Broccli_Head
Explorer
ummm.....maybe Arun becomes embodied by the avatar of Moradin?
It looks very grim indeed for the party.
It looks very grim indeed for the party.
Shackled City Epic: "Vengeance" (story concluded)
- Thread starter Lazybones
- Start date
Lazybones
Adventurer
I thought about leaving this as a cliffhanger until Monday,. but I have to stay honest to my advertising in the thread header.
* * * * *
Chapter 362
Dannel was dead. Hodge was down; if he wasn’t dead now, he surely would be in a few moments. Nidrama was gone, the life crushed out of her by the glabrezu Nabthatoron. Mole was currently held firmly in the grasp of said demon.
Arun stood alone against an overwhelming force. In addition to the haraknin mercenaries and their giant commander, there was still Kaurophon, who hadn’t contributed much thus far, and whose considerable spellpower remained in reserve. Freija Doorgan had unleashed terrible magic upon the intruders, but still maintained numerous spells in her arsenal. And both a kelubar and Decrihni Baiul blocked the only means of escape.
Arun lashed out, taking the kelubar’s lunging arm off at the elbow, and driving even the fierce Aszithef back with a powerful backswing. As the demodand gave way, Arun shifted his position, taking up a defensive stance over Hodge’s unmoving form. A few paces away lay Dannel’s corpse, his face left intact with a look of incredulity frozen on his fair features, his torso open in a gory mess below. A momentary lull fell over the battle, with the haraknin facing off against the paladin on one side, and the crippled kelubar and the accompanying cleric on the other. Mole struggled in the glabrezu’s grasp, but could not escape the pincer that crushed her body like a steel vise.
“You fought… bravely, noble warrior,” Freija said, stepping forward. Her words were given the lie by the thick sarcasm that dripped from every syllable. “You were bold indeed, to think that you could undo the plans of the Cagewrights.”
“You will fail,” Arun said, wiping blood from his mouth with the back of his gauntleted fist. He stood in a heap of sundered flesh and gore, surrounded by the mangled forms of a kelubar and the two haraknin he’d slain. They could not all rush him at once, but several of the haraknin had already recovered their bows, and loaded steel-tipped sheaf arrows to the strings.
Freija Doorgan laughed. “Your inability to accept the reality of your defeat is amusing, but I have little time to spare for idle parley. The hour of our victory is upon us, you know. Were we less pressed for time, I might enjoy watching you break, paladin. They all break, in the end.”
“I will enjoy seeing your broken corpse, dwarf,” Nabthatoron intoned.
“And my vengeance is fulfilled, as well,” came a voice, which materialized into the familiar figure of Kaurophon, as the sorcerer shed his invisibility. “It is a shame; you could have been truly great, if you had chosen instead to serve me as Lord of Occipitus.”
Baiul spat something incoherent, but quickly subsided.
Arun stood defiant. The bright glow of his holy sword seemed to intensify in his grip, and the paladin’s bearing, for all the odds against him, and the friends he’d lost, there was a noble glory that infused him that these foes could not shatter. He’d drawn upon his link to his patron, filling him with Order’s Wrath as he prepared for the final stand that had to end in only one way. He looked up at Mole, met the gnome’s eyes briefly. He would do his best to give her a chance to escape, at the last.
“So be it,” Doorgan said. With a desultory wave of her hand to her troops, she stepped back to watch the end, her eyes casting a feral glow in the echoed brightness of the lava pools.
Time seemed to slow as many things happened at once.
Baiul, hearing a noise behind him through the mad gibbering that sounded more or less constantly in the prison of his insane mind, turned around. His eyes widened in disbelief as he witnessed something unusual, if not unprecedented. A small group of fiends had approached them from behind. The sleek, sensual figure of a succubus was in the lead, her eyes pinpoints of burning fire. With her was a fat imp, walking along the ground, and the ebon figure of a jovoc demon, clad in a coat of black plates, clanking slightly with every movement.
For a heartbeat, Baiul was too surprised to react, his jaw hanging open as he regarded the newcomers. Just as his mind was starting to register that something wasn’t quite right, the succubus stepped forward, and spoke a single word of power.
Reality trembled as a surge of clarion energy swept outward in a wave from the demoness. Baiul screamed and clutched at his ears, deafened by the purity of the sound, but he was not the worst off. The vrock demon instantly vanished, banished back to its home plane, as did the crippled kelubar. The haraknin likewise staggered back, and more than half of them disappeared as they were driven from the Prime. Of the three that remained, two were struck down, paralyzed and helpless, while Aszithef, while keeping her feet, was blinded. The giant was not affected, nor was the glabrezu, whose spell resistance held against the potency of the magic. Nor was Freija Doorgan harmed by the holy word, although she shrieked in anger as the tide of battle suddenly shifted against her.
Baiul, gibbering madly, lifted his spiked chain to bring down this false succubus who’d spoken a word that should have been anathema to her. But before he could strike, the jovoc lifted a heavy axe and tore into him with an unbridled ferocity. He could not hear the mighty impact of the weapon as it slammed into him repeatedly, but he certainly felt it as the strokes crushed armor plates and the bones underneath. It was the last thing he felt, as a final stroke drove through his gorget and separated his head from his shoulders.
Invisibility fell from another figure like a shed cloak, revealing a tall, bearded man clad in a dark tunic over which he wore a shirt of shimmering black chain links. He had a longbow at the ready, and as he became visible he released an arrow at the glabrezu. Even as the first shaft was fired, he was reaching back to his quiver for a second, firing and aiming in a rapid sequence that bespoke great training. The arrows looked tiny against the hulking figure of the huge demon, but each of them seemed to strike with the force of a battering ram, staggering the glabrezu. The first two shots sank deep into its body, while the third penetrated its arm just above the claw. The force of that shot slightly loosened its grip upon Mole, who instantly seized the opportunity to slip free and drop lightly to the ground.
“Benzan, wizard!” the imp warned, pointing across the room. The archer looked furious as he scanned the battlefield, his gaze finally settling upon Freija Doorgan. The conjurer, no stranger to the fury of men, nevertheless felt a cold chill at the intensity of that stare.
“Where’s my daughter?” Benzan shouted, as he fitted another shaft to his deadly bow.
* * * * *
Chapter 362
Dannel was dead. Hodge was down; if he wasn’t dead now, he surely would be in a few moments. Nidrama was gone, the life crushed out of her by the glabrezu Nabthatoron. Mole was currently held firmly in the grasp of said demon.
Arun stood alone against an overwhelming force. In addition to the haraknin mercenaries and their giant commander, there was still Kaurophon, who hadn’t contributed much thus far, and whose considerable spellpower remained in reserve. Freija Doorgan had unleashed terrible magic upon the intruders, but still maintained numerous spells in her arsenal. And both a kelubar and Decrihni Baiul blocked the only means of escape.
Arun lashed out, taking the kelubar’s lunging arm off at the elbow, and driving even the fierce Aszithef back with a powerful backswing. As the demodand gave way, Arun shifted his position, taking up a defensive stance over Hodge’s unmoving form. A few paces away lay Dannel’s corpse, his face left intact with a look of incredulity frozen on his fair features, his torso open in a gory mess below. A momentary lull fell over the battle, with the haraknin facing off against the paladin on one side, and the crippled kelubar and the accompanying cleric on the other. Mole struggled in the glabrezu’s grasp, but could not escape the pincer that crushed her body like a steel vise.
“You fought… bravely, noble warrior,” Freija said, stepping forward. Her words were given the lie by the thick sarcasm that dripped from every syllable. “You were bold indeed, to think that you could undo the plans of the Cagewrights.”
“You will fail,” Arun said, wiping blood from his mouth with the back of his gauntleted fist. He stood in a heap of sundered flesh and gore, surrounded by the mangled forms of a kelubar and the two haraknin he’d slain. They could not all rush him at once, but several of the haraknin had already recovered their bows, and loaded steel-tipped sheaf arrows to the strings.
Freija Doorgan laughed. “Your inability to accept the reality of your defeat is amusing, but I have little time to spare for idle parley. The hour of our victory is upon us, you know. Were we less pressed for time, I might enjoy watching you break, paladin. They all break, in the end.”
“I will enjoy seeing your broken corpse, dwarf,” Nabthatoron intoned.
“And my vengeance is fulfilled, as well,” came a voice, which materialized into the familiar figure of Kaurophon, as the sorcerer shed his invisibility. “It is a shame; you could have been truly great, if you had chosen instead to serve me as Lord of Occipitus.”
Baiul spat something incoherent, but quickly subsided.
Arun stood defiant. The bright glow of his holy sword seemed to intensify in his grip, and the paladin’s bearing, for all the odds against him, and the friends he’d lost, there was a noble glory that infused him that these foes could not shatter. He’d drawn upon his link to his patron, filling him with Order’s Wrath as he prepared for the final stand that had to end in only one way. He looked up at Mole, met the gnome’s eyes briefly. He would do his best to give her a chance to escape, at the last.
“So be it,” Doorgan said. With a desultory wave of her hand to her troops, she stepped back to watch the end, her eyes casting a feral glow in the echoed brightness of the lava pools.
Time seemed to slow as many things happened at once.
Baiul, hearing a noise behind him through the mad gibbering that sounded more or less constantly in the prison of his insane mind, turned around. His eyes widened in disbelief as he witnessed something unusual, if not unprecedented. A small group of fiends had approached them from behind. The sleek, sensual figure of a succubus was in the lead, her eyes pinpoints of burning fire. With her was a fat imp, walking along the ground, and the ebon figure of a jovoc demon, clad in a coat of black plates, clanking slightly with every movement.
For a heartbeat, Baiul was too surprised to react, his jaw hanging open as he regarded the newcomers. Just as his mind was starting to register that something wasn’t quite right, the succubus stepped forward, and spoke a single word of power.
Reality trembled as a surge of clarion energy swept outward in a wave from the demoness. Baiul screamed and clutched at his ears, deafened by the purity of the sound, but he was not the worst off. The vrock demon instantly vanished, banished back to its home plane, as did the crippled kelubar. The haraknin likewise staggered back, and more than half of them disappeared as they were driven from the Prime. Of the three that remained, two were struck down, paralyzed and helpless, while Aszithef, while keeping her feet, was blinded. The giant was not affected, nor was the glabrezu, whose spell resistance held against the potency of the magic. Nor was Freija Doorgan harmed by the holy word, although she shrieked in anger as the tide of battle suddenly shifted against her.
Baiul, gibbering madly, lifted his spiked chain to bring down this false succubus who’d spoken a word that should have been anathema to her. But before he could strike, the jovoc lifted a heavy axe and tore into him with an unbridled ferocity. He could not hear the mighty impact of the weapon as it slammed into him repeatedly, but he certainly felt it as the strokes crushed armor plates and the bones underneath. It was the last thing he felt, as a final stroke drove through his gorget and separated his head from his shoulders.
Invisibility fell from another figure like a shed cloak, revealing a tall, bearded man clad in a dark tunic over which he wore a shirt of shimmering black chain links. He had a longbow at the ready, and as he became visible he released an arrow at the glabrezu. Even as the first shaft was fired, he was reaching back to his quiver for a second, firing and aiming in a rapid sequence that bespoke great training. The arrows looked tiny against the hulking figure of the huge demon, but each of them seemed to strike with the force of a battering ram, staggering the glabrezu. The first two shots sank deep into its body, while the third penetrated its arm just above the claw. The force of that shot slightly loosened its grip upon Mole, who instantly seized the opportunity to slip free and drop lightly to the ground.
“Benzan, wizard!” the imp warned, pointing across the room. The archer looked furious as he scanned the battlefield, his gaze finally settling upon Freija Doorgan. The conjurer, no stranger to the fury of men, nevertheless felt a cold chill at the intensity of that stare.
“Where’s my daughter?” Benzan shouted, as he fitted another shaft to his deadly bow.
Neverwinter Knight
First Post
Not at all what I expected, but much, much better !!!
Congrats, LB, this twist is awesome.
Congrats, LB, this twist is awesome.
Wow, I left yesterday morning depressed and disillusioned, figuring it was either over, or something lame would happen. Thanks for not allowing that. I am impressed with the twist. It's plausible and I am glad someone cares enough about Zenna to do something.
I would like Zenna back, I have always been a fan of hers, and miss something with angst in it (okay I'm a sap). I like the rest of the characters, but they don't show much in the way of different thought. While their personalities are interesting and the dialogue exemplary, it seems like "ooh Eeevil, let's kill it" is the chant of the group.
Thanks for not waiting until next week. That would have sucked.
FInally, maybe if the new group joins them, they will actually have a chance.
Sandtiger
I would like Zenna back, I have always been a fan of hers, and miss something with angst in it (okay I'm a sap). I like the rest of the characters, but they don't show much in the way of different thought. While their personalities are interesting and the dialogue exemplary, it seems like "ooh Eeevil, let's kill it" is the chant of the group.
Thanks for not waiting until next week. That would have sucked.
FInally, maybe if the new group joins them, they will actually have a chance.
Sandtiger
Broccli_Head
Explorer
Hah! Can't belive I forgot about the lineage of Mole and Zenna.
So what level are the heroes from the West now?
So what level are the heroes from the West now?
Didn't see that coming. But quite logical actually. And the groups combined would really be more fitting for this meatgrinder of an module 
And as the above poster I'm wondering about the "old" heroes. I'm guessing ECL 16. That fits with the Holy word spell, Dana would just be able to manage that at ECL 15 (she was one level lower than the others).
And as the above poster I'm wondering about the "old" heroes. I'm guessing ECL 16. That fits with the Holy word spell, Dana would just be able to manage that at ECL 15 (she was one level lower than the others).
Richard Rawen
First Post
*big Grin*
Yep, Really Big
Yep, Really Big
Ok can someone fill me in on who these people are? This is the only story board I have read that Lazybones has written so I am slightly confused.
Benzan, I take it is Zenna's father. Is the succubus her mother? Who else is with this party?
Even if I am slightly confused, its still a good story.
Benzan, I take it is Zenna's father. Is the succubus her mother? Who else is with this party?
Even if I am slightly confused, its still a good story.
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