| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Pork listens for a moment, the cries of the denizens of the swamp disturbing him, and grunts.
That is my purpose, strange as it would seem to most. This land is my home. It must be protected. If I can placate the fire, I must try. If the spirits agree, then all will be well. If not...
Pork glances at the others and snorts
Well. Then we would not want to linger here. Will you aid me? The risk will be great in trying.
"We will try. If we should succeed, you will owe a debt to the flames. If we fail?" the Immolator shrugs "You will owe nothing."
Fssst steps away from the flow and sheds his garments, piling them carefully atop a sturdy looking rock that seems unlikely to be troubled by any potential diverted lava floes.
The Immolator returns to the edge of the pouring lifeblood of the mountain and trails his claws into it, calling upon his connection with the fire to slow it, pushing back against the burning tide.
Pork nods, before turning towards the lava and snorting. He closes his eyes and stills his mind, listening to the sounds of the lava as it slowly crawls across the ground, to the fires starting to catch as wood begins to burn. The cries of distant creatures, and the sizzle and steam of lava hitting the swamp.
Great Fire, your hunger devours my land, and swallows my kin. Allow me to calm you for a time, so that life may be preserves and this land be spared further hurt..
✴ On a 10+ choose two.
✴ On a 7–9 choose one.
✴ On a miss, some catastrophe occurs as a result of your calling.
The effect you desire comes to pass
You avoid paying nature’s price
You retain control
Hegh watches the two odd kobolds for a few minutes, and grimaces as the lava continues to spread.
"Through us, Gorlaug will save this land."
Hegh takes to the air, and brings his frozen breath to bear on the front edges of the lava.
Fsst strides purposefully along the lava flows that run down the mountain like hot dragon blood from a stabbed heart. The heat emanating from the earth is abundant; it is all around him. To most, it would be uncomfortable, even stifling. To Fsst, it is a reassurance of the most fundamental truth of existence;
Eventually, everything burns.
Pork stands nearby, leaning on his spear and staring at the other kobold thoughtfully for a moment. Then, he turns his gaze outward, to the swamplands that have always surrounded Moontower Mountain. These swamplands have spelled the doom of many an adventuring party that was foolish enough to brave its waters. The riches of the mountain drew new prey to the swamplands like bait to a trap; in return, the kobolds of Moontower Mountain would gleefully ride out and loot the corpses of the dead. In this way, the Moontower Mountain kobold tribe had a symbiotic relationship with the treacherous mire surrounding their mountain home.
The strange, tusked druid makes no overt movements or gestures; nonetheless, those who are sensitive to such things (such as Grick) can see the spirits of the land responding to his very thoughts. He communes with them without words; words would be superfluous and meaningless.
Through communing with the spirits of the earth, the two attuned kobolds come to the same realization at the same time.
The eruption immediately following Gorlaug's death was just the beginning. Even now, thousands of meters below your feet, a chain reaction is bubbling up in the hot, voltaic crust of the earth. A bigger eruption is coming; an explosion of fire and death that would make Mount Saint Helens seem like a Fourth of July party.
You have bought precious time to escape for those of the Land that can, Fsst, but it is a momentary reprieve. Within a day, three at the very most, it will not matter. Death has come to these lands.
Pork's eye widen in shock as the realization of the doom coming to these lands overwhelms him. He leans heavily on his spear as he processes this revelation.
My home..my lands..everything is undone. Everything will die. All because of these slayers of Gourlag. What have they done?
He slowly waddles away from the lava, still in a state of shock.
Seeing the extravagant ceremonies and bleak faces when the party should be gearing up to head out, Sees throws up her hands in exasperation. "Have we given in to the eventuality of our deaths? Because I'm all for rolling over and dying, if that's what we want to do with Gorlaug's legacy. I mean, evidently that's all He was worth to the rest of the world. That Dragonborn was a paladin of Bahamut, and facing a totally legitimate dragon, killed Him. If there were ever a sign that we deserve to be ground into the dusts of history, that is probably it." Sees slowed her speech and gave thist next sentence added emphasis, "If everything we know now is true, there is no point to our existence, and we should already be dead."
Meanwhile Thunk has long ago gotten distracted by tossing rocks in the air and batting them as far as he possibly can, playing a game eonly he understands
str cause I wanna roll dice while the adults talk
Meanwhile Thunk has long ago gotten distracted by tossing rocks in the air and batting them as far as he possibly can, playing a game eonly he understands
str
"Sees, truth is as it is. Even if we should be dead, we are not. Logically then, we are not meant to be dead. When one force, such as Gorlaug, is overtaken by another, an imbalance is introduced. I believe we are to be the counterweight; to regain the equilibrium. Pork and Fssst were trying to rebalance things their way. Now we must try another way."
Grick reels the line back into his suddenly useful walking stick, taking time to try to get it inserted correctly so it will function correctly the next time.
While he's doing his chore he's listening to the babble of voices all around him feeling slightly overwhelmed. I'm just a simple Kobold that can call on spirits, I have no idea what jibber jabber these lizards are spouting. It is stressing me out though. Grick sits on the ground while the Druid and the fire guy do various things absently chewing on his foot claw as he waits the groups decision about how to proceed.
Pork grunts with determination.
These lands are lost. With Gorlaug's death, the imbalance is too great. Soon, ths mountain will bring forth even greater amounts of death and destruction. Fsst has bought us time, but not much. We must quickly set off to Bastion if we are to pick up the trail of our foes.
"Please Pork, lead the way! We are all quite ready to put this place of death behind us."
-
Smoog gathers his things, and starts toward Bastion not sure which trail is best but knows staying put is not an option now.
Shieldbearer! Lord Gorlaug commands we seek out the Dragonborn. Follow.
Hegh and Shieldbearer head towards Bastion, beginning to leave the group behind.
Pork grunts.
It is best I scout ahead. the swamps are dangerous enough, more so now that it's creatures will be fleeing. I will warn you of what dangers I can along the path
Pork nods, and with a snort, mud seems to mystically cover his form...
As the party gets underway, Sees makes sure Pork and Grick don't eat everything.
Unfortunately, her griping and pleading does not keep the party from tucking into their meager reserves.
Among the last to leave, Fssst breathes deeply of the heated air, feeling the thrum of power tighten to the breaking point throughout their mountain home. They have lost everything. It was, in that way, a good day. Pork would not owe more than the mountain would take after all.
Not that Fssst intended to spare the humans.
He turned away from the crackling slopes, the stilled blood of the mountain still warm in his pouch.
Oh spirits, good grief... Grick thinks as he watches Pork, Sees-Death and Fssst struggle with their various tasks. He absentmindedly munches on some of the party's food as he trudges along behind the others leaning on his new, fancy walking stick.
When you reach the end of a session, choose one of your bonds that you feel is resolved (completely explored, no longer relevant, or otherwise). Ask the player of the character you have the bond with if they agree. If they do, mark XP and write a new bond with whomever you wish.
Once bonds have been updated look at your alignment. If you fulfilled that alignment at least once this session, mark XP. Then answer these three questions as a group:
Did we learn something new and important about the world?
Did we overcome a notable monster or enemy?
Did we loot a memorable treasure?
For each “yes” answer everyone marks XP.
You can use this time to level up, if you find yourself with enough XP after completing the end of session move. Thunk, if you would level up with the +1 XP from answering the Barbarian question about your homeland at the start of next session, you can level up too.
Hegh will attempt to aid Fssst with trailblazing, by taking to the skies occasionally to scout for difficult terrain and upcoming obstacles, trying to find an easier path.
As they walk.
Thunk think you need pow from All Eats. he says to Hegh
If the dragon-god Gorlaug was the heart of these lands, the mire is its body; and it is easy to feel the specter of death on the vast bogs, without his overbearing presence in the mountain behind. Pork, who is especially in tune with the lands, can feel the suffering of the very earth beneath his claws, and it distracts and disorients him. At times, the druid can barely feel his true kobold form, instead surrendering to the confusion that the tiny swamp sparrow feels. The tusked sparrow flits this way and that, his scouting accomplishing little. Pork, you gain the Sparrow moves Dodge a Hazard and Snatch an Arrow, but if you spend any Hold to use them you will instantly revert to kobold afterward.
The first day's rations are quickly consumed by the desperate kobolds as they pick their way through the muck behind Fsst. The Immolator is more comfortable with flaming religious practices than trailblazing the mire, and even his keen senses are confounded by the smoke from the fires that are spreading through the forest behind them, near the volcano. The group of kobolds never finds a place to rest in the mire, there is too much unrest from the local wildlife and in the earth beneath their feet. As the night falls and a sleepy Pork continues to try and scout ahead, the bird completely overlooks a great rent in the earth that leads down into the planet's very molten core. Only the dull red glow alerts Fsst to it, and even then his tired eyes barely stop the group in time.
Spend 2 rations in total as you journey through the swamp, following the strange sparrow-kobold. Thunk, were you the sole survivor of the slaughter of the All-Eater, or did you briefly travel with a similar group of other survivors that have left or died off?
Pork, on the second straight day of near-nonstop traveling, you wearily fly between two trees in the swampy woods only to find yourself suddenly in a cage! The cage is bird-sized, with barely enough room to spread your wings, and it's latched closed immediately!
Just as the rest of you notice that Pork's been caught in a trap, you hear a wicked chuckling coming from either side of the path. You're in the swamplands now, with tall-rooted trees all around you; sitting on the roots, where seconds earlier there had been nothing, there now was a whole tribe of Grippli.
The frog-men were a tolerated pest species in these parts. They dwelt within the swamplands surrounding Moontower Mountain, scavenging what they could and preying on invading adventurers, mostly because Gorlaug didn't deign to notice them and the Kobolds under his command didn't usually want to face them on "their turf." The amphibious people were known for being underhanded and using every advantage the watery environment granted them in combat, and frequently raided the kobolds as well as the adventurers when the kobolds ventured forth to collect Bastion's tributes.
Now, the tree-frog people, with bright red eyes and poisonously garish skin colorations, have you surrounded. There's at least 20 of them, hefting nets, pilfered wands, crude bows, and tridents...what do you do?
As they travel, Hegh holds a threeway conversation with Thunk, although as far as Thunk is concerned, there are only two participants.
"Gorlaug commands that all followers become powerful by any means. Tell me more of All Eats."
As the tree-frog people suddenly appear, Hegh bares his teeth and draws upon Gorlaug's blood. "Shieldbearer, to my side!"
Exhausted from the journey, Gorlaug's blood does not fully rise to his call, and Hegh's anger overwhelms him. Someone will pay.
Standing next to Shieldbearer, Hegh opens his mouth and breathes ice at the nearest frog men.
Three frog men in a cluster away from Pork are frozen solid but take no damage. As is something else that I didn't intend.
Sees, bedraggled and bone-weary, is almost overjoyed to see sentient life. Finally, something which will listen to reason For once, however, she stops to recall the nature of her last encounter with the creatures.
Thunk, were you the sole survivor of the slaughter of the All-Eater, or did you briefly travel with a similar group of other survivors that have left or died off?
There were in fact 3 survivors, well more like 2 and half. One, a kobold Fighter named Griknix was left a vegetable after a particularly adept skeleton stuck a dirk deep into his ear, leaving him an almost mindless zombie. He actually followed Thunk for several weeks before he decided to turn away when he saw a carnival. The other was the new self proclaimed chief. A female who proclaimed herself the Herald of the All Eater. She made a demand that Thunk give up hi quest for vengeance on pain of death. Well as you can imagine there was pain of death, but it was for the now former herald.
Sees: the Grippli are ruthless mercenaries and opportunists, seeing themselves as utterly "on their own" in the world - completely racially insular. Non-Grippli are always to be mistrusted and taken advantage of when possible. Your tribe, pragmatic as it is, has made deals with them in the past; they do speak Draconic so there isn't a language barrier. However, when dealing with them, keep your weapons at the ready. It's not uncommon for a Grippli to feign aggression suddenly just to "feel out" how a potential business partner would react.
The last time one was brought before Gorlaug's high priest, it was for stealing from the Tribute convoy. Over half the riches from Bastion had been stolen from the caravan by Grippli bandits before the kobold guardians could drive them off with flame spells. The Grippli in question had his fingers shortened and his tongue torn out, and then was set free; an example of Gorlaug's "mercy." That was a few months ago.
Thunk immediately swings his club about him
. Con for come at me bro
You leave Thunk pig lone! You touch Thunk pig now Thunk will thump. You fraid of Thunk thump?
AH Pork needs to be protected. Let them all approach me!
Fssst shakes the bleariness from his mind and attempts to conjure a fiery dagger with which to defend himself.
With the fighters leaping into the fray, Sees has to swallow her first attempt at diplomacy and settles for: "Oh, you've done it now, Grippli, You've angered Gorlaug's executioner. When he is done with the lot of you, you will be lucky if all you loose are your tongues."
It may have been the confines of basic Draconic, or her dead-tiredness, but one way or another that one just didn't feel right.
Smoog aims his steam shooter at the bird cage and unleashes clouds of steam hoping to cover Pork's escape.
Hegh will charge the frozen frog men, sword drawn, with Shieldbearer at his side, attempting to shatter them.
Pork chirps angrily in his cage, looking around as events unfold around him. He examines the cage to see what it is made of..
Grick, trudging along with the pack keeps replaying the conversation with Gorlaug's spirit in his mind...each time he relives the overwhelming encounter his anger about what how been done to the mighty God grows and grows...and now he finds that the scouts of the group have led them into a trap. His building anger explodes...
"HOW DARE YOU TOADS INTERFERE WITH MY VENGEANCE"!! he screams at the Grippli as his barely suppressed rage comes blowing to the surface of his mind as he calls upon the lightning that the spirits control.
Sensing an opportunity, Hegh adds his frost breath to Grick's lightning, hoping beyond hope to impress their God.
Flung is impressed with Hegh's battle tactics with his shieldbearer. Realizing that it is a sound battle plan for being outnumbered, Flung sets up in a position to cover Thunk's back.
"I've got you covered, big guy!" he says with spear and shield in the ready position to hold off the attacking Grippli, while giving Thunk enough room to move.
Hegh smiles as he sees Flung and Thunk working together to draw the frogmen in. Clever...
Signaling Shieldbearer, Hegh drops back into a loose formation with the imposing warriors, following Flung's lead.
Hegh is clearly not used to fighting in larger formations.
Hegh tries to summon his powers of the dragon, but is stymied. Draconic rage surges within his heart. Remove 1 Loyalty from your Shieldbearer as you cruelly injure him as you give your orders. He should not have distracted you as you were trying to conjure up the Dragon's Might. The fury in your blood rises once again, and you open your mouth to disgorge blazing ice over the nearest Grippli group. However, he fired too fast, before he could get close enough for effective range. The ice-breath washes over the Grippli fighters and hampers them, but doesn't freeze them solid as you intend.
You pay it no mind; they will die regardless. The freezing cold from your breath prevents them from getting out of the way in time as you charge in, your weapon raised overhead with a wild scream emitting from your lips. Slash, and you lacerate the frog-warriors before they can react. However, your early charge played exactly into what they were expecting.
This isn't the first time Grippli have ambushed Kobolds, and the swampland is their land more than the kobolds, who prefer the dryness of their mountain tunnels. As you swing wildly around, you fall into a pit trap that is concealed by swamp water. You're waist-deep before you even realize what happened. You can't move without struggling to escape this pit first, and it won't be easy - you're trapped in thick quicksand.
After Hegh is immobilized, temporarily, the Grippli tribe bursts out laughing, all together, their froglike voices ribbiting at a high pitch. Their laughter is interrupted, however, by the burst of steam and lightning from Smoog and Grick. The hot steam washes over all the frogs' already-wet skin, and the lightning crackles over it. Pork's cage is dropped to the ground when the jet of steam hits the Grippli holding him, and the cage door pops open! The lightning creates crackling clouds of ozone as it rips through the fog, and visibility drops to within a few feet of your face all around you! You can see each other, but not the main body of Grippli warriors - and they can't see you. You see arrows and spells of magic whistling through the fog-screen created by Smoog, missing you all harmlessly.
A large, bullfrog-like warrior jumps out of the trees nearby to confront Sees-Death. Whirling his trident in circles, the warrior croaks and stabs the bard! Sees, you whirl around to escape it, but the stabbing points still puncture the scales of your leg. Take 1d6+2 damage, and he's drawing his spear back for another slash at you, when...
Fsst leaps up onto the bullfrog warrior's back with a flaming dagger held high, stabbing the flaming brand into the trident-wielder's chest. Fsst, I always count the first roll of "creating your flame dagger" as attacking with it, in this kind of specific situation - roll your damage.
Meanwhile, Flung the skirmisher is still somewhat positioned outside the fog cloud, and he can see the angry frog-people descending on Thunk, who also escaped the fog. Along with Hegh and to a lesser extent Pork, you four are the only ones who can see clearly. Unfortunately, the Grippli is ready for you, Flung. You've got your spear ready, charging at a ninja-star wielding Grippli threatening Thunk, but the frog-man flings the painful metal stars in your face! Take 2d4 damage, and you and Thunk are surrounded, cut off from Hegh in his quicksand-trap.
Frog men are always trouble. I forsee a great amount of loot and destruction!
Thump!
for
Thunk immediately attacks the nearest Grippli that is armed with the biggest looking weapon and he promptly shatters its hand with his Club, letting the attack carry on into his foe damaging it somewhat.
Now Flung should be able to spear this one as it grabs his hand
Poke one Thunk just thump! he says to Flung
Furious at his predicament, Hegh calls upon his blood and black wings sprout from his back. However, something doesn't feel quite right...
Smoog adjusts his grip on the ancient contraption, twisting a valve and focusing the steam into a tight forceful beam of white-hot scald. Aiming in the direction of the loudest Grippli yells, Smoog showers them with pain.
-
-
"Gorlaug sends his love! Eat his wrath worm-suckers!"
• The device needs more power, spend a charge.
• The device is damaged. You can repair it, but it will take some time and concentration.
as the effects of the 7-9 hit
unless someone can activate my +2 aid on hold from Sees?
Rage burning in his heart, Grick screams in frustration as the mist hides the hated frogmen from his sight. Holding his short spear he charges through the fog in the direction of the foe!
Smoke dumb frog more! Thunk yells as he hears the steam thing going
aid
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Smoog keeps taunting the slimy bog boogers...
"Nobody likes you,
Everybody hates you,
Why don't you go eat worms,
Long, thin, slimy ones,
Short, fat, juicy ones,
Itsy, bitsy, icky, sticky worms.
Down goes the first one,
Down goes the second one,
Oh how they wiggle in your gut.
Up comes the first one,
Up comes the second one,
Now there's one crawling out your butt!"
Panick-stricken and blinking the blood from her eyes, Sees begins to reassure herself, watching Hegh attempt to pull himself out of the quicksand and remembering a similar scene in an exceedingly long story about a boy and his horse. "Pain is an illusion brought on by the weakness of the superego and the ID, sufficient discipline can supersede this fault of biology through practiced rote. Perception itself, and perhaps the whole of reality is an illusion of the senses and makes no direct effect on the ego..."
Determination filling her heart, Sees loads her slingshot with a bullet, taking a position in the center of the other Kobolds, and waits for a clear sight on a frogman.
Flung tries to bring his shield up in time to block the thrown projectiles, but is much too slow and grimaces in pain as his hide is pierced by the pointy stars.
Despite looking like a pincushion, Flung is still able to focus on the grunge* of Gripplis surrounding him and Thunk. Taking advantage of the distracted Grippli that is grabbing its hand in obvious pain from Thunk’s blow, Flung jabs it quickly in the chest with his spear.
Flung pulls his spear back and drops back in his battle stance eyeing the Grippli grunge surrounding them.