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5E The Kalarian Precipice - Chapter Two


First Post
Jeovanna- The Stairwell

Jeovanna growled in frustration, and not a little embarrassment. This thing was the size of the side of a barn, and no one could hit it!

Perhaps the fop was right. They should back off.

"Up! Past the trap- and you, girl, set it off once we are clear!" Jeovanna roared. It might not have been her plan, but nobody else was listening to the others when they said it!

She'd swoop up her sword, though it brought her closer to the armor, if only briefly, and would whisk the pommel of her sword at its 'face' as she rose, to at least try and throw it off balance.

<Roll to hit: 15, so no roll for damage>

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First Post
Otiroth: The Stairwell

"Will hitting the trap with a spell bolt set it off?" Otiroth asked Annit quickly. He did not much like the idea of the woman being too close to it- or the armor- when it went off.

So far he'd had little luck in hitting the armor, but it seemed he was not alone.

He'd take a step forward. "Construct! You disobey your masters! Do not cross the warding stone!" And he'd throw forward one hand- a glowing symbol appeared on one of the stairs, as far down as he could cast it. The symbol did indeed look quite magical!

<Spell-casting- Prestidigitation to create a symbol. Deception check= 17>


Coming up the steps

Set off the trap on purpose?

Annit quite liked the idea, the sneaky and curious part of her definitely didn’t object to this concept.

“I don’t know!” She called back, “force to the plate near the hinges might do it!”

A young woman’s arrows weren’t going to bust it open. Hopefully one of them had something more convincing to work with, a bludgeoning tool or a meaty spell of some sort.

It was unexpected then, the effect of Otiroth’s symbol and deception. The armor actually hesitated. It took a moment to process this new information... before deciding that an appropriate response was missing from the crafter’s instructions. The metal turned back to face it's enemies.

<Otiroth’s move was certainly original :) Although the Construct would usually be immune to this kind of deception, the cool move and fact the rolls were so far apart (Deception of 17 or 21 vs Insight of 1) warranted some kind of advantage for you. Thus, the Armor is not attacking this round.>


First Post
Dain - The Stairwell

The healing spell washed over Dain with a feeling of pure elation. The pain he had been feeling, quite acutely, vanished with the cleric's words.

Suru? I thank you, goddess. I will repay the debt, and aid your servant when I can!

As the armor hesitated, due to the ingenuity of the sorcerer, Dain at first contemplated striking at its metallic plates yet again. But Annit's words gave him pause. Despite the fact that his blade had damaged the creature quite badly, it did not seem as bad off as he would have liked. And he could not afford to take another beating from its rusty gauntlets.

So he used his newly-regained vigor for another purpose! The cleric, his old jerky-enjoying friend, had a mace! What better device to smash a door hinge?! Dain waved his sword at the armor, more to get its attention than anything, and took a step backwards. "Get back, comrades! We must hope the immortals are on our side, but let us not make their job too difficult! Suru can guide your mace, friend! Strike true!"

<rolled a 2>


First Post
Metea: Stairwell

Time to pull back! They had no idea what the trap would do, and it was as likely it would summon another dozen of these creatures as it would do anything that might harm the armor... or just miss it. But it was better than standing against it here!

Metea pulled back enough to give the others time to move back too, though she would loose one more eldritch blast at the armor, to make sure to try and keep it off edge.

<Eldritch blast: 19 to hit, 4 damage>

Carthum One-Tusk: The Stairwell

Carthum kept his shield raised and they'd begin to pull back while the armor hesitated.

The half-orc hoped that Annit had estimated the range of the trap well! If not, he was in for a world of hurt, but they were in for that either way. Once they were on the other side of the trap, taking advantage of the armor's hesitation, he'd turn his attention to the rusty trap pressure plate.

Carthum raised his shield over his head, and then aimed a strike at the pressure plate... hopefully hard enough to set it off without simply shattering and destroy it!

Suru, guide his strike!

<Roll to hit: 22>


Black on black

<Round 4
Init 9 - Annit
Init 7 - Jeovanna
Init 5 - Otiroth
Init 4 - Armor (-32 hp)
Init 3 - Metea & Dain
Init 1 - Carthum>

Metea’s blast once again sparkles and snaps its energy against the oncoming threat. Perhaps there is some comfort now, in the mysterious armor looking very much worse and worn from the party’s strikes. It isn't finished yet though! A short moment of indecision, and then the metallic mass renews it's climb.

Wisely using the short respite to retreat onto the landing, Annit backs up along with the rest of the team, watching as Carthum proceeds to strike the overhead metal plate. Standing at well over six feet in half-orc height, it is an easy reach for the priest. A great clang! rings out and reverberates off the passage walls, a well placed impact lands on the trap.

A brief moment of silence then, before an ominous creaking is heard from above. The metal upon the ceiling swings free like a loose jaw, and darkness rains upon the top of the steps and the armor below. Black droplets splatter downwards at first, before the sticky mass of viscous ooze flows out like un-lidded tar. It is oil, or grease of some sort, a sticky moving river against the armor’s metal feet, flowing downwards one step at a time.

By instinct alone, taking another step up to face Carthum, the animated monstrosity loses balance. With a sickening plunge it falls backwards, slamming against the steps and sliding down them at speed, thanks to the recent lubrication. Not all armor likes to be oiled, it seems.

Half the distance of the passage it travels, twisting and smashing. Then shockingly it moves to stand back up, and nearby, black oily fingers reach out to touch Dain’s still burning torch.

Annit’s eyes open wide with fear, though it is uncertain if the armor’s endurance or the potential for fire... meeting with miner’s grease is the greater threat. There is only one thing she can do in this instant. Her shortbow is raised and she takes a shot at the armor. Advantage is not on her side, firing off into the looming dark. Her arrow bounces of a wall and clatters to the ground.

<Rolls used:
Armor: Dex save DC 15 to keep footing = 5 Fail.
Distance sliding d6 x 10 ft = 50ft.
Damage per 10ft slide is d4. Damage taken = 13
Annit: Disadvantaged attack = 7 Miss.

Notes: It is likely that you have 1 round left until the torch flames ignite the steps (if the substance is flammable). Walking down the steps at this point will require a DC 15 Dex check to keep footing. The armor is severely damaged but is attempting to stand on its next turn.>


First Post
Jeovanna- Further Down

They could at least outpace the creature; it was a bit slow, though it felt fast in the enclosed area. Oil poured from the trap; the potential for fire was certainly there, but they were not standing in it, so Jeovanna did not see the threat.

The tall woman grasped Carthum by the back of the armor and hauled him an arm length's back to behind her, before drawing her own bow. She figured Dain had the good sense to move back himself.

It was a hunting weapon, but its arrows still sting...

<18 to attack. 8 damage.>


First Post
Otiroth: Further Down

"Let it burn itself," Otiroth said dismissively. At least, if he attacked it now, he'd light the oil on fire for it, even if he missed.

There was enough air down here to let it burn itself out, but even so. The torch was too far for him to snuff, but he could at least try and minimize the reach of the oil, cleaning it off of as much of the topmost steps near them as he could though it was maybe too big for his spell to do in one go.

<Prestidigitation to clean item on the top step surface.>


Further Down

So that's how it is done...

Annit grinned as Jeovanna's arrow was loosed. Down the steps, there was a definite sound of metal eating into metal. What a shot! She'd stuck the thing right in its helm, at which point the whole mass of plate seemed to crumble into nothing more than a pile of greasy, rusty trash. The construct was deconstructed at last!

Otiroth's cleaning skills mixed with a magic wave of the hand seemed to be working wonders too, the top few steps mysteriously scrubbed of immediate threat by an invisible rag.


First Post
Dain - Further Down

Dain stepped slowly backwards, up the steps, as Carthum made good his strike. The noise that followed was proof that something was going to happen and when the oil began to fall, Dain was clear from it. He spied it nearing his torch and his head turned from right to left, making sure none of the party were thinking of rushing downwards.

As the armor slipped and fell, Dain positioned himself and his sword in preparation for its return.

My heart races, but not with fear. No. My body, at least, has memory of some martial valor. I may not have been the son of an Emperor, but I was no ploughman's scion, either. Essithea knew this, knows it still...

Jeovanna's arrow whizzed by, and he saw the armor topple into a pile of rubbish. With a nod of approval at her aim, he sheathed his sword and immediately found the cleric, patting him on the back. "You serve your goddess well, friend." Dain spoke matter of factly, without excitement. "And I owe you both for your healing touch."

Like the others, he turned to watch what happened when the oil reached the fire. But his thoughts were already on what they would encounter next....further down. "No doubt we have the attention of this place now." He said, mostly to himself. "We've roused every foul thing that may have been sleeping in the dark places." He turned to look at his comrades. "And if they are wise, they will find other holes to hide in."


First Post
Metea- Further Down

It was over. It was done!

"Ha. See? It was just a bit of bluster. They should've sent a real guard," Metea bragged, for if she spoke like that, neither her voice nor her hands would shake, surely.

But hesitated crept back in as Dain spoke. "Do you... think there are more of them? Really?"

Metea moved forward to watch Otiroth work on the stairwell. Her tail might've brushed his bum, purely incidentally. She liked watching the sorcerer work!

Carthum One-Tusk: How could you

Carthum gave a tusky grin back to Dain, nodding. "Though Suru is usually seen as a God, friend!"

"And indeed, this was well done, though I believe those of us who are not fireproof should hang back until the torch is either out, or the oil is. And perhaps, when we find a safe place to rest, we could discuss what happened during that b- Otiroth!"

To be fair, the sounds of the fight from before and the clanking of the armor also echoed plenty, but the half-orc's bellow was just a bit more noise.

They could not afford to fight amongst themselves, obviously. But oh, he had a very grim expression.


Annit: A view from behind

Annit stood to the back of the landing and considered Dain’s heavy words. He was probably right that if there were other things down below, they would know they weren’t alone soon enough. It was a worry, but she felt strangely comfortable in the presence of such an unlikely and unique group of explorers. She’d seen plenty in these first few moments underground and most of it was reassuring. They weren’t all anxiety and sternness either. She smiled to herself at the Tiefling’s play with the sorcerer's behind. There was definitely something saucy going on there. It was going to be an interesting journey indeed!

Hanging back, as the priest put it, sounded like an excellent plan. Things were likely to heat up soon, if they hadn’t already for Otiroth..

<Annit Insight roll = 14 to understand vague nature of Otiroth & Metea's relationship.
Jeovanna & Otiroth next, then fire time.>


First Post
Jeovanna- Further Down

The oil continued to drizzle further down the stairs- it was creeping away from them, but things were heating up anyway.

"Yes," Jeovanna grimaced in agreement with Carthum. Talking. There were situations where jumping in front of her in combat could turn things much worse.

The rest was just distraction. At least no-one seemed traumatized.


First Post
Otiroth: Further down

Otiroth continued to use prestidigitation to clear what steps he could- minimizing the fire was better than nothing.

Metea strolled up behind him. He was quite aware of that as well, though would keep on working, as was their 'game'. Although she forgot- or maybe not- about a factor in this scenario. The sorcerer almost jumped, turning back towards the rest. "What? What! I didn't do a damn thing!" He'd stammer back at Carthum, though it was probably quite futile.

Oil was hissing and spitting now. Time for all of them to step back- more room for that now though!- and watch the show, and maybe forget about the other one.


It began with smouldering, a bitter smell wafting up the steps whilst grey smog arose beneath the torch. Then it caught. First a small flame waltzed a few feet like a drunken miniature dancer, but with each flicker and turn it grew. Waves of bright glowing orange heat drifted outwards, sizzling and popping, leaping up steps and crawling up walls. It wasn't long before the whole passage was ablaze, hot and angry, searching everywhere for more fuel to wet it's appetite. But there was none. It was a barren land of nothing but cold dark rock.

As quickly as it had sprung to life, the fire died, leaving behind a strong reminder of it's brief rise to power. A ghastly thick haze in the air, the clingy stench of an impure accelerant and stones still black yet hot to touch.

<Visibility is reduced to 20ft for the time being. The steps lose heat quickly, but the smog looks like it wants to hang around and smells nasty.

No need to post in the initiative order anymore, fire at will :)>


First Post
Dain - Descending

The sudden flaring forth of fire lit up the dim mines with a fleeting brilliance, eradicating even their shadows upon the wall, before it quickly lost its strength and began to fizzle out. The hazy smoke left behind made Dain sneer in disgust and annoyance. But even as he sneered, he was pulling a second torch from his pack. Crouching down, he worked quickly to light it.

I wonder if we shall all leave this place alive?

"I believe our order of descent should be the same. Swords in the front, good eyes for traps in the middle, and sorcery in the rear along with Suru's servant. Believe me when I say that the cleric's touch may be our greatest asset."

Once the torch was lit, Dain drew his sword once again and started down the steps at a steady pace. "Don't mind the fear, friends. Think of the tales you shall tell your children as they sit at your feet by the fire, and how you will boast of your deeds and valor." Honestly, it was hard to tell if Dain was being sincere or sarcastic, such was the tone of his voice.

But one thing was certain, he was moving at a steady pace.

<Perception skill check: 10>


First Post
Metea- Descending

"Hm. Not a bad fire. Worth at least three chickens, but none of them hens," Metea said lightly.

But nobody else looked exactly thrilled, and she'd frown. "Maybe you go ahead, Otiroth? I will smooth my brother's hackles," she meant it teasingly, but a bit seriously as well, and as she fell in line alongside Carthum in the rear, she'd stroke his arm gently. He took things so seriously!

Her mind, though, was a bit frustrated, as already, she was thinking of all the secrets she had already gained. She longed to whisper to her patron... knew that soon enough, it'd not only be expected, but demanded. But she did not imagine her comrades wanted a narration of their descent...


Second Landing

Pushing through the smog, Dain’s torchlight surrounds the group in yellow swirling haze. The miner’s grease certainly has its own special aroma that lingers on the nose, but nobody chokes or gasps on the way down. Perhaps just the odd sneeze or wheezy breath.

Reaching the next landing past the pile of rusty armor that now lies still, all is without incident, even though a few of the steps were still a little slippery. The air begins to clear. Though the place is quiet except for your footsteps, there is a light draft that blows across the ankles from time to time too.

As predicted, there is a door to the left and right. Both look thick and sturdy, solid hard planks nailed and overlapped, hanging off thick iron hinges. Each has a tough looking latch and a brass plated keyhole. Thankfully, the one on the left is open. The other, according to a little quick investigation from Annit, is locked.

Through the left side door is what appears to be living quarters of some kind. A weathered table with a few old ceramic cups atop, surrounded by short wooden stools. Along the far wall lies a row of hessian cushions loaded with hay, which has mostly broken down. A resting place of some kind most likely, you can almost imagine a group of tired and dirty faced miners here, sharing a few stories during a short break from heavy labor.

<This is a good opportunity for a short rest and to get to know each other a little better, as I’m going to have limited internet for a few days. I’ll pop in and tag when I can :) then we can push on into the unknown. Annit is happy to stand watch if you like, and will respond to any dialogue you have with her during my opportunities to get online.>
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