If Kronos Talon hasn't posted by the time I check tomorrow then I'll just go ahead and flip the coin. Sound good? Awesome. If that's the case then I'll just edit this post to avoid double-posting etc etc.
Dungeons & Dragons 4th Edition: Secrets of the Snakewood.
- Thread starter PleasantKenobi
- Start date
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Pieter remains silent, giving a nod to say he agrees with the flipping of the coin idea.
I did not post anything just cause I did not have anything to say. I like the coin idea though.
Steadying the coin on his thumb, Furgin looks to each of his companions. "Heads, we go left. Tails, right." The others nod patiently. After a deep breathe of stale, musty air, the halfling recites flips the coin into the air.
"Avandra guide our fate this day, please do not lead us astray."
He catches the coin in the same hand and slowly reveals it in his palm. A small head looks up at him. "Left it is then..." Furgin says. "Boindal, if you would be so kind?" He gestures for the dwarf to go ahead. "And if you could just make a marking for Kriv to follow, Pieter? I'm sure it'll be obvious but you never know, eh?"
"Avandra guide our fate this day, please do not lead us astray."
He catches the coin in the same hand and slowly reveals it in his palm. A small head looks up at him. "Left it is then..." Furgin says. "Boindal, if you would be so kind?" He gestures for the dwarf to go ahead. "And if you could just make a marking for Kriv to follow, Pieter? I'm sure it'll be obvious but you never know, eh?"
Boindal
"Aye, left it is then," Boindal says as he heads for the left set of doors. He is about to open the doors when he stops and turns to Furgrin, "are ye sure this door is not trapped?"
"Aye, left it is then," Boindal says as he heads for the left set of doors. He is about to open the doors when he stops and turns to Furgrin, "are ye sure this door is not trapped?"
Furgin frowns at the doors in the dim light of his torch. "Hmph, good point." He proceeds to check the doors for any sign of tinkering or traps.
Perception check for traps: 18.
Just to speed things up, I'll also do a thievery check now just in case he does find any traps.
Thievery check to disarm the trap (if found): 18.
Just to speed things up, I'll also do a thievery check now just in case he does find any traps.
Thievery check to disarm the trap (if found): 18.
Pieter walks over next to the door, and begins writing out a message to Kriv.
He steps back and smiles at his work, feeling so much better now that the chalk was in his hands instead of Furgin's. He then waited patiently for the others to finish checking for traps in the door.
Took the left passage, and because of the nature of this infernal chalk, if there are no more notes in this room, that is where we will still be. I will leave another note elsewhere in this room if we do happen to have to come back, and choose the other passage. Good luck to you when you find this.
-Pieter
-Pieter
Sorry about the lack of activity, been busy, and I was waiting for Red_Fog to post, but here it is. Don't worry if there are the ocassional couple of days of inactivity, with Uni and friends and stuff sometimes I might fall a little behind.
Furgin takes a moment to investigate the door. Once happy that there appears to be no sinister traps awaiting the hands of his Dwarven companion, he allows him to get to work opening the huge stone doors.
Getting a grip upon the edges of each door by sliding his fingers into the central crack, Boindal puts his weight into pulling the doors towards him. Slowly but surely, the slabs of carved stone scrape against the dusty tomb tiled floor, revealing another corridor beyond them. Every few feet the corridors walls recess into an alcove, housing another large stone sarcophagus similar to the ones in the first room. All sealed. All ominously tall, standing at seven feet tall.
The party make their way cautiously down the ten foot wide and forty foot tall corridor, resuming the marching order they used to enter the tomb. Coming to the end of the corridor the group carefully look around the corner to find another room roughly the size of the first, its walls adorned with similar carvings as the first. The room is empty, except for what appears to be a thick viscous black liquid that lies evenly across the floor of the room. There is enough room around the outside of the large puddle to move around the outskirts of the room. As the light from Furgin?s wondrous torch shines over the liquid, it begins to shimmer, and bubble in places. Each time one of the large bubbles bursts, a wisp of what looks like black smoke plumes into the air.
The dead silence of the tomb is occasionally broken by what sounds like the whistling movements of strong winds through city streets, yet there appears to be no wind at all within the tomb. The whistling sound manifests itself into a word that only Boindal hears, ?Sssssssacrificssssssse?. It is clear that the rest of the adventurers are oblivious to the mysterious word.
[http://s1087.photobucket.com/albums/j472/PleasantKenobi/?action=view&current=DragonTombE1.jpg]
Furgin: 23 - 6
Boindal: 27/35 - 14
Baldur: 16/26 - 7
Pietre: 20 - 6
Kriv: 20/29 ? 11
Boindal: 27/35 - 14
Baldur: 16/26 - 7
Pietre: 20 - 6
Kriv: 20/29 ? 11
Sorry guys, works been killing me as of late. Basically been coming to my room straight from the flight line, crashing, waking up and going back to work the past few days.
perception roll: 1d20+0=2. Awesome.
No problem guys, shit happens and everyone gets busy 
Boindal
The voice inside his head makes Boindal feel a little uneasy, "I think there be something in this room that is wantin a sacrifice. I keep hearin that word in my head. Let's see what affect fire has on this black stuff. Anyone have some flint and tinder?"
Thinking maybe this liquid is sentient or something, fire would probably make it uncomfortable. Any objections?
"It looks like the same stuff you had stolen, Boindal." Furgin remarks, sweeping the torch across the liquid once more. It hisses and bubbles grotesquely. "Something wants a sacrifice? You're not going mad are you?" The halfling laughs nervously, eyeing the shadows with suspicion.
"Wait," Furgin calls to Baldur as the human begins to move away. "How about we throw something in?" The halfling rummages at his belt for a moment before pulling out a small shot for his sling. "I've got this," he says, holding the round ball up to the light. "I've got some fire shots, too, if we want to see what fire does to it?"
I'm all for going to the other room, but as we're here, we should see if dropping anything in the ominous goo does anything? Obviously, it could all end badly, but I'm ready for that shit lol
Boindal
Boindal watches as Furgrin takes out a small sling bullet, "aye, before we head to the other room, why don't we just see what'll happen when we chuck something in?"
Boindal watches as Furgrin takes out a small sling bullet, "aye, before we head to the other room, why don't we just see what'll happen when we chuck something in?"
I think putting some fire in would be good, but I wouldn't want you to waste a fire bullet
Positioning himself at the edge of the black pool, Furgin tosses his sling bullet into its centre. He holds his everburning torch closer to try and see the effects better.
In Winterhaven
The shopkeeper looks up at Kriv as he speaks.
?What ruin is this? And what is a Dragonborn Knight doing in Winterhaven, aside from delving into the resting places of things long since laid to rest?? His tone is harsh, his eyes narrowed; an expression of disdain across his face.
The shop would be quite spacious if it weren?t for the rows of shelves cutting across the room that are cluttered with all sorts of oddities.
The Tomb
Furgin?s bullet sinks into the thick black goo, and for a moment, nothing happens. Then suddenly, the liquid begins to recede inwards, pooling up thicker and thicker in the centre of the room. The liquid bubbles and becomes far more animate than before. It fold over itself, over and over until it appears to take shape, thick black tentacles, curling out from the centre of the liquid. Within a minute or two the liquid appears to be gone, leaving behind a mass of thick pulsating tentacles. Each of the tentacles appears to be formed from pure darkness, an absence of light. As the shadowy mass squirms and pulsates, it begins to spread out until it appears to be taking up a large portion of the middle of the room. From among the black limbs a humanoid torso rises, it too a construct of physical shadow.
A hissing voice speaks, the words slithering into the minds of the party, ?You shall offer a sacrifice for the key or die, mortals.? The creature stands at around nine feet tall, a humanoid torso sits upon the constantly moving mass of black tendrils. Atop the torso is a head, with no distinguishable features except for two piercing white eyes.
Suddenly, Baldur feels nauseous, much like he did after being shot in the hand by the dart trap earlier. The Bardbarian leans forward, retching a few times before vomiting onto the floor. The feeling of illness is almost overwhelming.
The shopkeeper looks up at Kriv as he speaks.
?What ruin is this? And what is a Dragonborn Knight doing in Winterhaven, aside from delving into the resting places of things long since laid to rest?? His tone is harsh, his eyes narrowed; an expression of disdain across his face.
The shop would be quite spacious if it weren?t for the rows of shelves cutting across the room that are cluttered with all sorts of oddities.
The Tomb
Furgin?s bullet sinks into the thick black goo, and for a moment, nothing happens. Then suddenly, the liquid begins to recede inwards, pooling up thicker and thicker in the centre of the room. The liquid bubbles and becomes far more animate than before. It fold over itself, over and over until it appears to take shape, thick black tentacles, curling out from the centre of the liquid. Within a minute or two the liquid appears to be gone, leaving behind a mass of thick pulsating tentacles. Each of the tentacles appears to be formed from pure darkness, an absence of light. As the shadowy mass squirms and pulsates, it begins to spread out until it appears to be taking up a large portion of the middle of the room. From among the black limbs a humanoid torso rises, it too a construct of physical shadow.
A hissing voice speaks, the words slithering into the minds of the party, ?You shall offer a sacrifice for the key or die, mortals.? The creature stands at around nine feet tall, a humanoid torso sits upon the constantly moving mass of black tendrils. Atop the torso is a head, with no distinguishable features except for two piercing white eyes.
Suddenly, Baldur feels nauseous, much like he did after being shot in the hand by the dart trap earlier. The Bardbarian leans forward, retching a few times before vomiting onto the floor. The feeling of illness is almost overwhelming.
Sorry it has been a while, Uni is taking up alot of my time, then I was out doing cool shit over the weekend, like playing Magic and Dungeons and Dragons.
Baldur was poisoned by slow acting venom. You will take 1d4+2 poison damage periodically (per round) until a save ends.
How do you guys deal with the shadowy creature in front of you? It is a large creature, and thus takes up 2x2 squares in the centre of the room.
Baldur was poisoned by slow acting venom. You will take 1d4+2 poison damage periodically (per round) until a save ends.
How do you guys deal with the shadowy creature in front of you? It is a large creature, and thus takes up 2x2 squares in the centre of the room.
Furgin: 23 - 6
Boindal: 27/35 - 14
Baldur: 12/26 - 7
Pietre: 20 - 6
Kriv: 20/29 ? 11
Boindal: 27/35 - 14
Baldur: 12/26 - 7
Pietre: 20 - 6
Kriv: 20/29 ? 11
Furgin stumbles backwards as the shadowy creature forms in front of the party. "By Gods!" The halfling exclaims, fright making his voice higher than usual. "It's like a nightmare!" Furgin averts his eyes from the creature's piercing white stare, only to see Baldur vomiting on the floor.
"Baldur? What's wrong? Is the evil thing affecting you?" Furgin asks, placing a trembling hand on the human's back. A thought occurs to him: "No, it's poison. That dart was poisoned!"
"Baldur? What's wrong? Is the evil thing affecting you?" Furgin asks, placing a trembling hand on the human's back. A thought occurs to him: "No, it's poison. That dart was poisoned!"
Baldur
Baldur spits bile from his mouth and feels a cold sweat run down his back. "Yes, thanks for that." He leans heavily against the wall of the crypt and tries to compose himself. "Don't worry about me. What about that thing?" he waves a hand at the monstrosity.
"What manner of sacrifice to you require, monster?"
Baldur spits bile from his mouth and feels a cold sweat run down his back. "Yes, thanks for that." He leans heavily against the wall of the crypt and tries to compose himself. "Don't worry about me. What about that thing?" he waves a hand at the monstrosity.
"What manner of sacrifice to you require, monster?"
Saving Throw vs. Poison: 17
"The blood of an innocent." the voice hisses. The creature appears to slide closer to the party.