Terin moves back out of the room through the curtain of light.
We need to figure out what the hell is going on here...
Seann racks his brain, trying desperately to remember something relevant to the situation. Namely, WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON.
Seann indicates to the party places such as this, where abnormal energies supplant the natural order of things, often attract or even form aberrant creatures. Though he might wish otherwise, he can also confirm that the effect is not an illusion.
As Terin backs out of the chamber fantastic, the area’s radiance shifts to a decidedly pained shade of crimson. The air inside your body vibrates as a profound bass roar emerges from behind the cloaked figure, toppling the humanoid form and revealing its heart of refuse. Filth sprays everywhere inside the room, coating those left inside with a stench that likely won’t ever wash clean, as a mammoth figure explodes from within the large central pile of muck. Confirming Anders’ suspicions, a creature analogous to the puzzle room depiction of an otyugh pointed out by Lavinia now confronts you.
Something about this particular specimen is decidedly different, however. To begin with, this one is gargantuan and puce. Color and size notwithstanding, the creature sports a set of wretchedly atrophied limbs and appears distinctly unhealthy for a creature that spends its entire life in a s!++ sauna. Bulbous growths writhe and undulate beneath the surface of its membranous hide, and as you watch in stunned horror, the creature gives a final gurgling roar before tearing itself apart from the inside out.
Roughly a dozen miniature but otherwise normal looking otyughs roil forth from the carcass, swarming towards the party. You may not know a lot about otyughs, but you are pretty sure they don’t normally reproduce like that. At least, you certainly hope not. Regardless of formal schooling on the subject, you can also tell they look ravenous.
Uncontrolled, the chamber light begins slowly cycling again.
"Otyughs. Why did it have to be otyughs? I hate otyughs."
"NnnNNNNNGHhh!"
Seann's opinion of the situation shifts from confused to deadly serious in approximately zero point zero five seconds. Indecisive as he may be, Seann Eoghan is no coward.
The ghostly green discs of energy, that until now have resembled nothing so much as a dust devil, abruptly stop whirling and arrange themselves into a hexagonal formation in front of the tattooed mage.
His spear at the ready, Seann utters a common Geoffan battle cry.
"Póg mahone, b~%#!es."
We can just pick up where we left off, to save on rolling:
(may as well reset from the top)Seann
Terin
Eldin
Harven
QLM
Tyndal
Anders
Otyugh(s)
You’re right, Anders. This is much better than letting ONE otyugh eat me.
"I prefer not being eaten, myself. But if you like, maybe we can hold off three of them while the fourth one eats you."
Seann up.
Seann springs toward one of the foul creatures, his spear raised above his head.
Seann pounces upon one of the foul menace, jab connecting solidly. The miniature otyugh bursts like a wet meat balloon, its innards instantly transforming into a fine jade mist which coats everything nearby .
Terin swings his scimitar at another one. tohit: 1d20+4=15, damage: 1d6+4=10
Terin swings his scimitar at another one. tohit: 1d20+4 = 15, damage 1d6+4=10
Terin’s expert swing slices into the petite creature, which explodes in a grisly parody of a birthday piñata. The spew of emerald vapor fills those it paints with spontaneous invigoration, almost a surge of uncontrolled growth.
"This is ... strange," Eldin comments to no-one in particular. He loads his crossbow and readies an action to fire at the first little filth-eater that threatens one of his friends, as he racks his brains for some solution to this puzzle - or at least some idea of what planar influence is at play here.
Ok, this is kinda fun now. Can someone hand me a weapon?
Tyndal swings at the blob closest to him.
Tyndal’s powerful swing rockets past, almost placing a new part in Seann’s hair but otherwise hitting nothing but empty space. The petite creature leaps back in answer, but Eldin’s bolt punctures the otyugh midair, dousing both men with a revolting spray of olive entrails . Closely following Eldin’s bolt, Anders magical projectile screams by, slamming into the side of yet another abomination and bursting the monstrosity like a soap bubble.
Two of the creatures set upon Seann with wild leaps, barbed appendages scrabbling for purchase . The moment the creature gains a hold on Seann, a surge of energy flows through him, and the contact point explodes with a riotous, uncontrolled growth .
Seeing the beginnings of unidentifiable appendages thrust their way from Seann’s skin, Eldin theorizes that this room, and indeed these beasts, exhibit some corrupted connection to an extremely powerful positive dominant plane of existence. Knowing this, he informs you absorbing too much life energy potential would be “not a good thing.”
The remaining creatures hurl themselves against Tyndal, who batters them aside, causing at least one of them to quiver ominously (.
Seann up
As the otyughs grasp Seann with their obscene appendages, the mage lets out a frantic bellow and flails wildly.
Well, it looks he's like flailing.
It's actually a spell.
A very familiar spell.
With a muffled *boom*, a wave of flame spreads over the two nearby otyughs, as well as anyone or anything in close range.
“… not a good thing,” concludes Eldin. He pauses, as he looks for another creature to shoot. “In fact, unprotected exposure to the Plane of Positive Energy can sometimes … oh gods.” The cleric forgets about lining up his next shot and fumbles for his dagger.
Terin is at 19 of 18HP.
Fort Save 1d20+4=15
Seann’s skin begins to radiate a steady white light, and he feels decidedly wrong, as if his insides were trying to become his outsides at the same time his skin is collapsing inwards. Eldin begins to exude a similar glow, though not as intense.
Seann’s searing wave of fire washes over the remaining otyughs (and Tyndal ), causing them to boil internally. The remaining creatures gibber and scream, then explode, spraying a hot mist the simultaneously burns, cauterizes, and mends the skin.
For now, the room is calm, though the mushroom faces continue their childlike singsong.
I think we need to dissipate the excess energy...*Terin sheathes his scimatar and pulls out his club, starting to move towards Seann*...don't wanna hurt him too much....sorry, brother but I think a good whacking will do you good....
"Nh..."
Seann quivers as the strange energy flows through his body.
Seeing Terin advancing, scimitar drawn, the mage makes the connection. Whipping a small dagger out of his belt pouch, he begins to carve an eldritch sigil into the left side of his chest.
"Don't worry. I got an idea."
Seann reaches again into his belt pouch, withdrawing a small vial of blue dye. He quickly rubs the dye into the wound.
Tyndal grunts at the minor burn.
Seann reaches again into his belt pouch, withdrawing a small vial of blue dye. He quickly rubs the dye into the wound.
*Terin looks at the glowing cleric and back to his club, and slowly back at the cleric* Well?
Seann reaches again into his belt pouch, withdrawing a small vial of blue dye. He quickly rubs the dye into the wound.
*Terin looks at the glowing cleric and back to his club, and slowly back at the cleric* Well?
Anders looks on as the glowing ones begin carving into themselves, and tries not to think too hard about Seann's new.... features.
"I'm starting to wonder if we were better off dying in the fire. Can we leave the scary room now? I need a drink."
Though much reduced, the uncomfortable wriggling continues. Seann grimaces, then proceeds to gouge a line from his hairline to the tip of his nose. Again, the mage rubs the dye into the wound.
"I need a friggin' drink."
Seann unclips a sturdy-looking tankard from his belt. Placing one hand over the vessel, he mutters a command word.
"Fuisce."
The tankard fills immediately with ice-cold, dark ale. Seann pauses for a moment, then downs the lot.
Terin, misjudging the angle of his swing, smashes his face in with his club, mangling his nose and probably breaking his orbital socket.
Max Damage of course!1d6+2=8
He then unfurls one scroll, staggers a bit and begins reading the words of power, which looks like it has some effect on the crushed orbital socket. 1d8+1=3
So he unfurls a second and tries to fix the rest of his shattered face. 1d8+1=9
....Anyone else need to dissipate any energy?
;P
Eldin grits his teeth, screws shut his eyes, and plunges his dagger into his flesh, close to the source of the glow.
Trying hard not to scream (it somehow seems to hurt more when you stab yourself), he turns shakily towards Terin. “No, I think I’m good,” he says faintly.
Trying to take his mind off the self inflicted wound, he gazes thoughtfully at the singing mushrooms, stroking his chin
“I once heard a tale about an old man who lived in a crocodile infested swamp,” he muses, “who kept a troupe of singing mushrooms. I am unsure f the veracity of that tale, or whether these mushrooms are of the same variety … or how that helps us at all.”
Current XP totals:
Anders 1600
Eldin 1725
Harven 1700
Seann 1725
Terin 1765
Tyndal 1700
“I once heard a tale about an old man who lived in a crocodile infested swamp,” he muses, “who kept a troupe of singing mushrooms. I am unsure f the veracity of that tale, or whether these mushrooms are of the same variety … or how that helps us at all.”
Vanthus examines the mushrooms dubiously.
"Do you suppose it got that way be eating these things?"
Concluding their orgy of self-disfigurement, the party breaths a collective sigh of relief, though not particularly deeply owing to the hideous stench of the place. The glow surrounding the energy suffused group members fades away, and twitching or crying, the undeveloped limbs sprouting from Seann begin to recede somewhat, his body reabsorbing the degenerate structures.
The all-pervading light has faded to a soft white, and the dreary mushroom face’s songs have faded to a low, entirely unsynchronized murmur.
"Let us quickly search this place - perhaps there will be some clue to Vanthus' passage or whereabouts - and then move on. I fear that we have neither the knowledge nor skill to shut a planar breach, and remaining here too long may not prove healthy." The cleric then looks at the others. "I shall use Fharlanghn's blessings and the wand to heal those who need it once we are out of here ... it may be wise to remain a little wounded whilst we are in this chamber."
Eldin begins searching the area.
Terin is no help in the search (3).
Probing the chamber, both Eldin and Terin find themselves drawn to something at the rear of the room, though stepping into a mass of material best left unidentified diverts Terin somewhat from the sensation. Preoccupied by senses seldom used and not possessed by other races, Eldin perseveres and discovers what might be a hidden door towards the back of the room.
Tyndal will search the piles, using the butt of his glaive.
using the butt of his glaive.