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The Lost Boys vs The Sunless Citadel
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<blockquote data-quote="Goonalan" data-source="post: 3608475" data-attributes="member: 16069"><p>Turn 2.9 actually the last part of the 2nd session.</p><p></p><p style="text-align: center">“Grand Alf Magic Fire Burper.”</p><p></p><p>A scruffy room beyond the door, Meepo skitters in, pointing onwards.</p><p></p><p>“Dat way.”</p><p></p><p>The intrepid foursome follows.</p><p></p><p>Grand Alf still muttering, “Goblins… Kobolds… what’s the bloody difference… scabby little…”</p><p></p><p>Dartamor, head down, giggles and… “Hang on.”</p><p></p><p>The group stops, Dartamor shuffles around the room, it’s much abused, ancient and fairly dirty, there are marks in the floor- “Rats, lots of them.”</p><p></p><p>Grand Alf picks his robe up and tip toes about a bit, “What d’ya mean rats… I hate rats… beady eyes, teeth… fangs, FANGS.”</p><p></p><p>Thankfully Aleso remains calm, “RATS… RATS… RATS… RATS.” He stands like a lighthouse slowly turning barking into the darkness, white as a sheet.</p><p></p><p>Saradomin settles for a combat crouch, scanning left and right, ready for anything.</p><p></p><p>“Hang on… I SAID HANG… OH BLOODY SHUT UP.” Dartamor quietens the crowd, “Footprints, the adventurers? Four of them, that way.” He points onwards, “Could be… could be.”</p><p></p><p>The rat-panicked majority settle down Meepo stands in their midst, rubbing his belly, “Ratto gud eat’em. Mmmm.” He’s learning the Common tongue.</p><p></p><p>Dartamor nods at Meepo and makes curly-wurly motions to the side of his head, looking at the others, as if to say they’re mad, the international sign language works- Meepo chuckles, and skips forward, the others fall in and quickly follow.</p><p></p><p>Into another room, equally dilapidated, a much abused fountain covered in dirt and grime to the right… and a strange looking door to the left. They investigate left.</p><p></p><p>Grand Alf gulps, “Dragons… again.” The door and frame are intricately carved with dragons, scratch that- skeletal dragons, it says something above it, more squiggly writing. He squints, no good, puts his head to one side… still no good.</p><p></p><p>“Channel good, open the way.” Dartamor reads, Meepo smiles.</p><p></p><p>“What in damnation does that mean?” Aleso strikes a pose, Rodin, “The Thinker”, with heavy armour and fantastic moustache.</p><p></p><p>“Duh, it means one of you god-botherers needs to wave your holy wotsit vaguely in the direction of the door and it should open.” Grand Alf pulls himself up to his full height, six feet three including now crumpled hat.</p><p></p><p>Saradomin steps up,</p><p></p><p>“Oh Cuthbert, if you would but,</p><p>Could but, should but- OPEN THE DOOR.”</p><p></p><p>The skeletal dragon images glow for a second, swim from the door to the door frame, and the door creaks open. A light beyond, cautiously they shuffle in led by Saradomin.</p><p></p><p>Caskets, sarcophagi, call them what you will, five of them stood upright, three left, and two right- etched and carved with the faces and bodies of ancient elves, and dragon symbols. At the far end an Altar, once again decorated, on top of which is a candle; it does not flicker- and some other shiny stuff- Dartamor sees his opportunity and scurries forward.</p><p></p><p>EEEeeeeeeeeR</p><p></p><p>The sarcophagi swing open, all of them- five Skeletons step out.</p><p></p><p>Dartamor does a double-take and darts forward to the altar, looking for a shadow to hide in.</p><p></p><p>Saradomin still has his holy symbol in his hand, he punches the sky with it gripped in his fist.</p><p></p><p>“MIGHTY BERT,</p><p>MAKE IT HUUUUUUUURT.”</p><p></p><p>BOOOOOOMM</p><p></p><p>As if hit by ten ton hammers four of the Skeletons evenly distribute themselves around the chamber- into smithereens.</p><p></p><p>One stands a moment looking slightly lost, Grand Alf steps in and…</p><p></p><p>Poke… Poke</p><p></p><p>Tickles its ribs. Aleso grabs Saradomin’s mace and…</p><p></p><p>FWUMP</p><p></p><p>Skittles it. All done.</p><p></p><p>The three look chuffed with themselves, Meepo peeks round the door way. Grins, thumbs up at Dartamor who emerges from the shadows.</p><p></p><p>“So there’s a light, a nice light. ‘Ere watch this”, he clamps his hand over the flame, the others start forward, he removes his hand, the flame is still there, “now that’s magic.”</p><p></p><p>“And this…” he holds up an odd, shiny, crystal-like whistle, “I wonder what happens when…”, Dartamor puts it to his lips, and… </p><p></p><p>YANK</p><p></p><p>Grand Alf snatches it away, apoplectic, “Do you have any idea, any idea, how dangerous this could be- it could…”, the words escape him he settles for hand gestures, big, dramatic, “any idea, any. At all. Any idea.” He shakes the whistle in Dartamor’s face.</p><p></p><p>“Any idea.”</p><p></p><p>Dartamor shrugs, actually looking a little guilty.</p><p></p><p>“Any idea, at all.”</p><p></p><p>The others are looking sheepish now, even Meepo who hops from foot to foot, eyes on the ground. </p><p></p><p>“Any idea.”</p><p></p><p>Grand Alf blows the whistle. </p><p></p><p>“------“</p><p></p><p>A Skeleton slowly reassembles itself before his eyes, the others, a moment later, become conscious of this… they were looking down remember.</p><p></p><p>There’s a struggle for blunt weapons.</p><p></p><p>“Wait.” Grand Alf holds up his hands.</p><p></p><p>“Skelington bow before me.”</p><p></p><p>The Skeleton does so.</p><p></p><p>“Carry this”, he hands the creature his backpack, “now guard me well.” He folds his arms, satisfied, tucking the whistle into a pocket. “I shall call you Bones.”</p><p></p><p>“You bas…”, Dartamor’s not happy.</p><p></p><p>“An abomination… an abomination, by BeaaalllZEBBUbbbles beard it’s not right. Holy. Right. An abomination.” Aleso takes up the reins.</p><p></p><p>“Oh Cuthbert make to…Ulp”</p><p></p><p>Grand Alf nudges Saradomin, in the throat, before he can finish his turning attempt.</p><p></p><p>“You gugger.”</p><p></p><p>The other three are in Grand Alf’s face, screaming.</p><p></p><p>“AN ABOMINATION.”</p><p>“GAGAINST GUTHBERT.”</p><p>“PELOR.”</p><p>“WHERE’S MINE THAT’S WHAT I WANT TO KNOW?”</p><p>“GI GWILL GNOT GRAVEL GITH GIS…”</p><p>“ABOMINATION.”</p><p>“I BLOODY WANT ONE.”</p><p></p><p>The inevitable scuffle follows, mostly, it’s not the stuff of heroes more akin to three petulant six year olds fighting over pudding, you know slapping, scratching et al.</p><p></p><p>A tiny hand snakes into Grand Alf’s pocket.</p><p></p><p>YOINK</p><p></p><p>“------“</p><p></p><p>A new Skeleton surges upright, it’s missing a leg bone so it rattles as it strides over to stand by Meepo.</p><p></p><p>Meepo gurgles in his strange tongue; the Skeleton reaches down and settles Meepo on his shoulders.</p><p></p><p>Meepo views the world from his new lofty position, he folds his arms, the skeleton lurches forward, Meepo grips on, steers the thing by twisting its head left and right.</p><p></p><p>“Wheeeeee”</p><p></p><p>And back out of the room, throwing the whistle on the floor as he leaves, he gibbers as he departs.</p><p></p><p>Scramble.</p><p></p><p>Thirty seconds later the pile up dissolves, Saradomin, Aleso and Dartamor get up, dust themselves down. Dartamor has the whistle, he blows it.</p><p></p><p>“ “</p><p></p><p>The three look around, nothing.</p><p></p><p>The silence is endless, for a while.</p><p></p><p>“Meepo’s calling his Rattler.” Dartamor adds, but no-one’s listening- long faces all round.</p><p></p><p>The group head out and to the fountain, once again it’s Dartamor to the fore.</p><p></p><p>He clears away a layer or ten of grime, there are words, Draconic again.</p><p></p><p>“It says ‘Let there be fire’, only in Draconic- Nainarya.”</p><p></p><p>With that the spout of the fountain, actually concealed in a carved dragon’s maw, gurgles into life… and spills out a red liquid- Dartamor is lightening fast, a flask underneath to catch it. It fills.</p><p></p><p>Then stops.</p><p></p><p>“Nainarya.”</p><p></p><p>Nothing happens.</p><p></p><p>The others gather to sniff and study the liquid.</p><p></p><p>“It could be dangerous.” Aleso cautions.</p><p>“Possibly… We’ll have to take it to that Gnome back in Oakhurst- Nackle… Whatever her name was, she’ll know. I suggest we keep it safe.” Saradomin adds.</p><p>Dartamor sets about finding a safe place to stow the flask.</p><p></p><p>“Here let me help you.” Grand Alf grabs the flask, and swigs.</p><p></p><p>GGGGGGGgaaaaarrrrrggggllllllleGULP</p><p></p><p>“Not bad… Refreshing… A bit spice… Hot… HOT… BURNY.” Grand Alf hops from foot to foot clutching at his burning throat.</p><p></p><p>He dodges left and right, trying to grab one of his comrades- gesticulating wildly, unable to speak pointing at his throat.</p><p></p><p>The others dodge out of the way, Meepo riding Rattler careens around the room trying to avoid the mad wizard.</p><p></p><p>Grand Alf dashes out of the room, a darkened corridor heading north and…</p><p></p><p>BUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUrp</p><p></p><p>Fills the hall ahead with a fan of wicked flames, incinerating the two approaching Dire Rats in the process.</p><p></p><p>Cough</p><p></p><p>He re-adjusts his hat, admires the immolated rats and turns back to the others.</p><p></p><p>“Another successful experiment undertaken.”</p><p></p><p>Claps his hands together, shoulders his backpack and points north.</p><p></p><p>“Onwards.”</p><p></p><p>The others stare open-mouthed, collectively shrug their shoulders and follow on.</p><p></p><p>A little later, actually ten seconds later, a hand snakes into Grand Alf’s pocket and recovers the flask. The hand is connected to a lithe individual with a touch of kleptomania- Dartamor smuggles the flask into hiding.</p><p></p><p>Twenty feet down the corridor and there, in an alcove to the left, is another door, sans decorations, the passage continues on- as do the tracks of the adventurers, although…</p><p></p><p>“Actually they come back… At least…” Dartamor squints hard at the floor, “Some of them do- four sets of tracks went north, only three came back.”</p><p></p><p>“Then let us head on.”</p><p></p><p>Grand Alf strides off, his glowing staff lights the way.</p><p></p><p>Bones and Saradomin follow on.</p><p></p><p>“I’ll just check this door.” Dartamor is as good as his word.</p><p></p><p>Aleso is torn, forced into a decision. “I’ll watch over the Thief, see that he comes to no harm- I may be of some assistance if there’s a sudden crisis.”</p><p></p><p>And where Dartamor goes Meepo, and Rattler of course, follow.</p><p></p><p>The party <GULP> split in two.</p><p></p><p>Dartamor, Aleso, Meepo and Rattler are soon through the door and into a another room, there’s another door, north again, and tracks- three adventurers came this way.</p><p></p><p>“Another door… Can’t hurt- take a look.”</p><p></p><p>Dartamor looks at Aleso, Aleso looks at Dartamor. Aleso nods, a little.</p><p></p><p>Dartamor foolishly pushes the door open.</p><p></p><p>RING-RING RING-RING</p><p></p><p>He looks up. There’s a bell attached to a bit of rope, attached to… he follows the rope with his eyes… the door. Stupid.</p><p></p><p>Ahead two shadowy figures, there’s a light of some sort behind them, they peer over what appears to be a crenulated wall. Goblins.</p><p></p><p>Stupid x2. Dartamor gulps air… decides.</p><p></p><p>“Aaaaaarrrgggghhhh.”</p><p></p><p>And launches himself forward, down some stairs as it turns out, “bugger”, he catches his foot nearly tumbles but saves himself and charges on.</p><p></p><p>Into a short corridor the floor of which is covered in caltrops.</p><p></p><p>He spots one glistening in Aleso’s torchlight, he feels the second as it plunges into his foot, through his boot.</p><p></p><p>“Aaaaaaaaaarrrrgggghhhhh.”</p><p></p><p>He goes down clutching at his foot like a sack of spuds, he finds another two just at the end of his fall- handy that.</p><p></p><p>“AAAAaaaaarrgghhh AAAAArrrrrGGGGHHH.”</p><p></p><p>Stupid x3.</p><p></p><p>Aleso looks behind him- the door and escape. And forward… Goblins.</p><p></p><p>Thung</p><p></p><p>A crude javelin bounces off the side of his helm, it’s enough to make his mind up.</p><p></p><p>“PPPPEEEELLLLLLLOOORRR.”</p><p></p><p>He bounds down the stairs, four at a time. Leaps…</p><p></p><p>“OOOOFFFFFFfffff.”</p><p></p><p>Lands one foot on the sprawling Dartamor, knocking him back onto the spikes, and leaps again onto the stairs heading up to the crenulated wall, and the Goblins.</p><p></p><p>“Bye EcK.”</p><p></p><p>A Goblin bolts, the other readies a short blunt instrument, a… difficult to see. Aleso charges up the stairs… it’s a…</p><p></p><p>THWONG</p><p></p><p>Mace. He’s struck on the side- rib cracked, it’ll hurt when he laughs, mental note- don’t laugh.</p><p></p><p>SLLLERRKK. </p><p></p><p>Aleso’s scimitar snakes forward and slices the Goblin which gurgles to the floor, clutching the wound, in seconds it’s over.</p><p></p><p>Beyond is another guard room, bare except for rough sleeping rags, and a flickering fire, empty, to the left a door, and the sound of running feet.</p><p></p><p>Aleso plunges on… Sorta. Swings a leg over the wall, and puffing hard, gets stuck.</p><p></p><p>“PELOR… SAVE me… PUFF PUFF. I… I… PUFF PUFF… Hang on. Rest a moment.”</p><p></p><p>He falls over the far-side of the wall and lies on his back struggling for breath, black spots appear before his eyes, coalesce into darkness… if it wasn’t so dangerous it’d be funny. No use… fading, he laughs.</p><p></p><p>“AAAAARRRGGGHHH.”</p><p></p><p>The pain keeps him conscious. He sits up.</p><p></p><p>“AAAAARRRGGGHHH.”</p><p></p><p>Over the wall, back on the caltrop floor, Dartamor echoes his thoughts.</p><p></p><p>“AAAARRRGGGGHHH.”</p><p></p><p>Meepo aboard Rattler heads over to help.</p><p></p><p>Meanwhile…</p><p></p><p>“I saw something I tell you… and so did Bones.” Grand Alf is certain.</p><p>“What?” Saradomin’s not so sure.</p><p>“I saw something.”</p><p>“You said Bones saw it too?”</p><p></p><p>Grand Alf straightens up from his creep, strides over to Bones and manipulates his jaw through the next madness.</p><p></p><p>“Gyes Gye Gid. Gye Gaw Gwat Gwand- I mean Grand Alf Gwaw.”</p><p></p><p>Grand Alf, hands on hips, stares at Saradomin. “Gattis-gide, I mean- satisfied.” He stomps off.</p><p></p><p>Saradomin lets the wizard get a head start before moving off again.</p><p></p><p>The corridor has alcoves left and right, it leads to a large arched entrance. There are doors in the alcoves, all ajar so far, although no-one’s been brave enough to see what lies beyond the doors. Too late, ahead a rat darts out, a Dire Rat, then another.</p><p></p><p>“Ha ha.”</p><p></p><p>Grand Alf fumbles for the fire potion… Ooops.</p><p></p><p>“Ha ha.”</p><p></p><p>Saradomin hoves into view, “Is there an echo in here?”</p><p></p><p>“Ha… Sick ‘em Bones.”</p><p></p><p>The rats are on them.</p><p></p><p>Grand Alf stumbles back, grabbing at his Short Spear. Saradomin leaps in front of the Sorcerer and…</p><p></p><p>Thump</p><p></p><p>Whacks a rat. The thing comes on grabs Grand Alf’s robe (again), grips on as he flails and finally gets his spear right.</p><p></p><p>Stab</p><p></p><p>The creature is dead.</p><p></p><p>Bonesy meanwhile, without a weapon, launches himself at the second rat and is left sprawling on the floor arms locked around the hairy beast biting at its tail end. The thing yelps and nips but can’t get free. In short time it is bitten, gummed, butted, clawed, pinched and raked to death.</p><p></p><p>“We are the champeeeeeons my freeeend.” Grand Alf begins as another Dire Rat scuttles into view. He doesn’t hesitate, draws back his short spear and aims, in one smooth motion the spear flies.</p><p></p><p>And lands around fifteen feet beyond the rat, it skitters off into the darkness, unimpeded.</p><p></p><p>“Sick ‘em Bones.”</p><p></p><p>Soon after the third rat is no more.</p><p></p><p>“Lets check the doors, they were coming from there.” Saradomin states to an empty corridor. Grand Alf is already filling a sack with shiny coins.</p><p></p><p>“Rich. Rich I tell ya’”</p><p></p><p>The six alcoves soon divulge their secrets, rat’s nests, and treasure- a mixture of coins and a few gems- still more money than any of them have seen before.</p><p></p><p>“Let’s not tell… Hang on.” Grand Alf stops, cups an ear.</p><p></p><p>“Did you hear that?”</p><p>“No.”</p><p></p><p>Grand Alf thinks a second.</p><p></p><p>“Good, let’s see what’s up here.”</p><p>“What about the others?”</p><p>“Oh they’ll be alright- they’d come back if there was anything wrong.”</p><p></p><p>Saradomin nods at this new found wisdom.</p><p></p><p>“Kay.”</p><p></p><p>The two head off.</p><p></p><p>Next turn… “Firestarter, Goblin Firestarter”, and, “It’s a Rat Trap baby and you’ve been caught.”</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Goonalan, post: 3608475, member: 16069"] Turn 2.9 actually the last part of the 2nd session. [CENTER]“Grand Alf Magic Fire Burper.”[/CENTER] A scruffy room beyond the door, Meepo skitters in, pointing onwards. “Dat way.” The intrepid foursome follows. Grand Alf still muttering, “Goblins… Kobolds… what’s the bloody difference… scabby little…” Dartamor, head down, giggles and… “Hang on.” The group stops, Dartamor shuffles around the room, it’s much abused, ancient and fairly dirty, there are marks in the floor- “Rats, lots of them.” Grand Alf picks his robe up and tip toes about a bit, “What d’ya mean rats… I hate rats… beady eyes, teeth… fangs, FANGS.” Thankfully Aleso remains calm, “RATS… RATS… RATS… RATS.” He stands like a lighthouse slowly turning barking into the darkness, white as a sheet. Saradomin settles for a combat crouch, scanning left and right, ready for anything. “Hang on… I SAID HANG… OH BLOODY SHUT UP.” Dartamor quietens the crowd, “Footprints, the adventurers? Four of them, that way.” He points onwards, “Could be… could be.” The rat-panicked majority settle down Meepo stands in their midst, rubbing his belly, “Ratto gud eat’em. Mmmm.” He’s learning the Common tongue. Dartamor nods at Meepo and makes curly-wurly motions to the side of his head, looking at the others, as if to say they’re mad, the international sign language works- Meepo chuckles, and skips forward, the others fall in and quickly follow. Into another room, equally dilapidated, a much abused fountain covered in dirt and grime to the right… and a strange looking door to the left. They investigate left. Grand Alf gulps, “Dragons… again.” The door and frame are intricately carved with dragons, scratch that- skeletal dragons, it says something above it, more squiggly writing. He squints, no good, puts his head to one side… still no good. “Channel good, open the way.” Dartamor reads, Meepo smiles. “What in damnation does that mean?” Aleso strikes a pose, Rodin, “The Thinker”, with heavy armour and fantastic moustache. “Duh, it means one of you god-botherers needs to wave your holy wotsit vaguely in the direction of the door and it should open.” Grand Alf pulls himself up to his full height, six feet three including now crumpled hat. Saradomin steps up, “Oh Cuthbert, if you would but, Could but, should but- OPEN THE DOOR.” The skeletal dragon images glow for a second, swim from the door to the door frame, and the door creaks open. A light beyond, cautiously they shuffle in led by Saradomin. Caskets, sarcophagi, call them what you will, five of them stood upright, three left, and two right- etched and carved with the faces and bodies of ancient elves, and dragon symbols. At the far end an Altar, once again decorated, on top of which is a candle; it does not flicker- and some other shiny stuff- Dartamor sees his opportunity and scurries forward. EEEeeeeeeeeR The sarcophagi swing open, all of them- five Skeletons step out. Dartamor does a double-take and darts forward to the altar, looking for a shadow to hide in. Saradomin still has his holy symbol in his hand, he punches the sky with it gripped in his fist. “MIGHTY BERT, MAKE IT HUUUUUUUURT.” BOOOOOOMM As if hit by ten ton hammers four of the Skeletons evenly distribute themselves around the chamber- into smithereens. One stands a moment looking slightly lost, Grand Alf steps in and… Poke… Poke Tickles its ribs. Aleso grabs Saradomin’s mace and… FWUMP Skittles it. All done. The three look chuffed with themselves, Meepo peeks round the door way. Grins, thumbs up at Dartamor who emerges from the shadows. “So there’s a light, a nice light. ‘Ere watch this”, he clamps his hand over the flame, the others start forward, he removes his hand, the flame is still there, “now that’s magic.” “And this…” he holds up an odd, shiny, crystal-like whistle, “I wonder what happens when…”, Dartamor puts it to his lips, and… YANK Grand Alf snatches it away, apoplectic, “Do you have any idea, any idea, how dangerous this could be- it could…”, the words escape him he settles for hand gestures, big, dramatic, “any idea, any. At all. Any idea.” He shakes the whistle in Dartamor’s face. “Any idea.” Dartamor shrugs, actually looking a little guilty. “Any idea, at all.” The others are looking sheepish now, even Meepo who hops from foot to foot, eyes on the ground. “Any idea.” Grand Alf blows the whistle. “------“ A Skeleton slowly reassembles itself before his eyes, the others, a moment later, become conscious of this… they were looking down remember. There’s a struggle for blunt weapons. “Wait.” Grand Alf holds up his hands. “Skelington bow before me.” The Skeleton does so. “Carry this”, he hands the creature his backpack, “now guard me well.” He folds his arms, satisfied, tucking the whistle into a pocket. “I shall call you Bones.” “You bas…”, Dartamor’s not happy. “An abomination… an abomination, by BeaaalllZEBBUbbbles beard it’s not right. Holy. Right. An abomination.” Aleso takes up the reins. “Oh Cuthbert make to…Ulp” Grand Alf nudges Saradomin, in the throat, before he can finish his turning attempt. “You gugger.” The other three are in Grand Alf’s face, screaming. “AN ABOMINATION.” “GAGAINST GUTHBERT.” “PELOR.” “WHERE’S MINE THAT’S WHAT I WANT TO KNOW?” “GI GWILL GNOT GRAVEL GITH GIS…” “ABOMINATION.” “I BLOODY WANT ONE.” The inevitable scuffle follows, mostly, it’s not the stuff of heroes more akin to three petulant six year olds fighting over pudding, you know slapping, scratching et al. A tiny hand snakes into Grand Alf’s pocket. YOINK “------“ A new Skeleton surges upright, it’s missing a leg bone so it rattles as it strides over to stand by Meepo. Meepo gurgles in his strange tongue; the Skeleton reaches down and settles Meepo on his shoulders. Meepo views the world from his new lofty position, he folds his arms, the skeleton lurches forward, Meepo grips on, steers the thing by twisting its head left and right. “Wheeeeee” And back out of the room, throwing the whistle on the floor as he leaves, he gibbers as he departs. Scramble. Thirty seconds later the pile up dissolves, Saradomin, Aleso and Dartamor get up, dust themselves down. Dartamor has the whistle, he blows it. “ “ The three look around, nothing. The silence is endless, for a while. “Meepo’s calling his Rattler.” Dartamor adds, but no-one’s listening- long faces all round. The group head out and to the fountain, once again it’s Dartamor to the fore. He clears away a layer or ten of grime, there are words, Draconic again. “It says ‘Let there be fire’, only in Draconic- Nainarya.” With that the spout of the fountain, actually concealed in a carved dragon’s maw, gurgles into life… and spills out a red liquid- Dartamor is lightening fast, a flask underneath to catch it. It fills. Then stops. “Nainarya.” Nothing happens. The others gather to sniff and study the liquid. “It could be dangerous.” Aleso cautions. “Possibly… We’ll have to take it to that Gnome back in Oakhurst- Nackle… Whatever her name was, she’ll know. I suggest we keep it safe.” Saradomin adds. Dartamor sets about finding a safe place to stow the flask. “Here let me help you.” Grand Alf grabs the flask, and swigs. GGGGGGGgaaaaarrrrrggggllllllleGULP “Not bad… Refreshing… A bit spice… Hot… HOT… BURNY.” Grand Alf hops from foot to foot clutching at his burning throat. He dodges left and right, trying to grab one of his comrades- gesticulating wildly, unable to speak pointing at his throat. The others dodge out of the way, Meepo riding Rattler careens around the room trying to avoid the mad wizard. Grand Alf dashes out of the room, a darkened corridor heading north and… BUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUrp Fills the hall ahead with a fan of wicked flames, incinerating the two approaching Dire Rats in the process. Cough He re-adjusts his hat, admires the immolated rats and turns back to the others. “Another successful experiment undertaken.” Claps his hands together, shoulders his backpack and points north. “Onwards.” The others stare open-mouthed, collectively shrug their shoulders and follow on. A little later, actually ten seconds later, a hand snakes into Grand Alf’s pocket and recovers the flask. The hand is connected to a lithe individual with a touch of kleptomania- Dartamor smuggles the flask into hiding. Twenty feet down the corridor and there, in an alcove to the left, is another door, sans decorations, the passage continues on- as do the tracks of the adventurers, although… “Actually they come back… At least…” Dartamor squints hard at the floor, “Some of them do- four sets of tracks went north, only three came back.” “Then let us head on.” Grand Alf strides off, his glowing staff lights the way. Bones and Saradomin follow on. “I’ll just check this door.” Dartamor is as good as his word. Aleso is torn, forced into a decision. “I’ll watch over the Thief, see that he comes to no harm- I may be of some assistance if there’s a sudden crisis.” And where Dartamor goes Meepo, and Rattler of course, follow. The party <GULP> split in two. Dartamor, Aleso, Meepo and Rattler are soon through the door and into a another room, there’s another door, north again, and tracks- three adventurers came this way. “Another door… Can’t hurt- take a look.” Dartamor looks at Aleso, Aleso looks at Dartamor. Aleso nods, a little. Dartamor foolishly pushes the door open. RING-RING RING-RING He looks up. There’s a bell attached to a bit of rope, attached to… he follows the rope with his eyes… the door. Stupid. Ahead two shadowy figures, there’s a light of some sort behind them, they peer over what appears to be a crenulated wall. Goblins. Stupid x2. Dartamor gulps air… decides. “Aaaaaarrrgggghhhh.” And launches himself forward, down some stairs as it turns out, “bugger”, he catches his foot nearly tumbles but saves himself and charges on. Into a short corridor the floor of which is covered in caltrops. He spots one glistening in Aleso’s torchlight, he feels the second as it plunges into his foot, through his boot. “Aaaaaaaaaarrrrgggghhhhh.” He goes down clutching at his foot like a sack of spuds, he finds another two just at the end of his fall- handy that. “AAAAaaaaarrgghhh AAAAArrrrrGGGGHHH.” Stupid x3. Aleso looks behind him- the door and escape. And forward… Goblins. Thung A crude javelin bounces off the side of his helm, it’s enough to make his mind up. “PPPPEEEELLLLLLLOOORRR.” He bounds down the stairs, four at a time. Leaps… “OOOOFFFFFFfffff.” Lands one foot on the sprawling Dartamor, knocking him back onto the spikes, and leaps again onto the stairs heading up to the crenulated wall, and the Goblins. “Bye EcK.” A Goblin bolts, the other readies a short blunt instrument, a… difficult to see. Aleso charges up the stairs… it’s a… THWONG Mace. He’s struck on the side- rib cracked, it’ll hurt when he laughs, mental note- don’t laugh. SLLLERRKK. Aleso’s scimitar snakes forward and slices the Goblin which gurgles to the floor, clutching the wound, in seconds it’s over. Beyond is another guard room, bare except for rough sleeping rags, and a flickering fire, empty, to the left a door, and the sound of running feet. Aleso plunges on… Sorta. Swings a leg over the wall, and puffing hard, gets stuck. “PELOR… SAVE me… PUFF PUFF. I… I… PUFF PUFF… Hang on. Rest a moment.” He falls over the far-side of the wall and lies on his back struggling for breath, black spots appear before his eyes, coalesce into darkness… if it wasn’t so dangerous it’d be funny. No use… fading, he laughs. “AAAAARRRGGGHHH.” The pain keeps him conscious. He sits up. “AAAAARRRGGGHHH.” Over the wall, back on the caltrop floor, Dartamor echoes his thoughts. “AAAARRRGGGGHHH.” Meepo aboard Rattler heads over to help. Meanwhile… “I saw something I tell you… and so did Bones.” Grand Alf is certain. “What?” Saradomin’s not so sure. “I saw something.” “You said Bones saw it too?” Grand Alf straightens up from his creep, strides over to Bones and manipulates his jaw through the next madness. “Gyes Gye Gid. Gye Gaw Gwat Gwand- I mean Grand Alf Gwaw.” Grand Alf, hands on hips, stares at Saradomin. “Gattis-gide, I mean- satisfied.” He stomps off. Saradomin lets the wizard get a head start before moving off again. The corridor has alcoves left and right, it leads to a large arched entrance. There are doors in the alcoves, all ajar so far, although no-one’s been brave enough to see what lies beyond the doors. Too late, ahead a rat darts out, a Dire Rat, then another. “Ha ha.” Grand Alf fumbles for the fire potion… Ooops. “Ha ha.” Saradomin hoves into view, “Is there an echo in here?” “Ha… Sick ‘em Bones.” The rats are on them. Grand Alf stumbles back, grabbing at his Short Spear. Saradomin leaps in front of the Sorcerer and… Thump Whacks a rat. The thing comes on grabs Grand Alf’s robe (again), grips on as he flails and finally gets his spear right. Stab The creature is dead. Bonesy meanwhile, without a weapon, launches himself at the second rat and is left sprawling on the floor arms locked around the hairy beast biting at its tail end. The thing yelps and nips but can’t get free. In short time it is bitten, gummed, butted, clawed, pinched and raked to death. “We are the champeeeeeons my freeeend.” Grand Alf begins as another Dire Rat scuttles into view. He doesn’t hesitate, draws back his short spear and aims, in one smooth motion the spear flies. And lands around fifteen feet beyond the rat, it skitters off into the darkness, unimpeded. “Sick ‘em Bones.” Soon after the third rat is no more. “Lets check the doors, they were coming from there.” Saradomin states to an empty corridor. Grand Alf is already filling a sack with shiny coins. “Rich. Rich I tell ya’” The six alcoves soon divulge their secrets, rat’s nests, and treasure- a mixture of coins and a few gems- still more money than any of them have seen before. “Let’s not tell… Hang on.” Grand Alf stops, cups an ear. “Did you hear that?” “No.” Grand Alf thinks a second. “Good, let’s see what’s up here.” “What about the others?” “Oh they’ll be alright- they’d come back if there was anything wrong.” Saradomin nods at this new found wisdom. “Kay.” The two head off. Next turn… “Firestarter, Goblin Firestarter”, and, “It’s a Rat Trap baby and you’ve been caught.” [/QUOTE]
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