As Vallan gets nearer to these mounds, they undulate and lurch at him.
Vallan steps up to the mold and swings his sword at the nearest one. "More critters fixin' tae battle!" he warns his companions. Always knew rabbit food would try to kill me one day. Somehow, he manages to miss the nearly immobile carpet of plant matter.
Wil splashes his way through the creek and past Hoots. He raises a shield and makes to interpose himself between the strange entities and his feathered friend.
Happy to finally be able to see again, Hoosible agrees to Vallan's suggestion that they check out the last of the water now. Ah reckon it's better now than once mah feathers've finished drying…
Seeing Vallan miss the pile of mold, Hoots calls out, "Hey Vallan, try again with your eyes closed, pardner. Ah think that's your problem!
"Or just leave it to Straight Shootin' Hoots Magaw!" He smiles as he shoots one of the oozes.
Groog happily dances through the water before stopping next to Vallan and utterly smashing the one Vallan tried to hit. ”Groog no like plant! Taste funny in mouth.”
”Snow, sick ‘em!” Dahlia remains behind, but has Snow go and attack the plants; The tiger romps through the two-foot deep water and gets ready to pounce the middle of the two oozes.
The two remaining oozes move towards their respective targets, Bonnie and Snow, and attempt to slam them, but both fail to do so.
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Vallan advances on the oozes, trying to hit one again. C'mon Vallan, show them who was born on a field of battle! He leaps up a few inches into the air and swings his greatsword down with all his strength. This time he manages to strike one of the mossy oozes. "Raha!" he says happily.
Snow bites and claws at the remaining ooze, ripping it to pieces, before running back to Dahlia with a piece of it in its mouth to give to its master.
With the young slime molds dead and destroyed, the group can see what they were growing off of; three corpses that look to be vaguely halfling in shape; Desna’s Desperados, the all-halfling group that was the first to venture into the caves. They apparently did not make it very far.
After a few minutes of scrounging around in the moldy, rotten corpses of the halflings, Vallan uncovers an agate that had originally been in one of the halflings’ vests, but had since fallen out into his chest cavity instead.
Vallan pokes through the molds and searches the room for anything useful. "Poor wee wankers. Tae meet such a fate. Gorum!" But maybe they was carryin' somethin' we kin use.
Oooooh, a shiny! Vallan thinks. "Look what I found!" he says to the others.
"Probably get almost 60 gold coins fer it," he continues, tucking the gem away.
The group pushes forward, deeper into the cavern, until they come across a 4-way intersection. A collection of crates, boxes, rubble, and scavenged metal lies heaped in the northwest section of this damp cave. Several strange chalk drawings of twisted, spiny plants, a strange three-legged creature, and emaciated four-armed humanoids mark the walls. The southern two tunnels lead deeper into the caves.
The southwestern tunnel leads into a small cavern upon which frost appears to cake the walls. The southeastern one, meanwhile, opens up into a much larger cavern.
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Vallan's Roll20 Perception: 16
Vallan heads into the north-western room, and takes a quick look around.
Seeing jack-all, Vallan continues on to the next chamber. He stops inside the door to asses the situation.
"It's not so congested down here. I don't think this place has spoken for a very, very long time. No mutters or murmurs. How sad." Wil maintains his position at the caboose, but remains oblivious to most of his surroundings as usual.
Groog follows Vallan, mimicking the dwarf. Unlike the dwarf, however, Groog finds something of note. "Groog find shinies!" Spotting seven small silvered disks, groog picks them up and looks at one; He shoves two up his nose, one for each nostril.
With Groog having attempted to shove the remaining silverdisks up his nose and failing, the group continue on down the southwestern tunnel. The temperature drops noticeably in this passageway, and a rim of white frost lines the walls and floor leading into the cavern beyond. What seems to be a light layer of brown dust carpets the cave floor beyond - a body of some sorts sits slumped against the western wall.
Vallan nearly walks into the freezing temperatures, but stops short of the icy room. Everyone can see their breaths; its as if it were winter down here.
"What's that?" Vallan asks the others, not recognizing the substance. "I dinnae want to clamber intae a freezing hole without knowing what I'm tae face." He waits for the others to chime in on the situation.
"Gyoog nun no," Groog says. He sees his pets not understanding his answer, so he repeats it.
"Gyoog nun no."
Still getting odd looks, he says it slower and louder.
"GYOOG. NUN. NO!"
Never does it cross his mind that the metal slabs in his nose is altering his voice, causing his "Groog dunno," to be misunderstood.
"Hmmmm. Cold doesn't bother me as much as it does most folks. Ah reckon I can take point for a bit. Groog, don't follow until I say it's safe." He pauses, then adds, "Or if I'm obviously in trouble and need your help but can't ask. Or..." --the owl grimmaces, thinking about how his instructions can be misinterpreted-- "maybe don't follow until Vallan or Bonnie Wil or Dahlia says to. Or me."
With that the feathered gunslinger takes a tentative step in to the icy chamber.
As Hoots enters the cavern, frost collects on his feathers and his breath is icy in the damp caverns. It feels as if the heat is being drawn from his body, though he resists it fairly well. For now.
A surprised shiver shoots up Hoots' back, standing his feathers on edge. "Ah don' reckon Ah've ever felt cold like that before. Reckon I can handle a bit more though, to see what's over here."
Hoots quickly jumps down into the frozen, moldy cavern and scoops up the corpse. As he does so, the very warmth from his body seems to leave him, forcing him to focus entirely upon staying conscious. He goes back over to the cavern's opening and throws the body up the small ledge before hopping up himself and dragging it to the relative warmth of the tunnel.
(Success)
(Success)
(Success)
(Failure)
(Failure)
(Failure)
Examining the body, it appears to be that of a human male; there appears to be strange ribbons and filaments of rust-colored fibers growing along his spine, throat, and chest, but none of the group are able to identify what the fibers are. However, the man apparently has some gear left on him; a quick look shows that he still wears his masterwork chain shirt, a set of masterwork thieves’ tools, a masterwork hand crossbow with a quarrel of five bolts, several empty vials and a pouch filled with seventy-five gold pieces.
Groog knew Hoots wanted to know what was on New Stiffy. He quickly sets to tearing everything but the basic clothing from the body. Once done, he shook New Stiffy to try to wake him up.
Hoots sits down and shivers, rubbing his hands together to get warm. "Dagnabbit, that was colder than a well-digger's arse out there. Never thought something could be that damn cold!"
Seeing Groog's antics, he says, "Ah'm right sorry, pardner, but that thar fella ain't gonna wake up. He's deader than those doorknobs that Bonnie Wil is always talking to."
After warming himself up a bit, he pokes through the loot and says "That chain shirt looks a good bit finer than mine, I figure. Look at that handiwork! Dahlia, do you know that spell that makes things new an' shiny? I don't really relish the thought of wearin' somethin' another fella died in."
As the group moves down the next corridor, they come to a much larger room. The ceiling of this vast chamber rises nearly thirty feet overhead, and a five-foot-wide ledge runs along the western wall, sloping down to the cave floor ten feet below. Four ramshackle huts made of what appear to be strips of strange metal, hides, and some sort of fibrous plant matter sit in the cave, whiel to the south yawns a deep, dark pit.
As Vallan enters the cavern, a being comes out of hiding in the middle of the cavern and addresses him. The strange female humanoid is stark naked save for a few bits of leather here and there where she carries a few daggers and a shortsword. Two more of the same beings emerge from hiding on either side of the group about fifteen feet away; one male, one female, both are just as naked as the other, and both carry weapons, but none of the three attack.
The middle speaks in a broken Common tongue to the group. ”Give offer; Half of group come with I to speak to leader, other half stay. Cause no trouble. Want no fighting, no more death. Agree? If not agree, die.”
Groog still carries his new friend Frosty with them, didn't want him to be lonely.
Then, he sees the new people. Naked people.
Groog didn't know what they were saying, spoke too good for Groog.
Groog didn't want to be rude, so he slowly starts to edge forward, Frosty in tow. He wanted to introduce them...
Hoots hollers,
He then turns to his companions in a whisper. "Hmmm, I'm nervous about this whole dividing up thing. Bonnie Wil or Dahlia, do you reckon either of you can persuade these folks to let us all come together?"
As an afterthought he says, "Groog, you stay with me for now. Hold my hand. And don't talk to them."
Ignoring the creatures completely, Bonnie takes a couple of listless steps towards the pit. He stops short and begins muttering to himself as he often does. "What? You're mumblin'. I can't. . . What? How many? How long ago?"
Suddenly, Wil snaps his head in the direction of the mostly naked creatures, his face taking on a sympathetic tone. "Of course we'll go with you. I'm sorry for your loss."
At Hoots' request, Wil looks confused, then says "They've been through a lot. I can ask, but they're just considering their own safety."
Groog wonders how he is to hold Hoots' hand while carrying Frosty. He thinks for a ponderous few seconds, then, a look of realization sets in. He shifts his grip to what appears to be a chokehold on the frozen body, only for the rear, holding the cadaver so that it is facing forward.
He then happily takes Hoots' hand as the pair walk forward, a silly grin on his tusked face.
"We would like to help you. Is there any way we might all be allowed to come along? I understand your hesitance, but we also worry about the safety of our little community. Let us help you."
Getting a bad feeling, Hoots whispers "Pssst! Dahlia! Can you see about persuading them too?"
”Not trust you, Face-with-Hair. Others come, speak sweet words, then kill. Group kill them back. Then other group come, kill leader. Group leaves after kill leader, then come back. We hide. Not trust anymore. Half speak to leader, half stay, or all die.”
"Please, we don't wish you any harm anymore than you wish to fight; But we would rather stick together. Perhaps is there a way-” Dahlia is cut off before she can finish speaking.
”No! No sweet words again! Like last people! Tired of speaking! Die!”
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12.5
14.5
Wil steps in front of them and braces an arm behind the safety of his shield. "No! Don't kill them! Subdue if you must, but they are necessary to maintain the larger whole!"
Groog hears their threat, and drops his friend Frosty to protect him.
"You no hurt Hoots! No hurt Frosty!"
He then charges the one to the right, trying to cleave it in half.
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Hoots, still woosy from the cold, nonetheless steps forward and aims his pistol at the one to his left.
He gets in a clean shot, hitting her in the belly but leaving her standing, as the gun's report echoes through the chamber. "Ah guess even after that terrible chill, Ah'm still a straight shooter, he smiles.
"Gladly!" Vallan retorts. Irascible varmints! Stubborn, but at least they want tae fight. Time tae show them why that was a mistake. The faster than normal dwarf moves past Hoots, and out onto the ledge towards the nearest humanoid. He takes a swing at the naked creature, hoping to drop it before it can harm him or his mates.
Wil steps in front of them and braces an arm behind the safety of his shield. "No! Don't kill them! Subdue if you must, but they are necessary to maintain the larger whole!"
Hoots, still woosy from the cold, nonetheless steps forward and aims his pistol at the one to his left.
He gets in a clean shot, hitting her in the belly but leaving her standing, as the gun's report echoes through the chamber. "Ah guess even after that terrible chill, Ah'm still a straight shooter,” he smiles.
Groog hears their threat, and drops his friend Frosty to protect him.
"You no hurt Hoots! No hurt Frosty!"
He then charges the one to the right, cleaving the humanoid in half.
"Gladly!" Vallan retorts. Irascible varmints! Stubborn, but at least they want tae fight. Time tae show them why that was a mistake. The faster than normal dwarf moves past Hoots, and out onto the ledge towards the nearest humanoid. He takes a swing at the naked creature, hoping to drop it before it can harm him or his mates.
”Sick ‘em, Snow!” Dahlia remains behind, not wanting to get in the fray while the others slaughter the enemy, but she sics Snow after the one who threatened them. The tiger does as she’s bid and moves past the group and leaps at the middle humanoid; However majestic her jump, Snow failed her landing and falls in a tangled heap at the humanoid’s feet.
The humanoid that Vallan had attacked retreats from the angry dwarf, pulls out one of his daggers, and throws it at Vallan, slicing him across the cheek; Overall, though, all it did was to make the dwarf want to kill him more.
The second humanoid, meanwhile, draws her shortsword and attempts to skewer Snow, somehow failing in the process.
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Groog doesn't stop after cleaving the first one down. He charges onto the one on the lower level, attempting to continue his spree.
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Vallan winces as the dagger slices across his cheek. He follows the strange humanoid, drawing on the power of Gorum to make sure he hits. Taking prisoners sounds boring, he thinks as he slices the grey man's head clean off.
Groog doesn't stop after cleaving the first one down. He charges onto the one on the lower level, attempting to continue his spree. He leaps off the ledge, landing gracefully and doing a quick roll, before running over to the one next to snow and hacking at her with his axe, nearly dropping her.
Vallan winces as the dagger slices across his cheek. He follows the strange humanoid, drawing on the power of Gorum to make sure he hits. Taking prisoners sounds boring, he thinks as he tries to slice the grey man's head clean off.
Snow gets up from the mangled heap she was in, allowing the near-dead grey-woman to get her last attack in. She misses and, due to the exertion, falls over unconscious.
Bonnie, wanting to take them alive, moves over to the first one they had downed and tries to patch her up, but fails to do so.
Without any warning, another grey humanoid appears from behind one of the huts and chucks a dagger at Groog, thankfully doing no damage as it chinks off his armor. The woman swears under her breath and disappears behind the hut, making no noise as she does so.
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Vallan curses as he sees another of the humanoids. "Prisoner's'll have tae wait, Bonnie-lad!" he says, tearing off at a surprisingly quick pace after the newcomer. Ye kinnae escape the wrath o' Gorum, coward!
"Paranoia is an awful thing to die for." Wil says sadly, hefting his morningstar in earnest as he stalks across the ledge to slide carefully down to the landing beneath.
"Our hands set to foul work, but forced thus it is not our hands at fault. I'm sorry--I tried." The last statement seems directed at the gaping pit to the south that the madman has no actual sight of.
Groog whirls his head around in the direction the knife was thrown from, looking for it's previous owner.
Groog takes off running straight for the hut the dagger came from, and barrels straight through the side wall of the flimsy building, tearing into it's interior with his full girth.
"Silly hut throw stabby! Groog break silly hut!"
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"Watch out, Groog. There was a person behind that hut who threw the dagger."
Hoots levels his pistol at the last spot he saw the knife thrower, ready to fire if she reappears.
Vallan curses as he sees another of the humanoids. "Prisoner's'll have tae wait, Bonnie-lad!" he says, tearing off at a surprisingly quick pace after the newcomer. Ye kinnae escape the wrath o' Gorum, coward!
"Paranoia is an awful thing to die for." Wil says sadly, hefting his morningstar in earnest as he stalks across the ledge to slide carefully down to the landing beneath.
"Our hands set to foul work, but forced thus it is not our hands at fault. I'm sorry--I tried." The last statement seems directed at the gaping pit to the south that the madman has no actual sight of.
Groog whirls his head around in the direction the knife was thrown from, looking for it's previous owner.
Groog takes off running straight for the hut the dagger came from, and barrels straight through the side wall of the flimsy building, tearing into it's interior with his full girth.
"Silly hut throw stabby! Groog break silly hut!"
"Watch out, Groog. There was a person behind that hut who threw the dagger."
Hoots levels his pistol at the last spot he saw the knife thrower, ready to fire if she reappears.
Out of no where, a dagger flies by Bonnie’s head. To him, however, he hears nothing but the screams of a poor weapon calling out for love and affection as it flies by his head and lands in the dirt to the south. It goes quiet as it lands, and Bonnie hears no more from it.
The woman appears briefly to the north in a cramped cavern and again swears after she misses. Like before, she disappears around the corner, and the group hears nothing from her.
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"Raaaarrgghh!" Vallan roars, chasing after the elusive woman. "Quit chuckin' yer damned knives, woman!" He enters the tunnel after the woman, only to find a dizzying intersection. Son of a....I'll wait 'ere for her to shoe her face again.
Groog emerges from his latest victim, the hut, and charges off with Dorf, assuming he is after another one of the grey skinned things. At the end of the tunnel he stops and looks around frantically.
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Hoots -- annoyed that their assailant is hiding so effectively -- walks along the ledge to the next opening. He looks around him in all directions, ready to shoot the first foe he sees.