Metropolis (The World in Waiting) - Chapter One

[D20Dazza]

Ghost Hound Elf Bard

"It was right... over... there" Taran points to the small area where he found the poor child.

"Slowly play your light over the area my friend so we can get a better look"

 

[Festy_Dog]

Turning completely and regaining his composure, Ba'aktar's eyes begged him to lay down and sleep, but the form of Ulam against the wall, slowly getting to his feet with new knives in his hand, brought an immediate danger that allowed the mighty half-orc to ignore his urges, at least for the moment.

There were no words left, blood had been shed. Its warmth flowed down his lower back and legs. He wanted this, deep down he honestly did. He had been confronted with a challenge, this was a worthy opponent. Sharp pain throbbed, and something within him stirred.

Ba'aktar's eyes flickered once more before a fire lit within them, and they flickered no more. The situation receded in his mind, events going on around him suddenly became dull, grey, and unimportant. There was no more emotion, he couldn't feel anything anymore. All he could see was Ulam, surrounded with a red haze, filling his mind. All he could feel was a distant rage closing fast, sweeping through him like the old fires of Ashstone.

Ba'aktar knew this sensation well, he felt the rage, and yet he didn't. He felt as though he had taken a step back from himself, and what was before him was a kind of juggernaut which he held the reins to. He didn't need to change his course though, Ulam was already in his sights. He felt himself ease his grip on the semblance of self-control that remained, and he suddenly lurched forward. A bestial roar signalled the beginning of what was now Ulam's test of survival.

 

[Phoenix]

"Slowly play your light over the area my friend so we can get a better look"

[sblock]Taran Spot check (DC hidden) +12 - Failure
Ghost Spot check (DC hidden) +7 - Failure
[/sblock]

The light on Taran's spear ripples across the chamber, slowly illuminating the area before them. On the far side of the chamber a barbed metal chain is fixed to a ring on the wall, the other end hangs loosly on the stone floor nearby. There seems to be no trace of the creature that had attacked Taran previously, his body most likely washed away in the river of filth.

 

[Phoenix]

There were no words left, blood had been shed. Its warmth flowed down his lower back and legs. He wanted this, deep down he honestly did. He had been confronted with a challenge, this was a worthy opponent. Sharp pain throbbed, and something within him stirred.

Ba'aktar's eyes flickered once more before a fire lit within them, and they flickered no more. The situation receded in his mind, events going on around him suddenly became dull, grey, and unimportant. There was no more emotion, he couldn't feel anything anymore. All he could see was Ulam, surrounded with a red haze, filling his mind. All he could feel was a distant rage closing fast, sweeping through him like the old fires of Ashstone.

Ba'aktar knew this sensation well, he felt the rage, and yet he didn't. He felt as though he had taken a step back from himself, and what was before him was a kind of juggernaut which he held the reins to. He didn't need to change his course though, Ulam was already in his sights. He felt himself ease his grip on the semblance of self-control that remained, and he suddenly lurched forward. A bestial roar signalled the beginning of what was now Ulam's test of survival.

[sblock]Ulam's Attack Roll (AC 19) +18 - Miss
Ulam's Attack Roll (AC 19) +23 - Hit
Ulam's Damage Roll - 3pts damage
Ba'aktar's Attack Roll (AC 17) +20 - Hit
Ba'aktar's Damage Roll - 10pts damage
[/sblock]

The heavily bleeding form of Ulam struggled to his feet, hurling two more knives at the charging form of Ba'aktar, desperate to stop the stampeding war monster from crushing his small form into the wall. The first blade glanced off the steel mesh that protected the half-orc's torso, the second bit home deep into the side of his flesh, almost causing him to falter.

The Khora now had a life of it's own, swinging downwards towards the lurching form of Ulam who desperately flung himself to one side. The sickening crunch that followed as the sword bit into his flesh, broke bones and severed major organs caused a spray of blood that folloed the length of the Khora back to its owner, spraying Ba'aktar across the face.

 

[Bront]

[sblock]Taran Spot check (DC hidden) +12 - Failure
Ghost Spot check (DC hidden) +7 - Failure
[/sblock]

The light on Taran's spear ripples across the chamber, slowly illuminating the area before them. On the far side of the chamber a barbed metal chain is fixed to a ring on the wall, the other end hangs loosly on the stone floor nearby. There seems to be no trace of the creature that had attacked Taran previously, his body most likely washed away in the river of filth.

"That barbed chain was around her foot, and the creature came from over there." Taran peers down where that creature had come from.

 

[Festy_Dog]

The heavily bleeding form of Ulam struggled to his feet, hurling two more knives at the charging form of Ba'aktar, desperate to stop the stampeding war monster from crushing his small form into the wall. The first blade glanced off the steel mesh that protected the half-orc's torso, the second bit home deep into the side of his flesh, almost causing him to falter.

The Khora now had a life of it's own, swinging downwards towards the lurching form of Ulam who desperately flung himself to one side. The sickening crunch that followed as the sword bit into his flesh, broke bones and severed major organs caused a spray of blood that folloed the length of the Khora back to its owner, spraying Ba'aktar across the face.

Ba'aktar came back to his senses, having defeated his opponent (in a disappointingly short time, he might add, but what can you expect from small folk?). The red haze faded from his vision like the morning mists, and he ascertained what was going on around him. He plucked out the dagger that was protuding from him, and let it fall down beside Ulam's corpse. He tasted victory upon his lips, but Ba'aktar doubted that Yu'olan would be impressed by his colleagues killing one another.

"You wee'uns alright?" he called back to where the half-dozen children were standing around the corpse of one of their caretakers.

When Ba'aktar heard his own voice he realised he was winded, and took a moment to see how bad his injuries were. He had been hurt worse before, but it would take time to recover, and somehow Ba'aktar didn't expect Hentre to wait for him before seeking revenge. Assuming he was still alive though, he may have bled out if what Ulam said had any credit to it.

He turned about, and plodded over to Yu'olan's slumped form, leaving a trail of bloody footprints as he went. Ba'aktar checked the human's condition and propped him up against a wall, casting a glance towards where Hentre was to make sure the halfling was still there.

"I'm sorry," he said to the children as he stood back up, lacking the eloquence to think of much else to add to that, "I guess you don't have anywhere else to go."

He slowly collected Ulam's daggers, becoming mindful of the injuries to his legs, and inspected the weapons as he sat down next to Yu'olan. He was a tad confused right now, and needed some time to think. He had saved the orphans, but what could he do with them now?

 

[Phoenix]

He turned about, and plodded over to Yu'olan's slumped form, leaving a trail of bloody footprints as he went. Ba'aktar checked the human's condition and propped him up against a wall, casting a glance towards where Hentre was to make sure the halfling was still there.

"I'm sorry," he said to the children as he stood back up, lacking the eloquence to think of much else to add to that, "I guess you don't have anywhere else to go."

He slowly collected Ulam's daggers, becoming mindful of the injuries to his legs, and inspected the weapons as he sat down next to Yu'olan. He was a tad confused right now, and needed some time to think. He had saved the orphans, but what could he do with them now?

Yu'olan moaned a little for being moved and Hentre's chest was still rising and falling, so the both of them were definately alive. The wounds that had srouted mysteriously on heir bodies had disappeared sometime during Ba'aktar's fight with Ulam. It seemed that even though the two of tem had worked togeter before, there surely was no honour amongst thieves.

All six of the children staired at the beaten and bloody half-orc that stared at them with weary eyes. One of the girls at the rear, the youngest of the group no more than 3 or 4 years old, began to cry. The other five stepped away, watching her slump to the ground in pain and tears, holding her stomach in agony.

Within moments she was vomiting a vile black ash in thick clouds, and with each heave her body was racked with spasms. Before Ba'aktar's very eyes the girls form got smaller, more frail, sliding into itself like a stone dropped into quicksand. The years dropped off her in seconds and her infantile form continued to produce the dark clouds that spewed form from her mouth.

Then she was a baby, a newborn. Her heart stopped, Ba'aktar could hear the beating one moment, then not another. She was dead.

 

[Festy_Dog]

Yu'olan moaned a little for being moved and Hentre's chest was still rising and falling, so the both of them were definately alive. The wounds that had srouted mysteriously on heir bodies had disappeared sometime during Ba'aktar's fight with Ulam. It seemed that even though the two of tem had worked togeter before, there surely was no honour amongst thieves.

All six of the children staired at the beaten and bloody half-orc that stared at them with weary eyes. One of the girls at the rear, the youngest of the group no more than 3 or 4 years old, began to cry. The other five stepped away, watching her slump to the ground in pain and tears, holding her stomach in agony.

Within moments she was vomiting a vile black ash in thick clouds, and with each heave her body was racked with spasms. Before Ba'aktar's very eyes the girls form got smaller, more frail, sliding into itself like a stone dropped into quicksand. The years dropped off her in seconds and her infantile form continued to produce the dark clouds that spewed form from her mouth.

Then she was a baby, a newborn. Her heart stopped, Ba'aktar could hear the beating one moment, then not another. She was dead.

Ba'aktar's shoulders sagged when he realised the other halfling was alive. He wasn't really in a condition to fight anymore, so he'd have to kill Hentre while the halfling was unable to fight back. He started to get up, grabbing for his khora so as to carry out the grizzly deed before it could be done to him. He ignored the crying at first but then something caught his eye, the other children had moved away from the youngest.

Ba'aktar paused to see what was the matter, but became alarmed when the child started vomiting. He forgot about his injuries for a moment, and was crouching next to the child in moments.

"Wh- what's wrong with her!?" he asked the other children frantically, "How do you stop it!?"

There was nothing he could do however, and the child de-aged in front of him, then died. He scrambled back a few paces.

"What was that?" he asked them, barely containing a sense of panic, "A disease? How many of you have it?"

He glanced once more towards Hentre, wondering how long he had before the halfling regained his composure. It really would just be simpler to kill the little fellow while he had the chance, but his confusion lent him indecision. What he wanted to do most was throw the incapacitated Yu'olan over his shoulder and get as far as he could from the damn orphanage and its cursed children.

"Yu'olan, wake up!" Ba'aktar yelled at Yu'olan, "Wake up, damn you! It's all gone wrong!"

The khora was clenched in his fist, and his gaze was now on the remaining halfling. There was no satisfaction in killing something this way, but it seemed more a question of survival now.

 

[Phoenix]

He glanced once more towards Hentre, wondering how long he had before the halfling regained his composure. It really would just be simpler to kill the little fellow while he had the chance, but his confusion lent him indecision. What he wanted to do most was throw the incapacitated Yu'olan over his shoulder and get as far as he could from the damn orphanage and its cursed children.

"Yu'olan, wake up!" Ba'aktar yelled at Yu'olan, "Wake up, damn you! It's all gone wrong!"

The khora was clenched in his fist, and his gaze was now on the remaining halfling. There was no satisfaction in killing something this way, but it seemed more a question of survival now.

A moaning escaped from Yu'olan's lips and his eyes barely opened enough to let him peer at Ba'aktar's paniced face. "Wha'...."

There was a small tugging at Ba'aktar's pants that lasted only a second and his eyes caught the worried face of one of the small children who looked up at the massive warrior with eyes full of worry and fear, but not of the half-orc.

"Ba'aktar..."

Ba'aktar's eyes grew dim and his vision flashed for a moment and he looked up at the grinning face of Ulam standing over him with knives at the ready, plunging down into Ba'aktar's throat victoriously.

But Ulam was dead. Grasping his throat, Ba'aktar looked across at the still form of the murderous halfling that lay in a pool of blood on the far side of the chamber. It was almost like, for a second, he had lost the fight...

"...it hurts too much, we are dying..."

Ulam clambered through the window of the church nimbly, grasping his sharp knives as he crawled across to the children's cots...

"...we cannot..."

With a swift movement Ulam's tinderstick snaps to life and he gently sets each of the candles that rest within the polished half-orc's skull burning...

"...carry on."

The boy collapses on the floor next to Yu'olan's waking form and slowly regresses from an 8yr old child, to the form of a 4yr old. Yu'olan opens his eyes a little and looks up.

"Oooo...what happened? What did I miss?"

 

[Festy_Dog]

The boy collapses on the floor next to Yu'olan's waking form and slowly regresses from an 8yr old child, to the form of a 4yr old. Yu'olan opens his eyes a little and looks up.

"Oooo...what happened? What did I miss?"

Ba'aktar came to a decision. He hadn't done many good things in his lifetime, but he wasn't about to see any more of these children die. One was too many. He didn't know what was wrong with them, and clearly couldn't help, so he needed to find someone who knew and could.

"Olan, you leave the other priest alive? Tell me you did," he said hurriedly, and wiped the blood on his hands onto his coat, "These kids got something real wrong with them, they're no good for sellin', they need help."

As he said this he carefully picked up the young boy who seemed to become harmed from trying to communicate to Ba'aktar what was going wrong.

"Them daggers beside you are Ulam's. Some of them look like they could fetch a good price, well made, but I'm no expert. Take them, helps make up for no loot, right? Where's the closest holy place what'll help sick young'uns? You're helping me cart them over there," Ba'aktar said.