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Story Hour
Steel Dragon's "Tales of Orea"
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<blockquote data-quote="steeldragons" data-source="post: 5970489" data-attributes="member: 92511"><p>The company stood, tense and battle-ready, as the purple light and remaining energies floated off of them like smoke. </p><p></p><p>Their initial expectation of meeting with resistance soon faded as they came to realize the figures they saw "standing" about the huge pillared hall did not move. </p><p></p><p>The whole place flickered in the light of many braziers and torches set in sconces along the innumerable pillars that extended far above them into shadow.</p><p></p><p>They stood upon a dais at one end of this chamber. Not far from them sat an immense throne of crystal. The back of the throne was shaped like a great swan. Its long neck arched up over and looked down upon the seat of the throne. Two outstretched wings flanked the back of the throne. The whole thing glittered with a thousand facets in the flaming light.</p><p></p><p>Sensing no imminent danger, movement or sound, the party spread out cautiously to take in their immediate vicinity.</p><p></p><p>The pillars and hall seemed to extend beyond their vision to either side of the throned dais and stretched out before them into a forest of carved columns. Any entrance to the hall was far beyond their view, though the flickering glow of unseen torches could be seen for some way.</p><p></p><p>Festus and a still invisible Erevan padded their way to the nearest of the pillars. They revealed a multitude of figures and carvings. Swans, birds, vines and trees with squirrels and songbirds climbing among them. In several places, carvings had been vandalized, either smashed in places or scrawled with black smears. There were several skeletons that appeared to be long bound and/or "pressed"<em> into</em> the columns.</p><p></p><p>Braddok stayed near Alaria who was examining a small console of stone that was raised near the circle they'd just appeared in. It was akin to the console in the teleportal chamber in Daenfrii. Alaria hoped against hope that it might prove a direct exit for them...if she could decipher how to operate it. </p><p></p><p>Haelan and Fen were most interested in the crystal throne. The druid wandered down the few steps of the dais to examine the closest "figure" standing near the bottom step. It was a statue of am man. Rather tall and regal looking. The detail of his finery and face were uncanny. A neatly trimmed beard and bejeweled crown about his brow lent to his noble appearance. He was partially turned, as if looking back at the throne. A mild look of surprise or questioning on his face.</p><p></p><p>"I think we've found Lord Gorathiel." the druid said quietly. </p><p></p><p>"Haelan, do you or Fen sense anything here?" Braddok asked in a hushed tone.</p><p></p><p>The daelvar and half-elf confirmed that the pressing "evilness" of the demons' alcoves was not present here. Just the foreboding shadows of the unseen ceiling and a general staleness in the air. The whole place just felt...and smelled "musty." Not even a whiff of smoke from all of the fires burning. A fact that Festus and Haelan found odd.</p><p></p><p>"Undoubtedly, they are magically fueled. The elves of my homeland use similar enchantments to light our halls. Though not so crass as flickering flames." Erevan's disembodied voice whispered. </p><p></p><p>Alaria was trying in vain to decipher the [what she assumed to be] "controls" for the teleportal circle on the dais. She was loathe to resort to magic to read the advanced sigils and runes. The day had severely depleted her energies for the day and she feared they would not be leaving this cursed mountain without at least one other fight. Still, as best she could tell...from their brief time outside the mountain, that the sun would not have set just yet.</p><p></p><p>Duor, to no one's notice, had wandered a bit further into the hall, taking in the carvings in the pillars. Other statues were placed around, most had been destroyed, smashed into various pieces by who knew what. He did note more than a few of the pieces and some of the bones of skeletons about seemed to be goblins and hobgoblins, as well as several that he presumed to be humans...or whatever it was those sorceress daughters from the dimensional realms had been.</p><p></p><p>"Think it's safe to say we're actually<em> in </em>Nor Gorthok now. We have to be getting close to the treasure. I can feel it in my beard." Duor wondered out loud. His voice carried quite a ways through the cavernous hall which caused several of his companions to cringe.</p><p></p><p>"Erevan's right, Duor...You are by far, the least, stealthy rogue I've ever encountered." Festus chastised to the dwarf who was somewhere he couldn't see.</p><p></p><p>Duor's head poked out from behind a pillar to retort, "And yer the least stealthy ranger, hoof-foot."</p><p></p><p>"Be still!" Erevan's voice hissed. If he'd been visible, the party might have noted the elf's ears twitch as an unseen sound caught his attention. </p><p></p><p>It was a...like a shuffle...like the sound of robes dragging upon the mostly dust-covered ground. It moved slowly. Almost a like a scrape to the elf's enhanced senses. There was another...maybe a third? Erevan could not be sure.</p><p></p><p>Then he saw a shadow cast upon one of the pillars some distance from them. It shuffled along, no speed to its moment. Erevan pointed in the direction and then realized that no one could see him!</p><p></p><p>"I hear it too, now." Festus said and quickly traded his dual blades for his short bow.</p><p></p><p>Then, about 30 feet into the chamber (by the party's vantage point) a figure, hunched over, came shambling into the light from behind a pillar.</p><p></p><p>Its flesh was entirely white and drawn close to its bones. A haphazard mess of course black hair sat upon its head, like a nest. Its clothing, which at one time might have been a fine gown or robe was so dirty and tattered as to make its original color of appearance unable to be discerned. Some jewelry hung from its thin neck and gaunt wrists. It looked at the party with cold but darkly intelligent eyes.</p><p></p><p>"WIGHT!" cried Haelan in alarm. His hand going immediately for his holy symbol.</p><p></p><p>The creature made no sudden or menacing movements. Merely continued to shamble toward the dais and stop some distance away.</p><p> </p><p>"How do you know?" Braddok asked. He'd never encountered a wight before.</p><p></p><p>"LOOK at it!" Haelan said in alarm. "It's WHITE!"</p><p></p><p>"Haelan, I don't think that's how..." Fen began to correct, though the druid's innate sensitivity to the abomination of undeath was rising in his hackles.</p><p></p><p>"What do you want heeeere?" said the scratchy hoarse voice.</p><p></p><p>"It talks!?!" Festus said in surprise. In their time together, Festus had never encountered an undead thing that could speak.</p><p></p><p>Duor, to everyone's surprise, strode out to within a few feet of the thing and replied in his most commanding tone. "We've come to relieve your master of his treasure. Where might that be, exactly?" the dwarf said, unabashed.</p><p></p><p>"Heh heheheh HA! Heeheeheeheeeee!" the thing laughed in response.</p><p></p><p>"You can't take the treasure. None can. Would you carry it all yourself little thieeeeef?" the once noble-woman of Gorathgraard replied.</p><p></p><p>"Don't you worry 'bout that. We'll make do." Duor said nonchalantly. "Now, where is it?"</p><p></p><p>"You should not beeee heeeere. There is naught but death in Gorarthgraarrrrrd." the wight said.</p><p></p><p>"Yeah. Yeah. We're heard it before. But here we are. Now, the treasure if you please." Duor said.</p><p></p><p>"Duor, get away, there are more than one!" Erevan's voice now raised through the hall a moment before the elf's form became visible again, firing arrows passed Duor on his left flank to slam into a column inches away from the crouching form of another of the hunched white figures.</p><p></p><p>The addressing wight seemed surprised by this assault and growled before she opened her fang filled mouth and shrieked at the top of her lungs.</p><p></p><p>"KREEEEEEEE! INTERLOPERS! INVADERS IN THE LORD'S THRONE! TO ARMS! DEFEND THE MASTER'S HALL!" again she let out a peeling shriek that echoed throughout the hall. </p><p></p><p>With that, several other of the hunched undead creatures bounded from behind or upon the pillars. Shadows of their forms could be seen against the columns in the distance of the hall.</p><p></p><p>Fen ran forward, his sacred spear blade bursting with the holy green aura to defend the Balance. Festus let fly two bolts from his short bow at the wight that Erevan had missed.</p><p></p><p>The creature jumped up onto another of the columns to avoid the first, the second sunk into the creature's shoulder.</p><p></p><p>Braddok ripped the blue-glowing bastard sword from its sheathe once more and charged for Duor even as the robed wight pounced with amazing speed at the nearby dwarf. </p><p></p><p>The rogue, anticipating an attack, easily evaded the creature's first swipe of its claws. The second, however, bit into his calf as he dove away.</p><p></p><p>Immediately an icy chill filled the dwarf's being. His strength seemed sapped away...like when those shadows attacked him. He recovered enough to roll away from another of the creature's who'd lept out of hiding.</p><p></p><p>"Lil' help now would be good, Hilltender." Duor shouted through clenched teeth as he drew his green glowing dagger and swiped at the new attacker.</p><p></p><p>The strike dug into the wight's reaching arm and it jumped back in surprise at the pain of the mystic blade's ethereal energies. The wound trailed a bit of green glowing "smoke." </p><p></p><p>Another wight pounced upon Festus' back as the satyr was again taking aim at the with across the hall from him. It's claws raked through his cloak and unarmored back. </p><p></p><p>The satyr cried out in pain as the unearthly cold filled his being and sapped his strength. </p><p></p><p>Erevan, in elvin grace, whirled about, whipping his long sword out of its scabbard and sliced into the creature atop Festus, sending it rolling away.</p><p></p><p>The ranger was not dead...yet...but nearly felt like Death itself was gripping his neck. Even getting back to his feet required a huge effort.</p><p></p><p>Two wight bounded for Fen and Braddok. The swordsman easily avoided their attacks. The sword in his his practically felt as if it were singing (?!) in his head as is bit deeply into one of them. </p><p></p><p>The thing did not die, but appeared sorely wounded.</p><p></p><p>The second swiped at the druid. Fen's half-elvin blood again came to his rescue as with a fluid grace to rival Erevan's, he whirled around passed its clawing attacks and swiped across its back with his spear's blade. It was wounded, though far from slain.</p><p></p><p>"Fen! Braddok! GET BACK!" Alaria called from the dais. The magess was not going to dare to go further into the chamber and released one of her few remaining lightning bolts from her staff. The electrical discharge flew through the chamber and blasted both of the creatures assaulting the warrior and druid. Both laid some tens of feet back away from where they'd stood, blackened and smoking. Neither rose again.</p><p></p><p> Erevan was now dancing around with the wight that had attacked Festus. The two traded minor blows against the other. UNfortunately, the wight's "minor" blows seemed to do quite a bit more damage to the elf than the other way around. But at least, thought the elf, its attention was off of the satyr.</p><p></p><p>Duor tried, in vain, to race toward the protection (or at least more advantageous position) of the dais only to be clawed and grabbed twice more by his two assailants.</p><p></p><p>"DAMMIT! Haelannn..." the dwarf felt as weak as the satyr. He tripped and fell after the second attack and could not muster the strength to rise again. Reaching in a panicked look toward the halfling and magess near the throne.</p><p></p><p>"FAERANTHA SHOWER THESE DEFILED SOULS IN YOUR GLORY! REMOVE THEIR UNHOLY PRESENCE FROM YOUR GRACE AND PROTECT YOUR LOYAL FOLLOWERS!" Haelan cried out, the pinecone shaped holy symbol held high above his head.</p><p></p><p>There was a momentary breath of a pause...enough for Alaria to question (and worry) that the plea would go unanswered. Then, the whole of area was bathed in the honey colored daylight emanating from the daelvar.</p><p></p><p>It seemed to "pulse" a bit, unlike any other time they'd seen the channeling effect. But with each pulse, threw its divine light further and further into the chamber until it reached just beyond where Duor laid on the ground.</p><p></p><p>The wight that had been fighting Erevan immediately threw up its arms as if to protect itself from the hateful holiness. It was, effectively "thrown" out of the area of the daelvar's light. The two about the rend Duor to shreds were also thrust away from the rogue. Rolling to a distance, just beyond the extent of the light. The creatures reeled in pain and smoked where the light had burned into their undead skin.</p><p></p><p>Even as the Hilltender strained, obviously, to maintain his field of protection, Braddok and Fen ran up to aid the dwarf to his feet and drag him toward the dais. Erevan did likewise with the severely wounded Festus.</p><p></p><p>"We need another way out of here! ANY way out of here!" Braddok shouted.</p><p></p><p>Alaria saw, with great alarm, the figures racing toward them from somewhere at the other end of the hall. They were roughly human sized, armored and baring weapons, long polearms mostly from what she could see.</p><p></p><p>Hobgoblins? They would not be kept at bay by the halfling's "turning."</p><p></p><p>Fen left Duor to the swordsman and turned at the goblinoid hoops and hollers. With a quickly cast incantation, vines and roots broke up through the floor of the hall in as long a line as he could muster, forming a "wall" of sorts among the first rank of the charging hobgoblin soliders. It wouldn't stop them for long. The rest would just have to go around the enchanted plants, but at least for a moment, they were halted.</p><p></p><p>"Alaria...I...I can't..." Haelan said with obvious strain in his voice.</p><p></p><p>"Just a another few moments, Haelan. Another few moments. You can do it!" Alaria cried in attempted assurance as she ran back to the console by the teleportal circle. She had no choice now. They needed to get out of here...wherever that might take them.</p><p></p><p>She quickly called to mind the spell for comprehending languages and hoped that it would show her what she <em>needed</em> to know.</p><p></p><p>The spell took effect and the sigils began to make sense to her. Then her attention was broken by the sound of something...splashing? and then the cries of pain and the acrid smell of sulphur and something else burning.</p><p></p><p>"NOOOO!!!!" Fen cried out. Utter agony filled his voice.</p><p></p><p>Alaria turned with a jump at the mournful sound to take in the scene in an instant. Braddok was helping Duor up onto the dais. A few steps behind, Fen stood, staring in horror at the melted blobs of bones and blood and tattered pieces of fabric, sitting in a pool of orange liquid that sizzled and steamed acrid fumes from the floor and twisted form.</p><p></p><p>Part of that form was the upper half of Erevan staring blankly, in complete shock, up at the dais...at her! The elf's mouth seemed to move weakly, though no sound escaped as his handsome face fell to the floor and began to disintegrate in the acid pool beneath him.</p><p></p><p>"Ooooohoohoo....Pink flesh....Silly pink flesh. I tooooold yooooou we'd play again soohoon. Ooooohoohoohoo." came an all too familiar lilting voice.</p><p></p><p>From behind the wall of entangling vines, circling down one of the columns like a snake and "clapping" its forearms together in glee, was the behir, Rach'sha.</p><p></p><p>Braddok had dragged Duor back to the teleportal circle and, more or less tossed him inside the inscribed runes. He ran back down to the druid who stood, staring in shock as the last of his <em>killi</em> dissolved before his tear filled eyes.</p><p></p><p>The large muscled human threw his strong arms around the half-elf and pulled away from the shock. Fen watched, but offered no resistance, even as Braddok dragged him up the stairs to the teleportal circle. Seeing Alaria, similarly, staring in shock, the warrior shouted at the magess in as commanding a tone as he could. "ALARIA! NOW! HURRY!"</p><p></p><p>The R'Hathi magess only half-heard the Grinlian swordsman. She only half noticed as the daylike honey colored light subsided. and the wights took up positions with the advancing hobgoblins who only slowly neared the dais as the behir coiled his way down the rest of the column behind the lines of hobgoblin soldiers.</p><p></p><p>It was only the faint tug on the sleeve of her robe that caused Alaria to look, dumbly, down at Haelan's tear-filled eyes.</p><p></p><p>"Alaria, we have to go. We have to go now." Haelan chocked through his tears gently.</p><p></p><p>The image from Alaria's spell sleep burst into her mind and she was again 100% in this room...this room of death and defeat and doom.</p><p></p><p>"Yes! Yes of course."</p><p></p><p>Holding Fen tightly in his grip, Braddok watched as Haelan backed into the circle and Alaria, with another glance at the console, pressed a few of the curious shaped crystals.</p><p></p><p>"Come now, pink flesh...can't get out that way." said the behir. "Surrender and we can go back to my lair to play some more. I promise."</p><p></p><p>"Yes, Rach'sha. We shall play again. But not this day." Alaria replied, her voice full of threat.</p><p></p><p>The behir gave a command in some language and the hobgoblins and wights raced for the dais.</p><p></p><p>"THREZAS KAZKREL, Bridgetower!" Alaria commanded.</p><p></p><p>In a burst of violet light the companions were gone from the great hall of Nor Gorthok.</p><p></p><p>As the wisps of purple energy trailed off where they had stood and the hobgoblins turned to look, confused at the behir, Rach'sha merely said, more to himself than any of the other, "Hunh. Guess you<em> can</em> get out that way."</p><p></p><p>*</p><p></p><p>The party felt the esoteric "banging" of striking an unseen barrier. In the corners of her mind, Alaria recalled that the tower of Bridgetower was barred from magical intrusion, as was the whole of the keep of the Dragonmage (which was why she'd elected for Bridgetower instead). </p><p></p><p>The party materialized just outside the tower, upon the wide bridge that spanned the river D'Evand, connecting the gatehouse to the tower itself.</p><p></p><p>Braddok looked around in alarm as blue-tabbarded guards came racing up to their position from either side. The warrior had never been in Bridgetower and, at first, was concerned they were in for another fight or capture.</p><p></p><p>"It's alright, Braddok. We're safe. These are friends." Haelan said gently to the warrior. But enough to cause the swordsman to lower his weapon.</p><p></p><p>Alaira looked blankly at the guard who demanded to know who they were before a familiar moustached sergeant...or was he a lieutenant now?...pushed his way through...</p><p></p><p>"Magess?" the man said. "Stand down! Stand down! The Stormriders are returned to Bridgetower!" the man commanded his men.</p><p></p><p>Alaria nodded weakly and then collapsed into wracking sobs.</p><p></p><p>Braddok moved to console her and looked with sorrow at the face of the lieutenant who moved forward to do the same. The seasoned veteran did not need any explanation from the swordsman.</p><p></p><p>Fen just stared off the bridge, on his knees. The tears flowed silently down his cheeks in the waning light of the evening.</p><p></p><p>"Fen...I can't...I don't know...I'm so sorry." Haelan said quietly with a hand upon the druid's shoulder. If Fen heard the Hilltender's gentle condolence he made no indication. He simply stared down the length of the Silver River and cried in silence.</p><p></p><p>"Call the Daughters! Summon Old Midge!" called lieutenant Goren.</p><p></p><p>The priestesses of the healing goddess, Gilea, were quick to arrive.</p><p></p><p>As the rosy light slipped from the day, the remaining Stormriders were attended and ushered, gently, into the Tower.</p><p></p><p><<em>Author/DM's note: Not all paths lead to riches and glory, dear readers, and the Stormriders know/knew that better than most. Not every foe is able to be defeated at all times. Sometimes you get lucky...and our troupe has been many many times. But, sometimes...you don't.</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>R.I.P. Erevan and Festus. You were great characters in this saga of Orea and were/would be missed. Yes, this means they're gone "for good." The party, at this point, was not nearly powerful or rich enough to bring them back without a body. Twas a dark day [session] for the Stormriders, indeed.</em> <em>One of my worst/saddest, on record, as a DM.</em>></p><p></p><p>EDIT: Just realized I relayed this entire "episode" with no mention of Mister Meeessh. Well, it might come as little surprise that Meeessh is essentially a "cohort" or "follower", to use the vernacular, for Alaria, though not technically a "familiar." It can be assumed that Meeessh is hiding behind Alaria's robe/skirts throughout this encounter...and upon their arrival in Bridgetower, was told that he's "ok"/not to mess with him./EDIT</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="steeldragons, post: 5970489, member: 92511"] The company stood, tense and battle-ready, as the purple light and remaining energies floated off of them like smoke. Their initial expectation of meeting with resistance soon faded as they came to realize the figures they saw "standing" about the huge pillared hall did not move. The whole place flickered in the light of many braziers and torches set in sconces along the innumerable pillars that extended far above them into shadow. They stood upon a dais at one end of this chamber. Not far from them sat an immense throne of crystal. The back of the throne was shaped like a great swan. Its long neck arched up over and looked down upon the seat of the throne. Two outstretched wings flanked the back of the throne. The whole thing glittered with a thousand facets in the flaming light. Sensing no imminent danger, movement or sound, the party spread out cautiously to take in their immediate vicinity. The pillars and hall seemed to extend beyond their vision to either side of the throned dais and stretched out before them into a forest of carved columns. Any entrance to the hall was far beyond their view, though the flickering glow of unseen torches could be seen for some way. Festus and a still invisible Erevan padded their way to the nearest of the pillars. They revealed a multitude of figures and carvings. Swans, birds, vines and trees with squirrels and songbirds climbing among them. In several places, carvings had been vandalized, either smashed in places or scrawled with black smears. There were several skeletons that appeared to be long bound and/or "pressed"[I] into[/I] the columns. Braddok stayed near Alaria who was examining a small console of stone that was raised near the circle they'd just appeared in. It was akin to the console in the teleportal chamber in Daenfrii. Alaria hoped against hope that it might prove a direct exit for them...if she could decipher how to operate it. Haelan and Fen were most interested in the crystal throne. The druid wandered down the few steps of the dais to examine the closest "figure" standing near the bottom step. It was a statue of am man. Rather tall and regal looking. The detail of his finery and face were uncanny. A neatly trimmed beard and bejeweled crown about his brow lent to his noble appearance. He was partially turned, as if looking back at the throne. A mild look of surprise or questioning on his face. "I think we've found Lord Gorathiel." the druid said quietly. "Haelan, do you or Fen sense anything here?" Braddok asked in a hushed tone. The daelvar and half-elf confirmed that the pressing "evilness" of the demons' alcoves was not present here. Just the foreboding shadows of the unseen ceiling and a general staleness in the air. The whole place just felt...and smelled "musty." Not even a whiff of smoke from all of the fires burning. A fact that Festus and Haelan found odd. "Undoubtedly, they are magically fueled. The elves of my homeland use similar enchantments to light our halls. Though not so crass as flickering flames." Erevan's disembodied voice whispered. Alaria was trying in vain to decipher the [what she assumed to be] "controls" for the teleportal circle on the dais. She was loathe to resort to magic to read the advanced sigils and runes. The day had severely depleted her energies for the day and she feared they would not be leaving this cursed mountain without at least one other fight. Still, as best she could tell...from their brief time outside the mountain, that the sun would not have set just yet. Duor, to no one's notice, had wandered a bit further into the hall, taking in the carvings in the pillars. Other statues were placed around, most had been destroyed, smashed into various pieces by who knew what. He did note more than a few of the pieces and some of the bones of skeletons about seemed to be goblins and hobgoblins, as well as several that he presumed to be humans...or whatever it was those sorceress daughters from the dimensional realms had been. "Think it's safe to say we're actually[I] in [/I]Nor Gorthok now. We have to be getting close to the treasure. I can feel it in my beard." Duor wondered out loud. His voice carried quite a ways through the cavernous hall which caused several of his companions to cringe. "Erevan's right, Duor...You are by far, the least, stealthy rogue I've ever encountered." Festus chastised to the dwarf who was somewhere he couldn't see. Duor's head poked out from behind a pillar to retort, "And yer the least stealthy ranger, hoof-foot." "Be still!" Erevan's voice hissed. If he'd been visible, the party might have noted the elf's ears twitch as an unseen sound caught his attention. It was a...like a shuffle...like the sound of robes dragging upon the mostly dust-covered ground. It moved slowly. Almost a like a scrape to the elf's enhanced senses. There was another...maybe a third? Erevan could not be sure. Then he saw a shadow cast upon one of the pillars some distance from them. It shuffled along, no speed to its moment. Erevan pointed in the direction and then realized that no one could see him! "I hear it too, now." Festus said and quickly traded his dual blades for his short bow. Then, about 30 feet into the chamber (by the party's vantage point) a figure, hunched over, came shambling into the light from behind a pillar. Its flesh was entirely white and drawn close to its bones. A haphazard mess of course black hair sat upon its head, like a nest. Its clothing, which at one time might have been a fine gown or robe was so dirty and tattered as to make its original color of appearance unable to be discerned. Some jewelry hung from its thin neck and gaunt wrists. It looked at the party with cold but darkly intelligent eyes. "WIGHT!" cried Haelan in alarm. His hand going immediately for his holy symbol. The creature made no sudden or menacing movements. Merely continued to shamble toward the dais and stop some distance away. "How do you know?" Braddok asked. He'd never encountered a wight before. "LOOK at it!" Haelan said in alarm. "It's WHITE!" "Haelan, I don't think that's how..." Fen began to correct, though the druid's innate sensitivity to the abomination of undeath was rising in his hackles. "What do you want heeeere?" said the scratchy hoarse voice. "It talks!?!" Festus said in surprise. In their time together, Festus had never encountered an undead thing that could speak. Duor, to everyone's surprise, strode out to within a few feet of the thing and replied in his most commanding tone. "We've come to relieve your master of his treasure. Where might that be, exactly?" the dwarf said, unabashed. "Heh heheheh HA! Heeheeheeheeeee!" the thing laughed in response. "You can't take the treasure. None can. Would you carry it all yourself little thieeeeef?" the once noble-woman of Gorathgraard replied. "Don't you worry 'bout that. We'll make do." Duor said nonchalantly. "Now, where is it?" "You should not beeee heeeere. There is naught but death in Gorarthgraarrrrrd." the wight said. "Yeah. Yeah. We're heard it before. But here we are. Now, the treasure if you please." Duor said. "Duor, get away, there are more than one!" Erevan's voice now raised through the hall a moment before the elf's form became visible again, firing arrows passed Duor on his left flank to slam into a column inches away from the crouching form of another of the hunched white figures. The addressing wight seemed surprised by this assault and growled before she opened her fang filled mouth and shrieked at the top of her lungs. "KREEEEEEEE! INTERLOPERS! INVADERS IN THE LORD'S THRONE! TO ARMS! DEFEND THE MASTER'S HALL!" again she let out a peeling shriek that echoed throughout the hall. With that, several other of the hunched undead creatures bounded from behind or upon the pillars. Shadows of their forms could be seen against the columns in the distance of the hall. Fen ran forward, his sacred spear blade bursting with the holy green aura to defend the Balance. Festus let fly two bolts from his short bow at the wight that Erevan had missed. The creature jumped up onto another of the columns to avoid the first, the second sunk into the creature's shoulder. Braddok ripped the blue-glowing bastard sword from its sheathe once more and charged for Duor even as the robed wight pounced with amazing speed at the nearby dwarf. The rogue, anticipating an attack, easily evaded the creature's first swipe of its claws. The second, however, bit into his calf as he dove away. Immediately an icy chill filled the dwarf's being. His strength seemed sapped away...like when those shadows attacked him. He recovered enough to roll away from another of the creature's who'd lept out of hiding. "Lil' help now would be good, Hilltender." Duor shouted through clenched teeth as he drew his green glowing dagger and swiped at the new attacker. The strike dug into the wight's reaching arm and it jumped back in surprise at the pain of the mystic blade's ethereal energies. The wound trailed a bit of green glowing "smoke." Another wight pounced upon Festus' back as the satyr was again taking aim at the with across the hall from him. It's claws raked through his cloak and unarmored back. The satyr cried out in pain as the unearthly cold filled his being and sapped his strength. Erevan, in elvin grace, whirled about, whipping his long sword out of its scabbard and sliced into the creature atop Festus, sending it rolling away. The ranger was not dead...yet...but nearly felt like Death itself was gripping his neck. Even getting back to his feet required a huge effort. Two wight bounded for Fen and Braddok. The swordsman easily avoided their attacks. The sword in his his practically felt as if it were singing (?!) in his head as is bit deeply into one of them. The thing did not die, but appeared sorely wounded. The second swiped at the druid. Fen's half-elvin blood again came to his rescue as with a fluid grace to rival Erevan's, he whirled around passed its clawing attacks and swiped across its back with his spear's blade. It was wounded, though far from slain. "Fen! Braddok! GET BACK!" Alaria called from the dais. The magess was not going to dare to go further into the chamber and released one of her few remaining lightning bolts from her staff. The electrical discharge flew through the chamber and blasted both of the creatures assaulting the warrior and druid. Both laid some tens of feet back away from where they'd stood, blackened and smoking. Neither rose again. Erevan was now dancing around with the wight that had attacked Festus. The two traded minor blows against the other. UNfortunately, the wight's "minor" blows seemed to do quite a bit more damage to the elf than the other way around. But at least, thought the elf, its attention was off of the satyr. Duor tried, in vain, to race toward the protection (or at least more advantageous position) of the dais only to be clawed and grabbed twice more by his two assailants. "DAMMIT! Haelannn..." the dwarf felt as weak as the satyr. He tripped and fell after the second attack and could not muster the strength to rise again. Reaching in a panicked look toward the halfling and magess near the throne. "FAERANTHA SHOWER THESE DEFILED SOULS IN YOUR GLORY! REMOVE THEIR UNHOLY PRESENCE FROM YOUR GRACE AND PROTECT YOUR LOYAL FOLLOWERS!" Haelan cried out, the pinecone shaped holy symbol held high above his head. There was a momentary breath of a pause...enough for Alaria to question (and worry) that the plea would go unanswered. Then, the whole of area was bathed in the honey colored daylight emanating from the daelvar. It seemed to "pulse" a bit, unlike any other time they'd seen the channeling effect. But with each pulse, threw its divine light further and further into the chamber until it reached just beyond where Duor laid on the ground. The wight that had been fighting Erevan immediately threw up its arms as if to protect itself from the hateful holiness. It was, effectively "thrown" out of the area of the daelvar's light. The two about the rend Duor to shreds were also thrust away from the rogue. Rolling to a distance, just beyond the extent of the light. The creatures reeled in pain and smoked where the light had burned into their undead skin. Even as the Hilltender strained, obviously, to maintain his field of protection, Braddok and Fen ran up to aid the dwarf to his feet and drag him toward the dais. Erevan did likewise with the severely wounded Festus. "We need another way out of here! ANY way out of here!" Braddok shouted. Alaria saw, with great alarm, the figures racing toward them from somewhere at the other end of the hall. They were roughly human sized, armored and baring weapons, long polearms mostly from what she could see. Hobgoblins? They would not be kept at bay by the halfling's "turning." Fen left Duor to the swordsman and turned at the goblinoid hoops and hollers. With a quickly cast incantation, vines and roots broke up through the floor of the hall in as long a line as he could muster, forming a "wall" of sorts among the first rank of the charging hobgoblin soliders. It wouldn't stop them for long. The rest would just have to go around the enchanted plants, but at least for a moment, they were halted. "Alaria...I...I can't..." Haelan said with obvious strain in his voice. "Just a another few moments, Haelan. Another few moments. You can do it!" Alaria cried in attempted assurance as she ran back to the console by the teleportal circle. She had no choice now. They needed to get out of here...wherever that might take them. She quickly called to mind the spell for comprehending languages and hoped that it would show her what she [I]needed[/I] to know. The spell took effect and the sigils began to make sense to her. Then her attention was broken by the sound of something...splashing? and then the cries of pain and the acrid smell of sulphur and something else burning. "NOOOO!!!!" Fen cried out. Utter agony filled his voice. Alaria turned with a jump at the mournful sound to take in the scene in an instant. Braddok was helping Duor up onto the dais. A few steps behind, Fen stood, staring in horror at the melted blobs of bones and blood and tattered pieces of fabric, sitting in a pool of orange liquid that sizzled and steamed acrid fumes from the floor and twisted form. Part of that form was the upper half of Erevan staring blankly, in complete shock, up at the dais...at her! The elf's mouth seemed to move weakly, though no sound escaped as his handsome face fell to the floor and began to disintegrate in the acid pool beneath him. "Ooooohoohoo....Pink flesh....Silly pink flesh. I tooooold yooooou we'd play again soohoon. Ooooohoohoohoo." came an all too familiar lilting voice. From behind the wall of entangling vines, circling down one of the columns like a snake and "clapping" its forearms together in glee, was the behir, Rach'sha. Braddok had dragged Duor back to the teleportal circle and, more or less tossed him inside the inscribed runes. He ran back down to the druid who stood, staring in shock as the last of his [I]killi[/I] dissolved before his tear filled eyes. The large muscled human threw his strong arms around the half-elf and pulled away from the shock. Fen watched, but offered no resistance, even as Braddok dragged him up the stairs to the teleportal circle. Seeing Alaria, similarly, staring in shock, the warrior shouted at the magess in as commanding a tone as he could. "ALARIA! NOW! HURRY!" The R'Hathi magess only half-heard the Grinlian swordsman. She only half noticed as the daylike honey colored light subsided. and the wights took up positions with the advancing hobgoblins who only slowly neared the dais as the behir coiled his way down the rest of the column behind the lines of hobgoblin soldiers. It was only the faint tug on the sleeve of her robe that caused Alaria to look, dumbly, down at Haelan's tear-filled eyes. "Alaria, we have to go. We have to go now." Haelan chocked through his tears gently. The image from Alaria's spell sleep burst into her mind and she was again 100% in this room...this room of death and defeat and doom. "Yes! Yes of course." Holding Fen tightly in his grip, Braddok watched as Haelan backed into the circle and Alaria, with another glance at the console, pressed a few of the curious shaped crystals. "Come now, pink flesh...can't get out that way." said the behir. "Surrender and we can go back to my lair to play some more. I promise." "Yes, Rach'sha. We shall play again. But not this day." Alaria replied, her voice full of threat. The behir gave a command in some language and the hobgoblins and wights raced for the dais. "THREZAS KAZKREL, Bridgetower!" Alaria commanded. In a burst of violet light the companions were gone from the great hall of Nor Gorthok. As the wisps of purple energy trailed off where they had stood and the hobgoblins turned to look, confused at the behir, Rach'sha merely said, more to himself than any of the other, "Hunh. Guess you[I] can[/I] get out that way." * The party felt the esoteric "banging" of striking an unseen barrier. In the corners of her mind, Alaria recalled that the tower of Bridgetower was barred from magical intrusion, as was the whole of the keep of the Dragonmage (which was why she'd elected for Bridgetower instead). The party materialized just outside the tower, upon the wide bridge that spanned the river D'Evand, connecting the gatehouse to the tower itself. Braddok looked around in alarm as blue-tabbarded guards came racing up to their position from either side. The warrior had never been in Bridgetower and, at first, was concerned they were in for another fight or capture. "It's alright, Braddok. We're safe. These are friends." Haelan said gently to the warrior. But enough to cause the swordsman to lower his weapon. Alaira looked blankly at the guard who demanded to know who they were before a familiar moustached sergeant...or was he a lieutenant now?...pushed his way through... "Magess?" the man said. "Stand down! Stand down! The Stormriders are returned to Bridgetower!" the man commanded his men. Alaria nodded weakly and then collapsed into wracking sobs. Braddok moved to console her and looked with sorrow at the face of the lieutenant who moved forward to do the same. The seasoned veteran did not need any explanation from the swordsman. Fen just stared off the bridge, on his knees. The tears flowed silently down his cheeks in the waning light of the evening. "Fen...I can't...I don't know...I'm so sorry." Haelan said quietly with a hand upon the druid's shoulder. If Fen heard the Hilltender's gentle condolence he made no indication. He simply stared down the length of the Silver River and cried in silence. "Call the Daughters! Summon Old Midge!" called lieutenant Goren. The priestesses of the healing goddess, Gilea, were quick to arrive. As the rosy light slipped from the day, the remaining Stormriders were attended and ushered, gently, into the Tower. <[I]Author/DM's note: Not all paths lead to riches and glory, dear readers, and the Stormriders know/knew that better than most. Not every foe is able to be defeated at all times. Sometimes you get lucky...and our troupe has been many many times. But, sometimes...you don't. R.I.P. Erevan and Festus. You were great characters in this saga of Orea and were/would be missed. Yes, this means they're gone "for good." The party, at this point, was not nearly powerful or rich enough to bring them back without a body. Twas a dark day [session] for the Stormriders, indeed.[/I] [I]One of my worst/saddest, on record, as a DM.[/I]> EDIT: Just realized I relayed this entire "episode" with no mention of Mister Meeessh. Well, it might come as little surprise that Meeessh is essentially a "cohort" or "follower", to use the vernacular, for Alaria, though not technically a "familiar." It can be assumed that Meeessh is hiding behind Alaria's robe/skirts throughout this encounter...and upon their arrival in Bridgetower, was told that he's "ok"/not to mess with him./EDIT [/QUOTE]
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