"Pitfalls", or "Good Thing I’m Not Afraid of the Dark"
Well, here it is. The end of the first chapter of the Small Beginnings Story Hour. I hope you've enjoyed it so far!
We will be archiving this portion of the story (as long as Morrus can accomodate us), so if you're new to the story so far, you can play catch up in the Story Hour archive. Feel free to point anyone who might like this story hour to that resource! Oh, and there's a goodly amount of other story hours there as well - make sure you read at least one other one on there!
And without further ado I'll get....
Oh crikey - OK here's the Tip of the Day:
"Six goblins wearing eyepatches in a canoe going across a river to ambush the PC's does not constitute a Pirate Campaign, no matter how many times you make them say 'Arrr.'"
D'Shai well and truly has pirates on the brain.
Now, as I was saying...
Enjoy!
*****
Ander heard the shifting of stone as the ground lurched beneath his feet and suddenly he stood on nothing but the breeze. Down he fell, through the thick layer of vines and toward the darkness below. If he had jumped the distance and been prepared for it, Icemantle’s boots would have protected him, just as they had when he leapt from the iron railing; but as it was, his feet came to rest heavily on the hard floor and his legs buckled beneath him. He crumpled as the unforgiving ground pummeled his body, as he groaned in pain and clutched his knee. After a few moments, his pain stopped, though he was not sure if it was the result of the numbness that set in or not.
Ander’s eyes adjusted to the thin streams of sunlight that filtered through the dense layer of vines above and illuminated a small patch directly beneath the opening, but the woodsman could tell that the chamber he was now in was larger than what little he could see. He struggled to his feet, supporting most of his weight on his staff, and looked around. Dead vines and bits of debris littered the dirt floor; but worst of all, the chamber smelled of something putrid, or dead, or both.
To Ander, shapes and images seemed to form in the darkness, only to disappear when he tried to search them out. Quickly he spun around using his staff as a pivot, straining to see what lay in the shadows. A sudden shuffle from above followed by Aurora’s melodic voice calmed the rising panic within the young ranger. “Are you okay Ander? We’re going to get you out.”
The woodsman took a deep breath to answer when he heard a series of loud clicks, and the trapdoor he had fallen through quickly began closing. “Bones!” he shouted. The thin beams of light were diminishing until only cracks of light were left and the young ranger glanced about frantically searching for something to prop open the door when, through the din of sliding stone, he heard a rustling, followed by an animal’s sneeze. Peering into the blackness, he searched for the source of the noise. Two beady red eyes, which held their small light even after the stone door above had slid into place, returned his gaze until the final click plunged the chamber into darkness.
Ander had always had a special gift with animals, but he could tell by the aggressive behavior of the rats before that nothing could stop rodents of such dire size from attacking if they were hungry, and so he acted. With a shuffled step, he brought his staff across hard into where he thought the body of the rat might be and was rewarded with a loud smack as his weapon struck soundly home. A low hiss caught his ears, and then the red eyes faded and disappeared, swallowed by the darkness. The scurry of clawed feet to his right caused the young warrior to lash out with his staff. His only reward was the empty swish of air and sudden slashing pain as something darted between his legs, taking a bite with it. A quick reverse thrust also found nothing but the blank space and earned the blind warrior yet another seeping wound.
Ander spun in circles trying to track his foe. Every sound brought an immediate strike from the young man’s walking staff, but none of them found their mark in the eerie darkness. His opponent had no such problems: the woodsman felt bite after bite tear through his flesh. The ranger could feel a half dozen cuts trickling blood, and his previous wounds from the last fight had begun to ache as well. He knew that if he didn’t act soon, his companions would find him in a rat’s belly.
Reaching into his belt pouch, Ander tried to find the healing draught that Theo had given to each of them. Without light he was forced to fumble inside the thick leather bag for the heavy silver flask. His fingers brushed against three vials in the bag, which caused the woodsman concern until he remembered that he had a pair of Wishbone’s Brews of Health in there as well. Since he couldn’t see, the woodsman withdrew the first vial in the pouch, leaving his fate to Tone, the Bringer of Good Fortune.
Knowing that either vial would aid his chances in survival, Ander quickly pulled out the stopper and chugged the vial’s contents. Before he had even fully drained the container, he felt his heart begin to race, and his muscles clenched, bursting with power the young man had never before felt. His wounds did not heal, but he could no longer feel their sting. The woodsman kicked back his head and finished off the liquid, throwing a one handed blow in the direction of the last attack in order to keep the creature at bay. Suddenly he was bathed in streams of sunlight as the trap door directly above him popped open with a heavy click.
He forced his eyes closed in surprise, and heard a sharp squeal behind him as the rat was forced to deal with the same light. His eyes had yet to adjust fully to the darkness, so he regained his sight relatively quickly; but he could only imagine how painful the sudden daylight was to the rat he was fighting. While he cleared his head, he heard rope slide over stone. “Ander. Take hold of this rope and we will lift you out.” Ashrem’s voice seemed unhurried.
“Ash! There’s a rat down here in the… AHHH!” The rat had recovered more quickly than Ander had thought, and sunk teeth into his thigh. Ander shook it off and shouted, “Get out of the way! I’m coming up!” Then the woodsman leapt.
Icemantle’s boots propelled him upward, and he easily cleared the gap between the floor and the opening. His hands gripped the edge of the stone and heaved upward, lifting his waist even with the now cleared patch of stone around the pit’s trapdoor. Theo stood nearby, dumbfounded as the ranger casually reached out his quarterstaff for help. The young man smiled as the priest grasped its haft and said, “Ready? Pull!”
Ander grabbed hold and pulled with all of his might, but Theo seemed unprepared for the newly acquired power of the woodsman’s arm. A look of confusion was fixed on the cleric’s face as he was yanked over the side and toppled into the pit. Then Ander heard a familiar clicking sound as the pit began to winch closed.
Kicking his legs, the ranger brought himself up to the surface where he saw Ashrem loading a crossbow. “I will need you to keep this trap door open, if you can,” the feloine stated. Ander moved to the side of the trapdoor and lowered his legs into the pit, finding a foothold on the quickly closing stone door. Then he pushed, using the power that flowed through his body from Wishbone’s potion. His legs quivered and he felt muscles bulge and rip at the strain, but the door did not close.
Below, he heard Brother Theo murmur a quick prayer to Zuras, and light flooded the chamber beneath. “Hold it steady, Ander,” Ashrem said to him as he took aim. With a twang, he let fly the bolt, and Ander heard a squeal from below. “Brother Theo,” said the feloine, “are there any more rodents down there?”
“No. I’ll take the rope out if you can hoist me up.”
“Excellent. If you can continue, Ander?”
The woodsman, gasped out a thin “Yes!” as he continued to strain against whatever mechanism tried to close the trapdoor. With renewed effort he heaved against the door, and suddenly found himself failing. The young man felt the potion he had taken run its course and leave him. “No!” he shouted as his legs began to collapse beneath him. As his strength left him, the door closed, pushing him back toward the surface. He rolled to the side, drained of even his natural strength, as the pain of all of his injuries came flooding back to him
“Brother Theo should come to no harm if there are no more rats in the pit,” Ashrem said, standing over Ander, staring at him as if to ask ‘What next?’ Ander paused, blankly holding the feloine’s gaze. A sudden sense of helplessness washed over the exhausted ranger, but he could feel the eyes of his companions boring into him, pleading with him to take action.
“Aurora, Pack, It will take all of us to free him.” Ander said at last. “I will hold the door open and it will be up to you three to lift Theo out. Ash, Have your crossbow ready just in case.”
“Are you sure you are up to this Ander?” Aurora questioned.
“Yeah, Ander.” Pack pitched in “I’m sure we can think of another way to do it, if…”
“I’m fine” Ander mumbled, averting his eyes as his own self-doubt began to rise in his stomach.
Ashrem nodded silently and rose, directing Pack and Aurora to prepare another length of rope while Ander sat on the ground shaking with weakness. The woodsman shook his head, got unsteadily to his feet, and began moving around to loosen sore muscles and walk off the pain. All the while, Ander listened as the others organized themselves to pull the priest to the surface. By the time the woodsman was ready, his three companions were ready as well.
Ashrem stood near the pit, ready to trigger it, while Ander took his position sitting near the end that would swing wide. Aurora and Pack stood nearby, bracing the rope that would haul the cleric up. On the count of three, the feloine triggered the pit trap and the door popped open. As if on cue, Ander threw his legs over the side and braced them there. He then used his staff to push against the stone door, keeping it from swinging back closed. The rope was tossed over the side, and shouts of encouragement were thrown down to the cleric, who began climbing hand over hand to the surface.
Ashrem moved behind the pair holding the rope and all three dug in as the line creaked: Ander watched them strain against Theo’s weight, fighting against the slip that seemed ready to happened at any moment and tumble them all into the pit. Then the young man head the click of gears and the sound of stone on stone as the door began to push against his staff. He leaned in, his body straining to keep the door open, but found himself being pushed farther backward as the stone drew inexorably closer. In his weakened condition he knew he could not hope to keep the stone door ajar.
Determined not to give in to his rising doubts, Ander heaved against the ironwood staff pushing with all of his diminished might, and found some of his natural strength returning to his limbs. Slowly, the door came to a halt, leaving an opening just wide enough for the aging priest to poke his head, then his shoulders above the edge of the stone. As the cleric rolled out of the pit, Ander’s grip on the staff slipped, and the woodsman fought to maintain control of the door. Quickly he yanked his legs from the pit, narrowly avoiding the crushing stone as the door slammed home with a heavy thud.
Knowing that everyone was safe, Ander closed his eyes and lay back in the thick vines, struggling to control his labored breathing. He could hear his companions also breathing heavily and settling in for a moments rest. The woodsman was almost startled as he felt strong hands rest upon his chest followed by Theo’s prayer and the comforting flow of Zuras’ reply as his wounds healed once again.
Once the calming sensation had worn away, Ander sat up and opened his eyes. After a quick nod and smile toward Theo to thank him and his patron for their gift, the woodsman eyed the rest of his companions. To his astonishment, each member of the group was glowing with pride and congratulating each other for their contribution and teamwork in the arrival to this unknown citadel. As he watched his friends, Ander felt his own emotions bubbling up and soon he was joining in the tiny celebration.
Ander only half listened as Pack retold the now epic journey down the switchback stairs. The young woodsman’s eyes were already looking at the ancient tower that stood before him, shrouded in the foreboding shadow of the massive cliff. One by one he felt his friends join his gaze at the massive structure and he knew that they shared his sudden sobriety as the full weight of their mission came crashing down. Somewhere deep within the halls of this sunless citadel lay the answers to their quest and each member knew, it was just the beginning.
END OF CHAPTER ONE OF SMALL BEGINNINGS
*****
Next Time join us for the beginning of part 2 of our saga:
"Into the Sunless Citadel," or "Rats! Why did it have to be Rats?"
Well, here it is. The end of the first chapter of the Small Beginnings Story Hour. I hope you've enjoyed it so far!
We will be archiving this portion of the story (as long as Morrus can accomodate us), so if you're new to the story so far, you can play catch up in the Story Hour archive. Feel free to point anyone who might like this story hour to that resource! Oh, and there's a goodly amount of other story hours there as well - make sure you read at least one other one on there!
And without further ado I'll get....
Oh crikey - OK here's the Tip of the Day:
"Six goblins wearing eyepatches in a canoe going across a river to ambush the PC's does not constitute a Pirate Campaign, no matter how many times you make them say 'Arrr.'"
D'Shai well and truly has pirates on the brain.
Now, as I was saying...
Enjoy!
*****
Ander heard the shifting of stone as the ground lurched beneath his feet and suddenly he stood on nothing but the breeze. Down he fell, through the thick layer of vines and toward the darkness below. If he had jumped the distance and been prepared for it, Icemantle’s boots would have protected him, just as they had when he leapt from the iron railing; but as it was, his feet came to rest heavily on the hard floor and his legs buckled beneath him. He crumpled as the unforgiving ground pummeled his body, as he groaned in pain and clutched his knee. After a few moments, his pain stopped, though he was not sure if it was the result of the numbness that set in or not.
Ander’s eyes adjusted to the thin streams of sunlight that filtered through the dense layer of vines above and illuminated a small patch directly beneath the opening, but the woodsman could tell that the chamber he was now in was larger than what little he could see. He struggled to his feet, supporting most of his weight on his staff, and looked around. Dead vines and bits of debris littered the dirt floor; but worst of all, the chamber smelled of something putrid, or dead, or both.
To Ander, shapes and images seemed to form in the darkness, only to disappear when he tried to search them out. Quickly he spun around using his staff as a pivot, straining to see what lay in the shadows. A sudden shuffle from above followed by Aurora’s melodic voice calmed the rising panic within the young ranger. “Are you okay Ander? We’re going to get you out.”
The woodsman took a deep breath to answer when he heard a series of loud clicks, and the trapdoor he had fallen through quickly began closing. “Bones!” he shouted. The thin beams of light were diminishing until only cracks of light were left and the young ranger glanced about frantically searching for something to prop open the door when, through the din of sliding stone, he heard a rustling, followed by an animal’s sneeze. Peering into the blackness, he searched for the source of the noise. Two beady red eyes, which held their small light even after the stone door above had slid into place, returned his gaze until the final click plunged the chamber into darkness.
Ander had always had a special gift with animals, but he could tell by the aggressive behavior of the rats before that nothing could stop rodents of such dire size from attacking if they were hungry, and so he acted. With a shuffled step, he brought his staff across hard into where he thought the body of the rat might be and was rewarded with a loud smack as his weapon struck soundly home. A low hiss caught his ears, and then the red eyes faded and disappeared, swallowed by the darkness. The scurry of clawed feet to his right caused the young warrior to lash out with his staff. His only reward was the empty swish of air and sudden slashing pain as something darted between his legs, taking a bite with it. A quick reverse thrust also found nothing but the blank space and earned the blind warrior yet another seeping wound.
Ander spun in circles trying to track his foe. Every sound brought an immediate strike from the young man’s walking staff, but none of them found their mark in the eerie darkness. His opponent had no such problems: the woodsman felt bite after bite tear through his flesh. The ranger could feel a half dozen cuts trickling blood, and his previous wounds from the last fight had begun to ache as well. He knew that if he didn’t act soon, his companions would find him in a rat’s belly.
Reaching into his belt pouch, Ander tried to find the healing draught that Theo had given to each of them. Without light he was forced to fumble inside the thick leather bag for the heavy silver flask. His fingers brushed against three vials in the bag, which caused the woodsman concern until he remembered that he had a pair of Wishbone’s Brews of Health in there as well. Since he couldn’t see, the woodsman withdrew the first vial in the pouch, leaving his fate to Tone, the Bringer of Good Fortune.
Knowing that either vial would aid his chances in survival, Ander quickly pulled out the stopper and chugged the vial’s contents. Before he had even fully drained the container, he felt his heart begin to race, and his muscles clenched, bursting with power the young man had never before felt. His wounds did not heal, but he could no longer feel their sting. The woodsman kicked back his head and finished off the liquid, throwing a one handed blow in the direction of the last attack in order to keep the creature at bay. Suddenly he was bathed in streams of sunlight as the trap door directly above him popped open with a heavy click.
He forced his eyes closed in surprise, and heard a sharp squeal behind him as the rat was forced to deal with the same light. His eyes had yet to adjust fully to the darkness, so he regained his sight relatively quickly; but he could only imagine how painful the sudden daylight was to the rat he was fighting. While he cleared his head, he heard rope slide over stone. “Ander. Take hold of this rope and we will lift you out.” Ashrem’s voice seemed unhurried.
“Ash! There’s a rat down here in the… AHHH!” The rat had recovered more quickly than Ander had thought, and sunk teeth into his thigh. Ander shook it off and shouted, “Get out of the way! I’m coming up!” Then the woodsman leapt.
Icemantle’s boots propelled him upward, and he easily cleared the gap between the floor and the opening. His hands gripped the edge of the stone and heaved upward, lifting his waist even with the now cleared patch of stone around the pit’s trapdoor. Theo stood nearby, dumbfounded as the ranger casually reached out his quarterstaff for help. The young man smiled as the priest grasped its haft and said, “Ready? Pull!”
Ander grabbed hold and pulled with all of his might, but Theo seemed unprepared for the newly acquired power of the woodsman’s arm. A look of confusion was fixed on the cleric’s face as he was yanked over the side and toppled into the pit. Then Ander heard a familiar clicking sound as the pit began to winch closed.
Kicking his legs, the ranger brought himself up to the surface where he saw Ashrem loading a crossbow. “I will need you to keep this trap door open, if you can,” the feloine stated. Ander moved to the side of the trapdoor and lowered his legs into the pit, finding a foothold on the quickly closing stone door. Then he pushed, using the power that flowed through his body from Wishbone’s potion. His legs quivered and he felt muscles bulge and rip at the strain, but the door did not close.
Below, he heard Brother Theo murmur a quick prayer to Zuras, and light flooded the chamber beneath. “Hold it steady, Ander,” Ashrem said to him as he took aim. With a twang, he let fly the bolt, and Ander heard a squeal from below. “Brother Theo,” said the feloine, “are there any more rodents down there?”
“No. I’ll take the rope out if you can hoist me up.”
“Excellent. If you can continue, Ander?”
The woodsman, gasped out a thin “Yes!” as he continued to strain against whatever mechanism tried to close the trapdoor. With renewed effort he heaved against the door, and suddenly found himself failing. The young man felt the potion he had taken run its course and leave him. “No!” he shouted as his legs began to collapse beneath him. As his strength left him, the door closed, pushing him back toward the surface. He rolled to the side, drained of even his natural strength, as the pain of all of his injuries came flooding back to him
“Brother Theo should come to no harm if there are no more rats in the pit,” Ashrem said, standing over Ander, staring at him as if to ask ‘What next?’ Ander paused, blankly holding the feloine’s gaze. A sudden sense of helplessness washed over the exhausted ranger, but he could feel the eyes of his companions boring into him, pleading with him to take action.
“Aurora, Pack, It will take all of us to free him.” Ander said at last. “I will hold the door open and it will be up to you three to lift Theo out. Ash, Have your crossbow ready just in case.”
“Are you sure you are up to this Ander?” Aurora questioned.
“Yeah, Ander.” Pack pitched in “I’m sure we can think of another way to do it, if…”
“I’m fine” Ander mumbled, averting his eyes as his own self-doubt began to rise in his stomach.
Ashrem nodded silently and rose, directing Pack and Aurora to prepare another length of rope while Ander sat on the ground shaking with weakness. The woodsman shook his head, got unsteadily to his feet, and began moving around to loosen sore muscles and walk off the pain. All the while, Ander listened as the others organized themselves to pull the priest to the surface. By the time the woodsman was ready, his three companions were ready as well.
Ashrem stood near the pit, ready to trigger it, while Ander took his position sitting near the end that would swing wide. Aurora and Pack stood nearby, bracing the rope that would haul the cleric up. On the count of three, the feloine triggered the pit trap and the door popped open. As if on cue, Ander threw his legs over the side and braced them there. He then used his staff to push against the stone door, keeping it from swinging back closed. The rope was tossed over the side, and shouts of encouragement were thrown down to the cleric, who began climbing hand over hand to the surface.
Ashrem moved behind the pair holding the rope and all three dug in as the line creaked: Ander watched them strain against Theo’s weight, fighting against the slip that seemed ready to happened at any moment and tumble them all into the pit. Then the young man head the click of gears and the sound of stone on stone as the door began to push against his staff. He leaned in, his body straining to keep the door open, but found himself being pushed farther backward as the stone drew inexorably closer. In his weakened condition he knew he could not hope to keep the stone door ajar.
Determined not to give in to his rising doubts, Ander heaved against the ironwood staff pushing with all of his diminished might, and found some of his natural strength returning to his limbs. Slowly, the door came to a halt, leaving an opening just wide enough for the aging priest to poke his head, then his shoulders above the edge of the stone. As the cleric rolled out of the pit, Ander’s grip on the staff slipped, and the woodsman fought to maintain control of the door. Quickly he yanked his legs from the pit, narrowly avoiding the crushing stone as the door slammed home with a heavy thud.
Knowing that everyone was safe, Ander closed his eyes and lay back in the thick vines, struggling to control his labored breathing. He could hear his companions also breathing heavily and settling in for a moments rest. The woodsman was almost startled as he felt strong hands rest upon his chest followed by Theo’s prayer and the comforting flow of Zuras’ reply as his wounds healed once again.
Once the calming sensation had worn away, Ander sat up and opened his eyes. After a quick nod and smile toward Theo to thank him and his patron for their gift, the woodsman eyed the rest of his companions. To his astonishment, each member of the group was glowing with pride and congratulating each other for their contribution and teamwork in the arrival to this unknown citadel. As he watched his friends, Ander felt his own emotions bubbling up and soon he was joining in the tiny celebration.
Ander only half listened as Pack retold the now epic journey down the switchback stairs. The young woodsman’s eyes were already looking at the ancient tower that stood before him, shrouded in the foreboding shadow of the massive cliff. One by one he felt his friends join his gaze at the massive structure and he knew that they shared his sudden sobriety as the full weight of their mission came crashing down. Somewhere deep within the halls of this sunless citadel lay the answers to their quest and each member knew, it was just the beginning.
END OF CHAPTER ONE OF SMALL BEGINNINGS
*****
Next Time join us for the beginning of part 2 of our saga:
"Into the Sunless Citadel," or "Rats! Why did it have to be Rats?"
