[DnD] Welcome to the Dungeon of Doom!

The dwarf drew himself up, muttering in frustration and brushing off his dwarven armour. The light in his beard glowed dully as he called up: "I think I found the bottom!"

He used the light to look around where he'd fallen, rubbing his ribs sorely. They'd be bruised, no doubt, but he'd be fine. He kicked at the rusty blades lightly with a mailed toe, shaking his head at his own idiocy. Should have sent the thief first. They're good at finding traps. And holes. Then he chuckled. Evidently he was also good at finding holes. Mostly he kicked around seeing if there was anything interesting down here before the people showed up at the lip of the hole. He had a rope in his pack, he was fairly certain. And mostly he was just upset for falling prey to the simplest of tricks.

FELIPE NO

The thought of all that delicious algae was making Argumentus too hungry. He put the book down and approached the hole where the dwarf had fallen in.

"Short man fall down? You need hep short man?"

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

The dwarf rubbed his head, still a little sore from his tumble. He glanced up when the big man called out and then reached into his pack while he yelled up. "That I do, Unreasonably Tall Human." Reaching into his pack, he pulled out one end of his heavy hempen rope and tied his throwing hammer to one end. Swinging it in a quick circle, until he heard the air hum, he flipped it up, deliberately to Argumentus' side so as not to whack him in the chin with the thing.

"Do us a favour, mate? Either tie it off or hold on tight. Climbing up won't be a problem. Not half as sheer as the time I scaled the cliffs of insanity with the man in black hot on my heels. Hell, I even have a giant again, don't I?" He laughed to himself and looked around to see if there was anything worth taking up with him.

Jam it back in, in the dark.

Not quite understanding Gabriel's instructions, Argumentus employs his retarded strength and rapidly pulls the rope up, dwarf and all.

How ya doing, buddy?

I had been proved correct and the door was open. I sat for a moment, basking in my own brilliance before a crash and some muffled cursing drew my attention. Getting up, I tossed the filthy cape back to the rogue, picked up the book and headed over to investigate the commotion. In the next corridor was a deep pit and I saw the big fellow hoisting the camp dwarf out of it. Replacing the crown on the big man's head, I peered into the hole, which seemed to be full of rusty blades. I wasn't sure what the dwarf had expected to find down there although I surmised he was probably looking for gold. Dwarves go all funny when you mention gold.

Looking up, I noticed a trapdoor at the end of the corridor. Silencing the music I had been conjuring up, I summoned forth my mage hand and sent it floating down the corridor. Once at the trapdoor, I willed it to give the hatch a tug and try to open it. I didn't want to stand anywhere near the thing as it was opened, knowing full well the kind of nastiness that inevitably lives beneath trapdoors.

As the hand was floating away from me, th thought occured that opening trapdoors implies a generally downwards movement or, in our case, further in. Not wishing to be overly hasty in our choice of direction, I went back and gave the throne room a good once over, looking for secret doors.

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

Gabriel finds nothing but more ruined armaments in the brief time he has to search before Argumentus abruptly hauls him up.

Scary Bob's mage hand easily flips open the swinging doors of the hatch. As the doors fly open, they release a gust of cool, moist air and admit a flickering light from below.

Giving the throne room a last thorough once-over, Bob discovers no additional exits but does discover a small sack of marbles tucked in the end of a bedroll.

How ya doing, buddy?

The dwarf smiled his thanks to the big warrior but promptly wandered back--CAREFULLY--to the edge and let his beard dangle over the edge (complete with glow stick) to see if he'd missed anything. Who knows what had fallen down there and died. If there was nothing there he'd skirt his way around and take a gander down the trap door, poking as little of his head around the edge as he could.

I was speaking idiomatically.

Taking another look at the rubbish-strewn pit, Gabriel confirms — yup, nothing worthwhile.

Moving over to the open trapdoor, the paladin takes a peek down the hatch. A piton is driven into the floor just under the swinging doors. A chain, secured by this piton, dangles down a wide stone shaft for roughly 30 feet until terminating into a heap on a rose marble floor. Surrounding the piled-up length of chain is a rough circle of stone. The room below is well-lit.

What kind of toxic man-thing is happening now?

I picked up the bag of marbles and tied it to my belt. One never knows when these kinds of things might come in useful after all.

Rejoining the dwarf and the big guy, I saw that the dwarf was peering into the now open trapdoor. Unable to resist an opportuniy for japery, I used my Ghost Sound cantrip to shout "BOO" just behind his head.

FELIPE NO

Having re-adourned my cloak and feeling majestic once again, but slightly stupid from the thump I'd received on my head, I head down the hallway, seeing the elf giggle to himself like a schoolgirl while prancing in place on his tippy toes. While he was prancing, I did my best to resist the urge to shove him down the pit.

As the dwarf named Gabriel was currently distracted by his reaction to the elf's capers, I also peered down the door in the floor. The air was sweet and cool. And I saw marble floors. Wherever this door led to, it was obviously better decorated than this shitehole.

Down! Down! Down we go!

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

Fescue rappels down the chain, descending carefully into the circle of stone below. He sets down in a 25 foot square chamber with an iron door in the center of each of the four walls. Each door is framed by two flickering torches, accounting for the room's excellent lighting. The stone circle itself is the remains of some decent masonry: this ruin was part of a well or parapet once and seems out-of-place in the otherwise pristine chamber.

Moments after Fescue steps away from the chain to take a look around, a startled shout comes from above. The shout is followed almost immediately by the sight of Gabriel teetering at the edge of the shaft, then plummeting downward. His collision with the floor is marked once again by a notable lack of significant lethality.

4 damage



Jam it back in, in the dark.

As usual, Mosognir was lost in his own thoughts and oblivious to the sudden advancement to the new chamber. This changed abruptly with an uncharacteristic yelp from the Paladin. Wanting to seem like a trendsetter, the dwarf rushed down the hall and through the trap door as fast as he could, in the hopes that he could at least save face before the woman and the big human.

There's nowhere I can't reach.

Argumentus proceeds into the room below.

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

The dwarf muttered and stood up, rubbing his ribs and growling under his breath: "I am going to kill that useless cunt." Taking a deep breath he checked to make sure he was all in one piece, the brief moment of rest allowing him to catch his wind and begin to ignore the pain present in his limbs. Stepping to the side, he noted that new Dwarven chainmail was truly sent by Kord. He glanced up and called out in a hushed tone to the elf: "Oi, woman. Bring me my rope and throwing hammer when you come down."

It was the least that bitch could do, really. When you thought about it.

Gathering his things, he looked around and squinted slightly against the suddenly bright light. Relying on his Dungeoneering knowledge he glanced around, looking for anything that might standout. And all the while he let his senses take over, feeling for the presence of some god other than his own. Old buildings like this were rife with ancient temples and rituals.

Healing Surge (Thanks, Shin >8F )
Search room for... stuff.
Seek out ooky evil god feelings

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

Argumentus safely descends the chain, but Motsognir loses his grip near the bottom, falling 10 feet.

5 damage

Gabriel searches the room while soothing his dignity, but there isn't much to find. Aside from the stone circle the floor is utterly bare. An examination of the doors reveals little plaques on each, etched in a script none of you recognize.

The paladin can faintly detect the hateful influence of Bane in the vicinity, but this may only be due to the little idol the thief's been carrying around. Beyond that, he hears an intermittent skittering sound nearby, but can't quite determine the direction it comes from.

Gabriel's HP 29/6
Motsognir's HP 17/7

I was speaking idiomatically.

Argumentus moves toward the western wall and
"KNOCK KNOCK!"
Bangs his fist on the door.

What kind of toxic man-thing is happening now?

Motsognir takes a healing surge before Argumentus unleashes something ungainly

FELIPE NO

Knocking on the door produces no reaction.

Motsognir: 23/6

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

Not about to lose the chance to send the large man in another direction head-first, brains-last, I did my best to open the door he was knocking on.

If door open, I say "Puppies!"

Jam it back in, in the dark.

The unlocked door pops open effortlessly, revealing a closet bare of any goods save a large lever set into the floor. It's roughly waist-high (on a human) and currently orientated to the west.



There's nowhere I can't reach.

"Puppies!? Puppies here!?"

Argumentus operates the lever.

How ya doing, buddy?

Argumentus flips the lever to the eastward setting, and panels above the nearest torches creak open to spill a cache of oil upon them. The area in front of the doorway instantly blossoms into a wall of flame, singeing Fescue even as he stumbles back.

Even worse, no puppies!

Fescue: 11/6 (bloodied)



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

I laughed out loud as the dwarf toppled into the hole. It was only when I peered over the edge and realised how far the drop was that I felt a twinge of guilt. Still, it appeared as though he had landed on his head so no damage was done.

I retrieved his hammer and rope and tossed them into the hole. I then proceeded to climb down the chain and join the others. As I arrived I was greated by the sight of the big fellow activiating some kind of mechanism that splashed burning oil all over the rogue. It seemed as though the big chap had a sense of humour even more vicious than my own.

My eyes were drawn to the strange symbols on the wall. I could not read them but Master Lexicanus at the academy had taught me a handy ritual for just these occasions.

"Listen chaps", I said, "If you fellows could just hang ten, I'll get this lot read. Try to avoid pulling any more levers in the mean time yeah?".

I didn't hold out much hope of them understanding me so began the ritual anyway.

Throw hammer and rope down the hole, climb down the chain, enact ritual of Comprehend Language to read what it says on the wall.

I was speaking idiomatically.

Upon finishing the ritual, Bob is able to read the plaques on three of the doors; the western door's message is rendered inaccessible by a wall of fire.

The northern door reads: Beware, not all the doors are honest. Both the east and south doors will lead to doom, unless the west door does.

The eastern door reads: Beware, not all the doors are honest. The warnings of the south door are true, unless the northern door is safe.

The southern door reads: Beware, not all the doors are honest. Both the east and the west doors will lead to doom, unless the south does.

What kind of toxic man-thing is happening now?

"Right then gang, gather round and let's see if we can't work this out" I said after reading the plaques aloud. "It's a shame we can't read the other one because of the flames but with any luck they'll die down soon and we can get the full story.

Anyway, as I see it, our big friend over there has already shown us that the west door leads to doom, or at least burning oil. One would suggest therefore that the first statement tells us that east and south are safe and the third statement tells us that if the south door is safe, then the east door is trapped. Until we can get at the western plaque, I'd say the south door is looking favourite".

A row of blank faces presented itself to me. In my joy at thinking through the simple logic puzzle I had forgotten to whom I was speaking. I tried again.

"LOOK-EE HERE. SOME DOOR FLAMEY, BAD DOORS. SOME DOOR GOOD DOORS. THIS DOOR" I pointed to the southern door "PROBABLY GOOD DOOR. WE OPEN THIS ONE YES?".

Not wishng to be the person standing in front of the door when it was opened, I stood a safe distance back and opened the southern door with my mage hand.

FELIPE NO