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The Ecology of the Grick (unpublished 3.0 version)
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<blockquote data-quote="Richards" data-source="post: 2191486" data-attributes="member: 508"><p>The Monster Hunters stood at the foothills of the mountains just north of the city. "Secret cavern," admonished the flumph. "No tell. You promise."</p><p></p><p>"We promise," agreed Buntleby. He brandished a slim dagger, as did Spontayne. Even Willowquisp sported a dagger, although his was a "loaner" from Buntleby, as Willowquisp's exploits tended more toward the academic and less toward the physical. Still, he wasn't about to miss out on seeing firsthand the interior of one of the flumphs' mysterious holy caverns. He had longed to see one from the first time he read about them in Cartificant the Learned's published papers on the subject. Plus, he figured, he had three other Monster Hunters to see to his safety.</p><p></p><p>"Right then," said Rhionda, brandishing her longsword. "Let's go. Where exactly is this entrance of yours?"</p><p></p><p>"Just ahead," squeaked the flumph, pointing with an outthrust tentacle at an overhanging rock. "Need rope." The flumph had insisted that the Monster Hunters bring a length of rope and a torch with them. Rhionda sheathed her sword and uncoiled her silken rope as Buntleby examined the rock where the flumph was pointing. Hidden in the shadows of the overhang was a narrow opening. "Looks pretty tight," he commented. "Good thing we didn't bring Grindle with us." There was simply no way that Grindle's 300-pound mass would fit through the narrow fissure.</p><p></p><p>Rhionda looked around for a place to tie the end of her rope; finding none, she pulled a piton out of her backpack and began hammering it into the stone near the narrow entrance. Meanwhile, Buntleby picked up a suitable rock and cast a <em>light</em> spell on it. Seeing this, the little green flumph maneuvered over to him and gave a "no-no" shake of a tentacle. "No spells," it reminded Buntleby.</p><p></p><p>"I thought that was only once we were inside your temple," he said.</p><p></p><p>"No spells," the flumph repeated adamantly. "No magic. Told you. Standard rule." Buntleby shrugged and dropped the rock at his feet, then cast around for the torch and the tinderbox.</p><p></p><p>"Is this the only entrance to your temple?" Willowquisp asked the flumph.</p><p></p><p>"One more," the flumph replied. "Over there." It pointed to a section of the foothill some distance away. In the predawn dark, Willowquisp couldn't quite make it out.</p><p></p><p>"But what about underground entrances?" he asked.</p><p></p><p>"Are none."</p><p></p><p>"Why do you want to know?" interrupted Spontayne.</p><p></p><p>"Just curious," admitted Willowquisp. "I haven't heard of a grick being sighted on the surface before. So far, everyone who's seen one's seen it underground. I was just wondering how this one got into the flumph's cavern, is all."<strong>[9]</strong></p><p></p><p>"Through there," squeaked the flumph, pointing to the narrow opening through which Rhionda had pitched her length of rope. "Okay, we're ready, guys," she said. "I'll go first." She started crawling headfirst into the tunnel, until the flumph halted her.</p><p></p><p>"Me first. You follow. Feet first," it recommended. "Steep slope. No fall."</p><p></p><p>"Okay," said Rhionda, turning around and letting the flumph whiz by before backing her way into the tunnel. "How about you next with the torch, Bunt?"</p><p></p><p>Traveling backward through the narrow tunnel was not Buntleby's idea of a good time, especially since he knew they were heading into a confrontation with a relatively unknown creature. Most Monster Hunts weren't this slipshod; they usually had a better idea about what they were going up against and had at least made some tentative strategies about how they would take out their prey. Buntleby wished for the comforting presence of his osquip familiar; Ozzie had a lifetime's experience crawling through dark passageways, and his teeth - which could eat through solid stone - would probably be useful in fighting the grick. Still, Buntleby also realized that bringing Ozzie into a temple full of rodent-eating flumphs was just asking for trouble. He gave a resigned sigh and continued backing down the shaft.</p><p></p><p>The confining passageway had become nearly vertical, and Buntleby transferred the burning torch to his mouth, requiring both hands to hold the rope on his way down. He could hear Spontayne grunting above him, and only hoped Willowquisp was faring well even further up the shaft. The elderly scholar didn't often engage in such physical pursuits. <em>All we need is for Willowquisp to fall down on us</em>, Buntleby thought wryly.</p><p></p><p>"I'm out of the tunnel, at the top of the open cavern," reported Rhionda. "I'll just--" Her sentence was broken by a sudden scream and a sickening thud.</p><p></p><p>"Rrnnnda!" cried Buntleby, which was as close as he could get to his companion's name with a torch clenched in his teeth. He rubbernecked his head back and forth, trying to look down past his body to the cavern below to see what had befallen her, to no avail. When he turned his attention back to the rope, intending to increase the speed of his descent, he noticed what should have been painfully obvious: holding a burning torch against a silken rope was Not A Good Thing At All. Cursing his own stupidity, he tried calling a warning up to Spontayne and Willowquisp above with a torch clenched in his teeth while simultaneously attempting to keep a grip on the rope with his feet and left hand and pat out the flames on the rope with his right.</p><p></p><p>That was a lot to try doing all at once. The rope made it easier for him: once it broke where he had set it on fire, he didn't have to worry about doing any of those things anymore.</p><p></p><p>Buntleby hit the cavern floor hard, landing on his back and wonking the back of his head hard enough to send the world spinning. The torch fell from his mouth and singed his left ear; the new pain helped draw his attention from the old. He groaned, rolled over on his side, and came face-to-face with Rhionda. She was covered in a sheen of sweat, clutching her leg with both hands, her teeth gritted in pain. Looking down at her leg, Buntleby immediately saw why: her left shin bone jutted out of her leg just above her boot.</p><p></p><p>Like many another who found himself in a similar situation, Buntleby asked just about the stupidest thing possible: "Are you okay?" Rhionda just glared at him and fired daggers with her eyes. Meanwhile, Spontayne had apparently discovered that the rope was now ablaze; Buntleby heard his frantic cries of "Up! Up up up up up up!" to Willowquisp.</p><p></p><p>"Tried using--<em>boots of levitation</em>," Rhionda explained between gasps of pain. "Didn't--work."</p><p></p><p>"Told you," said the flumph as it maneuvered over by the two unbelievably stupid humans. Even with its ridiculous little squeaky-voice, the flumph managed to project an air of total exasperation, as if to say "How many times do I have to say it?" Still, it gave another try, emphasizing the second word of each pidgin mini-sentence as if that might finally make the humans understand: "Sacred <em>temple</em>. No <em>magic</em>. No <em>work</em>."</p><p></p><p>"We're in an <em>antimagic field</em>!" reasoned Buntleby. The flumph just lifted its eyes heavenward and shrugged its tentacles in an amazingly human "why me?" gesture.</p><p></p><p>Naturally, it was at that moment the grick chose to make an appearance.<strong>[10]</strong></p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Richards, post: 2191486, member: 508"] The Monster Hunters stood at the foothills of the mountains just north of the city. "Secret cavern," admonished the flumph. "No tell. You promise." "We promise," agreed Buntleby. He brandished a slim dagger, as did Spontayne. Even Willowquisp sported a dagger, although his was a "loaner" from Buntleby, as Willowquisp's exploits tended more toward the academic and less toward the physical. Still, he wasn't about to miss out on seeing firsthand the interior of one of the flumphs' mysterious holy caverns. He had longed to see one from the first time he read about them in Cartificant the Learned's published papers on the subject. Plus, he figured, he had three other Monster Hunters to see to his safety. "Right then," said Rhionda, brandishing her longsword. "Let's go. Where exactly is this entrance of yours?" "Just ahead," squeaked the flumph, pointing with an outthrust tentacle at an overhanging rock. "Need rope." The flumph had insisted that the Monster Hunters bring a length of rope and a torch with them. Rhionda sheathed her sword and uncoiled her silken rope as Buntleby examined the rock where the flumph was pointing. Hidden in the shadows of the overhang was a narrow opening. "Looks pretty tight," he commented. "Good thing we didn't bring Grindle with us." There was simply no way that Grindle's 300-pound mass would fit through the narrow fissure. Rhionda looked around for a place to tie the end of her rope; finding none, she pulled a piton out of her backpack and began hammering it into the stone near the narrow entrance. Meanwhile, Buntleby picked up a suitable rock and cast a [i]light[/i] spell on it. Seeing this, the little green flumph maneuvered over to him and gave a "no-no" shake of a tentacle. "No spells," it reminded Buntleby. "I thought that was only once we were inside your temple," he said. "No spells," the flumph repeated adamantly. "No magic. Told you. Standard rule." Buntleby shrugged and dropped the rock at his feet, then cast around for the torch and the tinderbox. "Is this the only entrance to your temple?" Willowquisp asked the flumph. "One more," the flumph replied. "Over there." It pointed to a section of the foothill some distance away. In the predawn dark, Willowquisp couldn't quite make it out. "But what about underground entrances?" he asked. "Are none." "Why do you want to know?" interrupted Spontayne. "Just curious," admitted Willowquisp. "I haven't heard of a grick being sighted on the surface before. So far, everyone who's seen one's seen it underground. I was just wondering how this one got into the flumph's cavern, is all."[b][9][/b] "Through there," squeaked the flumph, pointing to the narrow opening through which Rhionda had pitched her length of rope. "Okay, we're ready, guys," she said. "I'll go first." She started crawling headfirst into the tunnel, until the flumph halted her. "Me first. You follow. Feet first," it recommended. "Steep slope. No fall." "Okay," said Rhionda, turning around and letting the flumph whiz by before backing her way into the tunnel. "How about you next with the torch, Bunt?" Traveling backward through the narrow tunnel was not Buntleby's idea of a good time, especially since he knew they were heading into a confrontation with a relatively unknown creature. Most Monster Hunts weren't this slipshod; they usually had a better idea about what they were going up against and had at least made some tentative strategies about how they would take out their prey. Buntleby wished for the comforting presence of his osquip familiar; Ozzie had a lifetime's experience crawling through dark passageways, and his teeth - which could eat through solid stone - would probably be useful in fighting the grick. Still, Buntleby also realized that bringing Ozzie into a temple full of rodent-eating flumphs was just asking for trouble. He gave a resigned sigh and continued backing down the shaft. The confining passageway had become nearly vertical, and Buntleby transferred the burning torch to his mouth, requiring both hands to hold the rope on his way down. He could hear Spontayne grunting above him, and only hoped Willowquisp was faring well even further up the shaft. The elderly scholar didn't often engage in such physical pursuits. [i]All we need is for Willowquisp to fall down on us[/i], Buntleby thought wryly. "I'm out of the tunnel, at the top of the open cavern," reported Rhionda. "I'll just--" Her sentence was broken by a sudden scream and a sickening thud. "Rrnnnda!" cried Buntleby, which was as close as he could get to his companion's name with a torch clenched in his teeth. He rubbernecked his head back and forth, trying to look down past his body to the cavern below to see what had befallen her, to no avail. When he turned his attention back to the rope, intending to increase the speed of his descent, he noticed what should have been painfully obvious: holding a burning torch against a silken rope was Not A Good Thing At All. Cursing his own stupidity, he tried calling a warning up to Spontayne and Willowquisp above with a torch clenched in his teeth while simultaneously attempting to keep a grip on the rope with his feet and left hand and pat out the flames on the rope with his right. That was a lot to try doing all at once. The rope made it easier for him: once it broke where he had set it on fire, he didn't have to worry about doing any of those things anymore. Buntleby hit the cavern floor hard, landing on his back and wonking the back of his head hard enough to send the world spinning. The torch fell from his mouth and singed his left ear; the new pain helped draw his attention from the old. He groaned, rolled over on his side, and came face-to-face with Rhionda. She was covered in a sheen of sweat, clutching her leg with both hands, her teeth gritted in pain. Looking down at her leg, Buntleby immediately saw why: her left shin bone jutted out of her leg just above her boot. Like many another who found himself in a similar situation, Buntleby asked just about the stupidest thing possible: "Are you okay?" Rhionda just glared at him and fired daggers with her eyes. Meanwhile, Spontayne had apparently discovered that the rope was now ablaze; Buntleby heard his frantic cries of "Up! Up up up up up up!" to Willowquisp. "Tried using--[i]boots of levitation[/i]," Rhionda explained between gasps of pain. "Didn't--work." "Told you," said the flumph as it maneuvered over by the two unbelievably stupid humans. Even with its ridiculous little squeaky-voice, the flumph managed to project an air of total exasperation, as if to say "How many times do I have to say it?" Still, it gave another try, emphasizing the second word of each pidgin mini-sentence as if that might finally make the humans understand: "Sacred [i]temple[/i]. No [i]magic[/i]. No [i]work[/i]." "We're in an [i]antimagic field[/i]!" reasoned Buntleby. The flumph just lifted its eyes heavenward and shrugged its tentacles in an amazingly human "why me?" gesture. Naturally, it was at that moment the grick chose to make an appearance.[b][10][/b] [/QUOTE]
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