Murder, She Rolled (D&D 5th Ed)

"Well... here it lies... it seems... dead. The good kind of dead. Do we... like, set fire to it just in case?" asks Adelaide as the figure of the dead robed man appears before them.

"Yep." Says Daren, still half as stressed and pointing crossbow at the figure.

"was thinking about killing him with fire too, before it lays eggs or something. On a second thought, that scroll may be worth something. Maybe I can pull it from outside the room with a rope tied to a crossbow bolt, or-" he seems to hesitate for a while and shift his feet.

"What the hell, damn it."

Daren puts aside the crossbow, gives the skull to the death priest, and unfolds his tools as he goes face to face with the mummy. "Gotta...check this first.I've done creepier stuff, still, any assistance would be great."

Che-che-check for traps! Or anything unusual

"You've got big balls, pretty boy. Not me thing, but... Eh, who wants ta live forever?" Ursula quipped, brandishing her own set of tools. While everyone else in the room held their breaths tensely, the two prodded, poked and probed with every single item in their kits...

Perception check 1d20+3 = 17: No traps seen. Safe!

...and after a prolonged bout of what Fennis would later call "jiggery-pokery", they fished the book out of the mummy's cold, dead hands.

Its hide cover had an eerily smooth texture, completely unlike the rougher leather of cows - and though only a few flecks of gold remained to hint at its original glory, the embossed letters on its surface were visible (and palpable, if Daren had the guts to run his hands over them for any longer):

The Last Confession of Emen M. Dray, High Cleric of Neruok

"The Last Confession of Emen M. Dray, High Cleric of Neruok" he reads out loud.

"So that was not the lich...who happens to also be a god?"

"By the artful hands of Brandobaris. Now it's just you left to deal with..."

Daren puts away the book and searches his backpack for what is left of the soap and linen. He uses his tinderbox to get the whole thing on fire. He backs up cautiously, never turning his back to it.

Bonus action disengage. Moving 30 ft back

The look on Da'nass's face turned from grim determination to abject horror as he realised - too late - what Daren was trying to do. "Wait! That mummy is-"

Embers and sparks met with a century of preservatives, dry mummy paper, and the fine cloud of dust that had been tossed up by the intruders' actions - and with a loud "WHOOF", the contents of the sarcophagus instantly erupted into a roaring fireball, throwing up thick clouds of choking black smoke that quickly enveloped the room.

"... highly flammable," the death-priest finished lamely, coughing as he covered his mouth with the sleeve of his robe. "Of all the days to not prepare create water..."

"Great balls of fire... This is exactly what happened last time!" Fennis swore, waving at the chamber's exit. "If we can't put it out, then we need to get out!"

Any ideas?

edited 18th Sep '16 10:01:21 AM by Pyrite

"We should bring the sarcophagus down face first into the ground! This can't happen again, I'M NOT THAT KIND OF THIEF!"

Daren says out of the room, then holds his breath to enter the sarcophagus, his crowbar in hand passed to Adelaide, and bring it down from above. He tries to climb the sarcophagus and push it off the wall with his legs.

"Just put the lid back on you daft arsonist bastard!" Vondal shouts, moving to grab one half of the sarcophagus lid and waiting a moment to see if someone would help him before attempting to heave it back into place.

Adelaide nods her head at Vondal's plan, moving to help him put the lid back onto the sarcophagus and thus hopefully containing and smothering the fire.

"Chill," Miron smirked, shooting a light-blue beam at the flames and watching as a thin sheet of frost formed over the hot stone... only to instantly melt away, along with the arrogant smile on his face.

Advantage from 2 people lifting is negated by Disadvantage from smoke and heat. Strength check: 1d20+3 = 14 (Success.)

It was Vondal and Adelaide's turn as they headed to the heavy stone lid, lifting it high above the sarcophagus as they grappled with its soot-slick surface and heated rock... and with a resounding "thud", they slammed it back down against the roaring flames and smothered them outright.

"By the Old Ones, that was close... but I strongly suggest that we settle things elsewhere." Al-Qina's white mask had begun to turn grey from the ash that was still flying, but even then, he refused to remove it for cleaning. "And then we can put the final pieces of the puzzle together."

Daren waved his hand faintly while he left the hole in the wall.

"G...great job, guys." he put his weight against the wall and slided down to sit on the floor, panting.

"Speech...less...just...a sec." he breathed deep, raised his head to the ceiling and let out his breath.

"Agreed... now that the corpse burned without protesting, I'm more than glad to get out of here" says Adelaide as she gather her collection of important-to-the-case heads and skulls in order to bring them to the surface.

"Thanks for the help, girl," Vondal heaved out heavily, the smoke not helping to make his voice any smoother than usual.

As he started to walk out, he added, "...maybe get a few contractors to cave this Lady-damned place in...."

Before leaving, Daren pulls Fennis by the tail, still coughing, clearly at the edge of his efforts after being beaten unconcious by Tony, getting roughed up by Phil(or was it Rob?) and then having been exposed to the fires. He hands the captain all of Wimsey's notes, along with all evidence in his posession, save for the tome.

"All goes...to investigation. Weirdo can pick it up...(cough cough) at Sheriff's." the hybrid says the last sentence staring at the warlock.

He then struggles to his feet, never leaving the wall for support and motioning he was good to go, despite the cinged tips of his hairs, eyebrows and clothes, dried blood, ashes and bruises all over him.

"Wait...search coffin, one last time. No magic artefacts....fall wrong hands."

Captain Fennis, slightly miffed from having his tail pulled, accepted all of Daren's 'gifts' with a disapproving frown... and when he saw the rogue stagger over in the direction of the sarcophagus, he slapped his forehead in exasperation. "Still with the histrionics. Cass, hold these for me."

He was over by Daren's side in two steps, his heavy armour doing nothing to slow down his pace as he gripped the half-elf by the shoulder in warning, pulling him away. "Easy, kid. You've caused me more trouble that I'd like to admit..."

Lay on Hands restores Daren back to 16 HP.

"...but at least your heart's in the right place. I'll take things from here." He unsheathed his sword and held it aloft, his face grim. "I can't consecrate this mess, but if I'd known this chamber existed the first time we were down here, I would've finished the job myself. Cass, get 'em outta here."

The crone shuddered - she knew what was coming. "Boyo, best to get moving if ya value yer eardrums. If ya stick around fer too long, yer' bound to get thunderstruck."

Heeding her words, Ursula and Fen picked up Ander's limp frame and hustled their way out of the room with doubling haste, and the others followed suit.

They hadn't gone very far when Crazy Cass's warnings bore fruit, and the roar of a thousand thunders echoed and re-echoed through the cavernous tunnels.

Miron suddenly stopped stock-still in his tracks, a sudden thought in his head. "How's he going to find his way out?"

There was a brief, awkward pause, and Ursula and Fen gave each other uneasy looks before shrugging.

"...Eh, keep on movin'. !@#$ tha police."

Central Golimar - City Guard HQ

An hour and a few Cass-vetted testimonies later...

"Clearly, I did not think this through. Anyway," Fennis addressed the convened adventurers, looking exceedingly peeved at having forgotten the part of his plan that involved getting out of the catacombs without the aid of darkvision or a map. "the lot of you have caused Golimar no end of trouble, up to and including multiple counts of arson, assault, breaking and entering, trespassing in restricted areas and compromise of a crime scene, consorting with known criminals, illegal use of mind-altering spells, and at least one count of being drunk and disorderly."

He coughed and glared in Daren's direction before letting his stony demeanour soften just a little.

"This happens every week in Golimar, for what it's worth - the only difference being that since your actions have allowed us to close both the cases of the murder of Ned Barrowman and the Cult of the White Hand, the city will not be pursuing any charges against any of the aforementioned actions taken in the course of your stay. The city owes you her thanks... and an explanation of sorts, if you're inclined to sit through that masked man's academic discourses."

edited 23rd Sep '16 10:05:34 PM by Pyrite

"Most of those crimes aren't exactly applicable to me, so if someone is taking note, I'd like our case to be archived separately instead of collectively... and thank you, anyway for listening to us. I'd like to hear the explanation" says the young soldier woman as she sits with her arms comfortably crossed.

"I'm all ears, but you wouldn't mind writing that down on some official paper, would you?" Vondal asked.

After a moment, he added. "Just the part about things to thank us for. Not the list of charges, that is. Something to take back to the temple, you understand."

"Well I want a paper with all my charges, and a bounty on my head. Two kinds of people, Padre."

Daren stretches himself, leaning lazyly and a little cocky pose just to tease the guards, he would not miss this opportunity for the nothing.

"Joking. Let's hear it at last. Then we bring Miron closer to examine this book and get Ander out of the room. Nothing personal, buddy - we're tired of dragging half-concious people, that's all."

"By the way, where is the girl that brought Gorthmog back? ...I mean she risked her life to help and was very confused about what happenned, she'll want to see this. Stop giving me that look guys, it's nothing like that."

"I'm a paladin, not a padre - that's Da'nass," Fennis clarified. "We'll have a testimonial prepared for your Lord Helrik and the high priest of Serena with all the relevant details included... and we'll probably leave out the embarrassing bits, if that helps. As for your friend..."

"Daren!" Vella burst through the door frantically and flung her arms around the battered half-elf, her face a mask of worry... and wrinkled her nose as she smelt blood and smoke. "You daft punk, what have you been up to? You look like a chain devil dragged you through the Thirteen Hells by your ankles!"

The dragonborn cleared his throat as Miron, Al-Qina and Ander followed closely behind her, and Vella reluctantly disengaged.

"Have a seat," Fennis gestured. "This might take a while..."

"By now, you've probably figured out that Wimsey Poncebottom murdered Ned Barrowman. Judging from the clues you found in Ned's room and the testimonies of Fen and Ursula, our best guess is that they got into a disagreement over payment for services rendered, and Wimsey put Ned to sleep before cutting his head off. That was the easy bit. But what we couldn't figure out was everything else about the kid: why he was here in Golimar and why he had an obsession with the skull of Neruok."

"Captain Dragonbreath, how did you not know about the skull of Neruok when the whole bloody Cult of the White Hand was right under your nose?" Miron blurted, exasperated.

"We knew about the Cult of the White Hand for a long time, Miron," Fennis explained, his voice weary. "They've been a perpetual thorn in Golimar's side for decades, and they keep popping back up no matter how hard we try to eradicate them. Our attempt last week, with the adventurers from out of town, nearly turned the entire Northern District to ash... and we somehow still managed to miss the hidden chambers that you found."

edited 24th Sep '16 10:30:37 AM by Pyrite

"So you think with our last bit of work, they may not have any reason to keep sticking around this place?" asks Adelaide with arms crossed, wondering if now she'd be put to erradicate cultists... or rather, more cultists.

"Yeah, I mean, as long as the people's lifes are improved and the reward is met, I can help you guys. I mean no offence, but I'd rather not leave this city as it is, and we were sucessful, if not exactly subtle, in finding what and who was needed."

edited 26th Sep '16 12:33:35 PM by Kyef

"You can never truly wipe out a cult," Vondal said. "But hopefully this has set them back for a few decades. Always happy to help out the local law enforcement, am I right?"

"If you kill them all, isn't the cult wiped out?" asks Adelaide as she scratches her head, as she thinks that's rather straightforward.

"That one I know. Yes and no. People are killed, but their ideals, their...corruption lives on. Thing is, what Neurok...or evil dragons or...fiends...represent never truly fades. And people keep looking for easy paths for powers and answers. They reappear, like cockroaches. My old guild was like that. Besides, they're secret as...hells."

"Never know if it ended and there could be a member right here, right now. And people ask me why I'm paranoid."

"Unfortunately, you're right to be suspicious, and I doubt we've seen the last of them. The Cult of the White Hand may be obscure, but it's fairly well-entrenched across the empire of Xanthra. They just happened to have a branch here... a branch which was dabbling in the illegal distribution of forgeries of the Skull of Neruok, judging from Cass's findings."

"The crone is right - for once. Now that I have had the time to examine them... Every. Single. One. Of these accursed skulls is nothing but a forgery," Al-Qina elaborated, waves of psychic exasperation radiating in his thoughts. "The Poncebottom boy was a fool and utterly lacklustre at his studies, but he stole his uncle Archibald's notes and ran all the way to Golimar on the suspicion that there must've been something of great power here, and blindly decided to fixate on the first skull he saw."

"No surprises there," Miron retorted dryly. "You all remember what we heard on our first night here - bunch o' 'adventurers' sold poor old Ned that skull. Maybe it was the same bunch who helped clean out the catacombs the first time, and tried to hock one of the fakes off for a little extra spending silver. Or maybe they just came across it while wandering in the sewers. Either way, can't blame him for wanting to get his hands on it and give it a go. I would've done the same... well, aside from the whole murder and robbery business and all that."

"Still, the boy got what he deserved for not doing his magical research properly. Had he done so, he would have found by proper study what the rest of you chanced upon by complete happenstance."

edited 27th Sep '16 9:47:03 AM by Pyrite

"Happenstance?" Vondal asked rhetorically. "Or the Lady?"