Ch. 1: Trying to get inside the Tomb

[Alethan]

"Were I crass enough to discuss such things in public, and with strangers, I yet doubt I'd share my tales of the bed with you, sor," Skiiratch replies. With a shake of his head, he returns to watching the mound.

[Bhart]

Skiiratch turns his head and sneers, "But isn't that what do you'd expect from a common tavern performer?"

I think there has been a bit of a missunderstanding, but I'm going with it...could be interesting.

Drunkard = Bindle
common tavern performer = Quinn
Dwarf = Urdak

As a fellow elf, Erodhon would have had no issues with you. (I'm kind of modelling him on Lucius Malfoy from the Harry Potter Movies. except not evil. an arrogant, self-important asshat. but not evil . Until for filthy, vermin-covered beast assaulted him

Erodhon sneers back, "You place yourself on the same level as these others? My, how low have we fallen? "

OOC: Well done, thank you for keeping your RP intentions clear. It's a fun bit of role playing you guys have going and I just want to say I appreciate the maturity and common sense you've both shown in how you're playing it out. Too many times I've seen RP like this turn sour, it's nice to see it work for a change.

[tkrexx]

Urdak pulls his cloak about him in defense of the mosquitos and watches the mound.

[Dumnbunny]

The priest, Razluki, takes a seat near the fire in hopes the smoke will ward off the bulk of the buzzing pests. He sets to inspecting his gear, ensuring everything is properly packed, straps cinched tight.

[Alethan]

OOC: Aw, dang... you had to pull the maturity card...

After a moment's pause, Skiiratch turns and walks back to the other elf.

"I did not think you were calling me a common tavern performer any more than my cat thought you were calling him a drunkard. In truth, I was testing you. We are about to enter a place so wrought with traps and dangers that it is very likely none of us will make it out alive. So we must have our wits about us if we are to stand a chance. I wanted to see if your wits had been overshadowed by your bravado, or if you really were paying attention."

He continues in a hushed voice as he points at Quinn, "Take, for example, your tavern performer over there. Yes, he carries a lute on his back, but he also wears a finely crafted sword at his hip. His hands are toughened from years of training with the sword and his muscles betray his incredible strength. Yet watch how he sits, with eyes and ears open to all around him. He takes in everything, missing nothing, including our conversation. He is cunning and sly and no man to be trifled with."

Then he nods his head over at the dwarf and says, "Now look more closely at that dwarf. Another strong one, wearing finely crafted dwarven plate mail, making him nih impossible to hit. He has taken years of experience wielding a pickax in the mines and applied that knowledge towards using the very lethal military pick in his hands. His knowledge of stonework will likewise be quite useful to us."

"And now the drunkard..." he turns his head to look at the elderly inebriated man. "He teeters and totters about as if he hasn't been sober in weeks. In truth, I doubt he's touched a drop of liquor once in his ancient (by human standards) life. When he thinks nobody is looking, he is as light on his feet as Ruffian here. His knuckles are thick and calloused, most likely from brutally beating those who have underestimated him, and he is almost as swift as me. Look at how he swats at the mosquitoes. Now look more closely and note he is, in fact, catching them, one at a time, and squishing them between thumb and finger before moving to the next. Not one of the biting insects has yet landed on him..."

"While I suspect you DID notice most of that with your sharp eyesight and keen elven hearing, you have missed the most important thing," he finishes, turning back to the elf, "and that is me, Skiiratch. And all I will do to show you my skill is to give you back the silver amulet of your god." He holds up Erodhon's silver holy symbol by the thin silver chain it dangles from and passes it back to its owner."It was a cheap trick, using my cat as a distraction, but one that has worked for years. And one that you should have noted for what it was."

He bows in reverence to the younger elf, "My apologies for the harsh words earlier and... the pilfering of your trinket. It was all meant in good fun. But I must know that you have your wits about you, brother, and are not truly worried about that sneaky little halfling hiding over in the bushes near the supply tent, just because he is a halfling."

[Stirling]

McCloud will resist the temptation to boldly introduce himself to the 'group' prefering rather to skirt the edge of the camp eyeing up the local guides and workers and those who like him have been 'hired, press-ganged, cursed or called' into this expedition. He will take silent note of the conversations...."Thanks the Gods we don't have have a half-breed".....I presume he means the green-arse's? McCloud will stroke his pointy ears at that.

McCloud will try to gain information on the digging that took place on the north side of the hill, does this Rourke know of what 'entrance ' the lost group found. I'll mention that the great lords of the past in my homeland were entombed in great barrows of stone and then covered over with earth. What is the typical stone here? granite blocks, sandstone? any formal copies of the Kings Ordnance survey available? After a brief chat with Rourke and any fellow workers he will take a dark corner of the tavern, perhaps on the edge of the firelight and survey the others.

He'll ask Quinn if he can swing a spade and sword as good as he strums his lute and if he knows any ballads of home.

[Dogma]

Erodhan stares at the holy symbol in the other elf's hand as he felt beneath his cloak where is should have been hanging. Whatever affect Skiiiratch had hoped to have with his speech was quickly overshadowed by the fact that he had stolen one of Erodhan's possessions.

"How dare you lay hands upon me and steal my possessions!" he exclaims snatching the holy symbol from the others elf's hands, "I may have been a bit hasty in my judgement of the others and will give them a chance to prove their worth." He throws back his cloak to reveal finely crafted elven chain mail and a finely crafted sword of his own.

"Long have I studied the arts martial, arcane, and divine. Long have I searched for the secrets that may be held within this tomb. My worth shall be proven and then you will know that this is not bravado, but merely taking my rightful place. But you...you have already shown yourself for what you truly are...a common thief. Still, if this place is as truly dangerous as you say I would be inclined to think your skills might be of some use."

"After all, even the crudest tools can create wonders in the hands of a master craftsman. Even the halfling and the half-breed over there" he says pointing towards where McCloud tries to skirt around the camp. "See, my senses may not be as dull as you think."

[Alethan]

Skiiratch smiles and says, "Welcome to the team. Now lets get into that tomb..."

[Bhart]

McCloud will resist the temptation to boldly introduce himself to the 'group' prefering rather to skirt the edge of the camp eyeing up the local guides and workers and those who like him have been 'hired, press-ganged, cursed or called' into this expedition. He will take silent note of the conversations...."Thanks the Gods we don't have have a half-breed".....I presume he means the green-arse's? McCloud will stroke his pointy ears at that.

McCloud will try to gain information on the digging that took place on the north side of the hill, does this Rourke know of what 'entrance ' the lost group found. I'll mention that the great lords of the past in my homeland were entombed in great barrows of stone and then covered over with earth. What is the typical stone here? granite blocks, sandstone? any formal copies of the Kings Ordnance survey available? After a brief chat with Rourke and any fellow workers he will take a dark corner of the tavern, perhaps on the edge of the firelight and survey the others.

He'll ask Quinn if he can swing a spade and sword as good as he strums his lute and if he knows any ballads of home.

OOC: Read that intro post again, you're not in a tavern. You're in a camp in the Vast swamp at the base of the skull shaped hill that is supposedly the location of the tomb.

Rourke continues to limp toward the barge as Mc Cloud follows with questions. "Ah nah son I didn't hang around ta find out. Dey was just jumpin' around like fools sayin' dey found somethin' on de north side." He says over his shoulder. The old man reaches the barge and turns to regard the half-elf with a puzzled look. "Stones?, all I know is dey grey and hard. Boy I'm just an old swamp rat. I don't know nuthin' 'bout such things. Now, like I told the other pointy eared fella over there, I'll drink to yer memory tonight. I gots money to spend in town tonight an I intend ta enjoy it. Hhehehehe"The old guide tips his hat as the bargemen push the boat away from shore. "I'd wish ya good luck, but I don't think it'll do ya any good, hehehehehe" He continues to cackle as the barge drifts down stream and out of sight.

[Bhart]

It's about mid-day. You guess that about 7 hours of daylight remain for searching. The grinning skull hill just sits there daring you to come closer and have a look around.

[tkrexx]

Urdak's eyes flicker to Erodhan as he reveals his armor. He looks as if he would envy the fine craftmanship, if he could figure out how. His dull gaze then returns to the Mound. His instincts tell him a decision will be made soon.

[AQuebman]

While the others bicker and argue Bindle continues up the hill to the skull shaped rock and pokes around the mouth and eye sockets with his jo staff.

[Alethan]

Recalling Rourke's statement about a previous adventuring party finding something on the northern face of the hill, Skiiratch follows the base of the hill around until he is looking at the North Face. Then he slowly examines the hillside with his sharp eyesight, noting any unusual features or larger clumps or gatherings of brush or stone that might indicate an entrance is being hidden.

[Mondego]

Quinn joins Skiiratch in searching the northern side of the hill. He uses the point of his spear to help penetrate the earth and brambles looking for any manmade pieces of stone.

[Bhart]

While the others bicker and argue Bindle continues up the hill to the skull shaped rock and pokes around the mouth and eye sockets with his jo staff.

A small nest comes tumbling out of one of the openings. With it feathers and the tiny bones of a long dead sparrow scatter at Bindle's feet.

[Bhart]

Skiiratch and Quinn check the shady north side of the hill. The elf notices a stone ledge about half way up the hill, peeking out from behind clumps of bushes and brambles. The pair discover an area behind the bushes where the hill side is erroding. The steep (+45 degrees) face of sand and gravel extends from where they are standing up to the stone ledge about 20' above.

When Quinn starts poking around with his spear part of the erroded hill side collapses. Sand tumbles down the hill and around his feet as a small hole is created revealing an open space on the other side.

[Mondego]

Using his spear to clear the sand and expand the hole, Quinn tries to get a look into the space beyond.

[Alethan]

"Here, let me show you the light," Skiiratch says, pulling his MagLite* off of his belt. He opens the secured top of the scroll case and "aims" it into the hole.

*The MagLite, or Magician's Light, is a simple contraption - a scroll case with a rod inside it. The rod has a Continual Light spell cast on it. The cap to the scroll case is secured to it by a small silver chain. It is a friction-fit, but seals very tightly, blocking any light from escaping when the cap is on.

[AQuebman]

Bindle investigates the remains of the sparrows nest to see if he can tell what caused their death.

[Bhart]

Skiiratch and Quinn can see a 20x30 foot hall of plain stone. At the end is a pair of bronze double doors. The hall is clogged with cobwebs. They are especially thick near the ceiling and obscure it from view. Loose strands of web dangle from above and sway lazily in the stale smelling air.