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Anka Seth - The Rise of the Hydra (New Update April 19, 2007)
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<blockquote data-quote="Fiasco" data-source="post: 3462858" data-attributes="member: 15187"><p>While Gerard and Mortec questioned the wretch, Moxadder and Argonne sifted through the filthy nest. To their surprise they found items of value amongst the mess. Coins of various mintage glinted amongst the ordure and what at first appeared to be a pile of scrap turned out to three suits of dirty but high quality dwarven armour accompanied by assorted weaponry.</p><p></p><p>Disgusted with this naked display of avarice, Morgan pointedly turned his back on the fossickers and kept watch down the corridor. Tense and uneasy, Stravarius did the same in the other direction. </p><p></p><p>Questioning the human proved tedious and irritating. A miserable, self pitying creature, it took patient navigation through his numerous outbursts of tears, self recriminations and hand wringing misery to learn he was named Sneeful the Pious, an acolyte of Gerech. His tale was unreal and garbled, for he claimed to have come from a temple of Gerech many hundreds of miles distant, North of Riverglenn. Bored with the ordinary monastic routine he had wandered down to the lower levels of the temple where he wandered into a ‘chamber of stars’. He had little recollection of what happened next, except for making the horrid realisation that he was now in a very different temple. He had wandered randomly until falling afoul of the rat trolls who had captured him for their amusement and eventual feasting.</p><p></p><p>A scoffing Gerard would have dismissed the story out of hand had he not recalled the fragment of an ancient legend he had read in Leith’s Abbey. Though obscure, in the light of what Sneeful claimed Gerard now understood the text may have alluded to the ability of senior priests of Gerech to swiftly over travel great distances during the time of the Convocation. Calling Morgan over, he asked him to confer with the spirit of Valentin to confirm the substance of the story. </p><p></p><p>The Fastendian wrestled internally for a few long moments before curtly confirming the broad veracity of the claims. When pressed for further details his metal lips compressed stubbornly. Shaking his fearsome mask Morgan refused to divulge further information, stating regretfully that they were speaking of the most sacred mysteries of Gerech, not to be shared with heretical unbelievers. Valentin’s words, not his he amended apologetically.</p><p></p><p>Frustrated, Mortec glared first at Morgan and then Sneeful. To be on the verge of learning such a great and ancient secret only to be denied came close to causing him physical pain. Grinding his teeth he considered Sneeful’s demeanour. While the cringing and cowardice were certainly genuine, there was a hint of calculation behind the performance. The little snot knew more than he was letting one and the gnome itched to wring the truth out of him. </p><p></p><p>Mortec’s musings were interrupted by the decision of the others to continue exploring the tunnels. Staring Sneeful in the eye he told him to stay close and keep quiet. A futile command as it turned out for the whining complaints of the woe begotten acolyte continued unabated. </p><p></p><p>Their exploration bore unexpected fruit for in the furthest recess of the final tunnel they found a cluster of dwarves; bruised, battered and heavily bound. Sneeful seized upon the halt to collapse to the ground, rubbing his legs and groaning loudly. Kuruul ponderously lay down close to the acolyte, keeping a half slitted yellow eye on him. </p><p></p><p>Gerard hastened forward to cut the captives free of their bonds while Mortec conversed haltingly in Dwarven before shifting to Guernean when he learnt they were familiar with the language. The dwarves shared a similar tale to Sneeful; in as much they had stumbled into an abandoned temple of Gerech when seeking shelter from a storm. Their explorations had taken them deep inside the ancient building. They were a little uncertain of what had happened next and were surprised to hear that they were now a long way distant from the Kazakash mountains on the distant border of Guerney. </p><p></p><p>Finding the composure and obvious competence of the dwarves a welcome contrast to the irritating presence of Sneeful, the companions quickly proposed an alliance with them. While initially suspicious, the dwarves quickly warmed to their rescuers when reunited with their equipment from the rat troll’s nest. Further items were piled nearby and they were fully outfitted in short order. The dwarves introduced themselves as Rarut Key Mace, Rokana Silver Seeker, Hakay Vein Carver and Torgal the Witch Slayer. </p><p></p><p>Though not in the best of health, they were very keen to find a way out of the temple as quickly as possible. It was only when Mortec expounded on the dangers they faced that they reluctantly agreed to taking rest in order to regain their strength. </p><p></p><p>Once more the party returned to the entrance chamber to the temple, this time augmented by allies both wanted and not. A half day’s rest proved sufficient time for Torgal to call on Muhbelung to heal those who had toiled hard and also to restore his powers. In the same time, Rokana, noticing Argonne’s broken axe, offered to repair it with her portable forge. The woodsman gratefully accepted the offer and was mightily pleased to be armed with his favourite weapon once more. </p><p></p><p>Despite the relative safety of their surroundings the dwarves appeared uncomfortable resting, as if time were against them. Mortec and Gerard were able to glean that Rokana was a high ranking noble of her people and that she had been on her way to an important betrothal ceremony when they had fallen afoul of the temple. Spurred on by these worries they pressed the others to continue the exploration. The companions agreed. </p><p></p><p>Sharing tales of their experiences they returned to the room containing the noxious pool and came to stand before the slime encrusted double doors in the North wall. The companions looked grimly at each other and all conversation ceased. Argonne and Stravarius approached the foreboding entrance. Taking a deep breath they laid hands on the doors and began to push (causing Gerard to choke back bile at their seeming disregard of the filth they were touching). </p><p></p><p>With a damp groan the doors swung inward to reveal a large dining hall. Long tables slick with mould lined the chamber and a large number of figures sat before tarnished silver plates piled high with slime. As one the diners glanced up to stare hungrily at the new arrivals with their soulless white eyes. The companions’ horror was compounded when they saw a small pack of rat trolls busily feeding on the body of one of the acolytes. They looked up lazily from their grisly meal to take note of the adventurers as if to mark them down for dessert. </p><p></p><p>Argonne and Stravarius stood dumfounded for a long second as they took in the scene before acting in complete accord to drag the doors shut. The others fumbled desperately for their weapons while the grim expressions of the dwarves hardened to stone. Moxadder cocked his head and listened keenly for any sound that might be coming from the dining hall. Apart from the nervous movements of his companions he heard nothing. A slow minute passed with each second accompanied by a painful hammering in their chests. Spitting contemptuously, Argonne broke the tension.</p><p></p><p>“Bloody Gerechians, thah so daft thah couldn’t find t’arses using both hands. Tha’ve probably gone back to shovlin slime or the gods knaw what else robbish in t’gobs.”</p><p></p><p>“We should take advantage of that and fight them on our own terms”, said Morgan. “We open the doors and lure some of the rat trolls, shutting the rest out and keeping the odds in our favour.”</p><p></p><p>“You’re all mad”, whined Sneeful. “Who would be fool enough to be the lure…” his voice trailed off as a fit of paranoid fear seized him.</p><p></p><p>“I might be able to help with that” rasped an unexpected but familiar voice. Kuruul had decided to grace the conversation with his full attention and hence stood transformed into his humanoid aspect. His appearance caused a sensation, with Sneeful swooning into merciful (at least for the others) senselessness and the dwarves preparing to do battle with the strange goblin like entity. Several minutes were taken up in reassuring them and explaining the Barghest’s unique nature.</p><p></p><p>Eventually order was restored and Kuruul went on to explain that his magic would serve to lure some of the rat trolls to them. It would fall to the rest of the adventurers to secure the door and destroy the creatures. Moxadder suggested having a large fire lit in order to ensure the immolation of the trolls’ bodies.</p><p></p><p>While a small party was sent upstairs to fetch dry wood the others planned the specifics of the assault. The concept of making plans was a novel one for the Hydra and they all pitched in with enthusiasm. Moxadder and Rarut would stand beside one of the doors, positioned to bring down a troll from behind. Argonne would be by the other, ready to throw the magical net of Srcan they had found on the top level. Beside him would be Mortec, who would take care of any ghouls which might wander through. Stravarius, Gerard, Morgan and the rest of the dwarves would stand further back from the doors, to attract the attention of the trolls and to allow them to bring them down with ranged weapons. No-one asked or cared what Sneeful would do, an arrangement which suited him very well. On recovering his wits he crawled out of harm’s way to cower against a distant wall.</p><p></p><p>As Morgan stood with the rank of warriors facing the doors he surveyed the area of battle. Everyone was in their place and a healthy fire was burning ten feet back and to the right of the entrance. Kuruul moved up to stand before the doors, motioning for them to be opened. Something nagged at the Fastendian. Their plan seemed sound, but at this critical juncture it seemed that something had eluded them in their planning. He was about to say as much to Gerard when the doors were pushed open, revealing the nightmarish dining hall.</p><p></p><p>The scene was as before, with the Gerechians dining at the table while the rat trolls lurked to the back of the chamber. Kuruul strode into the doorway and then vanished, reappearing directly in front of the surprised trolls. Before they could react he began to sprint back to the doors. With shrill yips and hoots they followed, eager to bring down this tasty morsel. The Barghest was only narrowly in the lead when they passed through the doorway.</p><p></p><p>The carefully devised plan sprang into action. Moxadder reached out with a long arm and plunged a dagger deep into a passing rat trolls neck. Though it screamed in agony, it continued its charge at the cluster of people standing 40 feet beyond the doors. Rarut clipped another troll with his axe but is also continued its advance. On the other side of the door Argonne hurled his net. Unused to its cumbersome weight his timing was off and the trolls had already passed by when it hit the ground. Beside him Mortec gazed into the room at the nearby Gerechians who had stopped their ghastly feast to watch the battle. Calling on his dark Goddess he channelled her wrath into the room, cowing four of the diners. The rest reacted in fury, however, and tumbling back their chairs they charged en masse to join battle.</p><p></p><p>As Morgan braced for the attack of the five bounding rat trolls only scant yards away and took in the sight of the horde of undead about to enter, he suddenly came to the gut wrenching realisation of the flaw in their plan; no-one had been assigned to shut the doors!</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Fiasco, post: 3462858, member: 15187"] While Gerard and Mortec questioned the wretch, Moxadder and Argonne sifted through the filthy nest. To their surprise they found items of value amongst the mess. Coins of various mintage glinted amongst the ordure and what at first appeared to be a pile of scrap turned out to three suits of dirty but high quality dwarven armour accompanied by assorted weaponry. Disgusted with this naked display of avarice, Morgan pointedly turned his back on the fossickers and kept watch down the corridor. Tense and uneasy, Stravarius did the same in the other direction. Questioning the human proved tedious and irritating. A miserable, self pitying creature, it took patient navigation through his numerous outbursts of tears, self recriminations and hand wringing misery to learn he was named Sneeful the Pious, an acolyte of Gerech. His tale was unreal and garbled, for he claimed to have come from a temple of Gerech many hundreds of miles distant, North of Riverglenn. Bored with the ordinary monastic routine he had wandered down to the lower levels of the temple where he wandered into a ‘chamber of stars’. He had little recollection of what happened next, except for making the horrid realisation that he was now in a very different temple. He had wandered randomly until falling afoul of the rat trolls who had captured him for their amusement and eventual feasting. A scoffing Gerard would have dismissed the story out of hand had he not recalled the fragment of an ancient legend he had read in Leith’s Abbey. Though obscure, in the light of what Sneeful claimed Gerard now understood the text may have alluded to the ability of senior priests of Gerech to swiftly over travel great distances during the time of the Convocation. Calling Morgan over, he asked him to confer with the spirit of Valentin to confirm the substance of the story. The Fastendian wrestled internally for a few long moments before curtly confirming the broad veracity of the claims. When pressed for further details his metal lips compressed stubbornly. Shaking his fearsome mask Morgan refused to divulge further information, stating regretfully that they were speaking of the most sacred mysteries of Gerech, not to be shared with heretical unbelievers. Valentin’s words, not his he amended apologetically. Frustrated, Mortec glared first at Morgan and then Sneeful. To be on the verge of learning such a great and ancient secret only to be denied came close to causing him physical pain. Grinding his teeth he considered Sneeful’s demeanour. While the cringing and cowardice were certainly genuine, there was a hint of calculation behind the performance. The little snot knew more than he was letting one and the gnome itched to wring the truth out of him. Mortec’s musings were interrupted by the decision of the others to continue exploring the tunnels. Staring Sneeful in the eye he told him to stay close and keep quiet. A futile command as it turned out for the whining complaints of the woe begotten acolyte continued unabated. Their exploration bore unexpected fruit for in the furthest recess of the final tunnel they found a cluster of dwarves; bruised, battered and heavily bound. Sneeful seized upon the halt to collapse to the ground, rubbing his legs and groaning loudly. Kuruul ponderously lay down close to the acolyte, keeping a half slitted yellow eye on him. Gerard hastened forward to cut the captives free of their bonds while Mortec conversed haltingly in Dwarven before shifting to Guernean when he learnt they were familiar with the language. The dwarves shared a similar tale to Sneeful; in as much they had stumbled into an abandoned temple of Gerech when seeking shelter from a storm. Their explorations had taken them deep inside the ancient building. They were a little uncertain of what had happened next and were surprised to hear that they were now a long way distant from the Kazakash mountains on the distant border of Guerney. Finding the composure and obvious competence of the dwarves a welcome contrast to the irritating presence of Sneeful, the companions quickly proposed an alliance with them. While initially suspicious, the dwarves quickly warmed to their rescuers when reunited with their equipment from the rat troll’s nest. Further items were piled nearby and they were fully outfitted in short order. The dwarves introduced themselves as Rarut Key Mace, Rokana Silver Seeker, Hakay Vein Carver and Torgal the Witch Slayer. Though not in the best of health, they were very keen to find a way out of the temple as quickly as possible. It was only when Mortec expounded on the dangers they faced that they reluctantly agreed to taking rest in order to regain their strength. Once more the party returned to the entrance chamber to the temple, this time augmented by allies both wanted and not. A half day’s rest proved sufficient time for Torgal to call on Muhbelung to heal those who had toiled hard and also to restore his powers. In the same time, Rokana, noticing Argonne’s broken axe, offered to repair it with her portable forge. The woodsman gratefully accepted the offer and was mightily pleased to be armed with his favourite weapon once more. Despite the relative safety of their surroundings the dwarves appeared uncomfortable resting, as if time were against them. Mortec and Gerard were able to glean that Rokana was a high ranking noble of her people and that she had been on her way to an important betrothal ceremony when they had fallen afoul of the temple. Spurred on by these worries they pressed the others to continue the exploration. The companions agreed. Sharing tales of their experiences they returned to the room containing the noxious pool and came to stand before the slime encrusted double doors in the North wall. The companions looked grimly at each other and all conversation ceased. Argonne and Stravarius approached the foreboding entrance. Taking a deep breath they laid hands on the doors and began to push (causing Gerard to choke back bile at their seeming disregard of the filth they were touching). With a damp groan the doors swung inward to reveal a large dining hall. Long tables slick with mould lined the chamber and a large number of figures sat before tarnished silver plates piled high with slime. As one the diners glanced up to stare hungrily at the new arrivals with their soulless white eyes. The companions’ horror was compounded when they saw a small pack of rat trolls busily feeding on the body of one of the acolytes. They looked up lazily from their grisly meal to take note of the adventurers as if to mark them down for dessert. Argonne and Stravarius stood dumfounded for a long second as they took in the scene before acting in complete accord to drag the doors shut. The others fumbled desperately for their weapons while the grim expressions of the dwarves hardened to stone. Moxadder cocked his head and listened keenly for any sound that might be coming from the dining hall. Apart from the nervous movements of his companions he heard nothing. A slow minute passed with each second accompanied by a painful hammering in their chests. Spitting contemptuously, Argonne broke the tension. “Bloody Gerechians, thah so daft thah couldn’t find t’arses using both hands. Tha’ve probably gone back to shovlin slime or the gods knaw what else robbish in t’gobs.” “We should take advantage of that and fight them on our own terms”, said Morgan. “We open the doors and lure some of the rat trolls, shutting the rest out and keeping the odds in our favour.” “You’re all mad”, whined Sneeful. “Who would be fool enough to be the lure…” his voice trailed off as a fit of paranoid fear seized him. “I might be able to help with that” rasped an unexpected but familiar voice. Kuruul had decided to grace the conversation with his full attention and hence stood transformed into his humanoid aspect. His appearance caused a sensation, with Sneeful swooning into merciful (at least for the others) senselessness and the dwarves preparing to do battle with the strange goblin like entity. Several minutes were taken up in reassuring them and explaining the Barghest’s unique nature. Eventually order was restored and Kuruul went on to explain that his magic would serve to lure some of the rat trolls to them. It would fall to the rest of the adventurers to secure the door and destroy the creatures. Moxadder suggested having a large fire lit in order to ensure the immolation of the trolls’ bodies. While a small party was sent upstairs to fetch dry wood the others planned the specifics of the assault. The concept of making plans was a novel one for the Hydra and they all pitched in with enthusiasm. Moxadder and Rarut would stand beside one of the doors, positioned to bring down a troll from behind. Argonne would be by the other, ready to throw the magical net of Srcan they had found on the top level. Beside him would be Mortec, who would take care of any ghouls which might wander through. Stravarius, Gerard, Morgan and the rest of the dwarves would stand further back from the doors, to attract the attention of the trolls and to allow them to bring them down with ranged weapons. No-one asked or cared what Sneeful would do, an arrangement which suited him very well. On recovering his wits he crawled out of harm’s way to cower against a distant wall. As Morgan stood with the rank of warriors facing the doors he surveyed the area of battle. Everyone was in their place and a healthy fire was burning ten feet back and to the right of the entrance. Kuruul moved up to stand before the doors, motioning for them to be opened. Something nagged at the Fastendian. Their plan seemed sound, but at this critical juncture it seemed that something had eluded them in their planning. He was about to say as much to Gerard when the doors were pushed open, revealing the nightmarish dining hall. The scene was as before, with the Gerechians dining at the table while the rat trolls lurked to the back of the chamber. Kuruul strode into the doorway and then vanished, reappearing directly in front of the surprised trolls. Before they could react he began to sprint back to the doors. With shrill yips and hoots they followed, eager to bring down this tasty morsel. The Barghest was only narrowly in the lead when they passed through the doorway. The carefully devised plan sprang into action. Moxadder reached out with a long arm and plunged a dagger deep into a passing rat trolls neck. Though it screamed in agony, it continued its charge at the cluster of people standing 40 feet beyond the doors. Rarut clipped another troll with his axe but is also continued its advance. On the other side of the door Argonne hurled his net. Unused to its cumbersome weight his timing was off and the trolls had already passed by when it hit the ground. Beside him Mortec gazed into the room at the nearby Gerechians who had stopped their ghastly feast to watch the battle. Calling on his dark Goddess he channelled her wrath into the room, cowing four of the diners. The rest reacted in fury, however, and tumbling back their chairs they charged en masse to join battle. As Morgan braced for the attack of the five bounding rat trolls only scant yards away and took in the sight of the horde of undead about to enter, he suddenly came to the gut wrenching realisation of the flaw in their plan; no-one had been assigned to shut the doors! [/QUOTE]
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