Story HourPost your ongoing tales from your campaigns, and read those from others for inspiration. Lots of other RPG boards post "Story Hours", but this is where it started!
Realms of Enlightenment: The Grey Companions (reborn)
Hello all and welcome to the new thread.
If you are new to this story hour then I'd suggest going back to read the earlier adventures in the thread entitled The Realms of Enlightenment: The Grey Companions. This picks up without preamble where that thread leaves off and won't make a whole lot of sense without knowledge of what went before.
Older write-ups (pre-board) are available for download as Word documents here, here, and here.
You can also find the early adventures as .pdfs, repackaged with introductions, and reader blurbs. These represent the most complete chronicle of the campaign.
A cold breeze was blowing wetly across his naked skin when he finally awoke. A dull roar filled his head, and weakness pulled at his limbs. At least he didn't feel so clumsy any more. When those damned dwarves had jumped him he'd-
He sat up quickly, blinking into the darkness.
What had happened to those dwarves? They needed a taste of his hammer!
He started again.
What had happened to his hammer? And the rest of his gear for that matter?
He patted himself down and found out two things immediately. First: he was naked. Second: his ankle was manacled to the stone surface on which he lay. He grabbed the chain with both hands and pulled.
It only took a few tries to yank the manacle free of the bolts that held it in place.
That done he peered around at the dark for some clue as to his locale.
He noticed two things immediately. First: the roar that he'd thought was in his head was actually coming from somewhere to his right. The sound of falling water, maybe? Second: the darkness that had seemed total, was actually only MOSTLY total.
He could see the clouds of vapor billowing from his mouth as he breathed in the frigid air of the place. And he could, with effort, tell that he was on a flat, stone platform in the midst of some enclosed space. He couldn't see the walls, or ceiling, but he'd grown up in a cave and he recognized the acoustics of a stone chamber when he heard them.
He rolled over and looked over the side of the platform and there was the ground, only about three feet away.
It was covered with snakes.
They weren't moving and at first he thought that they might be dead. But no sooner had that idea started to form in his mind than a dry rattling sound rose out of the darkness. It was echoed by another and another until the chamber nearly shook with the maddening sound of angry serpents.
Snakes! Noxin had encountered such before, up north, where it was warmer. He didn't fully understand it, but someone had explained to him that snakes liked to live in hot places - NEEDED to live in hot places, even.
It was not hot in this cave.
Slowly... a thought formed.
Maybe... these snakes weren't real.
Maybe... it was magic.
Magic snakes wouldn't need it to be hot.
Pleased with his own cleverness, Noxin sat down and worked at the cuff on his thick ankle. There wasn't a lot of give in the manacle, but he managed to get his fingers between his ankle and the metal with only the loss of a bit of skin. He worked at it for a minute or so, listening to the angry rattle filling the cave, and thinking that they sure sounded like real snakes. Finally the metal cuff sprang loose.
He hefted the chain experimentally. It was crude and awkward, but it would serve to test his 'magic snake' theory. He once more peered over the side of the slab and saw the snakes. They were moving now, though not with any real purpose. He raised the chain in two hands and swung it downward, overhand, like a flail. It drew a spark from the floor when it hit, but he also felt the slight give in the chain that indicated a solid impact with something softer than stone too.
Something... like a snake!
Noxin looked and saw, as he'd suspected, a single snake laying smooshed and unmoving amidst its fellows.
He scowled, disappointed that his clever idea had been proved wrong. But his introspection didn't last long; he was a man of action, not thought. His course decided in an eyeblink, he leapt from the stone slab, landing on the cold floor some distance away and bringing his foot down in a massive Stomp! Shockwaves emanated from the impact and ran through the floor.
Normally, when Noxin put his foot down it knocked people to the ground and shook them up a little. But snakes were already on the ground, so he wasn't sure what would happen to them. He didn't bother waiting to find out, either, but pressed ahead into the darkness with his hands outstretched.
He stumbled into and over another stone slab. He scrambled onto it, moving ahead in the dark and bonked his head against something wooden. He cursed and stood, pressing his hands against the wooden thing. It was a door, he discovered - one of those kind with the big iron bands holding the timbers together.
And it was locked.
He listened then, but could hear nothing but the stealthy rustle of snakes moving toward him in the darkness.
Noxin slammed his shoulder against the door and heard it crunch under the onslaught. He was surprised that it held, but he gave it another try and it slammed open, the lock holding it closed shooting off into the darkness beyond. There was a little more light here, he was happy to note. But there was not much of it and it had a strange flickering quality that made everything stutter and jump in a way that Noxin didn't care for.
He spared a glance behind him. The snakes were slowly converging on his location, but they seemed unable to climb the step up to the door, That was something, at least.
He was in a hallway, he saw at once. There was another door almost opposite the one in which he now stood. The light was coming from his left, however, and as he turned in that direction there was a brilliant flash and three shrill cries of pain.
Noxin looked and saw two of those dwarves he'd been jumped by earlier. They were clutching their huge, pale eyes and writhing in pain, probably blinded by that flash.
Good, he thought.
And then he noticed that the light was growing dimmer or moving farther away. Soon, when that light faded entirely, he reckoned that he'd be as blind as the dwarves.
Grinning like a madman, Noxin charged down the hallway, silent apart from the thud of his huge feet hitting the floor. The nearer of the two robed dwarves looked up, its face wide with shock and horror as 350 lbs of naked half-giant bore down on it. It brought up a shortsword that it held in one hand , but failed to do much more than show it to Noxin before his mighty hands closed around the dwarf's arms, swallowing each from elbow to armpit.
The dwarf let out a pathetic mewling sound that Noxin liked just fine.
There was another of the dwarves in a room off the hall, he could just see in the fast-fading light, but he was more immediately concerned with the nearer creature. It cast a spell, which normally would have earned it a boot to the head, but Noxin had his hands full at the moment, twisting the arms off its compatriot. The best he could do was to turn and keep the blade out of his face. He felt it draw a line of blood from his shoulder, but the wound was trivial, and it didn't keep him from completing his turn.
As he turned he hurled the dwarf in his arms into the one who'd stabbed him. Or at least that was the idea. What ended up happening was that he threw the dwarf at its fellow and it dodged out of the way. The flying dwarf went hurtling ten feet into the other room, landing in a heap.
The dwarf nearest him maneuvered itself to his flank and took a stab at him that really wasn't much of a stab at all. Noxin punched him in the gut, putting his weight behind it and knocking him back into the wall. He rebounded just in time to catch the half-giant's other fist in the face. The dwarf collapsed without a sound, bleeding profusely from its ruined nose.
The light was almost gone now, and Noxin could only barely discern the shapes of at least two of the dwarves coming at him from inside the room.
Noxin turned to face them, straining to see in the almost total dark. There was something weird about the nearer dwarf; it seemed to be covered in shadows and it held up a hand that was even more hazy and indistinct than the rest of it. Before the half-giant could note more, it reached out and its hand seemed to flow outward - entering his mouth and nose as he took a breath - filling his chest with burning.
He could taste woodsmoke and could do nothing to suppress the choking cough that wracked his body. He was gagging, the smoke taking the place of air in his lungs. His chest was on fire!
He reached out a hand, seizing the dwarf by the head and drawing it into his arms as easily as he would a child. "What did you do?" he tried to scream, but found he could do nothing save make choking sounds and expel smoke.
Well, that's not entirely true. He could also squeeze. And he did that, flexing his muscles around the dwarf and listening with grim satisfaction as it squeaked in pain.
He was totally blind now, unable to see even the creature he held locked in his thick arms. Not that it mattered at the moment; if he was going to die in this place in the dark, he was damned sure not going without company.
Noxin felt something tumble passed him through the open door and into the hall. He couldn't see it of course, but it didn't smell good, and past experience told him that anything that "tumbled" passed you wasn't something you wanted on your flank. He was proved right a moment later as he felt the cold steel of a blade slide against the inside of his thigh from behind. He managed to twist away with his sack only grazed, but the little bastard was clearly going for something vital.
He gagged in pain (and more than a little fear) and squeezed mightily, crushing the dwarf in his arms almost into paste. As he relaxed his arms and let the body fall to the ground, he felt a glimmer of hope as he expelled what felt like the last of the acrid smoke. He could taste cool air. It was tainted by the stench coming off the dwarf still attacking him but it was still sweet to him after the gagging smoke.
He heard the swish of steel passing within inches of his flesh and reckoned where the "invisible" dwarf was. He lashed out with his hands trying to blindly grab his attacker, but clutched only empty air.
A moment later he cried out in alarm as he felt several inches of sharp metal bury itself in his left butt cheek. As his attacker drew the blade out Noxin whirled and clutched blindly again. His right hand closed briefly on a bit of fabric, but it slipped through his fingers. His left, however, latched onto a limb (it felt like a leg) and squeezed. The dwarf turned into a writhing ball of fury in his hands, but he lifted it up off the ground and got a firm grip on it with his other hand.
"WHERE ARE MY THINGS?!!" he bellowed into what he hoped was the thing's face.
In response, the dwarf giggled and stabbed him in the armpit. The pain was intense, and blood began to flow down his torso at once.
"AAARRGGGHHH!!" Noxin roared. "DAMN YOU LITTLE BASTARD!!!"
He'd had enough and could feel the fury rising within him. He was beginning to feel hopeless here naked in the dark with this insane little monster stabbing him in every soft place that he had. In some men, that hopelessness would have led to fatalism, but Noxin wasn't other men. In him it brought an animal rage bubbling up from that part of his brain that was most concerned about survival.
Holding his arm snugly across the wriggling creature's midsection, he grabbed its arm with his other hand, slid his fist down it until he felt the pommel of its weapon against his flesh. Then he forced the blade down into the dwarf's torso. It resisted, of course, but its strength was no match for his. He sank the blade in as deep as he could, unmindful of the potential for stabbing himself if the sword went all the way through his tiny adversary. The dwarf squealed and Noxin repeated the action again for good measure.
It twisted its weapon arm away somehow, the blood flowing hotly down its body giving it some lubricant, and brought the blade up toward Noxin's face. He couldn't see it in the dark, but he could feel the flat of the sticky wet sword slide harmlessly across his cheek and part the hair on the side of his head.
The half-giant reached up and grabbed the wrist again, twisting it so savagely that bones splintered in the dwarf's arm as he turned the thing's weapon back on itself. It let out another cry of pain and Noxin cut it off by stabbing the sword into its torso again. He felt its body go slack in his arms.
He stabbed it again just to be sure.
He stood there in the dark, holding his breath, listening for the sound of approaching opponents, but heard nothing. So he let out the breath and with it went the rage, sliding out of him as easily as it entered, and leaving only fatigue in its wake. He dropped to his knees on the cold stone floor, dropped the dwarf in front of him and began patting it down for anything of use. It wore a buckler on its left arm, carried a light crossbow on a strap, and had a shortsword sticking out of its chest. All of the gear felt ridiculously small in Noxin's hands; he used a bigger blade when he ate dinner than the one the dwarf had carried.
Noxin touched the bleeding puncture beneath his left arm and begrudgingly admitted to himself that the sword might have some usefulness. He took it and used it to cut free the creature's belt pouch. There were coins within. Coins were always good...
He moved haltingly down the corridor back in the direction of the snake room where he'd woken up. He shuffled his feet and ran his hand along the left wall as he went, hunched forward, tip-tapping the stone floor in front of him with the dagger-sized shortsword.
After a time, he came upon a closed door. He listened, but heard nothing, so he pushed it open and almost gagged. The stench of filth and rot and sweat was thick within the chamber, but he heard no movement so he crept inside, feeling along the wall as he went. After only a few steps, his hand brushed against something familiar. He curled his fingers around it, recognizing it instantly: his hammer, propped against the wall like a common shovel or a broom.
He hefted the weapon and its enormous steel head flickered immediately with illusory flames, lighting up the chamber like a torch. Noxin had to momentarily shield his eyes from the welcome glow, but nonetheless he'd never before been so thankful to see light in his life. After he got finished grinning at his weapon, he held it out, playing its glow across the foul-smelling interior of the room.
It clearly served as some sort of communal living space for the dwarves. There was a filthy mound of furs heaped along one wall that seemed to serve as a bed. The far corner held a bucket for waste, and the walls around the bucket were streaked with fecal matter like the chaotic scrawls of a child's finger painting. Nearby squatted a low table, atop which were strewn the rotting remains of several large fish; Noxin could see the swarming maggots from where he stood. To the right of the door, lying in a heap was the rest of the half-giant's gear.
He fell on it like a hyena on carrion and in just a few minutes, he had kitted himself back up and quickly made sure that everything was in place. The dwarves had gone through everything, turning out his pack in an effort to find valuables... and then subsequently dumped everything in a disorganized pile.
He stepped back into the hall, looking both ways now that he had benefit of the light. The hall dead-ended to his left, The door to the snake room was across the hall and a bit farther along to his right. He had no strong desire to revisit that just now.
He could see the three bodies he'd left strewn in the hallway in front of another doorway, this one set into the same wall as the door to the dwarves' living quarters. The hallway had seemed much longer when he couldn't see anything and he closed the distance between himself and the bodies in three long strides. He'd already searched one, so he examined the other two, determining two things very quickly: beneath the rough robes they both wore they carried nothing of value, and both were female. One of them - he imagined it was the one who had almost choked him with smoke though he really couldn't be sure - had a bag slung across her torso. In the bag were loose coins carelessly mixed in with water-smoothed stones, yellowed and cracked bones, and bits of shed snakeskin. He picked out the coins and tossed the rest.
The room from which the dwarves had first issued was mostly empty. There was another body within, two other exits, and a lever set into the far corner. One of the doorways opened into a dark shaft that went downward well beyond the reach of his light. The lever set beside it was in the down position, but there was no indication what pulling it up might do.
The door in the other corner was tightly closed and offered no clues to what lay beyond.
Noxin pulled out his Goggles of Minute Seeing and strapped them on. Then, holding his hammer close to the lever for light, he started to examine the device. It seemed unremarkable: steel shaft, polished marble handle, set into a brass-plated slot in the wall. It was old, and the workmanship was very good, he could tell that much, but beyond that it was what it was: a mysterious lever in the side of a dungeon wall.
Muttering to himself, he stripped off the Goggles of Minute Seeing and held his hammer into the shaft. He peered downward, but the bubble of light from his hammer didn't project all that far, and he couldn't see anything but bare stone and darkness.
Noxin grumbled again and produced some spit and mucus from the back of his throat. He spat it down the shaft and then leaned over, his hand cupped around his ear as he listed for the splat.
Instead he heard a tiny voice below shout, "What the-!"
"Wha- ??" Morier stammered, the pain from his broken leg momentarily forgotten in the face of this new, alarming development. "What just happened?"
"I don't know," Shamalin answered her voice barely above a whisper, her eyes never leaving the seated mummy. Morier noticed her hand was clasped tightly around the silver holy symbol that the cleric wore.
"Everybody alright?" the mummy hissed, and even though its voice was a rasp now, it was still recognizable as Ahlear's. It surveyed the group with shriveled eyes that were sunken into the shadows cast by the somber wrappings that covered his features. "Were there further losses? Where is Huzair? And how much time has passed?"
No one answered him. The three companions stared at the mummy with similar expressions of shocked disbelief on their faces.
"Nibble?!?" the Ahlear mummy looked around, searching for what in life had been his animal companion. The dire rat had fled the scene when the negative energy had swelled within the chamber, and so was no where about.
"What the #@!$?" Huzair's voice echoed around as he dropped down from the wall of the stairwell and deactivated his Ring of Blinking. "What happened to Ahlear?" The mummy turned to watch him as he side-stepped over to Shamalin, Morier and Anania.
"Huzair..." Ahlear groaned. "I am glad that you weren't killed."
"What the #@!$ happened to Ahlear?" Huzair repeated, his voice growing more agitated. His hands hovered near his spell component pouch.
"He's a... a..." Shamalin tried to say, but seemed unable to comprehend what had happened though she had seen it with her own eyes.
"I know what I seem to have become, but,-" Ahlear was moving slowly, stiffly to its feet and Anania took a challenging step forward, bow taut and arrow aimed squarely at the mummy's head. The mummy raised a cautioning hand. "Elf, stay your bow. I am still myself in mind and motives."
Anania lowered her bow slightly, looking at Morier, who was in his turn looking at Shamalin, who was squeezing her holy symbol and staring wide-eyed at the monstrosity that seemed somehow to house Ahlear's soul.
"Morier, Shamalin... is this a trick of some foul cave-dwelling demon??" the scout asked circling slowly, keeping her bow pointed low but nonetheless in the direction of the mummy.
"I don't know," Morier admitted. "It sounds like Ahlear but-"
"I assure you it is no trick," the mummy hissed, rising to its feet. "I have enough knowledge about my state to know that this was orchestrated, by the same powers that gave me my tattoo. But my goddess intervened slightly to keep me as independent as possible, and I thank lady Akadi for this with all my heart, even a non-beating one."
Thankful? Shamalin thought. To be trapped in a lifeless husk of dead flesh? What must that be like? She stopped herself from thinking about it, feeling a scream building in her chest that she didn't think she'd be able to stop once it got started. She tasted blood, realizing dimly that she'd bit down on her own tongue in an effort to suppress the rising hysteria.
"The tattoo?" Morier growled, but he was indicating the one on his own collarbone, not Ahlear's. "What is it? And why is it on me?" The mummy sighed, the sound of a sarcophagus lid dragging shut.
"It is a physical representation of the link we share," the mummy told him. "We are bound together now, you and I." Morier screamed in response to that, and half lurched up from the floor, sword in his hand. But he hadn't the strength to rise, and a wave of cold blackness fell over him as he moved his leg.
He collapsed, panting in frustration and pain, forehead pressed against the cold floor.
"Now, I cannot change your antipathy to what I am, but I will stay loyal to you all and the cause we have," the mummy went on as it went about the business of gathering Ahlear's gear. "You might say, me being this way is actually because I am entwined in your cause and the gods don't want to lose the foothold they have it seems... neither mine nor the evil ones who made this happen. What say you we regroup, replenish and then go kill us some dwarves?" The mummy offered up a horrifying rictus that was probably intended to be a reassuring smile. There was, however, nothing reassuring about the mummy's desiccated features and a smile seemed wholly out of place there.
Anania completed her circuit of the mummy, returning to the group from the other side. "Ahlear, is that really you?" she asked, incredulous.
"It is really me," the mummy rasped without looking up. It was working at securing the rhino hide armor to its emaciated frame.
"Well that is the strangest thing... but I don't have time to dwell on that," Anania said, refocusing herself on the task at hand. "Huzair, we have to get up and out of this tunnel. Did you see any way to reactivate the stairs while you were up top?"
The wizard did not seem to have heard her. His eyes were locked on the mummy, his expression one of dawning dread. Anania reached out a hand and shook the mage until he turned to look at her.
"Did you see how the dwarves are controlling the stairs?" she asked and he blinked at her, like a man just waking up from a long, deep slumber. "While you were above, did you see-"
"There was a lever," Huzair said at last. "Set into the wall at the top of the stairs."
"Good," Anania nodded. "Can you go back up and pull that lever and keep it pulled?"
"I will do whatever," the wizard said, looking upwards at the dark shaft. "I guess."
"What do you propose?" Shamalin asked, her voice even, but throaty. Her face remained pinched and she still hadn't let go of her holy symbol.
"I think we should climb the stairs again... in force," the elf said, matter-of-factly. "Huzair can turn invisible and open the lever. Then I can climb rapidly to the top and we can attempt to hold the top of the stairs until the rest of you get there." Shamalin nodded as she considered the plan.
"I don't know," she said at last. "I mean, invisibility sounds great if we are certain that they won't be able to see right through it. It would only take one spellcaster-dwarf to detect magic and ruin our chances. What about retreating and drawing them out?"
Now it was Anania's turn to voice opposition.
"I don't think turning back is the best bet at this point," she said. "We have come this far, and if we can just get passed these stairs-"
"That's a big 'if'" Shamalin countered. "The stairs seem risky and have been nothing but trouble for us. Are we sure Huzair can force the lever to keep the stairs in place?"
"Do not worry about me," the wizard said, confidently. "I can take care of them and myself." Shamalin eyed him skeptically.
"You have to remember that they seem pretty spell-impervious, Huzair," she reminded him.
"I do not have my Ring of Invisibility and would have to use my last invisibility scroll if I wanted to go unseen," the mage admitted. "Maybe I would just do it without being invisible, and retreat as needed." He shrugged.
"I will do whatever your all want," Huzair said and Morier barked laughter from the ground.
"Not words you hear much from Huzair," the albino said through gritted teeth. Then he looked at Shamalin and added, "I know I ask for a lot of healing. But do you think you could look at my leg?" The cleric's eyes grew wide and color rose quickly to her cheeks as she went about the business of belatedly healing her friends.
While Shamalin ministered to Morier, Huzair took a step toward the Ahlear mummy who was still busy securing strewn gear.
"Can I have my invisibility ring back?" the wizard called from a discreet distance. "Please." The mummy looked up at the mage and nodded.
"Yes," it rasped. ""Here it is." He presented the ring with an outstretched arm. But as it took a step forward, Huzair took a quick step back, recoiling as if he'd been offered a live scorpion rather than a ring.
"Put it down, please, and then I will pick it up!" he said quickly. Under his breath he muttered, "Damn it! I wish I paid attention. I cannot remember if Garan-Zak told me that mummies had energy drain or not. Why do I not listen!" The mummy chuckled - a sound like someone shaking a handful of gravel - and took a step backward.
"I am not able to drain you," Ahlear growled, nodding once. "But fair enough. I cannot hope for impossible miracles in a few minutes." Then he stooped and rolled the ring across the floor toward the mage with a fluid motion that did not seem to fit with what Huzair thought he knew about mummies. He crouched down and scooped it up.
"Well, I was not implying you would do it on purpose," the wizard assured the mummy and slipped the ring back on his finger. "We had better stop the small talk and be ready. Man, won't those freaks be surprised?"
In the end, they decided to wait out their attackers rather than go with Anania's plan.
The living huddled close beneath the concealment of Huzair's Invisibility Sphere spell, weapons ready and attention focused on the shaft above. The undead lurked in the shadows and searched the walls for some sign of a secret door. There was no movement or sound from above and the stairs did not reset.
Eventually, the duration of Huzair's spell expired, returning them all to visibility.
There was still no sign of the dwarves or a secret door.
"Well that was a waste of a scroll," Huzair groused. "I should start charging you guys for-"
"Did you see that?" Anania hissed, interrupting the wizard. She was squinting upward. "I thought I saw a light for a moment."
"I don't see anything," Morier replied.
"It's gone now," the elf maid admitted. "It was very feint, but I'm sure I-"
"What the-!" Huzair exclaimed, jumping as something warm and wet splatted down on his bald head. He touched the spot and his hands came away slick with phlegm.
Somebody had spat on him from the top of the shaft.
Huzair's expression soured at once and he quickly stepped back from beneath the stairwell lest he be targeted again. He wiped his head and cast the spittle onto the floor, then rubbed his hand on his pants, fearful of poison.
"My flower, is this human spit or slobber from a creature?" he asked Anania. "Can you tell the difference, my love?" The elf looked at him and started to speak when a voice from above called out.
"Who be down there!?" the voice yelled in the common tongue, muted somewhat by distance. "Ya friend or foe?!!"
Wicked cool with the forced undead transformation, now for a real shocker you should have Huzair get a forced paladin transformation..... You could sell tickets to that.
So are your half-giants psionic? Will Noxin be sporting some mental domination?
Wicked cool with the forced undead transformation,
Well I really can't claim credit for that one. The mummy was his player's idea, not mine. And the rest of the group did not find an undead to be a welcome member of the party.
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now for a real shocker you should have Huzair get a forced paladin transformation..... You could sell tickets to that.
Isn't there a cursed belt that does that?
But surprisingly, you get to see something close to that idea a bit later in the story.
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So are your half-giants psionic? Will Noxin be sporting some mental domination?
Nope. The campaign has always been psionics-free, so Stomp! (or whatever it's called) is all he's got and all he'll get. I treat it like the Giant feat from Arcana Evolved that does the same thing essentially.
"It depends on who you are!" Huzair yelled upwards as he dried his head with a cloth. "If you are one of those nasty little dwarves I am going to kick your ass into next Freeday!"
"No, my friend. I've broken them all into little pieces" the voice resonated down the hole, gruff and deep. "Little bastards drugged me and were going to sacrifice me to some snakes. I guess they were not friends of yours either…"
Huzair looked quickly at Morier and Anania, an expression of skeptical optimism on his face. Shamalin was casting Detect Magic and missed the exchange.
"Do you know how to get the stairs back up?" Huzair shouted.
"Huh?" the big voice grunted back. "What stairs?"
"There were stairs in this shaft," the mage explained. "But there was a trap and they disappeared."
"Huh!" the voice said again. "That's somethin' ya don't see every day."
"Didn't you use the stairs to get up there?" Huzair asked.
"Well, to be quite honest, I haven't a recollection how I got down here," the voice replied. "I was drugged."
"Great..." Huzair hissed looking again at the others. Shamalin met his eyes this time.
"I sense no magic," she told him.
"There's a lever here on the wall," the voice called down.
"Yes, there is a lever, but the stairs will collapse when-" Huzair's explanation was cut off by the CHUNK! CHUNK! CHUNK! sound of the stairs extending from the central column. He looked at the others and sighed.
"Crap. Anyone who kills all those dwarves cannot be all bad," he said. "I am going up to hold the lever so the trap does not reset. Wait for my whistle." He boosted himself up onto the wall, taking no chances as he began Spiderclimbing. Before he disappeared from sight he called back, "Perhaps Ahlear should hang back out of sight to not spook this guy."
When Huzair climbed out into the chamber above, lit now by the glow of Everburning Flame, he thought that perhaps he needn't have worried about spooking their new acquaintance. This guy was huge! Huzair had known Feln for a time, and the half-ogre had been larger. But then Feln was a giant. The newcomer looked mostly human, but has certainly the largest human that the wizard had even seen. He towered two feet taller than Huzair and outweighed him by perhaps a factor of three.
His muscular torso was packed into a worn but well-maintained chain shirt. A massive sword was strapped across his back; it was half-again as big as the one that Morier wielded, but on this guy it only looked slightly oversized. In his left hand he held a hammer with a handle as long as Huzair was tall and a head the size of a small anvil. It was this weapon that shed magical light about the room.
The giant man stepped forward extending his right hand in greeting as he came. Huzair saw that he wore one pair of leather and brass goggles high on his substantial brow and a second pair hung around his neck.
"Noxin," the big man grinned as he engulfed Huzair's hand in a crushing grip. "Thought I wouldn't see a friendly face again."
"I am Huzair," the wizard answered, extricating himself from the punishing handshake.
"Well, I'll tell ya, Huzair," Noxin grinned, shaking his head and running his thick fingers through his curly black hair. "Wakin' up naked in the dark with the damn room full of snakes... Thought it was all over." Huzair looked up from massaging his hand and smirked at Noxin.
"Why is it that when we find some new guy, they are always naked?" he mused. "I remember finding Morier frolicking buck naked through the forest save for these tiny leaves with which he covered himself." Noxin smiled.
"Who's Morier?" he asked. In response, Huzair snapped his fingers and whistled down the staricase. Then he moved over to the lever and leaned against it so that it stayed firmly in the upright position.
"Listen, Noxin. You get a free pass about the spitting on me because you killed the dwarves and because you are freaking big... but please do not ever spit on me again, my friend," Huzair said, grinning. Then he hit Noxin in the arm in what he hoped was a tough, barbarianish fashion. It felt a bit like punching a slab of granite. He decided to settle for offering Noxin a cigar.
The big man grinned as he took the smoke carefully between forefinger and thumb. His coppery eyes twinkled in the flickering light.
"I prefer a strong pipe, my friend," he admitted, "but I think a cigar would calm my nerves after my escapade... many thanks." He popped the cigar in his mouth, clamping it tight in his huge teeth and began fishing in his pack for a tinderbox.
Grinning, Huzair lit the smoke with his thumb. Noxin laughed at the display of minor magic and began puffing away to get the cigar going, so by the time the others arrived, the small chamber was hazy with smoke.
As they came up - first Anania, followed by Morier - Noxin greeted them as he had Huzair, sharing his name and offering each a bone-crushing handshake. When Shamalin appeared, clanking and puffing up the stairs, Noxin squinted at her appraisingly.
"What have we here?" he asked as he extended his hand. "A black knight... but such a kind face. Have to watch out for you!!" He snorted laughter and pumped her hand. The laughter died as Ahlear's mummy stepped into the doorway.
Noxin had his hammer in a two-handed grip at once and he held it between himself and the undead. Ahlear stood his ground, but raised his hands in a gesture of peace.
"He's with us," Huzair said and Noxin turned a wondering eye to the wizard.
"You travel with the undead?" he marveled. "I can see why you keep to caves."
"It was either the caves or the giants," Ahlear rasped. "The caves seemed the lesser threat at the time." Noxin turned his eye back to the mummy, seeming confused to hear it speak. After a moment, he lowered his hammer and pulled smoke thoughtfully from his cigar.
"I wouldn't worry too much about the giants... if they waited around long enough for me to free myself I'll be surprised," the big man told them. Then he shrugged. "If they did wait... they might have work for you. We are headed to battle."
"WE?" Huzair asked. "You're with the giants?" Noxin sighed, considering and then ultimately shrugged his massive shoulders.
"Allright... let me play it straight here... I ain't no good at spinnin' stories anyway, so I'll just tell you... and if you rob me blind... so be it," the huge man began. "I am a treasure hunter - a good one too, and I been scouring this region for an ancient treasure. Well... you gotta do a lot of things as a treasure hunter, and one of 'em's eatin', so I got hooked up with this giant, Hargnar Slamfist. Well, of course, shortly after I started working with him, Cerrakean, a little hob-goblin...well, she's a warrior - if you can call a little thing like that a warrior - called in some old debt I know nothin' about."
"Cerrakean," Shamalin said, turning the word over in her mouth. "I've read that name before. In Ledare's notes I think." Noxin looked at her and shrugged again.
"Anyway... from what I remember, this giant has aligned himself with a guy name Demius Wiverly Eyes or something," the big man went on, not noticing Morier jumping a bit at the familiar name. "Anyway, this Demerius Wevern Aye is gathing an army... come to think of it, I am not sure what for... I think it's to storm a keep... but I may have dreamed that."
"Sounds like a good way to spend an afternoon," Huzair chuckled. "Any wizards or spell users among the lot?"
"Not that so's you could tell," Noxin told him. "Let me tell you, though... I think there may be treasure in these caves... Of course, I can't be sure. The poem I am thinking of seems to allude to a place like this...and I was off from the group a bit when the dwarves grabbed me... so who knows what Hargnar is doing. He may have left. He may be searching for me...not sure. It's not like we are kin, but he seemed decent enough."
"We're not here to find treasure," Shamalin said and Noxin looked at her as if she'd just asked him to punch her in the head.
"Huh?" he grunted. "If ya ain't lookin' for treasure than what are ya doin' way out here?" Shamalin ignored the question and turned to the others.
"Unless Noxin, here, has an escape route he knows about, we should just go back out the way we came in," she said and eyes turned expectantly to the big man. Again, he shrugged.
"I don't know how exactly I came down into these caves, but I am pretty sure those pale little things didn't drop me down no cliff," he laughed, ashing on the floor. "There has to be a way back up and through the top. And I would not worry about the giants on top; they fight for money... mostly. Do you have any money??"
Shamalin raised an eyebrow at this. "Money?" she asked.
"Yeah. Money," Noxin repeated. "You know... coins! Gold pieces. Silver pieces... Money!" Shamalin looked disapproving and turned to Morier, a question on her lips.
"We have money," Morier said to Noxin before the cleric could speak.
"Good!" the big man grinned.
"What does your pull have to say now, Whitey?" Huzair asked and Morier looked around at them all.
"Now we spread out and try to find a way up and out of this warren," he said and his words were met by nods. But as the others spread out, Shamalin clutched his arm and drew him close so she could softly voice her concerns.
"Is our cause now a mercenary one?" she asked him. "Do we now enlist the aid of those who might not have a passion for our purpose?" The albino sighed and shaking his head, drew a pale hand through pale locks.
"No, Shamalin, I don't think our own cause is a mercenary one... but I think you and I may be the only two left here who even have a cause...or understand and remember what our cause is, let alone pursue it with any passion," he told her. "I don't know, possibly Huzair understands, he seems... somehow different lately... His exterior makes it all too easy to underestimate him. But even if we count three of us, our odds are still pretty poor. So we enlist 'hired swords'... then I suppose you can use the word mercenary... but they serve as the means to our end. They all know what we're doing, and they all pay lip service to the end we seek before we allow them to join us." He started to turn away and then looked back at her, his eyes not quite meeting hers.
"It troubles me some to hear myself say the words out loud that show how cheaply I consider the lives that appear to take up our cause, but I rest more easily about it knowing that we have persuaded no one to join us," he said grimly, a cold, hard edge in his voice. "They have sought to travel with us and we have told each of them about the dangers involved."
[Realms #452] Sometimes a Snake isn't Just a Snake
"My exterior. Damn right I am not just a pretty face," Huzair said loudly, purposely jostling Morier so that he nearly collided with Shamalin as the two conferred in whispers. "I am going to be one of the greatest wizards of the next decade or two."
"If I let you live that long," Morier said under his breath, scowling at the wizard. Huzair scowled right back, pointing a thin finger at the albino's pale face.
"Also I do really want to save the world. Too many beautiful women in it to let some rot queen destroy it." Huzair smiled, looking lustfully at Anania, but the elf maid did not notice, she was splitting her attention between checking the walls for secret doors and keeping her eye on Ahlear. Morier caught the look and shook his head.
"See, Huzair, that's exactly why I-" the eldritch warrior began, but Huzair waved him off.
"I could be more agreeable, Morier, but who else would keep you on your toes?" he smirked.
"We could hire someone," Shamalin deadpanned. "Apparently we're taking on all sorts of mercenaries now."
"My people are not mercenaries, little knight," Noxin said, turning from his work to regard Shamalin plainly. "We are skilled craftsman... only our craft is war. I don't take on any fight I don't want to, and money is not the only criteria... usually treasure helps though." He added a wink with that last and favored the half-elf with a smile.
"Fair enough, Noxin," Morier said. "But I do not think that Shamalin's words referred solely to you and your fellows." The big man shrugged and pitched the butt of his cigar down the stairwell.
"Lets go meet your friends, Noxin," Huzair suggested and Noxin shouldered his greathammer with a nod.
"I don't mind leading the way here, if you all don't want to," he said, looking around at the group. "I got a pretty thick skin and most things turn the other way when they see me comin'." Huzair barked laughter at that.
"Hell! I do not blame them for going the other way!" the mage chuckled. "A thick skin and a big freaking hammer would make me think you would be skilled in battle."
"I am at that." The man smiled down at Huzair.
"Out of curiousity, what race are you?" the wizard asked. "Or did you just mean your tribe of people earlier?"
"I am a giant, my friend... Well, I am a human and a giant, I guess... So maybe you could call me a huma-giant... or a giant-human," Noxin speculated, pondering and scratching head. "I don't know, I guess. I just know I got kin of both types." Huzair nodded sagely despite the fact that he'd never before heard of a human-giant hybrid race.
"Are you from around here?" the mage asked. "Do you know the area well? Any large cities close by?" Noxin sniffed and shook his great head.
"Not too familiar with the area," he said, moving towards the exit. "I have been wandering really, looking for a particular horde of treasure, but have not had any luck finding it."
"We have something in common. I like treasure too," Huzair ginned, whacking the half-giant's arm again with equally painful results. "Actually let's cut the small talk and get the heck out of here and find your friends."
Noxin lead them out through the only unexplored exit in the chamber: the door in the corner. It opened onto a set of stone steps that curved back and up to the right. The half-giant turned and grinned down at Anania who was ready behind him.
"Up," he said cheerfully. "Up is good." She nodded non-committally and they pressed on to the top of the stairs.
It opened into the side of a chamber. For a moment, the shape of the chamber was baffling, but then they realized the makers' intent; the place had been fashioned into the form of a serpent's head. To the right, at what would have been the snake's neck a dark passageway sloped upward. To the left, the floor dropped away into a chill darkness from which rose a cold wind and the dull roar of falling water.
In the center of the chamber was a worn altar of some kind around which was coiled a vast ashen serpent with scales yellowed and cracked with age. Beyond the altar, in the far wall was a set a familiar arch of stone filled with a curtain of luminous green mist. Unlike the others that the group had seen, this arch was surrounded by a riot of magical glyphs and symbols drawn in what looked like dried blood.
"Well that's something ya don't see every-" Noxin started to say when a sibilant voice spoke from the empty air somewhere ahead.
"Ssspeak the name of the one I ssserve or die," it hissed, a sound full of malice..
"Also I do really want to save the world. Too many beautiful women in it to let some rot queen destroy it." Huzair smiled, looking lustfully at Anania, but the elf maid did not notice, she was splitting her attention between checking the walls for secret doors and keeping her eye on Ahlear. Morier caught the look and shook his head.
Advice for Huzair - Construct Familiar. That'll take care of that problem.
Quote:
Originally Posted by Jon Potter
"Are you from around here?" the mage asked. "Do you know the area well? Any large cities close by?"
"good brothels, reccomended red light districts, succubi, a countryside eager to be repressed, Maglin's Famous Pleasure Golem, a myopic deaf venerable dragon with a hoard that would give a rust monster a heart attack - because I got to look good for the publicity shots when I stab the dragon with my sword after someon else kills it, chaotic neutral drow?"
Quote:
Originally Posted by Jon Potter
"We have something in common. I like treasure too," Huzair ginned, whacking the half-giant's arm again with equally painful results. "Actually let's cut the small talk and get the heck out of here and find your friends."
"the quicker we find the gold the faster my progeny can conquer the world, any way you can move faster than that? In fact can you just carry Morier, he'll just slow us down, if we meet resistance you can dwarf toss him into the fray."
"the quicker we find the gold the faster my progeny can conquer the world, any way you can move faster than that? In fact can you just carry Morier, he'll just slow us down, if we meet resistance you can dwarf toss him into the fray."[/quote]
Marvelous stuff! You channel Huzair so perfectly...
[Realms #453] Who Knew Snakes had such Bad Breath?
The group exchanged glances. Well, except for Huzair who simply activated the Ring of Invisibility and vanished. All of them seemed to believe that Aphyx was the correct answer, but no one seemed willing to speak the Rot Queen's name. As the silent moment swelled uncomfortably, Ahlear took a shuffling step forward.
"Aphyx...?" Ahlear rasped as he scanned the room for the invisible speaker. The response was a horrible keening wail that sounded like the death screams of a thousand innocent souls. It was followed up immediately by a cone of utter cold that originated from somewhere above and behind the altar and bathed the entire party in its chill.
Ahlear thought for an instant that he saw the shape of an enormous invisible serpent rimed in frost as the breath weapon discharged, but then he was engulfed in the swirling cold and could see no more. When the ice cleared a moment later, where he thought he had seen the snake's head there was nothing save empty air.
The mummy reacted first, jumping back from the altar and rasping a few curses. He pulled a potion vial from his belt saying, "Guess that was the wrong answer!" Behind him, invisible and clinging to the mortal coil only by virtue of the False Life spell he had cast earlier, Huzair snorted.
"Wrong answer?" he sniped. "I guess!" Sarcasm dripped heavily from his words and as Ahlear opened his mouth to say something more, the wizard quickly shrieked, "DO NOT answer again!"
Anania staggered to the side, aimed her bow at the spot where the cone of cold had originated and loosed an arrow. It clattered against the ceiling and then fell to the floor. There seemed to be nothing there, but an instant later she was lifted violently off the ground, and blood exploded from beneath her armor as something ravaged her flesh, while leaving her covering unmarked. She screamed even as she reached for another arrow from her everfull quiver, but before she could raise it to her bowstring, she was hurled violently against the left-hand wall. She struck with the force of a battering ram and slid bonelessly down the hole there, falling into the dark chamber below.
"Everyone out of the room!" Huzair's voice shouted, followed by the sound of his feet retreating down the staircase. "Let us regroup outside of the room!"
Noxin raised his hammer in a defensive posture and placed his body in such a way that he defended the doorway leading back the way they came. "Retreat!" he called, looking at Morier briefly before returning his attention to whatever invisible thing lurked in the chamber. "I'll hold the line! Go!" The albino glanced at Noxin and then nodded at Shamalin.
"He's right! We're not prepared to deal with this!" Morier told the cleric, stepping behind the big man's left shoulder and heading down the stairs. Shamalin didn't answer as she was in the process of casting a spell; however once the Sanctuary was in place, she moved to follow the eldritch warrior, leaving Noxin and Ahlear in the chamber.
"Come on!" Noxin shouted at the mummy. Ahlear glanced up.
"But the elf-" the mummy started to say, gesturing to the hole in the floor.
"She's dead!" Noxin barked. "And you may like it, but I got no plans to join the two o' ya!" Ahlear said nothing, but spared the dark hole in the floor another look and then loped quickly out the door and down the stairs. He sensed rather than heard or felt jaws snapping shut in the air behind him.
"We'll be seein' ya!" Noxin grinned up at the empty room, swinging his hammer in a defensive pattern in front of himself despite the fact that he saw nothing threatening. He managed a single retreating step before something slammed into him, or rather it slammed into his hammer. The force, or weight, or whatever threatened to wrench the weapon from his hands, but he maintained his grip and was able to struggle against the unseen thing. It was fantastically strong! Noxin had once, foolishly, challenged a cloud giant to what ended up as a very brief, very humiliating wrestling match. The cloud giant was strong, but this – whatever this was – was stronger still. A lot stronger!
Noxin gave ground and pulled the hammer free with a jerk. As he retreated down the steps, he heard a voice call after him.
"I'll be waiting!" it hissed.
"Why are you so insistent that we not give another name?" Shamalin was asking Huzair when Noxin reached the chamber at the bottom of the stairs. "Couldn't it possibly save us from further attack?" The wizard shrugged and downed a potion.
"I saw what being wrong cost us," he told the cleric as he wiped his lips on the back of his hand. "I guess you could give it a try, if you want." He made a gracious gesture toward the stairs back up to the chamber and smirked with Shamalin looked away.
"Could it be the Animal Lord, Brogine's sister, Dridana that the snake serves?" Shamalin asked, glancing up hopefully at the others. Morier nodded although he didn't look happy with the realization.
"Yes... it must be," the eldritch warrior admitted.
"I could go up and call out: 'You serve the Animal Lord Dridana'," Shamalin suggested. "That might earn us passage."
"I don't know that I'd try that if I was you," Noxin said, massaging his meaty shoulder with one huge hand. "Whatever's up there's awful strong. You all saw what it did to the elf."
"My poor little flower," Huzair said with genuine remorse in his voice. His expression hardened and he shook his fist, his other hand going to his spell component pouch. "I want to Fireball that place out of spite," he growled. "It may also do some good. I cannot miss, that is for sure!"
"No No No NO NO NO !!!" Morier shouted grabbing Huzair's arm at the elbow in a grip that as always seemed out of place on his spare frame. The mage glowered down at him and tried ineffectually to peel Morier's fingers off his arm.
"Have you got a better idea, Whitey?" he challenged.
"Yes. I do," Morier said. "Shamalin can heal me up, I'll buff a bit, and go try speaking Dridana's name." Huzair snorted.
"Be my guest," Huzair said as he stowed his empty potion vial in his Handy Haversack. "In fact, I encourage it. I suggest Ahlear go since he's already dead." The mummy managed to look annoyed despite the limitations imposed by desiccated flesh and obscuring wrappings.
"True, I have touched death once," he hissed, "but I am not happy to suicide just for your convenience." Huzair shrugged.
"Guess that leaves you, whitey," the mage said with a smirk.
"Aw, I don't know," Noxin grinned, raising his hammer to his shoulder. "I am willing to go on the attack."
"That's two," Huzair observed. "Any other takers?"
"I would be much more beneficial to our efforts were we to rest here overnight," Shamalin admitted. "I'm nearly out of miracles. But Anania is out there somewhere and I can't justify leaving her."
"My guess is Anania has passed onto the 100 days walk," Noxin said with a shrug. "I've seen folks take a lot o' punishment an' walk away, but not that much." Huzair glared at him, but the big man did not notice.
"I still want to retrieve her body for a proper burial..." Ahlear rasped. "It is the least..." His sepulchral voice trailed off and Huzair nodded.
"If there is no risk I will go get it invisibly," he offered.
"We don't know where it is," Ahlear reminded and Huzair threw his hands up.
"Whatever!" he scoffed. We still need to address this invisible snake as soon as possible. I do not feel right just lounging about with it up there. "
"I told ya, I am ready to fight..." Noxin said and quaffed a potion.
"Hopefully it won't lead to combat," Morier told him. "But I am glad to have you at my side if it does."
"Just make sure you stay behind him up there," Huzair hissed into Morier's ear. "He's put together a lot more solidly than you are."
Morier did not take Huzair's advice, instead leading the way up the stairs to the chamber above. Noxin's glowing hammer cast the eldritch warrior's shadow long in front of him and on the threshold of the altar chamber, Morier looked over his shoulder and said, "Put away the weapon, but be ready." Noxin looked at him as if he were mad and kept the hammer where it was.
"I'm ready," he said. "You jus' say what you gotta say and don't worry about me." Morier nodded and stepped forward.
"You came back," the voice hissed, equal parts menace and surprise.
"I know who you serve," Morier said. "You serve Dridana." The words hung in the air for a moment and then a dry mirthless chuckle filled the chamber.
"You are correct," the voice said. "Long have I waited for sssomeone to ssspeak Her name and free me from my tasssk as guardian of the gate. It isss a pity that you are not that one. A true ssservent of She Who isss All would not have firssst ssspoken the name of Her enemy." That was all the warning that Morier got.
The next thing he knew he felt fangs the size of daggers sinking into his flesh beneath his armor. He felt venom being pumped into his body, but managed to resist the initial shock of it. He could do nothing as he felt invisible coils wrap around him and squeeze the breath from his lungs. He struggled mightily, but even augmented as he was by a Bull's Strength spell, he may as well have been struggling to resist the hand of a god. He squeaked as he felt ribs start to crack beneath the strain.
"Bloody thing is at it again!" Noxin roared and in the chamber below, Huzair cursed, activated the Ring of Blinking and stuttered his way up the stairs. The scene that greeted him above was shocking.
He saw Morier, suspended in mid-air, his face a rictus of agony. Then he Blinked and saw the same scene on the Ethereal Plane. This time, Morier was completely obscured by the coils of an enormous snake with scales of scintillating gold. Its head loomed above Noxin, opalescent eyes filled with a malevolent intelligence that had no place in a snake's skull. Then he Blinked again and the serpent was gone even as Noxin lunged for it with his bare hands.
The half-giant moved quickly to grab the thing crushing Morier but realized that whatever it was was not just invisible but incorporeal as well. Instead, he grabbed a hold of Morier in an attempt to carry him out of the chamber.
"Come here, boy," he grunted. "We got to get you out of this room!"
Before he could get a firm grip on the eldritch warrior, he felt daggers bury themselves all along his chest and back. Huzair saw the snake dart forward and engulf Noxin's head and half his body in its maw before retracting.
"Patiensss. Time enough for you to die when I finish with thisss one, manling," the serpent hissed.
"Blasphemous invisible snake!" Noxin cursed, pressing a hand against his shoulder where his blood was oozing through the links of his chain shirt. "Everyone out. We can't take this thing on yet!!"
"No ssservant of Aphyx may ssstand before me and live," the serpent told him and Huzair deactivated the Ring of Blinking.
"We are not servants of Aphyx. We only spoke the Rot Queen's name because of the evil you housed here - with those ghastly dwarves attacking us. The appearance of this place was deceptive," the wizard said. "We are on the same side and have the keys to free Dridana! See!" And saying thus he pulled Flameblade from its sheathe and was instantly rimed in flickering flames.
"The scion of fire awakes!" the sword crackled and Morier let out a sighing sound as he sagged in the snake's invisible coils.
"Flameblade?" the serpent hissed, its voice filled with uncertainty.
"Do not be a fool and kill your allies," Huzair pleaded. "Hear us out!"
"Yes, please don't kill him! You must listen," Shamalin implored as she pushed passed Ahlear and clanked into the chamber. "He has been chosen by the guardians of the Grove of Renewal to help in the quest to fight Aphyx! He has a pull in his head that has led us thus far! Our goal is to put the keys in the walls and free Beast's twin!"
"But you bring only one key," the snake said. "The gate will only open with all four keysss." Shamalin drew Waveblade from its scabbard.
"THE SCION OF WATER AWAKES!" it thundered, filling the chamber with the sound of crashing waves.
"And he carries Stoneblade," Shamalin went on, indicating Morier. On cue, the eldritch warrior drew the greatsword.
"THE SCION OF STONE AWAKES!" it bellowed, its voice an avalanche of sound. Morier felt the force around him move away, leaving him alive - but decidedly unwell.
"You bring three keysss when four are required," the snake observed and Ahlear pointed to the hole in the chamber floor down which Anania had disappeared.
"The elf you slew bore Windblade," the mummy rasped accusingly.
"The elf sssought to injure me," the snake told him. "You yourssself, ssspoke the name of the enemy, foul one." There was barely contained menace in its voice as it spoke, and while Ahlear could not see the thing, he sensed that it was looming over him.
"As unlikely as it seems, this one works toward the cause of your goddess even in death!" Shamalin said, grimacing as she acknowledged the mummy. The snake hissed derisively.
"It exissstsss outssside the natural order. It walksss the Rot Queen'sss path," the serpent asserted. "What plassse doesss it have in Her ssservisss!"
'"You would do Dridana a great disservice by preventing this!" Shamalin assured the snake. "Please, I worship the Goddess of Mercy. Trust me."
There was a pause and then the snake hissed, "The White Lady wasss an ally to Dridana in daysss long passst. You have earned my ear. Ssspeak."
Shamalin took a breath, steadying herself. Knowing she had mere seconds to persuade the guardian snake to believe them, her mind raced. What more could be said? She thought back to her first days with this party. Morier and their tour of the renovated Manor House with careful regard for her feelings. Huzair and how he had shocked the holy sisterhood by smoking in the temple. Feln. Ixin. Lela. Vade. Finian. Soriah. These last only whisps and fragments - names remembered from Ledare's journal - campfire legends now more than anything else. And yet Shamalin owed them every ounce of courage she could muster in this moment.
But the moment was quickly stolen from her.
"You have the right to claim what is natural whilst you yourself are not even a natural creature?" the Ahlear mummy rasped, striding confidently to the fore. "With what right do you accuse me, who fought with his life for a cause as noble as any, and was unwillingly a pawn of gods?" Huzair reached out with Flameblade, placing the fiery sword in Ahlear's path. The wizard was more than a little pleased to see the mummy flinch back from the burning weapon.
"Dridana's servant was talking to Shamalin, not you," Huzair said, trying to convey with his expression that Ahlear should immediately shut up. Ahlear, of course, did no such thing.
"I will not be wrongly insulted. I still fight the righteous fight, in whatever form Akadi allows me to continue on," he told Huzair and then turned his withered face to the empty air where he supposed the serpent to be. "Be silent 'fake snake' and listen to our honorable Shamalin, who bears her heart heavy with all she has seen and done all in the service of this great goal." The guardian's response was a low menacing hiss. This call was answered by the warning rattle of dozens of snakes from the hole in the floor down which Anania had fallen.
Noxin recognized the sound as the same as the one he'd heard upon awakening earlier, chained to the stone plinth. He also now recognized the sound of falling water and put the two sounds together; below was the chamber in which he'd been left by the dwarves.
He quaffed a potion, and stepped aside, allowing this confrontation to play out without his interference.
"Thisss girl knowsss little about the heavinesss which can weigh on a heart, creature," the snake hissed, its anger in no way concealed. "And you, thing of the pit, know even lesss than she. I have had my goddesss - the one who gave me life - sssnatched away. I have lingered here for agesss untold guarding Her remainsss and waiting for the dessstined to relieve me of my burden."
"In all that time, yoursss isss the firssst group to warrant more than a ssswift death," the serpent said. "But I am confident that you are not the onesss for whom I wait. You lack the purity of ssspirit and body to complete the tasssksss ahead." Ahlear opened his dusty mouth to refute that and Huzair raised Flameblade, silencing him.
"I disagree with my comrade and apologize for his tone," the wizard said. He smiled his best smile and added, "You are wise to protect and even wiser to listen. You are just doing your service to Dridana. I feel your anger and respect your duty. Please let the priestess speak for us." Whether those last words were intended for the serpent or the mummy was unclear.
All eyes turned to Shamalin and she felt the weight of this responsibility pressing down on her like a giant's boot. Swallowing thickly, she took a step forward.
"If the legions stood before you now who have fought and died in an effort to free Dridana's heart, their numbers would stretch beyond your lair. But we alone are left to represent them," she said. She thrust her sword out by the hilt, her arm trembling slightly under the strain. "Guardians. Portals. Keys. Ask the swords what has transpired."
"THE ELFLING SPEAKS THE TRUTH!" Waveblade roared. "SHE MAY BE UNFIT TO WIELD ME IN BATTLE, BUT SHE AND HER COMPANIONS HAVE PASSED THE TESTS SET DOWN OF OLD."
"You must yield the gate, Histah" added Flameblade.
"IT IS YOUR DUTY!" Stoneblade insisted. "JUST AS IT IS OUR DUTY TO YIELD OUR LIVES TO FREE OUR LADY'S HEART!" Histah, the snake guardian, hissed angrily.
"Do not ssspeak to me of duty, ssscion!" the serpent said. "I have remained here, vigilant while you ssslept away the eonsss blisssfully unaware of time'sss unbending presss!"
"IT DOES SEEM LIKELY THAT YOU HAD THE WORSE OF IT, GUARDIAN," Waveblade admitted. "BUT THE FACT REMAINS THAT THESE FLESHLINGS HAVE PASSED THE TRIALS." Shamalin nodded eagerly, her eyes wide with wonder at the strange course that the encounter had taken.
"Countless tests, riddles and poems have brought us to this moment," she said. She cleared her throat and added, "But if there comes a force of good and if their will is understood... I have to believe that we are that force."
"Your wordsss mean little to me, priessstesss," Histah told her. "I know not of thisss poetry."
"I can recite more for you. All of them in fact," she told the snake. "But would that convince you that our hearts are true? I think not."
"In that you are correct," Histah replied. "For wordsss - even thossse asss honeyed asss your own - are in the end asss meaninglesss asss breath. It isss action that movess my heart."
The mummy that was Ahlear made a motion but Shamalin shook her head and continued. "We stand before you in the name of your goddess, Dridana, who once gave her life in battle against the Rot Queen. It is her heart that guides us. If truly you are her servant, then defer to her judgement."
Histah's response was a long rumbling hiss that seemed to fill the chamber.
Noxin's jaw dropped open just a bit. He drank his potion without his eyes leaving the black knight as Shamalin argued her case.
He turned, and in the best whisper he could muster, said to Morier, "I can see why you keep that one with you..." The albino nodded, smiling weakly as he held his injured ribs. Huzair sidled up to the eldritch warrior's other side and softly spoke into his ear.
"You owe me a bottle of Elverquisst, my friend," Huzair whispered as he playfully whacked Morier's sore ribs. The albino barely stifled his cry of pain, and the glare he shot at Huzair would have set the wizard's hair on fire if he'd had any hair.
"Four keysss are required to free Dridana'sss heart," the snake said after a long pause. "And I would hear from Windblade before I make my decisssion."
"YOU KNOW WHAT SHE WILL SAY, HISTAH!" Stoneblade thundered.
"There is no decision for you to make," Flameblade crackled. "Your duty is clear."
"I would hear from Windblade!!!" the snake shrieked. "Thisss dead thing hasss talked of Akadi, and a bit of her esssence resssidesss in Windblade. I would hear from the scion of air!"
"We must get Anania, then," Huzair said casting his eyes about, uncertain where the snake was and unwilling to activate the Ring of Blinking in order to find out for certain. "She has Windblade and may still be alive. Is it safe in the pit, oh powerful servant of Dridana? Let us retrieve Windblade and save our beautiful comrade before it is too late!"
"It isss already too late, planetouched," Histah told him. "The elf isss dead, but she bringsss the ssscion of air to usss even now." Huzair seemed to deflate as the guardian pronounced Anania's fate.
"Ahhh... Here she isss now," the snake said and they heard a scuffling step on the stairs behind them. The sort of sound that the light-footed elf maid had never made in life. But, she was clearly no longer alive.
She moved forward - or rather her body did - impelled by the force of dozens - maybe hundreds - of small snakes that had worked their way beneath her armor and clothing. By some insane, coordinated contortion of their bodies they were able to move her up the stairs in a halting, shuffling gait. Her head, lolled hideously on a broken neck. She had lost her bow, but somehow, Windblade remained in the hand, a barely visible wisp of a blade.
"Open the gate, Histah," the sword sighed. "They have passed the tests and come before you. You must open the gate."
There was a silence then in the room, followed by a strangely modulated hiss from the guardian. The snakes that had animated Anania slithered free of her and the elf's corpse collapsed like a marionette whose strings had been cut. The snakes slithered across the floor and disappeared down the hole in the floor, dropping one by one into darkness.
"When the light of Orin'sss Shield ssstrikesss the Ssserpent'sss Eye, I will open the way for you," Histah sighed. "There are ssseveral hoursss until dawn. Ressst now and prepare for what liesss ahead."
Shamalin sagged in her armor, releasing in a prolonged hiss a breath she was unaware she'd been holding. Huzair stepped up and put his arm around her.
"Nice job, sweetheart," Huzair whispered with uncharacteristic sincerity. Shamalin looked at him critically as he turned away, lighting a cigar, but then Noxin's big hand was patting her shoulder. She looked up into his broad face.
"Shamalin, I've worked with all kinds... thieves, traders, knights, and even holy men... but you are something different," he said with a grin. "I admire you. And if you need my help, I'll help you with your tests."
Shamalin regarded him silently for a moment, appraising this offer, and then looked to Morier. Meeting his eye she said, "Someone must carry Windblade." All eyes in the room turned to her and Noxin's grin spread into a full-fledged smile that split his face practically from ear to ear.
"If you're serious, and you want someone to be the steward of Windblade, I'll graciously accept," the big man said, pressing a hand to his chest.
"You're going a bit fast, aren't you? Don't you think he has to earn a lot more trust first before being allowed to handle one of the keys?" Ahlear rasped, a note of warning in his gravelly voice.
"If Shamalin finds Noxin trustworthy, I think I would be inclined to trust her and give him Windblade," Morier told the mummy. Turning to look up at Noxin he added, "If only because he looks like he could do some ass-whooping with it." Noxin grinned, but Ahlear balked.
"Is that a proper measure of his worth, Morier?" he asked. "We're struggling to free a nature goddess, not a god of war!" Noxin eyed the Mummy.
"Aye, mummy... It seems like you're no friend to this guardian, but you speak as if you fight for the natural cause," the barbarian asked, squinting down at the mummy, but not getting too close. "How does this happen? No natural force would animate you in such a way and I can't believe the dark gods would animate you to fight against them!" The mummy took a step closer and Noxin gave him ground. The undead creature's face was full of disdain.
"Noxin... you ask questions as if you have a right to get answers about me or the party I am with and its motives," he said. "I assure you, you're no where near that status yet. But I will indulge you-" Before he could say any more, Noxin waved his hand dissuasively.
"You're a little whelp, aren't you?" he said in a deep, booming voice that drowned out the mummy's rasping whisper. "Well, let me save you the trouble. I was asking out of courtesy, to try to better know you... but your insults are not welcome to me."
"Hrrmpf..." the mummy growled with disapproval.
"Save your tongue, boy... and maybe it will save your decrepit hide," Noxin sneered opening his eyes wide in a threatening manner... but then he laughed to the rest. "You are a motley bunch, for sure: An undead whelp, a hot headed wizard, a white elf, and a pure-hearted knight sheathed in dark armor! What I have stumbled into this fine day?" He roared with laughter.
Shamalin looked around at the group and released a barely suppressed giggle. "He's right," she said. "What a sight we must be."
"Hot headed, my friend? You have seen nothing yet," Huzair laughed and whacked Noxin's arm again. Noxin swayed in an exaggerated way from Huzair's blow, smiling and rubbing his muscular arm.
"Take it easy there," he chuckled. "We'll have plenty of fighting when the snake opens this gate." Ahlear snorted laughter.
"I guess the motley bunch found an oaf with a hammer," Ahlear said, his desiccated lips stretched back into a smile. Huzair turned on him, brandishing Flameblade as he had before.
"If you listen, you might not get killed... again," the mage cautioned, his face lit by the glow of the fiery sword. Ahlear met the wizard's gaze despite the fact that the bandages on the mummy's face began to smoke slightly from the weapon's heat.
"Huzair, stop waving that horrible flame-sword in my face just because I give a reprimand in debate," the mummy rasped. "I have just as much right as any of our 'core group' to voice my thoughts and opinions."
"Look here!" Huzair snapped angrily. Then he took a deep breath and mastered himself, calmly puffing and waving his cigar around as he spoke. "You know, Ahlear, there is a time to berate someone and there is a time to hold you tongue. I would suggest choosing to hold your tongue more." The mummy looked at him but said nothing.
"Histah has the right to disrespect you. He is probably 50 feet long and could eat, crush or freeze this party at will... and he is pissed off. That gives him the right," the wizard went on, pointing his finger in the direction of the altar. "I doubt there are many things he has to respect and we are not among them."
"I admit that I went off for a few seconds myself, but that was because he killed my poor sweet little flower. If someone insults your honor or whatever take it easy untill it is worth it.... or you can win by yourself." Huzair continued. "As my master used to say: 'Judge your foe or you will get your ass kicked... again'."
"You are entitled to your opinion," Ahlear said. "Just as I am entitled to mine."
"You could have gotten us all killed defending YOUR DAMNED OPINIONS! If I were Histah I would have bitten your head off and spit it out at your feet. This is not about your service, it is about OUR mission." Huzair exclaimed pointing the hand with the lit cigar in the mummy's face. His body was trembling with emotion, but again Huzair composed himself, much to the other's suprise.
"I know you are thinking I am a hippocrite. I only mouth off to Morier because I know he would never hurt me... or could," he said, favoring Morier with a charming wink. "Notice I have not said anything rude to Noxin... and he spit on my head! He is a bruiser. I would not mess with him... until I know him. Take my words to heart or you may get yourself killed AGAIN." He emphasized the point by sticking the burning end of his cigar in Ahlear's face. The mummy turned his head, scowling behind his black bandages.
"Get that thing out of my face!" he growled angrily and Huzair scowled back at him. Then, without looking away from the mummy's face, the wizard turned the cigar and ground it out in the palm of his own hand. Then he turned away, shaking his head.
"Bah! It is just Garan-Zak's wisdom wearing off on me," Huzair grumbled. "He talks so damned much." His eyes fell on Anania's fallen body and his shoulders slumped.
"Shamalin, would you say some final prayers for Anania? What a crappy way for my little flower to die," Huzair commented with saddness as he walked over to Anania, pulling off his cloak and draping it over her body.
"It is the least I can do," Shamalin sad as she moved to the elf maid's corpse. "I owe her an apology for questioning whether or not her personal allegiances jeopardized the party's safety. There is no doubt about her loyalty to this party now." Delicately, Shamalin took the Necklace of Eyes from around the scout's broken neck, removed one as she had seen Anania do and released it. It bobbed in the air and then began drifting away down the stairwell. Shamalin noted that there were fewer eye stalks on the Necklace than there had been the last time she'd seen the device. She laid it to the side, intending to destroy it later, and went about the business of preparing the body for the afterlife.
"So, what are you all doing on the other side of this gate?" Noxin asked after they'd paid their respects. "Is there a horde a treasure for releasing this god or is it some sort of honor pledge?" Shamalin was tending to Morier as best she could without benefit of her magic.
"I don't know what sort of reward awaits us," Morier admitted. "But we do this because we must. The whole world depends on us." Huzair rolled his eyes, but Noxin nodded, pondering.
"Do you have any idea what we'll face on the other side?" he asked, and the albino met his eyes. After a moment's pause, he shook his head.
"I think we can find out," Shamalin said, drawing Waveblade from its sheath.
"THE SCION OF WATER AWAKES!" the sword, which looked slightly smaller than the last time she'd drawn it, roared. Gravely, Shamalin set Waveblade in front of her and studied it.
"You knew we were coming here," she mused out loud. "You called the snake by name."
"THE WAY BEYOND THE GREEN IS OUR DESTINY," the sword thundered. "WE WERE MADE TO COME HERE AND PASS BEYOND THE GATE. HISTAH IS THE GUARDIAN OF THE GATE. IT IS AS IT WAS FORETOLD." Shamalin nodded.
"What else can you tell us about this task?" she asked. "What lies beyond the gate?"
"DRIDANA'S HEART LIES BEYOND IN ITS PRISON," Wavebade said. "ONLY WE FOUR SCIONS UNITED CAN UNLOCK THAT PRISON AND FREE THE HEART. IN DOING SO WE WILL FORFEIT OUR LIVES - A PRICE WE GLADLY PAY."
"What should we look for?" Shamalin asked. "How best can I prepare?"
"I DO NOT KNOW," the sword admitted. "THE MAGIC THAT SEALED THE GATE IS THE SAME THAT GAVE ME LIFE. WHEN THE PRISON CLOSED I AWAKENED FOR THE FIRST TIME."
"I have looked beyond," Histah's voice spoke out of the air above them. "There isss danger beyond the gate for you."
"Is it going to be combat or cerebral?" Huzair asked.
"It wasss intended to be neither," the snake said. "But Dridana'sss esssence - her demiurge - hasss been trapped there for too long. She hasss become... unpredictable."
Interesting how the party has been quick to replace their trust in Ahlear with Noxin even though technically the party has known both of them a collective 1 month's time.
, anyway (love the smilies)...
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