Shilsen's Eberron SH (Finished - The Last Word : 9/20/15)
- Thread starter Rackhir
- Start date
ajanders said:
She-row-kin-nu-cat-sue-ka-me (For the english pronunciation).
Three years in Japan FTW!
It help if you know that japanese words basically all come in consonant-vowel pairs. It's why "The Ring" is "Ringu" in japanese.
Itchi, itax, i...
I'm just not going there for that one though.
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Well we survived the fight with the BBEG with the help of a couple of Limited Wishes (Good bye XP I knew thee well). What ever the hell it was. Of course things are still far from sweetness and light, in particular the Quori have a couple of hundred Warforged they can possess. On the bright side, we have a stone beholder (to be made into a fountain) and we have hit 15th.
HELLO MIND BLANK!!!
HELLO MIND BLANK!!!
shilsen
Adventurer
The next morning, the Angels and the members of the expedition emerge from the magnificent mansion – and Luna from the rope trick, accompanied by the cat Valthera. As before, the Angels take a lead of about five hundred feet and proceed further into the Mournland.
Though strange sights continue to abound, the first truly inimical experience the group has occurs about an hour later, when half a dozen hulking creatures appear over the nearest rise. They are as tall as ogres and similarly muscled, at least below the waist. Above the waist, each consists of a pair of linked bodies, each slightly larger than human size. Thick, mottled gray hide covers their bodies and their faces are a bestial mixture of the worst features of human, orc and hobgoblin. As soon as the creatures sight the Angels, they scream wordless war-cries and charge, waving pairs of knotted warclubs wielded by the separate bodies that make up their composite forms.
At Six’s suggestion, the Angels hold their position, Nameless and Luna summoning a screen of large and huge elementals to block the attackers, while Six and Gareth use their bows. Korm, however, sick of staying at a distance, summons a phantom stag, leaps on it and rushes forward to join the summoned creatures. The Gatekeeper fires an empowered arc of lightning along the line that the attackers are being held at by the elementals. But he quickly discovers that while they lack his skill with a blade, the aberrant creatures possess even more strength than he does, and fighting off two clubs each as long as he is tall simultaneously is harder than he expected. Engaging two of them at once, he cuts one down, but is badly wounded by the time he does so, especially since he cannot use the healing spells he would normally do during a battle. To the amusement of the others, Korm shouts an orcish war-cry and then flees back to them as fast as he can.
The amusement is quickly replaced by surprise as Luna summons another fire elemental to hold the line. The huge creature appears in the space that Korm occupied, its size dwarfing the enemies before it. And then turns around and rushes towards the Angels. Korm, just having brought the phantom stag to a stop, turns just in time to take a giant flaming fist to the face.
“Ow!” he shouts, backing away and trying to put out his eyebrows, “Damn it – Luna! If you didn’t want me to back out you could have just said so!”
“What the hell?!” A confused Luna shouts, “Get back in there!” at the elemental, but it simply responds by swinging another giant fist which Gareth barely dodges. Nameless quickly says, “It’s the Mournland affecting it! Dismiss it if you can!” Luna quickly speaks the appropriate words and to her relief, the elemental fades out of existence.
Despite the minor setback, the Angels quickly dispose of the attackers, a pair of empowered arcs of lightning finishing off whatever the summoned elementals and arrows have left alive. Once they are done, Nameless puts up a rope trick so that the battered Gatekeeper can be healed. While doing so, they discuss what happened with Luna’s elemental.
“We’re just going to have to consider the possibility that some of the things you two summon won’t work as they should,” says Six. “At least it looks like you can still get rid of them.”
“This time,” points out Korm pessimistically.
“On the positive side, we’re all fine thus far,” says Gareth. “This idea of Six’s for staying at a distance and bringing in support works pretty well. If it wasn’t for the visibility and terrain, we’d be able to deal with them from even further away.”
“Can’t be helped,” says Nameless. “These hills don’t help.”
The point is emphasized about an hour later. As the Angels pass over a rise littered with armored corpses, apparently slain in one of the battles of the Last War, part of the hill rises up under them, causing Gareth and Korm to tumble off their feet. As Nameless looks down in surprise, another section detaches itself from the rest. It splits down the middle and then clamps shut around his waist with crushing force.
As the others scatter, trying to put some distance between themselves and the strange attacker, the alienist blocks out the pain and gasps out the words of a dimension door, disappearing and reappearing some fifty feet away. Or so he plans. Instead, the Mournland’s arbitrary influence on magic makes him reappear only about ten feet below the Dead-Gray Mist. As he reappears, Nameless sees an eddy in the fog above him and a dark shape moving closer, and he quickly flies downwards.*
Luckily, nothing follows and he can give his attention to the ‘hill’ below. Now that he has a better vantage, Nameless can make out that what seemed to be part of the landscape is actually a gargantuan creature, supported on eight legs and with two huge claws extended before it. The corpses covering it seem to be stuck to its thick carapace, and four eyes on long stalks extend above them and look around hungrily at the other Angels. “Corpse crab!” shouts Nameless, recognizing the creature as one of the species unique to the Mournland.
“Hit it from a distance!” shouts Six, somersaulting in beneath a reaching claw to smash his chain into a leg, before retreating hurriedly. Korm and Luna have already backed away from the creature, which dwarfs even the shifter’s giant bulk, and while the Gatekeeper hammers the creature with a column of flame, Luna calls forth a huge elemental to keep it busy.
Gareth, unfortunately, is a little slower than the others to retreat, having been tumbled off his feet during the first assault, and before he can reach a safe distance the corpse crab scuttles sideways at him. Gareth brings the Endless Blade down on the claw, putting a crack into it, but then it slams shut around his legs. As Gareth struggles vainly, the other claw clamps shut around his torso, pinning the paladin’s arms to his sides and leaving only part of his head showing. The elemental pounds into the back of its carapace, but the gigantic creature ignores it for the moment. The claws rise slightly into the air and then contract, attempting to crack Gareth like a nut.
“Crap!” Korm runs in, casting a spell as he does so, and skids to a stop besides the claws, reaching up to touch the foot protruding from beneath them. If Gareth were anything like a normal human being, it would be far too late, but like his companions, the paladin has significantly transcended the limits of normal humanity. Though badly bruised and feeling ribs creaking under the strain, he is still alive, and as Korm’s freedom of movement takes effect he slips right out of the crab’s grasp. As the claws clash closed, Korm grabs Gareth and the two run before the surprised crab realizes what happened. Two more elementals pop up right behind them to cover their retreat.
Once they are safely out of range, they join the others in hurling spells and missiles. The corpse crab has incredible fortitude, but it is almost buried under a crowd of summoned creatures and magical explosions. When the dust and smoke clears, the gargantuan creature lies still and silent.
Nameless floats down to land beside the others, looks at the scene and frowns. “All right – that’s weird!”
“This entire place is weird!” growls Gareth painfully.
“No, not the crab. That!”
Gareth turns to see a small tremor of movement between the giant corpse and an elemental still following its original orders and pounding at it. The cat Valthera, apparently completely unhurt, walks around the corpse and then gambols over to the Angels. All of whom immediately take a step back from it, except for Luna, who scoops it up with a giant paw and examines it carefully. “Oh, good – she’s not hurt!”
“And that doesn’t strike you as strange?” asks Six.
“Maybe she’s just lucky?” says Luna unconvincingly. “Anyway, you wussies need to stop complaining about her. Let’s go.”
Six shakes his head, and then turns to the others. “Hold on. How are you all doing when it comes to spells? We just had two really dangerous battles, and the only reason we came out of them mostly untouched is because of all the summonings and being able to stay at a distance. Can you keep doing that much longer?”
“No,” says Nameless emphatically. “I have expended all of my most powerful summons, including the one that calls Khat’vanga. All I have remaining are significantly weaker ones.”
Luna shrugs. “I’ve got some remaining, since I can swap out a prepared spell for a summon.” She gives Korm a dirty look. “You could do that if you were a real druid!”
The Gatekeeper chuckles and says to Six, “I’ve gone through my post powerful offensive spells too. But I’d prefer to go on. I think we can handle ourselves fine even without them, and in an emergency Nameless can pop out the rope tricks for healing purposes.”
Gareth looks worried. “I’m not sure I like that idea. That means an extra ten or fifteen seconds before we can heal.”
Korm sighs, “Yes, Gareth – I know you can’t heal here. Get over it!”
“I realize this may make Gareth a little more nervous,” says Nameless, “But that was my last rope trick for the day. All I have left is the mansion.”
After some discussion, and a lot of complaining from Luna about how boring it will be to stop so soon after they started the day, the Angels decide that they are not going to continue onwards. By the time the discussion ends the expedition party has joined them, and Six explains that they will be stopping for the day.
Lamaan d’Cannith looks surprised at the information. “Are you certain that’s a good idea? We broke camp less than three hours ago, and we’ll be losing six or more hours of travel time. My people and I will go on even if you stop, but that does make things much riskier for us.” He glances at the gigantic carcass of the corpse crab lying nearby. “Admittedly we – well, you – seem to be running into far more creatures, especially really unusual and powerful ones, than any previous expedition I’ve heard of. Well, the ones that returned, I mean. But you seem to be doing just fine, so I’m not sure I understand why you’re so worried. If it makes you feel better we can stick closer to you and try to help.”
Nameless shakes his head. “We appreciate the offer, but the sort of things we’re running into are well out of your league, I think. And actually, I have a theory that we’re somehow attracting these creatures, and if we’re right, you’ll be safer without us. And once we do begin to move on, we can catch up to you in a jiffy. You’ll see us in less than 24 hours.”
Lamaan doesn’t look any the happier, but he nods. “Very well. Is there anythi…,” he begins, when Luna, who is sitting off on the side and grumbling to herself, interrupts. “Hey, guys! Come look at this!”
She points at the north-east. To the members of the expedition now standing near her, she is indicating a large black blur, the details of which are indistinct against the backdrop of the Dead-Gray Mist. But Luna’s preternatural sight sees thick vegetation. “It’s a forest.”
“What?” Lamaan hurries over and stares at the dark splotch for a few seconds. “Are you sure?”
“Yes,” says Luna, and Six corroborates, “It’s a forest. A really big one.”
“There’s no large forest in this area,” says Lamaan. “Or anywhere in the Mournland, actually. One of the things the Day of Mourning did was eradicate most of the large vegetation.”
“Maybe it didn’t eradicate it. Maybe the trees just walked away?” Lamaan and many of those around him look at Luna as if she were crazy. She snorts at the expressions and waves a paw. “Because that forest is moving.”
“What?!”
Korm, his vision only a touch less acute than Luna’s, peers carefully at the distance. “She’s right. It’s coming closer. Moving slower than a human, but moving.”
“Come on!” says Luna excitedly, “Let’s go check it out!”
“NO!” chorus her companions.
As the druidess scowls, Six turns to Lamaan. “As you can see, especially strange things seem to happen around us. Why don’t you move on now? You don’t want to be caught by some strange mobile forest.”
While the expedition prepares to move on, Nameless puts up another magnificent mansion. The Angels then have to spend some time explaining to Luna that it is not a good idea for her to do a fly-by over the forest, and then persuading her that it’s preferable – especially considering how many hours they will be inside – for her to join them and leave the cat alone outside (since Nameless still absolutely refuses to take it inside).
Once she finally agrees, they all step through the portal that leads to the extradimensional mansion beyond. Again, the others note that wisps of mist enter behind Nameless, this time thicker and darker than on the previous occasions. “I’m sure we’ll find out what that means sooner or later,” says Six, “And one thing’s for sure. If that forest is outside when we come out, we know it’s us the Mournland’s after.”
“It’s us,” says Korm with certainty. “It’s always us.”
Nameless nods. “I am forced to agree. Sometimes I get the feeling there’s some sort of omnipresent malign entity watching our activities and manipulating them so that we have the maximum possible amount of suffering.”
“You mean the gods?” asks Gareth.
“No, something different. And much worse.” Nameless shrugs. “Anyway, there’s nothing we can do about it. So – who wants to get the Endless Blade to run another game for us?”
* I rolled randomly for a mishap and Nameless should have appeared inside the Dead-Gray Mist, but Rackhir pointed out that he’d just bought me a Pepsi, so I relented. My generosity knows no bounds.
Though strange sights continue to abound, the first truly inimical experience the group has occurs about an hour later, when half a dozen hulking creatures appear over the nearest rise. They are as tall as ogres and similarly muscled, at least below the waist. Above the waist, each consists of a pair of linked bodies, each slightly larger than human size. Thick, mottled gray hide covers their bodies and their faces are a bestial mixture of the worst features of human, orc and hobgoblin. As soon as the creatures sight the Angels, they scream wordless war-cries and charge, waving pairs of knotted warclubs wielded by the separate bodies that make up their composite forms.
At Six’s suggestion, the Angels hold their position, Nameless and Luna summoning a screen of large and huge elementals to block the attackers, while Six and Gareth use their bows. Korm, however, sick of staying at a distance, summons a phantom stag, leaps on it and rushes forward to join the summoned creatures. The Gatekeeper fires an empowered arc of lightning along the line that the attackers are being held at by the elementals. But he quickly discovers that while they lack his skill with a blade, the aberrant creatures possess even more strength than he does, and fighting off two clubs each as long as he is tall simultaneously is harder than he expected. Engaging two of them at once, he cuts one down, but is badly wounded by the time he does so, especially since he cannot use the healing spells he would normally do during a battle. To the amusement of the others, Korm shouts an orcish war-cry and then flees back to them as fast as he can.
The amusement is quickly replaced by surprise as Luna summons another fire elemental to hold the line. The huge creature appears in the space that Korm occupied, its size dwarfing the enemies before it. And then turns around and rushes towards the Angels. Korm, just having brought the phantom stag to a stop, turns just in time to take a giant flaming fist to the face.
“Ow!” he shouts, backing away and trying to put out his eyebrows, “Damn it – Luna! If you didn’t want me to back out you could have just said so!”
“What the hell?!” A confused Luna shouts, “Get back in there!” at the elemental, but it simply responds by swinging another giant fist which Gareth barely dodges. Nameless quickly says, “It’s the Mournland affecting it! Dismiss it if you can!” Luna quickly speaks the appropriate words and to her relief, the elemental fades out of existence.
Despite the minor setback, the Angels quickly dispose of the attackers, a pair of empowered arcs of lightning finishing off whatever the summoned elementals and arrows have left alive. Once they are done, Nameless puts up a rope trick so that the battered Gatekeeper can be healed. While doing so, they discuss what happened with Luna’s elemental.
“We’re just going to have to consider the possibility that some of the things you two summon won’t work as they should,” says Six. “At least it looks like you can still get rid of them.”
“This time,” points out Korm pessimistically.
“On the positive side, we’re all fine thus far,” says Gareth. “This idea of Six’s for staying at a distance and bringing in support works pretty well. If it wasn’t for the visibility and terrain, we’d be able to deal with them from even further away.”
“Can’t be helped,” says Nameless. “These hills don’t help.”
The point is emphasized about an hour later. As the Angels pass over a rise littered with armored corpses, apparently slain in one of the battles of the Last War, part of the hill rises up under them, causing Gareth and Korm to tumble off their feet. As Nameless looks down in surprise, another section detaches itself from the rest. It splits down the middle and then clamps shut around his waist with crushing force.
As the others scatter, trying to put some distance between themselves and the strange attacker, the alienist blocks out the pain and gasps out the words of a dimension door, disappearing and reappearing some fifty feet away. Or so he plans. Instead, the Mournland’s arbitrary influence on magic makes him reappear only about ten feet below the Dead-Gray Mist. As he reappears, Nameless sees an eddy in the fog above him and a dark shape moving closer, and he quickly flies downwards.*
Luckily, nothing follows and he can give his attention to the ‘hill’ below. Now that he has a better vantage, Nameless can make out that what seemed to be part of the landscape is actually a gargantuan creature, supported on eight legs and with two huge claws extended before it. The corpses covering it seem to be stuck to its thick carapace, and four eyes on long stalks extend above them and look around hungrily at the other Angels. “Corpse crab!” shouts Nameless, recognizing the creature as one of the species unique to the Mournland.
“Hit it from a distance!” shouts Six, somersaulting in beneath a reaching claw to smash his chain into a leg, before retreating hurriedly. Korm and Luna have already backed away from the creature, which dwarfs even the shifter’s giant bulk, and while the Gatekeeper hammers the creature with a column of flame, Luna calls forth a huge elemental to keep it busy.
Gareth, unfortunately, is a little slower than the others to retreat, having been tumbled off his feet during the first assault, and before he can reach a safe distance the corpse crab scuttles sideways at him. Gareth brings the Endless Blade down on the claw, putting a crack into it, but then it slams shut around his legs. As Gareth struggles vainly, the other claw clamps shut around his torso, pinning the paladin’s arms to his sides and leaving only part of his head showing. The elemental pounds into the back of its carapace, but the gigantic creature ignores it for the moment. The claws rise slightly into the air and then contract, attempting to crack Gareth like a nut.
“Crap!” Korm runs in, casting a spell as he does so, and skids to a stop besides the claws, reaching up to touch the foot protruding from beneath them. If Gareth were anything like a normal human being, it would be far too late, but like his companions, the paladin has significantly transcended the limits of normal humanity. Though badly bruised and feeling ribs creaking under the strain, he is still alive, and as Korm’s freedom of movement takes effect he slips right out of the crab’s grasp. As the claws clash closed, Korm grabs Gareth and the two run before the surprised crab realizes what happened. Two more elementals pop up right behind them to cover their retreat.
Once they are safely out of range, they join the others in hurling spells and missiles. The corpse crab has incredible fortitude, but it is almost buried under a crowd of summoned creatures and magical explosions. When the dust and smoke clears, the gargantuan creature lies still and silent.
Nameless floats down to land beside the others, looks at the scene and frowns. “All right – that’s weird!”
“This entire place is weird!” growls Gareth painfully.
“No, not the crab. That!”
Gareth turns to see a small tremor of movement between the giant corpse and an elemental still following its original orders and pounding at it. The cat Valthera, apparently completely unhurt, walks around the corpse and then gambols over to the Angels. All of whom immediately take a step back from it, except for Luna, who scoops it up with a giant paw and examines it carefully. “Oh, good – she’s not hurt!”
“And that doesn’t strike you as strange?” asks Six.
“Maybe she’s just lucky?” says Luna unconvincingly. “Anyway, you wussies need to stop complaining about her. Let’s go.”
Six shakes his head, and then turns to the others. “Hold on. How are you all doing when it comes to spells? We just had two really dangerous battles, and the only reason we came out of them mostly untouched is because of all the summonings and being able to stay at a distance. Can you keep doing that much longer?”
“No,” says Nameless emphatically. “I have expended all of my most powerful summons, including the one that calls Khat’vanga. All I have remaining are significantly weaker ones.”
Luna shrugs. “I’ve got some remaining, since I can swap out a prepared spell for a summon.” She gives Korm a dirty look. “You could do that if you were a real druid!”
The Gatekeeper chuckles and says to Six, “I’ve gone through my post powerful offensive spells too. But I’d prefer to go on. I think we can handle ourselves fine even without them, and in an emergency Nameless can pop out the rope tricks for healing purposes.”
Gareth looks worried. “I’m not sure I like that idea. That means an extra ten or fifteen seconds before we can heal.”
Korm sighs, “Yes, Gareth – I know you can’t heal here. Get over it!”
“I realize this may make Gareth a little more nervous,” says Nameless, “But that was my last rope trick for the day. All I have left is the mansion.”
After some discussion, and a lot of complaining from Luna about how boring it will be to stop so soon after they started the day, the Angels decide that they are not going to continue onwards. By the time the discussion ends the expedition party has joined them, and Six explains that they will be stopping for the day.
Lamaan d’Cannith looks surprised at the information. “Are you certain that’s a good idea? We broke camp less than three hours ago, and we’ll be losing six or more hours of travel time. My people and I will go on even if you stop, but that does make things much riskier for us.” He glances at the gigantic carcass of the corpse crab lying nearby. “Admittedly we – well, you – seem to be running into far more creatures, especially really unusual and powerful ones, than any previous expedition I’ve heard of. Well, the ones that returned, I mean. But you seem to be doing just fine, so I’m not sure I understand why you’re so worried. If it makes you feel better we can stick closer to you and try to help.”
Nameless shakes his head. “We appreciate the offer, but the sort of things we’re running into are well out of your league, I think. And actually, I have a theory that we’re somehow attracting these creatures, and if we’re right, you’ll be safer without us. And once we do begin to move on, we can catch up to you in a jiffy. You’ll see us in less than 24 hours.”
Lamaan doesn’t look any the happier, but he nods. “Very well. Is there anythi…,” he begins, when Luna, who is sitting off on the side and grumbling to herself, interrupts. “Hey, guys! Come look at this!”
She points at the north-east. To the members of the expedition now standing near her, she is indicating a large black blur, the details of which are indistinct against the backdrop of the Dead-Gray Mist. But Luna’s preternatural sight sees thick vegetation. “It’s a forest.”
“What?” Lamaan hurries over and stares at the dark splotch for a few seconds. “Are you sure?”
“Yes,” says Luna, and Six corroborates, “It’s a forest. A really big one.”
“There’s no large forest in this area,” says Lamaan. “Or anywhere in the Mournland, actually. One of the things the Day of Mourning did was eradicate most of the large vegetation.”
“Maybe it didn’t eradicate it. Maybe the trees just walked away?” Lamaan and many of those around him look at Luna as if she were crazy. She snorts at the expressions and waves a paw. “Because that forest is moving.”
“What?!”
Korm, his vision only a touch less acute than Luna’s, peers carefully at the distance. “She’s right. It’s coming closer. Moving slower than a human, but moving.”
“Come on!” says Luna excitedly, “Let’s go check it out!”
“NO!” chorus her companions.
As the druidess scowls, Six turns to Lamaan. “As you can see, especially strange things seem to happen around us. Why don’t you move on now? You don’t want to be caught by some strange mobile forest.”
While the expedition prepares to move on, Nameless puts up another magnificent mansion. The Angels then have to spend some time explaining to Luna that it is not a good idea for her to do a fly-by over the forest, and then persuading her that it’s preferable – especially considering how many hours they will be inside – for her to join them and leave the cat alone outside (since Nameless still absolutely refuses to take it inside).
Once she finally agrees, they all step through the portal that leads to the extradimensional mansion beyond. Again, the others note that wisps of mist enter behind Nameless, this time thicker and darker than on the previous occasions. “I’m sure we’ll find out what that means sooner or later,” says Six, “And one thing’s for sure. If that forest is outside when we come out, we know it’s us the Mournland’s after.”
“It’s us,” says Korm with certainty. “It’s always us.”
Nameless nods. “I am forced to agree. Sometimes I get the feeling there’s some sort of omnipresent malign entity watching our activities and manipulating them so that we have the maximum possible amount of suffering.”
“You mean the gods?” asks Gareth.
“No, something different. And much worse.” Nameless shrugs. “Anyway, there’s nothing we can do about it. So – who wants to get the Endless Blade to run another game for us?”
* I rolled randomly for a mishap and Nameless should have appeared inside the Dead-Gray Mist, but Rackhir pointed out that he’d just bought me a Pepsi, so I relented. My generosity knows no bounds.
shilsen
Adventurer
The hours pass without any mishaps and with relatively little boredom, Nameless manipulating the mansion’s chambers so that they have something to do, creating a gymnasium for the warriors to exercise in, a garden to keep Luna happy (and away from the rest of them), and so on. The only worrying thing is that the Angels are beginning to notice hints of shadowy movement out of the corners of their eyes, though there is never anything there when they look for it.
Nevertheless, they get some rest, guarded by Six’s unsleeping vigilance, and awake refreshed and ready to move on. After an early and lavish breakfast served by the unseen servants that populate the extradimensional building, they gather in the foyer, ready to leave.
“Oh, great!” says Gareth, looking out of the entrance. Though the area beyond is dark, blurry and indistinct he can see enough to make out that the outside is covered with vegetation. “You were right about the forest, Six.”
More enthused about the prospect than the others, Luna growls, “See – you idiots should have let me check it out yesterday! Now let’s get out there and see what it is.” With that, she steps through the doorway.
Luna’s first thought as she emerges is that the area around her is still strangely indistinct. The second thought is that there’s something solid, sticky and glutinous all around her, resisting and restricting her movements. The third is that she’s on fire.
The others, still inside the mansion, watch in some confusion as Luna lurches back and forth slowly and then roars loudly in irritation and pain, her hair and skin frizzling as small flames appear all over her giant form. Then, as she uses her bulk to break free of the restraining material and then turns to claw at it, Nameless realizes what it is. “It’s a living spell*! And a big one!”
The alienist and the others hurriedly begin to cast protective spells, while Luna is still ripping away at the giant ooze-like creature outside. Six is the first to join her, the combination of a freedom of movement and a protection from energy letting him leap out into the creature and through it, emerging with his chain ripping long swathes out of it. By the time Korm follows there is not much of the creature left, and the three of them quickly reduce it to nothing. By then Luna, who has borne almost all of the assault, is badly burned, and she re-enters the mansion to heal herself.
Then she emerges with Nameless and Gareth to examine the area outside. There is truly a forest around the entrance to the mansion, looking completely out of place for the Mournland. Large trees with thick lush growth and bright green foliage surround the Angels. The undergrowth is equally rich and healthy, with flowers blooming brightly on bushes and growing out of the grass. Only one thing seems awry. The Dead-Gray Mist hangs only thirty feet overhead, with the upper branches of the taller trees extending into it.
Or two things, to be more precise. Even though the forest appears thick and healthy, that is only the case wherever one looks directly. Somehow, the peripheral vision of the Angels tells them that they are surrounded by a petrified forest of blackened and scorched trees, with no ground vegetation. But whenever they actually look at something, they see it as lush and rich.
“The forest isn’t real!” says Six emphatically. Nameless grimaces and cocks his head at him. “Really? You think?!” He looks around. “One thing’s for sure – I’m not picking up any magical auras here. Not that it means anything here, of course.”
“Yeah, yeah,” growls Luna, moving around the area with an ursine frown, “But where’s Valthera?”
“I get the feeling that cat can take care of itself,” says Gareth. “Let’s get out of here, shall we? Nameless – do you still have a direction to the Seed?”
“Yes. That direction. But it’s a lot more muted than it was earlier. I presume this forest is interfering with it somehow.”
“Well, let’s get out of here then,” says Korm, “And do it fast.” He casts a phantom stag. And absolutely nothing happens, even though he feels the magical energy flow through his mind as it is expended. “Okay – that’s new!”
“Everything here is new,” says Six, his voice featuring the scowl his face cannot. “Let’s get a move on.”
The group heads in the direction that Nameless indicates, making as fast time as they can, considering the thick undergrowth. After a few minutes of pushing through the vegetation, Korm, Six and Gareth decide to ride Luna, whose bulk allows her to push aside anything in her way. With the three on her back and Nameless flying behind them, they continue into the forest, which seems to stretch as far as they can see. As they go on, one of the interesting things they quickly notice is that there is absolutely no animal life that they can detect, either by sight or sound.
A quarter of an hour after they leave, the Angels glimpse a number of people amongst the undergrowth ahead. After a few moments of cautious study, it’s clear that they are not moving, and they do not respond to a friendly hail. When the Angels move up to them, they find it to be a large number of petrified figures in the middle of a small clearing. In the center are a small crowd of people, dressed like travelers. They are huddled together and clutching each other, while some are on their knees, clearly praying. Most of the flesh seems to have been blasted off their bones, yet their clothes and belongings are immaculate. All of them face in one direction, the one the Angels are heading in. A priest of Dol Arrah stands before them, clutching his holy symbol with one hand, the other held up as if he were blessing the group. A semicircle of soldiers stands before and around them, evidently trying to protect the travelers. They wear Brelish and Cyran uniforms but are intermingled, as if working together. Their perfectly preserved faces, none of which are missing any flesh, are calmly and resignedly resolute, as if facing an inevitable fate with determination.
“I’d really like to know what happened here,” says Luna, prowling around the strange group.
“But we’re not in a position to find out,” says Six, “And we don’t have the time. Come on.” The others quickly comply.
“You guys never let me do anything fun!” protests Luna, but she does follow along.
There is, however, no stopping Luna when the Angels suddenly find a rock in the middle of the forest. Sitting on top of it is a lovely pearl necklace. The bear skids violently to a stop, sending her three riders tumbling. Six adroitly lands on his feet, but Gareth and Korm land face-first. “Dammit, Luna!” shouts the Gatekeeper, sitting up and spitting out dirt and grass. “Don’t do that!”
Luna ignores him, already having rushed over to the necklace. “It’s so pretty!” Changing back into her shifter form, she picks it up. Nameless quickly says, “Don’t do that!”
Luna stares at him. “Why not?”
“Because it’s a magical necklace sitting on a rock in the Mournland!”
“Magical? It’s magical too? Cool!”
Nameless sighs and rubs a tentacle over his brow. I shouldn’t have mentioned that. Knowing that saying anything further will do nothing to stop her, he watches the necklace carefully as she places it around her neck. Multiple moderately powerful magical auras are visible to his arcane sight, and then as Luna dons it, he sees the auras flow outwards to wash invisibly over her form, before returning to the necklace. Yeah – that’s just great! “Whatever I say, you’re going to keep it, right?”
“Right. Don’t I look pretty in it? I wonder if I can retain it in wildshape form.” Luna transforms back into a giant bear, and the pearls continue to gleam around her throat, hanging just above the necklace of adaptation she normally wears. “Excellent!”
The rest of the Angels exchange glances and shake their heads collectively. Korm sums up everyone else’s opinion. “If someone’s going to take it off her, it’s not going to be me.”
Luna waves a large paw rudely at him. “Good. Now get back on. We have places to go and hopefully more jewelry to find. I could use a tiara!”
Once the others mount up, Luna again continues through the forest. Her next stop is when the trees ahead open onto a clearing some two hundred feet across, full of a field of thick corn. Sticking out above the eight foot high corn in various places are wooden frames with what seem to be scarecrows on them. Each is clearly a corpse of some kind, stretched out on the sticks, with a small sign hanging around its neck. There is something scrawled on each sign in small handwriting, and a child’s toy hangs from the bottom of each. The writing is too small for most to see at this distance, but with their preternatural vision, some of the Angels can see that each one reads, “I loved mummy/daddy/uncle/granny but he/she left me.”
As the Angels are looking at them, a small boy, seeming about seven or eight years old, sticks his head out of the stalks of corn. He smiles at them but says nothing. The head is low to the ground, as if he were lying on his belly, and nothing else of the body can be seen.
Luna looks at the boy, at the corpses and back at it. “You’re a very bad little boy. And you need a spanking.” The child cocks his head slightly, looking at her speculatively, and then swiftly pulls his head in and disappears into the corn. For just a second, there is a glimpse of what seem to be coils like a snake where a body should be, and then he is gone. As the bear takes a step after him, Six says, “We are not going in there! Go around and let’s keep going.”
“Oh, come on!” growls Luna. “What kind of adventurers are you?!”
“The kind who are trying to stay alive,” replies Nameless. “Now let’s go.”
A grumbling Luna continues on, with Nameless flying behind her, until she emerges from a stand of trees to find herself in front of the first real rise in the landscape that they have seen since entering the strange forest. In front of her is a small hillock with a gaping cave opening. Set into the rough stone around the opening are five crystal shards, each resembling the Key which the Angels spent so much time dealing with earlier. The cave extends in about ten feet and turns a corner, from around which a dull yellow light emanates. From around the corner come a strange collection of sounds and voices. There is the sound of flesh slapping against flesh and the gasping and moaning of two voices, one male and one female, sounds which fit a pair currently involved in coitus. But accompanying them are two more voices, also male and female, sobbing and whimpering as if in pain.
Nameless takes a quick look around and says, “Don’t stop – keep going!”
“But we should find out what those voices are!” protests Luna. “And look at the shards. I don’t like shards much, but maybe we can use them. Are they magical?”
“No. And we really don’t need to…”
Before Nameless can finish, the source of the sounds emerges around the corner of the tunnel. Part of it is a human man and an elven woman, and just as the sounds indicated, they are vigorously engaged in sexual intercourse. Each of them has a prominent dragonmark, Nameless recognizing them as the Mark of Making which House Cannith features and the Mark of Shadow which Houses Phiarlan and Thuranni possess. The dragonmarks are easy to see, since the two are completely naked, or at least as much as one can see, since their bodies only exist to just below the genitals and buttocks. Where the tops of their thighs begin, growing in the opposite direction, are another pair of human female and elven male, similarly dragonmarked and joined to the previous pair at the thighs. While the first pair continue copulating with no sign of noticing the Angels, this latter pair stare desperately at them and drag the four conjoined bodies painfully over the floor of the tunnel, gasping, “Help! Please – help us!”
If this strange sight and situation was not enough, there is more. As the first couple continues to have sex, streams of thick, gray maggots spray out of their genitalia. Whichever of them land on the other pair of figures instantly start burrowing into their flesh, the skin purpling and rotting wherever they touch. The afflicted man and woman sob and whimper in pain, desperately clawing at the maggots and the diseased flesh, ripping it away in gobbets and flinging it away, where it dissolves instantly. The torn and bleeding flesh heals instantly as they rip at it, only to again be penetrated by the maggots, and be ripped away again, and so on.
“Oh – gross!” says Luna. “What should I do?”
“Just flame strike it – now!”
Luna quickly complies, bringing down a column of flame to envelop the conglomerate creature. As the magical fire disappears, it reveals the four bodies, now clearly dead, with flesh scorched black and smoking. And then, a second later, the flesh begins to lighten and change, as the bodies begin to heal.
“Screw it! I’m going on,” says Nameless, flying away. With urging from Six, Korm and Gareth, Luna turns and lumbers after him, growling, “I’m really getting sick of this place! I just wish we could get out of here. And find something to kill!”
Luna’s wish is quickly granted. Less than a couple of minutes later, the Angels suddenly hear the whisper of movement around them and catch flashes of movement. As they prepare to put themselves in a posture of defense, enemies leap out of the bushes and down from the trees around them. They appear to be thin children, perhaps ten years old at most, but their mouths are missing, with only flat featureless flesh where lips should be. Their arms are incredibly long, twice as long as their bodies, and flattened out like ribbons, ending not in hands but a large flat disc of flesh. The ‘children’ number two dozen and attack as soon as they appear, striking extremely quickly with their elongated arms. The blows are quite powerful, and more problematically, with their large number, makes most of the Angels feel as if they were being assaulted by an unstoppable hail of attacks.
Luckily, all of the adventurers are now incredibly resistant to damage, and after the initial surprise, are actually somewhat relieved to have real enemies to fight. They strike back with a storm of spells and weapons, but with a little less effect than they would have liked. Nameless summons a group of giant pseudonatural centipedes, but like Korm’s previous attempt to call forth a phantom stag, it has no effect. Luna fires a powerful arc of lightning through half a dozen of the children, and is thoroughly disgusted as four of them adroitly leap out of the way. Two are too slow, however, and collapse to the ground. As they do, their bodies morph and change in seconds, turning into those of malnourished children and bearing the scorch marks of Luna’s spell. As Korm, Gareth and Six cut down others, the same occurs.
The battle rages on, the Angels slowly cutting down the mutated children but constantly taking wounds as they do so. The fact that they cannot call upon their considerable healing powers makes things significantly more difficult for them. Nameless is in especially dire straits, since one of the children leaps onto his back, writhing its tentacular arms around his neck and constricting his throat. Unable to speak even the words of a dimension door so that he can put some distance between himself and the attackers, the hapless alienist feels another child writhe its arms around his leg and pull him to the ground, while others batter his head and torso with painful blows.
Realizing that Nameless has only seconds of life left, Luna hurriedly touches him and casts an envigorating cocoon on him. Though the spell cannot heal him here, as the greenish-yellow globe of force extends to envelop his body, the spell forces away the creatures that are holding onto Nameless. With him safe, Luna tears into the children, alternately using her natural weapons and her spells.
One by one, the attackers go down, but none of them show the slightest inclination to flee. As the last one drops, its body and the surrounding forest shimmer, and then fade away. Leaving the Angels, all battered and seriously bloodied, standing back in the ‘normal’ Mournland in the middle of a small village. Sitting in front of them are the cat Valthera, a phantom steed and five pseudonatural centipedes, all wearing expressions of animalistic – and insectoid – patience.
* Living Firestorm, to be precise.
Nevertheless, they get some rest, guarded by Six’s unsleeping vigilance, and awake refreshed and ready to move on. After an early and lavish breakfast served by the unseen servants that populate the extradimensional building, they gather in the foyer, ready to leave.
“Oh, great!” says Gareth, looking out of the entrance. Though the area beyond is dark, blurry and indistinct he can see enough to make out that the outside is covered with vegetation. “You were right about the forest, Six.”
More enthused about the prospect than the others, Luna growls, “See – you idiots should have let me check it out yesterday! Now let’s get out there and see what it is.” With that, she steps through the doorway.
Luna’s first thought as she emerges is that the area around her is still strangely indistinct. The second thought is that there’s something solid, sticky and glutinous all around her, resisting and restricting her movements. The third is that she’s on fire.
The others, still inside the mansion, watch in some confusion as Luna lurches back and forth slowly and then roars loudly in irritation and pain, her hair and skin frizzling as small flames appear all over her giant form. Then, as she uses her bulk to break free of the restraining material and then turns to claw at it, Nameless realizes what it is. “It’s a living spell*! And a big one!”
The alienist and the others hurriedly begin to cast protective spells, while Luna is still ripping away at the giant ooze-like creature outside. Six is the first to join her, the combination of a freedom of movement and a protection from energy letting him leap out into the creature and through it, emerging with his chain ripping long swathes out of it. By the time Korm follows there is not much of the creature left, and the three of them quickly reduce it to nothing. By then Luna, who has borne almost all of the assault, is badly burned, and she re-enters the mansion to heal herself.
Then she emerges with Nameless and Gareth to examine the area outside. There is truly a forest around the entrance to the mansion, looking completely out of place for the Mournland. Large trees with thick lush growth and bright green foliage surround the Angels. The undergrowth is equally rich and healthy, with flowers blooming brightly on bushes and growing out of the grass. Only one thing seems awry. The Dead-Gray Mist hangs only thirty feet overhead, with the upper branches of the taller trees extending into it.
Or two things, to be more precise. Even though the forest appears thick and healthy, that is only the case wherever one looks directly. Somehow, the peripheral vision of the Angels tells them that they are surrounded by a petrified forest of blackened and scorched trees, with no ground vegetation. But whenever they actually look at something, they see it as lush and rich.
“The forest isn’t real!” says Six emphatically. Nameless grimaces and cocks his head at him. “Really? You think?!” He looks around. “One thing’s for sure – I’m not picking up any magical auras here. Not that it means anything here, of course.”
“Yeah, yeah,” growls Luna, moving around the area with an ursine frown, “But where’s Valthera?”
“I get the feeling that cat can take care of itself,” says Gareth. “Let’s get out of here, shall we? Nameless – do you still have a direction to the Seed?”
“Yes. That direction. But it’s a lot more muted than it was earlier. I presume this forest is interfering with it somehow.”
“Well, let’s get out of here then,” says Korm, “And do it fast.” He casts a phantom stag. And absolutely nothing happens, even though he feels the magical energy flow through his mind as it is expended. “Okay – that’s new!”
“Everything here is new,” says Six, his voice featuring the scowl his face cannot. “Let’s get a move on.”
The group heads in the direction that Nameless indicates, making as fast time as they can, considering the thick undergrowth. After a few minutes of pushing through the vegetation, Korm, Six and Gareth decide to ride Luna, whose bulk allows her to push aside anything in her way. With the three on her back and Nameless flying behind them, they continue into the forest, which seems to stretch as far as they can see. As they go on, one of the interesting things they quickly notice is that there is absolutely no animal life that they can detect, either by sight or sound.
A quarter of an hour after they leave, the Angels glimpse a number of people amongst the undergrowth ahead. After a few moments of cautious study, it’s clear that they are not moving, and they do not respond to a friendly hail. When the Angels move up to them, they find it to be a large number of petrified figures in the middle of a small clearing. In the center are a small crowd of people, dressed like travelers. They are huddled together and clutching each other, while some are on their knees, clearly praying. Most of the flesh seems to have been blasted off their bones, yet their clothes and belongings are immaculate. All of them face in one direction, the one the Angels are heading in. A priest of Dol Arrah stands before them, clutching his holy symbol with one hand, the other held up as if he were blessing the group. A semicircle of soldiers stands before and around them, evidently trying to protect the travelers. They wear Brelish and Cyran uniforms but are intermingled, as if working together. Their perfectly preserved faces, none of which are missing any flesh, are calmly and resignedly resolute, as if facing an inevitable fate with determination.
“I’d really like to know what happened here,” says Luna, prowling around the strange group.
“But we’re not in a position to find out,” says Six, “And we don’t have the time. Come on.” The others quickly comply.
“You guys never let me do anything fun!” protests Luna, but she does follow along.
There is, however, no stopping Luna when the Angels suddenly find a rock in the middle of the forest. Sitting on top of it is a lovely pearl necklace. The bear skids violently to a stop, sending her three riders tumbling. Six adroitly lands on his feet, but Gareth and Korm land face-first. “Dammit, Luna!” shouts the Gatekeeper, sitting up and spitting out dirt and grass. “Don’t do that!”
Luna ignores him, already having rushed over to the necklace. “It’s so pretty!” Changing back into her shifter form, she picks it up. Nameless quickly says, “Don’t do that!”
Luna stares at him. “Why not?”
“Because it’s a magical necklace sitting on a rock in the Mournland!”
“Magical? It’s magical too? Cool!”
Nameless sighs and rubs a tentacle over his brow. I shouldn’t have mentioned that. Knowing that saying anything further will do nothing to stop her, he watches the necklace carefully as she places it around her neck. Multiple moderately powerful magical auras are visible to his arcane sight, and then as Luna dons it, he sees the auras flow outwards to wash invisibly over her form, before returning to the necklace. Yeah – that’s just great! “Whatever I say, you’re going to keep it, right?”
“Right. Don’t I look pretty in it? I wonder if I can retain it in wildshape form.” Luna transforms back into a giant bear, and the pearls continue to gleam around her throat, hanging just above the necklace of adaptation she normally wears. “Excellent!”
The rest of the Angels exchange glances and shake their heads collectively. Korm sums up everyone else’s opinion. “If someone’s going to take it off her, it’s not going to be me.”
Luna waves a large paw rudely at him. “Good. Now get back on. We have places to go and hopefully more jewelry to find. I could use a tiara!”
Once the others mount up, Luna again continues through the forest. Her next stop is when the trees ahead open onto a clearing some two hundred feet across, full of a field of thick corn. Sticking out above the eight foot high corn in various places are wooden frames with what seem to be scarecrows on them. Each is clearly a corpse of some kind, stretched out on the sticks, with a small sign hanging around its neck. There is something scrawled on each sign in small handwriting, and a child’s toy hangs from the bottom of each. The writing is too small for most to see at this distance, but with their preternatural vision, some of the Angels can see that each one reads, “I loved mummy/daddy/uncle/granny but he/she left me.”
As the Angels are looking at them, a small boy, seeming about seven or eight years old, sticks his head out of the stalks of corn. He smiles at them but says nothing. The head is low to the ground, as if he were lying on his belly, and nothing else of the body can be seen.
Luna looks at the boy, at the corpses and back at it. “You’re a very bad little boy. And you need a spanking.” The child cocks his head slightly, looking at her speculatively, and then swiftly pulls his head in and disappears into the corn. For just a second, there is a glimpse of what seem to be coils like a snake where a body should be, and then he is gone. As the bear takes a step after him, Six says, “We are not going in there! Go around and let’s keep going.”
“Oh, come on!” growls Luna. “What kind of adventurers are you?!”
“The kind who are trying to stay alive,” replies Nameless. “Now let’s go.”
A grumbling Luna continues on, with Nameless flying behind her, until she emerges from a stand of trees to find herself in front of the first real rise in the landscape that they have seen since entering the strange forest. In front of her is a small hillock with a gaping cave opening. Set into the rough stone around the opening are five crystal shards, each resembling the Key which the Angels spent so much time dealing with earlier. The cave extends in about ten feet and turns a corner, from around which a dull yellow light emanates. From around the corner come a strange collection of sounds and voices. There is the sound of flesh slapping against flesh and the gasping and moaning of two voices, one male and one female, sounds which fit a pair currently involved in coitus. But accompanying them are two more voices, also male and female, sobbing and whimpering as if in pain.
Nameless takes a quick look around and says, “Don’t stop – keep going!”
“But we should find out what those voices are!” protests Luna. “And look at the shards. I don’t like shards much, but maybe we can use them. Are they magical?”
“No. And we really don’t need to…”
Before Nameless can finish, the source of the sounds emerges around the corner of the tunnel. Part of it is a human man and an elven woman, and just as the sounds indicated, they are vigorously engaged in sexual intercourse. Each of them has a prominent dragonmark, Nameless recognizing them as the Mark of Making which House Cannith features and the Mark of Shadow which Houses Phiarlan and Thuranni possess. The dragonmarks are easy to see, since the two are completely naked, or at least as much as one can see, since their bodies only exist to just below the genitals and buttocks. Where the tops of their thighs begin, growing in the opposite direction, are another pair of human female and elven male, similarly dragonmarked and joined to the previous pair at the thighs. While the first pair continue copulating with no sign of noticing the Angels, this latter pair stare desperately at them and drag the four conjoined bodies painfully over the floor of the tunnel, gasping, “Help! Please – help us!”
If this strange sight and situation was not enough, there is more. As the first couple continues to have sex, streams of thick, gray maggots spray out of their genitalia. Whichever of them land on the other pair of figures instantly start burrowing into their flesh, the skin purpling and rotting wherever they touch. The afflicted man and woman sob and whimper in pain, desperately clawing at the maggots and the diseased flesh, ripping it away in gobbets and flinging it away, where it dissolves instantly. The torn and bleeding flesh heals instantly as they rip at it, only to again be penetrated by the maggots, and be ripped away again, and so on.
“Oh – gross!” says Luna. “What should I do?”
“Just flame strike it – now!”
Luna quickly complies, bringing down a column of flame to envelop the conglomerate creature. As the magical fire disappears, it reveals the four bodies, now clearly dead, with flesh scorched black and smoking. And then, a second later, the flesh begins to lighten and change, as the bodies begin to heal.
“Screw it! I’m going on,” says Nameless, flying away. With urging from Six, Korm and Gareth, Luna turns and lumbers after him, growling, “I’m really getting sick of this place! I just wish we could get out of here. And find something to kill!”
Luna’s wish is quickly granted. Less than a couple of minutes later, the Angels suddenly hear the whisper of movement around them and catch flashes of movement. As they prepare to put themselves in a posture of defense, enemies leap out of the bushes and down from the trees around them. They appear to be thin children, perhaps ten years old at most, but their mouths are missing, with only flat featureless flesh where lips should be. Their arms are incredibly long, twice as long as their bodies, and flattened out like ribbons, ending not in hands but a large flat disc of flesh. The ‘children’ number two dozen and attack as soon as they appear, striking extremely quickly with their elongated arms. The blows are quite powerful, and more problematically, with their large number, makes most of the Angels feel as if they were being assaulted by an unstoppable hail of attacks.
Luckily, all of the adventurers are now incredibly resistant to damage, and after the initial surprise, are actually somewhat relieved to have real enemies to fight. They strike back with a storm of spells and weapons, but with a little less effect than they would have liked. Nameless summons a group of giant pseudonatural centipedes, but like Korm’s previous attempt to call forth a phantom stag, it has no effect. Luna fires a powerful arc of lightning through half a dozen of the children, and is thoroughly disgusted as four of them adroitly leap out of the way. Two are too slow, however, and collapse to the ground. As they do, their bodies morph and change in seconds, turning into those of malnourished children and bearing the scorch marks of Luna’s spell. As Korm, Gareth and Six cut down others, the same occurs.
The battle rages on, the Angels slowly cutting down the mutated children but constantly taking wounds as they do so. The fact that they cannot call upon their considerable healing powers makes things significantly more difficult for them. Nameless is in especially dire straits, since one of the children leaps onto his back, writhing its tentacular arms around his neck and constricting his throat. Unable to speak even the words of a dimension door so that he can put some distance between himself and the attackers, the hapless alienist feels another child writhe its arms around his leg and pull him to the ground, while others batter his head and torso with painful blows.
Realizing that Nameless has only seconds of life left, Luna hurriedly touches him and casts an envigorating cocoon on him. Though the spell cannot heal him here, as the greenish-yellow globe of force extends to envelop his body, the spell forces away the creatures that are holding onto Nameless. With him safe, Luna tears into the children, alternately using her natural weapons and her spells.
One by one, the attackers go down, but none of them show the slightest inclination to flee. As the last one drops, its body and the surrounding forest shimmer, and then fade away. Leaving the Angels, all battered and seriously bloodied, standing back in the ‘normal’ Mournland in the middle of a small village. Sitting in front of them are the cat Valthera, a phantom steed and five pseudonatural centipedes, all wearing expressions of animalistic – and insectoid – patience.
* Living Firestorm, to be precise.
The_Warlock
Explorer
shilsen said:
Well, they don't burrow...so while admittedly disturbing, gnomish badgergirls and gnomish molegirls, more in keeping racially, I find more inherently scary. Now they can tunnel straight to your heart.
