JollyDoc's Savage Tide-Updated 10/8!
Joachim
First Post
javcs said:
CORRECT! Under the heading titled something like "Adding Common Effects to Existing Items". This section of the MIC is as ground-breaking as the new "Detect Magic + high Spellcraft Check = free Identify" portion of the book.
Seriously, these two sections remove two of the more annoying parts of the game...not being able to use cool magic items because you "needed that slot for your headband of intellect" and the need to burn 100gp and a spell slot to know that you have found a 50 gp potion of cure light wounds.
Joachim said:
I liked the older version of the Fatespinner from 3.0E. I can't comment on balance -- I never had the opportunity to play one -- but at least you could do more than just add spin in one go.
Lowering the DC on one spell to raise it on others? That makes a lot of sense to me...
Aholibamah
First Post
An epic fight at the end of one of the nastiest adventures! BTW I have to say your descriptions of the gruesome inhabitants made this very vivid, I can only imagine how exciting the game must have been.
And while I like this group in general I have to say that it really helps to have a smart spellcaster like Mandi around.
And while I like this group in general I have to say that it really helps to have a smart spellcaster like Mandi around.
carborundum
Adventurer
Extra time = extra quality update! Sweet!
As Homer would say, "Mmmmmmmmmm, words!"
As Homer would say, "Mmmmmmmmmm, words!"
JollyDoc
Explorer
R-Hero said:Aaaahh crap!!
I was looking forward to the next installment since you told me the working title.
p.s. I'm ready to quit my job if I can find another that will let me have my Sundays back.(Although I did just meet a potential gamer at work...)
I hope this wasn't the same one you told me about that you met on the psych ward!!
Anyway, as promised, I now present...
THE DEVIL WEARS COUATL
Lavinia Vanderboren was filled with pride and relief when her Legionnaires gave her the full report of all that had transpired in the lightless depths below ancient Thanaclan. They had performed above and beyond her expectations and helped stabilize her tenuous position as Lady Mayor.
“There’s one other thing,” Mandi said. “We told you of the village of mongrel folk that we encountered. Well, I’m afraid we may have overstepped our authority, but given the circumstances, I didn’t think you would mind.”
“What do you mean?” Lavinia asked, puzzled.
“It’s just that I think you are going to find yourself with around one-hundred and fifty new constituents in the next few days,” the elf wizard replied, a smile playing on her thin lips. “I invited Vertram and his people to make their way here and join our little experiment. I have reason to believe they are making this journey as we speak, and despite initial prejudices, I believe they will make a valuable addition to the community.”
Lavinia looked thoughtful, a playful smile on her face. “Manthalay won’t be happy.”
“Lord Meravanchi,” Mandi said with distaste, “may have bigger things to worry about soon.”
Lavinia cocked her head questioningly. “How so?”
“Let’s just say that I have sources that have kept me informed about certain…indiscretions on the part of your rival,” Mandi replied.
“I hope you’re not speaking of blackmail,” Lavinia said grimly. “I can’t condone that.”
“Oh, rest assured, that if these rumors bear fruit, there will be legitimate cause for action,” Mandi said cryptically.
“Well,” Lavinia waved dismissively, “we shall deal with that when the time comes. For now, there is someone who has been waiting to speak with you. Jakara arrived shortly before you did, and he has been staying at the chapel with Catherly. When you have rested, I think you should hear what he has to say.”
“There is no need to delay,” Sepoto said. “Lead the way.”
_________________________________________________________
They found Jakara in the narthex of the chapel, seated in a large chair and clutching an ivory scroll tube in his hands.
“My friends!” he exclaimed in his native tongue, smiling and rising to greet them. “I thank you again for delivering me from that cursed cavern.”
Daelric translated for the others as Mandi replied. “Say nothing of it. We only did what any other decent folk would have done in our place.”
“Nonetheless,” Jakara replied, “I owe you my life. Now, as I promised you, I have a tale to tell you. I have spoken with the priest, Catherly, and with your lovely patron as well, and they have highly recommended you for the task my master has set me upon. As I told you before, I am of the Tiger Clan, yet my people are not those of the Seven Villages. My tribe dwelt in a narrow valley in the mountains west of the central plateau…at least until recently. We have long known that there was a darkness atop that taboo place, that our ancient ancestors once dwelt there, and that they angered the gods and made this island what it is today. We do not go there. It is not safe. For some time, what dwelt there remained there as well. Yet of late, things have changed. The demons that dwell in the City of Broken Idols have turned their attentions outward, and earlier this year, my tribe was slaughtered by men wearing the skins of demon lions. I alone survived, and long were the nights I contemplated a suicide trek to the taboo heights to avenge my kin. Yet before I fell to such a lure, I met a man from your world. This was Noltus Innersol.
He had already gathered a flock from the island’s other tribes. Lizardfolk and phanaton and Maztican alike followed him, and his words were captivating. I found much wisdom in them, for he too had long fought against the demon host. He seemed particularly taken with my totems, and my focus in opposing the demons. For a time, I traveled with him, and helped him to gather more followers. Noltus had learned of the lost village of Mantru, and his goal was to travel there, atop the central plateau, and rescue the villagers from whatever peril kept them isolated from their kin.”
“Yet he was also taken with my skills. He decided he would lead his followers to bring the word of his god to the heights, yet asked me to carry a message to your tribe of Farshore. He also asked me to spread the lore of totems to the people of the Seven Villages. It has been the wisdom of my tribe to keep such knowledge to ourselves, but I see now that it can serve no purpose if I am the last.”
“Before I made it to Farshore, alas, my trail was discovered by the skin-wearing fiends. I hid Noltus’s message in the stump of a tree and turned to face my tormentors, but they proved too much even for me. I defeated them, but not before they stole my mind. It was not long until the troglodytes captured me, and thus my state when you discovered me, wretched in their cage. After you freed me, I returned to the site of my failure to find Noltus’s message safe. I have brought it here, and your priest and patron have read its contents. They wish you to read it as well.”
At this point, Jakara passed Mandi the scroll tube. It was crafted of ivory and inlaid with gold, depicting holy symbols of Lathander. Mandi opened it, and unfurled the parchment within. She began to read:
“To Vesserin Catherly…
My friend, I write you this letter to inform you of a most terrible discovery. Know first that the man who carries this letter is also a friend, and that his skills and techniques for standing against the demonic host may well serve you and the people of the Seven Villages well in the months to come. Learn from him, for what he has to teach is of great value.
But to the news at hand: I had decided to follow up on the Maztican tales of the village of Mantru, that isolated tribe dwelling in Thanaclan’s shadow atop the plateau. I had hoped to contact the village, to bring the Sun Father’s hope to them, for as you will recall, I believe I can use their worship of violent Tonatiuh to my favor. Lathander and this savage deity have more in common than my brethren might admit. The Stone of the Sun and the Moon all but proves it. By showing the villagers of Mantru Lathander’s wisdom, I had hoped to civilize them.
Yet from all appearances, Mantru may be lost. You are well aware of the rumors that something dire has taken up residence in the City of Broken Idols. The Seven Villages call the central plateau taboo for strong and true reasons. Yet what dwells on high is no longer content with the ruins of Thanaclan. The man who brings you this letter is proof of this fear, for his tribe was slaughtered by savage heathens from the central plateau. Men who wear the skins of demons, and who keep those they capture alive for unknowable reasons before they return to their lair in the City of Broken Idols.
I have seen evidence of these heathens at work elsewhere, and have even encountered some of their dead. Yet I do not fear them, for no demon can withstand the purity of my convictions. I shall lead my new followers atop the central plateau. We shall deliver the children of Mantru from their oppressors and defeat the fiends. Yet should clouds or the fall of night keep Lathander from my side, and should I fall, know that the evil that broods in the City of Broken Idols does not rest. If you should seek to follow in my footsteps, bring with you the Stone of the Sun and the Moon. I have come to believe that it may hold the key to what destroyed Thanaclan lo so long ago.
I do not fear for my own life. Lathander has set me upon this course for a reason. With Bulgan’s constant companionship, I am never alone on my quest. But I do fear what these fiends might try if none beyond me take up arms against them. If I do not return, I ask only that you fight as you can, and that this missive be sent on to the Lady Gosalar of the Tashluta Dawnhouse as my final testament.”
Your Friend,
Noltus Innersol
“What is this Stone of the Sun and the Moon he spoke of?” Marius asked at length.
In answer, Catherly brought forth from his robes a stone disc.
“This was recovered by Noltus from a ruined shrine several years ago,” the priest explained. “It was the genesis of his interest in this island, since the particular style of carvings matches that found on the Maztican ruins here. How it came to be located in the mainland jungle ruin in which Noltus found it remains a mystery, but with the use of divination, he was able determine three points of interest about it that he shared with me. First, he was sure the disc originated in the ruins of Thanaclan, as evidenced by the distinctive representation of Quetzalcoatl, god of the air, as a serpent coiled through the firmament. Second, the three humanoid figures depicted represent Tezcatlipoca, the god of the moon, Tonatiuh, the god of the sun, and Quetzalcoatl in human form holding court over the others. Finally, the three deities are shown as working together, strange since Tezcatlipoca and Quetzalcoatl are enemies, their attentions focused on what appears to be a bow. This long vexed Noltus. He eventually came to believe that the disc was in fact an illustration of a weapon the three gods came together to create, yet he had been unable to discover any legends of such a bow. He suspected that the carving was somehow a map to the location of this ancient weapon.”
“Which brings us to the crux of the matter,” Lavinia interrupted. “While Catherly would urge you to go to Thanaclan in search of this weapon, it is my fear that whatever has laid claim to the City of Broken Idols is the source of the raw materials the koprus were using to create the shadow pearls. If a new source of evil is spreading from the central plateau, it’s only a matter of time before these fiend-wearing monsters turn their eyes south.”
The Legionnaires were silent as they mulled over the information they’d been give, but finally Sepoto spoke for them all.
“We are at your disposal, my Lady, as always, and if this is your will, then we shall do your bidding. You say Noltus was going to Mantru first?” he asked Jakara.
“That was his plan,” the warrior nodded.
“Where is this village?” asked Sepoto.
“On the southwest shore of Broken Lake, which lies in the center of the plateau. An island near its northeast shore holds the remains of ancient Thanaclan,” Jakara replied.
“Then we shall leave at first light,” Mandi said, “and Mantru shall be our preliminary destination.”
_____________________________________________________________
The following morning, Mandi and the others assembled in the great hall of Lavinia’s home. They bade their patron farewell, and then the elf wove her magic, instantly transporting the company hundreds of miles north, once more to Gallivant Cove. From there they began the day-long trek south into the island’s interior, to the central plateau. They reached the base of its three-thousand foot, sheer cliffs as the sun began to sink below the western horizon. Finding no obvious means of scaling the heights, each of the companions imbibed an elixir which enabled them to fly, and they soared like a strange covey of geese to the summit of the plateau.
The plateau was wide, some twenty or more miles in diameter. They camped on the edge of the cliffs and resumed their journey the following day. After several hours of walking across the flat grasslands, they began to see evidence of the ancient civilization in the form of broken walls and cracked columns protruding, vine covered, from the earth. The ruins became more evident as they neared the northern shore of Broken Lake. From there, miles to the east, they could just make out the island upon which the City of Broken Idols itself rested. Their path took them south and west, however, and the spent most of the remainder of the day skirting the shore of the lake. Finally, as the sun began to set once more, they came upon the small village of Mantru, nestled on the very shores of the lake water. The town consisted of eight thatched lodges of various sizes, two of which were built on stilted platforms out in the lake itself. There was no sign of life. Not even a dog barked, and yet there was no evidence of violence either. All of the buildings were intact, no blood stained the grounds, and no bodies were visible.
No sooner had the Legionnaires passed the village’s perimeter, than the air before them began to shimmer as two winged serpents wavered into view. Mandi cursed silently to herself as she saw them: couatls.
‘We greet you, mortals, with hope and sadness,’ the musical voices of the creatures spoke simultaneously into the minds of each of the companions. ‘We have been expect…’ Their voices trailed off as they spied Mandi. Though she was in her normal, elven form, rather than that of a demon, the slitted eyes of the couatls narrowed dangerously, and their forked tongues flicked rapidly.
‘What is the meaning of this desecration?’ they hissed angrily.
“What do you mean?” Daelric replied.
‘Do not take us for fools!’ the serpents screeched. ‘We can see clearly that your associate is clad in the…skin…of one of our brethren!’
“I thought you said they were demon snakes,” Samson said, glowering angrily at the elf.
Mandi shrugged. “I said what I had to say. We needed the weapons cache.”
‘You will leave this sacred place! Now!’ the couatls commanded.
“Please,” Daelric said placatingly as he stepped forward. “We are here in search of a priest of Lathander. A missionary named Noltus Innersol. Please do not judge us based on the actions of our associate.”
The couatl’s glared at Daelric as if he were a dim-witted child. ‘We…will…not…negotiate…with…someone…who…wears…our…skin…for…a…dress!’ they said slowly and deliberately.
At that point, Mandi raised her hands in mock surrender. “Look. If you must take issue with someone, then let it be me. Your kinsman attacked me when all that I asked was his assistance in helping me to procure a weapon store to defend our village of Farshore from invading pirates. Still, I can understand your ire. I will leave, and offend you no further. Just please hear out my friends.”
‘If one of our kind attacked you,’ the couatls snarled, ‘then there must have been good reason! You are correct. You will leave, and you will take your friends with you!’
Daelric stepped forward again, this time producing the disc given to them by Jakara. “Look at this,” he said. “Can you not see the image of Quetzalcoatl? This was given to us by the Lathanderite. Would he have done such a thing if he did not trust us?”
‘More likely that you killed him and took it from his body,’ the couatls spat. ‘Why do you not wear his hide as well?’
During the conversation, Tower Cleaver had been edging closer to one of the huts.
‘Stop!’ the couatls commanded. ‘This will be our last warning! Leave now before we forget our vows and are forced to do you all great harm!’
Sepoto fingered his chain, eyes flinty. Marius stood calmly, knowing full well what the couatls were, but feeling no obligation to share this information with his partners. Samson looked nervous, his eyes flicking back and forth between the couatls and his friends, wondering which would strike first, and more importantly, whose side he would be on. It was Mandi who broke the stalemate.
“I’m leaving,” she announced. “There’s nothing here we can use. Let the snakes return to their duty. We will find our answers elsewhere.” With that, she turned on her heel and marched from the village. One by one, her teammates followed. Marius was the last to depart, giving a teasing wave to the couatls as he went, tell-tale tendrils of smoke wafting from his fingertips.
____________________________________________________________
“I apologize for nothing,” Mandi snapped as Samson continued his interrogation. They had made camp a mile or two from Mantru, and were now gathered round their fire, debating the events of the day. “I did what needed to be done, and dozens of Farshore citizens are alive today because of it,” the wizardess continued.
“And you didn’t include us in your decision making,” Samson barked back. “Instead you unilaterally took it upon yourself to be god-like and hand down your decree! Well I’m telling you right now that I’m done! If you lie to us again, I will resign from the company. I will offer my services to the Jade Ravens. I trust that ogre more than I do you!”
“Such fire,” Mandi smiled. “Careful making threats you may not be able to carry through. We’re a long way from Farshore, and a lot can happen before we return to civilization again.”
“Is that supposed to intimidate me?” Samson said as he rose to his feet, his hand on the haft of his morningstar. Mandi shrugged, still smiling.
“Enough,” Sepoto said, stepping between the two. “Samson, I understand your point, but I do not disagree with Mandi’s goal.”
“The end does not justify the means!” Samson shouted.
“Possibly,” the crusader said, noncommittally. He then turned to Mandi. “On the other hand, I also take issue with being left in the dark. In the future, if you have information to share, see that you do it. We are a team, and last I checked, no one had been appointed field commander. We make group decisions from this point on.”
Mandi nodded slightly, willing to acquiesce for the sake of party unity, but knowing it was a promise she would never keep.
“Hello the camp!” a voice suddenly called out of the darkness. Instantly the Legionnaires were on their feet, hands on weapons, or incantations on lips. A group of a half-dozen or so men walked into the firelight. They were led by a tall, red-haired and bearded man wearing tattered clerical vestments. A heavy mace hung from his belt. A small dog trotted along at his feet. The six others with him were Maztican, all armed with bows and macuahuitls, the sword-like traditional weapons of the tribes. Mandi and Daelric, who had seen Noltus Innersol before when he had visited Farshore, recognized the missionary at once.
“Noltus Innersol?” Mandi asked, suspiciously.
“The same,” the priest answered. “Do I know you?”
“Perhaps,” Mandi replied. “We are from Farshore. Me and my colleague,” she gestured towards Daelric, “were there when you passed through.”
Recognition suddenly shown in Noltus’s eyes, and he nodded. “Yes, of course! You are Ozymandia, of the Jade Ravens, and Daelric…you worked with Vesserin. How is my old friend?”
“He is well,” Daelric said flatly. “As is the man you sent to him…” He let the statement hang, looking for any sign of duplicity on the priest’s face.
“Jakara,” Noltus answered at once. “Praise Lathander he made it safely. Then Vesserin must have sent you here to aid me.”
“Perhaps,” Mandi said. “Yet we would like to be certain that you are who you say you are. By your own testament, there are demonic shapechangers in these lands.”
Noltus held up one hand, shaking his head. “You can see for yourself that my followers and I have been in battle. We are tired and wounded. If you cannot take me at my word, then we shall leave you in peace and be on our way. We hope to make Mantru by first light.”
“There’s no one there,” Samson interrupted. “We were just there this morning. Not a soul, save for four winged snakes, who would not reveal to us the fate of the villagers.” He cut his eyes viciously at Mandi.
“Couatls?” Noltus asked. “In Mantru? And they would not aid you? How strange. Are you certain they were what they claimed?”
“We have our doubts,” Mandi answered before Samson could incriminate them further. “You can see for yourself in the morning.”
“We shall indeed,” Noltus said sternly. “We shall know the truth of these creatures. If you like, we could report back to you if you’re still here.”
“That would be well,” Mandi said. “As for ourselves, we plan on visiting the island tomorrow. We intend on taking this.” She held out the disc Catherly had given them.
Noltus breathed deeply when he saw it. “You’ve brought it then. Well done. I had hoped the Mantru villagers could reveal more to me about it, but now it seems any answers must be found in the City of Broken Idols. If you await us here tomorrow, we shall accompany you.”
“Your help would be most welcome,” Mandi replied. “You may share our camp tonight. Daelric will tend your wounds. You must then excuse him, Marius and myself. As a practitioner of the arts, you well know of our need for rest.”
Mandi then set about creating a Rope Trick, the extradimensional refuge accessed by a length of twine that ascended into the air, seemingly just to hang, yet really allowing access to a comfortable resting place, safe from prying eyes. Daelric walked among Noltus and his followers, rendering what aid he could.
“Good night then,” he said when he was done. “You will be safe here with Sepoto, Tower Cleaver and Samson.”
“I’m certain of that!” Noltus laughed. “You certainly have an odd assortment of companions, but then again…so do I!”
Daelric chuckled and then scaled the rope.
______________________________________________________________
“Wait a few minutes,” Mandi told Daelric once the priest had joined her and Marius. “Cast your spell of True Sight and then descend, feigning you forgot something in your pack. Turn your gaze on all of them, are you clear?”
“Crystal,” Daelric nodded.
_____________________________________________________________
Onailati spoke into the minds of his minions, ‘They suspect nothing,’ he said. ‘Place yourselves strategically about the camp, but in such a way so as not to arouse suspicion. On my word, we kill them all!’
______________________________________________________________
“He seems to like you!” Noltus smiled, nodding his head at the dog, which had attached itself to Sepoto’s heel, following him around the camp as he made his patrol. “His name is Bulgan. He’s seen me through many trials.”
Sepoto glanced down at the cur and smiled slightly. He’d never liked dogs…or children, for that matter. Noltus then made his way over to Samson.
“So your people revere dragons, is that so?” he asked.
“Yes,” Samson replied. “You see, it all began millennia ago…” he warmed to his subject matter, eager to speak of his heritage. Noltus listened attentively, all the while marking the position of his followers. Four of them knelt around the fire, near at hand, while a fifth stood apart from the rest. The last had struck up a sign-language conversation with the minotaur, the brute going along with the hand game enthusiastically.
Noltus’s gaze abruptly shifted from the rambling goblin to the suspended rope. The priest was shimmying back down it.
‘Be alert,’ he told the others. Sure enough, the dolt’s face said it all. As he reached the ground and looked around, his eyes went as wide as saucers. No gambler’s face, that one.
‘Now!’ he called, and in seconds, all Hell broke loose.
Daelric barely had time to register what he was seeing. None of the strangers were what they appeared. The Mazticans still seemed vaguely human, but they were not men. They wore what appeared to be the hides of a demonic lions. The undersides of the skins were raw muscle, fused to their skin and become one with them. The beasts’ heads reared up around the heads of their wearers, while their forelimbs, hanging down from the Maztican’s shoulders, writhed like snakes ready to strike. Noltus himself was some sort of muscular, gray-skinned humanoid with taloned hands, sunken eyes, and a mouthful of sharp teeth. Even the dog was not as it seemed. Instead, Daelric saw a hulking monster, eighteen feet tall, looming over Sepoto. It was akin to a massive baboon, with long, muscular arms possessing additional joints along their length, and its maw was oversized and filled with immense teeth. As Daelric’s eyes locked with Noltus’s, he knew that whatever had taken the form of the priest was aware the ruse was over, and that meant the time for killing had come.
Only Sepoto’s instinct and cat-like reflexes saved him. One moment the dog was lapping at his hand, and the next a creature out of nightmare stood next to him, its saber-like claws swinging for his head. The crusader leaped to one side, spinning his chain from around his wrists as he moved, putting several feet of distance between himself and the monstrosity. Glancing quickly around, he saw a flurry of activity in the camp. Daelric had vanished, obviously seeking the safety of invisibility, but Noltus had disappeared as well. Four of the Mazticans were rushing towards Samson, their forms shifting as they went, until he saw them as Daelric did. The fifth one had risen magically into the air, while the one near Cleaver had drawn its sword and was circling the confused minotaur warily. This wasn’t good, and Sepoto knew that Mandi and Marius could hear none of it, isolated as they were in the Rope Trick. He only prayed to Savras that they just happened to be peering down through the window-like opening of the portal at that moment.
Samson had no idea what was happening. One minute he was regaling Noltus with tales of his homeland and tribe, and the next, Noltus was gone, and four demonic lion-men were charging towards him. Just before they reached him, they leaped into the air, swords raised, claws flailing, teeth bared. They struck like a pack of rabid wolves, their obsidian blades slashing his flesh, while the seemingly self-animate fangs and talons of the lion skins they wore ripped and tore at him. The goblin’s head swam as he spun crazily, trying to ward off blows from all sides. Suddenly, Noltus appeared in front of him, and for a moment the dragon shaman felt relief. Then, however, the priest’s features began to melt and flow until a ghoul-like thing, wielding Noltus’s great mace leered at him as it raised the weapon. After the second hit, everything went black, and fortunately for him, Samson never felt the third.
Sepoto saw Samson go down under the horde of demons, but unfortunately he was busy with his own. The great ape swiped one platter-sized paw at him, and three bright-red rips appeared in his breast plate, pouring blood. The crusader recoiled, but immediately regained his footing, pressing his own attack. His chain seemed like an extension of his body, slicing as easily through fur and sinew as it did through air. The monkey demon snarled and backed several feet away, where it crouched, waiting for an opening to spring. Then, Sepoto saw something that made his heart leap with joy. Appearing out of thin air from the top of the rope was Marius, his hands wreathed in sizzling blue lightning.
Marius and Mandi had indeed been watching Daelric’s descent. So when they saw the stricken look on the priest’s face, followed by his abrupt disappearance, they knew immediately that something was wrong.
“Go ahead!” Mandi shouted as her form shifted to that of a barbed-skinned devil. “I’m right behind you!”
Marius nodded, and dove head-first down the hole. As he tumbled towards the ground, a spell was already on his lips. He hit hard, but rolled with it, coming up on one side. Just as Samson fell beneath the demonic onslaught, the warmage loosed his magic. An arc of electricity flashed from him to the nearest demon, and then jumped to the next, and the next. All three of them jittered and shook as the lightning coursed through their bodies. Unfortunately, it was not enough to kill them. As one, all four of them turned towards the gnome, teeth bared, their own as well as the snarling lion heads above them. With a horrifying roar they rushed Marius.
Tower Cleaver was very confused, which was not a new sensation for the barbarian. Fortunately, he was not a deep or complex thinker. Often things were black and white to him. Such as now. On the one hand, their new found allies all looked different and were suddenly attacking. On the other, his tribe-mates were in danger. The latter fact was all that mattered. Hefting his axe, he turned towards the lion-thing in front of him. The little creature danced nimbly at the edge of his reach, darting in every now and then to slash at him. The big minotaur barely felt the blows. His vision began to cloud and go red. His focus narrowed. All he could see was his enemy. With a snort and a snarl that would freeze a lesser man’s blood, he surged forward, his axe a blur of ruin before him.
Reflexively, Marius threw his hands up in a warding gesture. It was a futile one. The skinwalkers pounced on him like lions on a wounded gazelle. Teeth, claws and blades bit into him, bringing pain upon pain. Then, a blinding flash of searing agony in his lower back, followed by blissful numbness below his waist. His hands automatically sought out the wound, and they came back blood-soaked, with bits of white bone stuck to his finger tips.
Onailati was ecstatic. The fools were falling as easily as the Lathanderite and his followers had. He looked down at the goblin at his feet. His Sight told him that the wretched creature still lived, but only just, which was exactly how he wanted it. Calling the dark powers of necromancy to his hand, he bent down and gently caressed Samson’s forehead, drawing his soul from his body. As the dragon shaman breathed his last, Onailati exulted in the raw power of a living essence. Suddenly, he turned, sniffing the air, head cocked. Daelric froze where he had been quietly making his way towards his fallen comrade, still cloaked in invisibility. With a savage growl, Onailati leaped directly at him, his mace crushing the priest’s collar bone, driving him to one knee. Involuntarily, Daelric cried out.
“I have you now,” Onailati hissed as he raised his weapon again.
‘To me, my pet!’ the giant julajimus heard Onailati call in his mind. He turned his great head towards his master and sensed prey nearby. Snorting, he began to move away from Sepoto, gaining speed as he dropped to all fours.
“Not so fast!” Sepoto snarled as he whipped his chain around the demon’s forelimbs, wrapping about the wrists and pulling them from under the beast. The julajimus went face-first into the dirt, brought up short. I’s muzzle full of earth, it spat, shaking its massive head and turning its feral gaze back upon the crusader.
The distraction was just what Daelric needed. Rising to his feet, he darted towards Samson and away from the thing that had worn Noltus’s shape.
“It’s not time to go to the clearing at the end of the path just yet, my friend,” the priest whispered as he began to chant and pray, passing his hands above the goblin’s corpse. To the priest’s dawning horror, however, nothing was happening. Samson did not draw breath. His eyes did not open. It was as if whatever killed him had simply snuffed his soul out of existence.
Marius struggled to push himself upright, yet he could not feel his legs. The skinwalkers were still all around him, poised to strike again. Desperately, he began to speak the words to a spell, intending on immolating himself and his attackers, but then, through a break in the surrounding mob, he saw the starlit sky above. A shadow crossed the moon…another skinwalker, this one flying like a great bat. It pointed its finger at the warmage and intoned its own spell. A stabbing pain went through his forehead and all coherent thought left him. He knew only that predators were about, and he must flee if he was to survive. Crawling on his belly like a lizard, he reached the end of the dangling rope and scuttled up it, using only his hands, until he vanished into thin air.
Mandi knew that time was running out. Her gamble was a desperate one, but it was now or never. Gathering herself, she leaped out of the Rope Trick just as Marius crawled in and curled himself into a fetal position. Like a dark angel of death, she landed in a crouch among the skinwalkers, yet she ignored them. Focusing all of her attention on the maurezhi demon that she now knew must have consumed the real Noltus Inersol, she spoke words of power, intoning a curse on the fiend, one that would leave him vulnerable to her next attack. The belt around her waist suddenly flared with light, filling her with its store of magical energy. Drawing a thin stick from a pouch, she jabbed it into her thigh, raising her voice as she did so.
“In the name of all that opposes thee and would see thee returned to thy eternal damnation, I rebuke thee!!”
Onailati quailed before the power of her words, and then, as the force of her spell struck him, he shrieked in unholy agony, his body shriveling to a dried husk in a matter of seconds. His corpse fell into dust at the feet of his stunned minions. But Mandi was not through. Turning her attention to the sorcerous skinwalker flying above her, she dug deeper into her arcane repertoire, knowing the use of such power would leave her dazed and vulnerable as she raised her hand into the air. A flash of white light engulfed the demon, and when it faded, those watching below were stunned to see that he had been turned to pure glass. He fell silently to the earth, thirty feet below, and when he struck, he shattered like a stained-glass window, shards flying in all directions. Mandi heaved with her exertions, her eyes dim and cloudy.
“Well I’ll just be damned,” Sepoto breathed quietly. Now he knew why, despite her selfish and self-serving nature, he and the others kept Mandi around. However, she hadn’t managed to take out the big monkey, and so the goliath still had a problem on his hands. Summoning Savras’ power, he imbued his weapon with an edge sharp enough to flay the hide from an earth elemental. As the julajimus rose to its feet, Sepoto struck. The chain tore across the demon’s scalp, leaving it hanging in a tattered flap, temporarily blinding the fiend with its own blood. The demon rose to its full height at that point, and let loose a deafening roar that could be heard for miles. The force of it struck everyone, both friend and foe alike, like a battering ram. One of the skinwalkers dropped dead instantly, while three others grabbed their ears, blood pouring from between their fingers. Daelric felt his own eardrums rupture as well, and he realized that he could no longer even hear himself speak the necessary words to his prayers.
The titanic bellow didn’t even slow Tower Cleaver. The minotaur’s axe swept the head from the demon cowering before him, and then his momentum carried him forward, towards the group that had been huddled around Marius. Lowering his head as he went, Cleaver impaled a second skinwalker on his horns, lifting it into the air like a gory crown. The two remaining fiends began to circle the raging behemoth in their midst, looking for any opening…knowing they would find only death.
It seemed the julajimus had had enough. Still pawing at its scalped head, it began lumbering towards the lake, but a second swipe of Sepoto’s chain stopped it cold. Abruptly, its form wavered and shifted into that of a small bird, taking wing. By this time, however, Mandi had recovered from her ordeal and managed to send a deadly beam of green light after the fleeing demon, burning it to ash in mid-flight. Sepoto nodded his appreciation, and then turned towards Cleaver and the skinwalkers. Issuing his own bellowing challenge, the crusader charged across the campsite, slamming full-force into the nearest fiend and snapping its spine with the force of his blow. Tower Cleaver finished the other with a double-grip, over-handed chop from his axe, leaving the remains of the creature unrecognizable as anything humanoid.
As the dust settled, however, the Legionnaires realized just how dearly their victory had cost them. Samson was dead. Daelric was maimed, and Marius’ mind was gone. The inhabitants of the City of Broken Idols had lost the first battle, but had perhaps secured the war.
Joachim
First Post
Why do people get this impression that Mandi is selfish and/or self-serving? Ruthless, yes...arrogant (or is it confident?), absolutely...but selfish? Nah.
EDIT: Sweet description on the Final Rebuke...reminded me of the scene in Raiders of the Lost Ark when they opened the Ark of the Covenant.
EDIT: Sweet description on the Final Rebuke...reminded me of the scene in Raiders of the Lost Ark when they opened the Ark of the Covenant.
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