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Zahra
Zahra stays in position, speaking over her shoulder. I would like the spear, please.

Torix eyes the spear, looks around the dark corridor deep underground, and raises an eyebrow to Zahra. That's old dead death worshipper spear. Ate by....
He shrugs, then pronounces, Nechtan.*

*Pictish word for hog's head cheese/aspic/congealed animal parts jelly. The adventurers might have had it here in Pictland, it's a local delicacy. If they were lucky enough to dine at a village chieftain's lodge. On a holiday.

Cruloc

"With your leave." Palm raised, Cruloc holds his hand out to Torix.

He smells, fondles, and hefts each item retrieved from the goo in an attempt to assess their properties.

"If the Thracian who smithed my sword had a hand in these as well, they may serve us well." He gathers the spear, helm, shield, dagger, and gemstone together on the stone floor of the corridor. "Perhaps they will also divulge to whom they wish to belong."

A half-raised finger signals the others not to interfere. He crouches, brow knotted, contemplating them with calm intensity.
Detect magic 35% [1d100]=1

Kiri considers checking the corridors to the north and south, then quickly reasons that no other creature would share a corridor with a creature such as the one they'd just slain. He watches Cruloc's study of the items recovered with curiosity, not at all certain what the man is trying to discern.

Amethu thanks Torix but waits to hold on to the gem until Cruluc is done examining them. He too keeps a vigil, then, on the darkness.

Dahinna

Hearing Grigor's voice, Dahinna hurries to the door and looks in. She smiles and grimaces at the same time upon seeing her companion. Her eyes are still wide when Torix hands her some coins. "Where'd you get these?"
She glances back over her shoulder, down the hallway, making sure nothing else is creeping upon them.

Torix replies, Was in the big thing eating Grigor. Very hard to see beast.

Grigor

Blistered raw but still with some meat on his bones and in enlarged form.

"Which way now?"

Looking up and down the passage. As a thought I would explore where the gelatinous cube came from, not the direction it was flowing too.

Zahra
Zahra holds her place, watching for trouble. If we go the direction that... mess came from, we're likely to meet fewer troublesome beasts and fungi. I would guess it ate everything that couldn't run away.

Dahinna

The rogue feels the bile rise in her throat at the thought of Zahra's words. Then she makes the mistake of looking at Grigor. She quickly shuts her eyes and takes deep breaths through her mouth, trying to steady her stomach. Sweat trickles down her back and she turns back to the corridor behind them and opens her eyes. She takes a swig from her waterskin and just breathes for a few seconds.

Torix
From the corner of his eye, the small Pict savage sees the big Cimmerian barbarian Cruloc suspiciously meditating on the ancient arms and armor lying amidst the puddle of jelly in the dark corridor. "What devilry is this?" the hard young bowman and spearman thinks. He knows that veteran warriors of the tribe can detect-- and avoid-- ensorcelled things. But this Cimmerian.... What could he be up to?

The Caverns of Thracia, Pictland, the World of Hyboria
Day Twelve. Afternoon? 22nd day of the month of Qrot, 1280th year of the Age of Aquilonia






Among the ruin of the protoplasmic horror lies the skeleton of an animal headed man. Its inhuman bones were picked clean by that which nearly picked Grigor's bones clean.

Torix the noble savage divides the treasure fairly. Cruloc of Cimmeria believes the spear to possess qualities unnerving and unnatural.

Grigor recovers his surviving belongings, including the frightful necromantic wand.



It is completely unharmed.

Then they cautiously retreat back into the chapel of Death...




...around the apocalyptic tapestry...





...through the unlocked iron door...





...and north into an obsidian pathway of otherworldly, hungry darkness that rekindles Torix's and Zahra's sense of dread.




Suddenly a gust of wind rises from the north, carrying the scent of death. It extinguishes all their torches, plunging them into pitch blackness. The brands won't be relit in the unrelenting blast. Then, from the darkness comes a sound like a tattered flag flapping in a howling gale.


Actions?!


Map Detail:

One square = 10 feet. Lighter areas are visible. All else is from memory.

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Kiri looks down to his Grandfather amulet for advice, then realizes he can see nothing.

"Doe anyone have a means of lighting our way?" he says over the noise.

Grigor

My scimitar sheds some light.

Torix slings his bow and readies his flint-headed spear. This narrow passage is better suited to melee weapons.

Dahinna

"Shit! Shit! Shit!" the rogue hisses when plunged into darkness. She tries in vain to relight her torch, but the gale will not relent. She instinctively huddles closer to Zahra and reaches her hand down for Gnasher.

Amethu can lend no aide. He has no spell of illumination and his lantern is smashed.

Cruloc

A hand extended towards the Thracian spear is abruptly withdrawn, and a low hiss emerges from between Cruloc's teeth. "It carries the stink of magic. I will not touch it."

He eyes the skull of the animal-headed man. Stories of wifeless shepherds finding comfort among their flocks and herds abounded in the lands of the north, but he had never before seen the offspring of such a union.

Taking the lead and moving north along the hallway beyond the door unlocked by Kiri, the hairs on his thick neck stand on end moments before the blast of air extinguishes their torches. The smell of rot in his nostrils and unable to see, Cruloc too grabs for his spear and retreats a step to stand shoulder-to-shoulder beside Torix in the hallway, forming a two-man phalanx. "Back up and light a torch out of this infernal wind! I shall not advance blindly! Something is in here with us, or I'm an Argossean gong farmer!"

Zahra
When the wind starts, Zahra drops her extinguished torch and crouches. Down! Get down! She grips her sword and waits.

Dahinna

Standing so close to Zahra, the rogue follows her orders and crouches down low...while still trying to relight her torch.