the Jester
Legend
Yeah- I need to check the recollections of Vic, Craig and Aaron (them being the only players still around from those days). Don't worry, though- I haven't abandoned this thread! 
Cydra: the Early Years
the Jester
Legend
The Trap Closes
4/18/98 O.L.G., 1: 50 p.m., Port Lofrax, Forinthia
The stage was set. The players were moving to the endgame. Dexter and his companions were hustling towards the address that Farenth’s defeated minions had given them. Sheila! Dexter thought desperately. I won’t let him hurt you!
Meanwhile, Chanticleer and her crew of pirates were moving towards the same place. They fully expected that a fair fight would be their end; and so they had no intention of giving a fair fight. Vosh had even wrapped himself in serpents, made friendly by his druidic powers. They might prove an invaluable asset in battle- or sufficient distraction to allow an escape. Realistically, he was ready for either one.
And the prime mover of all this? Farenth Whiteshield, fallen paladin and madman, later acclaimed as the Son of the Darkness in mockery of Dexter, paced nervously back and forth. He glanced at the supine form of the woman strapped to the altar of the Black Sun and grinned evilly. Oh, I have more than one surprise for you, Dexter, he promised silently, and then cackled aloud.
***
2 p.m.
“There’s the house,” whispered Lochenvare as the more heroic band of pcs approached the building.
It had the sort of old, creepy house look that only big houses with far too few people living in them can have. The house itself perched on a rise above the beach. The yard was overgrown, choked with weeds and clods of dirt. A week-dead cat, buzzing with flies, lay near the entrance. The building’s paint was peeling, already half-gone, and it looked like a few more good storms would throw the whole thing down in ruins.
“It’s too quiet,” murmured Malford the Magnificent. “Maybe I should scout it out.”
“Maybe,” Dexter grunted, “but we can’t waste too much time- who knows what Farenth’s doing to her in there!”
Rajah flexed his fingers. “No matter what he’s done to this woman,” the Tiger Prince growled, “let’s ensure that he can’t do it again.” His grin resembled that of a great hunting cat- an apt simile, as he was raised by tigers.
“Ex-cuuuuuse me!” cried a voice. “Did you say Farenth?”
The heroes whirled, blades rasping from their scabbards. Lochenvare brought his peryton-horned trident out. Lady Charlotte cranked back her crossbow and surreptitiously dropped a bolt in the slot.
Traipsing from the side yard came a young human man. He was garbed in outrageous pink-dyed leather armor. He minced towards them coquettishly, smiling an impish smile, and said, “Farenth sends his regards! If-“
The next word he would have spoken never emerged. Even as he began to parlay with the group, Lady Charlotte, paladin of Galador, leveled her crossbow at him and shot him in the middle of the chest, instantly piercing his heart and killing him. Seth fell in a gurgle of blood.
”What are you DOING?!” cried Dexter.
“What?” Charlotte seemed entirely nonplussed. “He was working for Farenth.” She shrugged, unconcerned.
“We don’t know that!” Malford grated. “And even if he is- I mean was- he might be a dupe!”
“Too late now,” smirked Lochenvare, and gave Charlotte a thumbs-up.
“When this is all over, we need to talk,” snapped Dexter at Lady Charlotte, who looked profoundly confused at the others. But then the group cautiously entered the house.
***
2:09 p.m.
The villains sidled up to the house only minutes later. They had taken longer to arrive than Seth had by virtue of a quick stop to thresh out their deadly rope trick plan. Now, as the house came into view, they moved very carefully indeed.
“They don’t even know me. I’ll go see whether they’re visible,” suggested Vosh.
“No,” Delilah said sharply. “If we split up, we die.”
The others nodded. After a rapid discussion, they applied the dust of disappearance and all joined hands. Then, carefully, they edged their way up to the house.
“Ach,” commented Urdor Darkwind.
The body of Seth sprawled before the porch. From the street it was hidden by the overgrown lawn. “Alas,” Delilah said sadly, “poor Seth, we hardly knew him. Yet he seemed almost one of us...” She heaved a sigh. “Well, to the rope trick, then,” she added, and cast her spell.
Eagerly, the villains clambered into the extradimensional space created by the conjuress. The group began drinking what potions they had, activating magic items with lasting durations and stretching their muscles. They were, in short, extremely ready. They could see through a sort of dimensional window; when the heroes came out of the house, the pirates would ambush and slay them, emerging unseen from that same window, which hung in the air. And movement would not be a problem- not with the flying ability they had gained from the potions. Striking from an unexpected direction, unseen; they should be able to overcome any advantage Dexter and Malford and their crew might be able to seize.
Of them all, only Akakathan had second thoughts. He was no evil mastermind, or vessel of a dark power; he had no vested interest in slaying Dexter. He knew, though, that to abandon the group now would lead them to turn on him, to hunt him down and kill him. Maybe after they killed Dexter... He mulled his options desperately; he could not see a good one.
***
2:23 p.m.
Slowly, with Malford warily checking every inch of hallway, every door and every room for traps, the heroes crept through the house of Farenth. Here and there they could see an occasional dark stain on the floor- quite possibly blood. Most of the house was abandoned, with but a few ancient and brittle curtains and rotten tables to be found. Bare shelves, a fireplace long cold- and finally, after over half an hour of searching, a narrow door leading to a claustrophobic staircase that ended at a thick, stone door.
***
2:59 p.m.
Farenth gloated. His heart sang with joy; his ring of spell storing was going to prove the perfect tool for his revenge. He chuckled as he saw the door to the center of his trap start to open at last.
But where were the pirates?
***
3:04 p.m.
“I don’t like it.” Vosh’s voice disturbed the stillness inside the rope trick, seemingly emerging from nowhere. “They’re taking too long.”
“You’re right.” This was Akakathan, speaking up for the first time all day. “Our potions won’t last forever, and when they do, we lose much of our advantage.”
“Perhaps we should attack, then,” suggested Vosh. “Maybe it’s time we took the fight to them, while we still have the advantage.
“No, we should stay here,” argued Delilah invisibly. “We’ve got a great plan, if we go charging headlong we’re going to charge headlong into disaster.
“Bah! We’ve got the best kind of invisibility you can get, we can get away by flying, and most of us are undead! Why, if we have trouble, we can split up and meet again underwater- they certainly can’t mount an extended pursuit there.” This was the dark cleric Urdor again.
“Whereas you don’t need to breathe, and I’m perfectly at home in the water.” Akakathan, as a merellin, could shapechange into a dolphin-like form.
“Well, the decision is really the captain’s,” Delilah said. “Captain? What do you think?”
Silence.
Followed by more silence.
“Chanti?” asked Vosh tentatively.
***
3:00 p.m.
Let no man say that Lochenvare showed fear that day. With a surly grin on his face, his trident clutched in one hand, he cast open that fateful door at the bottom of the stairs. It stuck for a moment, then gave way, and light washed in over them from torches in sconces on all four walls. Lochenvare advanced a few paces to allow his companions in, surveying the strange dark chapel he found himself in.
“Good afternoon,” purred a voice, and Dexter gasped.
It’s him! the Son of the Light thought, and reached out to his homunculus, looking through its eyes. Blind himself, he had not yet seen what the others, stunned, were taking in.
They were in a dark chapel to Bleak. The room itself was about 20’ high, with a central dais raised about 5’ from the floor. Upon this dais was a festering altar of black stone, strangely warped-looking about the sides but with a flat top. The flat portion was of sufficient size to hold manacles spaced or a man or elf; and spreadeagled naked on this slab, locked in place, lay the supine form of Sheila the Confessor, for whom Dexter had come. His heart leapt at the thought of rescuing her. Next to the corrupt altar of darkness stood a dark-haired man bursting with malevolent glee. Dexter recognized him instantly as Farenth. Draped across all the walls were great black tapestries. Not visible to the eye but only to the touch, the Black Sun of Bleak was stitched in the center of them all. The floor was muffled with black cloth- but despite its dark color, some stains were visible in it.
“Farenth!” cried Dexter, “Let her go!”
“Come and get her,” Farenth retorted, rubbing his hands together. He let loose a sinister laugh.
“Be careful!” urged Malford, and the group started maneuvering into the chamber, spreading out to take Farenth from all sides. Their foe leisurely plucked a dagger from the side of the altar and pointed the tip at Sheila.
The confessor, bound to the altar, let out a desperate moan.
“We seem to be at an impasse,” Farenth commented. “If you come closer, I kill her.” Our heroes drew up short.
“What do you want?” Dexter demanded. Farenth shrugged and grinned at him.
“He’s up to something!” warned Malford. But what? He doesn’t look like he’s casting a spell...
Then, suddenly, Charlotte gave out a terrible scream of pain as blood splashed down her arm and side. Suddenly there was a great rent in her armor and she staggered back. To her horror, she found herself unable to lay on hands.
”What...?” Lochenvare started, and gasped as an invisible blade stabbed into the seam in his armor at the knee. With a grunt, he staggered back and stabbed blindly with his trident. “Watch out, there’s someone invisible!” he shouted, limping on his wounded leg.
”Improved invisible,” Malford corrected, drawing both his blades.
Next Time: Dexter’s party vs. Chanti’s party at last! It’s on- prepare for massive amounts of death and trickery!
4/18/98 O.L.G., 1: 50 p.m., Port Lofrax, Forinthia
The stage was set. The players were moving to the endgame. Dexter and his companions were hustling towards the address that Farenth’s defeated minions had given them. Sheila! Dexter thought desperately. I won’t let him hurt you!
Meanwhile, Chanticleer and her crew of pirates were moving towards the same place. They fully expected that a fair fight would be their end; and so they had no intention of giving a fair fight. Vosh had even wrapped himself in serpents, made friendly by his druidic powers. They might prove an invaluable asset in battle- or sufficient distraction to allow an escape. Realistically, he was ready for either one.
And the prime mover of all this? Farenth Whiteshield, fallen paladin and madman, later acclaimed as the Son of the Darkness in mockery of Dexter, paced nervously back and forth. He glanced at the supine form of the woman strapped to the altar of the Black Sun and grinned evilly. Oh, I have more than one surprise for you, Dexter, he promised silently, and then cackled aloud.
***
2 p.m.
“There’s the house,” whispered Lochenvare as the more heroic band of pcs approached the building.
It had the sort of old, creepy house look that only big houses with far too few people living in them can have. The house itself perched on a rise above the beach. The yard was overgrown, choked with weeds and clods of dirt. A week-dead cat, buzzing with flies, lay near the entrance. The building’s paint was peeling, already half-gone, and it looked like a few more good storms would throw the whole thing down in ruins.
“It’s too quiet,” murmured Malford the Magnificent. “Maybe I should scout it out.”
“Maybe,” Dexter grunted, “but we can’t waste too much time- who knows what Farenth’s doing to her in there!”
Rajah flexed his fingers. “No matter what he’s done to this woman,” the Tiger Prince growled, “let’s ensure that he can’t do it again.” His grin resembled that of a great hunting cat- an apt simile, as he was raised by tigers.
“Ex-cuuuuuse me!” cried a voice. “Did you say Farenth?”
The heroes whirled, blades rasping from their scabbards. Lochenvare brought his peryton-horned trident out. Lady Charlotte cranked back her crossbow and surreptitiously dropped a bolt in the slot.
Traipsing from the side yard came a young human man. He was garbed in outrageous pink-dyed leather armor. He minced towards them coquettishly, smiling an impish smile, and said, “Farenth sends his regards! If-“
The next word he would have spoken never emerged. Even as he began to parlay with the group, Lady Charlotte, paladin of Galador, leveled her crossbow at him and shot him in the middle of the chest, instantly piercing his heart and killing him. Seth fell in a gurgle of blood.
”What are you DOING?!” cried Dexter.
“What?” Charlotte seemed entirely nonplussed. “He was working for Farenth.” She shrugged, unconcerned.
“We don’t know that!” Malford grated. “And even if he is- I mean was- he might be a dupe!”
“Too late now,” smirked Lochenvare, and gave Charlotte a thumbs-up.
“When this is all over, we need to talk,” snapped Dexter at Lady Charlotte, who looked profoundly confused at the others. But then the group cautiously entered the house.
***
2:09 p.m.
The villains sidled up to the house only minutes later. They had taken longer to arrive than Seth had by virtue of a quick stop to thresh out their deadly rope trick plan. Now, as the house came into view, they moved very carefully indeed.
“They don’t even know me. I’ll go see whether they’re visible,” suggested Vosh.
“No,” Delilah said sharply. “If we split up, we die.”
The others nodded. After a rapid discussion, they applied the dust of disappearance and all joined hands. Then, carefully, they edged their way up to the house.
“Ach,” commented Urdor Darkwind.
The body of Seth sprawled before the porch. From the street it was hidden by the overgrown lawn. “Alas,” Delilah said sadly, “poor Seth, we hardly knew him. Yet he seemed almost one of us...” She heaved a sigh. “Well, to the rope trick, then,” she added, and cast her spell.
Eagerly, the villains clambered into the extradimensional space created by the conjuress. The group began drinking what potions they had, activating magic items with lasting durations and stretching their muscles. They were, in short, extremely ready. They could see through a sort of dimensional window; when the heroes came out of the house, the pirates would ambush and slay them, emerging unseen from that same window, which hung in the air. And movement would not be a problem- not with the flying ability they had gained from the potions. Striking from an unexpected direction, unseen; they should be able to overcome any advantage Dexter and Malford and their crew might be able to seize.
Of them all, only Akakathan had second thoughts. He was no evil mastermind, or vessel of a dark power; he had no vested interest in slaying Dexter. He knew, though, that to abandon the group now would lead them to turn on him, to hunt him down and kill him. Maybe after they killed Dexter... He mulled his options desperately; he could not see a good one.
***
2:23 p.m.
Slowly, with Malford warily checking every inch of hallway, every door and every room for traps, the heroes crept through the house of Farenth. Here and there they could see an occasional dark stain on the floor- quite possibly blood. Most of the house was abandoned, with but a few ancient and brittle curtains and rotten tables to be found. Bare shelves, a fireplace long cold- and finally, after over half an hour of searching, a narrow door leading to a claustrophobic staircase that ended at a thick, stone door.
***
2:59 p.m.
Farenth gloated. His heart sang with joy; his ring of spell storing was going to prove the perfect tool for his revenge. He chuckled as he saw the door to the center of his trap start to open at last.
But where were the pirates?
***
3:04 p.m.
“I don’t like it.” Vosh’s voice disturbed the stillness inside the rope trick, seemingly emerging from nowhere. “They’re taking too long.”
“You’re right.” This was Akakathan, speaking up for the first time all day. “Our potions won’t last forever, and when they do, we lose much of our advantage.”
“Perhaps we should attack, then,” suggested Vosh. “Maybe it’s time we took the fight to them, while we still have the advantage.
“No, we should stay here,” argued Delilah invisibly. “We’ve got a great plan, if we go charging headlong we’re going to charge headlong into disaster.
“Bah! We’ve got the best kind of invisibility you can get, we can get away by flying, and most of us are undead! Why, if we have trouble, we can split up and meet again underwater- they certainly can’t mount an extended pursuit there.” This was the dark cleric Urdor again.
“Whereas you don’t need to breathe, and I’m perfectly at home in the water.” Akakathan, as a merellin, could shapechange into a dolphin-like form.
“Well, the decision is really the captain’s,” Delilah said. “Captain? What do you think?”
Silence.
Followed by more silence.
“Chanti?” asked Vosh tentatively.
***
3:00 p.m.
Let no man say that Lochenvare showed fear that day. With a surly grin on his face, his trident clutched in one hand, he cast open that fateful door at the bottom of the stairs. It stuck for a moment, then gave way, and light washed in over them from torches in sconces on all four walls. Lochenvare advanced a few paces to allow his companions in, surveying the strange dark chapel he found himself in.
“Good afternoon,” purred a voice, and Dexter gasped.
It’s him! the Son of the Light thought, and reached out to his homunculus, looking through its eyes. Blind himself, he had not yet seen what the others, stunned, were taking in.
They were in a dark chapel to Bleak. The room itself was about 20’ high, with a central dais raised about 5’ from the floor. Upon this dais was a festering altar of black stone, strangely warped-looking about the sides but with a flat top. The flat portion was of sufficient size to hold manacles spaced or a man or elf; and spreadeagled naked on this slab, locked in place, lay the supine form of Sheila the Confessor, for whom Dexter had come. His heart leapt at the thought of rescuing her. Next to the corrupt altar of darkness stood a dark-haired man bursting with malevolent glee. Dexter recognized him instantly as Farenth. Draped across all the walls were great black tapestries. Not visible to the eye but only to the touch, the Black Sun of Bleak was stitched in the center of them all. The floor was muffled with black cloth- but despite its dark color, some stains were visible in it.
“Farenth!” cried Dexter, “Let her go!”
“Come and get her,” Farenth retorted, rubbing his hands together. He let loose a sinister laugh.
“Be careful!” urged Malford, and the group started maneuvering into the chamber, spreading out to take Farenth from all sides. Their foe leisurely plucked a dagger from the side of the altar and pointed the tip at Sheila.
The confessor, bound to the altar, let out a desperate moan.
“We seem to be at an impasse,” Farenth commented. “If you come closer, I kill her.” Our heroes drew up short.
“What do you want?” Dexter demanded. Farenth shrugged and grinned at him.
“He’s up to something!” warned Malford. But what? He doesn’t look like he’s casting a spell...
Then, suddenly, Charlotte gave out a terrible scream of pain as blood splashed down her arm and side. Suddenly there was a great rent in her armor and she staggered back. To her horror, she found herself unable to lay on hands.
”What...?” Lochenvare started, and gasped as an invisible blade stabbed into the seam in his armor at the knee. With a grunt, he staggered back and stabbed blindly with his trident. “Watch out, there’s someone invisible!” he shouted, limping on his wounded leg.
”Improved invisible,” Malford corrected, drawing both his blades.
Next Time: Dexter’s party vs. Chanti’s party at last! It’s on- prepare for massive amounts of death and trickery!
the Jester
Legend
An important thing to remember when considering the timeline in this story hour is that this is during the earlier, 2e era of the campaign, and so 1 round = 1 minute.
the Jester
Legend
Farenth's Game, Finale
Lochenvare gave another shout of pain. Crimson welled from his back, his side; an unseen blade flicked out, cutting him again. He whirled and jabbed at the unseen enemy with his trident, but he thrust through empty air. Where was his enemy?
Argh! Behind him!!
Grimly, Lochenvare staggered away from the stinging blade. I’m leaking, he thought faintly.
Gloating, Chanticleer, powdered into invisibility by the dust of disappearance, pressed her attack, springing at the paladin bitch again. Her sword clanged into Lady Charlotte’s armor, then sliced along Charlotte’s face.
While Charlotte haplessly tried to fight the invisible villain, Dexter grimaced and shouted, “Farenth, let her go! This is between us!” Farenth smiled wickedly and kept his dagger at his prisoner’s throat.
He’s going to kill her, Dexter realized sickly. I have to stop him! Even blind, Dexter was gripped by determination. He gripped his staff of combat tight in both hands and moved forward. “Let her go!” he cried again, activating his gloves of mirror image.
Rajah, meanwhile, activated his animal affinity to gain the powers of smell that tigers possess. He knew that even if he couldn’t see an enemy, he could smell them out.
***
3:06 p.m.
“Where’s Chanti? Chanticleer, are you here?” Delilah’s voice edged on panic. If she just ran ahead, she might spoil the whole plan! the conjuress thought. A tight spasm of fear ran through her.
“She must have gone ahead,” rumbled Urdor Darkwind, cleric of Bleak.
“We have to go after her.” That was the voice of Vosh. All of the pirates were invisible thanks to the dust.
“But the plan-“ protests Delilah. Then she pauses. “She can’t take them alone, and she’s our leader. Let’s go.”
***
3:08 p.m.
Malford cast a burning hands into the air, blistering around Chanti and momentarily outlining her form. Lochenvare and Charlotte both struck immediately, and Lochenvare landed a glancing blow. Seeing the splatter of blood, he grinned raggedly. “Now we’re talking!” he snarled. “We’ve got you now!” Rajah, too, attempted to strike, but Lochenvare blundered into his way, fouling his blow.
But Chanticleer had already bounded back, twisted to the side, and come in behind him. Another stab in the arm to Lochenvare and the fighter was barely standing. “A little help here, Dex!” he groaned.
Then, suddenly, an arrow of acid sliced from empty air through one of Dexter’s images. He gave a cry of surprise, and then the sound of galloping hooves thundered into the chamber, and a cry from nowhere- ”BLEAK!!!”- and the other invisible villains crashed into our heroes like swords against shields. Suddenly, Malford, Charlotte and Lochenvare were all fighting for their lives, beset by the unseen enemies, while Delilah conjured a fat, venomous spider on Dexter. Unfortunately it was just one of his mirror images, and the illusion popped as the spider bit it.
Dexter turned and swung his staff of combat, and it rang off of an invisible shield. With a grunt, the blind cleric spun his staff defensively, trying to fend off the rebuttal; but Urdor’s invisible axe only cut down an image. A few still remained. Then Delilah hurled a vial of liquid at Dexter, and it struck the real man and shattered, spilling what looked like water on him. But it burned! He hissed in pain. Unholy water, he realized. Whoever these invisible people are, I think they’re agents of Farenth!
Charlotte gasped as she parried another blow from the invisible Chanti, but then suddenly she stiffened in pain. Her armor was heating up! Vosh, invisible, had cast heat metal upon her. From behind the paladin, his deadly sharp scimitar sliced in, cutting her across the back. She staggered, blood pouring from her, as the centaur’s hooves battered her. Her arm weakened as she fell to one knee, shaking her head. She tried again to lay hands upon herself, to channel the Light to heal herself.
Chanti ran her through.
Lady Charlotte Keen fell, dead, to the ground. The first to fall in this monumental battle.
Dexter groaned inwardly. Malford shouted in dismay and cast a mirror image to defend herself.
Farenth watched. Very clever, he thought. Lyr and her companions have come in unseen. And it looks as though they will win handily. Well, I can’t have that- after all, they must pay as well! Grinning savagely, he triggered the dispel magic in his ring.
It washed over the room, getting everything except for Farenth and his prisoner, and suddenly, the situation changed. The villains were visible. Much to Farenth’s surprise, one of the villains was only inches from him: Akakathan, bard and merellin.
“Chanticleer!” exclaimed Malford.
“Yes, captain,” the villain said mockingly. “We’ve come back to give you your reward for your treason against Galliger!”
Lochenvare grinned. “Now that we can see you, we’re gonna reward you for coming by.” He stabbed at Chanti with all his strength, and only her quick reflexes and skillful parry stopped her from being skewered! Even so, his blow tore her along the side, and blood sprayed all over. Chanti staggered, grimacing as Dexter cast a cure light wounds on Lochenvare. Then he began to radiate light- a new prayer he had researched himself, the radiance of Galador. Chanti hissed; it was blinding her!
Urdor Darkwind laughed, reaching into the darkness that was his god, and despoiled light. The radiance flickered and died. Dexter cried out in surprise.
“Fool boy, the darkness ever overwhelms the light,” the evil cleric mocked.
Shaken, Dexter yelled back, “The Light shall pierce all darkness in the end!” He uttered another invocation to Galador, another new spell he had created, and launched a series of small motes of sunlight from his chest at the Bleakist. They impacted on Urdor Darkwind with flashes of light and power, and blew the dwarf from his feet. He groaned, dazed.
“Let the girl go,” Akakathan said sharply to Farenth atop the dais. He whipped his rapier from its sheath. “Or I’ll run you through.”
“Oh?” Farenth’s voice was mocking. “I’d watch my back, if I were you! In case you hadn’t noticed, you’re busy fighting for your lives here! Now where’s Captain Lyr, boy?”
“She’s gone- dead,” the merellin spat. Farenth’s face darkened in anger.
Chanti and Lochenvare were locked corps a corps. They struggled, each trying to gain the advantage, until Lochenvare smashed his gauntlet in Chanti’s face. She staggered back, blinded for just an instant, and he threw her off of him. As she pitched back, he jabbed forward with the peryton-horn trident.
Chanticleer shrieked.
His blow hit her between the legs, impaling her pelvis. Blood gouted massively as she jerked and thrashed for a moment; then Chanti fell, twitching, to the floor. Her eyes stared sightlessly at the ceiling.
A great cry of despair arose from the villains. “Captain!” cried Delilah.
“Let’s go!” roared Lochenvare, spinning and stabbing down at Urdor Darkwind. The dwarf raised his shield, but Lochenvare punched right through it, and Urdor felt the trident stab into his throat- then nothing more.
“Flee!” cried Delilah, instantly taking her own advice. Vosh turned and began thundering away, but as he did Malford sank the hook of rending into him, and it began squirming and tearing at him. He and Delilah pounded up the stairs.
”Don’t let them get away!” cried Malford, casting fly and zipping up the stairs after them. Rajah tore after him.
“What about this fellow?” Lochenvare jerked a thumb at Akakathan, still faced off with Farenth.
“I don’t want to fight you!” cried the merellin to Lochenvare, then stabbed savagely at Farenth.
His blade pierced the man who had brought them to this place, but it went right through him as if he weren’t really there. Farenth laughed mockingly, then bowed. Then he let his projected image vanish.
“Good enough for now,” grunted the burly fighter, bounding up the stairs after the others.
The sea was near the house, and it was to the sea that Delilah and Vosh raced. Delilah was in the lead; Malford sighted on her and fired a Melf’s acid arrow, landing solidly in her back. She grunted and staggered, but kept running. Vosh grimaced, his green hair whipping in the wind, and struggled forward through the sand. The hook of rending in his flank was doing terrible damage, churning of its own volition in his flesh. He reached the surf, gasping, and grasped the hook. If it stayed within him any longer it would be the end of him! He grimaced, seeing Dexter, Malford, Rajah and Lochenvare rushing towards him. But he had to get it free... he groaned. The pain was too much! He was fading- fading-
As Vosh collapsed, a great wave pulled his corpse out to sea.
Delilah staggered into the water. Behind her, Malford grimly fired his bow, landing another arrow in her. He knew the acid from his spell would be quickly washed away underwater. He bit his lip as the conjuress disappeared under the waves, and flew overhead warily for almost ten minutes before alighting and sighing. “Well, either she had a way to breathe underwater, or she surfaced somewhere I didn’t see, or she’s dead,” he said.
The party returned to the house, Farenth’s nest, and Dexter immediately freed Sheila from the slab. She was sobbing in fear. He held her against him for a moment.
“Charlotte’s dead,” Lochenvare growled. “And what do we do with this guy?” He jerked his thumb at Akakathan, who was sitting on the floor looking ill. “Should I just kill him?”
“No,” Dexter says sharply. “But I’m not sure what we should do with him.”
Rajah shot a hard look over at the merellin. “To start with, we should question him.”
“I’ll answer anything I can,” Akakathan said unhappily.
“Where’s Farenth?” snapped Dexter.
“I’m afraid I don’t know. That was a projected image,” Akakathan explained.
“He had to be somewhere close by,” Malford said, and the group made a search of the surrounding areas; but they were too late. Farenth was gone. He had escaped.
***
He was not quite the only one.
Shaking in fear of Dexter, after two days Delilah the Damned finally accepted that she was the last survivor of her band. She trudged underwater along the Forinthian coast for quite some time before she emerged; the last thing she wanted was to come out of the water near Dexter and his band!
We should have stuck to the plan, she thought wryly.
The mud churned around her feet as she walked across the sea bottom.
Well, she said to herself, I think I’ve had enough of piracy for now. I need a nice, safe place to work on spells, so I can create Dexter’s debilitation, so if he comes after me I have a defense. Some money, maybe some servants...
Delilah, mind always racing, turned upslope.
Well, folks, that’s the ‘first cycle’ of Cydra: the Early Years. I don’t know yet if I’ll keep this thread going (perhaps following Dexter’s band) or switch to some other earlier adventures in a new thread, or neither, or both... I guess we’ll see! But this closes out the first major story arc in Cydra. I hope you enjoyed it!
Lochenvare gave another shout of pain. Crimson welled from his back, his side; an unseen blade flicked out, cutting him again. He whirled and jabbed at the unseen enemy with his trident, but he thrust through empty air. Where was his enemy?
Argh! Behind him!!
Grimly, Lochenvare staggered away from the stinging blade. I’m leaking, he thought faintly.
Gloating, Chanticleer, powdered into invisibility by the dust of disappearance, pressed her attack, springing at the paladin bitch again. Her sword clanged into Lady Charlotte’s armor, then sliced along Charlotte’s face.
While Charlotte haplessly tried to fight the invisible villain, Dexter grimaced and shouted, “Farenth, let her go! This is between us!” Farenth smiled wickedly and kept his dagger at his prisoner’s throat.
He’s going to kill her, Dexter realized sickly. I have to stop him! Even blind, Dexter was gripped by determination. He gripped his staff of combat tight in both hands and moved forward. “Let her go!” he cried again, activating his gloves of mirror image.
Rajah, meanwhile, activated his animal affinity to gain the powers of smell that tigers possess. He knew that even if he couldn’t see an enemy, he could smell them out.
***
3:06 p.m.
“Where’s Chanti? Chanticleer, are you here?” Delilah’s voice edged on panic. If she just ran ahead, she might spoil the whole plan! the conjuress thought. A tight spasm of fear ran through her.
“She must have gone ahead,” rumbled Urdor Darkwind, cleric of Bleak.
“We have to go after her.” That was the voice of Vosh. All of the pirates were invisible thanks to the dust.
“But the plan-“ protests Delilah. Then she pauses. “She can’t take them alone, and she’s our leader. Let’s go.”
***
3:08 p.m.
Malford cast a burning hands into the air, blistering around Chanti and momentarily outlining her form. Lochenvare and Charlotte both struck immediately, and Lochenvare landed a glancing blow. Seeing the splatter of blood, he grinned raggedly. “Now we’re talking!” he snarled. “We’ve got you now!” Rajah, too, attempted to strike, but Lochenvare blundered into his way, fouling his blow.
But Chanticleer had already bounded back, twisted to the side, and come in behind him. Another stab in the arm to Lochenvare and the fighter was barely standing. “A little help here, Dex!” he groaned.
Then, suddenly, an arrow of acid sliced from empty air through one of Dexter’s images. He gave a cry of surprise, and then the sound of galloping hooves thundered into the chamber, and a cry from nowhere- ”BLEAK!!!”- and the other invisible villains crashed into our heroes like swords against shields. Suddenly, Malford, Charlotte and Lochenvare were all fighting for their lives, beset by the unseen enemies, while Delilah conjured a fat, venomous spider on Dexter. Unfortunately it was just one of his mirror images, and the illusion popped as the spider bit it.
Dexter turned and swung his staff of combat, and it rang off of an invisible shield. With a grunt, the blind cleric spun his staff defensively, trying to fend off the rebuttal; but Urdor’s invisible axe only cut down an image. A few still remained. Then Delilah hurled a vial of liquid at Dexter, and it struck the real man and shattered, spilling what looked like water on him. But it burned! He hissed in pain. Unholy water, he realized. Whoever these invisible people are, I think they’re agents of Farenth!
Charlotte gasped as she parried another blow from the invisible Chanti, but then suddenly she stiffened in pain. Her armor was heating up! Vosh, invisible, had cast heat metal upon her. From behind the paladin, his deadly sharp scimitar sliced in, cutting her across the back. She staggered, blood pouring from her, as the centaur’s hooves battered her. Her arm weakened as she fell to one knee, shaking her head. She tried again to lay hands upon herself, to channel the Light to heal herself.
Chanti ran her through.
Lady Charlotte Keen fell, dead, to the ground. The first to fall in this monumental battle.
Dexter groaned inwardly. Malford shouted in dismay and cast a mirror image to defend herself.
Farenth watched. Very clever, he thought. Lyr and her companions have come in unseen. And it looks as though they will win handily. Well, I can’t have that- after all, they must pay as well! Grinning savagely, he triggered the dispel magic in his ring.
It washed over the room, getting everything except for Farenth and his prisoner, and suddenly, the situation changed. The villains were visible. Much to Farenth’s surprise, one of the villains was only inches from him: Akakathan, bard and merellin.
“Chanticleer!” exclaimed Malford.
“Yes, captain,” the villain said mockingly. “We’ve come back to give you your reward for your treason against Galliger!”
Lochenvare grinned. “Now that we can see you, we’re gonna reward you for coming by.” He stabbed at Chanti with all his strength, and only her quick reflexes and skillful parry stopped her from being skewered! Even so, his blow tore her along the side, and blood sprayed all over. Chanti staggered, grimacing as Dexter cast a cure light wounds on Lochenvare. Then he began to radiate light- a new prayer he had researched himself, the radiance of Galador. Chanti hissed; it was blinding her!
Urdor Darkwind laughed, reaching into the darkness that was his god, and despoiled light. The radiance flickered and died. Dexter cried out in surprise.
“Fool boy, the darkness ever overwhelms the light,” the evil cleric mocked.
Shaken, Dexter yelled back, “The Light shall pierce all darkness in the end!” He uttered another invocation to Galador, another new spell he had created, and launched a series of small motes of sunlight from his chest at the Bleakist. They impacted on Urdor Darkwind with flashes of light and power, and blew the dwarf from his feet. He groaned, dazed.
“Let the girl go,” Akakathan said sharply to Farenth atop the dais. He whipped his rapier from its sheath. “Or I’ll run you through.”
“Oh?” Farenth’s voice was mocking. “I’d watch my back, if I were you! In case you hadn’t noticed, you’re busy fighting for your lives here! Now where’s Captain Lyr, boy?”
“She’s gone- dead,” the merellin spat. Farenth’s face darkened in anger.
Chanti and Lochenvare were locked corps a corps. They struggled, each trying to gain the advantage, until Lochenvare smashed his gauntlet in Chanti’s face. She staggered back, blinded for just an instant, and he threw her off of him. As she pitched back, he jabbed forward with the peryton-horn trident.
Chanticleer shrieked.
His blow hit her between the legs, impaling her pelvis. Blood gouted massively as she jerked and thrashed for a moment; then Chanti fell, twitching, to the floor. Her eyes stared sightlessly at the ceiling.
A great cry of despair arose from the villains. “Captain!” cried Delilah.
“Let’s go!” roared Lochenvare, spinning and stabbing down at Urdor Darkwind. The dwarf raised his shield, but Lochenvare punched right through it, and Urdor felt the trident stab into his throat- then nothing more.
“Flee!” cried Delilah, instantly taking her own advice. Vosh turned and began thundering away, but as he did Malford sank the hook of rending into him, and it began squirming and tearing at him. He and Delilah pounded up the stairs.
”Don’t let them get away!” cried Malford, casting fly and zipping up the stairs after them. Rajah tore after him.
“What about this fellow?” Lochenvare jerked a thumb at Akakathan, still faced off with Farenth.
“I don’t want to fight you!” cried the merellin to Lochenvare, then stabbed savagely at Farenth.
His blade pierced the man who had brought them to this place, but it went right through him as if he weren’t really there. Farenth laughed mockingly, then bowed. Then he let his projected image vanish.
“Good enough for now,” grunted the burly fighter, bounding up the stairs after the others.
The sea was near the house, and it was to the sea that Delilah and Vosh raced. Delilah was in the lead; Malford sighted on her and fired a Melf’s acid arrow, landing solidly in her back. She grunted and staggered, but kept running. Vosh grimaced, his green hair whipping in the wind, and struggled forward through the sand. The hook of rending in his flank was doing terrible damage, churning of its own volition in his flesh. He reached the surf, gasping, and grasped the hook. If it stayed within him any longer it would be the end of him! He grimaced, seeing Dexter, Malford, Rajah and Lochenvare rushing towards him. But he had to get it free... he groaned. The pain was too much! He was fading- fading-
As Vosh collapsed, a great wave pulled his corpse out to sea.
Delilah staggered into the water. Behind her, Malford grimly fired his bow, landing another arrow in her. He knew the acid from his spell would be quickly washed away underwater. He bit his lip as the conjuress disappeared under the waves, and flew overhead warily for almost ten minutes before alighting and sighing. “Well, either she had a way to breathe underwater, or she surfaced somewhere I didn’t see, or she’s dead,” he said.
The party returned to the house, Farenth’s nest, and Dexter immediately freed Sheila from the slab. She was sobbing in fear. He held her against him for a moment.
“Charlotte’s dead,” Lochenvare growled. “And what do we do with this guy?” He jerked his thumb at Akakathan, who was sitting on the floor looking ill. “Should I just kill him?”
“No,” Dexter says sharply. “But I’m not sure what we should do with him.”
Rajah shot a hard look over at the merellin. “To start with, we should question him.”
“I’ll answer anything I can,” Akakathan said unhappily.
“Where’s Farenth?” snapped Dexter.
“I’m afraid I don’t know. That was a projected image,” Akakathan explained.
“He had to be somewhere close by,” Malford said, and the group made a search of the surrounding areas; but they were too late. Farenth was gone. He had escaped.
***
He was not quite the only one.
Shaking in fear of Dexter, after two days Delilah the Damned finally accepted that she was the last survivor of her band. She trudged underwater along the Forinthian coast for quite some time before she emerged; the last thing she wanted was to come out of the water near Dexter and his band!
We should have stuck to the plan, she thought wryly.
The mud churned around her feet as she walked across the sea bottom.
Well, she said to herself, I think I’ve had enough of piracy for now. I need a nice, safe place to work on spells, so I can create Dexter’s debilitation, so if he comes after me I have a defense. Some money, maybe some servants...
Delilah, mind always racing, turned upslope.
Well, folks, that’s the ‘first cycle’ of Cydra: the Early Years. I don’t know yet if I’ll keep this thread going (perhaps following Dexter’s band) or switch to some other earlier adventures in a new thread, or neither, or both... I guess we’ll see! But this closes out the first major story arc in Cydra. I hope you enjoyed it!
Knightfall
World of Kulan DM
Clap! Clap! Clap!
Enjoyed it all very much.
KF72
Enjoyed it all very much.
KF72
the Jester
Legend
the Jester
Legend
Just a bump for Cydra readers who might be interested in said polls.
the Jester
Legend
Sandain said:
Go to page 2 of this thread and scroll down a few posts...
