You move closer. The water is shallow here. It barely covers the tops of your feet. You kneel down near the closest orb. Careful not to touch it. Careful to stay away from the stalactites hanging overhead. Up close, the glow is different than you expected. It is not the sharp, clean light of magic. It is softer. More organic. Natural. You lean in. Examine the surface more carefully. There. Just beneath the crystalline shell. Tiny lines. Thread-thin. They branch and split like the veins in a leaf. Like blood vessels. They are so faint that you can barely see them. But they are there. Growing. Spreading slowly through the orb from some central point inside. Your breath catches. These are not stones. These are not crystals. These are [i]eggs[/i]. You study them more carefully now. The pattern of those tiny vessels. The thickness of the shell. The faint blue-green color that shifts beneath the surface. You have seen eggs like these before. Not often. But once was enough. Your mistresses kept creatures in their menagerie. Dangerous creatures. Useful creatures. Guard beasts that could see in darkness and strike without warning. Gloom-Croakers, they were called. Massive toad-like aberrations with skin that seemed to drink in light. With tongues that could wrap around a full-grown drow and crush the life from them. These are Gloom-Croaker eggs. The knowledge settles in your mind like a stone dropping into still water. The vascularization is so faint because these eggs are fresh. Newly laid. Perhaps only days old. Maybe a week at most. The mother would have laid them here in the shallow water where the temperature stays constant. Where predators rarely venture. And the mother would return. Gloom-Croakers are solitary creatures. They hunt alone. They live alone. But when it is time for their eggs to hatch, they come back. They always come back. Some instinct. Some biological clock that ticks inside them. They guard their young through the first dangerous days after hatching. You count the eggs. Fourteen. Perhaps fifteen. All from one mother. A full clutch. And the tadpoles... You have never seen Gloom-Croaker tadpoles yourself. But you have heard stories from the beast-keepers. The tadpoles are worse than the adults in some ways. They are aggressive from the moment they break free of their shells. They attack anything that moves. Anything warm. Anything alive. They are nearly impossible to train until they mature. Even your mistresses, with all their skill and magic, lost slaves trying to domesticate the young ones. The crab beside you makes a small clicking sound. Nyphl's glow dims further. Blibdoolpoolp stands at the entrance to the cavern. Waiting. Patient. His bulging eyes fixed on you. [b]"What does the Great SHOOGBIMBHALD see?"[/b] the high priest asks. [b]"What wisdom do the stones reveal?"[/b] [hider=OOC: Natural 20 on Survival + 22 on Arcana] With your exceptional rolls, you recognize exactly what these are and understand the situation completely: - These are Gloom-Croaker eggs (large toad-like aberrations your mistresses kept as guard beasts) - The glow is biological, not magical - The eggs are freshly laid (days to a week old) based on minimal vascularization - This is a full clutch from a single mother (14-15 eggs) - Gloom-Croakers are solitary but return when eggs are ready to hatch (biological instinct) - The tadpoles are extremely aggressive aberrations and nearly impossible to domesticate - Adult Gloom-Croakers can be trained and make powerful guards - The mother will definitely return when hatching time approaches [b]GLOOM-CROAKER TADPOLE[/b] [i]Small Aberration, Chaotic Evil[/i] ------------------------------------------------------------------------- [b]Armor Class[/b] 13 [b]Hit Points[/b] 16 (3d6 + 6) [b]Speed[/b] 0 ft., swim 40 ft. (hover) ------------------------------------------------------------------------- [b]STR[/b] 12 (+1) | [b]DEX[/b] 16 (+3) | [b]CON[/b] 14 (+2) [b]INT[/b] 2 (-4) | [b]WIS[/b] 10 (+0) | [b]CHA[/b] 6 (-2) ------------------------------------------------------------------------- [b]Senses[/b] blindsight 60 ft. (blind beyond this radius), passive Perception 10 [b]Languages[/b] — [b]Challenge[/b] 1/2 (100 XP) [b]Proficiency Bonus[/b] +2 ------------------------------------------------------------------------- [b]Amphibious Breathing.[/b] The tadpole can breathe underwater and on air. [b]Pack Tactics.[/b] The tadpole has advantage on an attack roll against a creature if at least one of the tadpole's allies is within 5 feet of the creature and the ally isn't incapacitated. [b]Sudden Surge.[/b] If the tadpole moves at least 20 feet straight toward a target and then hits it with a crystalline ram attack on the same turn, the target takes an extra 3 (1d6) piercing damage. If the target is a creature, it must succeed on a DC 11 Strength saving throw or be knocked prone. [b][u]ACTIONS[/u][/b] [b]Ram[/b] [i]Melee Weapon Attack:[/i] +5 to hit, reach 5 ft., one target. [i]Hit:[/i] 6 (1d6 + 3) piercing damage. [b]Shattering Dart (Recharge 5–6)[/b] The tadpole propels itself violently in a 30-foot line. Each creature in that line must make a DC 13 Dexterity saving throw, taking 10 (3d6) piercing damage on a failed save, or half as much damage on a successful one. The tadpole lands in an unoccupied space at the end of the line. [/hider] --- [b]What do you say or do?[/b]