L2-20. The Under-Store Collapse

Inhabitants

Howling Moon Clan stragglers (2 orcs, wounded):

• Each is at half HP, one with speed −10 ft (sprained ankle). Disadvantage on first attack this encounter.
• Gear: crude spears, a short knife, basket of edible cave-fungi (6 rations) and 6 cleaned cave-fish.
• Morale/Behavior: Desperate and scared; they’ve seen the Ruby Ghouls drag four clanmates from L2-19 “down to the red doctors.” They will parley if offered water/food or a way up; on any horn or shout they bolt NE across the slab.
• Hooks: If captured and treated, they babble warnings about troglodytes hunting east of the river and a “stink-lizard nest.”

Signs of Troglodytes

(east bank & slab)

• Tracks: Survival (or Ranger’s Natural Explorer) DC 12 finds three-toed prints and a tail drag in damp silt.
• Musk: Perception DC 11 notes a rancid, oily saurian musk emanating from the SE exit beyond the stream.
• Spoor: Investigation DC 12 finds cracked snail shells and fish spines stacked near a dripline—cache behavior.
• Ambush wisdom: Nature DC 12 suggests they prefer low light and noise, attacking at the far bank or when prey is in the water.

Stone Slab Carvern by 3orcs

Stream & Movement (mechanics)

• Entering the water: Creature must make STR (Athletics) DC 13 each round or be swept 20 ft SW and knocked prone on collision with a wall/rock (1d4 bludgeoning).
• Swimming pace: Half speed against current, normal with current. Creatures with swim speed have advantage.
• Climbing out: Athletics DC 12 at rough bank; DC 14 at smooth bank; a roped aid reduces DC by 2.
• Falling from slab: Take 1d4 bludgeoning; make the DC 13 check immediately.

Collapsed Store (SE pocket)

• Access: Carved steps descend 20 ft to a tilted floor buried in rubble.
• Hazard: Any thunder/explosive effect causes a rockfall (Dex save DC 13, 2d6 bludgeoning; area lightly obscured).
• Search: Investigation DC 13 (10 minutes) yields:
• Temple crate bands stamped with Wee Jas (paper proof),
• Oil of Slipperiness (1 sealed clay ampoule under a broken lid),
• Lantern of red glass (functionally a bullseye lantern, casts crimson beam),
• 2× incense bricks (holy, 10 gp each; advantage to one Religion check to consecrate in L1-20).
• Buried route: A narrow crawl under fallen timbers (Squeezing) leads 15 ft east and re-emerges on the river’s far bank (one-way unless cleared; Athletics DC 12 to shift a beam for two-way use).

Encounters & Reactions

• Orc Stragglers:
• Parley: Offer food/bandage → Reaction shifts to Indifferent; they share paths and clocks (“horn brings the red doctors”).
• Cornered: If cut off from the slab, they fight with disadvantage until bloodied, then Disengage and leap into the stream (Athletics at disadvantage).
• Troglodyte Pressure (optional): On any loud fight or if PCs linger 3+ rounds after crossing east, roll 1d4 troglodytes to shadow (not attack) from the SE exit; attack only if a PC is in the water or isolated.

Integration & Response

• Noise: Horn/shout here triggers R2/R4/R6 checks from L2-19 and the Praxis cluster. However, the stream’s roar imposes −1 to the first such check.
• Ghouls: Fresh blood on the west bank invites 1 Ruby Ghoul from the Mortuary corridor in 1–2 rounds; it does not cross the stream unless lured onto the slab.

Lost Orcs in the depths

Ghazk (hoarse, spear leveled): “Halt there, ghost-walkers! One step more and the river takes thy guts. Speak soft—or bleed loud.”

The smaller orc (ankle bound with rag) squints at you, sniffing the air like a wary dog.

Vrunk (low, quick): “Not red-doctors. Not the skull-law dead. You—warm-bloods. Hungry?”

The spear point wavers. You lift your hand a little; torchlight paints the rushing water in quicksilver stripes.

Ghazk (barks, then falters): “Throw down steel! Nay—keep it sheathed, soft-walkers. Keep hands where I may count ’em.”

Vrunk (aside, to Ghazk, in a hurried rasp but loud enough to hear): “We run if they shout. We stab if they grin. If they have water, we beg.”

Your boot scuffs a pebble. The metronomic drip of the cave ticks on. You feel their fear like a drawn bow.

Ghazk (to you, louder): “Say thy errand. If thou seek’st the chief—he’s bones or howl by now. If thou seek’st the red temple—then stand not by the river-mouth, lest it swallow thee like Beltar’s maw.”

You angle your lantern downward; the smaller orc flinches from the light, then steadies.

Vrunk (voice trembling): “We saw ’em. Ruby ghouls, with grip like iron. Dragged our kin from the pit above—the wheel-stair west—their heels drawing fire on the stone. We hid. We are not ashamed. We hid.”

Ghazk swallows, chin lifting with a shred of pride.

Ghazk: “Say, strangers—art thou hunters of stink-lizards? Eastward crawls a tribe of slime-skin trogs. They nip at us in the dark, clever as knives. We give thee this warning for a drink of water… for a bite of thy above-sun bread.”

If you lower weapons and offer food or water

You ease your blade down; a waterskin arcs across the slab bridge. The spearpoint dips. Both orcs glance at each other, astonished by their own luck.

Vrunk (gulping, near tears): “Mercy! Thou art no red-doctors. Hear us then: the slab near the northeast—slick as eel. Cross slow. The trogs lurk beyond the south-east bend; they love the water’s roar. If thou must fight, fight not in the stream.”

Ghazk (more steady): “Storage-room lies half under stone, steps carved from the old law-place. Dig gentle—no thunder—else rocks fall like clubs. We will not cross to hinder thee. Give us leave to creep west when the dead are busy.”

If you question them about the Mortuary & pit

You ask about the dragging trails and the “red-doctors.” The big orc’s jaw tightens; the small one nods in quick, feverish jerks.

Ghazk: “Mortuary west. Smell of incense and iron. The red ones move by a law-beat—tap-tap, like a judge’s knuckle. Break the beat and they hunt.”

Vrunk: “The pit above drops here. Mind thy step—there’s a ring-walk ten feet down. Miss it, and the sump takes thy breath.”

If you threaten or advance with steel bared

You put weight into your stance; steel whispers from leather. The stream hisses louder—as if taking sides.

Ghazk (snarling, desperate): “So be it! One of us feeds the river; the other feeds the ghouls. Come, then!”

Vrunk (backpedaling toward the slab): “No horns! No horns, Ghazk—run!”

They split: one jabs to cover the other’s dash for the slab bridge. Their fear makes them reckless; every blow is a plea not to die unseen.

If you speak a few words in Orcish (even poorly)

You try their tongue. The sound is rough in your mouth; the effect is not.

Vrunk (blinking, softer): “Thou… tried. Good enough.”

Ghazk (breath shaking): “We sell no chiefs, we swear no new oaths. We only wish to live till dawn—if dawn still lives down here.”

If you mention the troglodytes directly

You name the stink-lizards; the orcs tense as if pinched.

Vrunk: “They like the far bank. Three toes, dragging tail. They love a scream in water.”

Ghazk: “If thou go east, go many. If thou must cross, cross dry, and carry fire.”

If you promise safe passage west

You raise an open palm and promise them leave to limp away when the way is clear. The spear lowers at last.

Ghazk (hoarse): “We are smoke, then. May thy gods weigh fair.”

Vrunk (small bow, clutching the fish-basket): “Give the river no blood if thou canst help it.”

They wait for your nod, then ghost along the stones, every footfall a prayer to be forgotten by the dead and the river alike.