Once again lost in a fugue of some sort, Gra-fa-zut passively allows himself to be lashed to the 10' pole. As a watersoul, he's at no risk of drowning, and he has the good sense to keep his mouth shut as his head is dunked under the algae coating the surface of the pool. Almost immediately after his feet have been submerged with the rest of him, Gra-fa-zut's face gently collides with some kind of grimy obstruction. Curiously wiping the slime away from the apparently shallow bottom of the pool, he discovers his own face peering back at him. It seems the algae pool sits atop nothing more durable than a mirror. Nothing else interesting makes itself apparent, though Gra-fa-zut notices with mixed feelings that the dead rat he captured earlier was, in fact, just napping until being submerged (at which point it promptly drowned).

Not for the first time today, Beefi scours the walls and floors around him in search of some hidden secret. But in this search he is rewarded. With great excitement he spies a scrap of parchment peeking between two of the floor stones. In need of reading material to pass the time while Gra-fa-zut plumbs the depths, Beefi cautiously pries up the loose stones and retrieves the scroll. Carefully-inked letters on the scroll's containing ribbon identify it immediately: Beefi's found a ritual scroll of Easy Climb.

Murray's mocking laughter travels quite a distance. Somewhere above, an elf in a tastefully-decorated subterranean apartment drops another copper coin into a jar labeled "lava first". There's another jar next to it, labeled "scroll first" — but this jar is nearly empty.

Upon striking an obstruction with the pole (and face of his ally) Slim knows exactly what to do.

Looks like there's a hairball blockage!

He immediately begins smashing the end of the pole up and down into the clog in hopes of busting through. The thumps it makes are somewhat meatier than expected and he feels like he's forgetting about something.

Slim heedlessly bashes away at the mysterious blockage. Happily, Gra-fa-zut is significantly more durable than the mirror; it smashes apart after only 3 such collisions, dumping the stagnant water into a corridor below. Of course, with the precipitous loss of pressure, Gra-fa-zut is sucked down as well — and Uxig, holding the pole, along with him. They fall 20 feet into a dark hallway; the floor underfoot is raw iron, long ago given over to a thorough coating of flaking rust. The corridor continues south past the range of Slim's darkvision; other than the algal puddle they're sprawled in, no other interesting features present themselves.

Uxig gets to his feet, spitting out a mouthful of bushy grey plants; Gra-fa-zut remains prone, tied to the 10' pole and looking mildly cross.

7 fall damage to Gra-fa-zut
1 fall damage to Uxig, and he contracts Tumbledown

Garold patted out any remaining fires on his person, and took a break after he was sure he was no longer smoldering. Fortunately, entertainment was provided as the elemental once again got the short end of the stick (literally this time) due to one of his catatonic trances.

Spend healing surge.

After he felt a bit more lively, he decided to see what trouble Slim's destructive tendencies had gotten him and grape ape into this time.

Move to edge of pit and provide illumination with sunrod.

It looked as though someone had dropped a scroll on the floor, probably in a rush to avoid the lava. I picked up the scroll and put it in my pack, thinking to return it to it's rightful owner should we come across them.

In the mean time it looked as though Slim had indeed found a way forward. I hooked my grapple and chain onto the edge of the pit and slithered down the chain to the corridor below, leaving the chain for the others to climb down before waggling it free and stowing it back in my pack.

Wary of how many traps we'd encountered thus far, I tried to avoid moving around too much until someone with a better eye for these things than me had a chance to look about.

Feeling a touch on the woozy side Slim climb to his feet and and points straight up at the hole.

Well that's your problem right there.

His authority on the issue firmly established he walks over and unties the swordmage seeing as his super not drowning skills are no longer required.

Garold climbs down the chain offered by the minotaur and begins his usual cautious snooping routine. Whenever he finds himself in new surroundings priorities are given to determining a.) what might kill him and b.) which way to run in case of discovering something that might kill him.

perception check

The rest of the Five make their way down the chain, and Beefi shakes it free. It's not as though they can get back out of the tomb by retracing their steps at this point; best to hold on to all the supplies they can.

Even before his feet hit the floor, Garold's sharp eyes spot irregularities in the corridor's east wall. Looks to be some kind of door, carefully painted to blend in with the stone wall. It was a pretty good cover, really — the duller senses of his companions would likely never have noticed it. Of course, this door lacked any handle or any other obvious means of opening it, but if needs must they could always tell the kobold it had insulted him.

With Garold's sunrod at hand, the Five can see clear to the southern end of the corridor. Nothing stood between and a turn to the west except more rust.

"Almost there!", Murray offers, his voice oddly cheerful. "Nobody ever gets this far. Wow. You guys are really, really good. I wouldn't be surprised if you took down that lich with no trouble at all!"

The floor didn't look safe at all. Holding one end of my chain, I tossed the heavier end with the grapple attached towards the door, hoping that the weight of it and subsequent dragging to get it back would set off any horrible traps between us and the door.

Getting the chain back without incident, I cautiously headed over to the door Garold had spotted and listened at it, my eternal curiosity overcoming my fear at what nefarious device might try to kill us next.

Chuck chain towards door then drag it back. If nothing untoward happens, go listen at the door.

Nothing untoward happens! Satisfied that it's reasonably safe to approach, Beefi puts his ear to the door. It's mostly quiet, but after a few moments he hears a soft bubbling sound like a thick stew on the boil.

Gra-fa-zut seems the most affected of all by the panicked escape from the magma, his blue complexion going oddly pale. It's no surprise at all when he finds the secret door covered practically floor-to-ceiling with wards, curses and conjurations. With the right rituals and the necessary supplies, he could untie these arcane knots — but even then, it could take hours.

I had a feeling that Slim was about to do something destructive so I took a goos few steps back away from the door.

An injured goose flutters down from the hole in the ceiling where the algae pool had been, landing directly in Beefi's outstretched hands. A small ribbon on the goose's neck reads "Howard". Desiring to protect Goose Howard from injury, Beefi gently carries him away from the dangerous door. How odd, that a goose should suddenly appear in this place.

I slowly stepped back, keeping pace with the cow. I also took the time to hide murray behind my back for extra protection. I whispered, so only he could hear me.

"All right, Murray. I know you may be the big evil necromancer, or at least not entirely on our side and all, but you got any insight into that goose or this door? Cause right now all I got is throw the goose at the door."

Howard the goose didn't look too healthy but not wishing to see another creature come to any harm in this fell place, I did would I could to patch the little fellow up while continuing to distance myself from the door.

Attempt to heal injured Goose

The swordmage was looking very worried after inspecting the hidden door, and the kobold had that smashy look in his eye again. Garold decided to follow the rest of the group's lead and get some distance from the potential magic disaster waiting to happen.

He figured he might as well do double duty and scout ahead. Maybe he could find something better to point Slim at.

Move down hallway in cautious mode. If nothing deadly found see what's around corner.
Perception Check

"The colonel sat back when he had finished and was extremely pleased with himself for the prompt action he had just taken to meet this sinister crisis. Yossarian--the very sight of the name made him shudder," I said, readying myself for an attempt at opening the scary door. Touching it, I muttered some nonsense.

arcana check holy shit might be an awful idea but what the fuck.

Murray ponders the question for a moment.

"Well, you figure — I'm not an expert in magic or nothin'. I like swords, mostly. Swords and other pointy things. But the thing about any trap, right, is you set it off and then it's done! So you could throw the goose at it, sure. You'd lose the goose, and it might not accomplish anything, but it's worth a shot. Of course, that thing's got like 8 different traps on it and you only got the one goose."

Beefi does his best to splint the goose's injured wing, but his meaty fingers and generally low knowledge of avian anatomy guarantee that he bungles the job. Howard won't be flying anytime soon — not that there's anywhere to fly to around here.

Garold cautiously creeps round the corner and takes a look. The rusty passageway carries on at least another 100 feet to the west before exceeding the reach of his sunrod. There also appears to be a doorway leading south from the corridor, though Garold cannot see it very clearly. Directly in front of the doorway, a mace lies abandoned on the floor of the hall. It glows with a gentle pink aura, and twinkling sparks of many-colored light seem to orbit the weapon like bees 'round their hive.

Grimacing, Gra-fa-zut presses his hand to the door. This was a dangerous business, but in theory it's just a matter of breaking this line, smudging that rune, and — shit!

Gra-fa-zut immediately realizes his mistake, diving for cover. Perhaps an eighth of the door's many, many arcane inscriptions fade away, and a quantity of sizzling acid manifests abruptly just in front of the door. The acid reacts strangely with the rusty floor, leaving behind a large patch of foul-smelling black goo.

"That's the way! You just gotta be light on your feet, am I right?"

Howard waddles up Beefi's arm and hides atop his backpack, hopefully well out of the reach of anyone experimental-minded.

His brain aching and potentially swollen with disease Slim stumbles towards the door and does the one thing that truly makes sense.

Quick everybody stand back this is gonna be awesome.


Attempt to run at the door and flip kick off of it hopefully setting off the traps and springing out of the way.

"Hey Slim, there's a shiny magic mace over here! Don't you wanna have a look at..."

Garold looked back up the hallway to see the Kobold running headlong at the door, and failed to complete the sentence. Instead, he opted to step around the corner to provide cover in case any hot magic death (or pieces of Slim) came flying in his direction.

Despite an impressive leap at the trapped door, Slim's "springing flip kick" results in more of a "fumbling sprained ankle". The kobold does not so much spring away from the door as collapse against it with a dull thud. The rippling bolts of electricity that lash out at him are really just punctuation.

24 damage to Slim, bloodied

I sighed deeply, poked Slim with my toe to be sure he was still alive and then slowly meandered my way up towards Garold.

"I think he might be ready to try that mace now."

While I was down there, I stuck my nose around the corner, taking a quick look for any traps and/or nasty surprises on route to said mace, or on said mace as I approached it.

"Hey Murray. Do you think it's sad the most helpful guy to me is the skull of a vanquished foe with a vested interest in seeing me dead? I think it's sad."

Thievery check 18 + 17 + 2 (inq. kit) = 37.

I kept my eyes peeled, not trusting this dungeon in the slightest at this point. I reached into my pocket and pulled out the flask, taking a quick pull out of the view of others, and pouring a little bit over Murray's grimey jaw and teeth. Truth be told, my kind never really felt fear, but we did feel frustration. And this was frustrating. I was in a group with people who liked to lead with their heads, which is normally good, but this time it is literally leading with their skulls into things. So, a good idea/bad idea situation, really. At any rate, I had to hand it to the necromancer. He had designed an ingenious trap. Anyone who was merely inquisitive would either die or go home by now, out of sheer exhaustion. Unfortunately for him, I was a halfling and a greedy bastard with a paycheque on the line. And frankly, a little frustration is fine if it ends with a pack of hookers and a new pair of shoes. Not necessarily, but usually, in that order.

Looking down at his treacherous legs Slim swears that they will rue this day!

RUE IT DAMN YOU!

Burn any surges I may have left and stumble drunkenly over to see what Sam is up to. I have 11 now after my Constitution bump from leveling right? I no longer trust the character builder.