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Milo Windby's Collected Story Hour


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Milo Windby

First Post
The Lost City – Part 10 (Session 33)

Something shining in the dust distracted Milo from the miracle of Auriga’s rebirth. Milo snatched the bits of jewelry for later examination. He stowed a headband, pearl pendant, and…was that a wedding ring?…in his pouch. ”Mazi, you may want to collect some of this dragon dust. You never know when it might come in handy.”

The old priest was in full swing by the time they reached the crowd around Auriga. He was speaking earnestly to Kanadius, expounding the glories of Usamigaras. Milo grinned; it would be good to have another soul to spread the word. As they drew near the crowd shifted its focus.

”It is the Champion!” came an anonymous shout. Raucous cheers rose from the survivors. Milo ducked his head but raised his hand triumphantly anyway. In a few moments the crowd had settled into the chant that had become all too familiar lately, ”Mi-lo Windby, Mi-lo Windby, Mi-lo Windby.”

Milo motioned for quiet, all too conscious of his companions amused stares. ”Thank you, thank you.” he said after they had calmed somewhat. ”I am not the miracle here though, Auriga is! Listen to what he has to say, there is much wisdom in the words of Usamigaras.”

The crowd’s attention once again turned to the old priest. Milo breathed a sigh of relief as countless eyes shifted away from him. He was trained to stay out of the spotlight, to stick to the shadows and gather information. All of this ‘champion’ stuff was hard to handle. Thoughts of his training brought a pang of guilt. He still hadn’t reported in with his superiors back in Darokin. If he knew how to get a message to them, he would have done so already. Milo made a mental commitment to head for Darokin as soon as they were done here.

”If you’re done soaking up the worship maybe we can get back to business?” asked Mazi, barely suppressing a smile.

Milo groaned, he was never going to live this down with his friends. ”Yeah, yeah. Let’s get back to the temple.”

The group shouldered their way through the crowd and headed back to Zenobea’s stronghold. ”Remember, there’s still a mummy or two loose and who knows what else.” Milo warned.

”Aye, an’ mah axe is ready for ‘em too.” Brigit exclaimed, still heated from battle.

They passed the huge pillars at the temple entrance warily. The profane structure was eerily quiet. The cavernous main hall led to a huge stone bas-relief mural and altar. The mural depicted a twenty-foot high creature made of mostly tentacles. It’s thick trunk split into six tentacles that Milo assumed were used for movement. The upper trunk split into six more, each tipped with a wicked talon. The head, if that’s what it was, ended in a lamprey-like mouth topped with a single eye and a single horn protruding towards the ceiling. The over-all effect was a bit unsettling.

”What would you bet that we’re looking at Zargon himself here?” Mazi asked.

”Nothing, I never bet on sure things,” came Milo’s reply.

The altar below the mural was nothing they hadn’t come to expect in their temple delving. It was crusted over with old, rust-colored blood. It was obvious now what became of those that fell under Zenobea’s charms. The one thing worth note was the hole in the ceiling above the altar.

There were hallways branching to the left and right of the main chamber. They chose to explore the hall to the right first. The tang of exotic spices reached their noses before they came in sight of the next chamber. Milo was reminded of the wares of the spice traders in Darokin that would spin tales of deserts and pyramids. The chamber was filled with long, low tables. Bodies occupied some; others just contained various unknown tools. Milo noticed that the bodies were half-wrapped in bandages. There were various capped urns at the feet of the bodies.

”Mummies, or soon-to-be-mummies from the look of it,” Milo said in disgust.

”Not gonna be any more mummies from them tables,” Brigit said with relish as she set about destroying the bodies and as much of the tables as she could with her heavy axe. After a few moments Jeremiah joined in. Milo approved wholeheartedly.

The only other object besides the tables in the chamber was a small altar that mirrored the main chamber’s. Milo searched the room carefully. He wished to ensure there were no hidden passages to other mummy chambers. After Milo, Brigit, and Jer were satisfied with their respective work, they left the chamber for the main hall.

The hallway to the left of the altar led around a corner to a passage lined with doors. A large sarcophagus lay in an alcove with another small altar at the end of the hall. They passed the doors cautiously. The sarcophagus was too tempting to not investigate first. The heavy stone lid was soon heaved to the side with the help of Brigit and Jeremiah’s muscling. Inside laid an empty coffin with a familiar face carved in the lid. Milo recognized it as the cruel face of Zenobea, the priestess of Zargon they had so recently overthrown. A quick search proved that she didn’t sleep with any valuables and the group decided to move on.

It appeared door nearest to them was slightly ajar. Milo crept in carefully, peering back and forth as he nudged the door open with one of his axes. The cramped cubicle that met his gaze smelled musty and mildewed. Nothing stirred with his entrance. Milo could make out a cot in the dusty murk. There was a small desk lined with books just inside the door. As Milo pushed the door open he was held up short. It seemed the door was jammed. He crept around the half-open door and peered around to the other side. Milo jumped back as the hunched form slid towards him. His axes at the ready, Milo prepared to take on the mummy. The slumped form didn’t move from the ground though. He crept forward to get a closer look.

”Wha’s tha hold up, Milo?” Brigit asked loudly.

Milo startled as her voice broke the quiet. The ‘mummy’ was just one of the priests they had fought earlier. He had come here to die. This place was giving Milo the creeps.

Brigit shouldered her way into the room. ”It’s jus’ a body, sheesh Milo, ya had me worried.”

Milo shrugged and grinned sheepishly as he turned to the writing desk. A neat row of books educating the reader on how to properly embalm mummies set against the wall. A single book lay open on the table. After reading a few passages Milo figured it to be some sort of scripture to Zargon. There didn’t seem to be anything else worthwhile in the room.

The other five rooms were identical to the first, minus the dead body. The last place left to explore was the hole above the main altar. Milo withdrew his rope of climbing and instructed it to fasten itself on the floor above. He went first to scout the next floor. The hole opened to a balcony with two doors opposite each other. Milo called down for the rest to follow him up. As Jeremiah climbed a sudden noise called their attention to the ceiling above. Hurtling through another hole in the ceiling came a large bell. Jeremiah couldn’t dodge the heavy metal as it tumbled past. The wind was knocked from the sturdy barbarian as he was set swinging wildly on the rope. Somehow he managed to hang on as the bell crashed into the altar below.

”Somehow I doubt that was an accident,” Milo said after everyone else had made it up safely. ”Someone up there doesn’t like us.”

”If tha’s tha best they can do, then ah’m not worried,” Brigit scoffed. Jeremiah didn’t seem inclined to agree as he massaged the shoulder that took the brunt of the blow from the falling bell.

They decided to explore the level they were already on before finding out who their mystery assailant was. They’d rather not have anything left unfinished below them as they climbed. All they needed was to have the rope lit on fire from underneath or something worse.

The first door they opened led into a lavish chamber. The walls were lined with yellowed tapestries that at one point were surely a pristine white. A very different altar lay in the center of this room. Carved from the purest ivory and topped with a rotting cushion, it could only be a wedding altar. The tapestries confirmed the guess, depicting a maid clad in the finest gown and a gentleman in royal finery kneeling before the altar.

”And here we have the ill-fated marriage of Zenobea,” muttered Mazi. Milo nodded in agreement.

An ancient book lay open on the altar beside two finely sculpted ivory figurines. The room was bare of any other furnishings. The book was written in an ancient language unknown to all of them. The pictures painstakingly scribed within illustrated various forms and stages of weddings. ”There’s some sort of great tragedy here that I think we’re missing,” Milo conjectured. ”Nothing for it now though, let’s press on.”

The opposite door led into another lavish chamber. A huge four-poster bed dominated this one. The mattress sunk in the frame, rotten to the center. The room couldn’t be less than a thousand years old Milo guessed.

”So we got a weddin’ room an’ a honeymoon room,” Brigit said. ”This Zenobea was one obsessed lady.”

They left the moldering honeymoon suite for the next floor. Milo peered up the hole. He hoped to catch a glimpse of their attacker. After a few moments he decided it was useless. They withdrew their other rope of climbing and commanded it to fasten above. Once again Milo went first.

He clambered out of the hole into a barren chamber. There was another hole above him. He called down for the others to climb. Milo watched the hole above warily. The moment he glanced down to see Kella’s progress up the rope he heard another noise above. He dodged out of the way as the flailing body of a mummy plummeted past. The mummy caught Kella square as she climbed. The druid didn’t let out a single noise. She grabbed the bandaged undead, twisted lithely in the air, and rode the mummy all the way down. The mummy practically disintegrated from the impact of the ground and Kella’s body above.

Kella merely stood up, brushed herself off, and spat on the corpse. Milo shook his head slowly; he was impressed. A few moments later and the entire party were reunited on the third level. Milo drew the rope up and commanded it up to the next level. As Milo climbed he saw a fevered face peer down at him. The look of stark terror in the man above was replaced with stout resolution in seconds. Milo swung out of the way as the last priest of Zenobea plunged by him, screaming. The priest’s body joined the mummy’s below.

Milo shook his head sadly as he progressed up the rope. The last level of the temple opened into an open tower. Milo could see where the priest had cut down the bell. He surveyed the cavern from his vantage point. There came a commotion below, where they had left the crowd of survivors. He shouted a warning down to the others before sliding down the rope.

It felt like an eternity as the group descended the ropes to the main level. Had Zargon come to exact his revenge so soon? Would Usamigaras be doomed to lose his new subjects already? Milo cursed himself for being so small and slow as they ran through the main chamber.

The sight that welcomed him was much less serious than he had feared. It appeared that the last surviving mummy had eluded them in the temple and charged out towards the gathered masses. Auriga had made short work of the lumbering undead with a powerful lightning bolt through its chest. Milo applauded the old priest.

Auriga had been busy during the foray into the temple. Many of Kanadius and Pandora’s people had converted to the worship of Usamigaras. Milo was proud of his god’s new missionary. Auriga led them all to the mage compound. They were shown to sparse rooms to freshen themselves for a feast in their honor.

Milo had to admit that night, for a group of suppressed and poor people, Auriga’s men knew how to throw a party. Food and drink flowed freely. Milo chose not to overdo it; he wanted to be ready in case Zargon made himself known that night. He and Auriga talked much about Usamigaras that night. Unfortunately his god did not have any words of suggestion for Milo, but he figured that it might not be a bad thing. He’d just keep doing what he was doing until he was told otherwise.

Auriga also told them of Zargon. They new he lived on the island in the center of the underground lake. He would only come out when a sacrifice was left on the end of the pier. There was a large gong that was used to signal the sacrifice. They decided that on the morrow they would use the gong and hopefully lure Zargon to the shore rather than having to seek him out in his own stronghold.
 

Nail

First Post
Re: The Lost City – Part 10 (Session 33)

Milo Windby said:
They decided that on the morrow they would use the gong and hopefully lure Zargon to the shore rather than having to seek him out in his own stronghold.
Well, it sounds like a good idea........
 


Nail

First Post
Re: Good Ideas

Brigit Deeperdown said:
Yea thats the key word it sounded like a good idea. I will not however spoil Milo's writting by telling you what really happened. :)

See.......I'm thinkin' that ringing th' gong just let's him get prepared for "supper".

(I'm curious about the "wedding gone bad" thingy, too.)
 

|See.......I'm thinkin' that ringing th' gong just let's him get prepared for "supper".
Whereas I'm thinking ringing the gong starts the Sumo Karaoke!

Sorry. I've recently watched Rugrats in Paris. This is what happens when you have one child old enough to watch movie rentals, and another still young enough to disrupt your sleep patterns.

Better movie than what I expected though.
 




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