JollyDoc's Shackled City
Neverwinter Knight
First Post
We are excited !!! Very nice update, JollyDoc. Your SH (along a few others) has become my replacement for DnD (how sad - I know 
). So I'm very happy the group was able to finish off that dungeon, no loose ends there.
And I hope Gardrig's new goal will NOT cost him his life. I have grown very fond of that battlerager, and I think so has the rest of the audience.
). So I'm very happy the group was able to finish off that dungeon, no loose ends there.And I hope Gardrig's new goal will NOT cost him his life. I have grown very fond of that battlerager, and I think so has the rest of the audience.
JollyDoc
Explorer
Neverwinter Knight said:We are excited !!! Very nice update, JollyDoc. Your SH (along a few others) has become my replacement for DnD (how sad - I know
And I hope Gardrig's new goal will NOT cost him his life. I have grown very fond of that battlerager, and I think so has the rest of the audience.
I'm pleased to be able to satisfy part of your D&D jones, NWK...God knows I'd be at loose ends if our game ended (I think GFunk would just hang himself).
Anyway, fear not, as of this posting, Gardrid is still alive and well, though how long he stays that way will depend on when his "bashi in the door" mentality finally puts him up against something even nastier tempered than himself.
JollyDoc
Explorer
OSO’S LAST STAND
Pez returned to consciousness slowly and painfully. Every muscle and bone in his body ached and felt bruised. His only solace was that, to his surprise, he was lying in a comfortable bed in a quiet room with soft sunlight spilling through an open window.
He recognized that he was back in the temple, but he had no recollection of how that happened. The last thing he recalled was the desperate flight from the Malachite Fortress, and then nothing. He could only assume that his companions escaped as well.
He levered himself to a sitting position, and peered about the chamber. His wounds were all cleaned and dressed, including the trauma to his wing from the javelin he took. Reflexively, he looked for his belongings, but then he recalled that they had been stripped from him when he was captured, and they had not been able to recover them.
Then his eye caught something in the corner. It appeared to be a gleaming, beautifully crafted greatsword. Pez’ breath caught for a moment. Could it be? He climbed painfully to his feet, and moved to the weapon. He wrapped his hand around the hilt, and then closed his eyes and concentrated. When he opened them again, he felt his heart swell, for where the sword had been, he now held a four-foot long silver trumpet! His badge of office…it had been returned to him! He could sense that its power was only a fraction of what it once was, but it was here. This could only mean that he was slowly finding favor again in the Great Court.
At that moment, he heard the door open behind him, and he instantly willed the horn back into sword form. He wasn’t ready to share this revelation just yet, and besides, his terms of servitude precluded that.
He turned and saw Ruphus standing with a tray of food. “Ah! You are awake my friend. You had us quite worried. It has been three days now since we retrieved you here.”
“Three days?” Pez asked incredulously, “What of the others? Are they safe? The children?”
“Yes, yes,” Ruphus nodded, placing the tray on the bedside table, “the others are well, though Rustifarius is gravely injured. He lingers still in unconsciousness. The High Priestess tends him daily. We treated the wounds of Tilly, Oso and Gardrid, and they have been by regularly to check on you and Rusty. The children and the other prisoners are doing as well as can be expected. Some wounds go deeper than the flesh. We are saddened that there were not more to be found.”
“What of Terrem?” Pez asked, “Did Tilly tell you of the eye tyrant?”
Ruphus looked puzzled, “Yes, he told us the whole story. It is strange, and I am afraid that Jenya doesn’t know what to make of it. Terrem was returned to the orphanage the same day that your group came back. A tall woman in a black veil brought him to the door, according to Gretchyn. She left without a word, and the boy said nothing of his ordeal, but he seems no worse for wear.”
Pez remained quiet. This was a puzzle indeed, and one that bore further investigation to be sure…
_____________________________________________
A few days later, Pez’ strength had fully returned, and he was reunited with his friends within the inner courtyard of the temple. All were present, except Rusty, whose injuries were still too severe to allow him out of bed. Jenya and Ruphus were dressed in formal habits, and all of the other priests and acolytes were gathered to bear witness.
“We are brought together today to honor and thank these brave souls,” Jenya began, “who have risked, and lost, life and limb to undo a great injustice. Through their actions, an insidious web of slavery and murder has been undone, and the lives of many innocent folk have been spared. We are eternally grateful.”
The priestess then held forth a large sack, which jingled and clinked enticingly, “As promised, five-thousand gold galleons for services rendered.” She next produced four small amulets in the shape of a hammer, and tied with a blue cord. One of these she placed around the neck of each of the heroes. “The Order of the Hammer,” she intoned, “an honor bestowed upon those who have performed above and beyond the call of duty in the name of the Lord of Justice. We shall bestow the same upon Rustifarius when he has sufficiently recovered, and we shall lay one final medallion upon the memorial shrine erected for Salazar here within the temple.”
After the ceremony, Jenya again thanked the companions profusely, promising to bring their names to the attention of the Lord Mayor himself.
When the group had a moment to themselves, Gardrid quickly pulled Pez to one side.
“I’m glad ta be seein’ ya back on yer feet lad,” the battlerager began, “I got a business proposal fer ya.” Pez braced himself. How did he know that he would not be rid of this group so easily?
“I been keepin’ company with that dwarf lass we saved from the forge. Her name’s Sondor. She was one o’Zenith’s clan. She tole me what happened to the others. Seems Zenith got it inta his fool head to head off inta the Underdark and take the Word o’Moradin to the heathen. That was about the time my kinfolk lost contact with’em. He left a few of his clan behind to mind the fort, but they weren’t no match for Kazmojen and his band when they showed up. Anyway, now that lot’s been dealt with, don’t seem no sense for such a fine stronghold ta stand empty. No sir. I plan on headin’ back down there ta make sure it’s good and cleaned out. Then, me and Rusty’s gonna reclaim it in the name o’our clan. What’dya say? I could sure use yer help, specially since Rusty’s in no shape to go anywhere any time soon. The halfling and the elf here already agreed. They’re up fer it. I’ll give an equal share o’whatever loot we find. Deal?”
Pez looked at the grubby, outstretched hand of the dwarf. This really didn’t have anything to do with him, but still…there was rumored to be a passage to the Underdark somewhere within the Fortress. Would it be right to allow such a place to stand unguarded?”
“Agreed,” he said simply, shaking the offered hand.
________________________________________________
Gretchyn greeted Pez warmly as he stepped across the threshold of the orphanage, “It’s so good to see you on your feet again, sir. The children have been so worried. They are all making get-well cards for you.”
Pez forced a smile to his face, “Yes, they are…precious, aren’t they. Speaking of the little angels, do you mind if I have a word with Terrem?”
Gretchyn’s face darkened for a moment, “That one,” she snorted, “always into mischief. He’s upstairs in the boys’ room, alone as usual.”
“How did he come to be here?” Pez asked, “What happened to his parents?”
“They were so-called ‘adventurers.’ You know the type. Died when the boy was just an infant. No other family to speak of.”
Pez made his way upstairs and into the large dormitory that the boys shared. All of the other lads were outside playing, but Terrem sat alone on his bed, staring at nothing.
“Hello boy.” Pez said perfunctorily, standing in front of the child.
Terrem glanced up sullenly, “Oh…it’s you. I guess I’m supposed to thank you or something.”
“Not at all,” Pez shrugged, “After all, it wasn’t me who saved you, was it?”
Terrem’s eyes fell away, and he busied himself examining his fingernails.
“How do you know this eye tyrant?” Pez asked pointedly, “Who was the woman who brought you back here? Where did they take you first?”
Terrem yawned, “Nowhere. She brought me straight here. I don’t know who she was, and I don’t know who that monster was either. Some hero you are, letting one monster kidnap me from another.”
Pez’ fists clenched involuntarily, but with a tremendous effort, he brought himself under control, “Very well then. So you plead ignorance. Duly noted, but know this, boy, I’ll be watching you…closely.”
He spun on his heel and left the room, missing the dark look Terrem aimed at his back.
______________________________________________
The next day found Pez, Oso, Tilly and Gardrid outside the door to Keygan’s once again. They made their way back to the hidden stair to Jzadirune, and threaded a course through the ruins, arriving at the elevator to the dwarven fortress. From there, they began exploring the stronghold more thoroughly.
The bodies of the dead remained exactly where they had fallen. By now, the corpses were beginning to rot, but the dry, underground air slowed this process somewhat, and the smell was not overpowering. They came upon several unused guest rooms and two barracks, both empty and apparently quickly vacated. They found the auction chamber once again, and saw that everything was exactly as they had left it…a tomb. Beyond, they discovered the pantry, larder, and last, the kitchen.
They had not been to this room before, and they saw that a battle had taken place here, though not much of one. A human lay sprawled over a worktable, with several kitchen knives stuck in his back. He appeared to have been dead for several days. Pez lifted his head, but did not recognize him. Oso examined the scene carefully, finding several sets of small tracks, “Goblins,” he said in disgust.
“We’ll take him with us when we go,” Pez said, shaking his head, “Perhaps Jenya will know him and his family.”
Eventually, they came back to the chamber in which stood the large, chain-draped dwarven statue. Gardrid lifted the heavy bar from the set of iron doors that the statue faced, and then pulled them open. Beyond, they found themselves in the exterior cavern once again. A stone bridge arched over the moat far below, and ended at a small cave. At the far side of the cave, a large tunnel led away and down into darkness. Oso again bent low to the ground, looking at a few strange prints. “Unless I miss my guess, I’d say our duergar friend came this way a few days ago, but there are odd tracks here beside his. They almost look like that of a serpent of some sort.”
“This must be the passage to the Underdark that the dwarf-maid told you about,” Pez said, looking at Gardrid.
“Aye,” the dwarf nodded, “the one Zenith took his clan down so long ago. There’ll be time enough fer explorin’ this later, once Rusty’s up an’ about.”
The group next went back to the causeway that led to the cellblocks. There had been another door there, halfway down the parapet, between the two dwarf statues. It was here that they planned to next map.
The door opened onto a plain hall, which ran for some thirty feet before branching at a T-intersection. As they walked cautiously down the corridor, they suddenly heard two loud clunks, followed by the sound of grinding stone coming from in front of them somewhere beyond the intersection.
“Be ready!” Pez warned, drawing his greatsword. All of them tensed, preparing for some deadly trap set by either the dwarves or Kazmojen. The next sound they heard, though, sounded like great, heavy footsteps, but they seemed to come from the very walls themselves.
Without warning, a huge, metallic hammer materialized from the wall to their right, coming down solidly across Oso’ back. As the ranger reeled from the blow, a second hammer came through the opposite wall, striking Pez with the force of a battering ram.
Oso staggered backward a step, and then quickly regained his balance. He thought to put some distance between himself and this strange assault, so to better be able to bring his bow to bear, but as he began moving back towards the door, the hammer struck again. This time it landed squarely on the base of the elf’s skull. His legs folded, and he fell face first to the floor, a pool of blood rapidly expanding from his head.
Tilly saw all of this occur in an eye-blink. Something was definitely wrong here. How could these things just pass through solid stone? He reached one hand out towards the wall on his left, and was stunned to see it pass right through. An illusion then! Just like the forest room they had found in Jzadirune. The halfling dove into the wall, coming up in a roll in a chamber on the other side. There, standing right next to the illusory wall was a large, metal monstrosity that strongly resembled the automaton they had fought in Jzadirune. Only this one was bigger, and one of its hands had been replaced by the great hammer, while the other looked like a large pincer. On the wall opposite the construct was a wooden lever in the down position.
Pez recovered from his blow just in time to see another automaton step through the right-hand wall and into the corridor behind him. The archon managed to raise his sword just high enough to keep the ensuing strike from cracking his skull like it did Oso’s, but the attack was still a telling one, landing in the middle of his chest, and crushing several ribs. Pez gasped for breath, but found none and collapsed into unconsciousness.
The lever might be the answer, Tilly thought, hoping that such luck would find him a second time. Perhaps their entrance into the corridor had activated the mechanism, which animated the automatons. Perhaps by reversing it, they would sleep again.
He rushed forward, tucking himself into another roll as he passed the guardian, but he wasn’t quite fast enough, and the hammer fell against his hip, leaving his left leg numb. Still, he managed to reach the lever, and with a grunt of effort, he pushed it back up. Nothing happened…
Gardrid stood crouched and balanced on the balls of his feet, axe gripped in two hands before him. Oso lay behind him, unmoving and bleeding, while Pez lay in front, beyond the construct, an occasional blood-flecked wheeze escaping his lips. “Right then!” he shouted at the unfeeling thing, “Ye got the drop on us, but now I’m ready fer ya! Come on! What’cha waitin’ fer?” The automaton had stopped in its tracks, hammer upraised to strike, but not moving. With a growl, Gardrid launched himself at it, his axe raising sparks off its metal skin, but also taking several pieces of plating with it. Just like that, the automaton exploded into motion again, hammering the dwarf as he tried to back away. The hit made Gardrid’s vision explode in a shower of stars. He had never, in all his life, felt such power. He knew he couldn’t go toe to toe with this thing, much less two of them.
Tilly limped away from the thing as quickly as he could. He knew he couldn’t outrun it, injured as he was, and he expected it to finish him off at any moment, but for some reason it just stood in place. He ducked back through the wall, and saw Gardrid facing the first behemoth, which also seemed rooted in place. Though he knew he should do something, Tilly was afraid. He’d faced death many times in recent days, and he’d come to appreciate how much his simple life meant to him. These opponents were not flesh and blood. They couldn’t feel pain. He backed slowly out the door.
Gardrid heard the halfling retreating behind him, leaving him to face these beasties alone, “Yer little rat!” he shouted, “Ye’d best be prayin’ ta whatever coward god ye worship that these feller’s finish me off, cause if’n they don’t, I’m comin’ fer ya!” He then screamed incoherently, and charged towards the construct once again. This time, his axe penetrated the armor shell, and cleaved deep into the mechanical internal workings of the automaton. With a shudder, it literally fell into pieces on the ground.
Gardrid whirled as he heard movement coming from behind the wall to his left. He ducked his head, and rushed headlong into it, fully expecting to crack his skull on the solid stone. Instead, he came into the room beyond, and saw the second automaton coming for him. As it approached, he swung in low, slicing away at one of its log-sized legs.
Gardrid’s words didn’t inspire fear in Tilly. He knew the battlerager had no chance alone. It was an empty threat. No, what those words did awaken in him was guilt. He couldn’t leave. Along with near-death, he had also tasted glory and accomplishment over the past week. It was a good feeling, having comrades he could rely on, and who relied on him. What would he have if he left them here to die? With a sigh, he pulled out his crossbow and loaded a bolt into it. Then, taking a deep breath, he stepped back into the corridor, and then into the wall.
Gardrid was genuinely surprised to see the crossbow bolt whiz past his head, and then bounce harmlessly off the armor of the automaton. So much so, that he reacted a split-second too late to fend off another blow from the hammer. This time, the dwarf felt something tear inside him. He coughed and a great gout of blood flew from his mouth. He was then pushed roughly to the ground as the automaton charged past him, heading for Tilly.
Tilly quickly dropped his crossbow, and began fumbling for his blades. He had just pulled them, when the hammer dropped on him a second time. He thought he might have screamed, but he couldn’t hear over the ringing in his ears. He was on his knees in front of the construct, and he could see it raising its maul again. Then, he saw something else. From this low vantage, he could see a large rent in the underside of the thing. The metal around it was badly rusted, and apparently Gardrid’s axe had damaged it further. Desperately, Tilly gripped both of his swords, and then rammed them home, deep into the gears of the construct. He felt, more than heard it fall, and then turned to see Gardrid lying on his side panting, but with a huge grin on his face.
Pez returned to consciousness slowly and painfully. Every muscle and bone in his body ached and felt bruised. His only solace was that, to his surprise, he was lying in a comfortable bed in a quiet room with soft sunlight spilling through an open window.
He recognized that he was back in the temple, but he had no recollection of how that happened. The last thing he recalled was the desperate flight from the Malachite Fortress, and then nothing. He could only assume that his companions escaped as well.
He levered himself to a sitting position, and peered about the chamber. His wounds were all cleaned and dressed, including the trauma to his wing from the javelin he took. Reflexively, he looked for his belongings, but then he recalled that they had been stripped from him when he was captured, and they had not been able to recover them.
Then his eye caught something in the corner. It appeared to be a gleaming, beautifully crafted greatsword. Pez’ breath caught for a moment. Could it be? He climbed painfully to his feet, and moved to the weapon. He wrapped his hand around the hilt, and then closed his eyes and concentrated. When he opened them again, he felt his heart swell, for where the sword had been, he now held a four-foot long silver trumpet! His badge of office…it had been returned to him! He could sense that its power was only a fraction of what it once was, but it was here. This could only mean that he was slowly finding favor again in the Great Court.
At that moment, he heard the door open behind him, and he instantly willed the horn back into sword form. He wasn’t ready to share this revelation just yet, and besides, his terms of servitude precluded that.
He turned and saw Ruphus standing with a tray of food. “Ah! You are awake my friend. You had us quite worried. It has been three days now since we retrieved you here.”
“Three days?” Pez asked incredulously, “What of the others? Are they safe? The children?”
“Yes, yes,” Ruphus nodded, placing the tray on the bedside table, “the others are well, though Rustifarius is gravely injured. He lingers still in unconsciousness. The High Priestess tends him daily. We treated the wounds of Tilly, Oso and Gardrid, and they have been by regularly to check on you and Rusty. The children and the other prisoners are doing as well as can be expected. Some wounds go deeper than the flesh. We are saddened that there were not more to be found.”
“What of Terrem?” Pez asked, “Did Tilly tell you of the eye tyrant?”
Ruphus looked puzzled, “Yes, he told us the whole story. It is strange, and I am afraid that Jenya doesn’t know what to make of it. Terrem was returned to the orphanage the same day that your group came back. A tall woman in a black veil brought him to the door, according to Gretchyn. She left without a word, and the boy said nothing of his ordeal, but he seems no worse for wear.”
Pez remained quiet. This was a puzzle indeed, and one that bore further investigation to be sure…
_____________________________________________
A few days later, Pez’ strength had fully returned, and he was reunited with his friends within the inner courtyard of the temple. All were present, except Rusty, whose injuries were still too severe to allow him out of bed. Jenya and Ruphus were dressed in formal habits, and all of the other priests and acolytes were gathered to bear witness.
“We are brought together today to honor and thank these brave souls,” Jenya began, “who have risked, and lost, life and limb to undo a great injustice. Through their actions, an insidious web of slavery and murder has been undone, and the lives of many innocent folk have been spared. We are eternally grateful.”
The priestess then held forth a large sack, which jingled and clinked enticingly, “As promised, five-thousand gold galleons for services rendered.” She next produced four small amulets in the shape of a hammer, and tied with a blue cord. One of these she placed around the neck of each of the heroes. “The Order of the Hammer,” she intoned, “an honor bestowed upon those who have performed above and beyond the call of duty in the name of the Lord of Justice. We shall bestow the same upon Rustifarius when he has sufficiently recovered, and we shall lay one final medallion upon the memorial shrine erected for Salazar here within the temple.”
After the ceremony, Jenya again thanked the companions profusely, promising to bring their names to the attention of the Lord Mayor himself.
When the group had a moment to themselves, Gardrid quickly pulled Pez to one side.
“I’m glad ta be seein’ ya back on yer feet lad,” the battlerager began, “I got a business proposal fer ya.” Pez braced himself. How did he know that he would not be rid of this group so easily?
“I been keepin’ company with that dwarf lass we saved from the forge. Her name’s Sondor. She was one o’Zenith’s clan. She tole me what happened to the others. Seems Zenith got it inta his fool head to head off inta the Underdark and take the Word o’Moradin to the heathen. That was about the time my kinfolk lost contact with’em. He left a few of his clan behind to mind the fort, but they weren’t no match for Kazmojen and his band when they showed up. Anyway, now that lot’s been dealt with, don’t seem no sense for such a fine stronghold ta stand empty. No sir. I plan on headin’ back down there ta make sure it’s good and cleaned out. Then, me and Rusty’s gonna reclaim it in the name o’our clan. What’dya say? I could sure use yer help, specially since Rusty’s in no shape to go anywhere any time soon. The halfling and the elf here already agreed. They’re up fer it. I’ll give an equal share o’whatever loot we find. Deal?”
Pez looked at the grubby, outstretched hand of the dwarf. This really didn’t have anything to do with him, but still…there was rumored to be a passage to the Underdark somewhere within the Fortress. Would it be right to allow such a place to stand unguarded?”
“Agreed,” he said simply, shaking the offered hand.
________________________________________________
Gretchyn greeted Pez warmly as he stepped across the threshold of the orphanage, “It’s so good to see you on your feet again, sir. The children have been so worried. They are all making get-well cards for you.”
Pez forced a smile to his face, “Yes, they are…precious, aren’t they. Speaking of the little angels, do you mind if I have a word with Terrem?”
Gretchyn’s face darkened for a moment, “That one,” she snorted, “always into mischief. He’s upstairs in the boys’ room, alone as usual.”
“How did he come to be here?” Pez asked, “What happened to his parents?”
“They were so-called ‘adventurers.’ You know the type. Died when the boy was just an infant. No other family to speak of.”
Pez made his way upstairs and into the large dormitory that the boys shared. All of the other lads were outside playing, but Terrem sat alone on his bed, staring at nothing.
“Hello boy.” Pez said perfunctorily, standing in front of the child.
Terrem glanced up sullenly, “Oh…it’s you. I guess I’m supposed to thank you or something.”
“Not at all,” Pez shrugged, “After all, it wasn’t me who saved you, was it?”
Terrem’s eyes fell away, and he busied himself examining his fingernails.
“How do you know this eye tyrant?” Pez asked pointedly, “Who was the woman who brought you back here? Where did they take you first?”
Terrem yawned, “Nowhere. She brought me straight here. I don’t know who she was, and I don’t know who that monster was either. Some hero you are, letting one monster kidnap me from another.”
Pez’ fists clenched involuntarily, but with a tremendous effort, he brought himself under control, “Very well then. So you plead ignorance. Duly noted, but know this, boy, I’ll be watching you…closely.”
He spun on his heel and left the room, missing the dark look Terrem aimed at his back.
______________________________________________
The next day found Pez, Oso, Tilly and Gardrid outside the door to Keygan’s once again. They made their way back to the hidden stair to Jzadirune, and threaded a course through the ruins, arriving at the elevator to the dwarven fortress. From there, they began exploring the stronghold more thoroughly.
The bodies of the dead remained exactly where they had fallen. By now, the corpses were beginning to rot, but the dry, underground air slowed this process somewhat, and the smell was not overpowering. They came upon several unused guest rooms and two barracks, both empty and apparently quickly vacated. They found the auction chamber once again, and saw that everything was exactly as they had left it…a tomb. Beyond, they discovered the pantry, larder, and last, the kitchen.
They had not been to this room before, and they saw that a battle had taken place here, though not much of one. A human lay sprawled over a worktable, with several kitchen knives stuck in his back. He appeared to have been dead for several days. Pez lifted his head, but did not recognize him. Oso examined the scene carefully, finding several sets of small tracks, “Goblins,” he said in disgust.
“We’ll take him with us when we go,” Pez said, shaking his head, “Perhaps Jenya will know him and his family.”
Eventually, they came back to the chamber in which stood the large, chain-draped dwarven statue. Gardrid lifted the heavy bar from the set of iron doors that the statue faced, and then pulled them open. Beyond, they found themselves in the exterior cavern once again. A stone bridge arched over the moat far below, and ended at a small cave. At the far side of the cave, a large tunnel led away and down into darkness. Oso again bent low to the ground, looking at a few strange prints. “Unless I miss my guess, I’d say our duergar friend came this way a few days ago, but there are odd tracks here beside his. They almost look like that of a serpent of some sort.”
“This must be the passage to the Underdark that the dwarf-maid told you about,” Pez said, looking at Gardrid.
“Aye,” the dwarf nodded, “the one Zenith took his clan down so long ago. There’ll be time enough fer explorin’ this later, once Rusty’s up an’ about.”
The group next went back to the causeway that led to the cellblocks. There had been another door there, halfway down the parapet, between the two dwarf statues. It was here that they planned to next map.
The door opened onto a plain hall, which ran for some thirty feet before branching at a T-intersection. As they walked cautiously down the corridor, they suddenly heard two loud clunks, followed by the sound of grinding stone coming from in front of them somewhere beyond the intersection.
“Be ready!” Pez warned, drawing his greatsword. All of them tensed, preparing for some deadly trap set by either the dwarves or Kazmojen. The next sound they heard, though, sounded like great, heavy footsteps, but they seemed to come from the very walls themselves.
Without warning, a huge, metallic hammer materialized from the wall to their right, coming down solidly across Oso’ back. As the ranger reeled from the blow, a second hammer came through the opposite wall, striking Pez with the force of a battering ram.
Oso staggered backward a step, and then quickly regained his balance. He thought to put some distance between himself and this strange assault, so to better be able to bring his bow to bear, but as he began moving back towards the door, the hammer struck again. This time it landed squarely on the base of the elf’s skull. His legs folded, and he fell face first to the floor, a pool of blood rapidly expanding from his head.
Tilly saw all of this occur in an eye-blink. Something was definitely wrong here. How could these things just pass through solid stone? He reached one hand out towards the wall on his left, and was stunned to see it pass right through. An illusion then! Just like the forest room they had found in Jzadirune. The halfling dove into the wall, coming up in a roll in a chamber on the other side. There, standing right next to the illusory wall was a large, metal monstrosity that strongly resembled the automaton they had fought in Jzadirune. Only this one was bigger, and one of its hands had been replaced by the great hammer, while the other looked like a large pincer. On the wall opposite the construct was a wooden lever in the down position.
Pez recovered from his blow just in time to see another automaton step through the right-hand wall and into the corridor behind him. The archon managed to raise his sword just high enough to keep the ensuing strike from cracking his skull like it did Oso’s, but the attack was still a telling one, landing in the middle of his chest, and crushing several ribs. Pez gasped for breath, but found none and collapsed into unconsciousness.
The lever might be the answer, Tilly thought, hoping that such luck would find him a second time. Perhaps their entrance into the corridor had activated the mechanism, which animated the automatons. Perhaps by reversing it, they would sleep again.
He rushed forward, tucking himself into another roll as he passed the guardian, but he wasn’t quite fast enough, and the hammer fell against his hip, leaving his left leg numb. Still, he managed to reach the lever, and with a grunt of effort, he pushed it back up. Nothing happened…
Gardrid stood crouched and balanced on the balls of his feet, axe gripped in two hands before him. Oso lay behind him, unmoving and bleeding, while Pez lay in front, beyond the construct, an occasional blood-flecked wheeze escaping his lips. “Right then!” he shouted at the unfeeling thing, “Ye got the drop on us, but now I’m ready fer ya! Come on! What’cha waitin’ fer?” The automaton had stopped in its tracks, hammer upraised to strike, but not moving. With a growl, Gardrid launched himself at it, his axe raising sparks off its metal skin, but also taking several pieces of plating with it. Just like that, the automaton exploded into motion again, hammering the dwarf as he tried to back away. The hit made Gardrid’s vision explode in a shower of stars. He had never, in all his life, felt such power. He knew he couldn’t go toe to toe with this thing, much less two of them.
Tilly limped away from the thing as quickly as he could. He knew he couldn’t outrun it, injured as he was, and he expected it to finish him off at any moment, but for some reason it just stood in place. He ducked back through the wall, and saw Gardrid facing the first behemoth, which also seemed rooted in place. Though he knew he should do something, Tilly was afraid. He’d faced death many times in recent days, and he’d come to appreciate how much his simple life meant to him. These opponents were not flesh and blood. They couldn’t feel pain. He backed slowly out the door.
Gardrid heard the halfling retreating behind him, leaving him to face these beasties alone, “Yer little rat!” he shouted, “Ye’d best be prayin’ ta whatever coward god ye worship that these feller’s finish me off, cause if’n they don’t, I’m comin’ fer ya!” He then screamed incoherently, and charged towards the construct once again. This time, his axe penetrated the armor shell, and cleaved deep into the mechanical internal workings of the automaton. With a shudder, it literally fell into pieces on the ground.
Gardrid whirled as he heard movement coming from behind the wall to his left. He ducked his head, and rushed headlong into it, fully expecting to crack his skull on the solid stone. Instead, he came into the room beyond, and saw the second automaton coming for him. As it approached, he swung in low, slicing away at one of its log-sized legs.
Gardrid’s words didn’t inspire fear in Tilly. He knew the battlerager had no chance alone. It was an empty threat. No, what those words did awaken in him was guilt. He couldn’t leave. Along with near-death, he had also tasted glory and accomplishment over the past week. It was a good feeling, having comrades he could rely on, and who relied on him. What would he have if he left them here to die? With a sigh, he pulled out his crossbow and loaded a bolt into it. Then, taking a deep breath, he stepped back into the corridor, and then into the wall.
Gardrid was genuinely surprised to see the crossbow bolt whiz past his head, and then bounce harmlessly off the armor of the automaton. So much so, that he reacted a split-second too late to fend off another blow from the hammer. This time, the dwarf felt something tear inside him. He coughed and a great gout of blood flew from his mouth. He was then pushed roughly to the ground as the automaton charged past him, heading for Tilly.
Tilly quickly dropped his crossbow, and began fumbling for his blades. He had just pulled them, when the hammer dropped on him a second time. He thought he might have screamed, but he couldn’t hear over the ringing in his ears. He was on his knees in front of the construct, and he could see it raising its maul again. Then, he saw something else. From this low vantage, he could see a large rent in the underside of the thing. The metal around it was badly rusted, and apparently Gardrid’s axe had damaged it further. Desperately, Tilly gripped both of his swords, and then rammed them home, deep into the gears of the construct. He felt, more than heard it fall, and then turned to see Gardrid lying on his side panting, but with a huge grin on his face.
Lela
First Post
Wow, another near TPK. It's been a while since anyone in my party was even nocked on unconcious (they're just getting too good).
I can't wait to find out what's going on with the boy. I certainly don't believe he didn't know what was up. Perhaps finding out more about his parents (particularly how they died) would shed some light on it.
I can't wait to find out what's going on with the boy. I certainly don't believe he didn't know what was up. Perhaps finding out more about his parents (particularly how they died) would shed some light on it.
Lela
First Post
gfunk said:
Ow, that's like the (supposedly) CR 10 PyroHydra I threw at my party early today. Of course, I'm sure it had a lot more HP than those tin cans did. It's happenings like yours that inspired me to do death at -10 - Con Mod (that, and Old One's story hour).
But, dang guys, we've seen three near TPKs in as many sessions (if I have my time table right). You guys should look into a Cleric or Druid. Anyone got Leadership or plan to get it (Pez?)?
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Neverwinter Knight
First Post
The way I last played with my group, bludgeoning weapons like hammers don't cause you to bleed to death. When you go to -5 due to a hammer blow, you remain there, stabilized.
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