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Post by Mushgnome on May 22, 2011 9:20:03 GMT -6
The injured Fated to Die and Thug Slave back away from the melee, keeping a cautious eye on the plant-thing's elastic tendrils. When he reaches a safe distance, Fated breathes a deep sigh of relief.
Moments later, however, (d6=6) he is surprised as something heavy drops from the ceiling above and knocks him off his feet! His headlamp is jarred from his head as strong, furry hands grasp him roughly from behind.
Then he experiences a terrifying phenomenon that will haunt the rest of his short, miserable life: His stomach drops as the floor vanishes below him, and he is cast into the inky void of space! He contemplates the oppressive vastness of the galaxy, and his mind reels with the epiphany of his true insignificance in the cosmos.
Thankfully, this experience only lasts an eternal fraction of a second, then gravity is restored. The clutching hands release their grip and he falls a short distance onto a soft, wet floor cluttered with various objects. His hand touches a boot, and despite the precarious terror of the situation, Fated's ever-fashion-conscious mind cannot help running his fingers over its workmanship: Inexpensive yet supple leather, sinew stitching, rubber-lugged soles, monk-strap buckles... why, this is Pack Slave's boot!
Groping a bit further in the darkness, Fated touches Pack Slave's woolen sock, then his linen trousers, and then... the leg abruptly terminates just north of the knee in a jagged stump of bone!
Fated to Die lets out a shriek of terror and contemplates his predicament!
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Post by crusssdaddy on May 22, 2011 14:48:23 GMT -6
Fated to Die contemplates his predicament!
Fated quickly scrambles out of his unitard and begins stuffing it with anything he can find close at hand - debris from the floor, clothing from the bags (if he still has those), Pack Slave's foot & boot, and... presto! The result just kinda might deceive someone into thinking Fated is still in his unitard.
Fated places the dummy into one corner (if he can find one), then goes to an opposite corner and hides beneath bags, cheesecake poster, Pack Slave's pack and anyhting else left over, awaiting the occupant of this lair with sword drawn and an insane gleam in his eyes...!
(If he still has the stolen bags and his quick rummage through them uncovers anything interesting/useful, then he holds onto it.)
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Post by Mushgnome on May 23, 2011 7:32:44 GMT -6
Fated to Die strips out of his unitard and completes the grisly business of stuffing it with debris. In the pitch blackness of The Nest he is forced to grope blindly among a sickening spectrum of textures: sticky, slimy, viscous, rubbery, etc. Soon the task is complete and the stuffed clothing arranged in the shape of an unconscious body. Will the stains ever wash out?
Fated takes the three duffel bags (he managed to hold on to them in the transition) and explores his surroundings. Crawling forward he nearly tumbles over some kind of ledge or cliff... not that way! So he crawls backward until he finds an alcove in the cave wall. Concealing himself as best he can, he begins sorting through the bags' contents by touch... a suit of formal wear, a fine wool overcoat, silk pyjamas, several pairs of shoes, a portfolio, a leather bag containing small glass vials, scissors, razor, and other grooming implements, and... praise the Spiders of Mars! a box of matches.
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Post by crusssdaddy on May 23, 2011 9:01:05 GMT -6
Fated to Die: "Ahhh, silk! Back in business."
The pyjama bottoms go on, but not the top - this is bare-chested work if ever there was. Fated brings forth a match, quickly makes the sign of the dodecahedron, and then strikes it to make... LIGHT!
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Post by Mushgnome on May 23, 2011 9:30:35 GMT -6
You light a match, and then wish you hadn't.
By the flickering light, you see an undulating natural cavern complete with stalagmites and stalactites. Everywhere are strewn the gory remains of men and beasts. Hanging from the largest stalactite--not far from your decoy--is a cluster of several dozen green egg-sacs, gently pulsing and throbbing. Each is the size of a grapefruit!
The match burns to your fingers and you drop it...
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Post by crusssdaddy on May 24, 2011 9:14:17 GMT -6
That one look around the lair was all he needed - the bat-like servants of Hastur are well-known to all. Fated to Die dons a pair of shoes then lights another match and sets fire to a bit of stray cloth. He holds his sword out briefly toward the egg-things then, as if reconsidering violence, lowers it slowly.
He then dips his hand in the nearest puddle of gore and scrawls on his chest the symbol from Servitor of the Yellow Sign's shield. As the fire dies out, Fated lounges casually in the alcove with sword sheathed. He absent-mindedly uses the razor to shave his eyebrows.
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Post by Mushgnome on May 24, 2011 14:00:13 GMT -6
Soon you hear a faint snuffling noise from the far side of the cave (beyond range of your earlier match light). Then there is a hint of green phosphorescent light, gradually brightening. Do you wish to stay hidden in your alcove, or to confront whatever approaches?
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Post by crusssdaddy on May 24, 2011 14:03:47 GMT -6
Fated to Die remains hidden for the moment.
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Post by Mushgnome on May 24, 2011 14:29:54 GMT -6
You remain hidden as the approaching creature slops up over the ledge at the far side of the cavern. It is a vast squid-like creature with a body sac the size of a horse. It emits a greenish light from a row of glands along the side of its body and from the lure-like tips of its tentacles.
As you watch, it drags its bulk along the cavern floor until it reaches the egg-cluster, then it gently probes each egg with a tentacle-tip while making soft murmuring noises punctuated by loud blasts of air through mucous-lined breathing tubes. You observe it is dripping a greenish ichor from numerous wounds, and that several of its tentacles have been mangled or severed.
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Post by crusssdaddy on May 24, 2011 18:36:14 GMT -6
Fated to Die lounges anxiously in his alcove. He concentrates on turning invisible, and wishes he had covered himself with the fur coat.
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Post by Mushgnome on May 25, 2011 8:48:58 GMT -6
Suddenly from nowhere a tall, gangly humanoid creature appears! It combines the worst features of bat, mole, buzzard, and man. On its back is a single, enormous bat-wing; where the other wing should be is a stump of scar tissue.
The B'yakhee fearlessly approaches the tentacled monster and unwraps a package it is carrying. Opening a large jar, it begins to slather some sort of ointment on the monster's numerous wounds, while it gurgles and mews at the healing touch.
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Post by crusssdaddy on May 25, 2011 9:29:30 GMT -6
Fated to Die takes a deep breath before embarking on the boldest con of his life...
"I SERVE THE YELLOW SIGN!!!" Fated bellows as he steps from the alcove, chest puffed out to reveal the disgusting sigil scrawled in blood across his chest. His sword remains at his side.
He points to the B'yahkee, careful to keep the monster between him and the worse abomination - "We serve the same Master - use your powers to search my mind, I could have destroyed the precious eggs but I held my blow. WE ARE THE SAME."
If his head hasn't already been ripped off -
"Why have you brought me here? You have interrupted an important errand of our cult, and another of our number is stricken. Return me whence I was taken and help me to restore the injured and vanquish our enemies... or face the cruel wrath of our Master!!!"
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Post by Mushgnome on May 25, 2011 9:53:20 GMT -6
An audacious ruse indeed!!!
(Charisma check=11)
The b'yakhee whirls around to face you and rapidly flickers in and out of sight several times, like an old-time film projector, unsure whether to stay or teleport away.
It seems to make up its mind, then it reaches out and plucks a single egg from the cluster! Striding forward, it extends its claw, seemingly offering the egg to you...
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Post by crusssdaddy on May 25, 2011 13:35:51 GMT -6
Fated to Die throws up a little in his mouth, bears down, then holds his hand up, dismissing the proffered egg. "Fool! You are rash to offer that which is not yours to give. Such treasures belong only to our Master, and he would be exceedingly cross to see them wasted so."
"We have not time for silliness. Do you dare tempt destruction? How many of your kind have been destroyed by Master for lesser tardiness? Return with me whence you took me and stay by my side - there is much to be done in service to the greater evil."
Fated grabs his bags, dons the fur coat, and makes ready to leave. He nods at squid-thing -
"Bring the Beast... I can give you each many White Man souls to feast upon."
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Post by Mushgnome on May 25, 2011 14:24:12 GMT -6
The one-winged b'yakhee looks quizically at Fated to Die, cocking its head to one side. It has been many years since it has been lectured with such boldness! (Charisma check = 7) Fated feels an itching, tickling sensation inside of his skull, and buzzing alien thoughts intrude fully-formed into his mind:
BAD WHITE MEN TOO MANY THIRTYFORTY
LEADER STRONG CUTOFF WING
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Post by crusssdaddy on May 25, 2011 22:40:11 GMT -6
Fated to Die cringes at the mental intrusion - he speaks rather than thinks his response:
"You bear your wound nobly, a tribute to your dedication. I will speak favorably of you to the Priests. But these infidels must be punished and I must be restored to my companions, that our errand be completed and the Master exalted. The leader is wounded severely, he fled the blows of my fellow cultists. The White Men are weak... without a strong hand they are easily cowed."
"Return with me to destroy them, in the name of the Master. If you can capture the Leader and transport him here, let the Beast make short work of him. IT MUST BE DONE!"
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Post by Mushgnome on May 26, 2011 8:33:07 GMT -6
(Charisma check = 20)
The b'yakhee abruptly grasps you by the mohawk, and once again you experience the pure void of absolute space!
Your tale of woe continues in Episode 3: The Foreman's Hideaway...
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