The following mumbled to a Grimlock under his breath: Under-whatsits? They just charge right in, and can’t even speak with them. Grumble, grumble Should have brought me along. grumble
Anyway, I hear they got the undead melted, like they do. Ran all the way back to the tower for more bones – at least the humans hadn’t ground them up or anything. They were all ready to eviscerate the poor little gmome-ish whatsit, too – I hear the gods were quite smug at the amount of trouble they’d caused us with just a little specialized critter….
…and then they made friends. With some very elaborate pantomime, the group managed to convince the under-whatsits to trade a map for not dying – heck, they even got Pyre’s crossbow returned, with enough bribes of alcohol.
Rested, mapped, and ready to attack the doom-rats? And magical instruments? And Imp? What kind of a lair is this, anyway?
- Got taken for a ride by some very impish folks who can cast deeper darkness at will.
- They speak Undercommon, exclusively.
- We accidentally got the undead killed (Sad! need more hill giant corpses…or fire giants?)
- Then we made friends, and got a map out of it. Cranium rats, stone golems, and stoner imps? Oh, my.
- We now know how to turn on the heater and where the fire traps are.