HALL OF THE FIRE GIANT KING
With the last of the kelubars vanquished, the company found themselves at a dead end. They would have to backtrack, either towards the distant glow they had seen, or down the east branch of the T-intersection they had passed. As they approached the intersection, Rusty’s keen eye for stonework picked out a faint inconsistency in the wall on his left. Human and even elven eyes would have missed it, but to a dwarf, it was as clear as if it had been marked in red paint. The wall for a space of about ten feet was slightly discolored; a lighter shade than the stone to either side. Rusty paused and rapped his knuckles lightly against the spot, pressing his ear firmly to the wall as he did so.
“Is there a problem?” Grimm rumbled, turning to scowl at the dwarf, irritated at the delay. “Maybe…” Rusty said absently, continuing to knock in different places. Finally, he stood back, “Grimm, me lad. Would ye be so kind as to use yer whippin’ chain there as a batterin’ ram? I want ye to hit this wall right on this precise spot. Oh, by the way, the rest of ye should stand back and make ready.” Grimm shook his head in confusion, but he trusted the old dwarf, and so he dutifully faced the wall, reared back, and leveled all his strength at the spot Rusty indicated. It was as if his chain had hit paper, so easily did the thin stone blast apart. On the far side, a hidden corridor was revealed. Its floor, walls, and ceiling were polished to a mirror finish. It was stifling hot in the hall, and the light of dozens of cages of glowing grubs reflected a hundredfold. The western wall of the corridor had been carved in a series of terrifying scenes. Fiends of all shapes and sizes forced creatures of an even wider variety into burning servitude. Lording over them all, however, was a horrifying menace. Its misshapen face seemed to face two directions, implying that nothing escaped its fierce, maniacal gaze.
Some fifty feet down the hallway stood four humanoid figures. They appeared to be anthropomorphic dogs or wolves, for they stood on two legs and wore chain shirts. Great axes were slung at their backs, while longbows where held in their hands, arrows knocked. Their canine eyes glowed red, and steam or smoke curled from their snarling mouths. Grimm, Rusty, Dalthon, Tilly, Kiko and Gunther immediately recognized the creatures. They were haraknin, hell-hound shapeshifters the Bright Axes first encountered in Oblivion, Vhalantru’s stronghold. They were fierce warriors, and swore their allegiance to someone named Ti’irok Coalfire. What they were doing here in the Cagewrights’ lair was anyone’s guess, but it couldn’t bode well. Kiko was the first of the Bright Axes to cross the threshold. No sooner had he done so, than the eyes of the two-faced carving on the wall began to glow. Beams of black energy lanced out towards the monk. Only his lightning quick reflexes saved him from whatever terrible effect the trap was bound to have. Kiko dove into a forward roll, coming up nimbly to his feet and then sprinting full speed down the corridor. Before the haraknin could loose their arrows, the monk was among them, sweeping the legs from under the foremost with a low circle kick. As the shapeshifter fell, the monk stabbed two fingers into its neck, momentarily stealing its breath. Two of the remaining haraknin quickly dropped their bows and grabbed their axes, stepping quickly to flank Kiko, while the last one fired back towards the other adventurers still waiting beyond the trapped portal. The arrow flew true, embedding itself into Ike’s shoulder. With a quizzical raise of his eyebrows, the goliath stared at the protruding missile for a moment before shrugging and ripping it free.
Tilly had watched Kiko’s narrow escape from the deadly beams, and now the little halfling was sure he could accomplish the same trick. First taking several steps back, he then ran forward and cart wheeled thru the doorway. Quick as he was, though, he was not fast enough. One of the beams clipped his leg as he tumbled past, and instantly the rogue felt his limb go cold. For a moment, he couldn’t feel it at all, and then with agonizing pain, sensation returned, but also a bone-numbing weakness and body wide chill. Forcing himself into motion again before the haraknin could regroup, Tilly charged towards one of the lycanthropes surrounding Kiko. With all his effort, the little halfling thrust his sword forward, piercing the haraknin under the ribs. As the shapeshifter howled and spun, swinging its axe, Tilly sprang back, narrowly avoiding the loss of his head.
Ike was not particularly quick, either in wit or in body, but he had a certain knack for surviving…almost a sixth sense about danger. It was that gift that told him to run directly behind Tilly thru the portal, and sure enough, the death trap did not have time to reset itself after firing at the rogue, and the goliath made it past unscathed. Just as Tilly dodged his opponent’s counter attack, Ike moved past the halfling and seized the haraknin by the neck. Whirling around like a discus thrower, the goliath launched the stunned lycanthrope bodily back down the hall. As the haraknin struck the floor, it continued to slide along the mirror-smooth surface before finally coming to a halt almost directly in front of the door. Before it had a chance to regain its feet, Grimm’s chain sailed through the air in a series of lethal strikes, and the number of enemies was suddenly reduced by one.
“So these beasts like it hot, do they?” Houshang mused as he stood in the door behind Grimm. “Let’s see how they like it when we turn down the heat a bit.” The wizard began an invocation, and then thrust his hands forward. A blast of frigid air, filled with ice and sleet filled the corridor from end to end, yet somehow holes appeared in the maelstrom exactly where Tilly, Ike and Kiko stood, leaving them inside small eyes, unaffected by the cold. However, the haraknin had their own defenses. Two of them were a blur of motion as they dove and rolled around a bend in the hall, narrowly avoiding the effects of the spell. The third stood its ground, but the spell simply washed over it, seeming to have no effect whatsoever. Ti’irok had, as always, prepared them well, the haraknin thought as it patted the elixir at its belt which protected them from just such magics.
“Looks like our boys could use some help,” Rusty said to Dalthon and Gunther. “I’m goin’ in. Cover me!” The old priest stepped thru the door, and was immediately struck by one of the dark energy rays. For an instant, he went pale as a sheet, his eyes wide and staring. Then the dwarf shook his head to clear it, laid one hand across his heart and spoke softly, “Bright Lady, ease my soul so that I may continue to work your glories against our foes.” A soft, blue glow surrounded Rusty for a moment, and when it faded, he looked hale and whole once more.
“You heard your boss,” Dalthon said, looking down at Gunther. “I, for one, am not following his foolhardy example, but I think we can lend a hand from here, no?” With that, the sorcerer began his own incantation, and sent a barrage of magic missiles down the hall, striking the magically warded haraknin full in the chest. The bellow of pain from the shapeshifter was proof enough that his defenses were limited in their protection.
Now that Kiko’s assailants had been forced back, the monk pressed his attack once more. Leaping around the corner, he pummeled one of the haraknin repeatedly, pushing the creature back into the main hall, and back towards Ike. “Round two, Grimmy!” Ike shouted as he seized the lycanthrope. “Fast ball special coming up!” Once again, a haraknin went sailing down the corridor, and once again, Grimm made quick work of the shapeshifter. As Ike turned back around, the remaining bowman fired two quick shots at him point-blank. Both arrows were spot-on, and this time they struck the goliath in the chest. Simultaneously, the remaining haraknin dodged around Kiko, and swung its axe at Rusty as he approached, knocking the dwarf back several feet as his breath was forced from his lungs.
“Enough of this!” Houshang spat. Reaching into a belt pouch, he pulled out a blank sheet of parchment, which his deft hands quickly folded into the origami shape of a frog. He spoke a short phrase and the sculpture went up in flames. Simultaneously, the haraknin bowman disappeared. Where it had stood, there now was a croaking toad in the middle of an empty chain shirt. The last haraknin stared incredulously at where his companion had been only a moment before. As his guard momentarily lowered, Rusty and Kiko were on him, a combination of hammer blows and knife-hand chops ending his life. “You ok lad?” Rusty said, turning to Ike who was busy chewing the arrows loose from his flesh. “This?” the goliath asked. “I’ve had worse while mending my shirt with a bone needle.”
There was still the matter of the remaining Bright Axes being trapped on the far side of the eye-beam trap. Tilly tried to disable the beams, but was struck by two more for his efforts, prompting Gunther to use the same restorative magic on him that Rusty had used on himself as the rogue tumbled to safety beyond the mirrored hall. Finally, Kiko volunteered to trigger the beams, relying on his amazing reflexes to dodge to safety while his companions raced thru as the trap reset.
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Cautiously, the company continued down the mirror-bright corridor, and rounded the far corner. The hallway continued on for some distance, but immediately to their left was a short hall ending at a set of iron double doors. Tilly crept to the portal, and pressed his ear against it. Immediately, he pulled back, hissing in pain as the searing heat emanating from the door scalded his ear. Rusty chuckled and motioned for the rogue to just open the door. After all, if whoever was behind it hadn’t heard the sounds of battle already, they were either deaf or dead. Tilly wrapped cloth around his hands and quickly tugged open the massive door. The walls of the room beyond were rough and natural, although the floor was polished smooth. A massive iron bed filled half the wall to the east, and a stream of glowing lava ran slowly through the center of the room to what appeared to be a large sunken pool built into the west wall. A tapestry made of dark, heavy metal adorned the wall directly across from the door, displaying a silhouette of a bearded face outlined in flames and howling in fury, all on a field of red. A large iron bookshelf sat on the floor below, carrying several oversized books. Next to that, and facing the door was a massive iron table cluttered with metal sheets and a dragon’s skull. Two more haraknin stood poised on the far side of the lava stream, bows drawn back to their cheeks. Between them, seated at the desk was a giant. His ebony skin contrasted sharply with his flame red hair and flowing beard. He was dressed in black plate armor, and a huge sword rested on his back. As the doors open, he stood slowly, resting his hands on the table. “So,” he rumbled in a deep bass voice, “these are the ones who bested Aszithef Flamewarder and stole Coldburn. Tell me, where is the sword now?” It took Rusty a moment to understand what it was the fire giant was talking about. Then he remembered the haraknin band they had encountered in Oblivion. The big female had been wielding a sword that burned with both fire and ice. “That hunk o’junk?” he said aloud. “We hocked it first chance we got. Brought a couple o’thousand gold as I recall. Was it yours? I’m sure we can work out a percentage fer ya.” Ti’irok Coalfire’s eyes narrowed to slits and his jaw clenched tightly. “Kill them,” he said menacingly, “but save the dwarf for me.”
Kiko was in motion as soon as the words left the fire giant’s mouth. Even in the form of a stone giant, the monk was still swift as a serpent. Three quick strides brought him to the edge of the lava stream. He swung one massive arm at the nearest haraknin, but at the last moment, the shapeshifter’s form seemed to blur and Kiko’s perfectly aimed strike missed by a fraction of an inch. The haraknin quickly took a step beyond the giant monk’s reach, and then opened fire, knowing he couldn’t miss at such close range. Kiko, however, had other thoughts. He easily batted aside the first arrow, then deftly dodged two more, his own shape seeming a blur, but strictly due to the speed of his movement.
Ike looked at his hammer wistfully, then shook his head and put the treasured weapon aside. Reaching over his shoulder, he drew forth the trident he’d been given by his father. It was the same weapon the priestesses of Umberlee had planned to use to sacrifice him to their dark goddess when he was an infant. He chose it now for its reach advantage. Not being built for jumping, the goliath judged that by standing at the rim of the stream, he could still reach across with this weapon hopefully impale his opponents on the far side. As he approached, the second haraknin began firing. Ike completely ignored the arrows as they bounced and ricocheted off his armor.
“The grunts are occupied,” Grimm said to Gunther. “Time to take down the main man. He looks like he’s got some skill with that pig sticker. How about giving me a little advantage?” Gunther nodded, knowing exactly what the half-ogre meant. With a quick arcane pass, Grimm faded from view, invisible. Seconds later, Rusty vanished as well. “How about some artillery support to cover us?” the disembodied voice of the elder dwarf asked, and the three spell-casters nodded in understanding. Dalthon took the initiative. Stepping to the door, he began casting the deadly Finger of Death. Stabbing his index finger directly towards Ti’irok’s heart, he sent a beam of jet-black energy arcing towards the giant. As the ray struck, Ti’irok grunted and doubled over. For a moment, Dalthon thought the battle was over, but then the fire giant slowly stood erect once more, pain etched on his face, but also hatred and fury.
Grimm moved quickly across the chamber as Ti’irok recovered from Dalthon’s spell. Still unseen, the big warrior swung, smashing his chain into the side of the fire giant’s helm. Instantly, the half-ogre appeared, much to the surprise of the leader of the Flamewarders. Realizing his danger, Ti’irok dodged to his right, making a run for the lava pool. Grimm was a fraction of a second faster, and he cracked his chain directly in front of the giant, stopping the brute dead in his tracks. At that moment, Kiko sprang across the lava stream, landing in a crouch behind Ti’irok. The giant whirled, planning on removing the monk’s head from his shoulders with his sword, but Kiko was below the blow. As the blade passed over him, the stone giant monk rose smoothly, burying his fist solidly into Ti’irok’s armpit.
“I’m missing all the fun, hanging around back here with you wet blankets,” Tilly said as Dalthon, Houshang and Gunther continued to ready their spells. “I’m going to play with at the big kids’ table.” With that, the rogue twisted the gold ring on his finger, and vanished. “Good riddance,” Houshang sniffed. “Don’t underestimate him,” Dalthon replied, turning, “He…” but the rest of his sentence was cut short as two arrows struck the sorcerer, one in the leg, and one in the shoulder. “Get down!” Gunther shouted, pushing the human behind him. With a word, he returned fire on the haraknin bowman, peppering the lycanthrope with magic missiles. Behind him, Dalthon grimaced in pain, but managed to send his own missile volley at his assailant as well, followed up immediately by a barrage by Houshang. Small minds, apparently, thought alike.
Ike saw that Grimm and Kiko had the fire giant boxed in. Those glory hogs were going to steal his thunder! Hefting his trident, the goliath charged along the near side of the lave stream, until he was directly across from Ti’irok. Gripping the weapon in both hands, he thrust it forward, straight into the fire giant’s thigh. Ti’irok roared and almost jerked the trident from Ike’s hands as he pulled it loose. The giant then stepped into the lava and hammered down with his sword at the liberator. Ike sank to one knee under the force of the blow, his left arm going numb. A second blow followed, then a third and a fourth. The goliath found himself on his back, staring up into the maddened face of Ti’irok. So this is how it ends, Ike though to himself. It was fitting. He’d been trained to kill giants. It just made sense that he would die fighting one. As Ti’irok raised his sword for the killing blow though, a loud crack filled the room, and the fire giant lurched forward as Grimm’s spike chain almost fractured his spine. As he stumbled, Ike managed to raise his trident, impaling Ti’irok on its razor sharp tines.
Tilly gathered himself, then leaped across the lava stream. He landed, still unseen, right beside one of the haraknin archers. Picking his spot carefully, Tilly drew back his sword and slid it between the third and fourth ribs of the shapeshifter, hearing a sharp hiss of air escape the wound as the creature’s punctured lung collapsed. The attack negated Tilly’s invisibility, but he wasn’t concerned. A few more well-placed blows should end this threat. Just then, a smaller door across the room banged open, and two more haraknin stepped through. So much for a quick fight, Tilly thought.
The second of the original archers saw that his chief was in mortal peril. Dropping his bow, the haraknin leaped atop the desk and gripped his great axe, planning on cleaving Kiko’s skull with it. The wily monk saw the movement, and hooked his foot up in a spinning kick, sweeping the haraknin’s feet from under him. As he fell from the desk, Kiko struck him in mid-air, sending him sprawling in a heap to the floor.
Across the stream, Ti’irok managed to disengage himself from Ike’s trident a second time. Feeling his life leaving him, the fire giant resolved to take at least one of these bastards with him. Raising his sword for the last time, he prepared to impale Ike, but once more, Grimm was there. The half-ogre swung for the hills, crushing Ti’irok’s skull with the force of his blow, sending the chief of the Flamewarder mercenaries on his final journey. Ike nodded in satisfaction, closing his eyes and taking what he thought would be his last ragged breath, preparing himself for is own last sojourn. “Easy lad,” a voice spoke in his ear. “Yer not gettin’ off that easy.” Suddenly, Ike’s pain vanished and strength returned to his limbs once more. Opening his eyes, he looked down at his wounds, only to find them gone. Though he’d heard Rusty speak, the old priest was nowhere to be seen. “I owe you my life,” Ike said aloud, “and I never forget a debt.” “Ye can repay me now,” Rusty said, “by gettin’ yer lazy arse in gear and killin’ some were-dogs!”
Back at the door, the artillery unit continued their assault. Gunther now sported an arrow protruding from his own arm, but the little dwarf kept launching wave after wave of missiles. Dalthon leant his support, but Houshang was tiring of parlor tricks. Still irked that his previous cone of cold had failed to yield the desired result, he decided to try again. Yet again, one of the haraknin in the effect of the spell managed to dodge aside, while another stood bathed in the full force of the cone, yet emerged completely unscathed. “Damn you all!” the wizard spat, and then he too fired off a volley of magic missiles.
The haraknin at Kiko’s feet struggled to rise. Normally not one to kick a man when he was down, Kiko was also pragmatic. As the haraknin reached his hands and knees, the stone giant monk dropped a big elbow on the lycanthrope’s spine, snapping it like a twig.
Tilly’s opponent wheezed as he dropped his bow and, with difficulty, drew out his axe. Tilly was incredulous that the creature was still standing, and received a second shock a moment later as the haraknin actually grazed his leg with a clumsy swing of its weapon. “Die, will you?” the rogue shouted as he ducked behind the warrior, stabbing again and again, but the shapeshifter would not go down, not even when the triple tines of Ike’s trident burst from its chest as the goliath struck from behind. Finally, Tilly planted his blade into the haraknin’s throat, and with a sigh, it gave up the fight.
The remaining two haraknin dropped their bows in unison, and howled like wolves as they leaped the stream, drew axes and charged headlong at the spell casters who had been harrying them. The first reached the doorway, and chopped at Dalthon, sending the sorcerer sprawling to the floor. The second was brought up short as Grimm’s chain wrapped around his legs and pulled him to the ground. The half-ogre stepped over the fallen haraknin and seized the first who threatened Dalthon by the scruff of the neck. As the downed shapeshifter disentangled himself from the coils of the chain, Houshang bombarded him again with magic missiles. Grimm whirled, hurling the struggling haraknin in his grip back across the room to land at Kiko’s feet. Before the creature could recover, the monk gripped his head in both hands, and broke his neck with one sharp twist. Grimm ended the battle by wrapping his chain around the sole haraknin’s neck and strangling him where he lay.
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No more haraknin appeared as the Bright Axes began searching Ti’irok’s quarters. Apparently this had been the mercenary bands’ last stand. Ti’irok was apparently well read, as evidenced by the library of material he had on military tactics. It was two metal sheets of paper covered in print written in metallic ink that proved most interesting, though. The first mentioned by name the Ritual of Planar Junction. It implied that once completed, the Tree of Shackled Souls still required several hours to build up enough energy to open the portal to Carceri. Perhaps there was still time. The second sheet was apparently a list of tasks: See to Dechrini. The constant organ playing has got to stop; Speak to the wyrm about the collar. Ensure it is still cared for; Speak to Dyr’ryd once the portal is open to inquire about the dispensation of land; Establish plan with Nulin and Thearynn about a plan to round up remaining townsfolk as workers for the lords from beyond; Polish Blackfire. This last task had been crossed out.