Session 15 (Part Two)
Big Trouble in Shadowblade Land
Rosë found himself teetering precariously on the edge of a 10-pace deep pit that measured 3 paces by 3 paces. As the well-oiled trap door swung slowly back into place, the Brigante noted his erstwhile prisoner impaled on a forest of sharpened stakes that lined the bottom of the pit, unseeing eyes staring accusingly at him. Lew’s hand helped steady the barbarian, who slowly stepped back from the trap. Unreasoning fear sprang into the priest’s mind, ‘Pits…why does it always have to be pits!’
Drusilla wormed her way to the fore and crouched low, examining the outlines of the impediment. In the chamber beyond, a glowing brazier stood in one corner and geometric tapestries lined the walls. Two overstuffed armchairs, a divan and a pair of small tables completed a comfortable sitting room. Another double door stood opposite the one the party now crowded around. This one, however, had four ornately carved faces, arranged vertically, cascading down each side. Drusilla, noting the location of the trap, nimbly leapt into the room and flattened against a wall, sword in hand.
“Wait!” Called Rowan.
He plucked Sextus’ arm and the pair descended the stairs, hefted one of the tables and carried it awkwardly back up. They slide the table across the trap door, effectively bridging the obstacle. Everyone but Quintus crossed over into the room and began a cursory search, looking behind tapestries and under furniture. Rosë moved towards the next set of door, reaching out with a scarred hand to open them. The barbarian paused when he felt a light touch on his arm.
He turned to see Drusilla shaking her and motioning him to stand aside. He did so reluctantly as the slender girl carefully examined the intricately carved portal. Impatience caused the barbarian to fidget constantly and he was much relieved when she stepped away from the door and nodded her head. Hefting his axe, Rosë pushed the lever down on the left hand side.
Gouts of flame shot from each of the four mouths, washing over the Brigante and inflicting blistering burns! He howled in pain and frustration, beating at the remnants of the fire to extinguish it. He cast a severe glance towards Drusilla, who was regarding the smoking barbarian with a face reflecting profound embarrassment. She ducked her head and moved to the right side door, repeating her earlier actions.
After she stepped away, Rosë stood to the side, extended his great axe and pushed the lever down while shoving the door hard with the haft of his weapon. The door swung open while flame spewed from the carved mouths on that side. Unfortunately, the barbarian’s position placed him in the arc of fire and his skin blistered once again!
(DM’s Note: As most have figured out by now, Drusilla has some levels of rogue. I rolled a “1” and “2” respectively for her Search rolls on the doors! Rosë had a good idea on the second door, but failed to take into account which way the door opened…ahh, fun with traps!)
The chamber beyond the portal was lit with soft lamplight and seemed to be some manner of study. Several bookcases, each holding a dozen large tomes, lined the walls along with some richly upholstered furniture. A large statue of a regal looking man, dressed as an Emorian officer, stood in the far left corner. A pair of door were centered along the right hand wall, cut from smooth, silvery wood and unadorned.
Wary of traps, Drusilla examined the doorway, stepped lightly into the room and moved to the left wall, looking at the bookcases. Rosë followed, moving carefully towards the statue. Lew, Sextus and Rowan eased towards the doorway. Suddenly, the smooth, silvery door opened away from the party and a trio of crossbow bolts sliced through them, nicking Drusilla and Rosë. Crouched in the doorway, they saw three gray cloaks, with several more shadowy figures behind them. Mad cackling arose from one of the forms.
Quintus crouched at the bottom of the stairwell, peeking into the dining hall. The door to his left creaked and three Shadowblades emerged, crossbows readied. Behind them came a warrior clad in lorica squamata bearing a spatha and scutum. The sorcerer cursed under his breath as one of them spotted him and shouted a warning before he could pull his head from view. The sound of pounding feet rang in his ears!
The elder Scipio was prepared for this eventuality, however. He quickly read one of the scrolls obtained from Valyria (DM’s Note: The ship’s mage of the Sea Eagle) and a pulsing sphere of fire materialized, blocking the doorway. “We have company below!”
The sound of steel ringing on steel greeted his ears as he bounded back up the stairs, taking two at a time. ‘Damn,’ he cursed silently, ‘enemies on two sides!’
The sorcerer’s leg speed could not match the quickness of the bolts launched from the frustrated gray cloaks below. Two quarrels tore into Quintus just before he reached the upper landing, where the angle of the ceiling cut off his enemies’ line of fire. Gasping and reeling, he clambered over their improvised bridge and sagged against the wall, blood flowing down his back. Grimacing in pain, he summoned forth a Shield for more protection against future missiles. Sextus noted his brother’s arrival and condition with alarm and moved aid him.
A roar of challenge heralded Rosë’s descent into battle rage as he hefted his axe and prepared to charge the knot of Shadowblades just beyond the door. Rowan and Lew snapped bolt and arrow towards the trio, but angles and cover prevented any hits. Drusilla yanked out her gladius and pugio as she slid out of the archers’ view.
Rosë hadn’t even begun his charge when a new combatant dashed into the room from behind the crossbowman. The man was short, but heavily muscled and wore a strange mish-mash of armor. A helm in the Berylian style, sans horsehair crest, crowned his head. His torso was unarmored save for a broad belt reinforced by metal studs. Lorica hamata covered both arms from shoulder to wrist and a bronzed greave protected his left leg. His left hand was wrapped in leather strips lined with metal studs. He bore a strange-looking spear, 5 paces in length and topped with a curious twin-tined head.
Rowan took all of this in during the grain or two it took the man to lunge towards the Brigante, hooking Rosë’s great axe between the spear tines and twisting hard. Only the barbarian’s rage induced strength prevented his weapon from being torn from his grasp. Rosë recovered and leapt at the man, sweeping his axe around in an oblique cut. The man crouched low and angled his weapon up to catch Rosë full in the chest.
Quintus, still awash in the warmth of Sextus’ healing magic, gasped aloud as he saw a tine from the enemy warrior’s strange spear actually protruding from his companion’s back. “Go, Sextus.” He said weakly, “They will need all the help you can give them. I will hold things here!”
To Be Continued…
Next: Session 15 (Part Three) – Madness and Mayhem
~ Old One
