(Adventure) The Haunted Halls of Stonepike

[dpdx]

Rurik waits anxiously below the crevass for an entire ten seconds. Then, gingerly, he sets his pack down and grabs the grappling hook sticking out of it. Finding also a length of rope, Rurik attaches the two pieces with a tight knot, and hands the hook end to Thurgan.

"You wouldn't mind attaching that somewhere sturdy, would you, Thurgan? That gives the others who cannot climb a way to follow you up, should you need the assistance." Rurik posits to Thurgan in court dwarven, a standard, neutral dialect.

As Thurgan and Aranel make their way up [you rolling Climb checks for everyone, Uriel?], Rurik stands ready, axe in belt, then follows them, eyes up the wall to dodge falling objects.

 

[Keia]

"You wouldn't mind attaching that somewhere sturdy, would you, Thurgan? That gives the others who cannot climb a way to follow you up, should you need the assistance."

" 'Course, glad ta take it up . . . I should'a thought of it meself," Thurgan replied. "I donna plan on stayin' up there a minute more'n we need."

 

[nimisgod]

The deep halfling kept his dark-seeing eyes around the area, whilst Thurgan and Aranel did the climbing. Violet was in her holster, but Sir Ishmael had his kite shield ready. In the dim light, the paint on the shield appeared only brighter than what time had shown it to be.

Sir Ishmael mentally applauded Demonbane's decision. However, he berated himself for not thinking of it earlier, engaging in the usual mental self-flaggellation that made him unaware of the surroundings he was trying to guard. He only wished that he could be the all-answering leader Deathscythe thought he was, but he found himself woefully inadequate.

 

[Guilt Puppy]

"Make sure'n chase it out where we can fight it, should ye see it!" Sturm calls up, as they ascend. "'cause I've promised m'self one more good fight today, 'n I'd hate'n have'n settle fer one of you!"

The dwarf paces impatiently, gripping hard onto his scythe, waiting for word on which way to travel.

 

[Uriel]

OoC:I trust you all say my GD post about the comp..it took longer than I thought to get things online again, sorry...

IC

A hook flies skywards, and Aranel and Thurgan get their climbing gear in order, making their way up and into the crevasse with relative ease.
Once inside the rock, Thurgan fonds a solid place to drive a spike, giving the hook a solid catch-place, even as Aranel scurries upwards into a place where she can safely pause to assist Thurgan. It is in this manner that the two make their way up through a narrow (though big enough to allow passage) flew and into a slightly larger opening. It is Thurgan, his eyes accustomed to the Dark who spots the slick blood, the older stains upon the walls, even as Aranel's keen nose picks u the smell of carrion coming from somewhere above.


******************************************************


Below, Rurik,Sir Ishmael and Sturm wait, eyes cast upwards.
Sturm's head cocks down suddenly, a short blat followed by a second resounding through the Lower Halls.It was the signal horn...

 

[Keia]

Thurgan - Init: +2; AC: 18; HP: 29/29; Atk: W-axe +6 (1d10+2), X-bow +5 (1d8+1)

Thurgan wrinkled his nose at the smell as he worked to set the rope for his companions. The look on Aranel's face confirmed his suspicions.

“That’s not a smell I’ll ever git used to,” Thurgan commented. His eyes scanned the surrounding area for danger, then for a way to get what he smelled. He pointed on the wall to where he found the blood, saying, “Old blood. Not good, unless it’s the critter’s.”

Just as he leaned over the flew to yell down to his companions that the flue area was clear, he heard the signal horn.

“Where’s it coming from? We’ll try’n git there from up here to cut off any escape,” Thurgan yelled down.

 

[nimisgod]

"The Lower Halls!" Sir Ishmael gave Thurgan his answer. "We shall rendezvous with thee there!"

"Let us away to aid Stonepike" The knight gave Deathscythe and Demonbane a nod, then ran full speed toward the Lower Halls. He moved as quickly as his legs could carry him, slowing only a little (to a double move) at the places near the water.

Violet remained at his belt. Sir Ishmael had instead drawn one of the cold iron darts with his right hand.

 

[Guilt Puppy]

Sturm rushes off as well, outpacing most of the others and not looking back; every second may make the difference between life and death for the guardsmen, but more importantly, it might make a difference for the beast, and he wanted to get one more good swing at the thing...

The volume of the horn is well-matched by his battlecry.

(Full run, all caution to the wind. The moment he's within 60 feet of the beast, he'll begin truly raging.)

 

[Ankh-Morpork Guard]

AC 17, Rapier+1, HCB+5, MwkHCB+6, HP 11,

It had been a nauseating smell. Her usual line of work meant that she rarely smelt anything worse than a privvy as she passed over ther roof.
"Aye a legit business is a proud thing to have...but you need a fair bit of the shiny before setting up a good one don't you?" she asked with a grin.

Anything else she was going to say was cut off by the horn. Despite being a fair way off it sounded horribly loud up here in the dark smelly flue.
There was a muttered curse from her lips and she lookedd to Thurgan as he was yelling to the others.

"Ah yes, there's nothing better than being in the path of an injured and cornered cloaker." She commented dryly before continuing up.
"What exactly IS a cloaker anyway?" she asked for conversation as they moved.

 

[Keia]

Thurgan - Init: +2; AC: 18; HP: 29/29; Atk: W-axe +6 (1d10+2), X-bow +5 (1d8+1)

"What exactly IS a cloaker anyway?" she asked for conversation as they moved.

"I got no idea, other than somethin' that needs ta die," Thurgan commented. "I've only been at this a coupl'a weeks, before that I was appenticed to Master Drewer, the blacksmith in town. Been doing his work for a coupl'a years, so I haven't gotten out much."

"And shiny'sa are always needed," Thurgan said and smiled, "though we'll see how were treated after we save 'em from the beasties."