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Sniktch's Story Hour - City of the Spider Queen (Updated 04/25)
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<blockquote data-quote="Sniktch" data-source="post: 401856" data-attributes="member: 7704"><p><strong>Entering the crypts</strong></p><p></p><p>Malobar approached the doors first, the others a couple of steps behind. The thick stone doors were set deep into the hillside with a masonry arch, supported by two stone columns carved to resemble two skeletal warriors in full plate armor, their visored helmets open to reveal their leering skulls. Malobar shuddered as he passed between them, then knelt by the door to inspect it closely. After a few moments, he turned back to the others. </p><p></p><p>“These doors are locked somehow, from the inside. However, they are heavily damaged – someone has tried to force their way in the past. A strong blow may be enough to gain us entry.”</p><p></p><p>Grick stepped forward, cracking his knuckles. He stretched for several moments and then applied his weight to the door in a sudden push. He could hear the rattling of a chain from the other side, but the door did not give. </p><p></p><p>“Focus your ki, Grick, remember? You can do this.” Quinn’s voice, soft, encouraging as always. This angered Grick somehow – why was everyone always telling him to focus, and don’t drink too much, and try to relax, and all the other inane questions they pelted him with every day.</p><p></p><p>He whirled to face her. “I have found a better way,” he growled, pulling his flask from the top of his boot. He uncorked it and lifted it to his lips, feeling the delicious burn as the whiskey poured down his throat, feeling his power increase as the liquor warmed his body. “Hraaaar!” he yelled and threw himself at the door again. This time he heard a snapping and popping sound from the other side, and the door flew inward.</p><p></p><p>A carved stone tunnel, ten foot wide, stretched away from him. Just inside the door he saw five moldering corpses, black skin rotting away to reveal the tissues beneath, white hair fanned out upon the floor. These were dark elves! Welby pushed past him, gesturing down the tunnel, sending his shadow to make sure no enemies waited near. Then the halfling began to inspect the corpses, bald head shining in the torchlight as it bobbed up and down over the fallen drow. He stood up after a few minutes and waved the others over. He held a small arrow in his hand.</p><p></p><p>“Drow did this. Drow killed drow, see arrows? Why drow kill?” His small face crinkled in confusion.</p><p></p><p>Artimas approached him. “Do they ever need a reason, Welby? Drow kill each other all the time – these were probably from a rival house or rivals within the same house, and the other drow took the opportunity.” Artimas winced, still feeling the pain of the wound across his side and aching all over from the repeated magical attacks. “Now, come, move away and let me see the bodies. I am sore all over and would like it to stop.”</p><p></p><p>Welby stepped away from the bodies. He turned and started down the tunnel to a door he saw, motioning the others to follow. He saw that only Malobar turned back to glance at the mage. Of course, he did not know what to expect, he had never seen this before. Welby watched the elf’s face, and grinned to himself when he saw the sudden flash of horror cross the delicate features as he jerked his eyes from the sight. Yes, Artimas’ grim feast was never a pleasant sight. Best to distract him. “Hey elf, door here. Search door?”</p><p></p><p>Malobar was relieved to be distracted. “Yes, of course. I will be right there.”</p><p></p><p>The door was plain and unadorned, and led to an empty chamber with four niches carved into the wall. They gave it a cursory search but found nothing. Apparently the crypts had been abandoned before this chamber could be put to use. They continued down the hallway, following it as it turned sharply to the right, and came upon two more doors. One lay just around the corner, while they could see the outline of the other on the edge of the torchlight.</p><p></p><p>The first door had been obviously broken into at some point. Malobar pointed to the edges of the door, scratched and gouged by the chisel that had removed the plaster. Artimas motioned for him to step aside, then pushed his zombie forward. “Igor, open the door.” They tensed expectantly as the door swung open, the stone scraping against the floor, then relaxed. Igor’s torch revealed a rectangular chamber empty except for two rows of sarcophagi, one along each of the long walls. “Igor, enter,” commanded Artimas, then fell in step behind his shambling charge.</p><p></p><p>Suddenly a flash of light blinded them as a glyph was activated on the floor of the room. Blinking rapidly to get rid if the spots, they saw that two enormous glowing lions had materialized in the room. The first swung its paw towards Igor and the zombies head was knocked from its shoulders, the carcass losing its animating force and sinking once more into death. The second lion bounded towards Artimas, seizing the mage in its jaws and bearing him to the floor, where its legs began to rapidly rake at his body, threatening to shred him completely.</p><p></p><p>Artimas screamed in agony and focused his will upon the spirit floor, calling his ghosts to his aid. Two shadowy forms rose from the floor and grabbed the lion holding him in icy claws. They were soon joined by a third as Welby directed his ally to join the fray. The beast roared in pain and shrank from their cold embrace as Welby and Grick charged in and began hacking at it with their swords. The thing appeared to be wasting away before their eyes, the muscles slackening and eroding even as their fine blades extinguished the light in its eyes. The shadows released the corpse and floated towards the second lion, which tried valiantly to fend them off but found itself unable to harm the insubstantial spirits. Welby and Grick rushed in once more, and Malobar entered the room with his bow drawn, filling the air with arrows. Meanwhile, Quinn grabbed the bleeding mage and pulled him into the hallway, falling over him and once more invoking the healing power to draw his torn flesh together. </p><p></p><p>Artimas rose again as the second lion fell, its corpse melting away as it settled to the ground. He shook his head when he saw the zombie, then picked up the head and carried it back to the body. “Oh, but this is going to take time, now.” He pulled a needle and thread from a pocket of his robes and began stitching the lumpy mass back to its body.</p><p></p><p>The others moved past him and began examining the contents of the stone coffins. Thankfully, they found no restless dead in this crypt, and even found some treasure within one of the sarcophagi. The moldering skeleton had a gold torc fastened around its neck and gripped a finely wrought spear in one hand and a slender willow branch in the other. Quinn muttered a quick prayer as she examined the treasures, then nodded to the others. “The spear and wand are both enchanted.” She grabbed the wand and stuffed it in her belt and Welby picked up the spear. Finding nothing else in the room, they returned to the hallway and waited for Artimas to finish his grisly task.</p><p></p><p>Artimas spoke to the head as he fastened it back to its body, “No, my friend Mask, you do not escape me so easily. I will use this shell of yours until nothing remains.” Finishing the task, he placed an onyx gem between the lips and raised his voice. “Lord Arawn, your servant still has use for this empty shell. Renew the tide of unlife once more.”</p><p></p><p>The zombie shuddered into motion as it was reanimated once again. Artimas handed it the torch and then stepped into the hall, Igor shuffling behind. The group moved down the hall to examine the next door. They stopped in a semi-circle in the hallway, immediately seeing that this door remained sealed after all these centuries. Malobar stepped forward to brush the dust off of the door, searching for crests or inscriptions. As soon as his fingers brushed the door, there was a crackle and a flare of black energy, and Malobar cried out and fell back, unmoving.</p><p></p><p>“Death magic!” Artimas cried. He turned to Quinn, “Is he…?”</p><p></p><p>Quinn examined the fallen elf and shook her head. “He survived, but barely. I will bring him around, but I will have precious little healing left today.”</p><p></p><p>“Maybe we should rest now,” Artimas stated. “I wish I knew what was behind this door, though. Did we alert anything when he triggered the trap?”</p><p></p><p>Welby turned to the shadow slinking behind him. “Go through door. Tell me what you see.” The figure disappeared through the doorway for a moment, then came back. Its eyes flashed red at Welby, and he turned back to the others. “Small room, more doors, stone lady.”</p><p></p><p>Quinn had meanwhile healed the stricken elf. Malobar rose and inspected the door once more, careful not to touch it this time. “Aha! I see it, a little glyph, there.” He pointed to a spot on the door and turned to Artimas.</p><p></p><p>Artimas stepped up and peered at the sigil. “Yes, a powerful ward, designed to slay any creature that touches the door. You were lucky to survive. Still, if we could just scratch it out, we should have no further trouble in opening the door.”</p><p></p><p>“I can do that,” Malobar replied without hesitation.</p><p></p><p>“It will be dangerous,” intoned Artimas. “If you are not careful you could trigger the glyph again. It is doubtful you would survive another exposure to the effect.”</p><p></p><p>“Hah, it was for this I was born. No trap can defeat me, once I know of its presence.” Malobar pulled a short staff from his pack and pressed a button. The staff grew to twice its length, and then he carefully moved up to the door. His hand crept out, guiding the pole, and then with a sudden motion he brought the staff across the glyph, smudging the magical mark and destroying its pattern.</p><p></p><p>Artimas concentrated on the door for just a second. “I sense no further enchantment. It should be safe to open the door now.”</p><p></p><p>Malobar pulled a hammer and chisel from his pack and they took turns hammering at the plaster until it had all been scraped away. Then Welby and Grick positioned themselves in front of the door and the burly half-orc pushed it open. Inside was a small bare chamber thick with dust and obviously undisturbed. Facing the door was an exquisite statue of a regal woman in a long flowing gown. She stood facing the door in a commanding position as if demanding attention from the companions. They stared at her for long, tense moments before deciding the statue was just that, and posed no threat. Finally, Grick shrugged and took a step into the room.</p><p></p><p>The statue’s arm shot up to point at them, a vicious sneer pulling its carved lips tight. An imperious voice resounded through the air.</p><p></p><p>“Who dares to despoil my tomb? Leave now or face my wrath!”</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Sniktch, post: 401856, member: 7704"] [b]Entering the crypts[/b] Malobar approached the doors first, the others a couple of steps behind. The thick stone doors were set deep into the hillside with a masonry arch, supported by two stone columns carved to resemble two skeletal warriors in full plate armor, their visored helmets open to reveal their leering skulls. Malobar shuddered as he passed between them, then knelt by the door to inspect it closely. After a few moments, he turned back to the others. “These doors are locked somehow, from the inside. However, they are heavily damaged – someone has tried to force their way in the past. A strong blow may be enough to gain us entry.” Grick stepped forward, cracking his knuckles. He stretched for several moments and then applied his weight to the door in a sudden push. He could hear the rattling of a chain from the other side, but the door did not give. “Focus your ki, Grick, remember? You can do this.” Quinn’s voice, soft, encouraging as always. This angered Grick somehow – why was everyone always telling him to focus, and don’t drink too much, and try to relax, and all the other inane questions they pelted him with every day. He whirled to face her. “I have found a better way,” he growled, pulling his flask from the top of his boot. He uncorked it and lifted it to his lips, feeling the delicious burn as the whiskey poured down his throat, feeling his power increase as the liquor warmed his body. “Hraaaar!” he yelled and threw himself at the door again. This time he heard a snapping and popping sound from the other side, and the door flew inward. A carved stone tunnel, ten foot wide, stretched away from him. Just inside the door he saw five moldering corpses, black skin rotting away to reveal the tissues beneath, white hair fanned out upon the floor. These were dark elves! Welby pushed past him, gesturing down the tunnel, sending his shadow to make sure no enemies waited near. Then the halfling began to inspect the corpses, bald head shining in the torchlight as it bobbed up and down over the fallen drow. He stood up after a few minutes and waved the others over. He held a small arrow in his hand. “Drow did this. Drow killed drow, see arrows? Why drow kill?” His small face crinkled in confusion. Artimas approached him. “Do they ever need a reason, Welby? Drow kill each other all the time – these were probably from a rival house or rivals within the same house, and the other drow took the opportunity.” Artimas winced, still feeling the pain of the wound across his side and aching all over from the repeated magical attacks. “Now, come, move away and let me see the bodies. I am sore all over and would like it to stop.” Welby stepped away from the bodies. He turned and started down the tunnel to a door he saw, motioning the others to follow. He saw that only Malobar turned back to glance at the mage. Of course, he did not know what to expect, he had never seen this before. Welby watched the elf’s face, and grinned to himself when he saw the sudden flash of horror cross the delicate features as he jerked his eyes from the sight. Yes, Artimas’ grim feast was never a pleasant sight. Best to distract him. “Hey elf, door here. Search door?” Malobar was relieved to be distracted. “Yes, of course. I will be right there.” The door was plain and unadorned, and led to an empty chamber with four niches carved into the wall. They gave it a cursory search but found nothing. Apparently the crypts had been abandoned before this chamber could be put to use. They continued down the hallway, following it as it turned sharply to the right, and came upon two more doors. One lay just around the corner, while they could see the outline of the other on the edge of the torchlight. The first door had been obviously broken into at some point. Malobar pointed to the edges of the door, scratched and gouged by the chisel that had removed the plaster. Artimas motioned for him to step aside, then pushed his zombie forward. “Igor, open the door.” They tensed expectantly as the door swung open, the stone scraping against the floor, then relaxed. Igor’s torch revealed a rectangular chamber empty except for two rows of sarcophagi, one along each of the long walls. “Igor, enter,” commanded Artimas, then fell in step behind his shambling charge. Suddenly a flash of light blinded them as a glyph was activated on the floor of the room. Blinking rapidly to get rid if the spots, they saw that two enormous glowing lions had materialized in the room. The first swung its paw towards Igor and the zombies head was knocked from its shoulders, the carcass losing its animating force and sinking once more into death. The second lion bounded towards Artimas, seizing the mage in its jaws and bearing him to the floor, where its legs began to rapidly rake at his body, threatening to shred him completely. Artimas screamed in agony and focused his will upon the spirit floor, calling his ghosts to his aid. Two shadowy forms rose from the floor and grabbed the lion holding him in icy claws. They were soon joined by a third as Welby directed his ally to join the fray. The beast roared in pain and shrank from their cold embrace as Welby and Grick charged in and began hacking at it with their swords. The thing appeared to be wasting away before their eyes, the muscles slackening and eroding even as their fine blades extinguished the light in its eyes. The shadows released the corpse and floated towards the second lion, which tried valiantly to fend them off but found itself unable to harm the insubstantial spirits. Welby and Grick rushed in once more, and Malobar entered the room with his bow drawn, filling the air with arrows. Meanwhile, Quinn grabbed the bleeding mage and pulled him into the hallway, falling over him and once more invoking the healing power to draw his torn flesh together. Artimas rose again as the second lion fell, its corpse melting away as it settled to the ground. He shook his head when he saw the zombie, then picked up the head and carried it back to the body. “Oh, but this is going to take time, now.” He pulled a needle and thread from a pocket of his robes and began stitching the lumpy mass back to its body. The others moved past him and began examining the contents of the stone coffins. Thankfully, they found no restless dead in this crypt, and even found some treasure within one of the sarcophagi. The moldering skeleton had a gold torc fastened around its neck and gripped a finely wrought spear in one hand and a slender willow branch in the other. Quinn muttered a quick prayer as she examined the treasures, then nodded to the others. “The spear and wand are both enchanted.” She grabbed the wand and stuffed it in her belt and Welby picked up the spear. Finding nothing else in the room, they returned to the hallway and waited for Artimas to finish his grisly task. Artimas spoke to the head as he fastened it back to its body, “No, my friend Mask, you do not escape me so easily. I will use this shell of yours until nothing remains.” Finishing the task, he placed an onyx gem between the lips and raised his voice. “Lord Arawn, your servant still has use for this empty shell. Renew the tide of unlife once more.” The zombie shuddered into motion as it was reanimated once again. Artimas handed it the torch and then stepped into the hall, Igor shuffling behind. The group moved down the hall to examine the next door. They stopped in a semi-circle in the hallway, immediately seeing that this door remained sealed after all these centuries. Malobar stepped forward to brush the dust off of the door, searching for crests or inscriptions. As soon as his fingers brushed the door, there was a crackle and a flare of black energy, and Malobar cried out and fell back, unmoving. “Death magic!” Artimas cried. He turned to Quinn, “Is he…?” Quinn examined the fallen elf and shook her head. “He survived, but barely. I will bring him around, but I will have precious little healing left today.” “Maybe we should rest now,” Artimas stated. “I wish I knew what was behind this door, though. Did we alert anything when he triggered the trap?” Welby turned to the shadow slinking behind him. “Go through door. Tell me what you see.” The figure disappeared through the doorway for a moment, then came back. Its eyes flashed red at Welby, and he turned back to the others. “Small room, more doors, stone lady.” Quinn had meanwhile healed the stricken elf. Malobar rose and inspected the door once more, careful not to touch it this time. “Aha! I see it, a little glyph, there.” He pointed to a spot on the door and turned to Artimas. Artimas stepped up and peered at the sigil. “Yes, a powerful ward, designed to slay any creature that touches the door. You were lucky to survive. Still, if we could just scratch it out, we should have no further trouble in opening the door.” “I can do that,” Malobar replied without hesitation. “It will be dangerous,” intoned Artimas. “If you are not careful you could trigger the glyph again. It is doubtful you would survive another exposure to the effect.” “Hah, it was for this I was born. No trap can defeat me, once I know of its presence.” Malobar pulled a short staff from his pack and pressed a button. The staff grew to twice its length, and then he carefully moved up to the door. His hand crept out, guiding the pole, and then with a sudden motion he brought the staff across the glyph, smudging the magical mark and destroying its pattern. Artimas concentrated on the door for just a second. “I sense no further enchantment. It should be safe to open the door now.” Malobar pulled a hammer and chisel from his pack and they took turns hammering at the plaster until it had all been scraped away. Then Welby and Grick positioned themselves in front of the door and the burly half-orc pushed it open. Inside was a small bare chamber thick with dust and obviously undisturbed. Facing the door was an exquisite statue of a regal woman in a long flowing gown. She stood facing the door in a commanding position as if demanding attention from the companions. They stared at her for long, tense moments before deciding the statue was just that, and posed no threat. Finally, Grick shrugged and took a step into the room. The statue’s arm shot up to point at them, a vicious sneer pulling its carved lips tight. An imperious voice resounded through the air. “Who dares to despoil my tomb? Leave now or face my wrath!” [/QUOTE]
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Sniktch's Story Hour - City of the Spider Queen (Updated 04/25)
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