Shackled City Epic: "Vengeance" (story concluded)

[Lazybones]

Time for Arun to put that Power Attack to good use!

Yeah, with Arun I think the question is not so much whether to Power Attack, but rather how much to Power Attack.

Of course, the down side of PA is that you miss a lot more, as we find out in today's installment...

* * * * *

Chapter 115

The water rose to the mummy’s hips as it waded through the pool, but it barely seemed to slow the creature as it drove mercilessly onward toward them. Arun met it at the edge of the pool, bringing it around in a wide arc that culminated in a powerful blow to the creature’s side. The blow would have likely crippled a living foe, but the mummy seemed to shrug it off, its rotted carcass absorbing the blow like a fist hitting a side of beef. The mummy responded with a powerful cross that caught Arun solidly across the face, knocking him roughly backward with the sheer force of the impact.

Zenna, driven beyond fear by the appearance of the creature, sought desperately for the words of a spell. She remembered her wand, but even as she reached for it, something else occurred to her, a memory of something that Esbar Tolerathkas had told her... or had it been her step-mother? Even as the source of the thought scrabbled away from her, her fingers closed on the symbol, etched in silver, that she wore on a clasp about her neck.

Her divine spells came to her through focused thought and meditation, although deep down, she’d always understood that their final source was something... other, a tangible entity unlike the vague and permeating essence of the Weave. Azuth... she’d never thought of him as a “patron,” even as she used that power to work miracles such as bringing a dying friend back from the brink. But she called upon that power now, channeling it through the symbol, holding it boldly before her. Although the dim light cast by Dannel’s spell remained the only illumination in the chamber, to her eyes the symbol of Azuth glowed like a beacon, driving back the shadows.

“Back!” she yelled, willing the undead abomination to obey.

But the mummy only turned from Arun, fixed its sinister stare upon her, and lunged forward. The invisible glow failed and faded as the mummy came upon her, too fast for her to do anything but scream as it lashed out with one withered and twisted hand. Stars exploded around her as the blow knocked her roughly back, and she stumbled, barely able to keep from collapsing to the ground.

The mummy followed, intent on destroying this pathetic cleric that had dared to challenge it.

But before the creature could strike again, another foe stepped forward to block it. Dannel, finally able to shake off the grim effects of the creature’s power out of fury at its assault upon Zenna, drew his sword and brought it around to hack at the creature’s outstretched arm. Chips of bone flew from the impact, although the assault appeared to do little to slow or hinder the creature as it raised its other arm and turned toward the elf. Behind it, Arun rushed once more into the fray, but once again his powerful blow to the small of the mummy’s back seemed harmlessly absorbed by its unnaturally tough hide. Snarling in frustration, Arun tossed his shield aside and took up the hammer with both hands, intent on overcoming its defenses through sheer strength.

“Zenna!” Dannel cried, his distraction nearly costing him as the mummy lunged for his throat with both claw-like hands. The elf dodged backward, nearly falling as he stumbled against Mole. The gnome was still shaking off the effects of the mummy’s despair, and Dannel caught her up, dragging her free of the melee. The mummy followed, and would have caught them, but for Arun surging in again, his hammer raised again to attack.

“Face ME!” he said, bringing down the hammer in an incredible two-handed strike, smiting the mummy. The undead monster clearly felt that attack, though it still seemed nigh-unstoppable as it spun to face the dwarf. Its claws tore at his arms as he pulled back his hammer, but the dwarf’s bracers protected him from damage, and he was able to draw free before the mummy could get a clean grip on him.

“Help Zenna!” Dannel said to Mole, putting the rogue down a few paces away before turning back toward the melee.

But Zenna had already recovered, and even as the elf turned away from Mole she stepped forward boldly, words of power flowing from her lips. The mummy heard and turned toward her, just in time to absorb a scorching ray that flared over its withered body like a dragon’s deadly breath. The mummy screeched as its upper body turned into a pyre, but it kept coming, staggering toward Zenna, its arms outstretched with its burning fingers clutching at air as they sought to rend her flesh. The tiefling darted back in alarm, but before it could reach her Dannel ducked in and swept his sword around low, catching the mummy solidly on one leg and knocking it off-balance. Before it could recover, Arun’s hammer had arrived with its own message for the creature’s spine, and it went down, flames still spreading across its body.

It tried to get up, but never made it.

Hodge finally “unfroze,” staring at the scorched carcass of the mummy with a look combining shame and disgust. Arun clasped the dwarf’s shoulder. “There is no shame in it; the effect was magical, and affected Mole and the elf as well.”

“It dinna affect yer,” the dwarf replied.

“My faith was my shield, but that is not to say that I did not feel the terror of its gaze.”

Dannel, meanwhile, came over to Zenna. “That wound looks bad,” he said, examining her face, drawing out his magical wand. The tiefling was pale, her skin cracked and bleeding where the mummy had struck her.

The elf sang to his wand, calling upon its power, but frowned as the healing glow failed to do anything to Zenna’s injury.

“Arun,” he said.

“What’s the matter?” Zenna asked, noticing the change in Dannel’s expression.

“Nothing, I’d just like Arun to take a look at it,” the elf said.

“I... I feel weak,” Zenna said. “I think that creature hit me harder than I thought; maybe I should sit down for a moment...” There were no chairs or other convenient objects on this side of the room, so Dannel made a pad out of his cloak and helped the tiefling sit down.

Arun came over and examined Zenna, frowning as he looked at the wound.

“What is it?” Zenna asked.

“Your skin is starting to crack, around the injury,” he said. He took off his gauntlets and touched his thick hands to the woman’s face. Zenna felt a sudden surge of energy pass through her at the dwarf’s touch, as a sensation like being dipped in a cold mountain stream spread throughout her body. But a moment later the sensation abruptly faded, and she felt suddenly ill. Leaning over, she was barely able to keep from losing the contents of her stomach upon the wet stone.

“Zenna!” Mole exclaimed, worry in her voice.

“What... what’s happening to me...” the tiefling said, her voice tight.

Arun looked to Dannel, and shook his head.

The elf nodded. His expression was that of a man who’d just been stabbed in the gut.

“Dannel,” Zenna said, pulling herself back up to a sitting position, using Mole for support. “Tell me.”

Reluctantly, he met her gaze. “You have contracted mummy rot.”

 

[Horacio]

Mummy rot? Ohhhhh, things look bad for Zenna
Great cliffhanger, as usual!

 

[wolff96]

Eh, they just need to level up really fast. Then Arun will be able to Remove Disease and it will be a moot point.

Or maybe I'm metagaming a bit much. Heh.

 

[Lazybones]

Eh, they just need to level up really fast. Then Arun will be able to Remove Disease and it will be a moot point.

Or maybe I'm metagaming a bit much. Heh.

Arun already has Remove Disease, actually. The problem is that mummy rot must be treated wtih Remove Curse before it can be cured. Until then it blocks all healing unless a DC20 level check is passed. Furthermore the progression is a daily loss of 1d6 Con and Cha, until the victim disintegrates into dust. And they're a good distance from the nearest cleric.

Indeed, Zenna's situation has suddenly grown quite desperate...

Unfortunately I'm overloaded this week, but I'll try for an update this Friday.

 

[Rugger]

PING!

Just making sure this floats back up top so LB doesn't forget our friday cliffhanger!

-Rugger
"I Lurk!"

 

[Lazybones]

Sweet, just hit 10k views! Thanks readers!

It's been a madhouse this week; I wasn't sure I'd get this update in today, but here you go:

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Chapter 116

For a moment, a cold silence hung over the five adventurers gathered in the dank underground chamber.

“Well, how do we cure her?” Mole said. “I thought you paladins could cure disease?”

“The power of the curse overlays the sickness, and resists my efforts to purge the disease from her,” Arun said. “Until we remove the curse, I cannot heal her.”

“Well, how do we remove the curse, then?” the gnome persisted.

“A powerful cleric could do it, or a wizard of yet greater talent,” Dannel explained.

“In other words, none of us here,” Zenna said. “Help me up.”

“You need to save your strength,” Dannel began, but the tiefling cut him off.

“Why? Don’t think I don’t understand what you’ve told me, Dannel... I know enough to know that what you’ve pronounced is in all likelihood a likely death sentence.”

“No!” Mole exclaimed. “No, we’ll find a way! We should go back to Cauldron... Jenya can treat you!”

Dannel and Arun both nodded. “Yes, the high priestess most likely could purge you of the infection,” Dannel said. “We should head back immediately,” the dwarf added.

But Zenna shook her head. “No. Don’t get me wrong,” she added, holding up a hand to forestall their replies. “I have no wish to die. But we’re nearly a tenday from Cauldron, and I know enough about sickness to know that my chances of surviving that march are slender. No, we should finish what we came here to do... These kuo-toa are led by a powerful priest, if you’ll remember; perhaps they may have something, a potion, a scroll, that can help us.”

“Zenna,” Dannel began.

“We finish our search, find Zenith Splintershield, and then we’ll head back,” she said firmly. “Another hour isn’t going to make a difference, either way.”

“I am not without skill in healing, and I can pray for spells that can mitigate the worst effects of the disease, give us time,” Arun said. “Do not abandon hope, never abandon hope.”

Zenna nodded, her face already marked with splotches around the ugly wound, her expression grim.

“Let’s get this done then,” Hodge said, boldly trudging forward through the pool to the far side. The others followed, Mole making the trip astride Arun’s back. There was no levity, even from Mole; once they had gathered safely on the far side of the pool, they set out again in single file down the far corridor, Dannel again in the lead.

After a few dozen paces the corridor turned left, progressing only a short distance before turning left and heading back parallel to their original course. The passageway ended a few paces later in a flat stone wall fronted by a small puddle of water and greenish mulch. It only took Dannel a few moments to determine that the apparent barrier was in fact a portal, a stone door cleverly recessed and built to look like a normal wall.

“I expect it’s less obvious on the far side,” he told the others. “Not much sense in building a corridor that goes nowhere.”

“Nor do builders create secret doors, unless there’s a reason,” Zenna pointed out.

Dannel nodded, and turned back to the door. He and Mole quickly scanned the door for traps or triggers, the elf looking high, the gnome low. He then handed the small stone that contained his light spell back to Zenna, who closed her fingers around it until only a faint sliver of light shone to illuminate the door.

Dannel nodded at Mole, and carefully pressed against the edge of the portal. For a moment the heavy stone resisted, and then with a slight sucking sound it slid outward. Light and noise spilled into the corridor; the former a soft, greenish glow that seemed almost unreal in its composition, and the latter an uneven, rhythmic chanting that the companions now clearly recognized as kuo-toan.

“Shhh,” Mole whispered to them, then she darted through the crack before any of them could move to stop her.

Zenna caught herself before she exclaimed a warning, throwing up her hands in frustration.

Dannel edged forward to the opening, so that he could peer into the room beyond. The space, even from his limited field of vision, had a feeling of great size about it. Huge pillars at least five paces thick supported a platform directly above them, that appeared to occupy a good portion of this side of the chamber. The center of the room was filled with a wide pool of green water of indeterminate depth, out of which rose stone steps that ascended to the top of the platform. The chanting seemed to be coming from above, atop the platform.

Mole had closed to the edge of the platform, moving slowly to avoid splashing in the many puddles that dotted the floor. She left Dannel’s line of sight for a moment that stretched into a long minute. The elf was about to head out after her when she reappeared, gesturing up toward the platform with two fingers held up.

The elf nodded, and drew back.

“Looks like a pair of clerics,” he told the others. “We’d best be careful, though; this room is huge and looks like it could be some sort of temple or gathering place.”

“Let’s be about it, then,” Arun said.

The elf looked at the heavily-armored dwarves dubiously. “You wouldn’t get ten paces before alerting them,” he said. “The floor of the chamber is half-flooded, in any case. Let Mole and I get into position; we can ambush them, and you can rush in once we’ve engaged them.”

“Me as well,” Zenna said. “I’m not wearing armor; I can be at least relatively quiet, and you may need my spells.”

The elf nodded, and turned back to the narrow opening. Mole had vanished again, but Dannel knew that she’d be in position. Aware of Zenna’s presence behind him, he crept along the edge of the room until he was out from under the looming presence of the platform above. He continued in the shadows along the perimeter of the chamber until he could get a clear look at what they faced.

The platform was dominated by a huge stone statue, rising some thirty feet above its surface into the shadows that gathered in the chamber’s vaulted ceiling. The statue was of a female humanoid form, with claws for hands and a crustacean abomination for a head. The room had to fill the entire interior of the great stone fish, Dannel realized. He could sense the power in this place, a faintly malevolent aura that clung to him like the water soaking his skin. High above, several balconies ran around the edges of the room, but they appeared to be unoccupied as far as he could determine.

Standing on that platform was the source of the chanting, a pair of kuo-toa priests. They wore ceremonial robes in a sickly olive draped over their bodies, but even the bulky garments were not enough to fully conceal the obvious metal armor that they wore beneath. High above the ground level, a balcony ran around the edges of the room.

Dannel gestured for Zenna to take up a position where he’d concealed himself, then he moved ahead to a spot near a narrow stone staircase that led up to the lowest of the circling balconies. There was still no sign of Mole, but Dannel knew she was out there, somewhere, likely in a position where she’d get into the maximum amount of trouble.

A loud clank drew his attention around. Arun had appeared in the doorway, waiting. Dannel glanced up at the kuo-toa clerics, but apparently they hadn’t heard the sound; at least their chanting and abasement before the fell statue continued unimpeded.

Enough stalling, he thought. He drew out one of his few remaining arrows, fitted it to his bow, carefully sighted down its length, and released.

The shaft flew true and impacted with a metallic thud, the steel head punching through armor and into the clammy flesh of the fish-man. The kuo-toa staggered forward against the statue. Its companion let out an angry croak and spun, only to cry out as a tiny dart embedded itself deeply in the gap where the plates of its armor overlapped at its hip. Dannel stifled a groan as Mole popped up from her place of concealment—a shadowy spot on the flight of stairs that led up to the platform, perhaps three steps from the summit.

Zenna, too distant for her remaining spells to be of assistance, fired her crossbow at the cleric that Dannel had wounded. Her aim was off, however, and the bolt caromed off of one stone foot of the statue. The injured whip shrieked in rage at the desecration, and both of them turned toward Mole, reaching for the morningstars hanging at their belts.

The grinding of stone, the creak of metal, and loud splashing announced the arrival of the dwarves. Arun and Hodge rushed forward from the secret door toward the base of the stairs, the gathered water slowing them some as they charged toward the battle.

Mole held her ground, awaiting the rush of the priests—at least she had that much sense in her, Dannel thought as he reached for another arrow. But instead of charging, the one that Mole had shot stepped over to where its companion stood, lifting a soggy limb to touch its companion. Mole recognized what they were about at the same instant that Dannel did, and the gnome leapt aside as a forked lightning bolt sliced out at her. The arc of energy narrowly missed her as she tucked into a roll and came back up to her feet, narrowly missing tumbling off of the platform entirely. Dannel’s second shot caught the cleric squarely in the chest a moment later, and the creature crumpled, now seriously hurt.

The second whip dug into the leather pouch dangling from its side, unrolling a scroll. It began croaking out the words of a spell, but whether the magic was designed to aid itself or its crippled ally, or to strike out at the adventurers, would remain unknown as a gleaming steel knife punched through the parchment, jabbing several inches into the kuo-toa’s throat. The gathering magic from the sundered scroll fragmented as the cleric reached out and pulled Mole’s blade free, slick with its fetid blood. The kuo-toa croaked something and turned toward the rear of the platform, were a pair of doors exited the chamber behind the statue, but it only managed a few steps before a heavy bolt from Hodge’s crossbow caught it squarely in the back of the skull, and it fell to the ground, its limbs flopping as its body came gradually to learn that it was dead.

Arun clambered up the stairs in a noisy progression, Hodge a short distance behind him after he’d swapped out his heavy crossbow for his trusty Betsy. Mole, seeing that neither cleric was getting back up, turned to await them at the top of the stairs, after flashing a “thumbs up” to Dannel and Zenna.

The elf started toward the stairs himself, but hesitated as he saw a tall shadow move in the darkness behind the statue...

“Look out!” he cried in warning, but was too late as a cloud of terrible, roiling blackness erupted at the edge of the platform, engulfing both Arun and Mole and obscuring them from sight.

Mole screamed.

 

[Lazybones]

Still insanely busy, but rather than waiting a week until I have built up enough material for some long posts, I think I'll go with short updates (think of them as mini-cliffhangers ) this week.

* * * * *

Chapter 117

Mole screamed as the world went dark around her, and the unholy blight tore at her senses. The innate goodness of her heart increased her suffering now, as the foulness of the evil spell sought out the bright places in her soul, searing them with its dank corruption.

But then, just when she thought that she could not bear another instant, the spell ended and the black cloud faded. Still sick from the blight, she saw the kuo-toa cleric who had cast the spell. The creature was huge, nearly seven feet in height, and covered with a second skin of silvery metal plate armor that glistened wetly in the cold moisture of the temple. It carried a massive staff with a nasty-looking pincer on one end.

Beside her, Arun, looking equally ravaged by the terrible spell, nonetheless trod bravely forward, hefting his hammer as he confronted the foul high priest.

“You die now, monster,” he said, lifting his heavy hammer and pointing it like a spear at the cleric’s chest.

And to Mole’s surprise, the cleric retreated, back to the stone portal that stood ajar behind the lobster-woman statue. Not surprisingly, Arun followed.

“Come on guys, he’s getting away!” Mole yelled down to the others, before starting after Arun. Fighting down the roiling sensation in her gut that still threatened to overcome her, she tucked her little crossbow into her belt—she’d never bring down an monster like that cleric with that!—and drew out her slender sword. Dannel, rushing up the stairs, shouted something after her, but the words were lost in the acoustics of the chamber and the pounding of her blood in her ears. The kuo-toa high priest—Margh-Michto, she remembered, the name given him by the kuo-toa they’d spoken to before—darted through the half-open portal into a smaller chamber beyond. Arun followed him at a deliberate pace, his armored body clanking loudly with each step.

“Um... Arun, maybe we’d best wait for the others...”

But it didn’t look like the paladin was stopping, and she didn’t want to miss the trouble that was no doubt waiting for him in the priest’s lair, so she hastened her pace, catching up to the dwarf even as he strode boldly through the stone threshold.

Mole took in the features of the room in an instant; the grim carvings on the walls, the relatively low ceiling, the two inches of water that covered the slightly sunken floor. There were other exits, stone doors in the walls to the left and right, but Mole didn’t really have time to examine them, for the kuo-toa high priest was there, as in right on top of them, driving forward to slam the heavy door shut behind them. Arun responded quickly, slamming his hammer into the fish-man’s side, but Margh-Michto’s heavy armor was fashioned of mithral, and it absorbed most of the force of the impact. The stone door clanged as it slammed shut—or mostly shut, Mole amended; it was jammed slightly open by something stuck in the threshold.

Even so, she didn’t think it was a good idea to give the cleric time for more tricks, so she quickly skirted around Arun to come upon the kuo-toa from behind.

But before she could get into position, Margh-Michto stepped back, and uttered a terrible and harsh croak replete with evil power. Arun, recognizing that the priest was calling upon another spell, lifted his hammer and rushed forward to strike, but even as the weapon began its downward arc, the kuo-toa finished his dread magic. The power of the priest’s fell patron flowed at the command of her servant, drawing upon elemental energies to shape their surroundings to his will.

And in a flash, the room was suddenly filled to the ceiling with water.

 

[wolff96]

Whoa. Now *that* is going to cause some serious problems after combat!

 

[Lazybones]

Whoa. Now *that* is going to cause some serious problems after combat!

I think it's going to cause some serious problems right now!

* * * * *

Chapter 118


Dannel ran across the platform toward the dark doorway at full speed, Hodge and Zenna somewhere behind him. Arun disappeared after the fleeing cleric, Mole only a step behind, and even as his mind formed the expectation he saw the door slam shut.

Damn it, people, how many times do you have to walk into an ambush! he thought even as he leapt forward, knowing that he would be too late. At the last instant, though, impelled as much by instinct as by conscious thought, he stabbed his sword forward into the closing gap a spare instant before the heavy stone door clanged noisily against the metal. Dannel imagined that he could sense the steel snapping under the force, but the masterwork blade held, and the door was pinned slightly open.

The elf, suspecting what the slamming door had in store for his friends, lowered his shoulder against the door to thrust it back open. The stone yielded, or started to, but then, suddenly, it slammed back hard again against his sword with almost enough force to knock him down, followed a heartbeat later by a sharp wedge of water that poured through the narrow slot between the door and the jam like a knife, soaking him and sending a sharp jolt of cold through his body.

“Arun! Mole!” he yelled, knowing that they would not be able to hear him.

Mole found the transition from a room that was mostly air and slightly water to the reverse to be an entirely unpleasant experience. Her body, loaded with her clothes and pouches, wasn’t sure if it wanted to float or sink, and for a moment she felt disoriented, her breath burning in her chest as he lungs craved for the reassurance of fresh air. She was barely able to keep enough presence of mind to retain her grip on her sword; yes, she’d need that—and with her magical boots boosting her, she kicked off of the floor and rose upward to where a small pocket of air remained between the water filling the chamber and the low ceiling. She took a sweet breath as her head crested the surface, then the weight of her sodden garments pulled her back under.

Then she remembered Arun.

She couldn’t see the dwarf, whose heavy armor meant that he would not be making any easy swims up for a breath of air. But she could sense the shadowy figure that slid, even clad in plate, effortlessly through the changed environment toward the paladin. Arun sensed the coming of the cleric as well, but his limbs moved leadenly through the water, unable to stop the cleric as it slid past him, touching him with a slimy hand as it passed. Pain exploded from the touch, and red misted the waters around the dwarf as blood erupted from his nose and ears. The dwarf dropped his now-useless hammer and tried to grab the cleric as it swam past, but he may have been trying to grapple a waterfall, as the kuo-toa slipped free from his grasp and slid away.

Mole tried to follow its path, but quickly lost it in the murky blackness of the water.

We’re in trouble, she thought.

A mere few paces distant, on the far side of the door, the rest of the companions tried unsuccessfully to aid their hard-pressed companions. Dannel tried again unsuccessfully to force the door, only managing to fall as the continuing deluge of water turned the already slick stone of the platform into an almost impossible slide. The elf pulled himself up by grabbing onto the hilt of his sword, still jutting awkwardly from the door jam, embedded in the rushing flow of water.

“Out o’ the way!” came a booming dwarven voice. Hodge rushed in, the water parting around him as he came, and with an angry roar he jammed the head of his axe into the narrow gap. Barely keeping his place against the onrushing flow, he worked the blade deeper into the thin opening, until several inches of the steel were wedged into place.

“Open!” he yelled at the door, bracing himself and pulling, using the axe as a lever to force the door.

Dannel pulled himself up enough to grab onto the haft of the axe with the dwarf, the two of them pulling with all their might. The door opened a finger’s span wider, releasing even more water in a torrent through the opening. The elf and dwarf clung together to the handle of the axe, gasping for breaths as the water rushed over them, focusing all of their will upon their effort.

Zenna, a few paces further back, was unable to do anything but watch, her own powers useless against this challenge. Suddenly, though, an idea came to her, and she started forward toward the two working at the door. She barely made it two paces, however, before she slipped on the wet stone, falling painfully to her knees.

Arun could feel the flow of water around him, and had a general idea of where the door was behind him. His chest burned with the lack of air, but of greater concern was the evil cleric lurking in the waters nearby. With his darkvision he could vaguely make out the presence of Maugh-Michto in the murky water, but even moreso the foul evil of the creature burned within his senses like a beacon. There... coming, again. The paladin tensed himself, unsure how he could battle an adversary adapted to this environment that alone would kill him even without outside intervention.

This time, however, the kuo-toa cleric stopped its rush short, instead thrusting a spear-like object at the dwarf’s neck. Realizing what was coming, but again too slow against the press of water to react, Arun could only bring his hands up to claw at the heavy grasp of the pincer staff as it closed heavily around his throat.

 

[Broccli_Head]

The tension builds....