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The VOIDRUNNER'S CODEX is coming! Explore new worlds, fight oppressive empires, fend off fearsome aliens, and wield deadly psionics with this comprehensive boxed set expansion for 5E and A5E!
Wizardru's Story Hour (updated 11/21)
- Thread starter Zad
- Start date
- Status
WizarDru
Adventurer
Thanks on both counts. Puppet Angel may be one of the funniest things EVAR, to me.wolff96 said:
Only Argent can tell you his reaction, honestly...but I think it's safe to say that when he got a good look at the job, he really didn't want it. Bolo was definitely in it for the same reason that Marcus was...he didn't want the crazies to win.
This was a really interestesting set of sessions from a DM standpoint, although a lot of factors contributed to my not getting all of the material as polished as I would have liked. Big Kudos go to Valanthe and Aethramyr for making do without printed character sheets and only vague descriptions of their talents. It was interesting experiment, and there were some other things I considered doing, but didn't actually go forward with for a variety of reasons (such as the scavenger hunt, which sounded good on paper, but would have been a bad choice in-game, I realized).
If folks are interested, I can blather on about the behind-the-scenes stuff. At least, I can once I get home...'cuz my workday is over.
Argent Silvermage
First Post
I could have gone either way. Having Bolo be the leader of anything is a risky prospect. His intentions would always be for "good" and not all druids are good.wolff96 said:
Marcus makes the most sense but don't think you've heard the last of this. I know a certain Faux-Elf that has plans for the Land of the Black Ice.
WizarDru
Adventurer
As promised, here is the first in a series of maps from the game.
This particular map goes back a LOOOONG ways, to the Land of Black Ice, during the party's expedition to liberate the beleagured inhabitants of that far-off and inhospitable place.
Keen observers may not the Volcano, Slave Pens, Isometril Mines, the Creche and X marks the secret cavern hideout of the Owl and her resistance.
The strange scrawlings over the map there are, if in color, a pale green...indicating the mineral vein discussed in the story. Note the crags in which the Owl's HQ was located, and the hot springs at the base of the Volcano where the druid made his home.
This particular map goes back a LOOOONG ways, to the Land of Black Ice, during the party's expedition to liberate the beleagured inhabitants of that far-off and inhospitable place.
Keen observers may not the Volcano, Slave Pens, Isometril Mines, the Creche and X marks the secret cavern hideout of the Owl and her resistance.
The strange scrawlings over the map there are, if in color, a pale green...indicating the mineral vein discussed in the story. Note the crags in which the Owl's HQ was located, and the hot springs at the base of the Volcano where the druid made his home.
WizarDru
Adventurer
Heh. It's a living.Nifft said:A teaser for a teaser.
That's just great.
Long overdue, but here it is, folks: one of the levels of the Lair of the Shadowtaker, specifically the Cistern. This was originally part of the temple of Pelor, before it had been turned into a deathmaze by the Shadowtaker and his get. Enjoy.
WizarDru
Adventurer
The sage consulted the map laid out before her, as she had a dozen times before. Her eyes scanned the browned, decaying parchment, translating the elvish characters into modern elvish, the modern elvish to the common tongue, and finally the common tongue into code. It was incredibly boring work, but her nerves were nevertheless on edge. Yaleth knew the import of their meaning. "What have you found, mistress?"
She continued to scribe, ignoring her charge. The boy was knowledgeable enough, it was true...but he lacked patience. He would learn in time...if time did, in fact, remain to them. The room fell silent, filled only with the continual scrawlings of pen to parchment. The boy, wise enough to know the difference between being ignored and not being heard, remained silent. He remembered some lessons, then. Confident he had been kept waiting long enough, she spoke.
"Something important, young Javril. Something that our allies must know about. Your master gave you into my charge for just such an eventuality. It will fall to you to bring them this news."
"I'm not young, mistress. I'm probably fifty years your senior, I'll bet." The boy's brow furrowed, distorting the symbol embossed there.
"In the passing of seasons, that is true. But among your own kind, you remain young....and so my apprentice you shall stay."
"Is it about my master? ...What you found, I mean?" The boy leaned forward, virtually falling over in the process. The sad hope written on his face was painful to see. He loved his master as a child loves his grandfather. There was no reservation...his love for his master was unconditional. But the longer he was away from him, the more he could turn himd to little else.
"No...I am afraid not," she sighed. "This is a map of the Flanaess, as it was many years past. It is older than us, by far. Few can remember when the world looked thus, save you master and his ilk. See here: there were but four kingdoms in those times...save for the lands held by the Ur-Flan. Look closely. What do you see?"
The boy came closer to regard the scrolls. His eyes scanned them, noting where each Kingdom began and ended. As his hungry eyes devoured the page, she in turn examined him. His hunger for knowledge and his ego prevented him from giving up too quickly, so she let him stare. Eventually, she saw the light flicker in his eyes, and she smiled.
"The Sea of Aerdy! It's not here! Just this place marked 'Arissa'." There was a pause, as he processed the name. He suddenly lot out a loud 'GASP'. "The Four Kingdoms! This is a map of the Four Kingdoms!"
"Indeed it is. And see that black mark....there?" The boy nodded agreement. "This is the place you find the DeathVent. This is where the final push began, and the Fall of Arissa gushed up like black bile, poisioning the very land around it. The living dead rose up from that place."
The boy's eyes went to her face, once more. She pretended not to notice. The Spire business had left her scarred, permanently...and sometimes she still felt the pain. She didn't blame him for being aware of it. But still she hated it's presence. Some of Gelban's finest allies had healed her, but it came back, again and again. She feared what that meant.
"But it's under the ocean, now? How could that happen, mistress?"
"The same way that a fertile land becomes a vast desert, I suppose. Powerful, malignant magic. I suspect the use of the binders. In fact, I suspect one of the great points of contention, perhaps THE point of contention between the elves and the drow, were the disposition of those items. I suspect the Storm Lords had designs of their own for them, while the other elves sought to contain what they had wrought."
The boy nodded, though clearly he didn't see what any of that had to do with more recent events. Chronologically older, he may be, but he was just as impatient as any human apprentice a tenth of his age. He was dedicated, though, and a fine lad, by all accounts. His master always chose his students well. She regarded him fully, patience in her eyes.
"The Deathvent, as it was named, is one of the passages to the Underdark, that horrible expanse that passes beneath the civilized, logical world. It is a place of madness. That the Drow chose it as their home tells much about them. To my knowledge, it remains unsealed, though there they may have been collapses. How deep it goes, I cannot say."
"But what is that to us, mistress? Is it part of the reason my master asked you to watch over me?"
Yaleth swallowed, and tried to think of an answer. The boy would have a hard time understanding the truth, and to tell him would certainly cause him worry, and perhaps far worse. She did know that the boy was far safer here. There was no benefit to tell him that Veluna would, very soon, be a fortress. Like so many places, she was sure. The boy would grasp part of it, but she hoped not all. She left the Brotherhood's tower little these days....ever since the Spire. Without meaning to, she shuddered at a percieved chill, despite the warmth of the room. The old panic entered her thoughts. Where was he? WHERE? Was he hunting her, even now?
"Bring me those sheets, lad. The ones from last night's roc." Javril did as he was asked, bringing her a set of rolled parchments. She bade him open them. "What do you see, boy?"
"The druid Marcus reports increased tidal activity in the Sea of Aerdy," he reported, reading from the first missive. He failed to notice her smirk. That man was no druid. She waved him on. "The Cleric, Prestwyck, reports that the Sea Barons have been mobilizing ships, although his agents do not know why or what their destination is. He suspects the Brotherhood is involved....is he daft, mistress? Of course we are!"
"No, Javril...the other Brotherhood."
"Oh."
"Continue, if you please."
"There's something from a woman named Gota? Is this scratch what passes for writing in Greyhawk? She says that the Cambion is gone...and she doesn't know how long. What does that mean?"
"It means that we're in a great deal of trouble."
“What do you mean, mistress?”
“Nothing, boy, I’m just tired,” she said, rubbing her temples. By her oath, she was tired. She wasn’t normally this easily distracted. Her face ached, but she ignored it. “Continue.”
“Well…,” the boy began hesitantly. He was somewhat unnerved by the new and her reaction, she supposed. “This agent in Veluna says that no ship are allowed in or out, except the sea elves. This note is little more than a scrawl…a dwarven scrawl, I might add, saying that the mines appear to be safe, for now. And this note claims that the ruins have been inspected, and other than a few rogue apes…? Err…other than a few rogue..apes…there has been no sign that the dragons didn’t do a thorough job. A job of what, mistress?”
“Of cleaning up a particular unpleasant mess, which is why it concerns us. For hundreds of years, that’s all we’ve dedicated ourselves to doing.”
“Will I, mistress?”
“It is unusual, but not unheard of, Javril. Our order was founded to prevent the recurrence of what happened before. We were born out of the ashes of the Sea of Dust, burdened with survivor’s guilt. When we locked away the binders, the two surviving kingdoms locked themselves away, leaving us only this tower as a reminder of our task. Few elves have ever joined our ranks, for we are a painful reminder of the past that many would sooner forget. It is the rare member of your kind who finds common cause with us, any longer.”
Her scars felt inflamed, again. A pain like a toothache shot through her skull, from her eyes to her jaw. She nearly fell over from the sudden rush of pain, but regained herself. The boy was beyond concerned, from the look on his face, and actively worried. It couldn’t be, could it? The tower couldn’t be breached, could it? Could she take that chance?
Her eyes ripped around the room…the time for subtlety was past. She grabbed a sack sitting on her chair and reached into. Drawing forth a Iit torch, clearly to the boy’s surprise, she shoved it in his free hand. She drew forth another object, and tossed it to Javril. The boy caught the curious book by surprise, large but light to carry. It was all he could do to clasp the papers he already had and the book to his chest, while keeping the torch away from them.
“BIND!” she yelled, and the papers began disappearing, magically sucked into the book. Smartest thing she’d ever devised, that. “Head to the circle room and don’t stop!Do you understand, Javril? Head to the circle room, and go! Try a less populous city for a start. Your trip begins NOW. ”
The boy nodded mutely. He had been preparing for travel, but in a day’s time, not now. Luckily, he had already prepared a travel kit. Confused but cowed, he quickly donned his prized haversack, loaded with many unneeded things. She vacillated between hurrying him and worrying him, fidgeting nervously. As he placed the book in his pack, she checked the hallways. No sign of anyone. That was unusual, and only served to make her more nervous. She turned and saw the boy was finished, and she ushered him out the door into the wide, curving corridor. As an afterthought, she grabbed the bag she had produced the everlasting torch from.
There were doors and stairwells curving away in either direction, a testimony to the labyrinthine nature of the SilentTower. She pointed the boy to the stairwell, and told him to make quickly for the circle room. It should be safe enough, yet, she was certain. Javril stopped at the top of the nearest stairwell leading to the student’s halls below, concern upon his face.
“What is it, boy? Go now, it’s time to leave!” she ordered, exasperated.
“There’s a fire in your workshop, mistress…we can’t just leave it! ”
Icy talons clutched at her heart. Her head snapped around to regard her crafting room, with its magical research projects left strewn about. The window was open! She was a fool. What the boy had thought was smoke was a mist, seeping in from the outside. Yaleth heard an unearthly laugh emanate from it, and nearly fainted. HE WAS HERE.
“RUN! RUN, NOW!” she commanded. “Let no one stop you! GO!”
She didn’t wait to see if the boy obeyed. She kept a spell memorized for such an occasion: the most powerful she knew. “Burn, damn you.” It unleashed in the room, and the resulting explosion knocked her backwards off of her feet. Amidst the acrid stench of burnt chemicals, she could see little. It was a wonder she wasn’t hurt badly. That wouldn’t do much against HIM, though. She had bought enough time to run.
She ran.
The boy had listened, and was well ahead of her. In her mind she heard HIS voice.
“Where are you going, my wife? Where is the kiss for your lord and master?” If he could speak in her mind, then her wards were useless against him. He had become, if possible, more powerful. He heard his voice in her mind, and her imagination gave it a mocking tone. She remembered his voice all too well…and his ‘kiss’.
“You’re not my lover and I serve no master. Go back to your grave, fiend.” She felt strangely calm, all of a sudden. All the time dreading his return, and now she was free of it. He was here. Now she had other things to fear.
Almost absent-mindedly, she realized that she and the boy had reached the room with her teleport circle. She immediately realized their mistake. They should have used the public transport room, not her private teleport circle. They had known she would come here. The boy was frozen in place, staring at the assembled shadowy figures that blocked their path. Some were students of hers…are they had been when they were still alive. Fresh spawn, now. How long had he been here?
She reached to her belt and fumbled for the rod that was there. She focused her energy through it and unleashed two fireballs at the mockeries of her pupils. They cowered and ran from the fiery bursts. She shoved Javril forward.
“Use the Circle, Boy! GO!”
“But what about you, mistress? You will die here if you don’t come!” The boy was near to tears. Fifty years her elder, indeed. He had never walked into darkness, before…not like this.
“I won’t die here today, ghlaseth! NOW, GO!” she yelled, emphasizing her position with the Draconic term for student. The boy ran, uttered the word and teleported instantly. She hoped that he would be safe, and would reach the kobold in time. But she needed to deactivate the circle, or they would just follow them. Her mind raced. A desperate plan formed, but it had the potential to be suicidal. Very unlike her, really. She felt for the hole in her pocket, and was glad when she found it still there.
“Dear, sweet WIFE. You STAYED,” came the voice. The spawn had returned, keeping their distance. Partly for fear of her, and partly for fear of their master. He was engulfed in shadow, and his profile was different, somehow…but his eyes still burned like fire from the shadows. His presence still frightened her…but she had a task before her. She wouldn’t be weak. Not again.
“I stayed for you, actually,” she said, trying to sound confident. She waited, as he walked closer. His swagger was hypnotic, his eyes moreso. She could feel his desire, his lust for her. For all living things. It sickened her that she, in some small kind, could not help but feel attracted to him. Such was his power.
“Oh, so? What do you hope to do, then? Cast an Ice Storm upon me? Polymorph me, perhaps? You will find I am even less inclined to accept your arcane meanderings than even before. Feel free to destroy your children, if it so please you.” He gestured at the spawn, as if to emphasize their former lives and mock her. She did not care, as long as he strode forward. And he did. Just a few more steps….
“No, I don’t think so. I can’t hurt you. You’re too strong…we both know that. I would have to be insane to think I could stop you.”
“Surely you don’t surrender so, easily? I am disappointed, of course. You are right, but I am disappointed.”
“Luckily, I wasn’t planning on stopping you.” she said. She couldn’t stop him…but she hadn’t been lying about the insanity. Before he could stop her, she reached in her pocket and produced…the hole. She held the small black circle aloft, as if it were a weapon. The vampire spawn, which had been about to surge forth at her, stopped in their tracks. Gulthias began to laugh.
“Ahah hah hah hah! Oh, now I AM disappointed, dear wife. What will you do, capture me and hope I suffocate?”
“No...I just need to tidy up a bit. SAY GOODBYE, GULTHIAS!” she suddenly screamed, and threw the hole into the bag. The vampire lord stopped laughing, at first confused as to what she had done, and then horrified when he understood. He yelled something, then, but she couldn’t make it out over the sudden rip in the material world. She saw the world slow down, as if time had stopped. Gulthias was trying to turn, to run away….but he would never make it in time. The rift had him.
As she felt her body pulled into the hole, she lamented skipping breakfast. There wasn’t going to be much by way of food where they were going.
And then they were gone.
The SSOM game resumes later this week, with the beginning of “Down Among the Dead Men”. Time to kick some undead in the Junk.
She continued to scribe, ignoring her charge. The boy was knowledgeable enough, it was true...but he lacked patience. He would learn in time...if time did, in fact, remain to them. The room fell silent, filled only with the continual scrawlings of pen to parchment. The boy, wise enough to know the difference between being ignored and not being heard, remained silent. He remembered some lessons, then. Confident he had been kept waiting long enough, she spoke.
"Something important, young Javril. Something that our allies must know about. Your master gave you into my charge for just such an eventuality. It will fall to you to bring them this news."
"I'm not young, mistress. I'm probably fifty years your senior, I'll bet." The boy's brow furrowed, distorting the symbol embossed there.
"In the passing of seasons, that is true. But among your own kind, you remain young....and so my apprentice you shall stay."
"Is it about my master? ...What you found, I mean?" The boy leaned forward, virtually falling over in the process. The sad hope written on his face was painful to see. He loved his master as a child loves his grandfather. There was no reservation...his love for his master was unconditional. But the longer he was away from him, the more he could turn himd to little else.
"No...I am afraid not," she sighed. "This is a map of the Flanaess, as it was many years past. It is older than us, by far. Few can remember when the world looked thus, save you master and his ilk. See here: there were but four kingdoms in those times...save for the lands held by the Ur-Flan. Look closely. What do you see?"
The boy came closer to regard the scrolls. His eyes scanned them, noting where each Kingdom began and ended. As his hungry eyes devoured the page, she in turn examined him. His hunger for knowledge and his ego prevented him from giving up too quickly, so she let him stare. Eventually, she saw the light flicker in his eyes, and she smiled.
"The Sea of Aerdy! It's not here! Just this place marked 'Arissa'." There was a pause, as he processed the name. He suddenly lot out a loud 'GASP'. "The Four Kingdoms! This is a map of the Four Kingdoms!"
"Indeed it is. And see that black mark....there?" The boy nodded agreement. "This is the place you find the DeathVent. This is where the final push began, and the Fall of Arissa gushed up like black bile, poisioning the very land around it. The living dead rose up from that place."
The boy's eyes went to her face, once more. She pretended not to notice. The Spire business had left her scarred, permanently...and sometimes she still felt the pain. She didn't blame him for being aware of it. But still she hated it's presence. Some of Gelban's finest allies had healed her, but it came back, again and again. She feared what that meant.
"But it's under the ocean, now? How could that happen, mistress?"
"The same way that a fertile land becomes a vast desert, I suppose. Powerful, malignant magic. I suspect the use of the binders. In fact, I suspect one of the great points of contention, perhaps THE point of contention between the elves and the drow, were the disposition of those items. I suspect the Storm Lords had designs of their own for them, while the other elves sought to contain what they had wrought."
The boy nodded, though clearly he didn't see what any of that had to do with more recent events. Chronologically older, he may be, but he was just as impatient as any human apprentice a tenth of his age. He was dedicated, though, and a fine lad, by all accounts. His master always chose his students well. She regarded him fully, patience in her eyes.
"The Deathvent, as it was named, is one of the passages to the Underdark, that horrible expanse that passes beneath the civilized, logical world. It is a place of madness. That the Drow chose it as their home tells much about them. To my knowledge, it remains unsealed, though there they may have been collapses. How deep it goes, I cannot say."
"But what is that to us, mistress? Is it part of the reason my master asked you to watch over me?"
Yaleth swallowed, and tried to think of an answer. The boy would have a hard time understanding the truth, and to tell him would certainly cause him worry, and perhaps far worse. She did know that the boy was far safer here. There was no benefit to tell him that Veluna would, very soon, be a fortress. Like so many places, she was sure. The boy would grasp part of it, but she hoped not all. She left the Brotherhood's tower little these days....ever since the Spire. Without meaning to, she shuddered at a percieved chill, despite the warmth of the room. The old panic entered her thoughts. Where was he? WHERE? Was he hunting her, even now?
[calm]
[.calm.]
[..calm..]
[...find the center...]
She hadn't realized that she'd squeezed her eyes shut until she now relaxed and opened them. Javril stared at her, curiously. He was not truly used to humans, yet. He would have recognized the rituals of purity, but she had learned from a different master, and the earth was not her element. She was not so marked, nor was the one who taught her. It might a long time before she earned her mark of Air...if ever. Absently, she noticed Javril was still waiting for a reply.
"Bring me those sheets, lad. The ones from last night's roc." Javril did as he was asked, bringing her a set of rolled parchments. She bade him open them. "What do you see, boy?"
"The druid Marcus reports increased tidal activity in the Sea of Aerdy," he reported, reading from the first missive. He failed to notice her smirk. That man was no druid. She waved him on. "The Cleric, Prestwyck, reports that the Sea Barons have been mobilizing ships, although his agents do not know why or what their destination is. He suspects the Brotherhood is involved....is he daft, mistress? Of course we are!"
"No, Javril...the other Brotherhood."
"Oh."
"Continue, if you please."
"There's something from a woman named Gota? Is this scratch what passes for writing in Greyhawk? She says that the Cambion is gone...and she doesn't know how long. What does that mean?"
"It means that we're in a great deal of trouble."
“What do you mean, mistress?”
“Nothing, boy, I’m just tired,” she said, rubbing her temples. By her oath, she was tired. She wasn’t normally this easily distracted. Her face ached, but she ignored it. “Continue.”
“Well…,” the boy began hesitantly. He was somewhat unnerved by the new and her reaction, she supposed. “This agent in Veluna says that no ship are allowed in or out, except the sea elves. This note is little more than a scrawl…a dwarven scrawl, I might add, saying that the mines appear to be safe, for now. And this note claims that the ruins have been inspected, and other than a few rogue apes…? Err…other than a few rogue..apes…there has been no sign that the dragons didn’t do a thorough job. A job of what, mistress?”
“Of cleaning up a particular unpleasant mess, which is why it concerns us. For hundreds of years, that’s all we’ve dedicated ourselves to doing.”
“Will I, mistress?”
“It is unusual, but not unheard of, Javril. Our order was founded to prevent the recurrence of what happened before. We were born out of the ashes of the Sea of Dust, burdened with survivor’s guilt. When we locked away the binders, the two surviving kingdoms locked themselves away, leaving us only this tower as a reminder of our task. Few elves have ever joined our ranks, for we are a painful reminder of the past that many would sooner forget. It is the rare member of your kind who finds common cause with us, any longer.”
Her scars felt inflamed, again. A pain like a toothache shot through her skull, from her eyes to her jaw. She nearly fell over from the sudden rush of pain, but regained herself. The boy was beyond concerned, from the look on his face, and actively worried. It couldn’t be, could it? The tower couldn’t be breached, could it? Could she take that chance?
Her eyes ripped around the room…the time for subtlety was past. She grabbed a sack sitting on her chair and reached into. Drawing forth a Iit torch, clearly to the boy’s surprise, she shoved it in his free hand. She drew forth another object, and tossed it to Javril. The boy caught the curious book by surprise, large but light to carry. It was all he could do to clasp the papers he already had and the book to his chest, while keeping the torch away from them.
“BIND!” she yelled, and the papers began disappearing, magically sucked into the book. Smartest thing she’d ever devised, that. “Head to the circle room and don’t stop!Do you understand, Javril? Head to the circle room, and go! Try a less populous city for a start. Your trip begins NOW. ”
The boy nodded mutely. He had been preparing for travel, but in a day’s time, not now. Luckily, he had already prepared a travel kit. Confused but cowed, he quickly donned his prized haversack, loaded with many unneeded things. She vacillated between hurrying him and worrying him, fidgeting nervously. As he placed the book in his pack, she checked the hallways. No sign of anyone. That was unusual, and only served to make her more nervous. She turned and saw the boy was finished, and she ushered him out the door into the wide, curving corridor. As an afterthought, she grabbed the bag she had produced the everlasting torch from.
There were doors and stairwells curving away in either direction, a testimony to the labyrinthine nature of the SilentTower. She pointed the boy to the stairwell, and told him to make quickly for the circle room. It should be safe enough, yet, she was certain. Javril stopped at the top of the nearest stairwell leading to the student’s halls below, concern upon his face.
“What is it, boy? Go now, it’s time to leave!” she ordered, exasperated.
“There’s a fire in your workshop, mistress…we can’t just leave it! ”
Icy talons clutched at her heart. Her head snapped around to regard her crafting room, with its magical research projects left strewn about. The window was open! She was a fool. What the boy had thought was smoke was a mist, seeping in from the outside. Yaleth heard an unearthly laugh emanate from it, and nearly fainted. HE WAS HERE.
“RUN! RUN, NOW!” she commanded. “Let no one stop you! GO!”
She didn’t wait to see if the boy obeyed. She kept a spell memorized for such an occasion: the most powerful she knew. “Burn, damn you.” It unleashed in the room, and the resulting explosion knocked her backwards off of her feet. Amidst the acrid stench of burnt chemicals, she could see little. It was a wonder she wasn’t hurt badly. That wouldn’t do much against HIM, though. She had bought enough time to run.
She ran.
The boy had listened, and was well ahead of her. In her mind she heard HIS voice.
“Where are you going, my wife? Where is the kiss for your lord and master?” If he could speak in her mind, then her wards were useless against him. He had become, if possible, more powerful. He heard his voice in her mind, and her imagination gave it a mocking tone. She remembered his voice all too well…and his ‘kiss’.
“You’re not my lover and I serve no master. Go back to your grave, fiend.” She felt strangely calm, all of a sudden. All the time dreading his return, and now she was free of it. He was here. Now she had other things to fear.
Almost absent-mindedly, she realized that she and the boy had reached the room with her teleport circle. She immediately realized their mistake. They should have used the public transport room, not her private teleport circle. They had known she would come here. The boy was frozen in place, staring at the assembled shadowy figures that blocked their path. Some were students of hers…are they had been when they were still alive. Fresh spawn, now. How long had he been here?
She reached to her belt and fumbled for the rod that was there. She focused her energy through it and unleashed two fireballs at the mockeries of her pupils. They cowered and ran from the fiery bursts. She shoved Javril forward.
“Use the Circle, Boy! GO!”
“But what about you, mistress? You will die here if you don’t come!” The boy was near to tears. Fifty years her elder, indeed. He had never walked into darkness, before…not like this.
“I won’t die here today, ghlaseth! NOW, GO!” she yelled, emphasizing her position with the Draconic term for student. The boy ran, uttered the word and teleported instantly. She hoped that he would be safe, and would reach the kobold in time. But she needed to deactivate the circle, or they would just follow them. Her mind raced. A desperate plan formed, but it had the potential to be suicidal. Very unlike her, really. She felt for the hole in her pocket, and was glad when she found it still there.
“Dear, sweet WIFE. You STAYED,” came the voice. The spawn had returned, keeping their distance. Partly for fear of her, and partly for fear of their master. He was engulfed in shadow, and his profile was different, somehow…but his eyes still burned like fire from the shadows. His presence still frightened her…but she had a task before her. She wouldn’t be weak. Not again.
“I stayed for you, actually,” she said, trying to sound confident. She waited, as he walked closer. His swagger was hypnotic, his eyes moreso. She could feel his desire, his lust for her. For all living things. It sickened her that she, in some small kind, could not help but feel attracted to him. Such was his power.
“Oh, so? What do you hope to do, then? Cast an Ice Storm upon me? Polymorph me, perhaps? You will find I am even less inclined to accept your arcane meanderings than even before. Feel free to destroy your children, if it so please you.” He gestured at the spawn, as if to emphasize their former lives and mock her. She did not care, as long as he strode forward. And he did. Just a few more steps….
“No, I don’t think so. I can’t hurt you. You’re too strong…we both know that. I would have to be insane to think I could stop you.”
“Surely you don’t surrender so, easily? I am disappointed, of course. You are right, but I am disappointed.”
“Luckily, I wasn’t planning on stopping you.” she said. She couldn’t stop him…but she hadn’t been lying about the insanity. Before he could stop her, she reached in her pocket and produced…the hole. She held the small black circle aloft, as if it were a weapon. The vampire spawn, which had been about to surge forth at her, stopped in their tracks. Gulthias began to laugh.
“Ahah hah hah hah! Oh, now I AM disappointed, dear wife. What will you do, capture me and hope I suffocate?”
“No...I just need to tidy up a bit. SAY GOODBYE, GULTHIAS!” she suddenly screamed, and threw the hole into the bag. The vampire lord stopped laughing, at first confused as to what she had done, and then horrified when he understood. He yelled something, then, but she couldn’t make it out over the sudden rip in the material world. She saw the world slow down, as if time had stopped. Gulthias was trying to turn, to run away….but he would never make it in time. The rift had him.
As she felt her body pulled into the hole, she lamented skipping breakfast. There wasn’t going to be much by way of food where they were going.
And then they were gone.
The SSOM game resumes later this week, with the beginning of “Down Among the Dead Men”. Time to kick some undead in the Junk.
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WizarDru
Adventurer
It's a new feat in the Eberron setting.Len said:I thought undead were immune to junk-kicking.
Kick Undead Junk [Meepite]
You can lay down the smack on arrogant undead.
Prereq: You've been ticked off by the legions of undeath once too often.
Special: Any time you normally would just lay down the smack, you can now bitch-slap the undead and call them Sally.
Normal: Undead don't have junk which you can kick, and normally don't answer to the name "Sally".
pogre
Legend
Enjoyed seeing the picture of you guys in action. You all look like a fun, friendly bunch. I really like that game room. You know, the one thing that surprised me a bit was all of the laptops cooking on the table. You need to clear those to make way for Scorch's scenery Seriously, I assume they are to speed up epic play - how do they help? What are you running on them?
I'm sure Zad is keeping notes to update this work
Seriously, I assume they are to speed up epic play - how do they help? What are you running on them?I'm sure Zad is keeping notes to update this work
dravot
First Post
When we're not playing the alpha campaign, usually the only one with a laptop is the one taking game notes. It's definitely an alpha characteristic.
In my case, I'm running Dravot and two cohorts (Zira and Thorkeld), and there are too many pieces of paper to constantly track what's going on.
The other thing is with enough buffs running it's just plain easier to track those buffs (and their bonus types) using the laptop.
In my case, I'm running Dravot and two cohorts (Zira and Thorkeld), and there are too many pieces of paper to constantly track what's going on.
The other thing is with enough buffs running it's just plain easier to track those buffs (and their bonus types) using the laptop.
- Status
