Shackled City Epic: "Vengeance" (story concluded)
- Thread starter Lazybones
- Start date
Black Bard
First Post
Great as always, Lazy!!
I wonder what the chalice contained...
I wonder what the chalice contained...
That was great... Right after rumors of the heavenly visitor in the night, have the hags pretend to be angels. I don't know whether that was your imagination, LB, or the writers of the module, but it's brilliant either way.
Great descriptions, LB. Just love it when you update this SH.
Great descriptions, LB. Just love it when you update this SH.
Lazybones
Adventurer
I don't think I describe it in detail later in the story, so I'll do so here. The stuff is called amaranth elixir, and it provides a significant bonus to strength at a cost of wisdom. Its efficacy is based on size, but for a medium-sized human, it gives (IIRC) +8 to strength and -4 to wisdom. The hags use it to keep their giants in line, and also in their dealings with Alek Tercival... but more on that later.Black Bard said:
Wish I could take credit, but that was in the module!wolff96 said:
I am WAY ahead in the story (super slow week at work), so post-a-day should continue for a while. Thanks to all for posting, and keeping the story on page 1. Here's your Friday cliffhanger (as if yesterday wasn't enough!):
* * * * *
Chapter 168
With half of their number already under the sway of the foul hags, the situation suddenly looked grim for the companions from Cauldron.
To Arun Goldenshield, however, his mandate was clear. The creatures before him were evil, corrupt to a depth he’d rarely felt since he had taken the oaths of service, and had gained a sensitivity to such things. And so he leapt at the nearest hag, bringing his hammer down in a powerful smite backed by the full force of his strength.
He hit the hag squarely in the chest.
And nothing happened.
The blow would have knocked a man back ten feet, to gasp out his last seconds in agony. But the hag simply laughed, and held up a hand mockingly to the dwarf. Arun could see that she wore a thin silver ring, tarnished and greasy.
“My pretty protects me, foolish dwarf!” she cackled. Before he could adjust to strike again, she suddenly reached out and grasped his face with both of her clammy hands. Arun drew back in disgust, but as he did so, he could feel his strength leaving him, drawn out by the fell power of the hag’s touch.
“I will leave you a feeble husk, paladin,” she promised. “Then you shall be my plaything, not the toy of some dour smelly dwarf god!”
Zenna watched with horror as Morgan charged straight toward her, his massive sword lifted high above his head. Having seen him fight, she knew that she would have no chance against his strength and skill, that he would cut her down... She felt a sharp mental prod from without, a clear attack from the hags that she angrily drove out with a concerted effort of will. You may be able to convert that shallow fool, but you won’t get into my mind! she thought, knowing that the hags couldn’t hear, but letting the thought steady her as she calmly reached into herself and drew out the power of her magic.
For all her contempt of him, she could feel the power of Morgan’s will, even subjugated as it was to the domination of the hags, and it was considerable. Only desperation, she suspected, gave her the power to batter through his mental defenses, and lay her spell upon him.
The cleric halted in mid-charge, quivering unsteadily, his muscles twitching as his mind tried to shake off the power of her hold person spell.
“Zenna!” Dannel cried, turning toward her after firing off an arrow that bounced harmlessly from a hag’s armored hide.
“I cannot hold him!” she cried, seeing the effort in Morgan’s face, and even more feeling the force of his will gathering.
The elf dropped his bow and ran toward the priest, drawing his sword as he came. Morgan could do nothing to stop him, could not even turn as Dannel knocked off his helmet with his left hand, and with his right brought the hilt of his sword down into the back of the cleric’s skull.
The spell holding him snapped with the knight’s consciousness, and Morgan collapsed in a heap on the floor.
“Damn, that actually felt good,” the elf said softly, before reversing his sword and rushing toward the hags.
Sitting on the floor in the midst of a battleground, Mole found herself unable to grasp the myriad and shifting thoughts that flowed through her mind. Noise barraged her from all around, familiar voices that seemed important, but whose significance she couldn’t quite sort out from the babble in her head. Something caught her eye, and she looked up to see the looming silver sculpture, the alien table with its odd angles and uncomfortable lines.
You have to climb that, came a voice in her mind.
Grinning, she got up and rushed to comply.
Hodge, meanwhile, had started to wander off in the general direction of the west corridor, the passage from which the hags had emerged. As he passed near one of the hags, however, a sudden look of pure rage exploded on his face, and lifting his axe he charged toward the creature. The hag met him with a look of equal ferocity on her face, and the two combatants exchanged powerful blows. His axe managed a shallow cut that drew a look of surprise from the haggard creature, but she in turn tore into him with her claws, opening painful gashes on his arms and torso.
He lifted the axe to strike again, but as abruptly as it had come the rage disappeared, and he found himself beclouded again by the hag’s confusion spell.
Cackling to herself, the hag reached for his face.
Having learned the hard way of the durability of his foe, Arun shifted from an all-out attack to a careful assault seeking vulnerabilities in this dangerous adversary. He feinted another powerful swing, and when the hag reached out an arm to touch him again, turned his stroke and brought the hammer up to squarely strike the hag’s arm just below the elbow. The awkward blow would have snapped the arm of any normal person, but while the hag’s thick skin and iron bones absorbed most of the impact, the way she painfully drew back told him that his blow had hurt it some.
But some wasn’t going to be enough, he knew.
Dannel charged toward the hag threatening Hodge, his magical sword flashing in the artificial light of the chamber. As he came, he lifted his voice in song, driving back the fell cackling of the hags and reinforcing his comrades with the stirring confidence of his melody. The hag saw him coming and turned to meet him, but even as she reached for him with her claws his sword flashed, and she drew back, bleeding from a gash in her side.
“Oh, you will pay for that, elf!” she hissed.
Dannel’s response was to sing louder, offering a chorus that promised the triumph of light over shadow as he leapt into another series of feints and thrusts, forcing the hag onto the defensive.
With Morgan at least temporarily out of the picture, Zenna lifted her wand once more. She could still feel a thin tendril of stored energy within it, but knew even as she called upon its power she knew that it was for the last time. The acid arrow struck the lead hag on the hip, the eager magical substance burning through her ragged shift instantly and savaging the ugly flesh beneath. The hag shot Zenna a look of pure hatred. “Sisters! Join with me!”
Zenna wasn’t sure what that meant, but she didn’t like the sound of it. She started running toward the hags, knowing she stood little chance against them in melee, but without any spells left with which she could hope to affect them from a distance. But if she could get close enough for a color spray or shocking grasp... a thin hope indeed, but in this desperate confrontation, with half of them already out of the fight, even a thin chance was better than none at all.
The two hags flanking the leader turned toward the one who had spoken, and Zenna felt a tingle on her skin as magical power was drawn through the chamber into the combined force of the hag covey. The lead hag laughed—
* * * * *
COMING NEXT WEEK: KNIGHTFALL
SolidSnake
First Post
Lazybones said:
That's not going to be good for business...
Lazybones
Adventurer
Chapter 169
The hags drew upon the combined power of their covey, seeking to unleash a power that would turn the battle decisively and finally in their favor. The lead hag laughed as dark energies flowed at her beckoning...
And then Arun brought his hammer around in an arc, catching his distracted foe solidly at the base of her neck. The hag screeched and flopped to the ground. The lead hag turned to him and let out a scream that seemed pulled from the very pits of darkness and suffering as the unity of the covey was broken.
“No!” she cried.
“Yes,” Arun replied simply, bringing up the hammer again.
The hag vanished, followed a few moments later by the other one.
Zenna heard a fluttering of wings nearby. Another foe, she thought.
The voice of one of the hags sounded from the far corridor. “Get the last of those fool giants down here!” it commanded. The flapping of wings moved across the room—Dannel took a swung at the invisible form, and missed—and the double doors slid silently open as whatever it was escaped. As it fled Zenna cast a minor spell, casting about for magical auras.
“Are they still here?” Dannel asked, crossing the room to recover his bow. Arun, after making sure the hag he’d struck down was really dead, cautiously approached Hodge, who was sitting on the floor, muttering a babble of curses under his breath. Mole had disappeared, but after looking around the room Zenna finally saw her, perched atop the sculpture in the center of the room.
“They’re gone, for now,” Zenna said. Morgan, she saw, was starting to stir; Dannel saw as well and shot Zenna a querying look.
“If the spell was what I think it is, she’s still got him,” she said. That was enough for the elf, who put him down again with another sharp blow.
“We’ve got to get out of here, now,” he said, just loud enough so that Zenna and Arun both heard. “We cannot take on more giants, not like this.” He turned toward the sculpture. “Mole, come down from there!”
Arun came over, leading Hodge. The dwarf seemed quiescent for now, but still hadn’t fully recovered his senses. Mole suddenly turned and leapt off of the sculpture, plummeting face first toward the ground fifteen feet below. Zenna let out a startled screech, and Dannel only barely managed to catch her, setting her down on the ground unharmed. The gnome shook her head.
“What just happened?” she asked.
Hodge, too, was coming around; Zenna recognized it by the fact that his curses took on a definite clarity and passion directed toward the departed hags.
“We’ve got to get out of here,” Dannel repeated.
“What ‘bout him?” Hodge said, gesturing toward the fallen cleric.
“Bring him,” Dannel said. The dwarves shared a look and grabbed the cleric. It took the two of them to lift him enough to drag, heavy as he was with his armor.
“Bring his sword, too,” Dannel reminded them. “He’ll need it, when we come back.”
Hodge was puffing as he and Arun struggled to drag the priest toward the exit corridor. “Yer know, yer could help a bit,” he suggested, along with something else under his breath that wasn’t quite audible. Zenna reached down and picked up the sword. “What do you have in mind, Dannel?” she asked.
“Rear guard,” he said. “Carrying him you’ll never outrun those giants, if they decide to come after us.”
“But—“
“There’s no time to talk about it!” he said. “Now go!”
Even as he spoke, the elf darted up along the wall, using his magical slippers to scale the sheer surface effortlessly.
“Mole, come on!” Zenna said, from the corridor.
“I think I’d better hang back and make sure he doesn’t get his head smooshed,” the gnome said casually, standing by the base of the sculpture. “You go on, we’ll follow.” She grinned. “Don’t worry, I can outrun them.”
Even as she turned back to the tunnel, to see Hodge and Arun barely halfway down its length toward the ruined gate, she felt a rumble that she knew was the heavy tread of giant footprints, drawing nearer. She looked back toward the corridor, knowing as well that the hags could return at any moment, that the foul things were far from beaten.
She felt torn inside, looking at the man she’d loved and hated, and her best friend, then back up the tunnel at the retreating dwarves. Lingering here herself would accomplish nothing, she knew, and the dwarves would need help when they reached the steep slope at the far end of the canyon.
With a last look back, she turned and ran down the corridor. When she heard a giant’s roar behind her, she did not falter, but kept running.
The hags drew upon the combined power of their covey, seeking to unleash a power that would turn the battle decisively and finally in their favor. The lead hag laughed as dark energies flowed at her beckoning...
And then Arun brought his hammer around in an arc, catching his distracted foe solidly at the base of her neck. The hag screeched and flopped to the ground. The lead hag turned to him and let out a scream that seemed pulled from the very pits of darkness and suffering as the unity of the covey was broken.
“No!” she cried.
“Yes,” Arun replied simply, bringing up the hammer again.
The hag vanished, followed a few moments later by the other one.
Zenna heard a fluttering of wings nearby. Another foe, she thought.
The voice of one of the hags sounded from the far corridor. “Get the last of those fool giants down here!” it commanded. The flapping of wings moved across the room—Dannel took a swung at the invisible form, and missed—and the double doors slid silently open as whatever it was escaped. As it fled Zenna cast a minor spell, casting about for magical auras.
“Are they still here?” Dannel asked, crossing the room to recover his bow. Arun, after making sure the hag he’d struck down was really dead, cautiously approached Hodge, who was sitting on the floor, muttering a babble of curses under his breath. Mole had disappeared, but after looking around the room Zenna finally saw her, perched atop the sculpture in the center of the room.
“They’re gone, for now,” Zenna said. Morgan, she saw, was starting to stir; Dannel saw as well and shot Zenna a querying look.
“If the spell was what I think it is, she’s still got him,” she said. That was enough for the elf, who put him down again with another sharp blow.
“We’ve got to get out of here, now,” he said, just loud enough so that Zenna and Arun both heard. “We cannot take on more giants, not like this.” He turned toward the sculpture. “Mole, come down from there!”
Arun came over, leading Hodge. The dwarf seemed quiescent for now, but still hadn’t fully recovered his senses. Mole suddenly turned and leapt off of the sculpture, plummeting face first toward the ground fifteen feet below. Zenna let out a startled screech, and Dannel only barely managed to catch her, setting her down on the ground unharmed. The gnome shook her head.
“What just happened?” she asked.
Hodge, too, was coming around; Zenna recognized it by the fact that his curses took on a definite clarity and passion directed toward the departed hags.
“We’ve got to get out of here,” Dannel repeated.
“What ‘bout him?” Hodge said, gesturing toward the fallen cleric.
“Bring him,” Dannel said. The dwarves shared a look and grabbed the cleric. It took the two of them to lift him enough to drag, heavy as he was with his armor.
“Bring his sword, too,” Dannel reminded them. “He’ll need it, when we come back.”
Hodge was puffing as he and Arun struggled to drag the priest toward the exit corridor. “Yer know, yer could help a bit,” he suggested, along with something else under his breath that wasn’t quite audible. Zenna reached down and picked up the sword. “What do you have in mind, Dannel?” she asked.
“Rear guard,” he said. “Carrying him you’ll never outrun those giants, if they decide to come after us.”
“But—“
“There’s no time to talk about it!” he said. “Now go!”
Even as he spoke, the elf darted up along the wall, using his magical slippers to scale the sheer surface effortlessly.
“Mole, come on!” Zenna said, from the corridor.
“I think I’d better hang back and make sure he doesn’t get his head smooshed,” the gnome said casually, standing by the base of the sculpture. “You go on, we’ll follow.” She grinned. “Don’t worry, I can outrun them.”
Even as she turned back to the tunnel, to see Hodge and Arun barely halfway down its length toward the ruined gate, she felt a rumble that she knew was the heavy tread of giant footprints, drawing nearer. She looked back toward the corridor, knowing as well that the hags could return at any moment, that the foul things were far from beaten.
She felt torn inside, looking at the man she’d loved and hated, and her best friend, then back up the tunnel at the retreating dwarves. Lingering here herself would accomplish nothing, she knew, and the dwarves would need help when they reached the steep slope at the far end of the canyon.
With a last look back, she turned and ran down the corridor. When she heard a giant’s roar behind her, she did not falter, but kept running.
Lazybones
Adventurer
Chapter 170
A last bright surge of late afternoon sunlight flared over the lip of the Demonskar, illuminating the dark shadow of a figure standing at the edge of the ancient pipe, looking down over the canyon below. Zenna stared at the shadowy figure, watching him even as the sun faded and night descended with startling rapidity over them.
She felt torn inside, twisted around by all that had happened. It was not a feeling she enjoyed; her entire existence had been built around the need for control. Even if it was just an illusion.
Movement at her side drew her attention around. Her mouth tightened as she looked down at Morgan, tightly bound, gagged and blindfolded with gobs of wax stuffed into his ears. They’d removed his armor, and his clothes were dirty with mud and blood, much of it his own.
Getting him up here had been an ordeal. With one of her last remaining spells she’d been able to restore some of the strength Arun had lost to the hags’ foul touch, but even so the slope had been difficult enough when they’d been coming down with ropes and without the burden of an unconscious, armored man.
The cleric shifted a bit, and subsided. Earlier, before they’d fully bound him with Mole’s ropes, he’d made an all-out effort to break free, forcing Arun to bloody his face with several punishing punches before he’d quieted enough for them to secure him.
Zenna rubbed her forehead, where a headache had taken up what felt like a permanent residence. This was a complication that they didn’t need.
The spell that the hag had used to subjugate Morgan’s will to her own was not one that she could herself cast—only truly powerful mages could—but she knew something of it. She’d suspected that the hag would be able to control him from a distance, a suspicion that seemed to be borne out in the way he had shammed remaining unconscious, until he had tried to escape. Any doubt that might have remained in their minds was eradicated a short while thereafter, when he had addressed them.
“You’re not going to get out of here alive,” he had told them. “You will share the fate of that fool manling who came before you, yes. The Demon knows that you are here, and He will be coming for you, shortly...”
He’d laughed until they’d gagged him, and after that they’d covered his eyes and ears, per Zenna’s suggestion. She wasn’t exactly sure how much information that the hag would be able to draw from him, but by the way he’d looked at them, and by his laugh... she preferred to err on the side of caution.
“How long’s ‘e goin’ to be like that?” Hodge had asked, after the initial fracas shortly after they’d gotten him up to the pipe.
“I don’t know, for sure,” she’d responded. “Days... maybe as much as a tenday.”
“We don’t have a tenday,” Arun had said.
“Can ye break the spell?” Hodge had asked.
Again, Zenna could only shake her head.
Hodge had suggested tossing the cleric into the boiling pool at the base of the canyon below the pipe, and while Zenna had known that the dwarf was joking—or at least mostly joking—she’d felt keenly the difficulty of their situation. Dannel and Mole had returned safely, the elf favoring his shoulder where a giant’s boulder had clipped him during their retreat, and the giants and the hags had not ventured an action against them in the two hours since they’d fled the complex at Vaprak’s Voice. Knowing that their foes had the ability to cloak themselves in invisibility, Mole had laid simple snares and tell-tales on the path leading up to the pipe, but those rudimentary preparations left Zenna with little sense of security. If their enemies wanted to counterattack, they would find a way. At least they’d hear the giants coming—that is, if they didn’t wait until the Voice was blowing...
“Rest easy, lass,” Arun said, coming over to her. “There’s naught we can do about it now, but gather our strength. Tomorrow, we’ll do what we can.”
“And if they come tonight?”
“Then we’re saved a trip back down,” the dwarf replied simply.
Zenna laughed despite herself. But then something else weighed in upon her, something triggered by Morgan’s words earlier. “Do you think that he was... I mean, do you believe that Alek Tercival’s dead, that this has all been for nothing?”
The dwarf’s stare was intense. “He may be dead, but that doesn’t make this journey meaningless. Evil festers in isolated places such as this one, but it is never content to remain apart. It seeks always to spread, to take hold where it can, to undermine the bulwarks of good and dig itself into the cracks that exist even in the most upright societies. Thus it falls upon those that can, to seek it out, and destroy it before it can grow to full fruition.”
Zenna felt a sudden stab of feeling inside of her. Her father had said something very similar to her, not so long ago. She turned away, unable to speak.
Arun clasped her shoulder. “Get some sleep, if you can. We’ll need you on the morrow, especially with the Helmite... indisposed.” With a sound that might have almost been a chuckle, he returned to where he’d laid his bedroll out a short distance away. When she looked over at him again, amazingly, he was asleep. Hodge, who’d eaten a double ration of food and then collapsed in a heap about an hour ago, was already fast asleep, a coarse snore drifting up from his prone form.
Zenna laid out her own bedroll. They would let her sleep uninterrupted, she knew, so that she would have the focus to regain her spells the next morning. The others would watch, sacrificing their own rest for her. She closed her eyes, doubting her ability to sleep through the confused thoughts dancing through her mind, but somehow sleep crept up and claimed her.
A last bright surge of late afternoon sunlight flared over the lip of the Demonskar, illuminating the dark shadow of a figure standing at the edge of the ancient pipe, looking down over the canyon below. Zenna stared at the shadowy figure, watching him even as the sun faded and night descended with startling rapidity over them.
She felt torn inside, twisted around by all that had happened. It was not a feeling she enjoyed; her entire existence had been built around the need for control. Even if it was just an illusion.
Movement at her side drew her attention around. Her mouth tightened as she looked down at Morgan, tightly bound, gagged and blindfolded with gobs of wax stuffed into his ears. They’d removed his armor, and his clothes were dirty with mud and blood, much of it his own.
Getting him up here had been an ordeal. With one of her last remaining spells she’d been able to restore some of the strength Arun had lost to the hags’ foul touch, but even so the slope had been difficult enough when they’d been coming down with ropes and without the burden of an unconscious, armored man.
The cleric shifted a bit, and subsided. Earlier, before they’d fully bound him with Mole’s ropes, he’d made an all-out effort to break free, forcing Arun to bloody his face with several punishing punches before he’d quieted enough for them to secure him.
Zenna rubbed her forehead, where a headache had taken up what felt like a permanent residence. This was a complication that they didn’t need.
The spell that the hag had used to subjugate Morgan’s will to her own was not one that she could herself cast—only truly powerful mages could—but she knew something of it. She’d suspected that the hag would be able to control him from a distance, a suspicion that seemed to be borne out in the way he had shammed remaining unconscious, until he had tried to escape. Any doubt that might have remained in their minds was eradicated a short while thereafter, when he had addressed them.
“You’re not going to get out of here alive,” he had told them. “You will share the fate of that fool manling who came before you, yes. The Demon knows that you are here, and He will be coming for you, shortly...”
He’d laughed until they’d gagged him, and after that they’d covered his eyes and ears, per Zenna’s suggestion. She wasn’t exactly sure how much information that the hag would be able to draw from him, but by the way he’d looked at them, and by his laugh... she preferred to err on the side of caution.
“How long’s ‘e goin’ to be like that?” Hodge had asked, after the initial fracas shortly after they’d gotten him up to the pipe.
“I don’t know, for sure,” she’d responded. “Days... maybe as much as a tenday.”
“We don’t have a tenday,” Arun had said.
“Can ye break the spell?” Hodge had asked.
Again, Zenna could only shake her head.
Hodge had suggested tossing the cleric into the boiling pool at the base of the canyon below the pipe, and while Zenna had known that the dwarf was joking—or at least mostly joking—she’d felt keenly the difficulty of their situation. Dannel and Mole had returned safely, the elf favoring his shoulder where a giant’s boulder had clipped him during their retreat, and the giants and the hags had not ventured an action against them in the two hours since they’d fled the complex at Vaprak’s Voice. Knowing that their foes had the ability to cloak themselves in invisibility, Mole had laid simple snares and tell-tales on the path leading up to the pipe, but those rudimentary preparations left Zenna with little sense of security. If their enemies wanted to counterattack, they would find a way. At least they’d hear the giants coming—that is, if they didn’t wait until the Voice was blowing...
“Rest easy, lass,” Arun said, coming over to her. “There’s naught we can do about it now, but gather our strength. Tomorrow, we’ll do what we can.”
“And if they come tonight?”
“Then we’re saved a trip back down,” the dwarf replied simply.
Zenna laughed despite herself. But then something else weighed in upon her, something triggered by Morgan’s words earlier. “Do you think that he was... I mean, do you believe that Alek Tercival’s dead, that this has all been for nothing?”
The dwarf’s stare was intense. “He may be dead, but that doesn’t make this journey meaningless. Evil festers in isolated places such as this one, but it is never content to remain apart. It seeks always to spread, to take hold where it can, to undermine the bulwarks of good and dig itself into the cracks that exist even in the most upright societies. Thus it falls upon those that can, to seek it out, and destroy it before it can grow to full fruition.”
Zenna felt a sudden stab of feeling inside of her. Her father had said something very similar to her, not so long ago. She turned away, unable to speak.
Arun clasped her shoulder. “Get some sleep, if you can. We’ll need you on the morrow, especially with the Helmite... indisposed.” With a sound that might have almost been a chuckle, he returned to where he’d laid his bedroll out a short distance away. When she looked over at him again, amazingly, he was asleep. Hodge, who’d eaten a double ration of food and then collapsed in a heap about an hour ago, was already fast asleep, a coarse snore drifting up from his prone form.
Zenna laid out her own bedroll. They would let her sleep uninterrupted, she knew, so that she would have the focus to regain her spells the next morning. The others would watch, sacrificing their own rest for her. She closed her eyes, doubting her ability to sleep through the confused thoughts dancing through her mind, but somehow sleep crept up and claimed her.
Black Bard
First Post
What's that spell the hags cast on Morgan?
Just fabulous...
Man, I was just waiting for the moment when a strange creature would appear and cast a heal spell on the defeated monster, followed by an enlarge ...
Just fabulous...
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