It was the end of the day when the adventurers emergrd from the underground cult complex. The adventurers all wanted to get away from the hill above the complex.
"Let’s get back to Longspear," urged Troy. "It took days to get through these marshes, so the sooner we leave, the better."
Tovar suggested making for Westkeep. "It’s closer than Longspear," the half-elf explained. "I’m from there."
"How long to get there?" Troy asked. "Two-three days to get to the river," Tovar replied. "Ferryman there might have a barge to rent. Then about a day to Westkeep. We’d head southwest from here through the Marshes."
The adventurers began to speak among themselves, until Tovar suggested a moment of silence in memory of Willis, who gave his life so they could escape. All observed the moment.
Having paid silent tribute to Willis, Adam and Zzyggy quaffed healing potions. The adventurers then began to assess the state of the freed captives.
The sick and wounded were in the wagon. The male drow, who had been provided with clothes found in the cult complex, was still unconscious, but did not appear to show signs of disease. Senna, the tavern girl from Longspear, and Bolin, the blind dwarf beggar from the Lost Hills, were suffering from a malady that left them with a bluish complexion, most pronounced in the abdominal area. Both had lost much of their strength. Thecla, the Longspear cook, and Alca the woodsman, although having normal color, had also lost strength. Alca’s illness had also stricken him blind. Binnie the thief, and Azod of Monmurg showed infected scratches on their bodies and were very clumsy and sluggish, as were the lizardmen Sskaa and Fftiik. Alois, the blacksmith’s assistant from Longspear, lay in a delirious stupor, suffering from terrible head pain.
Worse off was the young elven woman. She alternated between screaming fits and uncontrollable crying. Nothing the adventurers or the other liberated captives said or did had any effect; it was as if the woman didn’t know they were there, as if they were invisible.
But the worst was Zane, the Westkeep bartender. The poor man seemed to be afflicted by some hideous degeneration that was corroding him from the inside out. Open wounds were leaking a slimy substance, almost like the oozes that had roamed about the marshes and the cult complex.
The other surviving escapees--Festus, Garn, Hedric, Wilf, Tovar, Hamlost, and Plong the goblin–although recovering from injuries inflicted during their captivity, were well enough to ride, and had been given horses (Hamlost and Plong rode with Garn and Hedric, respectively), leaving four more horses as spare mounts.
The five adventurers seemed to be asymptomatic. So far.
Having set their course, the group headed southwest about five miles. Fiora and Graves stayed about one hundred yards behind, as the group’s rear guard.
Still in the marshes, the group camped for the night. They set guards for the wagon. Then all sat down to eat a miserable dinner, consisting of the captured food they’d taken from the cult complex.
"Mmmm, stale bread!" mumbled Zzyggy. "My favorite!" Graves examined the cured meat found by Adam. "Are you sure we should be eating mystery meat from a cult of ooze-lovers?" asked Graves skeptically. Adam just chomped away. "You get a bellyache, we’ll deal with it," he grunted. "This stuff is pretty lousy tasting, though."
That night, many of the sick captives worsened. Alois went into a coma. Poor Zane finally succumbed to the slimy disease, and was given a proper burial in the morning.
Zzyggy and Fiora both suffered from fierce headaches, while Adam and Graves became clumsier and weaker like Binnie and Azod. Troy, however, felt tougher than ever.
Despite his symptoms, Adam foraged for food, along with Troy and four of the healthiest survivors (Festus, Wilf, Tovar and Hamlost). Together they found food enough for fourteen people. "Better to eat light than depend on that cultist rubbish," said Hamlost.
Later in the day, still heading southwest through the marshes, the group came to an area with several large fallen trees. A large, scummy green of algae was next to the fallen trees.
Adam paused and signaled to Troy. Both of them spotted a bizarre creature hiding among the fallen trees: Standing on two legs, it was about five feet tall and seven feet from snout to tail-tip. It had no arms, but above its tube-like snout was an orifice of unknown function.
The creature attacked instantly. It sprang out of cover and raced around Troy. From its forehead orifice, a spray of acid caught both Troy and Adam. Neither adventurer could get out of the way. The acid burned both of them severely.
Troy and Adam bellowed at the beast and charged. Troy succeeded in wounding the creature.
Zzyggy saw the battle commence, and joined in with a magic missile barrage. Plong, with more courage than wisdom, entered the fight also.
Then creature stepped back, then slashed at Plong with a vicious clawed foot. The hapless goblin fell, almost eviscerated.
"Ho!" cried Troy as he saw Plong fall. He stepped up and swung at the digester. His mace severely wounded the monster. As did more magic missiles from Zzyggy and a massive blow from Adam. The creature knew it was beaten. It withdrew and fled!
Zzyggy recognized the creature: "It was a digester. Ugh!" he said, while he administered two healing potions to the dying Plong, returning him to active status. Zzyggy also gave a healing potion to the drow, speeding his recovery as well. Troy quaffed a potion of cure moderate wounds, having suffered additional, residual acid burns.
The group continued southwest, and by the end of the day covered another ten miles. The land was becoming less swampy, but was still damp. At camp, the adventurers spoke with the freed captives and learned more about them and their experiences. One of the escapees had made the acquaintance of the young elf woman, who now lay exhausted and silent. Her name was Liriel, and she was a ranger from the Dreadwood. All had similar stories of their capture; some remembered being handed off before reaching the cult’s lair.
More foraging located enough food for seventeen persons, almost enough to satisfy the entire group. But in the night time, more disease indicators manifested. Most of group was now turning blue. And Troy was starting to become stiff.
"Maybe we shouldn’t have eaten that meat you guys found," several of the escapees mentioned the next morning. "Sorry," Adam apologized. "It got me too, if that’s any comfort."
"Not really," replied Graves. Now, real food–aye, that would be a comfort!" With little real food apparent in the vicinity, the adventurers made the hard decision to slaughter one of the horses for food. The roasted meat was enough to last several days.
Another day’s travel, another ten miles through the marshes, another camp at the end of the day.
In the morning, some of the group had recovered from their afflictions. All of the adventurers except Troy were back in health. Most of the escapees, however, were still suffering from the blue illness.
Toward the end of the day, Zzyggy spotted what looked like a glint of light on water! "I’d say about three miles away," the gnome estimated. "Should reach the river before dusk," Fiora observed, hopefully. The group pressed on to reach the river. At about sundown, they made it. They found themselves a couple of miles upriver from the ferry.
"I think that’s enough for now," suggested Troy. "I’m so stiff now I hurt to move." All agreed to make camp for the night. Adam took the first watch. He heard and saw nothing.
A sudden slam jolted the barbarian. Acid burned him. A large ochre jelly had snuck up on Adam! He shouted an alarm, rousing Troy and Zzyggy, then swung with his torch. The flaming brand scorched the ooze. It slammed Adam again, and tried to grapple him. The powerful barbarian avoided the grasp of the ooze.
Alert now, Zzyggy cast magic missiles at the ochre jelly, battering it with force. Adam’s torch struck again. Troy rushed up, sans armor, and smacked the jelly with his mace, badly wounding it. "Haven’t we seen enough of these things?" the fighter exclaimed to no one in particular.
Heedless of Troy’s exasperation, the ooze slammed Adam again for serious damage. A pseudopod reached out, and finally got hold of the barbarian. Adam was grappled! Constriction and acid did further damage.
A scorching ray from Zzyggy scorched the jelly. As it did so, Adam raged and, exerting all his strength, broke the grapple! Troy followed with a heavy blow from his mace.
Now the ooze slammed Troy. The blow staggered the fighter. Another pseudopod lashed out and seized Troy. Constriction and acid damage followed.
"No, you don’t!" exclaimed Zzyggy. The gnome directed another magic missile barrage at the jelly. With a hiss, the jelly collapsed into a goopy pool!
"That was too close," said Troy as the ooze lost its grip on him.
The group attempted to get whatever additional rest they could. Some finally shook off their afflictions. Others continued to lose strength to the blue disease.
At last, next morning, the valiant group reached the ferryman, who agreed to rent a barge to them. And that afternoon, they finally reached Westkeep! Days of rest and recovery followed. Diseases were identified and cured: filth fever, mindfire, blinding sickness, vile rigidity (Troy’s malady), life blindness that afflicted Liriel, and the ubiquitous blue guts, brought about by the consumption of Adam’s "cured meat," which turned out to be grey ooze flesh. Graves did not resist the urge to tell Adam, "Told you so."
The adventurers saw to the expenses of the rescued captives as well as their own. Zzyggy proved adept at negotiating price reductions! For the next week they rested, discussed what they had seen and learned, and gained from their experiences.
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