Well, naturally, Bart will use his abilities in this setting, to detect if evil is emanating from either of the prisoners.

The two individuals could represent so many things, but it seems that Bartholomew is focused on them, so he will determine if they are prisoners to be rescued, disguised monsters to trick us, or new members that will be joining the adventurous band.

Until then, Archonia looks at the three tubs of liquid. Are any of them bathing sized?

Although he is not the best suited for it, given his height, Rasxif turns his attention to the vines overhead, searching for any movement or signs of life within them.

Brant's eyes snap to the chest and he catches his breath. "More chests!?" he mutters, mostly to himself. Then he takes a deep, rattling breath and looks around the chamber. He takes in the vines, the men, and the various implements and items scattered throughout. He holds his sword ready and waits for Bart's judgment.

Hieroman stands ready with her net, not sure what to expect.

The tubs are super-sized, permitting any who wish to bathe the opportunity to do so, providing they have dismissed the Dweller General's warning on the epidermal absorption of heavy metals.

Within the canopy of vines, Rasxif spots a veritable panoply of sinewy limbs, all attached, doubtless, to sinewy little bodies, themselves, at times, indistinguishable from the vines. If not for Bart's warning, delivered moments before, about the pervasive presence of evil with the chamber, his hand having indicated the ceiling creepers and then the cavemouth above, he might not have spotted them at all.

As for the young men, they look to be wasted, having abandoned any pumping of the bellows absent any direct compulsion to do so. One stares alternately at a clod of dirt on the floor and at a cave bug on the coal pile, his head swiveling one way and then the other in the manner of those in an altered mental state. The other has arranged some seemingly uncountable number of short swords before him and has started grunting to himself a few words that can't quite be made out.

Brant follows Bart's gesture to the ceiling. He squints his eyes to see but does't notice anything amongst the foilage until Rasxif's utters a sound of surprise and points at some figures moving within.
"Vine-monkeys, is it?"
He glances at the spellcasters. "Maybe if one of you could magick them to sleep, they'd fall like coconuts and we could dispatch them down here?"

Hieroman looks to the vines and the monkey's in an attempt to identify what they are to answer Brant.
OOC:  Druid’s Knowledge (3rd): At third level and higher, a druid can identify plant and animal types, and can determine when water is pure and safe to drink.

Since the tubs do not seem usable for bathiong as is, she turns away from them disappointed, and looks to see what the two men might have been working on, or if they were just playing with the bellows.

As for Brant's suggestion, she replies, "If they have been up there and not attacked these two, then why bring them down here to start a combat?" not sure why they were considered a threat.

“The two chained up men are either prisoners or slaves or are pretending to be so. And Bart indicated the vine creatures up above are evil. Now what? A Sleep spell might be useful if the vine creatures attack. Do we approach the prisoners?”

Bart considers Cassandra's words before responding.

"Methinks we should deal with the threat first, and the prisoners after. Perhaps someone can find a way to flush out the creature(s) above, while Ornwin, Brant, Bercy and I stand by, ready to attack?"

In reply to Archonia (msg # 308):

"Why? 'Cause they're evil! As soon we step foot in there they're going to be all over us like dung beetles at a.... dung festival! They could be watch-monkeys for all we know, enslaved to watch over the slaves."

Orwin looks upon both the primitive smithy and the two shackled bellows pumpers with disgust.

He grips his axe in readiness and upbraids his companions, "Wanton fields to wayward winter reckoning yields, and so shall we strip this field of evil and salt it forevermore."

The bellows slave kneeling in the dust with the innumerable short swords now grunts in earnest, his grunts audible to all: "Gonna count now! Gonna count now! Gonna count now! Gonna count now!"
This message was last updated by the GM at 17:21, Wed 29 May.

"I could try charming them down, but you can't start butchering if they do come down." Hieroman offers.

"Butchering is a curious word choice," replies Bart, in a tone that suggests confusion rather than anger.

He is not much interested in discussing the matter further and instead draws his sword. Bercy promptly does the same, and the two of them fan out a little, but otherwise maintain their general position near the entrance to the room. Staring into the darkness above, the knight and his squire prepare to defend themselves in the event of a surprise attack by the unknown evil force lurking above.
This message was last edited by the player at 07:32, Wed 29 May.

Hieroman looks at Bart and Bercy and the two gleaming blades that have been drawn.  "Metal against flesh, what word would you use?"

Her tone is level and pragmatic, as if she was just seeking to learn how the Paladin's understood the situation.  She positions herself a little behind, but between the two of them.

Her net is held in both hands, ready so it can be deployed by an arc of her left arm with her right hand letting go a moment later, so the net opens and spreads out as it is cast.

"A different one," offers Bart, still managing to avoid taking offense.

Hieroman said nothing further on the subject, it didn't matter what euphemism was used.  She changes the subject as she considers the words of the chained captive.  "They're not in their right minds those two.  The evil you seek might manifest in their actions."

The black and white delineations were certainly easy to understand, but she also was limited on the number of spells she could cast. So Archonia did not cast a sleep spell above. If those above started to come down, or attacked from a distance, she would do so, but if they stayed where they were, she was fine with letting them be, since they had so far done nothing.

Instead, she went to one of the slaves and watched the cave bug with him for a bit before asking, "Have you eaten today?"

The bug-watching slave does not respond to Archonia's question, his focus on the life of the cave bug unwavering. Meanwhile, the short sword-counting slave begins his assault on Mount Numeracy once again.

He starts out strong, confident. He's got this.

"One short sword!"

"Two short swords!"

"Three short swords!"

"Four short swords!"

11:29, Today: The Host rolled 6 using 1d6.  Init: party 1-3 lost city 4-6.

Then, it all goes to shit. He looks around the smithy as if he might find the right number behind the chest or in the tub. He does not find it. He never has.

"I can only," his roar reaching the height of a bellow here, "count to four!"

Enraged, he grabs two of the innumerable short swords (all mundane) and acts out his anger, launching himself at the young squire, Percy, who has the presence of mind to block his twin slashes with his shield.

11:55, Today: The Host rolled 4,3,7,1 using d20,d6,d20,d6.  Math attacks Percy.

Then, from behind the tangle of creepers in front of the cavemouth, a serpentine heads pokes forth and emits a most sibilant hiss, most likely a signal of some kind, meaning something along the lines of "Slaaay thee Intrudersss," which any of the guests would know were they fluent in yuan ti, which they are not.


(Just the one)

Harkening to the signal, a squall of tasloi (as they will later come to be known) drops from the vine canopy into the midst of the party, each of the twelve of them gripping a net in their simian hands with shields and javelins strapped to their spindly backs.

Later the guests, should they survive, will find a page of some lost explorer's journal which will describe these aboriginals as follows:

Tasloi are long-legged, flat-headed humanoids. They walk with a crouching posture, touching their knuckles to the ground from time to time. Their skins are a lustrous green and are thinly covered with coarse black hair. Their eyes are similar to a cat’s and are gold in color. Their feet are long and prehensile. Often they can be heard at night, speaking in their high and whispery voices.

For now, though, they hoot and shriek like monkeys and toss their nets every which way.

12:19, Today: The Host rolled 5,11,12,8,17,5 using d20,d20,d20,d20,d20,d20.  Too many nets.
Forgot the -2's for Protection from Evil but a 15 hits Hieroman on the nose.

12:22, Today: The Host rolled 5,4,17,8,3,0 using d20-2,d20-2,d20-2,d20-2,d20-2,d20-2.  TOO MANY NETS!

With nets raining every which way, inevitably they snare a couple of the unlucky, Hieroman and Brant in this case.
Both are entangled for 18 minus their dexterity rounds.



The tasloi have ACs of 6 this round.
Tasloi finished third in the Gencon 1986 rankings for most offensive representation of an indigenous people. Cook was said to have been bitterly disappointed at this result, claiming that he had done all that was humanly possible to make those "little buggers" as subhuman as possible.
The yuan ti at the cavemouth has an AC of 0 for its snake parts and 4 for its man parts. 50/50 chance of striking either.

OOC:  Given Hieroman has her own net of entrapment in hand, and the net obeys her command, could she voice the single command word to her own net to CLOSE on the approaching net that is thrown at her?  She has lost initiative so her movements are too slow, but could a single command word be uttered?  Could her net effectively catch the approaching Tasloi net to entangle them both and keep the Tasloi net off of her?


OOC:  The whole counting by the captive has reminded me of Drowning Pool's Bodies.  Is that one of those egg things?
This message was last edited by the player at 20:42, Sat 01 June.

"Gah! See! See! Vine monkeys!" shouts Brant as he struggles for the next 3 rounds.

Bercy defends himself against his attacker, and Bart charges the yuan ti.

Bercy rolled 20 to hit, 9 damage, and 19 to hit, 7 damage using d20+1,d8+2,d20+1,d8+2.  Longsword attacks.

Bart rolled 23 to hit, 7 damage and 6,8 using d20+4,d8+4,d20+4,d8+4.  Longsword attacks.

In reply to Bartholomew (msg # 322):

ooc - Nice rolls! Brant is just going to stand by and hold your beers while you both get on with it.

Rasxif snatches a pinch of powder from his belt pouch and mutters an incantation, sending blast of color toward one of the groups of humanoid attackers.

OOC: Cast colour spray (the last one of the day that Rasxif has memorized).