Yes, things do get a bit dicie from here on. I'd been communicating with some of the others on the side about how I was playing Rhys and their, from my perspective, awsome combat capabilities. My failure to affect the ghosts was a good point to change how I played him. The help I got from the peanut gallery was most appreciated
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The VOIDRUNNER'S CODEX is coming! Explore new worlds, fight oppressive empires, fend off fearsome aliens, and wield deadly psionics with this comprehensive boxed set expansion for 5E and A5E!
DM Brainiac's Prison of the Firebringer (Updated 12/21/05)
- Thread starter ltclnlbrain
- Start date
ltclnlbrain
First Post
Chapter 10 will be up hopefully later this afternoon or tomorrow. Here is a small preview:
The very first cut scene! See what the villains are up to while the PCs invade their stronghold!
Some exploration and discussion. (Hey, they can't all be winners.)
And an encounter with some slaadi!
The very first cut scene! See what the villains are up to while the PCs invade their stronghold!
Some exploration and discussion. (Hey, they can't all be winners.)
And an encounter with some slaadi!
ltclnlbrain
First Post
Friendly neighborhood *bump*. 
Okay, so I haven't had much time lately to work on the story. But I assure you something will be up by the end of the week.
Okay, so I haven't had much time lately to work on the story. But I assure you something will be up by the end of the week.
ltclnlbrain
First Post
Good things are worth waiting for. This one took me awhile, but it was fun to write.
Chapter 10
“I must say, Allanon, you make a most attractive woman,” said Grundar, chuckling.
"Well, don't get used to it Grundar,” Allanon replied haughtily. “I'm not planning on staying this way...despite how interesting this form may be."
Following the fight with the ghosts, the party had decided to find a safe place where they could rest and recover the constitution they had lost to the undead’s chill rays, as well as their spells. Descending the stairs at the end of the kitchens, they passed through a door that had been rusted shut into what appeared to have once been a barracks. Ruined wooden furniture and a half-dozen armored, human-sized skeletons littered the floor, and a large, long-limbed skeleton blackened by fire occupied the center of the chamber, remnants of the ancient battle between the Selskaryn and the horde of Harska Thaug. Despite the grisly accoutrements, there was plenty of room for all of them to roll out their bedrolls, and the fact that the door had been stuck suggested that the Acolytes had not been in this room and would not expect to find any adventurers camping out there.
The group was running low on supplies, and they needed to trade some of the loot they had gathered so far for some new items, so Terenon had volunteered to teleport to town to do the shopping. However, as he had only prepared one teleport spell this day, he would have to wait until the next morning to return. He had opted to travel to Waterdeep instead of Silverymoon in case Thornridge or other Acolyte spies were about.
Now, as the rest of the group prepared their camp, Allanon shifted uncomfortably against the far wall, trying to get accustomed to her new physique. She lifted her breasts with her hands, then dropped them, wincing at the sensation it caused. “It’s rather disturbing the way these things jiggle about every time I move,” she said. “It would have been nice if the surge had provided me with something more supportive of my new features.”
Gillian shrugged as she wrapped up her spiked chain and stowed it within easy reach of her bedroll. “I’d offer you some of my undergarments, but I’m afraid they’re a mite bit too small for a human,” she said apologetically.
“Maybe Terenon will get you a new wardrobe while he’s in town,” remarked Rhys.
“Terenon? Please,” huffed Allanon. “That man has no sense of fashion. Come on, brown robes? Who wears brown these days? Tacky.”
“Do you boogers plan on shuttin’ up any time soon?” asked Berek grumpily, rolling over in his bedroll. “I’m tryin’ to get me some shuteye here!”
“The dwarf has the right idea,” said Rhys. “We need our rest if we plan on taking on the Acolytes tomorrow. We don’t want to be any less than fully prepared when we encounter them.” The others agreed, and after posting watches, they were soon asleep.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Three cloaked figures crowded around a large silver mirror. Two were human: a slender woman wearing a noble's garb of gray and pearl, and a man with a shaven head wearing robes of iridescent green. The third figure looked like a rust-skinned dwarf with a scraggly gray beard and glowing red eyes. The figures peered intently into the mirror, which depicted a strange scene: a human wizard shopping at an apothecary in Waterdeep.
"This doesn't make any sense," said the woman. "Where are the five who travel with him? Why have they not come down yet?"
"They can't be far, Degradzel," the dwarf-like figure hissed. "They defeated those fool fomorians, but they may have taken to much damage and were forced to retreat and lick their wounds. Either that, or the Selskaryn ghosts drove them off. They will be back, though, that I can assure you. At least it gives us some more time to prepare."
"More preparations, Durzhul?" the bald man asked imperiously, a menacing edge to his voice. "Your preparations did not aid us much last time. You prepared Osterel's ambush, and they overcame that. You prepared Moskogg and Varra for their assault should the ambush fail, and they slaughtered the entire barracks complex without breaking a sweat. The rank and file of the Hidden Flame are nothing to me, but they will be here soon, and no manner of preparation will help."
Durzhul cringed at the verbal assault, and bowed in obeisance to the man. "My apologies, High Conflagration. Terenon has proven more wily and powerful than Thornridge said he would be. Our minions continue to scour the countryside for the last mage we need to undo the ritual of binding, but this man is still our most immediate hope. If his companions can be eliminated and his will subverted, the Firebringer can be free at last."
The High Conflagration glared at Durzhul. "Only a fool would lead his enemies directly to his hiding place. The only reason I have allowed this to go so far is because time is running short. Acessiwal's might grows by the day, and Bazim-Gorag may be the only one who can ward off his imminent assault. The Zhentarim won't commit their troops to us until they have proof of the Firebringer's freedom. Continue your efforts to capture this mage: it may be the only chance we have. Have Xorfilstaarg’s patrol guard the teleportation circle on this level, in case they come that way."
Durzhul bowed once more. "As you wish, High Conflagration."
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Wakey-Wakey-Eggs-and-Bakey," Berek muttered as he wanders about the room, pausing now and again to kick a forgotten bone or rock. Around him, the others were beginning to stir from their night’s rest. Grundar had met Terenon in the courtyard a short while ago, and they were busy doling out the goods he had purchased and preparing a light breakfast. "Remind me again," the dwarf said distantly as he paces about, "why you all are so set on wiping these giants out?"
"It's not so much stopping some giants,” said Terenon, “as it is preventing a Slaad Lord from being released and wreaking havoc on the world."
“Ah,” said Berek, perking up at the mention of the slaad...though this new interest quickly gave way to confusion; his brow furrowed over with wrinkles. "Now might be a good time to ask: what's a slaad? I gather they're bad, what with you wanting to kill the prince one or whatever, but other than that I'm a bit in a dark about their nature."
Terenon sighed deeply before beginning. "Slaadi are froglike creatures who dwell on the outer plane of Limbo. They are masters of chaos. There are different varieties, which are designated by the color of their skin. Red are inherently weaker than the blues, and blues are weaker than green. Grays are the most powerful. They tend to heal quickly and are resistant to various forms of energy. A bite from a slaad can inflict a disease that will cause you to change into one. They also have abilities that mimic arcane magic. All in all pretty nasty beings."
“Uh huh. Big, soft frogs to squish. Shouldn’t be too much of a problem,” the dwarf said, hefting his maul. “Shall we get goin’, then?”
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
The party left the barracks and moved to explore the rest of this section of the dungeon, which seemed to be untouched by the Acolytes. Passing through a room with a dry fountain, they entered what seemed to be a small dungeon. Six locked and stuck stone doors led to cells that were mostly empty. One cell however, contained a skeleton clad in a gleaming breastplate and tattered adventurer's garb, with a sword apparently lying under its body.
Terenon examined the room with disgust. He knew that such places were necessary to maintain order in a city, but it still was unsettling to be in such a place. He also found it odd to see someone thrown into a prison, but still have his weapon and armor. The mage spoke a minor incantation to allow him to see magical auras, and the sword and breastplate began to glow.
“I’ll get them,” said Grundar, activating his ring of blinking. He passed through the door, only to see a skeletal creature crouched at it, beneath the viewport. Its rib cage was filled with horrid, writhing viscera. The creature's tongue was its most noteworthy feature--long, cartilaginous, and clawed. The other skeleton also animated and stood up and drew the sword, a clawed tongue hanging from its mouth.
The creatures lashed out at Grundar with their tongues, but the elf phased into the Ethereal Plane right before the tongues would have connected, and they passed through air instead. Alerting the others to the presence of the undead, Grundar dropped to a crouch and performed a barrel roll out through the walls of the cell and out of harm's way. The creatures began to bang on the stone door, but they could not escape the cell.
“Ugh, I hate undead,” he remarked. “Those nasty tongues don't look clean at all.”
“We can come back for those items later,” said Terenon. “Let’s continue exploring.”
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Leaving the undead creatures behind, the adventurers exited back into the hallway and headed to the room to the east. More signs of ancient battle were evident here. Two long-limbed, ogre-sized skeletons lied in blackened circles in the center of the room. To the east, a sturdy iron door hung twisted from its hinges, revealing a chamber that seemed to be filled with a clutter of weapons and armor. The arms and equipment were too rusted and battered to be serviceable, though.
The party went through a door to the south into a long room lined with four storage chambers. The floor of the chambers was fifteen feet deeper than the hallway outside. The hallway and the four storage rooms are finished in crumbling brick. It looked like the floor of each storage room was covered with soggy grain.
They seemed to have reached a dead end. Grundar began to search along the walls for a possible secret exit while Rhys and Terenon moved to inspect the grain. "What kind of grain would remain moist when metal weapons would rust?” mused Rhys. “Could it be grain liquor, perhaps?”
Terenon shrugged. ”I had the same thought about the grain, especially when you look at all the skeletons about. If the liquid was spirits, I'm sure we would have noticed its smell. Whatever it is, best to leave it alone." He began to turn away, but Rhys stopped him with a glance.
“There is something else that has been gnawing at me, Terenon,” the priest said softly. “You’ve deduced that the Acolytes want to use you for the ceremony to free their lord. Why did they not choose an easier victim? Our enemies seem to be taking a grave risk to their operation by letting us get this far. If they’ve been watching us, they’ve missed at least two excellent chances to take us out while we were weak. They may be more fools than they are zealots”
"As far as the ceremony goes, we have only the information of Osterel to work from,” replied Terenon. “True, they need a mage of a particular moral bent, but is that all that is necessary? Osterel was only a lowly minion for the true powers behind this cabal. I doubt she possessed the full knowledge of what the ritual entailed. For whatever reason, they seek me, or somebody like me. Could be my blood, or mind, or soul. I don't know enough to answer with any certainty. I don't believe the ones who are masterminding this event are fools or zealots. They truly believe they can control the Slaad Lord, and I have no reason to believe otherwise. The only thing I do know is they must be stopped. If we have to stumble blindly for a time, I see no alternative."
Rhys frowned, obviously still worried, but before he could say anything Allanon approached the two. “Grundar’s found a secret door at the end of the hall,” she said. “We should keep moving.” Nodding assent, they followed behind her.
The secret door opened up into a short hallway with a flight of stairs leading down. The hall ended at another secret door that opened up into another room. A strange sense of hushed power seemed to hang over this octagonal room. Its only feature was a twenty-foot-diameter well that occupied the center of the chamber. Its sides were finished in glossy black tile flecked with tiny chips of glittering white. Bright, blue-white motes of light drifted lazily within the well, reflecting off the white flecks in the walls. The dark shaft descended quite a distance--in fact, its bottom was not visible at all. Two passageways offered egress to the south and the west.
“What do you think this is?” asked Gillian.
“A perfect place to cast arcane eye,” replied Terenon, following words with actions. The arcane eye floated down the well, the motes of light providing illumination all the way down. About thirty feet down, a small iron door was set into the east wall of the shaft; a large padlock was attached to it. Thirty feet further down at the bottom of the shaft lay a round chamber (bell-shaped in cross-section) about fifty feet in diameter and almost as tall. Wayward motes of light from the shaft drifted through the air of the room.
The eye floated back up the shaft and went down the west hallway, passing by a few doors to the south. It reached an intersection and headed north through a gilded archway into a long rectangular room. Three tall pillars chiseled from red marble supported the ceiling of this magnificent hall. Smokeless torches in sconces illuminated the scene. The walls were made of glossy gray stone cut in geometric patterns, and the triple-vaulted ceiling rose twenty-five feet overhead. Double doors of bronze offered egress to the north and west. Through the north doors, the eye saw a room with walls of black granite and a circle of gleaming silver inscribed on the floor, similar to the secret room on the floor above.
Three hulking, froglike creatures stood watch in this chamber. Two were blue, with sicklelike blades of bone sprouting from their forearms, while the third was a mottled green color with a huge, pale belly. The green creature was enormous, towering even over its two companions.
Dismissing the sensor, Terenon related his findings to his companions. “This may be a good chance to charm the slaadi and pump them for information. I’ll sneak in invisibly and try to catch them all in a chained charm spell. If it doesn’t work, I’ll call out, and that will be your cue to attack.”
“This time, Berek, wait for him to raise the alarm before charging in,” Grundar said. Berek *harrumphed* angrily, but said nothing.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Xorfilstaarg grumbled to himself as he kept watch on the teleportation circle. Behind him the two blue slaadi were arguing with each other and taking turns slicing off portions of their anatomy, only to have them grow back a few seconds later. Slaadi were creatures of chaos, definitely not suited to staying in one place for long periods of time, but Flame Lord Durzhul had ordered him to watch this intersection. No matter which way the adventurers came in, they would have had to pass through here; the enormous green slaad only hoped they would show up soon so that his boredom would be alleviated.
Xorfilstaarg did not notice Terenon’s sudden arrival until he had completed his spell of charming. The slaad blinked in confusion; he knew a friend was close by, but could not see him. He concentrated for a few moments so that his vision would pierce through any invisibility, and then turned to see the mage hovering in the air. “Hail, friend,” the green slaad croaked in a burbling voice. What are you doing way up there? What business have you here?"
Terenon dismissed his invisibility and smirked. "My friends and I are here to aid in clearing this place of traitors. It has come to my attention that some here would not like to see the glorious Firebringer loosed from his prison. I have come to recruit you to aid me." The mage yelled back to the others that he had found three friends to help them, and the rest of the group soon joined him.
The green slaad looked a bit taken aback. He looked to his two blue slaad allies, then back to Terenon, suspicion evident on his face. "Flame Lord Durzhul told us to be ready for a group matching your description. He told us to slay the lot of you. Why should we believe the words you speak now over those of our superior?"
The mage looked at the slaad with a stern face. "Flame Lord Durzhul is one of the traitorous lot. He spreads lies to further his agenda. Look into your heart. What does it tell you? I am here to fulfill the promise of releasing the Slaad Prince. I can't do that while those who wish otherwise work against me. Durzhul vies for political power. He issues orders to you to seal my death and secure his place among the Acolytes of the Flame. I will not allow this to happen. His agents are everywhere here. They already are moving to thwart the ritual. You must help me to eliminate Durzhul and his minions, or all is lost and the Firebringer will rot in his prison."
Xorfilstaarg blinked twice before letting out a hearty laugh. The two blue slaadi joined in. "Durzhul's agents? You mean those two whiny reds that that attend to his every beck and call? I scarcely believe they could find a githzerai in Limbo. And I doubt that Flame Lord Durzhul would turn traitor on us. After all, he is the one who discovered the Rite of Unbinding, not to mention he knows better than to defy the High Conflagration's will. No, I don't think I'll be helping you today. Seems to me the best course of action would be to turn you over to Durzhul and let him decide your fate. Now you can come with me peacefully or we can do it the hard way."
He flexed his enormous muscles to emphasize his point, and the blue slaadi glared balefully at the adventurers. Berek smiled grimly and tightened his grip on his maul. “Time to do it the hard way,” he said.
Chapter 10
“I must say, Allanon, you make a most attractive woman,” said Grundar, chuckling.
"Well, don't get used to it Grundar,” Allanon replied haughtily. “I'm not planning on staying this way...despite how interesting this form may be."
Following the fight with the ghosts, the party had decided to find a safe place where they could rest and recover the constitution they had lost to the undead’s chill rays, as well as their spells. Descending the stairs at the end of the kitchens, they passed through a door that had been rusted shut into what appeared to have once been a barracks. Ruined wooden furniture and a half-dozen armored, human-sized skeletons littered the floor, and a large, long-limbed skeleton blackened by fire occupied the center of the chamber, remnants of the ancient battle between the Selskaryn and the horde of Harska Thaug. Despite the grisly accoutrements, there was plenty of room for all of them to roll out their bedrolls, and the fact that the door had been stuck suggested that the Acolytes had not been in this room and would not expect to find any adventurers camping out there.
The group was running low on supplies, and they needed to trade some of the loot they had gathered so far for some new items, so Terenon had volunteered to teleport to town to do the shopping. However, as he had only prepared one teleport spell this day, he would have to wait until the next morning to return. He had opted to travel to Waterdeep instead of Silverymoon in case Thornridge or other Acolyte spies were about.
Now, as the rest of the group prepared their camp, Allanon shifted uncomfortably against the far wall, trying to get accustomed to her new physique. She lifted her breasts with her hands, then dropped them, wincing at the sensation it caused. “It’s rather disturbing the way these things jiggle about every time I move,” she said. “It would have been nice if the surge had provided me with something more supportive of my new features.”
Gillian shrugged as she wrapped up her spiked chain and stowed it within easy reach of her bedroll. “I’d offer you some of my undergarments, but I’m afraid they’re a mite bit too small for a human,” she said apologetically.
“Maybe Terenon will get you a new wardrobe while he’s in town,” remarked Rhys.
“Terenon? Please,” huffed Allanon. “That man has no sense of fashion. Come on, brown robes? Who wears brown these days? Tacky.”
“Do you boogers plan on shuttin’ up any time soon?” asked Berek grumpily, rolling over in his bedroll. “I’m tryin’ to get me some shuteye here!”
“The dwarf has the right idea,” said Rhys. “We need our rest if we plan on taking on the Acolytes tomorrow. We don’t want to be any less than fully prepared when we encounter them.” The others agreed, and after posting watches, they were soon asleep.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Three cloaked figures crowded around a large silver mirror. Two were human: a slender woman wearing a noble's garb of gray and pearl, and a man with a shaven head wearing robes of iridescent green. The third figure looked like a rust-skinned dwarf with a scraggly gray beard and glowing red eyes. The figures peered intently into the mirror, which depicted a strange scene: a human wizard shopping at an apothecary in Waterdeep.
"This doesn't make any sense," said the woman. "Where are the five who travel with him? Why have they not come down yet?"
"They can't be far, Degradzel," the dwarf-like figure hissed. "They defeated those fool fomorians, but they may have taken to much damage and were forced to retreat and lick their wounds. Either that, or the Selskaryn ghosts drove them off. They will be back, though, that I can assure you. At least it gives us some more time to prepare."
"More preparations, Durzhul?" the bald man asked imperiously, a menacing edge to his voice. "Your preparations did not aid us much last time. You prepared Osterel's ambush, and they overcame that. You prepared Moskogg and Varra for their assault should the ambush fail, and they slaughtered the entire barracks complex without breaking a sweat. The rank and file of the Hidden Flame are nothing to me, but they will be here soon, and no manner of preparation will help."
Durzhul cringed at the verbal assault, and bowed in obeisance to the man. "My apologies, High Conflagration. Terenon has proven more wily and powerful than Thornridge said he would be. Our minions continue to scour the countryside for the last mage we need to undo the ritual of binding, but this man is still our most immediate hope. If his companions can be eliminated and his will subverted, the Firebringer can be free at last."
The High Conflagration glared at Durzhul. "Only a fool would lead his enemies directly to his hiding place. The only reason I have allowed this to go so far is because time is running short. Acessiwal's might grows by the day, and Bazim-Gorag may be the only one who can ward off his imminent assault. The Zhentarim won't commit their troops to us until they have proof of the Firebringer's freedom. Continue your efforts to capture this mage: it may be the only chance we have. Have Xorfilstaarg’s patrol guard the teleportation circle on this level, in case they come that way."
Durzhul bowed once more. "As you wish, High Conflagration."
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Wakey-Wakey-Eggs-and-Bakey," Berek muttered as he wanders about the room, pausing now and again to kick a forgotten bone or rock. Around him, the others were beginning to stir from their night’s rest. Grundar had met Terenon in the courtyard a short while ago, and they were busy doling out the goods he had purchased and preparing a light breakfast. "Remind me again," the dwarf said distantly as he paces about, "why you all are so set on wiping these giants out?"
"It's not so much stopping some giants,” said Terenon, “as it is preventing a Slaad Lord from being released and wreaking havoc on the world."
“Ah,” said Berek, perking up at the mention of the slaad...though this new interest quickly gave way to confusion; his brow furrowed over with wrinkles. "Now might be a good time to ask: what's a slaad? I gather they're bad, what with you wanting to kill the prince one or whatever, but other than that I'm a bit in a dark about their nature."
Terenon sighed deeply before beginning. "Slaadi are froglike creatures who dwell on the outer plane of Limbo. They are masters of chaos. There are different varieties, which are designated by the color of their skin. Red are inherently weaker than the blues, and blues are weaker than green. Grays are the most powerful. They tend to heal quickly and are resistant to various forms of energy. A bite from a slaad can inflict a disease that will cause you to change into one. They also have abilities that mimic arcane magic. All in all pretty nasty beings."
“Uh huh. Big, soft frogs to squish. Shouldn’t be too much of a problem,” the dwarf said, hefting his maul. “Shall we get goin’, then?”
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
The party left the barracks and moved to explore the rest of this section of the dungeon, which seemed to be untouched by the Acolytes. Passing through a room with a dry fountain, they entered what seemed to be a small dungeon. Six locked and stuck stone doors led to cells that were mostly empty. One cell however, contained a skeleton clad in a gleaming breastplate and tattered adventurer's garb, with a sword apparently lying under its body.
Terenon examined the room with disgust. He knew that such places were necessary to maintain order in a city, but it still was unsettling to be in such a place. He also found it odd to see someone thrown into a prison, but still have his weapon and armor. The mage spoke a minor incantation to allow him to see magical auras, and the sword and breastplate began to glow.
“I’ll get them,” said Grundar, activating his ring of blinking. He passed through the door, only to see a skeletal creature crouched at it, beneath the viewport. Its rib cage was filled with horrid, writhing viscera. The creature's tongue was its most noteworthy feature--long, cartilaginous, and clawed. The other skeleton also animated and stood up and drew the sword, a clawed tongue hanging from its mouth.
The creatures lashed out at Grundar with their tongues, but the elf phased into the Ethereal Plane right before the tongues would have connected, and they passed through air instead. Alerting the others to the presence of the undead, Grundar dropped to a crouch and performed a barrel roll out through the walls of the cell and out of harm's way. The creatures began to bang on the stone door, but they could not escape the cell.
“Ugh, I hate undead,” he remarked. “Those nasty tongues don't look clean at all.”
“We can come back for those items later,” said Terenon. “Let’s continue exploring.”
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Leaving the undead creatures behind, the adventurers exited back into the hallway and headed to the room to the east. More signs of ancient battle were evident here. Two long-limbed, ogre-sized skeletons lied in blackened circles in the center of the room. To the east, a sturdy iron door hung twisted from its hinges, revealing a chamber that seemed to be filled with a clutter of weapons and armor. The arms and equipment were too rusted and battered to be serviceable, though.
The party went through a door to the south into a long room lined with four storage chambers. The floor of the chambers was fifteen feet deeper than the hallway outside. The hallway and the four storage rooms are finished in crumbling brick. It looked like the floor of each storage room was covered with soggy grain.
They seemed to have reached a dead end. Grundar began to search along the walls for a possible secret exit while Rhys and Terenon moved to inspect the grain. "What kind of grain would remain moist when metal weapons would rust?” mused Rhys. “Could it be grain liquor, perhaps?”
Terenon shrugged. ”I had the same thought about the grain, especially when you look at all the skeletons about. If the liquid was spirits, I'm sure we would have noticed its smell. Whatever it is, best to leave it alone." He began to turn away, but Rhys stopped him with a glance.
“There is something else that has been gnawing at me, Terenon,” the priest said softly. “You’ve deduced that the Acolytes want to use you for the ceremony to free their lord. Why did they not choose an easier victim? Our enemies seem to be taking a grave risk to their operation by letting us get this far. If they’ve been watching us, they’ve missed at least two excellent chances to take us out while we were weak. They may be more fools than they are zealots”
"As far as the ceremony goes, we have only the information of Osterel to work from,” replied Terenon. “True, they need a mage of a particular moral bent, but is that all that is necessary? Osterel was only a lowly minion for the true powers behind this cabal. I doubt she possessed the full knowledge of what the ritual entailed. For whatever reason, they seek me, or somebody like me. Could be my blood, or mind, or soul. I don't know enough to answer with any certainty. I don't believe the ones who are masterminding this event are fools or zealots. They truly believe they can control the Slaad Lord, and I have no reason to believe otherwise. The only thing I do know is they must be stopped. If we have to stumble blindly for a time, I see no alternative."
Rhys frowned, obviously still worried, but before he could say anything Allanon approached the two. “Grundar’s found a secret door at the end of the hall,” she said. “We should keep moving.” Nodding assent, they followed behind her.
The secret door opened up into a short hallway with a flight of stairs leading down. The hall ended at another secret door that opened up into another room. A strange sense of hushed power seemed to hang over this octagonal room. Its only feature was a twenty-foot-diameter well that occupied the center of the chamber. Its sides were finished in glossy black tile flecked with tiny chips of glittering white. Bright, blue-white motes of light drifted lazily within the well, reflecting off the white flecks in the walls. The dark shaft descended quite a distance--in fact, its bottom was not visible at all. Two passageways offered egress to the south and the west.
“What do you think this is?” asked Gillian.
“A perfect place to cast arcane eye,” replied Terenon, following words with actions. The arcane eye floated down the well, the motes of light providing illumination all the way down. About thirty feet down, a small iron door was set into the east wall of the shaft; a large padlock was attached to it. Thirty feet further down at the bottom of the shaft lay a round chamber (bell-shaped in cross-section) about fifty feet in diameter and almost as tall. Wayward motes of light from the shaft drifted through the air of the room.
The eye floated back up the shaft and went down the west hallway, passing by a few doors to the south. It reached an intersection and headed north through a gilded archway into a long rectangular room. Three tall pillars chiseled from red marble supported the ceiling of this magnificent hall. Smokeless torches in sconces illuminated the scene. The walls were made of glossy gray stone cut in geometric patterns, and the triple-vaulted ceiling rose twenty-five feet overhead. Double doors of bronze offered egress to the north and west. Through the north doors, the eye saw a room with walls of black granite and a circle of gleaming silver inscribed on the floor, similar to the secret room on the floor above.
Three hulking, froglike creatures stood watch in this chamber. Two were blue, with sicklelike blades of bone sprouting from their forearms, while the third was a mottled green color with a huge, pale belly. The green creature was enormous, towering even over its two companions.
Dismissing the sensor, Terenon related his findings to his companions. “This may be a good chance to charm the slaadi and pump them for information. I’ll sneak in invisibly and try to catch them all in a chained charm spell. If it doesn’t work, I’ll call out, and that will be your cue to attack.”
“This time, Berek, wait for him to raise the alarm before charging in,” Grundar said. Berek *harrumphed* angrily, but said nothing.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Xorfilstaarg grumbled to himself as he kept watch on the teleportation circle. Behind him the two blue slaadi were arguing with each other and taking turns slicing off portions of their anatomy, only to have them grow back a few seconds later. Slaadi were creatures of chaos, definitely not suited to staying in one place for long periods of time, but Flame Lord Durzhul had ordered him to watch this intersection. No matter which way the adventurers came in, they would have had to pass through here; the enormous green slaad only hoped they would show up soon so that his boredom would be alleviated.
Xorfilstaarg did not notice Terenon’s sudden arrival until he had completed his spell of charming. The slaad blinked in confusion; he knew a friend was close by, but could not see him. He concentrated for a few moments so that his vision would pierce through any invisibility, and then turned to see the mage hovering in the air. “Hail, friend,” the green slaad croaked in a burbling voice. What are you doing way up there? What business have you here?"
Terenon dismissed his invisibility and smirked. "My friends and I are here to aid in clearing this place of traitors. It has come to my attention that some here would not like to see the glorious Firebringer loosed from his prison. I have come to recruit you to aid me." The mage yelled back to the others that he had found three friends to help them, and the rest of the group soon joined him.
The green slaad looked a bit taken aback. He looked to his two blue slaad allies, then back to Terenon, suspicion evident on his face. "Flame Lord Durzhul told us to be ready for a group matching your description. He told us to slay the lot of you. Why should we believe the words you speak now over those of our superior?"
The mage looked at the slaad with a stern face. "Flame Lord Durzhul is one of the traitorous lot. He spreads lies to further his agenda. Look into your heart. What does it tell you? I am here to fulfill the promise of releasing the Slaad Prince. I can't do that while those who wish otherwise work against me. Durzhul vies for political power. He issues orders to you to seal my death and secure his place among the Acolytes of the Flame. I will not allow this to happen. His agents are everywhere here. They already are moving to thwart the ritual. You must help me to eliminate Durzhul and his minions, or all is lost and the Firebringer will rot in his prison."
Xorfilstaarg blinked twice before letting out a hearty laugh. The two blue slaadi joined in. "Durzhul's agents? You mean those two whiny reds that that attend to his every beck and call? I scarcely believe they could find a githzerai in Limbo. And I doubt that Flame Lord Durzhul would turn traitor on us. After all, he is the one who discovered the Rite of Unbinding, not to mention he knows better than to defy the High Conflagration's will. No, I don't think I'll be helping you today. Seems to me the best course of action would be to turn you over to Durzhul and let him decide your fate. Now you can come with me peacefully or we can do it the hard way."
He flexed his enormous muscles to emphasize his point, and the blue slaadi glared balefully at the adventurers. Berek smiled grimly and tightened his grip on his maul. “Time to do it the hard way,” he said.
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Chaostream
First Post
I've always loved seeing intelligent villains, and scry has to be the first resort of any intelligent villain. Hurray for cut scenes as well.
Haha, Allanon grows a pair of boobs and suddenly gains a fashion sense? Very amusing.
As always, more character development which is a GREAT thing.
And I like the conspiracy theorizing as well.
The only constructive criticism I have -- stop slipping into present tense. It throws me every time I see it.
Keep up the writing, I'll be waiting
Haha, Allanon grows a pair of boobs and suddenly gains a fashion sense? Very amusing.
As always, more character development which is a GREAT thing.
And I like the conspiracy theorizing as well.
The only constructive criticism I have -- stop slipping into present tense. It throws me every time I see it.
Keep up the writing, I'll be waiting
ltclnlbrain
First Post
I'm doing my best to watch out for tense slips, but a few always manage to sneak by. I am converting the story from messageboard posts, and the posts are written in present tense, so I have to change all of the verbs to past tense. I catch most of them, but I apologize for those I miss. I'll try to be more vigilant as I go along.Chaostream said:I've always loved seeing intelligent villains, and scry has to be the first resort of any intelligent villain. Hurray for cut scenes as well.
Haha, Allanon grows a pair of boobs and suddenly gains a fashion sense? Very amusing.
As always, more character development which is a GREAT thing.
And I like the conspiracy theorizing as well.
The only constructive criticism I have -- stop slipping into present tense. It throws me every time I see it.
Keep up the writing, I'll be waiting
ltclnlbrain
First Post
Pelwrath, while I do appreciate the bump, you don't really need to post one until after the thread has slipped to the second page. That's when you need to send it back to the top to attract more readers.
I've got Chapter 11 all typed up and ready to go, but I'll give you guys some time for this installment to sink in before I post it. Probably in a few days. Here is a small preview:
A small, never-before-seen cutscene featuring a new character.
The fight with the slaadi goes from bad to worse when reinforcements arrive.
Somebody will die.
Stay tuned!
I've got Chapter 11 all typed up and ready to go, but I'll give you guys some time for this installment to sink in before I post it. Probably in a few days. Here is a small preview:
A small, never-before-seen cutscene featuring a new character.
The fight with the slaadi goes from bad to worse when reinforcements arrive.
Somebody will die.
Stay tuned!
Terenon said:
I have to agree, the cut scenes are impressive. They make you feel like you're just a small part of a much bigger world; a perspective it's hard to keep in normal games. It also creates a great sense of drama, and I'd like to encourage any pbem DM's out there to try and incorporate this into their games. If I ever get back to it, I know I will.