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As you approach the row of puppets, your left foot sqelches in something and skids. You have trodden in a sticky green footprint, one of a line which leads from the cupboard to the table and back again.
The cupboard before you is crudely daubed with a rune: the sign of a single arrow.
He's a real Nowhere man, sitting in his Nowhere land,
making all his Nowhere plans for Nobody.
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Horroin stays in his spot, not knowing if he would trigger a trap. He then examines the rune, trying to figure out its magical proprieties.
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[2d6=11]
You are at loss with the runes: you never saw them before and they may or may not magic as far as you know.
What is clear instead is that something leaving green sticky footprints (slightly smaller than your size) went from the cupboard to the table and then back again. No other traces are clearly visible on the floor.
He's a real Nowhere man, sitting in his Nowhere land,
making all his Nowhere plans for Nobody.
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Horroin readies his knife and walks towards the cupboard. He then opens it to see what is inside.
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You have just enough time to glimpse a small, slimy green form, cramped within the cupboard, before you are engulfed in a chocking cloud of gritty powder. You drop your knife and clutch at your face. Your eyes burn, your nose starts to run and you retch violently (lose 1 point of STAMINA). Then whatever was in the cupboard comes tumbling out and worms its way between your legs. In your conditions,m you wouldn't be able to make a grab at it, but your companions catch it relatively easily.
He's a real Nowhere man, sitting in his Nowhere land,
making all his Nowhere plans for Nobody.
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The creature tries to slither away, but your companions force it down with their weight. Although it is slippery and you are blinded, you manage to get a firm grip around its neck. You are aboutt to bring its neck on the floor when it begins to sob. You pause a moment while your vision clears, revealing the pathetic figure of a young girl, coated from head to foot in foul-smelling green slime. Cautiously you release your grasp and pick up the slender blow pipe she used to puff the blinding dust at you. Pocketing it, in order to avoid further trouble, You ask the girl her name.
He's a real Nowhere man, sitting in his Nowhere land,
making all his Nowhere plans for Nobody.
