You awake in an octagonal room. The floor, ceiling, and walls are made of marble. There is an octagonal obsidian altar in the center of the room. There is a door, made of rich, dark mahogany and polished brass, in precisely the middle of each wall.
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"Any society that would give up a little liberty to gain a little security will deserve neither and lose both" -- allegedly Benjamin Franklin
Badger wakes in a hung over slump, half-wrapped in a massive fur cloak, "Am I still drunk or is the room the same all around?"
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Characters:
Grishkar Darkmoor, Necromancer of Nerull the Despiser Kelvin Rabbitfoot, Diviner, con artist, always hunting for a good sale Bründir Halfshield, Valor Bard, three-time Sheercleft Drinking Competition Champion, Hometown hero
"Well it doesn't seems like Bahamut reign so, suppose not to be dead yet...uh...eh....yahhh, it really is, little newfriend....I am Bran Stampede...I would say its a pleasure but I am not so sure of where we are so......"
The altar is a single block of obsidian, with a few tiny chips. It has been washed recently.
The brass hinges and doorknobs were polished and--in the case of the hinges--oiled recently. The mahogany has been kept in very good condition as well.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Badger gets up, mumbling half-curses. Walking to each of the doors, he casually knocks on some, runs a hand over others, and just stares in some cases. After the doors, he heads to the slab and begins to look it over.
(Not sure how a semi-hermit, woodland fairing barbarian would consider inspecting this, but all choices seem INT based: 14)
Seeing no obvious sign of purpose or origin, Badger begins to relieve his beer bladder on the slab.
Grishkar Darkmoor, Necromancer of Nerull the Despiser Kelvin Rabbitfoot, Diviner, con artist, always hunting for a good sale Bründir Halfshield, Valor Bard, three-time Sheercleft Drinking Competition Champion, Hometown hero
Eventually and with much damage to the Badger, the party defeated the mimic, only to be attacked by the giant weasel from the Nine Hells that lurks on the other side of the door and was alerted by Bran's shatter spell. The dire weasel managed to take out the Badger fairly quickly, and, in accordance with his dying wish, the rest of the characters fled through another door.
On the other side of the door is a small room containing several potted palm trees, a wrought-iron bench, and Barlow's new character, Myschael the high elf mystic.
"Good evening. Or good morning. Not really sure in here. Anyway, I'm Myschael. If you haven't guessed, this place is nuttier than elephant dung. Any ideas?"
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Characters:
Grishkar Darkmoor, Necromancer of Nerull the Despiser Kelvin Rabbitfoot, Diviner, con artist, always hunting for a good sale Bründir Halfshield, Valor Bard, three-time Sheercleft Drinking Competition Champion, Hometown hero
Grishkar Darkmoor, Necromancer of Nerull the Despiser Kelvin Rabbitfoot, Diviner, con artist, always hunting for a good sale Bründir Halfshield, Valor Bard, three-time Sheercleft Drinking Competition Champion, Hometown hero
"To put it as best as I can, this place is insanity fashioned by a mind bent on playing with us."
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Characters:
Grishkar Darkmoor, Necromancer of Nerull the Despiser Kelvin Rabbitfoot, Diviner, con artist, always hunting for a good sale Bründir Halfshield, Valor Bard, three-time Sheercleft Drinking Competition Champion, Hometown hero
Zeus and Bran came in and closed and locked the door. Zeus looked at the glowing pots, freaked out, cast detect magic, saw that the pots radiated evocation magic, freaked out some more, remembered that continual flame is an evocation spell, and relaxed. The DM laughed evilly. The next door was locked, so Zeus cast create bonfire on it. While it was burning, the party took a short rest.
On the other side of the door, the party found a boneless chicken ranch. Myschael burned a chicken. A few bandits showed up to steal the chickens. The party--well, mainly Bran--killed them. Looting occurred.
53 daggers, 7 of which are magic; 105 silver; 9 light crossbows, one of which is magic; 180 crossbow bolts; 9 scimitars, one of which is magic; 9 sets of black leather armor; 9 black hoods; 9 pairs of black gloves; 9 black cloth sacks, each large enough for one Small creature or object; 9 sets of thieves' tools; and 60 feet of enchanted silk rope.
The mundane goods got the proverbial cold shoulder, except for the thieves' tools.
The crossbow functions as a circlet of blasting that uses the wielder's attack bonus. It also grants advantage on Charisma (Persuasion) checks made to influence azer.
The scimitar is magic, so it ignores resistance and immunity to nonmagical damage. Its other properties require attunement, and they are as follows: The wielder can, as a bonus action, cause it to turn pitch-black and not reflect light. It grants a +1 bonus to initiative and passive Perception. It lets the wielder speak and understand Goblin and Kobold. (Yes, kobolds have their own language in my setting).
The first dagger you identify isn't very impressive; it contains 7 charges of thaumaturgy and regains 1d6+1 each dawn.
The second dagger is made of coral. It contains 5 charges of shape water, regains 1d4+1 each dawn, and lets you speak fluent Aquan.
The third dagger is slightly more impressive. It lets the bearer speak Deep Speech and has the following property, copied directly from one of the tables in the DMG: Illusion. The item is imbued with illusion magic, allowing its bearer to alter the item’s appearance in minor ways. Such alterations don’t change how the item is worn, carried, or wielded, and they have no effect on its other magical properties. For example, the wearer could make a red robe appear blue, or make a gold ring look like it’s made of ivory. The item reverts to its true appearance when no one is carrying or wearing it. And yes, you can make it look like an ogre-sized greatsword.
One can, as an action, be made to emit bright light in a 10-foot radius and dim light 10 feet past that, or to stop doing so.
One grants its holder proficiency with smith's tools and emits a faint sound that probably comes from an ancient dwarven ballad whenever you hit someone or something with it.
One seems to be made of ice and lets you cast armor of Agathys once per day.
The last dagger requires attunement, grants advantage on saving throws against disease and nonmagical poison, and lets you speak fluent Grung.
The party rested. The trapdoor in the ceiling turned out to be a mimic. Zeus woke up just in time to blind it with a fog cloud and keep it from falling on him. The party ran like Hell.
On the other side of the door the bandits came through is a corridor. At the end of the corridor is a door. In front of the door is hidden death. It opens its maw and sprays acid. Roll Dex saves with disadvantage, folks. (It rolled high on Stealth).
You awake in an octagonal room. The floor, ceiling, and walls are made of marble. There is an octagonal obsidian altar in the center of the room. There is a door, made of rich, dark mahogany and polished brass, in precisely the middle of each wall.
"Any society that would give up a little liberty to gain a little security will deserve neither and lose both" -- allegedly Benjamin Franklin
Tooltips (Help/aid)
Badger wakes in a hung over slump, half-wrapped in a massive fur cloak, "Am I still drunk or is the room the same all around?"
Characters:
Grishkar Darkmoor, Necromancer of Nerull the Despiser
Kelvin Rabbitfoot, Diviner, con artist, always hunting for a good sale
Bründir Halfshield, Valor Bard, three-time Sheercleft Drinking Competition Champion, Hometown hero
"Well it doesn't seems like Bahamut reign so, suppose not to be dead yet...uh...eh....yahhh, it really is, little newfriend....I am Bran Stampede...I would say its a pleasure but I am not so sure of where we are so......"
"Let's have a look"
Perception check: 16
Check the altar and the door
The altar is a single block of obsidian, with a few tiny chips. It has been washed recently.
The brass hinges and doorknobs were polished and--in the case of the hinges--oiled recently. The mahogany has been kept in very good condition as well.
"Any society that would give up a little liberty to gain a little security will deserve neither and lose both" -- allegedly Benjamin Franklin
Tooltips (Help/aid)
Badger gets up, mumbling half-curses. Walking to each of the doors, he casually knocks on some, runs a hand over others, and just stares in some cases. After the doors, he heads to the slab and begins to look it over.
(Not sure how a semi-hermit, woodland fairing barbarian would consider inspecting this, but all choices seem INT based: 14)
Seeing no obvious sign of purpose or origin, Badger begins to relieve his beer bladder on the slab.
Characters:
Grishkar Darkmoor, Necromancer of Nerull the Despiser
Kelvin Rabbitfoot, Diviner, con artist, always hunting for a good sale
Bründir Halfshield, Valor Bard, three-time Sheercleft Drinking Competition Champion, Hometown hero
Badger's hand sticks to the first door he touches, which promptly sprouts fangs and bites him for 8 damage.
"Any society that would give up a little liberty to gain a little security will deserve neither and lose both" -- allegedly Benjamin Franklin
Tooltips (Help/aid)
Condensing. . .
Eventually and with much damage to the Badger, the party defeated the mimic, only to be attacked by the giant weasel from the Nine Hells that lurks on the other side of the door and was alerted by Bran's shatter spell. The dire weasel managed to take out the Badger fairly quickly, and, in accordance with his dying wish, the rest of the characters fled through another door.
On the other side of the door is a small room containing several potted palm trees, a wrought-iron bench, and Barlow's new character, Myschael the high elf mystic.
"Any society that would give up a little liberty to gain a little security will deserve neither and lose both" -- allegedly Benjamin Franklin
Tooltips (Help/aid)
"Good evening. Or good morning. Not really sure in here. Anyway, I'm Myschael. If you haven't guessed, this place is nuttier than elephant dung. Any ideas?"
Characters:
Grishkar Darkmoor, Necromancer of Nerull the Despiser
Kelvin Rabbitfoot, Diviner, con artist, always hunting for a good sale
Bründir Halfshield, Valor Bard, three-time Sheercleft Drinking Competition Champion, Hometown hero
I forgot to mention that the light in this room is coming from the pots.
"Any society that would give up a little liberty to gain a little security will deserve neither and lose both" -- allegedly Benjamin Franklin
Tooltips (Help/aid)
(Thomas Covenant reference?)
Characters:
Grishkar Darkmoor, Necromancer of Nerull the Despiser
Kelvin Rabbitfoot, Diviner, con artist, always hunting for a good sale
Bründir Halfshield, Valor Bard, three-time Sheercleft Drinking Competition Champion, Hometown hero
Bran Stampede
"What the hell is going on here?"
"To put it as best as I can, this place is insanity fashioned by a mind bent on playing with us."
Characters:
Grishkar Darkmoor, Necromancer of Nerull the Despiser
Kelvin Rabbitfoot, Diviner, con artist, always hunting for a good sale
Bründir Halfshield, Valor Bard, three-time Sheercleft Drinking Competition Champion, Hometown hero
Okay, here's what happened.
Zeus and Bran came in and closed and locked the door. Zeus looked at the glowing pots, freaked out, cast detect magic, saw that the pots radiated evocation magic, freaked out some more, remembered that continual flame is an evocation spell, and relaxed. The DM laughed evilly. The next door was locked, so Zeus cast create bonfire on it. While it was burning, the party took a short rest.
On the other side of the door, the party found a boneless chicken ranch. Myschael burned a chicken. A few bandits showed up to steal the chickens. The party--well, mainly Bran--killed them. Looting occurred.
53 daggers, 7 of which are magic; 105 silver; 9 light crossbows, one of which is magic; 180 crossbow bolts; 9 scimitars, one of which is magic; 9 sets of black leather armor; 9 black hoods; 9 pairs of black gloves; 9 black cloth sacks, each large enough for one Small creature or object; 9 sets of thieves' tools; and 60 feet of enchanted silk rope.
The mundane goods got the proverbial cold shoulder, except for the thieves' tools.
Its other properties require attunement, and they are as follows:
The wielder can, as a bonus action, cause it to turn pitch-black and not reflect light.
It grants a +1 bonus to initiative and passive Perception.
It lets the wielder speak and understand Goblin and Kobold. (Yes, kobolds have their own language in my setting).
Illusion. The item is imbued with illusion magic, allowing its bearer to alter the item’s appearance in minor ways. Such alterations don’t change how the item is worn, carried, or wielded, and they have no effect on its other magical properties. For example, the wearer could make a red robe appear blue, or make a gold ring look like it’s made of ivory. The item reverts to its true appearance when no one is carrying or wearing it.
And yes, you can make it look like an ogre-sized greatsword.
The party rested. The trapdoor in the ceiling turned out to be a mimic. Zeus woke up just in time to blind it with a fog cloud and keep it from falling on him. The party ran like Hell.
On the other side of the door the bandits came through is a corridor. At the end of the corridor is a door. In front of the door is hidden death. It opens its maw and sprays acid. Roll Dex saves with disadvantage, folks. (It rolled high on Stealth).
"Any society that would give up a little liberty to gain a little security will deserve neither and lose both" -- allegedly Benjamin Franklin
Tooltips (Help/aid)