Diadochi Bellows "Why won't you face me? I will bring you your death, the least you can do is face me!" and he swings his hammer again Attack: 5 Damage: Unable to parse dice roll. if hits he's going to use goading attack again add 3 . If possible he'll use protection fighter on the first attack he can.
Yaalin mutters curses under her breath at her lack of success and struggles up as the beasts claws scrap at her shell wincing a bit. She go from her knees to standing using her momentum to uppercut the creature's head. "Get off me! "
The manticore attempts to slash and crush Yaalin, but her shell and shield prevent most of the attacks from getting through. One of the attacks getting on her on the arm (9). Yaalin responds by crashing her claws at the creature’s humanism voice. The creature recoils, it’s head lifting into the air from the smash in the face. Sim, Lafetha, and Diadochi make their attacks, but miss. While the manticore is reeling from the blow, Abigail notices the creature’s exposed throat. She lunges, digging her blade into the creatures large jugular. The blood spraying as she rakes the blade down, opening it up.
The creature, and blood, spill on to Yaalin. Knocking her off of her knees, falling against her with a slump. It tries to say something. Sputtering out words in some kind of language, before expiring on top of Yaalin. (INT check DC 15 to figure out the language)
From Yaalin’s position under the creature, she notices the shaft of the spear stuck in the creature’s side. Some of the same primordial written on it as Yeth’s shield had.
The creatures tack and harnesses are quite impressively made, despite from rugged materials of the mountain. But they would be very encumbersome to haul off with you.
In the room, there’s also the tunnel leading further down...
Sim, the language fails your grasp over the sounds of it choking and dying. But the spear is hardy. Cutting through the air with ease. The inscription is the same as the shield; written in Druidic. Primordial. And what you would guess to be Hn’ti.
If there’s anything else to this spear, it’ll take a short rest to study it further. (But you know it’s a +1 Spear)
Sim sits down his back against the wall with the spear across his knees. He intends to spend a short amount of time identifying any magical properties of the spear and then rest for the rest of the long rest. If that turns out to be to much he will hand it to diadochi to identify further.
Yaalin, grumbles at more delay but doesn't contest the groups' decision. She will investigate the room while the others are busy 3 and then spend any remaining time meditating in contemplation on where she could find more about the creatures last words. 11 (keeping in mind my Sage/researcher trait that could tell me where I could find more info later if I remember and feel it is relevant)
(Good point on Yaalin’s background. I’d say advantage, so I’m adding +5 to that.)
Yaalin, you hear the words. It’s halfling. Or at least garbled halfling.
(Random monster roll w/Disadvantage: 3)
As you take your rest, through the night you hear sounds. Muffled noises from goblins, to sobs, to what could be combat. But while on watch, you do not see anything come at you from any of the three points: back where you came, from above, or from further in.
After their rest, the group (eventually - do your usual rolls / spells / etc) sets out. Heading down the lone tunnel. The steps seem to still be polished marble. The walls some kind of twisted rock face. After a few minutes, the stairs seem to merge with rocks. The group begin to navigate the tight spaces and small holes that were since carved by whatever happened to this place.
Emerging from the other side, the room has a soft glow about it. A sparse, glowing yellow-green, substance lingers in the air. Moving around and through you; a intangible cloud of pollin like particles that light up the way. Streaks of black and silver sometimes arc back and forth between some of them, seemingly at random.
You emerge from the rocks in a room filled with the same pollin. The light casting shadows about the dim light in all directions. A overlook and rope ladder can be seen towards the exit of this section of cave. The walls itself are much more violent in their jagged form (towards 6). A few faces seemingly stuck just behind the rock’s surface.
Away in a corner is a lone figure. Robes, since burned and singed cling to the thin frame. A set of horns on it’s head. Dozens of quill like spines are across his chest.
(Diadochi, it would be Medicine / Investigate for the body - so altering your roll from 18 perception to 16 medicine)
you walk over to the body. Much like the other one you examined yesterday, there’s some marks of being set on fire. With this one’s body being in such better shape, you notice that the horns and face are actually a mask. The creature underneath is a hobgoblin. Quite dead, though. The body cold. You notice the quills You move over, careful not to stab yourself on one of them as you delicately remove it. They are the same kind of quills that the Rune Covered Hn’ti fired at you. You aren’t positive they’re the cause of death
You look around. Eventually hearing some figures talking. Heading over to the rope ladder, you hear a few voices speaking in goblin. Being fairly quiet. One does sound like the screechy goblin voice you met back on the ice patch. The other is a much deeper voice. Still, you’re not close enough to the exit to see exactly who’s speaking (stealth roll for that). From what you gather from the conversation, they’re finalizing... something. And it won’t be too long until it happens now. But to be careful for the other intruders. It appears that the hn’ti are attacking the caves as well.
Yaalin watches the others move about the room searching and feeling their way about. Seeing nothing beyond the body and the light pollen (Nature 14 ) that interests her too much She begins to cast a ritual of Detect Magic once completed she opens her eyes slowly expecting to be blinded again before turning her now glowing aquamarine eyes to the mask on the corpse.
The floating particles that move about, you go and think for a moment. Waiving a clawed hang through them, but they simply pass through you without harm. With no smell, or touch, or ability to taste, you firmly do not believe they are a part of nature that you’re aware of. When your eyes open and you see the magic in the room, the floating particles in the air are pulsing with magic. The colors shift and move, but you’re able to pick up conjuration and necromancy. The streaks of silver and black continuing to arc around every few moments. Sometimes a few more of the little motes in the air seem to pulse together. Whatever it is in the air, it’s gaining strength. Looking over to the dead hobgoblin, you do not detect any magic on or from the corpse.