The rage possessed frog takes in Rose attack; it takes Mysty stab, but falls chopped off for Hound slashes.
Pyre put one of the frogs on fire, and the same one drops to the fetid humid ground to put down the fire, so It’s only a matter of seconds before the pew pew finishes off the frog. That however made the other one escape.
--
Some seconds after the frog was dead, Pyre teleports again to Rose side.
”It’s done.” the celestial lies.
Rose smiles, reaches up to pet the celestial, and pours hellfire into it.
"Why? Why would you lie to me? Lay down and beg my forgiveness."
The little archon fell to the floor in pain whining out surprisingly beautiful music of suffering.
"You cannot die. I will not let you. You can hurt though. You can hurt until it feels like you are dead and then I will drag you back from the other side again and again. You are mine. You will never go mad and you will never give up because you are an angel. You are built to endure the agonies of all creation."
"And I am built to inflict it."
She trod upon the glowing sphere, her metal boot cracking the liquid surface as she dragged her foot through like she was kicking a puddle. It did not kill the little archon, but it was clear that it was in a great deal of pain.
"You will suffer me forever."
"How much is up to you."
"Now crawl at my feet. I will tell you when you have earned the privilege of getting up off the floor."
The little archon oozed along the ground after its mistress leaving a trail of glowing red-gold liquid in its wake.
|
Mysty looks at rose with a little exasperation. Still it was interesting, what was happening to the little outsider, so she wasn't that upset. Still, more important things.
look, rose, the damned little thing probably deserves this, but a little focus is needed here. One of the frog men escaped, yes? Then let us get ready to defeat them. We may be facing a whole tribe of them.
She looks at the crawling outsider. punishment deferred is not punishment denied. Hurt it later. Tempus fugit.
"Yeah. No stopping it now. They'll know we're coming." Rose said, her armor scraping as she shrugged.
"Lets get moving. Nahia can you work that healing wand while we move?"
Hound will drink some CMW potions
Grublejack kick the dead frog and after Mysty comments, he walks over and pick it up, tossing the body into Hound direction.
”Tribe, Tinny un’ says? Sniffing un’ can claim chieftain, since he killed the last one.” she ogre suggests implying that you might have just killed the ‘tribe’ leader.
Lord of the Frogs? I'm moving up in the world.
Nahia looks over the body of the 'vicious' frog with a smirk.
If there is a tribe here that would consider that one a leader... we just might be able to get some slaves after all... even if they aren't the most attractive of servants...
She nods at Rose and brings out the shiny new wand that the Baron's black market contacts had retrieved for them, waving it about in the air as she gets back to her normal duties.
Hound will take a tap of the wand
Mysty searches the bodies for any magic item, but unsurprisingly, there is none. The greatsword however seems to better than the rest of the frog gear.
@Nahia the small pool in the room you are seems strange, there’s something there that make you think it’s not water.
@Hound the small pool has an sour and sharp smell, which makes you think that it isn’t water in the pool.
The trail leads back into the first room and from there, to the right, first ignored by the villains. It winds up in two other caves, and following the trails takes you into the right passage.
Another cave room, this one with its many stalagmites and shadowy corners, this cavern is a natural ambush site, or that is what Rose thought when he first saw it, but no frog here to offer any danger.
The trail continues through the cave, leading into a larger room, with an immediate passage to the left and right, and a larger path continuing ahead. The trail however, turns immediately at the passage to the left, and from there, you can hear what appear to be dozens of frogs croaking, but for predators such as yourself, that sound had only one meaning: Fear.
The pool smells sour and sharp. I doubt there is water in it.
Seren skips out of town, her arms burdened with supplies, Grumblejack following behind, looking like a classic lumberjack with the large greataxe slung over one shoulder.
”This morning is going to be a fine one!” She exclaims happily, patting her muscled companion. ”Come let us go excavate a Tree!”
-------------
She whistles in appreciation as she comes across the scene of their battle from the day before, the forest a jumble of broken branches and scorched earth. A laugh escapes her as she surveys the surroundings and spots the corpse of the dead treant. ”He’s bigger then I remember.”
She drops her supplies at the base of the rootless oak tree, preparing the ingredients for the undertaking before her. Silver dust burst into the air as she carefully opens the pouch filled with the minute flecks, sunshine dancing off them. Seren carefully takes a handful of the dust, slowly drawing a large circle around the corpse. She smiles wickedly as the grass and shrubs near her circle begin to shrivel and decay, black undeath scorching the earth. So far so good
She looks on to her masterpiece, a near perfect circle of death and decay in an otherwise vibrant jungle, Black leaves cascade down from the sky as she powers up the circle of desecration.
Smiling, she looks over at Grumble. ”Hey big guy, time to do your thing. I need that arm over there excavated from under that tree.”
Watching happily as grumble quickly makes work of the dead tree on top of her treant, Seren slows her breathing, pooling her power for what undoubtedly was going to be the biggest test of her skills.
Her smile turns to a grimace as she touches the Treant with a hand, dawning realization at the strength of the creature they killed…and the power it was going to require to bring it back. Too late to turn back now…
She steps lightly into the circle of death, feeling the unholy power pulsing within her desiccated veins. Her body slowly whiten as she calls on her dark lord to help supply the power for the spell, his unholy power overwhelming what parts of her body were still vibrant, ashen skins slowly replacing the fair tan that her body had once been. She feels her muscles tighten within her chest as the power tries to overwhelm her, her heart skipping a handful of beats as she fights for control.
Finally the moment arrives, the power dancing erratically through her body. She places her other hand on the massive Treant, the connection jolting her like a bolt of lightning. She lets out a piercing scream, the pain indescribable, and unrelenting. Pulse after pules of magic flowing from the ground using her as a conduit into the corpse at her feet.
Her knees buckle as the last pulse racks her body, the sudden silence, numbing her to her surroundings. After first nothing happens, and a cry of despair escapes her lips as she once again reconsider her lifes course. Seren is so lost in her own thoughts that she fails to notice the first shake of the treant at her feet, the newly raised creature slowly stirring back to life. It’s not until the now freed hand reaches up from the ground that Seren finally notices her success. Tears of joy flowing down her face as all her thoughts of misery about her life fade in an instant. Struggling to her feet in exhaustion, Seren reaches out for Grumble. ”Support me for a second Grumble. Let’s see what I’ve just done.”
The Treant tries to move, still firmly trapped beneath the large oak. ”Grumble. Give it the Axe. I think our work here is done. Let it get itself out.” She asks quickly.
”Oh me and you shall have such fun Mr.Treant. Just as soon as I’m back.” She adds, with a quirked smile. A smile that grows even brighter as she notices the hooves of a skeletal horse twitching under one of the fallen branches.
Seren looks down at the frog creature in contemplation. ooo I hate frogs, but by our unholy lord you were strong. Fighting with herself, Seren tilts her head back and forth, having a mental conversation with herself.
”Alright, fine.” She states aloud to no one in particular.
”This one is mine. We could use some fodder for this area anyways I suppose.”
She reaches into her pack, procuring the last onyx from her bag. ”Get back.” She command her companions.
Her head droops as a deep sigh escapes her. This is going to hurt. Let’s try something else this time.
Looking down on the dead frog creature Seren mumble to herself. ”you’re going to take some of my life anyways, let see if I can give it too you first.”.
She pulls a small dagger from her pack, quickly taking the blade to her wrist.
.
The blood slowly drips from her veins in thick clumps, already rotten and congealing as her power rots the living cells instantly. She watches intently as the blood sizzles upon hitting the corpse, absorbing and melting the muscle and sinew of the frogmen at her feet.
It doesn’t take long for the skin and muscle to dissolve away, the deformed head of the Skeletal frogmen looking misshapen and deformed against the otherwise humanoid body.
”Rise” Seren states in final command. Upon utterance of the word, the blood she had spilled onto the creature pooling in its sockets, twin black balls of death staring out through lidless sockets, as it reaches back and grabs the greatsword it had wield in life.
Seren grins happily. ”Not quite as bad that time.” She states, again to no one in particular.
------------------------------------
Seren falls back to the back of the group, exhaustion slowing her step, and thoughts clouding her perception. Her breath comes in labored gasps as she slowly feels the power ebb back into her bones though she hardly notices the hardship, her mind locked within itself, thinking back on her latest ritual, her eyes watering. Am I more dead than alive now?
Hound grunts at the newest addition and will lead the others along with Rose.
Nahia watches as Seren reels from her latest ritual.
I wonder what that feels like? I'm no stranger to pain but I almost wonder if a cold, seeping numbness might actually be worse... At least pain itself is evidence of life, your last final moments of action and agency... With a slow deteration like that... where is the turning point? When are you mostly dead? Or is it just a switch... you have some life until suddenly you have none...
She steps up behind Seren, placing a hand on her upper arm, the oracle's skin cold and clammy in this wet cave. A gentle squeeze is all she gives before trudging forward through the muck.
- - - - -
Nahia looks at the pool that Hound points out. Leaning closer, she scrunches her eyebrows at it. "There is definitely something odd about it..."
@All
Seren skips out of town, her arms burdened with supplies, Grumblejack following behind, looking like a classic lumberjack with the large greataxe slung over one shoulder.
”This morning is going to be a fine one!” She exclaims happily, patting her muscled companion. ”Come let us go excavate a Tree!”
-------------
She whistles in appreciation as she comes across the scene of their battle from the day before, the forest a jumble of broken branches and scorched earth. A laugh escapes her as she surveys the surroundings and spots the corpse of the dead treant. ”He’s bigger then I remember.”
She drops her supplies at the base of the rootless oak tree, preparing the ingredients for the undertaking before her. Silver dust burst into the air as she carefully opens the pouch filled with the minute flecks, sunshine dancing off them. Seren carefully takes a handful of the dust, slowly drawing a large circle around the corpse. She smiles wickedly as the grass and shrubs near her circle begin to shrivel and decay, black undeath scorching the earth. So far so good
She looks on to her masterpiece, a near perfect circle of death and decay in an otherwise vibrant jungle, Black leaves cascade down from the sky as she powers up the circle of desecration.
Smiling, she looks over at Grumble. ”Hey big guy, time to do your thing. I need that arm over there excavated from under that tree.”
Watching happily as grumble quickly makes work of the dead tree on top of her treant, Seren slows her breathing, pooling her power for what undoubtedly was going to be the biggest test of her skills.
Her smile turns to a grimace as she touches the Treant with a hand, dawning realization at the strength of the creature they killed…and the power it was going to require to bring it back. Too late to turn back now…
She steps lightly into the circle of death, feeling the unholy power pulsing within her desiccated veins. Her body slowly whiten as she calls on her dark lord to help supply the power for the spell, his unholy power overwhelming what parts of her body were still vibrant, ashen skins slowly replacing the fair tan that her body had once been. She feels her muscles tighten within her chest as the power tries to overwhelm her, her heart skipping a handful of beats as she fights for control.
Finally the moment arrives, the power dancing erratically through her body. She places her other hand on the massive Treant, the connection jolting her like a bolt of lightning. She lets out a piercing scream, the pain indescribable, and unrelenting. Pulse after pules of magic flowing from the ground using her as a conduit into the corpse at her feet.
Finally the moment arrives, the power dancing erratically through her body. She places her other hand on the massive Treant, the connection jolting her like a bolt of lightning. She lets out a piercing scream, the pain indescribable, and unrelenting. Pulse after pules of magic flowing from the ground using her as a conduit into the corpse at her feet.
Only, the power does not stop flowing and her screams becomes louder and louder. It don’t need a magic user to notice something went wrong!
A black, writhing wave rolled onto the guardian glade. Seren buffeted to her knees maintaining it, the place around her blighted as the necrous power rolled down the slopes, engulfing nearby trees, animals and allies. Grumblejack watched as a midnight flash swallowed the hapless forest, followed by a thump that thundered through the earth. When the flash dissipated, the forest lay in rotting heaps, mown down like stalks of grain.
Necromantic sorcery. Cursed magic, the Breath of Chaos.
His breaths coming fast and tight in his chest, Grumblejack saw the oracle magic flow into her. Despite all the screaming, she shaped it, muttering chain-words with her yelling, then unleashed the power…
Later, when the necrotic power vanished, Seren laid down on the floor, her disguise if any torn apart, around her, a pool of rotten blood. Her body several cuts from where the rooting blood poured freely, and strangely enough, the blood seemed alive, moving on it’s own, entering the treant dead body…
@Nahia/Hound
This small wet cave, through a bizarre natural process, sweats acid from its northern wall. The acid has pooled and anyone touching the seemingly clear water takes 1d6 acid damage. Double this damage if anyone foolishly drinks from pool. This pool is surprisingly deep and contains roughly 100 vials worth of acid (1000 gp worth). Better, the pool replenishes completely every month. That means that every week the PCs control the horn, they can harvest 250 gp worth of potent acid from
this pool.
After raising her new minion(s), the bloody and dreadful bloody skeleton(s), the party moves following the trail left by the fleeing boggards, just a bit further, they find the burned body of the boggard chased by Pew Pew.
Hearing the fear in the frog-like croaks, the party decides it’s better to face whatever is inside, ruthless and decisively.
Every boggard in the Lower Caverns seems to lives here in seven crude mud and thatch huts. There were sixteen bane-wog boggards in total, not counting the leaders;
You can't say if the boggards are stunned by surprise or fear.
Fact is, none venture forward, none challenge your advance. After some brief silence, from the mud tent, emerges a boggard, that you are pretty sure is a female.
She walks past the stunned throng of frogs, stopping in front of Hound. She says something in their frog-like language, that none of you understands. Then, tentatively, the boggard point to Hound and to tent she came from, some moments ago.
Hound looks to Rose and shrugs. Do any of you have magic that can allow us to understand them?
"What, you don't speak frog?" Rose said in sarcastic judgement while she looked to Seren and Nahia.
Only Pidgin Frog. Ribbit, ribbit.
"Pidgeonfrog. Like an Owlbear, only a lot more stupid."
Nahia watches the frog people carefully, wondering how they will react to the skeleton of their former (probably) leader.
In a hushed voice, she responds "I can try some other things, but this is foreign to me. And no, I have no magics for this. I know such magics exist, but I've never needed them before."
Looking at Hound, she asks "Are... are you going to follow? Are we going to follow?"
I'll follow. Perhaps your snake friend can come with me in case some treachery is attempted?
Hound follows the female frog inside the tent. The village treasury is kept here, scattered among the many skins and bunches of grass and leaves. The “treasury” is a collection of large bones, broken weapons and armor, crocodile and snake skins and shiny rocks that have impressed the later chief over the years. Among this worthless junk however, there are a few legitimate treasures. There are two large chunks of flawed but valuable amethyst; a fossilized mammoth ivory tusk; a fearsome‐looking helm, winged and red‐plumed, decorated with grinning goblin faces.
Hound muses. Huh, tribute? Hound points at the treasure and them to himself. Having no skill at this sort of thing, he attempts the simplest way of getting. 'Mine?' across.
The female frog looks at you without understanding what you really want. When you point to the 'treasure' and then to you, she walks to it, pick it up and deliver to you. It's easy to see she thought you were ordering her to get it, instead of asking if it was yours.
The boggards keept in stunned silence while the party talks among themselves and Hound tries to figure what the female boggar wants, until some moments later, from north of the village, another boggard walks in, using a crude made staff to support his walking, his eyes clouded and sure enough, he only stops when he is closer to you 25ft as if he could not see you before.
At this one arrival, all the boggards starts croaking at the same time, in their frog-like voice, if you did not knew better, one might suspect you just found a frog swarm.
The shaman-like boggard then turns to the newcomers, the invaders, and in a barely understandable common says ”Be right. Sho’ power. ” he points to the tent that the same female pointed and says ”Chief hut. Chief treasures.” then he points to the female boggard, draw two lines in the ground ”Chief woma’.” pointing to Hound ”U woma’.”
In all this exchange, you got the impressing he is, for lack of a better word, high on some kind of drug.
The shaman-like walks two steps closer and continues ”Father Dagon showed Zikomo Hears-the-Father. Kumanda Slays-Nine-Men slay, restore Father Dagon glory.”
My woman? nopenopenopenope.
Hound rolls his eyes.
Rose burst out laughing.
Nahia smiles at Hound and says "Congratulations! I can make several mixtures that might make your consummation more... fruitful..."
Hound gives Nahia a flat stare that shows nothing of what might be lurking in his head. He instead points at Rose. She chief! Me servant, this her woman. He then hands the helm to Rose and everything it implies as he walks to her side.
Rose took the helm, pulled off her own long enough to give Hound an amused look, and then put the frog-people's helm on to cement Hound's claim of her position.
Rose takes the helm of Hound , and puts it on .
At once, what were croaks turns into a rudimentary common she is able to understand what the frogs are saying and what is being said that the big man is a coward, and that they’ll no follow the ‘little’ one. A chief is recognized by combat and since Hound killed the last chief, he takes the post as long he is alive or someone else takes it from him.
The shaman eyes you warily but says nothing waiting your answer.
Rose was a little confused at first but got used to it pretty fast. "They think you're the boss." she said to Hound. "You killed the last chief, so the job's yours until someone kills you."
Then she takes the helm off and tosses it back to him. "You'll want to put the helm on."
The shaman that was waiting patiently for your answer turns to the throng of frogs and yell something making them quiet, he then turns again to the villains ”Wha’ u do ‘ere?”
Hound sighs and puts on the helm and addresses the frogs. We are here to find the temple used by humans long ago. Do you know if it lies here?
Nahia keeps back, letting the other two preside over this one, lightly giggling to herself as they nearly play hot-potato with the helm of leadership.
Yeah, they can handle this one. Last thing I need is to become some new priestess, or find myself with a frog husband...
Dagon is the demon prince of sea creatures. He is worshiped as a deity by legions of sahuagin, locathah, skum, lizardfolk, tritons (those that have accepted the ways of evil), and some merfolk, and for the purpose of this adventure, boggards! :D
The shaman take some time to understand Hound words but them it points to the sky above the cave and waves mentioning the whole place ”Dagon temple, sky abo'. No huma', never huma'.”
With the helm, he is now able to understand the crowd and some more insults were added to their repertoire. Coward, ‘tongueless’ . Some of them point to the chief consort and question the new chief ‘lack of lust’.
|
|
um, does hound have to demonstrate? I mean...yuck. Hound why don't you yell at them a bit. Kill one or two. Just...no demos with the locals.
Shade slaps her leg. I know, I know. Throw one into the acid pool. Then we can see how effective it is. Or...they can understand they are under new management. She finishes looking at the frogmen balefully.