Kulan: Knightfall's Heroes of Carnell Game [IC]

[Neurotic]

"Just me? JUST me?!" Maur bangs the mark on his shield (anvil and the hammer) with the gauntletet fist.
"I am champion of Moradin, cleric of the Dwarf-father, warrior purifier of the foul cults. Soul forger is with me. I am never alone." He looked a bit more carefully at the group. "Do you need healing? Are you wounded?"

 

[Knightfall]

In a spark of insight, Quinn says, "Champion Deep Delver, I am Quinn Inagui of lands to the south.", The one addressing Maur Deeepdelver is slightly shorter then average for a human; straight, black hair armed with a longbow on his back, a longsword at his side a weighted net near at hand and a spiked chain in his hand, the end having dropped to the stone floor. He is armored in a breast plate.

His skin is well marked with the scars of what is probably more then a hundred battles.

"Tell me master Dwarf, this rook was in part responsible for the death of the Lord of the land, Lady Pendour's husband. The rooks chained his desecrated body to the top of the flag pole and said rook was executed for his part in thes actions. Do you object?"

"The deed is done. My objecting it or not will not bring the beast to life. But why should I? If half of what I hear is correct, it more than deserved it."
The dwarf relaxes more
"I don't object, no, the creature reaped what it sow. Where are we at?"

"We're about to head down those stairs try to find an access point to lair of the cultists," the ogre replies in perfect Common. He seems unconcerned by the arrival of someone new to the group. "I hope Lady Pendour told you what you're in for with us. For all we know there could be dozens of cultists and even more rook. An entire aviary of them for what we've learned."

Gareth steps forward to greet the dwarf. "I am Sir Gareth Porthglaze. Lady Pendour did say she would try to find more help for us, but she told me it would be hard. You must have been passing through Carnell and seen one of the notices up at the inn or outside the smithy."

"It would have been nice if she'd told us," the canine-like female muses with a sigh.

"She didn't want to give you all false hope that a large force would come to help fight the cultists," Gareth replies. "It's a call out for more adventurers and mercenaries not trained soldiers from Belporte or Helt." Gareth speaks to Maur. "We're glad to have your help but young Brutus is right," he motions to the ogre, which looks like it might have some humanoid blood. "This fight is going to be tough." Gareth introduces an wiry, old human, Timmins Walmsley, as his longtime friend and fighting partner.

A young woman introduces herself simply as Merideth and another young human as her cousin Wieland. Another human who looks too young to wield the weapons he carries calls himself Quinten. He's dressed more like a sailor than an adventurer.

"I am Aureus. I come from the north and have found true friends here. I hope I can count you as one once we get to know each other at another time. For now, I will fight alongside you." If the monstrous female is a gnoll, she is the most well-spoken gnoll Maur has even met.

The ogrekin simply nods at Maur.

Despite his suspicions, Caerth sees no signs of insincerity from the dwarf, and he lowers his spear. He returns the gaze of Quinn, not completely trusting the newcomer but willing to give the benefit of doubt.

”Just you?” the half-orc grumbles, the sound more dangerous than intended.

"Just me? JUST me?!" Maur bangs the mark on his shield (anvil and the hammer) with the gauntletet fist.
" I am champion of Moradin, cleric of the Dwarf-father, warrior purifier of the foul cults. Soul forger is with me. I am never alone." He looked a bit more carefully at the group. "Do you need healing? Are you wounded?"

"I don't think so. Phar's fireball spell wiped out most of the rooks piled up outside," Gareth replies while motioning to the elf. "We'll need your magic once we find more dangerous foes."

"We should keep moving," Aureus notes.

The rogue takes the lead down the stairs down into the lowest level of the tower. She double checks the trapdoor that leads down into the caverns that Aureus, Careth, Lorien, Phar, and Quinn previously explored. She doesn't find any traps on the door or on the stairs that lead down and the door to the cavern swings awkwardly on its hinges, half-open. Beyond the door is the stone bridge that leads across the chasm where they fought the giant centipede. Aureus moves forward and quietly checks the sides of the bridge and looks into the chasm. She looks back and motions for the group to move forward. Once across the room, you find your way past the old crypt where they fought the zombies with the bloodstone gems in their eyes.

Aureus motions for the group to stop as you approach the Y-intersection where the cavern branches. To you right is where Hornauer and his brood were first encountered. To the right remains a mystery, as it was never explored beyond the first few feet. What was in the first room on the right?

"There was another corridor down there," Aureus muses as she points to the left. "If I'm remembering correctly."

OOC: Knowledge (dungeoneering) check to remember what was in that first room, as well as the corridor beyond the opening to the room.

 

[Neurotic]

Maur peers into the chasm trying to gauge the depth.

"Weird that no guards are stationed here. This is as good choke point as one could hope for. Chokepoints should be guarded or there is no purpose to them."

 

[JustinCase]

"Caerth, Heart-of-Oak," the large half-orc introduces himself to Maur with both name and druidic title, still wary.

He shrugs in response to the dwarf's remarks as they pass the chasm. The druid suspects that these cultists are not very tactical, instead relying on stealth and numbers.

Somehow the dwarf reminds him of a villager that, so long ago, made his life impossible when Caerth attempted to make contact after living in the woods with his mentor for years. Despite not looking anything like the sturdy short dwarf walking just ahead, the young man had a similar air of confidence, arrogance maybe, and he was the worst bully of the lot.

Realizing that, the half-orc grins a little. How much things have changed! Of course, he still feels ill at home amongst villagers and people in general, but he has come to be accepted by his companions and at least tolerated by the townsfolk. And despite his own caution towards the dwarf, Maur has not said or done anything even remotely unkind to him.

His grin turns into a frown as with these ponderings also comes the realization that his mentor Aeron is not who he thought for so long. And that betrayal, combined with that from the Sirs Balorix and Ghal, and the uneasy trust from the wererat Hornauer, has turned his world upside down once more, and now the muscular half-orc druid is unsure who to trust still.

His companions. Yes, he trusts the companions who have been by his side for so long now. But nobody else.

He glances over at Maur and without thinking, his free hand brushes past the dagger at his belt, before abruptly jerking his hand away. Taking his bow from his back and readying an arrow, Caerth moves forward as he searches his memory for what lies ahead.

OOC: Caerth has some trust issues... as you may have guessed by now. knowledge (dungeoneering): 1D20+1 = [13]+1 = 14

 

[JustinCase]

Caerth remembers the rooms on the left, ahead.

"The torture room," he reminds the others, "Up ahead. And the undead guardian beyond, must still be there."

The half-orc lets the comment sink in for a moment before adding, "Together we can end its unnatural existence."

OOC: When prodded, Caerth shares what he knows, which is this: Spoiler In Caerth's mind, it feels like forever ago that he first came out to Gurnard's Head even though it's been only been a week or so since that first foray. Regardless, he quite clearly remembers the room that lies ahead on the left. It seemed uneventful at first, a cave carved from the stone by humanoid hands. There were rotting pallets, iron rings driven into the walls, and old rusted manacles attached to lengths of chains scattered across the room's floor. And there was a wooden door on the southern wall of the room. It had been stuck but was no trouble for Quinn to get open. What was beyond that door however was another matter. The second room had been a shrine consecrated to evil. There was a gaunt figure of death covered in chains. The being had smelled of death but it did not immediately attack. It had seemed to be bound to the room and could not leave it. Fearful of facing the monster after barely fighting off the centipede, the door was closed and pallets piled in front of it. The creature would be dealt with later, it was decided. The corridor that extends beyond the entryway to the two connected rooms continues on for some way. Caerth remembers a set of stairs cut through the rock that lead down to another level. The stairs had been flanked by black monoliths worked with inlaid glyphs and evil holy symbols. And there had been a strange scrawled symbol on the floor written in blood. That had been as far down the corridor as the group had gone but it continues on into what had looked like to be an oval-shaped room. It was at this point that the group went to explore the western corridor and first encountered Hornauer and his brood. Caerth remembers there was another branch off that corridor but the group never explored it. View attachment 122118 I'll share this map with the others once Caerth reminds them of what there had been down the eastern corridor.

 

[Scotley]

The Elf remains aloof during the introduction and bravado. He observes much but says little considering the newcomer carefully before finally speaking. "Minvelepharadan Tamlyranth" he announces in a cultured musical voice. "But you may call me 'Phar'." The Elf is tall and thin in a way that sets him apart from typical Silver Elves. His skin is pale gray and his eyes are violet and filled with deep sadness. His slender form gray form is topped with pale golden hair has been likened to an aspen tree on a fall afternoon when the leaves are soon to fall. His long hair is brushed out straight and held in place with a simple silver band. He wears a chain shirt of impossibly fine delicate work in mithral over silver-gray padding of a smooth cloth. Over this is a black vest with stylized stags under a night sky. The stars are in the pattern of the midsummer sky over lost Amylinyon. His gear is all of the archaic style of Amylinyon no longer seen. He carries the traditional elven weapons--longsword and longbow. His trousers are also silver gray and faced with buffed leather. He wears low soft boots and a travelers pack. While most of his gear is in pale silver, light wood or buff colors his cloak is a vivid purple that matches his eyes. A buckler of dark wood is held in his left hand. It too is faced with a stylized stag with elaborate horns swept back over the length of the body. "I practice the traditional arts of my people," he says simply by way of explaining his role.

 

[Knightfall]

"Caerth, Heart-of-Oak," the large half-orc introduces himself to Maur with both name and druidic title, still wary.

He shrugs in response to the dwarf's remarks as they pass the chasm. The druid suspects that these cultists are not very tactical, instead relying on stealth and numbers.

Somehow the dwarf reminds him of a villager that, so long ago, made his life impossible when Caerth attempted to make contact after living in the woods with his mentor for years. Despite not looking anything like the sturdy short dwarf walking just ahead, the young man had a similar air of confidence, arrogance maybe, and he was the worst bully of the lot.

Realizing that, the half-orc grins a little. How much things have changed! Of course, he still feels ill at home amongst villagers and people in general, but he has come to be accepted by his companions and at least tolerated by the townsfolk. And despite his own caution towards the dwarf, Maur has not said or done anything even remotely unkind to him.

His grin turns into a frown as with these ponderings also comes the realization that his mentor Aeron is not who he thought for so long. And that betrayal, combined with that from the Sirs Balorix and Ghal, and the uneasy trust from the wererat Hornauer, has turned his world upside down once more, and now the muscular half-orc druid is unsure who to trust still.

His companions. Yes, he trusts the companions who have been by his side for so long now. But nobody else.

He glances over at Maur and without thinking, his free hand brushes past the dagger at his belt, before abruptly jerking his hand away. Taking his bow from his back and readying an arrow, Caerth moves forward as he searches his memory for what lies ahead.

OOC: Caerth has some trust issues... as you may have guessed by now. knowledge (dungeoneering): 1D20+1 = [13]+1 = 14

The Elf remains aloof during the introduction and bravado. He observes much but says little considering the newcomer carefully before finally speaking. "Minvelepharadan Tamlyranth" he announces in a cultured musical voice. "But you may call me 'Phar'." The Elf is tall and thin in a way that sets him apart from typical Silver Elves. His skin is pale gray and his eyes are violet and filled with deep sadness. His slender form gray form is topped with pale golden hair has been likened to an aspen tree on a fall afternoon when the leaves are soon to fall. His long hair is brushed out straight and held in place with a simple silver band. He wears a chain shirt of impossibly fine delicate work in mithral over silver-gray padding of a smooth cloth. Over this is a black vest with stylized stags under a night sky. The stars are in the pattern of the midsummer sky over lost Amylinyon. His gear is all of the archaic style of Amylinyon no longer seen. He carries the traditional elven weapons--longsword and longbow. His trousers are also silver gray and faced with buffed leather. He wears low soft boots and a travelers pack. While most of his gear is in pale silver, light wood or buff colors his cloak is a vivid purple that matches his eyes. A buckler of dark wood is held in his left hand. It too is faced with a stylized stag with elaborate horns swept back over the length of the body. "I practice the traditional arts of my people," he says simply by way of explaining his role.

"And he's good at it too," Aureus muses with a wink. "I should know, he and I have traveled together for some time before we came to Carnell. That seems so long ago, now." The hutaakan rogue twitches her tail. "He helped me get a sense of this world after my people were brought here from Maran during that time of Transformation." She pauses. "But I can tell you more about me and my people at some other time."

Maur peers into the chasm trying to gauge the depth.

"Weird that no guards are stationed here. This is as good choke point as one could hope for. Chokepoints should be guarded or there is no purpose to them."

Aureus motions to the underside of the bridge. "The first time we came through here, there was a giant centipede guarding the bridge -- hiding under it before it attacked. It was very large and very dangerous. It wasn't a natural vermin either. The cultists must have bred it to be a guardian. It breathed acid like a black dragon and nearly killed Lorien -- our friend." The rogue pauses once again. "I hope he's doing better," she adds.

"That... doesn't sound like something we want to come across," Gareth chuffs.

"Yes, let's hope there was only that one," Aureus agrees.

The younger adventurers grip their hilts just a bit tighter. All have drawn their weapons and stand at ready to fight. Timmins nods to Gareth and they too ready their weapons for anything might come out of the darkness beyond the lit torch that Quinten carries at the back of the group.

Caerth remembers the rooms on the left, ahead.

"The torture room," he reminds the others, "Up ahead. And the undead guardian beyond, must still be there."

The half-orc lets the comment sink in for a moment before adding, "Together we can end its unnatural existence."

"Undead guardian," Brutus's eyes go wide. "I'd rather face a giant centipede."

"Hmm, I remember it," Aureus says with a nod. "It was covered in rattling chains. Let's hope it is only an undead thing." She looks at Maur. "Do you think you can turn it?"

Moving forward cautiously to the outer room carved out of the rock, you find that most of what was in the room before is now gone. Someone or something has cleared it out. The old pallets that Careth and Quinn had piled in front of the door are gone. The door is shut closed and a banded locking mechanism has been added to the door.

"It looks like these cultists have been busy," Timmins says quietly. "But why would they trap it inside?"

Caerth can hear chains rattling on the other side of the door, or is it a trick of the imagination? Then a noise does ring in the half-orcs ears. But it comes not from the barred room but from somewhere else in the caverns. The sound echoes in the eerie stillness. Like the sound of something hard scraping against stone.

"Did you hear that?" Aureus says, her ears perking up.

OOC: Roll Listen checks and Spot checks

 

[Neurotic]

Maur looked down into the chasm and under the bridges sides. His darkvision pierces the gloom to almost 100 feet in depth as he looks for traces of other vermin or the bottom of the charm.

As they approach the temple and he listama to the description of group easier encounter Maur considers...
"If it is undead, I should be able to. Depending on what it is exactly. And given your description, if it is in an evil temple it might be waste of power to try."

He taps his helm with the gauntlet, making kind of soft ping-ping sound that nevertheless deafens him for the moment.

"If it is chained, we could maybe destroy it from afar? But the cultist are either afraid of it or they prepared something for you given the changes here. I think we should secure the area first."

Spoiler: Actions

Spot; Listen: 1D20+4 = [6]+4 = 10
1D20+4 = [1]+4 = 5

 

[Neurotic]

"If we cannot defeat the thing and whatever else awaits us in there...I can temporarily consecrate the space. It will penalize the creature whatever is inside."

 

[JustinCase]

”Chains,” Caerth mutters uncertainly. His eyes scan the room, and he growls softly as the dwarf distracts his hearing with the thumping of his helmet.

OOC: Spot: 1D20+8 = [14]+8 = 22 Listen: 1D20+8 = [3]+8 = 11 Edit: Spot should be +9, so 23 total. Listen check failed.