Blendorag (the First Assault)
Here it is, earlier than I'd planned, but hey.
*******
Blendorag. The island has squatted off the east coast of Dorhaus for as long as anyone can recall, for as long as the history of Dorhaus has been recorded. It is a name that makes bards shudder, that causes the wise and learned to turn their mouths down. It is well-known as a foul place of evil.
The island of Blendorag is some 500 miles long, an 80-mile wide spear of cracked earth and scarred rock. The forest of Blendorag is called the Deadwood; another of its landmarks is known as Everburn. The majority of the island rises to form the Cracked Plateau. The plateau rises starkly from the surrounding gravel and grit; it is hard to climb, crumbling under the fingers and toes of those who dare it. Atop the plateau are jagged chunks of sharp broken rock. Somewhere in the middle of it all is the Stinking Pit.
No one is known to have entered the Stinking Pit and returned. The Pit is about 50’ across, a roughly circular canker on the land. Thick, foul-smelling smoke rises from the pit. Terrible devils guard it, and it is said that a pit fiend dwells within; and although God-King Malford, Lester, Hobbes, Stone and certain other great heroes know of the promised treasure within the pit, none of them are presently with our heroes.
Even so, the existence of a fiend of the pit so near to Dorhaus- which he has sworn to protect- is something that Horbin the MFKG Holy cannot condone.
***
8/21/370 O.L.G., 11:11 a.m., Blendorag
Proto teleports our heroes to a spot just south of the Deadwood. They glance around, taking in the somber isle. There is no obvious sign of life; the Deadwood itself appears to be a forest of petrified trees. Looking it over, Gerontius quirks a smile; there are lots of shadows in there. Veil scans around for thoughts, but there is nothing nearby. Then she checks the time mentally; she has continued to dabble with obelisks over the last week or so, and has fallen under a chaos curse. She no longer needs to touch an obelisk; the chaos changes her every day. One of the things she has gained is a perfect sense of time. It amuses her to no end.
The party moves along the edge of the petrified forest. It is utterly creepy. There is no bird sound; there are no squirrels, no bugs. The few bushes the party sees are dead, petrified. “I don’t know why we didn’t just teleport right to the pit,” comments Lillamere, and Proto gives a metallic shrug.
“There’s nothing like some adventure,” Veil suggests.
“We should just go deal with this fiend,” Horbin grumbles.
Soon our heroes begin to hear a faint sound, a singing perhaps, in the distance. “What’s that?” wonders Gerontius, and the group moves to investigate. Soon enough, they warily approach a clearing with some sort of huge, 30’ tall petrified tree in it.
“I can’t get a reading,” reports Veil nervously, assiduously scanning.
Suddenly the tree begins to twitch.
Proto waits not even a second. He casts seeker missiles, firing a volley at the tree, and then a quickened far strike on his blade. “Watch out!” he calls. “It’s moving!”
Lillamere smirks. “I’ve got just the thing for it... close your eyes!” He hurls a sunburst, squeezing his own eyes shut as he does so and flinging an arm up to shield them from the glare besides. Light explodes, impossibly bright, and everyone is unable to see for a moment. Opening his watering eyes, Lillamere expects to see broken undead tree monster; but to his shock the thing is still standing, barely damaged.
“Oh crap,” he groans, “it’s not undead!”
He doesn’t have any time to say more; suddenly his worst nightmare is facing him: Drelvin gone mad, shooting him in the crotch just like before-
With a scream Lillamere falls dead to the ground.
Everyone else faces their worst fear as well; and in a moment of overwhelming terror the entire group roils in the grip of a weird. But everyone else manages to throw off the grip of the terrible magic.
As our heroes reel and moan, then begin to recover, Proto demonstrates the quality of his programming by casting a chain lightning at the petrified tree monster. The party closes in- and suddenly someone else is there too! A dwarf charges in with startling speed, neither armored nor armed. He rushes in towards the huge monster, but long before he reaches it he is slammed across the face by a thick, rocky tendril that tears free from the ground. It looks suspiciously like a root. The dwarf tumbles forward and springs into the tree, his attack deflecting off of its stony exterior.
Then the great petrified creature tears itself out of the ground as its roots pummel the dwarf. The monk spins and whirls, trying to defend himself, but there are too many of the roots. He fends off one and leaps over another, but then one crashes into his head with brutal force and breaks his jaw! He staggers back a pace, then another blow takes him in the side. He starts to flip away, avoiding another blow, but yet another stony root clips his hip as he tumbles away. He’s bleeding badly; it’s obvious that the blows have almost killed him. He manages to somersault out of the monster’s considerable reach.
“Impressive,” Inoke smiles. Then he power lunges forward with a yell, and the very ground shakes as the titanic tree and the cat-helmed club-wielding warmind slam each other. Though the tree smashes into Inoke over and over, he seems able to take almost unending punishment; and though he lands blow after blow on the plant, the creature seems disinclined to submit or die.
“I’m finally getting through,” Veil calls to the others. “It’s craving something- this can’t be good- hey I feel funny WHAT’S HAPPENING?!”
Suddenly lights blaze from Veil’s eyes. She shrieks in startlement, then realizes what is happening. “It’s Chaos!” she cries. “Wow, I can shoot lights from my eyes! Oooh, that’s a good one!”
Meanwhile, Proto, using his far strike, is both attacking and keeping his distance. He has managed to land several good blows, but he can see that the thing is still in pretty good shape. Worse, Inoke’s strength is obviously flagging; the tree has hit him too hard, too many times, and he stumbles. He is about to fall. Proto shows no emotion; he simply keeps attacking. What does he feel? Does he feel?
The dwarf- whoever the hell he is, thinks Gerontius, who is scared and frustrated (as his ability to sneak attack is useless against elementals, plants and undead, which are the three types of creature this thing looks like it might be) but apparently safe so long as he remains invisible- has meanwhile used his skills to restore some of his lost strength, followed up with a pair of healing potions. Now he steels himself as a final blow finally breaks Inoke’s neck, slaying him; then the dwarf charges in again, his fists cracking against the tree’s bark to no avail.
“Oh what the hell,” Gerontius mutters, and tumbles quietly and invisibly next to the tree thing. With a sigh, he whips out his fire and frost daggers and starts to make an earnest attempt. It is, indeed, better than nothing: the fire and cold seem to harm it, and if he cuts at it he seems to be able to damage it. Another chain lightning blasts the creature, and suddenly a great wind picks up and knocks Gerontius to the ground. Then the tree retreats a pace. The halfling struggles to raise himself up, but the wind is too strong. He screams in frustration. Proto, meanwhile, tries a disintegrate, which blasts some of the creature to powder, but it survives. Veil, meanwhile, is being smashed haplessly about by the roots. He is knocked senseless.
The dwarf, meanwhile, puts his head against the wind and keeps hammering at the creature. Finally he begins to do some damage. It weakens, but still stands; and the dwarf is unrelenting. It tries to scare him off, but it fails; and the dwarf and Proto together deliver the final blow, between the monk’s relentless fists and the warforged’s far strike. The terrible tree monster falls at last, shaking the earth and puncuating the surrounding silence dramatically. A great cloud of dust swirls up around our heroes. At least, those still standing.
Veil groans. Gerontius hurries to Lillamere; he’s dead, his eyes staring open and his mouth contorted in a rictus of fear. Inoke is dead too.
“Perhaps we should retreat for the time being,” suggests Proto.
***
1 p.m., inside a safe house in the Delphinate
“You can rest here, but you should probably stay inside,” Proto informs the group. “The better to stay out of trouble.”
Veil and Gerontius, ignoring the warforged, turn to the dwarf. “Thanks for your help,” Gerontius begins. “Now who the hell are you?”
The dwarf studies him for a moment. Finally, he answers: “Chakar.”
“What were you doing on Blendorag?” asks Veil. “I can’t read him,” she tells the halfling.
“I seek discipline. There was something there- that tree- that had many to an untimely death. I wished first to know whether my discipline is strong enough to resist it, and second to destroy it.” He pauses. “Both of my tasks are accomplished.” He bows to the party.
“Well like I said, thank you very much,” Gerontius says earnestly. They talk to the monk, and after telling him about some of their adventures and having seen his skill in combat, they ask him to join the party.
“You honor me,” he answers.
***
8/22/370 O.L.G., 8 p.m., the Delphinate
“Thank you for allowing us to rest here,” says Horbin.
“It is my pleasure. You are allies of my people. You will aid us at the Bastion of Law.” Proto’s voice remains a tinny monotone. Horbin momentarily wonders if that will ever change.
“And thank you, again, for bringing us back,” Inoke says humbly. Lillamere nods.
”Well, thank Dexter, really,” Horbin replies.
***
8/25/370 O.L.G., 2 p.m., the site of the battle with the petrified tree monster
Our heroes appear, teleporting in again. The site of the battle is just as they left it, except that the omnipresent dust has covered some of it up. They are here for one thing only: trophies.
”I want to make a club out of this,” Inoke says eagerly. “There’s certainly more than enough for all of us to make whatever we want!”
“I want a table for my castle. That’s classy.” Lillamere beams. “House Drelvin’s petrified evil treant wood coffee table. I like it.”
“That wasn’t an evil treant,” says Horbin. “I don’t know what it was, but it wasn’t any kind of treant I’ve ever seen.”
The petrified wood is difficult to harvest, but it’s a nice day. Our heroes chat merrily as they ferry big chunks of petrified wood to Brelana.
At one point, Horbin asks, “Hey Inoke, where’d you get that helmet?” He gestures at the helm Inoke so loves to wear, fashioned to resemble a fierce cat head.
“Back home,” Inoke replies, “in the Parrot Isles. When I was younger... before I was in the Forinthian navy...”
“You were in the navy?” exclaims Gerontius.
“Yep. Anyway, the helmet was in this place overrun by goblins. I took it from them.”
“It looks like a Miloxi artifact,” says Proto.
“What’s that?”
“The Miloxi Empire was an ancient tabaxi empire.”
“What, tabaxi like that Hobbes guy?”
“Yes.”
Inoke shudders. “I hope he doesn’t come after me,” he groans miserably.
“Anyhow, was there anything else like that helmet there? And didn’t you once tell us that it talks to you?” Horbin eyes the helmet in frank curiosity.
“I don’t know- you couldn’t really get in there. There was some kind of barrier.”
“Barrier?”
“Like a wall of force or something,” Inoke explains.
“Very interesting indeed,” comments Lillamere. “Maybe we should go check that place out.”
“What about Blendorag?” Horbin asks. “We need to get rid of this pit fiend.”
“The very first thing we met here killed two of us,” Lillamere says dryly. “Perhaps we could use a chance to prepare a little better.”
“True...”
“And if this place is an ancient Miloxi place, then maybe there’s something we can use against the pit fiend.”
“All right,” the cleric relents. “We’ll check out this place in the Parrot Isles first. But then I’m going to have to deal with the fiend, with or without you.”
“Of course we’ll help you, of course,” Inoke says hurriedly.
“Besides, this probably won’t take more than a couple of days,” Lillamere adds.
Next Time: Our heroes head to the Parrot Isles!
![:]](http://www.enworld.org/forum/images/smilies/devious.png "Devious :]")
