Wight Investigation, part 1
Log Info
- Title: Wight Investigation, part 1
- Emitter: Whirlpool
- Characters: Barclaiigh, Shilde, Paenitia, Ravenstongue, Skielstregar, Vaera, Lyme
- Place: The Mountain Mines
- Time: Tuesday, June 14, 2022, 9:57 PM
- Summary: Trying to find more of Heth's minions before it's too late! The powers that be have assembled a half-dozen of the well-intentioned and mercenary-minded to further fortify the defenses of the Alexandros region against the tide of wights. Given the option between spelunking into the city's sewers and an old, sprawling mining concern the troupe picks the latter. The airship ride is brief but results in another pair of hands; lucky number seven. The mining town is abandoned. Indeed, the mines seem abandoned. It's all beginning to look like a wild goose chase (without the wild geese) when some of the group hear what could be active machinery below. They employ a methodical approach in their exploration and eventually come face-to-face with the source of the excavation noises: giant, burrowing slugs.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Appearing =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Barclaiigh 4'5" 202 Lb Mountain Dwarf Male A thick tree-trunk of a dwarf. Wavy auburn hair, loose traveling clothes. Shilde 4'4" 160 Lb Khazad-Aul Female Tall for a dwarf, long blonde hair in a thick braid, big blue eyes. Paenitia 3'0" 34 Lb Halfling Female A Lucht knight, dark skinned in bold feathery finery. Ravenstongue 5'0" 99 Lb Half-Elf Female Short half-elf girl with violet eyes and black hair. Skielstregar 7'2" 330 Lb Sith-Makar Male A brilliantly silver scale with fangs and empty eyes. Vaera 7'0" 262 Lb Sith-Makar Female A tall, dark red Makari with a metallic leg. Lyme 7'2" 435 Lb Orc Butch Black-skinned oruch of suitable stature -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--= -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= As the GM =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Whirlpool Otyugh I am stinky! -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=
With the wight threat seemingly contained outside the city walls, for the time being, work is now going into ensuring that any avenues that the beings might have to get in the city are closed off. Work has already begun on sewer fortification, for example, placing undead-repelling wards throughout the sewers. Other efforts are being made to head to the mountains to investigate all the mines, seeking to ensure that the wights never breached any of them from beyond as a means by which to sneak into the region unnoticed. It's a big countryside but most don't believe the wights took a typically overland approach.
You have the option of aiding in each of these endeavours. Which would you prefer?
A little red knight encased in full plate armour, with a grinning visor, seems contemplative. The dramatic 'I'm thinking' pose is one where she has her gauntletted hand tugging on the faux goatee of her masculine mask. She's also mid-stride, as if she's already chosen a direction.
The little woman's mirth is clear, "I will be the bobbing head in the sewers, and brave Ramirez will not risk his feathers getting the stink of the ages. I am for the flying in the mountains."
So it's Sewers or mines, not Mines or overland. 'Hole in the ground' vs 'different hole in the ground' isn't much of a choice.
It would seem the sewers were handled, heavily warded, but the mines were likely targets and the overland not protected at all. It might be a request for the party to finish the sewers, with the mines a likely second and overland not being worth checking.
Going to the mountains would be a good idea, to determine where needs to be reinforced.
The task is either 'help with the warding in the sewers' or 'check out the mines'. Nothing has been spotted overland by airship so far, and those are way better than a handful of adventurers. For that job specifically.
"Ain't tryn'a oversell it'r nuthin' but y'all got me'n miss Shilde along. Miss Vaera, too." Barclaiigh is rather more-kempt than usual with his great, bushy bearded pulled into a big, frizzy braid and the same attention paid to his massive auburn mane. He tosses a calloused, sausage thumb between the redscaled sith-makar, the other Khazadi druid, and himself. "Reckon yer fancy-feathered fowl would prefer the fresh air, too, miss Paenitia."
The stocky, heavily-tattooed shaman settles back down before he realizes he didn't clearly state his preference. He half-stands and clears his throat, "That is t'say I think the mines'r leanin' towards our partic-a-ler specialties."
The dwarf gives a goofy smiles and settles back down again.
"Yes, the mines." Paenitia confirms, "Ramirez will at least wait for me outside those. The sewers, he go back to the stables to have the drink and wait for me to clean up."
Skielstregar, having recovered from his near death experience, is ready to get back into the fight. The armored shining silverscale makari leans against his ink-stained halberd and gives a slow nod and rumble. "Yesss... the minessss sssound better sssuited for usss. Bessides, thisss one doesssn't think they'd be well sssuited to putting up wards that harm the unlife."
He shifts uncomfortably, glancing away.
"Don't oversell anything, yes. And don't underestimate the job just because of who and how many people we have going on it." Vaera chuffs. "That being said, the mines seem to be the best fit for a job. If we can find signs of them there, then they likely have trails. and if we could bring back signs of them being there as well, the wizards in town could use them as focus for divination spells to further keep track of them."
"You are feeling up to this Skielstregar? I noticed you were a bit bruised after training the other day."
"Órale!" greets a voice in the direction of Dame Paenitia.
It's coming from Pothy, who is sitting on the shoulder of the lady some know as Ravenstongue, others as Cor'lana. She waves in greeting as she looks around the room. "Right," she says. "In the interest of not harming Skielstregar, and in the interest of being able to get my wedding back on track sooner rather than later... The mines sound like we might have more of an impact on the threat of the wights."
The half-elf looks a bit strange without her glasses, but she's not squinting or anything. Maybe she really didn't need them after all.
The good news is that getting a trip out to the mountains is relatively easy! With all the airships circling the area, you're more than able to get aboard one and head out to your designated coordinates. The mine in question, the Gawp Mines, is one of the older sets in the region, having been in continual operation for close to seventy years without coming near depleting its reserve of copper. The only thing delaying production here is the depths it descends to, which makes it a good candidate for the kind of concerns that the government has right now, and thus why you're being deposited in the abandoned mining village outside it. Empty buildings and rail tracks to the mine are visible here. You just need to follow the trail to get to the mine itself. It's windy here. Very.
Windy, like 'heckin' windy, and not windy, like curvy.
Debarking the airship, the first thing of note are the incredible winds. Ramirez ends up gripping the ground with his talons, his feathers blown to the side. He squawked a few greetings to Pothy, is vocalizations right now might mean, 'this is fun, I want to fly, but the mistress won't let me'.
Or, just be bird sounds.
The little red knight herself, Paenitia, hunkers down on her saddle, "the good news, they will not smell us coming!" Not that wights are known for that.
She signals her brave steed, they start forward to the mine and a wind-break, "Okay. Let us see the thing!"
Skielstregar blinks at Vaera. "Thiss one isss fine," he grumble-chuffs, looking at the ground. Man that spot suuuure looks interesting...
And they're off!
He plods behind Paenitia, dead silver eyes squinted to narrow slits to ward against the wind. Thankfully the bite and chill didn't really phase him too much. ".. it'sss wimdy..." he murmurs, half munching on trail mix.
Ensorceled wooden plates rattle as Barclaiigh stretches his arms out wide after setting foot back on solid ground. Porter lopes alongside the dwarf, wearing boiled leather plates covered in matte metal studs. Truffles, too, is along for the ride in spirit as usual, the tusks sliding a bit as the khazadi man trods along.
The druid is squat and heavy enough that the winds just make him squint a bit. The bear is big and broad but powerfully built, lowering his head and turning it ot one side to avoid the worst of the gusts. Both have capes that flap out madly behind them; Porter's is short and fitted more like the top half of a caparison.
"Ain't carryin' no light fer the mines on account of good-aul peepers." His grins goofily between Cor'lana and Paenitia. "Y'all got torches or the like? Magic?" His tiny eyes glance between the two sith and Shilde, taking stock. Then he pats the bear. The green-glowing spear stays on his back.
"Fair warnin' that I spent most'a my years out from under a mountain... but dwarf's dwarf, reckon. In the blood." He adjusts his wooden circlet and hoists up his fancy new belt.
Shilde says, "Is it too late to vote for the sewers?"
Cor'lana is suddenly glad she chose to braid her hair today instead of letting it all hang out. It's much too windy, although Pothy's not complaining, given that he is a bird, although he seems to commiserate with the brave steed Ramirez regarding their mistresses not letting the alabaster avians stretch their wings. Clearly a crime against birdkind. There should be something in the bird law books about it.
"I want a lawyer," Pothy says, imitating a voice he's heard in the Theatre District.
Cor'lana just blinks at him. "What for? Why? -- Why am I even asking?"
Pothy whistles at her for a moment and Cor'lana rolls her eyes. "No, Pothy, you can't just sue me for the amount of snacks you think I owe you, and I don't think Integrity will agree that you have a case. You have a few tons of snacks at home. Just... deal with it, okay? The sooner we get the wight problem solved, the sooner the wedding's on and then you can gorge yourself happy on wedding cake. We'll even order a special Pothy wedding cake just for you."
Pothy's blue eyes glisten. A cake? All for him? "Órale!" he says again.
Well, that's settled. "No torches on me, and I'm afraid I left my best source of magic light back home in bed," Cor'lana says with a grin.
Vaera finishes checking over her thunderbelcher, cycling a few rounds in and out several times, stoping to open it up at the side a few times, but she seems satisfied and stows the weapon away back in her coat.
"I will manage fine in the mines, or should at least." The red makari chuffs. "We will be on our way."
And with that she too falls into step, keeping an eye out on the area around them, and mind on any changes in scent on the wind.
'Ruaaaah!' Ramirez agrees, yes. It's not 'Órale', but the best he can muster. It's a matter for the bird lawyers. There should be snacks, and free flight, and missions which do not involve crawling into caves.
"Yes. I have the sunrod to mount on the shield." Paenitia answers Barclaiigh, "I long ago appreciate the joke they are making, to send the dark-blind to the darkness and the weighty to the flying."
GAME: Shilde casts Light. Caster Level: 7 DC: 14
Shilde was actually in favour of the sewer. She didn't have much of an argument aside from glowering when the decision was made to plumb the mines. A glower that hasn't entirely gone away. A glower and a general lack of conversational motivation; she's been more than content that Barclaiigh's been doing enough conversation for the both of them.
Even after the airship delivers the group, Shilde keeps her counsel mostly to herself.. and a welcome thing that is, too, for as her glower indicates, any words she has aren't likely to be pleasant.. and the glower just gets worse the closer they get to the mines. Her wordless answer to Barclaiigh's call for light, she fishes a smooth, dull grey stone from a pouch.. mutters an incantation.. then sets it aloft, hovering about her.
Lyme squats down, looking at the ground. Tracks, he can do tracks. He looks around, cracking his neck quietly. "Let's get to it -- the sooner we're done, the better."
GAME: Paenitia rolls perception: (14)+8: 22 GAME: Paenitia rolls 1d20+6: (12)+6: 18 (Ramirez Percep) GAME: Barclaiigh rolls Perception: (10)+15: 25 GAME: Ravenstongue rolls Perception+2: (18)+4+2: 24 GAME: Shilde rolls perception: (7)+14: 21 GAME: Shilde rolls 1d20+7: (17)+7: 24 (Rocky Percep) GAME: Skielstregar rolls perception: (14)+12: 26 GAME: Vaera rolls perception: (16)+12: 28 GAME: Lyme rolls perception: (8)+9: 17
"It look wide enough." Paenitia pats Ramirez along his neck, leaning in to encourage the bird-horse, "You will be fine. If the space is too tight, we stop and watch from there."
So far so good. A cursory examination of the township shows that there's nothing to it. It looks properly, and more importantly, well evacuated. There doesn't appear to be anyone left behind. No stubborn mules, or stubborn orcs, and best of all, no wights.
Soon, you're following the rail tracks up out of the town and into the mountain proper, finding yourselves before long standing at the edge of a great pit dug into the side of the mountain, with an opening travelling deeper. It all looks hastily abandoned. Once the order came in, the order came in and they stopped what they were doing. Rail cars full of mining equipment and copper ore sit near piles of dirt and more.
Again, all looks clear, and you've been able to more or less verify this with taking your time. No sign of wights *here*. it's entirely possible this may be a colossal waste of time. That'd be for the best, really.
This is as far as the large beasties can go. The town is inside the mountain, and just outside the entrance.
Skielstregar is busy searching not by sight, but by scent. Sticking his nose into buildings and minecarts, the silver makari searching for that familiar death. "Thissss place isss deserted. Up here at least," he reports.
"HOLA!" Paenitia shouts into the strip-mined abyss, aiming for an echo. "You are there? We come for you. Make it the easier fight and come out so we see you."
Ramirez turns his head, looking this way and that. Nothing leaps out at him, which is fine as far as the peacock-andalusian is concerned.
Pothy is behaving, which is to say he's helping Cor'lana out by looking around and peering at the people and environs around him. She presses her lips together as she looks around, cautiously inspecting rail cars and other things that could have wights waiting behind them.
"Hmm. Seems the coast is all clear up here... So far," Cor'lana calls out in general to her comrades.
GAME: Shilde casts Create Water. Caster Level: 7 DC: 14 GAME: Shilde casts Reduce Animal. Caster Level: 7 DC: 16
When Shilde sees the passage leading deeper into the mine and mountain, she scowls. Well, she was still scowling. So the new scowl is probably not noticeable. But she turns away from it, spending a little extra time... well, seeking would be the kind word for it. Looting probably the more accurate. Taking the time to find pots or basins or anything else that might hold water. The purpose becomes clear when she has them gathered, then waves her hands over them while muttering some hodgepodge of khazad and druidic. When the spells ends, a deluge of water falls into the various water holding vessels.. in addition to the immediate ground around them. Then she hauls out of her pack a wrapped haunch of meat, which she drops beside the water. Then she turns to her dog, the large, overly furred and far too good natured Rocky. "Looks like this's far as ye go, Rocky. Mind the area. If'n y'see trouble, make a racket... then get outta hear, aye?" The dog barks. One might even momentarily believe he understands her speech. Then she pats him fondly, before turning away to approach Paenitia and Ramirez.
The lady druid's scowl has returned as she regards the diminutive knight and her steed. "Like's not gonna start getting tight in there.. got some magiks which can let ye bring yer chicken in deeper. But ye'll wanna dismount first." She waits for assent and compliance.. then proceeds with the magic. A short few second later, and Ramirez has shrunk. Considerably.
'Ruaaawk!' Ramirez protests. The andalusian part of him is horse based, not chicken.
"I dismount!" Paenitia calls, prompting her ivory steed to extend a wing. She grabs her lances, warhammer and shield, and slides down.
Grounded, she watches as her peacock-andalusian hippogryph shrinks to a smaller size. She's bemused, he's on the startled side. His mistress is too large! Everything is.
Until she pets his neck, "Ha! You will be okay my friend, we can both try the mines pocket sized."
Barclaiigh looks past the abandoned carts on the track and the empty sheds and outbuilding built-in to the larger cave they occupy, running his hand under Porter's head to lift it. The druid leans into his furry friend briefly and then issues a stern, low-toned "ival" The black bear grunts and issues a tongue-click, padding around to get a sense for the immediate space. The wet nose bobs up and he sniffs, then he goes to find the edge of a cart and starts rubbing his butt against it. Little bits of dust and gravel shift free and fall to the cave floor. <unknown>
With a heavy sigh, Bar walks further in, smiling in spite of himself at Paenitia's challenge. He claps his hands together, rubs them vigorously, and then chants as he takes hold of his wooden token and boar's tusk fetish.
There's a quiet tearing sound, the subtle popping of bones shifting, tendons stretching, and everything reworking itself. Shortly there's a great cat in the dwarf's place, blue-black fur half lost to the shadows. Bleached white fur replicate the runic druid tattoos on his forepaws as he slinks around.
There's a low rumble that falls into a cough, his barbed tongue playing out in a U-shape. "Mm, leck, ugh," he's licking his chops. "Y'all ever smell somethin' so good y'can taste it? Bleck. Dang ol' dusty in here." The Barther complains before stretching his legs and jumping around to get accustomed to the fresh form.
Vaera stops to look down into the mine as everyone is investigating it. "Good. Ramirez will help in the mines." The red makari chuffs. "Though, wights are not deaf. We will need to be wary further down. If they are actually tunneling, they may be able to ambush us. And we should always keep a way out clear."
"They left in a hurry here, that is good. I wonder if any have a bag that could hold the copper ore. raw commodities will be valuable with the city locked down, and it may benefit the families of those evacuated from here, if it could be brought and sold."
"Only when I walk into the house and mamma has dinner on." Paenitia says cheerfully, petting Ramirez's neck. "Okay, I mount, give me the wing."
Ramirez shakes his head. She is huge. No. This will not do.
"You are the strong, the brave and the beautiful. Put out the wing so I may ride you Ramirez. The being smaller is not the criticism."
'Rauuuwwk'. He's not sure. He does offer a wing so the little knight can mount up on the much more manageabe bird-horse.
Mounted, the red knight shrugs, "they hear us, they do not hear us, it change little the way we will stumble over them."
Skielstregar is a bit busy watching all the magics go off as he shifts on his feet, his off putting polearm in hand. He shakes his head and mentions, "Yesss, Firebrand is right, a way out just in case. Remember, we're investigating, not total exterminating. Asss much asss this one wishessss it was the other way."
"Well, either way, I intend on staying close to everyone in the event I have to pop off a quickening spell and get us running out of the mines," Cor'lana says, almost a tad cheerfully, as she does indeed stick close to Skielstregar and the much more armored and burly people. "Or I suppose I get to test if the wights can be affected by my pixie dust."
Pothy looks sympathetically at Paenitia and Ramirez. "Oh dear. Oh, gorgeous," he says, imitating an older gentleman consoling someone as he looks at Ramirez. He's trying to reassure the bigger bird that he's still big and beautiful--just, err, not as big as before.
Lyme nods slowly, looking further on. "We still have more to explore -- and..." He shakes his head. "I /hate/ wights."
"That's a gr--" Meowclaiigh had turns to look up at Cor'lana while he was talking but catches sight of Pothy in the process. The cat body crouches low to the ground and his blunt ears press flat against his head. Feline pupils expand to devour the colored portion of his eyes. His body shimmies in pre-pounce calibration...
Then he blinks and shakes his head violently. Issuing a violent kitty-sneeze.
"Hoo. Hoo dang. That was... wow. That... dang..." he stands back up and stretches, padding around and further into the mines...
Okay. Ready to move on into the mines?
There might be more preparation spells to cast.
'.....' Ramirez makes an almost soundless noise as Pothy reassures him that he is still glorious, impressive and masculine. The less-than-large great hippogryph has doubts, size does matter, he is sure.
Paenitia, for her part, seems ready to embrace the absurdity. She is either a comically proportioned knight on a regular sized mount, or a chibi example on a similarly sized concentration of cute.
Her Ivory Steed may not feel adequate, but the Red Knight is more than happy with the current arrangement.
GAME: Ravenstongue casts Mage Armor. Caster Level: 8 DC: 17 GAME: Shilde casts Longstrider. Caster Level: 7 DC: 15
Shilde doesn't seem very put out by Ramirez's indignation. Not that the hippogriff isn't an impressive specimen of his kind, it's just that.. well.. she's a dwarf. One who has likely dealt with many a be-grieved animal. Instead she clicks her tongue at him, and gives him a bit of a beady eye before she steps away.. in time to see Barclaiigh shift and take the lead. "Show off," she mutters, then casts yet another spell lest she be the slow one slowing down the party. That done, she falls into step.
Into the mine, then.
Abandoned tools and more litter the initial passageways, and the good news is that this place is old enough that there's an erected post with a map stretched out on it right in the front area. It's a complex web of shafts and tunnels and the powered magicite lift will make traversing the various levels you'll need to sweep fairly easy. Imagine that. A lift, a map, and empty tunnels!
Could making gold get any easier today?!
"Okay, there is the very understandable map that is nailed down, so we can not take it with us." Paenitia says, pedantically, as she observes the signpost. Ramirez keeps his head high, his wings folded and tail impressively arced behind hi, even if he's taking up a lot less space than usual.
The little lucht surmises and summarizes their options, "So, we have the down, here, here and here, and the sideways all over."
Shilde gets close enough to regard the map as well, doing her best to study it without certain memories resurfacing. "Looks standard. If'n we got an artist with us, might be we can quick sketch a map'f our own."
Lyme crowds around to look at the map as well. "We're going to need to know this later." He nods to Shilde. "Good idea."
Skielstregar ducks his head as they enter, him looking to and fro to clear the immediate area. His foot clanks against a tool on the ground, and he bends over to pick it up. "... it'sss a sssurprise tool for later," he rumbles, stashing the pickaxe into the many weapon loops on his person. He ambles over to the map, rubbing his chin. "Thisss one is terrible with drawing."
He holds up his knife sized talons. Clank clack.
"Auntie'd have the whole thing memorized after a quick looksee," Meowclaiigh muses, tail swishing one way and then the other. He pads over and pops up against the wall, resting one paw flat while his other foreleg curls closer to his form.
"Y'all ever hear them stories where folk get t'somethin' like this'n go--" he licks his chops in preparation and then affects a more local, Alexandria accent (it's bad, though)-- "'yes, I do believe we should split up and cover ground more quickly, by jove. Pip-pip.'"
The shifted druid pushes away from the wall and balances briefly before falling down to all fours. He glances across at Shilde. "Ain't got no paper'r nuthin'. Maybe miss Cor'lana?"
Ravenstongue looks nervous as she's volunteered. "I, umm... I mean, I do have paper."
She fishes out a little journal from her bag and leafs through pages upon pages of what appears to be poetry written in Sylvan and Sildanyari, but she eventually finds a few empty pages. "I can copy it down. But I'm not going to keep pulling out the book into danger--that's my traveling poetry book, and while I copy the best stuff into my journal at home, I've been trying to come up with wedding vows for a while now, and I'd be really upset if I lost mine to acid or something."
The sorceress fishes out a pencil. "So I'll just sketch down a copy and bring it with us."
"Give me some time, and I could etch it onto a piece of metal, might be rough though. Better for Am'shere too, metal and bone don't disintegrate with water." Vaera chuffs as she reads the map. "I'm not good with sketching, though. I'm a writer, not an artist."
It was an offer, at the very least. "Just don't go picking any fights with people we don't need to, Skielstregar."
"Follow the left wall until you come out." Paenitia advises, "That is all the map you need."
GAME: Ravenstongue rolls Profession/Scribe: (18)+10: 28
Skielstregar just chuffs a plume of frozen air from Vaera's choice of words and shakes his head with a little rumble chuckle. But then he blinks at Vaera. "... wait what? You write...?"
Shilde gives Lyme a bit of a shrug before putting thick fingers to the side of her head, rubbing for a few moments. Then she reaches up to pluck her floating and currently belighted ioun stone from above her shoulder. She takes a step towards the sketching half-elf, then wordlessly sets the stone in a similar place above Ravenstongue before turning away to get a better look about the junction.
While the appointed cartograhpher continues to sketch, Shilde stops briefly near Skielstregar. She doesn't look at the makari, but does offer, "Glad t'see ye got yerself outta that mess with the eyeless," she tells him, not entirely proud the events leading to her own retreat from that battle. She doesn't stick around, however, continuing on to examine the lift, apparently not looking to make a conversation out of it.
Cor'lana takes the pencil. She looks at the map, looks at her paper in her journal... And looks at a few lines of poetry from the opposite page. "And always the way will lead home to you," she murmurs, before she puts the pencil to the page.
She isn't an artist, per se, but there's something in the way that she creates this short-hand version of the map that suggests that she's done something similar before. When she's done, she tears it carefully out of her journal and folds it neatly length-wise in half. "I knew years of copying fictional maps from books would pay off," she says cheerfully.
Pothy whistles something to her and Cor'lana glares at him. "Yes, but Telamon knows about them, so it's fine. You can't embarrass me, Pothy." <Sylvan>
Skielstregar looks over towards Shilde, his dead gaze softening at the words. A hand goes over his chest as she says to her back as she walks off. "Thank you ssshaman. It was trying. Glad to sssee you made it out too."
Feeling much better about himself now, he straightens up and plods near the front. "We might be here a while," he notes. "Let'sss get ssstarted."
<OOC> Shilde will be re-upping the light spell on the Ioun Stone floating with RT as needed. GAME: Skielstregar rolls perception: (17)+12: 29 GAME: Shilde rolls perception: (9)+14: 23 GAME: Ravenstongue rolls Perception+2: (16)+4+2: 22 GAME: Lyme rolls perception: (13)+9: 22 GAME: Vaera rolls perception: (6)+12: 18 GAME: Barclaiigh rolls Perception: (2)+15: 17 GAME: Paenitia rolls perception: (4)+8: 12
The druid-turned-panther has prowled off and turns back to look with yellow-green reflecting eyes as the map-making is finished. He stays where he's at until the others have caught up and then forges on, taking full advantage of his nimbly-pimbly feet and all the fresh climbing pawsibilities.
"Yeah, I can write. Artifice is just fancy writing half the time, after all. And no one's servicing this rifle except me. Learned it from a lady who wears oilcloth all the time, nice person. Well, learned Kulthian from her, not how to write."
"Best selling author in Charn, believe it or not. Shame I couldn't collect any gold for the sales, though, but seeing how it tore apart a bunch of slavers was more than worth it." She chuckles, heading back down to take some chalk from inside one of her many pockets in her jacket, opening the pouch and scattering it on the ground after they clear a level.
With everyone's eyes peeled, clearing the first few 'levels' of the mine is fairly easy. These 'levels' tend to bleed together. It's all slopes and slants and ups and downs. The earliest tunnels are, of course, the oldest and most well supported and as you go down, you find areas closed off with notes about 'support work' needed and more. So far, so good. Nothing's happening. As you reach the bottom levels after hours of this, it's beginning to get uncomfortably warm, and honestly, it's all beginning to feel like your time is being 'wasted'.
...but then, of course, that's when you hear it. A deep grinding sound from even further down, stone on stone scraping. Something is down there, quite possibly.
Lyme winces, hand straying to the hilt of his sword. "Well," he rasps, "that sounds like our call." He exhales. "More down, more down." Eyes close, then open.
The Red Knight and her mini Ivory Steed are happy to trot around out front, ducking into hallways, checking out galleries. "Ha! These are like the mines my uncles speak of. The stories are familiar, the looking is not."
She explores, until the deep grinding sound is heard, "Aha! We have the operational machinery. This we much cehck out."
The map Ravenstongue makes gets an approving nod from Shilde (not that the sorceress needed it.) Then she unlimbers her shield, readying it on her left arm as she nods her agreement to Skielstregar. "Stay t'gether. Miners like t'follow the veins.. an' the veins like t'snake around all squirelly like." No, she's not taking command. Just doling out some underdweller wisdom.
Once the search begins she tries to stay near the front of the group, occasionally tapping her shield against the wall as they travel. Deeper, deeper. The further they go, the more her memories come back to her.. while it doesn't seem to improve her mood, she doesn't get any grumpier either, falling more into a resigned acceptance.
And then there's the grinding. "Might be," Shilde partially agrees with Paenitia. "But be careful. Might be a bunch've things."
Cor'lana adopts a cautious spellcaster's stance, but she raises a brow as the Dame identifies a possible source for the sound. "Are you sure that's from machinery?" she asks quietly, a frown settling on her face. "I'm not exactly an expert on that kind of thing..."
Then Pothy copies the noise, albeit localized to a whisper in Cor'lana's ear, which earns him a /glare/ from his mistress. "I'm going to make a down pillow out of your feathers if you do that again," Cor'lana mutters. She doesn't mean it. Probably.
Skielstregar tilts his head to the side. "The silent soft skin at Sssunken Hope? Huh." Though he can't help but snicker. "We ssshould talk more about that late, Vaera."
As they draw closer to warmth, he breathes some cold air on his arms to frost them and make it more comfortable. "Paenitia, perhapsss your uncle hasss wisdom of these machinationssss?" The grinding though...
One hand holds an inky halberd, the other drips wafting miasma. "...on guard," he mumbles, more tense now.
"There are the mining machines for the drilling rock. The others for moving it, for crushing it, the rails with the elevators and carts and the pullers." Paenitia explains, "I know the blacksmithing for making the parts. I do not see them in operation. They are dangerous, do not get too close, do not fall in. It the way of losing the hand and foot, or life."
"Hmm..." the panther wonders, head lifted and ears perked. Barclaiigh doesn't hold position long and instead slinks back through the group and slides around Ravenstongue's legs. His fur is silky smooth as he rounds and takes up a position next to her.
"If you get in a pinch, miss Cor'lana, y'all just holler. I'll be bouncin' around but we won't leave you high'n dry should somethin' get too close." The cat head bobs in a nod and then he turns his gaze ahead, holding the flank for now.
Down, down, down.
Getting closer to that grinding sound. When you finally have reached to nearly the bottom level of the mines, you find yourselves overlooking chasms and ravines and copper veins in them. It is here that you see a rather large pair of strange looking creatures below you, clinging to the sides of the chasm you're overlooking. Dragging their sluggish bodies across the stones and leaving an acidic trail behind them, they appear to be working their way up, and largely responsible for the stone-scraping sounds as they seem to be able to mold it to their whim, their pseudopods pulling hunks of stone and moving them this way and that for whatever inscrutable reason they have.
You're about to back off entirely when a crack in the earth disgorges another pair of pseudo-pods near to you as one of the creatures bonelessly seeps through the stone, the stone sizzling beside it.
It's staring at you.
It doesn't attack. It's just staring.
It's very large.
Very, very large. Easily fifteen feet.
OOC
Bar and Shilde in music form.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NuYDKzky4z0
Level by Level
https://www.giantitp.com/comics/oots0012.html
<OOC> Paenitia says, "log 1001"
<OOC> Ravenstongue says, "Daaaaang."
<OOC> Paenitia says, "Thanks. It's roughly 1/day for 2.5 years."
<OOC> Vaera cheers Barc on
<OOC> Paenitia says, "leeetle bits of edits I can turn them into proper stories. Oh yay for Barc"
<OOC> Barclaiigh says, "Haha, what?"
<OOC> Shilde says, "That is alot of logs."
<OOC> Paenitia nods
<OOC> Whirlpool says, "Anyone need anything before we start?"
<OOC> Ravenstongue says, "I'm all set to go."
<OOC> Vaera would like to buy some silver and cold iron bullets
<OOC> Shilde says, "Only a promise that if I die, you honour my RPP Org Upgrade spend for the Raise Dead Assist token :("
<OOC> Skielstregar says, "The wards in the city to be turned off so I can put Called on a weapon and look cool"
<OOC> Ravenstongue says, "But Skiel, u already cool"
<OOC> Ravenstongue says, "... because you're a lizard"
<OOC> Skielstregar pulls out red marker and draws lines under eyes
<OOC> Barclaiigh says, "He's got the skiels to pay the biels."
<OOC> Ravenstongue says, "Cold blooded beca--you know what, we'll workshop that."
<OOC> Barclaiigh says, "Which are impressive skiels because Jessica Biel's appearance fee is not cheap."
<OOC> Whirlpool says, "lizards are always cool, it's in there blood"
<OOC> Skielstregar breath weapon and make snow cones
Ramirez
Regular size
===============================> Companion <================================
Name: Ramirez Type: HIPPOGRIFF SIZE: L Levels: 10
HD: 9 (D8) HP: 67/67 BAB: 6 MELEE: 9 RANGED: 10 AC: 29 CMB: 11 CMD: 26
MOVEMENT: Fly 60ft avergeATTACKS: Bite +9 1d6+4 and 2 claws +9 1d6+4
SPECIAL: DARKVISION 60 FT, DEVOTION, EVASION, GLIDE, LINK, LOW-LIGHT
VISION, MAGICAL CREATURE COMPANION, MULTIATTACK, SCENT, and SHARE SPELLS
Saves: FORTITUDE: 9 REFLEX: 11 WILL: 4
Skills: Fly 2(10), Perception 2(6), and Stealth 5(14)
Feats (4): ARMOR PROF LIGHT, BODYGUARD, COMBAT REFLEXES, ELDRITCH CLAWS, and
IMPROVED NATURAL ATTACK/CLAWS
Tricks(10):
Attributes: STR: 19 DEX: 20 CON: 16 INT: 3 WIS: 12 CHA: 11
==============================> Emblem of Ea <==============================
Shilde pages: https://www.d20pfsrd.com/magic/all-spells/r/reduce-animal/
Chibi version
===============================> Companion <================================
Name: Ramirez Type: HIPPOGRIFF SIZE: M Levels: 10
HD: 9 (D8) HP: 67/67 BAB: 6 MELEE: 8 RANGED: 11 AC: 31 CMB: 11 CMD: 27
MOVEMENT: Fly 60ft avergeATTACKS: Bite +9 1d4+3 and 2 claws +9 1d4+3
SPECIAL: DARKVISION 60 FT, DEVOTION, EVASION, GLIDE, LINK, LOW-LIGHT
VISION, MAGICAL CREATURE COMPANION, MULTIATTACK, SCENT, and SHARE SPELLS
Saves: FORTITUDE: 9 REFLEX: 12 WILL: 4
Skills: Fly 2(13), Perception 2(6), and Stealth 5(19)
Feats (4): ARMOR PROF LIGHT, BODYGUARD, COMBAT REFLEXES, ELDRITCH CLAWS, and
IMPROVED NATURAL ATTACK/CLAWS
Tricks(10):
Attributes: STR: 17 DEX: 22 CON: 16 INT: 3 WIS: 12 CHA: 11
==============================> Emblem of Ea <==============================