the Old Delve

A shrine. Resting here heals the party; the gold leaf on the altar could be stripped instead. A sarcophagus stands against the wall with its lid slightly wrong.

They might have chosen to sing the third harmony, or attune the resonances — Paracelsus made the case: "I keep my hazards bottled, thank you." The party chose to endure the discord.

🔊 The discord tears at the ears and nerves, and the party comes out of it well apart, each of them having walked away from the sound in a different direction. 3 damage, and no line to speak of.

A connecting corridor. Nothing blocks the way; the party moves through.

They might have chosen to reconstruct his rounds, or leave him looking for it — Giordano Bruno made the case: "I did not survive the academy by standing in the open." The party chose to question the ghost gently.

🤝 Asked gently and given time, he remembers most of it — enough to save a march of oil, and to be a good deal calmer about the whole business. +22 score. 🎓 It is answered from three directions at once and stays answered: +25 renown.

A rattling skeleton patrol holds the room (attack 12, health 28). The party must decide how to get past it. It will not face the cleric: undead take holy damage ×1.5. A portcullis hangs raised above the passage, on a chain that still turns. Shelves sag under books nobody has audited in a century.

They might have chosen to stand and fight, or fall back — Giordano Bruno made the case: "I know a spell for this. It's called leaving." The party chose to open with a combat spell.

🔥 Fireball opens the fight, softening the monster before the first blow. ⚔️ A rattling skeleton patrol is dead before the party closes: it never gets a round. 📐 The party meets it standing as the last room left them. 🏛️ Fighting from the aisles: -1 less damage per round on top of the cover. 🌡️ A raised portcullis glows and spits where the working lands: 2 damage to whatever is near it. 🎒 2 more preparations hold besides — the ledger keeps them.

🛡️ Paracelsus walks in front, which is where the blows land first.

A chittering rat swarm holds the room (attack 8, health 20). The party must decide how to get past it. It is a swarm: spell openings hit it ×1.5. It keeps clear of the torches: weak to fire (fire damage ×1.5). Half the ceiling is on the floor, in pieces worth stepping around. Somebody stacked supplies here and never came back for them.

They might have chosen to stand and fight, or open with a combat spell — Marsilio Ficino made the case: "I have a strong feeling we should be elsewhere. Call it prophecy." The party chose to fall back.

💨 They fall back, paying 2 for the room they do not take.

Back through the same door, for the second time. Nothing here has forgotten them. It is a swarm: spell openings hit it ×1.5. It keeps clear of the torches: weak to fire (fire damage ×1.5).

They might have chosen to stand and fight, or fall back — Giordano Bruno made the case: "I know a spell for this. It's called leaving." The party chose to open with a combat spell.

🔥 The caster opens with Fireball, chosen precisely for the monster's fire weakness: spell damage ×1.5. ⚔️ A chittering rat swarm is dead before the party closes: it never gets a round. 🧱 The party fights from behind a fall of rubble: 1 less damage per round. 🏛️ Fighting from the aisles: -1 less damage per round on top of the cover. 🎒 2 more preparations hold besides — the ledger keeps them.

The dungeon itself turns hostile. The party must brace together or scatter. A pit takes up a third of the floor. The bottom is not visible.

They might have chosen to pass a plan through the stone, or send something under the slab — Giordano Bruno made the case: "I know a spell for this. It's called leaving." The party chose to shout through it.

📢 Nothing carries. Both halves eventually go the long way round and meet somewhere in the middle, having each independently fought whatever it was. 5 damage, and nobody is standing where they meant to be.

✚ That one leaves a mark on Paracelsus. Their ceiling drops to 11 for the rest of the delve.

A trap blocks the corridor. The party must disarm it, avoid it, or take the hit. A bed of rusted spikes stands out of the floor, most of them still upright. Half the ceiling is on the floor, in pieces worth stepping around.

They might have chosen to push through and take the hit, or search for a way around — Giordano Bruno made the case: "I did not survive the academy by standing in the open." The party chose to bypass it with a utility spell.

The party files through and leaves the room behind.

A chittering rat swarm holds the room (attack 8, health 20). The party must decide how to get past it. It is a swarm: spell openings hit it ×1.5. It keeps clear of the torches: weak to fire (fire damage ×1.5). A sarcophagus stands against the wall with its lid slightly wrong. A bed of rusted spikes stands out of the floor, most of them still upright.

They might have chosen to stand and fight, or open with a combat spell — Marsilio Ficino made the case: "The god counsels prudence. Loudly. Through me. Right now." The party chose to fall back.

💨 The party gives ground, 2 damage on the way out, and the room keeps what it was holding.

They are back. The room has not improved. It is a swarm: spell openings hit it ×1.5. It keeps clear of the torches: weak to fire (fire damage ×1.5).

They might have chosen to stand and fight, or fall back — Giordano Bruno made the case: "I did not survive the academy by standing in the open." The party chose to open with a combat spell.

🔥 The caster opens with Fireball, chosen precisely for the monster's fire weakness: spell damage ×1.5. ⚔️ A chittering rat swarm is dead before the party closes: it never gets a round. 📐 The party meets it standing as the last room left them. 🧱 The party fights from behind a fall of rubble: 1 less damage per round. 🏛️ Fighting from the aisles: -1 less damage per round on top of the cover. 🎒 4 more preparations hold besides — the ledger keeps them.

A library. The party can study here to learn spells. Shelves sag under books nobody has audited in a century.

They might have chosen to read the sealed texts, or study the shelves — Giordano Bruno made the case: "I know a spell for this. It's called leaving." The party chose to move on.

Nothing here needs doing. The party walks on.

The boss chamber. The Dragon Whelp of the Deep Vault waits at its center (attack 24, health 69); killing it clears the dungeon. It flinches from the cold: weak to frost (frost damage ×1.5). Pillars break the room into aisles — something to fight behind. A silvered mirror leans against the wall, and it shows the room more honestly than the room does.

They might have chosen to stand and fight, or fall back — the Craven wanted no part of the alternative. The party chose to open with a combat spell.

🔥 The caster opens with Frost Lance, chosen precisely for the monster's frost weakness: spell damage ×1.5. ☠️ Even softened, the Dragon Whelp of the Deep Vault beats the party down. 🩸 It is Marsilio Ficino standing in front of it: 14 of the 59 the party takes. 🧱 The party fights from behind a row of squat pillars: 1 less damage per round. ✨ Nothing is held back for later: the party looses everything it has, 5 workings in the one fight that matters. 🎒 4 more preparations hold besides — the ledger keeps them.

🕯️ The wick is well down the oil. 2 more marches of light, then none.

☠️ Paracelsus falls. The party's alchemist is dead; the 3 still standing march on.

☠️ Giordano Bruno falls. The party's wizard is dead; the 2 still standing march on.

☠️ Michael Maier falls. The party's alchemist is dead; one of them is still standing.

☠️ Marsilio Ficino falls. The party's cleric is dead, and there is nobody left to carry them out.