Tychris' Tomb of Annihilation IC

[Tychris1]

With the help of his wildfire soul Atuar manages to displace the rocky shell of the shrine and unearth the interior. A statue of a giant snail looms before you. In place of antennae, it has five pseudopods ending in rocky clubs. Along the walls, six iron keys hang in small niches above stone plinths. Behind the statue, a carved pedestal in a wide alcove has a keyhole set into its base.

[Tychris1]

As Aleandrae enters into the Shrine proper, a small band of pale monsters peel themselves from the back of the statue's shell, and amble forward in a haphazard dash. Their claws out and their fangs bared they prepare themselves for blood!

[Othniel]

Aleandrae

"Ugh, do you even have a name?" Aleandrae wove magical contempt into her words as she looked at the closest creature to her right before backing up through her comrades. "Go get 'em, tiger," she said, patting Siward's shoulder.

Spoiler: OOC

Show

Vicious Mockery for (2d4)[5] damage to the close thingy on the right. Move to Siward's right and give him a bardic inspiration die.

[Tychris1]

Smearing the Ghouls with Fire and Fury the violence is over as swiftly as it started, the newly earned tranquility of the shrine only shattered when Lyndal puts a key into the lock, and manifests rays of damning light that scorch her and Siward. After much futzing and theorizing, contrasting all options, and a bit of reaching you discover that the six keys unite to form a single key design that with a few minutes of search bear useful fruit. Key in hand Jack unlocks the statue's hidden puzzle box!

Venturing out of the Shrine you head south, curving along the edge of the river, and retracing your steps from yesterday. Following the main road you take shattered stairs down to the rapidly warming corner of Omu. A great bridge spans the distance from the mainland to the lava beyond, where strange huddled figures can be seen in the distance, and percussive beats fill the air with popping sulfurous bubbles for ambiance. Tumbledown ruins cling to the lip of a rift overlooking a lake of bubbling lava. A single Grung is bound by vines and restrained on a raft in the center of this desolate cliff where a tribe of vegepygmies encircle them and perform a ritualistic dance.