Bob clambers back up the ladder in search of a convenient plank of wood, but there is a distinct paucity of 12-foot-long planks in this particular alley. Gordok must needs find some other way back across.

Gordok carefully examines both the orc's body and the cake itself for any mysterious shenanigans. Both the orc's leather armor and his crossbow seem entirely mundane, but his quiver — aha!

A dozen highly unusual crossbow bolts rest in the otherwise ordinary quiver. Affixed to each bolt is a brittle-looking glass canister full of some viscous grey fluid. A quick examination of the cake indicates the function of these canisters — the bolt in the cake has exploded messily all over, securing the cake and its table to the wall with a mass of translucent ropey goo not unlike a huge spiderweb. The cake itself appears to be a highly dense fruitcake, unfit even for an orc's crude palate. The bolt has only penetrated the fruitcake by a fraction of an inch.

http://www.ddwiki.saxypunch.com/imag...Spiderbolt.png (x12)

Delic looks around for something to grab onto. A nook in the wall? A foothold to secure his boot? A willing, wet orifice to jam his hand into?

Perception Check

Gordok is perplexed by this strange gooey web that holds the cake prisoner. He relays this discovery back to the horde awaiting their fine advice on the removal of thick and sticky translucent goo.

"Can we burn it away?"

"Really? Burn it? I mean it's strong fruit cake and all but well... any other approaches?"

Gordok pulls out a lute from seemingly nowhere and begins to strum a nice melody and hum along while he waits for another answer. As he strolls over to lean against the wall the halfling starts feeling the odd sensation of air pockets forming below his tootsies bubbling his weight above the surface of the water. This would make his journey back to entrance considerably easier. Especially whilst carrying a heavy cake. For now his song echos throughout the sewer.

Water Walk

Casting my mind back to all those enchanted weapon lessons, I tried to remember what the best way to dissolve a magical web solution was.

Arcana check

Delic suddenly looks about hurriedly for some form of handhold. As it turns out, the ladder was exactly where he had left it. How handy. He clings to it, for reasons known only to himself.

(Put the Arcana check in #26)

Gordok relays the cake's particular chemical plight to the rest of the Horde, and Bob muses on what could possibly dissolve the adhesive bonds.

Alchemical glues like this were, indeed, usually flammable — excessively so. While the cake does seem unusually damage-resistant it seems unlikely to survive the eruption of burning fumes that would result from applying an open flame to the coagulated gunk, to say nothing of what would happen to the halfling.

Acids could break down the goo with significantly less collateral damage, although the cake is still likely to suffer some scarring.

Careful application of oils could detach the cake from its gooey imprisonment without any need to actually destroy the webbing at all, but the cake would be fairly inedible afterward or at the least extremely greasy.

Remembering that the pirate had bought some oil in our last shopping stop, I asked him if he had any spare, to facilitate the removal of the cake from the glue. Sure it'd taste a bit nasty afterwards but I wasn't convinced that the trip into the sewers in the hands of an orc was going to do much for the flavour anyway. All I needed now was a way across the swirling drain. I looked up, to see if there was anything swing-on-able above us, cursing my lack of concentration during water walking lessons at school.

The elf looked like he had a plan and even if he didn't he appeared to need a way past the drain. Gordok walks along the sides of the room across the water's surface for an escort.

Taking the proffered oil flask, I looked up to see the child happily strolling across the surface of the water, almost as if he had read my thoughts. If this child had studied water walking then who was to say he hadn't also studied mind reading! Never having been a fan of the idea of people poking around unwanted in my mind, I made a mental note to fashion some form of mind reading defence helmet at the earliest opportunity.

Still, I was never one to look a gift horse in the mouth and took the child's hand, allowing myself to be escorted safely over the surface of the rushing water to where the cake sat on the table.

Using the rag stuffed in the oil bottle, I smeared the oil over the affected bits of the cake, trying not to splash too much about and hoping to free the cake from the sticky web stuff. Almost as an after-thought, I broke off a tiny piece of cake from the un-sticky side and gave it a nibble.

Gordok kindly hefts the elf and the elf's 84 pounds of gear onto his shoulders, carrying Bob across the dangerous whirlpool. It had been some years since Bob's last piggy-back ride, and the sense of nostalgia was enthralling. But moments later, the halfling unceremoniously dumps him next to the cake.

It's slow work greasing up the cake, but after sufficiently lubrication Bob is able to gently wiggle the dessert free from its imprisonment, leaving the glue-coated table as a mystery for the next sewer-dweller that happened to pass by. Despite being freed, the dense fruitcake is still incredibly heavy but Bob manages to lift it off the table with some effort. Bob attempts to filch a piece of the greasy cake, but it's much too dense for him to break apart with his hands.

Motsognir tosses some rope over to the Elf to tie up the cake, lest if fall down the drain. "Just wrap it round the sweet bits, honey." He says with a wink.

Gordok wasn't quite sure why or how he had managed to carry so much but he certainly wasn't about to do that again especially with the added load of a heavy cake. The halfling arches his back causing a few popping sounds to ring out throughout the sewer. Ahhh much better. Gordy holds onto part of the elf's robe to guide the cake-heaver back to the entrance.

Not willing to carry Bob again nor, evidently, willing to spend the components required to extend the water-walking ritual's effect to an additional person, Gordok simply grabs hold of Bob's robe and drags him along. With the secured cake-on-a-rope acting as ballast, Bob spends the entirety of the trip back across the drain face-down and entirely underwater. After what seems like an eternity of trying not to inhale, the halfling finally hauls him up by the hem of his robe. It takes the elf several minutes to slowly haul the cake-on-a-rope out of the whirlpool — the damned thing is heavy enough without dealing with water pressure. Still, the coating of flammable oil on the dessert keeps it from getting too waterlogged.

Thoroughly wet and bedraggled, Bob sets to wringing the water out of his robes before he even considers dragging the cake up the ladder and down the street.

Having been unceremoniously dragged back through the sewer, carrying what must have been the heaviest cake ever made, I spent a few moments drying myself off, giving the child my very best evil look all the time. Whether or not he could see the evil look behind my evil mask was debateable but it made me feel better.

Rather than attempt to drag the dead weight up the ladder, I thought I'd leave it for one of the several stronger members of our troupe. Taking the initiative, I slowly climbed the ladder to have a peek above ground level. The orc might have had some friends he had promised the cake to after all and it didn't pay to be caught unawares.

Bob carefully climbs back up the ladder again to have a look-see if anything's hanging around to prevent them returning the cake to its rightful owner. He sees nothing suspicious.

"Bring her up chaps, coast is clear". I climbed out of the Sewers and waited for the others.

Delic does not trust the cake.

He clings to the ladder in horror.

Motsognir heaves the cake up the ladder, because there weren't any other men in the group, evidently.

Cake-heaving is men's work.

Motsognir lugs the cake out of the drain, and slowly heaves it back to the bakery from whence it came. The pastry chef is all too thrilled to see his cake returned, as he practically bursts with effusive joy.

"Thank you", he burbles, tears streaming down his face.

"Thank you for bringing back my cake."

As he busily cleans the oil off the abused-but-seemingly-invincible cake, he relates to the Horde the story of the cake's bizarre nature.

"As you may have noticed, the cake is completely inedible. This is by design. You see, this is a birthday gift for the simbarch Seriadne, whose mouth disappeared in an unfortunate teleportation accident. Via an extremely unpleasant process her advisers developed a way to teleport food directly into her stomach, but together with a colleague of mine we found a better way.

The cake, you see, is in fact a cleverly-disguised Ioun Stone of Sustenance, which should remove any need for the simbarch to eat or drink so long as it remains in her posssession. This is why the 'cake' is so sturdy — it retains the essential physical qualities of the stone. For security reasons, we're keeping the stone disguised in this manner until we can present it to the Simbarch."

He mutters a brief incantation, and the cake vanishes, being replaced by a slab of heavily-inscribed grey rock.

"Ioun Stones are always quite heavy, of course, which is why they're usually imbued with levitation. We hadn't quite got around to that particular ritual yet when the orc made off with our little project. How anyone could carry a 75-pound cake that far and not consider it worth investigating more carefully I have no idea. At any rate, it would have been worth 45,000 gold pieces on the black market, easily. I can't thank you enough for selflessly returning this immensely valuable item to me at what must have been great risk to yourselves. Now, if you'll excuse — oh! Your payment, of course. I can't provide you with an Ioun Stone of your own, obviously, but I think I have something that may serve you just as well."

The baker rummages through his cabinets, eventually retrieving a wicker basket with a copper lid.

"There y'go. Free breakfast for life. Least I could do."

http://www.ddwiki.saxypunch.com/imag...provisions.png

And so it was that the Horde, for the price of a mere hour's work, found themselves with an unimpressive reward and a limited amount of satisfaction.

Minor quest reward + orcish drudge = 250 XP (50 each). That's the last time I insert an obvious comedy option in the list, I tell you what.


House of Pain
Albert's Miscellany
Mordenkainen's Magnificent Market
Pay 'n Pray
Notice Board

Collecting the reward, I headed straight back to the inn. I figured we should should go investigate the minotaur city or hunt the bandit next.

3 to minotaur city, 2 to bandit hunting

Motsognir is intrigued by this "sex tent". He jots down Geth Stormlights' information. He'd use it later if the group wasn't interested.

5 to sextant rescue