Nudge pls. Particularly as our usual pattern has been to find all the content.
And blue quest now the leggos are down.
And spider grips. That ability's close to being another +1 speed if we do use it, though we weren't using the ability it would replace anyway, and in numbers it's a flat upgrade.
[LP] DestinyQuest 2: The Heart of Fire
Moderator: Moderators
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Omegonthesane
- Prince
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- Joined: Sat Sep 26, 2009 3:55 pm
Last edited by Omegonthesane on Sat Feb 09, 2019 5:34 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Kaelik wrote:Because powerful men get away with terrible shit, and even the public domain ones get ignored, and then, when the floodgates open, it turns out there was a goddam flood behind it.
Zak S, Zak Smith, Dndwithpornstars, Zak Sabbath, Justin Bieber, shitmuffin
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Darth Rabbitt
- Overlord
- Posts: 8870
- Joined: Thu Feb 05, 2009 8:31 pm
- Location: In "In The Trenches," mostly.
- Contact:
I definitely think the snake has more punch and more style, but I would be fine saying that we stashed the pistol in the locker on the way back from our shopping trip (just pick an item from there to toss). Votes are definitely in favor of nudges towards finishing the spear side quest, although they won't come up in the blue quest.
Night falls and with it comes the rain, slapping against the leaves and filling the forest with streaming beads of water. Within minutes the path you were following has become a river, the mud swelling and pulling at your feet. You struggle up a bank, aiming to reach higher ground, the rainwater thumping against your face and into your eyes. Everything about this place—this environment—is hostile and unforgiving. You slide back into the muddy river, too exhausted to continue.
Then your body tenses as you catch a sound—something crawling through the undergrowth.
There is a raised call and the boom of a gunshot. You ready your weapons, scanning the dark forest. You see it all clearly, despite the lack of moonlight; another of your demonic powers.
You turn again, your gaze shifting past splayed leaves and knotted tree roots to finally halt on a pair of brilliant amber eyes. It is a creature that you have heard stories about—children's tales of the tiger people that live in far-flung lands. You always thought they were the result of a fervent imagination, a bard's fanciful yarn. But one is staring back at you right now—a female, with orange and black markings. A baby is cradled in her arms.
She looks towards the forest, then quickly back at you—as if deciding her next course of action. Her posture and behavior are of someone running scared. The tigris flinches and prepares to run again. Then you hear the wet splat of feet and two men emerge, slipping and sliding out of the undergrowth. One is dark-skinned and bare-chested, his thick arms banded with tattoos. A cruel-looking hunting knife flashes in one hand, a sputtering torch in the other. His companion is a thin weasel of a man, with shifty eyes and a pockmarked face. He levels his pistol at the tigris then sees you and his eyes narrow. Your presence draws both men up short.
'Outta our way!' snarls the weasel.
You hear a splash behind you. The tigris has taken flight again, her child held tight to her chest. The dark-skinned man gives a rumbling growl as he advances towards you. The weasel swings his arm around, aiming his pistol for your chest.
Will you:
Attack the men?
Ask why they are hunting tigris?
Offer to help them?
Quest: Revenge of the tigris
Night falls and with it comes the rain, slapping against the leaves and filling the forest with streaming beads of water. Within minutes the path you were following has become a river, the mud swelling and pulling at your feet. You struggle up a bank, aiming to reach higher ground, the rainwater thumping against your face and into your eyes. Everything about this place—this environment—is hostile and unforgiving. You slide back into the muddy river, too exhausted to continue.
Then your body tenses as you catch a sound—something crawling through the undergrowth.
There is a raised call and the boom of a gunshot. You ready your weapons, scanning the dark forest. You see it all clearly, despite the lack of moonlight; another of your demonic powers.
You turn again, your gaze shifting past splayed leaves and knotted tree roots to finally halt on a pair of brilliant amber eyes. It is a creature that you have heard stories about—children's tales of the tiger people that live in far-flung lands. You always thought they were the result of a fervent imagination, a bard's fanciful yarn. But one is staring back at you right now—a female, with orange and black markings. A baby is cradled in her arms.
She looks towards the forest, then quickly back at you—as if deciding her next course of action. Her posture and behavior are of someone running scared. The tigris flinches and prepares to run again. Then you hear the wet splat of feet and two men emerge, slipping and sliding out of the undergrowth. One is dark-skinned and bare-chested, his thick arms banded with tattoos. A cruel-looking hunting knife flashes in one hand, a sputtering torch in the other. His companion is a thin weasel of a man, with shifty eyes and a pockmarked face. He levels his pistol at the tigris then sees you and his eyes narrow. Your presence draws both men up short.
'Outta our way!' snarls the weasel.
You hear a splash behind you. The tigris has taken flight again, her child held tight to her chest. The dark-skinned man gives a rumbling growl as he advances towards you. The weasel swings his arm around, aiming his pistol for your chest.
Will you:
Attack the men?
Ask why they are hunting tigris?
Offer to help them?
Name: Mr. Patio
Path: Rogue
Career: Venommancer
Speed: +11, Brawn: +11, Magic: +3, Armor: +2
Health: 35
Prophecy
Demon claws
prevail
blood debt
tower
explorer
hexed
restless
south view
Frobisher's map
Ghiera's paw
Kaala's fang
Anansi's eye
spirit of the panther
spirit of the serpent
spirit of the spider
Book quest (reward at 471 when we have all 3 books)
Monkey temple at 596
Money Pouch: 411 Crowns
Path: Rogue
Career: Venommancer
Speed: +11, Brawn: +11, Magic: +3, Armor: +2
Health: 35
| Slot | Item | Speed | Brawn | Magic | Armor | Ability |
| Head | Garland of Sacrifice | +1 | +2 | Atonement | ||
| Necklace | Providence | +1 | +1 | Faith | ||
| Cloak | Conch Shoulders | +1 | +1 | Time Shift | ||
| Main Hand | Glaive of Souls | +2 | +2 | +2 | Vampirism | |
| Left Hand | Monarch Viper | +2 | +2 | Venom | ||
| Gloves | Spider Grips | +1 | +2 | Sure Grip | ||
| Chest | Snake-Skin Coat | +2 | +2 | Deceive | ||
| Feet | Sailor's Sandals | +1 | Surefooted | |||
| Talisman | Kaala's Scale | +1 | Venommancer | |||
| Ring 1 | Pins 'N' Needles | Thorns | ||||
| Ring 2 | Grieving Soul | +1 | Fire Aura |
| Backpack | Item |
| 1 | Golden Mirror |
| 2 | Elixir of Invisibility |
| 3 | Book of Omega |
| 4 | Saint's Blessing |
| 5 | Rubrica's Cube |
| Locker | Item |
| 1 | Gator Aid |
| 2 | Hair of the Wolf |
| 3 | Holy Water (2 uses) |
| 4 | Untamed Will |
Prophecy
Demon claws
prevail
blood debt
tower
explorer
hexed
restless
south view
Frobisher's map
Ghiera's paw
Kaala's fang
Anansi's eye
spirit of the panther
spirit of the serpent
spirit of the spider
Book quest (reward at 471 when we have all 3 books)
Monkey temple at 596
Money Pouch: 411 Crowns
Pseudo Stupidity wrote:This Applebees fucking sucks, much like all Applebees. I wanted to go to Femboy Hooters (communism).
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Omegonthesane
- Prince
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- Joined: Sat Sep 26, 2009 3:55 pm
Ask why the men are hunting a woman carrying her child to safety.
Kaelik wrote:Because powerful men get away with terrible shit, and even the public domain ones get ignored, and then, when the floodgates open, it turns out there was a goddam flood behind it.
Zak S, Zak Smith, Dndwithpornstars, Zak Sabbath, Justin Bieber, shitmuffin
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Darth Rabbitt
- Overlord
- Posts: 8870
- Joined: Thu Feb 05, 2009 8:31 pm
- Location: In "In The Trenches," mostly.
- Contact:
'You born yesterday, fool?' the dark-skinned hunter scowls. 'Tigris are worth good bounty back in the capital. Skin, bones—they'll take it all. And better alive.'
The weasel quickly wipes the wet hair from his eyes, circling you warily. 'We don't wanna lose her, so get on yer way. That babe is worth more than anything you could dream of—and as for her, might skin the spiteful beast, make her pay good for this.' He pats his leg where a bandana scarf has been used to poorly bind a wound. 'I ain't going back to the buckmaster empty-handed, so you either move or I swear I'll blow yer outta the way.'
Will you:
Attack the men?
Offer to help them?
The weasel quickly wipes the wet hair from his eyes, circling you warily. 'We don't wanna lose her, so get on yer way. That babe is worth more than anything you could dream of—and as for her, might skin the spiteful beast, make her pay good for this.' He pats his leg where a bandana scarf has been used to poorly bind a wound. 'I ain't going back to the buckmaster empty-handed, so you either move or I swear I'll blow yer outta the way.'
Will you:
Attack the men?
Offer to help them?
Pseudo Stupidity wrote:This Applebees fucking sucks, much like all Applebees. I wanted to go to Femboy Hooters (communism).
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Darth Rabbitt
- Overlord
- Posts: 8870
- Joined: Thu Feb 05, 2009 8:31 pm
- Location: In "In The Trenches," mostly.
- Contact:
We decide to throw our own exotic animal at the poachers. Mr. Patio whips out his long, powerful snake for the two men to see:
In order to buy time for the tigris to escape, you charge throw your snake in the faces of the two hunters. Weasel pulls the trigger of his pistol—his grin fading fast when it makes a dull, wet-sounding click. You kick the weapon out of his hands, spinning around to meet the other hunter's thrusting blade.
'Blast it!' The weasel draws a pair of skinning knives, before lurching into the fray. You must fight the hunters as a single enemy:
Once the hunters have been reduced to 15 health or less...
A black body flies out from the undergrowth, slamming into the weasel and sending him screaming into the jungle. You hear a savage roar and the sickening sound of claws rending through flesh. You stagger back, as does the dark-skinned hunter, both of you drawn out of your own private battle by this new threat.
A male tigris bounds back into the clearing, powerful legs driving it into the other hunter. They crash together, going down into the watery mud. A knife flashes, slashing into the beast's side—but the creature shows no pain, its claws and jaws delivering a decisive end to the fight.
The head snaps up, golden eyes glaring at you. Three scars run down the tiger man's face, revealing pale flesh between the orange, rain-soaked fur. For a moment, you are caught between running and fighting—but neither choice seems to offer an appealing outcome. Instead you lower your weapons in submission.
The tigris straightens to his full height, over eight feet tall, and steps towards you. 'You help Shara Khana,' he growls in an abrupt tone. 'You friend of pack.' He retracts his claws, beating a paw against his chest three times.
The foliage to your right rustles as it is pushed aside—and the female tigris reappears, the baby still clutched protectively in her arms. Her fanged mouth curls into a shy smile.
'Skin good,' growls the male, staring at you intently. 'You join us come to pack den.'
You look back to the female, wondering if this is some kind of trap—but she nods her head, smiling fondly. 'You saved our lives,' she says, glancing down at her baby. 'Come. Meet with Shara Khana. We give thanks.'
You meet the male's brilliant gaze and give an answering gesture, beating your chest three times. He grins with approval, then strides over to join the mother. 'We move before blood scent brings other predators.'
The tigris move swiftly through the jungle, weaving agilely between the gnarled roots and walls of liana. Often they resort to running on all fours, leaping and bounding over obstructions or springing off fallen trees. The babe clings to the mother's shoulders, looking neither alarmed nor concerned by their speedy flight. Perhaps this is what they are used to—forever running, forever trying to outrun the hunters.
As the rain finally starts to slow you break out of the tangled undergrowth, your feet thudding into banks of wet sand. A river stretches to your right, already swollen with the rainfall. Its sparkling waters churn and roil, pitching a constant stream of forest debris along its course.
Ahead, a group of tigris are standing underneath a shelf of rock. By their animated gestures, it looks as though an argument is taking place. Two sides seem to have formed—on the one side, a pack of white-furred tigris, and on the other a larger group with black-and-orange markings, similar to your companions.
Scar-face slows, putting his arm around the young mother and her cub. A sudden silence falls as the two packs of tigris halt their exchange and turn to watch. Before anyone can speak, the air rings with a ferocious roar. One of the white-furred tigris with black stripes and green eyes springs forward, muscles rippling in his powerful arms.
'You bring a skin here?' he snarls.
'Hold, Sheva. This one not like others. Helped us; helped Shara Khana.'
'We not take help from skins,' growls the white tiger. The rest of his group edge forward in an aggressive stance. 'Khana grow weak. Hunters take your spirit.'
'Scar-face leaps forward to face off against the white, his long tail whipping back and forth in agitation. 'I'll show you spirit, Sheva!'
'Hold your claws,' booms a voice.
Both of the tigris stiffen, looking back to the rock shelf where a larger orange has stepped forward. A thick mane of grey hair grows around his throat and shoulders. You suspect that this is their leader—or one of them at least—a leader accustomed to being followed. This Grey-hair glares at the white tigris. 'If we hope to cross the marsh, then we need fresh claws.'
'Marsh is the coward's way,' growls the white, making a face and spitting on the ground. 'I told you. We lost too many. Shara Sheva fight now.'
'Please, no.' The mother speaks up for the first time, addressing the grey-haired leader. 'They are strong. I tried to find a better way—' She pauses, glancing sideways at Scar-face. 'We tried to find better way,' she corrects. 'But hunters have pack lands and spread like shadow. Old dens not safe.'
Grey-hair grunts softly. 'I told you this. Better you see this with your own eyes.'
The white gives a rumbling growl. 'No one ever crosses marsh. Sheva fight now, before we all gone.' His green eyes regard you with utter disdain. 'Would this one lend its claws, turn steel against its own kin?'
'No,' implores Scar-face. 'The marsh is the better way. We flee across the mountains—find new dens. Join Khana—we need more claws.'
Will you:
Ask about the marsh?
Ask about the skins?
Agree to help the Khana flee?
Agree to help the Sheva fight?
I think it's safe to assume we want to ask the two questions before picking a side, so I'll do that:
The marsh:
'Don't speak of it,' snarls the white tigris, his mean scowl chastising you. 'The marsh is cursed. Land of ghosts and bad spirits.'
Grey-hair shakes his head. 'Sheva, it is the only way. Skins will not follow us across the marsh. They speak of the grey and know her power.'
'The grey?' you ask, glancing sideways at Scar-face.
The younger tigris shifts uneasily. 'A Lamuri witch. She can stalk you both in flesh and in dreams. The marsh is her hunting ground and no one passes.'
'Beyond the marsh is the stone claws,' continues Grey-hair. 'What the skins call the cloud mountains. We cross stone claws and we find escape—from the hunters.'
The white tigris glares back at the leader defiantly. 'A coward's choice. But not ours. Shara Sheva are fighters. We do not run from skins!'
The skins:
'We try to talk, then we try to fight, but they keep coming, spreading like a disease across the forest.' Grey-hair's shoulders slump, looking as old as his years. 'They hunt us and take us away from den homes. We have lost many—pack brothers, sisters, young cubs.'
The white tigris clenches his paws. 'And that is why we must fight, Khana! We are the hunters of the forest, not them! Flee to the marsh and death will follow. Sheva are not cowards. We will show our claws!' There are roars of approval from his pack members, whilst the other tigris have fallen into a rebellious silence.
Will you:
Agree to help the Khana flee?
Agree to help the Sheva fight?
In order to buy time for the tigris to escape, you charge throw your snake in the faces of the two hunters. Weasel pulls the trigger of his pistol—his grin fading fast when it makes a dull, wet-sounding click. You kick the weapon out of his hands, spinning around to meet the other hunter's thrusting blade.
'Blast it!' The weasel draws a pair of skinning knives, before lurching into the fray. You must fight the hunters as a single enemy:
| Speed | Brawn | Armor | Health | |
| Hunters | 9 | 7 | 4 | 50 (*) |
We shouldn't need more abilities than our DoTs and Snake Strike against these losers. But I'll throw our shiny new Sure Grip into the mix just for fun.
*Snake Strike* The Hunters take 5 damage and are afflicted with venom. They're at 45.
Round 1: Patio 7+11, Hunters 6+9. Damage 3+11-4=10, Hunters are at 35.*DoTs* They're at 31.
Round 2: Patio 6+11 (sure grip'd, 11+11), Hunters 7+9. Damage 5+11-4=12, Hunters are at 19. *DoTs* They're at 15.
*Snake Strike* The Hunters take 5 damage and are afflicted with venom. They're at 45.
Round 1: Patio 7+11, Hunters 6+9. Damage 3+11-4=10, Hunters are at 35.*DoTs* They're at 31.
Round 2: Patio 6+11 (sure grip'd, 11+11), Hunters 7+9. Damage 5+11-4=12, Hunters are at 19. *DoTs* They're at 15.
A black body flies out from the undergrowth, slamming into the weasel and sending him screaming into the jungle. You hear a savage roar and the sickening sound of claws rending through flesh. You stagger back, as does the dark-skinned hunter, both of you drawn out of your own private battle by this new threat.
A male tigris bounds back into the clearing, powerful legs driving it into the other hunter. They crash together, going down into the watery mud. A knife flashes, slashing into the beast's side—but the creature shows no pain, its claws and jaws delivering a decisive end to the fight.
The head snaps up, golden eyes glaring at you. Three scars run down the tiger man's face, revealing pale flesh between the orange, rain-soaked fur. For a moment, you are caught between running and fighting—but neither choice seems to offer an appealing outcome. Instead you lower your weapons in submission.
The tigris straightens to his full height, over eight feet tall, and steps towards you. 'You help Shara Khana,' he growls in an abrupt tone. 'You friend of pack.' He retracts his claws, beating a paw against his chest three times.
The foliage to your right rustles as it is pushed aside—and the female tigris reappears, the baby still clutched protectively in her arms. Her fanged mouth curls into a shy smile.
'Skin good,' growls the male, staring at you intently. 'You join us come to pack den.'
You look back to the female, wondering if this is some kind of trap—but she nods her head, smiling fondly. 'You saved our lives,' she says, glancing down at her baby. 'Come. Meet with Shara Khana. We give thanks.'
You meet the male's brilliant gaze and give an answering gesture, beating your chest three times. He grins with approval, then strides over to join the mother. 'We move before blood scent brings other predators.'
The tigris move swiftly through the jungle, weaving agilely between the gnarled roots and walls of liana. Often they resort to running on all fours, leaping and bounding over obstructions or springing off fallen trees. The babe clings to the mother's shoulders, looking neither alarmed nor concerned by their speedy flight. Perhaps this is what they are used to—forever running, forever trying to outrun the hunters.
As the rain finally starts to slow you break out of the tangled undergrowth, your feet thudding into banks of wet sand. A river stretches to your right, already swollen with the rainfall. Its sparkling waters churn and roil, pitching a constant stream of forest debris along its course.
Ahead, a group of tigris are standing underneath a shelf of rock. By their animated gestures, it looks as though an argument is taking place. Two sides seem to have formed—on the one side, a pack of white-furred tigris, and on the other a larger group with black-and-orange markings, similar to your companions.
Scar-face slows, putting his arm around the young mother and her cub. A sudden silence falls as the two packs of tigris halt their exchange and turn to watch. Before anyone can speak, the air rings with a ferocious roar. One of the white-furred tigris with black stripes and green eyes springs forward, muscles rippling in his powerful arms.
'You bring a skin here?' he snarls.
'Hold, Sheva. This one not like others. Helped us; helped Shara Khana.'
'We not take help from skins,' growls the white tiger. The rest of his group edge forward in an aggressive stance. 'Khana grow weak. Hunters take your spirit.'
'Scar-face leaps forward to face off against the white, his long tail whipping back and forth in agitation. 'I'll show you spirit, Sheva!'
'Hold your claws,' booms a voice.
Both of the tigris stiffen, looking back to the rock shelf where a larger orange has stepped forward. A thick mane of grey hair grows around his throat and shoulders. You suspect that this is their leader—or one of them at least—a leader accustomed to being followed. This Grey-hair glares at the white tigris. 'If we hope to cross the marsh, then we need fresh claws.'
'Marsh is the coward's way,' growls the white, making a face and spitting on the ground. 'I told you. We lost too many. Shara Sheva fight now.'
'Please, no.' The mother speaks up for the first time, addressing the grey-haired leader. 'They are strong. I tried to find a better way—' She pauses, glancing sideways at Scar-face. 'We tried to find better way,' she corrects. 'But hunters have pack lands and spread like shadow. Old dens not safe.'
Grey-hair grunts softly. 'I told you this. Better you see this with your own eyes.'
The white gives a rumbling growl. 'No one ever crosses marsh. Sheva fight now, before we all gone.' His green eyes regard you with utter disdain. 'Would this one lend its claws, turn steel against its own kin?'
'No,' implores Scar-face. 'The marsh is the better way. We flee across the mountains—find new dens. Join Khana—we need more claws.'
Will you:
Ask about the marsh?
Ask about the skins?
Agree to help the Khana flee?
Agree to help the Sheva fight?
I think it's safe to assume we want to ask the two questions before picking a side, so I'll do that:
The marsh:
'Don't speak of it,' snarls the white tigris, his mean scowl chastising you. 'The marsh is cursed. Land of ghosts and bad spirits.'
Grey-hair shakes his head. 'Sheva, it is the only way. Skins will not follow us across the marsh. They speak of the grey and know her power.'
'The grey?' you ask, glancing sideways at Scar-face.
The younger tigris shifts uneasily. 'A Lamuri witch. She can stalk you both in flesh and in dreams. The marsh is her hunting ground and no one passes.'
'Beyond the marsh is the stone claws,' continues Grey-hair. 'What the skins call the cloud mountains. We cross stone claws and we find escape—from the hunters.'
The white tigris glares back at the leader defiantly. 'A coward's choice. But not ours. Shara Sheva are fighters. We do not run from skins!'
The skins:
'We try to talk, then we try to fight, but they keep coming, spreading like a disease across the forest.' Grey-hair's shoulders slump, looking as old as his years. 'They hunt us and take us away from den homes. We have lost many—pack brothers, sisters, young cubs.'
The white tigris clenches his paws. 'And that is why we must fight, Khana! We are the hunters of the forest, not them! Flee to the marsh and death will follow. Sheva are not cowards. We will show our claws!' There are roars of approval from his pack members, whilst the other tigris have fallen into a rebellious silence.
Will you:
Agree to help the Khana flee?
Agree to help the Sheva fight?
Pseudo Stupidity wrote:This Applebees fucking sucks, much like all Applebees. I wanted to go to Femboy Hooters (communism).
-
Omegonthesane
- Prince
- Posts: 3697
- Joined: Sat Sep 26, 2009 3:55 pm
A long and risky journey is the coward's way out? Fuck that. Help the Khana flee.
Besides, they clearly don't have the technology base to overcome the advantage the hunters have, while distracting "a witch, literally one actual witch" is more within the wheelhouse of a solo adventurer than overcoming a large military force. (Nevermind that this didn't stop Trellis.)
Besides, they clearly don't have the technology base to overcome the advantage the hunters have, while distracting "a witch, literally one actual witch" is more within the wheelhouse of a solo adventurer than overcoming a large military force. (Nevermind that this didn't stop Trellis.)
Kaelik wrote:Because powerful men get away with terrible shit, and even the public domain ones get ignored, and then, when the floodgates open, it turns out there was a goddam flood behind it.
Zak S, Zak Smith, Dndwithpornstars, Zak Sabbath, Justin Bieber, shitmuffin
-
Darth Rabbitt
- Overlord
- Posts: 8870
- Joined: Thu Feb 05, 2009 8:31 pm
- Location: In "In The Trenches," mostly.
- Contact:
It wouldn't necessarily stop Patio, either, but it's a tougher path to take because you don't heal between battles and there are a lot of poachers to fight. Agreed that equating "going on a long and dangerous journey" with "cowardice" is stupid, though. It's arguably dishonorable, assuming that you (as the Sheva seem to) define honor as "go down fighting" but not at all cowardly.
The white tigris grunts, turning his back on you. 'This skin not worthy of the Sheva. Take this one to the marsh. We are done here.'
The white tigris depart in silence, heading back into the dark forest. Scar-face walks over and places a paw on your shoulder. 'You kin now. I believe the great spirit, Shonac, sent you to fight for us.'
The leader, Grey-hair, watches you from the rock shelf. 'We welcome you to Shara Khana, bright claw. The journey across the marsh has many dangers. Prepare yourself, we leave at first light.'
Will you:
Ask about the name, Shara Khana?
Ask about Shonac, the great spirit?
Leave for the marsh?
The name, Shara Khana:
'We all Shara Khana,' states Scar-face, patting his chest then pointing to the rest of the pack in turn. 'Not have names like skins. We all pack. Shara Khana. That is our name.'
You look back towards the rock shelf, where more members of the pack are appearing from the forest. It is a paltry gathering—only a dozen tigris, eight males and four females. The only child that you see is the one you helped to save, still clutched protectively in their mother's arms. 'Is this all that is left of your pack?' you ask, bewildered.
Scar-face fixes you with his round, yellow eyes. 'Hunters take the rest. That is why we leave. To save Shara Khana. I believe that is what Shonac would do.'
Shonac, the great spirit:
'Shonac was the first,' explains Scar-face proudly. 'A skin, like you. He was a Lamuri prince. Exiled from his kin. A brave warrior. One day he lassoed the last of the great tigers, Quan Mait. He beat it with his club until Mait shared its secrets. Then Shonac kill tiger to take its pelt—make Shonac as strong as the mighty Quan Mait.'
'So, Shonac was the first of your people,' you nod. 'If he was a warrior, then wouldn't he have chosen to fight the hunters—make them pay for what they are doing?'
Scar-face wrinkles his nose. 'Shonac taught us to choose our battles. We show claws to save our pack. Not lose it.'
(So yeah, it seems that the Sheva really do just think that honor means FIGHT FIGHT FIGHT ALL THE TIME.)
Leaving for the marsh:
You trek through the muggy dawn—a silent procession, winding between the towering trees of the forest. Scar-face leads the way, accompanied by a female pack member, her face permanently twisted into a scowl. Occasionally she glances back at you, teeth bared. You sense that not everyone is happy with you joining the pack.
Grey-hair walks at your side, his head constantly turning from side to side as he silently regards his surroundings. Little has been said since leaving the river—the tigris have proved to be a taciturn people, content to watch and listen rather than give voice to their thoughts. Knowing of the dangers that lurk here in the forest, perhaps silence is a wise defense.
Just before midday, Scar-face makes the first warning signal—raising a paw to halt the procession. The female tracker is scraping something from the groove of a tree. She holds it out to Grey-hair, who moves to inspect her find. You peer past his shoulder to see a collection of jelly-like eggs.
'Drecko,' snarls Grey-hair, his claws sliding out from his paws as he regards the tree tops. You notice that the rest of the pack is now hugging the ground, looking up through the shelves of foliage.
Then you hear a hacking cry from the trees behind you. There is an answering call from deeper in the forest. Quickly, you ready your weapons, trying to catch sight of whatever has spooked the tigris.
'There!' hisses Grey-hair, pointing.
You see a dark shape gliding across a thin patch of sky. It has black, webbed wings and a scaled body. It disappears into the canopy as another series of guttural calls breaks the brooding silence.
Several tense minutes pass, all eyes remaining on the trees. You are about to relax, believing that the tigris are overly cautious, when suddenly the first of the beasts swoops down from above. You catch sight of a bone-crested head and curved talons. Then one of the tigris is snarling and screeching as it is grabbed in the creature's jaws and lifted up into the air. More of the creatures glide in from the opposite direction, their wings casting long shadows across the ground. One of them closes in on you, looking to snap you up with its needle-like fangs. It is time to fight:
Special Abilities
Winged predator: It is difficult to outmaneuver this agile combatant. You must lower your speed by 1 for the duration of this fight.
Delirium: After the drecko makes a successful attack that causes health damage, you are immediately infected with delirium. If you win a combat round, roll a die. If the result is [1] or [2] then your attack misses its mark and you cannot roll for damage. If the result is [3] or more, you can roll for damage as normal.
We didn't even need toxicology, as it turns out.
You sever the creature's wings, dropping it to the ground. As the drecko scrabbles in vain to defend itself, you step in quickly and deliver a killing blow.
You may now help yourself to one of the following rewards:
Fang of the fearless (main hand: dagger) +2 speed +1 brawn ability: deep wound (co: You can use this ability to roll an extra die when determining your damage score. You can only use this ability once per combat.) (requirement: rogue)
Rainbow-skin brassard (gloves) +1 speed +1 magic ability: regrowth (requirement: mage)
Brightscale hauberk (chest) +2 brawn +2 armor ability: radiance (requirement: warrior)
The tigris have seen off the rest of the drecko. Only one of their pack was lost in the fight—the unfortunate male who was carried away in the first attack. The tigris honor their lost comrade with a brief silence, heads bowed and paws clenched at their sides. Then their leader, Grey-hair, beats his chest three times. There are answering gestures from the rest of the pack, before they resume their march—expressions hard and resolute.
The forest starts to thin, quickly becoming bare hills strewn with hummocks of moss and lichen-covered boulders. A mile further in and a grey-white wall looms out of the haze—a limestone cliff, marking the boundary of an impassable plain of bluffs and ridges.
'We pass under rock,' states Grey-hair, pointing to a ragged crack in the cliff-side. 'Caves take us to marsh.'
Scar-face leads the way into the narrow crevice. Your shoulders brush against the sharp walls that loom close on either side, as if conspiring to keep you from advancing further. You squeeze through the tight spaces, trying to ignore the creeping sense of claustrophobia that threatens to overwhelm you. You take comfort in the occasional glimpse of daylight high above, but these become less frequent as you descend deeper, the tunnel eventually bringing you out into an underground cave.
It is pitch black and yet you can clearly make out the crowns of stalagmites protruding from the pitted ground. Once again, you are thankful for the strange powers that you have inherited from the demon.
Eventually the cavern dips, splitting into two tunnels. One winds away to the north, where a sickly smell wafts on a faint breeze. To the east is a wider tunnel which twists away, out of sight. Your sharpened hearing picks out a skittering sound coming from that direction, like many feet tapping across stone.
Scar-face looks back at the pack, waiting for a decision.
Grey-hair leans towards you. 'What do your instincts say, bright claw?'
Will you:
Suggest taking the north passage?
Suggest taking the east passage?
Also decide whether or not we want to take the fang of the fearless dagger from the drecko. I assume not because of the whole "nudges towards the resolution of the spear sidequest" thing but I also don't want to rob you of choices even if I've been going through the last couple of exposition trees.
The white tigris grunts, turning his back on you. 'This skin not worthy of the Sheva. Take this one to the marsh. We are done here.'
The white tigris depart in silence, heading back into the dark forest. Scar-face walks over and places a paw on your shoulder. 'You kin now. I believe the great spirit, Shonac, sent you to fight for us.'
The leader, Grey-hair, watches you from the rock shelf. 'We welcome you to Shara Khana, bright claw. The journey across the marsh has many dangers. Prepare yourself, we leave at first light.'
Will you:
Ask about the name, Shara Khana?
Ask about Shonac, the great spirit?
Leave for the marsh?
The name, Shara Khana:
'We all Shara Khana,' states Scar-face, patting his chest then pointing to the rest of the pack in turn. 'Not have names like skins. We all pack. Shara Khana. That is our name.'
You look back towards the rock shelf, where more members of the pack are appearing from the forest. It is a paltry gathering—only a dozen tigris, eight males and four females. The only child that you see is the one you helped to save, still clutched protectively in their mother's arms. 'Is this all that is left of your pack?' you ask, bewildered.
Scar-face fixes you with his round, yellow eyes. 'Hunters take the rest. That is why we leave. To save Shara Khana. I believe that is what Shonac would do.'
Shara Khana is of course also a Jungle Book reference since Michael J. Ward loves those (see also: Kaala in this book, and the arena sidequest that Trellis lost to King Louis in the first one. The champion of that sidequest is actually another Shara Khana.) Siding with the poachers or helping out the Sheva in their attack give hints that one of the reasons live tigris are so valuable is that they make for good gladiators. Which is actually a nice bit of continuity between books there, so I'll give props for that. This quest in general is fairly well-designed.
'Shonac was the first,' explains Scar-face proudly. 'A skin, like you. He was a Lamuri prince. Exiled from his kin. A brave warrior. One day he lassoed the last of the great tigers, Quan Mait. He beat it with his club until Mait shared its secrets. Then Shonac kill tiger to take its pelt—make Shonac as strong as the mighty Quan Mait.'
'So, Shonac was the first of your people,' you nod. 'If he was a warrior, then wouldn't he have chosen to fight the hunters—make them pay for what they are doing?'
Scar-face wrinkles his nose. 'Shonac taught us to choose our battles. We show claws to save our pack. Not lose it.'
(So yeah, it seems that the Sheva really do just think that honor means FIGHT FIGHT FIGHT ALL THE TIME.)
Leaving for the marsh:
You trek through the muggy dawn—a silent procession, winding between the towering trees of the forest. Scar-face leads the way, accompanied by a female pack member, her face permanently twisted into a scowl. Occasionally she glances back at you, teeth bared. You sense that not everyone is happy with you joining the pack.
Grey-hair walks at your side, his head constantly turning from side to side as he silently regards his surroundings. Little has been said since leaving the river—the tigris have proved to be a taciturn people, content to watch and listen rather than give voice to their thoughts. Knowing of the dangers that lurk here in the forest, perhaps silence is a wise defense.
Just before midday, Scar-face makes the first warning signal—raising a paw to halt the procession. The female tracker is scraping something from the groove of a tree. She holds it out to Grey-hair, who moves to inspect her find. You peer past his shoulder to see a collection of jelly-like eggs.
'Drecko,' snarls Grey-hair, his claws sliding out from his paws as he regards the tree tops. You notice that the rest of the pack is now hugging the ground, looking up through the shelves of foliage.
Then you hear a hacking cry from the trees behind you. There is an answering call from deeper in the forest. Quickly, you ready your weapons, trying to catch sight of whatever has spooked the tigris.
'There!' hisses Grey-hair, pointing.
You see a dark shape gliding across a thin patch of sky. It has black, webbed wings and a scaled body. It disappears into the canopy as another series of guttural calls breaks the brooding silence.
Several tense minutes pass, all eyes remaining on the trees. You are about to relax, believing that the tigris are overly cautious, when suddenly the first of the beasts swoops down from above. You catch sight of a bone-crested head and curved talons. Then one of the tigris is snarling and screeching as it is grabbed in the creature's jaws and lifted up into the air. More of the creatures glide in from the opposite direction, their wings casting long shadows across the ground. One of them closes in on you, looking to snap you up with its needle-like fangs. It is time to fight:
| Speed | Brawn | Armor | Health | |
| Drecko | 8 | 6 | 8 | 50 |
Special Abilities
Winged predator: It is difficult to outmaneuver this agile combatant. You must lower your speed by 1 for the duration of this fight.
Delirium: After the drecko makes a successful attack that causes health damage, you are immediately infected with delirium. If you win a combat round, roll a die. If the result is [1] or [2] then your attack misses its mark and you cannot roll for damage. If the result is [3] or more, you can roll for damage as normal.
Fortunately, being a venommancer makes us immune to delirium effects, and without that this thing is basically just a little tougher than the two hunters. Since nothing cancels the speed penalty I'm not quite sure why the drecko just isn't listed as Speed 9. Abilities are snake strike, toxicology, venom, fire aura, thorns, deceive, demon claws, and sure grip.
*Snake Strike* Drecko takes 7 damage and is afflicted with venom. It's at 43.
Round 1: Patio 7+10, Drecko 5+8. Damage 6+11-8=9, Drecko is at 34. *DoTs* It's at 30.
Round 2: Patio 9+10, Drecko 6+8. Damage 5+11-8=8, Drecko is at 22. *DoTs* It's at 18.
Round 3: Patio 9+10, Drecko 11+8 (deceive'd, Patio 10+10, Drecko 9+8. *Demon claws* Drecko is at 14.) Damage 1+11-8=4, Drecko is at 10. *DoTs* Drecko is at 6.
Round 4: Patio 5+10, Drecko 5+8. Damage 3+11-8=6, Drecko is dead.
*Snake Strike* Drecko takes 7 damage and is afflicted with venom. It's at 43.
Round 1: Patio 7+10, Drecko 5+8. Damage 6+11-8=9, Drecko is at 34. *DoTs* It's at 30.
Round 2: Patio 9+10, Drecko 6+8. Damage 5+11-8=8, Drecko is at 22. *DoTs* It's at 18.
Round 3: Patio 9+10, Drecko 11+8 (deceive'd, Patio 10+10, Drecko 9+8. *Demon claws* Drecko is at 14.) Damage 1+11-8=4, Drecko is at 10. *DoTs* Drecko is at 6.
Round 4: Patio 5+10, Drecko 5+8. Damage 3+11-8=6, Drecko is dead.
You sever the creature's wings, dropping it to the ground. As the drecko scrabbles in vain to defend itself, you step in quickly and deliver a killing blow.
You may now help yourself to one of the following rewards:
Fang of the fearless (main hand: dagger) +2 speed +1 brawn ability: deep wound (co: You can use this ability to roll an extra die when determining your damage score. You can only use this ability once per combat.) (requirement: rogue)
Rainbow-skin brassard (gloves) +1 speed +1 magic ability: regrowth (requirement: mage)
Brightscale hauberk (chest) +2 brawn +2 armor ability: radiance (requirement: warrior)
The tigris have seen off the rest of the drecko. Only one of their pack was lost in the fight—the unfortunate male who was carried away in the first attack. The tigris honor their lost comrade with a brief silence, heads bowed and paws clenched at their sides. Then their leader, Grey-hair, beats his chest three times. There are answering gestures from the rest of the pack, before they resume their march—expressions hard and resolute.
The forest starts to thin, quickly becoming bare hills strewn with hummocks of moss and lichen-covered boulders. A mile further in and a grey-white wall looms out of the haze—a limestone cliff, marking the boundary of an impassable plain of bluffs and ridges.
'We pass under rock,' states Grey-hair, pointing to a ragged crack in the cliff-side. 'Caves take us to marsh.'
Scar-face leads the way into the narrow crevice. Your shoulders brush against the sharp walls that loom close on either side, as if conspiring to keep you from advancing further. You squeeze through the tight spaces, trying to ignore the creeping sense of claustrophobia that threatens to overwhelm you. You take comfort in the occasional glimpse of daylight high above, but these become less frequent as you descend deeper, the tunnel eventually bringing you out into an underground cave.
It is pitch black and yet you can clearly make out the crowns of stalagmites protruding from the pitted ground. Once again, you are thankful for the strange powers that you have inherited from the demon.
Eventually the cavern dips, splitting into two tunnels. One winds away to the north, where a sickly smell wafts on a faint breeze. To the east is a wider tunnel which twists away, out of sight. Your sharpened hearing picks out a skittering sound coming from that direction, like many feet tapping across stone.
Scar-face looks back at the pack, waiting for a decision.
Grey-hair leans towards you. 'What do your instincts say, bright claw?'
Will you:
Suggest taking the north passage?
Suggest taking the east passage?
Also decide whether or not we want to take the fang of the fearless dagger from the drecko. I assume not because of the whole "nudges towards the resolution of the spear sidequest" thing but I also don't want to rob you of choices even if I've been going through the last couple of exposition trees.
Pseudo Stupidity wrote:This Applebees fucking sucks, much like all Applebees. I wanted to go to Femboy Hooters (communism).
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Omegonthesane
- Prince
- Posts: 3697
- Joined: Sat Sep 26, 2009 3:55 pm
Leave the fang of the fearless to rot, it doesn't even have competititve stats with the spear unlike the weapon I said we stash.
North passage, bcos we're a venomancer so might be more resilient to whatever poisonous shit that sickly smell is warning us of.
North passage, bcos we're a venomancer so might be more resilient to whatever poisonous shit that sickly smell is warning us of.
Kaelik wrote:Because powerful men get away with terrible shit, and even the public domain ones get ignored, and then, when the floodgates open, it turns out there was a goddam flood behind it.
Zak S, Zak Smith, Dndwithpornstars, Zak Sabbath, Justin Bieber, shitmuffin
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Darth Rabbitt
- Overlord
- Posts: 8870
- Joined: Thu Feb 05, 2009 8:31 pm
- Location: In "In The Trenches," mostly.
- Contact:
As you advance, the smell grows worse—a pungent, stagnant odor that makes you start to gag. It is accompanied by a loud crunching underfoot. You crouch down, taking a closer look at the white crispy substance that covers the ground and crushing some between your fingers.
'Bats,' sniffs Grey-hair with revulsion. His eyes flick to the ceiling, where you hear the whisper of wings.
You sniff the white goo and suddenly flinch away, realization dawning. 'Bat guano,' you scowl, quickly wiping your hand against your chest.
'Good for earth. Bad for smell,' grins the elderly tigris, his whiskers bristling around a sly smile.
A few meters ahead the tunnel widens into another cave. At its center is a rectangular mound, too angular to be a natural formation. Scar-face scrapes the guano from its surface, then beckons you over.
'Dwarf stone,' he says, pointing to the runes carved into the surface. You note that there are four square tiles set into the lid, each one showing a different glyph. There is an empty depression where you assume there was once a fifth tile.
(Mr. Patio does not have the rune stone.) Your attempts to break into the stone container prove in vain. You rejoin the others and continue into the opposite tunnel.
The tunnel quickly branches into a confusing maze of side passages and shafts. Thankfully Scar-face and Scowler seem certain of their route, moving with an easy confidence as they lead you through the maze. At last, after what seems like hours of travel, you feel a cool wind brushing against your face. It carries with it a brackish, stagnant odor that reminds you of the fenlands outside Carvel.
A few twists and turns later and you see daylight ahead. You follow the tigris out of the caves and into the brightness. At first the light is blinding, your eyes having become accustomed to the dark. Then your surroundings slowly blur into focus.
A jumble of rocks spill from the mouth of the cave, leading down to the sun-kissed waters of the marsh. They stretch away into the dawn mist, lapping around islands of wind-tussled grass. Overhead a flock of birds wheel through the haze, their bright plumage sparkling like embers of fire, whilst below frogs and crickets beat their lively chirruping chorus—as if to welcome you to their home.
The marsh. The domain of the Lamuri witch.
'Doesn't look too dangerous to me,' you smile, glancing at Grey-hair.
The elderly tigris rumbles with dissent. 'Do not fall for charm. The witch of the waters is a deadly foe. Her claws tear at mind, not...just...body.'
The tigris' words drawl, his face becoming an unclear smudge of orange and black.
You scrub your hand across your eyes as you struggle to focus. The dappled light is misting your surroundings, making everything vague and indistinct.
'What's happening...?' You stagger forward drunkenly. When you try and steady yourself, you discover your arms won't move—they are being held back, high above your head. You feel cold iron biting into your wrists.
'A marsh,' says a voice, cold and impassionate. You hear the scratching of a pen on parchment. The noise is grating; each stroke setting your teeth on edge. 'Describe it again. I need to know more.'
You blink, the wash of colors suddenly solidifying into the grey walls of a cell. A thin bald-headed man sits opposite you, hunched over a desk. He is surrounded by rolls of parchment.
'No...this isn't real!' you gasp, pulling against your restraints. 'I was in the forest...the caves...'
The librarian looks up from his work, his pen lifting off the page. 'No. You were experiencing a vision. A possible future.'
Desperately you look around, searching for some clue—some flaw in this dream—to prove that it is not real. But the musty smell of the cell, the bitter cold of the iron manacles, the pain in your aching joints—all of it feels horribly real.
'This is a dream,' you insist through gritted teeth. 'The Lamuri witch. This is her work...'
The man leans forward, his eyes suddenly bright with interest. 'Yes, the witch. The tigris mentioned her. Tell me more. Do you see her now?'
'No!' You pull at your chains, feeling them rub painfully against your bleeding sores.
The librarian settles back, looking disappointed. 'Perhaps some Elysium.'
'No.' Tears fill your eyes, a solid lump forming in your throat. 'Please...this isn't real. I was in the jungle...the Terral Jungle.'
'Good. Good.' There is the scrape of a chair as the librarian gets to his feet. He walks over, untying a leather gourd from his belt. 'This will take you back. Make you see again.'
He lifts up your chin, pouring the thick milky liquid into your mouth. You gulp it down thirstily, your body craving its sustenance—dulling out the pain. 'Yes,' you smile, your eyes fluttering closed. 'I see again...'
You find yourself seated on a rock, overlooking the marsh. The rest of the tigris are resting nearby, talking in hushed tones. Grey-hair and Scowler stand apart from the group, discussing something with serious expressions. Scowler shakes her head, but Grey-hair presses on—evidently trying to convince her of something.
You push yourself to your feet and approach the two tigris. Grey-hair turns as you approach.
'Bright claw, you look troubled.'
You realize you are rubbing at your wrists, which have started to throb with a dull pain. 'It is nothing,' you reply, dropping them to your sides. 'Has a decision been made?'
Scowler snorts and walks away, standing alone to look out over the marsh.
'Yes. The marsh is too dangerous to cross,' sighs Grey-hair. 'I decide Khana stay here until safe. You and scouts go ahead. Once the witch dead, we all come.' He glances over his shoulder, to where Scar-face is hugging the mother and young cub. You guess they must be family and Scar-face has told her the news. When the young tigris turns away, you can see the pain in his eyes.
'This is not to their liking,' you state solemnly.
Grey-hair scratches at his whiskers. 'Pack long feared this place. No one ever return.'
Scar-face walks past in silence, beckoning to Scowler. The female nods, then together they start off into the marsh without another word.
'Look after my cubs,' says Grey-hair, placing a paw on your shoulder. 'May Shonac keep your claws sharp—and eyes sharper.'
As the marsh fog thickens, you feel an increasing sense that you are traveling through some peculiar dreamscape. Everything becomes slow and sluggish, from your own movements as you drag your feet through the mud to those of your companions slinking ahead, their ears pricked as they glance from side to side. You can sense their nervousness. Neither wanted to come here.
You struggle to stay focused, your limbs feeling weak and lethargic. Several times you stumble and fall into the cold, brackish waters—each time, taking a little longer to drag yourself back to your feet. Eventually you find yourself crawling—head bowed—shivering from the wet and the cold. You cannot tell how long you have traveled or how far, but when your hands scrabble over stone, you finally look up.
Before you is a ruined building. It might have been a temple once, a grand structure surrounded by columns and decorative arches. Now it is part of the marsh, crumbling and old—most of its walls dragged down by reed-like vines. A vulture peers at you from one of the broken statues, its collar of white fur standing stark against its black feathers. An ill omen, perhaps.
You manage to stand, swaying with nausea, the grey-stone of the ruin swimming in and out of focus. There is no sign of the others. You sag against a wall, gasping for breath...then your strength gives out and you fall...
'Get up!' a voice hisses in your ear.
In the distance you hear a thunderous boom and the clatter of falling rock. You open your eyes to see Virgil standing over you. The cell door is twisted off its hinges, black roots breaking up out of the cracked stone floor.
'Where...am I?' you croak,. feeling yourself be lifted up.
The witchfinder's face swings into view. 'I told you I was coming back. We're getting out of here.'
You notice three deep gashes cutting across the man's cheek, coating his neck and the collars of his coat in blood. 'This is not what happened...' you gasp, looking around at the Durnhollow cell.
'Because this is real,' growls the witchfinder, slapping your face with a gloved hand. 'You are drugged on Elysium. What you have experienced—what you have seen—it isn't real.'
You push him away, backing up against the wall. 'No, you're lying.' From the passageway you can hear sounds of battle—steel clamoring against steel, and fizzing cracks of magic. 'This is not what happened!' You grip your head, struggling to remember, to reorder your thoughts. 'I was in the marsh. Lost in the marsh...'
Virgil draws a curved blade from his belt. It flickers with a yellow, sickly light. 'I can't leave you here, prophet. Come with me or you die in this cell.'
Will you:
Agree to follow Virgil?
Attack Virgil?
'Bats,' sniffs Grey-hair with revulsion. His eyes flick to the ceiling, where you hear the whisper of wings.
You sniff the white goo and suddenly flinch away, realization dawning. 'Bat guano,' you scowl, quickly wiping your hand against your chest.
'Good for earth. Bad for smell,' grins the elderly tigris, his whiskers bristling around a sly smile.
A few meters ahead the tunnel widens into another cave. At its center is a rectangular mound, too angular to be a natural formation. Scar-face scrapes the guano from its surface, then beckons you over.
'Dwarf stone,' he says, pointing to the runes carved into the surface. You note that there are four square tiles set into the lid, each one showing a different glyph. There is an empty depression where you assume there was once a fifth tile.
(Mr. Patio does not have the rune stone.) Your attempts to break into the stone container prove in vain. You rejoin the others and continue into the opposite tunnel.
The tunnel quickly branches into a confusing maze of side passages and shafts. Thankfully Scar-face and Scowler seem certain of their route, moving with an easy confidence as they lead you through the maze. At last, after what seems like hours of travel, you feel a cool wind brushing against your face. It carries with it a brackish, stagnant odor that reminds you of the fenlands outside Carvel.
A few twists and turns later and you see daylight ahead. You follow the tigris out of the caves and into the brightness. At first the light is blinding, your eyes having become accustomed to the dark. Then your surroundings slowly blur into focus.
A jumble of rocks spill from the mouth of the cave, leading down to the sun-kissed waters of the marsh. They stretch away into the dawn mist, lapping around islands of wind-tussled grass. Overhead a flock of birds wheel through the haze, their bright plumage sparkling like embers of fire, whilst below frogs and crickets beat their lively chirruping chorus—as if to welcome you to their home.
The marsh. The domain of the Lamuri witch.
'Doesn't look too dangerous to me,' you smile, glancing at Grey-hair.
The elderly tigris rumbles with dissent. 'Do not fall for charm. The witch of the waters is a deadly foe. Her claws tear at mind, not...just...body.'
The tigris' words drawl, his face becoming an unclear smudge of orange and black.
You scrub your hand across your eyes as you struggle to focus. The dappled light is misting your surroundings, making everything vague and indistinct.
'What's happening...?' You stagger forward drunkenly. When you try and steady yourself, you discover your arms won't move—they are being held back, high above your head. You feel cold iron biting into your wrists.
'A marsh,' says a voice, cold and impassionate. You hear the scratching of a pen on parchment. The noise is grating; each stroke setting your teeth on edge. 'Describe it again. I need to know more.'
You blink, the wash of colors suddenly solidifying into the grey walls of a cell. A thin bald-headed man sits opposite you, hunched over a desk. He is surrounded by rolls of parchment.
'No...this isn't real!' you gasp, pulling against your restraints. 'I was in the forest...the caves...'
The librarian looks up from his work, his pen lifting off the page. 'No. You were experiencing a vision. A possible future.'
Desperately you look around, searching for some clue—some flaw in this dream—to prove that it is not real. But the musty smell of the cell, the bitter cold of the iron manacles, the pain in your aching joints—all of it feels horribly real.
'This is a dream,' you insist through gritted teeth. 'The Lamuri witch. This is her work...'
The man leans forward, his eyes suddenly bright with interest. 'Yes, the witch. The tigris mentioned her. Tell me more. Do you see her now?'
'No!' You pull at your chains, feeling them rub painfully against your bleeding sores.
The librarian settles back, looking disappointed. 'Perhaps some Elysium.'
'No.' Tears fill your eyes, a solid lump forming in your throat. 'Please...this isn't real. I was in the jungle...the Terral Jungle.'
'Good. Good.' There is the scrape of a chair as the librarian gets to his feet. He walks over, untying a leather gourd from his belt. 'This will take you back. Make you see again.'
He lifts up your chin, pouring the thick milky liquid into your mouth. You gulp it down thirstily, your body craving its sustenance—dulling out the pain. 'Yes,' you smile, your eyes fluttering closed. 'I see again...'
You find yourself seated on a rock, overlooking the marsh. The rest of the tigris are resting nearby, talking in hushed tones. Grey-hair and Scowler stand apart from the group, discussing something with serious expressions. Scowler shakes her head, but Grey-hair presses on—evidently trying to convince her of something.
You push yourself to your feet and approach the two tigris. Grey-hair turns as you approach.
'Bright claw, you look troubled.'
You realize you are rubbing at your wrists, which have started to throb with a dull pain. 'It is nothing,' you reply, dropping them to your sides. 'Has a decision been made?'
Scowler snorts and walks away, standing alone to look out over the marsh.
'Yes. The marsh is too dangerous to cross,' sighs Grey-hair. 'I decide Khana stay here until safe. You and scouts go ahead. Once the witch dead, we all come.' He glances over his shoulder, to where Scar-face is hugging the mother and young cub. You guess they must be family and Scar-face has told her the news. When the young tigris turns away, you can see the pain in his eyes.
'This is not to their liking,' you state solemnly.
Grey-hair scratches at his whiskers. 'Pack long feared this place. No one ever return.'
Scar-face walks past in silence, beckoning to Scowler. The female nods, then together they start off into the marsh without another word.
'Look after my cubs,' says Grey-hair, placing a paw on your shoulder. 'May Shonac keep your claws sharp—and eyes sharper.'
As the marsh fog thickens, you feel an increasing sense that you are traveling through some peculiar dreamscape. Everything becomes slow and sluggish, from your own movements as you drag your feet through the mud to those of your companions slinking ahead, their ears pricked as they glance from side to side. You can sense their nervousness. Neither wanted to come here.
You struggle to stay focused, your limbs feeling weak and lethargic. Several times you stumble and fall into the cold, brackish waters—each time, taking a little longer to drag yourself back to your feet. Eventually you find yourself crawling—head bowed—shivering from the wet and the cold. You cannot tell how long you have traveled or how far, but when your hands scrabble over stone, you finally look up.
Before you is a ruined building. It might have been a temple once, a grand structure surrounded by columns and decorative arches. Now it is part of the marsh, crumbling and old—most of its walls dragged down by reed-like vines. A vulture peers at you from one of the broken statues, its collar of white fur standing stark against its black feathers. An ill omen, perhaps.
You manage to stand, swaying with nausea, the grey-stone of the ruin swimming in and out of focus. There is no sign of the others. You sag against a wall, gasping for breath...then your strength gives out and you fall...
'Get up!' a voice hisses in your ear.
In the distance you hear a thunderous boom and the clatter of falling rock. You open your eyes to see Virgil standing over you. The cell door is twisted off its hinges, black roots breaking up out of the cracked stone floor.
'Where...am I?' you croak,. feeling yourself be lifted up.
The witchfinder's face swings into view. 'I told you I was coming back. We're getting out of here.'
You notice three deep gashes cutting across the man's cheek, coating his neck and the collars of his coat in blood. 'This is not what happened...' you gasp, looking around at the Durnhollow cell.
'Because this is real,' growls the witchfinder, slapping your face with a gloved hand. 'You are drugged on Elysium. What you have experienced—what you have seen—it isn't real.'
You push him away, backing up against the wall. 'No, you're lying.' From the passageway you can hear sounds of battle—steel clamoring against steel, and fizzing cracks of magic. 'This is not what happened!' You grip your head, struggling to remember, to reorder your thoughts. 'I was in the marsh. Lost in the marsh...'
Virgil draws a curved blade from his belt. It flickers with a yellow, sickly light. 'I can't leave you here, prophet. Come with me or you die in this cell.'
Will you:
Agree to follow Virgil?
Attack Virgil?
Last edited by Darth Rabbitt on Wed Feb 13, 2019 8:53 pm, edited 2 times in total.
Pseudo Stupidity wrote:This Applebees fucking sucks, much like all Applebees. I wanted to go to Femboy Hooters (communism).
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Omegonthesane
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Agree to follow Virgil, because my instinct is that if we do attack, it'll retroactively be determined that "Virgil" is "actually a Tigris" rather than "actually the Lamuri witch".
Kaelik wrote:Because powerful men get away with terrible shit, and even the public domain ones get ignored, and then, when the floodgates open, it turns out there was a goddam flood behind it.
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Darth Rabbitt
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'Good! Follow me!' The witchfinder drags you with him, through the twisted cell door and out into the passageway. 'The Wiccans will provide all the distraction we need.'
'But where are we going?' you ask, stepping around the rubble that chokes the tight corridor.
'We're getting out of here,' snaps Virgil impatiently. 'Come this way.' He deviates down a side-passage, his magical blade lighting the way through the murky gloom.
There is a cry from up ahead. Two figures are wrestling with each other—then there is a crack of magic as one is blown back, crumpling against the wall. As the dust and smoke start to settle, you get your first glimpse of the two combatants. (Mr. Patio does not have the word Wiccan on his hero sheet.)
Benin is slumped on the ground, his face coated with blood and dust. Standing over him is Murlic, the Wiccan rogue with the half-painted face. He holds two daggers, snarling with rage as he raises them to strike.
Your foot knocks into a broken sword hilt, sending it clattering over the loose rock. Both combatants freeze, looking in your direction.
'My friend!' wheezes Benin, clutching at his wounds. 'Thank the One God—save me!'
The Wiccan rogue scowls, glaring at you with contempt. 'Do not try to stop me, bright claw.'
Will you:
Attack Murlic and save Benin?
Stand by and let Benin die?
'But where are we going?' you ask, stepping around the rubble that chokes the tight corridor.
'We're getting out of here,' snaps Virgil impatiently. 'Come this way.' He deviates down a side-passage, his magical blade lighting the way through the murky gloom.
There is a cry from up ahead. Two figures are wrestling with each other—then there is a crack of magic as one is blown back, crumpling against the wall. As the dust and smoke start to settle, you get your first glimpse of the two combatants. (Mr. Patio does not have the word Wiccan on his hero sheet.)
Benin is slumped on the ground, his face coated with blood and dust. Standing over him is Murlic, the Wiccan rogue with the half-painted face. He holds two daggers, snarling with rage as he raises them to strike.
Your foot knocks into a broken sword hilt, sending it clattering over the loose rock. Both combatants freeze, looking in your direction.
'My friend!' wheezes Benin, clutching at his wounds. 'Thank the One God—save me!'
The Wiccan rogue scowls, glaring at you with contempt. 'Do not try to stop me, bright claw.'
If we had Wiccan on our sheet (which you get by managing to join the Wiccans back in act 1, which is needlessly difficult to do,) Ventus (the monk who freed Cernos when we refused to) would be attacking Murlic instead. Everything else about the situation is the same, though, so it's just a nice bit of attention to detail in this quest.
Attack Murlic and save Benin?
Stand by and let Benin die?
Last edited by Darth Rabbitt on Thu Feb 14, 2019 2:37 am, edited 1 time in total.
Pseudo Stupidity wrote:This Applebees fucking sucks, much like all Applebees. I wanted to go to Femboy Hooters (communism).
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Omegonthesane
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Stand by and let Benin die, because "bright claw" is a glitch in the matrix. And not just because I'm sticking to my policy of doing nothing to affect the show until we manage to see through it.
Kaelik wrote:Because powerful men get away with terrible shit, and even the public domain ones get ignored, and then, when the floodgates open, it turns out there was a goddam flood behind it.
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Darth Rabbitt
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We didn't get to tell the real Benin to fuck off, but we can tell this vision of him to!
You hesitate, not wishing to pick a side in the fight—unsure whether anything you are witnessing is real or part of some elaborate fantasy.
'What are you waiting for?' splutters Benin. 'The Wiccan are our enemy!'
You shake your head. 'No, friend. This is not what it seems...'
'Wise move, growls Murlic, suddenly speaking with a guttural, female voice. 'You are strong, bright claw.'
'No!' Benin shrieks with rage, fists clenching at his side. 'You were supposed to kill her!'
Suddenly your surroundings start to blur, sweeping into ribbons of ochre light. Then you lurch towards, as if pushed by some invisible hand, to find yourself inside a ruined building, its roof open to the misty marshland sky.
Where Murlic had been standing there is now a female tigris. She is panting heavily, looking exhausted. 'The witch,' snarls Scowler. 'We must fight her together!'
'Sweet children,' echoes a woman's voice, soft and seductive. 'Your memories were...most nourishing...' You both spin around, to see a black hooded figure standing in the shadows.
'Who are you?' you demand angrily, squinting in the murky half-light.
The woman pulls back her hood to reveal a hideous, monstrous face. The flesh is white and scaly, like a fish, protruding outwards into a lipless sucker-like mouth. 'I have fed on your minds,' whispers the voice in your head. 'Now I will feed on your flesh!' (Mr. Patio does not have the word scars written on his hero sheet.)
You hear the scuffing of feet on stone. Turning, you see Scar-face standing in a doorway, his fur matted with mud and dust. He nods in greeting. 'We stand together, bright claw.'
The witch lurches towards you, her black robes rustling across the stone. 'Unfortunate you are still alive, tigris, but no matter. Together, you will make a most splendid feast.'
Scar-face and Scowler exchange a silent look—then they both spring forward as one, claws raking the air. You immediately follow their lead and charge into the fray:
Special Abilities
Mental daggers: You must lose 2 health at the end of each combat round.
Delirium: If you take health damage from the succubus' damage score, you are immediately infected with delirium. If you win a combat round, roll a die. If the result is [1] or [2] then your attack misses its mark and you cannot roll for damage. If the result is [3] or more, you can roll for damage as normal.
Revenge of the tigris: Scar-face and Scowler add 4 to your damage score for the duration of this combat.
Thanks to good rolls and our other abilities we still didn't get use out of toxicology. Still nice to have, though.
The succubus is a powerful adversary, blasting you with her dark magics while her mind-numbing powers sap at your strength. Scar-face is the first to fall, his blow missing its mark and leaving him open to the creature's magic. The ensuing bolt of fire spears the tigris as surely as any steel, dropping him to the ground with a mournful cry. Scowler tries to retaliate, bounding off a broken column to strike from the air. But the witch is faster, spinning around and catching the tigris in her pale, scaly hands. She hurls the tigris back against the wall, following up with a blast of magic that sends the broken body smashing through the rock and out across the misty swamp.
Alone, you are forced to defend yourself against the witch's onslaught, giving ground to her powerful magics, then, when all seems lost, you find some hidden reserve of strength—a bitter fury that floods through your body, helping you to shrug off her debilitating spells. The witch senses this change, pausing in her attack.
'Demon blood!' the voice whispers.
Then you fly forward, driving your weapons into her tattered robes. There is a deafening shriek as a black wind pours out of the wound, blowing you backwards. You tumble over onto your stomach, looking up in time to see the creature's mildewed robes flutter to the ground. There is no sign of a body, only a thin maggot-like worm, dragging itself across the stones. You clamber to your feet, marching forward to drive your weapons into its weakened form. There is a piercing, eldritch screech. Then there is silence...
At last, the succubus' power has been broken—and the marsh is now safe for the Shara Khana to cross. However, it feels a hollow victory, knowing that your tigris companions gave their lives to achieve this end.
With the deadly succubus defeated, you may now help yourself to one of the following rewards:
Dreamcatcher (necklace) +1 speed ability: immobilize (sp: This ability reduces the number of dice your opponent can roll for attack speed by 1, for one combat round only. You can only use immobilize once per combat.)
Desolation robes (chest) +2 speed +2 magic ability: siphon (mo: All of your opponent’s [6] results become a [1] when rolling for their damage score.)
Shroud of nightmares (cloak) +1 speed +2 brawn ability: confound (co: Use confound to avoid taking damage from your opponent when they have won a combat round. It also inflicts 1 damage die back to them, ignoring armor, and lowers their brawn and magic score by 1 for the remainder of the combat. Confound can only be used once per combat.)
You trudge back through the marsh, the journey proving easier without the witch's nefarious magic to contend with. At last you rejoin the Khana pack, who are waiting on the rocks outside the cave. Grey-hair moves to meet you, tapping his chest softly three times—the gesture of tigris pride and welcome. No words need to be spoken; your eyes drift to the mother and the young cub, both looking expectant—waiting for Scar-face's return. Grey-hair nods, taking a deep breath.
'We know Khana would pay the price for freedom. Few could have done what you did—to match claws with the witch and defeat her. The Khana owe you a debt of gratitude.' The elderly tigris looks out across the marsh, its steaming mist suffused with a golden light. 'The hunters will not follow us here. We can now cross to the stone claws and find new dens—safe dens—to start Khana anew. I have nothing to give...but this.' The tigris lifts his paw. Resting on it is a circular disc of bone, carved with a magical rune. 'I hope it keeps you safe, bright claw.'
If you wish, you may now take:
You say your farewells to the Shara Khana before heading back through the caves. Return to the quest map to continue your adventure.
Pick a loot from the witch, whether or not we want to take the talisman, and our next destination to proceed.
You hesitate, not wishing to pick a side in the fight—unsure whether anything you are witnessing is real or part of some elaborate fantasy.
'What are you waiting for?' splutters Benin. 'The Wiccan are our enemy!'
You shake your head. 'No, friend. This is not what it seems...'
'Wise move, growls Murlic, suddenly speaking with a guttural, female voice. 'You are strong, bright claw.'
'No!' Benin shrieks with rage, fists clenching at his side. 'You were supposed to kill her!'
Suddenly your surroundings start to blur, sweeping into ribbons of ochre light. Then you lurch towards, as if pushed by some invisible hand, to find yourself inside a ruined building, its roof open to the misty marshland sky.
Where Murlic had been standing there is now a female tigris. She is panting heavily, looking exhausted. 'The witch,' snarls Scowler. 'We must fight her together!'
'Sweet children,' echoes a woman's voice, soft and seductive. 'Your memories were...most nourishing...' You both spin around, to see a black hooded figure standing in the shadows.
'Who are you?' you demand angrily, squinting in the murky half-light.
The woman pulls back her hood to reveal a hideous, monstrous face. The flesh is white and scaly, like a fish, protruding outwards into a lipless sucker-like mouth. 'I have fed on your minds,' whispers the voice in your head. 'Now I will feed on your flesh!' (Mr. Patio does not have the word scars written on his hero sheet.)
Omegon was right about Virgil. He's actually Scar-face, and you get the scars keyword from inadvertently killing him.
The witch lurches towards you, her black robes rustling across the stone. 'Unfortunate you are still alive, tigris, but no matter. Together, you will make a most splendid feast.'
Scar-face and Scowler exchange a silent look—then they both spring forward as one, claws raking the air. You immediately follow their lead and charge into the fray:
| Speed | Magic | Armor | Health | |
| Succubus | 10 | 5 | 9 | 80 |
Special Abilities
Mental daggers: You must lose 2 health at the end of each combat round.
Delirium: If you take health damage from the succubus' damage score, you are immediately infected with delirium. If you win a combat round, roll a die. If the result is [1] or [2] then your attack misses its mark and you cannot roll for damage. If the result is [3] or more, you can roll for damage as normal.
Revenge of the tigris: Scar-face and Scowler add 4 to your damage score for the duration of this combat.
Now toxicology might end up helping us in this fight since the succubus actually has some nasty stats on her, though we still have 1 speed and a bunch of abilities on her so maybe not. Same abilities as the drecko fight.
*Snake strike* 7 damage, Succubus is at 73 and is afflicted with venom.
Round 1: Patio 6+11, Succubus 3+11. Damage 4+11-9+4=10, Succubus is at 63. *DoTs* She's at 59, Patio is at 33.
Round 2: Patio 4+11 (sure grip'd, 9+11), Succubus 7+10. Damage 2+11-9+4=8, Succubus is at 51. *DoTs* She's at 47, Patio is at 31.
Round 3: Patio 5+11, Succubus 6+10. Tie. *DoTs* She's at 43, Patio is at 29.
Round 4: Patio 10+11 (demon claws'd, Succubus is at 39), Succubus 12+10 (Deceive'd, Patio 11+11, Succubus 11+10.) Damage 3+11-9+4=9, Succubus is at 30. *DoTs* She's at 26, Patio is at 27.
Round 5: Patio 4+11 (demon claws'd, Succubus is at 22), Succubus 3+10. Damage 3+11-9+4=9, Succubus is at 13. *DoTs* She's at 9, Patio is at 25.
Round 6: Patio 9+11, Succubus 7+10. Damage 4+11-9+4=10, Succubus is dead!
*Snake strike* 7 damage, Succubus is at 73 and is afflicted with venom.
Round 1: Patio 6+11, Succubus 3+11. Damage 4+11-9+4=10, Succubus is at 63. *DoTs* She's at 59, Patio is at 33.
Round 2: Patio 4+11 (sure grip'd, 9+11), Succubus 7+10. Damage 2+11-9+4=8, Succubus is at 51. *DoTs* She's at 47, Patio is at 31.
Round 3: Patio 5+11, Succubus 6+10. Tie. *DoTs* She's at 43, Patio is at 29.
Round 4: Patio 10+11 (demon claws'd, Succubus is at 39), Succubus 12+10 (Deceive'd, Patio 11+11, Succubus 11+10.) Damage 3+11-9+4=9, Succubus is at 30. *DoTs* She's at 26, Patio is at 27.
Round 5: Patio 4+11 (demon claws'd, Succubus is at 22), Succubus 3+10. Damage 3+11-9+4=9, Succubus is at 13. *DoTs* She's at 9, Patio is at 25.
Round 6: Patio 9+11, Succubus 7+10. Damage 4+11-9+4=10, Succubus is dead!
The succubus is a powerful adversary, blasting you with her dark magics while her mind-numbing powers sap at your strength. Scar-face is the first to fall, his blow missing its mark and leaving him open to the creature's magic. The ensuing bolt of fire spears the tigris as surely as any steel, dropping him to the ground with a mournful cry. Scowler tries to retaliate, bounding off a broken column to strike from the air. But the witch is faster, spinning around and catching the tigris in her pale, scaly hands. She hurls the tigris back against the wall, following up with a blast of magic that sends the broken body smashing through the rock and out across the misty swamp.
Alone, you are forced to defend yourself against the witch's onslaught, giving ground to her powerful magics, then, when all seems lost, you find some hidden reserve of strength—a bitter fury that floods through your body, helping you to shrug off her debilitating spells. The witch senses this change, pausing in her attack.
'Demon blood!' the voice whispers.
Then you fly forward, driving your weapons into her tattered robes. There is a deafening shriek as a black wind pours out of the wound, blowing you backwards. You tumble over onto your stomach, looking up in time to see the creature's mildewed robes flutter to the ground. There is no sign of a body, only a thin maggot-like worm, dragging itself across the stones. You clamber to your feet, marching forward to drive your weapons into its weakened form. There is a piercing, eldritch screech. Then there is silence...
At last, the succubus' power has been broken—and the marsh is now safe for the Shara Khana to cross. However, it feels a hollow victory, knowing that your tigris companions gave their lives to achieve this end.
With the deadly succubus defeated, you may now help yourself to one of the following rewards:
Dreamcatcher (necklace) +1 speed ability: immobilize (sp: This ability reduces the number of dice your opponent can roll for attack speed by 1, for one combat round only. You can only use immobilize once per combat.)
Desolation robes (chest) +2 speed +2 magic ability: siphon (mo: All of your opponent’s [6] results become a [1] when rolling for their damage score.)
Shroud of nightmares (cloak) +1 speed +2 brawn ability: confound (co: Use confound to avoid taking damage from your opponent when they have won a combat round. It also inflicts 1 damage die back to them, ignoring armor, and lowers their brawn and magic score by 1 for the remainder of the combat. Confound can only be used once per combat.)
You trudge back through the marsh, the journey proving easier without the witch's nefarious magic to contend with. At last you rejoin the Khana pack, who are waiting on the rocks outside the cave. Grey-hair moves to meet you, tapping his chest softly three times—the gesture of tigris pride and welcome. No words need to be spoken; your eyes drift to the mother and the young cub, both looking expectant—waiting for Scar-face's return. Grey-hair nods, taking a deep breath.
'We know Khana would pay the price for freedom. Few could have done what you did—to match claws with the witch and defeat her. The Khana owe you a debt of gratitude.' The elderly tigris looks out across the marsh, its steaming mist suffused with a golden light. 'The hunters will not follow us here. We can now cross to the stone claws and find new dens—safe dens—to start Khana anew. I have nothing to give...but this.' The tigris lifts his paw. Resting on it is a circular disc of bone, carved with a magical rune. 'I hope it keeps you safe, bright claw.'
If you wish, you may now take:
Khana's pride
(talisman)
+1 speed +1 armor
ability: sideswipe (co: When your opponent’s damage score causes health damage, you can immediately retaliate by inflicting 1 damage dice back to them, ignoring armor. You can only use sideswipe once per combat.)
(talisman)
+1 speed +1 armor
ability: sideswipe (co: When your opponent’s damage score causes health damage, you can immediately retaliate by inflicting 1 damage dice back to them, ignoring armor. You can only use sideswipe once per combat.)
You say your farewells to the Shara Khana before heading back through the caves. Return to the quest map to continue your adventure.
Pick a loot from the witch, whether or not we want to take the talisman, and our next destination to proceed.
Pseudo Stupidity wrote:This Applebees fucking sucks, much like all Applebees. I wanted to go to Femboy Hooters (communism).
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Omegonthesane
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Robes would be for a magic build so nah; half a vote for Dreamcatcher, because speed is the best stat ever; donate the talisman to a passing albatross, we're not dropping Venomancer.
Then monkey temple challenge.
Then monkey temple challenge.
Kaelik wrote:Because powerful men get away with terrible shit, and even the public domain ones get ignored, and then, when the floodgates open, it turns out there was a goddam flood behind it.
Zak S, Zak Smith, Dndwithpornstars, Zak Sabbath, Justin Bieber, shitmuffin
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Darth Rabbitt
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Whiysper wrote:What does Faith do?
The monkey temple challenge will come after I get back from work.Abilities Glossary wrote:Faith (pa): Each time you roll a double, you automatically heal 2 health. This ability cannot take you above your starting health.
Pseudo Stupidity wrote:This Applebees fucking sucks, much like all Applebees. I wanted to go to Femboy Hooters (communism).
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Darth Rabbitt
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Intrigued by this strange temple, you make the decision to fight your way to its summit. However, you have barely placed a foot on its lowest step before another jagged stone comes hurtling through the air, staggering you as it cuts across your chest. It is closely followed by a veritable hailstorm of missiles as the squirrel monkeys pelt you with whatever debris comes to hand. You cower beneath the onslaught, forced to rely on your armor to soak up the bludgeoning bits.
As you stumble onwards, determined to reach the summit, the black-faced monkeys spring forward to bar your way. Several are clutching fan-shaped leaves which appear to have been stiffened by some type of resin, turning them into sharp knives. Their leader, scarred and battle-worn, throws up his arms, baring his teeth in a fanged snarl. You sense this is a signal of some kind—as there is a sudden halt in the stone rain as the squirrel monkeys scamper higher up the stairs. Then, with a blood-chilling howl, the langurs press their attack, their leaf daggers cutting ribbons from the mist. It is time to fight:
Special abilities
Leaf blades: The langur's attacks cause piercing damage, ignoring your armor.
Angry mob: Take a speed challenge at the end of each round. If you get 16 or less then your hero is hit by the squirrel monkeys' stones, taking 5 damage, ignoring armor. If you get 17 or more then you have avoided the stones. If the squirrel monkeys are defeated this ability no longer applies.
In this combat you roll against the langurs' speed. If you win a combat round, you can choose to apply your damage to the langurs or the squirrel monkeys. If you defeat the langurs, any remaining squirrel monkeys will automatically flee, winning you the combat.
(NOTE: You cannot heal after this combat. You must continue this challenge with the health that you have remaining. You may use potions and abilities to heal lost health while you are in combat.)
We didn't get hit, so that warning need not apply for now.
You have no idea how long the battle has raged, but when the attacks finally stop coming you see that the ground is now littered with bodies. The few remaining squirrel monkeys rush for cover, wailing and howling like mourners at a funeral. Their cries bring fresh enemies to the stairs, seeking to halt your ascent of the monkey temple.
Three monkeys step out from an alcove further up the stairs. They are tall and grey-haired, with a stoop to their scrawny shoulders. Their pale faces seem almost human, with grey whiskers trailing around their mouths and deep set eyes glinting beneath a low brow. As you advance they raise their blackened fingers and begin hooting in a strange language. Suddenly blue lightning crackles across their hands, spreading up their arms and coating their furred bodies in a mesh of light. Magic, you realize in surprise. One of the trio swings its glowing fists, sending bolts of lightning streaking through the air. You duck beneath the attack, feeling scorching heat rake across your back. Then you surge forward, taking the stairs two at a time as you look to close the distance with these three deadly mages. It is time to fight:
Special abilities
Shock lightning: Each time your damage score/damage dice causes health damage to the macaques, you immediately take 1 damage in return for each point of armor you are wearing.
(We get the same warning about healing that we did on the previous fight.)
So we actually got zapped a few times here, although we're still in pretty good shape.
With your foes defeated, you continue up the last stretch of stairs up to the temple's summit. There, set underneath a small pagoda, is a sparkling throne of gold—and slouched across it is a black-haired monkey with a circlet of precious gems resting on his brow.
Standing either side of the throne are two guards, their long snouts striped with white and red bands. They glance at their leader, who nods with an imperious boredom—flicking his fingers at you as if warding away a fly. The two guards respond instantly, springing forward at an incredible speed. It is time to fight:
Special abilities
Feral frenzy: At the end of every combat round, the mandrills raise their speed by 1 (up to a maximum of 14).
(And again the same warning.)
6 rounds was a pretty big overestimation. Those guys were basically a free heal for Patio.
As the last mandrill hits the floor the monkey king leaps straight out of his seat, alighting on the back of his throne. Raising his fist in the air, he mutters some arcane gibberish—and suddenly a long red staff appears in his hand, its gold end-pieces crackling with magic. You charge forward, your weapons sweeping down to smash through the staff—but the monkey somersaults away, your blows ringing harmlessly against the gold throne.
Twisting around you see the monkey is now whirling the magic staff above his head, creating a tornado of swirling light. It quickly surrounds him in a bright halo, his body becoming a dark shadow that starts to expand—growing larger and larger.
When the staff stops and the tornado subsides, you find yourself facing a giant monkey—now grown to ten times his normal size. As you back away, trying to comprehend this sudden change of events, you see the monkey make a peculiar gesture, pinching the side of his chest. Then you realize that he is actually pulling tufts of hair loose and scattering them across the stones. Wherever the hairs land there is a flash of magic—and a small monkey rises up out of the ground, long-limbed and black like a spider. Within seconds you are surrounded by a dozen of the spindly creatures, which immediately leap straight at you, snapping and biting. You struggle to bat them away, their combined weight threatening to drag you to the floor. But these spider-monkeys are merely a distraction. Through the chaos of grappling bodies, you glimpse the giant monkey stomping towards you, his staff raised to strike. It is time to fight:
Special abilities
Clinging claws: The spider monkeys are clinging onto you in order to slow you down. You must reduce your speed by 1 for the duration of this combat. If the spider monkeys are defeated this ability no longer applies.
Monkey magic: The king's power comes from his staff. Once he is reduced to zero health the combat is not over—the king is merely weakened, and he must be disarmed. From now on, when you win a combat round, roll a die. If the result is 3 or more, you have disarmed him—winning you the combat. Otherwise, your attempt failed and you must win another combat round to try again. Hanuman can still attack as normal if you lose a round.
In this combat you roll against Hanuman's speed. If you win a combat round, you can choose to apply your damage to Hanuman or the spider monkeys. If you manage to disarm Hanuman (see monkey magic), the spider monkeys are also automatically defeated.
Only guys to touch us were the macaques, and only then by their auto-damage ability.
A lucky blow sends the staff spinning away across the stone tiles. As the monkey starts to shrink back to his normal size you deliver a firm kick to his chest, sending him flying over the edge of the platform. His shriek of rage only lasts for a short time before a loud crunch puts paid to the king's rule.
Congratulations! You have battled your way to the top of the temple and emerged victorious. You may now choose one of the following special rewards:
Wishing staff (main hand: staff) +2 speed +3 magic ability: wish master (sp: You can cast this spell at the start of a combat round to grow into a giant. Your speed is lowered by 1 but your magic and armor are increased by 2 for the remainder of the combat. Wish master can only be used once per combat.)
Hanuman's hair (necklace) +1 speed +2 health ability: monkey mob (co: Instead of rolling for a damage score, you can summon a monkey mob to pelt a single opponent with stones. The mob cause 2 damage at the end of each combat round, ignoring armor, for the duration of the combat. This ability can only be used once per combat.)
Crown of Gandhara (head) +1 speed +2 brawn ability: command (co: When an opponent wins a combat round, use command to instantly halt their attack, allowing you to roll for damage instead (as if you had won the combat round). This ability can only be used once per combat.)
You also discover a small chest behind the throne, containing 200 gold crowns. As you prepare to leave you spot an unusual device to the south of the platform: a circular pedestal, with two golden hands set into its top stone. They are slightly cupped, facing inwards, as if they should be holding something. (Mr. Patio has the golden mirror.)
The golden mirror rests perfectly between the two hands. The moment it clicks into place the sun's light hits the reflective disc, sending a golden beam streaking southwards through the cloudy mist. You cannot guess what purpose this device serves—perhaps some kind of signaling device. If you decide to leave the golden mirror in place, make a note of the keyword sun seeker. Otherwise, you may remove the mirror and take it with you again.
(Mr. Patio has the word explorer on his hero sheet.)
Most of your surroundings are obscured by cloud, but to the north you are afforded a breath-taking view of the forest. You take out the scholar's parchment and hastily add to the map, noting the rotten marsh to your left and the ruins stretching over the hills to your right. Make a note of the key words north view on your hero sheet. (Mr. Patio has already completed the dark interior quest.) Return to the quest map.
Pick a loot, a destination, and whether or not we want to leave the mirror on the temple.
As you stumble onwards, determined to reach the summit, the black-faced monkeys spring forward to bar your way. Several are clutching fan-shaped leaves which appear to have been stiffened by some type of resin, turning them into sharp knives. Their leader, scarred and battle-worn, throws up his arms, baring his teeth in a fanged snarl. You sense this is a signal of some kind—as there is a sudden halt in the stone rain as the squirrel monkeys scamper higher up the stairs. Then, with a blood-chilling howl, the langurs press their attack, their leaf daggers cutting ribbons from the mist. It is time to fight:
| Speed | Brawn | Armor | Health | |
| Langurs | 10 | 4 | 6 | 40 |
| Squirrels | - | - | 2 | 30 |
Special abilities
Leaf blades: The langur's attacks cause piercing damage, ignoring your armor.
Angry mob: Take a speed challenge at the end of each round. If you get 16 or less then your hero is hit by the squirrel monkeys' stones, taking 5 damage, ignoring armor. If you get 17 or more then you have avoided the stones. If the squirrel monkeys are defeated this ability no longer applies.
In this combat you roll against the langurs' speed. If you win a combat round, you can choose to apply your damage to the langurs or the squirrel monkeys. If you defeat the langurs, any remaining squirrel monkeys will automatically flee, winning you the combat.
(NOTE: You cannot heal after this combat. You must continue this challenge with the health that you have remaining. You may use potions and abilities to heal lost health while you are in combat.)
Not too scary. Going to just focus on the langurs since we only fail that speed test on a 4 or lower. Taking Snake Strike, Venom, Fire Aura, Thorns, Demon Claws, Deceive, Prophecy, and Sure Grip.
*Snake Strike* Langurs take 10 damage and are afflicted with venom. They're at 30.
Round 1: Patio 7+12, Langurs 4+10. Attacking the langurs. Damage 2+10-6=6, Langurs are at 34. *DoTs* They're at 30, squirrels are at 18. *Angry Mob* 8+12=20, success, no damage taken.
Round 2: Patio 12+12 (demon claws'd, Langurs are at 26) Langurs 7+10. Damage 6+10-6=10, Langurs are at 16. *DoTs* They're at 12, squirrels are at 16. *Angry Mob* 7+12=19, success, no damage taken.
Round 3: Patio 10+12, Langurs 6+10. Damage 5+10-6=9, langurs are at 3. *DoTs* They're dead!
*Snake Strike* Langurs take 10 damage and are afflicted with venom. They're at 30.
Round 1: Patio 7+12, Langurs 4+10. Attacking the langurs. Damage 2+10-6=6, Langurs are at 34. *DoTs* They're at 30, squirrels are at 18. *Angry Mob* 8+12=20, success, no damage taken.
Round 2: Patio 12+12 (demon claws'd, Langurs are at 26) Langurs 7+10. Damage 6+10-6=10, Langurs are at 16. *DoTs* They're at 12, squirrels are at 16. *Angry Mob* 7+12=19, success, no damage taken.
Round 3: Patio 10+12, Langurs 6+10. Damage 5+10-6=9, langurs are at 3. *DoTs* They're dead!
You have no idea how long the battle has raged, but when the attacks finally stop coming you see that the ground is now littered with bodies. The few remaining squirrel monkeys rush for cover, wailing and howling like mourners at a funeral. Their cries bring fresh enemies to the stairs, seeking to halt your ascent of the monkey temple.
Three monkeys step out from an alcove further up the stairs. They are tall and grey-haired, with a stoop to their scrawny shoulders. Their pale faces seem almost human, with grey whiskers trailing around their mouths and deep set eyes glinting beneath a low brow. As you advance they raise their blackened fingers and begin hooting in a strange language. Suddenly blue lightning crackles across their hands, spreading up their arms and coating their furred bodies in a mesh of light. Magic, you realize in surprise. One of the trio swings its glowing fists, sending bolts of lightning streaking through the air. You duck beneath the attack, feeling scorching heat rake across your back. Then you surge forward, taking the stairs two at a time as you look to close the distance with these three deadly mages. It is time to fight:
| Speed | Magic | Armor | Health | |
| Macaques | 10 | 6 | 4 | 40 |
Special abilities
Shock lightning: Each time your damage score/damage dice causes health damage to the macaques, you immediately take 1 damage in return for each point of armor you are wearing.
(We get the same warning about healing that we did on the previous fight.)
I'm not sure if the lightning applies to snake strike, but I'll rule that it doesn't since it's a special attack. Same abilities as last time.
*Snake Strike* Macaques take 7 damage and are afflicted with venom. They're at 33.
Round 1: Patio 11+12, Macaques 3+10. Damage 6+10-4=12, Macaques are at 21. *Shock* Patio is at 33. *DoTs* They're at 17.
Round 2: Patio 5+12, Macaques 5+10. Damage 6+10-4=12, Macaques are at 9. *Shock* Patio is at 31. *DoTs* They're at 5.
Round 3: Patio 5+12, Macaques 10+10 (deceive'd, Patio 9+12, Macaques 6+10). Damage 1+10-4=7, Macaques are dead! *Shock* Patio is at 29.
*Snake Strike* Macaques take 7 damage and are afflicted with venom. They're at 33.
Round 1: Patio 11+12, Macaques 3+10. Damage 6+10-4=12, Macaques are at 21. *Shock* Patio is at 33. *DoTs* They're at 17.
Round 2: Patio 5+12, Macaques 5+10. Damage 6+10-4=12, Macaques are at 9. *Shock* Patio is at 31. *DoTs* They're at 5.
Round 3: Patio 5+12, Macaques 10+10 (deceive'd, Patio 9+12, Macaques 6+10). Damage 1+10-4=7, Macaques are dead! *Shock* Patio is at 29.
With your foes defeated, you continue up the last stretch of stairs up to the temple's summit. There, set underneath a small pagoda, is a sparkling throne of gold—and slouched across it is a black-haired monkey with a circlet of precious gems resting on his brow.
Standing either side of the throne are two guards, their long snouts striped with white and red bands. They glance at their leader, who nods with an imperious boredom—flicking his fingers at you as if warding away a fly. The two guards respond instantly, springing forward at an incredible speed. It is time to fight:
| Speed | Brawn | Armor | Health | |
| Mandrills | 9 | 6 | 8 | 50 |
Special abilities
Feral frenzy: At the end of every combat round, the mandrills raise their speed by 1 (up to a maximum of 14).
(And again the same warning.)
OK, now we're talking, though I still don't see these guys lasting more than 6 rounds if they're lucky. Same abilities as before, but swapping out prophecy with vampirism for the healing.
*Snake Strike* Mandrills take 8 damage and are afflicted with venom. They're at 42.
Round 1: Patio 8+12, Mandrills 3+9. Damage 2+10-8=4, Mandrills are at 38. *DoTs* They're at 34. *Frenzy* Their speed is at 10.
Round 2: Patio 4+12 (demon claws'd, Mandrills are at 30), Mandrills 9+10 (deceive'd, Patio 7+12, Mandrills 6+10). Damage 5+10-8=7, Mandrills are at 23 (vampirism'd, Patio heals 4 health and is at 33). *DoTs* Mandrills are at 19. *Frenzy* Their speed is at 11.
Round 3: Patio 7+12, Mandrills 7+11. Damage 3+10-8=7, Mandrills are at 12. *DoTs* They're at 8. *Frenzy* Their speed is at 12.
Round 4: Patio 6+12 (sure grip'd, 11+12), Mandrills 10+12. Damage 4+10-8=6, They're at 2. *DoTS* They're dead.
*Snake Strike* Mandrills take 8 damage and are afflicted with venom. They're at 42.
Round 1: Patio 8+12, Mandrills 3+9. Damage 2+10-8=4, Mandrills are at 38. *DoTs* They're at 34. *Frenzy* Their speed is at 10.
Round 2: Patio 4+12 (demon claws'd, Mandrills are at 30), Mandrills 9+10 (deceive'd, Patio 7+12, Mandrills 6+10). Damage 5+10-8=7, Mandrills are at 23 (vampirism'd, Patio heals 4 health and is at 33). *DoTs* Mandrills are at 19. *Frenzy* Their speed is at 11.
Round 3: Patio 7+12, Mandrills 7+11. Damage 3+10-8=7, Mandrills are at 12. *DoTs* They're at 8. *Frenzy* Their speed is at 12.
Round 4: Patio 6+12 (sure grip'd, 11+12), Mandrills 10+12. Damage 4+10-8=6, They're at 2. *DoTS* They're dead.
As the last mandrill hits the floor the monkey king leaps straight out of his seat, alighting on the back of his throne. Raising his fist in the air, he mutters some arcane gibberish—and suddenly a long red staff appears in his hand, its gold end-pieces crackling with magic. You charge forward, your weapons sweeping down to smash through the staff—but the monkey somersaults away, your blows ringing harmlessly against the gold throne.
Twisting around you see the monkey is now whirling the magic staff above his head, creating a tornado of swirling light. It quickly surrounds him in a bright halo, his body becoming a dark shadow that starts to expand—growing larger and larger.
When the staff stops and the tornado subsides, you find yourself facing a giant monkey—now grown to ten times his normal size. As you back away, trying to comprehend this sudden change of events, you see the monkey make a peculiar gesture, pinching the side of his chest. Then you realize that he is actually pulling tufts of hair loose and scattering them across the stones. Wherever the hairs land there is a flash of magic—and a small monkey rises up out of the ground, long-limbed and black like a spider. Within seconds you are surrounded by a dozen of the spindly creatures, which immediately leap straight at you, snapping and biting. You struggle to bat them away, their combined weight threatening to drag you to the floor. But these spider-monkeys are merely a distraction. Through the chaos of grappling bodies, you glimpse the giant monkey stomping towards you, his staff raised to strike. It is time to fight:
| Speed | Brawn | Armor | Health | |
| Hanuman | 10 | 6 | 4 | 50(*) |
| Spider monkeys | - | - | 2 | 18 |
Special abilities
Clinging claws: The spider monkeys are clinging onto you in order to slow you down. You must reduce your speed by 1 for the duration of this combat. If the spider monkeys are defeated this ability no longer applies.
Monkey magic: The king's power comes from his staff. Once he is reduced to zero health the combat is not over—the king is merely weakened, and he must be disarmed. From now on, when you win a combat round, roll a die. If the result is 3 or more, you have disarmed him—winning you the combat. Otherwise, your attempt failed and you must win another combat round to try again. Hanuman can still attack as normal if you lose a round.
In this combat you roll against Hanuman's speed. If you win a combat round, you can choose to apply your damage to Hanuman or the spider monkeys. If you manage to disarm Hanuman (see monkey magic), the spider monkeys are also automatically defeated.
This guy is probably less scary than his bodyguards. Which is presumably why he had them. Same abilities as the first two monkey fights.
*Snake Strike* Hanuman takes 7 damage and is afflicted with venom. He's at 43.
Round 1: Patio 3+12-1 (sure grip'd, 8+12-1), Hanuman 6+10. Attacking spider monkeys. Damage 4+10-2=12, spider monkeys are at 6. *DoTs* They're at 2, Hanuman is at 39.
Round 2: Patio 7+12-1 (sure grip'd, 12+12-1, demon claws'd, Hanuman is at 35), Hanuman 6+10. Damage 3+10-4=9, Hanuman is at 26. *DoTs* He's at 22, Spider monkeys are dead.
Round 3: Patio 9+12, Hanuman 6+10. Damage 1+10-4=7, Hanuman is at 15. *DoTs* He's at 11.
Round 4: Patio 10+12, Hanuman 8+10. Damage 4+10-4=10, Hanuman is at 1. *DoTs* He's at zero.
Round 5: Patio 7+12, Hanuman 9+10 (deceived'd, Patio 9+12, Hanuman 7+10.) Die roll: 1, Hanuman keeps the staff.
Round 6: Patio 6+12 (sure grip'd, 11+12), Hanuman 8+10. Die roll: 4, Hanuman is disarmed! Patio wins the battle.
*Snake Strike* Hanuman takes 7 damage and is afflicted with venom. He's at 43.
Round 1: Patio 3+12-1 (sure grip'd, 8+12-1), Hanuman 6+10. Attacking spider monkeys. Damage 4+10-2=12, spider monkeys are at 6. *DoTs* They're at 2, Hanuman is at 39.
Round 2: Patio 7+12-1 (sure grip'd, 12+12-1, demon claws'd, Hanuman is at 35), Hanuman 6+10. Damage 3+10-4=9, Hanuman is at 26. *DoTs* He's at 22, Spider monkeys are dead.
Round 3: Patio 9+12, Hanuman 6+10. Damage 1+10-4=7, Hanuman is at 15. *DoTs* He's at 11.
Round 4: Patio 10+12, Hanuman 8+10. Damage 4+10-4=10, Hanuman is at 1. *DoTs* He's at zero.
Round 5: Patio 7+12, Hanuman 9+10 (deceived'd, Patio 9+12, Hanuman 7+10.) Die roll: 1, Hanuman keeps the staff.
Round 6: Patio 6+12 (sure grip'd, 11+12), Hanuman 8+10. Die roll: 4, Hanuman is disarmed! Patio wins the battle.
A lucky blow sends the staff spinning away across the stone tiles. As the monkey starts to shrink back to his normal size you deliver a firm kick to his chest, sending him flying over the edge of the platform. His shriek of rage only lasts for a short time before a loud crunch puts paid to the king's rule.
Congratulations! You have battled your way to the top of the temple and emerged victorious. You may now choose one of the following special rewards:
Wishing staff (main hand: staff) +2 speed +3 magic ability: wish master (sp: You can cast this spell at the start of a combat round to grow into a giant. Your speed is lowered by 1 but your magic and armor are increased by 2 for the remainder of the combat. Wish master can only be used once per combat.)
Hanuman's hair (necklace) +1 speed +2 health ability: monkey mob (co: Instead of rolling for a damage score, you can summon a monkey mob to pelt a single opponent with stones. The mob cause 2 damage at the end of each combat round, ignoring armor, for the duration of the combat. This ability can only be used once per combat.)
Crown of Gandhara (head) +1 speed +2 brawn ability: command (co: When an opponent wins a combat round, use command to instantly halt their attack, allowing you to roll for damage instead (as if you had won the combat round). This ability can only be used once per combat.)
You also discover a small chest behind the throne, containing 200 gold crowns. As you prepare to leave you spot an unusual device to the south of the platform: a circular pedestal, with two golden hands set into its top stone. They are slightly cupped, facing inwards, as if they should be holding something. (Mr. Patio has the golden mirror.)
The golden mirror rests perfectly between the two hands. The moment it clicks into place the sun's light hits the reflective disc, sending a golden beam streaking southwards through the cloudy mist. You cannot guess what purpose this device serves—perhaps some kind of signaling device. If you decide to leave the golden mirror in place, make a note of the keyword sun seeker. Otherwise, you may remove the mirror and take it with you again.
(Mr. Patio has the word explorer on his hero sheet.)
Most of your surroundings are obscured by cloud, but to the north you are afforded a breath-taking view of the forest. You take out the scholar's parchment and hastily add to the map, noting the rotten marsh to your left and the ruins stretching over the hills to your right. Make a note of the key words north view on your hero sheet. (Mr. Patio has already completed the dark interior quest.) Return to the quest map.
Pick a loot, a destination, and whether or not we want to leave the mirror on the temple.
Name: Mr. Patio
Path: Rogue
Career: Venommancer
Speed: +12, Brawn: +10, Magic: +2, Armor: +2
Health: 35
Prophecy
Demon claws
prevail
blood debt
tower
explorer
hexed
restless
south view
north view
Frobisher's map
Ghiera's paw
Kaala's fang
Anansi's eye
spirit of the panther
spirit of the serpent
spirit of the spider
Book quest (reward at 471 when we have all 3 books)
Money Pouch: 611 Crowns
Path: Rogue
Career: Venommancer
Speed: +12, Brawn: +10, Magic: +2, Armor: +2
Health: 35
| Slot | Item | Speed | Brawn | Magic | Armor | Ability |
| Head | Garland of Sacrifice | +1 | +2 | Atonement | ||
| Necklace | Dreamcatcher | +1 | Immobilize | |||
| Cloak | Conch Shoulders | +1 | +1 | Time Shift | ||
| Main Hand | Glaive of Souls | +2 | +2 | +2 | Vampirism | |
| Left Hand | Monarch Viper | +2 | +2 | Venom | ||
| Gloves | Spider Grips | +1 | +2 | Sure Grip | ||
| Chest | Snake-Skin Coat | +2 | +2 | Deceive | ||
| Feet | Sailor's Sandals | +1 | Surefooted | |||
| Talisman | Kaala's Scale | +1 | Venommancer | |||
| Ring 1 | Pins 'N' Needles | Thorns | ||||
| Ring 2 | Grieving Soul | +1 | Fire Aura |
| Backpack | Item |
| 1 | Golden Mirror |
| 2 | Elixir of Invisibility |
| 3 | Book of Omega |
| 4 | Saint's Blessing |
| 5 | Rubrica's Cube |
| Locker | Item |
| 1 | Gator Aid |
| 2 | Hair of the Wolf |
| 3 | Holy Water (2 uses) |
| 4 | Untamed Will |
Prophecy
Demon claws
prevail
blood debt
tower
explorer
hexed
restless
south view
north view
Frobisher's map
Ghiera's paw
Kaala's fang
Anansi's eye
spirit of the panther
spirit of the serpent
spirit of the spider
Book quest (reward at 471 when we have all 3 books)
Money Pouch: 611 Crowns
Pseudo Stupidity wrote:This Applebees fucking sucks, much like all Applebees. I wanted to go to Femboy Hooters (communism).