It was Lazarius who got the first look into the room beyond and it was not what he had expected. By virtue of his Ghostform magic he was able to pass directly through the stone to the left of the door and emerge from the thick, stone wall into a large, circular chamber. In the center of both the floor and ceiling was a circular hole some 20 feet across and he could see neither a bottom to the one in the floor nor a top to the one in the ceiling. Across the room was an open corridor. In front of it was one of the most bizarre creatures he had ever laid eyes on.
It was roughly man-shaped but towered even taller than the Ogres they had recently fought. Horns and tusks jutted from its flesh and face at odd angles and the head was framed by a pair of almost comically large grey ears. But most strangely of all was the huge nose that drooped down from its face and seemed to twitch and move of its own volition. Whether this was some bizarre new race native to the Black Peaks or some creature of the realms of Hell, Lazarius did not know and there was no time to contemplate the matter further as he heard the door to his right open at the hand of Marius.
The setting off of magical traps was almost becoming routine for the Imperial Explorer and he resolved to improve his education about such things just as soon as he was able to return to Emor. But just now there were more pressing matters requiring his attention, including, but not limited to, the roiling wave of black fire that burst from the runes covering the door. He leapt backwards and then bunched his legs beneath himself, huddling as close to the stairs as he could as the swirling black cloud of flames hurtled over his head and crashed into the walls around him. As it passed, he regained his feet and moved quickly but quietly into the room beyond the enruned door, hoping to take anyone inside by surprise.
Marcus had no such plans and stepped into the room, Shield raised high and glowing with the brilliance of the Daylight spell Lazarius had cast. He found himself staring across a broad pit at the bizarre guardian of this chamber. Before he had time to do more than note its presence, the creature did something and from nothing appeared a whirling, shining Blade Barrier and its razor teeth clattered off of Marcus’ armor and shield, shards of metal finding the gaps in his protection and leaving his arm bloody in its wake.
Lazarius was outside the area of the spinning blades and made his first visible appearance as a quintet of blazing Magic Missiles flew from his outstretches hand and unerringly flew toward the behemoth. But, one by one, the darts of magic seemed to evaporate just as they reached the creature’s flesh and it appeared unharmed and unconcerned.
Speaks moved forward and saw that he would never be able to make it through the swirling mass of blades in his human form and quickly adopted the familiar shape of the eagle. Even as his form solidified he saw Cathal charge past him and perform an enormous leap over the Blade Barrier as he fearlessly engaged the towering, misshapen giant.
At the last instant, the Brigante spun in the air to avoid the sweep of an outstretched claw from the Guardian. He landed on his feet and swung his blade at the creature but found his weapon repelled by the thick, leathery hide of his foe. He noted with some relief that Marius was also moving to engage the Guardian but, as was typical of Marius, he was being careful and slow. He could also see that Marcus was coming to engage the huge monster and, as was typical of Marcus, he was being reckless and swift. It was good to have things you could rely upon at moments like this.
As Marcus rushed to engage, the swirling blades continuing to rattle across his armor and cut him in places, the Guardian swept out with a huge, clawed fist and raked the Warrior-Priest, slowing his progress. With the other giant hand, the creature attempted to shove Cathal bodily into the Blade Barrier. Cathal struck out with his crackling blade and hacked the creature’s arm, wounding it but unable to prevent it from shoving him into the cloud of slashing steel. At the last moment, Cathal willing moved along with the push and ducked, rolling under the majority of the sharp bits of metal. The Guardian turned its attention back onto Marcus and lashed out, this time with its trunk and raked the spike on the end of it down Marcus’ armor, leaving the metal scratched but not the man.
Lazarius could see that the Blade Barrier posed as much of a threat to his comrades as did the Guardian and he reached out with his own magic to Dispel the conjuration. He smiled with satisfaction as the swirling metal returned to the nothingness from which it had sprung. Filled with triumph, the Wizard moved quickly forward and his ghostly form made for the hallway behind the Guardian. He intended to see what it was that the Guardian guarded.
Speaks’ eagle form flashed into the room as the Blade Barrier vanished and he conjured a Flaming Sphere between the legs of the Guardian to give it something else to worry with. For so large a creature it moved with considerable agility and managed to avoid the fiery ball between its legs. Even so, it did not move from the spot where it stood as doing so would have made it possible for someone to slip past into the corridor beyond. It crouched slightly and adopted a Defensive Stance.
Cathal tumbled forward, away from the edge of the pit and made ready to strike at the Guardian when it was distracted by another attacker. As he did so, he thought he caught a hint of movement or maybe a shadow near the pit but his attention quickly turned back to the giant Guardian as Marius tumbled in opposite the creature. Cathal’s blade swung true but the bumpy hide of the Guardian once again turned it aside. Marius too found that his rapier could not penetrate the thick skin of the creature.
Marcus had no such problems with his mace however. He struck a pair of telling blows that left bloody dents in the hide of the Guardian. Marcus was focused on his enemy and revenge for the fallen Albius so he did not notice the looks of horror on the faces of his friends as they gazed at what drifted down through the hole in the ceiling.
Marius saw his doom approaching once again as the Watcher’s spherical form hovered silently into the chamber. A broad leather eye-patch covered the large, central eye where Cathal had struck his killing blow on the thing in the first encounter. At least that was what Marius had been told since he had spent nearly the entirety of the previous battle with the creature as a statue of himself. He stood powerless as one of the smaller eyes sent a piercing beam of power at him. His limbs began to seize up, just like last time but he cried out, “NOOOOO!” and this time his body did not fail him and succumb to the stone that tried to bloom within his flesh. A second ray found Cathal and a third connected with the flying Speaks but none of them were any more effective than the first had been.
The Guardian remained locked in battle and recognized Marcus as the threat that he was. He rained down blows with his tremendous, clawed fists and Marcus heard something in his shoulder pop as he tried in vain to ward them off with his Shield. Each blow had immense strength behind it and Marcus knew that he could not long withstand such punishment.
Lazarius attempted to push past the Guardian and enter the hallway beyond. The Guardian was powerless to prevent the passage of his incorporeal form but where he failed, the other protections of the Sanctum did not. Lazarius was overcome with an utter feeling of Forbiddance and KNEW in his soul that entering the place was not possible. Thus rebuffed, he turned to seek a new target and found one with the appearance of the Watcher.
Knowing the immense danger of the creature he let loose with one of his most powerful magics. The Lightning Bolt that flew from his hands seemed more intense, more Empowered than any the others had ever seen him cast. It raked the across the body of the creature and burned away part of the eye patch it wore. Beneath could be seen the milky, huge eye and the rent left in it in the wake of Cathal’s blade. Speaks swooped around the perimeter of the room and let out a piercing cry as a column of Flame Struck down and filled the pit both above and below the chamber they fought in. The Watcher was caught in the conflagration and this time was utterly incinerated.
(GM Note: The first time the Beholder got punked was my fault for accidentally nerfing its abilities. This time it was just plain unlucky. The PC’s made all their saves and it failed all of its own taking 91 points of damage between Lazarius’ and Speaks’ spells.)
As the roaring of the flames died away, it was replaced by a distant rumble and all of them felt a faint tremble. Disconcerting though that was they still had the Guardian to deal with.
Marius and Cathal struck as one and the Brigante finally penetrated the thorny hide of the Guardian with his crackling sword. Marius still could not force his own thin blade through its tough skin however. Marcus was barely keeping to his feet after the punishment the Guardian had inflicted on him. He saw the creature raising its hands for another strike and did the only thing he felt that he could. He raised his Shield and cried out, “Protect me my Lord!”
The first couple of blows hammered into the Wall of Force erected by Marcus but the Guardian quickly realized that he could not batter his way through to his chosen target. He shifted his next attack toward Cathal and attempted to hurl the warrior back out of his reach but was repaid only with another cut across the wrist with the Brigante’s blade.
Lazarius circled behind Marius and let fly another brace of Magic Missiles but these were no more effective than the last. Speaks swooped in and landed on the shoulder of the beleaguered Marcus and healing magic flowed from his claws. He was also pleased to see the Flaming Sphere brush into the leg of the Guardian and smoke rose from its burning hide.
Marius and Cathal continued their coordinated attacks on a foe who seemed rooted to the same spot. Marius finally managed to sink his blade into the flesh beneath the tough, outer shell of the beast though Cathal’s attacks bore no fruit. On the other side of the Wall of Force Marcus lent his own healing powers to those Speaks had used upon him. He still felt far from battle-ready but no longer like he might fall down and die at any moment. Still, he felt guilty for abandoning the fight and cringed with sympathy as Cathal absorbed a hit from one of the creature’s claws.
There was no question now that something below was rumbling continuously. They could hear it and they could feel it and under no circumstance could they imagine that it was anything but bad. A very tangible sense of urgency began to take hold of them.
Speaks continued to pump healing magic into Marcus as the others did battle with the Guardian. Neither Marius nor Cathal seemed to be able to damage it much though Lazarius finally managed to get one of his spells to take hold on the creature as a Coldball burst around it.
Cathal finally went from being merely focused and angry at the creature to flying into a complete Rage. His next attack sank deep within the Guardian’s flesh and blood began to flow freely from the wound. This small triumph was accompanied by the fact that the floor was trembling much more noticeably and continuously than before and they began to wonder if the entire City was about to collapse upon them.
Perhaps the Guardian felt the urgency as well for it launched into a series of desperate and vicious attacks that left bloody rents in Cathal’s armor. The raging Brigante seemed not to care about these wounds and the blood only served to intensify his frightening countenance. In fact Cathal now eschewed the use of his shield and gripped his sword in both hands. Either he or the Guardian was about to die in an all out fight.
Lazarius had to find out what was causing the trembling and moved to the edge of the pit. Some forty feet below he could make out what appeared to some sort of dark liquid that looked to be oozing upwards rather rapidly. He turned and yelled to his companions, “We have GOT to get OUT of here, VERY SOON!!” To punctuate his point he fired another volley of Magic Missiles in desperation and was pleasantly surprised to see them actually impact the Guardian.
Locked in their titanic struggle, Cathal and the Guardian looked into each other’s eyes. The Guardian’s eyes held utter resolve not to yield the passageway it was meant to protect. Cathal’s eyes held fury and focus and certainty that he would destroy his enemy. The Irresistible Force struck the Immovable Object. The Irresistible Force won. Cathal’s blade plunged into the creature’s chest in a double handed blow that buried the weapon up to its hilt.
Marius wasted no time as the creature fell. He wanted to know what it was that Lazarius had seen in the hole to make him lose his composure. He moved to the edge and looked down into the dark liquid rising from the shadowy recesses of the pit. It was now only some thirty feet below and a faint smell hung on the air that was seemed familiar but as yet unidentifiable.
Marcus, feeling much better after a large dose of healing magic, plunged ahead into the hallway the Guardian had protected. He instantly felt the wrongness of the place and found it utterly repellant. The others followed and they too were nearly overcome by the sense of repulsion and Forbiddance. It was as though they had entered the maw of Hate and it wished nothing more than to spit them back out. And that is exactly what it did.
One by one the soul-rending damage they endured became too much and none of them made it more than a score of paces into the Sanctum before they were sent running, grasping for sanity, from its entrance. As they gasped trying to recover from the ordeal, with the smell of blood and struggle filling their lungs, each felt his own version of the same thoughts: To have come so far, through so much and to have sacrificed so much, how can we fail to cross this last threshold and confront our foes in their lair? To this question there was no answer forthcoming.
Marius stalked away from the corridor seeking something, or preferably someone, to take out his frustration on. Thus it was that he found himself standing at the edge of the pit and looking down into the rising sludge. But the smell being pushed up from the pit was now intense enough to be recognizable as was the color of the liquid that rose from the depths.
It was blood. And things moved within it.
