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<blockquote data-quote="RangerWickett" data-source="post: 28728" data-attributes="member: 63"><p><strong><span style="font-size: 12px">Chapter Seventeen: A Shard of Night</span></strong></p><p></p><p>It is late-afternoon when the party decides to ride off and find Lorkimeht, who apparently possesses a ‘broken rock’ that Limoges wants. As they finish rounding up five horses for themselves, two problems become apparent. The first is that Roth is thoroughly drunk from the everflowing ale flask Tauster gave him, and so he cannot go with them. The second problem is Bhur. He has spent the last half hour sitting on a stool next to the stake to which the captive Goblin is tied, trying to show it that he means it no harm. The Goblin is sulking dejectedly, trying to ignore the Elf who keeps jabbering at it.</p><p></p><p>When Harley suggests Bhur should just let the Goblin go free, since if it stays around it might escape anyway and turn on him, Bhur stands up and stares down at Harley. While this is far from intimidating (because Bhur is half a foot taller and substantially skinnier than Harley), Harley does step back, wondering briefly why Bhur is angry. Then she remembers.</p><p></p><p>“So,” Bhurisrava says, “you want me to get rid of <em>another</em> pet! Well it’s not about to happen. I captured this Goblin, and he’s mine to keep and take care of.”</p><p></p><p>Harley sighs. “I know it’s just a Goblin, but it <em>is</em> intelligent, in its own way. You can’t just keep an intelligent person as a pet, Bhur. Just let the thing go so it can go back to its tribe. I’m sure after having you beat it up, it won’t think of attacking anyone here again.”</p><p></p><p>“I don’t think so,” Bhur says. “I’m going to reeducate this Goblin. Teach it Innenlesti for one thing. If I leave now, the guards here will either kill him or let him go, and he’ll revert to his savage ways, or die. He deserves a <em>new</em> life.”</p><p></p><p>Walking up, James shakes his head. “You’re not bringing that Goblin with us. Cut ‘im loose.”</p><p></p><p>Bhur refuses. “You can just go on without me, then. I’ll stay here and make sure Roth and the others are safe.”</p><p></p><p>They try a few more times, but Bhur is still petulant enough to stay, so they shrug and leave him, telling him how foolish he’s being before they ride off toward the Great Rock Dale. Once they’re out of earshot, Harley comments that the fact that Bhur is a priest is one of the greatest proofs that the Christian God doesn’t exist.</p><p></p><p>[Meta: Neither Roth nor Bhur’s players made it to this session, and they gave the above excuses for why their characters wouldn’t go along. Blame them, not me.]</p><p></p><p>They follow a dirt road to Allar’s keep, where they leave word of where they’re headed, in case Allar comes back early. The guards say that Allar was not planning to return for another two or three days, but that they’ll pass along the message if he comes back before they do. Vic makes sure to pick up a few supplies in the form of spare water flasks for all of them, and then they ride for another two hours until it grows dark.</p><p></p><p>That night they stay at a small farmhouse about two miles from the Great Rock Dale, owned by the Jonestone family. James pays the father of the house a fair sum for their lodgings, and Harley spends the night entertaining the children with magic tricks and talking to the mother of the house. Harley is particularly interested in the berry preserves the family makes from the nearby Hardlow woods, and she purchases a jarful gladly. Vic goes to sleep early, thinking it will be best if they sneak into the Great Rock Dale slightly before sunrise, when the chance of running into guards from the Orc tribe in lowest. James agrees, and warns Harley to be ready to wake up even earlier than usual. Just to be safe, though, Vic says he’ll prepare a spell that will let him change his appearance, in case he needs to pass as an Orc.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Packing the jar of blackberry preserves into her horse’s saddelbag, Harley forces herself to accept that a little sleep is not as important as getting in and getting out discreetly. While James thanks Mr. Jonestone for the lodgings and purchases an oil lamp, and Vic attunes himself to the elemental water forces in the area, Harley admires her newest weapon—the long, curved-blade spear that was dropped by the Taranesti woman in the woods. The naginata is finely made, and must have been worth a fortune to the dark Elf for its wooden shaft alone. She finds some open space near the farmhouse and gives the weapon a few testing swings, trying to get used to wielding it. In general, she prefers her daggers because they are faster and can be thrown, but she is starting to take a liking to the elegant, arcing slices of the naginata.</p><p></p><p>James leads the way as they ride away from the farmhouse. In the west, the moon is low, and it is huge on the horizon before them as they ride toward the Dale. They still have another two hours until the sun rises, but the moonlight is enough for James to read the map by. He guides them to the appropriate location, a few miles north along the Dale’s eastern edge. According to the map, the cave is high on the wall of the Dale, and cannot be easily reached from the lower ground in the center of the canyon. The cave of Lorkimeht can be identified by a pair of huge stone slabs leaning across its face.</p><p></p><p>They find a likely spot, which even has a slight switchback trail for them to lead their horses down. They decide, however, to leave two of the horses tied to a tree near the top of the rift, and only bring one down, which is all they need to carry their equipment. As they lead the single horse down, in the distance they can make out the faint lights of campfires in a few scattered caves on the cliff walls. They hope that no one can make them out from this far, but just to be safe they go without any helping light. This is relatively easy for Harley and James, but Vic has to walk slowly and carefully, muttering constantly how he really wished Bhur were here to help out. Harley agrees that even though the priest doesn’t know what he’s talking about half the time, he’s always been willing to help protect them.</p><p></p><p>They come up to the cave, whose mouth is about ten feet tall and similarly wide, and just barely below the rim of the canyon wall. The pair of stone slabs mentioned in the map form a triangle with the ground and wall, and they notice that at this very angle, as the moon sets on the opposite horizon, only a single beam of moonlight passes through the space between the slabs. It creates a faint, long dagger-shaped shard of light on the stone ground, about 8 feet long, that leads into the cave. Beyond the tip of the moonlight dagger, the cave it wholly black. Even with Elvensight, which can normally see the world as if it were glass lit by starlight, this cave is as black as pitch.</p><p></p><p>“Um, when we get in, it is alright for me to make some light,” Vic says nervously, “right?”</p><p></p><p>Harley nods weakly, drawing her blue-hilted dagger. “Yeah, that’s probably a good idea. Do we have any idea who this Lorkimeht is? Why would he live in a cave?”</p><p></p><p>James shrugs. “Probably just an Orc or Troll. Don’t get so worried. Vic, light.”</p><p></p><p>One cantrip later, a blue halo appears around Vic’s head, illuminating the cavern. The tunnel slopes slightly downward for twenty feet, ending in a black curtain that stretches across the width of the passageway. Vic glances to the others. “This looks like it’s our place.”</p><p></p><p>Harley starts to edge toward the exit nervously, but James reaches out an arm and snags the back of her shirt. She sighs, then follows as James strides toward the curtain. When they reach it, James pulls the curtain aside, and Vic’s light spills into the room. They immediately notice the motion of a huge wooden rocking chair, twice the size of a normal one, creaking back and forth. Then, to the side of it and twenty feet beyond is a vague dark shape, six feet tall.</p><p></p><p>“I have a letter for you,” James says boldly, striding into the room with his sword held ready. Harley and Vic follow behind, though not as eagerly. “The priests of Chult want your ‘broken rock.’”</p><p></p><p>The dark form beyond the rocking chair shifts with a slight rustling of cloth. Vic’s meager light cantrip only vaguely reveals a huge figure, seated in a thronelike seat of stone. Vaguely human, but twice as large, it leers at them from the gloom, light gleaming from its dark horns and inky black eyes. In one hand it casually holds a large axe, its metal head gleaming cooly. A cold grin spreads across the figure’s face as it lays its gaze upon them, and suddenly Vic’s light spell is snuffed out.</p><p></p><p>“You cannot have the shard.”</p><p></p><p>The gravelly voice echoes through the lightless cavern, twisting to ominous wisps of sound before it fades entirely.</p><p></p><p>“No gold, no gems or jewels are worth this treasure. It is a shard of the deepest night itself, and all who covet it shall fall by my dark hand.”</p><p></p><p>They listen carefully, but all they can hear is the faint breathing of Lorkimeht. Suddenly, a feeling of cold wraps around Harley like a veil, then sharpens, digging into her skin like claws. She cries out in pain and leaps away, slashing blindly with her dagger.</p><p></p><p>“Vic, light! Vic!”</p><p></p><p>Light flickers briefly from Vic’s hands, flaring white and cutting the room into vague focus, then suddenly blacking away and returning, strobing from light and dark. In the unsteady flashes of light, Harley sees a nearly flat plane of shadow, resembling a skeletal paper cut-out, reaching for her with flat, black claws. It cringes slightly at the light, then glares at her with hollow red eyes and slashes across her chest. She feels agony as the claws dig in, and even though they leave no wound, she feels her body growing duller around her, heavier. Desperately, she stabs at the shadow, and it seems to flinch back in pain, but the only sound she hears is the beating of her own heart.</p><p></p><p>James gestures for Vic to follow him. “The ogre’s commanding the shadow. We kill the ogre. Harley, do what you’re best at.”</p><p></p><p>Harley does just that, turning and running back for the mouth of the cave. She can feel the shadow pursuing her, bounding across darkened stones, always following at her heels. As she struggles to pull the heavy curtain out of her way in the gloom, the shadow rakes its claws across her back. She stumbles forward onto her knees, but manages to crawl under the curtain and kick forward into another sprint. Behind her, the shadow does not hesitate in its hunt.</p><p></p><p>In the throne room, James charges toward Lorkimeht, who shakes his head in disapproval. As James slashes for him, the horned giant rises from his throne and parries casually with the haft of his axe, then snaps the axe blade down onto James’s shoulder. James ducks most of the force of the blow, but it rips through his chainmail and cuts into his flesh. He pulls away, and Lorkimeht growls contentedly. He glares down at James, eyes flickering in the strobing light, and James wonders if he is actually outclassed.</p><p></p><p>From the side, Vic tries to surprise him with a volley of ice shards, but the Ogre accepts the slicing hail with barely a grimace. He simply turns to face Vic, then calmly adjusts his long robe, unconcerned with the threat they might pose. He flexes the muscles in his chest dramatically, then clenches his hands tightly around the axe’s haft. The black shard of stone lashed to the haft shimmers, cold wafting from it as Lorkimeht draws back for an attack. Vic’s eyes widen in worry, and he leaps to the ground as Lorkimeht’s axe cleaves the air where he had been standing.</p><p></p><p>“Get ‘im, James!” Vic shouts as he scrambles to his feet. </p><p></p><p>Behind the Ogre, James uses the seat of the stone throne as a step to gain higher ground to attack. He slashes downward with his sword, at Lorkimeht’s back, and though his blade digs a jagged cut across the Ogre’s back, it is overall a minor wound. Lorkimeht pauses to contemplate whether to pursue the spellcaster or the warrior, then mockingly shoves James bare-handed, setting the man off-balance. James falls off the throne onto the floor, and tries to push himself to his feet to get up his defense, but Lorkimeht turns away with a laugh, and James realizes that he is being toyed with.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Outside the curtain, Harley sprints back up the daggerlength of moonlight, toward the open air outside where the horse is. The shadow hesistates for a moment at the edge of the starlight, then leaps past Harley, scrambling between her and the horse. Harley stops in fear, while the horse rears against its reins at the unnatural force before it.</p><p></p><p>In the moonlight, the shadow is a skeletal humanoid, it’s skull elongated, with a tail-like stinger lashing about its waist, like a scorpion. Harley shudders at the sight, having always loathed the sting of scorpions. Feeding off her fear, the shadow’s eyes flare scarlet, and it leaps for her. She tumbles to the side, landing on her back clumsily from the enfeebling effect of the shadow’s earlier attacks, and for a moment, she waits in panic, unable to move. Then she hears the horse’s screams as the shadow tears at its flesh. Steeling herself, she leaps to her feet and forces her way past the shadow, to the horse. The shadow’s tail lashes at her, but she twists her body to dodge.</p><p></p><p>When she reaches the horse, she slashes across the straps holding the naginata in place with her dagger, then pulls the weapon off the saddle. In the same motion, she slashes the ties holding the horse with the naginata’s blade, freeing the horse to run. Somehow, with the naginata in her hands, she feels more comfortable, and she holds the weapon ready to defend herself.</p><p></p><p>The horse bolts away, kicking up a cloud of dust, and in the obscurement, the shadow disappears. Harley waits, nervous, then runs back into the tunnel, guessing that the creature is going after her friends. She has just run inside when she realizes that she can actually see through the unnatural gloom. Through some magic of the naginata, the magical darkness is no obstacle, and she can clearly see the shadow hiding in ambush near the curtain. She smiles, and draws from her experience as an actor, drawing on her remaining fear to trick the creature into underestimating her.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Vic jumps back to try to dodge Lorkimeht’s cleaving swing, but too slowly, and he is cut deeply across his chest. Gagging in pain, he falls to the ground, cringing at the sheer presence of the Ogre. Then, a moment later, he hears the heavy thud of giant footsteps leading away, heading back toward James. Vic forces himself to his feet, clutching the long gash on his chest, but as he watches the Ogre stalk toward James, he realizes he has no spells that will help, and no weapons worth the effort.</p><p></p><p>James drops to one knee as he blocks Lorkimeht’s downward axechop, and he manages to score a well-aimed slash across the Ogre’s thigh. He snaps his gaze toward Vic and shouts, “Look! We can make him bleed.”</p><p></p><p>Lorkimeht butts the head of his axe into James chest, knocking him back slightly, but James laughs. “You call that a hit? Vic, he just wants to scare us, since he knows,” James pauses to feint a slash, then lash out with a kick to the Ogre’s knee, “that he’s no good in a real fight. Has to send his stupid,” he ducks a punch, then parries an axeblow, “pet to do the dirty work!”</p><p></p><p>Growling, Lorkimeht swings his axe in a huge arc, forcing James to the floor. He then kicks at James, but James rolls with the impact, coming to his feet only slightly dissheveled. He pushes his hair out of his eyes, then glances at Vic, hoping not to betray that his leg is fractured.</p><p></p><p>Lorkimeht steps back slightly and twirls his axe in an impressive spin, waiting for James to make a move. As Vic watches, he nods slowly, a smile stretching across his face. He’s been running so far, but now it’s time to take the bastard down a notch. He begins to cast, smirking at the Ogre’s expression as it turns in surprise. With a brief choke, Lorkimeht lowers his guard and grabs at his throat with his free hand, gasping as he feels his mouth go dry, his entire body filling with thirst. Vic knows it is only trickery, but to the Ogre, it is life-threatening dehydration.</p><p></p><p>He snarls desperately, spotting a flask of water on James’s belt, but before he attacks, he raises his axe high, wrapping his hand around the black stone. Vic’s light flickers again, but he focuses on keeping it active, and suddenly the strobing stops. From the orb in Vic’s hand, light fills the room, exposing the Ogre as simply a thirsting creature. Cursing the wizard, Lorkimeht tries to swing for James’s head, but James takes the blow on his shoulder instead.</p><p></p><p>As James falls to the ground, Lorkimeht yanks the flask of water from his belt and gulps it thirstily, then tosses it away, unquenched. Suddenly, a laugh comes from behind him, and Lorkimeht turns to see the oddest thing in his entire life.</p><p></p><p>[Meta: Vic’s player Justin asks, “Can <em>alter self</em> make me look like the Kool-Aid man?” I stare at him, dumbfounded and sickened at his cruel sense of humor, and though I don’t want my ominous Ogre to be so embarrassed, I let Justin get away with it.]</p><p></p><p>“Can’t catch me,” mocks the creature standing where Vic was a moment earlier. Slightly larger than a man, instead of a body it has a huge glass pitcher filled with blue liquid that sloshes enticingly. It’s arms and legs are fairly normal, though they are far too soft and comical for a real creature. But what does it for James is the front of the pitcher, which has been iced in the caricatured features of a grinning Vic. James, despite his wounds, bursts into laughter.</p><p></p><p>Lorkimeht rushes for the tub of drink that is Vic, but the pitcher man (shouting, “Kool! Aid! Kool! Aid!” breaks away in a run, sprinting in a circuit around the edge of the cave. Lorkimeht gives chase desperately, snarling in frustration at the combined laughter from the wizard and the injured fighter on the ground. He would kill them both, but he knows that if he doesn’t drink <em>now</em>, he will die.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Beyond the curtain, the shadow pounces for Harley, but she is ready for it, and she bluffs it into attacking where she is not. Tumbling to the side, she thrusts out the spear before she even regains her feet, and the blade gouges through the skeletal shadow’s ribcage. It tilts back its body in a silent scream, then lunges for her again, its claws outstretched. She ducks one slash, then uses the naginata to cut through the curtain, dropping half of it to the ground. This lets the light from Vic’s spell fill the outside tunnel, and both Harley and the shadow pause.</p><p></p><p>The shadow pauses because even the dimmest light stings it.</p><p></p><p>Harley pauses because she has never seen James laugh before.</p><p></p><p>She herself breaks into laughter at the sight of Vic, but then pays for it as the shadow gouges across her arm. She cries out in pain, then slashes at the shadow again as she backs into the throne room. She calls for James’s help, but James is having a hard enough time even standing up, and there is not much room in the tunnel for a good swing at the shadow, so she starts to run herself, circling the room in the opposite direction as Vic. The two of them rush toward each other, Harley aiming for the desperate Ogre, Vic for the pursuing shadow. Then, as they paths cross, Harley leaps into the air, naginata drawn back wide.</p><p></p><p>With a full slash, she swings the blade in a wide arc, barely over Vic’s head, level with Lorkimeht’s stooped and thirsting face. The blade smacks in loudly, and as Harley lands from her leap, Lorkimeht topples backward.</p><p></p><p>Simultaneously, Vic reverts to his original form and thrusts the hand-held cantrip of light at the shadow. It dodges to the side, crimson eyes seemingly panicked now. Vic laughs, “I have you now!” and lunges for the shadow, flinging himself at it bodily. The shadow has no substance, so he falls straight through it, but as the light spell passes into the shadow’s body, the creature bursts into a thousand shards of blackness that scatter about the room like dust, quickly fading into nothing.</p><p></p><p>Vic gives a cheer, and helps Harley extract her naginata from the Ogre’s mouth. As Lorkimeht dies, drowning face-up in his own blood, he finally gets the drink he so desperately wanted.</p><p></p><p>James, Harley, and Vic congratulate each other, and then they focus on binding each other’s wounds. Harley collapses from exhaustion, finally feeling the effects of the shadow’s touch. She can barely hold the naginata anymore, so she rests weakly against the cavern wall. James and Vic do their best to bandage each other up, which in James’s case involves having to pluck bits of chainmail out of his wounds where the axe dug in. James lights up the lantern he bought from the Jonestones, and they relax.</p><p></p><p>All in all, none of them can really lift or move anything (Vic has broken ribs, James a broken leg, and Harley is just physically sapped), so they have to spend a few hours resting in the same room as a dead Ogre. Even though the walls are relatively well decorated with animal skins and the odd hung tapestry (“Where did he get those?” Harley wonders), the only real furniture is the rocking chair, the throne, a large wooden chest filled with dried seasoned meat, a pair of large boulders, and a bed. The bed is well-tended and huge, but they feel uneasy enough as is, so they decide not to sleep in the bed of a person they just killed.</p><p></p><p>After a little rest, Harley does her best to investigate the room, looking for treasure they can take. Obviously the shard is the black stone lashed to the Orc’s axe, but aside from the wall hangings, they see nothing else. Only after much fruitless curiosity does Harley realize that the shadows on the boulders are wrong. One boulder has shadows in the right direction, but the other has the exact same arrangement of shadows, just reversed, like a mirror. Taking a guess, Vic uses the blade of Harley’s naginata to prod at the rock, and they discover that it’s simply an illusion. </p><p></p><p>A little investigation later, they discover a small glass mirror in the center of the illusory boulder, which Vic guesses is probably enchanted, because when they pick it up, the boulder vanishes. There were also four iron bear-traps spaced around the edge of the illusion, which thankfully they manage to avoid. Finally, there is a heavy steel chest, which they could never hope to move, but the lock of which Harley manages to pick after a few minutes of trying. They guess that the chest must just have been spoils from a raid, not Lorkimeht’s own, since all it contains are a pouch of coins, a spellbook, a wand made of burnt wood, and a pair of fancy dresses that, at first glance, are meant for a woman much more revealing and well-endowed than Harley.</p><p></p><p>Vic guesses, “He’s probably been using that shadow of his to hunt for as long as he’s had the shard. When the sun comes up, we should get out of here and get back to Bhur. I don’t want to carry that thing at night.”</p><p></p><p>Harley sighs, embarrassed to ask, but she finally does. “Vic, could you also take the spear? I can’t carry it very well.” (Which was true. The shadow’s touch had reduced her to a Strength of 2).</p><p></p><p>Vic nods and shrugs. “Sure, don’t mention it. And I’ll be taking <em>this</em> too.”</p><p></p><p>He cuts the shard off Lorkimeht’s axe, puts the shard aside, then lifts the axe. “My old mentor Hunter told me to always cut off their heads, to make sure they don’t come back. You laugh, but I could tell you some stories Hunter told me that’d shut you right up.”</p><p></p><p>With a light chuckle, he brings down the axe and chops off Lorkimeht’s head.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="RangerWickett, post: 28728, member: 63"] [b][size=3]Chapter Seventeen: A Shard of Night[/size][/b][size=3][/size] It is late-afternoon when the party decides to ride off and find Lorkimeht, who apparently possesses a ‘broken rock’ that Limoges wants. As they finish rounding up five horses for themselves, two problems become apparent. The first is that Roth is thoroughly drunk from the everflowing ale flask Tauster gave him, and so he cannot go with them. The second problem is Bhur. He has spent the last half hour sitting on a stool next to the stake to which the captive Goblin is tied, trying to show it that he means it no harm. The Goblin is sulking dejectedly, trying to ignore the Elf who keeps jabbering at it. When Harley suggests Bhur should just let the Goblin go free, since if it stays around it might escape anyway and turn on him, Bhur stands up and stares down at Harley. While this is far from intimidating (because Bhur is half a foot taller and substantially skinnier than Harley), Harley does step back, wondering briefly why Bhur is angry. Then she remembers. “So,” Bhurisrava says, “you want me to get rid of [i]another[/i] pet! Well it’s not about to happen. I captured this Goblin, and he’s mine to keep and take care of.” Harley sighs. “I know it’s just a Goblin, but it [i]is[/i] intelligent, in its own way. You can’t just keep an intelligent person as a pet, Bhur. Just let the thing go so it can go back to its tribe. I’m sure after having you beat it up, it won’t think of attacking anyone here again.” “I don’t think so,” Bhur says. “I’m going to reeducate this Goblin. Teach it Innenlesti for one thing. If I leave now, the guards here will either kill him or let him go, and he’ll revert to his savage ways, or die. He deserves a [i]new[/i] life.” Walking up, James shakes his head. “You’re not bringing that Goblin with us. Cut ‘im loose.” Bhur refuses. “You can just go on without me, then. I’ll stay here and make sure Roth and the others are safe.” They try a few more times, but Bhur is still petulant enough to stay, so they shrug and leave him, telling him how foolish he’s being before they ride off toward the Great Rock Dale. Once they’re out of earshot, Harley comments that the fact that Bhur is a priest is one of the greatest proofs that the Christian God doesn’t exist. [Meta: Neither Roth nor Bhur’s players made it to this session, and they gave the above excuses for why their characters wouldn’t go along. Blame them, not me.] They follow a dirt road to Allar’s keep, where they leave word of where they’re headed, in case Allar comes back early. The guards say that Allar was not planning to return for another two or three days, but that they’ll pass along the message if he comes back before they do. Vic makes sure to pick up a few supplies in the form of spare water flasks for all of them, and then they ride for another two hours until it grows dark. That night they stay at a small farmhouse about two miles from the Great Rock Dale, owned by the Jonestone family. James pays the father of the house a fair sum for their lodgings, and Harley spends the night entertaining the children with magic tricks and talking to the mother of the house. Harley is particularly interested in the berry preserves the family makes from the nearby Hardlow woods, and she purchases a jarful gladly. Vic goes to sleep early, thinking it will be best if they sneak into the Great Rock Dale slightly before sunrise, when the chance of running into guards from the Orc tribe in lowest. James agrees, and warns Harley to be ready to wake up even earlier than usual. Just to be safe, though, Vic says he’ll prepare a spell that will let him change his appearance, in case he needs to pass as an Orc. Packing the jar of blackberry preserves into her horse’s saddelbag, Harley forces herself to accept that a little sleep is not as important as getting in and getting out discreetly. While James thanks Mr. Jonestone for the lodgings and purchases an oil lamp, and Vic attunes himself to the elemental water forces in the area, Harley admires her newest weapon—the long, curved-blade spear that was dropped by the Taranesti woman in the woods. The naginata is finely made, and must have been worth a fortune to the dark Elf for its wooden shaft alone. She finds some open space near the farmhouse and gives the weapon a few testing swings, trying to get used to wielding it. In general, she prefers her daggers because they are faster and can be thrown, but she is starting to take a liking to the elegant, arcing slices of the naginata. James leads the way as they ride away from the farmhouse. In the west, the moon is low, and it is huge on the horizon before them as they ride toward the Dale. They still have another two hours until the sun rises, but the moonlight is enough for James to read the map by. He guides them to the appropriate location, a few miles north along the Dale’s eastern edge. According to the map, the cave is high on the wall of the Dale, and cannot be easily reached from the lower ground in the center of the canyon. The cave of Lorkimeht can be identified by a pair of huge stone slabs leaning across its face. They find a likely spot, which even has a slight switchback trail for them to lead their horses down. They decide, however, to leave two of the horses tied to a tree near the top of the rift, and only bring one down, which is all they need to carry their equipment. As they lead the single horse down, in the distance they can make out the faint lights of campfires in a few scattered caves on the cliff walls. They hope that no one can make them out from this far, but just to be safe they go without any helping light. This is relatively easy for Harley and James, but Vic has to walk slowly and carefully, muttering constantly how he really wished Bhur were here to help out. Harley agrees that even though the priest doesn’t know what he’s talking about half the time, he’s always been willing to help protect them. They come up to the cave, whose mouth is about ten feet tall and similarly wide, and just barely below the rim of the canyon wall. The pair of stone slabs mentioned in the map form a triangle with the ground and wall, and they notice that at this very angle, as the moon sets on the opposite horizon, only a single beam of moonlight passes through the space between the slabs. It creates a faint, long dagger-shaped shard of light on the stone ground, about 8 feet long, that leads into the cave. Beyond the tip of the moonlight dagger, the cave it wholly black. Even with Elvensight, which can normally see the world as if it were glass lit by starlight, this cave is as black as pitch. “Um, when we get in, it is alright for me to make some light,” Vic says nervously, “right?” Harley nods weakly, drawing her blue-hilted dagger. “Yeah, that’s probably a good idea. Do we have any idea who this Lorkimeht is? Why would he live in a cave?” James shrugs. “Probably just an Orc or Troll. Don’t get so worried. Vic, light.” One cantrip later, a blue halo appears around Vic’s head, illuminating the cavern. The tunnel slopes slightly downward for twenty feet, ending in a black curtain that stretches across the width of the passageway. Vic glances to the others. “This looks like it’s our place.” Harley starts to edge toward the exit nervously, but James reaches out an arm and snags the back of her shirt. She sighs, then follows as James strides toward the curtain. When they reach it, James pulls the curtain aside, and Vic’s light spills into the room. They immediately notice the motion of a huge wooden rocking chair, twice the size of a normal one, creaking back and forth. Then, to the side of it and twenty feet beyond is a vague dark shape, six feet tall. “I have a letter for you,” James says boldly, striding into the room with his sword held ready. Harley and Vic follow behind, though not as eagerly. “The priests of Chult want your ‘broken rock.’” The dark form beyond the rocking chair shifts with a slight rustling of cloth. Vic’s meager light cantrip only vaguely reveals a huge figure, seated in a thronelike seat of stone. Vaguely human, but twice as large, it leers at them from the gloom, light gleaming from its dark horns and inky black eyes. In one hand it casually holds a large axe, its metal head gleaming cooly. A cold grin spreads across the figure’s face as it lays its gaze upon them, and suddenly Vic’s light spell is snuffed out. “You cannot have the shard.” The gravelly voice echoes through the lightless cavern, twisting to ominous wisps of sound before it fades entirely. “No gold, no gems or jewels are worth this treasure. It is a shard of the deepest night itself, and all who covet it shall fall by my dark hand.” They listen carefully, but all they can hear is the faint breathing of Lorkimeht. Suddenly, a feeling of cold wraps around Harley like a veil, then sharpens, digging into her skin like claws. She cries out in pain and leaps away, slashing blindly with her dagger. “Vic, light! Vic!” Light flickers briefly from Vic’s hands, flaring white and cutting the room into vague focus, then suddenly blacking away and returning, strobing from light and dark. In the unsteady flashes of light, Harley sees a nearly flat plane of shadow, resembling a skeletal paper cut-out, reaching for her with flat, black claws. It cringes slightly at the light, then glares at her with hollow red eyes and slashes across her chest. She feels agony as the claws dig in, and even though they leave no wound, she feels her body growing duller around her, heavier. Desperately, she stabs at the shadow, and it seems to flinch back in pain, but the only sound she hears is the beating of her own heart. James gestures for Vic to follow him. “The ogre’s commanding the shadow. We kill the ogre. Harley, do what you’re best at.” Harley does just that, turning and running back for the mouth of the cave. She can feel the shadow pursuing her, bounding across darkened stones, always following at her heels. As she struggles to pull the heavy curtain out of her way in the gloom, the shadow rakes its claws across her back. She stumbles forward onto her knees, but manages to crawl under the curtain and kick forward into another sprint. Behind her, the shadow does not hesitate in its hunt. In the throne room, James charges toward Lorkimeht, who shakes his head in disapproval. As James slashes for him, the horned giant rises from his throne and parries casually with the haft of his axe, then snaps the axe blade down onto James’s shoulder. James ducks most of the force of the blow, but it rips through his chainmail and cuts into his flesh. He pulls away, and Lorkimeht growls contentedly. He glares down at James, eyes flickering in the strobing light, and James wonders if he is actually outclassed. From the side, Vic tries to surprise him with a volley of ice shards, but the Ogre accepts the slicing hail with barely a grimace. He simply turns to face Vic, then calmly adjusts his long robe, unconcerned with the threat they might pose. He flexes the muscles in his chest dramatically, then clenches his hands tightly around the axe’s haft. The black shard of stone lashed to the haft shimmers, cold wafting from it as Lorkimeht draws back for an attack. Vic’s eyes widen in worry, and he leaps to the ground as Lorkimeht’s axe cleaves the air where he had been standing. “Get ‘im, James!” Vic shouts as he scrambles to his feet. Behind the Ogre, James uses the seat of the stone throne as a step to gain higher ground to attack. He slashes downward with his sword, at Lorkimeht’s back, and though his blade digs a jagged cut across the Ogre’s back, it is overall a minor wound. Lorkimeht pauses to contemplate whether to pursue the spellcaster or the warrior, then mockingly shoves James bare-handed, setting the man off-balance. James falls off the throne onto the floor, and tries to push himself to his feet to get up his defense, but Lorkimeht turns away with a laugh, and James realizes that he is being toyed with. Outside the curtain, Harley sprints back up the daggerlength of moonlight, toward the open air outside where the horse is. The shadow hesistates for a moment at the edge of the starlight, then leaps past Harley, scrambling between her and the horse. Harley stops in fear, while the horse rears against its reins at the unnatural force before it. In the moonlight, the shadow is a skeletal humanoid, it’s skull elongated, with a tail-like stinger lashing about its waist, like a scorpion. Harley shudders at the sight, having always loathed the sting of scorpions. Feeding off her fear, the shadow’s eyes flare scarlet, and it leaps for her. She tumbles to the side, landing on her back clumsily from the enfeebling effect of the shadow’s earlier attacks, and for a moment, she waits in panic, unable to move. Then she hears the horse’s screams as the shadow tears at its flesh. Steeling herself, she leaps to her feet and forces her way past the shadow, to the horse. The shadow’s tail lashes at her, but she twists her body to dodge. When she reaches the horse, she slashes across the straps holding the naginata in place with her dagger, then pulls the weapon off the saddle. In the same motion, she slashes the ties holding the horse with the naginata’s blade, freeing the horse to run. Somehow, with the naginata in her hands, she feels more comfortable, and she holds the weapon ready to defend herself. The horse bolts away, kicking up a cloud of dust, and in the obscurement, the shadow disappears. Harley waits, nervous, then runs back into the tunnel, guessing that the creature is going after her friends. She has just run inside when she realizes that she can actually see through the unnatural gloom. Through some magic of the naginata, the magical darkness is no obstacle, and she can clearly see the shadow hiding in ambush near the curtain. She smiles, and draws from her experience as an actor, drawing on her remaining fear to trick the creature into underestimating her. Vic jumps back to try to dodge Lorkimeht’s cleaving swing, but too slowly, and he is cut deeply across his chest. Gagging in pain, he falls to the ground, cringing at the sheer presence of the Ogre. Then, a moment later, he hears the heavy thud of giant footsteps leading away, heading back toward James. Vic forces himself to his feet, clutching the long gash on his chest, but as he watches the Ogre stalk toward James, he realizes he has no spells that will help, and no weapons worth the effort. James drops to one knee as he blocks Lorkimeht’s downward axechop, and he manages to score a well-aimed slash across the Ogre’s thigh. He snaps his gaze toward Vic and shouts, “Look! We can make him bleed.” Lorkimeht butts the head of his axe into James chest, knocking him back slightly, but James laughs. “You call that a hit? Vic, he just wants to scare us, since he knows,” James pauses to feint a slash, then lash out with a kick to the Ogre’s knee, “that he’s no good in a real fight. Has to send his stupid,” he ducks a punch, then parries an axeblow, “pet to do the dirty work!” Growling, Lorkimeht swings his axe in a huge arc, forcing James to the floor. He then kicks at James, but James rolls with the impact, coming to his feet only slightly dissheveled. He pushes his hair out of his eyes, then glances at Vic, hoping not to betray that his leg is fractured. Lorkimeht steps back slightly and twirls his axe in an impressive spin, waiting for James to make a move. As Vic watches, he nods slowly, a smile stretching across his face. He’s been running so far, but now it’s time to take the bastard down a notch. He begins to cast, smirking at the Ogre’s expression as it turns in surprise. With a brief choke, Lorkimeht lowers his guard and grabs at his throat with his free hand, gasping as he feels his mouth go dry, his entire body filling with thirst. Vic knows it is only trickery, but to the Ogre, it is life-threatening dehydration. He snarls desperately, spotting a flask of water on James’s belt, but before he attacks, he raises his axe high, wrapping his hand around the black stone. Vic’s light flickers again, but he focuses on keeping it active, and suddenly the strobing stops. From the orb in Vic’s hand, light fills the room, exposing the Ogre as simply a thirsting creature. Cursing the wizard, Lorkimeht tries to swing for James’s head, but James takes the blow on his shoulder instead. As James falls to the ground, Lorkimeht yanks the flask of water from his belt and gulps it thirstily, then tosses it away, unquenched. Suddenly, a laugh comes from behind him, and Lorkimeht turns to see the oddest thing in his entire life. [Meta: Vic’s player Justin asks, “Can [i]alter self[/i] make me look like the Kool-Aid man?” I stare at him, dumbfounded and sickened at his cruel sense of humor, and though I don’t want my ominous Ogre to be so embarrassed, I let Justin get away with it.] “Can’t catch me,” mocks the creature standing where Vic was a moment earlier. Slightly larger than a man, instead of a body it has a huge glass pitcher filled with blue liquid that sloshes enticingly. It’s arms and legs are fairly normal, though they are far too soft and comical for a real creature. But what does it for James is the front of the pitcher, which has been iced in the caricatured features of a grinning Vic. James, despite his wounds, bursts into laughter. Lorkimeht rushes for the tub of drink that is Vic, but the pitcher man (shouting, “Kool! Aid! Kool! Aid!” breaks away in a run, sprinting in a circuit around the edge of the cave. Lorkimeht gives chase desperately, snarling in frustration at the combined laughter from the wizard and the injured fighter on the ground. He would kill them both, but he knows that if he doesn’t drink [i]now[/i], he will die. Beyond the curtain, the shadow pounces for Harley, but she is ready for it, and she bluffs it into attacking where she is not. Tumbling to the side, she thrusts out the spear before she even regains her feet, and the blade gouges through the skeletal shadow’s ribcage. It tilts back its body in a silent scream, then lunges for her again, its claws outstretched. She ducks one slash, then uses the naginata to cut through the curtain, dropping half of it to the ground. This lets the light from Vic’s spell fill the outside tunnel, and both Harley and the shadow pause. The shadow pauses because even the dimmest light stings it. Harley pauses because she has never seen James laugh before. She herself breaks into laughter at the sight of Vic, but then pays for it as the shadow gouges across her arm. She cries out in pain, then slashes at the shadow again as she backs into the throne room. She calls for James’s help, but James is having a hard enough time even standing up, and there is not much room in the tunnel for a good swing at the shadow, so she starts to run herself, circling the room in the opposite direction as Vic. The two of them rush toward each other, Harley aiming for the desperate Ogre, Vic for the pursuing shadow. Then, as they paths cross, Harley leaps into the air, naginata drawn back wide. With a full slash, she swings the blade in a wide arc, barely over Vic’s head, level with Lorkimeht’s stooped and thirsting face. The blade smacks in loudly, and as Harley lands from her leap, Lorkimeht topples backward. Simultaneously, Vic reverts to his original form and thrusts the hand-held cantrip of light at the shadow. It dodges to the side, crimson eyes seemingly panicked now. Vic laughs, “I have you now!” and lunges for the shadow, flinging himself at it bodily. The shadow has no substance, so he falls straight through it, but as the light spell passes into the shadow’s body, the creature bursts into a thousand shards of blackness that scatter about the room like dust, quickly fading into nothing. Vic gives a cheer, and helps Harley extract her naginata from the Ogre’s mouth. As Lorkimeht dies, drowning face-up in his own blood, he finally gets the drink he so desperately wanted. James, Harley, and Vic congratulate each other, and then they focus on binding each other’s wounds. Harley collapses from exhaustion, finally feeling the effects of the shadow’s touch. She can barely hold the naginata anymore, so she rests weakly against the cavern wall. James and Vic do their best to bandage each other up, which in James’s case involves having to pluck bits of chainmail out of his wounds where the axe dug in. James lights up the lantern he bought from the Jonestones, and they relax. All in all, none of them can really lift or move anything (Vic has broken ribs, James a broken leg, and Harley is just physically sapped), so they have to spend a few hours resting in the same room as a dead Ogre. Even though the walls are relatively well decorated with animal skins and the odd hung tapestry (“Where did he get those?” Harley wonders), the only real furniture is the rocking chair, the throne, a large wooden chest filled with dried seasoned meat, a pair of large boulders, and a bed. The bed is well-tended and huge, but they feel uneasy enough as is, so they decide not to sleep in the bed of a person they just killed. After a little rest, Harley does her best to investigate the room, looking for treasure they can take. Obviously the shard is the black stone lashed to the Orc’s axe, but aside from the wall hangings, they see nothing else. Only after much fruitless curiosity does Harley realize that the shadows on the boulders are wrong. One boulder has shadows in the right direction, but the other has the exact same arrangement of shadows, just reversed, like a mirror. Taking a guess, Vic uses the blade of Harley’s naginata to prod at the rock, and they discover that it’s simply an illusion. A little investigation later, they discover a small glass mirror in the center of the illusory boulder, which Vic guesses is probably enchanted, because when they pick it up, the boulder vanishes. There were also four iron bear-traps spaced around the edge of the illusion, which thankfully they manage to avoid. Finally, there is a heavy steel chest, which they could never hope to move, but the lock of which Harley manages to pick after a few minutes of trying. They guess that the chest must just have been spoils from a raid, not Lorkimeht’s own, since all it contains are a pouch of coins, a spellbook, a wand made of burnt wood, and a pair of fancy dresses that, at first glance, are meant for a woman much more revealing and well-endowed than Harley. Vic guesses, “He’s probably been using that shadow of his to hunt for as long as he’s had the shard. When the sun comes up, we should get out of here and get back to Bhur. I don’t want to carry that thing at night.” Harley sighs, embarrassed to ask, but she finally does. “Vic, could you also take the spear? I can’t carry it very well.” (Which was true. The shadow’s touch had reduced her to a Strength of 2). Vic nods and shrugs. “Sure, don’t mention it. And I’ll be taking [i]this[/i] too.” He cuts the shard off Lorkimeht’s axe, puts the shard aside, then lifts the axe. “My old mentor Hunter told me to always cut off their heads, to make sure they don’t come back. You laugh, but I could tell you some stories Hunter told me that’d shut you right up.” With a light chuckle, he brings down the axe and chops off Lorkimeht’s head. [/QUOTE]
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