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Lazybones's Keep on the Shadowfell/Thunderspire Labyrinth
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<blockquote data-quote="Lazybones" data-source="post: 4799290" data-attributes="member: 143"><p>Well, I've stated in the past that 4e, while introducing some interesting concepts like the powers system, isn't really drawing me in the way that 3rd edition did. I can't really tighten it down to something specific, maybe it's the lack of "flair" that Neurotic described. Or maybe I spent too long with 3.0/3.5 and just don't want to invest the time in a new system. I haven't bought anything besides the core books and the first two modules and have no intention of doing so.</p><p></p><p>My next story won't be based on 4th edition, although I'm still enjoying writing this one, and I don't regret taking the time to learn the new ruleset. </p><p></p><p>* * * * * </p><p></p><p>Chapter 37</p><p></p><p></p><p>The door opened with a creak that sounded like the end of the world, filling the chamber with the sound. It instantly drew the attention of the duergar guards, who had been dicing at their table along the far wall of the chamber, and of the two spined devils, who had been arguing in their own foul tongue from their perch high among the rafters of the chamber. </p><p></p><p>The door swung open ponderously, continuing the scream of tortured metal from its hinges. Beyond, only a dark tunnel was visible, gaping malevolently. </p><p></p><p>The duergar guards exchanged a look, and then one of them hurried to the door on their side of the room. The other one drew out his weapon, a big warhammer with a striking head fashioned out of a slab of black metal. The dwarf gestured to the devils, who dropped free of their perch and glided toward the dark opening. One of them flicked its tail, dislodging a number of spines that flew into the gap. </p><p></p><p>“Hold yer blasted darts!” the duergar said. “If’n there be someone in there, take ‘im alive!”</p><p></p><p>The devils hissed something less than flattering at him in Infernal, but they flittered aside as Framarth arrived, the other guard at his heels. “What is the meaning of this?” he asked the other guard. </p><p></p><p>“Don’t know, yer lordship,” the dwarf replied. “Door just opened. Nobody’s s’posed to be in there. Was going to send the devils in to have a look.”</p><p></p><p>The theurge’s eyes narrowed as he regarded the dark opening. Abruptly he lifted a hand, and conjured a spell. </p><p></p><p>An eruption of green flickers materialized in the tunnel beyond the door, followed by tendrils of olive vapor that trickled out into the great chamber. The fumes hung cloyingly in the air, twisting slightly as some invisible gust of wind shaped them. </p><p></p><p>And then the smoke cloud parted, as a small horde of wights burst into the room, screeching as they eagerly sought out warm flesh. </p><p></p><p>Jaron was greeted to a scene of chaos as he tentatively peeked out from behind the heavy door. So far their plan had worked, with Beetle opening this door and he the one leading to the room holding the wights. The two of them had hidden behind the minotaur statue while the situation progressed naturally. He’d agonized over which door to give to Beetle, knowing that his cousin was likely to get into trouble no matter which one he chose, but for once Beetle had done exactly as he’d said. </p><p></p><p>A violent battle raged in the chamber directly in front of him. There were three duergar, currently being swarmed by the five wights in a violent close-quarters melee. Thus far the defenders were holding their own, but the wights seemed to shake off the pounding from the dwarves’ hammers, snarling before leaping back in to try to grab hold of their living foes with their claws. A bright flash of fire blinded Jaron for a moment, and he realized that one of the dwarves was a spellcaster. The wight the mage had hit staggered back, trailing wisps of black smoke from his charred chest, but the monster came in again, forcing the dwarf back onto the defensive. </p><p></p><p>A form out of nightmare streaked down from above, flying low over one of the wights. The flying thing was not much larger than the dwarfs, but as it shot past Jaron could see a forest of dark spines jutting from the wight’s back, and it began to flail wildly as tendrils of smoke rose from the nasty wounds. </p><p></p><p>All in all, chaos. And they had to go out in that… </p><p></p><p>For a moment, Jaron’s resolve faltered, then Beetle shot past him, and started running around the room to the right, toward one of the open pits they’d spotted earlier, when looking under the crack in the door. They’d recognized this place as the slave pits that Rendil had described to them, and they knew that if the Grimmerzhul still held Mara, they’d likely find her here. That had given birth to Jaron’s desperate plan, to set the wights against the defenders, and hopefully find their friend in the confusion. </p><p></p><p>But as he ran after Beetle, that part of his brain still capable of reason started whispering to him all the ways that the plan could go wrong. Another burst of fire that sounded like it was right on top of him added urgency to his movement. But as he approached the pit, he felt a new sensation of dread overcome even that surging terror. </p><p></p><p>The pit was empty. </p><p></p><p>Or more precisely, empty of prisoners; he could see the shackles bolted to the walls, the foul slicks of waste, the tattered scraps of clothing that spoke of slaves now gone.</p><p></p><p>Beetle was already running ahead, around the perimeter of the pit toward the next one. Jaron followed, but as he glanced over across the room, he saw another pair of duergar guards appear through the far door, these two clad in heavy mail, and visored helms that shielded their features but which allowed the wiry forest of their beards to protrude out beneath. One of the wights was down, its thrashings abruptly ended as a duergar warrior brought his hammer down upon its skull with hard finality. The dwarves had been driven back, but now, as they saw the reinforcements coming, they surged ahead once more, the theurge summoning fire and brimstone to blast the undead before him. </p><p></p><p>They couldn’t stay here much longer without being detected, Jaron saw. As he drew close enough to the second pit to see that it too was empty, he tried to signal to Beetle, to warn him. But the other halfling had already surged on ahead, and as Jaron watched he leapt down into the last pit, vanishing from view. </p><p></p><p>Jaron swallowed his fear and followed. A fearsome warcry swept through the room, and he turned to see with amazement one of the duergar newcomers smite one of the wights with his hammer. The duergar, through some magical faculty, had expanded to a size that rivaled that of an ogre. His armor and weapons had likewise grown in size, and Jaron felt an involuntary twinge of sympathy for the wight as its broken body was hurled into one of the empty slave pits. </p><p></p><p>They didn’t have much time…</p><p></p><p>An instant later, he realized they had none, as an angry cry drew his attention back over his shoulder. He looked up to see one of the spined devils diving toward him, a hissing sound issuing from it as dozens of deadly needles hurtled out from its body toward the halfling.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Lazybones, post: 4799290, member: 143"] Well, I've stated in the past that 4e, while introducing some interesting concepts like the powers system, isn't really drawing me in the way that 3rd edition did. I can't really tighten it down to something specific, maybe it's the lack of "flair" that Neurotic described. Or maybe I spent too long with 3.0/3.5 and just don't want to invest the time in a new system. I haven't bought anything besides the core books and the first two modules and have no intention of doing so. My next story won't be based on 4th edition, although I'm still enjoying writing this one, and I don't regret taking the time to learn the new ruleset. * * * * * Chapter 37 The door opened with a creak that sounded like the end of the world, filling the chamber with the sound. It instantly drew the attention of the duergar guards, who had been dicing at their table along the far wall of the chamber, and of the two spined devils, who had been arguing in their own foul tongue from their perch high among the rafters of the chamber. The door swung open ponderously, continuing the scream of tortured metal from its hinges. Beyond, only a dark tunnel was visible, gaping malevolently. The duergar guards exchanged a look, and then one of them hurried to the door on their side of the room. The other one drew out his weapon, a big warhammer with a striking head fashioned out of a slab of black metal. The dwarf gestured to the devils, who dropped free of their perch and glided toward the dark opening. One of them flicked its tail, dislodging a number of spines that flew into the gap. “Hold yer blasted darts!” the duergar said. “If’n there be someone in there, take ‘im alive!” The devils hissed something less than flattering at him in Infernal, but they flittered aside as Framarth arrived, the other guard at his heels. “What is the meaning of this?” he asked the other guard. “Don’t know, yer lordship,” the dwarf replied. “Door just opened. Nobody’s s’posed to be in there. Was going to send the devils in to have a look.” The theurge’s eyes narrowed as he regarded the dark opening. Abruptly he lifted a hand, and conjured a spell. An eruption of green flickers materialized in the tunnel beyond the door, followed by tendrils of olive vapor that trickled out into the great chamber. The fumes hung cloyingly in the air, twisting slightly as some invisible gust of wind shaped them. And then the smoke cloud parted, as a small horde of wights burst into the room, screeching as they eagerly sought out warm flesh. Jaron was greeted to a scene of chaos as he tentatively peeked out from behind the heavy door. So far their plan had worked, with Beetle opening this door and he the one leading to the room holding the wights. The two of them had hidden behind the minotaur statue while the situation progressed naturally. He’d agonized over which door to give to Beetle, knowing that his cousin was likely to get into trouble no matter which one he chose, but for once Beetle had done exactly as he’d said. A violent battle raged in the chamber directly in front of him. There were three duergar, currently being swarmed by the five wights in a violent close-quarters melee. Thus far the defenders were holding their own, but the wights seemed to shake off the pounding from the dwarves’ hammers, snarling before leaping back in to try to grab hold of their living foes with their claws. A bright flash of fire blinded Jaron for a moment, and he realized that one of the dwarves was a spellcaster. The wight the mage had hit staggered back, trailing wisps of black smoke from his charred chest, but the monster came in again, forcing the dwarf back onto the defensive. A form out of nightmare streaked down from above, flying low over one of the wights. The flying thing was not much larger than the dwarfs, but as it shot past Jaron could see a forest of dark spines jutting from the wight’s back, and it began to flail wildly as tendrils of smoke rose from the nasty wounds. All in all, chaos. And they had to go out in that… For a moment, Jaron’s resolve faltered, then Beetle shot past him, and started running around the room to the right, toward one of the open pits they’d spotted earlier, when looking under the crack in the door. They’d recognized this place as the slave pits that Rendil had described to them, and they knew that if the Grimmerzhul still held Mara, they’d likely find her here. That had given birth to Jaron’s desperate plan, to set the wights against the defenders, and hopefully find their friend in the confusion. But as he ran after Beetle, that part of his brain still capable of reason started whispering to him all the ways that the plan could go wrong. Another burst of fire that sounded like it was right on top of him added urgency to his movement. But as he approached the pit, he felt a new sensation of dread overcome even that surging terror. The pit was empty. Or more precisely, empty of prisoners; he could see the shackles bolted to the walls, the foul slicks of waste, the tattered scraps of clothing that spoke of slaves now gone. Beetle was already running ahead, around the perimeter of the pit toward the next one. Jaron followed, but as he glanced over across the room, he saw another pair of duergar guards appear through the far door, these two clad in heavy mail, and visored helms that shielded their features but which allowed the wiry forest of their beards to protrude out beneath. One of the wights was down, its thrashings abruptly ended as a duergar warrior brought his hammer down upon its skull with hard finality. The dwarves had been driven back, but now, as they saw the reinforcements coming, they surged ahead once more, the theurge summoning fire and brimstone to blast the undead before him. They couldn’t stay here much longer without being detected, Jaron saw. As he drew close enough to the second pit to see that it too was empty, he tried to signal to Beetle, to warn him. But the other halfling had already surged on ahead, and as Jaron watched he leapt down into the last pit, vanishing from view. Jaron swallowed his fear and followed. A fearsome warcry swept through the room, and he turned to see with amazement one of the duergar newcomers smite one of the wights with his hammer. The duergar, through some magical faculty, had expanded to a size that rivaled that of an ogre. His armor and weapons had likewise grown in size, and Jaron felt an involuntary twinge of sympathy for the wight as its broken body was hurled into one of the empty slave pits. They didn’t have much time… An instant later, he realized they had none, as an angry cry drew his attention back over his shoulder. He looked up to see one of the spined devils diving toward him, a hissing sound issuing from it as dozens of deadly needles hurtled out from its body toward the halfling. [/QUOTE]
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