BelGareth
 The Briar Maze, Thornhold 

The city of Thornhold is a place of contradictions. By day, the grand spires and lush gardens of the Petal Gardens gleam in the sunlight, but here, deep within the Briar Maze, there is no light to be found. The narrow alleys are suffocating, their walls slick with grime and shadowed by towering, twisted structures that loom overhead like the skeletal remains of forgotten giants. The air is thick with the stench of rot and desperation, as if the very city itself is decaying from within.

You are dragged through these wretched streets by cloaked figures, their grip ironclad, unyielding. The only sounds are the distant drip of water and the shuffling of your captors’ feet on the cobblestones. You pass other denizens of the Maze—faces hollow with despair, eyes flickering with a mixture of fear and indifference. You’ve been through these streets before, but never like this. Never with your life hanging in the balance.

The winding path seems endless, the air growing colder with each step. Finally, you arrive at a massive wrought iron gate, its surface etched with arcane symbols that seem to pulse with a life of their own. Beyond the gate, a dim, greenish light flickers, casting eerie shadows that dance across the ground. Your captors exchange a glance, a silent communication that you’re too weary to decipher, and then the gate creaks open with a groan that echoes through the night.

You are unceremoniously shoved inside.

The chamber you enter is vast, its ceiling lost in the darkness above. The walls are lined with strange, glowing crystals that cast an unsettling green light over everything. But it is the creatures that catch your eye—hulking Minotaurs with chains around their necks, towering over you with cold, empty eyes. There are others too—bizarre and esoteric beings that seem out of place even in this nightmarish city. Some float, some crawl, and all seem to be bound by invisible forces to the will of something far more terrifying.

And then you see him.

Hovering in the center of the chamber, his presence both majestic and dreadful, is Orblesk. The Great and Mighty Orblesk, the Beholder. His large central eye glows with a sickly, malevolent light, and his many eyestalks twitch as if surveying you from every angle. His mouth twists into a grotesque approximation of a smile as you are forced to your knees before him.

Orblesk speaks, his voice smooth, laced with a mocking tone, and dripping with an unmistakable sense of self worth.

 "Ah, my dear comrades, welcome to the labyrinth that is my humble abode. I am Orblesk, the Great and the Magnificent! You have no doubt heard of me, da? Of course you have. It is an honor for you, I assure you." 

He circles slowly, his central eye fixed on you while his eyestalks flicker with amusement.

 "You see, this world, it is full of opportunity, full of potential. And you, my poor unfortunate souls, have found yourselves in quite the predicament, no? Debts to pay, misfortunes to correct. The world has not been kind to you, but fear not. Orblesk has a way for you to repay your debts. You work for me now, da? It will be… mutually beneficial." 

There is a cruel twinkle in his eye as he gestures toward a large, iron-bound door at the far end of the chamber. The Minotaur moves to unbolt it, revealing a pit beyond, its depths shrouded in shadow.

 "But before we discuss the business at hand, I must know if you are worthy of my investment. You will prove yourselves… in the pit. If you survive, then we will discuss your future assignments. If not, well… let us just say the pit does not often leave much to discuss." 

The door to the pit is swung wide open, and you are shoved forward, your feet stumbling on the rough stone as you’re herded toward the edge. The smell of sweat, fear, and old blood wafts up from below, mingling with the bitter taste of despair on your tongue.

Orblesk’s voice rings out one last time, filled with twisted glee.

 "Do svidaniya, my friends. Do try to entertain me." 

With a final push, you are sent tumbling into the darkness of the pit. The last thing you hear is the sound of Orblesk’s laughter echoing through the chamber as you brace yourself for whatever horrors await below.

The game has begun.

 
 Spoiler 

You all fall 40ft. Taking  (3d6)[ 14 ]  bludgeoning damage
Jump\tumble check DC 15 to reduce damage to  (2d6)[ 4 ] 
It's pitch black down in the pit, you will need darkvision, or a source of illumination.
 
Cygnia
 
 Spoiler: OOC 

Tumble check made in Discord with 20.
Shank has DR specific to bludgeoning, so only takes 2 points of dmg.
 


Numerous swear words, mostly in Infernal to hammer the point home of how pissed off he was, were tossed out against someone named "Rend Throttlegasp" as the spiky humanoid used the walls to help slow his fall.  The spiked swordsman had a surprising beauty in bouncing from one point to the next, hitting the necessary angles in a near-perfect trajectory.  It almost seemed as if he knew what he was doing.

...

...

...still, the entity let out a small grunt when he finally managed to land.  Gravity would not be thwarted with at least a bit of payment.

    TRICKED INTO BEING BARTER --  BARTER !!! BY HEXTOR'S UNYIELDING FIST, REND WILL PAY FOR THIS!!!     Shank had faithfully served the 6th Thunder Legion of Scourgehold under Rend's leadership for years -- and THIS was how he was treated?!  With dishonour and falsehood?!  Jealousy...it had to be jealousy, of course.  And a man who could not pay his own debts was no such man -- such leader -- at all.  Truly, Rend must have seen him as a threat to take over the 6th Thunder Legion of Scourgehold then.

    REVENGE...    

First things first.  He had to get out of this accursed pit.  And he wasn't alone in that matter.

   "SOUND OFF AND IDENTIFY, FELLOW BEINGS.  WHAT IS YOUR STATUS?  WHAT ASSETS DO WE HAVE IN THIS MISSION?  SHANK BLEAKSCAR, FORMERLY--"    One could hear the grimace behind that simple adverb.     "--FORMERLY OF THE 6TH THUNDER LEGION OF SCOURGEHOLD IN THE PLANE OF ACHERON.  ONLY MINOR BRUISING."   

And the spiker drew out his blades as he peered into the darkness surrounding him.

 
 Spoiler: Statblock 

   Shank Bleakscar   
M LE Spiker Fighter2/Swashbuckler3/Dervish1,  Level  6,  Init  4,  HP  48/50,  DR  2/Bludgeon,  Speed  40
 AC  21,  Touch  15,  Flat-footed  17,  Fort  8,  Ref  9,  Will  4,  Base Attack Bonus  6/1
 Finessable Scimitar +1   +13/8 (1d6+5, 18-20/x2)
 Finessable Scimitar +1   +13/8 (1d6+5, 18-20/2)
 Finessable Armor spikes (natural)   +10/5 (1d4+4, x2)
   Mithral Shirt +1  (+5 Armor, +4 Dex, +1 Natural, +1 Misc)
 Abilities  Str 13, Dex 18, Con 12, Int 16, Wis 10, Cha 10
 Condition  Damage reduction  2/bludgeoning
Resistance to acid 5
Darkvision 60ft
 
Starbuck_II
OOC
 
 Spoiler 

Failed Jump =6, Tumble =-4 so 14 damage lol

I'm leaving my mount elsewhere outside, probably not a good idea to bring it
 


This was not how a noble being such as Grunkin should endure. Well, not exactly noble, but something like that. Grunkin feel like he was a rock. His armor was not made for going down, only forward. He did his best to try to bash at the walls, but to no avail he smacked hard on the ground leaving a tiny crater where he landed. His minion feel soon afterward, fairing about the same. It shook it's head as it landed then got up waiting for commands.

  The juice had better be worth the squeeze. Come Daren, we got treasure to find, we know there is always treasure.  

He looked around, he wasn't alone. Will they be useful allies or will they be a problem, he didn't know.
 "You can't trust them. Everyone is out to get you. Get them first"  (everyone can hear this thought as its not his)

The voices are back. Darn, he was hoping they were finally gone. But whatever, they will have to get used them too.


Grunkin turned to the spikey fellow, " Look Quill , (ignoring his name)  I'm Grunkin and this large fellow is my body guard Daren, he doesn't talk. I'm sort of haunted, so you might hear some strange voices when I'm nearby.
 "
Grunkin gives hearty laugh.


Statblock
 
 Spoiler 


M TN Dwarf (Duergar) Cleric 5/Divine Oracle1, Level 6, Init 1, HP 47/61, Speed 30
AC 22, Touch 11, Flat-footed 21, Fort 9, Ref 5, Will 11, Base Attack Bonus 4
+1 Morningstar +9 (1d8+5, 20/x2)
Mst Full Plate (Extended Magic Vestment+1) (+9 Armor, +2 Shield,+1 Dex)
Abilities Str 18, Dex 12, Con 18, Int 12, Wis 18, Cha 6
Condition
Extended Lonstrider 12 hrs
Immunity to Paralysis, Poison/Phantasms
Darkvision 120ft

Daren

 Zombie Minotaur
 (84/93 hp)
Initiative:	–1
Speed:	20ft. (6 squares; can’t run)
Armor Class:	22 (–1 size, –1 Dex, +8 natural +6 Armor), touch 8, flat-footed 22
Base Attack/Grapple:	+6/+15
Attack:	Greataxe +10 melee (3d6+7/x3) or gore +10 melee (1d8+5) or slam +10 melee (1d8+5)
Full Attack:	Greataxe +10 melee (3d6+7/x3) or gore +10 melee (1d8+5) or slam +10 melee (1d8+5)
Space/Reach:	10 ft./10 ft.
Special Attacks:	—
Special Qualities:	Single actions only, damage reduction 5/slashing, darkvision 60 ft., undead traits
Saves:	Fort +4, Ref +3, Will +8
Abilities:	Str 21, Dex 8, Con —, Int —, Wis 10, Cha 1
Skills:	—
Feats:	Toughness
Created in Desecrate
Gear: Large Splint mail
 
Ilerien
Filfaerre tumbled down and landed without any grace, a heap of appendages, armor pieces and strands of white hair.

   The beholder is a strong contender for the title of my worst employer. Ugh, it hurts.   

The drow rose to her feet, trying her absolute best not to show her momentary weakness.

   - Filfaerre. A sellsword,    - she let out a mithless chuckle, clearly unfazed by the presence of a towering zombie.    - This haunting presence of yours might be on to something.   
   What a colorful bunch.   
 
 Spoiler: OOC 
Jump check:  (1d20+4)[ 8 ] 
 

 
 Spoiler: Statblock 
   Filfaerre Rostarr   
Female lesser drow duskblade 5 / cloistered cleric 1
CN Medium humanoid (elf)
 Init  2,  Senses  darkvision 70 ft, Listen 2, Spot 2
 HP  35/49 (6 HD),  Speed  30 ft
 AC  19,  Touch  12,  Flat-footed  17 (+2 Dex, +7 armor)
 Fort  9,  Ref  6,  Will  8,  BAB  5,  Grapple  9
 Melee   +1 falchion  +10 (2d4+6 +1d6 acid/18-20)
 Ranged   mw composite longbow  +8 (1d8+4/x3)
 Abilities  Str 18, Dex 14, Con 14, Int 14, Wis 12, Cha 8
 Spellcasting  duskblade CL 5th DC 12+, cleric CL 1st DC 11+
 Conditions &amp; effects : none
 
Postmodernist
Despite the sudden disappearance of the floor, Lan and his companions reacted with astonishing speed. The otyugh extended its tentacles, nearly wedging itself in the corner, and causing enough drag for the aberration to land almost gracefully. The dire badger scrabbled at the wall, but finding no purchase, twisted in the air like a cat, diminishing the impact of the fall. The gnome himself swung with his hooked hammer, the pick end lodging into the wall, the hizagkuur metal causing a shower of sparks to fall as he descended. The landing knocked the wind out of him, but he stood, surprised he and the beasts had reacted so well to unexpected danger.

  Looks like I'm not the only one with unusual friends,   he thought as he took in the assortment of hapless bodies that had dropped through the trap.  "I'm Lan. I'm a scout &amp; trapspringer. This is Grumblesnoot and Toejam."  The whisper gnome's eyes adjusted to the darkness, and his body (those that can see it, anyway) adopted a hunched, almost feral position. He sniffed the air a few times, before addressing the creatures behind him.  "You guys smell anything?" 
 "...nope"  came the reply, a resonant baritone from the otyugh Lan gauged his new companions' reactions in the dark. The eyeless, tentacled monstrosity speaking Common often elicited discomfort the first time it spoke to strangers.

 "Right. Stay sharp. I'm sure this place is crawling with more traps." 
 
 Spoiler: OOC 
Lan will shift into  Hunter's Sense  stance, granting myself the Scent Ex. ability. Lan will then take in the room, but I assume we'll wait for everyone else to land before additional description/rolls come into effect.
 

 
 Spoiler: Statblocks 

 
 Spoiler: Lan's Statblock 

   Lannan (Lan) Cobbletoss   
M CN Whisper Gnome Ranger 4/Warblade 1/Beast Heart Adept 1,  Level  6,  Init  3,  HP  55/59,  Speed  30
 AC  20,  Touch  14,  Flat-footed  17,  Fort  11,  Ref  9,  Will  7,  Base Attack Bonus  6
 Hizagkuur: counts as silver, +1 elec +1 fire +1 Hizagkuur gnome hooked hammer "Blazespark" (-)   8/3 (or 6/6/1 TWF) (1d6+2+1+1/1d4+2+1+1, x3/x4)
   Shortbow (20)   +10 (d4, x3)
 Activate for concealment Mithralmist Chain shirt ,    MW Dastana  (+5 Armor, +1 Shield, +3 Dex, +1 Size)
 Abilities  Str 12, Dex 16, Con 16, Int 14, Wis 12, Cha 10
 Condition  None
 

 
 Spoiler: Grumblesnoot's Statblock 

   Grumblesnout   
M   Dire Badger Dire Badger (Warbeast),  Level  4 HD,  Init  3,  HP  30/34,  Speed  40, 20 burrow
 AC  16,  Touch  13,  Flat-footed  13,  Fort  4,  Ref  3,  Will  2,  Base Attack Bonus  3
   2 claws  and bite    +6/+6 claw/+4 bite ( (1d4+2)(1d6+1),  )
 (+3 Dex, +3 Natural)
 Abilities  Str 17, Dex 17, Con 19, Int 2, Wis 14, Cha 10
 Condition  None
 

 
 Spoiler: Toejam's Statblock 

   Toejam   
Yuck Same as Lan Otyugh Monstrous Companion,  Level  6 hd,  Init  0,  HP  29/33,  Speed  20
 AC  9,  Touch  9,  Flat-footed  9,  Fort  4,  Ref  2,  Will  7,  Base Attack Bonus  4
 Reach, Improved grab Tentacle x2, bite   Tentacle+4 , bite +1 ((1d6),  (1d4),  )
 (-1 Size)
 Abilities  Str 11, Dex 10, Con 13, Int 5, Wis 12, Cha 6
 Condition  None
 

 
Xav
      
      Cassius Mournflow     
 Shadowcaster 
 AC: 18 (13 T/15 FF) 
 HP: 27/31 
 Spot: +9 
 Initiative: +3 
 Conditions: -  
 
  

A tall, almost haggardly thin man with black long tangled hair grouped himself during the fall and rose to his feet rather nimbly. The painful grimace on his face indicated, that the fall had not been entirely without a trace, but the man almost instantly returned his face to indifferent state.

After carefully examining - first - his surroundings for dangers, then - his companions in misfortune, he spoke:

 - Cassius Mournflow. Let's say, I operate the shadows and am good at hiding. Though certainly not good enough to avoid getting here. 

Suddenly a big, almost unnaturally black raven came down on the man's shoulder from the darkness above. Without blinking an eye, Cassius continued:

 - Pleased to meet you. Let's try to get out of here... In one piece. 
 
 Spoiler: OOC 
Tumble at 21 (roll in Discord).
 
Starbuck_II
Grunkin realizes, he only said his name, totally forgetting his God.

 I...uh, forgot to fully introduce myself. I follow the great and powerful, god of travel Fharlanghn, yeah it is a mouth full * he gives a heart laugh*
 As long as I see new places and travel, he empowers me with magic.
Otherwise I hit things till their dead, seems to work.

We should get moving, does anyone need healing?
 

Grunkin offers, a healthy team was better than a dead one. At the very least, it will keep the hate and monsters off swarming Grunkin
Ilerien
Filfaerre opened her mouth to offer the dwarf a snarky response, but a sprained knee, a forming giant bruise on the left forearm and a noticeable trickle of blood in the hair made her reconsider. After all, a real weakness in a real fight is worse than a perceived one. And back in the day a priestess teaching her told her the more someone does for you, the easier that someone would justify continuing it. Especially if that someone was a male.

   - I won't refuse some healing. Who knows what awaits further in the pit?    - she smiled with a corner of her mouth.
Starbuck_II
Grunkin draws out a wand, it's a slender wand, 11" long, made of holly, has a emerald at the tip.
He taps it twice on Filfaerre then twice on himself. As he says the command word,  "Gerendal" , green energy washes over the two.

 "I don't like using it in combat, which is why I got the belt, but it's a very useful piece of gear while we are currently safe. Can't use it too often, don't want to break it" 
  Sorry, Daren, I'll wait till you get hit in combat then healing after or before we are falling asleep, you'll live...well not live exactly.  

He puts the wand away in his belt.
 
 Spoiler 

Rolled in Discord I healed F man 11 hp, and myself 18
 
BelGareth
 The Entrance Hall of the Gauntlet of the Fallen 

You find yourselves standing before the entrance to what is rumored to be the Gauntlet of the Fallen, a place where many have ventured, but few have returned. The air here is heavy with an oppressive sense of foreboding, as if the very stones beneath your feet remember the countless souls who have passed this way before you.

Before you looms a massive stone door, its surface etched with intricate carvings that twist and turn in patterns both mesmerizing and unsettling. The door stands slightly ajar, but not from some benevolent hand offering you an easy entrance. No, next to the door is a large, jagged hole, punched through the stone by brute force. The edges of the hole are rough and uneven, as if made by desperate hands or perhaps some creature with more strength than sense.

As you approach, you notice the remnants of those who came before you. Scattered around the entrance are broken weapons—rusted swords and splintered shields—that once belonged to the adventurers who tried to force their way inside. A cracked shield, bearing the faded emblem of a long-forgotten knightly order, lies discarded against the wall. Nearby, a torn journal page flutters in the stale breeze, the ink smudged but still legible enough to make out the hurried scrawl: “The riddle… We couldn’t solve it… We had no choice…”

The atmosphere is thick with the weight of past failures, and the faint smell of mildew mixes with the sharper tang of old blood. The stone floor is uneven, with small pools of water collecting in the cracks, reflecting the dim light that seems to emanate from nowhere in particular. Shadows cling to the corners of the room, as if reluctant to reveal what they hide.

The door itself still holds its secrets. The carvings seem to shift when you aren’t looking directly at them, forming symbols and runes that hint at the riddle that lies within. There’s a sense that the door is waiting—challenging you to solve its mystery where others have failed. If you can decipher the riddle, perhaps you’ll gain more than just passage; perhaps the vault will reward you for doing what others could not.

But there is also the path of brute force—the hole in the wall that leads into the darkness beyond. It’s a rough and dangerous passage, one that speaks of desperation rather than wisdom. The choice is yours: attempt to solve the riddle and walk through the door as intended, or follow in the footsteps of those who shattered their way inside, leaving behind the signs of their struggle and defeat.

The silence of the hall presses in around you, broken only by the occasional drip of water and the distant, echoing sound of something moving far below. The Gauntlet of the Fallen awaits your decision, as it has awaited all those who came before you.

An inscription on the door in Draconic reads:  "I am not alive, but I grow; I do not have lungs, but I need air; I have no mouth, yet I can drown. What am I?" 
 
 Spoiler 

None of the discarded items are worth anything except maybe scrap metal.
 
Xav
      
      Cassius Mournflow     
 Shadowcaster 
 AC: 18 (13 T/15 FF) 
 HP: 27/31 
 Spot: +9 
 Initiative: +3 
 Conditions: -  
 
  

Cassius' first impression of his companions was quite satisfactory. Even though some of them looked rather... ambiguous, on the whole they all seemed willing to cooperate, which was the most important thing at the moment.

As the man approached the door, he carefully examined it, and then, even more carefully, - the alternate entrance.

 - Not sure I want to meet with whatever made that hole. Hope we'll have enough combined brains to solve this... 

Cassius several times re-read the inscriptions. Luckily, his old knowledge of Draconic wasn't completely forgotten, and he understood the phrases. After some mental enumerations of inanimate phenomena that need air but are afraid of water, Mournflow had a guess, but decided to hear his new companions as well:

 - For those who don't know Draconic... The riddle sounds like this: I am not alive, but I grow; I do not have lungs, but I need air; I have no mouth, yet I can drown. What am I? 
Ilerien
   - Thank you,    - Filfaerre nodded to the dwarf. She listened attentively, taking note of the capabilities he described.

What little time the drow had before they found themselves before the door, she used to tie her hair into something resembling a ponytail. The prospective bruise on her forearm behaved.

The sellsword snatched the page, the one so conveniently left there, looked at it for a split second, then discarded the useless piece of paper.

   - It wants us to play a game. Peculiar,    - the drow clicked her tongue, studying the inscription on the door.    - Ixen,     - she gave Cassius a slight nod and hissed a single word. Someone speaking the language of dragons would have recognized it as the one meaning "fire".
Auranghzeb
 Ok, It was truth that the fire was completely avoidable... and that master Orblesk had warned me several times I had to be more careful with my fidgeting while studying the old tomes... can't say he didn't warn me. But the gauntlet? Really? after all those years of serving him and keeping this damp place warm? Iboguru be damned!


Besides, I have to deal with these weird folks... who are they?  


This is all Short thinks as he dusts off, his mind is quick and goes faster than his fast darting eyes or the flickering of the fire he constantly holds in his tiny hand.


 


He scans the others and says nothing...

 How in the cold hearted blood of a silver dragon am I supposed to trust these... tall people.  


He reads the enigma...

  Well, it is Fire, sure enough.  


But he keeps it to himself while he watches the others.
Postmodernist
Lan frowned as his equally hapless compatriots chattered. He made a motion to keep everyone quiet.

 "Give me a moment. We've already fallen through one trap. I wouldn't put it past our host to have placed others." 

Ignoring the conversation about draconic to more learned party members, and satisfied with the drow maiden's answer, he contented himself with searching the portal for traps.

 
 Spoiler: OOC 
Search skill roll to check for traps- Lan rolled a 5+14=19 in discord.
 
Starbuck_II
Grunkin was perflexed.

On one hand, he felt at home here underground, but the door...

This door felt wrong. It's stone but not stone, clearly magic with the runes, but he sees he can read the inscription.

   "I am not alive, but I grow; I do not have lungs, but I need air; I have no mouth, yet I can drown. What am I? Could it be a fireball spell...no too complex, probably the base word flame?"  

He surviewed the broken armories and read the journal.

 I think if you try brute force something... something kills you. Why else all the bloody gear? 

Then he heard the Drow Maiden speak the word Ixen  , could it just be fire instead of flame, he did not know.  

" Thanks, Lan for checking for other traps. If you ever need aid another, I can help when it is stone. I think the answer is either flame or fire as answer.  
Cygnia
   "RIDDLES -- BAH!"    Shank glowered at the door.     "WHOEVER DESIGNED THIS HAD FAR TOO MUCH TIME ON THEIR APPENDAGES."   

He paused.

   "THAT MAKES THEM DANGEROUS."   

He could respect a disciplined battle caster of either arcane or divine nature who knew how to maneuver the terrain to help thwart the enemy or sheer blasting capability in manipulating the very elements.  Even a bard who could bolster his troops' morale or hinder the enemy's will was useful (Shank gave bards far more credit than his former leader Rend did).

But riddles reeked of arrogance.  Of entities far too enamored with their own perceived cleverness.  However, if they had had time to entrench their defenses, said arrogance might turn out justified.
Xav
      
      Cassius Mournflow     
 Shadowcaster 
 AC: 18 (13 T/15 FF) 
 HP: 27/31 
 Spot: +9 
 Initiative: +3 
 Conditions: -  
 
  

While Lan looked for traps, Cassius froze, trying not to disturb his companion. Despite his skills at hiding and moving in the shadows, the man preferred not to deal with traps, so it this field he totally relied on the skills of professional. After the search was over, he continued:

 - I see, our guesses are similar. Fire it is. Unfortunately, my talents are limited in the ways to produce flame, and I'm not too fond of  torches,  - Cassius smiled slightly,  - So, is anyone of you able to channel fire at the door? 
Ilerien
The drow looked at the small creature holding - almost clutching - a flickering flame.

   - The answer seems to be right here,     - she said with another not-quite-smile and addressed the creature.    - Care to touch the door with this flame of yours? By the way, what do we call you?   
 
 Spoiler: Statblock 
   Filfaerre Rostarr   
Female lesser drow duskblade 5 / cloistered cleric 1
CN Medium humanoid (elf)
 Init  2,  Senses  darkvision 70 ft, Listen 2, Spot 2
 HP  46/49 (6 HD),  Speed  30 ft
 AC  19,  Touch  12,  Flat-footed  17 (+2 Dex, +7 armor)
 Fort  9,  Ref  6,  Will  8,  BAB  5,  Grapple  9
 Melee   +1 falchion  +10 (2d4+6 +1d6 acid/18-20)
 Ranged   mw composite longbow  +8 (1d8+4/x3)
 Abilities  Str 18, Dex 14, Con 14, Int 14, Wis 12, Cha 8
 Spellcasting  duskblade CL 5th DC 12+, cleric CL 1st DC 11+
 Conditions &amp; effects : none
 
Auranghzeb
 Agh, these creatures are actually talking to me. How unpleasing... at least they can read Draconic, could it be they are not as dumb as they look? They are chatty, that's for sure and they figured our this low-brain puzzle.
 

He looks at the drow intently.

 Ha, you can call me Sir.

And yes, you melded brainwarts figured out.

 Ixen,  from the old draconic root  Ivx  which means "primordial light that brings life" and latter became fire.

Yes...  


He twitches and shivers...

 Oh, Master Orblesk, this time you have gone too far. I will serve as entertainment, but you'll pay for this. 


He then flicks the flame in his tiny hand towards the door.

   Ixen viam illuminat   
Ilerien
The drow watched the flame travel towards the door, then turned back to the small creature.

   - I have a feeling a lesson in Draconic etymology isn't going to be the last item on the list of things I absolutely didn't expect to encounter today,    - she chuckled again.    - I can't shake off a mental image of your mother holding a baby and proclaiming he'll be named "Sir". Or does your species reproduce in some other way?    - the sellsword fluttered her eyelashes innocently.
Auranghzeb
Short Fuse looks at the drow.


 I cant' shake the image of  your  mother holding you over a pit of demons ready to throw you in exchange for status...

Family lessons from a drow! What's next? 


He looks at the dwarf

 Want to comment on my height and drinking habits? 
Xav
      
      Cassius Mournflow     
 Shadowcaster 
 AC: 18 (13 T/15 FF) 
 HP: 27/31 
 Spot: +9 
 Initiative: +3 
 Conditions: -  
 
  


A faint smile appeared on Cassius' face, when the small creature mentioned drow's parent-child relationships. Still, judjing by several phrases, that somewhat ridiculous creature was highly intelligent, and it would definitely be foolish to underestimate him, so the man addressed the one-called-Sir:

 - So, honorable Sir, it seems, that you know Draconic. And some details about the peculiarities of the drow parental mentality. Might I ask you, where were you fortunate enough to receive this kind of education? 
Starbuck_II
 "Sorry, you are so far down there, I can barely hear you." 

Grunkin says with chuckle.

 "You look like you need a drink from your bottle. Is Baby thirsty? 
Cygnia
Shank scowled at the verbal sniping.  Such insults would not get them into this particular door any faster.

A beat.

The spiker's scowl only deepened at the thought of a trapped door needing people to insult each other in order to gain entry.
Starbuck_II
"A rgh, you are right, I can't help taking up a challenge when the shrimp said, 'Want to comment on my height and drinking habits?'" 

Grunkin sighed.

 "So any ideas? Maybe we need to build a fire?
Maybe we needto think outside the box and this puzzle doesn't mean what we think?" 
BelGareth
As the words leave your lips—*"Ixen"—*the carvings on the massive stone door begin to glow with an eerie, reddish light. The patterns shift and swirl, as if they’ve come alive, before finally settling into place. With a low, rumbling sound, the door slowly begins to open, the heavy stone grinding against the floor as it reveals the passage beyond.

The air that rushes out from the opening is dry and warm, carrying with it the faint scent of ash, as if a fire had long ago burned in the depths of this place. The sense of foreboding increases, but so does the feeling that you’ve overcome the first of many challenges this vault has to offer. A subtle warmth spreads through your bodies, and you realize that something has granted you a small boon—perhaps the vault itself, acknowledging your cleverness. The fire that threatened to consume others now feels less dangerous to you.

The door is now fully open, revealing a dark corridor that seems to stretch far into the distance, the flickering light from behind you barely reaching a few feet inside. Beyond the door lies the unknown, but the path is clear.


 


You step cautiously through the door and into the corridor beyond. The air here is stiflingly warm, as though the very stones are holding onto the heat of an ancient fire. The walls of the corridor are smooth, polished black stone, reflecting your faint light like the surface of a dark, still pool. The floor is made of large, flat stones, each one meticulously placed, but there is something about them that puts you on edge—perhaps it’s the faint scratches and marks that suggest movement beneath the surface.

The corridor is long and narrow, with walls lined by statues of armored warriors, their expressions stern and their weapons raised as if in eternal battle. The statues are eerily lifelike, crafted with such detail that you can almost see the veins in their hands and the texture of the fabric beneath their armor. Each one holds a weapon—a sword, an axe, a spear—raised and ready, as if waiting for the command to strike.

As you move further in, the floor beneath your feet feels uneven, and you notice something else: scattered across the ground are the remnants of those who came before you. Rusted blades, broken shields, and shattered bones litter the passage, along with the occasional piece of equipment—climbing gear, old ropes, and the rusted remains of what might have once been a grappling hook. The walls, too, bear the marks of past struggles. Deep gouges mar the smooth stone, as though something—or someone—tried to claw their way out.

To your left, the walls are etched with desperate notes and warnings, scrawled in haste by those who had tried to navigate this treacherous path. "Beware the floor," one note reads, scratched into the stone by a trembling hand. Another warns, "Only the walls are safe." And yet, there are signs of attempts to scale the walls—old pitons hammered into cracks, a frayed rope hanging uselessly from a statue’s outstretched hand.
Postmodernist
Satisfied that there were no immediate traps, but unhappy that the party had given away their position to everything within a mile with their prattle, Lan pinched the bridge of his nose in irritation when the stone portal began to roll away. The smell of ash hanging in the air offended Lan's enhanced senses, and he wrinkled his nose in disgust.

Reading the strange signs in the room, Lan pulled a grappling hook out of his bag and wrapped the length of rope around his shoulder. If the floor was the source of the danger, he wanted to be prepared.

 "Stay sharp,"  was all the gnome uttered as they explored the room. He scanned the room for any traps or strange devices, and kept near Grumblesnoot, in case he needed to swiftly mount the beast.
Cygnia
   "SEE IF THERE IS ANY SORT OF TILE PATTERN TO THE FLOOR IN YOUR EXAMINATIONS."    Shank suggested to the gnome.  The notes claimed the floor was dangerous and that only the walls were safe.  And yet, it appeared that any attempt to scale the walls seemed initially futile in its own right if the frayed rope was any indication.    "OR ON THE WALLS."   
Ilerien
Filfaerre's hand twitched as if it wanted to strangle someone.

   - Beware the floor. Only the walls are safe,    - she read the notes aloud.    - How considerate of the people fighting for their lives to spend some time writing warnings for subsequent venturers. Don't treat these notes as a source of ultimate truth. And watch the statues. I'm risking to state the obvious, but a lifelike statue in a place like this is just one step away from coming alive and demonstrating everyone its foul mood,    - she turned sideways to make space for Lan and his beast.
Auranghzeb
 Appalling, really appalling master. 

Thought Short Fuse as the doors opened and the stench of death came rushing out...


He stood by the gnome holding his flame as a light in the darkness.

Oh, the darkness... a shiver ran up his spine.
BelGareth
Lan searches the floor between the party and the statues, scanning each flagstone carefully and probing gently. Finally, they scoop up some dirt and let it gently fall over one suspicious section, which confirms their suspicion—which is then confirmed again and again. The floor was trapped. There are pressure plates on each section of the floor where the statues begin in the hallway, with 12 statues on either side.
Xav
      
      Cassius Mournflow     
 Shadowcaster 
 AC: 18 (13 T/15 FF) 
 HP: 27/31 
 Spot: +9 
 Initiative: +3 
 Conditions: -  
 
  

When the door began to open, Cassius instinctively hid into the shadows, protecting himself from a possible threat. Still, the space outside the door seemed safe. For now. But, as the others have already voiced, there was a serious suspicion that the danger could come not only from the plates on the floor. In a quiet, calm voice Cassius remarked:

 - I guess, moving further would be a bad idea. But is there a chance, that these statues and walls also contain the triggers for traps? 

After this phrase the man looked at the ceiling of the hallway, trying to determine, if it's possible to use it somehow to move across.

 
 Spoiler: OOC 
What is the ceiling height? Can I determine, what kind of material it is made of? Is there anything there that could be used as a hook for a rope?
 
Postmodernist
 
 Originally Posted by BelGareth 
 Lan searches the floor between the party and the statues, scanning each flagstone carefully and probing gently. Finally, they scoop up some dirt and let it gently fall over one suspicious section, which confirms their suspicion—which is then confirmed again and again. The floor was trapped. There are pressure plates on each section of the floor where the statues begin in the hallway, with 12 statues on either side. 
 

Lan points out the pressure plates to the group.  "Watch your step,"  his voice stern, emphasizing that they were all at risk, should any of them move without care. The trapspringer looked around the room, seeing if there was a means of traversing the space without triggering the trap, or at least some means of disabling it.
Starbuck_II
" Maybe the secret is destroying the statues? After all, they remain so maybe removing one is the key, but which one? " Grunkin said

Grunkin concentrated hard on the area.



 
 Spoiler 

Stonecunning lets me auto detect secret stone stuff, but my search skill is low, just making sure that is known.
"Unusual stonework, such as sliding walls, stonework traps, new construction (even when built to match the old), unsafe stone surfaces, shaky stone ceilings, and the like. Something that isn’t stone but that is disguised as stone also counts as unusual stonework. A dwarf who merely comes within 10 feet of unusual stonework can make a Search check check as if he were actively searching"

Just in case
 (1d20+3)[ 23 ] 
 
Postmodernist
Ignoring the Duergar necromancer's comments, Lan set to work seeing whether or not he could bypass the trap's clockwork mechamisms.

 
 Spoiler: OOC 
1d20 + 14  =   1d20 {8} + 14 =  22 from die roller thread in Discord.
 
Cygnia
Shank bounced slightly on the back of his heels.  The spiker was eager for a fight, and even pondered the sarcastic dwarf's comments.  Still, when in a hostile environment, every soldier had their duty on the battlefield.  The sapper clearing away traps was just as valuable as the infantry in combat.  Right now, it was best to risk only the gnome before the rest of the group proceeded forward.

Beside, stone enemies were annoyingly difficult to fight.
Ilerien
The drow sellsword shifted her body weight and assumed a posture betraying her readiness to lash out on whatever danger might've appeared. The gnome's work was elaborate, and, while she was admittedly impressed by his ability to determine the location of those treacherous pressure plates, she knew anything could've gone not as planned.
Xav
      
      Cassius Mournflow     
 Shadowcaster 
 AC: 18 (13 T/15 FF) 
 HP: 27/31 
 Spot: +9 
 Initiative: +3 
 Conditions: -  
 
  
 - If necessary, I can move objects from distance. Not too big,  - calmly added Cassius, trying not to distract their trap specialist.
BelGareth
Lan gets to work on attempting to disable one of the pressure plates, needle-thin pry bars are placed in gingerly, flat-topped needles are then shimmied in, and then with a little leverage....the needles fly out in a clatter and the pressure plate poops back to it's original position. You do notice, that you did not trip the mechanism however. Perhaps you can try again?
Postmodernist
Lan hissed in disappointment, alternately sucking his thumb and shaking his hand, seeking to alleviate the sting of the lever snapping back at him.  "I might be able to get this, given some time. If any of you can magic up something in the way of assistance, or if one of you with any experience of this sort of thing could at least help  gently  assist me with holding these. Or maybe shine some light?"  He gestured at his set of tools. He paused a beat, seeing how the motley lot wanted to proceed. Lan was a specialist, not a leader.

 
 Spoiler: OOC 
Lan will take 10, if possible, and is asking for some Aid Another action, or any buffs like Cat's Grace or similar.
 
Starbuck_II
 "I may help you find stuff, but the actual labor I am not familiar with, sorry, Lan" 

Grunkin shrugs, he was not really prepared to traps. If he had a day, he could prepare something, but not at last minute.
Xav
      
      Cassius Mournflow     
 Shadowcaster 
 AC: 18 (13 T/15 FF) 
 HP: 27/31 
 Spot: +9 
 Initiative: +3 
 Conditions: -  
 
  
 - Unfortunately, I'm not the one who should be asked for light. But I still can check, what lies further, without stepping anywhere.  - after this words the pitch-black raven silently flew off the man's shoulder and vanished into the darkness of the hallway.

 - And while I definitely might be able to help with subtle manipulations, I still would appreciate some instructions,  - Cassius demonstrates his capabilities, forming a ghostly hand, woven from shadows.

 
 Spoiler: OOC 
Sending my familiar to scout ahead. Without touching anything. It's a raven with dark template, so it should see in darkness without problems.
Mainly I'd like to check, if there are any levers ahead. Or, maybe, some other methods/hints, how to disable the traps.

Also, I'll try to help Lan via Umbral Hand fundamental and Quicker Than The Eye mystery, holding the needles.
 
Postmodernist
Again, Lan ginger slips his prybars beneath the stones, seeking to dislodge them without triggering the mechanisms. He drew breath, inserted the narrow tools, and exhaled as he sought to draw it out.

 
 Spoiler: OOC 
In  Discord , one whole point better Disable Device: 1d20 + 14  =   1d20 {9} + 14 = ✨ 23 ✨
 
Starbuck_II
Grunkin decides to get his hands dirty and tries to help pry square up for Lan.

 
 Spoiler 

Aid another check: Need to roll a 10 or higher, no failure since I'm just helping
 (1d20+1)[ 4 ] 
 
BelGareth
After a few minutes more, with some aid, you are able to lock the first pressure plate into place. One down, 15 more to go.

Meanwhile, Cassius' familiar, small and agile, flits ahead through the hall, navigating the treacherous path of pressure plates and statues. As it nears the end of the corridor, it notices something unusual: a patch of wall where the stonework appears slightly different—there’s a hairline crack running along one of the slabs. Upon closer inspection, the familiar can feel a faint draft coming from behind the stone.
Postmodernist
Lan sighed, straightening up from the floor where he'd been tinkering, and regarded the group.  "That's the first one."  He gestured with an air of resignation to the double-digit array of armed traps before him.  "Those are the rest. If anyone can suggest a more efficient way to get out of here, I'm all ears. Otherwise, it'll take me ages to disarm all of these, and there's no guarantee of success." 

Grumblesnoot chuffed impatiently in the entranceway, and Toejam extended his eyestalk into the room, a curious child despite its alien appearance. Lan took a moment to scratch and soothe his companions before the party determined next steps.
Xav
      
      Cassius Mournflow     
 Shadowcaster 
 AC: 18 (13 T/15 FF) 
 HP: 27/31 
 Spot: +9 
 Initiative: +3 
 Conditions: -  
 
  
 - Wait. There might be another way to cross this hallway.  - even though Cassius didn't see the crack in the wall with hid own eyes, the Raven described it clearly enough for the man to understand that they might have a chance.

 - There is a a miniature crack in the wall ahead, behind the trapped statues. We might be able to get around the traps. lf we find a passage. The crack is there,  - Cassius points in the intended direction and begins to examine the walls (not approaching the statues or trapped plates, though) thoroughly for the possibility of opening them. Or breaking.

 - If the passage is not here, we might check the broken wall at the starting chamber. 
 
 Spoiler: OOC 

 (1d20+5)[ 17 ]  - Searching for secret pressure mechanisms or empty spaces behind the nearby walls
 
BelGareth
Cassius searches the area for anything that could clue into a possible second latch, a quick scan reveals nothing, but then he pulls out a dagger and starts to tap against the stone, tap tap, tap tap, tap thunk. You find a stone that must have a hollow behind it, or perhaps it's made of something else?
Xav
      
      Cassius Mournflow     
 Shadowcaster 
 AC: 18 (13 T/15 FF) 
 HP: 27/31 
 Spot: +9 
 Initiative: +3 
 Conditions: -  
 
  
 - Look. There seems to be an empty space behind the stone. Either we find a trigger to open it, or break through the wall. In the latter, however, I'm not much help,  - mentions Cassius after some exploration.
Ilerien
Filfaerre stepped towards Cassius, lowering her curved sword and taking it into one hand.

   - It would be so boring to wait until all the pressure plates have been dealt with,    - said the drow breathily.    - If anyone has a pickaxe or something else suitable, I'm willing to try my hand at demolishing a potion of the wall to see what that empty space is. Or does it sound like a job for a  duergar ? What do you think, Grunkin?   
Cygnia
   "A SOUND THEORY,"    said Shank, giving the shadowcaster a nod of acknowledgement.

As the drow spoke up, the spiker looked down at his own blades and frowned thoughtfully.  The stone wall risked damaging their edges as much as any potential golems.  Best to let those who knew stone better to give it a go first.
Starbuck_II
 Argh, left me pickaxe at home, but my servant has an big axe and I got a morningstar, both used to bash open things.
But you'd have to lead me to right area or we'd be wasting out time.

Where did your Raven find the crack? 

Grunkin orders Daren to ready his axe, the large bodyguard lifts his axe into position.

Grunkin tries to search wall for secret entrances befote they start bashing

If Grunkin fails to find switch, they attack wall

 
 Spoiler 

Wish I had put more ranks in search now lol

  search  - (1d20+3)[ 4 ] 

Daren
 (1d20+10)[ 16 ]  Dam:  (3d6+7)[ 21 ] 

Grunkin
 (1d20+5)[ 20 ]  Dam with PA for 4:  (1d8+11)[ 19 ] 
 
BelGareth
As you strike the hollow portion of the wall, the stone cracks and crumbles, revealing a small cavity hidden within. Dust and bits of rock fall away, revealing an ancient, rusted lever embedded in the stone. It’s clear this mechanism has not been used in many years, but despite its age, it remains intact.

After a quick inspection, you find no signs of traps. The lever seems to be purely mechanical, connected to the corridor’s internal workings. The choice is yours—pull it, or risk navigating the deadly path ahead.

Once you pull the lever, there is a moment of silence, followed by the deep, resonating sound of grinding stone. The statues lining the hall seem to tremble for a moment before their weapons lower, locking into place with a heavy, metallic clang. You hear a faint click beneath the floor as the pressure plates deactivate. The path ahead is now clear—at least for the time being.


 


With the statues disarmed and the pressure plates disabled, the hall feels eerily still. The remnants of past adventurers—broken tools, shattered weapons, and claw marks in the stone—serve as a grim reminder of what might have happened if you hadn’t found the lever. You step carefully past the motionless statues, their eyes still gazing ahead as if ready to strike at any moment.

At the far end of the corridor, another door awaits. This one is smaller, simpler than the entrance you came through, but no less foreboding. You push it open, and the air beyond is cooler—damp, with the faint scent of stagnant water and something else, something… ancient.


 


As you step into the next room, the space opens up into a large circular chamber with a domed ceiling. The walls, carved from black stone, are covered in strange, swirling symbols that seem to hum with a low, constant energy. The air here is thick, humid, and unsettling, with the faint sound of dripping water echoing throughout the chamber. Every footstep sends ripples through the shallow pool of water that covers the floor, creating soft splashes that seem unnaturally loud in the stillness.

At the far end of the room, there are signs that others have passed through before. The remains of a camp—a torn bedroll, a few scattered tools—lie abandoned, as if left in a hurry. There’s a body too, half-submerged in the water, clutching a cracked mirror in its hand. Its face is frozen in a look of terror, and it’s clear this adventurer met an unfortunate end.

As you move further into the room, you realize that the acoustics here are strange. Every sound—your footsteps, your breathing—echoes back at you, magnified and distorted. Even the slightest noise reverberates unnaturally, as if the walls themselves are amplifying the sound.

Carved into the stone walls are messages, scrawled in haste by those who came before you: "Silence is your friend" and "Beware the sound." Below the warnings, more arcane symbols pulse softly, their meaning unclear, but their presence ominous.

The room feels charged with tension, as though even the air itself is waiting for something to break the silence.

 
 Spoiler 

Accompany any action with a Move Silent check.
 
Postmodernist
The ranger breathed a sigh of relief as the pressure plates were deactivated. More confident in their safety, he proceeded with the others.

Eyeing the room's ominous warnings, Lan puts a finger to his lips, beckoning his comrades closer. A shiver courses over the room, as a field of silence is drawn around the whisper gnome like a curtain. The dampening of sound is disorienting, a wave of vertigo passing as quickly as it came. Lan pulls a piece of chalk out from one of his belt pouches, should silent communication be required.

With that, he begins gingerly picking through the camp's remnants, careful not to disturb things as he examines it.

 
 Spoiler: OOC 
Activate whisper gnome racial   silence   ability.
 Move silently roll  =19
 
Ilerien
The place was as damp as a kuo-toa's undergarments, the air was too heavy with moisture and uncomfortable to breathe. And the echoes returning the reverberating sounds to whoever produced them. The sellsword's desire to utter a witty remark died quickly. She froze in her tracks, staring at the warnings - and the sigils beneath them. Vaguely familiar sigils.

 
 Spoiler: OOC 
MS check to cover the distance from the entrance to the far side of the room before Lan casts his  silence :  (1d20-1)[ 17 ] . I imagine, the party has seen the warnings too late. If not, ignore it.
Spellcraft check to recall what she knows of the symbols in question:  (1d20+12)[ 22 ] 
 
BelGareth
Lan finds only water logged detritus, while Filfaerre looks at the strange sigils, she vaguely remembers some kind of sonic spell that had similar stylizations. Though that was an age ago, you cannot recall exactly what it does...or did.
Xav
      
      Cassius Mournflow     
 Shadowcaster 
 AC: 18 (13 T/15 FF) 
 HP: 27/31 
 Spot: +9 
 Initiative: +3 
 Conditions: -  
 
  

Satisfied with the results of his exploration, Cassius moves further alongside his companions, and points at the cracked part of the wall, when they pass near it:  - Here's the weak place. It might make sense to check what's behind it. 

When they proceed, the man, as usual, moves silently and cautiously. The already familiar messages on the walls, warning of danger, make him even more careful, and he froze, studying the symbols on the walls.

 
 Spoiler: OOC 

First of all, I suggest to find out, what's behind the cracked wall.
 (1d20+17)[ 36 ]  - Move Silently
 (1d20+14)[ 22 ]  - Spellcraft, trying to understand the meaning and purpose of the symbols on the walls.
 
Cygnia
Shank was no scout or trapfinder, but he held back before entering the new corridor in order to follow Cassius' suggestion of examining the crack in the wall.

 
 Spoiler 
Taking 20 for a 23 on Search here.
 


****

The spiker's scowl grew even more concerned at the sigils and the scrawled messages imploring silence.  For an entity who appeared to have no concept of an "inside voice", being forced to restrain his natural bombastic volume was painful.  Once more, he mentally reminded himself of the value of stealth and quiet in enemy territory.  There would be time to rant later, Hextor willing.

The cracked mirror held by the corpse in the stagnant pool gave him pause as well as he went over towards the beckoning gnome and his bubble of silence.

 
 Spoiler: Statblock 

   Shank Bleakscar   
M LE Spiker Fighter2/Swashbuckler3/Dervish1,  Level  6,  Init  4,  HP  48/50,  DR  2/piercing or slashing,  Speed  40
 AC  21,  Touch  15,  Flat-footed  17,  Fort  8,  Ref  9,  Will  4,  Base Attack Bonus  6/1
 Finessable Scimitar +1   +13/8 (1d6+5, 18-20/x2)
 Finessable Scimitar +1   +13/8 (1d6+5, 18-20/x2)
 Finessable Armor spikes (natural)   +10/5 (1d4+4, x2)
   Mithral Shirt +1  (+5 Armor, +4 Dex, +1 Natural, +1 Misc)
 Abilities  Str 13, Dex 18, Con 12, Int 16, Wis 10, Cha 10
 Condition  • Damage reduction  2/piercing or slashing: A spiker’s spiny skin grants resistance to bludgeoning attacks, though piercing or slashing attacks slip through normally.
Resistance to acid 5
Darkvision 60ft
 

 (1d20+3)[ 5 ]  Move Silently attempt...
Auranghzeb
 games games games  Thought Fuse clearly exasperated...



 moving silently (1d20+11)[ 12 ]    Short Fuse peeked over the spiker's shoulder into the mirror held by the corpse.


 Could it be magic? Master... 
BelGareth
Cassius recalls reading a tome of ancient wind elemental princes that seem to resemble some of the arcane script on the walls, but other than that, not much else. Standing within the silence spell seems to have done the trick, perhaps that was it?

Meanwhile the others inspect the other crack in the wall, find a hollowed out void, dismantle the stone, and find another level, after some trials, it is used to reset the traps, just like it's sister level on the other side.

Perhaps merely passing through without any sound was it? Either way, the door looms silently at you all as you analyze the moving script on the walls.

 
 Spoiler 

Assuming everyone is either outside or within the silence spell. let me know if not.
 
Xav
      
      Cassius Mournflow     
 Shadowcaster 
 AC: 18 (13 T/15 FF) 
 HP: 27/31 
 Spot: +9 
 Initiative: +3 
 Conditions: -  
 
  

Cassius nodded silently, as their small group, moving under the spell of silence, reaches the door. Perhaps this room still contained some unsolved mysteries, but their search was fraught.

Now the man was examining the door in front of them, trying to figure out, if there was a risk, that the noise of its opening would wake up something that could threaten the group.

 
 Spoiler: OOC 

Not sure, what to roll, so no rolls at all.
 
Starbuck_II
Grunkin and his body guard try to stay within silent area to not arouse any possible watching foes as they walk

He wasn't sure what occurred here, it seems something attacked the old owners but what.

 
 Spoiler 


Totally forgot to post
 
BelGareth
You move cautiously through the chamber, the oppressive air thick with tension. The shallow water beneath your feet ripples with every step, amplifying even the faintest sound. But your preparation has not been in vain—around you, the magical dome of silence holds firm, muting the world beyond. No sound escapes its confines.

As one of you steps forward, your foot brushes against the edge of a submerged stone, producing a sharp clink that would have echoed through the room… but in the protective embrace of the Silence spell, the noise is swallowed instantly.

For a moment, you think you’ve bypassed the trap entirely, but then the symbols along the walls pulse violently. Even without sound, you can feel the trap’s deadly magic attempting to activate. The familiar rumbling returns, as the force of the ward struggles to take hold but finds no echoing sound to amplify. Instead, the symbols flicker, then dim—disarmed, but only barely.

You feel the ground beneath you shift, a low tremor rippling through the stone. Then, with a grinding sound, a portion of the far wall slides open, revealing the way ahead.


 


You step into a vast chamber that feels far older and more dangerous than anything you’ve encountered so far. The walls are made of smooth, polished black stone, unnervingly pristine, as though untouched by time. A chill hangs in the air, making your breath mist as you step forward. It’s not the cold of winter, but something more—an unnatural, necrotic cold that seems to cling to your skin and sap the warmth from your bones.

In the center of the room, bathed in a faint, sickly violet glow, stands a massive obsidian pedestal. Atop it rests a large, dark crystal, pulsing slowly with an unsettling light. The crystal’s glow seems almost alive, throbbing like a heartbeat, and the air around it feels dense, as though the very atmosphere is being drawn into the crystal’s dark, swirling depths.

Shadows gather around the crystal, flickering unnaturally. You can feel its pull—there is power here, something immense and ancient, but there’s a malevolent presence tied to it. The faint hum of dark magic vibrates in the air, growing louder the closer you get, a warning of the dangers within.

The walls are bare, except for faint markings at the edges of the room—arcane runes etched into the stone, barely visible beneath a layer of dust. These runes pulse with faint energy, creating a perimeter around the pedestal. Something tells you that these runes are not just for decoration—they are part of a much larger magical system designed to contain or control whatever power resides within the crystal.

Lying scattered across the floor are the remnants of past adventurers—burnt-out torches, abandoned tools, and charred skeletal remains. Their bones, blackened and twisted, are a grim reminder of those who sought the power of this vault and failed. Some of the corpses are reaching out toward the crystal, their final act one of desperation.

 
 Spoiler 

DC 14 Arcana Check:
The players sense dark necromantic energy radiating from the crystal. It is tied to a powerful entity, possibly a Shadow Demon or Wraith, that is imprisoned within. Disturbing the crystal without deactivating the protective wards will release this creature.
 
Ilerien
The drow treaded carefully, eyeing the crystal atop the pedestal. She felt it, the chill of the grave, somehow both familiar and oppressive. She narrowed her eyes and grasped reflexively at the tiny silver representation of a woman's hand adorned with rings hanging from her neck.

 
 Spoiler: OOC 
Knowledge (arcana)  (1d20+8)[ 19 ]  to gather the overall impression.
Spellcraft  (1d20+12)[ 22 ]  to identify the protective runes.
 

Something unliving was held there by a magic circle, and pretty powerful at it. Filfaerre opened her mouth to share her insight into this room with the others - and then realized the salvatory dome of silence was still with them. She sighed inaudibly and gestured to Lan to dispel it.

 
 Spoiler: Statblock 
 
   Filfaerre Rostarr   
Female lesser drow duskblade 5 / cloistered cleric 1
CN Medium humanoid (elf)
 Init  2,  Senses  darkvision 70 ft, Listen 2, Spot 2
 HP  35/49 (6 HD),  Speed  30 ft
 AC  19,  Touch  12,  Flat-footed  17 (+2 Dex, +7 armor)
 Fort  9,  Ref  6,  Will  8,  BAB  5,  Grapple  9
 Melee   +1 falchion  +10 (2d4+6 +1d6 acid/18-20)
 Ranged   mw composite longbow  +8 (1d8+4/x3)
 Abilities  Str 18, Dex 14, Con 14, Int 14, Wis 12, Cha 8
 Spellcasting  duskblade CL 5th DC 12+, cleric CL 1st DC 11+
 Conditions &amp; effects : none
 
Xav
      
      Cassius Mournflow     
 Shadowcaster 
 AC: 18 (13 T/15 FF) 
 HP: 27/31 
 Spot: +9 
 Initiative: +3 
 Conditions: -  
 
  

Cassius moved smoothly and patiently, even though the sphere of silence, surrounding him, drowned out all sound. He also made sure his speed matched that of the others, who, as far as the man could tell, were doing the same. Fortunately, the brief argues that arose at the beginning of their journey didn't affect their ability to coordinate too much.

And their caution paid off. Next chamber was disturbing. Cassius, who had some experience with encounters with otherworldly entities, gloomed and, finding no runes associated with sonic influence around, suggested with gestures to remove the sphere of silence.

The runes, meanwhile, captured his attention, as they were obviously connected with the crystal or it's defensive system, and the man began to examine them. Carefully, trying not to disturb the local guardian, who, as he guessed, could be really terrifying.

 
 Spoiler: OOC 

 (1d20+13)[ 23 ]  - Knowledge: Arcana - examining the runes
 (1d20+14)[ 32 ]  - Spellcraft - trying to find out, how to disarm the runes
 
Cygnia
There was  power  in that gem.  Even one lacking the magical arts such as Shank could feel it.  He started to ask if this was what that damnable beholder wanted from their trek into this annoying dungeon...

...and nothing came out.
Postmodernist
Lan glanced at his companions, and sensed their collective frustration at the silence, and dismissed it. The first audible sound in the room was of the whisper gnome's sigh.

 "... I'll check for traps. Again." 
 
 Spoiler: OOC 
 Search:   (1d20+14)[ 34 ]  Lan is gonna remain as unobtrusive as possible while the scholars puzzle this one out.
 
Ilerien
   - Be careful,    - the sellsword issued a warning the moment she regained her speech.    - Whatever this volatile crystal holds is dangerous. The wards are here to release the entity if the crystal is disturbed.   
 
 Spoiler: Statblock 
 
   Filfaerre Rostarr   
Female lesser drow duskblade 5 / cloistered cleric 1
CN Medium humanoid (elf)
 Init  2,  Senses  darkvision 70 ft, Listen 2, Spot 2
 HP  35/49 (6 HD),  Speed  30 ft
 AC  19,  Touch  12,  Flat-footed  17 (+2 Dex, +7 armor)
 Fort  9,  Ref  6,  Will  8,  BAB  5,  Grapple  9
 Melee   +1 falchion  +10 (2d4+6 +1d6 acid/18-20)
 Ranged   mw composite longbow  +8 (1d8+4/x3)
 Abilities  Str 18, Dex 14, Con 14, Int 14, Wis 12, Cha 8
 Spellcasting  duskblade CL 5th DC 12+, cleric CL 1st DC 11+
 Conditions &amp; effects : none
 
BelGareth
Your careful, precise work around the crystal finally pays off. As you complete the last adjustment, the faint glow in the runes fades completely, leaving only the dim, eerie pulse of the crystal itself. The oppressive energy that had filled the room dissipates, leaving a momentary calm in its wake.

Then, the crystal’s light shifts. The sickly violet glow softens, becoming almost tranquil, and a warm aura flows outward from the crystal. The darkness retreats, and you feel a surge of renewed strength and clarity as its power washes over you.

With the trap safely disabled and the room secure, you spot a smaller doorway at the back of the vault, leading deeper into the dungeon. Beyond it, you hear the faint sound of something stirring—a reminder that your final challenge still lies ahead.

 
 Spoiler 

Boon, you receive 1d8 temp hit points that last 1 hour. (please roll yourselves)
 


 


As you pass through the doorway at the back of the Obsidian Vault, you find yourselves in a large, circular chamber. The air here is thick with dust, and the floor is covered with cracked stone tiles, littered with scraps of old, discarded armor, rusted weapons, and remnants of adventurers who came before. The scent of decay mingles with a faint, metallic tang that clings to the back of your throat.

At the far side of the chamber, a faintly shimmering portal glows with an eerie light, the only clear path out of this forsaken place. Relief might start to settle over you… until a sound cuts through the silence—a low, wet squelch followed by the shifting of heavy, sodden debris.

Out of the shadows and piles of trash at the edge of the room, a hulking figure begins to rise. Bits of old leather and cloth fall away, and you see it more clearly: a grotesque amalgamation of flesh and sinew, patchworked together from various humanoid parts. Thick, mismatched limbs hang from a torso stitched together with crude, rusting wire, while a single, milky eye stares out from beneath a mass of coarse hair. The creature’s face twists into a grimace, its jaw slack and drooling as it lumbers forward, dripping with filth.

This is a Flesh Golem, an abomination crafted for one purpose: to test the mettle of those who survive this gauntlet. The creature’s mouth opens in a silent scream as it lurches toward you, each step squelching as it crushes scraps and bones beneath its feet.

The portal waits behind it, but this hulking brute stands between you and freedom. There is no going back now. It’s time to prove yourselves once and for all.

 
 Spoiler 

Everyone roll Init, once we've gone through everyone it will turn into block initiative.
  Flesh golem init  - (1d20-1)[ 15 ] 
 Map 
 
Xav
      
      Cassius Mournflow     
 Shadowcaster 
 AC: 18 (13 T/15 FF) 
 HP: 27/31 +2 Temp HP 
 Spot: +9 
 Initiative: +3 
 Conditions: -  
 
  

Cassius entered the next room cautiously, wondering what the beholder had prepared as another test. And expectations were not deceived - seeing the rising mountain of flesh, the man was stunned for a moment, however, immediately identifying the features of the creature, he spoke:

 - All right. I want to tell you two things. First, it must be vulnerable to fire and cold. Such attacks should slow it. Secondly, it's immune to magic, thus, my abilities are absolutely powerless against him. 

Still, even though Cassius couldn't participate in the fight directly, he decided at least to search through the area, in case, there is some mechanism, that disables the golem.

 
 Spoiler: OOC 

(1d20+3)[5] - Initiative
(1d8)[2] - Thp
(1d20+13)[31] - Knowledge: Arcana

I command familiar to fly and look for anything, that can be used manually (levers, mechanisms, devices and such), avoiding the golem. And I myself move towards the darkest area, counting on the ring of Darkhidden, and also avoiding the golem. I really can't contribute to the fight (golem is immune to both of my attacks), so I just search for something helpful.
If the golem rushes to me, I use Flicker.
 
Cygnia
The urge to rush into battle was tempered by Shank's need for information.  He gave a curt nod at Cassius' statement.     "CAN THAT PORTAL BE USED WHILE THIS ENEMY IS STILL ACTIVE THOUGH?  ARE THEY LINKED?"     Yes, it was in the way -- but if it could be slowed down enough, then perhaps they could avoid it long enough to outmaneuver such a foe and just escape through the portal without engaging in a lengthy, dangerous fight.
Starbuck_II
 "Cold freezes it, you say? Well, watch this, In brightest day, in blackest night, Beware my power, In brightest night, in blackest day, no evil shall escape my sight. Fharlanghn might, DarkBolt! "
 
Grunkin casts his few offensive spells, waving his hands and blasting the thing.
Then Daren charges with his axe to attack

 
 Spoiler 

 (1d20+5)[ 17 ]  vs Touch AC
 (3d8)[ 16 ]  Half is cold damage

Grunkin casts DarkBolt  1d8 points of damage per two caster levels (3d8) Dam (Range 40 ft, Range touch, 1/2 Cold, other half untyped, Fort partial (save prevents stun not damage), stun 1 rd, SR Yes) ; DC 16 Fort Save

Daren Attk
 (1d20+12)[ 31 ] 
 (3d6+7)[ 19 ] 
 
Postmodernist
 "This is gonna suck, guys"  Lan mutters to his animal and aberration companions,  "spread out! Magic bad, fire and cold good. Got it."  Lan casts a glance at Grumblesnoot, nods to the eastern side of the room, and pushes a sharp whistle through his teeth.  "Go left, Toejam,"  he says, ushering the otyugh to the west. Lan himself moves in, steeling himself for combat.

 
 Spoiler: OOC 

All three will move into the room, preparing to set up a flank and spreading out.
Swift action: Lan will adopt Island of Blades.
Standard action: Full defense for everyone.
  IF   this is gonna 100% clog the entryway, then I'll reluctantly have the team double move into position, then, instead of full defense.

 Note:  So, my weapon hits with both fire and lightning. I was worried that would be a problem with this guy, but since it only deals 1 point of damage each, it just neutralizes itself. 1 fire point causes  slow,  and 1 lightning point cancels it. The 1 damage doesn't have the healing rider effect, as it's too low. Does that sound about right?
 

 
 Spoiler: Statblock 

   Lannan (Lan) Cobbletoss   
M CN Whisper Gnome Ranger 4/Warblade 1/Beast Heart Adept 1,  Level  6,  Init  3,  HP  55 (+5 temp)/59,  Speed  30
 AC  20,  Touch  14,  Flat-footed  17,  Fort  11,  Ref  9,  Will  7,  Base Attack Bonus  6
 Hizagkuur: counts as silver, +1 elec +1 fire +1 Hizagkuur gnome hooked hammer "Blazespark" (-)   8/3 (or 6/6/1 TWF) (1d6+2+1+1/1d4+2+1+1, x3/x4)
   Shortbow (20)   +10 (d4, x3)
 Activate for concealment Mithralmist Chain shirt ,    MW Dastana  (+5 Armor, +1 Shield, +3 Dex, +1 Size)
 Abilities  Str 12, Dex 16, Con 16, Int 14, Wis 12, Cha 10
 Condition  None
 
BelGareth
 Combat Round 1 

Grunks bolt is true, striking the golem in it's chest, but the magic fizzles and pops, doing nothing the golem. Darren charges and slices deep into the golem.

Then the Golem returns the attacks to Darren.

 
 Spoiler 

Moving this along

5ft step and full attack Daren
  Slam 1  - (1d20+10)[ 27 ] 
  Damage  - (2d8+5)[ 12 ]  - bludgeoning damage

  Slam 2  - (1d20+10)[ 14 ] 
  Damage  - (2d8+5)[ 13 ]  - bludgeoning damage

Everyone is up.

 Map 
 
Ilerien
  Of course I would be fighting a construct warded against magic.  

Filfaerre whispered a quick prayer to her goddess, asking for her guidance and the strength of will to overcome the challenge. A smile crept upon her face. She spat out a short incantation with a half-circle move of her left hand - and ran to the left, circling the golem.

    - Hey you, waste of parts, come, get me,     - she shouted a challenge, being completely aware the golem wasn't going to understand her, and assumed the two-handed fighting stance.

 
 Spoiler: OOC 
Pre-combat: initiative roll (1d20+2)[ 14 ], knowledge devotion (1d20+8)[ 13 ] (i.e. +1 to attack and damage), temp HP (1d8)[ 1 ].

Swift action: activate chaos devotion  (1d6)[ 1 ]  - i.e. profane +1 to her attack bonus until her next turn (then she has to roll again to see what benefit applies).
Standard action: cast  shield .
Move action: move to C7.
 

 
 Spoiler: Statblock 
 
   Filfaerre Rostarr   
Female lesser drow duskblade 5 / cloistered cleric 1
CN Medium humanoid (elf)
 Init  2,  Senses  darkvision 70 ft, Listen 2, Spot 2
 HP  46/49 (6 HD), THP 1  Speed  30 ft
 AC  23,  Touch  12,  Flat-footed  21 (+2 Dex, +7 armor, +4 shield)
 Fort  9,  Ref  6,  Will  8,  BAB  5,  Grapple  9
 Melee   +1 falchion  +11 (2d4+6 +1d6 acid/18-20)
 Ranged   mw composite longbow  +9 (1d8+4/x3)
 Abilities  Str 18, Dex 14, Con 14, Int 14, Wis 12, Cha 8
 Spellcasting  duskblade CL 5th DC 12+, cleric CL 1st DC 11+
 Conditions &amp; effects : knowledge devotion (constructs) +1, chaos devotion +1 to attacks,  shield , crystal boon
 
Cygnia
Unlike the drow, Shank kept as silent as a panther as he stalked into the chamber.  No need to waste goading words on the automaton.  More importantly, in Shank's mind it was better that the golem's focus on was on the mindless zombie rather than someone actually sentient.  Still, he readied himself for an opening to flank on the flesh golem's other side.     AT LEAST IT IS UNARMED....   
 
 Spoiler: Action 

Move to J7
 Expeditious Dodge  is in play (When you move 40 feet or more in a single turn, you gain a +2 dodge bonus to your Armor Class until the beginning of your next turn.)
 

 
 Spoiler: Statblock 

   Shank Bleakscar   
M LE Spiker Fighter2/Swashbuckler3/Dervish1,  Level  6,  Init  4,  HP  56/50,  DR  2/piercing or slashing,  Speed  40
 AC  23,  Touch  17,  Flat-footed  19,  Fort  8,  Ref  9,  Will  4,  Base Attack Bonus  6/1
 Finessable Scimitar +1   +13/8 (1d6+5, 18-20/x2)
 Finessable Scimitar +1   +13/8 (1d6+5, 18-20/x2)
 Finessable Armor spikes (natural)   +10/5 (1d4+4, x2)
   Mithral Shirt +1  (+5 Armor, +4 Dex, +1 Natural, +1 Misc)
 Abilities  Str 13, Dex 18, Con 12, Int 16, Wis 10, Cha 10
 Condition  • Damage reduction  2/piercing or slashing: A spiker’s spiny skin grants resistance to bludgeoning attacks, though piercing or slashing attacks slip through normally.
Resistance to acid 5
Darkvision 60ft
 
Postmodernist
The gnome begins whirling his hooked hammer, a spinning flurry trailing sparks and bursts of static electricity with each rotation. He advances towards the flesh-stitched monstrosity, ducking and weaving while maintaining the whooshing flow of his weapon before him. Lan presses his tongue into the lower right corner of his mouth against his teeth, and a pair of clicks sound in the room, spurring Toejam and and Grumblesnoot into a coordinated charge maneuver, all three descending on the monstrosity simultaneously.

 
 Spoiler: OOC 

Companions wait for Lan to get into position first, ensuring the flank. They then charge (+2 attack, -2 AC). Lan simply moves and attacks.

Lan to H7 (let me know if any tumbling is required)
Toejam to D7 (he has reach)
Grumblesnoot to H6

Lan, benefits from flanking and Knowledge Devotion.  (1d20+12)[ 24 ]  for  (1d6+6)[ 8 ]  damage (one point is fire, one point is lightning).
Toejam: tentacle attack:  (1d20+8)[ 25 ]  for  (1d6)[ 5 ] 
Grumblesnoot: claw:  (1d20+10)[ 22 ]  for  (1d4+2)[ 5 ] 
Here's hoping any of this makes it through the DR. ☹️
 
Xav
      
      Cassius Mournflow     
 Shadowcaster 
 AC: 18 (13 T/15 FF) 
 HP: 27/31 +2 Temp HP 
 Spot: +9 
 Initiative: +3 
 Conditions: -  
 
  

Cassius just continues to move around the battlefield together with his familiar, searching for possible useful findings, that could be helpful in this combat.

 
 Spoiler: OOC 

 https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets...it?gid=0#gid=0 

All the same
I command familiar to fly and look for anything, that can be used manually (levers, mechanisms, devices and such), avoiding the golem. And I myself move towards the darkest area, counting on the ring of Darkhidden, and also avoiding the golem. I really can't contribute to the fight (golem is immune to both of my attacks), so I just search for something helpful.
If the golem rushes to me, I use Flicker.
 
Starbuck_II
Grunkin moves closer and cast bless from a scroll while his minion keeps hacking with his axe, but flanking at least

 
 Spoiler 

Status: All party members- Blessed +1 morale hit/fear saves
Been fighting this cold, so energy levels to type were low so delayed doing this.

Daren
 (1d20+12)[ 19 ]  since undead can't benefit from Morale bonuses
 (3d6+7)[ 15 ] 
 
BelGareth
It was quickly evident that the group was more than capable of handling the flesh golem. With Daren taking the brunt of the creature’s attacks, the rest of the party worked together seamlessly, their combined efforts proving to be more than a match for the grotesque construct. Strikes landed true, spells burned bright, and coordinated tactics overwhelmed the lumbering abomination.

As the final blow landed, the golem staggered backward, its patchwork frame unraveling. With a sickening squelch, its grisly parts collapsed into a heap of limbs and torsos, slinking back onto the floor like a grotesque menagerie of discarded body parts. The room fell silent, save for the faint hum of the portal at the far end.

The shimmering portal grew brighter, pulsing in time with the faint energy lingering from the fight. Stepping through, you felt a strange, weightless sensation as you were pulled from the dungeon’s depths and back into the presence of your employer—the Great and Mighty Orblesk.

Hovering in his lair, Orblesk’s central eye fixed on you as his eyestalks twitched with what could only be described as intrigue. His mouth curled into a small, knowing smile as he spoke, his heavy Russian accent deliberate and calm.

 "Ah, my dear comrades, you return in one piece. I must admit, zis is better than I expected. You are, how do you say, capable. It is good to see I have chosen wisely." 

He floated closer, his gaze sweeping across the group as though assessing a rare piece of art.  "But you should know zis: survival alone does not impress me. Zis was a mere… introduction. Ze first of many tests. And yet, you have performed well. For now." 

After a brief pause, his central eye narrowed ever so slightly, a flicker of calculation crossing his expression.  "But I do not bring you here to bask in my praise, da? Zere is always work to be done. A task for those who seek to repay zeir debts." 

With a subtle gesture from one of his eyestalks, a crude map hovered into view, depicting a section of the Briar Maze. He pointed to a marked location with another stalk.

 "Zis warehouse,"  he began, his voice steady and measured,  "belongs to someone who… interferes with my interests. Zey operate without my consent. Zis is unacceptable. Before I act, I require information. Who zey are. What zey want. How zey operate. You will go to zis place, observe, and return with what you learn. Do not engage. Precision is everything."
 
Orblesk’s smile grew faintly as his eyestalks withdrew.  "Do zis for me, and we shall continue zis… mutually beneficial arrangement. I do not make zis offer lightly. But fail, and, well… let us not discuss unpleasant possibilities, da?" 

With your first assignment given, the stakes could not be clearer. The weight of Orblesk’s expectations pressed heavily upon you as you prepared to leave, the faint sense of unease lingering as the door to the lair opened, beckoning you into the maze of Thornhold once more.
Ilerien
The drow inhaled a lungful of perpetual stench of the Briar Maze.    A surprisingly adept group.   
   - Ah, decay. The true flavor of this city. Never leaving the streets even in the light of day,    - she glanced upwards briefly, held her gaze for a couple of moments and lowered her eyes - every skyward glance, while uncomfortable, made them that much abler to withstand daylight.    - So. We got a genuine job after all. And a reconnaisance one at that,    - she glanced at Cassius, then at Lan.
Cygnia
   "IT WOULD BEHOOVE US TO FIND OUT WHO IS THE OWNER OF THIS PARTICULAR WAREHOUSE..."     Shank boomed.     "THAT MAY INVOLVE TWO THINGS I LACK -- SUBTLETY AND KNOWLEDGE OF BUREAUCRACY."   

Of course, whoever was listed might very well be a decoy identity.
Postmodernist
Lan nodded.  "I'm happy to keep a low profile and do some snooping, but I suspect the lads,  he gestured to Grumblesnoot and Toejam, " "won't be much help for talking." 
Starbuck_II
Grunkin laughs,  "Maybe they can try interpretive dance"  
Postmodernist
The otyugh extended an eyestalk toward the duergar.  "Dance?"  it asked. It turned to face him, a wide grin splitting the mass of its body, began to waddle back and forth, waving its tentacles about enthusiastically. Grunkin could smell the creature's fetid breath, even from a distance of several yards. Lan pat the aberration on its flank.  "Not now, buddy."  The creature calmed itself, though it slumped forward in disappointment. The oversized badger grunted, rolling its eyes at the pair.

 "I say we try and come at this warehouse from the sewers if possible, and take a look from below. We could also set up a stakeout nearby, watch who comes and goes. Aren't some of you spellcasters? One of you could surely magic us up a divination or two. Let's observe for a tenday, then make our move. We can make any other preparations in the interim. Unless, of course, Lord Orblesk needs this information sooner, in which case the job will be messier." 

Lan looked at the misfits assembled for this job. He sighed.  "Any other bright ideas?" 
Ilerien
Filfaerre cocked her head, thinking.

   - He specifically wants to avoid any mess for now, though take a wild guess who's going to be the hit squad when Oblesk moves against the owner of that warehouse. I say we take time to gather intelligence. Stakeouts to see who goes there and what wares are brought in and out. Your pet, Lan, wouldn't cause any undue suspicion in the sewers. The official Thornhold authorities might know something, and gold opens doors,    - she said and chuckled.    - Looks like no bright ideas from me in the end.   
Starbuck_II
 "If we were to purchase, a divine scroll of Scry, that would help, assuming it succeeded. I would be able to see and hear around the owner, assuming he is in the building we would see something important.

I can also cast Augury and Divination, but the chance while high can fail, Augury is limited to actions that happen within half an hour, but Divination last up to a week for a question.

It feels like we may have to talk to people if we really want to do this." 
Grunkin said more thinking out loud than telling
Cygnia
   "I HAVE A DISTINCT APPEARANCE. IF I MUST INTERACT WITH OTHER HUMANOIDS IN ORDER TO GAIN INFORMATION, ARE ANY OF YOU CAPABLE OF CASTING ANY SORT OF GLAMER UPON MY PERSONAGE IN ORDER NOT TO DRAW UNDUE ATTENTION BACK TO OUR...'EMPLOYER'?"    Shank said that last word with a hint of dismay.
BelGareth
The group found yourselves amidst the choking stench of the Briar Maze, the lifeblood of Thornhold's underbelly. Shadows danced across crumbling walls, and the ever-present miasma of decay clung to the air. The hum of the city above and below served as a constant reminder of the layers of life—and death—that made up this sprawling maze.

The target was simple in theory but layered in complication: a warehouse nestled deep within the district, a hub of activity for Orblesk’s competition. Reconnaissance was the task. Answers, not action—for now. The need for precision rang in your ears, a direct command from your employer, the Great and Mighty Orblesk.

Around you, the chaos of Thornhold churned on: merchants bartering loudly for trade in dubious goods, laborers hauling unmarked crates into dimly lit buildings, and the faint sounds of subterranean life echoing from below. The streets were a tapestry of danger, opportunity, and secrecy—a perfect backdrop for your task.

The warehouse itself loomed like a dark sentinel over its surroundings, its structure sturdy but weathered. The alleyways nearby teemed with life, and its proximity to the sewers hinted at a connection beneath. It was a fortress hiding in plain sight, waiting to reveal its secrets to those bold or foolish enough to probe.

As you navigate the maze of streets, you pass a ramshackle storefront illuminated by flickering, greenish light. A tattered sign reads  "Madra’s Mystical Wares—No Refunds!"  Inside, a hunched figure haggles loudly with a customer, while shelves groan under the weight of mismatched scrolls and dubious charms. Among the offerings, you spot a scroll marked with the sigil for divination magic—a potential tool for scrying, though the quality of its enchantment may be as questionable as the store’s cleanliness.

Not far from the warehouse stands a noisy, low-ceilinged inn whose worn sign reads  "The Gutter’s Respite" . Patrons spill out into the alley, their faces flush with drink, their laughter tinged with the sharp edge of Thornhold’s humor. A few workers, identifiable by the soot and grime on their clothes, speak in hushed tones as they pass coins to a bouncer standing just outside. Their conversation turns toward the warehouse, and it’s clear this is a frequent haunt for those who work nearby.

Across the narrow street from the warehouse, a bakery exhales the rare scent of fresh bread into the otherwise rank air of the Briar Maze. Above it, a small apartment with cracked shutters offers an unobstructed view of the warehouse’s entrance. The baker owes Orblesk a favor—his nervous demeanor when he spots your group suggests he hasn’t forgotten. A few words and a reminder of his debt might secure the use of this vantage point for a stakeout.

On the side of the street nearest the bakery, a rusted grate offers access to Thornhold’s labyrinthine sewer system. The cover is scratched and bent, with stains hinting at recent use. A faint smell wafts up, unmistakably foul, but the marks around the grate suggest that something—or someone—frequents this path. Below lies a network of unseen routes and dangers, but also an opportunity to monitor activity from beneath.
Postmodernist
The gnome drew some coins from his purse, counting them as they plinked into his palm. The gimmer caught Grumblesnoot's attention, and the badger snuffled at Lan's shoulder. Toejam tried to extend its eyetalks out of the window, but retreated when Lan shot him a stern look. The creature moved to the corner of the apartment, breathing the pleasant smell of warm bread.

 "I've got... twenty-eight gold I can contribute to the scroll fund if we're looking. I'm skint after that. I still want to check the sewers, but let's save that for tonight, and run some errands today. Besides, I could use a drink after that flesh golem. We go in, maybe act as laborers looking for work, seeing what's out there. Maybe the warehouse comes up. It doesn't have to be too complicated. Let's not make it complicated. Anybody who doesn't want to or can't come,"  he looks at the otyugh,  "can watch the warehouse from the window." 

Lan rubbed Grumblesnoot's fur, much to the creature's irritation, and patted Toejam's flanks affectionately.  "I'll be back later, guys."  With that, the gnome made ready to descend into the Briar Maze.

 
 Spoiler: OOC 
Lan will order Toejam to keep an eyestalk on the warehouse while they're out running errands. I suggest we hit the shop first, then the bar, then sewers at night, with a scrying preparation?
 