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Lazybones's Keep on the Shadowfell/Thunderspire Labyrinth
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<blockquote data-quote="Lazybones" data-source="post: 4621038" data-attributes="member: 143"><p>Chapter 66</p><p></p><p></p><p>A vampire sprang off the wall, its clawed hands extended toward Elevaren as it hurled toward the eladrin’s back. The warlock, already focusing his magic upon the human berserkers, never even saw the creature coming, but in the scant heartbeat before collision Beetle flipped a knife into the creature’s heart. The once-farmer, transformed by the power of the Shadowfell, shrieked and dissolved into a plume of vaporous mists. The only thing left of it was Beetle’s knife, which clattered noisily to the floor. </p><p></p><p>But there were more of the creatures, which sprang down off the walls flanking the entry, descending onto the embattled companions even as the berserkers surged into the front of their line. </p><p></p><p>Three vampires sprang upon Devrem, but before they could get a solid grasp on him or bite with their long fangs, the priest raised his staff, and unleashed a pulse of positive energy that tore through them like daggers. All three vampires dissolved into a vile mist. </p><p></p><p>The last vampire dove at Mara from behind as the fighter stepped forward to engage the two berserkers, but Jaron intercepted it, piercing its heart with an arrow that destroyed it as effectively as Beetle’s dagger had done just a moment before. </p><p></p><p>Thus far, the battle had been entirely one-sided, but that changed a moment later as the berserkers laid into Mara. They were utterly silent as they closed and lashed out with their axes, attacking in unison like mirror images of each other. Mara fell back and raised her swords to parry, but she could not avoid the full force of the assault, one axe coming off her longer blade to painfully dent her greave, while the other hit the shorter sword with enough force to drive the weapon into her own torso. The latter impact was hard enough to cut flesh, even through the layer of metal scales protecting her. She avoided being taken down in that initial exchange, but she’d been bloodied, and she had no opportunity to counter as she was driven back before the sheer frenzy of their attacks. </p><p></p><p>The odds evened somewhat as Elevaren unleashed his power, clouding the mind of the first berserker with the <em>curse of the dark dream</em>. The dazed warrior staggered back to the lip of the pit, where he slipped and tumbled over the edge into the darkness below. Even then, not so much as a whisper escaped his lips, although they could all hear the sick thump that announced the end of his journey. </p><p></p><p>The loss of his companion only seemed to drive the remaining berserker to a greater fury in his attacks, although his expression remained slack and neutral. Mara fell back again and narrowly avoided the blade that sliced through her tunic across her gut, ringing softly as the tip scraped the scales of her armor. She thrust with her longer sword at her foe, but while the tip drew blood, the wound was barely a scrape, and he ignored it as he pivoted back into his ready stance in anticipation of another attack. </p><p></p><p>The halflings had started to go to Mara’s aid, but a scream from Elevaren drew their attention back. A dark figure had emerged from the shadows behind them, escaping their notice in the initial tumult of the melee. Now it stepped back from the eladrin, its dagger glistening bright red with the warlock’s blood. As the blue light penetrated its hood they saw that it was a goblin, or at least it had been. Its face now bore the taint of Shadow upon it, and darkness seemed to flow around its body like a cloak as it moved, shifting with a speed and grace faster than any of them had ever before seen. </p><p></p><p>“Careful, Beetle!” Jaron warned, as the younger halfling sprang at the creature. The dark creeper slipped aside, and the rogue’s initial attack met only empty darkness. Likewise, Jaron’s shot, though seeming to be right on target until the very last instant, flew past and bounced off a nearby wall. A sinister cackle came from the depths of the creeper’s cowl, and it twisted its dagger through the air before it, as if taunting the halflings with it. </p><p></p><p>Beetle responded by flicking a knife up at its face; while the knife vanished into the darkness within its cowl, a startled hiss indicated that he’d gotten its attention. The creature flung itself at the halfling, leaping upon him in a tangle of arms and legs and stabbing blades. Jaron had another arrow ready, but he held his shot, unwilling to risk hurting his cousin in the confusion of the grapple. </p><p></p><p>Devrem was not able to assist Mara or the halflings, for he had no sooner recovered from the vampiric assault than he felt a clinging darkness descend upon him, needles of negative energy penetrating into his body and sapping his strength. He turned to see the underpriest of Orcus facing him, the source of the attack upon his very soul. He responded with a silvery <em>lance of faith</em>, but the evil priest merely lifted a hand, and deflected the stream of divine power as though it had been a stream of dandelion tufts flitting in the wind.</p><p></p><p>“Your pathetic powers are naught before the might of the True God,” Drathek cackled. </p><p></p><p>“You can tell him that when you see him,” Devrem said, tightening his grip on his staff as he started warily forward, coming around the pit to face the cleric directly. Behind him, he heard Mara’s grunts as the fighter continued battling the remaining enemy berserker, their fight accompanied by the ringing clash of steel on steel. But he could not spare her any attention at the moment; this foe would take everything he had to master. </p><p></p><p>The underpriest raised his hand again, and Devrem tensed, ready for an attack. But instead, the flow of divine magic went elsewhere, and too late he realized that the cleric was bolstering his ally, the berserker. He glanced to the side to see the warrior—now bearing a few wounds, as Mara had not been completely ineffective—suddenly swell up, and lunge forward to strike with a renewed vigor. Mara took a hit hard across her armored chest, and fell to the ground, one of her swords clattering across the bare stone tiles of the floor as it fell away from her. The warrior stepped forward to finish her off; Elevaren was there, but Devrem could not see how the warlock could hope to stop that insane enemy. </p><p></p><p>He did not get a chance to find out; a hint of motion out of the corner of his eye warned him that he’d let himself become too distracted, and he barely lifted his staff in time to partially deflect the mace that came crashing down toward his head. Drathek struck him solidly, and Devrem felt a painful jolt as the weapon glanced hard off his shoulder. The man seemed unnaturally strong. </p><p></p><p>But Devrem had his own power, and his faith was as strong as that of the corrupt servant of Orcus. He hit the priest with a burst of <em>sacred flame</em>, directing the backblast of positive energy that flowed from the spell back toward Mara. The underpriest hissed as the flickers of silver power flared around his face, but he was far too durable an adversary to fall to such an attack. His counter came quickly, and the head of the mace came under Devrem’s guard to crash solidly into his gut. The critical hit drove the air from the priest’s body, and Devrem staggered back, sinking to one knee as he fought the stabbing pains that radiated out from the center of his body. </p><p></p><p>“If this is the best that they can send, then the Nentir Vale will fall quickly indeed,” Drathek said, chuckling as he came forward to finish what he had started.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Lazybones, post: 4621038, member: 143"] Chapter 66 A vampire sprang off the wall, its clawed hands extended toward Elevaren as it hurled toward the eladrin’s back. The warlock, already focusing his magic upon the human berserkers, never even saw the creature coming, but in the scant heartbeat before collision Beetle flipped a knife into the creature’s heart. The once-farmer, transformed by the power of the Shadowfell, shrieked and dissolved into a plume of vaporous mists. The only thing left of it was Beetle’s knife, which clattered noisily to the floor. But there were more of the creatures, which sprang down off the walls flanking the entry, descending onto the embattled companions even as the berserkers surged into the front of their line. Three vampires sprang upon Devrem, but before they could get a solid grasp on him or bite with their long fangs, the priest raised his staff, and unleashed a pulse of positive energy that tore through them like daggers. All three vampires dissolved into a vile mist. The last vampire dove at Mara from behind as the fighter stepped forward to engage the two berserkers, but Jaron intercepted it, piercing its heart with an arrow that destroyed it as effectively as Beetle’s dagger had done just a moment before. Thus far, the battle had been entirely one-sided, but that changed a moment later as the berserkers laid into Mara. They were utterly silent as they closed and lashed out with their axes, attacking in unison like mirror images of each other. Mara fell back and raised her swords to parry, but she could not avoid the full force of the assault, one axe coming off her longer blade to painfully dent her greave, while the other hit the shorter sword with enough force to drive the weapon into her own torso. The latter impact was hard enough to cut flesh, even through the layer of metal scales protecting her. She avoided being taken down in that initial exchange, but she’d been bloodied, and she had no opportunity to counter as she was driven back before the sheer frenzy of their attacks. The odds evened somewhat as Elevaren unleashed his power, clouding the mind of the first berserker with the [i]curse of the dark dream[/i]. The dazed warrior staggered back to the lip of the pit, where he slipped and tumbled over the edge into the darkness below. Even then, not so much as a whisper escaped his lips, although they could all hear the sick thump that announced the end of his journey. The loss of his companion only seemed to drive the remaining berserker to a greater fury in his attacks, although his expression remained slack and neutral. Mara fell back again and narrowly avoided the blade that sliced through her tunic across her gut, ringing softly as the tip scraped the scales of her armor. She thrust with her longer sword at her foe, but while the tip drew blood, the wound was barely a scrape, and he ignored it as he pivoted back into his ready stance in anticipation of another attack. The halflings had started to go to Mara’s aid, but a scream from Elevaren drew their attention back. A dark figure had emerged from the shadows behind them, escaping their notice in the initial tumult of the melee. Now it stepped back from the eladrin, its dagger glistening bright red with the warlock’s blood. As the blue light penetrated its hood they saw that it was a goblin, or at least it had been. Its face now bore the taint of Shadow upon it, and darkness seemed to flow around its body like a cloak as it moved, shifting with a speed and grace faster than any of them had ever before seen. “Careful, Beetle!” Jaron warned, as the younger halfling sprang at the creature. The dark creeper slipped aside, and the rogue’s initial attack met only empty darkness. Likewise, Jaron’s shot, though seeming to be right on target until the very last instant, flew past and bounced off a nearby wall. A sinister cackle came from the depths of the creeper’s cowl, and it twisted its dagger through the air before it, as if taunting the halflings with it. Beetle responded by flicking a knife up at its face; while the knife vanished into the darkness within its cowl, a startled hiss indicated that he’d gotten its attention. The creature flung itself at the halfling, leaping upon him in a tangle of arms and legs and stabbing blades. Jaron had another arrow ready, but he held his shot, unwilling to risk hurting his cousin in the confusion of the grapple. Devrem was not able to assist Mara or the halflings, for he had no sooner recovered from the vampiric assault than he felt a clinging darkness descend upon him, needles of negative energy penetrating into his body and sapping his strength. He turned to see the underpriest of Orcus facing him, the source of the attack upon his very soul. He responded with a silvery [i]lance of faith[/i], but the evil priest merely lifted a hand, and deflected the stream of divine power as though it had been a stream of dandelion tufts flitting in the wind. “Your pathetic powers are naught before the might of the True God,” Drathek cackled. “You can tell him that when you see him,” Devrem said, tightening his grip on his staff as he started warily forward, coming around the pit to face the cleric directly. Behind him, he heard Mara’s grunts as the fighter continued battling the remaining enemy berserker, their fight accompanied by the ringing clash of steel on steel. But he could not spare her any attention at the moment; this foe would take everything he had to master. The underpriest raised his hand again, and Devrem tensed, ready for an attack. But instead, the flow of divine magic went elsewhere, and too late he realized that the cleric was bolstering his ally, the berserker. He glanced to the side to see the warrior—now bearing a few wounds, as Mara had not been completely ineffective—suddenly swell up, and lunge forward to strike with a renewed vigor. Mara took a hit hard across her armored chest, and fell to the ground, one of her swords clattering across the bare stone tiles of the floor as it fell away from her. The warrior stepped forward to finish her off; Elevaren was there, but Devrem could not see how the warlock could hope to stop that insane enemy. He did not get a chance to find out; a hint of motion out of the corner of his eye warned him that he’d let himself become too distracted, and he barely lifted his staff in time to partially deflect the mace that came crashing down toward his head. Drathek struck him solidly, and Devrem felt a painful jolt as the weapon glanced hard off his shoulder. The man seemed unnaturally strong. But Devrem had his own power, and his faith was as strong as that of the corrupt servant of Orcus. He hit the priest with a burst of [i]sacred flame[/i], directing the backblast of positive energy that flowed from the spell back toward Mara. The underpriest hissed as the flickers of silver power flared around his face, but he was far too durable an adversary to fall to such an attack. His counter came quickly, and the head of the mace came under Devrem’s guard to crash solidly into his gut. The critical hit drove the air from the priest’s body, and Devrem staggered back, sinking to one knee as he fought the stabbing pains that radiated out from the center of his body. “If this is the best that they can send, then the Nentir Vale will fall quickly indeed,” Drathek said, chuckling as he came forward to finish what he had started. [/QUOTE]
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