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  #31  
Old Mar 15th, 2021, 09:23 PM
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Justindanda smiled slowly at the Baroness as he handed the Berfpiller bottle to him. "Kuqi you've done it again! Drink responsibly now," Familiar with Bedeebs' and his own magic, the eladrin knew Berf could very much still be a problem since Kuqi kept mentioning that "god-shield", and his suspicions about the bugbear being some avatar(?) or servant of Bane, like O.O. But, having yoinked Berf's maul, he wasn't too worried about it.

Besides, there were throat-slitters who needed their throats slit.

Whistling as he went, Justindanda strolled south, catching up to Jane being all frosty and winter-themed and be-tentacled beauty, then Lofwyr getting misted by Dragar-life-juices care of his battleaxe. "Hullo, Lof! Beholde what I hast yoinked from Berfie! A maul for pink meat!" He left the weapon standing on its head for the skald to pick up, then announced to him, Jane, and Hingalon who was running towards them, "SLASHERS ASSEMBLE!" Justindanda looked more like the actual but late Mordanda in her heyday for a moment as the magic imbued vigor and speed to him and his friends, even if his actual words totally only made sense in Feywild terms. And by vigor and speed we mean vigor and speed to get Dragar soft and ready for a Spyder reunion.


Justin's Mechanics

Move: S4 to P8 (30')
Free Action: leave Berf's maul on O9 for Lofwyr to pick up
Bonus Action: use Mantle of Inspiration on himself, Jane, Lof, and Hin (Durza was out of LoS having tackled Draggy); +8 temp HP, can move as a Reaction
Reaction: (assuming I can use this before using my Action) P8 to J8
Action: Cast Eldritch Blast at Draggy:
Dice 1st:
2d20+7kl1 (11, 7 (keeping 7) )+7 Total = 14
(14) and
Dice 2nd:
2d20+7kl1 (2, 6 (keeping 2) )+7 Total = 9
(9) for
Dice Roll:
1d10 1
(1) force damage in case the 1st beam hit
Condition:
Concentrating:

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Last edited by ElderOblex; Mar 15th, 2021 at 09:24 PM.
  #32  
Old Mar 15th, 2021, 10:07 PM
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BdKuqi had hoped the caterpillar trick would work, but they didn't really believe it would. Even when woolly Berf was right there in front of them in the bottle, it still seemed unreal. In fact, BdKuqi didn't fully believe it until they messaged the news to justKuqi back in chambers.

<<Kuqi STOP Berf now caterpillar STOP Cute one STOP But harmless STOP Can I bring him to you and not trigger alarm QUESTION We have one hour STOP That's all STOP BdB How do I turn this off QUESTION Ok now STOP>>

New-fangled message magic he scoffs.

 


 

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  #33  
Old Mar 16th, 2021, 12:38 AM
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Seek & Destroy
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Delicious warm blood splashed onto the Skald's pale skin feeding his lust for vengeance. "Shoulda killed us all when you had the chance Pinky! Mess with one Slasher you get everyone. Scared yet? You should be." Plips of blood mixed into the water and moss of the stone floor as the killer fled.

Lofwyr turned around in time to see Jane bolt down the next tunnel over and Justin, who was looking extra fabulous, drop off a special tool for tenderizing tieflings. "Bro! I love you, man!" His eyes lit up with violent visions when he saw the massive maul. The bardbarian jogged over and dropped his Arthur shield and Baron crafted battleaxe to heft the mighty weapon. He felt Justin's envigorating magic wash over him yet again.

"For Spyder!" Lofwyr cried as he followed the commotion. There he saw Jane sending another frosty ray at a space that Durza was about to tackle. The skald picked a pinch of sand out of the crumbling grout between the sewer stones and flicked it towards where he thought Dragar should be. "Here comes the sandman. Casting Sleep: if Dragar has 23 or less HP he is now unconsciousSay goodnight, Dragar!"

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  #34  
Old Mar 16th, 2021, 11:57 AM
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the chain tightens


Hingalon saw Durza shout and dash to grapple something. At the moment he couldn't tell if she'd effectively tackled her target, but then Jane shot another ray. The silhouette of the tiefling's head, encased in glittering frost, stood out for a moment in the sickly purple nauseous lilac lurid violaceous light of the pact blade.

Stepping forward, Hingalon lunged, aiming the point of his sword at the center of the hole outlined by Durza's outstretched arms. The weapon connected, drawing blood, which glittered for a moment on its sharp edge before disappearing. The pact blade was drinking it!

"Now, Lily! It's your moment!"

In the last 12 seconds or so Dragar had been frozen, slowed, grappled, then frozen again. Still, he had the time to wonder for a moment who this "Lily" was the warlock was talking to. An instant later, he felt the cold links of a chain tighten around his neck. Then the terrifying visage of a dead halfling girl materialized a few inches from his face, screaming I WAS ONLY THIRTEEN!

His knees buckled; he fell prone. All the while, the chain was tightening. And then she spoke: Don't worry, death doesn't hurt. It's life that's painful.


Hingalon's OOC and ActionsOOC:
I reskinned the Eldritch Smite as the shadowspawn's intervention because fun! Anyway, the result is the same: 25 force damage and target knocked prone. This is summed to the 5 of the blade itself for a total of 30. I'd say non-lethal? At least, the 5 from the blade are.

Saving throws:
Free Action:
Move: to Dragar
Action: swing and hit with pact sword, burn a 3rd-level slot for Eldritch Smite. Damage is 5+25
Reaction:
Bonus Action:
Condition:
Concentrating:


 
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Last edited by stepanxol; Mar 16th, 2021 at 01:44 PM.
  #35  
Old Mar 16th, 2021, 03:49 PM
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Wait… was that Hingalon running down the corridor with a shiny sword? Spyder padded after, the remains of his throat still too injured to be able to call out. He was trying to hurry but he had to cling to the walls as he moved to keep from falling over. Despite it, he moved onward, following the enticing lilac light.

He coughed, trying to clear his throat but only succeeding in causing himself more pain. It's not as nice when I do it to myself, he noted. The whip on his hip only purred.

"Forte!" he growled, forcing the word out. The magic took hold immediately, mending and knitting his wounds somewhat.

Better than nothing, he decided.

Up ahead he could hear shouting, the voices echoing in the tunnels so it was hard to hear who was doing what first. He staggered on, determined to catch up and help his friends with whatever they were fighting. He hoped it was Dragar. He really hoped it was Dragar.

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Last edited by Lazer; Mar 16th, 2021 at 03:50 PM.
  #36  
Old Mar 16th, 2021, 11:19 PM
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The Hunt for Dragar Draggins
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BeeDeeKuQee who decided that your brain was a stable where anyone's wandering words could canter in and park? Oh, right, you. You did. It's your own new trick. You hear Jane-bo-leth lowfully barbaric yawping at you: "We found him. Trying to get him dead as fast as possible so we can return to help." You know that you can answer if you like. You crank up your own new WORD MIND BLASTING CANNON and you blast words at Kuqi. You hear her throaty laugh in your mind, so soft and yet so audible that you understand you pretty much just shot off WORD BOMMMMMMMBZZZZZ in her brain. She is not fussed. She answers low and clear in Ghuliak. You realize that though you can think in both Ghuliak and common, it is more restful to hear Ghuliak inserted in your brain. It is your cradle tongue. Probably the only less invasive thing would be if it was High Hin, at which you are an undisputed master.

Kuqi answers: Delicious. I wish I could swallow him like a pill and poop his soul as scattered ashes in Gehenna. Perhaps one day I will. But, yes, as long as he cannot speak, he cannot make me call Petunia. He cannot make me----anything.. There is such wonder and joy in the last word. A luxurious stretch to the vowels; you can feel how even this brief freedom is a balm to her.

Justindanda, you can almost hear it: Who? Yondalla's attending angels ask rhetorically, Who da maul master? You answer anyway. It. Me. You leave the Berterpillar to its sips of wine and its enough-02-for-an-hour to the the Baroness. You trip lightly south, swinging your prize maul deftly to put a little whistle in the air. You are kinda feeling yourself. You set the maul down for Lofwyr, and then you look about see a buncha slashers who have a serious need for speed, if Dragar is to be secured. Well, you are the best kind of Bard there is: Glamour, baby. You grant light feet and light hearts. ZIP ZOOM off you all go, breezy as fae, and you zing a little Eldritch hatred at that pink invisible bum. Wherever your Spyder has found his eternal rest, you are gonna send this guy...lower. You feel every confidence that he has earned it.

Lofwyr, you want that maul. You run up to it, shedding your weapons like an old skin, and snatch it up. It zings with magic, but you think you'd need an hour to really get to know it before its enchantments could do you much good. But the weight of it! This is a SERIOUS weapon. This is not for hammering delicate little upholstery nails. This is for hammering in skulls. Preferably horned pink ones. Glamour Magic hits you, and you barrel on, your feet a thunder of murderous intent. GOAL. ORIENTED.

Durza if the band has a moral compass, it's your vegan Baron. If it has an id, it is Jane. A fist? Lofwyr. A soul? Spyder. A pleasure center? Justin. A dreamscape? Hingalon. You are its heart. You don't think of yourself that way, maybe, but the others know. You are the good warm beating heart and your body is the dance-expression of that one-two, lub-dub rhythm. But now. Oh, now. Your orc is out. Eff all that. You charge. You charge on faith, toward nothing but a sound of hooves and a whiff of Sulphur. You charge, and you smash into him, your sleek, muscled body stampeding into his slight form. Your good, strong arms go around him---almost. You feel his writhey-wriggling, and he is going to escape you, he will escape you---

Jane you careen down the corridor, blasting winter at the Dragar you see so clearly trying to squirm like a pink worm out of Durza's arms. You trumpet all of Dragar's failures to not suck, his failures to be Spyder. All you say is loud and so so so brutally truth. Your cutting words cut one of his little hooves right out from under him.

Durza, it is all you need to tip him, to perfectly lever and shove. That pink fork goes down. Hard. Helpless. You can feel the cold of Jane's ray like a frost on a skin you cannot see. But you do not NEED to see to it orc-press it. And in this glorious moment of success, you feel a balm, like a lub-dub noise restarting. You got him. You have him. He is down. How...GLORIOUS.

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A black lute with white wood inlays, as starkly darkly beautiful as Spyder himself once was, slides out and away as you smash him down, coming to rest against the wall.

Hingalon, the glamour magic hits you, hard, smelling of tangerines and springtime sea-air. You are a small. You are not too different in size from the Baron, but gobs are built to scuttle. He is faster. This thing Justin can do, it is such a delight to a Hin. To be instantly so light and fast and breezy! ZOOOOOM! And yet, you feel the slight dragging weight of her with you. She is----hungry and small and bone-fingered. She is where your smiteful rage went. She is what it called. Can Dragar see her? You think, yes. You cannot see the tiefling, but you can see the shape of a something pinned in Durza's inexorable cradling arms. He is held down by so much Orc, that it is easy for the vicious little Hin, all feardespairfury, to get the chain around his neck. Her force eviscerates him, makes it easy for you to put the blade in, deep. For a second you think, Oh. Oops, I killed him. Crushing, really. He killed Spyder. POOP DROWNING! At the very least. But then you see Lofwyr's hand make the arcane shape as he scoops up a bit of grit and throw it, and you hear the skald's whisper.

Lofwyr you release godsong----such a cruel, cold lullaby. And you hear a gentle, gentle snoring.

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Durza, if you get up and move away, you see your Hin has so thoroughly force-smashed Dragar that a great deal of his blood came out. As it puddles far enough to not be :carried: by him, you can make out the shape of him, revealed in scarlet as the grayscale gives way to Hingalon's light. Dragar is a reverse chalk drawing, so colorful and lovely against the gray stone.

Spyder, you pull yourself a little back from the brink. Forte. Whip likes it. Whip does not like you so close to death. Also, that esophagus going back in stiiiiings a little, and that's fine, too. The rats cling as you stagger and rush, dripping blood, but so determined. If he is going to die, you are going to be there. You will at least witness, if you cannot cause. You see them then. Your band. Gathered around a bloody patch with an invisible heap of something in the center of it. You know that high-whistle nose snore from all those months on the road, back before his poisonous jealousy turned him into this throat slitter, this vile sneaker, this would-be poisoner.

They got him. THEY GOT HIM.

Justin sees you first. Then Jane and Lofwyr. Then Durza. They see you in gray scale, so perhaps they think at first, AH, it is his ghost, and he was so bonded with us, a scrap of him was called to witness how we have brought his small-souled evil murderer down. But no. You are too bruised and bloody for a ghost. Too wounded. Too wheezing with harsh breaths. They look at you, and then, one by one, they know. You hope Jane doesn't get to you first. No way you will survive her elbows. But what you see on their faces---

Perhaps Hingalon sees their faces and understands, too, as he stands over the slack, invisible body. Perhaps someone thinks, OH! WE MUST TELL THE BARON.

Here is your Spyder, and every labored breath he struggles to suck down his ruined throat is a song and a promised victory.

Minstrel/Maxstrel, baby. Whole.



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Last edited by Fillyjonk; Mar 24th, 2021 at 08:00 PM.
  #37  
Old Mar 17th, 2021, 06:12 AM
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They all looked at him. Was it too late to make an entrance? He stopped, taking in the scene, his friends, his band standing over the snoring body of that treacherous, slimy, double-crossing viol player! Words could not express the gratitude Spyder felt, only music possibly could but he stood there without a lute so words would have to do.

"Uh, thanks guys," he said, one eyebrow raised and half a smile brushing his lips.

He approached the group, stood over Dragar, reached down, and whipped his glasses off the tiefling, quickly ridding them of the blood which had started to pool around them. He put them on and felt complete.

"Do we still have that rope?"

He knew that he had to act fast. Loviatar was waiting for this soul and she couldn't wait long. He wondered how long he had exactly because he would really like to take his time.

He quickly tied loops around the wrists of the tiefling, giving one rope to Lofwyr and another to Durza so they could pull his arms apart. He wanted Dragar to be awake, so he slapped him ever-so-gently with the prongs of the whip, more like a tickle, a kiss than a real thwack.

He let Dragar take in the sight of him standing there, throat still trying to close, glasses back in place, in total control. And then he twirled the whip a little bit, drawing the eye to the prongs glittering in the dim light. He had never executed anyone before but he had never been executed either, so this was a day for firsts.

"We both always knew you didn't have it," he said flatly. "You never felt the music, you just thought it was enough to learn a couple of flashy tricks. Maybe, some time in the next eternity you'll learn to do better, but I doubt it."

There was no more to say. Spyder drew the whip back behind himself, hearing it purring so much it seemed to vibrate. He brought it back around, the prongs raising nasty welts across Dragar's pink chest, but it wasn't enough to kill him. The tiefling still stood. Maybe Spyder hadn't wanted to kill him? Maybe, just maybe, he was feeling merciful?

The second swing came hard and fast, and Dragar's body collapsed.

Spyder said nothing as he clipped the whip to his belt again. He saw the lute lying nearby and picked it up, hugging it to his chest. It was so beautiful. Suddenly he remembered that they still had lots to do if they were going to win the battle of the bands.

"Do any of you have one of those potions?"

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Last edited by Lazer; Mar 17th, 2021 at 04:48 PM.
  #38  
Old Mar 17th, 2021, 11:14 AM
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Dagger Jane, Eladrin Bard/Sorcerer
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Jane runs at Spyder with her arms flailing. He's her teacher, her leader, her musical inspiration, the guy who always knows what chord that is, or a different better fingering, or where to breathe. He's the one who's been guiding her from writing juvenile lyrics about teenage angst to writing something worthy for the band to sing, hopefully, someday, maybe. She's given Spyder one-arm hugs before, side hugs, head pats, toe nudges, and dorky salutes, but she's never given him one of those hard, full-arm, yank-your-head-off, leave-a-mark hugs that overtake her when an urgency of emotion makes her feel like she'll burst.

She sees him though. He's perilously close to death still. She feels the death hug coming up, rising up in her like a shout. She can already feel her elbows locking around him and his bones cracking. She knows that only Durza or Lofwyr could resist it without injury, even on a good day. And so in a rare, nauseating moment of self-control and uncomfortable proximity to personal growth, Jane gives Spyder a nice soft gentle hug.

But shrieking doesn't hurt anyone.

"SPYDER!" she shrieks directly into his face. "YOU'RE ALIVE! I WROTE A SONG ABOUT IT! LISTEN!"

Head-thrashing. Converse-stomping. Tentacles.

"SPYder SPYder, HE's going to KICK YOUR ASS
My PARents are OUT in the YARD chewing ON SOME GRASS
Give me that DAGGER, I'll give you a CLUE
Spyder killed DRAGAR, AND HE'LL KILL YOU TOO"


Then she hugs Durza and Lofwyr too hard, because she's just gotta go somewhere with all that.

Before Jane gallops off to help Baron, she points to Dragar's corpse.

"We should bring that pink rag with us so we can use it to bait the corpse monster."

By which of course she means that someone else should carry it. And probably carry Spyder too. And then she runs off down the corridor to circle round with the band and make a plan to GTFO of this place and up on the stage where they belong.


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Last edited by lostcheerio; Mar 17th, 2021 at 03:25 PM.
  #39  
Old Mar 17th, 2021, 11:24 AM
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Baron de Boom
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Given the "all clear" from justKuqi, BdKuqi heads back to the chambers.

He rejoices when he sees that Spyder is out and well, but doesn't partake in the execution ... after all, nothing good ever comes from a whip and this is, all things considered, Uncle Mort's little boy.

Coming back to the chamber, he greets all who remained there, places a healing spell on Kuqi, shows her the bottle and asks what she can tell them about Berf, removing the collar, Petunia, the security system around the complex, the hidden chamber on the second floor ... and anything else they might need to know.

Of course, he does this while proffering the best canned vitamins, and heating up the last orange mushrooms to take as a treat to the bugbears.

 


 

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Old Mar 17th, 2021, 03:54 PM
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As Lily withdrew in the Void, Hingalon took a step back and assessed the situation.

"So. If I understand correctly, you're telling me that Berf is a... caterpillar in a bottle? And here we have Dragar, and I see Spyder sort-of alive, so... huge success? I think we deserve a good pat on our collective backs. We did some notable things in our dungeon-delving, swords-for-hire days, but I think we really surpassed ourselves here."

"Now, I'm not really fond of killing, and the same attitude is shared by little Lily there, as much as it may surprise you. I think we should let Spyder and Kuqi choose the fate of the respective... oh Spyder, sure, do your thing... what are you d--"

<Slash! Re-slash!>

"...OK, I guess the Dragar part is decided. We still have to decide what to do with Berf. He and his posse kidnapped the band, but that was sort of, y'know, work? Not leisure or, say, cannibalism. So what I'm saying it, personally I would be ready to cut him some slack. Maybe. Plus, it would be nice to get out without further bloodshed. Kuqi, though... she's had a totally different experience, so, as I said, I think that she really should call the shots here."

Mmmh, I've got the sensation that the bugbear will end up like Dragar did here?
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Last edited by stepanxol; Mar 17th, 2021 at 03:55 PM.
  #41  
Old Mar 17th, 2021, 04:12 PM
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Nearly Lost You
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Yes. They had him. This was the Slashers at their best. Brought on by the worst. They would make this sleeping wiener suffer. The snoring told Lofwyr they had time to get creative.

But, what is this? Stumbling down the tunnel. Can it be? It is! How? Doesn't matter. "Spyder! Not even death can keep you from a gig! That's so metal man! Look what we found for you." Lofwyr said with a smile.

And with a few flicks of his wrist and some cold words, Spyder snuffed the candle that once burned alongside his own, although less brightly. "Do any of you have one of those potions." was all the drow said after it was done.

Lofwyr quickly reached into his pink shoulder bag and produced a glass bottle for the Lute God. "Drink deep my friend." After handing over the potion of greater healing, the skald put a hand on Spyder's shoulder and Healing Hands (8 hp)released the small amount of healing his birthright granted.

"Berf dies. Along with anyone else who stands in our way. We cut this one some slack and it almost cost us a friend." Lofwyr said coldly.Then, he would scoop up the tiefling corpse and return to Mordanda's chambers to help plot their escape.

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  #42  
Old Mar 17th, 2021, 04:44 PM
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Durza
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Durza is many things, not least amongst them 200 pounds of rippling, flexible, prime chartreuse beefcake. When Spyder reappeared, miraculously, from the dead, he wanted her to get involved in an execution. But one of the things Durza definitely is not is an executioner.

Actually she makes a fairly poor murderer all round, and whenever the band are in some dungeon or other wailing on this week's monster, Durza is normally making the case for some kind of peaceable solution, like "why don't we cure the rabid boars and train them to wear little hats instead of just slaughtering them", or "maybe the sorceress's daughter only stole the Book of Vile Darkness because she is an edgy teenager, and with some proper role models and not being murdered dead by adventurers, she might become a fine, upstanding member of the community?"

She gives the rope to someone else and busies herself elsewhere with the Baron while the other Slashers do the thing. Durza went from bold indifference to Dragar all the way to blind orc rage at Dragar, but that doesn't make one a murderer.

Dergu has this piece where he talks to the other orcs about restitution over retribution, and how revenge isn't the same thing as justice. The other orcs boo and throw rocks at him, but Durza likes it. It makes sense to Durza to not murder people, and even though Dragar murdered Spyder, was it really proportionate for Spyder to narrator: yes, obviously, screw that guymurder him right back? Durza doesn't think in these exact words, of course, she doesn't have Dergu's range and depth of words and learning and... but. But she feels a sadness that she can't explain, like the downdraft of some cosmic balance shifting from one side to the other.

When Spyder comes back from his business, she puts a thick arm around him anyway. You might not always agree with your friends' actions, but they're still your friends, aren't they? "Spyd, our kid, yer look hangin'."


Action Block and Stat Block
Initiative:
Saving throws:
Free Action: History check (12) original post
Move:
Action: Cast Cure Wounds on Spyder, regain
Dice Cure wounds, Level 1:
1d8+2 (8)+2 Total = 10
(10) Hit Points
Reaction:
Bonus Action: Cast Healing Word on Spyder, regain
Dice Healing Word, Level 1:
1d4+2 (4)+2 Total = 6
(6) Hit Points
Condition:
Concentrating:

 


  #43  
Old Mar 17th, 2021, 07:23 PM
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A breath
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Spyder, it is never too late for YOU to make an entrance. You dispatch Dragar with restraint. (RIMSHOT! SHOUT OUT for the Loviatarians in the crowd, we'll be in Vallos all week, TRY THE VEAL! Or the moss-veal substitute!) And when he is dead, the world is better. Because here is the cold hard factual truth that the heart of Durza wishes wasn't true, that your dreaming Hin denies: As long as he was breathing, he was coming for you. Not to fight it out with instruments. Not even to fight it out with weapons. To sneak, to poison, to throat-slit. His soul was so small, it could fit inside a tic-tac, and he could not bear to have you breathing; you were like a mirror held up to his own inadequacies. This is not what you believe, Spyder. This is a fact. Had you released him, you'd have been back in Banehold before your next birthday.

You pickup Genevieve and she is SO the same, so familiar, that you are almost back to Mordanda's apartment when you realize---Oh. She is the same as the lute you have been using for the last two hundred years/36 seconds. She is restored. Loviatar? Probably. She reallllly likes you. And the fact that she restored Genevieve in Dragar's possession is on brand. It's mean, but it also shows total faith that you would reclaim what is yours.

As for that 200 years? Yes. They changed you. In several ways. Notably, you have matured as a musician. Is it Genevieve, or is it you? Maybe both. Better together. But the specifics of your time in Banehold are fading. You were dead then. You are alive now. And your breathing, earthy self cannot hold eternity the way you could then. It all seems like a dream. Red sand, scars, some kinda elephant-thing playing brass? Ooookay, sure. There will be a time for that. Now? NOW you are having your one precious unrepeated life, and you are a SLASHER! You have a contest to win!

Jane you refrain from hug-killing Spyder (HONESTLY! THERE SHOULD BE A PRIZE!) and maul Durza and Lof, then take the rope for Durza. You always do this. She isn't a finisher. And that one time, the frog monster. It turned out to be nice. It's good to have her. But Dragar? NOPE! You haul joyfully on the rope with your Converse skidding in the sewage and you get wonderful rope burns and then he is dead and THAT is also wonderful. You bounce up and down and sing and bounce and wish you still had your own rez mushroom so you could get Dragar up and kill him again slower. You threw it somewhere and then apparently Durza threw it somewhere else. Oh well JUSTIN has one, doesn't he? Yes Justin does. But he is already going to get the abandoned axe and bug shield and heading for the apartment.

Lofwyr fight as much as you like; you are a war god's get. You understand the necessary. You hold that forker, then you hand Spy a potion, heal him with your hands, and then you play Spyder-Proxy and get mauled half to death by an exuberant Jane, who wants you to tote the corpse. For the poop room? No! For SCIENCE! Jane has a point! Where did Rarar's body go? Perhaps Dragar can do one damn useful thing, and offer answers by being dragged off or eaten or reanimated by The Whatever.

As you head back to Mordanda's apartment, you remember a dream you had. It was weird. In it, Prinkle-Poo, Handso Handy's dead gnome bonafide, was all deflated by an underground river. Oh wait, that happened. But then she got up like a sock puppet with a ghostly hand in it and CUSSED. YOU. OUT. I never liked you EITHER, Skald, she said. But when I landed down here and saw YOU had also been kidnapped, WHICH BY THE WAY, you were TOOTING. YOU TOOTED! IN YOUR SLEEP! But anyway, when I saw you had also been kidnapped, I figured, YOU had not done this to me. Because even though I HATED YOU, why would the kidnapper kidnap himself!?

Hrm. It was a dream. But. You ARE an unapologetic sleep tooter! Jane, who is one of those people who, if she tastes something rotted, wants everyone else to taste it, too, to ratify the experience, says it makes you a better blanket. But anyway, it occurs to you, even though Prinklepoo was what Durza would call "a weedy" or a "dropsy" or who knows, a SOMETHING Durzaful, even though she was awful, you kept on suspecting her without looking at the evidence. And you wonder---if all of you slashers put your heads together... You might have all you need to know who put you here. Even if you do not, between your dreams and the witnesses you have interrogated or could interrogate, you could for HELLA sure whittle the list DOWN. Maybe way down. Hrm. You tell Jane about it because you tell Jane everything and Jane stills. Almost like she is... thinking?

Weird.

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Durza, Bobby leaps off Spyder and runs across the sewer floor to climb you like a tree. Rita holds her little pink paws out to you, eyes bugging desperately, and you realize she doesn't want to touch the floor. SO fastidious, this one. Yes, it is a little sewage-y, but hey, life smells. Still she holds her little paws out. If you get her, fine, if not, her loyalty is greater than her squeamishness. She will run down Spyder and to you. As you walk, you have a faint ping of a dream. Very faint. The night you all were kidnapped. Was Nuvian there? In the VIP room. Urg. You THINK she was. It is faintly, remotely possible that she is telling the truth about what happened. Nothing you remember contradicts her version.

As you head back to the apartment beside Lofwyr and his gross pink burden, Rita tugs your braid, noses your ear, looks at Lofwyr. She looks significantly at Lofwyr. Then at you. Braid Tug. Nose Ear. Lofwyr.

Just him. No other slashers. Repeat. You wanted to talk to her before. Now, it's almost like she wants to talk to you. Not Bobby. Bobby is very clearly wondering what tiefling ear tastes like. No one needs Speak to Animals to get THAT. Rita does it again, 1, 2, 3: Braid, Ear, Lofwyr.

Hingalon, you and the Baron-uqi want to talk to your fellow small. Hin, you are kinda hoping for a Berfdemption narrative. Jane---who has seen the blood of Kuqi caked in Berf's toenails from where he and his Mercs kicked her back and forth like a hacky-sack almost to death just because she tried to cover for your band---gives you a wintry gaze when you mention it, but you are a dreamer. You want to see what Kuqi says...Maybe she will say, Oh, yes, well, Berf has his moods, but on the whole he is just your regular old workaday professional kidnapper with a heart of gold.

Back at the apartment, you find Kuqi has dragged herself up into the kitchen and is snapping at a huge hunk of venison flavored tofu. The Baron heals her and then gets cooking. All you slashers gather in the kitchen. Figgs and Nuvian and Snorkberth are still in the secret lower-Mordanda apartment. It's just Slashers and Kuqi.

Jane you are very interested in this conversation in that you want to kill Berf all the way immediately with murder. But you are having a MEMORY. Almost. It would require think. Or still. YOU JUST DID THAT. While walking. You almost did it. You walked QUIETLY. Mostly. With some yelling and punching Dragar's corpse. But to remember, you would have to sit down and maybe be ALL THE WAY STILL and THINK. Maybe it is about pigtails. Or pigs. Or soup? Are you hungry? Yes. You keep forgetting the thing the Baron is cooking is poison for a trick and trying to eat it because you are so distracted by a THING. You REMEMBER. WHAT IS IT. WHAT IS IT. You would know if you --- The Baron smacks your hands away from the hot mushrooms. Again.

Baron, you show Kuqi the bottle, and she shows you alllllll her teeth. She is pleased. She shakes it, rattling the bug, but not enough to reBerf it. Her lamplit eyes shine. She tells you, in common, which for her is always a little more stilted and less fluid than her Ghuliak, but non-gobs you love are present, and she is polite. Oh, I wish to eat him like a pill. SO! He has the key. On a collar in his neck. Not like this. Not like Mine. Like a chain? Gold. Disco. That key is my soul. Even if you had it in your hand, as long as he lives, it is his and he owns it. He traded his own to get the magic of it. He has no soul, and this makes pain and murder easy for him. He has no capacity for empathy. Now. For me? If the key exists and he can talk, when he says an order, if I hear it, I will do. He can yell loud in his True-form, maybe even 100 feet. If he tells me to call Petunia, I will. If he tells Petunia to kill you, she will. We will not like this. We will hate to hurt you. We will do it.

You ask about Berf: He is a merc. She shrugs. You want a person killed. He takes the money, he kills. You want a person tortured. He takes the money, he tortures. Kidnapped. Same. He has no rules. No code. No limits. He loves gold and Berf and nothing. His henchies are riffraffs. Baby eaters. She spits.

About the security system around the complex: The god shield. There are three shrines of Banehold. I know these. When any at all is up, no one can go in our out of the complex. Berf can turn them off in secret ways I do not know. But if even one is up, no one, in or out. I think...Loviatar is sleeping? And I think... she shoots an orange-glowing gaze around to Justin, Jane, lingering on Spyder. She likes you. So. She will not wake to block you. Also Bane himself. This is the hardest one, but I cannot smell that energy. Whatever powered Bane's statue is gone from the crypt. She looks at Lofwyr, narrows her eyes. Smiles.
left-aligned image
I do not understand the strange silence of the crypt of Bane. I feel an abdication. A seduction. Whatever powered Bane-Shrine is---Happy? I smell this happy like a stink upon your Skald. Only Gob-God left. But the Gob-God is no slacker. If you wish to leave, Mugubliet also must sleep. Close his eyes, and he will release you. This is all I can say. As Berf has---he is not the smartest, but I have standing orders he refreshes----this is all I can say of this shield.

The hidden chamber on the second floor: This is mine! My most secret place. Here in this sewers is another ladder. If you go up, you find my crawling tunnel I have burrowed through the stone wall. It lets you out in that secret place, on floor two. Password is BERFMUSTDIESCREAMING. There you can also find...my collection.

And anything else they might need to know: Like what? You feel she will tell you whatever she can, but she is not sure what is of use to you.

Jane, you are accidentally still because Kuqi is interesting. OH! This is what you dreamed. YOU KNOW. You did not want to remember. It is so terrible. SO terrible. You will die if it is true. You will die. But you dreamed it. And it is true. You explode into tentacles and die nine times, and it is still true.

Last time you were home, you were trancing in the goat pen. Deep. So deep. And your stupid awful sister who is terrible came upon you. And you were helpless and asleep and could not even bite her or know as she lay down behind you and held you tight tight tight correctly like a robe of Durza or a Durza, like a Hin or a gob shoved into a shape, like being between the hard bookend backs of two snoring pretty boys who are a color and a darkness, like the most perfection sleep tooting weight. She held you like a SLASHER, so you tranced on and DID NOT KNOW. Then she said. She said, so fierce, so mean. Jathyrilana, I AM GOING TO FIX IT. If it kills us, Jathyrilana. I will fix it.

That is all.





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Last edited by Fillyjonk; Mar 17th, 2021 at 07:42 PM.
  #44  
Old Mar 17th, 2021, 09:52 PM
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Justindanda wasn't there to witness Spyder lash his nemesis unto Baneholdlivion, so he didn't experience any moral discomfitude hearing about the tiefling's demise. "Eye for an eye, tooth for a tooth, slash for a slash," he said casually, handing Lofwyr his discarded weapons as they convened in the kitchen. "Had a chance to coz it might be MAGIC!scrutinize your new smasher yet, skald? Spyder, feeling drow-sy still? Here, have a shroom. Hmm, dejavu..."

Justin listened in silence as Kuqi answered BdK's questions, munching on tofu haunch. It was surprisingly gamey. "Hmm," he reflected. "Kuqis should have souls. Berfs must be beaten into pulp, then we can hive a nice little chat with the baby-eating bugbears beside big puppy Petunia. Would suggest poop room, but we need that chain. where Figgs and Nuvian hid beforeThe other room might be better; stomp on the pillar, stomp on bugbear. Sadly, you might need to stay in the kitchen, Kuqi."

Justindanda thought a bit more. Who would have imagined?? Justin thinking! Why, that was like saying Jane was thinking!

"Your secret room sounds lovely, Kuqi. Anything we can use there to help in the Berf-stomping?"

They needed to decide and move soon, since the hour of Polymorph was ticking away...


Justin's Mechanics last History check: 21

Move: the other room
Free Action:
Bonus Action: Cast Healing Word on Spy:regain
Dice Roll:
1d4+4 (3)+4 Total = 7
(7) Hit Points
Action:
Reaction:
Condition:
Concentrating:

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Status: Once more unto the sickbed...
  #45  
Old Mar 17th, 2021, 10:19 PM
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BdKuqi listens to everything that OGKuqi has to say, nods at Justin's question for an inventory of the secret room and calls out to Figgs.

"Mr. Pudding, agile and free, would you mind doing a hiding thing? Could you follow that tunnel that Kuqi just described and bring back anything from her secret spot that you think might be useful to her or to us? In fact, why don't you just bring everything you can and start with the most useful items ... if that's okay with you, Kuqi? Maybe Hingalon might venture with you if he doesn't have other plans?"

With his attention back to Kuqi he asks, "So...do you feel like going above ground and offering the rest of the crew these delicious mushrooms that your twin sister," and here he takes a bow, "just brought in with her as a treat for her *squeee!* surprise visit! Of course we were going to eat them, but Berf said to feed them to his favorite assistant *Sadface*"

The Baron then confers with any other band members in the area and listens to anything they might want to suggest or add, and then calls out: "Ok, Slashers! We've got our lead drowmeister back and our enemy is a cutey-wutey fuzzy-wuzzy boi! Things are looking up! We still have about 30 minutes until we need to assemble and be ready to bash a has-been caterpillar"...here, he hands the caterpillar to any Slasher (but only a slasher) who is staying down below and adds: "Let's get this caterpillar good and drunk—smash before we bash. Then we'll hurl him into the farthest reach of the poop tank and hit him with everything we got as he pukes and squeals for his mama-maul-maul! "

As he heads out, he notices how Lofwyr is looking at the maul the way ... well the way many mas look at Lofwyr. Absolute adoration.

"Here," BdKuqi says taking out his tools, "I transferred the arc fluidity and impact precision vector enhancements from the axe to the maul." He isn't sure if Lofwyr caught his drift. "I mean to say, that now she's your swinging magic baby."

And with that he hurries off to deliver the poison dish.

 


 

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