A few turns have passed in my Labyrinth Lord, Wilds game, and action has been a bit slow, with various real-life vacations slowing the pace a bit. here's a summary of action to date.
After the spider attack, the party regrouped in the morning. Durego had managed to shake off the effects of the poisonous bite, and between healing prayers and the powers of the Dwarf Kettle broth, he was back on his feet. The party headed out toward their destination, the Needle Spire. A day's travel saw them camped near the base of the Spire, and in the morning the cracked open the door with the key they'd recovered on their last trip.
Rather than expend additional time on puzzling out these combinations, the party decided to exit the Spire and spent the rest of the day exploring the area near the spire, a locale they hadn't really checked out. Their explorations did not uncover anything substantial, mostly grass and scrub. The party returned to camp to debate their next course of action.
The next morning, Rawon, guarded by Mordikarr, Durego, and Maro, made a trial of placing shapes in slots, and found that they snapped into place easily, but only one of each shape would 'stick' to the surface of the pedestal, and that not all combinations of sphere/cube/pyramid worked. After taking notes on what worked and what didn't, the party resealed the spire Spire and headed out to the ruined tower, both to replenish their water supply and check on their cached supplies. All proved to be well, and the next day the party headed back to the Spire with refilled water casks and a new approach: all in! Picking up the action there...
Now, with everyone back inside the spire, Locky carefully tries the key on the pedestal, in both configurations. "No good," he says, applying pressure to the unmoving key, "it won't turn."
"OK, start adding pieces," says Rawon, who has drawn his bow and stands nearby.
Locky adds objects, trying the key both ways each time. Green sphere. Red cube in S slot. Brown pyramid in SE slot. Click. "Uh oh!"
"The key turned, half a twist right. I felt it move, and then it just snapped around."
Everyone looks around, peering through the misty air inside the spire. It's Ohwatoo that first notices. "The door is closed!" he cries.
"The key is stuck too," mutters Locky. "Let's see, clockwise, or counterclockwise? Let's just keep going..." he gives the key another twist clockwise, then gives the key a tug. It pops free easily.
Ever the voice of caution, Durego says, "Try the door, let's be sure we're not trapped here, like rats in a maze."
There are general murmurs of agreement, so Locky trots over to the door, and tries the key. No good. He swaps ends and tries again. Click. The door vanishes in its usual disconcerting way. Durego looks outside, shield and mace ready. "Well, that's not good," he says.
Locky peeks out from the other side of the door. "Wow!"
The others gather at the door and then slowly move outside. The tall grass and distant woods you were expecting are gone. In their place are barren, rocky hills separated by dark, misty valleys. As Raúguey exits the spire there's a brittle crunch underfoot, and he looks down. "Bones!" he cries.
"Bones everywhere," says Maro, scanning the surrounding hilltop. "This fight has been over for a long time though. These dead have been here for years."
"It's quite warm," observes Ohwatoo, "warmer than when we left, or so it feels to me, but the sun appears to be right, and in the right position."
"Why would light in sky be different?" asks Mordikarr.
"Well, obviously, we are not where we were. I was merely noting that at least some things still appear to be correct, meaning we may not be that far from our starting point. The greater heat might indicate we are further south, but the sun is still high in the sky, so we are none too far east or west. The fact that the sun looks like our own 'light in the sky' means we are likely in the proper realm at least."
"What do you mean, proper realm?" asks Gorvil.
Ohwatoo sighs. "It's... complicated, but many scholars think our world is but one of many. The various elemental realms, the planes of the abyss, the astral and ethereal, these are known and proven. If these exist, why not others? Worlds similar to our own, or not." The mage shakes his head. "We should be very cautious when we next open the door. We may find ourselves on a world filled with poison gasses, or no air at all!"
"Try again?! Why in the world would we try again?" asks Raúguey, half yelling.
Durego shakes his head in quiet amusement. "How else are you planning to get home Raúguey? You going to walk?"
The big guy, never the sharpest tack in the box, scratches his head, then blushes a bit. "Oh."