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<blockquote data-quote="the Jester" data-source="post: 4391591" data-attributes="member: 1210"><p><strong>Garbage Plot (pt 2)</strong></p><p></p><p>To our heroes’ amazement, the otyugh towering over them-</p><p></p><p><em>Speaks.</em></p><p></p><p>Yes, its words come out in a gurgle. Yes, they are accompanied by the foulness of otyugh halitosis. But it is undeniable: the trash monster <em>speaks.</em></p><p></p><p>“What did it say?” exclaims Barouk in disbelief.</p><p></p><p>Simultaneously, Severin’s jaw drops, and he cries, “Did it just <em>speak??</em>”</p><p></p><p>“Yes,” the creature rumbles. “Me speak. You help. Take junk. Give junk.”</p><p></p><p>Our heroes, whose hands had been readying spells and weapons, hesitate- and, who would have ever thought it, parlay with an otyugh.</p><p></p><p>***</p><p></p><p>The otyugh is a foul-smelling, garbage-dwelling eater of filth. It subsists on rotting food, sewage and refuse. Yet, somehow, it seems to differentiate between ‘good junk’ and ‘bad junk’. </p><p></p><p>It takes a while for our heroes to negotiate with the beast. It takes a while to figure out what it wants, and what it is offering. But soon, our heroes manage to piece together this much, at least: the otyugh considers the city dump to be its home (and really, having a few otyughs around probably keeps the dump from growing too quickly). It likes junk- at least, good junk. But lately, some ‘bad junk’ has come to infest its landfill. And so, to get it out, the otyugh is offering the party some ‘good junk’ to do the dirty work.</p><p></p><p>Shake shake. It shakes the chest it is holding and thrusts it forward, making it apparent that the ‘good junk’ it is offering is... treasure! </p><p></p><p>Negotiations with an otyugh... who would ever be prepared for such a thing? What could one offer an otyugh? Poop?</p><p></p><p>Or... to help it with a problem.</p><p></p><p>The otyugh consents to let them look in the box. It contains a pair of boots and a pair of potion bottles. All are smeared in waste, making them unappealing. On the other hand, the boots look fancy, and Kifla’s <em>detect magic</em> confirms that the potions and boots are all magical. The otyugh doesn’t appear to understand the question when they ask what the items are; it maintains that they are ‘good junk.’ Right. They certainly are. </p><p></p><p>The bargain struck, our heroes move along, their strange ally clumping along behind them. The otyugh (whose name is Spoot) promises to turn the box over once the ‘bad junk’ has been driven away.</p><p></p><p>“I think we know what the bad junk is,” Barouk mutters. “We’ve already fought one of them.”</p><p></p><p>The group advances into the dump. They make no real effort to hide themselves. They are well aware that the strange living junk creatures that they are facing are perfectly camouflaged here. Uneasily, Severin scans the refuse for movement. Barouk, too, is trying to watch everywhere at once. Spoot’s eye-bearing tentacle swivels this way and that, alertly watching for any signs of trouble.</p><p></p><p>Kifla, as usual, is completely oblivious.</p><p></p><p>“There!” cries Barouk. </p><p></p><p>Atop a nearby mound of refuse, two giant flies the size of large dogs, wrapped in garbage, buzz into the air and prepare to move towards the party. Two more whirlwinds of garbage rise up, as well.</p><p></p><p>Spoot charges. Its potato-shaped body trundles forward with relative quickness, and it slaps a tentacle out at one of the flies. <em>Whack!</em> Then it wraps the tentacle around the fly and begins to constrict it, squeezing it hard! Then the otyugh releases its grasp on the fly and smacks it again! The monster is badly wounded; Barouk adds a crossbow bolt to the mix.</p><p></p><p>Suddenly the garbage sheathing it falls off, and its behavior changes immediately. Its aggression vanishes, and it immediately flies away. Our heroes let it go. </p><p></p><p>Kifla begins summoning immediately, while Barouk begins moving in. Meanwhile, Severin fires his longbow at the fly that isn’t grappled. He hits it with his first shot, but misses with the second. </p><p></p><p>Spoot turns its attention to the other fly. In an instant, it has the vermin grappled and is squeezing it with all its otyughish might.</p><p></p><p>Meanwhile, Kifla’s summoning brings forth two celestial dogs. They rush in at the fly, and one of them wounds it further, but the two whirling ragamuffins zoom in and attack. One of them wraps itself around one of Kifla’s dogs, but it shakes and bites and growls, and finally manages to throw the ragamuffin off of it! Unfortunately, the effort, combined with the wounds that the strange garbage monster has inflicted, is too much. The dog is overcome, collapsing. </p><p></p><p>The second ragamuffin whirls in and attacks the otyugh! Spoot roars in distress as the tattered refuse wraps itself around him. It struggles valiantly, trying to pull the stuff off of itself, but it cannot tear it off fast enough. The ragamuffin’s substance starts to shroud Spoot, and it gives a bellow of confusion and fear.</p><p></p><p>Barouk throws himself in, tearing at the ragamuffin trying to take control of his otyugh ally (<em>damn peculiar, using those words together,</em> he thinks).</p><p></p><p>The ragamuffin endures the blow, which is mighty, and continues to try to dominate Spoot. The otyugh bellows again, struggling to resist. Meanwhile, Kifla’s remaining dog knocks the remaining fly out, and the garbage wrapping it immediately unwraps and begins to move towards the dog. </p><p></p><p>Severin’s bow drops to the ground as he draws forth <em>Frogspaw,</em> the anarchic blade that the party retrieved from the Mouth of Bleak. Grinning fiercely with the blade’s thirst for battle, Severin charges up to the top of the mound and swings at the garbage wrapped around Spoot, dealing a telling blow to it- a blow that also deals telling damage to Spoot. “Sorry!” the ranger cries, aghast. “I was trying to knock it off of you!”</p><p></p><p>“Glurgh,” responds Spoot. Or maybe it isn’t a response. </p><p></p><p>Then Severin’s eyes widen. “On the other side!” he shouts, “it’s the kids we’re looking for!”</p><p></p><p>“Uh-oh,” Kifla moans, as Spoot turns on Severin and begins trying to slay him. “Barouk, let me reach you!” The dwarf, about to move away, instead springs closer to his gnomish friend. She rushes over towards him. “Here!” she cries, and casts <em>magic weapon</em> on his fist. “That should help!”</p><p></p><p>“Especially when combined with <em>this!</em>” Barouk invokes his <em>fiery fist,</em> and his fists burst into flame! He strikes the garbage that got rejected by the celestial dog, and it attempts to wrap itself around the remaining active dog. Barking furiously, it drives the ragamuffin off of it!</p><p></p><p>Severin, meanwhile, finds himself fighting for his life against his otyugh ally wrapped in trash. <em>And if that isn’t a strange combination of circumstances, I don’t know what is,</em> he thinks wryly. He parries, dodges a tentacle blow and then aims a counterblow, attempting to slice at the garbage. </p><p></p><p>For his trouble, he is slapped upside the head by the otyugh’s other tentacle. The blow knocks him senseless, and he drops to the ground like a sack of corn. </p><p></p><p>Meanwhile, Kifla manages to destroy the ragamuffin that disengaged from the slain fly with a <em>steam jet.</em> Then she turns to aid the struggle against Spoot. She tries a <em>color spray</em>- but to no avail.</p><p></p><p>The air is seemingly whirling with garbage. Suddenly Kifla realizes that the one that Barouk is engaging is not like the others. Where they are mostly bits of cloth, paper and such, the one that he is fighting is composed largely of fragments of metal and shards of glass. “Be careful, Barouk!” she cries. </p><p></p><p>Barouk is, at least for now, holding his own- but only just. Especially with his <em>flaming fists,</em> he manages to land several telling blows against it. It’s tough, though, and it looks like a very painful thing to be hit by.</p><p></p><p>Spoot roars and begins moving towards the enclosure holding the kids. </p><p></p><p>Barouk continues his dance with the whirlwind of metal, glass and debris. He keeps ducking and dodging, fighting defensively, and he keeps slipping very lucky blows in against the... creature... over and over again, while it can’t seem to harm him. But even as he pounds it with another flaming flurry of blows, he can see Spoot getting closer to the children.</p><p></p><p>“Barouk, stop Spoot!” cries Kifla. She hurls an <em>acid splash</em> at the guttersnipe that the dwarf is combating, and it collapses in a heap of twisted metal and broken glass. Barouk springs immediately towards the otyugh and the enclosure.</p><p></p><p>Too slow.</p><p></p><p>Spoot reaches into the enclosure with a tentacle and wraps it around a young boy who looks to be about 12 years old. The lad screams, and by some miracle, manages to twist free of the otyugh’s grasp.</p><p></p><p>Barouk barrels into Spoot, kicking him- but not stopping him. </p><p></p><p>Spoot reaches for the kid again, but Barouk unleashes a flurry of blows- albeit a non-flaming one- and knocks the otyugh down! It groans and does not rise.</p><p></p><p>The garbage makes an audible <em>whip-whip-whip</em> as it unwraps itself from around the otyugh. </p><p></p><p>“Stop it!” cries Kifla. </p><p></p><p>The ragamuffin is attempting to fly away, moving up into the sky. Barouk takes a swing as it ascends, but misses; Kifla fires her crossbow, but she also misses. </p><p></p><p>Quickly our heroes check on Severin (stable) and the kids (okay, but meant to be fodder for the ragamuffins to control). The enclosure is easily broken by weapon-wielding adults, and our heroes escort the kids back first to the fey, whom they inform of the success of their mission.</p><p></p><p>As agreed, the fey let the children that they had ‘rescued’ go as well. </p><p></p><p>Charges in tow, the party continues back towards the Dawn Way, where they meet up with Amara, who gratefully takes charge of the children. </p><p></p><p>And then our heroes continue on their way down the road to Drellin’s Ferry. “We should be there in another couple days,” remarks Barouk.</p><p></p><p>Little do they know that war awaits them- for the Red Hand of Doom is about to strike.</p><p></p><p><em><strong>Next Time:</strong></em> The Red Hand of Doom begins!</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="the Jester, post: 4391591, member: 1210"] [b]Garbage Plot (pt 2)[/b] To our heroes’ amazement, the otyugh towering over them- [i]Speaks.[/i] Yes, its words come out in a gurgle. Yes, they are accompanied by the foulness of otyugh halitosis. But it is undeniable: the trash monster [i]speaks.[/i] “What did it say?” exclaims Barouk in disbelief. Simultaneously, Severin’s jaw drops, and he cries, “Did it just [i]speak??[/i]” “Yes,” the creature rumbles. “Me speak. You help. Take junk. Give junk.” Our heroes, whose hands had been readying spells and weapons, hesitate- and, who would have ever thought it, parlay with an otyugh. *** The otyugh is a foul-smelling, garbage-dwelling eater of filth. It subsists on rotting food, sewage and refuse. Yet, somehow, it seems to differentiate between ‘good junk’ and ‘bad junk’. It takes a while for our heroes to negotiate with the beast. It takes a while to figure out what it wants, and what it is offering. But soon, our heroes manage to piece together this much, at least: the otyugh considers the city dump to be its home (and really, having a few otyughs around probably keeps the dump from growing too quickly). It likes junk- at least, good junk. But lately, some ‘bad junk’ has come to infest its landfill. And so, to get it out, the otyugh is offering the party some ‘good junk’ to do the dirty work. Shake shake. It shakes the chest it is holding and thrusts it forward, making it apparent that the ‘good junk’ it is offering is... treasure! Negotiations with an otyugh... who would ever be prepared for such a thing? What could one offer an otyugh? Poop? Or... to help it with a problem. The otyugh consents to let them look in the box. It contains a pair of boots and a pair of potion bottles. All are smeared in waste, making them unappealing. On the other hand, the boots look fancy, and Kifla’s [i]detect magic[/i] confirms that the potions and boots are all magical. The otyugh doesn’t appear to understand the question when they ask what the items are; it maintains that they are ‘good junk.’ Right. They certainly are. The bargain struck, our heroes move along, their strange ally clumping along behind them. The otyugh (whose name is Spoot) promises to turn the box over once the ‘bad junk’ has been driven away. “I think we know what the bad junk is,” Barouk mutters. “We’ve already fought one of them.” The group advances into the dump. They make no real effort to hide themselves. They are well aware that the strange living junk creatures that they are facing are perfectly camouflaged here. Uneasily, Severin scans the refuse for movement. Barouk, too, is trying to watch everywhere at once. Spoot’s eye-bearing tentacle swivels this way and that, alertly watching for any signs of trouble. Kifla, as usual, is completely oblivious. “There!” cries Barouk. Atop a nearby mound of refuse, two giant flies the size of large dogs, wrapped in garbage, buzz into the air and prepare to move towards the party. Two more whirlwinds of garbage rise up, as well. Spoot charges. Its potato-shaped body trundles forward with relative quickness, and it slaps a tentacle out at one of the flies. [i]Whack![/i] Then it wraps the tentacle around the fly and begins to constrict it, squeezing it hard! Then the otyugh releases its grasp on the fly and smacks it again! The monster is badly wounded; Barouk adds a crossbow bolt to the mix. Suddenly the garbage sheathing it falls off, and its behavior changes immediately. Its aggression vanishes, and it immediately flies away. Our heroes let it go. Kifla begins summoning immediately, while Barouk begins moving in. Meanwhile, Severin fires his longbow at the fly that isn’t grappled. He hits it with his first shot, but misses with the second. Spoot turns its attention to the other fly. In an instant, it has the vermin grappled and is squeezing it with all its otyughish might. Meanwhile, Kifla’s summoning brings forth two celestial dogs. They rush in at the fly, and one of them wounds it further, but the two whirling ragamuffins zoom in and attack. One of them wraps itself around one of Kifla’s dogs, but it shakes and bites and growls, and finally manages to throw the ragamuffin off of it! Unfortunately, the effort, combined with the wounds that the strange garbage monster has inflicted, is too much. The dog is overcome, collapsing. The second ragamuffin whirls in and attacks the otyugh! Spoot roars in distress as the tattered refuse wraps itself around him. It struggles valiantly, trying to pull the stuff off of itself, but it cannot tear it off fast enough. The ragamuffin’s substance starts to shroud Spoot, and it gives a bellow of confusion and fear. Barouk throws himself in, tearing at the ragamuffin trying to take control of his otyugh ally ([i]damn peculiar, using those words together,[/i] he thinks). The ragamuffin endures the blow, which is mighty, and continues to try to dominate Spoot. The otyugh bellows again, struggling to resist. Meanwhile, Kifla’s remaining dog knocks the remaining fly out, and the garbage wrapping it immediately unwraps and begins to move towards the dog. Severin’s bow drops to the ground as he draws forth [i]Frogspaw,[/i] the anarchic blade that the party retrieved from the Mouth of Bleak. Grinning fiercely with the blade’s thirst for battle, Severin charges up to the top of the mound and swings at the garbage wrapped around Spoot, dealing a telling blow to it- a blow that also deals telling damage to Spoot. “Sorry!” the ranger cries, aghast. “I was trying to knock it off of you!” “Glurgh,” responds Spoot. Or maybe it isn’t a response. Then Severin’s eyes widen. “On the other side!” he shouts, “it’s the kids we’re looking for!” “Uh-oh,” Kifla moans, as Spoot turns on Severin and begins trying to slay him. “Barouk, let me reach you!” The dwarf, about to move away, instead springs closer to his gnomish friend. She rushes over towards him. “Here!” she cries, and casts [i]magic weapon[/i] on his fist. “That should help!” “Especially when combined with [i]this![/i]” Barouk invokes his [i]fiery fist,[/i] and his fists burst into flame! He strikes the garbage that got rejected by the celestial dog, and it attempts to wrap itself around the remaining active dog. Barking furiously, it drives the ragamuffin off of it! Severin, meanwhile, finds himself fighting for his life against his otyugh ally wrapped in trash. [i]And if that isn’t a strange combination of circumstances, I don’t know what is,[/i] he thinks wryly. He parries, dodges a tentacle blow and then aims a counterblow, attempting to slice at the garbage. For his trouble, he is slapped upside the head by the otyugh’s other tentacle. The blow knocks him senseless, and he drops to the ground like a sack of corn. Meanwhile, Kifla manages to destroy the ragamuffin that disengaged from the slain fly with a [i]steam jet.[/i] Then she turns to aid the struggle against Spoot. She tries a [i]color spray[/i]- but to no avail. The air is seemingly whirling with garbage. Suddenly Kifla realizes that the one that Barouk is engaging is not like the others. Where they are mostly bits of cloth, paper and such, the one that he is fighting is composed largely of fragments of metal and shards of glass. “Be careful, Barouk!” she cries. Barouk is, at least for now, holding his own- but only just. Especially with his [i]flaming fists,[/i] he manages to land several telling blows against it. It’s tough, though, and it looks like a very painful thing to be hit by. Spoot roars and begins moving towards the enclosure holding the kids. Barouk continues his dance with the whirlwind of metal, glass and debris. He keeps ducking and dodging, fighting defensively, and he keeps slipping very lucky blows in against the... creature... over and over again, while it can’t seem to harm him. But even as he pounds it with another flaming flurry of blows, he can see Spoot getting closer to the children. “Barouk, stop Spoot!” cries Kifla. She hurls an [i]acid splash[/i] at the guttersnipe that the dwarf is combating, and it collapses in a heap of twisted metal and broken glass. Barouk springs immediately towards the otyugh and the enclosure. Too slow. Spoot reaches into the enclosure with a tentacle and wraps it around a young boy who looks to be about 12 years old. The lad screams, and by some miracle, manages to twist free of the otyugh’s grasp. Barouk barrels into Spoot, kicking him- but not stopping him. Spoot reaches for the kid again, but Barouk unleashes a flurry of blows- albeit a non-flaming one- and knocks the otyugh down! It groans and does not rise. The garbage makes an audible [i]whip-whip-whip[/i] as it unwraps itself from around the otyugh. “Stop it!” cries Kifla. The ragamuffin is attempting to fly away, moving up into the sky. Barouk takes a swing as it ascends, but misses; Kifla fires her crossbow, but she also misses. Quickly our heroes check on Severin (stable) and the kids (okay, but meant to be fodder for the ragamuffins to control). The enclosure is easily broken by weapon-wielding adults, and our heroes escort the kids back first to the fey, whom they inform of the success of their mission. As agreed, the fey let the children that they had ‘rescued’ go as well. Charges in tow, the party continues back towards the Dawn Way, where they meet up with Amara, who gratefully takes charge of the children. And then our heroes continue on their way down the road to Drellin’s Ferry. “We should be there in another couple days,” remarks Barouk. Little do they know that war awaits them- for the Red Hand of Doom is about to strike. [i][b]Next Time:[/b][/i][b][/b] The Red Hand of Doom begins! [/QUOTE]
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