Session 14: It's Got a Gun!

Deep within the bowels of a forsaken world, the motley band of adventurers stood before a mammoth door, its surface etched with the cryptic symbology of the Ancients. The darkness of the tunnel seemed to swallow the very light around them as they contemplated the barrier that loomed before them. Elsewhere, his three legs shifting restlessly, shared with the group a recollection of windows they had previously encountered—impenetrable barriers that mocked their efforts with their silent, transparent defiance.

Amid the tension, Flattus, the healer, lightened the mood with a jest about the folly of repeating failure, spinning it into a humorous yarn involving legal jargon and biblical references. A chuckle rippled through the group at the notion of not getting a “second bite at the apple,” their laughter a brief respite from the omnipresent danger.

As they recovered from their mirth, Prodigy, the shaman, wove a satirical tale of a theoretical podcast, a venture that would surely bring wealth to them before they embarked on any altruistic deeds. The jest about catering to niche demographics was met with smirks and knowing glances among the seasoned gatherers and hunters.

The conversation took a peculiar turn as Bucks, the green-skinned mutant, initiated a debate on the sugar content in various condiments. The group found themselves comparing the sweetness of ketchup to the syrupy allure of a Coke, and even the deceptive richness of a milkshake. Such mundane details of a world long lost seemed strangely comforting in the desolate underground.

Their path thus far was made clear as a map was unfurled before them, showing the crypt with its standing coffins, a desecrated temple, and the shrine with its eerie green glowing liquid. The stairs they had descended to reach their current position were marked, a reminder of the journey they had undertaken. The map brought to light an uncomfortable truth—their comrade Jeffries, the towering orangutan manimal, was too tall to have journeyed with them to this chamber.

The pressing matter at hand—whether to press forward or retreat—was debated. Bucks, with a hesitant courage, led the way down the hallway, his mind reaching out with telepathic whispers for any sign of threat or welcome.

Entering a smaller chamber, the crew was met with an unnatural cleanliness—the walls were smooth, free of the rampant plant life that had reclaimed much of the ruins. Small holes pockmarked the walls and ceiling, dust lay undisturbed, and magic stones dangled on chains, their purpose inscrutable.

The far door stood ajar, its window shattered, a bright glow beckoning from beyond. But before they could investigate further, a metallic figure, a remnant of the Ancients’ technology, stirred to life. It pointed a tubular appendage at them, and they knew—combat was inevitable.

Prodigy was first to move, stepping into the chamber with a measured calm, while Paulo attempted to parley with the creature, offering peace to no avail. An unidentified floating object drew near, and Elsewhere called out a greeting, hoping for a nonviolent resolution.

Flattus assessed the situation, readying to heal Elsewhere, who had been struck down. An image of a creature, pixelated and strange, appeared before them, provoking discussion on the technology of the Ancients.

The floating menace drew closer, and Flattus remained back, considering the need to revive his fallen comrade. Smokey, the hooved and winged mutant hunter, charged forward, ready to protect his allies. Bucks, his mind reaching out, attempted to breach the thoughts of their adversary, whispering the word “sleep” into the ether.

The metallic guardian uttered incomprehensible commands—threats or instructions, they could not tell. Smokey, shielding himself, demanded to know its purpose, but the creature merely repeated its previous utterance. In a burst of desperate action, Smokey struck with his baton. The metal figure emitted distorted cries, smoke billowed from its form, and it crashed to the ground, motionless.

Dust, the two-headed blob, swung his stone axe at the fallen guardian, but it left no mark. Prodigy, ever cautious, scanned the room for hidden dangers, while Paulo listened for any sign of life within the downed sentinel.

Bucks, wielding a Duraloy knife, scored a mark upon the creature’s carapace, even as it struggled to regain its hover. Elsewhere’s axe swing chipped the stone of his own weapon, and the group humorously contemplated the logistics of sharing their one effective knife.

As they deliberated the ethics of their assault, the combat continued. Paulo’s laser pistol merely grazed the robot, and Flattus kept his distance, readying his weapon. Smokey’s extra limbs allowed for a flurry of attacks, causing spiderweb cracks to form on the robot’s surface, and Dust’s failed attempt to unleash radiation left him cursing his impotence.

The group’s collective efforts eventually laid the robot to ruin. Dust, in a display of irreverent triumph, manifested large balls to teabag the vanquished foe, while Paulo fired a shot at the inert metal, claiming a jestful coup de grâce.

In the aftermath, they examined the robot, discovering an empty tank bearing the GE logo among its innards. Smokey and Bucks pushed onward, finding a cave aglow with luminescent mushrooms and vibrant plant life. An immense plant, scarred by past battles, watched them with a predatory hunger.

Smokey and Bucks discerned a trail through the foliage, evidence of another’s passage. They rounded a corner and beheld an object reminiscent of a fabled artifact from an Ancient tale known as “Prometheus.” Bucks, driven by curiosity and odd fascinations, approached it without caution.

The party, amused and wary, deemed it a fitting point of respite. Yet, plans for the next steps were laid. The object, potentially dangerous, prompted a debate on strategy—whether to engage from a distance or find a way to bypass it. The doorway beyond beckoned, and the group weighed the use of their precious laser beam against simpler, more conventional arms.

The creature reacted to their presence, tendrils reaching out. Dust and Bucks quickly distanced themselves from any role as bait. Resolving to attack from afar, Prodigy sought to communicate, but silence was his only answer.

Telepathy failed to bridge the gap between minds, and the creature’s tendrils inched closer to Smokey, who remained fearless. An intelligence check revealed the plant’s unique menace, distinct from the others in the room.

Smokey’s ruse with a thrown rock failed to elicit a response, but Dust’s pyrokinesis set the creature ablaze. As it collapsed and smoldered, the air filled with smoke, and the group made light of fire alarms and spores. A grisly discovery at its base—a dead body—served as a grim reminder of the dangers they faced.

Giving the charred husk a wide berth, the party proceeded with caution. Smokey and Bucks led the way, only to encounter more peril: Bucks was ensnared by a lily pad-like plant, and acid seared his skin. Dust’s pseudopods strained to free him, but the plant held fast, and from the walls, emaciated figures covered in yellow fungus emerged, threatening the party’s advance.

Bucks struggled with his knife, while Dust called out for aid. The session closed with the group bracing for combat, their minds already turning to strategies for the next encounter, even as they shared plans for the coming New Year’s Eve among themselves.