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Message: <blockquote data-quote="BLACKDIRGE" data-source="post: 791053" data-attributes="member: 1953">Ok here is the first part of the final installment of Grummok. Sorry for the delay. The installment will probably be in three parts give or take especially if the literary diarrhea I am prone to sets in. <img src="https://cdn.jsdelivr.net/joypixels/assets/8.0/png/unicode/64/1f600.png" class="smilie smilie--emoji" loading="lazy" width="64" height="64" alt=":D" title="Big grin    :D"  data-smilie="8"data-shortname=":D" /> Dirge***************************************************Scourge of the Archfiend, Part IGrummok (age 98): Male Gargoyle Rog 4/Asn10; CR 18; Medium Magical Beast; HD 4d10+14d6+96; hp 183; Init +11; Spd 45 ft., fly 75 ft. (perfect); AC 30 (+6 Dex, +4 natural, +7 studded leather armor, +3 ring); Atk +23 melee (1d6+7/19-20 x2, 2 claws), +18 melee (1d6+2, bite), +18 melee (1d6+2 gore) or +21/+16/+11 melee (1d4+9/17-20 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 +7d6, death attack, poison use; SQ darkvision 60 ft., uncanny dodge (Dex to AC, can’t be flanked, +2 vs. traps), +5 saves vs. poison, DR 15/+1, freeze, evasion; AL NE; SV Fort +17, Ref +19, Will +9; Str 20, Dex 24, Con 22, Int 18, Wis 12, Cha 12.    Skills (135 pts): Bluff +10, Craft (poison making) +14, Disguise +10, Escape Artist +13, Gather Information +12, Hide +30, Intimidate +6, Listen +12, Move Silently +25, Open Lock +15, Search +12, Sense Motive +12, Spot +14, Tumble +19.  Feats: Multiattack, Weapon Finesse (claw, bite, gore), Exotic Weapon Proficiency (garrote), Improved Initiative, Improved Critical (claws), Two Weapon Fighting, Ambidexterity     Languages: Undercommon, Terran, Drow  Possessions: +4 shadowed studded leather armor, boots of elvenkind, ring of advanced magic fang +2, belt of giant strength +6, +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: (3/3/3/2; save DC 14 + spell level): 1st -- change self, angry ache, obscuring mist. 2nd – alter self, darkness, pass without trace. 3rd – invisibility, sadism, nondetection 4th – improved invisibility, dimension doorFreeze (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 24) 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 defeated many foes in his long and storied life but the reach of these fallen enemies sometimes extends from beyond the grave. The face of Shebon Mot has haunted Grummok these past weeks since the death of Mistress Despana. The cruel and perverse drow assassin had been Grummok’s mentor and one of Hek’s tormentors at the fairer flesh brothel. The vile drow was also the head of a secret cult devoted to the archdevil Baalezebul, a cult whose members were slain one by one by Grummok himself. The gargoyle assassin thought never to see the fly head sigil of Baalzebul again but the arch devil has a long reach and much influence and has now resurfaced at the hand of Grummok’s former friend and apprentice, Hek.Grummok is now truly tormented, for he knows that his former friend is not the man he once was and his association with Baalzebul has certainly pushed his fragile mind over the brink of madness. Hek was always a merciful assassin, never causing pain unnecessarily but the wanton pleasure Hek seemed to take in dispatching Mistress Despana was much more akin to Grummok’s own style of murder than the aging human’s. It is said the Baalzebul is the prince of lies and the gods only know what promises were whispered in the secret darkness of Hek’s mind that lead him to join with the vile fiend. Grummok understood how Hek could be coerced to aligning himself with the arch-devil as the human’s mental state was anything but stable, but what puzzled him was how did Hek even come into contact with one of the devil’s minions? As far as Grummok knew the cult of Baalzebul in Erelhei-Cinlu was stamped out with the death of Shebon Mot and the actions taken by the gargoyle himself to find and slay every member of the secretive group. It was of course possible that Grummok was not able to find all of the devotees of Baalzebul but why had the cult waited until now to resurface, and why Hek?Grummok surmised that a powerful follower of Baalzebul must have risen in the city and it was he or she that poisoned Hek’s mind with the arch-devil’s lies. The gargoyle marshaled all of his considerable resources into locating this new source of cult activity in the city. Grummok’s vast network of spies and informants were bent to the task but after weeks of searching all retuned empty handed. Frustrated by the lack of success on the part of his hirelings Grummok took matters into his own hands sought aid from the wisest being in the city, Matron Mother Kezekia Tormtor, high cleric of Lolth and the single most powerful spellcaster in Erelhei-Cinlu. Under normal circumstances it would be impossible for Grummok to obtain an audience with the Matron Mother but the gargoyle had provided many useful services for house Tormtor in the past including the removal of their wayward elderboy and weapon master Azakai Tormtor. Matron Kezekia had been very pleased with Grummok’s efficiency and discreetness in the murder of her son and had promised the gargoyle, in addition to the princely sum she paid for the assassination, a single favor. Grummok had reason now to call in that favor and after a week of speaking through various intermediaries was granted an audience with the powerful Matron Mother. The noble houses of Erelhei-Cinlu ruled their city from on high, away from the madness and degradation that plagued the metropolis below. From their exquisite manses clustered upon a huge shelf of rock that jutted out over the city the eight noble houses vied for power and fought a never-ending battle of secretive assassinations and political sabotage. House Tormtor, led by the venerable Matron Mother Kezekia, held the much-coveted position of first house and in theory if not in actual practice the remaining noble houses owed her their fealty. Grummok had no illusions concerning the danger he would be in when visiting the Tormtor compound, drow nobles were unpredictable at best and murderously insane at worst. When the troop of house guard arrived to escort him to the Tormtor compound Grummok had already layered himself in every type of protective magic he had ready access to. Long lasting spells that increased his strength, stamina and reflexes had been cast as well as magic to hedge out mind control and mental domination. The gargoyle was of course not allowed to go armed but Grummok was far from helpless without his weapons, his formidable talons and teeth were just as vicious as any drow blade.  Surrounded by Tormtor house troops Grummok was led through the city to the heavily guarded Noble Gate, the only mundane entrance to the cluster of manses and compounds held by the rulers of the city. Beyond the gate a narrow tunnel climbed steeply through the bedrock finally opening up onto the colossal rock shelf that over looked the city of Erelhei-Cinlu. The view was breathtaking, the city below spreading out in all its malicious magnificence, a grim testament to the lasting power of the drow.The Tormtor compound was located next to the Fane of Lolth; the grand temple dedicated to the spider queen in all her fiendish glory, and was the single largest structure in the entire area. Surrounded by a soaring wall of shining adamantine the Tormtor domain was a sight to behold, a singular accomplishment of drow architecture the spiraling turrets and towers of the structure seemed almost too delicate to attain the height and splendor they achieved. Although chaotic in design a single graceful outline was evident in the buildings and towers that closely resembled a vast crouching spider. Grummok was lead through the massive gates of the compound as they screeched open in a discordant metallic howl. The battlements above were lined with drow soldiers and the gargoyle could feel the vast array of magical wards and protections that shrouded the entire area as an almost imperceptible prickling on his skin. Through myriad halls and spacious rooms Grummok was escorted finally to an opulent sitting room filled with beautiful furniture imported from the surface. A barren set of adamantine double doors dominated the north wall of the room their spartan utility looking very out of place in the splendor of the sitting room. Grummok was advised to stay in the room until he was summoned into the audience hall that lay beyond the double doors. The gargoyle did a he was told and reclined luxuriantly on a velvet padded divan to the obvious annoyance of the four guards that had been left to watch him. Grummok was left to wait for nearly an hour before the large double doors swung open soundlessly and a tall slim male drow armored in black chainmail strode through, his disapproving gaze finding the reclining Grummok almost immediately. The drow elf was of obvious noble birth, his high cheekbones and the delicate sweep of his brow and jaw lent an almost feminine quality to his aristocratic beauty. The ice blue eyes that scowled beneath the furrowed brow of the drow warrior marked him as one of the Tormtor sons and Grummok guessed by his lithe movements and the longsword at his hip that he had taken his brother Azakai’s position as weapon master. “My mother will see you now.” The drow elf said coldly and with every ounce of noble disdain he could muster. Grummok bit back a terse reply and simply smiled showing every one of his needle like teeth. The gargoyle took his time getting up from the divan he had been resting on and to his great amusement saw an almost childish pout of displeasure come over the drow elf’s features. When Grummok had gained his feet he followed the noble son of his host into the grand audience hall that lay beyond the sitting room. The audience hall was truly a kingly chamber, long and narrow the room was tiled in a mosaic of polished stone portraying a whirling discordant scene of Lolth battling, and slaying, the various members of the elven pantheon. Grummok thought the scene a bit optimistic at the very least. The hall was lit only be a faint purple glow from luminescent gemstones that had been worked into the stone of the ceiling lending the room a cramped and somewhat claustrophobic feel. The only furnishing in the room was at the very end of the hall, a grotesque throne of black adamantine shaped in the ghastly form of a rearing spider, and seated in the midst of the tangle of legs and fangs was the matron mother herself. Kezekia Tormtor was relatively young by drow elf standards to hold the power she did, but her ruthless tactics and keen intellect had lifted her to the pinnacle of drow society in a scant one hundred years. As Grummok and his escort neared the throne the gargoyle, who had only dealt with the matron mother through intermediaries, caught his first look at the powerful drow matron. Kezekia appeared to be more warrior than religious fanatic, she sat on her throne armored in a shining suit of mithral plate and her weapons, two heavily enchanted maces, dangling within easy reach, one on each hip. The short-cropped hair of the matron mother was strictly utilitarian; it did not get in the way in a fight and was much easier to wear under a helmet than the flowing locks of many drow women. Kezekia’s features were delicate and beautiful although her martial appearance lent a masculine air to the drow matron. The familiar ice blue eyes of the Tormtor line stared out from under Kezekia’s brow displaying no emotion but her lips, thin and unpainted, were stretched in an eager smile as Grummok drew near. “Well, we meet at last Grummok. I have truly been looking forward to this meeting. It is not everyday that we entertain the most dangerous assassin in Erelhei-Cinlu.” Kezekia said warmly, only the slightest hint of mockery in her smooth controlled voice. “Thedren, you may go.” The matron mother dismissed her son with a wave of her hand.“Mother is that prudent, I do not wish to leave you unguarded with this…thing.” Thedren said, the intense hatred in his voice dripping from his words like poison. Kezekia turned her icy stare on her son and her words came out in a barely controlled whisper that left little doubt of the Matron’s ire. “Thedren, it is very unlikely that Grummok would seek to harm me, and do you really think that your mother is so feeble that she cannot defend herself if necessary?”“No, I…” Thedren began, suddenly realizing that he had just questioned his mother’s judgment in front of a guest and would likely suffer for it.“Go Thedren, before you truly invoke my wrath”, the matron mother’s eyes blazed as she delivered her final warning to her son. Thedren was no fool, and quickly turned on his heel making his way form the audience chamber with great haste. “Pardon my son, his words often out distance his wisdom.” Kezekia said, watching her son’s hurried retreat.“No pardon is necessary. Should not a good son be worried when his mother is left unguarded with the city’s ‘most dangerous assassin’?” Grummok replied smiling.“Yes, a good son would, but I fear his motivations or more from a hatred of you than for any concern for my safety. Thedren was oddly devoted to his older brother and no doubt his death at your hands has provoked my younger son’s animosity.” Matron Kesekia’s eyes took on an unsettling predatory leer that left as quickly as it came. “But, you came here not for a discourse in the politics of my inner family but to ask a boon, correct?”“Yes, that is true. When last we spoke through your intermediaries you offered a favor for my efficiency and discreetness over the matter with your eldest son. I wish to collect that favor if it does not inconvenience you unnecessarily.” Grummok said humbly, his tone and demeanor were as subservient and respectful as he could make them.“Let it not be said that Kezekia Tormtor is maker of idle promises, name your boon assassin and I will grant it if it is within my power.” “You are truly gracious Matron Mother, but before I presume upon your charity, I have brought a gift in thanks for the audience you have granted.” Grummok finished with a bow and awaited Kezekia’s approval or dismissal.“A gift you say?” The matron mother’s eyebrows rose slightly in surprise and suspicion. “That was not necessary, but I am not ungrateful. What have you brought me?"With slow and careful movements Grummok reached into a pouch on his belt and withdrew long object wrapped in black cloth. The object was far too large to fit into such a small space but the matron Mother seemed wholly unimpressed with Grummok’s magic pouch. Grummok removed the cloth from around the object to reveal a finely crafted mace of silvery mithral. The weapon was truly beautiful, balanced and weighted for the small hands of a drow female, but retaining its lethal utility. The flanged head of the mace was inscribed with various runes and sigils and the heavy enchantment that had been laid upon the weapon caused it to glow with a soft yellow luminance. “I have heard that you favor the mace in battle,” Grummok began, holding the mace out in the palms of both hands so the matron mother could see it clearly. “I came across this one in the vault of a duergar smith who no longer had a need for it.”Kezekia’s eyes had lit up momentarily with eagerness at the sight of the mace, but had now resumed their icy indifference. “A fine weapon, I thank you. You may bring it forward.”Grummok approached the throne slowly, the mace still held out in front of him. When he reached the foot of the throne Matron Kezekia stood and reached down taking the mace from Grummok's hands. Grummok stepped back as Kezekia examined the mace with eye of a skilled warrior and took a few practice swings. Kezekia seemed pleased with the weapon and held it out in front of her while she quickly chanted the words to a spell. When she had finished the mace glowed with a faint blue light that quickly faded and her eyebrows arched in surprise. “This is truly a princely gift, it would have fetched you a staggering sum on the open market. Your generosity will not be forgotten.” Kezekia sat down again hanging her new mace from a hook on her belt. “Now tell me why you have come.”“I have come simply for information, nothing more” Grummok said as he stepped away from the throne settling himself roughly ten paces from the matron mother. “You are easily one of the most informed persons in the city and you expertise and guidance on this matter would be invaluable to me.” “What matter do you speak of that would require my sole attention, assassin.” Kezekia said showing obvious interest for the first time.“The cult of Baalzebul has risen again,” Grummok said gravely. “ Years ago it was I that discovered the original cult and put its members to the sword. Recently an associate of mine has fallen under the sway of this vile sect but I fear a more powerful and influential follower of the archfiend led him astray. I know your resources are vast far greater than my own, I wish to know who is behind this resurgence of Baalzebul’s cult so that I can remove the scourge of this villainy from Erelhei-Cinlu once more.” Grummok took a deep breath as he finished his short request hoping against hope that the matron mother would know something, anything that might lead him in the right direction. Her answer was beyond his wildest expectations.“Well, assassin this is almost too easy. I must confess that feel somewhat guilty after having accepted your fine gift to provide you with information I have had for some time now.” Kezekia said grinning hugely.Grummok’s jaw fell open; he had certainly not expected the matron mother to already know the answer to his question.“Don’t look so shocked Grummok, very little transpires in the city below that I do not know about. In fact I am somewhat surprised that you were not able to divine this answer for yourself. The leader of the cult of Baalzebul is one you have been close to for many years.” Kezekia chided. “Shebon Mot, whom you believed headed the cult was merely a servant of the true leader who used him to enforce the will of Baalzebul and provide a public face to the other cultists. The guild master Jen Kedar Everhate is and has always been the real power in the cult.”Grummok was thunderstruck. Jen Kedar Everhate had trained Grummok himself, and although relations between the two had become strained of late the gargoyle had had no clue to the drow assassin’s real allegiance. “I do not understand, matron mother. The worship of Baalzebul is outlawed within the city, if you have known all this time why have you not stamped out Jen Kedar and his followers?”Matron Kezekia scowled down at Grummok, “Things are not as easy as that, assassin. Jen Kedar is a very influential member in the city and not to mention the eldest son of House Everhate. If I were to move against him without proof it could very well incite a war between House Everhate and my own.” The predatory leer had resurfaced in Kezekia’s eyes as she spoke on. “But you my fine assassin are not under the same restrictions that I am. I believe you could solve this problem for the both of us. Find proof that Jen Kedar is a follower of Baalzebul and you will have my permission, nay my blessing, to do with him as you will. But remember you are not to move against Jen Kedar until you have obtained irrefutable proof that he has broken the laws of the spider queen. Do you understand, assassin?”“Yes, matron mother. I have no wish to cause political inconvenience for your house and I thank you for providing me with this information. I will return as soon as I have collected the necessary proof.” Grummok said humbly.“Be careful, Grummok. Jen Kedar is wily and dangerous. Do not let him get wind of your involvement or you will likely not live out the week.” Kezekia warned. “Now, go and return to me when you have enough evidence to damn Jen Kedar irrevocably.” The matron mother dismissed Grummok with a wave of her hand.Grummok bowed and hurried from the audience chamber. The gargoyle’s mind was awhirl, he had not expected the windfall of information he had just received and the revelation of Jen Kedar’s involvement was shocking to say the least. As Grummok was escorted from the Tormtor compound the face of Hek loomed huge in the gargoyle’s mind. If Jen Kedar truly had lead Hek into the service of Baalzebul then he his suffering would be legendary even by the standards of Erelhei-Cinlu.</blockquote>

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