Tinier Problem Parts 5, 6, 7, 8
Having recently had a brush with some hideous mold creatures within the odd structure that's been revealed to be beneath the farm, you're soon able to get some extra help while guards are posted outside. The GUild seems...concerned about 'plant monsters', as if that's been a thing lately.
(It has.)
Thus, the Alexandrian militia has arrived with some fresh faces for you to secure the farm, and let you return to exploring it after a short rest.
The poor farmer can't be happy about this.
Razen grins at the others, a little vague on the details, but happy to be here. The half orc offers a wave to those that he recognizes and his name to the others with the offer of a handshake then he stays to the back for now; willing for the moment to follow the others with greater experience into what had been detailed only as a 'pest problem'.
Tamrielo returns the next morning, quietly fresh-faced as ever. Especially now that the city is involved and this is more than a simple investigation, he's definitely excited. This is An Adventure and he is Here For It.
He's washed the tunic and boots, though, and is sporting different pants. Probably will never wear those other pants again after what they've been through.
He spends a lot of time idly sketching while waiting for others to catch up, and has availed himself of an apple from somewhere.
Lorik wasn't sure about how the crossbow would work. But for the record? He is very happy with it. Now that he's back. With reinforcements even, the shadow elf looks quite pleased actually.
"...this is strange. Is there really an upsurge of /plant/ monsters lately?" He asks no one in particular as he glances at the notes from the Guild.
Iskandar does indeed recognize Razen. "Good to have you with us!" he booms. Then his gaze is drawn to the half-orc's feet. "Hope you're not too fond of those boots!" he repeats. Iskandar's own sandalled feet - and probably most if not all of the rest the party - are covered in bits of crushed bugs.
Kaelthilas seems pleased by the opportunity for respite. His pleasure expressed by a terse debriefing with the ranking officer and then time spent away from the bulk of the reinforcements. When the movement of the sun has properly demarked the appointed hour, he returns.
Dressed in burnished scale and plate the dawn elf musters with the rest of the group.
Kaelthilas accepts Razen's hand in a gloved shake though quickly withdraws his appendage, "The area beneath the farm is infested," the elf explains to any whom make themselves present, "Roaches. A giant spider, and," looking to Lorik for confirmation, "Some creature comprised of mold. The militia has arrived because this matter has gone beyond the simple slaughter of cattle by insects. The spread of corruption throughout this region would be tantamount to salting the farmland and bringing starvation to the populace who depends upon its fertile crop."
"That's right," replies one of the guardsmen to Lorik. "Been a bunch of them in Alexandria. Always with a coin left behind with the face of the Witch Queen."
/You/ did fine old coins inside the workshop below and they DID have an image of a rather scary lookin' lady on them.
Tamrielo flips back a few pages in his sketchbook/tome, holding up a drawing of one of the interior room tables with a small stack of coins on it. "These coins? Witch Queen?"
Razen stares at the guardsman who spoke intently for a moment, then at the sketch which Tamrielo provides. No sharp teeth. No wicked grin. He relaxes and rubs his hand over the hilt of his heavy flail. "Whatever that is, I say we avoid it and kill what we can. I have no interest in those... coins."
Iskandar says, "So this farm is connected to something even bigger?" His face lights up. "Then maybe it's up to us to put a stop to it!"
"It seems so," replies a guardsman to Iskandar, the one who'd spoken before.
"At the very least you might put us a step closer.'
He nods to Tamrielo! "Yeah, I'd say. Looks like the coins." He adjusts his ill fitting mail shirt.
Back down you go. Back through the barn and down through a space where you've lifted the wooden floor up to find an earthen (and squishy. And bug filled) passage to a door, a door which you go through which leads you down a narrow tunnel to what appears to be another room full of bugs, dead ones, artifice, a metal platform where those who were here previously fought the weird light-spider thing, and then through that to the workshop where you fought the mold things ands found the coins. There is another door here that you need to get past, of course.
<OOC> Tamrielo says, "Tam will take a closer look at this door, for locks and, well, traps." <OOC> Tamrielo says, "...with Detect Magic, given the last door." <OOC> Whirlpool says, "Roll perception, Tam" GAME: Tamrielo rolls Perception: (7)+9: 16 GAME: Lorik rolls perception: (9)+10: 19 GAME: Razen rolls Perception: (4)+6: 10 GAME: Kaelthilas rolls perception: (4)+10: 14
To our eyes, this door seems less trapped than the last! This, of course, is never reassuring. You may simply not be seeing the runes.
Hesitantly Razen moves forward. "Looks safe enough. We could open it." He's more cautious about just opening doors these days.
Back into the pit.
Kaelthilas trudges with the group through the bugs, muck, and mire back to the workshop. As it had previously been picked through he seemingly ignores the bric-a-brac and finds himself with the rest of the group before a door.
"Hrm," the elf intones thoughtfully standing guard nearby as the other pair make their inspection. He is otherwise quiet for their inspection but predicts that a third set of eyes moving over the door in detail would be without great help. So instead he says things like, "What about the hinges," or, "I once encountered a door jam that was trapped."
Without having helped them to find a thing. This seems to satisfy the elf whom pushes into their midst and then reaches for the handle. He gives it a try but the thing seems locked to which he helpfully observes, "It's locked," to them all, "With time I can break the lock," the dawn elf says no doubt going to make use of the enchanted blade he carries, "but if anyone else has the delicate skill needed to force it open."
Have at it.
GAME: Tamrielo rolls Disable Device: (6)+8: 14 <OOC> Whirlpool says, "Okay, Tam! Ref save!" GAME: Tamrielo rolls Reflex: (20)+6: 26 (CRITICAL SUCCESS)
Tamrielo produces a small set of tools from... somewhere, and sets to the lock. Several moments of quiet clicking and tapping ensue, as he frowns into the small opening. This continues for a moment until a slightly different click makes him pause, a sound like a match lighting.
"Hm? Oh."
He leans to one side and drops both hands, frown deepening, as a jet of flame erupts from the lock, passing bare inches from his face. He blinks, then looks up at the group, completely deadpan.
"I think we missed one."
"Does that also mean that you have unlocked it?" Kaelthilas asks his gold-flecked eyes examining the precision lock with disdain.
Iskandar looks surprised for a moment, then smiles broadly. "Missed one. Yes! Nice one!" He gives Tam a comradery slap on the back and then approaches the door. "Is everyone ready?" he asks before trying the door.
Kaelthilas nods to Iskandar. The elf is prepared.
Razen steps slightly to the side, wary of the door more than before. Also he pulls his bearskin from his shoulders, just in case.
With the trap dispensed, Tamrielo is able to finish the lock and Iskandar is soon able to open the door!
Frigging doors. They're the worst thing, right?
In any case, this leads down a tunnel that's about fifteen feet long before it descends into a set of stairs.
Tamrielo tucks his tools into whatever hidden pocket they came from, and folds his hands in his tunic sleeves. Because it's a little chilly down here. Not because they're shaking slightly. It's cold. They're cold.
Stone carved here, those stairs, though the walls are planked with wood.
Lorik jumps as the flame jets out and his eyes widen. "Yes," He agrees as he peers around the others, eyeing the smoking trapped door warily. "It seems you did..."
But then the door seems to swing open and there is a sigh from the shadow elf, one of relief this time. "But that seems to have been the last of it." A longer pause. "And...worked stone steps? This doesn't look like gobber work I don't think..." There is a glance towards Kael and Tam before he gives a reassuring grin. Or one that he hopes is at least, before nodding firmly. "Well this is what we are here for. Lets see whats down there."
Taking the lead Razen heads down the stairs after offering to do so. Nerves put his hand on the hilt of his weapons, his eyes dark and glittering in the dimness. He keeps his eyes sharp for movement in particular, and hopes that nothing else will be trapped.
GAME: Kaelthilas rolls perception: (20)+10: 30 GAME: Tamrielo rolls Perception: (17)+9: 26 GAME: Razen rolls Perception: (1)+6: 7 (EPIC FAIL)
Iskandar has been trying to keep to the front of the group but finds himself overtaken by the newcomer. Rather than try to push forward he unslings his bow and readies an arrow. "Kael, you were right about the spider. After a fashion. What do you think we might encounter next?"
GAME: Iskandar rolls perception: (11)+8: 19 GAME: Lorik rolls perception: (5)+10: 15 GAME: Iskandar rolls reflex: (7)+6: 13 GAME: Razen rolls Reflex: (3)+3: 6 GAME: Lorik rolls reflex: (12)+5: 17 GAME: Tamrielo rolls Strength: (7)+0: 7 GAME: Fabris rolls perception: (1)+5: 6 (EPIC FAIL)
Kaelthilas holds a torch aloft so that they all can see.
Iskandar's question coaxes a response from the dawn elf. The immortal's voice a dulcet tenor in contrast to the oppression of darkness and stone which seemingly crowds them as they descend, "Roaches. Spiders. Abominations of moss and mold. Dark coin. Perversions of Dana. A follower of the Dread Wolf, Caracoroth. Perhaps of Taara who would delight in both the perversion and the coin."
"A dark priest of sorts," Kael determines, "with intellect enough to forge tunnel and trap.."
<<click>>
As if on cue the dawn elf's body tenses and as the stairs fold he moves with a sylvan grace. Hurling torch down into the chamber below he flattens himself against the wall allowing others to slide past as he balanced precariously upon the balls of his feet.
GAME: Whirlpool rolls 2d6: (8): 8 GAME: Fabris rolls ref: (8)+6: 14 GAME: Lorik rolls strength: (4)+0: 4
Tamrielo hears the click and moves quickly, shifting his weight and recentering as the stairs tilt under his feet. It's a delicate bit of maneuvering, the small half-sil apparently possessing a dancer's grace. There's a brief, half-smile of pride as he manages not to fall and even make not-falling look good.
This is, of course, somewhat ruined by the giantborn, fully twice his size, slamming into him from behind. The sound the bard emits on impact is somewhere between a rapidly deflating balloon and a squeak, like punching a rubber duck.
GAME: Kaelthilas rolls strength: (16)+3: 19
Fabris is surprisingly graceful for a dwarf -- at least, he catches himself, or at least tries to.
A /click/ it always starts with a click.
Lorik's ears twitch as the floor smooths out and flattens. The shadow elf slips to one side, clinging to the wall with one hand as he clutches his crossbow with the other.
Once more he is very thankful for the upgrades he got...
...and then the rest of the party behind him slams into him and he shoots down the stairway regardless.
"KAEL! HEADS UP!"
...so, needless to say, moving down the stairs when they suddenly turn into a sliding ramp doesn't make things easy. Razen disappears down into a pit that appears to've opened up at the bottom of the steps because there's ALWAYS a pit at the bottom of th4ese things, right?
But everyone else is being held up, aside from Fabris at this point, by Kael bracing himself against the walls.
Fabris looks at the human centipede in front of him, and asks politely. "Does anyone have any rope I can grab? I might be able to climb up and find an anchor point, then hand you the rope."
Tamrielo , sandwiched in between at least two rather larger people, is unable to communicate much other than sad rubber duck sounds.
Razen feels his feet slip out from under him, the floor suddenly no longer stairs at all. There is no chance for him to catch his footing, and he simply slides down into the darkness... And falls. And falls a bit more. Suddenly he lands heavily amid some spikes, and he can see a small circular pit full of more of them. With effort he gets to his feet, hoping that he might be able stop anyone else from joining him amid the sharp metal. "Is everyone okay up there? Hello?!?"
Iskandar slips and begins to fall, but comes to a stop. It only takes him a moment to realize why. He reaches out gingerly to try and brace himself as well. "We're okay. Mostly," he corrects a moment later. "What's down there?"
In a maneuver that would make his ancestors proud, Kaelthilas stems their descent into darkness. Long brawny arms quiver as he manages to hold their position upon the stairs the strain of the maneuver slowly presenting upon his countenance as smooth features moisten with strain. Without the torch his struggle might certainly be missed by those not adept at seeing in the dark.
"Busy," is Kael's single word reply to the call from below. Eye close and he inhales sharply and bit by bit he feels the pressure upon him slack as the others find unsteady footing upon the slope.
There he exhales, "but before the dark priest," Kaelthilas continues his earlier thought, "I predict we shall find more traps," a hint of levity to his voice.
The pit is, unfortunately, big enough that you can't just edge around if it you can right yourself towards the bottom of the stairs. It's kinda designed to stop that kinda thing!
Razen says, "Spikes and a long fall" Razen looks around for anything helpful, but there simply is not much around here. "I do not suggest you join me. I do not think there is any way out of here."
Tamrielo wheezes and exchanges a look with Lorik, the only person remotely close to his size, then looks up... and up... at Iskandar. "Remind me to teach you to dance, sometime." He grins, a bit lopsidedly.
"Your predictions are, as usual, flawless." Lorik's tone is dry and amused as he reaches out to pick out his own handholds, trying to take the pressure off of Kael as the party of adventurers unties themselves from the tangle of limbs they nearly became.
"These traps are well hidden." He adds after a moment. "I didn't see a hint of anything."
"Just hold tight Razen! We'll get a rope to you when we have something to anchor with."
GAME: Iskandar rolls athletics: (12)+6: 18 GAME: Fabris rolls athletics: (7)+7: 14 GAME: Lorik rolls Athletics: (11)+4: 15 GAME: Tamrielo rolls Athletics: (16)+0: 16
Iskandar readies himself and then flings himself into the air above the pit, arms windmilling slowly and legs spread as if he's in mid-stride. One sandaled foot lands on the edge of the opposite site, and he's just able to shift his weight forward and bring the other foot a step ahead, and then he's across, breathing hard from the effort. Once the others have joined him he lowers a length of rope for Razen.
Making his way down to the bottom of the slide wasn't that bad, getting across it? That is more difficult. However Lorik is game to try. It is a good thing that he left his brestplate at home this time as that might have weighed him down.
As it is though, his leap sends him across the pit, where he lands with a crouch on the other side, watchful of the others as they start the process of recovering their Barbarian.
Tamrielo eyes the pit, then heads up the stairwell a bit and lets himself slide down before leaping off the end, letting his momentum carry him over the hole. He's a touch pudgy for a half elf, but he manages to pull this off, standing almost performatively at the other side. He makes an effort to hide his own surprised look and act like he meant it.
Fabris leaps, stubby dwarf legs propelling him with questionable grace across the gap. He does land, though, on the other side, then makes to start anchoring the rope behind Iskandar. After all, he weighs as much as the giantborn in a smaller, denser volume.
Razen watches the others sail overhead without falling prey to the spikes he found so unfortunately. One after the other they make it safely, and when the last one finally lands, Iskandar is there with a rope to help him up the side of the walls that kept him penned in. With the other's aid it is easy for him to make it to the top where he can breathe a little easier.
There is another problem, of course. The stairs (which you notice now have a light oily sheen) have not reverted.
This could be a bit of a problem when trying to get out. Indeed, as you observe, the oily sheen is thickening and flowing over it steadily.
Lovely.
That leaves the way ahead. Careful for more traps -- not that you've had much luck finding them so far -- you proceed further down the tunnel into the increasingly older looking stone. There's another door, but...
This one ain't trapped and you're able to open it. It appears to be... a Garden.
---
GAME: Razen rolls Perception: (8)+6: 14 GAME: Tamrielo rolls Perception: (17)+9: 26 GAME: Soup rolls Perception: (9)+3: 12 GAME: Elin rolls Perception: (17)+8: 25 GAME: Lorik rolls perception: (14)+10: 24 GAME: Azra rolls perception: (15)+1: 16
GOOD NEWS, EVERYONE!
You've gone down the hallway aways and are staring into the wondrously verdant and overgrown garden when you hear it. The loud 'thnk', like something dropping into a slot. It's the second part of the trap you triggered previously, it seems. Something is happening...
In any case, there's a garden. That's progress, right? RIGHT!
Garden? Well thats good. Lorik lowers the crossbow slightly as he starts to smile. "This is kind of nice. I didn't expect anything like this...its impressive that someone go--" The shadow elf pauses a moment though mid sentence as his eyes grow wide.
"...something is happening. Something is coming down from the other side...I can hear something rolling..."
His crossbow snaps up again as he aims towards the noise as he takes a step or two off the path.
She is back up with the group and is looking into the garden when she hears a sound. She raises her head, tilting it slightly as she listens. "Maybe we move," she suggests, looking at the path before trying to push herself off it.
Tamrielo looks startled and concerned at about the same time Lorik does. "Get out of the way!" he suggests, dropping into Bard Voice while gesturing ahead and above with a complicated gesture. A eye-catching, brightly-colored arrow appears in the air for a moment, pointing where the sound is coming from.
Razen is loathe to run into a place that he knows nothing about, but the 'something is rolling' is bringing to mind that slippery slope he'd fallen down. It brings to mind the idea of rolling stones coming to crush them. So he follows Tamrielo's wise advice and runs as fast as he can down the hallway into the garden, heading for one of the sides which will perceivably keep him out from under any boulders that are headed in his direction.
GAME: Razen rolls Reflex: (3)+3: 6 <OOC> INeedCoffeePool says, "lol oh no xD" GAME: Razen rolls Athletics: (6)+6: 12 GAME: Azra rolls Reflex: (13)+4: 17 GAME: Azra rolls Athletics: (8)+6: 14 <OOC> Elin was trying to run too, so GAME: Elin rolls Reflex: (13)+2: 15 GAME: Elin rolls Athletics: (12)+6: 18 GAME: Lorik rolls reflex: (14)+5: 19 GAME: Lorik rolls athletics: (10)+4: 14 GAME: Tamrielo rolls athletics: (15)+0: 15
You has the right idea, really. Running into the garden does let you split up on either side of the boulder when it arrives.... if you're fast enough.
Unfortunately, Tam And Razen are not quite quick enough and are left on the other side of it when the boulder arrives, rolling right towards the door way and leaving them little choice but to run away from it. Stopping it with brute force, given its size, may be possible but risky. Given that it seems designed to roll down the tunnel you were starting to emerge from, and to fill said tunnel at the end of which is a pit and a slide....
GAME: Razen rolls Strength: (10)+4: 14 GAME: Azra rolls Strength: (13)+3: 16 GAME: Azra rolls +3: (7)++3: 10 GAME: Tamrielo rolls strength: (17)+0: 17 GAME: Lorik rolls strength: (14)+0: 14
Suddenly, it becomes clear Razen isn't going to be getting out of the way of the boulder. Cursing, Azra and her bird look at one another. They exchange a rapid fire conversation, sharp screehing juxtaposed against swift spates of language either too accented or too foreign for most to follow. She does have quite the accent. Then the two of them dash into the middle of the garden, both bracing to help catch the boulder. "...Help!"
Tamrielo sees Razen rush forward and his face breaks out into a wide grin. He rushes forward, tiny, slightly pudgy half-sil body following the much more obviously-in-shape half-orc.
Lorik is an archer at heart. He's not built for front line combat. However at the shout of help the shadow elf's eyes widen and he turns to change direction, scrambling after Azra. "Come on! We can move it to make sure it doesn't get anyone!"
Oh god this is going to smart.
Elin roars as the boulder passes her and springs out from where she'd gotten to. She practically tries to bear-hug the thing; even she's not big enough to do that, but she wraps her arms as far around it as she can and digs her heels in, the muscles in her bare arms and half-bared legs straining as she tries to break the entire mass of the boulder without being rolled up and over it and smashed into the ceiling and then the floor.
Running... He knows he's not fast enough. And Tamrielo is right beside him. One or both of them might not make it with that thing behind them, so he stops. Steadies his feet on the ground and braces. Gets ready to push and hope that they survive this. He roars to Angoron for strength.
You throw several people at a giant rock, one of them a frigging giantborn, and you can stop it. Eventually. It helps that it lodges in the doorway, more or less, once you've slowed it down enough rather than crashing it. That lets Razen and Tam put their backs into it and push it back into the garden proper. At least they didn't have to jump into the spike put for cover.
That said, you're now in the garden proper. Verdant and in no way capable of growing here, honestly, given the lack of sunlight. Hell, the lack of ANY light. It looks like a rather wild collection of plants, like stepping into a forest underground, made of bushes and shrubs and mossy vines and more.
The boulder, is, thankfully, able to be rolled off to the side and placed against a wall where it's out of the way.
Lorik breathes a long sigh as the rock slows to a stop and slowly breathes out a long sigh as he lets his back rest against the stone and slowly slides down to sit down. "Well that was exciting." The shadow elf says slowly as he glances back towards the rest of the garden. "...who put this here..." He murmurs. "...growing this much green underground takes a lot of magic. Especially keeping it all this...green..." A longer pause. "...and we should keep an eye out for traps."
Elin seems at a loss for what to do with the boulder once it's stopped. Her surge of strength, while impressive, isn't something she can sustain; it's a lot easier to push around when it doesn't have all the momentum behind it, of course, but it took a lot out of her.
She pushes it against the wall where, if it rolls, it won't do so very quickly - and /then/ rests against the wall for a moment, catching her breath. "I thought some plants grew underground," she says. "Those are mostly mushrooms, though, aren't they?"
Razen looks around at the plants with interest but caution. "Whatever they are I doubt that they are... friendly. They could be as much a trap as anything else down here."
"Nothing is ever friendly," Azra mutters. She eyes a bottle of alchemical fire, then the plants, and back. Gauging her next move vaguely discreetly.
GAME: Lorik rolls survival+1: (11)+9+1: 21 GAME: Razen rolls Survival: (8)+8: 16 GAME: Azra rolls survival: (3)+6: 9 GAME: Azra rolls 5: (20)+5: 25
Some exploration required.
It's not fun, what, exploring a bizarre underground garden full of oddities. It isn't too long before you identify that there's no obvious trail, and frankly, some of these plants look entirely too pretty to the point where it ought to be concerning! Those vibrant colors, tose prickly thorns!
Still, you can slowly make progress through it, across it, to the other side of the room. Starting to, anyway, find your way there without getting tripped up on any vines. It's not that there are 'paths' so much as natural growths that do leave routes through that don't disturb the plants too much. The air is thick with pollen, however, and should you be allergic your eyes are probably watering and we don't even wanna talk about your nose. Ugh. You're getting closer to the center of the room by nature of moving through it. It's pretty large here.
A wall of thorns and brambles seems to've cut you off.
Elin knows a fair bit about tracking and surviving in harsh terrain... but not *this* terrain, which seems largely new to her. She is careful not to step on anything that looks delicate, which occasionally leaves her looking a little like a bull in a china shop.
She steps before she runs into the wall of thorns and brambles. "I can cut it," she says, though she sounds a little doubtful. Not because she doesn't think she can cut it, but because she doesn't really want to use her sword on /vines/. C'mon, where's the glory in that?
Razen laughs and grins at Elin. "Better you than I with this." He motions toward the heavy flail on his hip. He has other weapons of course, but none which are better suited to the task than that one. "I have no idea what it is though. It might be poisonous or something. Has anyone any idea?" Razen glances around.
Iskandar walks up to the wall and rubs his bearded chin in thought. "It's at times like this that I wish I carried an axe!" he announces to no one in particular. Then he backs away. "But perhaps we should try one part. If this is another form of trap..."
"Before you do..." Lorik says towards Elin before Razen comes in and the shadow elf nods. "Yes that. If anyone knows what these are? They are obviously not natural...but...I mean the way this all sprung up. This is definitely feeling like a trap."
Elin shrugs. "No idea," she says. "Vines. I haven't seen them before."
Well, she tried.
Razen clasps Elin on the shoulder. "If you have a spare weapon, then I will aid you in this. At least then you need not face the danger alone."
Elin reaches behind her and pulls out - a pair of hatchets. She offers one toward Razen. "Nobody uses my sword but me," she says, "but if you /really/ want to help clear it, there are axes."
Once the weapons are distributed (or not) she draws her bigger, chopping-er falchion. Gripping it with both hands, she attempts to carve into the vines, letting the hand axers clear the hole her bigger weapon opens.
Iskandar accepts a hatchet gratefully. He bounces and turns it back and forth in one hand to get an idea of the balance. Next he selects his spot, placing his gloved hand against a vine to hold it in place so that he can chop with the hatchet, doing his best to not let it hit the wall behind for fear of chipping the blade.
...cut, cut, cut the stupid brambles!
That works well enough for the moment and you begin making your way through them. it works, it works.
... though some pollen does get in the air, it works. Soon, you find yourself squeezed through the gap you've created with your axes and blades. Looks like it's some kind of circular bramble wall, like a fence around something in particular, now that you think about it. Of course, now you're on the other side, and after a few steps, the brambles automatically seal up behind you.
Uh oh.
Razen offers the hand-axe back to its proper owner and readies himself for what at this point feels like an inevitable attack. "Anyone see anything give a shout." His gray eyes slip around the area they've been let inside.
"...well...that is unfortunate. Not /unexpected/ but unfortunate..." Lorik mutters as the hedgerows close behind them. "But at least we know they can be cut though!" He calls out as he moves forwards again. "Lets keep looking for a trail though. We need to find our way though this mess so we can get to the bottom of all this. And /stop/ it." A longer pause. "Or turn off the traps at least."
Elin cleans off her falchion on a scrap of cloth before she puts it away. The axes too, though she doesn't spend as much time on them; they're not /her/ weapon the way the sword is.
Elin is not worried about the barrier closing up. They opened it once; they can do it again. "Both," she says, to Lorik. "Definitely both."
Iskandar returns his borrowed axe as well. Once his hands are free, he dusts them off. "Hard to believe that a farm overrun by a plague of insects, could lead us to this." He shrugs and then continues brightly. "Well, nothing for it I suppose. I'll go first!"
Fabris forms up, brushing off his sleeves. "Let's go, then." He also seems unconcerned with the hedgerow. "Forward." He steps to Iskandar's shoulder and gets ready to match actions to words.
...and then you go!
Forward.
You've entered an area that's.... somewhat free of brambles, actually, but that's because the floor here is mossy and spongy and uncomfortable to walk on. It feels like at any moment you can just fall through it. Squish squish squish squish squish.
And then you see it, a rather thick stock that stretches up towards the ceiling, spider webbing its way across the stone above you. It's pulsing rhythmically with a life of its own. This fungal pillar seems to be breathing spores into the air. Spores you've probably been unknowingly breathing in.
Iskandar tilts his head up, slowly. Just as slowly he slips his bow off of where it's slung over his back and brings it down, nocking an arrow. "Does anyone..." he begins, "...have any idea what that is?"
"I'm going to guess 'bad' is what it is." Lorik says as he frowns at the spire of fungus. "I have a distinct feeling that we are going to need to see a healer after this too. Just to make sure." A longer pause. "This might be what has been keeping this area alive?"
Fabris starts wrapping a scarf around his face. "I have no idea what that is, but I agree," he nods to Lorik. "It seems like a likely candidate."
Razen stares up at the thing, totally disconcerted. It's entirely unnerving this thing. Unnatural in a way that speaks to the very heart of his instincts. He'd have bet good money that it was magical in some way. "Whatever it is... Shooting it might be a bad idea. What if it spills more of that... stuff on us?" He follows Fabris's lead and lifts the arm of his bear fur to cover his mouth.
GAME: Lorik rolls Knowledge/Dungeoneering+1: (14)+6+1: 21 GAME: Azra rolls knowledge/dungeoneering: (3)+6: 9
Lorik pauses as he glowers at the spire before he breathes a deep sigh. Well. He /would/ breathe a deep sigh if he wasn't wrapping part of his tunic around his mouth and nose as a makeshift filter.
"I've heard of these things. Something like it was making duplicates of people. What its doing here I don't know...but...chooping it down would work. Though the spores are a danger. Fire is also an option but..." He gestures to the setup. "...the clearing around it seems almost like its /asking/ to be set on fire with how the place is laid out. Its a natural clearing to stop the fire spreading. And that seems pretty coincidental. Which...I don't really like."
A frown again.
"We can get someone to chop a hole in the thorn wall, and /then/ chop this down. Anyone have a way to do that from range though?"
Razen pauses and then grins broadly beneath his bear fur. "Actually. I do." He pulls out a long spiked chain from beneath his heavy tabard and lets it clink to the ground. "We can wrap this around the base and pull it taunt with some rope. Then when we're ready we just give it a jerk... And down comes the plant."
Fabris holds up two flasks, speaking through his scarf. "I brought some alchemist's fire." He tries not to sound too eager.
Tamrielo worriedly pulls his hood up and undoes some piece of the outside, which folds neatly over his mouth. It's meant to conceal his face, but does a pretty good job of becoming a makeshift filter. "I also have some alchemist's fire left, should we need it." he comments absently, hands already sketching the room, the stalk, and really anything that hadn't already been sketched. He's added quite a few new sketches over the past couple of days.
With some time spent tying the ropes, knotting it, wrapping the chain and more, you eventually pull back to the brambles and begin hacking back through them. This takes time as well, but you're ready to throw the alchemist's fire.
You do.
WHOOOSH!
The pillar is now on fire! That's greast! There's definitely a satisfying feeling as you observe the fire crawl up the side of the fungal pillar and make the thing go ablaze in its own right. With thatr, you start your escape.
...but then there's a sound. A rather hideous growl and a crashing sound as something seems to've sensed what you did.
As you make your run for it (go go go!) the ground around you shakes once and you get the distinct sense something is chasing you.
Oh, hi. That's a a big old thing, isn't it? It comes into view.
The shape is definitely something that would chill any adventurer to the bone. With great wings and a lengthy, powerful looking body, the silhouette is that of a dragon.
Except its... made of fungus. And it's coming straight for you.
---
When last we left our heroes, they had detonated the fungal spire in the center of the 'garden' and began to run outta there.
Only now, they are apparently being pursued by a... rather large.... fungal... dragon.
At least, that is perhaps the most ap description of it. It has a wingspan, but it's made of plant matter. Snout, also plant matter. It goes on like that from head to toe. It appears entirely made of vegetation.
And it's coming right after you ,smashing its way through the garden.
Razen can't help but gape backwards at the monstrosity. Thick chain clinks in his hands as he hoists it around his waist like a belt and cinches it. Spikes turning it into a belt for the moment. There is no way that he can outrun the thing, the fire perhaps, but not the fire and the strange creature formed of plants. They'd have to kill it, and some not-so-small part of Razen is glad. Glad to meet this thing in combat. A slow grin spreads from ear to ear and the barbarian hefts his heavy flail into two hands and roars at it as it charges toward them.
Iskandar can't believe he used his last flask of acid against the slimes earlier (or were thise oozes - so hard to keep track sometimes). He raises his bow and sets an arrow to the string. "Does anyone remember a small doorway or narrow tunnel? Some place we can go where that won't fit?!"
Well. That did not work as intended.
Or well. It did. Sort of. Just the dragon was not part of the plans.
/Fungus/ /Dragon/.
Lorik just stares of a long moment. "Well. Um. Didn't see that one coming. Did anyone else see that one coming?" The shadow elf asks at large as he tears his crossbow from his back and charges the weapon as he starts to retreat across the garden. "I /do/ think we made it mad though!"
That seems extremely accurate at this. "I didn't see one!" He shouts at Iskandar. "But the ramp up in the most narrow section. Just have to get over the pit trap!"
Tamrielo hadn't looked back while running, but does as he sees people looking around. He instantly regrets it. This isn't some angry noble, or some town guards, or even some irate archmagi professors. This is an actual deadly creature that he can't charm or bluff his way past... and yet, the people around him are readying for a fight. A hand brushes the massive tome at his hip, the one he's barely touched this entire time. His eyes go slightly glassy and he gets a faraway look, even as he doesn't stop running. He's following the rest of the group, almost on autopilot.
Good news, everyone!
The dragon roars!
Well, kinda. It opens its mouth and nothing comes out but it's TRYING to roar.
GAME: Tamrielo spends ONE use of BARDIC PERFORMANCE.
And the dragon comes.
Lorik's eyes widen as he charges, and the shadow elf murmurs a swift prayer to his goddess. The prayer isn't an idle one though, as holy radiance blossoms into being around his favored weapon even as he leaps over a hedge to get out of the way of the charge of the fungus creature.
GAME: Iskandar rolls weapon1-6: (1)+8+-6: 3 (EPIC FAIL)
Tamrielo continues running, but slowly pulls the big tome open and produces a pen with faintly glowing ink. He starts to write in the book, his voice mirroring his writing and flowing outward. His words are resonant, and carry just a bit further than they probably should.
Discretion, often, is real smart. Of Valor, 'tis the better part, But now we see a hero's heart, As monstrous battle 'ere we start.
GAME: Lorik refreshes spells. GAME: Lorik casts Flames of the Faithful. Caster Level: 4 DC: 15
As Tamrielo speaks, the great plant-dragon turns and looks at him and then begins to lurch that way. Apparently, it's drawn to sound. It's too slow to really catch up with him /and/ do something,m but it's mostly of the way there now, far too close to the bard for his own comfort no doubt.
Iskandar fires an arrow that sails in a wobbly arc over the dragon without even coming close. Perhaps the reason for the poor shot (or so Iskandar tells himself) is that Iskandar is moving, trying to cut off the dragon from catching Tamrielo.
GAME: Razen RAGES!, gaining +2 to melee attack/damage/Will saves and 6 temporary HP GAME: Razen rolls weapon7: (8)+10: 18 GAME: Razen rolls 1d10+8: (3)+8: 11
Razen watches the dragon turn aside toward Tam and charges the beast, allowing the heat of battle to roll over him and smashes his mace into the side of the beast with both hands. He roars at it again, trying to get it's attention away from the other man.
GAME: Azra rolls weapon1+1-2: (5)+8+1+-2: 12 GAME: Azra rolls weapon1+1-2: (2)+8+1+-2: 9 GAME: Fabris rolls 1d20+7: (7)+7: 14
Tamrielo continues speaking while writing in the book, glowing pen leaving glowing letters and resonant voice carrying.
"A nasty beast, but we're the stronger, Fear not, friends, we shall last longer. "
At the last word of his sentence, he moves, dropping low and moving quietly while flourishing a piece of fleece. There's an eye-watering blur, and a second Tam dashes off in a different direction, both away from the dragon-thing.
Fabris screws up his courage, and plunges in. Well, he at least enters the fray, blade shining. That said, there is a difference between wanting to stab the fungal dragon and actually doing so. He's working on bridging that gap right now.
GAME: Lorik rolls weapon9+1+1-2: (11)+9+1+1+-2: 20 GAME: Lorik rolls weapon9+1+1-2: (13)+9+1+1+-2: 22 GAME: Lorik rolls 1d10+1d6+1: (10)+(1)+1: 12 GAME: Lorik rolls 1d10+1d6+1: (3)+(2)+1: 6 GAME: Azra rolls weapon8+4+1: (6)+6+4+1: 17 GAME: Azra rolls (1d8+6)x2: ((6)+6)x2: 6 GAME: Whirlpool rolls 1d20+15: (8)+15: 23 GAME: Azra rolls ride+4: (3)+7+4: 14 GAME: Whirlpool rolls 2d6+6: (2)+6: 8 GAME: Iskandar rolls weapon2-6+1+2: (7)+8+-6+1+2: 12 GAME: Azra rolls 1d20+7: (12)+7: 19 GAME: Azra rolls 1d6+4: (6)+4: 10
Iskandar balls up a fist and holds out his bow to one side. He bounces slightly on his foot, ready to jerk back or dodge. His blow bounces harmlessly off the monster's hide. "Down here!" he calls, hoping to draw the dragon's attention.
The second blow that Razen makes merely bounces off the creature's plant matter with a wet splotch that even he can tell does nothing to it.
GAME: Fabris rolls 1d20+10: (2)+10: 12
Fabris is distracting, looking for an opening with his stabby sword. Can he /find/ an opening? No.
The gigantic bird rears up and spreads his wings with a flourish, screeing throatily as he comes to a stop. Wings beat the air, creating a draft and sending up dust from around them. "You're right, Guyes," Azra murmurs. She drops her bow, allowing to land braced against her waist and the bird, and lifts the lance from beside her. It's a long, slender thing with a narrow point, light for a lance but still quite sharp. She takes this with both hands, twisting to her left to hold it as the bird comes around. Then they charge.
The thump of claws against the ground matches the gust that comes up from beating wings. A sharp raptor's cry echoes through the relatively close confines. Azra keeps her gleaming lance's point carefully ahead of her. The bird leaps when they are five meters distant and then dives at the dragon, digging with his claws and burying the lance's point deep into the creature's body. It claws at the bird in response and the roars drown out lesser noises.
Only one thing to do really. "Well we can't run," The shadow elf says slowly as he draws his hand over the surface of the crossbow. Holy runes begin to glow on its surface, scrawling across the wood and metal as he infuses the weapon with still more power.
He pops up from behind the hedge he sheltered behind, raising the weapon with a flash of a smirk. "Then all we can do is put it down!" He fires then, caressing the trigger with a steady hand. In flight the pair of bolts burst into flame, slamming into the squishy hide of the creature with a resounding /thwack/.
"That worked!" He crows, just as the others pile on the creature. Azra diving into attack with her steed giving him the most to look at. Eyes wide as he flashes a grin. "Ok. /that/ was impressive!" He shouts towards the mounted warrior.
The 'dragon', such as it is, turns and lunges at the bird. It's a large target, after all, and this thing is clearly incapable of the sort of intellect of actual dragons. It's brain is a bit too... wooden for that.
In any case, it does manage to nip the hippogriff Azra is mounted on even as it begins to wilt under the attacks it's suffering. The area smells of smoke, now, readily.
GAME: Lorik rolls weapon9+1-2: (16)+9+1+-2: 24 GAME: Lorik rolls weapon9+1-2: (12)+9+1+-2: 20 GAME: Lorik rolls 1d10+1d6+1+2: (5)+(3)+1+2: 11 GAME: Lorik rolls 1d10+1d6+1+2: (10)+(2)+1+2: 15 GAME: Azra rolls weapon1+1+1-2: (15)+8+1+1+-2: 23 GAME: Azra rolls 1d8+strength+1+2: (4)+3+1+2: 10 GAME: Whirlpool rolls 1d20+15: (3)+15: 18 GAME: Whirlpool rolls 1d20+15: (17)+15: 32 GAME: Whirlpool rolls 2d6+6: (9)+6: 15 GAME: Whirlpool rolls 2d6+6: (9)+6: 15
One set of claws /slam/ into Iskandar, sending him staggering back a step after tearing through his armor and defenses. The other whifs into Fabris. The claws don't quite connect but the force of the blow is enough to leave him badly, badly concussed.
IT roars silently;./
The bird and dragon are wrestling and screaming at one another while Azra works to bring her lance to bear. A couple quick strikes follow and then the dragon thrashes, throwing both bird and ride off of himself. A couple wing flaps and the bird rights in mid air, catching enough air to glide back a few meters before alighting again.
Azra smoothly drops her lance down and reaches for the bow once more. "It really is," she calls to the shadow elf as she's drawing her bow. "I've been training Guyes for this his entire life." Then the single arrow fires, planting firmly into the wilting dragon's hide.
GAME: Iskandar rolls weapon2+1+2: (17)+8+1+2: 28 GAME: Iskandar rolls 1d4+3: (4)+3: 7 GAME: Razen rolls weapon7+2+1: (11)+10+2+1: 24 GAME: Razen rolls 1d10+8+1: (10)+8+1: 19
Iskandar punches again, but this time manages to connect, the reinforced knuckles of his glove thunking solidly into the mossy form. He looks surprised. He looks thrilled. His may be the first time in this 'dungeon' he's managed to land a punch.
Tamrielo continues orating while switching places with the illusion, trying to throw off the dragon's targeting.
"What works so well 'gainst things that fly? A blade and shaft to reach the sky!"
GAME: Fabris rolls 1d20+10: (1)+10: 11 (EPIC FAIL)
Razen grasps his heavy flail more firmly in both hands and brings it down with a ringing crack on the fungal dragons plant-like body. His face is drawn up into a snarl of rage and disgust.
GAME: Tamrielo casts Cure Light Wounds. Caster Level: 2 DC: 14
Fabris takes the cuff from the dragon, and it doesn't seem to faze him. Instead, he wipes at the blood leaking from his nostril, and lunges, shoving his point into the dragon's shoulder. It was /almost/ the pit of the limb. Almost.
GAME: Tamrielo rolls 1d8+1: (2)+1: 3 GAME: Lorik rolls weapon9+1-2: (8)+9+1+-2: 16 GAME: Azra rolls weapon8+4+1: (10)+6+4+1: 21 GAME: Azra rolls 1d8+5: (4)+5: 9 GAME: Azra rolls 1d20+7: (10)+7: 17 GAME: Azra rolls 1d6+5: (4)+5: 9
Tamrielo continues moving, weaving rather than drawing his rapier. He's learned his lesson. He flits past Fabris, hand tracing a glowing line that hovers around the Khazad for a moment, lightly mending wounds.
"Heroics require strength and strain, But never hold on to your pain. You'll find so little there to gain."
GAME: Whirlpool rolls 1d20+15: (7)+15: 22 GAME: Whirlpool rolls 1d20+15: (20)+15: 35 GAME: Whirlpool rolls 1d20+15: (7)+15: 22 GAME: Whirlpool rolls 4d6+12: (10)+12: 22 GAME: Whirlpool rolls 2d6+6: (8)+6: 14
"I can tell!" Lorik tosses back towards Azra with a flash of a grin on his dark features. The silver hoops in his ears reflect the light from his weapon as he sights down the top of it towards the creature.
However the dragon jerks once just as he shadow elf fires and the bolt cracks against stone instead of fungus. "Anyone else seen a mushroom dragon before? This is the first time I've ever seen anything like this and I'm not sure how much I like it!"
His weapon clicks dry though and with practiced ease the elf reaches behind him to pull free a second magazine, smoothly tearing the empty one free to slam the full one home again. "Anything looking like it might hurt it worse than just punching it?"
The sudden spearing of it in the side by Azra does not go unnoticed, nor does the powerful strikes from Iskandar.
Its claws lash out, striking the both of them hard as it tries to breathe on them, pantomiming a true dragon's behavior as some sort of programmed instinct. Nothing comes out.
At least nothing you can see...
GAME: Iskandar rolls weapon1+1: (18)+8+1: 27 GAME: Iskandar rolls 1d8+3+1: (8)+3+1: 12 GAME: Razen rolls Intimidate: (9)+9: 18 GAME: Razen rolls weapon7+1: (17)+10+1: 28 GAME: Razen rolls 1d10+8+1: (10)+8+1: 19 GAME: Fabris rolls 1d20+10: (4)+10: 14
Fabris keeps searching for a good hit -- it eludes him once more.
"Face me you cowardly beast!" Razen's roar echoes around him, his flail swinging up and then down with another sharp crack. The half-oruch is clearly in the full thrall of his rage now. Eyes black, muscles straining.
GAME: Tamrielo spends THREE uses of BARDIC PERFORMANCE. GAME: Tamrielo rolls ranged: (4)+4: 8 GAME: Tamrielo rolls 1d6: (3): 3 GAME: Whirlpool rolls 1d20-2: (18)+-2: 16 GAME: Lorik rolls weapon9+1+1-2: (7)+9+1+1+-2: 16 GAME: Lorik rolls weapon9+1+1-2: (19)+9+1+1+-2: 28 (THREAT) GAME: Lorik rolls weapon9+1+1-2: (2)+9+1+1+-2: 11 GAME: Lorik rolls 1d10+1d6+2+1: (1)+(6)+2+1: 10 GAME: Azra rolls weapon1+1+1-2: (13)+8+1+1+-2: 21 GAME: Azra rolls 1d8+strength+2+1+1: (1)+3+2+1+1: 8
Tamrielo hasn't stopped running, but reaches into one of his many pockets and throws the first thing at hand: his last flask of Alchemist's Fire. It's not a well-aimed throw, if what he does could even be called aiming. It still shatters against the dragon-thing, somehow, and a half-smirk crosses his face as he stops running and continues intoning:
"Ho there, monster, this fight shall turn, My allies here are looking stern. Soon you'll menace from an urn, But, for now, why don't you BURN?"
GAME: Whirlpool rolls 1d20+15: (9)+15: 24 GAME: Whirlpool rolls 1d20+15: (6)+15: 21 GAME: Whirlpool rolls 2d6+6: (7)+6: 13 GAME: Whirlpool rolls 2d6+6: (7)+6: 13
Twin strikes from the dragon rain down, striking Fabris hard enough to send him to the ground where it closes his claws around him in a crunching sound that leaves him a mangled body on the ground. ALive, but just.
Razen is similarly smashed into by a massive claw, but he stands his ground for the moment, bloodied and battered.
It 'roars' again.
The smell of smoke intensifies. The fire you set is still burning.
GAME: Iskandar rolls weapon2-6+2+1: (16)+8+-6+2+1: 21 GAME: Iskandar rolls 1d4+3+1: (3)+3+1: 7
Iskandar sees the others get savaged by the dragon. Expression determined, he marches forward into the creature's range again, landing another light blow with his hand.
GAME: Razen rolls weapon7+1+2: (15)+10+1+2: 28 GAME: Razen rolls 1d10+8+1: (5)+8+1: 14
For Razen there is no other thought now than the blood pounding in his ears as he roars insults in his native tongue at the beast. He beats it with his flail, sweat pouring down his arms from more than the heat of the flames. He seems not to notice either. Only the creature. Only defeating it once and for all.
GAME: Tamrielo rolls weapon1: (17)+5: 22 GAME: Fabris rolls con: (9)+con: 9 GAME: Tamrielo rolls 1d6: (4): 4 GAME: Tamrielo spends ONE use of BARDIC PERFORMANCE.
Fabris lays there, bleedin'.
Tamrielo blinks as Fabris is flattened under the dragon's claw. The vaguely faraway look is gone, replaced with horror, and then anger. In a flash, his rapier is out and he's dashing towards the dragon, self-preservation evaporating like the illusion that could instead have been healing for his companion. His voice still carries, he hasn't yet broken his verbal tempo, but his words take on a sharper, harsher tone.
"Creature, you have not earned The right to end a story such as this man's Tale!"
GAME: Lorik rolls weapon9+1+1-2: (6)+9+1+1+-2: 15 GAME: Lorik rolls weapon9+1+1-2: (20)+9+1+1+-2: 29 (THREAT) GAME: Lorik rolls weapon9+1+1-2: (16)+9+1+1+-2: 25 GAME: Lorik rolls 3d10+2d10+9: (18)+(16)+9: 43 GAME: Azra rolls weapon1+1+1-2: (5)+8+1+1+-2: 13 GAME: Azra rolls weapon1+1+1-2: (13)+8+1+1+-2: 21 GAME: Azra rolls 1d8+strength+1+1: (7)+3+1+1: 12
There is a growl from the shadow elf as he looks at the creature. Friends are falling and blood is spilling and Lorik doesn't like this one bit. So he rests his crossbow on the top of the hedge. "Azra!" He calls out. "I'll distract it! Try to sever the head!" He shouts as he carefully aims, waiting...waiting...
"There."
The first bolt fired slams into the hard crust of the creatures nose, deflecting away but bringing it up short. The second one slips right into the 'eye' of the fungus beast as Lorik grins viciously.
A grin that turns into a whoop of victory as the entire top of its spongy skull explodes as the enchanted bolt goes off.
"Now! Take it down!"
Azra places a hand briefly against Guyes's flank, calming him. SHe leans out forward off of the bird, bow in hand, and draws it all the way back. She's actually half hanging from her mount, clinging with her feet dug in as she lines up the shot. Then Lorik shouts. The arrow leaves the bow with a soft hum, almost lost in the whooping and explosions. As the dragon's skull opens up in a shower of fungus the feathered shaft buries itself deep into the brain behind it. Lurching, the screature falls over dead almost instantly, narrowly avoiding crushing those nearby as it comes to the earth.
As the dragon collapses, the smell of smoke grows even more overpowering. Somehow, your fire appears to be spreading.
Streaks of it are rising into the air behind you.
Columns, almost, as if they were burning something in the air itself...
With the creature dead Razen leans against it a moment to regain his composure before heading over to Fabris. He'd seen the other go down under the monster's touch a few moments ago and now with the thing dead they needed to move. He offers Fabris his aid with an outstretched hand and a wry grin.
Fabris is laying down on the job, that lazy dwarf.
Razen realizes belated that he is unconscious and so picks him up in a fireman's carry and heads toward the exit as fast as he can make it.
"Very good!" Shouts Lorik as he starts to stand. His face is split by that wide grin, his eyes slightly too wide. They just killed a dragon! A mushroom dragon! That was totally awesome!
...the fire. Less awesome...
Reality sets in as he leaps over the hedge to rush towards the fallen dwarf and places a hand easily against shoulder to channel healing energies into him. "Quick! We need to get out before we're cut off!" He looks back towards the fire and blinks again. "...oh that is not natura--it was breathing spores this whole time?!"
Oh this is just not great.
"We need to run!"
Tamrielo trembles, standing over the smoking body of the dragon, the point of his rapier oscillating wildly. As Razen picks up Fabris, he's spurred to action, following but looking dazed as he does so. He looks back, briefly, touching his heavy tome and the sketches inside, then thinks better of it and keeps on going. He slows slightly, trying to fix the image in his mind to sketch later, but a glance at Fabris makes him stop and just keep running, with a guilty expression on his face.
GAME: Lorik rolls 2d8+4: (7)+4: 11
Fabris is a big, heavy armload. He comes to, groggily. "Thankhquoue." His mouth, it's still not quite working.
... out you go. Back the way you came. The fire is spreading, a bit, but not as fast or as far as it should. If you're lucky, it won't burn down all the evidence.
On the other hand, the thick smoke that's building up is a bigger danger to anyone here and it's making your escape harder than it needs to be as you all feel short of breath.
You finally stagger out of the garden and clear the building in its entirety, finding it hard to breathe for quite some time thereafter.
-End-