shilsen
Adventurer
Nearly three hours later, the Angels stand in the ruined basement of Burning Keep, looking at a blank stone wall. Six straightens from where he has been kneeling. “The tracks end here all right. Only going in. Looks like the other Flamers didn’t make it, Gareth.”
“Don’t call them Flamers,” says Gareth, giving Luna the evil eye. “It still doesn’t excuse her taking their things.”
This time, Luna looks unabashed. She pats the backpacks slung across her shoulder and grins. “Just giving them a good home.”
“And, as I said before,” comments Nameless, as he scans the area for ambient magic, “You didn’t have trouble with it before you found out about them being Flamers. So quit complaining now.” He looks around. “No magic that I can detect. It must be very well concealed. So, let’s try the phrase.”
Korm looks at the wall and intones loudly, “Darwaza dikhao*.”
Immediately, a six inch deep recess in the stone appears, forming the shape of a rounded doorframe a dozen feet high and about eight wide. Five finely cut dragonshards are set into it at well-spaced intervals. The door is a solid slab of stone, with no sign of a handle or a method for opening.
“Guess it works,” says Korm. “Let’s get ready before I try the opening phrase. If this guardian thing is as bad as she says, we’ll need all that we’ve got.” He and his compatriots cast a number of their standard preparatory spells. “Good thing Vraria took care of that Taint for us,” says Luna, before changing into a bear.
“Yes,” nods Korm, before looking up at the door again. “Okay – here goes. Darwaza kholo.”
Again, the effect is instantaneous. The stone doorway disappears, leaving behind a five foot stretch of tunnel. The tunnel disappears into a dense, thick fog, which the Angels recognize immediately. “Solid fog,” says Nameless.
“I can walk through it just fine right now,” says Korm, who has just used a freedom from movement on himself. “I’ll go ahead and check. You be ready.” The big orc steps into the tunnel.
As soon as he does, a surge of invisible magical energy assaults him. Korm staggers at the unexpected assault but shakes it off. “Aargh! There’s some kind of magic trap here. But I’m fine.” Undaunted, he does not even stop to heal himself, but proceeds into the fog, heading on with a hand on the wall to guide him and his sword extended to check the area ahead.
As soon as he takes a few steps, he hears the sound of soft giggling some distance ahead. Korm’s slight alarm at the sound is tempered immediately by his irritation as a question floats through the darkness behind him, in Six’s unmistakably metallic tones. “Korm – why are you giggling? And what’s wrong with your voice?”
“It’s not me! It’s something ahead.” As he speaks, Korm emerges from the fog, having covered what he estimates is sixty feet of tunnel, into the large chamber beyond it.
The walls, ceiling and floor of the square, forty foot long, room are featureless, made of a dark grey stone, which barely reflects the numerous continual flames that light it, which have been cast on apparently random locations around the chamber. Some are on the two rows of pillars that stretch down the room, holding up the ceiling twenty feet above. There are other flames (and more pillars) in an adjoining room too, which Korm can see through an open door to the side.
An odd feature that Korm notes is the little holes, smaller than the diameter of his little finger, which fill the room, covering walls, floor and ceiling. His attention, however, is mainly drawn by the only denizen of the room beside him.
Ten feet from the far wall stands a little gnome girl, maybe ten years old at best. She is dressed in a simple frock, worn under a long red hooded cloak, which ends right above the similarly colored boots on her feet. A wicker basket hangs on one arm.
Her eyes and Korm’s meet for a moment. Then, the little gnome girl smiles. And Korm’akhan, pride of the Gatekeepers, berserker bearer of the meteoric sword, who has faced mind flayers, beholders, dragons and rakshasas, turns and runs back into the fog.
Seconds later, he emerges on the other side. “What happened?” asks Gareth, surprised at Korm’s hurried arrival. “Did you see the guardian?”
“It’s a little girl,” gasps Korm.
“Wait,” asks Six, “Did you just run away from a little girl?” Luna gives a puzzled growl too. Nameless asks, “Was it something disguised as a little girl?”
“No idea,” says Korm with a scowl. “You didn’t let me finish. It’s a little gnome girl.”
“Crap!” says Six, “That changes things,” and Luna again gives a corroborating growl. Nameless and Gareth immediately begin to cast a couple of extra protective spells, as does Korm. While they are doing so, Korm describes the details of the room.
Once they are done, Nameless calls through the fog, “Hello?”
A childishly female voice answers, “Hello.”
“Who are you? What is your name?”
“Name?” The voice sounds a little puzzled, and then amused. “I do not … really have a name. But you can call me Red. Won’t you come and play with me?”
Suspiciously, Nameless asks, “What do you mean by play?”
“Um … play games?” There is an accompanying amused giggle, which doesn’t have quite the same effect on the Angels.
Luna growls and gestures around her chest, causing Six to ask, “Do you have an amulet there?”
“I dunno. If you come here, maybe I can help you look?”
“Why don’t you come out here?” asks Gareth, holding Kizmet, which emanates a feeling of combined curiosity and confusion.
“I can’t come out. You should come here. If you spend more time you’ll make Wolfie mad.”
“Wolfie? That doesn’t sound good,” mutters Korm. “I didn’t see anything else in there with her, but there were lots of shadows, and there was an open door to the next chamber.”
There is no other sound from beyond the fog, and Nameless finally shrugs. “Let’s just go in there and try to deal with it. We’re as prepared as can be.” The Angels prepare themselves to head in, Korm and Luna entering together, while Nameless plans to dimension door the rest past the fog.
Again, as soon as Korm (and this time, Luna) cross the threshold, they stagger under the impact of a magical assault. At the same time, Nameless casts his spell, but nothing happens. “Hold it!” Nameless casts a detect magic and soon says, “I detect a moderately powerful abjuration. Considering how it affects you whenever you enter, I’m guessing it’s a forbiddance. It’ll hurt us all as we enter, but once in, we’ll be fine. Unfortunately, it blocks all dimensional travel spells, including dimension door and teleport, as well as all summonings.”
Luna growls her irritation, as the alienist continues, “Anyway, can’t be helped. Let’s go on.” Luna, Gareth and he enter, wincing at the pain, and then the Angels stop to restore everyone to complete health. Having done so, they proceed through the solid fog. As they are doing so, Luna feels a whiff of air behind her. Reaching back with a rear paw, she feels it slide on an incredibly smooth and hard barrier, though Nameless, turning around to look, can see nothing. “Ah, great!” says Nameless. “I think it’s a Wall of Force.”
With no real option, the group continues carefully through the fog. They emerge into the chamber Korm described, to face the smiling visage of the little girl. “Ooh!” she squeals in excitement, “Lots of friends.” She peers at Six. “And a tin and wood man!” Then she lifts up her basket. “Do you want a treat?”
Korm looks around at the others, shrugs and steps forward. “Sure.”
Red steps forward, lifting the cover off the basket, to show that it is full of flat biscuit-like creations, brownish-gray in color and shaped like little bones. “Have one?” says Red.
“All right, I’ll try one,” says Korm, picking one up. As he is popping it into his mouth, he asks, “So, can you help us find this amulet we need?”
“Okay,” says Red, with a happy smile. “Do you like the treat?”
Korm chews and finds that the ‘treat’ is made of dried, solidified meat. As he swallows, he finds it has little specks of a harder substance in it. One larger and sharper piece catches in Korm’s teeth and he pulls it out, to see that it is a little shard of bone.
As he looks at it, Red says, “Give me a kiss?” She spreads her arms to be lifted, and as he looks down at her, Korm suddenly feels a powerful will insinuate itself into his mind, pushing aside all mental barriers and compelling him to obey her commands.
“Sure,” he says, or at least his body does, while his psyche claws desperately at the magical bonds from the back of his mind. To no avail. Korm picks Red up and kisses her on the cheek, while she throws both arms around his neck.
At her touch, Korm immediately feels a strange weakness** overcome him. His movements slow slightly, his thoughts become a little fuzzy and he feels his two most powerful dweomers slip from his mind. His companions, who have been watching with bemusement, see his face turn suddenly and deadly pale.
On the positive side, the effect breaks the control she had exerted over him and, with a startled cry of mingled pain, fear and anger, Korm hurls the little girl away from him as hard as he can. Red too lets out a startled cry as her small form flies through the air, but she never hits the ground. As she is thrown, both Luna and Six notice that her shadow is absolutely huge, much larger than should be, and moving in a manner that doesn’t fit her movements.
Now, moving with breathtaking speed, the shadow wraps around Red, stopping her fall in midair. As she hangs suspended for a second, more and more shadows wrap around her, expanding in size and taking on solidity. Within a second of Korm hurling her away, instead of Red there stands an ogre-sized creature, its heavily muscled form covered in what seems to be sleek ebony skin, its two long arms tapering down to large hands with cruelly hooked claws. Even more strangely, it has no head, its torso ending where a neck should be. Instead, Red’s head, still covered in her hooded cloak, protrudes from its chest.
She wears an expression of mild concern, and says, in an admonishing manner, “Now see what you did, silly? You made Wolfie really mad!”
Even as she speaks, the Angels burst into violent motion. The two druids are the fastest, unleashing claws and blade against it, but they might as well be attacking a mountain, for all the effect their weapons have, bouncing off the creature’s ebony hide without scratching it. Even as they charge in together, Nameless casts a spell and the air ripples, a bolt of sonic energy sliding neatly between them. To the alienist’s surprise, his target, large as it is, nimbly sidesteps, letting the attack pass harmlessly by.
Its movement takes it closer to an onrushing Gareth, who calls aloud upon the Flame, bringing Kizmet down in a gleaming arc that trails silver fire in its wake. Even Red, turning her head from where it protrudes from the chest of ‘Wolfie’ comments appreciatively, “Ooh – pretty!” And then Wolfie’s arm moves with amazing speed, deflecting Kizmet just enough that the blade hits its shoulder at an angle and bounces off.
“
!” says Six, as he dives by to try and catch the enemy between them. “We’re in trouble.” Deciding to try something different, the warforged swings low, his chain wrapping around its left leg. He tugs as hard as he can, and then stumbles off balance as Wolfie pulls back with much greater force. With a curse, Six lets go his chain and reaches for another. More cheerfully, Red says sympathetically, “Oopsie!”
Wolfie pauses to kick away the chain around its leg and then turns to Luna. Suddenly, a dark, wolflike head appears above its shoulders and it howls wildly. Overly muscular arms reach out to sink claws deep into the bear’s side and then rip and tear, while the head snaps long teeth into her back. Luna groans, feeling a similar draining sensation to the one Korm just felt, spells fading from her mind as well. Wolfie howls again in triumph and then its head fades away as quickly as it appeared.
The next few seconds are full of fear, frustration and fleeting relief for the Angels. Wolfie moves with unusual speed and its rocklike form blocks most blows. Even when sword and spell do connect, they inflict less damage than they should, and the wounds are closing, if ever so slowly. And to round things off, the creature seems resistant to magic as well.
Nevertheless, the wounds do accumulate. Six is soon pulling a third chain from his magical haversack, but the distraction he provides lets the others have a chance to hit. Nameless, having quickly cast the assay resistance spell Saala Torrn gifted him, batters Wolfie with magic missiles. The Silver Flame finally comes through for Gareth, Kizmet blazing a deep wound across the creature’s chest. And, unlike the wounds left by Korm’s sword, Six’s chain and Luna’s claws, this wound seems completely unaffected by the creature’s ability to absorb some of its wounds.
With an angry growl, Wolfie lashes out, laying Gareth’s arm open, draining him just as it has the others. And then the shadows in the chamber seem to rise up and swirl around it, and both Wolfie and Red are gone.
“What the hell?” says Korm, looking around, as do his companions. “Is it gone?” He concentrates and his nose and mouth lengthen into a muzzle, the hairs on it standing to attention, and he sniffs the still air around him. Though neither he nor the others can see it, Korm’s now heightened sense of smell lets him pick out a strange scent, dry and desiccated. And it is moving, passing behind and around a pillar to come up on the side of the Angels, who are looking around for it.
As Korm shouts a warning, Luna emits a similar growl, her sense of scent having pinpointed the same target. Even though she knows precisely where it is and is looking right at the spot, she sees nothing. But that’s not going to stop me, thinks the druid bear, lifting a claw and gesturing, while she growls an incantation. Immediately, a lavender glow appears in the area, outlining Wolfie’s form for all to see.
And target. As the surprised creature, which has been enjoying the chance of sneaking up on its enemies, pauses, the Angels rush it. And this time, luck seems to favor them. Wolfie is in the middle of a step when Six’s chain wraps around its leg, and the warforged hurls himself to the side. For a moment, Wolfie teeters and then crashes to the ground. Immediately, Luna and Korm are on it, hacking and slashing, while another spell from Nameless smashes into it. Most damagingly again, Gareth steps forward and slashes down at it with Kizmet.
Wolfie howls again, this time in both pain and rage, and then its form falls apart into a mistlike vapor. The reason for the holes is immediately revealed as the vapor flows into the floor and disappears.
“Did we kill it?” asks Six. Nameless shakes his head. “I doubt it. And I just realized what it is. The ability to drain our energy and to assume gaseous form? It’s a …”
“Vampire,” completes Gareth, grimly. “No wonder the damn thing was so resistant to your weapons.”
“Not yours, however,” comments Korm.
“I’m special.” Gareth smiles slightly as he calls on Kizmet to heal his wounds.
“No time to waste,” says Nameless. “Let’s check the other room.”
The Angels hurry through the connecting door and short tunnel to find themselves in a similarly lighted – and perforated – room, but much larger, and with multiple rows of pillars. They quickly spread out and begin to search the room, but neither magical nor mundane checking reveals anything hidden.
A minute has passed, when Nameless is very unpleasantly surprised by a cloud of vapor, still outlined in lavender light, which flows out of the ground next to him. Even as he calls a warning, it transforms back into the form of Wolfie. The ebony form still bears the scars of some of the wounds the Angels had inflicted, but most of them have been healed. Red’s face still protrudes from its chest, and she smiles cheerfully, and says, “I spy, with my little eye – you!”
“Spy this!” mutters Nameless, stepping back and unleashing a spell. The alienist throws all of his magical energy and knowledge into it, crafting the most powerful fireball that he has ever cast or seen***. And as the magical flames blossom, he screams in frustration as Wolfie nimbly dodges between the bursts of fire, leaping out and away from their path.
Focused on the magic as they are, both Nameless and the creature have missed a more mundane factor. Even as the fireball is exploding, Luna is charging forward. Seeing the creature leaping away and hearing Nameless shout in anger, she abandons her planned attack and simply throws her bulk into Wolfie. Nearly two thousand pounds of angry bear slam into it, smashing it back into the heart of the flames****.
It screams, as flesh melts, chars and falls to dust. And this is when Wolfie makes its second mistake. The first was to return to the attack before it was fully healed from its wounds. And now, badly wounded, it should flee through the holes, where the Angels cannot follow, and return later. But it is both pained and completely infuriated. Bound to this place centuries ago, the guardian lives a strange semi-life, doomed to remain in stasis until intruders appear, fighting and destroying them, and then being returned to stasis shortly afterwards. Its only function is to destroy, though the strange humor of its rakshasa creator displays itself in the twin personality of Red and Wolfie that he put together into it. It is only sentient in a limited sense. And it does not completely believe that it might lose. In all the years since its creation, whatever it has faced, whether human, orc, elf, ogre, giant or rakshasa, it has destroyed. And nothing has ever hurt it quite as much as the Angels have. Whatever veneer of sentience the creature has is lost as it focuses purely on destruction.
It howls its anger and pain, before lashing out at Nameless with all its power. He is lifted from the floor and a flurry of claws and fangs lay his chest and throat open to the bone. Even so, the alienist might have remained barely conscious, but the additional, automatic draining of energy is too much to bear, and he drops into a rapidly spreading pool of blood.
But even as he goes down, his allies swarm all over the enemy. Sword, chain and claw strike home, and again, Kizmet strikes the deadliest blow. This time, Wolfie’s body falls apart into streamers of shadow that flash out of existence. All they leave behind is Red’s falling form, which turns into another cloud of smoke before it hits the ground. It seeps through the holes, a parting bolt of flame from Luna passing harmlessly through it.
“Did we kill it?” asks Six again.
“Not really,” says Gareth. “If it’s a true vampire, it will return, after taking time to recover in its coffin. That can take hours. But we beat it.”
To underline his words, there is a loud ‘click’ and a large panel flips open in the wall, to reveal a peg from which an amulet hangs, while a number of items, mostly clothing, are arrayed beneath it. Korm, Six and Gareth hurry to it.
A loud growl interrupts them, and they turn to see Luna standing over Nameless’s form. She shakes her head in disgust at them and then channels as powerful a spell as she can. The alienist convulses, as many of his wounds close, and groggily opens his eyes. “Since I'm still breathing, I presume we won.”
“Yes,” says Korm. “And we found the amulet.”
He turns to examine it, a dark metal oval shaped into the snarling head of a rakshasa, hanging from a similar dark metal chain. Korm reaches out to pick it up. As he touches the amulet, he feels a wave of weakness wash over him, similar to what the guardian’s touch did, but twice as powerful.
With a curse, Korm drops the amulet, and the feeling of weakness instantly disappears. “O-kay!” He carefully picks the amulet up with a cloth, making sure not to contact it, and sticks it in a bag. Then he and the others quickly grab the rest of the items there. “Let’s get out of here.”
Nameless, shakily having climbed back to his feet and then onto Luna’s back, nods. “I just hope that wall of force isn’t there. If it is, we’re screwed.”
Luckily for the Angels, it isn’t, and seconds later they are back in the basement of Burning Keep. As they emerge from the secret chamber, the stone door flashes back into existence behind them, so close that it shaves a few hairs off Luna’s tail. Seconds later, there’s a rumble from the surrounding stone. Even though it has apparently stood for centuries, cracks begin to appear in it and dust streams down from the crumbling ceiling. As the Angels hurry up the stairs, the rumbling gets louder and turns into the sound of crashing stone, as the lowest level, followed more slowly by the penultimate one, and then the one above it, collapses in on itself. As they emerge into the top level, a thick cloud of dust billows up the stairs after them. Waving away the dust, they see that it is blocked from only a few feet down with debris and rubble.
“Well, nobody’s going down there again,” says Six.
“Good riddance,” says Nameless, while Korm and a now shifter Luna begin to heal the group one by one. “At least we got what we wanted and came out alive. I’m just curious what kind of bastard would design such a thing and put it down there.”
* Why, yes – fiends do use Hindi for all magical passwords.
** 2 negative levels
*** Rolled a 53 on 10d6
**** More mundanely, that was me allowing Luna’s player to throw in an action point (Nameless already had asked to do so and rolled but not well enough) to lower the enemy’s save to the point where he failed to make it. See – I really am just a pussycat.
“Don’t call them Flamers,” says Gareth, giving Luna the evil eye. “It still doesn’t excuse her taking their things.”
This time, Luna looks unabashed. She pats the backpacks slung across her shoulder and grins. “Just giving them a good home.”
“And, as I said before,” comments Nameless, as he scans the area for ambient magic, “You didn’t have trouble with it before you found out about them being Flamers. So quit complaining now.” He looks around. “No magic that I can detect. It must be very well concealed. So, let’s try the phrase.”
Korm looks at the wall and intones loudly, “Darwaza dikhao*.”
Immediately, a six inch deep recess in the stone appears, forming the shape of a rounded doorframe a dozen feet high and about eight wide. Five finely cut dragonshards are set into it at well-spaced intervals. The door is a solid slab of stone, with no sign of a handle or a method for opening.
“Guess it works,” says Korm. “Let’s get ready before I try the opening phrase. If this guardian thing is as bad as she says, we’ll need all that we’ve got.” He and his compatriots cast a number of their standard preparatory spells. “Good thing Vraria took care of that Taint for us,” says Luna, before changing into a bear.
“Yes,” nods Korm, before looking up at the door again. “Okay – here goes. Darwaza kholo.”
Again, the effect is instantaneous. The stone doorway disappears, leaving behind a five foot stretch of tunnel. The tunnel disappears into a dense, thick fog, which the Angels recognize immediately. “Solid fog,” says Nameless.
“I can walk through it just fine right now,” says Korm, who has just used a freedom from movement on himself. “I’ll go ahead and check. You be ready.” The big orc steps into the tunnel.
As soon as he does, a surge of invisible magical energy assaults him. Korm staggers at the unexpected assault but shakes it off. “Aargh! There’s some kind of magic trap here. But I’m fine.” Undaunted, he does not even stop to heal himself, but proceeds into the fog, heading on with a hand on the wall to guide him and his sword extended to check the area ahead.
As soon as he takes a few steps, he hears the sound of soft giggling some distance ahead. Korm’s slight alarm at the sound is tempered immediately by his irritation as a question floats through the darkness behind him, in Six’s unmistakably metallic tones. “Korm – why are you giggling? And what’s wrong with your voice?”
“It’s not me! It’s something ahead.” As he speaks, Korm emerges from the fog, having covered what he estimates is sixty feet of tunnel, into the large chamber beyond it.
The walls, ceiling and floor of the square, forty foot long, room are featureless, made of a dark grey stone, which barely reflects the numerous continual flames that light it, which have been cast on apparently random locations around the chamber. Some are on the two rows of pillars that stretch down the room, holding up the ceiling twenty feet above. There are other flames (and more pillars) in an adjoining room too, which Korm can see through an open door to the side.
An odd feature that Korm notes is the little holes, smaller than the diameter of his little finger, which fill the room, covering walls, floor and ceiling. His attention, however, is mainly drawn by the only denizen of the room beside him.
Ten feet from the far wall stands a little gnome girl, maybe ten years old at best. She is dressed in a simple frock, worn under a long red hooded cloak, which ends right above the similarly colored boots on her feet. A wicker basket hangs on one arm.
Her eyes and Korm’s meet for a moment. Then, the little gnome girl smiles. And Korm’akhan, pride of the Gatekeepers, berserker bearer of the meteoric sword, who has faced mind flayers, beholders, dragons and rakshasas, turns and runs back into the fog.
Seconds later, he emerges on the other side. “What happened?” asks Gareth, surprised at Korm’s hurried arrival. “Did you see the guardian?”
“It’s a little girl,” gasps Korm.
“Wait,” asks Six, “Did you just run away from a little girl?” Luna gives a puzzled growl too. Nameless asks, “Was it something disguised as a little girl?”
“No idea,” says Korm with a scowl. “You didn’t let me finish. It’s a little gnome girl.”
“Crap!” says Six, “That changes things,” and Luna again gives a corroborating growl. Nameless and Gareth immediately begin to cast a couple of extra protective spells, as does Korm. While they are doing so, Korm describes the details of the room.
Once they are done, Nameless calls through the fog, “Hello?”
A childishly female voice answers, “Hello.”
“Who are you? What is your name?”
“Name?” The voice sounds a little puzzled, and then amused. “I do not … really have a name. But you can call me Red. Won’t you come and play with me?”
Suspiciously, Nameless asks, “What do you mean by play?”
“Um … play games?” There is an accompanying amused giggle, which doesn’t have quite the same effect on the Angels.
Luna growls and gestures around her chest, causing Six to ask, “Do you have an amulet there?”
“I dunno. If you come here, maybe I can help you look?”
“Why don’t you come out here?” asks Gareth, holding Kizmet, which emanates a feeling of combined curiosity and confusion.
“I can’t come out. You should come here. If you spend more time you’ll make Wolfie mad.”
“Wolfie? That doesn’t sound good,” mutters Korm. “I didn’t see anything else in there with her, but there were lots of shadows, and there was an open door to the next chamber.”
There is no other sound from beyond the fog, and Nameless finally shrugs. “Let’s just go in there and try to deal with it. We’re as prepared as can be.” The Angels prepare themselves to head in, Korm and Luna entering together, while Nameless plans to dimension door the rest past the fog.
Again, as soon as Korm (and this time, Luna) cross the threshold, they stagger under the impact of a magical assault. At the same time, Nameless casts his spell, but nothing happens. “Hold it!” Nameless casts a detect magic and soon says, “I detect a moderately powerful abjuration. Considering how it affects you whenever you enter, I’m guessing it’s a forbiddance. It’ll hurt us all as we enter, but once in, we’ll be fine. Unfortunately, it blocks all dimensional travel spells, including dimension door and teleport, as well as all summonings.”
Luna growls her irritation, as the alienist continues, “Anyway, can’t be helped. Let’s go on.” Luna, Gareth and he enter, wincing at the pain, and then the Angels stop to restore everyone to complete health. Having done so, they proceed through the solid fog. As they are doing so, Luna feels a whiff of air behind her. Reaching back with a rear paw, she feels it slide on an incredibly smooth and hard barrier, though Nameless, turning around to look, can see nothing. “Ah, great!” says Nameless. “I think it’s a Wall of Force.”
With no real option, the group continues carefully through the fog. They emerge into the chamber Korm described, to face the smiling visage of the little girl. “Ooh!” she squeals in excitement, “Lots of friends.” She peers at Six. “And a tin and wood man!” Then she lifts up her basket. “Do you want a treat?”
Korm looks around at the others, shrugs and steps forward. “Sure.”
Red steps forward, lifting the cover off the basket, to show that it is full of flat biscuit-like creations, brownish-gray in color and shaped like little bones. “Have one?” says Red.
“All right, I’ll try one,” says Korm, picking one up. As he is popping it into his mouth, he asks, “So, can you help us find this amulet we need?”
“Okay,” says Red, with a happy smile. “Do you like the treat?”
Korm chews and finds that the ‘treat’ is made of dried, solidified meat. As he swallows, he finds it has little specks of a harder substance in it. One larger and sharper piece catches in Korm’s teeth and he pulls it out, to see that it is a little shard of bone.
As he looks at it, Red says, “Give me a kiss?” She spreads her arms to be lifted, and as he looks down at her, Korm suddenly feels a powerful will insinuate itself into his mind, pushing aside all mental barriers and compelling him to obey her commands.
“Sure,” he says, or at least his body does, while his psyche claws desperately at the magical bonds from the back of his mind. To no avail. Korm picks Red up and kisses her on the cheek, while she throws both arms around his neck.
At her touch, Korm immediately feels a strange weakness** overcome him. His movements slow slightly, his thoughts become a little fuzzy and he feels his two most powerful dweomers slip from his mind. His companions, who have been watching with bemusement, see his face turn suddenly and deadly pale.
On the positive side, the effect breaks the control she had exerted over him and, with a startled cry of mingled pain, fear and anger, Korm hurls the little girl away from him as hard as he can. Red too lets out a startled cry as her small form flies through the air, but she never hits the ground. As she is thrown, both Luna and Six notice that her shadow is absolutely huge, much larger than should be, and moving in a manner that doesn’t fit her movements.
Now, moving with breathtaking speed, the shadow wraps around Red, stopping her fall in midair. As she hangs suspended for a second, more and more shadows wrap around her, expanding in size and taking on solidity. Within a second of Korm hurling her away, instead of Red there stands an ogre-sized creature, its heavily muscled form covered in what seems to be sleek ebony skin, its two long arms tapering down to large hands with cruelly hooked claws. Even more strangely, it has no head, its torso ending where a neck should be. Instead, Red’s head, still covered in her hooded cloak, protrudes from its chest.
She wears an expression of mild concern, and says, in an admonishing manner, “Now see what you did, silly? You made Wolfie really mad!”
Even as she speaks, the Angels burst into violent motion. The two druids are the fastest, unleashing claws and blade against it, but they might as well be attacking a mountain, for all the effect their weapons have, bouncing off the creature’s ebony hide without scratching it. Even as they charge in together, Nameless casts a spell and the air ripples, a bolt of sonic energy sliding neatly between them. To the alienist’s surprise, his target, large as it is, nimbly sidesteps, letting the attack pass harmlessly by.
Its movement takes it closer to an onrushing Gareth, who calls aloud upon the Flame, bringing Kizmet down in a gleaming arc that trails silver fire in its wake. Even Red, turning her head from where it protrudes from the chest of ‘Wolfie’ comments appreciatively, “Ooh – pretty!” And then Wolfie’s arm moves with amazing speed, deflecting Kizmet just enough that the blade hits its shoulder at an angle and bounces off.
“
!” says Six, as he dives by to try and catch the enemy between them. “We’re in trouble.” Deciding to try something different, the warforged swings low, his chain wrapping around its left leg. He tugs as hard as he can, and then stumbles off balance as Wolfie pulls back with much greater force. With a curse, Six lets go his chain and reaches for another. More cheerfully, Red says sympathetically, “Oopsie!”Wolfie pauses to kick away the chain around its leg and then turns to Luna. Suddenly, a dark, wolflike head appears above its shoulders and it howls wildly. Overly muscular arms reach out to sink claws deep into the bear’s side and then rip and tear, while the head snaps long teeth into her back. Luna groans, feeling a similar draining sensation to the one Korm just felt, spells fading from her mind as well. Wolfie howls again in triumph and then its head fades away as quickly as it appeared.
The next few seconds are full of fear, frustration and fleeting relief for the Angels. Wolfie moves with unusual speed and its rocklike form blocks most blows. Even when sword and spell do connect, they inflict less damage than they should, and the wounds are closing, if ever so slowly. And to round things off, the creature seems resistant to magic as well.
Nevertheless, the wounds do accumulate. Six is soon pulling a third chain from his magical haversack, but the distraction he provides lets the others have a chance to hit. Nameless, having quickly cast the assay resistance spell Saala Torrn gifted him, batters Wolfie with magic missiles. The Silver Flame finally comes through for Gareth, Kizmet blazing a deep wound across the creature’s chest. And, unlike the wounds left by Korm’s sword, Six’s chain and Luna’s claws, this wound seems completely unaffected by the creature’s ability to absorb some of its wounds.
With an angry growl, Wolfie lashes out, laying Gareth’s arm open, draining him just as it has the others. And then the shadows in the chamber seem to rise up and swirl around it, and both Wolfie and Red are gone.
“What the hell?” says Korm, looking around, as do his companions. “Is it gone?” He concentrates and his nose and mouth lengthen into a muzzle, the hairs on it standing to attention, and he sniffs the still air around him. Though neither he nor the others can see it, Korm’s now heightened sense of smell lets him pick out a strange scent, dry and desiccated. And it is moving, passing behind and around a pillar to come up on the side of the Angels, who are looking around for it.
As Korm shouts a warning, Luna emits a similar growl, her sense of scent having pinpointed the same target. Even though she knows precisely where it is and is looking right at the spot, she sees nothing. But that’s not going to stop me, thinks the druid bear, lifting a claw and gesturing, while she growls an incantation. Immediately, a lavender glow appears in the area, outlining Wolfie’s form for all to see.
And target. As the surprised creature, which has been enjoying the chance of sneaking up on its enemies, pauses, the Angels rush it. And this time, luck seems to favor them. Wolfie is in the middle of a step when Six’s chain wraps around its leg, and the warforged hurls himself to the side. For a moment, Wolfie teeters and then crashes to the ground. Immediately, Luna and Korm are on it, hacking and slashing, while another spell from Nameless smashes into it. Most damagingly again, Gareth steps forward and slashes down at it with Kizmet.
Wolfie howls again, this time in both pain and rage, and then its form falls apart into a mistlike vapor. The reason for the holes is immediately revealed as the vapor flows into the floor and disappears.
“Did we kill it?” asks Six. Nameless shakes his head. “I doubt it. And I just realized what it is. The ability to drain our energy and to assume gaseous form? It’s a …”
“Vampire,” completes Gareth, grimly. “No wonder the damn thing was so resistant to your weapons.”
“Not yours, however,” comments Korm.
“I’m special.” Gareth smiles slightly as he calls on Kizmet to heal his wounds.
“No time to waste,” says Nameless. “Let’s check the other room.”
The Angels hurry through the connecting door and short tunnel to find themselves in a similarly lighted – and perforated – room, but much larger, and with multiple rows of pillars. They quickly spread out and begin to search the room, but neither magical nor mundane checking reveals anything hidden.
A minute has passed, when Nameless is very unpleasantly surprised by a cloud of vapor, still outlined in lavender light, which flows out of the ground next to him. Even as he calls a warning, it transforms back into the form of Wolfie. The ebony form still bears the scars of some of the wounds the Angels had inflicted, but most of them have been healed. Red’s face still protrudes from its chest, and she smiles cheerfully, and says, “I spy, with my little eye – you!”
“Spy this!” mutters Nameless, stepping back and unleashing a spell. The alienist throws all of his magical energy and knowledge into it, crafting the most powerful fireball that he has ever cast or seen***. And as the magical flames blossom, he screams in frustration as Wolfie nimbly dodges between the bursts of fire, leaping out and away from their path.
Focused on the magic as they are, both Nameless and the creature have missed a more mundane factor. Even as the fireball is exploding, Luna is charging forward. Seeing the creature leaping away and hearing Nameless shout in anger, she abandons her planned attack and simply throws her bulk into Wolfie. Nearly two thousand pounds of angry bear slam into it, smashing it back into the heart of the flames****.
It screams, as flesh melts, chars and falls to dust. And this is when Wolfie makes its second mistake. The first was to return to the attack before it was fully healed from its wounds. And now, badly wounded, it should flee through the holes, where the Angels cannot follow, and return later. But it is both pained and completely infuriated. Bound to this place centuries ago, the guardian lives a strange semi-life, doomed to remain in stasis until intruders appear, fighting and destroying them, and then being returned to stasis shortly afterwards. Its only function is to destroy, though the strange humor of its rakshasa creator displays itself in the twin personality of Red and Wolfie that he put together into it. It is only sentient in a limited sense. And it does not completely believe that it might lose. In all the years since its creation, whatever it has faced, whether human, orc, elf, ogre, giant or rakshasa, it has destroyed. And nothing has ever hurt it quite as much as the Angels have. Whatever veneer of sentience the creature has is lost as it focuses purely on destruction.
It howls its anger and pain, before lashing out at Nameless with all its power. He is lifted from the floor and a flurry of claws and fangs lay his chest and throat open to the bone. Even so, the alienist might have remained barely conscious, but the additional, automatic draining of energy is too much to bear, and he drops into a rapidly spreading pool of blood.
But even as he goes down, his allies swarm all over the enemy. Sword, chain and claw strike home, and again, Kizmet strikes the deadliest blow. This time, Wolfie’s body falls apart into streamers of shadow that flash out of existence. All they leave behind is Red’s falling form, which turns into another cloud of smoke before it hits the ground. It seeps through the holes, a parting bolt of flame from Luna passing harmlessly through it.
“Did we kill it?” asks Six again.
“Not really,” says Gareth. “If it’s a true vampire, it will return, after taking time to recover in its coffin. That can take hours. But we beat it.”
To underline his words, there is a loud ‘click’ and a large panel flips open in the wall, to reveal a peg from which an amulet hangs, while a number of items, mostly clothing, are arrayed beneath it. Korm, Six and Gareth hurry to it.
A loud growl interrupts them, and they turn to see Luna standing over Nameless’s form. She shakes her head in disgust at them and then channels as powerful a spell as she can. The alienist convulses, as many of his wounds close, and groggily opens his eyes. “Since I'm still breathing, I presume we won.”
“Yes,” says Korm. “And we found the amulet.”
He turns to examine it, a dark metal oval shaped into the snarling head of a rakshasa, hanging from a similar dark metal chain. Korm reaches out to pick it up. As he touches the amulet, he feels a wave of weakness wash over him, similar to what the guardian’s touch did, but twice as powerful.
With a curse, Korm drops the amulet, and the feeling of weakness instantly disappears. “O-kay!” He carefully picks the amulet up with a cloth, making sure not to contact it, and sticks it in a bag. Then he and the others quickly grab the rest of the items there. “Let’s get out of here.”
Nameless, shakily having climbed back to his feet and then onto Luna’s back, nods. “I just hope that wall of force isn’t there. If it is, we’re screwed.”
Luckily for the Angels, it isn’t, and seconds later they are back in the basement of Burning Keep. As they emerge from the secret chamber, the stone door flashes back into existence behind them, so close that it shaves a few hairs off Luna’s tail. Seconds later, there’s a rumble from the surrounding stone. Even though it has apparently stood for centuries, cracks begin to appear in it and dust streams down from the crumbling ceiling. As the Angels hurry up the stairs, the rumbling gets louder and turns into the sound of crashing stone, as the lowest level, followed more slowly by the penultimate one, and then the one above it, collapses in on itself. As they emerge into the top level, a thick cloud of dust billows up the stairs after them. Waving away the dust, they see that it is blocked from only a few feet down with debris and rubble.
“Well, nobody’s going down there again,” says Six.
“Good riddance,” says Nameless, while Korm and a now shifter Luna begin to heal the group one by one. “At least we got what we wanted and came out alive. I’m just curious what kind of bastard would design such a thing and put it down there.”
* Why, yes – fiends do use Hindi for all magical passwords.
** 2 negative levels
*** Rolled a 53 on 10d6
**** More mundanely, that was me allowing Luna’s player to throw in an action point (Nameless already had asked to do so and rolled but not well enough) to lower the enemy’s save to the point where he failed to make it. See – I really am just a pussycat.
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![:]](http://www.enworld.org/forum/images/smilies/devious.png "Devious :]")
