Miranda's petite nose wrinkled at the horrid smell of tapestry burning, and tickled from the magical mist that appeared. She hoped the fog was a result of Marlit's spell - and not some noxious gas released by a misstep.
Nevertheless, she was surprisingly comfortable in the arcane fog. Like a silent warning on the lips of the damned she slithers towards the alcove. Miranda ignored the chaos and confusing of the rest of the party. Slipping into the alcove through the open portcullis she began to investigate the Tiny Stone Altar.
As she reached to tilt or turn the altar, however, he hand was caught by a tentacle. The oozing proboscis shot out of the thick pea soup without her noticing. But the slime and suction of it's tether were quite detectable. Glancing at the thick cord she recognized it belonged to a violet fungus. A threat which often accompanied shriekers.
Using a choice word he'd heard from a hard man in a rough bar, Piker rubs his eyes and blinks. Being blinded from Morcant's flame spell, his face now burned and his hands hurt. Clutching the looted dagger he edges toward the nearest shrieker. As he slices in the thick fog, the dagger finds a mark. The unmistakeable torrent of screams ensures Piker he tearing a nearby shrieker to shreds. Not yet dead, the bobbing cap attempts to push him away with it's erratic movements.
As Gurin's axe blade slices the shrieking shroom, Lisabelle follows suite and shouts "Lockjaw, kill!" She grins at the chaos around her. If it weren't for the dire straights the party was in she would laugh at the ineptitude of the plan unfolding.
As Lockjaw dives through the bank of thick fog, and out of sight, Lisabelle listens closely. Never one to disappoint, Lockjaw follows orders perfectly. The familiar growling, snapping of sharp teeth, and chorus of crying yells let's Lisabelle know the second shrieker is being effectively torn asunder.
She points in the direction of the shrieker crying out under Lockjaw's bite and casts a fireball. The flame licks at her palm, and swirls around back of her hand. Smoothly the fire slides toward her outstretched fingers and pools, floating, in the space between them. It glows brightly for a moment, then shoots with precision and speed toward the enemy. Perhaps it was the diminished line of sight which caused her flame to go astray. The ball of fire whizzed past Lockjaw's query, and instead aided Piker in his destruction of the remaining shrieker.
Nevertheless, she was surprisingly comfortable in the arcane fog. Like a silent warning on the lips of the damned she slithers towards the alcove. Miranda ignored the chaos and confusing of the rest of the party. Slipping into the alcove through the open portcullis she began to investigate the Tiny Stone Altar.
As she reached to tilt or turn the altar, however, he hand was caught by a tentacle. The oozing proboscis shot out of the thick pea soup without her noticing. But the slime and suction of it's tether were quite detectable. Glancing at the thick cord she recognized it belonged to a violet fungus. A threat which often accompanied shriekers.
Using a choice word he'd heard from a hard man in a rough bar, Piker rubs his eyes and blinks. Being blinded from Morcant's flame spell, his face now burned and his hands hurt. Clutching the looted dagger he edges toward the nearest shrieker. As he slices in the thick fog, the dagger finds a mark. The unmistakeable torrent of screams ensures Piker he tearing a nearby shrieker to shreds. Not yet dead, the bobbing cap attempts to push him away with it's erratic movements.
As Gurin's axe blade slices the shrieking shroom, Lisabelle follows suite and shouts "Lockjaw, kill!" She grins at the chaos around her. If it weren't for the dire straights the party was in she would laugh at the ineptitude of the plan unfolding.
As Lockjaw dives through the bank of thick fog, and out of sight, Lisabelle listens closely. Never one to disappoint, Lockjaw follows orders perfectly. The familiar growling, snapping of sharp teeth, and chorus of crying yells let's Lisabelle know the second shrieker is being effectively torn asunder.
She points in the direction of the shrieker crying out under Lockjaw's bite and casts a fireball. The flame licks at her palm, and swirls around back of her hand. Smoothly the fire slides toward her outstretched fingers and pools, floating, in the space between them. It glows brightly for a moment, then shoots with precision and speed toward the enemy. Perhaps it was the diminished line of sight which caused her flame to go astray. The ball of fire whizzed past Lockjaw's query, and instead aided Piker in his destruction of the remaining shrieker.
Ptolmek is thankful for the steel gauntlets which protect his hands from the worst of the flames. But feels dismayed by the lack of unity in the group. Inwardly he wonders how they will ever succeed at their mission if they can't work as a team. Ptolmek drops the tattered fragments of burnt tapestry. In the blindness caused by the mist, he feels around for the wall. Turning his back to the wall he draws the heavy mace into action. Ptolmek wouldn't flippantly swing the heft of the mace without clear sight. He waits for the mist to clear.
In the white cloud Blackbird can hear the cries of dying shriekers from across the small room. He squats down on his haunches to avoid being hit by any attacks that are being thrown. Calling out his position near the alcove, he feels a body move past him. And moments later, he feels the stick suction of a violet fungus tentacle grip the back of his neck.
Marlit is both satisfied and frustrated with herself. The spell was executed perfectly. Too perfectly. Amid the wailing, and the unexpected burst of light shooting across the chamber, she readies another spell to release the mist from her command to coalesce. Within moments the incantation is uttered quietly, and the fog begins to clear slowly.
The dying cry of the shriekers is soon met with another danger. The ire of the violet fungus in the room has been stirred. Their symbiotic hosts, and primary lure, have been eliminated. With a frenzied lashing of whips and tentacles, all the violet fungus present surface. Their only desire is to retain any prey that passed into their space - and ensure their next meal doesn't escape. Perhaps another shrieker will come along soon.
Several new violet fungus plants emerge from small cracks in the granite, from behind chapel seating, and from within the alcove. Each with several, wildly flung, slime coated proboscis shooting toward the party. Five slimy ropes curl around Morcant's appendages. His arms, legs, and neck are all tied up - and the fungus begins pulling him back toward itself. Gurin feels two grip his legs, and one wrap itself firmly around his axe.
Two land on Blackbird McAllister - on the back of the neck, and on the left ankle. Three find purchase on Piker Silentall. One on Miranda, Ptolmek, Marlit, and Lisabelle each - most landing squarely on their torsos. Lockjaw devours the shrieker's remains - but remains unhindered by the tentacles.
What do you do?
In the white cloud Blackbird can hear the cries of dying shriekers from across the small room. He squats down on his haunches to avoid being hit by any attacks that are being thrown. Calling out his position near the alcove, he feels a body move past him. And moments later, he feels the stick suction of a violet fungus tentacle grip the back of his neck.
Marlit is both satisfied and frustrated with herself. The spell was executed perfectly. Too perfectly. Amid the wailing, and the unexpected burst of light shooting across the chamber, she readies another spell to release the mist from her command to coalesce. Within moments the incantation is uttered quietly, and the fog begins to clear slowly.
The dying cry of the shriekers is soon met with another danger. The ire of the violet fungus in the room has been stirred. Their symbiotic hosts, and primary lure, have been eliminated. With a frenzied lashing of whips and tentacles, all the violet fungus present surface. Their only desire is to retain any prey that passed into their space - and ensure their next meal doesn't escape. Perhaps another shrieker will come along soon.
Several new violet fungus plants emerge from small cracks in the granite, from behind chapel seating, and from within the alcove. Each with several, wildly flung, slime coated proboscis shooting toward the party. Five slimy ropes curl around Morcant's appendages. His arms, legs, and neck are all tied up - and the fungus begins pulling him back toward itself. Gurin feels two grip his legs, and one wrap itself firmly around his axe.
Two land on Blackbird McAllister - on the back of the neck, and on the left ankle. Three find purchase on Piker Silentall. One on Miranda, Ptolmek, Marlit, and Lisabelle each - most landing squarely on their torsos. Lockjaw devours the shrieker's remains - but remains unhindered by the tentacles.
What do you do?
Round Ends: Sunday, June 29 at 9 PM - Please post your turn
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