Teryn claps his hands together lightly, as if brushing off dust from the decision. “Right then, that settles it. We take what’s useful, leave the rest, and slip away before any overly brave guards decide to poke their heads in.” He casts a glance at the strongbox, a flicker of curiosity still lingering in his eyes before he averts his gaze. "Let’s get that fire going and make ourselves scarce. Anyone care to do the honors? I'm afraid I have no fire spells prepared, but I do have some oil."
Ellanise pulls a torch out of her pack and the clockwork fish out of her pocket. "Not useful," she says, lifting the orb. "Useful," she says, lifting the torch. After putting the orb back in the box, she speaks a short incantation and makes a funny hand gesture at the torch. It lights with a small *flumph*.
Rowan tilts the wooden statuette in his hand, giving Byldeth a faint shrug. “Don’t think of it as stealin’, friend—more like savin’ it from goin’ up in smoke. If the rightful owners come knockin’, we’ll talk.” He glances back at the growing flames, then steps toward the tunnel exit, waving a hand for the others to do the same. “But if we’re set on a blaze, best we’re not still standin’ here when it catches. I’d say let whoever’s got the spark do their thing, then make tracks fast—one wrong gust, and we’ll smoke ourselves right out. Here’s hopin’ the path’s clear once we bolt.”
The flicker of flames dances along the walls, casting jagged shadows as the fire takes to the stacked crates and discarded debris. The damp air of the tunnel hisses as embers lick at aged wood. The first tendrils of thick, acrid smoke curl toward the ceiling. It is no raging inferno, but a smokescreen for an escape, a temporary chokehold on the illicit trade that flourishes here.
With quick steps, everyone presses forward, leaving the growing fire behind. Your exit through the hatch ahead is careful but swift. Beyond, the air shifts, it's cooler, less stagnant. The next chamber is small, little more than a storeroom carved into the underground network. Barrels and sacks line the walls, filled with preserved goods and supplies, likely for the workers moving goods between the tunnels and the outside world. A single lantern hangs from a hook, its dim glow revealing the scattered footprints of recent movement.
The three figures from earlier definitely passed through here not long ago.
Rowan sets one foot carefully inside the storeroom, the faint crunch of loose gravel echoing in the hush. He gives the place a quick sweep with his gaze—no immediate traps or angry faces jumping out at them. Satisfied enough, he turns to make sure Ellanise, Teryn, Byldeth, and Käinen are on his heels, then lowers his voice. “Looks like we’re clear for the moment, but no telling how long. Those three we spooked might be regroupin’ right outside.” He gestures toward the far side of the room, teeth set in a grim line. “Come on, let’s keep movin’. If they get their second wind and decide to block our exit, I’d rather meet ’em on our terms—not cramped in a pantry.”
After stepping into the next chamber, Ellanise looks over her shoulder. What if the flames get out of hand? She suddenly imagines the fire overtaking the docks, ruining businesses and perhaps even hurting innocent people. "Maybe we should make sure the fire doesn't get out of hand," she says quietly. Her wish to escape reduces her voice to almost a whisper. She hesitates, her muscles not knowing which side of her mind to listen to.
The storeroom’s air is noticeably cooler, but the distant crackle of flames behind you serves as an urgent reminder of what you have left in your wake. The faint glow of the fire’s embers flickers against the edges of the hatchway, casting shadows across the stone walls.
Teryn’s quick scan of the room reveals stacks of supplies, barrels of grain, crates marked with foreign sigils, and bundles of cloth and rope. Among the mundane, one small, unassuming, locked chest catches his attention, tucked beneath a worn tarp near the far wall. A hastily scrawled symbol in charcoal marks its lid; a mark of ownership, but no name to accompany it.
Rowan’s instincts prove sharp. There are sounds and footsteps growing closer. Not in frantic movement, but measured, perhaps cautious, perhaps angry. The three figures from before are returning, possibly with reinforcements.
Ellanise’s concern lingers as she glances back toward the hatch, the tendrils of smoke thickening ever so slightly. The fire was meant as a distraction, but could spread beyond its intended reach. The storeroom itself won’t burn, but if the flames breach an exit shaft to the surface, the docks above could be in real danger.
"A little late for second thoughts, isn't it?" Teryn remarks quietly before giving a shrug, "I suppose we could tell the city watch we saw smoke from the warehouse. They'd have no way of knowing we started it...Anyway, there's a locked chest back here if anyone is interested." The elf gravitates towards the mystery chest curiously.
Rowan tenses at the echo of footsteps, sliding a few steps toward the passage where they’ll have to face these new arrivals. He raises a hand in a quick, urgent gesture for silence. “We got company comin’, no mistake about it,” he murmurs under his breath, glancing back at the others. “So what’s the play? We try actin’ like we got caught in the fire and make a run for it in the confusion if possible, or do we skip the charade and get our blades out? ’Cause we’d best pick fast, before they pick for us.”
Rowan presses against the wall next to the entry to the storeroom, so that he can act quickly should they be discovered, and hoping that whoever enters will be distracted by the view of the flames and not glance around too carefully.
“I like how you think.” He said to Rowan as the halfling spoke to Byldeth about stealing. We’re leading the paladin to the wrong path, Käinen thought adding arson to the mental list of the crimes he committed. Although, if things were as serious as the professor told, they were actually doing good. Either way, it wouldn’t weight on his consciousness.
Moving on the next room, the goliath was so worried about signs of enemies that he only noticed the chest when Teryn pointed it.
“Imagine if the book was on it and we pass it by.” Käinen said with a half-smile that dissipated as soon as he pictured that happening. “Let’s not tempt fate.” He pulled his thieves’ tools. “Should I try the key?” Roawn’s warning came before any decision. “Third option – hide.”
An advice Käinen was fast to follow. Withy silent steps he sought shade and cover, returning the tools to his pocket and crouching. Admittedly his words were but an abridged version of what the Wardens would have put more poetically, as some maxim about the wisdom or honor in avoiding conflict. His dwarf master was likely to know no less than three proverbs on this vein in each language he spoke and sometimes the goliath thought he spoke every language in the world.
Notes: Natural 20 on the stealth check for 29 total (rolled in the campaign log).
“We got company comin’, no mistake about it,” Rowan murmurs under his breath, glancing back at the others. “So what’s the play? We try actin’ like we got caught in the fire and make a run for it in the confusion if possible, or do we skip the charade and get our blades out? ’Cause we’d best pick fast, before they pick for us.”
Ellanise looks at the smoke rising from the hatch and then back at the others. "Hide and hope they run past us?" she asks with a slight shrug.
As the boys hurry to do just that, she raises her eyebrows in surprise. Hiding it is. She looks back at the smoke and once again says something in Elvish while making an odd hand gesture. Suddenly the room smells more smoky than it just had. Anything to help draw the oncoming visitors through the room without stopping, the better.
Byldeth grunts, a bit nervous about being caught. He felt like a criminal escaping a crime scene!
Stealth (with dis due to heavy armor) : 8
Byldeth takes a deep breath, however the smoke makes him cough. He hacks, running towards their hiding spot as he closed his mouth, trying to stop the coughing fit, but to no avail. At least he tried to muffle it.
Teryn reflexively casts minor illusion at the center of the room, hoping to drown out Byldeth's coughing fit with the exaggerated sounds of flames. At the same time he reaches over to pat the dwarf on the back, hoping to calm him down.
The scent of smoke grows heavier now—faint wisps curling through the edges of the hatch the party slipped through. From your concealed positions within the storeroom, everyone watches and waits, pressed into shadows between stacked crates, barrels, and tattered supply cloths. The only sounds are the distant crackling of the controlled blaze you left behind... and the rapidly approaching footsteps from outside.
The door creaks open.
Coughing and muttering, the three figures from earlier spill back into the room, one of them swatting at the smoky air, the other two scanning the area in a rush.
"Still smells like something’s burning,” one huffs. “Didn’t collapse fully, but it's bad down there.”
“The floor was shaking,” the second snaps. “We’re lucky we got out. You wanna go pokin’ around in that death trap again?”
“Shut it,” the third growls, working his way to the crate they’d abandoned earlier. “Still here.” They say as they peek down the hatch. They move down and run a hand over the lid, inspecting the box for damage or tampering. “We’ll need to move this soon. Too many people sniffin’ around lately.”
Afterward, the three circle the room briefly, nervous, but distracted. The quake they reported has them more concerned with escape routes and contingency plans than a thorough inspection. Their eyes skim past the crates where Rowan and Byldeth crouch low. Käinen remains a statue in the shadows, and Teryn doesn’t so much as breathe. Even Ellanise, despite her unease about the fire, keeps perfectly still behind a leaning shelf of half-covered cargo.
After a tense moment, one of them mutters, “We should get the word out to the buyers. If the tunnel’s busted, we’ll need a new route.”
“Yeah,” another agrees. “Let’s move. Fast.”
Without another word, they leave again, back through a side door deeper into the dock district, boots thudding hurriedly on the worn wood as they vanish from sight. The door creaks shut behind them. You remain untouched, unnoticed.
The moment stretches. Then, silence. The fire continues to smolder far below, but here, in the storeroom, you still have some time.
Teryn exhales softly through his nose, tension still coiled in his shoulders. His silver eyes flick toward the now-closed door, and for a moment his hand twitches—tempted to seal it shut and leave the smugglers to their smoky fate. But he sighs, letting the urge pass. “No sense making corpses we don’t need,” he murmurs, more to himself than anyone else.
He then turns back to the group and lowers the small chest onto a nearby crate with a muffled thunk. “Now that the rats have scurried off,” he says, brushing soot from his sleeve, “let’s see what this holds. Käinen?” He offers the box toward the goliath, eyebrow raised, “Or anyone else with nimble fingers. Without the chest, we can carry what’s inside without drawing as much attention.”
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Teryn claps his hands together lightly, as if brushing off dust from the decision. “Right then, that settles it. We take what’s useful, leave the rest, and slip away before any overly brave guards decide to poke their heads in.” He casts a glance at the strongbox, a flicker of curiosity still lingering in his eyes before he averts his gaze. "Let’s get that fire going and make ourselves scarce. Anyone care to do the honors? I'm afraid I have no fire spells prepared, but I do have some oil."
Ellanise pulls a torch out of her pack and the clockwork fish out of her pocket. "Not useful," she says, lifting the orb. "Useful," she says, lifting the torch. After putting the orb back in the box, she speaks a short incantation and makes a funny hand gesture at the torch. It lights with a small *flumph*.
Rowan tilts the wooden statuette in his hand, giving Byldeth a faint shrug. “Don’t think of it as stealin’, friend—more like savin’ it from goin’ up in smoke. If the rightful owners come knockin’, we’ll talk.” He glances back at the growing flames, then steps toward the tunnel exit, waving a hand for the others to do the same. “But if we’re set on a blaze, best we’re not still standin’ here when it catches. I’d say let whoever’s got the spark do their thing, then make tracks fast—one wrong gust, and we’ll smoke ourselves right out. Here’s hopin’ the path’s clear once we bolt.”
|| Oriace - Halfling Bard - Dragon Heist || Valerian - Pallid Elf Rogue - Wildnis || b'Reh - Stig Order Cleric - Humblewood || Rowan - Halfling Giant Path Barbarian - Runewarren || Shaephina - Half-Drow Blood Cleric/Wizard - Murder Court || Ianjin - Gallus Open Hand Monk - Mad Empiricist || Khazela - Spiritfarer Dervish - Tribute Court || Arista - Human Frost Giant Sorcerer - The Old Keep ||
"I'll give you a head start," Ellanise says, nodding toward the doorway.
Teryn nods and moves towards the exit with Rowan.
The flicker of flames dances along the walls, casting jagged shadows as the fire takes to the stacked crates and discarded debris. The damp air of the tunnel hisses as embers lick at aged wood. The first tendrils of thick, acrid smoke curl toward the ceiling. It is no raging inferno, but a smokescreen for an escape, a temporary chokehold on the illicit trade that flourishes here.
With quick steps, everyone presses forward, leaving the growing fire behind. Your exit through the hatch ahead is careful but swift. Beyond, the air shifts, it's cooler, less stagnant. The next chamber is small, little more than a storeroom carved into the underground network. Barrels and sacks line the walls, filled with preserved goods and supplies, likely for the workers moving goods between the tunnels and the outside world. A single lantern hangs from a hook, its dim glow revealing the scattered footprints of recent movement.
The three figures from earlier definitely passed through here not long ago.
DM : The Shade Over Runewarren | Vaelen Gravesong : Shadow of Eternal Night
"Fear is the weight we carry, love is the treasure we bury."
Teryn gives the room a quick once-over as they enter, looking for anything particularly useful or interesting before they move on.
Perception: 19
Rowan sets one foot carefully inside the storeroom, the faint crunch of loose gravel echoing in the hush. He gives the place a quick sweep with his gaze—no immediate traps or angry faces jumping out at them. Satisfied enough, he turns to make sure Ellanise, Teryn, Byldeth, and Käinen are on his heels, then lowers his voice. “Looks like we’re clear for the moment, but no telling how long. Those three we spooked might be regroupin’ right outside.” He gestures toward the far side of the room, teeth set in a grim line. “Come on, let’s keep movin’. If they get their second wind and decide to block our exit, I’d rather meet ’em on our terms—not cramped in a pantry.”
|| Oriace - Halfling Bard - Dragon Heist || Valerian - Pallid Elf Rogue - Wildnis || b'Reh - Stig Order Cleric - Humblewood || Rowan - Halfling Giant Path Barbarian - Runewarren || Shaephina - Half-Drow Blood Cleric/Wizard - Murder Court || Ianjin - Gallus Open Hand Monk - Mad Empiricist || Khazela - Spiritfarer Dervish - Tribute Court || Arista - Human Frost Giant Sorcerer - The Old Keep ||
After stepping into the next chamber, Ellanise looks over her shoulder. What if the flames get out of hand? She suddenly imagines the fire overtaking the docks, ruining businesses and perhaps even hurting innocent people. "Maybe we should make sure the fire doesn't get out of hand," she says quietly. Her wish to escape reduces her voice to almost a whisper. She hesitates, her muscles not knowing which side of her mind to listen to.
The storeroom’s air is noticeably cooler, but the distant crackle of flames behind you serves as an urgent reminder of what you have left in your wake. The faint glow of the fire’s embers flickers against the edges of the hatchway, casting shadows across the stone walls.
Teryn’s quick scan of the room reveals stacks of supplies, barrels of grain, crates marked with foreign sigils, and bundles of cloth and rope. Among the mundane, one small, unassuming, locked chest catches his attention, tucked beneath a worn tarp near the far wall. A hastily scrawled symbol in charcoal marks its lid; a mark of ownership, but no name to accompany it.
Rowan’s instincts prove sharp. There are sounds and footsteps growing closer. Not in frantic movement, but measured, perhaps cautious, perhaps angry. The three figures from before are returning, possibly with reinforcements.
Ellanise’s concern lingers as she glances back toward the hatch, the tendrils of smoke thickening ever so slightly. The fire was meant as a distraction, but could spread beyond its intended reach. The storeroom itself won’t burn, but if the flames breach an exit shaft to the surface, the docks above could be in real danger.
DM : The Shade Over Runewarren | Vaelen Gravesong : Shadow of Eternal Night
"Fear is the weight we carry, love is the treasure we bury."
"A little late for second thoughts, isn't it?" Teryn remarks quietly before giving a shrug, "I suppose we could tell the city watch we saw smoke from the warehouse. They'd have no way of knowing we started it...Anyway, there's a locked chest back here if anyone is interested." The elf gravitates towards the mystery chest curiously.
Rowan tenses at the echo of footsteps, sliding a few steps toward the passage where they’ll have to face these new arrivals. He raises a hand in a quick, urgent gesture for silence. “We got company comin’, no mistake about it,” he murmurs under his breath, glancing back at the others. “So what’s the play? We try actin’ like we got caught in the fire and make a run for it in the confusion if possible, or do we skip the charade and get our blades out? ’Cause we’d best pick fast, before they pick for us.”
|| Oriace - Halfling Bard - Dragon Heist || Valerian - Pallid Elf Rogue - Wildnis || b'Reh - Stig Order Cleric - Humblewood || Rowan - Halfling Giant Path Barbarian - Runewarren || Shaephina - Half-Drow Blood Cleric/Wizard - Murder Court || Ianjin - Gallus Open Hand Monk - Mad Empiricist || Khazela - Spiritfarer Dervish - Tribute Court || Arista - Human Frost Giant Sorcerer - The Old Keep ||
Teryn tucks the chest under one arm upon hearing Rowan's warning and quickly moves to hide behind some crates.
Stealth: 19
Rowan presses against the wall next to the entry to the storeroom, so that he can act quickly should they be discovered, and hoping that whoever enters will be distracted by the view of the flames and not glance around too carefully.
(Stealth 12)
|| Oriace - Halfling Bard - Dragon Heist || Valerian - Pallid Elf Rogue - Wildnis || b'Reh - Stig Order Cleric - Humblewood || Rowan - Halfling Giant Path Barbarian - Runewarren || Shaephina - Half-Drow Blood Cleric/Wizard - Murder Court || Ianjin - Gallus Open Hand Monk - Mad Empiricist || Khazela - Spiritfarer Dervish - Tribute Court || Arista - Human Frost Giant Sorcerer - The Old Keep ||
“I like how you think.” He said to Rowan as the halfling spoke to Byldeth about stealing. We’re leading the paladin to the wrong path, Käinen thought adding arson to the mental list of the crimes he committed. Although, if things were as serious as the professor told, they were actually doing good. Either way, it wouldn’t weight on his consciousness.
Moving on the next room, the goliath was so worried about signs of enemies that he only noticed the chest when Teryn pointed it.
“Imagine if the book was on it and we pass it by.” Käinen said with a half-smile that dissipated as soon as he pictured that happening. “Let’s not tempt fate.” He pulled his thieves’ tools. “Should I try the key?” Roawn’s warning came before any decision. “Third option – hide.”
An advice Käinen was fast to follow. Withy silent steps he sought shade and cover, returning the tools to his pocket and crouching. Admittedly his words were but an abridged version of what the Wardens would have put more poetically, as some maxim about the wisdom or honor in avoiding conflict. His dwarf master was likely to know no less than three proverbs on this vein in each language he spoke and sometimes the goliath thought he spoke every language in the world.
Notes: Natural 20 on the stealth check for 29 total (rolled in the campaign log).
Stealth (with advantage thanks to boots): 14 & 24
“We got company comin’, no mistake about it,” Rowan murmurs under his breath, glancing back at the others. “So what’s the play? We try actin’ like we got caught in the fire and make a run for it in the confusion if possible, or do we skip the charade and get our blades out? ’Cause we’d best pick fast, before they pick for us.”
Ellanise looks at the smoke rising from the hatch and then back at the others. "Hide and hope they run past us?" she asks with a slight shrug.
As the boys hurry to do just that, she raises her eyebrows in surprise. Hiding it is. She looks back at the smoke and once again says something in Elvish while making an odd hand gesture. Suddenly the room smells more smoky than it just had. Anything to help draw the oncoming visitors through the room without stopping, the better.
She then joins the others in hiding.
Byldeth grunts, a bit nervous about being caught. He felt like a criminal escaping a crime scene!
Stealth (with dis due to heavy armor) : 8
Byldeth takes a deep breath, however the smoke makes him cough. He hacks, running towards their hiding spot as he closed his mouth, trying to stop the coughing fit, but to no avail. At least he tried to muffle it.
"S-sor- COUGH- Sorry"
Teryn reflexively casts minor illusion at the center of the room, hoping to drown out Byldeth's coughing fit with the exaggerated sounds of flames. At the same time he reaches over to pat the dwarf on the back, hoping to calm him down.
The scent of smoke grows heavier now—faint wisps curling through the edges of the hatch the party slipped through. From your concealed positions within the storeroom, everyone watches and waits, pressed into shadows between stacked crates, barrels, and tattered supply cloths. The only sounds are the distant crackling of the controlled blaze you left behind... and the rapidly approaching footsteps from outside.
The door creaks open.
Coughing and muttering, the three figures from earlier spill back into the room, one of them swatting at the smoky air, the other two scanning the area in a rush.
"Still smells like something’s burning,” one huffs. “Didn’t collapse fully, but it's bad down there.”
“The floor was shaking,” the second snaps. “We’re lucky we got out. You wanna go pokin’ around in that death trap again?”
“Shut it,” the third growls, working his way to the crate they’d abandoned earlier. “Still here.” They say as they peek down the hatch. They move down and run a hand over the lid, inspecting the box for damage or tampering. “We’ll need to move this soon. Too many people sniffin’ around lately.”
Afterward, the three circle the room briefly, nervous, but distracted. The quake they reported has them more concerned with escape routes and contingency plans than a thorough inspection. Their eyes skim past the crates where Rowan and Byldeth crouch low. Käinen remains a statue in the shadows, and Teryn doesn’t so much as breathe. Even Ellanise, despite her unease about the fire, keeps perfectly still behind a leaning shelf of half-covered cargo.
After a tense moment, one of them mutters, “We should get the word out to the buyers. If the tunnel’s busted, we’ll need a new route.”
“Yeah,” another agrees. “Let’s move. Fast.”
Without another word, they leave again, back through a side door deeper into the dock district, boots thudding hurriedly on the worn wood as they vanish from sight. The door creaks shut behind them. You remain untouched, unnoticed.
The moment stretches. Then, silence. The fire continues to smolder far below, but here, in the storeroom, you still have some time.
DM : The Shade Over Runewarren | Vaelen Gravesong : Shadow of Eternal Night
"Fear is the weight we carry, love is the treasure we bury."
Teryn exhales softly through his nose, tension still coiled in his shoulders. His silver eyes flick toward the now-closed door, and for a moment his hand twitches—tempted to seal it shut and leave the smugglers to their smoky fate. But he sighs, letting the urge pass. “No sense making corpses we don’t need,” he murmurs, more to himself than anyone else.
He then turns back to the group and lowers the small chest onto a nearby crate with a muffled thunk. “Now that the rats have scurried off,” he says, brushing soot from his sleeve, “let’s see what this holds. Käinen?” He offers the box toward the goliath, eyebrow raised, “Or anyone else with nimble fingers. Without the chest, we can carry what’s inside without drawing as much attention.”