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Lazybones's Keep on the Shadowfell/Thunderspire Labyrinth
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<blockquote data-quote="Lazybones" data-source="post: 4799812" data-attributes="member: 143"><p>Posting this late due to the site being down for a few days. </p><p></p><p>* * * * * </p><p></p><p>Chapter 38</p><p></p><p></p><p>Jaron hurled himself forward, rolling into a crouch as he heard the ragged pings of the devil’s spines hitting the stone floor behind him. His momentum almost carried him over the edge of the open pit, and he had to roll his arms for a moment to recover his balance. Behind him, he could hear the devil shriek as it swooped around for another pass. </p><p></p><p>His gaze passed over Beetle twice before he recognized his cousin, pressed up against the wall in the deep shadows that filled the open pit. “We have to get out of here, now!” he hissed. </p><p></p><p>Beetle glanced up at him, but returned his attention to whatever he was doing down there in the slave pit. Jaron looked up to see that the devil had completed its circle and was coming back around toward him. The duergar had dropped another of the wights, its struggles fading even as the theurge continued to blast it with tendrils of bright fire. One of the guards had been knocked onto his back, but even as Jaron turned his head one of the enlarged shock troopers bashed the wight tearing at him, knocking the undead monster off before it could get a good hold with its claws. The last wight had taken a pounding from the other trooper and the last guard, but it continued to attack even as it absorbed hammer blows that would have left a living creature lying in a broken heap on the floor. </p><p></p><p>The devil dove, and before it could launch another barrage of spines, Jaron swallowed and leapt into the pit. </p><p></p><p>He landed lightly on his feet, coming up in a roll that absorbed the shock of impact. The stink was even worse down here, but like in the other pits, the shackles set into the walls dangled empty. Or nearly empty, he realized, as Beetle came away from the wall and moved toward him. His cousin was carrying someone, a prisoner. </p><p></p><p>With a start, Jaron realized that the captive was a goblin. The wretched thing was in poor shape, but he was conscious, and found his footing as Beetle dragged him toward the narrow ramp that led up out of the pit. Jaron got there first, and led the way up. </p><p></p><p>He was almost at the lip when the devil dropped down from above to block his path. </p><p></p><p>“Going somewhere?” it hissed at him. </p><p></p><p>Jaron started in surprise, but something flashed past his head and caught the devil on the side of its face, drawing another furious shriek and staggering the thing. Jaron didn’t hesitate and rushed past before it could recover, Beetle and the goblin close behind. A pain exploded in his arm, and he looked down to see a pair of five-inch spines jutting from his sleeve. He didn’t stop to pull them out, only glanced back to see that Beetle was still with him as he ran toward the door. </p><p></p><p>The only problem was that they weren’t the only ones. </p><p></p><p>The wights were down, and the shrieking of the devils had drawn the attention of the dwarves, who’d belatedly spotted the halflings trying to escape with their last remaining prisoner. Jaron spotted more duergar coming into the room through the far door, but his more immediate concern was the two ogre-sized shock troopers that started lumbering toward him, their heavy boots causing the ground to shake with their coming. Behind them, the wounded theurge was shouting orders, punctuated by a bolt of flames that thankfully flew wild, striking the wall a good five paces above the diminutive raiders. Beetle shouted something taunting that thankfully Jaron could not make out; his full attention was on the door ahead, ten paces, eight, five…</p><p></p><p>The second devil dropped out of the air ahead of him like a rock, intent on blocking their escape. But through some instinct Jaron jerked aside from the sweeping claws, unbalancing the devil as it landed with a hard thrust of his shoulder. He felt pain again as the blow drove several spines through the leather of his tunic, but then the reassuring bulk of the doorway was there, and he was through. He glanced back to see Beetle stomp on the devil’s face with both booted fee, knocking it over onto its back, laughing as he sprang through the opening a step behind the panicked goblin. Beetle kicked the door shut behind him a scant instant before it shook with the force of a heavy impact from outside. The door held; they’d rigged the lock earlier so that it would engage when the door was closed again. But as the door rang again, this time from the blow of a duergar hammer, Jaron knew that it wouldn’t stop their pursuers for more than a few seconds. </p><p></p><p>“Hoot!” Beetle exclaimed, leaning forward with his hands on his knees as he caught his breath. The goblin sagged against a pile of crumbling stone, his body trembling with fear. But Jaron wouldn’t let them linger. “Come on!” he said, drawing Beetle and the goblin after him as he led them back down the passage they had navigated earlier, back to the room where they’d narrowly escaped the wights. The dusty chamber was as they had left it, save for fresh tracks left by the undead where they’d gathered around the iron door. Jaron hoped that there weren’t any more of those foul things lurking around the chamber, but he didn’t let that fear slow his steps as he ran toward the other side of the room and the door that led back out onto the battlements. Behind him the pounding grew louder, and he could hear the ugly sound of wood cracking. </p><p></p><p>The door leading outside resisted his tug, but it gave way as Beetle added his strength to Jaron’s. Creaking open, it revealed the empty balcony bounded by the jagged stone teeth of the battlement. Jaron let out a relieved breath—he’d half expected to find a dozen dwarves waiting for them here. </p><p></p><p>As if summoned by the thought, the door on the far end of the battlement burst open, and three armored duergar warriors emerged. </p><p></p><p>“Beetle, no!” he said, as his cousin turned toward them. The duergar spotted the fugitives and lifted their weapons, confident that their foe had no way out. Jaron saw another pair of dwarves emerge from the citadel onto the bridge, these two carrying massive bolt-throwers that were cocked and loaded. </p><p></p><p>Jaron found that he was running, not toward the duergar and certain death, or back toward the slave pits and an almost equally certain fate. He was running straight ahead, toward the low wall of stone teeth that separated them from a vast chasm, and a darkness that seemed to go on almost forever…</p><p></p><p>Beetle was running beside him, all but carrying the goblin between them. The dwarves were almost on top of them, and Jaron saw that there would be no time to stop, no time to think about this as the pair on the bridge lifted their crossbows, took aim…</p><p></p><p><em>Oh, gods, I’m not going to do this,</em> he thought, even as he shouted, “Grab onto me!” and the three of them leapt forward, onto the top of the battlement, then over. Jaron felt something pluck at his cap, then it was gone, and he was falling, falling…</p><p></p><p>The rope was there, right where he’d left it. He almost forgot to grab it until it was too late, and only the fact that he’d all but fallen directly onto it gave him the chance to take hold of the narrow strand with both hands. The loop he’d tied around the stone jut to anchor it couldn’t hold against the sudden weight of two halflings and a goblin, and as it tore free the three of them went plummeting downward, picking up speed as they were catapulted through empty blackness. The rope creaked under their weight as they reached the bottom of their arc, still accelerating, and Jaron offered a prayer to whatever gods might be watching that his pitons held. Their downward momentum was turned into forward flight, and they started to slow—incrementally—as they were flung forward toward the far side of the chasm. </p><p></p><p>“Woohoo!” Beetle screamed in triumph, as the duergar peered down into the chasm, trying to figure out exactly what had just happened.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Lazybones, post: 4799812, member: 143"] Posting this late due to the site being down for a few days. * * * * * Chapter 38 Jaron hurled himself forward, rolling into a crouch as he heard the ragged pings of the devil’s spines hitting the stone floor behind him. His momentum almost carried him over the edge of the open pit, and he had to roll his arms for a moment to recover his balance. Behind him, he could hear the devil shriek as it swooped around for another pass. His gaze passed over Beetle twice before he recognized his cousin, pressed up against the wall in the deep shadows that filled the open pit. “We have to get out of here, now!” he hissed. Beetle glanced up at him, but returned his attention to whatever he was doing down there in the slave pit. Jaron looked up to see that the devil had completed its circle and was coming back around toward him. The duergar had dropped another of the wights, its struggles fading even as the theurge continued to blast it with tendrils of bright fire. One of the guards had been knocked onto his back, but even as Jaron turned his head one of the enlarged shock troopers bashed the wight tearing at him, knocking the undead monster off before it could get a good hold with its claws. The last wight had taken a pounding from the other trooper and the last guard, but it continued to attack even as it absorbed hammer blows that would have left a living creature lying in a broken heap on the floor. The devil dove, and before it could launch another barrage of spines, Jaron swallowed and leapt into the pit. He landed lightly on his feet, coming up in a roll that absorbed the shock of impact. The stink was even worse down here, but like in the other pits, the shackles set into the walls dangled empty. Or nearly empty, he realized, as Beetle came away from the wall and moved toward him. His cousin was carrying someone, a prisoner. With a start, Jaron realized that the captive was a goblin. The wretched thing was in poor shape, but he was conscious, and found his footing as Beetle dragged him toward the narrow ramp that led up out of the pit. Jaron got there first, and led the way up. He was almost at the lip when the devil dropped down from above to block his path. “Going somewhere?” it hissed at him. Jaron started in surprise, but something flashed past his head and caught the devil on the side of its face, drawing another furious shriek and staggering the thing. Jaron didn’t hesitate and rushed past before it could recover, Beetle and the goblin close behind. A pain exploded in his arm, and he looked down to see a pair of five-inch spines jutting from his sleeve. He didn’t stop to pull them out, only glanced back to see that Beetle was still with him as he ran toward the door. The only problem was that they weren’t the only ones. The wights were down, and the shrieking of the devils had drawn the attention of the dwarves, who’d belatedly spotted the halflings trying to escape with their last remaining prisoner. Jaron spotted more duergar coming into the room through the far door, but his more immediate concern was the two ogre-sized shock troopers that started lumbering toward him, their heavy boots causing the ground to shake with their coming. Behind them, the wounded theurge was shouting orders, punctuated by a bolt of flames that thankfully flew wild, striking the wall a good five paces above the diminutive raiders. Beetle shouted something taunting that thankfully Jaron could not make out; his full attention was on the door ahead, ten paces, eight, five… The second devil dropped out of the air ahead of him like a rock, intent on blocking their escape. But through some instinct Jaron jerked aside from the sweeping claws, unbalancing the devil as it landed with a hard thrust of his shoulder. He felt pain again as the blow drove several spines through the leather of his tunic, but then the reassuring bulk of the doorway was there, and he was through. He glanced back to see Beetle stomp on the devil’s face with both booted fee, knocking it over onto its back, laughing as he sprang through the opening a step behind the panicked goblin. Beetle kicked the door shut behind him a scant instant before it shook with the force of a heavy impact from outside. The door held; they’d rigged the lock earlier so that it would engage when the door was closed again. But as the door rang again, this time from the blow of a duergar hammer, Jaron knew that it wouldn’t stop their pursuers for more than a few seconds. “Hoot!” Beetle exclaimed, leaning forward with his hands on his knees as he caught his breath. The goblin sagged against a pile of crumbling stone, his body trembling with fear. But Jaron wouldn’t let them linger. “Come on!” he said, drawing Beetle and the goblin after him as he led them back down the passage they had navigated earlier, back to the room where they’d narrowly escaped the wights. The dusty chamber was as they had left it, save for fresh tracks left by the undead where they’d gathered around the iron door. Jaron hoped that there weren’t any more of those foul things lurking around the chamber, but he didn’t let that fear slow his steps as he ran toward the other side of the room and the door that led back out onto the battlements. Behind him the pounding grew louder, and he could hear the ugly sound of wood cracking. The door leading outside resisted his tug, but it gave way as Beetle added his strength to Jaron’s. Creaking open, it revealed the empty balcony bounded by the jagged stone teeth of the battlement. Jaron let out a relieved breath—he’d half expected to find a dozen dwarves waiting for them here. As if summoned by the thought, the door on the far end of the battlement burst open, and three armored duergar warriors emerged. “Beetle, no!” he said, as his cousin turned toward them. The duergar spotted the fugitives and lifted their weapons, confident that their foe had no way out. Jaron saw another pair of dwarves emerge from the citadel onto the bridge, these two carrying massive bolt-throwers that were cocked and loaded. Jaron found that he was running, not toward the duergar and certain death, or back toward the slave pits and an almost equally certain fate. He was running straight ahead, toward the low wall of stone teeth that separated them from a vast chasm, and a darkness that seemed to go on almost forever… Beetle was running beside him, all but carrying the goblin between them. The dwarves were almost on top of them, and Jaron saw that there would be no time to stop, no time to think about this as the pair on the bridge lifted their crossbows, took aim… [i]Oh, gods, I’m not going to do this,[/i] he thought, even as he shouted, “Grab onto me!” and the three of them leapt forward, onto the top of the battlement, then over. Jaron felt something pluck at his cap, then it was gone, and he was falling, falling… The rope was there, right where he’d left it. He almost forgot to grab it until it was too late, and only the fact that he’d all but fallen directly onto it gave him the chance to take hold of the narrow strand with both hands. The loop he’d tied around the stone jut to anchor it couldn’t hold against the sudden weight of two halflings and a goblin, and as it tore free the three of them went plummeting downward, picking up speed as they were catapulted through empty blackness. The rope creaked under their weight as they reached the bottom of their arc, still accelerating, and Jaron offered a prayer to whatever gods might be watching that his pitons held. Their downward momentum was turned into forward flight, and they started to slow—incrementally—as they were flung forward toward the far side of the chasm. “Woohoo!” Beetle screamed in triumph, as the duergar peered down into the chasm, trying to figure out exactly what had just happened. [/QUOTE]
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