The Awesome New Adventure

[jm_jazzman]

It is a terribly cold and rainy night. The downpour is oppressive, and it is hard to make out the path of the muddy road as you travel through these wooded hills towards the warm lights of the town up ahead.

As you leave the trees and descend one last slippery slope near the edge of town, something shiny catches your eye in a puddle of muck near the side of the road. Reaching down slowly, you discover a single gold coin half-buried in the mud. This is certainly a very fortunate discovery, and you decide that, given the circumstances, the only right thing to do would be to spend it all at a decent inn for a good night's sleep, a warm meal, and a few ales.

With your soaked clothes clinging to your skin, you push forward through the pounding rain to the gates of the town's wall. The gate itself is not barred shut, instead just resting in a nearly-closed position. Above it, you can faintly make out the name of the town, carved into a decorative wooden beam: Riverview. The gate master lets you enter without a question before hurrying back into the comfortable dryness of his lamp-lit booth.

Your first view inside the walls is not a welcoming one; the streets are abandoned and there are no lights to be seen in any of the windows. However, you quickly notice the warm glow of fire-light dancing on the sides of buildings from around the corner of the first intersection in front if you. Moving forward and rounding the corner, you see a well-lit inn with a bright oil lamp hanging above the front door. The windows are alight from within, there is smoke pouring from both chimneys, and the sounds of excited chatter and merriment can be heard above the endless crashing of water into the ponds that cover the road. Moving closer, you can smell food being cooked and the destinctive odour of good booze hanging in the air.

Without hezitating, you pull the sturdy front door open to find the inn keeper's bar right in front of you, where you promptly slap down your newly found coin.

"Good evening," says the inn keeper, a fat and balding man with an unkept beard, "Welcome to the Meeting Street Inn".


every pc has a room, a meal, and up to 5 drinks for the night.

[Doctor Bloo]

Gungis looks nervously around the room for a secluded table.
I will have some Goat's milk please

[jm_jazzman]

The inn keeper gives Gungis what might be an odd look, but it is so quick and fleeting that it can't be for certain.
Right away, my friend. I'll have it brought over to you. Take a seat where ever pleases you.

The only totally empty table is in a shadowy corner of the room, near a window.

[Aeti]

As he places his coin on the wood counter, Valthar lowers the dark grey hood of his cloak, wishing the weave had been tighter to block more of the rain.
Well met, hza'dhak, Valthar says carefully to the innkeeper, giving him all the honour due to a man who has based his life on alcohol.
I would like a room for the night, and as many drinks as this will buy me.

[jm_jazzman]

The inn keeper reaches under the bar and hands Valthar a key, attached by a short string to a small wooden puck with the number 8 carved into it.

Here you are says the bearded man to Valthar, a ground-level room. Take a sit where it please you, I'll have one of my hands bring you a decent meal and some good ale.

A gnome wearing an apron taps Gungis on the elbow. Here's your food and room key, sir. I'll just be a minute with your goat milk. In his outstretched hand is a key on a string with a room number and a wooden bowl filled with a think, hearty stew.

The inn is crowded with people of all races, eating and drinking merrily. Smoke hangs heavy in the air, and the shadows on the walls leap about from the many lights cast from candles, lamps, and a large, roaring fireplace situated in the middle of the far wall. The seating consists mostly of benches placed at long plank tables, all covered in a collage of graffiti carved into the wooden surfaces and then finished off with a sticky film of food residue and stale beer. There is a knife-throwing competition taking place at one end of the room where there is a target hanging on the wall, while at the opposite side a laughing crowd has gathered around a bard accompanying his funny tale with the strumming of a lute.

The front door slams open and a towering figure enters the inn. The savage-looking half-orc is tall and well built; he has to stoop and turn his body slightly in order to sqeeze through the door frame. He is wearing only an orcish kilt held up with a leather belt and a roughly-made hide vest that is so humourously tiny that it seems to function solely as a technicality rather than an actual item of clothing. His exposed grey-green skin is covered in scars of varying sizes, and his four-foot long mass of dark, tangled hair has been plastered to his back by the rain.

He scans the room for a moment. A couple surprised guests stare uncomfortably back, but most continue about their business without so much as looking up.

The newcomer reaches with his oversized hands into a leather pouch on his belt and awkwardly deposits a gold coin on the bar.

Sleeping place. And food. And drink, he shouts above the ruckus of the tavern. Uh... please.

The hulking half-orc, room key in hand, then shuffles his way over to the fireplace and stands barefoot in the accumulation of mud and muck on the floor, letting the heat of the roaring flames slowly dry him off as he drips unwittingly all over the boots placed next to the fire by other travelers.

[!rorak]

Right sorry she's NE, don't mean to spoil it for anyone.

Lyn walked in furious as a scalded cat. The arrogance of those petty fools! The tower hadn't even been that pretty anyway.

Oh, well. At least alcohol was as readily available outside the university as in.

Lyn slapped the coin down on the table. "Barkeeper! I'll need a place to sleep, some food, and something to wash it all down. As much of your best spirit as I can buy."

This was actually relatively polite, for Lyn. She'd learned early on that it didn't pay to offend people who could potentially spit in your drinks without you knowing it. Revenge got less entertaining the more necessary it was.

Lyn sat down and waited for someone to hit on her. She'd memorized Acid Splash just that morning for practically this exact purpose.

[Aeti]

Pocketing the key, Valthar scans the room for a quiet table, and settles on one with a single, nervous looking elf beside a window.
Weather's rough out there, isn't it lad? he says jovially. Mind you, I don't have a lot of knowledge about weather, we didn't have much of that underground, hah hah! I'm sure it'll die soon, though. Everything does. He pauses, realizing that a conversation requires two. The name be Valthar, lad, and yourself?

[jm_jazzman]

Right away, young miss, replies the inn keeper, handing Lyn a key as a bowl of stew is placed in front of her by a passing server. How about a goblet of our finest cherry wine?

The gnome leaves Gungis' dinner and key on the table in front of him and dashes off, returning moments later with a mug of warm goat's milk and a bowl of stew and a pint of dwarven ale for Valthar.

[thisnamedoesntf]

With a mighty crash the door slams open, quickly followed by a ball of very wet, very annoyed dwarf. Hurg, about time I got out of that forsaken rain! Shaking his head to clear the water from his brow, Bartimolph stomps his way over to the innkeeper, pausing only long enough to press some coin into his hand before making a beeline for the bar. Gimme some ale, and gimme it quick!

[Doctor Bloo]

Gungis looks out of the window at the storm.

My name is Gungis.

Gungis sniffs at the stew. The smell is quite enticing, made even more so by the rumbling pit in his stomach.

Can he tell what kind of meat is in the stew?

Weather comes and weather goes. Sometimes it is brief and sometimes it lingers.

Gungis turns his attention back to the stew. He takes a bite, quite pleased with his first conversation. The weather indeed.

His seat made him feel less uncomfortably crowded. He looked over this... Dwarf?.. Who had taken a seat across from him. His proximity was making him uncomfortable, and he shifted his posture just a little bit.

Valthar... You are a Dwarf, yes? You are taller than the tales I have heard make you out to be.

[Aeti]

Valthar still has a smile on his face, but the warmth seems gone from it. His left hand tightens briefly on his flagon before relaxing. Height is a.. touchy subject for dwarves, elf. You should watch what your tongue lets loose, before someone looses your tongue.

The cleric takes a spoonful of stew, and grimaces before splashing some of his ale into it.

What brings a young elf like you away from his safe village? Valthar says around a mouthful of alcoholic stew.

[jm_jazzman]

Bartimolph is quickly served a pint of dwarven ale, a bowl of stew, and a room key.

the meat in the stew is beef

[Doctor Bloo]

Gungis is taken aback by the dwarf's sudden hostility.

I meant no insult. I have never met a Dwarf before.

He continues to eat the stew. The meat is strange, something he has never tasted before. He finishes his bowl before continuing.

I have never been in a village either. A day of firsts I suppose.

Gungis looks around the room. How strange this is, he thinks. He abruptly leaves the table and makes his way up to his room, cutting the conversation with Valthar short. He deposits his javelins and spear in his room, then makes his way back to the table.

[jm_jazzman]

The apron-wearing gnome approaches the half-orc drying himself by the fire and offers him a bowl of stew and a mug of ale. The oversized fighter turns to accept these delicious items, but finds himself tripping over the boots littering the floor near the fireplace. Struggling to maintain his balance, he spins around wildly and slams himself down in a sitting position next to Gungis at the corner table. The bench groans under the added weight, and drops of water are flung about from the soaking wet half-orc's body.

Oh, hi.

His face is covered in old wounds, but most prominent is a large scar running from the outside of his left eye towards his intact ear (the other one is missing a chunk near the bottom.

He takes the bowl of stew in one hand from the startled gnome and pours it down his throat in a single go, then chases it just as quickly with the ale.

Vlog is my name. Vlog Skullcrusher.

Vlog beltches with the force of a terrible, smelly storm.

Who are you? He smiles, revealing a mouth full of missing and broken teeth.

[Aeti]

The eyebrow raised at Gungis' abrupt departure and return reaches unprecedented heights at this avalanche of half-orc meeting the table.

I be Valthar. My drinking companion here be Gungis. An interesting name; Skullcrusher. The cleric strokes his beard and smirks. "The people who gave that to you must not have appreciated having their skulls crushed," he says, gesturing at the freshest scar with his flagon.

[!rorak]

"Of course I don't want wine you mountain-shaped pile of--" Lyn's brain abruptly caught up with her tongue, and she shut her mouth for a moment before trying a different, less familiar tune. How did these lowlives speak again? "My apologies, good sir. It has been a long and taxing day of travel for me. I merely wonder if you have something a little stronger? Some rum, perhaps, or whiskey?" She tried a smile, and found it felt like nails drawn across one of High Archon Spenwhister's chalkboards.

OOC I'm putting my in-character rambles in spoilers again, like last campaign. No need to force you guys to read it all.

IC Lyn had realized something else on the journey, other than the utter inadequacy of those at the University. Regardless of all of her talent, she would need allies. At least at first. Wandering wizards could always be surprised by thugs, or overpowered and slaughtered by stronger wizards. To survive until she had learned enough to take on other wizards and, maybe, the University council itself, she'd need meat shields.

No, wait. That wasn't the right term. What was the one normals used again?

Oh, right. Friends. She'd need friends. Preferably ones with enough muscle to be of use and not enough brain to be a threat.

Lyn cast her gaze about the room, mentally indexing those around her. Eventually it settled on a table of what appeared to be travelers like herself. Ample muscle and apparent skill in arms, as far as she could tell. Better yet, their average IQ was certainly lower than hers, although it was possible that was entirely the fault of that hulking slackjawed halforc lummox.



Lyn made her way over to the table. "Why hello there!" she trilled, with a smile made of glass. "Would this seat be taken?"

[jm_jazzman]

Vlog replies to Valthar,
Actually, I think that guy only had his legs broken, he pauses for a moment. I was in a hurry.

Interrupted by Lyn, Vlog looks up (or more like over, since while seated he is about at eye level with her) and smiles a big, dopey smile in serious need of some dental attention.

This seat can be taken by you if you want.

The gnome brings Lyn a small cup of wiskey.

[!rorak]

[spoiler]Ugh. Imbecilic creature. Was this what life on the outside world was destined to be like? Would she be spending the next several years buried neck-deep in a morass of vapid stupidity?

Not to mention the noticably small sampling of whiskey that appeared to qualify as a full draught.
[\spoiler]

"Why thank you," said Lyn, now maybe a little icily.

[jm_jazzman]

The doors of the inn burst open once more and a hooded figure in a grey cloak hurriedly enters from the rainy night. Without pausing for even a moment, he heads to the bar and places himself right next to Bartimolph. He looks him once over, and then speaks.

You will do. Come with me.

The stranger turns around and walks over to the corner table, seating himself. His hood obscures his features, and his intermediate height makes it difficult to tell what race he might be.

Without even checking to see if Bartimolph has followed him, he speaks to the group.

You may call me Let-Za. I have little time, so I will speak plainly. I am in need of adventurers to undertake a grand mission, one that is of the greatest importance. It will take you far from home and place you in great danger, but you will see and learn things that are beyond the wildest dreams of even the most travelled adventurers in the common lands. Your deeds will become the legends of the next ten thousand years, and, most importantly, you will save the world.

Why do I ask you, of all people? Because I can see in your eyes that you have much to prove, to others and to yourselves. It is this fire in your souls that makes me believe I can trust you with this most crucial of all tasks, and makes me know already that you will accept.

[!rorak]

The man was utterly fascinating. Lyn had never seen someone so obvioiusly drug-addled, yet so coherent at the same time. She wondered what had done it.


"Get away from our table, you bloody vagrant," spits Lyn. "Can't you see the seats are all taken?"

[Aeti]

Valthar gives a slanted look at the impetuous lass as he considers.

The entire world be in danger? The death of everything would be.. exhilarating. But against Nerull's will. Valthar nods. I'm listening. What be required of us?

[jm_jazzman]

From his robe, Let-Za draws a small, shallow dish engraved with strange symbols and a vial of what appears to be black ink. He unscrews the metal cap off the vial and pours a little into the dish, which he places in the palm of his outstretched hand, as if offering it to the group.

He glances quickly out the window before returning his attention to the others at the table.

You will be required to leave here at once, and travel to the land of Yuzmii. There, you will help me to complete a mission that has been safeguarded by my secret order for countless generations.

He lowers his hand, but the dish remains suspended in the air. Bubbles form in the liquid, and it begins to churn and leap as if it is boiling.

Place a finger each in the ink. There is too much to tell... I must show you instead.

Yuzmii is a place you may have heard if in legends or stories, or sometimes used as a default name when naming the furthest-away location imaginable. None of you have ever stopped to consider that it might actually be a real place. Needless to say, if it is real, it is more distant than any other location imaginable.

[Aeti]

Having come this far, Valthar confidently dips his finger into the dark liquid.

[Doctor Bloo]

Gungis follows Valthar's example, dipping his finger into the liquid.

[thisnamedoesntf]

Bartimolph, having already finished his fifth drink and lacking the coin necessary to gamble, decides that this nutjob is probably going to be the best entertainment available for the evening. With an encouraging smile to the stranger, he thrusts his grubby dwarven finger into the dish.

[!rorak]

Lyn stared at the little dish disbelievingly.


Knowledge Arcana check, people. d20



At the sight of the liquid, and the incredible name-dropping of Yuzmii, Lyn changed her mind. She had never found herself so coherent, yet so drug-addled.

Maybe everything since that last party was a dream. Tempting. But on the other hand, this did all seem quite real.

Lyn was forced to come to the unpleasant conclusion that she had been wrong. She wondered whether this was lesson in her own fallibility was something her teachers meant her to have while on her way back into the school.



Hesitantly at first, Lyn dipped a finger into the liquid.

[!rorak]

It was a 13, sorry. And +4 Arcana gives at 17 result

[jm_jazzman]

Lyn:
You do not know what Let-Za is doing, or what properties this dish of ink may hold. All you can think of are stories telling of the strange brand of magic practiced in such foreign lands as Yuzmii; a magic that is so strange that it must only be the stuff of fairy tales.

OOC: next time, please just re-roll when that happens.

Vlog places a grubby finger in the dish.

All:
As soon as your finger touches the liquid, the busy scene of the inn begins to melt away from all around you, and the sound becomes muffled and distant.

You are in a far-away land, so many years ago that you don't know how to count them. The trees are strange, the animals unrecognizable, and the people are quaint. The gods are young, and good battles evil and law battles chaos as has always been an always will be.

You are in a village. There is a child here. In what seems like no time at all, you watch him grow up. You see him become strong, learn, and discover magic. He becomes a great adventurer, and then a great sorcerer. His powers become unmatched, but you see that greed is now compelling him. He wants more, he wants it all. He falls upon the path of evil and unleashes unholy wrath upon all who oppose him as he gradually conquers the world. He gradually becomes less and less a man and more like a demon, or even a god. Those who he defeats, he transforms into eternal servants, cursed to carry out his vile wishes forever and to never die. His childhood name is long forgotten; now, he is Abek.

A hero is born, and her name is Thass. She fights to free the world from Abek's rule, and she grows extremely powerful. In time, she is a power to match the dark tyrant. For years, the two do battle, neither one ever gaining the upper hand.

After generations of endless battle, Thass finally defeats Abek. She has the chance to destroy him for good, but he makes an offer that cannot be refused: spare his life and imprison him for one million years, and his army will vanish. Thass knows that trying to wipe out Abek's evil forces after he is dead would be just as hard (if not harder) than defeating Abek himself. Thass agrees to the deal, for she is too eager to rid the world of all the suffering he has caused.

Little does she know that her victory over Abek was no result of chance or feat of ability. He had allowed his own defeat to facilitate the deal, for he planned to exploit a detail in the contract that would help him secure his dominion over the world once and for all. The deal states that if either party fails to uphold any part of their side of the agreement, the whole thing was void. The clause that Abek had in mind was the length of his sentence, and his release after his time had been served. While Thass assumed that the horrors of the dark tyrant's rule would never be forgotten and that the people of the world would be waiting to release a powerless Abek when the time came, Abek's gamble was that the short-lived, self-absorbed people of the world would let his rule fade from memory. They would forget to release him on time in one million years, and so the contract would broken and he would find himself free again regardless, and with his entire unholy army once again at his disposal to quickly enslave an undefended and unsuspecting world.

You find yourself, along with the others from the table at the inn, in a place that doesn't really seem to be a place so much as the idea of a place. You are all sitting around something that represents a table. Nothing else exists here, not even distance beyond your immediate space.

Let-Za speaks, his voice seeming to come from all around you just as much as it is coming from his mouth.

Do not be alarmed. You are still in the inn, but what takes place here will pass only as an instant there.

Now you see what is at stake, and what must be done. My brotherhood, the Order of the Falling Leaf, was established by Thass to release Abek at the end of his sentence, but in the countless years since we have become few in numbers, our purpose forgotten. I am one of the last of my kind, and I have been hunted for years by followers of Abek who are now too close for me to be certain of my ability to succeed in this mission. They have chased me to this far corner of the world, and now it is up to you pick up where I fear I must leave off.

An old, bound book with a worn leather cover appears on the shade-table.

This book contains the key for releasing Abek. It is what his followers are after. Do not, under any circumstances, allow it to fall out of your hands. It is your duty to deliver it to the Black Mountain in Yuzmii where Abek is imprisoned, for you are now the last of the Order of the Falling Leaf.

The inn fades back into your surroundings. The book remains on the wooden table, while the dish of ink is now back in Let-Za's outstretched hand.

Through the window, you can see the orange flickering of lanterns or torches.

Now, you must go. Those who seek to thwart our mission are here sooner than I anticipated. They cannot know that we have been speaking. I will change my disguise again and try to lead them away from you to the west. Good luck. And hide the book!

Let-Za leaves the table and vanishes out the back of the inn without looking back.

[!rorak]

Lyn quickly stuffs the important, possibly magic-related book into her cloak.

[Aeti]

Valthar's eyes narrow in anger. This black sorcerer has lived for a million years? This goes against all that is natural! To give some semblance of life by animating the body be well and good, but to keep the soul intact and bound when it should have departed for God's realm?

Valthar stands. I believe his story. His advice be sound, we should leave immediately for these Black Mountains.

[!rorak]

Lyn furtively skims through the tome, looking for anything resembling a spell or a lecture related to magic. "You do realize," she said, "that this is either the most unlikely thing that has ever happened to all of us, or the dumbest attempt at a trap I've ever heard of. Have you given thought to whether he intends to just lure us somewhere for some cult to sacrifice us, or something equally treacherous?"

[roll0] for knowledge arcana when reading the tome.+4 bonus.

[jm_jazzman]

Unlocking the clasp holding the aged book closed, Lyn finds that the brittle, yellow pages all seem to be blank.

At that moment, the door of the inn slams open once more, and three armoured men with concealed faces enter. Still holding their lanterns from outside, they begin moving about the room. They each grab people seemly at random, inspect their faces closely, and then move on to another unsuspecting patron.

The inn keeper yells at them uselessly as they make their way through the crowd. They are still at the far side of the room... for the moment.

[!rorak]

Lyn sighs. "Or not," she mutters. "Inventory, people. What've we got? I can blast a couple spells at them, but we're either going to have to take them all on at once, along with whoever else is outside the inn, or get out of here somehow."

"I can lift something around 5 stone without having to touch it, using magic. I'm thinking--if we made it look like one of the other patrons threw something at one of the guards, we could distract them long enough to slip out the back entrance. Maybe we could even start a riot."

[Aeti]

That sounds like a plan. Give me a second, I ha' business to attend to.

Valthar calmly walks up to the bar, and hands back his room key. I am sorry for tha trouble, but I will not be using my room. Instead, I would like to use that gold piece on a bottle of spirit.

[jm_jazzman]

Vlog replies to Lyn:
I have Smashy and Bashy, he says, holding up each fist in turn.

---------------------------------------

The bearded barkeeper is still rather distracted by the intruders.

Hey! I said quit harrasin' my patrons! By Pelor's flaming mace, if you don't leave here at once, I'll set the militia on you!

He turns his attention to Valthar.

Oh no, I'm terribly sorry about all this. We never have trouble. Here, take this, he doesn't take the room key, but reaches under the bar and passes Valthar a large bottle filled with dark liquid, it's our local port, very popular.

Map:http://growingyourice.webs.com/game/current%20map.png
http://growingyourice.webs.com/game/current%20map.png

[Aeti]

Valthor thanks the innkeeper and walks back to the table, hurriedly stowing the port within the spare robe he keeps in his backpack.

[!rorak]

So, no swords? This guy is less violence-prone than I thought. Or just dumber than I thought.

Lyn frowned at Valthar. "What," she asks, when Valthar returns to the table, "was that all about?"

"Anyway, if you lot are finally ready, I'll hurl one of those mugs of beer off the barman's table so that it hits the nearest guard. The way he's been bitching at them, they should believe he's showing resistance."

Jazz, where's that back entrance you mentioned Let-Za used?

[Aeti]

Valthar eyes the window, seeing if it is possible to unlatch or otherwise open it.

[jm_jazzman]

The window was not designed to be opened. However, the framed pane of wavy glass does appear to be a rather loose fit in the wall, and can easily be jiggled by hand.

The three thugs continue harassing the crowd, slowly moving closer to your table.

[Aeti]

I do nay like our chances a' trying ta get past those guards, even while they're distracted by our diversion. Why do we nay cause the diversion, then escape out this window?

[thisnamedoesntf]

Bartimolph eyes the exits, judging how long it would take to reach them. Methinks the group of us leaping through a window would be a mite conspicuous. He turns to Lyn. Do yer mug flingin', missy. Mayhap it'll raise enough of a ruckus that the city militia will be alerted.

[jm_jazzman]

Bartimolph estimates it would take about 10 seconds to reach the front door at a brisk walk, and about 15 or 20 depending on the crowd to reach either the kitchen or the back door to the rooms.

The three thugs converge around an unfortunate half-elf in the middle of the room. He yelps helplessly as they tug at his face and throw a handful of powder on his head. Then, one of them barks something in a strange tongue and they fan out among the crowd again. More people have taken notice of the intrusion now, but about half the tavern is still too busy or too drunk to pay any heed. The knife-throwing game continues, and the bard's crowd keeps on laughing.

[!rorak]

Lyn concentrates, and with care, tries to send one of the knives spinning towards one of the guards.

What do I need to roll, then?

[jm_jazzman]

The knives are just out of Lyn's reach, but she is perfectly able to lift an unattended beer mug from across the room and send it flying into the head of one of the goons. The masked man shouts angrily in his strange language and charges in the direction of the mug's origin, with the other two following close behind him.

OOC: If you need to check any rules before posting next time, http://www.d20srd.org will make things move along much more smoothly.

[Aeti]

Valthar hurriedly gets up and starts for the door.

[!rorak]

Lyn can't help but laugh at the expression of the hapless bar patrons the guards are bearing down on. "Wonderful! Looks like it's time to leave."

[!rorak]

Lyn follows Valthar.

[Doctor Bloo]

Gungis gets up from the table.

Well, if we are all in this together than I suppose I will meet you outside the back of the tavern. I just need to go collect the things in my room.

Gungis heads to his room.

[jm_jazzman]

Gungis slips over to his room unnoticed, depositing the key on the inn keeper's desk along the way. The rest of the group files out the front door and back into the dark and the rain.

Once again soaking wet, the party meets up behind the back of the inn. Vlog stands with his mouth wide open, drinking the precipitation.

There is a stable back here, as well as an outhouse. Beyond the short stone wall marking the boundary of the yard, the shapes of other buildings in the town can be made out.

[!rorak]

"We'd better be going, and as fast as we can," says Lyn. She eyes the stable, checking to see if there are any horses inside.

[jm_jazzman]

From outside, Lyn can tell that there are certainly horses in the stable, although the exact number can't be known without going inside. There is also a flickering of light inside and smoke floating out a small chimney.

[!rorak]

Lyn quickly dashes inside and checks the number of horses.

[jm_jazzman]

Pushing open the heavy wooden doors, Lyn steps inside and counts 12 horses in the stalls. Immediately to her right, the door to the stablemaster's room sits open by a few inches. A voice calls from inside over the crackling of the fire in there and the pounding of the rain on the roof: Eh, Donnin? S'that you?

[!rorak]

Lyn eyes the door, assessing whether it can be locked or barred from the outside so that the man inside is unable to open it.

[Aeti]

Valthar hurries in after Lyn. Saddle the horses. I will deal with the stableman. He turns from her before she can argue, and enters the stableman's room.
If I can't deal with a level 1 commoner alone, I'm going to be very upset with myself. God I hope he's not a retired fighter who has taken up stablery.

[jm_jazzman]

Inside the cozy room, the stableman sits on a cot whittling the top of a staff into what might be a bear's head. He is a tall half-elf with short-cut hair and a face worn from age. His tools and clothes hang from hooks on the walls.

Oh, h'llo there. You have a horse that needs attendin'?

[Aeti]

BLUFF: [roll0]
Oi, what be wrong with yer hand? I be a cleric, let me see!

[!rorak]

Saddle the horses? Lyn had never heard anything so ridiculous in her life. What, did he mistake me for that low-born elf out there?

It didn't help, of course, that she knew absolutely nothing about horses. Lyn knew magic, and perhaps a skein of aristocratic intrigue. Horses, nothing. She'd just been planning to check whether the stable was occupied, and then get someone else to do it.

Oh, well. Back to Plan A then.

Lyn steps outside the stable. "You! Help me saddle these horses," she says to Vlog, not loud enough for the stableman to hear.

I bet he knows everything about stables. I bet he was even born in one. The other half of that hideous fellow certainly can't be human, I know that.

[jm_jazzman]

The stablemaster looks confused, glancing down at his hand to make sure he wasn't missing some important piece of information.

Hmm? What're you speakin' about? And what are you doing in here?

-------------------------

Saddle yer own damn horse, Vlog growls as he walks past Lyn, refusing to even look at her. He enters the stable, finds the biggest and strongest horse there, goes into the stall, and struggles on to the animal bare-back.

[!rorak]

Lyn sighed to herself. Figures. Where'd he get such an attitude, anyway?

What is it, a Survival check to saddle the horse? Maybe Dex?
[roll0]

I'm guessing this is going to be a check on how Lyn deals with the rest of the ride? Tell me what modifiers to add after the roll.

[Aeti]

I. Uh. Valthar changes tack. Tha innkeeper sent me wit' a present for doin' such a good job wit' tha horses, he says as he rummages through his pack, withdrawing the port.
Oops. I suppose I have to roll for this. And pretty sure that's a +5 bonus because he wants to believe that the wine is for him? I'll let you include that. My roll is...
Bluff:1d20+1

[Aeti]

Bluff:[roll0]
Turns out you can't edit a die roll in!

[jm_jazzman]

Lyn gets on a horse.
http://www.d20srd.org/srd/skills/ride.htm

-----------------------

The stablemaster looks at Valthar with the exact same look he would give to a crazy man who had suddenly burst into his room in the middle of the night offering to heal imaginary wounds and give him a bottle of his own brother's wine. Yeah, that look. Then, a flash of realization lights up his face, and he leaps up with his staff held firmly in both hands. The horses? You leave 'em alone you scum!

sometimes, NPCs roll 20s too.

[Aeti]

Valthar draws his spear with a grimace, and his scarred hand reaches to grab the stableman.
Melee Touch Attack:[roll0]

[jm_jazzman]

The stableman steps back, avoiding Valthar's grasp. Grunting, he whacks Valthar in the shoulder with his staff.

take 1 point of damage

[thisnamedoesntf]

Bartimolph eyes the horses uneasily, and finally moves to the smallest one he can find. I dun't like the idea of stealing a horse, but I suppose we're in a bit o' a hurry he mutters to himself. Perhaps I can return and offer payment later . He picks up a saddle and attempts to sort out the many, many straps hanging off of it. Despite his best efforts however the ties end up more and more resembling a knot than part of a saddle. Giving up and throwing the whole thing to the ground in irritation, he scrambles awkwardly up onto the horse and sits there looking very uneasy.

He begins alternating between grumbling loudly about riding being unnatural and berating his companions to speed up.

[Aeti]

Ignoring the wound, Valthar tries to grab him again.
Melee Touch Attack:[roll0]

[jm_jazzman]

Still managing to avoid Valthar in the confined space of the room, the stablemaster takes another swing at him. This time, however, Valthar is able to duck cleanly out of the way, causing his opponent to strike the wall instead.

OOC: Fail combat is fail
-------------------

Realizing that the others are not yet ready to leave, Vlog slides off his horse and quickly affixes a saddle. Noting the dwarf's discomfort, he picks up the tangled one Bartimolph had discarded and holds it up to his mount. I can put this on your horse... you might want it if you dun ride much before.

[Aeti]

Tsok! Valthar swears, as he once again tries to grab his elusive foe.
Melee Touch Attack:[roll0]

[Aeti]

A black glow surrounds them as the prepared energy of Cause Fear dissipates from the dark cleric's mind and is used to harm.
Inflict Lesser Wounds: [roll0]
Will save for half, DC 14

[Aeti]

Sorry! I looked it up and it's 1d8, not 1d6. Also I got the name wrong too, that's why I was looking it up in the first place. DC is still 14 though.
Inflict Light Wounds:[roll0]

[jm_jazzman]

With a gasp, the stableman drops to the floor, dead.

OOC: thanks for doing the research and posting all the details for me, much appreciated.

Also, I totally thought editing a post voided any dice rolls in it. I guess not.

One more thing, can everyone roll damage when they make an attack roll? It'll make things go way faster when you hit.

[Aeti]

Valthar makes the sign of the sickle in midair over the body. When we be called, we answer. Go to tha embrace of Nerull.

Stepping over it, he withdraws a burning log from the crackling fire.
wrapping it with anything dry and flammable to create a torch if possible as he quickly surveys the room for items to take with him.

[Doctor Bloo]

Gungis steps out of the inn door and into the rain, and hears a commotion from the stables.

Walking through the stable door, he sees Vlog getting on a horse.

Good idea.

Gungis walks to the nearest unattended horse, saddles it, and gets on.

[roll0]

[jm_jazzman]

Valthar tears a piece of fabric from one of the lighter sheets on the cot to make a torch.

On the walls there are hammers, brushes, bags of nails, horse shoes, a heavy winter coat, a pair of work pants, a decorative wood chip carving, and a number of other less notable or unrecognizable items. On the floor are a fair of leather boots, a knife, a quarterstaff, and a body.

Vlog gets back on his horse, now a little more stable than before.
Which way are we heading?

If Bartimolph agrees to let Vlog affix the saddle first, then we'll just retro that detail in.

Also, uneventful riding doesn't require a check. You only need to roll that for special moves/stunts/particularly difficult conditions.

Edit: it has been determined that Gungis' mounting of his horse was particularly badass, so his roll was totally used for that.

[Aeti]

Valthar stuffs both the smallest and largest of hammers, the heavy winter coat, and the decorative wood carving into his pack. The knife goes at his belt. He opens the door and rejoins the party, shutting the door behind him. We ready to go? I confess I do nay know much about saddling horses, if someone could help me quickly that would be great.

[Doctor Bloo]

Valthar, get behind me. There is no time to saddle another horse.

Gungis holds his hand out to help Valthar into the saddle behind him.

[Aeti]

Valthar ignores the elf's kind offer of aid, and moves to saddle his horse on his own.
Boy, tha horse won't last as long as tha others wit' two on its back, und we need ta move quickly. I'd take all of these for remounts if I didn't want to attract more attention. And they'll be more of a distraction back here, he says silently to himself whilst saddling the horse.

Finished, Valthar makes shooing motions with his hands at the mass gathered between him and the door. Guess I be last out. Lets ride!

[Doctor Bloo]

Gungis shrugs and rides out of the stables. He looks down the street, trying to find the fastest, most discreet exit from the town.

[jm_jazzman]

The road leading east looks the darkest, and there is no wall on that side of town due to the protection provided by the river. Otherwise, there might also be a sneaky way out to the south, but that would most likely require getting through a guarded gate.

[!rorak]

Lyn tries to assess what's happening in the inn.



Listen check: [roll0]

[jm_jazzman]

Lyn can hear that the ruckus inside has shifted from jovial shouting to something of a much angrier tone. Then, a woman screams, and it sounds as if a fight has broken out.

[!rorak]

"Last I heard," said Lyn, "the guards at the bar were getting a little...excitable. We might not have a lot of time. And I don't like the idea of being spotted by anybody on the way out. Ideas?"

[Doctor Bloo]

Let us go south. Once we are out of the town we can determine the fastest way of getting to... wherever it is we are going.

Gungis heads down the road southwards.

OOC: Why the hell do we have to sneak through a guarded gate? We haven't done anything wrong...

[Aeti]

As everyone files out, the grey robed dwarf tosses the flaming torch down into the straw before shutting the stable's door. None a' them thought ta ask why a dwarf needed a light source, he thinks grimly. It's too bad about tha rain, the whole stable might na' go up.
Reining his horse clumsily, he joins the rest of the party in time to hear the elf's suggestion. Nodding agreement, he follows.

[jm_jazzman]

The muddy streets are abandoned as the party moves south through the town. The only signs of life are the a pub, another inn, and a few odd houses with light flickering from inside.

Reaching the south gate, the guard hears the sound of your approaching horses and reluctantly leaves the shelter of his post to let you out of the city. Mind yourselves if you're heading past the tip of Silver Lake, he says, the travelers lately have been talking about bandits there who rob everyone heading between here and Castle Island. They even killed someone from the last party that came through here! Damned criminals is what they are, and practically right on the King's doorstep of all places! I'm amazed the royal guard hasn't been sent to deal with them. If you want my advice, it might be worth it to take a few extra days to go around the far side of the lake to avoid them. As he speaks, he unlocks the tall wooden gate doors and hauls them open.

The road ahead winds south through the gentle hills. Just to the east, the banks of the Freidwater can be made out. If one were to follow it, as this part of the road seems to do, it would eventually lead to Castle Island, the mighty walled city that serves as King of Freidland's seat of power. Further downstream where the river meets the sea lies Dockwood, a massively sprawling port city famous for its exotic goods, eccentric characters, and its reputation for being the most wretched hive of scum and villainy in the known world. On the other side of the river from where you now stand, one could find the trade road that passes east through vast expanses of wilderness to reach the great dwarven city of Boltmurder. To the southwest, the peak of Mount Halycon could be visible on a clear day, a few days' march away. A few weeks further in that direction would take one to Lyn's home city of L'Arcune in the kingdom of Iyllys.

Just then, a loud bell can be heard ringing from back in town.
What in crea... OH MY GOODNESS!
Smoke and flames can be seen coming form near the inn.

OOC: I didn't say that you had to sneak by the guard... Gungis was trying to find "most discreet exit" from the town. I just thought that mentioning the likeliness of a guard would be useful if he had some some plan for leaving town unseen for some reason, since that that could have been implied by his thinking.

[!rorak]

"Well, it's been wonderful meeting you," says Lyn, and rides out of the town.

[Aeti]

Valthar reins up in front of the guard. Tha' fire looks like it's from near tha' Meeting Street Inn. Before we left, there was three toughs making trouble. It migh' be related. Valthar gives a description of the three to the best of his ability while watching Lyn ride away out of the corner of his eye. Once finished, he bids the man well and hurries after her.

[!rorak]

Lyn nods with newfound respect as Valthar catches up to her. "Give those goons something to mess with. Good plan." She chuckles softly at the sight of the guardhouse, swiftly diminishing into the distance. "I imagine it won't take them very long to turn the lot of them into mincemeat, of course. Do you think they'll burn the town down?"

There's no particular desire or fear in her tone, just curiosity.

[Aeti]

I don't think they'll burn the town down, says Valthar carefully.

[!rorak]

Sense motive [roll0]

[Aeti]

Valthar's words are as clear as the rain swept night.
If you wanted to DM that, sorry Jazz. But it didn't look like anything was happening.

[jm_jazzman]

Vlog catches up to Valthar and Lyn.

So where are we going?

OOC: No worries, I left it to you to sort out.

[Aeti]

Valthar considers. Seems ta me we don't know where we're going, I'd never even considered tha' Yuzmii be real. We need more information. Tha means a grand library, or finding me a body from a million years ago.

[!rorak]

"Yuzmii is ancient," says Lyn. "What are the odds that any library has knowledge that goes back hundreds of millennia?"

OOC: What ARE the odds? Knowledge check, +2 Int, +1 circumstance bonus for Lyn since she's from one of the biggest wizarding schools in the world? She has to have some academic knowledge under her belt.

[roll0]

If Lyn is sure she's seen libraries with histories that good:
"We should try the <<blank library>>. It might have what we need."

If Lyn is uncertain:
"Let-Za said he was one of the last. Although Yuzmii is long dead, that Order of the Falling Leaf isn't. Maybe we should find some others of his kind."

Or maybe,Lyn thinks grimly, those idiots don't know either. Let-Za wasn't exactly forthcoming about that knowledge.

[jm_jazzman]

Lyn is quite sure that she has seen some mention of Yuzmian magic in one or two dusty old volumes in the library of the academy back in L'Arcune, although the focus of those writings was definitely on arcana and not geography, so their usefulness is questionable.

She also knows that royal archives in Castle Island hold some of the rarest and most ancient books and documents in the known lands. All sorts of information about Yuzmii would be found there. However, the collection is not open to the public.

Another possibility, less favourable perhaps to Lyn but still on her mind as much as anyone else's in the party, is that some of the sea merchants in Dockwood may know of the location of Yuzmii from their travels. After all, Let-Za sounded like the place still exists... it may well be more a matter of distance than time that so little is known about it to you.

[!rorak]

"Castle Island might be our best bet," Lyn says. "I've seen mention of Yuzmian magic before in lesser libraries, so there's probably a good chance the royal archives could mention Yuzmii somewhere."

[Aeti]

As they ride in silence, Valthar examines his horse.
What colour is it? Gender?

[jm_jazzman]

The horse is a male, mostly white with some large brown patches. It seems fit and healthy.

OOC: I'm just waiting for input from the rest of you before fast-forwarding to the next interesting event... Are you all just going along with what Lyn says, or does anyone want to push for a different destination / route? I just can't really do anything at this point without potentially railroading some of you unless I know

[Aeti]

Valthar rides along the path, his horses hooves crunching as they carefully step through the rain. I be glad to be out of that excitement, he thinks to himself.
AETI, however, is NOT glad to be bored out of his mind! Frickin' post! Railroad away, Jazz!

[jm_jazzman]

OOC: Weird, I actually posted the other night (or so I thought) but there is no evidence of this.

But yeah, I'm going to fast-forward a bit here and make some survival rolls and such for you guys just to get to the adventurey part sooner.

Over the next several days, the party makes their way south along the road, sleeping by night and traveling by day. The rain gives up, but the sky remains grey and cold. Without proper provisions, the party is forced to survive on minimal rations and whatever the more skilled hunters can find or catch.

Tired and hungry, the group arrives at another decision. The edge of Silver Lake can be seen not too far off in the distance, and a small tail of smoke can be seen rising from somewhere further down the road to the east of the body of water.

I am considering putting a time limit on group decisions like this... maybe 48 hours? Thoughts?

[Aeti]

Is tha.. is tha water I see? There nay be so much to see underground.. Valthar looks awestruck at the amount he can see. I did never dream an ocean could be so big!
48 hours seems a fine idea, to prevent things like the week long drought we had going on.

[jm_jazzman]

It's big, but this one we could go around if we want, replies Vlog the real oceans go on forever, I think. Maybe we'll see one on the way to Yuzmii.

He pauses for a moment, surveying the horizon.
What do you say? Take the long way 'round and risk starving, or the fast way and risk the bandits?

Sounds good. After 48 hours, the most popular choice so far will be put into action.

[Aeti]

These bandits be likely ta have stocks o' food. My vote is tha we take it from them, Valthar says absently, still staring at the water.

[!rorak]

After several days roughing it outside, a particular low Lyn had never imagined she'd sink to, the thought of taking out her frustrations on a bunch of strangers was particularly appealing. "I'm in. Let's go find something to turn to mincemeat, and eat whatever they've got."

[jm_jazzman]

The party continues riding down the dirt road that winds its way through the gentle hills and rock formations. A cool breeze blows. The air is quiet save for the thudding of hooves.*

The slanted column of smoke grows steadily nearer. Nearing the top of the final hill that has been hiding the view until now, you can see a scene of destruction. The remains of a three-wagon caravan and their cargo are burning at the base of a large natural rock formation. There are bodies and blood stains scattered about nearby.

An injured woman, covered in blood, crawls out from somewhere among the rocks, calling out weakly for help. It doesn't seem likely that she has seen you.*

[Aeti]

Mistrustfully, Valthar looks for signs of a trap.
Sense Motive: [roll0]

[jm_jazzman]

This whole scene seems rather suspicious to Valthar. He can't quite put his finger on it, but something certainly isn't right.

http://static.velvetcache.org/pages/2007/5/25/its-a-trap/tarp-30198.jpg


OOC: also, feel free to leave rolls like sense motive and search for the DM to roll secretly. For added suspense/mystery/secrecy!

[Aeti]

Summat seems wrong with tha' scene over there. It be very suspicious. I think it be a trap.

[!rorak]

OOC: Sense motive for Lyn. If successful, she stays silent and prepares spells. If failed, she insists they put the poor woman out of her misery and take her rations.

[jm_jazzman]

Lyn doesn't sense any danger here. The bandits are cleary long-gone with their loot, and this injured survivor poses no threat. She insists that the party put the poor woman out of her misery and take her rations.

[Aeti]

Valthar's opinion of Lyn is that she is a spoiled child who has never encountered real danger, or she would not be so quick to ignore his warning.

Go ahead lass. I'll keep an eye out up here.
Valthar looks for a spot from which he can watch without being seen.

[!rorak]

Lyn sizes up her target and concludes it would be more fun to deal with the woman at range. She fires a magic missile at the crying woman.

[roll0]

[jm_jazzman]

The woman cries out in surprise and pain as the bolt of magic energy strikes her. Aaaaaaaaaargh! Clesman, Shamalt, help me! she shouts to someone in amongst the mass of stones as she tries to scramble back there for cover.

Roll for initiative

[Aeti]

Seizing the initiative, Valthar casts a spell!
Summon Monster I: Fiendish Small Monstrous Scorpion.
HP: [roll0]
A dark swirl of light resolves into a small scorpion at his feet.
AC 14
Attack: +1 claw 1d3-1
Full Attack 2 +1 claws 1d3-1, -4 sting 1d3-1 plus poison.
Poison - DC 14 Fortitude, 1d2 Con damage.

[!rorak]

[roll0] for initiative.

[thisnamedoesntf]

Bartimolph is shocked by the sudden aggression. Oy now, puttin' 'er out o' 'er misery is one thing, but she don' look like she's dyin'! Save yer magic for whatever did this in the first place!

He then realises that rather than a directionless cry for help, the woman was calling to hidden accomplices. Scrambling off of his pony, he readies his pickaxe and small shield. Och', looks like ye' be right after all he says to Valthar.

I spend my turn dismounting, whenever that is

[!rorak]

Oh, right. She had to keep the nice-girl act up for her... friends.

Lyn had never had friends before. She'd always preferred syncophants--the only difference, as far as she had ever been able to tell, was that you had to reciprocate whatever help friends gave you and that you had to pretend to want their advice.

She'd never needed either of those things. But then, she'd always been in a position to have syncophants when she needed them. Unlike that bloodied sack of filth that was now trying to rob her, Lyn hadn't needed to win the trust of others in order to use them.

And then, blindingly, it came to her.

Friendship is how normal people use each other!

Of course! It explained so much! The cliques and social groups she'd noted with the distant airs of a research scientist noticing a phenomenon outside her field, the blind, stupid loyalty people beneath her seemed to be able to feel for one another... it was an act! It was the only reasonable explanation Lyn could think of.

And she wasn't about to be outdone by a bunch of rabble. She'd do it, too. She'd subvert, and exploit, and damage like the best of them. Starting now.

Hmm.... What Would Bandits Do?



"I'm sorry!" says Lyn. "I thought she was dying! And I'm so hungry..."
Bluff: [roll0] I'm pretty sure that's my charisma, anyway. Shouldn't be too hard a roll, when the bluff seems pretty plausible. It fits her previous statements, anyway.


"I can still get another shot at that one if she stays in range," says Lyn. "Can you see her friends yet?"

[!rorak]

Lyn hits the woman with another magic missile.

[roll0]

[jm_jazzman]

The second missile strikes with a blast of light and a slight sizzling noise. The woman crumples and is still. The shouting of several voices can be heard from somewhere amongst the rocks. Three men emerge, all with bows at the ready. They take aim and fire. While two of the shots fly wide, the third one strikes Gungis squarely in the torso.
take 4 points of damage

The magic scorpion finishes materializing at Valthar's feet.

Vlog dismounts from his horse and prepares to run at the bandits. Let's move in before they can fire too many more arrows!

End of first turn. Order is:
Valthar
Lyn
Bartimolph
Bandits 1-3
Vlog

we'll figure out what to do with Gungis if/when Dr Bloo shows up.

[Aeti]

Leaning precariously from his saddle, Valthar reaches close enough to the ground that his scorpion can be picked up. Clutching it loosely, he spurs his unnamed horse into a gallop towards the bandits.
I couldn't actually find where it says how far the bandits are from us. I know the distance to the woman is less or equal to 110 feet, since that's the range of Lyn's Magic Missle, and a horse at a run moves 200ft a round. If they're within 50 ft, then Valthar gets an attack. I might as well roll that, I guess.
POWER ATTACK +1 : [roll0] [roll1]
Arrak! Valthar barks in dwarven at his fiendish ally, as he releases his hold.
The scorpion attacks the closest bandit to Valthar!
Claw: [roll2] [roll3]

[!rorak]

Lyn fires an acid splash at the centre attacker.


1d3

[!rorak]

Gah stupid... computer... thing.
EDIT: I have been informed that this is technically impossible.
[roll0]

[!rorak]

"I can get them with an acid splash at close range," Lyn says. "That, or poke them in the eyes using my mind."

And it's not like I can do either of those things this far away. Lyn sighed to herself, frustrated, but pushed her horse into the closest she was willing to take to a gallop and fell in behind Vlog.

[jm_jazzman]

OOC: The bandits are about 100ft away. Sorry, should have mentioned this. My bad.

Also, I have no idea what Bartimolph is planning... let me know if he stays back or tags along and attacks.

Anyone who has charged/run full out can now attack for this third round of combat... though it would be nice if thisnamedoesntf would post first(and Dr Bloo, if he wants to keep playing)The party members charge at the bandits. More worried about his horse's safety than his own, Vlog runs full-out at the bandits on foot, his long, tangled hair flying behind him. He releases a terrifying war cry as he goes. The bandits unleash their arrows again, and one of them pierces Vlog's thigh. The half-orc then lets out an even more terrifying cry.

[Aeti]

Reaching the bandits, Valthar moves into a flanking position with his scorpion, and lashes out with his spear!
Attack: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1]

The scorpion makes a full attack!
Claw: [roll2][roll3]
Claw: [roll4][roll5]
Sting: [roll6][roll7]

Poison is DC 14 Fortitude, 1d2 Con damage now, and again in some hours if they survive (I didn't bother looking that up 'cause I didn't think it'd matter).
also: SO MANY ATTACKS

[thisnamedoesntf]

Bartimolph lets out a dwarvenly roar and charges the enemy!

First turn dismount + 1 move, next turn run -> end up within ~30 feet of them

[thisnamedoesntf]

Finally reaching his foe, Bartimolph swings his pick and lets out yet another dwarvenly roar!

He hits the closest one:
[roll0] damage: [roll1]

[jm_jazzman]

OOC: Sorry about the crazy long delay... I've been super busy gigging and neglecting classes. Things may be sort of getting back to normal now...

Valthar's spear punches cleanly though the chest of the nearest bandit, who collapses to the ground whilst releasing an unpleasant gurgling sound and a fair amount of blood. The summoned scorpion digs its claws into the leg of one of the two remaining bandits.

Bartimolph's pick strikes that same bandit at an odd angle, digging into his leather armour but not appearing to do any harm.

Both bandits, trembling with fear, drop their bows and draw short swords. The one who has not yet been injured panics and tries to make a run for a cave entrance that can be seen just beyond a nearby boulder. Vlog takes this opportunity to crack the foe in the back of the head with his massive, hairy fist. The bandit drops like a stone and doesn't move. The remaining bandit slowly backs away about five feet toward the cave and does nothing more than keep his guard up, realizing that he is greatly outmatched. Vlog takes a swing at him as well, but hits nothing but air.

In the background, Gungis looks like he is about to die from blood loss as a result of his wound.

Lyn's turn now. If combat continues after that, the next turn's order is Vathar, Bartimolph, bandit, Vlog, Lyn.

[!rorak]

"Oh, great," Lyn murmurs. She does an about-face and proceeds towards Gungis.
Lyn attempts to stabilize Gungis, if she can reach him this turn.
[roll0]
The +1 is Wisdom, I'm guessing that helps here.

[Aeti]

Valthar's scorpion dashes behind the bandit, distracting him at an opportune time.
Scorpion Claw:[roll0][roll1]

Power Attack:[roll2][roll3]

[jm_jazzman]

Valthar strikes down the bandit with a mighty blow.

All is silent for a moment. Then, a muffled and unintelligible voice can be heard calling from inside the cave.

Meanwhile, Lyn is able to tend to Gungis' wound, so that he is in no immediate danger of succumbing.

[Aeti]

Valthar dismounts to put a black boot on the bandit's body and heave his embedded spear free in a spray of crimson.

Seeing Lyn tending to a fallen comrade, Valthar turns to assist. Check the cave for threats, the cleric says in dwarven to his scorpion as he trots across the barren ground.

Kneeling beside the elf, Valthar checks the bandages with a practiced hand. Surprisingly well done, lass, he murmurs. But tha' arrow is lodged deep. I cannae heal him with it still inside, and ta remove it would kill him. Putting a hand on the fallen elf's shoulder, he gently shakes him. Lad? Can you hear me?

[Aeti]

Valthar shakes his head at the lack of response. At least I can ease his way. Valthar strips off his glove to place his hand on Gungis' chest and speak the final words of Nerull's Prayer. When we be called, we answer. Go to tha embrace of Nerull. A black glow surrounds them as the dark cleric uses his god given power.

Leaving the corpse's eyes staring up at the empty sky, We'll share his gear out amongst us; no reason ta let it go ta waste. Valthar says pragmatically. First I want ta see what be in tha' cave.

[jm_jazzman]

Entering the cave cautiously, Valthar finds an improvised living space, littered with the usual debris that would accumulate in any such environment. An oil lamp, some piles of blankets, some cookware by a fire pit are among the items. Further back, in the dark, the muffled cries grow louder. Valthar rounds a corner and sees a large metal cage imprisoning a bound and gagged man who is struggling against his bonds.

[Aeti]

Making no move to free the man, Valthar examines him closely.
Sense motive! It could be a trap within a trap!

[jm_jazzman]

The ropes binding the man's hands together behind his back look very secure, as does the cloth gag that is preventing him from being able to speak. The man has several fresh scrapes and bruises on his face and arms; it looks as thoug he was captured and imprisoned very recently. The cage appears to be of sturdy construction, and has a very strong looking lock holding it closed.

[Aeti]

Valthar removes the man's gag through the bars of the cage. I be Valthar, a Cleric and bandit killer.

[Gowron]

V-Valthar? A c-cleric? A killer of... b-b-bandits? I assure you! I am of no bandit blood and make all my sacrifices to Mumblemumble on time every week!

Lim-Sum, Novice of the Order of One-Million-Rays-of-Light-As-They-Refract-Through-The-Morning-Dew manages to stumble out a coherent sentence, regardless of his terrible fear induced stutter and terrified trembling.


Bluff!
1d20++ Damnit, rolled off the table.

[Aeti]

The cleric believes this man to be either honest or the greatest dissembler the world has ever seen. Picking the former, he looks for a way to open the stout lock. I be looking for a way to free ye, lad. Do ye know where the key be?

[!rorak]

"Wow,"said Lyn. "That was surprisingly qui--" Oh, he's gone.

He certainly hadn't shied away from taking a life. In cold blood. From a former comrade.

Interesting.

Lyn looked down at the body, trying to make it fit with the moving, breathing person she'd seen earlier. She looked at the corpse she'd made herself, and waited to feel something. Eventually, she gave up.

Doubly interesting...

She headed down to where her friends were waiting.

[!rorak]

"I'll just start searching the bodies, then, shall I?" said Lyn, mostly rhetorically.

[roll0] Search on the nearest bandit, using Wisdom (it's Wisdom, right? If it's dex, subtract 1 from that roll. If it's int, add 1 to the roll.

[jm_jazzman]

Even with a fail search result... well, this stuff can't be missed, and you can take time for a decent result anyway.

Searching the bodies, Lyn finds 3 longbows of questionable craftsmanship, 2 badly worn short swords, 1 light mace, 1 dagger, 42 arrows, 2 sets of smelly leather armour, 1 set of even smellier cloth armour, a spyglass, 2 rings, a hemp necklace with a wooden amulet carved in the likeness of an owl, 4 pairs of leather boots, 3 belts, 1 flask of foul-smelling booze, and 2 flasks of water.

Let's go in the cave, Vlog says to Lyn and Bartimolph in a flat, unexcited voice, sounds like there's something up in there. He wanders in, grabbing one of the short swords along the way and muttering something about a "decent-sized knife at last". Soon, he sets his eyes upon the man in the cage.
Who are you?

THE CAAAAAAAAVVVVEEEEE!!

[Gowron]

Lim Sum looks rather more at ease with himself now, having made up in his mind that his odds of surviving this ordeal have increased significantly.

I am Lim Sum...

Beat

Novice of the Order of One-Million-Rays-of-Light-As-They-Refract-Through-The-Morning-Dew!

Lim Sum pauses, perhaps awaiting for his audience to seem impressed by their new found knowledge.

[jm_jazzman]

I am Vlog, the massive half-orc says, seeming as though he had not even registered Lim Sum's impressive honorific.
We should find the key to let you out of there... he begins searching the cave.

[Aeti]

What a good idea, says Valthar exasperatedly.

[!rorak]

Lyn pockets the spyglass and rings. She offers the spyglass to Vlog when she catches up to him. "Loot from the bandits. You want?"

She tries to assist him in searching the cave.

[Aeti]

While his party searches the caves, Valthar asks each if they are wounded, and heals them if they are.

[jm_jazzman]

The natural cave is full of cracks and odd recesses. The stone is very soft and brittle, and there is a layer of sand and dust on the floor. As the party searches for the elusive key, Bartimolph's hair suddenly stands up on the back of his neck. Something very bad is upsetting his dwarven senses.

*CRACK*

Rocks fall...





And the whole party finds themselves falling along with them. The entire floor of the cave has given way at once, leaving nobody any time or ability to react.

The free-fall quickly ends with a splash. Underwater, being bludgeoned by boulders...

As suddenly as it all began, each member of the party finds themselves now in waste-deep water in pitch black darkness. Lim Sum also finds himself safe, having been thrown free from the remains of the now-crushed cage.

For those who can see in absolute darkness, the water-filled tunnel is blocked by debris at one end, and forks into three different tunnels 30 feet in the other direction. The walls show that this cavern was carved out naturally by the water. There are patches of slime growing here and there, and nothing else.

sorry for yet anoter delay. Anyways, now you are in a dungeon. Old-school, baby!

[!rorak]

"Oh, wonderful," says Lyn dryly. "An adventure."

[Aeti]

It was the cave in again. Valthar tried to focus on even breaths, but his frantic thoughts overwhelmed him. Cave in! Nerull had saved him from his trial, why was he back in the same place! Not again! Had he done something wrong?

I will not be trapped! roars Valthar into the darkness. You hear me? NEVER AGAIN!

Listening to his echo rage against the deafening silence of the cave, he regains some measure of control. Not again, he whispers.

Without thought for the well being of his party, the cleric chooses the tunnel on the left and sets out.

Last time Valthar was trapped in a cave, it didn't go well for his allies. He's a bit unstable.

[!rorak]

"Well, that was ominous," says Lyn. She follows Valthar down the cave, careful to stay in sight of both him and the rest of the party.

[jm_jazzman]

The left tunnel curves gently back and forth as the party moves through it, but there is little change in elevation. The only sounds that can be heard are the breathing of the party members and the sloshing of the warm, stagnant water against the uneven sides of the cave as it is disturbed; these noises seem greatly magnified in volume as they echo off the hard walls.

Pushing further along in the complete darkness, Valthar rounds a corner and is met by an unexpected obstacle: a heavy iron grate blocking the passage, about 10 feet in front of him. He then notices that the tunnel beyond the grate has been dug out by hand. It has been crafted with flat surfaces, and there is a narrow walkway along each wall so that one would not have to trudge through the milky, waste-deep water.

Ten feet past the grate, the corridor reaches a T intersection, with similar passages splitting off to the left and right. On the far wall, framed by the perpendicular passages, it appears as though some symbol or rune was painted there many years past, but has since faded almost completely.

Glancing around quickly, it becomes evident that the continuation of the natural cave Valthar had been following until now takes a sudden and unexpected twist straight up, narrowing considerably in the process. A minimal trickle of water slowly makes its way down the wall from the opening above.

Vlog stops just behind him, wringing water from his long, tangled dreads and silently observing the area.

[!rorak]

Lyn, at this point, has become a little unnerved at the prospect of spending the rest of her life--however long or short that would prove to be--trapped in a cave. "This means people, right?" she says, to nobody in particular. "So, a better chance that these tunnels actually lead somewhere?"

Lyn steps forward to inspect the grate, wondering mostly if it would be susceptible to acid.

[!rorak]

RETCON SINCE LYN CAN'T SEE IN DARKNESS:

"Uagh. Gods."

Lyn struggled into a standing position, no mean feat without any visual cues. In the silence, she could hear only the occasional moan or clink of armor as her comrades pulled themselves up as well. The sounds echoed down through the cave as if deserting them. Caught up in the sudden, eerily complete sensory deprivation, Lyn waited to hear something else. But behind the sounds of her comrades was only the soft white noise of the water flowing down through the caves.

This was beginning to get unnerving.

Lyn felt around her until she touched someone's arm. It was burly, and fairly hairy, and recoiled the moment she had found it. And it was too high up to belong to a dwarf.

"Vlog?" said Lyn. "I can't see anything. Little help here?"

"I will not be trapped! You hear me? NEVER AGAIN!"

Beneath the sounds of rushing water, Lyn heard something that sounded eerily similar to Valthar tramping away down through the caves.

"Well, that was ominous. Look, we'd better follow him." Lyn had a sudden mental image of Vlog's face the last time she'd tried to direct him. Uh, by 'we' I mean 'you', naturally. But I wouldn't mind holding onto your arm so that I can tag along and not end up drowned or starved to death."

Lyn manages a small, hollow laugh. "You know? That wouldn't be too bad."

[jm_jazzman]

"Yes, we shall all stick together," Vlog replies, "I will guide you."

Leading Lyn down the watery tunnel, Vlog stops behind Valthar when the party encounters the grate. He describes the setting to Lyn in detail while squeezing the water from his hair.

[!rorak]

Lyn steps up to the grating, guided by Vlog, and casts an acid splash on a bar at the rim of the grating, a couple centimeters away from where the bar meets the wall of the cave.



[roll0]




After about a minute, Lyn asks, "Well? Anything?"

[jm_jazzman]

There is a faint hissing sound from the acid as it trickles down the metal bars. Strangely, several points of softly glowing yellow-green light begin to emerge almost wherever it touches. It appears that the slime growing in this cave becomes luminescent when exposed to acid. The metal, however, seems unaffected.

"Interesting..." Vlog observes. "Could be helpful, but not in the way we need right now. Let me try."

There is enough of the soft glowing light for Lyn to make out Vlog's form as he slips his hairy fingers through the grate (being sure not to grasp too close to the weird acid-covered slime) and attempts to violently tear it from the walls. This has little effect. Frustrated, he draws back his arm and lands a crashing blow against the metal grid. There is a thunderous boom, but still no apparent change.

"Ow."

[!rorak]

Lyn sighs. "Great. Guess we better try a different tunnel. Lead us on out, Vlog."

Lyn suddenly perks up. "Or not. Hang on."

Lyn investigates the glowing slime, taking several moments to try to pull it off the wall in such a way that she can grasp a non-glowing area and carry it with her.

[Aeti]

After Lyn gives up on opening the door, Valthar casts a spell, and gives it a shot, using the heaviest hammer from his backpack.
Guidance: +1 on Attack Roll.
Power Attack: [roll0] [roll1]

[jm_jazzman]

It takes little effort for Lyn to scrape a handful of slime from the wall.

Valthar's hammer crashes against the grate, the thunderous sound booming for what seems like an unnatural length of time as it echoes through the cavern. Surprisingly, there is a small but noticeable amount of damage dealt to the thick bars by the hammer. It appears as though the metal has been weakened by the passing of gods know how many years down here in this dank environment.

[!rorak]

Lyn laughs. "Not bad. How long can you keep that up for?"

She nudges Vlog. "May as well explore the other caverns while he's at it. You want to come with? What about you, monk boy?"

[jm_jazzman]

CRASH!

"I will stay here," Vlog declares,

CRASH!

"and help Valthar with the grate."

CRASH!

Valthar continues to hammer away, slowly breaking down the metal bit by bit with each ear-assaulting blow.

OOC: If anyone does choose to split off, it appears as though there will be enough time to do a little exploration before the grate is down.

[Aeti]

Valthar mutters to himself as he works. Never again. WHAM!Never again.WHAM!

[!rorak]

"Uh... Fair enough," says Lyn, more than a little discomforted by Valthar's composure. "Seeing as I'm out of spells, I think I'll just stick around here after all. "

[jm_jazzman]

CRASH!
CRASH!
CRASH!
CREEAAAAKK...
CRA-SPLOOSH*!

*This is the sound produced when a "crash" is crossed with a "sploosh". It's been proven by science.

Dripping with sweat, Valthar strikes the grate one last time as it is finally smashed apart; a large chunk breaks off and disappears below the murky water. Jagged fragments remain protruding from the walls, but there is now an opening large enough to pass through.

[Aeti]

Valthar stows his hammer, draws his spear, and heads through the opening.

[jm_jazzman]

The stone here was worked a very long time ago. During the time since then, parts have been eroded by the water. The walkways on either side still look solid enough to walk on. Ahead, the corridor splits off at right angles, left and right.

[!rorak]

Lyn fell in behind Valthar as he steps through the opening. As she did, she nudged Vlog."Does Valthar seem entirely... sane... you to right now?"

[jm_jazzman]

"I've seen worse," Vlog mutters as he follows the others through the remains of the grate.

Face-to-face with the faded markings on the wall in front of him at the end of the tunnel, Valthar can now see down the two other passages that meet here. The one on the right leads directly to a large metal door. Next to it is a boxy panel with two large levers (both angled up), and just a few inches' worth of the edge faces of three wheel-shaped pieces of metal protruding from the wall.

OOC: Because my description is fail: It's essentially a combo lock http://www.sz-wholesale.com/uploadFiles/upimg8/Combination-lock_45448.jpg

The passage to the left leads to a set of stairs that winds its way in a slow curve up through the stone.

[!rorak]

"Interesting," says Lyn. She moves forward and is about to pull one of the levers, just to see what happens.

OOC: If anybody wants to stop her (hey, maybe IT'S A TARP!), now is really the best time.

[jm_jazzman]

The first lever is stiff and moves down slowly when pulled with constant pressure. A moment later, a series of mechanical clanking noises can be heard distantly through the stonework.

There is a sandy scraping sound as square hatch previously hidden in the ceiling suddenly shifts open. Water begins pouring down through the opening, as does something tentacley that flails out at Lyn's lead as it falls.

Surprise! Once you've finished re-making your stats, roll an opposing grapple check! (no attack of opportunity is provoked)

[!rorak]

Lyn gives a furious, disgusted shriek and tries to throw the creature off of her.



[roll0]
OOC: Grapple check is going to go badly, I think.


"Augh! Little help here?!"

[jm_jazzman]

The multi-tentacled beast wraps its arms around Lyn's face. A jolt of pain shoots through her body as something sharp clamps down on the top of her head.

Lyn takes 4 points of damage.
End of surprise round.
Everyone roll initiative and post action (unless you really want to wait to find out the order first) for round 1.

[Aeti]

Initiative: [roll0]
Power Attack: [roll1][roll2]
Hold still, lass!

Power attacking a slimy thing ON SOMEONE'S FACE is always the best idea!

[jm_jazzman]

Since the bandit attack, Bartimolph had been content to follow the group silently, allowing the others to direct their path. But no longer! Now there was fighting to be done! With a rousing dwarven cry, he swings viciously at the tentacle, trying to avoid Lynn's face in the process.

[roll0]
[roll1]
[roll2]

[Gowron]

Lim Sum watches his comrades prepare to attack the whatsits wrapping its thingies on Lynn's top.

My friends need my help!

Prepare to meet an unfortunate for you but fortunate for us end!

INITIATIVE! [roll0]
ATTACK! [roll1]
FLURRY OF BLOWS! [roll2]
(Hopeful) DAMAGE! [roll3]
MORE DAMAGE! [roll4]

[!rorak]

Lyn tries again to throw the creature off of her.



Save or Die roll:

[roll0]

Grapple Check:

[roll1]

[jm_jazzman]

Lyn collapses and tumbles into the murky water.

Not wasting so much as a moment, the formless, many-armed monster reaches out now towards Bartimolph with its slimy tentacles and wraps itself around his stocky draven frame. Its two enormous, unblinking eyes stare him down with a dead coldness as a terrifying beak-like mouth emerges from within the mass of flailing tentacles and bites into his shoulder.

In the interest of keeping things moving, I made your opposing grapple check for you. Sorry to hijack the roll, but this turn is already a little weird since everyone posted before we found out Lyn was unconscious.

Take 2 points of damage, and you attack doesn't happen :(

Vlog immediately ducks under the water and grabs Lyn, placing her unconscious form on the elevated walkway on the side of the passageway so that she won't drown.

Valthar's spear easily pierces the flesh of the creature, causing it to loosen some of its tentacles from Bartimolph's body as it attempts to fend off the weapon. Before it has a chance to react, however, Lim Sum delivers a series of devastating blows that effectively beat the boneless creature into a pulp. Its arms cease twitching, and its body deflates like an empty drinking pouch.

"So," Vlog motions towards Lyn, "does anyone here know how to heal?"

!Rorak, roll a d10. If you land a 10, Lyn becomes stable at -1HP

[Aeti]

I am granted some small power in these matters, Valthar says as he removes his muck-stained glove. If Nerull wills it. Be healed, Lynnette!

[jm_jazzman]

Lyn suddenly coughs up water, her eyes wide as she gasps for breath.

Meanwhile, a solid stream of water continues to pour down from the 10inch-by-10inch hatch in the ceiling, showing no sign of letting up. Vlog uses it as a shower to try and wash some of the slime out of his dreadlocks.

Lyn is at 3HP!

[!rorak]

Lyn yanks herself upright.
"It's... Lynisette," she croaks.


OOC: Knowledge Arcana check for knowing who Nerull is,

d20+3 (+2 Int, +1 rank).


Lyn returns to the panel. "Ugh. Okay, clearly a bad idea there. For all we know, we can't even use this thing anymore."

Lyn reaches out to push the level back into its original position, just to make sure it isn't an option, when she suddenly stops, and flinches a little.

"Hey... New guy. Dim Sum. Would you please pull this lever for me? I'm not that strong to begin with, and I still feel a little dizzy after all... that."

[Aeti]

Valthar grumbles to himself. Lynset. Lynnette. All human names sound tha same.


Valthar heads to the left passage and pauses.
I do nay think tha panel was an option ta begin with. I have heard of locks such as these, which respond to not a key, but a number or word. We have neither. If you want to puzzle it out, we should split up. I am getting out.

Maan I bet there is like treasure or stuff behind that metal door. It's not in character for me to hang around though.

[jm_jazzman]

Sorry to be a spoil-sport, but Lyn was unconscious when Nerull's name was spoken, so she didn't hear it. I'll let you keep your roll for the next time it comes up, if you like.

Standing once again next to the faded markings on the wall, the staircase carved from the stone rises out of the water and spirals up to the right.

"I'm inclined to stick with the healer, unless anyone has a more clever idea for opening this door," Vlog grunts.

[!rorak]

"I've been thinking about that," says Lyn. "I'm not much good to anyone without spells, and I need sleep to get those back. Tell you what: You two go explore, I'm going to go to try to get some sleep here. That's assuming mr. former prisoner here is willing to stand guard?"

[jm_jazzman]

Vlog turns to Valthar.

"As eager as you are to get out of here, maybe we should rest a bit before carrying on. We've already had one close encounter since we landed down here. I can take a turn standing guard."

[Aeti]

Valthar studies the water gushing out of the 10x10 inch hole for any signs of slowing.

[jm_jazzman]

The water does not seem to be letting up. However, due to the size of the cave system, the water lever here has not risen by any detectable amount.

[!rorak]

"Thanks," says Lyn. She moves around for a little while inside the room, trying to find somewhere suitable for sleeping, before deciding that everywhere is uniformly bad. She goes to sleep somewhere dry using her cloak for a pillow.

[jm_jazzman]

While going through her soaking-wet gear before setting up to sleep on the stone ledge above the murky water, Lyn comes across the large, heavy book from Let-Za that she has been hauling around since the group first met at the inn in Riverview. She notes that, strangely, the pages are still bone dry. Just as strange, just about everything else inside her bag has been covered in now-dried blood (which is removing itself rather quickly after having been dunked underwater).

"Valthar," Vlog says, noticing the worried expression on his face, "In order to get out of here alive, we need to be well-rested and prepared. Lyn need to rest in order to practice her magic. As I said, I will take first watch. Everything will be fine"

[Aeti]

I.. I guess tha makes sense. Yer right, I'm nay thinking straight. Valthar takes his spare robe out of his bag, and rests his head on it as he lays down with his back to the party. His eyes remain open for a long time.

[jm_jazzman]

Vlog watches over the party for the first four uneventful hours of rest. After that time, he checks to see if anyone else might be ready to take the second shift so he can get some shuteye too.

If nobody volunteers to wake up, he'll just go to sleep on you guys and leave you at the mercy of the chance encounter roll.

[Aeti]

Valthar jerks out of his restless sleep when Vlog touches his shoulder, but his momentarily cold eyes soften when he remembers where he is. Nodding understanding, he agrees to take the watch.

Valthar waits until he is sure Vlog is asleep before sneaking over and examining the book from Let-za.
Move Silently: [roll0]

[jm_jazzman]

Vlog makes a pillow out of his hideous mass of hair and promptly falls into a deep sleep.

Valthar quietly shuffles around his soundly sleeping associates on the elevated ledge above the water. He carefully opens the top of Lyn's bag and pulls out the ancient book. It is heavy to hold and, unlike everything else in the pack, completely dry. There are flecks of what appears to be freshly dried blood clinging to the cover.
Lim-Sum is the only one who could potentially hear Valthar in his sleep, so he must may make a listen check if he cares to take notice of his party member moving about while on watch.

Also, Valthar, make a listen check!

[Aeti]

Keeping an ear out for strange noises above the fall of the water, Valthar scratches absently at the dried blood on the book while he looks through the dry pages.

He pauses, and draws his beltknife. Nicking the tip of his finger, he smears a bit of blood on a page, then watches it intently.


Listen: [roll0]

[jm_jazzman]

Lim-Sum's sleep is not disturbed by Valthar's sneaking about.

The flakes of dried blood are easily removed, as they seem to have hardened elsewhere before being deposited on the cover. The brittle pages are all blank, entirely unmarked save for common signs of gentle aging.

Smearing a short trail of blood near the top corner of the current leaf, Valthar notices that the fluid isn't absorbed into the parchment as he would have expected. Instead, it bunches into a number of small droplets, not unlike drops of morning dew on a blade of grass. Also of note is that there are a couple of small yet distinct spots within the marked area where the droplets refused to come to rest, leaving interruptions in the trail of blood.

Valthar hears nothing unusual above the noise created by the unusual waterfall.

[Aeti]

It's like tha letters were written in clear wax. Valthar thinks to himself. But I do nae have enough blood to cover a whole page.. He pauses, and moves to look for the squid-like thing.
Ink or blood, it must have somethin' I ken use, the cleric murmurs as he searches.

[jm_jazzman]

Valthar collects some of the squishy remains form the cave squid and rubs the juices from its innards over the page. The liquid, like his blood, does not become absorbed into the material. However, it does not seem content to pause on the parchment's surface. Instead, it rolls right off as if the entire surface was made of uniform smooth metal or wax.

[Aeti]

Valthar tries submerging the book underwater.

[jm_jazzman]

Removing the book from the murky water, Valthar watches as the last droplets on the cover take no more than a couple of seconds to free themselves and fall away, leaving the heavy artifact completely dry once again. The pages remain as blank as they always were. It appears that the blood smear that Valthar left has been washed away.

[Aeti]

About ready to give up, Valthar opens the book halfway, and says irritably, As one of tha last members of tha Order of tha Falling Leaf, I command ye to reveal your writings.

[jm_jazzman]

The book responded as most do when commanded to do something.

[Aeti]

Valthar gives up, his tests and squid-squeezing have taken most of his watch, and he wants to get a move on anyways. He wakes the other members of the Order of the Falling Leaf to speak with them about the book, trying to leave Lim-Sum asleep for a moment.

Keep yer voices down, I don't want ta wake tha monk until we are finished talkin'. I do nae trust him, he is nae in our Order.

Valthar hands back the book to Lyn for safekeeping, and fills them in on what tests he tried.
Tha invisible patches were small, maybe letters or tha little pictures you get in weird old temples. I think they hold the secret to what the book contains, Valthar finishes.

[jm_jazzman]

As Lyn sets to put the book away, it suddenly seems to grow heavier and slips from her grasp. It tumbles onto the walkway and comes to a halt open... to a page with writing.

The full names of each member of the party (save for Lim-Sum) are spelled out in their respective native tongue. Next to each name is a small illustration of a leaf, which seem as if some trick of the eye is making each one appear to rustle as if in a gentle breeze. Gungis' name is almost completely blotted out by blood stains, and there is no leaf accompanying his spot on the page.

"Uh... that wasn't there before,"

[!rorak]

"You know, I think it says a lot about our possibilities for success that one of our members is already dead."

Lyn flips through the book to see if anything else has changed. She also tries smearing some of her own blood beneath her name, and on the leaf icon.

[jm_jazzman]

Flipping through the book, all the other pages remain blank. Flipping back again, she stumbles across the page of names sooner than she had anticipated.

Cutting herself slightly with a knife and smearing her blood on the leaf drawing, Lyn sees the warm liquid absorbed into the picture, changing the leaf's colour to red. The blood smeared under he name beads on the page and rolls away.

[!rorak]

Lyn finally just drops the book back into her pack. "Interesting, but not really that helpful," she says. "I say we get on with getting out of here."

[!rorak]

Lyn takes the book back out of her backpack.

[Aeti]

Valthar bleeds a bit on his leaf too, and passes his beltknife over so the remaining two can follow suit.

[jm_jazzman]

OOC: Sorry for the long delay. Super busy as usual.

After Bartimolph and Vlog spill a little bit of their blood onto their name-leaves, the ink blurs and then begins to swirl about the page.

Suddenly, it is as if the ink is swirling within everyone's eyes as well. Everything goes dark, and then the darkness fades away to nothingness. Once again, the party finds themselves in the "place" that isn't really a place, with a table that isn't a table. Let-Za is present, and his voice can be heard resonating from every direction at once as he speaks.

Greetings, friends.

Before I continue, there is something which I must explain. I am not Let-Za, merely an illusion of him meant to aid you. He will not have any knowledge of what takes place here, but I will do my best to speak and act as he would were he here.

Clearly, you have discovered that this book will aid the members of the Order of the Falling Leaf in unexpected ways, and always at some cost. The price, however, is greatly reduced if all members are working in concert.

One measure of the cost to yourselves that cannot be reduced, however, is that with each time you turn to this book for help, it will become easier for the followers of Abek to seek you out. The magic here is a well-guarded secret, but it will rub off on you, so to speak, and they have ways of sniffing it out.

Now, on to business.
One of the order has fallen. You must keep your numbers strong with those who you trust, those who you can rely on in trying times. Open the book to one who is worthy, and you will allow them to join you in your mission.

This is all the guidance I can give you at this time. Turn to the book in times of need, but remember not to be careless in its use. And keep in mind, it will often work in unexpected ways...

Good luck!

And with that, reality sets in again. The pages are blank.

[jm_jazzman]

"Um..." Vlog breaks the silence, "Do we trust this Lim-Sum guy?"

[Aeti]

Absently healing the tip of his finger with an orison, Valthar is silent for a long moment. No, says Valthar finally. I do not. But perhaps God has delivered him to us to balance the life of Gungis. I say we allow him to accompany us, but we keep him away from these secrets for the moment.

[jm_jazzman]

"If that's what everyone agrees to, I will not argue. Let's wake him and get a move on, then."

[!rorak]

Lyn wakes Lim Sum.