Home Stretch only 4 weeks left! Can you feel the burn?

After removing each of the tentacles from the Furbthulu, the Warrior raised her nailbat to finish the beast off.

“Wait!” the bard cried

The Healer punted the head one last time then looked around sheepishly.

“Whaaaat? I’m helping.”

The Bard carefully retrieved the head from the corner of the cabin and placed it on the table. The mouth opened and closed soundlessly.

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The Bard cocked his head, “Listen closely, do you hear that?”

Everyone was silent, finally the mage nodded, “I hear it.”

The Warrior looked confused, “I hear nothing,” she said.

The Bard continues, “As the mage and I must be more in tune to musical or magical elements we’re able to hear it. Regardless, the beast here calls for its master. Team, we’ve just found our ticket to Lord Furbamon!”

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Grandpa looked annoyed. Also ridiculous.

“How do you propose to that you fop?”

The bard plucked at a string then looked pensive a second. He shook his head and struck another.

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“If I can determine the exact resonance frequency of this call, I can back interpolate the geospatial coordinates based on thermal conduits running beneath our feet. Using that information I should be able to triangulate a relay that will lead us straight to him!”

The healer picked earwax out of Furbthulu’s ears.

The Bard rolled his eyes and went back to plucking strings. Finally he stood up, “I know this! It’s a eunuch’s system!” Realization dawned on him and he patted the Furbthulu’s head, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

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Placing the head in a bag, the adventurer’s set out, the bard stopping every couple hundred feet to pluck at a string and listen before determining their next course of action.

Meanwhile, Lord Furbamon, sensing his monster’s defeat scowled. He rifled through the Furbinomicon until he found what he was looking for. He made a series of whistles and a portal opened nearby. A small furby emerged and said, “After 10,000 years I’m freeeeeeee!”

Lord Furbamon spoke, and the Furby listened.

***

Resting for a minute the healer fed the Furbthulu scraps of shoe leather, while the rest of the group discussed.

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“So, what’s our plan?” The mage asked the warrior.

“We need to find a way into his secret hideout but we can guess that he has powerful magic to protect him. He may even know we’re on our way now. We may have no choice but to undergo a full frontal assault. We- wait, what’s that.”

By this time, the Bard and Mage had been listening so intently to the Furbthulu’s cries that they’d failed to hear the sound of crunching snow marching towards them. Looking round to where the warrior stood with her weapon out, they both assumed battle positions. As the figure came into view it became apparent that it was small and round.

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“Oh my God! It’s so CUUUUUTTTTEEEEE!” The healer swooned. Tearing off a piece of his shoe he threw it to the small creature, “Here buddy, eat up!”

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The Furby, who had planned on obliterating all four of them with his self destruct megaton bomb that Lord Furbamon had made him swallow, realized that megaton bombs were not very filling. He hopped over to the shoe leather and thought, “Welp, Lord Furbamon didn’t offer me a last meal, may as well make the most of it!”

As the shoe leather went down his throat a series of changes came over him. He felt his skin start to burn and his fur fell off. He also didn’t feel very good at all.

“Sweet Jesus, what the hell is that?” The healer scrambled backwards just in time to avoid having gallons of acidic stomach acid and what appeared to be a bomb of some sorts, vomited onto his fine burlap sack.

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The Furby looked at the mage with pleading eyes, and then threw up again at her feet.

Put it out of its misery!

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Fed After Midnight
FurbyDamage
Vomit12
Damage TypeSpell
Hit Points55
Hit Points Left55
Damage ResistanceNone
Crit Chance25%

Note: This monster has a 1 in 4 chance to crit you for 18 damage. Stock up! Hope everyone has a great fourth of July!

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