Arcanis: Gonnes, Sons, and Treasure Runs (COMPLETED)

[talien]

Isles of the Damned: Part 3b – White Gorilla Island

They stood in the entrance to the Skull’s mouth, near the two ornate, gear-heavy structure.

Beldin peered skeptically at the massive metal cylinders. “I don’t believe you.”

“It’s true!” said Kham, hands spread in a plea. “These cylinders store thousands of gallons of potions of flight. When I command the Skull, engines inside the cylinders distribute the potions to massive, wheezing bellows, where it is atomized and distributed via hoses to the nozzles on the outside of the craft.”

The Skull shuddered.

Sebastian knocked a knuckle against one of the cylinders. “Even if that were true, potions don’t work that way. You don’t simply spray them in a direction to create an effect. By that logic I could poor a healing potion over my head and be healed.”

“As a matter of fact, these two vats,” Kham pointed at the vats overhead, “store exactly that. The Skull showers healing potions on Zoltan’s townspeople after their battles.”

“But potions don’t work like that!” shouted Beldin.

Kham waved the pistol and the jaws of the Skull began to slowly open. Roaring wind tore through the opening.

Sebastian opened up his wings as they caught the air, snapping to his full wingspan. “I suppose if he created them as a form of oil instead…”

“What will happen to the Zaska clones?” Beldin hesitated at the opening. “To the children?”

“They’ll be dead,” said Sebastian without emotion. “Wraps the problem of Zaska and Sycorax up nicely, I think.”

Beldin just stared at him.

“Look, we don’t have a whole lot of time here!” Kham drew Talon and slashed one of the hoses that connected to the cylinders. A bluish liquid gushed from the hose. “Do you want to argue about Althares’ gifts or do you want to not get smashed to a pulp?”

Vlad waved his hand. “I’d like to not be smashed to a pulp, please.”

Kham turned the hose on Vlad. He immediately started floating towards the opening.

“This is ridiculous,” grumbled Beldin.

Kham sprayed Beldin next. The dwarf, arms crossed and beard dripping, slowly slipped sideways out of the mouth without changing his posture.

“Uh, how do I control where I’m going?” shouted Vlad over the roaring winds. Below them, Sycorax’s ziggurat looked like a tiny scale model.

Kham turned the hose on himself.

“I have no idea!” he shouted. Then he dove out of the Skull’s mouth into freefall.

 

[talien]

Isles of the Damned: Part 3c – White Gorilla Island

The Pyramid of Sycorax dominated the skyline of Gorilla City. It was, in fact, the tallest structure on the island, and it was visible from most anywhere except the dark heart of the jungle. It was made from large volcanic-stone blocks in a classic step-pyramid style. A set of stairs ran up from the base to a wide terrace near the apex of the Pyramid.

The stairs led to a large, ornate set of double doors, beneath an archway constructed of two enormous ivory tusks from some gargantuan beast. Two white gorillas stood guard in front of the doors, with a large gong just to the left of them.

Sebastian landed with a flap of his wings. The two white-furred gorillas beat their chests as he descended.

“I’d step out of the way if I were you.”

The gorillas looked at Sebastian, puzzled. Then they looked up. Someone was shouting above them.

“—aaaaaAAAAH!” A dwarf-shaped projectile smashed into the first gorilla. Vlad crashed into the second.

Kham landed atop the gong and leaped off of it to a soft landing. “That was great!” He ran a hand through his hair to adjust it after their freefall.

Vlad got to his feet, dusting himself off. “Yeah, great. We just alerted the whole place.”

“I think they know we’re coming,” said Beldin.

Inside the Pyramid, they descended a flight of stairs that opened into an antechamber. The walls were decorated with ornate carvings and pictograms, depicting a gorilla army led by a majestic human woman, subjugating crowds of cowering humans dressed in rags. The carvings were inlaid with precious gems from top to bottom.

They ran down the hall, only to be confronted by five gorillas. There were piles of bananas and dice on a nearby table.

The gorillas beat their chests in a challenge.

Kham took out the Nkisi n’kondi out of his haversack. Then he pushed in one of its metal bits.

“Ook! Ook!” said Kham. He pointed up the stairs, where the slow tumbling Skull was visible at the opening. “Ooga ook ookg or ooga OOK!”

The gorillas looked at each other and then, bellowing and screeching, leaped out of the room. They tore through double doors on the other side of the room.

“What did you tell them?” asked Beldin.

”That a giant skull is going to smash into this temple in a few minutes and if they want to fight about it, maybe we should all go a little deeper inside.”

“And what did they say in response?” Vlad took up a position next to the double doors, peering around the corner. “Never mind, I don’t think I want to know.”

As one, they charged into Sycorax’s throne room.

 

[talien]

Isles of the Damned: Part 3d – White Gorilla Island

The room took their breath away. Gold and precious gems were encrusted on every surface and carved bas-relief depictions of an idealized Gorilla City lined the walls and ceiling. The subjects in the depictions appeared very happy, as if their queen were extremely benevolent. An ornate throne rested on a raised platform within and covered braziers lit each corner of the room.

“What are you doing, fools?” An unearthly beautiful woman in flowing white robes, tall, raven-haired and imperious stood up from the throne. “Turn around and fight!”

The gorillas, wielding spears, did not hesitate to comply. Beldin and Vlad engaged them.

“Jenny!” shouted Kham. “Jenny, it’s all right. We’re not here to hurt you!”

“Did he just say we’re not here to hurt her?” asked Vlad.

Beldin brandished his axe. “I think so.”

Sebastian launched himself into the air and unleashed a blast of electrical energy from his fingertips. It arced between the rows of gorilla guards, sending them flying.

Sycorax turned to face Kham. “Zoltan? You’re pathetic. You’re a shadow of your former self. You’re even more pathetic because you continue to cling to the idea that you can retain your former glory. Those days are over!”

The apes quickly recovered. Vlad hacked one ape across the clavicle and it went down hard. Another smashed into him, the blow from its huge fists nearly dislodging his shield.

“Are you…” Kham squinted. “You’re WEARING the hook? Are you mad, woman? Its power…”

Sycorax, who had one arm behind her back, sighed. “I had hoped you wouldn’t see that.”

Beldin smashed one gorilla with his shield. When it doubled over, he hacked it sideways with Windcutter. Just as it went down, another gorilla took its place.

“It’s not hard,” sneered Sebastian. “Holding one arm behind your back isn’t exactly concealing it.”

“Fine,” shouted Sycorax. “Then I will show you my true form!” Her features melted away, and although no one else could see it, Sebastian gazed upon the cursed, wretched husk that had once been the beautiful Black Jenny Ramsey. He fell to the ground, gibbering at the sight.

Kham turned as an ape leaped upon him and fired the Leviathan Pistol. The ape disintegrated in mid-air. He stared at the Leviathan Pistol in disbelief. “Wow.”

Vlad finished off another gorilla and charged towards Sycorax. Beautiful once more, a cutlass appeared in her hand. “Your blood will taste especially sweet.”

She parried Grungronazharr and retaliated with a backwards slash of the hook attached to her left hand. He danced backwards to avoid being eviscerated.

Kham drew two more pistols and took aim at Sycorax. “Don’t hurt her!”

“Hurt HER?” Vlad parried as Sycorax’s cutlass bounced off his shield. “Tell her to not hurt ME!”

Beldin swiped at Sycorax with Windcutter, but she easily blocked it with the Leviathan Hook. “Even together, you are no match for Sycorax!”

Sycorax made good on her boast, pressing both warriors backwards as she parried and block, feinted and lunged. She held Beldin off with the Hook and Vlad with her cutlass.

“We just need the Hook!” snarled Vlad. “Beldin, if you can distract her…”

Beldin swept low with his axe, kicking Sycorax’s legs out from under her. She landed on her back with a thud.

Vlad held Grungronazharr over his head, taking aim at Sycorax’s wrist…

A scorching pain in Vlad’s weapon hand caused him to drop his blade. “What the…?”

“Don’t hurt her!” shouted Kham.

Sycorax screamed. Beldin stood panting over her with a bloody axe, the severed hook rolling across the floor before him.

Kham fell to his knees, tearing at his hair. “Noooo!”

Vlad picked up Grungronazharr, his hand dripping blood. “You…shot me?”

Sycorax’s form blew away like a sand sculpture in a windstorm. The mist trailed along the floor towards the back of the throne room.

“I knew it.” Beldin started to pursue. “She’s a vampire!”

Kham suddenly got back to his feet and walked over to Sebastian. “Beldin, let her go.”

“I’m not letting a vampire get away that easily…”

Vlad picked up the Leviathan Hook and advanced on Kham. “You SHOT me?”

Kham sighed. “We can argue about this all day. But in case you forgot, THERE’S A GIANT SKULL ABOUT TO CRASH INTO THIS PLACE!”

Beldin took one step forward towards Sycorax’s escape route and then turned around and returned to Kham’s side. “Fine.”

Vlad stood near Kham, unsure what to do next. “What the hell did you shoot me for?”

“You were going to kill the love of my life.”

“The love of your—“ was all Vlad got out before Kham touched the amulet at his throat and they disappeared with a flash.

A second later, Zoltan Zaska’s skull collided with Black Jenny Ramsey’s pyramid.

 

[talien]

Isles of the Damned: Part 4a – Crystal Lake Island

They gathered on the deck of the Naoke under the pale moonlight.

“So,” said Kham. “What’s the plan?”

Von Grebel glared at Kham. “I never agreed to help you.”

“Yeah, well, I never agreed to help you either. And if I recall correctly, the Leviathan Bell controls undead, right?”

The vampire paused. “What’s your point?”

“I mean, we could just force you to tell us what we want, right?”

Von Grebel crossed his arms.

“That’s what I thought,” said Kham. “Since we’re stuck with each other, maybe we should concentrate on getting out of here.”

The vampire muttered something.

“What was that?” asked Kham.

“You heard me.”

“'You don’t know how'?”

Vlad, who was staring out at the ocean, turned around. “What do you mean?”

Von Grebel sighed. “I don’t know as much bout Moab Cys’varion. Daen yakked incessantly about Zoltan’s Skull ship; he was afraid an attack could come at any time, especially after Zoltan retrieved a few of his cloned villagers. And he kept careful watch on Sycorax—“

“Black Jenny,” corrected Kham.

“SYCORAX,” von Grebel stubbornly emphasized, “who sacrificed her victims atop the highest point of her island. She was easy to spy on. But Moab…I’ve never seen him. He was the only one Daen respected, mainly because the elf thought about conquest as much as Daen did.”

Beldin slapped his forehead. “You forgot to mention he’s an elorii.”

“He barely resembles even that. Daen thought Moab’s dabbling in mutation was an utter waste of time and effort.”

“Dabbling in mutation, hmm?” asked Sebastian. “So he was sculpting the flesh of the living.”

“One would assume so,” said von Grebel. “Like I said, I’ve never actually seen him. I think he has a fortress somewhere hidden in the island itself. But if so, he never comes out. It’s probably due to his control over the Leviathan Spyglass.”

“And what does that do?” asked Vlad.

“I’ve only heard what Daen ranted about. The Spyglass can see anywhere he likes, and he can create gates to anywhere he sees.”

“Not anywhere,” added Sebastian, “or Moab would have escaped this place already.”

Von Grebel shrugged. “Point being, Moab doesn’t have to go anywhere he doesn’t want to.”

“So that leaves the question of how exactly we’re supposed to get this last artifact,” grumbled Beldin.

“The sun’s rising,” said Kham. “You’d better get out of sight. Hop into that little box of yours and I’ll hold you in my haversack.”

“I think not,” said von Grebel.

Skiz popped his head out of Kham’s haversack. “Seriously, boss, that guy creeps me out. I don’t want him in here with me.”

“Hush, Skiz.”

“But…”

“SHADDUP, I said.”

There was a strange sound: WHOOP-WHOOP-WHOOP. Three glowing concentric circles telescoped outwards on the deck of the Naoke, each larger than the first. Out of it stepped six hunched, mutated humans with mismatched and mottled flesh. Leading the charge was a slim elorii with bright blue hair.

“Jhondal!” shouted von Grebel before dispersing into Kham’s haversack. “Moab’s lieutenant!”

The elorii pointed his rapier at Kham. “Attack!”

Beldin slapped Windcutter in his open palm. “Looks like Moab’s coming to us.”

 

[talien]

Isles of the Damned: Part 4b – Crystal Lake Island

Sebastian launched himself into the air, trying to get a clear shot.

“Don’t use fire!” shouted Baldric. “Ye’ll destroy me ship!”

“I know, I know!” Sebastian shouted back.

Beldin rolled and hacked down one of the mutants. He came up behind another one that was advancing on Vlad. It didn’t see him…

The mutant tossed its hair, and a pair of eyes peered through the strands at him. They went wide and the mutant soldier spun just as Beldin’s axe came down for what would have been a fatal blow.

“They’ve got eyes in the backs of their heads!” shouted Beldin. “Literally!”

Vlad fended off a three-armed attack, kicking one of the mutants overboard. “That’s the least of our problems.”

Sebastian pointed at three of the mutants. “Magicus telum!”

Searing bolts of blue energy darted towards the mutants, only to fizzle as they struck.

“We are blessed by the Stone of Heavens!” shouted Jhondal. “Your mortal magic is no match for Moab!”

A resounding explosion caused the elorii to look down in shock at his gaping chest wound.

Through the hole, Kham lowered the Leviathan Pistol. He blew on the smoking barrel. “Who needs magic?”

Jhondal fell off the rail into the ocean.

The Naoke’s crew quickly dispatched the other mutants. Bright blue ichor was spattered everywhere.

”That wasn’t so bad,” said Vlad. He leaned over to catch his breath. “If that’s all he’s got…”

WHOOP-WHOOP-WHOOP.

Three two-headed giants stepped onto the deck.

“You were saying?” asked Beldin.

 

[talien]

Isles of the Damned: Part 4c – Crystal Lake Island

Complete chaos engulfed the Naoke. First it was the two-headed giants. A second later, a four-armed gorilla showed up. Then a huge leopard with tentacles grafted to its flesh and a wolverine with bony plates jutting from its forehead.

“We can’t take them all on at once!” Vlad parried the whip-crack of one of the leopard’s tentacles with his shield. “There’s too many!”

Beldin rolled beneath one of the giants and cut its leg out from under it. Its howl was cut off by Windcutter chopping through its throat. “Bah! I’ll take care of the giants, you take care of the rest!”

Sebastian pointed at the wolverine. “Demitte resisto!” Nothing happened.

“If that was supposed to do something, it didn’t!” Kham took aim at the wolverine and fired. A chunk of fur and flesh blew off the beast, but it kept coming at Vlad.

“I was assaying their weaknesses,” Sebastian said calmly from his position over the deck. “Watch: radius incensio!”

Three spiraling beams of fire sliced into the wolverine, engulfing it in flames. It was all Vlad could do to keep it on the other side of his shield.

One of the giants batted three sailors right off the deck with a sweep of its club.

Beldin hacked downward, splitting another giant’s foot in half. It swung clumsily at him and missed as he rolled out of the way, smashing into its remaining companion. The second giant fell overboard from the blow.

As the giant bent down to grab its foot, Beldin smacked it with the flat side of Windcutter, bowling it over off the deck’s railing.

He was about to turn on the wolverine when the huge gorilla grabbed him with all four of its arms.

Kham blurred into existence behind it. “I’ve got it!” He pointed one of his pistols and fired.

Instead of blastpowder, a hailstorm of multicolored crystals disintegrated the gorilla’s head. The headless body fell to the deck, twitching.

“When did you learn to do that?” asked Beldin.

“Behind you!” shouted Kham.

Tentacles snapped towards Beldin but were stopped short by ghostly jaws that clamped tight on them, holding the mutated leopard’s limbs at bay. It resorted to its mauling the dwarf instead, its three pairs of claws scratching at his shield.

“They’re immune to magic,” said Sebastian. “I can’t stop them all!”

Kham smirked. “I can.”

He blurred again sideways, far faster than he had ever walked between worlds in Carcosa. He appeared behind the leopard. Before it could turn to face him, a thicket of crystals appeared in the air and flensed the flesh from the creature’s right side. Its ribcage was bare of fur, revealing white bone beneath. Kham pointed and the creature’s corpse was shoved off deck by an invisible force.

Vlad finally turned the tables on the wolverine. He stabbed it through the throat, pinning it to the deck with Grungronazharr. After a minute of screeching and scrabbling, the mutated wolverine finally lay still.

Sebastian landed on the deck. “I think it’s time we had a talk about what exactly the Leviathan Pistol did to you Kham. You’re acting strange...”

WHOOP-WHOOP-WHOOP.

“Son of a BITCH!” shouted Vlad.

 

[talien]

Isles of the Damned: Part 4d – Crystal Lake Island

Moab’s wizard pointed his staff at Sebastian, unleashing a bolt of lightning. The dark-kin twisted, barely avoiding the bolt.

Sebastian strafed by with a blast of freezing cold, covering the Naoke in rime. Friends and foes alike dove to the side.

Vlad locked blades with an elorii with dusky gray skin and white hair. “You’re no match for my power, human dog!” he snarled. They separated and the elorii pointed his jeweled blade at Vlad.

Flames exploded out of the tip of the sword. Vlad held up Grungronazharr and the fire washed over him.

“What?” shouted the elorii. “Impossible!”

It was the last words he got out as Vlad thrust his blade through the elorii’s torso.

Beldin blocked the vicious hack of a falchion from a hulk of a man with straight black hair. He shouted with every strike, spittle flying from his lips.

A tough-looking woman with short blonde hair stood in the center of it all, sending supplications to Leviathan.

“Another cultist of Leviathan,” sighed Kham. “Just what we need.”

A twisted gnome with a red Mohawk tumbled up to him, crossbow at the ready.

“Wait a minute…” said the gnome. “I remember you! You’re that idiot I tried to kill in Freeport!”

Kham tried to track the gnome with the Leviathan Pistol. “Funny, you don’t ring a bell.”

“Rooster Tumblefoot! You don’t remember me? You were blitzed out of your mind on Ghoul Juice when that flapping idiot up there,” he jabbed a thumb in Sebastian’s direction, “melted me into slag!”

“Nope, don’t remember you.”

The gnome fired his crossbow but it went wide. “What? Aren’t you surprised I’m still alive?”

Kham kept tracking him with the pistol. “Not really.”

“Don’t you see how amazingly powerful Moab’s magic is?” The gnome was becoming visibly frustrated. He drew his short sword and advanced on Kham. “I mean, I was his one success with the Leviathan Spyglass…I managed to escape this crazy place! Then when I nearly died, it drew me back. Moab saved me from the brink of death.”

Rooster lunged with his blade, but Kham blurred sideways out of his field of view.

“Skin grafts take a LONG time! A lot of people died so I could live.” The gnome looked around. “You sure you don’t remember me?”

Kham was standing on the rigging above him. Kham’s eyes flashed from behind his lenses.

Rooster’s eyes rolled in his head. He collapsed to the deck, drool dripping from his slack jaw, his brain smashed from Kham's psychic attack.

“Sorry, nothing’s coming to mind.” Kham landed next to him and kicked Rooster’s dying body overboard.

“Perhaps Gaspar can help you with that!” shouted the older wizard, who was fond of repeating his own name.

Kham whirled and flew upwards, hovering over the deck. “Oh I don’t think…”

The val jerked as if he had been slapped. He hung limply in the air, a marionette abandoned by its owner.

It was a fleeting victory. The focus on Kham distracted Gaspar long enough so that Sebastian got behind him. Ice and sleet covered him, transforming the older wizard into an ice sculpture.

“You’ll pay for that!” shouted the priestess. “Leviathan, make these unbelievers pay for their transgressions!” She pointed at Sebastian and a gout of flames blasted down upon the dark-kin, dunking him into the ocean.

Seconds later, Grungronazharr jutted from the priestess’ torso. She looked down in shock.

Vlad kicked the woman off of his blade. Beldin was doing the same with the corpse of the barbarian that attacked him.

“Is that all of them?” asked Vlad.

“Not quite,” hissed a voice from everywhere and nowhere. “You have yet to deal with me.”

 

[talien]

Isles of the Damned: Part 4e – Crystal Lake Island

There was little evidence in Moab Cys’varion’s wretched form that he was once an elorii. His hair had long since fallen out and his pupiless eyes were pink. His flesh was splotchy white in patches, gray in others. He stood at the far end of the ship.

“I should be thankful,” Moab said in soft tones. “I had hoped to send my armies into Freeport. Instead I have sent them here and they have all failed. Or rather, they have achieved what I wished for them to accomplish.”

Beldin and Vlad stood resolute. “What’s that?” asked the dwarf as they advanced on him.

“They softened you up so that I may have you as experiments. You will make suitable replacements for my former adventuring companions. I need good warriors.”

Beldin circled around one side of the Naoke’s mainmast and Vlad around the other. Sailor and mutant bodies were littered everywhere.

“But for the moment, I think you will make quite a nice statue.” Moab pointed at Beldin. “Corporeus lapideus!”

A sparkling green beam struck the dwarf but it didn’t slow him. “That the best you got?”

Moab sneered. “Perhaps the former giant would like to become smaller: Resilio adstringo!”

The dwarf didn’t slow his stride.

Moab frowned but didn’t waste time on threats. He pointed at Vlad. “Polymorph alius!”

Nothing happened.

Beldin slapped Windcutter in an open palm. “This is going to be easier than I thought.”

“Eradico!”

A sparkling green ray struck Beldin square on the shoulder. A part of the dwarf’s body simply disappeared, taking a chunk out of the dwarf’s right upper forearm and part of his ribcage. For a moment there was no blood at all. Then his body gave out, pumping blood through the open cavity. Beldin clutched the wound and fell backwards.

“That should have killed you,” Moab said matter-of-factly.

Vlad almost reached him when Moab turned two palms towards him. “Magicus telum!”

Bolts of energy thudded into the Milandisian, but it didn’t stop him. He slashed at the former elorii’s head.

Moab drew a black sword, with a blade that reflected no light. He easily parried the blow.

“I’ve changed my mind,” Moab hissed over their locked blades. “You don’t deserve to be my minion. I’m going to feed you to my sword instead.”

“Pick on someone your own size!” shouted Sebastian, dripping seawater. “Magicus telum!”

Bolts of magical energy sliced into Moab. The elorii, unaffected, spun to face an opponent he thought eliminated.

“You! You were supposed to make the portal work! Instead we only were able to send Rooster through! You were bound by an oath of Sarish! Fulgur sagitta!”

Lightning stroked from his fingertips, and again Sebastian barely moved out of its path.

Vlad plunged Grungronazharr into Moab’s back. The elorii howled and spun to face his opponent.

“You think that mere blades can stop me?” Moab hunched over. Vlad took a step back. “I control the Stone of the Heavens!”

Moab’s form began to bulge and morph, as if he were a cake that had been baked for too long. “I will take all of the artifacts and use them to march on Freeport!”

Moab’s arms undulated as they turned into serpentine necks; his hands became draconic heads. Moab’s own head stretched and twined, and still more heads grew from the heaving torso.

“And no one can stop me!”

Moab’s torso spilled over itself, and four limbs jutted out of it. Scales covered his white flesh, turning it from pink to a dark red hue. Serpentine heads hissed and snapped at Vlad.

“He’s transformed into a pyrohydra!” shouted Sebastian. “We’ll never be able to stop him!”

The multi-headed shadow loomed over him. “A what?” shouted Vlad.

“It’s immune to fire. And Moab will heal faster than we can harm him!”

The Naoke groaned as the huge monstrosity continued to grow on its deck. Vlad caught a glimpse of Grungronazharr jutting from the pyrohydra’s torso.

“Grungronazharr is still in his flesh!” shouted Vlad. “I’m going to finish what I started!”

“Are you insane?” But Sebastian didn’t get anything else out. He unleashed another cone of cold upon the pyrohydra as he flew past to distract it.

Vlad pounded towards the bright red bulk of the thing, eyes focused on the hilt of his sword jutting out of the thing’s back. Several of the pyrohydra’s heads tracked him, their maws yawning with hellfire.

Vlade lunged onto the pyrohydra’s back, grabbing the hilt of his blade just as the mouths unleashed a blast of white-hot flames. The fire washed over the Milandisian warrior as he hung on to the expanding hydra by the hilt of Grungronazharr.

With a shout, he shoved the blade deeper into Moab’s changing body. He felt something burst beneath the flesh.

Then the body was shrinking, changing again, snapping back to the elorii’s wretched form. Vlad drew his blade and hopped backwards, landing on the deck of the Naoke once more.

Sebastian flapped down beside him. The remaining crew stuck their heads out.

“It’s over,” said the dark-kin. “You can come out now.”

“He seemed to think he knew you,” said Vlad. “What was that all about?”

Sebastian rifled through the dead elorii’s possessions. “I think he mistook me for another devil. And judging by that conversation, he didn’t make out on the deal.” He fished out the Leviathan Spyglass. “But what matters most is that we’ve now got all four artifacts.”

“What about Beldin?” asked Vlad, concerned.

“The dwarf? His body is merely a vessel. So long as his soulstone is intact, we can heal him.”

“Since when do you call Beldin ‘the dwarf’?” asked Vlad. He didn’t wait for an answer. “And where’s…”

There was a splash behind them as the spell that incapacitated Kham finally wore off, plunging him into the ocean.

“Never mind.”

 

[talien]

Isles of the Damned: Part 5a – R’lyeh

A low vibration the crew of the Naoke awake, growing in intensity as they scrambled to the deck.

“All hands!” shouted Baldric. “All hands on deck, ye mangy dogs! Move it!”

The cause of the alarm became evident as they sprinted on deck to the first red rays of the morning sun…a wave, nearly fort-feet high, was heading straight for them.

“I’ve got it,” said Beldin. He outstretched the hand that wore Cho Sun’s ring and focused.

The prow of the Naoke bit into the wave, launching a blast of spray that drenched them to their skin. The water lifted the bow and forced the ship skyward.

Still they kept climbing, the boat standing nearly on end as they made their way up, up, ever up. The last stars of the night sky were visible, and then the bow blocked them from view.

Still up they went, until the bow was above and behind, pushed farther back by the wave’s crest. And then they were over, the prow pushing through the top of the wave and down.

Beldin never lost his footing as the front of the ship crashed into the back of the wave, sending another torrent of water over him and below decks.

Then the sea calmed, the tidal wave passed. Ahead, the cause of the disturbance was plain: an island, one that hadn’t been there yesterday, sitting alone as the waves caused by its appearance extended outward like ripples fleeing a tossed stone.

Sebastian twisted the seawater out of their map, his wings and hair sopping wet. “That would be R’lyeh.”

 

[talien]

Isles of the Damned: Part 5b – R’lyeh

R’lyeh brought its own weather. When it appeared in the archipelago, the sunlight dimmed and the skies filled with rolling purple storm clouds that delivered a constant downpour as they approached the island. A thick, soupy fog poured off the waves, occluding the island and reducing visibility to a matter of yards.

Through the forbidding mists, hints of shapes were visible. The stony inclines of mountains, rugged and vast, lurked beneath the fog. At their peaks, crags suggested themselves like faces under a shroud.

They came upon a coastline of mingled mud, ooze, and weedy Cyclopean masonry which could be nothing less than the tangible substance of earth's supreme terror - the nightmare corpse-city of R'lyeh, that was built in measureless aeons behind history by the vast, loathsome shapes that seeped down from the dark stars.

Only as they approached did the scale become clear: the fearsome summits soared many hundreds of feet into the air and began almost at the waterline. They formed a high, unbroken wall around the island, a formidable gate around the treasures of R’lyeh.

Sebastian landed on the deck of the Naoke. “It’s difficult to tell with the fog, but about halfway up the cliff face is a hole gouged into the rock. It’s at least as big as the ship. There’s a dim red light coming from inside the cavern.”

The dark-kin whispered “inlumino!”

His fist glowed with a reddish light. Sebastian took to the air, and although he was no longer visible in the fog, the red light served as a beacon for his companions.

“Looks like we’ll have to climb it,” said Beldin. He dusted his hands, relishing the thought of pitting himself against a mountain, no matter how strange.

“Speak for yourself,” said Kham. He crouched and then launched himself skywards, disappearing into the mist.

Vlad, who was far less enthusiastic about climbing the mountain, exchanged glances with Beldin. “Something’s different about Kham. That Leviathan Pistol has changed him somehow.”

“And Sebastian too,” said the dwarf. “He seems…less human.”

They rowed from the Naoke to the cliffs.

They clambered slipperily up over titan oozy blocks that could have been no mortal staircase. The very sun of heaven seemed distorted when viewed through the polarizing miasma welling out from this sea-soaked perversion, and twisted menace and suspense lurked leeringly in those crazily elusive angles of carven rock where a second glance showed concavity after the first showed convexity.

“Is it just me, or do these handholds look strange?” asked Vlad.

“It’s not just you.” Beldin grunted with exertion above him. “They seem a little too well-placed to be natural. The nooks in the rock have been scratched out with stone.”

“Judging from the flecks of blood, fingernails,” added Vlad.

“Strong fingernails, then.”

They climbed on in silence, with Sebsatian’s beacon occasionally coming into focus, until they reached a zigzag path that led steeply but surely to a tunnel.

Vapur curled from the cave’s lip and a dim red light came from inside the cavern. In the shifting half-light of R’lyeh it looked like an open wound.

Sebastian and Kham landed. Sebastian looked the val up and down.

“Since when can you fly?” he asked.

“Since when can you?” asked Kham nonchalantly.

As they approached, the sanguine glow from inside the tunnel grew brighter. Ghostly groaning rattled the surrounding rocks.

The tunnel was roughly diamond-shaped, with coarse red walls.

“Looks like blood,” said Vlad.

Indeed, blood seemed to have drenched the interior long ago, which then congealed into hideous bubbles, boils, and spider web strands that stretched down from the cavern’s roof.

“There’s deep, black grooves in the rock that stretch the length of the tunnel,” said Beldin. “Almost as if something was trying to crawl its way out of here…”

“He tried hanging on, he did!” came a cackle from above. “But it didn’t work! The good lord threw him right through the mountain! What a howl he let out when the good lord done it! Scrambling and struggling!”

Beldin and Sebastian saw a swirling madcap figure: a tall, gangly man in a great cloak of multicolored patches and motley garments trimmed with yesterday’s silks, tattered grimy lace, and moth-eaten rabbit fur.

“Emperor Oswald!” said Beldin. “What are you doing here?”

“Who?” asked Kham.

“Oswald,” said Beldin. “The Beggar King of Freeport. I’d expect you to know him.”

“He tried to go against the good lord, and look where it got him!” shouted Oswald. “Ripped and chucked!”

Kham gave the odd man another look. “That’s not Oswald. That’s the blind old fool we met in Altheria. Kept rhyming and giving us riddles.”

Sebastian crossed his arms. “That looks like Oswald to me.”

“He looks like the blind guy to me,” said Vlad.

“Hey now!” said Oswald. “How’d yet get here, then? My map…ye found my map. Praise the sea and stars!”

“And just who are you, exactly?”

“I go by many names, but Harry will do if ye please. Old Harry’s worth more to ye than gold while ye stand on this rock!”

“And what of your blindness?” asked Vlad.

Harry shook his head. “Crazy is catching!” he chuckled. “I’ll help ye however I can, so long as ye guarantee me a berth in yer boat on the way home. Nothing fancy, ye understand, just a hammock to swing me old bones!”

Beldin shrugged. “I think we can offer you that much.”

“Good, good!” Harry peered into the tunnel. “I know these caverns like the veins in me hand!”

They journeyed onward, Harry in the lead. The walls started to get narrower and narrower, and the congealed blood drippings became as thick as cobwebs. They resorted to hacking their way through the tunnel.

Finally, the passageway became too tight to fit. Harry moved ahead, cackling and scrambling on all fours like a greased weasel.

“He left a lot of his wine in this rock, Leviathan did! And burns like brine, so the rock don’t want it! SO it keeps squeezing, squeezing, squeezing, til it turns into dust and blows away.” Harry jabbed a thumb in the direction they had come. “That’s the smoke ye see coming from the grand hole back there.”

“That’s great, Harry, but how do we fit through here?” asked Vlad.

“Surely, a bunch of hearties like yerselves have something stashed about ye that can get ye through this muddle!”

Sebastian began rummaging through one of his belt pouches. He pulled out the Leviathan Spyglass.

Harry’s eyes went wide. “Ye been nicking from the dead ones!”

Sebastian nodded. “This Spyglass has the power of transformation and the ability to open a gate anywhere. So let’s see if it will do the job here.” He opened the Spyglass as if to peer into the murky tunnel, one telescoping piece at a time.

As he did so, a three-ringed portal opened up ahead with a WHOOP-WHOOP-WHOOP.

Sebastian snapped the Leviathan Spyglass shut, and the three rings disappeared. Before them was a hollowed out tunnel, with great chunks of bloody stone simply missing.

The dark-kin stared down at the Spyglass with a rapturous gaze.

“Powerful trinkets ye have there,” said Harry, subdued. “Each one’s got a power of its own; they lets ye act a bit like the good lord, gives ye one of his powers.”

“Powerful indeed,” Sebastian said breathlessly.