[DnD] Welcome to the Dungeon of Doom!

The dwarf unfurled the scroll, raised a brow after reading the first few lines, rolled it back up and tossed it at What About Bob.

"Here, you'll need this more than the rest of us. Being a big girl's blouse, and all."

Bane, however, he spat on the ground as he arched a brow. "Poor misguided bastards. Their belief so misplaced in false gods. By Kord's blade, when will the world learn?" He shook his head and set the statue back on the ground, picking up his share of the 25 gp, a full 5 coins, and left the rest where it was. The statue was possibly valuable, but a zealot like Gabriel was not about to go tromping around with a false idol in his pack.

There's nowhere I can't reach.

The dwarf glanced up at the larger man, shrugging as he pocketed the gold in his waist satchel. "Well, we might as well," he began "as we ain't leading but two things right now. Jack and shit. And Jack left town."

He clapped Argumentus on the lower back and began wandering towards the north door, glancing around to see if anyone else was coming along with them. "I suppose we did promise you a chance to see the other room, now didn't we."

Hefting his hammer up over his shoulder, Gabriel walked with the man-o-tard into the previous room, making for the north door...

This thing is sticky, and I don't like it. I don't appreciate it.

The dwarf blinks at Argumentus for a good long while, then with a slight sigh and a shake of his head he glances over his shoulder and then steps to the side of the door, so as not to be in front of it when it opens, presses his hand to the door and gives it a good push to slide it open. After the last time, he's in no hurry to stand directly in front of a door right now. He'd be slightly more cautious, but he'd seen that this slightly slow human was the next best warrior to himself in these caverns, so it wasn't so massive a worry. Besides, he hadn't heard any goblin-speak on the other side of this door. Just rats. What could possibly go wrong?

I am a dolphin, do you want me on your body?

The dwarf growled as the giant rat found a soft spot of leather between the hard scale of his armour. He kicked it off with a quick shudder of his tiny, stout little leg and whipped the hammer down in a violent swing at the group of large rats that had just attacked him, almost more on reaction than anything. He glanced over at the prone body of the even larger rat as it sprawled short of Argumentus, a slight smile on his face as he grit his teeth and felt the fever of battle overtake him. It was his second battle in minutes, and he knew Kord was pleased. Very pleased, indeed.

With a smirk on his singed features, he set his shield tight to the ground and readied for whatever was to come next.

Bolstering Strike
Second Wind

I was speaking idiomatically.

The Dwarf saw the northern-most dire rat take a chunk out of the slow human warrior. He saw the giant rat directly before him chittering and screaming in rage. All around him was fur and fang, not but chaos and unsettling cruelty. A normal man would have shrunk away in abject terror.

Gabriel Sledgehammer was no normal man. He was chosen of Kord. Disciple of the Lord of Storms. He smelled war and his blood boiled with the memories of thousands who had come before him. In times of peace he was uneasy, but in the throes of pitched battle such as this, he came alive.

His head jerked to the side, pulling his focus away from the giant rat directly before him, kicking it aside as it snapped at him. He shut his eyes, letting the sounds of combat echo into his ears, the ringing of steel and fist and the rending of flesh. It filled his senses, the smell of blood flooding his nostrils, and there... in the center of that monstrous scene he found the calm of the eye. His master's words echoed in his ears, heard so very long ago.

"Size matters not. Look at me. Judge me by my size, do you? Hmm? Hmm. And well you should not. For my ally is the Force of Kord, and a powerful ally it is. Battle creates it, makes it grow. Its energy surrounds us and binds us. Luminous beings are we, not this crude matter. You must feel the Kord around you; here, between you, me, the tree, the rock, everywhere, yes. Even between the enemy and your hammer."

As he slowly opened his eyes, a dull glow seemed to emanate from his small form. A slow calm creeping over his features as he tightened his grip on the heft of his warhammer. Slowly he shut his eyes again, his breathing becoming quiet and calm as he settled into an almost meditative few seconds. His brain screamed at him that the odds were near impossible. He should just strike out at the giant rat before him. The strike was impossible!

"NEVER TELL ME THE ODDS!" he bellowed, swinging the hammer directly at the open doorway where he'd heard the approach of the second dire rat, aiming to leave its head a bloody mess, if not fell the beast completely.

Divine Strength
Paladin's Judgment (with desire to let Argumentus take a healing surge)
The strike aimed at the Dire Rat on the diagonal near the doorway

What kind of toxic man-thing is happening now?

The Paladin roared as the animal bit into his hip. He felt the disease running through his veins, but he was not daunted. Kord would not allow him to fall. Not here in the darkness of some deserted prison. Today was not a good day to die.

He reached down and strapped the scale armour tighter around his middle to stem the bleeding, and gripping his hammer tighter he glared at the rat, speaking low and calm.

"I hate rats! You are defeated but you have no shame. You are stubborn but you have no pride. You endure but you have no courage. I hate the rat!"

With that challenge laid out, he reached back and lashed his hammer out violently at the dire rat directly in front of him. The creature with the audacity to sink its vile teeth into him, at the same moment, he slid back a half-step to draw the monster away from his compatriots who clearly already had their hands full.

Divine Challenge on Dire Rat
Bolstering Strike on Dire rat
Shuffle away one step

FELIPE NO

The dwarf found himself surrounded by rats, and he snarled his defiance before lashing out angrily with his warhammer, slamming it violently towards the bloodied dire rat before he quickly slid backwards another step, reaching down to tighten the straps around his calf, where the giant rat had again sunk its teeth in.

Valiant Strike on Dire Rat
Shuffle back towards well

What, you don't want my bikini-clad body?

The Paladin saw the slow human be torn asunder by the rat, his eyes widening at the ferocity of the creature's attack. He grit his teeth and ground his fingers into the hilt of his weapon. For the first time since he'd awoken in this godforsaken pit, he felt the mortality of the group.

No.

Not godforsaken. Never godforsaken. Kord was with him, and Kord would see them through.

"YOU!" He bellowed, gesturing at the elven girl. "Spellspit! If you have any gunpowder left in those mystical cannons, now would be the time, lad!" He gestured with his chin, beard flowing, towards the swarm of vermin.

He quickly slammed his hammer out again at the bloodied dire rat before him, looking to end its pitiful existence. His eyes swung up towards Argumentus.

"You! Slow human! To my side, boy! Get clear of that thrice-damned sea of teeth and fur!"

His voice was authoritarian and commanding, the voice of a General. The voice of the chosen of the god of War and Storms.

Bolstering Strike on dire rat
Shuffle back towards the well

Jam it back in, in the dark.

The dwarf sighed and glowered in the still barely alive rat's direction, trudging towards it with his hammer dragging on the ground behind him, looking like a six year old frustrated with a favourite toy.

For a long moment he watched the creature. The rat lays on its back, its belly bleeding in the damp basement, beating its legs trying to turn itself over, but it can't. Not without his help. But he's not helping.

With an exaggerated groan of frustration, he whipped his hammer through the air, aiming it at the fell beast.

Shuffle sideways to be parallel with Rat
Squish Rat like bug with Bolstering Strike

There's nowhere I can't reach.

The Dwarf nodded in the direction of the large human.

"Indeed, slow human." He ran a hand through his beard, slinging his hammer up onto his shoulder. He glanced around the room with a slight grunt and leaned his back against the wall. He was too dwarf to admit it, but he was feeling the effects of the filth fever himself.

"I don't know about the rest of you lot, but I think the brawler could use a rest, hm? No sense traveling with the bulk of our muscle dead on his feet."

He glanced around, trying to spot a defensible position, so as they wouldn't all get murdered by skeletons in their sleep.

This thing is sticky, and I don't like it. I don't appreciate it.

The dwarf winced in sympathy as the human retched, indicating the barrels in the corner with his hammer.

"Ale. You'll, uh... you'll need to rehydrate, lad."

He eased himself down the wall into a sitting position, letting the hammer ease across his knees. He groaned as he felt the toxins coursing through his system. He needed somewhere to rest, somewhere where he could take the team to heal himself, and hopefully the human, of this fever.

I am a dolphin, do you want me on your body?

The dwarf saw the barbarian pocket the gold and stood up to join him. He pocketed 50 gp himself and then glanced up at the man with a smirk.

"I like your hat."

He then followed the rogue into the next room.

"And what, exactly, is it keeping us moving in this direction, then?"

I was speaking idiomatically.

"Well then, I suggest we go catch some rest and then hit it until it's smaller than you and I put together, hm?"

He grinned and began looking around the new room, taking in his surroundings.

What kind of toxic man-thing is happening now?

He rolled his eyes as the elven lady began talking again. Running a finger across the edge of his hammer as he considered the drawbacks inherent to just breaking a knee. Nothing fatal, just a joint or two. Surely his god would look the other way in understanding. After all, she was an elf.

The talk went on for a long bloody time, and then he heard a door creak open. Initially he wasn't worried. Probably just the slow human playing with the kegs. Or the elf woman opening the south door like an utter slag. The south door where the thief had just said there was some giant... thing lying in wait.

It wasn't so much the concept of the elf getting eaten, or smashed, or crumpled by whatever was out there. It wasn't that. No. It was a matter of his fellow followers of Kord never letting him hear the end of it if this elf found valor in battle while he stayed behind and talked shop with a human thief.

He sprinted, as much as a dwarf in heavy armour could, back into the room, hoping to at least be within near reach of the middle of the room by the time the elf maiden was murdered horribly.

FELIPE NO

The dwarf immediately pulled up as he saw the giant blob moving through the door. On the plus side, it didn't look like it was coming after any one of them with any real sense of speed, but on the other hand, it didn't seem likely that giant jell-o pudding cups (not invented yet) were not likely to be overly damaged by a hammer. He quickly slid his warhammer behind his shield and drew a throwing hammer with his right hand, backing up a couple steps as he muttered under his breath.

"Thrice damned elves. More troublesome than children."

He wasn't about to start attacking the blob until it got aggressive, so for now he was happy to backpeddle a few steps and look slightly worried.

What, you don't want my bikini-clad body?

The dwarf growled low in his throat, able to see the elf's wavering form through the jelly's glutenous form, he again considered leaving the bastard there to rot.

With a sigh, however, he glanced skywards and muttered under his breath: "Kord, let it never be said I don't follow your path diligently." And with that he reached back with his right hand and yelled out at the creature.

"OI! YOU THERE! YOUR MOTHER WAS A JELL-O SHOT!" And with that, he hurled the throwing hammer he'd drawn earlier and stepped back, readying a second throwing hammer and setting his shield on the ground.

"Come get some" he muttered under his breath, setting his jaw.

Divine Challenge
Bolstering Strike with Throwing Hammer
Move one step away from the creature

Jam it back in, in the dark.

The dwarf glanced over his shoulder as the table flew past him, drawing his warhammer from his off hand in the same motion. The giant human seemed to have found quite the decent way of damaging the creature. An impressive feat of strength, to be sure.

A large, looping strike at the creature in front of him was quickly followed by a step to the side, keeping his eyes on the shuffling monstrosity.

Draw Warhammer
Bolstering Strike
Shuffle to the right, behind table

How ya doing, buddy?

The dwarf stumbled back, bloodied, but the sound of his kinsman's voice brought a surge of strength back to his limbs. He looked at the twin jellies and smiled. Good. Gooooooood. Let them create an army, let them split in twain until they grow small enough for him to mash beneath his armoured feet. In the face of such overwhelming odds he tossed his head back and laughed. A deep, resounding sound that erupted from his chest.

This dungeon was finally proving itself interesting. Kord would look on him with great favour this day, and he knew that deep within the bowels of this prison, the eyes of his deity were on him. The laugh turned into a roar as he swung his warhammer up in a devastating arc at the oozing horror closest to the slow-witted human and his kinsman. The followers of Kord turned down no battle when their cause was righteous. And the cause was always righteous.

Second Wind (minor thanks to racial talent)
Divine Strength
Fearsome Smite

This thing is sticky, and I don't like it. I don't appreciate it.

The dwarf stomped his foot on the remnants of the ooze, scowling darkly as he glanced around the room to be sure nothing else was alive and pissed off. Seeing nothing, he spat on the jelly and stomped off to sit down at one of the tables.

"Bollocks to this." He grumbled under his breath. His chest heaved as he sucked air and rested his arm on the grip of his warhammer. The filth fever was still burning in his veins, and he needed time to tend to his wounds. He was not, however, about to show weakness infront of the group.

"Oi, Captain Runaway," he began, addressing Fescue, "You took a look around. Anything else down here we need to immediately worry about?"

He thought, but didn't say, beyond the obvious bit where the elven woman would do her very best to get us all killed.

"Because if there isn't, I think the big guy could use a rest. He doesn't look so hot."

I am a dolphin, do you want me on your body?

With a sigh and a grunt, the dwarf woke up with a start. Sitting bolt upright he immediately grabbed for his head, muttering: "How's my hair?" before remembering he was a Paladin of Kord locked in a labyrinth of death, and frankly his coiffure didn't matter. He blinked, even his dwarven vision didn't allow him to see much in this TOTAL DARKNESS. Attempting not to wake up anyone else, he reached into his pack and withdrew a sunrod, striking it to life and tying it into one of the many braids in his beard. He took a long pull off his waterskin and was dismayed to find it largely empty. With a grunt he stood up and moved towards the orkish ale, looking to fill his skin and knowing he, as a dwarf, could drink diluted orkish ale all day long without so much as feeling a buzz. So long as he didn't slip and kill himself in the pool of booze, he'd move towards the southern room, from whence yonder jellies doth ooze, in order to get a better look at it. Those damnable Goblins had to get their water from somewhere, right?

I was speaking idiomatically.

The gruff dwarf motioned the rogue towards the ale after he'd introduced himself.

"Gabriel Sledgehammer" was the short reply he offered, listening as the human gave him the run down of their current predicament. He couldn't help but smirk as the man spoke of the long hallway with the iron door. "Might want to top up your water skin with some ale. Don't much trust the wells in this place."

He took a deep breath and swung his warhammer up to rest on his shoulder. He seemed to think on something for a while and then nodded, resolute. "Oh, what I wouldn't give for a holocaust cloak..." he muttered under his breath.

"Ah well," he exclaimed, "all I've got is what I've got, and there's no use crying over what we ain't got, I suppose." He slapped the human on the upper arm and smirked behind his still-singed beard. "Tell you what. Let me try my own brand of reasoning on him while you set up your wall. Maybe we can get him to open the door with the proper..." he paused, and then grinned, letting the hammer fall from his shoulder to crack the stone at his feet... "motivation."

Most amazing jew boots

The dwarf shuffled past both of them, grumbling under his breath as he hauled the hammer off his shoulder, dragging it behind him and letting it screech against the stones like the cry of some ungodly creature. He stopped short of the long path, to avoid being a target, took a deep breath and cleared his throat before starting in with a deep, booming voice.

"Oi there, doorman. At moment you are between where I am and where I want to be. That's unfortunate. Really. See, everything that's been in my way down here so far is long dead. Handful of skeletons, some goblins, and even a couple insects that breathe fire. They may have been dragons. Frankly, they didn't live long enough for me to keep track. Hell, I just got through sending some oozing horror from the depths of some conjurer's wet dream to the depths." He let that hang in the air for a moment before continuing. "See, one way or the other me and my friends..." he paused "and an elf--are coming down that hallway. What happens when we get there, well... that's up to you, innit?"

He tapped his hammer rhythmically against the stone wall, like a metronome.

"If you do not open this door, you and I are going to have it out. To the pain. I'll explain and I'll use small words so that you'll be sure to understand, you warthog faced buffoon." He increased the rhythm and volume of the tapping. "To the pain means the first thing you will lose will be your feet below the ankles. Then your hands at the wrists. Next your nose." He paused as the man went to reply, but cut him off. "I wasn't finished. The next thing you will lose will be your left eye followed by your right."

Again the man interrupted, something about the next body part he would no doubt lose in this little game.

". Your ears you keep and I'll tell you why. So that every shriek of every child at seeing your hideousness will be yours to cherish. Every babe that weeps at your approach, every woman who cries out, "Dear God! What is that thing," will echo in your perfect ears. That is what to the pain means. It means I leave you in anguish, wallowing in freakish misery forever." He grinned, all but slamming the hammer against the wall now. "It's possible, Pig, that I might be bluffing. It's conceivable, you miserable, vomitous mass, that I'm only talking here because I lack the strength to fight. But, then again... perhaps I have the strength after all...." He growled low in his throat, finishing with a flourish. "OPEN. THAT. DOOR."

Intimidate on random man behind big locked door with a crossbow.

FELIPE NO

"Right, well. I tried." He glanced over at the two gathered in the northern room and swung the hammer up onto his shoulder and shrugged. "I vote we kill them all." The broad grin on his features hints that maybe this was not a huge problem for him.

What, you don't want my bikini-clad body?

"Fine by me, lad. So long as I get my shield back when we're done, yeah?" He glanced over his shoulder and went trudging back towards Argumentus.

"Oi there, Thickness." He waved him over and canted his head to the side as he looked up, up, WAAAAAAAY UP at the gargantuan human. "There's a man at the end of that hallway with a crossbow who doesn't want to let us through. Now I don't think that's fair." He cleared his throat and shook his head. "Now, I've no problem charging down that door, but I think your thick frame is more likely to break it down than mine, savvy? Now, I'm willing to let you borrow my shield, since it looks a wee bit sturdier than yours, but I don't know if you want it or not. It might slow you down a touch. Up to you, lad. Of course I'll be wanting it back when the fight is over."

He glanced over into the other room, considering waking up the spellspit before they went charging in. "Well then, lunchbox, what say you?" The dwarf offered his heavy shield to the man, should he want it.

Jam it back in, in the dark.

The dwarf suddenly found himself without a replacement shield, and the hulking monster had two. Ah well, for what he was about to do, it was probably for the best. With a resigned sigh he wandered into the southern room and yelled out: "OI! ELF LADY. We could use a hand here, yeah?"

He kicked the table Motsongir had passed out at and then headed back into the other room where the rogue and the battering ram were about to move on the door.

"We few, we happy few and all that." He ran a hand through his beard and hefted his hammer off his shoulder. "I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm half hoping for a dragon." He grinned wide and tested the weight of the weapon in his grip. "Never got to fight a dragon. I imagine it's a barrel of monkeys. You know, but with fire."

There's nowhere I can't reach.