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JollyDoc's Shackled City: FINAL POST [Updated 11/2!!]
- Thread starter gfunk
- Start date
Istivilin Arc
I'm actually running my group through there. I've had to change some of the flavor stuff so I can run the adventures. We started with the last installment and if anyone survives the Malagoth then i'll send them on the second adventure to secure one of the border forts.
I just about killed everyone in the fight with Derakshan in his temple underground and they're resting before they head back to town to fight Malagoth. It's sure to be a fairly nasty fight. If anyone has run this and has any ideas to make sure it's as nasty as can be please drop me a line at wared 'at' cfbisd.edu I'd hate to short change my players with something like this.
I've really enjoyed the 3rd installment so far and the second one looks pretty well written too. My players are going to enjoy storming the castle! In fact i think i'm going to give it to them as a reward if they survive the Malagoth and if they are able to route the Giants. My guys have some cash lying around and I'd love to see them spend it on the fort instead of themselves for once!
Hope your party enjoys the Istivilin stuff as much as we have.
dolza
I'm actually running my group through there. I've had to change some of the flavor stuff so I can run the adventures. We started with the last installment and if anyone survives the Malagoth then i'll send them on the second adventure to secure one of the border forts.
I just about killed everyone in the fight with Derakshan in his temple underground and they're resting before they head back to town to fight Malagoth. It's sure to be a fairly nasty fight. If anyone has run this and has any ideas to make sure it's as nasty as can be please drop me a line at wared 'at' cfbisd.edu I'd hate to short change my players with something like this.
I've really enjoyed the 3rd installment so far and the second one looks pretty well written too. My players are going to enjoy storming the castle! In fact i think i'm going to give it to them as a reward if they survive the Malagoth and if they are able to route the Giants. My guys have some cash lying around and I'd love to see them spend it on the fort instead of themselves for once!
Hope your party enjoys the Istivilin stuff as much as we have.
dolza
Neverwinter Knight
First Post
The man's got a point there!gfunk said:
Hmmm...I'm worried. Did you really like Blade - Trinity?JollyDoc said:
Jucheissasa !JollyDoc said:
JollyDoc
Explorer
STRIKE ON SHATTERHORN
Jenya stared open-mouthed and horror-struck as the eruption continued, spewing smoke and ash thousands of feet in the air. Even here, over ten miles away from Cauldron, the sound was deafening, and the heat stifling. What had gone wrong? Where were the Bright Axes? All around her, the refugees from Cauldron stood stricken. Some covered their eyes, others mouthed silent prayers, while still more wailed and screamed. Their home had just been obliterated before their eyes. Did this mean that the Cagewrights had been successful? Would an army of demons be swooping down upon them at any moment? Some were already starting to panic, shouting that the end was near. Jenya knew she had to get control of the situation before she had a full rout on her hands.
At that moment Ruphus Laro came rushing up from the encampment. “My lady,” the young cleric said panting. “You must come to your tent quickly. There’s…something you need to see.” He nodded meaningfully in that direction, and Jenya understood that he didn’t want to speak openly. “I’ll come at once,” she said, “but you remain here. Gather others of the Order and try to restore calm to the civilians.” Ruphus rushed off to carry out his orders while Jenya quickly made her way to her pavilion.
As she pulled aside the tent flap and stepped inside, she was shocked speechless as what awaited her within. There stood the Bright Axes…or most of them, rather. She did not see Kiko or Gunther. “You…you’re alive!” she stammered. “Only just, lassie.” Rusty grumbled. “At least we can’t say the same for the Cagewrights.” “They’re dead?” Jenya said, still taken aback at the miraculous, sudden appearance of the heroes. “Then…what has happened?” Rusty sighed wearily, and seated himself heavily on a camp chair. “It’s a long story, lady. We found their lair, right where you said, and after no small effort, we found the Tree as well, but the Ritual was already underway. There was no way to stop it, except to destroy the Tree, but it seems that by doin’ that, we destroyed Cauldron as well. We managed to Teleport out of their just in the nick o’time…but we don’t know where Kiko and Gunther are. Last we saw’em, the monk had grabbed me boy and vanished into thin air.” Jenya bowed her head. “The loss of Cauldron is a great tragedy,” she said, “but an even greater one has been averted by your actions. Do not carry this upon your shoulders, my friends. The alternative would have resulted in incalculable death and destruction. Rest yourselves now, while I attend to the camp. I will also do what I can to discern the whereabouts of your missing friends.”
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“Dead!?” Rusty shouted. “What do you mean, dead? How? We saw’em escape!” “No, my friend,” Dalthon said. “We saw Kiko Dimension Door. The monk’s ability has a limited range. No doubt they appeared somewhere in the tunnels, still below the surface. Kiko couldn’t know the eruption would occur so quickly. He must have thought he would have time to make it out.” Jenya nodded in agreement. “Still, they are not beyond our reach, Rusty, as you well know. If it was not their appointed time, they may still be recalled from the Bright Lands. Is that your wish?” Rusty lowered his head in thought for a moment. “We’ll ask them,” he said finally. “If they want to return, they can tell us themselves.”
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Kiko sat up slowly, imagining a stiffness in his muscles that was not there. In fact, they were not even his muscles, technically. His body had been destroyed beneath Cauldron, along with all his possessions. The spell Jenya had used to return his soul from Ilmater’s court had created a new body for him out of nothingness. It was a difficult concept to grasp, but he was still thankful to be alive once more. Gunther apparently felt the same. He was currently being roughly embraced by Rusty, an uncharacteristic display of emotion by the old dwarf. Then, in true form, the elder priest cuffed the younger one across the jaw. “That’s fer bein’ stupid, and rushin’ in where ye had no business stickin yer big nose!” Rusty bellowed. “Maybe next time, ye’ll think afore ye run off half-cocked.” The priest abruptly turned and stomped out of the tent. “I missed you too,” Gunther said smiling after his mentor.
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“Leaving!?” Jenya said, shocked. “How can you leave? Where will you go?” “Our work here is done, Jenya.” Grimm said stiffly, but not unkindly. “The threat of the Cagewrights is ended, and the people of Cauldron are safe. Dalthon is going to accompany you to Red Gorge. As for the rest, most of us, with the exception of Houshang, are going to the capitol, Alaghon, for now. From there, who knows? There always seems to be another adventure, or wrong to be righted waiting just around the corner. Our paths may cross again in time.” Jenya turned away, hiding her red-rimmed eyes with her hand. “I understand,” she said quietly. “You are owed a debt by me, and by many, many others, that can never be repaid. You will be missed, my dear, dear friends.”
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Rusty and Gunther sat in a quiet corner of the Swaggering Bugbear at their accustomed table. In recent weeks, the two dwarves had become regular fixtures at the tavern, which was located in the merchant’s quarter of Alaghon. It was a bustling establishment, with many travelers from across Faerun passing thru at any given time. A wonderful place to gather information and rumors of the outside world. The pair had started frequenting the bar as a relief for their boredom. Due to the large amounts of wealth they had accumulated during their adventures, they had no need to seek out gainful employment. They regularly offered their services to the local churches, but they were rarely called upon. Instead they came here to hear tales and regale patrons with ones of their own. With time, however, even that endeavor was getting old, and that is saying something, as dwarves are notorious for expounding on their great deeds. So this was to be their last night. In the morning they were leaving Alaghon, and indeed Turmish altogether, to return home to their clan. They had already said goodbye to most of their companions. Grimm was actually employed by the Bugbear as a bouncer, but he too seemed only to be biding his time. Tilly and Maple had rented out a shop in the quarter, intending to go into the locksmithing business. There were even rumors of possible nuptial on the horizon. Kiko had taken up full time residence at the church of Torm, completely immersing himself in service to the Triad as they ministered to the city’s poor. As for Ike, he planned on traveling with the dwarves. He longed for mountains again himself, for in his mind, where there were mountains, there were sure to be giants.
“Well, me lad,” Rusty said, raising his flagon, “here’s to the Bright Axes. Long may the bards sing their praises.” “Here, here,” Gunther said somberly, clinking his own mug to his mentor’s. Suddenly, Rusty’s pint crashed to the table, spilling its contents onto the floor before rolling off to join them. Several of the patrons turned to look for the source of the commotion and saw Rusty with his hands pressed tightly to the sides of his head. Smiling at the old dwarf’s inability to hold his ale, they turned back to their own concerns. “Rusty!” Gunther said urgently, “What is it?” But the priest didn’t hear him. Instead, he listened to the familiar voice speaking in his head…Jenya! “Cagewright’s still live,” the Sending began. “Have retreated to Shatterhorn. Bright Axes needed to stop them before cycle begins again. Contact others soonest. Time of essence!”
Slowly, Rusty looked up at his protégée. “Looks like our trip’s been delayed, boy. Don’t ye worry none, though. We won’t be lacking for excitement. Go round up the rest of the lads, but I’d not let Maple see ye fetchin’ Tilly if ye know what’s good fer ye.”
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Dalthon stood in the empty common room of the Bugbear, surrounded by those he’d thought not to see again for a long, long time. “While I admit that I’ve missed you lot,” the sorcerer said with a smile, “this wasn’t exactly the reunion I’d envisioned.” Grimm nodded, “That makes two of us, though I can’t say I’m disappointed. Busting the heads of rowdy drunkards was getting monotonous. Give me a fire giant or a beholder any day. So, do you know where we’re going?” “Shatterhorn,” Dalthon replied. “Join hands everyone, click your heels twice and repeat after me…there’s no place like home!”
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Shatterhorn…a two-hundred foot high spire of solid rock. Four-hundred years ago, a yuan-ti prophet named Ssythar Vassha claimed the pinnacle was a divine oracle…an instrument for communing with the yuan-ti god Merrshaulk. He and his followers raised a keep around the spire, and used it as a base for their raids. One stormy night, an incredible bolt of lightning split Shatterhorn into three, cracking it open from peak to base. At first, the yuan-ti took the event as an ill omen, but when no trace of Ssythar Vassha could be found, his followers assumed that Merrshaulk had rewarded the visionary yuan-ti by taking Vassha into his eternal embrace. The cultists built a secret temple beneath Shatterhorn, in honor of their “prophet ascendant.” Other yuan-ti prophets rose to take Vassha’s place and lead the cult, but it soon became clear that Shatterhorn had lost its alleged power to commune with Merrshaulk. The cult’s fortunes turned, and they were eventually driven off and exterminated by their enemies. Since that time, the temple beneath Shatterhorn has stood empty…until now.
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The Bright Axes stood on a high ridge overlooking a rough clearing. At its center stood the tri-sectioned spire of Shatterhorn, dwarfing the surrounding trees. Around the base of the clefts were the ruins of an ancient keep. Many of the walls had collapsed, and a thick shroud of fog enveloped the structure. The lone, shrill cry of a baboon echoed in the desolation of the dreary place.
“What do ye think?” Rusty asked Grimm, as he gazed out over the eerie landscape. “Well,” the big half-ogre rumbled, “I hate to use a cliché but it seems quiet…too quiet.” “As usual,” Rusty snorted. “I suppose a bit’o scout work is called for. Tilly, Kiko…yer elected. Front and center.” “My, my,” Tilly said, elbowing Kiko in the ribs with a knowing wink, “someone’s gotten awful full of himself during his retirement, hasn’t he?” Kiko merely smiled noncommittally, and shrugged, “Nevertheless, his assessment is correct. We need more information before we go barging in, and you and I are the logical choices.” “Sheesh,” Tilly groaned, rolling his eyes, “you sure do know how to suck all the humor out of a joke.”
Before long, the monk and rogue were making their way silently, and unseen down into the valley. Or so they thought. From within the misty ruins, two ancient creatures watched the stealthy approach of the intruders with more than just passing curiosity. There was a hunger in their observance, and a deep seated hatred of the radiant life-force that illuminated the interlopers like a beacon. Making not a sound, and completely invisible, the watchers slipped further into the crumbling keep to warn their erstwhile allies.
Once they were within a few dozen yards of the keep’s walls, Kiko and Tilly separated, each darting through the fog furtively, then hunkering down near opposite walls. One could barely make out the other thru the shifting haze, and Kiko was just raising his arm to signal his friend to advance, when he saw something emerge out of the mist directly behind the unsuspecting halfling. It appeared to be a glowing ball of light, and it moved in complete silence, until it was mere inches from Tilly. Then it began to emit an electrical hum, and a bolt of blue energy shot out of it, striking the rogue, setting him jittering and shaking, his hair standing on end. At that moment, another hum began right at Kiko’s ear. The monk spun around in a blur, but it was too late. The second will-o-the-wisp blasted him just as effectively as its mate had Tilly.
Tilly’s violent seizure finally passed, but rather than waste time catching his breath and regaining his composure, the wily rogue immediately went on the offensive. He knew that seconds counted, and his life might very well be forfeit if he didn’t act immediately. Drawing his sword, he leaped towards the wisp, not knowing if his weapon could even harm what seemed like nothing more than floating torchlight. His blade passed thru the glowing ball, and yet he felt resistance. The wisp pulsed with a reddish glow, then emitted a second energy blast before moving several yards away.
Kiko didn’t have time to recover from his own nervous system malfunction before the second wisp zapped him again. Then it too retreated a short distance away, and stopped, seeming to enjoy watching the monk writhe in agony. Suddenly, from out of the depths of the ruins came the echoing blare of a hunting horn, followed immediately by a cacophony of hoots and howls as a host of baboons appeared on the walls. The black eyes of the apes watched the plight of the bipeds below them as if cheering on a gladiatorial competition. Then just as abruptly, they quieted, settling back on their haunches. From out of the silence came a steady, buzzing sound. Several large shapes began coalescing out of the fog above the walls of the ruins, finally taking the shape of large, bloated, winged insects, somewhat arachnoid in their appearance. Mounted on their backs were breastplate-armored half-orcs, composite longbows gripped in their hands.
Immediately, the spider-eater mounted marauders opened fire. Kiko spun as the first arrow whistled towards him, swatting the missile out of the air an inch from his face. With a hastily spoken command word, the monk’s boots sprouted small, feathered wings, lifting him into the air towards the nearest archer. Like a shot, the will-o-the-wisp was on him, streaking thru the air like lightning. Another electrical jolt from its glowing body wracked Kiko, but he thought he must be growing accustomed to the pain. The after-shock seemed to pass more quickly this time. As he ascended, he flung out his leg in a stiff kick, feeling it connect solidly with the seemingly amorphous ball of light.
The remaining Bright Axes heard the horn blasts and the cries of battle, but the pea-soup mist blocked their view of what was actually occurring. As one, they surged forward into the fog, closing the distance to the ruined keep. At one point, Gunther briefly glimpsed one of the spider-eaters and its rider as it lifted briefly above the fog. With practiced speed and efficiency, the theurge lobbed an explosive ball of fire towards his target. As the spell ignited, both mount and rider were sent careening back into the mist.
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Ghath made his way quickly through the ruins towards the sounds of battle. Stealth be damned, he thought as he lumbered between the crumbling interior walls. The hill giant had been expecting an attack. Ever since the new Cagewrights had arrived and warned him and his Grayhaunt Marauders that they had probably been followed, he had drilled his men every day in preparation for this assault. Now the big barbarian was itching for a fight. Reaching into his belt pouch, he drew out a stoppered flask that would have been the size of a vase to an ordinary man, but was tiny in his ham-sized fist. Quickly quaffing the liquid inside, he felt his body become abruptly lighter. Bending his knees, he leaped into the air, taking flight towards the melee.
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Grimm charged. Two more spider-eater mounted half-orcs had arrived on the scene, and one now dipped towards Tilly, lining up for a back shot. Unfortunately for the marauder, its attack brought it just within range of the half-ogre’s reach. Grimm had fought cavalry troops many times in the past, and the one thing he’d learned was that without their mounts, they were mostly ineffective. His chain whip-cracked to the end of its length, splitting open the spider-eater’s bloated abdomen. With a shriek, the insect tumbled to the ground, spilling its rider in a heap beside it. As the half-orc struggled to rise, Grimm was on him, wrapping his chain around the marauder’s neck, and snapping it like a twig.
The second wisp was circling Tilly cautiously. It had been stung once by the wily halfling, and did not intend to be hit a second time. Tilly had other plans. He had managed to maneuver the creature between himself and Grimm, limiting its escape route. Now he leaped in, suffering a scorching blast to his leg as he came, but the wisp could not retreat, and the rogue buried his sword deep into its body, such as it was. The wisp flared red, and then vanished from sight.
As one of the mounted marauders strafed past, Gunther loosed a searing blast of ambient light. The spear of energy impaled the spider-eater, blowing a fist-sized hole completely through it. The bug dropped like a stone.
Dalthon silently applauded Gunther’s victory, but he saw that the spider-eater’s rider was still alive, slowly climbing to his feet. Furthermore, a pair of huge wolves had just emerged from the ruins, and were making a bee-line right for the dwarf, jaws snapping and slavering. In an eye-blink, the sorcerer loosed his own Fireball, engulfing the half-orc as well as the wolves. When the blast had cleared, the marauder was a smoldering pile of ash, but the dire wolves were still coming.
Before the battle, Dalthon had had the foresight to place a Fly spell upon Ike. The Goliath silently reminded himself to thank the sorcerer after the battle as he streaked towards the fray, a tribal war cry on his lips. Like a thunderclap, he struck the third spider-eater, his hammer crushing its head into a pulp. Its marauder rider plummeted, hitting the ground with a sickening thud.
Kiko kept a respectful distance from the wisp. Given a moment’s respite, he could heal some of the wounds that had been dealt to him, but every time he thought about it, the creature would dart in, forcing him back on the defensive. Now it hovered just out of reach, waiting. Kiko had just decided that he was going to take the fight to it and end the stand-off, when an enraged roar sounded from behind him. Whirling around, his eyes went wide as he saw the huge form of an armored hill giant streaking towards him, a mammoth great sword clenched in its meaty fists. The monk tried to tumble backwards, but the brute was too close. Its blade swept down in a crushing arc, slashing across Kiko’s abdomen. At the last possible moment, Kiko rolled, saving himself from being disemboweled, but still suffering a vicious, gaping cut.
The wolves closed on Dalthon and Gunther, blood in their eyes. The spell casters moved hastily backwards, but the animals were swifter. They leaped in unison, going for the throats of their prey, but just before they struck, a whistling spiked chain slashed the air in front of them, stopping them in mid-air. They tumbled to the ground, howling and snapping in fury, searching for the one who had thwarted their kill. Grimm stood impassive as a stone, waiting. As the dire wolves gathered themselves for another leap, two quick snaps from Grimm’s chain crushed each of their spines.
Tilly began moving towards Gunther and Dalthon, hoping the priest could tend some of his wounds before he reengaged, but as he did so, a blast of electricity erupted out of thin air in front of him. Abruptly, the wisp reappeared from its concealing invisibility, once more barring the halfling’s way.
Rusty watched the battle unfold with a critical eye, assessing which fronts were being pressed the most. Kiko was all alone, and flanked by the giant on one side, and the will-o-the-wisp on another. Slightly unfair odds. Muttering a prayer, the old priest send a blast of glittering diamond motes into the air. The spray engulfed Kiko, but passed harmlessly over him, its magic only affecting those with evil in their hearts. The hill giant roared in pain as the dust burned his flesh, and momentarily blinded him with its dazzling light. Kiko didn’t waste the opportunity. He leaped forward, extending his legs and locking his knees, driving both heels into the base of the giant’s throat.
Tilly tumbled to the side as the wisp came in for another strike. As he rolled to his feet, he found himself face-to-face with the unseated half-orc whose mount Ike had annihilated. The marauder scrabbled for the great axe slung across his back, but he never got his hands on it as Tilly drove both of his blades into his gut.
“Gunther!” Dalthon called to the younger dwarf. “We’ve got to take out those wisps! Follow my lead!” Gunther nodded his understanding as he deciphered the incantation Dalthon began. Simple, but effective, the Magic Missiles sped unerringly towards their target…the wisp harrying Kiko. An instant later, Gunther’s own volley struck. The wisp reeled from the double attack, giving Kiko a momentary breather. The respite, however, was short-lived. Ghath rubbed furiously at his eyes, trying to clear his vision at the same time his breath rasped through his partially crushed wind-pipe. Still in a blind fury, the barbarian ignored his pain, and charged the monk again. Again his blade struck true, cleaving into the human’s thigh, blood fountaining from what was surely a severed artery.
Ike heard Dalthon’s warning, and though he physically itched with the desire to go after the hill giant, he knew he had to help his comrades first. Putting himself into a dive, he sped towards Tilly and the wisp hot on his tail. The creature stopped on a copper in its pursuit of Tilly, angling ninety degrees towards the approaching goliath, and blasting the big warrior in mid flight. Ike barely felt it. He dropped his shoulder, bowling into the wisp and sending it tumbling back. As he gained room to maneuver, Ike followed through, connecting solidly with his hammer.
Ghath saw that his opponent was almost done in, but his attention was abruptly drawn to the repeated volleys of magic being hurled by the human and dwarf below him. Though he didn’t care a whit for the lives of the wisps, he knew that once the wizards had dispatched his allies, they would turn their spells on him. Abruptly abandoning his attack on Kiko, Ghath dove towards the ground, landing right behind Dalthon. The sorcerer gasped in horror as he realized what was happening, but before he could react, the hill giant’s massive sword cleaved down, and Dalthon felt the air being driven from his lungs as the blade bit into his shoulder.
Grimm smiled. This was the opportunity he’d been waiting for. The giant had come right to him. “Hey ugly,” the big warrior said, getting Ghath’s attention. “Why don’t you pick on someone your own size?” As Ghath turned, Grimm struck.
Ike continued to stalk towards the wisp, every ounce of his will going into preventing himself from rushing head-on at the now grounded hill giant. The wisp’s glow had become decidedly more dull, and it pulsed more rapidly, almost as if panting. Abruptly, Tilly appeared out of the mist behind it, driving his short sword into it from behind. A high-pitched wail escaped the creature, and once more, it vanished.
Kiko gasped at the pain suffusing him now. From deep reserves, he summoned his ki, staunching the flow of blood from his leg, and calming his racing heart. Nearby, the second wisp pulsed red and fast, the repeated barrages from Dalthon and Gunther taking their tolls. Ignoring his own distress, Kiko struck, hammering his fists down upon the creature in a flurry of hammer strikes and knife-hand chops.
“You’re on your own, boy!” Ike all-but-crowed as the wisp vanished. Gripping his hammer, he pushed his feet off the ground, and rocketed towards Ghath, murder in his eyes. Out of the corner of his eye, Ghath saw Ike’s approach. Whipping his sword across his body and over his head, the hill giant slammed it heavily across Ike’s back when he moved within range. Ike laughed. “Is that all you’ve got? My turn!” Screaming a litany of goliath curses, Ike swung his hammer like it was feather-light. Once, twice the maul struck Ghath, driving the air out of him in a huff. The rage was still upon the barbarian, however, and pain was a distant thing. Even as blood poured from his mouth and nostrils, he stepped toe-to-toe with the goliath, matching him blow for blow. At that moment, Grimm stepped in, moving to Ghath’s flank, and delivering a brutal barrage of withering blows. “Back off, ogre!” Ike roared. “He’s mine!” The goliath then dropped the head of his hammer all the way to the ground behind him. Then, swinging the weapon over his head with a sound like a small tornado, he smashed it directly down on the top of Ghath’s skull…and kept going. By the time his momentum ceased, the head of the maul was half-way down the hill giant’s chest. With one last, staggering step, the barbarian collapsed.
The wisp struggled to free itself from Kiko’s assault, but the monk was like a cobra striking. In time, he beat the creature all the way down to ground level, where it hovered stunned and shivering. With one final blow, the wisp slowly faded from view, a high-pitched keen signaling the end of its long life.
Above the melee, one Grayhaunt Marauder remained. He watches as first his comrades, and then his leader died. He knew he could save his own life by fleeing, but what would be the point? Where would he go where the Cagewrights could not find him? No, better to die here, and hopefully earn a place of honor among Gruumsh’s shock troops, than a coward’s death on the run. He moved into position, lined up his shot, and loosed two arrows, both flying true and burying themselves into the back of the sorcerer beneath him.
Dalthon groaned as the arrows pierced him. Already gravely wounded by the hill giant’s blow, he was barely able to stay on his feet. Pointing one hand weakly, he sent one final blast of Magic Missiles towards the spider-eater. The insect bobbed lower as the blast struck, bringing it within range of Grimm’s chain. The half-ogre struck, bringing the creature down, and spilling its rider to the ground. Not bothering to beg for quarter, the half-orc rolled to his feet, raising his bow towards Grimm. The half-ogre struck simultaneously with Ike, and the marauder got his dying wish.
Grimm scanned the battle field quickly, looking for more foes. With his enhanced vision, he saw the last will-o-the-wisp flying invisibly towards the jungle’s edge. Without a word, he charged, closing the distance between himself and the fleeing creature quickly. The wisp saw the warrior approaching, and saw its own death written in his gaze. It had been alive for many, many centuries, and was not prepared to depart this world just yet. It had been here before the Cagewrights, and it was determined that it would be here long after. Willing itself back into plain sight, it spoke. “Halt, and spare my life,” it said in a breezy, buzzing voice, “and I will assist you in finding those you seek.” Grimm slowed his charge, approaching cautiously, but not lowering his weapon. “What do you know of whom we seek?” he asked warily. “You seek the ones who call themselves Cagewrights,” the wisp replied. “I know this because they said you would come. They warned the giant and his minions of this. I can tell you how to find them.” “Speak then, and speak swiftly and truly,” Grimm said, “or I will end your life without a second thought.”
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Nag watched from his place of concealment as those-who-walked passed thru the illusory wall screening the stairs to the lower levels. They must have defeated the guardians and the watchers. His master must be warned. Quiet, and unseen, the snake slithered down the stairwell to the dungeons below.
Jenya stared open-mouthed and horror-struck as the eruption continued, spewing smoke and ash thousands of feet in the air. Even here, over ten miles away from Cauldron, the sound was deafening, and the heat stifling. What had gone wrong? Where were the Bright Axes? All around her, the refugees from Cauldron stood stricken. Some covered their eyes, others mouthed silent prayers, while still more wailed and screamed. Their home had just been obliterated before their eyes. Did this mean that the Cagewrights had been successful? Would an army of demons be swooping down upon them at any moment? Some were already starting to panic, shouting that the end was near. Jenya knew she had to get control of the situation before she had a full rout on her hands.
At that moment Ruphus Laro came rushing up from the encampment. “My lady,” the young cleric said panting. “You must come to your tent quickly. There’s…something you need to see.” He nodded meaningfully in that direction, and Jenya understood that he didn’t want to speak openly. “I’ll come at once,” she said, “but you remain here. Gather others of the Order and try to restore calm to the civilians.” Ruphus rushed off to carry out his orders while Jenya quickly made her way to her pavilion.
As she pulled aside the tent flap and stepped inside, she was shocked speechless as what awaited her within. There stood the Bright Axes…or most of them, rather. She did not see Kiko or Gunther. “You…you’re alive!” she stammered. “Only just, lassie.” Rusty grumbled. “At least we can’t say the same for the Cagewrights.” “They’re dead?” Jenya said, still taken aback at the miraculous, sudden appearance of the heroes. “Then…what has happened?” Rusty sighed wearily, and seated himself heavily on a camp chair. “It’s a long story, lady. We found their lair, right where you said, and after no small effort, we found the Tree as well, but the Ritual was already underway. There was no way to stop it, except to destroy the Tree, but it seems that by doin’ that, we destroyed Cauldron as well. We managed to Teleport out of their just in the nick o’time…but we don’t know where Kiko and Gunther are. Last we saw’em, the monk had grabbed me boy and vanished into thin air.” Jenya bowed her head. “The loss of Cauldron is a great tragedy,” she said, “but an even greater one has been averted by your actions. Do not carry this upon your shoulders, my friends. The alternative would have resulted in incalculable death and destruction. Rest yourselves now, while I attend to the camp. I will also do what I can to discern the whereabouts of your missing friends.”
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“Dead!?” Rusty shouted. “What do you mean, dead? How? We saw’em escape!” “No, my friend,” Dalthon said. “We saw Kiko Dimension Door. The monk’s ability has a limited range. No doubt they appeared somewhere in the tunnels, still below the surface. Kiko couldn’t know the eruption would occur so quickly. He must have thought he would have time to make it out.” Jenya nodded in agreement. “Still, they are not beyond our reach, Rusty, as you well know. If it was not their appointed time, they may still be recalled from the Bright Lands. Is that your wish?” Rusty lowered his head in thought for a moment. “We’ll ask them,” he said finally. “If they want to return, they can tell us themselves.”
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Kiko sat up slowly, imagining a stiffness in his muscles that was not there. In fact, they were not even his muscles, technically. His body had been destroyed beneath Cauldron, along with all his possessions. The spell Jenya had used to return his soul from Ilmater’s court had created a new body for him out of nothingness. It was a difficult concept to grasp, but he was still thankful to be alive once more. Gunther apparently felt the same. He was currently being roughly embraced by Rusty, an uncharacteristic display of emotion by the old dwarf. Then, in true form, the elder priest cuffed the younger one across the jaw. “That’s fer bein’ stupid, and rushin’ in where ye had no business stickin yer big nose!” Rusty bellowed. “Maybe next time, ye’ll think afore ye run off half-cocked.” The priest abruptly turned and stomped out of the tent. “I missed you too,” Gunther said smiling after his mentor.
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“Leaving!?” Jenya said, shocked. “How can you leave? Where will you go?” “Our work here is done, Jenya.” Grimm said stiffly, but not unkindly. “The threat of the Cagewrights is ended, and the people of Cauldron are safe. Dalthon is going to accompany you to Red Gorge. As for the rest, most of us, with the exception of Houshang, are going to the capitol, Alaghon, for now. From there, who knows? There always seems to be another adventure, or wrong to be righted waiting just around the corner. Our paths may cross again in time.” Jenya turned away, hiding her red-rimmed eyes with her hand. “I understand,” she said quietly. “You are owed a debt by me, and by many, many others, that can never be repaid. You will be missed, my dear, dear friends.”
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Rusty and Gunther sat in a quiet corner of the Swaggering Bugbear at their accustomed table. In recent weeks, the two dwarves had become regular fixtures at the tavern, which was located in the merchant’s quarter of Alaghon. It was a bustling establishment, with many travelers from across Faerun passing thru at any given time. A wonderful place to gather information and rumors of the outside world. The pair had started frequenting the bar as a relief for their boredom. Due to the large amounts of wealth they had accumulated during their adventures, they had no need to seek out gainful employment. They regularly offered their services to the local churches, but they were rarely called upon. Instead they came here to hear tales and regale patrons with ones of their own. With time, however, even that endeavor was getting old, and that is saying something, as dwarves are notorious for expounding on their great deeds. So this was to be their last night. In the morning they were leaving Alaghon, and indeed Turmish altogether, to return home to their clan. They had already said goodbye to most of their companions. Grimm was actually employed by the Bugbear as a bouncer, but he too seemed only to be biding his time. Tilly and Maple had rented out a shop in the quarter, intending to go into the locksmithing business. There were even rumors of possible nuptial on the horizon. Kiko had taken up full time residence at the church of Torm, completely immersing himself in service to the Triad as they ministered to the city’s poor. As for Ike, he planned on traveling with the dwarves. He longed for mountains again himself, for in his mind, where there were mountains, there were sure to be giants.
“Well, me lad,” Rusty said, raising his flagon, “here’s to the Bright Axes. Long may the bards sing their praises.” “Here, here,” Gunther said somberly, clinking his own mug to his mentor’s. Suddenly, Rusty’s pint crashed to the table, spilling its contents onto the floor before rolling off to join them. Several of the patrons turned to look for the source of the commotion and saw Rusty with his hands pressed tightly to the sides of his head. Smiling at the old dwarf’s inability to hold his ale, they turned back to their own concerns. “Rusty!” Gunther said urgently, “What is it?” But the priest didn’t hear him. Instead, he listened to the familiar voice speaking in his head…Jenya! “Cagewright’s still live,” the Sending began. “Have retreated to Shatterhorn. Bright Axes needed to stop them before cycle begins again. Contact others soonest. Time of essence!”
Slowly, Rusty looked up at his protégée. “Looks like our trip’s been delayed, boy. Don’t ye worry none, though. We won’t be lacking for excitement. Go round up the rest of the lads, but I’d not let Maple see ye fetchin’ Tilly if ye know what’s good fer ye.”
___________________________________________________________
Dalthon stood in the empty common room of the Bugbear, surrounded by those he’d thought not to see again for a long, long time. “While I admit that I’ve missed you lot,” the sorcerer said with a smile, “this wasn’t exactly the reunion I’d envisioned.” Grimm nodded, “That makes two of us, though I can’t say I’m disappointed. Busting the heads of rowdy drunkards was getting monotonous. Give me a fire giant or a beholder any day. So, do you know where we’re going?” “Shatterhorn,” Dalthon replied. “Join hands everyone, click your heels twice and repeat after me…there’s no place like home!”
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Shatterhorn…a two-hundred foot high spire of solid rock. Four-hundred years ago, a yuan-ti prophet named Ssythar Vassha claimed the pinnacle was a divine oracle…an instrument for communing with the yuan-ti god Merrshaulk. He and his followers raised a keep around the spire, and used it as a base for their raids. One stormy night, an incredible bolt of lightning split Shatterhorn into three, cracking it open from peak to base. At first, the yuan-ti took the event as an ill omen, but when no trace of Ssythar Vassha could be found, his followers assumed that Merrshaulk had rewarded the visionary yuan-ti by taking Vassha into his eternal embrace. The cultists built a secret temple beneath Shatterhorn, in honor of their “prophet ascendant.” Other yuan-ti prophets rose to take Vassha’s place and lead the cult, but it soon became clear that Shatterhorn had lost its alleged power to commune with Merrshaulk. The cult’s fortunes turned, and they were eventually driven off and exterminated by their enemies. Since that time, the temple beneath Shatterhorn has stood empty…until now.
_______________________________________________________
The Bright Axes stood on a high ridge overlooking a rough clearing. At its center stood the tri-sectioned spire of Shatterhorn, dwarfing the surrounding trees. Around the base of the clefts were the ruins of an ancient keep. Many of the walls had collapsed, and a thick shroud of fog enveloped the structure. The lone, shrill cry of a baboon echoed in the desolation of the dreary place.
“What do ye think?” Rusty asked Grimm, as he gazed out over the eerie landscape. “Well,” the big half-ogre rumbled, “I hate to use a cliché but it seems quiet…too quiet.” “As usual,” Rusty snorted. “I suppose a bit’o scout work is called for. Tilly, Kiko…yer elected. Front and center.” “My, my,” Tilly said, elbowing Kiko in the ribs with a knowing wink, “someone’s gotten awful full of himself during his retirement, hasn’t he?” Kiko merely smiled noncommittally, and shrugged, “Nevertheless, his assessment is correct. We need more information before we go barging in, and you and I are the logical choices.” “Sheesh,” Tilly groaned, rolling his eyes, “you sure do know how to suck all the humor out of a joke.”
Before long, the monk and rogue were making their way silently, and unseen down into the valley. Or so they thought. From within the misty ruins, two ancient creatures watched the stealthy approach of the intruders with more than just passing curiosity. There was a hunger in their observance, and a deep seated hatred of the radiant life-force that illuminated the interlopers like a beacon. Making not a sound, and completely invisible, the watchers slipped further into the crumbling keep to warn their erstwhile allies.
Once they were within a few dozen yards of the keep’s walls, Kiko and Tilly separated, each darting through the fog furtively, then hunkering down near opposite walls. One could barely make out the other thru the shifting haze, and Kiko was just raising his arm to signal his friend to advance, when he saw something emerge out of the mist directly behind the unsuspecting halfling. It appeared to be a glowing ball of light, and it moved in complete silence, until it was mere inches from Tilly. Then it began to emit an electrical hum, and a bolt of blue energy shot out of it, striking the rogue, setting him jittering and shaking, his hair standing on end. At that moment, another hum began right at Kiko’s ear. The monk spun around in a blur, but it was too late. The second will-o-the-wisp blasted him just as effectively as its mate had Tilly.
Tilly’s violent seizure finally passed, but rather than waste time catching his breath and regaining his composure, the wily rogue immediately went on the offensive. He knew that seconds counted, and his life might very well be forfeit if he didn’t act immediately. Drawing his sword, he leaped towards the wisp, not knowing if his weapon could even harm what seemed like nothing more than floating torchlight. His blade passed thru the glowing ball, and yet he felt resistance. The wisp pulsed with a reddish glow, then emitted a second energy blast before moving several yards away.
Kiko didn’t have time to recover from his own nervous system malfunction before the second wisp zapped him again. Then it too retreated a short distance away, and stopped, seeming to enjoy watching the monk writhe in agony. Suddenly, from out of the depths of the ruins came the echoing blare of a hunting horn, followed immediately by a cacophony of hoots and howls as a host of baboons appeared on the walls. The black eyes of the apes watched the plight of the bipeds below them as if cheering on a gladiatorial competition. Then just as abruptly, they quieted, settling back on their haunches. From out of the silence came a steady, buzzing sound. Several large shapes began coalescing out of the fog above the walls of the ruins, finally taking the shape of large, bloated, winged insects, somewhat arachnoid in their appearance. Mounted on their backs were breastplate-armored half-orcs, composite longbows gripped in their hands.
Immediately, the spider-eater mounted marauders opened fire. Kiko spun as the first arrow whistled towards him, swatting the missile out of the air an inch from his face. With a hastily spoken command word, the monk’s boots sprouted small, feathered wings, lifting him into the air towards the nearest archer. Like a shot, the will-o-the-wisp was on him, streaking thru the air like lightning. Another electrical jolt from its glowing body wracked Kiko, but he thought he must be growing accustomed to the pain. The after-shock seemed to pass more quickly this time. As he ascended, he flung out his leg in a stiff kick, feeling it connect solidly with the seemingly amorphous ball of light.
The remaining Bright Axes heard the horn blasts and the cries of battle, but the pea-soup mist blocked their view of what was actually occurring. As one, they surged forward into the fog, closing the distance to the ruined keep. At one point, Gunther briefly glimpsed one of the spider-eaters and its rider as it lifted briefly above the fog. With practiced speed and efficiency, the theurge lobbed an explosive ball of fire towards his target. As the spell ignited, both mount and rider were sent careening back into the mist.
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Ghath made his way quickly through the ruins towards the sounds of battle. Stealth be damned, he thought as he lumbered between the crumbling interior walls. The hill giant had been expecting an attack. Ever since the new Cagewrights had arrived and warned him and his Grayhaunt Marauders that they had probably been followed, he had drilled his men every day in preparation for this assault. Now the big barbarian was itching for a fight. Reaching into his belt pouch, he drew out a stoppered flask that would have been the size of a vase to an ordinary man, but was tiny in his ham-sized fist. Quickly quaffing the liquid inside, he felt his body become abruptly lighter. Bending his knees, he leaped into the air, taking flight towards the melee.
_________________________________________________
Grimm charged. Two more spider-eater mounted half-orcs had arrived on the scene, and one now dipped towards Tilly, lining up for a back shot. Unfortunately for the marauder, its attack brought it just within range of the half-ogre’s reach. Grimm had fought cavalry troops many times in the past, and the one thing he’d learned was that without their mounts, they were mostly ineffective. His chain whip-cracked to the end of its length, splitting open the spider-eater’s bloated abdomen. With a shriek, the insect tumbled to the ground, spilling its rider in a heap beside it. As the half-orc struggled to rise, Grimm was on him, wrapping his chain around the marauder’s neck, and snapping it like a twig.
The second wisp was circling Tilly cautiously. It had been stung once by the wily halfling, and did not intend to be hit a second time. Tilly had other plans. He had managed to maneuver the creature between himself and Grimm, limiting its escape route. Now he leaped in, suffering a scorching blast to his leg as he came, but the wisp could not retreat, and the rogue buried his sword deep into its body, such as it was. The wisp flared red, and then vanished from sight.
As one of the mounted marauders strafed past, Gunther loosed a searing blast of ambient light. The spear of energy impaled the spider-eater, blowing a fist-sized hole completely through it. The bug dropped like a stone.
Dalthon silently applauded Gunther’s victory, but he saw that the spider-eater’s rider was still alive, slowly climbing to his feet. Furthermore, a pair of huge wolves had just emerged from the ruins, and were making a bee-line right for the dwarf, jaws snapping and slavering. In an eye-blink, the sorcerer loosed his own Fireball, engulfing the half-orc as well as the wolves. When the blast had cleared, the marauder was a smoldering pile of ash, but the dire wolves were still coming.
Before the battle, Dalthon had had the foresight to place a Fly spell upon Ike. The Goliath silently reminded himself to thank the sorcerer after the battle as he streaked towards the fray, a tribal war cry on his lips. Like a thunderclap, he struck the third spider-eater, his hammer crushing its head into a pulp. Its marauder rider plummeted, hitting the ground with a sickening thud.
Kiko kept a respectful distance from the wisp. Given a moment’s respite, he could heal some of the wounds that had been dealt to him, but every time he thought about it, the creature would dart in, forcing him back on the defensive. Now it hovered just out of reach, waiting. Kiko had just decided that he was going to take the fight to it and end the stand-off, when an enraged roar sounded from behind him. Whirling around, his eyes went wide as he saw the huge form of an armored hill giant streaking towards him, a mammoth great sword clenched in its meaty fists. The monk tried to tumble backwards, but the brute was too close. Its blade swept down in a crushing arc, slashing across Kiko’s abdomen. At the last possible moment, Kiko rolled, saving himself from being disemboweled, but still suffering a vicious, gaping cut.
The wolves closed on Dalthon and Gunther, blood in their eyes. The spell casters moved hastily backwards, but the animals were swifter. They leaped in unison, going for the throats of their prey, but just before they struck, a whistling spiked chain slashed the air in front of them, stopping them in mid-air. They tumbled to the ground, howling and snapping in fury, searching for the one who had thwarted their kill. Grimm stood impassive as a stone, waiting. As the dire wolves gathered themselves for another leap, two quick snaps from Grimm’s chain crushed each of their spines.
Tilly began moving towards Gunther and Dalthon, hoping the priest could tend some of his wounds before he reengaged, but as he did so, a blast of electricity erupted out of thin air in front of him. Abruptly, the wisp reappeared from its concealing invisibility, once more barring the halfling’s way.
Rusty watched the battle unfold with a critical eye, assessing which fronts were being pressed the most. Kiko was all alone, and flanked by the giant on one side, and the will-o-the-wisp on another. Slightly unfair odds. Muttering a prayer, the old priest send a blast of glittering diamond motes into the air. The spray engulfed Kiko, but passed harmlessly over him, its magic only affecting those with evil in their hearts. The hill giant roared in pain as the dust burned his flesh, and momentarily blinded him with its dazzling light. Kiko didn’t waste the opportunity. He leaped forward, extending his legs and locking his knees, driving both heels into the base of the giant’s throat.
Tilly tumbled to the side as the wisp came in for another strike. As he rolled to his feet, he found himself face-to-face with the unseated half-orc whose mount Ike had annihilated. The marauder scrabbled for the great axe slung across his back, but he never got his hands on it as Tilly drove both of his blades into his gut.
“Gunther!” Dalthon called to the younger dwarf. “We’ve got to take out those wisps! Follow my lead!” Gunther nodded his understanding as he deciphered the incantation Dalthon began. Simple, but effective, the Magic Missiles sped unerringly towards their target…the wisp harrying Kiko. An instant later, Gunther’s own volley struck. The wisp reeled from the double attack, giving Kiko a momentary breather. The respite, however, was short-lived. Ghath rubbed furiously at his eyes, trying to clear his vision at the same time his breath rasped through his partially crushed wind-pipe. Still in a blind fury, the barbarian ignored his pain, and charged the monk again. Again his blade struck true, cleaving into the human’s thigh, blood fountaining from what was surely a severed artery.
Ike heard Dalthon’s warning, and though he physically itched with the desire to go after the hill giant, he knew he had to help his comrades first. Putting himself into a dive, he sped towards Tilly and the wisp hot on his tail. The creature stopped on a copper in its pursuit of Tilly, angling ninety degrees towards the approaching goliath, and blasting the big warrior in mid flight. Ike barely felt it. He dropped his shoulder, bowling into the wisp and sending it tumbling back. As he gained room to maneuver, Ike followed through, connecting solidly with his hammer.
Ghath saw that his opponent was almost done in, but his attention was abruptly drawn to the repeated volleys of magic being hurled by the human and dwarf below him. Though he didn’t care a whit for the lives of the wisps, he knew that once the wizards had dispatched his allies, they would turn their spells on him. Abruptly abandoning his attack on Kiko, Ghath dove towards the ground, landing right behind Dalthon. The sorcerer gasped in horror as he realized what was happening, but before he could react, the hill giant’s massive sword cleaved down, and Dalthon felt the air being driven from his lungs as the blade bit into his shoulder.
Grimm smiled. This was the opportunity he’d been waiting for. The giant had come right to him. “Hey ugly,” the big warrior said, getting Ghath’s attention. “Why don’t you pick on someone your own size?” As Ghath turned, Grimm struck.
Ike continued to stalk towards the wisp, every ounce of his will going into preventing himself from rushing head-on at the now grounded hill giant. The wisp’s glow had become decidedly more dull, and it pulsed more rapidly, almost as if panting. Abruptly, Tilly appeared out of the mist behind it, driving his short sword into it from behind. A high-pitched wail escaped the creature, and once more, it vanished.
Kiko gasped at the pain suffusing him now. From deep reserves, he summoned his ki, staunching the flow of blood from his leg, and calming his racing heart. Nearby, the second wisp pulsed red and fast, the repeated barrages from Dalthon and Gunther taking their tolls. Ignoring his own distress, Kiko struck, hammering his fists down upon the creature in a flurry of hammer strikes and knife-hand chops.
“You’re on your own, boy!” Ike all-but-crowed as the wisp vanished. Gripping his hammer, he pushed his feet off the ground, and rocketed towards Ghath, murder in his eyes. Out of the corner of his eye, Ghath saw Ike’s approach. Whipping his sword across his body and over his head, the hill giant slammed it heavily across Ike’s back when he moved within range. Ike laughed. “Is that all you’ve got? My turn!” Screaming a litany of goliath curses, Ike swung his hammer like it was feather-light. Once, twice the maul struck Ghath, driving the air out of him in a huff. The rage was still upon the barbarian, however, and pain was a distant thing. Even as blood poured from his mouth and nostrils, he stepped toe-to-toe with the goliath, matching him blow for blow. At that moment, Grimm stepped in, moving to Ghath’s flank, and delivering a brutal barrage of withering blows. “Back off, ogre!” Ike roared. “He’s mine!” The goliath then dropped the head of his hammer all the way to the ground behind him. Then, swinging the weapon over his head with a sound like a small tornado, he smashed it directly down on the top of Ghath’s skull…and kept going. By the time his momentum ceased, the head of the maul was half-way down the hill giant’s chest. With one last, staggering step, the barbarian collapsed.
The wisp struggled to free itself from Kiko’s assault, but the monk was like a cobra striking. In time, he beat the creature all the way down to ground level, where it hovered stunned and shivering. With one final blow, the wisp slowly faded from view, a high-pitched keen signaling the end of its long life.
Above the melee, one Grayhaunt Marauder remained. He watches as first his comrades, and then his leader died. He knew he could save his own life by fleeing, but what would be the point? Where would he go where the Cagewrights could not find him? No, better to die here, and hopefully earn a place of honor among Gruumsh’s shock troops, than a coward’s death on the run. He moved into position, lined up his shot, and loosed two arrows, both flying true and burying themselves into the back of the sorcerer beneath him.
Dalthon groaned as the arrows pierced him. Already gravely wounded by the hill giant’s blow, he was barely able to stay on his feet. Pointing one hand weakly, he sent one final blast of Magic Missiles towards the spider-eater. The insect bobbed lower as the blast struck, bringing it within range of Grimm’s chain. The half-ogre struck, bringing the creature down, and spilling its rider to the ground. Not bothering to beg for quarter, the half-orc rolled to his feet, raising his bow towards Grimm. The half-ogre struck simultaneously with Ike, and the marauder got his dying wish.
Grimm scanned the battle field quickly, looking for more foes. With his enhanced vision, he saw the last will-o-the-wisp flying invisibly towards the jungle’s edge. Without a word, he charged, closing the distance between himself and the fleeing creature quickly. The wisp saw the warrior approaching, and saw its own death written in his gaze. It had been alive for many, many centuries, and was not prepared to depart this world just yet. It had been here before the Cagewrights, and it was determined that it would be here long after. Willing itself back into plain sight, it spoke. “Halt, and spare my life,” it said in a breezy, buzzing voice, “and I will assist you in finding those you seek.” Grimm slowed his charge, approaching cautiously, but not lowering his weapon. “What do you know of whom we seek?” he asked warily. “You seek the ones who call themselves Cagewrights,” the wisp replied. “I know this because they said you would come. They warned the giant and his minions of this. I can tell you how to find them.” “Speak then, and speak swiftly and truly,” Grimm said, “or I will end your life without a second thought.”
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Nag watched from his place of concealment as those-who-walked passed thru the illusory wall screening the stairs to the lower levels. They must have defeated the guardians and the watchers. His master must be warned. Quiet, and unseen, the snake slithered down the stairwell to the dungeons below.
Graywolf-ELM
Explorer
Allright. Bouncing back with some kick-butt combat.
GW
GW
Neverwinter Knight
First Post
Wow, I couldn't agree more. Also, I could not believe that those Willow-wisps could have caused the party so much trouble, so I looked them up: they were Ancient Willow-wisps with 212 hit points each!!!Graywolf-ELM said:
JollyDoc, did you upgrade their damage from 4d6 or did you just roll very well on your first attacks?
GREAT UPDATE! Gfunk, did you already start on Asylum?
JollyDoc
Explorer
Neverwinter Knight said:JollyDoc, did you upgrade their damage from 4d6 or did you just roll very well on your first attacks?
GREAT UPDATE! Gfunk, did you already start on Asylum?
Nope, didn't adjust damage, they just kept inflicting it, plus they had Spring Attack, so they would dart in, hit, and dart away, then go invis for awhile, and start over again. Frustrating for the party.
I estimate that I have three more updates to post before concluding Shatterhorn, and then Gfunk will be assuming the helm.
war wizard
First Post
Hey a fight where Dalthon didn't end up a greasy smear on the wall!!!!
great.
excellent update JD
great.
excellent update JD
R-Hero
Explorer
Whoo-Hoo!Great Update, once again. J.D.
SoS is were Ike really made something of himself in the No 2 Tank role. (Dice rolls went in the right way for a change. Hit almost everything he swung at with several crits, too)
)
SoS is were Ike really made something of himself in the No 2 Tank role. (Dice rolls went in the right way for a change. Hit almost everything he swung at with several crits, too)
I don't remember Ike ever snapping at Grimm. (I asked Ike about it and he looked embarrased, mumbling something about bloodlust
)
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JollyDoc
Explorer
R-Hero said:Whoo-Hoo!
I don't remember Ike ever snapping at Grimm. (I asked Ike about it and he looked embarrased, mumbling something about bloodlust
Ah, c'mon! You know Ike always wanted a piece of Grimm. After all, he was half-ogre...that makes him half-giant, right? In Ike's book, the legal definition of giant is all the way out to 1/32.
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