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JollyDoc's Age of Worms (Updated 11/30, Epilogue!)
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<blockquote data-quote="gfunk" data-source="post: 2813651" data-attributes="member: 1813"><p>A HOUSE DIVIDED</p><p></p><p>“Can you believe they actually fell for it?” Shay asked for at least the tenth time in the past ten minutes.</p><p>“Our story was perfectly plausible,” Giovanni replied, again for at least the tenth time. “You and I stay behind to make sure there are no other ‘visitors’ to this supposedly ‘forgotten’ cairn. After all, we’ve had two in as many days. Fortunately for us, they came to help, but we all know that not everyone in Daggerford has our best interests at heart, heroes or not. So what if we decide to cut our watch a little short? Who’s to be the wiser? By the time we finish our ‘business,’ we should be right on schedule to rendezvous with them.”</p><p>“Yeah, but that might be a problem,” Shay said. “They didn’t say where they’d be.” </p><p>“They said they would avoid the gatehouse and try the blue metal doors,” Giovanni answered. “This is our team we’re talking about, remember? Subtlety is not their strong suit. They should leave behind a trail a blind man could follow.”</p><p>Shay nodded. They had been over all this before, but he was getting antsy to be on their way. “Do you think it’s safe to go now?”</p><p>Giovanni was reminded of a small child on a long trip, ‘Are we there yet? Are we there yet?’ He sighed, “Yes, it should be ok. We’ve given them enough of a head start. Let’s go.”</p><p></p><p>The warlock pulled a clear, crystal wand from his belt and tapped Shay once with it, then himself, rendering them both invisible. The pair then made their way back to the portal and crossed over, Giovanni leading. Cautiously, and careful to avoid any of the traps they’d previously located, they back-tracked to the silent gallery and the courtesan’s tomb beyond. This had been their plan all along, to remove the valuables there and determine if they would be of any immediate use to the group, or if they would be of monetary worth later. Grim had been right, they both agreed, like it or not, they were trying to save the world, and sometimes the ends justified the means, despite what a certain pair of do-gooders might believe. </p><p></p><p>Working quickly, they removed the contents from each of the six boxes, retrieving the thin, gold wand they had discovered previously, the clay tablets bearing the love poems, a set of silk gowns, which crumbled to dust when they touched them, leaving behind the pearls and turquoise embroidered into them, and finally, a matching platinum necklace, ring and earrings. When they’d finished, they picked up the trail of their comrades and started down the long passage which led to the temple chamber.</p><p></p><p>They had gone no more than half the length of the hall, when Havok heard Shay draw a sharp breath beside him. He turned, the enhanced vision that was his birthright allowing him to see the invisible form of the rogue, and saw that Shay had his bow out and an arrow knocked. Before the warlock could stop him, the rogue had fired, instantly ending his concealing invisibility. Havok jerked his head around to see just what Shay was shooting at, and his eyes went wide in shock. It was the shadow spider. It was crouched not sixty feet from them, blocking the entrance to the temple.</p><p>“Shay, you fool!” he hissed. “We could have snuck past it!”</p><p>“No, it heard us,” Shay said, shaking his head in panic. “I know it did! What do we do?”</p><p>Before Havok could answer, he saw familiar shadows engulf the spider, and to his horror, deposit it directly in front of them!</p><p></p><p>“Hold on!” Havok yelled as he saw Shay start to backpedal away. The warlock seized the rogue by the hand and whisked them both through the astral plane to the spot he had envisioned in his mind’s eye back on the Prime…the small chamber where the League had earlier fought the dread wraiths.</p><p>“That was close,” Havok gasped.</p><p>“You’re telling me,” Shay stammered, his eyes still showing mostly white. “What now? That thing’s still out there.”</p><p>“Do you still have a Fly potion?” Havok asked. When Shay nodded, he continued, “Good. When we leave this room, you need to make directly for the ceiling of the temple. We need to get above the spider. Then we can rain hell down upon it and it won’t be able to touch us.” </p><p>“Good plan,” Shay nodded enthusiastically, but no sooner had the words left his mouth, than shadows boiled in the corners of the room and the massive bulk of the arachnid materialized again, nearly filling the entire chamber.</p><p>“Havok!” Shay screamed, the spider’s mandibles less than a foot from his face. Once more Giovanni grabbed the rogue’s hand and dimension-walked back into the temple.</p><p>“Now Shay!” he cried. Shay scrabbled in his belt pouch and drew out a potion flask. Bobbling it in his trembling hands, he finally managed to uncork it and gulp it down. He then leaped into the air, positioning himself in the exact center of the room at ceiling height. Havok remained invisible, and he moved to a dark corner, waiting for the spider to show itself.</p><p></p><p>Moment’s later it did, appearing on the ceiling not five feet from Shay. Reflexively, the rogue somersaulted backwards, knocking another arrow as he went and firing. The arrow bounced harmlessly off the spider’s carapace, and then the behemoth was scuttling towards him. It’s snapping fore claws lashed out at Shay, tearing into his flesh and then seizing him, shaking him like a rag-doll. In moments, he lost consciousness, dangling limply in the spider’s grasp.</p><p></p><p>Havok watched, horror-struck at the lightning fast manner in which the creature had dispatched Shay. The warlock knew what would come next: the spider would now travel to the Plane of Shadow, taking Shay to its larder to kill at its leisure. Havok concentrated, focusing his power, waiting for just the right moment. Then, just as the shadows began to gather, he unleashed his fury, a green spike of energy lancing out and blasting the arachnid, nearly dislodging it from its perch on the ceiling. The jolt was enough to cause the spider to lose focus, failing in its attempt to enter the Shadow Plane. However, it quickly recovered its composure, and called the shadows to it once more. Again, Havok struck, refusing to allow the monster to escape to its lair. Great gouts of blood and ichor now spurted from the horrific wounds in the spider’s carapace. Then, slowly, the spider held Shay out in front of it with one claw, clasping a second one around the rogue’s neck, but not applying pressure. The threat was implicit.</p><p></p><p>“Cease your attack, human,” the spider hissed.</p><p>“Release him, or die where you hang!” Havok cried back, now fully visible in the wake of his assault.</p><p>“If you continue your onslaught, I will kill him now,” the spider responded. “You may slay me, but your friend will die in the bargain. Perhaps we can come to an…understanding.”</p><p>“What are babbling about fiend?” Havok shouted. “You have attacked us repeatedly, without provocation. Now you speak of parley?”</p><p>“I am called Flycatcher,” the spider said calmly, “and it is you who entered my lair, not I yours. You and your friends are the second such group of invaders I have encountered in recent days. That is the nature of the bargain I now offer.”</p><p>“You mean the wizard?” Havok asked. “Ondabar?”</p><p>“I know of no wizard, human,” Flycatcher replied. “No, it is the Marquis of the River that I refer to. He who has tormented me and despoiled my home. Here is my offer: bring me the head of the Marquis, and I shall return your friend to you…relatively unharmed.”</p><p>Havok laughed. “You expect me to trust you to keep him safe while I play assassin for you? I won’t leave here without him.”</p><p>“Hardly an assassin,” Flycatcher said. “The Marquis is a creature of evil…one of undeath. His departure from this world would be a boon. As for your friend, am I to simply return him to you and trust you will hold up your end of the agreement?”</p><p>“Then we are at an impasse,” Havok shrugged. “What do you suggest?”</p><p>“Offer me something of equal value that I may hold in trust until you fulfill our arrangement, and I will give him to you now.”</p><p>Havok pondered his dilemma. Flycatcher left him with little choice. No doubt he could slay the spider, but Shay’s life would surely be forfeit. But what did he have to offer that would be worth Shay’s life? Suddenly, it came to him.</p><p>“I do have one thing,” he said, reaching inside his cloak and drawing forth the Talisman of the Sphere. “It is a minor artifact, capable of controlling an even more powerful one. If you have dwelt here in the tombs of the Wind Dukes, surely you have heard of such?”</p><p>Flycatcher’s many eyes gleamed as he focused on the wire loop. “Indeed I have,” he whispered. “I agree to your terms. Lay the Talisman on the floor.” Havok walked slowly to the center of the chamber and complied. Cautiously, Flycatcher crawled down the wall and placed Shay’s body on the ground, snatching up the Talisman simultaneously.</p><p>“You will find the Marquis in a chamber far below this tomb. Follow the River of Blood. Bring me his head!” Abruptly, shadows whirled around the spider, and in an instant, he was gone.</p><p></p><p>Shay blinked in confusion as Giovanni healed the last of his wounds with the curative wand he kept in his belt for just such emergencies.</p><p>“What happened?” the rogue mumbled.</p><p>“You almost got yourself killed…again!” the warlock snapped. “Sometimes I don’t know if you’re the most craven coward I’ve ever met, or the bravest fool! Either way, I’m not going to let you take me with you on your death quest. Now come on, we’ve got to find the others.” He turned on his heel and started towards the blue metal doors. Bewildered, Shay climbed to his feet and followed.</p><p></p><p>They found the room containing the golden Wind Duke statue as undisturbed as when the League had passed through well over an hour before. Giovanni only gave the sculpture a passing glance as he headed for the far door. “Check this,” he ordered, and Shay, a hurt look on his face, hurried to comply. </p><p>“All clear,” the rogue said quietly, and Giovanni pushed open the portal. Beyond, he beheld the same tableau Grim had stumbled upon earlier: Ondabar, encased in the crackling sphere of electricity, injured, but not clearly dead nor alive. The only exit from the chamber seemed to be blocked by a large, iron door.</p><p>“Surely they must have seen this,” the warlock said, musing aloud to himself. “Why would they just leave him?” Obviously there was some danger here that he could not see. His companions must have tried to free the wizard and fallen prey to whatever trap was laid for them, then been forced to flee. He pondered the situation a moment longer, then reached a decision.</p><p>“I’m going to try and dispel that field from here,” he said over his shoulder to Shay. “This may take awhile.”</p><p></p><p>For a time, Shay watched his friend as he hurled blast after blast of magic into the far chamber, apparently to no visible effect. Soon, the rogue’s attention wandered, fixing upon the only other thing in the room…the statue. Looking at Giovanni to make sure he wasn’t looking, Shay nonchalantly wandered over to the sculpture. It was an exquisite work or art, solid gold, unless he missed his guess. Briefly, he contemplated simply tipping the entire thing over into his magical sack. It was capable of holding fifteen-hundred pounds, but then he realized that the thing must way twice that much. Then, he noticed its eyes…sapphires the size of his fist, each of them. With one last glance at Giovanni, he pulled one of his daggers and set to work.</p><p></p><p>“Got it!” Giovanni cried as the shimmering energy field flickered and died, dropping Ondabar unceremoniously to the floor.</p><p>“Me too!” Shay shouted, and the warlock turned. The rogue held up two huge gems, smiling from ear to ear. Suddenly, from the walls on three sides, three of the carved warrior reliefs stepped physically into the room, holding great marble swords in their huge hands. </p><p>“Not again,” Havok moaned, rolling his eyes. “Run!” he shouted. Heeding his own advice, he darted into the chamber where Ondabar lay, seizing the unconscious wizard by the wrist. Shay was right on his heels, narrowly avoiding being decapitated by the carvings as he rolled between them. Havok held out his other hand, and Shay grabbed it. The warlock focused on the iron door across the chamber, mentally gauging the distance. Then, in the blink of an eye, he stepped between dimensions again, reappearing with his two passengers just on the other side…overlooking a forty-foot deep pit! He could see the bottom of the shaft, and the tunnel leading east from it. To the northeast was an iron wall, fused to the stone. </p><p>“Hang on,” he said to Shay, and then he quickly transported them to the bottom of the pit. Now he could clearly see the opening at the far end of the tunnel, and he could hear the roar of the falls beyond. He and Shay carried Ondabar between them, and made their way to the far end of the passage. Just as they were gazing out over the chasm and the churning falls, Grim, Drasek and Hawk appeared out of thin air on the far side.</p><p></p><p>“So you gave the Talisman to the spider??” Hawk asked, becoming more and more incredulous as Giovanni’s story unfolded. </p><p>“Yes, I told you I didn’t have any other choice!” the young warlock said defensively.</p><p>“And so now you have to go and assassinate some marquis that you’ve never met?” Hawk pressed.</p><p>“An UNDEAD marquis!” Giovanni said in exasperation.</p><p>Hawk shook his head. “I knew it was a mistake leaving you two alone back there.”</p><p>“A mistake?” Giovanni shouted, “How can you say that? Was it not we who found the way to free Ondabar where the rest of you failed?”</p><p>The civilar glanced over to where Grubber was tending the last of the wizard’s wounds. </p><p>“I suppose,” Hawk agreed reluctantly. “But this means that instead of leaving now that we have what we came for, instead we have to go even deeper into this death trap.”</p><p>“Leaving?? Why on earth would you do that?” Ondabar was now standing over the pair, his eyes wide in disbelief.</p><p>“What do you mean?” asked Hawk. “We came here to rescue you. You’re safe now. We can go.”</p><p>The wizard shook his head, “No, no. Don’t you see? Do you even know where we are?”</p><p>“Somewhere below the Whispering Cairn,” Hawk answered.</p><p>Ondabar rolled his eyes, “Ah, if only Vladius were here. He would understand. But alas, that boy always was the impetuous one. Never interested in the defensive magic, no. With him it was always, ‘When am I going to learn Fireball? When am I going to learn Fireball?’ I warned him, ‘Vladius,’ I said, ‘remember the old saying…he who lives by the Fireball, dies by the Fireball.’ Anyway, where was I? Ah yes, the tomb! You are only half right. We WERE in the Whispering Cairn, but the magic of the portal has taken us hundreds of miles from there. This is the tomb of Icosiol. You’ve heard of him?”</p><p>Hawk shook his head.</p><p>“Icosiol,” Ondabar explained, “was one of the greatest generals of the Wind Duke army, one of the seven so-called Wandering Dukes, champions of Law who forged a powerful artifact called the Scepter of Calim, and used it to end the war against the armies of Memnonnar. That defeat shattered the scepter, transforming it into what is known today as the Shattered Scepter of Calim. That is why I came here! The Wind Dukes had a habit of burying their weapons with their dead in the months after their victory. Not to honor the dead as much as to store these weapons in a safe place, so that should the Memnonnar rise again, the weapons would be available. I believe that something powerful indeed is hidden somewhere in this tomb, and if what you’ve told me is true about your adventures in Waterdeep, and Dagsumn’s unfortunate demise, I believe that this weapon can help us in the dark times to come.”</p><p>“Are you saying that a fragment of the Shattered Scepter might be here?” Giovanni asked, stunned at the prospect. </p><p>Ondabar shrugged. “If it is, then you must find it. It could be invaluable to you in the coming struggle.”</p><p>“Us?” the warlock asked. “What about you? Aren’t you coming with us?”</p><p>Ondabar shook his head. “The news that you have brought to me of the destruction of my home grieves me greatly. I must return there to see if any of my research may be salvaged. Also, in light of what Dagsumn stated in his letter, it may also be time to try and contact my one-time master, Malchor Harpell.”</p><p>Giovanni blinked. He had of course heard of the arch-mage, a powerful member of a powerful family of wizards who all-but-ruled the small town of Longsaddle. </p><p>“So,” Ondabar concluded. “I of course offer you thanks for my life, and I advise you caution in the continuation of your exploration. I will be most intrigued at your findings. Goodbye my youthful heroes. You have made an old man feel young again.” With that, he uttered two short spells, allowing him to fly, and then rendering him invisible, and was gone.</p><p></p><p>Grubber scowled as all of his companions flitted through the air above him, each under the effects of one sort of Fly spell or another. </p><p>“What about me?” he grumbled. “You know of my Oath.” Grumbar, Lord of the Earth frowned on any mode of travel which caused one’s feet to leave the life-giving soil or unchanging rock. Therefore, flying, and even travel by boat, was forbidden among his clergy except under the most dire of circumstances.</p><p>“Well,” Storm laughed, “you don’t think Grumbar would consider falling the same as flying, do you?”</p><p>“Very funny,” Grubber said, gazing over the lip of the seemingly bottomless pit into which the river of blood flowed, and down which his companions seemed intent on going. </p><p>“I’m serious!” the drow said. “Catch!” She tossed a small silver ring at him. He caught it deftly, and looked at it skeptically, certain it wouldn’t fit past the first knuckle. However, before his eyes, it seemed to expand, until it slipped easily on his finger.</p><p>“Now what?” he asked dubiously.</p><p>“Now…you jump!” Storm giggled. “You have faith, don’t you? Surely Grumbar wouldn’t let you die by smashing into the ground?”</p><p>Grubber’s scowl deepened. Mustering his resolve, he stepped off the edge of the pit…and began floating gently down, like a feather on a breeze.</p><p></p><p>The party followed the falling river down its tortuous path into the bowels of the earth. After sixty feet or so, the shaft narrowed from some to thirty feet to no more than twenty. Here the spray of the falls filled the air with a fine mist. Beyond the narrows, the shaft widened again and straightened for about a hundred feet. It was at the bottom of this second portion that Grubber beheld his greatest fear. The river was emptying into a lake!</p><p></p><p>Hawk and Grim had flown down ahead of the rest of the group, looking for just such a hazard. They saw the lake as well, and were just turning to rejoin the team, when Grim noticed a side tunnel entering the main shaft that they had overlooked on the way down. Floating in the mouth of this tunnel were two figures dressed head-to-toe in ceramic armor. Each one had a pair of longswords strapped across its back, and held a loaded crossbow in its hands. As Grim opened his mouth to shout a warning to Hawk, the first figure fired, its bolt burying itself in the civilar’s shoulder.</p><p></p><p>Havok saw the two flying warriors as well, some thirty feet below him. As he watched, Grim closed on their position, but the burly warrior was slowed in his movement by his own bulk. The warlock had recently learned of a new aspect to his innate abilities, and he felt that there was no better time than the present to try it. A sickly green burst of energy surged from his hand, striking the first armored figure and leaving it in a cloud of noxious vapor, before arcing towards the second. This one, however, moved with an uncanny speed, slipping beneath the ray with a grace belied by its encumbered form. </p><p></p><p>Meanwhile, Hawk saw a greater danger. Though Grubber was falling at a relatively slow speed that would cause him no harm upon impact, when his dense body hit the lake it would sink like a proverbial rock. The civilar soared upwards, pulling a flask from his belt which contained an elixir capable of conveying the ability to breath water upon its imbiber, and holding it out towards the falling goliath. </p><p>“Take it!” he shouted as Grubber drew near. As the priest fell past him, he reached out with one meaty hand and seized the flask, upending it as he plummeted. Above him, Drasek spoke the words to a powerful prayer, causing his body to enlarge as he was filled with the righteous might of Torm. The inquisitor then dove towards the surface of the lake, prepared to retrieve the goliath should the blood-red liquid of the lake prove more harmful than mere water. </p><p></p><p>Just as Grim reached the two flying warriors, both of them cork-screwed around and beneath him, one of them firing a parting shot at Havok, but managing to only hit one of the illusory images the warlock had just finished conjuring about himself. Grim recognized the beings as they passed. They were wind warriors, the elementally animated suits of armor he and his original team mates had first met in the Wind Duke Zosiel’s tomb inside the Whispering Cairn. As he watched, the pair zipped past him to take up a position at the lip of the lake, where its waters overflowed and continued to fall into the depths of the pit.</p><p></p><p>Havok unleashed a second chained noxious blast at the retreating wind warriors, striking both this time, but failing to achieve his desired effect of nauseating them to the point of defenselessness. Above him, Shay sipped from a potion flask, and instantly turned invisible, though Havok could still see him as he darted down to a position below the wind warriors. Hawk and Grim, meanwhile, both closed on the elementals from above. Drasek joined them, managing to strike one of the elementals a glancing blow before both of them, turned and dove into the black depths of the chasm, rapidly disappearing from view.</p><p></p><p>It was at that moment that Grubber struck the surface of the lake…and sank straight to the bottom, which fortunately was only twenty-five feet. Once there, able to breathe comfortably, he began slowly walking up the gradual incline towards the surface.</p><p></p><p>“That’s not the last we’ve seen of them, I’ll wager,” Drasek said as he joined Hawk and the others. The civilar nodded. It seemed that the Wind Dukes meant only for those who were truly determined and driven to discover their secrets. </p><p>Once Grubber had extricated himself from the lake, he stepped off into the void once more, and the descent into the depths continued.</p><p></p><p>Some hundred or more feet below the lake, the falls again accumulated, but this time only in a shallow basin before flowing onward, down a series of projections, creating even more mists in their cascade. It was here that the wind warriors made their final stand.</p><p></p><p>This time the pair was widely separated. They were apparently capable of learning from their mistakes, and they did not mean to be caught by Havok’s chain again. Before any of the team could do more than note their position, Faust darted ahead, flitting right up to the nearest warrior, and then darting back and forth in front of it, as if daring it to strike. </p><p>“What does he think he’s doing?” Drasek hissed.</p><p>“Drawing their fire,” Hawk answered, impressed by the temerity of the psion. “Let’s take advantage of the opportunity.”</p><p></p><p>The wind warrior never hesitated. Dropping its crossbow, it drew both swords in a single blurred action, striking like lightning at the dragonet. Both blows connected solidly, but to the amazement of his team mates, Faust only seemed grazed by the blows. </p><p>“Is that the best you can do?” he taunted his silent foe</p><p></p><p>Grim charged towards the second wind warrior as it drew a bead on Faust with its crossbow. However, as the dwarf closed, the elemental tossed its crossbow casually aside and drew its own blades, clanging them together in front of it. As it did so, a wave of pure sound struck Grim in the chest, momentarily stalling his charge. The wind warrior flowed forward, swords raised for a devastating strike, but at that moment, a spear-like bolt from Havok drove the creature back several feet. This was followed by an arrow from the darkness, fired by the now visible Shay. The shaft pierced the slit in the elemental’s helm and stuck there, quivering. The wind warrior staggered, stumbling through the air towards Grim, and landing a glancing blow against his stony hide. As it struck, the warrior began to crumble before Grim’s eyes, becoming dust in a matter of seconds, from its armor to its blades.</p><p></p><p>Hawk rushed to aid Faust, flying past the dragon/psion and plunging his sword into the mailed chest of the wind warrior. As he struck, he unleashed an burst of electricity through the sword, which flashed from every chink in the elemental’s armor. Withdrawing the blade, he spun, catching the warrior again with a back-handed chop. </p><p></p><p>As the melee continued, Grubber fell helplessly past all the combatants. He bumped against one of the sloping walls of the shaft, and scrabbled to gain a hand-hold. The water-slicked surface, however, allowed no purchase, and the goliath tumbled down the slope and disappeared into the darkness of the pit.</p><p></p><p>The remaining wind warrior clashed its own swords together, sending a sonic blast slamming into Hawk and Faust. As the pair reeled, a second blast from Havok hammered the elemental. Incredibly, the creature clutched at its midsection, and doubled over, silently retching. Havok had no idea how a creature with no discernable digestive tract could become nauseated, but he did not question his good fortune. As the wind warrior continued to heave, three arrows from Shay pierced its breast plate, and it too crumbled to dust.</p><p></p><p>The team began to regroup, preparing to follow Grubber’s plunge, but at that moment, four more wind warriors ascended from the pit, blocking their path. As one, Grim, Hawk and Drasek closed the distance to the elementals, bottle-necking them in the shaft so that they would have no opportunity to spread out and attack from all sides. Grim struck at the nearest warrior, his axe gouging deeply into its archaic armor. </p><p></p><p>While it was true that the three heroes had indeed stopped the forward progress of the warriors, it was equally true the elementals had them like-wise trapped. Moving in unison, the four warriors slammed their swords together, sending wave after wave of sonic force to buffet Grim, Hawk and Drasek. </p><p></p><p>Grubber’s fall into darkness seemed timeless, but he could still hear the echoes of battle above him. Soon, however, he began to see a dim glow of light from below him. The red waterfall crashed into a pool of jagged rocks in a large cave at the bottom of the shaft. An outlet of slow-moving water gurgled away to the south. The cavern beyond was large and wet, longer along its north-south axis, and roughly fifty feet across east to west. A pale, greenish-yellow light reflected off the river and walls downstream. The same light flickered and refracted off tiny crystals in the roof above, almost giving the cave the feel of being open to the night sky. As Grubber descended, he could see three figures standing by the side of the pool, staring up at him.</p><p></p><p>The mid-air battle raged on. The front-line fighters held their position, despite being repeatedly battered by the wind warriors’ sonic onslaught. Shay lent missile support, placing his shots with uncanny accuracy. Artillery was provided by Havok, Storm and Faust, in the form of eldritch blasts, lightning bolts, and elemental energy currents. No League member wavered, but one-by-one the wind warriors fell, succumbing to the strength of blows and firepower. Finally, the last one disintegrated, and without hesitating to savor their victory, the League sped onward, knowing they had to find Grubber before it was too late.</p><p></p><p>As Grubber came to a gentle landing in the pool, he noticed that the trio have moved farther away as he had come closer. Even now, one of them was shielding his eyes from the blinding light of the goliath’s Celestial Brilliance. In that light, however, Grubber saw that two of the three weren’t even remotely human. In fact, they were mohrgs! The third creature wore fine clothes, though they were the genteel, rotted garments of a generation ago. His skin was sallow, almost parchment-like in texture, and his taloned fingers, black, split tongue and cruel hooked teeth betrayed his distinct lack of humanity. He held a lantern in one hand, and its eerie green glow was the only other source of illumination in the cavern.</p><p></p><p>“A bit hard on the eyes, wouldn’t you say my good man?” the creature said in cultured tones. “Do you mind covering it up so that we can have a good look at you?”</p><p>Grubber was confused. Politics and diplomacy were not his strong suit. At least two of the beings were clearly undead, yet the third seemed intelligent, and they did not appear to offer any immediate threat. Still, all of his senses screamed for him to be on his guard for treachery, and yet, he was alone. Perhaps he could stall them until his team mates arrived.</p><p>“I will put it away,” he replied, tossing his cloak over his holy symbol, which was the source of the heavenly light. “I warn you though,” he continued. “Stay where you are. Come no closer.” The creature, and Grubber now thought there was something familiar about him, spread his empty hands. </p><p>“You must pardon the appearance of my companions,” he said. “They are but thralls and will not act without my leave. By the sounds I heard earlier, I assume you’re not alone.” He looked up towards the high ceiling. “It’s quiet now. I trust your friends are safe.” A small smile lifted the corners of his mouth. </p><p></p><p>At that moment, a small dragonet flitted into the chamber, making lazy circles in the air as it descended to hover above Grubber’s shoulder. The goliath breathed a sigh of relief as the rest of the League appeared, flying quickly down to join him in the pool.</p><p>“Ah, here they are now!” the creature said, clapping his hands.</p><p>“What is the meaning of this?” Drasek shouted, his eyes fixing on the mohrgs, an abomination in the eyes of Kelemvor. He hefted his maul as he took a step forward, Hawk right beside him, raising his sword defensively.</p><p>“No so fast gentlemen,” the creature said, taking a step back. “I mean you no harm, but if threatened, I shall be forced to defend myself.”</p><p>“Who…or what…are you?” Giovanni asked, stepping in front of the two crusaders.</p><p>“I can at least tell you what he is,” Faust said. “He is a true ghoul. They are a race of evolved undead. There is rumored to be an entire kingdom of them somewhere in the Underdark.</p><p>“What a perceptive familiar you have,” the ghoul said smiling. “I am, in fact, Moreto, the Marquis of Ravenstone.” He sketched a formal bow. “And whom do I have the pleasure of addressing?”</p><p>“Your executioners!” growled Drasek. Giovanni shot him a warning look.</p><p>“My friend is a bit…overzealous,” the warlock said, turning back to Moreto. “You said you are a marquis. Are you perhaps the Marquis of the River?”</p><p>Moreto looked confused. “I’ve never carried such a title. Where did you hear it?”</p><p>“Have you ever heard of a creature called Flycatcher,” Faust interjected, and he too received a withering glare from Giovanni.</p><p>“Ah, it becomes clear now,” Moreto laughed. “Did that old, crazed arachnid send you? Did he instruct you to kill me?”</p><p>“How do you know this?” Giovanni demanded. </p><p>“Because he is as predictable as he is evil,” Moreto said. “Did you know that his is the epitome of wickedness?” he addressed Drasek and Hawk.</p><p>“I made no such bargain,” Drasek sneered. “One form of evil is much like another. I’ll see you and the spider destroyed before the day is done!”</p><p>“And what of you?” Moreto asked, turning again to Giovanni. “Was it you that Flycatcher bargained with? They you must be a reasonable man. Allow me to make you a counter offer.”</p><p>“Why are we listening to this filth?” Drasek shouted. “His very existence is abhorrent!”</p><p>“I did not choose to be what I am,” Moreto said reasonably. “I was born who I am. So judge me if you must, but at least hear me out first.”</p><p>“Drasek, please,” Giovanni implored. “Stay your hand a moment more.” The inquisitor scowled, but did not advance any further. “What is your offer?” Giovanni then asked the ghoul.</p><p>“I knew we could be civilized,” Moreto smiled. “As I said, Flycatcher is evil, and treacherous. No doubt he somehow blackmailed you into this agreement. My offer is simply this, kill Flycatcher in my stead, allow me to go on my way unmolested, and I will offer you that which the spider seeks.”</p><p>Giovanni looked perplexed. “But what he seeks is your head.”</p><p>Moreto laughed again. “No, what he seeks is what I took from him, the Seal of Law. With it, you will be able to find, and safely enter, Icosiol’s tomb. You see, I am merely an explorer, and fascinating as this place is, I’ve seen enough of crypts and tombs to last many lifetimes. No, I seek greater mysteries, those which only the endless possibilities of the surface world can offer.”</p><p>“If you think for one minute that we are going to turn you loose on the world above, you are even more crazed than Flycatcher!” Drasek spat. </p><p>“Drasek,” Giovanni said urgently, “listen to what he is saying! He is offering us the key to Icosiol’s tomb! This is what we need! It’s our very reason for still being down here!”</p><p>The inquisitor squared his shoulders and looked down his nose at the warlock. “The ends never justify the means. Compromise your own soul if you will, but I will not deal with this monster any further. I will put an end to him now!” He turned and began moving across the pool once more. Giovanni looked imploringly at Hawk.</p><p>“My friend,” the civilar said, “you cannot ask this of us. Drasek is right. You risk your immortal soul.” He then turned his back on the warlock and joined Drasek. To Giovanni’s disbelief, Grim moved to stand with them. The dwarf merely shrugged as the warlock gaped at him.</p><p>“My soul’s no concern of the holy-rollers, but I’ve got no stomach for such as them,” he indicated Moreto and his companions.</p><p>Moreto sighed, shaking his head. “It doesn’t have to come to this,” he implored. “I will state again that I mean you no harm, but if you force my hand, you will leave me no choice.”</p><p>“It’s your funeral,” Drasek said coldly, “again.”</p><p></p><p>At a gesture from Moreto, the mohrgs surged into motion, closing the distance between themselves and the party in several quick strides. The first rushed at Drasek, and the second at Hawk, their lolling, repulsive tongues lashing out at the warriors. For the briefest of moments, the civilar and the inquisitor both felt their limbs seize and go rigid, but the sensation quickly passed. At that moment, a roaring bolt of lightning arced from Moreto’s hand, striking Grim. The electricity crackled around the dwarf, but the effects of Grubber’s protective spell still lingered, and Grim merely smiled. Moreto darted quickly towards the back of the cave.</p><p></p><p>Hawk raised his sword high above his head, then brought it down in a curving slash, opening the protruding entrails of the mohrg in front of him with a blinding flash of holy energy. The mohrg staggered, and Grim drove his axe into its bony sternum. Drasek raised his holy symbol between him and his own opponent, and began shouting, “In Kelemvor’s name you stand accused! You are guilty of murder most foul! You first raped, then slew your own sister, while your parents slept in the next room! This after you committed a slew of other assaults on the women of your town! When your parents awoke and confronted you, you murdered them with your bare hands! You were put to the torch for your crimes, but the depths of your depravity bought you this lingering half-life! Now, you will answer for your sins!” The mohrg quailed before the litany of its past deeds, and a blast of golden light surged from the upraised scales of Kelemvor, flaying the flesh from the creature’s bones. </p><p></p><p>At that moment, Faust darted from behind Grubber and flew directly towards Moreto. The ghoul reached for the sword slung over his shoulder, but the dragonet came to a halt several feet away, and then turned his back on the ghoul, facing his own team mates. </p><p>“I told you all before,” the psion shouted, “I care only about seeing that the Age of Worms never comes to pass! If this creature can assist us in that endeavor, then he you threaten him at your own peril!”</p><p>The rest of the team stared in stunned silence for a moment. It was Drasek who spoke first, “Then you have made your position clear. So be it.” He raised his hammer as Grubber hurled a spray of sparkling diamonds at the mohrgs. Simultaneously, Hawk, a hard, closed look in his eyes, struck at the mohrg before him again, separating its skull-like head from its body.</p><p></p><p>“Thank you my friend,” Moreto said quietly from behind Faust. “I promise I will not kill your friends, unless no other choice is left me.” He then uttered several arcane words, and a wave of null-magic swept over Grim, Hawk, and Drasek, stripping away several of their magical wards, including Hawk’s and Drasek’s ability to fly, and Grim’s energy resistance.</p><p></p><p>Grim and Drasek never hesitated. They continued their assault of the cowed mohrg cringing before the inquisitor. Shay added his support, shooting a final arrow through the mohrg’s skull.</p><p></p><p>“What is your choice?” Faust said to Moreto. “Stand or flee?”</p><p>“Take me from this place,” the ghoul said quickly, “and the Seal is yours!”</p><p>The psion landed on Moreto’s shoulder, and in an eye-blink, they were gone.</p><p></p><p>One heartbeat later, Moreto and Faust appeared in the narrow corridor overlooking the beginning of the falls. </p><p>“I am in your debt,” Moreto said.</p><p>“Yes, you are,” Faust agreed, “and now it’s time to pay that debt. The Seal please.” </p><p>Moreto smiled, then drew from his cloak a disc of crystal about a foot in diameter, carved from a single large quartz and polished to a glossy finish. One side was engraved with three runes. </p><p>“You must speak these runes before you touch it,” Moreto instructed. “They are Skyfire, Calim, and Icosiol. If you do not, then they wrath of the Wind Dukes will descend upon you.”</p><p>Faust nodded, and quickly spoke the words before taking the Seal. </p><p>“What will you do now?” he asked Moreto.</p><p>“Now I would ask one final favor of you,” the ghoul said. “Show me the way out of this tomb. I wish to see the surface.”</p><p>“What is it exactly that you are looking for?” Faust asked.</p><p>“Knowledge,” Moreto said simply. “My studies have revealed to me rumor of an ancient dragon lord known as Dragotha. He died centuries ago, but it is said that he held the secrets to incalculable storehouses of ancient lore. It is this that I seek.”</p><p>Faust shrugged. The name meant nothing to him. “I’ll show you the way,” he said. “Then we are done with each other.” Gripping the ghoul’s shoulder once more, he again transported them through the Astral Plane, appearing this time before the portal to the Whispering Cairn.</p><p>“Step through,” he said, “and the follow the tunnel to the outside.” Without waiting for a reply, the psion vanished again.</p><p>Moreto looked at the portal, testing it cautiously before pushing through. As he stepped clear, he turned to inspect the magical transport more closely. A knowing, thoroughly wicked smile creased his ancient face…</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="gfunk, post: 2813651, member: 1813"] A HOUSE DIVIDED “Can you believe they actually fell for it?” Shay asked for at least the tenth time in the past ten minutes. “Our story was perfectly plausible,” Giovanni replied, again for at least the tenth time. “You and I stay behind to make sure there are no other ‘visitors’ to this supposedly ‘forgotten’ cairn. After all, we’ve had two in as many days. Fortunately for us, they came to help, but we all know that not everyone in Daggerford has our best interests at heart, heroes or not. So what if we decide to cut our watch a little short? Who’s to be the wiser? By the time we finish our ‘business,’ we should be right on schedule to rendezvous with them.” “Yeah, but that might be a problem,” Shay said. “They didn’t say where they’d be.” “They said they would avoid the gatehouse and try the blue metal doors,” Giovanni answered. “This is our team we’re talking about, remember? Subtlety is not their strong suit. They should leave behind a trail a blind man could follow.” Shay nodded. They had been over all this before, but he was getting antsy to be on their way. “Do you think it’s safe to go now?” Giovanni was reminded of a small child on a long trip, ‘Are we there yet? Are we there yet?’ He sighed, “Yes, it should be ok. We’ve given them enough of a head start. Let’s go.” The warlock pulled a clear, crystal wand from his belt and tapped Shay once with it, then himself, rendering them both invisible. The pair then made their way back to the portal and crossed over, Giovanni leading. Cautiously, and careful to avoid any of the traps they’d previously located, they back-tracked to the silent gallery and the courtesan’s tomb beyond. This had been their plan all along, to remove the valuables there and determine if they would be of any immediate use to the group, or if they would be of monetary worth later. Grim had been right, they both agreed, like it or not, they were trying to save the world, and sometimes the ends justified the means, despite what a certain pair of do-gooders might believe. Working quickly, they removed the contents from each of the six boxes, retrieving the thin, gold wand they had discovered previously, the clay tablets bearing the love poems, a set of silk gowns, which crumbled to dust when they touched them, leaving behind the pearls and turquoise embroidered into them, and finally, a matching platinum necklace, ring and earrings. When they’d finished, they picked up the trail of their comrades and started down the long passage which led to the temple chamber. They had gone no more than half the length of the hall, when Havok heard Shay draw a sharp breath beside him. He turned, the enhanced vision that was his birthright allowing him to see the invisible form of the rogue, and saw that Shay had his bow out and an arrow knocked. Before the warlock could stop him, the rogue had fired, instantly ending his concealing invisibility. Havok jerked his head around to see just what Shay was shooting at, and his eyes went wide in shock. It was the shadow spider. It was crouched not sixty feet from them, blocking the entrance to the temple. “Shay, you fool!” he hissed. “We could have snuck past it!” “No, it heard us,” Shay said, shaking his head in panic. “I know it did! What do we do?” Before Havok could answer, he saw familiar shadows engulf the spider, and to his horror, deposit it directly in front of them! “Hold on!” Havok yelled as he saw Shay start to backpedal away. The warlock seized the rogue by the hand and whisked them both through the astral plane to the spot he had envisioned in his mind’s eye back on the Prime…the small chamber where the League had earlier fought the dread wraiths. “That was close,” Havok gasped. “You’re telling me,” Shay stammered, his eyes still showing mostly white. “What now? That thing’s still out there.” “Do you still have a Fly potion?” Havok asked. When Shay nodded, he continued, “Good. When we leave this room, you need to make directly for the ceiling of the temple. We need to get above the spider. Then we can rain hell down upon it and it won’t be able to touch us.” “Good plan,” Shay nodded enthusiastically, but no sooner had the words left his mouth, than shadows boiled in the corners of the room and the massive bulk of the arachnid materialized again, nearly filling the entire chamber. “Havok!” Shay screamed, the spider’s mandibles less than a foot from his face. Once more Giovanni grabbed the rogue’s hand and dimension-walked back into the temple. “Now Shay!” he cried. Shay scrabbled in his belt pouch and drew out a potion flask. Bobbling it in his trembling hands, he finally managed to uncork it and gulp it down. He then leaped into the air, positioning himself in the exact center of the room at ceiling height. Havok remained invisible, and he moved to a dark corner, waiting for the spider to show itself. Moment’s later it did, appearing on the ceiling not five feet from Shay. Reflexively, the rogue somersaulted backwards, knocking another arrow as he went and firing. The arrow bounced harmlessly off the spider’s carapace, and then the behemoth was scuttling towards him. It’s snapping fore claws lashed out at Shay, tearing into his flesh and then seizing him, shaking him like a rag-doll. In moments, he lost consciousness, dangling limply in the spider’s grasp. Havok watched, horror-struck at the lightning fast manner in which the creature had dispatched Shay. The warlock knew what would come next: the spider would now travel to the Plane of Shadow, taking Shay to its larder to kill at its leisure. Havok concentrated, focusing his power, waiting for just the right moment. Then, just as the shadows began to gather, he unleashed his fury, a green spike of energy lancing out and blasting the arachnid, nearly dislodging it from its perch on the ceiling. The jolt was enough to cause the spider to lose focus, failing in its attempt to enter the Shadow Plane. However, it quickly recovered its composure, and called the shadows to it once more. Again, Havok struck, refusing to allow the monster to escape to its lair. Great gouts of blood and ichor now spurted from the horrific wounds in the spider’s carapace. Then, slowly, the spider held Shay out in front of it with one claw, clasping a second one around the rogue’s neck, but not applying pressure. The threat was implicit. “Cease your attack, human,” the spider hissed. “Release him, or die where you hang!” Havok cried back, now fully visible in the wake of his assault. “If you continue your onslaught, I will kill him now,” the spider responded. “You may slay me, but your friend will die in the bargain. Perhaps we can come to an…understanding.” “What are babbling about fiend?” Havok shouted. “You have attacked us repeatedly, without provocation. Now you speak of parley?” “I am called Flycatcher,” the spider said calmly, “and it is you who entered my lair, not I yours. You and your friends are the second such group of invaders I have encountered in recent days. That is the nature of the bargain I now offer.” “You mean the wizard?” Havok asked. “Ondabar?” “I know of no wizard, human,” Flycatcher replied. “No, it is the Marquis of the River that I refer to. He who has tormented me and despoiled my home. Here is my offer: bring me the head of the Marquis, and I shall return your friend to you…relatively unharmed.” Havok laughed. “You expect me to trust you to keep him safe while I play assassin for you? I won’t leave here without him.” “Hardly an assassin,” Flycatcher said. “The Marquis is a creature of evil…one of undeath. His departure from this world would be a boon. As for your friend, am I to simply return him to you and trust you will hold up your end of the agreement?” “Then we are at an impasse,” Havok shrugged. “What do you suggest?” “Offer me something of equal value that I may hold in trust until you fulfill our arrangement, and I will give him to you now.” Havok pondered his dilemma. Flycatcher left him with little choice. No doubt he could slay the spider, but Shay’s life would surely be forfeit. But what did he have to offer that would be worth Shay’s life? Suddenly, it came to him. “I do have one thing,” he said, reaching inside his cloak and drawing forth the Talisman of the Sphere. “It is a minor artifact, capable of controlling an even more powerful one. If you have dwelt here in the tombs of the Wind Dukes, surely you have heard of such?” Flycatcher’s many eyes gleamed as he focused on the wire loop. “Indeed I have,” he whispered. “I agree to your terms. Lay the Talisman on the floor.” Havok walked slowly to the center of the chamber and complied. Cautiously, Flycatcher crawled down the wall and placed Shay’s body on the ground, snatching up the Talisman simultaneously. “You will find the Marquis in a chamber far below this tomb. Follow the River of Blood. Bring me his head!” Abruptly, shadows whirled around the spider, and in an instant, he was gone. Shay blinked in confusion as Giovanni healed the last of his wounds with the curative wand he kept in his belt for just such emergencies. “What happened?” the rogue mumbled. “You almost got yourself killed…again!” the warlock snapped. “Sometimes I don’t know if you’re the most craven coward I’ve ever met, or the bravest fool! Either way, I’m not going to let you take me with you on your death quest. Now come on, we’ve got to find the others.” He turned on his heel and started towards the blue metal doors. Bewildered, Shay climbed to his feet and followed. They found the room containing the golden Wind Duke statue as undisturbed as when the League had passed through well over an hour before. Giovanni only gave the sculpture a passing glance as he headed for the far door. “Check this,” he ordered, and Shay, a hurt look on his face, hurried to comply. “All clear,” the rogue said quietly, and Giovanni pushed open the portal. Beyond, he beheld the same tableau Grim had stumbled upon earlier: Ondabar, encased in the crackling sphere of electricity, injured, but not clearly dead nor alive. The only exit from the chamber seemed to be blocked by a large, iron door. “Surely they must have seen this,” the warlock said, musing aloud to himself. “Why would they just leave him?” Obviously there was some danger here that he could not see. His companions must have tried to free the wizard and fallen prey to whatever trap was laid for them, then been forced to flee. He pondered the situation a moment longer, then reached a decision. “I’m going to try and dispel that field from here,” he said over his shoulder to Shay. “This may take awhile.” For a time, Shay watched his friend as he hurled blast after blast of magic into the far chamber, apparently to no visible effect. Soon, the rogue’s attention wandered, fixing upon the only other thing in the room…the statue. Looking at Giovanni to make sure he wasn’t looking, Shay nonchalantly wandered over to the sculpture. It was an exquisite work or art, solid gold, unless he missed his guess. Briefly, he contemplated simply tipping the entire thing over into his magical sack. It was capable of holding fifteen-hundred pounds, but then he realized that the thing must way twice that much. Then, he noticed its eyes…sapphires the size of his fist, each of them. With one last glance at Giovanni, he pulled one of his daggers and set to work. “Got it!” Giovanni cried as the shimmering energy field flickered and died, dropping Ondabar unceremoniously to the floor. “Me too!” Shay shouted, and the warlock turned. The rogue held up two huge gems, smiling from ear to ear. Suddenly, from the walls on three sides, three of the carved warrior reliefs stepped physically into the room, holding great marble swords in their huge hands. “Not again,” Havok moaned, rolling his eyes. “Run!” he shouted. Heeding his own advice, he darted into the chamber where Ondabar lay, seizing the unconscious wizard by the wrist. Shay was right on his heels, narrowly avoiding being decapitated by the carvings as he rolled between them. Havok held out his other hand, and Shay grabbed it. The warlock focused on the iron door across the chamber, mentally gauging the distance. Then, in the blink of an eye, he stepped between dimensions again, reappearing with his two passengers just on the other side…overlooking a forty-foot deep pit! He could see the bottom of the shaft, and the tunnel leading east from it. To the northeast was an iron wall, fused to the stone. “Hang on,” he said to Shay, and then he quickly transported them to the bottom of the pit. Now he could clearly see the opening at the far end of the tunnel, and he could hear the roar of the falls beyond. He and Shay carried Ondabar between them, and made their way to the far end of the passage. Just as they were gazing out over the chasm and the churning falls, Grim, Drasek and Hawk appeared out of thin air on the far side. “So you gave the Talisman to the spider??” Hawk asked, becoming more and more incredulous as Giovanni’s story unfolded. “Yes, I told you I didn’t have any other choice!” the young warlock said defensively. “And so now you have to go and assassinate some marquis that you’ve never met?” Hawk pressed. “An UNDEAD marquis!” Giovanni said in exasperation. Hawk shook his head. “I knew it was a mistake leaving you two alone back there.” “A mistake?” Giovanni shouted, “How can you say that? Was it not we who found the way to free Ondabar where the rest of you failed?” The civilar glanced over to where Grubber was tending the last of the wizard’s wounds. “I suppose,” Hawk agreed reluctantly. “But this means that instead of leaving now that we have what we came for, instead we have to go even deeper into this death trap.” “Leaving?? Why on earth would you do that?” Ondabar was now standing over the pair, his eyes wide in disbelief. “What do you mean?” asked Hawk. “We came here to rescue you. You’re safe now. We can go.” The wizard shook his head, “No, no. Don’t you see? Do you even know where we are?” “Somewhere below the Whispering Cairn,” Hawk answered. Ondabar rolled his eyes, “Ah, if only Vladius were here. He would understand. But alas, that boy always was the impetuous one. Never interested in the defensive magic, no. With him it was always, ‘When am I going to learn Fireball? When am I going to learn Fireball?’ I warned him, ‘Vladius,’ I said, ‘remember the old saying…he who lives by the Fireball, dies by the Fireball.’ Anyway, where was I? Ah yes, the tomb! You are only half right. We WERE in the Whispering Cairn, but the magic of the portal has taken us hundreds of miles from there. This is the tomb of Icosiol. You’ve heard of him?” Hawk shook his head. “Icosiol,” Ondabar explained, “was one of the greatest generals of the Wind Duke army, one of the seven so-called Wandering Dukes, champions of Law who forged a powerful artifact called the Scepter of Calim, and used it to end the war against the armies of Memnonnar. That defeat shattered the scepter, transforming it into what is known today as the Shattered Scepter of Calim. That is why I came here! The Wind Dukes had a habit of burying their weapons with their dead in the months after their victory. Not to honor the dead as much as to store these weapons in a safe place, so that should the Memnonnar rise again, the weapons would be available. I believe that something powerful indeed is hidden somewhere in this tomb, and if what you’ve told me is true about your adventures in Waterdeep, and Dagsumn’s unfortunate demise, I believe that this weapon can help us in the dark times to come.” “Are you saying that a fragment of the Shattered Scepter might be here?” Giovanni asked, stunned at the prospect. Ondabar shrugged. “If it is, then you must find it. It could be invaluable to you in the coming struggle.” “Us?” the warlock asked. “What about you? Aren’t you coming with us?” Ondabar shook his head. “The news that you have brought to me of the destruction of my home grieves me greatly. I must return there to see if any of my research may be salvaged. Also, in light of what Dagsumn stated in his letter, it may also be time to try and contact my one-time master, Malchor Harpell.” Giovanni blinked. He had of course heard of the arch-mage, a powerful member of a powerful family of wizards who all-but-ruled the small town of Longsaddle. “So,” Ondabar concluded. “I of course offer you thanks for my life, and I advise you caution in the continuation of your exploration. I will be most intrigued at your findings. Goodbye my youthful heroes. You have made an old man feel young again.” With that, he uttered two short spells, allowing him to fly, and then rendering him invisible, and was gone. Grubber scowled as all of his companions flitted through the air above him, each under the effects of one sort of Fly spell or another. “What about me?” he grumbled. “You know of my Oath.” Grumbar, Lord of the Earth frowned on any mode of travel which caused one’s feet to leave the life-giving soil or unchanging rock. Therefore, flying, and even travel by boat, was forbidden among his clergy except under the most dire of circumstances. “Well,” Storm laughed, “you don’t think Grumbar would consider falling the same as flying, do you?” “Very funny,” Grubber said, gazing over the lip of the seemingly bottomless pit into which the river of blood flowed, and down which his companions seemed intent on going. “I’m serious!” the drow said. “Catch!” She tossed a small silver ring at him. He caught it deftly, and looked at it skeptically, certain it wouldn’t fit past the first knuckle. However, before his eyes, it seemed to expand, until it slipped easily on his finger. “Now what?” he asked dubiously. “Now…you jump!” Storm giggled. “You have faith, don’t you? Surely Grumbar wouldn’t let you die by smashing into the ground?” Grubber’s scowl deepened. Mustering his resolve, he stepped off the edge of the pit…and began floating gently down, like a feather on a breeze. The party followed the falling river down its tortuous path into the bowels of the earth. After sixty feet or so, the shaft narrowed from some to thirty feet to no more than twenty. Here the spray of the falls filled the air with a fine mist. Beyond the narrows, the shaft widened again and straightened for about a hundred feet. It was at the bottom of this second portion that Grubber beheld his greatest fear. The river was emptying into a lake! Hawk and Grim had flown down ahead of the rest of the group, looking for just such a hazard. They saw the lake as well, and were just turning to rejoin the team, when Grim noticed a side tunnel entering the main shaft that they had overlooked on the way down. Floating in the mouth of this tunnel were two figures dressed head-to-toe in ceramic armor. Each one had a pair of longswords strapped across its back, and held a loaded crossbow in its hands. As Grim opened his mouth to shout a warning to Hawk, the first figure fired, its bolt burying itself in the civilar’s shoulder. Havok saw the two flying warriors as well, some thirty feet below him. As he watched, Grim closed on their position, but the burly warrior was slowed in his movement by his own bulk. The warlock had recently learned of a new aspect to his innate abilities, and he felt that there was no better time than the present to try it. A sickly green burst of energy surged from his hand, striking the first armored figure and leaving it in a cloud of noxious vapor, before arcing towards the second. This one, however, moved with an uncanny speed, slipping beneath the ray with a grace belied by its encumbered form. Meanwhile, Hawk saw a greater danger. Though Grubber was falling at a relatively slow speed that would cause him no harm upon impact, when his dense body hit the lake it would sink like a proverbial rock. The civilar soared upwards, pulling a flask from his belt which contained an elixir capable of conveying the ability to breath water upon its imbiber, and holding it out towards the falling goliath. “Take it!” he shouted as Grubber drew near. As the priest fell past him, he reached out with one meaty hand and seized the flask, upending it as he plummeted. Above him, Drasek spoke the words to a powerful prayer, causing his body to enlarge as he was filled with the righteous might of Torm. The inquisitor then dove towards the surface of the lake, prepared to retrieve the goliath should the blood-red liquid of the lake prove more harmful than mere water. Just as Grim reached the two flying warriors, both of them cork-screwed around and beneath him, one of them firing a parting shot at Havok, but managing to only hit one of the illusory images the warlock had just finished conjuring about himself. Grim recognized the beings as they passed. They were wind warriors, the elementally animated suits of armor he and his original team mates had first met in the Wind Duke Zosiel’s tomb inside the Whispering Cairn. As he watched, the pair zipped past him to take up a position at the lip of the lake, where its waters overflowed and continued to fall into the depths of the pit. Havok unleashed a second chained noxious blast at the retreating wind warriors, striking both this time, but failing to achieve his desired effect of nauseating them to the point of defenselessness. Above him, Shay sipped from a potion flask, and instantly turned invisible, though Havok could still see him as he darted down to a position below the wind warriors. Hawk and Grim, meanwhile, both closed on the elementals from above. Drasek joined them, managing to strike one of the elementals a glancing blow before both of them, turned and dove into the black depths of the chasm, rapidly disappearing from view. It was at that moment that Grubber struck the surface of the lake…and sank straight to the bottom, which fortunately was only twenty-five feet. Once there, able to breathe comfortably, he began slowly walking up the gradual incline towards the surface. “That’s not the last we’ve seen of them, I’ll wager,” Drasek said as he joined Hawk and the others. The civilar nodded. It seemed that the Wind Dukes meant only for those who were truly determined and driven to discover their secrets. Once Grubber had extricated himself from the lake, he stepped off into the void once more, and the descent into the depths continued. Some hundred or more feet below the lake, the falls again accumulated, but this time only in a shallow basin before flowing onward, down a series of projections, creating even more mists in their cascade. It was here that the wind warriors made their final stand. This time the pair was widely separated. They were apparently capable of learning from their mistakes, and they did not mean to be caught by Havok’s chain again. Before any of the team could do more than note their position, Faust darted ahead, flitting right up to the nearest warrior, and then darting back and forth in front of it, as if daring it to strike. “What does he think he’s doing?” Drasek hissed. “Drawing their fire,” Hawk answered, impressed by the temerity of the psion. “Let’s take advantage of the opportunity.” The wind warrior never hesitated. Dropping its crossbow, it drew both swords in a single blurred action, striking like lightning at the dragonet. Both blows connected solidly, but to the amazement of his team mates, Faust only seemed grazed by the blows. “Is that the best you can do?” he taunted his silent foe Grim charged towards the second wind warrior as it drew a bead on Faust with its crossbow. However, as the dwarf closed, the elemental tossed its crossbow casually aside and drew its own blades, clanging them together in front of it. As it did so, a wave of pure sound struck Grim in the chest, momentarily stalling his charge. The wind warrior flowed forward, swords raised for a devastating strike, but at that moment, a spear-like bolt from Havok drove the creature back several feet. This was followed by an arrow from the darkness, fired by the now visible Shay. The shaft pierced the slit in the elemental’s helm and stuck there, quivering. The wind warrior staggered, stumbling through the air towards Grim, and landing a glancing blow against his stony hide. As it struck, the warrior began to crumble before Grim’s eyes, becoming dust in a matter of seconds, from its armor to its blades. Hawk rushed to aid Faust, flying past the dragon/psion and plunging his sword into the mailed chest of the wind warrior. As he struck, he unleashed an burst of electricity through the sword, which flashed from every chink in the elemental’s armor. Withdrawing the blade, he spun, catching the warrior again with a back-handed chop. As the melee continued, Grubber fell helplessly past all the combatants. He bumped against one of the sloping walls of the shaft, and scrabbled to gain a hand-hold. The water-slicked surface, however, allowed no purchase, and the goliath tumbled down the slope and disappeared into the darkness of the pit. The remaining wind warrior clashed its own swords together, sending a sonic blast slamming into Hawk and Faust. As the pair reeled, a second blast from Havok hammered the elemental. Incredibly, the creature clutched at its midsection, and doubled over, silently retching. Havok had no idea how a creature with no discernable digestive tract could become nauseated, but he did not question his good fortune. As the wind warrior continued to heave, three arrows from Shay pierced its breast plate, and it too crumbled to dust. The team began to regroup, preparing to follow Grubber’s plunge, but at that moment, four more wind warriors ascended from the pit, blocking their path. As one, Grim, Hawk and Drasek closed the distance to the elementals, bottle-necking them in the shaft so that they would have no opportunity to spread out and attack from all sides. Grim struck at the nearest warrior, his axe gouging deeply into its archaic armor. While it was true that the three heroes had indeed stopped the forward progress of the warriors, it was equally true the elementals had them like-wise trapped. Moving in unison, the four warriors slammed their swords together, sending wave after wave of sonic force to buffet Grim, Hawk and Drasek. Grubber’s fall into darkness seemed timeless, but he could still hear the echoes of battle above him. Soon, however, he began to see a dim glow of light from below him. The red waterfall crashed into a pool of jagged rocks in a large cave at the bottom of the shaft. An outlet of slow-moving water gurgled away to the south. The cavern beyond was large and wet, longer along its north-south axis, and roughly fifty feet across east to west. A pale, greenish-yellow light reflected off the river and walls downstream. The same light flickered and refracted off tiny crystals in the roof above, almost giving the cave the feel of being open to the night sky. As Grubber descended, he could see three figures standing by the side of the pool, staring up at him. The mid-air battle raged on. The front-line fighters held their position, despite being repeatedly battered by the wind warriors’ sonic onslaught. Shay lent missile support, placing his shots with uncanny accuracy. Artillery was provided by Havok, Storm and Faust, in the form of eldritch blasts, lightning bolts, and elemental energy currents. No League member wavered, but one-by-one the wind warriors fell, succumbing to the strength of blows and firepower. Finally, the last one disintegrated, and without hesitating to savor their victory, the League sped onward, knowing they had to find Grubber before it was too late. As Grubber came to a gentle landing in the pool, he noticed that the trio have moved farther away as he had come closer. Even now, one of them was shielding his eyes from the blinding light of the goliath’s Celestial Brilliance. In that light, however, Grubber saw that two of the three weren’t even remotely human. In fact, they were mohrgs! The third creature wore fine clothes, though they were the genteel, rotted garments of a generation ago. His skin was sallow, almost parchment-like in texture, and his taloned fingers, black, split tongue and cruel hooked teeth betrayed his distinct lack of humanity. He held a lantern in one hand, and its eerie green glow was the only other source of illumination in the cavern. “A bit hard on the eyes, wouldn’t you say my good man?” the creature said in cultured tones. “Do you mind covering it up so that we can have a good look at you?” Grubber was confused. Politics and diplomacy were not his strong suit. At least two of the beings were clearly undead, yet the third seemed intelligent, and they did not appear to offer any immediate threat. Still, all of his senses screamed for him to be on his guard for treachery, and yet, he was alone. Perhaps he could stall them until his team mates arrived. “I will put it away,” he replied, tossing his cloak over his holy symbol, which was the source of the heavenly light. “I warn you though,” he continued. “Stay where you are. Come no closer.” The creature, and Grubber now thought there was something familiar about him, spread his empty hands. “You must pardon the appearance of my companions,” he said. “They are but thralls and will not act without my leave. By the sounds I heard earlier, I assume you’re not alone.” He looked up towards the high ceiling. “It’s quiet now. I trust your friends are safe.” A small smile lifted the corners of his mouth. At that moment, a small dragonet flitted into the chamber, making lazy circles in the air as it descended to hover above Grubber’s shoulder. The goliath breathed a sigh of relief as the rest of the League appeared, flying quickly down to join him in the pool. “Ah, here they are now!” the creature said, clapping his hands. “What is the meaning of this?” Drasek shouted, his eyes fixing on the mohrgs, an abomination in the eyes of Kelemvor. He hefted his maul as he took a step forward, Hawk right beside him, raising his sword defensively. “No so fast gentlemen,” the creature said, taking a step back. “I mean you no harm, but if threatened, I shall be forced to defend myself.” “Who…or what…are you?” Giovanni asked, stepping in front of the two crusaders. “I can at least tell you what he is,” Faust said. “He is a true ghoul. They are a race of evolved undead. There is rumored to be an entire kingdom of them somewhere in the Underdark. “What a perceptive familiar you have,” the ghoul said smiling. “I am, in fact, Moreto, the Marquis of Ravenstone.” He sketched a formal bow. “And whom do I have the pleasure of addressing?” “Your executioners!” growled Drasek. Giovanni shot him a warning look. “My friend is a bit…overzealous,” the warlock said, turning back to Moreto. “You said you are a marquis. Are you perhaps the Marquis of the River?” Moreto looked confused. “I’ve never carried such a title. Where did you hear it?” “Have you ever heard of a creature called Flycatcher,” Faust interjected, and he too received a withering glare from Giovanni. “Ah, it becomes clear now,” Moreto laughed. “Did that old, crazed arachnid send you? Did he instruct you to kill me?” “How do you know this?” Giovanni demanded. “Because he is as predictable as he is evil,” Moreto said. “Did you know that his is the epitome of wickedness?” he addressed Drasek and Hawk. “I made no such bargain,” Drasek sneered. “One form of evil is much like another. I’ll see you and the spider destroyed before the day is done!” “And what of you?” Moreto asked, turning again to Giovanni. “Was it you that Flycatcher bargained with? They you must be a reasonable man. Allow me to make you a counter offer.” “Why are we listening to this filth?” Drasek shouted. “His very existence is abhorrent!” “I did not choose to be what I am,” Moreto said reasonably. “I was born who I am. So judge me if you must, but at least hear me out first.” “Drasek, please,” Giovanni implored. “Stay your hand a moment more.” The inquisitor scowled, but did not advance any further. “What is your offer?” Giovanni then asked the ghoul. “I knew we could be civilized,” Moreto smiled. “As I said, Flycatcher is evil, and treacherous. No doubt he somehow blackmailed you into this agreement. My offer is simply this, kill Flycatcher in my stead, allow me to go on my way unmolested, and I will offer you that which the spider seeks.” Giovanni looked perplexed. “But what he seeks is your head.” Moreto laughed again. “No, what he seeks is what I took from him, the Seal of Law. With it, you will be able to find, and safely enter, Icosiol’s tomb. You see, I am merely an explorer, and fascinating as this place is, I’ve seen enough of crypts and tombs to last many lifetimes. No, I seek greater mysteries, those which only the endless possibilities of the surface world can offer.” “If you think for one minute that we are going to turn you loose on the world above, you are even more crazed than Flycatcher!” Drasek spat. “Drasek,” Giovanni said urgently, “listen to what he is saying! He is offering us the key to Icosiol’s tomb! This is what we need! It’s our very reason for still being down here!” The inquisitor squared his shoulders and looked down his nose at the warlock. “The ends never justify the means. Compromise your own soul if you will, but I will not deal with this monster any further. I will put an end to him now!” He turned and began moving across the pool once more. Giovanni looked imploringly at Hawk. “My friend,” the civilar said, “you cannot ask this of us. Drasek is right. You risk your immortal soul.” He then turned his back on the warlock and joined Drasek. To Giovanni’s disbelief, Grim moved to stand with them. The dwarf merely shrugged as the warlock gaped at him. “My soul’s no concern of the holy-rollers, but I’ve got no stomach for such as them,” he indicated Moreto and his companions. Moreto sighed, shaking his head. “It doesn’t have to come to this,” he implored. “I will state again that I mean you no harm, but if you force my hand, you will leave me no choice.” “It’s your funeral,” Drasek said coldly, “again.” At a gesture from Moreto, the mohrgs surged into motion, closing the distance between themselves and the party in several quick strides. The first rushed at Drasek, and the second at Hawk, their lolling, repulsive tongues lashing out at the warriors. For the briefest of moments, the civilar and the inquisitor both felt their limbs seize and go rigid, but the sensation quickly passed. At that moment, a roaring bolt of lightning arced from Moreto’s hand, striking Grim. The electricity crackled around the dwarf, but the effects of Grubber’s protective spell still lingered, and Grim merely smiled. Moreto darted quickly towards the back of the cave. Hawk raised his sword high above his head, then brought it down in a curving slash, opening the protruding entrails of the mohrg in front of him with a blinding flash of holy energy. The mohrg staggered, and Grim drove his axe into its bony sternum. Drasek raised his holy symbol between him and his own opponent, and began shouting, “In Kelemvor’s name you stand accused! You are guilty of murder most foul! You first raped, then slew your own sister, while your parents slept in the next room! This after you committed a slew of other assaults on the women of your town! When your parents awoke and confronted you, you murdered them with your bare hands! You were put to the torch for your crimes, but the depths of your depravity bought you this lingering half-life! Now, you will answer for your sins!” The mohrg quailed before the litany of its past deeds, and a blast of golden light surged from the upraised scales of Kelemvor, flaying the flesh from the creature’s bones. At that moment, Faust darted from behind Grubber and flew directly towards Moreto. The ghoul reached for the sword slung over his shoulder, but the dragonet came to a halt several feet away, and then turned his back on the ghoul, facing his own team mates. “I told you all before,” the psion shouted, “I care only about seeing that the Age of Worms never comes to pass! If this creature can assist us in that endeavor, then he you threaten him at your own peril!” The rest of the team stared in stunned silence for a moment. It was Drasek who spoke first, “Then you have made your position clear. So be it.” He raised his hammer as Grubber hurled a spray of sparkling diamonds at the mohrgs. Simultaneously, Hawk, a hard, closed look in his eyes, struck at the mohrg before him again, separating its skull-like head from its body. “Thank you my friend,” Moreto said quietly from behind Faust. “I promise I will not kill your friends, unless no other choice is left me.” He then uttered several arcane words, and a wave of null-magic swept over Grim, Hawk, and Drasek, stripping away several of their magical wards, including Hawk’s and Drasek’s ability to fly, and Grim’s energy resistance. Grim and Drasek never hesitated. They continued their assault of the cowed mohrg cringing before the inquisitor. Shay added his support, shooting a final arrow through the mohrg’s skull. “What is your choice?” Faust said to Moreto. “Stand or flee?” “Take me from this place,” the ghoul said quickly, “and the Seal is yours!” The psion landed on Moreto’s shoulder, and in an eye-blink, they were gone. One heartbeat later, Moreto and Faust appeared in the narrow corridor overlooking the beginning of the falls. “I am in your debt,” Moreto said. “Yes, you are,” Faust agreed, “and now it’s time to pay that debt. The Seal please.” Moreto smiled, then drew from his cloak a disc of crystal about a foot in diameter, carved from a single large quartz and polished to a glossy finish. One side was engraved with three runes. “You must speak these runes before you touch it,” Moreto instructed. “They are Skyfire, Calim, and Icosiol. If you do not, then they wrath of the Wind Dukes will descend upon you.” Faust nodded, and quickly spoke the words before taking the Seal. “What will you do now?” he asked Moreto. “Now I would ask one final favor of you,” the ghoul said. “Show me the way out of this tomb. I wish to see the surface.” “What is it exactly that you are looking for?” Faust asked. “Knowledge,” Moreto said simply. “My studies have revealed to me rumor of an ancient dragon lord known as Dragotha. He died centuries ago, but it is said that he held the secrets to incalculable storehouses of ancient lore. It is this that I seek.” Faust shrugged. The name meant nothing to him. “I’ll show you the way,” he said. “Then we are done with each other.” Gripping the ghoul’s shoulder once more, he again transported them through the Astral Plane, appearing this time before the portal to the Whispering Cairn. “Step through,” he said, “and the follow the tunnel to the outside.” Without waiting for a reply, the psion vanished again. Moreto looked at the portal, testing it cautiously before pushing through. As he stepped clear, he turned to inspect the magical transport more closely. A knowing, thoroughly wicked smile creased his ancient face… [/QUOTE]
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JollyDoc's Age of Worms (Updated 11/30, Epilogue!)
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