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JollyDoc's Age of Worms (Updated 11/30, Epilogue!)
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<blockquote data-quote="gfunk" data-source="post: 2813740" data-attributes="member: 1813"><p>I’VE GOT A GOLDEN TICKET</p><p></p><p>The following morning found the League members once more going their separate ways. In the wake of Drasek’s death, Grubber was even more determined to fulfill his promise to Furtopia. The old healer welcomed him, telling him there was much work to be done. Entering the sickhouse, the goliath was disheartened to see that those who had been healed the day before had been replaced by more of the afflicted. Grubber sighed, rolled up his sleeves and set to work.</p><p></p><p>Giovanni and his entourage crossed the lobby of the Deluxury, intending to make another trip to the merchant’s guild when the desk clerk hailed them.</p><p>“I have two messages for you, my lord,” the man said, passing the warlock one neatly rolled and tied piece of parchment, and one crudely folded sheet. Giovanni read the rolled message first:</p><p></p><p>Lord Vito,</p><p>As you requested, I am contacting you to inform you of some news that has come to my attention. It would seem that several foreign dignitaries who were invited to the Prince’s gala will not be attending. It would be a significant loss of face for the Prince should his party not be fully rounded out. It is my understanding that the extra invitations are now in the possession of Armhin Loratio, the proprietor of the Deluxury, and that he has been instructed to find people of suitable quality to give them to. I hope this will be of help to you, and that you will remember who your friends are.</p><p></p><p>Trell.</p><p></p><p>The second message was significantly less articulate:</p><p></p><p>Be at the Ogre’s Hideout at sunset. News from Malchor.</p><p></p><p>Hawk and Storm read the missives over Giovanni’s shoulder, and the civilar raised an eyebrow at the conclusion of the latter. Giovanni glanced up to see the clerk looking at him expectantly. The warlock cleared his throat.</p><p>“Is Mister Loratio in?” he asked.</p><p>“I believe he is, my Lord,” the clerk replied.</p><p>“Would you be so good as to inform him that Lord Giovanni Vito requests a brief meeting with him?” As he spoke, he slid a platinum coin surreptitiously across the counter.</p><p>“Certainly, my Lord,” the clerk said smiling, as he made the coin vanish as if by magic. He disappeared into a back room, returning a few moments later, still smiling.</p><p>“Mister Loratio awaits your pleasure.”</p><p>Giovanni instructed Hawk and Storm to wait for him, and then followed the clerk into the rear office.</p><p></p><p>Armhin Loratio was a jolly-looking fellow, but his eyes bespoke a shrewd and cunning mind beneath the façade. He did not rise as Giovanni entered, but instead motioned for the warlock to be seated, and then dismissed the clerk.</p><p>“How may I be of service, Lord Vito?” the hotelier asked without preamble.</p><p>“As you may know,” Giovanni began, “I am from Sembia, seeking to establish some business contacts here in Starmantle. I have, of course heard of the coming gala, and those who are expected to be in attendance. It would present a wonderful opportunity for me to network with those in position to facilitate my venture. I have, ah…heard that you might be the man to see if one were to be looking to procure an invitation to this fete.”</p><p>Loratio looked at him, unblinking, for a full thirty seconds before answering.</p><p>“Assuming what you have heard is true, the Prince prides himself on the quality of those he chooses to surround himself with. I would insist on personally interviewing everyone in your retinue.”</p><p>“Of course,” Giovanni replied. “I think you will find them a…colorful group. I can have them assembled by this evening.”</p><p>“Very well,” Loratio said, rising and opening the door, “then I shall look forward to our meeting tonight.”</p><p></p><p>Faust materialized within a nimbus of blue light inside the catacombs beneath the Church of Blessed Deliverance. Rhorsk did not seem surprised to see him.</p><p>“I’m glad you’ve come,” the priest said. “I have already laid your comrade to rest.” He pointed to one of the newly sealed tombs, now inscribed with the symbol of Kelemvor.</p><p>“I have news,” Rhorsk continued.</p><p>Faust nodded, “If I didn’t know better,” he said, “I would think you were a psion yourself. It’s like you read my mind.”</p><p>“It doesn’t take a mind reader to know what information you would find useful,” the priest chuckled. “It’s amazing what one can hear when one lurks in the sewers right beneath the feet of those above. Rumor has it that the remnants of the Ebon Triad in Starmantle had allied themselves with a dragon of late. However, I have also heard that same dragon was recently slain somewhere on the Sword Coast, but that its lair might be found somewhere beneath the Traitor’s Graves.”</p><p>“Traitor’s Graves?” Faust asked.</p><p>“It’s a small island in the river where the Prince disposes of dissidents.”</p><p>“I see,” Faust said. “I don’t suppose you know what color this dragon was?”</p><p>“Black,” said Rhorsk.</p><p></p><p>Later that afternoon, the team regrouped on the patio outside the Deluxury and exchanged the information that they had uncovered.</p><p>“It’s almost sunset now,” Giovanni said. “I suppose we should get over to the Ogre’s Hideout and see what Malchor sent us.”</p><p></p><p>“Not you lot again!” Frill Beskered moaned when he saw Giovanni and his friends enter the taproom. “I told you once already, I ain’t looking for trouble!”</p><p>“And we don’t intend to bring you any,” Giovanni said placatingly. “We just want to know if anyone new has checked in within the past two days.”</p><p>“Yeah, him!” Frill said jerking a thumb towards a table in the corner. The group looked in that direction, but all they could see was a table stacked with ale steins. They walked curiously over, and Giovanni cleared his throat.</p><p>“Did you leave a message at the Deluxury for Giovanni Vito?” </p><p>“Who’s askin’?” came a gruff voice from the other side of the mugs.</p><p>“I am Lord Vito.”</p><p>“Lord is it?” scoffed the disembodied voice. “Way I heard it, yer family booted ya out. Ain’t lord of nothin’ no more.”</p><p>“Whom do I have the pleasure of addressing?” Giovanni asked coolly.</p><p>“You can call me Pavel.” A meaty hand casually swept the steins to the floor, revealing a scowling dwarf seated on the other side. His frizzy black hair stood up in all directions, like a crazed corona around his head. His beard was haphazardly bound in three braids. He wore well-made, but battered armor, and two large axes were strapped to his back. </p><p>“I was sent by Harpell. He thought you lads…and lady, might need an extra hand.”</p><p>“Perhaps,” Hawk said, stepping forward, “but it might help us to know something about your credentials.”</p><p>In an eye blink, both axes were out and embedded in the stained wood of the table. </p><p>“This is all the credentials I got!” Pavel bellowed, drawing the attention of several hobgoblins nearby.</p><p>“Yes, well, we typically have a six month trial membership period,” Faust smiled.</p><p>“I don’t work fer you, ugly,” the dwarf sneered. “I’m on Harpell’s payroll. He says help ya, and the price is right, so I’m here ta help, like it or not.”</p><p>“I see,” Hawk said. “Well, as it just so happens, we were just on our way to a little rendezvous that might be right up your alley.”</p><p></p><p>A low, sodden hummock of mud and rocky soil rose only a few feet above the dark brown waters of the slowly flowing river. Here and there, tangled patches of wiry undergrowth grew, interspersed with muddy pools of water. Wooden frames in the shape of a Y protruded from the island in several places, and on some of them still hung the rotting bodies of traitors executed for heinous crimes. A startling number of crows perched on these frames or hopped along the ground, where they hunted for bugs and worms. </p><p></p><p>The League members slogged through the shallow waters of the river, which were only knee-deep at low tide, to the island, such as it was. Clouds of mosquitoes filled the air, buzzing and biting constantly. No sooner had the last member of the group set foot on the island, than the waters around it began to boil and froth. Six black-scaled dragons, roughly the size of small horses, with eyes that smoked with green vapor, crawled from the river, surrounding the party on all sides. The group tensed, readying themselves for battle, but then one of the dragons spoke in its native, hissing tongue. Only Faust was able to understand the creature.</p><p>“We have need of you,” the dragon said. “Our lair has been invaded by a tremendous creature. It exceeds us. You will slay this invader for us, and we shall reward you handsomely.”</p><p>“Um…is it the dragon Ilthane that you speak of?” Faust answered hesitantly in the wyrm’s language.</p><p>The young dragon’s eyes darted towards its siblings and back. “We do not know she of whom you speak.”</p><p>“I see,” Faust said, though he had not mentioned Ilthane’s gender. “What does this creature look like?”</p><p>“It has the shape of our kind,” the dragon hissed, “yet much larger, and it has three heads made of bone.”</p><p>Faust could not imagine what such a creature might be. “My companions do not understand you,” he said, buying time. “I must translate your words for them.” The dragon nodded, its eyes narrowing. The psion quickly summarized its offer for his comrades.</p><p>“They actually expect us to work with them?” Hawk said incredulously. “Tell them absolutely not! We have had our share of deals with devils!”</p><p>“I agree whole-heartedly,” Faust said. “Prepare yourselves while I tell them we decline their offer.”</p><p>Turning back to the dragon, Faust smiled. “My friends say they would be happy to assist you, but you must first give us a moment to prepare for the coming battle.”</p><p>The dragon eyed the élan suspiciously, and then nodded again, slowly. “Be hasty.”</p><p>Faust turned again to his friends, “They’re not taking it well. Since black dragons breathe acid, I think it would be wise to protect ourselves, don’t you Grubber?”</p><p>The goliath looked momentarily confused, and then understanding dawned on him. He spoke a prayer, conveying a minor miracle upon all of his team mates that would render them somewhat impervious to the effects of caustics.</p><p>“Good,” Faust said. “Hawk, I don’t think they’re going to take no for an answer. I suggest we strike…now!”</p><p></p><p>Havok didn’t hesitate. A sizzling blast of eldritch energy leaped from his hand to the three nearest dragons, in a noxious chain. The young dragons writhed in agony, and one began retching violently. Quicker than thought, the warlock unleashed a second blast, this one striking only one of the beasts this time, but leaving it quivering and near death.</p><p></p><p>Right on the heels of Havok’s attack, Grubber raised one fist into the air, calling on Grumbar to rain a Storm of Shards down upon all of the dragons. Havok’s first victim collapsed, while the eyes of the sickened wyrm suddenly lost their emerald glow as the creature was blinded by Grumbar’s holy power. Wailing pitifully, the wretched dragon slithered back into the river.</p><p></p><p>The four remaining dragons, two on each side of the League, simultaneously stretched their maws and breathed forth streams of hissing acid, catching the entire group in a deadly crossfire. When the steam from the fluid abated, not a mark shown on any of the heroes, Grubber’s magic having afforded them complete protection.</p><p></p><p>Lowering his shield, Hawk lunged forward, running the nearest dragon through with his family blade. A stunning jolt of energy surged through the blade, leaving the young wyrm twitching uncontrollably. </p><p></p><p>Taking a page from Havok’s book of tricks, Storm twined her hands above her head, generating a turbine of electricity there before hurling it at the two dragons nearest her. The bolt arced between the pair, killing one instantly.</p><p></p><p>Faust was feeling cocky. His companions seemed to be having no trouble dealing with the dragons, and the psion saw no point in wasting his precious mental energies. Concentrating, he morphed himself into his now-familiar stone giant form and lumbered towards one of the dragons. The dragon crouched as he approached, and when he tried to sweep the beast into a bear-hug, it fought like a cat, hissing and scratching before wriggling out of his arms.</p><p>“Having trouble, eh?” Pavel laughed, stomping on the retreating dragon’s tail and then burying one of his axes in its haunch. The creature wailed and squirmed even harder to escape.</p><p></p><p>“Seems like you’re both having some trouble,” Havok laughed, before sending another chain of stinking energy into both the dragon attempting to escape, and its helpless sibling cowering before Hawk. Now, that creature also began vomiting continuously.</p><p>“There is no honor in this,” Hawk said with a scowl as he brought his blade down upon the pitiful thing in front of him, putting an end to its suffering.</p><p></p><p>It was only a matter of time before the remaining pair of dragons fell before the combined onslaught of the League.</p><p>“I hope that was just the appetizer,” Pavel bellowed, “’cause I’m still hungry!”</p><p>“You heard what the dragons said,” Giovanni reminded him. “It would seem something else has taken up residence in Ilthane’s lair. The problem is, we just killed our only sources for finding it.”</p><p>“Not quite,” Faust replied. “Black dragons typically lair in underground or underwater caves. Since the young ones came up on land, we can assume the entrance is here on the island somewhere. I’ll just have a look around.” Morphing again, the psion assumed the form of a large, beetle-like creature…an umberhulk, and then promptly burrowed into the soggy ground.</p><p></p><p>A short time later, he reemerged and resumed his giant habitus. </p><p>“There’s a shaft leading straight down just over there,” he indicated a nondescript patch of earth in the center of the island. “There appears to be some sort of cave below it.”</p><p>“Let’s not waste time then,” Giovanni said. “Everyone join hands.” The group gathered around him, all except Faust, who in his current incarnation would have to provide his own means of transportation, being too large for the warlock to accommodate. In a flash of light, they vanished.</p><p></p><p>The earthen-walled cavern reeked of sharp, bitter chemicals strong enough to water the eyes and steal the breath. The walls were a tangled mess of roots, mud and stone. Water dripped constantly from them, gathering in puddles on the floor and collecting in a fuming pool to the east. North of the cavern entrance, four large, glass canisters once stood, now shattered with their contents washed away. To the northeast, a ledge was heaped with smashed containers, crates, and other unrecognizable ruins. To the east, a second ledge was similarly cluttered, only this time with alchemical equipment and large, ruined tables of stone and wood.</p><p></p><p>Havok scanned the room quickly, his fiend-touched eyes showing him nothing concealed by invisibility within his line of sight. Cautiously, Faust approached the pool, allowing his Touchsight to peer beneath its calm surface. Nothing lay there save more debris and a few skulls. Suddenly, the still pool began to churn violently, sliding up onto itself and quickly filling out into the form of a lumbering, draconic beast. The thing’s body was semi-translucent and gelatinous, with streamers of acid dripping from its flanks to sizzle on the ground. Some of these strands writhed and cracked like whips. Its long neck ended in a disturbing tangle of skulls, some human, some draconic, and some something in between.</p><p></p><p>Before Faust could react, the skulls screamed simultaneously, and as they did so, a great gout of yellow-green acid spewed forth, drenching the psion from head-to-toe. Though Grubber’s spell still protected him, Faust still felt a few sharp stings on his flesh, and he knew that had it not been for that protection, he might well be dead. </p><p></p><p>Havok had conserved most of his strength for this moment, and now he held nothing back, hurling back-to-back surges of his most powerful blasts. Both passed harmlessly through the creature. On the heels of this came a fiery burst from Storm, which proved equally ineffective. Both arcanists stared at each other, mouths hanging open.</p><p></p><p>“Maybe steel’ll do where magic can’t,” Pavel snarled, and he charged forward, Hawk right behind him. The dwarf reached the creature first, slashing one of his axes furiously across its long neck…and standing dumbfounded as the weapon cleaved nothing but air. Hawk took a different tact, and aimed his blow at one of the undulating skulls. His blade connected solidly, and a large crack appeared in the bone, but almost immediately it began to knit itself back together.</p><p></p><p>“Just hold it there!” Faust shouted at the warriors as he stepped back from the edge of the caustic pool. Concentrating, he manifested a writhing current of fire from the center of his brow, sending it like a whip at the monster. This too passed through the beast as if it were non-existent. The psion was beginning to believe that no magic of any sort could touch it. Another failed salvo from Havok and Storm only reaffirmed this belief. Even Hawk’s blade failed to connect a second time.</p><p></p><p>It was Grubber who stumbled upon the key. Taking a chance, and mainly trying to buy his friends some time, he chanted a prayer, creating a whirling wall of blades that cut directly through the space in which the abomination stood. To his, and everyone’s amazement, the blades actually seemed to harm the beast. It screamed in an unearthly shriek, and backed quickly out of the biting wall, placing it between itself and its attackers. Then Grubber understood. The blades were made of pure force, an energy which could harm even intangible beings such as ghosts and wraiths. Perhaps this creature was similar in nature. “Force!” he cried to his spell-casting comrades. “Use force effects!”</p><p></p><p>Unfortunately, Faust had no such options available to him, but he did understand the nature of incorporeality, and knew that such creatures tended to shift rapidly between their solid and intangible forms. He could still get lucky and strike the creature with his energy current when it was momentarily solid. Focusing his will, he lashed out again, and this time the flaming whip actually burned the beast, causing it to wail louder. At that moment, however, it breathed its searing breath again, catching Pavel and Hawk, as well as the psion. Though Grubber’s spell again deflected the bulk of the effect from Faust, Pavel and Hawk did not possess the toughened flesh of a stone giant, and Faust could see their skin blister and crisp under the assault. Yet the warriors did not falter. Striking through the intervening wall of blades, Pavel managed to connect twice with his twin blades, though Hawk could not duplicate his earlier effort.</p><p></p><p>Havok and Storm both shrugged at Grubber, unable to generate the type of magic that was required. The goliath knew that it was solely up to him. As the creature breathed a third time upon the warriors and Faust, Grubber called upon Grumbar one final time, calling down a hammer-blow of righteous power. The concussive force struck the horror at the base of its neck, severing it from its amorphous body. In an instant, the beast’s entire form collapsed back into the pool.</p><p></p><p>A thorough search of Ilthane’s lair turned up thousands of corroded and useless coins and pieces of jewelry. Storm identified most of the smashed equipment as belonging to a very sophisticated alchemical lab. Apparently, some catastrophe had destroyed the lab and possibly caused a mixing of the chemicals within it that created the abomination. Alas, they would never know, since Ilthane had taken her secrets with her to her grave.</p><p></p><p>The League made their way back to the Deluxury, where Giovanni arranged for baths and new clothes to be provided for his cohorts before their meeting with Armhin Loratio. When the appointed hour arrived, the group went to the proprietor’s office, and were escorted directly in.</p><p>“Well, well,” the innkeeper said, pacing slowly in front of the motley crew. “You were certainly telling the truth, Lord Vito, when you described your associates as ‘colorful.’ However, as I mentioned to you before, the Prince expects a certain caliber of guest from me. So why don’t we start with you. Tell me something of your past accomplishments and your future goals.”</p><p>Giovanni nodded. “I understand perfectly. Well, I should start by mentioning that several of my teammates and I were very recently the winners of the Waterdeep Champion’s Games. We also were instrumental in ridding the town of Daggerford of a certain dragon that was plaguing it.”</p><p>“Intriguing,” Loratio said, still pacing. “So where will you go from here?”</p><p>Giovanni smiled, “My goals are simple. I intend to save the world…whether it wants to be saved or not.”</p><p>“Bravo,” Loratio grinned, “and what of you my large friend?” He stopped in front of Grubber. “What do they call you?”</p><p>“I am Grubber,” the goliath replied, bowing. “I am a traveling priest of Grumbar, the Earth Lord. I do not claim valorous titles or honor for myself. I seek merely to spread the word of the Unchanging One in a troubled world. My Lord has bestowed upon me certain talents, and with these I minister to the ill and infirm, both physically and spiritually.”</p><p>“I see,” Loratio said, rather dryly. “Just be sure that your god’s goals do not cross purposes with the Black Hand.” He moved on to Hawk. “What’s your story?”</p><p>“I serve Lord Vito,” the civilar said. “I have seen to his safety and protection on more than one occasion. I also acquitted myself respectably at the Champion’s Games.” He hooked his thumbs in the ornate Champions Belt around his waist. “As for my personal goals…I think I’d like to own my own continent some day.” He smiled and winked.</p><p>The proprietor looked puzzled for a moment, then laughed as if sharing a secret joke. He moved to stand before Faust.</p><p>“My but you’re an interesting looking creature,” he said, barely masking his disgust at the élan’s appearance, and smell.</p><p>“I’ve been called worse,” the psion said, smiling from ear to ear. “I’m Faust, but you can call me Holocaust. I am an élan, and I have lived for more than four-hundred years. To list all of my accomplishments over that time period would take your lifetime. Suffice it to say that I can spin a tale or two. I’ve seen the rise and fall of many of the Great, and I intend to witness many more.”</p><p>Once again Loratio smiled knowingly before turning his attention to Pavel. “You look like a feisty one.”</p><p>“Ye bet yer arse!” the dwarf snarled. “Pavel’s the name, and killin’s my game. My only goal is to stay alive long enough to kill everyone’o me backstabbin’ kin that banished me from me clan.”</p><p>“The Prince will simply love you,” Loratio drawled. Finally, he moved to Storm, letting his eyes roam slowly over her body. “And what do you do, my lovely?”</p><p>Storm lowered her eyes demurely. “Lord Vito’s pleasure is my command,” she said quietly.</p><p>“Of course it is,” Loratio leered. “I’m sure you will strike the Prince’s fancy as well.”</p><p></p><p>Finally, the innkeeper moved back to lean against his desk, eyeing them all critically. He sighed deeply, and motioned to Hawk. “You. Come with me for a moment. I’d like a word in private.” Hawk looked questioningly at Giovanni. The warlock nodded and the civilar followed Loratio to a smaller inner office.</p><p>“Let me be frank,” the proprietor began, “I can tell that there’s more to you than meets the eye, but I’ll not pry into your business. Suffice it to say that you are truly the only one of your band that I think will really fit in with the Prince’s crowd. Now, I will provide you with invitations for all of your colleagues, but let me be clear that their behavior is on your shoulders. If they cause any problems, you will be the one to pay the price. Are we clear?”</p><p>Hawk nodded, “Crystal.”</p><p>“Good.” Loratio said, and then retrieved a strongbox from a cabinet and unlocked it. He withdrew six rolled pieces of parchment tied with silk, and presented them to the civilar. Hawk took one of them and unrolled it:</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="gfunk, post: 2813740, member: 1813"] I’VE GOT A GOLDEN TICKET The following morning found the League members once more going their separate ways. In the wake of Drasek’s death, Grubber was even more determined to fulfill his promise to Furtopia. The old healer welcomed him, telling him there was much work to be done. Entering the sickhouse, the goliath was disheartened to see that those who had been healed the day before had been replaced by more of the afflicted. Grubber sighed, rolled up his sleeves and set to work. Giovanni and his entourage crossed the lobby of the Deluxury, intending to make another trip to the merchant’s guild when the desk clerk hailed them. “I have two messages for you, my lord,” the man said, passing the warlock one neatly rolled and tied piece of parchment, and one crudely folded sheet. Giovanni read the rolled message first: Lord Vito, As you requested, I am contacting you to inform you of some news that has come to my attention. It would seem that several foreign dignitaries who were invited to the Prince’s gala will not be attending. It would be a significant loss of face for the Prince should his party not be fully rounded out. It is my understanding that the extra invitations are now in the possession of Armhin Loratio, the proprietor of the Deluxury, and that he has been instructed to find people of suitable quality to give them to. I hope this will be of help to you, and that you will remember who your friends are. Trell. The second message was significantly less articulate: Be at the Ogre’s Hideout at sunset. News from Malchor. Hawk and Storm read the missives over Giovanni’s shoulder, and the civilar raised an eyebrow at the conclusion of the latter. Giovanni glanced up to see the clerk looking at him expectantly. The warlock cleared his throat. “Is Mister Loratio in?” he asked. “I believe he is, my Lord,” the clerk replied. “Would you be so good as to inform him that Lord Giovanni Vito requests a brief meeting with him?” As he spoke, he slid a platinum coin surreptitiously across the counter. “Certainly, my Lord,” the clerk said smiling, as he made the coin vanish as if by magic. He disappeared into a back room, returning a few moments later, still smiling. “Mister Loratio awaits your pleasure.” Giovanni instructed Hawk and Storm to wait for him, and then followed the clerk into the rear office. Armhin Loratio was a jolly-looking fellow, but his eyes bespoke a shrewd and cunning mind beneath the façade. He did not rise as Giovanni entered, but instead motioned for the warlock to be seated, and then dismissed the clerk. “How may I be of service, Lord Vito?” the hotelier asked without preamble. “As you may know,” Giovanni began, “I am from Sembia, seeking to establish some business contacts here in Starmantle. I have, of course heard of the coming gala, and those who are expected to be in attendance. It would present a wonderful opportunity for me to network with those in position to facilitate my venture. I have, ah…heard that you might be the man to see if one were to be looking to procure an invitation to this fete.” Loratio looked at him, unblinking, for a full thirty seconds before answering. “Assuming what you have heard is true, the Prince prides himself on the quality of those he chooses to surround himself with. I would insist on personally interviewing everyone in your retinue.” “Of course,” Giovanni replied. “I think you will find them a…colorful group. I can have them assembled by this evening.” “Very well,” Loratio said, rising and opening the door, “then I shall look forward to our meeting tonight.” Faust materialized within a nimbus of blue light inside the catacombs beneath the Church of Blessed Deliverance. Rhorsk did not seem surprised to see him. “I’m glad you’ve come,” the priest said. “I have already laid your comrade to rest.” He pointed to one of the newly sealed tombs, now inscribed with the symbol of Kelemvor. “I have news,” Rhorsk continued. Faust nodded, “If I didn’t know better,” he said, “I would think you were a psion yourself. It’s like you read my mind.” “It doesn’t take a mind reader to know what information you would find useful,” the priest chuckled. “It’s amazing what one can hear when one lurks in the sewers right beneath the feet of those above. Rumor has it that the remnants of the Ebon Triad in Starmantle had allied themselves with a dragon of late. However, I have also heard that same dragon was recently slain somewhere on the Sword Coast, but that its lair might be found somewhere beneath the Traitor’s Graves.” “Traitor’s Graves?” Faust asked. “It’s a small island in the river where the Prince disposes of dissidents.” “I see,” Faust said. “I don’t suppose you know what color this dragon was?” “Black,” said Rhorsk. Later that afternoon, the team regrouped on the patio outside the Deluxury and exchanged the information that they had uncovered. “It’s almost sunset now,” Giovanni said. “I suppose we should get over to the Ogre’s Hideout and see what Malchor sent us.” “Not you lot again!” Frill Beskered moaned when he saw Giovanni and his friends enter the taproom. “I told you once already, I ain’t looking for trouble!” “And we don’t intend to bring you any,” Giovanni said placatingly. “We just want to know if anyone new has checked in within the past two days.” “Yeah, him!” Frill said jerking a thumb towards a table in the corner. The group looked in that direction, but all they could see was a table stacked with ale steins. They walked curiously over, and Giovanni cleared his throat. “Did you leave a message at the Deluxury for Giovanni Vito?” “Who’s askin’?” came a gruff voice from the other side of the mugs. “I am Lord Vito.” “Lord is it?” scoffed the disembodied voice. “Way I heard it, yer family booted ya out. Ain’t lord of nothin’ no more.” “Whom do I have the pleasure of addressing?” Giovanni asked coolly. “You can call me Pavel.” A meaty hand casually swept the steins to the floor, revealing a scowling dwarf seated on the other side. His frizzy black hair stood up in all directions, like a crazed corona around his head. His beard was haphazardly bound in three braids. He wore well-made, but battered armor, and two large axes were strapped to his back. “I was sent by Harpell. He thought you lads…and lady, might need an extra hand.” “Perhaps,” Hawk said, stepping forward, “but it might help us to know something about your credentials.” In an eye blink, both axes were out and embedded in the stained wood of the table. “This is all the credentials I got!” Pavel bellowed, drawing the attention of several hobgoblins nearby. “Yes, well, we typically have a six month trial membership period,” Faust smiled. “I don’t work fer you, ugly,” the dwarf sneered. “I’m on Harpell’s payroll. He says help ya, and the price is right, so I’m here ta help, like it or not.” “I see,” Hawk said. “Well, as it just so happens, we were just on our way to a little rendezvous that might be right up your alley.” A low, sodden hummock of mud and rocky soil rose only a few feet above the dark brown waters of the slowly flowing river. Here and there, tangled patches of wiry undergrowth grew, interspersed with muddy pools of water. Wooden frames in the shape of a Y protruded from the island in several places, and on some of them still hung the rotting bodies of traitors executed for heinous crimes. A startling number of crows perched on these frames or hopped along the ground, where they hunted for bugs and worms. The League members slogged through the shallow waters of the river, which were only knee-deep at low tide, to the island, such as it was. Clouds of mosquitoes filled the air, buzzing and biting constantly. No sooner had the last member of the group set foot on the island, than the waters around it began to boil and froth. Six black-scaled dragons, roughly the size of small horses, with eyes that smoked with green vapor, crawled from the river, surrounding the party on all sides. The group tensed, readying themselves for battle, but then one of the dragons spoke in its native, hissing tongue. Only Faust was able to understand the creature. “We have need of you,” the dragon said. “Our lair has been invaded by a tremendous creature. It exceeds us. You will slay this invader for us, and we shall reward you handsomely.” “Um…is it the dragon Ilthane that you speak of?” Faust answered hesitantly in the wyrm’s language. The young dragon’s eyes darted towards its siblings and back. “We do not know she of whom you speak.” “I see,” Faust said, though he had not mentioned Ilthane’s gender. “What does this creature look like?” “It has the shape of our kind,” the dragon hissed, “yet much larger, and it has three heads made of bone.” Faust could not imagine what such a creature might be. “My companions do not understand you,” he said, buying time. “I must translate your words for them.” The dragon nodded, its eyes narrowing. The psion quickly summarized its offer for his comrades. “They actually expect us to work with them?” Hawk said incredulously. “Tell them absolutely not! We have had our share of deals with devils!” “I agree whole-heartedly,” Faust said. “Prepare yourselves while I tell them we decline their offer.” Turning back to the dragon, Faust smiled. “My friends say they would be happy to assist you, but you must first give us a moment to prepare for the coming battle.” The dragon eyed the élan suspiciously, and then nodded again, slowly. “Be hasty.” Faust turned again to his friends, “They’re not taking it well. Since black dragons breathe acid, I think it would be wise to protect ourselves, don’t you Grubber?” The goliath looked momentarily confused, and then understanding dawned on him. He spoke a prayer, conveying a minor miracle upon all of his team mates that would render them somewhat impervious to the effects of caustics. “Good,” Faust said. “Hawk, I don’t think they’re going to take no for an answer. I suggest we strike…now!” Havok didn’t hesitate. A sizzling blast of eldritch energy leaped from his hand to the three nearest dragons, in a noxious chain. The young dragons writhed in agony, and one began retching violently. Quicker than thought, the warlock unleashed a second blast, this one striking only one of the beasts this time, but leaving it quivering and near death. Right on the heels of Havok’s attack, Grubber raised one fist into the air, calling on Grumbar to rain a Storm of Shards down upon all of the dragons. Havok’s first victim collapsed, while the eyes of the sickened wyrm suddenly lost their emerald glow as the creature was blinded by Grumbar’s holy power. Wailing pitifully, the wretched dragon slithered back into the river. The four remaining dragons, two on each side of the League, simultaneously stretched their maws and breathed forth streams of hissing acid, catching the entire group in a deadly crossfire. When the steam from the fluid abated, not a mark shown on any of the heroes, Grubber’s magic having afforded them complete protection. Lowering his shield, Hawk lunged forward, running the nearest dragon through with his family blade. A stunning jolt of energy surged through the blade, leaving the young wyrm twitching uncontrollably. Taking a page from Havok’s book of tricks, Storm twined her hands above her head, generating a turbine of electricity there before hurling it at the two dragons nearest her. The bolt arced between the pair, killing one instantly. Faust was feeling cocky. His companions seemed to be having no trouble dealing with the dragons, and the psion saw no point in wasting his precious mental energies. Concentrating, he morphed himself into his now-familiar stone giant form and lumbered towards one of the dragons. The dragon crouched as he approached, and when he tried to sweep the beast into a bear-hug, it fought like a cat, hissing and scratching before wriggling out of his arms. “Having trouble, eh?” Pavel laughed, stomping on the retreating dragon’s tail and then burying one of his axes in its haunch. The creature wailed and squirmed even harder to escape. “Seems like you’re both having some trouble,” Havok laughed, before sending another chain of stinking energy into both the dragon attempting to escape, and its helpless sibling cowering before Hawk. Now, that creature also began vomiting continuously. “There is no honor in this,” Hawk said with a scowl as he brought his blade down upon the pitiful thing in front of him, putting an end to its suffering. It was only a matter of time before the remaining pair of dragons fell before the combined onslaught of the League. “I hope that was just the appetizer,” Pavel bellowed, “’cause I’m still hungry!” “You heard what the dragons said,” Giovanni reminded him. “It would seem something else has taken up residence in Ilthane’s lair. The problem is, we just killed our only sources for finding it.” “Not quite,” Faust replied. “Black dragons typically lair in underground or underwater caves. Since the young ones came up on land, we can assume the entrance is here on the island somewhere. I’ll just have a look around.” Morphing again, the psion assumed the form of a large, beetle-like creature…an umberhulk, and then promptly burrowed into the soggy ground. A short time later, he reemerged and resumed his giant habitus. “There’s a shaft leading straight down just over there,” he indicated a nondescript patch of earth in the center of the island. “There appears to be some sort of cave below it.” “Let’s not waste time then,” Giovanni said. “Everyone join hands.” The group gathered around him, all except Faust, who in his current incarnation would have to provide his own means of transportation, being too large for the warlock to accommodate. In a flash of light, they vanished. The earthen-walled cavern reeked of sharp, bitter chemicals strong enough to water the eyes and steal the breath. The walls were a tangled mess of roots, mud and stone. Water dripped constantly from them, gathering in puddles on the floor and collecting in a fuming pool to the east. North of the cavern entrance, four large, glass canisters once stood, now shattered with their contents washed away. To the northeast, a ledge was heaped with smashed containers, crates, and other unrecognizable ruins. To the east, a second ledge was similarly cluttered, only this time with alchemical equipment and large, ruined tables of stone and wood. Havok scanned the room quickly, his fiend-touched eyes showing him nothing concealed by invisibility within his line of sight. Cautiously, Faust approached the pool, allowing his Touchsight to peer beneath its calm surface. Nothing lay there save more debris and a few skulls. Suddenly, the still pool began to churn violently, sliding up onto itself and quickly filling out into the form of a lumbering, draconic beast. The thing’s body was semi-translucent and gelatinous, with streamers of acid dripping from its flanks to sizzle on the ground. Some of these strands writhed and cracked like whips. Its long neck ended in a disturbing tangle of skulls, some human, some draconic, and some something in between. Before Faust could react, the skulls screamed simultaneously, and as they did so, a great gout of yellow-green acid spewed forth, drenching the psion from head-to-toe. Though Grubber’s spell still protected him, Faust still felt a few sharp stings on his flesh, and he knew that had it not been for that protection, he might well be dead. Havok had conserved most of his strength for this moment, and now he held nothing back, hurling back-to-back surges of his most powerful blasts. Both passed harmlessly through the creature. On the heels of this came a fiery burst from Storm, which proved equally ineffective. Both arcanists stared at each other, mouths hanging open. “Maybe steel’ll do where magic can’t,” Pavel snarled, and he charged forward, Hawk right behind him. The dwarf reached the creature first, slashing one of his axes furiously across its long neck…and standing dumbfounded as the weapon cleaved nothing but air. Hawk took a different tact, and aimed his blow at one of the undulating skulls. His blade connected solidly, and a large crack appeared in the bone, but almost immediately it began to knit itself back together. “Just hold it there!” Faust shouted at the warriors as he stepped back from the edge of the caustic pool. Concentrating, he manifested a writhing current of fire from the center of his brow, sending it like a whip at the monster. This too passed through the beast as if it were non-existent. The psion was beginning to believe that no magic of any sort could touch it. Another failed salvo from Havok and Storm only reaffirmed this belief. Even Hawk’s blade failed to connect a second time. It was Grubber who stumbled upon the key. Taking a chance, and mainly trying to buy his friends some time, he chanted a prayer, creating a whirling wall of blades that cut directly through the space in which the abomination stood. To his, and everyone’s amazement, the blades actually seemed to harm the beast. It screamed in an unearthly shriek, and backed quickly out of the biting wall, placing it between itself and its attackers. Then Grubber understood. The blades were made of pure force, an energy which could harm even intangible beings such as ghosts and wraiths. Perhaps this creature was similar in nature. “Force!” he cried to his spell-casting comrades. “Use force effects!” Unfortunately, Faust had no such options available to him, but he did understand the nature of incorporeality, and knew that such creatures tended to shift rapidly between their solid and intangible forms. He could still get lucky and strike the creature with his energy current when it was momentarily solid. Focusing his will, he lashed out again, and this time the flaming whip actually burned the beast, causing it to wail louder. At that moment, however, it breathed its searing breath again, catching Pavel and Hawk, as well as the psion. Though Grubber’s spell again deflected the bulk of the effect from Faust, Pavel and Hawk did not possess the toughened flesh of a stone giant, and Faust could see their skin blister and crisp under the assault. Yet the warriors did not falter. Striking through the intervening wall of blades, Pavel managed to connect twice with his twin blades, though Hawk could not duplicate his earlier effort. Havok and Storm both shrugged at Grubber, unable to generate the type of magic that was required. The goliath knew that it was solely up to him. As the creature breathed a third time upon the warriors and Faust, Grubber called upon Grumbar one final time, calling down a hammer-blow of righteous power. The concussive force struck the horror at the base of its neck, severing it from its amorphous body. In an instant, the beast’s entire form collapsed back into the pool. A thorough search of Ilthane’s lair turned up thousands of corroded and useless coins and pieces of jewelry. Storm identified most of the smashed equipment as belonging to a very sophisticated alchemical lab. Apparently, some catastrophe had destroyed the lab and possibly caused a mixing of the chemicals within it that created the abomination. Alas, they would never know, since Ilthane had taken her secrets with her to her grave. The League made their way back to the Deluxury, where Giovanni arranged for baths and new clothes to be provided for his cohorts before their meeting with Armhin Loratio. When the appointed hour arrived, the group went to the proprietor’s office, and were escorted directly in. “Well, well,” the innkeeper said, pacing slowly in front of the motley crew. “You were certainly telling the truth, Lord Vito, when you described your associates as ‘colorful.’ However, as I mentioned to you before, the Prince expects a certain caliber of guest from me. So why don’t we start with you. Tell me something of your past accomplishments and your future goals.” Giovanni nodded. “I understand perfectly. Well, I should start by mentioning that several of my teammates and I were very recently the winners of the Waterdeep Champion’s Games. We also were instrumental in ridding the town of Daggerford of a certain dragon that was plaguing it.” “Intriguing,” Loratio said, still pacing. “So where will you go from here?” Giovanni smiled, “My goals are simple. I intend to save the world…whether it wants to be saved or not.” “Bravo,” Loratio grinned, “and what of you my large friend?” He stopped in front of Grubber. “What do they call you?” “I am Grubber,” the goliath replied, bowing. “I am a traveling priest of Grumbar, the Earth Lord. I do not claim valorous titles or honor for myself. I seek merely to spread the word of the Unchanging One in a troubled world. My Lord has bestowed upon me certain talents, and with these I minister to the ill and infirm, both physically and spiritually.” “I see,” Loratio said, rather dryly. “Just be sure that your god’s goals do not cross purposes with the Black Hand.” He moved on to Hawk. “What’s your story?” “I serve Lord Vito,” the civilar said. “I have seen to his safety and protection on more than one occasion. I also acquitted myself respectably at the Champion’s Games.” He hooked his thumbs in the ornate Champions Belt around his waist. “As for my personal goals…I think I’d like to own my own continent some day.” He smiled and winked. The proprietor looked puzzled for a moment, then laughed as if sharing a secret joke. He moved to stand before Faust. “My but you’re an interesting looking creature,” he said, barely masking his disgust at the élan’s appearance, and smell. “I’ve been called worse,” the psion said, smiling from ear to ear. “I’m Faust, but you can call me Holocaust. I am an élan, and I have lived for more than four-hundred years. To list all of my accomplishments over that time period would take your lifetime. Suffice it to say that I can spin a tale or two. I’ve seen the rise and fall of many of the Great, and I intend to witness many more.” Once again Loratio smiled knowingly before turning his attention to Pavel. “You look like a feisty one.” “Ye bet yer arse!” the dwarf snarled. “Pavel’s the name, and killin’s my game. My only goal is to stay alive long enough to kill everyone’o me backstabbin’ kin that banished me from me clan.” “The Prince will simply love you,” Loratio drawled. Finally, he moved to Storm, letting his eyes roam slowly over her body. “And what do you do, my lovely?” Storm lowered her eyes demurely. “Lord Vito’s pleasure is my command,” she said quietly. “Of course it is,” Loratio leered. “I’m sure you will strike the Prince’s fancy as well.” Finally, the innkeeper moved back to lean against his desk, eyeing them all critically. He sighed deeply, and motioned to Hawk. “You. Come with me for a moment. I’d like a word in private.” Hawk looked questioningly at Giovanni. The warlock nodded and the civilar followed Loratio to a smaller inner office. “Let me be frank,” the proprietor began, “I can tell that there’s more to you than meets the eye, but I’ll not pry into your business. Suffice it to say that you are truly the only one of your band that I think will really fit in with the Prince’s crowd. Now, I will provide you with invitations for all of your colleagues, but let me be clear that their behavior is on your shoulders. If they cause any problems, you will be the one to pay the price. Are we clear?” Hawk nodded, “Crystal.” “Good.” Loratio said, and then retrieved a strongbox from a cabinet and unlocked it. He withdrew six rolled pieces of parchment tied with silk, and presented them to the civilar. Hawk took one of them and unrolled it: [/QUOTE]
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JollyDoc's Age of Worms (Updated 11/30, Epilogue!)
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