"Yes, just like you. Except I'm covered in wounds and I'm having trouble breathing at the moment. So, be something other than a useless sack of meat and open a door. Perhaps the drow might reward your bravery with something other than the contempt women the plane over give you. Just a thought"
"Yes, just like you. Except I'm covered in wounds and I'm having trouble breathing at the moment. So, be something other than a useless sack of meat and open a door. Perhaps the drow might reward your bravery with something other than the contempt women the plane over give you. Just a thought"
"You're wounded? Hah! The great Shar-Teel complaining of a few paper cuts? Here, drink this healing potion Alora gave me, I have no use for it. Then go open the door afterward."
Sighing yet again, Shar-Teel takes the scepter from wherever she had it and approaches the door. Meaning to place the silver end in the door first, Shar-Teel suddenly realizes who gave her that suggestion. Horrified with herself, she turns the scepter over and inserts the golden end in.
OOC: Alas, poor Shar-Teel---so very, very dead now.
This room, just like the foyer, has a silvered ceiling, so it is bright. The walls are gold-inlaid ivory. The floor is polished (common) agate. In each corner is a 9' tall statue of black iron, depicting a hulking male figure. Each bears a weapon poised to strike. To the northeast, a saw-toothed two handed sword, to the northwest, a huge spiked mace. To the southeast, a wickedly spiked morningstar, and to the southwest, a voulge (polearm). Each has a fearsome expression on its face.
Before you is a massive bronze urn, a granite sarcophagus and two iron chests. The urn is partially stoppered with a cork and a cracked golden seal. Smoke issues from the cracks.
Finding herself at the entrance of the dungeon, completely nude, Shar-Teel has a fit. After much stomping and punching of walls, she calms down long enough to decide to try and meet up with the others. Perhaps the thought of stumbling across a thoroughly deceased Kivan spurs her to action, who knows. Thus begins a mini-adventure in and of itself, strife with no peril and the lurid looting of dead party members. And plenty of nudity (for those so inclined).
Comments
"Care for you? You are nothing but 'ibblith' to me."
*Tosses potion at Shar-Teel*
OOC: Alas, poor Shar-Teel---so very, very dead now.
Damn. Well I'm not going to try to wrestle it off a big girl like you. Instead I'm running in the other direction.
When the doors swing open I will attempt to hid in the shadows.
http://www.wizards.com/dnd/images/ToH_Gallery/ToHGraphic30.jpg
This room, just like the foyer, has a silvered ceiling, so it is bright. The walls are gold-inlaid ivory. The floor is polished (common) agate. In each corner is a 9' tall statue of black iron, depicting a hulking male figure. Each bears a weapon poised to strike. To the northeast, a saw-toothed two handed sword, to the northwest, a huge spiked mace. To the southeast, a wickedly spiked morningstar, and to the southwest, a voulge (polearm). Each has a fearsome expression on its face.
Before you is a massive bronze urn, a granite sarcophagus and two iron chests. The urn is partially stoppered with a cork and a cracked golden seal. Smoke issues from the cracks.
The iron men of visage grim do more than
meets the viewer's eye.
You've left and left and found my Tomb
and now your soul will die.
Does the smoke appear to be normal smoke from a fire?