A New Threat Emerges
Last updated
Last updated
The group of Octopies had been camping by the swamp for a few nights. The papers and documents they’d uncovered were a strange jumble of texts. A few of them were written in plain Pielish, the universal language of Pieland, making it easier to read through. But the large majority of the pieces appeared to be written in different languages, or in a cryptic code. The Octopies had spent hours trying to understand and decipher what was written—without any luck.
On the third day, the evening was settling in. The already obscure swamp became even darker as the sun set. As the Octopies prepared to sleep, a distant rustling crept nearer to the swamp. Suddenly, an otherworldly roar pierced the tranquility, echoing through the trees like a thunderous drumbeat. Startled and disoriented, the Octopies jumped up to attention, their hearts pounding and their fillings shaking.
The group gathered around, peering into the darkness, trying to discern the source of the chilling sound. As they looked around, they saw the trees moving across the other side of the water. Suddenly, a towering troll-like figure emerged from the shadows. The light from the Octopies’ campfire reflected off the Trolls sharp horns, while its massive, gnarled hands clutched at the air hungrily.
The beast had come into the Swamp ready to fight. The Octopies didn’t realize they’d been intruders in the creature’s domain, but it would surely see the group soon. The troll-like beast, known as a Truffalo, slunk behind the trees near the abandoned dwelling, letting out a loud roar that echoed around the swamp.
Fear swept through the camp as they realized the grave danger. “Psst. Psssst. That’s a Truffalo. I thought they were extinct...” whispered one of the Octopies. “The ones that live in the Haunted Forest are said to have precious and rare mushrooms growing off their backs. I read about it in one of the journals we found. I bet the leaders of The Baked would certainly reward anyone who could bring a sample of those mushrooms to them…” Another Octopie interrupted, “—are you mad?! Fighting this beast is Pie-icide. We’ve traveled for days, we haven’t slept in a real bed in weeks, and we need to recuperate back at home before we can fight. We should retreat into camp and let it pass by. You’d risk your life for some trinkets and gold, you’re a fool!”
The group was torn. Some stepped forward ready to fight. Others were gripped by panic. Adrenaline surging through their veins, those who wanted to fight armed themselves with whatever they could find—spears, rocks, and survival tools.
The Fellowship knew that the decision to fight should be made by each Octopie individually. It was clear some Octopies would be willing to risk fighting the troll, even if it meant being sent to the Oven in the sky. Others, however, were happy to forego the rewards in order to keep their filling in one pie shell. The group had some time to make their decision before the Truffalo was upon them. What choices will they make…
