A Curious Courtship

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Log Info

  • Title: A Curious Courtship
  • Emitter: Telamon
  • Characters: Barclaiigh, Ravenstongue, Skielstregar, Vaera
  • Place: Alexandria - Sewers
  • Time: Jan 15, 2022
  • Summary: A strange entity in the sewers asks some ragtag adventurers to help them win the heart of Dungflower, another odd being, by giving a bag of an unknown substance as a gift. The adventurers make their way but are inconvenienced by quickly multiplying ochre jellies. The jellies are slain, Dungflower is given the bag, and all is well.
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=- Dramatis Personae =--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=- 
Skielstregar    A bronze/silver scale with fangs and empty eyes.
Ravenstongue    Short half-elf girl with violet eyes and black hair.
Barclaiigh      A thick tree-trunk of a dwarf. Wavy auburn hair, loos
Vaera           A tall, dark red Makari with a metallic leg.         
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-=--= As the GM -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=- 
Telamon         A platinum-blond half-sil man with dancing dark eyes

Once again, into the sewers.

The instructions were surprisingly clear as to where to go, and as the party follows them down into the depths, they might realize the tunnels down here are a lot... cleaner, maybe, than what might be expected. The smell, however, hasn't improved much. It's rank and redolent with all the charming scents to be found in a city's sewer system, the stones of the walls decorated with a slight residue of filth and the occasional discolored plaque bearing an inscrutable notation to tell those rare workers who come down here where they actually are.

The note indicates you should enter into the next chamber on the right, and announce yourselves.

There is a massive, armed makari man following down the tunnels, each step clanking with metal from his plated tail. Silver scales fight with tarnished bronze in a vitiligo-like pattern across his face. One that scrunches from the scent. "Back down here again..." he rumble sighs.

"You're telling me," the half-elf girl behind the makari says, huffing as she follows close to the man. "I didn't think I'd have to come back down here again. Here's hoping that there's not another adventurer I accidentally charm into falling in love with me waiting at the other end."

The pale raven on her shoulder laughs at the notion. "Haw-ha-ha-ha-ha. Haw-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha."

"You're not helpful, Pothy." Dried fruits are offered to the bird, and he accepts this bribe for his silence. For now.

Barclaiigh has a big bear! Really! Well, it's not that big, really, and Porter doesn't like the sewers. Maybe it's the smell. Maybe it's the company. Maybe it's just that time of year and he wants to sleep.

Good-bye sewers! Hi, 'bernation.

So the barrel-chested wall of a dwarf's bare feet slap and squelch through the sewers without the accompaniment of bear feet. His sandals are looped into his belt and flip-flop against his backside as he walks, apparently more interested in keeping them clean than stepping in the muck with his fat toes.

He has a tattered bit of cloth tied around the bottom part of his face and his beard pokes out from behind it at every angle. Pure chaos. "... spend so much time down here th' guild should spring fer some magicked flowery smells. Might still be walkin' in scat but it could at least smell've roses."

"Yes, back down here. Sewers tend to be where shadier folk gather, as guard patrols range from light to nonexistent through them. That is not to say that nothing wanders keeping an eye on them, though." Vaera chuffs, a large, but not nearly as imposing makari who was joining them. "Luckily, it seems like this one already has a suitor, Ravenstongue, so you should likely be alright. But, do not use any magic like that just in case."

Stepping into the large chamber, and calling out, your voice echoes a bit. Then there's a shuffling sound in the dark, and a guttural, watery voice mumbling, "No, that's not how it works... ah, that's it!" Then a surprising flare of light in the gloom, and a vast bulk approaches on three thick, powerful legs, the body only broken by a huge mouth. The stink actually gets a little worse, as the massive creature holds up a common lantern in one tentacle, a second waving around and a third studded with eyes and adorned with a shockingly-clean broad brimmed hat with a huge feather stuck in it.

"Greetings and salutations! You must have approached and come here from the adventuring guild! Most wonderful and pleasing to make your encounter and acquaintance! I am Garbonzo the Foul," and here the monstrous thing lets out a thunderous belch. "Ah. Excuse me. And I need your help and assistance for which you will of course be renumerated and compensated for."

Skieltregar blinks as the watery voice reveals itself. Confusion and dumbfoundedness comes from him. His first instinct is to get buckle down, but seeming how kind they were, he couldn't help but be disarmed.

But, he couldn't let out anything aside from an 'uhh...' Closing his jaw with a clack, he steps to the side slightly, letting the more... eloquent among them to parse this... oddity. "Hello."

Ravenstongue just stares at the... the entity. The thing that shares a name with a bean. Finally, she says, "Umm. You know, 'the Foul' isn't the kind of moniker most people introduce themselves with," she says. "Not the nicest branding or best first impression. But yes, hello!"

Pothy looks more interested in the thing's name, his little white head perking up at the mention of garbanzos. "Snacks?"

"No, Pothy, that's just... Umm, that's their...? Name." Ravenstongue bribes him again with more dried fruit.

"Somethin' t'be said about truth'n advertisin', though." Bar counters Ravenstongue, too busy eyeing the gigantic aberration to glance her direction. The sausage-fingers not holding his spear like a walking staff come up and scratch at his temple. The Khazad decides to offer a wave and bobs his head in agreement with the monster's assessment.

"Right. A job done fer pay. Like th'witches say: what's Foul is Fair, 'pparently..."

Vaera blinks, and takes a step back from the group, before she sighs and nods her head. She should not be surprised given the location they were asked to visit, but she was more curious how they actually managed to get the posting put up. A question for another time.

"Well, you are honest at least, though I wonder why you would choose foul as your own descriptor." Vaera states. "As long as their is no foul play with this, I see no reason why we can not help. Though, I can not help but wonder why you do not do so yourself?"

"Ah! Well, we're... a bit on the outs, she and I. And I'm trying to make amends and reciprocations. Last time I paid a call she just told me to leave, but she didn't throw things at me or try to hit me, so perhaps she's not so angry. Erm. Hopefully she's eating though. Very distracting to be hungry."

Garbonzo reaches behind it with his free tentacle, dragging around a heavy burlap sack. "And then a two-legged person came blundering and wandering down my way, and told me about how you could hire two-legged fellows to get anything done! They were very insistent, so I gave them a few shinies and asked them to post my plea! Clearly, my faith was not lost or misplaced."

Garbonzo gestures at the closed burlap sack. "Take this down to the third left and make sure to make a bit of noise. If you surprise her, she might get cross and unhappy. Tell her it's from Garbonzo, and he would like to see her again. Oh, er... also, watch out for lizards in the water. I caught one last week."

Skiel tilts his head to the side at the explanation and... whatever is in the sack. A sigh leaves him. He's going to have to carry the sack, isn't he?

His head swings one way, then another, before eventually one more sigh. He steps forward, and picks up the closed gift, not even daring to look at what its contents would be. "And thisss..." he hisses in his Tradespeak, ".. ssssuitor? What might we addresss them by?"

The large sith-makar flinches as he adjusts the bag to fit better in his grasp. ".... Dragonfather pressserve...." he grumble mumbles.

Ravenstongue certainly isn't volunteering to carry the load. Not that she looks like she's very capable of it. She does look a little less impressed with their employer, but she just sighs and says, "Well, an adventure's an adventure, and I need to save up to buy a house for..." She flushes a little and shakes her head. "Let's just get going."

"'n is yer chickpea another... uh, critter like yerself?" Barclaiigh could carry the sack but he's not going to fight the sith-makar fella for it. So he's happy to hang back and give an over-animated shrug. He goes to tippy-toe and cranes his neck trying to see down the tunnel indicated by Mr. the Foul.

The Khazad-aul lands flat-footed with a little splash and his little eyes squint up at the monstrosity. He's smiling behind the rag-cum-facemask but that can't exactly be seen.

"Ah yes, buying houses. Because people in the cities are too stuck in their own heads to allow their fellows to build a home without filling their own pockets in the process." Vaera sighs. "Well, I would rather not be caught off guard in the process, and people do not like being walked in on without notice."

"You don't seem to wish to carry that package, Skielstregar." She notes. "I can instead, if needed. But ah, yes. Please tell us what to expect with the one we are seeking."

"Oh! She is Dungflower, and yes, she is indeed a--" he makes a garbled sound, "--like myself. Don't worry, she's been eating regularly and often so she should be in a good mood." Garbonzo gestures the party down the appropriate corridor. "Run along now! And if you could, please come back and let me know how things went!"

With that, the creature leaves you to walk away down the indicated path, where it joins into a major waterway for the sewers. The water, however, looks... unpleasant, littered with ...material. The smell's not great either. One has to wonder if the creature bathes in this effluent.

Skiel blinks owlishly as the creature goes away, and he looks down at the bag in his hands. He winces at the stench, then turns to the group. "Nay, Vaera. Thisss one can bear it..." he shakes his head. "Let usss go... speak with this, erm, Dungflower."

He's going to the TarRaCe after this.

"Dungflower and Garbanzo. Perfect pairing." Ravenstongue doesn't seem fully convinced of her own statement. She does keep a watch out for those lizards that Garbanzo mentioned.

Pothy looks a little put out that there are no garbanzos and people keep bringing them up. There's no beans for Pothy. Not where they're going.

"Ever think yer ancestors are craftin' up in Roa's great stone halls and laughin' cuz you decided t'follow th'Word? ... Think about that alot, times like these." Bar is using his speartip to scratch at his back as the creature trundles off. "... but, y'know? The lizardperson version. Dragonfather, whuzzit? Or the Lady of Inspiration." He looks at Ravenstongue for the last one, assuming she worships Ceinara being such a heartbreaker.

"Ah, well. No beers t'cry in. Lets git'er done." Slap, slap, slap go his feet towards the deluge of awful offal.

"It seems we are not getting more information out of them." Vaera chuckles,jogging out happily with the others as they are on their way. "If you are sure, Skielstregar. And, I do not know which god you speak of."

She tops at the edge of the water, and shakes her head. "I should have expected the path would be underwater. Allow me a minute please, to water proof one of my weapons. Just in case they do decide that we are not welcome, in any severe way."

<OOC> Telamon says, "Anyways. Make perception checks."
GAME: Barclaiigh rolls Perception: (3)+10: 13
GAME: Skielstregar rolls perception: (12)+8: 20
GAME: Ravenstongue rolls Perception: (18)+4: 22
GAME: Vaera rolls perception +2: (12)+10+2: 24

As the quartet head along the path next to the water, all manner of effluvia can be seen floating past in the opposite direction. But then you might notice something... peculiar. It looks like a huge mass of orange-yellowed fat, initially floating on top of the water... but then suddenly it moves across the flow, slopping up against the edge of the path and starting to rise up with a wet, GLORPING sound!

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- ATTENTION -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Telamon has dropped a TIMESTOP!


Ravenstongue takes one look at that... thing... and she backs up. Well, a lot of backing up. "Hold on tight, Pothy," Ravenstongue murmurs, spinning around and getting a good berth between her and the creature. She has no intention of becoming food today.

Skielstregar gasps lightly at the sudden burst of action, the gross bag is dropped behind him and shoved away with a foot as he takes out his halberd from its frog. "Take the bag, thisss one will interpossse!" he hisses, ducking some in preparation.

Vaera was in the process of jamming a prying tool into the side of one of her firearms, when she catches sight of the mixture that is congealing on the waters surface. "Be wary, that is not inanimate!" she warns as it slips onto the solid ground, and she ducks back down the hall to gain more space.

GAME: Telamon rolls 1d20+5: (19)+5: 24 (to hit Skielstregar)
GAME: Telamon rolls 2d4+3: (6)+3: 9 (damage)
GAME: Telamon rolls 1d4: (1): 1 (damage)
GAME: Telamon rolls 1d20+11: (7)+11: 18 (slime tries to grab Skielstregar and fails)

The horrid yellow-orange ooze rears up... and up... out of the water, like a tidal wave of sludge, stinking and terrible as it looms over Skielstregar. A pseudopod strikes out, slapping at the makar and slamming into him, but the warrior is able to slip free before it can curl around him. The acrid scent of corrosives fill the air.

<OOC> Vaera says, "point blank shot, deadly aim"
GAME: Vaera rolls 1d20+9 +1 -2: (9)+9+1+-2: 17 (to hit)
GAME: Vaera rolls 1d12+4+1: (12)+4+1: 17 (bludgeoning damage)

Vaera flinches when the creature seems to strike at Skielstregar, and she was already moving when the bag was dropped. The hunter pulls out her firearm, locking it into form as she shoulders the weapon, and takes aim. She wasn't sure exactly where to try to hit, but it seemed like disrupting as much of the mass as possible was ideal. The thunderbelcher rings, rather loudly in the enclosed waterway, as the projectile thuds soundly into the monster.

GAME: Ravenstongue casts Magic Missile. Caster Level: 4 DC: 15
GAME: Ravenstongue rolls 2d4+2: (2)+2: 4 (force damage)

"Here goes nothing," Ravenstongue murmurs, before she chants a little under her breath, magic gathering in her hands. She throws the magic, and they turn into little darts that lock onto the strange ooze. Doesn't seem to do much at all, but it's something.

Pothy laughs and Ravenstongue gives him a dirty look. "You try casting magic, birdbrain!" she rebukes.

GAME: Skielstregar rolls weapon12: (11)+9: 21 (to hit, slashing damage so splits the jelly)

Skielstregar grunts as he's thwacked, but manages to shove it back before things get worse. A familiar gunshot makes him flinch, and missles fly over head. Winding up a heavy swing, the large markari cleaves it in twain. "Hah!"

There's two pieces now.

His brain takes a moment...

"... ah. Scales."

GAME: Barclaiigh rolls Weapon7-1: (12)+6+-1: 17 (power attack)

Bar was at a bit of a loss when the group at large started readying for combat. Why was everyone so alarmed by what was clearly some kind of oversized, soiled baby's diaper? Waitaminute...!

Battle is joined and the druid mutters a self-deprecating curse in Khazadul. Slap, slap, slap! Go his feet as he steps in behind the sith-makar holding the line. "Yeeargh!" He thrusts the glowing spearhead into the unpleasantly-colored creature, piercing it straight through and letting it split again.

"Cousin-kissin' son of a...! Gobbers don't even double that fast after a pokin'." He grumbles.

GAME: Telamon rolls 1d20+5: (9)+5: 14 (jelly attacks Skiel, misses)
GAME: Telamon rolls 1d20+5: (17)+5: 22 (jelly attacks Bar, hits)
GAME: Telamon rolls 1d20+5: (16)+5: 21 (jelly attacks Bar, hits)
GAME: Telamon rolls 6d4+6: (14)+6: 20 (damage to Bar)
GAME: Telamon rolls 1d20+11: (17)+11: 28 (jelly grapple check on Bar, succeeds)
GAME: Telamon rolls 1d20+11: (9)+11: 20 (jelly grapple check on Bar, succeeds)

Now there are three jellies. Smaller, but no less lethal. The larger one lunges at Skielstrager again, evidently having developed a taste for makari, but he's able to fend it off with the haft of his halberd. Barclaiigh, unfortunately, is not so lucky, acid burning into the hapless dwarf as the horrid little slimes wrap around his arm and leg and start trying to eat away at him like a goblin at the all-you-can-eat buffet line.

<OOC> Vaera says, "pbs deadly aim"
GAME: Vaera rolls 1d20+9+1 -2: (14)+9+1+-2: 22 (to hit)
GAME: Vaera rolls 1d12+4+1: (12)+4+1: 17 (bludgeoning damage)

Vaera blinks when one large slime suddenly becomes 2, which becomes three. And now there were several on Barclaigh. She takes a moment to put another bullet into the thunderbelcher, and fires again, sending another projectile to tear through much of the ooze. "It is not splitting when I strike it!" She shouts to the others.

GAME: Ravenstongue used a Wand of Burning Hands.
GAME: Telamon rolls 1d20-3: (3)+-3: 0 (jelly reflex save, fails)
GAME: Ravenstongue rolls 1d4: (2): 2 (fire damage)

Ravenstongue grumbles a little about this jelly situation. What doesn't help is Pothy nudging her hair asking, "Jelly snack?"

"No, not snack." Ravenstongue takes a certain wand looted off a dead wizard's body and activates it, burning the ooze that Vaera and Skielstregar are wailing on. She's nowhere as effective as they are in combat, but she's trying.

GAME: Skielstregar RAGES!, gaining +2 to melee attack/damage/Will saves and 8 temporary HP
GAME: Skielstregar rolls weapon12: (19)+12: 31 (power attack)
GAME: Skielstregar rolls damage12+6: aliased to 1d10+9+6: (2)+9+6: 17

Skiel is harried from other fronts, not just physically, but with choices. Seeing as Barc went from doing fine to not doing fine. In a... surprisingly controlled manner, the silver/bronze makari's visage sprouts another set of fangs as black ichor seeps from his scales and drips from his weapon. "Leave him be...!" Skiel growls at the jelly, bringing the axe head up... and down in a fell cleave. It splatters into nothing this time. "Stay that way...!"

<OOC> Barclaiigh says, "Alright. I'll try to break grapple and 5' back"
GAME: Barclaiigh rolls CMB: (7)+5: 12 (success)

Barclaiigh has lost his raggedy bandana in the gloop and sizzling and his stacked hide armors smell none-too-great after being chemically cooked for a handful of seconds. The dwarf pushes and stumbles back, awkwardly, with his skin burned and bubbling.

GAME: Telamon rolls 1d20+5: (8)+5: 13 (jelly goes for Skiel, fails)
GAME: Telamon rolls 1d20+5: (19)+5: 24 (the other jelly also goes for Skiel, hits)
GAME: Telamon rolls 3d4+3: (6)+3: 9 (damage)
GAME: Telamon rolls 1d20+11: (12)+11: 23 (grapple check on Skiel, success)

The tide is turning, somewhat. Raven scorches one of the smaller slimes, while Skiel smashes another to bits and Barclaiigh manages to pry the third off him before it eats him. As the fire-blackened jelly lunges clumsily at Skiel, missing, the one Bar scraped off latches onto Skiel's ankle and starts eating into it, hissing and popping noises coming from the obnoxious wad of corrosive ambulatory snot.

GAME: Vaera rolls 1d20+6: (19)+6: 25 (aid on Skielstregar)

Vaera moves closer as the fire wears down one of the creatures, but now, there was one on Skielstregar's leg. She pulls a large hammer out of her jacket, and uses it to help shove it off of Skielstregar.

GAME: Ravenstongue casts Magic Missile. Caster Level: 4 DC: 15
GAME: Ravenstongue rolls 2d4+2: (3)+2: 5

Ravenstongue doesn't like the look of that thing eating Skielstregar's ankle. She throws another burst of magic missiles into the ooze, but it's still not enough. She's grinding her teeth together. "Damn it."

GAME: Skielstregar rolls cmb+2: (11)+9+2: 22 (breaks grapple, success)

Skiel snarls as his foot hisses from the acid, him starting to yank off a hatchet to deal with it, but then rescales start to help him out. He almost snaps at Vaera, but he stops himself, being face to face with her. Crimson eyes the same shade as her scales. He huffs a black-laced cloud and follows her tug, pulling himself free and yanking up a shield to protect not only himself, but the kin behind him. "Thankssss..." he snaps out at her.

She knew he didn't mean anything rude by it.

GAME: Barclaiigh casts Stone Call. Caster Level: 3 DC: 16
GAME: Barclaiigh rolls 2d6: (10): 10

"'lright, Truffles," Barclaiigh pants, reaching up into his furs and pulling out a quartet of boar's tusks. He brushes bleeding lips close and mutters a secret phrase in druid cant. A hot blast of air tears throught the sewers kicking up dust and debris into the briefest of whirlwinds. The scree, chipped cobbles, and more firm bits of sewage batter the remaining oozes before settling in scattered piles. "... that'll do, pig."

And then the sewers are quiet after the crash of stones and dust... until a querlous, gurgling voice demands, "What all this noise? Who're YOU?"

Standing obstinately a short distance away from the mess is... well, another one of those three-legged monstrosities, glaring with its eye-tentacle at you as you stand there.

"Why you here? Go 'way now! You not supposed to be here!" It stomps a squat foot in annoyance.

GAME: Skielstregar ends his rage.

Skiel huffs once.... twice... then, the miasma stops its leakage, and his face returns to a seemingly normal, single set of fanged self. He sighs, looking a little tired as he puts his weapons away. Only to pause in hesitation as some else comes up!


It's Dungflower for sure.

"... uh..." he waffles a bit, reaching behind him and picking up the bag from before and holding it out.

Vaera Manages to shove the slime away just in time to step back to avoid the worst of the debris, and when she opens her eyes again, the slimes were almost completely unmoving. "That worked out well." Vaera chuffs. She didn't seem too bothered by the reaction. "Are you alright, dwarf? I have some healing magic if you need, but not much. Still, better than being scalded."

She looks down to her hammer, which had a few pitted marks where it was shoved against the slime, before the creature makes itself known. "Well, yes, there is no reason for us to not be here. But we do not need much of your time for the moment."

"Dungflower? Do you know a Dungflower? Are you her? If you are, we have a gift for you from Garbanzo, and if not--well, we'd appreciate some guidance finding her." Ravenstongue folds her arms, walking up a bit closer to the... creature. She might not be good in combat, but she's good at diplomacy.

"Same damned things did in m'poor Truffles." Barclaiigh laments, leaning heavily against the sewer wall for support. The Khazadi wildman is still on his feet but covered in chemical burns and bloody boils. "Had a magic club fer that. Spear was a gift from m'auntie..."

Catching his breath, he reaches into a pouch and finds a plump, juicy currant and pops it into his mouth. Small eyes close and he sighs in relief as the warmth of the goodberry courses through his body. It's not the most robust of healing magics but anything feels nice in this situation.

"Got a kit if'n I need it, thanks, miss." He waves off Vaera graciously, managing a smile.

"Dungflower me," the creatures grunts. "Garbonzo? What he want?" A hooked tentacle deftly takes the sack from Skiel, and opens it. The monster pauses, the eyes on its stalk widening, and one could swear it dimples at the corners of its huge mouth. "...Oh." Like a girl given flowers or candied treats. Dungflower taps a foot, then lets out a gurgling laugh. "You go now back up. I go see Garbonzo. He always know how to make me happy."

Skielstregar blinks tiredly, surprised that whatever gnarly thing in that bag was a good gift for this... being. "With... uh... pleassssure..." he mumble rumbles, reaching for Vaera's shoulder to steady his fatigued self.

"Well, that was easy!" Ravenstongue says happily. She claps her hands together. "Let's go back to the surface and... hope we get paid." She frowns a little. "Here's hoping Garbanzo sends us the money."

"G'rbanzo'll be happy t'know how you've bean." Barclaiigh manages once he's found his breath. He pushes away from the wall and starts back the other direction with a little less vigor in his step than when they'd tromped down. He pats the remains of his old friend and tucks the thong away under his singed furs.

Porter is napping, no doubt, and curling up on the lanky bear's fur and sleeping for a week sounds rather nice. Maybe a big meal first after they're paid by the one stinky tripod monster for smoothing things over with his tripod monster girlfriend.

"City's fuckin' weird, Truffles..."

"Well, you are welcome. I am sure that they would be happy for you to visit." Vaera chuffs, seeing the gift accepted fairly readily. "Just, remember that people may pass through this area, and it is not to offend you or you living here. If any give you trouble, then say such to the guards."

She takes several steps back before turning around, and making her way out of the sewers.