The sewers of Geburatiel were, surprisingly, not that bad. At least as sewers went. Oh, sure, there were some unpleasant smells, but it wasn’t nearly as foul as a mortal sewer would be. For one thing, the white walls were clean. Like, permanently clean of any grit or grime. Even the water was, if not pure, then at least not a fetid, disease-ridden pool of things you were best off not thinking about.
How did they do this? Well, the answer was simple. The tunnels were fifteen feet tall and fifteen feet wide, leaving little room for us to maneuver, but making it the perfect size for the cleaners, a series of Black Puddings that were left to roam the tunnels, eating everything they found. Some simple wards kept them from going through sewer grates or escaping to bother the people on the surface, and simple talismans with those same wards were also used by anyone who had business in the sewers, to ensure that they survived the experience. While the oozes were no real threat to us at our level, any sounds of battle, however short, risked us being discovered, at least until we got into the Repository’s vaults.
Thankfully, the talismans which Oriel provided allowed us to bypass the oozes, the simple charms emitting a pulse that encouraged the puddings to go elsewhere. This was perfect for our plans, allowing us to easily reach the ‘secret’ door that we’d been told about. Of course, the word ‘secret’ didn’t really apply, here, as we could plainly see the door, lit as it was by an everburning torch. Perhaps it would be best to just call it the ‘unofficial entrance’?
Whatever you called it, it was patently obvious that whoever had designed the Grimhold Repository clearly did not care about hiding the door from view. Personally, I would have laid money on the reasoning being that the architects knew that anyone who had the will to use the items held here for evil, and could get into the sewers of a literal city of archons in the midst of a god’s own realm without being caught probably had the skills to find a hidden door, no matter how secret it may be. Of course, there was always the chance that the designer simply didn’t wish to spend any more time than was absolutely necessary in the sewers, no matter how clean they were, and who was actually going to come down, traipsing through the sewers to check their work, anyways? But I didn’t really like that answer as much, even if it were the more likely one.
Siora’s Search Check: 1d20+43 = 61 (Success)
Siora’s Disable Device check: 1d20+42 = 58 (Success)
Siora’s Disable Device check: 1d20+42 = 51 (Success)
Siora’s Disable Device check: 1d20+42 = 53 (Success)
Siora’s Open Lock check: 1d20+33 = 46 (Success)
Siora whistled softly as she bent low, carefully examining the area around the door. “Yikes! Whoever designed this door really didn’t want people stopping by uninvited! I guess they just counted on the oozes to clean up the mess left behind.”
I raised an eyebrow. “How bad is it? I know Oriel mentioned a summoning trap, but is there more?”
The beguiler laughed. “You bet there’s more. There are three separate traps. First, you have what looks like a scythe trap, designed to cut apart anyone standing in the area. Then you have a poison dart trap on the door itself, which is also locked, by the way. Real beauty of a lock, I must say. Designed for a three-pronged, curling key of some kind, that you have to twist in just the right way to make it turn. Oh, and then there’s the summoning trap, set to go off when you open the door.”
Fartooth laughed his chittering laugh. “Ooh, I like whoever did this one. Knows proper traps, they do. Traps layered on traps, so people think they know what is going on, but then find out they’ve been fooled, as the second or third traps catch them! Yes, this is the kind of things kobolds would do, if we had the resources.”
I chuckled. “Well, you heard Oriel when we were arranging our disguises. Kobolds, of a sort, aren’t unheard of on this plane. There’s a chance that a kobold was the one who made this, or taught the one who did.”
Siora took her time with the traps and the lock, making sure to disable them all properly. That was the work of a couple minutes, but time well spent, in my opinion. You could never be too sure when dealing with magic traps. We wanted to steal as much as we could from the vaults, not waste time and resources healing up after dealing with traps!
But eventually, the lock was undone, and the door swung inwards. I took a breath, and said, “All right. Oriel only got to this door, before the summoned being killed her rogue. We don’t know what will be inside the repository, but I guarantee that there will be traps, and guardians of some sort, and they aren’t going to be weaklings. Keep an eye out.”
Siora’s Search Check: 1d20+43 = 56 (Success)
Siora’s Disable Device check: 1d20+42 = 59 (Success)
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Siora’s Open Lock check: 1d20+33 = 52 (Success)
Looking through the door, we saw a small hallway ten feet wide and twenty-five long. Before we could even start moving into the hallway, Siora stopped us, and went ahead, keen eyes checking for traps again. She found one, about halfway through the hallway.
“Oof, this would have been an extremely unpleasant one. Trigger the trap, and it unleashes lava into the room. I don’t know about any of you, but I’m pretty sure that lava is bad for my health.”
Vestele just grinned as her sister set about disabling the trap, and unlocking the door at the far end of the hall. “Well, I think that this sets to rest any questions of whether we’re in the right place. This is far too much security for mere curios. There’s probably some true treasures in these vaults!”
I chuckled at Vestele’s enthusiasm as I pushed the stone double doors open, but came up short at the sight of the room beyond. Thirty feet from this door to the ones I could see beyond, and seventy feet from one wall to the other. An everburning torch revealed stone statues of knights in armor, occupying the majority of the room, except for a small path.
“I don’t like this,” Siora said, frowning.
“Definitely a trap. Maybe not trap, trap, but there’s a trap here,” Fartooth nodded sagely. “Maybe an ambush of some kind?”
“Well,” I sighed, “If there’s an ambush, I’m the one who can best survive it. So, let’s see what happens.” And, before I could change my mind, I walked slowly into the room, starting around the left-hand path.
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Melinda’s Spot check: 1d20+3 = 17 (Fail)
Slowly, I moved forward, the others hanging back by the door, waiting to see what would happen. I knew there had to be an ambush coming, but, unfortunately, I had never invested the time into training the skills that would let me spot one before the trap was sprung. I always had allies around to do that, after all. Which is why it didn’t surprise me much when I didn’t see the next part coming.
Warforged Sentinel’s Attack Roll (Melinda): 1d20+67 = 79 (Hit)
Miss chance: 1d100 = 67 (Hit)
Damage: 1d8+53 = 57 (Slashing)
Iron Vulnerability: 1d6 = 3
Axiomatic: 2d6 = 7 (DR 15/Cold Iron and Adamantine)
Melinda’s Fort Save (Massive Damage): 1d20+35 = 54 (Success)
Warforged Sentinel’s Attack Roll (Melinda): 1d20+62 = 82 (Critical Hit, Auto-confirm)
Miss chance: 1d100 = 19 (Miss)
Warforged Sentinel’s Attack Roll (Melinda): 1d20+57 = 62 (Hit)
Miss chance: 1d100 = 23 (Hit)
Damage: 1d8+53 = 57 (Slashing)
Iron Vulnerability: 1d6 = 2
Axiomatic: 2d6 = 7 (DR 15/Cold Iron and Adamantine)
Melinda’s Fort Save (Massive Damage): 1d20+35 = 51 (Success)
Warforged Sentinel’s Attack Roll (Melinda): 1d20+52 = 68 (Hit)
Miss chance: 1d100 = 72 (Hit)
Damage: 1d8+53 = 61 (Slashing)
Iron Vulnerability: 1d6 = 3
Axiomatic: 2d6 = 3 (DR 15/Cold Iron and Adamantine)
Melinda’s Fort Save (Massive Damage): 1d20+35 = 40 (Success)
“FUCK!” I screamed as all of a sudden my world became a mass of coalesced pain. Three times the blade cut me deeply, and the fourth only missed by a hair, thanks to the magic of my cloak. Which was fortunate, since that slash looked as though it had been destined for my throat directly. That hit would have probably taken my head clean off if it had landed!
As I staggered back, against the stone statue behind me, I got a glimpse of my attacker. One of the statues had come to life! It was no longer made of stone, like the other statues, but metal. Or was that armor? Either way, it was clear that this knightly figure armed with a longsword glowing with blue light and tower shield (to say nothing of its other items that glowed with magic) had been standing sentinel, waiting on the perfect chance to strike.
And the damn thing had come close to cutting me in half with those hits! Whatever else could be said about this enemy, it was strong as hell. I couldn’t take too many more hits like that.
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Initiatives:
Fartooth
Melinda
Ebonheart
Warforged Sentinel
Siora
Vestele
Fartooth’s attack (WS): 1d20+35 = 47 (Miss)
Fartooth’s attack (WS): 1d20+35 = 48 (Miss)
Fartooth’s attack (WS): 1d20+30 = 32 (Miss)
Fartooth’s attack (WS): 1d20+25 = 28 (Miss)
Fartooth launched several bolts of psychic power from his hands, trying to chip away at the sentinel’s health. Unfortunately, not a single one hit its mark, splashing helplessly against the massive tower shield. “Not good!”
Melinda’s Attack Roll (WS): 1d20+33 = 38 (Touch) (Miss)
Melinda’s Tumble check: 1d20+49 = 58 (Success)
Melinda’s Balance check: 1d20+39 = 40 (Success)
I cursed, and threw a bolt of acid at the knight. And it missed. It missed. I hadn’t missed with one of my attacks in so long, I couldn’t remember the last time it had happened! Biting back more curses, I dove to the side, rolling away from the warrior, and then vaulting backwards, balancing upon one of the shoulders of a statue in the second rank along the far wall. “Not good!”
Ebonheart whinnied in impotent rage. “I can squeeze in there, but I won’t have room to fight in so tight a passage. We should lure it someplace more open!”
The sentinel looked at Fartooth and the others, and said, “Insignificant threat.” Then, its helm turned my way. “Magic user. Primary threat determined. Destroy at all costs.” And, with that said, the sentinel moved forward, blade at the ready. It stopped in front of the statue that was in front of my statue. “Hiding will avail you not. You only delay the inevitable.”
WS’s Fort Save (Shadow Conjuration-Cloudkill): (Immune)
Siora blinked. “It talks? That’s no mindless construct!” She took a breath, and unleashed a spell, causing a cloud of poisonous gasses to erupt from a point of shadow. The knight did not bat an eye. “Damn! It isn’t a mindless construct, but it is still immune to poison, looks like. Mel, I don’t like the looks of this!”
Vestele’s Dispell Check: 1d20+20 = 35 (Success)
Duration: 1d4 = 4 (Rounds)
Vestele looked at the former statue, and said, “Right, I’ll try and do what I can to lower its defenses a bit.” As she said that, she unleashed a spell, and the glow of the knight’s bracers dimmed. “Well, that did something, at least!”
Something indeed, I thought. But would it be enough?