The Pit of Maleficence

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The Descent

Long Rest in the Ancient Ruin

Fungal Abomination

Fungal Abomination Combat: Round 1

Fungal Abomination Combat: Round 2

Fungal Abomination Combat: Round 3

Fungal Abomination Combat: Round 4

Player Replies

The Descent

The air thickens as the Howlbears step toward the gaping maw of the staircase. A final glance at Xal’Zyress confirms what they already know—there is no turning back.

Orin steadies his breath, his fingers tightening around his grimoire, the worn leather grounding him. Not for Xal’Zyress. Not for some wretched artifact. His jaw tenses. For those who still draw breath.

As the group moves forward, his gaze flickers to the pulsing walls, the violet energy slithering through ancient runes. The glow twists and writhes in time with the heavy silence, an unseen pulse feeding into the stone itself. Not just power. Purpose. He narrows his eyes, tracing the connections, his mind working through the arcane threads.

(Arcana check - 18 Result.)

Orin’s mind traces the arcane threads, piecing together the unnatural flow of energy. The runes are not simply old remnants of power—they are active conduits, siphoning magic from this place and channeling it somewhere deeper below. Whether they strengthen something—or someone—remains unclear, but the sheer volume of power suggests that whatever lies ahead is feeding, waiting.

Azalie claps a hand against Mutt’s back, her voice a low whisper only for him.

“What artifact would keep a beholder away?” A smirk plays at her lips. “One that it’s scared of. Let’s go retrieve it, my friend.”

Ahead, the blackened stairwell gapes wide—a waiting maw of endless dark.

The Howlbears descend.

The stone steps spiral downward, stretching into a void untouched by time. The air thickens with each step, damp and heavy, pressing down as if something unseen is watching. The faint sound of shifting rubble echoes ahead—but only their own footsteps follow.

Then—the bottom.

A vast, rectangular chamber emerges from the darkness. The walls are carved stone, not cavernous or natural, but once carefully constructed—though time has gnawed away at its grandeur. The masonry, alien in design, is not Dwarven; its symmetry is too precise, too unnatural.

As soon as the last of you have stepped into the chamber,

A sudden pulse of crimson light spreads across the runes. The air warps. A low hum ripples outward—not an attack, but a command.

Behind them—the staircase vanishes.

Where the passage once led upward, a wall of shimmering energy now looms, shifting like a heat mirage, but solid as stone. The exit is gone.

At the same moment—Orin’s Mage Armor shreds apart.

The protective magic doesn’t fade—it’s ripped from existence, the spectral barrier around him torn away in a flash of violet sparks. The runes along the walls flicker—then settle back into their slow, pulsing glow.

Uptharr exhales sharply, turning back toward the stairs, his lantern’s light playing against the now solid wall of energy. He steps forward cautiously, pressing a gloved hand against it—solid as steel. A scowl deepens across his face.

“Well, that’s a problem.”

The walls bear the scars of time—stonework meticulously carved in ages past, now fractured and sagging in places, as if struggling to hold the weight of centuries. Runes line the perimeter of the room, faintly pulsing in hues of deep violet and sickly green. They shift, almost imperceptibly, in response to movement.

The Three Doors

On each wall of the chamber, there is a large arched door, sturdy with iron framework.

Each of the three doors before them is massive—thick ironwood, tarnished with time but still formidable. Their design is strange, each one featuring a large, circular locking mechanism in the center. Rather than a traditional bar, the locks appear to function automatically, designed to reset and seal the doors once passed through.

The mechanisms bear fresh scratches, as if past adventurers tried—and failed—to break them open. Deep gouges mar the surfaces, some etched with frantic writing—desperate messages from those who came before.

One phrase, barely legible beneath the dust, reads: "No way back. We were fools—"

One door, however, stands partially open—but only just. A single, loose brick has been jammed into the threshold, preventing the locking mechanism from engaging. The edges of the stone are worn, as if someone—or something—wedged it there in a desperate attempt to keep the way open.

The partially open door remains motionless, its iron frame groaning faintly as the stale air shifts. A whisper of a cold draft seeps through the narrow gap—something beyond stirs.

Near this door, the remnants of an old campfire rest in a bed of scattered bones and broken gear—the last trace of adventurers that were here a long time ago.

• A rusted helmet, its owner nowhere in sight.

• A shattered longsword, its blade dulled from overuse.

• An old leather armor set, still mostly intact

  
  

Uptharr steps forward, raising his lantern as the golden light flickers across the heavy iron doors. His brow furrows as he studies the strange circular locking mechanisms, running a gloved hand across the deep gouges in the metal.

“These doors weren’t sealed with bars… they were designed to shut on their own.” He steps back, eyeing the partially open one with the loose brick wedged in its frame. “This one looks like—whoever was here before us didn’t want to be trapped on the other side.”

Decide what you want to do. This chamber appears safe enough to rest in—aside from the door left slightly ajar, its darkened threshold yawning into the unknown. The room is steeped in shadow, illuminated only by the eerie, shifting glow of the faint runes and the flickering light of Uptharr’s lantern, casting long, restless shapes along the walls.

5 minutes have passed

Current Time: 1:27 PM

Date: Eighthday , 28 , Alturiak , 1742

Temperature: 52°

Current Phase: Exploration

Long Rest in the Ancient Ruin

The oppressive silence of the chamber is broken only by the quiet crackle of Mutt’s cooking fire and the whispers of voices filled with uncertainty.

Dorf tenderly helps Hruna into the leather armor, cautious not to aggravate her wounds. He hands her the Drow stiletto, accompanying the short sword from Uptharr.

"Do you want this shield? It mostly just gets in my way," he offers softly.

Hruna gives a weak smile, warmed by Dorf's gentle care.

"Aye, Dorf—I'll take it. Feels good tae hold somethin' sturdy again."

His stomach growls, a reminder of hunger, and Dorf immediately hands her his last apple.

"Here, eat this while I get more food ready." He prepares dried meat softened into a broth for her, munching quietly on rations himself, stealing occasional glances in quiet disbelief that she is truly beside him. He carefully places his backpack beneath her head. "Rest," he whispers gently.

Mutt, at first withdrawn and quiet, works diligently at his cooking. He tosses the last bits of meat and vegetables into a pot, preparing a simple dwarven stew. When finished, he approaches Dorf and quietly hands over a bowl. Mutt rubs the back of his neck, awkwardly muttering,

"Tell her I… I don't know what to tell her. 'I'm sorry' isn't enough. Just…take care of her."

Hruna overhears, reaching out and gently grasping Mutt's arm. Her expression is kind, despite her pain.

"Dinnae beat yerself up, lad. Xal'Zyress always meant death fer us—or worse. Ye did what ye could. Ah'll not forget it. None o' us will."

Azalie watches quietly, absorbing every emotion playing out among her friends. Azalie offers Mutt the most tender smile she can muster. If only he knew. She glides past Mutt, lightly brushing his arm, a subtle gesture of reassurance. 

“The damage done by her captors will wane, and she will smile again soon.”

She knows he's angry, confused, and aching to defend Hruna’s honor.

"Hruna isn’t broken. She will be okay."

Softly, she settles near Hruna, motioning silently toward the potion hidden in Hruna’s pocket.

"I am here to listen..." she whispers, needing no other words to bridge the unspoken understanding between them.

She stays, letting Hruna tell her everything—how they abused her, how the Beholder turned her own team against her. Azalie listens in silence, absorbing each painful detail.

When Hruna finishes, the team looks even more horrified, even more weighed down. They need to be ready. This is an ancient place, far older than her. At 301 years old, she knows the wisdom history can offer. She takes in the ruins, the masterful craftsmanship, searching for any detail that might spark a memory.

Azalie then rises, stepping toward the remnants of the old campfire, thoughtfully kicking through the debris as Mutt begins his ritual. As Mutt tries to create the familiar dome of Tiny Hut, the magic flares briefly before violently dissipating, consumed by the pulsating runes etched into the chamber’s walls.

"I really hate this place," Mutt growls, frustration etched deep into his features as the magic is ripped away.

Observing this, Orin's stomach knots. He clenches his jaw, analyzing the situation. No ordinary anti-magic ward would unravel a spell so violently. He flexes his fingers, feeling the cold, exposed air. He steps closer to inspect the runes, tracing the arcane signatures carefully (Arcana Check: 21).

He casts a cautious glance at his companions. "That was not just an anti-magic effect," he murmurs, voice tense.

"These runes are actively drawing power—siphoning it somewhere deeper. Something below us is feeding."

Testing further, Orin murmurs the familiar incantation for Blade Ward, feeling relieved when it manifests without interruption. Encouraged, he casts Shield, watching carefully as a shimmering barrier appears briefly, then dissipates normally.

Across the chamber, seeing Dorf striking fruitlessly at the runes, Fizzbum sets his own test in motion. He experiments with several spells, observing keenly:

• Produce Flame ignites, unaffected by the room.

• Poison Spray successfully manifests, misting harmlessly.

• But when he attempts Minor Illusion, the conjured image shimmers uneasily, flickering toward the end of its duration as though something in the Pit attempts to tear it apart, though it holds just long enough to complete.

Meanwhile, Azalie carefully approaches the partially open door, straining to listen. Faint muffled sounds drift back from the darkness—impossible to pinpoint. Perhaps distant voices, perhaps mournful groans, nothing certain.

She calls Mellon closer, chanting quietly to speak with him. Mellon’s eyes meet hers, his thoughts simple, sharp, primal:

"Eyes. Many eyes. Floating. Watching. Dark ones quiet. Tentacle-faced one silent. Afraid."

The message is clear, but as Mellon continues, Azalie senses the spell's connection subtly fraying, a static whisper at the edges of her awareness—a gentle warning. After about a minute of speaking with Mellon, the spell gets a static energy crackle and then ends prematurely.

Mutt finishes preparing his stew and passes food around quietly. Uptharr takes a ration gratefully from him, sharing a brief, wordless smile of gratitude.

Azalie turns then, facing the group. Her voice breaks the silence, low at first but rising steadily:

“Three doors, one open. At least there isn’t a flying bag of eyeballs in here.” Her gaze moves across the weary faces of her companions, her voice firm. “This place is very old. I can sense something…dangerous. We should attempt a rest.”

Azalie turns to the Howlbears. Uptharr stands, but his soul kneels. He has been silent since the Beholder… no, longer than that. Dorf has passed the point of anger. She wonders if he will ever let himself show how this has truly affected him. But for now, he stays strong, protecting Hruna.

And then there's Fizz. Always the one to find the light in the darkest places, always the first to laugh in the face of fear. But even he is quiet now. That unsettles her more than anything. If Fizz has nothing hopeful to say, just how bad have things become?

She exhales slowly, then speaks—low at first.

“Here we are. Right back where we began.”

Her voice rises.

“In a hole, in a mountain, surrounded by vicious beasts. Just like when this adventure started.”

She steps forward, her body moving with her words, hands weaving a story.

“There we were. Unarmed, unconscious, unknown. Attacked by an Ice Giant, left as food for its yeti dogs.” Azalie’s energy builds. “We didn’t even know each other’s names. We didn’t have a pot to cook in. But we prevailed.”

She stands tall, eyes wide, looking at each of them.

“…And here we are today. Barely armed, barely conscious, surrounded by vicious beasts.”

She takes a deep breath, her momentum carrying her forward.

"If we die today, so be it. At least we die together. I will fight for the Howlbears until the last of us falls. Who’s with me?"

Quiet nods and murmurs of assent ripple through the room—hope, however small, returning.

Mutt cocks his head to the side, considering Azalie’s words. He shakes his head and chuckles. He puts on the first genuine smile in a while and claps a hand on Azalie’s shoulder.

“You’re right. We’re right back where we started. I’m not sure why that makes me feel better, but it does.”

The room remains still throughout their rest, though the oppressive atmosphere never lifts. The walls pulse gently with eldritch energy, as if breathing slowly around them.

Uptharr eventually stands, closely examining the strange doors with circular locking mechanisms. His fingers run across deep gouges and dried flecks of blood. He finally pushes the loose brick from the partially opened door, sealing it shut with a heavy groan of ironwood and iron.

“Whoever wedged this open didn't want to get trapped, but I'd rather secure our backs before moving forward.”

He turns back toward the group, resolute. "We’ll have to choose one of these doors to proceed—there’s no going back now. Whatever's down here awaits."

(Long Rest Completed Without Incident)

The oppressive silence of the chamber is broken only by the soft crackle of the dying cooking fire. A tense stillness settles upon the Howlbears as they gather themselves after the long rest, feeling renewed strength—but also the unsettling sensation of eyes upon them, watching from beyond the walls.

Azalie uses her Primeval Awareness

Azalie steadies her breathing, closing her eyes as she taps into her primal senses. A chill crawls along her spine as she reaches out, sensing threats in every direction. The Pit responds immediately: her awareness floods with the unmistakable presence of undead and aberrations—ghostly whispers of restless spirits, the crawling, invasive consciousness of aberrant minds, and deep beneath them something vast, ancient, and slumbering. It pulses, distant but undeniable. Azalie opens her eyes, her expression tight with unease.

Uptharr stands slowly, shouldering his pack with grim determination.

"We've rested long enough. Before we move, we should see exactly what we're dealing with here."

He steps to the doors, lantern held high, casting wavering shadows over their ironwood surfaces. "Three doors, each sealed tight," he murmurs, examining the locking mechanisms carefully. "Once closed, I don't see any way we could reopen them. The mechanisms appear to lock automatically—no handles, no keyholes. We'd best choose wisely."

Uptharr moves decisively, approaching the rightmost door first. He grips the circular mechanism and rotates it along its track with a heavy metallic clunk. The door slowly swings inward, revealing a narrow corridor beyond.

The Right Door

As the First door opens (the one that was previously propped open with the stone), cold air drifts forth, carrying with it haunting echoes—faint, indistinct voices rising and falling, weaving together into a tapestry of sorrowful murmurs. Darkvision reveals only the outline of a narrow hall stretching forward beyond 60 feet, straight and featureless. Yet the whispers drift clearly from somewhere deeper within—mournful, pleading, agonized.“Why...why are we here...?”“...couldn't escape…”“Not again… no, please…”

Uptharr closes the right door slowly, shutting out the eerie whispers with an unsettling clang. He moves to the center door, breathing slowly as he rotates the circular mechanism along its track.

The Center Door

With a reluctant groan, the Second door swings inward. (the center door)

Immediately, faint violet light from etched runes along the walls glimmers in the distance, pulsing rhythmically, illuminating a hall lined with grotesque shapes.

Peering down the central passage, the Howlbears see dozens of twisted, malformed statues standing silently along the hallway—adventurers caught mid-transformation, frozen in positions of agony. Their warped silhouettes cast unsettling shadows along the corridor. Occasionally, something deeper within stirs, the faint but unmistakable sound of shuffling footsteps scraping along stone. Then silence again, thick and waiting.

Uptharr pushes the door shut firmly, exhaling deeply.

The Left Door

He then approaches the third and final door to the left, giving the mechanism a decisive twist. The heavy portal reluctantly swings inward, groaning as if resisting being opened.

Instantly, a pungent, earthy scent rushes forth, powerful enough to make eyes water—a heady mix of decay, mold, and damp vegetation. Their darkvision reveals a smooth stone hall descending slightly downward into darkness. Yet nothing immediately visible explains the overwhelming smell of rot. No vines, no fungi—just impenetrable darkness stretching into uncertainty, hinting that something strange lies hidden further in.

Uptharr steps back, looking at each door in turn. "That's all we can see from here," he says grimly. "We must choose carefully—once we enter and these doors close behind us, there’s no turning back...unless we prop open the door we pass through."

He glances to the others, awaiting their decision.

Decision Point:

• Right Door (Echoing Whispers): Haunting murmurs, featureless corridor.

• Middle Door (Statues & Shuffling): Pulsing violet runes, grotesque figures, distant shuffling.

• Left Door (Strong earthy smell): Dark hall, strong earthy scent of decay.

9 Hours Pass

Current Time: 10:27 PM

Date: Eighthday, 28, Alturiak, 1742

Temperature: 49°Current Phase: Exploration

Corruption Level: Minimal, but rising slowly

Fungal Abomination

The Howlbears gather their gear, kicking out the remnants of their campfire. Uptharr carefully props a brick in the open door, a sense of uneasy determination hanging in the air. Mutt stands a safe distance back, crossbow loaded and ready, breathing slightly easier when no immediate threat emerges from the newly opened passages.

"I don't like any of these options," Mutt sighs heavily, glancing at the vanished staircase.

"The disembodied voices from the first door could be the folks who used this camp before us—so, not thrilled about that." He eyes the violet runes lining the second passage warily. "The middle door has the same violet runes that keep eating our spells. I'd like to keep some magic intact—I’m sure Orin and Fizz would too."

He chuckles softly, nudging Fizz playfully. "That leaves the third door. I don't like the smell, but maybe we'll get lucky and find Fizz's long-lost cousin to help us out."

Azalie shifts onto her tiptoes to peer cautiously through each opened door as Uptharr examines them. She winces at the loud creaking hinges, whispering quietly,

"Oh, I don’t think I ever want to go that way. I've seen something like that come alive before." Her voice drops further. "I don’t want to end up like Jack Jules Nobody."

She scans her companions’ faces, not sure if they recognize the tale of heroes who met their end fighting in the fiery plains of Avernus.

She then nods firmly toward the odorous left passage. "I still vote for this one. Maybe we’ll smell bad enough that whatever’s down here will send us away." She pauses, smirking slightly. "So…who’s going first?"

Orin takes a quiet breath, settling himself as he reaches for his grimoire. Whispering the familiar incantation, Mage Armor envelops him briefly, but after a minute, the runes along the walls glow faintly, dissolving the protective magic gently, leaving Orin with a sinking feeling. He murmurs, half to himself,

"This place feels… tainted. We should decide quickly. If the corruption here is rising, we can't afford to hesitate."

He holds up a hand, briefly illuminating each hallway with a Light spell, the glow piercing just enough darkness to reveal vague shapes. "I’d rather face what’s ahead than let it creep up behind us."

Dorf shoulders his pack silently, placing himself protectively beside Hruna—close enough to intervene instantly, far enough to respect her independence. Anxiety simmers within him, every instinct screaming to stay and care for Hruna, but he remains silent, determined to follow wherever the others decide.

Hruna places a gentle hand on Dorf's shoulder, quietly offering support. "Whatever's down here, we've already faced worse. I'm not slowing you down, Dorf. Let's keep moving, together."

Uptharr closes the discussion decisively, nodding toward the leftmost passage.

"These doors close for good—let's make certain we’re ready." He adjusts the grip on his lantern, its faint glow steadying. "I agree with Azalie and Mutt—we move carefully, we move now."

With deliberate effort, he props a loose brick firmly in the threshold of the doorway, ensuring a means of retreat—or so it seems.

The group gathers, deciding upon the leftmost tunnel, the source of the rotting, earthy stench. Weapons drawn, senses alert, the Howlbears step forward into the unknown.

As the Howlbears advance down the leftmost passage, the heavy stench of earth, mold, and decay grows steadily thicker. Spores drift lazily through the stale air, swirling softly as the party disturbs them in passing.

At the sharp right bend in the passage, the corridor ahead darkens even further. The glow of Uptharr’s lantern flickers weakly, casting eerie, shifting shadows across thickening patches of fungal growth on walls and floor.

The party carefully moves forward, stepping over twisted fungal roots and swollen mushrooms that carpet the stone floor. Approximately fifteen feet from where the corridor widens into a larger chamber, the final member of the group crosses an unnoticed threshold—a faint rune carved discreetly into the floor beneath a thin layer of fungal matter.

Instantly, hidden runes along the walls blaze with sudden violet brilliance. Behind the party, a shimmering, translucent barrier springs to life exactly where they just passed, sealing their retreat completely. The sudden flash and hum of magic echoes through the tunnel, a harsh reminder of their entrapment.

From the darkness ahead, a deep, wet groan fills the air. Something stirs in the darkness, awakening from its dormant state. Tendrils begin to twist and writhe along the walls, responding to the party’s presence, disturbing the spores into a thick, swirling cloud.

All party members must immediately roll a Constitution saving throw (DC 15)

(Post will continue after save throws are rolled)

As the spores fill the air, your minds begin to feel strangely disconnected. For those who fail to resist their influence, the grotesque fungal mass ahead appears momentarily as something entirely different—a pleasant illusion of happier, peaceful times:

Mutt, Azalie, Hruna, and Uptharr Are Hallucinating

• (If hallucinating): The mass transforms in your eyes—a sunlit meadow, the warmth of a roaring hearth, or perhaps loved ones long lost. The dangers ahead fade into a comforting vision, distracting you from the real threat lurking just steps away.

Dorf, Orin and Fizzbum are not Hallucinating

• (If the save is successful): You see the horrifying truth—a sprawling, pulsating mound of corrupted fungal matter, its form composed of countless rotting bodies, mouths silently screaming, hollow eyes staring blankly ahead.

The fungal horror is fully awake now, its countless limbs and tendrils quivering in hungry anticipation. There is no turning back—the only way forward lies behind the abomination.

Roll for Initiative.

Those Hallucinating - you can still roll for initiative, however you do not see the Fungal Abominations (any of them) you won't attack hostiles, your actions each turn are either: Walk toward the abomination (10 feet), or stand and stare. At the end of your turn you can make another Save throw (DC 15). If other players not currently hallucinating take the "aid" action, they can attempt to snap you out of it - you get advantage on your save and can attempt another try the moment the player tries to aid you.

Current Time: 6:47 AM

Date: Ninthday, 29, Alturiak, 1742

Temperature: 49°

Current Phase: Encounter

Corruption Level: Increasing rapidly (Spore hallucinations active)

Fungal Abomination Combat: Round 1

Uptharr

Uptharr stands dazed, his mind consumed by pleasant yet debilitating hallucinations, staring blankly into empty space.

Dorf

Undeterred by the chaos, Dorf charges forward, his primal rage igniting as he roars, "Freakin plants!!!" He swings "Precious" furiously, tearing through the fungal growth for 12 damage, then swiftly follows up with a powerful blow dealing 19 damage, utterly destroying the creature in a burst of rage.

Fungal Creepers

The fungal creepers shamble forward, claws extended threateningly toward Dorf and Azalie, They each make two attacks, but all their strikes miss!

Hruna

Hruna staggers forward in a hallucinogenic haze, each step heavy with confusion. She suddenly snaps out of it, regaining her bearings and drawing her blade, steeling herself for combat.

Mutt

Initially lost in a daze, Mutt blindly stumbles forward toward the abomination. Abruptly, clarity returns; he shakes off the spores' effects, readies himself, and prepares to rejoin the battle.

Azalie

Azalie darts swiftly forward, shaking off her hallucinations with a curse, readying her weapons. Her clarity is brief, however, as grasping fungal tendrils seize her, dragging her painfully into a cloud of toxic spores. Another burst of spores engulfs her, dealing 10 poison damage and plunging her into hallucinations once more.

Fizzbum

Fizzbum rushes across the battlefield excitedly shouting, "Well well! Let’s see if we can even the odds, Fungusface!" He conjures two giant toads, then whispers a quick healing spell toward Azalie, rejuvenating her with 11 healing.

Giant Toads

Two massive summoned toads leap into action immediately, snapping at fungal creepers. One toad bites savagely, critically wounding and grappling its target for 22 damage, while the second clamps down tightly, grappling another creeper for 4 damage.

Orin

Orin hurriedly pulls out his Wand of Magic Missiles, firing three glowing darts at the fungal growth restraining Azalie. His magic missiles strike true, dealing 9 damage, loosening its grip.

Fungal Abominations

The fungal abominations retaliate viciously against Azalie, unleashing a barrage of whipping tendrils. One misses narrowly, but two others brutally lash her for 6 damage and a devastating critical strike for 14 damage. A final strike lands solidly, delivering another heavy blow for 10 damage, leaving Azalie battered but defiantly standing her ground.

1 Round has passed

Fungal Abomination Combat: Round 2

Uptharr

Uptharr remains lost in pleasant hallucinations, his gaze vacant, oblivious to the chaos surrounding him.

Dorf

In a fierce display of rage, Dorf leaps onto the Giant Toad, launching himself at a Fungal Growth and slashing it brutally with "Precious" for 17 damage, destroying it.

Still raging, he cleaves another Creeper nearly in two for another 17 damage, before swiftly finishing it with his Drow Longsword for 12 damage, killing it instantly.

Fungal Creepers

A Fungal Creeper lashes out desperately at the Giant Toad, landing one claw for 7 damage before missing wildly with its second strike.

Hruna

Hruna steps forward decisively, driving her Drow Short Sword into a Creeper, slashing it deeply for 9 damage.

Mutt

Mutt moves closer into the fray, firing a panicked crossbow bolt.

Confused

"Wha...Ah shit! Hang on Az!"

Miraculously, the bolt ricochets off the wall, striking a Fungal Growth for 6 damage, killing it.

He quickly casts a healing spell on Azalie, restoring her for 10 HP.

Azalie

Bolstered by Mutt’s healing, Azalie throws her Bronze Dagger, striking a Creeper mockingly for 8 damage. She swiftly hurls her Jade Dagger, critically striking a Fungal Abomination for 16 damage, though it shrugs off half the impact.

Fungal Growths

A growth grabs Dorf unsuccessfully, while another seizes Uptharr, dealing 4 damage and dragging him closer to the Abomination.

Another entangles Azalie, grappling her tightly and dealing 2 damage.

Fizzbum

Powerfully

"If only I had some cream sauce to go along with all these cooked mushrooms!"

Fizzbum enthusiastically hurls fire, obliterating a Creeper in flames for 22 damage. He then cheers on Azalie, healing her for 12 HP with a joyful shout: "Nice moves Azzy! Keep it up!"

Giant Toads

One Giant Toad swallows a fallen Fungal Creeper whole, then moves forward.

The second toad snaps at another Growth, missing its bite.

Orin

Orin rushes into position, casting Ray of Frost. His spell hits a Fungal Abomination for 14 damage, though it resists, only taking half (7 damage).

Fungal Abominations

The Abominations retaliate fiercely. Dorf suffers multiple brutal lashes, enduring a critical strike for 9 damage and two additional hits for 2 damage each.

Azalie narrowly evades a grapple attempt, but another Abomination blasts her with toxic spores; she successfully resists, taking only 8 damage. A Giant Toad isn't as fortunate, becoming poisoned and suffering 12 damage.

The Abominations also regenerate nearby fungal growths, restoring them for 6 HP, 10 HP and 9 HP, reinforcing their ranks.

Azalie

Save Successful: Azalie withstands another toxic blast with a perfect resistance, unharmed by further spores.

2 Rounds Passed

Fungal Abomination Combat: Round 3

Uptharr

Uptharr finally shakes free of his hallucinations, regaining his senses and preparing for battle, though he is grappled and dragged forward by a fungal growth, suffering 5 points of crushing damage. He also endures a spore cloud, taking another 6 points of poison damage but avoids hallucinating again.

Dorf

Dorf angrily hurls an Alchemist’s Fire onto a Fungal Abomination, igniting it for 8 points of fire damage. He then fiercely attacks a Fungal Growth twice with "Precious," hitting first for 13 damage, then finishing it with another slash for 11 damage, killing it. Later, Dorf skillfully parries a tendril lash aimed at him, completely evading damage.

Hruna

Hruna moves swiftly to Dorf’s side, shouting support, "I got yer back, Dorf!" She lands a decisive blow against another Fungal Growth, dealing 10 damage and destroying it.

Mutt

Mutt expertly fires his crossbow, critically striking a fungal growth and dealing 4 damage, killing it.

Nervously, he heals Azalie for 11 HP, cautioning her about her risky position near the fungal monsters.

Azalie

Azalie casts Hail of Thorns, empowering her next attack. With determination, she fires a fiery arrow at a Fungal Abomination, scoring a devastating critical hit and expending luck to triple her damage, inflicting an incredible 57 points—instantly killing the creature. However, she suffers 3 points of splash damage from her own spell. She narrowly avoids another spore attack, taking only 1 damage, but remains grappled, enduring an additional 6 points of crushing damage.

Fungal Growths

A growth continues grappling Azalie, dealing 6 damage. Another maintains a grip on Uptharr, inflicting 5 damage and pulling him closer to the Abomination. One growth releases toxic spores, dealing 6 damage to Uptharr, though he resists further hallucination.

Fizzbum

Fizzbum conjures a powerful flame, critically striking a fungal growth, dealing a massive 22 points of fire damage and incinerating it immediately.

Giant Toads

One Giant Toad lunges forward, biting and grappling a fungal growth for 10 damage.

Another moves to engage but its attack is unresolved.

Orin

Orin fires another Ray of Frost, hitting a Fungal Abomination for 10 points of damage, though its resistance reduces the damage to 5 points.

Fungal Abominations

The remaining abominations lash out aggressively. Azalie is struck hard, suffering 11 points of damage, while other attacks narrowly miss thanks to timely interventions from Dorf and Mutt.

One Abomination regenerates a nearby fungal growth, restoring it by 4 HP.

Mutt cleverly uses cutting words to distract an attacking abomination, causing its attack to miss Azalie.

3 rounds have passed

Fungal Abomination Combat: Round 4

UptharrUptharr lands a lucky strike with his Shortsword +2, dealing 13 damage, killing the Fungal Growth attacking him. His follow-up attack, however, misses completely.

Dorf

Dorf, enraged, first swings his Drow Longsword, dealing 9 damage, finishing off a Fungal Growth. He then moves forward, ignites Precious, and unleashes two furious strikes at two separate Fungal Abominations—both devastatingly effective. His first swing deals a massive 44 fire damage, killing one abomination instantly. Dorf swiftly pivots to a second Abomination, delivering another flaming strike for 54 fire damage, killing that one as well.

Hruna

Hruna swiftly moves into position, striking the remaining Fungal Abomination with her Drow Short Sword, landing a solid blow for 8 damage.

Mutt

Mockingly

"You`re not a very fun-guy after all!"

Mutt attempts Vicious Mockery on the Abomination, dealing no damage due to its psychic immunity but successfully imposing disadvantage on its next attack.

Bewildered

"Azalie, have you considered not attacking that thing with your face?!"

He then casts Healing Word on Azalie, restoring 10 HP 

Azalie

Excited

“Thanks for the advice Mutt.” If he could smell them. Azalie needs a bath. “Would you die!” Azalie marks her prey and pulls her string back a little harder then normal. She can’t stop thinking about her jade dagger. She’s and it’s covered in fungal filth.

Azalie fires two arrows at the Fungal Abomination, her first arrow landing strongly, dealing 18 damage, thanks to the fire enchantment. Her second shot deals another 13 damage, again benefiting from fire vulnerability. However, she's grappled tighter, suffering 4 crushing damage and becomes dangerously merged with the fungal mass. A toxic spore blast hits her for an additional 14 poison damage, causing her to succumb to its effects.

Fungal Growths

The remaining Fungal Growth continues grappling Azalie, dragging her into the Abomination.

Fizzbum

Fizzbum hurls a Produce Flame spell, which initially goes wildly astray but ricochets off the ceiling, luckily striking the Fungal Growth grappling Azalie, dealing 14 fire damage and killing it instantly.

Orin KalladrisOrin fires another Ray of Frost, successfully hitting the Fungal Abomination for 12 damage, though resistance reduces this to 6 damage.

Fungal Abomination

The final Abomination retaliates, releasing a toxic spore blast. Azalie takes 14 poison damage and succumbs, Hruna suffers 16 poison damage, halved to 8 due to resistance, and Dorf takes just 4 damage due to his successful save and rage. The creature is affected by Mutt’s mockery, imposing disadvantage on its next turn, though it resists any psychic harm.

4 Rounds have passed

Uptharr smites the Fungal Abomination with his Short sword dealing 6 radiant damage and 12 piercing damage, killing it!

As the last fungal abomination dies, the room is thick with the stench of musty fungal spores as the last of the growths stop twitching. Azalie and Hruna remain poisoned and need remedies immediately as the toxins are working fast.

Fizz's giant toads suddenly vanish as his spell is torn apart by the runes in the room.

Everyone is feeling ill, breathing the toxic spores.

Current Time: 6:48AM

Date: Ninthday, 29, Alturiak, 1742

Temperature: 49°

Current Phase: Encounter

Corruption Level: Increasing rapidly

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