JollyDoc's Shackled City
JollyDoc
Explorer
Alas, dear friends. Our brave adventurers have suffered their first tragedy (but I'm sure not their last). One of our heroes met their end in game play last evening. I'll not say whom for now (and Gfunk and Joachim, Don't spoil it!)
I'll probably not be able to post an update until the weekend, as Gfunk, Joachim and myself are headed to GenCon. We'll let you know who wins the D&D toughman contest. FYI, G's character is a 25th level, anthropomorphic giant viper/half nixie Psion. To quote the Joker..."Wait'll they get aload of me"
I'll probably not be able to post an update until the weekend, as Gfunk, Joachim and myself are headed to GenCon. We'll let you know who wins the D&D toughman contest. FYI, G's character is a 25th level, anthropomorphic giant viper/half nixie Psion. To quote the Joker..."Wait'll they get aload of me"
Neverwinter Knight
First Post
Something is definately wrong with Rusty!!! First off, he's a peacemaker. But then, why does he talk like a pirate, you landlubbers??? Aye.
JollyDoc
Explorer
AND ONE SHALL FALL…
The company stood staring at the elevator platform, certain that this path would lead them to their goal, but at the same time quite uncertain of the consequences of reaching that destination.
Pez spoke first, “If we are going deeper, we are sure to be encountering far greater dangers than we have already. One of us should return to the temple and inform Jenya of our status. She should be aware of our last known location should we fail.”
Oso glanced sharply at the holy warrior, “I will go. I have no love of these deep places. I feel confined, closed in. I will tell Jenya what has occurred thus far, but know this…if you do not return, I will come in search of you. I swear this to you.”
Before the others could protest, the ranger turned on his heel and disappeared into the darkness.
Pez looked around at his remaining companions, quietly gauging their resolve. “Our descent on this platform will not be a quiet one. If the fortress below has been forewarned of our approach, we could very well be walking into a trap. I will go ahead and scout the area. You three wait here, and I shall come back swiftly.”
“Now just a minute!” Salazar protested, “How are you going to scout any quieter than the rest of us? Tilly and I are somewhat more familiar with infiltration, if you know what I mean. If we lose you, we’ve lost our best swordsman. I don’t think we should split up.”
“Trust me,” Pez said quietly, “I have abilities beyond your comprehension.” As if in proof, the elf’s body began to dissolve into a misty vapor that still bore the general outline of Pez, but no substance. The cloud then flowed through the central hole of the platform, and out of sight.
“Blast him!” Rusty spat, “I’m guessin’ he don’t recall what happened the last time he went scoutin’.”
Pez flew silently down the darkened shaft, deeper and deeper into the earth. After a while, the walls of the shaft turned from bare gray stone to polished black malachite. It took the archon several minutes to reach the bottom, which he guessed to be some two hundred feet below the chamber in which his friends waited.
The room at the bottom was completely bare. He could see the chains attached to a pulley mechanism on the floor, and then rising up into the darkness. A single, iron reinforced door seemed to be the only exit.
Pez drifted over to the door, and then slipped soundlessly under the crack beneath. Beyond he found himself in a large hallway, its ceiling rising to an apex some twenty feet above. The floor, walls and ceiling were all composed of smooth, black stone. Two cylindrical, iron cages dangled from the ceiling by iron chains, one nearby and the other some forty feet further down the passage.
A strange sculpture stood in the middle of the hall between the two cages. It seemed to be a five-foot tall column of roughly hewn gray stone covered with sharp protrusions. Four crystal-tipped appendages jutted from the stony mass, each one pointing in a different direction. Some sort of guidepost, Pez assumed. He flew on down the corridor, past the statue and the cages. Ahead, the hall seemed to reach a dead-end. Another iron-reinforced door stood closed to his left.
Again, he sank down to the level of the floor and flowed easily beneath the portal. Instantly he was assailed by a putrid stench. The room he had entered was splattered wall-to-wall with filth, bile, bones and other disgusting remains. No furniture was present, per se, but some of the older refuse had hardened into a crude chair. Seated on this dung throne was a large, gangly creature. It would be at least nine feet tall standing, Pez estimated. It was dressed in a boiled, hide breast piece, and a great, curved falchion rested across its knees. Large yellow tusks protruded from its undershot jaw, and its red-rimmed, yellow eyes immediately focused on Pez.
Xukasus was bored, and he was irritated…not a good combination. His boredom stemmed from the fact that he was charged by Kazmojen to stand guard over this approach to the fortress, and to oversee the hobgoblins as well, neither of which was particularly challenging. After all, the only ones who ever came down the shaft were those miserable skulks or the hairy little creepers. True, they often had a slave shipment with them, but he wasn’t even allowed to sample those wares. They were strictly off-limits.
His irritation was due to the fact that he grew more and more weary of this form he was forced to wear. You see, Xukasus was not the ogre that he appeared to be. He was, in fact, an otyugh, a creature that revels in filth and debris. He had been seeking a particularly tasty bit of decaying refuse in the gnome enclave above, when he had triggered one of their blasted traps. He found himself instantly transformed into his current guise. Kazmojen had found him thus, and had promised to find a way to restore him if he agreed to serve the slaver. So, here he sat, day after day with nothing to break the tedium and monotony…until now.
At first, Xukasus did not know what to make of the misty cloud seeping under his door, but as it assumed a humanoid shape, he recalled that a few days ago one of those sneaking skulks had come down the shaft in a panic, claiming there were intruders above. Xukasus had dismissed the rantings as more of the paranoia that the skulks were so noted for, but is seemed now that they were telling the truth. How fortunate for him. He lurched to his feet, bringing his falchion up above his head, “Fresh carrion for my larder! Very nice!”
Pez knew he was in trouble. The gaseous form he had assumed was fine for unobtrusive spying, but totally unsuited for combat. He could bring none of his weapons or abilities to bear, nor could he move particularly fast. As the ogre’s sword came whistling down, he quickly zipped back under the doorway, and began moving up the hallway as quickly as he could.
The door behind him slammed open and the ogre came roaring into the passage. “You can run, but you can’t hide! Xukasus hungers, and his appetite won’t wait!”
Pez tried to move faster, but the giant was gaining. He had just passed the guidepost, when he was given a second shock as the statue began to move!
The statue’s base began sliding across the floor towards Pez, and its spiked appendages began swinging in large, deadly arcs.
“You see,” the ogre cried, “My little pet has a surprise for you! Hawr, hawr, hawr!”
Pez could tell that he wouldn’t make it to the elevator shaft in time. Thinking quickly, he darted between the bars of the cage which hung nearby, hoping for a brief respite to gather his wits.
The ogre roared in frustration, and began shaking the cage with one great hand. The lock held fast and Xukasus’ huge fingers could not fit between the bars. Enraged, the giant drew back with his falchion and began hacking at the iron bars. On the other side, the stone statue was also raining blow after blow against the cage.
Pez knew his time was running out. He could see the cage bars starting to buckle. He waited for just the right moment, when both of his opponents were winding up for another blow, and then he quickly flowed through the bars on the back side of the cage, and made a break for the door. He made it beneath, and managed to fly several feet up the shaft before the ogre threw the door open and charged inside, his stone pet right behind.
“Get down here and fight!” Xukasus raged, shaking his fist at his escaping prey.
“Not just now, thanks,” Pez taunted back, “Perhaps another time, when you’re not so busy. Good hunting to you!” With that, he soared back up the shaft, the shouts and curses of the ogre diminishing in the distance.
Several minutes later, Sal, Tilly and Rusty breathed easier as they saw the misty form of Pez reappear on the platform. As quickly as he had dissolved, the warrior now solidified back to his normal form. “We’ve got trouble,” he began, “The approach is guarded, and not just by a few lowly skulks. It’s an ogre, and he’s got some sort of animated stone construct with him. We…”
Abruptly, Pez’ words were cut off as the platform lurched into motion, rapidly sinking into the shaft with him on it. The platform was already twenty feet down before the others realized what was happening. “Come on!” Tilly cried, and he leaped out into the void. He attempted to cushion his landing by rolling with it, but in his current, clumsy state, he fell in a heap, turning his ankle as he hit.
Salazar followed and was able to land nimbly in a crouch. He rolled to the side as he heard a dwarven curse from above, and just narrowly avoided the hurtling missile that was the armored priest as he struck the wooden platform with the force of a hammer.
The companions gathered themselves and drew their weapons, knowing they had lost the element of surprise and would likely be in for the fight of their lives. “We may still have a chance,” Sal said. He removed the glowing circlet that he wore around his head, which had provided light for the group since being enchanted by Jenya with an ever-burning flame. He flung it to the far side of the platform, creating an area of shadow on the near side. “Everyone stand out of the light. Be as quiet as you can, and don’t move until you have no choice. We may be able to salvage a bit of advantage.”
Xukasus waited. He had opened the hidden door in the shaft and entered the control room for the elevator. Triggering it, he hoped, would either crush his prey, or bring it back down to him. If nothing else, he would ride the platform back up and hunt the little morsel down room by room. Now, he crouched within the darkness of the little room, gazing out into the gloom, waiting for the platform to arrive. His sharp eyes could see in total darkness, and he could pick out the form of his pet across the way, standing in the doorway and blocking the only way out.
The elevator platform settled to the floor with a bump. Immediately, the companions could see outlined in the light, the lumpy stone shape standing in the doorway. Pez also noted the new opening on the far side of the room, but could see only darkness within.
Tilly, however, saw something else…a hulking shape crouched in hiding, waiting to spring. He opened his mouth to shout a warning, but at that moment, the construct charged.
Sal forced himself to wait for the last possible moment. Despite his attempt to hide, the stone creature seemed to arrow right for him. It’s massive arms drew back to strike, but just as they fell, the rogue deftly tumbled to the side and behind it, his blade striking a glancing blow as he passed.
At the same moment, Xukasus erupted from his concealment. Shouting in fury, he rushed for Pez, picking his now solid quarry out from among the shadows. Pez knew that it was no use hiding any more, and he raced forward, meeting the ogre head on. “For Tyr!” he cried as the two collided, their blades ringing together. For a brief moment, Pez held his ground against the onslaught, but then the giant’s strength overwhelmed him. The huge falchion crashed down, crushing the archon’s shoulder plate, and biting into the flesh beneath.
Rusty and Salazar both saw that Pez was in trouble. The priest moved first, attempting to rush in beneath the giant’s reach, but he was stopped cold by a kick from the ogre’s tree-trunk sized leg.
Sal used the distraction to move to a flanking position behind Xukasus, but as he did, he momentarily forgot about his other opponent. The statue swung its club-like arm with deadly accuracy, hammering Sal between the shoulders. Sal felt his lungs gasping for air, but he managed to keep his feet and ducked quickly into the elevator control room.
Pez staggered under the blow from the ogre. He reeled backwards, putting his back to the wall of the shaft, and bringing his sword up in a defensive crouch. Xukasus stalked in, grinning broadly, his tusks dripping in anticipation. He lifted his blade high above his head, and brought it down squarely towards Pez’ upraised sword, but at the last minute, he reversed his blow, instead turning it into a slash towards the warriors midsection. Pez saw the feint a fraction of a second too late. The falchion sliced deeply into his abdomen, hurling him against the wall. The archon’s vision grew dark, and he slumped to the floor in a growing pool of blood.
As Xukasus moved to pursue Pez, his companion followed Sal. The rogue backed cautiously away from the approaching monolith. He saw there was no way out of this room…just a lever jutting from the far wall. He reached into his pack, and drew forth the spiked length of chain he kept inside. As the statue approached, Sal whipped the chain out, wrapping it around the base of the column. With a tremendous jerk, he managed to topple the thing completely over. Now was his chance, he could leap past it and back into the shaft chamber. However, just as he made his move, the statue heaved itself up again, and slammed one of its spiked arms into Sal’s chest. The rogue staggered back, but before he could recover, another blow crashed into his skull.
Tilly watched in horror as events unfolded. He had tried to help his friends, but he wasn’t quick enough. His clumsiness made his attempts slow and easily avoidable. He had been forced to retreat time and again, and now the ogre was turning its attention to him. Across the room, he saw Rusty backing up as the statue exited the room it had chased Sal into, its arms dripping blood and gore. Not Sal, he thought, not Sal.
“Tis no use lad!” Rusty shouted to him, “We’re done fer. I’ll hold’em off best I can. Run fer it!”
Tilly dashed between the ogre’s legs as it tried to swing for him. He raced past the statue and into the control room. He had a last, desperate idea. “Rusty!” he cried, “Come on! In here…quickly!”
The dwarf retreated, step by step towards Tilly, his shield deflecting blow after blow from the construct. He was almost to the door, and turned to dive in, but at the final moment, the stone statue landed a solid blow across his lower spine. He crumpled to the floor of the platform, inches away from Tilly’s outstretched hand, unmoving.
Tilly saw both the ogre and the statue now moving for him. With a wail of despair, he slammed the door to the control room shut, and rushed towards the lever on the far wall. His heart quailed as he saw the bloody form of Sal lying on the floor beneath it. He couldn’t grieve for his friend now, there was no time. He grabbed the lever just as he heard the door smash behind him, and threw it up. He heard the gears engage, as the platform rose into the shaft, carrying his assailants away…but also Pez and Rusty.
The company stood staring at the elevator platform, certain that this path would lead them to their goal, but at the same time quite uncertain of the consequences of reaching that destination.
Pez spoke first, “If we are going deeper, we are sure to be encountering far greater dangers than we have already. One of us should return to the temple and inform Jenya of our status. She should be aware of our last known location should we fail.”
Oso glanced sharply at the holy warrior, “I will go. I have no love of these deep places. I feel confined, closed in. I will tell Jenya what has occurred thus far, but know this…if you do not return, I will come in search of you. I swear this to you.”
Before the others could protest, the ranger turned on his heel and disappeared into the darkness.
Pez looked around at his remaining companions, quietly gauging their resolve. “Our descent on this platform will not be a quiet one. If the fortress below has been forewarned of our approach, we could very well be walking into a trap. I will go ahead and scout the area. You three wait here, and I shall come back swiftly.”
“Now just a minute!” Salazar protested, “How are you going to scout any quieter than the rest of us? Tilly and I are somewhat more familiar with infiltration, if you know what I mean. If we lose you, we’ve lost our best swordsman. I don’t think we should split up.”
“Trust me,” Pez said quietly, “I have abilities beyond your comprehension.” As if in proof, the elf’s body began to dissolve into a misty vapor that still bore the general outline of Pez, but no substance. The cloud then flowed through the central hole of the platform, and out of sight.
“Blast him!” Rusty spat, “I’m guessin’ he don’t recall what happened the last time he went scoutin’.”
Pez flew silently down the darkened shaft, deeper and deeper into the earth. After a while, the walls of the shaft turned from bare gray stone to polished black malachite. It took the archon several minutes to reach the bottom, which he guessed to be some two hundred feet below the chamber in which his friends waited.
The room at the bottom was completely bare. He could see the chains attached to a pulley mechanism on the floor, and then rising up into the darkness. A single, iron reinforced door seemed to be the only exit.
Pez drifted over to the door, and then slipped soundlessly under the crack beneath. Beyond he found himself in a large hallway, its ceiling rising to an apex some twenty feet above. The floor, walls and ceiling were all composed of smooth, black stone. Two cylindrical, iron cages dangled from the ceiling by iron chains, one nearby and the other some forty feet further down the passage.
A strange sculpture stood in the middle of the hall between the two cages. It seemed to be a five-foot tall column of roughly hewn gray stone covered with sharp protrusions. Four crystal-tipped appendages jutted from the stony mass, each one pointing in a different direction. Some sort of guidepost, Pez assumed. He flew on down the corridor, past the statue and the cages. Ahead, the hall seemed to reach a dead-end. Another iron-reinforced door stood closed to his left.
Again, he sank down to the level of the floor and flowed easily beneath the portal. Instantly he was assailed by a putrid stench. The room he had entered was splattered wall-to-wall with filth, bile, bones and other disgusting remains. No furniture was present, per se, but some of the older refuse had hardened into a crude chair. Seated on this dung throne was a large, gangly creature. It would be at least nine feet tall standing, Pez estimated. It was dressed in a boiled, hide breast piece, and a great, curved falchion rested across its knees. Large yellow tusks protruded from its undershot jaw, and its red-rimmed, yellow eyes immediately focused on Pez.
Xukasus was bored, and he was irritated…not a good combination. His boredom stemmed from the fact that he was charged by Kazmojen to stand guard over this approach to the fortress, and to oversee the hobgoblins as well, neither of which was particularly challenging. After all, the only ones who ever came down the shaft were those miserable skulks or the hairy little creepers. True, they often had a slave shipment with them, but he wasn’t even allowed to sample those wares. They were strictly off-limits.
His irritation was due to the fact that he grew more and more weary of this form he was forced to wear. You see, Xukasus was not the ogre that he appeared to be. He was, in fact, an otyugh, a creature that revels in filth and debris. He had been seeking a particularly tasty bit of decaying refuse in the gnome enclave above, when he had triggered one of their blasted traps. He found himself instantly transformed into his current guise. Kazmojen had found him thus, and had promised to find a way to restore him if he agreed to serve the slaver. So, here he sat, day after day with nothing to break the tedium and monotony…until now.
At first, Xukasus did not know what to make of the misty cloud seeping under his door, but as it assumed a humanoid shape, he recalled that a few days ago one of those sneaking skulks had come down the shaft in a panic, claiming there were intruders above. Xukasus had dismissed the rantings as more of the paranoia that the skulks were so noted for, but is seemed now that they were telling the truth. How fortunate for him. He lurched to his feet, bringing his falchion up above his head, “Fresh carrion for my larder! Very nice!”
Pez knew he was in trouble. The gaseous form he had assumed was fine for unobtrusive spying, but totally unsuited for combat. He could bring none of his weapons or abilities to bear, nor could he move particularly fast. As the ogre’s sword came whistling down, he quickly zipped back under the doorway, and began moving up the hallway as quickly as he could.
The door behind him slammed open and the ogre came roaring into the passage. “You can run, but you can’t hide! Xukasus hungers, and his appetite won’t wait!”
Pez tried to move faster, but the giant was gaining. He had just passed the guidepost, when he was given a second shock as the statue began to move!
The statue’s base began sliding across the floor towards Pez, and its spiked appendages began swinging in large, deadly arcs.
“You see,” the ogre cried, “My little pet has a surprise for you! Hawr, hawr, hawr!”
Pez could tell that he wouldn’t make it to the elevator shaft in time. Thinking quickly, he darted between the bars of the cage which hung nearby, hoping for a brief respite to gather his wits.
The ogre roared in frustration, and began shaking the cage with one great hand. The lock held fast and Xukasus’ huge fingers could not fit between the bars. Enraged, the giant drew back with his falchion and began hacking at the iron bars. On the other side, the stone statue was also raining blow after blow against the cage.
Pez knew his time was running out. He could see the cage bars starting to buckle. He waited for just the right moment, when both of his opponents were winding up for another blow, and then he quickly flowed through the bars on the back side of the cage, and made a break for the door. He made it beneath, and managed to fly several feet up the shaft before the ogre threw the door open and charged inside, his stone pet right behind.
“Get down here and fight!” Xukasus raged, shaking his fist at his escaping prey.
“Not just now, thanks,” Pez taunted back, “Perhaps another time, when you’re not so busy. Good hunting to you!” With that, he soared back up the shaft, the shouts and curses of the ogre diminishing in the distance.
Several minutes later, Sal, Tilly and Rusty breathed easier as they saw the misty form of Pez reappear on the platform. As quickly as he had dissolved, the warrior now solidified back to his normal form. “We’ve got trouble,” he began, “The approach is guarded, and not just by a few lowly skulks. It’s an ogre, and he’s got some sort of animated stone construct with him. We…”
Abruptly, Pez’ words were cut off as the platform lurched into motion, rapidly sinking into the shaft with him on it. The platform was already twenty feet down before the others realized what was happening. “Come on!” Tilly cried, and he leaped out into the void. He attempted to cushion his landing by rolling with it, but in his current, clumsy state, he fell in a heap, turning his ankle as he hit.
Salazar followed and was able to land nimbly in a crouch. He rolled to the side as he heard a dwarven curse from above, and just narrowly avoided the hurtling missile that was the armored priest as he struck the wooden platform with the force of a hammer.
The companions gathered themselves and drew their weapons, knowing they had lost the element of surprise and would likely be in for the fight of their lives. “We may still have a chance,” Sal said. He removed the glowing circlet that he wore around his head, which had provided light for the group since being enchanted by Jenya with an ever-burning flame. He flung it to the far side of the platform, creating an area of shadow on the near side. “Everyone stand out of the light. Be as quiet as you can, and don’t move until you have no choice. We may be able to salvage a bit of advantage.”
Xukasus waited. He had opened the hidden door in the shaft and entered the control room for the elevator. Triggering it, he hoped, would either crush his prey, or bring it back down to him. If nothing else, he would ride the platform back up and hunt the little morsel down room by room. Now, he crouched within the darkness of the little room, gazing out into the gloom, waiting for the platform to arrive. His sharp eyes could see in total darkness, and he could pick out the form of his pet across the way, standing in the doorway and blocking the only way out.
The elevator platform settled to the floor with a bump. Immediately, the companions could see outlined in the light, the lumpy stone shape standing in the doorway. Pez also noted the new opening on the far side of the room, but could see only darkness within.
Tilly, however, saw something else…a hulking shape crouched in hiding, waiting to spring. He opened his mouth to shout a warning, but at that moment, the construct charged.
Sal forced himself to wait for the last possible moment. Despite his attempt to hide, the stone creature seemed to arrow right for him. It’s massive arms drew back to strike, but just as they fell, the rogue deftly tumbled to the side and behind it, his blade striking a glancing blow as he passed.
At the same moment, Xukasus erupted from his concealment. Shouting in fury, he rushed for Pez, picking his now solid quarry out from among the shadows. Pez knew that it was no use hiding any more, and he raced forward, meeting the ogre head on. “For Tyr!” he cried as the two collided, their blades ringing together. For a brief moment, Pez held his ground against the onslaught, but then the giant’s strength overwhelmed him. The huge falchion crashed down, crushing the archon’s shoulder plate, and biting into the flesh beneath.
Rusty and Salazar both saw that Pez was in trouble. The priest moved first, attempting to rush in beneath the giant’s reach, but he was stopped cold by a kick from the ogre’s tree-trunk sized leg.
Sal used the distraction to move to a flanking position behind Xukasus, but as he did, he momentarily forgot about his other opponent. The statue swung its club-like arm with deadly accuracy, hammering Sal between the shoulders. Sal felt his lungs gasping for air, but he managed to keep his feet and ducked quickly into the elevator control room.
Pez staggered under the blow from the ogre. He reeled backwards, putting his back to the wall of the shaft, and bringing his sword up in a defensive crouch. Xukasus stalked in, grinning broadly, his tusks dripping in anticipation. He lifted his blade high above his head, and brought it down squarely towards Pez’ upraised sword, but at the last minute, he reversed his blow, instead turning it into a slash towards the warriors midsection. Pez saw the feint a fraction of a second too late. The falchion sliced deeply into his abdomen, hurling him against the wall. The archon’s vision grew dark, and he slumped to the floor in a growing pool of blood.
As Xukasus moved to pursue Pez, his companion followed Sal. The rogue backed cautiously away from the approaching monolith. He saw there was no way out of this room…just a lever jutting from the far wall. He reached into his pack, and drew forth the spiked length of chain he kept inside. As the statue approached, Sal whipped the chain out, wrapping it around the base of the column. With a tremendous jerk, he managed to topple the thing completely over. Now was his chance, he could leap past it and back into the shaft chamber. However, just as he made his move, the statue heaved itself up again, and slammed one of its spiked arms into Sal’s chest. The rogue staggered back, but before he could recover, another blow crashed into his skull.
Tilly watched in horror as events unfolded. He had tried to help his friends, but he wasn’t quick enough. His clumsiness made his attempts slow and easily avoidable. He had been forced to retreat time and again, and now the ogre was turning its attention to him. Across the room, he saw Rusty backing up as the statue exited the room it had chased Sal into, its arms dripping blood and gore. Not Sal, he thought, not Sal.
“Tis no use lad!” Rusty shouted to him, “We’re done fer. I’ll hold’em off best I can. Run fer it!”
Tilly dashed between the ogre’s legs as it tried to swing for him. He raced past the statue and into the control room. He had a last, desperate idea. “Rusty!” he cried, “Come on! In here…quickly!”
The dwarf retreated, step by step towards Tilly, his shield deflecting blow after blow from the construct. He was almost to the door, and turned to dive in, but at the final moment, the stone statue landed a solid blow across his lower spine. He crumpled to the floor of the platform, inches away from Tilly’s outstretched hand, unmoving.
Tilly saw both the ogre and the statue now moving for him. With a wail of despair, he slammed the door to the control room shut, and rushed towards the lever on the far wall. His heart quailed as he saw the bloody form of Sal lying on the floor beneath it. He couldn’t grieve for his friend now, there was no time. He grabbed the lever just as he heard the door smash behind him, and threw it up. He heard the gears engage, as the platform rose into the shaft, carrying his assailants away…but also Pez and Rusty.
JollyDoc
Explorer
Lela said:
Don't be so quick to discount our intrepid group. As I said earlier, only one actually died. The fate of the others remains to be seen. As for the how, well, die rolling on their part had a lot to do with it. Xukasus had an AC of 21, and not one of the party members was able to hit him, mostly through low rolling. The stone spike (the statue), had a fairly low AC, but did significant damage.
Two significant events: Pez took a critical hit from Xukasus, which reduced him to neg 1 hp.
Salazar took one hit from the stone spike, which staggered him...0hp. If he had gone negative, the spike would have left alone, but because he was still standing at 0, it hit him again, and took him below neg 10.
After that, it was all over but the screaming.
JollyDoc
Explorer
LAST MAN (OR IS IT HALFLING?) STANDING
Tilly leaned heavily against the lever, listening as the elevator platform climbed higher up the shaft and the angry curses of the ogre retreated. He closed his eyes and took a moment to catch his breath. He couldn’t believe how terribly wrong everything had gone. Could he really be the only one left alive?
Opening his eyes, he looked down where Salazar lay at his feet. “I’m truly sorry old friend,” he whispered. The grief he felt was stronger than he would have imagined. Sal had been his business associate, true, but also his best friend, and on more than one occasion, his savior. Still, Tilly was a pragmatist and a survivor. He knew that he couldn’t stay here. Once the platform reached the top of the shaft, the ogre would simply come back down again. He would have gained nothing. He had to get out of here.
He reached inside Sal’s tunic and retrieved the flat keys that where hidden there. He would need them if he ever made it back to Jzadirune. Wishing his fellow rogue good speed on his final journey, the halfling limped back out into the deserted shaft, and then into the hallway beyond.
Tilly made his way quietly down the corridor, not hearing another sound and seeing no one else living. He passed the open door to Xukasus’ chamber, but after a quick glance inside showed no other exit, he passed by the noisome lair.
Abruptly, the passage came to a dead-end. Tilly leaned his head against the blank wall in frustration. He was trapped. What would he do now? He couldn’t hide forever. The ogre would surely track him down eventually. No…there had to be a way out. The ogre had to enter the rest of the fortress by some means. Tilly began running his hands over the malachite surface, searching for hidden seams or cracks. Finally, at the very base of the wall, he spied a hairline fracture in the otherwise pristine stone. He traced it inch by inch until he determined that it formed a regular, rectangular outline. At one edge he found that a small, circular piece of the wall could be depressed. He pushed it once, and immediately the section swung outward.
The large chamber beyond the secret door was dimly lit by a stone brazier in each corner, carved in the likeness of an ovoid creature with three stubby legs, three eyes, and three spindly arms spaced equidistantly around its pebbly body. A dark, pungent haze filled the room due to the smoke rising from the flames.
Great pairs of iron doors were set into opposite facing walls, and the pair to the northwest was sealed with a heavy, iron bar. A large stone stature of a dwarven warrior stood before the southeast set of doors. The dwarf stared blankly forward, two glistening black gems embedded in his eyes, a spiked helmet resting atop his formidable brow. His armor bore graven glyphs, and a shield was slung over his back. His stony gauntlets rested on the handle of a greataxe etched with fiery patterns, its head planted firmly on the floor. Draped over the statue was a mass of iron chains ending in nasty barbs, spikes, hooks and blades. Some of them were coiled around the statue’s arms and legs. However, what immediately drew Tilly's attention was the pair of hobgoblins flanking each set of doors. As soon as they saw the hidden door open, they turned, drew their swords, and rushed towards the frightened halfling.
Tilly knew this was the end. He was badly wounded, he couldn’t run, and he had no hope of standing against four fresh warriors. He braced himself, blades in hand. If he had to go, it wouldn’t be without a fight. It seemed he would be seeing Salazar again after all.
Suddenly, he heard a voice behind him, “Psst! Here! Quickly!”
He turned and saw that a previously blank section of the corridor, just beyond Xukasus’ chamber, was now open. Standing just outside of the opening were two young men. The first was rather pale, with crisp blue eyes and silky blonde hair pulled back in three braids, while the second was tanned with bright green eyes and curly black hair. Both bore elven blood, as evidenced by the slight point to their ears. They wore leather armor and had shortbows in hand.
Tilly wasted no time looking a gift horse in the mouth. He might very well be rushing from one bad situation to another, but given his choices this seemed like the better option. He slammed the door closed just as the hobgoblins were in striking distance. He then limped as quickly as his injured leg would allow towards his would-be saviors.
Just then, the door behind him burst open and the hobgoblins poured out. Instantly the bows of the half-elves sang out. The foremost of the pursuers dropped with two arrows sprouting from his chest.
Tilly reached the relative safety of the hidden passage just as the remaining three hobgoblins closed the distance. The half-elves dropped their bows and drew longswords from their scabbards.
One hobgoblin engaged each of Tilly’s newfound friends, and both managed to penetrate the defenses of the half-breeds. They fell back towards Tilly, favoring deep gashes. The third hobgoblin tried to circle around towards Tilly himself. The halfling knew that he had to try and help. It would do him no good if these fine young gentlemen were killed while attempting to rescue him.
The little rogue gripped his blades tightly, and waited for the hobgoblin to rush in. As he did, Tilly ducked clumsily under an equally clumsy strike. He came up on the creature’s left side, where he firmly embedded one blade in its abdomen, and the other between its ribs. The hobgoblin wheezed and collapsed heavily to the floor.
As Tilly turned to assist the half-elves, he saw that they already had the situation well in hand. The other two hobgoblins lay in a heap. “Come on,” the blonde one said, “help us drag them inside. The elevator is returning.” Indeed, Tilly could now hear the platform beginning its descent.
The trio dragged the bodies of the hobgoblins into the concealed hallway, and pulled the door tightly shut. Tilly then collapsed to the floor, breathing heavily.
“You’re wounded,” the dark-haired youth said, bending to examine the rogue’s injuries. He laid his hands flat against the cuts and began chanting quietly. Soon, his fingers glowed with a soft yellow light, and Tilly could feel his pain ease as his lacerations began to seal shut.
“You’re a priest!” he gasped.
“More of a devotee you could say,” the man replied. “Perhaps some brief introductions are in order. I am Fellian Shard, and my partner in crime here is Fario Ellegoth.”
“Fellian and Fario,” Tilly mused for a moment, then his eyes brightened in comprehension, “Ah! You two are the other investigators that Gretchyn spoke of. The two that came to the orphanage after the Lord Mayor’s men.”
“The same,” Fellian said, “but as you have probably surmised, we do not work for the Lord Mayor. We are looking for a friend…a wizard by the name of Elethor Ashstaff. He was abducted about three weeks ago from his home. We thought that the kidnappings at the orphanage might be related. Then we learned that you and your friends had been hired as investigators by the church of Tyr. We thought by following you, we might find information about Elethor’s whereabouts. Unfortunately, we seemed to have gotten a bit ahead of you, and found our way down here. We had just discovered this passage when your comrade made his ghostly appearance and alerted the ogre. I’m sorry we couldn’t be of more assistance during the battle, but I’m afraid that one is a bit out of our league.”
“Well, I guess in hindsight, I’d have to agree with you there,” Tilly said glumly, “He was certainly out of ours. Speaking of which, do you two have a plan for getting out of here? I’m sure he’s not just going to let us pass by saying please.”
“Funny you should ask…” Fario grinned.
The trio waited several long minutes, hoping to give the ogre time to pass by and, with any luck, move on to check his hobgoblin lackeys. Then, both of the half-elves drew small flasks from their belts. Each took a sip, and promptly faded from view. Tilly then felt a flask pushed into his hand. Following their example, he drank quickly and vanished as well. He saw the secret entrance to the passage open a crack, and then heard Fario’s sharp intake of breath. “Run!” he shouted, and the door was thrown open wide.
Tilly heard footsteps running into the hall, and as he hurried to the doorway, he saw why. The statue was back in place in the center of the corridor, and it had noticed the door opening and was heading his way. Tilly bolted to the right, towards the door to the elevator shaft at the end of the passage. The statue heard him a fraction too late, swinging its stone arms wildly about, but connecting with nothing.
Tilly rushed onto the platform, slamming the door behind him. “Brace yourself,” Fario’s voice said from nearby, “Going up!” The elevator lurched into motion, clanking inexorably upward. “Where’s Fellian?” Tilly shouted over the noise. “Don’t worry about him,” Fario answered, “He’ll meet us at the top.”
Sure enough, when the platform reached Jzadirune again, Fellian was there. He offered no explanation of how he’d managed it, and Tilly felt it best not to pry. The three of them made their way quickly back through the deserted ruins, and up to Keygan’s shop. “Here is where we part company, little friend,” Fellian said as they stepped out into the street. “What will you do now?”
“I’m going back to the temple to report our failure,” Tilly said in resignation, but then his face hardened, “Then I’m coming back here. I’m going down there to find out what happened to Pez and Rusty. I owe them both my life, and if there is any chance they are still alive, then I’m going to help them.”
“Brave sentiments,” Fario laughed, “Foolish, but brave. Well, since we still haven’t found Elethor, I imagine we will be returning as well. Meet us here in the morning, and we will accompany you…at least until our paths part.” Tilly nodded in agreement, thankful for the offer. He shook hands with his newfound friends and then turned for home.
Tilly leaned heavily against the lever, listening as the elevator platform climbed higher up the shaft and the angry curses of the ogre retreated. He closed his eyes and took a moment to catch his breath. He couldn’t believe how terribly wrong everything had gone. Could he really be the only one left alive?
Opening his eyes, he looked down where Salazar lay at his feet. “I’m truly sorry old friend,” he whispered. The grief he felt was stronger than he would have imagined. Sal had been his business associate, true, but also his best friend, and on more than one occasion, his savior. Still, Tilly was a pragmatist and a survivor. He knew that he couldn’t stay here. Once the platform reached the top of the shaft, the ogre would simply come back down again. He would have gained nothing. He had to get out of here.
He reached inside Sal’s tunic and retrieved the flat keys that where hidden there. He would need them if he ever made it back to Jzadirune. Wishing his fellow rogue good speed on his final journey, the halfling limped back out into the deserted shaft, and then into the hallway beyond.
Tilly made his way quietly down the corridor, not hearing another sound and seeing no one else living. He passed the open door to Xukasus’ chamber, but after a quick glance inside showed no other exit, he passed by the noisome lair.
Abruptly, the passage came to a dead-end. Tilly leaned his head against the blank wall in frustration. He was trapped. What would he do now? He couldn’t hide forever. The ogre would surely track him down eventually. No…there had to be a way out. The ogre had to enter the rest of the fortress by some means. Tilly began running his hands over the malachite surface, searching for hidden seams or cracks. Finally, at the very base of the wall, he spied a hairline fracture in the otherwise pristine stone. He traced it inch by inch until he determined that it formed a regular, rectangular outline. At one edge he found that a small, circular piece of the wall could be depressed. He pushed it once, and immediately the section swung outward.
The large chamber beyond the secret door was dimly lit by a stone brazier in each corner, carved in the likeness of an ovoid creature with three stubby legs, three eyes, and three spindly arms spaced equidistantly around its pebbly body. A dark, pungent haze filled the room due to the smoke rising from the flames.
Great pairs of iron doors were set into opposite facing walls, and the pair to the northwest was sealed with a heavy, iron bar. A large stone stature of a dwarven warrior stood before the southeast set of doors. The dwarf stared blankly forward, two glistening black gems embedded in his eyes, a spiked helmet resting atop his formidable brow. His armor bore graven glyphs, and a shield was slung over his back. His stony gauntlets rested on the handle of a greataxe etched with fiery patterns, its head planted firmly on the floor. Draped over the statue was a mass of iron chains ending in nasty barbs, spikes, hooks and blades. Some of them were coiled around the statue’s arms and legs. However, what immediately drew Tilly's attention was the pair of hobgoblins flanking each set of doors. As soon as they saw the hidden door open, they turned, drew their swords, and rushed towards the frightened halfling.
Tilly knew this was the end. He was badly wounded, he couldn’t run, and he had no hope of standing against four fresh warriors. He braced himself, blades in hand. If he had to go, it wouldn’t be without a fight. It seemed he would be seeing Salazar again after all.
Suddenly, he heard a voice behind him, “Psst! Here! Quickly!”
He turned and saw that a previously blank section of the corridor, just beyond Xukasus’ chamber, was now open. Standing just outside of the opening were two young men. The first was rather pale, with crisp blue eyes and silky blonde hair pulled back in three braids, while the second was tanned with bright green eyes and curly black hair. Both bore elven blood, as evidenced by the slight point to their ears. They wore leather armor and had shortbows in hand.
Tilly wasted no time looking a gift horse in the mouth. He might very well be rushing from one bad situation to another, but given his choices this seemed like the better option. He slammed the door closed just as the hobgoblins were in striking distance. He then limped as quickly as his injured leg would allow towards his would-be saviors.
Just then, the door behind him burst open and the hobgoblins poured out. Instantly the bows of the half-elves sang out. The foremost of the pursuers dropped with two arrows sprouting from his chest.
Tilly reached the relative safety of the hidden passage just as the remaining three hobgoblins closed the distance. The half-elves dropped their bows and drew longswords from their scabbards.
One hobgoblin engaged each of Tilly’s newfound friends, and both managed to penetrate the defenses of the half-breeds. They fell back towards Tilly, favoring deep gashes. The third hobgoblin tried to circle around towards Tilly himself. The halfling knew that he had to try and help. It would do him no good if these fine young gentlemen were killed while attempting to rescue him.
The little rogue gripped his blades tightly, and waited for the hobgoblin to rush in. As he did, Tilly ducked clumsily under an equally clumsy strike. He came up on the creature’s left side, where he firmly embedded one blade in its abdomen, and the other between its ribs. The hobgoblin wheezed and collapsed heavily to the floor.
As Tilly turned to assist the half-elves, he saw that they already had the situation well in hand. The other two hobgoblins lay in a heap. “Come on,” the blonde one said, “help us drag them inside. The elevator is returning.” Indeed, Tilly could now hear the platform beginning its descent.
The trio dragged the bodies of the hobgoblins into the concealed hallway, and pulled the door tightly shut. Tilly then collapsed to the floor, breathing heavily.
“You’re wounded,” the dark-haired youth said, bending to examine the rogue’s injuries. He laid his hands flat against the cuts and began chanting quietly. Soon, his fingers glowed with a soft yellow light, and Tilly could feel his pain ease as his lacerations began to seal shut.
“You’re a priest!” he gasped.
“More of a devotee you could say,” the man replied. “Perhaps some brief introductions are in order. I am Fellian Shard, and my partner in crime here is Fario Ellegoth.”
“Fellian and Fario,” Tilly mused for a moment, then his eyes brightened in comprehension, “Ah! You two are the other investigators that Gretchyn spoke of. The two that came to the orphanage after the Lord Mayor’s men.”
“The same,” Fellian said, “but as you have probably surmised, we do not work for the Lord Mayor. We are looking for a friend…a wizard by the name of Elethor Ashstaff. He was abducted about three weeks ago from his home. We thought that the kidnappings at the orphanage might be related. Then we learned that you and your friends had been hired as investigators by the church of Tyr. We thought by following you, we might find information about Elethor’s whereabouts. Unfortunately, we seemed to have gotten a bit ahead of you, and found our way down here. We had just discovered this passage when your comrade made his ghostly appearance and alerted the ogre. I’m sorry we couldn’t be of more assistance during the battle, but I’m afraid that one is a bit out of our league.”
“Well, I guess in hindsight, I’d have to agree with you there,” Tilly said glumly, “He was certainly out of ours. Speaking of which, do you two have a plan for getting out of here? I’m sure he’s not just going to let us pass by saying please.”
“Funny you should ask…” Fario grinned.
The trio waited several long minutes, hoping to give the ogre time to pass by and, with any luck, move on to check his hobgoblin lackeys. Then, both of the half-elves drew small flasks from their belts. Each took a sip, and promptly faded from view. Tilly then felt a flask pushed into his hand. Following their example, he drank quickly and vanished as well. He saw the secret entrance to the passage open a crack, and then heard Fario’s sharp intake of breath. “Run!” he shouted, and the door was thrown open wide.
Tilly heard footsteps running into the hall, and as he hurried to the doorway, he saw why. The statue was back in place in the center of the corridor, and it had noticed the door opening and was heading his way. Tilly bolted to the right, towards the door to the elevator shaft at the end of the passage. The statue heard him a fraction too late, swinging its stone arms wildly about, but connecting with nothing.
Tilly rushed onto the platform, slamming the door behind him. “Brace yourself,” Fario’s voice said from nearby, “Going up!” The elevator lurched into motion, clanking inexorably upward. “Where’s Fellian?” Tilly shouted over the noise. “Don’t worry about him,” Fario answered, “He’ll meet us at the top.”
Sure enough, when the platform reached Jzadirune again, Fellian was there. He offered no explanation of how he’d managed it, and Tilly felt it best not to pry. The three of them made their way quickly back through the deserted ruins, and up to Keygan’s shop. “Here is where we part company, little friend,” Fellian said as they stepped out into the street. “What will you do now?”
“I’m going back to the temple to report our failure,” Tilly said in resignation, but then his face hardened, “Then I’m coming back here. I’m going down there to find out what happened to Pez and Rusty. I owe them both my life, and if there is any chance they are still alive, then I’m going to help them.”
“Brave sentiments,” Fario laughed, “Foolish, but brave. Well, since we still haven’t found Elethor, I imagine we will be returning as well. Meet us here in the morning, and we will accompany you…at least until our paths part.” Tilly nodded in agreement, thankful for the offer. He shook hands with his newfound friends and then turned for home.
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