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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Lazybones" data-source="post: 1946847" data-attributes="member: 143">Chapter 296“I wish Zenna was here,” Mole said, softly. “Yeah, but I’m sure she’d just say we were being crazy again, ‘Yet another insane plan,’ or something of the like,” Dannel replied. The elf and the gnome were perched on the roof of the safehouse, mere shadows against the blocky outline of the building.  Dannel wore his magical slippers, but even with them Mole had still beaten him up, darting up the uneven wall of the old inn as though she’d been out on a paved boulevard on a Tenthday stroll.  “Here comes Beorna,” Dannel said.  “Get ready.”The two crouched low against the tiles as the templar, enlarged to a height of eight feet, strode forward. As they watched, she lifted her massive sword in both hands, calling upon the divine power of her patron god. “That wall’s at least a foot of volcanic rock,” Dannel said.  “My money’s on Beorna,” Mole commented.  “Come on, let’s go.”The two started quietly across the roof, and therefore did not see Beorna as the templar drew her blade back, and then with a grunt slammed it into the wall.  Mole and Dannel felt the building tremble slightly beneath them as the force of the impact was driven through the wall and through the supports of the structure.  It was a mighty blow, one that should have resulted in a broken sword.  But Beorna’s weapon was forged of adamantine, that nearly mythical substance forged by dwarves in the deepest places under the earth, and it was the wall that gave way.  The first blow had shattered stone, but she did not pause, sweeping the blade out in one massive swing after another.  When she finally stepped back, mere seconds since her first attack had shattered the stillness of the night, the wall was a ruin, with a gaping five-foot hole in the building yawning open before them.  Behind the gap they could hear confused shouts at the inhabitants of the building reacted to the surprise assault. Fario was the first through the opening, launching himself through like a shot fired from a catapult.  By the time that Arun appeared he’d already run the first rogue through, and was exchanging blows with two others, his two swords darting back and forth as he parried the sweeps of their falchions.  Another Last Laugh rogue came at him from behind, his weapon raised to backstab the half-elf, but Arun’s blade carved through him, and he barely had time to scream before he crumpled, blood erupting in a flood from the gash that had cloven his torso to his spine. Seeing that help had arrived, Fario disengaged from his foes, ignoring a cut that opened a long slash in his left leg as he darted toward the staircase up against the right wall.  “Hold up, man!” Arun warned, but the half-elf, possessed with fear for his friend, ignored him.  Behind him Hodge entered the fray, stepping through the gap before firing his heavy crossbow at point-blank range into the chest of one of the remaining thugs.  The man staggered back, injured, while Hodge tossed aside the empty bow and lifted his axe, its head bursting into magical flame. “Go ahead,” he said to Arun.  “I’ll mop up these rakes.”The two rogues’ eyes widened as they saw Beorna appear in the entry, the enlarged dwarf filling the opening before she released the spell and stepped through. Mole and Dannel, meanwhile, had reached the front side of the inn.  Mole fearlessly bent precipitously over the front eave to look down at the shutter a few feet below, one of two windows that overlooked the front door.  She’d already secured a rope to one of the chimneys behind her, and now leapt out into the dark void, falling lightly back against the wall beside the shutter as it grew taut and drew her back in.  Above, she could hear Dannel moving into position, climbing under the eaves with the help of his magical slippers to hold him in place against the vertical wall.  He lifted Alakast as she drew out some small tools and went to work on the shutter, bracing the rope around her by holding it taut between her legs. Fario ran up the stairs and emerged into a large common room, where he quickly found himself in a world of trouble.  Two rows of beds ran across the room in parallel columns, several of which had been tossed over hastily to serve as makeshift barricades for the half-dressed rogues who now aimed shortbows in his direction.  As if that wasn’t bad enough, a pair of lean humans, clad only in light silk leggings, turned from drinking vials of unidentified potions to face him as they entered.  Their naked torsos were corded with muscle and covered with tattoos, and their faces were painted in the white-and-black harlequin mask of the Last Laugh.  By the way they snapped into ready martial stances, it was clear that they did not need to reach for weapons. Don’t... throw... your life... away, Fario! came a faint, familiar voice in his mind, over the telepathic bond. But the half-elf’s rational thoughts were driven away by the pain he could feel through that link, and there was no hesitation as he let out a loud cry and leapt at the nearest monk to attack. Hold on... I’m coming, Fellian! he screamed, silently.</blockquote>

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