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  #856  
Old 06-23-2019, 02:56 PM
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Goblin SlayerThe masked adventurer had been carefully examining his surroundings when his new allies began mentioning traps. This brought his attention back to the group. "I have an idea. It will work best if the hostages are on the other side of the bridge. You guys should check that back area near the waterfall while I set this up. We'll want to make sure the hostages aren't actually there before we try this out."

(OOC: Chance to object before I carry on. Sorry for the slow posting.)
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Last edited by Hound; 06-23-2019 at 02:57 PM.
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  #857  
Old 06-26-2019, 02:30 AM
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Investigating Zug
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"Got some appetite, eh? Fishies aftah my own heart." Zug took out a piece of mantis meat and chucked it into the water, curious to see the aquatic carnivores in action. "Eat up! Maybe I feed ya some gobbo meat when I'm done wit it! Krekeke... reminds me of home."

Sufficiently entertained by the display, he turned to Goblin Slayer and thought over what the man and his request.

"Hmm... maybe some a dem hostages be wantin' some payback too, yeah? I know dis grippli would!" Zug slammed a four fingered fist into an open, amphibious palm. "Gonna be frustratin' havin' more competition, but if any wanna show demselves big bad gobbo slayahs like you, maybe we give 'em da chance, ya? All ya big brained tall folk go on wit' dem plans! Whatevah ends up wit me fightin' more gobbos."

The frogbarian went to check the area by the waterfall, wondering if he would find anybody worth deputizing into their little goblin annihilation squad, and keeping an eye out for anything else of interest.



OOC
Dice Perception check:
1d20+11 (13)+11 Total = 24






 


 

Last edited by Crocodile; 06-26-2019 at 02:37 AM.
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  #858  
Old 06-27-2019, 01:24 AM
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A Bit of ProtectionVreilund just nodded silently at the Slayer’s words before he began rooting around in his pack once more. This time the mage procured a rolled-up scroll, quickly unfurling it before turning towards Zug, invoking it’s power on the fearsome frogbarian.

And as Vree gestured and chanted the grippli would feel...well...something. Nothing so dramatic as Vree’s enlargement spell. Just a tingle upon his amphibian skin, a sense of warmth, a feeling of protection; subtle but every bit as real as the berserker’s own axe.

Another scroll was procured, and this time it’s power was turned upon Adalicia. She’d feel the same sense of quiet, invisible protection as the parchment crumbled to dust in the arcanist hands.

And so with the two melee specialists thus empowered, Vreilund was ready to go. “...Shall we?”


 

 

Last edited by Citizen Sam; 07-10-2019 at 05:33 PM.
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  #859  
Old 06-28-2019, 12:25 PM
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”Basil, Longbow Alchemist” Basil considers what he has to offer as he checks his belongings. He pulls out a few of his extracts looking at what is contained within. As he searches, Oregano pulls himself out of the odd patch on the thick part of Basils skin and moves around Basil feet and in between his legs chittering away.

Basil raises his arm to get his companions attention. I have an extract here that can make one of you invisible for a short period of time. That could help with scouting ahead.



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Last edited by Kshnik; 06-28-2019 at 12:27 PM.
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  #860  
Old 06-28-2019, 02:39 PM
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Onward!"Ahh, I 'ope zis surprise of yours ees not anyzing like ze last, Monsieur Tueur! I do not zink explosions suit caves very well, hahah!" A musing pause. "Alzough, zat would certainly get ze job done, no?"

Standing proud for Vreilund whilst he casts his spell, the swashbuckler casts a jaunty wink his way along with a, "Merci, mon cher," before clapping Zug on his tiny, murderous shoulder, chirping, "You et I, we take ze lead in zis passage, but I zink we take ze suggestions of our mignonne et petite souris wiz ze invisibility. 'awke 'as been doing well as our scout, no? We send 'im forward, make sure we do not 'ave a repeat of zat last ambush - Or worse! Slayer, you are trapping ze ozzer passage? Zat will keep our well-shaped posteriors safe! Well, zose of us wiz well-shaped ones, anyway," she cackles, with a fan and flick of the tail feathers. With rapier ready, the avian gets ready to move out.


 
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  #861  
Old 06-28-2019, 04:12 PM
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Sulking Zug
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"Oh, dat tickles..." The protective aura which surrounded and bound itself to Zug was comforting, much like a blanket of finely woven leaves on a cool, rainy afternoon. "Ya magic folk nevah run outta tricks, eh? Maybe I shoulda paid more attention ta dem shamans back home."

Adjusting to the new sensation, the amphibian's gaze turned to Adalicia as the falconess halted him gently, sharing her own words of advice on the current situation.

"But dat ambush was fun! What's wrong wit' havin' anotha one?" Zug sent a grin back up to the much taller avian, making it absolutely clear that yes, he would very much like another life and death struggle to literally fall from the ceiling and try to strike them down again. "And imagine if ya find people ta rescue down dat way and gobbos ta slay. Ya get ta show off ya tail feathahs for dem grateful folk, and I get da chance ta feed dem gobbos to dey own fishies. If dat's not winnin', I don't know what is."

As excited as he was by the prospect of further bloodshed, the grippli still acquiesced to the wisdom of the group, though he refused to take the potion from Basil.

"Save it for when ya really need it, mouserat brotha. If da other mad bird's gonna go in an' do his shadow stalkin', me an' Ada be comin in aftah we know da situation. Kre, don't see what's so wrong wit' just beatin' bloody whatevah enemy we got ahead wit' my axe. All dis waitin'... gonna be growin' old before I evah beat da Slayahs record." Zug indulged in a bit of pouting as the group continued on its cautious progression through the cave, arms crossed as he tapped at the ground with webbed feet, waiting for the go ahead to rush forward into the dark passage.


OOC

The frog begrudgingly concedes to let the scout head out first.




 


 

Last edited by Crocodile; 07-04-2019 at 06:40 AM.
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  #862  
Old 06-30-2019, 07:59 PM
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Allow me to introduce myself.Hawke took the lead searching for traps as he went with Zug hot on his heels. The frog-barian could hardly keep from hopping in place he was so eager for more goblin blood. Adalicia was a few steps behind Zug with her rapier at the ready; her cocky grin replaced by a steely glare of resolution. Vrielund and Basil marched side by side, both ready to support the front line at a moment's notice while Broc with his trusted hammer, watched the rear.

They followed the twisting cavern, the sounds of the fast running water began to fade away. As the distant water faded into silence a new sound game from up ahead. It was an unusual sound, kind of wet and gooey sounding? It didn't sound pleasant, but still they had to move forward. The ceiling began to rise as they entered a domed cavern. The torch light which had been illuminating the low stone ceiling now reached out into endless darkness, unable to reach the top of the cavern. At the edge of the torch light, the source of the squishy moist sounds could be found. It was a goblin, but the most unusual goblin they had ever seen. The goblin was wearing a wearing what was once a white robe perfectly fitted for his height and frame, now utterly stained in dirt, sweat, blood, and only the gods know what else. He wore a white face mask, despite a lit cigar poking out of the side into his toothy mouth. We wore a strange contraption atop his head that seemed to contain a dozen different sized magnifying glasses all connected to a single arm to allow him to work in conjunction. On his hands were long black leather gloves that reached his elbow and his hand was a small curved blade. Laying on a table in front of him was a bizarre and almost beyond words. A goblin laid upon the table, its left arm however had already been surgically replaced with gorilla arm and the goblin in the white robe seemed to be in the middle of replacing the other one.

The goblin paused as he noticed the torch light and looked up toward the uninvited guests. "Well, I guess I should have expected adventurers sooner or later." He reached up and pulled down the surgical mask. He then took the cigar from his mouth and flicked away the ash. "It seems my time to experiment is over. Such a shame." With the other hand he reached under the table and pushed a button.

From above beyond the reach of the torch, some sort of gloppy liquid began to pour down upon the entrance where our Ongoing Story Boss Escape Point used: no saving throwheroes still stood. Drenched in the glop, our heroes braced themselves for what ever horrifying flesh eating disease or acid to take effect. After a few seconds however, our heroes realize it didn't hurt at all. They go to move, but find their feet firmly glued to the ground.

"I do hope you enjoy playing with my creations." The doctor said with a smile as he walked a few feet behind the table and jumped down a large black hole in the floor. A hole that Hawke was fairly certain he'd seen the other side of.

Broc wasted no time calling upon the minor miracle of Torag. Water began to form over the heads of our heroes, splashing down and washing away the glue. As the last of the glue was dissolved, our heroes her the breaking and snapping of wood, followed by the sound of something tumbling and the curses of goblins. The strange white-robed goblin had demanded so much of their attention, they hadn't looked around the rest of the cavern yet. A dozen barrels which had been leaned against the far wall now lay in splinters as a dozen little goblins began to stand up, crawling out of the debris. Each goblin was far from normal. One had crab claws for hands, another had giant spider legs coming from his back, while another still had bat wings. Each one was uniquely and horrifically surgically altered.

Unlike the white-robed goblin, they didn't speak. They didn't even seem to think. They began sniffing at the air, glaring at our heroes. Drool or foam began to collect in the corners of their mouths. Some began to howl and growl like animals. Then, all at once, they began their charge...

OOCA dozen mutated Goblins are charging toward you. I am giving you each full role play control to kill two mutant goblins. You can fight any kind of mutated goblin you want to match what ever crazy combat idea you have in your head. Make this cool.
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  #863  
Old 07-03-2019, 02:17 AM
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Hawke Swiftwind
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As they group walked the sound of rushing water fell quiet as they grew distant from its source, but strangely little but their own bustle came to fill the void. The relative silence made the avian scout feel incredibly uneasy. In part, the ambush they'd experienced was still fresh in his mind, and not having a clear indication of where their foes were made the possibility of a repeat performance all too real.

But more importantly, goblins were creatures of chaos and disorder. Where were the yips and hollers of war? Where was the sound of gnashing teeth and clashing steel?

Why is it so damn quiet here?

Something was very wrong. He could feel it in his heart and in his feathers but he couldn't figure out just what it was. They passed through winding tunnels, and with each step Hawke's vigilance grew more anxious. Every scan of every crevice was backlit by a subtle base of panic.

When other sounds did finally begin to drift through the darkness, it was almost a relief to the avian. The sound was strange, unfamiliar, but it was a distinct and welcome absence of nothing.

And as it happened, the thing making the sounds was even more otherworldly than Hawke could have imagined. The squelching of the enigma happily chopping away at the corpses of its brethren felt almost viscous as it assaulted his ears. It thickened the air and forced a sickened lump into his throat with such gusto that by the time he realised the thing had been talking to his party it was already too late to react to the downpour of liquid from above -- a liquid much less hypothetically viscous than the avian's own disgust.

The encounter was over in an instant, and even after Broc's magic washed away the glue he couldn't bring himself to give chase. Sure, he knew what awaited them down the hole, but it was more than that. He simply couldn't fathom what had just occurred.

The sound of smashing barrels burst him from his trance.

Chaos. Disorder. Teeth. Steel.

War.

As twisted and demented as their new foes were, this was an evil that the party was more than ready to face. This was the faceless, nameless beast that they had trained their whole lives to defeat -- ever changing in form, but wholly consistent in nature.

"Irori, grant me strength!" The rogue's prayer came out in a loud, confident tone. It filled the cavern in stark contrast to the reverent whisper that usually presided and set the speaker's features into a statue of implacable resolve. "Abominations be damned, for we will not die this day!"

He started moving then, his muscled legs easily finding purchase on the fetid moss covering the chamber's floor. A few of the mindless beasts seemed to only passingly fixate on him as they moved to whatever designated prey they had caught the scent of, so he did the same, rushing forward to a particular foe.

The goblin -- if these monstrosities could still be labeled as such -- seemed to have only half a face. On the opposite side, where once there lay eye and nose, instead grew a crystalline lattice. The gems seemed almost alive, pulsing with unknown energy and clinging to the creature so that one couldn't tell where the flesh ended and the stone began. The thing's pallid skin shimmered with sparkling flecks, floating in a sea of grey necrosis as the host shuffled slowly forward. Each step seemed to be a struggle, wracking the creature's body with convulsions and ticks. In any other circumstance the display may have been almost comical, but it was the monster's smile that made it Hawke's first target -- a sinister, unwieldy thing that spread beyond its fangs and into its lone, unblinking eye.

The avian rushed forward, ducking through monsters and zeroing in on his target with bared claws ready to exact violence. He was so focused on his goal that he didn't even see the puddle growing before him. He was nearly 10 feet away, ready to pounce, when it materialized: another beast emerging from solid stone.

One moment it had only been water, unseen in the moss. The next, a tentacled monstrosity with semi-solid features gurgling a battle cry toward the intruder. Drips fell from its appendages, hissing as they burned the ground below where they touched. Its face, switching between solid and liquid, seemed to be a gaping maw of rotating fangs.

The avian's mind raced, quickly taking in the new situation. Still, his momentum carried him forward and he couldn't afford to miss a step.

Eight feet now, the distance closing fast. He would have to go through this one to reach his original target. He dug in another talon and put tension into his muscles...

Suddenly the was a click, the snapping of the crystal goblin's neck, followed by a deep, resonating, alien boom. The air between them rippled with the impact of it, and the kraken goblin surged forward, propelled by the blast.

CRAP--

He allowed his knee to buckle, dropping his center of gravity to slow his momentum just enough that he could lean backwards as the thing collided with him. A tentacle swiped past where his head had been just an instant before while the bulk of the thing simply struck him in a heap. He pushed off with his forward foot and went back into a roll, using the combined momentum to throw it behind him in a desperate ploy to create some distance. It soared through the air for only a second before desolidifying and dropping straight down, only to rematerialize and charge straight back at the off-balanced warrior.

Hawke pushed into his shoulders, kipping up to his feet and breaking into a sprint on the non-crystal side of the concussor. The kraken tried to give chase, but he was faster and he knew it. If only he could close the gap...

Another click, turning the the crystal goblin's head to an impossible angle to face the approaching rogue. Another burst of sound and energy, this time sending Hawke flying into the table where the goblin-ape hybrid lay incomplete and sending both rolling across the moss.

The kraken wasn't in the blast zone. He had a precious slice of time to take in his surroundings. Battle was raging all throughout the chamber, so no help was likely to come. He was on his own. Darting his eyes in every direction, a flash of hope formed as he looked up.

The kraken was almost upon him. He had to move fast.

He bolted upright, grabbing the still-severed arm of the unfinished experiment as he went. With a sweeping motion he swung it up and around, intercepting the incoming tentacle of the kraken goblin's strike. The suckers on the appendage quickly wrapped around their prize, eliciting a gurgle of satisfaction.

But it was short-lived -- Hawke would make sure of that. Ducking beneath the other tentacle, he spun around and pulled the outstretched arm with him. He planted a foot onto the jostled table and leapt up, taking the kraken in close in a hug as the pair fell as one directly over the concussor.

Another click, but this time Hawke smiled. As the sound burst came out, he twisted in the air, taking the full brunt of the blast that sent both him and his new hostage straight upward toward the ceiling of the chamber...

Straight onto the waiting stalactite. The impact of the stone outcropping nearly split the kraken in two and knocked the wind out of the avian, but for now he didn't need to breathe: he just needed the laws of physics to do their work. He turned back to the creature below.

Hawke fell ever more quickly toward his target, accompanied by a shower of gore from the victim of his ploy. Before the thing could crack its neck once again, the rogue's claw ripped it from the thing's rotten body in a wrenching strike before his collided heavily with the stone floor. The splash of blood, water, and all manner of fluids in between erupted around him and the situation resolved. It covered him and pretty much everything else in the vicinity, but he didn't have the strength to get out of the way. He barely had the strength to breathe as the pain of his maneuver fought past the adrenaline that made it possible.

Gods, I hope the others are faring better.
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Last edited by DAquilina; 07-05-2019 at 10:40 AM.
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  #864  
Old 07-03-2019, 12:56 PM
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”Basil, Longbow Alchemist” Basil mind considers the glue that held him and his companions in place. I can make this. He begins to consider the various ingredients that he would use when his thoughts are interrupted by the multiple barrels spread around the cavern began to burst open.

Two barrels were closer to him than the others. Out of one barrels a goblin flew upwards, wings beating behind it, four arms, two holding a bow, one with a quiver and another with a few arrows. Out of another barrel a different type of goblin appeared. It had longer arms causing knuckles to scrap the ground, spikes or spines in place of hair, and abnormally large mouth with pointy yellow teeth.

Basil hands went to his clothing grabbing a vial and components mixing them as he has done so many times in the past. He threw the vial at the spiny goblin angling it so its spray will not hit any of his companions. It hits the goblin on the ground and splashes high enough to spray the one in the air.

A smile appeared on his face I can make things stick to the floor also as he shifted back a few steps and slides his bow off his shoulders. His other hand grabs three arrows out of his quiver. An arrow slices his thigh as he continues to back up. Basil grimaces in pain as he lifts one of the arrows across his bow, pulls it back to his whiskers and lets it fly at the flying goblin. His fingers nimbly flip a second arrow up and he fires again. The first arrows misses the goblin but his second hits the winged goblin the upper left shoulder.

Basil chitters to Oregano telling him to let him know when the spiny goblin breaks free as he flips the third arrow up to the bow while shifting a few steps to his left. He fires the arrow up at the four armed goblin which grazes the right side of the creatures hip. Basil slides the bow back on his shoulders as he shifts his position again. The flying goblin returns fire with a couple arrows of its own but both miss.

Basil hands quickly grab another vial and components mixing them with practice precision and lobs this one again at the goblin as it continues to struggle with the glue of his first bomb. This bomb explodes with cold and ice on the spiny goblin, whose mouth was frothing with anger, staggering the creature. The cold spray also hits the flying goblin stinging it.

Basil as he shifts his position again slides his bow off his shoulder again as his hand grabs another trio of arrows. He brings one of the arrows up along side of the bow and pulls it back to his cheek. Rather than aim it at the flying goblin he shifts his focus on the spiny one and the arrows flies into the goblin’s gut.

Basil screams in pain as an arrow finds its way into his thigh. He stumbles sideways as he brings an arrow up, the remaining arrow hanging low between two fingers. He aims at the flying goblin fires, swings up the last arrow and fires again. Both striking the creature who drops low, landing next to the spiny goblin and helps him pull out of the glue.

Basil reaches into his pack and pulls out a small round clay object. He pulls a small silver pin out and chucks the clay grenade, filled with iron pellets, at the two goblins. It explodes into the goblins knocking them both down.

Basil exhales and then inhales a big breath of air. He looks around as he slides his bow back up on his shoulder. A screech from Oregano warns him of the attack but he doesn’t spin quick enough. A body slams into him and teeth bite down on his shoulder. The golin was strong for his race but so was Basil. Basil shifts his body and then use his claws on the goblin. The goblin gets off another bite but Basil’s claws finish the thing off. He shifts away from the creature pulls out another vial and drinks the contents. A warmth spread across his body healing some of his wounds.





ooc
Dice Roll:
1d20+8 (5)+8 Total = 13

Dice Roll:
3d6+3 (4, 1, 3)+3 Total = 11

Splash damage 6 points


 

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Last edited by Kshnik; 07-07-2019 at 11:24 PM.
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  #865  
Old 07-06-2019, 12:12 AM
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Menagerie Slayer Zug
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"GET BACK HERE!"

Zug was incensed, instantly flying into a rage as Broc's magic freed him from the glue-like substance. Running away to let one's minions do all the work!? A person like that deserved an axe to the face more than anyone, with extreme prejudice. A reality which would be realized very soon after the party went and dealt with this absurd army of nightmarish abominations.

Even as the red haze fell on his mind, the grippli could not help but feel that what he was looking at was wrong. Wrong in so many ways that he probably lacked the words to accurately express them in Common, and would certainly take the entire breadth of the Grippli tongue to convey in proper order. It was madness made flesh, suffering and desecration given violent form to inflict pain upon the world at large.

More experiments. Yet again, it seemed that the price of so-called 'progress' was the suffering of others.

"YA NOT GETTIN' AWAY, MAD GOBBO!" A person like this could not be allowed to live. Not again. The frogbarian felt this truth to the core of his rage fueled being, and it blinded him to all other concerns. Such as proper positioning.

Instead of opting for the well oiled death dealing partnership he had previously utilized with Adalicia, Zug rushed forward to meet the the tortured creations head on, screaming his warcry at the top of his lungs. Though many of the creatures rushed to other targets they were keen on tearing apart, the grippli did succeed in grabbing the attention of a particularly spiny specimen.

Twice as large as a normal goblin should be, the skin across its torso seemed stretched taught against bones that were a size too large, as if a sack of flesh had been relieved of its original contents then forcefully fitted with a replacement so bulky as to have needed excessive force to wedge into place. The goblinoid chimera's arms and legs had been replaced with furry, claw tipped appendages of a bear, though the claws seemed to be unnatural in their length and edge. On its back there were the tell-tale signs of some kind of segmented carapace, sturdy looking but still flexible enough to allow for some bending, and all across said carapace were rows upon rows of jet black, foot long quills, shaking in agitation as they matched the mood of their monstrous owner.

The monster gave a gurgling cry to match against Zug's own roar, its mouth finding difficulty in producing sound around the fanged snout which had been fashioned into the creature's bones and flesh, stretching out beyond its large goblin nose. It's challenge expressed, the abomination curled into a deadly ball and tumbled forward like an unstoppable wrecking ball, dirt and rock flung aside in its wake as it sought to simultaneously pierce and crush the smaller grippli. As with everything in life, Zug decided to deal with the matter the best way he knew how, by hitting it really hard. He swung his axe at the armored death ball, seeking to smack it to the side and crack the creature open, but although he had succeeded in veering it off course, the force of the charge had been too great even for him, and the amphibious warrior lost his primary weapon, Vermin Biter flying from his hands and embedding itself with a hiss on a nearby wall.

"KRAAAAAAAAAAAAA!" Zug rushed for his weapon, but the familiar sound of the rolling fiend snapped his attention away from that task, and in response he leaped clear over the monster instead. Frustration mounting, the frogbarian pulled out his copper club, beginning to wield that instead as his opponent came in for another pass. Now more prepared for the force he could expect from the creature, Zug batted at the creature again. It did not break, but neither had he lost his weapon that time. Progress.

This dance continued for some time, where the grippli would bash at the shell of the creature as it bore down on him or leap over the death ball if it came too quickly. The rage fueled Zug, but the strength of the blows he was contending with was still taking its toll on his stamina. But he knew the thing must be getting tired too, he could feel its crashing rolls becoming less violent even as his own arms tired. It was only a matter of who could keep up their murderous intent the longest.

DAT BE NO CONTEST!

With another smack of the club, Zug yet again diverted the creature from its destructive path. This time however, it did not correct its course in time as it had before. It came out of its ball in an entirely uncontrolled tumble and crashed into the dirt amid the chaos of battle.

"RAAKAAA!" The frogbarian charged, club held high, prepared to give this creature the gift of mercy by bashing its brains out so that it no longer had to suffer this false life. But the blow never came. The club was still in Zug's hands, but it refused to fall on the carapaced goblinoid. In fact, it appeared to be rising, along with the rest of the grippli. He was flying. Flying.

Wild yellow eyes looked up to find the source of this confusion, and he was greeted with another goblin monstrosity, their arms replaced with giant bird wings, its feet now ape-like appendages, powerful and maneuverable, which they demonstrated by grabbing on to the amphibian's arms and lifting him up to the roof of the cave.

"SKREEEEE!" This one's shrill cry emanated from a quad-segmented mouth, rows of razor sharp teeth front and center from the jaw flaps, held open like a lethal flower. Zug's arms were pulled apart, and struggle as he might, he could not regain control as the beast began the work of trying to tear his arms from their sockets. The rage fueled grippli could feel his bones on the verge of popping as the creature continued to soar through the air, could feel his skin on the brink of tearing. His club was useless in this position, so he went to his third weapon instead. The frogbarian opened his mouth, his tongue snaking out and reaching for his kukri. The muscle grasped at the blade's handle, unsheathed it from its leather container, and lashed out at the winged goblinoid's head, piercing it in the side of the skull. There was a twitch of a death spasm, but the grippli felt the pressure on his limbs slacken as he and the body both dropped to the cave floor below. The brightly colored tree dweller retracted his tongue, resulting in a kukri now occupying his mouth, spread his arms and legs wide, and glided down to the wall where Vermin Biter was still melting into the rock.

As soon as he landed, he pulled the weapon out of its purchase, holding it aloft triumphantly, before turning to face his initial opponent, no longer coming at him as a ball of death, but rather a storm of tooth and claw. The first slash from the misplaced bear appendage slashed into froggy flesh, drawing blood from the smaller greenskin, another slash did the same, raking across an arm as Zug began to leak more and more life fluid. Before the third blow could strike however, the raging frogbarian roared at the creature before him and brought his axe down on the incoming claw, splitting it down the middle and rendering it useless for combat. The other claw came down to strike at the grippli's face, and his axe bit into that one as well, hissing angrily as it fed on the mutilated flesh of the goblinoid. Angry and now more determined to kill than ever, the creature tried to bite down on Zug with its fanged snout, but the grippli maneuvered out of the way of the hasty, angry assault, instead dropping his axe, grabbing the carapaced creature by the neck, and using its own momentum to fling it down to the ground. Before it could recover, the frogbarian called upon all his might to grab at two quills from the carapaced creature's back, yanking them out with painful effort, and then as it was just regaining its footing yet again, he drove the sharp defensive needles into each of its overly large eyes, deeper and deeper until he could feel them reaching the back of its skull. Zug held tight as the creature lashed out at him in its death throes, covered in blood and bile and who knows what else as liquid poured out of every wound both he and the creature had suffered in battle. But eventually, slowly, inevitably, the death throes ceased, and the armored roller fell to the cave floor, dead and at rest.

"KRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!" Zug picked up his axe, more to him now than just an oddity of shaped metal, but the symbol of his bond with his adventuring party. He looked to the lot of them, seeing who he should help next, and could not help but grin. Whatever experience had led them to this moment, they were all, each and every one, giving their all to survive this latest challenge thrown at them by the nightmare makers of the world. This was another moment of pride in the people with whom he was glad to share the hunt.

The first goblin still needed to die though. He would rush back into the fray to help where he could, if he was needed, but then he would go into pursuit of this new menace to all that was decent to the grippli's eyes. This atrocity to the natural world could not stand.




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Last edited by Crocodile; 07-06-2019 at 12:26 AM.
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  #866  
Old 07-08-2019, 03:27 AM
Citizen Sam Citizen Sam is offline
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Contest of WillsVreilund just looked annoyed as he was covered in glue...and soaked water in the course of a few seconds after. The mage didn’t have long to bemoan his fate however, as the intrepid party was confronted by...a strange sight indeed. A goblin, seemingly augmented, that fancied itself some sort of doctor or alchemist. However they had little time to ponder the oddity as the mad goblin used the distraction of it’s glue trap to make a hasty exit…

...And leaving behind a menagerie of monstrosities to cover it’s escape.

Two monsters in particular set their ire on Vreilund, unfolding from the remains of their container like a pair hellish accordions. Compared to the horrors the rest of the party was facing their particular alterations were...subtle. Legs, arms, and neck were all just a little too long, eyes were alight with an uncommon intelligence...and perhaps most noticeable of all, their entire circulatory system was glowing with a pulsing, unnatural light under their pocked green hides.

Weaponized with magic; sorcery literally singing in their blood.

Acting quickly, Vree reached deep within for his own inner spark, bringing it to bear against whatever ruinous powers the augmented goblins were about to turn on his compatriots.

What followed was a contest of magical energies. An intricate and deadly dance of potent yet invisible thaumaturgical forces that would surely engulf whomoever was unable to keep step. Vree’s face was a mask of intense concentration, sweat beading on his brow as he held his ground against the two. It was close, very close. Indeed, the mage was nearly overwhelmed by the sheer brute strength of the two.

But he had something they didn’t; discipline earned from harsh the lessons of experience, as well as skill gained from years of study and practice.

Like a monk taking an opponent’s momentum and using it as a weapon of their own, Vreilund waited out the initial storm, then deftly moved to twist the creature’s own destructive power against them…

And then...

Poof. Puff.

The invisible contest would likely go unnoticed by his fellows, uninitiated (and preoccupied) as most of them were. Anyone having the time to watch would see little more than the trio staring at each other for a minute or two before the goblins simply disappeared in twin puffs of smoke and brimstone, likely a victim of a flaw in their own unstable design.

Vreilund simply wiped the sweat off of his brow with a sleeve before looking around to see if any of his fellows needed assistance.
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  #867  
Old 07-11-2019, 02:16 AM
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Doctor Goblinston, I Presume?"Zis, zis was not a zing I was expecting to come across today," the avian notes, gesturing somewhat limply with the main heft of her rapier at the fairly grisly scene before her. She has no doubt there are intelligent goblins in the world - But her experience with the little vermin thus far leans that intelligence into a more animal cunning than, say, a higher education in the realms of biology and science. The creature evidently lairing here is appropriately garbed for his morbid work, and the gadget strapped to his head speaks of technological aptitude; she is reminded of an associate of her parents, dimly recalled as a learned researcher of the marvels of ancient and forgotten civilizations whose aptitude for machinery nonetheless surpassed the current era. This thing is not a typical goblin... if a goblin it is!

If his intelligence was in question, his preference for discretion and retreat in the face of danger despite his apparent readiness for interruption should quell any argument. An irritated squawk escapes the bird with the sudden onpour of goo effectively rooting the group in place, and it's followed up by another dismayed sound when she's briefly drenched even though it does help to free them. A sigh, and a brief shakedown to cast off excess moisture, and she's about to follow after this insane doctor when the cracking of wood calls her attention - And the monstrosities emerging from the broken remnants of barrels, each one a horrible concoction of green-skin vermin and ... Et cetera, the detritus of other creatures, alarming chimera borne of a madman's mind. She is fairly certain there was little point to half of these... Experiments, did the goblin call them? Maybe nothing more than seeing whether or not he could. What, for the love of the gods, would the purpose be in replacing a goblin's arms with spider legs? The atrophied legs suggest those are vestigal, or at the very least saw little use after eight horrible chitiny legs had apparently been grafted into the bloated stumps of the pitiable thing's biceps. Horrible enough, to be certain, but the unnecessary mandibles latched around the lipless mouth made it all the worse, rivulets of saliva wetting the monster's chin.

If there's one thing to be said in its favor? Damn, it's fast.

The clattering of its mandibles go unnoticed, mostly on account of the rapid scuttling of its numerous legs. Limbs that aren't just handy for locomotion, apparently - The avian barely has time to flick her blade in an arc to deflect the sudden jab of the sharp-ended limb before another is darting in, then another. It's quick, but reliant on brute strength, no grace or clever attacks, just stab after stab after stab. It's all that Adalicia can do to stay on the defensive, losing ground to the abomination but fortunately not taking any hits; she's fine with this for one reason only - It gets the stony wall behind her, closer. The clatter and clang of armoring chitin sliding across steel continues, lightning-quick strikes parried with brisk sweeps of the rapier to redirect the spidery jabs until, sensing the stone wall near to hand, the avian simply dodges aside: the wicked jab of the spidery limb collides hard with the rock, cracking the stone and the limb and earning a sound that doesn't really strike her as one of anguish or pain - Are all of these things wired the same? Probably not. With a snort and derisive laugh, the fancy bird moves to stab for once... But the sudden swipe of a massive limb, furred and long-clawed, sends her sprawling to her back and sliding across the rocky floor, winded; of course there'd an interruption.

Scarring lacerates its naked hide, thick and blotchy and overlapping, seeming to cover every inch of skin. The monstrous limb would have been a sloth's, had the sloth been the size of a horse. On the goblin, it's oversized and dragged, but the sinew burgeoning from beneath the patchy skin of its shoulder and pectoral apparently provide enough strength for wicked swings; she's lucky she caught the mitt and not the claws. "Oh, fils de pute," she could have been heard to mutter, pushing herself to a rise while the sloth-armed goblin advances. This one, at least, is more manageable, as knowing the second swing is coming she's easily able to shift away and retaliate with a slash across its side - But even as the vitae wells across the wound, the cut flesh is already sealing, scarring bubbling instantly over the wound, thickening its hide. "Zat - Ees a problem." Maybe there is some evil and twisted intent to the mastermind behind these atrocities of nature, after all. If you need a distraction or creatures of war, the myriad components jammed together certainly makes these things a bitch to fight!

She jabs, slips aside, slashes and swipes and stabs, dodges again, but every wound she inflicts is shortly sealed, the skin thickened, subsequent attacks a trifle less effective against the leathery scabbing. The slow but dangerous movements of the goblin made it an easy target - Alas, every injury inflicted doesn't last, and it seems to feel no pain, discomfort, or fatigue. To make matters worse, the clickety-clack of the spidery goblin's limbs calls her attention aside, just in time to sweep with her blade and re-direct that beast's thrust, with the only lucky bit there being it doesn't use its rock-shattered limb. Well, silver lining. A battle on two fronts is far from ideal, but she can at least kite the spidery creature around. If she can bait it aga- Oh. Ohh. Ha ha. There's a thought.

It takes a few moments, and once or twice the rushing stab of a spidery limb swishes past too close for comfort, but gradually she manages to draw the faster spider away from the sluggish sloth - And then puts the latter behind her with the former in front of her. One's relentless assault slowly presses her back toward the glacial but inevitable advance of the other. The tricky part is timing... but as rapid as the spider's attempts at ventilating her are, she isn't too worried. All she has to do is side-step before the sloth arm swings - Once the initial spider leg pierces flesh, the abomination's other limbs stir into a frenzy, pin-cushioning the regenerating creature with numerous lacerations and stabs. It isn't fazed in the slightest, its enormous arm cranking back and slamming into the arachnid past all of its stabbing limbs, the long dirty claws rending through flesh and bone and organ with ease; the spider doesn't vocalize any death throe, giving no more than a clattering of its mandibles as it sinks into a bloody, gurgling heap, the tremors of its myriad limbs still striving to stab but with no strength behind them.

The numrous holes in the sloth begin to seal, as she expected, and as she hoped the burgeoning flesh and scarring swells the monster's chest in uneven blotches. Its already-ragged breathing comes in even more frothy grunts, confirming a suspicion. With its slowness, it's an easy task to land several further hits across its face, the healing cuts swelling its face to an uglier countenance.. but more importantly, the more she cut, the more scarring is birthed. By the time the beast is left asphyxiated on the ground, unable to breath, its face resembles more a tumescent growth of swollen skin and scarring than anything else.

A heavy breath escapes her, something that draws a twinge of pain from within, distracting enough to earn a gloved wing clutching at her rib; she might have only taken one great hit, but it certainly feels like it might have bruised something. "Ugh, I need a week of rest after zis," she mutters while surveying the chamber, ready to move and assist any compatriot that might still be dealing with one of the mad doctor's creations.


 
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