Stone that was crafted never to break shatters on the tile floor of the vault.
Conscious of the undead beholders’ anti-magic beams still playing across the outside of the vault’s crumbling door, the Defenders let loose with a barrage of non-magical attacks against the half-seen undead monster. Arrows and slingstones bounce and skitter as they strike the creature’s face and the wall that is mostly covering it.
“Sheesh, I haven’t used my short bow in years,” grumbles Nolin as his arrow misses and snaps on the hard stone. He fits another arrow to the bowstring and lets fly, this time arcing it right into the narrow hole.
“Then why do you still carry it?”asks Agar, perched on a writing desk and readying a spell.
‘Habit?”
The monster reappears at the small opening, several arrow shafts now sticking out of it. An unnaturally distended arm slinks through, buries its claws into solid stone, and pulls. A shield-sized chunk of stone is pulled free from the thick door, and the monsters’ smell rolls into the room. They have the odor of a week-old infection, gassy and sick. With Nolin’s carefully placed silence spell nullified by the beholders’ anti-magic, the monster can also be heard making a gurgling screech of excitement. More arrows tear into it as it strains, and a huge chunk of the vault door shatters into small segments that clatter to the floor. The vault has been breached.
Three of the undead constructs push their way through the gap in the vault door. The creatures at first seem to be bizarre flesh golems, for each limb is created from the matching limbs of medium and small sized humans, tattooed with unholy sigils. Thus, its thin, elongated arms and legs are comprised of several arms cunningly molded together. The overall effect is that of a tall and emaciated corpse, with grotesquely long limbs and body, topped by a grinning head that seems small by comparison. Behind them the undead beholders’ central eyes close, and the undead golems are suddenly infused with negative energy that leaves them enveloped in a field of shimmering purplish-black. They stride forward with unnatural speed.
From somewhere behind a rock, Priggle moans in dismay.
Velendo’s first action is to divide the battlefield. He places a mirrored wall of force along the inside of the vault, separating three of the four golems from their beholder support outside. “I’ll keep those things out of our hair!” he shouts. “Lets deal with these first!”
And the Defenders do.
Nolin drops his bow and starts by hasting his allies and slowing his enemies. Galthia leaps forward to attack, accompanied by the other front line fighters such as Mara, Tao, Splinder the dwarf, and even Priggle. Agar launches two attack spells with unclear success. “Careful, guys,” he yells. “They’re probably protected against most spells.”
“And against positive energy?” asks Sir Malachite. He concentrates from where he’s standing atop the raised floor, and emerald light flows out from him. All three creatures scream hoarsely, even though their own radiance seems to counter the effect of the brilliance. In a frenzied response, two of them reach out to Galthia. Their claws try to rend and tear, and the monk nimbly twists himself mostly out of the way. Only one claw gets through. When it does, though, Galthia can feel it catch on a piece of his very soul, as the monster tries to tear his life essence away from his body. Galthia squints his eyes and resists, and the monster’s claw comes away with only flesh. It puts the chunk of Galthia’s belly to its thin and dessicated lips but quickly spits the flesh out, since it doesn’t contain the life energy that it truly craves.
Instead of attacking Galthia, the third monster braces itself and concentrates. Its aura of sickening darkness bulges, squirms, and bursts outwards like an explosion of pus from a boil.
Time slows. For just an instant, almost everyone in the room gets a horrifying taste of what it must feel like to be locked into hellish undeath. Then the purplish-black radiance fades, leaving almost everyone shaking and injured from the negative energy. Only Galthia managed to avoid the energy altogether, and the monsters that were already injured now clearly look healed..
“Oh, great,” Tao retorts as she whirls her two swords in front of her in a deadly pattern. “This thing is like the anti-Malachite. Only Malachite’s energy bursts don’t heal us. Unfair!” Her joke sounds slightly strained as the undead back away, presenting a difficult target for anyone who doesn’t have the same 10’ reach that they do. Braving the attacks of opportunity that superior reach brings, the heroes press forwards towards the monsters, and together they manage to destroy one of the three by synchronizing their attacks in a beautiful display of combat precision. Both of the remaining creatures trigger their ownnegative energy bursts, and the Defenders reel back with rotting wounds caused by the negative energy. Nolin’s healing circle undoes part of the damage, though, and no one drops as they try to gather their wits.
Agar finally gets frustrated with his attempts to break through their spell resistance. "I wish," his voice reverberates around the room as magic swirls around him, "that these monsters were more vulnerable to m- err, to OUR spells!" The limited wish takes effect, and the monsters shudder as their ability to resist magic decreases.
Over by the vault door, Velendo’s mirrored wall of force suddenly shudders and vanishes like billowing mist. Just outside the vault, one of the swollen and bloated beholders grins widely as its rotten teeth reflect torchlight. The fourth golem standing next to it also smiles, its glowing yellow eyes those of Kellha – err, the Puppeteer. The creature’s mouth moves at it strides boldly into the vault, but Nolin’s silence spell stops Velendo from hearing what the undead has to say. “Crap!” exclaims Velendo. “Anti-magic shouldn’t have worked on that wall; those things must still have disintegrate!” Before any more eye rays penetrate the vault, Velendo calls upon his most powerful magics, and a sovereign wall slams down across the entire front wall of the vault which traps the golem inside and the beholders outside. “There,” he growls at the beholders who clearly can’t hear him, “disintegrate that, you bastards.” The yellow light fades from the eyes of the trapped golem as the Puppeteer makes a strategic retreat from his undead lackey, and the creature immediately responds by unleashing another burst of negative energy. Across the room several people fall back to heal, realizing that one more blast will probably kill them. The others use spells and swords to attack, cutting down the second golem and starting on the third.
"Not bad," remarks Mara. "Two down, and Malachite made the final stroke against both of them."
"Huh," grunts Splinder as he swings his axe. "Who says we can't learn from our mistakes?" Then Velendo turns undead, and one of the two remaining creatures panics. It runs directly away from Velendo, moving at unnatural speed towards the back of the room. Without a pause, it leaps into one of the seven portals, and is gone.
"Uh.. guys?" asks Tao, concerned.
Agar chuckles as he digs through his spell component pouch. "That leads to the positive material plane, the plane of pure life energy. I don't think we have to worry about it coming back."
The one remaining monster is strong, but its ability to devour life energy doesn't help it if it can't reach flesh. It isn’t long before the badly injured Defenders stand amidst the rotting remains of three undead golems. Papers and tablets lay scattered across the tile floor of the vault room, but no one is dead, and the enemy’s force has been reduced by four deadly constructs. “Do we drop the wall and go after the beholders?” agonizes Velendo. “I’m not sure if we can take them or not.” Just in case, he drops a mass heal, and the seeping wounds caused by the negative energy quickly vanish.
Tao frowns from beneath the visor of her clairvoyance helm. “They’re moving away from the sovereign wall,” she reports. “Damn it, one of them has all eleven eyes glowing yellow! The Puppeteer must be inside of it.” Everyone looks at one another.
Suddenly, Malachite hears a voice inside of his mind. “ That was very rude, my friend. I thought you people had more social graces than that! My adjutants come to chat with you, and you… you summarily attack. Tsk. When you leave the vault, I hope you’ll be willing to finally act like adults. We really do have quite a bit in common. In any event, I have my consolation prize, so the trip hasn’t been an entire waste. See you soon, I hope!”
“It’s the Puppeteer,” growls Malachite with hatred in his voice. “He just communicated with me telepathically.” The Hunter of the Dead repeats the mental message.
“Not a very interesting response,” he hears in his mind again. “I’d expected better. I’ll be waiting.” Malachite blanches.
“Indeed.” He listens internally for a few seconds, then turns back to his friends. “I think he’s gone now, but he heard what I just told you. It must have been like a sending.”
Agar raises his eyebrows. “Really? With that many words? That’s a new spell!” The halfling examines Malachite, but doesn’t see any new magical auras on him. “I think it’s over, now.”
Mara frowns as she looks around. “Say, what did he mean by ‘consolation prize’?” Velendo’s and Nolin’s faces fall simultaneously as they guess, just as Tao speaks up, still lost in her ongoing clairvoyance.
“Guys?” Her voice sounds strained. “Remember the dragon? The good news is that it’s still dead. The bad news is that it just shambled away, following those beholders.”
To be continued…
