"Combat? Above?" Nme'an asks quietly in reply.
The clicking speech from up ahead still remains muffled, and soft shuffling and scrapes persist.
A muffled gasp of pain tugs at the druidess’ memory, of when Olp fell into the pit trap of his kind, impaled by the spiked floor. If her keen ears are to be believed, the sneaking kobold is not alone ...and he might be injured.
"Ahead" points out Themp
"Olp might be in danger!" he adds, drawing his bow and moving just ahead of the group "Let's go!" he urges.
Mot growls and breaks into a trot. Light beaming from his body, he doesn't make much attempt at further subtly, merely treading lightly in the dirt.
When Mot, and those that follow him, round the corner, the light from the wild man shows the beginning of a larger room. To his right, a dim yellow haze, probably spores, hangs around a patch of brown, putrid-smelling mold that grows on the dirt floor and wall. The highlander’s glowing form illuminates another tunnel entrance also to his right, and the open space ahead remains dark.
The elf eyes of Nme’an and Beorae pierce the darkness a bit further, and see that the brown mold grows on the floors and walls along the edges of the room ahead. Clouds of spores float over mold that grows on the right side of the room. In addition to the tunnel entrance on the right, the half-elves also notice a smaller tunnel to the left. They do not yet see the far end of the open area.
The large room is still, and no vegepygmy can be seen.
“Definitely Olp,” she says as they round the corner. Drawing one of the Alchemist’s Flame bottles, Beorae readies it against attack. “After you, Mot.”
Mots pace quickens as he whispers back to the others. "Dinnae tha wee oone say there were threee oof tha blighters oout here?" His grip tightens as the scans the area trying to find something to kill.
Still unable to find Olp, Themp rushes up to cover Mot.
The grey tiger's nose catches the scent of vegepygmy down the nearby entrances to the left and right, but he sees no plantfolk.
Nme'an hurries forward keeping pace with the others.
Themp and Mot sneak further into the room. Behind them, the clanking steps of the paladin follow to the bend in the tunnel. Somewhere in the dark up ahead, beyond the clouds of spores, the scuffle continues. And then, another quiet grunt of pain, followed by a brief, muffled sound of collapse.
The highlander's ears pick up snatches of quieted click-speech of the vegepygmy. The whispered exchange is to his right, somewhere in the tunnel choked with fungal growth. But the edge of his light does not reach far enough for him to see inside.
Utter silence spreads across the warren. Wherever the gnomish tribe might be above ground, their leader has not yet sounded the horn.
With his sword glowing bright, Nme'an rushes forward in search of Olp.
Beorae casts Guidance on Shark and sends the cat up to follow Nme’an.
The knight apprentice plunges into the yellowy cloud, followed closely by the grey tiger. His light reveals the end of the room to the men, but along the way, their passage kicks up more spores. When Nme’an comes to a stop, he sees a vegepygmy warrior creeping through the tunnel to his left. The little plant man clicks menacingly and starts to move in to attack.
The sighted vegepygmy charges in, and its beats and clicks carry through the warren tunnels, raising alarm. Other snaps and taps from all around voice a response.
Even though the plant man got the jump on the paladin, its spear dings harmlessly against his thick armor. Two more of the plantfolk round the corner on the right. They leap for the knight, brandishing their spears.
But neither spearheads find an opening in the knight’s heavy plate armor.
A fourth vegepygmy appears in the tunnel entrance behind the highlander, to the left Themp and Beorae. Without hesitation, it hurls a spear at the druidess.
The crude weapon pierces Beorae’s side!
The gnome bounds forward, to the edge of the cloud of spores, stopping right in front of the Casns. “Nmeyan! Grey tiger!” he calls ahead, “Clear a path! My rooms are to your right! We need to get the alcohol before the chieftain finds us.”
He crouches, his little gnome muscles tense and ready to sprint through the nasty yellow clouds.
The sensation of a thousand little knives stabbing an internal path down his nose, throat and lungs, greats Nme'an as he passes into the dim cloud clinging to the walls. The urge to cough and gag is almost overwhelming, but instead the Knight Apprentice grips this sword crushingly tight and attacks the enemy directly in front of him..
for
As the clicking sounds surround them, Themp notices the spear striking Beorae. A quick glance at Nme'an's direction reveals a thick cloud of spores, obscuring details of the melee ahead.
"Mot, give the knight a hand! Don't breathe too deep, though..." he shouts, drawing an arrow and aiming at the closest plant creature.
The tiger grunts and wheezes as he inhales a cloud of spores. Shark sees the threat ahead, though, and takes a step forward before lunging at his target.
---
Beorae can’t help but let loose a small yelp of pain when the crude spear pierces her light armor. Before she can even turn to hurl a dagger at her attacker, Themp looses his arrow. She quickly attempts to asses her injury.
Gritting his teeth the Highland barbarian dashes forward, nimbly dodging between the armored paladin and little bundle of fury that is Shark. His lungs fill with the spore cloud as he does so.
But with his pipers powerful bellows he spews the befouled air out and back into the cave with a defiant roar! Spinning on one leg in an attempt to dodge the attack from the fungal warrior Mot prepares to bring his own blade to bear.
With a stomp he lands next to foe and brings his greatsword whistling down on the strange being.
Themp’s arrow pierces the midsection of the little plant man, but is scarcely notices as it charges in with bared claws. Nme’an cuts down the vegepygmy in front of him, as the highlander spins to stand in the other tunnel. His quick movements avoid attack from the fungus folk, but kicks up clouds of spores along the way. Shark tears the vegepygmy to shreds and Mot’s blade falls a moment too late, splatting into the planty pulp before the tiger. One plant man sees two of its kind fall and slinks back into the tunnel it came from.
Darkness suddenly covers half of the room before Themp can see the charging vegepygmy’s target, but the druidess manages to tend to her wounds in time to see her attacker barreling down on her.
While he can see Nme’an, Shark, and Mot make quick work of the plant folk thirty feet away, the sneak thief hears two pairs of running feet somewhere in the dark. Both of them close in from opposite directions!
Beorae suffers a scratch from a vegepygmy, and Themp feels a speartip poke his back, which was luckily protected by his studded leather armor. The light does not reach far enough to reveal Themp’s assailant, but the Sevenstone can see that another vegepygmy emerged from another tunnel to attack her roguish friend.
The gnome speeds through the cloud of spores, tumbles between Nme’an’s steel shod legs, and rounds the corner the vegepygmy retreated behind. “This... way...” he wheezes, the yellow spores coating his legs and chest.
Following after the gnome, the light reveals an immediate split in the tunnel, to the left and right. The gnome guide stands stock still just around the corner, turned to the right, wearing an uncertain expression.
Further down the tunnel, the vegepygmy stands over the fallen body of Olp. Yellow moldy patches and puncture wounds mar the kobold’s red scaly hide. Spearhead pointed down at the unconscious Olp and letting out a menacing hiss, the vegepygmy’s intent is unmistakable: it will drive the spear into Olp’s chest if the gnome and his allies take another step closer.
Mot sneezes mightily and his vision starts to blur from the strange fungal growths, but the warrior presses on at their ghomish companions behest. In a few short strides he's by his ally's side and glaring furiously down the tunnel. The light from his glowing body illuminating the scene before him.
The towering man spits as a dark look takes his face. In one quick movement his spear appears in hand and just as swiftly travels towards the foe full of murderous will!
Nme'an moves to follow the Gnome but stops short when he sees the vegepygmy standing over Olp.
Nme'an's face hardens and he lifts up his hand towards the evil creature, but not to plead for his companion's life. In an instant a bolt of fire streaks down the tunnel and strikes the vegepygmy squarely in the chest.
for
Wait, another?!
"Red? Lights, please?" Themp pleads, a subtle edge of uncertainty on his voice as he shifts his stance to better react to incoming threats.
The Casns spear skewers the vegepygmy, though the pointed weapon does not harm the little one as badly as the throw ought to. The stream of fire from Nme'an blackens the plant man's chest, though it seems less-burnt for all the conviction behind the holy flame.
Despite its resilience, the pierced and seared vegepygmy falls back, smoking, still, and lifeless. The gnome nods with an approving smile, pointing to the dark beyond Olp's body. "My lab is just down that way. I can see to the kobold's wounds if you two run ahead to grab the wood alcohol. They're stored in gourds. Do not drink it!"
With her low-light vision, Beorae doesn’t immediately notice the room dim when the Casans warrior charges into the other chamber. As the two attackers encroach on their position, she calls “Shark!”. In a moment, the gray tiger appears to Themp’s right with a growl and lunges at Themp’s attacker.
Meanwhile, Beorae reaches over her shoulder and draws her rarely-used scimitar. “Hang on…” In normal light, its curved design resembled a cat’s claw, a feature that she had always appreciated. In the dark, though, the weapon was nearly invisible, and she sliced the edge of the blade across her attacker’s chest with a silent but steady swing.
Shortly after the lights dim from Mot’s chase down another tunnel, the knight follows, and brings his glowing sword with him. In mid-swing, the druidess finds herself utter darkness, and she feels the curved blade cut nothing but air. Likewise, Shark’s prey remains just beyond the edge of the low light, and his sharp teeth snap at nothing.
One vegepygmy jabs its spear at the grey tiger, while the other slashes its claws at his master.
The spearhead weakly taps the tiger’s thick fur, and Beorae feels little claws scratch harmlessly against her leather armor.
The gnome pads ahead, tearing away strips of his animal hide tunic and cleaning Olp’s wounds. He hums softly as he produces a tiny bottle of ointment from a belt pouch, and applies it to the cuts and mold infestation.
The kobold twitches, but does not open his eyes yet. “The spores are rooted in deep,” says the gnome, “But he’s no longer on death’s door.” He resumes his humming chant while massaging the dragon flesh around the wounds.
The tunnel continues a short distance more until it opens into a small bedchamber. A gnome-sized mound of furs lay piled in one corner, and a little wooden table is flanked by little wooden chairs. Squares of wood, carved into detailed images of ferocious tigers, delicate jungle flowers, and a forested mountain range, decorate the earthen walls of the living space. Rolls of parchment lay in an organized stack on shelves above the table. A tiny clay pot with a handle grows a single, large mushroom, next to a small clay pitcher containing water.
To the left is an opening to a smaller room, the inside of which is lined with workbenches. The room itself possesses a faint, noxious odor, one that would sting the eyes and nose if it was any stronger. Wooden and clay instruments cover the working space, though it is clean and organized in its own fashion. Several clay canisters each separately labeled in gnomish lay underneath the workbench, undoubtedly storing raw materials for various concoctions. There are even a few glass vials among the laboratory equipment. In the corner lays a chest left open, containing a score of small gourds with stoppered tops. Upon closer inspection, the contents of the gourds are the source of the odd smell in this small room.
Mot sprints past the fallen Olp, following the Gnomes directions to the laboratory. Swiping his spear from where he planted it in the process. Nose sniffing the air, he easily spots the chest of weaponized beverages and moves towards it.
Beorae curses when the light dims to nothing and her sword fails to make contact. “Hang on…” She takes a step backward and casts a spell of Light into her scimitar. “Lumos!”
As light fills the room, Shark doesn’t skip a beat and lashes at the creature in front of him.
Nme'an moves forward to help just as Mot's glow winks out.
As soon as the room lights up with the glow of Beorae's sword, Themp notices he is flanked by two of the little creatures. In no time, he shuffles behind Shark and shoots at the farthest one.
The vegepygmy dodges Shark’s teeth, and his claws fail to pierce the tough planty hide. Themp’s arrow sails wide, sticking into the dirt wall a few feet behind his target. With an arrow already sticking through it, the vegepygmy closes in on Themp, but then pivots at the last moment to rake its claws into the tiger’s hindquarters.
Shark’s spear-wielding attacker sidesteps to a flanking position and stabs again!
Beorae’s furry companion bleeds from the spear and claws of the fungus folk.
Suddenly, the tribal leader’s horn sounds from the jungle floor above, followed by a roar of gnomish warcries. The vegepygmy fighting the tiger click an exchange, and beats and taps sound off from darker tunnels throughout the warren. Another vegepygmy emerges from the mold-choked passage south of Beorae and Themp, and the gnome tending to Olp stiffens when he sees another plant man stalk from the darkness behind them.
The gnome quickly slaps Olp on the snout, startling him awake. “Hurry!” he says to the tall folk, launching into a flying kick toward the vegepygmy.
The kick falls short, but the gnome plants his foot and wheels the other knee around into the vegepygmy torso.
Olp blinks as he regains his bearings, though his claws grope about the earth until they close around his spear. Bloodied and weakened by the spores, the kobold pushes himself to his feet with the butt of his spear and spits defiantly.
Running into the small laboratory Mot quickly scans the room and spots the crate of alcohol filled gourds. Sheathing his sword the big warrior makes ready to grab the crate and return to his companions.
Nme'an moves forward and takes an awkward swing at the vegepygmy in front of him.
for
Cursing, Themp tries again.
One vegepygmy defends itself against Nme’an’s blade. As Themp draws his bowstring, a nearby vegepygmy sees an opening and slashes out with claws.
But the archer stays of the plant man’s reach, and releases his arrow squarely into its chest. The impact causes the vegepygmy to waver a moment, but still it fights on, with two arrows sticking out of the tiny, tendriled body.
Now with the room lit enough for her to see, Beorae steps forward to her left, pinching the nearest veggie between Themp and herself. “We need to get moving, guys!,” she calls. As the creature shrugs off yet another of Themp’s arrows, she brings her sword down with as much force as she can muster and can’t help but grunt with the exertion.
“Those arrows aren’t doing anything, Themp!”
Meanwhile, Shark growls and takes another lunge at his prey .
The blade of the Sevenstone and the tiger’s claws bring low the two vegepygmy.
After a half-hearted jab with its spear, the plant man steps back from the gnome and the knight apprentice, using the narrow tunnels to cover its sides.
The newly emerged fungal stalker hurls a spear at the tiger, before running after it with claws raised.
Another follows right behind, running with a spearhead leveled at the striped beast.
The thrown spear pierces feline hide, and then Shark bats away the second attack.
The gnome skips forward, around the vegepygmy spear, and drives a little fist deep into the face of fungus. The adversary falls to a heap of tendriled plant matter.
Olp impatiently stamps his spear to the ground when he hears Beorae’s call. He watches the end of the tunnel, waiting for the highlander to return with the mold-killing spirits.
Mot blinks at the sudden darkness, but doesn't let it dissuade him from his task. Stooping he flails about in the area he knows the crate to lie. Once found the Highlander spins on his heels and attempts to frog march out of the laboratory.
Easily navigating the short area of darkness, Casns finds the lit tunnel and begins sprinting back to the main chamber, dodging past his compatriots as he does so.
"I think it best we regroup with the others so none of us is trapped alone by these spores," Nme'an says to his nearby companions. "Mot, Olp... Gnome..., I will remain here until you all pass through the cloud and will help you up if you might fall."
"This should help you make it back," Nme'an says to the Big Man as he lays a hand on Mot's shoulder.
She's right, they're barely flinching! Themp thinks to himself. He decides to stash his bow and draws his dagger, reverse-grip, for parrying.
“Some help in here would be great!” Beorae calls to the next room. Stepping forward, she takes a swing at the nearest veggie .
With a snarl, Shark turns on his attacker. .
Olp takes a gourd from the box in Mot’s arm as he passes. Testing its weight, the kobold hefts it until he sorts out a way to hold it for throwing. Listening to Nme’an’s order, he nods and leans his arm back to lob the gourd and clear a path ahead of the tall folk.
But it is a difficult throw when Mot’s head nearly scrapes the ceiling. The Casns feels a splorch against the back of his skull, and a burst of clear liquid trickles down his hair, shoulders, and back. The fumes stab at his eyes and nose, but before his nostril hairs are completely burned away, the big man detects a faint oak aroma from the spirit. His eyes begin to water. The gnome looks up at Mot with an uncertain and slightly worried expression.
Shark’s second swipe clobbers the vegepygmy, and it nearly falls. Wobbling, it takes a step back with claws upheld defensively. Beorae’s blade sings through the air as her foe dodges the slice, then retaliates.
But the druidess sees the incoming attack and parries it with ease.
Another vegepygmy tumbles out from the moldy tunnel, striding around the one backing away from Shark and taking its place. With a spear it stabs at the big grey cat.
Shark snarls and dodges the jab.
Yet one more vegepygmy leaves the fungus-coated tunnel. As it takes in the sight of the sneak thief, the beastmaster, and her beast, the posture of the wounded vegepygmy changes from defensive to cowering before the one that approaches. Still no larger than a child, this newcomer is more thickly draped in fungal tendrils from its head and shoulders, and its limbs bulge with chords of vines. The bigger vegepygmy carries no spear, but its long claws are as black as briar thorns, and more disturbingly, it clicks and snaps from an oversized maw lined with needlepoint teeth.
Presently, it regards the cowering vegepygmy with a sort of indifference before a sudden slash of its claws reduces the wounded one to shreds. The sharp movements of the bigger plant man send small puffs of yellow spores adrift from its form. The vegepygmy chieftain hisses menacingly at the man, half-elf, and tiger.
The gnome reaches up and takes a gourd, and beats his little feet along the ground toward Beorae and Themp, yellow spores dancing in his wake.
Muttering an apology to the big man, the kobold waits to follow the lead of the tall folk. He does not take another gourd.
Beorae takes a step backwards and quickly orders, “Cover me, Themp!” The druidess then starts her now-familiar chant and gentle, practiced hand movements with her free hand.
Shark once again attacks the veggie in front of him.
On Beorae's cue, Themp steps between her and the closest plant-folk, slashing at it with his dagger.
Mot stops short of the spore clouds just in time for the flask to hit him upside the head. Turning ready to lash out, Mot instead sees the sheepish look on the Kobolds face. Bursting into a huge grin he shouts, "Och, naow eets ae prooper pahrty!" That is until he hears Beoraes call for assistance. Grimacing against the strange, spore-y onslaught the Highlander takes a deep breath and plunges forward, racing towards Themp in the middle of the hall.
Reaching the sneaky-ones side he drops his spear and sticks a meaty hand into the crate for one of the flasks.
"I'll be right behind you," Nme'an says, his hand looking almost comically large as he gripps the Kobold's shoulder reassuringly.
One vegepygmy staggers under a savage claw from Shark, and the other suffers a slice from Themp's dagger. However, both remain standing.
Olp turns a grim face to the spore clouds and limps his way through them.
The blood of dragons shows its resilience as the kobold passes through without further injury.
Shark’s foe falters, about to run away with a series of beats and clicks from the chieftain turns the wounded vegepygmy back to the grey tiger. It desperately stabs at the mighty cat.
The one cut by Themp’s blade retaliates in kind.
Both spears fail to pierce the studded leather and thick tiger hide.
With a burst of speed, the bigger plant man darts to one side of the room, tucking into a somersault to catch Themp and Beorae unawares.
He springs up at the druidess’ side! But Themp’s quick eye and quicker hand see an opening in the chieftain’s roll. Not wasting momentum, the spinning tendriled chief lashes out wildly at one of the three in reach.
Thankfully, Olp was ready, and he deflects the sharp claws with the shaft of his spear. The sudden movements of the chieftain cause a small amount of spores to shake free of its body.
The gnome stops once he exits the dusty yellow cloud, though some of the spores appear to have taken root. He hurls the gourd of alcohol at one of the walls.
The container explodes against the mound of brown-yellow mold, which begins dissolving immediately. However, the spore clouds remain floating over the area.
Catching the chieftain's dash, Themp lashes out while it is still mid-run...
...fails to hit it.
Fast little bastard!
Worried about Beorae, Themp turns his back the smaller plant-folk and lashes out again at the chieftain.
With the rest of his companions safely on ahead, Nme'an takes a deep breath and plunges into the spore filled passage.
He catches sight of the battle up ahead and shouts out a warning to Themp.