JollyDoc's Savage Tide-Updated 10/8!
Ika_Greybeard
First Post
Zaruthustran said:
Yes Sepoto can
![:]](http://www.enworld.org/forum/images/smilies/devious.png "Devious :]")
with 3 levels of cleric and the Ruby Knight Vindicator prestige(In our campaign it is called the Eye of Savras) Right now I can cast up to 3rd level Spells. If I live long enough one day I can hit 5th level spells 
Sorry took me so long to respond had problems getting on the forums.
Neverwinter Knight
First Post
Would you mind providing us with Sepoto's current build?Ika_Greybeard said:Yes Sepoto can
JollyDoc, have we not been giving you enough praise or why are you letting us suffer? Please tell us of the statues of dread and choker heaven...
Ika_Greybeard said:Yes Sepoto can
Any chance of you posting your character sheet mate?
Ika_Greybeard
First Post
Krud said:Any chance of you posting your character sheet mate?
At work now so would be working from memory and my memory is no good.I will try and get it up over the weekend.
Neverwinter Knight
First Post
Thanks !!!
Ika_Greybeard
First Post
As requested here is Sepoto
Sepoto (CR 12)Crusader of Savras
Male goliath Crusader 4,Cleric 3,Eye of Savras 4(Ruby Knight Vindicator)
LN Monstrous Humanoid
Init+2; Powerful Build, Mountain Movement
Languages Common,Gol Kaa
----------------------------------
AC 27, touch 14, flat-footed 25
(+2 Dex, +8 armor, +2deflection, +5 shield),
hp 114 (11 HD)
Fort +12, Ref +5, Will +13;
----------------------------------
Speed 40 ft. (8 squares)
Space 5 ft.; Reach 5 ft.
Base Atk +10; Grp +22
Attacks +14/+9 2d6 +8
Combat Gear +1 Holy Spiked Chain(large),Gargoyle Crown(use DR5 adamantine 1/day) Smite +4 1/day ,5 potions of cure light wounds, Wand of Benign Transposition 17 charges, +3 Celstial Armor cast Fly 1/day. +1 animated Tower Shield
Cleric Domains: Fate (Uncanny Dodge) Magic (Use low level Magic items)
Turning attempts: 5/day
Cleric Spells
3rd - D:True Strike(From 1st level Domain),Magic vestment(cast every Morning), Blindsight
2nd - D:True Strike(From first level Domain),Bears Endurance x2, Blade Brother(Cast on tower Cleaver and Myself when Cast)
1st - D:True Strike, Blade of BloodX4
Martial Stances, Thicket of Blades, Martial Spirit,Iron guards glare
Martial Maneuvers:
5th Shadow Stride(Shadow Hand) readied
4th Divine Surge(devoted Spirit)readied
3rd White Raven Tactics (white Raven) Readied
2nd Foehammer (Stone Dragon)readied
1st Douse The flames (white raven) Readied,Vangaurd Strike,
----------------------------------
Abilities Str 20, Dex 14, Con 18, Int 10, Wis 14, Cha 14
Flaw: Shaky -2 to Range for Extra Feat at 1st level
Feats Extra Granted Maneuver , Exotic weapon Prof. (Spiked Chain),Combat Reflexes,Power Attack, Standstill.
Skills Concentration +17, Diplomacy +13, Knowledge (religion) +14, Hide +6, Intimidate +13,
Ex: Steely Resolve(Delayed Damage pool Up to 10 points), Furious Counterstike(depending on DP Get Bonuses to attack and Damage) Indomitable Soul(charisma bonus on Will Saves),Zealous Surge(reroll on a saving throw 1/day)
Su: Divine recovery( Using turning Attempts as a swift action to Recover a expended maneuver)
Possessions combat gear plus Ring of Protection +2, Cloak of resistance +1, 2 Auran Mask, Boots of Striding and Springing + 2 Dex, Pearl of Speech (Maztican) 1 potion of Fly,Tooth of Ashan(Grapple as one size category higher which will be Huge for me)
Edit added tooth of Ashan and skills that I forgot to add when I leveled.
Sepoto (CR 12)Crusader of Savras
Male goliath Crusader 4,Cleric 3,Eye of Savras 4(Ruby Knight Vindicator)
LN Monstrous Humanoid
Init+2; Powerful Build, Mountain Movement
Languages Common,Gol Kaa
----------------------------------
AC 27, touch 14, flat-footed 25
(+2 Dex, +8 armor, +2deflection, +5 shield),
hp 114 (11 HD)
Fort +12, Ref +5, Will +13;
----------------------------------
Speed 40 ft. (8 squares)
Space 5 ft.; Reach 5 ft.
Base Atk +10; Grp +22
Attacks +14/+9 2d6 +8
Combat Gear +1 Holy Spiked Chain(large),Gargoyle Crown(use DR5 adamantine 1/day) Smite +4 1/day ,5 potions of cure light wounds, Wand of Benign Transposition 17 charges, +3 Celstial Armor cast Fly 1/day. +1 animated Tower Shield
Cleric Domains: Fate (Uncanny Dodge) Magic (Use low level Magic items)
Turning attempts: 5/day
Cleric Spells
3rd - D:True Strike(From 1st level Domain),Magic vestment(cast every Morning), Blindsight
2nd - D:True Strike(From first level Domain),Bears Endurance x2, Blade Brother(Cast on tower Cleaver and Myself when Cast)
1st - D:True Strike, Blade of BloodX4
Martial Stances, Thicket of Blades, Martial Spirit,Iron guards glare
Martial Maneuvers:
5th Shadow Stride(Shadow Hand) readied
4th Divine Surge(devoted Spirit)readied
3rd White Raven Tactics (white Raven) Readied
2nd Foehammer (Stone Dragon)readied
1st Douse The flames (white raven) Readied,Vangaurd Strike,
----------------------------------
Abilities Str 20, Dex 14, Con 18, Int 10, Wis 14, Cha 14
Flaw: Shaky -2 to Range for Extra Feat at 1st level
Feats Extra Granted Maneuver , Exotic weapon Prof. (Spiked Chain),Combat Reflexes,Power Attack, Standstill.
Skills Concentration +17, Diplomacy +13, Knowledge (religion) +14, Hide +6, Intimidate +13,
Ex: Steely Resolve(Delayed Damage pool Up to 10 points), Furious Counterstike(depending on DP Get Bonuses to attack and Damage) Indomitable Soul(charisma bonus on Will Saves),Zealous Surge(reroll on a saving throw 1/day)
Su: Divine recovery( Using turning Attempts as a swift action to Recover a expended maneuver)
Possessions combat gear plus Ring of Protection +2, Cloak of resistance +1, 2 Auran Mask, Boots of Striding and Springing + 2 Dex, Pearl of Speech (Maztican) 1 potion of Fly,Tooth of Ashan(Grapple as one size category higher which will be Huge for me)
Edit added tooth of Ashan and skills that I forgot to add when I leveled.
Last edited:
JollyDoc
Explorer
BLESSED OF THE OBAH
Once Mandi had completed her ‘salvage’ operation, the group left the Chamber of the Sun and continued deeper into the temple. East of the burial chamber, they came to a stout door in the south wall of a wide passage.
“It locked,” Cleaver grumbled when he tried the handle.
“Well?” Mandi said, staring at him with one eyebrow raised. “You do carry a key, don’t you?”
It took the slow-witted minotaur a moment before understanding dawned on him. He grinned, hefting his axe.
“Key!” he laughed. Mandi smiled condescendingly. The big warrior swung the weapon with all of his formidable strength, smashing the door to flinders in a matter of seconds. The room beyond was silent and dusty, the weight of ages resting upon it. Colorful murals showing rites of interment covered the walls. Two stone tubs lay near the eastern wall, with shelving between them holding all manner of jars, urns and amphorae. Stone tables against the west wall stood between cabinets and shelves that held wrappings, tools, and funerary items. One of the tables bore a brownish humanoid beneath a coating of dust. Sepoto pushed in front of Tower Cleaver, entering the room cautiously. The minotaur followed with Samson close behind. Marius, Daelric and Mandi stood outside, waiting for the all-clear from their companions.
The goliath had gone no more than a few paces when the figure on the table suddenly lifted itself into a sitting position and turned its gaunt face towards him with an audible popping sound. Sepoto clenched his weapon tight, his muscles tensing, but abruptly the corpse began to speak. The language was unfamiliar to the crusader, as it was to the rest of the Legionnaires…all save Mandi. The sorceress had magically imbued herself with the ability to comprehend foreign tongues earlier in the day, when the group had first stumbled upon the writings of the Shensites, inscribed in the strange dialect of Kara-Tur. She understood perfectly what the creature said.
“I greet you, strangers! It has been so very long since I last beheld another living soul. My heart swells with joy at your company! I am Vestrilar, of the Shensite Order. I was not always as you see me now. Ages past, I died, having come to the natural end of my span of days. Unfortunately, before I could be properly laid to rest with my brothers, the Tuigan barbarians attacked. When the obahs saw fit to curse the invaders, my body was swept up in its aftereffect. I found that my spirit was trapped, unable to leave this undead form. What’s more, I also found that I could not even leave this chamber! Centuries I have lain here, pondering my fate, but finally I hit upon three ways by which I might escape my cruel destiny. Again, unfortunately, I could implement none of these on my own. I knew I would need help, and now here you are! Shensi has indeed smiled upon me this day! Please say you will help me! If you have the means, I could be transported to the realm from whence all negative energy springs. The karma there will counteract the curse, and thus free me. If not, then perhaps if you could instead infuse me with negative energy through magic, the effect might be the same. Barring that, strong arcana, such as one that might break an enchantment could be employed upon me. Tell me, can you end my torment?”
By this time, Mandi had entered the room, and she listened to the monk’s tale in silence. When Vestrilar had finished, the elf mage turned to Sepoto.
“This creature says that he is undead,” she said. “Have you ever encountered such in your theological studies?”
“Not only there,” the goliath replied grimly, “but also on our trek to Farshore when we were shipwrecked. It’s a mummy. Three of them almost slew us all.”
“Then you know that these beings are evil incarnate,” the sorceress replied. “This one seeks to bargain with us to lift some curse it thinks it’s under. I strongly recommend we destroy it…now.”
Vestrilar had been watching the exchange quizzically. He didn’t understand what was being said, but their tones suggested they were disinclined to believe his tale, or weren’t interested in helping, or both. Very well, the mummy thought. If they would not aid him willingly, he would force them to. But first he had to make himself understood. The elemental creature that had been listening closely to him seemed a crafty one, but the minotaur and the goliath might just be stupid enough for him to sway. After all, his so-called brothers had fallen for his lies, just as his lord Balim had said they would. Chanting a spell, he imparted the ability to speak and understand all tongues on himself.
“Will you help me?” he asked again, this time in the Common language.
To Mandi’s surprise and consternation, Tower Cleaver stepped forward.
“Why all things here have many arms?” the minotaur asked, a truly puzzled look on his face. Mandi saw the sly smile briefly cross the mummy’s own countenance, and she knew that she would have to end things quickly before the living corpse could begin gulling the stupid cow. She began to cast.
Vestrilar recognized the spell the mephit was beginning, and his eyes widened in shock.
“No! You don’t understand…” he began, but at that moment Daelric, sensing Mandi’s plan, enveloped the mummy in a magical blanket of silence. A moment later a thin, green beam of energy sprung from Mandi’s hand, and when it struck the mummy it instantly reduced him to a pile of dust and ash.
“Why you do that?” Cleaver snorted, whirling on Mandi with rage in his bovine eyes. “Tower Cleaver want to know, and little, brown man was going to tell him secret!”
“Calm yourself,” Mandi said coldly. “He wasn’t going to tell you anything except lies to lull you into falling into his trap. Believe me, I just saved your life…again.”
The minotaur continued to snort and seethe, but Mandi could tell that her words were churning through his thick head, and his confusion would eventually lead to his anger subsiding. She looked around at the others, seeing support in the faces of Marius and Daelric, carefully composed neutrality in Samson and, surprisingly, distrust in Sepoto. She had wondered when this moment would come. The goliath had been the leader of the pitiful band when she and Daelric had first found them. Over time, she had subtly begun to assume that role, careful not to raise the ire of the crusader at the same time she was manipulating him. It appeared that the time for subtlety had passed. She was sure that a reckoning would be coming soon.
_____________________________________________________________
Continuing beyond the Chamber of the Sun, the company mounted a short flight of stairs to a landing and another door. This one was unlocked, and did not require Tower Cleaver’s unique skills. The sound of roaring water filled the chamber beyond, and a fine spray of mist hung in the air. The entire west wall was actually the side of the mountain, with the room’s walls built off of it. Down this rugged slope fell a turbulent waterfall that emptied into a rock-lined pool at the base. Lichens and moss grew upon the craggy face. At the very top, fifty feet above, was the glint of metal. A bronze, tiered dome rose to an open apex ninety feet above the pool.
“Interesting,” Mandi said, gazing around. “This certainly looks like a room that might pay homage to some heathen god or another. Cleaver, take Samson and head up that cliff. Bring back whatever that is at the top.”
The minotaur looked up the steep cliff face dubiously. “Tower Cleaver not climb,” he said.
“You probably don’t fly either,” Mandi sneered, “but just the same…” She reached out and touched the big warrior, uttering a short spell as she did so. The bull’s eyes grew comically wide as his feet lifted off the ground. Samson quickly scrambled up Cleaver’s shoulders, settling himself comfortably in place.
“Giddy up, big guy!” the dragon shaman laughed, and then the minotaur soared into the air.
When they reached the summit of the fall, they saw that the shining item behind it was a brass reliquary, gleaming and unoxidized.
“Give me a boost,” Samson instructed, and Cleaver hoisted him by the back of his jerkin and extended him towards the container. Just as the goblin was about to grab it, an inhuman shriek pierced the air. From the other side of the waterfall, where it had apparently been crouched unseen among the rocks, stepped a large creature which resembled a great, winged monkey. It had a long prehensile tale, in which it clutched a wicked-looking mace, and a tusked, undershot jaw, yet the gleam of intelligence was clear in its sky blue eyes. It raised one paw and passed it casually before its face. Tower Cleaver watched it hypnotically. A moment later, the minotaur began jabbering away nonsensically in a language Samson was unfamiliar with. The dragon shaman, still in Cleaver’s grip, craned his neck around and saw total blankness in the warrior’s cow eyes.
“Uh-oh,” he murmured. “Not good. Uh…guys! Help!” Quickly, the little goblin began scrabbling in his belt pouch as his feet dangled over the abyss. He seized a small flask, pulled the cork with his teeth, and quaffed it down. Then, twisting free of Cleaver’s grip, he flew through the air and snatched the reliquary. The odd creature howled again, and lunged for him, but as it moved, its body suddenly shimmered and flowed, taking the shape of a small, barking dog.
“You’re welcome,” Mandi said, hovering near the falls some thirty feet below.
Samson nodded, grudgingly, but at that moment, several things happened. Tower Cleaver ceased his babbling, roared in blind panic as his eyes fixed on the little terrier, dove towards the floor, batted Sepoto aside as if he were a rag doll, and vanished through the door and down the hall. At the same time, the dog began nipping and snapping at Samson’s feet.
“No!” the goblin shouted. “Bad dog!” He swung his morningstar and clipped the pooch on the snout. It yelped, and leaped back, but as it did, it lost its footing on the slippery rocks and plunged fifty feet to the floor below, where it lay unmoving.
“Should I go after him?” Sepoto shouted up to Mandi, nodding in the direction Cleaver had fled.
“No,” the sorceress replied, “The spell is short-lived. He’s a minotaur. They live in mazes. He’ll find his way back. In the mean time, I want to see what that big monkey was guarding.”
_______________________________________________________________
Mandi was right about Tower Cleaver. The minotaur returned several minutes later, hang-dog and shame-faced. None of the others paid much attention to him, except for Samson, who gave him a consoling pat on the back. The rest of the little company was more interested in the parchment scroll Mandi had retrieved from the reliquary. Upon it was scribed a single powerful spell…one which would grant the reader a Miracle…
Six minds pondered in silence as they continued on their way. Each of the Legionnaires could easily come up with a dozen ways to put the scroll to use, and each coveted it and harbored suspicions as to the motives of their colleagues. Yet no one spoke of it. Before long they came to a single, relatively narrow hallway which wound due east. After a short distance, it opened into a small chamber. Once-colorful tapestries lay in moldering shreds on the floor, and mixed in with the tatters were patches of midnight black fur and piles of offal. A wild animal smell filled the room. It was apparent that the displacer beasts had claimed at least part of the area as their domain.
The corridor continued, doubling back on itself before emptying into a second small chamber. There a four-foot stone plinth rested in an alcove. Upon it sat a diorama of small gold and marble figures representing a jungle village with several human and animal occupants. Strange writing covered the walls of the alcove, and a fine mist fell from somewhere in the darkness above. Mandi translated the inscriptions, which amounted to little more than weighty philosophical matters related to the Shensites. Still the hall continued. They next came to a room which contained another alcove, this one holding a statue of a beautiful but dangerous-looking female elf with long, curving blades instead of hands. She seemed to be spinning in a cyclone of dust and water. The steady pitter-patter of rain created tiny rills flowing down its surface.
“Wynnarth the Dervish, whose dance brings breath and whose breath brings death,” Mandi translated. “It seems we’ve found another obah.”
“Strange,” Sepoto said, bending closer to examine the carving. “I recognize her. This is a representation of Gwynharwf, the Whirling Fury. Perhaps the Shensites worshipped other obahs that are merely different aspects of the gods we know. Jeran Emrikad should be very interested in that fact.”
Beyond that room, the corridor reached an intersection. To the southwest, a stair descended into the dripping darkness, while to the east a statue of a six-armed man wearing exotic armor loomed in another alcove.
“Hmm…” Sepoto said as he approached the statue. “There don’t seem to be any engravings on this one.”
Suddenly, the statues arms began to move, and one of them swung, log-like and connected solidly with the side of the goliath’s skull with an audible crack.
“It’s a golem!” Mandi shouted from her position near the rear of the group. Samson was already in motion, ducking between Tower Cleaver’s legs. Before he could get close enough to the golem, however, he too was caught by a hammering blow. As he sagged backwards, he stretched his jaws, spewing acid at the living statue.
“No, you fool!” Mandi screamed. “Acid heals these constructs!”
“Fine time to tell me!” Samson snapped back, but when he turned his head, the golem struck again. This time, the dragon shaman felt ribs snap and the bitter taste of blood in his mouth.
“Cleaver, get in there!” Mandi ordered as she began weaving her magic. She knew that constructs such as these were immune to most spells, but not the one she had in mind. Conjuring an orb of pure force, she hurled it at the statue. When it detonated, several pieces of terra cotta were blown from its body. At the same time, Tower Cleaver stepped into the breach, hammering his axe down upon the thing. Though the blade gouged a deep cleft in the automaton’s shoulder, it was not as telling as the minotaur had hoped. It was apparently resistant to physical force as well.
Samson was in dire straits. Instinctively, he called upon his draconic blood to heal his wounds, yet to his horror, the injuries would not close. His recuperative powers were not working!
“Daelric!” he called in desperation, struggling to scramble behind the wall of minotaur. He was not fast enough, however. The golem clipped him again, sending him careening into the far wall, where he lay, dazed. Sepoto quickly interposed himself between the golem and his friend, swinging his chain wildly. He paid for his heroism dearly. The construct swung two, huge fists, one of them glancing off the goliath’s shoulder, but the second one buried itself in his gut. Sepoto felt something inside give way and he vomited a great gout of blood and bile.
“Cleaver…” he wheezed, barely able to keep his feet. The big minotaur stared in shock at his companions, and then a red haze descended across his field of vision. When he roared, his howl shook the stone around them, and when he charged, he was like a living battering ram. His axe blade dropped like a felled-tree, and when it struck, the golem shattered into a thousand pieces.
Daelric quickly moved to tend to his friends, but when he tried to bring his curative prayers to bear, he made the same discovery as Samson. The wounds were cursed. They would not respond to his magic. Desperately he prayed to Shaundekal, begging his god to give him strength. Samson and Sepoto were exsanguinating in front of him. Several tense moments passed, but gradually their bleeding slowed and their respirations eased. It took several more minutes, and most of the priest’s power to mend the injuries completely. When he was done, he sat back, exhausted.
“We have to rest,” Mandi announced, assessing the sorry shape her group was in.
“But what if the storm ends in the meantime?” Marius asked. “What if we’re trapped here?”
“What if we’re all dead and it doesn’t matter?” the sorceress shot back. “Our resources are expended, and our physical strength depleted. If we don’t regroup and recuperate, we’ll never make it out of here.”
The others agreed, and Daelric used one of his few remaining prayers to create an extra-dimensional pocket to which the companions retreated. Outside, the storm raged on.
__________________________________________________________
The corridor branched again past the intersection. The path they took led to a short stair, which descended to a dead-end. The constant drizzle had flooded the lower section to a depth of a couple of inches. Standing at the end of the corridor was a statue in blue stone that depicted a tall woman dressed in revealing robes. Her carven face had an ageless beauty, yet the eyes glinted with a faint hint of cruelty. A shimmering line of script was carved into the stone above.
“Shamarae the Lover,” Mandi read, “promising bliss and delivering loss.”
“It’s Shami-Amourae,” Sepoto said quietly. “She was once the queen of succubi, but she is now exiled to an unknown part of the Abyss by her successor, Malcanthet. I do not know how I know this. I have never heard her name before in my studies. I just do.” Absently, he stroked the black fang which protruded from his mouth.
At that moment, a cacophony of shrieks and chitters broke out all around and above the group. Descending along the walls from the darkness above was a veritable swarm of the six-armed chokers Mandi, Samson and Marius had encountered earlier. There were at least a dozen in all, clinging to the mortar like obscene spiders. In a flurry of movement, they began lashing out with their long, rubbery appendages. Tower Cleaver was clipped in the side of the head several times, while Mandi, once more in her mephit aspect, was ripped out of the air by one of the little beasts, and reeled into a deadly lover’s embrace. The sorceress spoke a word of command, and the amulet around her neck flashed, granting her the power to invoke her magic though her arms were securely pinned at her side. Three scorching blasts of fire flew from her eyes, roasting the foul creature that held her. She was free an instant later.
The corridor was mass confusion. The chokers swarmed like monkeys, but the Legionnaires were seasoned veterans. Sepoto lay about him with his chain, while Samson breathed liquid death. Yet it was Tower Cleaver who was truly awesome to behold. Like a titan wading into battle, his great axe swung in a deadly arc, slicing chokers in two with each blow. One after the other, the creatures fell before his fury. In the end, even his companions ceased fighting just to watch him. He was in his element, and though blood and gore covered him, he laughed as if it were a spring shower on a sunny day.
Once Mandi had completed her ‘salvage’ operation, the group left the Chamber of the Sun and continued deeper into the temple. East of the burial chamber, they came to a stout door in the south wall of a wide passage.
“It locked,” Cleaver grumbled when he tried the handle.
“Well?” Mandi said, staring at him with one eyebrow raised. “You do carry a key, don’t you?”
It took the slow-witted minotaur a moment before understanding dawned on him. He grinned, hefting his axe.
“Key!” he laughed. Mandi smiled condescendingly. The big warrior swung the weapon with all of his formidable strength, smashing the door to flinders in a matter of seconds. The room beyond was silent and dusty, the weight of ages resting upon it. Colorful murals showing rites of interment covered the walls. Two stone tubs lay near the eastern wall, with shelving between them holding all manner of jars, urns and amphorae. Stone tables against the west wall stood between cabinets and shelves that held wrappings, tools, and funerary items. One of the tables bore a brownish humanoid beneath a coating of dust. Sepoto pushed in front of Tower Cleaver, entering the room cautiously. The minotaur followed with Samson close behind. Marius, Daelric and Mandi stood outside, waiting for the all-clear from their companions.
The goliath had gone no more than a few paces when the figure on the table suddenly lifted itself into a sitting position and turned its gaunt face towards him with an audible popping sound. Sepoto clenched his weapon tight, his muscles tensing, but abruptly the corpse began to speak. The language was unfamiliar to the crusader, as it was to the rest of the Legionnaires…all save Mandi. The sorceress had magically imbued herself with the ability to comprehend foreign tongues earlier in the day, when the group had first stumbled upon the writings of the Shensites, inscribed in the strange dialect of Kara-Tur. She understood perfectly what the creature said.
“I greet you, strangers! It has been so very long since I last beheld another living soul. My heart swells with joy at your company! I am Vestrilar, of the Shensite Order. I was not always as you see me now. Ages past, I died, having come to the natural end of my span of days. Unfortunately, before I could be properly laid to rest with my brothers, the Tuigan barbarians attacked. When the obahs saw fit to curse the invaders, my body was swept up in its aftereffect. I found that my spirit was trapped, unable to leave this undead form. What’s more, I also found that I could not even leave this chamber! Centuries I have lain here, pondering my fate, but finally I hit upon three ways by which I might escape my cruel destiny. Again, unfortunately, I could implement none of these on my own. I knew I would need help, and now here you are! Shensi has indeed smiled upon me this day! Please say you will help me! If you have the means, I could be transported to the realm from whence all negative energy springs. The karma there will counteract the curse, and thus free me. If not, then perhaps if you could instead infuse me with negative energy through magic, the effect might be the same. Barring that, strong arcana, such as one that might break an enchantment could be employed upon me. Tell me, can you end my torment?”
By this time, Mandi had entered the room, and she listened to the monk’s tale in silence. When Vestrilar had finished, the elf mage turned to Sepoto.
“This creature says that he is undead,” she said. “Have you ever encountered such in your theological studies?”
“Not only there,” the goliath replied grimly, “but also on our trek to Farshore when we were shipwrecked. It’s a mummy. Three of them almost slew us all.”
“Then you know that these beings are evil incarnate,” the sorceress replied. “This one seeks to bargain with us to lift some curse it thinks it’s under. I strongly recommend we destroy it…now.”
Vestrilar had been watching the exchange quizzically. He didn’t understand what was being said, but their tones suggested they were disinclined to believe his tale, or weren’t interested in helping, or both. Very well, the mummy thought. If they would not aid him willingly, he would force them to. But first he had to make himself understood. The elemental creature that had been listening closely to him seemed a crafty one, but the minotaur and the goliath might just be stupid enough for him to sway. After all, his so-called brothers had fallen for his lies, just as his lord Balim had said they would. Chanting a spell, he imparted the ability to speak and understand all tongues on himself.
“Will you help me?” he asked again, this time in the Common language.
To Mandi’s surprise and consternation, Tower Cleaver stepped forward.
“Why all things here have many arms?” the minotaur asked, a truly puzzled look on his face. Mandi saw the sly smile briefly cross the mummy’s own countenance, and she knew that she would have to end things quickly before the living corpse could begin gulling the stupid cow. She began to cast.
Vestrilar recognized the spell the mephit was beginning, and his eyes widened in shock.
“No! You don’t understand…” he began, but at that moment Daelric, sensing Mandi’s plan, enveloped the mummy in a magical blanket of silence. A moment later a thin, green beam of energy sprung from Mandi’s hand, and when it struck the mummy it instantly reduced him to a pile of dust and ash.
“Why you do that?” Cleaver snorted, whirling on Mandi with rage in his bovine eyes. “Tower Cleaver want to know, and little, brown man was going to tell him secret!”
“Calm yourself,” Mandi said coldly. “He wasn’t going to tell you anything except lies to lull you into falling into his trap. Believe me, I just saved your life…again.”
The minotaur continued to snort and seethe, but Mandi could tell that her words were churning through his thick head, and his confusion would eventually lead to his anger subsiding. She looked around at the others, seeing support in the faces of Marius and Daelric, carefully composed neutrality in Samson and, surprisingly, distrust in Sepoto. She had wondered when this moment would come. The goliath had been the leader of the pitiful band when she and Daelric had first found them. Over time, she had subtly begun to assume that role, careful not to raise the ire of the crusader at the same time she was manipulating him. It appeared that the time for subtlety had passed. She was sure that a reckoning would be coming soon.
_____________________________________________________________
Continuing beyond the Chamber of the Sun, the company mounted a short flight of stairs to a landing and another door. This one was unlocked, and did not require Tower Cleaver’s unique skills. The sound of roaring water filled the chamber beyond, and a fine spray of mist hung in the air. The entire west wall was actually the side of the mountain, with the room’s walls built off of it. Down this rugged slope fell a turbulent waterfall that emptied into a rock-lined pool at the base. Lichens and moss grew upon the craggy face. At the very top, fifty feet above, was the glint of metal. A bronze, tiered dome rose to an open apex ninety feet above the pool.
“Interesting,” Mandi said, gazing around. “This certainly looks like a room that might pay homage to some heathen god or another. Cleaver, take Samson and head up that cliff. Bring back whatever that is at the top.”
The minotaur looked up the steep cliff face dubiously. “Tower Cleaver not climb,” he said.
“You probably don’t fly either,” Mandi sneered, “but just the same…” She reached out and touched the big warrior, uttering a short spell as she did so. The bull’s eyes grew comically wide as his feet lifted off the ground. Samson quickly scrambled up Cleaver’s shoulders, settling himself comfortably in place.
“Giddy up, big guy!” the dragon shaman laughed, and then the minotaur soared into the air.
When they reached the summit of the fall, they saw that the shining item behind it was a brass reliquary, gleaming and unoxidized.
“Give me a boost,” Samson instructed, and Cleaver hoisted him by the back of his jerkin and extended him towards the container. Just as the goblin was about to grab it, an inhuman shriek pierced the air. From the other side of the waterfall, where it had apparently been crouched unseen among the rocks, stepped a large creature which resembled a great, winged monkey. It had a long prehensile tale, in which it clutched a wicked-looking mace, and a tusked, undershot jaw, yet the gleam of intelligence was clear in its sky blue eyes. It raised one paw and passed it casually before its face. Tower Cleaver watched it hypnotically. A moment later, the minotaur began jabbering away nonsensically in a language Samson was unfamiliar with. The dragon shaman, still in Cleaver’s grip, craned his neck around and saw total blankness in the warrior’s cow eyes.
“Uh-oh,” he murmured. “Not good. Uh…guys! Help!” Quickly, the little goblin began scrabbling in his belt pouch as his feet dangled over the abyss. He seized a small flask, pulled the cork with his teeth, and quaffed it down. Then, twisting free of Cleaver’s grip, he flew through the air and snatched the reliquary. The odd creature howled again, and lunged for him, but as it moved, its body suddenly shimmered and flowed, taking the shape of a small, barking dog.
“You’re welcome,” Mandi said, hovering near the falls some thirty feet below.
Samson nodded, grudgingly, but at that moment, several things happened. Tower Cleaver ceased his babbling, roared in blind panic as his eyes fixed on the little terrier, dove towards the floor, batted Sepoto aside as if he were a rag doll, and vanished through the door and down the hall. At the same time, the dog began nipping and snapping at Samson’s feet.
“No!” the goblin shouted. “Bad dog!” He swung his morningstar and clipped the pooch on the snout. It yelped, and leaped back, but as it did, it lost its footing on the slippery rocks and plunged fifty feet to the floor below, where it lay unmoving.
“Should I go after him?” Sepoto shouted up to Mandi, nodding in the direction Cleaver had fled.
“No,” the sorceress replied, “The spell is short-lived. He’s a minotaur. They live in mazes. He’ll find his way back. In the mean time, I want to see what that big monkey was guarding.”
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Mandi was right about Tower Cleaver. The minotaur returned several minutes later, hang-dog and shame-faced. None of the others paid much attention to him, except for Samson, who gave him a consoling pat on the back. The rest of the little company was more interested in the parchment scroll Mandi had retrieved from the reliquary. Upon it was scribed a single powerful spell…one which would grant the reader a Miracle…
Six minds pondered in silence as they continued on their way. Each of the Legionnaires could easily come up with a dozen ways to put the scroll to use, and each coveted it and harbored suspicions as to the motives of their colleagues. Yet no one spoke of it. Before long they came to a single, relatively narrow hallway which wound due east. After a short distance, it opened into a small chamber. Once-colorful tapestries lay in moldering shreds on the floor, and mixed in with the tatters were patches of midnight black fur and piles of offal. A wild animal smell filled the room. It was apparent that the displacer beasts had claimed at least part of the area as their domain.
The corridor continued, doubling back on itself before emptying into a second small chamber. There a four-foot stone plinth rested in an alcove. Upon it sat a diorama of small gold and marble figures representing a jungle village with several human and animal occupants. Strange writing covered the walls of the alcove, and a fine mist fell from somewhere in the darkness above. Mandi translated the inscriptions, which amounted to little more than weighty philosophical matters related to the Shensites. Still the hall continued. They next came to a room which contained another alcove, this one holding a statue of a beautiful but dangerous-looking female elf with long, curving blades instead of hands. She seemed to be spinning in a cyclone of dust and water. The steady pitter-patter of rain created tiny rills flowing down its surface.
“Wynnarth the Dervish, whose dance brings breath and whose breath brings death,” Mandi translated. “It seems we’ve found another obah.”
“Strange,” Sepoto said, bending closer to examine the carving. “I recognize her. This is a representation of Gwynharwf, the Whirling Fury. Perhaps the Shensites worshipped other obahs that are merely different aspects of the gods we know. Jeran Emrikad should be very interested in that fact.”
Beyond that room, the corridor reached an intersection. To the southwest, a stair descended into the dripping darkness, while to the east a statue of a six-armed man wearing exotic armor loomed in another alcove.
“Hmm…” Sepoto said as he approached the statue. “There don’t seem to be any engravings on this one.”
Suddenly, the statues arms began to move, and one of them swung, log-like and connected solidly with the side of the goliath’s skull with an audible crack.
“It’s a golem!” Mandi shouted from her position near the rear of the group. Samson was already in motion, ducking between Tower Cleaver’s legs. Before he could get close enough to the golem, however, he too was caught by a hammering blow. As he sagged backwards, he stretched his jaws, spewing acid at the living statue.
“No, you fool!” Mandi screamed. “Acid heals these constructs!”
“Fine time to tell me!” Samson snapped back, but when he turned his head, the golem struck again. This time, the dragon shaman felt ribs snap and the bitter taste of blood in his mouth.
“Cleaver, get in there!” Mandi ordered as she began weaving her magic. She knew that constructs such as these were immune to most spells, but not the one she had in mind. Conjuring an orb of pure force, she hurled it at the statue. When it detonated, several pieces of terra cotta were blown from its body. At the same time, Tower Cleaver stepped into the breach, hammering his axe down upon the thing. Though the blade gouged a deep cleft in the automaton’s shoulder, it was not as telling as the minotaur had hoped. It was apparently resistant to physical force as well.
Samson was in dire straits. Instinctively, he called upon his draconic blood to heal his wounds, yet to his horror, the injuries would not close. His recuperative powers were not working!
“Daelric!” he called in desperation, struggling to scramble behind the wall of minotaur. He was not fast enough, however. The golem clipped him again, sending him careening into the far wall, where he lay, dazed. Sepoto quickly interposed himself between the golem and his friend, swinging his chain wildly. He paid for his heroism dearly. The construct swung two, huge fists, one of them glancing off the goliath’s shoulder, but the second one buried itself in his gut. Sepoto felt something inside give way and he vomited a great gout of blood and bile.
“Cleaver…” he wheezed, barely able to keep his feet. The big minotaur stared in shock at his companions, and then a red haze descended across his field of vision. When he roared, his howl shook the stone around them, and when he charged, he was like a living battering ram. His axe blade dropped like a felled-tree, and when it struck, the golem shattered into a thousand pieces.
Daelric quickly moved to tend to his friends, but when he tried to bring his curative prayers to bear, he made the same discovery as Samson. The wounds were cursed. They would not respond to his magic. Desperately he prayed to Shaundekal, begging his god to give him strength. Samson and Sepoto were exsanguinating in front of him. Several tense moments passed, but gradually their bleeding slowed and their respirations eased. It took several more minutes, and most of the priest’s power to mend the injuries completely. When he was done, he sat back, exhausted.
“We have to rest,” Mandi announced, assessing the sorry shape her group was in.
“But what if the storm ends in the meantime?” Marius asked. “What if we’re trapped here?”
“What if we’re all dead and it doesn’t matter?” the sorceress shot back. “Our resources are expended, and our physical strength depleted. If we don’t regroup and recuperate, we’ll never make it out of here.”
The others agreed, and Daelric used one of his few remaining prayers to create an extra-dimensional pocket to which the companions retreated. Outside, the storm raged on.
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The corridor branched again past the intersection. The path they took led to a short stair, which descended to a dead-end. The constant drizzle had flooded the lower section to a depth of a couple of inches. Standing at the end of the corridor was a statue in blue stone that depicted a tall woman dressed in revealing robes. Her carven face had an ageless beauty, yet the eyes glinted with a faint hint of cruelty. A shimmering line of script was carved into the stone above.
“Shamarae the Lover,” Mandi read, “promising bliss and delivering loss.”
“It’s Shami-Amourae,” Sepoto said quietly. “She was once the queen of succubi, but she is now exiled to an unknown part of the Abyss by her successor, Malcanthet. I do not know how I know this. I have never heard her name before in my studies. I just do.” Absently, he stroked the black fang which protruded from his mouth.
At that moment, a cacophony of shrieks and chitters broke out all around and above the group. Descending along the walls from the darkness above was a veritable swarm of the six-armed chokers Mandi, Samson and Marius had encountered earlier. There were at least a dozen in all, clinging to the mortar like obscene spiders. In a flurry of movement, they began lashing out with their long, rubbery appendages. Tower Cleaver was clipped in the side of the head several times, while Mandi, once more in her mephit aspect, was ripped out of the air by one of the little beasts, and reeled into a deadly lover’s embrace. The sorceress spoke a word of command, and the amulet around her neck flashed, granting her the power to invoke her magic though her arms were securely pinned at her side. Three scorching blasts of fire flew from her eyes, roasting the foul creature that held her. She was free an instant later.
The corridor was mass confusion. The chokers swarmed like monkeys, but the Legionnaires were seasoned veterans. Sepoto lay about him with his chain, while Samson breathed liquid death. Yet it was Tower Cleaver who was truly awesome to behold. Like a titan wading into battle, his great axe swung in a deadly arc, slicing chokers in two with each blow. One after the other, the creatures fell before his fury. In the end, even his companions ceased fighting just to watch him. He was in his element, and though blood and gore covered him, he laughed as if it were a spring shower on a sunny day.
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