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Company of the Random Encounter ('complete' 14 Nov 2004)
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<blockquote data-quote="Capellan" data-source="post: 1214463" data-attributes="member: 6294"><p><strong>"Bounty Hunters" by Jim Gillispie's Module Workshop - Part 6</strong></p><p></p><p>Suddenly, the adventurers realise that some of the vines and creepers have curled around their ankles, entangling their legs and making it very difficult to move. Even as they start to try and pull free, more vines drop from the ceiling, grasping at the adventurers arms and throats.</p><p></p><p>"There!" Mantreus points to a thick clump of vegetation, "I think tha's the main trunk of this thing! All the vines seem to lead back that way!"</p><p></p><p>He raises his crossbow and readies to fire it, but as he does so, two of the vines wrap around his arm and wrench up toward the ceiling. There's a damp crunch as the joint in his shoulder dislocates.</p><p></p><p>The sorcerer goes white with shock, but can't even manage a gasp of pain before the vines wrench again, grinding the dislocated bones against each other. There is another, even more intense wave of agony, before blackness mercifully sweeps over him.</p><p></p><p>The vines lash out at the others, as well, but none suffer as badly as Mantreus. One particularly thick vine wraps around Stormstrider's chest, cracking several of his ribs as it squeezes tight, but the elf tears himself free with brute force, then sends his quarterstaff smashing into the trunk of the plant.</p><p></p><p>"There's a body in here!" he calls, crushing part of the skeletal remains as his next blow to the plant goes astray.</p><p></p><p>"Let's focus on not joining it!" the Padre calls back, using his dagger to slash at a vine that has wrapped itself dangerously close to his throat. Managing to sever his target with a well-placed blow, he snakes between several more grasping tendrils, moving up beside the druid.</p><p></p><p>The vines continue to grasp at the group, but there are simply too many adventurers for the plant to deal with all at once. Each time one of the Company is grasped, another member comes to their aid, and both Stormstrider and the Padre refuse to be distracted from the task of smashing the thick truck with the heaviest blows they can manage. Mace and quarterstaff are applied with vigour, and the men's crushing blows tear large rents in their target.</p><p></p><p>Soon, the attacks of the vines become weaker and less cohesive. Sap oozes from nearly a dozen wounds in the trunk, and four or five of the tendrils have been severed completely. Leaving Stormstrider to complete the job of destroying their enemy, the Padre moves over to the unconscious Mantreus. The sorcerer is still unconscious, and his skin is clammy and pale, but the cleric finds a faint pulse at his throat.</p><p></p><p>"St Cuthbert grant thee succour." The Padre invokes his god, channelling healing energy into the dying man. Slowly, Mantreus' colour improves.</p><p></p><p>"What's that noise?" the sorcerer asks, eyes still closed.</p><p></p><p>"Stormstrider's putting the finishing touches to your recent admirer." The Padre glances across the room, "There's bits of wood flying everywhere."</p><p></p><p>"That's alright, then." Mantreus opens his eyes, "I was having visions of some hideous afterlife. This dungeon is no fun."</p><p></p><p>"You do seem to be doing a lot of the near-death thing, today." The cleric agrees, nonchalantly. "And for the record: trying to use missile weapons in hand to hand combat is a bad idea."</p><p></p><p>"How was I supposed to know it could reach that far?" the sorcerer grumbles, sitting up. "Ow." He presses a hand to his side, "I don't think your healing quite finished the job, Padre."</p><p></p><p>The cleric nods and looks around at the others, noting the many small injuries they have all suffered. Removing his backpack, he digs inside, eventually withdrawing a slender wooden box.</p><p></p><p>"Time to try that wand we bought in Duvik's Pass." He remarks, withdrawing the item in question.</p><p></p><p>As the Padre moves around the room, applying healing to his companions with the aid of the wand, Elspeth digs through the detritus of the plant, until she able to prise free the skeletal remains of its previous victim.</p><p></p><p>"He's got some valuables still on him." She reports at last, dangling a pouch full of gold in the air, "But no diamond."</p><p></p><p>The adventurers continue their search, uncovering a water-damaged set of doors behind a curtain of hanging vegetation. Beyond the doors lie several more subterranean chambers, including a room which - from the small altar set against one wall - is obviously a chapel. Based on the perverse designs of some pewter ornaments they find, and a black-handled scythe that hangs on the wall, the Padre declares that whomever used the place must have been a devotee of the death cults.</p><p></p><p>"Only a foul wretch would have debased himself in such a place." Is his opinion, which he underlines with several hefty blows of his mace, seeking to destroy - or at least damage - the stone altar. He has little luck in this regard, however, and soon realises that it would take hours of painstaking work to inflict any serious harm.</p><p></p><p>Muttering under his breath, he satisfies himself with smashing the masterwork scythe, thereby depriving the group of the single most valuable item they've found in the complex.</p><p></p><p>Wisely, no-one compares this to the incident with the cat.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Capellan, post: 1214463, member: 6294"] [b]"Bounty Hunters" by Jim Gillispie's Module Workshop - Part 6[/b] Suddenly, the adventurers realise that some of the vines and creepers have curled around their ankles, entangling their legs and making it very difficult to move. Even as they start to try and pull free, more vines drop from the ceiling, grasping at the adventurers arms and throats. "There!" Mantreus points to a thick clump of vegetation, "I think tha's the main trunk of this thing! All the vines seem to lead back that way!" He raises his crossbow and readies to fire it, but as he does so, two of the vines wrap around his arm and wrench up toward the ceiling. There's a damp crunch as the joint in his shoulder dislocates. The sorcerer goes white with shock, but can't even manage a gasp of pain before the vines wrench again, grinding the dislocated bones against each other. There is another, even more intense wave of agony, before blackness mercifully sweeps over him. The vines lash out at the others, as well, but none suffer as badly as Mantreus. One particularly thick vine wraps around Stormstrider's chest, cracking several of his ribs as it squeezes tight, but the elf tears himself free with brute force, then sends his quarterstaff smashing into the trunk of the plant. "There's a body in here!" he calls, crushing part of the skeletal remains as his next blow to the plant goes astray. "Let's focus on not joining it!" the Padre calls back, using his dagger to slash at a vine that has wrapped itself dangerously close to his throat. Managing to sever his target with a well-placed blow, he snakes between several more grasping tendrils, moving up beside the druid. The vines continue to grasp at the group, but there are simply too many adventurers for the plant to deal with all at once. Each time one of the Company is grasped, another member comes to their aid, and both Stormstrider and the Padre refuse to be distracted from the task of smashing the thick truck with the heaviest blows they can manage. Mace and quarterstaff are applied with vigour, and the men's crushing blows tear large rents in their target. Soon, the attacks of the vines become weaker and less cohesive. Sap oozes from nearly a dozen wounds in the trunk, and four or five of the tendrils have been severed completely. Leaving Stormstrider to complete the job of destroying their enemy, the Padre moves over to the unconscious Mantreus. The sorcerer is still unconscious, and his skin is clammy and pale, but the cleric finds a faint pulse at his throat. "St Cuthbert grant thee succour." The Padre invokes his god, channelling healing energy into the dying man. Slowly, Mantreus' colour improves. "What's that noise?" the sorcerer asks, eyes still closed. "Stormstrider's putting the finishing touches to your recent admirer." The Padre glances across the room, "There's bits of wood flying everywhere." "That's alright, then." Mantreus opens his eyes, "I was having visions of some hideous afterlife. This dungeon is no fun." "You do seem to be doing a lot of the near-death thing, today." The cleric agrees, nonchalantly. "And for the record: trying to use missile weapons in hand to hand combat is a bad idea." "How was I supposed to know it could reach that far?" the sorcerer grumbles, sitting up. "Ow." He presses a hand to his side, "I don't think your healing quite finished the job, Padre." The cleric nods and looks around at the others, noting the many small injuries they have all suffered. Removing his backpack, he digs inside, eventually withdrawing a slender wooden box. "Time to try that wand we bought in Duvik's Pass." He remarks, withdrawing the item in question. As the Padre moves around the room, applying healing to his companions with the aid of the wand, Elspeth digs through the detritus of the plant, until she able to prise free the skeletal remains of its previous victim. "He's got some valuables still on him." She reports at last, dangling a pouch full of gold in the air, "But no diamond." The adventurers continue their search, uncovering a water-damaged set of doors behind a curtain of hanging vegetation. Beyond the doors lie several more subterranean chambers, including a room which - from the small altar set against one wall - is obviously a chapel. Based on the perverse designs of some pewter ornaments they find, and a black-handled scythe that hangs on the wall, the Padre declares that whomever used the place must have been a devotee of the death cults. "Only a foul wretch would have debased himself in such a place." Is his opinion, which he underlines with several hefty blows of his mace, seeking to destroy - or at least damage - the stone altar. He has little luck in this regard, however, and soon realises that it would take hours of painstaking work to inflict any serious harm. Muttering under his breath, he satisfies himself with smashing the masterwork scythe, thereby depriving the group of the single most valuable item they've found in the complex. Wisely, no-one compares this to the incident with the cat. [/QUOTE]
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