Grummok, Gargoyle Assassin (Updated 2/26/04) Epic Grummok 3.5

[BLACKDIRGE]

Sorry for the delay in posting, this installment has gotten kind of long. I have posted the first half of it here and will post the next half tomorrow.

Dirge

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Weapon Master Blues: Part I

Grummok (age 62): Male Gargoyle Rog 4/Asn4; CR 12; Medium Magical Beast; HD 4d10+8d6+72; hp 126; Init +8; Spd 45 ft., fly 75 ft. (good); AC 25 (+4 Dex, +4 natural, +5 studded leather armor, +2 ring); Atk +16 melee (1d4+6/19-20 x2, 2 claws), +12 melee (1d6+2, bite), +12 melee (1d6+2 gore) or +17/+12 melee (1d4+7/19-20 x2, +3 fleshgrinding dagger); SA sneak attack +4d6, death attack, poison use; SQ darkvision 60 ft., uncanny dodge, +2 saves vs. poison (Dex to AC, can’t be flanked), DR 15/+1, freeze, evasion; AL NE; SV Fort +14, Ref +16, Will +6; Str 18, Dex 18, Con 22, Int 17, Wis 12, Cha 12.
Skills (90 pts): Bluff +6, Craft (poison making) +8, Disguise +10, Escape Artist +10, Gather Information +8, Hide +27, Intimidate +5, Listen +10, Move Silently +22, Open Lock +10, Search +9, Spot +10, Tumble +5.
Feats: Multiattack, Weapon Finesse (claw, bite, gore), Exotic Weapon Proficiency (garrote), Improved Initiative, Improved Critical (claws)
Languages: Undercommon, Terran, Drow
Possessions: +2 shadowed studded leather armor, boots of elvenkind, wire garrote, ring of magic fang +2, belt of giant strength +4, +3 fleshgrinding dagger, +2 dagger, ring of protection +2, head band of intellect +2
Assassin Spells Prepared: (2/2; save DC 13 + spell level): 1st -- change self, angry ache. 2nd – alter self, darkness

Freeze (Ex): Grummok can hold himself so still that he appears to be a statue. An observer must succeed at a Spot check (DC 20) to notice Grummok is really alive.

Evasion (Ex): If exposed to any effect that normally allows a character to attempt a Reflex saving throw for half damage, Grummok takes no damage with a successful saving throw.

Death Attack: If Grummok studies his victim for 3 rounds and then makes a sneak attack within the next 3 rounds with a melee weapon that successfully deals damage, the sneak attack may also paralyze or kill the target (Grummok's choice). A victim who fails his or her Fortitude saving throw (DC 17) against the kill effect dies. If the saving throw fails against the paralysis, the victim's mind and body become enervated, making him or her completely helpless and unable to act for 1d6+1 rounds.

Poison Use: Grummok is trained in the use of poison and never risks accidentally poisoning himself when applying poison to a blade.

Grummok has begun his own personal Jihad on the followers of Baalzebul. With the blessing of his guild master, and through him the reigning clergy of Lolth, the gargoyle assassin has hunted and slain over half a dozen cultists. The followers of the archfiend could not, of course, retaliate openly as their faith is strictly forbidden in the drow city of Erelhei-Cinlu. This fact coupled with the blessing of the clergy of Lolth has allowed Grummok to operate completely unhindered.

Aided by a list of names and locations of suspected worshipers of Baalzebul, Grummok has been able to systematically track down and slay individual members of the cult with ease. The gargoyle found that most of the cult members were relatively weak individuals frantically scrabbling to increase their power and station. Grummok made short work of these ineffectual buffoons.

Between his hunts for followers of the archfiend, Grummok has continued to take assignments and his contracts have become much more profitable and consequentially much more dangerous. It was on the eve of Grummok's 61st name day that he received his most prestigious and dangerous contract yet. The clergy of Lolth were very displeased with the actions of Azakai Tormtor, weapon master of the ruling house of Erelhei-Cinlu. The clergy would not reveal the reason for their ire but it must have been grave indeed for they had requested the services of Jen Kedar himself. The guild-master politely declined their offer but offered the services of one of his best and most discreet agents, Grummok.

The weapon master was not unknown to Grummok; a chance encounter with the skilled drow fighter over thirty years ago had resulted in the death of Kormok, one of Grummok’s brood mates. Grummok remembered that night distinctly, the drow weapon master had moved with almost supernatural speed and precision even when surrounded by Grummok and his two brothers. Kormok had been slain within seconds while Grummok’s older sibling, Bremok was knocked senseless and left for dead. Grummok had fled that night and by chance his brother Bremok had survived as well, it was a painful lesson for the fledgling gargoyles, as they learned all at once that Erelhei-Cinlu held creatures far more dangerous than themselves.

Grummok relished the idea of killing Azakai but he knew that the drow would likely best him in a direct confrontation; Grummok would need outside assistance if he were to have any chance of slaying the dangerous weapon master. The gargoyle assassin had on occasion used the considerable fortune he had attained to hire extra muscle for particularly dangerous contracts. Years ago Grummok had made the acquaintance of a bugbear mercenary who ran a small gang of thugs and cutthroats out of the Ghetto of Outsiders. The bugbear, one Thagmot, was a prime example of the vicious humanoids that dwelled within the Ghetto of Outsiders looking for any excuse to vent their aggression and make a few coins in the process. For the princely sum of five thousand gold pieces Thagmot was more than willing to lend his and his men’s assistance to the gargoyle’s assassination attempt on the formidable Azakai Tormtor.

Grummok began to monitor Azakai’s movements throughout the city and found that the weapon master was quite the drunkard. When not training the troops of house Tormtor’s personal guard he could be found in the Ghetto of Foreigners swilling cheap wine and wenching with a recklessness that bordered on suicidal. The prodigious amount of drink consumed by the drow elf seemed in no way to hinder his fighting prowess as Grummok and his brothers had learned to their detriment that fateful night so many years ago. Azakai would often walk the streets in a besotted stupor after a night of drink and revelry, lurching out into the dangerous city blissfully confident that his blade and his reputation would turn away any would be attackers. Grummok planned to make one of Azakai’s drunken walks much more interesting and hopefully fatal.

Thagmot met Grummok on the night the assassination was to take place in a familiar alley off the Street of lies in the Ghetto of Foreigners. The bugbear had brought three of his best fighters, a trio of orcs that had served him well in the past. Grummok instructed the bugbear and his men to enter the inn where Azakai was currently slaking his thirst and start a confrontation with the weapon master. Thagmot balked at challenging the fearsome drow fighter alone, but Grummok assured him that as soon as the fight began he would enter the fray and the five of them would make short work of the drunken weapon master. Thagmot was mollified with the explanation and agreed to Grummok’s plan ordering his men to follow him as he walked from the alley and towards the bustling inn. Grummok allowed himself a vicious little smile of satisfaction as he watched the massive bugbear march off to what would likely be his death.

 

[BLACKDIRGE]

As promised here is the second half of Tuesday's post. I will post stats and histories for Azakai Tormtor and poor old Thagmot in the next post.

Dirge

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Weapon Master Blues, Part II

The inn of the Blighted Behir was arguably the worst inn in the entire city of Erelhei-Cinlu, a dangerous, filthy den of cutthroats and murderers it served cheap wine by the gallon and often as not served many patrons their very last drink, period. Azakai Tormtor had been frequenting the vile establishment for years and was well known by its owner and proprietor Vilshank, a degenerate svirfneblin rogue who had obtained the inn in a game of dice. The drow of the city avoided the Blighted Behir like the plague and Azakai was certainly the only drow of noble birth ever to darken its doorway. Fights were common and Vilshank employed a pair of ogre mercenaries to keep the peace or just to dump the bodies of the slain, after they were thoroughly looted, into the trash pile.

The inn’s patrons had learned long ago, after the quick and brutal death of more than a few of them, that when the drow weapon master was in his cups he was best left alone. Only Vilshank and the numerous whores he employed even dared speak to Azakai and even they did so only when absolutely necessary. Grummok, of course knew all of this and he also knew that Thagmot and his men were quite simply marching off to their deaths. The gargoyle assassin just needed the doomed bugbear to create a slight diversion to focus Azakai’s attention elsewhere while he moved into position.

Grummok did not have to wait long for Thagmot and his men to stir up trouble, mere minutes after they had entered the Blighted Behir the tell tale sounds of combat erupted from the ramshackle inn. In response to the noise Grummok pulled a small potion vial from his belt and quickly drank down its contents, seconds later the gargoyles outline became hazy and then he disappeared all together. Cloaked by magical invisibility Grummok crept silently to the front of the inn. The main door of the Blighted Behir stood open and a murky swath of light fell out into the street a single beacon of brightness in the otherwise lightless city. Grummok slid up to the doorway and peered through, he saw what he had expected to see; Thagmot and his men fighting for their lives against the drunken fury of Azakai and his saber.

The inn’s common room was a simple affair, box shaped with the ancient battered bar in the south end of the room and a number of rickety tables and chairs strewn haphazardly across the filthy slat wooden floor. The inn’s other patrons had arranged the tables and chairs to form a circle some thirty feet in diameter in the center of the inn. It was here in this makeshift arena that Thagmot and his men battled the drow weapon master. Drinks in hand the denizens of the Blighted Behir stood just beyond the raging battle casually conversing and placing bets on the outcome of the confrontation. Thagmot and his men were serious underdogs at 7 to 1.

The battle could best be described as four men attempting to weather a hurricane with nothing but an umbrella and a prayer. One of the orcs was already down and bleeding while the other two flanked Thagmot as he frantically attempted to hold the drow elf at bay with his halberd. Azakai moved with almost godlike speed and agility, his silvery saber was a constantly moving blur and he drew blood at will. As Grummok moved closer the drow weapon master tumbled beneath a clumsy sweeping blow of Thagmot’s halberd and came up slashing at the orc to the right of the bugbear. The orc tried in vain to bring his shield up to deflect the cut but was far too slow and Azakai’s blade drew a crimson line across his face, slicing the orc’s nose and both his lips neatly in half. The maimed orc dropped his weapon and shield to clutch at the ruins of his face leaving himself open for Azakai’s next slash, a vicious rising cut that opened the orc up from groin to sternum. Even as the orc slumped to the floor the weapon master was whirling, bringing his blade to bear on Thagmot.

The remaining orc wanted no part of the deadly drow elf and abandoned Thagmot to his fate, dropping his weapon and fleeing through the crowd of spectators and out the main door. Grummok had to admire Thagmot just then for the bugbear stood his ground knowing he was outclassed in every way. Azakai came on like an avalanche, his saber seeming to strike at Thagmot from every possible direction ringing off the bugbears halberd or cutting into his flesh when he missed a parry. Thagmot was weakening quickly under the onslaught and would not last much longer; fortunately he had given Grummok the time he needed to make his move.

As the battle raged Grummok had crept up silent and invisible to the edge of the makeshift ring where the combat was taking place. His keen assassin’s eyes had never left Azakai, hungrily tracing his every movement, noting every minute detail in his stride, his fighting style even the way his armor hung on his body. The weapon master had flung his cloak off before the melee had begun and wore only his fine suit of drow chainmail; he carried a small Mithral buckler in his left hand while his right cradled his deadly saber. Grummok knew that drow chainmail, especially of the quality worn by Azakai, could turn even the most determined blade, but this fact would not come into play for the weapon master’s judgment had been dulled by drink and his helm lay forgotten on the floor. Silent as the void Grummok drew his fiendish fleshgrinding dagger from its sheath and moved into position completely unnoticed by the raging weapon master.

Thagmot was tiring quickly but he summoned what was left of his strength and brought his halberd over his head in a massive overhand blow that surely would have sheared Azakai in half had it landed. With what seemed an almost casual grace the weapon master cleanly sidestepped Thagmot’s powerful strike, letting the halberd hammer down into the floorboards to become lodged in the splintered wood. Off balance and vulnerable Thagmot could do nothing but watch as Azakai slid past his guard to deliver the killing blow. As Azakai stepped up to the doomed bugbear to finish him he witnessed Thagmot’s eyes suddenly grow wide with surprise, not from his impending death but from the sudden appearance of something over Azakai’s left shoulder. Alarm screaming through his drink numbed mind the weapon master whirled about, Thagmot completely forgotten, to stare into the horrendous visage of Grummok.

Grummok gave the weapon master no time to react and simply stepped forward and stabbed the drow cleanly through his red rimmed left eye, killing him almost instantly. Azakai’s body convulsed and his saber and buckler clattered to the ground. Grummok caught the weapon master before his body hit the floor and then with nary a glance at the stunned crowd of onlookers threw the corpse over his shoulder and sauntered out of the Blighted Behir.

A hundred yards from the inn Grummok heard the crowd come out of its stupor as the inn’s patrons unleashed their fury for being cheated out of their bets. Grummok figured Thagmot would likely bear the brunt of that hostility, but no matter, he had served his purpose. Pleased with himself and at the fulfillment of another contract, Grummok took to the air with his prize and winged off towards the guild house to collect his well-earned reward.

 

[BLACKDIRGE]

Here are the stats and the tragic tale of Azakai Tormtor, former weapon master of house Tormtor and Grummok's latest victim.

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Azakai Tormtor: Male Drow Rog5/Ftr8; CR 14; Medium Humanoid; HD 5d6+8d10+13; hp 92; Init +5; Spd 30 ft.; AC 31 (+7 Dex, +8 chainmail, +4 buckler, +2 ring); Atk +22/+17/+12 melee (1d8+7/15-20 x2, +3 keen wounding drow bane saber); SA sneak attack +3d6, death attack; SQ Drow traits, darkvision 60 ft., uncanny dodge (Dex to AC), evasion, SR 24; AL N; SV Fort +10, Ref +13, Will +6; Str 14, Dex 24, Con 12, Int 14, Wis 13, Cha 14.
Skills (112 pts): Bluff +12, Climb +14, Hide +17, Intimidate +10, Jump +14, Listen +11, Move Silently +27, Search +14, Spot +11, Tumble +19
Feats: Weapon Focus (saber), Weapon Finesse (saber), Weapon Specialization (saber), Quick Draw, Flick of the Wrist, Expertise, Improved Disarm, Dash, Improved Critical (saber), Combat Reflexes
Languages: Undercommon, Drow, Abyssal, Gnome
Possessions: Bitterbite (+3 keen wounding drow bane saber)*, +3 elven chain of silent moves, +3 mithral buckler, +4 gloves of dexterity, cloak of resistance +2, ring of minor elemental protection (fire), ring of protection +2

Drow Traits: Azakai Tormtor is immune to magic sleep spells and effects. He has a +2 racial bonus on saves against Enchantment spells or effects and a +2 racial bonus on Will saves against spells or spell-like abilities. He also has darkvision (120-foot range) and is entitled to a Search check when within 5 feet of a secret or concealed door as though actively looking for it, but she also has light blindness (blinded for 1 round by abrupt exposure to bright light, -1 circumstance penalty on all attack rolls, saves, and checks while operating in bright light). Azakai Tormtor also has a +2 racial bonus on Listen, Spot, and Search checks (already figured into the statistics given above).

Evasion (Ex): If exposed to any effect that normally allows a character to attempt a Reflex saving throw for half damage, Azakai Tormtor takes no damage with a successful saving throw.

Azakai Tormtor was the eldest son of Matron Verdaeth Tormtor, and served his mother ably as house weapon master. His skill with a blade was unmatched by any warrior in the remaining seven noble families and his death was seen as a blessing from Lolth by his many rivals. In fact it truly was Lolth herself who demanded the life of Azakai Tormtor for he had committed a sin completely abhorrent to the vicious spider queen, he had shown kindness and mercy.

Azakai’s debauchery was well documented and his exploits with various noble drow women were the subject of much gossip and jealousy. But the drow weapon master did not reserve his affections for those of noble birth alone and many beautiful commoners found themselves the subject of Azakai’s lust as well. It was one of these low born women that led to the weapon master’s descent in to addiction and eventually his demise.

Threnessa Harrowheart was the daughter of a successful sword merchant in the Ghetto of Artisan’s, her beauty was breathtaking and her heart was unspoiled by the darkness and despair of the terrible city of Erelhei Cinlu. Azakai first caught sight of the stunning young drow elf when browsing the weapon smith’s stalls in the bazaar. He was instantly smitten and the two began a passionate love affair. Azakai visited Threnessa whenever he could and soon she was the only woman in his life and he was happier than he had ever been.

Threnessa had an outlook on life that Azakai found intriguing, she was not driven by ambition or station and seemed to enjoy helping the less fortunate around her. Azakai had been taught from birth that mercy and kindness were hallmarks of the weak and that any drow displaying these traits deserved nothing more than disgust and death. But despite this the battle hardened weapon master found himself inexplicably drawn to Threnessa’s guileless charm and open generosity and soon Azakai’s own, rather bleak, outlook began to change. When Threnessa told Azakai that she had conceived a child by him he was overjoyed and vowed that once the child was born that he and Threnessa would leave Erelhei-Cinlu and raise the infant away from the corruption and evil of the drow city.

Unfortunately Azakai’s hopeful future was not to be. His mother the vindictive Verdaeth Tormtor, matron of house Tormtor had learned of her sons transgressions with the low born Threnessa Harrowheart. Enraged, the drow matron ordered the death of the Threnessa and her family. The death sentence was carried out through a group of Duergar arms dealers who masked the matron mother’s machinations with fabricated reasons of their own. The duergar contacted the feared Jen Kedar Everhate, guild master of assassins, and contracted for the Threnessa’s and her family’s death on the grounds that her father, a successful sword merchant was biting into their profits.

Jen Kedar chose one of his best, the gargoyle Grummok, to carry out the contract and within three days Threnessa along with her family and her unborn child were dead. Azakai learned of his lover’s death the next day and flew into a berserk rage, slaying the unfortunate drow servant who had been forced to deliver the news. When he had calmed his mother, Verdaeth warned him that Lolth was very displeased with his actions and that if he wanted to avoid a gruesome death on the sacrificial altar he had best behave in the fashion a drow noble was expected to. With no outlet to vent his grief the heart broken Azakai turned to the numbing comfort of drink and soon there was little in his life that mattered beyond the bottle.

Over the years that followed Azakai began a rapid descent into drunken uselessness and quickly became an embarrassment to his mother and his house. Lolth knew that Azakai still harbored grief and love for his lost Threnessa and she demanded the death of the broken weapon master. Verdaeth Tormtor turned once again to Jen Kedar Everhate to carry out the will of Lolth and Grummok, now his best assassin was assigned to facilitate Azakai’s demise. On that fateful night in the Blighted Behir as Azakai turned to face Grummok he knew that he looked into the eyes of his Threnessa’s murderer and just before the assassin’s blade plunged into his flesh he hoped that at least in death he might be able to see his love once more before Lolth claimed his soul.

Moments after of his death, as Azakai’s soul spiraled into the void he could feel the looming presence of the Lolth hungrily awaiting to consume him, but the life of the former weapon master had been monitored by beings other than the loathsome spider queen. With a blinding flash of light Azakai’s soul was suddenly snatched away from the slavering maw of Lolth and he suddenly found himself in a clear forest glade with a star filled sky stretching overhead. There were two drow women in the glade with him, one was a vision so lovely that he could scarcely stand to look at her and the other was Threnessa.

Azakai sank to his knees his eyes pleading for an explanation and the first drow women spoke to him in a voice that resounded with mercy and power. She was incredibly tall and clad only in her own white silken locks, she carried a naked bastard sword and her eyes were filled with sympathy. She explained that he was in Arborea the ancestral home of the elves and that she was Eliastree the goddess of drow who had turned away from Lolth. The goddess had taken an interest in the two doomed lovers long ago and refused see them denied the happiness they so justly deserved. Weeping with grief and fear, Azakai begged Eliastree to torment him no longer, thinking this was only a cruel illusion concocted by Lolth. Her eyes brimming with pity Eliastree bent down to the grieving weapon master and lightly kissed his forehead. Azakai’s mind suddenly cleared and his sorrow melted away, the power of the goddess had instantly conveyed her truth to his mind. Azakai rose to his feet and walked the short space to his love who awaited him with open arms and the promise of
eternity.

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*Bitterbite, +3 keen wounding drow bane saber: The feared saber of the former weapon master Azakai Tormtor has a long an ugly history. Forged by the surface elves to combat their dark skinned brethren long ago when Lolth and her followers first seceded from the Seldarine, it has changed hands many times in the millennia that followed. The blade is attuned to elvish blood and functions only as a simple +1 saber for any non elf, surprisingly the saber allows drow elves access to all of its powers just as it would a surface elf. Bitterbite is a thing of lethal beauty, its adamantine blade is long and gracefully curved and has been shined to a mirror sheen catching the tiniest fraction of illumination to glow like a firebrand when it is unsheathed. The hilt of the weapon is rather plain featuring a full basket hilt of plain adamantine with its only adornment, a large black gem in the weapon’s pommel.

Bitterbite was created to combat drow and to that end has been enchanted to wreak havoc on the dark skinned elves. In the wars that saw Lolth banished from the court of the elves the blade took many drow lives and was wielded by the legendary elf hero Kinthanin Lenathane. After Kinthanin’s death the saber was passed on to his sons and handed down through the generations to the first born son of the Lenethane family line. Bitterbite made its way into the underdark during a daring raid on Erelhei-Cinlu by a band of brave and foolish elven adventurers led by its then wielder the rash and chaotic Jivendex Lenethane. Jivendex and his men were captured, tortured and slain and Bitterbite was claimed by house Tormtor and eventually gifted to the house weapon master Azakai.

Azakai Tormtor made quite a name for himself with Bitterbite, slaying many rivals with its silvery blade. When the weapon master was slain in the chaotic battle at the Blighted Behir the priceless saber was left where it had fallen after Azakai met his end at the hands of Grummok, a gargoyle assassin. The blade was claimed by the bugbear mercenary Thagmot who had been working with Grummok and nearly lost his life in the battle with Azakai and the ensuing bedlam that followed the weapon master's demise. Thagmot managed to escape the throngs of infuriated gamblers who had been placing bets on the battle between the bugbear and the drow weapon master and were less than pleased when Grummok slew Azakai from the cover of an invisibility spell.

Bitterbite’s fate is uncertain for Thagmot can not fully use the blade and will likely sell it to the highest bidder. But regardless of who wields the saber it is certain the Bitterbite will continue to fulfill its purpose in the evil and tumultuous drow city of Erelehei-Cinlu.

 

[BLACKDIRGE]

Sorry for the delay on updates on Grummok, but I wasn't quite sure where i wanted to take the story. I think I chose the right direction, I love reintroducing old characters. Hope you like it.

Dirge

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Grummok (age 70): Male Gargoyle Rog 4/Asn5; CR 13; Medium Magical Beast; HD 4d10+9d6+78; hp 136; Init +8; Spd 45 ft., fly 75 ft. (good); AC 27 (+6 Dex, +4 natural, +5 studded leather armor, +2 ring); Atk +18 melee (1d4+6/19-20 x2, 2 claws), +14 melee (1d6+2, bite), +14 melee (1d6+2 gore) or +17/+12 melee (1d4+7/19-20 x2, +3 fleshgrinding dagger); SA sneak attack +5d6, death attack, poison use; SQ darkvision 60 ft., uncanny dodge (Dex to AC, can’t be flanked, +1 vs. traps), +2 saves vs. poison, DR 15/+1, freeze, evasion; AL NE; SV Fort +14, Ref +16, Will +6; Str 18, Dex 22, Con 22, Int 17, Wis 12, Cha 12.

Skills (97 pts): Bluff +6, Craft (poison making) +8, Disguise +10, Escape Artist +12, Gather Information +10, Hide +29, Intimidate +5, Listen +10, Move Silently +24, Open Lock +12, Search +10, Spot +10, Tumble +12.
Feats: Multiattack, Weapon Finesse (claw, bite, gore), Exotic Weapon Proficiency (garrote), Improved Initiative, Improved Critical (claws)
Languages: Undercommon, Terran, Drow
Possessions: +2 shadowed studded leather armor, boots of elvenkind, wire garrote, ring of magic fang +2, belt of giant strength +4, +3 fleshgrinding dagger, +2 dagger, ring of protection +2, head band of intellect +2, gloves of dexterity +4, ring of minor elemental protection (fire)
Assassin Spells Prepared: (2/2/1; save DC 13 + spell level): 1st -- change self, angry ache. 2nd – alter self, darkness. 3rd -- invisibility

Freeze (Ex): Grummok can hold himself so still that he appears to be a statue. An observer must succeed at a Spot check (DC 20) to notice Grummok is really alive.

Evasion (Ex): If exposed to any effect that normally allows a character to attempt a Reflex saving throw for half damage, Grummok takes no damage with a successful saving throw.

Death Attack: If Grummok studies his victim for 3 rounds and then makes a sneak attack within the next 3 rounds with a melee weapon that successfully deals damage, the sneak attack may also paralyze or kill the target (Grummok's choice). A victim who fails his or her Fortitude saving throw (DC 18) against the kill effect dies. If the saving throw fails against the paralysis, the victim's mind and body become enervated, making him or her completely helpless and unable to act for 1d6+1 rounds.

Poison Use: Grummok is trained in the use of poison and never risks accidentally poisoning himself when applying poison to a blade.

Grummok has hunted and slain every member of the cult of Baalzebul he could find. None of the secretive society’s pathetic members offered him any challenge, which has led him to believe that Shebon Mot, his former mentor, must have been their leader. With his thirst for vengeance slaked at last Grummok has turned his attention to other pursuits, now a veteran assassin Grummok must perform the duties assigned to every guild member that reaches the gargoyle’s status, he must find and recruit an appropriate apprentice. The gargoyle was less than pleased with this mandate, having no interest in improving the station of anyone but himself, but he was left with little choice.

Grummok began his search for an apprentice in the Ghetto of Outcasts, thinking the desperate population of that district might offer him what he was looking for. Disguising his form with magic Grummok entered the ghetto under the guise of a drow noble with the hope that his apparent wealth might draw out a likely candidate. Strolling casually through the main thoroughfare, Grummok dangled a large purse laden with gold coins on his belt and his disguise masked his weapons and armor. The gargoyle did not have to wait long before his apparent wealth and vulnerability attracted a motley group of humans and other humanoid refuse who assembled en masse to make the most of this rare opportunity. The group was seething with menace but they were all cowards at heart and none of them wished to initiate the conflict, all save one.

A tall bearded human clad in a patchwork suit of leather armor shouldered his way through the throng of beggars and thieves, his eyes were full of malice and he gripped a short bladed throwing dagger in his left hand. The man was strangely familiar to Grummok and if he had seen the man before, long ago. “What are you fools waiting for!” the bearded man shouted. He was now standing in front of the throng of cast offs and with snarl of disgust turned and hurled his dagger in one smooth motion at Grummok

Grummok made no move to avoid the missile, letting his disguise drop at the last possible instant to allow the gathered group of would be marauders a good look at his terrifying natural form. The dagger thudded off of Grummok's skin, leaving no mark on the gargoyles stony integument and clattered harmlessly to the ground. The manifestation of Grummok’s true from sent a ripple of fear through the crowd and they shrank back from the gargoyle’s malevolent glare. The bearded man, however, displayed more than fear, his face went pale and his features twisted into a rictus mask of absolute horror. “You…!” he gasped, eyes wide with surprise and terror. A flash of instant recognition crashed into Grummok’s brain as the bearded man fought his way through the crowd, frantically trying to escape.

The crowd that had assembled to rob and murder a lone drow noble wanted no part of a gargoyle assassin and rapidly dispersed, its members fleeing in all directions. Grummok paid no heed to the deteriorating mob and vaulted into the air after the bearded man who was racing down the street away from him. The gargoyle caught up with his quarry quickly and circled overhead, while the bearded man let out a howl of terror and ducked into the remains of a crumbling building. Grummok landed in the street before the structure in which the bearded man had sought refuge and drawing his dagger, cautiously crept inside the ruined building.

Grummok’s first step into the bearded man’s hiding place was instantly met with a hurled dagger from the concealing darkness. The gargoyle’s keenly honed senses warned him of the danger well before the dagger reached him and he casually slapped away the missile with one spade clawed hand. “That was a good cast, Hek” Grummok spoke into the still silence. “You would have had any lesser creature dead to rights with that toss.” Grummok moved further into the building listening intently for any sign of his quarry. The building was once a single story residence that had been abandoned years ago, the front room had a single hallway that led to what Grummok guessed were bedrooms and possibly a larder and kitchen. Hek was likely hiding behind one of the warped doors that lined the narrow hallway.

“You’ve learned a lot since last we met, Hek” Grummok called out, moving to the edge of the hallway. “I must say that I am quite impressed that you managed to survive this long. I mean, a young boy alone in a city like this is hardly a candidate for lasting health.”

“Leave me alone!” a hoarse voice echoed back to Grummok through the silence. The voice came from behind the last door to the right at the end of the hallway; the door was off its hinges and hung drunkenly to one side. Grummok moved silently to the doorway and peered through. The room was plain, windowless and contained nothing but Hek, poor disheveled Hek, huddling in one corner a dagger held out before him.

“Come now, Hek. I am not here to harm you. I want to help you.” Grummok said softly from the doorway, his voice dripping with sympathy.

“I don’t want your help! I saw what you did to Shebon.” Hek screamed, tears running down his face as the terrible boyhood memory resurfaced. “You ate him, while he was still…still alive.” The last part came out in a horrified whisper.

Grummok had moved to within a few paces of the cowering human, his dagger sheathed and his hands held out wide before him. “Shebon got what he deserved, boy. How can you shed any tears for that bastard after all he did to you? The pain he endured was miniscule compared to what you suffered.” The gargoyle had sunk down on his haunches and was edging closer one hand held out beckoning before him like a beast tamer attempting to pacify a recalcitrant animal.

“I …I can remember” Hek muttered. “He hurt me over and over, until you came. I thought you were going to take me with you when…when you were done.” Hek turned his tear stained face up to Grummok a frantic plea etched across his beaded face. The years had been remarkably kind to Hek, Grummok guessed that he must be close to forty but he looked like a man in the vigor of his mid twenties. Perhaps Hek had a trace of elven blood, Grummok mused.

“Hek, I am truly sorry” Grummok whispered soothingly his voice still thick with mimed sympathy. “I should have taken you with me, I though the gold I gave you would allow you to leave this hellish place and return to the surface, I had no idea you would remain in Erelhei-Cinlu.” Grummok was now sitting on the earthen floor directly in front of Hek, one taloned hand resting on the human’s shoulder. Hek was staring into Grummok’s eyes hoping against hope that the gargoyle spoke truth. “Hek, I see that you have become skilled with your daggers, and to survive so long alone you must have developed quite a few other talents as well. I want to take you away from here. I want to train you to be my apprentice.”

“Your apprentice?” Hek said. “You want me to be an assassin?” the disgust was obvious in Hek’s last statement, but still he did not shrink from the gargoyle’s touch and continued to listen.

“Yes, that’s right. I will teach you how to kill, and kill well. You will have the opportunity to strike out at all of the Shebon Mots of this wretched city, and you will grow rich and powerful in the process. Let me do this for you Hek, let me make amends for the wrongs you have so unjustly suffered. Please.” Grummok had him and he knew it. The gargoyle had judged his prey correctly; Hek wanted nothing more than to belong and to have a place to call his home, even if it was a simple cot at the assassin’s guildhall. Grummok had now secured himself the perfect apprentice simply because he was the only creature to ever show Hek any kindness, be it real or imagined, and for that Grummok had bought the human’s undying loyalty.

There was no fight left Hek and he lowered his dagger and climbed wearily to his feet. “ I will come with you.” Hek’s voice shook with emotion, but Grummok could not tell if it was fear or gratitude that filled the humans words.

“Good. Thank you for letting me do this, Hek. I promise you will be well looked after under my care. You have my word.” With that Grummok smiled disarmingly and threw a scaly arm around the Hek’s shoulders leading him from his lonely life as a beggar and thief and into something far, far worse.

 

[BLACKDIRGE]

Here are the stats and the tragic history of Hek, Grummok's new apprentice.

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Hek (age 37): Male Human (quarter elven) Rog 8; CR 8; Medium Humanoid; HD 8d6+8; hp 42; Init +8; Spd 30 ft.; AC 16 (+3 Dex, +2 armor, +1 buckler); Atk +8/+3 melee (1d4+3/19-20 x2, +1 dagger) or +10/+5 ranged (1d4+3/19-20 x2, throwing dagger) SA sneak attack +4d6; SQ uncanny dodge (Dex to AC, can’t be flanked), evasion; AL NE; SV Fort +3, Ref +9, Will +3; Str 14, Dex 16, Con 12, Int 16, Wis 13, Cha 11.

Skills (123 pts): Bluff +11, Climb +12, Disable Device +13, Escape Artist +14, Hide +13, Intimidate +11, Listen +11, Move Silently +13, Open Lock +13, Search +13, Spot +11, Tumble +15.
Feats: Quick Draw, Point Blank Shot, Precise Shot, Far Shot
Languages: Undercommon, Drow, Orc, Common
Possessions: 6 master work throwing daggers, leather armor, +1 dagger, buckler, ring of darkvision

The man now known as Hek was once an innocent boy from Hommlet by the name of Hekendel Oakheart. Hek’s parents were successful merchants that traded in rare spices and fabrics; they peddled their wares across the flanesse and were always on the lookout for new markets. After the fall of the Temple of Consumption one of the brave warriors who had thwarted the dread god Therizdun and his unthinkable machinations settled in the town of Hommlet and became good friends with Hek’s parents. The warrior, one Bytorn Nighthammer, found the sedentary lifestyle of Hommlet to be stifling and before too long he had decided to begin adventuring once again. Bytorn decided that his first stint as a born again adventurer would be to the underdark and would include a visit to the dreaded drow city of Erelhei-Cinlu. Bytorn hired a few mercenaries and then approached his new friends, the Oakhearts, and offered them the merchant’s chance of a lifetime. They would go, under heavy guard, to an area that was a completely untapped market for their wares for underdark denizens often had use of surface goods but rarely had a way to acquire them easily. The Oakhearts readily agreed to Bytorn’s offer and soon along with their teenage son were on their way to the uncharted depths of the underdark.

The journey to the Vault of the Drow, the huge cavern that housed the city of Erelhei-Cinlu, was dangerous in the extreme but the combination of Bytorn’s adventuring skill and a little luck saw the merchant family and their guards reach the gates of the drow city virtually unscathed. The small band of surface dwellers was allowed entrance into the city after the exchange of a few coins and was directed to the bazaar where the Oakhearts quickly set up shop. Over the course of the following week the merchant family plied their wares with great success drawing even the noble families down from their gated manses to peruse the goods offered by the surface dwellers.

All was going well until disaster struck in the guise of a spider-masked cleric of Lolth and her retinue of devoted sycophants. The priestess had been haggling over the price of a silk cape and had suddenly taken offense when Jendaria Oakheart, Hek’s mother, muttered a curse under her breath in elven regarding the penny-pinching ways of the obviously wealthy priestess. The drow elf’s keen ears had detected the slur and had also realized that the barb had been in the language of the surface elves, the ancient enemy of the drow. Jendaria had taken pains to hide her elven heritage, using both methods magical and mundane, but her slight breach in etiquette proved to be her family’s undoing. The drow priestess had without warning stepped back and mouthed an incantation, releasing a spell the negated all of Jendaria’s magical disguises, leaving her elven ancestry clear to all.

Having exposed a half-elf in the midst of her Lolth dedicated city; the priestess ordered the death of Jendaria on the spot and her retinue of guards jumped to fulfil their mistress’s command. Bytorn and Kodar Oakheart, Hek’s father, along with Bytorn’s hired guards leapt to the defense of Jendaria but were cut down after a short and brutal battle. Jendaria was dragged away screaming her life destined to end upon the sacrificial slab in the Fane of Lolth. All of the Oakheart’s goods were confiscated and Hek was taken and sold into slavery, eventually ending up in the hellish brothel where Grummok had first encountered the boy.

At the brothel, Hek endured six months of the worst kinds of brutality imaginable mainly at the hand of Shebon Mot, the sadistic drow assassin. When Shebon was slain by the Grummok, the gargoyle bought Hek’s freedom from the brothel for his participation in Shebon Mot’s slaying. Grummok supplied Hek with a small amount of coin and an enchanted dagger, and then sent the boy on his way to make what life he could in the horrible drow city. Hek was drawn to the Ghetto of Outcasts almost immediately as it offered him ample bolt-holes in which to hide and in addition was one of the few places in the city that contained any noticeable amount of illumination due to its large population of surface dwellers. Hek was gifted with agility and intellect and these natural talents allowed him to survive where many others would have met a swift and painful death. Hek took to thieving naturally and soon had established a comfortable lair for himself in the Ghetto of Outcast furnished with stolen goods from all over the city. As Hek matured his success and was noticed by the other denizens of the ghetto and a conflict was inevitable. But the young human was up to the challenge and instead of slaying his rivals he bent them to his will and soon controlled a veritable army of beggars and thieves.

In the years that followed Hek’s motley assortment of castoffs were starting to become an organized force and Hek had ambitions of making the Ghetto of Outcast a safe haven for the abused and mistreated of Erelhei-Cinlu. All of Hek’s grand designs were suddenly stamped out by the appearance of Grummok on his search for an apprentice. On first sight of the gargoyle all of the terrible memories, so long repressed, came screaming to the surface, his parents death, the pain he suffered at the brothel and finally the horrid death of Shebon Mot, which he was forced to watch. Hek could do nothing but flee in terror, but the human’s past would not be denied and Hek found himself leaving the ghetto of outcast, so long his home, to endure the tutelage of the vile assassin Grummok. Deprived of the stability of leadership Hek’s ragtag group of followers deteriorated into the hopeless group of individuals it had been before the human’s arrival and despair reined once again throughout the district.

 

[BLACKDIRGE]

Grummok (age 75): Male Gargoyle Rog 4/Asn6; CR 14; Medium Magical Beast; HD 4d10+10d6+84; hp 147; Init +8; Spd 45 ft., fly 75 ft. (good); AC 28 (+6 Dex, +4 natural, +6 studded leather armor, +2 ring); Atk +19 melee (1d6+6/19-20 x2, 2 claws), +15 melee (1d6+2, bite), +15 melee (1d6+2 gore) or +18/+13/+8 melee (1d4+7/19-20 x2, +3 distance fleshgrinding dagger); SA sneak attack +5d6, death attack, poison use; SQ darkvision 60 ft., uncanny dodge (Dex to AC, can’t be flanked, +1 vs. traps), +3 saves vs. poison, DR 15/+1, freeze, evasion; AL NE; SV Fort +14, Ref +16, Will +6; Str 18, Dex 22, Con 22, Int 17, Wis 12, Cha 12.

Skills (104 pts): Bluff +6, Craft (poison making) +8, Disguise +10, Escape Artist +12, Gather Information +10, Hide +29, Intimidate +5, Listen +10, Move Silently +24, Open Lock +12, Search +10, Sense Motive +8, Spot +10, Tumble +12.
Feats: Multiattack, Weapon Finesse (claw, bite, gore), Exotic Weapon Proficiency (garrote), Improved Initiative, Improved Critical (claws)
Languages: Undercommon, Terran, Drow
Possessions: +3 shadowed studded leather armor, boots of elvenkind, wire garrote, ring of advanced magic fang +2*, belt of giant strength +4, +3 distance fleshgrinding dagger, +2 dagger, ring of protection +2, head band of intellect +2, gloves of dexterity +4, ring of minor elemental protection (fire)
Assassin Spells Prepared: (2/2/2; save DC 13 + spell level): 1st -- change self, angry ache. 2nd – alter self, darkness. 3rd – invisibility, sadism

Freeze (Ex): Grummok can hold himself so still that he appears to be a statue. An observer must succeed at a Spot check (DC 20) to notice Grummok is really alive.

Evasion (Ex): If exposed to any effect that normally allows a character to attempt a Reflex saving throw for half damage, Grummok takes no damage with a successful saving throw.

Death Attack: If Grummok studies his victim for 3 rounds and then makes a sneak attack within the next 3 rounds with a melee weapon that successfully deals damage, the sneak attack may also paralyze or kill the target (Grummok's choice). A victim who fails his or her Fortitude saving throw (DC 19) against the kill effect dies. If the saving throw fails against the paralysis, the victim's mind and body become enervated, making him or her completely helpless and unable to act for 1d6+1 rounds.

Poison Use: Grummok is trained in the use of poison and never risks accidentally poisoning himself when applying poison to a blade.

*ring of advanced magic fang: These plain unadorned steel rings operate as the standard ring of magic fang by adding an enhancement bonus to attack and damage rolls, in addition the advanced form increases the base damage die by one.


Jen Kedar Everhate was more than a little shocked when Grummok dragged a bedraggled human man into the guildhall and announced that he had found a suitable apprentice. The human, a middle-aged specimen of the race, named Hek, appeared in now way to be “suitable” for anything other than scrounging among the collected refuse in the Ghetto of Outcasts. But Jen Kedar had learned to trust Grummok’s instincts, as they had served the gargoyle well in the past, and was intrigued to see what Grummok could make of the disheveled human. The guild master approved Grummok’s selection and made the necessary arrangements for Hek’s training and accommodations but only after he had delivered a stern warning to both master and apprentice concerning the price of failure; loss of prestige for Grummok and death for Hek.

Hek turned out to be a pleasant surprise for both Grummok and Jen Kedar, taking to the training with a will and surpassing the other apprentices with ease. The human’s keen intellect and natural agility allowed him to navigate the treacherous yearlong training that all fledgling assassins were required to undertake completely unscathed. Jealousy among the other apprentices was inevitable and Hek found himself the subject of frequent amateurish assassinations, all of which he avoided with diplomatic subtlety and skill. The assassination attempts suddenly ceased when the dismembered and half eaten corpse of Hek’s most obvious rival was found in his master’s chambers, an unmistakable warning from assassin to assassin.

When his initial year was complete Hek was allowed to accompany Grummok on contracts and proved to be a useful and trustworthy ally on the gargoyle’s secretive missions. Hek obeyed Grummok’s every command to the letter and learned much in the way of stealth and murder. A genuine trust and even affection developed between Hek and Grummok as they learned to rely on each other’s skills and talents. Grummok was the only creature in the entire city who had shown Hek any kindness and the human felt a twisted bond of loyalty to his monstrous benefactor. Grummok’s trust was not granted so easily and it came only after Hek managed to rescue his master from a potentially lethal situation.

Six months after Hek and completed his initial training Grummok and his apprentice had been assigned to slay an upstart mage who refused to join the local mage guild and pay his respects to the guild master. The mage was a flamboyant fire genasi invoker named Vastinus Firecloak who made his home in the Ghetto of Artisans, ironically not more than a few blocks from the assassin’s guildhall. Grummok and Hek had carefully monitored Vastinus’s comings and goings and had learned that his ego and overblown confidence in his own abilities were so great that he kept no guards or even personal servants.

Vastinus’s home was an opulent two-story affair that featured a tall wrought iron fence surrounding the entire property. Grummok and Hek had learned that the main gate that led to the house was trapped with a devious and deadly ward. Any who approached within one foot of the trapped gate and did not utter the pass phrase were targeted with a fiendish spell that reduced their bodies to nothing more than a small pile of loose ash. As deadly as the trap was it demonstrated the arrogance and ignorance of its creator, for he had done nothing to protect the air space over his demesne allowing Grummok to simply fly over the fence and the warded gate to easily gain access to Vastinus’s property.

On the night that the assassination was to take place, Grummok took to wing and flew over Vastinus’s warded fence, carrying Hek, to land silently right outside the mage’s front door. The gargoyle then began to search the door and its jam for wards and traps. After a few moments Grummok was satisfied that the door was not trapped and was in fact only locked and motioned Hek forward to test his skills on the complicated locking mechanism. Hek had the door open in a matter of seconds, and with a smile and a grand flourish stepped aside to allow his master entrance into their mark’s house. Grummok motioned for Hek to stay put and then like a stalking shadow crept silently into the darkened house.

Hek stood patiently outside Vastinus’s front door cloaked in the thick shadows that seemed to cling to everything in the dark city of Erelhei-Cinlu. He knew, from dozens of other missions, that his master was a quick and efficient killer and his sentry duty would likely be short. But after ten minutes had trickled by, Hek began to worry. Grummok usually had finished the deed long before now and the pair should already be on their way to the guild house to collect their bounty. Fear and a chill sense of alarm crept into Hek’s bones and he felt with utmost certainty that something was wrong. Hek decided that the longer he waited the more likely Grummok would not return at all, and he had no wish to face the treachery of the assassins guild without the protection of his gargoyle master. Fearing the worst, Hek palmed one of his throwing daggers and cautiously entered the silent house.

The front door opened into a spacious foyer tiled with deep green marble and dominated by a huge spiral staircase that wound its way up into the silent darkness of the second story. A short hallway led off the foyer to the north and Hek could make out four doors evenly paced along the hallway’s length. The last door on the right caught Hek’s attention, for a soft glow of illumination protruded from under the jam and the barest of whisper of a voice drifted through the thin wood to Hek’s assassin trained hearing. Hek was unable to distinguish any comprehensible meaning from the voice so he moved silently down the hallway to stand in front of the impeding door, straining his ears to make words out of the muffled sound.

“…the fools! I knew that simpering idiot, Madastrac, would try something like this.” The contempt and anger in the voice was audible even through the door and Hek could hear footsteps as if the speaker were pacing back and forth while delivering his tirade.

“I have no need of their pathetic little guild! I am Vastinus Firecloak! I pay tribute to no man and especially not to that fat flatulent toad of a sorcerer, Madastrac.” Vastinus paused for a moment allowing Hek to realize that the mage’s audience was likely Grummok, but why in the nine hells would the gargoyle sit and listen to this conceited oaf.

“And furthermore, now Madastrac has shown his true colors. The coward! Hiring an assassin instead of dealing with me personally.” The speaker paused again as if in thought and then continued with obvious mirth shining through his rant. “In fact, when I have finished with you my scaly friend I think I will make a little expedition over to the mage guild and rouse the impotent fool from the safety of his guild hall. Hah! How I would dearly to love to see that overstuffed craven’s fat crisp in one of my famous violet fireballs.” Vastinus finished with a chuckle.

Having heard Vastinus refer to “his scaly friend” Hek knew that Grummok must be within, immobilized or worse. The human assassin tuned out the blathering of Vastinus and opened the door slowly, just a crack, so that he could peek inside undetected. The room was obviously Vastinus’s study for the large chamber was lined with heavy oaken bookcases. A chandelier of crystalline globes hung in the center of the ceiling and provided illumination, obviously via magical enchantment, to the entire room. The floor was plush with thick carpeting and the only furniture were two immense broad backed chairs, stately and comfortable that dominated the center of the room. Grummok stood motionless by one of the chairs while Vastinus continued to rant, striding back and forth in front of the gargoyle occasionally waving his hands to drive home some part of his tirade.

Vastinus was a Genasi, a mortal whose blood was mingled with that of an elemental, a fire elemental in this case. The mage was tall and thin with a tangled nest of bright red hair that seemed to move like the crackling dance of flame itself. Vastinus was clad in a simple white robe, belted with a wide yellow sash, that sharply contrasted with the Genasi’s reddish skin and his only armament was a gracefully curved dagger thrust into his belt.

Hek noted that Grummok’s body was completely still and that he held his favorite dagger in his left hand, there were none of the twitches or minor contortions that a body would experience when asked to stand completely still and Hek’s keen eye determined that Grummok must be under the influence of some kind of enchantment. If Hek did not act soon Vastinus would eventually tire of hearing the sound of his own voice and slay the helpless gargoyle.

Hek decided that it was now or never and kicked open the door with a resounding crash to hurl his dagger at the wide-eyed mage. Vastinus’s seemingly endless babble died with a choked gurgle as Hek’s dagger buried itself in the genasi’s throat. Vastinus hand frantically scrambled at the hilt of Hek’s blade jutting from beneath his chin as his bright red blood coursed down his robes staining them in streaks of rushing crimson. With another dagger in hand Hek rushed across the room to drive his second blade into Vastinus’s chest, piercing the mage’s heart and ending his life.

With the immediate threat eliminated Hek turned to Grummok who still stood immobile resembling nothing more than a terrible statue. Hek guessed that the spell would eventually wear off and busied himself by stripping Vastinus’s corpse and perusing the myriad books that lined the walls. Hek did not have to wait long as a few moments later Grummok suddenly convulsed his arm arcing out in a vicious blur finishing the movement he had begun before Vastinus’s spell had ensnared him. When the gargoyle had gathered his wits he turned to his apprentice and stretched his fanged mouth in a tight, forced smile. “Well Hek, it seems you learned a bit more on this outing than I had intended. I am in your debt.” With that the gargoyle slammed his dagger back into its sheath and stalked from the room, shame and rage clouding the air around the veteran assassin.

Hek stood alone in the Vastinus’s study letting Grummok’s words rattle around in his head. The gargoyle was absolutely right, Hek had learned more than was intended; he had leaned that his master was not invulnerable. Hek found Grummok waiting for him in the foyer a brutal frown creasing his bestial features. Hek had to stifle a laugh; the gargoyle obviously was not used to relying on anyone and resented it immensely. Well, Hek thought, perhaps he was not the only one who had learned something this night.

 

[BLACKDIRGE]

Looks like this one is going to be a long one. So I have split it into two for ease of reading. Here is the first part.

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Grummok (age 80): Male Gargoyle Rog 4/Asn7; CR 15; Medium Magical Beast; HD 4d10+11d6+84; hp 155; Init +11; Spd 45 ft., fly 75 ft. (perfect); AC 28 (+6 Dex, +4 natural, +6 studded leather armor, +2 ring); Atk +21 melee (1d6+6/19-20 x2, 2 claws), +17 melee (1d6+2, bite), +17 melee (1d6+2 gore) or +20/+15/+10 melee (1d4+8/19-20 x2, +4 distance fleshgrinding dagger); SA sneak attack +6d6, death attack, poison use; SQ darkvision 60 ft., uncanny dodge (Dex to AC, can’t be flanked, +1 vs. traps), +3 saves vs. poison, DR 15/+1, freeze, evasion; AL NE; SV Fort +15, Ref +17, Will +7; Str 18, Dex 24, Con 22, Int 17, Wis 12, Cha 12.

Skills (111 pts): Bluff +6, Craft (poison making) +10, Disguise +10, Escape Artist +13, Gather Information +10, Hide +30, Intimidate +6, Listen +10, Move Silently +25, Open Lock +13, Search +10, Sense Motive +10, Spot +10, Tumble +15.
Feats: Multiattack, Weapon Finesse (claw, bite, gore), Exotic Weapon Proficiency (garrote), Improved Initiative, Improved Critical (claws), Two Weapon Fighting
Languages: Undercommon, Terran, Drow
Possessions: +3 shadowed studded leather armor, boots of elvenkind, wire garrote, ring of advanced magic fang +2, belt of giant strength +4, +4 distance fleshgrinding dagger, +2 dagger, ring of protection +2, head band of intellect +2, gloves of dexterity +6, ring of minor elemental protection (fire), amulet of the zephyr,
Assassin Spells Prepared: (3/2/2; save DC 13 + spell level): 1st -- change self, angry ache, obscuring mist. 2nd – alter self, darkness. 3rd – invisibility, sadism

Freeze (Ex): Grummok can hold himself so still that he appears to be a statue. An observer must succeed at a Spot check (DC 20) to notice Grummok is really alive.

Evasion (Ex): If exposed to any effect that normally allows a character to attempt a Reflex saving throw for half damage, Grummok takes no damage with a successful saving throw.

Death Attack: If Grummok studies his victim for 3 rounds and then makes a sneak attack within the next 3 rounds with a melee weapon that successfully deals damage, the sneak attack may also paralyze or kill the target (Grummok's choice). A victim who fails his or her Fortitude saving throw (DC 20) against the kill effect dies. If the saving throw fails against the paralysis, the victim's mind and body become enervated, making him or her completely helpless and unable to act for 1d6+1 rounds.

Poison Use: Grummok is trained in the use of poison and never risks accidentally poisoning himself when applying poison to a blade.

The Blackguard's Vengeance Part I

Hek has become a full-fledged assassin, gaining the rank of journeyman in record time. The human continues to work with his former mentor Grummok and the two have completed many daring and prestigious contracts. A rare bond exists between the human and the gargoyle, a loyalty that borders on true friendship but is held at bay by both assassins’ unwillingness to trust anyone completely. Still, Grummok trusts Hek more than anyone in the entire city and the two assassins enjoy the company of one another in a guarded and perfunctory fashion.

Grummok himself has become somewhat of a celebrity in Erelhei-Cinlu, for next to Jen Kedar the gargoyle is the single most dangerous assassin in the city. Grummok is often sought by the wealthy and prestigious members of Erelhei-Cinlu to eliminate enemies and rivals and the gargoyle happily obliges all who are able to afford his astronomical fee. To say that Grummok is wealthy would be an understatement of vast proportions; Grummok is without a doubt one of the wealthiest members of Erelhei-Cinlu’s elite hierarchy. The fabulous largess the gargoyle has accumulated is spent mostly on upgrading his equipment and bribing the clergy of Lolth so that the vindictive devotees of the spider queen will let him operate unmolested.

The unmistakable success that Grummok has enjoyed over the past twenty years is not without its pitfalls. The gargoyle has accumulated quite a list of enemies and rivals that would enjoy nothing more than seeing the mighty assassin tumbled from his lofty perch. What’s more, rumblings within his own guild have alerted Grummok to the possibility that Jen Kedar Everhate, the guild master of assassins himself, has come to resent Grummok’s growing power and prosperity. But despite any possible diversity Grummok goes about his lethal business unchallenged and woe to any who think to catch the gargoyle of his guard.

Of all those that hate and loathe Grummok there is one whose lust for vengeance burns brighter than any. Thagmot, the brutal bugbear mercenary who assisted Grummok so many years ago in his assassination of the famed weapon master Azakai Tormtor, has never forgotten his ill treatment at the hands of the gargoyle assassin. Used as a simple diversion and then abandoned to his fate, the bugbear bares a hatred for Grummok that has burned ever brighter these past eighteen years. Thagmot has gained much power in the last two decades due in large part to his discovery and devotion to the black cult of Therizdun. The bugbear has given his soul to the mad god of emptiness and despair and is now a bastion of unholy power. Grummok has long forgotten Thagmot believing him slain in the riot that had ensued after Azakai Tormtor’s demise. The gargoyle has spared not a moments concern on the rare event that the bugbear had survived, a mistake that nearly saw the cautious and deadly assassin plying his trade in hell.

Grummok does not usually fraternize with anyone outside his guild, finding most of the denizens of Erelhei-Cinlu beneath his recognition but on the rare occasions that the gargoyle feels sociable he will spend a few hours at a lavishly appointed tavern in the Ghetto of Foreigners called The Lady Eight. The Lady Eight is renowned for its gambling tables and the staggering variety of ales, wines and liquors that it serves. Grummok has become rather fond of a vintage served at the Lady Eight brewed from the blood of fey and on the rare occasions that he visits the tavern he enjoys a glass or two, while listening to the skilled minstrels that the Lady Eight always keeps on hand.

On the night Thagmot made his bid for vengeance Grummok had made one of his rare visits to the Lady Eight. The gargoyle was accompanied by Hek as the two planned to discuss a bit of side business they had going away from the prying eyes and ears of the guild. The two assassins chose a table in the back of the bar, nestled in a corner so that they could watch the door and have their backs to a wall. Grummok was on his third glass of blood wine and deep into his conversation with Hek when the maelstrom struck.

The first sign of danger came in the form of a sudden feeling of unease that crept over both assassins, they shared a momentary glance of alarm and then trusting the instincts they had honed over years of conflict and training, leapt from their seats and drew their weapons. Seconds later the main door to the Lady Eight, a solid iron braced affair, was struck by a tremendous weight from the opposite side and was knocked from its hinges with a tremendous crash. The stunned patrons of the Lady Eight sat transfixed as eight feet of towering malevolence stepped through the shattered portal and into the tavern.

The very air around the newcomer seemed to shrink back in horror and a palpable sense of utter blasphemy choked the shadowy interior of the tavern. The intruder was clad head to toe in glistening black plate, a bizarre black spiral motif worked onto every visible surface. An open faced helm crowned with two backwards curving horns adorned the intruders head and the bestial glare of its bugbear owner moved over the stunned crown of tavern patrons with a withering maliciousness. In his right mailed fist the bugbear gripped a weapon born of emptiness and terror; a halberd of dark steel wreathed in a shroud of crackling black flame. A low keening emanated from the weapon as if the tortured souls of its many victims had somehow left the imprint of their dying screams trapped within the steel.

All the patrons of the Lady Eight were familiar with evil in fact many reveled in it, including Grummok. But this, this was more than petty thievery or murder, this was the culmination of a soul given freely to the grasping emptiness of eternal damnation, this was evil in its purest most lethal form.

Grummok recognized the bugbear at once, although the recognition itself came as somewhat of a shock. When Grummok had last seen Thagmot he was little more than a petty thug, good for little more than a diversion or hired muscle. But the bugbear that confronted Grummok now seemed to pulse with unholy power and for one of the few times in his long life, Grummok was truly afraid.

Thagmot spotted Grummok almost instantly and he pointed his halberd at the gargoyle, “You!” he boomed his eyes blazing with hatred and fury. His quarry in his sights the massive bugbear took up his halberd in a two handed grip and began a methodical advance towards the two assassins. Grummok and Hek dropped low in a fighting crouch holding their daggers close to their bodies and awaited the iron clad behemoth and his terrible weapon.

 

[BLACKDIRGE]

Ok, sorry for the delay. Here is the second part of the fight with Thagmot. It took me a while to figure out whether I wanted to portray Grummok as a complete bastard or as an evil creture with a shred of decency. Hek seems to be the catalyst for both bad Grummok and not so bad Grummok, the following installment puts the gargoyle firmly in one of those camps. I hope that you like the direction I took.

Dirge

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The Blackguard's Vengeance Part II

As Thagmot advanced upon the two assassins the patrons of the Lady Eight took the opportunity to stream out behind the blackguard and out the shattered front door. The proprietor of the tavern, a grizzled drow mercenary by the name of Kadashar, was not about to see his livelihood chased out of his establishment blackguard or no. The old mercenary who had been conversing with his bartender when Thagmot demolished his front door, drew a pair of shortsword from concealed scabbards across his back and vaulted lithely over the bar to block Thagmot’s advance.

Kadashar wasted no time on parlay and launched a flurry of cuts at the bugbear's legs and midsection. The veteran warrior was skilled with his blades but he was seriously outclassed and his lightening fast slashes bounced harmlessly off of Thagmot's plate and halberd. The bugbear wasted no time in dispatching Kadashar, lashing out with blinding speed to catch the drow fighter’s leading foot with the hook of his halberd; then with a mighty jerk the bugbear yanked the drow warrior off of his feet dumping him on his back in a disheveled heap. To finish his adversary Thagmot shifted his weight and brought his halberd over and across his shoulders in a massive overhand blow that struck the downed drow warrior in the chest and nearly split him in two.

As Thagmot was wrenching his halberd from the corpse of Kadashar, Grummok and Hek sprang to the attack with Grummok rushing forward and Hek moving around to get behind the blackguard. Thagmot ignored Hek focusing solely on Grummok holding his now gore-spattered halberd out in front of him to keep the gargoyle at a distance. Grummok became a blur of lightening feints and parries, striking at the bugbear's defenses and the quickly tumbling away to avoid Thagmot’s deadly halberd. Thagmot for his part flailed away furiously at the gargoyle but his powerful strokes were avoided with ease as Grummok stayed just beyond his reach. With his attention fixed on Grummok Thagmot had allowed Hek to move into position behind him but the wily blackguard was not about to be caught between two assassins if he could help it.

Hek had drawn the dagger he had taken from the corpse of the fire genasi invoker slain by he and Grummok over five years ago. The dagger was heavily enchanted and imbued with the essence of fire so that the blade glowed red with withering heat upon command. Hek was moving silently up to the preoccupied bugbear preparing to plunge his dagger into the blackguard’s unprotected back. Thagmot was busy holding Grummok at bay and seemingly took no notice of Hek moving stealthily up behind him. When Hek was just a few paces away from the bugbear he raised his dagger and rushed forward to deliver a crippling strike but the cunning blackguard was ready for him.

With a speed that belied his great ponderous body, Thagmot whirled around his halberd leading and caught the stunned Hek squarely in the chest with weapon’s axe blade. The blow contained every bit of Thagmot’s momentum and staggering strength, lifting Hek off of his feet and flinging him away to lie in a broken heap amid the wreckage of the taverns chairs and tables. Grummok did not waste the opportunity presented by Thagmot’s momentary distraction and rushed the bugbear emitting a shrieking battle cry. The gargoyle leapt onto Thagmot’s back, snaking a scaly arm around the blackguard’s neck while raising his fiendish dagger with the other. Grummok clung to Thagmot with every ounce of strength he could muster and struck at the only unprotected part of the bugbears massive body, his face.

Grummok pistoned his arm up and over Thagmot’s open faced helm plunging his dagger into the bugbears face twice before Thagmot, writhing in agony, managed to shake the tenacious gargoyle off of his back. Grummok hit the ground and rolled to his feet his dagger poised to strike, but there was no need, the blackguard had lost all interest in the deadly assassin. Thagmot had stumbled back away from Grummok clutching the ruins of his face and howling in absolute torment. Grummok’s two strikes had inflicted grievous damage removing the bugbear’s right eye with the first while the second had plunged deep into the blackguard’s mouth, taking most of his upper lip and good portion of his tongue along with it.

His face a mask of agony and rage, Thagmot spared one last hate filled glare at Grummok and then turned and fled disappearing out the front door of the tavern and into the concealing darkness of Erelhei-Cinlu. Grummok had no doubt that he would see the maimed blackguard again, but now another stranger fear gripped him. Grummok’s gaze fell upon the unmoving form of Hek and an odd panic crashed into him; he realized the fear he was feeling was not for himself but for his fallen companion. The gargoyle had never known real friendship, for emotional attachments often got assassins killed but here it was, plain as the naked steel in his hand, he did not want Hek to die.

Grummok rushed to his felled companions side and sheathed his dagger. Hek sprawled on his back his face ashen, he was still breathing but his respiration came in short gasps through a bloody froth. Grummok gently opened up the front of the human’s tunic with a talon to reveal the fine links of his Mithral shirt. The armor had stopped the bite of the halberd but not the crushing force that drove it, Hek’s ribs were fractured and it was very likely that one of the ribs had punctured a lung. Hek would certainly die if he did not receive immediate attention; fortunately Grummok carried a healing potion for just such an occasion. The gargoyle plucked a small flask from underneath his armor and removed the stopper. He then tipped Hek’s head back, opened his mouth and poured the amber liquid from the potion bottle down Hek’s throat. The results were immediate, Hek’s breathing became deeper and more regular and some color returned to his face, bit he was still unconscious and required further healing.

Feeling it was safe to move his friend, Grummok scooped up the unconscious human and threw him over his broad scaled back. One of the roving patrols of drow soldiers would likely be here soon to investigate the commotion and Grummok had no desire to explain the carnage and destruction that had occurred. The gargoyle fled from the tavern and vaulted into the air careful not to jostle Hek too much in the process he then headed back towards the assassin’s guild where a skilled healer could look at Hek’s remaining wounds.

Grummok’s mind was awhirl as he flew; he was confused and angry at himself for allowing the friendship with Hek to develop. The gargoyle had known nothing but murder and treachery his whole life, to trust another was completely alien to him, and those that offered that kind of trust usually offered it just before they drove their dagger into your gut. But perhaps, if such loyalty were to exist it would be mutually beneficial to both parties, Grummok reasoned, for in the dangerous city of Erelhei-Cinlu another pair of eyes watching your back was a rare commodity.
Grummok looked down at the unconscious human in his arms and wondered, Hek had saved his life with no thought of blackmail or compensation but had done it simply out of the loyalty he felt for his master, perhaps there was some merit to that. Grummok found himself pondering the implications of his merciful actions in the tavern the entire flight home finally coming to the conclusion that only time would bring to light the strength of his loyalty and the price of friendship.

 

[BLACKDIRGE]

As promisd here sre the stats and histroy of Thagmot.

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Thagmot, male bugbear Ftr6/Rog1/Blk6: CR 15; ECL 17; Medium-size Humanoid (bugbear); HD 3d8+1d6+12d10+48; hp 151; Init +3; Spd 40 ft; AC 25 (+11 full plate, +1 Dex, +3 natural); Melee +3 unholy screaming halberd +24/+19/+14 (1d10+2d6 unholy + 1d6 sonic +14/19-20 crit x3); SA sneak attack +2d6, poison use, smite good, aura of despair, command undead; SQ Darkvision 60 ft, dark blessing, detect good; AL LE; SV Fort +16, Ref +12, Will +11; Str 22, Dex 16, Con 16, Int 13, Wis 14, Cha 16.

Skills: (45 points): Climb +8, Hide +9, Intimidate +9, Listen +9, Jump +8, Knowledge (religion) +5, Move Silently +12, Spot +9
Feats: (8) Weapon Focus (halberd), Weapon Specialization (Halberd), Power Attack, Cleave, Sunder, Improved Critical (halberd), Expertise, Improved Trip, Knockdown, Improved Disarm.
Blackguard Spells Prepared: (2/2/1; save DC 12 + spell level): 1st – cause fear, bone blast 2nd – darkness, devil’s eye 3rd – abyssal might.
Equipment: +3 unholy screaming halberd, +3 full plate of darksoul protection, helm of protection +2, boots of striding and springing, cloak of charisma +2, Gauntlets of Golgotha*

Smite Good (Su): Once per day Thagmot may attempt to bring the unholy power of Therizdun to bear in a melee attack. He may smite a good aligned opponent adding +3 to his attack roll and an additional six points of damage to his damage roll.

Aura of Despair (Su): Thagmot radiates an aura of absolute emptiness and horror that causes all enemies within 10 feet to suffer a –2 on all saving throws.

Poison Use: Grummok is trained in the use of poison and never risks accidentally poisoning himself when applying poison to a blade.

*Gauntlets of Golgotha: these chain and plate finger gauntlets are forged from black iron and bear the mark of some long forgotten deity of pain and darkness. They were specifically designed for the most devout warriors of evil and imbue their wielder with unhallowed might. The gauntlets bestow a +2 enhancement bonus to strength and cause any weapon wielded by the wearer of the gauntlets to gain the unholy weapon enchantment. In addition to the powers described above the Gauntlets of Golgotha allow the wielder to declare an “unhallowed strike” once per day inflicting maximum damage and automatically threatening a critical hit. The gauntlets’ powers only function for those devoted to the cause of evil and if a being of neutral or good alignment dons them he must immediately make a fortitude save DC 18 or be struck dead.



It is said that the vengeful soul falls to darkness before all others; such is the fate of the blackguard Thagmot. Thoroughly corrupted by the emptiness that has driven him to the edges of sanity the broken bugbear has embraced the teachings of the awful deity Therizdun and has slipped into the arms of madness and utter damnation. Nothing exists for Thagmot, beyond vengeance and a reckless pursuit of destruction, it is a pallid facsimile of existence, fleeting and unfulfilling.

Thagmot’s life was not always thus; he once was filled with ambition and a feral drive to succeed at all he put his mind to. A former slave, the bugbear gained his freedom when his masters in house Kilsek were driven from the city and all of their lands and belongings became forfeit. Not wanting to end up a slave in another household Thagmot fled to the Ghetto of Chattels, a dark and dangerous district of Erelhei-Cinlu that housed all manner of cast off humanoids and ex-slaves. Within this cesspool of humanoid debris, Thagmot’s keen mind and martial prowess soon elevated him to a position of power and prestige.

Thagmot had been part of house Kilsek’s elite guard and was an accomplished warrior, the bugbear thrived on conflict and violence and soon found a way to put his warlike nature to the best possible use. Six months after his arrival in the Ghetto of Chattels Thagmot had attracted a group of likeminded humanoids of all shapes and sizes seeking his protection and also a chance to make a better life for themselves. The mercantile bugbear soon began hiring himself and some of his followers out to various wealthy members of the city as bodyguards or extra muscle. This practice became so lucrative and Thagmot so successful that he no longer needed to take any risk himself and formed a thriving mercenary business, hiring out a virtual army of loyal thugs and cutthroats.

Thagmot’s reputation as a leader of vicious humanoid rabble grew throughout the city and soon the Ghetto of Chattels belonged to him and him alone. None dared enter Thagmot’s territory unless they were invited or had made prior arrangements to meet the powerful bugbear to discuss business. Thagmot was establishing an empire within his ghetto and was basking happily in the glow of wealth and success until a gargoyle assassin brought all that he had built to the ground in a single blow.

Grummok had arrived unannounced and unafraid on the doorstep of Thagmot’s demesne demanding to see the bugbear leader. None of Thagmot’s men had been able to detain the gargoyle and of the three that tried one would never walk again and the other two had become corpses before their blades even cleared their scabbards. Thagmot was intrigued with the deadly gargoyle and granted him an audience. Grummok’s offer and his five thousand gold pieces were hard to turn away, even if it meant that Thagmot himself must be involved personally. The gargoyle had been contracted to slay one of the deadliest warriors in the city, the house weapon master of the noble Tormtor family, and would require some extra blades to assist him. One of the conditions of the job was that Thagmot himself must accompany the gargoyle and lend his considerable skill to the task. Thagmot was skeptical but Grummok sweetened the deal by offering the salvage rights to the weapon master’s equipment once he was slain. The bugbear leader could hardly resist such a tempting offer and accepted the conditions promising himself and four of his finest warriors on the night the assassination was to take place.

The events of Azakai Tormtor’s assassination are well documented having become popular lore in the Ghetto of Foreigners, but few know of the bugbear mercenary who made it possible for Grummok to bring his blade to bear and bring low the powerful weapon master. Thagmot and his men had been used as a crude but effective diversion, occupying Azakai’s attention while Grummok moved into position. Once the deed was done the gargoyle left Thagmot to the mercy of the outraged tavern patrons of the Blighted Behir who had been betting on a battle between Thagmot and Azakai Tormtor. Cheated of their entertainment the enraged mob had turned on Thagmot and nearly slew him before he managed to fight his way clear of the tavern. Thagmot emerged from the Blighted Behir with nothing to show for his efforts but Azakai Tormtor’s enchanted saber, dropped when the weapon master was slain, and a deep and abiding hatred for the gargoyle assassin who had duped him and left him for dead.

Wounded and unable to return to the Ghetto of Chattels, Thagmot holed up in an abandoned building to lick his wounds and plot his revenge. When he was hale enough to return to his home another misfortune awaited him. News had traveled fast of Azakai Tormtor’s demise and the fact that Thagmot had not returned in over a week had led those in the bugbear’s employ to believe that he had been slain. When Thagmot limped back into the perceived safety of his domain he quickly found that things had changed dramatically in the days he had been away. Judok, a powerful minotaur warrior and one of Thagmot’s most trusted men had taken control of the bugbears organization of mercenaries and was not about to relinquish control back to its former leader. Thagmot was forcibly removed from the small empire he had so laboriously constructed by armed guards and warned never to return on pain of death.

Broken and empty Thagmot left the city of Erelhei-Cinlu to wander the vast network of tunnels that lay outside the lands of the drow. No one knows what Thagmot found in the stygian blackness and untraceable depths of the underdark but fifteen years after his downfall the bugbear appeared at the gates of Erelhei-Cinlu, a creature of darkness. Possessed of the will and power of Therizdun, Thagmot was a changed being, driven only by his thirst for vengeance and an unrivaled appetite for mayhem. The bugbear’s revenge was swift and terrible. The first to taste the dread power of Therizdun’s champion was Judok, the minotaur warrior who now controlled Thagmot’s former mercenary company. Thagmot simply marched into the Ghetto of Chattels, a black iron behemoth of horrific magnificence, slaying all who dared oppose him. When he had finally cornered Judok, Thagmot unleashed the power of Therizdun upon the hapless minotaur, smiting him with a terrible spell that caused his bones to shatter within the fleshy confines of his body. And when Judok lay screeching in torment, the jagged splinters of his own bones protruding through his shredded flesh, Thagmot left the minotaur to while away his last few moments in unbearable agony.

Having dealt with Judok, Thagmot left the ghetto of chattels and headed for a well-appointed tavern in the Ghetto of Artisans called the Lady Eight. There he would confront the assassin who had left him for dead so many years ago and finally claim the vengeance he had so carefully nurtured in the darkness of Therizdun’s shadow.

 

[BLACKDIRGE]

Sorry for the delay guys. It is another long one in two parts, but I hope you think it was worth the wait.

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Hunger Part I

Grummok (age 85): Male Gargoyle Rog 4/Asn8; CR 16; Medium Magical Beast; HD 4d10+12d6+90; hp 165; Init +9; Spd 45 ft., fly 75 ft. (perfect); AC 30 (+6 Dex, +4 natural, +7 studded leather armor, +3 ring); Atk +22 melee (1d6+6/19-20 x2, 2 claws), +18 melee (1d6+2, bite), +18 melee (1d6+2 gore) or +21/+16/+11 melee (1d4+8/17-20 x2, +4 keen distance fleshgrinding dagger) or +23/+18/+13 ranged (1d6 plus 1d6 shock +5/ crit x3, +3 shock mighty composite shortbow (Str 14)) ; SA sneak attack +6d6, death attack, poison use; SQ darkvision 60 ft., uncanny dodge (Dex to AC, can’t be flanked, +1 vs. traps), +4 saves vs. poison, DR 15/+1, freeze, evasion; AL NE; SV Fort +16, Ref +18, Will +8; Str 18, Dex 24, Con 22, Int 18, Wis 12, Cha 12.

Skills (119 pts): Bluff +10, Craft (poison making) +10, Disguise +10, Escape Artist +13, Gather Information +10, Hide +30, Intimidate +6, Listen +12, Move Silently +25, Open Lock +13, Search +10, Sense Motive +10, Spot +12, Tumble +15.
Feats: Multiattack, Weapon Finesse (claw, bite, gore), Exotic Weapon Proficiency (garrote), Improved Initiative, Improved Critical (claws), Two Weapon Fighting
Languages: Undercommon, Terran, Drow
Possessions: +4 shadowed studded leather armor, boots of elvenkind, wire garrote, ring of advanced magic fang +2, belt of giant strength +4, +4 keen distance fleshgrinding dagger, +2 dagger, ring of protection +3, head band of intellect +2, gloves of dexterity +6, ring of minor elemental protection (fire), amulet of the zephyr, +3 shock mighty composite shortbow (Str 14), 20 +3 arrows
Assassin Spells Prepared: (3/2/2/2; save DC 14 + spell level): 1st -- change self, angry ache, obscuring mist. 2nd – alter self, darkness. 3rd – invisibility, sadism 4th – improved invisibility, dimension door

Freeze (Ex): Grummok can hold himself so still that he appears to be a statue. An observer must succeed at a Spot check (DC 20) to notice Grummok is really alive.

Evasion (Ex): If exposed to any effect that normally allows a character to attempt a Reflex saving throw for half damage, Grummok takes no damage with a successful saving throw.

Death Attack: If Grummok studies his victim for 3 rounds and then makes a sneak attack within the next 3 rounds with a melee weapon that successfully deals damage, the sneak attack may also paralyze or kill the target (Grummok's choice). A victim who fails his or her Fortitude saving throw (DC 22) against the kill effect dies. If the saving throw fails against the paralysis, the victim's mind and body become enervated, making him or her completely helpless and unable to act for 1d6+1 rounds.

Poison Use: Grummok is trained in the use of poison and never risks accidentally poisoning himself when applying poison to a blade.

Hek survived his wounds inflicted by the blackguard Thagmot but did not recover as quickly as Grummok had hoped. The gargoyle noticed that his longtime companion was showing the effects of his age. Now in his fifties, Hek’s body was a brutal testimony to his harsh life, while Grummok’s preternatural physiology and magical nature allowed him to function undeterred despite his eighty plus years. But another ailment inflicts Hek, one that Grummok has tried very hard to understand, a disease of the soul grips the aging human for his heart is infected with the terrible memories of his life and they are slowly consuming him.

Since the battle with Thagmot Grummok and Hek have spent much time together, drinking and telling stories at various inns around the city. Grummok has come to terms with his odd dependency on Hek and has learned that the company of another sentient creature offers rewards beyond what you can take at the point of a dagger. Hek has found Grummok to be an eager listener and the human has obliged the gargoyle by sharing the one precious thing he still retains, his early memories of the surface. Grummok is intrigued by the sunlit worlds above and by Hek’s description of his family and the small town of Hommlet where he was born. But Hek’s story as Grummok knows quickly deteriorates into one of despair and pain, and oddly enough this fact has kindled a cold and terrible rage within the gargoyle’s soul.

Friendship is a commodity that Grummok has never known and the terrible treatment of the young Hek at the hands of Shebon Mot in the horrid brothel where the young human was imprisoned for three years sparks a murderous hatred in the gargoyle assassin that lately has begun to consume him. Grummok has carefully hidden his anger from Hek but seeks a way to strike out at those that tormented his friend for so long. With Shebon Mot long dead there is only one remaining person in Hek’s history where Grummok can hang is rage, Hunnek Garekon, Madame and owner of the Fairer Flesh brothel. Grummok’s rage finally compelled him to action on the day of Hek’s fifty-seventh birthday and the gargoyle set out to grant a gift of vengeance to his tormented human friend.

The Fairer Flesh brothel has squatted like a fat perverse toad in the Ghetto of Outcasts for as long as anyone can remember. Its current proprietor, a fat and ugly drow woman by the name of Hunnek Garekon runs a brisk business peddling flesh to the perverse lusts of the sprawling drow city. Hunnek’s brothel is well known for offering numerous young and unmarred elves and humans from the surface lands and has become very popular among the more deviant members of Erelhei-Cinlu’s aristocracy. Hunnek herself is rarely seen and business is conducted in the common room of her brothel by one of her two troglodyte employees who also serve as bouncers and bodyguards.

Grummok had no desire for a stand-up fight with Madame Hunnek as she was rumored to be priestess of no small power. His plan was to simply enter the Fairer Flesh undetected and murder Madame Hunnek before any alarm could be raised. On the night Grummok set out to perform the assassination the Fairer Flesh was in full swing and full of patrons. Grummok entered the seedy establishment under the cloak of magical invisibility and all his senses were immediately assaulted with a miasma of degradation and hopelessness that clung to the place like a death shroud.

Madame Hunnek had made few attempts to mask the squalor and filth of her establishment, which was little more than dank cave carved into a massive stalagmite. The rough stone floor of the common room was haphazardly covered with frayed rugs of the cheapest quality and a number of ill-treated and very stained couches provided the only place for patrons to sit while they chose their pleasure. The room reeked of smoke and perfume all overshadowed by the stench of the two troglodytes that kept the peace and conducted all business transactions for Madame Hunnek. The pleasure slaves were all lined up against the far wall of the common room for all the patrons to view. Their ages and races ran the gamut but regardless of their years or origin each one bared the scars of their ill treatment by the Fairer Flesh’s patrons. Attempts had been made to cover up the bruises and badly healed broken bones but nothing could hide the despair and torment that had left an indelible stain upon the faces of these broken innocents.

Grummok watched the patrons of the Fairer Flesh, mostly wealthy merchants and nobility who were enjoying an evening of “slumming”, as they mingled or selected a pleasure slave to take upstairs and be “entertained”. Rage began to burn beneath Grummok’s skin at the casual brutality inflicted upon the helpless courtesans, not because their suffering bothered him for in truth he cared little for anyone beyond himself and now Hek. What kindled the fires of hatred in Grummok was that in each one of the battered pathetic creatures that stared blankly from the line of pleasure slaves he saw Hek’s face. The face of the boy Grummok had left behind, the face of his friend.

Grummok marked each of the patrons in the common room for he would find them eventually, alone and in the endless dark of Erelhei-Cinlu they would suffer just as Hek had. But now Grummok had far greater concerns and he ached to sink his claws into the mastermind behind all of the pain that lingered in the common room and gnawed at the gargoyle’s soul. Grummok crept to the simple stone stairway that wound its way up to the second floor; Madame Hunnek’s chambers would likely be there. The second floor was little more than crudely carved tunnel with small open chambers jutting off to the left and right. The chambers did not even have doors and were covered only by a ratty curtain that did nothing to hide the terrible sights and sounds taking place beyond. At the end of the tunnel two large ironbound doors were set into the stone and were guarded by a single troglodyte resting on a barbed spear and looking very bored.

Troglodytes were somewhat rare in Erelhei-Cinlu for the barbarous reptilian humanoids typically had no use for civilization or its trappings. Grummok wondered what Madame Hunnek’s connection to the foul scaled creatures could be and why they would show any loyalty to a drow priestess.

Invisible and silent Grummok scanned the tunnel noting that he and the troglodyte were alone, the occupants of the various rooms were far too involved to notice or hear anything beyond the pursuit of their own perversion. The guard would have to be dealt with but Grummok would have to drop his invisibility spell to do it, fortunately he had memorized another for just such a situation. Grummok studied the troglodyte, noting his lack of armor but seeing that his thick scales would provide ample protection from most attacks. The gargoyle surmised that the scales would be thinnest at the base of the trog’s neck and a dagger strike there would certainly kill or incapacitate the humanoid. Grummok drew his dagger and crept silently up to the troglodyte warrior, its large lidless eyes were fixed straight ahead and it seemed to have taken no notice of its impending doom. Grummok was a few paces away from the troglodyte when its small nostrils suddenly dilated with a quick intake of breath and its body tensed, the spear it had been holding no longer at rest but held threateningly out in front of its body.

It had smelled him! Grummok realized with a start. The gargoyle noted however that the troglodyte had not actually seen him and was scanning the short tunnel frantically in a vain attempt to locate the presence it had sensed. Grummok gave the trog no chance to home in on him and rushed forward, still invisible, to plunge his dagger into the humanoid's throat. The troglodyte made no sound as Grummok ripped his dagger from its throat in a wide sweeping arc so that the wound was a wide and gaping slash. Black ichor gushed from the trog’s neck and he sank to the rough stone floor to silently bleed to death.

Grummok was now visible and had a body to contend with. The gargoyle noticed that the small chamber closest to him was empty so he dragged the limp form of the troglodyte into the cramped confines and drew the curtain. Grummok then mouthed another incantation and disappeared, once again under the concealment of magical invisibility. The huge pool of black troglodyte ichor was removed in a similar fashion; a simple illusion spell masking the damning fluid from view.

A possible catastrophe diverted Grummok turned his attention back to the ironbound doors, which likely led to Hunnek’s private chambers. The doors were of course locked and trapped, but the locking mechanism was simple and the trap was nothing more than an amateurish poison needle hidden in the one of the huge iron pullrings used to open the door. Grummok had the door unlocked and untrapped in seconds and slid silently into Hunnek’s inner sanctum.

The room was not as Grummok had expected it to be. He had been prepared for an opulently furnished bedroom with all the luxuries a wealthy drow woman like Hunnek could afford. What he found instead was what appeared to be little more than the lair of some beast. The room had once contained furniture but most of it had been reduced to splinters and along with the shredded bedding and linen had been used to create something that could only be described as a nest. The nest was some 10 feet across and dominated most of the room, a huge depression on the center of the mass of refuse indicated the a large creature had recently lain there and the stench of its body still lingered heavily in the air.

The leavings of the beast's meals were evident as well; bones and shreds of rotting flesh littered the ground in stinking piles of offal and by the nature of the bones Grummok surmised that courtesans who had lost their profitability ended up here. The stink in the air was nearly intolerable but Grummok was no stranger to carnage and the reek of human and elven flesh was not unpleasant to him.

The only other thing of note within the abattoir was a crude altar of black basalt on which rested a most curious carved stone idol. About the size of two clenched fists the idol was an unsubtle rendering of a strange toad like creature that exhibited reptilian features as well as amphibian. There was something all together perverse and unwholesome about the small statue and it was obviously a religious icon of some sort but depicted no deity Grummok had ever heard mention of.

The gargoyle was more than a little perplexed. What had Madame Hunnek become involved in and what manner of creature laired in what obviously used to be her chamber. Perhaps the beast had devoured Hunnek herself but it seemed unlikely that troglodytes would have any interest in running a brothel. Something very strange was happening here and Grummok began to wonder what he had stumbled onto.

Something unsettling pricked at the edge of Grummok’s thoughts, how would a creature as large as the one that obviously laired here move from place to place. It certainly could not go through the front door for the patrons of the Fairer Flesh would likely not appreciate their debauchery interrupted by a rampaging beast. Grummok concluded that the beast would have to leave via another exit and began searching the walls and floors of the chamber for hidden doors. It did not take him long to find what he was looking for, casually concealed beneath a pile of shredded blood stained clothes was a large trapdoor. Grummok examined the edge of the trapdoor wary for any traps or alarms but found nothing and on further investigation concluded that the opening would be large enough to permit quite a large creature.

With no other avenues left to explore Grummok grasped the iron pull ring on the trapdoor and pulled it up from the floor with one mighty heave. The stench that bellowed forth from the dark aperture was unlike anything Grummok had ever experienced and he fell back choking and gagging his eyes watering from the horrendous stink. When the air had cleared a bit and Grummok was able to breathe he crept back to the black hole in the floor and peered down. The trapdoor opened into a vertical tunnel with crude handholds spaced evenly down the length of the tunnel wall in place of a latter. The shaft appeared to descend some thirty feet and then open into a horizontal tunnel running east under the brothel. With no hesitation Grummok slipped into the yawning darkness beyond the trapdoor and began descending down the tunnel wall.