“Well I wouldn’t even be if not for the Ur-Mage’s trickery! Whos elaborate death-trap condo you appear to have rented a room in!” squeaks Helter, skull pressed against the cold unforgiving peaks of a stone dryad.
The Argent Specter rifles through the sheaf of scroll paper, pulling out another of the FINITUM scrolls. He holds it up to Rat. "This one, then, Master Thief? The sooner we end the machinations here, the sooner we may move forward."
Once the Specter receives affirmation from Rat, he intends to move to the Iron Golem and repeat the process just demonstrated.
“I am no servant of a mere mortal! I come seeking power, as you all do...” The dryad stood proudly. The party’s vision flickered briefly, the crowing of ravens echoing in the distance.
"Go down, kick ass, and set yourselves up as gods, that's our Prime Directive!"
Team Ramrod | Krolax | L3 | Human Barbarian | HP 21/24 | AC 1 | XP 0 | DMG D10 | 22 Gold+Gold hand clutching blade
“Dwarf,” Krolax proclaims, “if you are something different in the painting, perhaps, if you pull the pedestal out, into the hall, it will also be something different, or even show something we aren’t seeing, in the painting. I’d rather not have an ethereal painting take my shape, if I can help it, but if the pedestal is too heavy for ya, let me know.”
“Oh yeah? And how long have you all been stood in a themed room? Come off it woman, there’s some sort of puzzle or some such magical object in that basin over there!” cackles Helter, as they try to squeeze free, bony fingers reaching for their sickle.
“I came seeking, same as you abomination. The basin is indeed magical, and has an object you can use. I might even help you, should you show respect.” Her form shifted, becoming that of a pale human sorceress wearing a cloak of raven, “Death and Fate were taken from me, and I will reclaim them.”
"Go down, kick ass, and set yourselves up as gods, that's our Prime Directive!"
Durgon turns around and looks towards the painting that Krolax had mentioned, moving his hands around the outside of the spot where the dust seemed to disappear, trying to see if he could see anything in the painting that would indicate a scenario playing of differently in there.
The wraith moved in the painting, but since the alcove could not be seen, Durgon could not tell if anything was manipulated.
"Go down, kick ass, and set yourselves up as gods, that's our Prime Directive!"
Hail Hydra
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joshgotroDeviled EggThe Land of REAL CHILIRegistered Userregular
edited September 2018
Team Ramrod
Fox moves back to the painting. Does the wraith come back?
Fox mouths, "Can you hear me?" , at the painting?
Fox testing the wraith again, pulling out his sword and points it at the edge of the painting.
Does the wraith still follow my movements?
Fox will put away his sword and move to the edge of the painting and run his fingers along the edge, pulling it off the wall by an inch. Is there anything behind the painting?
The wraith continued to mimic Fox’s movement. When he tried to pull the painting away from the wall, it would not move, held fast as if it had been carved into the wall.
"Go down, kick ass, and set yourselves up as gods, that's our Prime Directive!"
Team Ramrod | Krolax | L3 | Human Barbarian | HP 21/24 | AC 1 | XP 0 | DMG D10 | 22 Gold+Gold hand clutching blade
“I grow weary of how much time we’re spending here.” Krolax mutters as he stomps toward Durgon and the alcove. “Out of the way.” Krolax says as he reaches down to pick up the pedestal, but stops, momentarily. He moves his hands up to the top of the pedestal and acts as if he were picking up something that would be placed at the top of the pedestal like a vase or a small statue and moves his imagined object out of the alcove, in view of the painting, hoping that the wraith followed suit. (So I’m not actually touching anything, myself.)
Team Ramrod | Krolax | L3 | Human Barbarian | HP 21/24 | AC 1 | XP 0 | DMG D10 | 22 Gold+Gold hand clutching blade
Krolax’s heart filled with delight that, for one, it wasn’t his brute strength that got what he wanted. It was his mind. He walked over to the painting, still seemingly with nothing in his physical hands, to get a closer look at the object.
What does the urn look like?
Is there a lid?
Can I see what’s inside it?
The wraith closed with the picture as Krolax did. As he approached, the wraith pushed through the painting, it’s oily and canvas arms hanging out with the urn in it’s grasp. It was dim gold or brass, not peculiar design. There was a lid capping it to prevent it’s contents from spilling out.
"Go down, kick ass, and set yourselves up as gods, that's our Prime Directive!"
Helter takes off his own head and lifts it up to get a view of the party, “I’m sure the lads would be happy to sheathe their weapons if you and yours calm down.”
Team Ramrod | Krolax | L3 | Human Barbarian | HP 21/24 | AC 1 | XP 0 | DMG D10 | 22 Gold+Gold hand clutching blade
In shock, Krolax grabs the urn as the wraith simultaneously reaches through the painting, like an open window. He then turns around and walks over to the alcove. “Before we even think about opening this urn, I’m going to place it on the pedestal.” Krolax proceeds to set the urn on the pedestal, as close as he can to the outline, as to not disrupt the dust.
The wraith freely gave up the urn and then returned to matching Krolax’s movements with the rest. The urn lined up exactly with the dust ring on the pedestal.
The Jolly Rogers
The sorceress laughed.
“I am quite calm, and your weapons can not harm me.”
"Go down, kick ass, and set yourselves up as gods, that's our Prime Directive!"
Helter falls into a pile of bones and rolls away, reassembling and putting his gear back on next to Ravas. Helter flicks up their hood, “We’re being dramatic are we, love?”, the skeleton resets an arm, “I can do theatrics.”
“I am the R.....” she coughed, a few black feathers tumbling to the ground, “You may call me the Old Queen, Ravas of the Chained Blade.” She gave a slight bow. Thunder rumbled from not too far off.
"Go down, kick ass, and set yourselves up as gods, that's our Prime Directive!"
Team Ramrod | Krolax | L3 | Human Barbarian | HP 21/24 | AC 1 | XP 0 | DMG D10 | 22 Gold+Gold hand clutching blade
Since it seems that nothing happened, by just placing the urn on the pedestal, Krolax looks back at his team, “Prepare yourselves. We know not what will happen next.” He then removes the lid of the urn and looks inside.
Team Ramrod | Krolax | L3 | Human Barbarian | HP 21/24 | AC 1 | XP 0 | DMG D10 | 22 Gold+Gold hand clutching blade
“What do you think? Look to see if there is anything of use beneath the ashes? Or just hang onto the urn? You don’t think it has anything to do with the room of giant basins, do you?”
“And here I thought you would recognize magic. If you pull that statue away, you will find a tool to use in this chamber, you can also use the basin to scry, though there will be a cost.”
"Go down, kick ass, and set yourselves up as gods, that's our Prime Directive!"
"Goodly knight, you... did a thing!" He observes, hand idly on the hilt of his rapier.
After taking the Portalis scroll from Rat with a quick smile and a wink, he follows up behind Argent Specter and taps the side of the iron golem's elbow for good measure. "A very good thing."
He then proceeds to examine the two doors they hadn't passed through yet (I believe the map shows doors...). He'll sniff the air a little and flick his tongue, tasting for magic.
Vermillion tasted a pungent and sweet bouquet of magic, the golems were the closest source, but there were some interesting scents coming from the shaft below. Some stark and bracing like a cold drink lay to the West, while to the North the smell of an oasis seemed to prevail.
"Go down, kick ass, and set yourselves up as gods, that's our Prime Directive!"
Posts
The dryad hissed.
“It is a mockery of the cycle of Life. Do as you will mortal.” The creature shifted to keep an eye on the party.
“Well I wouldn’t even be if not for the Ur-Mage’s trickery! Whos elaborate death-trap condo you appear to have rented a room in!” squeaks Helter, skull pressed against the cold unforgiving peaks of a stone dryad.
"Huh" the Dwarf exclaimed aloud. "There's dust here, but not in this spot in the center. Nothing there though. Damnedest thing...."
The Argent Specter rifles through the sheaf of scroll paper, pulling out another of the FINITUM scrolls. He holds it up to Rat.
"This one, then, Master Thief? The sooner we end the machinations here, the sooner we may move forward."
Once the Specter receives affirmation from Rat, he intends to move to the Iron Golem and repeat the process just demonstrated.
“I am no servant of a mere mortal! I come seeking power, as you all do...” The dryad stood proudly. The party’s vision flickered briefly, the crowing of ravens echoing in the distance.
“Dwarf,” Krolax proclaims, “if you are something different in the painting, perhaps, if you pull the pedestal out, into the hall, it will also be something different, or even show something we aren’t seeing, in the painting. I’d rather not have an ethereal painting take my shape, if I can help it, but if the pedestal is too heavy for ya, let me know.”
“I came seeking, same as you abomination. The basin is indeed magical, and has an object you can use. I might even help you, should you show respect.” Her form shifted, becoming that of a pale human sorceress wearing a cloak of raven, “Death and Fate were taken from me, and I will reclaim them.”
Durgon turns around and looks towards the painting that Krolax had mentioned, moving his hands around the outside of the spot where the dust seemed to disappear, trying to see if he could see anything in the painting that would indicate a scenario playing of differently in there.
The wraith moved in the painting, but since the alcove could not be seen, Durgon could not tell if anything was manipulated.
Fox moves back to the painting. Does the wraith come back?
Fox mouths, "Can you hear me?" , at the painting?
Fox testing the wraith again, pulling out his sword and points it at the edge of the painting.
Does the wraith still follow my movements?
Fox will put away his sword and move to the edge of the painting and run his fingers along the edge, pulling it off the wall by an inch. Is there anything behind the painting?
The wraith continued to mimic Fox’s movement. When he tried to pull the painting away from the wall, it would not move, held fast as if it had been carved into the wall.
“I grow weary of how much time we’re spending here.” Krolax mutters as he stomps toward Durgon and the alcove. “Out of the way.” Krolax says as he reaches down to pick up the pedestal, but stops, momentarily. He moves his hands up to the top of the pedestal and acts as if he were picking up something that would be placed at the top of the pedestal like a vase or a small statue and moves his imagined object out of the alcove, in view of the painting, hoping that the wraith followed suit. (So I’m not actually touching anything, myself.)
The wraith that mimicked Krolax held a burnished urn in it’s grasp. Krolax still only held air.
Krolax’s heart filled with delight that, for one, it wasn’t his brute strength that got what he wanted. It was his mind. He walked over to the painting, still seemingly with nothing in his physical hands, to get a closer look at the object.
Is there a lid?
Can I see what’s inside it?
The wraith closed with the picture as Krolax did. As he approached, the wraith pushed through the painting, it’s oily and canvas arms hanging out with the urn in it’s grasp. It was dim gold or brass, not peculiar design. There was a lid capping it to prevent it’s contents from spilling out.
Can I take the urn from the wraith?
Helter takes off his own head and lifts it up to get a view of the party, “I’m sure the lads would be happy to sheathe their weapons if you and yours calm down.”
In shock, Krolax grabs the urn as the wraith simultaneously reaches through the painting, like an open window. He then turns around and walks over to the alcove. “Before we even think about opening this urn, I’m going to place it on the pedestal.” Krolax proceeds to set the urn on the pedestal, as close as he can to the outline, as to not disrupt the dust.
The wraith freely gave up the urn and then returned to matching Krolax’s movements with the rest. The urn lined up exactly with the dust ring on the pedestal.
The Jolly Rogers
The sorceress laughed.
“I am quite calm, and your weapons can not harm me.”
“Bugger you as well!”
Helter attempts to bite her nose with their dislocated skull.
Edited this post as I lack reading comprehension.
Rat approaches the Jester with a look of awe, then offers him his choice of the scrolls she has. She shrugs at Nimue and looks to her.
"Gold, body, recur, end, contributions, die, and portals." She points out which is which.
Then, turning to the specter, she turns over which one he indicated and nods. "Try it!"
I'm not sure my sphincter could get any tighter at this moment. I'm vulnerable, as a human being, to the suspense.
The scroll slid into the iron golem’s mouth. It stopped moving. The stone which stopped started moving again.
Helter falls into a pile of bones and rolls away, reassembling and putting his gear back on next to Ravas. Helter flicks up their hood, “We’re being dramatic are we, love?”, the skeleton resets an arm, “I can do theatrics.”
They brandish their sickle, eye sockets ablaze.
Ravas gazes over at Helter slightly confused and then shifts his gaze to the pale sorceress
"IF we are to help each other, what should we call you?"
“I am the R.....” she coughed, a few black feathers tumbling to the ground, “You may call me the Old Queen, Ravas of the Chained Blade.” She gave a slight bow. Thunder rumbled from not too far off.
Since it seems that nothing happened, by just placing the urn on the pedestal, Krolax looks back at his team, “Prepare yourselves. We know not what will happen next.” He then removes the lid of the urn and looks inside.
“I’m glad we’ve sorted this out amicably Old Queen. So, about that basin, what’s up with it do you reckon?”
Upon opening the urn, Krolax saw ashes, filled to the brim with the grey soot.
Ravas bows his head slightly in response to the woman. "Tis a popular name." he says quietly to Helter in a slightly bemused tone.
His eyes went back to the Old Queen, he wanted to inquire as to what she meant about Fate earlier but also wanted to hear her response to Helter.
“What do you think? Look to see if there is anything of use beneath the ashes? Or just hang onto the urn? You don’t think it has anything to do with the room of giant basins, do you?”
The Old Queen smiled.
“And here I thought you would recognize magic. If you pull that statue away, you will find a tool to use in this chamber, you can also use the basin to scry, though there will be a cost.”
"Goodly knight, you... did a thing!" He observes, hand idly on the hilt of his rapier.
After taking the Portalis scroll from Rat with a quick smile and a wink, he follows up behind Argent Specter and taps the side of the iron golem's elbow for good measure. "A very good thing."
He then proceeds to examine the two doors they hadn't passed through yet (I believe the map shows doors...). He'll sniff the air a little and flick his tongue, tasting for magic.
Geth, roll 2d6+1 to cast Detect Magic.
Vermillion tasted a pungent and sweet bouquet of magic, the golems were the closest source, but there were some interesting scents coming from the shaft below. Some stark and bracing like a cold drink lay to the West, while to the North the smell of an oasis seemed to prevail.
"I cannae think of a reason ash would be useful. Dump it” Durgon responded
Fox takes some of the ash and spreads it down the hallway. Slowly walking passed the first painting Fox stops and waits for some reaction.
Lig | L3 | Human - Druid | HP 20/21 | DMG D6 | AR 2 on land
"Aye, I can stick the ashes of Squibble and the shoes of Halwyr in there.
The urn itself could be useful if something demands it"
As Fox took the ashes, the glint of electrum was spotted in the urn. The wraith matched Fox’s movement, no appreciable change.