GodOfCheese
First Post
His second clue is the deafening blast of what sounds like a hailstorm ricocheting off the floor of a gallows; a deeply hollow sound, increasing in intensity. Shortly the noise begins to oscillate, as though the hailstones are falling in waves. Zara, recovering her balance, hears the downpour coalesce into draconic sibilants, though these delivered in haste and with a kind of sadistic mirth: “It does indeed! But before betwixt us may a bargain striketh, best proveth ye capable to such maidens capture-- alone!”
Milo’s eyes flare in frustration. He bares his teeth and grips his “staff” with white-knuckled fury as he whirls to face Zara. But the otherworldly voice isn’t finished yet:
“But despair not, daring whelp! However by this battle fare ye, know at least wilst thee thou garner remuneration most deserved…” the cackle in the voice is now unmistakable as it concludes “…for good or ill!” The sadistic laughter rings in the chamber as the “mirror” vanishes.
The Halfling raises the bejeweled cane above him, his voice heightening to a shriek. “Kill her!” He circles, shouting into the darkness. “Kill all of them!” His words continue, but dissolve into gibberish to Zara’s ear. As if to punctuate this, Milo waves his arms wildly and points in Zara’s direction.
Zara doesn’t need to know anything about magic to recognize a spell being cast when it’s being cast upon her. Moreso, her memory of Milo’s spellcasting talents isn’t necessary for her to spot danger when she sees it. Surrounded by the wreckage of her chair, and partially freed by its sundering, Zara rolls over and springs at the sorcerer with a bloodcurdling cry of frenzied exertion.
---
“I’m pretty sure I just heard Zara!” Effrem exclaims.
Chloe, her hands poised in preparation to deliver more magical healing to Davron, replies, “Where? Are you sure? I can’t hear anything over all this swordplay…”
Davron whips his shortsword left and right to block repeated thrusts by the slugs further down the stairs, producing the resonating clang of blade-on-blade followed by myriad scraping sounds as the polearms are pushed into the walls, ceiling, floor, and each other. “Sorry!” Davron calls over his back, not sounding at all apologetic.
“Ahead of you,” Effrem replies, ignoring Davron. “Down below! It sounded like one of her battle cries!”
“She must be fighting them even now!” Chloe gasps. Still alive! Hold on, Zara!
Effrem looks frustratedly at Chloe. “Isn’t there anything you can do to get us past them? She must be close.”
Chloe’s only reply is a look of exasperation, for it is Davron who responds vocally and angrily. “Sorry! I’m working as fast as I can!” Slight pause. “Do you want to do this?” As if in answer, though, the slugs fall back, and he pushes forward, allowing Chloe to follow him part way down the steps. As the slugs’ front gives way further, the two adventurers march rapidly down in pursuit.
Effrem’s soft boot touches the first stairstep to join them, leaving Andrew by necessity to guard their backs. “No thanks, Davron. It sounds like you have that covered.” He pauses. “I think I’ll be joining you shortly though.”
A puff of greasy green smoke jerks Effrem’s attention from Davron’s back. By its momentary sparkling weirdness, Effrem picks out the silhouette of a tiny black mouse, which is watching him intently. The cloud dissipates almost instantly, leaving the room dark. However, a shaky but familiar voice issues from the cloud’s locus. “Think again, Effrem.”
Milo’s eyes flare in frustration. He bares his teeth and grips his “staff” with white-knuckled fury as he whirls to face Zara. But the otherworldly voice isn’t finished yet:
“But despair not, daring whelp! However by this battle fare ye, know at least wilst thee thou garner remuneration most deserved…” the cackle in the voice is now unmistakable as it concludes “…for good or ill!” The sadistic laughter rings in the chamber as the “mirror” vanishes.
The Halfling raises the bejeweled cane above him, his voice heightening to a shriek. “Kill her!” He circles, shouting into the darkness. “Kill all of them!” His words continue, but dissolve into gibberish to Zara’s ear. As if to punctuate this, Milo waves his arms wildly and points in Zara’s direction.
Zara doesn’t need to know anything about magic to recognize a spell being cast when it’s being cast upon her. Moreso, her memory of Milo’s spellcasting talents isn’t necessary for her to spot danger when she sees it. Surrounded by the wreckage of her chair, and partially freed by its sundering, Zara rolls over and springs at the sorcerer with a bloodcurdling cry of frenzied exertion.
---
“I’m pretty sure I just heard Zara!” Effrem exclaims.
Chloe, her hands poised in preparation to deliver more magical healing to Davron, replies, “Where? Are you sure? I can’t hear anything over all this swordplay…”
Davron whips his shortsword left and right to block repeated thrusts by the slugs further down the stairs, producing the resonating clang of blade-on-blade followed by myriad scraping sounds as the polearms are pushed into the walls, ceiling, floor, and each other. “Sorry!” Davron calls over his back, not sounding at all apologetic.
“Ahead of you,” Effrem replies, ignoring Davron. “Down below! It sounded like one of her battle cries!”
“She must be fighting them even now!” Chloe gasps. Still alive! Hold on, Zara!
Effrem looks frustratedly at Chloe. “Isn’t there anything you can do to get us past them? She must be close.”
Chloe’s only reply is a look of exasperation, for it is Davron who responds vocally and angrily. “Sorry! I’m working as fast as I can!” Slight pause. “Do you want to do this?” As if in answer, though, the slugs fall back, and he pushes forward, allowing Chloe to follow him part way down the steps. As the slugs’ front gives way further, the two adventurers march rapidly down in pursuit.
Effrem’s soft boot touches the first stairstep to join them, leaving Andrew by necessity to guard their backs. “No thanks, Davron. It sounds like you have that covered.” He pauses. “I think I’ll be joining you shortly though.”
A puff of greasy green smoke jerks Effrem’s attention from Davron’s back. By its momentary sparkling weirdness, Effrem picks out the silhouette of a tiny black mouse, which is watching him intently. The cloud dissipates almost instantly, leaving the room dark. However, a shaky but familiar voice issues from the cloud’s locus. “Think again, Effrem.”
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