CaseAce and Mardav Backstories

The party have just entered an old abandoned dungeon built by a long extinct race of sentient lizard like creatures. How did your characters come to be in the dungeon? How did they become trapped?

Case and I agree we fell through spit trap, we're working on what happened before that.

Got it.

Vrizz'ka burst out of the white sand beach, teal scales and gold eyes blazing in the sun. They look around and try to discern where they are. The light off the ocean is nearly blinding, their pupils contract to a single needle thick sliver. They look down at the iron manacles around their wrists. The sound of the surf and the scuttling crabs are the only things around.

Vrizz'ka pulls them-self out form the sand standing up to the full 5 foot. A single horn divides their face jutting from their snout. They then notice the form of a softskin coming up the beach tall and dark. Vrizz'ka's first instinct is to retreat into trees, but then decides that maybe this softskin can help with the manacles.

CRACK!

Rabe swung his quarterstaff with all his might, but it was no use--each bar was as rock-solid as the last. He rubbed his rear end, still sore from where the chute had dumped him unceremoniously on the stone floor of the cell.

Not him, he reminded himself, them.

He glanced over at his companion. The dragonborn's teal scales shone brightly, reflecting the light from the end of Rabe's staff, giving the creature a sort of harsh beauty, a stark contrast to an appearance that was overall rather... unimpressive. Rabe had always heard that Dragonborn were a race of imperious, stately individuals, but Friska--at least, that's what he seemed to be calling himself--looked more like a lizard on two legs. Not that Rabe minded, it was just--well, stereotypes, y'know?

Rabe reflected on the circumstances of their meeting. His head had been buzzing that day. The innkeeper had been kind enough, but she had been dropping hints of late that Rabe and his siblings had better get some coin or start looking for shelter elsewhere. Rabe and his sister Miara had looked for work, but the town was too damn small--just a trading post, and only a few years old at that. He had spent a day helping a shopkeep erect a new storefront, but all he had earned for his trouble was a few gold worth of credit for a shop that wasn't even up and running yet.

So when rumors of a long-abandoned dungeon started swirling, Rabe had to listen. It was about a half-day's hike into the woods, and though it used to serve as an underground stronghold for a tribe of lizardfolk, the place was now completely empty--or so it was said. Rabe had seen his fair share of would-be treasure hunters with more avarice than aptitude venture into the great unknown only to return a week later with their clothes torn to tatters and some stories, but he had also seen enough adventurers swagger into the tavern with gold spilling out of their pockets to know that there was plenty of hidden wealth waiting to be found by someone with courage, know-how, and a little luck.

Hell, even if all he found was a few silver pieces and an ancient magic wand barely holding on to its final charge, his family would be better off than they were now.

Even so, it was not an easy decision. Even if the dungeon held enough treasure to make it worth risking his life over, he had no idea how to begin such an expedition--or how we would convince Miara to let him spend two days chasing fables in the woods. So when he wandered down to the beach to mull things over--tossing stones in the water had always helped him think--and he found Friska just lying there... well, if that wasn't a sign, what was? Truth be told, he wasn't crazy that his new companion had arrived shackled, but the guy seemed genuinely appreciative to be freed, and the twins quickly took a shining to him when Rabe brought him home to explain the plan to Miara. Plus, even if all he did was serve as translator for the spear-toting lizardfolk that hadn't gotten the message that they were supposed to have cleared out years ago, he would earn his share of... well, whatever they found.

Which, as of right now, was a few hallways full of moldy stone and a pit trap that featured a one-way trip to an impenetrable jail cell with a complimentary bruised tailbone (or just tail, in Friska's case).

Vrizz'ka moves up to inspect the door. Carefully running claws over the hinges and the locking mechanism. Vriss'ka clicked deep in their throats in irritation, the smooothskin named Rale, Vrizz'ka had trouble with 'b', was right, the ancient door was definitely well stuck. Lightning might open it up, but then would leave Vriss'ka waiting a day to recover it. Better to go slow, like a monitor on the rocks.

Vrizz'ka pulls a few obsidian tool from those pack, preparing to try and remove the latching mechanism.

The door of your cell is made from stone not metal. Several stone bars descend from the ceiling to the floor locking you securely in place. Outside the door you can see what appears to be an ancient arena. You take a quick look around the bars but there's no obvious locking mechanism.

Rabe sighed. Well, if I never get out of here, at least I won't have to sit through a tongue-lashing from Miara... unless she marches out here just to yell at me down that hole. Which she might. Crap.

"There's got to be some way out of here, right? What's the point of a cell you can't open?"

You spend some time looking for a locking mechanism to no avail. Then inspiration strikes. You lie down on your back and poke your head out through the bars. Looking up and over the top of the stone door you can just make out some kind of rope rising up and onto what must be some kind of landing above your cell.

From your perspective it would be very difficult to open the door from this side of the cell. It looks like someone would have to get to the platform above your cell and you're certain that there must be some kind of lever or wheel there.

Echoing through the caven you hear the not so distant sounds of battle as if several humanoids and some kind of beasts were fighting some kind of battle. You hear battlecries mixed with some indeterminate words.
God's, is .... the best you ...? Pathetic, ... say."

What do you do?

You also hear the sounds of battle and can make out someone speaking in common. They're not too far away and they could probably hear you if you were to call out.