JollyDoc's Savage Tide-Updated 10/8!
From wizards.com's discussion of BoNS:
Crusader: The crusader is one of the three martial adept standard classes described in Chapter 1. Crusaders are warriors who use their devotion and zeal to power martial maneuvers.
Oh, and the basic deal with calculus is investigating the rate at which things change, and learning how such knowledge can be useful from both a theoretical and applied perspective. Or so my professors keep telling me.
Crusader: The crusader is one of the three martial adept standard classes described in Chapter 1. Crusaders are warriors who use their devotion and zeal to power martial maneuvers.
Oh, and the basic deal with calculus is investigating the rate at which things change, and learning how such knowledge can be useful from both a theoretical and applied perspective. Or so my professors keep telling me.
Ika_Greybeard
First Post
ummm Crusader's hit stuff and special things Happen. That is all I know
Really it is too hard or wild to explain (atleast for me) all there is about the crusader and all they can do especially in a written form unless I could copy and paste the book.
Lets just say BONS gives a martial Character a little more utility to help heal him and his allies and do different abilities other then just hitting stuff.
Really it is too hard or wild to explain (atleast for me) all there is about the crusader and all they can do especially in a written form unless I could copy and paste the book.
Lets just say BONS gives a martial Character a little more utility to help heal him and his allies and do different abilities other then just hitting stuff.
Hammerhead
Explorer
Aren't you supposed to be some kind of engineer? And all your friends are doctors?
I'm pretty sure you're all eggheads.
I'm pretty sure you're all eggheads.
JollyDoc
Explorer
A QUESTION OF LOYALTY
Anwar looked with interest over Lars’ shoulder as the rogue finished the map.
“So ye say the bulk o’the guards are waitin’ here, in th’holdin’ area, and here in th’trainin’ room?”
“Yes,” Lars nodded, eyeing the bard suspiciously and then looking to Thrisp for approval.
“And what about th’leaders?” Anwar asked. “Ye said that rat Vanthus was hold up som’eres with th’Dragon Lady, but what about this other feller, Reftun?”
“I thought ye said ye were Penkus,” Lars said skeptically. “How come ye don’t remember all this yerself?”
“Arrrr!” the bard snapped. “I told ye once already! Try feedin’ on yer own lads fer two weeks and then come back here and draw tha’ same map, ye lubber!”
Lars gulped, and pointed to another spot on the diagram. “Reftun’s here…in th’interrogation room. He’ll be havin’ one o’the boys with’im.”
“Describe’im t’me!” Anwar demanded, and the shaken rogue did so, though not with as much detail as the bard would have liked.
“Can ye tell us anythin’ else that might be helpin’ lad?”
Lars thought for a moment then shook his head. When he did, Anwar turned to the others. “Kill them,” he commanded.
Instantly Thrisp’s enchantment was broken, and the two thieves went for their rapiers. Sepoto was faster. One swipe of his chain cracked the ribs of Lars’ companion, sending him to the floor wheezing and coughing up blood before he went still. Lars himself was surrounded on all sides, but it was an arrow from Anwar’s own bow that took him in the throat and ended his lawless days.
“I say we find Kersh Reftun first,” Anwar said, shouldering his bow. “Perhaps with a little persuasion, or manipulation, we might be able to use him to our advantage.” The others agreed and, following the map, made their way around the area the Lotus Dragon members called the Crucible until they finally stood outside a secret door which Lars had indicated led to Reftun’s chambers.
After a nod from Thrisp that the door was safe, Samson touched the hidden stud which caused the portal to pop open. The purpose of the macabre room on the far side was obvious. A stretching rack dominated the northwest corner, and an open iron maiden stood in the southeast. To the southwest was a sizzling brazier of coals. A screaming man, dressed in rags, was tied to the rack, while a man matching Lars’ description of Kersh Reftun stood heating an iron in the brazier. He was dressed in a leather butcher’s apron, from which hung an assortment of flensing knives. As the door opened, he turned towards it, branding iron in hand, an odd smile on his face. The smile quickly faded, however, when a shaft from Gotr’s bow sprouted from his left shoulder. Sepoto and Samson swirled past the kneeling gnome and closed with the torturer as he moved towards a far door.
“Going somewhere?” the goliath asked as he coiled his chain around the man’s ankle and yanked it from under him. He tried to rise, but a swift clout from Samson’s morningstar put him down for good.
“So much for negotiating,” Anwar sighed as he entered the room and surveyed the scene. Then his eyes went to the prisoner, still tied to the rack.
“What’s yer story?” he asked as he strolled casually over.
“M…my name’s Sharp…L…Lufton Sharp,” the man stammered. “I’m a silk merchant. The Dragon’s kidnapped me when I wouldn’t pay them protection money. Can you cut me loose?”
Anwar eyed the man in silence. Something about his tone and mannerisms struck the bard as false.
“Sure,” he said after a moment, drawing a dagger from his belt. “I’ll set ye free. Just hold still.” He leaned forward, as if to cut the bonds holding Sharp’s wrists, but at the last moment, he brought the blade down towards the man’s throat.
“Anwar!” Thrisp shouted in alarm, but then he saw that the prisoner move with amazing speed, rolling his body away from Anwar, and easily slipping free of the ropes at the same time.
“Stop him!” Anwar cried as Sharp leaped from the table, and dove towards the brazier. As he did so, his clothing shimmered, replaced by a chain shirt. A Lotus Dragon tattoo was plainly visible on one shoulder.
“C’mon then, ye dogs!” he jeered as he seized one of the hot irons. As he raised it, however, Samson swung his cudgel, crushing the his collar bone. He doubled over in pain, but met Sepoto’s chain on the way down, his forehead opening to the bone. He tumbled to the floor, his life’s blood spilling across the stones.
“Kersh Reftun, I presume,” Anwar said dryly as he stood over the body. “Well, he might still be of some use after all.” The bard stripped the mail from the torturer’s corpse, donning it himself. Concentrating, he willed the glamer of the armor to appear as a leather apron. Then he quickly went to work completing his disguise, until it seemed as if the Lotus Dragon lieutenant lived again. Afterwards, a quick search of Reftun’s bed chamber uncovered a haphazardly stacked pile of gear, including a suit of chainmail and a spiked shield.
“Lars said the cell block was beyond here,” Thrisp observed. “Perhaps the Lotus Dragons really do have an unwilling guest in their keeping.”
_____________________________________________-
Xerxes heard the door of the torture chamber open, and the familiar bootsteps of his tormentor approaching. Involuntarily, the dwarf drew back from the bars of his cell, conditioned by hours on unending torment to fear that tread. Then Kersh Reftun’s sneering face was peering in at him again, and Xerxes felt his bladder loosen of its own accord.
“I have that effect on people sometimes,” the torturer said. “Who are you?”
Xerxes was perplexed. Was he to suffer mental torture now as well as physical? Gathering up what little dignity he still had, he drew himself to his full height.
“Ye know who I am, ye devil. If yer gonna kill me, then have done with it.”
“Kill you?” Reftun laughed. “I don’t know you well enough to kill you…yet. You understandably have me confused with someone else, but let’s let that pass for the moment. I did in fact kill the last prisoner I met, but he forced my hand by lying to me. I’ll ask once more…who are you?”
So it was to be mind games then, Xerxes sighed to himself. Very well. He would answer, for if he didn’t, he knew that he would endure even more suffering until he was forced to.
“Me name’s Xerxes. I was hired by Zelkarune’s Horns as a bodyguard for Keltar Islaran…a job I failed at when yer mates killed’im in his sleep. Now here I sit until yer done with yer fun, and then I’ll join me forefather’s in Moradin’s hall.”
The torturer eyed him for another moment, then turned and walked away. A short time later he returned, this time accompanied by a motley crew that the dwarf had not seen before. There were two gnomes, a goliath, if he wasn’t mistaken, and three humans, one with glowing red eyes. Reftun unlocked the cell door, and the goliath tossed all of the dwarf’s gear at his feet. Xerxes stared at them suspiciously, suspecting some new trick.
“It’s all right,” one of the gnomes said. “My name’s Thrisp. My companions and I are here to dismantle the Lotus Dragons. We killed your tormentor already. Show him Sepoto.” The goliath reached into a dripping sack and pulled out Kersh Reftun’s head. Xerxes looked in confusion from the gory trophy to the man who had just opened his cell and back again.
“He’s with us,” Thrisp said. “His name is Anwar, and he is a master of disguise. He hopes to use Reftun’s face to aid us in further penetrating the guild. You’re free to go as you like, though I offer no guarantees for your safety on your own. You are also free to accompany us, if you’d prefer to extract your own pound of flesh from your captors.”
“But know this,” the one called Anwar said. “We’re not here to wet-nurse or baby-sit you. You pull your weight, and you fight when we tell you, or so help me these will be the last tunnels you’ll ever see, dwarf.”
Xerxes pondered for a moment, then reached for his gear, lifting a brutally spiked shield.
“Just tell me who to kill,” he smiled.
__________________________________________
Still following Lars’ map, the company continued on towards what the rogue had marked as the Training Hall. He had warned them that a large group of guards waited there, but they knew that beyond this area was where Lars’ knowledge of the guild layout ended, and thus, they surmised, it was likely that was where they would find Vanthus and the Lady Dragon.
Anwar didn’t even bother with subterfuge when Samson flung open the door to the hall. The rank-and-file members of the Dragons were not his concern. They were merely an obstacle between his men and their target. The floor of the large room was covered with thick, padded mats. Throughout the chamber stood all manner of target dummies made of clothes and armor stuffed with straw, some of which wore bell-studded coats with numerous pockets, and others of which were draped with manacles and chains hung with cheap-looking padlocks. In the western section, a wooden stage sat a foot off the floor, and a padded throne flanked by potted plants sat upon it. Six of the Lotus Dragons stood poised around the perimeter of the hall, hand-crossbows cocked and loaded. Samson didn’t hesitate after he had the door open, letting his momentum carry him towards the nearest rogue before he could fire. The dragon shaman slammed his spiked morningstar into the ruffian’s midsection, doubling him over as the air was driven from his lungs. Stunned, the thug tried to stumble back and put some space between himself and his attacker, but Samson moved with him, cracking his temple with a second blow. This one, the Lotus Dragon didn’t get up from.
Xerxes was next in, a feral snarl on his lips. Ducking behind his shield, he charged across the room towards a second thief. The rogue tried to bring his weapon to bear, but the burly dwarf was faster than he looked, driving the man back against the far wall. One-by-one, Xerxes’ new allies filed into the room. The human named Marius was already chanting a spell, and when he finished it, he chucked what looked to be a ball of pure fire at a third enemy, setting him alight, and distracting him completely from the battle. Unfortunately, the display served to distract the dwarf as well, a mistake he paid for a moment later when one of the rogues finally got off a shot, his dart striking the mercenary in his unguarded right hand. Xerxes felt the tell-tale burn of poison on the bolt, but his hearty dwarven constitution protected him from its full effect.
The flaming thief danced about madly, slapping at his smoldering clothes, but a combined magical barrage of acid and a missile of light from Marius and Basil ended his futile efforts for good. Meanwhile, a few arcane words from Thrisp, followed by a flash of light, caused another of the ruffians to drop his weapon and rub dazedly at his eyes. Samson was on him immediately, hammering into the man’s leg. Simultaneously, Gotr scored a lucky hit with his bow on the same leg. Growling in pain and anger, the Lotus Dragon shook off the effects of the gnome’s spell, and drew his rapier. He rushed towards the dragon shaman, but as he passed Xerxes, the dwarf struck at the already injured leg with his shield. Staggering, the thief charged on. Suddenly, from Samson’s flank, another rogue attacked, his rapier piercing deep into the dragon shaman’s ribs. Samson felt himself gasping for air. At that moment, the wounded thief struck, falling forward and driving his own foil into Samson’s gut, collapsing to the ground in a pool of his own blood as he did so.
Sepoto saw Samson wavering, and moved quickly towards his friend. In his haste, however, he failed to notice one of the rogues dart from behind a training dummy, stabbing his blade beneath the goliath’s right armpit. Sepoto hissed in pain, turning reflexively and slamming his chain into the ruffian’s face, fracturing his skull in numerous places. As the rogue died, the crusader ripped a portion of his ebbing life-force from him, using the healing stance he had learned from the priest’s of Savras, and transferred it to Samson, closing some of the dragon shaman’s wounds.
Samson, feeling some of his strength returning, turned to parry the attack of another rogue rushing towards him. Spinning his morningstar inside the man’s defenses, he jammed its spiked head into the thief’s throat. Then, continuing the same motion, he connected solidly with the skull of the rogue who had punctured his lungs. Both men fell and did not rise. The room was momentarily silent. In less than a minute, the little band had dispatched all six of the guards.
“Here boy, lemme have a look at that,” Gotr said, stowing his bow and examining Samson’s wound. “I’m not sure if this’ll work, but I’ll give it a try.” The priest held out his symbol of office, and spoke the words to what sounded like a prayer, though not a very sincere one. Yet, to Samson’s immense relief, it appeared to be successful, and his remaining injuries healed completely.
“Hmmph…” Gotr muttered. “Probably just beginner’s luck.”
_________________________________________________
The party was now in unfamiliar territory. Beyond the Training Hall, the map ended. A door in the east wall of the room led to what appeared to be a storage room, with several target dummies heaped on a table, and a single chair pushed into one corner. Another door on the other side led to a short, L-shaped corridor. Sepoto took the lead, with Xerxes following. The others came behind in single-file. The hall abruptly ended with a choice of two doors, one to the east and one south. Sepoto chose the eastern door to keep them headed in that general direction. He was stunned when he did so, for looming right on the other side was a hissing rhagodessa! For a moment the goliath’s mind flashed back to Ferox, killed in a matter of seconds by another of these beasts, and now here he was, with no room to maneuver in the cramped corridor, toe-to-toe with one.
Thinking fast, the crusader lowered his shoulder and slammed into the monster, attempting to push it back into the room it occupied so that he could gain some breathing room and his companions could assist him. The rhagodessa proved stronger. It’s six legs gripped the floor like vises and it didn’t budge an inch.
“Keep at’im!” Xerxes shouted from behind, and then the dwarf did something that truly impressed the goliath. Wedging his body between Sepoto and the door jamb, he chopped at the head of the rhagodessa, which was all he could see. The sharpened edge of his shield opened a nasty gash in the creature’s carapace, and green blood gushed out. This gave Sepoto an idea. Quickly, he opened the southern door, revealing a small privy. He stepped into it, freeing up the doorway, and Xerxes immediately slipped into the breach. The rhagodessa reared, and the dwarf drove the spike on his shield into its relatively soft underbelly. Screeching, the monster seized the mercenary with its forepalps, drawing him towards its slavering maw. Again Ferox’ death appeared in Sepoto’s mind.
“No!” he howled, and then he lashed out, hurling the barbed end of his chain through one of the beast’s multi-faceted eyes. It jittered and shook as it dropped Xerxes and flipped onto its back, all of its legs curling towards its abdomen.
“Strong work, gentlemen,” Anwar said as he strode casually into the room.
“You might just work out yet,” he said to Xerxes, patting the dwarf on the head. Xerxes scowled at the bard, but knew better than to reply. The room the rhagodessa had occupied seemed empty, save for the sturdy chain locked to a collar around the beast’s thorax. The other end of the chain disappeared through a small hole in the northeast wall. Yet another closed door stood to the east.
The next chamber appeared to be some sort of war room. A large, hexagonal table made of oak took up the majority, surrounded by six chairs. The north wall bore a huge map of Tashluta, on which dozens of tiny flags had been placed. To the south, a five-foot tall and ten-foot wide slate bore a tangled mess of chalk scribblings. A winch handle protruded from the northwest corner. Anwar strolled over to the board. The writing seemed to consist mostly of the comings and goings of ships in the harbor, as well as notations on which ones had been, or where scheduled to be, holed. The bard smiled, however, as he read a small note in the upper right corner. It was a list of all their names (save Xerxes) inside a box. Alongside the list, in large letters was written, “VANTHUS! FIX THIS!”
“It would appear we’ve made an impression,” he said over his shoulder. Then his eyes fell on another note in a lower corner of the board, but this one was written in a language he did not understand. He called Basil and Marius over.
“It’s Aquan,” both of them said simultaneously. “The language of water-dwellers,” Basil continued. “It says something about paying the ixitxs by month’s end. It must be referring to a race of manta-like creatures, who’s name I can’t even begin to pronounce. They are known for being violent and evil. The Dragons must be using them to damage the ships in the harbor.”
“Anwar, have a look at this,” Thrisp interrupted from across the room, where he stood examining the wall map. The flags on the map were in three colors, red, blue and gold. A gold one protruded from the Vanderboren estate, while a red one was stuck in the Islaran estate and a blue on in the Kellani estate. Several of the Watch garrisons, including Sunrise and Shadowshore bore blue and gold flags, but the Champion’s District Watch had one of red, as did Cudgel District’s. The Thayan embassy also had one blue and one gold, as did the Chultan Trading Concern. Other blue flags marked the Dracktus estate, the Taxidermist Guild, and the Whaler’s Guild (this latter also bore gold). Other red flags included the Church of the Whirling Fury, the Temple of Anachtyr, the Lidu estate, and the Dawnhouse of Lathander.
“It would appear obvious that the blue flags mark allies of the Lotus Dragons,” Anwar observed, “while the red mark their enemies. I’m puzzled at the meaning of the gold one, however, especially the one on the Vanderboren estate.”
Thrisp nodded in agreement, all the while jotting down notes in a small book he carried. As he did so, he whispered under his breath in Undercommon, “This might be quite a lucrative opportunity for us.” Anwar glanced sharply at him, and then smiled.
“You’re finally learning,” he replied in the same tongue and tone.
When it became obvious that there was no further information to be had in the room, the group moved on. Another eastern door led to another hall, this one longer and straighter than the previous one. This time Xerxes took the lead. The corridor ended at a closed door, and after a nod from Sepoto, the dwarf opened it. An empty room greeted him, but it was not unoccupied. Standing just on the other side of the door, as if it had been waiting for him, was a grisly sight. To all appearances it was a bugbear, a hulking cousin to the goblins, but it was either horribly wounded, or terribly disfigured. Great swaths of its fur were missing, and in places muscle showed beneath rents in its flesh, and in other places, bone could be seen below that. Its lower jaw was missing, as was one eye. It clutched a large morningstar in one skeletal hand.
Sepoto quickly pulled the dwarf towards him, at the same time lashing out with his chain. Though the weapon scored the creature’s flesh deeply, there was no blood, and the monster apparently did not feel pain.
“Gotr!” the goliath shouted. “I don’t think this beast is alive! I think it’s another walking corpse!”
“Do you, now?” the gnome replied from further back. “And does your expertise on these matters tell you this? Being a janitor for a bunch of priests doesn’t make you one, boy! Why don’t you leave these matters to your betters?” Still, the little cleric pulled out his holy symbol, and held it before him. “By Oghma, I command you back to your tomb, restless spirit!” In answer, the mutilated bugbear slugged Xerxes with its cudgel, sending the dwarf stumbling back several feet, blood running down his face.
“See?” Gotr said smugly. “Just like I said. That thing’s no zombie. You wouldn’t know a zombie if it came up and ate your brains!”
Sepoto growled as he shoved Xerxes behind him, then stepped up to face the creature. They parried and traded blows for a moment, with the goliath taking more than he gave, until a swarm of blazing magic missiles streaked past, courtesy of Marius and Basil, burying themselves in the bugbear’s empty eye socket. It fell to the floor, sparks still fizzling in its skull.
“Zombie! Hah!” Gotr sneered, kicking at the dead thing as he and the others crossed the empty chamber to the far door.
________________________________________________
The opulence of the room in which they found themselves was a bit jarring after the austerity of the guild tunnels. The smooth plaster walls were painted violet, and delicately crafted silver lanterns flickered softly on the wall. A shelf to the north held several books, statuettes, stuffed animals, a crystal ball with a smoky red light at its core, and two coffers, one of darkwood and one of iron decorated with tiny jade bats. A five-foot wide landscape of Tashluta hung on the eastern wall, yet all the ships in the harbor flew flags depicting a serpentine dragon coiled around a lotus. A pair of overstuffed chairs sat beside a low table heaped with fruit and bottles of wine. To the south stood a lone wooden cupboard. The floor itself was adorned with a thick, deep purple carpet. An open door to the south led to what appeared to be a bedroom. As Sepoto opened the door, a lovely woman with long red hair tied back in a ponytail stretched languidly and rose with unsettling grace from one of the chairs. Her eyes sparkled like chips of green jade, and on one shoulder she wore a tattoo of a lotus, while on the other was an intricate dragon tattoo, its tail coiling down around her arm. She was dressed in gleaming black leathers and wore an ornate rapier on her hip. Standing beside her chair was a strange creature, which resembled a small dinosaur with a bright, yellow crest running from its head and down its back.
“So, you are Lavinia’s flunkies,” she said with a smile, though her voice was tinged with bitterness. “It’s obvious you are resourceful, as you’ve succeeded in dismantling what took me years to build. And here you are, ready to fight to the death, but for what? To serve the whims of some noble bitch? Allow me to make you a more lucrative offer. Join me. Help me to rebuild. I have plenty of money to do it, but with your help, the new Lotus Dragons could be stronger then ever.”
By this time, Anwar had entered the room, and the Lady Dragon stopped her speech. “Reftun?” she asked, puzzled. At that moment the creature at her side hissed something to her. Anwar understood the thing’s draconic tongue, and knew that it had pierced his disguise and told its mistress as much. The lady smiled as she looked up at the bard.
“Clever. You only prove my point. You are resourceful. Join your forces with mine and we will be unstoppable.”
“Perhaps, perhaps,” Anwar said, waving her offer aside. “But first to our reason for being here. Where is Vanthus Vanderboren? If we are to even consider your offer, the matter of this…person, will have to be resolved.”
“You concern yourself with trivialities,” she replied. “Vanthus is not here. I have sent him out of the city on a mission for me.”
Anwar sensed she was telling the truth and nodded. “Tell me this then,” he continued. “why should we accept your offer when we can just kill you now and take what’s yours?”
“You disappoint me,” she sighed. “How short-sighted of you. You think what you see here is valuable? This is but a fraction of what you could have when my ultimate plans are realized. When I control all of Tashluta’s shipping concerns, the rewards will be far more than you can imagine.”
“I can imagine quite a lot,” Anwar smiled. “Still, there is a question of loyalty. We can have it both ways…take what we see here, and still reap our reward from Lavinia. After all, she is my one true love.” He smiled, but his eyes were as cold as an adder’s. The Lady of the Lotus sketched a small bow.
“Well played, sir. I see that I have truly underestimated you, and I regret that we shall not have the opportunity to work together.” She drew her rapier casually, then spoke to her pet. “Guttugger, do your thing.”
The little reptile moved with surprising speed, darting to block the door behind Anwar, but Sepoto was only a fraction of a second slower. The goliath charged forward, shoving the beast all the way across the room. Samson, Xerxes and Gotr spilled into the room behind him, while Anwar slipped surreptitiously out. Guttugger, meanwhile, darted between Sepoto’s legs and lunged for Gotr. The gnome raised his bow defensively, but the little monster clamped its teeth down on his wrist. Then, as Xerxes moved to hedge it in, it turned, and snapped at the dwarf, leaving teeth marks in his thigh.
The Lady, meanwhile, maneuvered carefully about the perimeter of the room, trying to position herself behind Sepoto. The goliath moved like the wind, spinning his chain out and clipping her across her beautiful face, opening a large gash. She gasped, recoiling, and at the same time Xerxes struck with his shield, knocking the wind out of her.
“Leave her alive!” Anwar commanded. “Kill the lizard!”
In answer, Guttugger snarled and sank his teeth into Samson. He then whirled in a vicious circle, facing down all of his assailants who, for the moment, gave the little beast a wide berth. His mistress used the opportunity to dive between Xerxes and Sepoto, somersaulting to her feet behind Samson before darting into the open bedroom door. Samson quickly turned to follow, but by the time he reached her, she was standing at an open doorway, apparently a hidden portal that she had triggered. The dragon shaman rushed towards her, but she sidestepped easily, moving through the door, and closing it behind her. To Samson, the door seemed to disappear completely, leaving a blank wall in its place.
Guttugger saw his mistress leave, and knew he was on his own. He did not resent this, instead merely noting it as necessity. If the Lotus Dragons were to survive, Rowyn must live, and he would ensure her escape. He leaped towards the door where the gnome still stood. He suffered two scathing blows from the goliath and the dwarf as he moved, but he did not slow. Even a lucky shot from the cursed gnome’s bow did not stop him. He saw the gnome’s eyes widen in fear as he approached, and the pathetic creature struggled to knock another arrow. Guttugger seized his arm, shaking it like a rag doll. The gnome screamed like a female as he struggled to free himself, but Guttugger held on. In fact, he continued to maintain his hold, even as he saw his enemies close about him, weapons raised, and then he knew only darkness.
_______________________________________________
Rowyn wiped a tear from her eye, knowing Guttugger’s fate was sealed.
“I will avenge you, my friend,” she whispered as she uncorked her flask and drank its contents. Her body instantly began to turn to misty vapor, and she flowed through one of the small drain pipes in the corridor’s floor.
“The Lotus Dragon’s will live again,” her voice echoed on the wind as she vanished.
Anwar looked with interest over Lars’ shoulder as the rogue finished the map.
“So ye say the bulk o’the guards are waitin’ here, in th’holdin’ area, and here in th’trainin’ room?”
“Yes,” Lars nodded, eyeing the bard suspiciously and then looking to Thrisp for approval.
“And what about th’leaders?” Anwar asked. “Ye said that rat Vanthus was hold up som’eres with th’Dragon Lady, but what about this other feller, Reftun?”
“I thought ye said ye were Penkus,” Lars said skeptically. “How come ye don’t remember all this yerself?”
“Arrrr!” the bard snapped. “I told ye once already! Try feedin’ on yer own lads fer two weeks and then come back here and draw tha’ same map, ye lubber!”
Lars gulped, and pointed to another spot on the diagram. “Reftun’s here…in th’interrogation room. He’ll be havin’ one o’the boys with’im.”
“Describe’im t’me!” Anwar demanded, and the shaken rogue did so, though not with as much detail as the bard would have liked.
“Can ye tell us anythin’ else that might be helpin’ lad?”
Lars thought for a moment then shook his head. When he did, Anwar turned to the others. “Kill them,” he commanded.
Instantly Thrisp’s enchantment was broken, and the two thieves went for their rapiers. Sepoto was faster. One swipe of his chain cracked the ribs of Lars’ companion, sending him to the floor wheezing and coughing up blood before he went still. Lars himself was surrounded on all sides, but it was an arrow from Anwar’s own bow that took him in the throat and ended his lawless days.
“I say we find Kersh Reftun first,” Anwar said, shouldering his bow. “Perhaps with a little persuasion, or manipulation, we might be able to use him to our advantage.” The others agreed and, following the map, made their way around the area the Lotus Dragon members called the Crucible until they finally stood outside a secret door which Lars had indicated led to Reftun’s chambers.
After a nod from Thrisp that the door was safe, Samson touched the hidden stud which caused the portal to pop open. The purpose of the macabre room on the far side was obvious. A stretching rack dominated the northwest corner, and an open iron maiden stood in the southeast. To the southwest was a sizzling brazier of coals. A screaming man, dressed in rags, was tied to the rack, while a man matching Lars’ description of Kersh Reftun stood heating an iron in the brazier. He was dressed in a leather butcher’s apron, from which hung an assortment of flensing knives. As the door opened, he turned towards it, branding iron in hand, an odd smile on his face. The smile quickly faded, however, when a shaft from Gotr’s bow sprouted from his left shoulder. Sepoto and Samson swirled past the kneeling gnome and closed with the torturer as he moved towards a far door.
“Going somewhere?” the goliath asked as he coiled his chain around the man’s ankle and yanked it from under him. He tried to rise, but a swift clout from Samson’s morningstar put him down for good.
“So much for negotiating,” Anwar sighed as he entered the room and surveyed the scene. Then his eyes went to the prisoner, still tied to the rack.
“What’s yer story?” he asked as he strolled casually over.
“M…my name’s Sharp…L…Lufton Sharp,” the man stammered. “I’m a silk merchant. The Dragon’s kidnapped me when I wouldn’t pay them protection money. Can you cut me loose?”
Anwar eyed the man in silence. Something about his tone and mannerisms struck the bard as false.
“Sure,” he said after a moment, drawing a dagger from his belt. “I’ll set ye free. Just hold still.” He leaned forward, as if to cut the bonds holding Sharp’s wrists, but at the last moment, he brought the blade down towards the man’s throat.
“Anwar!” Thrisp shouted in alarm, but then he saw that the prisoner move with amazing speed, rolling his body away from Anwar, and easily slipping free of the ropes at the same time.
“Stop him!” Anwar cried as Sharp leaped from the table, and dove towards the brazier. As he did so, his clothing shimmered, replaced by a chain shirt. A Lotus Dragon tattoo was plainly visible on one shoulder.
“C’mon then, ye dogs!” he jeered as he seized one of the hot irons. As he raised it, however, Samson swung his cudgel, crushing the his collar bone. He doubled over in pain, but met Sepoto’s chain on the way down, his forehead opening to the bone. He tumbled to the floor, his life’s blood spilling across the stones.
“Kersh Reftun, I presume,” Anwar said dryly as he stood over the body. “Well, he might still be of some use after all.” The bard stripped the mail from the torturer’s corpse, donning it himself. Concentrating, he willed the glamer of the armor to appear as a leather apron. Then he quickly went to work completing his disguise, until it seemed as if the Lotus Dragon lieutenant lived again. Afterwards, a quick search of Reftun’s bed chamber uncovered a haphazardly stacked pile of gear, including a suit of chainmail and a spiked shield.
“Lars said the cell block was beyond here,” Thrisp observed. “Perhaps the Lotus Dragons really do have an unwilling guest in their keeping.”
_____________________________________________-
Xerxes heard the door of the torture chamber open, and the familiar bootsteps of his tormentor approaching. Involuntarily, the dwarf drew back from the bars of his cell, conditioned by hours on unending torment to fear that tread. Then Kersh Reftun’s sneering face was peering in at him again, and Xerxes felt his bladder loosen of its own accord.
“I have that effect on people sometimes,” the torturer said. “Who are you?”
Xerxes was perplexed. Was he to suffer mental torture now as well as physical? Gathering up what little dignity he still had, he drew himself to his full height.
“Ye know who I am, ye devil. If yer gonna kill me, then have done with it.”
“Kill you?” Reftun laughed. “I don’t know you well enough to kill you…yet. You understandably have me confused with someone else, but let’s let that pass for the moment. I did in fact kill the last prisoner I met, but he forced my hand by lying to me. I’ll ask once more…who are you?”
So it was to be mind games then, Xerxes sighed to himself. Very well. He would answer, for if he didn’t, he knew that he would endure even more suffering until he was forced to.
“Me name’s Xerxes. I was hired by Zelkarune’s Horns as a bodyguard for Keltar Islaran…a job I failed at when yer mates killed’im in his sleep. Now here I sit until yer done with yer fun, and then I’ll join me forefather’s in Moradin’s hall.”
The torturer eyed him for another moment, then turned and walked away. A short time later he returned, this time accompanied by a motley crew that the dwarf had not seen before. There were two gnomes, a goliath, if he wasn’t mistaken, and three humans, one with glowing red eyes. Reftun unlocked the cell door, and the goliath tossed all of the dwarf’s gear at his feet. Xerxes stared at them suspiciously, suspecting some new trick.
“It’s all right,” one of the gnomes said. “My name’s Thrisp. My companions and I are here to dismantle the Lotus Dragons. We killed your tormentor already. Show him Sepoto.” The goliath reached into a dripping sack and pulled out Kersh Reftun’s head. Xerxes looked in confusion from the gory trophy to the man who had just opened his cell and back again.
“He’s with us,” Thrisp said. “His name is Anwar, and he is a master of disguise. He hopes to use Reftun’s face to aid us in further penetrating the guild. You’re free to go as you like, though I offer no guarantees for your safety on your own. You are also free to accompany us, if you’d prefer to extract your own pound of flesh from your captors.”
“But know this,” the one called Anwar said. “We’re not here to wet-nurse or baby-sit you. You pull your weight, and you fight when we tell you, or so help me these will be the last tunnels you’ll ever see, dwarf.”
Xerxes pondered for a moment, then reached for his gear, lifting a brutally spiked shield.
“Just tell me who to kill,” he smiled.
__________________________________________
Still following Lars’ map, the company continued on towards what the rogue had marked as the Training Hall. He had warned them that a large group of guards waited there, but they knew that beyond this area was where Lars’ knowledge of the guild layout ended, and thus, they surmised, it was likely that was where they would find Vanthus and the Lady Dragon.
Anwar didn’t even bother with subterfuge when Samson flung open the door to the hall. The rank-and-file members of the Dragons were not his concern. They were merely an obstacle between his men and their target. The floor of the large room was covered with thick, padded mats. Throughout the chamber stood all manner of target dummies made of clothes and armor stuffed with straw, some of which wore bell-studded coats with numerous pockets, and others of which were draped with manacles and chains hung with cheap-looking padlocks. In the western section, a wooden stage sat a foot off the floor, and a padded throne flanked by potted plants sat upon it. Six of the Lotus Dragons stood poised around the perimeter of the hall, hand-crossbows cocked and loaded. Samson didn’t hesitate after he had the door open, letting his momentum carry him towards the nearest rogue before he could fire. The dragon shaman slammed his spiked morningstar into the ruffian’s midsection, doubling him over as the air was driven from his lungs. Stunned, the thug tried to stumble back and put some space between himself and his attacker, but Samson moved with him, cracking his temple with a second blow. This one, the Lotus Dragon didn’t get up from.
Xerxes was next in, a feral snarl on his lips. Ducking behind his shield, he charged across the room towards a second thief. The rogue tried to bring his weapon to bear, but the burly dwarf was faster than he looked, driving the man back against the far wall. One-by-one, Xerxes’ new allies filed into the room. The human named Marius was already chanting a spell, and when he finished it, he chucked what looked to be a ball of pure fire at a third enemy, setting him alight, and distracting him completely from the battle. Unfortunately, the display served to distract the dwarf as well, a mistake he paid for a moment later when one of the rogues finally got off a shot, his dart striking the mercenary in his unguarded right hand. Xerxes felt the tell-tale burn of poison on the bolt, but his hearty dwarven constitution protected him from its full effect.
The flaming thief danced about madly, slapping at his smoldering clothes, but a combined magical barrage of acid and a missile of light from Marius and Basil ended his futile efforts for good. Meanwhile, a few arcane words from Thrisp, followed by a flash of light, caused another of the ruffians to drop his weapon and rub dazedly at his eyes. Samson was on him immediately, hammering into the man’s leg. Simultaneously, Gotr scored a lucky hit with his bow on the same leg. Growling in pain and anger, the Lotus Dragon shook off the effects of the gnome’s spell, and drew his rapier. He rushed towards the dragon shaman, but as he passed Xerxes, the dwarf struck at the already injured leg with his shield. Staggering, the thief charged on. Suddenly, from Samson’s flank, another rogue attacked, his rapier piercing deep into the dragon shaman’s ribs. Samson felt himself gasping for air. At that moment, the wounded thief struck, falling forward and driving his own foil into Samson’s gut, collapsing to the ground in a pool of his own blood as he did so.
Sepoto saw Samson wavering, and moved quickly towards his friend. In his haste, however, he failed to notice one of the rogues dart from behind a training dummy, stabbing his blade beneath the goliath’s right armpit. Sepoto hissed in pain, turning reflexively and slamming his chain into the ruffian’s face, fracturing his skull in numerous places. As the rogue died, the crusader ripped a portion of his ebbing life-force from him, using the healing stance he had learned from the priest’s of Savras, and transferred it to Samson, closing some of the dragon shaman’s wounds.
Samson, feeling some of his strength returning, turned to parry the attack of another rogue rushing towards him. Spinning his morningstar inside the man’s defenses, he jammed its spiked head into the thief’s throat. Then, continuing the same motion, he connected solidly with the skull of the rogue who had punctured his lungs. Both men fell and did not rise. The room was momentarily silent. In less than a minute, the little band had dispatched all six of the guards.
“Here boy, lemme have a look at that,” Gotr said, stowing his bow and examining Samson’s wound. “I’m not sure if this’ll work, but I’ll give it a try.” The priest held out his symbol of office, and spoke the words to what sounded like a prayer, though not a very sincere one. Yet, to Samson’s immense relief, it appeared to be successful, and his remaining injuries healed completely.
“Hmmph…” Gotr muttered. “Probably just beginner’s luck.”
_________________________________________________
The party was now in unfamiliar territory. Beyond the Training Hall, the map ended. A door in the east wall of the room led to what appeared to be a storage room, with several target dummies heaped on a table, and a single chair pushed into one corner. Another door on the other side led to a short, L-shaped corridor. Sepoto took the lead, with Xerxes following. The others came behind in single-file. The hall abruptly ended with a choice of two doors, one to the east and one south. Sepoto chose the eastern door to keep them headed in that general direction. He was stunned when he did so, for looming right on the other side was a hissing rhagodessa! For a moment the goliath’s mind flashed back to Ferox, killed in a matter of seconds by another of these beasts, and now here he was, with no room to maneuver in the cramped corridor, toe-to-toe with one.
Thinking fast, the crusader lowered his shoulder and slammed into the monster, attempting to push it back into the room it occupied so that he could gain some breathing room and his companions could assist him. The rhagodessa proved stronger. It’s six legs gripped the floor like vises and it didn’t budge an inch.
“Keep at’im!” Xerxes shouted from behind, and then the dwarf did something that truly impressed the goliath. Wedging his body between Sepoto and the door jamb, he chopped at the head of the rhagodessa, which was all he could see. The sharpened edge of his shield opened a nasty gash in the creature’s carapace, and green blood gushed out. This gave Sepoto an idea. Quickly, he opened the southern door, revealing a small privy. He stepped into it, freeing up the doorway, and Xerxes immediately slipped into the breach. The rhagodessa reared, and the dwarf drove the spike on his shield into its relatively soft underbelly. Screeching, the monster seized the mercenary with its forepalps, drawing him towards its slavering maw. Again Ferox’ death appeared in Sepoto’s mind.
“No!” he howled, and then he lashed out, hurling the barbed end of his chain through one of the beast’s multi-faceted eyes. It jittered and shook as it dropped Xerxes and flipped onto its back, all of its legs curling towards its abdomen.
“Strong work, gentlemen,” Anwar said as he strode casually into the room.
“You might just work out yet,” he said to Xerxes, patting the dwarf on the head. Xerxes scowled at the bard, but knew better than to reply. The room the rhagodessa had occupied seemed empty, save for the sturdy chain locked to a collar around the beast’s thorax. The other end of the chain disappeared through a small hole in the northeast wall. Yet another closed door stood to the east.
The next chamber appeared to be some sort of war room. A large, hexagonal table made of oak took up the majority, surrounded by six chairs. The north wall bore a huge map of Tashluta, on which dozens of tiny flags had been placed. To the south, a five-foot tall and ten-foot wide slate bore a tangled mess of chalk scribblings. A winch handle protruded from the northwest corner. Anwar strolled over to the board. The writing seemed to consist mostly of the comings and goings of ships in the harbor, as well as notations on which ones had been, or where scheduled to be, holed. The bard smiled, however, as he read a small note in the upper right corner. It was a list of all their names (save Xerxes) inside a box. Alongside the list, in large letters was written, “VANTHUS! FIX THIS!”
“It would appear we’ve made an impression,” he said over his shoulder. Then his eyes fell on another note in a lower corner of the board, but this one was written in a language he did not understand. He called Basil and Marius over.
“It’s Aquan,” both of them said simultaneously. “The language of water-dwellers,” Basil continued. “It says something about paying the ixitxs by month’s end. It must be referring to a race of manta-like creatures, who’s name I can’t even begin to pronounce. They are known for being violent and evil. The Dragons must be using them to damage the ships in the harbor.”
“Anwar, have a look at this,” Thrisp interrupted from across the room, where he stood examining the wall map. The flags on the map were in three colors, red, blue and gold. A gold one protruded from the Vanderboren estate, while a red one was stuck in the Islaran estate and a blue on in the Kellani estate. Several of the Watch garrisons, including Sunrise and Shadowshore bore blue and gold flags, but the Champion’s District Watch had one of red, as did Cudgel District’s. The Thayan embassy also had one blue and one gold, as did the Chultan Trading Concern. Other blue flags marked the Dracktus estate, the Taxidermist Guild, and the Whaler’s Guild (this latter also bore gold). Other red flags included the Church of the Whirling Fury, the Temple of Anachtyr, the Lidu estate, and the Dawnhouse of Lathander.
“It would appear obvious that the blue flags mark allies of the Lotus Dragons,” Anwar observed, “while the red mark their enemies. I’m puzzled at the meaning of the gold one, however, especially the one on the Vanderboren estate.”
Thrisp nodded in agreement, all the while jotting down notes in a small book he carried. As he did so, he whispered under his breath in Undercommon, “This might be quite a lucrative opportunity for us.” Anwar glanced sharply at him, and then smiled.
“You’re finally learning,” he replied in the same tongue and tone.
When it became obvious that there was no further information to be had in the room, the group moved on. Another eastern door led to another hall, this one longer and straighter than the previous one. This time Xerxes took the lead. The corridor ended at a closed door, and after a nod from Sepoto, the dwarf opened it. An empty room greeted him, but it was not unoccupied. Standing just on the other side of the door, as if it had been waiting for him, was a grisly sight. To all appearances it was a bugbear, a hulking cousin to the goblins, but it was either horribly wounded, or terribly disfigured. Great swaths of its fur were missing, and in places muscle showed beneath rents in its flesh, and in other places, bone could be seen below that. Its lower jaw was missing, as was one eye. It clutched a large morningstar in one skeletal hand.
Sepoto quickly pulled the dwarf towards him, at the same time lashing out with his chain. Though the weapon scored the creature’s flesh deeply, there was no blood, and the monster apparently did not feel pain.
“Gotr!” the goliath shouted. “I don’t think this beast is alive! I think it’s another walking corpse!”
“Do you, now?” the gnome replied from further back. “And does your expertise on these matters tell you this? Being a janitor for a bunch of priests doesn’t make you one, boy! Why don’t you leave these matters to your betters?” Still, the little cleric pulled out his holy symbol, and held it before him. “By Oghma, I command you back to your tomb, restless spirit!” In answer, the mutilated bugbear slugged Xerxes with its cudgel, sending the dwarf stumbling back several feet, blood running down his face.
“See?” Gotr said smugly. “Just like I said. That thing’s no zombie. You wouldn’t know a zombie if it came up and ate your brains!”
Sepoto growled as he shoved Xerxes behind him, then stepped up to face the creature. They parried and traded blows for a moment, with the goliath taking more than he gave, until a swarm of blazing magic missiles streaked past, courtesy of Marius and Basil, burying themselves in the bugbear’s empty eye socket. It fell to the floor, sparks still fizzling in its skull.
“Zombie! Hah!” Gotr sneered, kicking at the dead thing as he and the others crossed the empty chamber to the far door.
________________________________________________
The opulence of the room in which they found themselves was a bit jarring after the austerity of the guild tunnels. The smooth plaster walls were painted violet, and delicately crafted silver lanterns flickered softly on the wall. A shelf to the north held several books, statuettes, stuffed animals, a crystal ball with a smoky red light at its core, and two coffers, one of darkwood and one of iron decorated with tiny jade bats. A five-foot wide landscape of Tashluta hung on the eastern wall, yet all the ships in the harbor flew flags depicting a serpentine dragon coiled around a lotus. A pair of overstuffed chairs sat beside a low table heaped with fruit and bottles of wine. To the south stood a lone wooden cupboard. The floor itself was adorned with a thick, deep purple carpet. An open door to the south led to what appeared to be a bedroom. As Sepoto opened the door, a lovely woman with long red hair tied back in a ponytail stretched languidly and rose with unsettling grace from one of the chairs. Her eyes sparkled like chips of green jade, and on one shoulder she wore a tattoo of a lotus, while on the other was an intricate dragon tattoo, its tail coiling down around her arm. She was dressed in gleaming black leathers and wore an ornate rapier on her hip. Standing beside her chair was a strange creature, which resembled a small dinosaur with a bright, yellow crest running from its head and down its back.
“So, you are Lavinia’s flunkies,” she said with a smile, though her voice was tinged with bitterness. “It’s obvious you are resourceful, as you’ve succeeded in dismantling what took me years to build. And here you are, ready to fight to the death, but for what? To serve the whims of some noble bitch? Allow me to make you a more lucrative offer. Join me. Help me to rebuild. I have plenty of money to do it, but with your help, the new Lotus Dragons could be stronger then ever.”
By this time, Anwar had entered the room, and the Lady Dragon stopped her speech. “Reftun?” she asked, puzzled. At that moment the creature at her side hissed something to her. Anwar understood the thing’s draconic tongue, and knew that it had pierced his disguise and told its mistress as much. The lady smiled as she looked up at the bard.
“Clever. You only prove my point. You are resourceful. Join your forces with mine and we will be unstoppable.”
“Perhaps, perhaps,” Anwar said, waving her offer aside. “But first to our reason for being here. Where is Vanthus Vanderboren? If we are to even consider your offer, the matter of this…person, will have to be resolved.”
“You concern yourself with trivialities,” she replied. “Vanthus is not here. I have sent him out of the city on a mission for me.”
Anwar sensed she was telling the truth and nodded. “Tell me this then,” he continued. “why should we accept your offer when we can just kill you now and take what’s yours?”
“You disappoint me,” she sighed. “How short-sighted of you. You think what you see here is valuable? This is but a fraction of what you could have when my ultimate plans are realized. When I control all of Tashluta’s shipping concerns, the rewards will be far more than you can imagine.”
“I can imagine quite a lot,” Anwar smiled. “Still, there is a question of loyalty. We can have it both ways…take what we see here, and still reap our reward from Lavinia. After all, she is my one true love.” He smiled, but his eyes were as cold as an adder’s. The Lady of the Lotus sketched a small bow.
“Well played, sir. I see that I have truly underestimated you, and I regret that we shall not have the opportunity to work together.” She drew her rapier casually, then spoke to her pet. “Guttugger, do your thing.”
The little reptile moved with surprising speed, darting to block the door behind Anwar, but Sepoto was only a fraction of a second slower. The goliath charged forward, shoving the beast all the way across the room. Samson, Xerxes and Gotr spilled into the room behind him, while Anwar slipped surreptitiously out. Guttugger, meanwhile, darted between Sepoto’s legs and lunged for Gotr. The gnome raised his bow defensively, but the little monster clamped its teeth down on his wrist. Then, as Xerxes moved to hedge it in, it turned, and snapped at the dwarf, leaving teeth marks in his thigh.
The Lady, meanwhile, maneuvered carefully about the perimeter of the room, trying to position herself behind Sepoto. The goliath moved like the wind, spinning his chain out and clipping her across her beautiful face, opening a large gash. She gasped, recoiling, and at the same time Xerxes struck with his shield, knocking the wind out of her.
“Leave her alive!” Anwar commanded. “Kill the lizard!”
In answer, Guttugger snarled and sank his teeth into Samson. He then whirled in a vicious circle, facing down all of his assailants who, for the moment, gave the little beast a wide berth. His mistress used the opportunity to dive between Xerxes and Sepoto, somersaulting to her feet behind Samson before darting into the open bedroom door. Samson quickly turned to follow, but by the time he reached her, she was standing at an open doorway, apparently a hidden portal that she had triggered. The dragon shaman rushed towards her, but she sidestepped easily, moving through the door, and closing it behind her. To Samson, the door seemed to disappear completely, leaving a blank wall in its place.
Guttugger saw his mistress leave, and knew he was on his own. He did not resent this, instead merely noting it as necessity. If the Lotus Dragons were to survive, Rowyn must live, and he would ensure her escape. He leaped towards the door where the gnome still stood. He suffered two scathing blows from the goliath and the dwarf as he moved, but he did not slow. Even a lucky shot from the cursed gnome’s bow did not stop him. He saw the gnome’s eyes widen in fear as he approached, and the pathetic creature struggled to knock another arrow. Guttugger seized his arm, shaking it like a rag doll. The gnome screamed like a female as he struggled to free himself, but Guttugger held on. In fact, he continued to maintain his hold, even as he saw his enemies close about him, weapons raised, and then he knew only darkness.
_______________________________________________
Rowyn wiped a tear from her eye, knowing Guttugger’s fate was sealed.
“I will avenge you, my friend,” she whispered as she uncorked her flask and drank its contents. Her body instantly began to turn to misty vapor, and she flowed through one of the small drain pipes in the corridor’s floor.
“The Lotus Dragon’s will live again,” her voice echoed on the wind as she vanished.
EvolutionKB
First Post
Very good update here guys...I've recognized daze, magic missle, lesser energy orbs, but what aura does Samson have up during battle, and does Sepoto use manuvers or just the healing stance? I really like how you guys are pulling off the anti-heroes here. I'd have to say I started off not liking Anwar, but he is definately growing on me.
