I smell other things... I... *sniff* smell... An iron golem.... *sniff-sniff* .... An anointed man.... *sniff-sniff-sniff* ...Mmmm, cursed flesh! And..." - his face suddenly lights up - "...A Teraphim!" - a cruel smile crosses the creature's face, but it's filled with cunning. The hand slides towards the blade's hilt, more as precaution, clearly, as it doesn't seem too eager to fight.

"But no dead Amberilans here... What happened to the Bugmeals?" - he glances around without glancing, still smelling the air, liking his own twisted lips with a tentacle-like tongue. The rookie stands up, right behind the other, readier to run than to fight. His smaller completion suggests a goblinoid of sorts, as misshapen as his bigger companion. "Ooooh... You killed them didn't you? Oooh-ohh-hohoho-ooooh! I can hear it! Their voices in the dark are drums of war! What-o-what have you done, strangers from a strange world?" - he smiles, moving forward just a bit.

"Can you hear it, rookie?" - he turns to the goblinoid. the creature's voice, high-pitched and broken, comes out now. "Aye!" - it answers - "They call the dead souls back! The dead souls come for vengeance, soon, quite soon!"

"You stirred up their nest, now, strangers..." - the big one continues. "And to bring a Teraphim here... Ooooh, big-big mistake..." - he keeps smiling a blind smiles.

"And why oh why did you do it, Gargan asks?" - he points towards himself, his right hand still upon the hilt of the shortsword.
[MENTION=24380]Neurotic[/MENTION] [MENTION=58664]aa[/MENTION]nzu [MENTION=6855102]Greenmtn[/MENTION] [MENTION=4936]Shayuri[/MENTION]

Aanzu stares at the creatures as they move up to him, then start chatting. The dragonborn is unsure what to do, unsure whether the seemingly goblinoid beings are hostile or not.

"This one will ask you questions," he says loudly, as if to compensate for their apparent blindness and to hide his own confusion. "Are you friend or prey?"

This time the odd variation of the phrase 'friend or foe' is deliberate, meant to put the newcomers in their place -- which, to Aanzu, is plainly beneath his royal self.

"Be careful with that Wellington sword. They are known for being dull. It is easy to cut yourself with a dull blade." Harfik states. His own sword still in his hand but with the blade pointed down at the ground. Looking at the creature for clues as to how to deal with it.

EVERYONE

"Be careful with that Wellington sword. They are known for being dull. It is easy to cut yourself with a dull blade."

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Gargan smiles in response.


"Ooh-oh, this silly thing? It's not supposed to cut a thing! It's a gift... From a friend, nothing more! I use it... For the sweet memories..." - he smiles and lick his own lips as he goes.

Harfik studies the creature carefully. Not much seems to be known about it, except its general nature. A bunch of mongrels were left behind in the confusion that happened decades ago. They survived somehow, reproducing and taking a good deal of the tunnels for themselves. Their origins are clear in Harfik's mind, though, for they're another stain in the Teraphim's past: these ones were members of the many races lodged around Mount Amberilan - orcs, goblins, dwarves - once regular creatures, but lost to Teraphim experimentation. They're the failed mutations that were discarded in the Teraphim's incessant search for racial superiority...

"Are you friend or prey?"

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The creature laughs languidly.

"Right now I'm your best friend, sand dragon! Soon the dead will return. You shouldn't stay here. If you follow me, I'll lead you somewhere safe. But we cannot stay here. You killed their sentries. Their souls will return to the dead city, warn the others of how many are here, and they'll send the heavy troopers after you." - his gestures invite the heroes back to the room he just left. "You might be stronger than the dead... But their numbers alone can compensate that..." - he smiles a wicked smile, as if dreadful memories of battle pervaded his mind.
[MENTION=24380]Neurotic[/MENTION] [MENTION=4936]Shayuri[/MENTION] [MENTION=6855102]Greenmtn[/MENTION] [MENTION=6776182]JustinCase[/MENTION]