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Lazybones's Keep on the Shadowfell/Thunderspire Labyrinth
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<blockquote data-quote="Lazybones" data-source="post: 4849848" data-attributes="member: 143"><p>Well, I finished the story. </p><p></p><p>It will take about a month and a half to get through the posts I have left. As I noted earlier, I don't plan (at the moment) on continuing with 4e in my writing. Nothing against the system specifically, but the adventure path mods just aren't sucking me in the way that The Shackled City or Rappan Athuk did. I've already begun the next project I'll post here, and will probably put up a teaser before this one wraps up. I'm trying something different for the next story; for one thing, there are actual players this time around. <img src="data:image/gif;base64,R0lGODlhAQABAIAAAAAAAP///yH5BAEAAAAALAAAAAABAAEAAAIBRAA7" class="smilie smilie--sprite smilie--sprite1" alt=":)" title="Smile :)" loading="lazy" data-shortname=":)" /></p><p></p><p>* * * * * </p><p></p><p>Chapter 55</p><p></p><p></p><p>Carzen reached for his sword at the ghost’s prouncement, although he wasn’t sure how you could fight foes that you could see through. Surina and Gez likewise tensed, although Vhael, as far as Carzen could see standing behind him, did not so much as flinch a muscle. Gral stood silently at the warlord’s side, but Carzen thought he could see a pale white glow around the tip of the dwarf’s staff, magic held ready in case the ghost tried to make good on its threat. </p><p></p><p>“Are you the guardians of this place, then?” the dragonborn finally said, as the echo of the ghost elf’s words faded. “I would not have expected to see followers of Kord and Pelor protecting a place such as this.</p><p></p><p>“We died here,” the ghost with the dented skull said, his tone mournful. “And like as not you will as well,” the bearded ghost added, the lower part of his body shifting slightly away as he moved, slowly sliding forward to catch up to the rest of him. Carzen felt his gut clench at the sight of it, at all of them. </p><p></p><p>“We were among the best,” the elf woman’s ghost said. “If we could not overcome the defenses protecting the secrets of the Well, it is doubtful that you will fare better.”</p><p></p><p>“We have no interest in secrets. We are here for the prisoners, nothing more.” </p><p></p><p>“A doubtful tale,” the elf woman said. “We know the wonders that this place holds. You have the stink of treasure-seekers about you.”</p><p></p><p>Surina started forward, her eyes flashing angrily, but Vhael again intercepted her with a raised hand, this time a bit more forcefully than before. “You may not have known my kind in life, spirit, but you must know that to the dragonborn, our word is a bond of honor, one that we do not casually sunder. We do not take well to being marked liar. But if it reassures you, I swear upon the sacred name of Bahamut that what I speak is true. We care not for what secrets are hidden here; we are here for our people, and for them alone.”</p><p></p><p>“You speak of the platinum dragon, but you do not wear his sigil,” the ghost with the caved-in helmet said. </p><p></p><p>“The gods know what lies in the hearts of men,” Vhael responded simply. “Icons are for other men to see, not for their eyes.”</p><p></p><p>“You claim ignorance, then, of the fantastic treasures stored within the inner vaults of this place?” the elf woman asked, her words as cutting as any knife despite their disembodied tone. </p><p></p><p>“If we are to be judged by you, I would know with whom I speak,” Vhael said. He stated his name, and the names of his companions, eschewing titles or ranks. The ghosts seemed uninterested, their pale expressions remaining unchanged during the recitation, but when he was finished, the bearded ghost spoke. </p><p></p><p>“I was Valdrag, called ‘the Brute’ by some. I feared no man, and found none such who could best me in a test of strength.”</p><p></p><p>“Apparently something did,” Carzen said, noting the gap in the ghost’s torso. He hadn’t spoken in more than a whisper, but apparently the ghosts had excellent hearing, for Valdrag roared, “I died in glorious battle against a thing out of nightmares, boy! We shall see how you fare, indeed we shall!”</p><p></p><p>Carzen, subdued, did not respond. </p><p></p><p>“I was Sir Terris, knight of Pelor,” the second ghost said. “Pleasant words are easy to speak, dragonborn, and even easier to hear, but they often belie what lies within the heart.”</p><p></p><p>“And I was Mendara,” the elven ghost said. “Tell us more of these ‘prisoners’ you claim to seek. This place is far from any traveled path… why would they be brought here?”</p><p></p><p>“For that, you should have to ask the gnolls we slew to get here,” Vhael said, refusing to be baited. “If they are here, we shall find them, and bring them back to their homes. This I have sworn, and this I shall do.”</p><p></p><p>“Bravely spoken indeed,” Terris said. But Mendara appeared to remain doubtful. </p><p></p><p>“’If’ they are here? So you do not know they are even in this place, then? Your story grows more improbable by the moment, dragon-kin.”</p><p></p><p>“And whether it be prisoners or magic you seek, you will never find them,” Valdreg said. “Even if you defeat the tests created by the original masters of his place, the Guardian that wards the inner sanctum will tear you to pieces.” He shifted again, the two halves of his ghostly body putting truth to his words. </p><p></p><p>Gral touched Vhael lightly on the arm. The two exchanged a long look that contained meaning, in the way that long companions could speak without using words. Vhael turned back to the ghosts. “I would know why you are seeking to provoke us. If you are not set to guard this place, what concern is it of yours why we are here?”</p><p></p><p>Mendara’s angry look was obvious even on her ghostly face, but Terris came forward to hover beside her. “This place is known as the Proving Grounds. It was created by followers of the minotaur god Baphomet, as a trial for those who would seek entry to the inner sanctum. Those original creators have long since left, and the place has new masters. Those you seek would be in the sanctum, if the gnoll lord has them.”</p><p></p><p>“Then that is where we must go,” Vhael said. </p><p></p><p>“You will be tested,” Terris said. “Four items are needed to complete the ritual that opens the way to the sanctum. The same ritual also releases the Guardian that protects this place.”</p><p></p><p>“Aye, and you’ll find this Guardian to be no simple foe,” Valdrag said. </p><p></p><p>Mendara turned her head, so that the companions could better see the burns that had eaten away half of her face. “If you are smart, you will flee now, and avoid our fate.”</p><p></p><p>“That’s a big ‘if’, in our case,” Carzen muttered under his breath. </p><p></p><p>“Our way is forward,” Vhael said. </p><p></p><p>“If you could share your knowledge of these trials, and this Guardian, perhaps we might be better equipped to face them,” Gral said. “We are not without resources.” He held up his staff, and the pale glow of frost brightened down its length. </p><p></p><p>The three ghosts regarded them, silently. Their eyes passed over each of the companions in turn; when they came to Carzen, he felt the weight of judgment in those stares. </p><p></p><p>Finally, the ghosts returned their attention to Vhael. “We will tell you what we can,” Terris said.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Lazybones, post: 4849848, member: 143"] Well, I finished the story. It will take about a month and a half to get through the posts I have left. As I noted earlier, I don't plan (at the moment) on continuing with 4e in my writing. Nothing against the system specifically, but the adventure path mods just aren't sucking me in the way that The Shackled City or Rappan Athuk did. I've already begun the next project I'll post here, and will probably put up a teaser before this one wraps up. I'm trying something different for the next story; for one thing, there are actual players this time around. :) * * * * * Chapter 55 Carzen reached for his sword at the ghost’s prouncement, although he wasn’t sure how you could fight foes that you could see through. Surina and Gez likewise tensed, although Vhael, as far as Carzen could see standing behind him, did not so much as flinch a muscle. Gral stood silently at the warlord’s side, but Carzen thought he could see a pale white glow around the tip of the dwarf’s staff, magic held ready in case the ghost tried to make good on its threat. “Are you the guardians of this place, then?” the dragonborn finally said, as the echo of the ghost elf’s words faded. “I would not have expected to see followers of Kord and Pelor protecting a place such as this. “We died here,” the ghost with the dented skull said, his tone mournful. “And like as not you will as well,” the bearded ghost added, the lower part of his body shifting slightly away as he moved, slowly sliding forward to catch up to the rest of him. Carzen felt his gut clench at the sight of it, at all of them. “We were among the best,” the elf woman’s ghost said. “If we could not overcome the defenses protecting the secrets of the Well, it is doubtful that you will fare better.” “We have no interest in secrets. We are here for the prisoners, nothing more.” “A doubtful tale,” the elf woman said. “We know the wonders that this place holds. You have the stink of treasure-seekers about you.” Surina started forward, her eyes flashing angrily, but Vhael again intercepted her with a raised hand, this time a bit more forcefully than before. “You may not have known my kind in life, spirit, but you must know that to the dragonborn, our word is a bond of honor, one that we do not casually sunder. We do not take well to being marked liar. But if it reassures you, I swear upon the sacred name of Bahamut that what I speak is true. We care not for what secrets are hidden here; we are here for our people, and for them alone.” “You speak of the platinum dragon, but you do not wear his sigil,” the ghost with the caved-in helmet said. “The gods know what lies in the hearts of men,” Vhael responded simply. “Icons are for other men to see, not for their eyes.” “You claim ignorance, then, of the fantastic treasures stored within the inner vaults of this place?” the elf woman asked, her words as cutting as any knife despite their disembodied tone. “If we are to be judged by you, I would know with whom I speak,” Vhael said. He stated his name, and the names of his companions, eschewing titles or ranks. The ghosts seemed uninterested, their pale expressions remaining unchanged during the recitation, but when he was finished, the bearded ghost spoke. “I was Valdrag, called ‘the Brute’ by some. I feared no man, and found none such who could best me in a test of strength.” “Apparently something did,” Carzen said, noting the gap in the ghost’s torso. He hadn’t spoken in more than a whisper, but apparently the ghosts had excellent hearing, for Valdrag roared, “I died in glorious battle against a thing out of nightmares, boy! We shall see how you fare, indeed we shall!” Carzen, subdued, did not respond. “I was Sir Terris, knight of Pelor,” the second ghost said. “Pleasant words are easy to speak, dragonborn, and even easier to hear, but they often belie what lies within the heart.” “And I was Mendara,” the elven ghost said. “Tell us more of these ‘prisoners’ you claim to seek. This place is far from any traveled path… why would they be brought here?” “For that, you should have to ask the gnolls we slew to get here,” Vhael said, refusing to be baited. “If they are here, we shall find them, and bring them back to their homes. This I have sworn, and this I shall do.” “Bravely spoken indeed,” Terris said. But Mendara appeared to remain doubtful. “’If’ they are here? So you do not know they are even in this place, then? Your story grows more improbable by the moment, dragon-kin.” “And whether it be prisoners or magic you seek, you will never find them,” Valdreg said. “Even if you defeat the tests created by the original masters of his place, the Guardian that wards the inner sanctum will tear you to pieces.” He shifted again, the two halves of his ghostly body putting truth to his words. Gral touched Vhael lightly on the arm. The two exchanged a long look that contained meaning, in the way that long companions could speak without using words. Vhael turned back to the ghosts. “I would know why you are seeking to provoke us. If you are not set to guard this place, what concern is it of yours why we are here?” Mendara’s angry look was obvious even on her ghostly face, but Terris came forward to hover beside her. “This place is known as the Proving Grounds. It was created by followers of the minotaur god Baphomet, as a trial for those who would seek entry to the inner sanctum. Those original creators have long since left, and the place has new masters. Those you seek would be in the sanctum, if the gnoll lord has them.” “Then that is where we must go,” Vhael said. “You will be tested,” Terris said. “Four items are needed to complete the ritual that opens the way to the sanctum. The same ritual also releases the Guardian that protects this place.” “Aye, and you’ll find this Guardian to be no simple foe,” Valdrag said. Mendara turned her head, so that the companions could better see the burns that had eaten away half of her face. “If you are smart, you will flee now, and avoid our fate.” “That’s a big ‘if’, in our case,” Carzen muttered under his breath. “Our way is forward,” Vhael said. “If you could share your knowledge of these trials, and this Guardian, perhaps we might be better equipped to face them,” Gral said. “We are not without resources.” He held up his staff, and the pale glow of frost brightened down its length. The three ghosts regarded them, silently. Their eyes passed over each of the companions in turn; when they came to Carzen, he felt the weight of judgment in those stares. Finally, the ghosts returned their attention to Vhael. “We will tell you what we can,” Terris said. [/QUOTE]
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