Kid Charlemagne
I am the Very Model of a Modern Moderator
Everett said:
I'm 99% certain when the PC's were made up, it was with 2nd edition rules...
Sagiro's Story Hour Returns (new thread started on 5/18/08)
- Thread starter Sagiro
- Start date
I'm 99% certain when the PC's were made up, it was with 2nd edition rules...
Zaruthustran
The tingling means it’s working!
LightPhoenix said:
No, it's not the orcs. Didn't you notice the bit about Santo loudly proclaiming the prowess of the heroes? Halflings are a chatty bunch.
The whole "no witnesses" plan falls apart when you leave one entire half of the battle's combatants not only alive, but actively singing your praises.
-z
Graywolf-ELM
Explorer
Things got a bit quiet around Enworld. Did everyone go to GenCon?
GW
GW
Sagiro
Rodent of Uncertain Parentage
Sagiro’s Story Hour, Part 264
Exit, Pursued by a Dragon
It has been over one hundred years since Naloric Skewn slaughtered the elves of the Greatwood and took Kinnet Vulthani as his capital. After razing most of the exquisite elven buildings and cutting down swaths of ancient trees, he ordered the construction of a towering stone fortress which would be his seat of power. Now, high above the surrounding forest, in a stark throne room lacking in the traditional opulence of royalty, the creature Guztha stands humble before his Emperor. Towering above him on a raised throne of obsidian the mighty Naloric, fell ruler of Charagan, takes a sip of wine from a cup carved from an elven skull.
"You smell them, don’t you?” says Naloric.
Guztha is one of a small cadre of servants to whom Naloric has bestowed especial honor and power. Black lesions crawl on his skin, a mark of extraordinary favor. That he is allowed to stand in the same room as Naloric, that Naloric is actually speaking to him, demonstrates his exalted status.
“Yes, my Lord,” says Guztha. “You know that I do. It is faint, but there is no mistake.”
Naloric leans forward in his throne. “They need to brought into the fold, like the others. You know that things can be... confusing... in the beginning.”
Guztha shudders. He remembers.
“I did not expect that there would be any more Blood-touched...” says Naloric, frowning.
Guztha says nothing. If he agrees, he is acknowledging that the Emperor is not all-knowing, which would be a mistake. If he disagrees... well, one does not disagree with the Emperor.
“No matter. Take Shivertooth. He is young and lacks experience in the field. Find these Blood-touched and return them to me by any means necessary. If they resist, kill them and bring back the corpses, as whole as possible.”
Guztha bows his head. “Yes, my Lord.”
“They are near Condor’s Folly, possibly in the company of orcs or halflings. Do not become distracted – the Blood-touched are all that matter. You will have no difficulties locating them. You are brothers, after all.”
Guztha nods and turns to go.
“One more thing. There is something different about these, different from you, different from the others I have... blessed. I don’t know what, but I sense that the difference is important. Do not fail me, Guztha.”
“I will not, my Lord.”
Guztha turns and hurries from the throne room.
* *
All good things must come to and end, and the Company’s stay in Greenshire is no exception. It is nearing sunset on a day almost a week removed from the battle with the orcs, when the bell once again starts ringing a clamorous call to arms.
The Company rush out of the Rollicking Rabbit expecting another invasion of humanoids, but no orcs are in evidence. Many halflings are pointing upward, where a small shape can be seen swooping high over the town. Dranko squints into the dusk and thinks he discerns a dragonish shape, with the speck of a rider upon it.
The flying creature drops and lands abruptly about a quarter mile outside of town, spurring the halflings to muster at Greenshire’s eastern edge. Morningstar casts a telepathic bond that includes the halfling militia leader Torbold, so that the party can keep tabs on what’s going on without making themselves evident to the new arrival.
It’s not long before the heavy thumping of a walking dragon can be heard approaching the town. It looms large in the failing light, a dull yellow winged lizard with dagger teeth and a snaking tail. From Torbold’s description, it’s the same species of dragon as appeared near the end of the Battle of Verdshane. As it reaches the line of stalwart halflings, the dragon’s rider calls out:
“Make way, in the name of the Emperor!”
When Torbold relays that to the Company, there is quick agreement that it’s time for the party to make a hasty getaway. Santo Wilburforce steps to the front of the halfling line and speaks to the newcomer.
“What is your business, sir?
“None of yours,” says the rider. “Make way.”
Morningstar casts wind walk on half the party, while Torbold narrates. The rider has leapt gracefully off the dragon’s back to the ground. He wears a black military uniform.
“We don’t want to call any more attention to your village,” thinks Dranko to Torbold. “If they ask, we’re headed east.” (In fact, they’re heading to Nahalm which is to the south-west.)
A second wind walk gets the remainder of the Company into traveling mode, and they take off at sixty miles per hour, staying as low to the ground as possible. Torbold wishes them luck, and promises to continue to relay what’s happening with the dragon and its rider.
“The guy is asking questions,” thinks Torbold, even as the party starts to put miles between themselves and Greenshire. “I’m not right up front, but I can sort of hear what being said. He seems angry. Yeah, he’s asking about you, all right. I think he means you, anyway. He doesn’t have a description. I hear bits and pieces. He’s asking about... strangers, someone unusual.”
“Interesting,” says Dranko. “He’s not asking about wizards, or people who slaughtered the orcs.”
There’s a pause while Torbold listens intently.
“Somehow he’s figured out more about you. Someone squealed, maybe? Now he’s asking questions more specifically about you. He wants to know more about someone with star fields for eyes.”
“He may be reading minds,” says Dranko.
“That would make sense, given the way he’s asking questions,” says Torbold. “If that’s the case, he’s going to find out a lot about you. Santo’s talking to him. He’s making up some story about you and the orcs. He doesn’t seem to be worried about having his mind read.”
There is a brief flurry of discussion about going back and killing this black-clad soldier, but that would clearly tip off the Emperor, so the plan is quickly discarded.
“Hm,” says Torbold. “The guy seems satisfied. Hold on. I think he believes Santo. Ah. Ok, it sounds like Santo is claiming you arrived with the orcs, and were bad mouthing the Emperor, and he fought you off. The soldier seems sure that you were just here, which is stretching Santo’s story. Hm, he’s walking away. I’ll try to follow, but I don’t want to get too close. He’s not showing any sign of attacking. Ah, stupid dragon. Crushed some rain barrels with his tail. Oops, he’s getting back on the dragon, and is taking off. He must have been satisfied. He’s spiraling up, not in any particular direction. Crap, I’ve lost him in the dusk, couldn’t tell the direction.”
Troubling as this all is, the Company is pleased that the dragon didn’t just destroy the town out of spite. Soon enough they are out over the ocean, flying at top speed toward Nahalm while settling in for a boring five-hour trip. Kibi is especially inclined to grumble, as being a) in the air, and b) above water, is no place for a dwarf. The full moon shines out in an open sky as below them the dark waves undulate gently.
Hours later they reach the northern coast of Nahalm, though there’s no sign of the town of Kynder Hold (not surprising). Even at its fastest a flying dragon would have been left behind long ago, but still there’s a sense of unease among the Company. They fly ten miles further inland before landing and making camp, and set about reviewing their anti-scrying possibilities for the night. Dranko suggests the divination sink, but it’s finally stopped working. Aravis, whom the dragon’s rider seems to have identified by description, will wear an amulet of nondetection.
Coincidentally, just as they start wondering if the dragon will find them (or, more realistically, how long will it take), a dark shape passes in front of the moon high above.
“Crap!” exclaims Dranko.
“That was fast,” adds Flicker.
“We should prepare to fight,” says Aravis, and Dranko agrees.
“Let’s just get this over with.”
Grey Wolf uses a wand to get Aravis flying, while Morningstar makes him invisible. The others start hurriedly casting buff spells. There’s a loud whooshing sound from nearby, and the heavy thud of the dragon landing somewhere out of sight.
A voice comes out of the darkness from the direction of the dragon’s landing.
“Put down your arms. I wish to talk.”
“Ok!” shouts Dranko. “Go ahead and talk!”
Guztha wonders to himself how this will go. These people have some formidable magic abilities, clearly. Where did they come from? Why hadn’t the Emperor known about them before now. Maybe he had, and this is a test for him? Strangest of all, there are many of them, and yet only two are Blood-touched. Perhaps, having grown in power, they have enslaved a cadre of servants.
“I’m going to approach,” says Guztha. “You would be wise not to attack me.”
Aravis responds to that by casting greater arcane sight.
“Is that because of your dragon?” asks Dranko.
“Among other reasons, yes,” says Guztha.
“How’d you find us?” asks Dranko.
Guztha strides into the Company’s clearing. He appears human, just over six-feet tall, a dour and soldierly looking fellow holding a short sword. His skin is olive, and covered with strange dark lesions that crawl across his hands and face.
Kibi affects xorn movement and sinks into the ground. Snokas moves to protect Morningstar while Ernie inches closer to Yoba.
Invisible and hovering above the ground, Aravis peers intently at the soldier with his arcane sight. He has two magical auras upon him – one is allowing him to detect thoughts, and the other is an illusion spell that covers his whole body. He also has a spell-like ability with which Aravis is wholly unfamiliar, and when Aravis concentrates on that ability, he gets a waft of concentrated Evil.
“Drop the illusion,” he says sternly.
Guztha looks up, straight at the invisible Aravis. The lesions on his skin quicken their movement.
“You might want to look into some kind of skin care options,” says Dranko.
Guztha looks away from Aravis and stares intently at Ernie. Then he points, first at Ernie, and then back at Aravis.
“You. And you. You are coming with me. The Emperor very much wishes to speak with you.”
“Well, he knows where we are,” says Dranko. “We can probably fit him in on Friday.”
Guztha was prepared for many things, but this kind of impudence toward the Emperor is simply unthinkable.
“Are you coming willingly or unwillingly?” he asks through clenched teeth.
Aravis and Ernie do start moving towards him, but Guztha holds up his hand.
“Stop. I wish first for you to divest yourself of weapons and magical items.”
“Um....” says Aravis. “No. I don’t think so.”
I figured it would come to this.
“In that case,” says Guztha. “I suppose we’ll figure out how you became Blood-touched in the post-mortem.”
And with that, the hostilities begin. Grey Wolf pegs Guztha with an enervation that drains away a small amount of strength. Guztha hardly seems to notice, as he focuses his attention on Aravis. The lesions on Guztha’s face start to squirm riotously, and Aravis feels a palpable force of Evil strike him, similar to that of the Evil Book in Mokad’s library, and more recently from the black goo in Het Branoi.
Pustules rise and burst all over Aravis’s skin, and he grimaces in pain and disgust. And before anyone can react, Guztha takes a quick step into the shadows and melts away.
Aravis dimension doors about fifty feet up and a couple hundred feet in the direction of where the dragon landed. He sees that dragon is still a good sixty feet further, and flapping its wings, preparing to take to the air.
Yoba casts protection from evil on Ernie, while Kibi starts summoning some celestial owls. Aravis then reports that the dragon has gone airborne.
Ernie, also flying, rises upward and spots the dark shape of the dragon in flight. He casts a blade barrier directly in the dragon’s space, but as Aravis sees from his vantage, the dragon is entirely unaffected by it.
Morningstar follows this with a darkburst on the dragon, but as she’s several hundred feet away, she cannot tell if it had any effect.
“Hey Flicker,” says Dranko. “Jump on my back.”
Flicker does so, after which Dranko flies upward, straight toward the dragon.
“What are you doing?” asks Flicker nervously. “Are you mad? We’re going to end up in its mouth!”
“Actually, if this works, we’ll end up in his belly.”
“WHAT?!”
Aravis sees that the rider has somehow gotten back onto the dragon, which is circling around toward the majority of the party.
How convenient.
He casts maze. On the dragon. The huge lizard vanishes from under the rider, and Guztha plummets a hundred feet into the scrub below. Grey Wolf and Yoba take off in that direction.
“Stay with me,” says Dranko to Flicker. “We have to get eaten when that thing returns.”
Kibi’s celestial owls arrive but there’s no enemy in sight. Kibi points in the direction of where Guztha fell, and the owls swoop over. Kibi dimension doors over there as well, making his best guess as to the landing spot of the dragon rider. Aravis flies over the general area but can’t spot Guztha in the moonlight.
When Kibi appears, he finds that the he didn’t take the hilly terrain into account, and drops ten feet to the ground. Before he can get up, he sees a humanoid shape emerge from the shadows and stand over him. Guztha feints with his short sword, Kibi flinches predictably, and Guztha uses the opportunity to land a perfect sneak attack.
The dragon reappears in the air, only seconds after his trip into the maze. Ernie flies forward and pegs the dragon with a flame strike. Morningstar does likewise, and follows it up with a quickened searing darkness. Smoke rises from the dragon’s body. Snokas fires his bow up at the dragon but his arrows mostly bounce off its hide.
“Flicker,” says Dranko. “I want you to look horrified, like you don’t want to be eaten.”
“I AM horrified!” shouts Flicker. “For just that reason! You’re gonna share the good part of this plan with me at some point, right?”
“Sure,” says Dranko. “We’re gonna fly into its mouth. It’s gonna swallow us. When we’re good and deep in its guts, I’m going to activate Step’s immovable rod, and you’re going use your cape to dim door us out of there.”
Flicker gulps, wonders if Dranko has taken “chewing” into account as part of the plan, and sees that they’re now at dragon-mouth level.
Aravis, alerted to Guztha’s presence by Kibi’s cry of pain, casts reverse gravity, with the lower bound of the effect a few feet off the ground. This means that Guztha is caught in the effect, but the prone Kibi is not. Guztha doesn’t bother to grab on to anything, but falls back up into the air. He’s like an evil yo-yo. At the top of the gravity column he tumbles gracefully into a fighting stance, upside-down, hovering.
Grey Wolf casts reciprocal gyre on Guztha, who doesn’t even flinch. (Which is probably an indication that he doesn’t have too many spells active upon his person.) Kibi casts a quickened coldfire straight up at the rider and dragon both, follows it up with an empowered version of the same, then quickly sinks back into the ground.
Guztha can't hide his worry. These people are even more powerful than he had guesed at first. Naloric will not be pleased if he returns empty-handed, but he should prepare for escape just in case. For now, though, the fight is not over. Shivertooth has never been in a combat like this before, but he should still be a force to be reckoned with. And at this very moment, there are better places for him to be...
Aravis sees the rider melt into the shadows again. He think his foe is using an effect like dimension door, but he doesn’t recognize the specific ability.
Shivertooth surveys the battlefield, and recalls some of his battle lessons. Your greatest advantage is flight. Your opponents will be on the ground, and you will be in the air. From there, your breath, your greatest weapon, can be used to its best advantage. If one foe takes flight, don’t waste time with it, but get it back on the ground if you can. Get your enemies clustered close, breathe, and fly away. Repeat until they’re dead. If they scatter, try picking one up, flying high, and dropping them.
To Dranko’s great frustration, the dragon doesn’t try to eat him. Instead it casts dispel magic, ending Dranko’s flight spell and sending him and Flicker wafting downward (thanks to a feather fall item).
“Change of plans,” says Dranko as they land. “Here, take this.”
He presses the immovable rod into Flicker’s hand.
“But...”
“You can still fly, with your armor. Get yourself eaten, use the rod, and dim door to safety.”
“But...”
“No time to waste! Get going!”
Flicker sighs, activates the flying ability of his celestial armor, and takes off.
The dragon endures another pair of flame strikes from Morningstar and Ernie, cast at long range. Most of the others look about for the rider but see nothing, while Flicker flies toward Shivertooth. Aravis sees that the Dragon has performed a wingover maneuver and is now headed back toward them. He moves a bit and targets the dragon with a prismatic spray that sears the target with acid.
Kibi is underground, but Scree is scouting, poking a sapphire eye up through the ground.
“Scree, what’s the dragon doing?”
“Er... flying?”
“Can you be more specific?”
“Flying toward us, looks like. Coming in a bit low. I can’t see any details – in this light the dragon looks like a silhouette. A bunch of folks are all standing near each other above us, and the dragon’s headed toward them.”
“Perfect,” says Kibi. He pops up out of the ground and casts a wide wall of force directly in the dragon’s path.
Snokas and Morningstar are standing back to back, scanning the area for the elusive dragon-rider. Suddenly Guztha is standing right in front of Morningstar, sword poised to strike. Snokas’s recent training as a devoted defender kicks in, as he catches a glimpse of movement out of the corner of his eye. Even more quickly than Guztha can strike, Snokas whirls and grabs Morningstar, spinning her out of harm’s way. Unfortunately for him, that presents his back to Guztha, who carves him up like a turkey.
The dragon swoops in. Flicker is hovering directly in his path, unable to decide if he wants to be eaten or not. It’s a moot point, as the dragon ignores him, knocking him aside as it angles toward the concentration of targets below.
I should get five of them in the blast. That’ll thin out their ranks a bit.
Shivertooth breathes a mighty cone of lightning that travels about twenty feet before impacting the wall of force.
What the...? Oh, crap!
Shivertooth tries to veer to the side but there’s not enough room. CRUNCH! The side of his snout and the base of one wing are crushed against the wall by his own momentum, as Shivertooth comes to a complete halt. With a squeaky finger-on-clean-glass kind of sound, he slides down the wall and lands in a heap on the ground.
Dranko snorts. “You’re an embarrassment to dragons everywhere.”
Kibi placed the wall with enough room beneath its lower edge for human-sized head clearance. Yoba and Ernie (who has drawn Beryn Sur) run forward and attack the felled dragon.
Morningstar’s eyes have gone wide at Snokas’s sudden heroics, or maybe it’s the sight of the shortsword that was seconds ago poking through Snokas’s chest. She cast heal on him.
“Thanks,” gasps Snokas.
“No, thank you!.”
“Don’t mention it.”
Morningstar then quickens a dimensional anchor and nails Guztha, who is surrounded by its tell-tale green glow.
Flicker lands and joins in the attacks on the dragon, while celestial owls hoot and bounce off its scales. Meanwhile Dranko flies down to stand several feet from Guztha, where he trips his opponent with his whip before missing with the follow-through attack. Aravis casts a chain lightning on Guztha, but despite being on the ground he’s still remarkably nimble. He manages to twist his body and actually use Dranko for cover, eluding all damage.
“He’s like the blood fox!” shouts Dranko. “Try magic missile!”
Grey Wolf quickens a true strike and swings Bostock, channeling a greater fireburst though the sword. The sword bites deep, but Guztha manages to avoid the fire damage all together.
“That’s the spirit!” cries Bostock. “Keep at it! He can’t evade forever!”
Kibi quickens a ray of enfeeblement and pegs the dragon, draining a whopping 11 points of strength, then summons a huge earth elemental. But even so weakened, the dragon manages to avoid being grappled by the creature.
Guztha cries out something in a strange tongue. Shivertooth starts to pull himself along the wall of force, slowly. Weakened, with its snout crushed and bleeding, one wing bent at a strange angle, numerous rents in its scaly hide, and burned all over from flame strikes, it can only drag itself thirty feet. But that’s all it needs. It clears the edge of the of the wall of force and casts dispel magic on Guztha. The green glow of the dimensional anchor disappears.
“If he blinks out, we’re killing his ride,” says Grey Wolf.
And that’s what happens. Guztha blends into the shadows and vanishes. The dragon endures a few more attacks – Ernie is unable to grapple it even with his belt of equality, Aravis’s cone of cold does almost no damage to the cold-resistant dragon, and another reciprocal gyre from Grey Wolf is ineffective. Kibi ends up finishing off the beast with an earthbolt that flips the dragon onto its back just as it tries to get airborne again.
Morningstar casts detect thoughts in case Guztha is still nearby, but there’s no sign of his mental signature. Dranko soars upward hoping to spot his enemy, but there’s no sign of his physical self, either. They widen the search, with Morningstar giving Dranko her daylight-imbued shield as he flies in an outward-spiral pattern overhead. Aravis flies around as well, looking for magical auras.
Nothing. Guztha is gone.
Kibi strokes his beard. “I wonder how he knew you two were... what did he call it? Blood-touched?”
“He must have smelled something,” says Dranko.
“And now,” says Grey Wolf. “The Emperor will know that we’re here.”
...to be continued...
Exit, Pursued by a Dragon
It has been over one hundred years since Naloric Skewn slaughtered the elves of the Greatwood and took Kinnet Vulthani as his capital. After razing most of the exquisite elven buildings and cutting down swaths of ancient trees, he ordered the construction of a towering stone fortress which would be his seat of power. Now, high above the surrounding forest, in a stark throne room lacking in the traditional opulence of royalty, the creature Guztha stands humble before his Emperor. Towering above him on a raised throne of obsidian the mighty Naloric, fell ruler of Charagan, takes a sip of wine from a cup carved from an elven skull.
"You smell them, don’t you?” says Naloric.
Guztha is one of a small cadre of servants to whom Naloric has bestowed especial honor and power. Black lesions crawl on his skin, a mark of extraordinary favor. That he is allowed to stand in the same room as Naloric, that Naloric is actually speaking to him, demonstrates his exalted status.
“Yes, my Lord,” says Guztha. “You know that I do. It is faint, but there is no mistake.”
Naloric leans forward in his throne. “They need to brought into the fold, like the others. You know that things can be... confusing... in the beginning.”
Guztha shudders. He remembers.
“I did not expect that there would be any more Blood-touched...” says Naloric, frowning.
Guztha says nothing. If he agrees, he is acknowledging that the Emperor is not all-knowing, which would be a mistake. If he disagrees... well, one does not disagree with the Emperor.
“No matter. Take Shivertooth. He is young and lacks experience in the field. Find these Blood-touched and return them to me by any means necessary. If they resist, kill them and bring back the corpses, as whole as possible.”
Guztha bows his head. “Yes, my Lord.”
“They are near Condor’s Folly, possibly in the company of orcs or halflings. Do not become distracted – the Blood-touched are all that matter. You will have no difficulties locating them. You are brothers, after all.”
Guztha nods and turns to go.
“One more thing. There is something different about these, different from you, different from the others I have... blessed. I don’t know what, but I sense that the difference is important. Do not fail me, Guztha.”
“I will not, my Lord.”
Guztha turns and hurries from the throne room.
* *
All good things must come to and end, and the Company’s stay in Greenshire is no exception. It is nearing sunset on a day almost a week removed from the battle with the orcs, when the bell once again starts ringing a clamorous call to arms.
The Company rush out of the Rollicking Rabbit expecting another invasion of humanoids, but no orcs are in evidence. Many halflings are pointing upward, where a small shape can be seen swooping high over the town. Dranko squints into the dusk and thinks he discerns a dragonish shape, with the speck of a rider upon it.
The flying creature drops and lands abruptly about a quarter mile outside of town, spurring the halflings to muster at Greenshire’s eastern edge. Morningstar casts a telepathic bond that includes the halfling militia leader Torbold, so that the party can keep tabs on what’s going on without making themselves evident to the new arrival.
It’s not long before the heavy thumping of a walking dragon can be heard approaching the town. It looms large in the failing light, a dull yellow winged lizard with dagger teeth and a snaking tail. From Torbold’s description, it’s the same species of dragon as appeared near the end of the Battle of Verdshane. As it reaches the line of stalwart halflings, the dragon’s rider calls out:
“Make way, in the name of the Emperor!”
When Torbold relays that to the Company, there is quick agreement that it’s time for the party to make a hasty getaway. Santo Wilburforce steps to the front of the halfling line and speaks to the newcomer.
“What is your business, sir?
“None of yours,” says the rider. “Make way.”
Morningstar casts wind walk on half the party, while Torbold narrates. The rider has leapt gracefully off the dragon’s back to the ground. He wears a black military uniform.
“We don’t want to call any more attention to your village,” thinks Dranko to Torbold. “If they ask, we’re headed east.” (In fact, they’re heading to Nahalm which is to the south-west.)
A second wind walk gets the remainder of the Company into traveling mode, and they take off at sixty miles per hour, staying as low to the ground as possible. Torbold wishes them luck, and promises to continue to relay what’s happening with the dragon and its rider.
“The guy is asking questions,” thinks Torbold, even as the party starts to put miles between themselves and Greenshire. “I’m not right up front, but I can sort of hear what being said. He seems angry. Yeah, he’s asking about you, all right. I think he means you, anyway. He doesn’t have a description. I hear bits and pieces. He’s asking about... strangers, someone unusual.”
“Interesting,” says Dranko. “He’s not asking about wizards, or people who slaughtered the orcs.”
There’s a pause while Torbold listens intently.
“Somehow he’s figured out more about you. Someone squealed, maybe? Now he’s asking questions more specifically about you. He wants to know more about someone with star fields for eyes.”
“He may be reading minds,” says Dranko.
“That would make sense, given the way he’s asking questions,” says Torbold. “If that’s the case, he’s going to find out a lot about you. Santo’s talking to him. He’s making up some story about you and the orcs. He doesn’t seem to be worried about having his mind read.”
There is a brief flurry of discussion about going back and killing this black-clad soldier, but that would clearly tip off the Emperor, so the plan is quickly discarded.
“Hm,” says Torbold. “The guy seems satisfied. Hold on. I think he believes Santo. Ah. Ok, it sounds like Santo is claiming you arrived with the orcs, and were bad mouthing the Emperor, and he fought you off. The soldier seems sure that you were just here, which is stretching Santo’s story. Hm, he’s walking away. I’ll try to follow, but I don’t want to get too close. He’s not showing any sign of attacking. Ah, stupid dragon. Crushed some rain barrels with his tail. Oops, he’s getting back on the dragon, and is taking off. He must have been satisfied. He’s spiraling up, not in any particular direction. Crap, I’ve lost him in the dusk, couldn’t tell the direction.”
Troubling as this all is, the Company is pleased that the dragon didn’t just destroy the town out of spite. Soon enough they are out over the ocean, flying at top speed toward Nahalm while settling in for a boring five-hour trip. Kibi is especially inclined to grumble, as being a) in the air, and b) above water, is no place for a dwarf. The full moon shines out in an open sky as below them the dark waves undulate gently.
Hours later they reach the northern coast of Nahalm, though there’s no sign of the town of Kynder Hold (not surprising). Even at its fastest a flying dragon would have been left behind long ago, but still there’s a sense of unease among the Company. They fly ten miles further inland before landing and making camp, and set about reviewing their anti-scrying possibilities for the night. Dranko suggests the divination sink, but it’s finally stopped working. Aravis, whom the dragon’s rider seems to have identified by description, will wear an amulet of nondetection.
Coincidentally, just as they start wondering if the dragon will find them (or, more realistically, how long will it take), a dark shape passes in front of the moon high above.
“Crap!” exclaims Dranko.
“That was fast,” adds Flicker.
“We should prepare to fight,” says Aravis, and Dranko agrees.
“Let’s just get this over with.”
Grey Wolf uses a wand to get Aravis flying, while Morningstar makes him invisible. The others start hurriedly casting buff spells. There’s a loud whooshing sound from nearby, and the heavy thud of the dragon landing somewhere out of sight.
A voice comes out of the darkness from the direction of the dragon’s landing.
“Put down your arms. I wish to talk.”
“Ok!” shouts Dranko. “Go ahead and talk!”
Guztha wonders to himself how this will go. These people have some formidable magic abilities, clearly. Where did they come from? Why hadn’t the Emperor known about them before now. Maybe he had, and this is a test for him? Strangest of all, there are many of them, and yet only two are Blood-touched. Perhaps, having grown in power, they have enslaved a cadre of servants.
“I’m going to approach,” says Guztha. “You would be wise not to attack me.”
Aravis responds to that by casting greater arcane sight.
“Is that because of your dragon?” asks Dranko.
“Among other reasons, yes,” says Guztha.
“How’d you find us?” asks Dranko.
Guztha strides into the Company’s clearing. He appears human, just over six-feet tall, a dour and soldierly looking fellow holding a short sword. His skin is olive, and covered with strange dark lesions that crawl across his hands and face.
Kibi affects xorn movement and sinks into the ground. Snokas moves to protect Morningstar while Ernie inches closer to Yoba.
Invisible and hovering above the ground, Aravis peers intently at the soldier with his arcane sight. He has two magical auras upon him – one is allowing him to detect thoughts, and the other is an illusion spell that covers his whole body. He also has a spell-like ability with which Aravis is wholly unfamiliar, and when Aravis concentrates on that ability, he gets a waft of concentrated Evil.
“Drop the illusion,” he says sternly.
Guztha looks up, straight at the invisible Aravis. The lesions on his skin quicken their movement.
“You might want to look into some kind of skin care options,” says Dranko.
Guztha looks away from Aravis and stares intently at Ernie. Then he points, first at Ernie, and then back at Aravis.
“You. And you. You are coming with me. The Emperor very much wishes to speak with you.”
“Well, he knows where we are,” says Dranko. “We can probably fit him in on Friday.”
Guztha was prepared for many things, but this kind of impudence toward the Emperor is simply unthinkable.
“Are you coming willingly or unwillingly?” he asks through clenched teeth.
Aravis and Ernie do start moving towards him, but Guztha holds up his hand.
“Stop. I wish first for you to divest yourself of weapons and magical items.”
“Um....” says Aravis. “No. I don’t think so.”
I figured it would come to this.
“In that case,” says Guztha. “I suppose we’ll figure out how you became Blood-touched in the post-mortem.”
And with that, the hostilities begin. Grey Wolf pegs Guztha with an enervation that drains away a small amount of strength. Guztha hardly seems to notice, as he focuses his attention on Aravis. The lesions on Guztha’s face start to squirm riotously, and Aravis feels a palpable force of Evil strike him, similar to that of the Evil Book in Mokad’s library, and more recently from the black goo in Het Branoi.
Pustules rise and burst all over Aravis’s skin, and he grimaces in pain and disgust. And before anyone can react, Guztha takes a quick step into the shadows and melts away.
Aravis dimension doors about fifty feet up and a couple hundred feet in the direction of where the dragon landed. He sees that dragon is still a good sixty feet further, and flapping its wings, preparing to take to the air.
Yoba casts protection from evil on Ernie, while Kibi starts summoning some celestial owls. Aravis then reports that the dragon has gone airborne.
Ernie, also flying, rises upward and spots the dark shape of the dragon in flight. He casts a blade barrier directly in the dragon’s space, but as Aravis sees from his vantage, the dragon is entirely unaffected by it.
Morningstar follows this with a darkburst on the dragon, but as she’s several hundred feet away, she cannot tell if it had any effect.
“Hey Flicker,” says Dranko. “Jump on my back.”
Flicker does so, after which Dranko flies upward, straight toward the dragon.
“What are you doing?” asks Flicker nervously. “Are you mad? We’re going to end up in its mouth!”
“Actually, if this works, we’ll end up in his belly.”
“WHAT?!”
Aravis sees that the rider has somehow gotten back onto the dragon, which is circling around toward the majority of the party.
How convenient.
He casts maze. On the dragon. The huge lizard vanishes from under the rider, and Guztha plummets a hundred feet into the scrub below. Grey Wolf and Yoba take off in that direction.
“Stay with me,” says Dranko to Flicker. “We have to get eaten when that thing returns.”
Kibi’s celestial owls arrive but there’s no enemy in sight. Kibi points in the direction of where Guztha fell, and the owls swoop over. Kibi dimension doors over there as well, making his best guess as to the landing spot of the dragon rider. Aravis flies over the general area but can’t spot Guztha in the moonlight.
When Kibi appears, he finds that the he didn’t take the hilly terrain into account, and drops ten feet to the ground. Before he can get up, he sees a humanoid shape emerge from the shadows and stand over him. Guztha feints with his short sword, Kibi flinches predictably, and Guztha uses the opportunity to land a perfect sneak attack.
The dragon reappears in the air, only seconds after his trip into the maze. Ernie flies forward and pegs the dragon with a flame strike. Morningstar does likewise, and follows it up with a quickened searing darkness. Smoke rises from the dragon’s body. Snokas fires his bow up at the dragon but his arrows mostly bounce off its hide.
“Flicker,” says Dranko. “I want you to look horrified, like you don’t want to be eaten.”
“I AM horrified!” shouts Flicker. “For just that reason! You’re gonna share the good part of this plan with me at some point, right?”
“Sure,” says Dranko. “We’re gonna fly into its mouth. It’s gonna swallow us. When we’re good and deep in its guts, I’m going to activate Step’s immovable rod, and you’re going use your cape to dim door us out of there.”
Flicker gulps, wonders if Dranko has taken “chewing” into account as part of the plan, and sees that they’re now at dragon-mouth level.
Aravis, alerted to Guztha’s presence by Kibi’s cry of pain, casts reverse gravity, with the lower bound of the effect a few feet off the ground. This means that Guztha is caught in the effect, but the prone Kibi is not. Guztha doesn’t bother to grab on to anything, but falls back up into the air. He’s like an evil yo-yo. At the top of the gravity column he tumbles gracefully into a fighting stance, upside-down, hovering.
Grey Wolf casts reciprocal gyre on Guztha, who doesn’t even flinch. (Which is probably an indication that he doesn’t have too many spells active upon his person.) Kibi casts a quickened coldfire straight up at the rider and dragon both, follows it up with an empowered version of the same, then quickly sinks back into the ground.
Guztha can't hide his worry. These people are even more powerful than he had guesed at first. Naloric will not be pleased if he returns empty-handed, but he should prepare for escape just in case. For now, though, the fight is not over. Shivertooth has never been in a combat like this before, but he should still be a force to be reckoned with. And at this very moment, there are better places for him to be...
Aravis sees the rider melt into the shadows again. He think his foe is using an effect like dimension door, but he doesn’t recognize the specific ability.
Shivertooth surveys the battlefield, and recalls some of his battle lessons. Your greatest advantage is flight. Your opponents will be on the ground, and you will be in the air. From there, your breath, your greatest weapon, can be used to its best advantage. If one foe takes flight, don’t waste time with it, but get it back on the ground if you can. Get your enemies clustered close, breathe, and fly away. Repeat until they’re dead. If they scatter, try picking one up, flying high, and dropping them.
To Dranko’s great frustration, the dragon doesn’t try to eat him. Instead it casts dispel magic, ending Dranko’s flight spell and sending him and Flicker wafting downward (thanks to a feather fall item).
“Change of plans,” says Dranko as they land. “Here, take this.”
He presses the immovable rod into Flicker’s hand.
“But...”
“You can still fly, with your armor. Get yourself eaten, use the rod, and dim door to safety.”
“But...”
“No time to waste! Get going!”
Flicker sighs, activates the flying ability of his celestial armor, and takes off.
The dragon endures another pair of flame strikes from Morningstar and Ernie, cast at long range. Most of the others look about for the rider but see nothing, while Flicker flies toward Shivertooth. Aravis sees that the Dragon has performed a wingover maneuver and is now headed back toward them. He moves a bit and targets the dragon with a prismatic spray that sears the target with acid.
Kibi is underground, but Scree is scouting, poking a sapphire eye up through the ground.
“Scree, what’s the dragon doing?”
“Er... flying?”
“Can you be more specific?”
“Flying toward us, looks like. Coming in a bit low. I can’t see any details – in this light the dragon looks like a silhouette. A bunch of folks are all standing near each other above us, and the dragon’s headed toward them.”
“Perfect,” says Kibi. He pops up out of the ground and casts a wide wall of force directly in the dragon’s path.
Snokas and Morningstar are standing back to back, scanning the area for the elusive dragon-rider. Suddenly Guztha is standing right in front of Morningstar, sword poised to strike. Snokas’s recent training as a devoted defender kicks in, as he catches a glimpse of movement out of the corner of his eye. Even more quickly than Guztha can strike, Snokas whirls and grabs Morningstar, spinning her out of harm’s way. Unfortunately for him, that presents his back to Guztha, who carves him up like a turkey.
The dragon swoops in. Flicker is hovering directly in his path, unable to decide if he wants to be eaten or not. It’s a moot point, as the dragon ignores him, knocking him aside as it angles toward the concentration of targets below.
I should get five of them in the blast. That’ll thin out their ranks a bit.
Shivertooth breathes a mighty cone of lightning that travels about twenty feet before impacting the wall of force.
What the...? Oh, crap!
Shivertooth tries to veer to the side but there’s not enough room. CRUNCH! The side of his snout and the base of one wing are crushed against the wall by his own momentum, as Shivertooth comes to a complete halt. With a squeaky finger-on-clean-glass kind of sound, he slides down the wall and lands in a heap on the ground.
Dranko snorts. “You’re an embarrassment to dragons everywhere.”
Kibi placed the wall with enough room beneath its lower edge for human-sized head clearance. Yoba and Ernie (who has drawn Beryn Sur) run forward and attack the felled dragon.
Morningstar’s eyes have gone wide at Snokas’s sudden heroics, or maybe it’s the sight of the shortsword that was seconds ago poking through Snokas’s chest. She cast heal on him.
“Thanks,” gasps Snokas.
“No, thank you!.”
“Don’t mention it.”
Morningstar then quickens a dimensional anchor and nails Guztha, who is surrounded by its tell-tale green glow.
Flicker lands and joins in the attacks on the dragon, while celestial owls hoot and bounce off its scales. Meanwhile Dranko flies down to stand several feet from Guztha, where he trips his opponent with his whip before missing with the follow-through attack. Aravis casts a chain lightning on Guztha, but despite being on the ground he’s still remarkably nimble. He manages to twist his body and actually use Dranko for cover, eluding all damage.
“He’s like the blood fox!” shouts Dranko. “Try magic missile!”
Grey Wolf quickens a true strike and swings Bostock, channeling a greater fireburst though the sword. The sword bites deep, but Guztha manages to avoid the fire damage all together.
“That’s the spirit!” cries Bostock. “Keep at it! He can’t evade forever!”
Kibi quickens a ray of enfeeblement and pegs the dragon, draining a whopping 11 points of strength, then summons a huge earth elemental. But even so weakened, the dragon manages to avoid being grappled by the creature.
Guztha cries out something in a strange tongue. Shivertooth starts to pull himself along the wall of force, slowly. Weakened, with its snout crushed and bleeding, one wing bent at a strange angle, numerous rents in its scaly hide, and burned all over from flame strikes, it can only drag itself thirty feet. But that’s all it needs. It clears the edge of the of the wall of force and casts dispel magic on Guztha. The green glow of the dimensional anchor disappears.
“If he blinks out, we’re killing his ride,” says Grey Wolf.
And that’s what happens. Guztha blends into the shadows and vanishes. The dragon endures a few more attacks – Ernie is unable to grapple it even with his belt of equality, Aravis’s cone of cold does almost no damage to the cold-resistant dragon, and another reciprocal gyre from Grey Wolf is ineffective. Kibi ends up finishing off the beast with an earthbolt that flips the dragon onto its back just as it tries to get airborne again.
Morningstar casts detect thoughts in case Guztha is still nearby, but there’s no sign of his mental signature. Dranko soars upward hoping to spot his enemy, but there’s no sign of his physical self, either. They widen the search, with Morningstar giving Dranko her daylight-imbued shield as he flies in an outward-spiral pattern overhead. Aravis flies around as well, looking for magical auras.
Nothing. Guztha is gone.
Kibi strokes his beard. “I wonder how he knew you two were... what did he call it? Blood-touched?”
“He must have smelled something,” says Dranko.
“And now,” says Grey Wolf. “The Emperor will know that we’re here.”
...to be continued...
Last edited:
LightPhoenix
First Post
I kinda feel bad for Shivertooth.
...
What?
...
What?
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