the Jester
Legend
With translucent, ghostly figures rushing her from both sides, Vann-La skids to a stop and starts swinging. Torinn rushes to join her, his spiked chain whistling through the air as he swings at the incorporeal figures attacking them. Heimall charges past her, roaring, “FOR THE EMPIRE!!” as he rushes at the three-skulled figure.
“Let me prep the situation for you!” Iggy calls, pulling out his master’s wand of magic missile and firing a bolt of force from it. The missile blasts the triskulled undead in the chest and knocks him prone. “Hah!” crows the wizard. “He’s ready for you now, Heimall!”
Heimall continues his charge, but as he gets close, a large, hulking figure rises from where it had been hiding in the pit. It has a long, wicked trident in its arms, which it extends, and Heimall runs right onto it- and is impaled.
Coughing blood, the warlord still manages to jab the skull lord on the ground with Throat-Ripper. Then the huge figure hoists him up off the ground. Feet dangling, Heimall stares at his opponent. It has the worst features of some kind of terrible insect mixed with an all-too-human malice. It twists the trident and Heimall groans in pain.
The skull lord rises to its feet with a clatter. Its three skulls glare. One of them fixes Heimall in its gaze, and he feels a bone-chilling fear gallop into his chest with a nearly physical impact. His lips turn blue with cold and he gasps. With a contemptuous heave, the insect-like creature pushes him off of the trident, and Heimall runs back a few paces.
Behind him, Vann-La and Torinn destroy ghost after ghost, turning them into sprays of ectoplasm. Then the eyes of a second skull glow- and bits of goop from the slaughtered ghosts start to congeal, until one of them rises again.
“Hey!” exclaims Vann-La. Then she points at the skull lord. “All right, you’re next!” –and she starts advancing towards the end of the hallway.
“I’ve got the ghosts,” Torinn declares. “You get the skull lord!”
In the back of the party, Ligir gasps. “That’s a mezzodemon!” he cries, pointing at the trident-wielding creature. “Heimall, Vann-La, watch out!”
The mezzodemon doesn’t give them time to adjust their approach. Instead, it belches out a cloud of foul vapors that envelopes them. Coughing and hacking, Vann-La still manages to parry the trident blow on her shield, and she starts dancing with the demon, trying to parry its blows while sending a skull-shattering hammer blow at the skull lord. It wails from its two remaining skulls.
Suddenly, a secret door in one of the alcoves swings open and more adversaries enter the battle, hitting the party in the flank. Three skeletons join the fray. The first two move in towards the heroes at the front, while the third advances on Ligir.
But behind Iggy is Cook, who springs out of hiding to hurl a shuriken from his distant homeland of Muk Nam at the skeleton. It hits it, and in response, the skeleton- strangely- grabs its own throat.
And rips its own spine out.
Which it then proceeds to use as a weapon, swinging it like a whip at Iggy and hitting him with terrific force.
Meanwhile, the mezzodemon manages to pin Vann-La with its trident, impaling her. It has a good amount of reach on her; she can’t reach it with her hammer. With a scream of anger and pain, she tries to push herself free- and fails! Behind her, the other skeletons engage Torinn, who is still working on the ghosts as well. Cook moves up to flank them from behind- one of them is ripping its spine out like its companion attacking Ligir did- and smashing ruthlessly at them with his frying pan.
Iggy fires a magic missile as the spine-wielding skeleton moves inexorably forward towards him. He blasts it, but it keeps coming, cracking its bone whip at him and sending him reeling with the force of the blow. Shaking his head, he dimension doors away, between Cook and Torinn.
In the thick of it, in other words.
Heimall is pressing the skull lord back against the wall, landing blow after blow with Throat-Ripper, and its second skull shatters. The third one keeps reconstituting ghosts, however, which continue to tie Torinn down. At least he has smashed the non-spine-wielding skeleton into powder.
Vann-La finally shakes herself off of the trident with a horrifying wail of pain. Then, staggering, she swings her hammer at it. Crack! It bounces harmlessly from the mezzodemon’s thick carapace. The Kree warrior grimaces, blood pouring from her chest where the trident had stuck into her.
Beside her, Heimall slashes his glaive out again- and decapitates the third skull of the skull lord. It collapses in a tumble of falling bone. Gasping, shivering, Heimall turns to flank the mezzodemon, and he and Vann-La press their attack like a hammer and anvil!
Iggy pulls out the sunpowder pistol that he looted from orcish pistoleers so long ago and loads it. Glaring at the spine-whipping skeleton, he shouts, “I always have a holdout!”
Blam! Ligir fires the gun. Ping! His shot deflects harmlessly from the skeleton. Muttering to himself, he pulls and drinks a potion of healing to fortify himself; he has taken quite a beating!
Torinn whips his spiked chain through another ghost, dissolving it into ectoplasmic residue, then whirls and parries an incoming spinal whip crack, redirecting it with his chain held taut. Immediately, the Dragon of Fandelose leaps to meet the foe, ablaze with the radiant fury of his deity. Cook dances in from the side, smashing the leg of one of the spinal skeletons badly enough to turn it into walking wounded. and Iggy finishes it off with a force orb. The three of them quickly annihilate the other skeleton and turn to the last standing foe: the mezzodemon.
Vann-La and Heimall are still struggling with the demon. It keeps impaling Vann-La and holding her at bay, while most of Heimall’s blows rebound from it. Still, the demon is gushing ichor from multiple wounds. “You fools!” it sneers. “Even if you destroy this body, I shall return to destroy you! I will not truly die- I will just return to the Abyss that spawned me!”
“Whatever,” replies Iggy, and he magic missiles the demon- and it falls.
With another scream, Vann-La pulls the trident out one last time. Torinn and Heimall hurry over to heal her, and the party pauses to catch its breath.
***
After a short rest, they find that the recessed area that the mezzodemon had been hiding in has a mix of earth, blood and crushed flesh and bone at the bottom. It is unwholesome, to say the least. But Vann-La cautions them, “I see something under there.”
They look at her, disbelieving. “Damn sharp elven eyes,” comments Torinn.
It turns out to be a trap door. They decide to finish searching the area above before investigating it, and carefully approach the secret doors that the skeletons came through. This leads to the 15’x35’ chamber that lies behind the door the party hadn’t yet opened from the front room. The only thing of note in the chamber is a pile of bones and stuff that turns out to be someone who had been ripped literally to pieces. A few serviceable pieces of gear are left, which Torinn and Iggy report are magical. Vann-La lays claim to the bastard sword- “I had been planning to change weapons before long anyway,” she says- while the elven boots go, ironically, to the dwarven Cook.
Further searching turns up no additional exits or secret doors. Only the gruesome trap door remains.
“All right,” sighs Ligir, “let’s get this over with.”
The party returns to the pit area and scrapes through the muck to reveal the trap door until Vann-La can get a grip on the metal ring set into the surface. With a grunt, she pulls it open with a squelching sound.
A brass ladder descends beneath the trap door. Vann-La peers downward, then draws her sword. “Worg,” she whispers.
And then she leaps down the hole.
Next Time: Deeper into Morl’s Retreat!
“Let me prep the situation for you!” Iggy calls, pulling out his master’s wand of magic missile and firing a bolt of force from it. The missile blasts the triskulled undead in the chest and knocks him prone. “Hah!” crows the wizard. “He’s ready for you now, Heimall!”
Heimall continues his charge, but as he gets close, a large, hulking figure rises from where it had been hiding in the pit. It has a long, wicked trident in its arms, which it extends, and Heimall runs right onto it- and is impaled.
Coughing blood, the warlord still manages to jab the skull lord on the ground with Throat-Ripper. Then the huge figure hoists him up off the ground. Feet dangling, Heimall stares at his opponent. It has the worst features of some kind of terrible insect mixed with an all-too-human malice. It twists the trident and Heimall groans in pain.
The skull lord rises to its feet with a clatter. Its three skulls glare. One of them fixes Heimall in its gaze, and he feels a bone-chilling fear gallop into his chest with a nearly physical impact. His lips turn blue with cold and he gasps. With a contemptuous heave, the insect-like creature pushes him off of the trident, and Heimall runs back a few paces.
Behind him, Vann-La and Torinn destroy ghost after ghost, turning them into sprays of ectoplasm. Then the eyes of a second skull glow- and bits of goop from the slaughtered ghosts start to congeal, until one of them rises again.
“Hey!” exclaims Vann-La. Then she points at the skull lord. “All right, you’re next!” –and she starts advancing towards the end of the hallway.
“I’ve got the ghosts,” Torinn declares. “You get the skull lord!”
In the back of the party, Ligir gasps. “That’s a mezzodemon!” he cries, pointing at the trident-wielding creature. “Heimall, Vann-La, watch out!”
The mezzodemon doesn’t give them time to adjust their approach. Instead, it belches out a cloud of foul vapors that envelopes them. Coughing and hacking, Vann-La still manages to parry the trident blow on her shield, and she starts dancing with the demon, trying to parry its blows while sending a skull-shattering hammer blow at the skull lord. It wails from its two remaining skulls.
Suddenly, a secret door in one of the alcoves swings open and more adversaries enter the battle, hitting the party in the flank. Three skeletons join the fray. The first two move in towards the heroes at the front, while the third advances on Ligir.
But behind Iggy is Cook, who springs out of hiding to hurl a shuriken from his distant homeland of Muk Nam at the skeleton. It hits it, and in response, the skeleton- strangely- grabs its own throat.
And rips its own spine out.
Which it then proceeds to use as a weapon, swinging it like a whip at Iggy and hitting him with terrific force.
Meanwhile, the mezzodemon manages to pin Vann-La with its trident, impaling her. It has a good amount of reach on her; she can’t reach it with her hammer. With a scream of anger and pain, she tries to push herself free- and fails! Behind her, the other skeletons engage Torinn, who is still working on the ghosts as well. Cook moves up to flank them from behind- one of them is ripping its spine out like its companion attacking Ligir did- and smashing ruthlessly at them with his frying pan.
Iggy fires a magic missile as the spine-wielding skeleton moves inexorably forward towards him. He blasts it, but it keeps coming, cracking its bone whip at him and sending him reeling with the force of the blow. Shaking his head, he dimension doors away, between Cook and Torinn.
In the thick of it, in other words.
Heimall is pressing the skull lord back against the wall, landing blow after blow with Throat-Ripper, and its second skull shatters. The third one keeps reconstituting ghosts, however, which continue to tie Torinn down. At least he has smashed the non-spine-wielding skeleton into powder.
Vann-La finally shakes herself off of the trident with a horrifying wail of pain. Then, staggering, she swings her hammer at it. Crack! It bounces harmlessly from the mezzodemon’s thick carapace. The Kree warrior grimaces, blood pouring from her chest where the trident had stuck into her.
Beside her, Heimall slashes his glaive out again- and decapitates the third skull of the skull lord. It collapses in a tumble of falling bone. Gasping, shivering, Heimall turns to flank the mezzodemon, and he and Vann-La press their attack like a hammer and anvil!
Iggy pulls out the sunpowder pistol that he looted from orcish pistoleers so long ago and loads it. Glaring at the spine-whipping skeleton, he shouts, “I always have a holdout!”
Blam! Ligir fires the gun. Ping! His shot deflects harmlessly from the skeleton. Muttering to himself, he pulls and drinks a potion of healing to fortify himself; he has taken quite a beating!
Torinn whips his spiked chain through another ghost, dissolving it into ectoplasmic residue, then whirls and parries an incoming spinal whip crack, redirecting it with his chain held taut. Immediately, the Dragon of Fandelose leaps to meet the foe, ablaze with the radiant fury of his deity. Cook dances in from the side, smashing the leg of one of the spinal skeletons badly enough to turn it into walking wounded. and Iggy finishes it off with a force orb. The three of them quickly annihilate the other skeleton and turn to the last standing foe: the mezzodemon.
Vann-La and Heimall are still struggling with the demon. It keeps impaling Vann-La and holding her at bay, while most of Heimall’s blows rebound from it. Still, the demon is gushing ichor from multiple wounds. “You fools!” it sneers. “Even if you destroy this body, I shall return to destroy you! I will not truly die- I will just return to the Abyss that spawned me!”
“Whatever,” replies Iggy, and he magic missiles the demon- and it falls.
With another scream, Vann-La pulls the trident out one last time. Torinn and Heimall hurry over to heal her, and the party pauses to catch its breath.
***
After a short rest, they find that the recessed area that the mezzodemon had been hiding in has a mix of earth, blood and crushed flesh and bone at the bottom. It is unwholesome, to say the least. But Vann-La cautions them, “I see something under there.”
They look at her, disbelieving. “Damn sharp elven eyes,” comments Torinn.
It turns out to be a trap door. They decide to finish searching the area above before investigating it, and carefully approach the secret doors that the skeletons came through. This leads to the 15’x35’ chamber that lies behind the door the party hadn’t yet opened from the front room. The only thing of note in the chamber is a pile of bones and stuff that turns out to be someone who had been ripped literally to pieces. A few serviceable pieces of gear are left, which Torinn and Iggy report are magical. Vann-La lays claim to the bastard sword- “I had been planning to change weapons before long anyway,” she says- while the elven boots go, ironically, to the dwarven Cook.
Further searching turns up no additional exits or secret doors. Only the gruesome trap door remains.
“All right,” sighs Ligir, “let’s get this over with.”
The party returns to the pit area and scrapes through the muck to reveal the trap door until Vann-La can get a grip on the metal ring set into the surface. With a grunt, she pulls it open with a squelching sound.
A brass ladder descends beneath the trap door. Vann-La peers downward, then draws her sword. “Worg,” she whispers.
And then she leaps down the hole.
Next Time: Deeper into Morl’s Retreat!