Difference between revisions of "Some Beings Just Want to Watch the Wurms Burn - RPLOG"

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The bear hurries to the cart and returns a moment later with four torches, which he passes out to the Freeswords.  
 
The bear hurries to the cart and returns a moment later with four torches, which he passes out to the Freeswords.  
  
&quot;Satisfied?&quot; Amar asks lazily, &quot;Good, good. Now, I will need at least three eggs. Fresher is better. Can&#39;t have them hatching before I sell them, now can we? And as much webbing as you can carry. Do be careful,&quot; he says in longsuffering tones, &quot;I understand that the webs can be flammable. Now, off you go.&quot;<br> <br>Kastovin nods to Mal and Galve. &quot;Well, I think we are set! You guys are ready, yeah?&quot; He says, pulling out his staff from his bag, letting it tap on the ground. He makes his way over to the mouth of the cave, waving to Amar. He waits for it to be quiet before he tries listening in the cave before stepping into it. &quot;I wonder...&quot; He whispers to Galve and Mal, &quot;Just how deep these wurms are.&quot;<br> <br>Galve takes the torch from Gavin and nods. &quot;Alright Mr Widestripe, I think we get the picture. Ready to go, you two?&quot; He asks, producing a means to light his torch from a belt pouch as he followed the others over to the cave. &quot;Well, someone has to go first.&quot;<br> <br>&quot;...Torches and flammable webbing. Sounds like a perfect combination,&quot; he says, accepting one of the torches. &quot;Three eggs, as fresh as possible, and as much webbing as we can get. We&#39;ll see what we can do,&quot; he says, trudging along after the other two. The Coyote raises an eyebrow at Kastovin. &quot;Whatcha mean, how deep?&quot; he asks, stepping into the tunnel. &quot;Like, big? Or wide? Or how far down they live?&quot; he continues, lighting his own torch and hold it aloft.<br> <br>The tunnel is wide and the sides and floor are surprisingly smooth, though the whole place gleams in the light of the torches with an unpleasant dampness. The tunnel is also strangely humid, especially this close to Drytongue. There are no particularly distinguishing features of the low cavern, aside from its lack of distinguishing features. The noontime sunlight outside filters pretty deep here.<br> <br>Kastovin makes his way into the cave, still saying in a hushed tone &quot;How far in the cave these wurms are, Mal. We don&#39;t want to be surpised by some angry wurms. We are in their home now, so step lightly...&quot; He says, stepping on a stray twig. His own light grows brighter and brighter, to the level of a small lantern because all that&#39;s showing are the marking on his head.<br> <br>Galve holds his own torch, looking around as the group traveled into the tunnels. He kept his other hand on the pommel of his sword. He was running through a checklist of his personal equipment, making sure he knew where everything was and where to get it. Helped with the sense of mild claustrophobia he was starting to feel. Not terrible, but when you&#39;re used to more open spaces it happens.<br> <br>&quot;Oh, yeah. That too,&quot; the Coyote replies, scratching at his chin as he looks around. &quot;If we&#39;re lucky, they&#39;re out at the moment,&quot; he adds, grinning as he continues down the tunnel. &quot;Wouldn&#39;t that be swell? Just in and out, easy money...&quot;
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&quot;Satisfied?&quot; Amar asks lazily, &quot;Good, good. Now, I will need at least three eggs. Fresher is better. Can&#39;t have them hatching before I sell them, now can we? And as much webbing as you can carry. Do be careful,&quot; he says in longsuffering tones, &quot;I understand that the webs can be flammable. Now, off you go.&quot;<br> <br>Kastovin nods to Mal and Galve. &quot;Well, I think we are set! You guys are ready, yeah?&quot; He says, pulling out his staff from his bag, letting it tap on the ground. He makes his way over to the mouth of the cave, waving to Amar. He waits for it to be quiet before he tries listening in the cave before stepping into it. &quot;I wonder...&quot; He whispers to Galve and Mal, &quot;Just how deep these wurms are.&quot;<br> <br>Galve takes the torch from Gavin and nods. &quot;Alright Mr Widestripe, I think we get the picture. Ready to go, you two?&quot; He asks, producing a means to light his torch from a belt pouch as he followed the others over to the cave. &quot;Well, someone has to go first.&quot;<br> <br>&quot;...Torches and flammable webbing. Sounds like a perfect combination,&quot; he says, accepting one of the torches. &quot;Three eggs, as fresh as possible, and as much webbing as we can get. We&#39;ll see what we can do,&quot; he says, trudging along after the other two. The Coyote raises an eyebrow at Kastovin. &quot;Whatcha mean, how deep?&quot; he asks, stepping into the tunnel. &quot;Like, big? Or wide? Or how far down they live?&quot; he continues, lighting his own torch and hold it aloft.<br> <br>The tunnel is wide and the sides and floor are surprisingly smooth, though the whole place gleams in the light of the torches with an unpleasant dampness. The tunnel is also strangely humid, especially this close to Drytongue. There are no particularly distinguishing features of the low cavern, aside from its lack of distinguishing features. The noontime sunlight outside filters pretty deep here.<br> <br>Kastovin makes his way into the cave, still saying in a hushed tone &quot;How far in the cave these wurms are, Mal. We don&#39;t want to be surpised by some angry wurms. We are in their home now, so step lightly...&quot; He says, stepping on a stray twig. His own light grows brighter and brighter, to the level of a small lantern because all that&#39;s showing are the marking on his head.<br> <br>Galve holds his own torch, looking around as the group traveled into the tunnels. He kept his other hand on the pommel of his sword. He was running through a checklist of his personal equipment, making sure he knew where everything was and where to get it. Helped with the sense of mild claustrophobia he was starting to feel. Not terrible, but when you&#39;re used to more open spaces it happens.<br> <br>&quot;Oh, yeah. That too,&quot; the Coyote replies, scratching at his chin as he looks around. &quot;If we&#39;re lucky, they&#39;re out at the moment,&quot; he adds, grinning as he continues down the tunnel. &quot;Wouldn&#39;t that be swell? Just in and out, easy money...&quot;<br> <br>Everything is quiet, aside from the occasional vague dripping sound, even as the cavern becomes darker outside the glow of the torches and Kastovin&#39;s bioluminescence. It is not long before the trio comes to a branch from the main, wide tunnel. It is a bit smaller, just high enough for the average being to walk without stooping. This tunnel slopes steeply downward and the walls are slick with some sort of ichor.<br> <br>Kastovin stops and looks at the branching path. &quot;I wonder...&quot; He says, steping over to the tunnle. He looks down it, trying to see anything that&#39;s down there. &quot;This could be the enterance to their place, if you ask me...&quot; He says pulling out a vial of liquid. He shakes it vigorisly, and it starts to produce a dim light. Uncorking it, he pours the liquid down the steep downwarn path, to see where it would flow to.<br> <br>Galve eyes the tunnel. &quot;Looks like our stop. How slick do you think that is?&quot; He asks the others, watching Kastovin&#39;s experiment curiously.<br> <br>The Coyote peers down the slope with a hrm, ears flicking at the dripping noises. &quot;All this dripping&#39;s gonna make me need to go,&quot; he says. &quot;Drip, drip. Drip drip drip,&quot; Mal murmurs as he makes his way down the path, careful not to step onto...whatever that liquid is. &quot;Come on, those eggs aren&#39;t getting any fresher,&quot; he says to his companions, smirking.<br> <br>The diminuative feline&#39;s alchemical glow juice flows quickly down the steep slope of the tunnel, quickly dimming as the chemicals are dispersed in the rocky soil.
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Mal, taking the lead, finds the footing treacherous, but not impassible, slipping a little here and there. As the group moves carefully along, strands of silk start to hang from the path ahead, creating a sparse coating along the walls that is quickly growing thicker. From time to time, small tunnels branch off from the main one, though most are too small for a full sized being to crawl through and thus, probably not made by the hill wurms.<br> <br>Kastovin has a bit of white chalk that he has been using to mark the tunnles, and before sliding down with Mal, he&#39;d mark this one with an O to show they&#39;ve been here, but not come back up. Once he has marked it, he sides on down with him. &quot;Oh, man! Look at all of these!&quot; He goes to the biggest hole he can find. &quot;This may take a while..&quot; Looking back to Mal and Galve, he takes a step into the hole, keeping an eye out for any webbing or eggs.<br> <br>Galve keeps his torch away from the webbing as he descends, careful to keep his wings from being crushed as he slides down after them. He eyes the holes as he does so, then looks at Kastovin&#39;s diminutive form. He then shakes his head. Not a great idea.<br> <br>Mal eghs, holding out a hand to brace himself as he goes while keeping the torch up, lighting the way. &quot;...This was a mistake,&quot; he mutters as he almost loses his footing. The Coyote looks at Kastovin and shakes his head at Cat&#39;s enthusiasm. &quot;Let&#39;s just grab what we need and get out. I&#39;d prefer not to run into a Hill Wurm,&quot; he says. &quot;...They aren&#39;t pleasant.&quot; As if it needs mentioning...<br> <br>The tunnel grows larger and wider as the group descends, and the sticky webbing on the walls grows thicker. The floor starts to level out even as it grows increasingly slick with ichor. Then the tunnel ends.
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The relatively small tunnel suddenly yawns into a massive cavern, the ceiling out of reach of the feeble light of the party&#39;s torches. Huge masses hump and heave themselves around in the distant darkness and the walls are thick with sticky silk webbing.<br> <br>Kastovin dims his light slighty, smiling back to Mal and Galve. He whispers &quot;I think we found what we were looking for!&quot; He reaches inside of his robe and pulls out three neatly folded cloth sacks, handing one to Mal and Galve. He undoes his and, using his crooked cane, starts pulling down as much webbing as he can reach and stuffing it into his bag.<br> <br>Galve eyes the masses. &quot;Those must be the wurms....&quot; He mutters quietly to himself, before getting to gathering masses of silk to stick into the bag provided.<br> <br>Mal stops at the edge of the tunnel, staring down into the cavern. &quot;...Looks cozy,&quot; he says after a moment, taking one of the sacks and pulling on a pair of gloves, before beginning to fill his own bag, glancing over at those massive masses in the shadows from time to time. The last thing they need is to be caught unaware by Wurms...<br> <br>The webs are sticky and strong, but not so much that the careful adventurers can&#39;t get what they came for. Unfortunately, all the tugging and pulling on the network of webs draws some unwanted attention.
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A pair of elephant sized hill wurms, probably named for their size rather than their habitat, starts to heave themselves over toward the party from amidst the writhing traffic of the main part of the cavern! Their forms at the edge of the torchlight are terrible, shining with mucus, muscles bunching and heaving under their translucent skin. Their bodies have no necks, ending in an insictile lump tipped in fierce mandibles and alien eyelessness.<br> <br>Kastovin hears the movement! He quickly turns his head from stuffing his bag with the webbing, wiping the excess on his robe. &quot;Hmm...&quot; He says, standing up. &quot;They must be like spiders, sensing when the something comes tapping on the web...&quot; He grabs his staff with both hands. &quot;Let&#39;s deal with them before they get too close!&quot; His staff starts to glow ever so slightly.... The light grows quickly as arcs of static jumps off, licking everything within range of it. This not being the main spell, he says behind him &quot;If this does not work, I don&#39;t know what will!&quot; He says, releasing it to deal with the wurms<br> <br>Galve eyes the monstrous wurms slowly lurching their way. His wings flit nervously.... &quot;Can we even hurt those things?&quot; He asks as he watches Kastovin prepare a spell. &quot;I don&#39;t think that&#39;s a great idea....&quot; He says, worried. His wings buzz a little more with his anxiety, ready to lift him off at a moments notice...<br> <br>&quot;That&#39;s one ugly...&quot; Mal starts, trailing off as he realizes that, oh hey, they&#39;re coming for them. &quot;...Right.&quot; The Coyote stuffs his sack a little more before tossing it to the side, flicking his wrist and grasping a knife in his hand. &quot;How do we want to-&quot; The Coyote blinks. &quot;...Yeah, sure. That works,&quot; he mutters, glancing at Galve. &quot;Oh, yeah. You ever stabbed them? They&#39;re kinda squishy, you know how it goes. Squish, squash,&quot; the Fressword continues, twirling the knife in his hand now, waiting to see how much damage Kastovin managed before he goes losing more knives.

Revision as of 23:13, 18 January 2017

Participants

Date

18/1/480

Log



Amar Widestripe is lounging on a large canvas chair that is really more like a hammock. There is a large umbrella set up beside him, shielding him from the morning sun, and his man, Gavin is waiting on him while the pair of them along with a caprine cart driver sit on the edge of the Steel Blade Hills waiting for Freeswords to arrive at the appointed time.

The wind picks up near the three beings waiting around. It seems to be localized in a single area close to Amar. It grows faster and faster, the dirt and dust being kicked up shows a funnle going up and bending in what would assume to be the general direction of the city. In the distance there's a thing moving at ludicrous towards the group, but as it grows closer to the end, it gets slower. Finally, whatever it is gets deposited at the end and all the wind dies down and all is silent. That is until the small figure chimes up "Hello, Amar!" Calls a voice the big cat knows all too well. "I came as quickly as I could!" He says, setting down a bag next to the seat of the large cat. It makes contact with the ground in a heavy thump. "What sort of trouble are we getting into this time?" He says, removing his hood so he can get a look at the big cat in earnest.

Galve arrives shortly after Kastovin, his arrival announced with the droning of iridescent wings. He lands next to them, flicking his wings back behind him as he did and walking up to the tubby tiger alongside Kastovin. "Present and accounted for, Mr. Widestripe." He says, nodding politely as he did so. Since Kastovin had already asked, he waited for Amar's answer.

A Coyote saunters onto the scene, whistling a tune as he makes his way up to the group. "Sorry I'm late," he says with a grin, "Had to walk." Mal looks to Kastovin and Galve, nodding to both before looking to Amar, waiting for instructions.

"Ah yes, Ah yes," Amar says, looking up, a bit irritably from the drink in his hand, now with dust and grass blown in by Kastovin's windy entrance, "Mister Kastovin, Mister Galve. Glad to have you." His ursine assisstant quickly replaces the sullied drink and the fat tiger perks up almost instantly. "Yes, yes, well. You might say that you will be getting into," he pauses dramatically, "DEEP trouble!" The tiger chuckles at his own pun, waving a fat hand toward a large and dark tunnel in the side of one of the nearby, stony hills, waiting only a moment for the newly arrived coyote to catch up. "I have a buyer interested in the unusual properties of Hill Wurm silk and eggs," he explains, "I myself lack the fortitude and adventurous proclivities to hunt them down myself, and so I have called upon you intrepid explorers to fetch them for me."

Kastovin looks up at the big cat and says "It is good to see you too!" When Amar gestures to over where the cave is, the far smaller cat says "Well..." He says, reaches into his bag to find some items, stuffing them into his robe. Sever flasks, a few glass vials filled with inexplicable fluids and powders. "Best be prepared..." He says standing back up. "Do you have any torches or means of light? I can glow pretty bright, but that needs me to be out of my robe." He says, looking back to the big cat in the chair.

Galve nods to Mal. He eyes the hole and then looks back to the others. He checks his gear for a moment, then looks back to the others. "I'm ready when you are." He says, a hand resting on the pommel of his sword.

Mal rubs his hands together. "Lovely. I'm sure this will be a breeze..." he says, glancing over at the tunnel before idly checking his weapons. "...Need to get ahold of one of those glowstones," he mumbles. "That Pegasus had one, seemed handy enough..." The Coyote looks back to Amar, ears flicking. "How much do you need us to get?"

"Torches?" Amar asks, "Don't you Freeswords come with equipment included?"

Gavin leans down and murmurs something to his employer, who sighs and waves his hand dismissively. "Very well, very well," he says, "We have some torches you may use."

The bear hurries to the cart and returns a moment later with four torches, which he passes out to the Freeswords.

"Satisfied?" Amar asks lazily, "Good, good. Now, I will need at least three eggs. Fresher is better. Can't have them hatching before I sell them, now can we? And as much webbing as you can carry. Do be careful," he says in longsuffering tones, "I understand that the webs can be flammable. Now, off you go."

Kastovin nods to Mal and Galve. "Well, I think we are set! You guys are ready, yeah?" He says, pulling out his staff from his bag, letting it tap on the ground. He makes his way over to the mouth of the cave, waving to Amar. He waits for it to be quiet before he tries listening in the cave before stepping into it. "I wonder..." He whispers to Galve and Mal, "Just how deep these wurms are."

Galve takes the torch from Gavin and nods. "Alright Mr Widestripe, I think we get the picture. Ready to go, you two?" He asks, producing a means to light his torch from a belt pouch as he followed the others over to the cave. "Well, someone has to go first."

"...Torches and flammable webbing. Sounds like a perfect combination," he says, accepting one of the torches. "Three eggs, as fresh as possible, and as much webbing as we can get. We'll see what we can do," he says, trudging along after the other two. The Coyote raises an eyebrow at Kastovin. "Whatcha mean, how deep?" he asks, stepping into the tunnel. "Like, big? Or wide? Or how far down they live?" he continues, lighting his own torch and hold it aloft.

The tunnel is wide and the sides and floor are surprisingly smooth, though the whole place gleams in the light of the torches with an unpleasant dampness. The tunnel is also strangely humid, especially this close to Drytongue. There are no particularly distinguishing features of the low cavern, aside from its lack of distinguishing features. The noontime sunlight outside filters pretty deep here.

Kastovin makes his way into the cave, still saying in a hushed tone "How far in the cave these wurms are, Mal. We don't want to be surpised by some angry wurms. We are in their home now, so step lightly..." He says, stepping on a stray twig. His own light grows brighter and brighter, to the level of a small lantern because all that's showing are the marking on his head.

Galve holds his own torch, looking around as the group traveled into the tunnels. He kept his other hand on the pommel of his sword. He was running through a checklist of his personal equipment, making sure he knew where everything was and where to get it. Helped with the sense of mild claustrophobia he was starting to feel. Not terrible, but when you're used to more open spaces it happens.

"Oh, yeah. That too," the Coyote replies, scratching at his chin as he looks around. "If we're lucky, they're out at the moment," he adds, grinning as he continues down the tunnel. "Wouldn't that be swell? Just in and out, easy money..."

Everything is quiet, aside from the occasional vague dripping sound, even as the cavern becomes darker outside the glow of the torches and Kastovin's bioluminescence. It is not long before the trio comes to a branch from the main, wide tunnel. It is a bit smaller, just high enough for the average being to walk without stooping. This tunnel slopes steeply downward and the walls are slick with some sort of ichor.

Kastovin stops and looks at the branching path. "I wonder..." He says, steping over to the tunnle. He looks down it, trying to see anything that's down there. "This could be the enterance to their place, if you ask me..." He says pulling out a vial of liquid. He shakes it vigorisly, and it starts to produce a dim light. Uncorking it, he pours the liquid down the steep downwarn path, to see where it would flow to.

Galve eyes the tunnel. "Looks like our stop. How slick do you think that is?" He asks the others, watching Kastovin's experiment curiously.

The Coyote peers down the slope with a hrm, ears flicking at the dripping noises. "All this dripping's gonna make me need to go," he says. "Drip, drip. Drip drip drip," Mal murmurs as he makes his way down the path, careful not to step onto...whatever that liquid is. "Come on, those eggs aren't getting any fresher," he says to his companions, smirking.

The diminuative feline's alchemical glow juice flows quickly down the steep slope of the tunnel, quickly dimming as the chemicals are dispersed in the rocky soil.

Mal, taking the lead, finds the footing treacherous, but not impassible, slipping a little here and there. As the group moves carefully along, strands of silk start to hang from the path ahead, creating a sparse coating along the walls that is quickly growing thicker. From time to time, small tunnels branch off from the main one, though most are too small for a full sized being to crawl through and thus, probably not made by the hill wurms.

Kastovin has a bit of white chalk that he has been using to mark the tunnles, and before sliding down with Mal, he'd mark this one with an O to show they've been here, but not come back up. Once he has marked it, he sides on down with him. "Oh, man! Look at all of these!" He goes to the biggest hole he can find. "This may take a while.." Looking back to Mal and Galve, he takes a step into the hole, keeping an eye out for any webbing or eggs.

Galve keeps his torch away from the webbing as he descends, careful to keep his wings from being crushed as he slides down after them. He eyes the holes as he does so, then looks at Kastovin's diminutive form. He then shakes his head. Not a great idea.

Mal eghs, holding out a hand to brace himself as he goes while keeping the torch up, lighting the way. "...This was a mistake," he mutters as he almost loses his footing. The Coyote looks at Kastovin and shakes his head at Cat's enthusiasm. "Let's just grab what we need and get out. I'd prefer not to run into a Hill Wurm," he says. "...They aren't pleasant." As if it needs mentioning...

The tunnel grows larger and wider as the group descends, and the sticky webbing on the walls grows thicker. The floor starts to level out even as it grows increasingly slick with ichor. Then the tunnel ends.

The relatively small tunnel suddenly yawns into a massive cavern, the ceiling out of reach of the feeble light of the party's torches. Huge masses hump and heave themselves around in the distant darkness and the walls are thick with sticky silk webbing.

Kastovin dims his light slighty, smiling back to Mal and Galve. He whispers "I think we found what we were looking for!" He reaches inside of his robe and pulls out three neatly folded cloth sacks, handing one to Mal and Galve. He undoes his and, using his crooked cane, starts pulling down as much webbing as he can reach and stuffing it into his bag.

Galve eyes the masses. "Those must be the wurms...." He mutters quietly to himself, before getting to gathering masses of silk to stick into the bag provided.

Mal stops at the edge of the tunnel, staring down into the cavern. "...Looks cozy," he says after a moment, taking one of the sacks and pulling on a pair of gloves, before beginning to fill his own bag, glancing over at those massive masses in the shadows from time to time. The last thing they need is to be caught unaware by Wurms...

The webs are sticky and strong, but not so much that the careful adventurers can't get what they came for. Unfortunately, all the tugging and pulling on the network of webs draws some unwanted attention.

A pair of elephant sized hill wurms, probably named for their size rather than their habitat, starts to heave themselves over toward the party from amidst the writhing traffic of the main part of the cavern! Their forms at the edge of the torchlight are terrible, shining with mucus, muscles bunching and heaving under their translucent skin. Their bodies have no necks, ending in an insictile lump tipped in fierce mandibles and alien eyelessness.

Kastovin hears the movement! He quickly turns his head from stuffing his bag with the webbing, wiping the excess on his robe. "Hmm..." He says, standing up. "They must be like spiders, sensing when the something comes tapping on the web..." He grabs his staff with both hands. "Let's deal with them before they get too close!" His staff starts to glow ever so slightly.... The light grows quickly as arcs of static jumps off, licking everything within range of it. This not being the main spell, he says behind him "If this does not work, I don't know what will!" He says, releasing it to deal with the wurms

Galve eyes the monstrous wurms slowly lurching their way. His wings flit nervously.... "Can we even hurt those things?" He asks as he watches Kastovin prepare a spell. "I don't think that's a great idea...." He says, worried. His wings buzz a little more with his anxiety, ready to lift him off at a moments notice...

"That's one ugly..." Mal starts, trailing off as he realizes that, oh hey, they're coming for them. "...Right." The Coyote stuffs his sack a little more before tossing it to the side, flicking his wrist and grasping a knife in his hand. "How do we want to-" The Coyote blinks. "...Yeah, sure. That works," he mutters, glancing at Galve. "Oh, yeah. You ever stabbed them? They're kinda squishy, you know how it goes. Squish, squash," the Fressword continues, twirling the knife in his hand now, waiting to see how much damage Kastovin managed before he goes losing more knives.