Sewers and Saviors Part 3

When last we left our stunning sewer spelunkers, they were in dire straits...

Although they managed to murder all the mephits, aided by the poop imp's attempts to summon reinforcements despite the Ward over Alexandria, they were soon confronted with an elemental made of mud and feces. Bryn was entrapped by the massive creature, and while Dirk managed to shoot it and do a fair chunk of damage, it wasn't enough to one-hit the monster but just pissed it off.

As we return to the action, it roars in anger and agony, spittle and corn-flecked shit flying as it waves it's arms in the air.

Come at me brah!

<OOC> Crik says, "As I do not have anything else, can I throw a fake bomb at it to try and distract it. ._.,"

<OOC> Skyler says, "Sure! Roll bluff"

GAME: Crik rolls bluff: (5)+13: 18

GAME: Skyler rolls 1d20+8: (2)+8: 10

<OOC> Skyler says, "We'll call it a feint and it loses it's dex modifier to AC"

Crik held onto his hand crossbow. The corvid egalrin - despite all his waterproof cloaks - has come to the conclusion that he would rather not get up and close with potential disease collection. And now there was even larger collection of foul matter?

The corvid made his way forward as the rest of the mephits were taken care of, holding onto his plague mask for dear life. Glancing around and seeing Bryn trapped, the crossbow is given one quick look. Then Crik's cloaks flutter open and he holds up a comically large and round metal orb.

A moment of staring.

He screams.

"IT'S A BOMB!"

The empty orb shell is thrown at the poop elemental, clattering down onto the ground. There's a brief puff and small amount of smoke leaks from the gaps.

<OOC> Skyler says, "Any movement, Crik?"

<OOC> Bryn would like to maintain her Inspire and use a full round to attempt to break free.

<OOC> Crik says, "Just to 16,3"

<OOC> Skyler says, "Ok, Bryn! Strength check, DC 17"

GAME: Bryn rolls strength+2: (8)+4+2: 14

<OOC> Ulthan says, "I'll step close and swing. I should be still Raging and I am still Large..."

GAME: Ulthan rolls weapon11: (14)+9: 23

<OOC> Skyler says, "Hit!"

Bryn has been in some crappy situations before, but never so... literally, now that she's been engulfed. "Augh! I'mma tired o' yer shite!" She strains against the surprisingly sticky, viscous.. stuff. Too much fiber? She isn't very successfull. "Get this shite offa me!"

GAME: Ulthan rolls damage11: aliased to 2d8+9: (12)+9: 21

<OOC> Ulthan says, "Wait, did the enchants from Bryn add to damage?"

<OOC> Sjach says, "Both do, I believe, +4 total?"

<OOC> Ulthan says, "So 25 total with those. :D"

Ulthan takes a heavy step forward, followed with an overhead swing of his now massive flail, connecting right on top of the exceremental, splattering vile stuff this way and that, visibly removing material from it.

<OOC> Sjach says, "Little flame will move to 18, 10 and attack. Sjach will move to 17, 14 and fire his bow. In point-blank range and have precise shot."

<OOC> Sjach says, "Little Flame first:"

GAME: Sjach rolls 5+2+2: (15)+5+2+2: 24

GAME: Sjach rolls 1d6+2+4: (3)+2+4: 9

GAME: Sjach rolls weapon10+2+2+1: (2)+8+2+2+1: 15

<OOC> Skyler says, "Ok, it's gunna bull rush Crik"

GAME: Skyler rolls 1d20+14: (14)+14: 28

<OOC> Skyler says, "Also gotta roll vs Bryn, i think?"

GAME: Skyler rolls 1d20+14-4: (9)+14+-4: 19

Sjach moves over to get a clearer line of sight on this new threat, and with a nod of his head sics his Swiftclaw companion on it as well. Little flame circles around, positioning herself opposite Ulthan. Though this creature doesn't particularly resemble her prey of choice, her aspects still guide her motions as she lunges for it and tears a hunk of its disgusting form off with her teeth. Even for the Swiftclaw, for whom a half-rotten roadside carcass of carriage collateral seems to be struggling with biting into this thing- can Swiftclaws Vomit? We may soon find out.

Sjach for his part draws a fresh arrow to his bow as he moves, draws it back, and looses it as he finds his new position. Despite the spell enhancing his senses, his arrow misses the mark once again. Perhaps their slick coating from his earlier dunk in effluvium is having adverse effect on their trajectory.

<OOC> Skyler says, "Ok, so Bryn has -4 to dex from Entrap/Entangled. Her CMD is usually 21, but -4 makes it 17. So both get hit"

<OOC> Skyler says, "Okay, so the Bull Rush was part of a charge. It's gunna attack Crik now"

<OOC> Skyler says, "It's attack is two claws >.>"

GAME: Skyler rolls 1d20+12: (7)+12: 19

GAME: Skyler rolls 1d20+12: (6)+12: 18

GAME: Skyler rolls 1d8+5: (4)+5: 9

GAME: Skyler rolls 1d8+5: (3)+5: 8

<OOC> Skyler says, "Crik, gimme two Fort saves"

Enraged by Crik's 'bomb' the exremental roars with fury, showing yellowed teeth made of corn kernels. It is so enraged that it forgets about Bryn, not even bothering to hit at the Oruch in it's fury but simply smashes into her as it charges at the egalrin with clawd hands raised.

The bard goes tumbling into the rogue, as the shit-covered claws come raging down at the poor feathered rogue, smacking him for two wicked blows that leave him covered in shit.

<OOC> Skyler says, "I'm gunna say the charge breaks Bryn out of Entrapment, too"

GAME: Crik rolls fortitude: (4)+2: 6

GAME: Crik rolls fortitude: (2)+2: 4

<OOC> Jarik says, "Well, I can still charge. Doing so to 16,10 and taking the attack"

GAME: Jarik rolls weapon1 +6: (16)+5+6: 27

GAME: Jarik rolls damage1+4: aliased to 1d6+3+4: (1)+3+4: 8

Jarik growls softly as the.. elemental, is that word even right in this case, goes slopping along the ground away from him, carrying off Bryn and going after yet another victim. "Hey! Get back here!" He shouts, having no idea why he is trying to lure it back, but it seems a reasonable thing to shout.

Instead of waiting to see if it does come back, he goes running after it, not wanting to stick his precious weapon into the thing but not having much of a choice as he slashing out with the large metal claws, tearing a furrow through the muck and poo that makes up the horrific mass.

<OOC> Skyler says, "Also, anyone that wants to make perception checks for me"

GAME: Jarik rolls perception+2: (6)+2+2: 10

GAME: Sjach rolls perception+3: (9)+9+3: 21

GAME: Bryn rolls perception: (14)+11: 25

GAME: Crik rolls perception: (11)+11: 22

GAME: Dirk rolls Perception: (9)+20: 29

<OOC> Sjach says, "Oh yeah, for Little Flame, too"

GAME: Sjach rolls 6: (12)+6: 18

GAME: Ulthan rolls perception+2: (10)+8+2: 20

Not only does Jarik's claws score on the monster, but it does so *violently*. Perhaps it's the witchcraft of the half-oruch. Perhaps it's simply the damage it's taken previously, but the entire thing shivers and then abruptly slumps back down into a puddle at Jarik's feet.

Now that the threat is over, the sewer spelunkers are able to get a better look at their surroundings. The entire room is lit with torches, making it bright enough to see just about everything... From Crik encased in shit (it's gunna be a bitch to get *that* out of his feathers!) to the half-elven man hanging from the wall dead. In the center of the room is a large pillar with metal shutters and a control panel by Jarik's side, a mechanical thing that Dirk with his Dwarven aptitude for stonework can tell controls the sluice mechanism that floods the overflow room below. And on one wall Bryn and Dirk can see a door, which Sjach and Little Flame, with their improved senses of smell, can tell leads out of the sewers into what smells like wilderness beyond Alexandria city...

Crik was holding up his hands and making noises. The most stifled, hushed caws one could have imagined coming from a bird of doom, the murder in the gloom. His fingers were stretching out slowly with the poo on him.

A moment later he gets back onto his feet and flips off the topmost cloak of his, leaving at least some of him covered in less crap. "... I do not want more crap."

Dirk rises to his feet, lowering his thunderbelcher as the excremental burbles its last. "Everyone all right? Nobody worse fer wear?" He pauses. "Sorry. Stupid question." He trundles over to join his friends, looking up and around as he examines the machinery. He leans over to peer down at the culvert on the floor below, then back up at the mechanism. "Hrm." Something draws his notice, and he looks over to peer towards a door not far from their position. "That's a way out, I'll warrant." He pauses. "Wait a tick." He looks up at the stone ceiling, then does a turn, examining the surroundings. "I think we're outside the walls!" He gives the slowly melting poo-puddle a hairy eyeball. "That must be how those... -whatever- the hell they were... got called up."

Sjach nods once in agreement with Dirk's assessment, and heads on over towards Little Flame to give her a pat on the flank. His hands won't be going anywhere near her face until both of them are cleaned up. "Thisss looks like a killing." he says as he looks towards the chained up body. "The apprentice could have been an accident. Thiss? No." he says as he nods his head towards it. He takes a moment to peer down the Culvert himself, gaining his bearings. "A Ritual, maybe? Thiss one knowss little about Arcane magic." he tells them.

Jarik dances back as the pooelemental collapses, hoping not to get any residual splash on his shoes. He eyes his weapon warily, giving it a little shake to dislodge the worst of the unpleasantness, but he's not close to putting it away, not until he can give it a good clean. "Possible." The witch replies to the question of a ritual, eyeing the mage with a frown. "Not one I know of though."

Crik looks at the others, and then starts to pull out potions from underneath his cloak, unceremoniously starting to drop them onto his hands, then his beak, then pretty everywhere. Some of it smells; some of it sizzles, some of it smokes. It wasn't helping with the shit situation any, though. "I suggest we go outside before we all get poisoned." The corvid suggests - with a tiniest keening caw.

Ulthan leans on his flail, and nods. "Prudent suggestion, and I doubt we can get any details of the ritual from here, but we do need to report this up as soon as possible..."

Dirk gives his beard a tug, peering at the poor unfortunate chained to the wall. "We should probably let the Vardaman church know there's a couple poor souls down here who need seein' off," he muses. "I dinnae even want tae -think- what sort o' monstrosity they'd turn into." He shudders at the thought. "Undead shitters... ergh."

Ulthan ewws at Dirk. "Do we split up, someone rushing to let the Vardamans know while the rest let the Arcanists and Explorers' guilds know the results? Although I think they'd get the wor4d fast enough...

Sjach lets the others talk a while, before he speaks up again. "We should exit here. Ssee where it emerges." he suggests to the others. "There may be more trouble. After that, return to the city and tell the Sshamans where they may recover the dead."

Crik looks around the talking party. "... Yes. Anywhere where the air is fresh, and the fallen to do not decompose." He responds to Sjach's suggestion, holding a piece of rope in his hands already.

Jarik spends some time eyeing the mechanism next to him, but very sensibly doesn't touch it. Instead he nods his agreement with Sjach's suggestion. "I think seeing where this leads out is the best idea, and then we can advise whoever is sent to retrieve the dead that they can get to them much quicker via this route, as well."

Dirk frowns dourly. "But who killed the poor souls? That's the question, innit? An' if they're callin' up ambulatory shitpiles..." He scowls at the dead poomental. "Och. Can ye imagine the chaos that'd cause, if those things got loose in the streets? We cannae have Alexandria -literally- goin' tae shit."

Ulthan says, “The smell alone would drive half the populace outside... Wait...”

Ulthan says, “The Ward? Would they want to make Alexandria so unbearable that peoplle leave the protection of the Ward?”

Dirk pauses. Sloooowly looks over to Ulthan. "Ohh, piss up my arse," he grumbles softly.

Sjach keeps his own council on whether he thinks people leaving the city would be a good thing or not, and begins padding over towards the exit leading up and to the promise of fresh air, Little Flame following at his side. He hasn't put his bow away yet, and he draws an arrow holding it loosely in case it's needed promptly, before he decides to just go ahead and try opening it.

Crik looks around the party, and then impatiently hops about, sending little unwelcoming beads of moisture around. "_I_ want to leave the protection of the ward." He says - tail threatening to ruffle, and then follows on after Sjach.