To Prove D&D Exists for Echolon

“Should we or shouldn’t we? Confront or evade?”

"Unless it decides t' make a move, why muck with it?  We all know it's some kinda luring faker, let it keep fakin' having a good day whilst we go 'bout our business."

"AW crap, it was a distraction."

bzzt.

You all feel as if your feet are sticky, then realize that tiny vines have started to cover or in some cases bored into your boots!

"It made a move!"

Tommary the Unworthy Prey welcomes the opportunity to bring the sword, arrow and mojo equivalent of this, possibly again:

"Awww, damnit!  Why's it gotta be like that?"

Ilyara draws Rilia and starts cutting herself free, super thankful that in this universe somebody has invented boots for paws and she's not got rootlets digging into her bare paws the way they would in other games Yurei's played in before...

Anybody who does not cut themselves free soon (24 hours real time) will take 2 points of damage and be grappled.

Elyona looks a bit shocked at the rootlets attached to her boots, then shakes herself a bit, pulls out her talking sword and starts cutting herself free.  Once she has done so, she attempts to identify a place to stand outside of the range of the rootlets. 

OOC: Sorry, the mods had sent me on another vacation from forum posting (wrongfully this time, it was overturned).

IC: “AHHH!! Ely, help me!!” Toots pulls out a dagger and begins cutting the roots as best she can.

Tommary the Unworthy of vinedeath brandishes Windbreaker like a weedwhacker, endeavoring to free himself and anyone needing assistance cutting themselves loose.

You manage to cut yourselves free of the flesh eating moss and can now distinguish it from other types in the area.

The squirrel twitches and winks at you.

"Rude!" Ilyara yells out at the winking squirrel, flipping a gesture its way that could - and has - started bar fights in Lowtown.  "Keep yer roots off my boots!"

"We want to try hitting with cold like the last flora, maybe this is acutally it?"

"Naw.  Let it be.  I don't think startin' random fights we can avoid's a great idea down here, no easy way t' retreat if we get caught out."

“Yeah, let’s just get outta here.”

"Agreed"

Giving the squirrel a wide berth, the party once again makes its way in the direction of the frog people.

The trunks of the mushroom trees form a sort of arch with a narrow twisted trail. You hear rustling in the mosses possibly from lizards or rats. The odor is reminiscent of home at Cliffside.

After traveling for 15 minutes, you easily avoid another patch of the boring moss and see hanging threads drifting in non-existent wind in your direction. The swords give warning that these might also be bad news. 

Tommary the Unworthy and dauntedly sulking since they all ducked a fight identifies the vegetative tendrils and gets into a low crouch, "how 'bout them? we blast them with the cold snap?"

“I only have so much cold magic in me for the day. I can try, but if we can kill ‘em some other way, that’ll be nice.”

"I guess the question is whether they want to kill us, or just, you know, feel us out."

“Wadaya think?”