Session #99 (part ii)
The first thing Martin the Green noticed was a chilling silence. It seemed tangible, like the crispness of a late autumn morning. He held his breath and could not even hear the blood pumping in his ears, though he felt it. Martin opened his eyes.
The Dining Room chamber was dimmer than it had been, but everything was covered in a fuzzy blue glow. The watch-mage sat up and noticed all his companions and recent foes were unconscious, though some had their eyes open. Roland was back in human form. Martin carefully crept over to Richard the Red and waved his hand in front of the mage’s face. There was no reaction. And there was no sound still. He could not even hear his own steps. He stepped over to the nearby Kazrack, slapping and shaking the dwarf to no avail. He even yanked on Kazrack’s beard, but nothing…
Movement up by the raised area in one corner of the chamber caught Martin’s attention. It was a monk he had never seen before. The olive-skinned man wore simple grey woolen trousers with a similarly colored shift above it, cinched with a black velvet rope belt. He wore leather sandals, and his head was clean shaven except for a thin patch of long black hair at the very base of his skull that reached halfway down his back. The monk was covered in scars. Deep whorls have been carved into his scalp, and his face bore the criss-cross marks of a cat o’nine tails purposefully whipped back and forth across it. The bit of his muscular chest that Martin could see beneath the man’s shift was covered in scars as well. He held a spear with a nasty three-edged head gingerly in his hands, and had a straw rucksack over his shoulders. The monk was walking down toward Martin calmly.
The watch-mage tried to speak, but no sound came. He quickly stepped to his left and snatched up Richard the Red’s satchel of material components. The monk continued to walk forward, but leaned his spear on the table and raised his hands slowly in a gesture of peace.
Martin the Green never took his eyes off of him as he stepped over and kicked Razzle’s rapier away from the half-elf’s unconscious form. The monk pointed to the far portal, pointed to Martin and pointed again.
Martin fished in his pouch and pulled out a piece of chalk and rolled it across the large stone table to the monk. The monk nodded again and taking the chalk, wrote on the table in careful block letters, “
I AM ADDER.”
Martin gulped silently as Adder went on writing. “
COME. LET US FIND THE PORTAL TO THE PLANE WHERE THE LOST GOD IS TRAPPED.”
Martin brandished a second piece of chalk. “I will go with you, if you allow me a few moments to finish up some business here and leave my friends a message.” He wrote in a halting script as the chalk wore down.
The monk nodded.
Martin the Green proceeded to awkwardly roll both Richard the Red and Razzle Greyish up in rugs, and tie them up. He checked on Cordell and Norena. They were still gravely wounded, but stable.
“THESE ARE OF NO CONSEQUENCE,” Adder chalked onto the table, after a time. Martin was not doing a good job of casually stalling, as he was hoping his companions would wake up. He held a finger up to the monk and gestured to Ratchis and walked over to the half-orc. He kneeled beside his unconscious companion and reaching down into the pouch that held
the Wurfel Kraft he activated it to keep out all living matter.
Adder walked over, hands clasped behind his back and examined the cube. Martin searched Ratchis until he found one of the clay flasks held the
Blood of Ashronk and tried to pour the contents down the half-orc’s throat. Ratchis choked for a moment, but finally Martin was able to massage it down. Martin sighed when after a moment Ratchis did not awaken.
He looked up at Adder and the monk pointed once again to the portal.
Martin’s shoulders sagged as he depressed the side of the stone cube depicting a still pond and the blue field disappeared. He left the cube with Ratchis. He walked over to the table and took his time to write one last message. Adder walked over, looked at it and shrugged. They were nonsense words. He picked up another piece of chalk and wrote, “
THIS IS POINTLESS. COME AND FACE YOUR DESTINY.”
“What destiny is that?” Martin wrote.
“
OSIRIS’ WILL, was all he wrote in reply.
“And your will, too?” Martin wrote.
“
THEY ARE PARALLEL FOR THE TIME.” Adder threw the chalk onto the stone table and it shattered, but his face never lost its vacant look. He pointed to the portal once again.
“Thomas?” Martin the Green sent his awareness towards his familiar, who was hidden beneath his backpack, beneath the table.
”Yes? that bad monk man gone, yet? I still smell him,” the squirrel chittered.
“I need to go with him, Thomas, and I need you stay here,” Martin replied. “You cannot come where I am going.”
“No!’ Thomas refused. He came running out from under the pack and up to the watch-mage’s shoulder.
“You have to stay,” Martin said again. “Stay with Ratchis. He will take good care of you. I fear I won’t be coming back from where I am going now…”
“Not ever?”
Martin just shook his head. He scratched Martin under the chin and then patted his little head and placed him on Ratchis’ chest. He looked at Adder and nodded. The monk gestured towards the portal and Martin walked through it. Adder followed closely behind.
They passed through the Entrance Chamber with its para-elemental corners. Martin noticed that sound had returned as they passed through the portal.
“Do you know which way to go?” Adder asked. His voice was dry sand falling over rocks. “I am just guessing. So if you have a better idea of which way to go to reach the gate…”
“I have none,” Martin replied. The next chamber was the Kitchen, and Adder led straight ahead through it into a chamber Martin had never seen before.
It was another finely appointed room with polished marble floors, and walls covered in wood panels below and light lavender stucco above. As they walked down a narrow hall, turning into a wider sitting room, Martin noted a twelve foot tall of a shirtless man with a broad chest, bald head and skull cap. (1) He noticed another identical statue on the other side of the sitting room. They were clearly of Hurgun of the Stone.
“Well, Hurgun certainly doesn’t seem to have any lack of vanity…” Martin commented. Adder did not respond. He just set a quick pace through the next portal, and in a moment they back in the Dining Room. It was no longer silent.
Adder stopped.
“What is it?” Martin asked. But the monk just pointed to the left and led that way. Martin looked over his companions sadly and followed. They hurried on through that portal and were in the wood paneled halls of the Library Chamber, where they had finally slain Ora-Amira-El. They went through the opposite portal this time, and came out underneath the tiers of the Earth Room Audience Chamber. Martin was startled at how quiet it was.
As they walked out through the central area Martin noticed the tiers were filled with many motionless modrons. Adder took no notice, once again leading the way to the opposite portal. The portcullis leading to the portal slammed shut behind them of its own accord, startling Martin. Adder took no notice, he just stepped through the portal, pushing Martin ahead of him. They appeared in the dim light of the Hell Chamber. Adder’s pace only flagged when he noticed Martin the Green had tarried by the pedestal in the center of the room. The watch-mage noticed the sapphire that supposedly held the spirit of a dwarven king was back upon it. (2)
“Your destiny…” Adder whispered.
“Yes, yes! My destiny, I know…” Martin muttered continuing to follow the monk. He rubbed the crusty wound on the side of his face.
Adder stepped through the portal and Martin followed. Beyond was a chamber shrouded in pitch darkness. Martin waited a moment.
“The gate is over there,” came Adder’s voice out of the darkness, but Martin did not reply. The watch-mage ducked back through the portal as quietly as he could and began to run for the opposite portal, stopping only to scoop up the sapphire. He was through the Hell Chamber and halfway through around the Library Chamber halls, when he was startled by the sound of something beside him. He looked to see Adder standing there, and then jerked as he felt sharp kick to his lower leg that dropped him to the floor.
Martin looked up at the monk standing above him, his horrific scared face betraying no anger. Martin scrambled to his feet and continued to run. He ran around the corner, and felt a blow from behind as he stumbled to the floor again. This was followed up by another kick. Martin threw himself through the portal and was on his feet again, taking off across the Dining Room, he put the sapphire in a fold of Kazrack’s clothes.
Adder walked through the portal as Martin was shoving Richard’s component pouch under Ratchis’ unconscious form. He stepped away from the half-orc rapidly.
“You’re back!” Thomas chittered in the mage’s mind.
“Not for long…” Martin replied.
“Enough games,” Adder said. “I thought as an alumnus of the Academy you would have some pride about how you face your fate, but if you must be coerced, so be it.”
The monk walked over to Ratchis of Nephthys, and took a deep breath, holding his hand up before him. Martin noticed Adder’s hand shaking with intensity and with a finer and finer arc until, when it was perfectly still, the monk drove his open palm down in the half-orc’s neck, leaving a purple line of bruise.
“Now, I need only will it and your friend will die,” Adder said, calmly. “Shall he die? Or shall you come? If you do not believe me, I can kill him now and apply the quivering palm of Anubis upon another companion, to prove that I will do it.”
“No!” Martin raised his hands. “I will come.” The watch-mage followed the monk from the Dining Room once again.
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It was impossible to tell how much later Kazrack Delver awoke.
He sat up and noticed something fall from his chest to his lap. He fished for it blindly as he looked around at his unconscious friends, and the strange sight of Richard the Red and Razzle rolled and tied up in rugs. His calloused fingers felt the smoothness of the gem and startled, he raised it to his eye.
“Natan-ahb’s Beard!” he exclaimed.
“What happened?” Bastian groaned, getting up onto his arm. He looked around groggily. “Oh! Everything is sparkling…”
“One of these bastards cast a spell that went out of control and zapped us all,” Gunthar swore as he leapt to his feet and walked over to the bound duelist, giving him a swift kick.
“He is already bound. There is no need to harm him anymore. Anyway, I think we might be in Plane of Time, whatever that means,” Kazrack said, standing and looking around with some wonder at the shining all around them. He noticed Martin’s gray squirrel leap from Ratchis’ chest onto the table top. “Look, it is Martin’s animal! Hmm, where is Martin?”
N’kron, Bastian’s hawk familiar, flew over from a corner of the room where he has been standing on one of the cabinets. When the bird landed on the table, the squirrel took off for Ratchis once again.
“Heh, three gulps!” N’kron said to his master. Bastian chided his familiar.
“Maybe one of these bastards knows,” Gunthar pointed down at Razzle and kicked him again, harder than the first time.
“Maybe this writing is a clue,” Bastian said, point to the table top.
“I cannot read human letters,” Kazrack said. Bastian shrugged and shook his head.
“Step aside, dummies!” Gunthar walked over and began to sound out what had been written as best he could. “There are two different sets of hand-writing, and some of this is friggin’ nonsense!” Gunthar sounded out the syllables of the last message Martin had written.
“The pronunciation is all wrong, but it is almost like dwarven,” Kazrack frowned.
“Martin was obviously using the chalk messages to communicate with someone else who was here, Adder…” Bastian said.
“Adder?!!” Kazrack exclaimed, as Ratchis stirred.
“If he was being observed, he might have written in phonetic dwarven in hopes of leaving a secret message,” Bastian continued. “Gunthar read it again, but slower…”
“It’s nonsense!” Gunthar repeated.
“Gunthar, please do it…” Kazrack said
The Neergaardian smirked, but began to read it again.
“’Snake here?’” Kazrack scratched his beard.
“An adder is a kind of snake,” Ratchis said.
“’Everyone is knocked?’” Kazrack continued the awkward translation. “’Must go to Dark Room! Help!’”
“We have to do after him,” Ratchis said. By this time, Roland had awakened as well. “But I am worried about what trouble these two might get into if we leave them here.” The half-orc pointed to Razzle and Richard.
“Simple,” Gunthar said, and he drew a single finger across his neck.
“Richard certainly deserves it ,” Kazrack replied
Ratchis walked over to the crimson-robed watch-mage and drew his long curved hunting knife, but finally sighed and slipped the weapon back in its sheath. “No,” he said. “Martin had commitments to return him to justice and it is for him to decide.”
“Then ya have ta trust to a knot them,” Gunthar laughed. The half-orc nodded and went over and checked the bonds. Richard was still unconscious and well-tied, but he discovered Razzle had been playing at still being knocked out and had wriggled nearly enough to be free. The Friar of Nephthys rolled him over roughly and tightened the bonds again, using some of his rope to make sure the half-elf was fastened well.
“You have won due to unforeseen events,” Razzle grunted. “There is no need to be cruel. We are beaten. Cherish the victory, for in a fair duel, none can defeat a Greyish Brother.”
“Martin might already be dead,” Roland said, ignoring the swordsman.
“It doesn’t matter,” Ratchis replied, pausing to give Thomas a scratch, as the squirrel was on his shoulder. “We cannot abandon a friend. We need to know what happened to him and let him choose freely to do what he has to do, not be coerced by some fallen monk.”
Kazrack nodded. Sergio stirred from atop the table where he lay. They took a moment to quickly explain what was happening.
Roland noticing Norena was not far from consciousness, hog tied her with more than a little bit of lingering spite. He then gagged her and Cordell. As the Thothian was more wounded, the Bastite was gentler with him when tying him up.
Roland shifted back into his dark panther-form and started to smell around the room as Ratchis looked around for the sign of a track.
“This way!” Roland said, gesturing with his head towards one of the portals. A few moments later Ratchis found the slightest imprint of a sandal in the soot in the halls of the Entrance Room, and led the group through a portal to the Kitchen. They stopped again as Roland sniffed and Bastian and Ratchis looked for any sign of passage.
“He was here,” Roland said. “I think they were traveling in a straight line from room to room.”
The rest of the Keepers of the Gate, along with Sergio, followed Roland through the portal into the Library. A green thread led them back into the Dining Room.
“You must have made a mistake in your tracking,” Kazrack said.
“Or they left the Dining Room and came back, and then left again,” Roland speculated. “Could we be experiencing some kind of prolonged disruption of time that is confusing us? I mean… that
was what we were experiencing before, right?”
“It was strange, whatever it was,” Kazrack said. “Strange and unnatural. I did not like it.”
“For once I agree with you,” Roland said.
“There is hope for you yet,” Kazrack replied. Roland snarled, but good-naturedly.
They decided to go back to the Library Chamber and try one of the other two portals. Soon they were in the Audience Chamber with the many ‘sleeping’ modrons. Guessing that perhaps Martin and the monk did not know where they were going either and were being methodical in their search, Ratchis led the group towards the opposite portal, but the portcullis to the tunnel beneath the tiers that led to it was closed.
Thomas leapt off of Ratchis’ shoulder and between the bars. Ratchis tried to lift it and found it was locked.
“Do we need to apply more strength?” Kazrack asked.
Ratchis shook his head and took
the First Key from his belt of chain links and touched it to the gate. There was a click. He lifted it and the party passed through, finding Thomas waiting for them on the other side. They went through the portal and found themselves in the Hell Chamber.
Ratchis, Roland and Bastian began to look around carefully, but little was coming of it.
“Perhaps it was Martin who left me the gem,” Kazrack said, looking at the empty pedestal at the center of the room. “He came here, took the gem, left it with me and then left again.”
“Why would he do that?” Ratchis asked.
Kazrack shrugged.
“Which way do we go?” Roland asked.
“That way,” Kazrack pointed, leaving it to luck. The others shrugged and they made their way through that portal and into a room cloaked in darkness.
End of Session #99
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Notes:
(1) This was the “Chambers” room. The layout of this chamber can be seen behind the sblock: [sblock]
[/sblock]
(2) This was last seen in Session #93, when the dwarf, Aitan Absalom took off with it.
