Delicious and Moist (GFF D&D Adventure 5)
 

With Bob entirely unable to make up his mind and both Delic and Gordok content to go along for the ride, the Horde's next course of action is clear. Pastry retrieval hardly sounds like the most challenging or profitable work, but it can't possibly take more than an afternoon.

It's a short walk down to the local bakery, and from there it's clear that the situation is just as simple as it seemed. Orc, stolen cakes, cake's owner too cowardly to pursue. Bread and butter for the urban adventurer, this sort of thing.

Gordok excitedly follows the trail of the purloined pastries — a trail composed entirely of cake crumbs. Either these particular cakes were very dry, or the orc in question couldn't wait to get home before tucking in.

After a good 15 minutes of following the line of sugary evidence, the Horde finds the trail leads directly into an open storm drain — just as the dark clouds overhead begin to pour down a torrential rain.

Without further ado, the Horde climbs down a ladder into a sewer reservoir which looks quite tidy, really, by sewer standards. The rainwater pours in behind them, swirling down the pipe into a large drain that will take it out to sea.

Staring daggers at them from across the chamber, a single angry orc stands with his arms crossed, his eyes occasionally darting to his left to glance at a small table with an uneaten cake upon it.

A wax-paper package covered with precisely the sort of crumbs that had led the Horde here swirls slowly round the drain and vanishes.

The orc says nothing.

Motsognir takes out the rope he'd been carrying about for just such an occasion.

"Alright. My lady, I do not mean to put you in danger's way, but the easiest way to retrieve that cake is for me to tie one end of this rope to you, and the other end of this rope to the ladder rungs over there. I believe I even have enough rope to secure you several times over, if you're worried about it not being strong enough, not that you have to worry about things like that with your frame, honeycakes. Then, you can get close enough to the cake to just magic it back over to us, yes?"

Looking over at the orc, he shouts. "Don't worry, we're not going to kill you. Just having the cake back. Won't be a minute."

Surmising that the orc could not both carry two cakes and eat one of them with the mere two arms he's got, Big G-Unit realizes that they've been led here on purpose. BY SOMEONE DASTARDLY.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck. It's a trap." Garrmondo said under his breath, as much to the walls as the rest of his party. "They knew our love of that which is sweet and delicious would lead us into this situation so easily."

Moving forward a few steps, he called out "Gig's up, bro. We ain't walking into this. Best you bring that delicious thing over here, give it to us, and we'll all be on our merry way. Lest you want yourself some new assholes ripped in more places than you can count."

Move to G15
Intimidate Check

One final thought cross Garr's mind though, as he awaited the orc's response. "Why does this place smell less like shit than this halfling does?"

Motsognir shook his head, sighing. goddam human fighters always messing up my plans he laments to himself.

Garr wonders why the short hairy man is talking out of turn when it would take little to no effort to pick him up and shove him head first into the drain.

Gordok knows a good thing when he sees it. Nice running rain water. Plenty of room to splash around in. It's time for this halfling to take a bath. With an excited grin plastered across his face Gordy rolls about splashing his filth away down the drain.

The Horde stares at the orc, and the orc stares back. Soggy secures the elf tightly to the rusty ladder on the wall, but Bob makes no immediate move to risk his own life for cake's sake.

Sensing deception, Garrmondo viciously threatens the orc. The orc looks at Garrmondo for a long moment, seemingly sizing him up. Then he shakes his head.

Oblivious to the tense scene going on around him, Gordok takes the opportunity to finally clean off the crust of days-old bear vomit. The noxious foulness washes away down the drain, leaving the halfling at least as clean as his companions (which isn't saying much).

In an entirely unrelated event, the entire population of the coastal fishing village of Flangaess is wiped out 3 days later by what is thought to be an immensely tainted water supply.

The orc abides.

Realizing he can't exactly use his new toy for fear of exploding all over the baked goods, Garr glances about for the obvious (and not so obvious) traps.

Perception check

As we entered the drain, I took a moment to allow my keen eyes to adjust to the light and to look around a bit. I was so lost in my thoughts, I barely noticed the dwarf tying a rope around my waist. Obviously he was worried about me getting washed away, which was sweet of him. I bent down and kissed him lightly on the cheek by way of thanks.

The pirate was trying to reason with the orc, a futile course of action if ever I saw one.

I surveyed the immediate area for any obvious traps or signs of other orcs lying in wait to ambush us. The thought did cross my mind to use my ghost hand spell to retrieve the cake but I couldn't shake the nagging feeling that there had to be more to this situation than was immediately apparent.

Whatever was going on, there seemed no reason for the orc to be alive for us to resolve it so I calmly drew my bow and notched an arrow, aiming at the orc. Sure I could have balsted him with magic but I figured an elf pointing a loaded bow at you was more of an obvious visual indication of what was about to go down than a wizard vaguely waving a staff around and I really couldn't be bothered to talk the orc round.

I indicated with a slight twitch of my aiming hand that the orc should move away from the cake.

Have a look about for traps and ambushes. Draw bow and aim at the orc ready to shoot if he acts at all aggressive

Both Bob and Garrmondo give the area a thorough going-over for any hidden perils, but nothing presents itself other than the obvious hazards of the open drain and the orc himself.

Bob draws a bead on the orc, attempting to frighten it away from the cake. The orc stays exactly where he is, slowly drawing a hand crossbow from his belt. He aims the crossbow at the cake. One wrong move, and he might shoot the cake to smithereens.

Slowly walking forward, gesturing with his arms in a relaxing manner, Garr spoke up.

"Whoa now, whoa. Let's not do anything hasty now. We don't want to do anything we'll regret now, do we?"

Move to G12
Diplomacy Check


fffffffffffffff

Seeing that these idiots were clearly not going to attempt his level-headed plan, Motsognir takes out his newly acquired throwing hammer and throws it at the orc. Anything was better than this pussyfooting, he figured.

Put away Falchion
take out pact hammer
throw that hammer

Feeling refreshed and a bit cleaner Gordok finally pays attention to the situation at hand. An orc was threatening a cake to save himself from the elf. Rather than trying to calm things down like the spunky human the dwarf tosses a hammer to break the stalemate. Gordy couldn't quite tell if it struck but he was pretty sure it wasn't a sure strike that would bring this to an end.

Gruffing up his voice for talking in giant the halfling yells out to the orc. "Oy! If you don't want your corpse molested by the hammer thrower I'd give up the cake. I'm serious! He's a sicko this one. Best course for you is probably to hop on down that drain and hope for the best. I mean I'm new to this group and all but I wager they don't take prisoners. Being honest here. I am."

Diplomacy Check

Tired of dicking around, Soggy cuts to the chase and flings his fancy new magic hammer at the orc's brainbox. While the orc does, indeed, reflexively fire his crossbow into the innocent cake, this does not leave him with enough time to escape the arc of the hammer's flight.

The hammer smashes into the orc's skull with a viscerally meaty crunch before promptly returning to Soggy's hand (spangled with bone fragments and specks of brain). The orc groans in agony before collapsing into the water, quite dead. Gordok has a fabulous time taunting the poor bastard.

Despite the protruding crossbow bolt, the cake still looks to be largely intact. It must be quite dense.

The orc now dead, I put my bow away and conjured up a ghost hand to grab the cake, bracing myself for whatever was about to happen to turn this ten minute fetch quest into a full-blown adventure.

Delic rubs his eyes and blinks, "Yes well, you all handled that well"

Eyeing his sword scabbard, which still has the length of rope attached to it from the previous adventure, Delic removes it and weighs it in his hand, "Hmmm"

Garrmondo's request to have someone prevent him from drowning is ignored, and he is left standing there holding his own rope.

Bob conjures up a mage hand and sends it floating across the drain to grab the cake. The disembodied hand struggles to lift the delicious-looking dessert, but to no avail. As a mage hand can lift up to 20 pounds, either the cake must be extremely heavy or else both it and the table are bolted to the floor.

It seemed as though retrieving this cake would not be nearly as simple a task as I had first imagined. Someone would have to go over there and get it.

The orc had got across there though and seemingly alone so how hard could it possibly be?

I untied the rope from around my waist and attached it to the badger-child. I figured he was light enough that the rest of us could easily toss him across the drain, from where he could better assess the situation.

I suggested as much to the rest of the Horde and began limbering up.

The elf ties the rope to Gordy and pantomimes that he should go get the cake. Ooh cake! This should be nice. Gordok stealthily makes his way across the room while performing jumping jacks. He knew what cake did to his thighs.

Stealth Check
Acrobatics Check

The child seemed to prefer the idea of jumping across himself to being thrown.

I tried to hide my disappointment as I watched him go. Maybe if he fell in we could try throwing him after we pulled him out.

Gordok takes a running leap over the whirlpool in the drain. In a prodigious display of unexpected athletic prowess, he handily leaps the distance with room to spare. Now there is only the question of retrieving the inexplicably heavy cake from its place upon the table.

The child had made the jump easily but with no room for a run up and carrying a heavy cake, it looked doubtful that he would make it back again. I popped back out of the drain to see if I couldn't find a log or long plank or something similar we could use as a makeshift bridge, chuckling to myself for not thinking of this earlier before we all started mucking about jumping across.

"Well, uh, I guess my warning came a bit too late, huh, yeah?"

Gordok eyes the orc and thinks it best to give him a proper burial. But not after pilfering some goods first.

Perception Check

"Hmmm... you won't be needing these uh things. Anyway say hello to Mr. Tickles for me. If only I had fed him exactly three milligrams of Tickle Snax. I was forewarned that three hams would certainly kill him, but did I listen? Noooooo and with my three ham omelet Mr. Tickles was done in by overwhelming deliciosity!"

Gordy weeps openly and after setting aside the cadaver's possessions he slowly rolls the orc down into the drain. He thinks of his old fishy friend one more time.

"I'll miss you."

Turning from the trauma-inducing scene Gordok moves towards the cake. Besides the obvious arrow he isn't too sure of this cake. This suspicious cake! What secrets could it be hiding!

Perception Check

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

Gordok wasn't completely sure what he wanted to do. The combat simulation did sound intriguing though.

1 to sextant rescue, 1 to bandit hunting, 4 to combat simulation