With his barbaric companions being, for the moment, kept at bay by the vision, Ulor was able to examine the remaining tank at leisure. Without heeding the dwarf's remonstrances, he turned to face it. The large vat itself did not seem very remarkable - thick, dirthy glass, warm to the touch and tinged green. Its occupant, while increasingly restless, did not seem to be in any way deleteriously affected by its contents. Either they were harmless, or they had not had enough time to act; but, considering that it was almost full, the latter would seem unlikely. The liquid's effects, then, if it had any in itself, were probably something subtle.

He sniffed the air, and a pungent, briny smell assailed his nostrils. It was strong and unpleasant, yet, for some reason, it did not strike him as abnormal. Strange. Ulor bent down to dip his finger into the large puddle that had formed from the carelessly shattered tank. It no longer appeared green. He tasted it, and it seemed no different from salt water. Perhaps it [i]was[/i] salt water. Indeed, there seemed to be no reason for it not to be salt water. In that case, the effect of the tanks lay in something else altogether, which was apparently not here at all.

A wave of the fingers, and the flames died down, fading as though they had never been there (which, effectively, they had not). Motioning to the octopus to follow him, Ulor stepped aside, still squinting and grumbling irritatedly at the rest of the party. "See that you are more careful next time. We will not always have the luxury of two exemplars being about."


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Ulor rolls a [url=https://www.roleplayerguild.com/rolls/4307]15[/url] while Investigating the tanks and their contents through various senses, and dismisses the illusion.
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