Quicklinks
Disarming the Door Trap
The tension in the chamber builds as Azalie steps forward, handing her hemp rope to Mutt.
“Go ahead and tie this with your flashy hand,” she says, her voice edged with anticipation. She’s eager to move forward, but the cold has crept into her bones. Even within these thick Duergar walls, the chill of the outside world lingers.
“Oh, what I would give for a bath,” she mutters, more to herself than to anyone else.
While Mutt focuses on the task at hand, Azalie quickly cuts four strips of nylon fabric from her pack, passing them around to the group.
“Take these and cover your faces. If this trap sprays anything, it might make the difference between alive and dead.” She ties her own makeshift bandana, dropping her pack to lighten her load. With her bow in hand, she prepares a fire arrow, the light glinting off her focused expression. “Mutt, pull the lever when you're ready.”
Mutt nods, summoning his mage hand and sending the spectral fingers to work. The rope weaves around the door handle with precision, the mage hand tying a secure knot. Satisfied, Mutt hands the other end of the rope to Dorf.
Dorf, still a bit skeptical, gives a half-grin. “I still say we should’ve tied him—” he gestures to the Duergar prisoner, who sneers in response, “—right next to the door and pulled the rope.”
The Duergar snarls, his eyes filled with contempt. “You lot are cowards, hiding behind ropes and tricks. You’ll die screaming soon enough.”
Dorf just shrugs, clearly unfazed. “Eh, whatever. We’ll see who’s still standing.” He takes the rope in his hands, gripping it tightly, and gives a hard tug to test its strength. “Before I pull this open, everyone might want to find some cover.”
Mutt quickly nods and steps back, positioning himself behind a wall at a safe distance. “Whenever you’re ready, Dorf.”
Azalie, with her fire arrow nocked and ready, slips into the shadows, pressing herself against the stone wall.
“Don’t forget your bandanas. These Duergar mean business,” she reminds the others, her voice carrying a hint of nervous energy.
Uptharr stands tall nearby, his flail resting at his side. “A sound plan, friends,” he says with a chuckle. “But remember, if any foul magic comes our way, I’ll stand firm between you and the danger.”
Fizzbum, having been observing the whole process from a safe distance, absentmindedly toys with some moss he found earlier, muttering,
“Ah, a good bit of fungus, nothing quite like a bit of nature in a Duergar dungeon… Oh, wait, what are we doing again?” He looks up just as Dorf is about to pull the rope. “Oh yes, good luck with that! I’ll be... over here.”
With everyone in position, Dorf gives a final nod, wraps the rope firmly around his hands, and yanks with all his strength. The door creaks and groans as it moves—heavy, resisting—but it pulls open just enough to trigger the trap.
Suddenly, a rapid series of clicks fills the air, followed by a thud. Poison-tipped needles shoot from hidden slots around the doorframe, aimed at various heights in the hallway. The trap springs to life with deadly speed, but thanks to the party’s careful preparations, everyone is safely behind cover. The needles clatter harmlessly against the stone walls, their poison seeping into the cracks, but not a single one finds its mark.
Uptharr peeks out from his cover with a grin. “Well, that could’ve been worse. Helm’s light protects!”
Mutt, still crouched behind the wall, lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. “Right. We’re good. Nice work, everyone.”
Dorf, still holding the rope, smirks. “Told you we’d get through it.”
Azalie steps forward cautiously, her bow still drawn. “Let’s keep moving. No more surprises, if we can help it.”
The way forward now lies open, the trap disabled and the door partially ajar, leaving the next part of the keep ready for exploration.
The Cellblock
The heavy door groans as it swings open, revealing a long, cold chamber that feels like a tomb. Snow swirls gently through a barred window in the northeast corner, coating the stone floor in a thin layer of frost. The air is thick, not with the usual stench of decay, but with something earthier, darker—something fungal.
Rows of stone doors line the south and west walls, each fitted with a small barred window at dwarf’s-eye height. The western cells appear empty, their windows offering only darkness. However, the southern cells are different. Through the bars, the faintest hint of movement catches your eye—twisted figures stand within, their bodies unnaturally still, but something about them feels off. The shapes of former prisoners are barely visible, their skin mottled with fungal growth and streaks of dark Chardalyn crystals jutting from their bodies like jagged scars.
The floor is cold underfoot, and a series of faint, jagged runes are scratched into the stone near each of the southern cells. They hum softly with an unnatural energy, barely noticeable but unsettling all the same.
To the far west, a narrow stairway descends deeper into the keep, a faint light seeping from the bottom. The air is heavy with the weight of decisions yet to be made, and the room's eerie silence suggests that any wrong move could awaken the horrors standing just beyond the bars.
Possible Actions:
Investigate the Runes:
Examine the strange runes near the cells to understand their purpose and how they might affect the twisted figures inside.
Go Downstairs:
Proceed down the stairway on the west wall, heading deeper into the Duergar keep without disturbing the cells.
Investigate the Cells More Closely:
Look inside the cells or inspect the figures standing still within. There may be more to discover about what has happened to these prisoners.
Other Action:
If none of the above options appeal, feel free to get creative and take another course of action!
What do you do?
10 minutes have passed
Current Time: 3:21 PM
Date: Fourthday , 24 , Alturiak , 1742
Temperature: 55°
Current Phase: Exploration
The Flickering Runes
“What the…?” Azalie walks through the door, lowering her arrow to use the light the flame gives off. “Are you friend or foe?” Azalie walks slowly towards the cells.She stops suddenly, glancing back at her friends. Her face saddens at the thought of people—no, wait—these are not people. She stares at them, her eyes glowing in the light, tears dancing to the movement of the flame. This wizard’s prison feels too much like home. “Be cautious, but gracious,” the words slip from her lips. “I have to know. Friend or foe?”
Her lower lip quivers as she flashes back to her own cell. Azalie is cautious, intending to verify who or what is in the cells. Whether it’s freedom or their own hell, she will release them.
As you peer into the cells, the twisted forms inside remain completely motionless. Even as your words cut through the thick air, there’s no response—just the eerie stillness of their corrupted bodies, covered in dark fungal growths and Chardalyn shards. Their eyes, or what remains of them, seem devoid of life, though something about their presence feels unsettling, as though they might stir at any moment. The chamber remains heavy with tension, the cold biting at your skin, and the memory of your own imprisonment makes this room feel all too familiar. The runes near each cell pulse faintly with a dark energy, though it’s unclear what their purpose is.
Mutt stops short, his breath catching in his throat as they walk through the door, and he sees the rows of cells lining the walls. A bead of sweat breaks out on his forehead even before he sees the creatures inside. Trying to distract himself from visions of being locked up himself, he looks down and mirthlessly chuckles at Fizzbum.
“These, uh… mushroom guys any relatives of yours, Fizz?”Mutt stays near the entrance, unshoulders his crossbow, and keeps it at the ready while Azalie approaches one of the cells. “Az, I wouldn’t get so close to those things… who knows what these Duergar would keep locked up down here?” Mutt notices the runes near each cell and squints, trying to determine their purpose.
Your keen eye for the arcane reveals that the runes on the floor are part of a containment spell. Fused with Chardalyn energy, these runes may be holding the prisoners in a suspended state—neither fully alive nor dead, a half-life forced upon them by the Duergar’s twisted experiments. But something about the way the energy flows feels fragile.As Mutt examines the runes more closely, a strange vibration begins to fill the chamber. At first, it’s barely noticeable—a faint hum in the background—but it quickly grows louder. Azalie, standing near the cells, feels it too, like a subtle pressure in the air, making the hairs on the back of her neck stand up.The runes flicker, their once-steady glow now wavering. The low hum builds into a faint buzzing, echoing through the room, almost like a warning. The air seems heavier, the strange energy pressing in on the party, coming from the direction of the runes—and the Chardalyn shards they carry.
Mutt frowns, sensing something is off, but it’s unclear exactly what’s causing the disturbance. The vibration grows louder, more insistent, and the runes pulse wildly, their dark energy becoming unstable.
Mutt’s Response:Mutt’s eyes open wide as understanding washes over him.“These runes… they’re part of a containment spell.” Mutt looks at the creatures in the cells. “These poor bastards were infected with some kind of fungal spores that have been contaminated with Chardalyn and dark magic. The runes are keeping them in a kind of suspended state. They’re neither alive nor dead.” Mutt looks to the group and warily at Uptharr. “It would be a mercy to kill these creatures and put them out of their misery.”
Dorf looks at the strange creatures locked in the cells but doesn’t go any closer. He figures the “smart” folks in the group can investigate. “If we are going to keep going in here, I really don’t like the idea of dragging this guard along with us. What if we stick him in an open cell?”
Uptharr furrows his brow as Mutt explains the runes and the creatures trapped inside the cells. His hand tightens around his flail, and he steps closer to the nearest cell, his expression grim as he looks at the twisted forms behind the bars.
“Helm’s light... these creatures were once innocent souls, now twisted by this vile magic.” His voice carries a deep sense of sorrow, but also determination. “You speak of mercy, Mutt, and I agree. No one deserves to be trapped between life and death like this.” Uptharr's gaze shifts to the flickering runes, his face hardening. “But be cautious—there’s something wrong here. These runes... they seem to be interacting with the shards we are carrying."
Duergar Captive:The Duergar prisoner, still bound and slumped against the wall, watches the party with cold, calculating eyes. As the hum of the runes grows louder and their glow flickers, a smirk creeps across his face. He chuckles low and deep, the sound rumbling in his throat like gravel.
“Fools,” he sneers, his voice thick with disdain. “You meddle with forces beyond your reckoning. Do you feel it? The magic breaking down? You’ve brought this on yourselves.”His smirk widens, eyes gleaming with cruel amusement. “When the bars fall, they’ll come for you first. Not even your god will save you then.”He leans back, still bound, his laughter echoing through the chamber as the runes flicker dangerously.
What do you do next?
5minutes have passed
Current Time: 3:26 PM
Date: Fourthday , 24 , Alturiak , 1742
Temperature: 55°
Current Phase: Exploration
The Rune Fails, Unleashing the Creature
As the Howlbears exchange worried glances, Mutt’s mage hand silences the Duergar with a gag of cloth, stuffing it in the prisoner’s mouth. The Duergar’s muffled voice turns to a sneer, but Mutt isn’t interested in what the captive has to say anymore. His summoned hand gives the bound dwarf a middle finger before turning back to the group.
“Quiet now. The non-captives are talking,” Mutt growls, his eyes locking on the crackling energy of the runes. “I think we should head back the way we came until we decide what to do about those… things. I don’t like the way those runes are looking.” He readies his crossbow, slowly backing toward the door.
Fizzbum, eyes wide with horror, stands close to Mutt. “Hey all, these things aren’t natural! I don’t know what they do, but I don’t think we should hang around here much longer with these crystals buzzing away.” He shivers at the sight of the grotesque figures behind the bars. “I think we should back up a bit and discuss how to deal with those nasties. Whatcha think, friends?”
As they begin to move, Fizzbum carefully steps back, his eyes darting between the runes and the door. But just as he reaches the doorway, the hum in the air shifts. What started as a faint buzz now surges into a chaotic, unsettling vibration. The runes are growing unstable—dangerously so.
Uptharr, his voice carrying both urgency and dread, steps forward, gripping his flail tightly. “We need to move. Now,” he commands, his eyes flicking to the Chardalyn shards in their possession. “The Chardalyn… it’s disrupting the magic. These runes—they’re failing! Helm’s light, we must leave before this all comes crashing down.”
But it’s too late.
With a sharp crack, the glow of one of the runes flickers violently and then dies out. In an instant, the containment magic holding one of the cells fails completely. From within the darkness, a low, otherworldly growl emerges, filling the chamber with a chilling sound. The creature within—twisted by fungus and Chardalyn—lurches toward the cell Bars, as it is fixated on the party.
The thing inside the cell doesn’t move slowly, like the party might have expected. Instead, as the containment spell shatters, the creature moves with shocking speed. Its strength is immediately evident as it claws at the bars of the cell, the sharp screech of metal filling the air. One by one, the iron bars bend and snap under its monstrous strength, ripping free from their stone anchors with terrifying ease.
With a final, deafening crash, the last of the cell’s bars are torn away, and the creature is free. Its clouded, lifeless eyes fixate on the party, and with unnatural speed, it lunges toward them, its body a twisted mass of fungal growths and jagged Chardalyn shards.
As the party is retreating from the room, they can hear the eerie snarl and growl of the creature as it tears apart it's cell and heads straight for the door.
Decide your choice:
Roll initiative and turn to fight.
Exit the room and close the door
Do something else (describe your action)
1 minutes have passed
Current Time: 3:27 PM
Date: Fourthday , 24 , Alturiak , 1742
Temperature: 55°
Current Phase: Exploration
The Fungal Horror Battle
The battle begins with the Fungal Horror showing its ferocity, swiftly leaping across the battlefield with alarming speed.
Melee Attack: The creature pounces on the bound Duergar prisoner, claws slashing with deadly precision, tearing into the prisoner’s flesh with savage fury. The bound Duergar lets out a scream as 16 points of slashing damage leaves him helpless and bloody. The Fungal Horror snarls, its twisted claws ripping through the prisoner’s body, rendering him lifeless with another brutal strike, dealing 10 more points of damage. The Duergar is no more.
Move: The Fungal Horror then advances toward the party, its presence ominous, as it moves another 10 feet closer, menacing the heroes.
Move: Azalie, determined to bring the creature down quickly, moves swiftly, closing the distance to bring herself into position.
Bonus Spell Cast: With a stern voice, Azalie casts Hunter’s Mark on the Fungal Horror, her focus intense. "We need to kill this one quick. Mutt, pay attention to the runes. How do we keep them going?"
Range Attack: She follows her incantation by notching an arrow, eyes narrowed with deadly precision. "I hope this at least stings a little." However, despite her sharp aim, the radiant energy of her blessed arrow seems absorbed by the Chardalyn shards in the creature’s flesh. Instead of hurting it, the creature heals 3 points, its wounds closing slightly, leaving the party bewildered.
Move: Mellon, following Azalie’s command, Stays near her.
Move: Fizzbum moves into range, his mind racing as he decides to take action.
Cast a Spell: He conjures a ball of flame in his hand, the heat flickering brightly. With a swift motion, Fizzbum hurls the fire at the Fungal Horror, but his aim is off. The flame sails past the creature, hitting the wall harmlessly.
Move: Fueled by rage and now revitalized, Dorf rushes toward the Fungal Horror, ready for combat.
Melee Attack: With a fierce battle cry, Dorf swings his enchanted warpick, Precious, toward the creature. The weapon connects with a mighty blow, dealing 10 points of damage. However, the Fungal Horror looms, seemingly unaffected by the force of Dorf's attack.
Dorf Save Throw vs Chardalyn Corruption: Success - As Dorf remains near the Fungal Horror, he resists the Chardalyn corruption emanating from the creature, shrugging off its dark influence.
Uptharr Save Throw vs Chardalyn Corruption: Failure - Uptharr steps into the area of the Fungal Horror’s corrupting influence, the Chardalyn shards pulsing ominously as they attempt to spread their foul infection. However, Uptharr’s divine Health shields him from the corruption. Though the dark energy surrounds him momentarily, it dissipates harmlessly, unable to take root in his holy aura. Uptharr stands firm, unaffected by the disease.
As Dorf pulls back from the Fungal Horror, the party exchanges quick, knowing glances, realizing their attacks have barely made a dent. With a coordinated nod, they agree on a tactical retreat. Dorf exits the room first, his footsteps hurried but steady as he clears the doorway. Uptharr moves swiftly, waiting just long enough for the others to be clear, then slams the heavy door shut with a resounding thud. In one swift motion, he grabs Mutt's crowbar and jams it tightly across the door, barring it with all his strength.
The room falls into a tense silence for just a heartbeat, before the horrifying sound of the Fungal Horror’s enraged snarls fills the air. The door shakes violently as the creature slams into it repeatedly, each hit reverberating through the stone walls. The party can hear its claws scratching against the wood, but for now, the door holds.
You must decide now if you are going to flee before the fungal horror gets through the door, or if you are going to stand and fight.
1 minutes have passed
Current Time: 3:28 PM
Date: Fourthday , 24 , Alturiak , 1742
Temperature: 55°
Current Phase: Exploration
The Fungal Horror Unleashed
The twisted creature tears through the bars of its cell, ripping the steel as though it were nothing more than paper. The screech of metal echoes through the chamber, and the sheer strength of the fungal horror freezes the Howlbears in place for a split second.
Dorf steps forward, his eyes wide with excitement rather than fear. “This looks like it could be some fun,” he mutters. Without hesitation, he grabs the bound Duergar and throws him in front of the party, hoping to buy some time. “Uptharr, let’s block it at the doorway! And I think we need these crystals as far from those runes as possible!”
Uptharr nods, quickly moving to help. “Helm’s light protect us... but Dorf is right. We can’t let this thing out. If the crystals are disrupting the runes, we need to act fast.” He helps secure the door as best he can, his brow furrowed with concern.
Azalie watches in horror as the beast claws its way through the cell bars, her heart pounding in her chest. “No…” she whispers, feeling true fear for the first time. The memory of her old master flashes through her mind—his experiments with Chardalyn shards, the twisted creatures he created, and how even a powerful wizard struggled to contain their monstrous strength.
“Get back! Close the door! Leave him!” Azalie shouts, grabbing Mutt by the shirt and pulling him back. Her hands are shaking, and for a moment, she feels overwhelmed by the fear of what this creature could do. But she forces herself to stand firm, pulling out her blessed arrows. “My blessed arrow did no damage… we need to think of something!” She paces back and forth, her mind racing. “Fizz, what do you know about Chardalyn shards? Mutt? Dorf? I can’t believe I can’t remember!”
She slaps her forehead in frustration, her mind spinning. “My master used the shards for wicked things… I’ve seen creatures tear wizards apart with these things embedded in them! We can’t let it get loose. What if it gets to Caer-Konig?”
Mutt takes a few large steps away from the doorway, glancing at the door as Uptharr slides his crowbar into place. His crossbow trembles slightly in his hands. Seeing Azalie’s panic, he commands his mage hand to gently squeeze her face, pulling her attention toward him. “We are not going to die here today, Azalie,” he says with a smile. “And do you know why? Because we are too damn pretty.”
Mutt finishes loading one of his petrification bolts into his crossbow. “As far as we know, that thing only kills the ugly ones. It’s only killed Duergar so far.” He flashes a quick grin before adding, “Radiant magic healed it, and Dorf’s blade barely scratched it. If we can’t kill it, maybe we can trap it somewhere it can’t get out.”
He points toward the pit under the drawbridge. “What about luring it into the pit? Maybe it’s not so good at climbing.”
Azalie nods slowly, her mind clearing as Mutt’s words sink in. “My master… he said something once,” she says, her voice trembling slightly. “Something about corrupting living beings with Chardalyn. He found a way to weaken their defenses, but it had something to do with a different kind of magic—one that exposed the core of the corruption.”
Uptharr turns, his eyes narrowing. “Exposing the core? That’s it! If we can weaken the Chardalyn shards, maybe we can expose the creature’s weak spot. But how?”
Azalie takes a deep breath. “It was… thunder. Thunder damage. It disrupts the magic and weakens the corruption.”
The group exchanges tense glances, understanding dawning on their faces. Just then, another heavy thud echoes through the chamber as the beast slams its body against the door, making it shudder. The wooden frame creaks and groans under the strain, the sound growing louder with each hit. The creature’s unnatural strength threatens to tear the door apart at any moment.
They all know—there isn’t much time before the monster breaks through.
5 minutes have passed
Current Time: 3:33 PM
Date: Fourthday , 24 , Alturiak , 1742
Temperature: 55°
Current Phase: Exploration
The Fungal Horror Breaks Free
As the Howlbears gather in the hallway, their faces a mix of determination and tension, the door at the end of the hall continues to shudder under the relentless pounding of the fungal horror. Each impact echoes through the stone corridor, accompanied by a sickening creak of wood and the sharp hiss of air escaping from the gaps in the doorframe. The creature's strength is evident—it's only a matter of time before it bursts through.
Azalie works quick with the gift from Fizz and the pep from Mutt. She looks at the door as it flex’s under the determination of the horror. She keeps one eye on the crowbar. An eerie smell seems to be leaking through the tiny gaps.
“I’m going to make a pressure plate trap. It will activate the minute the door opens, or, well, falls. The frost bomb will go off and he’ll have to save himself or be stuck.”
Azalie looks at Fizz, “That’s where you come in Fizz. You need to thunder fart right at his bony carcass, This must be a corrugated attack.”
Azalie keeps working on the trap, watching the door, and explaining her plan. She finds herself wondering if she may have made the wrong choice to stay and fight.
“Let’s get our shards stowed away. That way we don’t disrupt the runes.” She doesn’t think they can handle 5 of these things. “We have to get to his core. Then we can free it from the wizards horrible experiment’s.”
“Mutt, some bardic inspiration for our friend Fizz. Uptharr, light up your valor. We got some wrongs to right.” Azalie feels the adrenaline pulsing through her veins.
She rubs the hilt of her dagger, strangely it doesn’t give her much comfort but the familiar touch helps her zone in. “Guess I can’t ask him for a date?” She catches herself thinking aloud, “Not that I’m into that.” Embarrassedly looking towards her friends.
The team works feverishly to finish any preparations. The horror will be upon them soon. The door reverberating with every hit from the beast. The smell is getting stronger, the sound louder, Azalie’s heart beats harder.
Her pack is on the ground and she changes her armor to something stronger. She digs through it to get all the provisions she needs. She stands her arrows in the ground ahead of her of easy access. Pulls out her oil and soaks a rope in it.
“What can I do with these pitons?” She holds them up for their friends to see and the door rattles and bends violently. “He’s coming. Let’s make sure we’re ready when that thing comes through.”
Mutt squeezes his eyes shut and tries to focus on the image of the runes just before they failed. Opening his eyes a second later, he shakes his head anxiously. “We can’t reactivate containment runes without whatever wand, staff, or rune key was used to create them in the first place. Doesn’t matter either way though. That rune has failed beyond repair and there’s no way to restore the containment magics. We make a stand here or we run.”
Dorf plants himself firmly, gripping his axe, a grin spreading across his face. “I say we fight.” he growls, ready to engage the moment the creature charges.
Fizzbum nods solemnly, his eyes flicking between his teammates. “This thing’s nature is corrupted beyond anything I’ve seen. We can’t let it get out.” He hands Azalie a Blizzard bomb, and as she finishes setting the trap, he begins flipping through his journal frantically, trying to recall anything about thunder spells and Chardalyn. Fizzbum’s knowledge of fungus tells him that the type used to animate the dead is most likely a variant of a myconid spore—a rare, corrupt strain that can infect corpses and turn them into servants. He remembers reading that these spores are particularly aggressive when fused with dark magic, such as the Chardalyn-infused ones he's seeing now. The combination not only animates the body but also gives the creature unnatural strength and speed.
The door continues to shudder and crack, the wooden frame bending under the force of the fungal horror’s blows. The creature’s otherworldly growls grow louder, and the rancid stench of rot wafts through the gaps, making the air thick and foul.
Azalie finishes the trap and stands, wiping sweat from her brow. “It’s ready. The frost bomb will go off as soon as the door opens.” She looks to the party. “Take positions! We’ll need to hit it hard and fast.”
The Howlbears quickly organize themselves, placing obstacles in the hallway—broken barrels, a heavy stone chair from the nearby wizard’s quarters, and some debris dragged from the corners of the room. They create a makeshift barricade, hoping to funnel the creature’s charge.
Just as they finish setting up, the door splinters open with a deafening crack. Wood flies through the air as the fungal horror barrels through, its body covered in black Chardalyn shards and dark fungal growths. The monster’s eyes lock onto the party, filled with a terrifying, lifeless hunger.
Instructions for players:
Azalie, please make a "Survival" check, to determine the quality of your trap, before I resolve what happens when it is set off.
All players, decide where on the map you wish to start. Please give me a coordinate for your starting position.
All players (Mutt you are lead on this since you made the suggestion), You may place 3 obstacles on the map to create a barricade or difficult terrain. A Barrell, a Chair and a Wood Crate.
All Players, roll initiative, you will get a surprise round before the Fungal Horror rolls and is incorporated into the next round.
5 minutes have passed
Current Time: 3:38 PM
Date: Fourthday , 24 , Alturiak , 1742
Temperature: 55°
Current Phase: Combat
Player Replies Below
Mutt helps direct the last piece of their makeshift barricade into position and hurriedly tosses his backpack with his chardalyn shards into the wizard’s room. He hopes that since that’s where they found the shards, that’s a safe enough distance to not react with the runes or that … thing.
Rushing over to the drawbridge lever, he double checks his crossbow. Satisfied the petrification bolt is still in place, he places his hand on the lever and tries to put on a brave face for the party. His usual bravado of confidence is showing signs of cracking, the toll of the days events starting to show on his face. The smile isn’t as wide, the lines around his eyes showin…
Azalie listens to Fizz and feels the warmth of his guidance spell. Between Mutt saying she’s pretty and Fizz’s affirmation, Azalie is feeling better and much more confident. She shrugs off the earlier fear, maybe it was indegestion.
“We must protect Fizz. He’s the only one with Thunder damage.” She gives her small, blue friend a pat on the back. “Let’s get started.”
Azalie works quick with the gift from Fizz and the pep from Mutt. She looks at the door as it flex’s under the determination of the horror. She keeps one eye on the crowbar. An eerie smell seems to be leaking through the tiny gaps.
“I’m going to make a pressure plate trap. It will activate the…
Fizz listens to the team as they discuss what to do with the monstrosity on the other side of the door. Not too many things bother Fizz, as he feels the natural world has a way of working itself out one way or another. Not to say that he hasn't been afraid a time or two on this adventure between the giants, and the ice wraiths, and even that nasty Duergar wizard. But this thing... it goes against all the laws of nature, even corrupting the use of the natural world to animate its monstrous form. Azalie's comment stirs him from his thoughts. "I agree Miss Azzy. We can't let this thing get out to the villages, or…
Mutt takes several large steps away from the door as Uptharr slides his crowbar into place. His attention is fixed on the door, his crossbow leveled and shaking slightly. Seeing the door hold, he breathes a slight sigh of relief.
He starts shifting through the crossbow bolts in his quiver and retrieved one of his last two petrification bolts. He’s in the process of loading his crossbow when he sees Azalie start to panic. He pauses loading his crossbow and summons his mage hand near her. Commanding his spectral hand to gently squeeze her face to get her attention, Mutt smiles from across the room.
“We are not going to die here today Azalie. And do you know why? Because…
“We need to think of something.” Azalie is pacing back and forth. “This door won’t hold it long.” She shuffles back, “My blessed arrow did no damage.” Her arms swinging around, as she continues an argument with herself.
“Fizz, what do you know about chardalyn shards? Mutt? Dorf? I can’t believe I can’t remember!” She smacks herself on the forehead.
She finds herself spinning in circles, her hand sore from slapping it into her palm. “My master used the shards for wicked things. I’ve seen a child sized creature rip off a wizards arm before!” She looks back and forth waiting for any of her friends to meet her energy.
“I say we kill this thing. What if it gets…