Túrante takes another swing.
This one connects!
Túrante moves toward the other fungbold, sword primed to strike. However, as she comes into reach of the fungbold, she feels the ground give way underfoot.
Small sticks whittled into spikes pierce through her boot and foot as she steps into a small hole. Still, through the pain, she stabs at the fungbold at hits.
With her extended low light vision, Túrante can see further into the tunnel, where she sees another fungbold standing, waiting with glowing blue vial in hand.
Unfazed by the gore before her, Fenchurch heaves a sigh of relief as the fungbold falls.
Gathering her wits, she heads around the bend of the cave to assist Túrante, heedless of exposing herself to danger as she does so.
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Liamae realizes she may have made a mistake in attacking Khari, but her suprise had caused her to make a rash decision. With Moira already chasing after the woman, the elf shakes her head and moves to support her princess, firing an arrow at the fungbold!
Liamae shoots around Túrante and just hits the fungbold. It's a grazing blow, though, and the fungbold still stands.
The fungbold waiting in ambush hurls the glowing flask at Fenchurch, who now stands in the way.
The bomb lands at Fenchurch's feet and explodes in a burst of liquid flame, scalding Fenchurch a bit.
Meanwhile, Khari stops as Moira calls out to her.
As she turns to face the bard, her face has returned back to the pretty visage it once was. Moira can see tears running down her face, "Please," she begs, "I can explain. I'm not a mons-s-ster."
"Good enough for me, sister. Liamae was just startled, and I don't blame her. You should tell us these important things you have to tell us! But not now: we gotta go help! Stick close and it'll be ok, I think!"
Moira grabs Khari's hand and starts back towards the action all hero-style, sword bare and flashing in her other hand. Light on the hat. The shadows flicker wildly as she hustles and stumbles towards the sounds of combat and the flashes of flame.
Khari sniffles "Ok" as she takes Moira’s hand and runs back toward the combat.
Light soon enough returns to the tunnel.
Singed and barely standing, the fungbold drops its sling and makes a last ditch attack against the trapped Túrante.
It claws past Túrante’s armor and rips into flesh.
Iagon tries to take it out for good.
With Moira’s glowing hat behind him, the dancing shadows in the dark cavern obscure his vision.
Liamae fires again!
Liamae fires into the fungbold and it drops, freeing up Túrante for the moment. The bomber stands with spear ready on the edge of darkness, Túrante with her foot trapped, and Fenchurch between them.
With one foot trapped in the stakes, the ranger wedges her sword in the hole and uses it to shove several of the pieces of wood to the side, working them back and forth to create room in hopes that she'll be able to get her foot back out.
Túrante dislodges her foot from most of the spikes, or rather, dislodges the spikes from her foot. She tries pulling herself out but finds her foot is twisted in the hole and still stuck. If only she had a little more more leverage.
Fenchurch curses as some of the fire washes over her, singing the haphazard collection of furs she wears over her armor. She feels some light burns forming along her more sparsely covered forearms.
She is about to move for forward and bear down upon the fungbold responsible for the burning flask when she notices Túrante struggling to free herself. The knight hesitates for a moment, torn between meting out revenge on her assailant and assisting her ally before ultimately reaching out with her right hand to grab Túrante by the armpit and lift - hopefully providing enough additional leverage and pull to free her.
Fenchurch gives Túrante the sturdy support she needs to get herself free of the punji trap.
From the darkness, a faint blue light appears and sails towards Fenchurch.
Without its ally in the way, the bomber throws with more accuracy and hits Fenchurch square in the chest. The blast spreads throughout the tunnel, but Túrante easily ducks behind Fenchurch’s larger frame.
"Please, don’t be s-s-scared," Khari lets go of Moira’s hand and moves forward into the tunnel, her face again morphing into a spidery visage.
"Oh, what a twisted web we weave... I'll throw my hat into the ring!"
Moira moves until she has a line of sight down the tunnel, then, hoping to help her friends without drawing undue attention and bombs to herself, she discus-es her hat at the foe.
Moira deftly tosses her hat to land at the fungbold bomber’s feet, illuminating the dark tunnel. All can see the tunnel curves to the east just behind the fungbold.
Iagon steps through the gathering crowd to come up next to Fenchurch and unleashes another blast.
What should have been a hit is instead deflected by an invisible shield of force before the fungbold. It snarls and laughs at its own fungal cleverness.
"Damn it!" curses Iagon.
Liamae takes a deep breath to steady her nerves as Khari returns. Trying to keep her cool, she steps up a bit and tries to hit the distant fungbold with a ray of fire from her gloves!
Fenchurch lets out a hiss as the fire explodes over her again, leaving burns across her face and singing away some of her dark, red hair.
With a howl, she runs towards the kobold, axe raised high in the air, and brings it down on the creature.
Liamae’s ray burns the fungbold, and the tunnel fills with the savory aroma of grilled portobello.
Fenchurch stumbles as she charges through difficult terrain and her swing is wide. She does close in with the fungbold bomber, who smiles viciously at her, fungal gills opening wide in anticipation.
Túrante’s foot is free, Moira’s hat fills the tunnel with light, but space is starting to get cramped.
Túrante moves up next to Fenchurch in the cramped space and makes the bomber pay in kind for the traps that the fungoids set.
Túrante slips in beside Fenchurch and thrusts her blade just past the invisible shield of force and through the fungbold. She pulls her blade out, and finds it dripping with black mold.
The bomber yet stands and it cackles at the two warriors towering before it:
It’s gills open wide and unleash a cloud of black spores.
Maybe Fenchurch saw it coming. Maybe Túrante and Iagon didn’t, but the two of them get their nostrils full of the spores, as they experience what Moira went through, their throats and lungs burning in pain.
The fungbold bomber then smartly moves deeper into the tunnel.
"Oh no, get back!" shouts the terrifyingly helpful Khari, as she steps forward and grants Iagon some Resistance.
"And that's why we don't get too close to the monsters."
Moira pulls her sling and gives the thing a fling.
"Oh no you don't!" Fenchurch growls as the fungbold attempts to beat a hasty retreat. She appears to have not even noticed the spore cloud expanding out through the area.
She sweeps her axe out in front of her, left to right, at the fleeing fungbold.
The fungbold eludes Fanchurch’s axe and Moira’s bullet and reaches the far edge of the spore cloud.
"No, you won’t get away!" Iagon calls out after the fleeing fungbold bomber. Already being poisoned, he runs after the fungbold too, and fires.
The spores cloud his eyes and burn his lungs.
He breaks into a coughing fit.
"Princess, get out of there!" hisses Khari.
Stone faced, Fenchurch marches inexorably after the bomb-throwing fungbold, dragging her green-hued axe along the ground behind her.
Over the grinding and clanging of her axe her voice croaks furiously "Just die already!" as she swings her axe upwards towards the creature's midsection.
The fungbold listens obediently to Fenchurch’s demand as she cleaves cleanly through its torso. Again, black sludge oozes out from its reanimated corpse. This gives Túrante the chance to leave the spore cloud safely, however Fenchurch is still in danger of inhaling to poisonous spores.
Fenchurch stands tall as a mighty oak.
Beyond the fallen fungbold bomber, the tunnel continues on towards the east before falling again into darkness.
"Fall back out of the spores!" Liamae calls. She readies to cast a spell to bolster Turante.
Iagon soon feels not worse anymore.
Túrante feels a little worse before the poison wears off.
They recover their breath, and the spore cloud dissipates. Moira is free to return hat to head. The tunnel continues to the east, and seems to stretch on for a while. The bomber seems to have some goodies.
When the fight is done, Khari’s face returns to her young human visage.
Moira, having swept it off the cave floor and dusted off the dormant spores, tips her hat back so it doesn't shine on Khari's face in an aggressive interrogation sort of way. She smiles at the spider-girl and says, "Khari, that was... startling. What was that you did just now? Where does that power come from?"
Liamae dotes over Turante, insisting that she sit down and rest. "You are weakened, Your Highness. Perhaps we should fall back and seek restoration before pressing on?"
She eyes Khari warily as Moira questions her.
Khari shies back against the wall, holding herself close, "I am s-s-sorry. I was s-s-supposed to keep it a s-s-secret. I am an Aranea; I lived with my s-s-sisters and aunties in the forest. When we heard of the wizard Hunclay working with the dragon Aeteperax, I was s-s-sent to Belhaim to uncover their s-s-secrets. But, I was too late. The wizard was dead, and adventurers s-s-slew the dragon, s-s-so I convinced the townsfolk I was Hunclay’s niece, come to collect his estate. But, his estate had already been auctioned off and all that was left was his empty home. I s-s-should have left, but s-s-sweet Arnholde took a liking to me, and, I must admit, I enjoyed his flattery and attention, s-s-so I s-s-stayed. When he died, I hid in the manor, fearing the townsfolk would discover my true identity. When you folk s-s-showed up, I thought it was an opportunity to clear my name, s-s-so I wanted to help. Plus, you have s-s-such s-s-strange magics… I want to learn more." Her eyes glance over to Liamae almost lustfully.
"I will s-s-show you my true form, but please… don’t be afraid."
Liamae tries to remember what she has read about araneas, if anything.
"So, you're not an ettercap, then? That's what I thought you were when I attacked. I'm... I'm sorry for that," Liamae says. She offers a hesitant smile. "Okay, show us, if you please."
Liamae recalls Aranea are a type of shape shifting magical beast with sorcerous powers and a thirst for arcane knowledge. Their true form is… well…
Khari blushes under her dark silk veil and begins undressing, "It is s-s-such a beautiful dress. I don’t want to ruin it." When she’s stripped down to a simple silk undergarment, her body begins to morph. Again, multiple sets of eyes appear on her forehead, and her jaws open and distend into hideous mandibles. But, this time, the transformation continues. She lurches over and arachnid legs sprout from her torso, as her human arms and legs become hard and chitinous to match. Her body becomes bloated and skin darkens and hardens into a slick exoskeleton.
Khari shifts into an arachnid creature, with bloated abdomen and an intelligent gleam to her eyes. She’d be frightening and repulsive if you hadn’t already gotten to know her a bit… maybe she still is.
She speaks, "My magics are not that effective against plant creatures. In this form I am more powerful… more useful to you."
Regarding the ettercaps, she mentions, "We lived in proximity with the ettercaps, and kept a peace with them, s-s-sometimes trading goods and knowledge. But, they are s-s-servants of Mazmezz, and we are keepers of magics. Our agendas are not aligned."
"What lovely... chelicerae... you have..."
Liamae tries to keep a neutral facial expression as she gazes upon Khari's natural form. "Thank you, darling. Now, no more secrets, yes?"
Khari’s eight eyes gleam as she repeats, "No more s-s-secrets…"
She pauses, thinking, then adds, "If we continue down this tunnel, I can turn us all invisible for a time. In this form I can catch the fungus creatures in my webs, making them easier for you all to kill."
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"That would be very helpful. Try to catch the ones that throw spores, if you can. All this poison... it just makes me sick."
Moira rummages around among the dead and then passes out the Alchemist's Fire, pocketing one herself. She arranges the corpses of the kobolds with as much dignity as time permits, jetting her hands and clothes clean with sweet prestidigitation afterwards.
"C'mere, Fenchurch, you big lug. That was some fancy axework, lumberjane. Let me spruce you up. I'd pine away if something happened to you. I believe in sustainable foresters."
"You too, Túrante! I can't purge the poisons, but let's at least close the wounds..."
"And a little for me...
As Moira wands the others, Iagon drinks a potion.
Túrante does her best to stagger away, disoriented and savagely weakened.