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[Goonalan]

Dungeon Crawl Classic #3
The Mysterious Tower
Level 3-5

Turn 94: Stop Wight Now.

“For Pelor.” Cas is lightning fast, he leaps into the fray, slashes wildly opening up a six inch gash on the Wight’s side, shadow essence spews from the wound, wreathing the creature. Then just as swiftly he leaps out of the way again. The Wight swipes but is much too slow.

“MASTA MASTA.”

Bec steps in, the Wight claws at the Barbarian’s armour but cannot get through his defences, however.

SLICE

Bec cuts down almost slicing the Wight in two, top to bottom, bits of the creature’s skin slough off or peel away, much more of its shadow essence escapes.

Ala leans in, Holy Symbol of Correllon in hand, she mutters prayers, and presents the Symbol again.

The Wight doesn’t blink an eye, ignores her, more concerned with the lumbering Barbarian that’s intent on cutting it in half.

All to no avail.

Bec’s second stroke is a close replica of the first, this time the cut is clean, the Wight is split asunder, the two halves flop to the floor, squirm for a moment, and then are gone, just a cloud of jet black vapour that quickly disperses.

“You ok?” Jim drags Newts face away from the wall.
“Ye-ye-ye-ye-yeP.” Newt shivers.

Ala lights up another sunrod and strides into the recess, there’s lots of stuff in there- in fact a whole set of equipment for a Knight, a Warrior, all of it in a jumble at the base of a much scratched and scared coffin- open.

One Detect Magic spell later and…

“You’re not going to believe this…”

Ala strides from the recess, a wooden sword, like in the scroll they found earlier in her hands, “it’s magic.” She states, to looks of astonishment.
“The Sword of the Meek… Cas.” Anya offers.
Cas is over to the blade in an instant, blade may be stretching the truth somewhat, the sword is constructed from two pieces of wood, hardly shaped at all, although both are splintered in places, one piece of wood for the blade, the other for the cross guard, all that’s keeping them together is what looks, and feels, like a knotted dirty rag.

“It feels…” Cas takes the blade, makes a few exploratory swishes. “It feels, great.”
“Here.” The Paladin, without looking, he can’t take his eyes off the blade, passes his magical longsword to Bec.
“Don’t want it- have dagger.” Bec refuses the blade.
“This is better.” Cas nudges the Barbarian with the pommel of his now former longsword, “Take it.” He’s still admiring the blade.
SLAP.
Bec knocks the longsword out of the Paladin’s grip, it skitters onto the stone floor.
“Don’t Want IT. DAG-GUH.” Bec strides off.

Which gets everyones attention.

“There’s something about that dagger.” Ala states.
“Right.” Anya concurs, the two share a look.

“Let’s get back- we’ve done enough for today. We need to get Newt rested- hot soup, that’s what you need my friend.” Jim states, and leads them back the way they came, scooping up Newt on the way.

The Gnome is shivering, his teeth chattering in the Ranger’s arms. They hurry.

Ala grabs what looks to be a solid gold Breastplate from the recently uncovered stash, figuring she’ll give it to Newt to sell, when he comes to his senses. That’ll cheer him up.

Ten minutes later and they’re back with Scat in the first chamber they explored, the soup is on, Newt’s wrapped in three blankets, sleeping- actually shivering and passing in and out of consciousness would be a better description of his situation.

Scat is whistling a lullaby to the squirming Gnome.

“Masta. Masta.” Scat whistles and whispers at the same time, it’s a neat trick.

“The Wight stole part of his essence, he must weather the storm tonight- he may be better in the morning, there’s nothing I… we, can do, he needs food and sleep… He’s strong Cas, he’ll be ok, you’ll see- in the morning.” Ala smiles at Cas, the Paladin looks worried, his new sword forgotten for the moment- Newt looks really ill, at death’s door. Ala stands on tip-toes, reaches up and kisses Cas on the lips.
“Get some rest yourself. He’ll be back to normal, to Newt, in the morning.” Ala wanders off to tend to the Gnome.

Anya watches the Priestess depart. “Goody-two-shoes”, she whispers.

They eat.

They rest.

They sleep.

And sometime in the night Newt awakes, all alone in the dark.

He blinks, there’s a fire going, he looks left, on the other side of the fire sits Scat, the Otyugh continues to fart and parp oblivious, its back to the Gnome.

Newt grins.

A tentacle snakes out behind Scat, grabs a hunk of wood, from one of the smashed coffins, puts it on the fire.

The stray snakes tentacle snakes back, then suddenly stops, turns to point towards Newt, motions left, then right, stops again, and then waves at the Rogue.

Newt sleeps.

Next Turn: Stag Party.