D&D 5E CB's Stonefast IC -- COMPLETE

"Hmm. The tunnel follows the corridor, it seems," observes Father Spec. "We shall need to be on our guards for sliding ceiling panels from now on. Maybe Roscoe..."

He looks around, and realizes that he must have left Roscoe in the dark, and leaves his thought incomplete. When he finds Roscoe, he gives him the light back.
 

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The divine light...
Roscoe says with a sad voice as the light went off and returned to Spec's mace.
He goes with the light and the father to check the tunnel but he is too short to see anything.
Hey, the light is back!
He says happily and tries to attend the spider's bite before asking someone to give him a lift to the tunnel.
 

"Does anybody here need a rest?" Guran asks.

He waits for Fulgrim and Colden to get back from their hot pursuit of the last of their recent enemies. While waiting, Guran watches Father Spec perform his finger-jointed photon-dance of magical Light. It seems to Guran that the Father's somatic components for the Light cantrip are not precisely the same as the ones Guran recalls having tried (and failed) to learn when he was in training as an Acolyte. Guran resolves that, when he gets a chance, he's going to ask Father Spec to give him a few pointers on the divine art of gesturing properly.

OOC: Already posted: asking Fulgrim to see about removing webbing magically, and collecting treasure from out of thereunder.
 

Frustrated with his inability to slay the last orc, Fulgrim returned to the group. At Guran's inquest, he replied, "I don't think I really have a spell for that, but I may be able to pull them out without having actually physically interact with the webbing. Other wise we can burn it, but it may destroy any flammable, precious artifacts underneath."

Entering the room, Fulgrim paused to examine the spider carcass, extremely interested in the creature's internal organ structure. "Venom sacs..." he murmured. Turning to the portion of the room cloaked in webbing, he did his best to pull forth the treasures with a casting of mage hand.

OOC: Not sure if there would be a check associated with this... I'm under the assumption that this is a bigger "mess" than what prestidigitation could handle.
 

After Fulgrim mused about venom sacs Guran helpfully adds, "And fried dyar-beetle carcasses."

Then he corrects himself by saying, "I mean, died friar-beetles, of course. Er, I mean, I mean . . . those things," he concludes lamely.
 

Colden's steam runs out and he stops the pursuit, cursing his heavy armour for slowing him down. He returns and retrieves his axes, joining the others.
 

Fulgrim cast mage hand, which did the trick in gathering and removing the coins. The hand soon collected a small pile of twenty gold and five silver pieces. A more interesting find, however, was a neatly coiled 100' length of silk rope. Anyone touching the rope quickly realized that it had magic imbued in its weave. The rope was, however, covered in spider webbing that refused to come off, leaving a sticky residue that clung to the touch. Though obviously magical in nature, the rope seemed to have more than one quality and would require time and attention before one could fully understand its uses.

Roscoe asked for a boost into the ceiling hole and, when one was given, found himself in a five-foot cavity with a narrow ledge wide enough to stand on if one was careful. A tunnel heading due east presented itself, carved roughly from the stone of the mountain. The tunnel was black as the velvet on a bee, completely lightless, save for the light shed by Roscoe's short sword. It looked to be three or four feet in diameter--enough for a medium-sized creature to crawl through. As he lingered inside the ceiling hole, Roscoe smelled something. Almonds. Coming from somewhere down the tunnel.
 


Returning to the hole in the ceiling Roscoe says
A tunnel, leading to the east and into the heart of the mountain, the walls are black, maybe soot from a fire on the other side. The smell of almonds, same as the almond and cream pie of Mama Gretta back home fills the tunnel, quite odd when the denizens are non Halflings. A stout dwarf can crawl the tunnel without problem.
 

Spec examines the rope. No webbing comes off on his hands, but he can see that the spider's silk has somehow sunk into and become enmeshed with the silk weave of what might originally have been just a plain length of (admittedly good quality) silk rope. The rope is sticky to his touch. Spec's unable to tell more about the rope until he spends time (short rest) and handles it a bit more (attunement).
 

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