Shackled City Epic: "Vengeance" (story concluded)

Thanks guys, and welcome, Renfield.

This was originally intended to be the Friday cliffhanger last week, but the board outage threw off my schedule.

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Chapter 29

Arun put down his shield, and laid into the door with a mighty two-handed blow that shattered wood and echoed loudly throughout the chamber. The gnome’s familiar, still imprisoned in its cage stuck to the back of the mimic, crouched down inside its prison, covering its ears with its paws.

Even as the noise of that first impact faded, twin puffs of rancid black smoke erupted out of nowhere directly in front of the door, flanking the paladin. The smoke dissolved to reveal a pair of huge rats, with ugly, matted fur that stank of rot, sharp, jagged teeth, and eyes that were pinpricks of red flame. The fiendish rats did not hesitate, instantly leaping at the dwarf’s legs with snapping jaws.

“Blast!” Arun cursed, as the rats lunged at him. One failed to get a hold of him, but the second sank its teeth into his unprotected ankle, digging deeply as if the consecrated blood of the holy warrior further fueled its corrupted form.

Mole rushed forward and stabbed the rat with her sword, sliding the blade into its body just below the base of its skull. The rat convulsed and died, and Arun kicked it free with a spray of blood from his wounded ankle. The paladin turned toward his second foe, but before he could bring his hammer to bear an arrow from Fellian’s bow streaked into it, skewering it.

Both rats dissolved into the same greasy smoke that had heralded their arrival, leaving only an ugly black scar on the stone floor to mark that they had ever been there at all.

Ruphos came forward, drawing out the healing wand, but Arun forestalled him. “Save your magic, priest,” he said. “There’s still a job to be done here.”

No more evil rats appeared, and with Arun’s strength behind his blows the door did not long withstand his assault. Soon they were through and into another short passage beyond, culminating in another door. Beyond this one, they knew from Mole’s map, lay the lift and Furio. Mole tapped on the door, and got an answering tap in return.

“Stay back,” she shouted through the door. “We’re going to force the door.”

Once more Arun went to work, wary of another trap. No summoned rats appeared, but as the door gave way, the wooden planks clattering free of the threshold, a field of darting streams of electrical energy filled the opening, causing their skin to tingle and their hair to stand on end even several paces away. On the far side, between the intermittent sparks, they could just make out the room beyond, and Fario standing a good distance back from the obviously dangerous portal.

“Well, now what?” Ruphos asked.

Fellian took on a distant look for a moment, then he nodded, as if answering some silent question. Through the electrical field, they could see Fario moving to the back of the far chamber, returning after a moment with a hefty shape. “Get back, quick!” Fellian said, and they all retreated moments before a limp form came crashing through the opening. With a sizzle and the smell of roasted flesh the energy field discharged into the body of hobgoblin corpse, leaving only wisps of smoke rising from the body.

“Well, I hope the mimic likes his meals well-done,” Mole said, holding her nose.

* * * * *

A short while later, the companions, reunited once more, stood on the wooden lift, the creaking of the chain accompanied by the faint groaning of the wooden planks beneath them as they sank deeper into the mountain beneath Cauldron.

As they descended upon the lift, the stone of the shaft transitioned from the plain gray granite of Jzadirune to the glistering black sheet of malachite that presaged their ultimate destination. The six companions exchanged glances, their weapons at the ready, as the lift carried them deeper into the core of the mountain. Fario, having lost his bow in the acid pit, had taken one of the hobgoblin javelins as a temporary replacement.

Mole carried Starbrow, Keygan Ghelve’s familiar, which the mimic had handed over per the terms of their deal. The rat had made itself comfortable in her pack, occasionally sticking its head out through a gap in the cover flap to see what was going on. The others paid the creature no heed.

A door appeared, recessed into the south wall, and moments later the lift came to a halt. Above them the shaft rose up as high as they could see, the thick chain that supported the lift the only tenuous connection between them and the bright world above.

Arun was already walking to the door even before the lift had fully stopped. He glanced over his shoulder at the others. “Ready?”

Without waiting for a response, he opened the door.

Beyond the portal, which thankfully was of the familiar, non-trapped variety, they found themselves in a long hall, at least sixty feet in length. A pair of empty iron cages were suspended from the ceiling at opposite ends of the hall, dangling a good seven feet above the level of the floor. In the center of the room stood an unusually fashioned pedestal, an irregular construct that looked to be a misshapen lump of rough-hewn stone. Jutting from the pedestal were four jutting arms of stone, topped by crystalline points, pointing in the four main directions of the compass. The only other obvious exit was a door down toward the end of the hall in the east wall, near the second cage.

Warily the companions entered the room.

“I don’t like the look of that pillar,” Mole said, pointing at the squat stone column. Arun frowned, but didn’t say anything.

“We’ll check it out,” Fario said, gesturing to Fellian. The two half-elves started forward, but before they could draw near to the thing, Zenna lifted her crossbow and fired. The bolt hit the column squarely, the steel head shattering against the stone, the wooden shaft snapping and falling to the ground a short distance away. The adventurers all turned and looked at Zenna in surprise.

“Why did you do that?” Ruphos asked.

His question was answered before Zenna could reply. The pillar shook, looking for a moment like it might crumble into pieces, but only for a second as it lurched into movement, lumbering forward awkwardly but inevitably toward them.

The half-elves shared a momentary look, then quickly launched their assault upon the strange creature. Fellian drew and fired in a single smooth motion, though his arrow, like Zenna’s, seemed to have no effect against the hard stone skin of the thing. Fario hurled his javelin, but the missile proved equally useless, glancing off of its armored skin.

“How are we supposed to hurt that?” Mole exclaimed, but Fario, heedless of the inefficacy of their initial attacks, drew his two swords with a practiced skill and charged toward the creature’s flank.

Even as he started ahead, the others were joining the attack. A shot from Mole’s crossbow struck truer than the others, hitting just below one of the spiky appendages that jutted from the creature’s torso and sending a fist-sized chunk of stone flying from its body. And a throwing hammer hit it a glancing blow just a heartbeat later, followed by the charging form of the dwarf as he rushed straight at it, drawing his warhammer out as he ran. Behind them came Ruphos, holding his mace with a dubious expression, as if doubting what their weapons could do against an adversary apparently fashioned from solid stone.

But those doubts did not stop them from attacking the creature, as it lumbered forward to meet them. Fario dodged its first clumsy but powerful swipe, and laid into it with his blades. His longsword struck a glancing blow that chipped away a few small pieces of stone, but his shortsword had no effect against its tough hide.

From the opposite side of the creature, Arun laid into the thing with his hammer, the full force of his charge behind his assault. His first stroke was errant, however, a powerful but misaimed blow that only glanced harmlessly off of the creature’s “head”. With a stream of curses in dwarven, the paladin recovered and continued with another attack.

A volley of missiles from the other adventurers streamed at the stone spike, but the extra caution needed to avoid hitting their comrades in melee cost them in terms of accuracy. Only Mole’s shot actually hit the creature, failing to penetrate its hide, while the shots from Zenna and Fellian narrowly missed and caromed down the length of the hall into darkness.

Ruphos, his mace in one hand and his torch in the other, circled the melee, trying to find an opening.

The creature was not idle as these attacks landed upon its stony frame. For some reason it seemed to draw back somewhat from Arun, causing another potent hammerstroke to sheer off stone instead of hitting with crushing force. But it did not restrain itself from assaulting Fario with violent force. The nimble half-elf dodged the first spinning arm, but the creature abruptly reversed direction and drove a second into his side, impaling him upon the crystalline spike that tipped that appendage. Fario let out a gasp of pain and staggered back, somehow managing to keep standing even as blood poured from his side from the vicious wound.

Ruphos and Fellian were both moving quickly to help the injured Fario, but before they could reach him, the attention of the party was drawn to the door in the rear of the hall, as it swung ponderously open. A hulking figure trudged into the room, and the blocks of black stone that formed the floor seemed to tremble at its coming. It had the shape of a man, but stood over seven feet tall, its visage was ferocious and bestial, and its arms and legs were the size of tree trunks. It was clad in a fur garment that hung in tatters about it, and caked filth covered its body like a second skin. A falchion of huge proportions hung almost forgotten from one fat fist.

“Wait your turn!” Arun shouted at the newcomer. “We’re not done with this one yet!” He poked out at the stone spike with his hammer, not enough to hurt it, but trying to draw its attention away from the seriously injured half-elf.

The ogre regarded them all with a hard look. “More carrion for my larder. Very nice.”

It started toward the melee.


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Note: allowed another level-up as the group transitioned from Jzadirune to the Malachite Fortress; heading off to update Rogues' Gallery now.

Stone Spike

Post-A-Day Week continues!

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Chapter 30

Facing a deadly new foe in addition to the already dangerous one that they currently faced, the companions hastened to defend themselves.

The archers shifted their fire to the oncoming ogre as it lumbered down the hall toward them. Fellian, who’d been circling the raging melee with the stone spike to get to Fario, turned reluctantly from his stricken friend and fired a shaft from his shortbow down the length of the hall. The arrow hit, sticking in the rotten furs that covered its mangy hide, but it did not appear to phase the beast in the slightest as it picked up speed, running toward them. Zenna’s shot missed entirely, while Mole cursed as her bow misfired, the string jamming the bolt into the mechanism.

Arun slammed the stone spike again, yet once more his hammer failed to do more than jar the creature. He did finally get its attention, though, and the spike shifted toward him, its arms stabbing out toward him. On the far side of the melee, the wounded Fario, refusing to retreat, used that opening to attack the creature once more. Realizing that his twin-sword attacks had little chance of penetrating, he dropped his shortsword, and with both hands on the hilt of his longsword, drove the weapon with the full force he could muster into the body of the monster. The sword rang as it struck the thing’s stone skin, but after a moment of resistance it slid up to the length of its hilt into the elemental’s body. The stone spike quivered, a single plaintive sound issuing from deep within its frame, and then collapsed into a heap of rubble.

Even as their first foe fell, however, the ogre rushed to join the battle against the hard-pressed pair. Arun let out a deep growl that rumbled from his chest like a boulder rolling down a steep slope. He charged the ogre, his hammer raised high to smite the foul creature. Fario, heedless of his own serious wounds, was just an instant behind him, just as eager to strike down this latest adversary. Behind him, Ruphos held his healing wand and bit his lip in frustration as the injured warrior charged out of his reach.

But the ogre seemed just as eager to meet its attackers, and as Arun charged it raised its falchion and brought the heavy weapon down in an inevitable downward arc toward the dwarf’s head. However, the dwarf, was, like all of his race, used to dealing with foes bigger and stronger than himself. As the ogre slashed downward Arun hurled himself to the side, catching the powerful stroke on his heavy shield and deflecting it harmlessly aside. The dwarf’s momentum carried him forward, and as he passed by the hulking ogre he slammed his hammer into its side with powerful force. The blow would have laid a hobgoblin soldier out on his back, gasping out the last moments of its life, but the ogre merely smiled down at him, fat gobs of slobber dripping from the uneven gaps in its ugly black teeth.

Fario rushed in from the far side of the creature, stabbing with his sword into the ogre’s torso. His longsword cut through the ragged furs that covered its body, but the flesh underneath was tougher than boiled leather, and his thrust failed to penetrate. Fellian, shooting over the darting form of his friend, shot another arrow high into the ogre’s chest, but like his first shot, it seemed to have little effect upon the massive creature.

Back on the far side of the hall, Mole yanked the jammed bolt out of her bow, but cursed as one end of the bowstring popped off of its mounting. In frustration she threw down the bow, drew her sword, and rushed forward. Zenna, who’d just finished reloading her own bow, saw her and cried out, “No, Mole!” But she too, ultimately, followed, moving around the body of the destroyed stone spike to line up a clear shot at the ogre.

“So, you’re a tough one, eh?” Arun said, bringing his hammer around for another swing. The ogre moved faster this time, however, and it brought its falchion around in a low sweep that the dwarf couldn’t dodge. He grunted in pain as heavy blade caught him in the side, the force of its impact only partially stopped by the metal scales that covered his torso. Even as the blade dug into his muscled torso his training and experience kicked in, and he spun with the blow and returned to a slightly wobbly defensive stance. The ogre chuckled and brought the blade up once more as it finished its follow-through, the arc of the falchion leaving a spattering of the paladin’s blood behind it on the stone floor of the hall.

Ruphos rushed boldly forward, though his destination was not the ogre, but rather the injured Fario. He lifted the healing wand, a blue glow already forming around its head, and darted in with it thrust like a dagger to impart its magic to his stricken companion. Fario, his attentions taken up by the desperate struggle with the ogre, did not notice the cleric coming up behind him, but the ogre, turning from its powerful hit on the dwarf, did see him.

The two lunged at the half-elf as one, the falchion pounding through the swordsman’s guard, batting his parry aside before digging a cruel gash in his exposed shoulder. But for the half-elf’s quick dodge back, it would have been a lot worse, perhaps taking his head as well. Even so, with the loss of blood from his other injury, Fario staggered and crumpled. Even as he fell, the healing energies from Ruphos’s wand closed his wounds and stabilized him, but that power was not enough to bring the crippled warrior back to consciousness.

All too aware of the massive adversary standing over them, Ruphos dropped his mace and his torch, grabbed onto the half-elf by his shoulders, and dragged him back out of the melee.

Unfortunately, he underestimated the ogre’s reach.

“Ruphos, look out!” Mole cried, seeing what the cleric, intent on his task, hadn’t.

The falchion clipped him lightly on the arm, almost a light brush at the fullest extent of the ogre’s reach. That light contact, however, was from a steel edge backed by the considerable force of the ogre’s mass, and the steel tore through the cleric’s mail links covering the upper part of his bicep, slicing neatly through the flesh underneath. Ruphos cried out and fell over Fario’s limp form, clutching at the wound that was pouring a runnel of hot blood down the length of his arm.

But after a moment he grimaced, pulling himself back up and grabbing hold of Fario once more with his good arm. Gritting his teeth against the pain, he pulled the unconscious fighter to safety.

The ogre took a step forward as if to pursue, ignoring the dwarf behind him as Arun landed yet another ineffectual blow on his fat, flabby torso. The stream of dwarven profanities continued apace, but the ogre ignored that too, lumbering after its retreating victims.

It drew up short, however, as Fellian leapt into the breach, his bow discarded and now replaced by his drawn longsword. The ogre slashed down at him as he rushed in, but the half-elf leapt forward into a roll that carried him under the path of the stroke. The edge of the falchion struck sparks on the hard black stone of the floor even as Fellian rolled back to his feet and thrust at the ogre’s body with his sword. Unfortunately, he found the ogre’s unnaturally tough hide as tough as his companions had, and the blow failed to penetrate.

The ogre lifted its weapon to strike this new foe down, but turned as a shrill voice drew its attention to the side.

“Hey, ugly! Sheesh, do you, like, bathe in your own filth, or what?”

“I cut you in half, little girl, then I bathe in your blood,” the ogre said, slicing down at Mole as the gnome darted in from the flank. But Mole was quicker, easily avoiding the clumsy backstroke and dashing in to stab her sword into the monster’s hairy leg. The blade sank only half its length into the thick limb, but it was quite clear from the ogre’s reaction that it felt that attack.

“I crush you!” it shouted, rearing up before slamming the injured leg down on the gnome rogue. She wasn’t there when the limb hit, however, having rolled out of the way, and as its foot slammed heavily into the ground, a new look of pain crossed the ogre’s features.

“I see your brains are as defective as your sense of smell,” piped the gnome’s voice from below.

“Blast you blasted giant, go down!” roared Arun, attacking once more as the frustrated dwarf threw all caution aside and virtually hurled himself at the ogre. His hammer came up into its gut, but as the ogre spun around, still trying to find out where Mole had gone, it only smacked loudly but ineffectually against its fat belly. Almost carelessly it dropped one fat fist from the hilt of its falchion, and punched the dwarf in the face. Arun staggered drunkenly back, his head ringing from the force of the blow, but within moments his eyes cleared, and his expression became one of unadulterated fury.

“Oh, I’ll do you for that,” he said. Shrugging off his shield, he hefted his hammer with both hands, and with a dwarven battlecry rushed back into the fray.

But the ogre was already in trouble, confounded by the efforts of the two rogues that faced it. Fellian and Mole worked together without the need for open conversation, flanking the massive brute. Mole continued to taunt it, and luck was with her as the ogre missed with yet another potent but clumsy swing. That gave Fellian an opening; even though the half-elf lacked Fario’s strength and skill of arms, he was able to work his sword into a crease in the ogre’s bulbous torso and dig a nasty cut that spilled forth hot red blood across the black stone floor. The ogre, stung by that attack, turned to smite the half-elf, a foolish decision given the proven threat of Mole. The gnome wasn’t a warrior, and she barely came up to the ogre’s knee, but she leapt up and sank the entire length of her small sword into the back of the monster’s thigh.

It was already going down when Arun leapt up and bashed its skull in with a two-handed smite from his hammer.

“Eww,” Mole said, making a face as she gingerly tried to recover her sword from the dead ogre’s leg. The weapon was slick from the blood of the monster, and she needed Arun’s help to finally drag it free.

Zenna had gone to help Ruphos and Fario during the final moments of the battle, but the cleric had recovered enough to heal both himself and the half-elf fighter with his healing wand. Fellian drew out a scroll and went to help Arun, but drew back as the paladin threw down his hammer in disgust and walked away.

“What’s the matter?” Zenna asked. Mole had gone to recover her crossbow, but she paused to kick through the remnants of the stone spike, verifying that some precious item hadn’t been secreted on the body of the elemental thing.

“Blasted thing’s cursed!” the dwarf spat. “Couldn’t hit that blasted bastard for bloody blasted squat! Baargh!”

Fellian strode up, still holding the scroll. “That was no ordinary ogre,” he said. “I don’t know what manner of thing it was, but its skin was... unnaturally resilient, and it shrugged off hits that should have slain two such beasts. It is no failure to admit difficulty in fighting such a thing.”

The dwarf met the half-elf’s look with a square gaze. Finally he said, “Bah!” and went to recover his hammer. He grumbled something not quite clearly audible, but what sounded like a threat directed at the weapon should it continue in its failure to perform. He let Fellian cast his spells of healing from his scroll, restoring much of the damage he’d suffered at the hands of the ogre.

With the elemental creature and the ogre both slain, the companions recovered the rest of their weapons and searched the rest of the hall. Fario spotted another secret door on the far end of the hall from where they had entered, but they let it be for the moment. The ogre smelled even worse in death than it had in life, so after a cursory examination to verify that it wasn’t carrying anything of value, they gave the corpse a wide berth. Mole did find an iron key on a throng stuck through its belt, so she kept that.

They looked into the chamber from which the ogre had emerged, but didn’t get any further than the door. The stench that roiled from beyond was an almost palpable thing, like a cloud that hung in the air and poured into their lungs with eager tendrils on every breath. The chamber beyond the door was a rectangular space perhaps twenty feet across and thirty feet wide, and every square foot of floor space, every corner, was jammed with refuse. It covered the floor, rising and falling in heaps like waves, forming mounds as high as a few feet in places. Mole, possessed of perhaps the most sensitive nose of all of them, staggered back, looking ill, but through it she still managed to point to a particular heap of filth on the far side of the room to their left.

“Ith that a cheth?” she asked, holding her nose.

Fellian peered at the indicated site. “Perhaps, it looks like some sort of rectangular object, under all that muck,” he said. “I’m not going in there to see, though... feel free, if you wish.”

Mole looked hopefully up at Ruphos, but the cleric shook his head. “We’re not here for that,” he told her. “We have to find the children.”

“Well, drat,” Mole said. But she still managed to look relieved when Fario pushed the heavy door shut.

With that, they turned to the secret door.

Ah, finally we come to the portion where our groups parted ways.

My team had taken a beating in Jzadirune and didn't feel like dying. Of course, they also explored every single room and passageway (and eventually found all the keys).

Believe it or not... they actually NEGOTIATED their way through the rest of the adventure, including the bidding to get back the children. Well, after an initial misunderstanding that resulted in the deaths of several hobgoblins and a certain enchanted "pet" of the half-dwarf...

Whoever thought that hack'n'slashers like mine would NEGOTIATE? What's the world coming to...?

One reason I keep coming back is the way you describe your battles! Hopefully, with enough exposure, I'll learn to write them just as well.

Great fight against the ogre.

Chapter 31

The door, a foot-thick, rectangular panel set into the black stone of the wall, opened easily at Fario’s nimble touch. Light and smoke spilled out over them, as they looked into the space beyond.

It was a chamber of considerable size, a square room perhaps forty feet on a side. The ceiling was a vaulted dome that rose up a good twenty feet or more above them. Directly under the apex of that dome, in the center of the room, stood an imposing nine foot statue of a dwarf warrior. Carved of black malachite, that stern-faced figure faced toward them, clad in armor and holding a double-bladed battleaxe haft-up with its blades touching the floor at its feet. Someone had draped a tangled mass of chains over the top of the statute, wrapped in numerous loops around its neck, torso, and arms.

In each of the four corners of the room rested a free-standing stone brazier of unusual make. Carved into the form of a xorn, those three-armed denizens of the Elemental Plane of Stone, each was topped by a mouth full of brightly glowing coals that issued a faint but constant stream of smoke into the chamber. Double doors were situated in the center of the walls to their left and right, the ones to the right secured with a heavy iron bar.

Although the wisps of stray smoke partially obscured the chamber, it was instantly obvious that the place was occupied. Standing by each set of doors stood a pair of heavily armored hobgoblin warriors, who spotted the companions almost immediately after the door opened. Drawing their swords, they rushed to attack.

Fario leaned forward, but before he could enter the room Arun pushed roughly past him, unapologetically placing himself a few paces on the far side of the door, shield and hammer prepared to meet the enemy charge. The elves were quick to follow, and as they entered, one of the hobgoblins barked a command, and one of the four broke off and ran toward the double doors to the south.

He almost made it before Fellian’s arrow slammed into his back. The hobgoblin staggered forward, falling to his knees directly before the portal. For a moment he clung to consciousness, and even managed to drag himself to his feet, clutching the handle of the door. Then a bolt from Mole’s crossbow caught him in the side, and he crumpled.

Arun met the hobgoblin charge with a clang and clatter of metal on metal. The first sword stroke he took on his shield, and the second glanced off of an armored shoulder, but the third got within his guard and drew a line of red across his upper bicep. The hobgoblins fought well together, moving to flank the dwarf, but Fario’s quick arrival helped even the odds. Their initial counters were met by expert parries or were deflected by the heavy layers of banded armor worn by the hobgoblins, but they in turn were confounded by Arun’s heavy shield and Fario’s quick dodges.

But then the rest of the companions joined the battle, and the tide quickly turned. Fellian rushed in to flank Fario’s opponent, and caught between the two half-elves the hobgoblin was quickly dispatched. Arun’s two foes had caught him in a flanking move, but one found himself flanked in turn as Mole darted in behind him, her sword flashing at its legs. The hobgoblin was sufficiently aware to dodge that new attack, but the distraction was enough for Arun to bring his hammer up in a powerful smash that connected decisively with the side of its head.

The last hobgoblin gave ground in a fighting retreat, trying to make for the southern doors where its comrade already lay dead. As it retreated, Zenna shot at it with her crossbow, but her shot was deflected away by its armor. That protection could not, however, save it from the half-elves, who, unencumbered by such heavy garb, moved quickly to block its escape. The hobgoblin threw itself at Fario, trying to at least take one foe with it, but was run through by Fellian before it could land a blow.

Quiet returned to the chamber as the last hobgoblin crumpled. Fario and Fellian were quick to verify that each of their enemies was truly slain, finishing the task with a quick thrust when necessary. Meanwhile, Arun crossed to the unbarred double doors to the south, dragging the body of the dead hobgoblin there out of the way and watching just in case the noise of the brief fracas had drawn the attention of more guards.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if there’s more of them beyond those doors, since they were so keen on getting there,” Ruphos said.

“The leader ordered that one to get reinforcements,” Zenna confirmed, glancing at the statue briefly as she moved to where the others were gathering near the southern doors. Mole, however, lagged behind, her attention more fully drawn by the huge stone figure of the dwarf hero.

“You speak hobgoblin?” Ruphos asked in surprise.

“Goblinoid, actually,” Zenna replied. “The tongue is shared by goblins, hobgoblins, bugbears, and a few other races of similar bloodline. It was a useful tongue to know, where I was from.”

Ruphos’s expression showed that he was curious, and might have welcomed more explanation, but Zenna abruptly turned away, deliberately focusing her attention elsewhere—on the barred doors to the north, on the strange braziers in the corners, on the vaulted ceiling high above—anywhere but on the cleric.

Mole’s voice drew their attention back to the center of the room. “Those are gemstones, I think—the statue’s eyes, look!” Even as she finished, she’d already shrugged out of her backpack, placing it and her crossbow in a neat pile on the ground, and was heading for the base of the construct.

“Mole, just leave it be,” Zenna said, with a hint of exasperation in her voice. “We’re not here for that... look, watch out for those chains...” With her sharp vision, she could clearly make out the jagged hooks and sharp blades hooked in and among the links of the mess of chains that covered much of the upper half of the statue.

“Bah, I can climb around them,” she said, and in fact she was already halfway up the statue, working her way up the haft of its massive stone axe before grasping onto its forearms, careful to avoid the enfolding links of chain and the sharp cargoes attached to them. Arun, engaged in quiet conversation with the half-elves by the door, shot them an impatient look, but did not move to interfere.

“Mole, I don’t think you should do that,” Ruphos said tentatively. “I’ve got a bad feeling...”

“You worry too much,” she shot back, having reached a point well up atop the statue’s chest, her attention now on its face. Its eyes were shining orbs of pure black, the face of the gnome girl reflected in their depths in the smoky light from the braziers. Her dagger popped into her hand from its hidden sheath in her boot, and she leaned forward, a focused look on her face.

“Mole, look out!” Zenna screamed, a moment before the gnome cried out in pain and surprise. The mass of chains had shifted slightly, and with only that subtle warning, a strand of links untwined from on of the statue’s fat arms and shot out at Mole. The gnome, intent on her prize, had not noticed the telltale motion that Zenna had seen, so she could not react as the length of chain slammed into her back. The barbs and hooks attached to the link dug into the chain links of her armor shirt, and her dagger fell from her grip as she slipped from her perch, falling end over end to clatter noisily against the stone floor eight feet below. The rogue would have followed a moment later, but even as she started to fall, another length of chain shot out from around the back of the statue, whipping around her torso and dragging her roughly against the hard stone. The mass of chains was now alive with movement, and new strands of hooked and bladed links were continuing to work themselves free while the bulk of it remained firmly anchored to the top half of the statue.

“Ow! Help, it’s got me... aaaaaaahhhhh!”

Mole screamed again as the chains wrapped around her body tightened their grip, the sharp hooks and barbs piercing her clothes and digging into her flesh. She tried to reach for her sword, but couldn’t get to it through the terrible strands that pinned her body against the statue. Looking down, she saw Zenna and the others, concern for her written in fear across their faces, rushing toward the statue, but then there was only the pain. Twisting helpless in the firm grasp of the chains, she caught a glimpse of the face of the statue, looking down at her from above, and to her it seemed to be laughing at her, berating her for the foolishness that had gotten her into this mess.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she sobbed, and then the pain claimed her.

Wow.

Nice update, LB. Interesting to see how Mole and the gang get out of this one -- that chain is one NASTY customer.

wolff96 said:

Wow.

Nice update, LB. Interesting to see how Mole and the gang get out of this one -- that chain is one NASTY customer.

Click to expand...

Indeed. In fact, I could have easily changed a few rolls here and there and had multiple casualties. As it was...

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Chapter 32

“Mole!” Zenna cried again, feeling something wrench deep inside of her as she watched the animated chain-creature wrap around her friend, crushing and tearing her diminutive form.

The companions leapt into action with Zenna’s first shout of warning. Ruphos ran forward and leapt up atop the statue’s base, trying to reach the trapped gnome, but staggered as one of the strands of chain whipped out across his face. Blood erupted into the air as the jagged edges caught and tore the flesh across his jaw, and he fell back, dazed from the force of the impact. The young cleric, however, shook his head and with determination in his blood-streaked face he hefted his mace and waded in again. He smashed at the creature, but only struck sparks as his blow glanced off the links and smashed against the black malachite of the statue’s chest.

The half-elves were quick to act, charging together toward the statue, spreading out to come at it from both sides. Fellian fired an arrow, careful to avoid targeting any part of the thing near Mole, and while the steel arrowhead slammed full-force into a link of chain, shattering it, the rest of the creature seemed barely affected. Fario dodged a slashing strand of chain and hacked at it with his sword after it shot past. The result of his efforts was merely a notch on his masterwork blade, and he quite nearly lost his grip on the weapon.

Arun did not hesitate, rushing straight for the statue. The mass of chains had dragged Mole up near the head of the statue, out of the easy reach of the adventurers. The gnome’s struggles grew fainter as they watched, which seemed to drive the dwarf even more strongly into action. As he ran he shrugged off his heavy shield, which clattered noisily to the floor, and hefted his hammer in both hands. With a cry to his stern god he leapt up and slammed the hammer two-handed square into the densest part of the mass of chains that he could reach. The entire network quivered with the force of the impact, and the statue itself seemed to shake. Mole let out a piteous moan as the chain-creature seemed to tighten its grip in retaliation, but the trapped girl fell limp, slipping into the grasp of unconsciousness.

Zenna rushed at the statue, frustration written clearly on her face, but Ruphos caught hold of her and drew her roughly back. “No, Zenna!”

“It’s killing her!” she cried.

“You won’t help her by joining her!” Ruphos shouted roughly, pushing her back before turning to rush back into the fray. Fellian had advanced to just outside the chain-thing’s reach, and fired another arrow into its form, shattering another link of chain with a direct hit. Fario continued his assault from the far side of the statue, although his longsword wasn’t well-suited to harming such a creature. The mass of chains had drawn itself up higher around the bulk of the statue, wrapped around its neck and barrel chest, clutching Mole like a child holding to a prized toy.

A visceral growl built in Arun’s chest. A chain lashed across his arm, trying to grab hold of his hammer. He dropped the weapon before the chain could grab hold, and hurled himself forward at the statue. Another chain lashed him like a whip across the back and shoulders, but he shrugged off the pain of the impact. The dwarf hurled himself up with a surprising burst of strength and speed, and while he could not reach anywhere near Mole, he dug his hands into the mass of the construct. Ignoring the pain as sharp points tore into his thick hands, he pulled himself up bodily, planted his feet against the stone shield slung across the back of the statue, and pulled.

The animated mass of chains lashed out with a terrible and chaotic frenzy. A stray length caught Arun in the face, drawing a vicious gash across his forehead that trailed blood down in multiple streams through his eyes and into his beard. But the dwarf maintained his grip, his face tightening with the effort as his thick arms and legs strained with all of his strength against the metal links of the construct. On the other side of the statue, Fellian and Ruphos both attacked, the cleric sundering one of the chains anchoring the creature with a solid blow from his mace.

With a suddenness that caught them all off guard the chains suddenly gave way, the entire mass tumbling down upon the dwarf as both plummeted to the ground. Fario was there in an instant, ready to strike, but the chains had stopped moving, their animating force sundered by the damage wrought upon it. Zenna and Ruphos arrived just a heartbeat later, both quickly digging through the mess of links and hooks and sharp edges to try and free the small figure trapped in their embrace.

Mole wasn’t moving, and her body was a mess of cuts and punctures, the hooks digging into her flesh, the chains drawn tight against her body in a fatal embrace. Tears fell down Zenna’s face in a torrent as she pulled her friend free, heedless of the cuts to her own hands in the process.

“Mole, don’t,” she cried. “Don’t leave me, please...”

Ruphos had drawn out his wand, and as the tiefling pulled her friend into her embrace he activated its power, pouring healing energy into the ravaged body of the gnome girl. But she did not stir.

Fario helped Arun to his feet, the dwarf barely standing himself in the face of the battering he’d taken. The dwarf joined the others, standing around the kneeling woman and the friend she clutched to her.

“Is she...” Fario asked, unable to put it into words.

“Damn it!” Ruphos cursed, pouring more healing energy from the wand into the stricken rogue. But the girl remained limp, unmoving...

And then, her body trembled, and Mole stirred, gasping as she drank in a deep draught of air that turned into a wracking cough. Her eyes opened, blinking in confusion and the lingering memory of pain.

“Oh gods, that hurt,” she said weakly.

“Oh, Mole,” Zenna said, wiping the tears from her face.

“Thanks, guys,” she said, looking up at all of them, and the smiles that accompanied the multiple sighs of relief that came from the circle of her companions.

* * * * *


I must be getting soft, ending a week with a feel-good close shave rather than a nasty cliffhanger. I'm off to Portland for an extended-weekend mini-vacation; back on Tuesday. Have a great weekend, readers!

Lazybones said:

I must be getting soft, ending a week with a feel-good close shave rather than a nasty cliffhanger. I'm off to Portland for an extended-weekend mini-vacation; back on Tuesday. Have a great weekend, readers!

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You must be. No giving us anxiety about the fate of our heroes over the weekend?

BTW...how exactly did Arun destroy/take down the chain "golem"?

Broccli_Head said:

BTW...how exactly did Arun destroy/take down the chain "golem"?

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Well, he was mostly trying to get the creature down to get to Mole before it killed her... Rules-wise, I'd say that the others did most of the damage (note how it didn't give way until Ruphos broke one of the chains wrapped around the statue), he just grappled it and pulled it down with a successful opposed strength check (if I were DMing it, I'd perhaps allow a player who tried to do this a Break check to do regular damage to the construct with his grapple). If it hadn't already been down to just a few hp when Arun "broke" it, things might have still gotten ugly with Mole deep in negative (I'd say she was at -9 when the others stabilized her) and Arun down to single-digit hit points from the two full hits and the minor gashes he took when he grappled.