Bugs in the swamps of the Marsh Flats aren’t exactly uncommon. There are plenty of oversized creepy crawlies, and some of them make delicious treats when prepared properly. Das is not one to think lowly of bugs besides the gnats or flies that tend to be an annoyance on particularly hot and humid days. Lately, though, there have been complaints about some particularly dangerous swarms of wasps, and what better way could Das start to make up for some of his past than by helping some of the villages he helped raid?

So that’s what he does. Now, Das is fully aware that a very large Fellblood man with red armor and a big sword walking into a village may not be a good look, but when that village is currently being terrorized by a swarm of killer wasps, no one really bats an eye at him. They’re too busy running for their lives.

“Okay, okay, there’s a lot going on here,” he says to himself, his one good eye looking around for any kind of solution amongst the chaos. There aren’t a lot of options besides uh… fighting with fire. However, he sees a couple of people in the crowd who seem like they want to take action perhaps? Calling out and waving his arm, Das says, “Hey, if you’ve got the means to deal with these things, help me out!” And then he draws his greatsword, the blade glowing white hot with heat, and charges into the fray.

---

Quest details:

SPOILER: Click to show

Quest Name: Attack of the Killer Wasps
Participants: Two or more
Location: Moonglade, Marshflats, Kings' Valley
Post Requirements: 5 posts per person, 200 words per post
Reward: +1 Renown
Description: People have been getting used to the presence of Fae in Charon. Many of the creatures have even begun to find places to call home. However the nature of the Fae remains the same, with many of them still pulling pranks and causing mischief. We are unsure of where it started or who began the trend, but pockets of Fae are now starting to release thousands of wasps into isolated areas, such as small villages or areas of high travel. Locals are being bombarded with the swarms of wasps, which is causing quite the disruption. We need brave adventurers to help locals survive the swarm and find a way to rid the area of the pesky creatures.

Das hears a cacophony of voices as all of the villagers speak at once. Das cannot make out any words through the noisy conglomerate. Sometimes he can hear someone laughing or weeping, sometimes it seems some of them are just making sounds for the hell of it. After a few moments, Daz realizes that it's not the villagers around him making all the ruckus, the ruckus is coming from inside his head. As another moment passes, the voices seem to fade away, not completely gone, just retreating to the background as silent murmurs as a single voice cuts clearly through them. "Greetings. If you're here to rid the village of those yellow flying things from the Fae, would you mind if I accompanied you? You see, I'm a researcher of sorts, and would like to study these otherworldly pests. Oh, by the way, I'm the handsome lad in the green cloak, hehehe." (Message)

As that message is sent telepathically, Daz can see part of the crowd giving a wide berth to a man with a green cloak. The people nearest to him wear faces marred by plain disgust. Although this man is wearing a green cloak, handsome... might not be the operative word here. This man waves towards Daz, his larger eye seems to bulge with concerning intensity as Daz locks eyes with him, yet despite that, this man wears a goofy smile on his lips.

The green man was not alone in receiving odd looks. Any villager that wasn’t preoccupied with panic edged away, heads down, from one other individual.

Said individual met Das’s one eye with six of his own, all magenta ringed with purple. Standing over 7 feet, none could miss this lanky creature. Not with that pale skin. 

He glanced around in confusion, thinking Das’s call was directed to someone else. Upon seeing everyone else- minus one “person” -currently ran about like lost chickens, he yelled out his reply to the Fellblood since he lacked telepathy.



“You want help? Sure thing! I can probably figure out something; gimme a second-“



As of now, he had his four arms tucked close into his body away from stingers. The four legs were slightly hunched as he tried to stay low in his scurry towards Das. 
A wasp flew a bit too close to his face for his comfort, to which he swiftly snapped at it, flashing a decent set of fangs before his jaw audibly clicked shut.

…He missed the wasp, but it was clear he had at least one thing on his arsenal.

Das takes the weird chorus of voices as nothing unusual. Things are pretty chaotic with the village being under attack and all. What’s so strange to him is the single voice cutting through it all that is also in his head. The Fellblood looks around confused and then manages to spot the green cloak. His run slows to a stop as he pauses to take in what he’s just experienced. Then he shrugs it off, waves back, and shouts, “Well come on, I need all the help I can get!”

And at about that time, Das finds a response from another person – this one being mighty bug-like in appearance and apparently the mandibles to match. Das’ apparent confusion turns into a slow, accepting, and completely non-judgemental nod. “Alright then, three’s a party! Come on, fellows! Get ‘em while they’re hot!” With that, Das grips his greatsword in both hands and cleaves it through the air, leaving a temporary white streak that explodes into dozens of tiny fires as the wasps are set ablaze by the slash. He follows it up with another slash and another crackling line of seared wasps. "Take that, you annoying little buzzers!"

This does not come without consequence, as many wasps turn their ire to the big man cutting them down.

Staccato hears the same conglomeration of voices Daz heard as Krazdan creates a psychic link with him as well. (Message) To both Daz and Staccato, Krazdan says, "Step back and close your eyes if you wish to preserve those peepers of yours. Hehehe."

From within his moss-green cloak, Krazdan pulls out a small glass vial filled with a clear liquid, one of Krazdan's newer creations. He waits maybe two seconds after sending the message before he throws the vial on the ground under the bulk of this wasp swarm. It explodes with a stunning, brilliant light. (Exploding Pebble) Krazdan admired the results of his work. Its radiance competed with the sun, if for but a brief moment, before it disappeared as fast as it came, an entrancing allegory for life itself. However, as awestruck at the culmination of his efforts as he was, Krazdan forgot to follow the instructions he gave the others just moments before. For him the world was now obscured by a white sheet as his eyes were overwhelmed with searing pain. Despite this, his expression didn't really change and although he could no longer see at the present moment, he assumed that his concoction had been successful at wiping out the swarm judging by the lack of incessant buzzing. Still though he asked, "Did I get them?"

Unfortunately, though, more buzzing seemed to fade in from the distance, coming from the opposite direction the swarm they were contending with came from, directly behind them!

Puzzled at this mental voice, Staccato started searching for its source, only heeding the instructions at the very last second as he sees the green cloak move before covering his eyes.
The loud noise made him jump.

“Woah! What was that?!” He exclaimed in anxious awe,
“What just happened??”

He opened his eyes again and his gaze fell upon a whole lot of ground-bound wasps scattered about, some unmoving, others twitching. Letting out an exhilarated laugh, he turned towards Krazadan’s voice and hurried over to where the cloaked man stood.

“Did you do that? That was awesome; you got them alright; they’re all over the ground-“

He stopped there, the growing crescendo of buzzing catching his attention. He turned around just in time to see the next onslaught of wasps closing in.

“Okay never mind, lemme try something!”

Staccato does something a tad strange. He shakes out four hands and then sticks them in his mouth one by one. When he takes them out, his claws now had a slight sheen of salvia on them.

 Now he starts swinging out at these wasps, claws outstretched. Any wasp he swatted or lacerated soon slowed its flight and dropped, writhing.

(Extra Arms tattoo, Claws graft, poison sac tattoo, and unarmed novice skill)

Like before, he snaps at another wasp, this time succeeding. He sinks his fangs into it before spitting it back out onto the ground, making a face as he did-

“Eugh! They’re bitter!”


(Fangs graft and poison tattoo)

So many wasps come after Das with the pheromones of their dead brethren seeping across his heated blade. “Ow! Ouch! Agh!” he yelps, swatting helplessly at them. And then he hears the voice in his head again that warns him to protect his peepers. “Huh?” he manages to blurt before stupidly looking towards the green cloaked figure… And promptly getting flashed himself. “AGH!” he cries, stumbling backward and covering his one good eye.

This is going incredibly well!

Each step he takes, he can hear the crunching of insectoid bodies beneath his feet, and the dull buzzing of another swarm approaching makes his mind race. Staccato seems to be having a great time in comparison to his two now-blinded companions. Without the ability to see to swing at the next wave of wasps, Das clenches his fists, frustrated at his own stupidity. If only he could burn them himself. If only he could manifest what he needs to in order to keep himself safe! His breathing picks up, a feeling burning within his chest. Do better, Das. Do better!

Suddenly, warmth spreads from Das’s center to the rest of his limbs, like having a strong drink that makes one lose proper control of their extremities, except… He hasn’t had a drink today. No, this must be his ancestral inner will pushing him to do better! Feeling the heat reach the surface, Das lets out a mighty warcry, and flames erupt from his body, a wave of heat radiating out from him.^[1] The air around him warps and twists like the heat of the desert, and being in his immediate area feels like standing near a volcanic vent.

Wasps around him start to drop to the ground, but because of his blindness, Das doesn’t realize it. Instead, he takes the invigorating heat as a sign to keep swinging. “Let’s take the rest of them down!!”

---

1. Heat Cloak

Krazdan’s vision was slowly, very slowly, returning to him. Now, instead of just seeing a white sheet, he could now make out the dark blobs that formed the silhouettes of the two others fighting the wasps. Krazdan assumed the figure swinging the big thing around was the red man with the horns. Judging by the way he was flailing his sword wildly, Krazdan could guess that this fellow was also dazzled by his creation, or maybe that’s just how this guy uses his weapon.

As the heat began to radiate from Daz, Krazdan backed away to avoid cooking himself alive. How fascinating, did he just cast a spell or was this an ability he acquired through his heritage? The other fellow was interesting as well, he had never seen anyone quite like him before. Krazdan was definitely going to have too… pick their brains about it after they were done dealing with this debacle. Judging by the buzzing, quieting again, whatever they were doing it was working.

“I don’t know what you two are doing, but good job!”

However, to his dismay, the orchestra of buzzing resounded again, from all directions this time! Just how many of these wasps were there? They were going to need something big to wipe these buggers out. Krazdan had noticed how the wasps seemed to be targeting Daz the most out of all of them. The sword being decorated in their guts probably put their “attack pheromones” on overdrive, perhaps that was something that could be used against them.

“I know it sounds bad right now, and probably looks even worse, but I have a plan! My striking multi-limbed friend, we’ll need you to be our eyes! Find an empty building, it could be a shed or an abandoned house, anything that is enclosed should do, and guide us to this structure. My one-eye sword-wielding fellow, we’ll need you to throw your sword into this structure. Once the sword is thrown, the two of you need to run as far away as you possibly can, and whatever you do, don’t look back!!!”

Staccato heard the numerous angered cries of Daz, and stopped swiping before coming to his side to assist. As he entered the fray of bugs, he got a taste of just what the fellblood currently experienced.


“Ow! That’s what poison feels like??” He exclaimed as he received a couple of stings on the soft parts of his body,
“Ow, geez, quit-!”

Before long, he too started flailing and swatting at the wasps. It took some down, yes, but it also irked the other ones.
On the bright side, Daz had a bit of a break, though the majority still targeted him and his pheromone clad sword.

Hearing Krazdan, he turned towards him while still swatting.

“Uhhh sure sure, lemme see-“



Though only two of his eight eyes had clear, full color vision, the other six had some use. An eye on the side of his head picked out the could still pick out the shape of a possible structure. When he turned his head, the shape revealed itself to be a small building similar to a shed. He couldn’t tell if it was occupied or not from this quick glance, but it would do.


 (Third eye graft)


He hurried to Krazdan’s side, taking him by the arm before pulling him along. His claws poked at the other’s skin. Once near the aforementioned structure, he squatted to the other’s level and pointed it out.

“How about that?? I’ll go get the sword man-“

Staccato dashed over to him, only to stop dead in his tracks as he met a wall of scorching air. He flinched at the sudden heat and backed up.
Now how was he supposed to deal with that? It was like that stupid desert all over again.

With a glance to Krazdan and a resigned groan, he started a bit of pep talk to himself. After all, neither Daz nor Krazdan could see, and they needed those wasps gone.
Staccato had survived intense heat before; what was one more round of it?

Shaking off the nerves, he charged back in and hooked his fingers around whatever article of clothing on Daz he could grab before tugging him towards the same building.

“Ow hot hot hot!”

He couldn’t move Daz very, as the fell-blood was heavier than Krazdan and the heat nearly burned him. He had to let go. Once he did so, the arachnoid hollered-

“Come on, this way! Toss your sword over there!”

Funny that he trusted Krazdan’s judgement already, especially after witnessing him and Daz being flashbanged…

“I don’t know what I’m doing either if I’m being honest!” Das shouts to Krazden with a nervous laugh. If it’s working, then he isn’t going to stop! Still, Das tries to find a moment to pause and rub his eye and blink away the pain of blindness. If only the eyepatch were decorative like those sailors sometimes do. In the meantime, at least someone has some idea of a plan. But to throw his sword?? Why the hells would he do that?

Das’ wild swinging nearly smacks Staccato when the arachnid man comes over, but luckily, it’s just wild enough to completely miss. He feels tugging on his cloak that nearly makes him stumble. “Huh? Hot?” Das asks, confused, making some attempt to look around. “Well, don’t touch the sword! Oh, but if I struck you, I apologize!” Yeah, this guy has no idea that he’s putting out the fiery heat of the sun.

The armored Fellblood does his best to follow the sound of Staccato’s voice, stumbling forward while swatting at the wasps that manage to survive his heat cloak. “Toss it? I’d rather not, but if you’re sure about this, then…” Gripping the haft with both hands, Das raises his greatsword over his shoulder and heaves it through the air as best he can. It flips wildly, spinning in circles before smacking the wooden shed with a loud thud, the blade implanted in a beam. The heat instantly begins to burn the wood, and with his hands free, Das rubs his eye to try to clear it.

"Okay, do it! Whatever... it is."

By the time Staccato brings Krazdan to the small building, Krazdan's vision has mostly cleared. Things are still hazy, but he could now identify stuff around him. As the deep thunk of Das's sword reverberates throughout the wooden shed, the majority of the wasps pour into the structure like the ocean pouring in through a crack of a sinking ship. Everything was ready. Krazdan pulls out an old, rusted metal box he had found yesterday half buried in the swamps. He was using it to hold his newest batch of parasite poison, but he emptied the box out, tossing the vial of violet poison casually over his shoulder. As the vial shattered behind him, the purple liquid sizzled as it ate away at the dirt it saturated. For just a moment, Krazdan looked down at empty box in thought, then, within their minds, Staccato and Das hear Krazdan say, "Eh, fuck it," as Krazdan places his remaining four vials of the clear liquid that had blinded two thirds of the party earlier into the box (Using 4 Exploding Pebbles). Krazdan lifts his hand out and using his budding psychic ability, magically rips Das's sword from the wooden beam's grasp and continues to pull towards himself until his outstretched hand wraps around the hilt of the sword (Telekinesis), and before the wasps have a chance to chase after the sword again, he uses his other hand that's holding the box to chuck it as hard as he can. The box tumbles through the air and sails through the threshold of the shed, and before it even hits the ground, the vials probably shattering within the box due to their rough descent, BOOM!!! Krazdan managed to throw an arm up over his face to shield his eyes this time, but the force of this blast threw him back and its fire engulfed him for a brief moment. He landed with a thud, grunting as the air was squeezed from his lungs. He quickly recovered however, standing back up to marvel at the results of his work. There was nothing left of the building, but a smoldering heap of rubble. The incessant buzzing of insects had finally seized. It was a glorious sight; too bad he couldn't witness this explosion bloom. He shook himself from his reverie and walked towards Das, holding his weapon towards him.



"Here's your sword my horned friend."



Then Krazdan looked down at himself, noticing something.



"I appear to be on fire."



Indeed, Krazdan was on fire. The flames licked the bottom of his cloak and were slowly crawling up his body.

Staccato laughed along with Das before ducking back just in time for the second explosion. Since he was a bit closer to this one than the first, he felt it shake him to the core, even stumbling back some.

He soon lifted his head again, gawking at the ashy remains of what was once a building.

“Woahh…”

And as if that wasn’t cool, he then stared in awe as he watched Krazdan grab Das’s sword and bring it back without even touching it!

“Woahhhhh!”

A big grin spread across his face as he excitedly ran up to Krazdan’s side.

“How’d you do that from all the way over here??” He asked, “Do you have, like, invisible hands or something? Or-“

He stopped there as Krazdan nonchalantly commented on the fire, following his gaze down until he too saw it. His eyes went huge and he exclaimed:

“Oh crap, hold on-!”

Immediately Staccato began stomping on the flames. When two feet didn’t seem to be enough, the arachnoid grunted and clenched his body, to which the two short appendages just above his legs popped out to extend, all with a nasty crack and squelch.
Now he had four feet to stamp out the flames with.

While he did this, he glanced wildly about and then turned to Das.

“Are they all gone?” He questioned, “Man, where’d they even come from; wasp nests aren’t that big, are they??

Das isn’t exactly sure what he expects out of throwing his sword into a fire blindly. An explosion is not what he expects. Heat blasts him in the face, and the force of the boom threatens to knock him off his feet. He barely cleared his vision only to be nearly blinded one more, barely shielding his eye with the hand that happened to be in the vicinity of his face. It doesn’t take long for the blinding light to settle, but the flames themselves are still incredibly bright, painting the area in a fiery red glow.

The Fellblood blinks, taking in the scene, when Krazdan offers him his sword. “Uh… Thanks,” he starts, hesitantly taking the very hot weapon. The leather of the haft has seen better days than this. Luckily, his gauntlets protect his skin. He’s so taken by the bonfire shed that he almost doesn’t notice Krazdan on fire, and he still hasn’t noticed the fiery heat cloak he himself is putting out.

Then Krazdan mentions it and Staccato jumps into action. Das steps back to give them space, tucking his sword into its scabbard. Wait, these two really are odd. Strange limbs, odd tendencies to speak into one’s mind, and… Well, none of that really matters, does it? A bit dumbfounded, Das looks around. The swarm has largely scattered, no longer a mass of killer wasps on a hunt but instead a weary army dragging themselves off of the battlefield.

“I think we got them,” he says. With the excitement of the battle fading, so too does the heat outpouring from his body. Glancing past the two to look at the flames again, he feels like his ancestors would be proud of something burning so gloriously.

“Ah, thank you both for your help,” he says only once Krazdan is no longer aflame and the group can relax. “Good to meet you. I’m Das. Or Kardas. Kar’Das’Dun is my full name. Whatever you prefer.”

Krazdan stared at Staccato as he smothered the fire creeping its way up Krazdan's cloak, his large eye protruding from its socket and pulsating grotesquely with the undulations of a beating heart, enamored with Staccato's unusual anatomy. So engrossed in his fascination of Staccato, it takes Krazdan a few moments to register that Das has introduced himself. Krazdan takes a couple steps back from Staccato, once the fire has pittered out, and with a flourish, bows deeply to both Staccato and Das, a part of his burnt swamp-soaked cloak flowing back, revealing Krazdan's four feet; a pair of hairy human feet and a pair of scaley webbed feet. They're exposed for only a second as the cloak falls back into place to obscure his form once again.

"Greetings friends, I am Krazdan, though some call me Krazdan the Mad, or the Bogwater Madman, or the Cragwart Creeper, or... you can just call me Krazdan. It is my utmost pleasure to make your acquaintances Kardas and uhh..." Krazdan looks towards Staccato. "What might your name be friend? I could just peer into your mind and skim through your memories like a picture book, but that seems rude. Hehehe, I jest, I haven't learned that spell yet."

Once the embers on Krazdan were snuffed, Staccato too could relax, letting out a tiny chuckle. 

“Phew, that was crazy-“

He shook himself off, the tension leaving his bristled body hair and allowing it to flatten. His gaze met Krazdan’s, staring into the dark hood and at that pulsating eye. His hand twitched as he resisted the intrusive urge to touch it. His attention shifted to the four legs, tilting his head curiously.


Like Krazdan, he too failed to immediately notice Das’s introduction, still staring at the mad one’s lower half until the fell blood’s words registered.

“Huh?”

He turned to Das then, flashing him a big (perhaps too big), bright grin. Said grin showed off those fearsome fangs and the pointy teeth between them. 


“OH, yeah, Das? Was that it? I like that!”

Then to Krazdan, he merely laughed at the faux threat.

“Honestly, I’d be impressed if you found anything in my mind because I sure don’t know my own memories,” he rubbed his neck, laughter dwindling to a sheepish chuckle,
“I’m uh, working on that.”

His mood couldn’t be dampened for long, his smile returning as he glanced between the two and stuck out two of his hands for a handshake.

“I think I like just Krazdan; it’s easy to remember,” he replied, “You guys can call me Staccato!”

Regardless of their reactions to his outstretched hands, he took theirs and shook them both. Once that was out of the way, he immediately brought his attention to Das.

“Hey Das? Why were you so hot earlier?” He asked, “When I tried to pull you to the shed, the air got really hot, kinda like a desert I went to once.”

…Thank goodness he clarified.
The villagers, finally experiencing a moment of peace, started emerging from their homes and hiding places. The ones who weren’t overwhelmed with relief gazed upon their saviors with appreciation and apprehension

This reminded Staccato on exactly why he came out here. People liked heroes after all, didn’t they? If he was like that, he wouldn’t be so scary!