JollyDoc
Explorer
VORDAKAI
“Is this all of them?” Davrim asked.
The companions gathered around the grisly tableau of the dining table, the ghastly remains of the villagers poised in their death throes.
“Doubtful,” Mox said. “Varnhold’s population was much more than this. Still, I wonder why these were singled out. Unfortunately, we don’t have a description of Varn himself.”
“We can mourn these souls later,” Velox said impatiently. “Whomever or whatever is behind these murders, we have to find and stop him before there are no souls left to save.”
_____________________________________________________________
They climbed to the gallery which overlooked the dining hall, then made their way down a wide passage on the far side. From up ahead, they heard the sound of burbling water. The passage opened into a wide chamber. A large fountain and pool that stank of sulfur occupied its center. A shallow channel cut into the stone floor passed beneath a pair of bronze doors, funneling the foul water out of the pool in that direction. No sooner had the first of the companions set foot in the room, than the fountain exploded upwards in a great plume, and coalesced into a vaguely humanoid figure…an elemental!
“Curse these foul guardians!” Davrim bellowed. “Where is your master, beast?”
The inquisitor drew his sword and charged, Velox right behind him. The pair dodged right and left, ducking beneath the flailing arms of the elemental. As they passed beneath its reach, each struck in turn, their eldritch blades slicing into the outsider as if it were a creature of flesh and blood.
“Foolish mortals,” a sinister voice suddenly sounded from behind the others, from the hallway they had just come from. “Your challenge has been answered. Vordakai has awakened from his long slumber, and has found this world infested with those who once served his people as mere kine and chattel. Yet my rest has left me but a shadow of my former self. I hunger, and the souls of your kinsmen are not nearly enough to sate me. I shall devour all of your lands, and my empire shall rise again!!”
Tungdill turned slowly around, and his face drained of all color as his eyes widened in terror. Behind them stood a towering cyclops, though it was emaciated to the point of gauntness. Its grey flesh hung loosely upon its bones, and its once rich robes lay in tatters. From within its single hollow eye socket burned a crimson gem easily the size of a man’s fist.
“Back devil!” the druid cried, and he loosed serpentine coils of fire from his palms. The flames coiled around the lich, but its putrid flesh merely darkened instead of burning. Terrified, the dwarf quickly grabbed the handles of the door and slammed it shut on the nightmarish apparition.
“We got trouble, lads!”
Velox, his eyes glazed over and his tongue babbling as the holy power of Iomedae overwhelmed him, barely heard Tungdill’s words. The oracle nimbly dodged another hammer blow from the elemental. This time, the monster’s huge fist pounded into the paving stones, shattering several into fragments and sending a large cloud of dust into its own eyes. It reared back, flailing about wildly, temporarily blinded. Velox and Davrim continued their assault, darting in and slashing at the beast, and then dashing away again as it sought to find them.
“If you boys are finished playing,” Mox shouted, “we’ve got problems of our own back here!”
The sorceress hurled a fireball into the elemental, causing a cloud of steam to fill the area. Velox turned towards her just as the creature swung again, this time blindly connecting with the oracle and sending him head-over-heels. Mox loosed her magic again, this time sending acidic missiles into the behemoth. It roared in pain, and as it was distracted, Velox leaped to his feet. He and Davrim charged in for one final attack, and as they landed their blows, the elemental collapsed in on itself into the pool once more.
The door to the hallway started to open, and in desperation, Stevhan flung himself at it, seizing the handles and pulling it shut again.
“If you’re going to do something, make it fast!” the ranger cried. “I can’t hold this for long!”
“I’m on it, boy!” Tungdill yelled. “Just hang on fer a second er two! I got somethin’ fer’im!”
The druid began to chant, and as he did so, a swirling vortex of light began to coalesce before him. Within a matter of moments, it solidified into the form of a large, two-headed giant.
“Go get’im, boy!” Tungdill commanded.
The ettin reached out and shoved the doors opene, and Stevhan charged forward. Vordakai was waiting. As the ranger drew near, the cyclops-lich reached out one clawed hand and grabbed him by the head. Stevhan went rigid as stone, then collapsed to the floor, unmoving.
“No!” Mox shouted as she loosed another acid missile at the necromancer. Vordakai didn’t seem to notice, even as the caustic fluid ate through his decrepit flesh. Instead, he gathered dark energy about him, then flung it out from himself. When it passed through the companions, they felt the chill of the grave wash over them, leaving behind a bone-numbing cold in its wake.
Davrim recovered first from the assault, and he was on his feet and running before he’d even given thought to what he planned to do when he reached the lich. Raising his sword above his head with both hands, he brought it down with all his strength upon Vordakai’s shoulder, hoping to sever the fiend’s arm in the process. The blade rebounded as if he’d struck a stone wall, leaving only a minor laceration in the cyclop’s flesh, which quickly began to reknit itself. Vordakai struck the inquisitor with a back-handed blow, and as he did so, a flash of arcane energy detonated, knocking Davrim back several feet. The lich began striding purposefully towards Mox, Tungdill and Selena. As he passed the ettin, the giant swung both of its clubs, which shattered upon the lich’s flesh like glass. Vordakai never spared the giant a second glance. Desperately, Mox flung a fistful of arcane bolts towards the advancing horror, but they seemed to strike some unseen barrier before they reached the lich, and he chuckled evilly as he began his own incantation. Davrim leaped to his feet again, and charged in a second time. Once more, Vordakai stopped him with an almost casual slap, sending the half-orc sprawling across the floor. Suddenly, a wall of flames sprang up from the floor, enveloping the lich as it did so. He roared in pain and frustration, ripping himself free of the conflagration, his robes still smoldering. His crimson eye fixed on Velox as the oracle’s own opaque gaze met his in return. With a snarl, the lich seized Tungdill, preparing to hurl the dwarf at his companion.
“Hands off, ye filthy cur!” the dwarf growled.
The feisty druid quickly began another chant, calling a column of white fire down from the ceiling. Vordakai was caught in the center of the blast, and he dropped Tungdill to the floor as he reeled away.
“Now!” Mox cried. “Strike together!”
She opened her mouth and spewed a stream of acid at the lich. Simultaneously, Velox hurled searing light. The twin energies engulfed the cyclops, searing great chunks of flesh from his bones. Screaming in agony, Vordakai swirled his robes around him and vanished in a flash of blinding light.
“Where is he?” Davrim shouted, twisting this way and that.
“He dimension stepped!” Mox cursed. “Doubtless he’s gone to lick his wounds. He could return any time!”
“Then we must move quickly,” Velox said, once more himself.
He moved to the stricken form of Stevhan and drew a roll of parchment from his belt. As he unfurled it, he began to read the arcane inscription printed upon it. When he spoke the final word, the scroll disintegrated in his hands, but a moment later, Stevhan blinked his eyes and drew in a great breath.
“Easy, my friend,” Velox said. “A lich’s touch can last a lifetime. You are bound to be somewhat stiff for a time.”
“I’ll move easy enough when that one-eyed devil shows his face again!” the ranger snapped.
“What do we do now?” Davrim asked. “Just wait for him to come back?”
“No,” Mox replied. “We keep moving. Maybe we can find the survivors of Varnhold before he regains his strength.”
The companions quickly crossed the chamber to the double doors on the far side. They opened easily enough, but immediately the heroes wished they hadn’t. The chamber beyond stretched into darkness. The channel of sulfurous water ran down its center into a placid pool tinged in red and surrounded by kneeling forms. Nearby sat a small stone shrine decorated with several freshly severed human heads. Just beyond the grisly altar, a hideous throne made of bones loomed above the pool. As the group slowly approached the pool, they saw that the kneeling figures had all been eviscerated as well as beheaded, and their entrails had been laid out in intricate patterns. A slanting hallway exited the chamber on the far side, and a soft glow emanated from it. The companions made their way slowly past the horrible tableau, trying to avert their eyes, but morbidly compelled to gaze upon it.
The short hall opened into a circular, dome-ceilinged room. The walls were filled with stone niches, each of which bore a number of strangely shaped glass jars. Each jar was about a foot tall, stoppered with a clot of black wax, and contained a swirling plume of glowing white smoke. There were dozens of them on display, and the swirling light each emitted gave the room an otherworldly feel. Gingerly, Mox reached towards one of the jars, feeling drawn to it. As she laid her hand upon it, her eyes flew open wide.
“Who…who are you?” she asked of no one.
“Mox, what is it?” Velox asked.
“There…there’s someone inside,” the sorceress said in wonder. “She says her name is Lana, and that she is from Varnhold. She says she wants to go home.”
Suddenly, a flash of light erupted in the center of the room, and Vordakai stood before them once more. Before they could react, the lich hurled a ray of sickly green light at Davrim, and the inquisitor instantly felt his strength being drained from him. He sank to one knee, the weight of his own armor suddenly pulling him down. Stevhan cried out in fury, and ran forward, but the cyclops was too fast. He whipped about like a snake, catching the ranger with a heavy blow just as his sword descended. Stevhan tumbled away, bruised, but at least still mobile. A second flash of light appeared in front of Tungdill as the druid summoned more of his extraplanar allies. A huge tiger, followed by a dog-sized ant materialized out of thin air. The creatures leaped at the lich, clawing, snapping and biting. They did very little actual harm to the necromancer, but they provided a critical distraction. As Vordakai batted the nuisances aside, he failed to see Velox closing in on him. By the time he noticed the oracle, it was too late. Velox swung with all his might, and his blow connected solidly with the lich’s jaw, dislocating it with a sickening crack. Vordakai couldn’t speak. He couldn’t voice the words to his spells. For the first time in centuries, the necromancer knew something akin to fear. Desperately, he struggled to put distance between himself and the battle-mad oracle, but Davrim and Stevhan had managed to flank him in the melee. Though his undead flesh was as strong as steel, the sheer number and ferocity of the blows rained down upon him by the three warriors began to weaken him, overwhelming his unholy regeneration. Frantic, he seized his broken mandible with both hands and wrenched it back into place. Triumph gleamed in his crimson eye, but even as the words to a spell came to his cracked lips, Mox sent an acidic missile straight into his throat. He gagged and wretched violently, and as he doubled over in pain, Davrim brought the keen edge of his blade down upon the lich’s neck, severing his head from his shoulders.
As the others drew a collective sigh of relief and began tending to their many wounds, Selena walked unobtrusively over to Vordakai’s head. The fist-sized ruby had dislodged from his eye socket and lay glowing upon the floor.
“What have we here?” the witch whispered as she quickly wrapped the gemstone into the folds of her robe.
__________________________________________________________
Carefully, one-by-one, the companions took each of the soul jars off of the shelves. As they touched each one, they made brief contact with the essence of the spirit trapped within. Each of them named themselves a citizen of Varnhold, though none among them was Maegar Varn. Also not among their number was the spirit of Aecora Silverfire’s daughter, Xamanthe. Mox reassured each of the souls that they were now safe, and would soon be returned to their homes, but not until they were free of the lich’s stronghold. For safekeeping, the jars were placed gently into a pair of sacks, enchanted to contain large extradimensional spaces within.
“There is still one place we haven’t looked yet for the others,” Velox observed.
“How did I know you were going to suggest that?” Mox asked bitterly.
___________________________________________________________
The black doors depicting the river Styx stood just as they’d left them when the companions had decided to avoid the sinister portals. The blood-stained altars still stood silent vigil on either side.
“Ya know this here’s a trap jes waitin’ t’be sprung, don’tcha?” Tungdill asked the others.
“And yet we have no choice,” Velox said. “We cannot leave this place until we’ve insured the safety of every salvageable soul.”
“Figured you’d say that,” the druid grumped. “Jes thought I’d warn ya.”
“Duly noted,” the oracle smiled. “Now, I suggest you all stand back…,”
Bracing himself, Velox stepped to the twin doors and grasped each handle, then firmly pulled them open. Instantly, the two altars burst into black fire, which swirled in a vortex that quickly filled the entire room. Unlike true flames, however, its touch did not burn…it froze to the marrow, for it carried with it the taint of the unholy river of the underworld. Each of the companions felt their breath momentarily stop in their throats as the taint of Death itself flowed through them. Just as quickly, it passed, but upon each of them, sickly gray patches appeared on any areas of exposed flesh. The construction of the chamber beyond the doors differed from the rest of the stronghold. The ceiling arched to double the height of most of the other rooms, and appeared to bear many fractures in the rock. In the center of the area, two columns of mortared stone supported the overhead arches. Before the group had a chance to recover from the mystical fire, a mist began to gather in the center of the room. Before their eyes, a creature from nightmares stepped out of the fog. It walked on two legs, but it resembled some sort of demonic crustacean, with large pincers instead of hands, and a quartet of ropy tentacles surrounding an area where its mouth should have been.
The pieces suddenly fell into place for Davrim. The river Styx, the Four Horsemen, and now this, a piscodaemon. All things connected to the plane of Abaddon. Could the cyclops lich truly have been involved with such evil? The inquisitor didn’t have time to ponder the matter further. The noxious green fog behind the fiend began to move purposefully. Casting its claws forward, the creature directed the mist towards the companions, and as it enveloped them, they began gagging and retching as its foul vapors drifted into their lungs. Stevhan collapsed to his hands and knees, his sword falling uselessly to the floor beside him, vomiting repeatedly as he tried to draw in great, whooping gasps of air, only succeeding in inhaling more of the fumes. Davrim’s eyes watered and ran, but he could still make out the shape of the daemon standing within the fog. He moved towards it, but as he swung his sword, the fiend batted his blade aside and clamped one of its claws down upon his wrist, while at the same time lashing at his exposed face with its tentacles. The half-orc wrenched his arm free, and swung furiously, imbuing his blade with the holy power of Iomedae as he did so. The steel sliced into the daemon’s carapace like a hot knife through butter, and the creature screamed an otherworldly wail. It vanished into thin air, and too late, Davrim remembered that the creatures could teleport.
Mox discovered this fact as well when the daemon reappeared right beside her, looming out of the fog like an apparition. She tried to scream, but her voice choked off as she inhaled the stinking gas. Her voice merely a whisper, she managed to choke out the words to a spell, and exhaled a cone of freezing ice into the daemon’s face. It recoiled, covering its head with its claws, thus failing to see Velox as he emerged from the mist. The oracle’s blade glowed like white fire as the power of his goddess flowed through him. Too late the daemon saw the coming blow, and when it threw up one claw to protect itself, the sword cleaved straight through it. Mox struck again, spewing liquid ice upon the fiend a second time, freezing its joints in place. Velox rushed in, his sword a blur of motion. Pieces of the daemon flew in all directions, until finally, it simply exploded into a cloud of sulfurous smoke.
“Is this all of them?” Davrim asked.
The companions gathered around the grisly tableau of the dining table, the ghastly remains of the villagers poised in their death throes.
“Doubtful,” Mox said. “Varnhold’s population was much more than this. Still, I wonder why these were singled out. Unfortunately, we don’t have a description of Varn himself.”
“We can mourn these souls later,” Velox said impatiently. “Whomever or whatever is behind these murders, we have to find and stop him before there are no souls left to save.”
_____________________________________________________________
They climbed to the gallery which overlooked the dining hall, then made their way down a wide passage on the far side. From up ahead, they heard the sound of burbling water. The passage opened into a wide chamber. A large fountain and pool that stank of sulfur occupied its center. A shallow channel cut into the stone floor passed beneath a pair of bronze doors, funneling the foul water out of the pool in that direction. No sooner had the first of the companions set foot in the room, than the fountain exploded upwards in a great plume, and coalesced into a vaguely humanoid figure…an elemental!
“Curse these foul guardians!” Davrim bellowed. “Where is your master, beast?”
The inquisitor drew his sword and charged, Velox right behind him. The pair dodged right and left, ducking beneath the flailing arms of the elemental. As they passed beneath its reach, each struck in turn, their eldritch blades slicing into the outsider as if it were a creature of flesh and blood.
“Foolish mortals,” a sinister voice suddenly sounded from behind the others, from the hallway they had just come from. “Your challenge has been answered. Vordakai has awakened from his long slumber, and has found this world infested with those who once served his people as mere kine and chattel. Yet my rest has left me but a shadow of my former self. I hunger, and the souls of your kinsmen are not nearly enough to sate me. I shall devour all of your lands, and my empire shall rise again!!”
Tungdill turned slowly around, and his face drained of all color as his eyes widened in terror. Behind them stood a towering cyclops, though it was emaciated to the point of gauntness. Its grey flesh hung loosely upon its bones, and its once rich robes lay in tatters. From within its single hollow eye socket burned a crimson gem easily the size of a man’s fist.
“Back devil!” the druid cried, and he loosed serpentine coils of fire from his palms. The flames coiled around the lich, but its putrid flesh merely darkened instead of burning. Terrified, the dwarf quickly grabbed the handles of the door and slammed it shut on the nightmarish apparition.
“We got trouble, lads!”
Velox, his eyes glazed over and his tongue babbling as the holy power of Iomedae overwhelmed him, barely heard Tungdill’s words. The oracle nimbly dodged another hammer blow from the elemental. This time, the monster’s huge fist pounded into the paving stones, shattering several into fragments and sending a large cloud of dust into its own eyes. It reared back, flailing about wildly, temporarily blinded. Velox and Davrim continued their assault, darting in and slashing at the beast, and then dashing away again as it sought to find them.
“If you boys are finished playing,” Mox shouted, “we’ve got problems of our own back here!”
The sorceress hurled a fireball into the elemental, causing a cloud of steam to fill the area. Velox turned towards her just as the creature swung again, this time blindly connecting with the oracle and sending him head-over-heels. Mox loosed her magic again, this time sending acidic missiles into the behemoth. It roared in pain, and as it was distracted, Velox leaped to his feet. He and Davrim charged in for one final attack, and as they landed their blows, the elemental collapsed in on itself into the pool once more.
The door to the hallway started to open, and in desperation, Stevhan flung himself at it, seizing the handles and pulling it shut again.
“If you’re going to do something, make it fast!” the ranger cried. “I can’t hold this for long!”
“I’m on it, boy!” Tungdill yelled. “Just hang on fer a second er two! I got somethin’ fer’im!”
The druid began to chant, and as he did so, a swirling vortex of light began to coalesce before him. Within a matter of moments, it solidified into the form of a large, two-headed giant.
“Go get’im, boy!” Tungdill commanded.
The ettin reached out and shoved the doors opene, and Stevhan charged forward. Vordakai was waiting. As the ranger drew near, the cyclops-lich reached out one clawed hand and grabbed him by the head. Stevhan went rigid as stone, then collapsed to the floor, unmoving.
“No!” Mox shouted as she loosed another acid missile at the necromancer. Vordakai didn’t seem to notice, even as the caustic fluid ate through his decrepit flesh. Instead, he gathered dark energy about him, then flung it out from himself. When it passed through the companions, they felt the chill of the grave wash over them, leaving behind a bone-numbing cold in its wake.
Davrim recovered first from the assault, and he was on his feet and running before he’d even given thought to what he planned to do when he reached the lich. Raising his sword above his head with both hands, he brought it down with all his strength upon Vordakai’s shoulder, hoping to sever the fiend’s arm in the process. The blade rebounded as if he’d struck a stone wall, leaving only a minor laceration in the cyclop’s flesh, which quickly began to reknit itself. Vordakai struck the inquisitor with a back-handed blow, and as he did so, a flash of arcane energy detonated, knocking Davrim back several feet. The lich began striding purposefully towards Mox, Tungdill and Selena. As he passed the ettin, the giant swung both of its clubs, which shattered upon the lich’s flesh like glass. Vordakai never spared the giant a second glance. Desperately, Mox flung a fistful of arcane bolts towards the advancing horror, but they seemed to strike some unseen barrier before they reached the lich, and he chuckled evilly as he began his own incantation. Davrim leaped to his feet again, and charged in a second time. Once more, Vordakai stopped him with an almost casual slap, sending the half-orc sprawling across the floor. Suddenly, a wall of flames sprang up from the floor, enveloping the lich as it did so. He roared in pain and frustration, ripping himself free of the conflagration, his robes still smoldering. His crimson eye fixed on Velox as the oracle’s own opaque gaze met his in return. With a snarl, the lich seized Tungdill, preparing to hurl the dwarf at his companion.
“Hands off, ye filthy cur!” the dwarf growled.
The feisty druid quickly began another chant, calling a column of white fire down from the ceiling. Vordakai was caught in the center of the blast, and he dropped Tungdill to the floor as he reeled away.
“Now!” Mox cried. “Strike together!”
She opened her mouth and spewed a stream of acid at the lich. Simultaneously, Velox hurled searing light. The twin energies engulfed the cyclops, searing great chunks of flesh from his bones. Screaming in agony, Vordakai swirled his robes around him and vanished in a flash of blinding light.
“Where is he?” Davrim shouted, twisting this way and that.
“He dimension stepped!” Mox cursed. “Doubtless he’s gone to lick his wounds. He could return any time!”
“Then we must move quickly,” Velox said, once more himself.
He moved to the stricken form of Stevhan and drew a roll of parchment from his belt. As he unfurled it, he began to read the arcane inscription printed upon it. When he spoke the final word, the scroll disintegrated in his hands, but a moment later, Stevhan blinked his eyes and drew in a great breath.
“Easy, my friend,” Velox said. “A lich’s touch can last a lifetime. You are bound to be somewhat stiff for a time.”
“I’ll move easy enough when that one-eyed devil shows his face again!” the ranger snapped.
“What do we do now?” Davrim asked. “Just wait for him to come back?”
“No,” Mox replied. “We keep moving. Maybe we can find the survivors of Varnhold before he regains his strength.”
The companions quickly crossed the chamber to the double doors on the far side. They opened easily enough, but immediately the heroes wished they hadn’t. The chamber beyond stretched into darkness. The channel of sulfurous water ran down its center into a placid pool tinged in red and surrounded by kneeling forms. Nearby sat a small stone shrine decorated with several freshly severed human heads. Just beyond the grisly altar, a hideous throne made of bones loomed above the pool. As the group slowly approached the pool, they saw that the kneeling figures had all been eviscerated as well as beheaded, and their entrails had been laid out in intricate patterns. A slanting hallway exited the chamber on the far side, and a soft glow emanated from it. The companions made their way slowly past the horrible tableau, trying to avert their eyes, but morbidly compelled to gaze upon it.
The short hall opened into a circular, dome-ceilinged room. The walls were filled with stone niches, each of which bore a number of strangely shaped glass jars. Each jar was about a foot tall, stoppered with a clot of black wax, and contained a swirling plume of glowing white smoke. There were dozens of them on display, and the swirling light each emitted gave the room an otherworldly feel. Gingerly, Mox reached towards one of the jars, feeling drawn to it. As she laid her hand upon it, her eyes flew open wide.
“Who…who are you?” she asked of no one.
“Mox, what is it?” Velox asked.
“There…there’s someone inside,” the sorceress said in wonder. “She says her name is Lana, and that she is from Varnhold. She says she wants to go home.”
Suddenly, a flash of light erupted in the center of the room, and Vordakai stood before them once more. Before they could react, the lich hurled a ray of sickly green light at Davrim, and the inquisitor instantly felt his strength being drained from him. He sank to one knee, the weight of his own armor suddenly pulling him down. Stevhan cried out in fury, and ran forward, but the cyclops was too fast. He whipped about like a snake, catching the ranger with a heavy blow just as his sword descended. Stevhan tumbled away, bruised, but at least still mobile. A second flash of light appeared in front of Tungdill as the druid summoned more of his extraplanar allies. A huge tiger, followed by a dog-sized ant materialized out of thin air. The creatures leaped at the lich, clawing, snapping and biting. They did very little actual harm to the necromancer, but they provided a critical distraction. As Vordakai batted the nuisances aside, he failed to see Velox closing in on him. By the time he noticed the oracle, it was too late. Velox swung with all his might, and his blow connected solidly with the lich’s jaw, dislocating it with a sickening crack. Vordakai couldn’t speak. He couldn’t voice the words to his spells. For the first time in centuries, the necromancer knew something akin to fear. Desperately, he struggled to put distance between himself and the battle-mad oracle, but Davrim and Stevhan had managed to flank him in the melee. Though his undead flesh was as strong as steel, the sheer number and ferocity of the blows rained down upon him by the three warriors began to weaken him, overwhelming his unholy regeneration. Frantic, he seized his broken mandible with both hands and wrenched it back into place. Triumph gleamed in his crimson eye, but even as the words to a spell came to his cracked lips, Mox sent an acidic missile straight into his throat. He gagged and wretched violently, and as he doubled over in pain, Davrim brought the keen edge of his blade down upon the lich’s neck, severing his head from his shoulders.
As the others drew a collective sigh of relief and began tending to their many wounds, Selena walked unobtrusively over to Vordakai’s head. The fist-sized ruby had dislodged from his eye socket and lay glowing upon the floor.
“What have we here?” the witch whispered as she quickly wrapped the gemstone into the folds of her robe.
__________________________________________________________
Carefully, one-by-one, the companions took each of the soul jars off of the shelves. As they touched each one, they made brief contact with the essence of the spirit trapped within. Each of them named themselves a citizen of Varnhold, though none among them was Maegar Varn. Also not among their number was the spirit of Aecora Silverfire’s daughter, Xamanthe. Mox reassured each of the souls that they were now safe, and would soon be returned to their homes, but not until they were free of the lich’s stronghold. For safekeeping, the jars were placed gently into a pair of sacks, enchanted to contain large extradimensional spaces within.
“There is still one place we haven’t looked yet for the others,” Velox observed.
“How did I know you were going to suggest that?” Mox asked bitterly.
___________________________________________________________
The black doors depicting the river Styx stood just as they’d left them when the companions had decided to avoid the sinister portals. The blood-stained altars still stood silent vigil on either side.
“Ya know this here’s a trap jes waitin’ t’be sprung, don’tcha?” Tungdill asked the others.
“And yet we have no choice,” Velox said. “We cannot leave this place until we’ve insured the safety of every salvageable soul.”
“Figured you’d say that,” the druid grumped. “Jes thought I’d warn ya.”
“Duly noted,” the oracle smiled. “Now, I suggest you all stand back…,”
Bracing himself, Velox stepped to the twin doors and grasped each handle, then firmly pulled them open. Instantly, the two altars burst into black fire, which swirled in a vortex that quickly filled the entire room. Unlike true flames, however, its touch did not burn…it froze to the marrow, for it carried with it the taint of the unholy river of the underworld. Each of the companions felt their breath momentarily stop in their throats as the taint of Death itself flowed through them. Just as quickly, it passed, but upon each of them, sickly gray patches appeared on any areas of exposed flesh. The construction of the chamber beyond the doors differed from the rest of the stronghold. The ceiling arched to double the height of most of the other rooms, and appeared to bear many fractures in the rock. In the center of the area, two columns of mortared stone supported the overhead arches. Before the group had a chance to recover from the mystical fire, a mist began to gather in the center of the room. Before their eyes, a creature from nightmares stepped out of the fog. It walked on two legs, but it resembled some sort of demonic crustacean, with large pincers instead of hands, and a quartet of ropy tentacles surrounding an area where its mouth should have been.
The pieces suddenly fell into place for Davrim. The river Styx, the Four Horsemen, and now this, a piscodaemon. All things connected to the plane of Abaddon. Could the cyclops lich truly have been involved with such evil? The inquisitor didn’t have time to ponder the matter further. The noxious green fog behind the fiend began to move purposefully. Casting its claws forward, the creature directed the mist towards the companions, and as it enveloped them, they began gagging and retching as its foul vapors drifted into their lungs. Stevhan collapsed to his hands and knees, his sword falling uselessly to the floor beside him, vomiting repeatedly as he tried to draw in great, whooping gasps of air, only succeeding in inhaling more of the fumes. Davrim’s eyes watered and ran, but he could still make out the shape of the daemon standing within the fog. He moved towards it, but as he swung his sword, the fiend batted his blade aside and clamped one of its claws down upon his wrist, while at the same time lashing at his exposed face with its tentacles. The half-orc wrenched his arm free, and swung furiously, imbuing his blade with the holy power of Iomedae as he did so. The steel sliced into the daemon’s carapace like a hot knife through butter, and the creature screamed an otherworldly wail. It vanished into thin air, and too late, Davrim remembered that the creatures could teleport.
Mox discovered this fact as well when the daemon reappeared right beside her, looming out of the fog like an apparition. She tried to scream, but her voice choked off as she inhaled the stinking gas. Her voice merely a whisper, she managed to choke out the words to a spell, and exhaled a cone of freezing ice into the daemon’s face. It recoiled, covering its head with its claws, thus failing to see Velox as he emerged from the mist. The oracle’s blade glowed like white fire as the power of his goddess flowed through him. Too late the daemon saw the coming blow, and when it threw up one claw to protect itself, the sword cleaved straight through it. Mox struck again, spewing liquid ice upon the fiend a second time, freezing its joints in place. Velox rushed in, his sword a blur of motion. Pieces of the daemon flew in all directions, until finally, it simply exploded into a cloud of sulfurous smoke.
Now to me this reads as a 100% completion of the quest. Shame though, Vordokai having been one of the world's most ancient residents... All the evil, undeath and madness aside, he could have made great dinner conversation!
