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Shackled City Epic: "Vengeance" (story concluded)
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<blockquote data-quote="Lazybones" data-source="post: 1020005" data-attributes="member: 143"><p>Chapter 12</p><p></p><p>Jzadirune.</p><p></p><p>Once a lively place, even buried deep within the earth under Cauldron’s slumbering volcano, filled with the sounds of its gnomish residents’ labors and their sport. </p><p></p><p>That was before the Vanishing came. </p><p></p><p>The product of a botched magical experiment, it crept upon the gnomes of Jzadirune like an assassin come in the night. Before they could even diagnose what went wrong, a goodly percentage of the enclave’s residents had contracted the plague, and begun the inexorable fading that would eventually lead their complete disappearance, leaving not even a drop of blood to mark that they had ever been at all. </p><p></p><p>Now Jzadirune was silent, abandoned by those who had built it... but no longer uninhabited...</p><p></p><p>Arun led the way down the stairs, negotiating the steps with ease despite his armored bulk. As a dwarf, he had no difficulty seeing in the dark, but while Zenna shared the gift of darkvision as a product of her mixed heritage, both Mole and Ruphos required light. The cleric, bringing up the rear, bore a lamp taken from Ghelve’s shop, its flickering flame casting a tenuous glow that cast long shadows ahead of his companions as they negotiated the stairs that seemed to twist ever deeper into the earth. </p><p></p><p>But finally the stairs came to an end, depositing them in a square chamber of worked stone perhaps forty feet on a side. A corridor exited the chamber on the far wall opposite where they entered, and to their left stood two unusual doors, round wooden portals set into thick thresholds of dressed stone. One of the doors was partly open, rolled aside enough so that they could see that the outer edge of the portal resembled the notched teeth of a gear. Light shone from that opening, a golden shaft that spilled out in a long angle across the room’s floor.</p><p></p><p>“Do you hear that?” Mole asked, as they came to a halt.</p><p></p><p>As the echoes of the sound of their footsteps and the clatter of their gear faded, they all <em>could</em> hear it, a sound of whispers, rustling leaves, and faint laughter that bordered just on the edges of their perception. The noises were merry, quite a contrast to the dark and heavy atmosphere that the abandoned hold seemed to hold for the four adventurers. The sounds persisted, not acknowledging the presence of intruders here.</p><p></p><p>“A persistent illusion, perhaps,” Zenna suggested.</p><p></p><p>“What are those?” Ruphos asked, holding his lamp aloft to get a better look at the walls. The light glinted off of metal objects that hung from the walls at regular intervals around the perimeter of the room. </p><p></p><p>“Masks,” Mole said, walking nearer the walls, scanning the room around her as she walked, her crossbow loaded and ready in her hands. “Made of copper, it looks like... hmm, I wonder how much they’re worth?”</p><p></p><p>“Careful, Mole,” Zenna said. “Something’s not right here, I can feel it.”</p><p></p><p>“Ah, you worry too much,” the gnome said. But she kept her distance close to the others. </p><p></p><p>Arun was more direct, walking straight to the partially opened door. It appeared that the round doors were designed to roll into an open space within the jam, to the side. A heavy piece of stone had been wedged into the door’s gears, holding it open. As they all gathered around the dwarf, they could see that there was writing on the door, a single rune etched in bold lines into the reinforced wooden beams of the portal. </p><p></p><p>“It’s a gnomish letter ‘A’,” Mole told them. “There’s a ‘Z’ on that other door,” she said, indicating the adjacent doorway that was fully closed. </p><p></p><p>“Decent work,” the dwarf noted, peering into the lit space beyond the door. A non-descript chamber lay beyond; the light originated from a shining object in the center of the floor. A few squat objects that were probably chests were scattered haphazardly along the walls of the room. The door wasn’t very large, and the stone held it only half-open, but the dwarf slung his shield on its long strap across his back, and cautiously grasped the door. </p><p></p><p>“Maybe I should go first, check it out,” Mole suggested helpfully. </p><p></p><p>“Patience is a virtue of the long-lived,” Arun said, as he gave the door an exploratory heave. The door rolled easily enough within its mechanism, and Mole reached in to relocate the stone to hold it more fully open. The dwarf nodded to her, and reaching for his shield, stepped forward into the room beyond the door. </p><p></p><p>And cried out in surprise as two dark forms lunged out from the shadows flanking the portal, and thrust at him with slender blades.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Lazybones, post: 1020005, member: 143"] Chapter 12 Jzadirune. Once a lively place, even buried deep within the earth under Cauldron’s slumbering volcano, filled with the sounds of its gnomish residents’ labors and their sport. That was before the Vanishing came. The product of a botched magical experiment, it crept upon the gnomes of Jzadirune like an assassin come in the night. Before they could even diagnose what went wrong, a goodly percentage of the enclave’s residents had contracted the plague, and begun the inexorable fading that would eventually lead their complete disappearance, leaving not even a drop of blood to mark that they had ever been at all. Now Jzadirune was silent, abandoned by those who had built it... but no longer uninhabited... Arun led the way down the stairs, negotiating the steps with ease despite his armored bulk. As a dwarf, he had no difficulty seeing in the dark, but while Zenna shared the gift of darkvision as a product of her mixed heritage, both Mole and Ruphos required light. The cleric, bringing up the rear, bore a lamp taken from Ghelve’s shop, its flickering flame casting a tenuous glow that cast long shadows ahead of his companions as they negotiated the stairs that seemed to twist ever deeper into the earth. But finally the stairs came to an end, depositing them in a square chamber of worked stone perhaps forty feet on a side. A corridor exited the chamber on the far wall opposite where they entered, and to their left stood two unusual doors, round wooden portals set into thick thresholds of dressed stone. One of the doors was partly open, rolled aside enough so that they could see that the outer edge of the portal resembled the notched teeth of a gear. Light shone from that opening, a golden shaft that spilled out in a long angle across the room’s floor. “Do you hear that?” Mole asked, as they came to a halt. As the echoes of the sound of their footsteps and the clatter of their gear faded, they all [I]could[/I] hear it, a sound of whispers, rustling leaves, and faint laughter that bordered just on the edges of their perception. The noises were merry, quite a contrast to the dark and heavy atmosphere that the abandoned hold seemed to hold for the four adventurers. The sounds persisted, not acknowledging the presence of intruders here. “A persistent illusion, perhaps,” Zenna suggested. “What are those?” Ruphos asked, holding his lamp aloft to get a better look at the walls. The light glinted off of metal objects that hung from the walls at regular intervals around the perimeter of the room. “Masks,” Mole said, walking nearer the walls, scanning the room around her as she walked, her crossbow loaded and ready in her hands. “Made of copper, it looks like... hmm, I wonder how much they’re worth?” “Careful, Mole,” Zenna said. “Something’s not right here, I can feel it.” “Ah, you worry too much,” the gnome said. But she kept her distance close to the others. Arun was more direct, walking straight to the partially opened door. It appeared that the round doors were designed to roll into an open space within the jam, to the side. A heavy piece of stone had been wedged into the door’s gears, holding it open. As they all gathered around the dwarf, they could see that there was writing on the door, a single rune etched in bold lines into the reinforced wooden beams of the portal. “It’s a gnomish letter ‘A’,” Mole told them. “There’s a ‘Z’ on that other door,” she said, indicating the adjacent doorway that was fully closed. “Decent work,” the dwarf noted, peering into the lit space beyond the door. A non-descript chamber lay beyond; the light originated from a shining object in the center of the floor. A few squat objects that were probably chests were scattered haphazardly along the walls of the room. The door wasn’t very large, and the stone held it only half-open, but the dwarf slung his shield on its long strap across his back, and cautiously grasped the door. “Maybe I should go first, check it out,” Mole suggested helpfully. “Patience is a virtue of the long-lived,” Arun said, as he gave the door an exploratory heave. The door rolled easily enough within its mechanism, and Mole reached in to relocate the stone to hold it more fully open. The dwarf nodded to her, and reaching for his shield, stepped forward into the room beyond the door. And cried out in surprise as two dark forms lunged out from the shadows flanking the portal, and thrust at him with slender blades. [/QUOTE]
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