Sailors on the Starless Sea

[Deuce Traveler]

Boral takes the vial and gives it a sniff. "I recognize the smell from an old merchant who used to sell medical supplies. Its black lotus oil, which is strong enough to make you feel hardier for around an hour, but afterwards it will cause severe pain as if you ingested poison. It might be most useful for a warrior who thinks he'll need to take an extra hit in the short term, and can survive the stomach cramps after. Looks to be two doses."

1d10=9

 

[GlassEye]

The vault and chests have no more secrets to reveal and so the brave villagers continue the search for any surviving, missing villagers...

Wide stone steps continue downwards and eventually descend into a long hall that, when paced off, reveals itself to be 35 ft wide and 70 ft long. A nook is concealed in each corner of the hall and the walls are decorated with elaborate tile mosaics depicting foul ceremonies to horrific and baleful fiends. The walls are slick with condensation and black algae. Condensation runs in rivulets and collects in a long, brackish pool set in the center of the hall. A wide passage at the far end of the hall turns and disappears into another set of stairs descending.

 

[doghead]

Siva and Narančasta

Narančasta moves slowly thought the hall, torch in one hand, sword in the other. He keeps his distance from the pool, having had more than enough encounters with things that live in pools of slime to last him for a while yet. Unfortunately, he gets the feeling that his wishes in the matter might not account for much.

He is beginning to really dislike this place.

"What do you make of the murals?" he says to no one in particular. As much to break the oppressive silence as anything.

Siva, staying within the light cast by Narančasta's torch, shrugs.

"A chaos cult of some sort, with lots of slippery slithery things, judging by the that picture. Lots of beastly badness."

"Its the other picture that worries me, its like a sacrificial alter of some sort, with a magician or priest. And some sort of terrible tentacle terror as well."

Siva falls silent for a moment. She doesn't really know what she is doing. No instructions came with the revelation, just a feeling that she was part of something bigger, stronger. They needed that strength now. Perhaps she just need to learn to have ... faith.

[sblock=OOC]Siva will cast Protection from Evil. I really like the idea of being able to extend her protection to others as well. But at this stage we are just hoping for an improvement on last time

[roll0][/sblock]

Edit: "Perhaps I should have just become a thief," Siva mutters.

 

[Scott DeWar]

Hank considers the makabe murals. He shivers at the ghoulishness of it.

hank the scribe goes through what he might have had to copy. *ungh*

fortunately for his sanity he hasn't got a clue.

1d20+2=6

 

[doghead]

Narančasta and Siva

A nook is concealed in each corner of the hall and the walls are decorated with elaborate tile mosaics depicting foul ceremonies to horrific and baleful fiends.

Noticing the nooks, Narančasta inspects those on his side using the torch to illuminate the interiors.

"There are nooks at in the each corner. Check the ones on the other side."

Siva slings her bow and takes one of the torches from her bag and lights it off Narančasta's.

"Just in case, you know, you get eaten or something."

She draws her sword and proceeds to check the nooks on the other side.

[sblock=OOC]Going to try a few search rolls just for fun. Untrained for Narančasta. Siva has more experience looking for danger in dark places as a hunter. Pity she is not so good at it.
Narančasta: [roll0]
Siva: [roll1][/sblock]

 

[GlassEye]

Unfortunately, Siva's spell is not granted by her god and there is no divine protection bestowed on her or her companions. As before the group will have to continue with whatever protections they can find or provide for themselves and each other.

Each nook contains a single hooded robe, embroidered with bizarre sigils and patterns stitched in silver thread. Dampness has gotten to the fabric and the robes reek of mildew and rot though they could still be worn.

Further searching the long chamber turns up nothing else. There is only the murky pool and the way deeper.

 

[doghead]

Each nook contains a single hooded robe, embroidered with bizarre sigils and patterns stitched in silver thread. Dampness has gotten to the fabric and the robes reek of mildew and rot though they could still be worn.

Siva gathers up all the robes. She wraps them up with the silk tabard and stuff them into her bag.

"These will make a fine offering."

Narančasta takes the opportunity to move over to the entrance to the stairs leading down and listen for any sign of ... well, anything.

[sblock=OOC]Narančasta Search Check [roll0]+2[/sblock]

 

[Deuce Traveler]

Kurl says, "Best to avoid the pool. Who knows what it might hide."

"Just critters, maybe, but also possibly treasure stashed away. Still, I won't be the one to stick my hand in," Boral answers.

"Well then we should be on our way. I'll take point once more," Tender offers as he looks to go deeper into the tunnels. The dwarf pays close, dwarven attention to the passage and whether it seems to have a degradation of descent.

 

[GlassEye]

Down, down, and down the wide stone steps run to the dark-sand beach of a vast underground sea. Far out across the water, you can make out a golden glow through the gloom. An enormous menhir stands at the water’s edge, dark waves lapping at its intricately carved faces.

Past the towering standing stone, a dragon-prowed longship emerges from the darkness, its hull scrawled with forbidding sigils and runes that glow a sickly green in the dim light. The ship draws to a stop some 50 feet offshore.

The beat of distant drums and far-off wails of terror mixes with the quiet lapping of the waves.

 

[Scott DeWar]

Homar looks pale, and fear in his eyes. He just need the right reason to bolt. The pain of his missing fingers are not helping any at all.

Franko has his head cocked to one side . . . a silly grin on his face . . . . .

Hank stands and watches every thing, He seems to be writing a novel in his head.