DDW: Lunch then Scouting

[Jim Roberts]

[Feb 5 – The Waterworks]

> So soon afterwards, the unconscious Forlorn Rust Monster was an
> unconscious Forlorn Painted Turtle, a longstanding favourite for
> Polymorphs. Lomi then assembled a quick sling out of a blanket she’d
> found in the monster’s nest, well capable of holding the now much
> smaller and lighter unconscious creature. This, she then presented to
> her pal Tramma.
>
> “Why me?” the silver haired bard pretended to grouse, even though she
> well knew the answer. But she didn’t mind giving her friend a chance
> to actually SAY it.
>
> “Because, Songbird,” Lomi began to explain, “you’re stronger than me,
> and will hardly notice the weight. And if you can give up whacking
> things with that stone club, you’re one of the least likely of all of
> us to need to get into a punchup. I’d probably hurt the poor thing if
> I tried firing my bow with it slung over my side. And the scent of its
> own blanket should reassure it, in case it DOES wake up.”
>
> “Fair enough, Legs,” Tramma readily agreed.

And once everything else in Crumble’s lair was secured, the Away Team
made quick work of securing the last portions of this section of the
Waterworks tunnel. As predicted by the map, a ladder climbed a nearby
wall, no doubt leading up to a hidden exit in an above ground SJE
village. NOT something that anyone wanted to tackle now; infiltrating
the above community was the Upwinders’ job.

Now that this end was secure, the Away Team backtracked their way all
the way back to the second “intersection room”, the one with the stone
bridges and the lack of standing water… or something nastier. After a
quick trip up the short ladder to the “intersection room’s” upper deck,
they were then able to proceed northwards, passing through another
obligatory valve controlled door.

Now, they truly were getting into the very depths of the Northeast
branch of the Waterworks tunnel complex. Much to Lomi’s excitement,
there were recent signs of some wandering canines; clearly the Roving
Wolves were back. But the canny wolves were not to be seen, much to the
Wild Women’s disappointment. Their pal Pilinde would have been SO happy
if they could have liberated some wolves.

There were, however, other more threatening signs than wolf scat. But…
not much more threatening. The Rickey Ratte Clubs… and that unnamed odd
glass club, did have to come out one or two more times for regular sized
oozes, but these proved to be even less threatening than the Black
Puddings on Crumble’s branch of the tunnels. And the glass club did
indeed seem to have a bit of extra potency against oozes. The much
smaller oozes and slimes seemed to particularly prefer the narrower
passages leading up to a whole collection of surface exits deeper into
the tunnels.

“Yard trash,” Lomi observed after the third ‘normal’ sized ooze was
quickly squicked. “The Upwinders had that right.”

Morning was gone, and it was time to be thinking about lunch when they
reached the northeast branch that allegedly ended in the lair of
Gnarkill, the Troll that seemed to have a “thing” about elves.

“I don’t know about anyone else,” Tramma observed, “but breakfast seems
like it was long ago. Do we press on and tackle Gnarkill on an empty
stomach? Or let His Grace bless us with his Heroes’ Feast?” Abbot Kenobi
perked up at this suggestion. He always enjoyed performing this
particular Divine Ceremony.

“An hour long ceremony,” Finfin sighed. “But… we ARE otherwise
undersupplied and need to eat and refill the few waterbottles we have,
and we avoided needing to use that time either memorizing Teleport
coordinates or backtracking to the Upwinder HQ. So we can fit it in.”

“I’ve got a coupla week’s dehydrated rations in one of my belt pouches,
I never leave camp without ‘em,” Lomi suggested. “Pricey, not made in
the settlements, but worth it; and enough for all of us.”

“We’ll need plenty of water to reconstitute them, though,” Tramma
pointed out.

“Yeah, and they’re a lot faster and better hot made with boiling water,”
the tall dark-haired ranger agreed.

“We should have thought to save all those ruined arrows and spear staves
and the wood from the chest,” Tramma sighed. “They were dry enough to
burn. Most anything else we can find down here is pretty soggy. I guess
I could fire up a prestidigitation and magic some of our water to
boiling. Takes a little while, but not as long as Heroes’ Feast. But
tasty as your fancy dehydrated rations are, Ben’s version is better, and
has lots of other benefits, too.”

Given the various tradeoffs under consideration, the Heroes’ Feast
seemed the best course of action. It would not really take that much
longer than more pedestrian actions, and had a number of additional
benefits. Not least of which was a wonderful meal – and a happy Abbot,
who always seemed to particularly enjoy this fine Belmakian ceremony.

And the elaborate service had an additional upside for those not
inclined to focus on the intricate divine service. The various Teleport
capable wizards used the protracted pause as an opportunity to study
their surroundings carefully, gaining a new destination to their lists
of possible Teleport destinations. A possible downside of this project,
however, was that the two Wild Women, Lomi and Tramma, as well as
Jeyshann were the only ones left available to make certain that none
were surprised by any arriving “yard trash”, or worse.

“Witch doctors,” Jeyshann sniffed, glaring at the trio of studying elven
wizards.

The Feast, all agreed afterwards, was well worth waiting for, and all
felt suitably fed and blessed. And certainly inspired to continue their
exploration into the deeper section of the Waterworks tunnel system.

Soon, they were near the area where Gnarkill, the suspected elf hating
Troll, was reputed to be found. Elf hating, so to speak, for living
elves; per their Upwinder data, Gnarkill had a particular affection for
elves as an entree. Or even as a light side with some fava beans and a
nice Chianti. Per their Intelligence, the Troll’s usual lair was around
the next corner, and some unknown distance down the tunnel in a
supposedly nearby larger underground space. Not, of course, that he was
often able to indulge this fondness in this location far out in the
wilds of the Kirith Plains.

This led to the entirely reasonable question of advanced intel. If they
could confirm that Gnarkill was in, the various Arcane and Divine
casters could prepare some fairly short duration spells that would
greatly benefit the team in any up and coming melee. But those spells
would be wasted if they were cast too soon. Conversely, those who could
remember the Sorceress Rae could attest to the uselessness of a
spellcaster who spent an entire battle doing nothing but invoke
defensive magics… only for the battle to be concluded before the
preparations were complete. So their effectiveness would be enhanced if
they could confirm the Troll’s presence, and a rough estimate about how
far away it might be.

Laquendi, perhaps as expected, once again stepped forward to volunteer
for this task. Finfin was not keen for what he viewed as one of the more
fragile members of their team to advance solo. But there was no denying
that they really could use this extra data, and that Laquendi’s skills
and abilities did lend themselves to this particular task.

“Do you have an option for an immediate exit?” he asked. The elven
officer quickly reconsidered his question in light of the attitudes of
the person he was addressing. “By which I do not mean suicide pills or
other extreme options?”

Laquendi reconsidered the question, given these additional constraints.
“Invisibility,” she mused. When Finfin did not seem convinced about this
spell’s utility for getting one out of a jam, she added, “And a
Teleport. Back to our recently memorised Feast location not far behind.”

Finfin nodded. That would indeed provide an option for a quick escape.
And soon, Laquendi was on her way to scout forward.

Her Darkvision, the silver haired elf knew very well, was a huge
advantage to moving about underground. However, like many advantages in
life, it too had its downside. In order to see clearly without any
external light, Laquendi herself was providing her own illumination
source. That meant that she would be actively radiating to any other
underground denizen similarly blessed with this sort of Darkvision,
appearing as a blazing beacon to any able to sense this particular form
of “light”.

But experienced underground scouts like Laquendi knew how to deal with
that particular problem. The dark elf could adjust her sight to NOT
actively radiate, and to instead simply passively detect any ambient
“light” in this part of the spectrum beyond humans and surface dwelling
elves. Of course, if there was no external “light” source, Laquendi
would be unable to see anything when “going passive”, but this did give
her a chance to detect any active radiators before they could see her.

So Laquendi carefully eased herself around the corner, limiting herself
to “passive” sight. And could see exactly… nothing. There were no heat
sources or active Darkvision users before her. Only now did Laquendi
allow her own sight to begin actively radiating. NOW she could see up to
120’ before her, as well as announcing her own presence to any passive
detectors for some considerable distance further out. But she saw and
heard exactly nothing, just as she’d hoped. She spent some time
carefully studying the path forward, committing to memory how she would
proceed. She then suppressed her active Darkvision, and in the resulting
blackness quietly advanced.

After repeating this process once or twice, she paused during her
passive detection. Ahead, she could sense that the usual Waterworks
twenty foot wide corridor was opening up into a larger space. And some
ways into that opening was an active “light” source in her passive
sight. Not a Darkvision gaze shining back at her, but something more
mundane, radiating out in all directions. About as hot as a normal fire,
or perhaps a bit hotter, with something larger nearly as warm just above
it. And her elven ears could also detect a metallic clattering from just
out of sight in the room.

Clearly, something was very much at home. Something, perhaps… cooking,
which would make sense, given Gnarkill’s reputation. And was that..
humming coming from the distant room? Showing a wisdom and restraint
that some might have believed she lacked, Laquendi decided that she had
enough scouting data to be useful, and prudently decided to return back
to the main group with what she knew.