Neverwinter Knight
First Post
Welcome & well met.Myconid Sage said:
I believe we're all looking forward to the update of the upcoming weekend!!! Go JollyDoc!
JollyDoc's Shackled City: FINAL POST [Updated 11/2!!]
I believe we're all looking forward to the update of the upcoming weekend!!! Go JollyDoc!
Neverwinter Knight
First Post
Depends...JollyDoc said:My wife will be out of town this weekend, leaving me with very little to do except work on my update...sad isn't it?
So will this weekend's update be twice as long?
Myconid Sage
First Post
Hello back to ya. It was an enjoyable read!
Myconid Sage
First Post
Hello back to ya. It is an enjoyable read and a great group of gamers. Also the your group's play style is very similar to my own group, so that has made it, that much more enjoyable.
PrimeAvatar
First Post
Let me second the great work by JollyDoc and the rest of his crew. Update!
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Thought I would toss you guys a little gem while we patiently await JollyDoc's update.
So "Asylum" has entered full-swing. The party (now a total of 9 PCs!!) enters Carceri after repeated attempts on their lives, some more successful than others, by the minions/spawns of the big A.
They ACTUALLY use diplomacy to solve a problem and not brute force.
Actual OOG dialogue by Rick (Kiko's player): "Hey guys talk faster or let's kick some ass, my Polymorph spell is wearing off!"
We finally make it to big A's "prison" and find that indiscriminately opening prison cells is a bad idea.
So "Asylum" has entered full-swing. The party (now a total of 9 PCs!!) enters Carceri after repeated attempts on their lives, some more successful than others, by the minions/spawns of the big A.
They ACTUALLY use diplomacy to solve a problem and not brute force.
Actual OOG dialogue by Rick (Kiko's player): "Hey guys talk faster or let's kick some ass, my Polymorph spell is wearing off!"
We finally make it to big A's "prison" and find that indiscriminately opening prison cells is a bad idea.
JollyDoc
Explorer
FOUNDATION OF FLAME PART 2: EVACUATION
The morkoth had long ago resigned itself to exile on this dismal plane. Its masters, the kopru, had summoned it some time in its long forgotten past to guard their deep, underwater lairs against the depredations of their ancient foes, the spellweavers. When their titanic battles finally resulted in cataclysm, both races were all but destroyed, leaving the morkoth stranded here. For centuries it had expanded its abode, tunneling deep caverns in the bedrock of the volcano, hunting the deep waters for prey and sport. When the humans had arrived, building their city in the crater above, it had found a new source of amusement. Periodically it would rise to the surface on a moonless night and take some unlucky swimmer or hapless fisherman back to its lair to feed, or to perform its own, twisted version of the experiments of its former masters. It had been content with this existence, and had never thought to escalate its predations upon the humans…until now. Like his masters of old, these parasites had somehow unleashed the fury of the volcano once again. The fires were rising, turning the waters of its abode into a boiling hell, forcing it to the surface in broad daylight. Already the morkoth’s skin was scalded and burned, the pain fueling its rage. The sight of the humans massed along the shoreline, looking like frightened sheep, only served to further its ire. They would pay for this! They should have been wiped clean from the caldera long ago, but now that mistake would be rectified. Though a prisoner of this plane, the morkoth still had limited access to its home in the Abyss, and now it opened the portal, calling to its lesser brethren.
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For a moment, the Bright Axes could only stare in mute awe at the creature moving across the surface of the lake. Its very presence was hypnotic, and though the townsfolk nearby had looks of horror upon their faces, they made no move to flee. Suddenly, in the midst of the crowd, three creatures appeared. They looked like anthropomorphic vultures, towering seven-feet on their clawed legs, with wickedly hooked beaks and talons where hands should be. Filthy, feathered wings sprouted from their backs. They shrieked an inhuman wail at the crowd, and then proceeded to tear into the dazed people. Grimm shook himself violently out of his stupor and turned quickly to his companions. “Rusty!” he roared. “They are vrocks! Demons from the Abyss. You and the others must stop them! Kiko, come with me! We have to intercept that behemoth before it reaches the shore!”
Rusty cursed himself for a fool for his lapse in attention. He immediately began barking orders to his comrades, instructing them to herd the Cauldronites from the dock to the relative safety of the warehouses. Then, realizing that the demons must have been summoned by magic, he quickly wove a dispelling prayer. Instantly, two of the fiends vanished as quickly as they had appeared. The last one, having no more innocents to prey on, turned its attention on the dwarven priest. “Come on then, ye beastie!” Rusty bellowed. As he braced himself for the attack, he called upon Mystra’s magic again, this time causing gleaming horns to sprout from his forehead, manifesting the celestial aspect of the holy cervidals. He lowered his head as the vrock charged, impaling the demon on the horns. The exalted magic of the weapons severed the fiend’s connection to the prime, sending it squealing back to the Abyss.
Grimm and Kiko flew across the lake towards the oncoming morkoth, Grimm with the aid of Dalthon’s magic, while Kiko used his winged boots. As they closed the distance to the beast, a sudden surge of magic energy washed over them. The morkoth had used its fiendish heritage to manifest a Blasphemy, magic of such evil that it had the power to weaken, and paralyze any creature of good heart. So it was with Grimm and Kiko. Both of them felt their limbs first grow limp and fatigued, and then instantly rigid, freezing them in place. Fortunately for both, the power of flight was a manifestation of the mind, and so they were spared an instant and violent death by willing themselves out of the morkoth’s attack path.
Back on shore, Dalthon watched the battle above the lake with growing apprehension. He could see the effects of the morkoth’s magic on his friends, and knew they had little chance of escaping. He began an incantation and sent a barrage of flaming missiles streaking over the water towards the demonic creature. Instead of striking the morkoth, as he’d expected, they seemed to ricochet off the creature’s hide and come straight back at him! Dalthon reeled in pain and disbelief as the magic missiles struck him. Never had his magic behaved this way! What new manner of evil was this?
Grimm willed himself in a broad, circular path behind the morkoth, maintaining a distance of some sixty feet. His intent was not just to follow the creature, but to bring it just within the effective area of a special form of magic imbued upon him by Gunther. The little dwarf had enchanted the half-ogre’s breastplate that very morning. Now, it shown with brightness and intensity of the sun, but instead of radiating heat, it shed pure holy power, enough to cause pain to any denizen of the lower realms or their offspring. The morkoth felt the burn of the celestial brilliance on its skin, and knew the creature following it was the source, but it dared not turn upon its tormentor yet. It was barely maintaining itself aloft above the boiling lake water as it was. It had not used its wings in centuries, and the effort of flight was taxing. When it reached the safety of dry land, it would deal with the insect that continued to sting it.
Kiko, having willed his flight directly away from the morkoth, was the first one to reach the shore. As his feet touched the ground, he collapsed in a paralyzed heap. Gunther quickly rushed to the monk’s side, saw that he still breathed, and ascertained the nature of his affliction. Fortunately for Kiko, Gunther knew a counter to the dark spell that had ensnared him. The theurge began chanting, and in a moment, the monk felt not only movement return to his limbs, but his strength as well.
Rusty had seen Dalthon’s magic deflect off the morkoth, and so he assumed his own would as well, but he also knew that the horns of the cervidal could banish extra planar creatures back to their homes. Seeing no other choice, he quaffed a magical potion, which would enable him to fly, and charged the fiend. The morkoth saw the crazed dwarf coming, but try as it might, it could not bat the annoying thing away. Rusty impaled the monster with his horns, but to his dismay, they barely made a scratch on the demon’s thick hide, and they certainly did not dismiss it as the priest had hoped. Then, seeing Grimm approaching from behind the morkoth, Rusty had a better idea. He too had the ability to neutralize paralytic effects, and he knew that Grimm was better at this whole hand-to-hand thing than he was.
Dalthon shook of the lingering effects of his own magic and wracked his brain for an answer as to why it had malfunctioned. He could only imagine that the monster had some variation of a Shield spell in place, one that reflected the missiles rather than just deflected them. He resolved to try another tactic, and this time he sent three rays of scorching fire at the fiend, but once again his dweomer was turned back on him, and the sorcerer suddenly found himself in dire straits.
“Dalthon,” he heard a familiar voice cry from the vicinity of the warehouses. Turning, he saw Shensen Tesseril standing there. “Do not target the morkoth directly!” she shouted. “Use broader magic! Like this!” Gesturing grandly, she called out a spell unfamiliar to the sorcerer, and instantly, a column of fire erupted from the sky, engulfing the morkoth. The creature roared in pain, its flight wavering, almost plunging it into the lake.
Tilly had been quietly observing the battle from the shadows of the warehouses. Though he was no coward, he knew these types of situations were not his forte. Still, he couldn’t stand idly by while his friends risked their lives, and potentially lost them. When he saw Shensen’s spell harm and distract the morkoth, he knew that it would be his only chance. The monster was now near enough to the docks that he could reach it from land. Darting quickly from shadow to shadow, the little rogue closed the distance to the lake monster, and then began hacking viciously at its thick, armored skin.
The morkoth was close to total madness. Its skin still throbbed in agony from its burns, and now it burned even more furiously from the spell that had struck it. The infuriating scorch of that accursed creature’s light still beat upon it, and now an ant was stinging its tentacles. It needed space, room to breath and gain a reprieve. Calling upon its most potent magic, it proceeded to suck the very moisture from the air around it, and even from the bodies of its assailants.
Tilly screamed as the Horrid Wilting spell washed over him, drying and cracking his skin and seeming to pull the very air from his lungs. Behind him, Kiko reeled as well, but it was a hideous cry of anguish from his right that caught his full attention. There, he saw Dalthon collapse, his skin pulled tightly around his bones, giving him a gaunt, skeletal look. It was obvious even to Tilly’s untrained eye that the sorcerer was dead before he hit the ground.
As the paralysis and weakness finally left him, Grimm charged. The morkoth was preoccupied with his companions, and so did not hear the half-ogre’s approach until it was too late. Before it could react, Grimm’s chain punched into its flesh again and again, ripping deep, terrible wounds. The great creature howled and shrieked, folding its wings against its body as it fell into the scalding waters of Cauldron’s lake, never to rise again.
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It was too late to use the revivification magic. As Gunther kneeled over Dalthon’s body, he knew that too much time had passed. The sorcerer was beyond his aid. “Shensen,” he said, calling over the druid. “We cannot delay the evacuation. Too many lives are at stake. Will you take Dalthon to Jenya? Perhaps her magic is powerful enough to recall his soul.” The Harper nodded silently, the picked up the emaciated and feather light corpse, and disappeared back into the teeming city streets.
“Well, its out of our hands for now,” Rusty said, gathering his gear. “We’ve still got a job to do, and it ain’t gonna get done any quicker by just standing around.” Earlier, the company had agreed that they would divide the city into sections, starting with the lakefront, and then work up and around towards the city gates. The morkoth’s attack had sent most of the dockside residents fleeing for their lives, and the district was mostly empty. The companions started towards the southeast now, in the direction of the livery stables and some of the less prominent merchants. No sooner had they turned onto Lava Avenue, than they began hearing distant shouts accompanied by a steadily rising rumble that overrode the constant rumble of the tremors. Suddenly, rounding a corner about a block away, a handful of people came running and screaming. A cloud of dust rose behind them as a herd of horses, goats and cattle stampeded into the street. An elderly woman who trailed behind the other folk tripped and fell and was quickly trampled by the animals. Gunther and Tilly quickly ran towards the fleeing townspeople, shoving and cajoling them into nearby alleyways and storefronts. Grimm and Kiko, meanwhile, stepped into the middle of the avenue, directly into the path of the herd. As the animals thundered ahead, Grimm swung his chain in a wide arc, snapping it before the lead animals, hoping to frighten them into halting. The animals were already in a full panicked rout, however, and Grimm was forced to leap aside as they continued their mad dash. Kiko was a fraction of a second too late. The herd completely overran the monk before he could dodge, and Rusty also found himself overwhelmed. The stampede never broke stride. The priest and the monk pulled themselves painfully to their feet, battered and bruised, but not seriously injured. “Alright,” Rusty snorted, “enough of the humanitarian approach. Who’s up for steaks tonight? Gunther! Follow my lead!” With that, the two dwarves began their spells, and in an eye-blink, a whirling wall of blades appeared in the path of the herd, while under their feet, the road became suddenly covered in slick grease. The terrified animals began slipping and sliding on the frictionless surface, and before they could slow their momentum, every one of them careened headlong into the blade barrier. What came out on the other side was no longer living, and no longer recognizable as livestock.
“That settles that,” Rusty said in satisfaction as he surveyed his handy work. His jubilation faded, however, when he saw the faces of the people they had just saved. They gaped in horror at the butchered animals, and then turned wary eyes on their ‘saviors.’ Slowly, and wordlessly, they began to disperse into the streets.
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As they continued to seek out stragglers and move them along in the directions of the gates, the Bright Axes came upon a tall tenement building, the windows on its top floor thrown open. A hysterical man leaned precariously out one of the windows, a wailing child clutched in his arms. On the street below, another man stood screaming up at the man in the window, gesticulating wildly and pointing at the ground floor.
Rusty strode towards the man on the street and the crowd of onlookers gathered there. “What’s going on here?” he shouted. “Don’t you people know this place is dangerous?”
“It’s my brother, Tomash,” the man babbled. “I can’t get him to come out! He won’t leave his home, and…the children! The children!”
“Alright, alright, calm down!” Rusty said. “We’ll handle this. Gunther, stay with this fella. I’m goin’ in. Kiko, see what you can do topside.” The priest then tried the door to the building, and found it locked. Lowering his shoulder, he slammed into the portal, smashing through it and into the entryway beyond.
“Stay out!” Tomash shouted from the upper window. “Don’t come in here! I’m warning you!”
Kiko quickly commanded the small wings on his boots into action, and lifted into the air. “Please sir,” the monk said placatingly as he ascended. “We’re only trying to help.”
“No!” Tomash yelled, “I won’t let you take me!” He jerked away from the window so suddenly that he lost his tenuous grip on the struggling infant, sending it plummeting towards the street. “My baby!” he wailed.
On the street, Tomash’ brother, Rhegin, screamed as well, “What are you people doing? You’ve killed my nephew!” Gunther grabbed the man by the tunic as he rushed towards the building. “No! You mustn’t,” the theurge urged, “It’s too dangerous. Your brother will be safe!”
“Let go of me, you murderer!” Rhegin shouted, and twisting about in Gunther’s grip, he punched the little dwarf squarely in the jaw.
As the baby fell, Kiko’s reflexes took over. With split-second timing he dove beneath the child, scooping it into his arms. Tomash, however, saw none of this. The heart-broken man had retreated inside the building and shut the window.
Rusty, closely followed by Tilly, took the stairs two at a time. Finally reaching Tomash’ apartment, they burst in to find the man sitting against the far wall, his face buried in his hands as sobs wracked his body. “Now listen here,” Rusty said, advancing slowly. “We come to get ya outta here. It’s fer yer own good. This place is about to come down around our ears!”
“Murderers!” Tomash screamed, lunging towards the priest with hooked fingers. Tilly quickly stepped in front of the crazed father, sliding his foot between the man’s and sending him sprawling to the floor. The little halfling pounced on Tomash, wrenching his arm high behind his back, causing him to wail in agony. “Please!” Tomash pleaded, “Do anything you want to me! Just spare my daughter, Uhlia! She’s just a child!”
“Oh for Mystra’s sake,” Rusty sighed, rolling his eyes. “Doesn’t anybody in this burg understand the concept of hero? We ain’t here ta kill ya, ya nitwit! Now where’s the kid?”
Back on the street, Rhegin and Gunther rolled and scuffled on the pavement as the crowd looked on in stunned amazement. Suddenly, a shadow fell over the pair, and as Rhegin looked up, a ham-sized hand seized him by the scruff of the neck, and hauled him bodily into the air. “You’re going to do yourself an injury, little man,” Grimm rumbled. “Look! Your family is safe…all of them.” Rhegin turned and saw Rusty escorting Tomash from the crumbling building, Tilly right behind leading a young girl almost as tall as he. Kiko moved to hand the baby back to his father, and Tomash collapsed into tears once more.
“I…I guess we owe you and apology,” Rhegin stammered, “and our thanks.”
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An hour or so later, the Bright Axes found themselves on a narrow residential street that was choked with rubble. The shattered remains of a large house seemed to be the primary source of the debris. It had apparently collapsed fairly recently, as the dust had not yet settled and the rocks still shifted periodically. At that moment, a ragged figure staggered out of the rubble about ten yards away, and collapsed in the street. “Come on!” Rusty shouted, “There might be more trapped under there! Gunther, see what ye can do about that one!” As the Bright Axes approached the wreckage and began frantically heaving it aside, Rusty spotted a dozen or more citizens watching from a nearby alley. “Don’t just stand there, ya idgits!” he bellowed, “These are yer neighbors under here! Lend a hand!”
Just then, as Grimm shifted a particularly large stone, the entire mound began to crumble, sliding and collapsing in on itself. From below, muffled screams could be heard. Amazingly, the bystanders did not move. They continued to look on in morbid fascination.
“If ye won’t help willingly,” Rusty snarled, “then it’ll have ta be the hard way!” He began chanting, and as the magical incantation faded, he saw the peoples’ eyes glaze over. “Yer way outta here is blocked,” Rusty said to them in a reasonable tone of voice, “If ye want to escape with yer lives, ye’d best get to movin’ this pile…now!” Nodding agreeably, the now-compliant citizens set to work. In short order, the worst of the wreckage had been removed, and the trapped family exposed. Unfortunately, there were only two additional survivors. Four more lay dead.
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A long, and trying day seemed to only be getting longer. Though the Bright Axes were having some success at urging the citizenry towards the city gates and safety, they were also being emotionally taxed by the death and destruction they were witnessing. It was becoming more and more obvious that it would be a long time before Cauldron would be habitable again…if ever. Its people would certainly never be the same.
The company was making its way along Magma Avenue when they were abruptly brought up short by the sight of a massive fissure, at least fifty feet long, and half that wide, bisecting the street ahead. Steam rose from the crack in great jets. Suddenly, the ground convulsed sharply, and the edges of the fissure began to crumble a bit and started to slowly close up. A chorus of screams welled up from within the crack. “Here we go again,” Rusty sighed.
Kiko was the first to reach the pit. Heedless of the danger, he leaped in, using the sloping sides of the ravine to slow his fall to the bottom. A dozen or more people, at least half of them unconscious, were at the bottom of the rift. “Come with me!” Kiko called, quickly taking the nearest two by the hand. Closing his eyes and concentrating, the monk briefly stepped between dimensions with his passengers, reappearing on the street above.
“Nice work,” Rusty called to his friend, and then following the monk’s lead, he too jumped into the ravine, albeit with quite a bit less grace. Landing hard on the bottom, the priest quickly regained his feet. Reaching into his cloak pocket, he drew out what appeared to be a folded black handkerchief. Setting it on the ground, he began unfolding it bit by bit until it seemed a large, dark circle lay there. “Get in,” Rusty commanded to the dumbstruck townsfolk. When he saw that they did not understand, he shoved his hand into the circle…and through it, revealing it to be an actual hole in the fabric of reality. “Get in!” he said again. “You’ll be safe. Safer than here, anyway.” Four of the remaining folk grabbed two of the unconscious ones and then lowered themselves thru the hole. “Hold yer breath!” Rusty called down to them, and then he grabbed the edges of the pit and folded it neatly back into its original square, and then tucked it into his pocket.
“Grimm,” Kiko said, “if I might borrow your cloak for a moment?”
For an instant, Grimm didn’t follow the monk’s logic, but then understanding dawned on his sloped brow. He unfastened the cape and handed it to Kiko, when once more leaped into the rift. When he landed, he tied the cloak about his neck, then called three more of the trapped people to him. Locking hands with them, this time he used the magic of the cape to travel between dimensions, once more appearing right where he’d left.
“Gunther! Rope!” Rusty called from the bottom of the ravine. The theurge obediently lowered a line to his master, and began hauling him up. Rusty reached street level, and quickly began unfolding his portable hole once more. “Get yer carcass down there,” he shouted at Gunther, indicating the rift. “Yer magic’s as good as Kiko’s. There’s still two more down there unconscious. Gunther nodded and then shimmied down the rope. Once on the bottom, he moved quickly to the last two citizens, but discovered that one was already dead. Grabbing the last one, he too Dimension Doored back to the street. In due course, the Bright Axes managed to revive the unconscious townsfolk and sent them on their way with their neighbors. Then the companions continued on their own path, knowing there was still much to be done.
The morkoth had long ago resigned itself to exile on this dismal plane. Its masters, the kopru, had summoned it some time in its long forgotten past to guard their deep, underwater lairs against the depredations of their ancient foes, the spellweavers. When their titanic battles finally resulted in cataclysm, both races were all but destroyed, leaving the morkoth stranded here. For centuries it had expanded its abode, tunneling deep caverns in the bedrock of the volcano, hunting the deep waters for prey and sport. When the humans had arrived, building their city in the crater above, it had found a new source of amusement. Periodically it would rise to the surface on a moonless night and take some unlucky swimmer or hapless fisherman back to its lair to feed, or to perform its own, twisted version of the experiments of its former masters. It had been content with this existence, and had never thought to escalate its predations upon the humans…until now. Like his masters of old, these parasites had somehow unleashed the fury of the volcano once again. The fires were rising, turning the waters of its abode into a boiling hell, forcing it to the surface in broad daylight. Already the morkoth’s skin was scalded and burned, the pain fueling its rage. The sight of the humans massed along the shoreline, looking like frightened sheep, only served to further its ire. They would pay for this! They should have been wiped clean from the caldera long ago, but now that mistake would be rectified. Though a prisoner of this plane, the morkoth still had limited access to its home in the Abyss, and now it opened the portal, calling to its lesser brethren.
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For a moment, the Bright Axes could only stare in mute awe at the creature moving across the surface of the lake. Its very presence was hypnotic, and though the townsfolk nearby had looks of horror upon their faces, they made no move to flee. Suddenly, in the midst of the crowd, three creatures appeared. They looked like anthropomorphic vultures, towering seven-feet on their clawed legs, with wickedly hooked beaks and talons where hands should be. Filthy, feathered wings sprouted from their backs. They shrieked an inhuman wail at the crowd, and then proceeded to tear into the dazed people. Grimm shook himself violently out of his stupor and turned quickly to his companions. “Rusty!” he roared. “They are vrocks! Demons from the Abyss. You and the others must stop them! Kiko, come with me! We have to intercept that behemoth before it reaches the shore!”
Rusty cursed himself for a fool for his lapse in attention. He immediately began barking orders to his comrades, instructing them to herd the Cauldronites from the dock to the relative safety of the warehouses. Then, realizing that the demons must have been summoned by magic, he quickly wove a dispelling prayer. Instantly, two of the fiends vanished as quickly as they had appeared. The last one, having no more innocents to prey on, turned its attention on the dwarven priest. “Come on then, ye beastie!” Rusty bellowed. As he braced himself for the attack, he called upon Mystra’s magic again, this time causing gleaming horns to sprout from his forehead, manifesting the celestial aspect of the holy cervidals. He lowered his head as the vrock charged, impaling the demon on the horns. The exalted magic of the weapons severed the fiend’s connection to the prime, sending it squealing back to the Abyss.
Grimm and Kiko flew across the lake towards the oncoming morkoth, Grimm with the aid of Dalthon’s magic, while Kiko used his winged boots. As they closed the distance to the beast, a sudden surge of magic energy washed over them. The morkoth had used its fiendish heritage to manifest a Blasphemy, magic of such evil that it had the power to weaken, and paralyze any creature of good heart. So it was with Grimm and Kiko. Both of them felt their limbs first grow limp and fatigued, and then instantly rigid, freezing them in place. Fortunately for both, the power of flight was a manifestation of the mind, and so they were spared an instant and violent death by willing themselves out of the morkoth’s attack path.
Back on shore, Dalthon watched the battle above the lake with growing apprehension. He could see the effects of the morkoth’s magic on his friends, and knew they had little chance of escaping. He began an incantation and sent a barrage of flaming missiles streaking over the water towards the demonic creature. Instead of striking the morkoth, as he’d expected, they seemed to ricochet off the creature’s hide and come straight back at him! Dalthon reeled in pain and disbelief as the magic missiles struck him. Never had his magic behaved this way! What new manner of evil was this?
Grimm willed himself in a broad, circular path behind the morkoth, maintaining a distance of some sixty feet. His intent was not just to follow the creature, but to bring it just within the effective area of a special form of magic imbued upon him by Gunther. The little dwarf had enchanted the half-ogre’s breastplate that very morning. Now, it shown with brightness and intensity of the sun, but instead of radiating heat, it shed pure holy power, enough to cause pain to any denizen of the lower realms or their offspring. The morkoth felt the burn of the celestial brilliance on its skin, and knew the creature following it was the source, but it dared not turn upon its tormentor yet. It was barely maintaining itself aloft above the boiling lake water as it was. It had not used its wings in centuries, and the effort of flight was taxing. When it reached the safety of dry land, it would deal with the insect that continued to sting it.
Kiko, having willed his flight directly away from the morkoth, was the first one to reach the shore. As his feet touched the ground, he collapsed in a paralyzed heap. Gunther quickly rushed to the monk’s side, saw that he still breathed, and ascertained the nature of his affliction. Fortunately for Kiko, Gunther knew a counter to the dark spell that had ensnared him. The theurge began chanting, and in a moment, the monk felt not only movement return to his limbs, but his strength as well.
Rusty had seen Dalthon’s magic deflect off the morkoth, and so he assumed his own would as well, but he also knew that the horns of the cervidal could banish extra planar creatures back to their homes. Seeing no other choice, he quaffed a magical potion, which would enable him to fly, and charged the fiend. The morkoth saw the crazed dwarf coming, but try as it might, it could not bat the annoying thing away. Rusty impaled the monster with his horns, but to his dismay, they barely made a scratch on the demon’s thick hide, and they certainly did not dismiss it as the priest had hoped. Then, seeing Grimm approaching from behind the morkoth, Rusty had a better idea. He too had the ability to neutralize paralytic effects, and he knew that Grimm was better at this whole hand-to-hand thing than he was.
Dalthon shook of the lingering effects of his own magic and wracked his brain for an answer as to why it had malfunctioned. He could only imagine that the monster had some variation of a Shield spell in place, one that reflected the missiles rather than just deflected them. He resolved to try another tactic, and this time he sent three rays of scorching fire at the fiend, but once again his dweomer was turned back on him, and the sorcerer suddenly found himself in dire straits.
“Dalthon,” he heard a familiar voice cry from the vicinity of the warehouses. Turning, he saw Shensen Tesseril standing there. “Do not target the morkoth directly!” she shouted. “Use broader magic! Like this!” Gesturing grandly, she called out a spell unfamiliar to the sorcerer, and instantly, a column of fire erupted from the sky, engulfing the morkoth. The creature roared in pain, its flight wavering, almost plunging it into the lake.
Tilly had been quietly observing the battle from the shadows of the warehouses. Though he was no coward, he knew these types of situations were not his forte. Still, he couldn’t stand idly by while his friends risked their lives, and potentially lost them. When he saw Shensen’s spell harm and distract the morkoth, he knew that it would be his only chance. The monster was now near enough to the docks that he could reach it from land. Darting quickly from shadow to shadow, the little rogue closed the distance to the lake monster, and then began hacking viciously at its thick, armored skin.
The morkoth was close to total madness. Its skin still throbbed in agony from its burns, and now it burned even more furiously from the spell that had struck it. The infuriating scorch of that accursed creature’s light still beat upon it, and now an ant was stinging its tentacles. It needed space, room to breath and gain a reprieve. Calling upon its most potent magic, it proceeded to suck the very moisture from the air around it, and even from the bodies of its assailants.
Tilly screamed as the Horrid Wilting spell washed over him, drying and cracking his skin and seeming to pull the very air from his lungs. Behind him, Kiko reeled as well, but it was a hideous cry of anguish from his right that caught his full attention. There, he saw Dalthon collapse, his skin pulled tightly around his bones, giving him a gaunt, skeletal look. It was obvious even to Tilly’s untrained eye that the sorcerer was dead before he hit the ground.
As the paralysis and weakness finally left him, Grimm charged. The morkoth was preoccupied with his companions, and so did not hear the half-ogre’s approach until it was too late. Before it could react, Grimm’s chain punched into its flesh again and again, ripping deep, terrible wounds. The great creature howled and shrieked, folding its wings against its body as it fell into the scalding waters of Cauldron’s lake, never to rise again.
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It was too late to use the revivification magic. As Gunther kneeled over Dalthon’s body, he knew that too much time had passed. The sorcerer was beyond his aid. “Shensen,” he said, calling over the druid. “We cannot delay the evacuation. Too many lives are at stake. Will you take Dalthon to Jenya? Perhaps her magic is powerful enough to recall his soul.” The Harper nodded silently, the picked up the emaciated and feather light corpse, and disappeared back into the teeming city streets.
“Well, its out of our hands for now,” Rusty said, gathering his gear. “We’ve still got a job to do, and it ain’t gonna get done any quicker by just standing around.” Earlier, the company had agreed that they would divide the city into sections, starting with the lakefront, and then work up and around towards the city gates. The morkoth’s attack had sent most of the dockside residents fleeing for their lives, and the district was mostly empty. The companions started towards the southeast now, in the direction of the livery stables and some of the less prominent merchants. No sooner had they turned onto Lava Avenue, than they began hearing distant shouts accompanied by a steadily rising rumble that overrode the constant rumble of the tremors. Suddenly, rounding a corner about a block away, a handful of people came running and screaming. A cloud of dust rose behind them as a herd of horses, goats and cattle stampeded into the street. An elderly woman who trailed behind the other folk tripped and fell and was quickly trampled by the animals. Gunther and Tilly quickly ran towards the fleeing townspeople, shoving and cajoling them into nearby alleyways and storefronts. Grimm and Kiko, meanwhile, stepped into the middle of the avenue, directly into the path of the herd. As the animals thundered ahead, Grimm swung his chain in a wide arc, snapping it before the lead animals, hoping to frighten them into halting. The animals were already in a full panicked rout, however, and Grimm was forced to leap aside as they continued their mad dash. Kiko was a fraction of a second too late. The herd completely overran the monk before he could dodge, and Rusty also found himself overwhelmed. The stampede never broke stride. The priest and the monk pulled themselves painfully to their feet, battered and bruised, but not seriously injured. “Alright,” Rusty snorted, “enough of the humanitarian approach. Who’s up for steaks tonight? Gunther! Follow my lead!” With that, the two dwarves began their spells, and in an eye-blink, a whirling wall of blades appeared in the path of the herd, while under their feet, the road became suddenly covered in slick grease. The terrified animals began slipping and sliding on the frictionless surface, and before they could slow their momentum, every one of them careened headlong into the blade barrier. What came out on the other side was no longer living, and no longer recognizable as livestock.
“That settles that,” Rusty said in satisfaction as he surveyed his handy work. His jubilation faded, however, when he saw the faces of the people they had just saved. They gaped in horror at the butchered animals, and then turned wary eyes on their ‘saviors.’ Slowly, and wordlessly, they began to disperse into the streets.
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As they continued to seek out stragglers and move them along in the directions of the gates, the Bright Axes came upon a tall tenement building, the windows on its top floor thrown open. A hysterical man leaned precariously out one of the windows, a wailing child clutched in his arms. On the street below, another man stood screaming up at the man in the window, gesticulating wildly and pointing at the ground floor.
Rusty strode towards the man on the street and the crowd of onlookers gathered there. “What’s going on here?” he shouted. “Don’t you people know this place is dangerous?”
“It’s my brother, Tomash,” the man babbled. “I can’t get him to come out! He won’t leave his home, and…the children! The children!”
“Alright, alright, calm down!” Rusty said. “We’ll handle this. Gunther, stay with this fella. I’m goin’ in. Kiko, see what you can do topside.” The priest then tried the door to the building, and found it locked. Lowering his shoulder, he slammed into the portal, smashing through it and into the entryway beyond.
“Stay out!” Tomash shouted from the upper window. “Don’t come in here! I’m warning you!”
Kiko quickly commanded the small wings on his boots into action, and lifted into the air. “Please sir,” the monk said placatingly as he ascended. “We’re only trying to help.”
“No!” Tomash yelled, “I won’t let you take me!” He jerked away from the window so suddenly that he lost his tenuous grip on the struggling infant, sending it plummeting towards the street. “My baby!” he wailed.
On the street, Tomash’ brother, Rhegin, screamed as well, “What are you people doing? You’ve killed my nephew!” Gunther grabbed the man by the tunic as he rushed towards the building. “No! You mustn’t,” the theurge urged, “It’s too dangerous. Your brother will be safe!”
“Let go of me, you murderer!” Rhegin shouted, and twisting about in Gunther’s grip, he punched the little dwarf squarely in the jaw.
As the baby fell, Kiko’s reflexes took over. With split-second timing he dove beneath the child, scooping it into his arms. Tomash, however, saw none of this. The heart-broken man had retreated inside the building and shut the window.
Rusty, closely followed by Tilly, took the stairs two at a time. Finally reaching Tomash’ apartment, they burst in to find the man sitting against the far wall, his face buried in his hands as sobs wracked his body. “Now listen here,” Rusty said, advancing slowly. “We come to get ya outta here. It’s fer yer own good. This place is about to come down around our ears!”
“Murderers!” Tomash screamed, lunging towards the priest with hooked fingers. Tilly quickly stepped in front of the crazed father, sliding his foot between the man’s and sending him sprawling to the floor. The little halfling pounced on Tomash, wrenching his arm high behind his back, causing him to wail in agony. “Please!” Tomash pleaded, “Do anything you want to me! Just spare my daughter, Uhlia! She’s just a child!”
“Oh for Mystra’s sake,” Rusty sighed, rolling his eyes. “Doesn’t anybody in this burg understand the concept of hero? We ain’t here ta kill ya, ya nitwit! Now where’s the kid?”
Back on the street, Rhegin and Gunther rolled and scuffled on the pavement as the crowd looked on in stunned amazement. Suddenly, a shadow fell over the pair, and as Rhegin looked up, a ham-sized hand seized him by the scruff of the neck, and hauled him bodily into the air. “You’re going to do yourself an injury, little man,” Grimm rumbled. “Look! Your family is safe…all of them.” Rhegin turned and saw Rusty escorting Tomash from the crumbling building, Tilly right behind leading a young girl almost as tall as he. Kiko moved to hand the baby back to his father, and Tomash collapsed into tears once more.
“I…I guess we owe you and apology,” Rhegin stammered, “and our thanks.”
_____________________________________________
An hour or so later, the Bright Axes found themselves on a narrow residential street that was choked with rubble. The shattered remains of a large house seemed to be the primary source of the debris. It had apparently collapsed fairly recently, as the dust had not yet settled and the rocks still shifted periodically. At that moment, a ragged figure staggered out of the rubble about ten yards away, and collapsed in the street. “Come on!” Rusty shouted, “There might be more trapped under there! Gunther, see what ye can do about that one!” As the Bright Axes approached the wreckage and began frantically heaving it aside, Rusty spotted a dozen or more citizens watching from a nearby alley. “Don’t just stand there, ya idgits!” he bellowed, “These are yer neighbors under here! Lend a hand!”
Just then, as Grimm shifted a particularly large stone, the entire mound began to crumble, sliding and collapsing in on itself. From below, muffled screams could be heard. Amazingly, the bystanders did not move. They continued to look on in morbid fascination.
“If ye won’t help willingly,” Rusty snarled, “then it’ll have ta be the hard way!” He began chanting, and as the magical incantation faded, he saw the peoples’ eyes glaze over. “Yer way outta here is blocked,” Rusty said to them in a reasonable tone of voice, “If ye want to escape with yer lives, ye’d best get to movin’ this pile…now!” Nodding agreeably, the now-compliant citizens set to work. In short order, the worst of the wreckage had been removed, and the trapped family exposed. Unfortunately, there were only two additional survivors. Four more lay dead.
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A long, and trying day seemed to only be getting longer. Though the Bright Axes were having some success at urging the citizenry towards the city gates and safety, they were also being emotionally taxed by the death and destruction they were witnessing. It was becoming more and more obvious that it would be a long time before Cauldron would be habitable again…if ever. Its people would certainly never be the same.
The company was making its way along Magma Avenue when they were abruptly brought up short by the sight of a massive fissure, at least fifty feet long, and half that wide, bisecting the street ahead. Steam rose from the crack in great jets. Suddenly, the ground convulsed sharply, and the edges of the fissure began to crumble a bit and started to slowly close up. A chorus of screams welled up from within the crack. “Here we go again,” Rusty sighed.
Kiko was the first to reach the pit. Heedless of the danger, he leaped in, using the sloping sides of the ravine to slow his fall to the bottom. A dozen or more people, at least half of them unconscious, were at the bottom of the rift. “Come with me!” Kiko called, quickly taking the nearest two by the hand. Closing his eyes and concentrating, the monk briefly stepped between dimensions with his passengers, reappearing on the street above.
“Nice work,” Rusty called to his friend, and then following the monk’s lead, he too jumped into the ravine, albeit with quite a bit less grace. Landing hard on the bottom, the priest quickly regained his feet. Reaching into his cloak pocket, he drew out what appeared to be a folded black handkerchief. Setting it on the ground, he began unfolding it bit by bit until it seemed a large, dark circle lay there. “Get in,” Rusty commanded to the dumbstruck townsfolk. When he saw that they did not understand, he shoved his hand into the circle…and through it, revealing it to be an actual hole in the fabric of reality. “Get in!” he said again. “You’ll be safe. Safer than here, anyway.” Four of the remaining folk grabbed two of the unconscious ones and then lowered themselves thru the hole. “Hold yer breath!” Rusty called down to them, and then he grabbed the edges of the pit and folded it neatly back into its original square, and then tucked it into his pocket.
“Grimm,” Kiko said, “if I might borrow your cloak for a moment?”
For an instant, Grimm didn’t follow the monk’s logic, but then understanding dawned on his sloped brow. He unfastened the cape and handed it to Kiko, when once more leaped into the rift. When he landed, he tied the cloak about his neck, then called three more of the trapped people to him. Locking hands with them, this time he used the magic of the cape to travel between dimensions, once more appearing right where he’d left.
“Gunther! Rope!” Rusty called from the bottom of the ravine. The theurge obediently lowered a line to his master, and began hauling him up. Rusty reached street level, and quickly began unfolding his portable hole once more. “Get yer carcass down there,” he shouted at Gunther, indicating the rift. “Yer magic’s as good as Kiko’s. There’s still two more down there unconscious. Gunther nodded and then shimmied down the rope. Once on the bottom, he moved quickly to the last two citizens, but discovered that one was already dead. Grabbing the last one, he too Dimension Doored back to the street. In due course, the Bright Axes managed to revive the unconscious townsfolk and sent them on their way with their neighbors. Then the companions continued on their own path, knowing there was still much to be done.
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