[OOC: Gus has the mending spell, so he can use it to "clean" some of this up. I am asking for input into how much the spell could be leveraged to achieve that end]
A single casting (1 minute) could straighten the top bolt, another could repair the damaged bottom padlock (if you make a roll [Perception, 15+ ] to find the missing part on the ground!)
The torn hinge is beyond the power of the spell, though it might be hammered back into place, given enough brute force [Strength, 15+]
[Gus has proficiency and a +4 in his thieves tools? Maybe next time.]
(ooc: the crowbar offers advantage so that's why I rolled with advantage, and although it's easier to pick a lock than an hinge... due to locks being construction to keep things closed and hinges being constructed to allow things to swing open or shut... the hinges would of been easier to open with a crowbar.)
(but all that aside I have no problem with Tuu' Saayn offering advise to Gryn to focus on the locks instead or the DM overriding flavor, story, or roleplay to say that Gryn attacked the other lock instead of the hinges... it is PbP after all and we're all here for a good time, I don't want anyone feeling like my character is just trying to grief the party.)
Gryn lights his hooded lantern and starts into the passage and down the stairs, "Hopefully the Watch won't discover what we've done for a while since they were all drawn away to the other side of town and the market vendors who hardly seem to notice or care about people right next to them disappearing also might not discover, or care, that we've broken in here since it's a ways from the market."
Leading the way and providing light Gryn adds, "But let's make haste just in case."
"A rightful place awaits you in the Realms Above, in the Land of the Great Light. Come in peace, and live beneath the sun again, where trees and flowers grow."
— The message of Eilistraee to all decent drow.
"Run thy sword across my chains, Silver Lady, that I may join your dance.”
(ooc: the crowbar offers advantage so that's why I rolled with advantage, and although it's easier to pick a lock than an hinge... due to locks being construction to keep things closed and hinges being constructed to allow things to swing open or shut... the hinges would of been easier to open with a crowbar.)
Leading the way and providing light Gryn adds, "But let's make haste just in case."
[Alas, no: The crowbar doesn't give you advantage here - it lets you make the attempt at all. Not many halflings can do structural damage with their bare hands! You could have achieved advantage by getting one of the party to add some weight, but never mind, we keep moving.]
Striking a spark into his lamp, Gryn follows the spiral stair down - only about ten feet, so the ceiling of the chamber it opens to would be about the same level as the roadway.
The chamber appears empty: A strange blue glow comes from a crystal half way up the wall on the far side, water trickles from the ceiling down the wall and collects in a raised well, with an overflow drain to one side - similar to the ones in the market, the drain is covered by a stone slab, about two and a half feet square, with bronze handles recessed into the top.
The floor is wet in places, presumably where buckets have been spilled while topping up.
Gus steps up to the thoroughly abused and technically defeated gate, eyebrows raised and expression somewhere between admiration and gentle horror.
Then, with a flick of his wrist and a whispered word, he draws out a sliver of magical thread from his sleeve. Holding it taut between his thumbs, he hums a strangely soothing melody under his breath, a cross between a lullaby and a tavern waltz, as he begins to cast Mending.
The magical thread pulses once, then winds through the air and settles along the warped top bolt. With a soft click, the top bolt straightens.
His attention then turns to the mangled padlock. “Alright, sweetheart, your turn.”He crouches beside it, starting the same gentle incantation, only to pause. A sudden frown.
“…missing piece.”He sniffs at it, as though expecting the answer to rise from the metal like steam. “Where’s your little—oh.” He glances about, scanning the dirt and cobblestone. “Nope. Nothing.”
He sighs, squinting back at the gate, still ugly.
“Good enough.”
Then, without another word, he breaks into a trot to follow after Gryn.
Tuu'Saayn feels like the weight of the world has been lifted from his shoulders when the last lock breaks free. He still hasn't forgotten his failure to get the job done, but the deed was done. Perhaps there is something to this teamwork thing.. he muses silently.
When the party passes the gate he pauses with Gus to make aome attempt to cover their trail of twisted metal and regret. He quietly pockets one of the broken locks, thinking it could come in handy later, and there would be one less thing to try and repair.
He gives Gryn a thankful pat on the shoulder as he moves by, and flashes a grin at Gus. "Maybe next time we can battle the demon spawned hell lock together. I'll spend the next 3-5 years practicing if we get caught doing this... maybe even build a muscle or two doing jail cell exercises. "
When the gate is "fixed" or patched up enough to not draw notice from two miles away, he offers to scout ahead a little ways (40-50 ft ahead) if there is another exit or way down farther.
By the time Tuu'Saayn joins Gryn and Gus, the six-by-six chamber with the well is starting to feel... crowded.
It might have been possible to carry three bodies down those stairs, but it wouldn't have been easy - especially if the washerwoman had been as solidly built as her friend.
The rough stone walls leave no possibility of mundane secret doors, and while the drain cover might technically be an exit, it looks as heavy as the other one.
Other than the strange, faint blue light from the crystal set in the far wall, it looks like a perfectly ordinary well.
"A rightful place awaits you in the Realms Above, in the Land of the Great Light. Come in peace, and live beneath the sun again, where trees and flowers grow."
— The message of Eilistraee to all decent drow.
"Run thy sword across my chains, Silver Lady, that I may join your dance.”
Tuu'Saayn wiggles his thin frame into the crowded chamber. Only his training is keeping him under controll. The fiasco with the lock, the blood bath in the market, and now a pile of evidence leading to a dead end have taken their toll on his nerves. His fists clench and release with his breath, for the moment he manages to keep a lid on the simmering anger that he feels. Anger at a corrupt government, anger at the inventor of the lock, anger at his own ineptitude, and the gut wrenching feeling that people have been taken and he has done nothing useful to help them. For the moment he remains silent, fearful that his words will drip with venom and do little good to the party.
***OoC: he is at a loss. He was convinced that getting past the gate would make the train wreck in the market easier to take. His guilt and anger are making it hard for him to think clearly. He just wants something to punch.***
Gus doesn't even wait for Gryn to finish the sentence. The words "blue crystal" and "doesn’t belong" are barely out of the dwarf’s mouth before the gnome is already halfway across the chamber.
“Don’t belong?”Gus echoes, eyes wide with delight. “That’s practically an invitation!”
He leans in close to the glowing crystal embedded in the stone. His nose nearly brushes the surface, and he mutters to himself like a librarian consulting a very uncooperative scroll.
“Ohoho... what are you, my pretty blue anomaly?” he whispers, squinting at the glow with a mixture of suspicion and glee. “Not a lantern."
He tilts his head and narrows one eye, the light from the crystal casting eerie reflections in his goggles.
“Don’t you go hiding your secrets,”he murmurs, his voice quiet but eyes alight with focused curiosity. “We’re past first impressions.”
He gently touches the tip of one gloved finger to the air just next to the crystal’s edge, close enough to feel any vibration or magic field, but not so close as to accidentally explode.
Behind him, muffled footsteps signal Tuu’Saayn entering the chamber, but Gus doesn’t turn.
Then, almost lovingly: “Talk to me, mysterious wall candy…”
To reach the crystal, Gus has to stand on the very edge of the well, and reach across it on tiptoe.
In the flickering lantern light, he notices how the bare rock has been drilled and the hole packed with what appears to be lead, to hold the crystal safely in place - whatever it is, it has been fixed with particular care.
Similar to the cheap candlestones used in the richest market stalls, it provides just enough light for someone to fill their buckets at the well - but there is something more, some magic in that light itself, set there to shine upon the water. That light that almost hurts the eyes, seen this close.
Of course! It's a purifying stone - set there to keep the water free of mould, and discourage anything from living in it. This one looks of Dwarvish make, though many folk use such things. Got to be worth some coin, if you could prise it out without breaking it - assuming you knew a local fence, of course, preferably one who didn't drink water.
"Gryn, can you tell if there is any plague or other disease present in this water?" Tuu'Saayn asks. This can't be a dead end he thinks, still drawing level and measured breaths. Calm your mind he reminds himself. Persevere, the truth is there, just be still and seek it out.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
“Let him not vow to walk in the dark, who has not seen the nightfall.” — Elrond
Gryn will dip his cupped hand in the water and raise it a few feet above the surface before letting it fall back to the surface so he can examine it better, then he will take a smaller amount in his cupped hand and take a little sip to test what it tastes like.
He will cast Guidance on himself to aid his senses of sight and taste.
Perception: 19
"I can't be sure but let me have a look and a little taste."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
"A rightful place awaits you in the Realms Above, in the Land of the Great Light. Come in peace, and live beneath the sun again, where trees and flowers grow."
— The message of Eilistraee to all decent drow.
"Run thy sword across my chains, Silver Lady, that I may join your dance.”
The water is clear and cold, with no perceptible smell. The taste is almost unnaturally neutral - it tastes of nothing: This is strange, because it has clearly run through and over rocks to get here, but no trace of minerals or salts pollutes it.
The only other time Grynn has tasted water this pure has been in a ceremony to create holy water - where a spell is used as part of the purification.
Gryn gives his hand a flick and then wipes it on his clothes to help dry it off.
"It's some of the cleanest I've ever tasted."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
"A rightful place awaits you in the Realms Above, in the Land of the Great Light. Come in peace, and live beneath the sun again, where trees and flowers grow."
— The message of Eilistraee to all decent drow.
"Run thy sword across my chains, Silver Lady, that I may join your dance.”
Gus, still perched precariously on his toes, hears Gryn’s remark about the taste, the purity, and Gus freezes mid-study, his whole body going still except for one gloved finger tapping thoughtfully against his chin.
He doesn’t look back, just mutters with a quiet urgency, “Of course it tastes like nothing. That’s the whole point.”
“You see that? That’s not just some magic rock some fool slapped in for ambience.” He taps the edge of the wall with a knuckle. “Lead-packed socket. Drilled deep. Dwarvish make, if I had to guess. This wasn’t done in a hurry—this was set with purpose. That crystal isn’t just a light… it’s a purifying stone.”
He finally glances over his shoulder, speaking now to the whole group, voice still low but charged with discovery.
“Someone, fixed it here to keep the water clean. Pristine. Clear enough for spellwork, maybe even rituals. Certainly not meant for common use unless you’re rich, religious, or very paranoid.”
He slides down off the well’s edge with a soft thud, dusting off his gloves.
“Someone, fixed it here to keep the water clean. Pristine. Clear enough for spellwork, maybe even rituals. Certainly not meant for common use unless you’re rich, religious, or very paranoid.”
And yet, there it was - how rich must the Citadel above be, for such treasures to be so common? You had all seen the great towers and walls rising in the distance as the cart trundled over the weary plains, the setting sun making the stonework appear to glow.
'If you don't fly, they don't want to see you in the Radiant Citadel' was the legend - and the way the road reached only as far as the Night Market certainly made that seem likely - so perhaps the rumours of unimaginable wealth were not so exaggerated, after all.
Tuu'Saayn listens intently to the party as they investigate the well and glowing stone. His agitation began to wane, replaced by curiosity and a growing respect for his companions. Where he was weak, they were strong. He silently vowed to rise above and learn from his experience with the lock. He would make his weakness a strength. He was beginning to understand the dynamics of this group, seemingly fueled by chaos and unanswered questions, yet each skilled and knowledgeable in a unique way.
He pondered these things as he absent mindedly emptied his waterskin down the drain. He refilled it from the well.
"Would it be worth a look beneath the grate? Bodies dont just vanish. And it seems we have more questions than answers."
If the group tries to lift the grate or investigate further Tuu'Saayn offers to keep an eye on the gate. He slips quietly up the stairs and settles into the shadows. A dagger seems to simply materialize in his hand. He watches the area beyond the gate for anyone heading their way.
Stealth: 18
Perception: 10 (luck point)
***OoC kinda: to this point in his life Tuu'Saayn has only experienced his "lucky" nature in defensive situations; an unknown talent that manifested in the most dire of situations. With his commitment to getting better, he dug deep and unknowingly summoned this feat on watch. First roll 7 he felt his focus leaning too heavily into stealth so he reset and focused on the watch.
***OoC totally: forgot about the luck feat or I would have used it on the GD lock :) Gus is totally off the hook for the tools lol
If the group tries to lift the grate or investigate further Tuu'Saayn offers to keep an eye on the gate. He slips quietly up the stairs and settles into the shadows. A dagger seems to simply materialize in his hand. He watches the area beyond the gate for anyone heading their way.
Watching and waiting, in the shadows beside the gate, Tuu'Saayn sees no sign of Torm, who must be patrolling the road somewhere
After a minute, a figure emerges from the market - broad shouldered and carrying a pair of large buckets joined by a wooden yoke - they don't see the hidden monk, and stride confidently toward the tunnel and the staircase...
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
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A single casting (1 minute) could straighten the top bolt, another could repair the damaged bottom padlock (if you make a roll [Perception, 15+ ] to find the missing part on the ground!)
The torn hinge is beyond the power of the spell, though it might be hammered back into place, given enough brute force [Strength, 15+]
[Gus has proficiency and a +4 in his thieves tools? Maybe next time.]
(ooc: the crowbar offers advantage so that's why I rolled with advantage, and although it's easier to pick a lock than an hinge... due to locks being construction to keep things closed and hinges being constructed to allow things to swing open or shut... the hinges would of been easier to open with a crowbar.)
(but all that aside I have no problem with Tuu' Saayn offering advise to Gryn to focus on the locks instead or the DM overriding flavor, story, or roleplay to say that Gryn attacked the other lock instead of the hinges... it is PbP after all and we're all here for a good time, I don't want anyone feeling like my character is just trying to grief the party.)
Gryn lights his hooded lantern and starts into the passage and down the stairs, "Hopefully the Watch won't discover what we've done for a while since they were all drawn away to the other side of town and the market vendors who hardly seem to notice or care about people right next to them disappearing also might not discover, or care, that we've broken in here since it's a ways from the market."
Leading the way and providing light Gryn adds, "But let's make haste just in case."
[Alas, no: The crowbar doesn't give you advantage here - it lets you make the attempt at all. Not many halflings can do structural damage with their bare hands! You could have achieved advantage by getting one of the party to add some weight, but never mind, we keep moving.]
Striking a spark into his lamp, Gryn follows the spiral stair down - only about ten feet, so the ceiling of the chamber it opens to would be about the same level as the roadway.
The chamber appears empty: A strange blue glow comes from a crystal half way up the wall on the far side, water trickles from the ceiling down the wall and collects in a raised well, with an overflow drain to one side - similar to the ones in the market, the drain is covered by a stone slab, about two and a half feet square, with bronze handles recessed into the top.
The floor is wet in places, presumably where buckets have been spilled while topping up.
Gus steps up to the thoroughly abused and technically defeated gate, eyebrows raised and expression somewhere between admiration and gentle horror.
Then, with a flick of his wrist and a whispered word, he draws out a sliver of magical thread from his sleeve. Holding it taut between his thumbs, he hums a strangely soothing melody under his breath, a cross between a lullaby and a tavern waltz, as he begins to cast Mending.
The magical thread pulses once, then winds through the air and settles along the warped top bolt. With a soft click, the top bolt straightens.
His attention then turns to the mangled padlock. “Alright, sweetheart, your turn.” He crouches beside it, starting the same gentle incantation, only to pause. A sudden frown.
“…missing piece.” He sniffs at it, as though expecting the answer to rise from the metal like steam. “Where’s your little—oh.” He glances about, scanning the dirt and cobblestone. “Nope. Nothing.”
He sighs, squinting back at the gate, still ugly.
“Good enough.”
Then, without another word, he breaks into a trot to follow after Gryn.
Tuu'Saayn feels like the weight of the world has been lifted from his shoulders when the last lock breaks free. He still hasn't forgotten his failure to get the job done, but the deed was done. Perhaps there is something to this teamwork thing.. he muses silently.
When the party passes the gate he pauses with Gus to make aome attempt to cover their trail of twisted metal and regret. He quietly pockets one of the broken locks, thinking it could come in handy later, and there would be one less thing to try and repair.
He gives Gryn a thankful pat on the shoulder as he moves by, and flashes a grin at Gus. "Maybe next time we can battle the demon spawned hell lock together. I'll spend the next 3-5 years practicing if we get caught doing this... maybe even build a muscle or two doing jail cell exercises. "
When the gate is "fixed" or patched up enough to not draw notice from two miles away, he offers to scout ahead a little ways (40-50 ft ahead) if there is another exit or way down farther.
Stealth 16. Perception 18
“Let him not vow to walk in the dark, who has not seen the nightfall.” — Elrond
By the time Tuu'Saayn joins Gryn and Gus, the six-by-six chamber with the well is starting to feel... crowded.
It might have been possible to carry three bodies down those stairs, but it wouldn't have been easy - especially if the washerwoman had been as solidly built as her friend.
The rough stone walls leave no possibility of mundane secret doors, and while the drain cover might technically be an exit, it looks as heavy as the other one.
Other than the strange, faint blue light from the crystal set in the far wall, it looks like a perfectly ordinary well.
"What do you make of that blue crystal?"
Gryn points to the blue crystal.
"I don't think that blue crystal belongs there."
Tuu'Saayn wiggles his thin frame into the crowded chamber. Only his training is keeping him under controll. The fiasco with the lock, the blood bath in the market, and now a pile of evidence leading to a dead end have taken their toll on his nerves. His fists clench and release with his breath, for the moment he manages to keep a lid on the simmering anger that he feels. Anger at a corrupt government, anger at the inventor of the lock, anger at his own ineptitude, and the gut wrenching feeling that people have been taken and he has done nothing useful to help them. For the moment he remains silent, fearful that his words will drip with venom and do little good to the party.
***OoC: he is at a loss. He was convinced that getting past the gate would make the train wreck in the market easier to take. His guilt and anger are making it hard for him to think clearly. He just wants something to punch.***
“Let him not vow to walk in the dark, who has not seen the nightfall.” — Elrond
Gus doesn't even wait for Gryn to finish the sentence. The words "blue crystal" and "doesn’t belong" are barely out of the dwarf’s mouth before the gnome is already halfway across the chamber.
“Don’t belong?” Gus echoes, eyes wide with delight. “That’s practically an invitation!”
He leans in close to the glowing crystal embedded in the stone. His nose nearly brushes the surface, and he mutters to himself like a librarian consulting a very uncooperative scroll.
“Ohoho... what are you, my pretty blue anomaly?” he whispers, squinting at the glow with a mixture of suspicion and glee. “Not a lantern."
He tilts his head and narrows one eye, the light from the crystal casting eerie reflections in his goggles.
“Don’t you go hiding your secrets,” he murmurs, his voice quiet but eyes alight with focused curiosity. “We’re past first impressions.”
He gently touches the tip of one gloved finger to the air just next to the crystal’s edge, close enough to feel any vibration or magic field, but not so close as to accidentally explode.
Behind him, muffled footsteps signal Tuu’Saayn entering the chamber, but Gus doesn’t turn.
Then, almost lovingly:
“Talk to me, mysterious wall candy…”
Arcana check: 15
To reach the crystal, Gus has to stand on the very edge of the well, and reach across it on tiptoe.
In the flickering lantern light, he notices how the bare rock has been drilled and the hole packed with what appears to be lead, to hold the crystal safely in place - whatever it is, it has been fixed with particular care.
Similar to the cheap candlestones used in the richest market stalls, it provides just enough light for someone to fill their buckets at the well - but there is something more, some magic in that light itself, set there to shine upon the water. That light that almost hurts the eyes, seen this close.
Of course! It's a purifying stone - set there to keep the water free of mould, and discourage anything from living in it. This one looks of Dwarvish make, though many folk use such things. Got to be worth some coin, if you could prise it out without breaking it - assuming you knew a local fence, of course, preferably one who didn't drink water.
"Gryn, can you tell if there is any plague or other disease present in this water?" Tuu'Saayn asks. This can't be a dead end he thinks, still drawing level and measured breaths. Calm your mind he reminds himself. Persevere, the truth is there, just be still and seek it out.
“Let him not vow to walk in the dark, who has not seen the nightfall.” — Elrond
Gryn will dip his cupped hand in the water and raise it a few feet above the surface before letting it fall back to the surface so he can examine it better, then he will take a smaller amount in his cupped hand and take a little sip to test what it tastes like.
He will cast Guidance on himself to aid his senses of sight and taste.
Perception: 19
"I can't be sure but let me have a look and a little taste."
The water is clear and cold, with no perceptible smell. The taste is almost unnaturally neutral - it tastes of nothing: This is strange, because it has clearly run through and over rocks to get here, but no trace of minerals or salts pollutes it.
The only other time Grynn has tasted water this pure has been in a ceremony to create holy water - where a spell is used as part of the purification.
"This water is... clean."
Gryn gives his hand a flick and then wipes it on his clothes to help dry it off.
"It's some of the cleanest I've ever tasted."
Gus, still perched precariously on his toes, hears Gryn’s remark about the taste, the purity, and Gus freezes mid-study, his whole body going still except for one gloved finger tapping thoughtfully against his chin.
He doesn’t look back, just mutters with a quiet urgency, “Of course it tastes like nothing. That’s the whole point.”
“You see that? That’s not just some magic rock some fool slapped in for ambience.” He taps the edge of the wall with a knuckle. “Lead-packed socket. Drilled deep. Dwarvish make, if I had to guess. This wasn’t done in a hurry—this was set with purpose. That crystal isn’t just a light… it’s a purifying stone.”
He finally glances over his shoulder, speaking now to the whole group, voice still low but charged with discovery.
“Someone, fixed it here to keep the water clean. Pristine. Clear enough for spellwork, maybe even rituals. Certainly not meant for common use unless you’re rich, religious, or very paranoid.”
He slides down off the well’s edge with a soft thud, dusting off his gloves.
And yet, there it was - how rich must the Citadel above be, for such treasures to be so common? You had all seen the great towers and walls rising in the distance as the cart trundled over the weary plains, the setting sun making the stonework appear to glow.
'If you don't fly, they don't want to see you in the Radiant Citadel' was the legend - and the way the road reached only as far as the Night Market certainly made that seem likely - so perhaps the rumours of unimaginable wealth were not so exaggerated, after all.
Torm works his way into the overcrowded chamber, chainmail clinks echoing of the damp stone walls as he moves.
"Amazing," he mutters as Gryn tests the waters. "I wonder just how pure this water is? To the point of holiness?"
Torm inspects the water as well, searching for a sense of any radiant or holy properties.
Religion: 5
Tuu'Saayn listens intently to the party as they investigate the well and glowing stone. His agitation began to wane, replaced by curiosity and a growing respect for his companions. Where he was weak, they were strong. He silently vowed to rise above and learn from his experience with the lock. He would make his weakness a strength. He was beginning to understand the dynamics of this group, seemingly fueled by chaos and unanswered questions, yet each skilled and knowledgeable in a unique way.
He pondered these things as he absent mindedly emptied his waterskin down the drain. He refilled it from the well.
"Would it be worth a look beneath the grate? Bodies dont just vanish. And it seems we have more questions than answers."
If the group tries to lift the grate or investigate further Tuu'Saayn offers to keep an eye on the gate. He slips quietly up the stairs and settles into the shadows. A dagger seems to simply materialize in his hand. He watches the area beyond the gate for anyone heading their way.
Stealth: 18
Perception: 10 (luck point)
***OoC kinda: to this point in his life Tuu'Saayn has only experienced his "lucky" nature in defensive situations; an unknown talent that manifested in the most dire of situations. With his commitment to getting better, he dug deep and unknowingly summoned this feat on watch. First roll 7 he felt his focus leaning too heavily into stealth so he reset and focused on the watch.
***OoC totally: forgot about the luck feat or I would have used it on the GD lock :) Gus is totally off the hook for the tools lol
“Let him not vow to walk in the dark, who has not seen the nightfall.” — Elrond
6
Watching and waiting, in the shadows beside the gate, Tuu'Saayn sees no sign of Torm, who must be patrolling the road somewhere
After a minute, a figure emerges from the market - broad shouldered and carrying a pair of large buckets joined by a wooden yoke - they don't see the hidden monk, and stride confidently toward the tunnel and the staircase...