Adriana: The Mine

[Flora Meadowsweet]

(Rolls carried))

... where the sounds are coming from is where they have to go ... Dwellers ... working down the right path [#1] ... Left path [#2] leads to where the survivors are ...

He tries to signal which path they will need and steps up near Flora so that he can move near the head of the line ((Prowl 82%: 1d100 )), "Kill anything that gets through the cloud to the Intersection, follow after the other get across"

Flora shifts her weight, her axe held ready as Tyral points to the right path. She's already anticipating the rush, the feel of her axes chopping into chitin and bone. When Tyral moves closer with his idea, she listens intently.

"What does the cloud do? Does it melt faces?" she whispers, her voice barely audible to anyone beyond the elf. Her eyes tell the elf she's clearly more interested in its destructive capabilities than its precise magical workings.

She plants herself firmly at the tunnel entrance, every muscle coiled, her eyes gleaming in the dim light. A single, fervent thought dominates her mind: Please, oh please, let something come out of that cloud trying to kill me. A savage grin stretches across her face. Oh gods, I really want to whack something.


---
OOC: No. I'm not done yet.
---

After about four heartbeats, Flora's patience, always a thin veneer, completely evaporates. With a shrug that speaks volumes of her boredom, she strides directly into the shimmering gas cloud. She takes a deep, deliberate breath, then another, and a look of drug-addicted connoisseur-like appreciation spreads across her face. "This is good stuff!" she whispers, an evil grin splitting her features as the gas seems to have no ill effect on her. "Oh yeah. I like it."

Without another moment's hesitation, she stalks into the gas-filled Dweller tunnel, every fiber of her being focused on finding Dwellers to kill.

Save vs Magic: 1d20+6: [18]+6 = 24

[Khorv]

OOC Comments

Perception: 21% (+5)) / 1d100: [2] = 2
JIC: 1d20: [16] = 16 / 1d100: [90] = 90
+2 v HF, +2 v Lethal/Non-lethal Toxins, +10% vs Coma/Death, +2 vs Magic, +1 vs Insanity, +1 vs Psionics (10+)

HP: 25/25
SDC: 35/35
PPE: 69/82
ISP: 71/86
Armor: Leather of Iron AR: 15 SDC: 60
Nightvision 60’
Sixth Sense – Always On
Sustain: [10 Days (No Need for Food/Water/Air, 2 hrs Sleep/Night)]
Armor of Ithan: 3 Minutes AR: 18 SDC: 130
Enhanced Reflexes: 6 Minutes
Climb: 15 Minutes 98% Skill

Dragonese/Elven
Human: Eastern
Dwarven

Tyral emerges from the Tunnel, counts to make sure their whole party has made it through, looks down in exasperation at the dust now all over his nice robe, and surveys where they have emerged.

Khorv emerges from the tunnel and looks back to make sure Trask has made it out and not covered himself in oil.

Looking back at the group Khorv notices some using their hands to dust off their armor and looks at his own. He begins to lift his hand to magically cleanse himself, but pauses. Better save the energy just in case. But a hot bath and washing of equipment is in order after this.

After about four heartbeats, Flora's patience, always a thin veneer, completely evaporates. With a shrug that speaks volumes of her boredom, she strides directly into the shimmering gas cloud. She takes a deep, deliberate breath, then another, and a look of drug-addicted connoisseur-like appreciation spreads across her face. "This is good stuff!" she whispers, an evil grin splitting her features as the gas seems to have no ill effect on her. "Oh yeah. I like it."

Without another moment's hesitation, she stalks into the gas-filled Dweller tunnel, every fiber of her being focused on finding Dwellers to kill.

Khorv grunts as he watches Flora foolishly enter the gas, if a little impressed at her resilience. I don’t care if she gets herself killed, but stuff like this is going to get one of us killed when it eventually doesn’t work out.

Khorv moves up by Tyral for a moment as he issues commands. ”I was going to ask if you wanted someone to stay with her as back up, maybe a longbow to snipe, but I guess that is moot." When the rest are dusted and ready Khorv gestures with a hand a hint of humor in his voice. " Lead the way, Commander.”


Land Navigation (57%): 1d100: [23] = 23
Prowl (60%): 1d100: [89] = 89

[Mürrischer Reisender]

Perception 1d100: [9] = 9 /46%
JiC 1d20: [5] = 5 / 1d100: [99] = 99
Conditions: Keen hearing, Nightvision: 40 feet
Languages:
Wolfen
Elven/Dragon
Eastern Human

Virtually crawling through the tunnel clearly not carved for anyone of his size, the Wolfen sucks it up and pushes forward; likely not a pleasant sight for anyone looking into the tunnel. He doesn't realize this nor really care he may look like a hulking beast coming to eat them in a tunnel too small for him to pass through with any speed were it not for Tyral's magic.

On the other side of the tunnel, when he can straighten up again, Mürrischer inhales and earthy, mildy wet sounding snort that hopefully isn't heard to deep into the tunnel system, the scrunch of his muzzle telling a tale of a sneeze eaten in the attempt to escape.

After his sinuses are cleared he smells a scent he recognizes but doesn't entirely remember what it was called if he was told what it was called then. It was kind of sweet to smell with a feint bitterness that doesn't dissuade a potential consumer. He asks without elaboration, "Am I the only one to smell dat?"

As he ponders on the scent, his heard and face twists with a migraine pain as he tries painfully hard to remember anything he heard about the smell of chocolate in the tunnel.

Use/Recognize poison: 1d100: [87] = 87 /50% To recognize if the smell of chocolate means poison in the tunnel.
Total Recall to remember if he heard the smell of chocolate meant they were getting close to the root tte Dwellers so dearly sought. [2 ISP. / 1d100: [94] = 94 Percentile chance to remember.]

Of course she shoots off... He watches Flora continue on to be the first to confront the Dwellers without much, if any planning. He tries his best to not be the loudest thing in the tunnel, taking more cautious steps and being more sunken to the earth to be a smaller item to pick out as he near-instinctively reaches for his bow to be ready for when the Dwellers inevitably come their way and whispers, "Do we have a attack plan?"
Prowl: 1d100: [39] = 39 /50%

[Tyral]

Perception [74%]: 1d100: [31] = 31
D20 JiC: 1d20: [9] = 9
D100 JiC: 1d100: [78] = 78

PPE: 163/235 -6 = 157
Wand PPE: 50/50
SDC: 43/43
HP: 54/54

Conditions: Nightvision: 60', Spell Strength of 15, Speaks Eastern unless Noted, AR 14 [Ironhide Ring], Sustain [10 Days], Lantern Light (50 Watts, 130 Minutes(!) ... in a bag)

---

Tyral watches Flora surge into the enchanted cloud with consternation and glances over to Khorv and Murri in succession, "Brago smells it, whatever it is. Not sure exactly its nature. Not really room to stand up straight and fire a longbow down that other way ... maybe a sling or a crossbow. It seems Flora wants to kill some Dwellers over finding the lost ... her perogative I suppose. Brago and I will be heading this other way up to Piotin's crew, save who we can as the employers indicated. Not chasing after ... our Axe-Centric Gnome. She will find her way when ready."

He watches Flora vanishing and ponders, **Hmmmm Might not be as much of a bulwark as I hoped. Should I drop a Field of Fear spell in there too? Or Immobilize? ... Those have persistent effects and will hit anyone coming through for a while ... but no, then Flora might end up frozen while giant bug things chew on her ...**

He decides to let the Cloud of Slumber act as a backup to Flora instead of vice versa, ** Hope she is able to resist the effects on her way back through from the other way as well ...**

He then heads up the tunnel with whomever follows in-tow, but at least the 2 guides.

[Khorv]

(Rolls Carry Over)

He asks without elaboration, "Am I the only one to smell dat?"

From his bent position, trying not to hit his head on the cavern ceiling, Khorv looks at Murri with sympathy. All I smell is dust, my own body odor, and wet dog. Probably shouldn't mention that.

As Tyral leads the way Khorv takes his position towards the back, looking to see if Trask has chosen to follow. He does pause a bit before passing beyond the intersection. If Flora could brush off the spell effects so easily, I wonder what the dwellers can do. With that he gestures and overlays a billowing cloud of smoke

PPE: 2
Range: 90’ (27.4m)
Duration: 1 minute per level
Saving Throw: None
Description: This magic enables the arcanist to create a cloud of dense, black smoke (30x30x30 foot maximum size) up to ninety feet (27.4 m) away. Victims caught in the cloud will be unable to see anything beyond it, and their vision is impaired; they can see no more than three feet (0.9 m) in front of them (and those images are only blurry shapes unless within one foot/0.3 m). While in the cloud, victims will be -5 to strike, and -9 to parry and dodge.

over the spell Tyral produced. Hopefully that will help deter any enemies.

Feeling a bit more secure Khorv turns and begins following the mage again.

[Tolliver Trask]

Perception: 1d100: [46] = 46 /65%
Just in Case: 1d20: [4] = 4 , 1d100: [26] = 26
Conditions: Sixth Sense (Inactive), Ambidextrous, Resistant to Cold (Soupcon; 1/2 damage from Cold based attacks), Nightvision (90 min).

HP: 57/57
S.D.C.: 71/71
I.S.P.: 41/51
P.P.E.: 10/10
Armor: Splint Mail AR: 16; 82/82; -15% Prowl, Spd reduced by 20%
Tower Shield of the Hex Indestructible

Prowl 1d100: [91] = 91 /67% Failure (To move quietly through the tunnel.)
Climb/Scale Walls 1d100: [76] = 76 /95% Success (To move easily through the tunnel.)
Blind Fighting 1d100: [18] = 18 /25% Success (To move in the dark)

Once the light goes out, Trask slows down, but doesn't stop moving forward. Hard for humans to work in the dark.[/b] Even with his Psionic Nightvision, Trask finds it too dark. That seems to matter little to the old mercenary as he just switches to other skills he's learned in his long storied past. Hopefully this tunnel opens up soon, all this crawling is hell on the knees. Trask inwardly grumps.

[Flora Meadowsweet]

((Rolls carried))

When the already dim tunnel plunges into absolute, inky blackness Flora's nightvision may well give out. Yet, she doesn't pause. She continues her silent, predatory stalk forward, her magical boots absorbing every whisper of sound, every trace of scent.

Just like old times, she thinks, a grim satisfaction settling over her. She's not stranger to fighting in this kind of black, against dwarves and worse in the deep. Her kin, those barbaric gnomish killers, always hunted alone in such darkness. That was the plan: douse all the lights and enjoy the blind melee that follows. Her grip tightens on her axes. Hope some dolt from the party isn't creeping along behind me. She listens for that, and a flicker of amusement, dark and cold, crosses her mind. In which case, I suppose I could say 'Oops', or say the bugs ate him. Inwardly, her other senses sharpen, her body already anticipating the fight. They're here somewhere, she thinks. If I bump into anything insecty I'll smack it hard.

Blind Fighting 47%: 1d100: [22] = 22

[Asher]

Perception 21%: d100: [88] = 88
JIC: d20: [5] = 5 , d100: [67] = 67

Wilderness Survival 55%: d100: [19] = 19
Prowl (Not skilled): d100: [58] = 58

Despite his seemingly confident demeanor, Asher is nervous. My combat skills are adequate for the endeavor, but this is an unknown “enemy”? I mean they aren’t really. We have never been attacked by them. We just know they have attacked others, but we know the circumstances that lead to such an encounter, everyone views them as obstruction to their acquisition to a resources, and it is unclear if anyone has tried to approach them in peace. That isn’t the case now either. I am young and inexperienced. They will not listen to me. If they attack my colleagues they will do what they can to decimate them. And for this reason I will fight. It is the path they chose, any attempt to compromise that plan could end in even more disaster I will do my best to disable rather than kill. But I will take note of this lesson. When I ascend the ranks, I will attempt to preserve all life until forced to take one.

He whispers to those around him, “I am less attuned to fighting in darkness but in principle I should be able to at least provide support.” He stays close to natural in hopes that if attacked he could protect him while he focuses on inflicting magic upon them.