Island Adventures on Seafarer’s Bane Pt. 2

The Scribbler

Mar 28

    We’re STILL on Seafarer’s Bane.

This week’s adventure finds us still slogging through the jungle. The deeper into the island we get the worse things become. We started our session trying to get a weapon back from near an acid spitting sentient plant crafted out of pasta. Our rogue (Melo) set fire to it after it spit on him. In the process of trying to recover bolts and arrows we fought FIVE encounters in the exact same spot – never getting a chance to even move.

The jungle thickened, taking into a space covered by thick but inconsistent canopy. Our attempts to set camp were interrupted by a spider – just one little one the size of a Chihuahua. We ignored the first (though I had to recast the alarm it triggered.) I had to switch the alarms from general alert to personal mental notification because our spider returned with a buddy. And he told two friends, and he told two friends.

When I tired of playing stand in for John Goodman, I lit the whole group on fire. Seems burning to death makes the little blighters scream. I have a ritual for silence, but I figured killing all the little one would warn them off. Nope.

When morning came and our cleric had her healing spells back (yeah, and the damned spy ranger) we headed into a thicket. My familiar warned me of movement, but the foliage was so thick there wasn’t anything we could do short of systematically burning the jungle ahead of us – remember the five encounters we got burning one bush? Yeah, bad plan.

No shock to any of the experienced players at the table, but all the little spiders had a big bad momma in the canopy. She did her spider thing, catching our barbarian(Trogdor) and his slowly, berry-enlarged wolf. It’s a spider. I cast a lot of flame, and I’m not really a nice person. (LN, remember?) I set momma on fire rather than the barbarian since she was hoisting the webbed Northman to her nest.

Our cleric Casi and I lit her up. (My daughter is nagging me to point out that our elf ranger got in some pretty good hits too, but Ambrose really hates elves)

We fought our way through several encounters, finally out of the thicket, and right into the arms of another Angry Carrot. It got Bre-Elle our elf ranger, so while the rest of the party fought to free her, I took the opportunity to interrogate her about her real reasons for being with us. (Hey, it wasn’t like I was using thumbscrews, the Angry Carrot wasn’t my fault.) When it was clear Bre-Elle had no intention of doing anything but scream in agony, Ambrose decided that the reek of filthy elf was what had attracted it. He used prestidigitation to clean her up (Thank you Critical Role), and the carrot dropped her (she finally muscled out of its grip.)

During the fight Melo’s rapier got stuck in the carrot. So, with Bre-Elle out of the way, I helped kill the carrot so he could reclaim it. The night went on in kind. We fought through more giant insects, a huge, spitting preying mantis, a tree stump that does a pretty good imitation of the old ropers. Most of us didn’t learn anything new (unless you count elf cleaning as a possible carrot repellant)

Our ranger learned a lesson:

“The rapier is more important than the ranger?” Bre-Elle, Elf Ranger.

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