The Treasure of the Tierra Padre... [Knight Otu Judging]
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"Rogier", said Oirhandir softly, "whatever it is, it's been here a long, long time. Probably longer than any of us have been alive, and I've already lived longer than all but a handful of men. If we post a guard, how much mischief can it do in one more night?"
The elf continued: "We will spend the night here, no matter what happens. We cannot reach the mill, or any other place dry enough to sleep on, by nightfall. And what if we don't find the source of the evil by nightfall? After dragging yourself across the swamp and through this cavern all day, will your tired bones rest any easier knowing that it's still down here?"
He paused. "I don't know the ways of your god, Rogier. But if there is evil afoot, I would think that he would want you to gain your full strength and strike a decisive blow, rather than spend the last of your strength seeking the unknown in every nook and cranny of this place."
"I have spoken much. But know full well that whatever this party decides, I will give my best effort to brining it to pass." He retrieved the broken pieces of the ancient vial from his sack. "I had hoped to do this tonight, so that I could rest and have my magical powers at their peak tomorrow. But perhaps we will learn something from this that will put our minds in agreement." He squinted at the hulking half-orc. "Gath, I give you my word that this witch-work will cause you no harm. It is safe."
With that, he began chanting in an ancient tongue that was and was not the speech of dragons. As he spoke, he begain wringing his hands together as if he was shaping a ball of clay between them. Slowly, the fragments of the vial softened and began to knit themselves together. After a few moments, what was once a handful of broken pottery had shape once again. And if it was not as perfect as new, it once more had form and definition. Oirhandir held the little vial up for all to see, and studied it closely as he turned it in his hand. Were there only stains from some liquid dried up ages ago, or were some other markings now visible once the pieces had been joined together?
OoC: I know, it's just a simple Mend spell, but maybe we'll learn something from it.
The elf continued: "We will spend the night here, no matter what happens. We cannot reach the mill, or any other place dry enough to sleep on, by nightfall. And what if we don't find the source of the evil by nightfall? After dragging yourself across the swamp and through this cavern all day, will your tired bones rest any easier knowing that it's still down here?"
He paused. "I don't know the ways of your god, Rogier. But if there is evil afoot, I would think that he would want you to gain your full strength and strike a decisive blow, rather than spend the last of your strength seeking the unknown in every nook and cranny of this place."
"I have spoken much. But know full well that whatever this party decides, I will give my best effort to brining it to pass." He retrieved the broken pieces of the ancient vial from his sack. "I had hoped to do this tonight, so that I could rest and have my magical powers at their peak tomorrow. But perhaps we will learn something from this that will put our minds in agreement." He squinted at the hulking half-orc. "Gath, I give you my word that this witch-work will cause you no harm. It is safe."
With that, he began chanting in an ancient tongue that was and was not the speech of dragons. As he spoke, he begain wringing his hands together as if he was shaping a ball of clay between them. Slowly, the fragments of the vial softened and began to knit themselves together. After a few moments, what was once a handful of broken pottery had shape once again. And if it was not as perfect as new, it once more had form and definition. Oirhandir held the little vial up for all to see, and studied it closely as he turned it in his hand. Were there only stains from some liquid dried up ages ago, or were some other markings now visible once the pieces had been joined together?
OoC: I know, it's just a simple Mend spell, but maybe we'll learn something from it.
Pbartender
First Post
Oirhandir mananges to magically recombine a few of the larger peices pottery together. He finds himself holding the majority of a small unmarked earthenware vial, of the sort normally used for holding ink, potions, or medicinal draughts such as poison antitoxin. The vial is just big enough for him to stick both of his thumbs inside, and probably held no more than about an ounce or two of liquid.
Oirhandir's expression fell as he studied the little vial. "Nothing", he said, his disappointment evident. He couldn't even tell what the vial once held...would anything but ink have left such a stain after all these years? But would ink have changed color so much, taking on a reddish hue? There just weren't enough clues. Oirhandir pondered dunking the little vial in the pool in hopes of dissolving some of the residue on the inside, but decided to just set the thing on the little ledge between the pool and the wall.
"Well, if we are going to do this thing, we should prepare well", he said, a sense of resolution overcoming his funk. "We should send our best swimmer, who may not be Rogier." He nodded quickly to the paladin, "Not to disparage your vigor or your talent."
He continued. "That person should take two ropes, one in his hand, and one tied about his waist. He can secure the one in his hand to a good hold on the other side, yet we can still use the one at his waist to pull him to safety. We should also have rope signals, say one pull for more slack, two pulls to take slack up, and three pulls to signal an emergency. And, at the end of a prearranged time, we should pull hard on the rope no matter what signals we've got. Does anyone have other suggestions?"
The elf looked around, hoping that whatever transpired, the party could return to the outerworld before their pack animals had all found their ways into the bellies of crocodiles.
"Well, if we are going to do this thing, we should prepare well", he said, a sense of resolution overcoming his funk. "We should send our best swimmer, who may not be Rogier." He nodded quickly to the paladin, "Not to disparage your vigor or your talent."
He continued. "That person should take two ropes, one in his hand, and one tied about his waist. He can secure the one in his hand to a good hold on the other side, yet we can still use the one at his waist to pull him to safety. We should also have rope signals, say one pull for more slack, two pulls to take slack up, and three pulls to signal an emergency. And, at the end of a prearranged time, we should pull hard on the rope no matter what signals we've got. Does anyone have other suggestions?"
The elf looked around, hoping that whatever transpired, the party could return to the outerworld before their pack animals had all found their ways into the bellies of crocodiles.
Pbartender
First Post
OOC: Sorry I've been a little negligent, guys... Illness, injury, a mini-con, and an impending departmental transfer have made it a busy week.
So, then... What's the plan?
So, then... What's the plan?
Pbartender
First Post
Everyone heads back to the campsite, where Gath and Razir are keeping an eye on the pack animals. Dinner is cooked, watches are set, and the night passes apparently uneventfully.
The next morning, a dim sun rises over the misty swamp.
The next morning, a dim sun rises over the misty swamp.
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