You stand in a dank, wet, catacomb void of any light -- always a good way to start a day. Our crew finds themselves underground, ankle-deep in moss and algae. Unlit torches litter the walls just waiting to be lit, but the crew opts to take a darkvision-infused stealth approach in the previously partially spelunked by Nom halls. All is quiet. Rounding a second corner a larger room is found as is a strong (Mokon tested) barred gate. In the room, two levers, a one-tenth-hourglass, and a damp well-crafted demon painting patiently wait. Through the gate three sarcophagi and two separate wall levers. Fey, Glug, and Alora get to work manually and mage-handually flipping the levers like they owned the joint -- doors slammed open and closed in a parallel hallway as Mokon creeps through, door by door. Glug notices a lever inside the hallway, unlike the others that line the outer wall. Glug gives the lever a good ole mage-handy. As the room rumbles, loose stone and debris tumble from the ceiling and walls. Loud stone on stone grinding emanates from the end of the hall as eight large holes begin to open. Yellow jelly pours forth puddling on the floor below. Glug and Mokon curiously watch as the jaundiced ichor begins creep forward. Levers begin to fly -- too quickly in fact -- as the group begins to simultaneously and quickly toggle the levers all the hallways doors slam shut trapping Mokon inside. Feverishly Glug, Alora, and Fey try to find an answer -- Mokon comes through with a callback to the timepiece. Taking time to be in the ten-second moment the group releases Mokon -- more slowly -- moments before he gets close and personal with the ooze.
Glug quickly attacks the Vaseline-eque foe with a well place knife of ice, shaving off a piece of the creature which shatters to the ground. The crew follows suit with fire and steel. Mokon prefers the odds of more enemies cleaving their assailant in two, but not before engulfing it in holy flame. Alora tries out her new daylight ability with less than exciting results to the eyeless blobs. A second foe sneaks up behind Fey. The team adjusts their strategy accordingly -- Alora creates a bonfire from below and Fey a firebolt from the front. The killing blow is quickly dealt by Glug and he takes his wooden shaft, buries it deeply within the quivering mound of pudding, and blows his charges deep within, blowing out its rear and covering the far wall with sticky, thick splooze -- with and audible sigh (which is weird for a creature with no mouth) the creature degenerates into an extremely relaxed puddle across the floor. (There is a faint smell of cigarette smoke in the air.)
The crew re-commits themselves to lever duty. After many failed attempts Fey takes a closer look at feng-shui of the room focusing her attention on a specific demon painting and what secrets lie behind. Two round holes in the wall peer into the next room where two more levers are found. Now that all the pieces of the puzzle are found the gate puzzle is efficiently solved. Investigations of the sarcophagi result in disappointment, but a stone pillar in the adjacent room fills all with cat-like curiosity. A faint sob and the words “down-the-hatch” float on the stagnant air. Peering around more corners, Glug finds a strange man with spastic eyes continually repeating the phrase “down the hatch” no matter the muse. A ladder going into the rocky ceiling is another point of question, but not before the group beats a dead stone over and over and over… and over. Hours later the group admits defeat and leaves the catacomb via the aforementioned ladder. Once outside and a collective deep breath is achieved. The crew recommits to the search heading back into the catacombs to push around the regular-ass-nothing-special-at-all stone pedestal. Once again the group quits this stupid catacomb with blissful “down the hatch” lyrics on repeat.
Night is upon us as the group does a quick once over of the sinking tower, with nothing of interest being found, they decide a slanted rest in a semi-safe place is better than no rest at all and pitch camp. Alora takes some time to detect magic which sheds some pink enchanted light on their hatchy friend, Fey takes a closer look at her fluid-filled dagger swearing it moved by itself while receiving little gifts from her small furry friend, Glug plays checker with Hatch realizing he understands more than it would seem, Mokon becomes a simply amazing mud and stick artist with an exact replica of his deity, and Nom tries communing with her favorite/hated sword and works to create ShroomLaxTM -- A laxative for those who have a significant amount shard in their lower bowel. Unfortunately, there was not enough confidence in the final two mushrooms (whittled down from 10 with the help of the party) to help relieve Hatch of his blockage. The night concludes with a well-rested adventuring party.
The next day the quest for maps continues. After not making friends with a few passersby with bad news and off-color comments the party stumbles across a covered wagon with the words “Yaekov Rasputin’s Fortune Telling and Motivation Speaking”. Knocking receives no response when Fey hears a voice from the trees. Following the audible cues, the group (all except Mokon who tries to one-up any nearby oxen) find Yaekov, a short dwarven male with simple clothing and a confident-in-his-manhood-sized hammer, trying to talk his faithful beef critter into eating her dinner. Noticing your presence Yaekov quickly converts to sales-mode offering to tell the fortunes of the group for a modest price. Fey goes first, asking to touch something of importance to her Yaekov puts out his hand. Gerald is offered as that item. After a brief discussion Yaekov releases Gerald, and pulls out a dark illustrated deck. Placing card after card Fey’s fortune is read. “Age does not lessen the bonds of friendship -- a difficult choice will be made.” The next in line is Nom who produces her sword and by mistake, her bracer -- Yaekov recoils at the touch offering the free advice “Be aware of associated items if you so choose” and the fortune “Rash choices from your past have removed options from your future -- history can be a powerful teacher”. Glug enters the wagon, but before a fortune can be read a commotion is heard outside.
Breeze has appeared holding her side panting heavily. Her twelve children have been taken ad she pleads for assistance. The crew instantly says yes and rushes to the site of a slaver mine.