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The Realms of Enlightenment: The Grey Companions
Jon Potter
First Post
Re: Re: [Realms #181] A Better Ratrap
Just what it sounds like: part duck, part rabbit. It's from an old issue of Dragon Magazine (maybe around issue 240 or so). They were presented as an example of what a cross-breeding wizard might start with before graduating up to making owlbears and such.
An earlier adventure saw this group investigating a mage whose specialty was magical cross-breeding. Duckbunnies were running rampant in the surrounding area. The party wizard just happened to choose that location to finally summon a Familiar. What he got was a cute little black rabbit with a bright orange duck bill and four webbed feet.
In addition to providing the Alertness Feat, it grants Kirnoth a +2 modifier to Swim checks. And it can speak with either rodents or birds once per day.
It doesn't really have much going for it, but gosh is it cute!
Dungannon said:
I may regret asking this, but what exactly is a duckbunny?
Just what it sounds like: part duck, part rabbit. It's from an old issue of Dragon Magazine (maybe around issue 240 or so). They were presented as an example of what a cross-breeding wizard might start with before graduating up to making owlbears and such.
An earlier adventure saw this group investigating a mage whose specialty was magical cross-breeding. Duckbunnies were running rampant in the surrounding area. The party wizard just happened to choose that location to finally summon a Familiar. What he got was a cute little black rabbit with a bright orange duck bill and four webbed feet.
In addition to providing the Alertness Feat, it grants Kirnoth a +2 modifier to Swim checks. And it can speak with either rodents or birds once per day.
It doesn't really have much going for it, but gosh is it cute!
Jon Potter
First Post
[Realms #188] Othelwood
This is where we officially switched over to 3E rules and the party wizard decided to become the party sorcerer.
-----------------------------
"What's that?" Draelond asked and Ledare briefly explained Selejian's involvement with the wererats as well as Finian's and Ruze's firsthand experience with the Glove of Petrification. By the time she'd gotten to the part about the mad sculptor's death, Draelond had backed away from the open chest as if it contained a live scorpion.
"What shall we do with it?" Finian asked. "It is very dangerous. Should we lock it away or use it?"
"We must destroy it immediately!" Kirnoth insisted, snapping out of his torpor.
"I was thinking that you could use it since you are a wizard," the Archer countered but Kirnoth's face contorted at his words.
"Not any more," the elf mused with a sardonic grin.
"Omrixx is a dead man when we see him again," Finian said through gritted teeth as he packed up his lockpicks. "Never trust a thief. Soriah always thought we were too trusting."
Ledare let out a little chuckle. "And I had a funny feeling about him all along," the Janissary muttered. "Let that be a lesson to us."
"I too had a feeling he was not to be trusted," Kirnoth shrugged. "A lot of good that does us now of course! We must move on. We have little time to waste and none of those objects was likely to be THE crucial thing to put a stop to this evil."
"Yes, but that stuff he took makes you unable to use magic, so he basically made our only wizard unable to use spells!" Finian fumed. "I wonder if someone like Allenthe Thurgoodman knows where he might be?"
Before anyone could respond, another idea blossomed in the half-elf's mind. "Is there a "bounty hunters" guild in Barnacus?" he asked. "I wonder what it would cost to have them hunt-"
"ENOUGH!" Draelond roared, slamming his hand on the tabletop hard enough to make the three chests dance briefly in place.
"What?" Finian asked, blinking up at the human with genuine confusion on his face.
"After all you've seen today, Archer?!?!" the warrior screamed, "After learning that the good people of Barnacus have been fed their own brethren? After seeing the butchered bodies of dozens of innocents, slaughtered so that they might be used to spread evil? THIS is what your worry about? You worry about your stolen fairy dust and a few coins?"
"We lost some valuable stuff," Finian started to explain, but again Draelond cut him off.
"Perhaps I misjudged you, Archer," the warrior said with a disgusted scowl on his face. "I took you for a good man who cared about the difference between good and evil, but you're starting to look to me like a greedy little troll who cares about possessions first and foremost."
For a moment Finian just glared up at the man, but both Kirnoth and Ledare had seen him interact enough times with Soriah to know that the incident was far from over. The muscles in the Archer's jaw bunched as he clenched his teeth and his ears seemed almost to glow as they suffused with blood. For a moment, there was something wild in his eyes, but it passed quickly and when he spoke, his voice was surprisingly even. "I am mad that Omrixx stole our ability to fight as well as we could," he said, his voice eerily calm. "I am also upset that I risked my life against these evil opponents to save that rogue's life."
"We all-" Draelond began and this time Finian cut him off.
"Additionally," the Archer said, "I do not like being talked to in the tone of voice you just addressed me in. No matter how big you are or think you are I do not wish my motives to be questioned in such a way. I do not like being talked to that way. I will forgive it as I too feel some pain at the way those people were butchered."
"I don't think any of us was unaffected by the sight of such evil," Ledare said, disarming the situation in her diplomatic way. Draelond and Finian stopped their staring contest and looked instead at the Janissary.
"Yes," the Battleguard agreed, speaking for the first time. "The spread of the Taint, is a grievous concern to me."
"Ruze, do you know what those symbols meant?" Finian asked. "And no evasive answers this time."
"Those symbols were ancient marks of Chaos meant to disrupt and corrupt," the cleric told him gravely. "Did you notice how if you looked at them too long your eyes kind of went cross-eyed and your stomach turned? That is the mark of chaos."
The others looked at one another for some confirmation of the symptoms that the Battleguard had mentioned. But only Ruze had felt the affects he described and all they could do was shrug.
"Was there actually human meat in there?" Finian asked. "We kind of just jumped to that assumption."
"That I do not know," Ruze admitted. "But I suspect this was the first step to subtly infuse the Taint of chaos in the normal law abiding citizens. People often mistakenly assume the assault of Chaos to be a blunt hammer, and it can be. But often it is more insidious - corrupting from within by preying on our faults, our greed, our power, our hubris."
A weighty silence settled over the room at the cleric's pronouncement. While the rest of the group sat, watching in silence, Draelond took the opportunity to voice his opinion. He spoke quietly and evenly with renewed calm and said, "I think we need to ride to Othelwood as soon as we can."
Ledare nodded. "Since the festival is only on for one more day, we don't have time to waste resting," she said. "I too say we seek out this birth in Othelwood."
"I feel I should report this to Nasser-Ubeen," Ruze announced. "Let me locate a runner to give him the message, whilst we be on the way to stop the birth. I fear we do not have time to waste."
Finian looked annoyed but he too nodded. "Considering the amount of time left, perhaps dealing with Omrixx should wait," he said, looking pointedly at Draelond as he did so. "That is of course unless Kirnoth needs those books very badly."
"Do not worry about me, Finian," Kirnoth said. "I am not powerless without my books."
"What do you plan to do without any spells?" the Archer questioned, but Ruze spoke before the elf could answer.
"My spelling brother, do you have a God you pray to?" the cleric asked. "For methinks you will have to start praying for your miracles now."
Finian grimaced at the Battleguard's suggestion and offered, "Kirnoth, do you have any friends in Barnacus who would let you borrow spells for a price? We have the equivalent of 200 gold crowns here, plus I would be willing to give some of my gems to-"
The elf held up his slender hand to quiet everyone and with a somewhat embarrassed expression said, "Wizardry is not my only source of magic. I am also a sorcerer, although I have always focused on wizardry as most others in my family do."
Sorcerers, the others knew, wielded the same arcane magics that wizards did, but did so without the use of ancient books and tomes. Their magic came from within themselves and was shaped through the force of their own will rather than carefully learned arcane formulae.
"My grandfather, Tirnoth, was also a natural sorcerer," the elf went on. "He helped me develop my sorcery as well. While most of the other mages at Myth Drannor disagreed with him, his philosophy was: 'you can only depend on your own innate skill in a tight spot, and books can leave you'."
At that, Kirnoth smiled thinly and let out a small chuckle. "I always thought he was odd to think that way. But he was my grandfather and I loved him and so I humored him about the sorcery," he went on. "Now I finally see what he was talking about!"
"I know little of the ways of magic," Draelond admitted, "and you certainly have great worth beyond your magical abilities, but does this mean you are not still able to cast spells?"
Kirnoth nodded, "Although I can access my sorcery, I only have minor spells - cantrips you might call them - available to me until I rest."
"Will that be enough?" Ledare asked dubiously. From what little that she knew of arcane magic she seemed to remember that cantrips were the equivalent of parlor tricks.
"I'm also an elf, remember," Kirnoth told him with a smile. "And if I am to now abandon my career as a wizard, I can once again contribute to battle with something more effective than my darts. I would like to get a composite bow and arrow for distance attacks and a longsword for hand to hand combat."
"What?" Finian shouted, surprised at the mage's request but Kirnoth just grinned.
"All elves esteem the arts of swordplay and archery, Finian," he said with a wink of his violet eye. "And I'll turn 150 years old this year. I learned to swing a longsword, before you were born."
The others just looked at the elf as if they had met him for the first time.
"And since I'll be casting only the simplest of spells I believe I can wear leather armor without risk of the spells failing," he went on, moving over to the open chest that contained the suit of leathers they had found. "I can also detect magic. SO let's have a look at this. And given the upcoming battle, if it is not magical, Finian, would you have an objection to me wearing it?"
"N-no?" the Archer replied. Grinning wickedly he added, "I really suggest you keep the glove too. It would be great for you to turn our enemies to stone."
Kirnoth shook his head and closed the lid on the chest containing the Glove of Petrification. "That thing is evil, Finian," he admonished. "You saw what it did to Selejian. I'll not fall into the same trap."
While Draelond readied the group's horses, Finian and Kirnoth went to Grey House's armory and got the elf outfitted with armor and weapons. Kirnoth looked a little strange dressed so, and felt more than a little uncomfortable. "This will take some getting used to," he mused, trying to get comfortable in the binding armor. The sword, however, danced in his hands like an old friend and Finian couldn't help but laugh as he watched the elf twirl the blade expertly.
Ruze and Ledare each called for a runner and sent messages to the Temple of Shaharizod and the Janissary Guild respectively. Ledare wished to be notified in the event that Mom was captured.
Ruze's message said: "Spirit sees Mountain; No Moon overbrims; Spirit away and flows"
It was early afternoon when they rode out of Barnacus and Orin's Shield had set when they arrived at Othelwood. Despite the darkness, it wasn't difficult to spot an area along the side of the caravan trail that had been disturbed recently by horse hooves. Nearby, a broken wagon wheel leaning against a tree marked a narrow trail through the dense foliage.
As they rode into the trees, each remarked to themselves how utterly still the woods seemed. Not an insect chirped or a bird cried out. It was most unnatural. Ruze took some comfort in the fact that beams of moonlight shed by the just-passed-full Handmaiden Moon broke through the dark canopy of leaves above them as they went. But still, shadows danced everywhere as a chill wind blew through the trees. They soon rode out into a clearing, roughly sixty feet across, dominated by a dilapidated buckboard wagon covered in vines and rotten leaves. Four horses were tethered to the wagon and two men stood beside them.
As the group broke out of the trees, one of the men stepped forward and hailed the party. He was dressed in studded leather armor with a longsword at his hip. His long hair and scraggily beard and mustaches were dark and when he spoke it was with the accent of a man from Redwood. "Ho there, strangers," he called. "What would you say if I asked what brings you way out here?"
The other man, who was thin and bald and covered in heavy tattoos, leaned against the wagon, ostensibly cleaning his fingernails with the tip of a dagger. But he seemed to be studying the group with keen interest. For a moment no one spoke.
Ledare glanced around and saw that both Finian and Kirnoth were studying their surroundings carefully, perhaps expecting an ambush. Draelond was easing nonchalantly out of his saddle and Ruze was looking at her.
"Ledare, methinks you should be the one to answer this man's questions," the Battleguard said softly. His voice was rich and true, but at such a level that only she could hear him. "As you are a Janissary you might be able to suggest you are on the king's business on patrol during the festival. Of course we can be pretty sure that they are not here for good reasons."
His words struck a chord with the Janissary, and confidence washed over her as she urged her horse forward. She loosened the clasp on her riding cloak as she advanced until her armor and the tabard she wore were both easily visible in the moonlight. "There are a wide range of answers you might receive... if you were to ask that," she said noncommittally. A slight smile played cautiously across her lips. "None of which would be of much interest, I am sure."
The man looked up at her coldly and nodded. "True enough," he said, studying Ledare for a moment before stepping back and indicating the ruined wagon. "You lot can leave your horses here. The path through the woods is too overgrown to ride."
"Thank you," Ledare said and dismounted. The rest of the group did the same. As she handed the man her reigns, Ledare went on, "We're here on royal business, and the king is not one to make his matters known to everyone. But I-"
"King?" the man said as if he'd been slapped. His eyes narrowed and he shouted, "Intruders!"
Then everything started to happen at once.
The tattooed man jerked upright at once and began waving his hands and muttering strange, slippery words. He wasn't close enough to hear the invocation, but even in the poor lighting, Kirnoth recognized the somatic components of the spell being cast at once: Invisibility.
Ruze and Draelond both drew weapons and charged toward the wagon. Finian was drawing his bow and shouting in elfish, "Tira ten rashwe! Ta naa neuma!" or "Be careful! It's a trap!"
The Archer was looking to the trees, sure that hidden crossbowman were ready to assault them at any moment. He wasn't looking at the enemy mage at all. Kirnoth drew his sword and shouted back at the half-elf, "Tel'edan istar ista amin quella! Tampa ho!" or "The human wizard is casting Invisibility! Stop him!"
Finian turned and spotted the wizard just as he winked out of sight. The Archer let an arrow fly at the spot the man had just occupied and was rewarded with a cry of pain as it struck true. Unlike the ring that they had taken from Andamacles, the man didn't reappear when he was struck, and the arrow itself promptly vanished.
Ledare's longsword flashed out of its scabbard and bit into the mustachioed guard. He staggered back from the blow and tried to duck around Ledare's horse to put some cover between himself and the Janissary. Ruze's whirling scimitars met him.
One of the blades opened a bloody gash in the man's armor, but he had drawn his longsword in time to block the second steel crescent. As a result, he couldn't bring the sword around to block the descending blade of Ravager. The bastard sword split the guard open from shoulder to crotch. He let out a brief gargling sound, dropped to his knees and then fell backward onto the grass.
Finian and Kirnoth stood near one another, listening for any sign of the invisible mage. Neither Kirnoth nor Gordigan heard anything, but Finian had spent many years in the forest and he heard the ever-so-feint sound of a potion being unstoppered. "There!" he shouted and fired another arrow. Again, the mage yelped in pain as Finian miraculously scored a hit on the invisible target.
Ruze and Draelond and Ledare began to cross the clearing toward Kirnoth and Finian, but the Archer held up a hand to stop them. Their clanking armor drowned out any chance that he had of locating the invisible mage by ear.
Kirnoth was advancing toward the woods slowly, his longsword out. He had a spell prepared in his mind, but his attention was split between listening not only to the environment around him, but the mental urgings of the duckbunny tucked inside his shirt. *Over there by the trees,* Gordigan murmured in the elf's mind. *Toward Finian.*
Then Kirnoth heard it too, the soft murmuring of a spell being cast. "Acid sagitta..," the invisible mage whispered and Kirnoth recognized the spell: Acid Arrow.
"Conturbo!" the elf shouted and gestured toward the sound of the casting. A dazzling cloud of winking lights exploded in the air where Gordigan had pinpointed the mage and Kirnoth was pleased to hear the audible pop of a failed spell as the Acid Arrow was disrupted.
Finian followed up with an arrow of his own, but his uncanny luck seemed to have run out. The missile sailed off harmlessly into the trees.
Kirnoth heard the footfalls dashing off toward a narrow footpath barely visible amidst the trees. He slashed outward with his longsword, but connected only with air. Finian saw the brushes part as the mage left the clearing and he reached for another arrow; in his haste, however, he stripped off the fletchings, rendering the arrow useless and unfired.
The underbrush snapped back into place as the invisible mage dashed off into the night.
This is where we officially switched over to 3E rules and the party wizard decided to become the party sorcerer.
-----------------------------
"What's that?" Draelond asked and Ledare briefly explained Selejian's involvement with the wererats as well as Finian's and Ruze's firsthand experience with the Glove of Petrification. By the time she'd gotten to the part about the mad sculptor's death, Draelond had backed away from the open chest as if it contained a live scorpion.
"What shall we do with it?" Finian asked. "It is very dangerous. Should we lock it away or use it?"
"We must destroy it immediately!" Kirnoth insisted, snapping out of his torpor.
"I was thinking that you could use it since you are a wizard," the Archer countered but Kirnoth's face contorted at his words.
"Not any more," the elf mused with a sardonic grin.
"Omrixx is a dead man when we see him again," Finian said through gritted teeth as he packed up his lockpicks. "Never trust a thief. Soriah always thought we were too trusting."
Ledare let out a little chuckle. "And I had a funny feeling about him all along," the Janissary muttered. "Let that be a lesson to us."
"I too had a feeling he was not to be trusted," Kirnoth shrugged. "A lot of good that does us now of course! We must move on. We have little time to waste and none of those objects was likely to be THE crucial thing to put a stop to this evil."
"Yes, but that stuff he took makes you unable to use magic, so he basically made our only wizard unable to use spells!" Finian fumed. "I wonder if someone like Allenthe Thurgoodman knows where he might be?"
Before anyone could respond, another idea blossomed in the half-elf's mind. "Is there a "bounty hunters" guild in Barnacus?" he asked. "I wonder what it would cost to have them hunt-"
"ENOUGH!" Draelond roared, slamming his hand on the tabletop hard enough to make the three chests dance briefly in place.
"What?" Finian asked, blinking up at the human with genuine confusion on his face.
"After all you've seen today, Archer?!?!" the warrior screamed, "After learning that the good people of Barnacus have been fed their own brethren? After seeing the butchered bodies of dozens of innocents, slaughtered so that they might be used to spread evil? THIS is what your worry about? You worry about your stolen fairy dust and a few coins?"
"We lost some valuable stuff," Finian started to explain, but again Draelond cut him off.
"Perhaps I misjudged you, Archer," the warrior said with a disgusted scowl on his face. "I took you for a good man who cared about the difference between good and evil, but you're starting to look to me like a greedy little troll who cares about possessions first and foremost."
For a moment Finian just glared up at the man, but both Kirnoth and Ledare had seen him interact enough times with Soriah to know that the incident was far from over. The muscles in the Archer's jaw bunched as he clenched his teeth and his ears seemed almost to glow as they suffused with blood. For a moment, there was something wild in his eyes, but it passed quickly and when he spoke, his voice was surprisingly even. "I am mad that Omrixx stole our ability to fight as well as we could," he said, his voice eerily calm. "I am also upset that I risked my life against these evil opponents to save that rogue's life."
"We all-" Draelond began and this time Finian cut him off.
"Additionally," the Archer said, "I do not like being talked to in the tone of voice you just addressed me in. No matter how big you are or think you are I do not wish my motives to be questioned in such a way. I do not like being talked to that way. I will forgive it as I too feel some pain at the way those people were butchered."
"I don't think any of us was unaffected by the sight of such evil," Ledare said, disarming the situation in her diplomatic way. Draelond and Finian stopped their staring contest and looked instead at the Janissary.
"Yes," the Battleguard agreed, speaking for the first time. "The spread of the Taint, is a grievous concern to me."
"Ruze, do you know what those symbols meant?" Finian asked. "And no evasive answers this time."
"Those symbols were ancient marks of Chaos meant to disrupt and corrupt," the cleric told him gravely. "Did you notice how if you looked at them too long your eyes kind of went cross-eyed and your stomach turned? That is the mark of chaos."
The others looked at one another for some confirmation of the symptoms that the Battleguard had mentioned. But only Ruze had felt the affects he described and all they could do was shrug.
"Was there actually human meat in there?" Finian asked. "We kind of just jumped to that assumption."
"That I do not know," Ruze admitted. "But I suspect this was the first step to subtly infuse the Taint of chaos in the normal law abiding citizens. People often mistakenly assume the assault of Chaos to be a blunt hammer, and it can be. But often it is more insidious - corrupting from within by preying on our faults, our greed, our power, our hubris."
A weighty silence settled over the room at the cleric's pronouncement. While the rest of the group sat, watching in silence, Draelond took the opportunity to voice his opinion. He spoke quietly and evenly with renewed calm and said, "I think we need to ride to Othelwood as soon as we can."
Ledare nodded. "Since the festival is only on for one more day, we don't have time to waste resting," she said. "I too say we seek out this birth in Othelwood."
"I feel I should report this to Nasser-Ubeen," Ruze announced. "Let me locate a runner to give him the message, whilst we be on the way to stop the birth. I fear we do not have time to waste."
Finian looked annoyed but he too nodded. "Considering the amount of time left, perhaps dealing with Omrixx should wait," he said, looking pointedly at Draelond as he did so. "That is of course unless Kirnoth needs those books very badly."
"Do not worry about me, Finian," Kirnoth said. "I am not powerless without my books."
"What do you plan to do without any spells?" the Archer questioned, but Ruze spoke before the elf could answer.
"My spelling brother, do you have a God you pray to?" the cleric asked. "For methinks you will have to start praying for your miracles now."
Finian grimaced at the Battleguard's suggestion and offered, "Kirnoth, do you have any friends in Barnacus who would let you borrow spells for a price? We have the equivalent of 200 gold crowns here, plus I would be willing to give some of my gems to-"
The elf held up his slender hand to quiet everyone and with a somewhat embarrassed expression said, "Wizardry is not my only source of magic. I am also a sorcerer, although I have always focused on wizardry as most others in my family do."
Sorcerers, the others knew, wielded the same arcane magics that wizards did, but did so without the use of ancient books and tomes. Their magic came from within themselves and was shaped through the force of their own will rather than carefully learned arcane formulae.
"My grandfather, Tirnoth, was also a natural sorcerer," the elf went on. "He helped me develop my sorcery as well. While most of the other mages at Myth Drannor disagreed with him, his philosophy was: 'you can only depend on your own innate skill in a tight spot, and books can leave you'."
At that, Kirnoth smiled thinly and let out a small chuckle. "I always thought he was odd to think that way. But he was my grandfather and I loved him and so I humored him about the sorcery," he went on. "Now I finally see what he was talking about!"
"I know little of the ways of magic," Draelond admitted, "and you certainly have great worth beyond your magical abilities, but does this mean you are not still able to cast spells?"
Kirnoth nodded, "Although I can access my sorcery, I only have minor spells - cantrips you might call them - available to me until I rest."
"Will that be enough?" Ledare asked dubiously. From what little that she knew of arcane magic she seemed to remember that cantrips were the equivalent of parlor tricks.
"I'm also an elf, remember," Kirnoth told him with a smile. "And if I am to now abandon my career as a wizard, I can once again contribute to battle with something more effective than my darts. I would like to get a composite bow and arrow for distance attacks and a longsword for hand to hand combat."
"What?" Finian shouted, surprised at the mage's request but Kirnoth just grinned.
"All elves esteem the arts of swordplay and archery, Finian," he said with a wink of his violet eye. "And I'll turn 150 years old this year. I learned to swing a longsword, before you were born."
The others just looked at the elf as if they had met him for the first time.
"And since I'll be casting only the simplest of spells I believe I can wear leather armor without risk of the spells failing," he went on, moving over to the open chest that contained the suit of leathers they had found. "I can also detect magic. SO let's have a look at this. And given the upcoming battle, if it is not magical, Finian, would you have an objection to me wearing it?"
"N-no?" the Archer replied. Grinning wickedly he added, "I really suggest you keep the glove too. It would be great for you to turn our enemies to stone."
Kirnoth shook his head and closed the lid on the chest containing the Glove of Petrification. "That thing is evil, Finian," he admonished. "You saw what it did to Selejian. I'll not fall into the same trap."
While Draelond readied the group's horses, Finian and Kirnoth went to Grey House's armory and got the elf outfitted with armor and weapons. Kirnoth looked a little strange dressed so, and felt more than a little uncomfortable. "This will take some getting used to," he mused, trying to get comfortable in the binding armor. The sword, however, danced in his hands like an old friend and Finian couldn't help but laugh as he watched the elf twirl the blade expertly.
Ruze and Ledare each called for a runner and sent messages to the Temple of Shaharizod and the Janissary Guild respectively. Ledare wished to be notified in the event that Mom was captured.
Ruze's message said: "Spirit sees Mountain; No Moon overbrims; Spirit away and flows"
It was early afternoon when they rode out of Barnacus and Orin's Shield had set when they arrived at Othelwood. Despite the darkness, it wasn't difficult to spot an area along the side of the caravan trail that had been disturbed recently by horse hooves. Nearby, a broken wagon wheel leaning against a tree marked a narrow trail through the dense foliage.
As they rode into the trees, each remarked to themselves how utterly still the woods seemed. Not an insect chirped or a bird cried out. It was most unnatural. Ruze took some comfort in the fact that beams of moonlight shed by the just-passed-full Handmaiden Moon broke through the dark canopy of leaves above them as they went. But still, shadows danced everywhere as a chill wind blew through the trees. They soon rode out into a clearing, roughly sixty feet across, dominated by a dilapidated buckboard wagon covered in vines and rotten leaves. Four horses were tethered to the wagon and two men stood beside them.
As the group broke out of the trees, one of the men stepped forward and hailed the party. He was dressed in studded leather armor with a longsword at his hip. His long hair and scraggily beard and mustaches were dark and when he spoke it was with the accent of a man from Redwood. "Ho there, strangers," he called. "What would you say if I asked what brings you way out here?"
The other man, who was thin and bald and covered in heavy tattoos, leaned against the wagon, ostensibly cleaning his fingernails with the tip of a dagger. But he seemed to be studying the group with keen interest. For a moment no one spoke.
Ledare glanced around and saw that both Finian and Kirnoth were studying their surroundings carefully, perhaps expecting an ambush. Draelond was easing nonchalantly out of his saddle and Ruze was looking at her.
"Ledare, methinks you should be the one to answer this man's questions," the Battleguard said softly. His voice was rich and true, but at such a level that only she could hear him. "As you are a Janissary you might be able to suggest you are on the king's business on patrol during the festival. Of course we can be pretty sure that they are not here for good reasons."
His words struck a chord with the Janissary, and confidence washed over her as she urged her horse forward. She loosened the clasp on her riding cloak as she advanced until her armor and the tabard she wore were both easily visible in the moonlight. "There are a wide range of answers you might receive... if you were to ask that," she said noncommittally. A slight smile played cautiously across her lips. "None of which would be of much interest, I am sure."
The man looked up at her coldly and nodded. "True enough," he said, studying Ledare for a moment before stepping back and indicating the ruined wagon. "You lot can leave your horses here. The path through the woods is too overgrown to ride."
"Thank you," Ledare said and dismounted. The rest of the group did the same. As she handed the man her reigns, Ledare went on, "We're here on royal business, and the king is not one to make his matters known to everyone. But I-"
"King?" the man said as if he'd been slapped. His eyes narrowed and he shouted, "Intruders!"
Then everything started to happen at once.
The tattooed man jerked upright at once and began waving his hands and muttering strange, slippery words. He wasn't close enough to hear the invocation, but even in the poor lighting, Kirnoth recognized the somatic components of the spell being cast at once: Invisibility.
Ruze and Draelond both drew weapons and charged toward the wagon. Finian was drawing his bow and shouting in elfish, "Tira ten rashwe! Ta naa neuma!" or "Be careful! It's a trap!"
The Archer was looking to the trees, sure that hidden crossbowman were ready to assault them at any moment. He wasn't looking at the enemy mage at all. Kirnoth drew his sword and shouted back at the half-elf, "Tel'edan istar ista amin quella! Tampa ho!" or "The human wizard is casting Invisibility! Stop him!"
Finian turned and spotted the wizard just as he winked out of sight. The Archer let an arrow fly at the spot the man had just occupied and was rewarded with a cry of pain as it struck true. Unlike the ring that they had taken from Andamacles, the man didn't reappear when he was struck, and the arrow itself promptly vanished.
Ledare's longsword flashed out of its scabbard and bit into the mustachioed guard. He staggered back from the blow and tried to duck around Ledare's horse to put some cover between himself and the Janissary. Ruze's whirling scimitars met him.
One of the blades opened a bloody gash in the man's armor, but he had drawn his longsword in time to block the second steel crescent. As a result, he couldn't bring the sword around to block the descending blade of Ravager. The bastard sword split the guard open from shoulder to crotch. He let out a brief gargling sound, dropped to his knees and then fell backward onto the grass.
Finian and Kirnoth stood near one another, listening for any sign of the invisible mage. Neither Kirnoth nor Gordigan heard anything, but Finian had spent many years in the forest and he heard the ever-so-feint sound of a potion being unstoppered. "There!" he shouted and fired another arrow. Again, the mage yelped in pain as Finian miraculously scored a hit on the invisible target.
Ruze and Draelond and Ledare began to cross the clearing toward Kirnoth and Finian, but the Archer held up a hand to stop them. Their clanking armor drowned out any chance that he had of locating the invisible mage by ear.
Kirnoth was advancing toward the woods slowly, his longsword out. He had a spell prepared in his mind, but his attention was split between listening not only to the environment around him, but the mental urgings of the duckbunny tucked inside his shirt. *Over there by the trees,* Gordigan murmured in the elf's mind. *Toward Finian.*
Then Kirnoth heard it too, the soft murmuring of a spell being cast. "Acid sagitta..," the invisible mage whispered and Kirnoth recognized the spell: Acid Arrow.
"Conturbo!" the elf shouted and gestured toward the sound of the casting. A dazzling cloud of winking lights exploded in the air where Gordigan had pinpointed the mage and Kirnoth was pleased to hear the audible pop of a failed spell as the Acid Arrow was disrupted.
Finian followed up with an arrow of his own, but his uncanny luck seemed to have run out. The missile sailed off harmlessly into the trees.
Kirnoth heard the footfalls dashing off toward a narrow footpath barely visible amidst the trees. He slashed outward with his longsword, but connected only with air. Finian saw the brushes part as the mage left the clearing and he reached for another arrow; in his haste, however, he stripped off the fletchings, rendering the arrow useless and unfired.
The underbrush snapped back into place as the invisible mage dashed off into the night.
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Jon Potter
First Post
[Realms #189] Giving Chase
Cursing, Finian cast his ruined arrow aside and turned to Ledare with his hand out. "Quickly, Ledare," he cried. "Give me the ring!"
"What are you planning?" the Janissary asked as she fished the Ring of Invisibility out of her belt pouch.
"We have just given up any chance of surprise unless we catch that man!" the Archer explained excitedly. "I assume that he'll leave a pretty good trail, but I think he will keep going until he gets to the base. I can track him and it would be best if l scout out ahead."
"Tanya nae quel, Finian! Lle auta yeste lye sooruva lle," Kirnoth said. All save Ruze recognized his words as elfish for "Good idea, Finian! Go and we will follow behind you."
"Diola lle, Kirnoth," Finian replied with a nod, rather enjoying speaking elfish after so long.
The Archer took the ring from Ledare and slipped it on his finger, disappearing from view immediately. "Tie the horses so they do not flee before you follow," the Archer's disembodied voice said in the common tongue, then the brush parted where the mage had gone and Finian stepped out of the clearing.
For a moment they listened for any sound from the forest, but there was none.
"Why do I have a bad feeling about this?" Ledare asked no one in particular.
Just beyond the bushes was a well-used footpath. The Archer crouched there and examined the ground, but it was too dark to spot any tracks or spattered blood, even with his low-light vision. Still, it seemed likely that the path had been the mage's escape route, so Finian padded onward, taking care to move quietly. He didn't have to go far before he heard panting and hushed cursing up ahead. Silently as a shadow, the Archer edged toward the sounds, an arrow nocked in his bow.
"Ferking... arrows," a voice grunted, followed immediately by a stifled cry of pain. Then one of Finian's arrows clattered to the ground a few paces from the Archer's feet, appearing as if from no where. The mage was obviously somewhere on the trail ahead. "Only fit for someone too... scared to look you... in the eye when they... kill you, eh, G'zzk?"
Finian edged closer and heard a startled intake of breath some distance ahead. For a long moment, the Archer didn't move... didn't breath, just waited and listened.
"I know you're there," he heard the mage whisper in the darkness. "You can fool me, but you can't fool little, G'zzk."
That was when Finian saw the drops of blood that were blossoming darkly on the path less than five feet away from where he stood. Drip. Drip. Drip. They spattered on the path.
"He can hear you," the mage went on. "And he tells me w-"
Finian fired his arrow at the spot where he thought his Invisible opponent stood. As he fired, he became visible, but it didn't matter. His arrow struck true, and in striking, killed the mage outright. The tattooed man fell, slumped against a tree with the Archer's arrow protruding from his side. He became visible in death, and as his nerveless fingers uncurled Finian saw the glass vial that he had held in his bloodstained hand.
Cursing, Finian cast his ruined arrow aside and turned to Ledare with his hand out. "Quickly, Ledare," he cried. "Give me the ring!"
"What are you planning?" the Janissary asked as she fished the Ring of Invisibility out of her belt pouch.
"We have just given up any chance of surprise unless we catch that man!" the Archer explained excitedly. "I assume that he'll leave a pretty good trail, but I think he will keep going until he gets to the base. I can track him and it would be best if l scout out ahead."
"Tanya nae quel, Finian! Lle auta yeste lye sooruva lle," Kirnoth said. All save Ruze recognized his words as elfish for "Good idea, Finian! Go and we will follow behind you."
"Diola lle, Kirnoth," Finian replied with a nod, rather enjoying speaking elfish after so long.
The Archer took the ring from Ledare and slipped it on his finger, disappearing from view immediately. "Tie the horses so they do not flee before you follow," the Archer's disembodied voice said in the common tongue, then the brush parted where the mage had gone and Finian stepped out of the clearing.
For a moment they listened for any sound from the forest, but there was none.
"Why do I have a bad feeling about this?" Ledare asked no one in particular.
Just beyond the bushes was a well-used footpath. The Archer crouched there and examined the ground, but it was too dark to spot any tracks or spattered blood, even with his low-light vision. Still, it seemed likely that the path had been the mage's escape route, so Finian padded onward, taking care to move quietly. He didn't have to go far before he heard panting and hushed cursing up ahead. Silently as a shadow, the Archer edged toward the sounds, an arrow nocked in his bow.
"Ferking... arrows," a voice grunted, followed immediately by a stifled cry of pain. Then one of Finian's arrows clattered to the ground a few paces from the Archer's feet, appearing as if from no where. The mage was obviously somewhere on the trail ahead. "Only fit for someone too... scared to look you... in the eye when they... kill you, eh, G'zzk?"
Finian edged closer and heard a startled intake of breath some distance ahead. For a long moment, the Archer didn't move... didn't breath, just waited and listened.
"I know you're there," he heard the mage whisper in the darkness. "You can fool me, but you can't fool little, G'zzk."
That was when Finian saw the drops of blood that were blossoming darkly on the path less than five feet away from where he stood. Drip. Drip. Drip. They spattered on the path.
"He can hear you," the mage went on. "And he tells me w-"
Finian fired his arrow at the spot where he thought his Invisible opponent stood. As he fired, he became visible, but it didn't matter. His arrow struck true, and in striking, killed the mage outright. The tattooed man fell, slumped against a tree with the Archer's arrow protruding from his side. He became visible in death, and as his nerveless fingers uncurled Finian saw the glass vial that he had held in his bloodstained hand.
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Jon Potter
First Post
[Realms #190] The Ruined Keep
No one responded to Ledare's comment about her bad feeling. She sighed and hustled toward the center of the clearing. The others followed and, as she grabbed her horse's reins, they did the same. They secured their horses to the wagon alongside the others.
"If Finian is successful in stopping that man, our presence here may still be unknown," she whispered to the group. "Let's search the wagon and these horses for anything of interest and then get going after him."
They nodded and started their search. There was little to see on the horses. Three of them bore identical saddles and tack all branded with an unfamiliar symbol. The last horse was branded with the symbol of Findar's Stable and Smithy, a business both Ledare and Draelond knew operated on the outskirts of Barnacus. None of the horses held any gear of a personal nature.
The wagon, which was missing a wheel and surrounded by weeds, was also empty save for a cocked and loaded light crossbow resting behind the driver's seat. It was located conveniently near the spot where the guard had been standing when they approached. It was the same sort of wagon she'd helped pull out of the mud back in the moonsdance of Coldeven. Whether or not it was the same wagon, she couldn't say although it certainly could have been. It looked as though it had sat in its current spot for no more than a season or two.
"I find nothing of import, kitten," Ruze said, snapping her out of her intent study of the wagon.
"Nor do I," Draelond confirmed. "And I don't think we ought to spend much time with needless searches. We should press on before Finian traipses too far ahead."
"Agreed," Kirnoth said with a nod.
"Let's move quickly and quietly," Ledare added and they crossed the clearing once again.
Just then, Finian appeared from the bushes looking well pleased with himself but a little nervous at the same time, as if he feared he'd had too easy a time of it and was waiting for the other shoe to drop. He quickly explained what had transpired on the trail. "I will bet G'zzk is his familiar," the Archer said at the end of his hurried tale. "A mosquito maybe? What happens to the familiar when the wizard dies?"
"G'zzk is likely this mage's familiar," Kirnoth nodded. "He couldn't be a mosquito, though. They're too small for a mage his size. Smaller wizards - a goblin or hobbit, say - could have..."
"Kirnoth," Ledare said sharply. "I'm sorry, but we don't have time for lengthy explanations right now. Will we be in any danger from this G'zzk now that his master is dead?"
"Of course," the elf replied with a quick nod. "The familiar will become a free-willed magical beast with the wizard's death. How intelligent G'zzk remains after the link is severed will depend on the mage's power. At the very least, it is very likely that others in his party will recognize G'zzk and become alarmed if he shows up without the mage. So we must still consider that we may be coming announced."
"Great..," Finian grumbled.
"Also, if he's been bonded long enough, G'zzk might be able to talk, in which case, we're in serious trouble," Kirnoth added.
"Great..," Finian said again.
Kirnoth concentrated on maintaining the Detect Magic spell while Finian carefully went through the dead mage's belongings. Nothing radiated any immediate magic, but the corpse itself held the faintest residue of Illusion magic... the lingering remnants of the Invisibility spell he'd cast on himself. The Archer held out the two matched vials he'd found; a translucent liquid sloshed around inside them.
"Anything?" he asked quietly and Kirnoth shook his head.
As Kirnoth continued to concentrate he saw that the mage's eyes were just barely detecting as magical as was a third empty vial that Finian had uncovered. The last dregs of a potion in the vial were radiating Transmutation magic.
Finian pulled a slim, well-worn book from some kind of leather rigging that kept it affixed snuggly to the mage's back. He opened it and Kirnoth saw that the pages glowed with a rainbow of various magics. "His spellbook," the elf muttered.
"Can you use it?" Finian asked and Kirnoth shook his head again.
"Doubtful," he replied. "I'd need time to study it first anyway. It won't help us tonight."
"Well, that's everything," the Archer said, disappointed. "This pouch has about thirty gold and this one's empty!" As he said that, he upended the large pouch and something black and many-legged dropped out of it and fell to the ground.
Ledare recoiled, slamming into Ruze and nearly sending him to the ground. A shriek of terror ripped itself from somewhere deep within her and went careening through the night air. A murder of crows sleeping in the nearby trees was startled into flight and when flapping off after the sound, adding their own raucous caws to the sudden din.
Finian stamped out his foot and crushed the scorpion under his boot with a satisfying crunch.
Ledare's breathing was ragged and barely under control as she looked with horror at the broken remains of the vermin once Finian lifted his foot tentatively. She pushed herself off of Ruze, took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I thought it was a spider," she said.
Finian grimaced. "There goes our chance of sneaking up on them," he grumbled.
"At least we don't need to worry about G'zzk anymore," Kirnoth added.
"We ought to push onward," Draelond suggested. "All of this distracts us from our goal."
They took Draelond's suggestion and pressed on along the trail, and although Finian could find no tracks in the near darkness, he surmised that this path was likely the way to the enemy base. He and Kirnoth (being the only two who had any real hope of moving quietly) trotted along some distance ahead of the others, mindful of any noises in the trees. They heard none, which, to Finian was a clear indication that there was something unnatural about Othelwood.
"Wait," Kirnoth hissed at Finian's back and the Archer skidded to a stop a few paces further on along the trail.
"What is it?" he asked as he rejoined Kirnoth beside a tangle of thorns.
"This doesn't seem right, does it?" the elf muttered, indicating the bush without any real clue as to why he thought that. His keen elfish eyes had spotted something out-of-place.
Finian looked at the brambles, squatting down low to look at it from several different angles before he withdrew one of his throwing knives and cut a cleverly concealed bit of twine. The thorny bush, which was really two thorny bushes tied together, snapped back from a side path that snaked away through the brambles. Despite the darkness, Finian was immediately able to discern that a number of man-sized humanoids had used the path recently. The mud from the rainfall three nights ago had mostly hardened, but there were fresh tracks overlaying the deeper ones that had been made when the mud was wet.
"Good eyes, Kirnoth," Finian said, getting back to his feet. "Let's wait here until the others catch up and then we'll head this way. It seems our best bet."
The new trail threaded along through thick brambles and weeds and tightly packed yarpick trees for over a quarter of a mile and as they traveled, everyone began to feel better about the chances that perhaps Ledare's scream had gone unheard. Finian also felt confident that any would-be ambushers would announce their presence long before they reached him. Movement off the path was sure to be noisy. They followed the path until it emptied into a shallow, bowl-shaped valley surrounded on all sides by wooded hills.
Meruna, the Handmaiden Moon, shown her silver radiance on the valley and by her light, even Draelond and Ruze could see that in the center of the valley, surrounded by a moss-covered moat squatted the ancient ruins of a keep.
The aged structure had a 10-foot high stone wall around it that had crumbled away in sections, revealing a weed-choked courtyard beyond. A stone bridge arched over the moat, directly before the remains of a small gatehouse that was in horrible disrepair. One bronzewood door lay on the ground, and the other dangled from one rusted hinge. The moat was at least 60 ft. from the edge of the forest, and they could just see the remains of an ancient wagon path that led up to the stone bridge. The rutted path had now been mostly reclaimed by the short scrubgrass that covered the bowl of the valley floor.
Everything was deathly still and utterly quiet as if the very forest were holding its breath in fearful anticipation.
No one responded to Ledare's comment about her bad feeling. She sighed and hustled toward the center of the clearing. The others followed and, as she grabbed her horse's reins, they did the same. They secured their horses to the wagon alongside the others.
"If Finian is successful in stopping that man, our presence here may still be unknown," she whispered to the group. "Let's search the wagon and these horses for anything of interest and then get going after him."
They nodded and started their search. There was little to see on the horses. Three of them bore identical saddles and tack all branded with an unfamiliar symbol. The last horse was branded with the symbol of Findar's Stable and Smithy, a business both Ledare and Draelond knew operated on the outskirts of Barnacus. None of the horses held any gear of a personal nature.
The wagon, which was missing a wheel and surrounded by weeds, was also empty save for a cocked and loaded light crossbow resting behind the driver's seat. It was located conveniently near the spot where the guard had been standing when they approached. It was the same sort of wagon she'd helped pull out of the mud back in the moonsdance of Coldeven. Whether or not it was the same wagon, she couldn't say although it certainly could have been. It looked as though it had sat in its current spot for no more than a season or two.
"I find nothing of import, kitten," Ruze said, snapping her out of her intent study of the wagon.
"Nor do I," Draelond confirmed. "And I don't think we ought to spend much time with needless searches. We should press on before Finian traipses too far ahead."
"Agreed," Kirnoth said with a nod.
"Let's move quickly and quietly," Ledare added and they crossed the clearing once again.
Just then, Finian appeared from the bushes looking well pleased with himself but a little nervous at the same time, as if he feared he'd had too easy a time of it and was waiting for the other shoe to drop. He quickly explained what had transpired on the trail. "I will bet G'zzk is his familiar," the Archer said at the end of his hurried tale. "A mosquito maybe? What happens to the familiar when the wizard dies?"
"G'zzk is likely this mage's familiar," Kirnoth nodded. "He couldn't be a mosquito, though. They're too small for a mage his size. Smaller wizards - a goblin or hobbit, say - could have..."
"Kirnoth," Ledare said sharply. "I'm sorry, but we don't have time for lengthy explanations right now. Will we be in any danger from this G'zzk now that his master is dead?"
"Of course," the elf replied with a quick nod. "The familiar will become a free-willed magical beast with the wizard's death. How intelligent G'zzk remains after the link is severed will depend on the mage's power. At the very least, it is very likely that others in his party will recognize G'zzk and become alarmed if he shows up without the mage. So we must still consider that we may be coming announced."
"Great..," Finian grumbled.
"Also, if he's been bonded long enough, G'zzk might be able to talk, in which case, we're in serious trouble," Kirnoth added.
"Great..," Finian said again.
Kirnoth concentrated on maintaining the Detect Magic spell while Finian carefully went through the dead mage's belongings. Nothing radiated any immediate magic, but the corpse itself held the faintest residue of Illusion magic... the lingering remnants of the Invisibility spell he'd cast on himself. The Archer held out the two matched vials he'd found; a translucent liquid sloshed around inside them.
"Anything?" he asked quietly and Kirnoth shook his head.
As Kirnoth continued to concentrate he saw that the mage's eyes were just barely detecting as magical as was a third empty vial that Finian had uncovered. The last dregs of a potion in the vial were radiating Transmutation magic.
Finian pulled a slim, well-worn book from some kind of leather rigging that kept it affixed snuggly to the mage's back. He opened it and Kirnoth saw that the pages glowed with a rainbow of various magics. "His spellbook," the elf muttered.
"Can you use it?" Finian asked and Kirnoth shook his head again.
"Doubtful," he replied. "I'd need time to study it first anyway. It won't help us tonight."
"Well, that's everything," the Archer said, disappointed. "This pouch has about thirty gold and this one's empty!" As he said that, he upended the large pouch and something black and many-legged dropped out of it and fell to the ground.
Ledare recoiled, slamming into Ruze and nearly sending him to the ground. A shriek of terror ripped itself from somewhere deep within her and went careening through the night air. A murder of crows sleeping in the nearby trees was startled into flight and when flapping off after the sound, adding their own raucous caws to the sudden din.
Finian stamped out his foot and crushed the scorpion under his boot with a satisfying crunch.
Ledare's breathing was ragged and barely under control as she looked with horror at the broken remains of the vermin once Finian lifted his foot tentatively. She pushed herself off of Ruze, took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I thought it was a spider," she said.
Finian grimaced. "There goes our chance of sneaking up on them," he grumbled.
"At least we don't need to worry about G'zzk anymore," Kirnoth added.
"We ought to push onward," Draelond suggested. "All of this distracts us from our goal."
They took Draelond's suggestion and pressed on along the trail, and although Finian could find no tracks in the near darkness, he surmised that this path was likely the way to the enemy base. He and Kirnoth (being the only two who had any real hope of moving quietly) trotted along some distance ahead of the others, mindful of any noises in the trees. They heard none, which, to Finian was a clear indication that there was something unnatural about Othelwood.
"Wait," Kirnoth hissed at Finian's back and the Archer skidded to a stop a few paces further on along the trail.
"What is it?" he asked as he rejoined Kirnoth beside a tangle of thorns.
"This doesn't seem right, does it?" the elf muttered, indicating the bush without any real clue as to why he thought that. His keen elfish eyes had spotted something out-of-place.
Finian looked at the brambles, squatting down low to look at it from several different angles before he withdrew one of his throwing knives and cut a cleverly concealed bit of twine. The thorny bush, which was really two thorny bushes tied together, snapped back from a side path that snaked away through the brambles. Despite the darkness, Finian was immediately able to discern that a number of man-sized humanoids had used the path recently. The mud from the rainfall three nights ago had mostly hardened, but there were fresh tracks overlaying the deeper ones that had been made when the mud was wet.
"Good eyes, Kirnoth," Finian said, getting back to his feet. "Let's wait here until the others catch up and then we'll head this way. It seems our best bet."
The new trail threaded along through thick brambles and weeds and tightly packed yarpick trees for over a quarter of a mile and as they traveled, everyone began to feel better about the chances that perhaps Ledare's scream had gone unheard. Finian also felt confident that any would-be ambushers would announce their presence long before they reached him. Movement off the path was sure to be noisy. They followed the path until it emptied into a shallow, bowl-shaped valley surrounded on all sides by wooded hills.
Meruna, the Handmaiden Moon, shown her silver radiance on the valley and by her light, even Draelond and Ruze could see that in the center of the valley, surrounded by a moss-covered moat squatted the ancient ruins of a keep.
The aged structure had a 10-foot high stone wall around it that had crumbled away in sections, revealing a weed-choked courtyard beyond. A stone bridge arched over the moat, directly before the remains of a small gatehouse that was in horrible disrepair. One bronzewood door lay on the ground, and the other dangled from one rusted hinge. The moat was at least 60 ft. from the edge of the forest, and they could just see the remains of an ancient wagon path that led up to the stone bridge. The rutted path had now been mostly reclaimed by the short scrubgrass that covered the bowl of the valley floor.
Everything was deathly still and utterly quiet as if the very forest were holding its breath in fearful anticipation.
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Jon Potter
First Post
[Realms #191] The Smell of Fear
It was Finian who broke the oppressive silence.
"I have come through here with Grmnmral on our way to Barnacus," he told the others in a hushed whisper. "I went out to hunt and I must have passed out somewhere and I woke up in the morning. I had weird dreams of sheep bleating and blood from one of my wounds opened up." He absently touched his forehead where he'd been cut by a thief's knife all those moonsdances ago. "It was spooky," he concluded.
Ledare looked around at the wood and the ruin before them. "That much has remained unchanged," she said. Then, looking at each of her companions in turn, she added, "Suggestions?"
Finian squinted at the keep and said, "They may not have heard us, but we should watch a little since I am sure they have look outs and traps set. They seem very concerned about hiding themselves. We should approach with caution."
Ledare nodded and Kirnoth added, "When we get closer, I will use Detect Magic to determine if there are spells around this place. I will also keep my bow ready and stay alert for 'snipers'."
"Good idea," the Janissary said and Draelond spoke.
"Perhaps, Kirnoth and Finian, while the two of you check out the keep below, I'll go with you to keep watch. I don't like the feel of this place a bit," Draelond whispered, hating the thought of what he was saying "but it may be the only hope we have of finding where we ought to go from here." He bared Ravager's hungry, saw-toothed blade and held the bastard sword in his grip so tightly his knuckles lost color immediately. "I'll be as quiet as I am able," he added, "but a bull doesn't tiptoe through a glassblower's shop without being noticed."
"Are you thinking it would be wise for Ruze and I to stay behind?" Ledare asked. "For what purpose?"
Draelond shrugged. "The noise of our armor..," he began, but a shake of Ledare's head cut him off.
"If, indeed you tiptoe like a bull, there seems to be no reason why we all shouldn't go," the Janissary contradicted. "It looks too quiet and still to let just the three of you go on ahead. We'll all go."
She looked at Ruze and said, "Unless you have another idea, Ruze."
The Battleguard shook his head. "You're the Janissary," he said again. "I follow your lead."
"Perhaps Finian can take the ring and slip slightly ahead to scout things out," Ledare suggested and the Archer was already nodding his assent.
"I will gladly go ahead," he said, fingering the Ring of Invisibility. "It may be a good idea to check for traps on the bridge. They seem to really want to guard this place, so it could be trapped. Give me time to go ahead and do that. Then follow."
"We'll let you give you until a count of fifty before we follow," Ledare told him. "I don't want us to get too separated."
Finian considered this before slipping on the Ring and vanishing. "Fair enough," his disembodied voice told them, "but do not be afraid when I whisper. I have been in this woods before and it is spooky."
The nearly prophetic irony of his words was, for the time being, lost on the Archer of the Green.
Invisibly, Finian moved diagonally down the gentle slope to the valley floor. The grass, painted silver in the radiant light of Meruna, was already slick with dew, and it made the footing somewhat less than steady. But he made it all the way to the remains of the rutted wagon track in front of the gatehouse without losing his footing, and he crept forward even as Ledare reached her mental count of fifty.
"Let's go," she hissed to the others and they started down the bowl of the valley.
"Careful," Kirnoth muttered. "It's slippery here."
The bridge was made of weather-worn stone and covered with dead vines. It arched ten feet above the stagnant floor of the moat. Below, Finian could see the Handmaiden Moon reflected in the black mirrors of standing water. On the other side of the bridge yawned the open maw of the gatehouse. Two 10-foot-tall bronzewood doors once protected the gateway, but no more. One door hung precariously on a single rusted hinge and the other had fallen entirely to the ground and lay half-hidden amidst some high weeds. A shattered and collapsed wooden walkway hung uselessly over the doors. Years of apparent disuse had taken a heavy toll on the bridge itself, but it seemed sound.
Finian glanced back over his shoulder and saw the others moving inelegantly down the slope toward the bridge. Kirnoth was doing a good job of staying inconspicuous despite the open terrain. The others were having a harder time of it and Ledare's armor actually seemed to be sending back flashes of reflected moonlight as she moved.
The Archer gritted his teeth and began checking the bridge for any traps. He thought at first that perhaps the vine was some sort of living guardian for the keep. But it was just a thorny vine, long dead from the black rot that had stricken it. The lighting was poor, but he did his best to spot any tripwires or pressure plates. He completely missed the odd symbol drawn on the bridge stone in human feces until he discharged the Glyph of Warding.
They had taken a little more time than was absolutely necessary in order to prevent each other from slipping in the wet grass and falling to the ground in a clattering, jangling pile. Consequently, the others had just reached the rutted trail when they heard the girl scream.
Only it wasn't a girl as they all thought. It was Finian and he ran passed them all, invisibly, gibbering in terror. They couldn't see him to stop him, but they all heard a loud crashing sound as he slammed into the thick brambles that choked the woods at the edge of the valley.
"Dammit," Ledare had time to say as she listened to the Archer smashing his way off randomly through the trees. Then the first volley of crossbow bolts whistled through the air around them. Three quarrels thudded into the weeds - one each, at Ledare's, Draelond's and Ruze's feet.
A quick glance across the bridge revealed movement in the courtyard beyond the partially collapsed curtain wall. Two men in chainmail were drawing longswords and moving out through the gateway. Behind them stood another fellow dressed in leathers who was cocking back the lever on his light crossbow.
It was Finian who broke the oppressive silence.
"I have come through here with Grmnmral on our way to Barnacus," he told the others in a hushed whisper. "I went out to hunt and I must have passed out somewhere and I woke up in the morning. I had weird dreams of sheep bleating and blood from one of my wounds opened up." He absently touched his forehead where he'd been cut by a thief's knife all those moonsdances ago. "It was spooky," he concluded.
Ledare looked around at the wood and the ruin before them. "That much has remained unchanged," she said. Then, looking at each of her companions in turn, she added, "Suggestions?"
Finian squinted at the keep and said, "They may not have heard us, but we should watch a little since I am sure they have look outs and traps set. They seem very concerned about hiding themselves. We should approach with caution."
Ledare nodded and Kirnoth added, "When we get closer, I will use Detect Magic to determine if there are spells around this place. I will also keep my bow ready and stay alert for 'snipers'."
"Good idea," the Janissary said and Draelond spoke.
"Perhaps, Kirnoth and Finian, while the two of you check out the keep below, I'll go with you to keep watch. I don't like the feel of this place a bit," Draelond whispered, hating the thought of what he was saying "but it may be the only hope we have of finding where we ought to go from here." He bared Ravager's hungry, saw-toothed blade and held the bastard sword in his grip so tightly his knuckles lost color immediately. "I'll be as quiet as I am able," he added, "but a bull doesn't tiptoe through a glassblower's shop without being noticed."
"Are you thinking it would be wise for Ruze and I to stay behind?" Ledare asked. "For what purpose?"
Draelond shrugged. "The noise of our armor..," he began, but a shake of Ledare's head cut him off.
"If, indeed you tiptoe like a bull, there seems to be no reason why we all shouldn't go," the Janissary contradicted. "It looks too quiet and still to let just the three of you go on ahead. We'll all go."
She looked at Ruze and said, "Unless you have another idea, Ruze."
The Battleguard shook his head. "You're the Janissary," he said again. "I follow your lead."
"Perhaps Finian can take the ring and slip slightly ahead to scout things out," Ledare suggested and the Archer was already nodding his assent.
"I will gladly go ahead," he said, fingering the Ring of Invisibility. "It may be a good idea to check for traps on the bridge. They seem to really want to guard this place, so it could be trapped. Give me time to go ahead and do that. Then follow."
"We'll let you give you until a count of fifty before we follow," Ledare told him. "I don't want us to get too separated."
Finian considered this before slipping on the Ring and vanishing. "Fair enough," his disembodied voice told them, "but do not be afraid when I whisper. I have been in this woods before and it is spooky."
The nearly prophetic irony of his words was, for the time being, lost on the Archer of the Green.
Invisibly, Finian moved diagonally down the gentle slope to the valley floor. The grass, painted silver in the radiant light of Meruna, was already slick with dew, and it made the footing somewhat less than steady. But he made it all the way to the remains of the rutted wagon track in front of the gatehouse without losing his footing, and he crept forward even as Ledare reached her mental count of fifty.
"Let's go," she hissed to the others and they started down the bowl of the valley.
"Careful," Kirnoth muttered. "It's slippery here."
The bridge was made of weather-worn stone and covered with dead vines. It arched ten feet above the stagnant floor of the moat. Below, Finian could see the Handmaiden Moon reflected in the black mirrors of standing water. On the other side of the bridge yawned the open maw of the gatehouse. Two 10-foot-tall bronzewood doors once protected the gateway, but no more. One door hung precariously on a single rusted hinge and the other had fallen entirely to the ground and lay half-hidden amidst some high weeds. A shattered and collapsed wooden walkway hung uselessly over the doors. Years of apparent disuse had taken a heavy toll on the bridge itself, but it seemed sound.
Finian glanced back over his shoulder and saw the others moving inelegantly down the slope toward the bridge. Kirnoth was doing a good job of staying inconspicuous despite the open terrain. The others were having a harder time of it and Ledare's armor actually seemed to be sending back flashes of reflected moonlight as she moved.
The Archer gritted his teeth and began checking the bridge for any traps. He thought at first that perhaps the vine was some sort of living guardian for the keep. But it was just a thorny vine, long dead from the black rot that had stricken it. The lighting was poor, but he did his best to spot any tripwires or pressure plates. He completely missed the odd symbol drawn on the bridge stone in human feces until he discharged the Glyph of Warding.
They had taken a little more time than was absolutely necessary in order to prevent each other from slipping in the wet grass and falling to the ground in a clattering, jangling pile. Consequently, the others had just reached the rutted trail when they heard the girl scream.
Only it wasn't a girl as they all thought. It was Finian and he ran passed them all, invisibly, gibbering in terror. They couldn't see him to stop him, but they all heard a loud crashing sound as he slammed into the thick brambles that choked the woods at the edge of the valley.
"Dammit," Ledare had time to say as she listened to the Archer smashing his way off randomly through the trees. Then the first volley of crossbow bolts whistled through the air around them. Three quarrels thudded into the weeds - one each, at Ledare's, Draelond's and Ruze's feet.
A quick glance across the bridge revealed movement in the courtyard beyond the partially collapsed curtain wall. Two men in chainmail were drawing longswords and moving out through the gateway. Behind them stood another fellow dressed in leathers who was cocking back the lever on his light crossbow.
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Jon Potter
First Post
[Realms #192] Storming the Keep
Ledare's sword was in her hand in an instant. "Ruze, Kirnoth see if there is anything you can do to the crossbowman from a distance," she said, her voice calm but commanding at the same time. "Draelond, you're with me."
She went to meet the two men charging them across the bridge.
"No arrow has been pointed in my direction, so I assume they have not seen-" Kirnoth began, but was cut off as a crossbow bolt whistled over his head. He gulped and looked back at the quarrel thrust into the earth behind him. "Scratch that," he concluded and readied his bow.
As the elf moved cautiously toward the bridge, Draelond was cocking back the lever on his own crossbow and Ruze muttered a hasty prayer to Shaharizod.
Then the two enemy warriors were upon Ledare.
Expertly, she sidestepped the first man's wild swing, ducking under the blow and coming around on his unprotected flank. Her silver-iron longsword tore through his chainmail as if it were parchment and he fell lifeless to the ground at her feet. His compatriot, however, used the Janissary's momentary distraction to land a solid, but hardly life-threatening, blow of his own.
A bolt from Draelond's crossbow sailed to Ledare's right and disappeared into the moat. Ruze appeared at the big man's side and laid a hand on his forearm. "Now, listen up, without Finian here, we are one less," the Battleguard barked. "But, Draelond, with your strength I know we will prevail. With Shaharizod as my Queen, I bless thee. Now follow me!"
Draelond didn't need convincing, and he moved forward, unsheathing Ravager as he went.
"Kael's Loom!" Kirnoth cried out as another crossbow bolt thudded into the ground at his feet. The elf raised his bow to return fire, but the man had ducked back behind the corner of the gatehouse's right-hand tower. Kirnoth held his bow drawn and waited for the man to reappear.
Ledare swung her sword at the second warrior, and her blade darted in low beneath his shield and drew blood from the man's thigh. Before he could return the blow, Draelond was there and he swung his massive bastard sword at the man. Somehow, the out-numbered warrior managed to raise his shield and deflect the blow away although Ravager's jagged teeth gauged into the wooden device. The man's longsword cleaved ineffectually through the air.
Ruze ignored the melee and walked resolutely across the bridge toward the gatehouse. The crossbowman darted out from behind the wall, spotted Ruze and raised his crossbow. Kirnoth let fly with his arrow. But it had been too many years since he'd last used a bow and his arrow clattered harmlessly off the gatehouse wall. The crossbowman seemed ignorant of the attempt on his life; he sighted down his weapon at Ruze... but was unable to fire. Ruze scowled at him, and cursing, the man ducked back behind his cover.
Ledare and Draelond exchanged misses with the grim-faced swordsman. Steel rang on steel, but no one landed a blow. Kirnoth ducked around the combat and followed behind the Battleguard, nocking another arrow as he went.
There was still no sign of Finian.
"Ursh! Get out here!" they all heard a voice cry out from inside the keep. "One of 'em's a spellcaster! We could use a little mojo!" Only Ruze was close enough to hear the sound of retreating footfalls coming from the other side of the wall.
As the swordsman momentarily directed his attention at Draelond, Ledare's blade slashed across the man's throat, dropping him to the ground amidst a spray of blood.
"Well struck," Draelond said with a nod.
Ruze drew his twin scimitars as he felt the power of his Sanctuary spell recede. Beyond the ruined gate lay a courtyard choked with dead weeds. Off to the right was what looked like a well, covered with moss and decaying vines. Straight ahead was the main keep itself; it had seen better days. The fieldstone walls of the dilapidated, two-story structure had weakened in many areas, leaving large cracks and gaping holes. Many sections of the roof had completely collapsed, exposing rotten timbers and leaving shingles and planks scattered around the base of the building.
The Battleguard spotted a shadowy figure dart inside the structure. Kirnoth saw it too and he let loose with another arrow, but it struck earth well away from the retreating figure.
The elf glanced back over his shoulder and saw that Ledare and Draelond were hustling across the bridge toward them. He and Ruze stepped forward through the remains of the gateway, and blundered into a low-hanging string that was hung amidst the weeds that grew between the two towers. Small bells that depended from the string rang out loudly as they were disturbed.
"Oops," Ruze began, but an instant later a new voice cried out from the shadow of the ruined keep.
"Hold, intruders!" the voice cried out in thickly-accented common. "Taste the doom that awaits all who trespass on her sacred ground! Taste it and tremble!"
Ruze felt an unholy spell wash over him, but his faith in the Silver Queen bolstered his will and the enchantment failed to take hold. "It is you who will tremble before the divine might of Shaharizod!" the Battleguard bellowed and charged forward.
A quarrel whistled passed Ruze's head, nearly parting his hair as it went and then he saw the enemy cleric, a bald half-orc dressed in brown robes trimmed in yellow. An unholy symbol of Aphyx hung around his neck and he stepped forward with a quarterstaff to meet Ruze's challenge.
Kirnoth raised his bow to fire, but found that, somehow, he lacked the will to attack the half-caste. Much as he wanted to, he just couldn't loose the arrow. Draelond and Ledare rushed passed the elf, following on Ruze's heels.
Ledare's sword was in her hand in an instant. "Ruze, Kirnoth see if there is anything you can do to the crossbowman from a distance," she said, her voice calm but commanding at the same time. "Draelond, you're with me."
She went to meet the two men charging them across the bridge.
"No arrow has been pointed in my direction, so I assume they have not seen-" Kirnoth began, but was cut off as a crossbow bolt whistled over his head. He gulped and looked back at the quarrel thrust into the earth behind him. "Scratch that," he concluded and readied his bow.
As the elf moved cautiously toward the bridge, Draelond was cocking back the lever on his own crossbow and Ruze muttered a hasty prayer to Shaharizod.
Then the two enemy warriors were upon Ledare.
Expertly, she sidestepped the first man's wild swing, ducking under the blow and coming around on his unprotected flank. Her silver-iron longsword tore through his chainmail as if it were parchment and he fell lifeless to the ground at her feet. His compatriot, however, used the Janissary's momentary distraction to land a solid, but hardly life-threatening, blow of his own.
A bolt from Draelond's crossbow sailed to Ledare's right and disappeared into the moat. Ruze appeared at the big man's side and laid a hand on his forearm. "Now, listen up, without Finian here, we are one less," the Battleguard barked. "But, Draelond, with your strength I know we will prevail. With Shaharizod as my Queen, I bless thee. Now follow me!"
Draelond didn't need convincing, and he moved forward, unsheathing Ravager as he went.
"Kael's Loom!" Kirnoth cried out as another crossbow bolt thudded into the ground at his feet. The elf raised his bow to return fire, but the man had ducked back behind the corner of the gatehouse's right-hand tower. Kirnoth held his bow drawn and waited for the man to reappear.
Ledare swung her sword at the second warrior, and her blade darted in low beneath his shield and drew blood from the man's thigh. Before he could return the blow, Draelond was there and he swung his massive bastard sword at the man. Somehow, the out-numbered warrior managed to raise his shield and deflect the blow away although Ravager's jagged teeth gauged into the wooden device. The man's longsword cleaved ineffectually through the air.
Ruze ignored the melee and walked resolutely across the bridge toward the gatehouse. The crossbowman darted out from behind the wall, spotted Ruze and raised his crossbow. Kirnoth let fly with his arrow. But it had been too many years since he'd last used a bow and his arrow clattered harmlessly off the gatehouse wall. The crossbowman seemed ignorant of the attempt on his life; he sighted down his weapon at Ruze... but was unable to fire. Ruze scowled at him, and cursing, the man ducked back behind his cover.
Ledare and Draelond exchanged misses with the grim-faced swordsman. Steel rang on steel, but no one landed a blow. Kirnoth ducked around the combat and followed behind the Battleguard, nocking another arrow as he went.
There was still no sign of Finian.
"Ursh! Get out here!" they all heard a voice cry out from inside the keep. "One of 'em's a spellcaster! We could use a little mojo!" Only Ruze was close enough to hear the sound of retreating footfalls coming from the other side of the wall.
As the swordsman momentarily directed his attention at Draelond, Ledare's blade slashed across the man's throat, dropping him to the ground amidst a spray of blood.
"Well struck," Draelond said with a nod.
Ruze drew his twin scimitars as he felt the power of his Sanctuary spell recede. Beyond the ruined gate lay a courtyard choked with dead weeds. Off to the right was what looked like a well, covered with moss and decaying vines. Straight ahead was the main keep itself; it had seen better days. The fieldstone walls of the dilapidated, two-story structure had weakened in many areas, leaving large cracks and gaping holes. Many sections of the roof had completely collapsed, exposing rotten timbers and leaving shingles and planks scattered around the base of the building.
The Battleguard spotted a shadowy figure dart inside the structure. Kirnoth saw it too and he let loose with another arrow, but it struck earth well away from the retreating figure.
The elf glanced back over his shoulder and saw that Ledare and Draelond were hustling across the bridge toward them. He and Ruze stepped forward through the remains of the gateway, and blundered into a low-hanging string that was hung amidst the weeds that grew between the two towers. Small bells that depended from the string rang out loudly as they were disturbed.
"Oops," Ruze began, but an instant later a new voice cried out from the shadow of the ruined keep.
"Hold, intruders!" the voice cried out in thickly-accented common. "Taste the doom that awaits all who trespass on her sacred ground! Taste it and tremble!"
Ruze felt an unholy spell wash over him, but his faith in the Silver Queen bolstered his will and the enchantment failed to take hold. "It is you who will tremble before the divine might of Shaharizod!" the Battleguard bellowed and charged forward.
A quarrel whistled passed Ruze's head, nearly parting his hair as it went and then he saw the enemy cleric, a bald half-orc dressed in brown robes trimmed in yellow. An unholy symbol of Aphyx hung around his neck and he stepped forward with a quarterstaff to meet Ruze's challenge.
Kirnoth raised his bow to fire, but found that, somehow, he lacked the will to attack the half-caste. Much as he wanted to, he just couldn't loose the arrow. Draelond and Ledare rushed passed the elf, following on Ruze's heels.
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Jon Potter
First Post
[Realms #193] Aphyx & Arrows
"Behold, the power of Shaharizod," the Battleguard bellowed as he raised the scimitar in his right hand and leveled it at the half-orc. "Behold, as I smite thee."
A blackish-green smile split the Plaguebringer's face as Ruze approached. And it was only then that Ruze heard the half-orc muttering a prayer under his breath. Enraged, Ruze lashed out using one of the forms he'd been taught in the temple: Wind Over Mountain. His scimitars flickered in the moonlight opening bloody gashes in the half-orc's pox-marked flesh. The Plaguebringer cried out in pain and with a gasp his prayer went unfinished and unanswered. "As my heart is pure with her love so is my aim!" Ruze grinned as the cleric took a retaliatory swing at him. It missed by a wide margin.
Ledare reached the melee a few paces ahead of Draelond and stabbed her sword at Ursh, aiming for the hideous symbol of the goddess of pestilence that hung loosely about his neck. She was taken momentarily aback by the superior martial display that Ruze was exhibiting with his twin crescents. She missed completely.
"Kitten, assure you stand outside the range of the twin moon blades lest I cut your silky skin," Ruze quipped jauntily. "Draelond, I suggest you do the same although your appearance alas would be improved with a few more scars. Ha!"
Draelond grinned at the cleric's comment as he stepped up to the half-orc's flank and raised Ravager. "I'll follow you to battle anywhere, Ruze," Draelond yelled, preparing to chop handily through the malformed Plaguebringer. He found himself unable to swing the blade as much as he wished it. The bastard sword trembled above his head and he grew red-faced with effort, but he was forced, at last, to stagger away from the melee.
Kirnoth approached and called out, "I can't attack him either."
As Draelond turned to address the elf, another crossbow bolt was deflected by the big man's chainmail. "There are other foes!" Draelond observed. "We'd all be served to keep half-an-eye on that shooter in the crow's nest up above!!"
"I've been trying," Kirnoth admitted, "It's coming from the ruins of the upper floor, but I can't see exactly where."
Draelond angled his head toward the base of the keep and started in that direction. "We'll have some cover if we're closer to the wall," he told Kirnoth. "Keep your eyes open for any sign of the shooter."
The elf hesitated. "What about Ruze and Ledare?" he asked, reluctant to leave them on their own.
"We're no good to them in battle with a foe we can't attack," the warrior asserted and Kirnoth had no choice but to agree.
As it turned out, Kirnoth's fears about leaving Ledare and Ruze alone with the half-orc were unfounded. Ursh did his best to concentrate on the miracle he was attempting at the same time as he avoided the harrying blades of his two adversaries. His best fell far short of what was necessary... on both accounts. His spell fizzled with a pop and a momentary whiff of brimstone and Ruze's twin scimitars cut him to ribbons in the very next instant.
The Battleguard paused long enough to spit on the stinking corpse before he and Ledare went to follow on Draelond and Kirnoth's heels.
The stairs leading up to the nearly non-existent second floor were strewn with debris. Fallen timbers and crumbling blocks of stone competed with drifts of powdered mortar and piles of broken shingles. Draelond nearly fell as he tried to step over a precariously balanced beam. It was a little cluttered to swing a sword as big as Ravager and certainly no place for Kirnoth to use his long bow.
The elf propped his bow against the wall and switched to his longsword as he and Draelond moved out amidst the debris from the fallen roof. They moved side-by-side, each looking and listening for some sign of the shooter, but the clattering of Ruze's scale and Ledare's plate armor climbing ungainly up the steps made hearing anything almost impossible.
Kirnoth turned to hush his two companions when the hidden figure struck, leaping from behind a partially-collapsed wall and stabbing at Kirnoth with a shortsword. Miraculously, the elf's leather armor managed to turn away the point of the blade, sparing Kirnoth a pierced kidney.
The elf whirled and thrust outward with his longsword and felt the blade strike true. Staggered, the shadowy assailant was in a poor position to avoid Draelond's attack. The bastard sword, too found its target, but Draelond could see little in the darkness and the blow was only a slight one.
The figure darted back behind the cover provided by the outcropping of wall and vanished again from sight.
In the courtyard below, only Finian saw the shadowy figure creeping along the outer wall of the keep's second story, silently maneuvering into a position behind Draelond and Kirnoth. He trotted into point blank range, drew back an arrow and fired. He became visible an instant before his missile struck the shadowy figure in the center of the back.
For a moment, the man clawed and clutched at the wall, trying to maintain his grip, but in the end, he fell the 15 feet to the courtyard, landing with a bone-crunching thud.
All their foes vanquished, the group gathered in the shadow of the keep. They'd battled through two lines of defense and so far, only Ledare had been injured.
"This seems too easy," Finian muttered.
"The gods smile on our actions," Ruze offered and the Archer shrugged.
"So what do we do now?" Draelond asked.
"Well, there's that hidden doorway over there," Kirnoth suggested, pointing to a disguised door with some easily-moved bits of rubble blocking it.
The door opened onto a wide set of uneven stairs that coiled away into icy darkness. The stairs themselves were made of black basalt worn smooth by the tread of untold feet. There seemed to be no light below although empty iron torch holders were set into the walls at regular intervals.
"Behold, the power of Shaharizod," the Battleguard bellowed as he raised the scimitar in his right hand and leveled it at the half-orc. "Behold, as I smite thee."
A blackish-green smile split the Plaguebringer's face as Ruze approached. And it was only then that Ruze heard the half-orc muttering a prayer under his breath. Enraged, Ruze lashed out using one of the forms he'd been taught in the temple: Wind Over Mountain. His scimitars flickered in the moonlight opening bloody gashes in the half-orc's pox-marked flesh. The Plaguebringer cried out in pain and with a gasp his prayer went unfinished and unanswered. "As my heart is pure with her love so is my aim!" Ruze grinned as the cleric took a retaliatory swing at him. It missed by a wide margin.
Ledare reached the melee a few paces ahead of Draelond and stabbed her sword at Ursh, aiming for the hideous symbol of the goddess of pestilence that hung loosely about his neck. She was taken momentarily aback by the superior martial display that Ruze was exhibiting with his twin crescents. She missed completely.
"Kitten, assure you stand outside the range of the twin moon blades lest I cut your silky skin," Ruze quipped jauntily. "Draelond, I suggest you do the same although your appearance alas would be improved with a few more scars. Ha!"
Draelond grinned at the cleric's comment as he stepped up to the half-orc's flank and raised Ravager. "I'll follow you to battle anywhere, Ruze," Draelond yelled, preparing to chop handily through the malformed Plaguebringer. He found himself unable to swing the blade as much as he wished it. The bastard sword trembled above his head and he grew red-faced with effort, but he was forced, at last, to stagger away from the melee.
Kirnoth approached and called out, "I can't attack him either."
As Draelond turned to address the elf, another crossbow bolt was deflected by the big man's chainmail. "There are other foes!" Draelond observed. "We'd all be served to keep half-an-eye on that shooter in the crow's nest up above!!"
"I've been trying," Kirnoth admitted, "It's coming from the ruins of the upper floor, but I can't see exactly where."
Draelond angled his head toward the base of the keep and started in that direction. "We'll have some cover if we're closer to the wall," he told Kirnoth. "Keep your eyes open for any sign of the shooter."
The elf hesitated. "What about Ruze and Ledare?" he asked, reluctant to leave them on their own.
"We're no good to them in battle with a foe we can't attack," the warrior asserted and Kirnoth had no choice but to agree.
As it turned out, Kirnoth's fears about leaving Ledare and Ruze alone with the half-orc were unfounded. Ursh did his best to concentrate on the miracle he was attempting at the same time as he avoided the harrying blades of his two adversaries. His best fell far short of what was necessary... on both accounts. His spell fizzled with a pop and a momentary whiff of brimstone and Ruze's twin scimitars cut him to ribbons in the very next instant.
The Battleguard paused long enough to spit on the stinking corpse before he and Ledare went to follow on Draelond and Kirnoth's heels.
The stairs leading up to the nearly non-existent second floor were strewn with debris. Fallen timbers and crumbling blocks of stone competed with drifts of powdered mortar and piles of broken shingles. Draelond nearly fell as he tried to step over a precariously balanced beam. It was a little cluttered to swing a sword as big as Ravager and certainly no place for Kirnoth to use his long bow.
The elf propped his bow against the wall and switched to his longsword as he and Draelond moved out amidst the debris from the fallen roof. They moved side-by-side, each looking and listening for some sign of the shooter, but the clattering of Ruze's scale and Ledare's plate armor climbing ungainly up the steps made hearing anything almost impossible.
Kirnoth turned to hush his two companions when the hidden figure struck, leaping from behind a partially-collapsed wall and stabbing at Kirnoth with a shortsword. Miraculously, the elf's leather armor managed to turn away the point of the blade, sparing Kirnoth a pierced kidney.
The elf whirled and thrust outward with his longsword and felt the blade strike true. Staggered, the shadowy assailant was in a poor position to avoid Draelond's attack. The bastard sword, too found its target, but Draelond could see little in the darkness and the blow was only a slight one.
The figure darted back behind the cover provided by the outcropping of wall and vanished again from sight.
In the courtyard below, only Finian saw the shadowy figure creeping along the outer wall of the keep's second story, silently maneuvering into a position behind Draelond and Kirnoth. He trotted into point blank range, drew back an arrow and fired. He became visible an instant before his missile struck the shadowy figure in the center of the back.
For a moment, the man clawed and clutched at the wall, trying to maintain his grip, but in the end, he fell the 15 feet to the courtyard, landing with a bone-crunching thud.
All their foes vanquished, the group gathered in the shadow of the keep. They'd battled through two lines of defense and so far, only Ledare had been injured.
"This seems too easy," Finian muttered.
"The gods smile on our actions," Ruze offered and the Archer shrugged.
"So what do we do now?" Draelond asked.
"Well, there's that hidden doorway over there," Kirnoth suggested, pointing to a disguised door with some easily-moved bits of rubble blocking it.
The door opened onto a wide set of uneven stairs that coiled away into icy darkness. The stairs themselves were made of black basalt worn smooth by the tread of untold feet. There seemed to be no light below although empty iron torch holders were set into the walls at regular intervals.
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Jon Potter
First Post
[Realms #194] Trapped Between a Door and a Cold Place
"The hidden doorway seems the most appropriate path for us to follow," Ledare told the others. "Are we in agreement?"
"I wonder if it would be worth while to sneak down invisibly and scout things out?" Finian hypothesized, unconsciously spinning the Ring of Invisibility around and around on his finger.
Kirnoth peered down into the darkness below and shrugged. "It's pretty dark down there," he said, turning back to the Archer. "You'll need a light source. And with a light source, being invisible's not much help."
"And you'll need to be wary of any more silly traps that would alert others to our presence," Ledare reminded and Ruze chuckled.
"Wouldn't want you running off again like a little girl," he smirked and the Janissary glowered at him.
"You rallied your courage and helped us in the end," Ledare said to Finian before turning her eyes back to the Battleguard and allowing a disapproving tone to creep into her voice. "Think no more of it."
"I appreciate your tolerance," Finian said, a trifle shame-faced.
"As long as you are well, it doesn't matter," she consoled him. "I have not forgotten my own loss of control when we confronted the ghost at The Five Elements Inn. It can happen to anyone. If Ruze had been there with us, he might have known that."
The Battleguard looked a little uncomfortable and he squirmed a bit under Ledare's scrutiny. "Sorry," he muttered. "Just trying to lighten the mood a bit, kitten. I didn't mean anything by it."
"Let us press onward," Draelond suggested. "The longer we delay the longer our enemies have to prepare."
"He's right," Finian admitted and drew the longsword that had been given him by the king. It flooded the area at once with pale, blue-white radiance. "I would not be surprised if more booby traps are set either, but this should provide sufficient light to search by." He marched over to the doorway and held the sword out into the stairwell. The blade filled the claustrophobic passage with light as far ahead as the bend where the stairs coiled out of sight 25 feet down. "I'll go ahead, checking for traps as I go," Finian told the group. "You all stay behind until I reach the bend then come that far and I'll continue on. We'll go like that until we reach the bottom or a door or something."
"Sounds good," Ledare nodded.
"Let us remain on our guard and assume those within know we're coming," Kirnoth told the others.
"Keep that poem in your mind, Kirnoth, and be on the watch for anything it might reference," Ledare added. "We should all do the same, but you seem to have it committed to memory the best."
"Don't worry, Ledare," the mage explained with a serious nod of his head. "I will be on the lookout for anything magical, hidden or that looks like a piece of the poem."
"Wish me luck," Finian said and started his examination of the stairwell by the light of his enchanted blade.
He'd almost made it to the bend - about 20 feet down - when he suddenly stopped.
The stair that he had just begun to put his weight on wasn't a stair at all. It was a trigger for some kind of trap and it gave just enough when he started to step down that he was able to detect it before he set it off. He eased his foot off and began to examine the surrounding area for some indication of what the trap did. In the ceiling above he saw a narrow slit, and a blade glittered eagerly in the dark fissure. It was clearly some sort of scything blade trap.
Finian licked his lips nervously before turning to the others clustered at the top of the stairs and gesturing for them to wait. Then he pulled out the thieves tool kit that Abernathy had located for him and went to work disarming the trap. After what seemed like an hour - but was actually less than a minute - he heard a satisfying click from inside the triggering mechanism. He leaned back and let out a sigh of relief before slipping the tools back into their kit and the kit back into his belt pouch. He gestured then for the others to join him, pointed out the false stair and whispered, "I think I've disarmed it, but you should probably avoid stepping on it anyway."
"Better safe than sorry," Draelond whispered back and the Archer nodded.
"You all wait here and I'll move on," he told them and he did.
After another 20 feet, he encountered another trap. This one gave no warning, except for an ever-so-faint hissing sound and instant before a five-foot area on either side of Archer was flooded with magical cold. Luckily, Finian's reflexes - which had improved somewhat since the damage that the viperwolf venom had done to them - saved him. As soon as he heard the hiss, he lept forward, landing six steps down and well outside of the icy blue curtain of elemental cold.
He stared up at his Companions through the scintillating blast and then glanced down. About 20 feet below, he could see a small landing with a set of double doors at the bottom of the staircase. A sickly green light could be seen pulsing through the thin gaps between and under the two doors.
The narrow staircase was growing cold and Finian could see his breath in the air. A thin layer of ice had begun to form on the stairs and wall and the Archer had begun to wonder how he would get back to his Companions when the curtain of cold dropped.
"It's a magical trap," Finian hissed up at them. "I don't know if I can disable it."
"Can you do anything, Kirnoth?" Ledare asked and the mage shrugged.
"Maybe," he said and began casting Detect Magic. As he completed the spell, the others saw his eyes take on the opalescent silver quality that they always did when the mage was looking for magical dweomers. Kirnoth saw his companions glowing dimly, the stair halfway between them and Finian glimmered in the dark and something dimly radiating from below and behind the Archer. As Kirnoth concentrated, the auras became clearer: Finian's sword and the Ring of Invisibility glowed so brightly that he had to blink. He concentrated on the stair that radiated both Divination and Evocation magic and after a few more moments of concentrated effort, he determined that there was a small magical rune or glyph inscribed on the stair. "But there's no way for you to get to it without triggering the trap," Kirnoth told Finian. "And even then, I'm not sure what you could do to it; it's carved into the stone."
"Can we not just avoid that stair, like we did above?" Draelond asked and the elf shook his head.
"The magical cold is keyed to some sort of Divination magic," the elf explained. "I don't think that touching the stair triggers it so much as passing within its radius does. Even if my magic were at full strength, it is beyond my ability to dispel."
"Mine too," Ruze said before everyone even had a chance to look at him.
"So either I deliberately trigger it by trying to disable it, get caught by the spell, and *maybe* succeed in disabling it," Finian summed up. "Or you each try jumping through and *maybe* avoid it like I did."
"Oh, and I should mention that there's something else down below you that's radiating magic as well," Kirnoth added. "It's out of my line of sight, so I can't tell anything more about it. But it's definitely there."
Finian glanced back down at the double doors. "Yeah," he muttered. "I think I see it too."
"The hidden doorway seems the most appropriate path for us to follow," Ledare told the others. "Are we in agreement?"
"I wonder if it would be worth while to sneak down invisibly and scout things out?" Finian hypothesized, unconsciously spinning the Ring of Invisibility around and around on his finger.
Kirnoth peered down into the darkness below and shrugged. "It's pretty dark down there," he said, turning back to the Archer. "You'll need a light source. And with a light source, being invisible's not much help."
"And you'll need to be wary of any more silly traps that would alert others to our presence," Ledare reminded and Ruze chuckled.
"Wouldn't want you running off again like a little girl," he smirked and the Janissary glowered at him.
"You rallied your courage and helped us in the end," Ledare said to Finian before turning her eyes back to the Battleguard and allowing a disapproving tone to creep into her voice. "Think no more of it."
"I appreciate your tolerance," Finian said, a trifle shame-faced.
"As long as you are well, it doesn't matter," she consoled him. "I have not forgotten my own loss of control when we confronted the ghost at The Five Elements Inn. It can happen to anyone. If Ruze had been there with us, he might have known that."
The Battleguard looked a little uncomfortable and he squirmed a bit under Ledare's scrutiny. "Sorry," he muttered. "Just trying to lighten the mood a bit, kitten. I didn't mean anything by it."
"Let us press onward," Draelond suggested. "The longer we delay the longer our enemies have to prepare."
"He's right," Finian admitted and drew the longsword that had been given him by the king. It flooded the area at once with pale, blue-white radiance. "I would not be surprised if more booby traps are set either, but this should provide sufficient light to search by." He marched over to the doorway and held the sword out into the stairwell. The blade filled the claustrophobic passage with light as far ahead as the bend where the stairs coiled out of sight 25 feet down. "I'll go ahead, checking for traps as I go," Finian told the group. "You all stay behind until I reach the bend then come that far and I'll continue on. We'll go like that until we reach the bottom or a door or something."
"Sounds good," Ledare nodded.
"Let us remain on our guard and assume those within know we're coming," Kirnoth told the others.
"Keep that poem in your mind, Kirnoth, and be on the watch for anything it might reference," Ledare added. "We should all do the same, but you seem to have it committed to memory the best."
"Don't worry, Ledare," the mage explained with a serious nod of his head. "I will be on the lookout for anything magical, hidden or that looks like a piece of the poem."
"Wish me luck," Finian said and started his examination of the stairwell by the light of his enchanted blade.
He'd almost made it to the bend - about 20 feet down - when he suddenly stopped.
The stair that he had just begun to put his weight on wasn't a stair at all. It was a trigger for some kind of trap and it gave just enough when he started to step down that he was able to detect it before he set it off. He eased his foot off and began to examine the surrounding area for some indication of what the trap did. In the ceiling above he saw a narrow slit, and a blade glittered eagerly in the dark fissure. It was clearly some sort of scything blade trap.
Finian licked his lips nervously before turning to the others clustered at the top of the stairs and gesturing for them to wait. Then he pulled out the thieves tool kit that Abernathy had located for him and went to work disarming the trap. After what seemed like an hour - but was actually less than a minute - he heard a satisfying click from inside the triggering mechanism. He leaned back and let out a sigh of relief before slipping the tools back into their kit and the kit back into his belt pouch. He gestured then for the others to join him, pointed out the false stair and whispered, "I think I've disarmed it, but you should probably avoid stepping on it anyway."
"Better safe than sorry," Draelond whispered back and the Archer nodded.
"You all wait here and I'll move on," he told them and he did.
After another 20 feet, he encountered another trap. This one gave no warning, except for an ever-so-faint hissing sound and instant before a five-foot area on either side of Archer was flooded with magical cold. Luckily, Finian's reflexes - which had improved somewhat since the damage that the viperwolf venom had done to them - saved him. As soon as he heard the hiss, he lept forward, landing six steps down and well outside of the icy blue curtain of elemental cold.
He stared up at his Companions through the scintillating blast and then glanced down. About 20 feet below, he could see a small landing with a set of double doors at the bottom of the staircase. A sickly green light could be seen pulsing through the thin gaps between and under the two doors.
The narrow staircase was growing cold and Finian could see his breath in the air. A thin layer of ice had begun to form on the stairs and wall and the Archer had begun to wonder how he would get back to his Companions when the curtain of cold dropped.
"It's a magical trap," Finian hissed up at them. "I don't know if I can disable it."
"Can you do anything, Kirnoth?" Ledare asked and the mage shrugged.
"Maybe," he said and began casting Detect Magic. As he completed the spell, the others saw his eyes take on the opalescent silver quality that they always did when the mage was looking for magical dweomers. Kirnoth saw his companions glowing dimly, the stair halfway between them and Finian glimmered in the dark and something dimly radiating from below and behind the Archer. As Kirnoth concentrated, the auras became clearer: Finian's sword and the Ring of Invisibility glowed so brightly that he had to blink. He concentrated on the stair that radiated both Divination and Evocation magic and after a few more moments of concentrated effort, he determined that there was a small magical rune or glyph inscribed on the stair. "But there's no way for you to get to it without triggering the trap," Kirnoth told Finian. "And even then, I'm not sure what you could do to it; it's carved into the stone."
"Can we not just avoid that stair, like we did above?" Draelond asked and the elf shook his head.
"The magical cold is keyed to some sort of Divination magic," the elf explained. "I don't think that touching the stair triggers it so much as passing within its radius does. Even if my magic were at full strength, it is beyond my ability to dispel."
"Mine too," Ruze said before everyone even had a chance to look at him.
"So either I deliberately trigger it by trying to disable it, get caught by the spell, and *maybe* succeed in disabling it," Finian summed up. "Or you each try jumping through and *maybe* avoid it like I did."
"Oh, and I should mention that there's something else down below you that's radiating magic as well," Kirnoth added. "It's out of my line of sight, so I can't tell anything more about it. But it's definitely there."
Finian glanced back down at the double doors. "Yeah," he muttered. "I think I see it too."
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Jon Potter
First Post
[Realms #195] Beyond Disease's Door
Draelond considered Finian's statement for a moment, pondering the alternatives - if in fact, there were any. "You forget, my half-elvish friend, about the rule of somewhat large, marginally-dexterous men in bulky armor, working in tight spaces, getting a little skittish about performing feats with *maybes* attached to them," he said with a smirk. "But it DOES seem like the best approach."
"What else can we do at this point?" Kirnoth added. He looked across the trap at Finian and then onward down the stairs behind him. "I think we have to plow ahead."
Ruze shook his head with a frown. "I really do not think we should just jump through that thing unless as a last resort," he said, eying the area with the triggering rune that Kirnoth had pointed out.
Draelond paused and pondered the Battleguard's cautioning words before adding,"But it seems that the need to press forward eliminates a long list of other options."
"Could you walk on the walls with the slippers?" Finian suggested, pointing to his purple and crimson silk footwear. "Perhaps I could toss the slippers back to each of you and then you can get over the rune."
"We don't know the trap's detection radius," Ruze pointed out. "Or even what triggers it. Mayhaps, lets try to pass a torch over the glyph and see it that sets it off."
"And get caught in blast when it goes off?" Finian grimaced. "I don't think so."
"Good point, Finian," Kirnoth said with a nod.
"Hmm... Kirnoth, me thinks I may be able to nullify this elemental if it originates from Evil," Ruze said, rubbing his goateed chin. "What do you think?"
The elf shrugged. "I must admit that I know little of divine magicks, my friend," the mage admitted. "I'll defer to your knowledge of such things."
Ruze looked as though he were hoping for more endorsement of his idea. He sighed and stepped into the front rank. He reverently clutched his silver holy symbol. "Well, it's at least worth a try," he said and closed his eyes in prayer. "Shaharizod, my Queen, bless me with thy virtue to erase this glyph of evil that blocks thy servants to thy task at hand.'
He felt the warm tingle of holy energy fill the core of his being and he gestured outward with a forceful sweep of his arm, directing the power into the trapped stair. For a moment the air in the stairwell seemed charged with the divine and then it gradually dwindled away.
"Did it work?" Ledare asked.
"Well, Kitten, there really is no way to know until we jump," the cleric told her. "Hold for a moment whilst I grant some additional protection." The Battleguard bowed his head again and touched Ledare's shoulder. "My Queen," he intoned, "grant Ledare thy protection."
He then looked to the big fighter. "Draelond you are next," he said, holding his open palm outward in a gesture of benediction."Grant this lumbering oaf some protection, my Queen, for he needs it." He winked at Draelond and the warrior grinned back before turning to face the trapped section of stair.
"I'll go first. If I make it..." Draelond stopped and cleared his throat." ...WHEN I make it, then it then should be a breeze for the rest of you."
"No," Ruze told him. "Let me go first. If there's some sort of mishap, you'll need my healing powers on the other side."
He looked around at the others and nobody argued.
"Kirnoth I fear you and I go on Faith alone so that I have some curative abilities to give if they become necessary." Ruze and the elf nodded at each other and the Battleguard took a deep breath. "Well, no time like the present." He crouched, brought his arms back and muttered a little prayer that would have made the temple clerics cringe with horror, "My heart is pure, my feet are light, please don't freeze me tonight!"
And then he jumped.
At mid-leap, the trap was triggered, filling the stairwell to either side of the trigger step with frozen death. Fortunately, the Battleguard was lighter on his feet than his portly physique would have suggested and he was able to twist his body around to avoid the brunt of the magical onslaught. He landed with precision on the step beside Finian with his entire right leg coated in ice.
"Not good," he grunted, teeth clenched against the pain. Immediately he and the Archer began breaking away the ice and tending the wound as best they could. When that was done, the trap had reset itself, and Ruze beckoned to Draelond. "You're next," he said and the big man flexed and jumped.
Like Ruze, he triggered the trap and managed to avoid most of the damaging hail of ice. However, he landed poorly, twisting his ankle and tumbling face-first down the stairs. Finian lept aside with near balletic grace; Ruze was directly in the falling warrior's path and both men fell downward, clanking and grunting with each impact. Draelond managed to extricate himself from the tangle about ten feet down, but Ruze fell all the way to the bottom where he lay panting in the chill foyer before a pair of closed iron doors.
The Battleguard gasped.
The doors were covered with ornate sculptural reliefs of tormented faces in various stages of disease and decay. They seemed to rise up out of the black iron surface of the door their eyes pleading with Ruze to end their suffering. As he stared at them he saw strange black symbols were appearing and disappearing on each of the faces' foreheads, flickering in and out too quickly for his eyes to discern them. Noxious green light was spilling out from beneath and between the two doors. The place stank of evil.
"Are you alright?" Draelond called down the stairs and Ruze got awkwardly to his feet.
"I don't think I'll be dancing any time soon, but I'll live," the Battleguard grunted.
Kirnoth jumped next, avoiding the blast entirely as he went. He landed gracefully and turned to look up at the Janissary. "Come on, Ledare," he assured her. "There's nothing to it."
"Easy for you to say, Kirnoth," she grumbled. "Finian, toss me those slippers."
They didn't do her any good, unfortunately. She jumped through, triggered the spell and, like both Draelond and Ruze managed to avoid the worst of the damaging ice. And like Draelond she landed poorly and went careening down the stairs. Again, Finian dodged, and this time, he was able to shove Kirnoth out of the way as Ledare went sliding passed him on her armor-plated back. She managed to grab Draelond's hand and so avoided the ride all the way to the bottom.
"No traps," Finian announced after he'd finished examining the doors. "But these doors certainly look familiar."
"They do?" Draelond muttered.
"We saw a similar door in the tomb of an ancient Aphyx priestess," Kirnoth explained. "That's where the Scrolls of Vector were hidden away."
"And it's the same as the door to the main temple in the catacombs beneath Barnacus," Ruze reminded.
"Can anyone make out those symbols that keep fading in and out on their foreheads?" Ledare asked. The others shook their heads.
"It's too fast," Ruze said.
"Ready to proceed?" Finian asked and they brandished weapons, nodded, and threw open the doors.
The iron valves opened onto a hexagonal chamber with 10-foot-high walls that arched to 15 feet in the center of the room. The chamber was illuminated by a to-foot-high, 10-foot wide archway that glowed with a swirling green mist. Six black stone statues stood in the corners of the chamber, their heads nearly scraping the ceiling, their feet treading upon a field of broken skulls.
Finian, Kirnoth and Ledare recognized the hulking orc-like carvings for what they were. They'd seen them in the frescoes of Mogrelden's tomb and the Plaguebringer, Heurist, had even named them for Finian - Mendicants.
Draelond considered Finian's statement for a moment, pondering the alternatives - if in fact, there were any. "You forget, my half-elvish friend, about the rule of somewhat large, marginally-dexterous men in bulky armor, working in tight spaces, getting a little skittish about performing feats with *maybes* attached to them," he said with a smirk. "But it DOES seem like the best approach."
"What else can we do at this point?" Kirnoth added. He looked across the trap at Finian and then onward down the stairs behind him. "I think we have to plow ahead."
Ruze shook his head with a frown. "I really do not think we should just jump through that thing unless as a last resort," he said, eying the area with the triggering rune that Kirnoth had pointed out.
Draelond paused and pondered the Battleguard's cautioning words before adding,"But it seems that the need to press forward eliminates a long list of other options."
"Could you walk on the walls with the slippers?" Finian suggested, pointing to his purple and crimson silk footwear. "Perhaps I could toss the slippers back to each of you and then you can get over the rune."
"We don't know the trap's detection radius," Ruze pointed out. "Or even what triggers it. Mayhaps, lets try to pass a torch over the glyph and see it that sets it off."
"And get caught in blast when it goes off?" Finian grimaced. "I don't think so."
"Good point, Finian," Kirnoth said with a nod.
"Hmm... Kirnoth, me thinks I may be able to nullify this elemental if it originates from Evil," Ruze said, rubbing his goateed chin. "What do you think?"
The elf shrugged. "I must admit that I know little of divine magicks, my friend," the mage admitted. "I'll defer to your knowledge of such things."
Ruze looked as though he were hoping for more endorsement of his idea. He sighed and stepped into the front rank. He reverently clutched his silver holy symbol. "Well, it's at least worth a try," he said and closed his eyes in prayer. "Shaharizod, my Queen, bless me with thy virtue to erase this glyph of evil that blocks thy servants to thy task at hand.'
He felt the warm tingle of holy energy fill the core of his being and he gestured outward with a forceful sweep of his arm, directing the power into the trapped stair. For a moment the air in the stairwell seemed charged with the divine and then it gradually dwindled away.
"Did it work?" Ledare asked.
"Well, Kitten, there really is no way to know until we jump," the cleric told her. "Hold for a moment whilst I grant some additional protection." The Battleguard bowed his head again and touched Ledare's shoulder. "My Queen," he intoned, "grant Ledare thy protection."
He then looked to the big fighter. "Draelond you are next," he said, holding his open palm outward in a gesture of benediction."Grant this lumbering oaf some protection, my Queen, for he needs it." He winked at Draelond and the warrior grinned back before turning to face the trapped section of stair.
"I'll go first. If I make it..." Draelond stopped and cleared his throat." ...WHEN I make it, then it then should be a breeze for the rest of you."
"No," Ruze told him. "Let me go first. If there's some sort of mishap, you'll need my healing powers on the other side."
He looked around at the others and nobody argued.
"Kirnoth I fear you and I go on Faith alone so that I have some curative abilities to give if they become necessary." Ruze and the elf nodded at each other and the Battleguard took a deep breath. "Well, no time like the present." He crouched, brought his arms back and muttered a little prayer that would have made the temple clerics cringe with horror, "My heart is pure, my feet are light, please don't freeze me tonight!"
And then he jumped.
At mid-leap, the trap was triggered, filling the stairwell to either side of the trigger step with frozen death. Fortunately, the Battleguard was lighter on his feet than his portly physique would have suggested and he was able to twist his body around to avoid the brunt of the magical onslaught. He landed with precision on the step beside Finian with his entire right leg coated in ice.
"Not good," he grunted, teeth clenched against the pain. Immediately he and the Archer began breaking away the ice and tending the wound as best they could. When that was done, the trap had reset itself, and Ruze beckoned to Draelond. "You're next," he said and the big man flexed and jumped.
Like Ruze, he triggered the trap and managed to avoid most of the damaging hail of ice. However, he landed poorly, twisting his ankle and tumbling face-first down the stairs. Finian lept aside with near balletic grace; Ruze was directly in the falling warrior's path and both men fell downward, clanking and grunting with each impact. Draelond managed to extricate himself from the tangle about ten feet down, but Ruze fell all the way to the bottom where he lay panting in the chill foyer before a pair of closed iron doors.
The Battleguard gasped.
The doors were covered with ornate sculptural reliefs of tormented faces in various stages of disease and decay. They seemed to rise up out of the black iron surface of the door their eyes pleading with Ruze to end their suffering. As he stared at them he saw strange black symbols were appearing and disappearing on each of the faces' foreheads, flickering in and out too quickly for his eyes to discern them. Noxious green light was spilling out from beneath and between the two doors. The place stank of evil.
"Are you alright?" Draelond called down the stairs and Ruze got awkwardly to his feet.
"I don't think I'll be dancing any time soon, but I'll live," the Battleguard grunted.
Kirnoth jumped next, avoiding the blast entirely as he went. He landed gracefully and turned to look up at the Janissary. "Come on, Ledare," he assured her. "There's nothing to it."
"Easy for you to say, Kirnoth," she grumbled. "Finian, toss me those slippers."
They didn't do her any good, unfortunately. She jumped through, triggered the spell and, like both Draelond and Ruze managed to avoid the worst of the damaging ice. And like Draelond she landed poorly and went careening down the stairs. Again, Finian dodged, and this time, he was able to shove Kirnoth out of the way as Ledare went sliding passed him on her armor-plated back. She managed to grab Draelond's hand and so avoided the ride all the way to the bottom.
"No traps," Finian announced after he'd finished examining the doors. "But these doors certainly look familiar."
"They do?" Draelond muttered.
"We saw a similar door in the tomb of an ancient Aphyx priestess," Kirnoth explained. "That's where the Scrolls of Vector were hidden away."
"And it's the same as the door to the main temple in the catacombs beneath Barnacus," Ruze reminded.
"Can anyone make out those symbols that keep fading in and out on their foreheads?" Ledare asked. The others shook their heads.
"It's too fast," Ruze said.
"Ready to proceed?" Finian asked and they brandished weapons, nodded, and threw open the doors.
The iron valves opened onto a hexagonal chamber with 10-foot-high walls that arched to 15 feet in the center of the room. The chamber was illuminated by a to-foot-high, 10-foot wide archway that glowed with a swirling green mist. Six black stone statues stood in the corners of the chamber, their heads nearly scraping the ceiling, their feet treading upon a field of broken skulls.
Finian, Kirnoth and Ledare recognized the hulking orc-like carvings for what they were. They'd seen them in the frescoes of Mogrelden's tomb and the Plaguebringer, Heurist, had even named them for Finian - Mendicants.
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