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In the Valus - The Heroes of Marchford (Chapter 14 Continues - 12/24/08)
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<blockquote data-quote="Funeris" data-source="post: 1977634" data-attributes="member: 22792"><p><strong>Chapter 8: Into the Deep Continued</strong></p><p></p><p>Second update today....woohoo!</p><p></p><p>-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------</p><p></p><p>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.</p><p></p><p>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.</p><p></p><p>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.</p><p></p><p>Motega grunted and quietly reached for an arrow.</p><p></p><p>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!”</p><p></p><p>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.</p><p></p><p>“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.</p><p></p><p>“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.</p><p></p><p>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.</p><p></p><p>“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.</p><p></p><p>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.</p><p></p><p>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.</p><p></p><p>“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.</p><p></p><p>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.</p><p></p><p>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.</p><p></p><p>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.</p><p></p><p>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.</p><p></p><p>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.</p><p></p><p>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.</p><p></p><p>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.</p><p></p><p>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.</p><p></p><p>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.”</p><p></p><p>“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.”</p><p></p><p>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.”</p><p></p><p>“Never.” Motega growled.</p><p></p><p>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.</p><p></p><p>“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. </p><p></p><p>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.</p><p></p><p>Motega lifted his blade and licked it. “First blood,” he roared as he charged the chief.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Funeris, post: 1977634, member: 22792"] [b]Chapter 8: Into the Deep Continued[/b] Second update today....woohoo! ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 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. [/QUOTE]
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