gfunk said:
Come on now JollyDoc, this ain't Gfunk's Story Hour.
UPDATE!!!!
Ask, and ye shall receive. And for those of you requesting an arcanist, meet Skaven.
TANGLED WEBS
Further examination of the wizard’s chambers turned up nothing else useful. The six companions returned to the corridor and continued deeper into the ruins. Eventually, they found themselves in a large, domed meeting room. It was unoccupied, but appeared to be capable of holding a dozen or more people. There were three exits. One pair of double doors to the east led back outside to the main cavern. A smaller door to the northwest led towards Triel’s and Tarkilar’s abodes. That left another set of double doors on the west wall. Lacking any other options, Gardrid pulled the portals open.
Beyond was a wide hallway stretching some eighty feet or more in length and lit by sporadic glowing balls of flame. It seemed to be empty, but what immediately caught Gardrid’s eye were the arrow slits lining each wall. “Charmin’” the dwarf sneered. “Who’s fer bettin’ this ain’t as harmless as it looks?”
“Do you want me to scout ahead?” Tilly asked with a look that clearly said he would rather not.
“Nah,” the battlerager waved him off, “There’s only one way to find out what’s waitin’.”
Before anyone could stop him, Gardrid took off down the hall. It was instantly obvious what a bad idea this was. He had taken no more than five steps when a section of floor in front of him dropped away, revealing a dark pit. He teetered on the edge for a moment before regaining his balance, then skirted the edge of the shaft and ran on. As he passed the arrow slits, bolts flew at him from both sides, two of them grazing him across the forehead and right arm. At the far end of the corridor, he narrowly avoided another hidden pit, and finally came to a halt before a pair of closed doors. “All clear!” he called back to his companions with a big grin on his face.
As a group, the others bolted down the hallway, sidestepping the open pit as they came. Again, arrows flew from both sides, and they caught a glimpse of red-sashed Alleybashers in the shadows beyond the slits. Once they had all reached the far side, Pez turned abruptly, “Justice must be served,” he said coldly, “These murderers were responsible for Sarcem’s death. I will not suffer them to go unpunished.”
“What are you saying?” Tilly asked in disbelief, “We’re past them now. We can keep moving and find the wizard and the last of the wands! How are you going to fight them through arrow slits?”
“Watch and learn,” Pez replied.
The archon darted back along the hall, pausing to one side of the nearest arrow slit. From the opposite one across the hall, an Alleybasher’s opened fire. Heedless of the danger, Pez pivoted in front of his slit and proceeded to shove his blade through it. He was rewarded by a cry of pain from the brigand on the other side.
“Hah! I get it now!” Gardrid laughed, and then he dashed towards the slit opposite Pez. Gripping his axe by the end of the haft, he ducked beneath the embrasure, and then suddenly popped up, chopping the blade through the opening. With a resounding crack, the bow of the Alleybasher within splintered, and the man uttered a curse as he hopped back.
One by one, the rest of the group followed Pez’ and Gardrid’s leads. They each took up a position beside an arrow slit, and then began attacking through it. The Alleybashers were unable to retreat far from the openings and still be able to get an open shot at their opponents, so they were forced to stay within melee range and keep firing. Though their missiles inflicted a few minor wounds, the blows from their foes were far more devastating, and in short order the bandits were either dead or had retreated.
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The doors at the far end of the gauntlet led into what appeared to be some sort of vast workroom, though for assembling what was unclear. There were no light sources present, and the far recesses of the chamber faded into darkness. Several worktables, covered with bits and pieces of scrap metal, were arranged in a semi-circle in the room’s center. Somewhere in the depths of the room strange skittering sounds echoed off the unseen walls, but then quickly faded into silence.
By consensus, the companions fanned out to either side of the chamber, advancing slowly and cautiously, peering into the gloom intently. They walked past the benches, and Pez scanned the refuse scattered across them. He was no arcanist, but many of the metallic objects looked similar to items he’d seen in the workshops of wizards, though he had no clue as to their purpose.
Raphael was just rounding the final table, when he caught a glimpse of movement near the floor on the opposite side. Suddenly, an ear splitting shriek pierced the air, and the entire group covered their ears reflexively. Raphael actually felt one of his eardrums burst, and blood gushed from his ear canal. At that moment, a large, frog-like creature reared up in front of him, opening a maw full of razor sharp teeth, which it promptly fastened onto the paladin’s arm. He jerked back in disgust, bringing his shield up defensively, and then remembering the sword in his hand. He didn’t know what manner of beast this was, but it didn’t seem remotely interested in parley. “I warn you, stay back!” the paladin shouted, but the monster lunged again. Raphael raised his sword and the creature impaled itself on the point. It roared in pain, and then hopped back several feet, seeming to cringe in fear.
“Nice try laddie” Gardrid said, coming from behind Raphael and closing on the frog beast, “but ye gotta put some muscle into it. Like this!” The dwarf raised his axe in a double-handed grip above his head, and then chopped it down into the creature’s back. It screamed again, blood flowing freely across its body. Just then, Gardrid heard barking and snarling, as Onesock lunged forward, snapping at the pathetic creature. Wathros was nearby, and he began chanting rhythmically. When he had completed his spell, he gestured and a familiar bolt of lightning erupted from the ceiling, enveloping the frog. To the druid’s utter amazement though, the electricity seemed to wash over it without having any noticeable effect.
Pez watched the battle with dawning comprehension. He knew this creature. He had encountered its kind before while journeying across the realm of Limbo. Though he had never seen this particular type, he knew the beast to be one of the race of Slaad, a war-like race of frog humanoids. But what was one doing here? Had it been summoned by the sorcerer? Some of the Slaad were quite accomplished arcanists in their own right, but most were just brutes…killing machines. He could well imagine them being used as guardians, but this was now the second outer planar creature they had encountered in these ruins, counting the skulvyn demon he had slain on the beach. Just a coincidence? He thought not. In any event, the beast must be dealt with quickly. They had a nasty habit of being able to bring in reinforcements. The archon leaped into the fray, and with one blow, slew the already mortally wounded monster.
Tilly was just coming around the far side of the benches when the battle ended. Oh well, he shrugged, leave it to Gardrid and Pez to make quick work of a single foe. He admired the two warriors, and secretly, he had to admit, he would not mind having some of their skills. True, his stock in trade was subtlety, but there was something to be said for raw power as well. When they finished here, he might very well have to look into having his friends give him a few tips in the finer points of sword play. He was just imagining himself decked out in shining armor, blade flashing, when a huge, clawed hand struck him across the face, spinning him around to face a second Slaad that had been hiding in the shadows. Recovering himself, Tilly drew his sword and dagger, and thrust them both at the outsider, scoring two telling blows despite his previous doubt in his martial abilities.
Raphael saw the second Slaad an instant before it attacked Tilly, but not in time to warn the halfling. Again, he knew that he must do something to help his new friends, though he loathed having to resort to lethal means. Nevertheless, he had given his word, and that was bond. He rushed towards Tilly, interposing himself between the rogue and the Slaad, and driving the creature back with wild swings from his sword. The Slaad huddled several feet away for a moment, glaring at the paladin. Suddenly, its face contorted into some sort of spasm, and it hands flailed jerkily. From out of thin air, a third Slaad appeared, this one across the room, directly behind Pez. It emitted another of the high-pitched shrieks as it materialized, and Pez found himself on his knees from the pain.
“Onesock, kill!” Wathros commanded, and the wolf was off like a missile. It leaped atop one of the workbenches and launched itself at the Slaad facing Tilly and Raphael, bearing the creature to the floor and tearing its throat out.
Wathros then turned towards the newcomer, again summoning a bolt of lightning, though he expected this one to be just as impervious as its fellow. Therefore he was surprised a second time when the monster barked in pain, scorch marks appearing on its hide.
Rusty and Gardrid moved to opposite sides of the summoned Slaad, each leveling devastating blows at it. Tilly and Pez quickly closed as well, but just then, the creature curled itself into a fetal ball on the floor, cringing in fear. For some reason, the halfling and the archon couldn’t bring themselves to slay the pitiful beast. It seemed so helpless…so cute. Rusty had no such compunctions. He split its skull with his hammer, and it promptly vanished.
Pez shook off the strange effect the Slaad had generated, and ordered the others to conduct a thorough search of the chamber. This proved fruitless, however, and they realized they had reached a dead-end. The wizard was not here, and had apparently not been for some time. They were running out of places to search. There was still one final clutch of rooms near the South end of the ruins that they had not yet explored. If they did not find him there, they would be forced to report their failure to Jenya.
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As the party began backtracking through the complex, Pez’ attention was drawn to Raphael. He watched the paladin from the corner of his eye, trying to puzzle out what it was about the man that seemed so familiar. Then it came to him…the slightly pointed ears, the almost translucently blue eyes, the blonde hair that was almost unnaturally golden. He was an aasimar. The archon should have realized it immediately. From time to time celestials were known to engage in dalliances with mortals, whether out of love or for recreation. The results of these unions were so-called half-celestials. More often than not, these half-breeds would live out their lives among their mortal kin, in time diluting most of their celestial blood. However, some hint always remained, and was passed down from generation to generation, resulting in aasimar, the distant offspring of celestials. Pez smirked to himself. No doubt the paladin considered himself touched by the divine, and was thus drawn to his current profession. It was a charming, if naïve ideal, and Pez wondered what the man would do if he ever found out he was in the company of a true celestial.
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They stood before an unremarkable door, much like any other they had encountered thus far. Tilly examined it and declared it safe, then pushed it inward. The room beyond was nothing like they had encountered, however. It was clogged with webs, making it impossible to see its full extent. Peering through the sticky strands, the halfling spotted several dark, bulbous shapes scuttling in his direction. “Spiders!” Tilly cried, leaping away from the door. Gardrid quickly moved in front of him and rushed into the chamber, closely followed by Raphael. The paladin had no qualms about slaying vermin, especially when they endangered those he had sworn to protect. Six of the beasts, roughly the size of house cats, swarmed through the ropey filaments, dropping towards the warriors from near the ceiling. Gardrid wasted no time in clearing the area around him with great, sweeping arcs of his axe. Time after time he smashed the arachnids, leaving sticky splats in his wake. Raphael fought back to back with him, until no more of the creatures came forward.
A narrow path wove through the webbing, leading to a natural tunnel in the far wall of the room. This too was filled with webs, and the companions felt as though they were walking on a sticky carpet. The tunnel wound about for several yards before ending in a large cave. Webs draped the area from ceiling to floor, great sheets and curtains blowing gently in the slight breeze. It was dark, pitch black and they could not even begin to guess the size of the place. Furthermore, the path they had been following ended here. To continue, they would have to hack their way through the encumbering webs.
Pez began leading the others slowly through the maze, clearing the strands as he went. He had gone no more than ten feet or so, when he found that his feet seemed to be stuck to the floor. The webs there were much more sticky, and much stronger than previously. As he began trying to free himself, a shadowy movement caught his attention. He glanced around quickly, and spotted two humanoid creatures crouching in the shadows. The walked on two legs, but hunched over with their arms dragging the floor. The were gangly, with bloated, spider-like abdomens. Coarse, wiry bristles covered their bodies like fur. Mandibles protruded from their mouths, and their eyes were multi-faceted. Before the archon could shout a warning, one of them had unfolded what appeared to be a net made of webs. It cast it out, snaring Raphael and pinning him to the cave wall.
Gardrid saw the attackers an instant after Pez. He prepared to charge, but as he took his first step, he too became rooted to the floor. Beside him, Tilly looked around frantically. He knew there was danger, but he couldn’t see the creatures in the shadows. He alone of his companions did not have eyes that could see in darkness. He had to rely on the sunrod in his belt, but the glare produced by it hindered his vision more than helping it. Suddenly, a large shape loomed up next to him. It lunged at him, its mandibles snapping great gashes in his chest.
Pez was finally able to twist free of the webs, and he took to the air to avoid further entrapment. He arrowed towards Tilly, colliding with the spider-creature attacking the halfling. As he bore it to the ground, he drove his sword through its spine. It thrashed reflexively for a moment, and then became still.
“I owe you…again!” Tilly said rather shakily to the archon. Then, getting hold of himself, he drew his blades and began hacking his way towards the second creature, now that Pez had pointed it out to him. It had been moving steadily towards Raphael, planning to take advantage of the paladin’s helpless state, but it quickly turned its attention towards Tilly as he approached, and towards Onesock, who was right on the halfling’s heels. Tilly deftly maneuvered inside the monster’s spindly reach, and thrust his sword into its belly. At the same time, the wolf darted behind it. As the creature lurched away from Tilly’s attack, it fell backwards over Onesock, landing flat on its back. Tilly moved in for the kill, but before he could strike, the beast spat out several strands of webbing, weaving them into another net with blinding speed. Tilly was caught instantly. The spider-thing climbed back to its feet, but Onesock was on it again, biting at its hands as it tried to push itself up.
A stream of curses issued from Gardrid as he tried repeatedly to free himself from the webs. “Hold still ye idgit!” Rusty snapped at him as he approached with a torch and began burning the confining strands away. “It’s about time ye did somethin’ useful!” Gardrid snarled, “Ow! That’s me feet yer torchin’! Watch what ye’re about!” Finally, the battlerager was free, and once again he prepared to charge into the fray, but again, no sooner had he moved than he became trapped by a new patch of the sticky webs. He roared in inarticulate rage, but just as suddenly went silent as his gaze fell upon several large shapes looming in the tunnel behind Rusty. Spiders…big ones.
While the spider-man was distracted by Onesock, Tilly managed to cut himself free of the net, but as he began to step behind the creature, his feet became stuck. He looked down, and then back up again as the beast reared up before him to strike. Suddenly, the thing’s head exploded in flames as Wathros hurled a fiery missile at it. It shrieked and writhed before collapsing into a smoldering heap.
Pez spotted the new threat as well. At least four, pony-sized spiders were moving into the room, followed by two more that were easily as big as horses. The archon began chanting, summoning a burst of sound that struck the midst of the arachnids, momentarily stunning one of the larger ones, as well as one of the smaller.
“Ye’re a bigger boob than I thought,” Rusty laughed at Gardrid as he again set to burning the battlerager free. Gardrid didn’t bother to reply as he turned towards two of the smaller spiders right behind him. He buried his axe in one’s head just as it spat a wad of webbing at Onesock, pinning the wolf to the ground. As the spider died, Gardrid wrenched his blade free and performed the same maneuver of its companion.
Wathros saw Onesock fall, but knew that the wolf was unharmed. He turned his attention instead to the more immediate danger, hurling another flaming ball at one of the remaining pony-spiders. As the creature retreated from the fire, Pez leaped for it, decapitating it with one stroke from his greatsword. Unfortunately, this made room for its horse-sized buddy to charge towards the archon. Wathros sought to buy Pez some time by tossing another flame ball its way.
Rusty felt that his friends had the situation well in hand, but Raphael and Tilly weren’t having much luck. The priest made his way over to the paladin, and began incinerating his bonds, then moved to Tilly and freed him as well.
Raphael was angry…angrier than he’d ever been. He felt helpless and useless while his friends were being attacked. As soon as he was free, he charged at the last of the pony-spiders, slashing at it repeatedly, even after it was obviously dead.
Gardrid remained deathly silent as he stalked right up to one of the remaining two spiders that was easily twice his size. It reared up on four of its legs, preparing to smother the dwarf, but instead found its abdomen sliced cleanly open and its innards pooling on the floor. The battlerager stepped over its twitching corpse and introduced himself to its final partner.
As Gardrid finished off the vermin, Pez suddenly became alert again, for in the distance he could hear the faint sounds of chanting. Magic was being worked, and not for their benefit. “Come!” he cried to his friends, “Our quarry is near!”
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Skaven completed his final spell in preparation for the battle that must surely come, and then he settled in to wait. In retrospect, he supposed he should have left the complex when he’d learned Triel and Tarkilar were dead. He’d assumed that whoever had slain them had primarily been after Triel. With her sordid and colorful past, there were any number of reasons why a band of mercenaries would be hired to find her. He had hoped that after disposing of her, they would have departed, leaving him to consolidate the remainder of the Alleybashers under his authority, and then to continue with his research uninterrupted. Alas, this appeared to be a persistent lot. He had been forced to retreat here when it became obvious they were looking for the wands. Triel was a fool to have taken them in the first place. Granted, they needed the ransom money to complete the construction project their benefactors had requested, but surely there were less public ways to come by it. This was all about Triel’s ego, and her obsessive hatred of her former city for their perceived persecution of her. Never mind that she had earned it. So now here he was, alone. He could, of course, just give the remaining wands to the mercenaries, but he doubted they would settle for just that. No, they would insist on dragging him back to the city to face some sort of trial, he was sure, and that he could not allow. His research was far too important. He would be forced to kill them, and that would not prove to difficult, he mused. After all, he was not quite alone. No…not alone at all…
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Pez was truly concerned. He was not at all certain of the outcome of this battle. It was one thing to face hordes of hired thugs, and the occasional giant spider. It was quite another to face an experienced arcanist, who didn’t need to go toe to toe with them. This could be very bad.
He crept quietly forward, scouting ahead of the main group, and sticking to the shadows, trying to remain hidden for as long as possible. The cavern where they had fought the spiders and the ettercaps (as Wathros had identified them) led to an even larger chamber. This one was likewise filled with webs, but it was illuminated by randomly placed glowing balls of magical light. Pez quickly scanned the room, and it was not long before his eyes settled on a massive shape crouching in a dark corner, obviously attempting concealment. From this distance, it appeared to be another monstrous spider, but it was definitely something more. For one thing, it had a large pair of bat-like wings.
Before he could do more than register all this, several streaking missiles of light came speeding out of the darkened recess, from somewhere near the ceiling. Unerringly, they went right past Pez and slammed into Wathros, who had just entered the cave. The druid reeled from the bombardment, clutching his chest and breathing in great, ragged gasps. It was then that Pez saw the origin of the spell. Clinging to the ceiling, like some new kind of arachnid, was a halfling, of all things. He was bald, and dressed in crimson robes. He didn’t seem to have spotted Pez yet, and the archon counted himself fortunate. Perhaps they might have a chance after all.
At that moment, the spider creature lifted its bloated body off the ground with its massive wings and landed several yards from the tunnel mouth. It was clearly visible now, and for a brief moment, the companions could only stare at the bizarre thing. It did superficially resemble a spider, but its head was almost human-like, as where its four pairs of eyes. Its body was covered with chitinous, ebony plates, and great horns curved from its brow. To Gardrid, it almost seemed to be a harpoon spider, a dangerous predator of the Underdark, but unlike any he’d ever seen before. Before he could analyze it further, the beast opened its mouth, and spat forth a stream of liquid. The fluid struck the battlerager full in the chest, and immediately began to burn into his armor, to his skin underneath. The dwarf roared in pain and fury, rushing forward to engage this strange foe…only to find himself, again, stuck to the floor.
It wasn’t long before other members of the group became equally entrapped. Onesock and Rusty didn’t get more than five feet before the perilous webs snared them. Wathros was torn by indecision. The sorcerer had targeted him specifically. He’d obviously been identified as a spell-caster. He couldn’t continue to be bombarded from a distance, and yet he hesitated to retreat for fear of becoming entangled. He knew that his only chance was to fight fire with fire. Calling upon his tried and true arsenal, he summoned lightning to strike the halfling’s pet. The harpoon spider shrieked, though whether in pain or rage, Wathros could not tell.
Rusty had come to the same realization as Wathros. The sorcerer had to be neutralized, and the priest thought he knew just the way. He began channeling Mystra’s power and attempted to paralyze the halfling, but somehow the wily little sneak managed to evade the spell. “Blast!” Rusty cursed. He had now identified himself as a threat to the mage, and here he was, a sitting duck. He quickly lit another torch and set about burning his bonds.
Tilly rushed to Gardrid’s side, and began hacking at the webs around his feet. He knew the spider would be on them in a moment. They were running out of time. He heard the halfling call out something in a language he didn’t understand. Pez understood it though. It was Undercommon, the language of the Underdark. The mage had just instructed the spider to step out of his line of sight. That could only mean one thing. Pez couldn’t warn his friends, for he would give himself away and blow perhaps their only opportunity at victory. The harpoon spider lumbered quickly to one side, and then instantly a sizzling bolt of electricity arced from the halfling’s hand, directly into Gardrid, blowing him several feet backward, and free from the webs. Tilly managed to leap to the side just at the last instant.
“Two can play that game,” Wathros shouted, and an answering surge of lightning seared down from the ceiling directly above the sorcerer, forcing him to scramble out of the way, and singing him in the process. Pez chose that moment to strike. He flew into the air from his hiding spot, coming up directly behind the halfling, and sounding his trumpet as loud as he could. Skaven grabbed his ears in agony, but the blast did not have the desired effect of stunning the little mage. It did, however, alert him to this newest enemy threat. He turned in an instant, a spell on his lips. Black energy leaped from his fingers. Pez dove for the ground, and then leveled off just inches from it, narrowly avoiding the deadly blast, but still feeling waves of soul-numbing cold from its near miss.
As Gardrid rose shakily to his feet, the harpoon spider moved in. From a distance of thirty feet, it opened its mouth again, but this time a thick tendril with a spike-like fang on the end shot forth. The fang impaled Gardrid through the thigh, and then ripped free again as it tried to reel him back towards the spider. In blind fury, Gardrid followed the retreating tendril, charging right up the spider’s head, and hacking at it savagely.
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Gutterrut had been watching the battle with great interest. He had trailed the meddlesome mortals and their celestial companion all throughout the ruins, waiting for the right time to seek his revenge. Now that Skaven and his pet seemed to have the upper hand, he would join them and see the archon humiliated before he died.
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Pez pulled out of his dive, and circled back to face the sorcerer. Perhaps he would be able to get in close enough to strike before the mage incinerated him. Just as he was preparing for one last charge, he felt a wave of fear wash over him. It passed quickly, but he knew instantly the source. Glancing above him, he saw the quasit hovering near Skaven, laughing maniacally. Perfect, he thought to himself. One final opportunity. He continued his charge towards the pair, and as he neared them, he sounded his horn once again. This time, it had the desired outcome. Both the halfling and the imp went rigid. The quasit’s wings ceased beating, and it fell heavily to the floor. The sorcerer remained stuck to the ceiling, but his spell-casting days were at an end.
As Tilly came out of his roll, he found himself face to face with the harpoon spider, just to the left of Gardrid. The spider pounced on him immediately, sinking its mandibles deep into his belly, and then ripping free. Tilly felt himself swooning. He sat down heavily, clutching at his hemorrhaging abdomen, his vision going dark.
Gardrid seized upon the spider’s momentary distraction, and buried his axe into its back. As it turned to face him once more, a blast of lightning enveloped its head. It squealed in agony and collapsed onto its side, heaving one final breath before it died.
Pez soared upwards, coming within inches of Skaven. “Your time has come,” he said simply, and then he impaled the sorcerer, dragging his body from the ceiling and depositing it on the floor next to the paralyzed quasit. “You should have fled while you had the chance, Hellspawn,” Pez spat at the imp. Planting one boot on its chest, he swung his sword one last time, slicing the little demon in two. Its body began to dissolve immediately, as it was banished back to its home plane for one hundred years.
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Rusty was able to tend to Tilly’s wounds while the others began searching the cavern and Skaven, looking for the remaining three wands. Tilly wasn’t going to die, but he also wasn’t going to be doing somersaults any time soon.
Skaven indeed carried two of the wands on him, but search as they might, the last one was not to be found. “How can this be?” Pez moaned. “We have scoured every inch of this wretched place. How can we have missed it?”
“Perhaps we didn’t,” Rusty said, rising from Tilly’s side. “Allow me.” He took one of the wands from Pez’ hand and began examining it intently. He then closed his eyes, turning the wand over and over in his hands, and muttering to himself. After a minute or two, he opened his eyes again, “It’s that way,” he said, pointing to the North, back they way they’d come.
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They found themselves in a small, octagonal room that they had explored earlier, but finding nothing, had dismissed as a dead end. Rusty’s divination had indicated that another of the wands was hidden here somewhere. Specifically, it was somewhere beneath the floor. The priest bent to examine the flagstones, and then almost fell through them as his hand seemed to literally pass into the floor. Pulling it out, he peered closely at the spot. He began to perceive the stones to be slightly translucent, concealing some sore of pit or well beneath. “Illusion,” he said, and once he’d indicated where to look, the rest of the group saw the glamer for what it was. “It’s down there,” Rusty pointed, “I’m goin’ down. Anybody with me?” “I’ll go,” Wathros volunteered, “The rest of you keep watch. Come for us if you hear any trouble.”
Rusty placed a spell upon himself, making him lighter than air. He stepped into the pit, Wathros perched on his shoulder in the form of a hawk. Slowly, the began their descent, Rusty walking on air as if he were walking down a flight of stairs. The shaft ended some twenty feet down at water. “It’s still below us,” he said to the hawk, “but I’m not much fer swimmin’” The hawk shrieked at him, and then leaped from its perch, angling towards the water, and elongating as it went. By the time it struck the surface, it had become a crocodile, and it disappeared into the murky depths.
Wathros’ reptilian eyes quickly became attuned to the poor visibility beneath the water’s surface. The well only continued for another dozen or so feet below the water line. Already he could see the telltale glow of the wand just a few feet below him. He opened his mouth to retrieve it, but at that moment, the water around him began to roil and churn. From out of nowhere, hundreds of tiny, jelly-like creatures surrounded him. They began attaching to his hide, and everywhere that one touched, he felt his skin burning. They were also disorienting him with their constant movement. He was becoming nauseated. Thinking quickly, he again called on the lightning, bringing it down into the well to strike the water’s surface, filling the entire cistern with electricity. He felt the jolt go through him, but he hoped it would kill his attackers.
Rusty felt the hair on his head stand on end as the bolt sizzled past him. As it struck the water, the whole well lit up. The water was churning, and turning red with blood. “Pez!” he cried up the shaft, “We’ve got trouble.”
Pez peered over the lip of the well, and saw the turmoil below. He didn’t know what it was his companions had encountered, but he knew it wasn’t friendly. He had only one option at his disposal. Bringing his hands together as if in prayer, he sent a blast of pure, holy energy into the pit, washing over everything and everyone down there. He knew that Wathros and Rusty would be unaffected by it, but he hoped their assailant would be.
Sure enough, as soon as the wave of power passed through him, Wathros felt the water go still. All of the jelly creatures floated dead to the surface. He quickly grabbed the last wand, and made to rejoin his friends.
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The rains had come full fury by the time the company reentered Cauldron. Already, several businesses and homes near the lake had been flooded, and more were sure to follow. Jenya was relieved beyond words to receive the wands, and she quickly summoned Ruphus to come with her to the lake. She was joined by Rusty, Wathros and Shensen. Over the course of the next several hours, the five of them were able to hold back the floodwaters, and eventually lowered the lake's level to a point where the continued torrential downpour would pose no further threat.
Once again the Bright Axes, as the heroes would soon come to be known, had helped the city out of a desperate situation. Once again their names were spoken with honor and awe…by most anyway…
"Dude,that wizard of yours sucks!Now Entropy,there was a mage!She could keep us buffed with fifteen spells,and have enough leftover to nuke Waterdeep,she did!(in a cranky elderly voice)"
