Fantasy DUNGEON DELVER: Secrets of Caedia — Expedition #3, Find the Ecologist

[Elenion Aura]

DUNGEON DELVER

Secrets of Caedia

A Voice in the Dark

"Roots burrow deep. Murky water.

Grasping fingers, gnashing teeth."

• XXXXXX1

• 「 #3 」
  THE GLOOM-MIRE MARSHES

  Beyond plumbing the depths of the Dungeons under Caedia merely for its wealth of materials and precious artifacts, some more... Academic types, have looked for generations to the weird and wild world beneath for study, learning, and insight. Lewyse Coppermane is a Caedian Ecologist, whose life has been spent in search of greater understanding of the subterranean ecosystem(s) beneath Caedia.
  
  Dungeon Delvers, every so often, are dispatched to check on Lewyse while she is out afield, to assure her safety, and to collect any reports she may have for the scholars back at home. It is time again for the routine journey to the the Gloom-mire Marshes—a forest-swamp teeming with flora and fauna native to the Dungeon realms—to rendezvous with Lewyse and collect her reports. A perfect opportunity for first-time Delvers to embrace a wider view of the Underearth below their feet.
  
  

「 #3 」

OST 1 — MAIN THEME

 

[Elenion Aura]

Expedition #3

GARWAN

HALFLING RANGER

Entrance to Caedia

Garwan stared into the swirling depths of the pool. Activity swarmed around him. The floor was abuzz with scholars, machinists, and folk of that sort. Fine-tuning the mechanisms. The surface of Caedia shimmering like a sea of amaranth stars.

The roving attendants passed him by this way and that. Reaching a hand up to stop one of them in their tracks—the fellow took one bewildered moment before he had the sense to look down—Garwan cut him off before he could speak. "How much longer?" He asked, in a gruff voice that belied his size.

"Nearly done, ser! Is your party gathered?"

A good question. Garwan turned to those in attendance, peering out from underneath the lip of his hood and cloak.

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[joshuadim]

Expedition #3

DAKDAK

KOBOLD WIZARD

Entrance to Caedia

SPELL LOADOUT:

Static Field

Flash Freeze

Counterspell

Mana Void

---

A sagely kobold stood near Garwan, leaning against a small pillar as he flipped through a small tome without much interest to the current happenings as he muttered under his breath the contents of the pages in front of him. For a decade he had been studying what texts and tomes he could come across to try to answer an unspoken question in his mind, and yet he seemed to closer to the answer than when he had first started. Arcane studies seemed to be almost... rudimentary in the way that they tackled subjects of reality, materiality, and the connection between that and the immaterial. If anything, it almost seemed as though many scholars had already accepted what had been established in prior works to be an immutable fact. But if the fickle nature of the arcane was anything to go off of, then the truth wasn't as simple.

It was why Dakdak the Gray had now finally moved himself to go onto these delving expeditions, starting with this one, in the never-ending search for truth and knowledge. He was not content with what had already been decided by inferior minds and lackluster imaginations, and so he would prove them *wrong* in how they approached such matters of esoteric knowledge. He took a quick glance at the others that were joining on this particular expedition and said nothing say for his gaze, as the wizard would have choice words for certain members of the people he was travelling with in regards to their assumed competence.

At least they'll serve as good front-line fodder. Dakdak thought to himself with dry amusement as he then shut the tome and tossed it aside, having deemed its value to be less than none for what it could offer him. "So. This Lewyse. I take it her reporting down there is good?" he asked with a reptilian underpinning that contrasted with his surprisingly eloquent speech.

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[Coin]

Expedition #3

CADRIS

HUMAN SORCERER

ENTRANCE TO CAEDIA

"I'm sure if we're being paid to check on her wellbeing on a regular basis, someone, somewhere with an oversized coinpurse thinks she's doing good work," a witch seated nearby replied to the rather colorful Kobold.

Though she was sat with her legs crossed, she was just about the same height as the little lizard. When she looked up, she accidentally made eye contact, to which she cleared her throat and returned her gaze to the work in her lap. The witch was clad in form fitting leather armor that had several layers of fine peacock dyed robes draped over her rail thin frame. Paper talismans lined the wide brim of her hat that sat atop her head of sunset-colored hair. An expensive-looking wheellock gun was on her lap, and with its triangular bayonet affixed to the weapon, it stood nearly as tall and as thin as its owner. A cloth covered in an oil was in her hand, to which she used to lovingly apply polish to the filigreed silver plate of the gun's barrel.

The witch put a pause to her cleaning as it sounded as their attendance was being confirmed by Garwan. She folded the rag and put it into a hip pouch before latching it shut. Next, she stood to address those that she would call her party for the upcoming Delve. The butt of her gun clacked softly on the ground as she used it for support while standing.

"Greetings to all, I'm present and ready to get to work," she said with gusto and a toothy grin. "M'name's Cadris. I'm a witch -- a pretty decent one, if you ask me."

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[Roda the Red]

Expedition #3

GOU

ONI BARBARIAN

Entrance to Caedia

Delving further into the catacombs, the recognizeable sight of a commonly-tread path served as a guide for Gou to know he was on the right path, the tingling on the back of his neck, the one urging him to reach Caedia, served as a complementary confirmation. He sank his oversized canines into the rosey flesh from the mutton leg he held unto. He may have little to no recollection of anything before washing up on the shores of Closter, but his taste buds could recognize when a certain flavor was familiar to him, and mutton was an entirely new experience. Very yummy, probably going for another one after the job was done.

The dephts welcomed Gou with an eerie magenta glow, bathing his caramel-colored skin. He stared in awe at the immense pool of otherwordly liquid resting at the center of the area, smart-looking figures running around its surroundings, tinkering with the structures and machinery scattered around. A group of a handful individuals stood nearby, one particular green hood matching the description that the guild receptionist gave him.

A pebble rolled on the ground from his slow steps, barely treading above the point of dragging his feet across. His eyes darted around, focusing for a few seconds on each of the adventurers waiting alongside him. He may have slowly been getting used to the weird sights of all the new races on this land, but the lizard guy was a new one, that's for sure.

"Hello...I'm Gou." He responded at the woman's greeting, giving a light bow as he uttered his name. He spared a second glance at Cadris, he had definitely heard of witches before, but she looked remarkably different to the, albeit extremely hazy, mental image that carried such a title. "...I just hit things, usually works well." He remarked, not really able to give himself a label like her. As he spoke, the large club resting on his shoulder rose with a twist of his wrist, its tip then resting atop the rocky ground.
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[joshuadim]

Expedition #3

DAKDAK

KOBOLD WIZARD

Entrance to Caedia

Dakdak rolled his eyes towards Cadris' upfront belief in the ecologists' competency; "Just because one does field work doesn't mean they're competent at it. An apprentice can go out to collect reagants for me and end up screwing up the harvesting process. If we all believed at face value the claims given by scholars, then there would be no value in knowledge. All we'd have is *dogma* in that case. Skepticism is a *necessary* part of the learned world."

He took a glance at her equipment and scoffed silently. She was brandishing a firearm, even though she held sorcerous means of attacking and defending. It's why Dakdak refused to take a staff, despite his age, as it *demeaned* his abilities. He didn't need to channel anything through a medium, his magic was strong enough to manifest to devastating effect. Then the Oni spoke up and Dakdak looked over to the simpleton. He was practically a miniature ogre with his club, and he narrowed his eyes.

"So long as you hit the enemy, you won't get on my bad side."

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[Coyote Hart]

Expedition #3

HEW

WEREWOLF ARTIFICER

Entrance to Caedia

"No need to look at me; I'm quite ready to leave whenever you see fit," an assured flourish of Hew's free hand accompanied his answer to Garwan's question. Those in attendance would be forgiven if they didn't believe Hew's words. The salt and pepper haired man was pouring over his spellbook which was open on his lap. Stone shavings covered the pages as Hew chipped away at a stone tablet, inscribing a glyph into it.

After a few moments, Hew nodded in satisfaction, standing up to shut his spellbook, and attaching it to the chain on his belt. He daintily brushed the stone shavings off of his fine quality clothes.

This was his first time adventuring since he washed up near Closter twenty years ago. Hew's limbs were abuzz with anticipation and light with nervousness. He was going to be without the luxuries of his estate (if one could call his house an 'estate'), and likely to get grimy. Perhaps he might even be expected to fight. But Hew was secretly hoping he could avoid all that. It was, after all, just a quick trip to check up on an ecologist, right?

"Greetings, fellow compatriots," Hew bowed slightly, his arms clasped behind his back in a show of sincerity, "I am Hew. It's a pleasure to meet you, Cadris."

In truth, almost half of the group were familiar faces, even if he one of them he only saw for the briefest of moments. With a bit of delight, Hew sauntered over to Gou and gave him a solid pat on the back.

"What a coincidence, to see you here. It's nice to bump into you again," Hew's words were formal, but the smile that split his face betrayed how he felt about seeing the Oni again. The scholar beat his fists together, cold-blue flames whispering up his hands to lightly singe the hem of his shirt, "I'm looking forward to hitting things real hard with you."

And to Dakdak, Hew offered a polite nod. Hew doubted that the wizard would appreciate it if he just smacked him in the back. "It's a pleasure to see you again, ser. I'm looking forward to seeing the practical applications of your knowledge outside of the shop."

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[simj26]

Expedition #3

CHARLOTTE

ELF RANGER

Entrance to Caedia

This sight, she had seen times a-many before. A familiarly strangely familiar Swirl of a World beyond, of depths underneath, of lush Green, arid Brown, and more and More. She knew of Realms like these, years and years ago, decades and centuries ago. Hypnotic even, the churning was, like the stir of a Witch’s cauldron.

She had arrived earlier, but felt it was not in best Interests to approach the gathering Party. Alone, away, free, ‘twas how the elf Hunted. She had to gather her Thoughts. Steady her Mind. She was not familiar with a Congregation, less much to work hand in hand with them. Aid and Assist, maybe, but not as a participant of their Party.

She drew in a deep Breath, as more joined the Congregation. A Reptile, a Man, a Witch, and a Horned one came upon the other Hunter. The Man and the Witch, she had no particular Interest in. It was the Reptile and the Horned one that drew Thoughts from her Mind Well. Sentient as they were, what gave rise to their being? Evolution? What set them apart from their less loquacious fellows?

Would they taste the same?

These Thoughts would be entertained, another time, another hour, another day. She turned on her heel to face the Party, and approached them, her boots but a whisper in the wind.

“Fàilte,” she curtsied as in a Court. “I am tasked to render Assistance to all present for this Mission. Conversations can be made on the Descent and during the Search. The Congregation has gathered. Shall we make for Departure, Green One?”

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[Elenion Aura]

Expedition #3

GARWAN

HALFLING RANGER

Entrance to Caedia

He felt his lip twitch at the lizardman's words, a small heat rising beneath his collar, despite the damp coolness of Caedia's chamber. They bore a familiar quality. He had heard their like wagging from the tongues of ignorant know-nothings whose only recourse, in the face of novel perspectives that did not align with their own, was to flap their worthless gums.

If Lewyse were here, she would encourage him to exercise understanding, and... Restraint. He would fly to her alone, if he could.

Had. Many times in the past, in fact. But this... The will of the Delvers Association, compelled him to suffer these green fools their witless words.

Tamping his foot on the hard stone, he counted out the number of their company in his head in response to the elf-woman's question. One, two, three, four, five...

"Tsk. Confound it all," he hissed under his breath. They were still one Delver short. Protocol dictated that he wait for the full party to gather before venturing forth. And yet, Lewyse was surely expecting them. Expecting him... Unbeknownst to Garwan himself, the restless Ranger had begun to pace.

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[thebigfella]

Expedition #3

BARTHO

HUMAN CLERIC

Entrance to Caedia

Stones weathered underneath the rushing waves, torn down by tearing winds, such things took years and centuries. But quicker yet was the prompt slam of a heavy steel sabaton!

Bam! Pebbles ripped underneath the approach of a marching man, the clanking sounds of heavy armor, the banging thrums that usually came with war horns and slamming drums, cries of battle, and shouts of fury. Yet instead, something much more simple yet no less subdued came.

“Hohohohohohoh!” A hearty guffaw, a gauntlet slammed across a breastplate. Eyes turned to the source, a presence that commanded attention, but soon, a strong smell wafted into nostrils that demanded hunger. The aroma swirled through the air, tickling noses gently as a siren’s act of foreplay.

The sizzle of meat, the rending fat. Charred skin glistened with rivets of moisture, and colorful arrangements of garnishes, tubers, and greens were dressed upon the twined thighs of a bovine. Placed on top of a bed of herbs, the meal stood raised above a helmet, shadow casting upon a set of armor. A giant mallet leaned over the shoulder, bouncing with the man’s steps.

“Greetings! I have come, and with me has the taste of beyond! I bring an apology dish of my sincerity!” The armor-clad chef declared, and with no hesitation, he tossed the giant platter up in the air, letting it fly into the sky, swiftly he rocked to the side, his hands grasping onto a nearby table stacked high with books and mechanics as the various professionals focused on figuring out the last schematics of the expedition. Yet, with no care, the man swung his arms around with a mighty “Hoorah!” slinging all the contents on the ground as he dragged the table over in front of him, leaving those sitting it dumbstruck.

Swiftly, the man dug into the giant pack he kept on his back, large as his massive frame, and soon he was dancing circles around the table, setting out plates and utensils, folding up cloth napkins, and igniting candles with the click of flint and stone—and then with a final clap.

The dish landed firmly on the top of the table setting. With both hands freed, the armor-clad chef brandished a knife from his hip. Like a master swordsman, the blade blurred in front of his eyes, moving as only whirlwinds of white streams within the atmosphere. His wrist finalized with a flick, tossing a stray sprig of rosemary off the tip of the blade as the roast sliced into pieces.

“Gradneia Root Roasted Chuck,” The chef stated, uncorking a flask and pouring its smooth, saucy contents over the top, before stepping away with a humble bow. Stomachs growled in unison as people stared, conflicted between work and hunger. Desire quickly overthrew their focus, and droves surrounded the table, aiming to grab their pieces of the meat.

As the ravenous mob formed, Bartho reached over and picked up his massive mallet again, placing it over his shoulder as he strolled towards the expedition party. “Judging by your mixed appearances, you must be my fellow gourmands, hmmm!?” The man’s booming voice came from within the dark depths of the helmet. A metal-clad finger raised across the party, momentarily taking in each of their appearances.

“Hohoh! I see, yes!” An exclamation, letting go of his giant mallet to let it drop onto the ground, a hand digging into the small pouch at his hip before pulling out and brandishing a small notepad and a quill, flipping it open a few pages.

“Our leader, Sir Garwan, yes?” He pointed the end of the quill towards the ranger, “For you, a well-balanced meal, leaning more on vegetables and grains, I presume!” He quickly jotted down his notes before a gaze shifted to the next on the list, the woman with the firearm, “You, Lady Big Hat, are quite scrawny indeed! Protein! That’s what you need! Legumes I shall keep in mind for you!”

Such a process continued obnoxiously as he gave everyone his attention.

“And you, Lord Scales, something with a little kick? Not quite as hot as the hells, mind you, but a bit of spice should serve you!”

“Lady of the Hunt! I can see it, the taste of the wild! Hohohoh! I shall have some fun trying to suffice!”

“Sir Two Shade, to ensure you’re able to work at your best, it's good to keep you relaxed! Teas! I will brew some at the first chance. I have some amazing blends!”

The man wrote with gusto, repeatedly nodding his head, laughing to himself in his own self-centered elation and excitement. He shuffled through his bag, not even noticing as stray scraps of food hit the back of his helmet as the ongoing frenzy over his meal grew all the more chaotic.

His notebook closed, and with it, his quill waved dry through the air until he could slot it back where it came from; once again, he gave that satisfying clap, the sounds of his steel palms slamming together, ringing like a bell.

“Greetings, I am Bartho! A simple culinarian seeking to grow better at the holy rituals that make up my life! Now! Let us all work together happily, yes? A meal--nay, a feast should be used to bring people together!”


An enthusiastic statement matched with a pump of a fist, one which would have more weight if a meal wasn’t currently causing a battle between the slavering academics behind him.

Finally, the loud talker went silent, allowing everyone else to get a word edgewise. But that was only for the rare time of him whispering. A hand came onto the horned barbarian.

“I did not forget about you, my friend.” Bartho gave a sharp pat on the man’s shoulder, his head turning away from him to look towards the swirling depths.

“Let us eat lots of meat until we are stuffed,” he declared, giving a thumbs-up that glittered upon his fingertips.


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[Elenion Aura]

INTO THE UNKNOWN

Dungeon Revelations

The process of entering through Caedia to one of the Dungeons beneath it is known to be an, at best, disorienting and, at worst, traumatizing experience, especially for first-time Delvers. It is a sensation unlike anything else, as the pit of Caedia transports the persons who stand atop its surface—mind, body, and soul—from one plane of existence to another...

 

[Elenion Aura]

Expedition #3

GARWAN

HALFLING RANGER

THE GLOOM-MIRE MARSHES, Dungeons under Caedia

From darkness, light burst forth like a sprouted seedling through sodden ground. Where once the oppressive stone walls of Caedia's prison rose, now unfurled a sprawling forest swamp. Fingerlings of stagnant, brackish water carved paths lined by sentinel mangroves. The air was heavy and close, filled with the buzzing of river-flies

A wincing Garwan balanced on an overhung branch above the mire, fighting the malaise upon the mind that Caedia's flight so often inflicted.

"Follow me," he called over his shoulder in a low voice, paying no mind to the state of those who had sojourned with him. He knew these trees. Her camp was not far. Without delay, he took a running leap and, like a spring-monkey, landed on hand and feet atop an adjacent branch.

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[thebigfella]

Expedition #3

BARTHO

HUMAN CLERIC

Entrance to Caedia

The party had entered into something more than a new world, a journey across planar barriers. Visions submerged underneath the pirouetting typhoons of the deepest darknesses and the brightest flashes of purple. Sensations melted and melded, everything across the skin and signals through the brain that broke through to leave only the faint tremors of nerves, and then nothing, a feeling of floating, of nothingness.



And then everything returned, and with it came the stench of stagnant water and rotting logs.



“Gaaaugh…”



And along with it, the fresh smell of bile and half-digested morsels. A hulking man leaned against a misshapen tree, lopsided as he. His helmet had been raised off his head, a branch hiding the backside of his head from view. He held his helmet between his fingers as his body slouched forward, guttural bubbles from his esophagus before the contents of his stomach was expunged with wet slaps onto the ground, mixing with muck and mire.



“A-Apologies…” The armored man stuttered out, his loud booming voice replaced with the meek stuttering from that of an ill body, a hand shakily rose, quivering knees knocking against each other as the wood creaked from his shifting weight, the branches shakin, he waved towards the party in a manner attempting to calm their anticipated worry for their faithful chef and his complications.



“Go on without me, I just--urp...require reprieve…” He breathed out, before a hand came to cover his mouth, failing to stop the dam that quickly burst, the force of in bringing him to nearly keel over, gasping for breath.



Would he really be ok?




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[joshuadim]

Expedition #3

DAKDAK

KOBOLD WIZARD

THE GLOOM-MIRE MARSHES, Dungeons under Caedia

Dakdak gave an acknowledging nod to both Charlotte and Hew, the former being his assumption that she would do her role without much in the way of annoying him and the latter from his previous few dealings he had with the young man. Then came the lumbering cook, which made Dakdak roll his eyes. Another loud oaf on a mission, just what he needed if he wanted to self-induce a headache. But before he could make his mind known, the time to move was upon them. The entrance to Caedia became a maelstrom of energies, and its dark entrance beckoned them to practically jump inside. The wizard took mental notes of what was to come as to make sure he remembered the details and information he would gleam from such an experience and followed after Garwan.

Aside from the warping of the world around them, bringing them now to a marsh, the trip seemed almost instantaneous as if they had moved from a hole from one side to the other. Dakdak certainly fared better than than Bartho as he stumbled momentarily before regaining his bearings; displacement was not something he was unused to, but in this manner it was certainly something of note. What caught Dakdak's curiosity more was how an entire marsh could make itself home in such a place like this as he looked around with astute eyes. An entire ecosystem had made itself home here, and the wizard scratched his chin moss in contemplation.

"How curious this all is..." Dakdak muttered to himself as he followed Garwan's path.

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[Coin]

Expedition #3

CADRIS

HUMAN SORCERER

THE GLOOM-MIRE MARSHES, DUNGEONS UNDER CAEDIA

Cadris had been around her fair share of parties, some blander, some pricklier. It made it all the more easy to maintain a placid expression when faced with the eccentricity and exceptionalism of fellow Delvers. The only thing that did rustle her was the stray arrow that struck her in regards to her sticklike figure. Her use of magic accelerated her metabolism, thus making it harder to put on some extra meat on the bones during particularly long study sessions. Who was a raucous metal tortoise to judge her otherwise? Hmph. She ate a small portion of the meal he brought along if only to get him off her case for the duration of the Delve. Regrettably, it tasted great.

When it came to traversing to the Dungeon, Cadris was prepared. She had a palm-sized cloth sachet filled with dried and smoked herbs, of which she clutched loosely over her nose and mouth. It smelled heavily of earthy valley leaves and faintly of wet loam after rainfall. She inhaled deeply of it and stepped onto the swirling transporter circle, instantly shifting the world around her into the shapes and senses of a mangrove swamp. A deeper nausea was held at bay from the scent of herbs, only manifesting as a light vertigo. Thankfully, the feeling quickly dissipated.

The witch strode next to the armored chef and knelt adjacent to him, offering the sachet of herbs near his face, "Breathe generously of this, tin-man. It helps with the sickly feeling, though I am afraid nothing can be done about the meal you've involuntarily discarded. Happens to me too, if it makes you feel any better. I just eat lighter." She smirked.

Whether he took it or not, Cadris would not stick around to see to his full recovery. She followed Garwan's lead dutifully.

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[simj26]

Expedition #3

CHARLOTTE

ELF RANGER

Entrance to Caedia

She stepped through the portal uncaring and unimpeded. Her feet held steady, her head unspun, and her stomach unlurched. She had done this many times before, and this time was no different. Unfortunate, though, that some others were having problems handling such a travel. The Cleric that had only just joined with the Party later than the others had doubled over, sending what seemed to be the Contents of his meal spilling across the mudgrass earth. The others were attempting to cope with it. To have a Party member be so easily felled by just the Dive alone, it was already slowing the surge of the Hunt, the unmomentum.

“First time, bairn?” Soundless softsteps aside the armored Cleric as the witch-hat left it. “The Witch has the right of it. The Herbs she has holden to you mimics fresh Air.”

Kneefall on the earth beside the Cleric. None on her face betrayed any Disgust at his expellations upon the ground. Dirt, shite, vomit, she had been through it all once and upon a time. She brought her hand over the Cleric’s back, and ran it down his back, in an attempt to soothe the Nausea.

“Fear not, bairn, this one will keep company until you are ready to move again.” She continued to rub his back. “Do abstain from consumption afore Dives. Such a twisted travel will upset the Contents of your belly.”


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[Roda the Red]

Expedition #3

GOU

ONI BARBARIAN

THE GLOOM-MIRE MARSHES, DUNGEONS UNDER CAEDIA

"Will try." Gou's response was dry and earnest, not out of a willfull ignoring of the lizard's condescending tone, but due to not noticing it to begin with. Looking over his shoulder, the Oni's eyes focused on the arm behind him, trailing up to the familiar silhouette that it belonged to, he stayed silent, his mind scrambling desperately to recall who the man was. "It's you." He muttered, unwilling to admit he'd yet to fully recognize him. Hopefully that aknowledgement alone could suffice for the time being.

Before the clatter of steel plates, the echoing laughter of a jolly man, or the sight of the approaching hulking frame, it was the smell of roasted meat that next held Gou's attention with an iron grip. His long arms thrust between the bodies clumping up for their servings, gently shoving them aside to clear his path. He aimed for the largest portion available, foregoing the cutlery in reach for some oldschool bare-handed action, holding his plate to catch any delicious drippings that would otherwise be wasted on the cave ground. Licking his fingers clean, he started at the amored man who approached, earning an enthusiastic nod from the Oni. Gou may not know who the man was, but he was fed a delicious meal, and thus would protect him with his life.

Reminded of their reason to be here, the ogre followed the group through the portal, naively underestimating the prior warnings regarding the mystical traversal. The transportal was swift and unceremonious, toes curling and digging into the soft soil of the wilderness, but whereas most were mercifully afflicted with dizziness or nausea, Gou was cursed with paralyzing shock. A single knee met the ground, both hands tightly holding onto the man-sized steel rod.

His body was free of any sort of injury, but his mind was under a strain alien in nature. His senses kicked into overdrive, his muscles convulsing involuntarily, and his jittery pupils tried to focus onto a single point beneath him. His mouth formed a feral snarl, baring his ogrish teeth. His breath escaped between the ivory fangs, visibly steaming from his boiling constitution. Despite the overwhelming sensation, Gou refused to yield under the agony, the thought of crumbling under something so mundane was too much for his pride of unknown origins to take.

His legs continued to shake, but the oni still managed to get back on his feet regardless. A foot after the other, he struggled through stiff motions to catch on with the pace of his comrades. He stopped for a moment, his gaze stopping at the elven woman. "...You're strong." He declared, his visage calm and unphased as before, even as sweat trailed down his facial features, his tone was still just as stoic. But his eyes gleamed with a subtle hint of admiration towards the girl, the one who showed the least signs of effect from the portal's influence.

He would not allow himself to show such a shameful display again.


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[thebigfella]

Expedition #3

BARTHO

HUMAN CLERIC

Entrance to Caedia

Soon, from dry heaving, did an empty stomach enticed by a smell, airy and earthy, a strong aroma that reached into the back of his nostrils, recovered. The floating, batting wings of butterflies in his stomach were torn off. He weakly grasped the satchel between his fingers, looming into it silently, the poignant smell slowly rooting into his senses. Slowly, he felt himself becoming more acquainted with his surroundings, and the world began to lose its blur. From colors melded together, he made the shape of the departing party; one of them had stayed behind to ensure he could recover.

“Lady of the Hunt,” the man breathed out, a nod of gratitude and a clear understanding of her advice and kindness. He looked down at his armored hands, carefully holding the cloth satchel of greenery. Immediately, he shoveled his nostrils into the pile. Rivers of tears began to run down his face, splattering onto the ground, joining the vomit as the intense sensation burned his sinuses.

With a clear head, stomach, and empty nostrils, his helmet once again was placed onto his head, recovering from his crumbled position to once again hold a higher position within the world. So did he turn to his sharp-eared companion, an energetic nod and the rattling of his faceplate resonating through the hollow space within the cavity as he jumped back up to his feet as if he didn’t weigh hundreds of pounds.

“I had no clue such an herb existed! Many things, such as aromatics and verdure, have been used for both cooking and medicinal use; this is no different!” Bartho enthusiastically chanted, placing a hand onto his chest plate as he bowed towards his century-old senior, “I apologize! A shame of an adventurer to hold up his party and a shame of a culinarian to have such a weak stomach! I shall steel myself for next time!”

A heavy stomp onto the ground, and the Cleric’s head whipped around along with the sharp turn of the rest of his body, “Now, let us regroup!" He exclaimed before quickly taking off into a sprint--

At least, if he didn’t immediately skid all of his momentum to a stop, he could just crouch down, hand gripping at a group of fungi, looking them over before tossing them into the pouch bag at his hip. A hand rose above his helmet like a visor to cover his vision from the sun glare that wasn’t present, examining around for other ingredients; like a cat, he lunged to the next spot of interest, taking a small dagger, stabbing it into the ground into a bundle of growing scapes, dragging it out of the dirt to pull with it a shishkabob of tubers, swiftly sliding them into the pouch right along with the mushrooms.

And just like that, he was back on his feet, “Let us go.” He casually said Charlotte as if nothing had happened before quickly picking up his mallet and taking off to catch up with everyone else.

“LADY BIG HAT!” The brute boomed, the mighty stomps, heavy breathing, and clattering of everything on him that came with his run slowly coming down to a more easily managed pace as he caught up with the rest, slowing down to a more balanced pace, breath condensing among the swap gasses. With a second to catch his breath, he raised the satchel before him excitedly, “These herbs are amazing! I wholeheartedly thank you! But I must ask, what is their name?! Where are they from!?” He bombarded the witch with questions, stopping for a moment only to pull out one of the leaves, shoving it between the gaps of his helmet to loudly crunch on it within the darkness.

“Such a sharp twinge to it, yet it overpowers the stinging acid in my throat. This would be excellent with something more acidic, maybe in a pickling mix with...” He murmured thoughts out loud, his brain unfocused on the mission at hand as his continuous mumblings manifested as wispy text that floated through the air, coming out of his mask and flying up into the atmosphere like winged snakes, his obsession with cooking rivaled some of the most crazed academics.



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[Coyote Hart]

Expedition #3

HEW

WEREWOLF ARTIFICER

THE GLOOM-MIRE MARSHES, Dungeons under Caedia

"Oh, we are going to get along splendidly," Hew said to Bartho, delighted by the chef's recommendation. Tea was the way to Hew's heart, and Hew was actually worried that they wouldn't have a chef if this trip ended up taking more than a day.

Hew partook only slightly in the meal. His nerves were subduing any appetite that he may have had, but that didn't mean that he couldn't enjoy the tea that Bartho brewed for him. And it was just as amazing as the chef made it out to be. Notes of cardamon and cinnamon suffused with the black tea, and whilst it didn't put Hew at perfect peace, it did make Hew feel better.

When the meal concluded, Hew joined his comrades in entering Caedia. Gradients swirled in Hew's vision, even as he squeezed his eyes shut in an attempt to shut it out. His limbs felt disconnected, his sense of touch somehow paradoxically trivialized and enhanced to an overwhelming point. And the more he tried to resist these effects, the worse they seemed to get.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Hew opened his eyes to a completely new scenery, the change so jarring that Hew nearly freaked out. Taking several deep breaths to calm himself, Hew reached into his pocket to grab a handkerchief, which he used to wipe the sheen of sweat from his forehead.

Hew made an effort to keep up with the party. Offhandedly, Hew patted his lips with his handkerchief, hoping that the feelings of nausea in the pit of his stomach would quell. As he jogged to catch up with the others, he asked Cadris with a hint of a begging tone, "Do you by chance have more of the herbs? My stomach is disagreeing with me."

What a shame that Hew didn't have the foresight to prepare for the journey... at all.

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[simj26]

Expedition #3

CHARLOTTE

ELF RANGER

Entrance to Caedia

Strong. Not a thought that ever once crossed her Mind. She was simply her. Many moons of traversing that upsetting portal had armed her with a resistance to its discombobulating Effects. She nodded quietly as the Cleric stood back up straight and rushed straight to the Witch, having forgotten his Fatigue. Good to have recovered quick. She was pleased. But his words. Was he a Culinarian of sorts? Interesting. She raised her thumb to her chin as she stepped over the Cleric’s discarded Contents, and followed quietly behind the group. She watched as the Cleric gathered Somethings from the earth beneath them, and was further intrigued by his actions. Curiouser and curiouser.

Venturing with a Party opened her eyes to some facts:
One, there were more people. While this meant that there were more Chances for becoming Liabilities, it also meant that these Liabilities can be covered by others’ expertise.

Two, there were many Souls to meet and understand. Their expertise could mean something, could be of use to her.

Three, she still preferred to move alone. All this Chatter was beginning to wear on her poor Mind. To bask in the Green, and to listen to the Undergrowth chitter, that was much more peaceful.

She would not raise these facts aloud. It was simply an Observation. She continued forwards, and continued to stalk behind her Party, granting her attention to what they passed, while theirs were focused on the Witch and the what was to come. She could at least ensure they were safe from what came from Behind.



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[Elenion Aura]

Expedition #3

GARWAN

HALFLING RANGER

THE GLOOM-MIRE MARSHES, Dungeons under Caedia

Bounding from branch to branch, the ranger spied a familiar parting of the trees up ahead. Her camp lay only just beyond their willowed boughs. He burst into the clearing, and found her camp in ruins. Heart-sinking, face-falling. The woven lean-to lay in eviscerated sheaves on packed forest floor. The trampled research hut sagged beneath snapped supports. Someone—no, some thing—had thrashed this place.

There was no sign of Lewyse.

Garwan concealed a shuddering breath as the rest of his company arrived. He languished a final, forlorn look over the ruined campsite before he turned, face as stone, to address his charges.

"Fan out, search the surrounds for more signs," he barked his orders, himself already making for the nearest tree. "Look for clues, but be careful!" He paused his ascent to turn back and call down to them. "What did this is still likely out there."

And with that, he scurried the rest of the way up, disappearing behind the canopy of tangled branches.

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[Coin]

Expedition #3

CADRIS

HUMAN SORCERER

THE GLOOM-MIRE MARSHES, DUNGEONS UNDER CAEDIA

The swamp was bountiful. Cadris had a hard time prying herself away from the vast assortment of flora and fauna that surrounded her at every squishy step in the swamp. The harvesting of alchemical ingredients was always an ongoing chore, but one for after they had done the job they had been tasked with. Still... it didn't hurt to admire the wildflowers. A warm grin tugged at her lips as she passed a particularly large bloom of dawn orchids. Distracted for the moment, she nearly jumped out of her skin when the Knight Gourmand came thundering behind her, trying to grab her attention.

She composed herself with a deep breath of marsh muck air before she turned to face Bartho with a forced smile now, "Picked you right back up, did it? The blend is called bedside balm, most prescribed to expecting mothers. It is four parts dried sandaltwine, two parts smoked torchweed, and one part minced tanglevine root. Most can be found in this very marsh, if you are lucky enough. Ah... but perhaps you shouldn't cook with all of them. Torchweed is toxic when ingested, and tanglevine can cause irritation of the bowels if not handled properly."

As she rambled on, they were joined by Hew, who also seemed a little rough around the edges from the teleportation. She obliged his request as well, handing him his own sachet of bedside balm, "This is the one I had prepared for the return trip. You can have this one for now, please breathe deeply of --"

Her explanation was interrupted by the sudden discovery of what she could only assume was the ecologist's camp. The abode was completely torn apart, perhaps even worse than the one time Cadris had accidentally left a half-full cask of flashpowder next to a bonfire.

"Right," the witch nodded as she took stock of the scene in front of her and Garwan's orders.

She unslung the arquebus from her shoulder and slotted the bayonet in the plug, readying it as she spread out from the group. Each of her steps was measured as she dutifully avoided any scattered detritus, just in case a trap had been set for them. As Cadris scanned the campsite, she looked for telltale signs of a struggle: clawmarks, bloodstains, or discarded weapons.

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[joshuadim]

Expedition #3

DAKDAK

KOBOLD WIZARD

THE GLOOM-MIRE MARSHES, Dungeons under Caedia

On arriving to the campsite, Dakdak remained silent as he observed the trashed area with an analytical mind. The ecologist was missing, and given the damage something big had trampled its way through here. The possibility that Lewyse was already a creature's snack ran through the wizard's mind, but it wasn't the only one. She could have run off to hide somewhere, though given the nature of the swamp it made finding tracks difficult enough as is.

He paced over to the ruined tent for a moment after Garwan barked his orders, before deciding to look elsewhere. Whatever had been Lewyse's home had not left enough to go off of in his mind, and so instead he focused on possible avenues of exit - going off the assumption that the ecologist was still alive - to see if there were any significant markers of interest. Desperation often made one search for the easiest way out, but it also could have led to her choosing the path that made it least likely for whatever was hounding her to follow. And so Dakdak made his way over to a nearby collection of underbrush and thickets.

This seemed to be a way to lose her pursuer, using the branches and vines to her advantage. But it remained to be seen if this was actually the case.

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[Roda the Red]

Expedition #3

GOU

ONI BARBARIAN

THE GLOOM-MIRE MARSHES, DUNGEONS UNDER CAEDIA

Little by little, the party as a whole finished gathering their bearings, following the experience pace of the ranger through the treacherous muddy ground. A careless step led Gou's leg down a forearm-long pit, barely noticeably under the murky waters. His pants, now soaked, clung to his legs uncomfortabaly, but something like that was far from something that could actually bother the Oni. Tilting his head forward, Gou looked around at his allies, somehow the feeling of exploring with such a numerous group didn't feel familiar in the slightest, perhaps he was more of a loner in the past?

Reaching the ravaged campsite, Gou listened to Garwan's commands, nodding in response before treading through the clearing, eyes and nose equally keen on spotting anything noteworthy among the ruined remains. "The water...hides the traces." Whatever they might be looking for, be it footprints from Lewyse, or from whatever thrashed her place, finding anything of use was going to be a lot harder when looking at the flooded soil.

He kept his head low to the ground, practically crawling on all fours, the tip of his nose wiggling from his frantic sniffing. Hopefully he might be able to pick up on some unexpected scents as he scouted the area. He wasn't on the level of a proper hound, but his nose was keen enough to pick up on more than your average folk.

Despite his best efforts, intrusive thoughts of dinner had already managed to worm their way into his mind.

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[thebigfella]

Expedition #3

BARTHO

HUMAN CLERIC

THE GLOOM-MIRE MARSHES, DUNGEONS UNDER CAEDIA

Loud and overzealous could describe Bartho, and it would be an apt description. From the beginning did he throw his voice with herculean lungs and from his heavy armor and even heavier carry-ons did every action he take rattle and shake obnoxiously.

Yet there was stillness, albeit momentarily, when it came to listening to others. In the moment did the hulking man speak nothing, and from within a helmet an expression hidden, shielded from showing any true thoughts. He walked along half unconsciously, his head turning not away from the witch even as his boots splashed into a part of the mire. He allowed himself to hang over every word with intention, letting his thoughts ruminate in the back of his head.

“Hm. I see. I understand! Thank you very much!” Bartho gave a curt nod and kept it simple. He needn't trouble the woman with his inner machinations, the realm of culinary arts was still one wrought with much potential, such is it a branch similar to alchemy. Change the ingredients to get different results, alter your preparation, change the effects…

If something was toxic, poisonous, or such. Then came the question of how does it return to the cycle? Eaten by the worms? Devoured by rot? How are they able to digest what the Gods’ chosen cannot? A fundamental change, something from inedible to edible.

Though, that was all in the future, one that awaited lots of sick nights and obsessive scriptures. There was a much more pressing matter, one that he wished to address immediately, that soulless helmet staring at the back of the witch's head as she prepared some of the same herbs with the monochrome haired fellow.

“Lady Big Hat. Could it be that you--”

Halted, did his speaking cease as movement came to a stop. His focus tore forward, and within a moment did he step foot in the destroyed camp and his blood chilled.

“Lewyse!” Bartho ran into the center of the camp, spinning around on top of long snuffed ashes as focus tried to peer through the tangles of trees and vines, arms and chains that barred peering deeper into the marsh, “LEWYSE!” He shouted with more urgency, his voice boomed through the swamp, yet all he was met with was the sound of croaking toads and the bubbling surface water.



“By the hells,” Bartho cursed, everyone else fanning out to examine across the camp, Bartho took it upon himself to prop open the fallen entrance to the researcher's hut, stepping inside to look around. From across the ground were scattered and torn parchment, books broken from the spines.

Bartho slammed the butt of his mallet into the mud, a small twist to keep it in place, and used it to keep the thing from toppling over as he began to dig through what was left, pulling what was salvageable off the ground before it could become too soiled.

He was worried that the poor woman was safe. But even if it had been decided it was her time to become part of the cycle, he would ensure her accolades lived on.






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