Zaruthustran
The tingling means it’s working!
I liked the bit about Mandi losing a Grapple check to a rabbit.
Har har!
-z
Har har!
-z
JollyDoc's Savage Tide-Updated 10/8!
Neverwinter Knight
First Post
Ah, natural 20, my favorite 5%. 
Can't wait for the update to see if I can recognize specific elements with gfunk's influence ![:]](http://www.enworld.org/forum/images/smilies/devious.png "Devious :]")
Can't wait for the update to see if I can recognize specific elements with gfunk's influence 
JollyDoc
Explorer
TIDES OF DREAD, PART TWO: HELL HATH NO FURY
With the docks temporarily secured, the Legion made their way through the town back towards Lavinia’s mansion. The fighting still raged about them, but as they neared the center of the village they came upon a group of phanatons, Mazticans and pirates who had stopped their melee and were all staring open-mouthed up at the sky. Following the gaze of the combatants, Mandi could see what drew their rapt attention. Three creatures circled in the air, high above. As she watched, a fourth one simply appeared out of nowhere. Her sharp eyes were able to pick out the details of the winged beings. They seemed vaguely humanoid, but they were large, taller even than Sepoto. Their heads were vulture-like, and their talons and feet were distinctly avian in appearance. The elven wizard had spent many years in her studies, and she knew demons when she saw them. The creatures were vrocks, shock-troopers of the Abyss. They were vicious fighters, resistant to magic in general, and elemental magic in particular. There was something else, something that nagged at the back of her mind yet she couldn’t put her finger on. Abruptly, three of the demons joined hands in mid-air, and began wheeling and whirling, almost like they were…dancing!
“We have to stop them!” she cried. “Now!”
“Why?” Sepoto demanded, tearing his eyes away from the spectacle above.
“Because if we don’t,” the wizard replied, “they’re going to kill everyone within two-hundred feet of here.”
“Marius,” Sepoto said, turning to the warmage, “you heard the lady. Stop them.”
The gnome merely nodded. He really didn’t need a reason to mete out destruction, but the chance to avert mass homicide seemed like as good an excuse as any. As he prepared to cast his spell, he saw the fourth demon suddenly shimmer, and then seven duplicates of it appeared, spinning and twirling about it. At first he feared this was another group of dancers, but then he recognized the spell. The fiend had merely created illusory images as a distraction. Annoying, but not insurmountable. Marius completed his incantation and let fly with his attack. The fireball streaked right into the midst of the trio of dancing demons before it detonated. When the flames cleared, however, the circle was still intact. Two of the demons looked singed, but the other was completely unscathed.
Samson and Sepoto each quickly quaffed elixirs which would allow them to fly up and engage their opponents, but Mandi was quicker on the draw. Focusing on the dancing demon which she gauged to have been most injured by Marius’ blast, she hurled first a sonic lance at it, and then followed with a glowing orb of pure force. Exerting such magical effort in rapid succession, however, left her weak and dazed. She feebly gestured for the two warriors to be on their way. As they gathered themselves to launch, though, the fourth vrock, its multiple images a blurry confusion of motion, suddenly folded its wings and dove towards the mortals gathered below. It sensed their intent to disrupt its brethren’s ritual, and it had no intention of allowing them to do so. It pulled up abruptly, some twenty feet over the heads of the Legionnaires, and opened its hooked beak, an ear-splitting screech filling the air. So deafening was it, that it left Sepoto and Mandi, along with dozens of Mazticans and phanatons, stunned and addled, unable to think clearly, much less act.
Marius barely noticed the chaos around him. His only thought was of Mandi’s warning. The demonic mummers had to be stopped. Seeing the effect the elf’s force magic had, the warmage conjured his own glowing orb, and hurled it at the wounded vrock. As the orb impacted, the demon shrieked, losing its grip on the hands of its brothers and spiraling limply towards the ground. Its fellow dancers shrieked as well, but in anger, not pain. Instantly, both of them conjured mirror images of themselves and then plummeted towards the heroes.
Samson could see that Sepoto wouldn’t be able to assist him, but the dragon shaman never hesitated. Leaping into the air, he soared towards the demon whose scream had temporarily neutralized his companions. As he flew, he gathered his breath, and unleashed it upon the vrock. To his dismay, the acid seemed to simply roll off the creature’s feathered body like water off a duck’s back. The demon cackled mockingly, and then dove to meet him, wrapping its taloned arms about him in a bear-hug. Samson felt himself being crushed against its stinking body, and then there was only pain. The air around him and the fiend exploded in a black cloud of spores. They embedded themselves in his skin, burrowing beneath the surface. No sooner had they done so, than thorn-like sprouts began to exude themselves from his epidermis. The agony was excruciating. He could not break free.
Marius could not draw a bead on the demon grappling Samson. Its dancing, swirling images were too confusing. Fortunately, the warmage did actually learn something about tactics during his brief time at the academy. Casting his hand in a wide arc, he launched a salvo of arcane missiles at the vrock. As the mystic projectiles passed through the images, the illusions winked out of existence. Two of them actually struck the vrock itself by blind luck. Still, several images remained, but then a second volley of missiles appeared, rending the remaining figments out of the air. Marius turned and saw Mandi smiling coldly.
“Dueling 101,” the elf said. Marius nodded, a satisfied smirk on his face. It was wiped clean a moment later, however, when one of the diving demons slammed into him, bowling him over before wrapping him tightly in its arms. Then he too knew Samson’s pain, as the abyssal spores plunged into his body.
Savage the demons might be, Mandi thought, but they were certainly not stupid. They were deliberately targeting spellcasters. The remaining one was at the moment headed right for her. Thinking quickly, she spoke a few words, transforming herself into an exact duplicate of the vrock that was charging her. Obviously taken aback, the creature slashed at her, but the wizard stepped deftly away. Not quickly enough, however, as another cloud of spores filled the air.
Sepoto felt about as useful as teats on a bull, so when he saw Samson’s opponent no longer had its illusions to protect it, the crusader streaked into the air towards it. At that moment, however, a new batch of illusions appeared around the fiend, and it snapped its wings tightly about its body, dropping like a stone to the ground. As it fell, it maneuvered Samson beneath it to take the brunt of the blow, ramming the dragon shaman into the ground like a pile driver.
Marius struggled in vain to free himself from his opponent. With his arms pinned as they were, he could not make the mystic gestures needed to cast his spells. He was helpless.
“Just hold still for a moment,” a voice whispered from nearby. It was Daelric. The priest was still invisible. Marius felt a hand touch his arm, and in that moment, he was free, wriggling loose from the demon’s grip as if he were a greased pig. Quickly, he dove clear of the fiend, but not before one of its filthy talons raked down his leg. Rolling to his feet, he cast another barrage of magic missiles, destroying several of its cloaking images. The vrock hissed, but it was not looking at Marius. Instead, its gaze was fixed on the spot where Daelric’s voice had come from. Reaching out, it grabbed at the space, and then pulled its arms back towards it, something obviously caught in its grip. It had Daelric.
Sepoto dove for the ground. He knew that Samson would be dead before he was able to peel away the mirages surrounding the demon, so he did the only thing he could think of. He closed his eyes and struck, trusting to Savras to guide his blow. Still, he was a bit surprised when he felt his weapon bite living flesh and heard the vrock scream. Opening his eyes, he cursed as he saw the bleeding fiend flapping away from him, carrying Samson with it.
Another flurry of mystic bolts flew from Marius’ hand, stripping away the last of the mirages surrounding the vrock which clutched and ripped at the still-invisible Daelric. The demon paid the wizard no heed, too caught up in its blood lust to be attentive to its surroundings. Thus it was totally unprepared when its beaked head was suddenly jerked back and it found itself staring upside down at a snarling goliath. The last thing it saw was a chain-wrapped fist hammering down towards its face.
The vrock circled Mandi warily, still obviously puzzled at the sudden appearance of another of its kind. Mandi seized the opportunity to weave a quick spell, trying the same tactic she had taken with the yuan-ti. This time, however, no defenseless rabbit appeared in the demon’s place. Instead, the fiend lunged for her. She backpedaled as quickly as she could, but the vrock still managed to score a deep gouge across her abdomen with its razor-like claws. Quickly, the wizard retreated back towards her companions, but the demon was steps behind her. Suddenly, it veered around her, overtaking and passing her, making a bee-line towards an unsuspecting Marius.
“Marius!” Mandi screamed.
The warmage turned just as the charging vrock reached him, slashing at his shoulder. To his credit, Marius avoided the worst of the blow, stepping beyond the creature’s reach and retaliating with a triad of scorching rays of fire. One of the beams merely destroyed an illusory image, but the other two were direct hits. Hissing, the fiend leaped at him, slicing through his armor as if it were paper, leaving stinging tears in the flesh beneath. At the same time, it released a cloud of black spores, peppering the approaching form of Sepoto with the tiny barbs.
Daelric was loose, invisible, and only mildly wounded from his ordeal. Moving cautiously among the combatants, he quickly laid his hands upon the freely bleeding Marius, murmuring a powerful healing prayer. No sooner had he worked his magic, however, than the vrock demon struck again, opening a series of new rents in the warmage’s bruised and battered body. By this time Sepoto had reached the demon, and closing his eyes to block out the confusing swirl of figments surrounding it, he lashed out blindly, hammering his chain into the vrock’s spine. At the same time, Marius, still standing by some miracle, flung his magic missiles again, struggling to remove the cursed fiend’s defenses. Spinning quicker than the eye could follow, the demon back-handed the little gnome, sending him reeling. Marius staggered, and fell to one knee, his head spinning and disoriented.
Samson was carried under the demon’s arm like a sack of grain until they were several dozen yards from the others. The vrock then hurled him to the ground, and kicked him with a sharp blow to the ribs. The creature still had its concealing veil of images, and the dragon shaman could not decide which one to strike. So, unwittingly imitating Sepoto’s tactics, he closed his eyes and swung, surprised when he actually felt his morningstar connect with solid flesh and bone. The demon shrieked and kicked him again. This time, Samson rolled with the blow, letting it carry him several feet away where he leaped upright and disgorged his caustic breath. Again, the acid seemed to have little effect, but it distracted the vrock long enough for the goblin to dart past it and back towards his companions.
Once more Daelric applied his healing magics to Marius, and the warmage rose, bloodied but unbowed. The vrock came for him again, but before it could reach him, it stiffened, then fell face first to the ground. Behind it, blood-stained morningstar in his hand, stood Samson. As quickly as his relief came, however, it vanished again when Marius saw the last demon suddenly pop out of thin air above him. The mage stumbled back, but as he did the fiend caught his ankle in one claw, pulling his feet from under him. In desperation, Marius threw a hastily worded spell, trying to summon up an image of the vrock’s greatest fear, hoping the sight of it would cause the beast to die of fear. For a moment, he thought his plan had worked, as the demon’s eyes went wide, and it spoke the word “Master,” in its abyssal tongue. But the terror vanished a moment later, and the vrock speared the prone gnome with a look of pure hatred. Suddenly, Marius felt himself jerked, not physically, but magically. One moment he was staring up at the enraged demon, and the next he was several yards away while Samson stood in his place. It was Mandi. She had switched the two with an expertly timed spell. Sepoto closed on the demon from the rear, and it turned this way and that, trapped between its opponents. They both raised their weapons to strike, but before they could, the fiend vanished, its appointed time on the Material Plane at an end.
_____________________________________________________________
“The reports are coming in,” Lavinia said, looking exhausted as she paced the courtyard of her home. “The Kraken forces are in retreat, but they’re determined to make a fight of it.”
“How many casualties have we suffered?” Sepoto asked.
“I’m not certain,” the noble replied, “but rest assured the number would have been far greater if not for you.”
Sepoto nodded, “Just fulfilling our promise,” he said. Had he looked at Mandi at that moment, however, he would have seen a glint of something else in her eyes…bitterness?
At that moment, a runner came dashing through the front gate, huffing and smiling.
“My lady!” he said. “The pirates are at the wharf! We’ve almost managed to push them back into the sea!”
“Then it’s over,” Lavinia said, bowing her head. “Victory is ours.”
“Not quite, dear sister!” came a hollow voice from the rear of the courtyard. “There’s still the matter of what you owe me!”
Lavinia turned, horrified, her face going pale as she recognized the voice’s owner. A figure stood atop the garden wall, backlit by the sunset. His face was vaguely human, but the pointed ears, small horns and red eyes spoke of a far more sinister heritage. Bat-like wings protruded from his back, while a tail like that of a scorpion, complete with a wickedly barbed stinger, arched over his head. He wore fine, mithral armor, and carried a longsword in one hand, and a blood-stained sickle in the other. When he smiled, his tapered fangs flashed evilly.
“Vanthus?” Lavinia breathed, her voice barely a whisper.
“The same,” Vanthus Vanderboren laughed. “And while it is true that you have apparently won the day, I will still claim what is mine. Come with me now, Lavinia, or upon my retreat I will flay the skin from as many of your townsmen as I can catch. The price of your victory will be terribly high.”
“You filth!” Lavinia cursed, regaining her composure. “You are no brother of mine! As far as I’m concerned, Vanthus Vanderboren died the same night my parents did! You are nothing but a mockery that wears his skin like some monstrous parasite!”
“I see,” Vanthus replied, his eyes narrowing and his voice lowering dangerously, “Nevertheless, you are coming with me, sister, one way or the other!”
“Not if we have anything to say about it!” Samson shouted, darting to the base of the wall where Vanthus stood and disgorging a gout of acid at the pirate captain. Moving with a grace the belied his demonic form, Vanthus dove lithely to one side, evading the blast completely and then rolling nimbly back to his feet.
“It’s a pity I didn’t kill you all back on Parrot Island,” he said, “but my sense of gamesmanship provoked me into at least giving you a chance. I will correct my mistake this day!”
The fiendish pirate then rose into the air, carried aloft on his great wings. When he spoke again, his voice boomed across the yard, “Leave! All of you! Your fellows are in danger, and I mean my sister no harm! I only seek her forgiveness!”
“It’s a trick, Lavinia,” Mandi whispered to the noblewoman. The elf mage’s form had shifted to a tall dwarf-like creature which appeared to be made entirely of stone. “Your brother has been transformed into a Lemorian, a type of half-demon bred in the pits of Demogorgon’s realm. As such, he is capable of minor magics like he just attempted. If that’s his best shot, we have nothing to fear. Nonetheless, stay behind me.”
Samson and Sepoto quaffed elixirs of flight for the second time that day as Vanthus rose higher into the air. In unison they leaped into the sky, each coming to a halt on opposite sides of the demonic pirate. Sepoto struck first, his weapon biting deeply into Vanthus’ black-scaled flesh. Samson scored a blow as well, though not so telling as the goliath’s. Snarling, Vanthus drove his blade deep into the goblin’s side. The wound was burning agony, and Samson saw that the sword dripped black ichor as well as blood when Vanthus withdrew it. Poison. Laughing, the half-fiend dove between the two warriors, dodging their blows easily. He plummeted towards the lone figure directly below him…Marius.
“Not again,” the warmage moaned, fumbling a flask from his belt and upending it. He promptly vanished from view. Growling, Vanthus pulled up short. At that moment, a glowing ball of magic struck him from the side. Howling, he turned in that direction…and saw the Dwarven Ancestor that Mandi had become standing protectively before Lavinia. With an incoherent howl, Vanthus sped towards them, Samson and Sepoto right behind him. At that moment, Marius reappeared as a hail of fist-sized rocks appeared above the pirate, hammering him to the ground. Vanthus quickly climbed to his knees, but before he could rise further, Sepoto was on him, and Vanthus gasped his last as the tip of the goliath’s chain exploded from his chest.
___________________________________________________________
In the end, the battle was a solid victory on the part of the forces of Farshore. The Kraken Society pirates were defeated with only moderate damage to the town and, amazingly, only four casualties among the townsfolk. Three of the pirate ships were captured intact, including Vanthus’ own ship, the Brine Harlot.
In the days following the battle, Farshore was filled with celebration, marred only by funerals for the fallen. Both the Legion and the Jade Ravens were lauded as heroes, and deservedly so. Throughout all of it, Lavinia put on a brave face. Vanthus was buried in the town cemetery in a lonely plot marked only by a simple wooden stake carved with the Vanderboren family crest, Lavinia’s sole concession to any remaining shred of humanity that might have lingered in her brother’s corrupted soul. To herself she kept the secret of the odd, black pearl she found on Vanthus’ body, and the troubling documents taken from aboard the Brine Harlot.
Some semblance of normalcy returned to the town over the next few weeks, with the Mazticans and the phanatons taking their leave to return to their villages. Amella Venkalie outfitted the Blue Nixie for another long voyage, and with few words of goodbye, set sail for Tashluta, promising to return within six months time with more supplies and personnel. With luck, the trade routes dreamt of by Lavinia’s parents would finally be made reality. The future seemed to hold nothing but promise.
____________________________________________________________
EPILOGUE:
“Come in! Come in! I’ve been expecting you!” Jeran Emrikad, the keeper of the Hall of Records, beckoned Mandi and Marius into his office.
“Your summons sounded urgent,” Mandi said, lowering herself into a comfortable chair.
“And so it was,” Jeran answered, all but bouncing with excitement. “As you know, as a fellow Seeker, I am always interested in some new mystery to be solved, or some new frontier to be explored. Well, it just so happens that I have stumbled upon both! You and your comrades have settled in nicely here, but it is obvious to me that village life does not sit easy with you. Correct me if I’m wrong, but it seems to me that the traveler’s itch is constantly upon you.”
“I’m not certain I agree with you at all,” Mandi said coolly. “I’ve been enjoying the time that I have to pursue my research. Still, you have intrigued me with your…enthusiasm. Go on with your tale.”
Jeran nodded, a knowing smile on his lips. “There is a legend,” he began, “but like all legends, it has within it the seeds of truth. This particular legend involves an ancient temple which reportedly disappeared from all maps hundreds of years ago. It was known as the Temple of the Celestial Winds, and it was the sanctuary of a mysterious group of sohei, or monastics, known as the Shensite sect. This temple was located high on a mountain peak, in the distant land of Kara-Tur. There the Shensites devoted themselves to the worship of powerful, divine nature spirits which they called obah. Unfortunately for the Shensites, though they were a peaceful sect, the neighbors of Kara-Tur were not. You have heard of the Tuigan Horde?”
The two mages nodded.
“The kha-khan of the Horde at that time was named Ogobanuk, and his greatest war leader was Ataman Histchok. It was by pure accident that Histchok and his men stumbled upon the Temple of the Celestial Winds, but when they did they did not hesitate to slaughter all of the sohei. As they were torturing the Grand Mystic however, or so the legend goes, the dying man uttered a curse that made the conquest of the raiders their prison. The wrath of the obahs separated the temple from the land and time itself. In order to remind the Tuigan of what they’d lost, the obahs would periodically allow the temple to reappear, usually at the height of a mighty storm. While the storm raged, the barbarians could ride free once more, but when it broke again, they would once more become imprisoned. Now, you may be wondering what all of this has to do with this particular island.”
The two mages nodded again, a bit impatiently this time.
“There is a hidden temple located on the Isle of Dread as well,” Jeran continued. “It is called the Lost Citadel, and it is thought to be the last bastion of the Maztican “gods” that survived the destruction of their ancient empire. The Mazticans believe their gods sleep there, awaiting the day the isle reverts to a paradise, and they can rejoin their people again. I believe something altogether different. I believe that the random wanderings of the Temple of Celestial Winds are not random at all, and can in fact be predicted to some extent. I also believe that the temple has appeared on this very island before, giving rise to the legend of the Lost Citadel…and if my calculations are correct, with the coming of the monsoon season, the temple will appear again…within the month, in fact.”
Marius and Mandi stared at the man for several moments. “And…?” Mandi asked at length. “How does this concern us?”
“Don’t you see?” Jeran asked incredulously. “This temple would be a treasure-trove of knowledge! Think of the value this discovery could be to the Seekers!”
“We are the only three Seekers here,” Marius pointed out.
“Yes, but if the Blue Nixie does indeed succeed in her mission, we shall once again have contact with our brethren on the mainland. I would dare say they would pay handsomely for what that temple might offer.”
“Go on….” Mandi encouraged.
With the docks temporarily secured, the Legion made their way through the town back towards Lavinia’s mansion. The fighting still raged about them, but as they neared the center of the village they came upon a group of phanatons, Mazticans and pirates who had stopped their melee and were all staring open-mouthed up at the sky. Following the gaze of the combatants, Mandi could see what drew their rapt attention. Three creatures circled in the air, high above. As she watched, a fourth one simply appeared out of nowhere. Her sharp eyes were able to pick out the details of the winged beings. They seemed vaguely humanoid, but they were large, taller even than Sepoto. Their heads were vulture-like, and their talons and feet were distinctly avian in appearance. The elven wizard had spent many years in her studies, and she knew demons when she saw them. The creatures were vrocks, shock-troopers of the Abyss. They were vicious fighters, resistant to magic in general, and elemental magic in particular. There was something else, something that nagged at the back of her mind yet she couldn’t put her finger on. Abruptly, three of the demons joined hands in mid-air, and began wheeling and whirling, almost like they were…dancing!
“We have to stop them!” she cried. “Now!”
“Why?” Sepoto demanded, tearing his eyes away from the spectacle above.
“Because if we don’t,” the wizard replied, “they’re going to kill everyone within two-hundred feet of here.”
“Marius,” Sepoto said, turning to the warmage, “you heard the lady. Stop them.”
The gnome merely nodded. He really didn’t need a reason to mete out destruction, but the chance to avert mass homicide seemed like as good an excuse as any. As he prepared to cast his spell, he saw the fourth demon suddenly shimmer, and then seven duplicates of it appeared, spinning and twirling about it. At first he feared this was another group of dancers, but then he recognized the spell. The fiend had merely created illusory images as a distraction. Annoying, but not insurmountable. Marius completed his incantation and let fly with his attack. The fireball streaked right into the midst of the trio of dancing demons before it detonated. When the flames cleared, however, the circle was still intact. Two of the demons looked singed, but the other was completely unscathed.
Samson and Sepoto each quickly quaffed elixirs which would allow them to fly up and engage their opponents, but Mandi was quicker on the draw. Focusing on the dancing demon which she gauged to have been most injured by Marius’ blast, she hurled first a sonic lance at it, and then followed with a glowing orb of pure force. Exerting such magical effort in rapid succession, however, left her weak and dazed. She feebly gestured for the two warriors to be on their way. As they gathered themselves to launch, though, the fourth vrock, its multiple images a blurry confusion of motion, suddenly folded its wings and dove towards the mortals gathered below. It sensed their intent to disrupt its brethren’s ritual, and it had no intention of allowing them to do so. It pulled up abruptly, some twenty feet over the heads of the Legionnaires, and opened its hooked beak, an ear-splitting screech filling the air. So deafening was it, that it left Sepoto and Mandi, along with dozens of Mazticans and phanatons, stunned and addled, unable to think clearly, much less act.
Marius barely noticed the chaos around him. His only thought was of Mandi’s warning. The demonic mummers had to be stopped. Seeing the effect the elf’s force magic had, the warmage conjured his own glowing orb, and hurled it at the wounded vrock. As the orb impacted, the demon shrieked, losing its grip on the hands of its brothers and spiraling limply towards the ground. Its fellow dancers shrieked as well, but in anger, not pain. Instantly, both of them conjured mirror images of themselves and then plummeted towards the heroes.
Samson could see that Sepoto wouldn’t be able to assist him, but the dragon shaman never hesitated. Leaping into the air, he soared towards the demon whose scream had temporarily neutralized his companions. As he flew, he gathered his breath, and unleashed it upon the vrock. To his dismay, the acid seemed to simply roll off the creature’s feathered body like water off a duck’s back. The demon cackled mockingly, and then dove to meet him, wrapping its taloned arms about him in a bear-hug. Samson felt himself being crushed against its stinking body, and then there was only pain. The air around him and the fiend exploded in a black cloud of spores. They embedded themselves in his skin, burrowing beneath the surface. No sooner had they done so, than thorn-like sprouts began to exude themselves from his epidermis. The agony was excruciating. He could not break free.
Marius could not draw a bead on the demon grappling Samson. Its dancing, swirling images were too confusing. Fortunately, the warmage did actually learn something about tactics during his brief time at the academy. Casting his hand in a wide arc, he launched a salvo of arcane missiles at the vrock. As the mystic projectiles passed through the images, the illusions winked out of existence. Two of them actually struck the vrock itself by blind luck. Still, several images remained, but then a second volley of missiles appeared, rending the remaining figments out of the air. Marius turned and saw Mandi smiling coldly.
“Dueling 101,” the elf said. Marius nodded, a satisfied smirk on his face. It was wiped clean a moment later, however, when one of the diving demons slammed into him, bowling him over before wrapping him tightly in its arms. Then he too knew Samson’s pain, as the abyssal spores plunged into his body.
Savage the demons might be, Mandi thought, but they were certainly not stupid. They were deliberately targeting spellcasters. The remaining one was at the moment headed right for her. Thinking quickly, she spoke a few words, transforming herself into an exact duplicate of the vrock that was charging her. Obviously taken aback, the creature slashed at her, but the wizard stepped deftly away. Not quickly enough, however, as another cloud of spores filled the air.
Sepoto felt about as useful as teats on a bull, so when he saw Samson’s opponent no longer had its illusions to protect it, the crusader streaked into the air towards it. At that moment, however, a new batch of illusions appeared around the fiend, and it snapped its wings tightly about its body, dropping like a stone to the ground. As it fell, it maneuvered Samson beneath it to take the brunt of the blow, ramming the dragon shaman into the ground like a pile driver.
Marius struggled in vain to free himself from his opponent. With his arms pinned as they were, he could not make the mystic gestures needed to cast his spells. He was helpless.
“Just hold still for a moment,” a voice whispered from nearby. It was Daelric. The priest was still invisible. Marius felt a hand touch his arm, and in that moment, he was free, wriggling loose from the demon’s grip as if he were a greased pig. Quickly, he dove clear of the fiend, but not before one of its filthy talons raked down his leg. Rolling to his feet, he cast another barrage of magic missiles, destroying several of its cloaking images. The vrock hissed, but it was not looking at Marius. Instead, its gaze was fixed on the spot where Daelric’s voice had come from. Reaching out, it grabbed at the space, and then pulled its arms back towards it, something obviously caught in its grip. It had Daelric.
Sepoto dove for the ground. He knew that Samson would be dead before he was able to peel away the mirages surrounding the demon, so he did the only thing he could think of. He closed his eyes and struck, trusting to Savras to guide his blow. Still, he was a bit surprised when he felt his weapon bite living flesh and heard the vrock scream. Opening his eyes, he cursed as he saw the bleeding fiend flapping away from him, carrying Samson with it.
Another flurry of mystic bolts flew from Marius’ hand, stripping away the last of the mirages surrounding the vrock which clutched and ripped at the still-invisible Daelric. The demon paid the wizard no heed, too caught up in its blood lust to be attentive to its surroundings. Thus it was totally unprepared when its beaked head was suddenly jerked back and it found itself staring upside down at a snarling goliath. The last thing it saw was a chain-wrapped fist hammering down towards its face.
The vrock circled Mandi warily, still obviously puzzled at the sudden appearance of another of its kind. Mandi seized the opportunity to weave a quick spell, trying the same tactic she had taken with the yuan-ti. This time, however, no defenseless rabbit appeared in the demon’s place. Instead, the fiend lunged for her. She backpedaled as quickly as she could, but the vrock still managed to score a deep gouge across her abdomen with its razor-like claws. Quickly, the wizard retreated back towards her companions, but the demon was steps behind her. Suddenly, it veered around her, overtaking and passing her, making a bee-line towards an unsuspecting Marius.
“Marius!” Mandi screamed.
The warmage turned just as the charging vrock reached him, slashing at his shoulder. To his credit, Marius avoided the worst of the blow, stepping beyond the creature’s reach and retaliating with a triad of scorching rays of fire. One of the beams merely destroyed an illusory image, but the other two were direct hits. Hissing, the fiend leaped at him, slicing through his armor as if it were paper, leaving stinging tears in the flesh beneath. At the same time, it released a cloud of black spores, peppering the approaching form of Sepoto with the tiny barbs.
Daelric was loose, invisible, and only mildly wounded from his ordeal. Moving cautiously among the combatants, he quickly laid his hands upon the freely bleeding Marius, murmuring a powerful healing prayer. No sooner had he worked his magic, however, than the vrock demon struck again, opening a series of new rents in the warmage’s bruised and battered body. By this time Sepoto had reached the demon, and closing his eyes to block out the confusing swirl of figments surrounding it, he lashed out blindly, hammering his chain into the vrock’s spine. At the same time, Marius, still standing by some miracle, flung his magic missiles again, struggling to remove the cursed fiend’s defenses. Spinning quicker than the eye could follow, the demon back-handed the little gnome, sending him reeling. Marius staggered, and fell to one knee, his head spinning and disoriented.
Samson was carried under the demon’s arm like a sack of grain until they were several dozen yards from the others. The vrock then hurled him to the ground, and kicked him with a sharp blow to the ribs. The creature still had its concealing veil of images, and the dragon shaman could not decide which one to strike. So, unwittingly imitating Sepoto’s tactics, he closed his eyes and swung, surprised when he actually felt his morningstar connect with solid flesh and bone. The demon shrieked and kicked him again. This time, Samson rolled with the blow, letting it carry him several feet away where he leaped upright and disgorged his caustic breath. Again, the acid seemed to have little effect, but it distracted the vrock long enough for the goblin to dart past it and back towards his companions.
Once more Daelric applied his healing magics to Marius, and the warmage rose, bloodied but unbowed. The vrock came for him again, but before it could reach him, it stiffened, then fell face first to the ground. Behind it, blood-stained morningstar in his hand, stood Samson. As quickly as his relief came, however, it vanished again when Marius saw the last demon suddenly pop out of thin air above him. The mage stumbled back, but as he did the fiend caught his ankle in one claw, pulling his feet from under him. In desperation, Marius threw a hastily worded spell, trying to summon up an image of the vrock’s greatest fear, hoping the sight of it would cause the beast to die of fear. For a moment, he thought his plan had worked, as the demon’s eyes went wide, and it spoke the word “Master,” in its abyssal tongue. But the terror vanished a moment later, and the vrock speared the prone gnome with a look of pure hatred. Suddenly, Marius felt himself jerked, not physically, but magically. One moment he was staring up at the enraged demon, and the next he was several yards away while Samson stood in his place. It was Mandi. She had switched the two with an expertly timed spell. Sepoto closed on the demon from the rear, and it turned this way and that, trapped between its opponents. They both raised their weapons to strike, but before they could, the fiend vanished, its appointed time on the Material Plane at an end.
_____________________________________________________________
“The reports are coming in,” Lavinia said, looking exhausted as she paced the courtyard of her home. “The Kraken forces are in retreat, but they’re determined to make a fight of it.”
“How many casualties have we suffered?” Sepoto asked.
“I’m not certain,” the noble replied, “but rest assured the number would have been far greater if not for you.”
Sepoto nodded, “Just fulfilling our promise,” he said. Had he looked at Mandi at that moment, however, he would have seen a glint of something else in her eyes…bitterness?
At that moment, a runner came dashing through the front gate, huffing and smiling.
“My lady!” he said. “The pirates are at the wharf! We’ve almost managed to push them back into the sea!”
“Then it’s over,” Lavinia said, bowing her head. “Victory is ours.”
“Not quite, dear sister!” came a hollow voice from the rear of the courtyard. “There’s still the matter of what you owe me!”
Lavinia turned, horrified, her face going pale as she recognized the voice’s owner. A figure stood atop the garden wall, backlit by the sunset. His face was vaguely human, but the pointed ears, small horns and red eyes spoke of a far more sinister heritage. Bat-like wings protruded from his back, while a tail like that of a scorpion, complete with a wickedly barbed stinger, arched over his head. He wore fine, mithral armor, and carried a longsword in one hand, and a blood-stained sickle in the other. When he smiled, his tapered fangs flashed evilly.
“Vanthus?” Lavinia breathed, her voice barely a whisper.
“The same,” Vanthus Vanderboren laughed. “And while it is true that you have apparently won the day, I will still claim what is mine. Come with me now, Lavinia, or upon my retreat I will flay the skin from as many of your townsmen as I can catch. The price of your victory will be terribly high.”
“You filth!” Lavinia cursed, regaining her composure. “You are no brother of mine! As far as I’m concerned, Vanthus Vanderboren died the same night my parents did! You are nothing but a mockery that wears his skin like some monstrous parasite!”
“I see,” Vanthus replied, his eyes narrowing and his voice lowering dangerously, “Nevertheless, you are coming with me, sister, one way or the other!”
“Not if we have anything to say about it!” Samson shouted, darting to the base of the wall where Vanthus stood and disgorging a gout of acid at the pirate captain. Moving with a grace the belied his demonic form, Vanthus dove lithely to one side, evading the blast completely and then rolling nimbly back to his feet.
“It’s a pity I didn’t kill you all back on Parrot Island,” he said, “but my sense of gamesmanship provoked me into at least giving you a chance. I will correct my mistake this day!”
The fiendish pirate then rose into the air, carried aloft on his great wings. When he spoke again, his voice boomed across the yard, “Leave! All of you! Your fellows are in danger, and I mean my sister no harm! I only seek her forgiveness!”
“It’s a trick, Lavinia,” Mandi whispered to the noblewoman. The elf mage’s form had shifted to a tall dwarf-like creature which appeared to be made entirely of stone. “Your brother has been transformed into a Lemorian, a type of half-demon bred in the pits of Demogorgon’s realm. As such, he is capable of minor magics like he just attempted. If that’s his best shot, we have nothing to fear. Nonetheless, stay behind me.”
Samson and Sepoto quaffed elixirs of flight for the second time that day as Vanthus rose higher into the air. In unison they leaped into the sky, each coming to a halt on opposite sides of the demonic pirate. Sepoto struck first, his weapon biting deeply into Vanthus’ black-scaled flesh. Samson scored a blow as well, though not so telling as the goliath’s. Snarling, Vanthus drove his blade deep into the goblin’s side. The wound was burning agony, and Samson saw that the sword dripped black ichor as well as blood when Vanthus withdrew it. Poison. Laughing, the half-fiend dove between the two warriors, dodging their blows easily. He plummeted towards the lone figure directly below him…Marius.
“Not again,” the warmage moaned, fumbling a flask from his belt and upending it. He promptly vanished from view. Growling, Vanthus pulled up short. At that moment, a glowing ball of magic struck him from the side. Howling, he turned in that direction…and saw the Dwarven Ancestor that Mandi had become standing protectively before Lavinia. With an incoherent howl, Vanthus sped towards them, Samson and Sepoto right behind him. At that moment, Marius reappeared as a hail of fist-sized rocks appeared above the pirate, hammering him to the ground. Vanthus quickly climbed to his knees, but before he could rise further, Sepoto was on him, and Vanthus gasped his last as the tip of the goliath’s chain exploded from his chest.
___________________________________________________________
In the end, the battle was a solid victory on the part of the forces of Farshore. The Kraken Society pirates were defeated with only moderate damage to the town and, amazingly, only four casualties among the townsfolk. Three of the pirate ships were captured intact, including Vanthus’ own ship, the Brine Harlot.
In the days following the battle, Farshore was filled with celebration, marred only by funerals for the fallen. Both the Legion and the Jade Ravens were lauded as heroes, and deservedly so. Throughout all of it, Lavinia put on a brave face. Vanthus was buried in the town cemetery in a lonely plot marked only by a simple wooden stake carved with the Vanderboren family crest, Lavinia’s sole concession to any remaining shred of humanity that might have lingered in her brother’s corrupted soul. To herself she kept the secret of the odd, black pearl she found on Vanthus’ body, and the troubling documents taken from aboard the Brine Harlot.
Some semblance of normalcy returned to the town over the next few weeks, with the Mazticans and the phanatons taking their leave to return to their villages. Amella Venkalie outfitted the Blue Nixie for another long voyage, and with few words of goodbye, set sail for Tashluta, promising to return within six months time with more supplies and personnel. With luck, the trade routes dreamt of by Lavinia’s parents would finally be made reality. The future seemed to hold nothing but promise.
____________________________________________________________
EPILOGUE:
“Come in! Come in! I’ve been expecting you!” Jeran Emrikad, the keeper of the Hall of Records, beckoned Mandi and Marius into his office.
“Your summons sounded urgent,” Mandi said, lowering herself into a comfortable chair.
“And so it was,” Jeran answered, all but bouncing with excitement. “As you know, as a fellow Seeker, I am always interested in some new mystery to be solved, or some new frontier to be explored. Well, it just so happens that I have stumbled upon both! You and your comrades have settled in nicely here, but it is obvious to me that village life does not sit easy with you. Correct me if I’m wrong, but it seems to me that the traveler’s itch is constantly upon you.”
“I’m not certain I agree with you at all,” Mandi said coolly. “I’ve been enjoying the time that I have to pursue my research. Still, you have intrigued me with your…enthusiasm. Go on with your tale.”
Jeran nodded, a knowing smile on his lips. “There is a legend,” he began, “but like all legends, it has within it the seeds of truth. This particular legend involves an ancient temple which reportedly disappeared from all maps hundreds of years ago. It was known as the Temple of the Celestial Winds, and it was the sanctuary of a mysterious group of sohei, or monastics, known as the Shensite sect. This temple was located high on a mountain peak, in the distant land of Kara-Tur. There the Shensites devoted themselves to the worship of powerful, divine nature spirits which they called obah. Unfortunately for the Shensites, though they were a peaceful sect, the neighbors of Kara-Tur were not. You have heard of the Tuigan Horde?”
The two mages nodded.
“The kha-khan of the Horde at that time was named Ogobanuk, and his greatest war leader was Ataman Histchok. It was by pure accident that Histchok and his men stumbled upon the Temple of the Celestial Winds, but when they did they did not hesitate to slaughter all of the sohei. As they were torturing the Grand Mystic however, or so the legend goes, the dying man uttered a curse that made the conquest of the raiders their prison. The wrath of the obahs separated the temple from the land and time itself. In order to remind the Tuigan of what they’d lost, the obahs would periodically allow the temple to reappear, usually at the height of a mighty storm. While the storm raged, the barbarians could ride free once more, but when it broke again, they would once more become imprisoned. Now, you may be wondering what all of this has to do with this particular island.”
The two mages nodded again, a bit impatiently this time.
“There is a hidden temple located on the Isle of Dread as well,” Jeran continued. “It is called the Lost Citadel, and it is thought to be the last bastion of the Maztican “gods” that survived the destruction of their ancient empire. The Mazticans believe their gods sleep there, awaiting the day the isle reverts to a paradise, and they can rejoin their people again. I believe something altogether different. I believe that the random wanderings of the Temple of Celestial Winds are not random at all, and can in fact be predicted to some extent. I also believe that the temple has appeared on this very island before, giving rise to the legend of the Lost Citadel…and if my calculations are correct, with the coming of the monsoon season, the temple will appear again…within the month, in fact.”
Marius and Mandi stared at the man for several moments. “And…?” Mandi asked at length. “How does this concern us?”
“Don’t you see?” Jeran asked incredulously. “This temple would be a treasure-trove of knowledge! Think of the value this discovery could be to the Seekers!”
“We are the only three Seekers here,” Marius pointed out.
“Yes, but if the Blue Nixie does indeed succeed in her mission, we shall once again have contact with our brethren on the mainland. I would dare say they would pay handsomely for what that temple might offer.”
“Go on….” Mandi encouraged.
demiurge1138
Inventor of Super-Toast
Ooh! Sidequest! Or replacement?
(Love that module, incidentally)
Demiurge out.
(Love that module, incidentally)
Demiurge out.
My suggestion that night on being a rat-bastard (tm) DM included the following:
1. One of the Vrocks uses telekinesis to wrench Sepoto's spiked chain out of his hand.
2. Second Vrock picks up weapon teleports over the ocean and dumps it into the depths.
We actually rolled it out hypothetically and it worked quite well.
Of course, we never actually did this in play. I have a far more antagonsitic stance (and some would say less healthy) than JD while DMing.
1. One of the Vrocks uses telekinesis to wrench Sepoto's spiked chain out of his hand.
2. Second Vrock picks up weapon teleports over the ocean and dumps it into the depths.
We actually rolled it out hypothetically and it worked quite well.
Of course, we never actually did this in play. I have a far more antagonsitic stance (and some would say less healthy) than JD while DMing.
