(041) The Fireplace Subterrane

[waysoftheearth]

doctorx wrote:
Josiane abandons her attempts at wall-climbing with gratitude and turns her attentions to dressing the wounds of the party.

[waysoftheearth]

mushgnome wrote:
Highbough stops and leans on his spear for a moment to catch his breath. He shines his lantern helpfully wherever it's needed. If anyone is standing around with nothing to do, he'll direct them to load the loot onto the platform. "Tools and timber to fix this ladder, and patch over the vermin tunnels. A job for the goblins?"

Secretly, Highbough takes a peek at the craftsman's journal he swiped from the desk and secreted in the voluminous folds of his robe. The first thing he checks is the date of the final entry, how long ago was it, and does it end in "DOOM!!!"?

[waysoftheearth]

tonneau wrote:
"May I suggest having a more thorough look around this hole before we start salivating over booty?", says Gustave, lying propped up on one arm on the dias, "I really don't want another of those things showing up right now and we have no idea how far these warrens go, but ill warrant those rat holes we came down are not the front door."

[waysoftheearth]

danhem wrote:
"Quite right Gustave," Ulric says from near the work bench. "Now does anyone have torch or are Highbough and I the only ones who brought source of light into this dark pit?"

Ulric looks around at the group expectantly then sighs.

"Come Highbough and Desmond. Lets see how large this place is. Olaf, Guntram, and Dorgan will you join us? There may be something else lurking down here."

[waysoftheearth]

ehiker133 wrote:
Desmond shrugs.

"I don't know, Gustave... if they were dwarves, then the fireplace entrances would seem to be properly sized for them. And if that lift thing opens up to the garden, then it would be plenty big enough to bring anything they wanted down here. Maybe it's some kind of secret lab for making mud pies and mud men and it goes no further than a room or two down here.

He pauses in contemplation, "Hopefully they just left the one guardian..."

Regardless, Desmond saddles up along side Ulric, shield braced and sword drawn, ready for whatever might come at them next.

[waysoftheearth]

rleduc wrote:
Guntrum pads along with Ulric, silently hoping he gets some chance at treasure soon so he could afford to bring a torch for the next expedition. "Ser Gustave is right," he adds glumly. "We don't want to be surprised gathering treasure as our friends likely were in the crypt."

[waysoftheearth]

waysoftheearth wrote:
Desmond/Mondes, Ulric and Guntrum explore the extent of the basement while Highbough examines the journal and Josiane sees to the wounds of Gustave and Dieter.

Nobody is specifically on watch duty...

[waysoftheearth]

waysoftheearth wrote:
Desmond/Mondes, Ulric and Guntrum explore the basement, and are startled when they see another giant figure looming up over them in the dark, before they realise that it is simply an in-construction, 10ft tall model. This one is a sinister looking framework of metal rods welded together -- an incomplete articulated metal skeleton (not too dissimilar to a medieval terminator!).

This shock aside, the basement vault turns out to be approximately twice as large as the ring of lantern light. There is another workbench along the rear wall as well as stocks of old timber and metal.

There are two closed doors, one at either end of the back wall.

Everything is still and quiet, other than the company themselves...

[waysoftheearth]

waysoftheearth wrote:
Josiane assists Gustave and Dieter to remove buckled pieces of armor, to wash and bind cuts and bruises, and to refit plate and mail. The pair of fighting men sluice the sweat from their necks and faces and take a refreshing draft from their water skins. Combat is hot work.

Hit points are recovered; (1d6; Dieter=1, Gustave=4)

Dieter now has 6/17 hp.
Gustave now has 12/14 hp.

Dieter is still feeling a bit beaten up.

[waysoftheearth]

waysoftheearth wrote:
While the others are busy Highbough examine the journal. It is a scruffy old leather bound thing full of loose and dog-eared leaves -- a real working ledger.

He flicks to the back and sees no mention of doom. The entries are not regularly dated, though it doesn't take the Elf long to discern that somebody has been experimenting with the various methods of constructing great automata. Many such attempts of varying sorts are recorded, with the successes and failures outlined. A few dates appear hear and there, and it appears that much of this work has been done only a year or two ago.

The identity of the author remains a secret.