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JollyDoc's Curse of the Crimson Throne: Updated 1/29/10
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<blockquote data-quote="JollyDoc" data-source="post: 4989253" data-attributes="member: 9546"><p>CASTLE CRASHERS</p><p></p><p>Sabina drew a detailed map of the castle, pointing out each area as she did so. She pointed out several possible entrances, but the one that seemed most tactical to the companions was a storage area on the keep’s fourth floor. It was there that Zarmangarof had laired, and the dragon had torn a hole in the floor of an overhang, allowing him to fly out into the night unseen on his hunting forays. As for herself, Sabina asked to be allowed to move against the Longacre Building. If she could draw upon the aid of some of the Gray Maidens still loyal to her, she could infiltrate the building and release the prisoners within. Properly outfitted and armed, they could provide a potent fighting force for the rebels when the time came to retake the city. The group agreed with her logic, and O’Reginald transported the lot of them back to Korvosa.</p><p></p><p>Once they parted company with Sabina, Katarina cloaked the group in a sphere of invisibility as they flew above the city rooftops to Castle Korvosa. It was only the work of a few minutes to find the concealed hole in the caste eaves and slip inside undetected. They made their way through the empty storage area to the castle’s main attic, heading for the keep’s central stairwell on the far side. Before they reached it, however, Sabina’s map indicated a secluded room off the attic that looked to contain some sort of hidden chamber within. Their curiosity piqued, the companions moved through another narrow storage room, finding a small, locked door on the far side. </p><p></p><p>Kat made quick work of the lock, and the door swung open to reveal a small apartment. The room was dusty and appeared to have been abandoned for awhile, though it showed an unexpected level of comfort. A large bed sat in one corner, and there was a nice table with two chairs, a desk with a stuffed armchair, a lamp, and a stove. On the east wall was a glass showcase full of rare card decks. There were at least fifty different decks, all displayed with care and competence, most with several pieces laid face-up and with matching leather, ivory or wood cases. What looked like a partially melted stone trapdoor sat in the floor in northern corner of the room, and a single toilet sat behind a partially folded screen to the south. No sooner had the group entered the room, than the sound of furtive scratching came from behind the far wall. Kat, feeling an odd compulsion from the Harrow deck at her hip, moved quickly to the panel. She ran her hands over it and felt a hidden catch. When she triggered it, the wall swung out.</p><p></p><p>The dusty room beyond contained a well-made bed, a large armchair, a one-legged table, and a silver lantern. On the table near the lantern sat a dusty Harrow deck in an elongated redwood case. As Kat stepped into the room, the temperature abruptly dropped by several degrees. A few moments later, a strange, rolling mist seemed to rise from the cards in the case, causing them to flutter and dance upon the table as if in a small breeze. The mist took on a vaguely humanoid form…that of an older man with tiny horns on his brow…a tiefling! He reached out towards Katarina and whispered in a gravelly voice…</p><p>“Bring me my bones…they rot so far below…bring me my bones…I can help you if you bring me my bones…”</p><p>A moment later the spirit faded away and the cards became still once more. Kat stood silent for a moment, her head cocked as if listening.</p><p>“They’re below,” she said abruptly, turning to her companions. “Zellara tells me the bones are below and she can lead us there. We need to find them!”</p><p>_____________________________________________________</p><p></p><p>The grand staircase wound from Castle Korvosa’s uppermost pinnacle to its lowest dungeon. Kat was single-minded. Zellara kept pulling her down and down, but O’Reginald stopped them on the third floor.</p><p>“What?” Kat asked impatiently.</p><p>“Look,” the wizard said, “I know you’ve got this precognitive vibe going and everything, but if I’m not mistaken there are a couple of other things we’re supposed to be doing here as well, right? I mean, we can go dig up these bones eventually, but what’s wrong with having a look around as we move?”</p><p>Kat rolled her eyes. “Fine!” she snapped. “Whatever, let’s just keep going.”</p><p></p><p>The third floor landing of the grand staircase gave onto a great salon. The wooden floor, walls and ceiling of the large hall presented a rich and harmonic scheme of decorations. The high ceiling was supported by pillars inlaid with ivory and partially hidden by a hanging forest of silk draperies in the colors of autumn. Near the walls, the draperies reached down to the floor in foamy cascades of deep red and yellow-orange silk. Crimson circular couches sat around the base of the pillars, with matching stuffed stools and low, ebony tea tables with stained glass tops. In the middle of the hall was an empty space that served as a dance floor, and a balustrade opening to the stage hall below. Cautiously, the group started across the hall, Herc and Ratbone taking point. As they reached the center of the room, Ratbone’s snout abruptly lifted towards the ceiling. Herc’s eyes followed and there, among the hanging silks, he saw several hammocks strung, all but hidden from view. Red-clad figures swung out of them, grabbing the silks and sliding down them like glass ropes. Shrill whistles came from their mantis-masked faces as they came, and more figures boiled out of the rafters. </p><p></p><p>As the first of the assassins hit the floor, Herc was already in motion. He struck the foremost mantis solidly, shield lowered, slamming the murderer back over a dozen feet. The big mercenary leaped after him, bringing down the edge of his shield on the assassin’s neck before he could rise, insuring that he never would do so again. Meanwhile, Ratbone seized another in his jaws, shaking him savagely and snapping his neck before tossing his limp body aside and turning on another, disemboweling him with a vicious rake of razor-sharp claws. Three more Red Mantes landed deftly, circling the two warriors. Abruptly, a blinding spray of color struck one of them from behind from Kat’s outstretched hand. Ratbone leaped on the stunned man like a dog on a rabbit. Another of the assassins tumbled towards and over the balustrade, but as he began to fall, he was stopped short, hanging in mid-air </p><p>“Not leaving so quickly, are you?” O’Reginald smiled. He had erected an invisible force wall across the opening, and as the mantis tried to rise to his feet on the slippery surface, Herc ran him through with Serithtial. Ratbone turned on the last of the assassins, his jaws dripping blood. The man screamed in mortal terror as the druid rushed towards him.</p><p></p><p>“Nicely done, heroes,” a woman’s voice sneered from behind the companions, “but Ileosa isn’t paying us just to dance with you. Once you’ve gained the attention of the Red Mantis, you’re living on borrowed time, and now the time has come for all debts to be paid!”</p><p></p><p>The voice belonged to a deadly beautiful young woman whose lucent white skin was offset by her raven black hair. She wore the familiar garb of the Red Mantis, save for the insectile mask. She carried a saw-tooth saber in each hand, both crackling with electricity, and her waist and legs where festooned with a multitude of scabbarded throwing daggers.</p><p>“I am Kayltanya,” she said, smiling through bared teeth. “I tell you this only so that you might tell whatever Power you hold holy whom it was that sent you to your final reward.”</p><p>She then raised her hands high above her head, and as she did so, two great plumes of crimson smoke appeared in the middle of the chamber, and from each of them erupted an enormous praying mantis, their carapaces studded with wicked hooks and spikes, their compound eyes gleaming blood red. Both of them rushed forward, but Herc stood his ground directly in their path. With two quick flicks of Serithtial, the mercenary decapitated both of the fiendish insects, causing their bodies to vanish as quickly as they’d appeared.</p><p>“Is that all you’ve got?” he chortled.</p><p>“Not quite,” Kayltanya grinned in return. In a flash of scarlet light, the mistress of assassins vanished, only to reappear a moment later across the room, standing directly behind Michael. The priest turned, his eyes going wide as he realized his peril. Kayltanya’s blades moved in a blur, opening horrible wounds in Michael’s chest and belly. She whirled, leaping into the air as she drove her blade completely through him, the tip exploding in electric fire as it struck. Slowly, as if time had suddenly contracted down to a pinpoint, Michael slumped to his knees, then to his side, his eyes wide and staring.</p><p>“Told you,” Kayltanya said, turning towards O’Reginald.</p><p>Then it was her turn to widen her eyes as Herc hurtled into her like a charging bull. He struck like raging dervish, sword and shield a symphony of motion. When his last blow fell, Kayltanya tumbled backwards over the balcony and plummeted to the ballroom below.</p><p></p><p>From the dim shadows in the far corner of the salon, a lone mantis assassin watched. His blood boiled for vengeance, but he knew his duty. He silently slipped away into the darkness. He had to warn the seneschal.</p><p>__________________________________________________________</p><p></p><p>“What are we going to do without Michael?” Herc asked.</p><p>“Better?” O’Reginald offered, earning him a withering look from Katarina.</p><p>“We’ll come back for him when we’re done here,” she replied. </p><p>“Assuming we survive,” O’Reginald grumbled.</p><p>“If we don’t, then Michael’s already better off where he is,” Kat snapped.</p><p></p><p>One by one, the remaining companions dropped over the salon balcony to the stage hall below. Sabina had told them that Ileosa had been spending most of her time in her chambers of late, and the map she’d given them showed the royal bedroom to be on this floor. There was a foyer off the stage hall that gave onto the bedchamber, but there was also a secret door which led from Sabina’s chambers nearby. Their plan was to post Herc outside the secret door, while the rest would enter via the foyer. That way Ileosa could not easily flee, and would be caught in a pincer. When they entered Ileosa’s room, however, it was empty. The walls were paneled with darkwood planks and decorated with elaborate tapestries and hanging silks. A double canopied bed dominated the northeast part of the chamber, while to the southwest stood a desk and stuffed armchair. Stained-glass windows along the southwest wall depicted complex patterns of swirling reds, fiery oranges, and bright yellows. The bed appeared to have not been slept in for some time.</p><p>“What now?” O’Reginald asked.</p><p>“The throne room,” Kat said without hesitation. “The map shows it just down the hall. Let’s go!”</p><p></p><p>As they turned and left, alien eyes watched them go. Sermignatto, known to some as the Lord of Bloody Quicksands, lurked nearby, but an infinite distance away. He lay hidden on the Ethereal plane, adjacent to reality, but so far removed as well. The bdellavritra fiend followed after the companions, moving easily through walls as if they were mist, sending out a silent call to his minions, summoning them to battle.</p><p>_______________________________________________________</p><p></p><p>The magnificent throne room was lavishly decorated with frescoes, mosaics, and hanging tapestries of gilt crimson silk. Three colorful stained-glass panes on the windows presented scenes of past kings and queens. A huge fireplace stood in the east corner, its mantle shaped like an enormous stone tree that had spread its branches up to the ceiling. Against the southwest wall, on a low dais of granite, sat the Crimson Throne itself, an iron throne draped with deep red silks and velvety crimson cushions. Four Gray Maidens stood on the floor below the throne, and each held a length of thick iron links attached to spiked steel collars worn by four massive hounds, easily the size of war horses. The hounds had fur of deep umber, and their eyes glowed crimson. Flames licked from their jaws as their tongues lolled and acidic drool pooled around their clawed feet. Seated upon the throne was none other than Ileosa herself, the Crown of Fangs upon her brow. </p><p></p><p>“Welcome, my friends,” the young queen smiled as the five companions entered her presence. “I thank you for seeking me out. I’ve been observing your progress over the past few months, and I’m grateful for the assistance you have provided the people of Korvosa.”</p><p>In an instant, the smile vanished from her face and her demeanor turned icy. </p><p>“Now, however, your services are no longer needed. If you leave Korvosa immediately, and never return, I will not see your execution as traitors to the Crown.”</p><p>“It is you who have betrayed Korvosa, witch!” Katarina shouted. “And it is you who shall be leaving Korvosa and its people, one way or another!”</p><p></p><p>As Kat’s words echoed through the throne room, Ratbone leapt into motion. The feral druid somersaulted over the hounds and Gray Maidens, landing in a crouch before the Crimson Throne. Before Ileosa could react, he reached forward with one clawed hand and snatched the Crown of Fangs from her head. As he turned and leapt away again, Katarina drew a scroll from her belt and quickly read the arcane words written there. With a roar like thunder, five tons of wood and stone appeared out of thin air above the Crimson Throne and crushed Ileosa beneath. Just like that, it was over…only her minions didn’t seem to know it. They learned better moments later when O’Reginald’s fireball roared through the deadfall, setting it ablaze and immolating one of the Gray Maidens. The warhounds ignored the flames completely, their abyssal blood rendering them immune, but they could not ignore Ratbone’s fangs, nor Serithtial’s bite. Three went down in a haze of blood and fur, then the druid and merc turned on the last one and the remaining Maidens. The fight was over before it had really had a chance to begin…or so they thought.</p><p>_______________________________________________________</p><p></p><p>“Now!” Togomor commanded the squad of Gray Maidens who waited outside the throne room in the entry hall. The bloat mage had heard Sermignatto’s summons, and had been compelled to respond, despite his own self-loathing at being manipulated as if he were no more than a puppet on a string. The Maiden’s surged through the throne room doors as the seneschal quickly rendered himself invisible and followed behind.</p><p>_______________________________________________________</p><p></p><p>Ratbone tore furiously at the deadfall. He had seen Ileosa…smelled her! He knew she had been there, yet he couldn’t sense her now. Surely she could not have died so easily. Then there was the matter of the Crown of Fangs. For an item reputed to be so Evil…it felt like nothing more than a cold iron trinket. His search was interrupted a moment later, however, when the doors at the far side of the throne room burst open and another dozen or more Gray Maidens rushed in. Ratbone turned, snarling, blood frenzy in his eyes. Suddenly, the air in front of him seemed to freeze solid as a searing polar blast of energy struck him from out of nowhere. He reeled, pierced by a pain he had never before experienced. Chilled to the marrow of his bones, he collapsed to his knees.</p><p></p><p>O’Reginald turned towards the invading Maiden’s as well, and he saw where the polar ray had originated from, though he could not see the caster. He didn’t need to. He hurled a ball of fire and acid into the midst of the Gray Maiden’s, and when it exploded, it engulfed the area where he knew the unseen wizard to be. Then Herc drove into the midst of Ileosa’s guards, hacking and slashing with Serithtial, cutting down a half dozen of the badly burned women before they could recover from O’Reginald’s blast. </p><p></p><p>Ratbone slowly felt the numbness seep from his limbs and he surged to his feet. He raised his muzzle to the air and sniffed. He closed his eyes and began making odd clicking sounds with his tongue. The vibrations they set off in the air around him bounced back to his hyperacute ears from the people and objects around him, and there, at the far side of the room, he sensed a presence he had not seen when his eyes were open. His eyes still closed, he leaped, and Togomor’s stench of blood nearly overwhelmed him as he closed on the bloat mage. Jaws gaping, he clamped his fangs down, but it felt as if he had bitten into raw granite. A moment later, the mage was gone.</p><p></p><p>Togomor thanked whatever Powers still favored him that he had the foresight to cast the stoneskin spell upon himself before he’d entered the battle. Fortunately, the savage’s bite had done little actual damage, and he’d been able to teleport quickly away. Still invisible, he now stood on the far side of the room, directly behind the male and female wizards, and the archer. Quickly, he spoke a few arcane words, and instantaneously erected a wall of pure force across the throne room, separating the druid and his sword-wielding companion from the rest of their allies. </p><p></p><p>Ratbone roared in impotent rage at the escape of his foe. He turned this way and that, slapping Gray Maidens aside like ragdolls as he searched for Togomor’s scent. Then…he had it! Behind O’Reginald and Kat! He bounded on all fours across the room, but halfway through, he slammed head first into an invisible wall. Howling and snarling, he clawed and bit at the barrier, but to no avail.</p><p></p><p>“Now,” Togomor spoke, still unseen, “where were we? Ah yes…I was just about to kill you all!”</p><p>He hurled a flashing barrage of arcane bolts at Katarina, and the sorceress reeled from the impact. As she fetched up against the force wall, she countered with her own magic, filling the air with glittering dust. It settled over the bloat mage, limning him in gold for all to see. A moment later, the wall behind her vanished as O’Reginald erased it from existence with a bolt of disintegrating power. Togomor shrieked as he saw Ratbone lunging towards him. He tried to fly to the ceiling, but the druid seized his leg. As Ratbone’s claws closed over his flesh, he felt a burning cold run through him. Looking down, he saw golden ice covering him from foot to mid-thigh, and rising rapidly. Within moments, his torso and arms were covered in the stuff. He couldn’t move…could barely breath. He drew his last shuttering breath as Ratbone’s jaws closed over his windpipe.</p><p></p><p></p><p>¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="JollyDoc, post: 4989253, member: 9546"] CASTLE CRASHERS Sabina drew a detailed map of the castle, pointing out each area as she did so. She pointed out several possible entrances, but the one that seemed most tactical to the companions was a storage area on the keep’s fourth floor. It was there that Zarmangarof had laired, and the dragon had torn a hole in the floor of an overhang, allowing him to fly out into the night unseen on his hunting forays. As for herself, Sabina asked to be allowed to move against the Longacre Building. If she could draw upon the aid of some of the Gray Maidens still loyal to her, she could infiltrate the building and release the prisoners within. Properly outfitted and armed, they could provide a potent fighting force for the rebels when the time came to retake the city. The group agreed with her logic, and O’Reginald transported the lot of them back to Korvosa. Once they parted company with Sabina, Katarina cloaked the group in a sphere of invisibility as they flew above the city rooftops to Castle Korvosa. It was only the work of a few minutes to find the concealed hole in the caste eaves and slip inside undetected. They made their way through the empty storage area to the castle’s main attic, heading for the keep’s central stairwell on the far side. Before they reached it, however, Sabina’s map indicated a secluded room off the attic that looked to contain some sort of hidden chamber within. Their curiosity piqued, the companions moved through another narrow storage room, finding a small, locked door on the far side. Kat made quick work of the lock, and the door swung open to reveal a small apartment. The room was dusty and appeared to have been abandoned for awhile, though it showed an unexpected level of comfort. A large bed sat in one corner, and there was a nice table with two chairs, a desk with a stuffed armchair, a lamp, and a stove. On the east wall was a glass showcase full of rare card decks. There were at least fifty different decks, all displayed with care and competence, most with several pieces laid face-up and with matching leather, ivory or wood cases. What looked like a partially melted stone trapdoor sat in the floor in northern corner of the room, and a single toilet sat behind a partially folded screen to the south. No sooner had the group entered the room, than the sound of furtive scratching came from behind the far wall. Kat, feeling an odd compulsion from the Harrow deck at her hip, moved quickly to the panel. She ran her hands over it and felt a hidden catch. When she triggered it, the wall swung out. The dusty room beyond contained a well-made bed, a large armchair, a one-legged table, and a silver lantern. On the table near the lantern sat a dusty Harrow deck in an elongated redwood case. As Kat stepped into the room, the temperature abruptly dropped by several degrees. A few moments later, a strange, rolling mist seemed to rise from the cards in the case, causing them to flutter and dance upon the table as if in a small breeze. The mist took on a vaguely humanoid form…that of an older man with tiny horns on his brow…a tiefling! He reached out towards Katarina and whispered in a gravelly voice… “Bring me my bones…they rot so far below…bring me my bones…I can help you if you bring me my bones…” A moment later the spirit faded away and the cards became still once more. Kat stood silent for a moment, her head cocked as if listening. “They’re below,” she said abruptly, turning to her companions. “Zellara tells me the bones are below and she can lead us there. We need to find them!” _____________________________________________________ The grand staircase wound from Castle Korvosa’s uppermost pinnacle to its lowest dungeon. Kat was single-minded. Zellara kept pulling her down and down, but O’Reginald stopped them on the third floor. “What?” Kat asked impatiently. “Look,” the wizard said, “I know you’ve got this precognitive vibe going and everything, but if I’m not mistaken there are a couple of other things we’re supposed to be doing here as well, right? I mean, we can go dig up these bones eventually, but what’s wrong with having a look around as we move?” Kat rolled her eyes. “Fine!” she snapped. “Whatever, let’s just keep going.” The third floor landing of the grand staircase gave onto a great salon. The wooden floor, walls and ceiling of the large hall presented a rich and harmonic scheme of decorations. The high ceiling was supported by pillars inlaid with ivory and partially hidden by a hanging forest of silk draperies in the colors of autumn. Near the walls, the draperies reached down to the floor in foamy cascades of deep red and yellow-orange silk. Crimson circular couches sat around the base of the pillars, with matching stuffed stools and low, ebony tea tables with stained glass tops. In the middle of the hall was an empty space that served as a dance floor, and a balustrade opening to the stage hall below. Cautiously, the group started across the hall, Herc and Ratbone taking point. As they reached the center of the room, Ratbone’s snout abruptly lifted towards the ceiling. Herc’s eyes followed and there, among the hanging silks, he saw several hammocks strung, all but hidden from view. Red-clad figures swung out of them, grabbing the silks and sliding down them like glass ropes. Shrill whistles came from their mantis-masked faces as they came, and more figures boiled out of the rafters. As the first of the assassins hit the floor, Herc was already in motion. He struck the foremost mantis solidly, shield lowered, slamming the murderer back over a dozen feet. The big mercenary leaped after him, bringing down the edge of his shield on the assassin’s neck before he could rise, insuring that he never would do so again. Meanwhile, Ratbone seized another in his jaws, shaking him savagely and snapping his neck before tossing his limp body aside and turning on another, disemboweling him with a vicious rake of razor-sharp claws. Three more Red Mantes landed deftly, circling the two warriors. Abruptly, a blinding spray of color struck one of them from behind from Kat’s outstretched hand. Ratbone leaped on the stunned man like a dog on a rabbit. Another of the assassins tumbled towards and over the balustrade, but as he began to fall, he was stopped short, hanging in mid-air “Not leaving so quickly, are you?” O’Reginald smiled. He had erected an invisible force wall across the opening, and as the mantis tried to rise to his feet on the slippery surface, Herc ran him through with Serithtial. Ratbone turned on the last of the assassins, his jaws dripping blood. The man screamed in mortal terror as the druid rushed towards him. “Nicely done, heroes,” a woman’s voice sneered from behind the companions, “but Ileosa isn’t paying us just to dance with you. Once you’ve gained the attention of the Red Mantis, you’re living on borrowed time, and now the time has come for all debts to be paid!” The voice belonged to a deadly beautiful young woman whose lucent white skin was offset by her raven black hair. She wore the familiar garb of the Red Mantis, save for the insectile mask. She carried a saw-tooth saber in each hand, both crackling with electricity, and her waist and legs where festooned with a multitude of scabbarded throwing daggers. “I am Kayltanya,” she said, smiling through bared teeth. “I tell you this only so that you might tell whatever Power you hold holy whom it was that sent you to your final reward.” She then raised her hands high above her head, and as she did so, two great plumes of crimson smoke appeared in the middle of the chamber, and from each of them erupted an enormous praying mantis, their carapaces studded with wicked hooks and spikes, their compound eyes gleaming blood red. Both of them rushed forward, but Herc stood his ground directly in their path. With two quick flicks of Serithtial, the mercenary decapitated both of the fiendish insects, causing their bodies to vanish as quickly as they’d appeared. “Is that all you’ve got?” he chortled. “Not quite,” Kayltanya grinned in return. In a flash of scarlet light, the mistress of assassins vanished, only to reappear a moment later across the room, standing directly behind Michael. The priest turned, his eyes going wide as he realized his peril. Kayltanya’s blades moved in a blur, opening horrible wounds in Michael’s chest and belly. She whirled, leaping into the air as she drove her blade completely through him, the tip exploding in electric fire as it struck. Slowly, as if time had suddenly contracted down to a pinpoint, Michael slumped to his knees, then to his side, his eyes wide and staring. “Told you,” Kayltanya said, turning towards O’Reginald. Then it was her turn to widen her eyes as Herc hurtled into her like a charging bull. He struck like raging dervish, sword and shield a symphony of motion. When his last blow fell, Kayltanya tumbled backwards over the balcony and plummeted to the ballroom below. From the dim shadows in the far corner of the salon, a lone mantis assassin watched. His blood boiled for vengeance, but he knew his duty. He silently slipped away into the darkness. He had to warn the seneschal. __________________________________________________________ “What are we going to do without Michael?” Herc asked. “Better?” O’Reginald offered, earning him a withering look from Katarina. “We’ll come back for him when we’re done here,” she replied. “Assuming we survive,” O’Reginald grumbled. “If we don’t, then Michael’s already better off where he is,” Kat snapped. One by one, the remaining companions dropped over the salon balcony to the stage hall below. Sabina had told them that Ileosa had been spending most of her time in her chambers of late, and the map she’d given them showed the royal bedroom to be on this floor. There was a foyer off the stage hall that gave onto the bedchamber, but there was also a secret door which led from Sabina’s chambers nearby. Their plan was to post Herc outside the secret door, while the rest would enter via the foyer. That way Ileosa could not easily flee, and would be caught in a pincer. When they entered Ileosa’s room, however, it was empty. The walls were paneled with darkwood planks and decorated with elaborate tapestries and hanging silks. A double canopied bed dominated the northeast part of the chamber, while to the southwest stood a desk and stuffed armchair. Stained-glass windows along the southwest wall depicted complex patterns of swirling reds, fiery oranges, and bright yellows. The bed appeared to have not been slept in for some time. “What now?” O’Reginald asked. “The throne room,” Kat said without hesitation. “The map shows it just down the hall. Let’s go!” As they turned and left, alien eyes watched them go. Sermignatto, known to some as the Lord of Bloody Quicksands, lurked nearby, but an infinite distance away. He lay hidden on the Ethereal plane, adjacent to reality, but so far removed as well. The bdellavritra fiend followed after the companions, moving easily through walls as if they were mist, sending out a silent call to his minions, summoning them to battle. _______________________________________________________ The magnificent throne room was lavishly decorated with frescoes, mosaics, and hanging tapestries of gilt crimson silk. Three colorful stained-glass panes on the windows presented scenes of past kings and queens. A huge fireplace stood in the east corner, its mantle shaped like an enormous stone tree that had spread its branches up to the ceiling. Against the southwest wall, on a low dais of granite, sat the Crimson Throne itself, an iron throne draped with deep red silks and velvety crimson cushions. Four Gray Maidens stood on the floor below the throne, and each held a length of thick iron links attached to spiked steel collars worn by four massive hounds, easily the size of war horses. The hounds had fur of deep umber, and their eyes glowed crimson. Flames licked from their jaws as their tongues lolled and acidic drool pooled around their clawed feet. Seated upon the throne was none other than Ileosa herself, the Crown of Fangs upon her brow. “Welcome, my friends,” the young queen smiled as the five companions entered her presence. “I thank you for seeking me out. I’ve been observing your progress over the past few months, and I’m grateful for the assistance you have provided the people of Korvosa.” In an instant, the smile vanished from her face and her demeanor turned icy. “Now, however, your services are no longer needed. If you leave Korvosa immediately, and never return, I will not see your execution as traitors to the Crown.” “It is you who have betrayed Korvosa, witch!” Katarina shouted. “And it is you who shall be leaving Korvosa and its people, one way or another!” As Kat’s words echoed through the throne room, Ratbone leapt into motion. The feral druid somersaulted over the hounds and Gray Maidens, landing in a crouch before the Crimson Throne. Before Ileosa could react, he reached forward with one clawed hand and snatched the Crown of Fangs from her head. As he turned and leapt away again, Katarina drew a scroll from her belt and quickly read the arcane words written there. With a roar like thunder, five tons of wood and stone appeared out of thin air above the Crimson Throne and crushed Ileosa beneath. Just like that, it was over…only her minions didn’t seem to know it. They learned better moments later when O’Reginald’s fireball roared through the deadfall, setting it ablaze and immolating one of the Gray Maidens. The warhounds ignored the flames completely, their abyssal blood rendering them immune, but they could not ignore Ratbone’s fangs, nor Serithtial’s bite. Three went down in a haze of blood and fur, then the druid and merc turned on the last one and the remaining Maidens. The fight was over before it had really had a chance to begin…or so they thought. _______________________________________________________ “Now!” Togomor commanded the squad of Gray Maidens who waited outside the throne room in the entry hall. The bloat mage had heard Sermignatto’s summons, and had been compelled to respond, despite his own self-loathing at being manipulated as if he were no more than a puppet on a string. The Maiden’s surged through the throne room doors as the seneschal quickly rendered himself invisible and followed behind. _______________________________________________________ Ratbone tore furiously at the deadfall. He had seen Ileosa…smelled her! He knew she had been there, yet he couldn’t sense her now. Surely she could not have died so easily. Then there was the matter of the Crown of Fangs. For an item reputed to be so Evil…it felt like nothing more than a cold iron trinket. His search was interrupted a moment later, however, when the doors at the far side of the throne room burst open and another dozen or more Gray Maidens rushed in. Ratbone turned, snarling, blood frenzy in his eyes. Suddenly, the air in front of him seemed to freeze solid as a searing polar blast of energy struck him from out of nowhere. He reeled, pierced by a pain he had never before experienced. Chilled to the marrow of his bones, he collapsed to his knees. O’Reginald turned towards the invading Maiden’s as well, and he saw where the polar ray had originated from, though he could not see the caster. He didn’t need to. He hurled a ball of fire and acid into the midst of the Gray Maiden’s, and when it exploded, it engulfed the area where he knew the unseen wizard to be. Then Herc drove into the midst of Ileosa’s guards, hacking and slashing with Serithtial, cutting down a half dozen of the badly burned women before they could recover from O’Reginald’s blast. Ratbone slowly felt the numbness seep from his limbs and he surged to his feet. He raised his muzzle to the air and sniffed. He closed his eyes and began making odd clicking sounds with his tongue. The vibrations they set off in the air around him bounced back to his hyperacute ears from the people and objects around him, and there, at the far side of the room, he sensed a presence he had not seen when his eyes were open. His eyes still closed, he leaped, and Togomor’s stench of blood nearly overwhelmed him as he closed on the bloat mage. Jaws gaping, he clamped his fangs down, but it felt as if he had bitten into raw granite. A moment later, the mage was gone. Togomor thanked whatever Powers still favored him that he had the foresight to cast the stoneskin spell upon himself before he’d entered the battle. Fortunately, the savage’s bite had done little actual damage, and he’d been able to teleport quickly away. Still invisible, he now stood on the far side of the room, directly behind the male and female wizards, and the archer. Quickly, he spoke a few arcane words, and instantaneously erected a wall of pure force across the throne room, separating the druid and his sword-wielding companion from the rest of their allies. Ratbone roared in impotent rage at the escape of his foe. He turned this way and that, slapping Gray Maidens aside like ragdolls as he searched for Togomor’s scent. Then…he had it! Behind O’Reginald and Kat! He bounded on all fours across the room, but halfway through, he slammed head first into an invisible wall. Howling and snarling, he clawed and bit at the barrier, but to no avail. “Now,” Togomor spoke, still unseen, “where were we? Ah yes…I was just about to kill you all!” He hurled a flashing barrage of arcane bolts at Katarina, and the sorceress reeled from the impact. As she fetched up against the force wall, she countered with her own magic, filling the air with glittering dust. It settled over the bloat mage, limning him in gold for all to see. A moment later, the wall behind her vanished as O’Reginald erased it from existence with a bolt of disintegrating power. Togomor shrieked as he saw Ratbone lunging towards him. He tried to fly to the ceiling, but the druid seized his leg. As Ratbone’s claws closed over his flesh, he felt a burning cold run through him. Looking down, he saw golden ice covering him from foot to mid-thigh, and rising rapidly. Within moments, his torso and arms were covered in the stuff. He couldn’t move…could barely breath. He drew his last shuttering breath as Ratbone’s jaws closed over his windpipe. ¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬ [/QUOTE]
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JollyDoc's Curse of the Crimson Throne: Updated 1/29/10
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