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Lazybones's Keep on the Shadowfell/Thunderspire Labyrinth
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<blockquote data-quote="Lazybones" data-source="post: 4539357" data-attributes="member: 143"><p>Chapter 48</p><p></p><p></p><p>They returned cautiously, alert for an ambush. Their enemies had not pursued them out of the dungeon, but they’d had almost a whole day to prepare a response against their return. Hobgoblins were wily, cunning foes, adept at group tactics and siegecraft, including the construction of fortified defenses. Both Mara and Jaron had fought them in the past, in the days of Dal Durga’s violent horde. </p><p></p><p>But the dungeon greeted them only with cold, musty darkness on their return. The torches in the entry chamber and the adjacent corridors had burned down, leaving the place mired in shadow beyond the radius of the shaft of morning light that drifted down the stairs from the ruin above. The bodies left from their last battle were gone, although dark streaks marked the floor as a memorial to their passing. Even the rat pit in the center of the room was strangely quiet, although a faint rustling could be heard now and again. </p><p></p><p>“Maybe they decided they’d had enough,” Jaron ventured. “Their operation was compromised; perhaps they abandoned the site.”</p><p></p><p>“No,” Devrem said. “The ritual continues, deeper within this place.” He did not elaborate on the source of his knowledge, and no one asked. They could all feel it, a vague pulsing on the edge of perception that caused the hairs on their arms to stand up. </p><p></p><p>Splug was still with them, still attached to his halter, currently in the custody of Elevaren. The goblin seemed subdued this morning, avoiding his usual comments and protests. Devrem drew out a small metal lamp from his pack, lit it and handed it to Splug. The flame cast a fitful glow that drove back the darkness as they moved away from the entrance, deeper into the complex. </p><p></p><p>They already knew which way to go, from their interrogation of their goblin prisoner. They moved to the south, toward the doors that the defeated goblins had fled toward in their last incursion here. A few beetles the size of gold pieces scattered out of their way as they moved into the anteroom to the south; one crunched loudly as Beetle jumped onto it, grinning as the others flinched at the sudden noise. The heavy wooden double doors were closed, but opened easily to Mara’s shoulder. Beyond them, a set of rough-hewn stairs descended into darkness. </p><p></p><p>They did not speak, and clumped together within the brightest core of the lamplight. The stairs culminated in a passage that split to the north and west, with each direction forking again after a short while. They turned to the right and then left, following Jaron, who was peering closely at the floor, looking for traces of recent passage. Dust and cobwebs clung to the walls and the angles where ceiling and wall, wall and floor met, but the center of the passage was more or less clear, suggesting at least occasional traffic through the area. </p><p></p><p>The passage continued straight for a good distance, then split again, offering side corridors to the left and right in addition to pressing on ahead. After a moment’s examination of the options Jaron indicated the right turn, but hesitated. </p><p></p><p>“What’s the matter?” Mara asked. In response, Jaron indicated a spot on the floor ahead. </p><p></p><p>They advanced warily. The spot that Jaron had indicated was a circle etched into the floor, with three runes carved into the stone within. The runes were each a good three feet across, and formed an interlocking pattern that joined together in the center, like three spokes of a wagon wheel. They were just simple carvings, gouged deep into smooth stone of the floor, but they seemed to glisten slightly in the light of Devrem’s lamp. </p><p></p><p>“What is this?” Mara asked. “Goblin?” she asked, but Splug merely shrugged and shrank back.</p><p></p><p>“Perhaps we can slip around it,” Elevaren suggested, but Devrem, who had knelt in front of the diagram to study it more closely, shook his head. Beetle started forward to get his own closer look, but Devrem shot out a hand, keeping him back. </p><p></p><p>“No,” he said. “No, the ward is set across the whole passage. It might be leapt, but any step in this area,” he said, indicating the entire length of the circle, “would be hazardous.”</p><p></p><p>“What does it do?” Mara asked. </p><p></p><p>“I do not know. There is magic bound here, and evil.” </p><p></p><p>“Beetle and I could probably jump it,” Jaron said to Devrem. “And Elevaren has his magic. But you and Mara…”</p><p></p><p>“Not in all this metal, at least,” the fighter conceded. “Maybe there’s another way around?”</p><p></p><p>That was too practical a suggestion to ignore, so they retraced their steps. But at each fork in the tunnel they ended up at another of the runic markings. Finally Devrem called a halt. </p><p></p><p>“All right, we don’t have time to linger further. I will trigger one of the runes, and call upon the power of the Goddess to protect me. Stay a good distance back; the ward may have an area effect.”</p><p></p><p>“This is crazy,” Mara said. “Maybe we should just…”</p><p></p><p>But Devrem simply turned and stepped into the circle. Mara and the others jumped back in surprise. </p><p></p><p>A scream pierced the air, echoing through the corridor. Each of them felt a cold chill pass through them at that unnatural cry, but they only felt an echo of the released magic, a discharge that hit Devrem fully. The priest swayed for a moment, a low moan escaping his lips as he clutched tightly to the bole of his staff for support. But then he seemed to draw strength from within himself, and straightened. He drove the staff down into the floor, the iron-shod end ringing on the stone, chipping into the floor at the point where the runes met. The sepulchral cry faded at once, and the unnatural gleam that reflected from the circle likewise dissolved, leaving the corridor again more or less as it had been. </p><p></p><p>The others came forward to rejoin the cleric. “You’ve got balls, I’ll grant you that, priest,” Mara said. “But maybe give us a bit more warning, next time.”</p><p></p><p>Beetle had stepped forward to examine the now-defunct ward more closely, but Jaron drew their attention with a raised hand. “Do you hear that?”</p><p></p><p>They all stopped moving. The sound that had alerted the Halfling was only barely audible, a soft groaning that drifted out of the darkness ahead. Then a noise only slightly louder, a gentle shuffling noise, sliding on stone. </p><p></p><p>“Shine the light!” Devrem commanded. Splug had retreated almost to the end of the rope held by Elevaren, but as the attention of the others turned to him he obeyed, thrusting the lamp before him toward the darkness. The shadows of the companions elongated down the passage as the illumination brightened, until they could see the next bend in the passage ahead. </p><p></p><p>A thing came around the bend. It looked almost like a man, at first glance, but even at the edges of the light, it was quickly evident that the creature was not alive. The rotting corpse staggered toward them, followed by another, and more, until it was a pack of zombies approaching. Their moans intensified as they caught sight of the companions, and their arms lifted, their claws clenching as if anticipating the rending of living flesh.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Lazybones, post: 4539357, member: 143"] Chapter 48 They returned cautiously, alert for an ambush. Their enemies had not pursued them out of the dungeon, but they’d had almost a whole day to prepare a response against their return. Hobgoblins were wily, cunning foes, adept at group tactics and siegecraft, including the construction of fortified defenses. Both Mara and Jaron had fought them in the past, in the days of Dal Durga’s violent horde. But the dungeon greeted them only with cold, musty darkness on their return. The torches in the entry chamber and the adjacent corridors had burned down, leaving the place mired in shadow beyond the radius of the shaft of morning light that drifted down the stairs from the ruin above. The bodies left from their last battle were gone, although dark streaks marked the floor as a memorial to their passing. Even the rat pit in the center of the room was strangely quiet, although a faint rustling could be heard now and again. “Maybe they decided they’d had enough,” Jaron ventured. “Their operation was compromised; perhaps they abandoned the site.” “No,” Devrem said. “The ritual continues, deeper within this place.” He did not elaborate on the source of his knowledge, and no one asked. They could all feel it, a vague pulsing on the edge of perception that caused the hairs on their arms to stand up. Splug was still with them, still attached to his halter, currently in the custody of Elevaren. The goblin seemed subdued this morning, avoiding his usual comments and protests. Devrem drew out a small metal lamp from his pack, lit it and handed it to Splug. The flame cast a fitful glow that drove back the darkness as they moved away from the entrance, deeper into the complex. They already knew which way to go, from their interrogation of their goblin prisoner. They moved to the south, toward the doors that the defeated goblins had fled toward in their last incursion here. A few beetles the size of gold pieces scattered out of their way as they moved into the anteroom to the south; one crunched loudly as Beetle jumped onto it, grinning as the others flinched at the sudden noise. The heavy wooden double doors were closed, but opened easily to Mara’s shoulder. Beyond them, a set of rough-hewn stairs descended into darkness. They did not speak, and clumped together within the brightest core of the lamplight. The stairs culminated in a passage that split to the north and west, with each direction forking again after a short while. They turned to the right and then left, following Jaron, who was peering closely at the floor, looking for traces of recent passage. Dust and cobwebs clung to the walls and the angles where ceiling and wall, wall and floor met, but the center of the passage was more or less clear, suggesting at least occasional traffic through the area. The passage continued straight for a good distance, then split again, offering side corridors to the left and right in addition to pressing on ahead. After a moment’s examination of the options Jaron indicated the right turn, but hesitated. “What’s the matter?” Mara asked. In response, Jaron indicated a spot on the floor ahead. They advanced warily. The spot that Jaron had indicated was a circle etched into the floor, with three runes carved into the stone within. The runes were each a good three feet across, and formed an interlocking pattern that joined together in the center, like three spokes of a wagon wheel. They were just simple carvings, gouged deep into smooth stone of the floor, but they seemed to glisten slightly in the light of Devrem’s lamp. “What is this?” Mara asked. “Goblin?” she asked, but Splug merely shrugged and shrank back. “Perhaps we can slip around it,” Elevaren suggested, but Devrem, who had knelt in front of the diagram to study it more closely, shook his head. Beetle started forward to get his own closer look, but Devrem shot out a hand, keeping him back. “No,” he said. “No, the ward is set across the whole passage. It might be leapt, but any step in this area,” he said, indicating the entire length of the circle, “would be hazardous.” “What does it do?” Mara asked. “I do not know. There is magic bound here, and evil.” “Beetle and I could probably jump it,” Jaron said to Devrem. “And Elevaren has his magic. But you and Mara…” “Not in all this metal, at least,” the fighter conceded. “Maybe there’s another way around?” That was too practical a suggestion to ignore, so they retraced their steps. But at each fork in the tunnel they ended up at another of the runic markings. Finally Devrem called a halt. “All right, we don’t have time to linger further. I will trigger one of the runes, and call upon the power of the Goddess to protect me. Stay a good distance back; the ward may have an area effect.” “This is crazy,” Mara said. “Maybe we should just…” But Devrem simply turned and stepped into the circle. Mara and the others jumped back in surprise. A scream pierced the air, echoing through the corridor. Each of them felt a cold chill pass through them at that unnatural cry, but they only felt an echo of the released magic, a discharge that hit Devrem fully. The priest swayed for a moment, a low moan escaping his lips as he clutched tightly to the bole of his staff for support. But then he seemed to draw strength from within himself, and straightened. He drove the staff down into the floor, the iron-shod end ringing on the stone, chipping into the floor at the point where the runes met. The sepulchral cry faded at once, and the unnatural gleam that reflected from the circle likewise dissolved, leaving the corridor again more or less as it had been. The others came forward to rejoin the cleric. “You’ve got balls, I’ll grant you that, priest,” Mara said. “But maybe give us a bit more warning, next time.” Beetle had stepped forward to examine the now-defunct ward more closely, but Jaron drew their attention with a raised hand. “Do you hear that?” They all stopped moving. The sound that had alerted the Halfling was only barely audible, a soft groaning that drifted out of the darkness ahead. Then a noise only slightly louder, a gentle shuffling noise, sliding on stone. “Shine the light!” Devrem commanded. Splug had retreated almost to the end of the rope held by Elevaren, but as the attention of the others turned to him he obeyed, thrusting the lamp before him toward the darkness. The shadows of the companions elongated down the passage as the illumination brightened, until they could see the next bend in the passage ahead. A thing came around the bend. It looked almost like a man, at first glance, but even at the edges of the light, it was quickly evident that the creature was not alive. The rotting corpse staggered toward them, followed by another, and more, until it was a pack of zombies approaching. Their moans intensified as they caught sight of the companions, and their arms lifted, their claws clenching as if anticipating the rending of living flesh. [/QUOTE]
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