Rel's Faded Glory III: Glory Reborn (FINAL UPDATE 6/22 - SHE'S DONE, BABY!!)
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Rel
Liquid Awesome
The Foundry was deathly quiet and biting cold but it was the smell that first caught their attention. The reek of death permeated the place and there was little question that it emanated from the long rail-tunnel that led to The City of Endless Summer.
Albius had mace and shield in hand in an instant and strode toward the tunnel entrance. “The dead cry out for justice!”
Marius shot a sidelong glance at Marcus, “You’d better reign in the Torchbearer there before he gets himself killed.”
Marcus nodded, “Wait, Albius. Give us a moment as the others finish their preparations.” Marcus wore the mantle of command uneasily. It had been years since he had given orders among the Legions and he was not used to being responsible for the actions of others.
Lazarius and Speaks were conferring. “The restless dead killed in that abattoir may be loose in the city,” said Speaks. “We’d best be ready with means to drive them back if we’re to win our way past them.” The Wizard agreed and they set forth with Marius and Marcus in the lead followed closely by Cathal. The others trailed behind with the giant porcine form of Brutus bringing up the rear.
As they entered the tunnel, Marcus stepped close to Albius and gripped him by the arm. “Listen Brother, you recall the tales I’ve told you of this place? Of Hell and the Watcher and the thousands slaughtered here? Remember them well and do not charge in without my leave. Understood?” The youth nodded. Marcus hoped that he meant it.
The stench became almost palpably dense as they went forward. They soon resorted to wetting cloths with wine and tying them across their faces. A couple of hours into the journey, they heard a faint shuffling sound from ahead and the faces of the dead loomed into the edges of their torchlight.
Marius assumed a fencing stance and held forth his rapier but did not run forward to meet the undead. Marcus never stopped walking forward and drew to within a few paces of the lurching zombies. Holding forth his Shield bearing the symbol of St. Cuthbert, he cried out, “Let go your hold on this world in the name of my Lord, St. Cuthbert!” A wave of silver energy ripped through the front ranks and disintegrated a dozen of the lurching undead.
Albius found himself confronted with the first walking dead he had ever seen and discovered that obeying Brother Marcus’ order not to charge in was easy. He gathered himself and closed ranks with the others.
Speaks and Brutus moved forward, Speaks brandishing Long Tooth, his longspear gifted to him by Urdrax. They were ready to crush any of the zombies that came within their reach.
Cathal took a less cautious approach and dashed forward into the midst of the undead. The crackling blade he bore lashed out at the nearest zombie and sliced it cleanly in half, the momentum of the attack carrying through and felling another with the same stroke. And the battle was joined.
Marcus and Marius quickly moved to keep the zombies from flanking Cathal and they formed a front line of resistance. Speaks and Brutus moved in behind them to assure that aid was at the ready should they need it. Lazarius hung back and kept a watch behind them. This was exactly the sort of treacherous situation that the Blue Demoness would attempt to exploit and he was wary of being caught unawares.
Albius followed the lead of Brother Marcus and came forward brandishing his holy symbol. Another surge of holy energy blasted through the front ranks of the undead leaving dust in its wake. The boy smiled and moved forward ready to fight at the side of his leader.
Cathal and Marius stepped up through the swirling dust of the dead to meet the next set of foes. Their blades sank into rotting organs but could not drive the unlife from their foes. A moment later their enemies became motes on the air as Marcus hurled another blast of holy power into the mass of zombies. Albius did the same and still more of them were destroyed. But there were many, many more ahead. Untold hundreds of dead, lurching and shambling up the tunnel toward those they hated for still daring to live.
Speaks called out above the din of battle, “Do not move to attack them!” He wove together the magical strands of the Wild and summoned up Spikes from the Stone floor ahead. “Fall back!” he yelled at his companions.
Those in the front rank hesitated to follow the Druid’s order. They had not come here to retreat in the face of danger, particularly not when they had felled some fifty foes in the span of just a few seconds. But as they gazed on, the zombies continued to shuffle forth into the murderous grasp of the stone spines lining the floor of the tunnel. They watched as these razor-like spikes destroyed the feet of the dead who feel to their knees and hands that likewise became shredded until they finally wriggled forward on elbows as the spines cut apart their torsos. What had once been Orcish women and children were now just so many tons of rotting ground meat. The three hardened warriors withdrew from this scene until it was plunged mercifully into darkness.
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Albius leaned against the tunnel wall, his breath coming in short gasps. He stood as Brother Marcus approached and tried to appear less shaken than he was.
“Are you alright, Brother Albius?” Marcus asked the young man.
“I…am. Sir, I’m fine.”
Marcus looked back up the tunnel in the direction of the battle that had just taken place. “It isn’t like fighting a skirmish along the Sythian border, is it?”
“No sir.”
Marcus paused for a moment. “Are you sure you want to do this, Albius? There is nothing but danger and death ahead and I don’t know if any of us are going to make it out of here. You don’t have to be here.”
Albius stood up straight, “Sir, I do have to be here. I can’t go back to the fortress just waiting for some sign that may never come. I need to try to make a difference! And with our faith, I think we WILL make a difference! Sir, I’m with you until the end, even if it means I walk right into the heart of Hell itself.”
Marcus nodded silently. Then, “It may well come to that, boy.” He took a step back from the young man and slung his mace back at his belt. “Rest up for a few minutes. It will take a little while before the Druid’s spell is over and we can go forward.”
Albius nodded but did not sit down again until his leader had walked back into the darkness.
---------------------------------------
The gore was horrid and made the floor slick with things that they dared not even look at. They plunged ahead into the darkness at a reckless speed but they simply had to get away from the awful pile of shredded undead as soon as they could. It was the only thing that mattered, consuming every thought until they were finally, mercifully past it.
“Remind me to burn these boots when we get home,” said Marius in a faint attempt at levity.
“I don’t have that luxury, my friend,” replied Cathal. He looked down and lamented the gore he’d had to wade through with his enchanted footwear. He hoped that the leather would come clean of the smell someday. If they lived that long.
The stench in the air was noticeably less now that they were past the dead. Because of the slight incline of the tunnel toward the Foundry and the supernaturally warmed air of The City, a very slight breeze always flowed up and to the north, carrying away the ungodly stink of the wrongly slain. They collected themselves and sipped drinks from their wineskins to clear the last of the smell from their heads. Somewhat refreshed they made their way forward and within an hour found themselves at the smashed gates of The City.
Albius had mace and shield in hand in an instant and strode toward the tunnel entrance. “The dead cry out for justice!”
Marius shot a sidelong glance at Marcus, “You’d better reign in the Torchbearer there before he gets himself killed.”
Marcus nodded, “Wait, Albius. Give us a moment as the others finish their preparations.” Marcus wore the mantle of command uneasily. It had been years since he had given orders among the Legions and he was not used to being responsible for the actions of others.
Lazarius and Speaks were conferring. “The restless dead killed in that abattoir may be loose in the city,” said Speaks. “We’d best be ready with means to drive them back if we’re to win our way past them.” The Wizard agreed and they set forth with Marius and Marcus in the lead followed closely by Cathal. The others trailed behind with the giant porcine form of Brutus bringing up the rear.
As they entered the tunnel, Marcus stepped close to Albius and gripped him by the arm. “Listen Brother, you recall the tales I’ve told you of this place? Of Hell and the Watcher and the thousands slaughtered here? Remember them well and do not charge in without my leave. Understood?” The youth nodded. Marcus hoped that he meant it.
The stench became almost palpably dense as they went forward. They soon resorted to wetting cloths with wine and tying them across their faces. A couple of hours into the journey, they heard a faint shuffling sound from ahead and the faces of the dead loomed into the edges of their torchlight.
Marius assumed a fencing stance and held forth his rapier but did not run forward to meet the undead. Marcus never stopped walking forward and drew to within a few paces of the lurching zombies. Holding forth his Shield bearing the symbol of St. Cuthbert, he cried out, “Let go your hold on this world in the name of my Lord, St. Cuthbert!” A wave of silver energy ripped through the front ranks and disintegrated a dozen of the lurching undead.
Albius found himself confronted with the first walking dead he had ever seen and discovered that obeying Brother Marcus’ order not to charge in was easy. He gathered himself and closed ranks with the others.
Speaks and Brutus moved forward, Speaks brandishing Long Tooth, his longspear gifted to him by Urdrax. They were ready to crush any of the zombies that came within their reach.
Cathal took a less cautious approach and dashed forward into the midst of the undead. The crackling blade he bore lashed out at the nearest zombie and sliced it cleanly in half, the momentum of the attack carrying through and felling another with the same stroke. And the battle was joined.
Marcus and Marius quickly moved to keep the zombies from flanking Cathal and they formed a front line of resistance. Speaks and Brutus moved in behind them to assure that aid was at the ready should they need it. Lazarius hung back and kept a watch behind them. This was exactly the sort of treacherous situation that the Blue Demoness would attempt to exploit and he was wary of being caught unawares.
Albius followed the lead of Brother Marcus and came forward brandishing his holy symbol. Another surge of holy energy blasted through the front ranks of the undead leaving dust in its wake. The boy smiled and moved forward ready to fight at the side of his leader.
Cathal and Marius stepped up through the swirling dust of the dead to meet the next set of foes. Their blades sank into rotting organs but could not drive the unlife from their foes. A moment later their enemies became motes on the air as Marcus hurled another blast of holy power into the mass of zombies. Albius did the same and still more of them were destroyed. But there were many, many more ahead. Untold hundreds of dead, lurching and shambling up the tunnel toward those they hated for still daring to live.
Speaks called out above the din of battle, “Do not move to attack them!” He wove together the magical strands of the Wild and summoned up Spikes from the Stone floor ahead. “Fall back!” he yelled at his companions.
Those in the front rank hesitated to follow the Druid’s order. They had not come here to retreat in the face of danger, particularly not when they had felled some fifty foes in the span of just a few seconds. But as they gazed on, the zombies continued to shuffle forth into the murderous grasp of the stone spines lining the floor of the tunnel. They watched as these razor-like spikes destroyed the feet of the dead who feel to their knees and hands that likewise became shredded until they finally wriggled forward on elbows as the spines cut apart their torsos. What had once been Orcish women and children were now just so many tons of rotting ground meat. The three hardened warriors withdrew from this scene until it was plunged mercifully into darkness.
---------------------------------------
Albius leaned against the tunnel wall, his breath coming in short gasps. He stood as Brother Marcus approached and tried to appear less shaken than he was.
“Are you alright, Brother Albius?” Marcus asked the young man.
“I…am. Sir, I’m fine.”
Marcus looked back up the tunnel in the direction of the battle that had just taken place. “It isn’t like fighting a skirmish along the Sythian border, is it?”
“No sir.”
Marcus paused for a moment. “Are you sure you want to do this, Albius? There is nothing but danger and death ahead and I don’t know if any of us are going to make it out of here. You don’t have to be here.”
Albius stood up straight, “Sir, I do have to be here. I can’t go back to the fortress just waiting for some sign that may never come. I need to try to make a difference! And with our faith, I think we WILL make a difference! Sir, I’m with you until the end, even if it means I walk right into the heart of Hell itself.”
Marcus nodded silently. Then, “It may well come to that, boy.” He took a step back from the young man and slung his mace back at his belt. “Rest up for a few minutes. It will take a little while before the Druid’s spell is over and we can go forward.”
Albius nodded but did not sit down again until his leader had walked back into the darkness.
---------------------------------------
The gore was horrid and made the floor slick with things that they dared not even look at. They plunged ahead into the darkness at a reckless speed but they simply had to get away from the awful pile of shredded undead as soon as they could. It was the only thing that mattered, consuming every thought until they were finally, mercifully past it.
“Remind me to burn these boots when we get home,” said Marius in a faint attempt at levity.
“I don’t have that luxury, my friend,” replied Cathal. He looked down and lamented the gore he’d had to wade through with his enchanted footwear. He hoped that the leather would come clean of the smell someday. If they lived that long.
The stench in the air was noticeably less now that they were past the dead. Because of the slight incline of the tunnel toward the Foundry and the supernaturally warmed air of The City, a very slight breeze always flowed up and to the north, carrying away the ungodly stink of the wrongly slain. They collected themselves and sipped drinks from their wineskins to clear the last of the smell from their heads. Somewhat refreshed they made their way forward and within an hour found themselves at the smashed gates of The City.
Elder-Basilisk
First Post
Well, here we go. I was sitting thinking, "Rel always updates in between times when I post." So, I thought maybe if I go away for a while there will be an update waiting for me. 
It took a little bit of fighting the urge to jump in and check the thread, but it worked. Look, here's an update. And a fun one too.
It took a little bit of fighting the urge to jump in and check the thread, but it worked. Look, here's an update. And a fun one too.
Rel
Liquid Awesome
There was no sign of any enemies at the gates and no indication that anyone had tried to repair them. It was clear that The City of Endless Summer was all but a ghost town now that the invasion had been launched. Nevertheless, the party moved cautiously into the Forge.
It too was abandoned and the hole created in the ceiling by the Watcher remained, casting an ellipse of warm sunlight on the wall. The sounds of exotic bird calls wafted down from above where the garden-paradise of The City reigned against the winter that gripped the Blackpeaks. Suddenly aware of the difference in temperature, the group paused briefly to doff their winter coats and stow them in their packs. No doubt this was partly for comfort but they also sought any brief excuse to delay opening the door into the Abattoir ahead. Lacking any further reasons to postpone the inevitable, they approached the large doors.
With weapons raised and spells at the ready, they pulled open only one of the thick doors. Light from their everburning torches pierced the darkness beyond and they saw a sea of bones. Although the smell was far from pleasant, there was surprisingly little odor coming from the huge room beyond. But there still lingered a palpable sense of Evil at what they knew had happened here.
(GM Note: In case you don’t recall, Speaks cast an Insect Swarm into this room before they left it the last time. It devoured the thousands of corpses down to the bones before dissipating).
They waited for a dozen heartbeats to see if the bones would rise from their rest to attack them but none stirred. Finally they began to cautiously move into the room, staying in a tight cluster and ready for any signs of movement. It appeared that a shallow trench of crushed bone had been trod into the two foot deep tangle of skeletons that carpeted the floor of the huge, vaulted chamber. It led off to the south.
"I'll be damned if I'm going to stride along atop this army of skeletons just waiting to pull me under like the tide!" announced Lazarius. He worked some of his magic and floated off the ground, Flying just above the group as they proceeded.
Moving along this channel amid the necropolis that surrounded them they could see at the edges of their torchlight that two other sets of huge doors led both east and west out of the chamber. But they were here to confront the faithful of Bane left in the City and the group reasoned that it was they who had left this path among the bone. They continued south.
At the south end of the cavernous room they found another set of large doors and a nearby altar, drenched in blood dried black. They paused and wordlessly regarded the focus of the Evil that was done here. Then Marcus stepped off the trodden path and picked his way across the field of bone toward the altar.
Marius called after him, “Marcus, this whole place is foul with Evil. Just leave the altar and let’s go.”
Marcus did not turn back and only said, “This shall not stand.” He kicked his way through the bone that covered the steps to the dais upon which the altar rested and drew forth his mace. He slung his Shield across his back and gripped his weapon in both hands. “My Lord, give me STRENGTH!” he cried out as he raised high his mace and power flooded into his muscles. The enchanted steel came crashing down upon the stone slab with a flash of light and a loud POP.
For a moment the only sound in the room was the ringing of Marcus’ steel. Then the grinding of stone on stone and a loud BOOM as the slab of the altar parted in the middle and fell free of its supports at the ends. Without another word Marcus gripped his mace up near the head and turned his back on the ruined stone to rejoin the others. Nothing was said as they left the Abattoir through the doors in front of them but they all felt just a bit better.
It too was abandoned and the hole created in the ceiling by the Watcher remained, casting an ellipse of warm sunlight on the wall. The sounds of exotic bird calls wafted down from above where the garden-paradise of The City reigned against the winter that gripped the Blackpeaks. Suddenly aware of the difference in temperature, the group paused briefly to doff their winter coats and stow them in their packs. No doubt this was partly for comfort but they also sought any brief excuse to delay opening the door into the Abattoir ahead. Lacking any further reasons to postpone the inevitable, they approached the large doors.
With weapons raised and spells at the ready, they pulled open only one of the thick doors. Light from their everburning torches pierced the darkness beyond and they saw a sea of bones. Although the smell was far from pleasant, there was surprisingly little odor coming from the huge room beyond. But there still lingered a palpable sense of Evil at what they knew had happened here.
(GM Note: In case you don’t recall, Speaks cast an Insect Swarm into this room before they left it the last time. It devoured the thousands of corpses down to the bones before dissipating).
They waited for a dozen heartbeats to see if the bones would rise from their rest to attack them but none stirred. Finally they began to cautiously move into the room, staying in a tight cluster and ready for any signs of movement. It appeared that a shallow trench of crushed bone had been trod into the two foot deep tangle of skeletons that carpeted the floor of the huge, vaulted chamber. It led off to the south.
"I'll be damned if I'm going to stride along atop this army of skeletons just waiting to pull me under like the tide!" announced Lazarius. He worked some of his magic and floated off the ground, Flying just above the group as they proceeded.
Moving along this channel amid the necropolis that surrounded them they could see at the edges of their torchlight that two other sets of huge doors led both east and west out of the chamber. But they were here to confront the faithful of Bane left in the City and the group reasoned that it was they who had left this path among the bone. They continued south.
At the south end of the cavernous room they found another set of large doors and a nearby altar, drenched in blood dried black. They paused and wordlessly regarded the focus of the Evil that was done here. Then Marcus stepped off the trodden path and picked his way across the field of bone toward the altar.
Marius called after him, “Marcus, this whole place is foul with Evil. Just leave the altar and let’s go.”
Marcus did not turn back and only said, “This shall not stand.” He kicked his way through the bone that covered the steps to the dais upon which the altar rested and drew forth his mace. He slung his Shield across his back and gripped his weapon in both hands. “My Lord, give me STRENGTH!” he cried out as he raised high his mace and power flooded into his muscles. The enchanted steel came crashing down upon the stone slab with a flash of light and a loud POP.
For a moment the only sound in the room was the ringing of Marcus’ steel. Then the grinding of stone on stone and a loud BOOM as the slab of the altar parted in the middle and fell free of its supports at the ends. Without another word Marcus gripped his mace up near the head and turned his back on the ruined stone to rejoin the others. Nothing was said as they left the Abattoir through the doors in front of them but they all felt just a bit better.
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Speaks With Stone
First Post
Look for this phrase to be repeated often in upcoming updates. . .
"Lazarius hung back and kept a watch behind them. This was exactly the sort of treacherous situation that the Blue Demoness would attempt to exploit and he was wary of being caught unawares."
Lazarius had an overwhelming obsession with this chick. He seemed quite happy to lurk invisibly around combats waiting to snipe her if she showed up. Early in the game he fried everything that moved and half of us wondered if we'd ever actually close for melee. Late in the game we wondering what happened to all of that artillery we used to have. However, it was a lot of fun watching the neurosis develop and the ends to which he'd go to try to catch her.
"Lazarius hung back and kept a watch behind them. This was exactly the sort of treacherous situation that the Blue Demoness would attempt to exploit and he was wary of being caught unawares."
Lazarius had an overwhelming obsession with this chick. He seemed quite happy to lurk invisibly around combats waiting to snipe her if she showed up. Early in the game he fried everything that moved and half of us wondered if we'd ever actually close for melee. Late in the game we wondering what happened to all of that artillery we used to have. However, it was a lot of fun watching the neurosis develop and the ends to which he'd go to try to catch her.
Rel
Liquid Awesome
BardStephenFox said:
Thank you, BSF. I enjoyed this part of the campaign a lot because I knew it was going to be exciting. And the tension from the previous post was pretty accurate. The players didn't know exactly what awaited them but they knew it wouldn't be good.
Elder-Basilisk said:
Well from here it is pretty much one big roller coaster ride. Breaks in the action from now on will be few and far between and danger lurks around...
...every corner.
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Rel
Liquid Awesome
Beyond the Abattoir they found more of the large hallway similar to that in the Forge, sized for the easy passage of Ogres. After a short distance the corridor turned and turned again to head south again. This architectural oddity caught Lazarius’ attention and he paused to examine some markings along the wall at this latest turn. As the others continued on up the hallway, a terrible recognition settled in and Lazarius cried out, “WAIT!” But it was too late.
The hallway ahead of them lit up with flashing blue light as the Bolt of Lightning surged through the corridor from ahead. Even as Lazarius ducked to the side of the corridor, avoiding the worst of the blast, he knew that the worst wasn’t over. As the wave of electricity hit this end of the hallway, the Glyph inscribed on the wall lit up and sent an identical Lightning Bolt back up the hall in the other direction.
Except for Marius, who seemed to dodge like the very lightning itself, all of them were badly scorched by the twin blasts of crackling pain. Albius went down in a shivering, smoking clatter of armor and lay still. The others found themselves thrust into battle in an instant as a group of Ogres emerged from a side passage some eighty feet ahead.
Miraculously unscathed by the lightning, Marius was the first to react and assumed a defensive posture. Cathal joined the Imperial Explorer and was ready to hold the enemy at bay while his companions collected themselves from the devastating pair of lightning blasts. Behind this thin line of defense Speaks called upon the Wild to provide them with an ally who was not already on death’s door.
Lazarius soared above Speaks, Marcus and the fallen Albius, plucking a small grey stone from his Haversack as he did so. Weaving magic around the inert rock it suddenly blazed with brilliant Daylight and set it spinning around his head.
As this light filled the chamber, Marcus knelt at the side of young Albius and saw him draw a ragged breath. Filled with elation that the boy was not dead, Marcus placed a hand to his chest and let a surge of holy magic flow into him, healing the worst of his burns. But the young Cleric still lay unconscious.
The Ogres formed a phalanx with their longspears bristling steel death in the direction of the party as they advanced slowly up the hallway. They stopped some forty feet away and seemed to await the party’s attack.
Not quite ready to charge into battle, the companions opted to take advantage of this brief respite to gird themselves for the combat ahead. Marcus gave further healing to Albius who’s eyes fluttered open. Standing quickly from the youth’s side, Marcus grabbed the lip of his breastplate and pulled him to his feet.
Cathal and Marius still stood shoulder to shoulder. The Brigante gestured with his left hand and summoned forth his mystical Shield. Just behind this pair Lazarius wove a charm around himself to Resist Fire. As the Wizard completed his enchantment there was a faint pop at his side and he glanced down to see the Ally that Speaks had Summoned. There stood a badger the size of a small dog. “This is all you could come up with?!” demanded the Imperial War Wizard.
Whether Speaks had a retort ready or not didn’t matter since he was already in the process of transformation into the form of a large bear. He did let out a growl but it wasn’t directed at Lazarius and instead was a magical enchantment that caused the badger to double in size.
Lazarius glanced nervously at the line of Ogres with their spears but they seemed content to guard the hallway further ahead. Perhaps they waited for reinforcements. As he pondered this, the Wizard felt his muscles try and seize and he fought to keep from being paralyzed. Certain that this was the work of the Blue Demoness, he withdrew from behind the front rank and quaffed a potion that healed some of his wounds.
Plenty of recovery was taking place from the lightning blasts as Marcus used his healing magic on himself this time. Desperately wishing to be useful in their first real battle against the Banites, Brother Albius ran to support the front line. Seeing the smoke still rising from some of Cathal’s wounds, Albius lay a hand on the shoulder of the Brigante and sent a rush of healing magic to soothe his injuries.
Speaks decided that it was time to carry the battle to the enemy and badger, bear and boar charged up the hallway toward the waiting Ogres. The badger closed to within range of their spears and the others gathered themselves to charge in after the trio of large animals. But they pulled up short and gaped in horror as Speaks’ bear-form suddenly vanished when the floor gave way and he plunged into the depths of a pit full of spikes…
The hallway ahead of them lit up with flashing blue light as the Bolt of Lightning surged through the corridor from ahead. Even as Lazarius ducked to the side of the corridor, avoiding the worst of the blast, he knew that the worst wasn’t over. As the wave of electricity hit this end of the hallway, the Glyph inscribed on the wall lit up and sent an identical Lightning Bolt back up the hall in the other direction.
Except for Marius, who seemed to dodge like the very lightning itself, all of them were badly scorched by the twin blasts of crackling pain. Albius went down in a shivering, smoking clatter of armor and lay still. The others found themselves thrust into battle in an instant as a group of Ogres emerged from a side passage some eighty feet ahead.
Miraculously unscathed by the lightning, Marius was the first to react and assumed a defensive posture. Cathal joined the Imperial Explorer and was ready to hold the enemy at bay while his companions collected themselves from the devastating pair of lightning blasts. Behind this thin line of defense Speaks called upon the Wild to provide them with an ally who was not already on death’s door.
Lazarius soared above Speaks, Marcus and the fallen Albius, plucking a small grey stone from his Haversack as he did so. Weaving magic around the inert rock it suddenly blazed with brilliant Daylight and set it spinning around his head.
As this light filled the chamber, Marcus knelt at the side of young Albius and saw him draw a ragged breath. Filled with elation that the boy was not dead, Marcus placed a hand to his chest and let a surge of holy magic flow into him, healing the worst of his burns. But the young Cleric still lay unconscious.
The Ogres formed a phalanx with their longspears bristling steel death in the direction of the party as they advanced slowly up the hallway. They stopped some forty feet away and seemed to await the party’s attack.
Not quite ready to charge into battle, the companions opted to take advantage of this brief respite to gird themselves for the combat ahead. Marcus gave further healing to Albius who’s eyes fluttered open. Standing quickly from the youth’s side, Marcus grabbed the lip of his breastplate and pulled him to his feet.
Cathal and Marius still stood shoulder to shoulder. The Brigante gestured with his left hand and summoned forth his mystical Shield. Just behind this pair Lazarius wove a charm around himself to Resist Fire. As the Wizard completed his enchantment there was a faint pop at his side and he glanced down to see the Ally that Speaks had Summoned. There stood a badger the size of a small dog. “This is all you could come up with?!” demanded the Imperial War Wizard.
Whether Speaks had a retort ready or not didn’t matter since he was already in the process of transformation into the form of a large bear. He did let out a growl but it wasn’t directed at Lazarius and instead was a magical enchantment that caused the badger to double in size.
Lazarius glanced nervously at the line of Ogres with their spears but they seemed content to guard the hallway further ahead. Perhaps they waited for reinforcements. As he pondered this, the Wizard felt his muscles try and seize and he fought to keep from being paralyzed. Certain that this was the work of the Blue Demoness, he withdrew from behind the front rank and quaffed a potion that healed some of his wounds.
Plenty of recovery was taking place from the lightning blasts as Marcus used his healing magic on himself this time. Desperately wishing to be useful in their first real battle against the Banites, Brother Albius ran to support the front line. Seeing the smoke still rising from some of Cathal’s wounds, Albius lay a hand on the shoulder of the Brigante and sent a rush of healing magic to soothe his injuries.
Speaks decided that it was time to carry the battle to the enemy and badger, bear and boar charged up the hallway toward the waiting Ogres. The badger closed to within range of their spears and the others gathered themselves to charge in after the trio of large animals. But they pulled up short and gaped in horror as Speaks’ bear-form suddenly vanished when the floor gave way and he plunged into the depths of a pit full of spikes…
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