It looked like nobody else was going to talk to the Bugbear, so Gamard decided to do so himself. He got up from the massage bed and, still wearing nothing but a towel, stood before the bound bugbear.

“Listen,” he said to the beast, “I’m sure you’d like to get back to your mistress of the undead.” He tapped the symbol of the enflamed rose on the creature’s armor.
“Also, I’m pretty sure you don’t want to die. So, we could arrange something. When morning comes, we are going to leave this room. We don’t like loose ends, but if you’re helpful, we might let you live. Tell us how you got to this place.”

(OOC: I don’t see a reason to play this whole thing out, IF he’s even willing to talk. The point is to get as much information as possible about this place, then we rest. After that, we leave him tied up in the room.)

The bugbear leader flexed his injured hand and glared at the adventurers before him.

“Listen,” The Khord said to the beast, “I’m sure you’d like to get back to your mistress of the undead.” He tapped the symbol of the enflamed rose on the creature’s armor. “Also, I’m pretty sure you don’t want to die. So, we could arrange something. When morning comes, we are going to leave this room. We don’t like loose ends, but if you’re helpful, we might let you live. Tell us how you got to this place."

"I am already dead Squator, The bugbear said wearily using another term for a Khord, "If I return to the Mistress now, I will only be killed over a period of days to serve as example to others not to fail. So I ask for a clean death only and I will tell you what I know."

(assuming you agree.)

"We were sent here by the Mistress to slay the wizard who inhabits this place. The bolts on the crossbow are made specifically to slay mages. He is about to undergo the transformatiom. I do not know what that means but the mistress feared it happening so we were sent to stop it and kill him. Now you know why I do not wish to return. The necklace the Gelfling is playing with is a spell that would return us home. So unless you wish to meet the Mistress, You might not want to break that crystal."

(comments, questions)

"We were teleport here by the Mistress and entered into the room with steam. When we saw you we thought you were minions of the wizard. We were not "trapped" like you, but the Mistress did not provide a map for us."

(anything to ask or add?)

After the Bugbear relates his story, he calmly and stoically accepts his fate, not seeking any last minute betrayal or tricks. He dies without a sound.

Watches are set up and rest is needed as it has been a very very long day. You eat from the food you have and the drink you can find. The pool's water seems to purify itself of the blood within minutes.

Although you set watches, for some reason sleep overtakes the first watch like a wave and all of you in the evening. You wake up - presumably in the morning, and you are refreshed and fully recovered from any wounds. You did not have any dreams you can remember.

Tim to find another portal to leave this room behind.

With a bit of pulling and lifting Dudley was able to get Gam out of the water. It was lucky to have Wembley aiding. It was also lucky they were dealing with a Khord, once started there wasn’t that much to pull out of the water.

Grem soon was on his feet healing himself. Dudley was glad to see that as he was low on spells and need time to pray to again have Shinara’s full blessings.

As others attend to the remaining attacker Dudley busied himself preparing to rest. The other were better at handling that sort of thing and besides it didn’t sound as if it would be that pleasant. Taking the pack he removed food and drink for the party so they might revive themselves. When he looked back to the where Gamard and others had been questioning the bugbear the creature was stretched out and must have died. Dudley waved the others over to share in the meal and then found a place rest and say his devotions.

Dudley awoke from a sound rest and didn’t even remember falling asleep. Saying another pray to Shinara to thank her for the good fortune to find such a peaceful place to rest; at least after those hairy creatures had been dealt with. Dudley packed up the supplies and again readied himself to follow this band on the search of other good fortunes.

The small cidal rogue listened intently to the bugbear's story... felt a small bit of empathy for the creature as it shared it's sad (but interesting) tale.

When his life was ended quickly, Wembley turned away quietly, "Well, at least he didn't have to suffer too much in this life. Maybe it was better this way. His mistress sounds like a terrible, terrible person. I can't think why anyone would want to work for her." Turning to Gamard, he asked thoughtfully, "What do you think happens to him after death? Do you think Solanis would reward him for helping us out? I hope so... it sure was nice of him to answer your question."

Walking over to Mal, the cidal gently laid his hand the swashbuckler and said softly, "I'm glad you didn't cut him up too bad. Thanks, Mal."

Moving to the massage room with the red haired masseuse, the cidal called to his companions, "I'll take the last watch. Wake me for my turn."

Laying down on the table, he gently asked the masseuse with yawn, "Something gentle and soft please. Maybe just a light rubbing of my back, until I fall asleep."

Very soon Wembley was fast asleep....

The information the Bugbear gave them wasn’t much, but it sounded genuine and it was at least another piece of a larger puzzle. Though a bigger picture remained to be revealed, this was a helpful step in understanding what they were up against.

Gamard thanked the Bugbear for his honesty and, borrowing a knife or other sort of blade, cut the creature’s throat. It seemed the easiest and least painful way he could bring death.

Standing up, he didn’t feel like having his back massaged anymore. Still wrapped in a towel he sank down against one of the walls. Wembley came up to him speaking of Solanis:
"What do you think happens to him after death? Do you think Solanis would reward him for helping us out? I hope so... it sure was nice of him to answer your question."

Grimly, as was his trademark, he looked at the Cidal and smiled a humorless smile.
“I think,” he said, “that he is hunting humans on the wicked fields of The Ghost Singer’s realm. I think it was Solanis’s mercy that put us here to kill him, so he would not have to die where his Mistress could raise him as an undead minion.”

“We should get some rest.” He added after a short pause.

(OOC: The next morning he will pray for new spells and safekeeping for his companions. After that, it’s off to the nearest portal.)

"I am already dead Squator, The bugbear said wearily using another term for a Khord, "If I return to the Mistress now, I will only be killed over a period of days to serve as example to others not to fail. So I ask for a clean death only and I will tell you what I know."

"We were sent here by the Mistress to slay the wizard who inhabits this place. The bolts on the crossbow are made specifically to slay mages. He is about to undergo the transformatiom. I do not know what that means but the mistress feared it happening so we were sent to stop it and kill him. Now you know why I do not wish to return. The necklace the Gelfling is playing with is a spell that would return us home. So unless you wish to meet the Mistress, You might not want to break that crystal."
Alôndas listened intently as the bugbear spoke and when he mentioned that the necklace would take him back to this thing's Mistress, he decided NOT to don the necklace. He looked at it once more and then slipped it into one of his pouches after wrapping it in a piece of cloth to protect it.

While he didn’t feel any regret at the ending of the Bugbear's life, he did admire it's dedication and courage when faced with death. After that unpleasantness was over, they turned to eating and then watches were set and they turned in for the night.

He had taken the first watch as he had said, but he was shortly into his meditation when he suddenly drifted off. He awoke with a start and realized that some time had passed since; he didn’t know how long but it felt like the entire night had passed. Not that they knew what time of day it was, but he knew something had caused him to pass out; this troubled him as he didn't like not being in control of himself.

Once everyone was up; he assisted in examining the other portals for any sign of which way to go. Checking out the portal in the room that the bugbear's came from, he turned to the group and offered.

“Perhaps we should take the one the bugbear's came through,” he said, “we can perhaps assume that they took care of any dangers that may lurk in it's destination.”

Whatever was decided, he was ready to defend the group with his magic, which was now back to full potential after the night's rest.

(OOC: So if I understand your post DM, the first watch fell asleep mysteriously and so everyone slept through the entire 'night' as it were. If I am reading it wrong, let me know and I will edit my post.)

With nothing really to do in the questioning of the bugbear and taking of its life. Crow tended to checking his new gear over once again to make sure it was usable. The decision to rest here was a welcome one to the Syl Ranger and as his watch was not the first was asleep in minutes.

However upon waking in the morning Crow realized he had not been woken for his watch and was almost immediately seeking the guard before him angrily. It was then, he like the rest, found out that they had all slept through the whole night and it was not by accident. The talk quickly turned to doorways once more.

“Perhaps we should take the one the bugbear's came through,” Alôndas offered, “we can perhaps assume that they took care of any dangers that may lurk in its destination.”

Crow nodded in quiet agreement though he really did not care which way they traveled. He had begun to suspect that where they were was one big maze for whoever this wizard was and he could quite possibly be watching them run it. In the end, live or die Crow thought, right now this small group was in the middle of a game.

Apon moving away from the interrogation, Mal paid little heed to his surroundings, finding himself almost angry that he had not been allowed to cause the vile monster pain. Anger that faded quickly as the heat of battle seeped away, leaving him disappointed in himself. He was better than that. Better than the man he had once been. At least, he hoped he was. But the sight of the goblinoids had struck a long-buried chord in himself, and it was all he could do to not tear it apart where it lie.
As it turned out, his companions had been correct. Torture would not loosen the Bugbear's tongue. Only the promise of a good death did that, and that was something the Swashbuckler would never have offered, or complied to. However, sitting by the pool, feet dipped in the water as he wiped his blade clean, he chose to listen in as the hairy creature began to talk.

"We were sent here by the Mistress to slay the wizard who inhabits this place. The bolts on the crossbow are made specifically to slay mages. He is about to undergo the transformatiom. I do not know what that means but the mistress feared it happening so we were sent to stop it and kill him. Now you know why I do not wish to return. The necklace the Gelfling is playing with is a spell that would return us home. So unless you wish to meet the Mistress, You might not want to break that crystal."

Mal looked up at that, his interest struck. He had thought this monster a minion of the Wizard. And why wouldn't he? This was the Wizard's domain. But this, this was good. They now knew two things without a doubt. The Wizard was indeed alive, and here in this house of Horror, and he had powerful enemies. Perhaps another Mage? Perhaps something worse. But the real interest came from it's first sentence. 'Transformation'. Mal knew little of Wizards, compared to most scholars and philosophers, but even a boy from the streets of Pardinal's great harbor had heard storied of great wizards, and their darkest desires. To Transform... The man had an idea as to what the bug bear spoke of, but chose to not yet put words to it. For if he was correct, then he and his companions had no hope of getting out of this place alive.

Mal listened no more to the beast's words, hearing all he needed. Even it's execution did not register. Only when he felt a small hand touch him did he come back to reality, feeling a cold sweat start to take hold.
"I'm glad you didn't cut him up too bad. Thanks, Mal." He heard Wembley say, and looked into the Cidal's face, but he was already moving away to a massage bed. A small smile touched the Swashbuckler's lips. Again he mused to himself of the Cidal's true lack of concern for their predicament. A Quality the Swashbuckler would truly kill for.


A short while, and a small meal later, Mal came to the conclusion that he would need to speak with the Syln Mage if he wished to express his fears without causing too much concern. But even as the thought came to him, he could feel himself dozing. "Perhaps in the morning..." He murmured aloud, his last thought before drifting out....


As The party woke, one by one, with Mal closer to the end of the chain, plans were already being put into motion.
“Perhaps we should take the one the bugbear's came through,” Alôndas offered, “we can perhaps assume that they took care of any dangers that may lurk in its destination.”

Shaking sleep from his eyes, and standing, ignoring his still wet boots, he moved to join his party, saying nothing as of yet, but offering a slight nod in agreement. His mind was still haunted by his theory from the night before. Thoughts that only grew and multiplied as he considered it more. But he couldn't very well pull the mage away now, in the middle of the conversation. He would have to wait. Better to hold it inside for now, than to speak a word such as this before the assembled crew. No one wanted to hear such things, and Mal did not wish to say them. Not until he had more evidence. For truly, there are few topics one could bring up that inspired as much fear as 'Lich'......

Dudley went over items gathered from the creature and carefully selected items. The coin purse he slipped into his pack, his Goddess had provide good fortune for good fortune. He added the three potions to the bottles already collect and the meat would handy for a meal later. Looking closer at the meat the Cleric realized this was most likely not animal protein. Folding the packet back up he laid it beside the creature.

Eyeing the belt sheath and dagger from the bugbear leader he decided it would come in handy to cut the portions of food for the party and grabbed it up with the belt. Wrapping the belt about his waist he found the first task for the dragger was to size the belt.

(OOC:If one of the packs is better for carrying the supplies he will switch it out.)

Without a clear sense of direction, the party decides to try the steam room exit. Ivan is not pleased with this decision by he goes with it anyway.

Upon finding the portal you step into another room. A large U-shaped dining table and 12 chairs take up half the room. Tapestries that once covered the walls have been tom down and are mounded in one corner to a depth of about 4 feet, covering several of the chairs and part of the table. Two fireplaces glow with fires. There are black openings in each of the four walls. A short, two legged, watermelon-shaped, metallic object lies under the table.

There are ten Giant (about 4 feet long, so almost large dog size)) rats in this room, with a majority of them feasting on the flesh of two bodies lying on the floor. Judging by the blood, they were killed recently. The rats have the same glowing red eyes and partially decomposed bodies that the Mice had in the kitchen. They are undead and they are leaving their feast to move towards you.

Ivan screams rather loudly, "By the Catlord! It's the Rats again! You said you killed them!" He frantically searches around for a place to climb up.

“Well, apparently, master Ivan,” Gamard replied to the Cat’s outburst of fear, “we have a problem sorting rats from mice.”

He touched the golden orb on his headband, the symbol of the sun. Straightening his back he pulled himself to his full height, trying his best to tower over the rats even though his Khordaldrum form was not that much higher than they were. It was all about conviction, and he had plenty of that.

“Foul creatures!” he called as he stepped forward. “By the Sky-Light of purity, the Heavenly Orb, Father of Morning and Hallowed Circle I banish the darkness pulsing in your veins! I grant you rest eternal!”
He added, under his breath: “Or go cower in a corner so my friends can beat you to your second death.”

(OOC: in case it wasn’t clear: he’s trying to turn them.)

Alôndas stepped through the portal and examined their new surroundings; seeing the Giant Rats he sighed.

"I despise rats," he says as he steps to the side of the group to give himself a clear shot at the creatures.

He sets his staff against his shoulder inside his left arm as he raises them both out in front of him; his lips moving in ancient words of power. With his fingers spread out, his thumbs touching, he completes the spell and launches a sheet of flame at the advance of the creatures.

"Ware the fire!" He yells to the group to warn them not to step into his path lest they get hit by the spell of Burning Hands.

The party pasted into a new room. THere to their dismay they were not alone. Near a large table were a pack of zombie rats munching on a couple of bodies.

Grabbing tightly to his mace in perperation to attack he lifted his voice, "Oh my lady of fortune, extend to our party the touch of your blessing." With that the cleric of Shinara cast Bless over the party to give them advantage.

As the spell settled over the group Dudlay raised his mace and perpared to charge the nearest rat that charged him.

Casting a final glance at the blooded monsters on the floor, Mal then follows through after the rest of the company, his thoughts still on their new revelations. With each passing moment, their hope of surviving this ordeal seemed to diminish. But morale seemed to remain strong for now, and that brought a measure of relief to the Swashbuckler. The minute they lost faith was the minute they would fall.

As he faded through the gateway, now well enough accustomed to the feel of being teleported, he considered that perhaps he should follow Wembley's example. Perhaps he could seem less concerned, and as Wembley's worry-free attitude improved his morale, so his could everyone else's.

Such thoughts faded as he appeared behind the others, to gaze apon ten ghastly rats, each the size of a large dog, and sporting signs of undeath.

Immediately, the clerics began their incantations, things Mal would never understand. raising his saber, he stepped out before the main body of his allies, meaning to hack down anything that drew near the more bulnerable clerics, or poor Ivan.

((Held attack, 1st rat to go near the short members of our company gets a nice whack to the noggin.))

Wembley took a moment to let his eyes adjust to the lighting in their new room. The sight that awaited didn't please him. Like the cat, Wembley had no love for the undead. It's not that I'm scared, the cidal reassured himself. They're just bleh...
"There's been a lot of bleh things around this place," Wembley murmured. "Our host really should take better care of his pets... unless... wait... what if the lady that sent the bugbears, sent these foul things too? Perhaps, his home is under attack. Maybe he even needs a rescue." The cidal notched a stone in his hoopak and let the missile fly at the rat nearest Gamard.

OOC: Not sure if Wembley has more than one shot, but he'll be firing at any rodents near the dwarf.