DDW: Guck

[Jim Roberts]

[Feb 5 AM – The Waterworks]

> Shrugging, Lomi nocked the arrow, and sent it precisely into the wall
> at the updated range estimation. For a brief moment, all of the elves
> could see what Laquendi had noticed. A blob of pure darkness, nearly
> as wide as the corridor and twice as long, slithering along the
> ceiling towards them. Details were hard to make out, probably less
> because of the brief duration of its illumination, and more because
> there really did not appear to BE any details to be seen.

“Could be a lurker above?” Laquendi posited. “Or more likely, an ooze or
a pudding? Weapons out - you won't be able to if it is and drops."

“Can anyone speak to goo?” Laurelin asked.

All shook their heads. “You would need some sort of magic to speak with
monsters,” Tramma suggested. “Whatever THAT thing is.”

“And I do not believe it is speaking in any conventional language,”
Finfin added. “Or if it is, all I can hear it whispering is ‘guck’. And
regarding that comment the Foreman made about not making the Waterworks
worse by cutting oozes into pieces. I take it that is not just hyperbole?”

"We may want to use the stone clubs,” Laquendi suggested. “Blades are
notoriously ineffective against some varieties.” She was going to add a
further possibility of simply getting out of its way. But it was still
quite visible to her own Darkvision, unspoilt by the brief illumination
provided by the patron Tela of Elves. And what Laquendi could see
discouraged that notion. Hugging the wall might be enough to keep from
getting underneath it. Unless it noticed them and decided to drop down
from above. Two outcomes the dusky elf considered to be more than probable.

Jeyshann cooly inquired, “Does anyone have any notion what sort of
damage this thing might do? I can cover everyone with one spell, but I
have to know what to set it for, if it is to do any good.”

Tramma and Ben briefly conferred with Laquendi, who was clearly their
local expert on matters relating to Dungeoneering. “Likely acidic,” the
silver haired elf announced after only a moment of discussion.

“Thank you,” the Cat Priestess answered, sincerely grateful for the
information. “Now,” Jeyshann continued to the group as a whole. “Does
anyone ELSE have any way to confer a defense against Acid?”

Finfin nodded. “I could make a single person highly resistant to it. Or
even completely protected… but only for a while.”

“Pretty boy,” the Cat Priestess both sighed and seethed. “Both single
target. Does anyone have anything that could provide a GROUP defence?”

Ben shook his head. “I could confer COMPLETE immunity to any one energy
type for an entire day. But only for two individuals.”

Despite the effect not being quite what she’d asked for, even Jeyshann
looked impressed. And it is not easy to impress a cat. “Handy,” she
allowed. “But perhaps overkill for now.”

“I can provide a Mass Resist Energy,” Laurelin quietly offered.

“Now THAT is more like it!” Jeyshann enthused. “Thank you, High
Priestess. But let us also keep that one in reserve. I shall ask the
Mother of All Cats for a more basic protection.” She raised one eyebrow
and added, “Unless any object, I shall give MOST of the duration to our
pretty elf here, and the High Priestess, figuring that they should be
doing the bulk of the fighting. But I will extend the protection for
everyone.”

“Does teleport count?" Laquendi asked.

“Best save the acidic looks for the Black Nastie, sweets,” Tramma
quickly suggested to her Cat Priestess pal. So Jeyshann merely shrugged,
and began to chant in a language unknown to most, if not all… though
those with a Tongues spell could parse the meaning. It was a prayer to
the Mother of All Cats. And as Jeyshann chanted, her hands began to
weave a tapestry, or Cat’s Cradle, of blue glowing lines that lingered
in mid air. There was then a multicoloured flash as the Blessing
extended to all, and she playfully swatted each of them in turn.

By now, the inky black horror was pulling into range of elven
nightsight, courtesy of the Valyan Con Light blessing. It was only a
dozen or so seconds away from slithering directly overhead, and Finfin
looked dubiously down at the club he now held in place of his treasured
sword. Glancing towards his Ex, he asked politely, “Together? Or would
you prefer me to pull aggro, for you to support from behind?”

Gamely, Finfin stepped forward, leaving it to Laurelin to decide if she
would be staying by his side, or staying back a pace to let HIM be the
most obvious target. While he waited, Finfin gave the club a practice
swing or two, gauging its heft. It handled nothing at all like his
favoured blade… but many of the basics of hitting something would carry
over from bladework to something more basic… or almost primordial.

Tramma began to chant, dancing and waving her hands about in the very
best cheerleader fashion.

Ready? OK!
For a beat down of this ooze
I will loudly enthuse
black pudding violence I can excuse
from that you should take your cues
strike, and try hard to bruise
while I cheer with rhythm and blues!
Go, team, and the pudding abuse!

Lomi just rolled her eyes and hefted her stone club doubtfully. She was
half afraid her musical friend would try to recruit the other ladies to
form a pyramid or something rather than backing up Fin and Laurelin.

“I am always willing to let you take the first hit,” Laurelin smirked,
hefting not one but two stone clubs supplied by the helpful kobolds.

By now, Finfin was a few feet in advance of everyone else, with Laurelin
backing him up from behind. Which, not coincidentally, made HIM the most
attractive target, but he did not object. That was, in fact, the plan,
as he continued to heft his club before him, ready to use it defensively.

Thinking to herself, Laurelin silently mused, “He is indeed the most
attractive target in many ways.”

And as expected, once above the elven officer, the ooze dropped straight
down upon the elf on point.

As if she’d been waiting for her cue, Tramma shifted to song even as
Finfin stepped forward, waving her stone club in time to her singing.
More practically, Lomi hefted several chunks of rock she’d picked up off
the floor and waited for her chance to let fly at the pudding.

Now Finfin's king of the clubbers
The beatdown VIP

Not that a mindless ooze really thought about such things, but the plan
to slam into Fin and dissolve him immediately ran into problems. A club
might not be as good as a sword, in the elven officer’s opinion, but he
did know how to use it to fend off attacks, and he easily beat aside the
pseudopod that tried to mash him into elf goo. In return, Finfin
delivered a two handed beating that left several lingering dents in the
oily surface.

He's taunted that glop and made it drop
And that's what’s botherin' it

Laurelin was only a musical beat or two behind, and whirled in to hammer
both clubs into the inky blackness of the pudding.

Pudding wants to eat an elf, man
And gobble him right down

Now Ben weighed in, stepping forward while gripping his vintage Rickey
Ratte Club in both hands. He had seen what the elven officer had done to
the goats with a judicious use of strength. Now, it was HIS turn, and he
unleashed an almighty chop that fairly splattered a large portion of the
offending ooze. But the ooze soldiered on.

Dissolve 'im just like other victims
Pudding's gettin' a big letdown!

Laquendi and Tramma were right beside him, the bard of course trying to
swing in time to her singing. Neither of them were hitting as hard as
the three stalwarts, but the pudding was looking considerably less
lively when they finished.

Oh, ooh-bee-doo, (Oop-dee-wee)
I wanna whomp like you (cheep)

Lomi was just shaking her head in resignation, but she gamely chucked
her chunks of rock at the subsiding pool of acidic goo. All three
skilled shots sunk deep into the quivering ebony gunk, and as the chunks
of masonry came to a quivering halt the whole expanse of shimmying black
oil oozed into relaxation. It was hard to be sure, but it looked like
they had successfully ended the black pudding.

Pound like you (cheep)
To-o-oo! (Wee-bee-dee-bee-dee-boo)

There was a lingering moment of deadly silence as the ooze lost all
cohesion. In slow motion, it flowed from an animated ooze into a huge,
amorphous pile of jelly that slowly continued to liquify. Now, there was
a disturbing gurgling “guck” noise as large portions of it began to
drain away, never to be seen again.

Pools of dead ooze, however, remained in puddles at various spots on the
uneven flagstones. And on one of the larger puddles, a ring of rippling
waves began to spread out. Just as the more sensitive among the crew
could feel an ominous vibration rumbling from below. Not in a cadence
like footsteps, but something rather more even… a continuous rumble that
was slowly getting stronger.