Broccli_Head
Explorer
that's too funny. way to go Mole!
Shackled City Epic: "Vengeance" (story concluded)
- Thread starter Lazybones
- Start date
Solarious
Explorer
Well, Fallen Celestial, but yes. And this Solar ain't Ardimarchus.monboesen said:Isn't Ardimarchus a prisoned (and insane) Celestial
![:]](http://www.enworld.org/forum/images/smilies/devious.png "Devious :]")
In fact, they won't be able to get Ardimarchus out of his cage in the first place.
I wonder what the effects of having his cage fall out from the middle/top of Skullrot onto a flying Dark Myrakul though... Ideas?
Neverwinter Knight
First Post
Lucky for the heros, it's *just* a planetar...Solarious said:Well, Fallen Celestial, but yes. And this Solar ain't Ardimarchus.
The artifact should be able to get through his damage reduction...Solarious said:
Lazybones
Adventurer
Chapter 439
They were nearly done, Arun thought, as another blow from the demonflesh golem slammed into his shield. He saw it twist, its tail coming around at his face, but he could not move swiftly enough, not now, with his body stiffened by the wiltings it had absorbed, blackened by fire, battered by the hits he’d taken from the golem. He’d called upon Moradin’s power to bolster him, but even so he knew he could not take more than another hit or two. The golem’s tail struck him square on the front of the helmet, driving him back, his vision full of exploding stars. But some stubborn core kept him going, demanding that the next hit, not this one, would be the one to take him out.
“Arun!” Dana cried, rushing back out from cover, toward him. The paladin knew that she offered hope, healing magic that could keep him going longer, fighting on… or succor for Beorna, restoring her to the battle, drawing her back from the brink.
He thought he could see the blue glow forming around her hands, when a vrock demon dove down from above and into her, sending both rolling back in a tumble of arms and legs and wings.
He did all he could do. He attacked. He could only reach the lower half of the golem’s body with his sword, and his attacks were feeble—he could almost sense its anticipation, as the paladin’s blows slid off of its thick legs. The massive fists came up. There was no way he could resist them, no way he could take another hit…
“Have faith,” came a voice from behind him.
Despite himself he started, and even as he recognized Cal’s voice a billowing cloud of gray smoke swept out over him, momentarily obscuring everything in its folds. But then the leading edge had passed, and he realized that it was just a figment, concealing the dwarves and the gnome archmage, lingering back outside of the reach of the golem.
“Get her, quickly!” he urged, directing the illusion. Arun could dimly hear his own voice, and the loud clatter of the golem’s movements, and realized that the smoke had been only part of the gnome’s distraction. The paladin took up Beorna, and half-carried, half-dragged her with the gnome into the relative shelter of the golem lab.
Cal thrust a potion into the dwarf's hands. “Heal her… we haven’t got much time.” He immediately began spellcasting again, drawing upon what was left of his magic.
Dana screamed as the vrock tore into her with its talons, feeling her skin burn as its spores tunneled into her flesh. The demon was tougher than she was, but she had anticipated close-quarters combat and had infused herself with divine power. Thus fortified, she was able to slide out of the vrock’s grasp. She immediately shot off through the doorway back to the entry foyer, calling upon the power of her winged boots to carry her swiftly away.
The vrock, letting out an eager screech, was quick to follow.
The Dark Myrakul was an ageless creature, undead for so long that it could barely recall the vicissitudes of mortal life. But that part of it that could still feel was growing impatient with these enemies who so tenaciously fought on, against the odds that were so stacked against them. They had destroyed Slouva and its golems, but that was no great matter; minions could always be replaced. The annis had been plotting to supplant it in any case, and probably would have had to been removed at some point anyway. But these enemies had intruded upon its citadel, had undermined the security of its charge. And for that if nothing else, they would experience torments…
Impatience became annoyance as the dwarves were evacuated out of the reach of its mighty golem, drawn away by a simple figment. The construct lunged after the two illusory dwarves, and the lich had to admire the complexity in the hastily-crafted spell; the figments were just too swift, moving out of its reach, while remaining close enough to lure the golem further after them across the chamber. A sentient being would have recognized the illogic in the scene, but the golem, intent only upon destruction, was fooled.
Waving a hand, the Dark Myrakul dispelled the major image.
Sensing movement, the lichfiend turned to see that the genasi had reappeared at one of the balconies, holding a greatsword now, burning—and freezing—in an unusual combination of elemental powers. The mortal warrior had healed himself somewhat, but even as he stepped forward and lifted into the air to return to the fray the Dark Myrakul hit him with a destruction that enveloped him in black fire, blasting him backward to fall unmoving to the ground.
Two, the Myrakul thought.
A loud cry—familiar—drew the undead ancient’s attention back around, to yet another gallery. It saw a diminutive form charging toward the balcony—the gnome rogue, coming for… a suicide attack? The gnome leapt for the railing of the balcony, too soon to clear it, it seemed. But that was her intent, as a moment later she twisted her body as she hit the floor and slid between the metal bars that supported the railing, coming to a halt as she dangled over the edge of the gallery, placing herself in a clearly unenviable and vulnerable position.
The reason for her odd behavior became obvious a moment later as a charging form appeared behind her from the shadowy depths of the gallery. The insane planetar caught sight of the Dark Myrakul and leapt at it, madness radiating from him in his gaze, his movements, and the nonstop screaming that filled the air around him. He struck the antilife shell of the lichfiend and battered against it, slamming it with his fists in a violent but useless gesture.
The lichfiend calmly blasted the angel with another destruction, surrounding it with unholy fire. But the fallen celestial was beyond mere pain, and some small part of his mind whispered of powers never lost. With another cry he dispelled the aura keeping it at bay, along with a few of the lich’s other wards, although most of its spells remained intact. The angel eagerly dove at its tormenter, slamming at its skeletal body with desperate strength. Several ribs snapped as he blasted the lichfiend with a powerful punch. For a moment it looked like the ancient undead priest would be overcome by the sheer violence of the attack, but the fallen celestial’s assault faltered a moment later as the Dark Myrakul swept its scythe up in a sudden arc, intersecting the angel’s body with a red flash. The angel fell back and down, its head separating from his body as both plummeted sixty feet to splatter on the hard stone below.
Holy arrows slammed into the lichfiend from below, as Arun and Beorna, recently restored at least to partial health, reappeared from below and opened fire. Again they were largely ineffective, although this time it was Beorna who scored a lucky hit, penetrating the undead priest’s defenses with an arrow that glanced off of its oblong skull. The demonflesh golem, alone and unoccupied at the far end of the chamber, immediately turned and lumbered toward them, and the dwarves retreated into the room, forcing the golem to bend low and attempt to squeeze through the doorway after them.
The Dark Myrakul’s summoned vrock returned via the eastern arch, sans the priestess it had chased out a few moments before. With the golem fully occupying the doorway to the laboratory where the dwarves had taken refuge, it spotted an easier prey in the form of Mole, and its flew toward her as the gnome flipped back up over the railing, running back into the gallery with the winged demon following.
The Dark Myrakul let it handle the retreating gnome, instead taking advantage of the momentary lull to refresh the magical defenses that protected it. The planetar had brought down its spell immunity, but with the enemy spellcasters having yielded the battlefield, it did not look like it would need that protection… and in any case its spell resistance was still potent.
A crash that reverberated through the hollow spire drew its attention upward. The sound had originated in That Place That Must Be Guarded At All Costs, the focal point of its duty in this place, the prison that held Skullrot’s most powerful “guest”. Immediately the lichfiend launched straight up into the air, ascending the shaft, casting ahead with all of its unnatural senses
A slender form appeared high above, knifing through the air as it plummeted down the central shaft of Skullrot toward the Dark Myrakul, much as the demonflesh golem had just a few moments earlier. But this time the newcomer was much smaller, smoother, diving with fists extended above her head straight toward the undead priest. It was Dana, and her body seemed to glow as she cut through the darkness. The lichfiend reflexively adjusted its position and hurled a destructive spell at her, but both were ineffective; she shot right through its final destruction, fighting through the agony of the black fire, and using her boots she altered her course to match the Dark Myrakul’s.
The lichfiend lacked time to cast another spell, but it brought its vorpal scythe up to intersect the priestess’s descending form. They struck at the same instant, the undead priest stabbing its weapon deep into the woman’s body even as her fists, empowered with a heal spell, drove into its skull. With its greater spell immunity stripped away the full power of Selûne’s divine light tore through its body, bathing the interior of the citadel with the soft life-affirming glow of gentle moonlight. For a few brief moments the suffering of the asylum’s inmates eased, and their screams faded to a silence that seemed wholly peaceful.
The two combatants drifted downward in a tangle of black robes and shattered bone. Half of the lichfiend’s skull had been blasted away, and blood poured from the terrible wound in Dana’s chest opened by the Dark Myrakul’s scythe. Dana fought a surge of pain and madness that radiated out from the body of the undead ancient, but could not resist a terrible feeling of horror that crawled over her flesh as the lichfiend’s ruined skull twisted, fixing her with a black gaze that radiated still from the ruined hollow.
I am not finished with you, Dana Ilgarten! came a voice, and with a terrible realization she knew that it was not coming from the Dark Myrakul, but from someplace… else.
But in the here and now, bony claws locked around her throat, binding the two of them together. Poison spread into her through that touch, poison and madness and death. Dana screamed and unleashed the power of Selûne through that link, countering its fell darkness with pure healing energy.
The two priests, undead and mortal, crashed into the ground in an explosion of bone and blood and black fire and white light.
They were nearly done, Arun thought, as another blow from the demonflesh golem slammed into his shield. He saw it twist, its tail coming around at his face, but he could not move swiftly enough, not now, with his body stiffened by the wiltings it had absorbed, blackened by fire, battered by the hits he’d taken from the golem. He’d called upon Moradin’s power to bolster him, but even so he knew he could not take more than another hit or two. The golem’s tail struck him square on the front of the helmet, driving him back, his vision full of exploding stars. But some stubborn core kept him going, demanding that the next hit, not this one, would be the one to take him out.
“Arun!” Dana cried, rushing back out from cover, toward him. The paladin knew that she offered hope, healing magic that could keep him going longer, fighting on… or succor for Beorna, restoring her to the battle, drawing her back from the brink.
He thought he could see the blue glow forming around her hands, when a vrock demon dove down from above and into her, sending both rolling back in a tumble of arms and legs and wings.
He did all he could do. He attacked. He could only reach the lower half of the golem’s body with his sword, and his attacks were feeble—he could almost sense its anticipation, as the paladin’s blows slid off of its thick legs. The massive fists came up. There was no way he could resist them, no way he could take another hit…
“Have faith,” came a voice from behind him.
Despite himself he started, and even as he recognized Cal’s voice a billowing cloud of gray smoke swept out over him, momentarily obscuring everything in its folds. But then the leading edge had passed, and he realized that it was just a figment, concealing the dwarves and the gnome archmage, lingering back outside of the reach of the golem.
“Get her, quickly!” he urged, directing the illusion. Arun could dimly hear his own voice, and the loud clatter of the golem’s movements, and realized that the smoke had been only part of the gnome’s distraction. The paladin took up Beorna, and half-carried, half-dragged her with the gnome into the relative shelter of the golem lab.
Cal thrust a potion into the dwarf's hands. “Heal her… we haven’t got much time.” He immediately began spellcasting again, drawing upon what was left of his magic.
Dana screamed as the vrock tore into her with its talons, feeling her skin burn as its spores tunneled into her flesh. The demon was tougher than she was, but she had anticipated close-quarters combat and had infused herself with divine power. Thus fortified, she was able to slide out of the vrock’s grasp. She immediately shot off through the doorway back to the entry foyer, calling upon the power of her winged boots to carry her swiftly away.
The vrock, letting out an eager screech, was quick to follow.
The Dark Myrakul was an ageless creature, undead for so long that it could barely recall the vicissitudes of mortal life. But that part of it that could still feel was growing impatient with these enemies who so tenaciously fought on, against the odds that were so stacked against them. They had destroyed Slouva and its golems, but that was no great matter; minions could always be replaced. The annis had been plotting to supplant it in any case, and probably would have had to been removed at some point anyway. But these enemies had intruded upon its citadel, had undermined the security of its charge. And for that if nothing else, they would experience torments…
Impatience became annoyance as the dwarves were evacuated out of the reach of its mighty golem, drawn away by a simple figment. The construct lunged after the two illusory dwarves, and the lich had to admire the complexity in the hastily-crafted spell; the figments were just too swift, moving out of its reach, while remaining close enough to lure the golem further after them across the chamber. A sentient being would have recognized the illogic in the scene, but the golem, intent only upon destruction, was fooled.
Waving a hand, the Dark Myrakul dispelled the major image.
Sensing movement, the lichfiend turned to see that the genasi had reappeared at one of the balconies, holding a greatsword now, burning—and freezing—in an unusual combination of elemental powers. The mortal warrior had healed himself somewhat, but even as he stepped forward and lifted into the air to return to the fray the Dark Myrakul hit him with a destruction that enveloped him in black fire, blasting him backward to fall unmoving to the ground.
Two, the Myrakul thought.
A loud cry—familiar—drew the undead ancient’s attention back around, to yet another gallery. It saw a diminutive form charging toward the balcony—the gnome rogue, coming for… a suicide attack? The gnome leapt for the railing of the balcony, too soon to clear it, it seemed. But that was her intent, as a moment later she twisted her body as she hit the floor and slid between the metal bars that supported the railing, coming to a halt as she dangled over the edge of the gallery, placing herself in a clearly unenviable and vulnerable position.
The reason for her odd behavior became obvious a moment later as a charging form appeared behind her from the shadowy depths of the gallery. The insane planetar caught sight of the Dark Myrakul and leapt at it, madness radiating from him in his gaze, his movements, and the nonstop screaming that filled the air around him. He struck the antilife shell of the lichfiend and battered against it, slamming it with his fists in a violent but useless gesture.
The lichfiend calmly blasted the angel with another destruction, surrounding it with unholy fire. But the fallen celestial was beyond mere pain, and some small part of his mind whispered of powers never lost. With another cry he dispelled the aura keeping it at bay, along with a few of the lich’s other wards, although most of its spells remained intact. The angel eagerly dove at its tormenter, slamming at its skeletal body with desperate strength. Several ribs snapped as he blasted the lichfiend with a powerful punch. For a moment it looked like the ancient undead priest would be overcome by the sheer violence of the attack, but the fallen celestial’s assault faltered a moment later as the Dark Myrakul swept its scythe up in a sudden arc, intersecting the angel’s body with a red flash. The angel fell back and down, its head separating from his body as both plummeted sixty feet to splatter on the hard stone below.
Holy arrows slammed into the lichfiend from below, as Arun and Beorna, recently restored at least to partial health, reappeared from below and opened fire. Again they were largely ineffective, although this time it was Beorna who scored a lucky hit, penetrating the undead priest’s defenses with an arrow that glanced off of its oblong skull. The demonflesh golem, alone and unoccupied at the far end of the chamber, immediately turned and lumbered toward them, and the dwarves retreated into the room, forcing the golem to bend low and attempt to squeeze through the doorway after them.
The Dark Myrakul’s summoned vrock returned via the eastern arch, sans the priestess it had chased out a few moments before. With the golem fully occupying the doorway to the laboratory where the dwarves had taken refuge, it spotted an easier prey in the form of Mole, and its flew toward her as the gnome flipped back up over the railing, running back into the gallery with the winged demon following.
The Dark Myrakul let it handle the retreating gnome, instead taking advantage of the momentary lull to refresh the magical defenses that protected it. The planetar had brought down its spell immunity, but with the enemy spellcasters having yielded the battlefield, it did not look like it would need that protection… and in any case its spell resistance was still potent.
A crash that reverberated through the hollow spire drew its attention upward. The sound had originated in That Place That Must Be Guarded At All Costs, the focal point of its duty in this place, the prison that held Skullrot’s most powerful “guest”. Immediately the lichfiend launched straight up into the air, ascending the shaft, casting ahead with all of its unnatural senses
A slender form appeared high above, knifing through the air as it plummeted down the central shaft of Skullrot toward the Dark Myrakul, much as the demonflesh golem had just a few moments earlier. But this time the newcomer was much smaller, smoother, diving with fists extended above her head straight toward the undead priest. It was Dana, and her body seemed to glow as she cut through the darkness. The lichfiend reflexively adjusted its position and hurled a destructive spell at her, but both were ineffective; she shot right through its final destruction, fighting through the agony of the black fire, and using her boots she altered her course to match the Dark Myrakul’s.
The lichfiend lacked time to cast another spell, but it brought its vorpal scythe up to intersect the priestess’s descending form. They struck at the same instant, the undead priest stabbing its weapon deep into the woman’s body even as her fists, empowered with a heal spell, drove into its skull. With its greater spell immunity stripped away the full power of Selûne’s divine light tore through its body, bathing the interior of the citadel with the soft life-affirming glow of gentle moonlight. For a few brief moments the suffering of the asylum’s inmates eased, and their screams faded to a silence that seemed wholly peaceful.
The two combatants drifted downward in a tangle of black robes and shattered bone. Half of the lichfiend’s skull had been blasted away, and blood poured from the terrible wound in Dana’s chest opened by the Dark Myrakul’s scythe. Dana fought a surge of pain and madness that radiated out from the body of the undead ancient, but could not resist a terrible feeling of horror that crawled over her flesh as the lichfiend’s ruined skull twisted, fixing her with a black gaze that radiated still from the ruined hollow.
I am not finished with you, Dana Ilgarten! came a voice, and with a terrible realization she knew that it was not coming from the Dark Myrakul, but from someplace… else.
But in the here and now, bony claws locked around her throat, binding the two of them together. Poison spread into her through that touch, poison and madness and death. Dana screamed and unleashed the power of Selûne through that link, countering its fell darkness with pure healing energy.
The two priests, undead and mortal, crashed into the ground in an explosion of bone and blood and black fire and white light.
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Solarious
Explorer
Mnn. I love the imagery. It reminds of of that midair combat in the Spiderman 2 movie... two opponents grappled with each other, each whacking the other with vicious blows... or in this case, fiendlich touch attacks and divine power. It naturally involves pain, so I wholeheartedly endorse it.
However, Aurn has somehow managed to survive, while Lok was burniated into smithereens by a Destruction spell. Bah.
Lookin' forward to Wensday's update, where we try to figure out what happens when the heroes can't do a darn thing about Adimarchus.
Oh, and Mole helped out by unleashing a mad fallen Planetar on Dark Myrukal. Whee! Yay for gnome rouges!
However, Aurn has somehow managed to survive, while Lok was burniated into smithereens by a Destruction spell. Bah.
Lookin' forward to Wensday's update, where we try to figure out what happens when the heroes can't do a darn thing about Adimarchus.
Oh, and Mole helped out by unleashing a mad fallen Planetar on Dark Myrukal. Whee! Yay for gnome rouges!
Neverwinter Knight
First Post
Hey Solarious, you cheer the gnome and the dwarf? Miracles do happen...
This chapter rocks! Wow! Powerful stuff. Only one little thing:
Cal thrust a potion into the genasi’s hands. It's Arun in this scene, not Lok.
This chapter rocks! Wow! Powerful stuff. Only one little thing:
Cal thrust a potion into the genasi’s hands. It's Arun in this scene, not Lok.
I'm just waiting for Arun to die, that's all.
Lazybones
Adventurer
Ah, I can't keep all these characters straight... Thanks for the heads-up, fixed it.Neverwinter Knight said:Hey Solarious, you cheer the gnome and the dwarf? Miracles do happen...
This chapter rocks! Wow! Powerful stuff. Only one little thing:
Cal thrust a potion into the genasi’s hands. It's Arun in this scene, not Lok.
My summer course is over, and I've picked up writing at my usual fevered pace. While 3 posts/week is working well for the moment, I may push it back to 5x/week once I have a bit more material stored up.
So update tomorrow!
LB
Lazybones
Adventurer
Chapter 440
“Dana.”
The voice drew at her across a great gulf. She was floating in darkness, but it was calm, reassuring, not the shadows that filled the place where the voice originated. She did not want to go back there, but the voice was insistent.
“Dana. Come back to us… we need you.”
She wanted to turn away, but could not. She was brought back across the boundary, back into a light that was blinding, painful. She lifted her eyes to shield them, and realized that she could do so; she’d regained physical sensation and awareness of her body without realizing it. Vision came somewhat slower, as she gradually recognized the forms that hovered over her.
“Wha… what happened?” she managed to ask. Her throat felt as dry as the sands of Anauroch.
“Drink this,” Cal commanded, offering her a waterskin. The water tasted amazingly good, but her throat was unable to handle it all, and she choked.
“Careful, slowly,” Cal said, easing her head up enough so that she could recover, before offering her the skin again. She couldn’t quite get up, not yet.
“What happened?” she repeated.
“You took out the lich,” Cal said. “It was really quite dramatic.”
“I remember that,” she said. “If by ‘dramatic’ you mean ‘crazy’. What happened after that… is everyone all right?”
“Dannel is dead,” the gnome said. “Lok nearly joined him, but he stabilized at death’s door. Fortunate that he’s as tough as he is.”
Dana turned her head—it took some effort—and looked around. They were still on the ground floor of the prison. She saw that the door and a big part of the surrounding wall leading to the golem lab had been torn away.
“Arun and Beorna took out the demonflesh golem,” Cal said. “I burned an entire healing wand and most of my remaining buffs keeping them standing, but they did all the hard work themselves. They also killed the vrock that the lich had summoned; Mole was able to keep it busy long enough for them to come and help. I saw it chase you out; when it came back without you, I’d feared…”
“As soon as I cleared the outer doors I dimension doored up to the top of the citadel,” she explained. “Once there I used my adamantine nunchaku to batter a small opening in the wall, enough to just slip through. There’s a huge chamber at the top of the spire; somebody’s up in a cage up there, but I didn’t get a good look.”
Cal nodded; he had a good idea of who it was, but they had more immediate concerns at the moment.
“Help me up,” Dana said.
“You’ve taken a heavy beating—not just physically, but mentally and spiritually. You should take it slowly…”
“Help me up,” she repeated, in a way that did not brook disagreement. Sighing, the gnome complied. Her body was responding to her commands, although she felt more than a bit unsteady. She called upon Selûne’s power and cast a cure serious wounds spell upon herself. It helped, some, although Cal was right; she’d been battered in ways beyond the power of a simple healing spell to resolve. In particular, that dark voice that had spoken in her mind, at that last moment…
“Dana, what is it?”
“I’m all right,” she said. “Where are the others?”
“They are helping Lok. Ah, look, there they are. Come on, I think he’ll need what healing we have left.”
They gathered together again, surrounded by the debris of battle and the remains of their enemies. The mad cries of the imprisoned had resumed at their full strength, and the weary companions felt oppressed by the aura of the place, somehow stronger now that they had overcome its guardians.
“Let’s get out of here,” Mole said. They’d done for Dannel what they could, gathering his possessions and wrapping his body as they’d done for Benzan, putting what was left of the elf into one of their bags of holding.
“We are not finished here,” Beorna said.
“We have little strength left in reserve, Beorna,” Cal said. “Adimarchus would be too much for us, in our current state.”
“Even at full strength, that might be the case,” Lok noted.
“There is another thing to consider,” Arun said. “Assuming that the lich was the final guardian, then Adimarchus’s prison is now without defenders. What would stop any of the Cagewrights from entering this place and releasing him?”
Cal frowned. “We don’t even know how to release him.”
“If anyone has that knowledge, it would be his servants,” Lok said.
“I agree that retreat may be necessary,” Beorna said. “But I would first look upon the one responsible for Jenya’s death, and all of the suffering unleashed upon the good people of Cauldron.”
Cal looked up into the great shaft that formed the interior of Skullrot. The heights above them were lost in darkness, but the spire had been where the lich had come from, and its deadly golem.
“Come on then,” he said, starting toward the nearest stair.
Slowly, they began to ascend.
“Dana.”
The voice drew at her across a great gulf. She was floating in darkness, but it was calm, reassuring, not the shadows that filled the place where the voice originated. She did not want to go back there, but the voice was insistent.
“Dana. Come back to us… we need you.”
She wanted to turn away, but could not. She was brought back across the boundary, back into a light that was blinding, painful. She lifted her eyes to shield them, and realized that she could do so; she’d regained physical sensation and awareness of her body without realizing it. Vision came somewhat slower, as she gradually recognized the forms that hovered over her.
“Wha… what happened?” she managed to ask. Her throat felt as dry as the sands of Anauroch.
“Drink this,” Cal commanded, offering her a waterskin. The water tasted amazingly good, but her throat was unable to handle it all, and she choked.
“Careful, slowly,” Cal said, easing her head up enough so that she could recover, before offering her the skin again. She couldn’t quite get up, not yet.
“What happened?” she repeated.
“You took out the lich,” Cal said. “It was really quite dramatic.”
“I remember that,” she said. “If by ‘dramatic’ you mean ‘crazy’. What happened after that… is everyone all right?”
“Dannel is dead,” the gnome said. “Lok nearly joined him, but he stabilized at death’s door. Fortunate that he’s as tough as he is.”
Dana turned her head—it took some effort—and looked around. They were still on the ground floor of the prison. She saw that the door and a big part of the surrounding wall leading to the golem lab had been torn away.
“Arun and Beorna took out the demonflesh golem,” Cal said. “I burned an entire healing wand and most of my remaining buffs keeping them standing, but they did all the hard work themselves. They also killed the vrock that the lich had summoned; Mole was able to keep it busy long enough for them to come and help. I saw it chase you out; when it came back without you, I’d feared…”
“As soon as I cleared the outer doors I dimension doored up to the top of the citadel,” she explained. “Once there I used my adamantine nunchaku to batter a small opening in the wall, enough to just slip through. There’s a huge chamber at the top of the spire; somebody’s up in a cage up there, but I didn’t get a good look.”
Cal nodded; he had a good idea of who it was, but they had more immediate concerns at the moment.
“Help me up,” Dana said.
“You’ve taken a heavy beating—not just physically, but mentally and spiritually. You should take it slowly…”
“Help me up,” she repeated, in a way that did not brook disagreement. Sighing, the gnome complied. Her body was responding to her commands, although she felt more than a bit unsteady. She called upon Selûne’s power and cast a cure serious wounds spell upon herself. It helped, some, although Cal was right; she’d been battered in ways beyond the power of a simple healing spell to resolve. In particular, that dark voice that had spoken in her mind, at that last moment…
“Dana, what is it?”
“I’m all right,” she said. “Where are the others?”
“They are helping Lok. Ah, look, there they are. Come on, I think he’ll need what healing we have left.”
They gathered together again, surrounded by the debris of battle and the remains of their enemies. The mad cries of the imprisoned had resumed at their full strength, and the weary companions felt oppressed by the aura of the place, somehow stronger now that they had overcome its guardians.
“Let’s get out of here,” Mole said. They’d done for Dannel what they could, gathering his possessions and wrapping his body as they’d done for Benzan, putting what was left of the elf into one of their bags of holding.
“We are not finished here,” Beorna said.
“We have little strength left in reserve, Beorna,” Cal said. “Adimarchus would be too much for us, in our current state.”
“Even at full strength, that might be the case,” Lok noted.
“There is another thing to consider,” Arun said. “Assuming that the lich was the final guardian, then Adimarchus’s prison is now without defenders. What would stop any of the Cagewrights from entering this place and releasing him?”
Cal frowned. “We don’t even know how to release him.”
“If anyone has that knowledge, it would be his servants,” Lok said.
“I agree that retreat may be necessary,” Beorna said. “But I would first look upon the one responsible for Jenya’s death, and all of the suffering unleashed upon the good people of Cauldron.”
Cal looked up into the great shaft that formed the interior of Skullrot. The heights above them were lost in darkness, but the spire had been where the lich had come from, and its deadly golem.
“Come on then,” he said, starting toward the nearest stair.
Slowly, they began to ascend.
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