Vraxious- Whispering Grotto Dungeon
Vrax and Torvald had spent the next hour creeping farther into the dungeon, absolutely ruining the few small packs of goblins they had stumbled on. One pack died unceremoniously to just the Acidic Lurkers when Vrax dropped into the middle of them and summoned both directly next to four goblins. They were wrapped up and melted before they could even figure out how to respond.
Another pack hiding in ambush that Vrax had missed had charged Torvald. Two had met swift, crushing deaths at the end of his hammer; the final one he had thrown against a tree so hard that they couldn’t have looted it if they wanted.
They made it to a sweeping river that had an unseen source within one of the cave walls and rumbled down the slope towards another landmark. A jarring scar on the natural beauty of the cavern was cleared out of the forest on either side of the river. The fungi had been either cleaved or burned down, and a sprawling camp sat beside the river. Over a dozen hide leanto tents and two massive bonfires sent foul-smelling smoke upwards. Many goblinoid figures could be seen milling about on the right side of the river, and across a log bridge on the left, a singular, much larger structure sat alone against the wall of the cave. It was a massive example of the mushroom-trees making up the forest, but the bottom had been hollowed out, and something big could barely be seen stirring inside. All along the cave walls on both sides of the river, cave entrances were dotted about, promising an alternative path if one didn’t want to brave the camp.
“So, we going to go around?” Torvald asked Vrax, eyeing a nearby tunnel entrance with distaste.
“Of course not, but I need to scout first and make sure there isn’t anything we can’t deal with down there and see what the hells is in that!” Vrax said and gestured towards the towering mushroom, noting scattered bones half buried in the clearing.
“You guys are fucking unbelievable, maybe I won’t be paying for your inn stay after all,” Red said with a smile that said he doubted they could clear the camp, practically egging them on to try it.
Vrax melted into the shadows, heading to a large shelf of orange fungus jutting from the rightmost cavern wall overlooking the camp. He fluidly wove between the shadows luminescent plants, dimming just enough as he passed by that the two bored-looking goblins keeping watch missed his passing as he slid up the cave wall and crawled to the edge of the fungal shelf. He began methodically identifying every goblin he saw; most were the same low-level minor threats he and Torvald had waded through. There were two standouts: A portly goblin wielding an axe in each hand who was berating another as they roasted a spit of meat on the fire [Goblin Berserker Tier-1](lvl10). Then there was the best-dressed goblin wreathed in a cape of flowing pink and red feathers. This one sat upon a roughly carved throne near the northern tip of the camp overlooking the second largest bonfire, [Goblin Shaman Tier-1](lvl15).
Vrax glided back undetected to Torvald and shared his findings before melting back into the shadows and sweeping across the log bridge towards the Mushroom-Home. This close he could see what he had mistaken for stones amidst the bones were simply more bones. He actually had to plan his path to weave through them to avoid his footsteps crunching. Ominous as hell, but we need to know what this is before we make any plans. Vrax skirted to the edge of the cave wall and crept to the side of the mushroom, his steps slowing as he carefully angled away from the wall enough to hopefully get an identify off. The form inside writhed in the darkness; a horrible clattering shuddering rang out, and Vrax used identify, [Bone Kraken Tier-2](lvl2). I'm sorry, what the fuck!?
Vrax crawled the hells away from the mushroom cave as fast as he could as quietly as he could, trying to keep himself from panicking. He had just come within a few feet of almost certain death. He didn’t know what the hell a bone kraken was, but a tier two monster sequestered off like that couldn’t be normal here. Only when he was back across the bridge and deep into the shadows of the fungi did he relax some. Vrax went straight up to Red, who was calmly smoking a cigar reclined on a shelf of fungus.
“Red, is it normal for there to be a tier-2 Bone Kraken in that cave?” Vrax asked deadpan. Torvald whirled around, a look of concern on his face.
Red choked on his cigar. “Newbie, you better not be joking right now.” He had a dead serious expression for the first time and snubbed his cigar out, drawing his sword in a supernaturally fluid motion.
“No, I’m serious. I used my identify talent, Tier-2 Bone Kraken, whatever the fuck that is,” Vrax stated.
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Red cursed colorfully. “Someone pissed the dungeon off again, goddammit! It does stuff like this from time to time if an overpowered group keeps farming its pet boss monsters. Lately there is a level thirty troll in that cave, but if some very high-level Tier-1s kept killing it over and over without any real challenge... this dungeon would not like that one bit. Here's the good news, the bone kraken won't leave that side of the river. That's a rule the dungeon has never broken with the dozen or so first-floor bosses it has placed there. The bad news is I have to go back and tell the guard about this right the fuck now. I might be able to kill it myself, but I'm not going to risk it. I need a tier-2 team down here to do it safely. So you two hang tight. I’ll be back in less than an hour. Don’t fucking attack the camp while I’m gone.”
Red raced off into the forest, a blaze of fire trailing his footsteps as he accelerated faster and faster into the distance, the fire he trailed growing to an incandescent white that lit the entire cavern as he streaked away. They heard the roar of a beast far away that was instantly silenced with a slash that felled several trees, and then the bright speck of fire began again, building to a crescendo as Red rose higher above them. They were so stunned by the pyrotechnic display they simply watched his ascent for a good ten minutes before looking at each other at the same time with a knowing grin as they edged back towards the goblin camp.
Vrax pulled out the last unfinished lurker mushroom and started adapting it while Torvald kept watch from a tree, both of them daydreaming about what powers they might wield once they reached Red’s level. Vrax and Torvald loosely discussed the plan of attack for the goblin camp. Vrax managed to finish the changes to the mushroom, making it so all three of his lurkers were now of the deadly acidic variety. Red wasn’t as fast as he promised, but he did come blazing back after not too long of a wait.
He slid to a stop next to them and sheathed his blade. “Alright, where were we?” Red said and gestured to the goblin camp like nothing major had just happened.
Vrax paused for a moment. “Shouldn't we wait for that thing to get cleared out?” He gestured generally towards the Kraken.
Red snorted, “Like I said…...it won’t leave the clearing, so just don’t go over there and keep doing your thing. I would really like to have you bumpkins either need saving or clear the damn floor before the day is done. I have a fine glass of red and a comely lass calling my name back at the gilded tavern, and I'm going to be pissed if I miss it because you two keep dawdling to fondle plants,” Red said with a pointed look at Vrax.
Vrax nodded to Torvald, and they set out towards the goblin camp, Vrax gliding through the shadows and Torvald crashing ahead. Torvald broke into a full sprint as he broke into the open with a battle cry that froze the blood of the stunned goblins watching the insane warrior as he ran headlong past several tents, snatching a goblin with one hand and braining a guard as he flashed by. Torvald ran past the ambling goblins, fumbling for weapons, still shouting, until he came near the dead center of the camp beside the largest fire with a roasting spit on it. The goblin berserker was ready for him, an axe in each hand and a cruel smile on its face, as the majority of the camp rushed towards the fire.
Torvald started laying into the horde around him, charging into a duo with bows, snapping one's neck with a slap, and kicking the other through a lean-to tent. Then, as the crowd started surrounding him again, he focused on his real target, the goblin berserker. He threw the goblin still dangling in his grasp as hard as he could, bowling over a half dozen of its companions and clearing a path. His skill activated, and the mountain of muscle exploded from his position, soaring through the campfire in a shower of sparks, and hit the berserker with a flying knee so hard teeth rained into the motley crowd around them. The beast barely even noticed its shattered jaw swinging both axes with abandon. Torvald caught two hacking blows to the meat of his shoulder and retaliated with a downward swing that shattered the berserker’s attempt at a block, lodging its own axe deep within its chest. Then, dodging a few scattered strikes from the crowd around him, he finished it off with one swing to the leg, taking it down to the ground, and another to the downed foe's skull, spattering it across the ground.
“Now!” Vrax shouted from nearby.
Torvald charged up into the air out of the crowd now surrounding him, moored himself in space, and then sailed over the crowd towards the shaman in the distance. The confused goblins looked around and saw the smaller figure standing just on the edge of the firelight. Every bit of grass and insect near him had shriveled to ruined husks; even the nearby tanned tent had sloughed in on itself, rotted through. Around him were three mushrooms almost chest-high to the goblins, hissing an eerie green substance, and a slowly growing cloud of hypnotic green flickers of light.
Vrax cringed at the honest-to-gods goblin horde in front of him; Torvald had certainly managed to pull them all together. Vrax had lost count of exactly how many when he got to thirty. He was putting a hell of a lot of faith in his adapted creations here; if this didn’t work, Red would be bailing him out, or he might just die—that was a possibility too. As the goblin horde finally recovered from their surprise and began surging towards his trap like a wave of blades and fangs, Vrax took his fighting stance and dropped his cloak from his shoulders, activating the ever-thirsting cape. It flared around him into writhing bundles of roots, each pointing towards a different source of moisture, a different charging foe.
As the last step of his trap, Vrax pulsed his stigmata garden once again, flaying another nearby tent from its wooden frame. The Maneater Daisy appeared just inside of the hoard of goblins at the same time as the first of the hundreds of dandelion seeds hungrily sensed victims.