Doom from Below: The Illithid Ascension (Last Updated: 1-1-03)
Son_of_Thunder
Explorer
Awesome!!!
Keep it up guys. Great Story Hour.
Son of Thunder
Keep it up guys. Great Story Hour.
Son of Thunder
A question for y'all
Sorry for the length of time between posts. My enthusiasm has been waning, as has the readership of this Story Hour by the look of it. Judging by the number of new reads each time this thread hits the front page, we have around 30-40 people who pay attention to this story hour, of which I'd estimate maybe a third are probably people who click on it out of curiosity...
Maybe I'm being unrealistic, but I feel like I'm doing something wrong here.
So! I have an idea and I wanted to run it by the folks who read this to see if it's a good one.
My idea is that I do shorter installments, more often...rather than a week or two apart as per now. I'm estimating the length of each installment would be around half of what they tend to be right now...varying so that it finds a good "cut point" in the narrative, of course.
If nothing else, this'd keep the hour on the front page more, and it would be easier to write and so I'd tend to procrastinate less.
Is it the concensus of those on this board that this course of action would help expand this tale's appeal and readership? Or are there any other comments/suggestions anyone would like to make? I haven't tried this kind of serial story posting before, so I fully admit there's aspects to it that I'm unaware of.
Any kind of feedback would be welcome. I should have the next update ready tomorrow.
Thanks.
Sorry for the length of time between posts. My enthusiasm has been waning, as has the readership of this Story Hour by the look of it. Judging by the number of new reads each time this thread hits the front page, we have around 30-40 people who pay attention to this story hour, of which I'd estimate maybe a third are probably people who click on it out of curiosity...
Maybe I'm being unrealistic, but I feel like I'm doing something wrong here.
So! I have an idea and I wanted to run it by the folks who read this to see if it's a good one.
My idea is that I do shorter installments, more often...rather than a week or two apart as per now. I'm estimating the length of each installment would be around half of what they tend to be right now...varying so that it finds a good "cut point" in the narrative, of course.
If nothing else, this'd keep the hour on the front page more, and it would be easier to write and so I'd tend to procrastinate less.
Is it the concensus of those on this board that this course of action would help expand this tale's appeal and readership? Or are there any other comments/suggestions anyone would like to make? I haven't tried this kind of serial story posting before, so I fully admit there's aspects to it that I'm unaware of.
Any kind of feedback would be welcome. I should have the next update ready tomorrow.
Thanks.
Imhotepthewise
Explorer
More...brain...eaters....NOW!
Nyarlathotep
Explorer
just a bump cause this rules.
Phasmus
First Post
The voice cut off when the oval of stone that comprised the door began scraping noisily open. Immediately there was a puff of air from within, full of the stink of decay and excretion. The chamber was almost completely dark, save for what light streamed in through the now-open doorway. It was roughly cylindrical, with a low, claustrophobic ceiling. What use the original builders had used it for was uncertain. Storage, perhaps. Unfortunately, the use it was now being put to was all too clear.
At regular intervals around the circular wall were shackles for wrists and ankles. Each set held a person...or what had been a person. Most were in various states of decay. One, the smallest of them, moved weakly and winced at the sudden relative brilliance. "Help," it croaked weakly again. Semaki darted in, Mark hot on her heels. Quadim and Shayuri were next, the sorceress momentarily preoccupied by the unabashed squalor and filth of the room. Chains clinked, and Semaki called, "Piklum!"
Moments later, they were outside, with Mark carrying the ex-prisoner. He was a boy, a human child of perhaps sixteen. It was hard to tell specifics of his appearance. Grime caked his skin, and he wasn't much more than that and bones. But the most disturbing thing about him was his head. He'd been shaved bald, and a regular series of linear scars crisscrossed his exposed scalp, forming a grid that conformed to the shape of his skull. On seeing that, Quadim jerked slightly and put a hand to his own thin hair...similar scars barely visible beneath. The boy flinched and cried out when the sun brushed his face, but quieted when Mark carried him into shade. "Shar," he said, "Can you help him?"
The cleric peered down at the boy and slowly shook her head. "He needs food. And time."
Shayuri kneeled down near the boy and asked gently, "What's your name?"
"Leave him be, Shayuri," Mark sighed. "He's far too..."
The boy's face scrinched in a peculiarly confused expression. "My name...I don't...I think it's Mana?"
"We need to keep moving," Semaki said, though not without a trickle of sympathy. "The illithid could be back any time."
Mana flinched at that, and weakly began trying to get to his feet. "I think I'm all right," he muttered. "I need my friends...where are they?"
"We're your friends," Shayuri assured him warmly, "But Semaki's right. It's too dangerous here."
"No!" Mana replied, then cupped his hands around his mouth and released a long ululating cry. Mark stiffened and his hand dropped to his sword hilt. He looked at Shayuri and mouthed, 'thrall.' Shayuri shook her head, but uncertainly.
Out of a copse of trees nearby sprang a pair of full grown wolves, one grey, one slightly tawny. Mana burst into tearful laughter on seeing them and stumbled forward, arms wide. The wolves bounded into his embrace before the astonished party could do more than get to their feet.
Feeling the invisible, yet almost tangible pressure of the illithid's return, the group hastily moved onward. They turned southward though and depended on Mark's guidence. The objective, for now at least, had changed. Semaki and Shayuri committed to completing the interrupted quest of the dragons, Shar equally committed to ridding herself of the circling Xag, and Mark with his mysterious message for the Caronian Underground.
Mana was the enigma. His amnesia was nearly total, save only his name. Yet, for a moment another voice came from his mouth...deeper, powerful, resonant. In that voice he announced himself as the Grand Druid of Te'kleos, but even then seemed confused. In the end he avoided conversation, keeping with his two wolf "friends."
Once away from the mind flayer lair, things relaxed somewhat. The open expanses of Caron seemed endless, and there was no sign of hostile presence. The ragtag band made camp under an enormous tree that stood by itself in the middle of that plain...Mark called it 'The Encampment,' and referred to it as a landmark on the way to the Resistance. After setting up camp Mark dropped a goldpiece into a large hollow in the trunk of the tree. There was a distinct metallic 'clink' as it landed.
"For good luck." Mark explained sheepishly to the questioning stares he received from the other party members.
"Sounds like that old tree might have a bit more 'good luck' than it can hold." Piklum said with a grin as he stood on his tiptoes to look into the treasure-filled hollow.
Mark shook his head seriously at Piklum, who took the hint and stepped away from the tree grumbling.
Mana dismissed the wolves tearfully, saying that it was too dangerous for them to remain with him. He spoke more candidly then of his memories among the illithid, though they were still too spotty to make much of. However he recalled one thing clearly. Being bound and immobile as an unusual illithid hovered over him, doing something to him. From the description, Shayuri and Shar alike gasped.
It could only be an Ulitharid.
The sorceress recounted what she knew of them, which was regrettably little. The ulitharid were distinguished by their six facial tentacles (as opposed to four on common illithid) and their larger size and greater power. They were the elites; the leaders and tyrants of the mind flayers, the so-called "noble" illithid. Subject only to the will of the Elder Brain....and if they were operating independently of a colony, not even that.
The idea of one of them having personally 'worked' on Mana was troubling. To say the least.
Semaki and Shayuri split off for a bit, talking amongst themselves. Quadim was close, as always, but seemed distracted by Mana's news. His hand raised slowly to trace one of the scars on his head, his dark eyes were distant and disturbed.
Finally the fire guttered low, and sleep came to most...if not all.
The next day went swiftly, and evening brought the group to a stripe of green and trees that wound verdant through the vast, dry, tree-speckled plains. A river sawed it's way through here, and in the distance another forest bloomed from it. Mark nodded on seeing it and said merely, "We're close now."
They followed the river. Mana in particular seemed to delight in the green, in the abundant life that the water carried with it. It was just after the mid-day meal that Shayuri noticed Piklum was oddly silent. When she turned to look at him, the slimy halfling was seated near the water, looking down into it and rubbing his forehead.
"Are you all right?" Shayuri asked, walking up behind him.
"Wha?" Piklum started and looked up. Shayuri's eyes widened.
Two large bumps were growing from his forehead, one over each eye. They looked soft...fleshy, nothing at all like horns. Even more disturbing was his eyes. They were beginning to...protroude, for lack of a better word. Each one bulged obscenely from the socket.
Piklum smiled, though it was forced. "I hope these guys in Mark's Resistance can help with this," he commented, "Or I may have to give up on wenching for a bit."
Shayuri opened her mouth, shocked at the continuing disfigurement, but before she could say anything, Mark's voice rang clear. "Here!"
They gathered around Mark at an embankment near a waterfall, where the river fell a good thirty feet into a broad pool before continuing on its way. He waved a hand at the cascade, beaming. "We've arrived! This is the Enclave."
As if on cue, a mental force encompassed them.
Please do not resist.
It probed...it pried. It measured and judged. The voice came again.
Mark, Semaki, Shar, Shayuri, and Piklum may enter. The ones known as Quadim and Mana must remain.
"Ludicrous," Semaki said. Then louder, "Unacceptable!"
Shayuri frowned. "We vouch for them both," she said. "If you trust us, you can trust them!"
Your devotion is commendable, but perhaps misguided. We shall see. Those who remain shall be tested more extensively. Not necessarily denied entry.
Semaki's face hardened. "Then test us, faceless one. I do not fear truth."
Banishing a shred of worry, the sorceress nodded. "I will stand with them as well."
As you wish.
Mark led Shar and Piklum through the pool to the falls. Mark and Shar passed through. Piklum glanced back, seemed to weigh his options, then shrugged and waved. "Good luck guys! Seeya inside." Then he too was gone.
Shayuri looked worriedly at Semaki. "What do you think this...test will be?"
"I do not care," Semaki said stolidly. "It is..."
She broke off as the water in the pool bubbled, roiled...and reared up! Four shapes emerged from the water, forged FROM the water. Roughly humanoid in form. Shayuri had time to gasp, "Elementals!" Then they moved with speed and precision.
Each of the elementals grabbed one of the four testees by the neck, hard enough to block speech, and with inhuman strength hauled them forward, into the pool...through the waterfall.
The Testing began.
--------------------------
Next Time! Zoyster and the Resistance, and a dangerous diversion to save them! Also - The Mystery of Quadim revealed?? To Be Continued!
At regular intervals around the circular wall were shackles for wrists and ankles. Each set held a person...or what had been a person. Most were in various states of decay. One, the smallest of them, moved weakly and winced at the sudden relative brilliance. "Help," it croaked weakly again. Semaki darted in, Mark hot on her heels. Quadim and Shayuri were next, the sorceress momentarily preoccupied by the unabashed squalor and filth of the room. Chains clinked, and Semaki called, "Piklum!"
Moments later, they were outside, with Mark carrying the ex-prisoner. He was a boy, a human child of perhaps sixteen. It was hard to tell specifics of his appearance. Grime caked his skin, and he wasn't much more than that and bones. But the most disturbing thing about him was his head. He'd been shaved bald, and a regular series of linear scars crisscrossed his exposed scalp, forming a grid that conformed to the shape of his skull. On seeing that, Quadim jerked slightly and put a hand to his own thin hair...similar scars barely visible beneath. The boy flinched and cried out when the sun brushed his face, but quieted when Mark carried him into shade. "Shar," he said, "Can you help him?"
The cleric peered down at the boy and slowly shook her head. "He needs food. And time."
Shayuri kneeled down near the boy and asked gently, "What's your name?"
"Leave him be, Shayuri," Mark sighed. "He's far too..."
The boy's face scrinched in a peculiarly confused expression. "My name...I don't...I think it's Mana?"
"We need to keep moving," Semaki said, though not without a trickle of sympathy. "The illithid could be back any time."
Mana flinched at that, and weakly began trying to get to his feet. "I think I'm all right," he muttered. "I need my friends...where are they?"
"We're your friends," Shayuri assured him warmly, "But Semaki's right. It's too dangerous here."
"No!" Mana replied, then cupped his hands around his mouth and released a long ululating cry. Mark stiffened and his hand dropped to his sword hilt. He looked at Shayuri and mouthed, 'thrall.' Shayuri shook her head, but uncertainly.
Out of a copse of trees nearby sprang a pair of full grown wolves, one grey, one slightly tawny. Mana burst into tearful laughter on seeing them and stumbled forward, arms wide. The wolves bounded into his embrace before the astonished party could do more than get to their feet.
Feeling the invisible, yet almost tangible pressure of the illithid's return, the group hastily moved onward. They turned southward though and depended on Mark's guidence. The objective, for now at least, had changed. Semaki and Shayuri committed to completing the interrupted quest of the dragons, Shar equally committed to ridding herself of the circling Xag, and Mark with his mysterious message for the Caronian Underground.
Mana was the enigma. His amnesia was nearly total, save only his name. Yet, for a moment another voice came from his mouth...deeper, powerful, resonant. In that voice he announced himself as the Grand Druid of Te'kleos, but even then seemed confused. In the end he avoided conversation, keeping with his two wolf "friends."
Once away from the mind flayer lair, things relaxed somewhat. The open expanses of Caron seemed endless, and there was no sign of hostile presence. The ragtag band made camp under an enormous tree that stood by itself in the middle of that plain...Mark called it 'The Encampment,' and referred to it as a landmark on the way to the Resistance. After setting up camp Mark dropped a goldpiece into a large hollow in the trunk of the tree. There was a distinct metallic 'clink' as it landed.
"For good luck." Mark explained sheepishly to the questioning stares he received from the other party members.
"Sounds like that old tree might have a bit more 'good luck' than it can hold." Piklum said with a grin as he stood on his tiptoes to look into the treasure-filled hollow.
Mark shook his head seriously at Piklum, who took the hint and stepped away from the tree grumbling.
Mana dismissed the wolves tearfully, saying that it was too dangerous for them to remain with him. He spoke more candidly then of his memories among the illithid, though they were still too spotty to make much of. However he recalled one thing clearly. Being bound and immobile as an unusual illithid hovered over him, doing something to him. From the description, Shayuri and Shar alike gasped.
It could only be an Ulitharid.
The sorceress recounted what she knew of them, which was regrettably little. The ulitharid were distinguished by their six facial tentacles (as opposed to four on common illithid) and their larger size and greater power. They were the elites; the leaders and tyrants of the mind flayers, the so-called "noble" illithid. Subject only to the will of the Elder Brain....and if they were operating independently of a colony, not even that.
The idea of one of them having personally 'worked' on Mana was troubling. To say the least.
Semaki and Shayuri split off for a bit, talking amongst themselves. Quadim was close, as always, but seemed distracted by Mana's news. His hand raised slowly to trace one of the scars on his head, his dark eyes were distant and disturbed.
Finally the fire guttered low, and sleep came to most...if not all.
The next day went swiftly, and evening brought the group to a stripe of green and trees that wound verdant through the vast, dry, tree-speckled plains. A river sawed it's way through here, and in the distance another forest bloomed from it. Mark nodded on seeing it and said merely, "We're close now."
They followed the river. Mana in particular seemed to delight in the green, in the abundant life that the water carried with it. It was just after the mid-day meal that Shayuri noticed Piklum was oddly silent. When she turned to look at him, the slimy halfling was seated near the water, looking down into it and rubbing his forehead.
"Are you all right?" Shayuri asked, walking up behind him.
"Wha?" Piklum started and looked up. Shayuri's eyes widened.
Two large bumps were growing from his forehead, one over each eye. They looked soft...fleshy, nothing at all like horns. Even more disturbing was his eyes. They were beginning to...protroude, for lack of a better word. Each one bulged obscenely from the socket.
Piklum smiled, though it was forced. "I hope these guys in Mark's Resistance can help with this," he commented, "Or I may have to give up on wenching for a bit."
Shayuri opened her mouth, shocked at the continuing disfigurement, but before she could say anything, Mark's voice rang clear. "Here!"
They gathered around Mark at an embankment near a waterfall, where the river fell a good thirty feet into a broad pool before continuing on its way. He waved a hand at the cascade, beaming. "We've arrived! This is the Enclave."
As if on cue, a mental force encompassed them.
Please do not resist.
It probed...it pried. It measured and judged. The voice came again.
Mark, Semaki, Shar, Shayuri, and Piklum may enter. The ones known as Quadim and Mana must remain.
"Ludicrous," Semaki said. Then louder, "Unacceptable!"
Shayuri frowned. "We vouch for them both," she said. "If you trust us, you can trust them!"
Your devotion is commendable, but perhaps misguided. We shall see. Those who remain shall be tested more extensively. Not necessarily denied entry.
Semaki's face hardened. "Then test us, faceless one. I do not fear truth."
Banishing a shred of worry, the sorceress nodded. "I will stand with them as well."
As you wish.
Mark led Shar and Piklum through the pool to the falls. Mark and Shar passed through. Piklum glanced back, seemed to weigh his options, then shrugged and waved. "Good luck guys! Seeya inside." Then he too was gone.
Shayuri looked worriedly at Semaki. "What do you think this...test will be?"
"I do not care," Semaki said stolidly. "It is..."
She broke off as the water in the pool bubbled, roiled...and reared up! Four shapes emerged from the water, forged FROM the water. Roughly humanoid in form. Shayuri had time to gasp, "Elementals!" Then they moved with speed and precision.
Each of the elementals grabbed one of the four testees by the neck, hard enough to block speech, and with inhuman strength hauled them forward, into the pool...through the waterfall.
The Testing began.
--------------------------
Next Time! Zoyster and the Resistance, and a dangerous diversion to save them! Also - The Mystery of Quadim revealed?? To Be Continued!
MavrickWeirdo
First Post
The Testing Began
Very Exciting.
So, how much is cool writing by the DM, and how much is cool player ideas?
for example:
This was priceless
Very Exciting.
So, how much is cool writing by the DM, and how much is cool player ideas?
for example:
This was priceless
