Piker stares at the Dwarven Axe beneath him as Blackbird's curse echoes in the chamber. He glances up just in time to see the larger warrior pluck a dart from his shoulder. Piker shakes his head and wonders if Blackbird's course of bad luck will eventually run its course.
"Look at this," Piker says as he reaches down into the chest and retrieves the Dwarven War Axe. He grunts against the weight of it and struggles to bring it up. The axe is deceptively heavy.
Piker bring the axe to his shoulder, wields it with both hands, and takes a practice swing. The heavy weight of the axe makes it's inertia hard to stop and Piker staggers off balance as the blade strikes a nearby wall.
He sighs and puts the axe down.
"Although I could wield it, I think this was designed for someone a tad more robust than myself. Is anyone else interested?"
Piker reaches into the box and retrieves the 40 gold pieces and places them in his pack, thinking this is the biggest score he's had since working a higher end brothel in the outskirts of a human capital miles east of here. He wonders if he'll make it out of the crypt to get a chance to spend that gold.
Watching Morcant stumble against a door and watching Blackbird rub his shoulder, he wonders if anybody will make it out of this infernal tomb.
"Perhaps we should check out that side passage," Piker says, "Assuming no one here can disarm that trap."
(OOC: Successful Action Piker, please add the gold to your Character Sheet!)
Morcant stumbled into the new room rather clumsily. He glanced up, lifting his candle and searched the room for any auras within. In the background he heard more sounds of ineptitude from his fellow party members.
He knew that his best chance at survival required his sharpness and their improvement. With that thought he put his hands to his throwing daggers and fire manipulation.
Edging into the doorway darkness invaded his sight and cut off his ability to discern wall from floor or ceiling. It was darker than the blackest pitch of a shipyard. The blackness began to swirl and mute the colors of other auras entering the passageway - which indicated to Morcant that it too was an aura - and not mere darkness.
And a dark aura of that nature could only be remnant of some dark and foreboding spirit who long ago stained these walls with their very own dark aura.
Continuing around the corner - and focusing hard to see through the aura to the reality of the space surrounding him - Morcant discerned that the passage ended as a very short and narrow hallway a few steps ahead.
Ptolmek glanced at the axe and with raised eyebrow wondered if the solid weapon might be magical as well. He shrugged - if Piker neglected the weapon - he might try it's heft.
"I don't see any of the other fighters we came in with. For now I would be glad to carry this weapon as a back-up. Perhaps we can sell it back at town as part of the group loot. I am not carrying much else."
"Piker, I found this on the wall," handing the tapestry to the gnome. "Does it mean anything to you?"
Moving toward the newly opened door, Ptolmek continues to speak to the party aloud "One more thing occurs to me," in his gravelly voice, "I do not know much about chests and locks or anything of that nature.
But did not that Iron Chest seem.... far too easy for our companion to open?" He shrugs, "Maybe someone more adept could check the base walls and lid for any secret compartments?"
"Hmmm... you've got a solid point Ptolmek, ol' pal..." he says rubbing at the swelling lump where the irritating poison was taking root. It seemed impotent, or at best only a minor irritant - but the knot forming certainly stung to the touch.
Blackbird moved back to the chest to continue exploring it's contents in the hopes a hidden compartment would be revealed.
'What luck! Not only do I miss a prize Axe and pile of gold in my haste... but I get a jab in the arm for my trouble... Well that all ends now! Ptolmek might be bright enough to think of the compartment, but it shall be I who uncovers the bounty!' Blackbird thinks to himself.
(OOC: Failed Action Blackbird, your Search Skill is not proficient enough to attempt locating such specific items. Stick to broad and general searching at this point. As a result...)
During his rubbing, tugging, and tapping Blackbird did not find a single hidden compartment. Just as he was about to give up and join the others in the side hallway, he did create a hollow noise near the base of the chest. Getting down on his belly to look more closely - he was thrilled - and uttered a small giggle of excitement!
At the base of the chest a thin wooden panel could be seen. Pressing the panel it popped out of place and fell slightly. Blackbird pulled the wooden shim away and...
Suddenly a hiss and a jet of air filled his face. The gas chocked his throat and filled his eyes with tears. It would appear the trap on the chest was either defective, or too old to work properly.
The same could be said for the gas which appeared to be less potent than likely intended.
'What luck' indeed, Blackbird.
"Look at this," Piker says as he reaches down into the chest and retrieves the Dwarven War Axe. He grunts against the weight of it and struggles to bring it up. The axe is deceptively heavy.
Piker bring the axe to his shoulder, wields it with both hands, and takes a practice swing. The heavy weight of the axe makes it's inertia hard to stop and Piker staggers off balance as the blade strikes a nearby wall.
He sighs and puts the axe down.
"Although I could wield it, I think this was designed for someone a tad more robust than myself. Is anyone else interested?"
Piker reaches into the box and retrieves the 40 gold pieces and places them in his pack, thinking this is the biggest score he's had since working a higher end brothel in the outskirts of a human capital miles east of here. He wonders if he'll make it out of the crypt to get a chance to spend that gold.
Watching Morcant stumble against a door and watching Blackbird rub his shoulder, he wonders if anybody will make it out of this infernal tomb.
"Perhaps we should check out that side passage," Piker says, "Assuming no one here can disarm that trap."
(OOC: Successful Action Piker, please add the gold to your Character Sheet!)
Morcant stumbled into the new room rather clumsily. He glanced up, lifting his candle and searched the room for any auras within. In the background he heard more sounds of ineptitude from his fellow party members.
He knew that his best chance at survival required his sharpness and their improvement. With that thought he put his hands to his throwing daggers and fire manipulation.
Edging into the doorway darkness invaded his sight and cut off his ability to discern wall from floor or ceiling. It was darker than the blackest pitch of a shipyard. The blackness began to swirl and mute the colors of other auras entering the passageway - which indicated to Morcant that it too was an aura - and not mere darkness.
And a dark aura of that nature could only be remnant of some dark and foreboding spirit who long ago stained these walls with their very own dark aura.
Continuing around the corner - and focusing hard to see through the aura to the reality of the space surrounding him - Morcant discerned that the passage ended as a very short and narrow hallway a few steps ahead.
Ptolmek glanced at the axe and with raised eyebrow wondered if the solid weapon might be magical as well. He shrugged - if Piker neglected the weapon - he might try it's heft.
"I don't see any of the other fighters we came in with. For now I would be glad to carry this weapon as a back-up. Perhaps we can sell it back at town as part of the group loot. I am not carrying much else."
"Piker, I found this on the wall," handing the tapestry to the gnome. "Does it mean anything to you?"
Moving toward the newly opened door, Ptolmek continues to speak to the party aloud "One more thing occurs to me," in his gravelly voice, "I do not know much about chests and locks or anything of that nature.
But did not that Iron Chest seem.... far too easy for our companion to open?" He shrugs, "Maybe someone more adept could check the base walls and lid for any secret compartments?"
"Hmmm... you've got a solid point Ptolmek, ol' pal..." he says rubbing at the swelling lump where the irritating poison was taking root. It seemed impotent, or at best only a minor irritant - but the knot forming certainly stung to the touch.
Blackbird moved back to the chest to continue exploring it's contents in the hopes a hidden compartment would be revealed.
'What luck! Not only do I miss a prize Axe and pile of gold in my haste... but I get a jab in the arm for my trouble... Well that all ends now! Ptolmek might be bright enough to think of the compartment, but it shall be I who uncovers the bounty!' Blackbird thinks to himself.
(OOC: Failed Action Blackbird, your Search Skill is not proficient enough to attempt locating such specific items. Stick to broad and general searching at this point. As a result...)
During his rubbing, tugging, and tapping Blackbird did not find a single hidden compartment. Just as he was about to give up and join the others in the side hallway, he did create a hollow noise near the base of the chest. Getting down on his belly to look more closely - he was thrilled - and uttered a small giggle of excitement!
At the base of the chest a thin wooden panel could be seen. Pressing the panel it popped out of place and fell slightly. Blackbird pulled the wooden shim away and...
Suddenly a hiss and a jet of air filled his face. The gas chocked his throat and filled his eyes with tears. It would appear the trap on the chest was either defective, or too old to work properly.
The same could be said for the gas which appeared to be less potent than likely intended.
'What luck' indeed, Blackbird.
Round Ends: Wednesday, May 21 at 9 PM - Please post turns!
Easy Click Character Stack
|
|
|
Find Realms on Facebook Follow along with the exclusive Facebook Adventures where your Likes, Comments, and Shares determine the outcome! | Enter the Circle on Google+ Enter the Circle to go behind-the-scenes during Player Only Google+ Circle discussions, hangouts, and more! |
RSS Feed