Absence of Empathy IC

[PolkaBear]

The City of Drim

Drim is not as glamorous or cosmopolitan as some of the other cities in Far Reach, but it has its rewards for those who call it home. The sheer basalt cliffs, source of much of the black stone with which the city was built, provide an enveloping sense of safety and security. Even the dwarves, who prefer life underground, are not troubled by the seeming ribbon of sky that slides its way overhead as it winds through the mountain pass.

Lately, however, people have been cursing the skies. The last four weeks have seen nearly constant rainfall: so extensive, in fact, that periods of drizzle and mist were considered a welcome reprieve. Those who have been in a position to know--weather mages, diviners, and the like--have been troubled by the odd character. Having no desire to stir up panic, they have kept their counsels to themselves, sharing their concerns only with the City Seats as they met in the fortress of Heldrise guarding the wall on the far (northeast) side of Drim.

The people of Drim have endured the unwonted rainfall with stolidity, going about their work as they have been able. There has, of course, been no little amount of cursing as various sewers have been overwhelmed, and the engineering of the mine shafts has been severely tested; but there has been no loss of life. The farmers who work the ground in the foothills and our toward the plain have suffered the greatest losses, as the rain has made fields of soggy stubble out of many crops.

* * * * *

For the first time in nearly a month, the rains have ceased. The constant clouds disappeared in the night, either dissipating or moving on to drench another region. People are crowding the streets, with smiles nearly as bright as the sun overhead. The general attitude matches that of a feastday, and complete strangers act like dearest friends from the sheer delight of walking in the sun's warmth.

The bustle of aimlessly milling townspeople and the glare of the sun off the many puddles prevents anyone from noticing the impending tragedy.

* * * * *

At the meeting place of two side streets, a group of children has gathered to watch a performing bear and her trainer/keeper. A carriage has caused a knot of folks to pause their travel and stand on the curb, waiting for it to pass.

If anyone had been looking, the black slab that adjoined the sewer grate would have indicated that something was wrong: it sagged and sloped at an angle that the engineers would not have approved. Moreover, some of the joints between the street cobbles showed signs of erosion and weakness.

The collapse happened quickly and took the group unawares. In a rush of mud and stone, and to a chorus of screams, those standing on the curb were swallowed by a suddenly gaping pit.

* * * * *

"Help! Help us! Throw down a rope! Maybe the side..." The man sounded anxious, but somewhat dazed.

"My baaaaabyyyyy!" The wailing woman's cry rang up the walls of the sinkhole and out through the small circle of daylight fifteen feet above. She was on the opposite side of the pit from the man.

"Down here? A baby in the pit?" Despite the slurring of his speech, you could tell that the man was alarmed.

You have fallen into a sinkhole on a slide of rubble and mire, which shifts dangerously. You hear--and almost feel--the noise of rushing water through the quivering mud.

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Consider the light above to provide shadowy illumination: you can see each other and your surroundings, but only dimly.

Everybody roll a Balance check and (if you want) a Climb check. Also roll a d4.

Chaim, you were in town to see the authorities about what (if anything) could be done for the farmers' losses. You left Long John at the stable by the Main Gate. (Given your past work with them, they don't charge you to leave him there when you ride to town.)

Everyone else, you are on your way through Drim for one reason or another, either personal or business.

I won't move the action along until everyone has posted.

Woohoo! It's started!

[Irrealist]

Arfondt:
A chubby man in his late twenties, dressed in heavy robes

Arfondt strained his eyes looking around. "How... "he bit his lip to prevent himself from crying out as he put weight on his left foot. "How many people are down here? Is anybody hurt?" he asked into the darkness.
Wait... what if someone can't talk? I hope my foot isn't seriously hurt. I think someone has to take charge now, and I don't really want it to be me.

[Mr the Geoff]

Ulf Ironbeard, A young, mail clad dwarf with traditional iron helmet and bushy beard

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Rolls
Here's hoping natural ones aren't automatic failures
Also for the sake of narrative I am assuming that Ulf is too tired to use his stonecunning to notice the cracks *wink*

Tired, damp, and covered in muck, Ulf shuffled his way out of the mine entrance and looked up at the sun Never thought I would be so happy to see the outside of a mine. Forty days of double shifts had taken their toll on the normally cheerful young dwarf, but the pumps were starting to win their fight against the rising water levels, and miraculously no miner had drowned, so Ulf was looking forward to his first proper night of sleep in a bed in over a month. Better get this shirt scrubbed before I turn in though, steel armour, salt mines and water don't mix.

Ulf took to the side streets to avoid the crowds, his spirits were as high as anyone's, but right now what he needed was sleep. Maybe it was the distraction of the street theatre, maybe the tiredness, or maybe just the fact that above ground his 6th sense for failing stonework didn't kick in, but Ulf completely failed to notice the warning signs right up to the moment of the ominous creak that loosens the bowels of every professional miner.

"Look ou..." was as far as he got before everything caved in, so much like a mine but yet so diferrent.

Voices...screaming...sobbing...something about a baby...For Moradin's sake clear your head. I's just another day at work, but with women and children too "Please stay calm, and for the sake of us all try to stay still. I have rope, mining gear, everything we need to get you all out, so long as we don't drop too much further."

Ulf fished in his pack and pulled out a rope and a grappling hook, tied one to the other, and threw at the opening above, shouting "Look out belo...above!"

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More rolls
Assuming he remained vaguely upright and unhurt in the fall, Ulf will tie a rope to a grappling hook (use rope:26) and throw it up and out of the hole (use rope:29)
*edit* oops that's a 28 and a 31, I forgot the +2 for using silk rope *edit*

[Irrealist]

Arfondt
A chubby man in his late twenties, dressed in heavy robes

Relieved that there was someone down here that seemed to know what he was doing, Antuin took a moment to collect himself before he startled and patted down his pouch to check that his books were still there.

This wouldn't have happened if the apprentices had simply gone to the market like they were told to instead of going into hiding someplace. The sun comes out and the whole guildhouse seems to be empty. So who has to take care of things again? And now I sit in a dark hole instead of enjoying the few minutes of sun that fate has forced upon me. He shakes his head. I really hope this dwarf doesn't expect me to climb up that rope; can't someone bring a ladder or something?

[tgva8889]

Kayte Mursai

The streets of Drim were just as familiar as always. Kayte recognized every alleyway and knew every path between her house and her place of work, Almarn's Book Emporium. She knew why she worked there, but sometimes she thought her old friend never realized it. She'd been off to get something from that friend, wherever she might be. Kayte had offered her a place to stay, but she'd kindly refused. It made her easy to find, she'd said, and knowing Linn, Kayte didn't argue.

Finding Linn proved to be a troubling prospect. Kayte had looked everywhere she knew Linn had been, but aparantly the girl had found some new places to hide out in the city. Defeated by her friend's street knowledge, a quality Kayte had lost ever since she pulled herself off the streets with a little help from a friend in the family, Kayte was on her way back home when she realized she'd been out of paper for way too long. So, she'd made a few turns here and there and ended up stalled behind a carriage.

Bears were interesting, but this trainer didn't seem so great. Kayte enjoyed herself for a few moments, but time was of the essence. Moving to turn off the street and take a longer route, the ground suddenly seemed to collapse under her as she fell into a newly formed sinkhole in the earth of the city.

As the sound of falling rock began to stop, Kayte pulled her head up from under her arms. "Well, that was possitively great!" she said, a hint of sarcasim in her voice. A gruff voice seemed to be taking control, so Kayte decided to keep her mouth shut a bit. This is completely insane. Even rain for four straight days shouldn't have caused something like this.

A boy's voice cried nearby, and Kayte moved as well as she could towards him. "Now now, calm down. We'll be alright down here." I hope.

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Check the dice roller thread for die rolls:
Kayte's Rolls.
Also, assuming she can reach one of the boys.

[Corinthian]

Erwin: A neat looking man in his early 20's wearing elegant clothing and a rapier inside its sheathe on his side and a lute strapped on his back.

It was a nice day for Erwin. Finally he got to go outside and bask in the sunlight. It was such a nice day to waste so he decided to head out for a stroll, meet some cute ladies and perhaps find something of his interest.

So, he found a trainer and a bear. It was nice until everything fell around him. He was able to react fast but he could not save himself from the pit.

Gods. Need to get out, need to get out, need to get out, need to get out, need to get out. He thought to himself as he reached to the nearest wall and started to climb. His instincts struck him first. There was no panic in his face or in his actions. Need to get out, need to get out, need to get out, need to get out.

[PolkaBear]

There is noise from above: cries of alarm, shouts of warning, sobbing children, and some sort of muffled exclamation about the bear.

The slick mud makes it difficult to maintain your footing.

"My baby girl! Noooo!"

A sucking sound, followed by a thud and a man's groan, indicate that the dazed-sounding man didn't quite make it across to where the woman was crying.

You see several shadowy shapes, but you all (except for Ulf) are uncertain which are fellow victims and which are pieces of rubble. Some may still be prone from the fall, so an exact count is difficult. You try to count the voices.

Ulf's darkvision:

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No, seriously. This is for Ulf alone. You'll find out soon enough.

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You wipe the mud from your eyes--at least, you hope it's just mud and not blood--and make out at least seven other people in the hole with you. You can tell from the manner in which the rubble is piled and from the consistency of the sticky muck that the hole is not entirely stable.

[tgva8889]

Kayte Mursai

Kayte's mind went crazy. The darkness, the shadows...they reminded her too much of a past life. Stay calm...stay calm...calm everyone down. Trying to clear her eyes, Kayte sighed. It's not my eyes. It's this darned place. Muttering a few words under her breath, Kayte put forth her hand and cast one of her more basic spells. Four lights similar to torches floated around her, though she dared not try to stand up on the shifting ground. "That's much better."

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Cast dancing lights. If a concentration check is necessary, then inform me OCC and I'll post it.

[The Vorpal Tribble]

Chaim Hyman
Chaim is a large, lanky man of a little over 6 feet and stands straight as a post. His skin is deeply sun-darkened and practically glowing with health. Frizzy brown hair spills out from beneath the brim of his black, widely brimmed hat and is tied into a tail that hangs to his shoulders. His face is lean and angular, though much of it is hidden behind a thick, neatly trimmed and brushed beard that hangs halfway to his chest. His intelligent, mild eyes are a pleasant light brown and crows feet crinkle at the corners from years of squinting against the sun. They have a noticable sparkle to them though that belies his stern-seeming countenance. His leathery hands are incredibly large even for his size and are thick with scar and callous, though incredibly clean. In fact his entire appearance is meticulously neat. Though weathered and a bit rugged in appearance he nevertheless exudes a gentlemanly feel. His movements are lively and energetic and many have said it is as if he is always about to leap into a dance.

He wears a long-sleeved, white shirt with brass buttons and cufflinks, and black cotton pants held up by a pair of straps that rise from his waist to his shoulders. They are tucked into his sturdy, calf-high boots, that gleam as if shined.

-=-=-=-=-

Chaim is walking briskly from the stables with his face turned up to the sun and his hat momentarily removed and held in a hand. Though only a faint smile plays at his lips, his face is radiant, more so than any in the streets, as he feels the play of warmth across his features.

In his pleasure he doesn't notice the danger until he is falling backwards along the edge of the pit. He lands on his shoulders and sinks in as he is pelted with thick mud that covers him partially over.

The man coughs and sputters, heaving mud by the mouthfuls as he turns his head to the side. He otherwise seems calm enough, and slowly wriggles from the hold of wet earth.
He kneels over and spits several more times as he peers around into the gloomy depths, his eyes having difficulty adjusting from bright sun to sudden shadow.

He pulls back one mud-slathered sleeve and wipes his lips relatively clean on his bare arm. He lets out a piercing whistle several times and then bellows out in a deep baritone, "LONG JOHN! COME ALONG OLD FELLOW!"

This brings on another fit of coughing, ejecting more swallowed mud.

He stands back up straight then as the woman calls out about her baby.

"Where are you, mother?" he responds, "Let us hear you!"

[LurkerinthePlaygnd]

Rach Diggerson a slim, fit man of average height with short brown hair, in his early twenties. Wears a worn backpack over a light colored work shirt tucked into light brown trousers.

Rach awoke with the sun. Normally that wouldn't be unusual, but for the past month the sun had refused to show itself, preferring to do it's business behind sullen, soggy clouds.

Luckily for Rach, he had been able to keep himself occupied doing repairs on the interior of Drim's gaol. The long rain had forced him to put another outdoor job on hold. Maybe now we can get that addition under roof, he mused as his thoughts turned to the project he had abandoned.

When he had finished his morning meal, he turned to his mother and said, "I think I'll go wake up Jarl. I'll bet he's still snoozing.... probably sleep right through this fine morning if I don't go bang on his door. Tell Peeny I'll come fetch her at lunch." He had promised that he would take his younger sister out for a picnic as soon as it stopped raining.

After kissing his Ma on the cheek, he slung his pack over his shoulder and walked out into the bright morning sun. Rach took a moment to let the warmth of the bright orb wash over him. Anxious to put the day to good use, he was soon on his way to his coworker's house.

He walked at his usual quick, slightly bouncy pace and was soon at Jarl's. After knocking for a couple of minutes, he finally heard Jarl's gruff baritone, "Old on, 'old on." After the sound of fumbling with the lock the door opened revealing a bleary eyed, craggy face. What the 'eck s'at yella' thing up 'ere?" Jarl said while shielding his eyes.

"I think it's called the sun," Rach said with a chuckle. After exchanging pleasantries Rach said "Go gather up the crew and meet me at the addition. I want to have a look at the roof beams t'day...make sure they weathered the weather."

"Sure thing, boss."

Rach turned and left his coworker, his mind already turning to the job at hand. As he turned down a side street he noticed a knot of people up ahead of him. As he got closer he saw that the crowd was enthralled by a rather charming bear wearing a red vest and dancing to a fast tempoed song. 1-2-3, 1-2-3, went the beat. As the bear began a turn in time with the tune, the ground opened at Rach's feet.

He felt himself begin to fall, but it was arrested as soon as it began. As he landed softly in the muck below, he thought to himself, Thank you Arbus.

Rach heard the commotion and the yelling and decided not to add his voice to the din. He heard a firm voice attempt to take control of the situation and at he mention of mining tools, he thought of the tools in his pack. If I can climb out of here I can use my block and tackle to help pull these people out of here

Rach tried to make his way over to where the sound of the person was taking charge.

[Irrealist]

Arfondt
A chubby man in his late twenties, dressed in heavy robes

Oh yes, the baby... "Where are you miss?" Arfondt yelled in response to the second cry. He lifted up the seam of his long blue robe and tried to shuffle his way towards the voice, his feet testing the ground. When the dancing lights appeared, he smiled.
"Thank you, that was very helpful" he said, turning to have a look at the caster. Don't I know her? The face seems familiar... He continues his way towards the mother and her baby. He smiles at her reassuringly. "Hello, my name is Arfondt. Can I help you?"

[The Glyphstone]

Kylen O'Corrival
A massive, hefty man, almost six and a half feet and several hundred pounds of muscle. Dressed in a leather jerkin over ordinary clothes, but toting an equally large greatsword on his back. Displayed prominently embroidered on the jerkin is the holy emblem of Kord, as it is on the bronze pendant he wears.

Heya there, now what's this all about?"
Wobbling to keep his balance on the uneven footing, he looks around at the chaos ensuing.
"Well, ain't that just lovely now - so much for my morning pick-me-up..."

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Balance, mystery (1d20=8, 1d4=3)

[Mr the Geoff]

Ulf Ironbeard
A now dishevelled and muddy mail clad dwarf holding a sturdy looking rope

Ulf tugs on the rope trying to test whether the grappling hook has found a good hold then, seemingly satisfied, turns his attention to the others in here with him. "That'll do for now. Right! I'll be needing a volunteer to shimmy up this here rope and tie it off a bit more secure at the top. I'll stay down here and rig up some sorta harness for the lady wi the babby and anyone else who don't think they can handle climbing a rope"

With that Ulf digs into his pack for a hammer, 2 pitons and a second length of rope. He hammers both pitons into any stable piece of wall he can find, then ties the free end of the rope with the grappling hook to one, and uses his second rope to tie himself to the other. His hands work almost automatically as his eyes scan the others for a volunteer.

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with these silk ropes I have a +15 on use rope checks so, unless I am doing something fiddly with a rope (like making a harness for a woman with a baby) I won't clog the thread with rolls unless I need to. I will be taking 10 if I can.

[LurkerinthePlaygnd]

Rach Diggerson a slim, fit man of average height with short brown hair, in his early twenties. Wears a worn backpack over a light colored work shirt tucked into light brown trousers.

Rach made his way over to the voice, aided by a sudden glow that had appeared shortly after he'd fallen. In the dim light he recognized the dwarf as one of the first on the scene when the mine had collapsed on his father some years ago."I'll do the climbing. If I can find something to tie off to, I have a pulley that might speed up the process."

[PolkaBear]

The hole is ringed at the top with the heavy cobblestones that compose the surface of the street and the slabs that form the gutter. The pit drops nearly virtically from there for about five feet; then the clutter of rubble that has fallen into the hole begins. The hole itself is roughly oblong, oriented parallel to the street below where the gutter once ran, and twelve feet long at its widest.

The muddy rubble on which you stand slopes significantly from the deep side (where the woman stands) to the shallow side (where Ulf has tossed his rope), with a difference in depth of five feet from one end to the other.

The rushing sound has rapidly increased in volume and water has begin to seep into the pit, thinning the mud.

There are noises from above indicating an increased level of organization among the onlookers. An attempted rescue is forming; and others are asking what's going on in the sinkhole.

As he attempted to cross to where the mother knelt sobbing, Arfondt's injured ankle betrayed him. He tripped and sprawled. He saw that he stumbled over a humanoid figure lying on its side in the mud. It is possibly the man who was calling out earlier. Kayte's lights provide enough illumination to determine that it is, indeed, a man wearing a red shirt.

Ulf, aided by Rach (who was beginning to panic at the sudden collapse of the earth--bad memories), worked frantically to secure their escape before the hole lost its stability. He has by this point tied himself to a piton and is beginning to construct a harness.

Chaim tries to comfort the hysterical woman. Through her nearly-incoherent cries, you determine that her child had toddled off to watch the bear, and so was not caught in the collapse.

Erwin's attempt to climb was successful--at first. When he tried to ascend the sheer section of the hole, the stone he was using as a grip came loose with a sucking sound. He tumbled back to the ground. [OOC: Take 3 nonlethal damage. You are now lying either prone or supine.]

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I've decided to split my post in two. You can now post, if you desire; but no significant actions until after my next post.

[The Glyphstone]

(Umm...what about me?)

[PolkaBear]

Kord's paladin stands there muttering about the loss of his eye-opener. He considers the possibility of tossing fallen cobblestones into a pile so as to create a ramp, but discards it as impractical.

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Sorry, Glyphstone. I didn't want to assume too much about your character's (re)action.

In the end, I only had to use one of those d4's.

[Mr the Geoff]

Ulf Ironbeard Short, muddy beardy dwarf

a pulley eh? now why didn't I think to pack one of them myself?. "Alright, up ye go lad"

Ulf looks down at the sprawling forms of Arfondt, Erwin and the red-shirted man. "Could someone check if that man's alright" he says, pointing at redshirt. "The rest of you try to make your way up to the top o the heap"

Satisfied that the rope with the grappling hook is secure for now, Ulf lets go of it and throws the free end of the rope he has attached himself to the wall with down towards the bottom end of the rubble, shifting his weight to brace against anyone using it to climb, with the piton there as a failsafe in case he loses his own footing.

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Hope that made sense.
One 50ft rope is secured with the grappling hook at the top and a piton at the bottom. The other is tied round Ulf and the second piton, with the free end thrown down towards the people downhill.

Hope that's not too much of a significant action for you

[Irrealist]

Arfondt
A chubby man in his late twenties, dressed in heavy robes

Arfondt stumbled and fell, feeling something soft and meaty below him. He got on his knees and wiped his face with a muddy sleeve. Then he looked for what tripped him and recognized the man. He shook him softly. "Hello? Can you hear me?"
Antuin shook his head and furrowed his brows, trying hard to remember something. Then he closed his eyes and intonated: "A'noinsholnithkiraranthir"

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Tried a Minor Word of Nurturing. Truespeak 18 is a success only if the guy has only 1 HD (still haven't found out how to link single posts)

[tgva8889]

Kayte Mursai

"Well, it seems you got stuck in this mess too, eh?" she says, holding out her hand to Arfondt and moving the torches so that they float behind her instead of encircling her. "I'm..." Wait, don't I know you? You look familiar... "Kayte Mursai, at your service."

Her face and clothes are covered in dirt and mud, but she is otherwise just as she would be if she'd been working in the Emporium, classic work robes and all. Her eyes show more character than her clothes, bright and thoughtful as they spin in her head. Her light brown hair is completly ruffled out of the bun she has it in when at work, and falls just a little beyond her shoulders. She smiles in a way that says "get me the heck out of here".

"A seemingly terrible position we've landed ourselves in, haven't we, Mr. Arfondt." Pushing herself into a more mobile position than sitting on the now fairly muddy ground, Kayte smiles at her "new" friend and notices the man he tripped over. She watches him speak his foreign speech with great curiosity.

[Corinthian]

Erwin

Confused a little bit for his failed attempt, Erwin now decides to stand up and tries to asses the situation. His clothes seem dirty and everything seems normal. No internal injuries.

"Alright, everyone alright? Yeah..." He spoke lightly, almost talking to himself.

He then proceeds to attend the man with the red shirt and looks at the man in heavy robes. "Oi... Is he alright?"

[LurkerinthePlaygnd]

Rach Diggerson: a slim, fit man of average height with short brown hair, in his early twenties. Wears a worn backpack over a light colored work shirt tucked into light brown trousers. He is remarkably clean with the exception of his boots.

Rach felt the panic begin to return. His throat tightened and he found it hard to swallow. It was a feeling he hadn't had in years; not since that fateful day when his father died. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, and a cold sweat begin to form on his brow. Calm down Rocky. You need to keep a cool head, he thought, addressing himself in the third person as he was wont to do when he was nervous. He closed his eyes momentarily and took a few deep breaths to steady his nerves. Relax, you'll not do anyone any good if you don't relax.

Regaining his composure somewhat, Rach said to the dwarf, "I'm ready. I'll let you know when the block and tackle are secure."

[The Vorpal Tribble]

Chaim is a large, lanky man of middle-age a little over 6 feet in height. His skin is deeply sun-darkened and practically glowing with health. Frizzy brown hair spills out from beneath the brim of his black, widely brimmed hat and is tied into a tail that hangs to his shoulders.

He is very, VERY muddy.

"Oh, she will be right as r..." Chaim begins and then closes his mouth as he realizes that phrase would be in poor taste. "Just thank the stars that she did not come in sheself."

He extends his arm, "Come along with me, Mother, we will get out of this and to your wee one."

"LONG JOHN!" he calls, "Answer me if you hear it!"

[PolkaBear]

In the glow of the dancing lights it is clear that there are nine of you--if anyone bothered to count--in the sinkhole. The fallen man groans and begins to sit up, strengthened by Arfondt's utterance. Sir Kylen, with Erwin's help, assists the man to his knees.

The childless mother seems to take strength from the aura of peace exuded by the farmer. She nods tearfully and clings to him, apparently overcome by hiccups.

Arfondt nods to Kayte and uses her help to raise himself out of the mud. Erwin picks up an item that had fallen from the scholar's robes and returns it to him.

Ulf gestures urgently to the others, motioning them over to the rope. Rach tugs on the rope a final time and then plants a foot in the wall to ascend.

* * * * *

Earlier that morning, and about a quarter-mile away, the rocky wall of an aquifer succumbed to the uncharacteristic hydraulic pressure it was experiencing because of the extreme rainfall. Fissures formed, allowing the excess pressure to siphon off. This gave the water new channels through the substrata as it made its way to equilibrium. The force of the escaping fluid enlarged the cracks in the original aquifer, increasing the outflow.

As the water emptied into new areas, a chain reaction of sorts was created: other aquifers were overwhelmed, and the new channels ran where the city engineers never intended. With the sewer systems already at their limit, the excess flow was forced to continue through rock and stone as it sought escape.

Not all of the substrata was solid bedrock, however. These areas were more yielding; so the water pushed its way through and swept the solid content along with it. As the flow ebbed or changed its course, pockets of air were created which lacked the supportive properties of solid earth. Thus were sinkholes created.

The raging underwater river has not completely subsided, however. Now it has found its way back to the cavity it had created under the street...

* * * * *

The seepage into the sinkhole quickly became slippage, as the unstable mixture of mud and rock once again felt the hydraulic forces that had originally created it. As everyone scrambled for the rope and safety, one wall of the hole began to shift, seeming almost to melt, and the lower end of the pit was now under a foot of water. The murky water was moving, the current crosswise to the orientation of the sinkhole. Once the current grabbed hold of a corner, it quickly began to undermine the rest of the area.

The entire base began to move and slide down toward the water. Only Chaim and the woman were able to grab on to the two individuals anchored by ropes; the others were held victim to the accelerating descent.

Ulf, Rach, Chaim, and the woman looked on in horror as the other five rode the moving surface down into the water and out into the black gap created by the water's suction.

* * * * *

"Cutscenes":

ONLY FOR THE EYES OF: Arfondt, Sir Kylen, Kayte, Erwin, and the man:

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You tumble into each other as the slope begins to move, becoming entagled in each other and enmired in the slimy muck. Your panic at being unable to move toward the waiting ropes--just out of reach when you began your descent--is compounded by the thundering of the water. You slide.

As the torrent has once again undermined this area, it has eaten out a section of the wall where it flows. When you finally reach the water, its pressure pushes you (along with the mud and rock) into this black mouth. You expect that this is the end.

You do not expect to see a dim light ahead of you.

Mere seconds after you are swept into the water, you fetch up hard against a wall, pressed by the current. The light comes from a gap--judging from the airflow and the silhouette--not even an arm's reach above you.

ONLY FOR THE EYES OF: Ulf, Rach, Chaim, and the woman:

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You shout in dismay as the the others are swept away by the rapidly increasing current. It has now filled the entire pit, and its movement tugs at you. Rach begins to climb, with the woman holding his belt and attempting to follow. Ulf anchors Chaim to prevent the other man from being swept away as well.

The woman loses her grip scarcely a few feet up and splashes back into the water. Ulf lets go of the rope, trusting his knotwork, and grabs her with that hand before she can be caught by the strengthening current.

Decision from Rach: do you continue up the rope or descend to help the woman? You do not judge that there is enough time to rig the block and tackle.

I need a decision from Rach before I continue.

[LurkerinthePlaygnd]

Rach Diggerson: a slim, fit man of average height with short brown hair, in his early twenties. Wears a worn backpack over a light colored work shirt tucked into light brown trousers. He is remarkably clean with the exception of his boots.

"Come on lady, hold on to my belt. I'll have ya' out o' here in no time." Rach took a couple tentative steps, testing the firmness of the muddy wall. He tried not to think of the swiftly rising water as he pulled on the rope. After only three or four steps he felt the woman slip from his belt and watched helplessly over his shoulder as she tumbled back into the pit.

He saw that the dwarf, already weighed down by the muddy, bearded man, was able to reach out and grab the woman. Rach fought down the urge to flee this sucking maw and lowered himself back down into the hole to give whatever aid he could. "Maybe we could tie her off so she won't get carried away," he said to the dwarf, almost shouting over the noise of the rising torrent.

[The Vorpal Tribble]

Chaim is a large, lanky man of a little over 6 feet and stands straight as a post. His skin is deeply sun-darkened and practically glowing with health. Frizzy brown hair spills out from beneath the brim of his black, widely brimmed hat and is tied into a tail that hangs to his shoulders. His face is lean and angular, though much of it is hidden behind a thick, neatly trimmed and brushed beard that hangs halfway to his chest. His intelligent, mild eyes are a pleasant light brown and crows feet crinkle at the corners from years of squinting against the sun.

"Hi there!" Chaim calls futiley as the others are whisked out of sight. He bears his teeth a moment and shakes his head. His grip on the woman tightens as he makes for the rope.

Hanging to the dwarf, he passes the woman up and kneels down slightly to battle the water.

He then glances up into the sky and sighs slightly as he closes his eyes.

"Of the pact and breath with the rolling gold, I bid thee come and givest your Father aid." he murmers, digging his hands into the mud and pressing a muddy thumb to his forehead.

There is suddenly a piercing cry and some creature dives down from above and into the pit. It beats its wings powerfully to slow its descent and splashes into the mud.

The creature appears as a clydesdale in body, though it has the wings, head, and raptor's talons of a giant prairie falcon.

"I thank thee." Chaim says, bowing his head to the creature and leaning against it. "Climb on quickly, Mother!"

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Concentration check = 20 to give up a 2nd level spell slot to cast Summon Nature's Ally II and bring forth a hippogriff

[Mr the Geoff]

Ulf Ironbeard A soaking dwarf hanging upside down with a rope around his waist, and his hand clenched around the hand of a woman

Hanging upside down from his rope anchor, His beard slapping at his face and the roar of the water all around him, Ulf reaches down with his other hand to try to pull the woman up, two handed, so she can get a grip on his body, beard, haversack strap or anything else to help pull herself up within reach of Rach.

"I got another rope I can tie her off with, but I am out of free hands. Let me get her out of the water first then worry 'bout the rest

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Strength check

That's a 13 on a strength check to lift the woman clear of the water

[PolkaBear]

Back to our regularly scheduled cinematic feature:

For Chaim, Ulf, Rach, and the woman:

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Soon after Rach descends, keeping a firm grasp on the rope, you hear a shout from above. Two other ropes drop from the rim of the hole and splash into the mud. They are followed by Chaim's summoned hippogryph. Rach loops one rope around the woman and ties it securely; then Ulf lifts her out of the water and sets her on the hippogryph. While she's being lifted, Rach ties the other rope around Chaim. The water is by this time waist-deep and swirling with a strong pull.

"A'right!" Ulf said to Chaim. "Let's get you--"

At that moment his shout was drowned by a slurping groan as a large section of the wall gave way. The hippogryph lunged and leaped into the air, its wings straining to lift it above the waters. Ulf, on the other hand, finds himself caught in the muddy rush since the piton had been lodged in the compromised portion.

Rach clings desperately to the rope, the grappling hook on the upper rim remaining, for the moment, secure. [roll=Strength Check]1d20+2[/roll]. He just manages to keep his head above the water now pouring in.

The rope to which Chaim is tied was apparently secured stably aboveground. Unfortunately, there is enough length in the rope that he is submerged; and the force of the water as it rushes past attempts to keep him there.

Arfondt, Sir Kylen, Kayte, Erwin, and the man:

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Sir Kylen is the first to drag himself out of the water, the divine power of his god shielding him from some of the water's hindering force. Erwin and Kayte are both within arm's reach, and the giant man quickly pulls them out, too. The three of them hear the confused shouts of Arfondt and the man.

"The others! Still alive!"

By the dim light, they can marely make out the other two figures. Arfondt is in danger of being swept around the curve and down, where the water has apparently found its outlet; the other man's leg has been caught between two rocks at an odd angle, but his head is above water to the left of the gap.

Arfondt seems to be in the most immediate danger, but he's beyond arm's reach of anyone in the gap. In the end, Sir Kylen braces Erwin enough that the young man can overreach and grab on to the scholar's robe. Then they are both hauled in. Retrieving the other man is a simpler matter. Then they sit panting, thanking their gods with what breath their lungs can seize.

Rach:

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With the collapse of the wall, it was as if the nine hells disgorged. Thankfully, you are able to maintain your grip on the rope.

Chaim:

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You are spinning like an angler's lure at the end of your rope. It is preventing you from being swept away, but it is also preventing you from reaching the surface or from orienting yourself. You are occasionally pelted by small stones kicked up by the water.

As I see it, you have several obvious options (you may come up with something else): try to fight the rope and the current, hoping to break through to the surface by swimming; untie yourself and swim against the current; try to pull yourself along the rope, fighting the current by sheer strength; or do nothing and hope that those above can pull you up.

Unfortunately, none of them seem like very good options.

Arfondt, Sir Kylen, Kayte, Erwin, and the man:

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As you catch your breath, the noise of the water increases. Some of it begins spilling out over the edge of the gap through which you had crawled (I'll describe it once the intro is settled), so you quickly get to your feet to avoid getting wet. Wetter.

Suddenly, the end of a rope whips through the gap and slaps soggily against the wall. You are all caught by surprise; but Erwin has the presence of mind to grab it before it disappears. It gives him a fierce tug.

"Help me pull it in! We might need it in this place."

All together, you begin to reel it in. It fights you, making the work difficult. An echoing cough from the other side of the gap pricks your ears; you redouble your efforts, knowing now that speed could be the difference between life and death.

You hear the cough again from the other side of the gap; Arfondt calls out an encouraging word to let the person on the other end know that they're trying to help.

The rope goes taut and will no longer budge.

Ulf:

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By the iron bones of Moradin! This could be the end.

You are swept, like the others, into the underground flood. The higher water level does not dump you on the stony ledge as (unbeknownst to you) it had the others. It sweeps you through a curve and down toward--

You stop with a jerk. You feel you would have been split in two, did you not have a dwarf's thick build, as the rope caught around your middle. You flail about, trying to reach the surface before your breath gives out, and you sting your hand against an outcropping. You claw at it desperately; and it gives you just enough leverage to pull yourself into an air pocket.

You breathe a word of thanks to the All-Father and blink the water out of your eyes. The air pocket you're using disappears just downcurrent, but stretches back for at least a short distance before another rock pillar blocks your sight. It seems as if there's even faint light reflecting of the frothing surface.

You inhale some of that frothing surface: you must press your face against the stone ceiling in order to use the air pocket, and the rampaging waters splash and tumble. You sputter and cough.

There's a tug on the rope, different in quality than the ceaseless tugging of the water's friction. Another tug, back upcurrent. The next tug submerges you. You fight against it, just trying to regain the air pocket; but you're at the mercy of the water and the rope.

You see dancing lights in your eyes as your breath runs out; but you break the surface again and inhale deeply. This action sets off another bout of coughing. You battle to inhale life-giving breath and at the same time expel what's in your lungs. Your coughing echoes through the rush of the water. Your feet find a ledge of sorts and you brace yourself with your head above water.

The tugging soon comes into direct opposition to the force that stopped you before. The tugs continue, however, more sustained and steady as the source of the tugging seems to become more determined. All by themselves, the tugs threaten to rob you of breath.

"Jussa moment," you wheeze. Another tug. You gasp in a breath when the pressure eases. "Wait! If there's someone there, just wait! You'll pull me in half."

Arfondt, Sir Kylen, Kayte, Erwin, and the man:

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As you prepare yourselves for another pull on the rope, you hear a noise like a wheezing voice. There must be someone out there! You pull again, with no better effect: the rope seems to be stuck. As you're about to pull again, you hear, "Wait! If there's someone there, just wait! You'll pull me in half."

Ulf, Arfondt, Sir Kylen, Kayte, Erwin, and the man:

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Ulf takes stock of the situation. If it weren't for the duress of the past few minutes, he would have known immediately what was wrong; but the answer is not long in coming.

"Give me some slack. Hullo? Slack. In the rope." The slack comes, which indicates that there is someone intelligent on the other end.

Given a small amount of relief from the current by the way the water flows around a bend here, Ulf is able to pull himself back upstream toward the end of the rope that's stuck. "Hold 'er steady, now, he commands those on the other end. With a deep breath and a firm hold on the rope, he plunges into the water to trace it down. The piton probably snagged on something. Thank the All-Father it did, too. It should be in reach...aha. He wrapped one strong arm around a rock and reached down with the other to pry the piton out of its crevice.

(This was the same crevice, incidentally, that had caught the red-shirted man's leg.)

Relieved of the constant pressure of Ulf's weight, the piton slid loose easily. Ulf broke the surface and called out to reel him in.

The others do so quickly, relieved to see the dwarf's still-muddy beard as he is pulled through the gap.

[Mr the Geoff]

Ulf Ironbeard A Dwarf, soaked to the skin, soaking hair and beard clinging to his scuffed mail shirt

Ulf coughs, wheezes, coughs again and finally vomits about a half gallon of water over the ledge before, eventually, looking up at the other faces "Thanks for saving my life, here's hoping I return the favour by getting you out of here"

He then concentrates on untying himself, coiling the rope, retrieving his sole remaining piton from the end of it and stowing everything away in his pack.

If he has time he will look around the space he is in, assessing how sturdy the stonework looks and using his intuition to work out how far below street level they are.

[The Vorpal Tribble]

Chaim a wet, bearded fellow dangling from a rope underwater like really big bait.

Chaim swings back and forth dizzily upon the rope, clutching tightly with hands that don't even feel the rough fibers. He grips his lifeline with all he is worth and tries to pull himself up, hand over hand to reach the surface.