Later today we shall begin, around the witching hour of about 1730GMT. Prepare yourselves!
Late arrivals shall perhaps be at a minor disadvantage, but do not be dismayed. Total lockdown will occur starting tomorrow at 2100GMT, any who have travelled to the temple after that time will be left scratching at the black metal walls.
Taller than most humans (6'4), athletic but slimmer build. Long silver hair, with glowing white eyes with no pupils. Golden skin, almost metallic looking.
Bio
Born with a touch of the celestial, Wylan quickly drew attention from the village he was raised in. A baby with glowing eyes and gold skin became known in the area, and people journeyed to come visit in hopes different boons would be bestowed upon them just by being in the child's presence. Not all who came had good intentions, and so after a failed attempt at kidnapping the child when he was 4, Wylan was sent away for his own safety. Growing up in a military base, Wylan idolized the life of a soldier and trained and learned the same as he grew, training with the other soldiers from the moment he could reliably hold a weapon. Still, something in him tugged him towards helping the greater good. Upon reaching adulthood, he decided against staying in the military and set out to find his true purpose, and why he had been born in this place, knowing no one that resembled himself.
Before we begin, I’ll just note this will be a highly descriptive game, with the map being of a very simple design. As we progress you’ll gain access to more and more, and a link to it you can edit. For your first couple posts I think we can manage a bit of theatre of the mind.
Always ask questions about what’s around you. If it’s cool, like sliding over cover or kicking your dropped sword into your hand, assume you can do it. Make Investigation checks to understand more, not to see the obvious—I’ll tell you what there is, and never lie. I just won’t tell you everything...
—
Thraxxagar
Your eyes are slow to become accustomed to the light. There appears to be a large oval lamp in the ceiling delivering an amber light.
The outside of the temple of harsh, sharp and featureless. The room you find yourself in is covered wall to wall in inch thick grooves shapes like swans. Just swans, over and over, interlocking and overlapping.
Immediately before you is a pool of crystal clear water, 5 feet deep, you wager.
There is an odd panel by a clocked door; both are made of the reflective black metal of the outer wall. At a brief glance the panel has a vaguely claw-like image upon it that pulses red into black.
—
Satra
The light flickers into existence slowly. Red. You feel on edge already. The air is old and dusty. Deep cut into the walls are repeating rabbits, repetitiously running, trampling, clambering over each other.
Directly south you see a lever as tall as a man, it’s shockingly new, black and chrome. Beyond it is a spear trap at work, jolting up and down to a marching beat.
Of more immediate concern is a pane of glass half the length of your current room, revealing to you a separate neighbouring room! The light within it shines a sickly green. Within it a stately looking figure gets there bearings...
—
Roy
Green, but not as a forest. An oval dome above you, enchanted to shine a perpetual twilight of envious green. Fox-like shapes are tangled together, driven deep into the black walls, reflecting each other in infinite bounds.
As your gaze adjusts you eyes fall upon a distorted mirror. Your body rises and falls as you step side to side.
You must press on, no time for frivolity.
—
Billy
Damp, in a word. Seems this cubbyhole has been flooded, about 2 feet of water. To your left some manner of lamp gives off dim amber light, and you hear a droning buzz, like a bee.
The floor and ceiling are carved to a few inches in frogs, so many you loose count, so many you can’t be sure where they stop and start, or if they all have many heads, many limbs.
The door nearest to you slams open and close at an alarming rate;. Passing through it will require acrobatic skill to say the least, else you be caught.
—
Mr. Grungle
An opulent room lit in dim golden light, fit for the riches foretold. Lovely lion engravings on the walls, with heads in mouths and mouths in claws and that to in heads. What a marvel, such artistry.
Directly north you address your first issue. A creature of some sort, draped in rags. It’s peering through a long glass window the reaches from ceiling to floor.
To your right there is a broken, overflowing fountain. It has a headless statue in the middle of it.
—
Magnus
Orange light is so bright it’s near blinding after your journey. You shield your eyes as you squint at the room around you. Starfishes. Of great significance to the temple’s makers? Do you need to know more?
Right in front of you is a pile of stones and shells, easily 5 feet high. Beyond that is a shaded corridor.
—
Ashala
The light flickers on a bright green, and dies just as quickly. It comes and goes; you become ready for its changes in seconds. Moths. Darkness. Moths, like ripples. Darkness, recurring.
There is nothing here, as far as you can tell, just the closed doors. Is that the case?
—
Lialeth
A grubby light tries its best to maintain a grip on the room. Shadows are thick, all you can make out are broken contraption ahead, and further still what might be a rock or piece of furniture strewn on the floor. Then you see what might be an ear twitch...
You’re too focused on that to dwell much on the pattern of grooves all around you. They’re absolutely not what you want to look at.
The distinct smell of copper and sweat pervades the air.
—
Wyran
Darkness. Plain and ordinary. No soldier worth his weapon was superstitious about a little lack of light. A small room, you suppose. Just a few feet away a half open door reveals a dim, but amber lit pocket before another half open door, then finally a fully closed one.
Tracing your hands along the walls leads you to understand sharp cuts have been made into the walls. Something about makes you think of leaping a great height.
Your march has far to go.
—
All
You are soon aware the doors are featureless, no doorknobs nor keyholes. A slowly pulsing claw-like mark pulses very occasionally across it, moving left to right before fading to black.
[OOC: After this post I’ll get things down pat, but right now, is that everyone that’s joined so far?
Now is that time to describe what you do, and roll Perception to test your reactions, Investigation to take time looking a particular thing over, or anything else you can think of. Getting out fast is a fine option.]
Wyran blinks his eyes a few times, first trying to clear anything that might be actually blocking his sight before realizing it was just a darkness filled room. Raising his left hand, he touches it to the blade of his halberd, causing it to emit light. Caution in mind, he decides to look around the room before he moves, not wanting to fall prey to a trick before he can even reach the door ahead of him.
Actions
Cast Light on Halberd (Aasimar given cantrip) to emit bright light for 20 feet.
Then, use Perception to look around the room.
Driven into the walls are patterns reminiscent of fleas. Fleas feeding on fleas, you think. What a thought. There must be thousands of unique carvings.
The doors ahead are half slipped into the walls. What a unusual manner. Perhaps the temple’s builders are like the Easterfolk, and the doors are like paper? But no, they must be metal.
You see a few droplets of some dirty water 10 feet ahead of you, marking the dust. That’s all you can glean. Safe? Doubtful.
Wyran, you think of the stories you know of adventurers. You own no magical item unique to you. Perhaps you’ll take a liking to one a covetous, unworthy villain possesses, should you meet one...
Roy looks around for a way out of this trippy green room, moving slowly and carefully to avoid the perils of its wobbling floor, I avoid looking too deeply in the mirror if it can be helped.
Wyran studies the walls, the strange carvings perplexing him. Fleas feeding on fleas was an unknown concept to him, but he certainly didn't feel comfortable in this room, so he needed to move. The paladin moves forward towards the door, avoiding the water as moves towards the door, pushing it gently open to look further into the hallway.
Actions
Moving to the first door, walking around the water to avoid touching it. If I can't walk around it, let me know what I should roll to step/jump over it.
Once I reach the door, I'm pushing it open and assuming I just see the next door ahead.
Heading south at a steady pace, you’re relieved to have passed the mirror.
To your left, down a short passage, you see something twinkling on your ground. Palm sized, a device perhaps? Treasure.
A small section of the floor is stained. Something very old, almost gone. Not blood, or not red in any case. It’s light blue. It produces no scent. The stain is splattered back from the southern door
—
Wyran
You shunt the door open and proceed. You step lightly over the water, but feel a drop hit your head regardless. Looking up in surprise, you see the door was kept open by a gooey fungal clump.
It’s the same for the next door, odd, as if placed, but such a thing doesn’t grow with intent, surely?
The last door is closed. You see something, an illusion, pass across it from left to right.
Wyran doesn't like seeing the doors held open by fungal clumps, something feels wrong about the convenience of it, but he needs to continue through the doors anyways, so eyes forward. Something passes across the door, giving his pause before he touches it to open it. He searches the door and the frame around it, looking for oddities or something out of place.
The door is fitted perfectly. There’s no crack or space at the bottom. You see a grubby set of finger prints at knee height, trailing to the right. Checking at its highest point you find the severed, dried remains of a reaching fungus. It crumbles against your fingernails. It’s been awhile since this door was opened.
Lialeth readies his shield in one hand and an axe in the other, already uneasy with the unpleasantly familiar smells filling the room. What exactly was he dealing with here?
Perception to try to get some more information about the contraption and the suspicious pile of something farther away.
Wylan studies the door, noting that the fungus here was removed somehow, as well as seeing the fingerprints at knee height. Still, there wasn't much else to work off of, and only one way forward. He places the butt of his weapon against the door and attempts to push it open, not sure whether to expect resistance.
Action
Just an attempt to not touch the door myself, but if the door isn't opening with the weapon, his next step would be to just try and push it open, so you can assume either action based on what's possible.
Roy, always a sucker for something twinkling, stuff that twinkles usually sells well, goes left to inspect what's on the ground keeping a wary eye along the way.
You don’t have a name for it. Perhaps it’s from the unexplored southern isles? Their mysteries are boundless.
It looks up at you, then curls up and whimpers. As it comes to rest, its hide changes to match the floor. It attempts to keep up with the blinking light, but cannot darken and lighten quick enough to hide.
You don’t know a thing about anything else. The contraption seems ominous; it’s a chair with many thin, posable metal limbs that end in sharp implements.
—
Wylan
After futility, but wisely, trying to safeguard your skin, you must press your hand to the door. It opens sideways, slipping away into the wall.
Your foot is pulled forward by a layer of gunk that runs the length of the floor. Above you a lamp is almost entirely covered by fungus, and as your eyes draw along its reach you see a staff embedded, trapped by fungus against the wall.
Either side of the staff is a trickling waterfall pouring from a 1 foot hole in the wall, perfect triangles. The room is cooled by these waterfalls, and the air smells of citrus.
—
Roy
An amulet made of gold! It is shaped like a coin and has a latch; it can be opened. Such a thing must be worth hundreds!
Satra slowly presses herself to the floor, attempting to keep track of the figure in the glass without directly looking at it. She slows her breathing and waits. Watching the figure out of the corner of her eye, Satra traces the infinite rabbit pattern with two finger from a distance, highly impressed by the craftsmanship. And then her gaze lands upon the giant lever. Oh. *Hmmmmm*
The figure in the mirror is gone now. Satra walks slowly towards the lever, watching the walls, looking for signs of circuitry or moving mechanisms. She stops in front of the lever, rubbing her chin, eyes darting nervously. This has to be a trap, obviously, right? But, then again...giant lever. Can't just ...leave it....right?
Satra is checking to make sure she can flip this big fuck-off switch without immediately getting electrocuted or filling the room with lava or something.
Wylan
Wylan's face grimaces in disgust at the gunk running along the floor. His eyes land on the staff opposite him, but he worries about the flooring and how the water might make it more difficult to carefully move around the room. Sliding forward, he uses his Glaive to try and cut the staff out of the fungus, much like he saw was done to the door he just passed through. This place leaves him suspicious, and the growing fungus and citrus smell doesn't really improve that outlook.
Actions
So, I've been saying Halbred this whole time and realized that I actually have a Glaive. Never used that in an actual game before either, so apologies if I don't get the rules of it right.
Wylan is moving forward, and attempting to use the Glaive's reach to scrap the fungus away from the staff. If it falls, he'd try to pull it towards himself with the weapon as well.
Certain you’ve done good, you attempt to stow the mimic spawn. Oh. The locket springs between your fingers and attaches into your nose! It’s a mimic spawn!
The surprise attack deals 3 piercing damage! In addition, you suffer 1 acid damage.
Roll for initiative!
Geth roll 1d4 for Bite
Geth roll 1d20 for Initiative
— Satra
The figure, a slender person with pointed ears, armed to the teeth, passes by without noticing you. They even make a point of not looking at the glass.
All you can tell about the lever is the floor is slightly raised, just an inch, all the way from it to the other room. You know, the one with the pointed eared bastard armed to the teeth.
—
Wyran
It’s tough going, but certainly achievable. Make an Athletics check; trying to stand firm on the gunk so you can put your back into it is tough going.
His eyes slowly adjusting to the shifting light, Lialeth feels a twinge of pity as he realizes that the pile of garbage is actually a whimpering creature. "How did you end up here?" he says, putting away his shield and axe, then fishing through his pack for a portion of his rations. He holds out the food, gently moving toward the creature while giving the chair a wide berth. He wanted nothing to do with that bizarre contraption. "Are you hungry?" Lialeth asks, tearing off a piece of salted meat and tossing it towards the little hound. "A little bit of meat? Better that than trying to take a bite of me, eh?"
I'll slowly walk around the chair, staying as far away from it as I can, stopping right in front of the closed door.
Animal Handling if needed, though I'm not trained in it:
You just like, do it, honestly. You catch the staff as it falls towards you.
You have gained a Druidic staff. There’s nothing innately magical about it, but it’s well made and depicts and bearded man talking to a dryad. It’s a badge of office, basically.
Do you try to head north, or south? Or would you drink from a waterfall?!?
The journey here was long. Surely that was a silly thought.
—
Roy
You wrench the mimic spawn from your face, leaving behind six tiny piercings through your nose.
It bounces away, and lays dormant. You don’t think it’s dead yet (it forgoes its turn).
—
Lialeth
The little critter inhales the tossed food, revealing a terrible maw.
The two that were clinging to the ceiling drop down either side of you and barrel into their runt sibling, hoping to grab some themselves.
If you give up two full rations, you’re golden with these three. They’re not tame, and won’t follow your lead, but you’ll be permanently off the menu so long as you don’t try to get real close.
You gain 20 experience.
Endless_Serpents on
0
Options
Zonugal(He/Him) The Holiday ArmadilloI'm Santa's representative for all the southern states. And Mexico!Registered Userregular
Mr. Grungle
Taking a look around this new environment, the green-haired Bugbear takes out a dagger. He looks directly north, spotting the creature draped in rags, peering through a long glass window that seemingly reaches from the ceiling to the floor.
"Hey! HEY!!! What's your story? Huh?"
With dagger in hand, Mr. Grungle slowly backs up till he reaches a wall with the lovely lion engravings. If possible, he begins breaking apart any jewels, gold, or other opulent dressing and stores it in his bag.
Keeping an eye on the creature draped in rags, Mr. Grungle continues to scratch away any opulence in this room.
Displeased with the injuries marring his face Roy seeks to destroy this vile trickster with a dose of its own medicine, lancing the medallion's face with his rapier.
Wylan admires the staff briefly, then turns to the south, ignoring the water. He wants to get our of the sludge of this room and hopefully onto less slippery ground.
Her hands are both there...right there and *ready*...before the sense slowly trickles back into her. She still stands there for a few seconds more anyway, mind fighting body, before she finally (painfully, if you could feel it) steps away from the Switch. A small blood trail trickles down from the lip she bit down on hard while trying to gain control of herself. Noticing it finally, she licks it away, and then she giggles to herself a bit. And then she laughs, heartily, shaking off her mechanical waking-dream
"Steady on, then... and if that isn't the exact thing you told them you wouldn't do, and as if you're gonna be tripped up at the *first step*, heh heh...an' then rabbits, *too*, as if I wasn't savvy...", Satra draws Problem Solver and heads North, pointedly away from the Switch, stepping if possible now with even more trepidation than before- the Temple designed this trap for her and her alone, and she recognizes and will have no part of it. Problem Solver clutched firmly in hand, she heads carefully and quietly through the door to the North...
The light flickers on a bright green, and dies just as quickly. It comes and goes; you become ready for its changes in seconds. Moths. Darkness. Moths, like ripples. Darkness, recurring.
There is nothing here, as far as you can tell, just the closed doors. Is that the case?
"An interesting place we've found ourselves in. Is this another of your dreams?"
Ashala voice reverberates in dragonic at a whisper towards her ring.
Ashala sits upon the floor, flares her nostrils and listens to the world around her in a moment of meditation.
Two closed doors, do I perceive anything dangerous or curious in this meditative state. Slowly, cautiously, Ashala prepares her spear as a exploratory pole circulating around her seated self for anything hidden.
Lialeth's nerves stay steady as the runt's pack suddenly makes their presence known. "Ahh, you have friends I see," he says, pulling out more food. "A wise druid once told me that it's dangerous to go alone. Take this." He tosses the food to the hungry creatures, then watches with a smile as they tear into the rations. Satisfied that he's no longer of interest, he turns to examine more of his surroundings. Donning his shield and hefting his axe again, he peers around the corner...
Not startled, but made aware, let’s say. The creature turns sloppily, catching itself before it falls. It slowly makes its way, a step at a time, towards you as you peer around the room.
As chance would have it, you spot a little cylinder in one of the grooves. You could prize it out with the right tools.
The creature has no lower jaw. Its sockets are empty. You note it has flecks of gold on its otherwise filthy skin. Not the precious metal, no, just paint perhaps.
It reaches its arms out for you, batting at nothing. Hoping, you think, to strike you.
Roll for initiative.
— Roy
The spawn’s tiny body grips the end of your rapier, rapidly shifting from a melted pocket watch to bubbling jewellery box.
You have first blood, Roy. You have advantage to your next skill check!
You gain 20 experience.
—
Wyran
Another closed door. You see it works just the same as the first one. You hear footsteps beyond it, and a swish of what might be a cloak.
—
Satra
The door opens the second you touch it, slamming hard away into the wall. As you pass beyond it slams back just as quick. A quick check reveals it’s simply overworking itself, in some way broken.
Up ahead there’s is a room half collapsed in on itself. Blast marks char the black walls. Liquid silver, now set, hangs from the walls like strange art.
The floor is littered with piles of silver discs. 1 inch thick, 7 inches wide. They are not ordered in any way, or particularly marked that you can see from here. The discs are piled so high in spots you can’t see over them.
The room is entirely difficult terrain.
—
Ashala
Listening intently, you hear muddy stomping boots headed your way.
Around you, you find only one thing. A broken ivory dagger. Of no real use.
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Options
WACriminalDying Is Easy, Young ManLiving Is HarderRegistered Userregular
I...don't think I realized quite what the pace would be like. LOL.
Magnus, a curious lad ever since his youth, pokes the pile of shells and stones tentatively with his scimitar, suspecting trickery.
Wylan stands at the door and thinks briefly, but comes up with no good ideas short of just opening the door to see what lies on the other side. So he does, gripping his Glaive as he pushes the door open.
Ashalla collects the broken ivory dagger, and stands tall.
She remains silent and on edge. She collects her spear, and turns to face the individual loudly approaching beyond the door.
"Individual at the door, I greet you in this dungeon of Yonth.
This is not my home, nor do I have any answers for you.
Be aware that it my business to do violence, but not particularly my hobby.
I seek no needless slaughter here unless you do"
[OOC: Things will slow down, as Play by Post does. If anyone gets very far ahead (more than they should realistically), I’ll put a ‘to be continued...’ in my reply to them.]
Magnus, give me an Investigation check. Roll a d20 + your proficiency with Investigation. A high rolls gets you more information.
Type that as:
Geth roll 1d20+1 for Investigation
Or whatever your bonus is.
Of course, investigation takes time. If you aren’t too concerned, all you see ia junk.
—
Wylan / Ashala
The door creaks wearily open, Wylan. As light is shed across the room a terror lizard from the Book of the First Wars comes into view.
A door creaks wearily open, Ashala. Light creeps into the room, and in the shadow of the doorway a ape-ish thing stands ready. You cannot be sure they heed your words.
Wylan grips his glaive tightly and extends it towards the lizard person. He doesn't move forward, but he doesn't retreat either. He speaks simply but pointedly.
"Friend or Foe?"
I'm assuming here that Wylan heard none of what Ashara said previously and this is the first chance they actually have face to face to possibly understand each other.
Ashala braces for the swarming of moths upon the glowing ape, and relaxes as it appears no drastic changes arrived with their arrival
"I am willing to be a friend to those deserving of it... and those who can afford it"
Her eyes turn to the glaive, and she smiles.
An edge of desire in testing her martial spearmanship against it rises up, but her need for survival keeps her curiosity in check.
She could possible see others faring against this steel in her place
"I can see you would be a deserving foe, but no...
Consider me a friend if possible."
Posts
Late arrivals shall perhaps be at a minor disadvantage, but do not be dismayed. Total lockdown will occur starting tomorrow at 2100GMT, any who have travelled to the temple after that time will be left scratching at the black metal walls.
While you await your trials...
https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=he7smVop2C8
Wylan
Aasimar 'Soldier' Paladin
https://ddb.ac/characters/33707719/q4ijWr
Stats
Dexterity: 8 (-1)
Constitution: 13 (+1)
Intelligence: 10 (+0)
Wisdom: 13 (+1)
Charisma: 16 (+3)
Starting HP: 24 (10 +1CON + 13 chain mail)
Saves: WIS and CHA
Resistant to Necrotic,Radiant
Darkvision
Equipment: Glaive, Longsword, Javelin, Amulet (Holy Symbol), Backpack, Bedroll, Clothes, Dice Set, Mess Kit, Rope (50 feet), Tinderbox, Torch, Waterskin
Speed: 30
Description
Bio
Before we begin, I’ll just note this will be a highly descriptive game, with the map being of a very simple design. As we progress you’ll gain access to more and more, and a link to it you can edit. For your first couple posts I think we can manage a bit of theatre of the mind.
Always ask questions about what’s around you. If it’s cool, like sliding over cover or kicking your dropped sword into your hand, assume you can do it. Make Investigation checks to understand more, not to see the obvious—I’ll tell you what there is, and never lie. I just won’t tell you everything...
—
Thraxxagar
Your eyes are slow to become accustomed to the light. There appears to be a large oval lamp in the ceiling delivering an amber light.
The outside of the temple of harsh, sharp and featureless. The room you find yourself in is covered wall to wall in inch thick grooves shapes like swans. Just swans, over and over, interlocking and overlapping.
Immediately before you is a pool of crystal clear water, 5 feet deep, you wager.
There is an odd panel by a clocked door; both are made of the reflective black metal of the outer wall. At a brief glance the panel has a vaguely claw-like image upon it that pulses red into black.
—
Satra
The light flickers into existence slowly. Red. You feel on edge already. The air is old and dusty. Deep cut into the walls are repeating rabbits, repetitiously running, trampling, clambering over each other.
Directly south you see a lever as tall as a man, it’s shockingly new, black and chrome. Beyond it is a spear trap at work, jolting up and down to a marching beat.
Of more immediate concern is a pane of glass half the length of your current room, revealing to you a separate neighbouring room! The light within it shines a sickly green. Within it a stately looking figure gets there bearings...
—
Roy
Green, but not as a forest. An oval dome above you, enchanted to shine a perpetual twilight of envious green. Fox-like shapes are tangled together, driven deep into the black walls, reflecting each other in infinite bounds.
As your gaze adjusts you eyes fall upon a distorted mirror. Your body rises and falls as you step side to side.
You must press on, no time for frivolity.
—
Billy
Damp, in a word. Seems this cubbyhole has been flooded, about 2 feet of water. To your left some manner of lamp gives off dim amber light, and you hear a droning buzz, like a bee.
The floor and ceiling are carved to a few inches in frogs, so many you loose count, so many you can’t be sure where they stop and start, or if they all have many heads, many limbs.
The door nearest to you slams open and close at an alarming rate;. Passing through it will require acrobatic skill to say the least, else you be caught.
—
Mr. Grungle
An opulent room lit in dim golden light, fit for the riches foretold. Lovely lion engravings on the walls, with heads in mouths and mouths in claws and that to in heads. What a marvel, such artistry.
Directly north you address your first issue. A creature of some sort, draped in rags. It’s peering through a long glass window the reaches from ceiling to floor.
To your right there is a broken, overflowing fountain. It has a headless statue in the middle of it.
—
Magnus
Orange light is so bright it’s near blinding after your journey. You shield your eyes as you squint at the room around you. Starfishes. Of great significance to the temple’s makers? Do you need to know more?
Right in front of you is a pile of stones and shells, easily 5 feet high. Beyond that is a shaded corridor.
—
Ashala
The light flickers on a bright green, and dies just as quickly. It comes and goes; you become ready for its changes in seconds. Moths. Darkness. Moths, like ripples. Darkness, recurring.
There is nothing here, as far as you can tell, just the closed doors. Is that the case?
—
Lialeth
A grubby light tries its best to maintain a grip on the room. Shadows are thick, all you can make out are broken contraption ahead, and further still what might be a rock or piece of furniture strewn on the floor. Then you see what might be an ear twitch...
You’re too focused on that to dwell much on the pattern of grooves all around you. They’re absolutely not what you want to look at.
The distinct smell of copper and sweat pervades the air.
—
Wyran
Darkness. Plain and ordinary. No soldier worth his weapon was superstitious about a little lack of light. A small room, you suppose. Just a few feet away a half open door reveals a dim, but amber lit pocket before another half open door, then finally a fully closed one.
Tracing your hands along the walls leads you to understand sharp cuts have been made into the walls. Something about makes you think of leaping a great height.
Your march has far to go.
—
All
You are soon aware the doors are featureless, no doorknobs nor keyholes. A slowly pulsing claw-like mark pulses very occasionally across it, moving left to right before fading to black.
[OOC: After this post I’ll get things down pat, but right now, is that everyone that’s joined so far?
Now is that time to describe what you do, and roll Perception to test your reactions, Investigation to take time looking a particular thing over, or anything else you can think of. Getting out fast is a fine option.]
Actions
Then, use Perception to look around the room.
Geth, roll 1d20+1 for Perception
Driven into the walls are patterns reminiscent of fleas. Fleas feeding on fleas, you think. What a thought. There must be thousands of unique carvings.
The doors ahead are half slipped into the walls. What a unusual manner. Perhaps the temple’s builders are like the Easterfolk, and the doors are like paper? But no, they must be metal.
You see a few droplets of some dirty water 10 feet ahead of you, marking the dust. That’s all you can glean. Safe? Doubtful.
Wyran, you think of the stories you know of adventurers. You own no magical item unique to you. Perhaps you’ll take a liking to one a covetous, unworthy villain possesses, should you meet one...
Geth, roll 1d20+3 for Perception
Wyran studies the walls, the strange carvings perplexing him. Fleas feeding on fleas was an unknown concept to him, but he certainly didn't feel comfortable in this room, so he needed to move. The paladin moves forward towards the door, avoiding the water as moves towards the door, pushing it gently open to look further into the hallway.
Actions
Once I reach the door, I'm pushing it open and assuming I just see the next door ahead.
Heading south at a steady pace, you’re relieved to have passed the mirror.
To your left, down a short passage, you see something twinkling on your ground. Palm sized, a device perhaps? Treasure.
A small section of the floor is stained. Something very old, almost gone. Not blood, or not red in any case. It’s light blue. It produces no scent. The stain is splattered back from the southern door
—
Wyran
You shunt the door open and proceed. You step lightly over the water, but feel a drop hit your head regardless. Looking up in surprise, you see the door was kept open by a gooey fungal clump.
It’s the same for the next door, odd, as if placed, but such a thing doesn’t grow with intent, surely?
The last door is closed. You see something, an illusion, pass across it from left to right.
What do you do?
Wyran doesn't like seeing the doors held open by fungal clumps, something feels wrong about the convenience of it, but he needs to continue through the doors anyways, so eyes forward. Something passes across the door, giving his pause before he touches it to open it. He searches the door and the frame around it, looking for oddities or something out of place.
Actions
Geth roll 1d20 for Investigation
The door is fitted perfectly. There’s no crack or space at the bottom. You see a grubby set of finger prints at knee height, trailing to the right. Checking at its highest point you find the severed, dried remains of a reaching fungus. It crumbles against your fingernails. It’s been awhile since this door was opened.
Geth roll 1d20+3 for Perception
Wylan studies the door, noting that the fungus here was removed somehow, as well as seeing the fingerprints at knee height. Still, there wasn't much else to work off of, and only one way forward. He places the butt of his weapon against the door and attempts to push it open, not sure whether to expect resistance.
Action
You don’t have a name for it. Perhaps it’s from the unexplored southern isles? Their mysteries are boundless.
It looks up at you, then curls up and whimpers. As it comes to rest, its hide changes to match the floor. It attempts to keep up with the blinking light, but cannot darken and lighten quick enough to hide.
You don’t know a thing about anything else. The contraption seems ominous; it’s a chair with many thin, posable metal limbs that end in sharp implements.
—
Wylan
After futility, but wisely, trying to safeguard your skin, you must press your hand to the door. It opens sideways, slipping away into the wall.
Your foot is pulled forward by a layer of gunk that runs the length of the floor. Above you a lamp is almost entirely covered by fungus, and as your eyes draw along its reach you see a staff embedded, trapped by fungus against the wall.
Either side of the staff is a trickling waterfall pouring from a 1 foot hole in the wall, perfect triangles. The room is cooled by these waterfalls, and the air smells of citrus.
—
Roy
An amulet made of gold! It is shaped like a coin and has a latch; it can be opened. Such a thing must be worth hundreds!
Amulet. Nice.
Satra slowly presses herself to the floor, attempting to keep track of the figure in the glass without directly looking at it. She slows her breathing and waits. Watching the figure out of the corner of her eye, Satra traces the infinite rabbit pattern with two finger from a distance, highly impressed by the craftsmanship. And then her gaze lands upon the giant lever. Oh. *Hmmmmm*
The figure in the mirror is gone now. Satra walks slowly towards the lever, watching the walls, looking for signs of circuitry or moving mechanisms. She stops in front of the lever, rubbing her chin, eyes darting nervously. This has to be a trap, obviously, right? But, then again...giant lever. Can't just ...leave it....right?
Geth, roll 1d20 for Investigation
Wylan's face grimaces in disgust at the gunk running along the floor. His eyes land on the staff opposite him, but he worries about the flooring and how the water might make it more difficult to carefully move around the room. Sliding forward, he uses his Glaive to try and cut the staff out of the fungus, much like he saw was done to the door he just passed through. This place leaves him suspicious, and the growing fungus and citrus smell doesn't really improve that outlook.
Actions
Wylan is moving forward, and attempting to use the Glaive's reach to scrap the fungus away from the staff. If it falls, he'd try to pull it towards himself with the weapon as well.
Certain you’ve done good, you attempt to stow the mimic spawn. Oh. The locket springs between your fingers and attaches into your nose! It’s a mimic spawn!
The surprise attack deals 3 piercing damage! In addition, you suffer 1 acid damage.
Roll for initiative!
Geth roll 1d4 for Bite
Geth roll 1d20 for Initiative
—
Satra
The figure, a slender person with pointed ears, armed to the teeth, passes by without noticing you. They even make a point of not looking at the glass.
All you can tell about the lever is the floor is slightly raised, just an inch, all the way from it to the other room. You know, the one with the pointed eared bastard armed to the teeth.
—
Wyran
It’s tough going, but certainly achievable. Make an Athletics check; trying to stand firm on the gunk so you can put your back into it is tough going.
The bite hits right to the bone (or cartilage if you want to be picky), and the pain knocks you prone!
Geth roll 1d20 for Piercing Injury
Geth, roll 1d8+5 for rapier damage
Animal Handling if needed, though I'm not trained in it:
Geth roll 1d20+1 for Animal Handling?
You just like, do it, honestly. You catch the staff as it falls towards you.
You have gained a Druidic staff. There’s nothing innately magical about it, but it’s well made and depicts and bearded man talking to a dryad. It’s a badge of office, basically.
Do you try to head north, or south? Or would you drink from a waterfall?!?
The journey here was long. Surely that was a silly thought.
—
Roy
You wrench the mimic spawn from your face, leaving behind six tiny piercings through your nose.
It bounces away, and lays dormant. You don’t think it’s dead yet (it forgoes its turn).
—
Lialeth
The little critter inhales the tossed food, revealing a terrible maw.
The two that were clinging to the ceiling drop down either side of you and barrel into their runt sibling, hoping to grab some themselves.
If you give up two full rations, you’re golden with these three. They’re not tame, and won’t follow your lead, but you’ll be permanently off the menu so long as you don’t try to get real close.
You gain 20 experience.
Taking a look around this new environment, the green-haired Bugbear takes out a dagger. He looks directly north, spotting the creature draped in rags, peering through a long glass window that seemingly reaches from the ceiling to the floor.
"Hey! HEY!!! What's your story? Huh?"
With dagger in hand, Mr. Grungle slowly backs up till he reaches a wall with the lovely lion engravings. If possible, he begins breaking apart any jewels, gold, or other opulent dressing and stores it in his bag.
Keeping an eye on the creature draped in rags, Mr. Grungle continues to scratch away any opulence in this room.
Geth, roll 1d8+5 for rapier damage
Wylan admires the staff briefly, then turns to the south, ignoring the water. He wants to get our of the sludge of this room and hopefully onto less slippery ground.
Her hands are both there...right there and *ready*...before the sense slowly trickles back into her. She still stands there for a few seconds more anyway, mind fighting body, before she finally (painfully, if you could feel it) steps away from the Switch. A small blood trail trickles down from the lip she bit down on hard while trying to gain control of herself. Noticing it finally, she licks it away, and then she giggles to herself a bit. And then she laughs, heartily, shaking off her mechanical waking-dream
"Steady on, then... and if that isn't the exact thing you told them you wouldn't do, and as if you're gonna be tripped up at the *first step*, heh heh...an' then rabbits, *too*, as if I wasn't savvy...", Satra draws Problem Solver and heads North, pointedly away from the Switch, stepping if possible now with even more trepidation than before- the Temple designed this trap for her and her alone, and she recognizes and will have no part of it. Problem Solver clutched firmly in hand, she heads carefully and quietly through the door to the North...
"An interesting place we've found ourselves in. Is this another of your dreams?"
Ashala voice reverberates in dragonic at a whisper towards her ring.
Ashala sits upon the floor, flares her nostrils and listens to the world around her in a moment of meditation.
Two closed doors, do I perceive anything dangerous or curious in this meditative state. Slowly, cautiously, Ashala prepares her spear as a exploratory pole circulating around her seated self for anything hidden.
Geth, roll 1d20+4 for Perception
Not startled, but made aware, let’s say. The creature turns sloppily, catching itself before it falls. It slowly makes its way, a step at a time, towards you as you peer around the room.
As chance would have it, you spot a little cylinder in one of the grooves. You could prize it out with the right tools.
The creature has no lower jaw. Its sockets are empty. You note it has flecks of gold on its otherwise filthy skin. Not the precious metal, no, just paint perhaps.
It reaches its arms out for you, batting at nothing. Hoping, you think, to strike you.
Roll for initiative.
—
Roy
The spawn’s tiny body grips the end of your rapier, rapidly shifting from a melted pocket watch to bubbling jewellery box.
You have first blood, Roy. You have advantage to your next skill check!
You gain 20 experience.
—
Wyran
Another closed door. You see it works just the same as the first one. You hear footsteps beyond it, and a swish of what might be a cloak.
—
Satra
The door opens the second you touch it, slamming hard away into the wall. As you pass beyond it slams back just as quick. A quick check reveals it’s simply overworking itself, in some way broken.
Up ahead there’s is a room half collapsed in on itself. Blast marks char the black walls. Liquid silver, now set, hangs from the walls like strange art.
The floor is littered with piles of silver discs. 1 inch thick, 7 inches wide. They are not ordered in any way, or particularly marked that you can see from here. The discs are piled so high in spots you can’t see over them.
The room is entirely difficult terrain.
—
Ashala
Listening intently, you hear muddy stomping boots headed your way.
Around you, you find only one thing. A broken ivory dagger. Of no real use.
Magnus, a curious lad ever since his youth, pokes the pile of shells and stones tentatively with his scimitar, suspecting trickery.
Not sure what to roll here.
Wylan stands at the door and thinks briefly, but comes up with no good ideas short of just opening the door to see what lies on the other side. So he does, gripping his Glaive as he pushes the door open.
Ashalla collects the broken ivory dagger, and stands tall.
She remains silent and on edge. She collects her spear, and turns to face the individual loudly approaching beyond the door.
"Individual at the door, I greet you in this dungeon of Yonth.
This is not my home, nor do I have any answers for you.
Be aware that it my business to do violence, but not particularly my hobby.
I seek no needless slaughter here unless you do"
Magnus, give me an Investigation check. Roll a d20 + your proficiency with Investigation. A high rolls gets you more information.
Type that as:
Geth roll 1d20+1 for Investigation
Or whatever your bonus is.
Of course, investigation takes time. If you aren’t too concerned, all you see ia junk.
—
Wylan / Ashala
The door creaks wearily open, Wylan. As light is shed across the room a terror lizard from the Book of the First Wars comes into view.
A door creaks wearily open, Ashala. Light creeps into the room, and in the shadow of the doorway a ape-ish thing stands ready. You cannot be sure they heed your words.
What do you do?
—
Wylan grips his glaive tightly and extends it towards the lizard person. He doesn't move forward, but he doesn't retreat either. He speaks simply but pointedly.
"Friend or Foe?"
Ashala braces for the swarming of moths upon the glowing ape, and relaxes as it appears no drastic changes arrived with their arrival
"I am willing to be a friend to those deserving of it... and those who can afford it"
Her eyes turn to the glaive, and she smiles.
An edge of desire in testing her martial spearmanship against it rises up, but her need for survival keeps her curiosity in check.
She could possible see others faring against this steel in her place
"I can see you would be a deserving foe, but no...
Consider me a friend if possible."