PrP: What Tangled Webs We Weave
Log Info
- Title: What Tangled Webs We Weave
- Emitter: Lenore
- Characters: Virton (Art5)* Myaris (Sor3)* Shagara (Mnk3)* Ikavod (Bbn4)* Galmr (Ftr2)* Ansrir (Pal4)* Wilros (Ftr1/Wiz1)* Hun'rar (Pal/Sor3)*
- Place: Deep Woods - Alexandria
- Time: May 8, 2016
- Summary: The migratory patterns of the local wilds have gone out of whack due to the recent monstrous activity in the surrounding wilderness, and as a result the woods have been coated in thick, sticky spiders web! Local rangers have reached out to the Adventurer's Guild in seek of aid clearing the webbing, and the creatures that're leaving it, so that some sense of normalcy can resume in this threatened nature.
- APL: 3
- Encounter 1: CR6, 6 Giant Spiders, CR6 (Each) 2 Deathwebs
ST:
It's... beautiful.
Our adventurers have been lead only a few hours into the forests nearest to Alexandria, and as the copse grows thicker, the webs begin to stretch in silken curtains that glitter with the final lasting rays of evening, shimmering with the colours cast by nature's brush; like flame and smoke, drifting between the trees in harmless sway, far more otherworldly in its wonder than one might have considered when the job was posted.
It is plentiful, the deeper you walk, the more there is, and the path is eventually overrun in its entirety, blocked off by their desperate spinning. "It's not really a mystery what it is," The ranger that's been sent to guide you offers quietly, a small wild-elf man with wolfish gaze and dark brown skin named Aisheleir. He gestures toward the webbing as he comes to a halt, peering around the area with keen gaze, taking in a slow breath through his nose as the leaves above rustle and whisper with the ginger kiss of the breeze. "Tracks we've examined throughout the woods suggest that it's simply an influx of giant spiders. We've seen them here before, but never in these numbers."
One of his hands lifts, an archer's gauntlet clipped and wrapped about his arm as he reaches for some of the webbing, running fingertips over the strands like he would draw the string of his bow, releasing them with what one might expect would be a twanging snap, but they thread and drift away. "They've been relatively harmless, until most recent excursions where they began trying to head travellers off, and have blocked the route through. They have begun causing issue for the other wildlife, as well, acting in concert to bring down animals they should not be able to stand against, and there has been something that has been causing an ill wind to rise. We will be pushing through the western woods," He points to the west, then sweeps forward in a gesture, "In an attempt to aggitate and stir them, that they might maneuver into your position nearer the path. We have others in position to back cut them behind us, eliminating those that flee in the other direction, but we've not enough men to contain them from here."
He nods, "That is why we need you."
"You need only wait. Once I join the others, it will be a matter of minutes before they will be upon you. ... They will not be pleased by our methods, and I regret that we must eliminate them, but we must cull the threat." He glances over the party, squinting, clearly uncomfortable with bringing in outside help. He turns then, pacing through the underbrush of the forestry and nearly immediately disappearing amidst the wild, as though he were a part of it, welcomed home. "I would suggest you prepare yourselves. We will not be able to help you once they have begun." And with that, he's gone -- he doesn't linger to answer questions, nor does he bother asking further if you're still willing to aid.
Apparently there's no turning back now. There is a whispered final few words offered in his parting as he drifts into the forest without a sound of stepping, as though the boughs bent away from him to spare the noise.
"Good luck."
Shagara watches as this guy leaves without answering questions. "Well....that's not a good start to this excursion." She says with a deep breath. She crosses her arms and makes it a point to breathe through her nose.....and slowly draws her sword. "have your weapons ready."
Myaris nods as she moves along with the others to be shown where they are going to wait. As they get there and the archer departs, she calls on the energy within her and a blackish green aura surrounds her a moment and then fades as she armors herself with her magic. Her hand crossbow is loaded though she doesn't keep it in her hands, she has spells and other means available too.
Hun'rar grins broadly before he closes the visor of his helmet. "This is good! A good hunt. The Great Hunting Dragon would approve." he notes with satisfaction. "We have just to follow his example and we will be successfull! A shame about the spiders but they have wandered into the wrong hunting ground." He readies his sword and shield for incoming foes.
"I reckon it'll be what it'll be." buzzes Virton, who trudges along with the group in the back line. His rather ruined looking bright coloured poncho idly flutters about in the breeze, revealing some small structural damage to the Golem's chassis from obvious acid erosion - but hey, it's still working. His head cranes around with the soft click and vrr of gears working, orange glowing eyes staring around through the darkness.
"That bein' said, I'm gonna start with the whole magitechnical business.."
It's always the undead... or spiders. Ikavod had travelled largely in silence, expression souring upon seeing the arachnid presence become so much more blatant. It wasn't ever a question of what but the question of 'how many' was going to be the important one. He didn't need to be told to have a weapon ready, he had been carrying his glaive the entire way, roughly local to Virton.
Wilros has been following a few feet behind the rest of the adventurers, his bow string pulled back and an arrow nocked. He walks with an archer's grace, but not that of a ranger. No, he's far too uncomfortable with these green and earthy surroundings. He grimaces a bit when they stumble upon the spider webs. "Ew, spiders. I hate spiders." He grumbles to himself. There's hints of a thrill in his eyes despite his complaining. A thrill of battle. He's almost excited.
Ansrir mmms and nods, bowing his head as he recites a prayer to Vardama. "Oh, Dread Lady, please look favorably upon your servant and his allies today as we march into battle, watch over us to keep us safe, and to call us into your breast when our time does come," he says softly.
"Hahaha!" Galmr laughs, a deep and booming sound from the young Giantborn's chest. He hefts his Earthbreaker over his shoulder. "Giant spiders? Surely we heroes are more than a match for such beasts." he says, bravado clear in his voice, as he grins wide. "Between me and my new friends we can surely fell any such beast!" he says, looking towards the others who'd joined the party of impromptu exterminators.
ST:
It isn't long before the foliage begins rustling, and the telltale 'kss' hiss of the giant spiders is heard as they rampage through the forest, bursting through their own webbing as the glow of fire can be seen in the dark distance deep within -- he did say they weren't going to appreciate their methods. Thankfully, it seems well contained by whatever nature-magic casting folk they have with them, as it remains localized and unmoving on the periphery of the weald. The party, however, has been well prepared, warned ahead of time, and is unsurprised by the presense of the beasties that this way come.
It does, however, sound like a whole lotta legs.
There's no chitinous clacking, no exoskeletal hiss, but there is a stampeding thrum to the ground beneath their feet as the horde marches on.
To be fair, they probably hate Wilros, too.
Standing in the clearing, the group is witness then to a tide of arachnid that charges from the edge of the forest, some massive, others large but... tiny in comparison. Those have strange markings, brightly coloured with black legs as they march onward, free of the webbing, but lingering back for some unknown reason.
Curious.
Some drop down from above, twirling gracefully down until they meet the ground to join in the fray -- shit's 'bout to get real.
"Aw hells," buzzes Virton, as he reaches down and pops a metallic tube into the corner of his mouth - it slots and screws in, even - and it emits a belch of black smoke as the metallic Clive Westwind, the Steelborn Cowboy - or Virton, so have you - points a thunderbelcher at the descending spider. With a pull of the trigger and an audiable *BOOM* thunderclap of noise, the buckshot slams into the spider, as the Golem releases his grip on the weapon, letting it fall slack after its shot.
Hun'rar rushes up with his shield ready to assist the mechanical compatriot "Stand behind me! I will take the creatures on!" he says with far too much enthusiasm, his bastard sword glows read as he holds it aloft but the strike catches nothing but air and a bit of dirt as he brings it down.
Ansrir growls as the first spider bites into him, spinning slowly as he draws his blade, moving out of the way of the next spider as it leaps at him. Taking his sword down against the spider on his leg and digs it into him, smiling happily as the sword cuts into the creature.
Myaris moves over to one of the spiders and calls on the energy within her. her hands glow with a blackish green energy almost seeming to drip as she lashes out to touch the spider. She misses it though and the glowing fades.
Ikavod does not necessarily care for spiders, actually he was fairly sure that anyone who liked spiders had something wrong with them. He had always had a live-and-let-live relationship with smaller, less dangerous spiders but that went out the window when he found them in his personal space. These broke both of those rules. And this one even made the first move. With a low whooping sound the Giantborn whips his glaive around over his head with one hand before catching it with the other. Ikavod lunges with a stomp forward, leaning into the thrust of the glaive as it punches through carapace and is pulled out. Unfortunately the thing is still moving. Honestly he felt smashing them with an Earthbreaker would be more deserving but then again he didn't care to be terribly close to them.
Shagara sees a spider coming up along with the others, and reverses the grip on her sword. She moves her way up and, in a rather graceful spin, she tries to put the blade between it's eyes. but, in her graceful pursuit......she makes a terrific whiff.
"Ugly, dumb, weird-looking..." Wilros mutters all sorts of gibes at these arachnids before quickly, but casually removing himself from the center of the battlefield. He's about thirty feet away from one of the spiders when he lets an arrow loose, aiming for an eye. It hits ending the creature's life. "Ridding the world of disgusting horrors, one arrow at a time..."
Galmr laughs again as the spiders appear, a hearty sound as he fearlessly begins the attack on a spider closest to him. "Ah! Sneaky little bugger, aren't you?!" The Spider presses its advantage and bites the large man, "Ah! Feisty!"
ST:
The masses of spiders begin to assail our crew, biting and gnashing, clacking their mandibles and being a general threat to all in the vicinity. The battle rages on, with the cries of the warriors drowning out much of what goes on in the forest beyond the clearing, though the sound of the fire's roar is still prominant on lazy winds. There are sounds from the spiders, odd hisses, strange screeching insanity, the various other skin-crawling inducing things that come with beasts of this nature. Those mandibles crush armour, piercing through leather, a venomous pulse rushing through those that they manage to get ahold of, coursing through their bodies, though everyone seems to shake off the sickening effects with little problem.
Virton and Myaris will note something on the breeze, however:
It's whistling. Frantic whistling, that sounds -alike- a bird, but different. As the battle wages, they may begin to piece together that the others, too far back to get here in time, are trying to warn them, and with no small measure of panic. There is clearly something that has gone wrong, and they're doing everything they can to alert their hired help before it's too late.
From the canopy comes something ... new.
Monstrously bulbous bodies and long, segmented legs moving almost as though independent of the host as they descend from above with all the calculated, glacial calm of something not right. From its body, the carapace broken in places, oozing from the gaps, fall droplets of what seem to be blood. Upon further inspection, those with keen vision detect an oddity; it is not blood, at all, but a swarm of smaller spiders, those same brightly coloured creatures, landing and scampering toward the group in what quickly becomes a moving blanket of legs and colour flecks in a sea of black, moving in unity. Two of these massive beasts with glowing red and oh-so-plentiful eyes come, pacing onward, ever so slowly at first, like they hadn't actually noticed what was going on. Until, of course, they make a break for the party, moving at some ungodly pace with the rigidity only the most alien of insects might manage.
The whistling from beyond the veil grows in pitch.
It's too late.
"Thanks, fella," Virton buzzes at Hun'rar as he lunges in, more than happy to allow the fellow to take on the brunt of the angry spider. His head cranes up as the monstrously huge figure of a spider comes slamming down to the ground, and Virton does the only thing that honestly makes sense at that exact moment in time.
He shoots it. With a giant red laser weapon. His shoulder-cannon has been upgraded, that is most obvious, considering now instead of a bolt of electricity that goes sparking out in all its fury, it's a singular beam of red NOPE fired at the bulbous figure. *Zzzzap!*
Hun'rar turns to face the new threat, undead spiders. This only causes the knight to grin however. "Gilead be praised! This will be a grand day!" he says with enthusiasm. He steps up to the spider, raising his sword high as it first glows with a purple arcane energy followed by a green holy flame before he brings it down in an enormous miss on the monster.
It was all well and good, nothing that would not be handled with enough time and proper combat discipline. You know, until the bigger ones rush in bleeding SPIDERS. "... Okay, this is a bit worse than undead." Ikavod mutters and moves to take a short step back to brace and skewer the oncoming abomination but a scattering of rocks pitches him off just enough to have to move to balace himself and in so doing he catches a rather hard to ignore stabbing into his thigh, righ through his leather breeches. The Giantborn's stoice-or-dour expression twisting as he vents the pain through a roar of strain. It does seem to shake up the Giantborn man as he nearly staggers and almost blindly lashes out with a low-hafted grip on his glaive that briefly wails as it passes through the air, only paused momentarily as it simply slashes through one of the smaller spiders and then clatters uselessly against the side of the larger, more-dead-er spider. He curses loudly but that's more about the ridiculous pain than the effectiveness of his lashing out blindly.
Myaris watches the spider she was fighting go down she turns and spies another one. She moves over and casts again just gettting off the spell without leaving herself open. Her hands glow again with that blackish green energy and then she touches the spider, the glow transferring to the spider and turning to acid which starts to eat at its flesh.
Ansrir grimaces as he gets wounded pretty harshly, but wants to smack down the spider that has been harassing him. A nice slash to it and then he presses his hands to himself as he chants a prayer for the power of his goddess to aide him in recovery before he steps back away from danger for the moment, to try and give himself a chance to recover some more.
Since the Spider decided to stay in Shagara's face...it was just asking for a beatdown. So Shagara gives it a fist and a boot to the head. Didn't like it a bit though.....
Galmr's grin never fades as he lifts his Earthbreaker into the air before it comes crashing down with a crunch on the creature's exoskeleton! "Ha! Which ugly skitter-bug is next to fall on Galmr's hammer?!" he asks, as he looks up with green eyes wide, seeking out the next of the creatures he'll be chasing down with intent to squish.
Wilros grins watching the warriors and adventurers maneuver around the monstrosities. All the while, he stands back safe and out of danger, unnoticed by these horrid abominations. Unnoticed until he fires off another arrow with deadly precision and skill. Ah, the bow's simple, but effective power. He whistles a little tune as he reaches into his quiver for another one.
ST:
Those massive arachnids move toward the most lush targets, their angry maws opening in some Predator spread, multiple mandibles splaying wide as they lurch inward to spear into Ansrir and Ikavod with all the malice a huge undead spider can manage.
Hint: It's quite a bit.
The spiders that spill from them drip like a trail of blood, pooling and sloshing about beneath the needly feet that carry their bulk onward, not quite to the warriors just yet, trailing behind the orbweavers' backside like the most mortifying bridal path anyone has ever seen. Blood trickles from around the mouths of the undead spiders, and the horde that spills from within drinks it in like some fine nectar, kept at bay by their unnatural hungers.
Meanwhile, the other large spiders go about their business of attacking the rest of the party, showing no signs of slowing, sent into a frenzy by the burning wood from which they were sent skittering, some cut down, others deftly avoiding their death, and so it goes, on and on. The nest of spiders is being brought to its hairy little knees, but the threat is still very much alive. They lash out at targets that seem more prone to their lesser fangs, shifting their attentions from the meatier combatants to go for the casting masses. Thankfully, it seems to be doing them very little good, as they're still being cut down.
"RRREEEE!" One shrieks as it begins to melt under the corrosive touch of Myaris, the hairs on its body sizzling away, adding that rank fragrance to the now-hot air. It is joined in its cacaphonous cry if anguish by one of the undead abominations as an arrow finds -just- the right spot, the massive creature turning with a complicated movement of limbs around the swarming critters to face the young fighter with those piercing eyes, so feverishly bright against the dark of its 'skin'. It hisses, and it becomes obvious that it has found its new target, still dripping with Ansrir's blood, spraying it everywhere with the sudden 'exhalation' from that many-pronged mouth.
With the rather amazing chop-down of the second of the giant undead spider monstrosities as it comes charging after Wilros, Virton hops back to ensure he doesn't get caught up in it's many limbs as it goes toppling to the ground. His shoulder cannon gives a 'BEEP' as it charges, and there's an audiable 'vruum' as the weapon discharges, sending a eye-hurting beam of red energy as it scores across the giant monster's flank.
Hun'rar slashes after the fleeing spider but starts feeling a bit ignored as he chases after another "Face me, creature!" he says swinging his purple glowing blade again at the spider, this time leaving a deep gast in its body. "There we go! Come prey, come feel the pain of the great hunter!"
Ansrir tries to take a swing as one of te creatures moves past him. Unfortunately, it throws him off balance and causes him to miss the swing he takes at the closer spider to him as he recovers. Of course, at least that same spider ended up missing him as well, so it all balanced out in the end. A quick moment to call on the Goddess' power to heal himself again after the beating he took earlier.
Myaris was going to attack the spider in front of her again and yet someone once again takes it down. She growls a little but there are others still. Too far to do what she was planning she calls on her energy and gestures speaking the words two form a blackish green ball of force in each hand which flies to each of the remaining spiders, striking but leaving them standing.
Amidst the pain and Ikavod's lack of focus Ikavod stumbles lightly to the side and catches movement in the coerner of his eye. There's a growl of effort from his throat as he rather simply drives the head of his glaive into Dwe2. "And -you- can sit and wait your turn." he says, ripping the weapon free, rather unaware of how dead the thing has become again. Redead? It is then he moves in with a light spin that catches air in the holes bored into the glaive. The sound is just a low hiss but as Ikavod takes his footing into a more rooted stance he whips the glaive up over his head where it whistles with varying pitch as he takes it in his other hand to keep the werapon spinning over his head. It's a sudden, sharp shriek of a sound that accompanies the sudden alteration of movement. The large, undead thellthing that nearly bit his leg off is the only reason that sound stops as its carapace is cut through and more spiders pour out of it. Some cling to the head of the spear as blood might and Ikavod rids it of them how he would the blood of anything. Whipping the weapon and slinging its adornment to the side.
Some color washes from Wilros' face as the huge creature comes after him. He almost starts to stumble backwards, a yelp narrowing escaping his lips...but the thing is dead before it can some much as touch him. "My heroes!" The young man lets out a nervous laugh before quickly regaining his composure as if there was never any threat to begin with. He was safe all along of course. Slightly more uneasy, he fires off another arrow...killing another one naturally.
Shagara was getting tired of fighting a spider. She kicked in its teeth, punched it between the eyes in that magical place where there was only eyes....and spin kicked it in the same spot. The spider went down after the second hit so Shagara stomped on it for good measure.
Whatever the battle, Galmr seems happy to be in the thick of it- a deep and rumbling laugh coming as he strikes at a creature as it passes- A solid hit. Soon, he's running after the big-bad with his earthcrusher raised. Swinging, only too miss the large creature as it shifts. "Sneaky, fel creature!" he says, still grinning like a loon, with spider bits all over his front and armor as he prepares for the next attack.
ST:
Somebody up there really likes Wilros.
As the massive spider comes charging through the fray toward the young warrior, the blades and hammers of his comrades take it down, and it shrieks another bloody cry as it tumbles forward over shattered limbs, sliding over the squelching bodies of the swarm that had pooled around it, the mash of their bodies riding up the carcass of the much larger beast in some oddly purplish goop that streaks along behind it with the momentum that carried it over them all. Its legs twitch and spasm, then curl under its rolled-over body, leaving one ugly corpse.
It stops in its glide across the gore-slicked ground a mere five feet from Wilros, dirt kicking up around it and showering him with dust before all is said and done.
The second abberant arachnid scuttles toward Virton after his lightning arcs over the momentarily-spasming form, drawing its attention much akin to the way Wilros had before. It lunges for the cowboy, snapping those mandibles in a tight clamp, eyes aglow with curiousity as it pulls back little more than a mouthful of cloth and dirt, which it unceremoniously spits out onto Virton's boots, clearly cursing its horrible misjudgement in distance.
If only it had been a huntsman breed.
The last of the living spiders is brought down, leaving the clearing littered with bodies, but one still remains -- dozens upon dozens of tiny ones swelling around it like a tide of poison, waiting for the first adventurer to set foot in its waters. Hun'rar seems the first to brave the depths, followed by Galmr, as those spiders begin to bite and sting, prying at skin as though they attempted to infest their body, wriggling into cracks in armour, some dying in the process, and others taking their place.
- Bweeeeee--WAK WAK*
Not the noise that Virton really needs to be hearing, as his Death-ray's battery begins leaking and discharging. The weapon's red beam of laser shoots off into the sky as Virton hurriedly attempts to pop out the offending battery and slot in a fresh one -- leaving him completely open to be torn into by the giant undead spider monster, shearing away armour and circuitry underneath.
Hun'rar is ready to strike the spiders but when facing the creaure he can do nothing more than raise his visor in time to spill the contents of his lunch all over the ground. Keeping his shield up, he takes a step back and tries to recover, enough to stop puking in any case.
Myaris is running out of targets to zap but there is still one and its one of the bigger ones. She gestures and speaks to summon forth two more of those blackish green orbs and they fly to strike it, hitting it solidly but its still up.
There really isn't must to be done short of felling the ... spiderblooded undead puppet-nightmare-thing. Ikavod goes to follow through on his previous strike but he only succeeds in swiping at a bad angle are his leg tries to give out on him. It takes the lot of his will but it keeps himself standing. Unfortunately he might not have the pleasure of making this one redead as much as he wanted to for the gaping wound it left in his thigh.
Bitten by spiders, Galmr's already pale form turns all the paler as he uses his massive Earthbreaker to steady himself. "Hoyboy..." he groans, as he hacks and shakes his head. "Oi. Like waking up after a morning of drinkin' too much.. but without the fun bits..." he is pale like a sheet, face slick with sweat as he struggles to keep himself from tossing all over the undead spider. He coughs again, before shaking his head and trying to get over his almost paralyzing nausea.
Now that her spider is dead, Shagara focuses her attention upon the big stinky spider. She uses the same technique as before, move up, and spin to hit with her sword. This time, she hacks off a leg.
Galmr takes a few steps backwards, before he finaly loses that battle with his stomach. NAsty.
Confident and a bit too bold, Wilros casually moves closer into the edge of the battle. There's only one left which means he gets the final kill. Just pull back the string and bathe in the glory. But he misses. The cocky little adolescent blinks for a moment before grumbling and hurriedly reaching for another arrow.
ST:
Stabbed, shot, scorched, and all those great things. It is unimpressed.
As it is unimpressed, it does what one might expect; it lashes out, again. As spiders continue to crawl and bite over those that have gotten too close, the mama of all spiders chomps into Virton properly this time, puncturing through his chassis in the chest in four seperate places, withdrawing as sparks and wires come firing out of there like chinese fireworks on some sort of holiday -- it's pretty, but it's dangerous.
With holes punched in him -- including probably another in his poncho, Virton staggers in a most human-like manner as he reels from the damage. One hand slaps a fresh battery back into the cannon on his shoulder as he recovers and braces himself, both hands reaching up to grasp the cannon and properly aim it at the giant undead spider. With an audiable 'ooum' and the scent of o-zone in the air, the weapon beeps once as it hits full charge, and then discharges with a violent static spark in the air.
The red beam impacts on the exoskeleton of the spider, burning through it before igniting the host of tiny spiders inside as it reduces the overall exoskeleton to ash, leaving the audiable 'pop' 'pop' of the smaller spiders bursting from the heat.
ST:
The whistling from before grows ever closer as the rangers rush through the forest toward the group, finally making it just in time to see the last of the awful things die, scorched to ash, nothing left of it, or the biting, poisonous things that have left many poisoned, wounded, or puking somewhere in the general vicinity.
Panting, they speak over one another, some in praise, others in surprise, even some apologetic. The general theme, however, is that they are relieved both that you are alive, and that these things are not.
"Our Druids contain the flames, and the webs will be handled. You have done well, and you have preserved this wilderness through your deeds. Return to our camp, and you will be mended, and fed by our people... you will be known as friends to us, adventurers. Consider your contract... more than complete, and know that the way is safe because of your aid. I ... did not think it such a good idea to request help from the city, of all things, but I am glad." His head bows and rises again.
The party is escorted back to camp as the webs are burnt away or torn down by the rangers, handled by the druids in the distance. There is an enormous feast, the bounty of the wood, and merrimaking for the rest of the evening -- for those that wish to stay the night before heading back, there are simple lodgings and folk more than happy to have a chat.
~ Fin