Laurelin puts down the two wax balls in a crook of dirt where they can safely rest and says, "This way." She takes up the torch and leads back into the nest.
"Unfortunately a lot of the orbs are close to the queen's chamber, so we'll probably meet some heavy resistance."
Cale frowns, readying himself to cast a spell while he stays at the back of the procession
"All right... I'll hang onto the torch and provide light. Did anyone manage to get a bag or basket while we were escaping from the caravan? Believe me, it gets hard to hold those orbs, and they'll fall out of your arms if you try to stack too many of them."
Crow held up his huge, shovel like hands. "Can carry more?" he said questioningly. Even without a bag it should be possible.
"I should follow Laurelin. I'm smaller, if it gets tight in there I will have a better chance to back her up.
Laurelin leads the way back into the wezer hive, with the stalwart Khar behind her. Ick follows, with Crow going between her and Cale.
The interior of the hive is still buzzing, but it appears the wezers responsible for defending the hive are either lying in wait elsewhere or wiped out. The half-giant barely fits into the cramped tunnels, with his every move dislodging large clods of earth and causing the ceiling to raise--and break in places, revealing the green-gold moonlight of the sky above.
The group reaches the birthing chamber of the hive, standing before the bloated form of the queen. The queen starts thrashing and buzzing harshly, filling the room with a strange, salty smell.
"She's calling all the rest of the hive to defend her. Let's get some orbs and get out of here!"
Laurelin focuses on holding the torch and providing light so folks can pick up water orbs.
Ick grabs four water orbs
Crow shovered as many orbs as he could into his arms. Even hunched over his size would hopefully allow the number he grabbed to be as high as he could count, 'lots'.
Khar leaves the looting to others and moves to secure the group's exit with a sword in each hand.
Ick-tk-chk-ka scoops up four of the remaining thirty-three wax globes of water, while Crow scoops up eight wax globes in a hurry.
Laurelin grabs one honey globe with her free hand, figuring they'll need the nutrition.
Crow loaded up on water. Even with his skills that allowed him to survive on less than he would usually drink as much as a full-grown human on a good day.
Cale also grabs as much as he can carry
As the party gathers up food and water, the sound of scuttling feet come from the entrance to the queen's chamber. A pair of soldier wezers come up from behind the party--but thanks to Khar guarding the room, they can't get in.
Khar turns and yells back, "Two of them, let me clear a path!"
Ick drops one globe of water from her claws and summons a fire that sits in the palm of her hand. [ooc]Cast produce flame[/s]
Khar's first swing causes the wezer to rear up to dodge it--and he takes advantage of the opening to drive his short blade into the creature's neck, causing it to topple into the dirt.
Laurelin focuses her thoughts and takes in the hive around her, the hexagons of the wezer constructions, the clicking of their chitin and the acrid smell of their chemical trails. She subsumes the curious-mind and brings for the hunt-mind, the ordered and predatory instinct that lurks somewhere deep in the recesses of her subconscious, buried under a million years of biological change and normally suppressed under the human superego.
Or not.
Crow moved up to one of the giant insects and attempted to headbutt the creature to the floor.
Crow's skull easily crushes the wezer into the floor.
The shortsword is stuck through a leather loop on Khar's harness as the mul gladiator scoops up a few globes of water. With the bastard sword in one hand and cradling the precious water with his other arm Khar sets out to clear the exit.
Laurelin leads the way with the torch as quick as she can, occasionally stopping to look over her shoulder to make sure everyone's keeping up.
Crow...smirked. It was pleasing to be more dangerous without the use of his hands as many were with armour and weapons. He waited for the others and so they could leave.
Cale exhales in relief, glad he didn't have to put down his water to cast forth a missile of magic.
Ick leaves, holding onto the fire she conjured in one claw and the globes of water in the other.
The return trek back through the hive is slow going for the party, carrying as many wax globes of honey and water as they are. Several wezers approach the party but refuse to engage as they make their way out of the tunnels--the stench of wezer ichor clings to the party like a burial shroud, sending a very clear message to the survivors of the colony.
Crow's massive bulk knocks over several tunnel walls, collapsing the passages to the brood queen's chamber in a gout of earth and dust. Fortunately, the group is able to reach the entrance of the wezer colony and return to the surface without further incident.
The twin moons are beginning to sink in the sky, the green-and-gold rays of moonlight beginning to give way to a glowing ochre dawn on the far horizon.
The provisions the party has acquired appear to have been untouched in their absence.
Laurelin puts down her water and honey orbs in a separate pair of piles.
"We should drink up now," she says. "Usually these balls are kept underground to keep cool. If the sun gets really hot tomorrow the wax may melt. Anything we can save should be stowed in a cloth sack or something to try to keep it from getting too hot."
Crow nodded and sipped at the water. It was better to drink it slowly, he'd been told, over the next few hours rather than pouring it into his gullet.
Ick drank what little she needed, a cup if that. She ate the rest of the mystery meat drizzled with the honey. "We should get moving."
"Sun's almost up," Khar said drinking carefully from one of the waxen globes. He was extra careful not to let any spill.
Ick leads the party back to the tower while the others rest she keeps watch. She stayed completely still waiting.
Day 3, Year of Priest's Defiance, 170th King's Age, Nighttime
Once everyone has had a chance to rest and recover in the old jhakar nest, it's a simple matter for the party to retrace their steps and proceed past the wezer colony.
The air tonight is calm and still as the party treks through the badlands, past lonely spires of scorched rock and the ever-encroaching dunes of rolling sand. Occasionally, a long, ribbon-like silhouette flits across the twin moons as the party proceeds.
Passing over another sand dune reveals a sight that is both welcome and worrying. In the distance is what looks like a large pool of murky water, surrounded by clumps of dark grass and shrubs. Next to the pool is the massive carcass of what looks like a house-sized grey-scaled lizard--a mekillot. A second mekillot is standing next to the carcass, its eyes darting between it and the pool of water.
Ick approaches the massive creature without fear, making soothing clicking noises on her approach. If it lets her Ick pats the creature to try and comfort it. She asks rhetorically "What happened to your mate there?" She tries to take in the scene and determine why the other mekillot is dead
The mekillot whirls on the thri-kreen as she approaches and makes a low grunting noise, moving to put itself between her and the oasis. When she reaches out to touch the beast, it stops and tilts its head at her before letting her touch its face.
...this mekillot also smells familiar. Was it one of the ones towing the argosy you were kept in?
At the oasis, Laurelin pauses and cocks her head. She regards the mekillots with some curiosity.
Realizing distress in the mekillot, she says sadly, "I'm guessing that this water is poisoned, which is what felled this mekillot, leaving its partner rather upset."
"I don't know if that makes the meat inedible," she adds as an afterthought.
Ick rubs its face trying to comfort it. She slowly approaches the oasis wary of danger. If she's unopposed she will examine the dead mekillot.
"Its panicing and fearful of the oasis. These two were pulling the Argosy."
[Ooc]Trying to determine cause of death.
The living mekillot snuffs, but allows Ick to examine the corpse.
"You're right it is poison. The meat will be tainted."
Khar warily watches Ick and Laurelin investigate the fallen animal and the dirty water from an easy charge distance away. He keeps his hands resting on the hilts of his sword waiting to hear things were safe.