Scrambling but keeping his feet, Duncan gets behind the dwarf and away from the creeping mud.
He hears the half-elf and doesn't know where to go, "Which rock plug? This whole place is made of rock."
--------------
Hearing Jibril's warning about the grick, Quinn decides that that was a creature she could fight against instead of the shapeless mud. She quickly moves towards where Khaddar had trapped the grue and waited for the rock to come free so that she could stab it.
"Which rock plug? This whole place is made of rock."
Jibril's bow is drawn and waiting for the grick to appear - "Follow the point of my arrow."
Khaddar is amazingly unphased by the sucking mud creature. His friends have his back and he just grins ferally, looking not a shade different from Elia for a moment as he braces one cleat up against the stone wall as hands grip him from all sides... and they all HEAVE together. With a sound precisely like pulling an arm out of a sloppy mud monster the whole knot of adventurers steps back as one, and friends scatter like marbles towards the center of the cave, while he makes a fierce, two-handed slap against the heap of mudpie.
Both hands connect with astounding force, and a ripple waves through the creature as the kinetic energy of the blow flows through the whole thing at once in a visible wash. An instant's hesitation considers pushing the thing into the water to see if a heap of mud is soluble, but instead he claps his hands sharply and steps back and away, skirting the edge of the stalactite to bait the (presumably stupid) mud-puddle into a more advantageous position between he and the huntress.
The non-weapon-wielding members of Team Orra continued the fight against the animate mud. Elia tears into it with tooth and claws, and it rears back, raining mud splatters like blood. In what looks like an attempt to escape the savage witchwolf, it turns towards Khaddar again. Rising up into an almost humanoid-like form, it strikes out with an almost arm-shaped appendage, striking at Khaddar. However, the dwarf was ready for the attack, and stepped easily aside.
As Khaddar watched the thing move, he realized it was acting less like an ooze, and more like...an elemental.
Meanwhile, on the east side of the cave, the stone plug finally was pushed free of the burrow, followed immediately by the undulating grue. Quinn, Duncan and Jibril were ready, and projectiles flew towards the creature, and a knife stabbed down from the side, surprising it. Duncan's bolt flew wide, but Jibril and Quinn struck true. Slimy, oozing blood began to leak from the creature. However, it was too slow to react.
With finally a target to focus his crossbow on, the young man loaded and fired at the ooze/elemental creature.
"Watch yourself, Khaddar. Keep away or we'll have to pull you out again."
to hit is -4 if firing into melee
critical?
HP 27/27
AC 16, touch 12, flat-footed 14
Conditions: n/a
Melee: dagger +2, 1d4, 19-20, x2, 10’, P/S
Ranged: MW light crossbow +5, 1d8, 19-20, x2, 80’, P
Deadly aim -1 to hit / +2 damage
Spells: 4/4 1st level and 2/2 2nd level; 6/8 Summon monster
There was a break in the fighting where Khaddar was creeping up on the muddy pit, and where Jibril took a ride on a tentacle, came up with a stone, and Elia had time to wash him and the stone off, and he started to be dried by the fire dude. I figured that had to be a few minutes.
EDIT - are you firing at the mud elemental or the grick?
Emboldened by her initial success, Quinn continues to harry the grue with her blade while keeping herself behind the creature as best to avoid its hooked jaws.
As Quinn repositions herself to strike, an arrow from Jibril's direction flies towards her and she has to abandon her attack or be impaled by his projectile.
Oh no, Quinn has stepped in it's path Jibril rushes left weaving through tall stone fangs while loading another arrow - when he comes along the broad side of the grick he fires.
Everything seems to come together. He clears a lime pillar, hits his stance quickly,
lightly exhales, and looses the arrow. It flies neatly into it's target.
There was a break in the fighting where Khaddar was creeping up on the muddy pit, and where Jibril took a ride on a tentacle, came up with a stone, and Elia had time to wash him and the stone off, and he started to be dried by the fire dude. I figured that had to be a few minutes.
EDIT - are you firing at the mud elemental or the grick?
OK, fair enough.
I shot the mud elemental this round.
Even an elemental that -looks- like an ooze is a rough critter to follow, but he has some chances against it... It may not be trippable, and it may not be much in the way of grappleable, and it may not have eyes to blind but...
No actually that's pretty much the extent of his bag of tricks. He could shove the thing into the water, but at this point it's better off just wailing on it as hard as he can!
Duncan's bolt struck true, sliding almost completely into the mud. Elia didn't hesitate to tear into the mud creature a second time, and though it would be some time before she got the taste out of her mouth, she practically tore the creature apart. There was little left for Khaddar to attack, so he stomped the last few writhing puddles into submission.
Meanwhile, Quinn's dagger slid off the strangely rubbery hide of the grue. Jibril waited with typical elven patience until the creature turned his way, then released the Ashtoe arrow. The enchanted arrow flew true, straight past the waving tentacles, and down the beast's throat. Making a strange, strangled noise, not unlike a cat coughing up a hairball, the grue's body spasmed once, then collapsed in a heavy heap nearly on Quinn's feat.
Jibril stands quietly for a moment and catches his breath. He looks to the grick and then to Quinn and smiles at her. It's pride, like the two just shifted a boulder together. He walks over to the dead worm and tries to recover the arrow embedded in it ... then he pulls out his gandasa and hacks at the mouth looking for the other in it's throat
Quinn gets excited for a moment as the grick goes down with the combined efforts of Jibril and herself. She begins to chant in celebration, "Go Starling, it's your birthday" And then she grins at the half-elf and gives him a verse, "Go Jibril, it's your birthday."
As she chants to herself, she moves over to where the grick originally emerged from and searched around the opening.
Quinn doesn't see anything near the opening of the burrow. With the light of her wobbly ioun torch, she can see...something...deeper into the burrow. Somebody will need to wiggle in on their belly - through the slime - to get to it.
Jibril is able to release one of the enchanted arrows from the side of the grue, but it is clear that whatever magic it once held, it is now spent. The arrow seems rough and ragged, even more so than a regular arrow would be. Retrieving the other used arrows would likely be a waste of time (except, perhaps, the one that missed).
"What a shot!"
He immediately looked for the spy eye, "Did you all see that?"
"Yep, one less mud monster. Is that all?"
He looked straight at the spy eye, "Are we done here?"
tag?
Duncan neared the slime hole and shown his light to the area, "Er, I'm not getting myself dirty."
"Ach, get outta me way..." Khaddar rolls his eyes and elbows past, then vaults himself up and into the hole. Darkvision is a blessing, but any sense of smell is a curse as he slithers through the slime-slick burrow of the Grue and into the dark recess.\
"Go Jibril, it's your birthday."
As she chants to herself, she moves over to where the grick originally emerged from and searched around the opening.
Jibril, burnt-slammed-damp, giggles as Quinn chants - it's a goofy teenager's self-conscious giggle. He's still smiling when he looks at the 'dull' arrow Un-glamoured but somehow still beautiful, not unlike me he ties it to the side of his quiver - an arrow of last resort "If you see an arrow in there, Quinn, please I'd love it returned. That last shot ... the arrow seemd very 'keen'." Jibril goes about removing six of the grick's teeth and puts them in with his few coins and extra arrow heads. He occasionally glances over at Khaddar with a little concern.
"We should move the carcass closer to the aquifer. The tentacle may come searching again. Let us not give it an excuse to find us. Then we should rest a bit." Another quick look of concern at Khaddar.
Quinn raises an eyebrow as Khaddar launches himself into the grick's hole. "I'd love to take a look for your arrow, Jibril, but it looks like Khaddar is going to look for it instead."
Considering Khaddar was searching inside the grue's burrow, Quinn decides to help Jibril with the carcass. They drag it towards the water and then she moves over to where the mud elemental had been and searches the area.
Khaddar belly-crawls into the burrow, and is rewarded with a fourth tile. He also finds the arrow that Jibril had fired into the burrow. It seems in decent shape. Quinn easily finds the last tile in the shallow pit where the mud elemental had hidden itself.
The body of the grue proves very difficult to move - it is heavy, and extremely slippery. Team Orra has to content themselves with retreating to the north end of the cavern, in the hopes that any grasping tentacles will find the grue, and not them.
Everybody is alive, although some of the Orra are pretty well beaten.
With their five tiles (though one is broken), they now must decide what to do. There was no other exit from this place, save perhaps underwater.
Quinn begins to collect the stones. "We should take them with us just in case we can trade with other teams later on. If we can only leave with one tile like last time, then we choose the one that Jibril said belongs to the one we already have."
The rogue takes stock of the health of the group. "It looks like we should find a place to rest. In previous years there was a place where you could rest. We just need to find it."
"If everyone is good to go, then we should try to exit the way we came in. If that doesn't work, we'll have to find a different way out."
With the danger finally abated, Elia pulls out her slender holly branch and sets to work, calling a soft green light over her wounds that indwells her with a rush of energy (and a sudden sense of vertigo, as she gets a momentary feeling of growing several feet in a moment's space). Her own wounds seen to, she moves to Ifanna, then to Khaddar, closing the worst of their injuries. You're right - it's time to rest, she chimes in at Quinn's comments. Going back the way we came seems too easy, but unless someone wants to go for a swim, it's about the only choice I see.
Handing the arrow out behind him, Khaddar shouts into the dark recess "Here! Take this! Take it!" while flailing the arrow against his upturned rear like a riding crop. It's probably less funny to him, face-forward in a slimy grick den than it is for those watching him. Once the arrow is taken out of his hand, however, he hooks the tile and scoochies out backwards, finally dropping down to the floor of the cavern to offer up the thing to the party.
He was even about to take his icky self over to the other hole to get the remaining tile to chip in, but Quinn beats him to it! Hopefully most of the horrible mud came out to -kill him- and didn't leave much more than a thin paste for her to feel through on that side. "I'd greaaaatly appreciate that rain spell ye do, lass..." he grouses aside at Ifanna, slathered in who knows what and smelling like the underside of a Grue.
The healing magic that washes over him leave him in fine trim, and even blows away the fatigue that had hit him when the went through the frigid sphere of icy death at the cold door, almost ready to simply continue on again... But there's some call to rest, and he nods, taking stock of himself and his gear and his resources.
"Aye, alright. We've made good progress for a day..." he wrings out his gi, wicking dirty water out onto the floor. It's so hard to get clean in this place. "Do ye want tae camp at an intersection in the hall, or do we camp here in the cave? We'll like want tae set a cursory watch as wael. If Jibril takes yer first watch fer three hour, and Quinn yer second, I'll take the third, and oor casters can the last. That'll give us all a solid nine hours rest with Quinn and I takin the rough rounds. We could make a small fire here in the lee and be able tae keep an eye on the door, and heat oor grits and cheeses."
A moment's observation and the Dwarf also instantly agrees with Jibril, patting the elf on the back "Aye, those two tiles clearly go taegether. That's oor key."
Handing the arrow out behind him, Khaddar shouts into the dark recess "Here! Take this! Take it!"
Jibril runs to Khaddar and grabs the arrow - again with his nervous laugh at the dwarven spectacle.
"Aye, those two tiles clearly go taegether. That's oor key."
Jibril smiles at Khaddar greatfully ... then stares ... a little too long ...
"Please, hold still a moment Khaddar. I think you may have some lingering mold about you ... Jibril pulls out his healer's kit and goes over his father's notes I think you might have some form of fungal rot. I do have an unguent ... ah, here. Jibril produces a waxed paper envelope and opens it to show an off white cream. A paste made from the plant 'soft-truth' or 'green-truth' depending on how you interpret old common. Apply it liberally tonight and tomorrow and it should help."
Jibril sits quietly a moment and bandages himself - even after the wand's magic he has some healing to do.
Jibril puts away his healing kit, and Team Orra contemplates on their next step. They don't get very far in their discussions before a cloud of dust suddenly rains down on their heads. It quickly settles, but a moment later, they all feel a faint vibration from the ground under their feet. Again, dust and earth shakes loose and sprinkles down upon them. If the tremors continue, it could get quite dangerous in here.
The dwarf perks up instantly. "That's oor sign tae carry on. No restin here. Tha's a tectea, a earth-shiver. Likely forced tae communicate wi' us, but we're better safe than sorry, aye? A narry passage like oors could snap shut like clappin' hands."
I agree with Khaddar. I don't particularly want this entire cavern for a blanket. Elia's already turning for the path to the door as she replies. Maybe we can rest in the tunnels between the doors - only hazard there's like to be other players. Which is enough of a worry, but it's the safest spot we'll get otherwise.
I don't particularly want this entire cavern for a blanket.
Jibril smells the fresh earth and shoves the two particular tiles in his backpack "Let's discuss the merits of where we will sleep outside." and not bothering to tie the sack to his ankle again he opts to push it in front of him. As soon as he reaches the crawl space he loads his backpack and rushes to get out. He will wait in the hall, guard their escape from any competitors and make ready to help others with their things as they reach the end.
Quinn heads for the only door she knows of. "I agree, it's time to go."
"As for where to rest, I believe there's a place inside the Game that would be a fairly safe place to rest. In previous years it was near the market which we haven't come across yet."
Duncan was already at the exit; he seemed even willing to go first time.
He remembered having to wait behind the slower ones of the team and wondering - out loud - whether they had arrived or not.
"C'mon, what are we waiting for? Khaddar, you take the longest so you go first. And hurry!"
Are you guys leaving the other 4 tiles behind?
Khaddar glowers at Duncan and slaps one of the tiles into his chest as he comes by. They were getting heavy anyhow. "Aye. Ye should carry this then. Clearly slowin me doon... Thanks fer the help!" he mutters dwarven idioms about grit in the grindstone and sand in the forge as he clankily (crankily?) stomps his way out to join Jibril in the hall. These tiles will soon get quite cumbersome for their party of middling strength; they'll have to triage tiles as they go!
With the cavern continuing to occasionally shake, team Orra made their way back through the claustrophobic cavern on their hands and knees. In the lead, Khaddar arrived at the cavern's end to find the door firmly closed, and he was unable to pull it open.
Quinn had half expected that, and she retreated back into the cavern and unloaded the other four tiles. Leaving them behind, she rejoined the others. As she caught up to them, Khaddar found the door swinging open on its own. In a matter of minutes, Team Orra was back in the main corridor, shaking dust and filth from their hair and clothes.
A moment later, the door opposite them, the one with the fire sigil upon it, was thrown open, and a wave of intense heat washes over them. A burly man held the door open while screaming, "Come on! Come on!" Hot on his heels were the rest of his team; a mixed group of races and genders, the only thing they had in common was that they were covered head to toe in soot and ash. They tumbled out of the fire door, two of them ending up in a heap in the corridor. As the last one ran through the door, the man swung it shut again, cutting off the intense heat from inside.
The smallest, and the last through the door, was carrying a heavy tile in her arms, she collapsed at Quinn and Elia's feet, her cloak and clothes flaming, coughing and crying, "Help!"
Before she even has a chance to think, Elia raises a hand over the newcomer, forgetting for the moment the fearsome claws upon it and the effect the posture might have upon onlookers. She half-barks a word of power, and a downpour of water gushes from her fingertips to douse the flames. It's only after the altruistic act that she remembers these people are her competitors, maybe even enemies in some players' eyes. Few would blame her for letting this team grow weaker...but as soon as the grim thought crosses her mind, she dismisses it. I'm far enough off human already. I won't let competition pull me even further away.
Jibril's face is placid "Are you hurt little one? Are you burnt? A game is a game but Jibril will not see someone hurt. He glances up at Elia greatful that she is not letting the game turn this situation into a compassionless one "Will you allow me to see?"
He looks at his healing supplies ... Only enough for another two serious wounds and so many tiles left to find ... and carefully packs them away.
Quinn appreciates the fact that the others want to help the other team but the rogue also knows that the other team may not be so altruistic. She keeps a protective watch over her own team as they interact with the others. Even though she has no weapon drawn, she's just a wrist-flick away of having a dagger in her hand.
Duncan neared the men and women from the fire door, "So I guess it was hot in there? Any weird creature or traps that you can tell us about? How about we trade info?"
He then conferred with his team, "Can we go through a door that's already been used? Is trading info allowed?"
Even as Elia summons the water to douse her competition, a soot-stained dwarf is making his way over to the victim. As the water washes away the worst of the ash, they see that a very young looking gnome is pushing himself to his knees, still coughing. Most of his hair is gone, along with the clothes on his back, and he is covered with angry red and black burns. Despite all that happened in the last few moments, he still has a death grip on his tile.
The others on the team are the human man who held open the door, who is now leaning against the relative cool stone wall, hands on his knees, breathing deeply of the cool air. He eyes Team Orra with caution, and his hand is not far from the hilt of the axe at his side.
Beside him a young hale-elf, her long red hair scorched and stinking, is patting a few rogue embers on her clothes.
The third member is the tallest, and the hardest to make out. Her figure is feminine, but she is hooded and cloaked. She seems the least singed. She stands next to the half-elf, preternaturally still.
A dwarf in full plate rounds out the party. As Jibril makes his way to the gnome's side, pulling out his healer's kit, the dwarf roughly pushes Jibril aside. Putting his hands gently on the gnome's blistered shoulders, he says, "Blessed Beya, I call upon you to mend this brave soul's burns, that he may continue to serve your mysterious will."
Before their eyes, the burns fade away to faint pink scars, and the gnome sighs in relief. "My thanks, Sir Caryl. I thought that was the end of me, for certain."
The gnome allows Caryl to pull him to his feet, then turns to Jibril and Elia. "Thanks for your help. That was a near thing. Don't go in there unless you're ready for it."
At Duncan's question, the human finally pushes himself upright and barks a laugh. "Hot! The door's hot, mate. What's behind the door makes my granddad's forge look cozy, like a hot water bottle." Glancing at the dirt falling off them, he added, "Made it through earth, didya? We started there. How'd ya like that decapus? I took off two of his tentacles my own self." He patted the head of his axe. "Where you headin' next? Not here, I trust."
Pushed out of the way, Jibril gives 'Sir Caryl' a flash with his eyes from behind ... yes, of course, why should you be different ... he looks at his own team and remembers how they all fought to get him free of the fungus.
Jibril's eyes dart rapidly over the gnome as Sir Carly prays - what kinds of wounds are these? Surely not from ambient heat - a direct application of flame? Like torch flame (streaked burn with messy black charring on one side), a lava burn (very red clean edged burn), or liquid flame ... like naplam (melted fabric and flesh)?
Jibril makes some attempt not to meet the gaze of the other half-elf. He's not sure why ... her just being here seems to put his lack of confidence about his heritage into the forefront.
"How'd ya like that decapus? I took off two of his tentacles my own self."
Jibril's face is flat, emotionless and unimpressed "A Decampus? Of course a decampus. They are known to be dark hearted malicious creatures ... no, we didn't remove any of it's tentacles." Jibril spends a little time second guessing his 'ride' on the slurk's corpse.
"Clever enough tae know how tae avoid stickin oor heads aneath the water, aye!" Khaddar crows triumphantly "Spider went up in a puff a bad air, and we fed the Slurk tae the long-arms under shore, which kept it busy while we ransacked mud and Grue fer oor key. No lookin forward tae -that- door though! I've precious little beard yet as et is!" Unarmed and unarmored, Khaddar is a far cry from the dwarven archetype that Caryl represents, and his walking to slap the war-priest on the back heartily doesn't do anything but emphasize those wild differences.
"We were aboot tae pitch camp oorselves in this hallway unless any o' ye hae seen one a them campsites we could make use a'? If no, ye seem the like tae be ideal camp-mates fer oorsaels. What say ye?"
From his position nearby, Jibril examines the gnome's burns. He seems to have been burned by direct flame. The clothes are burned cleanly, the edges charred.
The half-elf laughed at Khaddar's description of their trials. "Did you blow up the spider? Urlion here spotted that trap, so we left it alone. Just grabbed the tile from behind it, easy as you please. No wonder some of you look a bit scorched. Still, not bad compared to here. If you go for this door, make sure you keep..Aagh!" She clutched the back of her left hand with her right, holding it to her chest. "OW! Holy Bela, that hurts!"
The gnome shook his head, still gripping the tile tightly. "Told you, Hareg. Can't give away hints. The tattoo will stop you."
Looking back to Khaddar, he then said, "If you're looking to rest, best go up top, there'll be a place here. If you try to do it here, you'll just get interrupted by other teams stepping over you. I'm not exactly sure, but if you go up the stai...Ow!" He too clutched his hand. After a moment he shook it out, turned to the nearest spy eye and said angrily, "That wasn't even cheating! Not fair!"
Smiling, the dwarf said, "Anyway, we're going to look for the stairs up now. Won't ask if you know where they are, but we'll walk with ya." As he started to walk in the direction of the cold door, he said, "So, I'm Caryl, oft-called The Swift, leader of this merry little band of misfits. Who might you all be?"
The sigil tattoo isn't just a warning, it's a trammel ... an animal's collar Staring at the back of his hand and deep in thought, Jibril mutters to himself ...the 'Just' make the best leashes... he looks up at everyone, friend and competitor, trying to 'read the room' only to decide he can't. He is the half-elf of yesterday morning, quiet and unforthcoming. He combs his hair over his forehead with his gloved hand and then he moves in whatever direction gives Duncan the best space to move forward.
Duncan looked for the spy-eye before extending his hand, "I am Duncan Clayton the Third and this is Team Orra."
He looked at the man's hand, "So your hand tingles if you share information? I wonder if that extends to writing down information or speaking in other languages."
He nodded, "Why don't you try?"
Duncan looked for the spy-eye before extending his hand, "I am Duncan Clayton the Third and this is Team Orra."
He looked at the man's hand, "So your hand tingles if you share information? I wonder if that extends to writing down information or speaking in other languages."
He nodded, "Why don't you try?"
They began to make their way down the corridor. The human, who gave his name as Peter, said to Duncan, "Hey, that's a good idea! Ulfin, how about you give that a try?"
The gnome nodded, then spoke a few sentences in his native tongue. "Hey, that worked just fine! What other languages do you speak? How about you tell us something about your first room? Where did you start?"
Quinn remains slightly guarded as the group begins to move towards where they had seen the stairs. This group seemed a lot friendlier than the others but that didn't mean they could trust them.
When the others started sharing information in other languages, she was at a loss. "Sorry, I only speak common and I'm not in the mood for searing pain."
"Hey stop there!" Khaddar cries out, spreading his hands to the group. Clearly the gnomish goes right over his head, but those keen dwarven laser-eyes have spotted a thing. Still, chatting to each other in gibberish gnome-talk is a little brow-raising, and as trusting as Khaddar is, he's also sometimes a remarkable judge of character...
Nudging past, he becons to their own half-elf "You lot hae a tracker? Jibril! Come hae a look here, lad. This is blood, aye? And no oors. We were'nae hurt here." The dwarf has stopped at the foot of the Cold Door, and he points out flecks of blood stretching away towards the teleport chamber they came here through! "Summat comin' or goin', lad? Can ye make who or how many?"