ForceUser's Vietnamese Adventures Story Hour! (finis)
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"I wish the ground were mushy and soft."
Vymair
First Post
I've been playing with ForceUser and Hjorimir for about 2 years now and I have to say, this trap caught us totally off-guard. The two of them tend not to use many traps in their dungeons, so this one was extremely effective....
From here on out, we went into full paranoia mode about any suspicious looking spot...
From here on out, we went into full paranoia mode about any suspicious looking spot...
Great googly-moogly ForceUser!
I took a look at this thread when it first began, and hadn't had a chance to keep up with it. Boy was that dumb, because now that I have caught up I'm kicking myself for not doing so sooner.
This story hour is great (like Tony the Tiger "Grrrrreat!").
Keep up the good work!
I took a look at this thread when it first began, and hadn't had a chance to keep up with it. Boy was that dumb, because now that I have caught up I'm kicking myself for not doing so sooner.
This story hour is great (like Tony the Tiger "Grrrrreat!").
Keep up the good work!
ForceUser
Explorer
Session Three, Part Eight
MAI FELL in total darkness. She flailed as fulsome air whipped around her, arms and legs lashing out for purchase, for anything. She strained to see beyond the biting wind that brought painful tears, and failed. She plummeted into a great black hole, a maw of decrepit evil that swallowed her utterly. She knew, somehow, that the ground rushed up below; she knew each moment was prelude to her last. She screamed in terror, but the sound ripped away into the great rush of rancid wind around her. The unseen floor loomed, and with her final frantic thoughts, she remembered the smiling image of her parents. Then pain consumed her.
She awoke with a start.
Only a dream, she reassured herself bleakly, it was only a dream.
She lay in her bedroll on the damp, pungent soil at the bottom of the pit. Around her sat her companions, the ones who had survived the fall. Tran smiled from where he was sitting, one hand holding aloft a torch, the other cradling his guts as they sprawled out of his shattered torso. “Hello, Mai,” he said, “nice to see you made it too.” Woo, leaning against the far wall, turned and nodded in silent assent. He would have spoken, but the fall had caved in his skull, shattering his jaw. It hung half off his face, but he gazed at Mai with his remaining eye. It twinkled red in the ruddy light from Tran’s torch. Detachedly, she noted the gray matter scattered down the side of Woo’s now crescent-shaped head, piling on his shoulder. Hien, who had not fallen victim to the bridge trap, sat next to Vinh, tending his wound. A six-foot rusted polearm haft thrust from the no-sheng’s chest cavity, and Hien worked it out slowly, grunting with the effort as rusted steel ground against bone. Vinh didn’t seem to mind. He nodded at Mai reassuringly. “It’ll be okay,” he said to her, “I think we’re going to pull through. Poor Tam, though. I don’t know how we’re going to patch him up.”
Mai looked where he gestured. The remains of the old wizard lay at the edge of the firelight in a misshapen mass of blood and gore. Gobbets of flesh radiated away from the pulverized corpse like a grisly corona. An eye, loose from the skull and lying atop the remains of a hand, swiveled and glanced at her. Revulsion swept over Mai then, and bile rose in her throat as she scrabbled back from the grotesque panorama of her fatally injured friends. She crawled into the corner behind her, overwhelmed with a fright so profound she could not vocalize it. Oblivious, her dead companions continued their mockery of movement, until Vinh, the spear now removed, shambled over to her and squatted. He reached out, grabbed her shoulder, and squeezed. “Mai,” he said, “we’re here for you.”
She screamed.
Hands covered her mouth then, and someone gripped her tightly. “Mai! Mai! Sshhh! It’s only a dream! Mai! Be calm!” She awoke. Tran held her in his arms, cradling her, and Woo’s hand clamped over her mouth, stifling her cries. The dark forms of her other companions loomed around her. Realization came then, of two days trapped in a fetid pit below a diabolical trap in a cursed temple amid forgotten, evil mountains. A reality as bad as her nightmares.
“Be silent,” the monk whispered harshly, “they are close.” She saw him lift his head then, black against black, a faint silhouette. Forty feet above, the outline of the accursed bridge loomed against the night sky.
Two days.
Two days of perpetual night, in which they had bided their time in the corpse-ridden pit, receiving paltry blessings of healing from Hien's patron spirits, keeping torches unlit, eating cold, stale bread, hearing the calls of the evil monkeys above, and scanning the open roof for any sign of assault. But luck (such as it was) had been with them; the monkeys, ironically, seemed to fear the smell of death, and would not descend into the pit among the corpses of the long forgotten. They avoided the bridge as well, using the dead vines anchored to the façade to swing across the opening.
The fall had been brutal. Tam broke both legs on impact, and Tran fractured his collarbone and skull on the hard earth. Both would have died had it not been for the quick ministrations of the others. Woo had rolled with some of the blow, like he had learned in school, but the fall was just too much; he broke a leg and ruptured something internally. Even now, he coughed up blood. Lei’s nose had bled for several hours, even after the spirits’ healing. Hien had finally had him lie back while he administered herbs that clotted the flow. This is a potent plant, he had worried, it could cause more harm than good. Luckily, it hadn’t.
“Tomorrow,” said Hien, “I think we will be ready tomorrow. The spirits have restored us almost fully.” Hien wondered how Sca and Hirkai fared. The fox and the eagle would not approach the temple, and he was fairly certain they had fled the nightfall cyst as well. Probably best, he sighed. They spent the rest of the day (they were fairly certain it was day) hacking up dried vines to use as torches. They had decided that they’d need many torches within the temple, far more than they had brought.
Vinh had asked them if they wanted to go on. What choice have we? Woo had replied, We likely cannot escape Phau Dong valley as long as this Monkey Woman reigns. We must end this. Grim logic, and no one had argued.
After a final fitful night spent sleeping at the bottom of the pit, the party awoke and began to climb out. Woo scampered up the temple-side face like a spider, and to his chagrin, discovered a forty-foot long scaling ladder tucked behind a pillar in the massive foyer. He quickly maneuvered the ladder into the pit, and the others were up shortly afterward.
“Torches,” called Lei, and they lit a small forest of ruddy orange flames. Tam retrieved a sunrod from his pack and struck it on the ground; an incandescent, merry glow sprung forth, momentarily blinding everyone. After three days in dank darkness, they took several minutes to readjust to the presence of light.
Torch in hand, Mai cautiously approached the near side of the bridge and squatted to examine it. A pressure plate. So obvious. She sighed and pulled some tools out of her pack. Using an old rusted sword-blade she’d found in the pit below, she jammed the trigger mechanism. “I fixed it,” she called to the others, “the bridge won’t flip anymore.” Woo trotted over to examine her work. He looked, then grunted, “I’m still using the ladder to get back across when we leave.”
Mai glanced at him. “Maybe I should keep an eye out for more of these traps,” she said. Woo stared at the rogue incredulously, and his jaw worked reflexively as he struggled for something to say. “Good idea!” he replied, injecting as much biting sarcasm as he could muster. Mai flinched. He waved his hand at her, exasperated, and trotted over to talk with Vinh.
After a few more minutes, they began to explore the temple interior. The cavernous room they were in extended far beyond the glow of their torches, but they could discern that it was rectangular and multi-tiered, with a tall, vaulted ceiling supported by two rows of large, circular pillars. Depicted on the pillars were strange scenes – battles, weddings, and games of some sort. The people wore elaborate garb and stood in awkward, two-dimensional poses.
“Gah,” said Tran. He smeared something onto the stone floor with his foot. Monkey dung. Fresh.
They followed the left wall of the foyer until the night sky behind them disappeared. The calls of the monkeys from within sounded closer now, but the echoes in the room made it difficult to discern their point of origination.
“There’s a ladder here,” announced Vinh, and they looked. Another scaling ladder stood propped against the near wall, ascending into darkness. “Let’s go up and have a look,“ said Woo. The others nodded, and Vinh replied, “I’ll hold the ladder. It doesn’t look sturdy.” The monk placed his torch in his mouth before deftly climbing the ladder. Forty feet up, he hopped onto a stone ledge. He shone the torch around and discovered that the pillars below supported it. Ten feet wide, it skirted the walls of the foyer. Beyond the edge it dropped to the floor four stories below. The air up here smelled of wet rot. He shouted down, “It’s a ledge. Appears to be clear.” Lei nodded and proceeded up after him, followed by Mai.
When Mai arrived, Woo said, “There’s a ladder up here. Look.”
Indeed there was. The ceiling of this upper level was surprisingly made of wood, not stone, suggesting another floor above with a wooden deck. At the edge of Woo's torchlight stood a sturdy wooden ladder bolted to the floor and ceiling. At the top of the ladder was a trapdoor.
“Well?” said Woo, “Go check it out.”
Mai nodded and began to sweat.
MAI FELL in total darkness. She flailed as fulsome air whipped around her, arms and legs lashing out for purchase, for anything. She strained to see beyond the biting wind that brought painful tears, and failed. She plummeted into a great black hole, a maw of decrepit evil that swallowed her utterly. She knew, somehow, that the ground rushed up below; she knew each moment was prelude to her last. She screamed in terror, but the sound ripped away into the great rush of rancid wind around her. The unseen floor loomed, and with her final frantic thoughts, she remembered the smiling image of her parents. Then pain consumed her.
She awoke with a start.
Only a dream, she reassured herself bleakly, it was only a dream.
She lay in her bedroll on the damp, pungent soil at the bottom of the pit. Around her sat her companions, the ones who had survived the fall. Tran smiled from where he was sitting, one hand holding aloft a torch, the other cradling his guts as they sprawled out of his shattered torso. “Hello, Mai,” he said, “nice to see you made it too.” Woo, leaning against the far wall, turned and nodded in silent assent. He would have spoken, but the fall had caved in his skull, shattering his jaw. It hung half off his face, but he gazed at Mai with his remaining eye. It twinkled red in the ruddy light from Tran’s torch. Detachedly, she noted the gray matter scattered down the side of Woo’s now crescent-shaped head, piling on his shoulder. Hien, who had not fallen victim to the bridge trap, sat next to Vinh, tending his wound. A six-foot rusted polearm haft thrust from the no-sheng’s chest cavity, and Hien worked it out slowly, grunting with the effort as rusted steel ground against bone. Vinh didn’t seem to mind. He nodded at Mai reassuringly. “It’ll be okay,” he said to her, “I think we’re going to pull through. Poor Tam, though. I don’t know how we’re going to patch him up.”
Mai looked where he gestured. The remains of the old wizard lay at the edge of the firelight in a misshapen mass of blood and gore. Gobbets of flesh radiated away from the pulverized corpse like a grisly corona. An eye, loose from the skull and lying atop the remains of a hand, swiveled and glanced at her. Revulsion swept over Mai then, and bile rose in her throat as she scrabbled back from the grotesque panorama of her fatally injured friends. She crawled into the corner behind her, overwhelmed with a fright so profound she could not vocalize it. Oblivious, her dead companions continued their mockery of movement, until Vinh, the spear now removed, shambled over to her and squatted. He reached out, grabbed her shoulder, and squeezed. “Mai,” he said, “we’re here for you.”
She screamed.
Hands covered her mouth then, and someone gripped her tightly. “Mai! Mai! Sshhh! It’s only a dream! Mai! Be calm!” She awoke. Tran held her in his arms, cradling her, and Woo’s hand clamped over her mouth, stifling her cries. The dark forms of her other companions loomed around her. Realization came then, of two days trapped in a fetid pit below a diabolical trap in a cursed temple amid forgotten, evil mountains. A reality as bad as her nightmares.
“Be silent,” the monk whispered harshly, “they are close.” She saw him lift his head then, black against black, a faint silhouette. Forty feet above, the outline of the accursed bridge loomed against the night sky.
Two days.
Two days of perpetual night, in which they had bided their time in the corpse-ridden pit, receiving paltry blessings of healing from Hien's patron spirits, keeping torches unlit, eating cold, stale bread, hearing the calls of the evil monkeys above, and scanning the open roof for any sign of assault. But luck (such as it was) had been with them; the monkeys, ironically, seemed to fear the smell of death, and would not descend into the pit among the corpses of the long forgotten. They avoided the bridge as well, using the dead vines anchored to the façade to swing across the opening.
The fall had been brutal. Tam broke both legs on impact, and Tran fractured his collarbone and skull on the hard earth. Both would have died had it not been for the quick ministrations of the others. Woo had rolled with some of the blow, like he had learned in school, but the fall was just too much; he broke a leg and ruptured something internally. Even now, he coughed up blood. Lei’s nose had bled for several hours, even after the spirits’ healing. Hien had finally had him lie back while he administered herbs that clotted the flow. This is a potent plant, he had worried, it could cause more harm than good. Luckily, it hadn’t.
“Tomorrow,” said Hien, “I think we will be ready tomorrow. The spirits have restored us almost fully.” Hien wondered how Sca and Hirkai fared. The fox and the eagle would not approach the temple, and he was fairly certain they had fled the nightfall cyst as well. Probably best, he sighed. They spent the rest of the day (they were fairly certain it was day) hacking up dried vines to use as torches. They had decided that they’d need many torches within the temple, far more than they had brought.
Vinh had asked them if they wanted to go on. What choice have we? Woo had replied, We likely cannot escape Phau Dong valley as long as this Monkey Woman reigns. We must end this. Grim logic, and no one had argued.
After a final fitful night spent sleeping at the bottom of the pit, the party awoke and began to climb out. Woo scampered up the temple-side face like a spider, and to his chagrin, discovered a forty-foot long scaling ladder tucked behind a pillar in the massive foyer. He quickly maneuvered the ladder into the pit, and the others were up shortly afterward.
“Torches,” called Lei, and they lit a small forest of ruddy orange flames. Tam retrieved a sunrod from his pack and struck it on the ground; an incandescent, merry glow sprung forth, momentarily blinding everyone. After three days in dank darkness, they took several minutes to readjust to the presence of light.
Torch in hand, Mai cautiously approached the near side of the bridge and squatted to examine it. A pressure plate. So obvious. She sighed and pulled some tools out of her pack. Using an old rusted sword-blade she’d found in the pit below, she jammed the trigger mechanism. “I fixed it,” she called to the others, “the bridge won’t flip anymore.” Woo trotted over to examine her work. He looked, then grunted, “I’m still using the ladder to get back across when we leave.”
Mai glanced at him. “Maybe I should keep an eye out for more of these traps,” she said. Woo stared at the rogue incredulously, and his jaw worked reflexively as he struggled for something to say. “Good idea!” he replied, injecting as much biting sarcasm as he could muster. Mai flinched. He waved his hand at her, exasperated, and trotted over to talk with Vinh.
After a few more minutes, they began to explore the temple interior. The cavernous room they were in extended far beyond the glow of their torches, but they could discern that it was rectangular and multi-tiered, with a tall, vaulted ceiling supported by two rows of large, circular pillars. Depicted on the pillars were strange scenes – battles, weddings, and games of some sort. The people wore elaborate garb and stood in awkward, two-dimensional poses.
“Gah,” said Tran. He smeared something onto the stone floor with his foot. Monkey dung. Fresh.
They followed the left wall of the foyer until the night sky behind them disappeared. The calls of the monkeys from within sounded closer now, but the echoes in the room made it difficult to discern their point of origination.
“There’s a ladder here,” announced Vinh, and they looked. Another scaling ladder stood propped against the near wall, ascending into darkness. “Let’s go up and have a look,“ said Woo. The others nodded, and Vinh replied, “I’ll hold the ladder. It doesn’t look sturdy.” The monk placed his torch in his mouth before deftly climbing the ladder. Forty feet up, he hopped onto a stone ledge. He shone the torch around and discovered that the pillars below supported it. Ten feet wide, it skirted the walls of the foyer. Beyond the edge it dropped to the floor four stories below. The air up here smelled of wet rot. He shouted down, “It’s a ledge. Appears to be clear.” Lei nodded and proceeded up after him, followed by Mai.
When Mai arrived, Woo said, “There’s a ladder up here. Look.”
Indeed there was. The ceiling of this upper level was surprisingly made of wood, not stone, suggesting another floor above with a wooden deck. At the edge of Woo's torchlight stood a sturdy wooden ladder bolted to the floor and ceiling. At the top of the ladder was a trapdoor.
“Well?” said Woo, “Go check it out.”
Mai nodded and began to sweat.
ForceUser
Explorer
Session Three, Part Nine
BELOW, VINH tensed as the hairs rose on the back of his neck. Something lurked beyond the torchlight in the vaulted foyer. “Hien,” called the temple warrior, “hold the ladder.” The young shaman stepped forward and grasped it firmly. Sensing Vinh’s posture, Tran drew his sword. Tam took a step back and flexed his fingers.
Shadows moved at the edge of the ruddy light. Vinh strode up and confirmed his guess: monkeys again, and aberrant ones at that. He dropped into the ready stance, his kama-do thrust out before him, in time to catch their screeching charge. Feeling the flow of energy around him, he relaxed his vision and extended his other senses. Forms darted around him, and he lashed out. There. There. There. There. The others watched in rapt appreciation as he twirled his polearm as though it weighed no more than a blade of grass. Four strokes, and four monkeys dropped dead.
More yet came. Vinh stepped back, cleaving another as it tried to dart through his zone of control. Above, Lei, Woo and Mai heard the combat, and Lei peered over the ledge and spied the action below. Removing his chakram from his belt, he hefted it before letting it fly. The razor-sharp disc whizzed through the air, but the angle was bad and the target was small, so it hit the stone floor in a shower of sparks before rolling out of the circle of the torchlight. Lei grumbled. Woo turned to shimmy down the ladder, but stopped short as he saw a dog-sized rat scurry out of the darkness behind Mai. “Look out!” he shouted, drawing his jiann and dashing in front of the thief. Mai, for her part, reacted quickly, unsheathing her duan jian, twirling, and crouching in a defensive stance in a single fluid motion. Woo swung twice at the creature and missed.
Below, Tam cast a spell. A familiar sound pulsed out, low and gruesome, and the incorporeal heart blazed in sickly green fire once again. The dozen or so monkeys now lit by its appalling glow fled in fear, and the wu jen gestured contemptuously, sending the figment blazing around the room in a broad swoop.
One level up, Lei drew his scimitar and advanced on the dire rat. Before he could strike, it hissed at Woo and lashed out with yellow fangs, tearing a long gash in his robe. While the monk distracted it, Mai tumbled behind the vermin and jabbed hard, viciously sliding her sword to the hilt between its ribs. The rat convulsed and died. Woo arched an eyebrow at her, then jogged to the ladder and squatted next to the opening. He found Hien looking up at him. “They’re gone,” said the shaman. The monk nodded in return and stood. “There’s another ladder up here,” he called, “Appears to lead to a third floor. Climb up.”
In short order the entire party stood on the second-floor landing. Tam concerned himself with maintaining his necromantic illusion, which the others pointedly ignored. Instead, they examined the ladder. It stood vertically between the second and (presumably) third levels. It was sturdy and functional, carved of solid pine, and secured to both the ceiling and floor with rugged iron bolts. Seeing nothing out of the ordinary about it after a cursory inspection, Mai began to climb. When she grabbed the last rung at the top, however, disaster struck. Instead of pulling herself up by the rung, the rung released and collapsed downward. The trigger mechanism sprung, Mai felt a horrible sinking in her gut as the false floor beneath the ladder gave way and girl, ladder, and flotsam plunged forty feet to the cold stone floor below.
Devoid of conscious thought, Woo sprung forward in a desperate bid to save the hapless rogue, and cried out in frustration as her ao dai slipped through his fingers like silk. He watched as she impacted below with a clatter of wood and a sickening wet crunch. As the others stood frozen in shock, he ran to the opening and slid down the ladder. Landing with a grimace, the monk rushed to her side, slipping in the already-spreading pool of blood.
Mai lay in a crumpled heap as her life oozed out in a puddle onto the temple flagstones. Woo cradled her, and felt a warm, soft stickiness on the back of her head. Moving swiftly, sweat rained from his brow as he violently tore a strip of cloth from his tattered robe and wrapped it around her head. He moved on to her leg, pushing a white bone fragment back under her skin, and pressed both palms on the awful injury, applying pressure. You will not die. You will not die. You will not die, ran the mantra through his head. So focused was he on his task, he did not hear the clamber of steps behind him. But he felt a rush of…wind...energy...something in his soul, as Hien called down the spirits’ healing upon Mai’s broken form. Bones knitted, wounds closed, and the pallor of death faded from her skin.
Hien patted the monk on the shoulder. “Good work,” he said, “She may have died before I arrived had it not been for you.” Woo nodded, suddenly weary, and stood to distance himself from Mai, who was waking up. The others were looking at him, but he refused to meet their gazes.
Mai opened her eyes and discovered that she was lying in her own blood. Panicking, she sat up and hugged herself. Hien knelt beside her, with the others arrayed behind him, guarding their backs. “You’re okay now,” he said, “the spirits have healed you.” Relief came with understanding, and she stood. Something wrapped around her head, and she took it off to examine it. A strip of blue cloth. She noticed a jagged tear in Woo’s robe. “You should be more careful,” huffed the monk as he walked back toward the ladder. As he left the circle of light, he railed against the darkness, “Who would build such a thing?!” Echoes were his only reply.
Vinh watched his friend walk away, then turned to Mai, “In the future, take all the time you need to search for booby traps. We’re in no hurry. We don’t need to fall victim to these devices anymore.” He squeezed her shoulder warmly – a jarringly familiar gesture from her troubled dreams – and walked over to join Woo. Despite her miraculous recovery, Mai felt dizzy and ill. Her head swam with her recent near-sojourn into the afterlife. Hien, solicitous as ever, stayed with her as they made their way back upstairs. Lei paused to retrieve his chakram, and so was the last person back up the ladder.
Twenty minutes later, after having pored obsessively over the trapdoor, Mai nervously declared it free of any further devices, and Woo, propping up the forty-foot ladder they used to climb to this level, scaled it like a squirrel and wriggled into the chamber above the door.
It turned out to be a small storeroom. After rifling through it for several minutes, Woo discovered a magnificent crossbow of archaic and alien design, as well as seven loose bolts. He climbed back down and showed it to the others before handing it to Mai.
“Here,” he said gruffly, “you’ve earned it.”
BELOW, VINH tensed as the hairs rose on the back of his neck. Something lurked beyond the torchlight in the vaulted foyer. “Hien,” called the temple warrior, “hold the ladder.” The young shaman stepped forward and grasped it firmly. Sensing Vinh’s posture, Tran drew his sword. Tam took a step back and flexed his fingers.
Shadows moved at the edge of the ruddy light. Vinh strode up and confirmed his guess: monkeys again, and aberrant ones at that. He dropped into the ready stance, his kama-do thrust out before him, in time to catch their screeching charge. Feeling the flow of energy around him, he relaxed his vision and extended his other senses. Forms darted around him, and he lashed out. There. There. There. There. The others watched in rapt appreciation as he twirled his polearm as though it weighed no more than a blade of grass. Four strokes, and four monkeys dropped dead.
More yet came. Vinh stepped back, cleaving another as it tried to dart through his zone of control. Above, Lei, Woo and Mai heard the combat, and Lei peered over the ledge and spied the action below. Removing his chakram from his belt, he hefted it before letting it fly. The razor-sharp disc whizzed through the air, but the angle was bad and the target was small, so it hit the stone floor in a shower of sparks before rolling out of the circle of the torchlight. Lei grumbled. Woo turned to shimmy down the ladder, but stopped short as he saw a dog-sized rat scurry out of the darkness behind Mai. “Look out!” he shouted, drawing his jiann and dashing in front of the thief. Mai, for her part, reacted quickly, unsheathing her duan jian, twirling, and crouching in a defensive stance in a single fluid motion. Woo swung twice at the creature and missed.
Below, Tam cast a spell. A familiar sound pulsed out, low and gruesome, and the incorporeal heart blazed in sickly green fire once again. The dozen or so monkeys now lit by its appalling glow fled in fear, and the wu jen gestured contemptuously, sending the figment blazing around the room in a broad swoop.
One level up, Lei drew his scimitar and advanced on the dire rat. Before he could strike, it hissed at Woo and lashed out with yellow fangs, tearing a long gash in his robe. While the monk distracted it, Mai tumbled behind the vermin and jabbed hard, viciously sliding her sword to the hilt between its ribs. The rat convulsed and died. Woo arched an eyebrow at her, then jogged to the ladder and squatted next to the opening. He found Hien looking up at him. “They’re gone,” said the shaman. The monk nodded in return and stood. “There’s another ladder up here,” he called, “Appears to lead to a third floor. Climb up.”
In short order the entire party stood on the second-floor landing. Tam concerned himself with maintaining his necromantic illusion, which the others pointedly ignored. Instead, they examined the ladder. It stood vertically between the second and (presumably) third levels. It was sturdy and functional, carved of solid pine, and secured to both the ceiling and floor with rugged iron bolts. Seeing nothing out of the ordinary about it after a cursory inspection, Mai began to climb. When she grabbed the last rung at the top, however, disaster struck. Instead of pulling herself up by the rung, the rung released and collapsed downward. The trigger mechanism sprung, Mai felt a horrible sinking in her gut as the false floor beneath the ladder gave way and girl, ladder, and flotsam plunged forty feet to the cold stone floor below.
Devoid of conscious thought, Woo sprung forward in a desperate bid to save the hapless rogue, and cried out in frustration as her ao dai slipped through his fingers like silk. He watched as she impacted below with a clatter of wood and a sickening wet crunch. As the others stood frozen in shock, he ran to the opening and slid down the ladder. Landing with a grimace, the monk rushed to her side, slipping in the already-spreading pool of blood.
Mai lay in a crumpled heap as her life oozed out in a puddle onto the temple flagstones. Woo cradled her, and felt a warm, soft stickiness on the back of her head. Moving swiftly, sweat rained from his brow as he violently tore a strip of cloth from his tattered robe and wrapped it around her head. He moved on to her leg, pushing a white bone fragment back under her skin, and pressed both palms on the awful injury, applying pressure. You will not die. You will not die. You will not die, ran the mantra through his head. So focused was he on his task, he did not hear the clamber of steps behind him. But he felt a rush of…wind...energy...something in his soul, as Hien called down the spirits’ healing upon Mai’s broken form. Bones knitted, wounds closed, and the pallor of death faded from her skin.
Hien patted the monk on the shoulder. “Good work,” he said, “She may have died before I arrived had it not been for you.” Woo nodded, suddenly weary, and stood to distance himself from Mai, who was waking up. The others were looking at him, but he refused to meet their gazes.
Mai opened her eyes and discovered that she was lying in her own blood. Panicking, she sat up and hugged herself. Hien knelt beside her, with the others arrayed behind him, guarding their backs. “You’re okay now,” he said, “the spirits have healed you.” Relief came with understanding, and she stood. Something wrapped around her head, and she took it off to examine it. A strip of blue cloth. She noticed a jagged tear in Woo’s robe. “You should be more careful,” huffed the monk as he walked back toward the ladder. As he left the circle of light, he railed against the darkness, “Who would build such a thing?!” Echoes were his only reply.
Vinh watched his friend walk away, then turned to Mai, “In the future, take all the time you need to search for booby traps. We’re in no hurry. We don’t need to fall victim to these devices anymore.” He squeezed her shoulder warmly – a jarringly familiar gesture from her troubled dreams – and walked over to join Woo. Despite her miraculous recovery, Mai felt dizzy and ill. Her head swam with her recent near-sojourn into the afterlife. Hien, solicitous as ever, stayed with her as they made their way back upstairs. Lei paused to retrieve his chakram, and so was the last person back up the ladder.
Twenty minutes later, after having pored obsessively over the trapdoor, Mai nervously declared it free of any further devices, and Woo, propping up the forty-foot ladder they used to climb to this level, scaled it like a squirrel and wriggled into the chamber above the door.
It turned out to be a small storeroom. After rifling through it for several minutes, Woo discovered a magnificent crossbow of archaic and alien design, as well as seven loose bolts. He climbed back down and showed it to the others before handing it to Mai.
“Here,” he said gruffly, “you’ve earned it.”
Last edited:
Pelosan Emperor
First Post
Re: Session Three, Part Nine
This is the best description of multiple attacks from Combat Reflexes! As always, your descriptions are vivid enough that I can actually see the action!
Have you considered writing professionally?
ForceUser said:
This is the best description of multiple attacks from Combat Reflexes! As always, your descriptions are vivid enough that I can actually see the action!
Have you considered writing professionally?
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