D&D 5E (IC) Fitz's Folly

[gnarlygninja]

Ghorrak listened to the group discussing where to go and gave a half hearted gesture down the hallway to his left, because they were right there, but shrugged. Ultimately he had no hunches about which room the group should explore.

OOC: It's really a combination of sunk cost and being right there, any of the rooms on this floor are probably fine. Are the gaping devil faces something the group has dealt with before?

 

[FitzTheRuke]

Are the gaping devil faces something the group has dealt with before?

OOC: Oh-so-many times. First, Gargoyles with faces carved to look that way tried to trap them in nets (though Ghorrak was not there that time). Then, in the tomb, they have been seen in various carvings. The last big one was at a T-Junction on Level One. (Post #2437). A voice from within tried to get them to come inside. Ghorrak guarded it for awhile while it pleaded with him. After that, the Tomb Dwarves wore masks carved to look that way. Now this one. Perhaps they are best left alone?

 

[Prickly Pear]

Chrysagon accept the staff from Myrral. Thank you, he says. He can feel some power in it and hopes it will be useful in the near future. He could carry it in his left hand and use it to block blows instead of the shield he lost earlier. He asks Myrral: Did the corpse have anything else on its person? Anything that could be useful?

He turns to Ghorrak, I agree with you, let's see if it's real wine in those fountains. A drink would be nice, Chrysagon said longingly.

 

[Kobold Stew]

Miss Imogen is willing to use the fine-fountain room as a base for a rest, b ut she is prepared for whatever will attack (and she does expect something) if they enter in.

 

[FitzTheRuke]

The hallway to the "Wine Room" (as the group had come to call it based on Dellrak's description) was part of the strange arched crossroad. The hall led upward, and although gravity continued to point down to the ground under their feet, the room must have been upright (or perhaps even upside-down) based on the slope of the passage that led that way.

On a checkerboard marble floor, a gilded coffin sparkled in sunlight streaming down from the chamber’s vaulted ceiling, which arched twelve feet overhead. Four stone gargoyle heads protruded from the walls, pouring pleasant-smelling red wine from their smiling mouths into four fountains, which did not seem to become any more full in spite of the constant flow.

Spoiler: Ussal Only

There are 60 chequered floor tiles. 4 fountains. 4 pillars. 1 coffin. The spirit in your head does not like the look of the coffin.

 

[MetaVoid]

"That one coffin...it is not sssomething we should touch. So says Obo'laka." Ussal offers slithering inside.
"We can ressst here." he takes a drink from the fountain.

OOC: [poison immunity]
Also, level up in the evening

 

[FitzTheRuke]

"It is not one of ours" explained Ussal in a voice that sounded very much unlike him.

He took a drink from the fountain, and found it to be a decent wine, reminding him of some of his travels. (Many yuan-ti enjoyed wine, but it was not something that was available in Omu).

 

[FitzTheRuke]

Chrysagon lifted the goat-headed corpse's staff. It seemed light and easy to spin. In addition, the Broodguard had poked at the corpse when Chrysagon had encouraged him to do so, and had recovered two books: One was a spellbook, and the other appeared to be a personal journal belonging to someone named Devlin Myantos.

OOC: As Ghorrak noted earlier, Devlin's staff is a Staff of Striking: A +3 Quarterstaff with 10 charges. When you hit with a melee attack, you can expend up to 3 charges. For each charge you expend, the target takes an extra 1d6 force damage. The staff regains 1d6 + 4 expended charges daily at dawn. If you expend the last charge, roll a d20. On a 1, the staff becomes a nonmagical quarterstaff. Anyone want to look at either book?

 

[Kobold Stew]

Miss Imogen is exhausted. She empties her flask of water, which had been running low already. "Replenishing this with wine will not help," she says to no one in particular. "We need to be able to drink."

She undoes her boots, and positions herself next to a wall, checking it carefully, before she falls asleep. Someone will wake her for her watch, she presumes.

When she does awake, she finds she has not slept well at all. She bundles up her bedroll, and runs her hand over her clothing, freezing what moisture there is in the air, and extracting the ice particples from the weave of the fabric. It keeps things clean, and by the time she is done, both her clothes and hair look immaculate. Nevertheless, with no toilet and no good food, she is intemperate. Her quiver hangs at her hip, and she is ready to go.

 

[Neurotic]

Myrral takes the journal and reads it as they ready for bed. He looks the coffin over, but heeds Ussals warning. But his curiosity is piqued.
"Why do you say that, Ussal? Not one of...Omu gods? What is it then?"

OOC: Investigation +3, Perception +6 if needed