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Story Hour
"Out of the Frying Pan"- Book IV - Into the Fire [STORY HOUR COMPLETED - 12/25/06]
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<blockquote data-quote="el-remmen" data-source="post: 2824712" data-attributes="member: 11"><p><strong>Session #87 (part ii)</strong></p><p></p><p><span style="font-size: 15px">Teflem, the 27th of Keent – 565 H.E.</span></p><p></p><p>“Oh! You’re here!” Richard the Red said with real delight as the Keepers of the Gate marched up the narrow hall into the pantry. Razzle was balancing a chair on two legs while he stood with on foot on the back rest and one on the seat. He was repeatedly drawing his rapier and performing some maneuver and then sheathing it again with impressive speed. Cordell looked up from where he was writing in a journal.</p><p></p><p>“Bastian!” Richard cried when he saw the bearded warrior step out of the shadows of the hallway. “What a surprise! Five go in and six come out! How did this happen?”</p><p></p><p>Roland looked from Richard to Bastian and his eyes narrowed. Martin the Green dropped his pack and then plopped into a chair exhaustedly. </p><p></p><p>“You know each other?” Kazrack asked.</p><p></p><p>“Richard was a frequent visitor to Thorad-Klen when I stayed with them,” Bastian said. “He was a friend of the chieftain and the shaman.”</p><p></p><p>“Thorad-Klen? That sounds almost dwarven,” Kazrack said.</p><p></p><p>“It is… Kind of…” Bastian said by way of explanation. (1)</p><p></p><p>“What were you doing in Thorad-Klen?” Martin asked his fellow watch-mage.</p><p></p><p>“It pays to know all kinds of people, Martin,” Richard winked.</p><p></p><p>“How long were we gone?” Ratchis asked.</p><p></p><p>“You weren’t gone all that long,” Richard said, scratching under the rings of his auburn beard.</p><p></p><p>“How long?” asked Ratchis, who dropped his pack to the ground.</p><p></p><p>“Little less than a day and a half,” Richard replied. The party let go a collective sigh. “I am more than a little curious about what exactly lays on the other side of the portal. Do enlighten us.”</p><p></p><p>“Yes,” Cordell said, dipping his quill in a bottle of ink. “I will make note of it for the archives of the Church of Thoth.”</p><p></p><p>“That’s nice,” Roland said, clucking his tongue. “But we can discuss it upstairs.”</p><p></p><p>“That <em>paladin</em> is still up there, dutifully fulfilling the promise he made to you,” Richard the Red said. “It is best we talk down here out of his ear shot. No need for him to know too much.”</p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p>The Keepers of the Gate agreed and recounted a fast and loose version of the events in Topaline. </p><p></p><p>“What do you think that skeletal sorcerer was?” Richard asked Martin.</p><p></p><p>“I thought it might be a lich, but aside from its ability to teleport people away, its magical power seemed limited,” Martin said.</p><p></p><p>“You should check the diadem you said you found on it and make it is not a phylactery,” Richard said. “The lich’s spirit might be housed there waiting for a chance possess someone.”</p><p></p><p>Kazrack fetched the diadem from his pack and a quick <em>detect magic</em> allayed their fears.</p><p></p><p>“And Bastian, how did you get there? Did you take the aid of some fiend?” Richard asked with a wide smile.</p><p></p><p>“Fiend? No. It was no fiend,” Bastian said with a straight face. (2)</p><p></p><p>“Has there been any word from Norena?” Roland changed the subject.</p><p></p><p>“No,” Richard replied, and Razzle shook his head sadly.</p><p></p><p>The priest of Bast attempted a <em>sending</em> to his fellow priest, but there was no response.</p><p></p><p>”We can’t waste any more time,” Ratchis said. “We need to go to the appointed spot on the ridge and wait for the proper time. These things aren’t exact.”</p><p></p><p>“We need to find Norena,” Roland complained. “She has been gone six days and her companions do not seem the least bit upset.”</p><p></p><p>“Norena is big girl,” Richard the Red said.</p><p></p><p>“Don’t ever let Norena hear you call her big,” Razzle laughed.</p><p></p><p>“So where are we going exactly?” Richard asked Ratchis.</p><p></p><p>“You’ll know when we get there,” Ratchis said.</p><p></p><p>“I am still not sure we should bring him,” Kazrack said.</p><p></p><p>“You’re never going to trust me, are you?” Richard asked the Keepers of the Gate with a smile.</p><p></p><p>“Why should we?” asked Ratchis.</p><p></p><p>“Because I have always told you the truth,” Richard replied without pause.</p><p></p><p>The Keepers of the Gate ascended into the temple proper, where the Company of the Impervious Ward was still camped. Heriot of the Ironstaff was conscious once again, and she shot dirty looks at Martin as the group made to leave.</p><p></p><p>“We have kept our part of the agreement and will leave on the morrow,” said Sir Clerebold of Thoth.</p><p></p><p>“I thought it was the day after tomorrow that you had agreed to leave,” Roland commented.</p><p></p><p>Clerebold’s fair features grew red as he stood, showing more emotion than he had during the entire combat between the two groups a couple of days earlier. “Do you mock me?”</p><p></p><p>“No, sir… No, he does not,” Martin the Green said, raising his hands to smooth things over. “Tomorrow will be fine. And it is my sincere hope that this situation does not leave you ill-favored by your order or your god.”</p><p></p><p>“Either way, there is much to atone for,” Clerebold said, sitting back down.</p><p></p><p>----------------------------</p><p></p><p>Outside the winds whipped wildly, seemingly in all directs, wrapping cloaks around bodies and branches about trees. The winds swirled up all the ash that had fallen across the landscape obscuring vision to just under a dozen feet in any direction. Alternately covering their mouths and shielding their eyes the Keepers of the Gate, joined now by Richard the Red, Cordell of Thoth, and Razzle Greyish lined up and began to march south as best they could. Ratchis led the way, planning on taking a wide berth as possible around Summit.</p><p></p><p>But a little over an hour later, when he was going veer their path more westward, the winds pushed all the ash back towards the valley, revealing glittering autumn sunlight streaming in from the east. It was reaching noon. Scouting far ahead, Ratchis noticed a line of men hurrying eastward down the ridge away from Summit. It looked as if even the last bit of militia left behind were now evacuating in light of the new events in the valley.</p><p></p><p>“Nephthys, show mercy on those men,” the Friar said aloud, and then hurried back to report what he had seen to the others.</p><p></p><p>As the half-orc ranger led the group at a hurried pace past the abandoned village, the winds in the valley twisted the cloud of ash into a violent funnel of gray and black. The funnel raised way up into the sky and spread out across the horizon to cover the sun once again. It had gone from day to night, back to dreary day, and soon it felt like night again. Below they could see the area of the valley floor that had once been a steaming mist-covered swamp (3), and later a jagged rent spewing smoke and fire (4), explode upward, extending a cone of earth nearly twenty feet high about its perimeter. </p><p></p><p>“Is everything okay?” Bastian sent a thought to his familiar, N’kron, as the hawk flew way above in circles, and then suddenly began to dive to the eastern ridge edge.</p><p></p><p>“Danger! Danger!” the animal’s fear coating the back of Bastian’s throat. He instinctively crouched and looked around.</p><p></p><p>There were cries of alarm as stones and molten earth began to fall about them, setting trees and grass ablaze. Ratchis barely dodged a ball of flame that singed his natty locks as he leapt.</p><p> </p><p>Everyone began to run as the hail of fire and stone turned into another of ash that turned out to be cold and smell like… snow? </p><p></p><p>“Things are getting strange,” Roland said, and the earth shook. </p><p></p><p>They pushed on only stopping once to make sure every had drank enough water and to eat some hard tack.</p><p></p><p>“We are being scryed,” Martin announced as they got up to continue.</p><p></p><p>“At least we know it isn’t Richard,” Kazrack said, grimacing at the crimson watch-mage.</p><p></p><p>“It is Mozek!” Martin said, uncovering his eyes from having concentrated to see who it might be. He had seen the warty green-skinned gnome with his white-green hair and smoldering green eyes. He scratched the surface of a crystal ball with one of his thick black claws.</p><p></p><p>“Lehrothronar! Keeper of Secrets! Block this fiend from listening to our plans and portents!” Kazrack chanted, shaking his bag of runestones.</p><p></p><p>“Good work, Karack!” Martin said, when he saw the otherwise invisible sensor disappear.</p><p></p><p>“Who is Mozek again?” Roland asked, creeping up in panther form. (5)</p><p></p><p>“I will never get used to that,” Kazrack said, eyes opened in amazement at the talking cat.</p><p></p><p>“That is what you said about my changing at all,” Roland replied.</p><p></p><p>“Well, I haven’t gotten use to that either,” the dwarf retorted.</p><p></p><p>“He is half-demon and half-gnome,” Martin said answering the question.</p><p></p><p>“And he ate our friend,” (6) Ratchis said, coming over to hurry them along. The whole valley and ridge still rumbled and shook every thirty minutes or so.</p><p></p><p>-----------------------------------------</p><p></p><p> Evening had fallen and they were in sight of the strange formations of mica atop the ridge (7) when a heavy hail began to fall shooting out of the dark clouds hanging over Greenreed Valley. There were more cries of alarm and pain, and then another great explosion. The rocking of the earth left them all stunned as a column of flame shot out of the valley into the sky merging with the clouds and wind to become a funnel of flame, shooting streaks in all directions.</p><p></p><p>“Everyone to me!” Martin the Green cried over the din, holding his stone cube over his head. “I will protect us all in the cube.”</p><p></p><p>“Cube?” Cordell stepping over obediently, shield over his head.</p><p></p><p>“You have an example of <em>the Worfel Kraft</em>?” Richard the Red asked, with true amazement in his voice. “Wherever did you get it?”</p><p></p><p>“It was a gift from the Tree That Grows Backwards,” Martin replied, activating the setting to keep out everything as everyone crammed into one small spot.</p><p></p><p>“Kind of cramped in here,” Razzle complained, he was crouched down and pressed against Roland.</p><p></p><p>“The company could be worse,” Roland flirted and winked still in panther-form and flicked his tail on Razzle. The half-elf looked nervously from side to side.</p><p></p><p>“All of the elemental planes are breaking through at once,” Martin told the others as they witnessed winds rip the funnel of flame apart as quickly as it has come into being. Stone and flying flame battered the blue cubic field, but none came through.</p><p></p><p>But only a few moments later things had calmed down enough to allow Martin to deactivate t<em>the Wurfel Kraft</em>, and less than a half hour after that the valley was quiet again as a mist began to rise in it. </p><p></p><p>“Hey look at that!” Razzle said, pointing to the northwest; to the place called ‘the Amphitheatre’. There were over a dozen little fires burning all along top of it; scattered to and fro. “Those are those monks, right?”</p><p></p><p>“Is that where we have to go?” Richard asked Ratchis.</p><p></p><p>“No,” the half-orc replied.</p><p></p><p>“Is this the place then?” </p><p></p><p>“No.”</p><p></p><p>“Then why not go there now?” Richard asked.</p><p></p><p>“Because we have to wait for someone else,” Ratchis replied. </p><p></p><p>A rudimentary camp was set up and Bastian and Kazrack took the first watch, while Martin, affected by <em>Lacan’s Demise</em>, (8) studied his journals and notes by candlelight, preparing for the trip into Hurgun’s Maze. The others all slept, except Richard the Red, who faded from view once again.</p><p></p><p>Bastian called out mentally to N’kron, “What is it like up there?”</p><p></p><p>The hawk was flying high above the camp in wide circles taking in the night with its excellent vision.</p><p></p><p>“The air burns my eyes and my breath,” the hawk replied. “This place is foul. I thirst.”</p><p></p><p>Bastian summoned his familiar back down to him, and as the bird landed on his shoulder he sat down took off his helmet and called out in dwarven chanting. In a moment, the helmet was filled with fresh water and the hawk was perched on the side drinking its fill.</p><p></p><p>“What was that?” Kazrack asked the bearded man. “Something about ‘call to the water’ or something? It sounded like dwarven, but I am not sure I heard right. What was that?”</p><p></p><p>“It was dwarven,” Bastian replied in his always even tone. “Or at least the dialect of it spoken by the people of Thorad-Klen. It is what their shaman taught me when he showed me his ways.”</p><p></p><p>”To… To…” Kazrack stammered. “To summon demons? What is a shaman?”</p><p></p><p>“Well, not demons,” Bastian said. “Various powers…"</p><p></p><p>“This does not seem right,” the dwarf stood and sulked around the camp doing his watching with a heavy silence</p><p></p><p>“I am sorry you feel that way,” Bastian said.</p><p></p><p>Kazrack stormed over. “Why? Why would this barbarian warlock cast his foul spells in the tongue of my people?”</p><p></p><p>Bastian, who had stood as well to look down at the dwarf, shrugged. “The dwarves taught them long ago. I did not learn that many details of their history.”</p><p></p><p>“I must ask you that you never cast one of your spells on me,” Kazrack said, holding back anger. Martin the Green who had walked over shot the dwarf a look that said ‘keep your voice down’. “Even if it is to help me.”</p><p></p><p>Bastian shrugged again. “If that is what you want.” </p><p></p><p>Martin pulled Bastian away to talk more about magic, allowing Kazrack to go back to keeping watch.</p><p></p><p>“So you practice witchcraft?” Martin asked Bastian.</p><p></p><p>Bastian frowned. “I do not call it that.”</p><p></p><p>“But you do summon spirits and they imbue you with spells?” Martin asked. “And sometimes they ask things of you?”</p><p></p><p>Bastian nodded.</p><p></p><p>”Is that how you got to Topaline?” Martin asked.</p><p></p><p>Bastian nodded again. “There is a dao… Do you know what a dao is? (9) I can summon him and through him I was contacted by an intermediary, some power that I was able to negotiate with for transport to the demi-plane.”</p><p></p><p>“What kind of power?” </p><p></p><p>“I don’t know,” Bastian said. “It appeared as a pillar of flame in darkness that spoke.”</p><p></p><p>Martin sighed. “We may have need you to summon dao again,” he said. “It might have helpful knowledge about Hurgun’s Maze or the planar disturbances in the valley.”</p><p></p><p>Bastian nodded again.</p><p></p><p>Logan and Razzle were given the middle watch, and near the end of it Martin napped the two hours of sleep required of him to prepare spells once again.</p><p></p><p></p><p><span style="font-size: 15px">Anulem, the 28th of Keent – 565 H.E.</span></p><p></p><p>Martin snapped awake when his two hours were up. It was still dark.</p><p></p><p>“Martin! I went exploring and found some eggs shells!” Thomas was squealing with delight in his mind.</p><p></p><p>“Thank you, Thomas,” Martin thought back. He scratched his familiar under the head and sat up looking around in the darkness; feeling that just something wasn’t right.</p><p></p><p>And then it hit him. There was no one awake and watching! Martin the Green stood and looked around. Cordell and Razzle were gone and there was of course no sign of Richard. He woke the others and explained how their recent companions were gone, including Logan.</p><p></p><p>“Hmph! Logan?” Kazrack asked shaking off sleep and sounding disappointed.</p><p></p><p>“He was probably still mad at me for hitting him with that spell,” Roland suggested. (10)</p><p></p><p>“More than likely he was in Richard the Red’s employ all along,” Martin said. “Either that or Richard <em>charmed</em> him. He does that a lot.”</p><p></p><p>“But where did they go and for what reason?” asked Bastian in his usual calm demeanor. In a way, he seemed the most confused by the turn of events. “I thought Richard and his companions were your allies.”</p><p></p><p>“Uneasy allies at best,” Martin replied.</p><p></p><p>“We knew we were taking a chance by letting him come,” Ratchis said. “He probably figured out enough that he figures he can guess how to get into the Maze without us, and maybe he convinced Logan that he’d be less picky than we are about what kind of behavior he’d tolerate.”</p><p></p><p>There was a long silence and a cold pre-dawn wind blew up from the south bringing fresh air with it.</p><p></p><p>“The sun will be up soon,” Ratchis said. “Let’s move camp somewhere else, maybe that will throw them off, though I doubt it. We can then prepare our spells and then get ready for the first lights. From what we saw in the map room I don’t think we will be able to see the beam of light until the sun is fully above the horizon, but we should get into position, because we can’t be sure.”</p><p></p><p>“Actually, I don’t think the beam of light will appear until tomorrow at dawn,” Martin said.</p><p></p><p>“Today is the last day of fall,” Ratchis said.</p><p></p><p>“But tomorrow should be when the day is equal light and dark,” Martin said. “If I remember my astronomy class correctly.”</p><p></p><p>Ratchis was silent for a moment. “I think you’re right, but we’ll check today to be safe.”</p><p></p><p>The Keepers of the Gate began to march further westward, creeping past the open area where the mica riddled the ridge and making for some brush that marked the beginning of the light forested southwestern portion of it.</p><p></p><p>Light had just begun to appear in the east, and Ratchis was pointing out a small clearing on the southern edge of the ridge as a place to camp, when there was a great disturbance down there as just outside the valley.</p><p></p><p>They saw a blonde armored warrior hustling with a drawn sword, leaping over brush and making a beeline for the area of the base of the ridge where Roland and Ratchis had waited the many days before. (11)</p><p></p><p>“Gods damn that pig-f*cker and the grubber and the ponce and all of them pansies!” the warrior swore, his voice echoing against the ridge wall. He stopped and looked around. It was Gunthar.</p><p></p><p>It was then that Ratchis noticed the score of orcs breaking through the trees after the Neergaardian and the great dire boar that charged amid their ranks. </p><p></p><p>He pointed it out to the others.</p><p></p><p>“I wish we had had a chance to prepare our spells,” Martin complained.</p><p></p><p><strong>End of Session #87</strong></p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="el-remmen, post: 2824712, member: 11"] [b]Session #87 (part ii)[/b] [size=4]Teflem, the 27th of Keent – 565 H.E.[/size] “Oh! You’re here!” Richard the Red said with real delight as the Keepers of the Gate marched up the narrow hall into the pantry. Razzle was balancing a chair on two legs while he stood with on foot on the back rest and one on the seat. He was repeatedly drawing his rapier and performing some maneuver and then sheathing it again with impressive speed. Cordell looked up from where he was writing in a journal. “Bastian!” Richard cried when he saw the bearded warrior step out of the shadows of the hallway. “What a surprise! Five go in and six come out! How did this happen?” Roland looked from Richard to Bastian and his eyes narrowed. Martin the Green dropped his pack and then plopped into a chair exhaustedly. “You know each other?” Kazrack asked. “Richard was a frequent visitor to Thorad-Klen when I stayed with them,” Bastian said. “He was a friend of the chieftain and the shaman.” “Thorad-Klen? That sounds almost dwarven,” Kazrack said. “It is… Kind of…” Bastian said by way of explanation. (1) “What were you doing in Thorad-Klen?” Martin asked his fellow watch-mage. “It pays to know all kinds of people, Martin,” Richard winked. “How long were we gone?” Ratchis asked. “You weren’t gone all that long,” Richard said, scratching under the rings of his auburn beard. “How long?” asked Ratchis, who dropped his pack to the ground. “Little less than a day and a half,” Richard replied. The party let go a collective sigh. “I am more than a little curious about what exactly lays on the other side of the portal. Do enlighten us.” “Yes,” Cordell said, dipping his quill in a bottle of ink. “I will make note of it for the archives of the Church of Thoth.” “That’s nice,” Roland said, clucking his tongue. “But we can discuss it upstairs.” “That [I]paladin[/I] is still up there, dutifully fulfilling the promise he made to you,” Richard the Red said. “It is best we talk down here out of his ear shot. No need for him to know too much.” The Keepers of the Gate agreed and recounted a fast and loose version of the events in Topaline. “What do you think that skeletal sorcerer was?” Richard asked Martin. “I thought it might be a lich, but aside from its ability to teleport people away, its magical power seemed limited,” Martin said. “You should check the diadem you said you found on it and make it is not a phylactery,” Richard said. “The lich’s spirit might be housed there waiting for a chance possess someone.” Kazrack fetched the diadem from his pack and a quick [I]detect magic[/I] allayed their fears. “And Bastian, how did you get there? Did you take the aid of some fiend?” Richard asked with a wide smile. “Fiend? No. It was no fiend,” Bastian said with a straight face. (2) “Has there been any word from Norena?” Roland changed the subject. “No,” Richard replied, and Razzle shook his head sadly. The priest of Bast attempted a [I]sending[/I] to his fellow priest, but there was no response. ”We can’t waste any more time,” Ratchis said. “We need to go to the appointed spot on the ridge and wait for the proper time. These things aren’t exact.” “We need to find Norena,” Roland complained. “She has been gone six days and her companions do not seem the least bit upset.” “Norena is big girl,” Richard the Red said. “Don’t ever let Norena hear you call her big,” Razzle laughed. “So where are we going exactly?” Richard asked Ratchis. “You’ll know when we get there,” Ratchis said. “I am still not sure we should bring him,” Kazrack said. “You’re never going to trust me, are you?” Richard asked the Keepers of the Gate with a smile. “Why should we?” asked Ratchis. “Because I have always told you the truth,” Richard replied without pause. The Keepers of the Gate ascended into the temple proper, where the Company of the Impervious Ward was still camped. Heriot of the Ironstaff was conscious once again, and she shot dirty looks at Martin as the group made to leave. “We have kept our part of the agreement and will leave on the morrow,” said Sir Clerebold of Thoth. “I thought it was the day after tomorrow that you had agreed to leave,” Roland commented. Clerebold’s fair features grew red as he stood, showing more emotion than he had during the entire combat between the two groups a couple of days earlier. “Do you mock me?” “No, sir… No, he does not,” Martin the Green said, raising his hands to smooth things over. “Tomorrow will be fine. And it is my sincere hope that this situation does not leave you ill-favored by your order or your god.” “Either way, there is much to atone for,” Clerebold said, sitting back down. ---------------------------- Outside the winds whipped wildly, seemingly in all directs, wrapping cloaks around bodies and branches about trees. The winds swirled up all the ash that had fallen across the landscape obscuring vision to just under a dozen feet in any direction. Alternately covering their mouths and shielding their eyes the Keepers of the Gate, joined now by Richard the Red, Cordell of Thoth, and Razzle Greyish lined up and began to march south as best they could. Ratchis led the way, planning on taking a wide berth as possible around Summit. But a little over an hour later, when he was going veer their path more westward, the winds pushed all the ash back towards the valley, revealing glittering autumn sunlight streaming in from the east. It was reaching noon. Scouting far ahead, Ratchis noticed a line of men hurrying eastward down the ridge away from Summit. It looked as if even the last bit of militia left behind were now evacuating in light of the new events in the valley. “Nephthys, show mercy on those men,” the Friar said aloud, and then hurried back to report what he had seen to the others. As the half-orc ranger led the group at a hurried pace past the abandoned village, the winds in the valley twisted the cloud of ash into a violent funnel of gray and black. The funnel raised way up into the sky and spread out across the horizon to cover the sun once again. It had gone from day to night, back to dreary day, and soon it felt like night again. Below they could see the area of the valley floor that had once been a steaming mist-covered swamp (3), and later a jagged rent spewing smoke and fire (4), explode upward, extending a cone of earth nearly twenty feet high about its perimeter. “Is everything okay?” Bastian sent a thought to his familiar, N’kron, as the hawk flew way above in circles, and then suddenly began to dive to the eastern ridge edge. “Danger! Danger!” the animal’s fear coating the back of Bastian’s throat. He instinctively crouched and looked around. There were cries of alarm as stones and molten earth began to fall about them, setting trees and grass ablaze. Ratchis barely dodged a ball of flame that singed his natty locks as he leapt. Everyone began to run as the hail of fire and stone turned into another of ash that turned out to be cold and smell like… snow? “Things are getting strange,” Roland said, and the earth shook. They pushed on only stopping once to make sure every had drank enough water and to eat some hard tack. “We are being scryed,” Martin announced as they got up to continue. “At least we know it isn’t Richard,” Kazrack said, grimacing at the crimson watch-mage. “It is Mozek!” Martin said, uncovering his eyes from having concentrated to see who it might be. He had seen the warty green-skinned gnome with his white-green hair and smoldering green eyes. He scratched the surface of a crystal ball with one of his thick black claws. “Lehrothronar! Keeper of Secrets! Block this fiend from listening to our plans and portents!” Kazrack chanted, shaking his bag of runestones. “Good work, Karack!” Martin said, when he saw the otherwise invisible sensor disappear. “Who is Mozek again?” Roland asked, creeping up in panther form. (5) “I will never get used to that,” Kazrack said, eyes opened in amazement at the talking cat. “That is what you said about my changing at all,” Roland replied. “Well, I haven’t gotten use to that either,” the dwarf retorted. “He is half-demon and half-gnome,” Martin said answering the question. “And he ate our friend,” (6) Ratchis said, coming over to hurry them along. The whole valley and ridge still rumbled and shook every thirty minutes or so. ----------------------------------------- Evening had fallen and they were in sight of the strange formations of mica atop the ridge (7) when a heavy hail began to fall shooting out of the dark clouds hanging over Greenreed Valley. There were more cries of alarm and pain, and then another great explosion. The rocking of the earth left them all stunned as a column of flame shot out of the valley into the sky merging with the clouds and wind to become a funnel of flame, shooting streaks in all directions. “Everyone to me!” Martin the Green cried over the din, holding his stone cube over his head. “I will protect us all in the cube.” “Cube?” Cordell stepping over obediently, shield over his head. “You have an example of [I]the Worfel Kraft[/I]?” Richard the Red asked, with true amazement in his voice. “Wherever did you get it?” “It was a gift from the Tree That Grows Backwards,” Martin replied, activating the setting to keep out everything as everyone crammed into one small spot. “Kind of cramped in here,” Razzle complained, he was crouched down and pressed against Roland. “The company could be worse,” Roland flirted and winked still in panther-form and flicked his tail on Razzle. The half-elf looked nervously from side to side. “All of the elemental planes are breaking through at once,” Martin told the others as they witnessed winds rip the funnel of flame apart as quickly as it has come into being. Stone and flying flame battered the blue cubic field, but none came through. But only a few moments later things had calmed down enough to allow Martin to deactivate t[I]the Wurfel Kraft[/I], and less than a half hour after that the valley was quiet again as a mist began to rise in it. “Hey look at that!” Razzle said, pointing to the northwest; to the place called ‘the Amphitheatre’. There were over a dozen little fires burning all along top of it; scattered to and fro. “Those are those monks, right?” “Is that where we have to go?” Richard asked Ratchis. “No,” the half-orc replied. “Is this the place then?” “No.” “Then why not go there now?” Richard asked. “Because we have to wait for someone else,” Ratchis replied. A rudimentary camp was set up and Bastian and Kazrack took the first watch, while Martin, affected by [I]Lacan’s Demise[/I], (8) studied his journals and notes by candlelight, preparing for the trip into Hurgun’s Maze. The others all slept, except Richard the Red, who faded from view once again. Bastian called out mentally to N’kron, “What is it like up there?” The hawk was flying high above the camp in wide circles taking in the night with its excellent vision. “The air burns my eyes and my breath,” the hawk replied. “This place is foul. I thirst.” Bastian summoned his familiar back down to him, and as the bird landed on his shoulder he sat down took off his helmet and called out in dwarven chanting. In a moment, the helmet was filled with fresh water and the hawk was perched on the side drinking its fill. “What was that?” Kazrack asked the bearded man. “Something about ‘call to the water’ or something? It sounded like dwarven, but I am not sure I heard right. What was that?” “It was dwarven,” Bastian replied in his always even tone. “Or at least the dialect of it spoken by the people of Thorad-Klen. It is what their shaman taught me when he showed me his ways.” ”To… To…” Kazrack stammered. “To summon demons? What is a shaman?” “Well, not demons,” Bastian said. “Various powers…" “This does not seem right,” the dwarf stood and sulked around the camp doing his watching with a heavy silence “I am sorry you feel that way,” Bastian said. Kazrack stormed over. “Why? Why would this barbarian warlock cast his foul spells in the tongue of my people?” Bastian, who had stood as well to look down at the dwarf, shrugged. “The dwarves taught them long ago. I did not learn that many details of their history.” “I must ask you that you never cast one of your spells on me,” Kazrack said, holding back anger. Martin the Green who had walked over shot the dwarf a look that said ‘keep your voice down’. “Even if it is to help me.” Bastian shrugged again. “If that is what you want.” Martin pulled Bastian away to talk more about magic, allowing Kazrack to go back to keeping watch. “So you practice witchcraft?” Martin asked Bastian. Bastian frowned. “I do not call it that.” “But you do summon spirits and they imbue you with spells?” Martin asked. “And sometimes they ask things of you?” Bastian nodded. ”Is that how you got to Topaline?” Martin asked. Bastian nodded again. “There is a dao… Do you know what a dao is? (9) I can summon him and through him I was contacted by an intermediary, some power that I was able to negotiate with for transport to the demi-plane.” “What kind of power?” “I don’t know,” Bastian said. “It appeared as a pillar of flame in darkness that spoke.” Martin sighed. “We may have need you to summon dao again,” he said. “It might have helpful knowledge about Hurgun’s Maze or the planar disturbances in the valley.” Bastian nodded again. Logan and Razzle were given the middle watch, and near the end of it Martin napped the two hours of sleep required of him to prepare spells once again. [size=4]Anulem, the 28th of Keent – 565 H.E.[/size] Martin snapped awake when his two hours were up. It was still dark. “Martin! I went exploring and found some eggs shells!” Thomas was squealing with delight in his mind. “Thank you, Thomas,” Martin thought back. He scratched his familiar under the head and sat up looking around in the darkness; feeling that just something wasn’t right. And then it hit him. There was no one awake and watching! Martin the Green stood and looked around. Cordell and Razzle were gone and there was of course no sign of Richard. He woke the others and explained how their recent companions were gone, including Logan. “Hmph! Logan?” Kazrack asked shaking off sleep and sounding disappointed. “He was probably still mad at me for hitting him with that spell,” Roland suggested. (10) “More than likely he was in Richard the Red’s employ all along,” Martin said. “Either that or Richard [I]charmed[/I] him. He does that a lot.” “But where did they go and for what reason?” asked Bastian in his usual calm demeanor. In a way, he seemed the most confused by the turn of events. “I thought Richard and his companions were your allies.” “Uneasy allies at best,” Martin replied. “We knew we were taking a chance by letting him come,” Ratchis said. “He probably figured out enough that he figures he can guess how to get into the Maze without us, and maybe he convinced Logan that he’d be less picky than we are about what kind of behavior he’d tolerate.” There was a long silence and a cold pre-dawn wind blew up from the south bringing fresh air with it. “The sun will be up soon,” Ratchis said. “Let’s move camp somewhere else, maybe that will throw them off, though I doubt it. We can then prepare our spells and then get ready for the first lights. From what we saw in the map room I don’t think we will be able to see the beam of light until the sun is fully above the horizon, but we should get into position, because we can’t be sure.” “Actually, I don’t think the beam of light will appear until tomorrow at dawn,” Martin said. “Today is the last day of fall,” Ratchis said. “But tomorrow should be when the day is equal light and dark,” Martin said. “If I remember my astronomy class correctly.” Ratchis was silent for a moment. “I think you’re right, but we’ll check today to be safe.” The Keepers of the Gate began to march further westward, creeping past the open area where the mica riddled the ridge and making for some brush that marked the beginning of the light forested southwestern portion of it. Light had just begun to appear in the east, and Ratchis was pointing out a small clearing on the southern edge of the ridge as a place to camp, when there was a great disturbance down there as just outside the valley. They saw a blonde armored warrior hustling with a drawn sword, leaping over brush and making a beeline for the area of the base of the ridge where Roland and Ratchis had waited the many days before. (11) “Gods damn that pig-f*cker and the grubber and the ponce and all of them pansies!” the warrior swore, his voice echoing against the ridge wall. He stopped and looked around. It was Gunthar. It was then that Ratchis noticed the score of orcs breaking through the trees after the Neergaardian and the great dire boar that charged amid their ranks. He pointed it out to the others. “I wish we had had a chance to prepare our spells,” Martin complained. [b]End of Session #87[/b] [/QUOTE]
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"Out of the Frying Pan"- Book IV - Into the Fire [STORY HOUR COMPLETED - 12/25/06]
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