Wen directs Armando toward a partly hidden heap of remains, while he himself springs off in the opposite direction to swiftly reach the target of his indulgence. The chill mists curl in behind him, but part before his hungry grasp as he reaches down to pry something from the skeletal grasp of a long dead hero... the ancient leather and finger bones crumble away as his nimble fingers draw from them a sinuous and untarnished blade... and pow! | Roll for damage 1d6=4; roll to see if Wen drops the blade 1d6=6 so he hangs onto it. | Wen takes 4 hit points of damage from a jolt of green-verve but manages to hang onto the feral thing!
Meanwhile, Armando can hardly know what Wen might have been indicating, for the remains here about are merely those of a pair of mail-armoured fighting men long since deceased. They have mace and daggers and shields, and helms, and belts, and holed purses of silver, and boots, and packs, and other gear all of which appears to be in a ruinous state... he conducts the swiftest shake down the pair of corpses are ever likely to get (within a bound of the circling shadows) and, 1d6=6! his thief's intuition does not fail him! Withered leather and bone and crumbling gear all fall asunder at his searching fingers, but immediately he finds one thing most wholesome--'tis a plain golden ring upon the finger of a hand that falls apart as Armando frees the precioussss treasure from it...
| Now the ref rolls again to determine how the shadows will respond to this attempted looting; 2d6=10 so it is well for the players, for now...
What next? |
the Elf Medium (MV 12", AC 9, HD 1, hp 1/1, AL N) great cloak, lantern
; spells: color spray; scrolls: sleep, sleep, charm person
Hirelings: Georges; torch