Kerruk moves with careful deliberation across the piles, having no wish to emulate Tap's whimsical and risky progress.
Come now Kerruk, I know you can move faster than that!
Your turn Jack.
As Kerruk makes his way across the pilings, his footsteps slow and cautious, the surface of the bog ripples only slightly, and slimy green heads rise up at three locations, immediately rolling out long, red tongues, ready to lash them out at prey. The massive frogs look hungry!
Tap instantly catches the churning of bubbles as three giant frogs emerge below. I knew it was trouble.
Creepy Frogs. Stuck in Bogs. Go to Sleep. Sleepy Frogs.
Jack frowns, as he watches Kerruk makes his way slowly from piling to piling. We should have checked out the village more thoroughly. Jack sees Tap waving and pointing in Kerruk's direction, but sees nothing. What is that halfling going on about?
Two of the frogs lash out with astoundingly long tongues, easily 15 full feet from root to tip. They attempt to latch on to their human prey.
The third moves forward to do the same, though it is a bit too far away even for its mighty attack.
The first frog hits and attempts to wrap its tongue around Kerruk's torso. The second frog's lashing tongue misses its mark. It effectively wraps Kerruk up, and begins to pull on him.
Damn.
Jack swears, and draws his weapon. Retreat no longer seems likely. Into the thick of it.
Jack approaches Kerruk, hopping along one piling to another as carefully as he can.
Hop! Jack leaps gracefully from one piling to the next.
Hop! Jack smiles grimly, reminded of games he played in the docks in his youth.
Hop! Jack lands awkwardly, and waves his hands wildly for a moment, before regaining his balance. His long training saves him.
The frog blinks its odd, reptilian eyes quickly, making an odd, rapid sucking sound. It seems to shake off the effects of Tap's spell, and focuses back upon its grip as it tries to haul in its next meal.
Belliott jumps at the frogs
Belliott hack at frogs
Kerruk feels an icy calm descend on him as the disgusting wetness of the frog's massive tongue entangles him. He even manages a slightly manic laugh as he - somehow - performs the necessary gestures to release the sudden, cool power coursing in his veins.
The inhabitants of the bog attack first, two of them attempting to latch onto Kerruk, whom no doubt wpuld be quite the tasty meal. One misses, but the other latches on with its tongue, holding Kerruk fast.
Jack and Kerruk, caught off guard, can't put together an attack in the face of the vicious frogs. Belliott and Tap see the threat though, and they leap into action.
Tap casts a spell, but the frog holdong Kerruk seems unaffected. Belliott leaps into the water, making good time for about 15 feet before the going gets tough. The water gets much deeper here, and is about 4 feet near the frog, with another foot of sludge and muck into which Belliott's boots plunge.
Jack's strike cleaves the tongue of the frog in half. The part still attacked rolls back into the creature with a groaning, slurping sound.
Immediately, the frog attempts to swim away from its attackers, headed away from Belliott.
The other two frogs attack Kerruk, one having had to move into position.
One hits, once again latching onto Kerruk and readying to pull him in.
Tap runs forward, expertly hopping from one piling to the next, then fires two arrows at the frog whose tongue still has Kerruk entrapped.
Tap grins evilly at his monkey.
for the second attack:
Belliott slams down his axe, splitting the frog in half even as it turns to swim away. The pieces drift away and begin to sink in the bog. Seeing one enemy down, Belliott turns and slogs through the bog through the pilings, working hard to get to the next opponent.
Kerruk reaches up to grasp the frog's tongue, and the force of his spell shoots through the amphibian, freezing its skin. The frog shakes off most of the damage, though its eyes grow wild.
Tap dashes over the pilings, firing as he leaps. Two arrows thud into the slimy, bloated form of the frog holding Kerruk. It grunts, and green ichor seeps out from the wounds, but it still holds onto Kerruk - probably more due to the way the tongue is wrapped around...for the frog's odd bulbous eyes dart about excitedly as if seeking an escape.
Good Belliot! Tap, playin' Legolas!
Jack takes a look, and sees Kerruk still grappling with the nasty tongue. Hya! Jack swings his blade at the frog tongue.
Crit confirmed, 3x damage
Jack slashes through the frog's slimy tongue, and the rubbery appendage drops to the piling then slides down into the murky water below. The frog's eyes grow glassy and it stares at nothing as it slips back down in to the bog.
The other frog, seeing the crazed, bestial visage of Belliott sloshing through the murk that is supposed to be the amphibian's environment, turns to swim away. Upon presenting its back, Taps arrows slam down into it, killing the thing instantly.
Double Tap!
Tap looks over at Kerruk's slimied body. You need a bath, my friend, why don't you jump in with Belliott?
Well, then. I suppose we four kings of the bayou ought to continue on our way. Who knows what worse might be swimming about.
Not waiting for an answer, Jack steps from one piling the next, and lands on the further edge.
The group takes their time traversing the bog, and no more of the giant frogs show themselves - either those three were the lone dangerous denizens of the bog, or the example set by the group showed them to be a predator much higher up in the food chain.
The path continues to the south, meandering along tracks of muddy ground, and under the thick canopy of trees overhead. The heat is thick and muggy, and many different varieties of botflies and mosquitoes fly about, seeming to be scanning for some soft flesh from which to extract their food.
After about a mile and half, the canopy grows even thicker, spreading a thick darkness over the area that promises deep shadows. The land to either side is swampy, its depth hard to guess...though by the plantlife it seems no more than a foot or two. A terrible stench fills the swamp here - a fetid odor of cheap perfume and rotting flesh.
A huge tree stands in the middle of a clearing in the swamp ahead to the south. It is draped with some sort of huge tent. Lurid, painted faces cover both the tree trunk and tent, and both are decorated with rotting humanoid body parts and carpets of squirming insects.
A whorehouse for necrophiliacs? Tap murmurs to Jack.
If we even contemplate going over there, we have to first admit we aren't doing it to ask if they have a well with good water.
Tap grins.
also, insect swarms? No thank you.
I have no desire to acquaint myself with the inhabitants of this wretched island. Let us return the way we came, and swiftly. I see no profit, nor plunder, nor, frankly, water, in entering a tent covered in corpse-flesh and creeping things. I would rather face the that scrawny coward of a captain than that.
Jack turns, and makes his way back over the swamp, not waiting for anyone to follow.
Tap stares at the carpet of insects with a nervous feeling, and tries to recall whether what bugs look like that like to swarm.
Tap snorts in agreement, but pauses still.
but what if Rose and Sandara were taken in there?
Damn it to hell.
Jack stops.
No, Tap. I'm sorry. Our poor friends are long dead now, and likely their flesh consumed, their bones the marrow long sucked from.
Jack, its only been several hours since we found them gone. How can you be so sure? Do you see parts of Rosie decorating the tent?
Tap turns to Tacktack. Would you be willing to creep closer to see if you can find signs of our friends
Tack slips through the foliage, doing a fine impression of a monkey out for a leisurely stroll in the midst of its own habitat. His emotions are immediately conveyed back to Tap - fear and disgust, and the familiarity of one who has frequent dealing with humans. Tap interprets it into something resembling humans, though smelly and repulsive - more than one but less than a troop.
Tuvor conveys unease at being unable to see the group through the leafy canopy, but can tell little more.
Tap's knowledge of the insects seems to indicate that they're not actively swarming, but all gathering where a food source is located.
I think we have a classic case of cannibalism here. Now I know I should respect the richness of cultural differences, but that disgusts me...and I'll wager gold that our crew mates are about to be put into a pot for an early supper.
Jack whispers. Cannibalism, as it is practiced by most humanoids, is a little more subtle than that. With some, cannibalism is ritualized, and symbolic; flesh is consumed, but only specific parts, for specific purposes: the heart for courage and strength, the brain to remember loved ones. But with others, it must be understood in the context of feuds between kin groups, and accusations of witch-craft or demonic possession. Someone's child dies; he believes that his neighbor is at fault, and accuses them of sorcery. There is a raid, the victim is captured, butchered, and eaten, the better to ensure that no more harm can be done by them. No different, I think, that those who, back home, who mutilate the corpses of those who they believe might be undead.
This seems different, and more evil.
I we are going to do this. We should rush in, weapons drawn, and show no mercy. I am sure none will be shown to us.
Even better might be a distraction, that will draw the inhabitants out of the tent and into the forest.