Shackled City Epic: "Vengeance" (story concluded)

Who is your favorite character in "The Shackled City"?

  • Zenna

    Votes: 27 29.7%
  • Mole

    Votes: 17 18.7%
  • Arun

    Votes: 31 34.1%
  • Dannel

    Votes: 10 11.0%
  • Other (note in a post)

    Votes: 6 6.6%

DSC-EricPrice said:
For more than a couple of years now I thought story hour was home to PBeMs, and so never gave it much attention. This weekend however, I stumbled upon the beginning of this tale. In a word, your writing Lazybones is nothing less than

CAPTIVATING.

Don't believe me? I read as much as I absolutely could this weekend. Each time I set myself about going to take care of my chores I found some excuse to come back and read some more. Now I am 17 pages into the story, and eager to finish the rest.
Hey, thanks for the kudos, Eric! Glad you're enjoying the story. I've recently gotten back into SH reading (ENW is blocked at my job, so I DL the threads to text on my USB drive), and I've found some real gems of late. The only down side is that when I get sucked into someone else's story, I'm not writing mine. :heh: I try and promote this page as much as possible on the forums I visit, it's a great place to was... um, spend time, yeah, that's it... :D As for my SH, I think I have the "most frequently updated" title at least. ;)

Anyway, I promised my readers carnage this week... a post a day, starting now!

* * * * *

Chapter 451

With a faint shimmer the two groups of companions materialized upon the bleached white expanse that was the summit of the great skull crag that dominated the center of Occipitus. They found themselves in the midst of the storm that enfolded the citadel, but instead of familiar rain and wind, they encountered only a strange darkening of the ambient light combined with a tickle of power that made the hairs on their arms and on the backs of their necks stand on end.

“Taint,” Arun said, drawing his holy sword. The paladin was a veritable beacon of magical buffs, focused upon him more than the others due to his ability to harm the demon prince with his holy sword. As for the others… well, their efficacy would have to be proven in the encounter. They had prepared their best weapons and tried tactics, but against this foe all were cognizant that their best may not be near enough.

Their misgivings about their method of transportation had proven unfounded as Dana and Morgan appeared a mere sixty feet or so away from Cal and the others, the hulking form of the marut and the sleeker figure of the zelekhut behind them. Each step made by the marut made the ground tremble beneath their feet.

“Well, there goes any chance of surprise,” Dannel said, as the two groups rejoined.

“There never was any chance,” Morgan said simply. “He knows that we are here.”

“Let us be about this, then,” Beorna said.

“Come,” Morgan said, leading them across the skull, toward the front side where a tendril of smoke rose up into the air from below, ahead of them out of sight beneath the curvature of the white summit.

“Watch your step,” Cal said, as the slope grew more treacherous. The zelekhaut unfurled segmented metallic wings from its back as a caution, while the marut simply plodded forward, its weight acting as an anchor, for now.

“Perhaps we should affix some ropes,” Dannel suggested, but before the others could comment Mole pointed to the destination Morgan was leading them to, a great crack in the surface of the skull, starting only a few inches across but widening to nearly ten feet by the time that it joined with one of the cavernous eye sockets that they knew connected to the Hall of the Flame below. On their last visit that opening had been filled with deadly plasms that issued regularly from the pillar, rising through the gap into the sky above. They had made an approach from this direction incredibly hazardous, but with the plasms gone their access to the interior of the citadel was currently open.

“Stay together, and I’ll use my feather fall to slow our descent,” Cal said, as they made their way carefully to the nearest point where the crack was wide enough to accommodate them.

They had already discussed their approach, and possible tactics, utilizing the best of their own skills, as well as the abilities of Morgan and his outsider allies. Peering through the gap, Mole reported that the great chamber below seemed empty. Arun confirmed that the Taint was strong here, an overwhelming aura that prevented him from singling out individual creatures. Morgan said that Adimarchus was here, close; perhaps waiting for them to show themselves before he made his appearance.

Most of the group dropped through the opening, using Cal’s spell to drift safely to the ground sixty feet beneath the crack. Dana remained aloft, using the magical powers of her boots to give her some distance from the others, while Cal slid through the crack and started walking on the upper side of the domed chamber, using his spider climb spell. The zelekhut likewise spread its wings and remained aloft, long spiked chains emerging from its wrists as it flew, while the marut merely drew upon its power and opened a dimension door directly to the chamber floor.

“Well, this is different,” Mole said, as she landed gently upon the floor.

The huge chamber was dominated, as before, by the swirling pillar of surging plasma flame that continued to issue black threads of smoke that rose up through the skull-eye into the sky above. But everything else about the place had been changed. Where on their last visit here the rest of the chamber had been barren, empty, now it was occupied by stone forms that appeared to have risen directly from the floor and the walls. These figures, of varying shapes and sizes, resembled statues or bas-reliefs, although their design was blocky, unfinished. It was as though a sculptor had begun work on each only to grow bored with the project, moving on to the next one. The only exception was the faces; these were captured in perfect detail, almost as if they had been cast from the original living models and used to carve incredibly detailed reproductions. There were dozens of them, forming an intermittent forest throughout the chamber.

“Cagewrights,” Dannel said, recognizing some of the faces.

“Umm… I think this one’s Arun,” Mole said, indicating a squat form that did indeed seem to resemble the dwarf. The sculpture’s helm hid most of its face, but they could see that its jaws were spread wide, frozen in a silent scream. They found other familiar faces; the Heroes of Cauldron were all represented, captured in expressions of turmoil and torment. A short distance away they encountered a winged, skeletal form that could only have been the Dark Myrakul, and across from it, a robed figure that bore the face of Jenya Urikas, her face twisted into an evil scowl.

“Blasphemy,” Beorna said, turning away from the figure of her slain superior.

“Madness,” Cal said, as they spread out across the room. “These would be the faces of those who touched him—or whom he touched—in his captivity.”

“I don’t like this,” Mole said, staring at a depiction of herself that was little more than a piteous ball, her face peering upward from the compressed mass of stone, looking small and utterly alone.

“Stay alert,” Morgan warned. “I sense His presence here.”

On the far side of the room, facing the pillar of fire, a great throne of stone had formed out of the floor. In front of the seat was another stone figure… no, two of them, they saw, half-melted into each other. They looked vaguely humanoid, but with misshapen features; it was difficult to determine more, as they were formed in a supplicant pose, bent over on their knees before the empty stone throne. Lok knelt briefly beside the pair, noting that while their bodies were indistinctly represented, both had six fingers on each hand.

“Adimarchus! we have come for you!” Morgan cried, his voice echoing throughout the chamber.

“Wonderful,” Dannel said, tensing his bow, a cold iron arrow already fitted to the string.

Behind the throne something stirred.

“The staircase!” Mole warned, directing them to the chamber’s only exit, other than the opening through which they’d entered.

A slithering sound accompanied by the clink of metal announced the arrival of a familiar foe. The marilith Byakala moved forward slowly into the light, her six swords held in a ready position, forming a ring of steel around her body.

The warriors and the inevitables moved to face the demoness, forming a half-circle on the near side of the stone throne.

“Byakala!” Cal said, the gnome’s voice echoing through the chamber from high above. “You don’t have to do this… we’ve come to destroy Adimarchus! Join us, and you can be free!”

The marilith’s expression was almost one of regret. “I was never truly free, so long as He existed,” she said.

Lifting her swords high, she unleashed a keening wail that combined rage and despair.
 

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And the Showdown commences!

First up on the block: Byakala, the Marilith, Mistress of Flashing Steel, Bringer of Whirling Slicy Doom, and an all-round promise of great Suffering. Nothing makes my smile light up like the promise of blood, slaughter, and pain. :]

In other news, I like how Adimarchus has all those statues stand'in around. I'll just steal that concept for further use. :]

*yoink*
 

Chapter 452

“This may be a distraction,” Dannel hissed as the others parlayed with the demoness, scanning the dark corners of the chamber with his keen eyes. But the room appeared to be empty, save for the marilith, the companions and their allies, and the stone sculptures. Morgan had empowered himself with true sight, so he should have been able to penetrate any ruse or illusion, but none of them would take anything for granted as far as the demon lord was concerned.

“If you stand with Adimarchus, then you have sealed your own doom,” Morgan said. Pronouncing the might of Helm through a brief invocation, he began to swell in size, drawing upon his god’s righteous might until he dwarfed even the marut, standing over twelve feet in height.

“Let her come to us, do not allow her to set for a full attack!” Arun urged his companions. But Morgan was beyond reason, infused with power and the madness of Occipitus, and he screamed something incomprehensible as he leapt at the demoness, his borrowed sword a gleaming arbiter of destruction in his hand.

The others could do naught but follow him into melee.

Morgan’s expanded size gave him considerable reach and allowed him to strike before the marilith’s extended blades could touch him. He rose high into the air in an unnaturally arcing leap, driving his sword down into her body with incredible force. The blow crushed into the left side of her body, driving deep through a lung, releasing a spray of black blood from the devastating wound that splattered over the shining armor of the knight. Behind him the others were rushing forward, although a direct charge was blocked by the enlarged form of the knight, delaying them for a precious second or two.

But even as she screamed in pain, Byakala unleashed a storm of death upon Morgan. Her blades sliced through the air and into the knight’s body from every direction, driving through his armor and cutting deep into the flesh beneath. Morgan staggered backward, his blood flashing out from his wounds, brought from full health to the brink of death in a flash of an instant. Nor was the marilith finished; with surprising speed she suddenly reared up, snapping her long tail around. The agile member clove through a nearby statue, sundering it into fragments, before smashing into Morgan’s head, knocking him aside like a child’s discarded doll. The ground around him shook as he hit the floor hard, dislodging another statute that fell beside him. The stricken knight did not stir, oozing blood that formed a sticky pool around his unmoving body.

“Heeeaaaa!” Byakala keened, exulting in the defeat of her adversary.

But her moment of triumph was very short lived, interrupted first by a long shaft that slammed into her torso, driving a hot wedge of pure pain through her body. The zelekhut flew overhead, lashing her with its spiked chains, but those nasty weapons did little damage through her potent resistances, and she was completely immune to the jolts of electricity that shot through her with each hit. She slashed at its underside with one of her swords, but the creature was just out of her reach as it flew past.

She turned back as the diminutive—to her scale—enemy warriors charged at her, two spreading to come at her from the flanks while the last rushed straight on into the position just vacated by the fallen knight. Byakala focused on that one, for he bore a brilliantly glowing sword that she instantly recognized as a holy weapon. Her long reach allowed her to strike him solidly across the body before he could reach her, but despite what had to be a painful hit he continued his charge, that deadly blade coming down in an arc that she knew was final even before she felt it intersect with her body. That pain overwhelmed the sensation of the two other attacks that drove into her sides, and with a final cry of agony she collapsed into a twitching heap, her body almost severed in two by the deep cuts opened by the weapons of the companions.

Dana had flown down immediately on seeing Morgan fall, and she was relieved to see him stir as she poured the pure restorative energies of a heal spell into him. Arun, she saw, was being attended by Beorna, although the one hit he’d taken could not have been that serious for the durable paladin.

“Where is Adimarchus?” Morgan asked, as he struggled to get up.

“He’s not here,” Arun said, looking around. “He abandoned his minion to be destroyed.”

“No,” Morgan said, toppling another statue as he struggled to his feet. “He is here...”

They turned, as one, as the feeling that had animated Morgan became obvious to all of them. The intensity of the light that filtered down from the crack above, and the pulsing flow of the plasma pillar, did not change, but it was as if a shadow had been passed over the room, filling the place with a miasma of dread.

Adimarchus stepped forward out of the roaring column of fire into the chamber. He was in his demon form, carrying the smoldering length of his greatsword, the deadly artifact called the Ashen Blade, easily in one hand.

“I knew that you would bring them all to me,” he said to Morgan, his voice soft, even, yet somehow filling both the expanse of the chamber and the hollow of their minds together. Shifting his attention to all of them, he said, “Yours is the first installment in the measure of my vengeance. First I will repay you… and then I will extract my revenge upon my six-fingered adversary!”
 



Lazybones said:
“I knew that you would bring them all to me,” he said to Morgan, his voice soft, even, yet somehow filling both the expanse of the chamber and the hollow of their minds together. Shifting his attention to all of them, he said, “Yours is the first installment in the measure of my vengeance. First I will repay you… and then I will extract my revenge upon my six-fingered adversary!”
Butter bei die Fische! :]
 

I was hoping the battle with the marilith would look kind of like this, but the way it actually turned out is just as good.

Thing is....the heroes and Archimadius both have a common foe.
 


Chapter 453

“Do you fear Graz’zt so yet, that you tremble even to speak his name?” Arun shouted, lifting his holy sword between himself and the demon prince.

“I will have my vengeance!” Adimarchus screamed, his yell a pulse of dark energies that sent quivers of sharp pain through the minds of everyone gathered in the chamber. Most of them weathered the release of power, but Morgan seemed particularly stricken, staggering back before the potency of the true master of Occipitus. Several of the statues crumbled, and others seemed to briefly come alive, clutching at the sky or clawing at the sides of their heads as if they were the targets of the demon lord’s despair.

“I think you pissed him off!” Beorna yelled at Arun, as the two dwarves charged forward.

Tendrils of flame abruptly burst out of the plasma column. At first it looked like some dire new attack from the Prince, but they coalesced into a humanoid form, over thirty feet tall, which stepped forward and enveloped Adimarchus with its long arms. The dwarves hesitated, not so much from the heat radiating from the elemental—both had been warded against fire—but out of desire not to aid the demon lord by inadvertently hitting Dana’s summoned creature.

Their hesitation did not last long. Just a few seconds after it had grappled Adimarchus, the elemental disintegrated, torn asunder by a full series of attacks from the Ashen Blade. The Prince’s arms and body bore marks of black char from the elemental’s brief embrace, but it was clear that he had not been seriously injured.

But the demon lord now found himself under heavy attack. The marut had lumbered forward, and now bashed Adimarchus with a pair of heavy blows from its massive fists. It may as well have been punching a wall of adamantine; although it defied reason for the huge creature’s impacts to have no effect upon the much smaller Prince, somehow it was the inevitable that was repulsed.

Still, the attacks kept coming, the companions pressing their assault with everything they had. A cold iron arrow from Dannel’s bow clipped the Prince’s shoulder, doing minor damage but at least proving that he could be hurt. A single drop of utterly black fluid separated from the wound and dropped to the ground, burning a small hole through the very fabric of Occipitus. The warriors swarmed around the marut and unleashed their own attacks, stabbing at the Prince with perfectly aimed attacks that did very little, even Arun’s holy sword glancing harmlessly off of Adimarchus’s ebon body. The zelekhut flew overhead, lashing at the Prince’s body with its spiked chains, trying to knock the sword from his grasp, but failing utterly.

Surrounded by foes, Adimarchus calmly unleashed a horrid wilting upon the spot where he stood.

The inevitables were not affected by the spell, but the same could not be said for the companions. The wilting was utterly devastating and utterly irresistible; they best they could hope for was to fight off the worst of its effects. But Adimarchus’s spell was more potent than that of any mere mortal caster.

Dannel and Mole were nearly killed outright by the released power, the elf collapsing, gasping to suck in air through his desiccated lungs. The others were hard hit as well, but they did not hesitate, continuing their attacks despite their ineffectiveness thus far. Dana, flying above, her skin crinkling painfully with every movement, cast a mass heal that poured life back into them, washing away the effects of Adimarchus’s dread power in a single gesture.

Thus far, they seemed to be holding their own. They even started to inflict damage, as Morgan leapt into the battle, looming over the smaller forms of Arun and Beorna, using his superior reach as he thrust his blade into Adimarchus’s shoulder. The Prince snarled as the point of the ancient weapon, its fragile iron empowered with Helm’s divine power, sank a few inches into his body. When Morgan drew the weapon back, its tip smoked with black blood.

The marut, seeing how ineffective its attacks were, gave up its physical assault and merely enfolded Adimarchus’s body in its huge arms. The serpent-tentacles sprouting from the Prince’s back snapped and tore at those mechanical limbs, but the inevitable stoically absorbed the attacks, trying to hold on.

The grapple had an effect, but it didn’t last long enough to turn into a tactical advantage. Adimarchus, perhaps reminded of his captivity at the hands of Graz’zt, screamed and vanished, teleporting out of the marut’s grasp.

“Where is he?” Arun asked, searching the chamber. But Morgan looked directly up, to the summit of the dome, where the black figure loomed above them. This aspect of Adimarchus lacked the power of flight, and he started to fall, but then he… shifted, and the angelic form of the demon prince spread his wings, a beautiful but corrupt avatar of destruction.

“I purify you!” he shrieked, unleashing a word of chaos.
 

Ouch!....

Massive stuns..Some deaths. When my players fought the Slaadi-lord Bazim-gorag the first time, this nearly wiped them. Second round, someone cast silence on the tank and it got through Bg's spell resistance eventually. No save. No word of chaos either
 

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