What a crazy biddy, I think to myself, as I kick the west door open and jam it into position. And weren't gnomes supposed to be gooder than goblins?

I then amuse myself by examining the iron maiden, rack, the cage containing poor gobby's corpse, and the rest of the torture room. Maybe there are even goodies to plunder in here, incongruous as it may be!

Cal attempts to dramatically kick the western door in, only to have it only move a couple of inches and come to a complete halt. Something big and heavy was in the way. Like a big pile of stones that used to be a fireplace. Something like that. Cal quietly curses his own lack of tidiness and tries to hide his limp as he checks the torture chamber for any viable goods.

There's really nothing of interest save the goblin he'd just seen executed as well as the skeleton of another goblin inside the iron maiden, and while harvesting goblin bones might normally be an interesting idea there was the question of how Gary would react.

The western door resists my mighty foot. Let's see how it resists my superb sword arm!

Hack the wooden door into pieces.

"Gary, it's safe to come out now! I'm afraid your fellow goblin didn't make it. Do you know him, or his murderer?"

I take the breather to reorganize my inventory and do a little mischief.

Take 16 arrows from cart to put into quiver.
Transfer silverback gorilla pelt to cart.
Take flask containing gibbering mouther parts and pour contents down the hole.
Cut the rope ladder so nothing can come up.

Gheth takes a bit of time post-cleaning out to get back to prime condition, and then cautiously advances down the darkened stairwell to see if torches are present. In good spirits now that he's been healed proper, he decides to give their goblin friend a bit of encouragement as he goes.

It probably comes out a little more awkward than he'd planned.

Spend 1 surge
Advance down stairwell unless unable to see
Perception check: traps

Cal painstakingly carves apart the door, revealing at great length that it does, indeed, lead back to the fireplace room where they first entered the dungeon. That was a worthwhile use of his time; now he won't have to go all the way around in the extremely unlikely event that he needs to go back there! Having secured this extremely useful shortcut, he then eliminates the only possible method the gnomes could have to climb back up. Then he dumps some slime down the hole. Disappointingly, the hole does not begin to writhe around and curse at him.

"BIOLOGICAL WARFARE! WHERE ARE MY ENGINEERS? ASSEMBLE THE ATTACK TRAMPOLINE!"

Gary clambers out of his hiding place in Garrmondo's pack, gazing on the macabre scene with apparent disinterest.

"What, just because I'm a goblin and he's a goblin we must know each other? I respect you and all but that's kind of bigoted. Just saying. Besides, how would I recognize some stupid gnome? They all look the same."

Gheth descends the stairwell into a truly massive chamber. Several torches are mounted high on the walls, but visibly is still somewhat limited by the pale blue mist that fills the room.

The blue fog is pouring out of a portal much like the one he'd encountered during the catastrophic events in Lamid, but this particular gate seemed relatively benign. At the very least, nothing had jumped out of it to try to devour him yet. The soothing periwinkle was definitely an improvement on the bright yellow, as well. Broad steps lead up to the portal, which hovered atop a massive altar and was bordered on the top and sides by a steel frame. The portal definitely appeared to be a permanent fixture.

Judging by the sheer scale of the chamber and the massive flagstones under his feet, it seemed as though the room must have been carved out by giants. The size of the portal seemed to be consistent with this theory: it was easily wide enough for three grown men to pass through shoulder-to-shoulder.

But the clumsy hands of giants could scarcely have assembled the glass-topped display cases lining the walls of the room. The cases on the north and south walls were all at least 20 feet away, and he couldn't really make out the contents through the fog. On the west wall to his left was the largest case in the room, containing what looked like some kind of historical diorama. Six figures were poised in battle; Gheth couldn't make out the individuals on the other end of the case, but nearest to him was a very detailed miniature of a young black dragon.

Was this some kind of trophy room? Perhaps a museum? Gheth looks around for any obvious security measures and doesn't spot anything. It was a small miracle that no one had smashed the cases and made off with the contents by now.

Glenn walks down the stairs to join his dragonborn ally and is instantly fascinated by the diorama. His eyes pick out what appear to be two dwarves, a halfling, an elf, and a human. There was clearly an interesting story behind this piece of art, that much was for sure.

Glenn also gives the room a glance over for anything unexpected, more out of habit than anything else, and moves to examine the other display cases.

"My apologies, Gary. To me, all non-human creatures do look alike. I had just assumed you might know him, since you were three rooms from each other in this godforsaken place. I shall be more discerning in the future."

My mission to conquer the door and cut off the murdering gnomes has been accomplished, and I am exceedingly proud of myself. Deciding that it's not worth the risk to explore the dungeon further without support from my colleagues, I join the rogue and cleric in the museum. The displays catch my eye, and I spend some time admiring them.

Perception check: 10 + 12 = 22

If we are going to leave this place through a portal, there's no reason why we can't take away the booby-trapped staff of the Avalanche. I take the eladrin aside, and in a conspiratorial tone, ask to borrow some of his rope. After the entire party enters the portal, I plan to tie the rope to the staff, and yank it in when I enter.

After expressing his interest to try his luck at the portal maze, seeing as luck was the only thing getting them into and out of this mess, Puyet headed that way.
On his way out, he realized that Gary might still come in useful, so he boosted attempted to boost his morale by giving him a piggy back ride. Puyet followed Gheth down the stairs. The numerous displays amazed him, and he wondered if any of them were scenes from his studies, or if, perhaps, he had heard tales of them in the barracks.

Garrmondo and Glenn examine the battle diorama, finding something about it hauntingly familiar. It hadn't been so long at all since the fighter had sat across a campfire from Gabriel Sledgehammer, and here was the dramatic battle that the paladin had spoken of time and again. In a wondering tone, the fighter passes on the story to the newcomers that they may understand what a strange thing they are seeing. Even if someone else had spied upon the battle and created this strange tribute, why was the case so dusty? The battle had happened less than a year before, hadn't it?

In this rendering, strangely, the battle did not seem to be going all that well. Both dwarves were sporting grievous wounds, and the elf mage stood helplessly with a staff broken in two. An engraved marker on the front of the case reads:

"In Memory Of Hamfist's Harriers. Their Sacrifice Shall Never Be Forgotten."

Meanwhile, Puyet and Cal move to examine the rest of the cases. In the northwest case, a massive human-shaped form was wrapped entirely in linen. Was this a burial chamber as well? A small silver box sat next to the giant's head, the torchlight glinting off sapphires set in the lid. Neither Cal or Puyet can imagine what sort of creature might be under the wrappings (if any): an ogre or a giant would have greater girth to go along with their height, but the mummy seems only as big around as a normal man despite being 15 feet tall or more. The marker reads:

"Only the wealthy and powerful could afford this kind of ceremonial burial, as both precious metals and the preservative spices used in mummification are exceedingly rare in the vast Athasian desert. It was believed that by preserving their bodies, the dead might be able to live again should the gods ever return to their world. Needless to say, no divine resurrections are on record."

In the north case lie a small assortment of decrepit-looking books, all of them bound in leather or some other kind of hide. Two tomes lie open to pages near the middle. Inside the left book are an assortment of various diagrams, appearing to detail the internal anatomy of several unrecognizable creatures. On the right, the pages are packed top-to-bottom with an unreadable black scrawl.

"Demonomicon of Iggwilv, Volumes 3-7"

In the northeast case sit three bulky metal objects that the adventurers can make neither hide nor hair of. The misshapen thing on the far right looks much like the warforged-crewed boat from the stars that Garrmondo once claimed to have encountered, but the other two seem entirely useless for any function.

"Transportation for War and Leisure Among the Terrans."

In the southwest case are the immobile bodies of seven large beetles, all but one painted in various bright colors.

"The Gully Dwarves of Krynn take great delight in the nature of the common fire beetle, and often keep these dangerous insects as pets. Upon the beetle's eventual death their sturdy exoskeletons are often given to children as gifts, much like human children are given dolls to play with."

In the south case are more incomprehensible doodads. A tiny black box sits in what looks like a puddle of blank ink, and an oblong grey egg appears to be sprouting several sheets of unusually white parchment. Dozens of other strange things both large and small litter the case, most of them constructed of a strange material that looks unusually smooth but is clearly neither metal nor glass.

"Recovered from a Terran government office, function unknown."

In the last cast (the southeast) are metal tubes of various sizes, with obvious handles jutting out of each. Why you would want to hold onto the metal tube is unclear.

"Typical field armament of X-Com operatives during the First Alien War."

Several members of the party scour their memories for anything that might make sense of any of this, but not to much avail. Garrmondo certainly knew plenty about the dragon battle, but the display's understanding of historical events seemed to diverge with his. If this was history, it sure wasn't his history. Puyet spends a great deal of time examining the "armaments" case, but can't imagine any use for the tubes. They looked like little cannon barrels mounted on a crossbow grip. You'd rip your arm off!

Cal and Glenn look around bewilderedly for any clue that might make sense of the room. High, high up on the vaulted ceiling Glenn spots a banner dangling down. In large block capitals, it reads:

"PRIMITIVE CULTURES"

Out of the corner of his eye, Cal spots something moving in the diorama case. He whirls to look, but everything is just as still and quiet as it should be. Just a trick of the light, perhaps.

The X-Com and Terran exhibits pique my interests, as did a hint of motion from the diorama. But sometimes, a trick of the light is but a trick of the light, and nothing more. Surely there is nothing to worry about here.

More concerned with the consequences of liberating the display cases of their exhibits, I try to recall if there are magical wards that might trigger to our detriment. I covet the rocket launcher, laser rifle, and plasma pistol on display.

Arcana Check.

The word "Hamfist" seemed familiar to me, although I've never actually met this Argumentus fellow that the human fighter was telling us about. Then it hit me: I very recently read a book about it. Perhaps the volume about Bombastus the barbarian has something about "Hamfist's Harriers".

Quickly skim through "The Life Of Bombastus Hamfist, As Told By Himself" for clues about the diorama.

After hearing the story of the battle against the dragon, Glenn wonders if the diorama might be hiding some secret. Watching the figures in the case carefully, and preparing himself for the worst lest any security systems go off, he tries pushing the glass wall down on top of the dragon. He felt silly, but it was worth a try.

Cal puts his practically-nil training in matters arcane to use, and stares real hard at the whole room. He doesn't see any magical invisible lines or ghosts or anything. Coast's clear!

Shrugging, Cal takes the brief moment of quiet to read another few pages of The Life Of Bombastus Hamfist, As Told By Himself.

Despite his insistence on maintaining the third person perspective, Bombastus had been well-named. If nothing else he certainly had a broader vocabulary than some of his descendants. There's nothing in the book about a battle with a dragon — but even if Bombastus were the Hamfist on the plaque, he could scarcely have written about a battle that killed him.

Taking a long shot, Glenn tries to recreate in miniature Motsognir's triumphant demolition of the stairwell wall. He shoves the side of the case with all his might, but the glass doesn't break — the case just slides smoothly away from his hands, as if rolling on tiny wheels. Before Glenn can react, the massive display recedes completely into the wall. For a moment there's an visible case-sized hole in the floor beneath where the display used to be, then a similar display rises out of the pit.

The new case contains another miniature battle. A single man in gleaming platemail stands in the middle of a cemetery, fearless in the face of several zombies. On the other side of a low hill, a small group of brigands — a doppelganger, a bugbear, a duergar, and a halfling — crouch out of sight, as though lying in ambush.

The plaque reads:

"Thanks to the quick work of the mercenary adventurers called 'The Fist Of Kord', Lord Broden's famous broadsword was returned to him in time to fend off this assassination attempt."

My kleptomania getting the better of me, I open the display case of the X-Com exhibit and liberates the object marked "Laser Rifle". I have no idea what a "laser" is, certainly no craftsman I know. But a tool that can help me plunder more easily will surely come in handy!

Take http://www.ufopaedia.org/images/f/fc/BIGOBS00.GIF

With my new plundering tool in hand, I rifle through the Terran and tome exhibits with the greatest of ease.

Another diorama, another inconsistency. Glenn had heard news of Lord Broden's disappearance and presumed death when he had passed though Freeport not too long ago, while choosing a target for some minor theft to make enough money to get him to the next town. He never took any heirlooms of any sort - people were entitled to memoirs of their history. In the end he had settled on a particularly corrupt magistrate's gold vault, taking enough to get by, and enough to give to the small resistance movement in the area to stir up a little trouble and uncover a few secrets. If there was one thing Glenn hated, it was rich people thinking that their money made them invincible.

Glenn knew that Broden's broadsword was never returned to his manor, and that if this battle, like the one before it, was one which happened but had a different outcome, then Broden probably wasn't using the sword he held in the case. From what Glenn had heard about the sword, it was a fearsome weapon.

Not sure whether this diorama might disappear somewhere as well, Glenn decides to try pushing it back into the wall too. If that didn't work, well, he'd have to find another way.

Cal tries to figure out a way to get to the artifacts inside the "X-Com" case, but to no avail; there's no latch, no keyhole, nothing. And attempts to smash the glass are futile; Cal brings the hilt of his sword down on the glass cover and gets nothing but a loud thunk for his trouble. Worse, the display instantly responds to the pressure from the attack and begins to recede into the wall. Within seconds, it's been replaced.

The new southeast case contains an assortment of little cards, roughly the size of a standard poker deck. Each of the cards is like a little painting; here a knight charging into battle, there a bright comet streaking down to earth. All in all, 22 cards lie secure inside the case.

"The Deck Of Many Things has swayed the destinies of men and nations alike, bringing both treasure and tragedy to those who dared to pick a card. Do you feel lucky?"

Next to the plaque is a little slot roughly large enough for a gold coin, and a larger slot roughly wide enough for a playing card.


--------


On the west side of the room, Glenn pushes the second diorama into the wall — curious about what will appear next. The third diorama appears promptly

A halfling woman stands alone in a narrow hallway, facing a massive carpet of spiders. Behind her, in a pool of blood, lie the bodies of a burly human, a robed elf, and a dwarf in platemail. Suspended from the top of the case on a narrow string is a skeleton in a black robe, floating above the spiders.

"St. Brigid's adventures nearly came to an end here, when her second-in-command betrayed her and her companions for a demon's promise of power. She barely escaped with her life, and Hargast remained uninhabitable for more than a century."

Oh, a vending machine! I know just what to do with it! I see Gary looking at the cards longingly, and decide to give him a break.

Give Gary a coin, tell him to insert it, and take whatever comes out.

The Brigid diorama was interesting, to say the least. I know from the human's account that Hargast was where Garrmondo came in. He next got involved in an incident that entailed successful liberation of a heavy cake from an orc, if I recall correctly. I wonder how on Earth the diorama will mangle that.

In any case, I find myself drawn to the preserved rich corpse exhibit. Since the glass is indestructible and apparently enchanted to run away, I try various ways to impede the security measure.

Chop off the legs of the glass-topped exhibit.
If resistant, apply a few drops of black pudding on the legs.
Start a small fire under the display with flint and steel, using a few drops of oil as accelerant and a pound of dry alfalfa as kindling. Perhaps it might melt the glass!
Stand ready to extinguish said fire should it flare out of control.

While the changeling mutters about things he couldn't really have known, Glenn decides to see what comes next in the sequence of dioramas, pushing the case back into the wall like the others.

Puyet takes note of the tales and tragedies told to him and displayed in the cases. He decides not to play or tinker with the cases as a precaution. A good soldier knows not to muddle around with things he doesn't understand or can't control.

Puyet held Garrmondo by his pack as he stuck his head through the portal, ready to pull him back should any unholy force attempt to rip him through it.

Cal hands Gary a coin from his scant supply of cash, and watches intently as the little goblin drops it in the slot. The display issues a brief snippet of pleasant music as it dispenses Gary's prize from the card slot. Gary holds his hands out to catch the little card, and looks on in amazement as it rapidly folds itself into the shape of a tiny man waving an even tinier staff.

"Behold!" squeaks the origami man. "I am The Sage. I know all things! Ask me one question, and have it answered with total accuracy."

For a long moment, Gary seems lost in thought. Then his face lights up with joy as he realizes what question he wants to ask: "Why are they called bugbears, when they aren't bugs or bears?"

The origami sage rests his head upon his little fist for a few seconds, and then gestures for Gary to come closer. The goblin brings the little paper man up to his ear, and the sage tells him the answer in secrecy. The only indication either of them gives to the rest of the group is the growing look of nausea on Gary's face.

The sage leaps down to the floor, and bursts into flame. "A little knowledge is a dangerous thing, lad. Farewell!" Within a few seconds, the origami sage is just a tiny pile of ash.

"I kind of wish I hadn't asked, now. Ugh."

With all the logic and forethought that Melora gave your average owlbear, Cal sets to work literally setting a fire under a mummy's ass. Even as the first trickles of smoke start to rise off the smoldering alfalfa, a horrifying wail like a screeching harpy starts blaring down from the ceiling. All 7 cases retreat into the walls, and the holes in the floor seal over with steel panels rather than replacing the exhibits.

A tiny hatch opens in the ceiling, and water begins to drizzle down onto the group. The torches, evidently made of sterner stuff than most, continue merrily burning away.

Quite unable to continue his intended further exploration of the dioramas, Glenn turns his attention to Garrmondo, who's about to literally stick his neck out.

--------

Garrmondo leans through the portal, with Puyet keeping a firm grip lest there be danger on the other side. After a moment of disorientation, Garr finds himself looking around a dilapidated old temple. The room is practically cluttered with statuary, but most of them look to be falling apart. There's no torchlight in the room, but the temple is well illuminated by a large glowing orb sitting on a dais.

A young human girl wearing a comically oversized crown leans apathetically against the dais, idly plucking on a lute. On the other side of the room a fully-armored knight in a purple cloak paces back and forth, muttering to himself.

"I will... I will punch them all out. No, no. I will, I will push them all around. I will rattle all of their cages. Damn it all, what's keeping them?"

The knight glances expectantly at a heavy stone door on the opposite end of the room, but it remains closed. The temple side of the portal being in a relatively shadowy corner, Garr's disembodied head goes unnoticed.

Glenn glowers at the changeling; when Garrmondo had started recognising the people in the dioramas, Glenn had hoped that he might find something interesting within one of the later ones, possibly even including the group they were with now. His opportunity for learning what dangers the group's future held foiled, Glenn debates sneaking into the room on the other side of the portal, but decides to see if any of the others wish to try talking to those in the other room first.

I am deeply shamed after having incurred the Eladrin's disfavor. I am also rather upset at my inability to glean any insight from the somewhat inaccurate dioramas. I hurriedly extinguish the flame, hoping the security measure would soon deactivate.

Perhaps if I successfully retrieve the staff, he might forgive me.

Borrow length of rope.

Taking Gary aside, I asked in a hushed tone. So, why are they called Bugbears?

Puyet cringed as he felt the water hit the back of his neck. It reminded him of the year he spent posted in the swamps hunting down hordes of trolls with his company commissioned by a neighboring fisherman's port. What a miserable time that was.

First a giant blob that provoked a horde of angry goblins, then a unpredictable swarm of gorrillas, and now this. He had definitely had enough. Puyet yanked back Garrmondo and approached the shapeshifter. Perhaps a good whack could rearrange his brains in a more favorable fashion.