JollyDoc
Explorer
MUMMIES AT MIDNIGHT, CENTIPEDES AT DUSK
As Salazar eyed the hidden coins skeptically, the slumbering figment on the throne suddenly began to speak. The image appeared to continue to sleep, and the soft words were barely audible, “Betrayed we are by our own magic. One by one, we fade away-. Jzadirune’s lost! Oh, how tragic! We curse the vanishing day.”
Pez pondered the words… ‘fade away…’, ‘vanishing’, were they more than just words? A warning perhaps…
“Salazar,” he said, snapping the hidden niche closed, and barely missing the rogue’s fingers, “I wouldn’t handle those if I were you. Do you recall the stalker, and the masked skulk? Both of them had that strange transparency about them. The locksmith used the term ‘vanished’ when he described what happened to the gnomes who used to live here. What if it’s a curse? Perhaps those two creatures stumbled upon it by accident. I reiterate, nothing should be touched or handled more than absolutely necessary. We need to make haste. I don’t want to spend any longer than we have to in this haunted place.”
Pez headed for the gear-door on the far side of the room, Oso and Sal following. Tilly picked himself up painfully from the floor, rubbing his haunches. As he climbed the stairs again, he tripped and fell at least three more times, and then spilled the contents of his knapsack all over the floor. Muttering under his breath, he quickly gathered up his belongings as Rusty stalked past. The dwarf was eyeing Pez suspiciously. One hand absently strayed to his belt pouch. Curse, he thought to himself. Bah!
Beyond the gear portal, they found a ruined factory of some sort. Metal wreckage and broken gears lay strewn about. Standing in the midst of the room was the half-built, metal framework of a four-legged construct with one arm ending in a spiked wedge. It’s other arm was missing.
To Pez, the automaton looked exactly like the beast they had met previously, but this one seemed harmless enough. Still, care should be taken. He glanced around the rest of the room, wary of unseen foes, when a sudden quick movement caught his eye. Lurching across the floor towards an archway at the far side of the chamber, was a humanoid of some sort, though it seemed to be wrapped in rags from head to toe.
“Sal, Tilly! It’s trying to run! Stop it before it sounds an alarm!” Pez shouted.
Tilly did his best to cut the creature off, but he just couldn’t seem to make his legs move as fast as he wanted them to. The shambling thing made it to the corridor, and started quickly down it. Salazar raced past Tilly, and then dove between the creature’s legs, coming up in a crouch on the opposite side, blade bared and blocking the passage.
Sal could see his quarry more clearly now, but that didn’t really help matters. All he could see of its features were its eyes, which looked terrified. This didn’t change the fact that the monster still had a wickedly sharp rapier in its hand, and it lunged towards him. The rogue easily parried the clumsy thrust, and prepared to slip his own blade under the defenses of his opponent. However, he caught a glimpse of Tilly trying to creep up from behind, and he hesitated a moment, waiting for a better opportunity.
Tilly’s sneak attempt failed miserably. Once again, his feet betrayed him, and he stumbled into a wall, his gear and weapons clanging off the stone. The rag-draped beast whirled, but as it did so, Sal struck. He drove his blade deep between its shoulders, and twisted. The creature slumped and fell hard against the wall, sinking slowly to the floor.
Sal shook his head, sorry that he’d had to resort to lethal tactics yet again. Did nothing in this place care to listen to reason, or at least attempt diplomacy? He prepared to sheath his blade, when Tilly shouted a warning.
The rags that entwined the creature were moving! Like a living thing, they slithered and slid from its body, until the corpse of a skulk was revealed. This little fact failed to hold Sal’s attention since the rags themselves now hovered in mid-air before him.
“What the…” he started, but was cut off as whip-like, they struck at him. He was hit with the force of a strongly swung club, and careened into the wall. Then, the cloth attempted to entwine his arm where it had hit. Shaking his arm violently, he began swinging his sword wildly, trying to keep the thing at bay. Tilly joined him, at first whirling two blades, but then having to resort to just his shortsword when his dagger flew out of his hands.
The two rogues continued to attack the writhing mass, and finally were able to silence the unnatural thing. Tilly kicked the inert mass for good measure, and then promptly slipped and fell. Sal again prepared to sheath his weapon as Pez and the others approached. “I’ve never seen the like,” the winged elf said, gazing down at the remains.
“I’ve had a bit o’experience with the walkin’ dead,” Rusty added, “and I would’o said this here’s a mummy, but no mummy I ever seen was able ta shed its hide like that.”
“This place is just full of surprises,” Sal said glumly, “If we ever make it out of here alive, I’ll thank Lady Jenya for her patronage, and then I think Tilly and I will look for a safer line of work…like clipping the toenails of a dragon perhaps.”
Rusty chuckled, “Yer still a soft boy yet. Hang around me fer a spell, and I’ll school ya proper in how to be an adventurer. Pickin’ pockets might keep food in yer belly, lad, but you’ll never amount ta nothin’, and you’ll never be rich. Now, don’t get me wrong. I’m a holy man, after all, and wordly gain’s not my main concern, but there’s nothin’ in the good book that forbids prayin’ on a silk prayer rug as opposed to bare earth. There’s a whole big world out there, I’m tellin ye, and a whole nother one under it. Ye have ta take a risk or ten if ye want to reap any rewards…just think of all the magic a place like this could hold! The Lady of the Weave leaves these things hidden, so they can be found, examined, and appreciated by those who respect her works. We’re obligated to undertake these great quests.”
He clapped the rogue on the shoulder and then stumped up the corridor, a stray bit of the dead rags clinging to his boots.
The hallways continued more or less north and east, passing through several gear works and passages filled with strange, silent machinery. Great windmill-like fans hung from the ceilings of some, their blades still and draped with cobwebs and dust. Cracked leather belts ran from them and disappeared into small holes in the walls.
While exploring one such area, Oso paused at a seemingly blank wall. He thought he felt a faint breeze coming from somewhere, but no wind stirred the dust on the floor. He pressed himself up against the brick, and then slowly ran his hands across the stones. Aha! His fingers found a faint seam, all but invisible to the naked eye. He traced it completely until he was able to discern the outline of a hidden door. Motioning his friends over, he reached for a loose, rusty wall sconce and turned it sideways. With a groan of long disused hinges, the section of wall swung outward, revealing a pitch black chamber beyond. Sal brought his light forward, but to his surprise, the adjoining area seemed filled with mist! It rolled about in lazy billows, creeping tendrils pouring through the open doorway. Even Pez’ divine vision could not pierce the gloom.
“Oso,” Pez turned, “Your eyes are sharp as well. Come with me, but move slowly, and stay right beside me. I don’t want to lose you in there. Tilly, Sal, you next. Rusty, you stay here and make sure this door remains open.”
The two elves moved slowly forward, and before they had even gone five feet, they had lost sight of their companions and the doorway behind. The clinging mist closed in all about them, muffling sounds and muting the light from the sunrod Pez held aloft. Strange, dark shapes loomed up out of the gloom, but turned out to be bookshelves lining the walls, as well as an empty lectern, and a tall, rolling ladder. A library of some sort then, Pez thought, though he could see no books.
Suddenly, he felt Oso jerk next to him, and heard a hiss of surprise. “Something just ran across my foot,” the ranger said. At the same moment, Pez felt something sharp sink into his calf. He kicked his boot out, and then stamped down, trying to dislodge whatever had bitten him. As he lowered the sunrod, he was revolted to see a multi-legged centipede, roughly the size of a shortsword, wrapped around his leg. Oso had another clinging to his cloak. A squeal from within the mist proved that Tilly and Sal had also encountered the vermin.
Oso quickly stabbed down with his sword, scraping the insect from his cloak and then impaling it to the floor. Pez’ own sword was too large to bring to bear, so he reached down with one mailed fist and seized the bug, squeezing it into a sopping mess.
“Yuck!” Tilly exclaimed, appearing from the fog, and wiping bug juice from his dagger.
“There’s nothing here,” Sal sighed, “Another dead-end.”
“Not quite,” Oso said, “There is light coming from beneath this wall. It’s faint, but there nonetheless. I expect there’s another door here.”
While the elf located the opening mechanism of this second portal, Pez called out to Rusty, guiding the priest to his voice.
Beyond the hidden door was an enormous chamber, its ceiling soaring to a height of forty-five feet at its peak. Two great marble pillars supported wooden balconies fifteen feet above the chamber’s east and west wings. Two iron-wrought spiral staircases connected the balconies to the ground floor. The furnishings on the lower level suggested some sort of assembly area. Desks occupied much of it, though a few boxes and crates filled various corners and nooks. An eight-foot diameter wooden gear hung from the ceiling at the north end of the chamber, suspended by a pair of great iron chains. A bright light burned in the hollow center of the giant gear, illuminating a large mosaic of interconnected gears painstakingly painted on the ceiling and walls. The singular light cast many shadows throughout the chamber, and the faint sound of clattering metal resonated from somewhere not too far away.
Salazar peered around the room, and his gaze fell on a distant archway at the far side. It seemed to be boarded up with timbers, chairs and wooden tables. Sal felt his heart stutter, and his blood freeze. The barricade they had seen earlier while battling the creepers and the stalker...the one they had assumed the skulks and creepers had erected to keep something trapped in the chamber beyond. This was that same barricade, only this time they were on the wrong side of it…
As Salazar eyed the hidden coins skeptically, the slumbering figment on the throne suddenly began to speak. The image appeared to continue to sleep, and the soft words were barely audible, “Betrayed we are by our own magic. One by one, we fade away-. Jzadirune’s lost! Oh, how tragic! We curse the vanishing day.”
Pez pondered the words… ‘fade away…’, ‘vanishing’, were they more than just words? A warning perhaps…
“Salazar,” he said, snapping the hidden niche closed, and barely missing the rogue’s fingers, “I wouldn’t handle those if I were you. Do you recall the stalker, and the masked skulk? Both of them had that strange transparency about them. The locksmith used the term ‘vanished’ when he described what happened to the gnomes who used to live here. What if it’s a curse? Perhaps those two creatures stumbled upon it by accident. I reiterate, nothing should be touched or handled more than absolutely necessary. We need to make haste. I don’t want to spend any longer than we have to in this haunted place.”
Pez headed for the gear-door on the far side of the room, Oso and Sal following. Tilly picked himself up painfully from the floor, rubbing his haunches. As he climbed the stairs again, he tripped and fell at least three more times, and then spilled the contents of his knapsack all over the floor. Muttering under his breath, he quickly gathered up his belongings as Rusty stalked past. The dwarf was eyeing Pez suspiciously. One hand absently strayed to his belt pouch. Curse, he thought to himself. Bah!
Beyond the gear portal, they found a ruined factory of some sort. Metal wreckage and broken gears lay strewn about. Standing in the midst of the room was the half-built, metal framework of a four-legged construct with one arm ending in a spiked wedge. It’s other arm was missing.
To Pez, the automaton looked exactly like the beast they had met previously, but this one seemed harmless enough. Still, care should be taken. He glanced around the rest of the room, wary of unseen foes, when a sudden quick movement caught his eye. Lurching across the floor towards an archway at the far side of the chamber, was a humanoid of some sort, though it seemed to be wrapped in rags from head to toe.
“Sal, Tilly! It’s trying to run! Stop it before it sounds an alarm!” Pez shouted.
Tilly did his best to cut the creature off, but he just couldn’t seem to make his legs move as fast as he wanted them to. The shambling thing made it to the corridor, and started quickly down it. Salazar raced past Tilly, and then dove between the creature’s legs, coming up in a crouch on the opposite side, blade bared and blocking the passage.
Sal could see his quarry more clearly now, but that didn’t really help matters. All he could see of its features were its eyes, which looked terrified. This didn’t change the fact that the monster still had a wickedly sharp rapier in its hand, and it lunged towards him. The rogue easily parried the clumsy thrust, and prepared to slip his own blade under the defenses of his opponent. However, he caught a glimpse of Tilly trying to creep up from behind, and he hesitated a moment, waiting for a better opportunity.
Tilly’s sneak attempt failed miserably. Once again, his feet betrayed him, and he stumbled into a wall, his gear and weapons clanging off the stone. The rag-draped beast whirled, but as it did so, Sal struck. He drove his blade deep between its shoulders, and twisted. The creature slumped and fell hard against the wall, sinking slowly to the floor.
Sal shook his head, sorry that he’d had to resort to lethal tactics yet again. Did nothing in this place care to listen to reason, or at least attempt diplomacy? He prepared to sheath his blade, when Tilly shouted a warning.
The rags that entwined the creature were moving! Like a living thing, they slithered and slid from its body, until the corpse of a skulk was revealed. This little fact failed to hold Sal’s attention since the rags themselves now hovered in mid-air before him.
“What the…” he started, but was cut off as whip-like, they struck at him. He was hit with the force of a strongly swung club, and careened into the wall. Then, the cloth attempted to entwine his arm where it had hit. Shaking his arm violently, he began swinging his sword wildly, trying to keep the thing at bay. Tilly joined him, at first whirling two blades, but then having to resort to just his shortsword when his dagger flew out of his hands.
The two rogues continued to attack the writhing mass, and finally were able to silence the unnatural thing. Tilly kicked the inert mass for good measure, and then promptly slipped and fell. Sal again prepared to sheath his weapon as Pez and the others approached. “I’ve never seen the like,” the winged elf said, gazing down at the remains.
“I’ve had a bit o’experience with the walkin’ dead,” Rusty added, “and I would’o said this here’s a mummy, but no mummy I ever seen was able ta shed its hide like that.”
“This place is just full of surprises,” Sal said glumly, “If we ever make it out of here alive, I’ll thank Lady Jenya for her patronage, and then I think Tilly and I will look for a safer line of work…like clipping the toenails of a dragon perhaps.”
Rusty chuckled, “Yer still a soft boy yet. Hang around me fer a spell, and I’ll school ya proper in how to be an adventurer. Pickin’ pockets might keep food in yer belly, lad, but you’ll never amount ta nothin’, and you’ll never be rich. Now, don’t get me wrong. I’m a holy man, after all, and wordly gain’s not my main concern, but there’s nothin’ in the good book that forbids prayin’ on a silk prayer rug as opposed to bare earth. There’s a whole big world out there, I’m tellin ye, and a whole nother one under it. Ye have ta take a risk or ten if ye want to reap any rewards…just think of all the magic a place like this could hold! The Lady of the Weave leaves these things hidden, so they can be found, examined, and appreciated by those who respect her works. We’re obligated to undertake these great quests.”
He clapped the rogue on the shoulder and then stumped up the corridor, a stray bit of the dead rags clinging to his boots.
The hallways continued more or less north and east, passing through several gear works and passages filled with strange, silent machinery. Great windmill-like fans hung from the ceilings of some, their blades still and draped with cobwebs and dust. Cracked leather belts ran from them and disappeared into small holes in the walls.
While exploring one such area, Oso paused at a seemingly blank wall. He thought he felt a faint breeze coming from somewhere, but no wind stirred the dust on the floor. He pressed himself up against the brick, and then slowly ran his hands across the stones. Aha! His fingers found a faint seam, all but invisible to the naked eye. He traced it completely until he was able to discern the outline of a hidden door. Motioning his friends over, he reached for a loose, rusty wall sconce and turned it sideways. With a groan of long disused hinges, the section of wall swung outward, revealing a pitch black chamber beyond. Sal brought his light forward, but to his surprise, the adjoining area seemed filled with mist! It rolled about in lazy billows, creeping tendrils pouring through the open doorway. Even Pez’ divine vision could not pierce the gloom.
“Oso,” Pez turned, “Your eyes are sharp as well. Come with me, but move slowly, and stay right beside me. I don’t want to lose you in there. Tilly, Sal, you next. Rusty, you stay here and make sure this door remains open.”
The two elves moved slowly forward, and before they had even gone five feet, they had lost sight of their companions and the doorway behind. The clinging mist closed in all about them, muffling sounds and muting the light from the sunrod Pez held aloft. Strange, dark shapes loomed up out of the gloom, but turned out to be bookshelves lining the walls, as well as an empty lectern, and a tall, rolling ladder. A library of some sort then, Pez thought, though he could see no books.
Suddenly, he felt Oso jerk next to him, and heard a hiss of surprise. “Something just ran across my foot,” the ranger said. At the same moment, Pez felt something sharp sink into his calf. He kicked his boot out, and then stamped down, trying to dislodge whatever had bitten him. As he lowered the sunrod, he was revolted to see a multi-legged centipede, roughly the size of a shortsword, wrapped around his leg. Oso had another clinging to his cloak. A squeal from within the mist proved that Tilly and Sal had also encountered the vermin.
Oso quickly stabbed down with his sword, scraping the insect from his cloak and then impaling it to the floor. Pez’ own sword was too large to bring to bear, so he reached down with one mailed fist and seized the bug, squeezing it into a sopping mess.
“Yuck!” Tilly exclaimed, appearing from the fog, and wiping bug juice from his dagger.
“There’s nothing here,” Sal sighed, “Another dead-end.”
“Not quite,” Oso said, “There is light coming from beneath this wall. It’s faint, but there nonetheless. I expect there’s another door here.”
While the elf located the opening mechanism of this second portal, Pez called out to Rusty, guiding the priest to his voice.
Beyond the hidden door was an enormous chamber, its ceiling soaring to a height of forty-five feet at its peak. Two great marble pillars supported wooden balconies fifteen feet above the chamber’s east and west wings. Two iron-wrought spiral staircases connected the balconies to the ground floor. The furnishings on the lower level suggested some sort of assembly area. Desks occupied much of it, though a few boxes and crates filled various corners and nooks. An eight-foot diameter wooden gear hung from the ceiling at the north end of the chamber, suspended by a pair of great iron chains. A bright light burned in the hollow center of the giant gear, illuminating a large mosaic of interconnected gears painstakingly painted on the ceiling and walls. The singular light cast many shadows throughout the chamber, and the faint sound of clattering metal resonated from somewhere not too far away.
Salazar peered around the room, and his gaze fell on a distant archway at the far side. It seemed to be boarded up with timbers, chairs and wooden tables. Sal felt his heart stutter, and his blood freeze. The barricade they had seen earlier while battling the creepers and the stalker...the one they had assumed the skulks and creepers had erected to keep something trapped in the chamber beyond. This was that same barricade, only this time they were on the wrong side of it…
