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<blockquote data-quote="the Jester" data-source="post: 7578233" data-attributes="member: 1210"><p>Drolc and Scotty awaken aching from the blows of the Pan Lung monks. They slept at Scotty's house, aware that they were in no shape for adventure. And yet... Drolc's dim mind ponders his missing friends. He wants to help, but... well... where are they?</p><p></p><p>Over breakfast and bean juice*, Scotty inquires, “Why the long face, Drolc?”</p><p></p><p>“Huh?” Drolc looks at him blankly.</p><p></p><p>“You look sad,” Scotty elaborates. </p><p></p><p>“Oh. Sorry. Friends missing. Drolc wants to find.”</p><p></p><p>“Okay, sounds good. We'll see what we can do.”</p><p></p><p>Drolc rises, pushing his chair back. </p><p></p><p>“After we finish breakfast,” Scotty expands. He takes a sip. “And our bean juice.”</p><p></p><p>***</p><p></p><p>The problem, it turns out, is that Drolc doesn't know where his friends are. That's why they are missing. He suspects strongly that they went out adventuring, but his dim mind overlooks the most obvious possibility- Marble Hall- and his lack of ability to communicate sophisticated ideas (such as “I have no idea where they are”) soon results in him leading Scotty on a wandering path following the river south of Fandelose. </p><p></p><p>When they are accosted by a hungry bear, Drolc drives it off without difficulty. But no sign of his friends. </p><p></p><p>Frowning, he continues to follow the river. </p><p></p><p>Under the water, green eyes take note of the two adventurers. </p><p></p><p>***</p><p></p><p>“For gods' sake. Would you freaking <em>hurry up?</em>”</p><p></p><p>“I don't want to miss anything,” Rorin objects, sawing open the gut of another zombie. </p><p></p><p>Hungus heaves a sigh. </p><p></p><p>“You never know,” Rorin adds. “I've heard stories.”</p><p></p><p>“Yeah, it might have treasure inside of it if it's a monster that eats people whole,” Dzedz grumbles. “But these are zombies.”</p><p></p><p>“You never know,” the Butcher of Fandelose repeats. </p><p></p><p>***</p><p></p><p>Eventually, Rorin finishes with the grisly business of eviscerating the rotting intestines from the undead that the party defeated. It's a process that is both slow and foul-smelling. When he is done, his arms and the front of his body are coated in odoriferous black goop. </p><p></p><p>“No luck,” he announces.</p><p></p><p>“That's really gross,” says Dzedz.</p><p></p><p>“He's saying that, and he's a dwarf,” Hungus points out. “I really don't think we should wait for you to do that again. Especially because you're not going to find anything.” </p><p></p><p>“Hey, you get an even share of anything you find.”</p><p></p><p>“An even share of nothing, after an hour of stench,” replies Hungus.</p><p></p><p>“Fine. Don't wait around next time, and I'll keep whatever I find.”</p><p></p><p>“Let's just get moving,” Dzedz sighs.</p><p></p><p>They do, cautiously advancing into further unknown territory of the megadungeon. Before they have been moving for two minutes, they are ambushed by a pair of giant spiders, but the fangs of the monsters can't get through Hungus' and Dzedz's armor, and the adventurers put the beasts down in a few blows. Continuing along, they find a chamber that contains gigantic bats giving off ear-splitting shrieks, and shut the door and try a different direction.</p><p></p><p>The architecture is far rougher around here than they have seen previously; rather than the unnaturally smooth walls they have seen above, these caverns are rough-hewn. Some even appear to be a mix of pre-existing natural caves and rough stonework. Dzedz can't identify the authors of the architecture, but disdainfully notes, “It's crude work. Either it's rough because it was never finished, or it's just really half-assed.” Fungus grows plentifully, and here and there, water trickles down a wall or across the floor. </p><p></p><p>“I bet all this fungus is what keeps these things down here fed,” Dzedz comments. “It could probably support a pretty big-”</p><p></p><p>At that point, a gang of eight figures comes into view. They are upright, humanoid in form, but feathered. There heads sport cruel beaks; they are obviously some sort of wingless bird.**</p><p></p><p>And they rush forward, squawking and tearing at the three hapless adventurers, who set out to defend themselves as best they can. Hungus' maul splatters bird brains about, while Dzedz casts <em>shocking pulse</em> to deliver several small explosions that knock several of the bird-creatures from their feet. Rorin's arrows seems to grow from bird throats and breasts with remarkable speed. Soon, most of the birds are dead, and the remaining ones flee down an adjoining passageway.</p><p></p><p>“How's everybody doing?” asks Rorin. </p><p></p><p>“Wounded,” Hungus says, wincing. “But standing.”</p><p></p><p>“Likewise,” Dzedz agrees. “I could use a short rest.”</p><p></p><p>The others agree. Hungus plants the head of his maul at his feet and leans against the wall with a sigh. The dwarf wizard sits down cross legged. Rorin keeps an eye out for trouble. Given a little time undisturbed, the three of them can regain a little steam and then continue looking for an egress point. </p><p></p><p>Unfortunately, the bird folk don't give them the time. Seven of them find our heroes, and interrupt their attempt to rest rather dramatically, with loud screeches and a charge that sees Hungus forced to expend the last of his ability to <em>lay on hands</em> to keep himself conscious. </p><p></p><p>When the fight is over, Rorin cocks his head and declares, “There are more of them. I can hear them.” </p><p></p><p>“We aren't going to get an hour.” Dzedz grimaces. </p><p></p><p>The three have a quick discussion- try to hold this chamber (which has multiple entrances) against all comers, or find somewhere better to rest? There isn't a good option behind them; most of the places that they have passed through have had multiple ways in and out of them. </p><p></p><p>“We need to keep looking for a way out,” Dzedz says. </p><p></p><p>“If we run into more monsters, it could be trouble,” Hungus warns. “I'm pretty hurt already.”</p><p></p><p>“I'm not in the best shape, but if you can keep them off of me, I can keep blowing them up.”</p><p></p><p>Rorin says, “I'm in pretty good shape. I can tank for a while.” He draws his sword. “I'm not as good in the front as I am with a bow, but I should be good enough.”</p><p></p><p>“All right. I guess I'll back you up, then.” Hungus grips his maul. </p><p></p><p>“And I'll take the rear.” Dzedz assumes his position. </p><p></p><p>They advance again- and to their relief, they soon find a stairway heading up.</p><p></p><p>*** </p><p></p><p>“Hello there.” </p><p></p><p>The dwarf hasn't drawn his axe, but his hand is near it. </p><p></p><p>“Uh, hello,” says Scotty.</p><p></p><p>“Friend?” Drolc asks hopefully. </p><p></p><p>The dwarf looks at them dubiously. Scotty and Drolc are pretty rough-looking. They just emerged from the shrubbery along the riverside, pushing their way into his small (and relatively hidden) camp. On top of that, one of them is a half-orc. </p><p></p><p>“We intend you no harm,” Scotty says, holding his open hands out. “We didn't know you were here. Sorry.”</p><p></p><p>“All right,” the dwarf shrugs, letting his hand drop away from the handle of his weapon. “No harm done.” He squints at them, keeping his gaze on Drolc for a few extra moments.”</p><p></p><p>“Drolc be friend,” Drolc says. Then his jabs his thumb at his chest and repeats, “Drolc.”</p><p></p><p>“Kriv,” the dwarf answers, pointing to himself. </p><p></p><p>“And I'm Scotty- Scotty Beandelver.”</p><p></p><p>The dwarf nods curtly, continuing to appraise them with his eyes. “From the looks of you, I take it you're adventurers.”</p><p></p><p>“Looking for friends,” Drolc says. </p><p></p><p>Kriv frowns. “Friends?”</p><p></p><p>Scotty elaborates, “His adventuring companions are missing. I guess he thinks they're out here or something?”</p><p></p><p>“Well, there's nothing out here but-” Kriv is interrupted by splashing.</p><p></p><p>And then a voice, mellifluous and sweet, like running water. “Oh please, help!”</p><p></p><p><em><strong>Next Time:</strong></em> Things don't go so well!</p><p></p><p></p><p>*Coffee, if you don't already know that.</p><p></p><p>**Dire corbies, from the 1e Fiend Folio, for the record.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="the Jester, post: 7578233, member: 1210"] Drolc and Scotty awaken aching from the blows of the Pan Lung monks. They slept at Scotty's house, aware that they were in no shape for adventure. And yet... Drolc's dim mind ponders his missing friends. He wants to help, but... well... where are they? Over breakfast and bean juice*, Scotty inquires, “Why the long face, Drolc?” “Huh?” Drolc looks at him blankly. “You look sad,” Scotty elaborates. “Oh. Sorry. Friends missing. Drolc wants to find.” “Okay, sounds good. We'll see what we can do.” Drolc rises, pushing his chair back. “After we finish breakfast,” Scotty expands. He takes a sip. “And our bean juice.” *** The problem, it turns out, is that Drolc doesn't know where his friends are. That's why they are missing. He suspects strongly that they went out adventuring, but his dim mind overlooks the most obvious possibility- Marble Hall- and his lack of ability to communicate sophisticated ideas (such as “I have no idea where they are”) soon results in him leading Scotty on a wandering path following the river south of Fandelose. When they are accosted by a hungry bear, Drolc drives it off without difficulty. But no sign of his friends. Frowning, he continues to follow the river. Under the water, green eyes take note of the two adventurers. *** “For gods' sake. Would you freaking [i]hurry up?[/i]” “I don't want to miss anything,” Rorin objects, sawing open the gut of another zombie. Hungus heaves a sigh. “You never know,” Rorin adds. “I've heard stories.” “Yeah, it might have treasure inside of it if it's a monster that eats people whole,” Dzedz grumbles. “But these are zombies.” “You never know,” the Butcher of Fandelose repeats. *** Eventually, Rorin finishes with the grisly business of eviscerating the rotting intestines from the undead that the party defeated. It's a process that is both slow and foul-smelling. When he is done, his arms and the front of his body are coated in odoriferous black goop. “No luck,” he announces. “That's really gross,” says Dzedz. “He's saying that, and he's a dwarf,” Hungus points out. “I really don't think we should wait for you to do that again. Especially because you're not going to find anything.” “Hey, you get an even share of anything you find.” “An even share of nothing, after an hour of stench,” replies Hungus. “Fine. Don't wait around next time, and I'll keep whatever I find.” “Let's just get moving,” Dzedz sighs. They do, cautiously advancing into further unknown territory of the megadungeon. Before they have been moving for two minutes, they are ambushed by a pair of giant spiders, but the fangs of the monsters can't get through Hungus' and Dzedz's armor, and the adventurers put the beasts down in a few blows. Continuing along, they find a chamber that contains gigantic bats giving off ear-splitting shrieks, and shut the door and try a different direction. The architecture is far rougher around here than they have seen previously; rather than the unnaturally smooth walls they have seen above, these caverns are rough-hewn. Some even appear to be a mix of pre-existing natural caves and rough stonework. Dzedz can't identify the authors of the architecture, but disdainfully notes, “It's crude work. Either it's rough because it was never finished, or it's just really half-assed.” Fungus grows plentifully, and here and there, water trickles down a wall or across the floor. “I bet all this fungus is what keeps these things down here fed,” Dzedz comments. “It could probably support a pretty big-” At that point, a gang of eight figures comes into view. They are upright, humanoid in form, but feathered. There heads sport cruel beaks; they are obviously some sort of wingless bird.** And they rush forward, squawking and tearing at the three hapless adventurers, who set out to defend themselves as best they can. Hungus' maul splatters bird brains about, while Dzedz casts [i]shocking pulse[/i] to deliver several small explosions that knock several of the bird-creatures from their feet. Rorin's arrows seems to grow from bird throats and breasts with remarkable speed. Soon, most of the birds are dead, and the remaining ones flee down an adjoining passageway. “How's everybody doing?” asks Rorin. “Wounded,” Hungus says, wincing. “But standing.” “Likewise,” Dzedz agrees. “I could use a short rest.” The others agree. Hungus plants the head of his maul at his feet and leans against the wall with a sigh. The dwarf wizard sits down cross legged. Rorin keeps an eye out for trouble. Given a little time undisturbed, the three of them can regain a little steam and then continue looking for an egress point. Unfortunately, the bird folk don't give them the time. Seven of them find our heroes, and interrupt their attempt to rest rather dramatically, with loud screeches and a charge that sees Hungus forced to expend the last of his ability to [i]lay on hands[/i] to keep himself conscious. When the fight is over, Rorin cocks his head and declares, “There are more of them. I can hear them.” “We aren't going to get an hour.” Dzedz grimaces. The three have a quick discussion- try to hold this chamber (which has multiple entrances) against all comers, or find somewhere better to rest? There isn't a good option behind them; most of the places that they have passed through have had multiple ways in and out of them. “We need to keep looking for a way out,” Dzedz says. “If we run into more monsters, it could be trouble,” Hungus warns. “I'm pretty hurt already.” “I'm not in the best shape, but if you can keep them off of me, I can keep blowing them up.” Rorin says, “I'm in pretty good shape. I can tank for a while.” He draws his sword. “I'm not as good in the front as I am with a bow, but I should be good enough.” “All right. I guess I'll back you up, then.” Hungus grips his maul. “And I'll take the rear.” Dzedz assumes his position. They advance again- and to their relief, they soon find a stairway heading up. *** “Hello there.” The dwarf hasn't drawn his axe, but his hand is near it. “Uh, hello,” says Scotty. “Friend?” Drolc asks hopefully. The dwarf looks at them dubiously. Scotty and Drolc are pretty rough-looking. They just emerged from the shrubbery along the riverside, pushing their way into his small (and relatively hidden) camp. On top of that, one of them is a half-orc. “We intend you no harm,” Scotty says, holding his open hands out. “We didn't know you were here. Sorry.” “All right,” the dwarf shrugs, letting his hand drop away from the handle of his weapon. “No harm done.” He squints at them, keeping his gaze on Drolc for a few extra moments.” “Drolc be friend,” Drolc says. Then his jabs his thumb at his chest and repeats, “Drolc.” “Kriv,” the dwarf answers, pointing to himself. “And I'm Scotty- Scotty Beandelver.” The dwarf nods curtly, continuing to appraise them with his eyes. “From the looks of you, I take it you're adventurers.” “Looking for friends,” Drolc says. Kriv frowns. “Friends?” Scotty elaborates, “His adventuring companions are missing. I guess he thinks they're out here or something?” “Well, there's nothing out here but-” Kriv is interrupted by splashing. And then a voice, mellifluous and sweet, like running water. “Oh please, help!” [i][b]Next Time:[/b][/i][b][/b] Things don't go so well! *Coffee, if you don't already know that. **Dire corbies, from the 1e Fiend Folio, for the record. [/QUOTE]
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