Agents of Chaos (Final Update!)

[the Jester]

Dragons!! Or-?

There's a blur of motion as the dragons bite, claw, slap their wings, whip their tails. Alcar is pounded again and again. The rest of the party rushes in to aid him, striking at the creatures. It's Horbin who first notices the bolts that hold them together, and the fact that they're made of parts of multiple creatures held together. Dexter! he thinks. They're some sort of golems!

Alcar staggers back and concentrates on the Light. Blood is flowing freely from a dozen wounds, he can feel multiple broken ribs, something out of place in his chest... and then he heals himself, invoking the power of Galador to bring himself back to his full health. Even as he does so, a wing buffets him and one of the dragon-golems tears at him with unrelenting fury. Alcar cries out in pain, staggering further back. Sheva, Angel and Horbin land blow after blow on the monstrous creatures, but they don't even slow down. Alcar is driven to his knees and only the power of his god preserves him; once again he fully heals himself, and once again the creatures drive him back, snapping at him, slashing with their vicious claws, beating him with their tails.

Horbin steps in to heal him, and then Alcar seizes the chance he's got to attack. "Rahhh!" he cries, swinging his mace in a terrible underhand blow at one of the drolems' face. He shatters its teeth and snout, and it falters. The angel screams in rage again, and brings the mace down on the rest of the head. With a terrible snapping sound, the head comes loose and flies across the room. The monster's body slowly topples over sideways, crashing to the floor.

The other one smashes into him, tearing at Alcar's belly. Blood splatters as it rends his stomach, smashes his face with its beating wings. Angel throws himself at it to try to grapple it, but it shrugs him off. And then Sheva steps in, moving almost into its chest, and slashes at it with the death knight's greatsword. Blow after blow flashes into the monster from her, her red hair flying about her as she springs from one point to another. A final strike just below the shoulder and she nearly cuts it in two, and it stumbles to a halt with a final roar.

Panting, the group exchanges glances.

"Well," says Sheva, "this certainly is the right group for this kind of stuff. We're virtually a party of clerics."

They begin healing Alcar. Nobody sees the slender bald figure slinking through the shadows towards them.





Next Time: Who- or what- is the slender bald shadow? Didn't I say something about mind flayers? Stay tuned!

 

[the Jester]

Posted the stats for the death knight the pcs fought in the Rogues' Gallery thread (stay out, my players!)

 

[the Jester]

Norman from Borman

How long has it been since he came into this cursed mountain with his friends? How long since the tentacles writhing in the dark claimed them all? How long since his mind was his own?

And where are his friends? What's happened to them all?

A few short hours ago, Norman came to his senses. Something was happening, something that caused the iron will that gripped his mind to loosen its grasp, at least long enough for him to slip away from them- the glistening monsters. He can't remember what he's been doing here, or for how long. He doesn't know where his friends are. He doesn't know anything about what's happened to him.

He's hungry, cold, tired; his head has been shaved and powdered and perfumed. He doesn't remember much of anything- except a dull pleasure at the idea of serving the creatures that held him prisoner. Now it seems like madness, but he was ready to offer himself up- to allow them to... to...

He can't think about it. Is... that what happened to the rest of his band of adventurers?

Norman from Borman has never seen things like this before- strange, tentacle-faced creatures with moist slime dripping from them, with lamprey-mouths and huge, lidless eyes. They stand upright like men, but they are no men. He shudders as he eases down the stairwell, its steps covered with salt, towards what he hopes is freedom- then freezes as the guardians at the bottom come into view. They're some sort of monstrous agglomeration of leeches. He shudders, both from the cold and the horror. He can imagine them sucking him dry of blood in a few short moments... There's only a crack leading out of the chamber, and it's through that crack that he must sneak.

Norman moves slowly, stealthily. He tries his best to make absolutely no noise, to kick no pebbles. He slowly inches through the crack, seemingly undetected. But what if the masters- no, his former captors- notice he's gone?? What if they come for him?? He can't stand up to them, especially not alone! He has to get out of this horrible stinking mountain!

He has to force himself not to run, but running would give him away- and then, as he eases out of the gap, he finds himself standing above a small drop into a pool of bile. Taking a deep breath, he climbs along the wall above it, trying desperately to avoid the frothy yellow fluid. Soon there's a dry hall he can drop onto, and he does, then continues moving stealthily down the hall. He comes to a four-way intersection and pauses to listen, smell for fresh air, look for a way out. There's no light here, and his vision- somehow enhanced by the masters (no, his captors)- is fading. He almost panics as he realizes that he soon won't be able to see at all!

Then he realizes there's a flicker of light coming from ahead, and voices:

"...the L makes a habit of killing people and then taking their stuff," comes the first, a male voice, probably human or half-elven.

"You shouldn't kill things needlessly," a feminine voice, strangely metallic, responds, and a few others join in a confusing rumble of conversation.

Norman shudders, realizing that he hasn't heard a voice in- how long? He doesn't know.

Slowly, he inches forward, praying that these people can help him, that they're adventurers- that they can take him out of this gods-forsaken place!





Next Time: The party meets both Norman and another (apparent) potential ally! Can they use diplomacy to defeat a ghost? What about the leech-things? Will they ascend the salty stairs? Will they meet Norman's former masters? Will they end up with shaved and perfumed heads? And what was in jail here anyway?? Find out soon!

 

[Welverin]

Finally got all caught up, good show!

 

[the Jester]

Finally got all caught up, good show!

I'm glad you're enjoying it. Just wait... things get crazy not too far ahead, when the pcs start trying to kill each other (or at least some of them do)!

 

[the Jester]

Norman and Slouthus

"Are you adventurers?"

A halfling steps out of the shadows. He's got daggers in his hands with elegantly carved hilts. His head is shaved and smells faintly sweet; it looks oiled. His eyes are sunken in his face and there's a look of such deep horror on him that our heroes are struck dumb by it for a moment. Then, Lester replies, "Yes we are! Who are you?"

"You've gotta help me get out of here," Norman squeaks. "There are horrible things up there! Horrible! Ahhh!!!"

"What is it, what was done to you?" Horbin asks. "Are you injured?"

Norman shudders. "Not physically. They- horrible tentacle things! Ahhh! I... I don't really want to talk about it..."

"Well, sure we'll help you," Angel says, extending his greedy hand. The halfling looks at it for a moment.

"I have nothing to give you," he says in a quiet voice.

"No, it's okay," Lester interrupts. "We'll help you, but you have to help us. Tell us what we're up against."

"Yes, what can you tell us?" comes the metallic voice Norman heard earlier. It is the voice of Lester's sword, Felix Optima Maxima.

"And what's your name?" adds Orbius.

"My name's Norman from Borman," says the halfling. "I'm an adventurer. My group came in here... and... they captured us. The tentacle creatures." He shudders again. "I think my companions are probably dead- or worse. They kept me as a slave for... I don't know how long."

"Where are they?" Angel's interest is piqued. He fought an illithid once before, when he was still a woman. Before he was the Angel of Fire.

"They're on the next level up. That's where I escaped from." Norman gestures down a hallway. "But it's guarded by some sort of leech creatures."

The party huddles together to discuss strategy, leaving the strange halfling out of it for now. "We should go kill the mind flayers," Angel says.

"We might not really want to fight a bunch of mind flayers," Zeebo says. "That could be a very dangerous fight."

"Why don't we explore this level a little first?" suggests Grumpy, his tail twitching. "We really don't want a bunch of stuff coming in behind us and cutting off our retreat."

"Another good point," says Horbin.

Thus decided, the party moves along away from Norman's directions. The halfling accompanies them; he wants nothing more than to get out of this horrid place, but he knows that to survive he likely needs aid. He's definitely glad that they aren't going after the illithids; he's certain that that way lies only thralldom and doom.

Lester leads the party down a hall and opens the first door he finds. There's a huge, patchy-skinned snake in there, half out of a pool of bile. It's mouth is full of foul yellow froth. Fortunately, it's dead. The human turns to look at them as the door swings open.

"Who are you?" calls Lester.

"Are you friend or foe?" shouts Sheva.

The man has blond hair and is fairly handsome. He's probably pushing forty. He says, "My name is Slouthus. I'm an adventurer... and a friend, if you'll have one." He smiles.

"Well, what do you do?" asks Horbin. Slouthus doesn't seem to be armed or armored.

"I'm a sorcerer," the human says, still smiling. He seems to have a sort of radiant charisma. "As I said, I'm an adventurer, and I'm here basically in search of adventure."

Another hurried conference ensues, and the party decides that, though they don't trust this guy, it's better to keep him where they can keep an eye on him than to have him elsewhere.

The group continues and spreads along a long passage that ends in a door, various members looking down neighboring halls simultaneously. Lester looks at the door; it's formidable looking, made entirely of iron. "Hey, Sheva, do you wanna look this over for traps?" he calls, and she starts forward.

"I can do that too," Norman offers. He seems eager to ingratiate himself with the party.

First Sheva and then Norman examines the iron door for traps. Finding nothing, they move back and Lester attempts to open it but finds it locked. It doesn't look feasible to break it down, so Lester stone shapes a way past it. The hole is fairly small, however, and anyone crawling through it would be in a fairly awkward position if attacked from without.

"Hey, halfling," Lester says.





Next Time: The jail, the ghost, and the prisoner!

 

[the Jester]

"What?" Norman from Borman says nervously, eyeing the hole without a single bit of enthusiasm. "You want me to go in there??" His eagerness to integrate seems to have abruptly departed.

"Well, you're the smallest..." Lester smiles at him. He glances at the beads of bile that sweat from the wall.

Nervously, Norman squirms through the stone shaped entrance. He looks at the hall behind it, lined with massive doors with small, barred windows. Cells, he thinks.

"It's all clear," the halfling's voice comes from beyond the hole. Some of the others wriggle in through the hole. The group starts to search around.

Then suddenly a translucent hand rises from below and grabs at Grumpy Fluffbottom. His uncanny reflexes are all that save him as a mad-looking spectral elf emerges from the floor, gnashing its incorporeal teeth together.

"Wait!" Sheva cries. "We're here to help you! What can we do to put your spirit to rest?"

The ghost's eyes widen. It screams faintly. And it sinks back into the ground without a word.

"Wow, that worked!" Sheva says in surprise.*

The ghost doesn't reappear, so the party searches all the cells, uncovering a loose stone that, once removed, leads to a small crudely-dug tunnel. The party loosens their weapons in their sheathes and begins moving in...




*I believe she rolled about a 36 on her Diplomacy check.



Next Time: What is the prisoner in the secret tunnel?

 

[the Jester]

The Prisoner

It doesn't even remember why they put it in the cell so long ago. It's never going to feed again. If it goes back to the cell it will be caught by the terrible Lords. They will do things to it, to its essence. Even this- having this empty, hollow chest with no essence inside it- is better than that would be.

It has been here for how long? It doesn't even know any more. Thousands of years? Tens of thousands? It doesn't matter. There is no escape out there. It will wait here, in terrible gloom, until the ends of time. It does not need food or drink, after all.

And then it feels something- a warmth around it, in its chest. There are essences around it.



The party moves down the narrow tunnel, stooped over, almost crawling, Norman in the lead and walking comfortably. They emerge in a small hollowed out area. Within it is a strange creature- tall, almost skeletally gaunt, with a large hollow chest. It sits in an aspect of desponancy and doesn't seem to notice them. A faint, feverish light burns in the hollow sockets of its eyes.

"What is it?" whispers Norman fearfully. It doesn't seem to hear him. Lester and Sheva enter the chamber; the others are stretched out to the cells and even beyond the sealed door.

Suddenly the thing's bony head jerks and it seems to see them. Hissing despondantly, the strange creature stands up. A spark seems to flow from Lester to its chest, and for an instant it seems that a vaporous miniature Lester form is being drawn from the L's body. Then the horrific moment passes, leaving the Elementalist's face white with strain.

Norman whips out a dagger and tries to move into position on the thing, thrusting eagerly at its lower body. Sheva grasps her amulet of Coila and channels negative energy, trying to rebuke the thing, and she sees it flinch; but her clerical power is not well-developed enough for her to succeed. She whips out the death knight's greatsword and swings, but her blow misses the monster entirely. Lester pulls out Felix Optima Maxima and strikes the prisoner hard, but it still seems curiously despondant and disinterested in the entire proceeding.

"What's going on in there? Do you need help?" calls Zeebo's voice from without. In the hall beyond the locked iron door, Orbius is already casting one of the best spells he knows. A good part of the party is telepathically linked with a spell; it gives enough information for his seeker missiles to streak off, through the hole shaped in the wall, into the cell, down the bolt hole, and into the terrible undead creature's chest. With a loud boom, they blast it into oblivion.

"That thing tried to suck my soul or something!" Lester cries, visibly shaken. "Man, I hope it had some treasure."

A search turns up nothing, and the party briefly wonders who or what had imprisoned the strange thing, but there are no clues to be found. Still, the bolt hole seems like a good place to rest. It's a tight fit, but most of them can get in there together, and the entire row of cells seems safe enough too- assuming the ghostly elf doesn't come back.

The party settles in...




Next Time: The Leechwalkers! Reth Fire-Scarred's fate! And the power of high-level divinations- they let you get right where you want to be...

Or do you?

 

[the Jester]

What do you guys think about the monster point of view installments? Do you like those? I kinda like telling a little bit of the backstory of some of the weird stuff...

 

[Welverin]

What do you guys think about the monster point of view installments? Do you like those? I kinda like telling a little bit of the backstory of some of the weird stuff...

Those are good, keep them coming.

Lester sure is a hard core adventurer.

The seeker missiles going to end up here?