Wraith's Whispers - CoSQ (Update: 4/5/04)

[Wraithdrit]

Your story continuous to be great Wraithdrit.Does Plickit only use Chatkchas?I guess he went the archery path of Ranger.
A shame,since I was looking forward to seeing him multi-wielding two Gythkas.

Actually he went two weapon fighting, which applies to thrown weapons as well. Err, multiweapon actually, I allowed direct substitution given the arms and all. As for melee, well he does not have the con or the str to stand up to much in his opinion, so he is looking at picking up Finesse at some point and putting a bunch of shortswords to work. I too want to see him use Gythkas, but so far he has not seemed interested in them at all.

About Tanerus,is he slowly aquiring the shadow walker template,or is it another way to introduce Shadowdancer levels?I guess he is not becoming shade,so it must be one of the other two.

I do not do prestige classes lightly, so when he told me he wanted to go Shadowdancer I worked it into the plot. I see no reason a normal thief, err rogue, could just get these supernatural powers, so I worked it into the plot.

I'm not at work today, so don't expect to do an update. So look for one Wednesday (as Monday is also a holiday), or maybe Tuesday if the writing bug catches up to me.

Now if I would only hear back about the Maiden of Pain...

 

[Wraithdrit]

Mytrym was the first to follow Delorian into the sloping shaft that led further into the Underdark. Amador had stopped long enough to revive Tanerus and the group had quickly followed after the monk. It did not take them long to find the crumpled form of the sentry that Delorian had been chasing. The drow was obviously dead, and Mytrym moved forward quietly to try and find where Delorian had gone.

The natural corridor ended in a soled flat granite wall, obviously man made. In front of the wall was another large shaft. Before the shaft a large iron ring was set into the stone.

Tanerus examined the ring and nodded back at the others as he found a good place to hide.

Not trapped, Mytrym heard the halfling say to him telepathically. Mytrym nodded and looked back as Naria put a hand on his shoulder. She talked in a low voice, "I can cast a spell to see down there, but my darkvision will do no good." She handed him the arrow with the light spell cast on it. The paladin nodded and as Naria cast he dropped the arrow down the shaft.

As the light flashed for a moment Mytrym saw Delorian crouched beside the shaft. The monk was pulling aside his blanket of shadow for a moment, just long enough so that the others would see him and know he was still with them. Mytrym nodded to the monk and turned to await word from Naria.

It was Tanerus' voice that brought the news. He reported to each of the members in turn, using his telepathy, "Naria says that there are three drow, a spider, and... a skinned drow."

Mytrym thought back quickly, "Skinned? What do you mean?"

Tanerus shrugged and looked to Naria a moment. "Skinned. Lacking skin. Probably some sort of undead."

Mytrym frowned and pulled out a pair of potions. He quickly guzzled one after the other. He also heard the soft voice of Naria's spellcasting behind him. Her hand laid upon his shoulder again, this time, sending energy into his muscles, reducing some of the soreness and fatigue that they contained. He felt invigorated, like he could fight for hours. The haste potion sped his perceptions, and he felt his movements quicken. One last spell of his own, to ward against evil, and the paladin moved to the edge. He looked to Naria and nodded.

The mage stepped up, whispered a few soft words and threw her hands toward the shaft. A pea shaped ball of fire slipped from between her hands, tumbled down the shaft and blossemed into a massive fireball. Below, screams of suprise and outrage sounded.

Mytrym wasted no time. He lept from the edge, plunging toward the light arrow twenty feet below. The fly potion worked well and he swooped down and banked hard toward the waiting barricade.

The drow seemed to be waiting, but were caught a bit off guard by the flying paladin. His sword was already arcing toward the disgusting visage of the skinned drow. The horror was exactly what Naria had described. It looked as if a drow had every bit of flesh and fat removed from its body, leaving behind the oozing bloody muscle and cartilage. Whatever it was, it would soon feel the bite of his blade. The blade came to life as he swung it, muttering to his goddess to strength his strike. Light flashed as his prayer was answered and the blade slammed into the abomination before him. The blade cut deep, but the creature seemed to not even notice. Already its clawed hands were clawing at his armor.

Behind the abomination, behind a large barrier of a table and chairs that had obviously been recently turned over for defense, stood three drow. The spider that Naria had seen was dead by the fireball. Two were dressed just like the sentries, they had already, faced. The last wore only a tabard. As Mytrym flew in, this drow lifted his hands and cast a quick arcane spell. Each of Mytrym's enchantments were torn at by the power of the drow's dispel, but amazingly most of them withstood the attempt and destruction. Of all the preperation spells cast upon him, only his protection from evil spell fell under the dispel's assault.

The disgusting skinned drow finally found purchase with her claws, raking between two plates of Mytrym's armor. The claws bit deep, but the acid dripping from them added insult to injury, burning even after the claws were torn loose when Mytrym slammed his shield into the creature, knocking her back. Mytrym could tell by the creature's high pitched howls that in life this thing had been female.

Delorian and Tanerus both lept down the shaft. The monk was hidden in shadow, and the halfling pulled shadows around him upon landing. Mytrym still seemed alone.

One of the sentries moved to edge of the barrier and lifted a large polearm. He stabbed over the shoulder of the creature trying to get at Mytrym, but his blows were ineffective against the paladin's armor.

The second sentry moved to the back of the room. Where a wall should have been lay a massive chasm. The sentry moved to the chasm edge and called down into the darkness the same word, several times. Those in the party that spoke elven, easily understood the word. "Alert!"

Plickit dropped in next, moving to one side to hide from the site of the spellguard. All four arms pulled chatkas from his bandoleers. He edged toward the corner, waiting for the right moment.

Mytrym shoved the nasty bleeding thing from atop of him with his shield. He thrust his sword out at the thing and called upon his goddess, "By the Eilistraee, be gone abomination!" The thing spat its disgust at him. Literally. It pull its head back and spat forth a nasty ball of acid. Mytrym managed to shift to the side, and the glob splashed behind him.

Tanerus was waiting for an opening when the glob of acid slammed into his flank. It burned a nasty hole through him. He cried out and threw back his cloak just as a storm of ice exploded in the area. Behind the barrier, the spellguard lowered his hands and chuckled as his ice storm pummelled the small party in front of him.

Above, Naria saw the ice storm and quickly muttered a few syllables. The storm dissappeared quickly. The damage the ice had caused would not go away, but at least by dispelling the storm she allowed Amador to leap down into the shaft.

The priest landed and came up swiftly. His holy symbol was out and he yelled at the bloody ex-drow. "Be gone hellspawn!" The creature was thrown back by the power of the priest's will. It stumbled back and hissed at him from the other side of Mytrym. The paladin pressed the advantage and hacked into the beast again.

Delorian was still unseen by the enemy. He flipped easily over the barrier and spun around behind the spellguard. His fist lashed out at the back of the spellguard's head. Flames ripped up around his hand as he connected, but his natural resistance to magic spared him harm. The blow managed to make the spellguard stumble, but it was obvious it had not hurt him at all. The drow's skin was as hard as rock, obviously he had serious protection magics up.

When Plickit heard the spellguard get attacked he knew his moment was at hand. He spun the corner and all four arms flipped chatkas quickly at the mage. Eight throwing wedges slammed into the drow. His body jerked back and forth, each wedge barely cutting through his enchantments. If it had been one or two, the mage would have barely felt it. But a little bit of damage from eight different attacks was enough to stagger him. He turned and fled toward the chasm, throwing himself over the side.

Delorian turned to give chase, but the sentries were on him, their weapons lashing out at the monk.

Mytrym took a step or two after the fleeing undead, until he saw that there were still combatants up on the landing. He turned on the drow that had stopped Delorian in his tracks and the two heroes quickly cut down the pair of sentries.

Together Delorian and Mytrym moved to the edge of the chasm. Though the undead drow was no where to be seen, they could see the spellguard some forty feet below, dangling from a massive web. The two heroes nodded to each other and leapt over the edge of the chasm!

 

[Wraithdrit]

Common Area
Halls of Tethyamar
Marpenoth 4th, 1372, Just before dusk

Will checked the straps on his pack. Everything was in place. He turned and looked over at Serin. “You ready?”

The archer paled a little and gulped. “You know I hate teleportation.” She walked closer. “I wish you had never told me that it could go wrong. I liked being blissfully ignorant.”

Will grinned, “If you did not know how dangerous it was, you wouldn’t get nearly the rush you do out of it. Admit it, you like teleporting, its just the sort of risk you like to take.”

She smacked him in the chest with the back of her hand. “No! Fighting orcs is the sort of risk I like to take. Being melded into solid stone because you can’t remember what your home looks like, that’s madness. Why did I agree to come with you again?”

“Because you miss your family as much as I do?”

“It’s only been a few days.” She crossed her arms in defiance.

“A few days living in these halls with only me and the dwarves for company,” Will corrected.

It was Serin’s turn to grin, “The dwarves aren’t so bad…” She laughed at the mock look of anger that Will flashed at her. When his incantation started though, she frowned and grabbed a hold of his belt as he had instructed her.

The world turned inside out. That or the two friends teleporting back to Dagger Falls did. Either way the result was the same. They popped into existence in Will’s home. Will merely blinked a few moments till he got his bearings.

Serin crumpled to the floor and puked.

Courtyard of the 12th Legion Barracks
Zhentil Keep
Marpenoth 4th, 1372, Dusk

Alethra stalked back and forth, the Banesword gripped in her hand. As she strode along she spun the magical blade in her hand, letting it spin several times before tightening her grip again. The force in front of her was starting to form up nicely. She stopped in front of a huge brutish ogre wearing a massive suit of chainmail.

“Terog. You know the plan?” The priestess’ gaze burned into the ogre. Even though the monster was twice her height and many times her weight, it cowered beneath her gaze.

“Aye, muh’lady.” It pulled its helmet tighter in place and made sure it had a good grip on its battle axe.

Alethra nodded quickly and turned to look at the rest of the force. Seeing that most everything was in order she barked an order to the small group of mages gathered at one end of the courtyard. “Lets get on with it!”

The mages jumped to motion and began moving down the line. Each had a wand in its hand. Soon the courtyard appeared empty, but the sounds of shifting warriors and the murmur of the men was enough to make it obvious that the courtyard was anything but empty.

Alethra glanced at the force’s commander, “Everything is ready sir.”

Commander Gering Thorn nodded. “Good. Lets get back your temple, Priestess.” He turned to look behind him. “Ready Xilla?” The creature floating behind him turned its large form toward the commander, its main central eye was closed. The rest of its eyestalks looked at the commander.

The beholder seemed to bob up and down as if nodding. “Of course, Commander. Let us proceed.” They both glanced at Alethra.

The priestess nodded and strode toward a scaffold in the center of the center of the courtyard. It was identical to a scaffold in the center of the common area in the Mines of Tethyamar. She took the steps two at a time till she was atop the scaffold. A mage fell into place behind her. As she muttered a short key phrase the mage waved his wand at her and muttered its command word.

As the priestess disappeared from sight a massive blue shimmering disk appeared on both scaffolds.

Commander Gering drew his sword, pointed at the scaffold stairs and yelled, “For the Bane and the Black Network! Charge!” The noise of the troops yelling in unison and racing through the portal was near deafening.

Common Area
Halls of Tethyamar
Marpenoth 4th, 1372, Dusk

The dwarf called Ungul the Ugly was sitting in the common area sipping on a mug of ale. He sighed and stood up as he finished the drink. It had been a long day working in the mines, but it had been a fruitful one.

When the massive blue disk appeared atop the scaffold Ungul gasped and dropped his mug. He turned to yell down the closest hall even as he drew his short sword from his side. He had no armor on, but Ungul never went anywhere without his sword.

“Hey! Get in here! There’s somethin’…” Ten crossbow bolts whipped forth from thin air. Five buried in the dwarf’s back and he fell forward to his knees. His shout became a whisper. “… going on.” He fell forward dead.

Common Area
Halls of Tethyamar
Marpenoth 4th, 1372, Just after dusk

Commander Gering, High Priestess Alethra, and the Beholder Xilla stood in the common area and received report after report from runners. Xilla had made a sweep of several of the chambers when he was needed. Finally the command group met back near the portal.

Xilla dropped a dwarven head to a table top. He had ‘held’ it in the grasp of his telekinetic eye ray. “A present for you Alethra.”

The priestess looked down and frowned. “This is not him.” She poked the head with the tip of her blade. The decapitated form rolled face up and the Crown of Tethyamar clanked to the tabletop. “He was much younger than this one. And where are the halfling, the human, and the elf?”

Gering frowned as he turned away from another runner. “Gone. Nothing but dwarves. We have a few prisoners though… we will know soon enough where these ‘heroes’ have fled to. Don’t worry.”

 

[iwatt]

This is good stuff Wraith. Keep it up.

One question though, when Will's player returns, is his character going to come in with lower levels, or are you gonna bump him up a little?

Also, I mentioned this before, but I'm gonna say it again: I love the personal flavor you put into spells (Banite healing hurts, Teleportation disorients, etsc..). By the way, what effect does the nausea actually have (i.e nauseated for x rounds, unless Fort save Y?), or is this just flavor. I'd go for actual effects in orer to avoid the Scry-teleport=Swat Team breach.

That's all.

 

[Wraithdrit]

This is good stuff Wraith. Keep it up.

*blush* Thanks. Encouragement is ALWAYS welcome. It keeps me... encouraged? Especially after as angry as players get when you throw them a curveball like this one!

One question though, when Will's player returns, is his character going to come in with lower levels, or are you gonna bump him up a little?

Well, I am approaching it as if he was bringing a new character into the game. He will come in equal in level to the lowest level party member. While I do not give XP for missing sessions, bringing a ninth level PC into a group that will (by November) be probably 11th and 12th would be just foolish. So while it will be Will, it will be a 'new' Will (converted to 3.5 and pumped a little in level).

Also, I mentioned this before, but I'm gonna say it again: I love the personal flavor you put into spells (Banite healing hurts, Teleportation disorients, etsc..). By the way, what effect does the nausea actually have (i.e nauseated for x rounds, unless Fort save Y?), or is this just flavor. I'd go for actual effects in orer to avoid the Scry-teleport=Swat Team breach.

Thanks again. Actually most I go pretty by the book when it comes to most rules. The Teleportation sickness thing is just flavor text at this point. It makes good sense though, so might be something I eventually add.

Right now I'm just worried about the party surviving on one hand, and how I am going to stat out the Book of Eternal Flames. We had a way we did it prior to Will leaving, but with the 3.5 Metamagic Rods I may go a different route with it. Still haven't decided.

There is at least one more update between now and Monday (Game night! Woo Hoo!).

Also, I'm considering doing some just straight fiction (FR and some of my own fantasy). Anyone be interested in reading it?

- Wraith

 

[Wraithdrit]

Underdark
South of Dagger Falls and About 200 feet down
Marpenoth 4, 1372, Early Evening

Tanerus bolted to the edge of the chasm and stared down at his companions as they rocketed down the chasm. Mytrym was flying arcing around and through the massive webs at the dangling mage. Delorian seemed to be just free falling.

Delorian lashed out with out hand some ten feet above the spellguard. He snatched the ladder like web and slid down at the spellguard, feet first. Mytrym was faster though, his shining blade arcing through the darkness. He cut deep into the spellguard impaling him into the thick web. Delorians feet smashed down on the mage's head and he went limp under the twin assaults.

From above Tanerus shouted down, "Look out!" Arrows started to whip past the two heroes as they grabbed the mage's form and began to haul him up. Mytrym grabbed the unconscious drow and threw him over one shoulder and began to fly back upward. Delorian glanced to the side where the arrows were coming from. There were a pair of drow, darting onto a ledge, firing and darting back. The shade shook his head and was about to shadow step toward the fools when Tanerus's frantic call got his attention. The monk looked up and gasped when he saw the massive bloated form of a spider crawling along the wall toward the opening.

The thing had to be forty feet across. Its thick hairy legs propelled it along the wall and webbing with ease. Its mandibles snapped the air in front of it, and its fiery eyes glowed with an unnatural light.

Mytrym easily made the ledge and tossed the mages body onto the stone. He spun back to see the spider trying to cut Delorian off from the ledge. The monk pulled up the ladder with unnatural speed, zipping up the ladder. He would easily outpace the spider and make the ledge first.

Amador decided to give him a bit of a hand. Just below and wrapping to beside the monk, in front of the spider, whirling blades materialized and began cutting everything in their path. Delorian grinned and reached for the last of the ladder's rungs.

The blades never slowed the spider. As it burst through, blood running in rivulets from various holes in its carapace it stopped and shudder a bit before spitting a thick glob of webbing. Delorian was helpless, clinging to the ladder and the thick web slapped around around him, pinning him easily to the ladder and wall beyond. He tried to reach for the shadows, but he could not move enough to draw himself into the shadows. He was trapped, and the spider was closing the distance fast.

Tanerus pulled his wand and let loose with a fireball that lit up the cavern. The spider did not even seem to notice. The flames just peeled away from it, licking at the webs around it, but not harming the spider in the slightest. The halfling cursed softly and backpedaled as the spider lurched toward the ledge and Delorian beyond.

The spider started as the flying form of Mytrym flew in front of it. He hacked once and then a second time, not at the spider, but at the webbing holding Delorian to the wall. The spider lurched forward and slammed its mandibles around the paladin. It pierced his armor easily. The paladin shrugged the attack off, wrenching free of the mandibles and cutting at the monk's bounds yet again. Delorian ripped free and shoved up and rolled past the edge of the ledge to the safety of the stone beyond.

Mytrym turned to face the monstrous foe, but flew backwards trying to get out of reach. He landed on the platform and dropped to one knee, hurting badly. Amador slipped in behind the paladin and cast a powerful healing spell as the paladin used his goddess' blessing to heal himself as well. Strong once again he lurched forward at the monstrous spider.

The spider was just to one side of the ledge and down beneath the edge by about five feet. Delorian peered at it a moment, seeming to calculate the distances. Finally he took a few steps then leapt forward, arms in front of him, diving at the spider. At the last moment his arms went to either side, outstretched wide. He tucked his head and rolled in mid air, coming down with both feet hard on the spider's thick hide. His bracers glowed as he reared back and slammed a fist hard into the beast. The carapace cracked beneath his hands and he shoved up off the beast, flipping backwards and landing back atop the ledge, much to the surprise of everyone watching.

Plickit had tried to jump back up the shaft, carrying a rope with him. He lost his footing and came back down into the chamber, cursing in a serious of strange clicks and hums. He joined Tanerus and Naria, backing away from the opening as the massive spider lurched up and snapped forward toward Amador.

Mytrym was not about to let the spider get to the cleric though, he threw himself at the creature hacking at the mandibles with his sword, slamming his shield into one. The spider seemed to take offense at the intrusion on its plans and reared back. As it came toward the paladin its eyes glowed dark and its mandibles seemed to drip with an otherworldly darkness, an evil that was perceptible.

Mytrym stiffened as the mandibles again pierced his armor. This time his form shuddered as the spider seemed to pulse and poison filled the aasimar's veins, overcoming him with its deadly toxin. The paladin cried out and went limp, his sword was too heavy to lift, his armor was too much to bear, and his shield fell to his side, unable to be lifted. The mandibles opened and he dropped to his knees in front of the monster. It reared up its huge form and let out an unearthly howl, preparing to devour its latest victim.

 

[iwatt]

Also, I'm considering doing some just straight fiction (FR and some of my own fantasy). Anyone be interested in reading it?

- Wraith

Me, Me, Me

 

[sparhawk]

*

Also, I'm considering doing some just straight fiction (FR and some of my own fantasy). Anyone be interested in reading it?

- Wraith

I would be interested in reading more of your work.

 

[Wraithdrit]

Plickit backpedaled further from the massive spider and threw one of his throwing wedges at the thing. It impeded deep into the hide of the spider, but then wrenched free and flipped back to the thri-kreen’s hand.

Barely able to move, Mytrym lashed out at the spider. He was barely able to swing his large sword, and the effort it took just to swing it made the resulting attack useless. The spider reared back as if to strike again, but before it could Delorian leapt forward and into the air. He spun and lashed out with a kick right into one of the joints of the spider’s legs. As if howling in pain, the spider let out a screech of some sort and began to back down into the massive webbing.

Tanerus rushed forward to the edge of the ledge and point one of the wands he had at the thing. Nothing happened. The halfling cursed at the useless length of bone, “Work damn it!”

“We can’t let it get away,” muttered Delorian. He leapt over the edge once again. This time when he landed on the spider, he grabbed a hold and began repeatedly pounding on the thing’s back.

The creature slipped through thicker strands of webbing, trying to catch Delorian on one particularly thick tangle. The monk was not about to stay around and get stuck again, so he pulled a shadow over him and stepped through, reappearing back on the ledge.

His arms raised Amador called forth the power of his god and sent a column of fire erupting through the monstrous creature. Though the flames did not seem to hurt creature, something about the holy energy involved seemed to tear at the very fabric that held the beast together.

Tanerus studied the spider from the ledge, squinting to try and see if it was still moving. He shrugged, “Can’t hurt to make sure.” Again he pointed the wand at the thing, as he had learned to do. Again nothing happened.

Naria smirked and quipped, “Perhaps you are holding the wrong end.”

Also wanting to make sure the thing was dead, Plickit tossed his returning chatka at the thing once more. Again the wedge thunked into the thing. It certainly seemed dead now, it wasn’t moving at all.

Amador quickly knelt to try and help Mytrym stand. After the paladin was on his feat, the cleric muttered a soft prayer, sending healing energy coursing through the aasimar.

Mytrym growled, “We should back off.” Amador nodded and started leading Mytrym towards the shaft leading up out of the room. Plickit was there first, and he sprung up the shaft and grabbed the edge. He hauled himself up and tied his rope onto the ring and tossed it down to the rest of the group.

As they began hauling people up, Delorian voiced a concern, “If we flee from this ledge, we will have to retake it, something I think would be very difficult.”

Tanerus shook his head, “So would keeping Mytrym alive if he was attacked here. We need to at least have him and the others up top, you, Plickit and I can hide here and try to keep the drow at bay.”

Plickit nodded and the three found places to hide along the ledge, but still looking down into the darkness.

Up top, the others tried to get comfortable. Unfortunately they would not even be allowed to get to sleep before they were disturbed.

Will’s Apartment
Dagger Falls
Marpenoth 4th, Late Evening

Will smiled over at Serin, “Ready to get back?”

The archer grinned and wrinkled her nose. “Do we have to go back so soon, we did just get here.”

Will smirked, “I wish we could stay longer, but I did accept the position as Chancellor, Gregor is pretty lost without me.”

Serin sighed and shrugged, “I guess we have no choice then. I do so hate this…” She grabbed a hold of Will’s belt and closed her eyes tight. “Maybe if I don’t look it won’t make me as sick…”

Will never answered, his voice was low as he muttered the incantation to the teleportation spell. The world shifted around the pair, then shimmered and came back into focus. The sickness was almost imperceptible, probably because they had not moved an inch. They still stood in Will’s apartment.

Serin grinned before opening her eyes, “That wasn’t bad at all.” She opened her eyes then blinked, “Oh. But I thought if it failed we would be dead…”

Will frowned, “No if it was unsuccessful we could be dead… failing to teleport us at all means that something is blocking teleports into Tethyamar.”

“But you’ve teleported back there before.”

Will nodded, “Aye.”

“So what can do that?”

“Magic, powerful magic.”

“But I’m pretty sure the dwarves can’t do that.”

Will sighed and sat down hard on the edge of his bed. He looked back to Serin, “In order for someone to cast that spell they would have to be inside the mines. And the only way to do that would be if the dwarves were…” He looked at the book dangle by its leather straps at his side.

Serin finished the sentence for him. “Dead.”

Above Szith Morcane
Underdark
Marpenoth 4th, A Couple of Hours Prior to Midnight

Tanerus blinked and glanced over at Plickit. The thri-kreen ranger nodded. He saw the movement too. Out of one of the holes in the chasm wall below a drow had slipped onto one of the ladders and was starting down further into the chasm, heading for another hole in the wall.

Plickit clicked softly, “Trying to-tck warn others-tck.”

Tanerus nodded and loaded his crossbow. Both heroes leaned over the ledge at once. Tanerus fired his crossbow and Plickit tossed his returning chatka. Both missiles slammed into the drow sentry below. He started to climb back up immediately.

He was the least of their worries. A drow spellguard leaned out of the hole and pointed up at them. Ice and snow materialized around the trio, slamming into all three for several seconds. It had been a trap, the spellguard had baited them to see if they would reveal themselves. It had worked perfectly.

Tanerus tried to retaliate with a searing light spell from one of his wands. The wand leapt to life in his hands and a bolt of light slammed into the spellguard. His drow innate resistance to magic kicked in though, and he was able to shrug off the magic light and leap back into the hole below, disappearing with the spellguard from sight.
Tanerus and Plickit backed away from the edge for a few moments, then they and Delorian glanced back over the ledge, only to see no one in sight, the drow must have been testing to see if they were still up there or not.

Delorian did not even say a word; he just pulled the shadows over him, disappearing from sight. He then stepped through the shadows and appeared off to one side of the hole the two drow had come out of. He could see a pair of drow guards, crouched at the end of a funnel shaped corridor. A ten-foot bottleneck led into the next room.

Time started to slip away. The drow guards seemed content to crouch near the hallway, watching the edge of the ledge from the safety of their position.

Tanerus glanced over the edge and frowned, “Its too hard to see down there, I need more light.”

The shadow hissed at him, “No fool, light is bad …”

The halfling growled, “Hush,” then fished an oil flask from his pack. He stuffed a cloth into the bottle and leaned over and threw it at the ledge.

Delorian was surprised when the ledge some fifteen from his current position, burst into flames at the sounds of a smashed bottle. Instantly the guards reacted, they started to back down the hallway, and both posted up in the corners of the next doorway, waiting to shoot whatever stuck its head out.

Plickit and Tanerus began moving closer to the lower ledge. Tanerus pulled out a scroll and fumbled through a spell that would let him climb like a spider. It worked and the halfling was soon scrambling across the webs to get a good vantage point on the hallway. He was easily concealable within the webbing, and was confident he would not be seen. Regardless he pulled the shadows closest to him around him, increasing his chances of remaining hidden. Plickit was sliding down the ladder quickly and was about halfway there.

Meanwhile Delorian crept forward, inching towards the guard’s, shadows still completely obscuring him from sight by even the keen dark elven vision. He stopped just in front of one of the guards, and then glanced beyond him into the room. Though he could only see part of the room, he saw at least eight more drow within. Worse still, he could hear the shuffling and breathing of several more in the corners of the room he could not see. There had to be near a score of drow within the room, all were armed, and all looked ready for a fight.

Delorian turned and began to retreat out of the room. He had to warn the others off, make sure they did not do anything rash. He was too late. Tanerus, knowing that drow were hiding just beyond the corridor he could see pulled out his wand of fireballs. The monk saw the pea shaped ball of fire streaking into the passage and rolled to the ground and to one side. Fire exploded within the room beyond.

There were cries of surprise from within, and then the sounds of an officer barking, “Go, go, go! Kill the intruders!”

 

[Wraithdrit]

Tanerus quickly lowered himself into the mass of webbing that he was hiding in. He clutched the wand nervously and chewed on his lower lip. What had he gotten himself into, he thought. Well the others had to be close by. He hoped.

Hearing the commotion coming from the barracks Plickit reached over to one arm, where his everesmoking bottle was strapped down, its cork firmly in place. He flicked the cork free and smoke spewed forth from the bottle beginning to quickly fill the area of the chasm around him.

Delorian backed quickly away as the smoke swirled around him, filling the opening. He slid back and against the wall as drow warrior after drow warrior began fanning out, cautiously moving forward through the smoke.

Hoping that he had made escape possible for the others, Plickit began quickly climbing up the ladder. He was not sure who had stirred up the drow, but it sounded like there were far too many for him and his companions to handle.

Delorian did all he could to become one with the wall, his shadowy form was invisible even to the sharp drow vision, and the smoke was making it hard for everyone to see. The monk crept slowly toward the ledge. All the while his hand slid through shadows, ready to pull a shadow loose so he could step through.

Tanerus waved at the smoke in front of him, frowning all the while. He could hear that there were several drow swarming out onto the landing, but he could not see them. Well, if he could not see them, they could not see him. He leveled the wand once again and fire belched forth from it once more.

The explosion rocked the landing, and several drow were flung to the ground. Delorian threw up his hands, but the flames did not quite reach where he was. The drow reacted quicker than the monk thought was possible. Hand crossbows fired out in a wave, a score of bolts flinging out into the chasm.

Tanerus yelped as the bolts went flying by. They were shooting blind, but they knew generally where the fireball had come from. Bolts ripped past him, one skinned his ear, not actually marking him. He twisted to one side and a bolt slammed into his arm. He winced by did not cry out. He could not give away his position! He reached for the bolt, knowing its poison was already entering his system. He resisted the urge to sleep. The urge to just lay in the comfortable webbing and take a nap. Another bolt sunk into his thigh. He shuddered and collapsed into the web, asleep.

Up top, Mytrym heard the second explosion. “I have to go down there!” He grabbed out a potion and drank it down, more of his strength started to return to him. Naria was quick to react, grabbing him by the arm.

“Are you crazy? You’ll be killed just like them. You are in no condition to fight!” The paladin paused for only a moment, staring at Naria in disbelief. It did not matter to him if he would die, he was not going to let his friends die alone.

As the drow scrambled off the ledge and onto the web, one drow, a spellguard flew out into the web seeking whoever had tossed the fireballs at his group. He found the halfling sleeping in the web and scowled. His knife came into his hands as he leaned down and grabbed the halfling by the hair.

Plickit reached the ledge leading out of the chasm and scrambled toward the hole. When he got there he threw himself up. His powerful insect legs propelled him upward and his hands grabbed the edge. The others quickly pulled him up.

Delorian appeared behind the group, “Too many to fight alone.”

Mytrym spun on him, “Where’s Tanerus?”

Delorian shrugged, “I never saw him. I assume that was him tossing fireballs. He must still be below.”

Mytrym looked down the shaft. Below there were the sounds of what sounded like a small army coming. “We can’t leave him down there!”

Naria grabbed his arm once again. “You would sacrifice all of us to save him? We have to go!”

Amador muttered a quick prayer of blessing, asking his god to look over those with him in this, their most desperate hour.

Delorian shook his head, “No. We hold the ledge. If they take it, they will only fortify it.” He stepped past Naria and dropped down the shaft.

Mytrym looked to Plickit. The thrikreen shrugged, “Plickit-tck go down the hole. Tck.” The ranger followed Delorian down the hole, but had not even reached the bottom when her heard the sounds of fighting.

Delorian had hit the bottom and tumbled to his feet facing a drow officer. The women wielded a twin bladed sword and she lashed out before the monk had much chance to react. He backpedaled quickly, and a second drow officer came out of the swirling smoke to attack his flank. He could see other shapes moving through the thick smoke. The ledge had already been lost.

Plickit landed, and quickly took stock of the situation. There was no way for them to hold the ledge against this. Perhaps if Mytrym was healthy, if Amador and Naria were not out of spells, maybe then, but with the group so exhausted this was not a fight they could win. He fell back into a corner and hid, his ring making his form look like the rocks around him.

Delorian fought a quick retreat. Once out of range of the officers’ deadly twin swords, he pulled a shadow across his form and stepped through.

Up top the others were already moving out. They backed quickly down the uneven natural corridor. Delorian appeared beside them. Grim determination showed on the monk’s features as he pulled shadows back across him, once again disappearing from sight. Delorian would hold the ground for as long as he could, knowing he could escape faster than any of the others.

One of the drow appeared from in the shaft. She walked straight up the wall, her feet clinging to it as if she were a spider herself. She crouched, watching the surface dwellers retreat. The second officer soon joined her. Delorian began to take a step toward them, perhaps if he could stun them he could toss them back down the shaft.

His movement was cut short when a drow spellguard floated up the shaft and into view. Without pausing the spellguard cast a quick spell, sending multiple magical bolts slamming into the monk. The spellguard could see him. It was time to leave.

The monk turned and shadow stepped down the corridor to his companions. They moved quickly away. The drow were not chasing them, but they did not want to give them any reason to at this point. They needed to regroup. They needed rest. As they moved away, the spellguard called out to them in common, “Go surface dwellers, and never return!” He lifted a knife, the blade of which was freshly stained with dripping blood. “Return and the White Banshee will have your souls, just like your halfling friend!”