Durnik grimaces at the spider’s bite, and he quickly checks his beard to make sure it’s still attached. Noticing that a chunk of it is missing he’ll angrily kick at the spider’s corpse. Durnik suggests they continue forward or find out where the singing is coming from.
Zithers strains his senses and detects: singing. Durnik is a little more perceptive and detects a strange accent to the voice, and a slight aroma of something cooking. Not proper dwarf-food, but something edible, anyway. The pleasant smell is quickly overpowered by a disgusting odor wafting down from the spiders' den.
From further southeast in the tunnel, the singing had started over again, but stopped suddenly at Cerlinde's salutation. Now, there is only silence...
The spiders' ceiling trapdoor hangs open in front of Mohdrak, while the tunnel disappears into inky blackness beyond the torchlight. Those with darkvision see nothing but rough-dug passages ahead and behind. Nothing besides a bunch of dead spiders, that is.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Before Zithers follows Cerlinde and Amelia, he would like to glance upwards through the spider trapdoors and let people know if he sees anything noteworthy in this spot in the ceiling (perception 18)
Zithers catches a glimpse of an area full of webs, and some unlucky victims of the spiders, hanging upside down, wrapped in silk, half eaten. None appear to be humanoid.
As Mohdrak pauses indecisively, Cerlinde and Amelia push by him, intent on investigating the origin of the voice. As you pass round another bend in the tunnel back toward the south, you come to a ledge. The tunnel you have been traveling widens out in all directions to become a 30-foot diameter round passage. You have to scramble down a ten foot drop-off to get to the floor. Immediately noticeable on your left, recessed in the wall of the tunnel is a 20 foot high round green door, with a shiny golden knob the size of a wagon wheel in the center. There is also a lit torch in a sconce to the left of the door on the wall.
One by one you descend from the ledge, Jack and Durnik bringing up the rear and groaning a bit as their injuries get jostled by the climbing.
With all the spiders dead and the danger passed, Mohdrak took a moment to get most, hopefully all, of the ichor out of his fur as he followed the others.
'What the-' He paused when the singing reached his ears. 'Someone lives down here?'
"Well isn't this a cozy little front porch," Zithers mutters, shaking his head. "Lets hope this mystery singer is as nice as their voice is. I'd open the door but you'd have to stack three or four of me to even reach this doorknob"
Amelia is reasonably certain that she could try to climb up. Whether she would succeed or not.... I suppose if you wanted to hammer climbing pitons into someone's nice front door, you could give it a go.
Cerlinde successfully taps a pebble on the door, but it doesn't produce much in the way of sound. From the 20 foot height of the door, you assume it to be at least 6-12 inches thick of what seems to be sturdy, solid wood. If you wanted to alert someone to your presence, it will require a stronger effort.
Since Zithers can barely hear Cerlinde's knock from this side of the door, he assumes that whoever is singing at the top of their lungs won't either, so he takes his walking staff and makes three presumably audible knocks against the door, and backs up for both if it swings outwards and to make a quick getaway if it turns out to be some malicious gnome-hungry parrot.
As Zithers raps his staff on the large door, the third knock reverberates unusually loudly. The surface of the doorknob seems to split horizontally and retract, revealing a huge violet eye which looks first left, then right, then up.... then down at the party. The eye then blinks twice as the pupil narrows while studying you. After a 10 second eternity of submitting to this examination, the eye closes, and the doorknob resumes its prior appearance. The green door slowly swings open with some loud creaks, revealing a much nicer side tunnel, leading into a well-lit room.
A voice drifts down the tunnel, the same voice you heard before: "Ooo-eee, come in, come in! What a surprise, this, yes! Visitors! I's never had visitors before! Not in a long while, no!"
Your party, with some trepidation, follows this entrance to a large dome-shaped room, where a creature the size of a stone giant is seated on a comfy-looking cushioned chair. There is a fireplace in one wall, and a sphere of pure light floating in the air near the creature's head, providing illumination to the room. A bookshelf occupies another wall, full of volumes about the same height as Zithers. A 10 foot high writing desk is near the bookshelf, and another tunnel leads off to the the side. A large mat intricately woven from foot-wide blades of grass covers the floor.
"Welcome!" exclaims your host, a little too loudly. "Oh, where are me manners? Me name is Amos. Amos Gooseberry. And who might ye be?"
"Okayy... So I'm Jack, and... you don't seem surprised to find out we're the size of a needle?" Jack doesn't understand what's going on. He's never been much of a brain user, though.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
"Losing to a master is nothing to be ashamed of, unless you learn nothing from the experience."
Amos stutters, "W-w-well... you mean... that isn't yer normal size? I thought maybe ye was some sort of pixies or something. Me parents always told me I was the runt o' the litter, so it's interesting to meet someones smaller than meself. Really, that's why I's invited ye in... never seen anyone so... uh... delicate as yerselves."
As he speaks, the floating luminescent ball bobs up and down, spinning more quickly.
Squinting at Jack, he says,"Ooo-eee, thou'rt wounded, little 'un. Can I help thee? And thy friend... the even littler one... would 'e like some help as well?"
“Well, it is an honor to meet you, Amos. , I had no idea such as you existed. I am Cerlinde, an elf. Yes we’ve been… err .. shrunk by some sort of magic- and yes I am hurt, thank you for noticing. “ Cerlinde says, looking around in wonder.
Jack slashes the final spider in half. He and Durnik are seriously wounded. No more enemies are immediately apparent. What would you like to do?
Durnik grimaces at the spider’s bite, and he quickly checks his beard to make sure it’s still attached. Noticing that a chunk of it is missing he’ll angrily kick at the spider’s corpse. Durnik suggests they continue forward or find out where the singing is coming from.
Perception:23
Con Save: 19
Cerlinde says “singing… very strange. How could someone else be this size? “Hello there! “ she yells down the halll towards the voice.
Zithers strains his senses and detects: singing. Durnik is a little more perceptive and detects a strange accent to the voice, and a slight aroma of something cooking. Not proper dwarf-food, but something edible, anyway. The pleasant smell is quickly overpowered by a disgusting odor wafting down from the spiders' den.
From further southeast in the tunnel, the singing had started over again, but stopped suddenly at Cerlinde's salutation. Now, there is only silence...
The spiders' ceiling trapdoor hangs open in front of Mohdrak, while the tunnel disappears into inky blackness beyond the torchlight. Those with darkvision see nothing but rough-dug passages ahead and behind. Nothing besides a bunch of dead spiders, that is.
Cerlinde starts walking down the hall towards where the sound was coming from.
Amelia does the same, gripping her swords tightly, ready to brandish them if necessary. She keeps an eye out for anything noteworthy.
Perception: 25
Before Zithers follows Cerlinde and Amelia, he would like to glance upwards through the spider trapdoors and let people know if he sees anything noteworthy in this spot in the ceiling (perception 18)
Zithers catches a glimpse of an area full of webs, and some unlucky victims of the spiders, hanging upside down, wrapped in silk, half eaten. None appear to be humanoid.
As Mohdrak pauses indecisively, Cerlinde and Amelia push by him, intent on investigating the origin of the voice. As you pass round another bend in the tunnel back toward the south, you come to a ledge. The tunnel you have been traveling widens out in all directions to become a 30-foot diameter round passage. You have to scramble down a ten foot drop-off to get to the floor. Immediately noticeable on your left, recessed in the wall of the tunnel is a 20 foot high round green door, with a shiny golden knob the size of a wagon wheel in the center. There is also a lit torch in a sconce to the left of the door on the wall.
One by one you descend from the ledge, Jack and Durnik bringing up the rear and groaning a bit as their injuries get jostled by the climbing.
With all the spiders dead and the danger passed, Mohdrak took a moment to get most, hopefully all, of the ichor out of his fur as he followed the others.
'What the-' He paused when the singing reached his ears. 'Someone lives down here?'
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"Well isn't this a cozy little front porch," Zithers mutters, shaking his head. "Lets hope this mystery singer is as nice as their voice is. I'd open the door but you'd have to stack three or four of me to even reach this doorknob"
JACK
A bit recovered, Jack follows the group through the tunnel to where the singing can be heard.
"Man, this is all too weird. There's a singer there who's been reduced by the machine as well?"
"Losing to a master is nothing to be ashamed of, unless you learn nothing from the experience."
Master Suana.
Amelia tries to determine if she could climb up the wall to the doorknob.
Investigation: 18
Amelia is reasonably certain that she could try to climb up. Whether she would succeed or not.... I suppose if you wanted to hammer climbing pitons into someone's nice front door, you could give it a go.
“I can knock,” Cerlinde says. She picks up a pebble with mage hand and uses it to knock gently on the door.
Cerlinde successfully taps a pebble on the door, but it doesn't produce much in the way of sound. From the 20 foot height of the door, you assume it to be at least 6-12 inches thick of what seems to be sturdy, solid wood. If you wanted to alert someone to your presence, it will require a stronger effort.
Since Zithers can barely hear Cerlinde's knock from this side of the door, he assumes that whoever is singing at the top of their lungs won't either, so he takes his walking staff and makes three presumably audible knocks against the door, and backs up for both if it swings outwards and to make a quick getaway if it turns out to be some malicious gnome-hungry parrot.
As Zithers raps his staff on the large door, the third knock reverberates unusually loudly. The surface of the doorknob seems to split horizontally and retract, revealing a huge violet eye which looks first left, then right, then up.... then down at the party. The eye then blinks twice as the pupil narrows while studying you. After a 10 second eternity of submitting to this examination, the eye closes, and the doorknob resumes its prior appearance. The green door slowly swings open with some loud creaks, revealing a much nicer side tunnel, leading into a well-lit room.
A voice drifts down the tunnel, the same voice you heard before: "Ooo-eee, come in, come in! What a surprise, this, yes! Visitors! I's never had visitors before! Not in a long while, no!"
Your party, with some trepidation, follows this entrance to a large dome-shaped room, where a creature the size of a stone giant is seated on a comfy-looking cushioned chair. There is a fireplace in one wall, and a sphere of pure light floating in the air near the creature's head, providing illumination to the room. A bookshelf occupies another wall, full of volumes about the same height as Zithers. A 10 foot high writing desk is near the bookshelf, and another tunnel leads off to the the side. A large mat intricately woven from foot-wide blades of grass covers the floor.
"Welcome!" exclaims your host, a little too loudly. "Oh, where are me manners? Me name is Amos. Amos Gooseberry. And who might ye be?"
JACK
"Okayy... So I'm Jack, and... you don't seem surprised to find out we're the size of a needle?" Jack doesn't understand what's going on. He's never been much of a brain user, though.
"Losing to a master is nothing to be ashamed of, unless you learn nothing from the experience."
Master Suana.
Amos stutters, "W-w-well... you mean... that isn't yer normal size? I thought maybe ye was some sort of pixies or something. Me parents always told me I was the runt o' the litter, so it's interesting to meet someones smaller than meself. Really, that's why I's invited ye in... never seen anyone so... uh... delicate as yerselves."
As he speaks, the floating luminescent ball bobs up and down, spinning more quickly.
Squinting at Jack, he says, "Ooo-eee, thou'rt wounded, little 'un. Can I help thee? And thy friend... the even littler one... would 'e like some help as well?"
“Well, it is an honor to meet you, Amos. , I had no idea such as you existed. I am Cerlinde, an elf. Yes we’ve been… err .. shrunk by some sort of magic- and yes I am hurt, thank you for noticing. “ Cerlinde says, looking around in wonder.