View source for Art of Slice, the

<div style="padding:5px; background-color:#e7eaea;">
== Log Info ==
*'''Title''': the Art of Slice
*'''Emitter''': [[Remethaer]]
*'''Characters''': [[Chloe]] Level 3, [[Gwendolyn]] Level 2, [[Liessa]] Level 3, [[Munch]] Level 5, [[Vennan]] Level 4
*'''NPCs''': Milton the Farmer
*'''Place''': Western Alexandros
*'''Time''': Dec 30, 2012
*'''Summary''': The temple of Althea is hosting a madman plagued by some past trial. Cryptic notes have been collected from this troubled individual and the Mother's Children enlist the aid of adventurers to figure out what's happened to trouble the man so. 
*'''APL''': 3
*'''Encounter 1''': gray ooze, '''CR 4''' 
*'''Encounter 2''': Iklavni Korlesh, brainwashed adventurer, rogue 4 '''CR 3''' 
</div>

The usual suspects assemble in the courtyard of Althea’s temple sent as contractors by the guild or representatives of orders both divine and secular. The Mother’s Children require assistance. Short on ceremony, you’re led further into the complex to a wing of private rooms meant for extended stays of recovery and relaxation. Surrounded by the scent of burning incense and the sounds of soft, chanted prayers, you’re warned by the officious and elderly matron that the man inside is ‘troubled’ before she pulls the bolt (on the hall-side of the door, interestingly) and pushes into the room. 

Two folk are already inside; a dwarven woman in clean padded armor of soft coloring crouches near the room’s other occupant, her quiet words interrupted by your arrival. With practiced calm she reaches a slow, steadying hand out to rest on the shaking shoulders of the temple’s ‘troubled’ guest. The man is haggard, his age impossible to guess, and his wasted frame is shaking mildly beneath the soft robes of an invalid. Gnarled fingers are blackened with charcoal-- the stuff stains several surfaces at various places throughout the room-- and parchment is scattered across the floor. 

Your attendant stands to one side of the door silently, her hands clasped down in front of her as the Khazad woman turns to offer a faint-but-hopeful smile. ‘Mister Black,’ she calls him, is recovering in the Mithril Lady’s light after escaping from some great and trying ordeal. He’s reached a point where-- during moments of passing lucidity-- he can make helpful notes in the hopes of righting some outstanding wrongs. He has trouble answering questions directly, she explains, but ‘Mister Black’ was brought to the city by a wandering friar who had encountered him on the road some distance from Alexandria. A farmer is returning to his home from the market today and has offered the empty space in his wagon as transport to the very spot-- paying back a kindness the friar had done for his family in the past. 

The man’s glazed eyes find Munch and he begins to shake his head back and forth, mumbling piteously. The Khazad woman hushes him gently and brushes at his cheek, extending a bundle of collected papers at the same time. The matron accepts the sheaf and waves you from the room silently. Outside in the hall she explains that you’re being enlisted to investigate the area and determine what sort of horrors broke the poor fellow. If the danger seems to great you’re to retreat and consult with the Alexandria military for assistance. She hands over the rolled bundle of papers and goes about whatever business she normally sees to-- the farmer waits to meet you near the fountain in the Temple Square with his wagon.


Vennan is, as ever, quiet and polite during his trip through the temple. A place with people recovering from unspeakable horrors doesn't seem like the sort of place to break these habits. He's downright silent until he's following the matron out. "So there's no other indication of what, exactly, Mister Black was subjected to? Beyond his present condition?"


Munch is vaugely pleased the man quakes at the mere sight of him. The golem hadn't thought his reputation to have spread so far. "So.... bad things happened, not sure what, gonna go find out and likely kill the bad things?"


Liessa is quiet during the trip to the temple: it's clean and it's full of honest people.


"Oooooooo pretty." Is the sound coming from a Lecht standing at the base of the temple, but Chloe is still following in their wake. "As luck would have it, We're here." She then looks to Munch. "And the Tin Man cometh. I guess we'll use him for a bat."


"He's been given as much space as possible," the Althean answers, now holding out the collection of papers for any one of the party to take. "Close attentions upset him further... the first day he was awake he would scream his throat raw if anyone came into the room with him. The sentinel has made great progress with him in the days since as sad as that is to consider." 

"Consider his writings, the lady believes you will find some clues and you have a trip of some length ahead of you."

<div style="padding:5px; background-color:#e7eaea;">
<OOC> Remethaer says, "So, if anyone has Heal they can roll it. Sense Motive as well. Finally, checks of Craft (Artifice or Alchemy) or Profession (Airman, Machinist, or Siege Engineer)" GAME: Chloe rolls Heal: (4)+9: 13 GAME: Liessa rolls Sense Motive: (20)+1: 21 GAME: Munch rolls craft/alchemy: (20)+6: 26 GAME: Vennan rolls sense motive: (15)+11: 26 GAME: Vennan rolls heal: (19)+2: 21

You paged Vennan with 'The man's hair is uneven and patchy-- beyond just being 'wild.' Likely it's in the process of re-growing after being cut haphazardly. You also had noticed a number of scars (some older, others red and fresh) that would poke out just beyond the hairline as he turned his head this way and that. (Heal)'

You paged (Liessa, Vennan) with 'The matron speaks of the man being unsettled by visitors but it was Munch, specifically, that agitated him in this instance. His eyes focused on the construct and a shadow passed over his features before he began his troubled mumblings. (Sense Motive)'

You paged Munch with 'The madman's mumblings were not entirely gibberish. You're quite certain you picked out specific names of alchemical components used in the crafts of alchemy and the pursuit of artifice. Magicite, aetherite, and so on.'
</div>


"We shall thoroughly review any information that you can provide us with." Vennan adds. "The poor man looks as though he suffered a head injury at some point. Lots of scars. And hair loss." He takes a glance back at Munch, looking curious for a moment before he moves along. "Hmmm. Could be a lot of things."


Gwendolyn, smiling pleasantly as always, looks on at the troubled man, a tinge of pity on her tone. She takes the papers carefully, bowing lightly to the Altean before flipping through them, and handing them off to whomever else wants to read them. Something did seem off about the man, but...

She couldn't put her finger on it.


Munch follows with the others, absently checking his gear. Which is to say his axe, which is the extent of his gear that isn't attached. "Anybody else catch what all chemical he was muttering? I recognize most of them, but no specific use for that assortment springs to mind."


Liessa shakes her head. "Nothing I'd know about. You had him spooked, though."


Munch's lower jaw splits open, the assortment of buzzsaws, grinders, cutters, and other impliments of whirling doom buzzing softly before snapping shut behind his outter caripace. "Yeah, I have that effect on people."


As Gwen shuffles through the pages she's reminded of the man's madness. The hand changes from page to page or from line to line, crude drawings interrupt thoughts are crowd the margins. Some words are in the common tongue, others are not, and so on. No two pages are the same. The notes will take some time to discern. 

Meanwhile, your driver waits outside the temple. Bundled up in layers of heavy woolen cloth, his arms crossed beneath his cloak, a squat human leans against the side of his covered wagon. A thick orange-red mustache wiggles whenever he sniffs and he looks from passing group to group as he itches to get going. A team of two horses are already in place, snorting great puffs of steam as they idle.


Vennan does his best to occassionally peek at the mad man's writing, but seems content to mostly leave the task to Gwen. Munch is eyed warily, Chloe is eyed even more warily. The moody elf mostly keeps to himself as he settles on the wagon.


Chloe nudges Gwendolyn as their driver awaits. "relay the words to us as we're driven, Tall one. It'll help us pass the time and it'll be like a story."


Gwendolyn nods, before departing with the rest, her resilient smile withering just a touch at the greusome sight inside Munch's... Muncher. As they head out to their driver, she grins lightly at the request for reading. "Well, I am no great philosopher, but I will relay the texts as best I can, good sir." She replies easily, holding up the papers for emphasis.


Liessa rides in silence, idly tossing a knife with one hand.


Chloe looks down at her breastplate. "I'm.....far from being a sir, ma'am." She says with a smile. "Luckbringer Chloe Lockheart, at your service, m'lady. May the Coyote bless us with incredible luck on our travels."


"Munch." the golem offers for those who don't know him. Like the driver, from whom he stays a bit back, more for the sake of the horses. The metal man takes up a spot near the read of the wagon, content to walk, confidant of his ability to keep up and hear what's said inside.


Gwen turns and blanches, seeing Chloe. "Ah. My mistake, milady! I am... a bit absent of mind at times. A terrible breach in etiquette I assure you I will strive to fix!" She apologizes profusely. Aaarrrrgh, DARN YOU INNER ETIQUETTE AUTOPILOT!


Arms go wide when you near, the fellow bouncing away from the wagon to meet you waving two meaty paws. "Oh, hullo! Yus, yus, come aboard my humble ship," he chuckles. He came alive the moment the group was spotted crossing the square from Althea's temple, a smile curling his facial hair. He holds back the flap of the wagon and motions folk inside, offering a hand should you need it. "It might smell a bit of salted meats... apologies for that-- but the canvas will break the wind as we go, at least! Half a day's a long time to be out in this wind, yus. Not that I mind, not at all!" He reaches into his coat pocket and produces a cap with the flappy bits to hang over one's ears. He pulls it on with a big grin-- never a more devious-looking sort was there. Not ever.


Vennan glances at Chloe, sighing slightly. "... Oh, wonderful. Another Lucht following a whimsical God. I was afraid we'd be without one of those on this trip." Bitterness out of the way, he makes time for an introduction. "Vennan Arcanost, of House Guardian. A pleasure, I'm sure." It's an introduction which encompasses both the wagon driver and his fellow adventurers. The elf eyes the wagon, wrinkling his nose at the smell.


"Milton," he adds. Not to be left out while names are exchanged.

Milton does his best not to look entirely impressed by all the fancy people with their titles and houses and arms and armor. His woolen cap has a patch in it. He might slip up a bit and go 'oo' quietly once or twice.


Liessa raises an eyebrow. "You have a problem with the Lucht, lad?" The knife goes up one more time before being caught with her other hand and stowed away somewhere. She's smiling, so at least she seems to be amused by the prospect more than anything else.


Chloe smirks at Vennan and sticks her tongue out at him. "A whimsical god that favors his favorites. So laugh while you can." She then waves away Gwendolyn's apology. "Don't be sorry, M'lady. It's a good joke. Better than a pie in the face." And she trots over towards the friendly fellow, but she shrugs and waves to Liessa. "And lady mysterious. I'll call you Misty...."


"Not all of them." Vennan replies to Liessa, raising an eyebrow right back at her. "There's just one the Guild always seems to pair me with that... well. We have more important things to discuss, yes?"


"Yus, yus, of course. The missus will be upset if we don't return before sundown-- if -I- don't return before sundown." Milton chuckles again, "Not that any of you would have business with my missus," his smile fades a moment as he offers Vennan a warning look. But it's gone in a flash! "There's a flap up by the driver's seat if you need somethin'. I'm Milton, again, and I'll be your captain!" And then he goes bouncing off back towards the front of the wagon.


Munch peers after the 'Captain' a moment, then shrugs. Can't be any crazier than the rest of us. "So, the papers. What do they say?"


Chloe grins to Liessa. "Team Lucht!" She says before hopping into the wagon.


<div style="padding:5px; background-color:#e7eaea;">
<OOC> Remethaer has more rolls, actually! "So, as stated, it's a bit of a ride. Folks can take turns going through the papers or looking at them together. It's not really a narrative to be read aloud. So, folks can roll Linguistics, Survival, Spellcraft, Knowledge/Religion, and/or Knowledge/History" GAME: Liessa rolls linguistics: (18)+9: 27 GAME: Gwendolyn rolls knowledge/religion: (19)+6: 25 GAME: Vennan rolls survival: (9)+2: 11 GAME: Chloe rolls Spellcraft: (13)+8: 21 GAME: Munch rolls survival: (15)+4: 19 GAME: Chloe rolls Knowledge/religion: (10)+8: 18 GAME: Chloe rolls knowledge/history: (18)+6: 24

You paged Liessa with 'The notes on the page are the ramblings of a madman-- but almost poetic in their own way. There's a considerable intellect buried underneath the symptoms of trauma and psychosis (spelling, diction). You get the feeling there are further clues but they might require context. (I'll have more info for you a little later) (Linguistics)'

You paged Gwendolyn with 'There is a repeated archaic/runic symbol of Bauglir (Maugrim) looming across the top of several pages. (Knowledge/Religion)'

You paged (Vennan, Munch) with 'There is a very crude map of hash marks, circles, and crosses split across two pages that might be useful once you arrive wherever you're going. (Survival) ((included Munch))'

You paged Chloe with 'There are fragmented pieces of written spells along the page. 'Mister Black' is an arcanist by trade (nothing useable as a scroll). The selection of fragmented spells leads you to believe he is (or was) an adventuring wizard (instead of the stay-at-home, scholarly sort) (Spellcraft)'

You paged Chloe with 'There are two names written outside of any context that are familiar. You seem to recall them as being notable Kulthians mentioned in a history about the Sundering you read once. (Knowledge/History)'
</div>


Vennan looks wary at the halflings again, shaking his head before returning his attention to the documents to attempt to spend his time usefully. "Looks like a map of some sort." He points out.


Liessa has been eyeing the documents for a while. "I'll say this much: he's barmy, but he's a smart one. I feel like there's something in here, but I cannae follow it just off of this."


Munch nods in agreement. "That bit looks like a map. Might be useful closer to the source."


Tilting her head as the text is read, Chloe makes a hmmmm sound. "And he's an arcanist, and he mentions a couple of people way back at the time of the sundering, I read. A couple of them sound like fragmented arcane spells." She then shrugs. "Some things you pick up in travels."


Gwendolyn is silent, as she passes the papers on after getting her good look. Her grin is forced, though present, and her gaze darkens and rests in her laps, her hands clenching and unclenching. "Some pages bear the mark of Maugrim, Lord of Tyranny, hated enemy." She breathes, loud enought to be heard, before forcing herself to brighten. "But I am sure this will all work out."


Chloe says, "Ugh. Maugrim. Control freak. and nut job." She then shrugs. "BLargh.""


Munch mehs, shrugs. "Gods. They have issues. So long as isn't the guy in person, think we'll be okay."


Vennan raises an eyebrow. "We can only hope. Seems unlikely, in any case. Though if his servants are behind this, it is a grave matter indeed."


It's a task that takes hours, literally. The thoughts of 'Mister Black' are broken, disjointed, and garbled. Pages have to be inspected and referenced in no particular order. The 'map' requires stack two pieces of paper to overlap with one at an angle-- as if they the thing were drawn in a rush where the two pages had fallen to the floor. This is the sort of thing best done in a great library or with the aid of divinitory magics... but such is the life of an adventurer; the back of a wagon smelling of meats sold at market is made to do. 

The Maugrimite rune looms on several pages scrawled in a shaking, frantic hand. 

It's only shortly after the last of the revelations is shared that the wagon slows to a stop, Milton calling for the horses to 'whoa, yus!' The conveyance tilts, bumping briefly, before settling into soggy grass with a squelching, squishing sound. The front flap is pulled back and the driver's frostbit nose stabs in, "Sorry to interrupt... but the voyage's over," he smiles, "We're here."


Liessa hops out of the wagon and unsheaths her rapier. "This looks... promising, aye."


Munch stretches and peers around, his attention having been on the scribbles, not the surroundings. Likely not the best policy when danger lurks around every corner, but, if you flip the corners around, he's the danger lurking, so it all balences out.


Vennan follows Liessa's lead, readying his bow and taking hold of an arrow before he moves to peer through the opened wagon flap, eyes narrowed. "Lovely." He remarks, dryly.


Chloe walks along behind the two, apparent, melee types. Of course, she peers around too, but she hasn't mastered the art of moving her eye. Not very perceptive, this one.


It's afternoon in the Alexandros countryside. The road is damp and dotted with muddy potholes, the grass to either side short and cold-stiff as it stretches out and over the rolling hills. Thick, dark clouds loom overhead as they make their lazy way down from the distant Redridge range. 

"So that's the spot, yus," Milton points across the road to a twisted tree dead for the winter season. "Under that tree is where Friar Warley found the man, 'sleep and mostly-dead. Probably best place for you to start being heroes." His voice rises and he can't but smile at the thought of heroes being heroic. 

The Alexandrian sniffs again, mustache wriggling. "The missus and I are another hour that way," he points further on down the road. "Then north, follow the trail. We can put you up in the barn if need be, yus." He turns to look around, adjusting his cap. "Anything else?"


"I think that's all we need. Thank you for the help so far." Liessa is already walking over to check the tree and the surrounding area: you never know.


Chloe says, "being heroes, huh? How droll." She says before snerking. "Sorry. I couldn't keep a straight face.""


"Just keep an eye out for trouble. Don't take any unnecessary risks, leave anything that might be potentially dangerous to us." Vennan replies as he exits the wagon, eager to put the meaty smell of it behind him.


Munch nods absently, haeding towards the pointed out tree for a closer look. "I'm set, thanks. Will try to let you know if find anything intresting."


"Of course! If I get killed the missus would never forgive me," Milton assures as he crawls back up into the driver's seat with a hearty groan of effort. It takes him a moment to settle and then he's set the wagon to moving again with a 'I'ma comin', lady!' 

The tree doesn't get up and leave, thankfully, content to remain rooted in place as a black and unwelcoming landmark some distance from the road. A relatively short walk and you stand under the bent fingers of its bared branches reaching up into the sky. The ground around the base of its trunk is muddy and bare but otherwise unremarkable. The tree rustles restlessly in the cold wind.


<div style="padding:5px; background-color:#e7eaea;">
<OOC> Remethaer says, "You guys can give me another Survival check, each, to sort out the landmarks." GAME: Munch rolls survival: (18)+4: 22 GAME: Vennan rolls survival: (4)+2: 6
</div>


The odd man made up of slapdash components is able to sort it out-- perhaps sharing some affinity with the mad wizard. Munch spies a fallen log, the crumbling remains of a very short, low wall, a bare hillside that's recently sloughed its outer layer, and so on. The markers on the map require some creative interpretation but the war golem manages; the three-hash X is the boulder, a circle the log... cautiously, you trek across the Alexandrian hillside.


<div style="padding:5px; background-color:#e7eaea;">
<OOC> Remethaer says, "Perception checks!" GAME: Liessa rolls perception: (8)+9: 17 GAME: Vennan rolls perception: (15)+11: 26 GAME: Munch rolls perception: (18)+8: 26 GAME: Chloe rolls perception: (16)+5: 21 GAME: Gwendolyn rolls perception: (20)+1: 21

You paged (Vennan, Munch, Chloe, Gwendolyn) with 'You all spot it; a squat structure of piled stones in the distance. It's in the general direction you've been heading. Munch and Vennan will note that it's likely off the map because it wouldn't fit on either sheet-- perhaps there's a third piece back at the temple?'

You paged (Vennan, Munch) with 'Sharper eyes note that the building is rubble; a one room hovel has been battered by the elements and one wall has collasped in on itself.'
</div>


Vennan narrows his eyes, returning his arrow to the quiver for a moment in order to point off into the distance. "Look. Some sort of ruin ahead. As likely a spot as any to begin the investigation."


Munch nods. "It's in petty bad shape, but good a place to start looking as any. If I were to hide the entrance to a secret evil temple somewhere, that's the sort of place would do so."


Chloe says, "Not a bad idea." She says softly and makes her way towards the ruins. Waiting for the others to catch up."


Liessa nods, following after the rest of the group and keeping her eyes peeled.


Nodding, this unique moment of perception has Gwendolyn betting it is a SIGN FROM ON HIGH!

"Onward, then! To that place!" She announces to the others, tromping off towards the ruin in the distance.


The ground is wet beneath your feet, leaking up chilled water in places and dropping into knee-deep sinkholes elsewhere. Going is slow for most but there's no immediate signs of danger. Several minutes later you reach the place; an old one room house of piled stones, battered by time and the elements. Short collections of rubble surround the two of the outer walls while one collapses inward atop a rotted beam soaked and black. Wooden fragments that might have once been tools or furniture have long since turned to useless scrap.


<div style="padding:5px; background-color:#e7eaea;">
You paged Liessa with ''the way in is out' and 'the way out is in' are two lines from different pages of the madman's notes. They come to mind when you consider the rubble blocking the doorway-- perhaps this had been a passage once but another must be used now?'
</div>


Vennan makes a muttering sound of disgust and unhappiness at the swampy ground beneath his feet. "I just had these boots clean." He complains as he climbs into the ruined hovel, eyes sweeping over the structure in search of clues.


Munch pokes about with idle curiousity, peering towards the interior of the 'building'. A crunch, a quiet grinding, and a swallow, and one of the wooden scraps has mysteriously disappeared.


Liessa seems thoroughly disgusted. "And this is why I prefer cities. And I don't think we're going to have any luck with this passage, either: he said in his notes something about 'the way out being in' and 'the way in being out,' and I'm pretty sure that this is what he was talking about."


Chloe says, "Interesting." She says as she looks about, flicking pieces of wood about. "Oh it's not so bad. Ya just have to make sure you don't throw up.""


Indeed. The broken beam dividing the ruin was ill-advised for the construction to begin with and the added weight of a good rain was enough to take the building from 'unsound' to 'death trap.' The natural world is reclaiming the site, now, and what integrity remains in the straining stone walls is there because the rubble has almost no place to fall. Mud has seeped in from outside through the years and hard frost claims the ground in the deeper shadows. Perhaps there's yet something else to find...


Sweeping her eyes around, Gwendolyn sighs. "Right. So this is a dead end, then?" The Sunblade wonders, poking around a bit herself. "If it is, we must make haste. If not... Does anyone have any ideas?


Vennan isn't going anywhere near anything that looks like it might be supported by that feeble-looking beam. This somewhat hampers his ability to search, but he gives it his best effort anyways. "This is the only sign of a structure in the area. We must inspect thoroughly before we move on."


Munch nods in agreement, poking around carefully, less worried about the un-supportive beam than he likely should be. "Bound to be something here. Maybe nothing useful, but still..."


<div style="padding:5px; background-color:#e7eaea;">
GAME: Vennan rolls perception: (5)+11: 16 GAME: Munch rolls perception: (3)+8: 11 GAME: Liessa rolls perception: (14)+9: 23

You paged Vennan with 'It takes a bit of looking but you find a neglected boot, filthy, and stuck up to the ankle in mud a stone's throw from the house. Roll another survival for me, for the trackin'.'

GAME: Vennan rolls survival: (20)+2: 22

You paged Liessa with 'Under the wind, you catch the distant burble of running water. It'll be in the direction Vennan indicates here shortly.'

You paged Vennan with 'You manage to find a trail in the mud, leading past the house to the southwest.'
</div>


Vennan trudges through the terribly swampy ruin, sighing to himself. After a few minutes of this, he pauses and narrows his eyes. "Boot." That's it. He points out the boot he spotted, stuck deep in the mud. "... And tracks. Follow." He sets off following the trail.


Chloe will.....follow vennan.


Munch has found something! It usedto be an apple! Or maybe a pear. And then it got moldy! And then the mold died, and new mold grew on it! And then -that- mold died, and the whole thing got covered in frost and mud! It's -layered flavors-!! AND... oh, hey, tracks!


Liessa perks an ear. "There's water this way," she says, following Vennan. "Running water."


Nodding happily, and ever trusting the minds and eyes of her companions, Gwendolyn followes along after Vennan, a big grin on her face. "Soon, we shall be at the bottom of this! And then that poor man's mind will be at ease."


The tracks are far from fresh-- having been made some days ago-- but the panicked scramblings of 'Mister Black' resulted in a lot of falling, tumbling, and crawling. Deep tracks that, thankfully, can still be followed. The road is well out of sight now with intervening hills and a low, lazy fog starting to creep across the damp ground. The clouds are closer now and the sun stuck behind them. The air is a little cooler. 


Vennan leads you along, down a slope and around a bend. The water Liessa heard previously is clearer, now, and you shortly find yourself standing at the edge of a short drop down into a gully. The water keeps to the center of the dark earth as it burbles west. 


You've a long city block between you and the ruin and are lower down the hillside a good ways.


Vennan sighs when the full length of the trek necessary to follow the trail becomes apparent. And when it becomes obvious that more muddy, unsteady terrain will need to be traversed. Yet he presses on best as he can, muttering all the way.


Munch peers up and down the stream, pondering and searchign for more tracks. "Upstream or down? Wonder what we'll end up finding? Something undead? Demonic? Clockwork? An undead clockwork demon? Or maybe just something icky?"


Chloe also looks up and down the stream. She keeps behind people cuz she's squishy.....mostly.


Liessa says, "I'd rather it were something alive, but my money's on something unnatural."


The edge before the drop down into the gully is disturbed where the tracks end (or began?). The drop is sloped almost imperceptably and nearly ten feet to the muddy floor flanking the thin stream. Enough water passes through here that the tracks have been washed away. Likely, the wizard scrambled up from the bed-- taking chunks of wet earth and dead grass as he ascended.


Vennan glances back briefly at Liessa. "Those are not mutually exclusive categories." He points out.


Gwendolyn gives a cursory, hopeless sweep for EVIL, almost hopeful that some wicked soul was hiding in all this Nature, before rubbing her eyes, lamenting with a long-suffering sigh. "Nothing I can sense around here. Whoever made these tracks are far away." She grouses, wishing Evil would hope up and scream COME AT ME so they could do GLORIOUS BATTLE on the FIELDS OF HONOR or something more resembling the practice yard and not a nature hike.


<div style="padding:5px; background-color:#e7eaea;">
<OOC> Remethaer says, "Alright. Give me Perception checks, folks." GAME: Chloe rolls perception: (2)+5: 7 GAME: Vennan rolls perception: (12)+11: 23 GAME: Munch rolls perception: (7)+8: 15 GAME: Gwendolyn rolls perception: (11)+1: 12 GAME: Liessa rolls perception: (1)+9: 10

You paged Vennan with 'Leaning out and looking down into the gully you notice that there's a tunnel leading back under where you're standing into the hillside. It's not easy to see from where you are. If you jump down into the gully it's plain as day.'
</div>


Vennan peers down into the depths of the muddy, unpleasant gully. What he sees makes him sigh with renewed irritation. "... We're going to have to go down there." He announces sullenly. "There's a tunnel of some sort. Fairly well hidden. Just the sort of lair all sorts of terrible things would love."


Chloe says, "Follow the tracks, and we should find what we're looking for."


"Point." Munch calls point, and steps over the edge, sliding his way down to the bottom of the gully. Maybe without slipping, no promises. The barbarian is ready to go smack something. "...wait, wasn't there some bit about this being the exit? So should we enter the exit, or look for the entrance?"


"Unless someone spies another likely way to get in, this looks like the only entrance we have available." Vennan points out with another heavy sigh.


"Just the sort of lair terrible yet nonevil things would love. I would know." Gwen corrects gently, crossing her arms with a big smile. "But onward and downward, I suppose! We have a terrible mystery to solve, and the wicked /hand/ of evil surely is pulling the strings.

She pauses. "What with the whole cryptic seal of the Hated Enemy upon the papers we found."

"It sounded good in my head."


Dropping down into the gully-- the fall cushioned by the damp earth below-- Munch is granted an unobstructed view of the passage in question. An artificial tunnel, the lip is a rusting metal framing that holds a stonework pipe of sorts in shape under the weight of the hills above. Tall enough for a halfling to navigate without restriction, the larger members of the group will be forced to crouch down and shuffle (or crawl) through. With no obvious lightsource, the tunnel is dark a few feet from the entrance.


Chloe tromps her way through the passage, without having to duck. whee. "Now we're normal! hee!"


Munch peers at the tunnel and shrugs. "At least unlikely to displace any animals. Or to meet anything bigger than we are."


Vennan follows Munch down into the gully with as much grace as he can muster. It isn't terribly much under the circumstances. He takes up a position behind the big metal man with the terrifying mouth, bow still held at the ready in case anything terrible pops up.


Munch peers into the darkness, for a moment susprised he can't see. Buzzing in annoyance, the golem pasues a moment before one of the numerous chemical tubes, or 'dreadlocks' upon his head begins to glow with chemical light.


<div style="padding:5px; background-color:#e7eaea;">
<OOC> Remethaer says, "Marching order is Munch, Vennan, Chloe, Gwen for marching order? Or something else?" GAME: Chloe casts Light. GAME: Munch casts Light. <OOC> Remethaer says, "Anyone have Knowledge/Dungeoneering?" GAME: Vennan rolls knowledge/dungeoneering: (2)+10: 1 <OOC> Remethaer says, "You're totally in a tunnel."

<OOC> Remethaer says, "Alrighty. I'll take another round of perception checks and move us along." GAME: Vennan rolls perception: (18)+11: 29 GAME: Munch rolls perception: (4)+8: 12 GAME: Chloe rolls perception: (9)+5: 14 GAME: Gwendolyn rolls perception: (12)+1: 13
</div>


Taking up the rear and getting tunnel funk all over due to her tallness, there is some small part of her that wishes, deep down, for just a little bit, to be a halfling. This passes.


Forced to make their way through the cramped tunnel, it's the tall people that are slowing down the shorter folk for once. The drainage pipe (as it seems to be) is only slightly damp for want of use and the riveted framing continues at intervals, rusted and discolored. The stone at your feet is smooth and, at places, multiple pieces seem to've melted and joined. The air changes subtly as you go further into the pipe, too, and acrid smells start to burn at your nostrils. 

The tunnel, finally, opens into a proper-sized circular room with walls of stone, and a tall ceiling. The curved floor of the tunnel continues as a shallow trench that interrupts a regular walkway around the outside of the room and a considerable amount of sodden, ancient refuse stews in a boggy pool at room's center-- the source of the alchemical stench.


<div style="padding:5px; background-color:#e7eaea;">
<OOC> Remethaer says, "Give me +inits, folks." GAME: Chloe rolls initiative: Roll: 6 + Bonus: 2 = Total: 8 GAME: Vennan rolls initiative: Roll: 14 + Bonus: 4 = Total: 18 GAME: You roll initiative for Goose: Roll: 13 + Bonus: -5 = Total: 8 GAME: Munch rolls initiative: Roll: 8 + Bonus: 3 = Total: 11 GAME: Gwendolyn rolls initiative: Roll: 11 + Bonus: 1 = Total: 12

<OOC> Remethaer says, "Okey doke. We'll start with the surprise round, Vennan and the monster will act first."

You paged Vennan with 'You manage to spot movement in the soggy heap. What you thought was oily water is a "living" icky thing with a tentacle.'

GAME: Vennan rolls ranged + 3: (4)+7+3: 14 GAME: Vennan rolls 1d8 + 2: (8)+2: 10
</div>


"The puddle! Tentacles!" Vennan says with genuine alarm. Those who know anything about the source of his scars will know that this is a bad sign. This time, the hyperalertness pays off. He swiftly readies his arrow and sends it flying into the trash heap, where it connects solidly with something.


<div style="padding:5px; background-color:#e7eaea;">
GAME: Remethaer rolls 1d20+6: (6)+6: 12 <OOC> Remethaer says, "I'm guessing flat-footed doesn't drop your AC to/past 12, Munch?" <OOC> Munch says, "It does not. FF 17 AC" 

<OOC> Remethaer says, "Oh, hey, Vennan can roll Know/Dungeoneering again" GAME: Vennan rolls knowledge/dungeoneering: (15)+10: 25 You paged Vennan with 'It's a gray ooze. It has nasty acid and is immune to Cold and Fire effects. You've heard stories about them just springing to life out of alchemical waste and, well... the proof's in the pudding (ooze?).'
</div>


Indeed, what seems to be an oily puddle in the heap of rotting mush appears to be, in fact, alive! A pinched whistle escapes the writhing blod when Vennan's arrow sinks into it, followed shortly by an unpleasant hissing sound. A pseudopod extends from the formless goo and whips out at Munch-- failing to hit the mechanical fellow!


<div style="padding:5px; background-color:#e7eaea;">
<OOC> Remethaer says, "Vennan, you're up again. We're in normal inits." <OOC> Vennan says, "More arrows! Staying behind Munch." GAME: Vennan rolls ranged + 4: (4)+7+4: 15 GAME: Vennan rolls 1d8 + 3: (7)+3: 10
</div>


Vennan really is on high alert today. Almost as soon as that first arrow fires, he has another one ready. It also goes sailing on into the horrible puddle of disgusting oil. "It's an ooze!" He shouts. "Covered in acid, and entirely fireproof and frostproof. Be on your guards!"


<div style="padding:5px; background-color:#e7eaea;">
<OOC> Remethaer says, "More damage! Gwen, you're up. A move action can put you into threat with the icky monster." <OOC> Gwendolyn says, "But neat! Thanks for reminding me. I'll move up and... Oh! Righto. Powah attack!" GAME: Gwendolyn rolls melee-1: (10)+6+-1: 15 GAME: Gwendolyn rolls 1d10+9: (3)+9: 12 <OOC> Gwendolyn says, "3 from PA, 6 from Strength and a half." <OOC> Remethaer says, "Munch is up." <OOC> Munch says, "rage, move/draw, attack" <OOC> Remethaer says, "You're in melee with the thing so you don't need to move." GAME: Munch rolls 1d20+8+2: (20)+8+2: 30 GAME: Munch rolls 1d12+7: (2)+7: 9 <OOC> Remethaer says, "Reflex!" GAME: Munch rolls reflex: (10)+4: 14 GAME: Remethaer rolls 1d6: (2): 2 <OOC> Remethaer says, "You chop at the critter and it splashes acid on your weapon-- but the craftsmanship holds up." <OOC> Remethaer says, "It's you now, Chloe!" <OOC> Chloe says, "Bit of luck on Munch."
</div>


There's a short pause between 'it's an ooze!' and 'covered in acid' that allows a CERTAIN HEROIC JUSTICE PALADIN to tromp in, ignoring the shield straped to her back as in one move she has her sword at the ready and finally... FINALLY!

THIS is like the practice field. This foul, sizzling goo is an ENEMY! That she can apply her SWORD to! Which she does, with gusto, practically baseball batting the enemy with an arcing swing. And then her sword singes, as she hops away slightly to make like a tree (of Daeus) and not get any acid on her, before taking a more... reserved stance, now that other allies are near her. And she has some damn sense.


Munch steps up, pulling his axe from his back and swinging in the same motion. The blade slices thru the goo with a sizzle, etching the surface of the blade but not causeing serious damage. "Oh, these things. Taste terrible."


Trotting her way up, even after Munch does a blood curdling rage and rushes forward, Chloe puts a hand on Munch's leg. "Coyote, if you please, we need your luck right now."


<div style="padding:5px; background-color:#e7eaea;">
<OOC> Remethaer says, "On Munch again!" GAME: Remethaer rolls 1d20+6: (8)+6: 14 <OOC> Remethaer says, "Vennan again." <OOC> Vennan says, "More arrow!" GAME: Vennan rolls ranged + 4: (17)+7+4: 28 GAME: Vennan rolls 1d8 + 3: (1)+3: 4
</div>


Already taking a pounding, the hungry ooze lashes out again at the shaking construct but fails to connect. Its wounds bubble angrily into the air, leaking noxious fumes and popping short sprays of acid. It trembles as the stuff of its form leak out in an expanding pool.


Vennan has gone into autopilote mode, now. There's really nothing to be done other than fire arrow after arrow into the oozing monstrosity until it finally stops moving. So that's what he keeps doing.


<div style="padding:5px; background-color:#e7eaea;">
<OOC> Remethaer says, "Gwen, you're up." <OOC> Gwendolyn says, "I... Swing my sword of justice?" GAME: Gwendolyn rolls melee-1: (9)+6+-1: 14 GAME: Gwendolyn rolls 1d10+9: (2)+9: 11 <OOC> Remethaer says, "Is'a ded." GAME: Remethaer has cleared initiatives.
</div>


Munch sighs, and crouches next to the pool, smearing a bit of much across his blade. Not exactly good for the metal, but better than leaving the acidy ooze blood upon it. Idly swipeing a long black tongue again, the golem buzzes in annoyance. "Yeah, all tart, no real body to the flavor. Anyway, these things are unplesant, but don't think is what drove mister nutcase over the edge."


Vennan finally lowers his bow when the creature is felled, breathing a sigh of relief. "Tentacles. Always tentacles." He mutters, taking a look around the horrible lair. "... It is unlikely that this creature alone produced such terrible effects. We must press onwards."


Chloe says, "Perhaps, perhaps not. Given enough time, things like this could cause a good deal of trouble." She says before following.


<div style="padding:5px; background-color:#e7eaea;">
<OOC> Remethaer says, "More Perceptioning." GAME: Vennan rolls perception: (13)+11: 24 GAME: Chloe rolls perception: (19)+5: 24 GAME: Gwendolyn rolls perception: (20)+1: 21 GAME: Munch rolls perception: (20)+8: 28
</div>


Gwendolyn does much the same with her blade that Munch did with his, following his lead in matters pertaining to oozes that he had called out all of the essential statistics for. It seemed prudent. "I do not believe the acidic goo is a scion of a Great Evil. But I may be wrong. I seem to surprise myself regularly!" The paladin grins.


Munch glances to Vennan. "It's a pseudopod, not a tentacle. Easy mix up." To Gwen he nods. "If the Great Evil wants to use an ooze as his agent, I'm not gonna argue with him."


Vennan narrows his eyes at Munch. "It's close enough." He mutters. "... In any case, it seems that even had our victim succumbed to this creature, it would've dissolved him. It's almost certainly not the culprit."


Even with the ooze dead the foul smells continue to hold sway over the room. The man-made bog of waste products is likely to blame. A walkway surrounds the heap and, looking up, you all notice the assorted chutes in the ceiling by glow of luminous enchantments. Limp fungus hangs from some, congealed substances best left a mystery from others. Momentarily, the distant sounds of weeping seem to echo in whispers from above... but are gone as quick as they came. 

A stone door is set into the wall to the north and west with a high rope handle for pulling that the ooze could not reach with its devouring arm.


Munch peers for a long moment at the various chutes above, then shrugs and heads for the door. "I guess we could try climbing up, but this way seems a heck of a lot easier."


Chloe says, "uh. mind if I check it for magic first, Munch?"


<div style="padding:5px; background-color:#e7eaea;">
<OOC> Chloe is casting detect magic if Munch doesn't open the door first. GAME: Chloe casts Detect Magic. <OOC> Remethaer says, "It's clean" <OOC> Vennan also wants to give it a once-over for traps, if that wasn't included in the previous perception roll. GAME: Vennan rolls perception: (10)+11: 21 

You paged Vennan with 'You find sign of a trap but it's been triggered and not reloaded/reset. A crafty bit of clockwork on the wall near the hinge, like to do with some sort of projectile (arrow/dart/javelin) trap. There's no sign of the missile but the ooze could've easily dissolved the ammunition.'
</div>


"It's clean of magical traps, Munch." Chloe says before stepping back for Vennan.


Vennan raises an eyebrow slightly as he goes over the door. "It's trapped, but..." He peers closer. "... It seems something set it off already. Some sort of arrow or dart. And it hasn't been reloaded. Curious." He glances back at the remains of the ooze. "... Perhaps that thing set it off. In case case, it is safe to pass. But we should exercise great caution moving forward."


Crossing her arms (slightly awkwardly with the addition of a sword to juggle) Gwendolyn stands back and LETS THE ROGUE AT THAT TOTALLY LEGIT DOOR. It is so legit, she would be surprised if a trap would even have the gall to be pla-

EGADS!

"Well, that's a stroke of good luck then! A blessing from the gods of light that evil is without foresight!" She beams. Before pausing. "... I think."


Munch shrugs, and pulls on the rope handel. "Figure Mister Nut back at the temple set things off. Might not be anyone left to reset them. If there was, probally wouldn't have made it out."


Chloe says, "Well.....I guess we should be more cautious. I'll check for magic, and you..." pointing to Vennan. "can check for mundane traps. Come on.""


Munch fehs. "I can check for traps. Open the door. If something flies out, trap. Easy."


The door swings into the room with a strong pull on the handle, surprisingly smooth considering the snug fit. Some variety of hidden spring or pully system will immediately re-seal the portal if the rope is released. A short landing is revealed on the other side followed by a set of stone stairs curving around in an ascending spiral. Sconces or artful craftsmanship are set into the walls regularly but the torches they hold have long ago burned down to the nub. The walls are undecorated, otherwise.


Vennan continues to peer suspiciously into the forboding tunnel again. "Well then. After you, expert trap detector." He suggests to Munch. He's certainly not eager to be the first one in.


Munch shrugs and proceedes. "Really don't understand how organics have become so dominant when you have so much trouble with something like a severed limb."


Chloe follows behind Vennan and Munch, trotting her way in. "You'd be surprised." She then looks about some more.


"Funny enough, my combat instructor told me it's not the limb itself that matters. It's what the limb lets you do and has in it that matters! Which is really to say that it matters but he liked being contrary." Gwen relates to the Ranger with a beaming smile. "I hear bloodloss is terrible. Also I'm sure you know all of this and are just being grumbly because you care." She says in complete seriousness to the mechanical man, patting him on the back before checking behind the group, taking up the rear once more.


The stairway doesn't leave much room for deviation; proving as it does to have a door at the bottom of the spiral and an archway at the top. The archway empties out into yet another stone-walled room lined with shelves, display cases, and other more arcane implements. A stained wooden table is at the center of the room, leather straps unbuckled and limp atop it. At its feet, a series of bowls and basins near a closed trap door in the floor. Vials, beakers, a kettle, mortar and pestle, and all manner of other tools cover a workstation desk pushed into the far corner. 

Preserved specimen float in jars of milky yellow; vermin, organs, along with other itemis more difficult to identify. Next to the display cases, a cofin-like tube of smoked glass houses a goblin suspended in a crimson fluid. Vials have been pushed into its scalp and stitched into place, its arm has mutated to a bloated limb ending in talons. 

One wall of the room is thicker smoked glass and set with a door. A heavy wooden door on the north wall is barred from this side and locked and a second stone archway on the southern wall has been bricked up and sealed. 

There is, again, the distant sound of soft weeping.


Vennan eyes the horrible biological items which have been preserved here, an obvious disgust in his eye. The elf remains alert for traps, pausing only long enough to add his own crabby remarks. "Well then, it's good to know someone on this trip volunteers to be first at any limb-risking activities." The weeping makes him freeze for a moment. "Be on high alert."


Chloe says, "Heh. Good call." She says hearing the weeping. "Someone should check it out though." She says softly before looking over at all of the vials."


Munch peers at the curiousities with... erm... curiousity. At the soft sound, the golem pauses, and peers about before heading towards the door in the glass wall. "Can't tell which way it's from. The heavy barred door seems best left for last. Save maybe the bricked up door. So, stay quiet, or call for guidance?"


"Stay quiet." Vennan insists, his voice little more than a whisper. "We can't be certain it isn't a trap. Best we see what the source of the sound is before we make any noise to give away our position."


Gwendolyn has hushed up at the back, guarding the party's back with the ferver and attention of an Alert but Unperceptive Paladin.


And then she gets an eyefull of the downright disgusting paraphanelia scattered around and goes silent. She retains a grin - a small one, that twitches at the corner of her mouth. She does not look very happy.


After a moment's consideration it becomes apparent that the sound of crying is coming from behind the heavier, barred door. The thick, metal-reinforced wood does much to muffle the sound from the other side, the reinforced framing and wooden beam barring the door shut are both carved with the now-familiar rune of Maugrim.


<div style="padding:5px; background-color:#e7eaea;">
<OOC> Vennan is gonna check this door for traps. GAME: Vennan rolls perception: (15)+11: 26 

You paged Vennan with 'This one isn't trapped and hasn't been trapped in the past. Inspecting the door would make you think it, in fact, sees (saw) quite a bit of traffic. The wood used to bar the door is battered and worn where it sits on the struts. Still functional, however.'
</div>


Vennan spends a long moment inspecting the door before shaking his head. "No traps on this one. Frequently used, judging by the wear on it." After double-checking, he cautiously lifts up the bar blocking the door, then steps back and gestures for Munch to proceed. "After you."


Munch nods, and steps up, opening the door. After all, not like anything too terrible is likely to happen. At worst, he won't get attacked by anything intresting.


Gwendolyn is simply staring at the symbol, her hand clenching around the simple hilt of her sword as she grits her teeth, her grin little more then the upturning of the corners of her mouth, and those twitch.

There is so much smiting she is ready to do. So much.


Chloe stands by and waits for stuff to happen. She saw the symbol and makes a bit of a face.....but nothing afterwards.


Opening the door under the mark of Bauglir reveals a dimly-lit hall lined on one side with cells. The smell of unwashed bodies is made worse by fresh rot and stale waste. Iron gates allow for easy viewing into each of the four cells on one side the the hall, the other wall hosts a long, elaborate tapestry of a dark-armored conqueror standing triumphant over a mass of bent-backed humanoids at a forced march. 

The first cell houses a wasted orc-blooded woman in sack cloth, leaning into a corner sitting on a mat of filthy straw. Her jaw is slack, tongue blackened and shriveled in a mouth that's had every last tooth or tusk pulled. Black eyes have gone milky and dry, sunken back into their sockets. An empty tin bowl lies atop a limp hand in her lap. 

The next cell is empty save for mad scribblings on the wall in dried blood. 

A sylvanori man is curled into a ball in the filthy third cell, his face towards the back wall of the cell. Strange coper wiring twists in and out of his back and flank through a sea of scars and a leather strap secures an onyx set in brass and lodged at the base of his neck, black ichor weeps thick from the wound. One ear has also been severed clear and the hole stitched shut. 

The final cell houses the only surviving prisoner in the hall; a lucht crouches down on his haunches, weeping hoarsely. He cups his hands under a dripping leak from the cieling of his cell. Beaten metal has been fused to one side of his face, making it difficult to slurp the water he's catching-- try as he might. At the sound of approach he stops weeping and lowers his one eye to the ground to hold deathly still.


Munch keeps mostly quiet, not wanting to startle wants clearly an abused being. "Friends. We're friends. Here to help."


Vennan wrinkles his nose at the stench of the hall past the door. His eyes go wide with shock and horror at the sights unveiled behind. "Daeus protect us..." He murmurs, repeating a quiet prayer in the elven tongue before he approaches. "We are here to rescue you. Do you know where your captors are presently?" Weapons held ready.


Chloe makes a bit of a face as she sees the Lucht. "Yes, we're here to help. By Tarien, we will free you." She says before looking to Vennan. "Can you open it quietly?" She says, after Vennan asks the obvious question.


Looking crestfallen, the soft grin on the Paladin's face renews as life seems to become apparent. She sheathes her sword quickly, looking hopeful. "Life yet remains... Oh great dragon, what madness has the followers of the evil one visited upon you?" She whispers, hope still twinkling in her eyes as she tries to smile as supportively and nicely as possible.


The halfling is a hard sell. Continued attentions produce a whining groan as he folds forward from a crouch to prostrate himself. The grinding of metal-on-stone bothers the ear as he rubs the fused half-mask into the ground forcefully. "No. No, no, no, no, no..." he repeats, over and over.


<div style="padding:5px; background-color:#e7eaea;">
<OOC> Vennan will then try to pick the lock. Assuming it's locked. GAME: Vennan rolls disable device + 2: (14)+11+2: 27 <OOC> Remethaer says, "Yup, that'll do it." <OOC> Gwendolyn says, "Diplomancy and smiles to calm him down?" GAME: Gwendolyn rolls Diplomacy: (16)+10: 26
</div>


"Yes. Easily." Vennan replies to Chloe, slipping a pair of long metal lockpicks out of his sleeve and into his hand. He crouches to start working on the cell's lock, leaning close to listen to it. "Someone try to calm him down. We don't need him giving away our location." He whispers before clicking the lock open and sliding the cell door out of the way.


Munch glances to Vennan, to the prisoner, and walks away. Claming people down is -not- his forte.


Gwendolyn kneels down slowly, placing her hands in her lap as she does, everything slow, gentle smile on her face. "It will be okay. We among our number is a cleric, and I am a paladin. Of Daeus. We will protect you. Everything will be alright." She extends a single hand, slowly. "May I heal your wounds?" She offers.


He whines piteously but stops speaking, at least. His posture doesn't change at the prsopect of rescue-- as if he fails to understand what Gwendolyn is proposing. He makes no move to run or cry out, for now, but leaves his face pressed to the floor. 

Aside from the alterations to his face and obvious signs of malnutrition, he bears no other wounds.


Vennan backs away to let Gwendolyn do her thing once the cell is opened. He takes a moment to take another look over the other cells and the unfortunate souls within. He pauses at the empty cell with the mad writing, sighing as he eyes it. "I'm willing to bet our Mr. Black was the previous occupant here."


Chloe says, "We may have to drag him out. Let me try something." She then changes to the halfling tongue. "My friend here wants to heal you, friend. Please let her because I don't know if we can free you in your current condition.""


<div style="padding:5px; background-color:#e7eaea;">
<OOC> Remethaer says, "Munchy-munch. Can you give me a perception check?" GAME: Munch rolls perception: (17)+8: 25

You paged Munch with 'The door set into the wall of smoked glass is ajar when you leave the hall of cells. Who or what opened it is not immediately apparent.'
</div>


Unfortunately, there's no obvious reaction to Chloe's words in the halfer language. The battered captive seems to be in pretty bad shape.


Munch pauses in the doorway back to the lab area, and draws his axe, peering around. "Guys? Problem."


Vennan frowns and shakes his head. "Best we deal with the danger here before attempting rescue..." He looks back at Munch, raising his bow again. "What've we got?"


Chloe looks over her shoulder at Munch. "What's up?"


"We cannot abandon the innocent for the sake of our own skin... My own skin. You do not all follow the code. But I will not argue this point." Gwendolyn mutters, with steel in her tone. She stands, slowly, looking at the halfling. "A moment, please, and forgive this unforgiveable pause in your rescue."

She draws her blade once more.


<div style="padding:5px; background-color:#e7eaea;">
GAME: Remethaer rolls 1d20+8: (2)+8: 10
</div>


Munch is not alone in the lab. Quite suddenly, in fact, he's face to face with a human female. A fist cuts up and across towards the construct's face, pushing a punching dagger coated in venomous green fluid past its face. Invisibility sloughs away as her form settles into the room.


<div style="padding:5px; background-color:#e7eaea;">
<OOC> Remethaer says, "So, +inits again." GAME: Gwendolyn rolls initiative: Roll: 2 + Bonus: 1 = Total: 3 GAME: Chloe rolls initiative: Roll: 9 + Bonus: 2 = Total: 11 GAME: Vennan rolls initiative: Roll: 4 + Bonus: 4 = Total: 8 GAME: You roll initiative for Iklavni: Roll: 6 + Bonus: 8 = Total: 14 GAME: Munch rolls initiative: Roll: 8 + Bonus: 3 = Total: 11 

GAME: Remethaer rolls 1d20+8: (9)+8: 17 <OOC> Remethaer says, "Flat-footed was 17, right Munch?" <OOC> Munch says, "yes" <OOC> Remethaer says, "Alright, give me a Fort save. You get a +2 to this, since you're a construct." GAME: Munch rolls fort+2: (3)+8+2: 13 GAME: Remethaer rolls 1d4+2d6: (2)+(6): 8 GAME: Remethaer rolls 1d2: (2): 2 GAME: Remethaer damaged Munch's Strength for 2 points. 2 total damage. GAME: Remethaer damaged Munch for 8 points. 47 remaining.

<OOC> Chloe says, "hang on." GAME: Chloe rolls fort: (3)+6: 9 <OOC> Chloe says, "never mind."

<OOC> Remethaer says, "Alright, Munch, it's your action. Give me a quick Sense Motive check, please." GAME: Munch rolls sense motive: (6)+0: 6 <OOC> Remethaer says, "OK, and another save against the Poison, plx. With the +2" GAME: Munch rolls fort+2: (3)+8+2: 13 GAME: Remethaer rolls 1d2: (1): 1 GAME: Remethaer damaged Munch's Strength for 1 points. 3 total damage. <OOC> Remethaer says, "Alright, sir, it's your action." <OOC> Munch says, "So is a human with a poison dagger right in front of me, yes? rage, full attack" GAME: Munch rolls 1d20+7+2: (11)+7+2: 20 GAME: Munch rolls 1d20+7+2-5: (9)+7+2+-5: 13 <OOC> Remethaer says, "Misses, sadly."
</div>


The woman presses her attack with the punching blade, a battered shield strapped to her other arm. This time the dagger finds a hole, punching through armored plates into Munch's internal components. The poison mixes with whatever passes for blood in the metal man.


Munch starts to answer, but he's sudden ay bit busy, what with someone stabbing him an a new unplesant toxin in his limbs. While an articulate answer might prove more informitive, the golem settle for merely roaring in defiance in the face of his foe (fairly literally), and swinging his axe at her head before bringing his own head around for a vicious bite. Sadly, the other seems quite adpet at avoiding damage, and the golems attacks fail to connect.


<div style="padding:5px; background-color:#e7eaea;">
<OOC> Chloe says, "K. That's what I do then." <OOC> Chloe says, "was planning on using channel energy." <OOC> Remethaer says, "Ah, you can do that, sure. Get Munch into LoE with a move and then Channel." <OOC> Chloe says, "Done then." GAME: Chloe rolls 2d6: (3): 3 GAME: Remethaer damaged Munch for -3 points. 50 remaining. <OOC> Remethaer says, "Chloe, give me a Sense Motive, please!" GAME: Chloe rolls sense motive: (4)+3: 7
</div>


Hearing sounds of Battle, Chloe is on her feet and trots for Munch. "Coyote, help this defender of freedom." She says tapping her medallion, and a pulse of blue light expands out from Chloe. Of course, she leaves the rogue out of it. hehehehe


<div style="padding:5px; background-color:#e7eaea;">
<OOC> Vennan says, "I'll use a move towards Munch. Can I get within view of the scary poisoner with one move?" <OOC> Remethaer says, "Yea. Can you give me a sense motive, too, please?" GAME: Vennan rolls sense motive: (17)+11: 28

You paged Vennan with 'So, who knows how these things happen, but the woman is heavy-lidded and glassy eyed. The way her mouth hangs open and her expression remains emotionless... She fights like an automaton.'

<OOC> Vennan will get close-ish, switch to longsword, and shout something out.

<OOC> Remethaer says, "Gwen, you're up." <OOC> Gwendolyn says, "Single move in, Paladin Targeted Detect Evil." <OOC> Remethaer kids, "She's not evil."
</div>


Vennan dashes to assist Munch, eyes going wide when he sees his attacker. He quickly slings back his bow and draws his sword, shouting to the others. "She's drugged! Or controlled by some sort of magic! Try to subdue her non-lethally!"


"Indeed!" Gwendolyn calls as her eyes glow with a lambent gold, her smile still thin and strained but with the twinge of hope that this could all end without bloodshed. "She is not evil at all!"

"Though I do not rightfully know of a way to subdue her, we must try!"


<div style="padding:5px; background-color:#e7eaea;">
GAME: Remethaer rolls 1d20+8: (17)+8: 25 GAME: Remethaer rolls 1d4: (2): 2 <OOC> Remethaer says, "Fort save, Munch!" <OOC> Remethaer says, "With whatever appropriate boni." GAME: Munch rolls fort: (9)+8: 17 GAME: Remethaer damaged Munch for 2 points. 48 remaining.
</div>


The woman makes no comment when Vennan calls out, she continues to engage Munch, slicing and stabbing. She doesn't snarl or taunt. She doesn't smile or frown. Another glancing blow with her weapon leaves a score across Munch's frame.


<div style="padding:5px; background-color:#e7eaea;">
Munch has disconnected. <OOC> Remethaer says, "We'll skip him for now. Chloe, it's you!" <OOC> Chloe says, "K. Gwen gets Bit of luck."
<OOC> Remethaer says, "Roger, pose it. Vennan!" <OOC> Vennan says, "Approach and hit the crazy lady with the flat of the blade. Subdual damage. Flanking if possible." <OOC> Remethaer says, "Try for an acrobatics?" GAME: Vennan rolls acrobatics: (19)+11: 30 <OOC> Remethaer says, "Yeeea. Flanking works. -4 for the subdual." GAME: Vennan rolls melee + 5 - 4: (13)+5+5+- 4: 23 GAME: Vennan rolls 1d8 + 2d6 + 2: (8)+(5)+2: 15

Munch has connected. <OOC> Remethaer says, "A solid hit! Munch, you're up. Flanking with Vennan, he called for subdual attacks but you're a lean, mean, raging machine! What's your plan?" <OOC> Munch says, "drop axe, draw sap, and smack." GAME: Munch rolls 1d20+6+2+2: (14)+6+2+2: 24 GAME: Munch rolls 1d6+2+2: (2)+2+2: 6
</div>


Chloe waits for Gwendolyn to get up to her before she pats her on the leg. "Use the flat of your sword, Gwendolyn."


"I can think of one way." Vennan replies to Gwendolyn. He slips nimbly around the golem and the woman, holding his blade up and at the ready. He then slides in and smacks her straight across the face with the flat of the sword, with force carefully controlled to stun rather than cut.


Munch hesitates, pondering his actions for a moment. "Controled. Great." With a sigh, the golem drops his axe, grabbing one of the 'dreadlocks' from his head. This particulat leathery sac pulls free easily, it's interior filled with some kind of heavy sand. It makes a pleasing 'thump' noise as it stirkes againt the human. "Just make her stop stabbing me."


<div style="padding:5px; background-color:#e7eaea;">
<OOC> Remethaer says, "What would you like to do, Gwen?" <OOC> Gwendolyn says, "I guess saunter up, turn the blade, and try to nonlethal smack?" GAME: Gwendolyn rolls melee-4: (12)+6+-4: 14 GAME: Gwendolyn rolls melee-4: (10)+6+-4: 12 <OOC> Remethaer says, "Both miss, sadly." 

GAME: Remethaer rolls 1d20+8: (6)+8: 14 <OOC> Remethaer says, "She misses, at least. Much, it's you again."

<OOC> Munch says, "Another wack." GAME: Munch rolls 1d20+6+2+2: (5)+6+2+2: 15

<OOC> Remethaer says, "Chloe is up!" GAME: Chloe casts Bless.
</div>


Making no notice of the bodies piling in around her, the woman continues her attack, raising her shield in an almost perfunctory manner as the dagger comes in at Munch-- but deflects harmlessly.


Munch swings again,almostaseffective as the drugged woman. "Bah, unplesant stuff on that blade. Tempted to just fall on her, pin her that way."


"Bless us to incapacitate this woman before she harms us too much, Coyote" Chloe says softly, hoping to help everyone out.


<div style="padding:5px; background-color:#e7eaea;">
<OOC> Vennan says, "Same deal! Subdual smack on the crazy lady." GAME: Vennan rolls melee + 3 + 2 + 1 - 4: (8)+5+3+2+1+- 4: 19 <OOC> Remethaer says, "That'll miss, sadly."

<OOC> Remethaer says, "Gwen, you're up. Just roll once this turn, the ability that allowed you to reroll only lasts the one turn." GAME: Gwendolyn rolls melee-3: (9)+6+-3: 12 <OOC> Remethaer says, "A miss, sadly."

GAME: Remethaer rolls 1d20+8: (7)+8: 15 <OOC> Remethaer says, "And she misses Munch. Munch, your turn." GAME: Munch rolls 1d20+6+2+2+1: (20)+6+2+2+1: 31 GAME: Munch rolls 1d20+6+2+2+1: (19)+6+2+2+1: 30 GAME: Munch rolls 1d6+2+2: (1)+2+2: 5 GAME: Munch rolls 1d6+2+2: (5)+2+2: 9 <OOC> Remethaer says, "That knocks her out."
</div>


Vennan goes in for another swig, which sails straight past his target. The elf scowls in annoyance. "If anyone has better ideas, feel free to voice them now."


No suggestions are forthcoming from your assailant, she continues to fight, ducking behind her shield to absorb a thwack from a swinging blade. She stands from a low crouch but fails to make a hit.


Munch leans back from the latest attack, and follows up with a hard upward swing of his own, cracking the woman on the jaw and making her knees wobble before a slow fall. "Ugh. Seriously, tis is why I prefer monsters. Tie her up, or look for who or what ever sent her?"


Vennan ceases his assault when the woman slumps to the ground. He returns his blade to the sheath. "I'd suggest both." Vennan answers Munch. "We don't want to risk her regaining consciousness at an inopportune moment. And attempting to evacuate her and the other while the real threat remains out there would be foolish at best."


The woman collapses from the last hit by the construct, a wig that'd been jarred loose previously tumbles away from where she crumples to the ground. Her scalp is abused, severely, with a long scar tracing up over her brow and around the side of her head. Her skull has been deformed, leaving a shallow crater the size of a baby's fist above the garish scar. The runic symbol of Maugrim has been branded onto the back of her head.


<div style="padding:5px; background-color:#e7eaea;">
==Wrap Up==
Standing over the unconscious woman does little to grant a sense of satisfaction; there's no glory had at the end of the fight. She's collected, bound, and those appropriately skilled see that no life threatening injuries were made in the heat of battle. Afterwards, the cowering lucht is found almost exactly where he was left; shaking with fear in his open cell. No escape at attempt was made. Two survivors-- three if you count 'Mister Black'-- with at least two others dead in neighboring cells. Considering the state of the would-be assassin it seems unlikely that she was the mastermind behind such monstrous acts. The search continues. 


One room still remains unexplored; the door set into the wall of glass remains ajar. Securing the deranged survivors is a simple enough task and managed with all possible kindness considering the unpleasant situation before explorations continue. 


The room beyond the thick, opaque glass stands in stark contrast to the cruel and spartan cell block; thick carpets, a small hearth, and a fine, high-backed chair-and-ottoman pair fill the snug room. A short stack of much-thumbed books and an empty wine glass sit on a small end table near the chair. Yet another doorway leads into the final room of the complex; the master bedroom. 


Dead for several days, an ancient, robed Eldanar man slumps forward over his open diary and an artfully carved desk. Candles have burned down to their base and melted wax spills over, dry atop the desk. A writing quill is held in a cold dead hand where it sat and allowed ink to bleed into the pages of the personal volume. A treatise on ancient practitioners of Artifice sits under his opposite hand while several volumes of  forbidden works stack at the other edge of the desk; necromantic editions, what claims to be a reference tome on Kulthian artifice, and a catalogue of humanoid vivisections complete with elaborate diagram and description. A profane symbol of Maugrim hangs heavy from his shirvelled neck. 


Answers to several riddles are found in the man's diary. 


After expulsion from the Artificer's Union for questionable practices some years ago he fled the city to avoid legal repercussions and-- by some sick twist of fate-- found an old wayfarer's post that had been abandoned for some time. Redecorating, modifying the existing construction slightly, and obtaining the necessary tools for his great works through agents and go-betweens had all but depleted a considerable fortune. He'd called in one last favor with a sympathetic individual (left nameless in the written re-telling) and hired a small band of adventurers to 'explore and secure a ruin.' The first group included the woman currently in custody (named as Iklavni Korlesh, previously of Charn) and the preserved body of the mutated goblin (Ikk-Ikk the Blooded) and two others that died 'before they could be of any use.' 


No fewer than two other groups fell to similar fates before the final group (including 'Mister Black' and the surviving, now-feral halfer) was captured nearly a year ago. He was quite pleased with the progress he'd made in the name of Maulgrim and hoped to perfect a universal technique to alter, through artifice, the minds and bodies of all sentient races to create skilled slave laborers. 


His entries end abruptly, his much-exulted devotion to Maugrim unrewarded as old age claimed his life. Iklavni-- his greatest success-- had been his agent and assistant in the lab for the majority of his years operating in the hidden complex. He commonly refers to her as 'the automaton' and laments inability to duplicate her results on more than one occasion. 


The notes of 'Mister Black' indicate a great deal of time spent strapped to the central table of the lab. His ramblings and recitations of alchemical compounds inspired by rote exposure as the artificer worked in the lab. The sigils of the dark god are carved in numerous places. The two notable Kulthians are much-cited by the dead Eldanar; his idols. 


Hopefully, with time, the Altheans will be able to bring some peace to the trio of tortured souls and some relief can be found in knowing that the evil works of the vile artificer have come to an end. 
</div>