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

1 Die Roll "borrowing" without asking

Cal hands Gary a coin from his scant supply of cash, and watches intently as the little goblin drops it in the slot. The display issues a brief snippet of pleasant music as it dispenses Gary's prize from the card slot. Gary holds his hands out to catch the little card, and looks on in amazement as it rapidly folds itself into the shape of a tiny man waving an even tinier staff.

"Behold!" squeaks the origami man. "I am The Sage. I know all things! Ask me one question, and have it answered with total accuracy."

For a long moment, Gary seems lost in thought. Then his face lights up with joy as he realizes what question he wants to ask: "Why are they called bugbears, when they aren't bugs or bears?"

The origami sage rests his head upon his little fist for a few seconds, and then gestures for Gary to come closer. The goblin brings the little paper man up to his ear, and the sage tells him the answer in secrecy. The only indication either of them gives to the rest of the group is the growing look of nausea on Gary's face.

The sage leaps down to the floor, and bursts into flame. "A little knowledge is a dangerous thing, lad. Farewell!" Within a few seconds, the origami sage is just a tiny pile of ash.

"I kind of wish I hadn't asked, now. Ugh."

With all the logic and forethought that Melora gave your average owlbear, Cal sets to work literally setting a fire under a mummy's ass. Even as the first trickles of smoke start to rise off the smoldering alfalfa, a horrifying wail like a screeching harpy starts blaring down from the ceiling. All 7 cases retreat into the walls, and the holes in the floor seal over with steel panels rather than replacing the exhibits.

A tiny hatch opens in the ceiling, and water begins to drizzle down onto the group. The torches, evidently made of sterner stuff than most, continue merrily burning away.

Quite unable to continue his intended further exploration of the dioramas, Glenn turns his attention to Garrmondo, who's about to literally stick his neck out.

--------

Garrmondo leans through the portal, with Puyet keeping a firm grip lest there be danger on the other side. After a moment of disorientation, Garr finds himself looking around a dilapidated old temple. The room is practically cluttered with statuary, but most of them look to be falling apart. There's no torchlight in the room, but the temple is well illuminated by a large glowing orb sitting on a dais.

A young human girl wearing a comically oversized crown leans apathetically against the dais, idly plucking on a lute. On the other side of the room a fully-armored knight in a purple cloak paces back and forth, muttering to himself.

"I will... I will punch them all out. No, no. I will, I will push them all around. I will rattle all of their cages. Damn it all, what's keeping them?"

The knight glances expectantly at a heavy stone door on the opposite end of the room, but it remains closed. The temple side of the portal being in a relatively shadowy corner, Garr's disembodied head goes unnoticed.

FELIPE NO

Glenn glowers at the changeling; when Garrmondo had started recognising the people in the dioramas, Glenn had hoped that he might find something interesting within one of the later ones, possibly even including the group they were with now. His opportunity for learning what dangers the group's future held foiled, Glenn debates sneaking into the room on the other side of the portal, but decides to see if any of the others wish to try talking to those in the other room first.

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

I am deeply shamed after having incurred the Eladrin's disfavor. I am also rather upset at my inability to glean any insight from the somewhat inaccurate dioramas. I hurriedly extinguish the flame, hoping the security measure would soon deactivate.

Perhaps if I successfully retrieve the staff, he might forgive me.

Borrow length of rope.

Taking Gary aside, I asked in a hushed tone. So, why are they called Bugbears?

Jam it back in, in the dark.

1 Die Roll Fist to forehead.

Puyet cringed as he felt the water hit the back of his neck. It reminded him of the year he spent posted in the swamps hunting down hordes of trolls with his company commissioned by a neighboring fisherman's port. What a miserable time that was.

First a giant blob that provoked a horde of angry goblins, then a unpredictable swarm of gorrillas, and now this. He had definitely had enough. Puyet yanked back Garrmondo and approached the shapeshifter. Perhaps a good whack could rearrange his brains in a more favorable fashion.

There's nowhere I can't reach.

Glenn dawdles by the portal, hoping someone else will take the plunge. Meanwhile, Cal stealthily steals the rope from his Glenn's pack ('borrowing' from someone without their permission is theft) and interrogated Gary about his discoveries. Gary's in no mood to dish (he looks like he's barely keeping down his gorge), but the conversation comes to an abrupt end when the half-orc starts waving his fists around in Cal's general vicinity. Perhaps it was best he got on with his plan and gave the others some space.

--------

The pacing knight on the other end of the portal doesn't seem too intimidating, so Garrmondo strides back through and draws attention to himself. There's a faint click just behind him, and Garrmondo glances over his shoulder — the portal's gone.

The knight in the purple cloak whirls on Garrmondo, reaching for his sword until he beholds an armored figure even more intimidating than himself.

"Your plan sounds solid, but I've tried knocking them down before. They get knocked down, but they just get back up again. I'm never going to keep them down.

Goddamn pesky halflings."

Neither the knight nor the girl seem at all perturbed by Garrmondo's sudden entrance. The girl issues an ostentatiously loud yawn, and resumes the game of tic-tac-toe she's scratched into the dust on the floor.

--------

Back in the museum chamber, the drizzle from overhead peters out. There's a faint click in the vicinity of the portal, and the whirling lights of the magic doorway subtly shift from blue to pink.

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

Puyet grumbles under his breath and stomps toward the portal to follow Garrmondo.

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

Cal Amah of Rhee may be many things, but he's no thief when it comes to comrades. Seeing as how the rope is likely not recoverable, I secretly drop a gold coin in the rogue's pack. Curiously, he has not noticed the loss of 10 pounds of weight - my sleight of hand is getting better every day.

I expertly tie the now-purchased rope around the massive staff in a bowyer's knot, and rush back into the portal room unraveling the rope all the way. Ushering the cleric, rogue, and gallant Gygax in front of the pink portal, and wagon right next to me, I tell them as I hand each of them a rope to yank...

Okay then. On three, we charge into the portal together after the orc, all right? We don't want to split up the party. One... two...

I was speaking idiomatically.

Tired of trying to make sense of the changeling's determination to not carry things as useful as rope around with it, Glenn just lets it take the rope from his pack without caring. Glenn opts to wait for the portal's inevitable change in color and target location as soon as anyone tries to go through it - as far as he can tell the only trigger has been the fighter's disappearance. Perhaps it will change back and Glenn can join Garrmondo, or perhaps yet another locale will present itself. Either option seemed better to Glenn than having more of his stuff soaked and/or pilfered by the poorly prepared changeling.

What kind of toxic man-thing is happening now?

Gheth watched the scene play out as a probable king's bounty in artifacts slid in and out from the walls. Well, it was obvious someone had set himself up a lovely little trophy room, but Gheth was at a loss as to why.
He made a note of the portal's new color, and decidedly resisted having a rope put on him to follow into areas unknown. Instead, he used a simple knife to cut a foot long length off the rope he was given, and sliced that again into several smaller pieces.

"Maybe we should try this first, before we use our body parts?"

Experimentally, he throws a piece of the rope into the portal.

FELIPE NO

Cal and Puyet charge into the pink portal, dragging hapless Gary with them. The ropes the two are dragging behind them go taut, but there's no indication of the indestructible staff giving way. Oddly, the portal doesn't switch over immediately this time — perhaps the persistence of the ropes on both ends of the doorway prevent it from closing. Gheth tosses a scrap of rope through out of curiosity, but it doesn't seem to provoke anything other than a startled yelp from the changeling on the other side. He shares a raised eyebrow with the eladrin rogue, and they choose to cautiously wait for further developments.


--------


On the other side of the pink portal, Cal and Puyet find themselves in a vast cornfield. It's black as pitch out, and though the full moon shines down from directly overhead the cornstalks are all as tall as a man anyway. Visibility is, to say the least, minimal.

A chunk of hempen rope flies out of the portal behind them, smacking Cal in the back of the head. On the upside, the portal continues to merrily hum away behind them, bathing the roughly 10-foot radius of visibility in a soft pink light.


--------

The cloaked knight shrugs. "That there is only one way in or out is what makes this such a formidable redoubt, friend! The halfling fiends shall be forced through the chokepoint that the door represents, you see, and then — and then!

Still, it's not really safe out there. This whole region is just choked with vicious wolves, goblins, that sort of thing. I brought the princess here specifically in the hopes that forging through such threats would sap their resources. We shall soon see if it is so, eh?"

While the knight explains his plans, the massive stone door in the south of the room slowly swings open, admitting four halflings walking two-by-two. A chainmail-clad warrior with a shock of red hair waves a rapier in the knight's general direction before delivering an incoherent demand at the top of his lungs.

"SRDR VILN. GIVE PRCS ELSE DSTY."

The fellow next to him, clad in piecemeal armor made out of wooden planks, throws in his support.

"PRCS SARA HIDE. WILL DEAL WITH GRLD THEN TAKE HOME."

Behind them, two halflings in long robes flip idly through their spellbooks, both of which look to be about 3 pages long.

The purple-cloaked knight's shoulders sink as he whirls on the intruders. "Ah, yes. Halflings are significantly smaller than a 15-foot-wide stone door. This plan seems to have been fatally flawed."

The girl slaps her forehead in exasperation.

The redheaded halfling spots Garrmondo loitering in the rear of the chamber, and waves his rapier around excitedly.

"LEAV ELSE YOUR DEAD GRLD EVIL SRVT."

How ya doing, buddy?

1 Die Roll Perception

Can't see. But I know Puyet has low-light vision.

Ignite sunrod if he can't see either.

Most amazing jew boots

Muddle through cornstalks.
What can I haz see?

There's nowhere I can't reach.

Cal's practically blind as a bat, but between the moonlight and the glow of the portal Puyet's superior vision allows him to at least bumble through the field without getting too many cobs in the face. As long as Cal's holding on to his rope, the portal should be stable. Hopefully the changeling can be trusted.

At length, Puyet stumbles into a small clearing in the middle of the field. A wide circle of cornstalks have been flattened into a carpet underfoot, and in the center of the clearing an odd little creature sits on a tree stump.

Perhaps a little taller than an average halfling, the little grey thing is clad in a simple robe. Its bulbous head seems too large for its body, and iridescent black eyes take up almost half of its face. It seems to be reading some kind of metal book, but it sets the book aside as it sees Puyet approach.

"Greetings, native. May I ask you some... probing questions?"

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

The half-orc presses on, leaving poor defenseless me standing all alone in a pitch-black corn field in Melora knows where.

Perhaps I can find the human meatshield though. It seems quiet enough to risk shouting.

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===


Gary, can you go back through and tell the others about this place? Ask them if they can stick something more stable than a piece of rope through the portal. Say, a mundane item like a staff or rod?

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

Puyet realized he was intruding, and with the small man's provocative question, he felt he might want to intrude in return. Puyet gave him a slightly hostile tone to let him know he wasn't up any for shenanigans.

"You can ask them, but ask them from a safe distance."

I was speaking idiomatically.

Whilst Glenn waits for the changeling and the half-orc to return, he is tempted to go quickly go back up to the room with the avalanche staff and take a closer look at it, but decides against it. Instead he looks around near the portal in the hopes of finding what made the clicking sound when it changed color. Perhaps there's a control mechanism somewhere nearby.

What kind of toxic man-thing is happening now?

Swallowing his pride long enough to walk away from what was surely going to be an ugly fight, Garrmondo sidles past the angry halflings and out the door. It was probably for the best; the spellcasters were getting antsy.

"FIRE. FIRE. FIRE."

"SETL DOWN BVIS."

"SLEP?"

Outside the orb chamber, the rest of the structure is battered and crumbling. Sunlight streams in from massive holes in the walls and ceilings, and Garrmondo sees a dense forest beyond the confines of the temple compound.

A bunch of skeletons and goblins are just meandering aimlessly around the temple corridors, occasionally giving Garrmondo a skeptical once-over and then going on their way.

Anguished screams ring out behind Garrmondo in the orb room, but he can't really tell if it's the knight or the halflings doing the screaming. They were all fairly high-pitched.


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"Very well!" cries the little grey man. "Answer me this riddle of the universe, and be rewarded! For your wisdom will be repaid greatly, with this — "

The little man rummages around in the hip pockets of his robe before withdrawing some damp-looking green paper.

"With this 45 dollars! Tell me, native man: why do you guys have an appendix? We totally cut a bunch of you up and couldn't figure it out."

Cal shouts out into the night in hopes that Garrmondo's portal may have led to somewhere nearby, but there's no answer.


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Against his better judgment, Glenn cautiously prowls around the vicinity of the portal. Indeed, on the far side of the platform (between the portal and the wall) was a small red lever, quite difficult to spot from most angles. The lever was currently pulled all the way to the north-most setting, which a small etching next to the notch identified as "Shuffle." Other possible settings, from north to south, were "Lock", "Reverse", "Emergency Stop" and "Go To", which was accompanied by three tiny stone wheels set vertically into the platform. The edges of the wheels were covered in little etched diagrams: at the top of each wheel at the moment were an owl, a coinpurse, and a question mark.

FELIPE NO

Well, this was turning into a fine day. I've just been sitting here, minding my own business and playing some music for myself, and I'm interrupted by screams.


Everyone's a fucking critic. I still felt good, and people liked it before, so what the hell.

As I put away my recorder, I see the biggest fucking ponce I've ever seen walking toward me. I raise my voice to greet him: "What are you, some sort of pirate, or does your boyfriend just dress you funny?"

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

Puyet wasn't sure what the green paper the wee man was waving around could be, nor did he have any idea what an "appendix" was. He wasn't sure what to make of the offer or the question, so he hollered for Cal to come accompany him. He didn't trust him much, but at the moment he was more trustworthy that this small cretin.

"I'm not sure what you're talking about, but perhaps my friend could tell you."

Jam it back in, in the dark.

I am wracked with indecision, frozen in place thanks to my internal monologue

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There's nowhere I can't reach.

The little grey man stuffs the paper back in his pocket, disappointed. "Your friend is either mute or mentally ill, it seems. It's a shame. Now neither of you will ever see this 45 bucks again. Or... or! This season bus pass for the Toledo-Nashville route!"

A bright beam of light shoots down out of the sky, illuminating the little man and his stump, and he begins to slowly float upward. He taps the side of his head with a finger, and mutters:

"No luck here either. I recommend we move on to Florida; I have heard rumors that they keep their elders sequestered there. Surely those wise ancients will know the answer to our mystery."

The little grey man gradually recedes upward into the night, gradually becoming nothing more than a little speck in the beam of light. Then the light beam vanishes, and far up in the sky there is a quiet humming that gradually fades away into the distance.

The stump remains, a silent witness to the night's failures.


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Having greeted each other with insults (as manly men are wont to do), the swordmage and the fighter take in their collective situation. While cagey about how it is that he got here in the first place, the genasi's reason for staying is fairly obvious: he can't get out. The many holes and gaps in the wall are just too high for him to reach, and the massive padlock on the door bears dozens of little nicks from the Gra-Fa-Zut's attempts to hack his way through. Perhaps Garrmondo has resources to bring to the problem that the genasi does not.

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

I have finally reached a decision after seeing little gray squat things fly without wings.

Retreat to the portal, screaming.

Most amazing jew boots

Seeing as the Changeling's plan failed, Glenn retrieves his rope from the far room just in time for Cal to run through the portal, screaming like a lunatic. Based on what Glenn knew of the creature from his brief time in its company, it'd probably been startled by a mosquito or something similarly vicious.

Glenn goes back behind the portal and flips the switch to the "reverse" position. Hopefully the group can pick up Puyet and go find Garrmondo before the changeling does anything stupid and surprises more wildlife into attacking them.

I was speaking idiomatically.

"Hey, new guy. I'm guessing you're part of why I heard those screams a couple minutes ago, so that means I like you. Hoist me up and I'll try to take a look outside."

What kind of toxic man-thing is happening now?

Eladrin, you would not believe what I saw back there! Little gray gnomes, dressed in funny clothes, floating around without wings! Beams of light falling from the sky! Quiet humming sounds that mysteriously come and go!

That has to be a harbinger of the Tarrasque!

Wait, where's Garr? And what does this button do?

FELIPE NO