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Story Hour
The Fall of Civilization
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<blockquote data-quote="the Jester" data-source="post: 7470852" data-attributes="member: 1210"><p>The Abyssal flames that engulf our heroes are greasy and foul. They are the flames of burning fat and hair, full of dusty incinerated bones. Our heroes gag and stagger, and then the zombies are among them, grabbing at them with ragged, dried fingers. </p><p></p><p>And then Arawn charges into their midst, unleashing a <em>rain of dark blows</em> that delivers terrific damage to Heimall, Vann-La, and Shakgar. Sickly green flashes occur with each hit, making their faces look sickly and ill.</p><p></p><p>The tide of undead is momentarily overwhelming, and nearly pulls the party down. But then Hkatha and Iggy blast groups of the zombies back, knocking them down like tenpins and giving the rest of the heroes of Fandelose some breathing room. But the zombies begin to bestir themselves at once, clambering back to their feet and staggering toward the party. </p><p></p><p>Meanwhile, Vann-La and Shakgar unleash a series of tremendous blows on Arawn the Black. Unfortunately, the death knight shrugs them off, unharmed. </p><p></p><p>Pale, bone-colored light radiates from beneath his goat-faced helm. “Fools! You cannot harm me! I am driven by righteousness! I will have my vengeance!”</p><p></p><p>“You already do!” retorts Heimall. “You've pulled down the empire! What more do you want?”</p><p></p><p>“As long as one of your kind remains alive, my revenge is not complete!”</p><p></p><p>Hkatha casts <em>fly</em> on himself while Iggy blasts the death knight with a shot from his pistol, enahanced by his gun magic. But nothing harms him. </p><p></p><p>“Back down the stairs!” Heimall cries. </p><p></p><p>“We'll cover you!” Vann-La slams a zombie down.</p><p></p><p>“I'm gonna dunk on you!” Shakgar smashes another, then steps next to Vann-La and turns to face the oncoming undead.</p><p></p><p>The others retreat into the bedchamber below. Heimall says, “As long as Arawn has something to avenge, we aren't going to be able to stop him. We need to lay Dawn to rest somehow.”</p><p></p><p>Torinn nods. “Agreed. But how?”</p><p></p><p>Up above, the ground is littered with slain zombies. But each one reanimates, dragging itself up to face the two heroes valiantly defending the stairway. Arawn, surrounded by his minions, slashes right and left at both of them, his blade leaving a trail of ghastly light in the air behind it. </p><p></p><p>Vann-La and Shakgar begin to fall back themselves, descending the stairs. Arawn pauses, allowing his zombies to pour down the staircase after them before following them. </p><p></p><p>In the bedchamber, Cook asks, “How can we lay her to rest with no body?”</p><p></p><p>“Maybe there's something we can use in here,” Hkatha says, looking around. </p><p></p><p>“Wait!” Heimall exclaims. “She was Forinthian, right? They had a custom of making death masks after someone died. And they would have cremated her body and mixed the ashes in with the pigments they used to paint her mask.”</p><p></p><p>Even as Vann-La and Shakgar back into the room, pressed by more zombies, the party starts to search for the mask. But Heimall cries, “Not here! It would be kept in a place with religious iconography. That sun symbol in the ceiling below us!”</p><p></p><p>Our heroes fall back again, descending another level. </p><p></p><p>But the zombies they slew on their approach have now reached that chamber, and are starting to pour in. </p><p></p><p>“Damn!” Iggy swears. He unleashes a <em>fireball</em>, stopping them from approaching for the moment. </p><p></p><p>“We need to search that symbol!” cries Heimall, pointing at the sun in the ceiling. </p><p></p><p>Hkatha, still flying, grabs Cook and ascends with him. “I'll hold you, you search!”</p><p></p><p><em>Killing Spree</em> moans in Vann-La's hand as she hews zombie after zombie down. Heimall has turned to aid her and Shakgar from behind them, using his magical glaive to great effect. Yet after a moment, each felled zombie rises again. </p><p></p><p>And behind the growing press comes Arawn. </p><p></p><p>At the ceiling, Cook's blunt, fire-scarred fingers probe delicately until he finds a hidden lock. He pulls out his thieves' tools and works at it. After a few moments, there's a click. “Got it!” he exclaims. </p><p></p><p>With only the barest noise, a cylinder of stone that was directly above the sun symbol begins to extrude from the ceiling. It projects downward about 3' before stopping. </p><p></p><p>“Can you hold on to that?” asks Hkatha. Cook nods and grabs the stone cylinder, clinging to it as Hkatha turns and prepares to cast another spell. But he pauses for an instant as he realizes that the ones that Iggy <em>fireballed</em> haven't yet stirred back to unlife. </p><p></p><p>“Fire!” he shouts. “Fire destroyes the minions!”</p><p></p><p>Shakgar cries out and collapses as a blade spitting green light catches him in the neck. Arawn has arrived. </p><p></p><p>Cook resolutely ignores him. The exposed side of the cylinder has another locked panel on it. He grasps the cylinder with his thighs, hanging upside-down, as he attacks the lock. Below him- though it sounds like they're above- he can hear Heimall shouting encouragement, the sizzle of the death knight's sword, the whisper of weapons passing through air, the thunk of them cutting flesh and bone. The stink of burnt flesh as the wizards begin to unleash more fire magic, finally lessening the pressure of the zombies.</p><p></p><p><em>Click.</em> There! The panel springs open, and Cook reaches in carefully. Almost reverently, he extracts the death mask within. It is her face, all right. This is, indeed, Dawn's mask.</p><p></p><p>Ligir and Hkatha are furiously blasting the zombies, and Shakgar, revived by Heimall's <em>inspiring word</em> yet hardly standing, joins them, letting Heimall, Summer, and Vann-La form a wall against Arawn. Even so, they cannot seem to hurt him, and the death knight is quite capable of hurting them. Summer is forced to retreat.</p><p></p><p>Their adversary spies the mask in Cook's hand. “HOW DARE YOU!!” he shrieks, and tries to press forward, but Vann-La throws him back. </p><p></p><p>“Oops!” says Cook, and drops nimbly to the ground, landing on his feet. He glances over at Heimall. “Now what?”</p><p></p><p>Torinn hurries over. “We need to lay her to rest. To do that, we have to invoke her spirit first.” He begins muttering prayers to Lester. Heimall falls back to advise him; the warlord knows old Forinthian customs fairly well. </p><p></p><p>But that leaves Vann-La alone against Arawn. <em>Killing Spree</em> moves like the wind, a red blur to match the green of Arawn's blade, as the two trade blows.</p><p></p><p>Then the death knight gives out an anguished cry as the spirit of Dawn shivers into view.</p><p></p><p>“Dawn!” Torinn cries. “You've got to let go! Let yourself rest!”</p><p></p><p>“Betrayed,” she whispers. “I was betrayed.”</p><p></p><p>“My love,” Arawn groans, stricken.</p><p></p><p>“And you have been more than avenged,” says Heimall. “The empire has fallen. Civilization is gone. The civilized races are near extinction. Surely this isn't what you want.”</p><p></p><p>“No...” she moans. “No.”</p><p></p><p>“You must rest,” says Cook. “See what has become of the man you love? Your loss has made him crazy. You must rest so that he can rest.”</p><p></p><p>“Ohhh...” She puts her ghostly face into her hands.</p><p></p><p>Raging, screaming, Arawn renews his attack. But as vicious, as frantic, as he is, there is something new in his manner- something febrile, brittle. Nonetheless, Arawn drives Vann-La to one knee. </p><p></p><p>And then the <em>Silver Rose of Garnet</em> speaks. “Dawn! Do you remember me? We journeyed far together. I loved you. I helped you overcome many challenges. Let me help you once more. Let me help you find peace. You have to let go, Dawn.”</p><p></p><p>“You see that?” Heimall gestures at Arawn. “That is what the man you loved has become.” </p><p></p><p>“Let go,” Torinn says, “and help us help him.”</p><p></p><p>The apparition grows ever thinner until, with a distant, echoing sob, it vanishes entirely. </p><p></p><p>Arawn cries out again, a sound of despair ripped from his hollow depths.</p><p></p><p>Our heroes, having the momentary advantage, press it. Heimall rushes forward and stabs. Cook leaps to the attack with his frying pan. Iggy fires his pistol. Hkatha blasts the death knight with a volley of <em>magic missiles</em>. </p><p></p><p>Arawn staggers. A hollow moan rises up from his armor. The sword clangs to the ground. Then his goat-faced helm falls off, as if it had been suspended in mid-air above the armor. And then the armor collapses in a heap. </p><p></p><p>All around them, the zombies collapse without a sound. This time, they do not stir again.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="the Jester, post: 7470852, member: 1210"] The Abyssal flames that engulf our heroes are greasy and foul. They are the flames of burning fat and hair, full of dusty incinerated bones. Our heroes gag and stagger, and then the zombies are among them, grabbing at them with ragged, dried fingers. And then Arawn charges into their midst, unleashing a [i]rain of dark blows[/i] that delivers terrific damage to Heimall, Vann-La, and Shakgar. Sickly green flashes occur with each hit, making their faces look sickly and ill. The tide of undead is momentarily overwhelming, and nearly pulls the party down. But then Hkatha and Iggy blast groups of the zombies back, knocking them down like tenpins and giving the rest of the heroes of Fandelose some breathing room. But the zombies begin to bestir themselves at once, clambering back to their feet and staggering toward the party. Meanwhile, Vann-La and Shakgar unleash a series of tremendous blows on Arawn the Black. Unfortunately, the death knight shrugs them off, unharmed. Pale, bone-colored light radiates from beneath his goat-faced helm. “Fools! You cannot harm me! I am driven by righteousness! I will have my vengeance!” “You already do!” retorts Heimall. “You've pulled down the empire! What more do you want?” “As long as one of your kind remains alive, my revenge is not complete!” Hkatha casts [i]fly[/i] on himself while Iggy blasts the death knight with a shot from his pistol, enahanced by his gun magic. But nothing harms him. “Back down the stairs!” Heimall cries. “We'll cover you!” Vann-La slams a zombie down. “I'm gonna dunk on you!” Shakgar smashes another, then steps next to Vann-La and turns to face the oncoming undead. The others retreat into the bedchamber below. Heimall says, “As long as Arawn has something to avenge, we aren't going to be able to stop him. We need to lay Dawn to rest somehow.” Torinn nods. “Agreed. But how?” Up above, the ground is littered with slain zombies. But each one reanimates, dragging itself up to face the two heroes valiantly defending the stairway. Arawn, surrounded by his minions, slashes right and left at both of them, his blade leaving a trail of ghastly light in the air behind it. Vann-La and Shakgar begin to fall back themselves, descending the stairs. Arawn pauses, allowing his zombies to pour down the staircase after them before following them. In the bedchamber, Cook asks, “How can we lay her to rest with no body?” “Maybe there's something we can use in here,” Hkatha says, looking around. “Wait!” Heimall exclaims. “She was Forinthian, right? They had a custom of making death masks after someone died. And they would have cremated her body and mixed the ashes in with the pigments they used to paint her mask.” Even as Vann-La and Shakgar back into the room, pressed by more zombies, the party starts to search for the mask. But Heimall cries, “Not here! It would be kept in a place with religious iconography. That sun symbol in the ceiling below us!” Our heroes fall back again, descending another level. But the zombies they slew on their approach have now reached that chamber, and are starting to pour in. “Damn!” Iggy swears. He unleashes a [i]fireball[/i], stopping them from approaching for the moment. “We need to search that symbol!” cries Heimall, pointing at the sun in the ceiling. Hkatha, still flying, grabs Cook and ascends with him. “I'll hold you, you search!” [i]Killing Spree[/i] moans in Vann-La's hand as she hews zombie after zombie down. Heimall has turned to aid her and Shakgar from behind them, using his magical glaive to great effect. Yet after a moment, each felled zombie rises again. And behind the growing press comes Arawn. At the ceiling, Cook's blunt, fire-scarred fingers probe delicately until he finds a hidden lock. He pulls out his thieves' tools and works at it. After a few moments, there's a click. “Got it!” he exclaims. With only the barest noise, a cylinder of stone that was directly above the sun symbol begins to extrude from the ceiling. It projects downward about 3' before stopping. “Can you hold on to that?” asks Hkatha. Cook nods and grabs the stone cylinder, clinging to it as Hkatha turns and prepares to cast another spell. But he pauses for an instant as he realizes that the ones that Iggy [i]fireballed[/i] haven't yet stirred back to unlife. “Fire!” he shouts. “Fire destroyes the minions!” Shakgar cries out and collapses as a blade spitting green light catches him in the neck. Arawn has arrived. Cook resolutely ignores him. The exposed side of the cylinder has another locked panel on it. He grasps the cylinder with his thighs, hanging upside-down, as he attacks the lock. Below him- though it sounds like they're above- he can hear Heimall shouting encouragement, the sizzle of the death knight's sword, the whisper of weapons passing through air, the thunk of them cutting flesh and bone. The stink of burnt flesh as the wizards begin to unleash more fire magic, finally lessening the pressure of the zombies. [i]Click.[/i] There! The panel springs open, and Cook reaches in carefully. Almost reverently, he extracts the death mask within. It is her face, all right. This is, indeed, Dawn's mask. Ligir and Hkatha are furiously blasting the zombies, and Shakgar, revived by Heimall's [i]inspiring word[/i] yet hardly standing, joins them, letting Heimall, Summer, and Vann-La form a wall against Arawn. Even so, they cannot seem to hurt him, and the death knight is quite capable of hurting them. Summer is forced to retreat. Their adversary spies the mask in Cook's hand. “HOW DARE YOU!!” he shrieks, and tries to press forward, but Vann-La throws him back. “Oops!” says Cook, and drops nimbly to the ground, landing on his feet. He glances over at Heimall. “Now what?” Torinn hurries over. “We need to lay her to rest. To do that, we have to invoke her spirit first.” He begins muttering prayers to Lester. Heimall falls back to advise him; the warlord knows old Forinthian customs fairly well. But that leaves Vann-La alone against Arawn. [i]Killing Spree[/i] moves like the wind, a red blur to match the green of Arawn's blade, as the two trade blows. Then the death knight gives out an anguished cry as the spirit of Dawn shivers into view. “Dawn!” Torinn cries. “You've got to let go! Let yourself rest!” “Betrayed,” she whispers. “I was betrayed.” “My love,” Arawn groans, stricken. “And you have been more than avenged,” says Heimall. “The empire has fallen. Civilization is gone. The civilized races are near extinction. Surely this isn't what you want.” “No...” she moans. “No.” “You must rest,” says Cook. “See what has become of the man you love? Your loss has made him crazy. You must rest so that he can rest.” “Ohhh...” She puts her ghostly face into her hands. Raging, screaming, Arawn renews his attack. But as vicious, as frantic, as he is, there is something new in his manner- something febrile, brittle. Nonetheless, Arawn drives Vann-La to one knee. And then the [i]Silver Rose of Garnet[/i] speaks. “Dawn! Do you remember me? We journeyed far together. I loved you. I helped you overcome many challenges. Let me help you once more. Let me help you find peace. You have to let go, Dawn.” “You see that?” Heimall gestures at Arawn. “That is what the man you loved has become.” “Let go,” Torinn says, “and help us help him.” The apparition grows ever thinner until, with a distant, echoing sob, it vanishes entirely. Arawn cries out again, a sound of despair ripped from his hollow depths. Our heroes, having the momentary advantage, press it. Heimall rushes forward and stabs. Cook leaps to the attack with his frying pan. Iggy fires his pistol. Hkatha blasts the death knight with a volley of [i]magic missiles[/i]. Arawn staggers. A hollow moan rises up from his armor. The sword clangs to the ground. Then his goat-faced helm falls off, as if it had been suspended in mid-air above the armor. And then the armor collapses in a heap. All around them, the zombies collapse without a sound. This time, they do not stir again. [/QUOTE]
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