[DnD] Once More Into The Depths (GFF D&D Adventure 8)

4 Dice Rolls garr critical bonus

Whilst the big man in a metal hat seemed to shrug more at Puyet's comment than take it to heart, the reaction he was hoping for was delivered. Unfortunately, that reaction came right into his ribcage. Puyet grimaces, but takes the opportunity to show his fervor.
Puyet had never been in a province that had been at war, but had patrolled enough border skirmishes to cleave a few heads.

With a quick nod to his ally, Puyet and Garr promptly double team the silly S&M amateur.

Vengeance is Mine
Both hit for 30 dmg +1 necrotic by Garr


This thing is sticky, and I don't like it. I don't appreciate it.

3 Dice Rolls And the quarry

Healing surge value of 21 means HP value of 84 to 87. 36 + 8 + 30 - 21 = 53. So 31-34 HP left.

What a stubborn armored man. I shoot at him when he wasn't paying attention to me, willing him to keel over due to a bad case of unlife.

Shadow Wasp strike on Overlord. 21 damage = Max 13 HP left!

I am a dolphin, do you want me on your body?

3 Dice Rolls OUCH!

Nothing like mob mentality. Puyet breathed heavy with delight. Obviously one of his orcish traits. That feeling, invigorating him anew, inspired a bit of jealousy in him. He pushed Garrmondo aside and swung a harsh blow towards the enemy. Afterwards, he circled him to assess the damage he had inflicted.

Inspiring word on self. Regain 17 hp to 29 + 5 additional HP
Wolf pack tactics, Garrmondo moves to X10
8 dmg to Overlord
Shift to U11

I was speaking idiomatically.

4 Dice Rolls *sizzle sizzle

Roaring in fury, Puyet swings his massive hammer. With a sickening crunch, the Overlord's chestplate is smashed in, leaving a dent the size of an ogre's fist in his armored torso. The armored man begins to shake violently, and impossibly bright light begins to issue from every tiny gap in his armor. The Overlord issues one final shout of impotent rage, and then — he's gone. The Overlord's heavy armor collapses in a heap on the floor, issuing streamers of foul-smelling steam. The jagged black helmet rolls aside; there's nobody in there. The few remaining goblins are clearly overjoyed to see their former tormentor so thoroughly annihilated.

Puyet strides past the ruined heap into the throne room (which has conveniently just gone up on the open market). The bards are obviously frustrated to see the situation change so rapidly, but they quickly switch gears to something which the half-orc might find more pleasing.

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Overlord killed. Surviving goblins rally; +1 to their attack rolls.

The pudding doesn't even seem to consider the goblins as a speed bump. Easily smashing one aside with its bulk, it lunges forward and begins to engulf Glenn into its mass. Glenn struggles against the sticky goop.

Slam: Z5 goblin killed.
Action Point!
Engulf: +9 vs Fortitude; 13 acid damage to Glenn (grabbed).

Gheth's Goblin Guerrillas 21, Glenn 19, Gheth 17, Puddingspawn 11, Cal 9, Garrmondo 7, Puyet 25, Pudding 24

What kind of toxic man-thing is happening now?

2 Dice Rolls X5 attack

With a series of authoritative barks, Gheth orders the Goblins to move in, hopefully leaving room for his friends to wreak havoc of their own.

W10 Goblin to X6 Z6, Attack (4 damage)
X5 Goblin Attack (miss)
X11 Goblin to Y9

FELIPE NO

3 Dice Rolls *sneak attack

The goop rushes toward Glenn, but as it starts to seize him, something happens which the goop wasn't expecting. Glenn instantly disappears, reappearing not far from where he had been before, yet far enough that he was no longer standing in the way of the flood of black ooze. This may or may not have confused the pudding, but Glenn doubted that the pudding would remain clueless as to his location for long. Sticking sharp objects into things was usually a surefire way to give away one's position.

Fey escape in response to being grabbed (might this prevent the damage as well?), Fey step to X6
Clever Strike, need 5 to hit again
7 + 2 + 15 = 24 damage to pudding.

What, you don't want my bikini-clad body?

3 Dice Rolls *healin

That settled it. Rudest pudding he ever saw.

Daunting Light on main pudding (16 damage)
Healing Word on Glenn (surge +11)
Hmm. Main Pudding. That's a good name for a band.

Jam it back in, in the dark.

5 Dice Rolls z8 slam cal

Every blow with a weapon seemed to split the pudding into more enemies to deal with, but Gheth's divine intercession seemed to wound the thing without any unpleasant side-effects. Unfortunately, his allies have few options to fall back other than swinging metal around.

Pudding bloodied by Gheth
Whoever attacks the main pudding next gets Combat Advantage, as Skex didn't specify anyone.

Glenn and the goblin, however, had both divided the pudding. The smaller oozes rush forward. The goblin who had wounded the larger pudding was swiftly crushed, but another micropudding's attempt to enact revenge on Glenn fails as he slashes it apart mid-lunge. A third tiny ooze flings itself down the hall, assaulting Cal to no productive end.

Z6 goblin, Y7 pudding killed
Z8 pudding granting advantage due to running

Cal 9, Garrmondo 7, Puyet 25, Pudding 24, Gheth's Goblin Guerrillas 21, Glenn 19, Gheth 17, Puddingspawn 11

There's nowhere I can't reach.

3 Dice Rolls Zing! 2

I had been very quiet, not attacking the pudding at all, when its infernal spawn assaulted me. How annoying. Especially for a supposedly sightless creature.

It must be sensing me somehow. I smell at my clothing, and decide that I need to take a bath at the next opportunity.

I take aim at the little black pudding that attacked me. It clearly didn't like the arrow pointed at it, and slammed itself against me. The impact sent the arrow flying into the more distant puddingspawn instead.

My second arrow was used to poke holes at the very rude spawn next to me. I wonder if these things are edible once cooked. In any case, I now want to kill the mother pudding.

Twin Strike. +11 to hit, needs 11+ vs. AC 22 of puddingspawn.
Opportunity Attack vs. Cal: 11.
First Twin Strike vs. Y6 pudding: 19 HIT.
Second Twin Strike vs. adjacent pudding: 10 + 2 (combat advantage) + 1 (prime shot) = 13 HIT.
All puddingspawns killed.
Designate pudding as quarry.

Looking around, I note that only two goblins remain alive. They were not very good meatshields, I surmise. I whisper to the dragonborn that perhaps it might be prudent to keep one of them alive by ordering him out of harm's way. He might be able to provide us information about the lay of the land after the pudding dies.

This thing is sticky, and I don't like it. I don't appreciate it.

1 Die Roll Goblin Ball

Puyet scratches himself.

Half-orc only slightly smarter than full orc. But he know when genitals itch. He announce this to rest of crew. "ME KNOW WHEN GENITALS ITCH".

They acknowledge this begrudgingly. Between this bastion of intelligence and a man knowledgeable in Jarate, shit is likely to get real weird real quick.

Puyet KNOW blob is bad though. Very bad. Alas, there not much half-orc do from half-orc standing spot!

Move to Y9

Blob still so far away. Puyet frown for orc moment until he realize orc part of him have big muscles.

He reaches down and grabs tiny Goblin friend by hard tiny head.

Grab Goblin Y10

Puyet once see man toss ball at second man. Fond memories of ball bases sports come flooding back at him like ants eating corpse; as fast as tiny half-orc brain can handle.

With all mastery technique he muster, he toss goblinoid at blob!

Toss friend at pudding
Improvised heavy (???) thrown. +8 vs AC. Need 12. 18.

The little one soars majestically through the air and impacts the pudding full on in the....chest? It instantly disappears inside while screaming a most blood curdling noise. Puyet not sure if impact do any damage.

I am a dolphin, do you want me on your body?

9 Dice Rolls garr AoO damage

The notion of delicious pudding immediately perks up the elf's ears.

"I want some pudding. But how good can pudding be if it's been sitting in a box for at least..."

The elf counts on his fingers. He runs out of fingers to count on.

"10...More than 10 years."

"Could it be significantly worse than frozen dog corpse?"

"Point conceded."

Bluff successful on both counts.

Puyet flings the hapless little goblin into the black goo, watching as it vanishes almost instantaneously. A roughly goblin-sized blob of slime splatters out the other end, but it's probably not related.

8 damage to Pudding, friendly goblin who trusted you, you monster killed.

The weakened pudding fails to recover from the goblin's (ahem) airborne insertion, and its attempt to strike at Garrmondo is pathetic to say the least. The pudding begins to slowly retreat back toward the box, perhaps deciding it best to run and fight another day. The last surviving goblin rebel stands by fearlessly, ready to fight to the end.

Another 20 damage to the Pudding from AoOs as it flees. On the other hand, two more puddingspawn.

Gary the Gallant Goblin 21, Glenn 19, Gheth 17, Ice Goblin 17, Puddingspawn 11, Cal 9, Garrmondo 7, Elf Berserker 5, Puyet 25, Pudding 24

I was speaking idiomatically.

1 Die Roll hit

Glenn could feel the blood flowing through his veins. He was in his element. Swapping out his sword for his crossbow once again, Glenn decides to try out the aspects of it that he didn't think the villagers would have appreciated much if he'd tried it out on their cattle. He'd just acquired it from the shopkeep, who had promised him that the simple looking weapon would deal much more of a punch than they expected.

Glenn aims the bolt at the nearest black blob and fires.

Fast Hands switch back to crossbow
deft strike vs. Y5 puddingspawn. 10 to hit.

hit! damage doesn't matter since they're minions, 1hp last i checked
activate lightning hand crossbow, zap all four puddingspawn to their untimely deaths

The instant the bolt hits home, lightning jumps from the first puddingspawn to its counterparts next to it, and actually arcs to the last puddingspawn down the hallway. All four stop moving and melt away immediately, giving the rest of the group an open invitation to finish off the wounded main blob.

Glenn lets the slightest hint of a grin creep across his face. Yes, this new toy was going to be fun.

What kind of toxic man-thing is happening now?

1 Die Roll lance

It would be too much for any one goblin. Warlords, puddings, seeing his best friend get hurled like a warty javelin...And frankly he wasn't sure he wouldn't get electrocuted if he stuck around too long.

Triple G flees back to S6

Gheth, meanwhile, notes the effectiveness of holy attacks and decides to send another care package. Of doom. Or hope. It was hard to tell which.

Move to Z7
Lance of Faith on main pudding with bonus to Garrmondo (miss)

FELIPE NO

1 Die Roll freezing hex v. puddin'

Smirking, Glenn wipes out all the smaller puddings with one swift strike. Not much use duplicating yourself if the copies die in a strong breeze. Sadly the remains of the engulfed goblin are nowhere to be seen as the little puddings melt away. He must have been dissolved entirely.

The ice goblin charges down from the battered chamber where he makes his lair, the rumors of delicious pudding having become impossible to ignore. Skidding to a halt just behind Glenn, he propels a blast of icy wind from his palms — but the pudding seems to take no notice of his wintry freshness.

"It's getting away! Do something, don't just stand there cooling your heels!"

The blue goblin looks at G-Unit expectantly, but they show no appreciation for his cold-based puns.

"Philistines."

Cal 9, Garrmondo 7, Elf Berserker 5, Puyet 25, Pudding 24, Gary the Gallant Goblin 21, Glenn 19, Gheth 17, Ice Goblin 17, Puddingspawn 11

What, you don't want my bikini-clad body?

3 Dice Rolls Quarry

I coolly cock an arrow from my quiver, and icily taunt the pudding.

"Hey pudding! FREEZE!!!"

Careful attack on Black Pudding. 7 + 13 vs AC20 = barely hit.
Pudding takes 5+7+3 = 15 HP damage.

Jam it back in, in the dark.

With an appropriate quip at hand, Garrmondo casually slices what's left of the pudding to ribbons. The ice goblin (somewhat miffed to see his enthusiasm for puns picked up by all and sundry) quickly makes for the immobile heap of pudding. Sadly even a dead black pudding is still violently acidic, and while the goblin eats his fill the pudding is eating him just as quickly — from the inside out. He keels over, coughing up a spray of blue blood.

'It was... ice to meet you, anyway... keep it frosty."

Victory! 1691 XP (338 each)

There's nowhere I can't reach.

Our ice goblin ally swoons after eating a black pudding. Not wanting to see unnecessary NPC death if I can help it, I pour the contents of my potion down his throat. Live, dammit, live!

Spend 1 healing surge

___


Still, anything that could make a magical creature faint after a swig might prove useful in the future. After gently laying the ice goblin on the ground, I go over to the immobile sludge and carefully scoop up a half-dozen flaskfuls of pudding. After stoppering all six flasks, I store them on my wagon. Experimentally, I drip a bit of gibbering mouther jelly on the dead pudding, and see what happens.

Stopping to retrieve my thieves' tools from the rogue, I walk over to the empty pieces of armor which comprise the Overlord's corpse, and examine them for anything salvageable.

This thing is sticky, and I don't like it. I don't appreciate it.

Glenn leaned back against the wall, satisfied with how the fight had gone. He hadn't had a decent workout in a long time, and he could feel it. Glenn knew full well that it was usually possible to avoid a fight, and that this was almost always a better way of doing things, but sometimes he just felt like he had to hit something. This decision had usually earned him either an eye roll and a smirk, or a smack upside the head and a glare, depending on how his old partner had been feeling at the time.

1 healing surge to full hp

Now really wasn't the time for reflection on the past, however - the changeling had come over immediately following the battle and started going through his pockets, looking for something. Glenn figured it out and handed the changeling his tools back. He thought to himself that he should get himself a set of those the next time he saw civilization - presuming he ever did again.

Glenn decided to check the treasure chest that the black ooze had... oozed out of. If anything was in there, it would certainly be worth the effort of the battle. Perhaps the creature was a security measure. Perhaps the strongbox was simply the most convenient thing around at the time of the pudding's capture. No way to tell until one checked.

I am a dolphin, do you want me on your body?

Knowing the usefulness of a good guide dog, Puyet breaks off a piece of rope from his pack long enough to subdue the remaining goblin minion like a mongrel.

"Good boy! Sit! Good! Now heel!"

Puyet gives him a Scooby Snack from his ration pack. He is not sure what a Scooby Snack is, but the merchant he bought his rations from a week ago said they were certain to energize even the most timid of cowards.

"Now show me the way out and you get another one."

Spend healing surge.
See where this dumbass goblin leads me.

I was speaking idiomatically.

Cal decides to save the life of the strange blue goblin, despite his general uselessness and penchant for bad puns. Perhaps the grim consequences of the events at the amphitheater had softened the changeling's heart somewhat. A significant amount of the magic tonic seemed to pour uselessly out of the gaping hole in the goblin's abdomen, but the fighter was standing by with another dose. It seemed that Cal wouldn't be harvesting any rare goblin parts today.

Cal carefully gathers up several flasks full of the pudding — as expected, the glass flasks held the toxic mess without any trouble. Judging by the goop still remaining on the floor, however, the pudding wouldn't retain its acidic properties long after death; the acrid vapors produced by the pudding eating away at the floor were already fading away to barely-detectable wisps. Still, it might have some use even if it couldn't serve as a universal solvent. Even dead the pudding was bound to be poisonous as all hell.

Cal cautiously drips a few drops of the rapidly-liquefying remains of the gibbering mouthers onto the pudding heap. The effect is as immediate as it is unpleasant: a tiny fanged mouth sprouts on the surface of the ooze and begins muttering vile curses. Cal listens carefully, but the gibbering pudding doesn't seem to say anything useful: just an endless stream of vile insinuations regarding his parentage, the circumstances of his birth, and his choice of bedfellows. A significant amount of these insinuations are fairly accurate, but Cal maintains his poker face. The screeching peters out after a minute or two,, and the mouth fades back into the shapeless blob as if it was never there.

The Overlord's former armor looks to be of a very high quality, but the heavy iron plate is far too bulky for any of the company to wear comfortably. Cal could probably stow it in his wagon, but there wouldn't be much room left to add anything more afterward.



Glenn investigates the massive chest that had held the pudding, thinking it likely that the ooze had been placed there as a form of active defense. The entire interior surface of the box is coated with smooth glass, but lying at the bottom is a small pane of polished glass, perhaps 2 feet square. Glancing on it, Glenn experiences a moment of strange vertigo; he's looking down into the chest, but the glass pane seems to be a window into an entirely horizontal scene. Glenn stares through the window into a raucous tavern, and though no sound comes through he still hears the music in his memory: he's seen this before. The tavern, the mug in front of him, and her — her! — passing coins to the barmaid for another round...

Glenn reaches out toward the window instinctively, and raps his knuckles on the glass. The tavern scene vanishes in a twinkling, leaving behind nothing but the bare glass. Glenn takes a step back. It was just an illusion, surely... like the faint tang of ale he could feel on his tongue. Just the same, Glenn averts his gaze from the chest until he decided what to do about the window it housed.



Puyet bribes the last of the goblins Gheth had rallied to his cause with an iron ration. The dry wafers and salted beef were hardly gourmet fare, but the little goblin tears into them with enthusiasm. Sadly Puyet's attempt at bartering with the fellow doesn't get him anywhere.

"With all due respect, Mister... if I knew how to get out of here, why would I have stayed? The constant thread of strangulation wasn't exactly wine and roses for me, you know. Plenty of chances for us to run, I grant you, but nowhere to run to really. Don't get me wrong, I appreciate your generosity and if I can do anything else to help I — please don't kill me please don't kill me please don't kill me."

Gary collapses into a simpering heap of tears and cowardice, huddling into the corner and trying to make himself look as small as possible.

Garrmondo pours another potion down the ice goblin's throat, and the little blue guy seems to stabilize. In no condition to go anywhere or stand for interrogation, certainly, but he'd live. His elf companion peers around the corner curiously, and after seeing his partner neither dead nor embroiled in any immediate danger he just returns to his meal.

The halfling bards are no more helpful than Gary had been in ascertaining an escape route. The woman with the drums adopts a grim expression and passes on the bad news.

"Surface? By Yondalla's bountiful horn, are we underground? Friend, I know no more than you do, or likely even less. Those bastards in Lamid got the drop on us while we were celebrating our anniversary, and while we struggled there were too many for us. Harald and I were both clubbed over the head, and when we came to — why, we were as you see us now. The goblins had no special loyalty to him, and we were able to question them as he slumbered on his throne, but they knew nothing more than we did. Few of them seemed to survive under his employment for more than a day or two, but every day new goblins seemed to arrive to replace the dead — and they didn't know where they'd come from either. This has been going on for... well, weeks, probably. Can't say I've kept proper track of the time."

The halflings painfully rise to their feet, scattering a small mountain of musical instruments across the room.

"He just had all these things already, I guess," Harald volunteers. "I woke up with a xylophone digging into my ribs, and he just stares at me for a minute solid and says 'Play'. We're not even musicians by trade, you know, but we learn quick. Monsters in iron suits don't have a lot of use for fresh scones, so at least we got to keep what little food we had in our purses. I can't imagine we'd have lived much longer than the goblins without it."

He heaves a sigh, realizing that his rescuers haven't really brought him any closer to resuming his normal life.

"Not what you wanted to hear, I'm sure. Still, we've got some scones left if you like. They're only a little bit stale."

Other than the heap of musical doodads, the only other obvious thing of value in the throne room was — well, the throne. But Garrmondo didn't see any way to fit it through the doorway assuming he could drag it out of its place. How'd it even get there in the first place?

What kind of toxic man-thing is happening now?

Puyet pats his new pet goblin on the head a few times to console him, then drags him along as he heads back towards the throne room. After a brief discussion with the human, concluded everybody was as clueless as the next.

He decided, before heading further into the dungeon, to investigate the throne itself. There was something nagging about it, and Garrmondo himself seemed to be fascinated with it's magnificence.

FELIPE NO

Glenn stopped and sat in the corner of the throne room to think. That scene... it had been so vivid. The last time he had seen Rose just over a year ago, in that tavern. Their usual place after they had finished a job. It had been raining that night, so they had been forced to take their rest inside the tavern, instead of their usual place on the roof.

Glenn fingered the bright sapphire he wore on a bracelet on his arm. It had been a parting gift, of sorts. It was half of a jewel that he and Rose had stolen. Their last one. It had appeared on his window sill one morning, sitting on top of a tiny scrap of parchment, bearing only one word. goodbye.

Glenn and Rose had never been romantically inclined, but they had become close friends over the few years they had know each other. They worked together to steal from the nobility of Valentia, each for their own reasons. Rose to support her family, Glenn for the excitement, and both to keep the nobility informed that they weren’t, in fact, invincible. Glenn may have been the son of a rich and prosperous merchant, but that didn’t mean he had ever liked it.

Glenn stood up with new resolve. The trick mirror had been eerie, but it had also reminded him of why he had disowned his family in the first place. Rose’s home may have been burned, but she had escaped. The sapphire was proof of that. Glenn had made his decision to try to find her. But first he had to get out of this hole.

What, you don't want my bikini-clad body?

The two potions appear to have an effect on the ice goblin's well-being. I check to see if he's all right, and ask him for his name. Surely, any NPCs who receive names survive longer than their unnamed counterparts! I read it somewhere, anyway.

------------------

The vile pudding that almost killed the ice goblin must be punished. I pour the contents of the flask that contained my urine on the dead acidic beast as payback.

------------------

The armor left by the Overlord is much too heavy for me to wear, or drag around for that matter. But my fighter friend - surely he has enough strength to wear Plate armor! Plus, it comes with a defensive upgrade.

Eyeing Mr. and Mrs. Harald Halfling, I ask them if they know, or have any "Transfer Enchantment" ritual scrolls lying around. If Garrmondo can't wear plate, then we can at least transfer it over to his current scale armor.

------------------

There is a pile of musical instruments unearthed by the uncouth half-orc, whose utter disregard for the welfare of NPCs I find reprehensible. I wonder for a moment if the cleric shares my feelings, but I digress. As an aspiring musician, i wonder if there are any violins in the pile. Or any wondrous intruments, for that matter.

Jam it back in, in the dark.

The ice goblin remains unconscious despite the healing tonics, and no amount of poking seems to rouse him. Undeterred, Cal carefully checks the goblin's pockets for any sign of his identity and finds a single wadded-up sheet of parchment. The document is a little stained and the ink is smeared, but it's still mostly legible.



Reading over the tattered note, Cal casually pours his flask o' urine over the pudding's remains. No interesting chemical results occur, but it's still aesthetically pleasing.

Puyet pokes curiously at the throne, clumsily prodding at it with his thick fingers. Finding nothing, he slams his fist down on the throne's armrest. With a soft hum, the seat of the throne recedes into the back of the chair and reveals a dark vertical tunnel leading down to parts unknown. The tunnel is perhaps a foot and a half wide, far too narrow for anyone in G-Unit to descend even if they wanted to.

Harald and his wife are startled by the discovery, and then slowly begin to back away. Puyet had already made it clear that we was willing to throw people into danger for the sake of his own curiosity. Passing Garrmondo a small waxed-paper packet, Harald looks at the changeling with a dumbfounded expression.

"If Sheila or I had a bunch of magic scrolls, why would we be sitting around down here in the first place? Think, man."

A lute and a violin are indeed found within the heap of instruments, and Garrmondo begins to idly play a dissonant, nerve-jangling tune. Cal picks through the rest of the pile, finding examples of most instruments he'd heard of and a few he hadn't — but nothing magical-seeming.

"We appreciate your help, but we can't very well just sit here and wait to be rescued any longer," Sheila replies. "As long as we don't open every box we see or pick fights we don't need to, I think we'll get along all right by ourselves from here out. We'll just keep an eye on your blue friend here until he wakes up, and then we'll be on our way. Tell you what — why don't I keep one of these horns, and one of you lot keep one. Then we can split up and look for a way out much faster, and send out the alert when we do find something."

There's nowhere I can't reach.

Ooh, ooh! A violin! I hope it's a valuable Stradivarius! I take this valuable instrument and stow it in my pack.

Glenn looked a bit rattled after looking in the locked chest. Intrigued, I poke inside and look at the window. It's a beautiful window, it will make a nice decoration to my little wagon if the rogue doesn't want it.

The half-orc apparently uncovered a water closet built into the throne. Just in time too - my intestines have started to rumble. I sit on the throne, and void the contents of my bowels into the marvelous indoor toilet.

This thing is sticky, and I don't like it. I don't appreciate it.