Upgrade your account to a Community Supporter account and remove most of the site ads.

Reply to thread

Message: <blockquote data-quote="Softwind" data-source="post: 1362925" data-attributes="member: 13893">“Great.” Brynn rubs his forehead. “We come out here looking for answers, an’ someone hands us more questions.”  “It does seem as there is another Power at work here. Who were those two, in the vision I presume we all shared?” The mage picks himself up and tries to rub off the mud clinging to his robes. The mud just smears across his garb, and he gives up in disgust. “Where is a basin with warm water, and fire-heated towels when you need them?” he inwardly bemoans. “One be who we know as ‘The Master’. He’s the one what took our kin. As for the other, well,” _shrug_ “He’s ‘The Other’. Whoever he be, he’s a helpful sort.” Brynn cleans his blades of the sap and ichor that covers them, and stands up. His gaze takes in the sunlight beating its way past the trees to the forest floor below. “We’ve got more day ahead o’ us. Let’s use it to track down this hermit druid what lives here somewhere.” Groaning and grumbling meets this announcement, but the party is soon ready to move again. At Brynn’s suggestion, they head towards the lake said to be nearby. Qonos volunteers to return to the village of Sumpter, to inform them of the progress made thus far, and perhaps to learn more of what the party faces.  The rest of the Companions continue their march after they watch the bladesinger disappear into the woods, heading towards the town. Their steps are heavy, as they slough through the morass of mud and decaying vegetation, but soon they see the trees opening up onto the waters of the lake. As they draw nearer, they are assailed by the overwhelming smells of rot, decay, and putrescence, stronger as they step out from the cover of the forest.  The sand of the lake shore is covered with the corpses of countless fish, and rotting plants - the waters are dark with algae and sediment. Walking forward cautiously, the sharp eyed among the party notice something shiny near the surface of the water, just a few feet from the shore.  “Do you think it’s safe?” someone asks. “Not sure. Odd that the rest is so murky, but whatever it is shows through.” Tombit wraps a rope around his waist, silently hands an end to Brynn, and wades into the lake, towards the items. He abruptly disappears as the shore immediately drops away from the surface, and he sinks quickly. Brynn tenses, but as the rope remains slack, he relaxes. Looking back at the rest of the group, he shrugs, a sort of helpless disgruntled look on his face. “Fool Halfling,” he mutters. As he sinks towards the lake bottom, Tombit realizes that the shiny objects must be closer to the surface. He moves to kick his way upward; only to get entangled in what appears to be kelp. Kelp that moves contrary to the water, on its own accord, entwining around the Halfling’s limbs. Tombit struggles against the weeds, kicking and tearing at the grasping plant. “Oops.”  “Holding my breath is the easy part. I wonder which will give up the hold first though – my breath, or these weeds?” Stopping his struggles a moment to ponder this, he realizes that what holds him is not kelp, but the tentacles of some large creature. “Oh, bother.” His struggles begin in earnest. “That’s it, I’m swearing off seafood.” On the shore, the waters beginning to roil, the shiny objects Tombit was so intent on disappearing in the resultant whirl of sediment. Brynn feels the rope go taut as Tombit yanks on it from under the water. “You two, get over here! He wants up, but it feels like somethin’ got ‘im.” Athena and Skylar hurry over to the rope, to help pull the soggy monk up. Daladariel, sensing something else is the matter, focuses on his staff, and releases the Haste spell from within it. The magic cascades over the gathered group, including the submerged Halfling.  “I’m casting Lower Water!” Genoa shouts, pointing in the vicinity of the tendrils that suddenly emerge from the surface of the water, and as the waters recedes, gasps at the creature revealed. Fully thirty feet across, the thing appears to be a mass of writhing tentacles, with a relieved but still entangled monk in the midst of it. Daladariel steps up, chuckling in glee, as he launches a fireball to the “backside” of the exposed monster. “I *love* that spell!” The resulting blast and wave of heat relaxes the beast’s grasp on Tombit, as he falls twenty feet to the muck below. The monk tries to look dignified as he wipes away the grime covering him; “I meant to do that,” he asserts to no one in particular. Karazak, seeing his kitty-chew-toy, er, friend Tombit assaulted, leaps at the tentacles in front of him, biting and raking them severely. Daladariel casts Fireball again, but the pea-sized globe encounters a hidden barrier halfway to its destination, and detonates above the party, causing damage to the mage and archer. Skylar’s arrows also deflect off the wall, harmlessly shattering some distance from the creature.  The tentacles have no problem moving around the wall of force, as they reach out and grab Genoa, crushing the wind from her. The animal companions go into a fury, attacking any tendril they can reach, as Brynn works his way past the wall. He avoids the grasping tentacles, and makes his way into the lakebed to attack the main body of the creature. He is joined by Tombit as the two of them strike at the belly of the beast. The ranger is flung back several times by lashing tendrils, trying to deter his attacks, but he picks himself up from the mire and strides back into battle each time. Tombit artfully dodges any blows directed his way, and continues the assault. Between the damage dealt to the many tentacles by the party, and the repeated blows to its body, the creature eventually succumbs and slumps into death. Panting heavily, the party’s sense of smell impinges on their awareness, the rotting bog smell upstaged by blood, burnt flesh and hair, and the creature’s stench itself. Like a beached fish too long in a hot sun. By effort of will, and much gulping back of bile, the Companions retain their last meal, and take a literal step back, taking in the scene.  Athena shakes herself off, and notices several party members bear wounds and burns. She bustles between Daladariel, Brynn and Tombit, closing wounds they only barely remember receiving in the heat of battle, tsk’ing the whole time. “You all right then, Tombit? Good. Daladariel, let me take a look at that. Tsk. That’s a nasty burn. Here, this will help. Ahh. Better? Good!” The party members smile at each other as she makes her rounds. “How long will the water stay away, Genoa?” asks Brynn, nervously eyeing the liquid wall towering above him, as Athena finishes healing his cuts and bruises. He rotates his shoulder, feeling the stiffness and pain subside beneath the warmth of Athena’s hands.  “Lessee. At least another couple of minutes, I would guess,” comes the reply. “You *guess*?!?” “Uh huh. We’d better hurry, just in case.” Brynn and Genoa turn to find Tombit already busy collecting the items spotted before. A finely crafted hammer, of obvious dwarven make, is handed to Brynn, while the masterwork battleaxe and flail are handed to Athena, who carries a Handy Haversack. These are followed by several grime covered gems and gold coins – the early remains of the beast’s previous victims. Other items, more perishable and thus mostly ruined, are left behind. Athena casts prestidigitation to clear the worst of the mud off the party, although the odor lingers in all they wear. Brynn points towards the woods, when all the party is around him. “Let’s move away from the lake and into the trees again. They might provide some relief from this heat.” Finding a suitable spot under cover of trees, far from the stench of the lake, the group of weary adventurers settles in for a midday nap. Brynn casts about them an Alarm spell, to rouse the party should anything come nearby. Daladariel quickly falls asleep, to reclaim spent spells; his tired body and mind taking no note of his rough bedding amidst decaying leaves. Skylar, having expended no spells, stays awake to watch over the party. Later, Genoa, her devotions done, awakens to takes the second watch, granting Skylar time for reverie. It is upon the druid’s watch that the Alarm spell is audibly triggered.  Mobile plant creatures surround the party, seeming to emerge from the trees themselves. As before, they seem focused on the elves in the party. Three of the needlemen fall in fast succession to Athena, Tombit and Genoa, before they even draw close. Additional, larger ones take the place of those fallen.  With a snarl, a hot and frustrated cougar rushes one as it draws near, with Tombit following on his heels. Between the two felinoids, the fourth Needleman is severely mauled but still mobile. It retaliates against its attackers, flinging needles at Karazak. The big cat feels a tremor in his muscles as the poison courses through his body, and yowls his displeasure.  “Stay close, my friends.” Daladariel releases a Haste spell, and encompasses the party in the magic. Brynn’s obvious pleasure in the spell brings a smile to the mage’s face. “Oh, yeah, I’m a Haste junkie! Come on!” he shouts to the hostile foliage. Disturbed by his large cat-friend’s reaction to the needles, Tombit is distracted and unable to land a hit against the Needleman. Neither does Karazak, as he stumbles about in his weakened condition. Genoa rushes to their side and attacks the plant creature with her scimitar, anger goading her on. Her animal companion, Timber, shies from combat, and refuses to draw close. Even with obvious wounds leaking abundant amounts of a sap like substance, the Needleman remains standing. Brynn, his attention focused on more of the creatures arriving, does not see Karazak get injured, and moves away from the camp, looking for more of the creatures. Skylar spies one and fires repeatedly, but the brush obscures the shot. Genoa kills the target she shares with Tombit and Karazak, and looks around for more opponents. Skylar’s next shots are more accurate, as she lands three staggering attacks on a Needleman emerging right next to Brynn. Feeling the shafts pass next to his head, he turns to shout at her before noticing the dead creature nearby. “Er, nice shot!” he shouts to her. Turning back, he spies movement and rushes to engage, only to be hit multiple times by a hidden assailant, his blood flowing freely from multiple wounds. His dwarven constitution makes short work of the poison, but the wounds themselves weaken him anyway. A surprised “Oof,” is his only comment. “Oh no you don’t! HiiiiYAH!” Tombit’s small but skilled hands whip out and land a killing shot as his opponent turns to flee. “Meow!” he says in satisfaction. Daladariel nervously scans the surrounding woods, but sees nothing he can safely target other than his friends. He declines to take the shot.  Genoa moves up to Tombit as yet another creature emerges from the trees. “Where are all these coming from?” Tombit, busily watching the surrounding foliage, looks at her and shrugs, and looks back as he hears another crashing through the plants before him. He dodges away from Genoa’s wild scimitar swing towards the creature, and back into the fray, barely acknowledging her embarrassed, “Sorry”. He’s beaten to the punch as Daladariel sends several Magic Missiles into his target, but gets his chance to strike as the plant creature tries to retreat.  Across the clearing, Brynn rains down several mighty blows upon his attacker, cutting open gashes that weep sap like blood. Several arrow shafts appear in its chest, sent by Skylar. Brynn glances over his shoulder to see the elf archer raising her bow in triumph overhead. “&%*^ elf, taking my kills.” He grumbles, not really upset, as he looks for another target. “Two can play that game, *mumble, grumble*.” He sheathes his swords and draws his bow, keen eyes trying to pierce the foliage around him. Tombit leaps at the fleeing Needleman, and tackles it to the ground, narrowly avoiding the poison needles that cover its body. Karazak takes the opportunity to retreat and lick his wounds, whimpering from the venom still in his body. “Hold still, you walking lumber stack,” Tombit cries, struggling with the creature beneath him. Abruptly, those struggles intensify as Daladariel fires empowered Magic Missiles into it, and Tombit is pierced multiple times by foot long needles. Genoa rushes to the Halfling’s aid. “Hold still. This.. won’t.. hurt.. a BIT!” the last shouted as her scimitar slips between the monk’s outstretched arms and pierces the Needleman. With a heave, the creature flings off the Halfling, and runs, narrowly avoiding the attacks of opportunity by the two. “Not taday, ye don’t.” The feathers and nocks of several arrows are all that are seen in the creatures back as it collapses to the ground, dead. “Awesome shot, Skylar!” Tombit yells. “A-HEM!” “Yes, Brynn? Oh. Um. Nice shots, Brynn. Huh? What was that? I couldn’t hear you with all that mumbling you’re doing.” The Halfling wanders over to the corpse, and pokes at the shafts. *poing, poing* Again, Athena is called upon to ply her healing art, as she uses her Caduceus stick to close wounds. Her supply of antidote is exhausted as she pours several vials down the throats of those afflicted by the Needleman poison. “Tsk. We’ll need to stock up on more of those, and soon.” Nearby, Skylar and her dwarven waraxe begin a discussion.  “I’m an ARCHER, you dumb hunk o’ metal. Why would I want to wade into combat? I’m perfectly happy with my bow!” “Listen, girlie. I didn’t get bequeathed to you tae decorate yer backside. I want ACTION. Use me, darn it!” *Sigh* “All right. If only because I still miss Grimnyr. Even if he was a stodgy dwarf and all…” The axe’s reply is somehow muffled as she slides the weapon into it’s sheathe on her back. She stands up, brushes off the twigs, and wanders over to Tombit, busily checking the bodies of the plant creatures. Her nose wrinkles up in evident disgust as the Halfling buries his arm up to his elbow in the body cavity of one. “What *are* you doing, furfoot?” “Yipe! Warn a body when you are sneakin’ up on em! I’m, ah, well, looting. These things are mostly hollow inside, and apparently don’t, er, pass hard objects.” He pulls his arm out, and opens his clenched hand, revealing several tarnished coins and a purple gem. “See?” He holds up his hand, dripping sap, for Skylar to better examine his find. She steps back, catching a whift of fresh Needleman innards, and murmurs a quick, “Urg, that’s okay. Um, good job on finding that stuff..” Under her breath, she finishes, “not that I want to know *how*.”</blockquote>

Verification