Piratecat's Updated Story Hour! (update 4/03 and 4/06)
- Thread starter Piratecat
- Start date
- Status
Malin Genie
First Post
KidCthulhu said:
I prefer dactylic anapestometer myself (I wonder if Piratecat knows he's a dactyl?
)Down through the Underdark
Go the Defenders while
Piratecat keeps up his
Half Mona-Lisa smile
Only the foolish would
Venture to guess what he
Has up his sleeve to sow
Discord and misery....
As the party go on
We're kept blind, like a bat;
What awaits? No-one knows
Save the wily old Cat
And he won't tell a soul
Till it's over and then
He will write his next verse
Dripping blood from his pen
The Forsaken One
Explorer
btw does anyone here have the ability and autorisation to provide me with a link or email containing the PrC of Nolin?
Last edited:
Eridanis
Bard 7/Mod (ret) 10/Mgr 3
This thread answers that question, too:The Forsaken One said:
http://enworld.org/showthread.php?threadid=4783
Last edited by a moderator:
Piratecat
Sesquipedalian
The group recovers from a worrisome evening. After sensing that someone is following the group, Galthia doubles back to try and surprise them. He’s virtually invisible as he creeps through the shadows, but it takes more than an hour’s careful observation before he even spots a shadow that might be someone watching them. By the time he can bring in more of the Defenders, the shape completely vanishes. A mindflayer? Maybe – to his nostrils, the air smells slightly like psi-active mucous - but if so, this illithid would be far stealthier and more cautious than any he had ever heard of.
Almost every step through the lightless caverns results in a faint crunch as beetle-like insects are crushed underfoot. The insects are everywhere, some of them as large as a small dog, and the creatures all scuttle efficiently along as if on urgent business elsewhere. The group passes old campsites, amazing stone sculptures, steep stairs, seemingly bottomless crevices, tall stalagmites, and pools of sulpherous water. Fungus and slime coat the walls, and strange chittering occasionally echoes from pitch-black side tunnels. Now and then, they meet cautious beetle hunters from Akin’s Throat, all of whom step aside and nod cautiously as the large armored party passes by. Walking along under the effect of darkvision is more than a little intimidating; Mara compares it to walking in a sixty foot bubble of light, where everything outside the light is completely invisible.
At a junction, Velendo pauses the group for a rest and a quick divination. “Left lies the Deepening Rift, where we think the ghouls are doing some ritual. Right lies the tunnels that lead to the gogglers.”
“The kuo-toa?” clarifies Nolin. “Fish guys? They worship a naked lobster-headed Goddess named Blibdoolpoolp. The problem with a Goddess like her is that you never know whether to sleep with her, or coat her in melted butter.”
Mara and Malachite frown, but Agar laughs. “You could do both!” Nolin gets a dreamy look on his face, and his stomach rumbles.
Velendo harrumphs and changes the subject with a weary, patient voice. “Right. I was going to say that we should make sure Calphas thinks we’re doing the right thing.” He sits down on a lichen-coated boulder to rest his tired feet, and focuses his faith into his shield. “Hey, Calphas!” he calls upwards into the darkness. “We’re pretty far underground, but I know you can hear me. Will going to the Goggler area prove useful in avoiding the catastrophe or breaking the spine of the White Kingdom?" His prayer spirals upwards.
Almost immediately he hears a quiet voice in his head, firm and decisive. “The Gogglers hold the strategic key, and knowledge of what has gone before -- but they too are divided. They play no part in the catastrophe. Go to the Gogglers, and reach the depths that much sooner. Go to the Rift, pass the guardians, and you save yourself much trouble later. Either way, I will be with you, chosen of Calphas.” Velendo blinks in surprise.
“Huh.”
“What?”
Malachite snorts as he rubs some rust off of Karthos’ sheath. “Probably something obscure and confusing. I’m telling you, you should have used...”
“Yes, yes, I know. ‘Weal or woe.’ But this time, the guidance was astonishingly direct.” He tells the group of the divination, and then raises his voice. “Thanks, up there! Much appreciated!” He looks back at the group and twists his lip in thought. “It sounded younger and more feminine than usual, but Calphas works in mysterious ways.”
Mara looks concerned. “Could someone have hijacked the divination?”
The old man shakes his head. “No. Calphas is too busy to answer everything himself. He has angels to take care of that sort of thing. Apparently, one of them is paying attention to me today.” The bullywug Burr-Lipp stares at Velendo suspiciously, no doubt thinking that there are some gods that you don’t want paying attention to you. Velendo doesn’t notice as he continues. “Basically, the kuo-toa are divided. My guess is that they’re having some sort of disagreement.”
Nolin looks up. “They’re in the middle of a civil war. Half of them favor the ghouls, half don’t, and they’re fighting about it.”
“How do you know that?” Nolin makes a vaguely obscene ‘drow female’ gesture, and Velendo nods sagely. “Ah. Right. So, we go to the kuo-toa or into this Rift past the guardians.”
“We’ll have to be on our guard,” states Stone Bear. “I doubt they left guardians that are friendly.”
“I guess that we’ll find out. So, to the Deepening Rift?”
The group agrees.
Late the next day, they arrive at the watchpost that normally guards the Deepening Rift from the nearby access tunnels. Except for the ubiquitous insects, it’s completely abandoned.
“Hello?” calls Tao. Only echoes answer her. “No one go in there. I want to check the ground.”
She pulls out an eyepiece, fits it into her eye, and swoons for a few seconds as she gets used to the vastly magnified vision that its magic grants her. Slowly, the divine agent examines the ground around the watchpost.
“Well, there were a number of goblins living here. I see signs of their food. It looks like several trolls entered and exited days ago, and the goblins simply disappeared. I don’t see any signs of a fight.” She bites her lip. “I did find this.” She holds up an empty caterpillar cocoon. “Don’t ask me why.”
Nolin runs his hand through his fiery hair. “I don’t like this. Maybe they just abandoned their post, but something is making me nervous.” He hauls out his goggles of hindsight, puts them on over his eyes, and begins watching what has happened in the spot during the last week. The magic replays the last week, vastly sped up. “Okay, there are four goblins here keeping watch. They come and go. Looks like.. whoa! They were on watch, and then they just disappeared behind the stone barricade. Now two trolls are entering the area with sacks. They’re leaving now, and the sacks are bulging and wiggling.”
“They put the goblins in the sacks?”
“No, they couldn’t have. Not enough room. Maybe they were shrunk or something. They left the area heading that way.” He points at the gate leading to the Deepening Rift. “Supposedly, the goblins blocked the entrance to the Rift off, and the ghouls reinforced it from the far side to keep everyone out. I suppose that they didn’t want guards here, either.”
“Come on, then.” Galthia springs to his feet. “The longer we wait, the more likely we are to suffer those vertigo attacks.”
Tao nods. “I know. They’re getting worse, too. Let’s go.”
Fifteen minutes of stalking down narrow tunnels later, Galthia and Priggle emerge into a large cavern. It is multi-leveled and supported by stone pillars. The sound of dripping water can be heard, and an ominous “splut, splut” echoes through the area. The two scouts exchange worried glances as they separate and creep eastwards, deeper into the cave.
“There’s an huge pool of green slime in here,” warns Galthia through the mental link. “Lots of monster-sign, too. This place is occupied. I can’t hear anyone, though.”
Priggle agrees. “I found a side passage to the north, and I can hear faint movement from down there. I don’t see anyone else. The stream runs downhill and gathers in a pool at the eastern end of the cave. Big ceiling – over sixty feet high. Ledges along the walls. Lots of boulders down here, too. I think that the boulders cover the passageway to the actual Deepening Rift, the one that we know has been blocked.”
Slowly, all of the Defenders of Daybreak make their way into the room. They move cautiously and quietly, all of their senses alert, spreading out and trying not to group excessively. The dwarven troops maneuver in perfect formation, spreading out and covering different shadows with their crossbows, expecting the worse. The advance is slow, precise and professional.
Malachite speaks across the link. “Let’s get rid of that pool of green slime first. I don’t like that one bit.”
Much to his chagrin, Nolin finds himself agreeing. “Got it.” He moves near the pool and calls on the power of the phoenix. Rides the Sun.. help me? Flame kindles in his heart, dancing, and the heat races upwards into both of his hands. Instantly, a cone of fire springs forth to illuminate the side of the cavern. Slime boils and steams as the magical flame begins to sear it away. Nolin glances over at his friends with a reassuring grin on his face, and suddenly pauses in confusion.
Odd. Tao isn’t looking herself today. She’s… got warts? And bulgy eyes? He glances around. Mara! And Stone Bear! And Splinder! And.. oh crap.. and… In the blink of an eye, he watches more than half of the people in the room transform into squat, ugly toads. Even Burr-Lipp. They shrink, warp and re-shape. “We’ve got an enemy!”
“Croak?” asks the toad that had been Splinder, hopping in agitation. “Croak!” Through the mindlink, his agitation is evident as he tries to regain his bearings. Then even more members of the group suddenly twitch and writhe into a new amphibious appearance, and a cruel high-pitched giggle fills the room.
“Too easy!” The ghoulish drow elf stands on a ledge fifty feet up on the western edge of the cavern, above the tunnel that they entered by. His mocking voice is filled with scorn. “Change! All of you, change!”
To be continued…
Almost every step through the lightless caverns results in a faint crunch as beetle-like insects are crushed underfoot. The insects are everywhere, some of them as large as a small dog, and the creatures all scuttle efficiently along as if on urgent business elsewhere. The group passes old campsites, amazing stone sculptures, steep stairs, seemingly bottomless crevices, tall stalagmites, and pools of sulpherous water. Fungus and slime coat the walls, and strange chittering occasionally echoes from pitch-black side tunnels. Now and then, they meet cautious beetle hunters from Akin’s Throat, all of whom step aside and nod cautiously as the large armored party passes by. Walking along under the effect of darkvision is more than a little intimidating; Mara compares it to walking in a sixty foot bubble of light, where everything outside the light is completely invisible.
At a junction, Velendo pauses the group for a rest and a quick divination. “Left lies the Deepening Rift, where we think the ghouls are doing some ritual. Right lies the tunnels that lead to the gogglers.”
“The kuo-toa?” clarifies Nolin. “Fish guys? They worship a naked lobster-headed Goddess named Blibdoolpoolp. The problem with a Goddess like her is that you never know whether to sleep with her, or coat her in melted butter.”
Mara and Malachite frown, but Agar laughs. “You could do both!” Nolin gets a dreamy look on his face, and his stomach rumbles.
Velendo harrumphs and changes the subject with a weary, patient voice. “Right. I was going to say that we should make sure Calphas thinks we’re doing the right thing.” He sits down on a lichen-coated boulder to rest his tired feet, and focuses his faith into his shield. “Hey, Calphas!” he calls upwards into the darkness. “We’re pretty far underground, but I know you can hear me. Will going to the Goggler area prove useful in avoiding the catastrophe or breaking the spine of the White Kingdom?" His prayer spirals upwards.
Almost immediately he hears a quiet voice in his head, firm and decisive. “The Gogglers hold the strategic key, and knowledge of what has gone before -- but they too are divided. They play no part in the catastrophe. Go to the Gogglers, and reach the depths that much sooner. Go to the Rift, pass the guardians, and you save yourself much trouble later. Either way, I will be with you, chosen of Calphas.” Velendo blinks in surprise.
“Huh.”
“What?”
Malachite snorts as he rubs some rust off of Karthos’ sheath. “Probably something obscure and confusing. I’m telling you, you should have used...”
“Yes, yes, I know. ‘Weal or woe.’ But this time, the guidance was astonishingly direct.” He tells the group of the divination, and then raises his voice. “Thanks, up there! Much appreciated!” He looks back at the group and twists his lip in thought. “It sounded younger and more feminine than usual, but Calphas works in mysterious ways.”
Mara looks concerned. “Could someone have hijacked the divination?”
The old man shakes his head. “No. Calphas is too busy to answer everything himself. He has angels to take care of that sort of thing. Apparently, one of them is paying attention to me today.” The bullywug Burr-Lipp stares at Velendo suspiciously, no doubt thinking that there are some gods that you don’t want paying attention to you. Velendo doesn’t notice as he continues. “Basically, the kuo-toa are divided. My guess is that they’re having some sort of disagreement.”
Nolin looks up. “They’re in the middle of a civil war. Half of them favor the ghouls, half don’t, and they’re fighting about it.”
“How do you know that?” Nolin makes a vaguely obscene ‘drow female’ gesture, and Velendo nods sagely. “Ah. Right. So, we go to the kuo-toa or into this Rift past the guardians.”
“We’ll have to be on our guard,” states Stone Bear. “I doubt they left guardians that are friendly.”
“I guess that we’ll find out. So, to the Deepening Rift?”
The group agrees.
Late the next day, they arrive at the watchpost that normally guards the Deepening Rift from the nearby access tunnels. Except for the ubiquitous insects, it’s completely abandoned.
“Hello?” calls Tao. Only echoes answer her. “No one go in there. I want to check the ground.”
She pulls out an eyepiece, fits it into her eye, and swoons for a few seconds as she gets used to the vastly magnified vision that its magic grants her. Slowly, the divine agent examines the ground around the watchpost.
“Well, there were a number of goblins living here. I see signs of their food. It looks like several trolls entered and exited days ago, and the goblins simply disappeared. I don’t see any signs of a fight.” She bites her lip. “I did find this.” She holds up an empty caterpillar cocoon. “Don’t ask me why.”
Nolin runs his hand through his fiery hair. “I don’t like this. Maybe they just abandoned their post, but something is making me nervous.” He hauls out his goggles of hindsight, puts them on over his eyes, and begins watching what has happened in the spot during the last week. The magic replays the last week, vastly sped up. “Okay, there are four goblins here keeping watch. They come and go. Looks like.. whoa! They were on watch, and then they just disappeared behind the stone barricade. Now two trolls are entering the area with sacks. They’re leaving now, and the sacks are bulging and wiggling.”
“They put the goblins in the sacks?”
“No, they couldn’t have. Not enough room. Maybe they were shrunk or something. They left the area heading that way.” He points at the gate leading to the Deepening Rift. “Supposedly, the goblins blocked the entrance to the Rift off, and the ghouls reinforced it from the far side to keep everyone out. I suppose that they didn’t want guards here, either.”
“Come on, then.” Galthia springs to his feet. “The longer we wait, the more likely we are to suffer those vertigo attacks.”
Tao nods. “I know. They’re getting worse, too. Let’s go.”
Fifteen minutes of stalking down narrow tunnels later, Galthia and Priggle emerge into a large cavern. It is multi-leveled and supported by stone pillars. The sound of dripping water can be heard, and an ominous “splut, splut” echoes through the area. The two scouts exchange worried glances as they separate and creep eastwards, deeper into the cave.
“There’s an huge pool of green slime in here,” warns Galthia through the mental link. “Lots of monster-sign, too. This place is occupied. I can’t hear anyone, though.”
Priggle agrees. “I found a side passage to the north, and I can hear faint movement from down there. I don’t see anyone else. The stream runs downhill and gathers in a pool at the eastern end of the cave. Big ceiling – over sixty feet high. Ledges along the walls. Lots of boulders down here, too. I think that the boulders cover the passageway to the actual Deepening Rift, the one that we know has been blocked.”
Slowly, all of the Defenders of Daybreak make their way into the room. They move cautiously and quietly, all of their senses alert, spreading out and trying not to group excessively. The dwarven troops maneuver in perfect formation, spreading out and covering different shadows with their crossbows, expecting the worse. The advance is slow, precise and professional.
Malachite speaks across the link. “Let’s get rid of that pool of green slime first. I don’t like that one bit.”
Much to his chagrin, Nolin finds himself agreeing. “Got it.” He moves near the pool and calls on the power of the phoenix. Rides the Sun.. help me? Flame kindles in his heart, dancing, and the heat races upwards into both of his hands. Instantly, a cone of fire springs forth to illuminate the side of the cavern. Slime boils and steams as the magical flame begins to sear it away. Nolin glances over at his friends with a reassuring grin on his face, and suddenly pauses in confusion.
Odd. Tao isn’t looking herself today. She’s… got warts? And bulgy eyes? He glances around. Mara! And Stone Bear! And Splinder! And.. oh crap.. and… In the blink of an eye, he watches more than half of the people in the room transform into squat, ugly toads. Even Burr-Lipp. They shrink, warp and re-shape. “We’ve got an enemy!”
“Croak?” asks the toad that had been Splinder, hopping in agitation. “Croak!” Through the mindlink, his agitation is evident as he tries to regain his bearings. Then even more members of the group suddenly twitch and writhe into a new amphibious appearance, and a cruel high-pitched giggle fills the room.
“Too easy!” The ghoulish drow elf stands on a ledge fifty feet up on the western edge of the cavern, above the tunnel that they entered by. His mocking voice is filled with scorn. “Change! All of you, change!”
To be continued…
Last edited:
Piratecat
Sesquipedalian
Whee, patented Excel maps! I printed that off at one square = 1" = 5', and we used it as a battlemap. The group came in from the left. The green pool to the south is the green slime. The pale gray lines are 5' drops in the cave's slope, the solid gray shapes are natural pillars, and the brown shapes are loose boulders.
The yellow areas on each end marked off by brown lines are.. well, you'll see. From the PCs' perspective, they look like solid cliff face.
The yellow areas on each end marked off by brown lines are.. well, you'll see. From the PCs' perspective, they look like solid cliff face.
Piratecat
Sesquipedalian
“What mouth-breathing simpletons. No surprise, I suppose, but it’s always disappointing when one’s enemies fall into your trap so easily.” Nulloc Toadbringer crouches in the darkness of his hidden chamber, staring with sensitive eyes down into the dimly lit cavern. He has been thoroughly briefed by his lady love, so he knows what the sunsuckers are capable of. “So predictable,” he laments quietly to his darlings in the cramped cages behind him.
“Croaaak?”
“You see, they are conditioned to fighting undead, my little sweetlings. It will be no surprise when I out-think them and out-maneuver them with such ease.”
Of course, that’s no surprise. Nulloc is well aware that he can out-think anybody.
The upworlders’ approach is obvious and loud, with no conversation but plenty of clanking. The detection spells pick them up far down the tunnel, giving Nulloc plenty of time to prepare. First he pulls out his disguise kit and makes himself look like a ghoul. Not perfectly, of course, but he intends to be using illusions, height and darkness to his advantage; even with true seeing he should reasonably appear to undead, and doubtless these “heroes” will be so used to trusting their magic that they won’t bother to actually think. The ghoul disguise should distract their clerics and holy warriors long enough to waste a few turning attempts. Ha! Lloth’s swollen abdomen, but he was clever! He reaches behind to pat a toad, reassuring himself, then goes back to finishing his disguise.
Once the disguise is acceptable, Nulloc winks at a toad, reluctantly puts down his mithral-chased mirror, and hisses a few commands to his useless lackeys in the cave below. He greedily drinks a potion of liquid glory, and laughs as his personal magnetism increase to inhuman levels. Then he systematically digs into his belt pouches.
First a sprinkle of nondetection dust in a semi-circle on the ledge in front of him, scattered just in front of the illusory wall that hides his niche fifty feet up the eastern cavern wall. This way, when the invaders detect magic or evil, the illusory wall won’t be revealed. Then a second scattering of gray dust of silence. Now there is a sound barrier blocking him from the cavern; he can cast or even scream behind it, and no one on the other side will be able to hear him. Nulloc giggles to himself in self-satisfied anticipation, pausing only to dodge back into the small crevice and stroke the warty backs of several captive toads.
“Soon,” he croons. “You’ll have more friends.”
As he heads back to the hidden ledge, Nulloc’s heart thrums in his chest and his long fingers flex in sweaty anticipation. Incandescent with the magical power issuing from his arcane staff of the rising spell, his mind whirls with battle strategies and contingency plans. Nulloc is a drow elf planning an ambush; like a fish in the sea, he is in his element, and he glories in the feeling. He wonders briefly where that homicidal pest Quelm has gotten himself to, then decides that it’s better that he’s not on duty; this way, the victory will all be Nulloc’s, as will the glory. And the toads.
Oh, here comes the first one! And more, and more. A lizard and a horse? How fun.
Now, while they look about, time for the preparatory spells. Mage armor and fly are already active, of course. First haste, with the inevitable rush of adrenaline. Then expeditious retreat and jump; Nulloc’s legs bend and twist as the magic takes hold. Off go the boots as spider climb is cast, and then spectral hand. Nulloc flexes his spectral fingers, and his white teeth gleam in the darkness. Now, what next? See invisibility and true seeing, of course, finishing with the piece d’resistance, project image. Nulloc places the projected image safely behind a second illusory wall 50’ up on the opposite wall of the cavern, completely out of sight.
Ready? Yes, he decides, although they aren’t in ideal formation. Start… now.
From behind his sound barrier and illusory wall, Nulloc rhythmically chants the magical syllables of a chained polymorph other. He then uses his haste to cast the same spell a second time. Each should affect fifteen targets! Nulloc feels the staff bolstering his own magics, making the spells almost irrestible, and is shudders with pleasure as he feels the transmutation magics taking effect below. Glancing over the ledge, he’s shocked to see that many of the sunsuckers resist the magic. How dare they!
Well, fine. The upworlders are still unbalanced and confused, trying to find a target, but more than half have changed into large white toads. They want a target? He’ll give them one. On the far side of the cavern, Nulloc’s projected image steps through an illusory wall out onto the stone balcony. It’s still out of vision range for anyone using magical darkvision, but Nulloc speaks through it, giving in to his natural urge to gloat. Nulloc mouths the words from his hidden nook on the eastern edge of the cave, and they echo loudly from the illusory image to the west.
“Too easy! Change! All of you, change!” Emerald light bursts from the male paladin, clearly a positive energy burst. Nulloc cackles with laughter. “Hah! I knew you would do that. But I’m immune, idiot! You are a dullard who can’t recognize the truth when it hits you in the face. Like.. this?”
Safe in his hiding place, Nulloc casts a quickened true strike. He follows with a chained enervation, targeting the male holy warrior as his primary target. The black ray races from the projected image to strike the human squarely in the chest; the black radiance buckles his knees before fracturing off into fourteen secondary rays. With his hasted action, Nulloc casts a third chained polymorph that strikes the weakened paladin and bounces into more than a dozen allies. Change, weaklings! Submit! Change! Change! Change!
Ah. Much better.
To be continued…
“Croaaak?”
“You see, they are conditioned to fighting undead, my little sweetlings. It will be no surprise when I out-think them and out-maneuver them with such ease.”
Of course, that’s no surprise. Nulloc is well aware that he can out-think anybody.
The upworlders’ approach is obvious and loud, with no conversation but plenty of clanking. The detection spells pick them up far down the tunnel, giving Nulloc plenty of time to prepare. First he pulls out his disguise kit and makes himself look like a ghoul. Not perfectly, of course, but he intends to be using illusions, height and darkness to his advantage; even with true seeing he should reasonably appear to undead, and doubtless these “heroes” will be so used to trusting their magic that they won’t bother to actually think. The ghoul disguise should distract their clerics and holy warriors long enough to waste a few turning attempts. Ha! Lloth’s swollen abdomen, but he was clever! He reaches behind to pat a toad, reassuring himself, then goes back to finishing his disguise.
Once the disguise is acceptable, Nulloc winks at a toad, reluctantly puts down his mithral-chased mirror, and hisses a few commands to his useless lackeys in the cave below. He greedily drinks a potion of liquid glory, and laughs as his personal magnetism increase to inhuman levels. Then he systematically digs into his belt pouches.
First a sprinkle of nondetection dust in a semi-circle on the ledge in front of him, scattered just in front of the illusory wall that hides his niche fifty feet up the eastern cavern wall. This way, when the invaders detect magic or evil, the illusory wall won’t be revealed. Then a second scattering of gray dust of silence. Now there is a sound barrier blocking him from the cavern; he can cast or even scream behind it, and no one on the other side will be able to hear him. Nulloc giggles to himself in self-satisfied anticipation, pausing only to dodge back into the small crevice and stroke the warty backs of several captive toads.
“Soon,” he croons. “You’ll have more friends.”
As he heads back to the hidden ledge, Nulloc’s heart thrums in his chest and his long fingers flex in sweaty anticipation. Incandescent with the magical power issuing from his arcane staff of the rising spell, his mind whirls with battle strategies and contingency plans. Nulloc is a drow elf planning an ambush; like a fish in the sea, he is in his element, and he glories in the feeling. He wonders briefly where that homicidal pest Quelm has gotten himself to, then decides that it’s better that he’s not on duty; this way, the victory will all be Nulloc’s, as will the glory. And the toads.
Oh, here comes the first one! And more, and more. A lizard and a horse? How fun.
Now, while they look about, time for the preparatory spells. Mage armor and fly are already active, of course. First haste, with the inevitable rush of adrenaline. Then expeditious retreat and jump; Nulloc’s legs bend and twist as the magic takes hold. Off go the boots as spider climb is cast, and then spectral hand. Nulloc flexes his spectral fingers, and his white teeth gleam in the darkness. Now, what next? See invisibility and true seeing, of course, finishing with the piece d’resistance, project image. Nulloc places the projected image safely behind a second illusory wall 50’ up on the opposite wall of the cavern, completely out of sight.
Ready? Yes, he decides, although they aren’t in ideal formation. Start… now.
From behind his sound barrier and illusory wall, Nulloc rhythmically chants the magical syllables of a chained polymorph other. He then uses his haste to cast the same spell a second time. Each should affect fifteen targets! Nulloc feels the staff bolstering his own magics, making the spells almost irrestible, and is shudders with pleasure as he feels the transmutation magics taking effect below. Glancing over the ledge, he’s shocked to see that many of the sunsuckers resist the magic. How dare they!
Well, fine. The upworlders are still unbalanced and confused, trying to find a target, but more than half have changed into large white toads. They want a target? He’ll give them one. On the far side of the cavern, Nulloc’s projected image steps through an illusory wall out onto the stone balcony. It’s still out of vision range for anyone using magical darkvision, but Nulloc speaks through it, giving in to his natural urge to gloat. Nulloc mouths the words from his hidden nook on the eastern edge of the cave, and they echo loudly from the illusory image to the west.
“Too easy! Change! All of you, change!” Emerald light bursts from the male paladin, clearly a positive energy burst. Nulloc cackles with laughter. “Hah! I knew you would do that. But I’m immune, idiot! You are a dullard who can’t recognize the truth when it hits you in the face. Like.. this?”
Safe in his hiding place, Nulloc casts a quickened true strike. He follows with a chained enervation, targeting the male holy warrior as his primary target. The black ray races from the projected image to strike the human squarely in the chest; the black radiance buckles his knees before fracturing off into fourteen secondary rays. With his hasted action, Nulloc casts a third chained polymorph that strikes the weakened paladin and bounces into more than a dozen allies. Change, weaklings! Submit! Change! Change! Change!
Ah. Much better.
To be continued…
Last edited:
- Status
Similar Threads
