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Adventures in Eberron> Chapter 32 posted 08-08-05>
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<blockquote data-quote="skullsmurfer" data-source="post: 2295612" data-attributes="member: 17151"><p><strong>Blood in the Sewers, Chapter 4</strong></p><p></p><p>The network of service, sewer, drainage, water tunnels that honeycomb the City of Sharn are a wonder. It is doubtful that any one person can know them all. Theodyl started out by looking for private paths, bolt holes, and escape routes. A well prepared man can travel most of Sharn unseen by any but the sewer rats. His research lead him to mapping out various networks. The city keeps records and maps up to a point, only the oft used tunnels and sewers remain. Various archives held more, much more useful information. The best knowledge came from the skulks and darklings who actually live in the dark corners of the city. There are entire communities of folk who have dropped out of Sharn proper and taken residence in the various spaces below. Of course, there are monsters too. Not dangerous people, but real monsters, abominations and the aberrations that serve them. A city map can tell you were to go, but a mangy goblin tunnel boy can tell you where not to get eaten.</p><p> </p><p> “Yer daydreamin' again Lad,” the beer stein whispered, “there be trouble ahead as sure as my pappy had a beard.” The dwarven spirit has an uncanny nose for trouble.</p><p> </p><p> Theodyl skulked ahead. As he moved, he gripped his harp with one hand and methodically checked and re-checked his weapons, leathers, and various other items with the other. An odd hissing and scraping caught his attention. He followed the sound to a barrel vault intersection. There are signs of battle. There is blood on the stone paved floor and there are crossbow bolts scattered about. The blood is fresh, and there are more droplets leading towards the left tunnel. Theodyl summoned his favored My-light spell. A pale violet globe of light formed just in front of him and moved ahead ten paces. Only he can see it or its light, it is perfect for this situation.</p><p></p><p> The blood trail led to a crumpled goblin wearing a battered iron cap. A cross bow lays broken next to him. He is dead, torn up badly, but there is no blood. Theodyl examined the wounds carefully. The pattern and shape caught his eye, but he couldn't quite identify the creature. He could hear noise and someone cursing not far off. Still, he wants to know what he will be facing.</p><p></p><p> “'tis from a Death Kiss Lad,” the beer stein said, recognizing the wounds, “a beholder thing that drinks blood. They be sneakier than eye-tyrants. The can shock ye like an eel too, it is best to kill'em from from a distance. Do not shame me and let it live.”</p><p></p><p> The emotion in the spirit's voice convinced Theodyl. He has no love for the monsters that hunt below. He checked his gear one last time and sprinted towards the end of the tunnel.</p><p></p><p> Theodyl drew an arrow from his quiver and knocked it on his harp. The bow shape isn't just for looks. He sighted the creature writhing along the ground. It looks like the thing has already seen its share of battle. The goblin could not have done all of that, those are sword slashes. It's bulbous middle floated about a foot high. It is wider than a man is tall and its tentacles are at least three times as long. It seems to bee tasting for a blood trail. There are mouths at the tips of its tentacles. Disgusting. Theodyl held his shot and tried to spot its prey. There is a large storm drain pipe along the side of the tunnel. It might serve as a ledge to a child or a small humanoid. With the Death Kiss so preoccupied with the blood on the ground, it is as good a place as any to hide. Theodyl sent the My-light globe just far enough ahead to confirm his notion. A shape hidden in the shadows gave him the answer he needed.</p><p></p><p> “Careful Lad, they be cunning. It will double back soon.” the beer stein warned as the Death Kiss suddenly rose up and spun about in the air.</p><p> </p><p> The figure hiding on the ledge yelped loudly, the Death Kiss flung a long probing tentacle at the noise. Theodyl let fly his arrow with a musical twang. The alchemically treated arrow pierced the offending tentacle and flashed into flame. The Death Kiss turned towards Theodyl, but he was faster. Three more notes later, three arrows penetrated the rounded, blubbery center mass. Only one of these arrows burst into flame, but is was enough. The two mundane arrows sank deep into its eye. The Death Kiss shuddered, burst into a sudden electrically charged dance, and then finally lay still.</p><p></p><p> “Excellent kill Lad,” the dwarven spirit cheered, “I couldn't have done it better me self! Yer startin' to make a good impression on me. Don't forget to have a drink, 'tis the only proper way to celebrate.” </p><p></p><p> Theodyl cursed. The Death Kiss can be dangerous even as it dies. The electrical discharge knocked him on his backside. He worked hard to loosen the stiffness in his muscles. Something else might attack. He took a sip from his canteen and hurried towards whomever was hiding on that ledge. If they are wounded anything like the dead goblin, they need help sooner than later. As Theodyl hurried he saw a young orc-blooded boy fall to the ground and struggle to stand. Theodyl caught him before he collapsed. The Healer's kit he carries has a powdered styptic that will close the bleeding gashes. He also has plenty of bandages. If anything, the war taught him to be prepared. </p><p> </p><p> The kid moaned as he worked on his wounds; though he didn't wake. Theodyl fed him some water and then unwrapped a special treat. The Hero's Vigor, a square confection of magic, chocolate, gold dust, and hot peppers started to melt as soon as it hit the kid's mouth. The young half-orc sprang to his feet and started huffing and puffing while cursing like a sailor. His watering eyes shut tightly beneath heavy brows. His upturned nose, turned red and his nostrils flared. His mouth hung open and he breathed desperately over his tonge. Theodyl handed the kid his canteen and waited for him to recover.</p><p></p><p> “Why-de-hell-didya-do-to-me-ya-manker-bastard?” The kid asked finally. He spoke so quickly, that he ran out of breath.</p><p></p><p> “I saved your life,” Theodyl answered, “can you tell me what happened?”</p><p></p><p> “Ye-gots-coin?” He asked just as quickly. </p><p> </p><p> Theodyl smiled at the kid. Even with all those bandages he is still pretty rambunctious. He snapped his fingers and a silver piece appeared in his hand. He deftly made the gleaming coin dance in between his fingers while the young half-orc licked his lips. He wiggled his fingers and the coin disappeared. He snapped his fingers again and four silver pieces suddenly appeared in between his fingers. </p><p> </p><p> “How-you-do-them-tricks?-Givme-I-want'em!” The kid reached out to the coins.</p><p></p><p> “Now, now, I am paying for a story.” Theodyl said smoothly. “I will pay for information. Is it a deal?”</p><p> </p><p> The kid pursed his lips and wrinkled his brow. He shifted his stance wiping his flat nose with the back of his palm. Clearly the boy is versed in proper street etiquette. He sighed, perhaps imitating some adult in his life, and put out his hand. Theodyl shook on it.</p><p> </p><p> The words burst out of his mouth, pouring over his very noticeable protruding jaw. Theodyl listened intently while he tried to recover his arrows. Two of the projectiles were just fine. The flaming arrows were all but gone except for their iron tips. He had to dig into the disgusting creature's body for those. While he was at it, he also collected a sample of the beast and filled a glass container with some of its blood. He knows he read something about the blood of a Death Kiss somewhere. It might come in handy. </p><p> </p><p> The kid continued speaking as he worked. Theodyl sensed that his manic energy wasn't just a side effect of the candy. He can also feel the kid watching his every movement. He tried to pick out details as the boy rambled through his story. He will have the boy tell the story more than once and he will then question him further on those points he feels are pertinent. When the boy finally finished he stopped so abruptly, Theodyl was startled.</p><p></p><p> “Knobby's-dead-isn't-he?” He blurted.</p><p></p><p> “Yeah, kid...he's down that way. He fought hard, I can tell.”</p><p></p><p> “My name is Nook!” The boy snapped angrily before he started to cry.</p><p></p><p> Theodyl hugged the kid. He led him away before anything else tried to eat them. He really isn't used to children, but he remembers the things that always made him feel better when he was that age. Theodyl reached into one of his many pockets and drew out a handful of dried fruit. The kid sniffled and snorted while he ate. Theodyl waited him out. He's starting to think the kid is approaching the age of ten. That's when orcish types experience the explosive growth that makes them such a terror in their youth. A kid that age shouldn't have to experience such horrors. Theodyl was about to ask the boy where he lives when a rhythmic tapping got their attention.</p><p></p><p> Nook scrambled to his feet and put his ear to one of the pipes. He drew a rock from his belt and tapped on the pipe. The tapping stopped and resumed in a new pattern in response to Nook. The boy tapped out a long series of patterns furrowing his brow in concentration. When he was done he looked around in a panic.</p><p> </p><p> “There's-lots-of-troubles-in-the-tunnels,” he said breathlessly, “gotta-go-now.”</p><p></p><p></p><p> That said, Nook took off like a race horse. The boy definitely has some orc in him. Theodyl struggled to keep up, after a while he couldn't even keep track of the paths they were taking. Nook kept looking back at him and laughing. It reminded him of his first year in the scouts. He was always the last to the chow line. Theodyl felt tempted to cheat, but he is too careful of his magic. He decided that he can't compete with a 10 year old kid born and raised in a dark maze of tunnels. He will simply have to take out his frustrations on the next thing he has to kill.</p><p></p><p> Nook vanished around a blind corner and was instantly replaced by the largest, ugliest rat he's ever seen. The thing hissed and spat at him, gouging the stone floor with it's claws. The floor sizzled where ever its saliva landed. Theodyl watched and tried to think of a way to kill it without getting bitten.</p><p> </p><p> “Hahahaha!” Nook laughed at Theodyl, “meet-Nana's-rat-Spikey! Don't-worry-she-won't-let-it-bite-you. Come-on-come-on-Nana-wants-to-meet-you!”</p><p></p><p> “Spikey, huh?” Theodyl mumbled as he waited for Nana's beast to try and eat him. </p><p> </p><p> Nana turned out to be a slightly stooped orc woman with a lazy eye. She lives in a well appointed pump room stocked with a large black cauldron and strange smelling things hanging from the walls. The Horrid Rat named Spikey is her familiar, she is an Adept. She seems very loving and patient with Nook, however, she looks at Theodyl like something to be scraped off the bottom of her sandals. Her opinion didn't change as Nook did his best to tell her about everything that's happened in the last hour. When the boy was done the only one making noise was the rat.</p><p> </p><p> “Ye owes mah boy four silvers.” Nana finally spoke, “I owes ye for mah boy's life, name yer price.” Her terse delivery hit Theodyl like a bucket of cold water. (She's obviously not a conversationalist.)</p><p></p><p> “The silver is under his belt, he's a fine boy.” Theodyl spoke carefully, “As for my price, I am ashamed to admit that I need help.” Nook cheered happily at the coins that suddenly appeared cool and gleaming in his pants.</p><p></p><p> “What you need? Nana is wise, too wise for flattery.” (Great, she doesn't like me.)</p><p></p><p> “I hunt a group of war-forged, they have kidnapped a gnomish woman from the City. I don't know where they could be, but they are secretive, they hate people and they smell of blood and death. I assume they came through the underground because no one has spotted them on the city streets.”</p><p></p><p> “You be more trouble than I thought.” Nana said as she sent Nook out of the chamber. (What the hell does that mean?)</p><p> </p><p> The Adept gave Theodyl directions to a series of pumping chambers deep below the city. A tribe of goblins specializing in smuggling and other tomfoolery has taken possession of the area. The recent troubles with creatures such as the Death Kiss have been attributed to them. Their actions may be displacing the beasts and sending them scurrying to other more populated places. Runners sent to deal with them have not returned and there are rumors of a noisy group of bruisers with glowing eyes patrolling the lower depths. Theodyl gave proper thanks to the Adept and gifted her a well used Wand of Prestidigitation for her patience. Nana frowned at him, but her eyes gleamed as she held it in her hands.</p><p> </p><p> “Debt be paid. You go now.” She said. The rat literally chased him out and down the tunnel.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="skullsmurfer, post: 2295612, member: 17151"] [b]Blood in the Sewers, Chapter 4[/b] The network of service, sewer, drainage, water tunnels that honeycomb the City of Sharn are a wonder. It is doubtful that any one person can know them all. Theodyl started out by looking for private paths, bolt holes, and escape routes. A well prepared man can travel most of Sharn unseen by any but the sewer rats. His research lead him to mapping out various networks. The city keeps records and maps up to a point, only the oft used tunnels and sewers remain. Various archives held more, much more useful information. The best knowledge came from the skulks and darklings who actually live in the dark corners of the city. There are entire communities of folk who have dropped out of Sharn proper and taken residence in the various spaces below. Of course, there are monsters too. Not dangerous people, but real monsters, abominations and the aberrations that serve them. A city map can tell you were to go, but a mangy goblin tunnel boy can tell you where not to get eaten. “Yer daydreamin' again Lad,” the beer stein whispered, “there be trouble ahead as sure as my pappy had a beard.” The dwarven spirit has an uncanny nose for trouble. Theodyl skulked ahead. As he moved, he gripped his harp with one hand and methodically checked and re-checked his weapons, leathers, and various other items with the other. An odd hissing and scraping caught his attention. He followed the sound to a barrel vault intersection. There are signs of battle. There is blood on the stone paved floor and there are crossbow bolts scattered about. The blood is fresh, and there are more droplets leading towards the left tunnel. Theodyl summoned his favored My-light spell. A pale violet globe of light formed just in front of him and moved ahead ten paces. Only he can see it or its light, it is perfect for this situation. The blood trail led to a crumpled goblin wearing a battered iron cap. A cross bow lays broken next to him. He is dead, torn up badly, but there is no blood. Theodyl examined the wounds carefully. The pattern and shape caught his eye, but he couldn't quite identify the creature. He could hear noise and someone cursing not far off. Still, he wants to know what he will be facing. “'tis from a Death Kiss Lad,” the beer stein said, recognizing the wounds, “a beholder thing that drinks blood. They be sneakier than eye-tyrants. The can shock ye like an eel too, it is best to kill'em from from a distance. Do not shame me and let it live.” The emotion in the spirit's voice convinced Theodyl. He has no love for the monsters that hunt below. He checked his gear one last time and sprinted towards the end of the tunnel. Theodyl drew an arrow from his quiver and knocked it on his harp. The bow shape isn't just for looks. He sighted the creature writhing along the ground. It looks like the thing has already seen its share of battle. The goblin could not have done all of that, those are sword slashes. It's bulbous middle floated about a foot high. It is wider than a man is tall and its tentacles are at least three times as long. It seems to bee tasting for a blood trail. There are mouths at the tips of its tentacles. Disgusting. Theodyl held his shot and tried to spot its prey. There is a large storm drain pipe along the side of the tunnel. It might serve as a ledge to a child or a small humanoid. With the Death Kiss so preoccupied with the blood on the ground, it is as good a place as any to hide. Theodyl sent the My-light globe just far enough ahead to confirm his notion. A shape hidden in the shadows gave him the answer he needed. “Careful Lad, they be cunning. It will double back soon.” the beer stein warned as the Death Kiss suddenly rose up and spun about in the air. The figure hiding on the ledge yelped loudly, the Death Kiss flung a long probing tentacle at the noise. Theodyl let fly his arrow with a musical twang. The alchemically treated arrow pierced the offending tentacle and flashed into flame. The Death Kiss turned towards Theodyl, but he was faster. Three more notes later, three arrows penetrated the rounded, blubbery center mass. Only one of these arrows burst into flame, but is was enough. The two mundane arrows sank deep into its eye. The Death Kiss shuddered, burst into a sudden electrically charged dance, and then finally lay still. “Excellent kill Lad,” the dwarven spirit cheered, “I couldn't have done it better me self! Yer startin' to make a good impression on me. Don't forget to have a drink, 'tis the only proper way to celebrate.” Theodyl cursed. The Death Kiss can be dangerous even as it dies. The electrical discharge knocked him on his backside. He worked hard to loosen the stiffness in his muscles. Something else might attack. He took a sip from his canteen and hurried towards whomever was hiding on that ledge. If they are wounded anything like the dead goblin, they need help sooner than later. As Theodyl hurried he saw a young orc-blooded boy fall to the ground and struggle to stand. Theodyl caught him before he collapsed. The Healer's kit he carries has a powdered styptic that will close the bleeding gashes. He also has plenty of bandages. If anything, the war taught him to be prepared. The kid moaned as he worked on his wounds; though he didn't wake. Theodyl fed him some water and then unwrapped a special treat. The Hero's Vigor, a square confection of magic, chocolate, gold dust, and hot peppers started to melt as soon as it hit the kid's mouth. The young half-orc sprang to his feet and started huffing and puffing while cursing like a sailor. His watering eyes shut tightly beneath heavy brows. His upturned nose, turned red and his nostrils flared. His mouth hung open and he breathed desperately over his tonge. Theodyl handed the kid his canteen and waited for him to recover. “Why-de-hell-didya-do-to-me-ya-manker-bastard?” The kid asked finally. He spoke so quickly, that he ran out of breath. “I saved your life,” Theodyl answered, “can you tell me what happened?” “Ye-gots-coin?” He asked just as quickly. Theodyl smiled at the kid. Even with all those bandages he is still pretty rambunctious. He snapped his fingers and a silver piece appeared in his hand. He deftly made the gleaming coin dance in between his fingers while the young half-orc licked his lips. He wiggled his fingers and the coin disappeared. He snapped his fingers again and four silver pieces suddenly appeared in between his fingers. “How-you-do-them-tricks?-Givme-I-want'em!” The kid reached out to the coins. “Now, now, I am paying for a story.” Theodyl said smoothly. “I will pay for information. Is it a deal?” The kid pursed his lips and wrinkled his brow. He shifted his stance wiping his flat nose with the back of his palm. Clearly the boy is versed in proper street etiquette. He sighed, perhaps imitating some adult in his life, and put out his hand. Theodyl shook on it. The words burst out of his mouth, pouring over his very noticeable protruding jaw. Theodyl listened intently while he tried to recover his arrows. Two of the projectiles were just fine. The flaming arrows were all but gone except for their iron tips. He had to dig into the disgusting creature's body for those. While he was at it, he also collected a sample of the beast and filled a glass container with some of its blood. He knows he read something about the blood of a Death Kiss somewhere. It might come in handy. The kid continued speaking as he worked. Theodyl sensed that his manic energy wasn't just a side effect of the candy. He can also feel the kid watching his every movement. He tried to pick out details as the boy rambled through his story. He will have the boy tell the story more than once and he will then question him further on those points he feels are pertinent. When the boy finally finished he stopped so abruptly, Theodyl was startled. “Knobby's-dead-isn't-he?” He blurted. “Yeah, kid...he's down that way. He fought hard, I can tell.” “My name is Nook!” The boy snapped angrily before he started to cry. Theodyl hugged the kid. He led him away before anything else tried to eat them. He really isn't used to children, but he remembers the things that always made him feel better when he was that age. Theodyl reached into one of his many pockets and drew out a handful of dried fruit. The kid sniffled and snorted while he ate. Theodyl waited him out. He's starting to think the kid is approaching the age of ten. That's when orcish types experience the explosive growth that makes them such a terror in their youth. A kid that age shouldn't have to experience such horrors. Theodyl was about to ask the boy where he lives when a rhythmic tapping got their attention. Nook scrambled to his feet and put his ear to one of the pipes. He drew a rock from his belt and tapped on the pipe. The tapping stopped and resumed in a new pattern in response to Nook. The boy tapped out a long series of patterns furrowing his brow in concentration. When he was done he looked around in a panic. “There's-lots-of-troubles-in-the-tunnels,” he said breathlessly, “gotta-go-now.” That said, Nook took off like a race horse. The boy definitely has some orc in him. Theodyl struggled to keep up, after a while he couldn't even keep track of the paths they were taking. Nook kept looking back at him and laughing. It reminded him of his first year in the scouts. He was always the last to the chow line. Theodyl felt tempted to cheat, but he is too careful of his magic. He decided that he can't compete with a 10 year old kid born and raised in a dark maze of tunnels. He will simply have to take out his frustrations on the next thing he has to kill. Nook vanished around a blind corner and was instantly replaced by the largest, ugliest rat he's ever seen. The thing hissed and spat at him, gouging the stone floor with it's claws. The floor sizzled where ever its saliva landed. Theodyl watched and tried to think of a way to kill it without getting bitten. “Hahahaha!” Nook laughed at Theodyl, “meet-Nana's-rat-Spikey! Don't-worry-she-won't-let-it-bite-you. Come-on-come-on-Nana-wants-to-meet-you!” “Spikey, huh?” Theodyl mumbled as he waited for Nana's beast to try and eat him. Nana turned out to be a slightly stooped orc woman with a lazy eye. She lives in a well appointed pump room stocked with a large black cauldron and strange smelling things hanging from the walls. The Horrid Rat named Spikey is her familiar, she is an Adept. She seems very loving and patient with Nook, however, she looks at Theodyl like something to be scraped off the bottom of her sandals. Her opinion didn't change as Nook did his best to tell her about everything that's happened in the last hour. When the boy was done the only one making noise was the rat. “Ye owes mah boy four silvers.” Nana finally spoke, “I owes ye for mah boy's life, name yer price.” Her terse delivery hit Theodyl like a bucket of cold water. (She's obviously not a conversationalist.) “The silver is under his belt, he's a fine boy.” Theodyl spoke carefully, “As for my price, I am ashamed to admit that I need help.” Nook cheered happily at the coins that suddenly appeared cool and gleaming in his pants. “What you need? Nana is wise, too wise for flattery.” (Great, she doesn't like me.) “I hunt a group of war-forged, they have kidnapped a gnomish woman from the City. I don't know where they could be, but they are secretive, they hate people and they smell of blood and death. I assume they came through the underground because no one has spotted them on the city streets.” “You be more trouble than I thought.” Nana said as she sent Nook out of the chamber. (What the hell does that mean?) The Adept gave Theodyl directions to a series of pumping chambers deep below the city. A tribe of goblins specializing in smuggling and other tomfoolery has taken possession of the area. The recent troubles with creatures such as the Death Kiss have been attributed to them. Their actions may be displacing the beasts and sending them scurrying to other more populated places. Runners sent to deal with them have not returned and there are rumors of a noisy group of bruisers with glowing eyes patrolling the lower depths. Theodyl gave proper thanks to the Adept and gifted her a well used Wand of Prestidigitation for her patience. Nana frowned at him, but her eyes gleamed as she held it in her hands. “Debt be paid. You go now.” She said. The rat literally chased him out and down the tunnel. [/QUOTE]
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