Esteemed Witch Hunter Coim,
It's still the 15th of Desnus, 4715, although it feels like it's been months. Plant pod widsom is quite a trip. Lucia and Jeff are standing idle, like the force that controls them is absent.
Now that we're done with the pod, there's two chambers we could explore. I press on into one; it's octagonal, blessedly empty save for a few cobwebs, and seems to have some sort of multihued lighting going on, despite there being no source of light.
There's a low hum in the air to go with it, and we notice that Ronan's staring off into space. He seems to come to. He's a bit odd, but okay, so... I guess I'll let it go?
The next room is also empty, but doesn't seem to have been for long. There's weird patterns in the dust of this room. It looks like something was standing on a tripod, and/or had wings that disturbed the dust. This chamber has weird lights going on as well.
Using detect magic, I can see the barrier between worlds is extremely thin here. I suspect the people given to the Neighbors were taken here by Scum to be sacrificed for this purpose; we're standing in prison cells, but not for things of this realm.
We need to bury this place, if possible. We move on, We take the only tunnel out of here, and come to a fork in the road, heading south. The tunnel widens into a large chamber, where we see a single scum standing there.
It has clearly just finished summoning something. To the Western edge of the room, a large plinth stands, and if I were able to see clearly in the dim light, I would behold a mace.
I rush left to flank the Scum , but am interrupted by two more scum that were hiding in a crevice to the left! They fling their tridents at me! One misses, but the other connects, and I ready myself to shank them if they get any closer.
Hecathia does her thing, and tries to dispel the summon spell and send the mysterious, summoned creature back where it came from. It works, and the barely-materialized creature is flung back where it came from.
The summoner does not like that. It screeches in anger, and jet of flame shoots out of the ground from beneath Hecathia. She's not quick enough, and catches the full blast.
Ronan advances, and I charge to deal with the trident-wielders. I do a little damage, but they're much better at clawing and biting than they are at throwing tridents, and they do a lot more damage.
Lucia arrives out of nowhere, and engages the spellcaster. Hecathia tries to hold him to no effect.
Ronan strikes, avenging me, and does some damage. I back up, and put some distance between me and Ronan's scum. The one I'm picking on savages me a little more.
Lucia tries to do her thing to the spellcaster, but bad luck means she just hits herself in the back on her backswing, doing some damage.
The spellcaster backs up and cuts loose a blinding stream of darkness at Lucia. She screams as it does considerable damage.
Ronan gets in there. I try to flank the scum, doing a little damage, before it unflanks itself and knocks me out, although it manages to hurt itself considerably with the last bite.
As I fall, now that I'm close enough, in the corner the trident-scum came from, I can see a statue depicting a creature that is an unholy fusion of eel and other creatures. The walls are decorated with carvings.
I feel someone power-slap me, and I wake up, filled with renewed life. I lash out and stab the scum in the ankle. It tries to bite me, oddly breaking it's usual combo of claw-claw-bite, but instead just vomits on me. Gross.
Me: "At this point in the sesion, we've had... jeez, nurse outfits, vomiting..."
Ronan: "Oh god, I'm the male solo... Laying on hands..."
Lucia: "Jeez, what kind of video are we making here?"
Me: "All of them. We're hitting every demographic at once."
DM: "Alright, alright, come on -- Lucia, make this a snuff video. Go."
Lucia charges the spellcaster and rips into him. It tries to retaliate, but the moment passes and his spell fizzles.
Ronan charges the spellcaster too, as I'm relatively safe to be left alone with the vomiting scum, and mangles the spellcaster.
I get up, and stab it a little. Meanwhile, the spellcaster's on the ropes; fatigued, he can't run away without Lucia running him down easily. He tries to blind Ronan, but Hecathia's on the ball and counters it.
I resume taking my revenge on the Scum -- nobody's vomited on me like that since prom. I finally finish it off, and just barely; it's vomiting, I'm crying, we're both screaming, and there's a lot of thrusting going on. So, just like prom all over again.
The spellcaster charges up negative energy and lets it off; I'm out of range, thankfully.
Ronan tries to finish off the spellcaster, but slippery grip embeds the sword in the wall.
Lucia finally manages to finish it off. I sneak back to our entry point to wash off the vomit, with no further incident.
We don't tarry, and press on. At a fork in the road, we turn left. It's a long, rectangular room, 30' across and 120' long. Unlike the other chambers in this place, the walls and such are actually straight and machined. Copper and glass canisters line the walls, sitting on pedestals. Most hold disembodied brains, suspended in fluid. There are no other exits.
Hecathia notes that some are faintly magical, presumably coming from a magical creature. I shout "Hello!" at one brain. It doesn't respond, but I notice that it's weirdly fresh. New... the Mayor's?
With nothing else to see for now, taking the other fork in the road leads us to a dimly-lit grotto. All over is a riotous tangle of vines. Part of the wall appears to have been melted and reshaped into some sort of door. The middle of the room features some large machine, an equally large pool of blood, and a number of bodies next to it.
Lucia, Ronan and I go check out the machine. Hecathia, disapproving of us as usual, checks out the wall.
I miss something, and Ronan suddenly shrieks in pain as he is nibbled by something behind. Hecathia screams out to look up, and we do. Gross things descend from above. They carry cylinders... oh dear.
The room seems to feel colder compared to the ball of plasma that emerges from the cylinder. Lucia is splashed with it and takes a hit.
The second shot comes for me, and it's a rock. I take a solid hit, but not nearly as bad as Lucia did. I take cover behind the mysterious machine, and open fire on the plasma flier with my repeating crossbow. I don't do very well, hitting myself instead, somehow.
Lucia screams and jumps like MJ, 20' up into the air, to grapple the rock-casting flier. Hecathia forces the plasma flier to the ground.
Suddenly, a long, lanky creature appears next to where Hecathia had been -- if she hadn't jumped, it would be using it's freakishly large people-pushing-into-box hands to push her into the big machine box. And we all instinctively realize that's a bad time for anyone inside.
It lays it's hands on Ronan, but he's still benefitting from freedom of movement, from when we went along the seafloor. The dog savages him a little too, and we finally see him bleed.
The now-grounded flying dissector stumbles towards me, slashes me, and to my horror, begins dissecting my flesh, taking a valuable chunk of my constitution.
I brand Fuckhands McMike for retribution.
High above, Lucia realizes the fliers don't actually need their wings to fly. She wriggles free. The landing isn't really stuck so well.
Hecathia: "I will use Violent Thrust."
Lucia: "But you don't have a Cylindrical Object..."
Hecathia works her magic and pulls the invisible dog and the rock flier into the mulcher. It activates, and we hear a terrible grinding.
Fuckhands tries to grab me, but in my struggles, he somehow winds up grabbing himself and teleporting to another plane.
The plasma flier lets go of me and backs off... only to blast us with plasma.
Ronan, slightly singed, advances and cuts the flier deeply. I try to brand it for retribution, but it escapes my blade. Lucia flanks it, and mauls it. I tickle it for negligible damage.
Lucia finishes it off. Ronan, after divesting it of the cylinder, puts it through the mulcher. Interestingly, plant matter, not giblets, comes out the other end.
I think that'll be enough for today. I'm in sore need of a rest.
Glory to Pharasma,