Don't laugh..... it's here.

pogre said:

A wheep? Is that a contraction of "WHat the bEEP?"

What is that thing from? - yes, I only own the core books.

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It's from MM III, it was meant as a PC killer (not a TPK, but close). They should've left well enough alone.

They got greedy, and in the end 5 walked in but only 2 made it out.

Hairy Minotaur said:

5 walked in but only 2 made it out.

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It's good to shake things up once in a while.

Pity, though. I liked some of those characters. Let's hope Gronar can talk the elves into a little True Res for Korg.

Jon Potter said:

It's good to shake things up once in a while.

Pity, though. I liked some of those characters. Let's hope Gronar can talk the elves into a little True Res for Korg.

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Oh Nameroc and Paquito aren't dead..... yet.

What happens next is the best gaming session we've had thus far.

Duplicity

Gronar and Benat are met by Finrod as they return to Mirwood with the dead giant Korg.

"What happened?" Finrod asks

"Elfy had plan, too bad it was bad plan." Gronar answers not bothering to slow he pace any.

"Where's Nameroc and Paquito?" Finrod asks turning to keep up with Gronar

"We lost track of them in the maze, I assumed they got out and headed back here." Benat replies

"I haven't see either of them. What happened to Korg? He looks like a mummy." Finrod asks

"Elfy's plan killed Korg." Gronar explains

"I already apologized for that, how was I to know there would be some ultra-powerful undead creature in there?" Benat asks

"Where are you going?" Finrod asks following behind the elf and giant

"Gronar go make Korg better, give elf temple big magic sword." Gronar tells the elf



Finrod tags along as the two remaining party members reach the elven temple. Benat offers up the "Angelkiller" as payment to his church in order to resurrect Korg. The church accepts and gives Korg a True Resurrection. Gronar elects to stay with Korg and fill in the missing time from his death to resurrection. Finrod listens as Gronar describes the cube of jelly, then the undead thing in a stone box. Then losing Nameroc and Paquito, and finally breaking out of the maze and returning here.

Benat stays to assist the temple in whatever needs they may require as additional payment for Korg's return to the living. Finrod goes to see the elder about his take on the situation.

"Your excellency, I feel that we are woefully under equipped to deal with this minotaur threat." Finrod explains

"You base this on what knowledge?" Celeior replies

"Half of the group did not return and one of the giants is dead." Finrod answers

"Yes, I am aware of that. You can't miss the giants when they come into town. Still, that does not mean taking away resources from the front lines and giving it to you would have resulted in a different outcome." Celeior replies

"I think it's obvious that this minotaur threat is greater than anyone predicted." Finrod explains

"How many minotaurs did it take to take down the giant?" Celeior asks

"Well, erm. None he was laid low by some kind of undead thing." Finrod answers

"Some kind of undead thing? I thought you were talking about minotaurs?" Celeior answers

"It was in the maze. They shift the maze around making it almost impossible to come up with a good tactic." Finrod answers

"Are you faulting yourself for not having the foresight to think the minotaurs would let you walk in and kill them all in their sleep?" Celeior says running out of patience

"No. But, this mission can not be completed without some kind of assistance from the town." Finrod explains

"So, you presume to tell me that you can not possibly defeat this foe without artifacts, a mobile armory, and at least ten thousand gold? Are you insane, or so terrified at your own mortality that you feel the need to demand I grant you keys to the treasury so that you can fund the eradication of a small group of minotaurs?" Celeior answers

"I would think the elder would want assurances that they have been exterminated." Finrod answers

"Is that not why you are going there to begin with?" Celeior replies

"Well, yes." Finrod answers

"How many minotaurs remain?" Celeior questions the elf

"I do not know." Finrod answers

"Then how can you possibly begin to accurately suggest a course of action for this town? Return to me when you have this information. I will have to speak with Valriand about his choices in agents. You are free to go." Celeior waves off Finrod, who returns to the elven temple to wait with the giants.

The night goes by quietly, until about 4 am. Calls of "infiltrator" and "intruder" pierce through the silence. Benat jumps to her feet and runs outside the temple, to the entry garden, bow in hand with an arrow notched. Finrod is a little slower, but gets there as the rest of the elves in the temple begin to fill the garden space. The giants bring up the rear, wading through the sea of elven heads and hair, to make their way into the garden. Peering out with her exceptional vision, Benat spies a lone figure quickly approaching. She takes careful aim as the alert is called off, Benat lowers her bow and tries to get a better look at the figure. Running at them full speed, and panting as if he'd just escaped death, was Nameroc.

"We.... have... to .... help..... Paquito." Nameroc gets out between gasps for air

"Calm down, and catch your breath." Benat instructs the young elf

"Paquito is trapped under a cave-in, he won't last long if we don't hurry." Nameroc explains.

"What happen to Pokey?" Gronar asks

"Well we woke up on the alter of some demonic figure, we were laying in it's hands. The biggest minotaur I've ever seen walked in and told us we were going to be sacrificed. Next thing I know Paquito charges the beast and they fall back. The big guy takes out a horn of some kind and blows on it. Next, the ceiling is collapsing and I'm sprinting for my life back here, throwing every summoning spell I had to try and slow down any pursuers." Nameroc relates

"Why don't you get some rest, and we'll head out in the morning." Benat says

"I think we need to get him now, he won't live if we just leave him there." Nameroc says

"But I th..." Benat is cut off by Gronar

"Gronar think it take you five hours to get here, Pokey likely dead already. Gronar wait until not so hung over to go get Pokey's body and bring back to elfys." Gronar tells Nameroc

"Fine. But, I'm not going to rest. I'll be waiting for you at the north trail out of the village." Nameroc says as he walks away from the group.

"Persistent guy, I didn't think he and Paquito were all that close." Finrod offers

"I didn't detect any attempt to cover up or mislead us in any way. Maybe he was touched by Paquito's apparent lack of selflessness?" Benat replies

Hairy Minotaur said:

"Maybe he was touched by Paquito's apparent lack of selflessness?" Benat replies

Click to expand...

Or maybe he's a DOPPLEGANGER!

Paquito's torment

I awoke beaten and bloodied but breathing, taking account of my senses I realize that I am blindfolded, gagged, and my wrists and ankles have been restrained. All is quiet except for the labored breathing of someone laying on the floor behind me. I smell the iron of my own blood and not much else. I feel as though I'm laying on stone as opposed to some other material like dirt. My head aches, but that is to be expected, my right shoulder also aches, though I have no idea from what injury it occurred from.

Straining against my bonds, I find them to give no quarter. I run my fingers over the material and it feels like thick leather. A feeling of despair rains down upon me like an unforgiving hammer striking an anvil. My blood senses an evil old and powerful, like a famished vampire it longs to drink of the power. The sensation nauseates me and I fight the urge to retch, as doing so would surely suffocate me.

A stray thought enters my head, and I realize that I have no concept of the passage of time. I could've been unconscious for days and not have known it. I wonder what has become of my traveling companions. I wonder if they're even alive to come looking for me, not that I would even be able to help them in that regards. I wonder what fate holds for me, am I to be viciously beaten in formal combat? Am I to be dismantled for spell components? Will I be brainwashed into turning against my friends and bringing about a reign of fire upon them all!? Ahem, got a little carried away there.


Time passes slowly as I count away the seconds in my head, I shift a little on my left side and I head metal scraping against stone. Methodically repeating the same movement I ascertain that my collar is still around my neck. Rolling onto my stomach, and back again, I believe that the dragon amulet has been removed from my neck however. My fingers are numb from the circulation depriving restraints around my wrists. Surely it will only be a matter of time before they fall off dead, then what good would I be as a sorcerer?

The sound of a heavy lock being moved echoes through the room, the lock grates across stone, then the lock is raised and a door is opened. I hear the wooden frame of the door as it traces a beaten path across the floor, only to become lodged as the floor must be raised a little at the end of the door's journey. The sounds of heavy hoofs, followed by several lighter ones signaling the arrival of my captors, cascade through my ears. I wince in anticipation of what is to come next.

*snort* "Awake are you? I don't know what clan you are from, but they must be sickly indeed." a low reverberating voices echoes through the chamber

Cold claw-like fingers rake into my forehead around the blindfold, they tear away skin and I feel the warm trickle of blood as it runs down my face. I instinctively try to turn away from the pain, and my blindfold gets ripped from my head. Before my stands the largest minotaur I've ever seen, his face covered in a red leather cowl that conceals all but his eyes. Hesitating with my eyes a moment longer I realize that it's not the leather that's red, but the caked on dried blood that gives the cowl a crimson appearance.


"Open your eyes cur!" The minotaur commands. I sense the evil in his voice, my blood longs to reach out and connect with the force that drives this being.

I clamp my eyes shut and force my soul to rail against these feelings, I try to block out his face, but even in the darkness behind my eyes I see his visage. The large fist of the minotaur slams into the back of my head, a shower of scintillating lights falls behind my eyes, yet I staunchly refuse to obey his commands.

"Prepare him." the bullord says as he exits the room to his left, followed by four bulls, two minotaurs, and two bugbears. Lastly the albino mage walks up and makes an arcane symbol with her hands, the symbol wavers in the air like a mirage. She then approaches me, taking paint from out of a pouch on her belt, she begins to draw arcane and infernal symbols upon my immobile body.

"Wha." I utter

"Shh, silence. If Taurranous hears you, he will kill you before I can help. You should have followed my directions, you were lucky to escape the wheep." the maze mage's whispers in your ear. "Taurranous means to serve both of you to his debased god." The mage continues while she applies the same symbols to the body next to me.

I get a good look at the body, it's definitely an elf. Although I can not tell for certain whether it is Nameroc or even male for that matter. Both of it's wrists have been horribly crushed, as have it's ankles. Huge welts of blue and black cover most of it's back, soft whimpers escape what must be a swollen and bleeding mouth. Even with no knowledge in the healing arts, I can tell the decrepit being labors to breath. The viciousness of the attack shivers my spine, yet warms my blood.

"The ogre's men were here earlier, they copied your friend here, and plan on infiltrating your own army to better deal with the giants. Your friends won't make it back here alive to rescue you, it's up to you to rescue yourself." The mage finishes covering the body next to me in runes.

"Taurranous has a tunnel that opens under the drinking hall of the elves, the ogre will create a diversion to empty most of the village. Taurranous will then pour into the village unseen and unhindered, there will be many deaths." She continues

"I have hidden your spell components behind you, it is my job to draw the blood from you. I will cut your bonds and you will have mere seconds to chose your fate. You will see what I mean when your bonds drop."

"The only way all of us live, is for you to kill Taurranous. Any other solution will result in the death of many. This ends soon, one way or the other." The mage then leaves the room via the same entrance the bullord arrived in.

I wonder why she bothered to leave me unblinfolded, I couldn't possibly be anywhere close enough power wise to defeat Taurranous, maybe this is their idea of a sick twisted game. Searching my head I find that all of my spells have returned, I must have been unconscious for at least half a day, probably more.

I strain my neck to get a look at what I'm lying on, it appears to be a huge stone hand. I look over at the elf and see it too rest upon a stone hand. Dark stains which I assume to be blood cover the floor beneath the hand the elf rests on. Following the muscled stone arm up to it's shoulder, I see a huge wing thrown in an open pose as if the stone figure it's attached to could take flight at any moment. My eyes then take in the face of the stone being, evil and corruption fill my senses and the face of a human with small horns upon his head looks down at me with a fang filled mouth. The cockiness in my blood retracts and reels at the weight of the stare the figure gives me.

My mind floods with a vision of the devilish minotaur from my tormented dreams. A flesh and blood representative of the stone figure appears behind the minotaur, it strikes down the minotaur and laughs as Taurranous and his minions dance around the stone figure I lay upon. The eyes of the stone figure blink and turn a reddish-orange, like lava the colors twist and swirl, if I could move I would run and never stop. Fear fills ever corner of my heart, I pray for cowardice, there is no difference between dying a hero or dying a coward if no one is left to say which you are.

A thumping sound drains away my hearing, like the beating of a heart, it drives my blood through my veins in a wicked game of chicken. The thumping increases it's beat, my heart races to keep pace. My blood strains against the bonds around my wrists and ankles, I feel the pain of a thousand pin pricks as capillaries burst from the pressure. My extremities go numb, I can no longer see as the blood pressure forces my liquid life to spill upon the surface of my eyes.

My eardrums burst from within, yet I still hear the thumping. I beats for me like a life clock, pounding away the rest of my life. I can stand the pain no longer, I force my jaws open, I part my lips, I shout for this assault to cease. No sound issues forth from my mouth, for my tongue has turned against me. Like a vile snake it seeks out the back of my throat and chokes off the very air that keeps me from falling from my perilous edge of sanity. I fight to free me beleaguered hands, I need to breathe, I need to claw my tongue out of my mouth, I must be free.

I cannot tell if my hands ever reached my mouth, even though my eyes were shut, I see a deeper darkness well up around me. It drowns me within it's boundaries, yet the thumping goes on. It vibrates the very darkness around me, boiling it to the point of evaporation, what skin I can still feel, is peeled off as the darkness disintegrates into nothingness. Then a familiar voice wedges itself into my mind.

"He is ready. I shall rule for eternity!" Taurranous shouts

Poor Paquito.

Absolution or acceptance?

The pain has left my body, but the oppressiveness of Taurranous's arrogance weighs me down like a waiting grave. The one thing that has saved me from many ill fated outcomes, is the one thing that escapes my mind currently, my glibness can only be successful if I speak it. I wish things had turned out differently, I wish I could do something useful.

If my spite were a weapon, Taurranous would die a thousands deaths while he chants over me. I wonder what his weapon of choice will be, and how much more pain I could endure. His power lies in his ability to effectively intimidate his fellow clans members, I sense his intent to intimidate me and I spit out at his failure. If only my tongue would move, it might have been impressive.

With hope fading I search within me for something tangible to pour what is left of me into. Alas all my lies are plain to see now, two-dimensional cut outs of what I thought they should be. The memories of the last people I thought of as friends, get washed away with the tidal darkness sweeping over me. My deeds laugh at me as though I was something less of creature and more of a joke. I languish is a sea of contradiction, lost within it's waves false truths and double meanings.

But in that cacophony of torment, a bloodied body coalesces from the memories. It's minotaur shape is plain to see, great horns well over half again it's body's length grow from the head of black coarse hair. The great man pushes off from the bottomless pit of my despair, and I see the visage of Baphomet. His voice thunders not in my head, but through every organ of my body.

"Your complacentness appalls me, I do not lie here in wait just for you to fall to me. You are of my blood, I expect you to charge to me or perish trying." Blood rains constantly from numerous wounds on the Fiendish minotaur's body.

The dark crimson liquid turns the bleak landscape of my anguish into a slow beating artery of hate. The oppressiveness increases as it tries in vain to make my body into a two dimensional mockery of my parentage. I understand now why I am tortured thusly. I understand why I shall not let this end upon the cold stone hand of Asmodeus.

Baphomet throws his head back as the force of deception pummels his form in front of me. "Get up, get up and charge unto me. You are of the maze, and you are never lost."

My consciousness is shoved off the cliff of hopelessness and slams into the face of reality. The din of battle replaces the ringing in my ears, I smell the dusty stench of fiendish stone, my hands are free to move as the leather bonds have been severed. My eyes adjust to the bright light of distant torches, I see Taurranous before I discern his screams.

The bull lord fights to remain standing in a field of thick black tentacles which undulate of their own volition, seeking out the flesh of Taurranous to pull him flush with the floor.

"Kill the cow!" Taurranous shouts to his Minotaurs.

Two Minotaurs turn and race towards Corridorian, only to be tripped up by the jabbing thrusts of the minotrice's long spears. The remaining minotaur moves up and grasps Taurranous' hand and braces himself to attempt to free his lord. Corridorian spies this opportunity and unleashes a blinding bolt of lightning that arcs through the bull lord and into his supposed savior. Taurranous escapes with nary a signed hair, while the minotaur falls to the floor cooked medium-well. Black tentacles erupt from beneath the minotaur and cover it in a mass of lightlessness, the sounds of flesh sluicing off of the dead body renew Taurranous' efforts to free himself from the maze mage's spell.

I lock onto Taurranous' eyes, I wait until his stare is unblinking in it's menacing glare. I wait until he perceives my strength of will as I stand before him. I relish in the knowledge he is beaten, yet his laughter still mocks me.

"The little calf wants to play with the bulls now eh? Your spirit will taste best crushed like that of an elf's." Taurranous speaks as her rips his way through the magical bonds that appeared to hold him so fast mere moments ago. His massive hoof stomps out the essence of another tentacle as the bull lord rises up to peer down at me.

I don't hesitate, I focus only on where his heart should be. One step and my hands go out from my sides, two steps and I reach the edge of the stone hand. My hoof pushes off from stony index finger and I drive my immature horns into the belly of the beast. Taurranous laughs as he prepares to catch my smaller body, his laughter turns to a bellowing pain as one of my horns gouges across his rib cage. His massive hand, instead of snapping my spine, flares out and swats me away towards the floor. I slam into the cold stone and feel the inky black tentacles rising up from the ground to encase myself as well.

"Not bad for cur runt." Taurranous says pivoting to face my prone body

Before I respond, I gaze intently on the wound I caused, and see that my motive has gone unnoticed by the bull lord. "My aim was not to cut you. It was to poison you. No?"

Taurranous' eyes shot down at the bleeding wound on his chest, green foam had already frothed out of the gash, spilling it's wasting power through the veins of the minotaur.

"Arrr!" The massive bull lord bellows and the walls tremble with a fear they've known for far too long. Taurranous kicks away another tentacle and bends down to heft me off the floor.

Corridorian ends her Evard's black tentacles spell and sends a flare through Taurranous' field of vision. The bull lord's attention is turned away from me and focuses on the small firelight that flits through the air in front of him. I grab his muscled arm with both of my hands, and twist my body in his grip, allowing my mouth to run across the back of his hairy claw that holds me upright. Finding a soft spot I bite down and break his skin, the magic of my collar sends another round of poisonous fluid into Taurranous' bloodstream.

Taurranous reflexively drops me and land hooves first onto the floor, as the bull lord writhes in agony, I watch as he seems to shrink. What was once a six foot height difference has now become half that. The bull lord staggers and strains to keep himself standing, even his bellowing of pain sounds more like a panicked plea for help, than a commanding cry of intimidation. Taurranous grasps his bitten hand like a tourniquet, trying in vain to stave off the wasting effect that roils through his body.

I grab the throat of the once great bull lord, and pull his face down to mine. Taurranous coughs and wheezes as the poison strains his lungs. "This is my tribe now. No?" My words cause Taurranous to open his eyes in anger. I mouth the words of a spell slowly, enunciating every syllable as if to defy the depths of hell. In the instant before the effect is unleashed, the palm of my hand illuminates and in the growing light of arcane energy, fear finally settles in the eyes of Taurranous.

The scorching ray spell sears through the soft flesh of the bull lord's neck, and strikes the ceiling above him. Taurranous' head lops off as the bull lord's body crumples to the floor, his head seems to hang in midair for a second longer before coming to rest alongside of the defeated minotaur.

Wow!

Go Paquito! Who'd have thunk it?

It's nice to see another great story hour from you, Hairy Minotaur! Again, your stuff really reads like a novel. I like what you've done with the minotaurs and creating a brutal and oppressive atmosphere. Keep up the good work.