THE DM MAKES IT A BODAK MOMENT
Thumbing his axe, the white-scaled orc nodded at the demi-celestial humanoid peering into the room. The group had been listening to the burgeoning conflict in the adjacent room with interest.
In guttural draconic, the half-dragon commanded his underlings. “Kill that one.” Grinning, the black orcs acted post-haste. Moving together, the two draconic orcs moved to the archway, and each released a stream of acid, solidly covering Dalthan, Rusty, Tilly, and Wathros in the caustic substance. Tilly, not wanting any more of this fight, ran back towards the main doors of the structure, and slipped outside.
Dalthan reeled from the acid, and almost died from the wounds. Caine, watching the events from back up the hallway realized that if he didn’t do something, their new companion would be killed. The Apostle called out, “Dalthan, do not resist this spell!” Arcane words passed from Caine’s lips and upon completion of the spell Dalthan was surrounded by a clear globe of force.
Wathros and Rusty were both slightly damaged by the acid after poor Dalthan had taken the brunt of the attacks. Wathros, still a blink dog, began yelping and hopping, and a small ball of flame appeared in the canine’s mouth. Rusty cast a spell, a spell that channeled positive energy into his wounds, healing them.
Grimm heard the sounds of combat from across the hallway and was just about to join the new fray when he noticed a bright flash of light coming from behind him. The half-ogre turned towards the forge and stepped back when he saw another four armed animated statue stepping out of the impossibly small space. The new, undamaged statue charged the planar champion.
Before the golem could land a blow, Grimm’s chain snaked out and looped around one of the stone constructs legs. Tugging with all of his strength, Grimm pulled the golem’s leg out from under it, and the statue hit the ground with a loud boom.
Kiko jumped through the opposite archway and quickly struck out at the lead black orc. The monk was a master of temporarily incapacitating living foes, and used this skill to great effect. Kiko delivered a swift punch to the orc’s neck, and the half-dragon bent over clutching its throat, trying to regain its breath.
Caine moved into the room with the half-dragons and quickly realized that the black orcs were not the true threat. The Apostle targeted the white-scaled orc’s greataxe with a spell, and suddenly the weapon was coated in a layer of grease. The orc clumsily fumbled with the weapon and it clanged to the ground.
Grimm looked down over the fallen statue. Magically hastened by Caine’s magic, the half-ogre’s chain struck the statue over and over again. All that remained after the onslaught was a pile of rubble.
The white-scaled orc began to realize that the tables had turned. Once the half-ogre joined the fray, he did not like his chances of survival. Looking at the block of amber, the half-dragon grinned evilly. He was a dark knight trained in the knowledge of undead creatures, and he had been lucky enough to recognize the creatures trapped within.
Snatching the axe from the closest black orc, the Blackguard smashed into the amber. Calling out in the tongue of dragons, the white orc screamed, “Avert your eyes from these creatures!” The block shattered, freeing the creatures within. Caine recognized the warning, and his eyes grew big when he realized the implications. “Close your eyes! Do not meet the gaze of these creatures!”
The three newcomers were humanoid in shape and had rubbery gray skin, their bodies hairless. Their heads were elongated, and were without a mouth and a nose. The eyes, sunken deep within the creatures’ skulls, glowed with an evil light. Caine recognized the abominations to be bodaks, the undead remnants of humanoids destroyed by the touch of absolute evil.
The two black orcs were not able to act quickly enough. They looked over at the newcomers and simultaneously clutched at their throats, gasping deeply. It was not their breath that they were trying to catch, but rather their souls. With a sickening gurgle, the two black orcs fell over, dead.
Wathros trotted into the room. Caine called out to him to stop, but inexplicably the blink dog proceeded into the room. Opening his mouth, the druid spat out a small ball of flame, singeing one of the bodaks. Wathros realized the folly of his hubris too late as his gaze met with one of the creatures. The blink dog choked and gagged and hit the ground like a sack of potatoes. The corpse shifted back into Wathros’ elven shape.
Caine, watching the events unfold in horror, cried out in grief. Rusty, his gaze averted but his eyes still opened, acted resolutely. The dwarf had prepared a spell in the likely case that one of his allies were killed, but only if the death had occurred within seconds of the spell being cast. Chanting and gesturing, the dwarf pulled out a small diamond. When the spell was completed, the diamond vanished and Rusty’s hand was charged with a white-hot burst of positive energy.
Rusty ran into the room, his eyes still averted, and reached out to touch Wathros’ body. The spell would revivify him, and yet again the party would be in the Mystran’s debt. Rusty reached out and touched…the floor. The dwarf’s eyes grew as wide as Grimm’s fists when he realized that while he was trying to avoid looking at the bodaks, he had missed touching Wathros by a few inches. Frustration filled the dwarf. Because of the time restrictions, the spell would no longer work on his druid friend, but remained charged in his hand.
Caine cursed. This was getting ugly. Just as he was about to enter the room to help Rusty, he heard a large presence behind him. Grimm cleared his throat, “Excuse me, Caine.” The half-ogre floated into the room and smacked at the closest bodak. Grimm, like Rusty, was averting his gaze, and the planar warrior realized that a good portion of the damage he had inflicted had healed instantly.
The Apostle of Peace called to Dalthan, who was sitting in the globe of force, his eyes shut tight. “Do you want me to release you?” The aasimar nodded, hoping that he would be able to get out of the battle alive. Caine concentrated briefly, and the globe shimmered and disappeared. Dalthan breathed a sigh of relief and opened his eyes, looking at the ground, and started to move away.
Curiosity got the best of the aasimar sorcerer. Dalthan had never encountered such creatures, and he couldn’t help but look up at the nearest bodak, just for a split second. His met the gaze of the abomination, and in an instant foul magic coursed through his celestial body. The aasimar crumpled, his life taken. Caine cried out again.
The bodaks all moved together, charging into all of the living creatures in the room, the blackguard included. The bodaks swatted with their feeble claws, realizing that their greatest weapon was their magical gaze. Soon, all of the living would join them in undeath!
The white scaled orc cackled. He could not have imagined that this would have worked out so well! True, his henchmen had died, but so had two of his enemies. More would die, he swore. His eyes were shut tight but thanks to his keen ears he was aware of an opponent just to his left. The blackguard stepped forward a struck out with his axe. The half-dragon was rewarded with the satisfying feel and sound of a solid hit.
Kiko watched as the half-dragon’s strike fully hit Rusty in the back. How the dwarf remained conscious was beyond the monk, but it was time for him to act. The monk charged at the white-scaled warrior and tried to stun it with a well-placed wheel kick in the chest. The blackguard shrugged off the hit, and turned towards the newest assailant.
Rusty staggered from the blackguard’s axe strike and gritted his teeth, but maintained concentrating on the spell that was still charged on his hand. He had to get to Dalthan. Rusty knew that the aasimar had died, and the dwarf felt nothing but shame for his earlier failure. It wouldn’t happen again. Rusty, still trying to avert the gaze of the undead beasts, moved to the sorcerer’s body and reached out. Fate would not laugh at Rusty again. He would not miss delivering his spell. At the last available second, Rusty reached out…
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From her colossal palace on the 775th layer of the Abyss, Beshaba, the Goddess of Misfortune and Accidents, cackled with glee as she watched Rusty stretch out and touch the floor again. The avatar of the spiteful deity clapped her hands together and stomped her feet, snickering uncontrollably. Watching this group from afar was more fun than torturing the petitioning dretches!
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Rusty clenched his fists and reared his head back, a silent scream on his lips. ‘NOT AGAIN!!’ the dwarf thought. ‘Another dead companion, and I WAS PREPARED TO HANDLE IT!!’
Grimm saw Rusty’s misfortune out of the corner of his eye. He would have time for sorrow later, but there was business to be done. The half-ogre’s martial training had included fighting while blind-folded, and that skill proved invaluable as he lashed out at the nearest bodak. After several strikes, Grimm was relieved to see one of the undead creatures topple to the ground and lay still, a pool of green ichor oozing onto the metal floor.
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Tilly hid behind the main doors to the structure. He had been hiding there since near the start of the fight with the half-dragons, drinking potions to heal his wounds. He heard the screams of the dying, but could not force himself to get back into the fray. Undead beasts and walking statues were not his specialty. He could get in there to help his friends, but at what cost.
It wasn’t like _he_ was the Exalted one…
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Caine felt that the battle needed to be ended quickly, before they all were killed and subsequently turned into bodaks themselves. But first, he needed to incapacitate the white-scaled half-dragon. He could trap him in a globe of force! Reflexively, the Apostle opened his eyes for a split second to see where the orc had moved to. Instead of finding the blackguard, Caine met the gaze of a bodak.
Foul magic enveloped the Apostle of Peace. The former War Wizard of Cormyr and current spokesman for the Bright Axes fell to the floor, lifeless.
Rusty snarled. Bodaks be damned! This time, he would not fail. Opening his eyes and looking straight ahead, the dwarf strode purposefully to Caine’s fallen form. Along the way, he met the gaze of one of the bodak’s head on. The dwarf felt a tug on his soul, but he was made of stouter stuff than the two arcanists and the druid. Nothing would deter him, not even Death. Rusty reached out, and touched Caine’s body, finally discharging his spell.
A visible jolt passed from the dwarf’s hand and Caine’s body heaved. The sorcerer’s back arched stiffly as it took its first breath, and then relaxed. Rusty nodded. The spell worked, and had restored Caine back to life with no diminishing of the human’s soul, but he was still not conscious. The dwarf turned his attention to the two remaining bodaks. They were now going to be given their final repose.
The white-scaled orc, eyes still shut, listened for an enemy to beat on. Mistaking an echo for an enemy the half-dragon swung his greataxe repeatedly, only to strike air.
Grimm turned his attention to the nearest bodak. Several swings later, and another of the undead lay on the ground. Rusty looked the nearest bodak directly in the face as he completed his spell. A giant hammer of force struck the bodak, leaving only a crumpled shell and a pile of green goo. Casting the spell required a sacrifice from Rusty, and the dwarf felt his strength sapped away.
The half-dragon peeked out and saw that his ‘allies’ had all been destroyed. His only hope now was to finish off these cretins. Gripping his axe tightly, he charged at the dwarf, and leveled the Mystran with one mighty blow. Rusty fell to the ground, nearly unconscious. The dwarf helplessly watched as the half-dragon raised his axe, ready to deal the coup de grace.
The deathblow never fell. A small blade erupted out of the blackguards chest, and gouts of black blood spattered on Rusty’s face. A second small blade drove through, inches away from the first. The half-dragon looked down at the wounds, a look of disbelief on his face. The axe slipped from the orc’s hands and clanged to the ground. The blackguard staggered two steps, and then crashed on the floor, the pool of blood around it growing.
Tilly retrieved his blades, smiling at the injured (but very alive) dwarf. "You didn't think I had left you, now did you?"
The silence that accompanied the end of combat was deafening.
