Zerxius leans back again sipping his first drink "Giant is all a matter of perspective i think. But i will go down especially if there is knowledge to be gained"
"Well, they don't call me Hoghead Giantslayer for nothin'! I once knew a gnome tailor that is said to kill seven with one blow. If a little one like that can do it, just imagine what I could do. If I see any giants, I'll give em the ol what for. You can take that to the bank, Jane."
Drax peers over the thick and sturdy stone lip of the portal. The ring of stone had once served as the base for a soaring tower and was two to three feet thick all around the width of the gaping hole in the center of the taproom. As he gazed down into the darkness, reflections from the lights in the tavern glanced off the stonework for about ten feet down, only to be swallowed by the utter blackness below.
Sound.
Sound was another thing entirely. Whether because of the design of the well, a quirk of the stone, or a magical enhancement meant to aid the foolhardy, it seems that sound travels exceedingly well up the shaft. In fact, just as Drax turned his full attention to the well, a voice could be heard calling up from below:
'THE CAGE! SEND THE CAGE! Please, please hurry! They're coming from...ergh, aarghh.'
The cries are cut short, replaced by an inhuman sound of scrabbling legs and guttural growls.
The other patrons of the tavern turned towards the well as the cries broke out but quickly lost interest when the voices from below died away.
Oh, well, should we get rooms first? I packed the entire house, it feels like. It might be best if I could leave some of this behind before we head down. Jane starts looking around for the tavern owner, probably in the same spot he stood in before. If you all want, I could take your money over and just bring back the keys. I'm an honest person, I swear it by Chauntea. She kisses her fingertips, touches the broach on her scarf, and raises her hand as if she was swearing an oath in court.
The late arrival leans back at Hoghead's question. "My story? Well, nothing too interesting. Looking for a new line of work. Thought I might find some inspiration down there. You can call me Rantel, or Rant if that's hard to remember." The story might have continued, but at the interruption, Rantel stands quickly, gazing down into the pit, large eyes peering down. The hood comes off and a green tortle head can be seen, thick and strong at the base of the neck, with little chromatic lines beginning toward the torso.
Perception: 8 (looking and listening for anything that can be gleaned from the distance, in the dark, and through the din)
Looking around to see if anyone seems to be moving toward the cage, or the controls for the cage...
"I travel light as a rule. But a room wouldnt be a bad idea for a base to store what we find. I shall contribute towards one" as Zerxius watches the tortle with slightly concealed fascination
As the party debates whether they should get rooms and tries to make sense of the shell-backed newcomer, the gnome near the door hops off his stool and walks briskly towards the lip of the well. As he does he fiddles with the oversized gauntlet on his right-hand mumbling under his breath. He walks right next to your table and climbs gingerly up onto the ledge of the well, peering over into the darkness as he does. Jane and Rant both notice a small glimmering field appear in front of the old gnome's eyes, almost like a visor made of gemstone had apparated there. He continues to mumble and fiddle with his gauntlet for a bit before looking up and calling out to the full room, his tone stilted and formal, clearly reciting something oft-repeated from memory:
'Youse knows the tradition, salvage goes to any who claims it, so long as you don't harm the fallen and ya use their coin to send their bodies back up to the surface. No coin, no carriage. Do any of you dispute my claim to the salvage below? Are any of yous brave enough to join me in securing it'
He hardly pauses with his last two questions, clearly used to silence as a response.
OOC: This is moving quick in-game time - less than a minute since you heard the screams. The gnome doesn't really seem to be waiting on an answer, but it's clear that you can challenge his right or join him and split the loot at the bottom of the well - if you survive whatever is down there. How would you like to proceed?
Oh, oh we're going. Ok, just let me... Ok I'm ready. Jane hurriedly detaches a very heavy pot and a shovel from the outside of her bag and leaves them on the table. She calls out to no one in particular I'll be back for those and she moves to catch up with the others.
The halfling turns her tankard up and finishes the rest of her drink in a few gulps. Setting it down with a loud thunk, she grins at everyone and says,”No better time than the present to find treasure!” She hops off her chair and starts toward the side of the well.
Rantel nods. "Might as well. Also I have heard it it bad luck to steal the cookingware of someone who is on a salvage run." He looks meaningfully around at people surrounding the briefly-occupied table (he didn't even get to order a drink!), then moves to the gnome. "I don't dispute your claim, but perhaps you could use some company."
The gnome glances over as your motley crew of adventurers stand to join him 'Hmmfph. You all are claiming share of the salvage below? You know the code? The tradition?'
He looks across your faces - and seeing blank stares in return he sighs deeply 'The code. The first crew down has a full share of whatever is left down there. Anything on or belonging to anyone dead is fair game. If they aren't dead and have a gold, ya have to put them in the cage and bring 'em back up. Clear?'
He looks at each of you and waits for a nod or an affirmative response. 'Good, last thing - yer on yer own down there. A ride up costs a gold, and the only ones coming after you are coming to pick yer bodies clean. Don't count on me or anyone else bailing you out.'
Seeing no objections he sighs again 'Alright, you dumb bastards, if you're intent on going down, I suppose we should use the cage, like civilized people. Gramursh! The Cage if you please!' The last bit is directed towards the towering female goliath on the far side of the room. She nods and finishes the last gulp of ale out of the horn, before hooking it to a loop on her belt. Taking a step forward she reaches out with massive hands and performs a series of incredibly intricate hand movements - surprisingly delicate for one so large. As she does, a ghostly hand extends from her, gliding out and grabbing the Cage as it dangles over the center of the Well. The hand pulls the Cage towards the edge, right up against the side of the stone where your party has been sitting.
Stepping quickly into the cage the gnome looks back at each of you, impatiently waiting for you to join him in the small, creaky cage hanging over the edge of the abyss.
OOC: Last chance to change your mind - otherwise give me initiative rolls.
Zerxius leans back again sipping his first drink "Giant is all a matter of perspective i think. But i will go down especially if there is knowledge to be gained"
Laissez les bons temps rouler
"Well, they don't call me Hoghead Giantslayer for nothin'! I once knew a gnome tailor that is said to kill seven with one blow. If a little one like that can do it, just imagine what I could do. If I see any giants, I'll give em the ol what for. You can take that to the bank, Jane."
Drax peers over the thick and sturdy stone lip of the portal. The ring of stone had once served as the base for a soaring tower and was two to three feet thick all around the width of the gaping hole in the center of the taproom. As he gazed down into the darkness, reflections from the lights in the tavern glanced off the stonework for about ten feet down, only to be swallowed by the utter blackness below.
Sound.
Sound was another thing entirely. Whether because of the design of the well, a quirk of the stone, or a magical enhancement meant to aid the foolhardy, it seems that sound travels exceedingly well up the shaft. In fact, just as Drax turned his full attention to the well, a voice could be heard calling up from below:
'THE CAGE! SEND THE CAGE! Please, please hurry! They're coming from...ergh, aarghh.'
The cries are cut short, replaced by an inhuman sound of scrabbling legs and guttural growls.
The other patrons of the tavern turned towards the well as the cries broke out but quickly lost interest when the voices from below died away.
"Sounds like it might be our cue"
Laissez les bons temps rouler
Oh, well, should we get rooms first? I packed the entire house, it feels like. It might be best if I could leave some of this behind before we head down. Jane starts looking around for the tavern owner, probably in the same spot he stood in before. If you all want, I could take your money over and just bring back the keys. I'm an honest person, I swear it by Chauntea. She kisses her fingertips, touches the broach on her scarf, and raises her hand as if she was swearing an oath in court.
The late arrival leans back at Hoghead's question. "My story? Well, nothing too interesting. Looking for a new line of work. Thought I might find some inspiration down there. You can call me Rantel, or Rant if that's hard to remember." The story might have continued, but at the interruption, Rantel stands quickly, gazing down into the pit, large eyes peering down. The hood comes off and a green tortle head can be seen, thick and strong at the base of the neck, with little chromatic lines beginning toward the torso.
Perception: 8 (looking and listening for anything that can be gleaned from the distance, in the dark, and through the din)
Looking around to see if anyone seems to be moving toward the cage, or the controls for the cage...
"I travel light as a rule. But a room wouldnt be a bad idea for a base to store what we find. I shall contribute towards one" as Zerxius watches the tortle with slightly concealed fascination
Laissez les bons temps rouler
As the party debates whether they should get rooms and tries to make sense of the shell-backed newcomer, the gnome near the door hops off his stool and walks briskly towards the lip of the well. As he does he fiddles with the oversized gauntlet on his right-hand mumbling under his breath. He walks right next to your table and climbs gingerly up onto the ledge of the well, peering over into the darkness as he does. Jane and Rant both notice a small glimmering field appear in front of the old gnome's eyes, almost like a visor made of gemstone had apparated there. He continues to mumble and fiddle with his gauntlet for a bit before looking up and calling out to the full room, his tone stilted and formal, clearly reciting something oft-repeated from memory:
'Youse knows the tradition, salvage goes to any who claims it, so long as you don't harm the fallen and ya use their coin to send their bodies back up to the surface. No coin, no carriage. Do any of you dispute my claim to the salvage below? Are any of yous brave enough to join me in securing it'
He hardly pauses with his last two questions, clearly used to silence as a response.
OOC: This is moving quick in-game time - less than a minute since you heard the screams. The gnome doesn't really seem to be waiting on an answer, but it's clear that you can challenge his right or join him and split the loot at the bottom of the well - if you survive whatever is down there. How would you like to proceed?
'
Zerxius looks around the table....." Now or wait?"
Laissez les bons temps rouler
Drax is already up and moving towards the lift. “No time like the present.”
Oh, oh we're going. Ok, just let me... Ok I'm ready. Jane hurriedly detaches a very heavy pot and a shovel from the outside of her bag and leaves them on the table. She calls out to no one in particular I'll be back for those and she moves to catch up with the others.
The halfling turns her tankard up and finishes the rest of her drink in a few gulps. Setting it down with a loud thunk, she grins at everyone and says,”No better time than the present to find treasure!”
She hops off her chair and starts toward the side of the well.
Zerxius stands picking up the quarterstaff that was behind him and follows
Laissez les bons temps rouler
(OOC, the lure of daring adventure is what brought Drax here so he’s seizing the opportunity for it.)
Rantel nods. "Might as well. Also I have heard it it bad luck to steal the cookingware of someone who is on a salvage run." He looks meaningfully around at people surrounding the briefly-occupied table (he didn't even get to order a drink!), then moves to the gnome. "I don't dispute your claim, but perhaps you could use some company."
The gnome glances over as your motley crew of adventurers stand to join him 'Hmmfph. You all are claiming share of the salvage below? You know the code? The tradition?'
He looks across your faces - and seeing blank stares in return he sighs deeply 'The code. The first crew down has a full share of whatever is left down there. Anything on or belonging to anyone dead is fair game. If they aren't dead and have a gold, ya have to put them in the cage and bring 'em back up. Clear?'
He looks at each of you and waits for a nod or an affirmative response. 'Good, last thing - yer on yer own down there. A ride up costs a gold, and the only ones coming after you are coming to pick yer bodies clean. Don't count on me or anyone else bailing you out.'
Seeing no objections he sighs again 'Alright, you dumb bastards, if you're intent on going down, I suppose we should use the cage, like civilized people. Gramursh! The Cage if you please!' The last bit is directed towards the towering female goliath on the far side of the room. She nods and finishes the last gulp of ale out of the horn, before hooking it to a loop on her belt. Taking a step forward she reaches out with massive hands and performs a series of incredibly intricate hand movements - surprisingly delicate for one so large. As she does, a ghostly hand extends from her, gliding out and grabbing the Cage as it dangles over the center of the Well. The hand pulls the Cage towards the edge, right up against the side of the stone where your party has been sitting.
Stepping quickly into the cage the gnome looks back at each of you, impatiently waiting for you to join him in the small, creaky cage hanging over the edge of the abyss.
OOC: Last chance to change your mind - otherwise give me initiative rolls.
Initiative: 7
Zerxius enters
Initiative:12
Laissez les bons temps rouler
Jane climbs in, briefly gripping the side before taking a fairly wide stance with bent knees, ready to be jolted about.
Initiative: 2
Rantel initiative: 11