DM Brainiac's Prison of the Firebringer (Updated 12/21/05)

[ltclnlbrain]

Terenon's back and he's kicking butt.. at least for the first round.. That last paragraph about Oftir was something that i didn't know before.. Nice touch.

How did you think the ice golems knew where to find you so quickly?

The adventurers actually encountered Oftir later on in the adventure, and I had planned for him to taunt them and reveal what he had done, but Jelani decided to use touch of idiocy on him before he could do so. So...yeah.

 

[ltclnlbrain]

Chapter 35

Latona was quite rural, backwater some might say, with little in the way of development. Its architectural style was one of function more than floweriness, and it was very blocky and efficient when compared to the graceful majesty of Silverymoon. The citizens, mostly human and halfling, moved about with a slow, almost lazy gait, as if they had all the time in the world.

Taigiel cast an apprehensive glance around, shifting uncomfortably. "I hope this disguise will be enough," he said. "This will be the first time I'll be able to walk openly through the streets of a city without leaving a trail of fear and scorn in my wake."

"Do not worry, Taigiel," Rumar said, waving a hand dismissively. "I find it unlikely that you will attract much attention. After all, what reason would the guards have to consider yet another random traveler? So long as you simply are careful and consider your actions first I am certain we will pull through just fine."

"Let us see if we can find somebody who might have news of the region," said Terenon.

"I'm going to see what shrines or temples are here," said Rhys. "Perhaps I'll be able to find out something there or just tend to any people who need some care."

"I think I'll go with you," said Jelani. Rhys and Allanon similarly voiced their assent.

"Alright," said Grundar. "Terenon and I will take Taigiel and see what we can find. We'll meet back here in two hours."

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The temple district of Latona was rather small and quaint, barely befitting the name of "district." A few blocks away from city hall stood the city's only two temples: the larger dedicated to Lathander, the Morninglord, and the other to Tyr, God of Justice. Each was of a decent size, though not many people lingered about them.

Rhys lead his companions into the temple of Tyr. The interior of the temple wais rather modest, and a few acolytes moved about the main chamber on various errands. Their inquiries were directed to a priestess by the name of Willema Undarn, a plain, stocky woman with graying hair and a stern expression. "How may I be of assistance?" she asked simply.

"Mistress Undarn," Rhys said warmly. "I'm Rhys Thurn, a priest of Torm, may his blessings help all in need. These with me are my good friends and valued compnions Allanon, Jelani, and Rumar. We've only arrived here but an short while ago. I'd like to ask you questions about Latona and the area around it, if you'd be so inclined."

Willema smiled politely and nodded at the adventurers. "I'll do my best to answer whatever I can."

"Well, truth be told, our primary concern is the white dragon Acessiwal. Do you know much about him?"

Willema frowned a bit. "I'm afraid not. I've heard the name mentioned a few times here and there. Supposed to be really big and mean, but we've not seen the likes of him around these parts. Perhaps a sage like Lasom the Large might know more."

"We will seek him out shortly then." Rhys paused a bit, frowning. A nagging sensation of doubt still tickled the back of his mind, doubt over Oftir. He felt compelled to follow up on his suspicions. "We met a group of travelers on the way here. Their spokesman, a man calling himself Oftir, said that they hailed from the other side of the Spine of the World. He said that they were coming here to start a new life. What stories could they have heard that would promt them to undertake such a hazardous journey?"

Willema looked a bit puzzled by the question. Rumar coughed with a little embarrassment at Rhys' question. Raising one finger in polite request for a moment from Willema, he moved over to Rhys and pulled him a few steps away.

"Perhaps you should stop being so blunt in your investigations of Oftir," he said quietly to the priest, a tipped smile resting on his face. "To be honest, we've yet to see any proof that he is remotely dangerous or evil. Don't you think it's slightly possible he's merely a wanderer? I mean, this town had to have been formed by precisely the same sort of people - those interested in merely putting as much distance between them and their old life."

"After all, the reverse would imply that he's some sort of terribly clever arch-villain with the ability to completely mask his true identity and the resources to set up such an elaborate and more than a little needlessly complicated plot. Not that I'm saying it's impossible," Rumar added reluctantly, "merely that it seems rather unlikely so far."

Rhys looked at Rumar for a long moment, then finally let out a sigh. "You're correct," he said at last before turning back to Willema. "Mistress, I apologize for my unjustified implications, and I thank you for your time. We will see what we can learn at the Temple of the Morninglord.

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Oftir nervously wiped at his greasy hair as he waited in the shadows of a building near the outskirts of the town. He had dropped the facade of the old missionary conjured by his magical hat, revealing a tall man with sunken eyes and craven features. He giggled to himself with excitement. Not only had me made contact with the great Acessiwal, the dragon had actually responded to him! It was almost too good to be true. The wyrm had told him to wait here to meet one of his agents, who would exchange the location of the adventurers for directions on how to get to Coldheart and join his new master in his demesne. So the Cyricist waited now for said agent to arrive.

A whisper of movement beside him startled him, and he nearly screamed in surprise as a beautiful half-elven woman seemed to materialize out of the shadows. The woman wore close-fitting black clothing and smiled slightly, her lips twitching in what Oftir took to be amusement. "You are Oftir?" she asked.

The priest struggled to regain his dignity. "Yes, yes, I am." He regarded her coolly, though his eyes were drawn to her physical assets. "You serve Acessiwal, then?"

"I serve many masters, as long as they can afford me," the woman replied. "But my only true loyalty is to myself." The half-elf's eyes bored into Oftir's, and the priest felt as if she were looking past them, probing his mind for answers to silent questions.

Oftir shook his head to clear his mind of the sensation, though it didn't make him feel better. This woman's presence was distinctly...odd, uncomfortable. "The adventurers split up upon entering Latona. Four of them went to the temple district, while the other three went to find information. The most knowledgeable person in town is a gnome named Lasom the Large, so they probably headed there."

The woman nodded. "Lasom's home is far from the center of town. Those there will be my first target. A contingent of ice golems is already on its way south, and they will keep those in the temple district busy until I can join them and finish the job." The woman's lips twitched again, her eyes alighting on Oftir's holy symbol. "You should rejoice. Many souls will be sent into Cyric's embrace this day."

Oftir snorted at the thought of one woman taking out seven powerful adventurers, but something in her steely gaze made him pause. A palpable aura of confidence and skill. Perhaps she was capable of the deed? "Who are you?" he whispered.

"I am death," the woman replied, and her form began to turn blurry and insubstantial. "I am nightmare," she continued as her features flowed like water, muscles stretching and growing. Her skin turn a sickly mauve color, and four tentacles sprouted from the face. Oftir yelped in surprise but could not move, paralyzed by the horror of the grotesque transformation. He cowered before the woman's true form, a creature he had only heard about in bard's tales: an illithid. The aberration's tentacles writhed as a telepathic voice sent four words into his mind that chilled him to the core.

I am Yarrick Zan.

 

[ltclnlbrain]

Chapter 36

Across town, Grundar, Terenon, and Taigiel had found their way to the residence of one Lasom the Large, a gnome scholar and sage. He kept a rather extensive private historical reference library, and he kept tabs on the area more than most people, so he would undoubtedly be the best source of information in Latona.

Terenon's knock on the scholar's door was answer by a gnome with shoulder-length blonde hair, a goatee, and crystal blue eyes. He was clad in winter wolf furs and looked up at the three visitors with interest.

"Out-of-towners, eh? We don't get too many of your kind around these parts. My name's Lasom: how may I be of assistance?"

"Grettings Lasom," Terenon replied, bowing slightly. "I am Terenon. We have been told you are the man to see regarding information, news and history of the region."

Lasom smiled. "Indeed, I know many things about the lands around Latona. Come in, won't you? I won't have my guests freeze to death when a warm fire is but a few feet away!"

The gnome ushered the three into his home. Each wall was lined with a bookshelf that stretched from floor to ceiling, chock full of tomes and grimoires of all shapes and sizes. Lasom lead them into a sitting room where a crackling fire roared in a fireplace and offered them some wine, then settled into a plush, oversized chair.

"Information, news, and history. Is there anything specific you are interested in? I could talk for hours on the Spine of the World, the plains around Latona, the Mect Cliffs far to the north. I could talk about the founding of the city, the battles we have fought to keep it running, the struggle to survive in the frozen wastelands. Or I could tell you about the great wyrm Acessiwal the White."

Grundar's ears perked up at the mention of the wyrm and he leaned forward with interest. "What do you know of Acessiwal?"

"Ah, Acessiwal," said Lasom. "I have heard and read many stories about confrontations with him over the centuries. The great dragon slew all but a few of his would-be hunters in the past hundred years. Many of them I met before they set off on their fool's quest to the north. A few of the older legends tell of heroes who managed to drive off the dragon, however. Indeed, an ancient song makes sport of 'Acessiwal the Yellow,' a cowardly beast of the north. Of course, each time the wyrm was driven off, he always found a new place to make his lair."

"He will not flee this time," Taigiel whispered icily, his eyes twin pools of flame. "He will die at the ends of my blades, and I will know peace."

"Acessiwal is cowardly?" Terenon asked, a little loudly to draw attention from Taigiel's statement. "That's not the impression we've had of late. Is he of arcane accomplishment? We've heard that he has ice golems to do his bdiding. He has almost decimated the frost giants in this region and they are little more than shadows of thier former strength. Hardly fits with the name of 'Acessiwal the Yellow.'"

Lasom shrugged. "I am merely a collector of tales; I cannot attest to their veracity. The one song that makes fun of Acessiwal is quite ancient, and things may have changed over the intervening centuries. There is not much information available on Acessiwal specifically, but from what I know about dragons, the older ones are quite proficient with the arcane arts. I've never seen an ice golem before, but I'm sure its possible that he commands such things."

Grundar was only listening half-heartedly. One hand slid into a pocket where he fiddled with a gold coin. He wished he had gone with the others to the temples instead sitting around in this dusty library.

Terenon mulled over Lasom 's answers with a bit of disappointment. Perhaps another line of questioning was in order. The mage began again. "Lasom, I would guess you know what intteligent creatures dwell in the area. If someone we're interested in gathering an army, what indigenous species would he choose from. Could be humanoids, barbarians, or something I haven't even thought of."

"An army?" asked Lasom, eyeing Terenon dubiously. "The most prevalent creatures in the area are the frost giants, though their tribes are scattered far and wide across the tundra and have not seen real organization for years. We also see the occasional group of orcs, ogres, or trolls, but usually nothing too serious. Besides the mastodon herds and the winter wolf packs, there isn't really much else out there."

"What do you know of the Mect cliffs to the north?" asked Grundar. "What kind of creatures inhabit that area? Have there been any recent news coming from that area?" he asked, hoping that Lasom might provide something interesting.

"The Mect Cliffs are a dangerous place; no sane person ventures near them and lives long," says Lasom. "They are inhabited by the normal beasts of the tundra. Frost worms, remorhaz, mastodons. Every so often, a younger white dragon is spotted flying about, and recently scouts have been reporting sightings of swarms of small, white, bat-winged creatures flying about. You would do well to stay away from them if you wish to remain safe. Latona is the furthest bastion of civilization in the north, so you will be on your own after you venture outside its walls."

Well this fountain of knowlege is dry, thought Terenon. What could the dragon possibly use as an army if the most prevalent possibility has been crushed by said army. Damn. I should have questioned the giants about what they had fought.

"Thank you for your time, Lasom. I need some time to think." The mage stood, and Grundar followed behind him.

"I will join you shortly," said Taigiel. "There is more I would know about my fa--about Acessiwal."

"We'll yell if we need you," said Terenon, winking.

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Grundar sighed heavily, the winter wind whipping at his clothes. A few yards away, Terenon stood with his back to the elf, lost in his thoughts. Grundar was not a mind-reader, but he could guess what his friend was thinking, pretty much the same thing he was. Lasom's information didn't really tell them anything they didn't know already. Forewarned was forearmed, and right now he felt as if they were about to plunge into the unknown weaponless.

A new chill fell over him, though, that had nothing to do with the cold. Somebody was behind him. No, something.

A thought that was entirely not his own entered his mind then. This is strictly business. Nothing personal.

Before the elf could do anything, a thick, slimy appendage wrapped around his neck. There was a sickening snap, and then the elf thought no more.

 

[kanithardm]

I read it all in an hour and a half. Amazing, simply amazing.

 

[ltclnlbrain]

I find it kind of amusing that your signature was longer than your actual post.

Thanks for your kind words. <modest>I do what I can.</modest> We've still got a long way to go, so keep reading; I'll try to keep the updates coming on a semi-regular basis.

 

[kanithardm]

What's wrong with a big signature?

 

[ltclnlbrain]

I didn't say anything was wrong, I just found it amusing. No offense meant.

 

[kanithardm]

I didn't say anything was wrong, I just found it amusing. No offense meant.

None taken.

 

[kanithardm]

Bump

I honor of Elan I shall bump in song.

eh hem..

Bump, Bump, bump the thread back to the first page.

 

[ltclnlbrain]

Sweet, thanks for the sing-a-long bump. In other news, I've started another story hour based on my Age of Worms game at PBW. You can check it out here. And now an update...I think I'm doing pretty well with this once-a-week deal.

Chapter 37

Terenon looked over in shock as Grundar’s neck suddenly snapped with a sickening sound. The elf’s head lolled at an unnatural angle, but he did not fall, supported by some unseen force. He knew his friend was dead, and there was nothing he could do to save him. The mage's instinct for survival overwhelmed him. He was not about to suffer the same fate if he could help it. Quickly casting a spell, he conjured a wall of force. The hemisphere of force surrounded him, leaving no room for a being larger than himself room to teleport in.

As he watched, there was a gory sucking noise and suddenly the back of Grundar's skull dissolved. His brain began to flow out of the skull, disappearing at a point somewhere behind the elf. Once it was all gone, the body dropped to the ground.

Shocked and horrified, Terenon begans casting another spell to reveal his attacker. As he did, he felt a heavy tentacle slap him upside the temple with bone-crushing force. It tried to grab a hold of the mage, but luckily he squirmed out of its grasp and, maintaining concentration, completed the spell. Before him, nestled inside the sphere of force next to him, was a mind flayer.

“Yarrick Zan!” the mage cried.

Zan spared no time for words, lashing out with his tentacles and pummelling Terenon’s head. The wizard reeled, seeing stars, and the illithid wrapped two of its writhing tentacles around his head and held Terenon against its body with its arms.

Terenon was terrified. He hadn't expected to see Zan, and was almost sure that he would die. From what he had learned the, illithid specialized in killing mages, and obviously was able to bypass things like the wall of force. He stil had a few tricks up his sleeve. He would be dead soon, but he wouldn't go down without a fight. Without a word or gesture, three rays of scorching heat lanced from his body to strike the mind flayer. A mental flash of pain washed over the mage, but the assassin held firm to its grip, snaking its other two tentacles around Terenon’s head.

The commotion had not gone unnoticed. The door to Lasom’s house swung open as the gnome and Taigiel raced out. “Garl’s garnets!” Lasom cried, gaping at Grundar’s body and the pained and contorted countenance of Terenon. “Terenon!” bellowed Taigiel. The dragon took up his mighty bow and sent an arrow at the mage’s invisible assailant. However, the projectile shattered harmlessly against the wall of force. Terenon’s defensive tactic had sealed his own doom.

Do not take this personally. the illithid telepathically told Terenon. This is strictly business. The struggle will be over soon..

“The hell it will!” the mage managed as he flailed about, panic growing as the remaining seconds of his life ticked away. He mentally triggered another spell he had prepared to be cast without words or gestures. A wave of confusion washed over Yarrick Zan’s mind, but it broke upon the shore of its will, dissipating harmlessly. The illithid communicated the mental equivalent of a smirk, and Terenon barely had time to wail in dismay before there was a horrific cracking sensation at the base of his skull, and then only blackness.

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“Terenon!”

Taigiel watched in horror as the back of the wizard’s skull suddenly caved in, and his brain began flowing out in chunks. He ran up to the wall of force, pounding futilely on it, but there was nothing he could do to get through. All he could do was watch as the mage’s body collapsed into the slowly reddening snow.

The half-dragon snarled as he whirled on Lasom, the gnome still too stunned to move. “Alert the guards! There is an assassin loose in the city!” The small sage hesitated only a moment before scurrying off into the city, crying out for the guards.

Assassination was a dishonorable, underhanded tactic, and the son of Acessiwal had no doubts in his mind as to who was behind it. If not his father, then the vile mage he kept for a pet. The others were in danger. He had to warn them.

A flicker of magic in the air signalled the expiration of the wall of force. Taigiel quickly gathered up Grundar’s and Terenon’s bodies and set off at a run.

He found the rest of the party halfway to the temple district. Four pairs of eyes widened in horror as Taigiel approached with his grisly cargo.

“What happened?” Rumar demanded.

“Assassin,” Taigiel grunted. “And he’s still on the loose.”

Any further reply was cut off by the crunching of snow from the end of the street. Two towering ice golems rounded the corner, the sunlight glinting off their polished skull-like heads. As the party turned to face them, another noise sounded from behind them, and a quick glance confirmed that two more ice golems approached from that direction, effectively trapping them.

“This is bad,” said Allanon unnecessarily.