Lazybones
Adventurer
We'll learn the answer to that question, I think, some time in "Shackled City III: Zenith Trajectory"...Broccli_Head said:
Just got the fourth module in the series today in Dungeon 104 ("The Demonskar Legacy"); looks very interesting with some good ideas for character development.
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Chapter 52
The bandits had taken heavy casualties, but there was still a lot of fight left in them. The unarmored one that Arun had bashed got up, critically injured but still able to hold his sword. He moved to join the man that had finally taken down Arun, and the woman warrior as she shook off the brief effects of Illewyn’s spell. The cleric looked hopelessly outmatched as the three spread out and came toward her, their faces now grimly serious.
Just a few paces away, on the far side of the battlefield, Mole and Zenna faced off against a skilled rogue, member of the notorious Alleybasher gang. He’d taken a gash from Mole’s sword, but in turn had inflicted a more serious wound on the gnome with his own weapon. Mole refused to retreat, however, even as a circle of blood continued to spread across her shirt where his rapier had bitten her.
The three fighters threatening Illewyn hesitated as Dannel stepped forward, another arrow drawn and ready to fire. “All right, which shall it be?” he said.
“You can’t shoot us all,” the injured man, Pierto, said. He'd drawn a potion vial out from a pocket of his shirt, and held it closely in one hand, his other keeping his sword up in a guard position.
“True,” Dannel said. He shifted his aim and released in one smooth motion, the arrow slamming hard into Pierto’s chest and knocking him backward roughly to the ground.
This time the fighter did not get up.
The other two hefted their swords and charged. Dannel dropped his bow and charged forward to meet them, his sword hissing out of his scabbard.
“Help the dwarf!” he shouted over his shoulder to Illewyn.
Zenna saw Arun go down, and the surviving fighters turn toward Illewyn and Dannel. She knew that they had to act quickly, that she and Mole could not draw out this confrontation with their adversary any longer. Lowering her empty crossbow, she stepped forward until she stood right behind Mole. The rogue, leery of Mole’s speed despite his threats, eyed her warily, ready for an attack, and too late realized his mistake as Zenna uttered a string of magical syllables that echoed in the air momentarily before fading.
A stream of blinding colors shot from the fingertips of the wizard, catching the rogue squarely in the face. His senses overwhelmed by the display, he fell, unconscious.
“Help Dannel,” she said to Mole, grimly drawing out her dagger. She knew that the effects of the spell would last only a few seconds, and the only way to ensure that this foe did not return to the battle. Mole, understanding that as well, nodded and rushed to the elf’s aid.
Dannel met his opponents in a clash of steel on steel. The two remaining bandits knew that this battle would come down to this final confrontation, that they’d taken out the toughest foe, and they had to finish the others before they themselves fell. They could run, but they were veteran enough to know that turning away, lowering their guard, would likely only lead to their deaths against equally veteran opponents.
So they came at the elf with everything they had, spreading out so as to flank him. Dannel turned the first stroke, and the second, but he could only manage a weak counter that failed to do more than glance harmlessly off the other’s heavy mail. They drove him back toward the curtain, harrying him relentlessly.
“You are outmatched, elf,” the woman said, as they pressed him, launching more attacks. Adrenaline was cutting through some of the haze from the alcohol in their systems, and for all his speed Dannel was far less armored than his enemies.
“Perhaps,” he replied, as he parried another blow aimed for his throat. “But time is on my side, I think.”
The man on Dannel’s right sensed the danger a moment before Mole rushed up behind him, and he turned just in time to avoid the stroke aimed at his hamstring. Dannel slashed at him, doing no damage but forcing him back. The melee split into two separate battles, with Mole facing off against the male fighter while Dannel turned to the woman.
“See how quickly things change?” he said to her. “Maybe it would be a good idea to surrender, to turn yourself in and accept a fair trial for your crimes.”
“Never!” the woman hissed, lunging at him again. Dannel darted back, but couldn’t avoid a gash in his off arm that drew a red line across his bicep just above the elbow.
Zenna rose after wiping her dagger on the shirt of the man she’d just killed, grimly stabbing the knife back into its sheath. She hurried over to where Illewyn was still tending to Arun, relief flooding into her as she saw the dwarf stir under the blue glow that shone from the cleric’s fingers. She dug into her pouch and crouched beside the dwarf as his eyes blinked open, and lowered a vial to his lips.
“Drink this,” she commanded.
As life poured back into the battered dwarf’s body, he shot up, blood flying in droplets from his splattered armor. Illewyn and Zenna were nearly dragged down as well as they helped him; with his heavy armor, the dwarf was almost like a turtle knocked onto its back. Once afoot, if still wavering somewhat, Arun shrugged out of the grasp of the two women and charged toward the still-raging battle a few paces away. Not bothering to recover his heavy warhammer, he drew out one of the light hammers from his belt, and rushed up behind the man fighting Mole. The gnome had thus far held her own, although she hadn’t managed to hurt her armored foe, but things quickly turned for that combatant when Arun slammed the head of the hammer into the small of the warrior’s back. Grunting in pain, the warrior was staggered and left completely open for the thrust of Mole’s sword into his gut.
Zenna and Illewyn exchanged a look, then moved to help Dannel.
The last bandit was quick to realize that her situation had grown hopeless. “Tongueater will do for you and yours, elf!” she hissed, lunging at him in a clear feint before turning to flee. Dannel wasn’t fooled, and he caught her with a low thrust that crunched through her armor and bit deeply into her thigh. The woman staggered but kept going, heading for one of the doors behind the bar. As she rounded the edge of the bar, Dannel still pressing her from behind, a bolt from Zenna’s crossbow just missed her and shattered a nearly empty bottle on the shelving against the back wall. Even as the sound of the crash echoed, another missile spun almost lazily through the air toward the fleeing bandit, catching her in the back of the head even as she reached for the handle of the door. With a sickening snap as her spine cracked from the impact of Arun’s hammer, the woman crumpled.
A belated quiet returned once more to the common room, which now had the look of an abattoir. The bodies of the eight bandits were scattered about the room, their blood gathered in messy pools and splattered both on the furnishings and on the bodies of the victors. Breathing heavily, the five adventurers from Cauldron stood and surveyed the results of their efforts.
Arun walked over to where his warhammer lay on the floor. As he bent to recover the weapon, Illewyn approached him, already beginning an incantation. The dwarf shook his head. “I’m fine. Save your prayers, priestess.”
Zenna threw up her hands. “You stubborn fool! If you’d just waited earlier, I could have taken out most of them with my color spray. Now you won’t take healing, just because you’re too thick-headed to admit that you’re hurt! Well, there’s going to be more of those bandits, and that ‘Tongueater’ they mentioned, so you’d better just drop the bravado and start acting as though there’s something besides rocks in that head of yours!”
Arun raised an eyebrow. “And I’d say that you can toss that dagger of yours, girl... your tongue is sharp enough!” But as he hefted his hammer, he let out a loud harrumph. “Fine then, cast your spells, but I’ll not be slinking about when there’s Evil to be crushed!”
A loud crash drew their attention to the far side of the room, beyond the barricade toward the eastern half of the long common room. There a raised alcove formed a stage of sorts, and they could see another armored figure there, leaning awkwardly against the wall. The figure, another female fighter equipped in similar fashion to the other thugs they’d just battle, had just knocked a chair down the steps of the stage, and as the companions reached for their weapons, she turned and half-ran, half-staggered to the adjacent stair well that led up to the second story of the inn. Arun was the only one to react in time, hurling his second hammer, but the missile was far wide and caromed harmlessly off the wall.
The dwarf had already started in that direction, but Zenna forestalled him. “Let’s not rush into another ambush.” She nodded to Illewyn, who cast her spell of healing on the clearly impatient dwarf.
“Maybe we should just wait here, prepare for their attack,” Mole said. Arun snorted, making his thoughts on that suggestion known.
“There’s too many ways into this room, too easy to get flanked or surrounded.” Dannel said. The elf had recovered his bow, and handed the throwing hammer that had brained the last enemy fighter back to Arun. “We should be at full strength for the next confrontation, but likewise we should not give our enemies too much time to prepare, to get back on their guard.” He drew out from his pouch a slender metal wand that resembled a long, skinny fork, and as they watched he sang to it, summoning a soft greenish glow that seeped from his hand into his body, healing the injuries he’d suffered in the battle.
Zenna gave Mole one of Jenya’s healing potions, which the gnome quickly downed.
“While we’re lounging about here, our enemies are getting stronger,” Arun growled.
Zenna reloaded her crossbow, and glanced at each of the others, gauging their preparedness. “All right,” she said. “Let’s go.”
With the dwarf in the lead, they crossed quickly to the stairs. Wary of an ambush, they made their way up the stairs to the second story of the Lucky Monkey.
They found themselves on a landing, with hallways providing access to guest rooms to the left and right. The landing met the hallways at an angle, with the halls running north and west into different wings of the roadhouse. Directly across from them the first door was standing open, revealing a compact room that had been obviously ransacked.
Arun grunted and moved forward into the hallway. Almost as soon as he stepped from the landing into the hall, the attack came.
