Skeletons In the Sewers
Alexandira is many things.
It is a place of tall buildings and monuments, of stunning vistas and beautiful gardens.
But of course, you're not getting to see any of that. No, you're in the sewers. The wonderful, wonderful sewers of the city, lead through them by a worker in the employ of the city, who has sought out the help of, well, 'troubleshooters' for hire... the kind thatr the Guild of Explorers excels in offering.
You know, the kind of troubleshooting that involves finding trouble and ending it with a sword point, or a magic spell, or what have you.
"We'll just need to get past the gauntlet," says the worker, a slender half-elven man with a haggard face, "and then we'll get to the... well, if I don't miss my guess, I'd say it was some kind of tomb. There's a lot of stuff like that down here. Centuiries of compacted ruins and what not. I don't know. I try not to ask, but it's one of the deepest areas by far, so it must be old."
Tge sewers up /here/ don't look old, but they definitely are dirty.
And smelly.
And moss covered stone. And damp. And did we mention stinky?
What. The. Hell.
Somehow, Delilah has once again ended up on a mission that takes her into the sewers. Somehow, once again, she's in this horrible, ugly, ghastly, smelly, rank, vile, icky, disgusting, horrid, awful place, that messes up her clothes, and she's wearing *new clothes right now* to boot. Well, she's taken precautions this time, throwing on something old overtop and wearing a pair of boots she borroed from one of the city workers. Still, it's still gross. Completely nasty.
Also, Delilah isn't going first, not by a longshot. No, she'll let other people lead the way, and watch where they step to make sure she doesn't put her foot in anything regretable.
Seriously, these jobs are the worst. So gross.
"Interesting. This is where people's scat goes instead of in holes in the wild." Phelan seems oddly cheerful. New things! HE is in front, axe slung on a leather cord that dangles as he walks with it out in front of himself. "A tomb? That is...interesting." He'll glance once over his shoulders. Counting people.
Irithiel, though, is less cheerful than her companion. New things? Sure. Smelly things? Less sure. "No one calls it 'scat' here, Phelan," she tells him, stepping carefully as she trails along behind him. Indeed, she doesn't seem terribly pleased to be in a sewer of all places, but money is money, right? Right. "I'm taking a very long bath when we're done here."
Skribbles narrows her eyes as she stalks through the sewers, because where the poop water comes up to knees on most people...it comes a bit higher up on the gobbo. She is /really/ gonna have to talk to her agent about this. So she continues along, letting the others talk this out..afraid if she opens her mouth she's gonna get poop water in her mouth.
Thankfully, for the time being, you're not /wading/ in the water. Rather, it runs alongside you in channels. Yes, there is probably the obvious in there somewhere and you don't want ti splashed on you, but you're not wading in it.,
Yet.
The worker, himself, hardly seems to notice the odour.
"Yeah, it's unusual, but not something I'd say that's impossible. This city was built on top of the ruins of other, older cities whichwere also named Alexandria or some variation thereof. Then you have the crazies who figure this is a good place to hide and on and on. It's uglyier than an owlbear's anus and trust me you never wanna get up close and personal with one of those."
He lets out a breath. "Just be hopin' we don't run into any of the otyughs down here. They won't let you pass without giving you a thorough hugging and the smell takes DAYS to come out after that."
You 're lead odwn a tunnel, then down another tunnel, then down a sloping tunnel followed by an even steeper sloping tunnel, which leads to a tunnel that leads you to a set of stairs, which leads you down even further and it's pretty warm down here by now.
"We're almost there," he adds.
ALMOST?!
Delilah walks along all this way in silence; well, mostly silence, sometimes the occasional muttering about how in blazes she manages to get into these situations and howcome other people always get the good jobs and next time she's taking anything so long as there's a guarantee that there's no sewer traversing involved. The sorceress watches her footsteps very carefully, making sure she doesn't end up touching anything icky.
And then they go down the sloping tunnel and through the other tunnel and down the stairs and around another tunnel and there's more tunnels and the tunnels are never ending, and then the worker has the temerity so suggest that they're 'almost' there.
"What do you mean ALMOST?!" she explodes, throwing her hands up. "They aren't paying us by the hour! Where is this place?!"
"I believe, my new accompanying companion...that this place is further inside of these sewer tunnels." Phelan entirely misses why Delilah might be so exasperated. He will slow though, to ensure that she can keep up. "An owlbear anus is quite clean. I will have to assume that you have not had opportunity to examine one."
Well, it's close enough to Skribbles' mouth and that's enough. She also is wondering to herself when are they going to get there and perhaps she should ask for...what is that floating in the water! Is that...no...what!
Almost there? ALMOST THERE? Irithiel gives their guide a somewhat incredulous look as they just keep on going, down further and further. INTO the sewers. That they're going to have to walk back through when whatever this is has reached its conclusion. She turns an odd look towards Phelan as he mentions owlbear backsides and just stares at him for a minute. "Most people don't examine owlbear anuses," she tells him. "And SHE-" One hand rises, pointing at Delilah. "-has a VERY good point. Because we still have to walk back the way we came."
"Well, exactly. It ain't like there's a shortcut," replies the half-sil worker. "Right!" HE carries on forward and then stops at a darkened passageway, one that's revealed by crumbling rocks and the odour of decay and rot.
You can see just inside from here, a set of smoother stone walls beyond the narrow gap ahead of you.
"That's the way in. Best of luck to you. This is as far as I'm contractually obligated to go."
He points ahead.
"I'll wait here to guide you out. Don't worry. I'll be fine."
He sits donw against the wall and settles in to wait. "...damn, forgot my harmonica..."
"Yeah, well," Delilah grumbles. "It better not smell in there." The young sorceress eases her pistol in its holster, just in case; you never know what might be in there. It might be impolite. It might need a large caliber lesson in manners. You never know, afterall.
Delilah meanders up to the door, but she isn't about to be the ony to go through it first. No, no; that's for bigger, meatier types than her. She just peers through at the smoother stone, and hmmms softly, waiting for one of the big beefcakey boys to go through first.
"Wait a minute, what in the name of the Abyss were you doing with an owlbear that you were inspecting *that* part of it?"
Skribbles looks at Delilah and says, "Everyone has a kink, right? No matter how weird." She peers into the hole and looks around, "Smells like teen spirit."
"I was removing thorns. The owlbear was accosted by a dire hedgehog, Lady Magnolia Summerwind." Phelan speaks back to Irithiel. Absolutely not saying the correct name. Beefcake Boy Phelan peers down through the narrow portal and hmms to himself. "Well! Into the breach!" And jaunts.
Skribbles looks at the others and says, "Yep...what he said...into the smelly breach." She takes off her warhammer and follows Phelan into the stone butthole.
Irithiel squints at Phelan's name for her, looking confused. "My name is not that complicated," she tells him, shaking her head slowly. Well, he's going in, so she goes in after him. She blinks once and looks sideways towards Skribbles, giving HER the weird look now before simply shaking her head. "Sometimes it's better not to ask him those kinds of questions," she tells Delilah.
"Dead one. SOmeone had to get the legs. I lost the coin flip," a shrug follows. Ready or not, though, you're on your way into the gap and pushing down a narrow passage that really only lets you move single file at best, before it opens up into an ovular chamber. The smell is more intense here and things don't look promising.
For one, there's a big symbol of a grinning skull engraved in the center of the floor. That usually removes the possibility that this could be a good guy of some kind here.
Moving further into the chamber and shining your light around reveals empty alcoves and and crumbled, long destroyed statues and there, across the room, between two recesses, that ancient, most hated enemy of every adventurer ever...
...a /door/.
"Alright, my previous question notwithstanding, can we please stop talking about things that stink, things that might stink, things that make stink, or stink in general, along with anything else that relates or could relate to stink in any way." Delilah walks with the light rock, making sure to hold it up so everyone can get some good light.
"Pretty sure that's not a good sign," she adds, pointing out the engraved symbol. "I mean people usually have those when they want us all to go 'oOooh, you're a big villain', right?"
The sorceress is just drawing her gun with her freehand, as they come up upon a door. She gestures towards it, waving her pistol at it. "If it's full of treasure, I'm calling dibs," she states, flatly. "If it's full of spiders someone else can have it."
"I do not think dibs is applicable in an adventuring party. I am told there is a fair division of 'loot' to all members of the party who adventured on the adventure." Apparently Phelan has a respect for emblems, coat of arms, or pictures on the floor, because he walks in a slow circle around it before peering at the door. "Do you think they lock tombs?"
Skribbles points, eyes go wide, "I'll take that deal. So much I can do with a room full of spiders and a school full of kids." She grins evilly, "Soooo many possibilities..."
GAME: Phelan rolls perception: (17)+7: 24
GAME: Irithiel rolls perception: (18)+4: 22
GAME: Skribbles rolls perception: (13)+10: 23
GAME: Delilah rolls perception: (20)+0: 20
"You're probably right," Irithiel comments over towards Delilah at the mention of 'not a good sign.' She steps forward and squints slightly at the door before stepping back again and looking around. "I don't know anything about locks, and I'm NOT opening that door on my own. It might be locked. I have no idea."
The door! It is not trapped. A cursory examination by all of you reveals taht it does, in fact, seem to be untrapped. It might be a little... stuck, though? It's going to take a little doing to get it open. There are some inscriptions on it or more accurately WERE inscriptions on it that have since faded over the years.
Still, all that leaves is to open it and find out what's onm the other side and if you're right about this being some kind of tomb. It certainly looks line one, to a degree, with the skull mottiff on the floor and so on.
"Someone with a lot more muscle than me is going to need to do the opening," Delilah points out. "I couldn't win an armwrestling competition with a spider monkey to save my life, so..." She shrugs her shoulders emphatically. Still, she does stand where she's got a good shot and keeps her pistol close at hand, reay to aim and fire once the door is open, just in case there's anything unsatisfactory on the other side.
Which really just begs one question; since when does a sorceress carry a gun, anyway?
Phelan glances slowly about the room. Ladytype. Ladytype. Ladytype. "Oh. Thats me." Phelan slings his axe once more and steps to the door. Hands grip at the fastenings of the door and he settles his feet before PULLING HARD BECAUSE HE IS STRONG TYPE.
GAME: Phelan rolls strength: (2)+3: 5
TUG! Phelan's feet slide in his boots just a bit. "Its a bit stuck." Over his shoulder to the adventuring party. Then he sets once more and TUGGGSS! Nothing. He'll jam his shoulder hard into the door and just some dust filters from its edges. "Very stuck." Then he winds back and flings himself into the door. Only for the thing to detach completely and flop forward. His momentum carrying himself atop the door several feet into the room.
Skribbles walks over and holds up her hand, "I got this...I got this." She spits on her hands and looks at the door to give it a try.
Untrapped door that's jammed shut. That sounds like a job for... Phelan. Not Irithiel. She is content to stand back and let him handle that part. Or not. She lifts one hand to lightly rub at her forehead as he finally decides to simply bodyslam the door. "Well, door is open now, at least," she says, lifting one hand to gesture towards the opening.
Skribbles blinks a bit and says, "Okay...that....was hilarious." She snickers and walks towards the door, "Phelan....you still alive? You break anything?"
At least the door is out of the way, allowing the rest of you to go inside.
There's a stench here.
A very obvious stench. It's the stench of rot and decay, largely because there are more alcoves here, and in those alcoves are corpses, rotten and skeletal. It definitely is some kind of tomb.
Of course, none of that stops the corpses from rolling over in their alcoves and getting to their feet and standing to look accusingly at you with empty eye sockets. They start advancing on Phelan almost immediately.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- ATTENTION -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Whirlpoopin' has dropped a TIMESTOP!
Please +init, then cease all roleplay and actions immediately and wait for Whirlpoopin' to instruct you further. You may earn RPP by logging a scene for a GM.
For in-combat commands, type: +thelp.
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-
GAME: Whirlpoopin' advances the initiative order.
Round One - Init 26.
It is now Skellingtons 1-2's turn! Skellingtons 3-4 is next!
GAME: Whirlpoopin' rolls 1d20: (9): 9
GAME: Whirlpoopin' rolls 1d20: (3): 3
GAME: Whirlpoopin' rolls 1d20: (13): 13
GAME: Whirlpoopin' rolls 1d20: (10): 10
GAME: Whirlpoopin' rolls 1d20: (1): 1 (EPIC FAIL)
GAME: Whirlpoopin' rolls 1d20: (19): 19
GAME: Whirlpoopin' rolls 1d4+2: (1)+2: 3
GAME: Whirlpoopin' rolls 1d4+2: (4)+2: 6
GAME: Whirlpoopin' rolls 1d4+2: (4)+2: 6
GAME: Whirlpoopin' advances the initiative order.
Round One - Init 20.
It is now Skellingtons 3-4's turn! Skellingtons 5-6 is next!
GAME: Whirlpoopin' advances the initiative order.
Round One - Init 19.
It is now Skellingtons 5-6's turn! Delilah is next!
GAME: Whirlpoopin' advances the initiative order.
Round One - Init 16.
It is now Delilah's turn! Irithiel is next!
GAME: Delilah rolls ranged: (19)+5: 24
As one, the skeletons move up towards the prone form of Phelan.
They're definitely targetting him, but then, he was there first wasn't he? They're agile for dead men and they skitter towards him, bones clacking across the tone floor as they arrive in a half circle around him. There, they kick and rake at him with sharpened bone fingertips and bony feet. The result looks highly painful.
GAME: Whirlpoopin' advances the initiative order.
Round One - Init 14.
It is now Irithiel's turn! Phelan is next!
GAME: Phelan RAGES!, gaining +2 to melee attack/damage/Will saves and 4 temporary HP
GAME: Delilah rolls 1d8: (7): 7
GAME: Whirlpoopin' advances the initiative order.
Round One - Init 12.
It is now Phelan's turn! Skribbles is next!
GAME: Whirlpoopin' reverses the initiative order.
Round One - Init 14.
It is now Irithiel's turn! Phelan is next!
Delilah doesn't waste any time; the sorceress moves in a step and pulls back the hammer on her pistol. "Stay down, Phelan!" she shouts, before she takes aim on one of the skeletons and fires, issuing forth a loud report and royally blasting to the shambling bones apart. The skull goes flying one way, an arm goes another, and the ribs all just kind of pop off in different directions.
"Okay, now you can get up."
GAME: Irithiel rolls 1d4+1: (3)+1: 4
GAME: Whirlpoopin' advances the initiative order.
Round One - Init 12.
It is now Phelan's turn! Skribbles is next!
GAME: Whirlpoopin' advances the initiative order.
Round One - Init 5.
It is now Skribbles' turn! Skellingtons 1-2 is next!
GAME: Skribbles rolls 2d6: (9): 9
GAME: Whirlpoopin' rolls 1d20+3: (18)+3: 21
GAME: Whirlpoopin' rolls 1d20+3: (11)+3: 14
GAME: Whirlpoopin' rolls 1d20+3: (12)+3: 15
GAME: Whirlpoopin' rolls 1d20+4: (2)+4: 6
GAME: Whirlpoopin' rolls 1d20+3: (13)+3: 16
GAME: Whirlpoopin' advances the initiative order.
Round One - Init 4.
It is now Phelan's turn! Skellingtons 1-2 is next!
GAME: Whirlpoopin' rolls 1d20: (4): 4
GAME: Whirlpoopin' rolls 1d20: (13): 13
GAME: Whirlpoopin' rolls 1d20: (9): 9
Skribbles holds up her hammer and mutters quietly to herself. Her eyes turn red like the fires of a hot forge as the faint sounds of hammering can be heard in the distance. She turns towards the skeletons and says, "In the name of Reos, begone foul creatures!" Sparks from the Great Forge fly forward and land on the skeletons, turning two of them into dust.
GAME: Phelan rolls attack: (1)+0: 1 (EPIC FAIL)
GAME: Whirlpoopin' rolls melee: (2)+-2: 0
GAME: Phelan rolls melee: (12)+7: 19
GAME: NEW ROUND!
Whirlpoopin' advances the initiative order.
Round Two - Init 26.
It is now Skellingtons 1-2's turn! Skellingtons 3-4 is next!
GAME: Whirlpoopin' advances the initiative order.
Round Two - Init 20.
It is now Skellingtons 3-4's turn! Skellingtons 5-6 is next!
GAME: Whirlpoopin' advances the initiative order.
Round Two - Init 19.
It is now Skellingtons 5-6's turn! Delilah is next!
GAME: Whirlpoopin' rolls 1d20: (14): 14
GAME: Whirlpoopin' rolls 1d20: (6): 6
GAME: Whirlpoopin' rolls 1d20: (16): 16
GAME: Whirlpoopin' rolls 1d4+2: (1)+2: 3
Phelan is smart enough to wait for most of the people to try and whittle down this collection of skeletons. When he finally stands, its quick enough that he needs only bash one attack aside. That is the focus for him, THAT skeleton who nearly got close enough to hit. But alas, his swung axe goes wide.
meanwhile, the skeletons seem laser focused on the person /in/ the room, ionterestingly enough. Despite DElilah and Skribbles efforts from the doorway, to say nothing of Irhtiel, they aren't even looking at them.
Still, Phelan is caught with another clawed hand strike to the side of his head, leaving a bleeding gash there.
GAME: Whirlpoopin' advances the initiative order.
Round Two - Init 16.
It is now Delilah's turn! Irithiel is next!
GAME: Delilah rolls 2d4+2: (5)+2: 7
GAME: Whirlpoopin' advances the initiative order.
Round Two - Init 14.
It is now Irithiel's turn! Skribbles is next!
With the skeletons laser-focused on the one person in the room, that means only one thing: Delilah is not going into the room. The sorceress stays outside, looking in at all the various targets. And Phelan, yes; Phelan also. She waves her gun in the air quickly until it stops smoking, then tucks it away in her holster, to free up her hand. Her eyes and brands glow a bright blue, as she traces a runic symbol in the air, leaving glowing lines behind her fingertips; as she finishes it coalesces into twin bolds of energy that sizzle into one of the skeletons, blowing off both its arms and leaving it shattered on the floor.
GAME: Whirlpoopin' rolls 1d4+1: (3)+1: 4
GAME: Whirlpoopin' advances the initiative order.
Round Two - Init 5.
It is now Skribbles' turn! Phelan is next!
GAME: Skribbles casts Cure Light Wounds. Caster Level: 4 DC: 15
GAME: Skribbles rolls 1d8+4: (3)+4: 7
GAME: Whirlpoopin' advances the initiative order.
Round Two - Init 4.
It is now Phelan's turn! Skellingtons 1-2 is next!
GAME: Phelan rolls melee: (19)+7: 26
GAME: Phelan rolls melee: (8)+7: 15
Skribbles winces as she spies Phelan getting the smackdown from the Skellingtons. She holds up her hand and shouts, "In Reos' name, I give you the blessings of the healing fire!" She points towards Phelan, letting her spell flow into him.
GAME: Phelan rolls damage: aliased to +3: (5)++3: 8
GAME: Phelan rolls 2d6+10: (10)+10: 20
That is new! Skribbles has been the first to truly lay divine love and presence upon Phelan and it shows! He is distracted momentarily by the sensation of his skin closing up and wounds healing. Then he turns his furious...fury onto a skeleton and separates its bones from other bones, starting at a clavicle all the way through to shatter a femur. Dead Skeleton is even deader now.
Eee! Skeletons! Irithiel blinks a few times and does NOT step into the room. Because that's a bad idea. So she hangs out near the doorway, uttering a few arcane words and making quick gestures with her fingers to hurl a small bolt at the undead creatures. Phelan? He seems fine. He's not dead. He's just mad again. She'll fix his stuff later.
...the area descends into silence, then, beyond the noise you yourselves are making. Well, that and bits of bones all over the place. You've gone and made a mess of it all again.
In any event, there's a definite feeling of 'wrongness' here, one that seems to be intensifying the whole time you're standing there.
Skribbles looks at the others and says, "There's a voice in my head that says something is wrong here."
End of Log----------------------------------