[DnD] Welcome to the Dungeon of Doom!

I heard it said that where one door closes, another opens, or something like that anyway. I had never been all that good with doors to be honest. No sooner had we lost the rogue than we had stumbled across another wayward soul.

This one appeared to be a small child. Quite what a child was doing in this gods forsaken place I was not sure but here one was. It started speaking but to my dismay it seemed to speak the same strange language as the horde and I could not understand a word it was saying. The high pitched voice suggested a female and the cleverer of my dwarven companions seemed instantly enamoured of her, moving to protect her as the ugly dwarf and the human engaged in their favourite passtime of smashing doors apart.

I was troubled by the sign hanging off the door but I knew there was no stopping these two when they had an idea so I let them get on with it. Besides, I was hoping to test the extent of my new-found powers and sinister looking doors generally hid assailants of some sort in this place. In fact most of the harmless looking doors had lead to violence so far.

"Well we can't very well leave a child here and you never know when we might need someone to go crawling down a really small hole for us. We'll bring the kid along with us but let's try not to get her killed too quickly eh? I've still not managed to work out how I ressurected you lot and until I do, this is something of a dungeon quest of attrition".

I moved to stand behind the ugly dwarf, patting him on the head in a reassuring fashion as we waited to see what the big guy would fins behind the door.

Most amazing jew boots

The dwarf grimaced as the mage-woman patted Murray. For a brief moment he considered putting his new axe into the bitch's belly, but... she was useful. A git, sure. But a useful git.

"Fine," he began. Ignoring the revived zombie bit, as usual. "She can come with us. But if she winds up being as useless as the thief, I vote we feed her to the lizard thing the kobolds are going to ambush us with."

He watched Argumentus batter the door with actual interest. It was like the man was doing performance art with violence. Very meta.

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

Gabriel rifles through the debris in the room's corner, steadfastly ignoring the awkward dialogue. The chunks of stone appear to be the broken fragments of a column, tangled up in a mass of metal hinges, joints and blades. Probably quite the dangerous contraption, before something smashed it to bits.

Talks break down between Lilliput and Brobdingnag, and Argumentus resorts to doing what he does best; destroying everything in his way. The rotting doors splinter easily under his charge, and he stumbles into a room scattered with the broken remains of many beds. In the south of the room, short stairs lead down a few feet toward another door. The chamber narrows to the east, then branches to the south and out of sight.

M

I was speaking idiomatically.

Seeing the door splinter, the dwarf wanders into the room carefully, pausing to nudge Argumentus and comment: "Oi. Careful mate. Looks like the remnants of a nasty trap back there. This whole place is probably littered with nasty tricks."

Noting the closed door, he cautiously moves towards the easternmost side of the room, leaning against the wall and glancing around the corner to get a view of what lies beyond, while hopefully keeping as much of his frame out of the direct line of the no doubt incoming giant boulder.

What kind of toxic man-thing is happening now?

"CHILD? I've been deliverin' children since you were kneehigh to a grasshopper, maybe."

I push the uppity woman away and follow behind the golem. He may be rude, and unable to count, but at least he knows his job. I'll be careful to wake up early while around these folks, don't want to be woken up like that again.

FELIPE NO

Good, thought Motsognir, now that there's some femine competition, maybe the tall one will stop acting so damn huffy.

He followed the others into the next room.

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

The room had the appearance of some kind of dormitory. Reasoning that nobody would be so stupid as to put traps in a room they were sleeping in, I moved around the room freely, examining the walls for the kind of loose brick cubby holes one was likely to find in any communal sleeping area.

Once that was complete, I examined the southern door from the top of the stairs, my keen elf ears alert for any sounds from beyond. With so many possible routes available to us I was becoming somewhat twitchy, never wanting to miss out on an adventure through going down the wrong tunnel.

How ya doing, buddy?

Other than the tattered bunks, there's nothing in the room but dust and silence. Bob peers down the steps at the south doors. Etched into them are the words "Officer's Quarters". There's no sound beyond the doors; if anything is within, it's standing very, very still.

Gabriel rounds the corner on the east end of the room, finding another 40' of empty space with another set of decaying doors at the end. Suddenly the western doors slam shut. Well, they try to. The tattered remnants of wood hanging from the hinges on the western doors slam shut, rather pathetically. The tinny sound of a rusted bell begins to ring, and a great many shuffling footsteps begin to issue from behind the southeast doors. Behind the doors to the Officer's Quarters, the sound of heavy boots move slowly toward the steps.
A raspy voice shouts: "The barracks are under attack! Full alert!"

That can't be good.

Initiative Sequence: Gabriel, Bob, shuffling, boots, Motsognir, Argumentus, Brigid

Reminder: Bob is the only current source of light in the otherwise-dark room.

M

There's nowhere I can't reach.

I could count on one hand the number of times in my life that the sound of marching jack-boots had been a good thing and each of those occasions had been at a Laibach concert. The way those crazy Easterners managed to train a troll to march in step like that was a testament to their devotion to true art, as much as to the application of several litres of sedative and some frightfully powerful binding spells. Their track for track cover album of Let it bleed by the Beetles, a band comprised entirely of giant cockroaches, was a modern masterpiece.

Knowing that there were those in the party far better suited to close combat than I and not wishing to get in their way, I backed away from the door, positioning myself woth a clear line of sight at whatever might be about to come through it.

Dropping my staff at my feet and unslinging my bow, I notched and drew an arrow, ready to send it flying into the face of whatever was about to join us. The chances are that one of my spells would be more effective but the rules of elvish adventuring clearly state that when faced with an unknown assailant behind a closed door, one must greet their arrival with a well-placed arrow, thereby gaining first blood bragging rights, should some lesser creature manage to technically score more kills than you during the encounter. I hated archery and my bow was little more than an ornamental childs toy but there are some traditions one just can't go against.

I steeled myself, bow drawn, ready to drop the piece of crap and get spell casting as soon as my arrow had been fired.

Move 7 squares north (Mainly to emphasise how much quicker Bob can run than everyone else), drop staff, draw bow, aim at door and shoot whatever comes through it

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

The dwarf wasted no time in reaching into his pack, pulling his second light rod, striking it to life and tying it into his beard. Clutching his axe tightly in his hands, he slid behind the wall and began to await the first poor bastard to swing his head around the corner.

LET THERE BE LIGHT... AND IT WILL BE GOOD.
Slide one tile west to be behind wall.
Get ready to cut me some niggas.

How ya doing, buddy?

Gabriel responds to the threat of attack by hiding and turning on the lights. Bob, for his part, runs away as far as possible and points loaded weapons at anything that moves.

The shuffling from the southeast grows ever louder, and the door noisily gives way in a chorus of groans. From his new vantage point, Gabriel can't make out what might be coming.

One of the downstairs doors swings out. A leathery corpse stands there, clad in rusting mail and crackling with horrid energies. An arrow abruptly sprouts from the wight's forehead, and it grins a hideous grin.

9 damage

"Artillery" it hisses. "Very well. We can play it that way." Gnarled fingers point to Argumentus, and the strong man doubles over in pain.

6 damage; Argumentus is immobilized (save ends). 25/12

Sequence: Motsognir, Argumentus, Brigid, Gabriel, Bob, ???, Wight

M

I was speaking idiomatically.

Unable to move his legs, Argumentus's blood boils. The dullard flexes his arms in preparation for whatever may come from behind the undead.

Prepare Reaping Strike for any hostile that comes within range

How ya doing, buddy?

Motsognir runs over to stand beside Gabe, ready to take on whatever's bubbling up from the south east.

FELIPE NO

Moves two squares east, once north
Perform Righteous Brand on the first enemy that comes in range

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

Everybody prepares a bunch of melee attacks against enemies over 30 feet away. Yup.

Argumentus saves against Immobility. Gabriel up, etc

M

Jam it back in, in the dark.

The dwarf turned the corner, moving three steps south and waiting for the shuffling monstrosities to show themselves. Murray's teeth clapped with joy at the concept of murderdeathkill. Or they would be. If he had a brain. Poor Murray.

Head towards south east, keeping to the wall. Hoping to get a glimpse of what is coming to eat him.

There's nowhere I can't reach.

Gabriel inches around the corner, curious about the precise nature of The Terror That Shambles Aimlessly. Teeming around the far doorway are 4, 5, 6... a whole lot of zombies, all clad in tattered and filthy blue tabards.

Bob!

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

My surprise arrow had done a surprising amount of damage to the undead monstrosity in the doorway, perhaps more than I might have achieved with a spell. Having lugged all these arrows around with me so far it seemed a shame not to use them so I drew another and in one smooth motion, sent it whistling towards the unholy terror.

Shoot another arrow at the wight

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

Bob fires off another shot, but the wight's ready for it this time and smacks the missile aside. The zombie horde painstakingly shambles its way up the hall. At this rate, they may reach Gabriel in as little as a month. Another wight appears at the back of their ranks, urging them forward.

The wight at the bottom of the stairs tramps his way up, snapping off the arrow in his forehead. He mutters inaudibly and a ripple of energy tears through the room, picking up Argumentus and Brigid and hurling them into the far wall.

Well, Argumentus is actually hurled directly into Bob but we'll overlook that.

Critical hit!
6 damage to Argumentus; 19/12
6 damage to Brigid; 18/8

Motsognir, Argumentus, Brigid, Gabriel, Bob, Zombies, Wights

I was speaking idiomatically.

The wight brushed my arrow out of the air which was of course exactly what I'd been planning. The arrow ricocheted off the wall and flew back towards the wight.

Elven accuracy, reroll arrow attack

What kind of toxic man-thing is happening now?

...and the wight smacks it down with his other hand.

oooh, bad luck.

FELIPE NO

Motsognir knew better than to charge into a horde of zombies. He made a wild run towards the lone wight to the southwest, striking just as he ran out of breath.

move to wight
Viper's Strike

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

Having rescinded on his earlier decision to "take on whatever", Motsognir zips away from Gabriel's endangered position at top speed. Skidding to a halt just in front of the menacing wight, he swings a mighty swing. One of those great history-making swings that people will surely talk about for many years to come.

4 damage.

Argumentus, Brigid, Gabriel, Bob, Zombies, Wights, Motsognir

Jam it back in, in the dark.

Argumentus moves across the room to confront the undead controller.

move one square northeast of Wight
Reaping strike

Most amazing jew boots

Argumentus' hammer smashes into the wight's right shoulder, and the undead monstrosity is disarmed. That is, its arm flies off and tumbles down the stairs.

"Might want to hurry up with the troops, Simons. Things are getting a little out of hand over here."

The other wight shouts something incoherent from down the hall.

"I warned you about that! Let's make phantoms, I said. But no, you wanted to do everything the cheap way. As usual."

12 damage

Brigid, Gabriel, Bob, Zombies, Wights, Motsognir, Argumentus

How ya doing, buddy?