To Prove D&D Exists for Echolon

OOC: Going for another round trip?

"Tasties, Toots, Ilyra dumped the last of her Tasties to divert the rock lobsters.  Anyway, yeah I guess our options are to storm a short sequence of beaches or go back to playing with breathing doors."  Tommary then ponders their next moves with "hmmms" in rhythm to the baseline of "Rock Lobster."

OOC: Wasn't sure Yuriel was getting in on the increasing SE Pennsylvania vibe to the town by describing rations as Tasties, but I'll push the notion.  Maybe the BBEG will fight us in a WaWa.

Quote from MidnightPlat >>

OOC: Wasn't sure Yuriel was getting in on the increasing SE Pennsylvania vibe to the town by describing rations as Tasties, but I'll push the notion.  Maybe the BBEG will fight us in a WaWa.

 
OOC: With it’s magic jawn that lets it walk on wooder no less….
   Sorry ‘bout dat youse all. It occurred to me around page 140ish that, as a daughter of the warrens, she’d have a much less refined manner of speech. And, well… go wi’ wha’cha know. Namean?

“So, wait a min…. It’s a giant room full’a rooms full’a monsters that wanna eat people… that leads right back here. Yeah? I’m so glad we finally figured out howd’a get through that last murder room to come this way. So…back to the tunnel’s doors then?”

"I dunno, if we take care of what's around the bends in the water, I'm sure someone has some Old Bay in their mess and we could at minimum do up like a boil, and like Ilyra says see if it takes us anywhere further.  Or we gotta cross the trenches that don't even have exhaust ports and take the doors....  I'm good either way, but a good ol' fashion rock scuttler boil would hit the spot."

"Still don't trust those nestin' doors for spit.  An' I suppose if we can clear out that first ring of water, get ridda the lobstrosities there, we could just rain fire down on everything else from above and clear 'em out, or even distract the critters in the lower rings with fresh lobstrosity body.  Still..."

DM: Did Ilyara get any sense of just how many lobstrosities were in the uppermost ring they went through?  We talking two or three?  Five or six?  30+  I.e. is it a fight we have any damn chance of winning or is it a case of Alaca-Nah, Bruh?

Quote from Yurei1453 >>

DM: Did Ilyara get any sense of just how many lobstrosities were in the uppermost ring they went through?  We talking two or three?  Five or six?  30+  I.e. is it a fight we have any damn chance of winning or is it a case of Alaca-Nah, Bruh?

 There are 3 adults (5 feet long) and many small ones which you guess the fish was talking about eating.

The scorpion layer has 3 giant scorpion

The next water level has 3 sea lion

You could not clearly see what was at the bottom.

"...there's only three of the lobstrosity buggers.  We could probably take 'em, and the stingbugs and the big catfish below them can't really get t'us while we're floating our leisurely way along the top.  At least, up until we find out this stupid evil wizard guy what built this place gave all his critters magic Jettepacks*."

Quote from Yurei1453 >>

Alan Jette is a famous - some say infamous - artificer in the history of Cliffside.  Convinced that the Seige was over, he sought to create ways for the citizens of Cliffside to quickly and easily explore and reclaim the lands beyond the ancient walls.  His favored means of doing so were magical constructs were worn like a typical traveler's backpack that provided flight in any of a dozen dizzying ways, from an array of a dozen insectlike wings beating in a bizarrely complex pattern to spider legs that climbed across the air rather than the wall.  Colloquially known as 'Jette packs' by those who observed the man's fixation from afar, the devices usually worked but were notoriously difficult to operate correctly.  They fell out of common favor and were never seriously considered by the Waywatchers, especially after Jette's greatest flight pack - a design that used special arcane cannons to spew magical fire and hurl its wearer through the sky at unprecedented speeds - exploded spectacularly with him in it during his final test.  To this day, people talk about the Jette Fireworks Show, and some people claim to find flecks of long-dried blood from the artificer in unlikely nooks of their roofs even today.

“Ohh… some of those Jettepacks would’a been super helpful in this place. I wish we had brought some. Even one would’a been a big help. ‘Member when I mentioned that guy I knew with the ‘motes that were always runnin’ outta ‘tricity? He had a collection of parts from some’a those old Jettepacks, he was tryin’a recreate some. I wonder if he ever did. Anyway. I Don’t trust the door-to-door services in this place either. But while youse were in there, unless you saw anything in there that led anywhere but right back here, is there even a point in going through all those critters? Catching a lobstrosity for dinner would be nice, but not nice enough to deal with all the rest of that and still have nowhere to go but back to the doors. Did youse see any other ways to go in there?”

"Thoughts, and only thoughts.  There's this whole Waterworld thing going on in this mountain, what with Henry being put here, and those stagnant messes we've stomped through, and the big ole flusher from what was that yesterday?  To me, there's more order to this room on the other side of the loop.  I'm thinking maybe if we take care of the lobsters, and the next ring isn't thrown out to us to fight, it might give us a better sense of what the frig is actually going on in here.  I mean, when I came in I thought we were just gonna be clearing out some gnolls.  Now we got some evil magic master populated this place with a gallery of largely B-listers and undercarders, besides maybe Layla, the room yonder there is maybe the only place we've been that seems in real good working order.  I'd say we might learn a bit of big picture on this leg.  And don't tell me the goblins' set up was in perfect working order before I set it on fire, those hacks were a bunch of jagoffs whose overall negligence was as responsible for the conflagration as my effort to illuminate it."

'"sides.  Those lobstrosity jackwads ate my food.  Least they can do is return the favor, 'specially since it'll be a whole other day before I can beseech the Traveler for the spell that lets me make food.  And lemme tell ya...I've eaten bland before.  Ya might think it really can't beat Lowtown gruel for bland.  But the stuff th'Traveler's magic conjures up?  It takes bland to a whole other level.  This is stuff that's bland in a way I didn't know food could get.  Like, this stuff goes out of its way to be bland.  I've seen pictures of food that were more appetizin' to eat than this stuff - and I mean eatin' the picture, not eatin' the stuff in the picture.  It'll keep your belly full and your bowels as regular as clockwork, but it's the last stuff ye wanna be eatin' if you can at all help it.  Prob'ly the Traveler's way of makin' sure this particular spark of divine power's a last resort, can't imagine a goddess o'her sort enjoyin' bein' reduced to a food delivery girl."

“Well then… what do you think Ely? Should we risk it? If you think it’s worth a try then I’m willing to go. I’ll feel a lot safer with you there to protect me. Should we make a go of getting some fresh grub?”

“I think that makes sense.” 

OOC: I’ll do my best to check in tonight and tomorrow night, but I’m leaving this morning for an out of state family funeral, so I may be a bit spotty. 

Quote from ArwensDaughter >>

“I think that makes sense.” 

OOC: I’ll do my best to check in tonight and tomorrow night, but I’m leaving this morning for an out of state family funeral, so I may be a bit spotty. 

 OOC: Oh dear, my condolences. As always, don't worry about the game. We'll be here for you when you get back.

OOC: No worries here, AD.  Do what you need to, and I hope it goes as well as such things can go.

OOC: Thanks all. Fortunately it’s a case of a long life well lived.

OOC @ ArwensDaughter: Again, my condolences. And as in most things, I’ll take quality over quantity any day. When one has both, and was loved, May we all be half as fortunate.

”Well, a'ight I suppose. I feel safe wherever you are, Ely, even in this place. Lets go replace Ily’s rations. If the traveler’s cookin’ is even more bland than human food…” Toots tries to push an unpleasant taste from her mouth with her tongue. “…I wouldn’t wish that on her. Or anyone for that matter, not even the Gnolls. Lets do this.”

 As she spoke she checked on Mece to feed him and clean his pouch. Then the Otterpops to gather fresh contributions for the canteens. Toots thanks them with belly rubs before drying and warming her pack turned Howdahs, returning them to it, and it to her back.

 Her caregiving concluded and decisions having been reached, Toots air shifts somewhat from her typical lightheartedness. She closes her eyes, and as her feet slide apart into to a power stance she sharply jerks her shoulder causing her lute to swing ‘round to the front. She reaches up to the band of her floppy-brimmed hat and retrieves her pick. With a dramatic windmill of her arm she strikes a power chord infused with real power binding the notes to her will. Sparkling, aubergine energy begins to gather around the soles of her boots and as it rises it coalesce into an overskin of abjuring hardlight. When it reaches her collar, it disappears momentarily before continuing on to envelop her dashing chapeau. When the spell meets itself at the top, the sparkling ✨SHATTERS✨ into glittering motes of light that fade as they drift towards the ground like embers from the Survivors’ Day* fireworks.

 As the mage armor settles around her, it’s luster fades to a faint glimmer only obvious wherever the light catches. She gently shakes her head, freeing the hair that had been compressed by the protective layer as it formed. Toots opens her eyes and straightens as she tucks her pic between the strings of her lute near the nut, before swinging the instrument behind herself again. She stretches her neck side to side and loosens her rapier in its scabbard just in case. Lastly she checks to make sure her hand crossbow is cocked and loaded.

”Youse all ready to put on a show?”

*Survivors’ Day.

Survivors’ Day is an annual celebration commemorating the final, desperate battle by the Waywatchers of eld who successfully defended Cliffside against the all out assault of the shadowdemons as the ravening horde mounted their final, frenzied push to breach the citadel. When the battle had been won, as the abominable army broke and routed, Cliffside’s defenders harried the retreating tide of evil with specialized, spell-wrought incendiaries which caused the foul creatures to explore in a shower of fading sparks and drifting ash.

Every year, all of the inhabitant of Cliffside celebrate Survivors’ Day with abject revelry as it is a reminder that life itself is worth celebrating. But the hearts of the Waywatchers swell with pride in the victory of their forebearers. And for them it is traditional to reswear their oaths, and reaffirm their resolve to continue protecting Cliffside and it’s inhabitants. That is so the sacrifices and victories of every 'Watcher come before can be long celebrated into the future by the survivors.

“Honor the watch! Long be they remembered.”

—Excerpt from “Honor the Watch, A history of the Cliffside Volume 4 of 12” edited by Roebourne Hughenden

"Put it this way, Toots - humans complain about th' blandness of the Traveler's conjured fare.  Humans do.  Lowtowners who eat gruel one meal in every two complain about the blandness o'this stuff."

"So in service to our tongues and our guts," Ilyara said, drawing Rilia and briefly channeling a spark through the marvelous little arcane blade after watching Toots decide to get dangerous, "let's get us some seafood, eh?  C'mon, Tallboots!  Back in the boat with us, and this time bringin' fire and vexation!  Gotta gitcher Woo on!"  

The furling girl hopped back up into her boat, using her rod to hold it still while the others prepared the second boat.  "Remember - if things start lookin' like they're headin' firmly southbound, I can pop my ring again.  It'll make it real hard for critters to potshot us if they can somehow do that, and th'current'll carry us back t'safety under cover of fog.  Don't be surprised when that happens, provided we somehow start losin' a fight to a bunch of overgrown crawdads."

Who will be in which boat and which boat is in front?

Maintaining 6 foot distancing or keeping close together?