Someone is Bugging Me
You're a few miles south of a village, deep in the wilderness. You're headed toward a more mountainous region following a deer trail that threatens to cut out every five feet or so. The reason you're out here is that the village has been plagued by giant insects attacking their crops. It's a very straight-forward mission actually. The villagers even managed to track the bugs back to their lair for you... though they lost three good men in the process. Their directions were very clear. You follow the deer trail until you reach a cliff face and follow that further north until you reach a cave. The cave is the source of the insects, or at least their lair.
Randolf trundles along through the woods, shoving at foliage as he fumbles his way along the deer trail. "Giant sodding bugs. -Again-. Reos' bloody blue balls, what -is- it wi' this are an' the giant sodding -bugs-?" He grunts as a bit of foliage whaps back into his face, making his splutter as he scrabbles leaves out of his beard. "If only I'd known, I would've prepared some fireballs. Damn it. Lightnin' will have tae do, I'll warrant."
GAME: Randolf rolls survival: (16)+2: 18 GAME: Dolan rolls survival: (16)+7: 23
Rocky chuffs softly. "Bugs are crunchy. Big bugs are big crunch. Did they say what type of bug? Maybe is important."
GAME: Rocky rolls survival: (9)+6: 15
"Lightning'll kill bugs just fine, I bet." Dressed for the woods in a nondescript gray cloak, Dolan stumps along with the others. He is clearly more accustomed to city streets than to woods, but he seems to navigate well enough, a two-handed greatsword over his back. "The big ones aren't that bad, it's the ones that are too small to kill with a sword that I hate."
To Rocky, he adds, "If they're attacking crops, it's probably a grasshopper of some sort."
Barclaiigh leans in close as he walks with Porter, a pile of furs and hides makes the already-bulky Khazadi shaman seem even broader and heavier. One calloused palm resting against-- and occasionally patting-- the surly, sleepy, and mid-growth spurt black bear. His other hand holds his runed spear and makes use of it like a walking stick.
"Darned if I don't know yer sleepy, bud, but we're workin' t'day." Offers the druid with a healthy scritching accompaniment. The bear groans out a protest and leaves his snout low to the ground, swaying back and forth. Shy the steel-plated sith-makar, the bear is easily the heaviest member of the little group but remains just over three-feet tall at the shoulders (while on all-fours).
"Had more problems w'wild pigs'n goats than grasshoppers at the brewery," muses Bar, "but them locusts'll ruin a crop faster'n you can spit."
GAME: Barclaiigh rolls Survival: (8)+13: 21
Rocky chuffs again, eyeing the dark dark cave. A little dark is fine, but too much dark causes issues. True of most things, really.
Randolf trundles along. "Crickets, locusts, grasshoppers, ladybugs, spiders, crystalline scorpions... I've had about a gutful o' giant creepy-crawlies," he grumbles. He looks up as the cliff comes into view. "Well. Here we are, then! Let's--woah!" He draws up short as he spies the vines shrouding the cave mouth. "Careful, lads. That's no ordinary vine! That thing'll break yer neck if it gets hold of ye!"
Dolan, who'd also spotted the vine if the slither of the leather harness holding his blade dropping to the dirt is any indication, makes a face. "Yeah, I'd never actually seen one before, but we'd better take it out. Don't want to get caught between it and whatever is down there." He brings up the sword to a ready pose.
Rocky eyes the vine when it's pointed out, drawing a cold iron blade, big enough for two hands, but held in one, a green-tinged steel shield held in the other. "This one knows of such plants, but did not recognize this type."
"Sure 'nough," Barclaiigh agrees, hefting the spear up and taking a firm grip mid-haft. His rough hand runs down from Porter's shoulder and he rubs behind the bear's ear to get his attention. The druid's tone drops, speaking a clear 'protect' in Khazdul as he pats his chest. The animal's head comes up and he issues a huff of acknowledgement.
That done, Bar snags up his leather necklace of boar's tusks and raises them up to his lips, muttering. "('know y'ain't much fond'a caves, but's th'job...)" An incantation in the druidic cant follows and little torrents of wind begin to play around his simple, strappy sandals.
GAME: Barclaiigh casts Longstrider. Caster Level: 4 DC: 15 GAME: Barclaiigh rolls weapon7+2: (3)+7+2: 12 GAME: Barclaiigh rolls 1d20+10: (19)+10: 29 GAME: Barclaiigh rolls 1d8+9: (1)+9: 10 GAME: Barclaiigh rolls 1d20+14: (9)+14: 23 GAME: Randolf rolls 1d20+8: (9)+8: 17
"Git'er, boy!" Barclaiigh hollers, his strides practically bouncing off the ground as the natural magics enhance his gait. He might be a little over-enthusiastic, however, and ends up stumbling the last few steps and digging a trench into the stone floor. There's the squeal of metal-on-rock and the runic engravings on his weapon glow green but the vine remains unharmed!
Porter lopes in his wake, bounding ahead in a bobbing advance until he rears up to almost his full seven-feet. There's a bellowed challenge and the ornery bear takes the vine in its mouth. Teeth crunch and sap bleeds, the root system straining as the animal keeps its hold and lands back down on all fours.
GAME: Randolf rolls 1d8+2: (6)+2: 8 GAME: Rocky rolls weapon4+2: (20)+10+2: 32 (THREAT)
Randolf trundles forward alongside his dwarven comrade, pulling his battleaxe off his belt as he goes. He cocks his hand back and hurls the dwarf-forged steel with all his might. "HYARRRGH!" The axe whirls end-over end, chunking mightily into the vine's center mass. "Aye, how d'ye like -that-, ye bloody shrub!" he growls, grinning savagely. He clenches his fist and pulls it back, and his axe comes flying back into his grip, the edge now dripping with viney sap.
GAME: Rocky rolls weapon4+2: (8)+10+2: 20 GAME: Rocky rolls 2d10+8: (11)+8: 19
Rocky rumbles deep in his chest and joins the charge, large blade swinging low and chopping at the roots. The blade misses much of the vine itself, catching just the more delicate roots, causing major damage to the plants ability to move.
GAME: Rocky rolls weapon4+2: (2)+10+2: 14 GAME: Barclaiigh rolls weapon7+2: (7)+7+2: 16 GAME: Barclaiigh rolls 1d20+8: (1)+8: 9 (EPIC FAIL) GAME: Barclaiigh rolls 1d6+5: (6)+5: 11 GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d6+2: (3)+2: 5 GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d6+2: (4)+2: 6 GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d6+2: (3)+2: 5
As the dangerous vine falls to the ground inert, the sound of rumbling can be heard from within the cave. Rather than dodge out of the way however, the three standing in front of the cave attack as a trio of rolling insects come barreling out of the cavern and slam into them. The impact makes a meaty thump, and the insects unfurl hissing as their green chitin sparkles in the failing sunlight.
GAME: Dolan rolls survival+2: (11)+7+2: 20 GAME: Rocky rolls damage4: aliased to 1d10+4: (5)+4: 9 GAME: Dolan rolls weapon1-1: (2)+5+-1: 6 GAME: Barclaiigh rolls weapon7-1: (4)+7+-1: 10 GAME: Barclaiigh rolls 1d20+8: (12)+8: 20 GAME: Barclaiigh rolls 1d20+3: (10)+3: 13 GAME: Barclaiigh rolls 1d20+3: (17)+3: 20
"Those aren't normal insects!" Dolan shouts, leaping forward and slamming the massive blade down towards the nearest of the insects. Sadly, the strike is not well-aimed, and he nearly stumbles in his haste, the blade slamming into the dirt well clear of the creature. "Look at 'em, they've got the legs of a centipede and a mouth like a mantis. Someone made these, and I'd bet on them being poisonous! Too bad you didn't have those fire spells!" he shouts at Randolf. "Damn it, hold still."
GAME: Barclaiigh rolls 1d20+12: (9)+12: 21
Barclaiigh raises the spear in a two-handed cross to try and ward off the press of the mismatched insects. There's a surprised expression complete with 'o'-shaped mouth and lifted caterpillar eyebrows aimed over at Dolan. Then he's turning back to the business at hand and trying to spear the beast he'd already wounded. Porter's mass checks him into a brief stumble and spoils his aim, causing him to miss!
The black bear, meanwhile, roars a second challenge and rumbles a growl. He was told to defend and defend he does! A vicious bite cripples the vermin and then a swiping paw bats it back into the darkness of the cave. There's a satisfied hum when the broken thing doesn't get back up.
GAME: Rocky rolls weapon4: (17)+10: 27 GAME: Rocky rolls weapon4: (7)+10: 17 GAME: Rocky rolls damage4: aliased to 1d10+4: (5)+4: 9 GAME: Rocky rolls damage4: aliased to 1d10+4: (4)+4: 8
Rocky chuffs. The giant bugs aren't normal. Really not a surprise. The armored sith swings his blade, sped by magics, drawing a spray of ichor. "If they are poisonous, just do not bite them. If they bite you, worry if are venomous."
GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d20+2: (16)+2: 18 GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d20+2: (4)+2: 6 GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d6+1: (1)+1: 2
Randolf's eyes widen as those strange chimaeric bugs come rolling their way out. "Well... that's -one- way tae get 'round, I'll warrant," he says. "But how 'bout some o' this?!" He pulls his wand and sweeps it grandiosely, indicating all his comrades (both two and four-footed). "RE EX RAYA ZOS ALLEGROS! HAH!" He snaps his wand out, and everyone is treated to a ghostly rotating clock face rising above their heads, the hands spinning swiftly before vanishing. "There ye go lads, make it count!" he calls as he turns to face the insectoid threat.
There's a thudding sound. The ground quakes under your feet as you fight the strange green centipeds. The creatures lash out angrily, and Porter gets a small cut from one in retribution for the damage he's done in turn.
GAME: Barclaiigh rolls 1d20+6: (11)+6: 17 GAME: Dolan rolls weapon1-1: (15)+5+-1: 19 GAME: Dolan rolls 2d6+4+2: (8)+4+2: 14 GAME: Barclaiigh rolls 1d20+8: (3)+8: 11 GAME: Barclaiigh rolls 1d20+3: (13)+3: 16 GAME: Barclaiigh rolls 1d20+3: (17)+3: 20 GAME: Barclaiigh rolls 1d6+3: (5)+3: 8 GAME: Barclaiigh rolls 1d6+3: (6)+3: 9 GAME: Barclaiigh rolls weapon7-1: (6)+7+-1: 12 GAME: Barclaiigh rolls weapon7-1+1: (8)+7+-1+1: 15 GAME: Barclaiigh rolls 1d20+8+1: (20)+8+1: 29 GAME: Barclaiigh rolls 1d20+8+1: (1)+8+1: 10 (EPIC FAIL)
_Let's try that again._ Dolan lifts the blade again, and this time the huge, sharpened hunk of metal lands squarely on the juncture between two sections of the thing's body, severing it quite neatly and leaving a sickly green ichor to seep into the dirt.
GAME: Barclaiigh rolls 1d6+5: (6)+5: 11 GAME: Barclaiigh rolls 1d8+9: (1)+9: 10 GAME: Randolf casts Haste. Caster Level: 7 DC: 17 GAME: Randolf casts Mage Armor. Caster Level: 7 DC: 15
Bar's tiny eyes narrow suspiciously when the world seems to slow down around him and the resistance on his movement is decreased. Not one to argue with a bit of outside-assistance, he offers to full-length thrusts and manages to spear the hodgepodge critter but good through its carapace.
Its movement restricted, the mantipede can only squirm as Porter sets into the vermin kebab. Practically a blur of fur, teeth, and claws, the bear quickly reduces the animal to broken bits of husk and spread-around mush.
Randolf watches as his comrades make short work of the bugs, grinning huge and pumping his fist. "Yeah! That's the way of it! Good work, lads! Ye got--" His grin becomes a horrified 'O' as his good humor dies. Feeling those tremors under his boots, his eyes get wide as teacups. Sloooowly he turns to face the cave, gulping noisily. "Oh, piss up my -arse-," he grunts, lifting his wand and sketching a quick pattern out. "Re ex re su scutus!" His hexagonal sphere whirls around him, granting him mystic protections. His personal defense seen to, he turns his wand on the cave. "Maybe it's just one really -big- one," he says with another gulp.
GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d20+2: (9)+2: 11
Rocky pauses a moment as the last visible bug falls, and eyes the cave. Whatever comes, he'll face it head on. Roaring a challenge, acid spittle flies, sizzling as it hits rock and pools of ichor.
GAME: Rocky rolls 1d6: (1): 1 GAME: Rocky rolls reflex: (12)+3: 15 GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d4+2: (2)+2: 4 GAME: Dolan rolls reflex: (16)+1: 17 GAME: Barclaiigh rolls Reflex: (19)+3: 22 GAME: Barclaiigh rolls 1d20+6: (12)+6: 18
As you clean up the last of the bugs a figure takes form from the darkness, barreling slowly toward you. It sprays a wave of acid in response to Rocky, and most of the group is bathed in the stinging stuff in spite of efforts to evade it. It's a mere irritant compared to the mass before you however which looks like a much larger version of the other insects except maybe mixed with a beetle of some kind.
GAME: Dolan rolls weapon1+1-1: (5)+5+1+-1: 10 GAME: Dolan rolls weapon1+1-1: (7)+5+1+-1: 12
Dolan throws up an arm in reflex as acid spillte sprays everywhere, and only a few droplets hit anything but the cloak - but that's quite enough, the burning and stinging just enough to let him know it's there- and remind him of the last time he'd felt acid. Suddenly, the sword turns to lead in his hands, and while he slams wildly at it in an effort to take it down quickly, they are ill-placed blows that do no more than slide off the carapace. "Damn you!"
GAME: Barclaiigh rolls weapon7-1+1: (8)+7+-1+1: 15 GAME: Barclaiigh rolls weapon7-1+1: (13)+7+-1+1: 20 GAME: Barclaiigh rolls 1d20+8+1: (15)+8+1: 24 GAME: Barclaiigh rolls 1d20+3+1: (20)+3+1: 24 GAME: Barclaiigh rolls 1d20+3+1: (4)+3+1: 8 GAME: Barclaiigh rolls 1d20+8+1: (7)+8+1: 16 GAME: Barclaiigh rolls 1d20+12: (12)+12: 24 GAME: Barclaiigh rolls 1d6+5+3: (5)+5+3: 13 GAME: Barclaiigh rolls 1d8+9: (5)+9: 14 GAME: Barclaiigh rolls 1d6+3: (4)+3: 7 GAME: Randolf rolls 1d20+5: (5)+5: 10 GAME: Randolf rolls 1d20+5: (3)+5: 8 GAME: Randolf rolls 4d6: (18): 18 GAME: Randolf rolls 4d6: (13): 13
Barclaiigh follows in behind Dolan, his mind wandering to a recent adventure and the third of their number calling after the one-eyed man. Thankfully, the battle is thick enough that no one will notice his blushing. "Mind th'goo!" Shouts the auburn-haired dwarf, ducking in and stabbing twice. The enchanted speartip bounces off the creature's thick carapace the first time but finds a chink the second.
Close-behind, Porter bounds in. His maw finds an anchor point again and he pulls the creature lower to the ground. Without giving up his grip he batters the animal. Paws thump and claws rake, cracking away chitinous hide and drawing out ichor.
Randolf shimmies left and right, trying to find an opening that will let him unleash electrical vengeance. But all his comrades are in the way. "Gaaaah -damn it-!" he growls. He flicks up his wand and takes painstaking aim. "RE EX RE ANTU AKH ASCORIUS!" A twin parallel of searing orange light fires from his wand. FSSHEWWW! He rakes them across the giant insectoid's carapace, scorching deep grooves into the chitin. "HAH! GOTCHA!" he booms with a grin, pumping his fist excitedly.
GAME: Rocky rolls weapon4+1: (1)+10+1: 12 (EPIC FAIL) GAME: Rocky rolls weapon4+1: (3)+10+1: 14
Rocky blinks away the return acid, unharmed, but slightly disgusted. Raising his blade high, the Warrior Caste strikes with magical speed, cracking against chitin, but failing to penetrate to the gooey innards.
GAME: Randolf casts Scorching Ray. Caster Level: 7 DC: 16 GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d20+8: (12)+8: 20 GAME: Aftershock rolls 2d8+6: (8)+6: 14
The giant insect manages to grasp ahold of the bear and clamp its pincers around its massive head. Blood pours down from the vicious cuts that the hold inspires in the poor animal, and the insect only continues to worry at the wound, shaking its head viciously back and forth. Apparently it's VERY unhappy.
GAME: Dolan rolls weapon1+1-1: (9)+5+1+-1: 14 GAME: Dolan rolls weapon1+1-1: (11)+5+1+-1: 16
Still Dolan's blade struggles to find purchase, despite his shout of "Get its attention before it kills the bear!" and a second, desperate attempt to slam into the thing.
GAME: Barclaiigh rolls 1d20+12+5: (9)+12+5: 26 GAME: Barclaiigh rolls 1d20+12+5: (20)+12+5: 37 GAME: Barclaiigh rolls weapon7+1-1: (12)+7+1+-1: 19 GAME: Barclaiigh rolls weapon7+1-1: (15)+7+1+-1: 22 GAME: Barclaiigh rolls 1d6+5+3: (2)+5+3: 10 GAME: Barclaiigh rolls 1d6+5+3: (6)+5+3: 14
Wounded and bloody, Porter maintains his hold on the thrashing bug, accepting yet another vicious wound and growling out past the insectoid mouthful. With a mighty heave of his hind legs, the bear pushes the critter onto its back, landing with his weight atop it.
Barclaiigh spins the spear around in his grip, leaning back and delivering two heavy, downward stabs into the creature's underbelly. There's a death spasm on the second blow and the animal goes limp.
GAME: Barclaiigh used a Potion of Cure Light Wounds. GAME: Barclaiigh rolls 1d8+1: (8)+1: 9
Rocky chuffs, nodding in respect to the bear, before peering at the cave. "Should check, might be eggs, or young. Or maybe treasure."
When the thing finally drops, Dolan shakes himself and lowers the point of the sword. "That was nasty." Rocky's point gets his attention. "Yeah. Let's go find out."
GAME: Dolan casts Light. Caster Level: 1 DC: 13
Porter won't release his grip until he's sure the animal won't rise. With one last grunt his maw closes entirely and the vermin's head falls slack, dangling from the tiniest bit of cracked carapace to swing just above the ground. Coughing out the unwanted meat, the bear issues a wine and stumbles, slumping down and raising a hind leg to hide the wound.
Wood and steel clatter to the ground, his spear forgotten as Bar rushes over to his boy. There's a 'fwoonk' when he corks a potion and muttered Khazdul when he peels back the bear's hanging lip and pushes his teeth open to accept the tincture. "You done good, Porter. Stout's any bear... 'n'n the middle'a yer sleepin' season, too." The druid's small eyes narrow as he watches the bleeding stop and the wound closing.
"Remain." The Khazadi wildman orders, his tone lowering once more, and then he's grabbing up his spear and hustling after the others... <khazdul>
GAME: Dolan rolls perception: (10)+7: 17 GAME: Barclaiigh rolls Perception: (20)+11: 31 GAME: Randolf rolls perception: (7)+8: 15 GAME: Rocky rolls perception: (17)+6: 23
The inside of the cave holds Rocky's first guess. Eggs. Thousands of them. So. Many. Eggs. All bristling and shining with insect larva. Waiting to hatch. Golden eggs that shimmer in the light provided by Dolan. It'll take you hours to get rid of them all, and you still have no idea what or whom made these insects.
Barclaiigh however finds an unusual item amid the remains of the eggs and various debris. A carving of some sort of humanoid figure mid-transformation. It has an eerie vibe to it. Like something that is better off left alone.
GAME: Dolan rolls knowledge/religion: (17)+5: 22 GAME: Randolf rolls Knowledge/Religion: (14)+6: 20 GAME: Rocky rolls knowledge/religion: (11)+2: 13
"Well, that's jus' unpleasant, inn't?" Grunts the druid, standing back up with the vile idol on display. "Dang hideous," he reinforces.
Randolf squints against the magical light as his field of view wavers between his natural darkvision and light-spectrum vision. But that squint goes wide as teacups as he sees all those eggs. So. Many. Eggs. He leans in close to stare at one. "Beards o' me fath--EYAAAGH!" He startes back as the larva inside twitches, as if responding to his voice. He holds his wand on the thing, gasping for breath. "Lads?!" he cries in a strangled tone. "What say I throw a bloody -fireball- in here? Eh? What're we thinkin'?"
Rocky chuffs, and nods. "Maybe everyone outside before fire."
Dolan, who had been busy crushing eggs as he found them by the light of the sword between his hands, called with a swift prayer to Daeus just before they entered, looks up. He stops, and rests the blade over one shoulder to offer better light by which to study the thing. "Yeah. I-" He stops short at Randolf's shout. "Thought you didn't memorize it today. Anyway....shit, that makes me think Caracoroth. I couldn't swear to that, though it'd damn sure fit, twisted stuff like that? We better take that back, maybe Andie or one of my superiors'll know."
"Been making friendly with the local grove," Barclaiigh offers, turning his lip at the object when Dolan informs him of its significance. "Figger I can take it t'them? The Ygdrig... iggydig... drigdazzle... iggledy-draggle.. YGGDRIZZLE union." He finally manages with a huff.
The shaman just about turns and throws the carving away but he drops it into a pouch instead after wrapping it in an old cloak that's become a picnic blanket. "Them there don't like Caca-coroth none'n our lot'r apposed t'fight them sorts of abominations."
Randolf peers at the vile idol that Bar discovers. He wrinkles his nose, then hawks and spits noisily. "Aye, it -does- look a wee bit like one o' Caracoroth's vile images," he growls. "I'm nae touchin' that filthy thing." He looks back to Dolan. "I still have me arcanima reserve. I can use it fer a fireball. Only works once per day, but..." He sweeps his wand out to indicate the vast array of eggs. "Think I'd rather get 'em all in one fell swoop. Some of 'em might -hatch- while we're still squishin' 'em! An' I've already ruined -one- pair o' boots this week as it is."
"Then let's do it." Dolan nods firmly st Randolf. "Take that with us. Yeah, they might know, but maybe both ought to see that. That's foul as all of the Iron Hells. Let's blow this place and get out of here."
Rocky nods. "Fry eggs now, crush idol later."
"Plenty'a options," Barclaiigh agrees, dragging his fingers down through the chaotic puff of his wavy-hair beard. He pads on ahead and gives Porter a scritch, giving the 'keep to' command in Khazdul. The bear rises slowly but intact and they both move out into the open air again.
"Got a rockstorm ready, too, if we're lookin' t'make double-sure. Ain't impressive as no fireball, though but the farmers might like the extra bit'a icin' on their piece'a minds cake."
Randolf turns to lumber out of the cavern, digging his pipe out of his pocket as he goes. He fills and tamps the bowl, pausing at the cave mouth to conjure a spark of flame to light the tobacco. After puffing a hearty glow to life in the bowl, he snaps his wand back behind himself. "Re ex raya INCARDO INFLAMATAE!" A bead of bright glowing blew fires from the tip of his wand. P-tewww! It streaks into the cave... FWOOOM! A great ball of orange flame flares to life, whirling around the cave's innards. The eggs cook instantly under the cataclysmic heat, bursting and splattering their awful contents all over. "Hrmph." Randolf lumbers away, puffing hard at his pipe. He doesn't look back. "Rockslide away, kinsman," he grunts to Bar.
Dolan had been quick to exit when Randolf made clear that he could incinerate the place, and now waits well outside and to one side. He is also careful to rescue the boiled-leather harness and its straps from just outside the exit on the way out. While Randolf casts, he finds a patch of grass on which to clean his blade, and reassembled over his back for travel. "Let's get out of here," he says once the *foom* is complete.
Barclaiigh grins his guileless grin and steps up once the worst of the heat has belched from the mouth of the cave. Porter stays close to his side, the pair leaning into one another while the dwarf gives reassuring pats.
The druid takes a moment to mutter at his boars'-tusk fetish again and then waves his hands through the air. The wind picks up, gusting into the mouth of a cave in a tight vortex. Stones and scree and dirt rocket through the air in a spiral to batter and bludgeon the remains of the eggs before falling in a shower to bury the lot.
"Got'r done," he grins, patting his traveling companion again and trotting after the remainder of their quintet.
GAME: Barclaiigh casts Stone Call. Caster Level: 4 DC: 16
-End