Tinsley
So, just putting it out there, is anyone else frugal enough to go halfsies on a room?
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Tinsley
So, just putting it out there, is anyone else frugal enough to go halfsies on a room?
Nile
Nile nods slowly, warming to the idea as the cake settles in his stomach. He had to admit, even if he didn't personally mind a good rain, it would be a good deal more comfortable listening to it from inside a tavern with a drink in his hand than walking through it for the next few hours. Besides, Jacques had slipped him a slice of cake earlier. Nile wasn't much for honor and all that, but he figured he was something like honor-bound to agree with Jacques for the next few minutes at least.
"You're right, of course. Let's see if we can find something stronger than a cup of tea and perhaps a dry place to rest our heads."
Nile looks back and forth between Tinsley and his own bulging pouch full of coins and shrugs. "I've never been rich enough to say I don't care about a few silver. Guess I'm still not. I'll room with you Tinsley.
Depending on how many rooms are even available at the inn we may all end up being bunk bed brothers
Desmond
"Oh, well I wouldn't mind that. I don't really like to rest on a bed, and watching sleeping people is rather comforting", Desmond responds to Jacques' comment. His tone was casual, so it was hard to tell if he was actually joking or not.
Tinsley
Des, my man, that may be- actually, hold on.
By what can only be divine intervention, Tinsley shuts his mouth, and what's more, appears to actually consider his words. After a time, he visibly gives up.
For the record, you have not rendered me speechless, as it were. I in fact have a myriad of things I could say to that, but I'm concerned about offending your personhood, and what with that whole thing back then with the cage, and me not really saying anything, I do want you to understand where I stand on that whole... angle.
It may be the closest thing to an apology that's left his mouth in years. He stuffs his hands into his pockets and mumbles some more.
I'm not exactly completely what you'd call "human" myself, so I get it.
Desmond
Desmond quizzically watches Tinsley struggle with his words, not really catching the gist of it. Nevertheless, he patted the rogue's shoulder in good humor. "Do you have elven lineage or something like that then? In any case, don't feel bad about that incident, you weren't the one trying to put me into a cage after all. I hope you aren't afraid to speak your mind though, because as you can see, I have a rather thick skin, heh", Desmond says, knocking on his head and producing a metallic "klang", chuckling about his own joke.
"If I did say something odd, I do apologize. To be honest, I've mostly kept to myself for a rather long time, so I'm not always quite certain when I shouldn't say what's on my mind."
After short deliberation, the party seeks shelter from the heavy rains at the local inn to spend the night and get ready for the morning’s journey. As far as inn’s go, this particular one is rather nice. Not the most accommodating the group has ever seen, but far from the worse.
The innkeeper is a polite old man, but he laughs at the notion of bunking mates. He brings you upstairs to one big communal room revealing you all had to share to begin with. The price is one gold coin per night, which reduces the old man from polite to greedy. At least he throws in a hot meal: a bowl of vegetable soup and a piece of brisket.
Spoiler: Jacques
(Jacques: During the evening, as Jacques reviews his notes and say his prayers, he can also perform the finding familiar ritual, to acquire the bat helper! If Jacques wants to.)
Spoiler: Is your character a heavy drinker?(If your character is a heavy drinker, please roll a 2d6 and subtract that in silver pieces. That’s your bar tab)
Morning comes again with a light drizzle. Someone mentions it is unusually rainy for the season. It was good to rest in a comfortable bed with warm blankets. The second the heroes step out, they are greeted with a gust of chilled wind, reminding them that autumn will soon give way to the snowy season.
As the party prepares to leave town, following the map to the marked location, the heroes are interrupted by a barefoot gnome with unkempt hair “Greetings, strangers!” the gnome is holding a squirrel close to his chest, as if comforting a newborn “On behalf of the Druid’s guild, allow me to offer my services! I see you intent to depart on yet another harrowing journey! So, for a small sum of 5 gold pieces, I can send a woodland critter carrying a message to a loved one. Let them know you fare well and send your regards!”
(this is a postal druid. This service is common in small towns)
Tinsley
{This is still last night}
Tinsley chuckles- it comes out more like a snort.
You're not wrong, but you also- literally- barely know the half of it.
So my mum's half-orc, and my Dad's half-elf. Then my grandfather on my mum's side, he was mostly human but his grandmum was a gnome, and then my dad was a second generation half elf- his mum was half-Drow and his dad was Half Wood-Elf.
... Travelin's been in my blood for a few generations now, if you can't tell.
{The morning now}
Tinsley thinks it over- it had been a few weeks since he'd had the coin to get in touch with his folks.
He offers the gnome the gold and pens a short letter.
Before he heads to sleep at night Jacques takes the time to light his incense and casts find familiar. Promptly a small celestial spirit manifests a little black bat that Jacques names Ophelia.
Jacques starts to make a face at the idea of having someone stare at him while he slept all night but manages to turn it into a shrug. (Desmond’s just about the nicest war machine you could imagine. I can’t imagine he’s gonna get up to any mischief while I sleep and it not exactly like it’s a human eyeballing me through the night)
With the weather so blustery Jacques makes sure to buy a thick overcoat or cloak to protect him from the elements. With that out of way and Ophelia safely tucked under the new coat Jacques is ready to once again face the wilderness.
Nile
[The night before]
Standing just outside the mayor's manor, Nile can't help feeling incredibly fortunate as he looks from one face to the next. They were still making plans for that evening, but Nile was momentarily distracted, wondering if he'd felt this comfortable around a group of new people this quickly before. Nile had avoided others at first, preferring to travel the road alone, but it wasn't long before he'd discovered just how dangerous adventuring alone truly was. One close call had been enough. Even so, he had expected to drift from group to group, growing his power and his fortune slowly on his own. It had seemed foolish just a few weeks ago to trust anyone on the road. Perhaps it still was, but Nile was having a harder time remembering why.
As Desmond demonstrates his 'thick skin,' Nile squeezes his hands together, resisting the urge to reach up and knock on his noggin. How would one go about politely requesting permission to knock on a Warforged? Before Nile can give the question full consideration, Tinsley dives into his lineage, and Nile's thoughts are turned elsewhere. His puzzlement finally gives way as a look of understanding passes over his face. Nodding sagely, he remarks, "I think I can see it." He examines Tinsley even closer, sharp eyes roaming over the rogue's features. "And there's something else too, isn't there? Is that...did one of your ancestor's mate with a were-rat, perhaps?"
Later that night, Nile watches with interest as Jacques proceeds with the ritual necessary to bring Ophelia into his service. It's both fascinating and inspiring, as Nile can only imagine what sort of familiar he might choose given such an opportunity. A hound of some kind, perhaps.
Spoiler: OOC
I can think of worse things to spend coin on. I have a few drinks, whether to join someone else or just to block out the sound of someone else snoring and/or the sight of Desmond staring unblinkingly.
[roll0]
[The next morning]
Nile eyeballs the druid suspiciously, but ultimately doesn't say or do anything. Instead he thinks back, trying to remember if he's ever used a spell to catapult a living creature. He frowns, unable to remember such a time. If one were to catapult a squirrel into an ogre, how might that play out?
Desmond
Desmond is surprised to hear about Tinsley's colorful ancestry. "That's... quite the tapestry." he comments, in turn seeming lost for words. Though he did wonder if the roguish man was pulling his leg.
Desmond doesn't really feel like wasting food, but he does politely enough buy an ale, mostly just holding it during the evening. As everyone goes to sleep, Desmond goes to stand next to a wall, becoming as motionless as a statue. The red glow of his eyes dims to almost nothing, though he can still indeed see everyone, and decides to watch for any pickpockets who might be sharing a room with them.
--
In the morning, rested and full of energy, Desmond starts working early, tinkering a little to create some goggles that would allow the wearer to see in the darkness. They were going into a crypt after all, couldn't expect it to be well lit.
Desmond isn't worried about the chill, but the hopes the weather won't obscure visibility or make their trip otherwise harder. He doesn't have a user (or the money) for the gnome's services though, and just gives his greetings to the druid.
Spoiler: OOCCreate Goggless of the night (artificer skill).
Add Sanctuary to prepared spells.
Franklin showed a side of himself he hadn't yet revealed. He was enjoying many different drinks, talked to many different people and laughed loud at jokes, his own and others.
He'd been social around the campfire before, but in a sort of reserved way. Telling stories, listening.
Tonight he'd been unencumbered by social status, and he had felt free as a bird. The music, the strange exotic architecture of above ground dwellings, the fresh air and warm fire. He was feeling the vibe and spent the coin to show it.
Something about being with this group of people made him, happy, he realised as he stumbled up to his bed and fell into a deep careless slumber, with a foolish grin under his red beard.
______________
The next day he was surprisingly fit, and already almost done eating a large breakfast before most made it downstairs. He greeted everyone and finished off his beans, eggs, bacon and toast and washed it away with a good amount of coffee. He paid his tab from the night before and laughed as he shared a joke with the innkeep. All that could be made out was "No, keep the change, I insist. Lovely place."
He joined the others and remarked more then once about what a nice little inn they'd stumbled across.
As they met the druid, Franklin looked at the squirrel sceptically.
"Sorry friend, I don't think they'll make it to where I'm looking to send word to."
At that he turned his attention back to the druid. "Say, you look like you're in tune with the natural order of things. Notice anything off these days? Plants infecting folk and using their dead husks as a way to move around kind of off, perhaps?"
The druid introduces himself as Zimo, the gnome. He crumble’s Tinsley’s letter into a small paper ball “To preserve your privacy, milord”and adds it to his smoke pipe. After a few long puffs, he whispers words to the squirrel’s ear, which immediately bolts off into the woods carrying the magical message.
To Franklin’s question, he answers “Terrible thing, the spore curse. I can only guess its origin. Keep your blade sharp and don’t let the monsters eat you. Sadly, that’s all the advice I can offer, milord.” He then goes on to send other townsfolk letters calling on birds, squirrels and even a ladybug, for a shorter message.
***
Leaving the town, the party sees the same two guards from the day before: the large man Gunnar and his Halfling helper Chogguf. Both of them avoid eye contact with the group and try to be invisible as the party walks by.
***
The trail to the location marked on the map is a lesser challenge for the heroes. The woods get denser at a few spots as you get closer, but nothing impossible to overcome and no surprise attacks from evil creatures.
After about 5 hours of hiking, the party arrives at a clearance and spots something that looks like a mine shaft or an ordinary cave. It is closed by heavy metal doors, large enough for an Ogre-sized being to enter and leave comfortably. There is also something that looks like an old well or watering hole close to the doors and surprisingly, a pack mule is roaming the area. The animal has a riding saddle with pockets for carrying equipment or supplies. It is tied to a tree near the entrance, eating grass peacefully.
What will the party do?
Hmmm. Well... I didn’t really expect this. I guess someone else had beat us here? Is it possible that old man sent off multiple groups of adventurers to track down the mayor?
"Certainly a possibility. We should be cautious about attacking the first thing we see, in case it's a friendly. I hope the ogre just hasn't gained a second prisoner", Desmond says, eyeing the entrance cautiously.
"Jacques, you recently gained a familiar, yes? Do you think you could send it to scout ahead of us?" Desmond asks. He also goes to examine the door, if it looks it should open easily enough.
Spoiler: DoorsThey are large metal doors, a little heavy. But they are unlocked and are fairly easy to open. If you peek inside, you see dark stone steps leading down into a corridor. Nothing out of the ordinary, but a strong scent of mold.
Franklin approached the Mule as gently as he could, and searched the saddlebags and pockets for any indication to its owner.
I was thinking the same think Desmond. If the rest of you are all right with it I think Ophelia here would be up for a little scouting.
Nile
Nile looks on the bat fondly, nodding in agreement. "Can't say I'd be opposed to having Ophelia take a look-see. She's liable to do a much better job of getting in and out sight-unseen than I would."
Tinsley
Tinsley mostly hangs back. He'd hoped something described as a "cave" would be a lot less... straightforward. Still it wouldn't hurt to take a good look at those steps, would it?
Just to be sure he hadn't missed any nooks, crannies, or other such hidey-holes...
Investigation: [roll0]
Franklin:Searching the mule’s saddlebags, Franklin finds ordinary travelling gear, all in terrible condition.
The only item worth of note is a small leather book that seems to be some kind of diary/journal. Shuffling through the pages, he finds the name of the owner, written in gold ink and fancy calligraphy, “an adventuring gnome named Gemma”. All of the entries are written in the gnomish language, which no one in the party is able to read, but at the very least Franklin can tell the dates, due to a few similarities with the dwarven language. The last entry is dated month Therendor 30th, year 760, which more than ten years ago.
After that page, it’s mostly blank. Except for a few random pages with nonsense scribble in terrible calligraphy and doodles of ponies inside poorly shaped hearts. But these were clearly made by someone other than the original owner.
Tinsley:Venturing a few steps into the dungeon, Tinsley finds nothing out of the ordinary. The doors are heavy, sure, but there is no kind of trap or harm at the entrance.
Spoiler: OpheliaSending Ophelia down the corridor, the bat finds a dark hallway leading into a large room that seems to be either a library or a laboratory. But it seems not to have been used in quite some time. The furniture is in poor shape or outright broken, the dusty books are torn and tossed around the room, along with broken empty vials and pots.
A few things stand out: There is a stone statue hunched over a desk, posed as if examining notes or a book of some sort. And at the far side of the room, next to a firmly closed door, there is another stone statue of a man posed in a praying position. Around its neck, hangs a big metal key.
Not only that, Ophelia is able to hear loud snoring coming from the following room and, as far as the sense of smelling goes, the bat does not enjoy the scent of this place.
Tinsley
Satisfied that everything was as straightforward as it looked, Tinsley returns to the group.
No traps or anything; not that you really expect an ogre to be smart enough for that, but measure twice, cut once and all that. Only issue I see is that it's the one entrance and exit, so the current contingency plan for getting caught is to not be the slowest one in the group.
Franklin didn't know what to make of the diary. He flipped through it, and mumbled a bit. "Ten years ago, wonder what happened to you." He spent a few seconds staring at the ponies and hearts. "Childlike innocence."
He showed the diary to the others shared his findings before tucking it away in his backpack. He made sure the Mule wasn't going anywhere, and fed it some bread he had.
"You sure your Ophelia is safe down there Jaqcues?" Franklin asked as he took hid large blade from his back and unstrapped the leather guard.
I hope so Franklin. I imagine a bat doesn’t stand out too much in a cave and she can fly and everything but it’s still brave of her to investigate. Definitely deserving of double rations of familiar treats when she gets back.
I can’t imagine that mule has just been here for 10 years. What the hells is going on here?
I think we should investigate what’s going on on the next level but we should be even more careful than before. Those statues aren’t exactly what I’d carve. There could be cockatrice or Medusa or basilisks down there.
Nile
Nile's frown grows deeper and deeper as he puzzles over the mule, the 10 year old gnomish journal, and Jacques' description of the pair of statues and the inside of the cave.
"Whatever else may have happened here," he finally says, "this cave has certainly changed hands. Any sign of Lady Isabel? Maybe if we're quiet enough we can find out her fate before waking the...new owner of this beautiful home."
"Perhaps the contents of the diary led the mule's owner here. Since this is a crypt, perhaps there's something valuable buried with a body, and I imagine that sort of thing would attract treasure hunters..." Desmond muses.
"The statues do seem rather worrisome, though I suppose not terribly out of place in a crypt. Though if there's indeed valuable here, I wouldn't disregard any possible magical defences or traps. Better watch your step, I suppose."
"If we want to take the sneaky approach, I don't think I should be in the front. I wasn't exactly built for stealth, so I don't think I should be in the front. In any case, if the occupant is currently asleep, I believe we shouldn't loiter too long." Desmonds start preparing for the exploration, putting on his new goggles and strapping on his shield.
My vote is that we go in as slowly and quietly as possible. We should search every inch of every room. It’s like Tinsley pointed out, there’s only one exit so we want to make sure nothing gets a chance to flank us and trap us if we need to exercise the discretion and run away.
Spoiler: OOChey guys, I'm a bit overwhelmed with work stuff today. A fresh post will come tomorrow or maybe later today!
Take it easy Yonks, happy Friday everyone!
Carefully, the party goes down the steps leading into a dark hallway that soon leads into the area that Ophelia had explored. A room that once served as a library or study of some sort and now is in decaying conditions. The furniture is broken and books are tossed around.
A few things stand out: There is a stone statue hunched over a desk, posed as if examining notes or a book of some sort. And at the far side of the room, next to a firmly closed door, there is another stone statue of a man posed in a praying position. Around its neck, hangs a big metal key.
The party is able to hear loud snoring coming from the following room and the entire are reeks with a sickening foul odor.