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In the Valus - The Heroes of Marchford (Chapter 14 Continues - 12/24/08)
- Thread starter Funeris
- Start date
Funeris
First Post
Chapter 8: Into the Deep Continued
Here's the first half of the next part. I'm working on the next part but I'm not sure I'll get it up today. Enjoy.
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Tobias and Motega slid the one thousand pound door off the well. Cautiously they peered into the hole that ended abruptly at a cave-in only thirty feet down. From the cave in, a tunnel headed generally northward, but the ledge was such that nothing could be seen.
“There is still something evil down in the well. Not too far down that tunnel,” Tobias noted. Then he shifted to find a handhold of some type. A rope fell in front of his face, as Magnus and Motega secured it with a climbing piton. As soon as it was sturdy enough, Motega grabbed a hold and lowered himself down the thirty feet.
He landed slowly on the cave-in, distributing his weight with care. A pebble fell bounced off his shoulder and landed in front of him. He peered upward at his friends.
“So you can see!” Fitz hollered down. Motega noticed the pebble did glow with enough illumination for his eyes. He picked it up and started down the tunnel.
Above Magnus, Tobias, and Fitz waited anxiously for what seemed eternity. Tobias’ patience gave out and he grabbed the rope to descend. Halfway down, Motega re-entered the well. The remaining Heroes shuffled their way down the rope in turn until they all met up at the bottom.
“Tunnel ends. Fifty feet then water.” Motega led them into the tunnel. “Dead dwem,” the Rornman pointed at a corpse.
Tobias and Magnus rummaged over the dead deep dwarf. Both sets of eyes focused on an onyx amulet. Tobias could feel its taint and grabbed his sword to break it.
“Wait!” Magnus threw himself on top of the desiccated body.
“Move away, mage.” Tobias’ sword was poised on the verge of attack. Magnus’ interference had spared the amulet only a few minutes respite.
“It…uh…it,” Magnus searched his memory for a reason not to destroy the expensive amulet. “It could be a prison,” he blurted.
“What?!”
“It could be a prison for a demon. Their souls can be trapped in gems like this. If you broke the gem, you would set it free!”
“Well, then I’d just have to kill it.” Tobias glared at the mage.
“But you don’t know what the effects of shattering it would be! It could explode, causing another cave-in and killing all of us. Or you could release a powerful and ancient demon.”
“And what would you have us do? Sale it? I think not. I will destroy it here and now and forever.” Tobias hefted his greatsword but Fitz’s hand stopped him from completing the blow.
“The mage is right, Tobias. We will take it to a powerful priestess to examine it.” Fitz reached through Magnus’ arms and grabbed the pendant. Then he dropped it into the haversack. “We have more important things to worry about right now. I hope you two know how to swim.”
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By the time everyone swam through the tunnel, Motega had already started the next descent. The waterlogged tunnel had been short at only twenty or thirty feet to a point where it forked. One tunnel headed farther downward, a direction illogical if only for the need for air. The other tunnel led upward and hopefully away from the water. It was the second tunnel the Heroes chose and it led them to another corridor with air.
This tunnel went forward only thirty feet. And had it not been for Fitz’s pebble lights, the Heroes may have all fallen to their demises. The cliff ahead of them was at least a one hundred and fifty foot drop. Possibly, it was two hundred. The fall was straight except for one ledge that would’ve invariably broken their fall and their bodies if only for a moment.
Motega had been the first to climb downward. With lengths of rope and climbing pitons, he secured an easier path for the other Heroes. Fitz occasionally threw another lighted pebble down the cliff, which made the climb much easier for Motega. He left a lighted pebble at each of the more treacherous areas of the climb.
Once he made it to the floor, Motega took in as much visual information as he could. He would be prepared if the lights went out before Fitz could create another.
The rest of the Heroes, thanks to Motega’s efforts, had a relatively easy climb downward. They took their time with Tobias in the lead but within a quarter of an hour they set down on the same ledge Motega waited upon.
With another blessing to Ceria, Fitz created another light source and flung it into the darkness. The twisting shadows rolled away as the light bounced down the seemingly endless corridor. A passageway loomed out of the darkness toward the approaching light. As the pebble passed its entrance, a high-pitched shriek echoed through the tunnels. The Heroes had to brace their hands against their ears to stop the deafening sound.
Motega waited until the echoes had passed to speak. “Shriekers. If anyone was waiting for us, they’ll know we’re here now. We should be prepared.” He withdrew his bow and nocked an arrow. Everyone else followed suit and drew weapons. Fitz lit a few more pebbles and threw them toward the doorway.
It wasn’t long before they all noticed the faint sounds of the stone being scratched by thousands of appendages. The sounds steadily grew nearer…
Here's the first half of the next part. I'm working on the next part but I'm not sure I'll get it up today. Enjoy.
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Tobias and Motega slid the one thousand pound door off the well. Cautiously they peered into the hole that ended abruptly at a cave-in only thirty feet down. From the cave in, a tunnel headed generally northward, but the ledge was such that nothing could be seen.
“There is still something evil down in the well. Not too far down that tunnel,” Tobias noted. Then he shifted to find a handhold of some type. A rope fell in front of his face, as Magnus and Motega secured it with a climbing piton. As soon as it was sturdy enough, Motega grabbed a hold and lowered himself down the thirty feet.
He landed slowly on the cave-in, distributing his weight with care. A pebble fell bounced off his shoulder and landed in front of him. He peered upward at his friends.
“So you can see!” Fitz hollered down. Motega noticed the pebble did glow with enough illumination for his eyes. He picked it up and started down the tunnel.
Above Magnus, Tobias, and Fitz waited anxiously for what seemed eternity. Tobias’ patience gave out and he grabbed the rope to descend. Halfway down, Motega re-entered the well. The remaining Heroes shuffled their way down the rope in turn until they all met up at the bottom.
“Tunnel ends. Fifty feet then water.” Motega led them into the tunnel. “Dead dwem,” the Rornman pointed at a corpse.
Tobias and Magnus rummaged over the dead deep dwarf. Both sets of eyes focused on an onyx amulet. Tobias could feel its taint and grabbed his sword to break it.
“Wait!” Magnus threw himself on top of the desiccated body.
“Move away, mage.” Tobias’ sword was poised on the verge of attack. Magnus’ interference had spared the amulet only a few minutes respite.
“It…uh…it,” Magnus searched his memory for a reason not to destroy the expensive amulet. “It could be a prison,” he blurted.
“What?!”
“It could be a prison for a demon. Their souls can be trapped in gems like this. If you broke the gem, you would set it free!”
“Well, then I’d just have to kill it.” Tobias glared at the mage.
“But you don’t know what the effects of shattering it would be! It could explode, causing another cave-in and killing all of us. Or you could release a powerful and ancient demon.”
“And what would you have us do? Sale it? I think not. I will destroy it here and now and forever.” Tobias hefted his greatsword but Fitz’s hand stopped him from completing the blow.
“The mage is right, Tobias. We will take it to a powerful priestess to examine it.” Fitz reached through Magnus’ arms and grabbed the pendant. Then he dropped it into the haversack. “We have more important things to worry about right now. I hope you two know how to swim.”
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By the time everyone swam through the tunnel, Motega had already started the next descent. The waterlogged tunnel had been short at only twenty or thirty feet to a point where it forked. One tunnel headed farther downward, a direction illogical if only for the need for air. The other tunnel led upward and hopefully away from the water. It was the second tunnel the Heroes chose and it led them to another corridor with air.
This tunnel went forward only thirty feet. And had it not been for Fitz’s pebble lights, the Heroes may have all fallen to their demises. The cliff ahead of them was at least a one hundred and fifty foot drop. Possibly, it was two hundred. The fall was straight except for one ledge that would’ve invariably broken their fall and their bodies if only for a moment.
Motega had been the first to climb downward. With lengths of rope and climbing pitons, he secured an easier path for the other Heroes. Fitz occasionally threw another lighted pebble down the cliff, which made the climb much easier for Motega. He left a lighted pebble at each of the more treacherous areas of the climb.
Once he made it to the floor, Motega took in as much visual information as he could. He would be prepared if the lights went out before Fitz could create another.
The rest of the Heroes, thanks to Motega’s efforts, had a relatively easy climb downward. They took their time with Tobias in the lead but within a quarter of an hour they set down on the same ledge Motega waited upon.
With another blessing to Ceria, Fitz created another light source and flung it into the darkness. The twisting shadows rolled away as the light bounced down the seemingly endless corridor. A passageway loomed out of the darkness toward the approaching light. As the pebble passed its entrance, a high-pitched shriek echoed through the tunnels. The Heroes had to brace their hands against their ears to stop the deafening sound.
Motega waited until the echoes had passed to speak. “Shriekers. If anyone was waiting for us, they’ll know we’re here now. We should be prepared.” He withdrew his bow and nocked an arrow. Everyone else followed suit and drew weapons. Fitz lit a few more pebbles and threw them toward the doorway.
It wasn’t long before they all noticed the faint sounds of the stone being scratched by thousands of appendages. The sounds steadily grew nearer…
happycat2000
First Post
Wow!! Loved the suspense. Looking forward to more. 
Last edited:
Funeris
First Post
Thanks Namo. Destan is a lurker in this SH so I'm sure he'd thank you too. I think its a great setting (as do the other players). I think what makes it great is the realism...there have only been two creatures we've fought so far that were not humanoid. Destan did a great job creating a campaign world that was low magic. And also, its not well known. So, we can't go to places were all well-versed with be it Waterdeep or Sharn or any others. It keeps us (as players) all on our toes, I think. We're always trying to out-think Destan, because we don't know what he'll throw at us next .
.
Funeris
First Post
Chapter 8: Into the Deep Continued
A large insect with thousands of legs slithered into the main tunnel from the side corridor. Its writhing legs scuffed and clawed the dirt floor, pulling its bulbous mass along. The shrieker fungus tried alerting the Heroes, but they were already aware with hands clamped over their ears. Shades of dark rotting greens and putrid deep earth browns swirled over the insect’s body, decent camouflage in the dark of the deep. However, Fitz’s ascendant powered pebbles cast shifting shades of black on the movement of the beast, allowing the Heroes constant, if somewhat blurred, sight of the bug.
The bug shifted onto its haunches, half of the terrible frenzied appendages waving futilely in the air. With only half of its body lifted into the air, the creature was a good two feet taller than any of the Heroes. Two long, feelers attached to its swollen forehead searched the air for a scent of its prey. Three high-pitched whistles filled the air as arrows and a bolt pounded the thick exoskeleton. Magnus’ grin could’ve lit the cavern because he had actually hit his target.
Tobias had no time for pointless facial expressions; he dropped his bow and drew the great sword. He leapt to a lower perch of rubble and prepared to meet the wounded insect head-on. The beast would’ve squealed if it had the vocal chords for such a task. Instead, its bloated body collapsed back to the floor and charged dinner. As the insect sped toward Tobias, a smaller version peeked out of the corridor, its feelers pointing toward the group. It slithered out, alerting the shrieker, as did two of its brothers.
Arrows rained down upon the three smaller beasts as Motega loosed them rapidly. His arms were a flurry of trained motion: grabbing two arrows at a time, tossing one into the air then nocking, pulling, and releasing the first, catching the second arrow and repeating.
But few of the arrows found their targets. The inhuman beasts seemed to sense the speeding projectiles and slithered just to the left or right to avoid wounding. What they couldn’t avoid were Magnus’ bolts, that filled the gaps in Motega’s pattern. Each bolt tore into the thick bony hide, slowing the creatures down.
Tobias’ sword leapt in a great arc as the massive mother bug’s head lifted again. With a squelch, the blade pierced the exoskeleton, spurting greenish bile all over Tobias’ armor. He just as quickly wrenched the blade from the hide, and spun the other way nearly mirroring his first cut. More bile exploded and the bug shuddered, its frenzied claws scrapping at Tobias, pushing him backward into the rubble. With a scream the paladin charged forward, the bug started to pull away but the blade was much too long. The steel of the blade parted the armored hide, slicing upward and splitting the grotesque insect in half.
“Tobias!” Magnus’ scream would have alerted the paladin, if his survival instinct hadn’t already kicked in. The blade that had nearly pierced the ceiling of the cavern arced back down to the right, spinning with the warrior, and slicing the baby insect horizontally into two nearly even length pieces. Where the smaller creature had just been, a fine green mist hung momentarily in the air, before plummeting like its owner onto the dirt.
Tobias stood from his position and looked out at the battlefield. The other two insects had been stopped by arrow and bolt only five feet ahead of him. The shattered carapaces of the mother and the first brother lay disjointed and broken at his feet.
Three minutes passed, then ten. Still all was silent in the hallway besides the breathing of the Heroes. Motega clambered down the rubble and handed Tobias his bow. The paladin wiped as much of the muck off his face and blade as possible. Then the Heroes descended the rubble and started toward the side passage.
They followed the passage back to a series of natural rooms and searched each room. Aside from a few coppers and a few dwem corpses stashed in a nest, the rooms were empty. The side passage continued in a northwestward direction but the Heroes chose to fall back to the main corridor and begin their journey into the deep there.
A large insect with thousands of legs slithered into the main tunnel from the side corridor. Its writhing legs scuffed and clawed the dirt floor, pulling its bulbous mass along. The shrieker fungus tried alerting the Heroes, but they were already aware with hands clamped over their ears. Shades of dark rotting greens and putrid deep earth browns swirled over the insect’s body, decent camouflage in the dark of the deep. However, Fitz’s ascendant powered pebbles cast shifting shades of black on the movement of the beast, allowing the Heroes constant, if somewhat blurred, sight of the bug.
The bug shifted onto its haunches, half of the terrible frenzied appendages waving futilely in the air. With only half of its body lifted into the air, the creature was a good two feet taller than any of the Heroes. Two long, feelers attached to its swollen forehead searched the air for a scent of its prey. Three high-pitched whistles filled the air as arrows and a bolt pounded the thick exoskeleton. Magnus’ grin could’ve lit the cavern because he had actually hit his target.
Tobias had no time for pointless facial expressions; he dropped his bow and drew the great sword. He leapt to a lower perch of rubble and prepared to meet the wounded insect head-on. The beast would’ve squealed if it had the vocal chords for such a task. Instead, its bloated body collapsed back to the floor and charged dinner. As the insect sped toward Tobias, a smaller version peeked out of the corridor, its feelers pointing toward the group. It slithered out, alerting the shrieker, as did two of its brothers.
Arrows rained down upon the three smaller beasts as Motega loosed them rapidly. His arms were a flurry of trained motion: grabbing two arrows at a time, tossing one into the air then nocking, pulling, and releasing the first, catching the second arrow and repeating.
But few of the arrows found their targets. The inhuman beasts seemed to sense the speeding projectiles and slithered just to the left or right to avoid wounding. What they couldn’t avoid were Magnus’ bolts, that filled the gaps in Motega’s pattern. Each bolt tore into the thick bony hide, slowing the creatures down.
Tobias’ sword leapt in a great arc as the massive mother bug’s head lifted again. With a squelch, the blade pierced the exoskeleton, spurting greenish bile all over Tobias’ armor. He just as quickly wrenched the blade from the hide, and spun the other way nearly mirroring his first cut. More bile exploded and the bug shuddered, its frenzied claws scrapping at Tobias, pushing him backward into the rubble. With a scream the paladin charged forward, the bug started to pull away but the blade was much too long. The steel of the blade parted the armored hide, slicing upward and splitting the grotesque insect in half.
“Tobias!” Magnus’ scream would have alerted the paladin, if his survival instinct hadn’t already kicked in. The blade that had nearly pierced the ceiling of the cavern arced back down to the right, spinning with the warrior, and slicing the baby insect horizontally into two nearly even length pieces. Where the smaller creature had just been, a fine green mist hung momentarily in the air, before plummeting like its owner onto the dirt.
Tobias stood from his position and looked out at the battlefield. The other two insects had been stopped by arrow and bolt only five feet ahead of him. The shattered carapaces of the mother and the first brother lay disjointed and broken at his feet.
Three minutes passed, then ten. Still all was silent in the hallway besides the breathing of the Heroes. Motega clambered down the rubble and handed Tobias his bow. The paladin wiped as much of the muck off his face and blade as possible. Then the Heroes descended the rubble and started toward the side passage.
They followed the passage back to a series of natural rooms and searched each room. Aside from a few coppers and a few dwem corpses stashed in a nest, the rooms were empty. The side passage continued in a northwestward direction but the Heroes chose to fall back to the main corridor and begin their journey into the deep there.
TheYeti1775
Adventurer
Got me looking like a school-aged wonderstruck boy. Smile that lights up a cave.
O wait a minute he is only 16, and does gleefully smile when he actually hits something with that well worn crossbow.
As a side note for the many readers, Motega is our primary bowman. Magnus goes with the theory that Motega knows who to take out first, so his bolts follow Motega's arrows all the time. Most of the time they end up missing the target, but generally after Motega's arrows have worn down the critter Magnus fires a winning shot kind of stealing the kill to say.
If I remember right we were around 4th Level at this point, so Magnus was always stingy with his magic. Still is at least until...... well I will leave that to our great story teller to fill you in on.
Please encourage young Funeris in his telling of the story, as it only gets better. Even now the plot thickens for our interpid heros.
Thanks for reading,
Bill
aka Magnus the Archmage's AlterEgo
O wait a minute he is only 16, and does gleefully smile when he actually hits something with that well worn crossbow.
As a side note for the many readers, Motega is our primary bowman. Magnus goes with the theory that Motega knows who to take out first, so his bolts follow Motega's arrows all the time. Most of the time they end up missing the target, but generally after Motega's arrows have worn down the critter Magnus fires a winning shot kind of stealing the kill to say.
If I remember right we were around 4th Level at this point, so Magnus was always stingy with his magic. Still is at least until...... well I will leave that to our great story teller to fill you in on.
Please encourage young Funeris in his telling of the story, as it only gets better. Even now the plot thickens for our interpid heros.
Thanks for reading,
Bill
aka Magnus the Archmage's AlterEgo
Funeris
First Post
Chapter 8: Into the Deep Continued
Second update today....woohoo!
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For several long hours the Heroes walked in the near-darkness without finding another diverging trail. The corridor wasn’t an evenly worked path and yet it never thinned to less than ten feet across. Odd broken fragments of stone reached out like fingers, grasping for the Heroes but never quite catching their prey. Fitz continued to leave lighted pebbles every now and then along the path. As a result a dim trail of light snaked along behind the Heroes, its tail flickering out and shortening slowly in the timeless depths.
Rather suddenly, the tunnel emptied its travelers in a high circular chamber. Six perfectly smoothed pillars swam from the center of the floor to kiss and support the ceiling. Like the pillars, the walls were smooth from being worked with small unusual triangle shaped holes piercing it like a veil in weird places. There was no discernible pattern to the odd gaps in the wall, just that they circled the entire cavern.
All of this detail was readily available to the Heroes, yet their eyes were drawn to the smoothed ceiling of the chamber. Not to the chamber itself so much as the corpses dangling there from lengths of rope. Two naked dwem bodies hung staring emptily downward toward the Heroes, nooses taught. Beside the dwem hung four scorpiot carapaces. A multitude of crude blows could be seen engraved into the carapaces. Whatever weapons had been used, hadn’t been very sharp.
Motega grunted and quietly reached for an arrow.
Tobias reached inward, calling upon the abilities granted by his divine counterpart. His senses magnified stretched outward and he recognized the presence of tainted creatures. His arm shot out, “There!”
Motega loosed the arrow he had quietly nocked. It flew through one of the odd holes and clattered hollowly against a second wall. Tobias’ hand traced the movement of one of the creatures and then he dropped it.
“There are at least eight of them,” the paladin began but was silenced. A deep rumble similar to thunder rang out down the corridor. Not the corridor they had traveled, but the other that exited this vaulted chamber. Another of the rumbling sounds followed but this was slightly higher pitched. Then the two sounds rhythmically alternated in a slow vibrating song.
“War drums,” Motega grunted. He took a step backward, miraculously avoiding a rock hurled through one of the odd triangular holes. The Heroes except Tobias took steps backward toward the trail. Motega had another arrow knocked but couldn’t guess which of the many holes to fire into.
Tobias stood in the center of the cavern, stretching out with that sixth sense, trying to narrow and focus its scope down the other hallway. Slowly his sense reached outward past the irritating rock-throwers toward the war drums. Hurled stones slid off his armor, clattering heavily into the floor or nicking and scraping his hands. Ten his mind counted no twelve, no…the paladin’s eyes fluttered open.
“We have to get back into the tunnel!” He spun, dodged a rock aimed for his head and rushed toward his friends. He slipped into the tunnel without so much as another scrape.
Motega ushered him past, his bow still aimed into the chamber. “You. Priest. Go. Light the way. Watch for ambush. Mage and I follow.” Magnus withdrew his crossbow and stood beside the Rornman giving Fitz and Tobias a head start.
Nearly an hour passed in the slow retreat back toward Llyndofare. The war drums never stopped singing. At the edge of sight, a mass of creatures hovered in the darkness, always getting closer but never piercing the light. Their war drums had upped the rhythm of the song, speeding the pursuit but keeping the tribe at bay.
“Stop!” Motega grunted toward the paladin and priest. “Can’t outrun them. Stay and fight.” Fitz and Tobias moved back toward the others and prepared for a lengthy battle. The Heroes waited anxiously together, Motega and Tobias in front, the mage and priest behind. Tobias had his sword drawn, Motega his bow and Magnus’ crossbow rested on the paladin’s shoulder for better aim.
The war drums continued to approach for many minutes until the creatures were once again at the end of the light, only forty feet away. Then, the sound of the drums died leaving an eerie quiet in the halls.
Slowly, two of the creatures shuffled into the light. They were human size with arms slightly longer than the average man. Their skin had a gray tone about it, similar to that of a headstone. Frazzled hair the color of pitch hung loosely toward their naked bodies. Their lips were overly large and long, giving the appearance of a head that would flip open if those lips parted. They had a steep forehead that nearly overshadowed their black eyes, useless eyes in the depths of the underdark.
The two that had taken a step into the light parted, opening a dark gap in their lines. Out of the gap stepped another of the creature. This beast was taller and meatier than the others. His body was covered in necklaces adorned with body parts. A skirt of flayed skin covered his genitals and hung loosely to his knees. In his right hand he wielded a huge sword, the blade made of stone. Two long strands of hoarse hair hung over the front of his face. Those strands were died a deep red with what could’ve only been blood.
The beast took two tentative steps toward the Heroes and started gibbering in some guttural tongue. He heaved his sword into the ground; it easily pierced the dirt floor. Once done, he stood facing in the direction of the Heroes. No one moved and the beast erupted into a fit. He yelled and screamed and flailed about but took no step forward.
A low growl issued from Motega and the beast shut up. Motega took a step forward, dropped his bow and started howling back. The Rornman grabbed his necklace of scorpiot tail-barbs and dwem ears and whirled it about as he used his native tongue. To finish his display, the Rornman grabbed his crotch and barked what only could’ve been a profanity at the creature.
The creature laughed, his lips splitting open to reveal jagged teeth. He held out a necklace and shook it toward the Heroes. Dangling from the necklace were the testicles of human men. Then he turned toward his tribe and shouted out a phrase before turning back around. Movement exploded behind the tribe chief. And what looked like a large package was dropped at the chief’s legs. The chief extended one of his gangly arms downward and yanked on the package.
A bald man unfolded and was lifted upward. The beast growled at him in the deep tongue, set him down, then slapped him on the back of the head. The blow wasn’t a strong one but was more than enough to splay the old, starved man onto the ground. A gush of blood fled from his nose onto the uncaring floor.
Tobias’ eyes filled with rage and he took a step toward the chief. Fitz’s arm flashed out and caught him by the shoulder. “Wait,” the cleric pleaded. Tobias only grunted.
The old man struggled for a minute to right his self. Then he brushed off the crusty rags he wore. “The...they want me to speak for them,” he stammered. The chief muttered something and the man proceeded to translate. “They say you’ve invaded their territory and your lives are forfeit. You are encouraged to surrender so that some of you may live.”
“Tell them,” Fitz began, “that we mean them no harm. We have only come in search of the scorpiots and dwem that have attacked our homes.”
After the translation the chief laughed again. “He says,” the beaten man replied, “that he cares not for the bugs nor the dwem. They will all die if they come this way again. And that you should drop your weapons now, to make it easier on yourself.”
“Never.” Motega growled.
The old man shuddered and translated. The beast again only laughed his horrible, wicked laugh. “He says that you challenge him. And that he accepts. You,” the man pointed to Motega, “will fight him in a fair match. If you win you may leave with your lives. If not…” the rest of the sentence faded to nothing.
“Fine,” Motega answered. He unsheathed his longsword and started forward. Motega stopped halfway between the Heroes and the deep folk. The chief backhanded the man into his clan and withdrew his sword from the earth.
With two great strides the beast had reached Motega. It swung with all its strength but Motega ducked to the side, his longsword extended and dug into the chief’s calf. The beast roared in pain and staggered a few steps. Then he turned toward the Rornman.
Motega lifted his blade and licked it. “First blood,” he roared as he charged the chief.
Second update today....woohoo!
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For several long hours the Heroes walked in the near-darkness without finding another diverging trail. The corridor wasn’t an evenly worked path and yet it never thinned to less than ten feet across. Odd broken fragments of stone reached out like fingers, grasping for the Heroes but never quite catching their prey. Fitz continued to leave lighted pebbles every now and then along the path. As a result a dim trail of light snaked along behind the Heroes, its tail flickering out and shortening slowly in the timeless depths.
Rather suddenly, the tunnel emptied its travelers in a high circular chamber. Six perfectly smoothed pillars swam from the center of the floor to kiss and support the ceiling. Like the pillars, the walls were smooth from being worked with small unusual triangle shaped holes piercing it like a veil in weird places. There was no discernible pattern to the odd gaps in the wall, just that they circled the entire cavern.
All of this detail was readily available to the Heroes, yet their eyes were drawn to the smoothed ceiling of the chamber. Not to the chamber itself so much as the corpses dangling there from lengths of rope. Two naked dwem bodies hung staring emptily downward toward the Heroes, nooses taught. Beside the dwem hung four scorpiot carapaces. A multitude of crude blows could be seen engraved into the carapaces. Whatever weapons had been used, hadn’t been very sharp.
Motega grunted and quietly reached for an arrow.
Tobias reached inward, calling upon the abilities granted by his divine counterpart. His senses magnified stretched outward and he recognized the presence of tainted creatures. His arm shot out, “There!”
Motega loosed the arrow he had quietly nocked. It flew through one of the odd holes and clattered hollowly against a second wall. Tobias’ hand traced the movement of one of the creatures and then he dropped it.
“There are at least eight of them,” the paladin began but was silenced. A deep rumble similar to thunder rang out down the corridor. Not the corridor they had traveled, but the other that exited this vaulted chamber. Another of the rumbling sounds followed but this was slightly higher pitched. Then the two sounds rhythmically alternated in a slow vibrating song.
“War drums,” Motega grunted. He took a step backward, miraculously avoiding a rock hurled through one of the odd triangular holes. The Heroes except Tobias took steps backward toward the trail. Motega had another arrow knocked but couldn’t guess which of the many holes to fire into.
Tobias stood in the center of the cavern, stretching out with that sixth sense, trying to narrow and focus its scope down the other hallway. Slowly his sense reached outward past the irritating rock-throwers toward the war drums. Hurled stones slid off his armor, clattering heavily into the floor or nicking and scraping his hands. Ten his mind counted no twelve, no…the paladin’s eyes fluttered open.
“We have to get back into the tunnel!” He spun, dodged a rock aimed for his head and rushed toward his friends. He slipped into the tunnel without so much as another scrape.
Motega ushered him past, his bow still aimed into the chamber. “You. Priest. Go. Light the way. Watch for ambush. Mage and I follow.” Magnus withdrew his crossbow and stood beside the Rornman giving Fitz and Tobias a head start.
Nearly an hour passed in the slow retreat back toward Llyndofare. The war drums never stopped singing. At the edge of sight, a mass of creatures hovered in the darkness, always getting closer but never piercing the light. Their war drums had upped the rhythm of the song, speeding the pursuit but keeping the tribe at bay.
“Stop!” Motega grunted toward the paladin and priest. “Can’t outrun them. Stay and fight.” Fitz and Tobias moved back toward the others and prepared for a lengthy battle. The Heroes waited anxiously together, Motega and Tobias in front, the mage and priest behind. Tobias had his sword drawn, Motega his bow and Magnus’ crossbow rested on the paladin’s shoulder for better aim.
The war drums continued to approach for many minutes until the creatures were once again at the end of the light, only forty feet away. Then, the sound of the drums died leaving an eerie quiet in the halls.
Slowly, two of the creatures shuffled into the light. They were human size with arms slightly longer than the average man. Their skin had a gray tone about it, similar to that of a headstone. Frazzled hair the color of pitch hung loosely toward their naked bodies. Their lips were overly large and long, giving the appearance of a head that would flip open if those lips parted. They had a steep forehead that nearly overshadowed their black eyes, useless eyes in the depths of the underdark.
The two that had taken a step into the light parted, opening a dark gap in their lines. Out of the gap stepped another of the creature. This beast was taller and meatier than the others. His body was covered in necklaces adorned with body parts. A skirt of flayed skin covered his genitals and hung loosely to his knees. In his right hand he wielded a huge sword, the blade made of stone. Two long strands of hoarse hair hung over the front of his face. Those strands were died a deep red with what could’ve only been blood.
The beast took two tentative steps toward the Heroes and started gibbering in some guttural tongue. He heaved his sword into the ground; it easily pierced the dirt floor. Once done, he stood facing in the direction of the Heroes. No one moved and the beast erupted into a fit. He yelled and screamed and flailed about but took no step forward.
A low growl issued from Motega and the beast shut up. Motega took a step forward, dropped his bow and started howling back. The Rornman grabbed his necklace of scorpiot tail-barbs and dwem ears and whirled it about as he used his native tongue. To finish his display, the Rornman grabbed his crotch and barked what only could’ve been a profanity at the creature.
The creature laughed, his lips splitting open to reveal jagged teeth. He held out a necklace and shook it toward the Heroes. Dangling from the necklace were the testicles of human men. Then he turned toward his tribe and shouted out a phrase before turning back around. Movement exploded behind the tribe chief. And what looked like a large package was dropped at the chief’s legs. The chief extended one of his gangly arms downward and yanked on the package.
A bald man unfolded and was lifted upward. The beast growled at him in the deep tongue, set him down, then slapped him on the back of the head. The blow wasn’t a strong one but was more than enough to splay the old, starved man onto the ground. A gush of blood fled from his nose onto the uncaring floor.
Tobias’ eyes filled with rage and he took a step toward the chief. Fitz’s arm flashed out and caught him by the shoulder. “Wait,” the cleric pleaded. Tobias only grunted.
The old man struggled for a minute to right his self. Then he brushed off the crusty rags he wore. “The...they want me to speak for them,” he stammered. The chief muttered something and the man proceeded to translate. “They say you’ve invaded their territory and your lives are forfeit. You are encouraged to surrender so that some of you may live.”
“Tell them,” Fitz began, “that we mean them no harm. We have only come in search of the scorpiots and dwem that have attacked our homes.”
After the translation the chief laughed again. “He says,” the beaten man replied, “that he cares not for the bugs nor the dwem. They will all die if they come this way again. And that you should drop your weapons now, to make it easier on yourself.”
“Never.” Motega growled.
The old man shuddered and translated. The beast again only laughed his horrible, wicked laugh. “He says that you challenge him. And that he accepts. You,” the man pointed to Motega, “will fight him in a fair match. If you win you may leave with your lives. If not…” the rest of the sentence faded to nothing.
“Fine,” Motega answered. He unsheathed his longsword and started forward. Motega stopped halfway between the Heroes and the deep folk. The chief backhanded the man into his clan and withdrew his sword from the earth.
With two great strides the beast had reached Motega. It swung with all its strength but Motega ducked to the side, his longsword extended and dug into the chief’s calf. The beast roared in pain and staggered a few steps. Then he turned toward the Rornman.
Motega lifted his blade and licked it. “First blood,” he roared as he charged the chief.
Funeris
First Post
Chapter 8: Into the Deep Continued
Third update today....D@mn I'm good
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A mighty clang rang out as Motega’s steel sword was blocked by the chief’s stone blade. The two faced off, both growling over their crossed weapons each trying to gain the advantage. Motega knew this brute probably had more strength and was holding on for just the right moment. The steel squealed in delight as it slid against the stone, the chief edging Motega backward toward his clan.
One step then two Motega allowed himself to edge backward then he thrust with all his might. The chief had anticipated the move however, his muscles bulging as he forced his weapon at Motega.
He hadn’t anticipated the Rornman’s technique though. Motega fell sideways to the ground allowing the brute to stumble forward over him. The chief kicked the Rorn hard in the ribs but Motega’s sword danced in the air, slicing an inch deep into the thigh and up through his buttocks.
The chief fell forward and landed with a thud in the dirt. All the cheers from the clan raised by Motega’s fall were awkwardly silenced. Motega stood, a jagged stabbing pain in his chest. He took a step to allow the chief to stand.
Scowling, the brute climbed to his knees. Motega swept in and swiftly kicked him in the rear, again planting the chief’s face in the dirt of the deep. A roar of hissing arose from the chief’s clan. Motega bowed and took four steps away to allow the chief the chance to stand.
The chief spun on his stomach to face the Rornman before standing. He slowly stood, drops of his blood splattering the dusty floor. Motega roared as he rushed at the chieftain. The chief brought up his left hand, flinging a handful of dirt into Motega’s eyes.
Motega’s attack went wide; the brute dodged and brought his stone blade down on the Rorn’s arm. He rolled with the blow as well as he could but the wound had already begun to soak the studded leather armor. Deftly, his sword swiped upward to block a killing blow and Motega spun toward the chief, unleashing a furious kick in the groin.
The brute stumbled backward to absorb the blow but found Motega raining blow after blow upon him. His back quickly found the wall while the steel sword quickly and continually found soft gray flesh to pierce. Motega leapt back allowing the brute to come forward into his killing blow.
The chief lashed out one final time. Motega ducked, bringing his sword in after the beast nearly slicing its arm off. The blade continued downward and turned, hitting a vital artery in the creature’s thigh. Motega grabbed the hilt with both hands and slammed the blade through the chief’s chest.
The chief’s face went slack even as he dropped his stone blade. A slick sound accompanied the departing steel blade. The brute fell to the floor. Motega immediately stooped downward and removed the chief’s member. Then he strung it onto his necklace.
Silence had fallen in the tunnel. The remaining members of the clan sensed the fall of their chieftain. After Motega walked away, two of the other creatures came forward to drag the body back toward the circular chamber. One of the creatures was screaming something at the old man.
“They say, you’re free to go.” The old man had a longing look in his eyes.
“Well you tell them that we aren’t leaving without you,” Tobias retorted his sword still drawn. The old man translated and the beast standing beside him looked furious. It raised its stone axe and severed the old slave’s foot. The man collapsed into a bloody heap on the floor.
Tobias charged toward the evil humanoids. Fitz’s hands weren’t quick enough to stop him. Magnus’ hands did touch but not to stop. As the mage’s hands touched, the muscles in Tobias’ body swelled. Motega and Fitz quickly chased after the paladin.
Tobias’ greatsword found the gut of the beast that had severed the man’s foot. It dove in and twisted with his great strength, turning the creature’s intestines into a puddle of gore. One of its brothers stepped up next to Tobias but the sword easily tore through that one too.
More of the creatures rushed and Tobias was under a multitude of attacks. Motega stepped beside him, diverting much of the attention while Fitz slid behind the massive fighter. He slid a wand out of his pack and tapped the paladin. Tobias felt another magical warmth spread through his body as his wounds began to close.
His sword rose again and again, decimating the beasts in front of him. Several tried to step past the youth to get at the Rornman only to find Tobias’ blade change direction and sever them clean in half. With every hit that opened a wound on his body, Fitz’s wand snapped in to heal the damage.
For minutes that seemed like years, the beasts kept charging and dying. And then all of a sudden there were no more. Digging through the pile of corpses, the paladin pulled the wounded slave up.
"Most useful thing I’ve ever bought,” Fitz murmured as he slid the wand back into his pouch.
“Let’s get back to the surface,” Tobias said, a tired expression on his face. “I can sense more of them not far back. We have to get this man to the surface.” He turned, the slave in his arms and started the rush back toward the well.
Third update today....D@mn I'm good
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A mighty clang rang out as Motega’s steel sword was blocked by the chief’s stone blade. The two faced off, both growling over their crossed weapons each trying to gain the advantage. Motega knew this brute probably had more strength and was holding on for just the right moment. The steel squealed in delight as it slid against the stone, the chief edging Motega backward toward his clan.
One step then two Motega allowed himself to edge backward then he thrust with all his might. The chief had anticipated the move however, his muscles bulging as he forced his weapon at Motega.
He hadn’t anticipated the Rornman’s technique though. Motega fell sideways to the ground allowing the brute to stumble forward over him. The chief kicked the Rorn hard in the ribs but Motega’s sword danced in the air, slicing an inch deep into the thigh and up through his buttocks.
The chief fell forward and landed with a thud in the dirt. All the cheers from the clan raised by Motega’s fall were awkwardly silenced. Motega stood, a jagged stabbing pain in his chest. He took a step to allow the chief to stand.
Scowling, the brute climbed to his knees. Motega swept in and swiftly kicked him in the rear, again planting the chief’s face in the dirt of the deep. A roar of hissing arose from the chief’s clan. Motega bowed and took four steps away to allow the chief the chance to stand.
The chief spun on his stomach to face the Rornman before standing. He slowly stood, drops of his blood splattering the dusty floor. Motega roared as he rushed at the chieftain. The chief brought up his left hand, flinging a handful of dirt into Motega’s eyes.
Motega’s attack went wide; the brute dodged and brought his stone blade down on the Rorn’s arm. He rolled with the blow as well as he could but the wound had already begun to soak the studded leather armor. Deftly, his sword swiped upward to block a killing blow and Motega spun toward the chief, unleashing a furious kick in the groin.
The brute stumbled backward to absorb the blow but found Motega raining blow after blow upon him. His back quickly found the wall while the steel sword quickly and continually found soft gray flesh to pierce. Motega leapt back allowing the brute to come forward into his killing blow.
The chief lashed out one final time. Motega ducked, bringing his sword in after the beast nearly slicing its arm off. The blade continued downward and turned, hitting a vital artery in the creature’s thigh. Motega grabbed the hilt with both hands and slammed the blade through the chief’s chest.
The chief’s face went slack even as he dropped his stone blade. A slick sound accompanied the departing steel blade. The brute fell to the floor. Motega immediately stooped downward and removed the chief’s member. Then he strung it onto his necklace.
Silence had fallen in the tunnel. The remaining members of the clan sensed the fall of their chieftain. After Motega walked away, two of the other creatures came forward to drag the body back toward the circular chamber. One of the creatures was screaming something at the old man.
“They say, you’re free to go.” The old man had a longing look in his eyes.
“Well you tell them that we aren’t leaving without you,” Tobias retorted his sword still drawn. The old man translated and the beast standing beside him looked furious. It raised its stone axe and severed the old slave’s foot. The man collapsed into a bloody heap on the floor.
Tobias charged toward the evil humanoids. Fitz’s hands weren’t quick enough to stop him. Magnus’ hands did touch but not to stop. As the mage’s hands touched, the muscles in Tobias’ body swelled. Motega and Fitz quickly chased after the paladin.
Tobias’ greatsword found the gut of the beast that had severed the man’s foot. It dove in and twisted with his great strength, turning the creature’s intestines into a puddle of gore. One of its brothers stepped up next to Tobias but the sword easily tore through that one too.
More of the creatures rushed and Tobias was under a multitude of attacks. Motega stepped beside him, diverting much of the attention while Fitz slid behind the massive fighter. He slid a wand out of his pack and tapped the paladin. Tobias felt another magical warmth spread through his body as his wounds began to close.
His sword rose again and again, decimating the beasts in front of him. Several tried to step past the youth to get at the Rornman only to find Tobias’ blade change direction and sever them clean in half. With every hit that opened a wound on his body, Fitz’s wand snapped in to heal the damage.
For minutes that seemed like years, the beasts kept charging and dying. And then all of a sudden there were no more. Digging through the pile of corpses, the paladin pulled the wounded slave up.
"Most useful thing I’ve ever bought,” Fitz murmured as he slid the wand back into his pouch.
“Let’s get back to the surface,” Tobias said, a tired expression on his face. “I can sense more of them not far back. We have to get this man to the surface.” He turned, the slave in his arms and started the rush back toward the well.
TheYeti1775
Adventurer
Yippiee three updates today.
You know you have fatally errored now Funeris.
I know you are capable of it.
So now I shall bug you three times a day.
hahaha
Chat with ya tomorrow.
You know you have fatally errored now Funeris.
I know you are capable of it.
So now I shall bug you three times a day.
hahaha
Chat with ya tomorrow.
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