DM-Rocco
Explorer
Session 28 Module the Tomb of Horrors
Shump tightly clenched the Dagger of Dulum in her mighty hand. A dagger was a small cutting weapon used mainly by thieves and assassins in the dead of the night for a good close quarter mugging or a slight throat. A dagger was not a mighty weapon that one would take into the thick of battle. One would normally prefer the long length of a bastard sword or the awesome cutting power of a double bladed axe, the bone crunching strength of a massive war hammer or the reach of a long spear, but not the lithe fragile blade of a dagger.
In spite of its small size, Shump had decided to use this simple blade instead of the Claymore that she had taken from the fallen Maralith. It was small in her massive hand but she knew the power behind the blade. Some blades where endowed with magic to make one easier to hit and some made deeper wounds while others could summon the elements to do different types of damage, but not this blade. The Dagger of Dulum was not one of those. It had power, but not like that. It wasn’t able to hit things easier or bit deeper or slay being on touch, but it did have power. It had been kissed by the Gods of old to be able to penetrate any substance.
Shump used the blade to bite deep into the base of the old statue of the warrior grim and hacked and sliced effortlessly like a hot blade through butter. Soon enough metal was removed that the remains of the statue fell from the base. The remains were mere child’s play for one of her strength to discard.
The Efreet’s smoky body slid down the tunnel underneath and stopped at the next intersection until the others caught up to him. The Efreet just pointed to a small opening that was metal lined - obviously a keyhole. Shump thought for a moment to just cut through the metal with the Dagger of Dulum. She then thought better of it. In such a dungeon as this, where clues were everywhere, it was a bad idea to just bypass things that were meant to be opened in a certain way. Doing so often meant disastrous consequences for those involved, in spite of the good intentions of those seeking an easier way.
Shump instead reached for the Golden key and inserted it into the hole and turned the key. A stone slab of tremendous thickness, sheathed in adamantine, sunk to the floor. A smallish ten-foot by twenty foot burial vault with a arched vaulted ceiling that rose to a twenty five foot peak was the room that was revealed. To the parties disappointment there was nothing in this smallish room.
Of course the party was used to such things at this point and immediately inspected the room. A small depression found, a few inches deep and about two inches square in the center of the floor was found. It took but a moment to find the other keyhole. Shump inserted the second key they had found and turned it counter clock wise until she felt the room start to quake. Immediately the floor began to rise and peak into sections as the whole of the floor began to rise into the air. Shump and the others rushed back the way they came just as the floor crashed into the ceiling.
Shump was tired of this tomb, they all were.
Shump flew into a rage, an unbridled rage of such fury that she surprised herself when she could barely recognize friend from foe. She jumped to her feet in one swift motion and raced for the mithril vault that was now exposed under where the floor had just been raised. She grasped the massive mithril pull ring and ripped the door from its hinges. A loud crash came when the southern room was exposed as the door thudded to the stone floor.
The room beyond contained an enormous amount of gold and gems and items of all kinds from the many victims of Acererak over the long eons of the Tombs wicked existence. Potions of magic and old weathered scrolls littered the floor as did magic rings and rods and staves and swords. Items from mighty magical relics of old to the groups items lost during teleportation were strewn about the place, but these mattered not to Shump. She had a murderous need revealed in the glint of her eye. A quick scan of the room revealed a small skull encrusted with gems on the far side of the room. She raced past the others and charged the remains on the alter on the far side of the room.
As she did so a misty form rose into the air, a ghostly form of an ancient wizard. She could hear the call of the dwarf, hear the call of his friend, the Foe Hammer, he heard the shout of “law bringer.” Shump, tired of tricks and relying on a gut feeling, rushed straight through the form of the ghostly wizard and lunged for the gem-encrusted skull. The skull was normal in most respects save two. Where the teeth had been now where replaced with teeth of giant green emeralds and where the eyes used to be two huge diamonds took their place. Shump, as she lunged through the air in a mighty leap, tried to aim for one of the diamonds in the skull with the Dagger of Dulum. As she flew through the air the ancient dusty remains of Acererak’s body swirled in a breeze and formed the body of yet another wizard and at the last second the skull rose into the air to top off the wizardly ghost. As the skull rose into the air, Shump missed her mark as the dagger of Dulum bite deep into the stone alter of Acererak’s final haunt.
From a distance a calming song filled her heart, but she fought through it. She bore down on her hatred and anger and raged into action. Shump regained her senses with lightning speed and was soon on her feet again, swinging with wild abandon at the skull. It proved to be ever elusive. She swung with her mighty fist in a thrusting motion and just missed the skull as it skillfully dodged out of the way. She then retreated her right hand and made another thrust but this two proved to be less than effective as the skull of Acererak narrowly missed being hit by the mighty blade.
Shump then noticed the skull hesitate for a moment and a flash of light blinded her for a split second, but not enough to disrupt her next attack. She flipped the dagger around so the hilt of the blade would reinforced her punches and if those missed, the protruding blade would most likely catch her prey since the blade was now facing away from her. The blade would slash her opponent now instead of pierce from a thrust. She made a motion to slash her opponent with the blade and again Acererak skillfully dodged the attack but then Shump quickly reversed the direction of the attack and back fisted the blade into the floating skull of Acererak. The Dagger of durum bite deep and true to its design sank deep into the skull. The blade slide half way down the length of the blade before it stopped, catching the skull at the base of the back of the head.
The skull of Acererak turned quickly towards Shump, so quickly that she lost control of the hilt and the blade stuck in Acererak’s skull. Two diamond eyes pierced into Shump’s soul and she felt a tug pulling her home. In an instant it was over, a slight light, a feeling of helplessness and then an unheard scream as her body slumped to the ground and turned into a pile of ash in mere seconds.
Her soul was now gone.
He touched the Ghost with Pelor’s blessing and he watched as the ghost turned from a misty outline to a solid form and then disperse again into a veiled mist and disintegrate before their eyes. The Holy Word of Pelor filled the room with the Deities blessing and the light of Pelor brought warmth to the dreariness of the Final Haunt. He watched as the skull on the far side of the room rose into the air and as the holy light of Pelor touched the skull, a split in the skull formed and cracked the skull down the middle.
The power of Pelor’s word was mighty.
He could swear that the vileness of Acererak’s wrath would be taken out on him. He had taken away his minion and wounded him in one fell swoop. He prepared himself for the onslaught of Acererak’s wrath, but he quickly found it was not directed at him. Instead the gem-encrusted skull rose into the air, ignoring the flurry of blade swings from Shump, and stared into the soul of the Efreet.
No words were spoken, but he was not sure if it was cause he couldn’t hear them or because the Efreet was gone before he had time to reply to his jailer. The one thing that was certain was that the Efreet’s soul was ripped from its body and its body turned into a pile of ash.
In such tightly packed quarters, it would be impossible for him to engage Acererak in close quarter combat and still allow the warriors a good chance of defeating him. He took a step backward and again called down the Holy Word of Pelor. He felt the mounting tide of evil being swept away by the power of Pelor’s good. He connected to Pelor in a way he had never done before, a connection that few clerics would ever share with their God.
It was a feeling that he had liked.
“I smell evil afoot,” screamed Lawbringer, “take me to the evil, I shall smite it down to the depths of Hell.” The blade hummed with life and excitement. Lawbringer was an intelligent blade without equal when it came to fighting evil. It could sense evil like a fly could sense sugar and it was always ready to fight, or rather, it was always ready to fight evil. Lawbringer was notorious for sleeping on the job as it were. When evil was not around, it often slept, not allowing its magic to part take of any combat in which it could not smite a great evil. Its ability to sleep through numerous combats was amazing. Once Stonecracker had been fighting demons in the Abyss and still the blade had slept. That was one of the times the Dwarf had come close to throwing the blade away forever.
However, one good battle against a powerful evil made up for ten battles where he slept for when he was awakened a wrath like none other was unleashed. A fury of divine might so powerful he could kill a maralith with one mighty swing of the blade, snuffing out the evil life force before they even had a chance to react.
So it was that Lawbringer, bound in a room it could not escape and deprived of his chance to slay evil for the whole of the Tomb, reacted with great anger and fury when Stonecracker Boulderwacker and Lawbringer were finally reunited. The Halberd immediately teleported to his hand and half dragged the feisty dwarf to the skull. Right as Shump’s body fell to dust and at the same moment that the Holy Word of Khael tore the skull a crack, the mighty fury of Lawbringer brought down its full wrath and slammed the skull of Acererak so hard the skull sank into the ground, stunned by the blow.
Positive energy filled the skull and a hissing crack widened from the infusion of energy. The power of his God too had been called to his aid and Helm had answered, for if ever he had a need, it was now.
Somehow she knew that the room before her was filled with all of their belonging. She knew everything she owned was there, including one thing that she had cherished most of all, the hammer her and her God had forged together.
Back when she was being tested for faith Pelor had shown her the errors of her way of thinking and for a reward for taking a step towards understanding the nature of the Gods, Pelor had granted her new servant a mighty boon. In the forges of some far off plane she and Pelor labored over the making of this weapon. It was given to her with a warning. Protect the weak, defend the faithless and hold the spirit of Pelor True and you shall know the power of this weapon. Lose faith in my teachings and it will fail you. It was this weapon that she now sought.
Amidst the treasure of others who have come before her, she tried to desperately find the hammer. She got down on hands and knees and riffled through everything in her way trying to find the one item she thought may turn the tide of battle.
She could not find it.
Then she closed her eyes and relied on faith. She stood, with eyes closed, and slowly walked towards the floating skull of Acererak. She could hear the sounds of battle, the distinctive sounds of the dwarf yelling for Lawbringer, the sweet sound of the Siren trying to calm the ancient evil that was Acererak and the grunts of Shump as she swung wildly at the skull. She didn’t know how, but she could tell where the skull was and where her teammates were. She could feel Shump lose her fight to retain her soul and the power of the Holy Words coming from Khael and the mighty blow from Stonecracker. She raised her empty hands into the air as if she had a weapon of a great weight and with all her strength she swung down in an arc. She moved in a circle at an angle that suggested that something was counterbalancing her movement so she would not fall over, but nothing was in her hands. Then, right after the Dwarf had knocked the skull to the ground, right as it rose into the air, she pulled her momentum into one solid blow. As she flew her body forward to strike, a massive hammer filled her empty hands and that smashed the front face of the skull, sending the skull flying into the wall behind it.
In that one moment when the Hammer made contact with the skull of Acererak, the hammer was completed of its forging process. In that strike it was given a purpose. In the blow it was given a need. It could feel the race of the creature it had hit. An ancient evil of a devilish kind with a hint if demon and a race of elves from long ago. In addition to this it knew this creature to be undead and forever more the hammer would find these beings easier to slay and in time it may even grow a personality to help slay such creatures, like Lawbringer.
Delvina opened her eyes, she could see perfectly, her faith had guided her home.
He felt the second key being inserted into the floor keyhole and he knew the battle was about to begin. He summoned forth a mighty ghost as he always did. It was meant to scare and surprise the victims into using their deadliest magic on it rather than him. Not that it mattered, for his dark experiments had made him immune to almost all but the most powerful magic.
He was not surprised to see the Efreet with them, but was a little put out that the Efreet had helped them. He had trapped the creature many eons ago and was very strict about how he should conduct himself in the Tomb; however, the Efreet had other plans after so many years of confinement. Once Shump rushed passed the ghost, Acererak knew that he had only a moment to react and react he did. He rose into the air a skillfully dodged the blade. As he did he stared into the soul of the Efreet and sucked it from its body and into a gem.
He had power over the souls of any before him and he could take them at his will. None had ever stood up to him and none ever would. He thought about what to do with the soul of the Efreet. He could just simply add him to the mixing of other souls he had accumulated, adding to his power, or he could drink his soul for pleasure or return it to its body at a later date to have him continue to serve to Demi-Lich, yet again. He was not yet sure what to do yet, so he waited a moment. In that moment a blinding pain flashed in his memory. It had been a long time since he felt pain. Since before he turned from the flesh and became a lich to be certain. This was no ordinary pain; it was a holy energy from what he had thought was a long forgotten religion. Acererak was the master of negative energy, the power of death some would say; others would say the power of nothing. Acererak was just hit with a jolt of positive energy, the power of life, the power of everything. The two energies reacted in such a way as to create a massive blast that collided, positive meeting negative. The two energies hardly ever met, usually the Prime Material World separated the two, creating a balance between the two, but in rare cases the polar opposites would meet and such an outcome was never pleasant.
In that moment that he was blinded with searing pain he had never felt before the was barely able to duck out of the way of the Dagger of Dulum. He scanned the room for the one responsible for positive energy and quickly found the cleric of Pelor preparing another prayer to his God. He would end this quickly, he would drink his soul and add it to power his dark needs. Then, in that instant he changed his mind as the Dagger of Dulum pierced the back of his skull. His life force was nearly lost with that blow and he knew that he could not let this hideous orc woman live. He rose from the ground and stared at the soul of Shump and she too fell to the ground in a pile of dust as her soul became trapped within Acererak’s diamond eye.
It was no cleric of Pelor, but the sweet taste of the soul would do nicely to power his needs. He scanned the room again and found the cleric of Pelor again and rose to drink his soul too when a thundering jolt shook him and knocked him down. He rose in an anger he had not felt in a great while only to find the heavy face of the hammer smashing down into his own face, sending his backwards. In that instant he knew pain like none before. The hammer was now attuned to him and him alone, and others like him in race and creed. However, he would evermore fear this weapon and regard it as a threat. He would kill whomever wielded this weapon, whomever touched it, whomever looked at it. He flew through the air and his skull hit the wall behind him, driving the Dagger if Dulum the remainder of the way into his skull, burring the blade to the hilt.
He was so close to power, so close to finishing, and now he was dead.
Shump tightly clenched the Dagger of Dulum in her mighty hand. A dagger was a small cutting weapon used mainly by thieves and assassins in the dead of the night for a good close quarter mugging or a slight throat. A dagger was not a mighty weapon that one would take into the thick of battle. One would normally prefer the long length of a bastard sword or the awesome cutting power of a double bladed axe, the bone crunching strength of a massive war hammer or the reach of a long spear, but not the lithe fragile blade of a dagger.
In spite of its small size, Shump had decided to use this simple blade instead of the Claymore that she had taken from the fallen Maralith. It was small in her massive hand but she knew the power behind the blade. Some blades where endowed with magic to make one easier to hit and some made deeper wounds while others could summon the elements to do different types of damage, but not this blade. The Dagger of Dulum was not one of those. It had power, but not like that. It wasn’t able to hit things easier or bit deeper or slay being on touch, but it did have power. It had been kissed by the Gods of old to be able to penetrate any substance.
Shump used the blade to bite deep into the base of the old statue of the warrior grim and hacked and sliced effortlessly like a hot blade through butter. Soon enough metal was removed that the remains of the statue fell from the base. The remains were mere child’s play for one of her strength to discard.
The Efreet’s smoky body slid down the tunnel underneath and stopped at the next intersection until the others caught up to him. The Efreet just pointed to a small opening that was metal lined - obviously a keyhole. Shump thought for a moment to just cut through the metal with the Dagger of Dulum. She then thought better of it. In such a dungeon as this, where clues were everywhere, it was a bad idea to just bypass things that were meant to be opened in a certain way. Doing so often meant disastrous consequences for those involved, in spite of the good intentions of those seeking an easier way.
Shump instead reached for the Golden key and inserted it into the hole and turned the key. A stone slab of tremendous thickness, sheathed in adamantine, sunk to the floor. A smallish ten-foot by twenty foot burial vault with a arched vaulted ceiling that rose to a twenty five foot peak was the room that was revealed. To the parties disappointment there was nothing in this smallish room.
Of course the party was used to such things at this point and immediately inspected the room. A small depression found, a few inches deep and about two inches square in the center of the floor was found. It took but a moment to find the other keyhole. Shump inserted the second key they had found and turned it counter clock wise until she felt the room start to quake. Immediately the floor began to rise and peak into sections as the whole of the floor began to rise into the air. Shump and the others rushed back the way they came just as the floor crashed into the ceiling.
Shump was tired of this tomb, they all were.
Shump flew into a rage, an unbridled rage of such fury that she surprised herself when she could barely recognize friend from foe. She jumped to her feet in one swift motion and raced for the mithril vault that was now exposed under where the floor had just been raised. She grasped the massive mithril pull ring and ripped the door from its hinges. A loud crash came when the southern room was exposed as the door thudded to the stone floor.
The room beyond contained an enormous amount of gold and gems and items of all kinds from the many victims of Acererak over the long eons of the Tombs wicked existence. Potions of magic and old weathered scrolls littered the floor as did magic rings and rods and staves and swords. Items from mighty magical relics of old to the groups items lost during teleportation were strewn about the place, but these mattered not to Shump. She had a murderous need revealed in the glint of her eye. A quick scan of the room revealed a small skull encrusted with gems on the far side of the room. She raced past the others and charged the remains on the alter on the far side of the room.
As she did so a misty form rose into the air, a ghostly form of an ancient wizard. She could hear the call of the dwarf, hear the call of his friend, the Foe Hammer, he heard the shout of “law bringer.” Shump, tired of tricks and relying on a gut feeling, rushed straight through the form of the ghostly wizard and lunged for the gem-encrusted skull. The skull was normal in most respects save two. Where the teeth had been now where replaced with teeth of giant green emeralds and where the eyes used to be two huge diamonds took their place. Shump, as she lunged through the air in a mighty leap, tried to aim for one of the diamonds in the skull with the Dagger of Dulum. As she flew through the air the ancient dusty remains of Acererak’s body swirled in a breeze and formed the body of yet another wizard and at the last second the skull rose into the air to top off the wizardly ghost. As the skull rose into the air, Shump missed her mark as the dagger of Dulum bite deep into the stone alter of Acererak’s final haunt.
From a distance a calming song filled her heart, but she fought through it. She bore down on her hatred and anger and raged into action. Shump regained her senses with lightning speed and was soon on her feet again, swinging with wild abandon at the skull. It proved to be ever elusive. She swung with her mighty fist in a thrusting motion and just missed the skull as it skillfully dodged out of the way. She then retreated her right hand and made another thrust but this two proved to be less than effective as the skull of Acererak narrowly missed being hit by the mighty blade.
Shump then noticed the skull hesitate for a moment and a flash of light blinded her for a split second, but not enough to disrupt her next attack. She flipped the dagger around so the hilt of the blade would reinforced her punches and if those missed, the protruding blade would most likely catch her prey since the blade was now facing away from her. The blade would slash her opponent now instead of pierce from a thrust. She made a motion to slash her opponent with the blade and again Acererak skillfully dodged the attack but then Shump quickly reversed the direction of the attack and back fisted the blade into the floating skull of Acererak. The Dagger of durum bite deep and true to its design sank deep into the skull. The blade slide half way down the length of the blade before it stopped, catching the skull at the base of the back of the head.
The skull of Acererak turned quickly towards Shump, so quickly that she lost control of the hilt and the blade stuck in Acererak’s skull. Two diamond eyes pierced into Shump’s soul and she felt a tug pulling her home. In an instant it was over, a slight light, a feeling of helplessness and then an unheard scream as her body slumped to the ground and turned into a pile of ash in mere seconds.
Her soul was now gone.
* * *
“By the Light Of Pelor,” shouted the enraged Khael, “I banish thee to your eternal rest!” Khael raised his holy sun symbol of Pelor high into the air and the ghostly figure of the wizard cringed before the might of Pelor and burned away from his holy light as the darkness to the dawn. Khael was a servant of Pelor, God of the Sun, deity of good. He was charged with keeping the wards of the lands, bringing peace to those who lack it and the word of Pelor to those who need it.
He touched the Ghost with Pelor’s blessing and he watched as the ghost turned from a misty outline to a solid form and then disperse again into a veiled mist and disintegrate before their eyes. The Holy Word of Pelor filled the room with the Deities blessing and the light of Pelor brought warmth to the dreariness of the Final Haunt. He watched as the skull on the far side of the room rose into the air and as the holy light of Pelor touched the skull, a split in the skull formed and cracked the skull down the middle.
The power of Pelor’s word was mighty.
He could swear that the vileness of Acererak’s wrath would be taken out on him. He had taken away his minion and wounded him in one fell swoop. He prepared himself for the onslaught of Acererak’s wrath, but he quickly found it was not directed at him. Instead the gem-encrusted skull rose into the air, ignoring the flurry of blade swings from Shump, and stared into the soul of the Efreet.
No words were spoken, but he was not sure if it was cause he couldn’t hear them or because the Efreet was gone before he had time to reply to his jailer. The one thing that was certain was that the Efreet’s soul was ripped from its body and its body turned into a pile of ash.
In such tightly packed quarters, it would be impossible for him to engage Acererak in close quarter combat and still allow the warriors a good chance of defeating him. He took a step backward and again called down the Holy Word of Pelor. He felt the mounting tide of evil being swept away by the power of Pelor’s good. He connected to Pelor in a way he had never done before, a connection that few clerics would ever share with their God.
It was a feeling that he had liked.
* * *
“Lawbringer,” screamed the battle cry of the dwarf and instantly the mighty halberd appeared in his hand. Instantly the weapon glowed in divine energy.
“I smell evil afoot,” screamed Lawbringer, “take me to the evil, I shall smite it down to the depths of Hell.” The blade hummed with life and excitement. Lawbringer was an intelligent blade without equal when it came to fighting evil. It could sense evil like a fly could sense sugar and it was always ready to fight, or rather, it was always ready to fight evil. Lawbringer was notorious for sleeping on the job as it were. When evil was not around, it often slept, not allowing its magic to part take of any combat in which it could not smite a great evil. Its ability to sleep through numerous combats was amazing. Once Stonecracker had been fighting demons in the Abyss and still the blade had slept. That was one of the times the Dwarf had come close to throwing the blade away forever.
However, one good battle against a powerful evil made up for ten battles where he slept for when he was awakened a wrath like none other was unleashed. A fury of divine might so powerful he could kill a maralith with one mighty swing of the blade, snuffing out the evil life force before they even had a chance to react.
So it was that Lawbringer, bound in a room it could not escape and deprived of his chance to slay evil for the whole of the Tomb, reacted with great anger and fury when Stonecracker Boulderwacker and Lawbringer were finally reunited. The Halberd immediately teleported to his hand and half dragged the feisty dwarf to the skull. Right as Shump’s body fell to dust and at the same moment that the Holy Word of Khael tore the skull a crack, the mighty fury of Lawbringer brought down its full wrath and slammed the skull of Acererak so hard the skull sank into the ground, stunned by the blow.
Positive energy filled the skull and a hissing crack widened from the infusion of energy. The power of his God too had been called to his aid and Helm had answered, for if ever he had a need, it was now.
* * *
Devlina watched as the floor rose to the ceiling, nearly crushing Shump as she turned the key. The small room before her came to her in near vision. Over the course of the adventures in the tomb she was starting to get her sight back. Things were still a bit groggy, but she could clearly see objects, just not fine details.
Somehow she knew that the room before her was filled with all of their belonging. She knew everything she owned was there, including one thing that she had cherished most of all, the hammer her and her God had forged together.
Back when she was being tested for faith Pelor had shown her the errors of her way of thinking and for a reward for taking a step towards understanding the nature of the Gods, Pelor had granted her new servant a mighty boon. In the forges of some far off plane she and Pelor labored over the making of this weapon. It was given to her with a warning. Protect the weak, defend the faithless and hold the spirit of Pelor True and you shall know the power of this weapon. Lose faith in my teachings and it will fail you. It was this weapon that she now sought.
Amidst the treasure of others who have come before her, she tried to desperately find the hammer. She got down on hands and knees and riffled through everything in her way trying to find the one item she thought may turn the tide of battle.
She could not find it.
Then she closed her eyes and relied on faith. She stood, with eyes closed, and slowly walked towards the floating skull of Acererak. She could hear the sounds of battle, the distinctive sounds of the dwarf yelling for Lawbringer, the sweet sound of the Siren trying to calm the ancient evil that was Acererak and the grunts of Shump as she swung wildly at the skull. She didn’t know how, but she could tell where the skull was and where her teammates were. She could feel Shump lose her fight to retain her soul and the power of the Holy Words coming from Khael and the mighty blow from Stonecracker. She raised her empty hands into the air as if she had a weapon of a great weight and with all her strength she swung down in an arc. She moved in a circle at an angle that suggested that something was counterbalancing her movement so she would not fall over, but nothing was in her hands. Then, right after the Dwarf had knocked the skull to the ground, right as it rose into the air, she pulled her momentum into one solid blow. As she flew her body forward to strike, a massive hammer filled her empty hands and that smashed the front face of the skull, sending the skull flying into the wall behind it.
In that one moment when the Hammer made contact with the skull of Acererak, the hammer was completed of its forging process. In that strike it was given a purpose. In the blow it was given a need. It could feel the race of the creature it had hit. An ancient evil of a devilish kind with a hint if demon and a race of elves from long ago. In addition to this it knew this creature to be undead and forever more the hammer would find these beings easier to slay and in time it may even grow a personality to help slay such creatures, like Lawbringer.
Delvina opened her eyes, she could see perfectly, her faith had guided her home.
* * *
Acererak’s soul was called back to the Prime Material Plane when Shump inserted the Golden Key into the door. He was not upset that his experiment was made to wait. He had lived longer than any, other than the Gods, and patience had become second nature. Besides, it was all in his plan; it was what the tomb was built for. He would lure brave strong souls into the tomb and test their worth with a series of traps and tricks. Those that would make it to the end would make worthy souls to fuel his dark ends. He needed souls for a purpose only he knew. He was so close, so very close to having all he would ever need, but he had unbridled patience and would not rush into things. Others had come before, and they have all lost their souls, so would these adventurers.
He felt the second key being inserted into the floor keyhole and he knew the battle was about to begin. He summoned forth a mighty ghost as he always did. It was meant to scare and surprise the victims into using their deadliest magic on it rather than him. Not that it mattered, for his dark experiments had made him immune to almost all but the most powerful magic.
He was not surprised to see the Efreet with them, but was a little put out that the Efreet had helped them. He had trapped the creature many eons ago and was very strict about how he should conduct himself in the Tomb; however, the Efreet had other plans after so many years of confinement. Once Shump rushed passed the ghost, Acererak knew that he had only a moment to react and react he did. He rose into the air a skillfully dodged the blade. As he did he stared into the soul of the Efreet and sucked it from its body and into a gem.
He had power over the souls of any before him and he could take them at his will. None had ever stood up to him and none ever would. He thought about what to do with the soul of the Efreet. He could just simply add him to the mixing of other souls he had accumulated, adding to his power, or he could drink his soul for pleasure or return it to its body at a later date to have him continue to serve to Demi-Lich, yet again. He was not yet sure what to do yet, so he waited a moment. In that moment a blinding pain flashed in his memory. It had been a long time since he felt pain. Since before he turned from the flesh and became a lich to be certain. This was no ordinary pain; it was a holy energy from what he had thought was a long forgotten religion. Acererak was the master of negative energy, the power of death some would say; others would say the power of nothing. Acererak was just hit with a jolt of positive energy, the power of life, the power of everything. The two energies reacted in such a way as to create a massive blast that collided, positive meeting negative. The two energies hardly ever met, usually the Prime Material World separated the two, creating a balance between the two, but in rare cases the polar opposites would meet and such an outcome was never pleasant.
In that moment that he was blinded with searing pain he had never felt before the was barely able to duck out of the way of the Dagger of Dulum. He scanned the room for the one responsible for positive energy and quickly found the cleric of Pelor preparing another prayer to his God. He would end this quickly, he would drink his soul and add it to power his dark needs. Then, in that instant he changed his mind as the Dagger of Dulum pierced the back of his skull. His life force was nearly lost with that blow and he knew that he could not let this hideous orc woman live. He rose from the ground and stared at the soul of Shump and she too fell to the ground in a pile of dust as her soul became trapped within Acererak’s diamond eye.
It was no cleric of Pelor, but the sweet taste of the soul would do nicely to power his needs. He scanned the room again and found the cleric of Pelor again and rose to drink his soul too when a thundering jolt shook him and knocked him down. He rose in an anger he had not felt in a great while only to find the heavy face of the hammer smashing down into his own face, sending his backwards. In that instant he knew pain like none before. The hammer was now attuned to him and him alone, and others like him in race and creed. However, he would evermore fear this weapon and regard it as a threat. He would kill whomever wielded this weapon, whomever touched it, whomever looked at it. He flew through the air and his skull hit the wall behind him, driving the Dagger if Dulum the remainder of the way into his skull, burring the blade to the hilt.
He was so close to power, so close to finishing, and now he was dead.
