Immersive Ink

What about the tools? Greedy pillagers wants to know!

"Intriguing," Ulric says as he spots the carving. "It seems that this abbey was built upon a much older temple. We appear to have found the reason why the abbey was infiltrated by the werewolves."

Ulric searches his mind for any memory of the image from his various studies and what it may be.

Dieter will take a peek around that right-hand corner, just to make sure we're not about to be attacked.

Then he'll examine the bas relief one more time.

"Am I crazy?" he asks, "or would something like that be a great place to put a trap? Or hide a secret door?"

And he'll stand watch while one of our more clever sorts checks it out.

coffee wrote:"Am I crazy?" he asks, "or would something like that be a great place to put a trap? Or hide a secret door?"

And he'll stand watch while one of our more clever sorts checks it out.

Dorgan's not particularly clever but he knows from secret doors. He'll have a look.

Josiane blanches at the sight of the image of the terrible wolf-demon and instinctively makes the sign of the Enigma.

"Careful, my friend," she whispers to Dorgan as he approaches it; "I concur with Lord Dieter. Let us take no chances with yon blasphemy."

"Oh, where have our hobbits wandered too when we have need of them?" she adds in some exasperation.

But then: "Lord Armando? Might I ask you to lend your aid here? Your wits are cunning and your senses sharp. What make you of this carving?"

[p Young Man,leather+helm,sword,shield,12,12/14]Olaf[/p] and then [p Elf,leather+helm,hand,hand,12,8/8]Wen[/p] arrive in the basal, where [p Man,leather,short-sword,hand,12,7/7]Armando[/p] is still poised at the foot of the circular stair looking over [p Man,leather,spear,hand,12,7/7]Beringar[/p]'s shoulder as the redoubtable spearman trudges over to the sprawling pile of rocks, loose earth, timber splints and mason's tools.

It's mighty dim across the broad chamber from the light bearers, but the whole pile is roughly 6-8ft wide and is heaped along 20ft of the wall to about waist height. [p Man,leather,spear,hand,12,7/7]Beringar[/p] is no structural engineer, but it doesn't take too many smarts to conclude that these materials are likely what's left of diggin' through the roof and maybe constructin' the stair. Even in the shadows, it looks like it's all been layin' idle here for a good long while now...

Meanwhile, across the room, the rest of the party are drawn toward the wolf-effigy like moths to a flame...

[p Man,mail+helm,sword,shield,9,16/16]Dieter[/p], [p Dwarf,mail+helm,axe,shield,9,24/24]Dorgan[/p], and [p Old Elf,leather+helm,spear,hand,12,10/10]Highbough[/p] all approach the decorated passage end cautiously...

coffee wrote:"Am I crazy?" he asks, "or would something like that be a great place to put a trap? Or hide a secret door?"

| 1d6=1! Alas Dorgan fails to note the trapdoor hidden in the stonework. Now the ref checks who will be affected by the pit trap; a throw of 5-6 catches each of: Dieter=5, Dorgan=5, Highbough=2 |

...no sooner has [p Man,mail+helm,sword,shield,9,16/16]Dieter[/p] spoken these fateful words when the floor drops out beneath his feet! And woe! [p Dwarf,mail+helm,axe,shield,9,24/24]Dorgan[/p] is too near behind and can't stop himself falling into the pit too!

"AAAAaaaarrrrrghghhhhhhh....!!"

[p Old Elf,leather+helm,spear,hand,12,10/10]Highbough[/p] is left poised delicately on a 2ft wide ledge between the wall and the pit--precisely as if it were his intention to be so--and momentarily glimpses the pair of heroes vanish down the black hole; they seem to veer violently to the right (of those facing the wolf-effigy from the passage entry) just before they vanish from sight entirely. He has the impression from their receding cries that they've been sucked into a steep, hungry chute.

The stone eyes of the mocking effigy roll over with a stoneware grind, and the trapdoor snaps closed with a resounding thud.

And then there were eight...

| Dieter and Dorgan over to thread (063) please. Check your PMs for how to access it... |

"Dieter! DORGAN!! NOOOOOOOO!!!"

Josiane dives for the Ogre-Slayer and her best friend as they are snatched into the abyss, but too late. She is left lying on her stomach, the torch guttering in her right hand, her shield-hand stretching into nothingness.

There is an instant of pale, desperate distress, but then she is swift to withdraw her reaching hand lest the trap swing back and trap it.

"Something to wedge this! NOW!!" she thunders, the gentle maiden once again subsumed by the avenging angel.

Then she kneels by the pit and calls:

"DORGAN! DIETER! CAN YOU HEAR ME??"

To the others: "Rope. Rope! Who has rope? Make haste!!"

Wen at the rear, hears the commotion and hurries forward to see what can be seen...."Careful least we trip the trap also, can we pry up the stones?" Wen eyes the Mason's tools and then the brawnier warriors.