If Thoughts Could Kill

[Keia]

"Well, whitefire threat it is then," Verra concludes. "Let's use the same formation we did coming down here, but with more space in between the ranks - to make the area attacks of others less beneficial to them."

Verra will move to square B5 and allow the others to proceed down the hall before following as the rear guard.

 

[Jemal]

"sounds good to me." Qataria says, moving close to that hall. "Shall we?" She hefts her sword.

 

[Uriel]

Bellus moves forward, his small and nimble form keeping apace with Qataria, his eyes scanning for enemies.

 

[GruTheWanderer]

Despite his exceptional search skill, Bellus does not recognize the whitefire proximity trap until it fires, blasting out in a twenty foot radius. Everyone finds some amount of cover, so the damage is minimal (6 damage to everyone except Bellus, who has evasion, and Darian, who takes 1 after his protections).

Disabling the trap is easier than finding it, as Bellus quickly demonstrates.

The branching hallway beyond is thirty-five feet long and ten feet wide. The granite of the hall is shredded with scratches, etches, and furrows sliced into the stone. Granite dust and chunks of rock are thick underfoot, the debris of the relentless scratched claw marks. An alcove near the center of the western wall and one at the southern end of the hallway each hold the broken shards of a clay urn.

There are two doors on the western wall.

 

[Uriel]

Looking at his scortched companions, the gnome smiles sheepishly and says 'Er, sorry 'bout that folks...'

 

[Hammerhead]

Fire bad! Groknar is getting angry. As if to accentuate this, Groknar sprints towards the closest of the doors and rams into it, hoping to knock it off its hinges. [Str +7]

 

[Uriel]

Bellus moves qucly aside, lest he should get run over by the crazed Half-Orc

OoC:Fire Bad!
I pictured The Frankenstein Monster waving his arms around, although it was Phil Hartmann <R.I.P.>. Laughter flowed like wine.

 

[Jemal]

IC:
Qataria sniffs after the whitefire and shakes her head. "Damn traps are.." she stops what she's saying as Groknar rushes past "Very impulsive, isn't he? Well, might as well go help." She moves over to where he is, ready to help bash the door down if it's not locked and it's not allready bashed.

OOC:
Fire Bad, Tree Pretty. Want Beer. Bring Beer.

 

[Victim]

Darian brushes himself off after the ever so potent whitefire attack. He'd barely been singed. Psionic "evocations" were rather pathetic.

"Yes, there's no need to consider what manner of creatures casually claw through granite, is there? The fearless Groknar is a man of action."

"If there are numerous beasts within, allow me to cast, then pull the doors shut. We have 5 other halls to explore and we can't afford to let you get maimed right away, Groknar."

OOC: Whitefire bad. Slam/Slam/Slam/Slam/Bite/Rend worse.

 

[GruTheWanderer]

Groknar bursts into a fifteen by twenty foot chamber, followed closely by Qataria. Inside are four horrifying creatures. They look like an aborted cross between maggots and humans. They have no legs, but they do have vestigial arms. Their most notable and terrible physical features are overdeveloped spines and ribs, which break out of their flesh.

The creatures turn towards the door and begin scuttling forward, using the protruding ribs as legs.

Actions, please. Only Groknar and Qataria can see the creatures, but everyone can tell that combat is imminent.