JZADIRUNE PART 2
Just as Oso prepared to bring up the rear for the group descending the stairs, a ferocious pounding sounded from the shop’s front door.
Pez bulled his way back up the stairwell, “The rest of you wait here. I’ll take care of this.” The warrior approached the door cautiously, and threw back the latch. He opened the portal just a crack. At first he saw nothing at all, but then he glanced downward and saw a very taciturn-looking dwarf standing on the stoop. The fellow had fiery red hair and a thick beard to match. He was clad in heavy chain armor, and he clutched a warhammer in one mailed fist. An amulet of some sort hung around his neck, and it took Pez only a moment to realize that it bore the symbol of the Lady of the Weave…Mystra.
“Er…can I help you good sir?” he asked politely.
“I’m lookin’ fer a gnome by the name o’ Ghelve,” the dwarf barked, “This here be his shop don’ it? Is he in there?”
“I’m afraid not, master dwarf,” Pez answered calmly, “You might try the temple of Tyr. You see, the locksmith is, shall we say, indisposed at the moment. He is a ‘guest’ in the dungeons of the temple.”
“Is that right?” the dwarf said skeptically, “Who be you then? I seen you and yer pals sneakin’ in here. What’re ye up to?”
“Nothing that concerns you, I assure you.” Said Pez.
“I’ll be the judge o’ what concerns me, and what don’t, and I aim to have a look around this shop and see fer meself if the gnomes here or not.”
“You’ll be breaking the law if you do, my good dwarf, and I warn you, breaking the law in my presence would be very bad for your health.”
“Why you underfed, pointy eared, tree worshipin’…”
“Your pardon, sir,” the door was pulled open completely as Salazar decided it was time to intervene before the situation got out of hand, “but perhaps if you tell us what you want with master Ghelve, we might be able to be more helpful.”
The dwarf drew himself up to his full height (not really much of an accomplishment), “My name be Rustifarius Deepdelver, Rusty for short. I’m lookin’ fer the gnome cause I hear tell he’s got information about an old gnomish outpost here abouts.”
“Gnomish outpost, you say?” Sal’s curiosity was definitely piqued. “Why are you looking for that?”
“Like I said, that’s my own business, but if ye must know, my business concerns some missin’ kinsfolk o’ mine. Haven’t heard from’em in o’er a year, and last report put’em in the vicinity o’ this outpost.”
Salazar stepped outside briefly, and ushered the dwarf into the store, “Let’s go in here where we can speak privately, away from prying eyes. Allow me to introduce myself; Salazar Toulousse at your service. You’ve already met Pez…”
“Dispenser of Justice.” Pez finished.
“Um…yes,” Sal continued, “and this is my partner, Tillian Wanderfar, while that gentleman there is Oso. We happen to know something about this outpost you are seeking. It’s called Jzadirune, and it lies beneath this very shop. We are actually on our way there now.”
“What fer?” the dwarf asked suspiciously.
“Well, I’m afraid that’s a matter of some sensitivity, but let’s just say we are private investigators looking into the disappearances of some of our fair city’s fine, upstanding citizenry.”
“So, yer lookin’ into the kidnappins’ eh? Well then, seein’ as how we’re all headed in the same direction, I’ll just follow you fellas fer a spell, till I find what it is I’m lookin’ fer.”
“It would seem prudent,” Sal agreed, “We can combine our resources for a common goal, because I should warn you…there are many dangers down there, and I think you’ll need us more than we’ll need you.”
“Hmph, we’ll see about that,” Rusty grinned, “Just point the way…”
Despite their fears that the escaped skulk might have organized all of his fellows in preparation of their return, all was quiet and unchanged as they stood in the room where they first encountered the assassins.
“We’ll try this way first,” Pez indicated the small, burrowed tunnel that the skulk had fled down, “Single file. I’ll lead.”
Once again they formed up, Pez at point, followed by Tilly, then Sal, Rusty and finally Oso.
The tunnel turned and twisted for quite some distance, branching and forking occasionally. Down one of these side passages, something caught Pez’ attention. His sharp ears once again caught the sounds of birds chirping. Had they made a big circle? Then, however, he was sure he felt a soft breeze of fresh air. Motioning for his companions to hold their position, he crept ahead.
The passage opened up into what appeared to be an outdoor courtyard, of all things. Four great trees sprouted from a grassy floor, their leafy crowns fanning out twenty feet overhead to form a roof of deciduous leaves through which rays of sunshine filtered. Brambles and thickets formed impenetrable walls around the perimeter, although two bramble archways were set into the north and south walls.
Nothing stirred in the room, save the gentle swaying of the leaves. ‘What sort of sorcery is this?’ Pez wondered. He stepped into the area, feeling the spongy grass beneath his feet, smelling the scent of the trees. He waved the others forward, and they were just as taken aback as he. “Well, there’s one way to find out if what we’re seeing is real,” he said, shrugging off his pack and cloak. His great wings billowed out and tested the breeze.
“Well now,” Rusty said, rubbing his beard, “there’s somethin’ ye don’t see every day. I guess I’ll have to stop tellin’ me chums ‘when elves fly’ every time I don’ believe somethin’.”
Pez gathered himself, and leapt into the air, his wings beating mightily downward to gain altitude. Just as he was reaching full momentum, he slammed headlong into some sort of invisible barrier about twenty feet off the ground. He reeled backward and tumbled back down, landing hard on the grass, which certainly didn’t feel soft and springy now.
“Hah! That was great!” Tilly shouted, clapping his hands, “Do it again! Can you do a somersault on the way down this time?”
Pez glared at the halfling as he climbed to his feet. He looked up towards the sky again, but this time it looked different somehow…almost transparent. He could just barely see the outline of a stone ceiling beyond it.
“An illusion. Can’t you all see it? Look hard…look past what your eyes tell you.”
The rest of them stared intently at the scenery. Tilly walked up to one of the trees, and reached out to touch it. “It’s not real!” he said, “None of it is…it’s all kind of…ghosty looking now.”
“Leave it to a gnome to turn perfectly good stonework into some fanciful nonsense.” Rusty said in disgust. “Which way from here?”
The group randomly chose north, and descending a short stair, they came upon yet another empty chamber. Again, two small tunnels were burrowed through the walls at opposite ends, while a worked passage straight across the room ended at another of the impassable gear doors.
“Wait a minute,” Sal suddenly stopped, “Did you hear that?”
Before the others could respond, a shout came from the empty room, “Taral yan zyggek!” Footsteps could be heard rapidly moving towards the western tunnel.
“Not so fast, yer little rat!” Rusty shouted, bounding into the room.
“No wait!” Sal cried, but it was too late. The dwarf had taken no more than five steps, before he vanished into thin air.
“Rusty!” Tilly wailed.
“What?” the dwarf’s voice sounded from somewhere in the chamber, “I’m right here. Can’t you see me?”
“He’s invisible!” Sal said, “Some sort of magic! Rusty, keep going! Don’t let him get away!”
“Right!” They could hear the dwarf’s heavy trod now heading for the tunnel, and then…he reappeared, just as he reached the tunnel mouth.
“More gnomish trickery” Pez muttered, “Let’s go!”
One by one they dashed across the room, each one briefly becoming invisible, before reappearing again at the tunnel.
Oso was bringing up the rear, still unseen in the room, when he stopped dead in his tracks. Something had just moved behind him, from farther back in the chamber. Something big. He could hear slow, heavy footsteps moving towards him. He turned quickly, bow in hand, but could see nothing. Suddenly, an ear-splitting shriek reverberated throughout the room. Oso automatically grabbed his head, which felt like it was cracking in two.
Tilly, just inside the tunnel mouth also caught the full brunt of the assault.
Pez had turned a corner and although the shrill was piercing, it was tolerable. He shouted ahead to Sal and Rusty, “Keep going! We’ve got company back here! I’ll get the others, and we’ll catch up!”
Thought he was reluctant to leave Tilly, Sal knew if there was something big back there, Pez was probably better equipped to deal with it. He hurried after Rusty, and the two found themselves in a darkened workshop of some kind. A stone oven filled one corner, while iron tongs hung from nearby hooks. Bottles, flasks and pottery cluttered several shelves, and tables were pushed haphazardly against the otherwise bare walls. Shards of broken glass and ceramic covered the floor. There appeared to be no one here, though two closed gear doors stood at opposite ends, and an open archway lay to the north.
Sal indicated silently to Rusty that he would check the south end of the room, while the dwarf looked north.
Just then, Sal caught a hint of movement from a far corner. It seemed as if a patch of darkness, somehow darker than the shadows there, had shifted.
“Rusty, here!” the rogue cried, leaping forward, and thrusting his light towards the corner. There he revealed a swirling cloud of shadow, but within it was a creature. It was about the size of a gnome, but was swathed in black from head to toe, only its rat-like eyes visible above a cloth mask. It had soft hooves instead of feet, and a wickedly curved dagger was clutched in one hand.
Oso quickly recovered his wits, and began backing towards the tunnel, his bow darting this way and that, searching for a target.
Tilly had also recovered, and he hastily retreated around the corner and behind Pez.
“Ranger, hurry up!” Pez called. The elf turned and fell back to Pez’ position.
Then they heard it again, the slow plodding footsteps. This time, there also seemed to be a metallic clanking. It drew closer, and suddenly around the corner appeared a monstrosity beyond words. It had a tubular, bulbous, metallic body, but no head to speak of. A hollow opening on the front of its chest pointed right at them. It had two hinged legs, and large flat feet. Its arms ended not in hands, but rather in pointed, spiked drills.
As it face them, it unleashed another of the mind-numbing shrieks…
The shadowy creature leaped at Sal, but the rogue dodged deftly to the side. He brought his own blade to bear just as Rusty joined him, hammer in hand. The creeper (for that was what it certainly must be) tried to roll around the pair, but Rusty would not be deterred. His hammer crashed down squarely on its skull, and it collapsed in a heap.
Just then, Sal spotted movement again, this time from the large oven. Another creature was slinking towards the archway, but this one looked nothing like the creeper. It was tall, for one thing, taller than even Pez. Like the creeper, it was clothed all in black, but on closer inspection, it almost looked…transparent. ‘A ghost?’ Sal wondered, but then the creature saw that it had attracted his attention. It raised its hand and made several odd gestures, and in an instant the room was enveloped in a rolling fog…
As Pez shook off the effects of the sonic blast, he noticed that the automaton had not moved any further. ‘Why hadn’t it used the opportunity to finish them?’
Well, he wouldn’t make the same mistake. Hefting his blade, he moved in. “Oso, cover me!”
The ranger quickly fired an arrow past the warrior’s shoulder, but it just bounced harmlessly off the creature’s armor-plated hide.
Though effectively blind, Sal’s hearing was still acute. He could hear quiet footsteps moving through the mist…towards the archway if he didn’t miss his guess.
“Rusty, follow my voice! This way!”
He rushed ahead, catching a glimpse of movement every now and then. Abruptly, his quarry was right in front of him, a bared rapier in hand, covered in some sort of dark ichor. Sal knew poison when he saw it, and he thought he might be over his head here.
In a flash, Rusty was beside him, and the dwarf quickly moved to flank the cloaked killer.
The creature struck out in a flurry with his blade, but Sal was able to stay just out of reach. While it was preoccupied, Rusty darted in and struck a heavy blow to its leg.
Sal was moving in for the kill, when he heard something behind him. He whirled just as a dagger ripped through his cloak. Another of the little creepers had snuck in through the mist…
Pez rained blow after blow down on the metal horror, and still it did not respond. Some of his strikes were doing damage, he could tell. Several pieces of metal were now on the floor, and he could see its clockwork insides beneath the plates. Then, without warning, it roared to life again, swinging its huge metal spikes at the warrior.
Pez took a hit solidly across his abdomen, knocking the wind out of him. As he struggled to regain his footing, Oso pushed past, his sword now in hand, and hacking against the creature. Pez took up his blade again, and joined the elf. It was only a matter of time before the thing collapsed into a pile of gears and springs…
Sal sidestepped a second attack from the creeper, and then with both hands, raised his sword and stabbed down between its shoulder blades, pinning it to the floor.
Its taller companion used the distraction to try and makes its escape, but again, Rusty was having none of it. He swung his hammer in a great arc, feeling a satisfying crunch as it connected with the chest of the stalker. The assassin’s rapier fell from its numb fingers as it clutched its ribs and sagged down one wall.
“So I suppose these are the creepers the skulks spoke of,” Sal mused as they gathered the corpses into the workroom. “An that one must be their leader, the stalker they mentioned. But why does he look…faded like that. He feels solid enough. Here now, what’s this?” He bent down to examine a glint of metal he saw around the stalker’s neck, and saw that it appeared to be a rectangular piece of flat steel, engraved with a glyph…one of the same glyphs they had seen on some of the gear doors!
“Do you think this could be a key?” he asked.
“Possibly,” Pez agreed, “Let’s keep moving. They’re bound to be aware of us by now.
They pressed on, looking into several more abandoned chambers…a forge here, a woodshop there. At one point a makeshift barricade of chairs, doors and tables blocked the hallway they traveled down. They elected not to pursue that route, and so retraced their steps.
The small tunnels they had followed earlier led them to a pantry, and hidden there was another of the creepers. This time they were prepared, and made quick work of the little sneak. Beyond that, they found long unused kitchens, dining halls, and even a latrine.
All the trappings of a thriving community, now lost and come to nothing.
Rusty peered into a large bathing pool, water spilling from a fresco of gnome face. Hanging menacingly above it was the web-cocooned corpse of a skulk. The dwarf reached up to knock it down with his hammer, when suddenly a spider the size of a small dog leaped from the pool, bowling him over.
“Ugh!” he cried, wrestling with the hairy beast, trying to keep it’s dripping fangs away from his neck. Two well-placed arrows from Oso’s bow silenced the threat.
“Seems it wasn’t alone,” Sal said, cleaning his blade and indicating two smaller spiders, these only cat-sized, that he and Tilly had dispatched.
Further along, they found an immense, pillared hall, which seemed to have once been some kind of grand meeting place. Eight black columns supported a high ceiling. They were carved to resemble gnome artisans and warriors standing on each other’s shoulders, bracing the vaulted roof with their collective strength. The walls were adorned with faded murals depicting gnomes in reverie…playing pipes, dancing, performing acrobatic stunts, drinking wine and so forth. The hall widened at its far end, where a large circular pool stood, enclosed by a semicircular marble wall. Another gnomish visage was carved into the wall above it, spilling murky water from its wide grin.
Four bright lights illuminated the hall from end to end. They flickered and danced like torchlight and drifted aimlessly about, changing altitude and direction on a whim.
As the companions moved down the hall’s length, they were surprised by a volley of crossbow bolts coming from behind two of the pillars. A pair of skulks crouched there, and quickly reloaded their bows as Oso and Pez charged…
“I grow tired of this,” Pez said, standing over the bodies of the skulks, “We have to find a way into the lower levels. The skulks said the prisoners were being held there.”
“Below?” Rusty asked, “Do you mean the fortress? Are you looking for the Malachite Fortress as well?”
, I have to agree with JollyDoc's characterization of my PC, it is spot on.
