"Elya, you should really take the cloak. You're always taking a beating for us, you should have a little something that'll give you a bit of protection."
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Xenophon: Topaz Dragonborn Fighter (ixi's Dragon of Icespire Peak)
"I haven't been injured seriously yet. Anborn, you nearly died because of my recklessness, and Orilo was afflicted by something from those undead. I'm grateful you're both still here, and I think one of you need to take the cloak."
Elya continues to refuse to take the cloak, pushing it away if anyone tries to give it to her. She pushes gently, but with more force if it continues.
Anborn will stop trying to give her the cloak and accept it. "Ok. But don't blame yourself for me getting hurt. There were plenty of factors that went into me losing consciousness."
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Xenophon: Topaz Dragonborn Fighter (ixi's Dragon of Icespire Peak)
Orilo stops absent-mindedly rolling his shoulder to stare at Elya for a moment, and then reaches out... to take the hand holding the cloak, pushing it back towards her. "Don't get cocky, welp."He states dryly. "You are tough. I give that. But we all have limits."Orilo lets goes to start hammering his shoulder. "'sides-..." Orilo pauses, then motions Elya in close. "Look better on you." The start of a barking laugh is interrupted by a small coughing fit midway through.
A hand is curtly raised the moment anyone starts showing concern. Elya is shot one last pointed look until she puts on the cloak or passes it off to someone else. Either way, so long as it found a home that wasn't him, the man wouldn't press the point. "I'm ready now, Dire Halfling."Another though more short lived chuckle escapes the giant as he rose to take point again, leading the group back past the stairs to the unexplored route in answer once all have gotten what they wished out of the chest.
The ghostly chant emanates from this room. You guys can discern a dozen or so voices saying, over and over, “He is the Ancient. He is the Land.” There are many ritual items littered around this area:
A small, mummified, yellow hand with sharp claws (a goblin’s hand) on a loop of rope, a knife carved from a human bone, a dagger with a rat’s skull set into the pommel, an 8-inch-diameter varnished orb made from a nothic’s eye, an aspergillum carved from bone, a folded cloak made from stitched ghoul skin, a desiccated frog lashed to a stick, a bag full of bat guano, a hag’s severed finger, a 6-inch-tall wooden figurine of a mummy, its arms crossed over its chest, an iron pendant adorned with a devil’s face, the shrunken, shriveled head of a halfling, a small wooden coffer containing a dire wolf’s withered tongue, and a piece of paper that looks like an ad - that reads:
"Meal Deal At MacCabee's - Do you love the rich taste of the MacCataur burger? How about the crunch of a flavoursome underdark mushroom? Well, why not have both? This week only, buy a MacCataur and get a free side of deep fried underdark mushrooms! MacCabee's: Where Flavor Is Critical!"
The southernmost tunnel slopes down at a 20-degree angle into murky water and ends at a rusty portcullis
Anborn makes a disgusted face at the assorted items in the room. He pauses for a second when he sees the ad for MacCabee's. "Well, I guess that twisted, evil bastards have to eat too. Heh, maybe we can get a bite to eat there once we're done with this. Anyway, I suppose that we should be getting on with it so that we can leave."
And before the group heads off, Anborn whispers a prayer to Torm. "Please protect Elya, who is either too masochistic or too busy engaging in flagellation to give a damn about herself." And she is suddenly protected by an invisible Shield of Faith.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Orilo stops his puzzling over the many innocent souls that were mislead by such a diabolic ad long enough to notice the others efforts. "I will take crack at it."He states as he steps up to the gates, sizes it up, takes one last deep breathe, and... steps aside to give Elya room to help him with little more than a sardonic chuckle. "On Three.... One... Two... Hrrrk!"
Something pops in the giant's back... there's an "Oh no"from him, and then.... he falls back. Thankfully, there are pained groans that follow the fall, so he is at least still conscious. But he stays down as the gods have demanded as payment for hubris.
The chanting stops as you enter into this forty-foot-square room. The smooth masonry walls provide excellent acoustics. Featureless stone pillars support the ceiling, and a breach in the west wall leads to a dark cave heaped with refuse. Murky water covers most of the floor. Stairs lead up to dry stone ledges that hug the walls. In the middle of the room, more stairs rise to form an octagonal dais that also rises above the water. Rusty chains with shackles dangle from the ceiling directly above a stone altar mounted on the dais. The altar is carved with hideous depictions of grasping ghouls and is stained with dry blood.
The water is 2 feet deep. The ledges and central dais are 5 feet high (3 feet higher than the water’s surface), and the chamber’s ceiling is 16 feet high (11 feet above the dais and ledges). The chains dangling from the ceiling are 8 feet long.
Half embedded in the east wall is a wooden wheel connected to hidden chains and mechanisms.
The hole in the west wall leads to a naturally formed alcove. There is a half-submerged pile of refuse that fills it.
"Thanks Ledanra. We couldn't have done it without you." Anborn says, feeling a little embarrassed that the smaller sorceress was able to succeed where he couldn't. "This must be the room where they sacrificed people. We just have to deal with whatever is in here and then we can move past this hell hole and Barovia."
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Xenophon: Topaz Dragonborn Fighter (ixi's Dragon of Icespire Peak)
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Winter might not have put her all into helping Corrin lift the gate (she wasn't all that strong in the first place, but the strongest of the group proved to be not so, then again the gate was awful heavy...), she managed showed slight appreciation towards Ledanra who had used her wit to lift it for them. The rogue wasn't all too pleased about the water, but once her eyes found the dais she slowly trudged her way to it and clambered right on top.
With her slight advantage point she decides to take a better look around.
Perception: 12
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Aeydof the Dragons || Wood Elf / Way of the Ascendant Dragon Monk Demetrios Zalaoras || Protector Aasimar / Paladin of Torm Hawke || Kalashtar / Circle of the Moon Druid Morticia || Half-Aasimar Rogue Yvan || Goliath / Path of the Wild Soul Barbarian | Paladin of Helm /ᐠ。ꞈ。ᐟ\
As Winter climbs up the dais, the chanting rises once more as thirteen dark apparitions appear on the ledges overlooking the room. Each one resembles a black-robed figure holding a torch, but the torch’s fire is black and seems to draw light into it. Where you’d expect to see faces are voids.
“One must die!” they chant, over and over. “One must die! One must die!”
As Elya roars at the figures, she casts shape water, drawing water from the moat and moving it around the room and through the figures, not to hurt them, just to make them soggy, or disperse them if they were shades.
"Of that -- Gah… Mmph… We're in agreement."Orilo says stepping up next to Anborn while still pressing a hand into his back. For some much added emphasis to go the words, he musters the strength to take out one of his daggers and whips it at one of the nearby figures.
Attack: 14 Damage: 5
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When you realize you're doing too much: Signature.
"Elya, you should really take the cloak. You're always taking a beating for us, you should have a little something that'll give you a bit of protection."
Xenophon: Topaz Dragonborn Fighter (ixi's Dragon of Icespire Peak)
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"I haven't been injured seriously yet. Anborn, you nearly died because of my recklessness, and Orilo was afflicted by something from those undead. I'm grateful you're both still here, and I think one of you need to take the cloak."
Elya continues to refuse to take the cloak, pushing it away if anyone tries to give it to her. She pushes gently, but with more force if it continues.
Corrin looks to Orilo, “Do you sense more?” The halfling draws a blade in each hand, waiting to see what next this horrid house can throw at them.
Corrin Kettlewhistle: Halfling Life Cleric (Curse of Strahd)
Kip Dalton: Human Lore Bard (Waterdeep Dragon Heist)
Debauchery Dalliance: Half-Drow Oath of Conquest Paladin (White Plume Mountain)
Anborn will stop trying to give her the cloak and accept it. "Ok. But don't blame yourself for me getting hurt. There were plenty of factors that went into me losing consciousness."
Xenophon: Topaz Dragonborn Fighter (ixi's Dragon of Icespire Peak)
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Orilo stops absent-mindedly rolling his shoulder to stare at Elya for a moment, and then reaches out... to take the hand holding the cloak, pushing it back towards her. "Don't get cocky, welp." He states dryly. "You are tough. I give that. But we all have limits." Orilo lets goes to start hammering his shoulder. "'sides-..." Orilo pauses, then motions Elya in close. "Look better on you." The start of a barking laugh is interrupted by a small coughing fit midway through.
A hand is curtly raised the moment anyone starts showing concern. Elya is shot one last pointed look until she puts on the cloak or passes it off to someone else. Either way, so long as it found a home that wasn't him, the man wouldn't press the point. "I'm ready now, Dire Halfling." Another though more short lived chuckle escapes the giant as he rose to take point again, leading the group back past the stairs to the unexplored route in answer once all have gotten what they wished out of the chest.
Unless more undead is sensed along the way.
When you realize you're doing too much: Signature.
The ghostly chant emanates from this room. You guys can discern a dozen or so voices saying, over and over, “He is the Ancient. He is the Land.” There are many ritual items littered around this area:
A small, mummified, yellow hand with sharp claws (a goblin’s hand) on a loop of rope, a knife carved from a human bone, a dagger with a rat’s skull set into the pommel, an 8-inch-diameter varnished orb made from a nothic’s eye, an aspergillum carved from bone, a folded cloak made from stitched ghoul skin, a desiccated frog lashed to a stick, a bag full of bat guano, a hag’s severed finger, a 6-inch-tall wooden figurine of a mummy, its arms crossed over its chest, an iron pendant adorned with a devil’s face, the shrunken, shriveled head of a halfling, a small wooden coffer containing a dire wolf’s withered tongue, and a piece of paper that looks like an ad - that reads:
"Meal Deal At MacCabee's - Do you love the rich taste of the MacCataur burger? How about the crunch of a flavoursome underdark mushroom? Well, why not have both? This week only, buy a MacCataur and get a free side of deep fried underdark mushrooms! MacCabee's: Where Flavor Is Critical!"
The southernmost tunnel slopes down at a 20-degree angle into murky water and ends at a rusty portcullis
Anborn makes a disgusted face at the assorted items in the room. He pauses for a second when he sees the ad for MacCabee's. "Well, I guess that twisted, evil bastards have to eat too. Heh, maybe we can get a bite to eat there once we're done with this. Anyway, I suppose that we should be getting on with it so that we can leave."
And before the group heads off, Anborn whispers a prayer to Torm. "Please protect Elya, who is either too masochistic or too busy engaging in flagellation to give a damn about herself." And she is suddenly protected by an invisible Shield of Faith.
Xenophon: Topaz Dragonborn Fighter (ixi's Dragon of Icespire Peak)
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Oreo, the undead presence you've been detecting has disappeared with the death of Gustav and Elisabeth - forgot to tell you.
Anborn will accept a boost from Elya and attempt to lift the portcullis.
Athletics:14
Xenophon: Topaz Dragonborn Fighter (ixi's Dragon of Icespire Peak)
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Orilo stops his puzzling over the many innocent souls that were mislead by such a diabolic ad long enough to notice the others efforts. "I will take crack at it." He states as he steps up to the gates, sizes it up, takes one last deep breathe, and... steps aside to give Elya room to help him with little more than a sardonic chuckle. "On Three.... One... Two... Hrrrk!"
Athletics: 6.
Something pops in the giant's back... there's an "Oh no" from him, and then.... he falls back. Thankfully, there are pained groans that follow the fall, so he is at least still conscious. But he stays down as the gods have demanded as payment for hubris.
When you realize you're doing too much: Signature.
Oblivious as always to challenge at hand and undeterred by the looks the others give him, Corrin decides to try his hand at lifting the gate.
Athletics: 14 17
Corrin Kettlewhistle: Halfling Life Cleric (Curse of Strahd)
Kip Dalton: Human Lore Bard (Waterdeep Dragon Heist)
Debauchery Dalliance: Half-Drow Oath of Conquest Paladin (White Plume Mountain)
THE RITUAL CHAMBER
The chanting stops as you enter into this forty-foot-square room. The smooth masonry walls provide excellent acoustics. Featureless stone pillars support the ceiling, and a breach in the west wall leads to a dark cave heaped with refuse. Murky water covers most of the floor. Stairs lead up to dry stone ledges that hug the walls. In the middle of the room, more stairs rise to form an octagonal dais that also rises above the water. Rusty chains with shackles dangle from the ceiling directly above a stone altar mounted on the dais. The altar is carved with hideous depictions of grasping ghouls and is stained with dry blood.
The water is 2 feet deep. The ledges and central dais are 5 feet high (3 feet higher than the water’s surface), and the chamber’s ceiling is 16 feet high (11 feet above the dais and ledges). The chains dangling from the ceiling are 8 feet long.
Half embedded in the east wall is a wooden wheel connected to hidden chains and mechanisms.
The hole in the west wall leads to a naturally formed alcove. There is a half-submerged pile of refuse that fills it.
"Thanks Ledanra. We couldn't have done it without you." Anborn says, feeling a little embarrassed that the smaller sorceress was able to succeed where he couldn't. "This must be the room where they sacrificed people. We just have to deal with whatever is in here and then we can move past this hell hole and Barovia."
Xenophon: Topaz Dragonborn Fighter (ixi's Dragon of Icespire Peak)
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Winter might not have put her all into helping Corrin lift the gate (she wasn't all that strong in the first place, but the strongest of the group proved to be not so, then again the gate was awful heavy...), she managed showed slight appreciation towards Ledanra who had used her wit to lift it for them. The rogue wasn't all too pleased about the water, but once her eyes found the dais she slowly trudged her way to it and clambered right on top.
With her slight advantage point she decides to take a better look around.
Perception: 12
Aeyd of the Dragons || Wood Elf / Way of the Ascendant Dragon Monk
Demetrios Zalaoras || Protector Aasimar / Paladin of Torm
Hawke || Kalashtar / Circle of the Moon Druid
Morticia || Half-Aasimar Rogue
Yvan || Goliath / Path of the Wild Soul Barbarian | Paladin of Helm
/ᐠ。ꞈ。ᐟ\
ONE MUST DIE
As Winter climbs up the dais, the chanting rises once more as thirteen dark apparitions appear on the ledges overlooking the room. Each one resembles a black-robed figure holding a torch, but the torch’s fire is black and seems to draw light into it. Where you’d expect to see faces are voids.
“One must die!” they chant, over and over. “One must die! One must die!”
Anborn lifts a middle finger on each hand. "Oh, shut it."
Xenophon: Topaz Dragonborn Fighter (ixi's Dragon of Icespire Peak)
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"None of us are dying here!"
As Elya roars at the figures, she casts shape water, drawing water from the moat and moving it around the room and through the figures, not to hurt them, just to make them soggy, or disperse them if they were shades.
"Of that -- Gah… Mmph… We're in agreement." Orilo says stepping up next to Anborn while still pressing a hand into his back. For some much added emphasis to go the words, he musters the strength to take out one of his daggers and whips it at one of the nearby figures.
Attack: 14 Damage: 5
When you realize you're doing too much: Signature.
The cultists appear to be illusions. Your weapons and spells go through them.
It appears they want a sacrifice. The chanting continues. Do you chose someone to die, or refuse?
"At least we agree on something." And at that Anborn tosses a Sacred Flame at the figures.
DC13 Dex Save or take 4 Radiant damage.
Xenophon: Topaz Dragonborn Fighter (ixi's Dragon of Icespire Peak)
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