Fox stood proudly in their vessel. The souls in the river wafted up to meet him, swirling around. As the boat sailed onward, he saw terrible things, lightning striking around, monsters cavorting, and all he loved cast into blind eternity...
ALL
A GRIM PORTENT HAS COME TO PASS AND THE EYE IS OPEN.
"Wait. Were it by boat or..." The dwarf tapped his finger on his chin and looked up to see his companions jumping into boats. "Guess we risk this together."
The dwarf entered his own boat and lay down, closing his eyes tightly, and placing the coins with his likeness on them over his eyes. "Deep breaths Durgon. You aren't actually in the water."
Ravas furrows his brow as a sense of impending doom overcame him. He tries to shake it , as he looks to the Old Queen
"The cost you mentioned earlier. I assume the others in the room already paid it?" He looked around briefly at the statues in the room. And then move to near the basin to grab hold of the statue that Helter had knocked in earlier.
Ravas does his best to gently pull the statue out without splashing any of the liquid on himself or anything. He looks up at the other centaur statue warily and then back at the Old Queen and the rest of the group.
Durgon’s boat washed downriver, whispers filling his ears and scratching coming from outside the craft. The spirits dispersed from Fox as he tumbled over the falls into the Kingdom of Death...
The Jolly Rogers
The statue was easily moved, the basin murky but clearing as the remaining material in it dissolved. Something was still present at the bottom though...
"Go down, kick ass, and set yourselves up as gods, that's our Prime Directive!"
Arngrim's boat bobbed through the river, following after Durgon's boat. As they went over the edge, the wailing ceased and there was light beyond their eyes. If they dared to open them, they would be where they stood before entering the Ferryman's cavern, in the gallery. The others had returned as well and were making sure their surroundings were as they had been before. They were, of course.
"Go down, kick ass, and set yourselves up as gods, that's our Prime Directive!"
Rat had been lost in inspecting something meaningless in the room, but when called to attention, she scurries and examines the next door. If it appears safe to her, she will open it.
Geth, roll 2d6+3 for Trap Expert with the Cautious advanced move.
Order of my questions...depending on how well I do.
1. Is there a trap here and if so what activates it?
2. What does the trap do when activated?
3. What else is hidden here?
This room’s ceiling has wisps of cloud which float across from the west, but otherwise it appears to be a normal starry night sky. The walls of the chamber are carved to resemble the standing stones of an oracular circle. A half dozen petrified Dryads stand in lines in the center of the chamber, their gaze ever skyward. Against the North wall, a basin of silver liquid glows with it’s own luminesence and casts dancing shadows on the walls. The basin is flanked by two wooden statues of centaur archers.
"Go down, kick ass, and set yourselves up as gods, that's our Prime Directive!"
Helter reaches into the basin, their bones aching as the basin hissed and bubbled. As Their fingers scraped the bottom of the basin, Helter felt 2 small objects and retrieved them. Their arm smoking as it emerged from liquid, their hand held 2 dice, carved from the bone of some other creature
Geth, roll 3d4 Acid damage ignoring armor for Helter
Helter:
3d45 [3d4=2, 2, 1]
"Go down, kick ass, and set yourselves up as gods, that's our Prime Directive!"
Vermilion Catamount gives a deep bow to the pastoral retinue, approaching one if the petrified dryads and asking politely in an Elven tongue, "Good evening, dear lady. If I may, what are you looking at?"
Using Charming and Open if applicable
He peers up looking for some possible constellation or shape in the clouds. Maybe a falling block trap?
Geth roll 2d6+1 for Discern Realities on the sky above.
The Argent Specter, his movement visibly demonstrating his irritation at the fortress's puzzlements, stops short of the rows of dryads and intones a short chant. "Pasyr ao zmy wriuzmw ikajy, qrilz py ulwuqmz, smiz oafdlyww qrasw ul ph erywylty?"
Grim Company: @LaserFoul@Nips@saber_of_black@SalmonMax
Nimue watches as these rooms seem to have such a variety of puzzles, from chess to golems to petrified dryads. How fun! "Well if these ladies didn't just jump up to charm the lot of us, I wonder if they aren't more statues"
0
Options
NipsHe/HimLuxuriating in existential crisis.Registered Userregular
The armored knight points to the basin, and then the constellation of the trident in the sky. "There is a foulness about that receptacle, and the mark of the three-tined spear in the sky. Malign portents, my companions."
The paladin stares intently at the sky, the grip on his sword tightening ever just so.
I'd like the Specter to Spout Lore, trying to wrack his somewhat broken memory for why the trident might look familiar. Doable?
Team Ramrod
Lig | L3 | Human - Druid | HP 20/21 | DMG D6 | AR 2 on land
".....Yarr!!"
Lig stops screaming as the reality of the painting's waterfall faded away.
"I've no idea the point of any of this Ur-Mage's madness. Perhaps he needs hapless fools to activate his traps, and we are playing the part.
Let's take a break from these paintings. It's a little much.
We do have two other doors on this side. I'd like to see where they lead."
Lig approaches the Door near the alter (on the left) and peeks through.
(By the way, were any of the doors visible marked as M?)
As you entered into this passage, you heard a tinkling of glass near the wall. On the ground, you saw disembodied hands wrought of black crystal scuttle away from a jagged crack in the North wall. Also along the North Wall, a semicircular font in the image a blindfolded acolyte poured sweet-smelling water from tattooed eyes on their palms into a basin, something glittering at the bottom. Along the South wall, across from the font, a glass case coated in a thick dust sat upon a square dais.
"Go down, kick ass, and set yourselves up as gods, that's our Prime Directive!"
Hail Hydra
+1
Options
NipsHe/HimLuxuriating in existential crisis.Registered Userregular
The Specter stared into the void, trying to wrack his brain for the meaning behind the Trident constellation. It was then the 3 ‘tips’ of the Trident began to slowly grow larger....
Matev on
"Go down, kick ass, and set yourselves up as gods, that's our Prime Directive!"
Lig cleared the dust away and saw a model of a black pyramid, topped with a statue of Death wielding a wand. There were figures of slaves and slavedrivers posed around the structure. After observing for a few seconds, the scene shudderd to life, the slaves perfecting the pyramid as the drivers whipped them on. A slave fell over, unable to work any longer. The slave was scourged repeatedly until they stop moving. A small misty substance escaped from the body and floated up until it was sucked into Death’s wand.
Lig, the slave was someone you knew, who was it?
"Go down, kick ass, and set yourselves up as gods, that's our Prime Directive!"
Team Ramrod
Lig | L3 | Human - Druid | HP 20/21 | DMG D6 | AR 2 on land
My former Druidic teacher and his senior disciples challenged the Fortress a decade ago, when it appeared outside the green mountains.
I was selected to await their return, but found no survivors.
I seek to return what I can of those brave souls to their home and family in the mountains.
I recognize this slave to be Marian, my teacher's brightest disciple, and the mentor who taught me the shape of the mountain goat. She was known to be prideful, stubborn, dangerous.
"Has a creepy model pyramid in this display of glass.
I witnessed a morbid vision of an old friend within it.
Not sure it's worth much treasure to the crew"
Lig mentions to his partymembers
Virgil_Leads_You on
0
Options
NipsHe/HimLuxuriating in existential crisis.Registered Userregular
The Argent Specter shakes his helmeted head. "I...I can't remember. The Wraiths above, preserve me, for I am lost."
The armored paladin hugs his shield a little closer and his grip tightens on his sword, knowing that his grasp on this reality has slipped a bit once more.
"Master Nimue, Master Vermilion, what do you make of those signs above?"
Grim Company: @LaserFoul@Nips@saber_of_black@SalmonMax
Nimue will take a look at these signs and constellations that seem to be plaguing their remaining paladin, perhaps to help sort them out.
Team Ramrod | Krolax | L3 | Human Barbarian | HP 21/24 | AC 1 | XP 0 | DMG D10 | 22 Gold+Gold hand clutching blade
Striking forward, sword resting on his shoulder, Krolax enters the new room. Seeing Lig investigating the glass case, Krolax turns his attention to the font. He takes a moment to give a thourough evaluation.
What are the tattoos of? Besides water, is there anything else in her hands? Do I recognize the scent of the water? Can I tell what the glittering object in the water is? Let me know if I need to roll something.
There were several constellations in the sky, which corresponding with various sights in the night sky of the Sundered World. The tips of the Trident grew larger
Which Constellations are recognized? Feel free to shape the world
The Ramrods
The font smelled of honeysuckle and spring, there were glints of golden and silver light at the bottom of the font.
The tattoos on the statues palms are of eyes. There isn't anything else in the hands. Further examination will require more specific actions
"Go down, kick ass, and set yourselves up as gods, that's our Prime Directive!"
Posts
Krolax inhaled deeply as he approaches the cliff, ready for the worst
Krolax’s boat sailed off the edge of the falls, plunging out of sight. Lig’s vessel soon followed.
Fox stood proudly in their vessel. The souls in the river wafted up to meet him, swirling around. As the boat sailed onward, he saw terrible things, lightning striking around, monsters cavorting, and all he loved cast into blind eternity...
ALL
A GRIM PORTENT HAS COME TO PASS AND THE EYE IS OPEN.
"Wait. Were it by boat or..." The dwarf tapped his finger on his chin and looked up to see his companions jumping into boats. "Guess we risk this together."
The dwarf entered his own boat and lay down, closing his eyes tightly, and placing the coins with his likeness on them over his eyes. "Deep breaths Durgon. You aren't actually in the water."
"Well that sounded ominous"
Ravas furrows his brow as a sense of impending doom overcame him. He tries to shake it , as he looks to the Old Queen
"The cost you mentioned earlier. I assume the others in the room already paid it?" He looked around briefly at the statues in the room. And then move to near the basin to grab hold of the statue that Helter had knocked in earlier.
Ravas does his best to gently pull the statue out without splashing any of the liquid on himself or anything. He looks up at the other centaur statue warily and then back at the Old Queen and the rest of the group.
Following the scent and taste of magic, Vermilion motions the others to the northern door.
"My nimble little lark, go on now, open it." He whistles softly and points Rat to the door. Looking around nervously, he adds, "Hurry dear. Hurry."
The Jolly Rogers
The Old Queen chuckled.
"They were like that when I arrived actually."
Helter lends a hand as best they’re able, ready to grab Ravas if they lean over too far.
“Sorry mate, I thought it might be alive and dangerous. As you can imagine, I’ve some trouble with that sort of thing.”
Durgon’s boat washed downriver, whispers filling his ears and scratching coming from outside the craft. The spirits dispersed from Fox as he tumbled over the falls into the Kingdom of Death...
The Jolly Rogers
The statue was easily moved, the basin murky but clearing as the remaining material in it dissolved. Something was still present at the bottom though...
Arngrim nods his head and takes the lead of his much more hardworking comrads.
Placing the coins on his eyes, he lays into the boatman’s carriage, and lets the waters of the dark ricer carry him.
Arngrim's boat bobbed through the river, following after Durgon's boat. As they went over the edge, the wailing ceased and there was light beyond their eyes. If they dared to open them, they would be where they stood before entering the Ferryman's cavern, in the gallery. The others had returned as well and were making sure their surroundings were as they had been before. They were, of course.
Rat had been lost in inspecting something meaningless in the room, but when called to attention, she scurries and examines the next door. If it appears safe to her, she will open it.
Geth, roll 2d6+3 for Trap Expert with the Cautious advanced move.
1. Is there a trap here and if so what activates it?
2. What does the trap do when activated?
3. What else is hidden here?
https://youtu.be/Di7qg5XMfU0
This room’s ceiling has wisps of cloud which float across from the west, but otherwise it appears to be a normal starry night sky. The walls of the chamber are carved to resemble the standing stones of an oracular circle. A half dozen petrified Dryads stand in lines in the center of the chamber, their gaze ever skyward. Against the North wall, a basin of silver liquid glows with it’s own luminesence and casts dancing shadows on the walls. The basin is flanked by two wooden statues of centaur archers.
Helter shoves their whole arm in the corrosive waters to pull out whatever that object is.
“I HAVE POOR IMPULSE CONTROOOLLLLLL!!”
Helter reaches into the basin, their bones aching as the basin hissed and bubbled. As Their fingers scraped the bottom of the basin, Helter felt 2 small objects and retrieved them. Their arm smoking as it emerged from liquid, their hand held 2 dice, carved from the bone of some other creature
14/19 HP!
Helter blows the smoke from their arm.
“Guess I gotta roll these bones!”
The skeleton throws them into their eye sockets, rolls them inside their skull and spits them out at Ravas feet.
“...In hindsight I should have checked them over... Err...”
Vermilion Catamount gives a deep bow to the pastoral retinue, approaching one if the petrified dryads and asking politely in an Elven tongue, "Good evening, dear lady. If I may, what are you looking at?"
He peers up looking for some possible constellation or shape in the clouds. Maybe a falling block trap?
Geth roll 2d6+1 for Discern Realities on the sky above.
The dryad gave no response.
The Argent Specter, his movement visibly demonstrating his irritation at the fortress's puzzlements, stops short of the rows of dryads and intones a short chant.
"Pasyr ao zmy wriuzmw ikajy, qrilz py ulwuqmz, smiz oafdlyww qrasw ul ph erywylty?"
Opening his eyes, as if they’d been glued shut, Krolax looks around to see his peers standing around him, eyes still shut.
“What was the point?!” He shouts in a fit of anger. He then proceeds to firmly swat everyone on the back of their necks to wake them from their trans.
Vermilion will cast Detect Magic to locate areas of potential danger or curiosity.
Geth roll 2d6+1
Nimue watches as these rooms seem to have such a variety of puzzles, from chess to golems to petrified dryads. How fun! "Well if these ladies didn't just jump up to charm the lot of us, I wonder if they aren't more statues"
The armored knight points to the basin, and then the constellation of the trident in the sky.
"There is a foulness about that receptacle, and the mark of the three-tined spear in the sky. Malign portents, my companions."
The paladin stares intently at the sky, the grip on his sword tightening ever just so.
Lig | L3 | Human - Druid | HP 20/21 | DMG D6 | AR 2 on land
".....Yarr!!"
Lig stops screaming as the reality of the painting's waterfall faded away.
"I've no idea the point of any of this Ur-Mage's madness. Perhaps he needs hapless fools to activate his traps, and we are playing the part.
Let's take a break from these paintings. It's a little much.
We do have two other doors on this side. I'd like to see where they lead."
Lig approaches the Door near the alter (on the left) and peeks through.
(By the way, were any of the doors visible marked as M?)
Specter, if you’d like to Spout Lore, go ahead.
Vermilion could tell that the basin exuded divination of some stripe, whilst the centaurs had evocations lurking in them.
One of the Dryads had a blinding amount of Divine energy. It was staring right at him.
The Ramrods
Lig could see the start of a passage andheard running water. He would have to proceed to investigate further.
Lig | L3 | Human - Druid | HP 20/21 | DMG D6 | AR 2 on land
Ligriv opens the door and investigates, looking around for golden eye motifs, or weird paintings.
https://youtu.be/BbiqE89OLuA
As you entered into this passage, you heard a tinkling of glass near the wall. On the ground, you saw disembodied hands wrought of black crystal scuttle away from a jagged crack in the North wall. Also along the North Wall, a semicircular font in the image a blindfolded acolyte poured sweet-smelling water from tattooed eyes on their palms into a basin, something glittering at the bottom. Along the South wall, across from the font, a glass case coated in a thick dust sat upon a square dais.
The Argent Specter stares intently upward, seemingly caught in a thought.
Geth, roll 2d6-1 for Spout Lore
The Specter stared into the void, trying to wrack his brain for the meaning behind the Trident constellation. It was then the 3 ‘tips’ of the Trident began to slowly grow larger....
Lig | L3 | Human - Druid | HP 20/21 | DMG D6 | AR 2 on land
Ligriv steps away from the hands scattering about the north wall and moves to the south wall to investigate the dusty glass case.
Lig cleared the dust away and saw a model of a black pyramid, topped with a statue of Death wielding a wand. There were figures of slaves and slavedrivers posed around the structure. After observing for a few seconds, the scene shudderd to life, the slaves perfecting the pyramid as the drivers whipped them on. A slave fell over, unable to work any longer. The slave was scourged repeatedly until they stop moving. A small misty substance escaped from the body and floated up until it was sucked into Death’s wand.
Team Ramrod
Lig | L3 | Human - Druid | HP 20/21 | DMG D6 | AR 2 on land
I was selected to await their return, but found no survivors.
I seek to return what I can of those brave souls to their home and family in the mountains.
I recognize this slave to be Marian, my teacher's brightest disciple, and the mentor who taught me the shape of the mountain goat. She was known to be prideful, stubborn, dangerous.
"Has a creepy model pyramid in this display of glass.
I witnessed a morbid vision of an old friend within it.
Not sure it's worth much treasure to the crew"
Lig mentions to his partymembers
The Argent Specter shakes his helmeted head.
"I...I can't remember. The Wraiths above, preserve me, for I am lost."
The armored paladin hugs his shield a little closer and his grip tightens on his sword, knowing that his grasp on this reality has slipped a bit once more.
"Master Nimue, Master Vermilion, what do you make of those signs above?"
Nimue will take a look at these signs and constellations that seem to be plaguing their remaining paladin, perhaps to help sort them out.
Striking forward, sword resting on his shoulder, Krolax enters the new room. Seeing Lig investigating the glass case, Krolax turns his attention to the font. He takes a moment to give a thourough evaluation.
There were several constellations in the sky, which corresponding with various sights in the night sky of the Sundered World. The tips of the Trident grew larger
The Ramrods
The font smelled of honeysuckle and spring, there were glints of golden and silver light at the bottom of the font.