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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. Jam it back in, in the dark. |
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." There's nowhere I can't reach. |
"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?" How ya doing, buddy? |
Motsognir shook his head, sighing. goddam human fighters always messing up my plans he laments to himself.
I am a dolphin, do you want me on your body? |
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.
I was speaking idiomatically. |
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.
What kind of toxic man-thing is happening now? |
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. FELIPE NO |
Perception check What, you don't want my bikini-clad body? |
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 Jam it back in, in the dark. ![]() ![]() |
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. Most amazing jew boots |
"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 This thing is sticky, and I don't like it. I don't appreciate it. |
Put away Falchion take out pact hammer throw that hammer I am a dolphin, do you want me on your body? |
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 I was speaking idiomatically. |
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. What kind of toxic man-thing is happening now? |
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.
FELIPE NO ![]() ![]() |
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" What, you don't want my bikini-clad body? ![]() |
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. Jam it back in, in the dark. |
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. There's nowhere I can't reach. ![]() ![]() |
Stealth Check Acrobatics Check This thing is sticky, and I don't like it. I don't appreciate it. |
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. I am a dolphin, do you want me on your body? ![]() ![]() |
I was speaking idiomatically. |
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.
What kind of toxic man-thing is happening now? ![]() ![]() |
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 Most amazing jew boots |
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. ![]() What, you don't want my bikini-clad body? |
Perception Check Jam it back in, in the dark. ![]() |