X-PATH: Stick Your Citadel Where the Sun Don't Shine (Complete 5 Aug 2004)

[Capellan]

4: Hot Times in Kobold City

The stone door eased open slowly.

"No sign of anything waiting for us." Smith reported. Quietly - or as quiet as you can be when one of you is in platform boots - the four moved back into the corridor.

"So which way do we all go?" Floyd asked. "Toward them scaly critters, or the lot that we messed with last time?"

"Scaly critters." Smith made his choice quickly, "We saw them first."

"Scaly ones." Fabio agreed, pointing in that direction and taking the opportunity to posture for Beverly.

Their course agreed, the group moved forward. The room where they had previously fought the reptilian humanoids was empty of living foes, though bloodied corpses still littered the floor.

As they eased open the door to the room, a bell jangled in the distance. Smith swore, pointing to a rope that was attached to the door handle.

"They'll be ready for us, now."

"That's okay, son." Floyd slipped on a pair of sunglasses, "Ah'm ready, too."

* * *

Yusdrayl watched as the warriors of the tribe scrambled to respond to the alarm bell. Six of her bounders had been lost - seven if she counted that fool, Meepo - and now the intruders returned. Well, the Dragonfolk were ready for them, now. They would fall, and fill the bellies of her brood.

Incanting the words of protection, the kobold matriarch encased herself in a shimmering aura of force, and moved to join the defence, her guards moving in a screen before her.

There was a shout, then a clash of steel, as the first of her people burst from hiding and attacked the fleshy intruders. Yusdrayl smiled, moving so she could see the assault.

A pair of the humans stood athwart an intersection of two corridors. Two of her people were already fighting them, while four more charged along the corridor as she watched.

Then a third human appeared, casting what looked like a rock toward the charging warriors. White fire burst out, wreathing the kobolds in flame and death. They screamed and fell, writhing in brief, agonising death.

Yusdrayl sucked breath into her snout, her yellow eyes narrowing. These folk had magic, did they? They would learn that the Dragonborn did, as well.

She spoke, and two shards of energy flew from her fingers to strike the man who had cast the fire. He shouted and stepped back out of sight, limping slightly from the injury.

Seeing the man's retreat, the warriors of the tribe surged forward again, one of the bravest lancing his spear deep into his enemy's thigh. Bright, arterial blood flowed. Yusdrayl's nose twitched at the scent. The injured human stumbled back, his hand falling to the injury, trying to staunch the flow of blood. A howl rose from her people as they saw victory.

And then the lead-most warrior exploded, his body shattered by the strange metal wands held by the humans. Another fighter seemed to lose his senses, running past the fighting men, without a thought to defend himself. He fell, skull shattered by a blow from a pick, and the howl turned to a moan of despair.

Yusdrayl summoned her magic as fast as she could, sending blast after blast of energy against the foe. Surely they must fall eventually.

But they did not, and her people continued to die. One by one, they fell, until the intersection was choked with their bodies. Yusdrayl's magic began to falter, and she switched to a less potent spell, still fighting on despite the cold certainty in her heart. She would die this day.

"If only the accursed goblins had not stolen Calcryx -" she hissed, flinging a ray of cold at her foes. "- we would feast on your bones."

One of the humans raised his wand, and there was a noise like a dragon's roar.

* * *

"Damn, there was a lot o' those little bastards." Floyd wiped the back of his hand across his forehead, smearing half-dried blood across his skin. "Any of 'em still moving?"

"Not by themselves." Beverly kicked the corpse of the last to fall, a wizened female who had thrown magical bolts against them. "Nasty looking things." She paused and giggled, "Did you see the one I waved at? It came running straight by you. Stupid beast."

"Treasure." Fabio interjected, waving from the far end of the long hall. Beverly and Floyd approached, leaving Smith to the job of collecting the creature's collection of coins.

Their long-haired companion had found a small altar, on which sat a number of items.

"Well, lookee here." Floyd picked up an old iron key. Under a slight tarnish of rust, a carved dragon's head could be seen on the handle.

"What about it?" Beverly wrinkled her nose, "It's dirty."

"Before y'all came here, there were a door we found as we couldn't open. Had a dragon on it. Ah'd say we all just found the key." Floyd tucked the item away, as well as the other objects on the altar. "Let's check what else we can find in these parts, then head back there."

* * *

"Oh yes." The goblin prisoner gabbled in broken Common, nervously cringing away from the corpse of the creature beside it, "Very interested learn Book of Mormon. Book of Mormon very good."

"I knew these translations of the Book would come in handy." Smith smiled in satisfaction.

"Do you really believe it?" Beverly looked up from filing her nails, "I mean, you just killed its friends. It's hardly likely to say 'no'."

"God will punish his transgression if he lies."

"Right." The young blonde rolled her eyes and yawned, "Look, can we get on with this? I'm bored."

Handing his new convert a leather-bound copy of the Book of Mormon, Smith led the way out of the jail room, back into the main kobold hall.

"So, one goblin you shot in the head, one you pushed into a pit trap, and one that managed to run off." Beverly mused, twirling a finger in her hair, "How do you think this one will die?"

"Runnin' away." Floyd tapped his pistol.

"He's a member of the brethren." Smith insisted, "We must trust him."

"Trust that?" Beverly sniffed, "I don't even trust you, Mr Skanky I've-Got-Four-Wives."

 

[Capellan]

5: An IMPolite Reception

Fabio kicked open the door.

Crossbow bolts flew at him, one creasing across his arm.

Three kobolds frantically began to reload their weapons. Beyond them clustered the remnants of the tribe: females and young, no more than two dozen in all.

Floyd and Smith charged into the room, firing from the hip. One of the crossbows exploded in a shower of splinters, a shard of wood flying up and spearing its scaly owner through the throat.

"Eat this!" Beverly threw a grenade toward one of the other creatures, but her aim was off: the metal sphere bounced short, spraying superheated phosphorous in all directions. Amazingly, the target of her attack was left unharmed.

Floyd, unfortunately, was not.

The synthetic fibres of his rhinestone jumpsuit evaporated in a sheet of flame, singing most of the hair off his incipient pot-belly.

"Mah hair ..." he choked out, and collapsed.

* * *

"Don't ever throw a grenade that close to one of us again." Smith shoved Beverly against a wall and jabbed her in her perfect chest.

"Hands off!" she slapped his finger away, "Besides, you did it earlier."

"Yeah, but I didn't miss."

"What's the big deal, he lived didn't he?" Beverly gestured at Floyd, who was busily styling his hair, using a battered steel shield as a mirror. "You're just cranky because your little convert ran off as soon as we were distracted."

"Don't do it again." Smith repeated, turning away. "Floyd, let me know when you're ready to move. Now we've dealt with one lot of these little freaks, I want to go try that dragon door."

Even with Floyd unconscious, the fight had lasted less than thirty seconds. Two crossbows simply couldn't stand against three modern weapons. Smith's medical attention had restored the disciple of Elvis to consciousness, while Beverly and Fabio kicked and swore at the non-combatant kobolds, until all the scaly creatures had fled out of the sunken building.

"Let's roll." Floyd slipped on a new white cape, and the four humans left the chamber to the corpses of their foes.

* * *

The 'dragon door' was a heavy, stone portal, with a leering dragon's head carved into it. In the mouth of the head was a small keyhole. The key slipped easily inside, and turned.

Click.

"Boom!" Beverly giggled as the three men jumped, then shrugged as they glared at her, "What? Like you weren't thinking it."

They made their way through several empty chambers. Dust lay heavy on most of the surfaces, stirring up as they moved. Fabio sneezed.

"This is not good for my sinuses."

Eventually, they reached a larger room. Floyd played his flashlight over the walls, revealing several niches containing statues.

"Last one's empty." He reported, the light lingering on the hollow.

"There's an opening in the far wall." Smith moved forward slowly, his own light splashing on the floor. "Big hole in front of it. Looks like spikes in the bottom, too."

"Can we jump it?"

"Maybe. It's ten feet across."

Floyd sucked air through his teeth, then shrugged,

"Let's look for a way around, first. Maybe there's a secret door in that alcove without the statue."

There wasn't, and - after searching four of the five statues as well - Smith decided to go down into the pit, then try to climb up the other side.

"We still have one statue to check." Beverly reminded him.

"I think you three can manage that, while I try this way." Smith shrugged, "As long as we get across, does it matter how we do it?"

* * *

Clinging invisibly to the wall, Jot watched as the lone human clambered down into the pit. The bat-winged imp suppressed a chuckle of anticipation, relishing the thought of attacking this particular man. Even from this distance, the smell of godliness about him was nauseating.

Hearing the scuffling sounds of climbing cease, Jot launched himself into the air, then dived into the pit.

* * *

Smith shouted in alarm as the tiny demon appeared out of thin air, raking at him with its gnarled claws. The wounds it opened burned with a dull ache, and he knew they were tainted with a foul poison.

"God shall punish thee for thy sins!" he swung his pick, striking the creature hard and knocking it tumbling through the air. Seizing the opportunity, he dug his fingers into the wall and began to clamber out of the pit.

Beverly and Floyd appeared above him, firing down at the small creature, but it flitted back and forth, nimbly dodging their fire, then swooped in to rake Smith across his back. The Mormon grunted, but blocked out the pain, scrambling out onto the floor of the room.

"Fall back, and let's give it a warm welcome!" Floyd called, as the creature scratched and bit at Fabio. Showing uncommon teamwork, the four humans all retreated together, opening some space between them and their foe. "Now!"

Four grenades arced down on the creature, bursting in sprays of phosphorous and shrapnel. Despite the storm of flame and metal shards, however, the creature swooped out all but unscratched. Cackling gleefully, it ripped its claws across Beverly's shoulder, tearing cloth and flesh alike.

"Hey! That was a four hundred dollar blouse!"

"Come here, ya little bastard." Floyd leapt forward and snatched the creature out of the air. It bit at his hand as he did so, but the man's grip was too firm to shake. "Mr Smith, if you'll do the honours?"

BOOM.

Still the creature struggled, trying to get free. Fabio and Beverly stepped up beside the Mormon.

BOOM. BOOM. BOOM.

* * *

Battered from all their encounters, the group collapsed to rest and recover. Both Fabio and Beverly felt listless, the creature's poison dulling their reflexes, and all four had suffered serious injuries.

"Uh thunk wev don'nough f'one day." Floyd proclaimed through a mouthful of cheeseburger, "We cun rest now."

Smith nodded his agreement, taking a careful sip of Cherry Coke. He still wasn't sure if this drink was entirely proper sustenance for a Latter Day Saint.

"Let's call in some supplies from back home, get some rest, then continue on." He concurred.

 

[ledded]

Great, great stuff man. Keep up the good work.

 

[DMO]

What a blast! I am hereby offended and lovin' it.

 

[pogre]

Now this is fun and pure genious! Keep it coming.

 

[Capellan]

6: Enter the Ninja
The supplies, when they arrived, were accompanied by a skinny white teenager in a faded Wolverine t-shirt.

"Yo. Wassup?" he made 'gangsta' signs with both hands, "Simon da Super Ninja is in da house."

There was a moment of goggle-eyed silence as the four unwashed, blood-spattered members of the group took in this acne'd, backwards-cap-wearing, baggy pantsed apparition.

Floyd slowly stood, his coif making him nearly a foot taller than the newcomer,

"Son, what all in the hell are you supposed to be?"

The boy sighed,

"I'm Simon the Super-Ninja. I'm part of your team."

"It's funny." Smith tapped his fingers on the barrel of his sawn-off, "I don't remember seeing you when we were sending all those scaly critters to the Lord."

"I had bronchitis."

"Uh huh."

"Look, I'm here now, and I'm ready to kick some. When do we start?"

"You all can start whenever you like." Floyd looked up from perusing the contents of the manila envelope that had come with their latest order of high incendiary goodness, "Ah'm goin' home for a while."

"What?" Beverly was outraged, "How come you get to go home and they won't let me leave?"

"Religious observances." Floyd waved a rhinestone-studded memorandum under her nose, "It's the Feast of the King. I'll be back in five days, y'all." He turned to the floating WCX camera and gave it a thumbs up, "Viva Las Vegas, baby."

There was a crackle of silver energy, and Floyd was gone.

* * *

"Okay, let's check this last alcove." Smith indicated the middle statue on the south wall, "And let's hope there are no distractions this time."

"I'll do it." Simon volunteered, "Ninja are trained to notice the smallest details." He slid past the statue and began to inspect the wall. "Yo, there's a secret door here."

The door opened onto a stone corridor, thick with dust and cobwebs.

"Homes, that's gonna play hell with da Sy-man's allergies."

"You'll get over it." Smith pushed past the younger man, "There's something written on the wall, here." He brushed the dust away, "It's some of that scribble they call writing, round here. Anyone picked up the lingo, yet?"

Fabio inspected it, lips moving silently as he pieced together the words.

"It says something about a priest, buried alive for breaking the law."

Smith shrugged,

"It's not like he'd be a real priest, anyway. Let's follow it."

They followed the corridor, which looped through a short arc before coming to an end at a stone door -

"No traps, homes."

- which opened into a room on the other side of the spiked pit. This was dimly lit by a flickering green torch, which cast strange shadows across the large stone sarcophagus in the centre of the room.

"I can sense something in it." Smith narrowed his eyes, "And it's not a follower of the true faith."

"Imagine that." Beverly rolled her eyes and adjusted her bra, "I've watched this show on TV enough to know what happens next. We open that thing and whatever's inside jumps out and tries to kill us, right?"

"Pretty much." Smith nodded, "Anyone got any complaints about going with that plan?"

Fabio does.

"The lighting here is really bad."

* * *

Slowly, Fabio and Simon forced open each of the six metal clasps that were holding the lid of the sarcophagus shut.

"Push the lid aside and step back fast." Smith warned. "Or I'll have to give you your last rites." He patted his shotgun tenderly.

Simon stepped back immediately,

"You can take it from here, Fabio." He drew a pair of pistols and dropped into a pose, "I'll put a cap in it when it comes out."

Fabio shrugged and bent to the task, muscles straining as he pushed against the massive stone lid.

"Mmmmm, in this light he kinda looks like Lou Ferrigno." Beverly sounded impressed. Fabio visibly preened as he gave the lid one last shove, pushing it away and onto the floor.

Right on cue, the monster burst out.

* * *

"The boy's got stones." The old man sounded appreciative, "Steppin' in and givin' that critter a shot at him so he could land a hit of his own. What was his name, again?"

"Joseph Isaiah Smith, sir." Jacobsen flicked through some papers, "From Salt Lake City."

Patton, attention on the giant image on the wall, grunted sourly.

"Mormon?"

"Yes sir."

"Better that than a godless commie, I guess." Patton gave a yellow-toothed snarl of appreciation as Smith reeled backwards, blood spurting from torn flesh on his arms and chest. "Tough son-of-a-bitch, ain't he?"

Fabio suddenly filled the camera's vision, leaping forward dramatically and slashing at the creature with his sword. The beast's green, lightly scaled skin did little to stop the blow, and black ichor sprayed across the floor. The flow rapidly ceased, however, as the edges of the wound immediately started to knit shut.

The creature - a long-limbed humanoid with a rubbery look to its flesh - snarled and backhanded Fabio with one of its claws. The man spun away from the blow almost as dramatically as he had leapt in.

When he finally moved out of the shot, the beast was down, stabbed through the eye by Simon.

"Damn show-pony." Patton snapped, "Jacobsen, get another camera down there so I can watch things without the pretty boy getting in the way."

* * *

Smith pulled the pin on the Willy Pete and dropped it on the creature's rapidly healing body. White fire ignited the flesh, searing the corpse to a burnt out husk in a matter of seconds.

"Burn in hell, demon." He muttered, before glancing at the others. Beverly was already leaning into the sarcophagus to check for treasure. A happily married man, the Mormon averted his eyes from the nigh-obscene display. Neither Fabio nor Simon had any such compunctions.

"Did you see the way I took that sucker down, yo?" Simon waved his hand in front of his face, "Bi-yatch didn't even see me coming."

"I can't believe it was a 'Bi-yatch'," Fabio looked confused, "I have not heard of such things."

"He was cursing." Smith slapped the 'Super Ninja' over the back of the head, "Mind your mouth in front of the lady, young man."

"That ain't no lady, that's a ho -" Simon spotted Smith's hand rise, "A homie. You're all my homies. We did the bizniss, yo."

Smith rubbed his forehead. It seemed the Good Lord was sending him a migraine.

 

[Graywolf-ELM]

Oh man, this will quickly become popular. I saw it first.

GW

 

[megamania]

...and to think I thought I was pushing the censorship limit in my SH. Curious to see where this will go and run to.

 

[megamania]

I have not read something like this since describing one of my female bards awakening to a dozen of short naked happy Hej-kin in Darksun!

Either you have a whacked sence of humor or drinking lots. Either way- keep it up.

I mau actually have to keep after this site

 

[megamania]

where is Elvis the Bard?