BLACKDIRGE
Adventurer
Ok here is part two of the last Grummok installment. Unfortunately I have gotten so into to writing this one that there will have to be a part three as well. Hope you guys don't mind.
Man, if I keep this up they're gonna ship me over to the story hour boards.
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Hunger Part II
The shaft beneath the trapdoor descended thirty feet into the darkness before opening up into a long tunnel running east. The shaft terminated at the ceiling of the horizontal tunnel requiring Grummok to jump the final ten feet to the tunnel floor. The gargoyle landed silently and gazed down the length of the subterranean passage. The tunnel ran ahead beyond the range of Grummok’s darkvision but he detected a faint glow in the distance that appeared to be some kind of artificial illumination.
Grummok had virtually no idea what awaited him at the end of the tunnel and had no desire to walk into a potential lethal situation armed with only his dagger. The gargoyle had assumed that Madam Hunnek would be a powerful adversary and had brought along the means to dispose of the drow cleric at a distance. Grummok reached into a pouch on his belt, which to any onlooker would appear quite normal, that is until the gargoyle slipped his whole hand and most of his arm into the container, which was no bigger than a large sized coin purse. The pouch in actuality was heavily enchanted and contained an extra dimensional space that was much larger that the pouch appeared on the outside. Grummok had taken it off of one of his many victims and found it useful to carry items he might need without weighing himself down with too much equipment.
From the pouch Grummok pulled a long lacquered case of beautifully carved wood and a quiver of black fletched arrows. The case bore the markings of the drow god Vhaerun and from it Grummok removed a bow of exquisite craftsmanship and absolute lethality. Made entirely of black adamantine the weapon was a gracefully recurved shortbow decorated with a scrolling lightning motif on every available surface. When Grummok bent the bow in order to string it, it gave of a barely audible hum of magical energy and small bolts of harmless lightning flared down the length of the taut bowstring.
With the bow assembled Grummok attached the quiver of arrows to his belt and immediately nocked one of the adamantine tipped missiles to his bow. Grummok had taken the shortbow from a rival assassin whom the gargoyle had slain over ten years ago. He had had no use for the bow until now and currently felt very grateful for the cool metallic feel of the weapon in his grasp.
Still under the cloak of his invisibility spell Grummok crept forward towards the flickering light at the end of the tunnel. His footfalls were absolutely silent and the gargoyles keen senses strained to hear, feel, and even taste every minute change in his environment. As he neared the source of the illumination voices carried out across the darkness to his awaiting ears. The sibilant rasping hiss of the troglodyte tongue whispered down the tunnel and stopped Grummok in his tracks. The gargoyle strained to hear the voices more clearly, although he was unable to understand the language he was able to determine the number of speakers. Grummok concluded that two troglodytes were conversing within the lighted area ahead. The gargoyle had detected no alarm in their speech patterns and surmised that his presence had remained unnoticed.
Grummok began to move forward again and in scant moments stood outside the very edge of the lighted area that was a small open cavern of crudely worked stone roughly squared at thirty feet to a side. Two flickering torches in iron wall sconces provided the feeble illumination Grummok had seen from the other end of the tunnel. The chamber was in all rather unremarkable, barren besides a set of immense double doors of black basalt some twenty feet wide and at least double that in height. The doors were etched with runes and sigils that Grummok could not begin to identify. Only one thing stood out in his mind as recognizable, in the center of each door a crude etching of the frog/lizard thing he had seen on the altar in Hunnek’s chamber leered out in mute savagery. Its gaping maw hanging open inviting sacrifice and death to all whom came near.
Beside the doors stood two large troglodytes, each topping nearly seven feet in height. The trog’s were armored in shirts of black chainmail and gripped barbed long spears like the guard upstairs. They were conversing in the strange hissing tongue and their kind and seemed to have taken no notice of Grummok who stood invisible not more than 40 paces away. Grummok recalled the troglodytes he had slain upstairs and the humanoid’s keen sense of smell that had ruined the assassins surprise attack. Grummok had no desire to enter into hand-to-hand combat with these two brutish troglodytes and raised his bow, drawing his arrow back and sighting in on the troglodyte standing to the left of the great basalt door.
The twang of Grummok’s bowstring rang out in the confined space of the small chamber and the gargoyles missile struck his target with a meaty thud and a shower of sparks. The magic of Grummok’s bow transformed his arrow into a miniature lightening bolt and the impossibly hard adamantine head of the missile drove through the troglodytes neck with such force that it lodged in the stone behind the humanoid pinning his dying body to the wall.
Grummok’s first shot had neutralized his target but had also nullified his invisibility spell leaving him in plain view of the second troglodyte. Unfortunately for it the troglodyte had over thirty feet to cover before it could bring its weapon to bear on the intruding gargoyle. Grummok had to admire the courage of the troglodyte as it charged directly towards him spear lowered for an impaling lunge, but Grummok was no fool and had no desire to be spitted by the charging humanoid. Grummok’s hand became a blur as he snapped off three shots from his bow and half a second later three arrows slammed into the charging troglodyte’s chest piercing clean through the hardened links of his mail in a shower of blue sparks. The troglodyte was knocked off of his feet by the impaling force of Grummok’s arrows, crashing to the ground with a gasp. The troglodyte struggled feebly to rise for a few moments before finally succumbing to its wounds the slight odor of burnt flesh and ozone rising of its inert form.
Grummok crept forward with another arrow nocked to his bow making sure the two troglodytes were no longer a threat. Satisfied that his targets would cause him no further trouble he retrieved the enchanted arrows he had spent and replaced them in his quiver. Grummok then turned his attention to the huge basalt doors studying the strange sigils and etchings that covered its surface. Staring up at the colossal doors Grummok felt a sense of great age, the doors were certainly older than the brothel, and in fact they might possibly have been older than the city of Erelhei-Cinlu itself. Curiosity burning within him Grummok searched for a way to open the massive doors but his initial search found nothing but cold weathered stone. Undeterred Grummok searched every square inch of the black basalt that he could reach; eventually finding a catch concealed in the maw of one of the frog/lizard etchings. Fingering the hidden apparatus caused the doors to vibrate with a soft rumbling and Grummok stepped back to watch the gargantuan doors slowly swing open with a grinding roar.
Beyond the doors lay a wall of impenetrable murk that even Grummok’s darkvision had difficulty piercing. But the stench that oozed forth from the stygian darkness was even worse than what the gargoyle had experienced in Hunnek’s chamber. Somewhat inured to the horrible stink that seemed to dominate the underground complex, Grummok held his breath until the air cleared a bit and then stepped to the edge of the yawning aperture.
Straining to see Grummok could make out very little beyond the stone floor a few feet from the door. Grummok like many subterranean dwellers was blessed with sight that worked equally well in darkness and in light but for some reason the bizarre gloom that confronted him now foiled his darkvision completely. Perplexed Grummok retrieved one of the two torches that lay within the small chamber and for the first time in his life was forced to rely on artificial illumination. The darkness beyond the door retreated from the light as if burned and the torch cast far more light than Grummok thought possible from such a small flame.
The torch forced Grummok to sling his bow and he drew his dagger to hold in his right hand while he held the torch in his left. Fear began to creep up the length of gargoyle’s spine but he ignored it and stepped through the massive portal and into the depths beyond. A worked stone passageway awaited Grummok beyond the door and stretched ahead into the blackness beyond the torchlight.
Hating his dependency on the torch as it allowed him no stealth whatsoever Grummok crept forward regardless. The walls were bare in the passageway and a balmy heat hung in the air. Grummok walked along slowly, wary of any traps that might await his feet in the darkness. After roughly three hundred counted paces Grummok saw light ahead once again and snuffed his own torch so as not to give away his position to any enemies that might lie in wait.
The passageway opened into an immense chamber dominated by a colossal statue of the weird frog/lizard hybrid creature the gargoyle had seen throughout the complex. The worked stonewalls were carved with all manner of twisted frog-like beings cavorting and committing every conceivable act of atrocity upon humans, elves and other surface races. Beneath the massive statue was sacrificial altar that held the still bleeding corpse of what Grummok assumed was one of the pleasure slaves from the brothel above. The real horror was what stood in front of the altar, crimson dripping dagger clenched in one taloned hand. In all his time in Erelhei-Cinlu Grummok had never seen a creature as foul or universally “wrong” as the beast that confronted him here in the forgotten temple of this terrible deity. It was humanoid in form but was swathed in layer upon layer of flabby flesh that hung in grotesque folds from its mammoth form. It towered easily over nine feet in height and its scaly skin glistened with a thick viscous slime that dripped constantly from its body and had formed a pool around its feet. The misshapen head of the beast was crowned with a ropy mop of lank white hair that clung to its skull in slime-slicked tufts. The creature had not detected him and had its back turned while it busied itself with the corpse in front on the altar.
Grummok watched both horrified and intrigued as the creature bent over the prostrate from of the slain courtesan and the sounds of ripping meat filled the temple. Blood and gobbets of flesh dripped down the side of the altar as the beast feasted and Grummok wondered what in all the layers of the abyss had he unwittingly stumbled into. Grummok’s stupor was suddenly broken as the beast’s head snapped up from its grisly feast and it began to make deep grunting snuffling noises. Grummok cursed himself for a fool. The thing had smelled him.
With a speed that belied it ungainly form the beast suddenly whirled around treating Grummok to the mind numbing terror of its visage. The huge fleshy body was clad only in a ragged breach clout over its swollen hips and the huge pendulous breasts hanging from its chest identified it as female, but the true horror lie in the thing’s face. A low-sloped brow sat above two small deep-set reptilian eyes, below that were two cavernous nostrils that amounted to little more than holes cut into the creature’s skull. A wide maw filled with flesh rending shards of bone dominated the beast’s face, and as it began to lurch forward towards Grummok that terrible maw opened wide, impossibly wide as if the beast’s whole head had suddenly become nothing more than a hungry tooth filled hole. But there was more to this nightmare, for within the blasphemous architecture of the creature’s visage was something familiar, the noble features of a drow elf twisted almost beyond recognition stared out of that horrible face. Grummok’s mind quailed in the terrible light of truth; he had found Madame Hunnek at last.
Man, if I keep this up they're gonna ship me over to the story hour boards.
*************************************************
Hunger Part II
The shaft beneath the trapdoor descended thirty feet into the darkness before opening up into a long tunnel running east. The shaft terminated at the ceiling of the horizontal tunnel requiring Grummok to jump the final ten feet to the tunnel floor. The gargoyle landed silently and gazed down the length of the subterranean passage. The tunnel ran ahead beyond the range of Grummok’s darkvision but he detected a faint glow in the distance that appeared to be some kind of artificial illumination.
Grummok had virtually no idea what awaited him at the end of the tunnel and had no desire to walk into a potential lethal situation armed with only his dagger. The gargoyle had assumed that Madam Hunnek would be a powerful adversary and had brought along the means to dispose of the drow cleric at a distance. Grummok reached into a pouch on his belt, which to any onlooker would appear quite normal, that is until the gargoyle slipped his whole hand and most of his arm into the container, which was no bigger than a large sized coin purse. The pouch in actuality was heavily enchanted and contained an extra dimensional space that was much larger that the pouch appeared on the outside. Grummok had taken it off of one of his many victims and found it useful to carry items he might need without weighing himself down with too much equipment.
From the pouch Grummok pulled a long lacquered case of beautifully carved wood and a quiver of black fletched arrows. The case bore the markings of the drow god Vhaerun and from it Grummok removed a bow of exquisite craftsmanship and absolute lethality. Made entirely of black adamantine the weapon was a gracefully recurved shortbow decorated with a scrolling lightning motif on every available surface. When Grummok bent the bow in order to string it, it gave of a barely audible hum of magical energy and small bolts of harmless lightning flared down the length of the taut bowstring.
With the bow assembled Grummok attached the quiver of arrows to his belt and immediately nocked one of the adamantine tipped missiles to his bow. Grummok had taken the shortbow from a rival assassin whom the gargoyle had slain over ten years ago. He had had no use for the bow until now and currently felt very grateful for the cool metallic feel of the weapon in his grasp.
Still under the cloak of his invisibility spell Grummok crept forward towards the flickering light at the end of the tunnel. His footfalls were absolutely silent and the gargoyles keen senses strained to hear, feel, and even taste every minute change in his environment. As he neared the source of the illumination voices carried out across the darkness to his awaiting ears. The sibilant rasping hiss of the troglodyte tongue whispered down the tunnel and stopped Grummok in his tracks. The gargoyle strained to hear the voices more clearly, although he was unable to understand the language he was able to determine the number of speakers. Grummok concluded that two troglodytes were conversing within the lighted area ahead. The gargoyle had detected no alarm in their speech patterns and surmised that his presence had remained unnoticed.
Grummok began to move forward again and in scant moments stood outside the very edge of the lighted area that was a small open cavern of crudely worked stone roughly squared at thirty feet to a side. Two flickering torches in iron wall sconces provided the feeble illumination Grummok had seen from the other end of the tunnel. The chamber was in all rather unremarkable, barren besides a set of immense double doors of black basalt some twenty feet wide and at least double that in height. The doors were etched with runes and sigils that Grummok could not begin to identify. Only one thing stood out in his mind as recognizable, in the center of each door a crude etching of the frog/lizard thing he had seen on the altar in Hunnek’s chamber leered out in mute savagery. Its gaping maw hanging open inviting sacrifice and death to all whom came near.
Beside the doors stood two large troglodytes, each topping nearly seven feet in height. The trog’s were armored in shirts of black chainmail and gripped barbed long spears like the guard upstairs. They were conversing in the strange hissing tongue and their kind and seemed to have taken no notice of Grummok who stood invisible not more than 40 paces away. Grummok recalled the troglodytes he had slain upstairs and the humanoid’s keen sense of smell that had ruined the assassins surprise attack. Grummok had no desire to enter into hand-to-hand combat with these two brutish troglodytes and raised his bow, drawing his arrow back and sighting in on the troglodyte standing to the left of the great basalt door.
The twang of Grummok’s bowstring rang out in the confined space of the small chamber and the gargoyles missile struck his target with a meaty thud and a shower of sparks. The magic of Grummok’s bow transformed his arrow into a miniature lightening bolt and the impossibly hard adamantine head of the missile drove through the troglodytes neck with such force that it lodged in the stone behind the humanoid pinning his dying body to the wall.
Grummok’s first shot had neutralized his target but had also nullified his invisibility spell leaving him in plain view of the second troglodyte. Unfortunately for it the troglodyte had over thirty feet to cover before it could bring its weapon to bear on the intruding gargoyle. Grummok had to admire the courage of the troglodyte as it charged directly towards him spear lowered for an impaling lunge, but Grummok was no fool and had no desire to be spitted by the charging humanoid. Grummok’s hand became a blur as he snapped off three shots from his bow and half a second later three arrows slammed into the charging troglodyte’s chest piercing clean through the hardened links of his mail in a shower of blue sparks. The troglodyte was knocked off of his feet by the impaling force of Grummok’s arrows, crashing to the ground with a gasp. The troglodyte struggled feebly to rise for a few moments before finally succumbing to its wounds the slight odor of burnt flesh and ozone rising of its inert form.
Grummok crept forward with another arrow nocked to his bow making sure the two troglodytes were no longer a threat. Satisfied that his targets would cause him no further trouble he retrieved the enchanted arrows he had spent and replaced them in his quiver. Grummok then turned his attention to the huge basalt doors studying the strange sigils and etchings that covered its surface. Staring up at the colossal doors Grummok felt a sense of great age, the doors were certainly older than the brothel, and in fact they might possibly have been older than the city of Erelhei-Cinlu itself. Curiosity burning within him Grummok searched for a way to open the massive doors but his initial search found nothing but cold weathered stone. Undeterred Grummok searched every square inch of the black basalt that he could reach; eventually finding a catch concealed in the maw of one of the frog/lizard etchings. Fingering the hidden apparatus caused the doors to vibrate with a soft rumbling and Grummok stepped back to watch the gargantuan doors slowly swing open with a grinding roar.
Beyond the doors lay a wall of impenetrable murk that even Grummok’s darkvision had difficulty piercing. But the stench that oozed forth from the stygian darkness was even worse than what the gargoyle had experienced in Hunnek’s chamber. Somewhat inured to the horrible stink that seemed to dominate the underground complex, Grummok held his breath until the air cleared a bit and then stepped to the edge of the yawning aperture.
Straining to see Grummok could make out very little beyond the stone floor a few feet from the door. Grummok like many subterranean dwellers was blessed with sight that worked equally well in darkness and in light but for some reason the bizarre gloom that confronted him now foiled his darkvision completely. Perplexed Grummok retrieved one of the two torches that lay within the small chamber and for the first time in his life was forced to rely on artificial illumination. The darkness beyond the door retreated from the light as if burned and the torch cast far more light than Grummok thought possible from such a small flame.
The torch forced Grummok to sling his bow and he drew his dagger to hold in his right hand while he held the torch in his left. Fear began to creep up the length of gargoyle’s spine but he ignored it and stepped through the massive portal and into the depths beyond. A worked stone passageway awaited Grummok beyond the door and stretched ahead into the blackness beyond the torchlight.
Hating his dependency on the torch as it allowed him no stealth whatsoever Grummok crept forward regardless. The walls were bare in the passageway and a balmy heat hung in the air. Grummok walked along slowly, wary of any traps that might await his feet in the darkness. After roughly three hundred counted paces Grummok saw light ahead once again and snuffed his own torch so as not to give away his position to any enemies that might lie in wait.
The passageway opened into an immense chamber dominated by a colossal statue of the weird frog/lizard hybrid creature the gargoyle had seen throughout the complex. The worked stonewalls were carved with all manner of twisted frog-like beings cavorting and committing every conceivable act of atrocity upon humans, elves and other surface races. Beneath the massive statue was sacrificial altar that held the still bleeding corpse of what Grummok assumed was one of the pleasure slaves from the brothel above. The real horror was what stood in front of the altar, crimson dripping dagger clenched in one taloned hand. In all his time in Erelhei-Cinlu Grummok had never seen a creature as foul or universally “wrong” as the beast that confronted him here in the forgotten temple of this terrible deity. It was humanoid in form but was swathed in layer upon layer of flabby flesh that hung in grotesque folds from its mammoth form. It towered easily over nine feet in height and its scaly skin glistened with a thick viscous slime that dripped constantly from its body and had formed a pool around its feet. The misshapen head of the beast was crowned with a ropy mop of lank white hair that clung to its skull in slime-slicked tufts. The creature had not detected him and had its back turned while it busied itself with the corpse in front on the altar.
Grummok watched both horrified and intrigued as the creature bent over the prostrate from of the slain courtesan and the sounds of ripping meat filled the temple. Blood and gobbets of flesh dripped down the side of the altar as the beast feasted and Grummok wondered what in all the layers of the abyss had he unwittingly stumbled into. Grummok’s stupor was suddenly broken as the beast’s head snapped up from its grisly feast and it began to make deep grunting snuffling noises. Grummok cursed himself for a fool. The thing had smelled him.
With a speed that belied it ungainly form the beast suddenly whirled around treating Grummok to the mind numbing terror of its visage. The huge fleshy body was clad only in a ragged breach clout over its swollen hips and the huge pendulous breasts hanging from its chest identified it as female, but the true horror lie in the thing’s face. A low-sloped brow sat above two small deep-set reptilian eyes, below that were two cavernous nostrils that amounted to little more than holes cut into the creature’s skull. A wide maw filled with flesh rending shards of bone dominated the beast’s face, and as it began to lurch forward towards Grummok that terrible maw opened wide, impossibly wide as if the beast’s whole head had suddenly become nothing more than a hungry tooth filled hole. But there was more to this nightmare, for within the blasphemous architecture of the creature’s visage was something familiar, the noble features of a drow elf twisted almost beyond recognition stared out of that horrible face. Grummok’s mind quailed in the terrible light of truth; he had found Madame Hunnek at last.
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) than it did.
