carborundum
Adventurer
If you mail all your update-hungry readers a few papers they'll be graded in no time 
Shilsen's Eberron SH (Finished - The Last Word : 9/20/15)
- Thread starter Rackhir
- Start date
carborundum
Adventurer
How's it going with the papers, Mister Shilsen Sir?
shilsen
Adventurer
Thankfully, all done with. Which means I get to focus on all the Ph.D. work and paperwork in general that I need to do before I can leave here for the summer.carborundum said:
But I've got started on the next update and am halfway through it. We played today and hope to play again next weekend before I leave, in which case I'll have a good 4 sessions of writeups more to handle during the summer.
shilsen
Adventurer
And here it is, finally, almost exactly one month since the last update.
I appreciate your patience. And I hope it's worth it. Many PCs suffered, to bring you this update![:]](http://www.enworld.org/forum/images/smilies/devious.png "Devious :]")
* * * * * * * * * *
The next morning, the Guardian Angels descend cautiously into the center of Khesavuthir, but there is no resistance. They bypass the wall of dispel magic by all entering the portable hole, which is carried by Six as he descends the wall of the shaft using his harness’ shadow abilities.
When he reaches the bottom, he sees nothing alarming, though one of the tunnels has a continual flame on the stone above it which was not there before. As he drops lightly to the ground, the black dragon head on the wall speaks again, but Six – unable to understand draconic – has no idea what it says. Dropping the portable hole to the ground, he lets the others out and then attempts to repeat the words he heard.
Nameless listens carefully and then says, “I can’t be sure, but I think it said – ‘Welcome. Follow the lights. Ignore any unlighted turns or tunnels. I await you in the third chamber with knowledge of the seals you seek.’ I think.”
“He’s expecting us,” scowls Luna. “I still think this is a lousy idea!”
“We’ve already discussed this,” says Gareth impatiently, “Let’s go on. Everyone have their long duration protections up?”
The others nod and then follow the paladin, who is now glowing with a silvery light. As they proceed into the tunnel, they quietly discuss the detailed plans that they have made for the encounter with Xagygyrag. “…forcecage to block its path … earthquake may immobilize it for long enough … fire seeds will be easy to hit with … remember, teamwork is key …”
As the Angels travel along the tunnel, they encounter more spots where a continual light has been cast, each leading them further into the darkness ahead. They walk for a few minutes along the winding passage, past multiple spots where the tunnel splits up or meets another, each of them with a light to mark the correct route, until they reach a large chamber.
While superficially shaped like the ones with the slabs, this one is completely empty except for a large pedestal in the middle. Stretching a good dozen feet above the ground, it supports a crystal ball. Unlike those the adventurers are used to, which are normally half a foot in diameter, this one is fully five feet across. The only other object in the chamber is a large dragonshard set into the ceiling directly above it, which radiates of moderate illusion to Nameless’ sight, as does a few feet of stone around it.
The alienist studies the patterns of the magical aura and finally opines, “I think that is what is called a lair ward, designed to create a magical effect in the chamber it is in. I believe this one prevents scrying into this chamber, so if the user of the crystal ball is detected, then he cannot be scried on in return.”
“Nice!” says Luna, having perked up considerably at the information. “Can we take it?”
“No. Removing a lair ward after it has been attached will destroy it.”
“Bummer. At least we can take this,” says Luna, moving forward as her form shifts and grows drastically, until a huge tendriculos stands – or, more precisely, rolls forward – where she once was. She reaches out with a giant tentacle and casually picks up the heavy crystal ball.
“I really don’t think that’s a good idea,” says Nameless quickly.
“Huh? Why can’t we take it?”
“Because if we have to retreat or flee, the dragon is really going to be pissed off when it discovers you stole from it, and will come after us.”
Though expressions are difficult to make out on a tendriculos, Luna’s body language suggests exasperation, as she waves her tentacles. “It can’t find us without the crystal ball. Hello!”
Any possible response from Nameless is drowned out by metallic chuckles from Six and the louder sound of Korm leaning against the wall as he guffaws hysterically. Luna waves a tentacle at them, lifts the crystal ball and then simply swallows it.
Nameless stares at her and then slaps his forehead with his own tentacle, before sighing. “All right. Let’s go on. And I just hope your stomach acid doesn’t dissolve that thing.” He pauses. “No, come to think of it, I don’t.”
The Angels continue onwards, with significantly more cheerfulness and banter than they had previously, and eventually reach another chamber. This one is gigantic, dwarfing the previous one, and contains significantly more. Besides another lair ward on the ceiling, it has a large bowl-like depression in the center of the floor and thirteen large flat spaces cut into the walls, ranging from a couple of feet in length and height to thirty feet long and twenty feet high. A large groove runs from each space to the depression, and many of the grooves and the depression have flecks of what appeared to be dried blood in them. Set into the wall, one between each pair of indentations, are thirteen large metal contraptions, each with a massive metal ring set into the walls, apparently designed to rotate and swivel, with a huge dragonshard above each.
“Those remind me of the observatory of that crazy dragon Tyrass in Xen’drik,” says Luna, pointing at objects, “The one in the tower that you were all too scared to come and look at with me.” She adds to Korm, “I flew up there alone as a bird, but they wouldn’t come along, though I was sure it was safe.”
“Strange!” deadpans the Gatekeeper, “I can’t see why that wouldn’t be completely reassuring.”
“It reminds me of the necromantic laboratory in the Emerald Claw temple,” points out Six, and Gareth nods. “Me too,” says the paladin, “But it doesn’t look like any of this is helpful for us. Unless you can think of something, Nameless?”
The alienist shakes his head. “It’s very heavily magical,” he begins, before adding hastily, “But removing it will simply destroy it. It’s similar to an orrery of the planes, an object for achieving planar effects, but much more powerful. Each dragonshard has the name of a plane carved into it, see? The rings are clearly designed to attune to a certain plane, but precisely what effect doing so has I’m not certain of. I’d like to study it further, but we don’t have time right now. If we slay this dragon, then we can.”
“Planar attunement, eh? And here I thought it was an elaborate gambling machine,” quips Korm.
“Any room with Luna in it is an elaborate gambling machine,” says Nameless dryly, before heading for one of the three exits, which glows with a familiar light.
Again, a number of tunnels lead into the darkness beyond, the lights leading them on in a specific direction. Eventually, some sixty feet ahead of them at the limit of their darkvision, the Angels see the passage open into a large chamber. They hesitate for a moment and then Six says, “I’ll go check it out.” As the warforged moves up stealthily, wrapping the shadows which arise from his harness around him in a concealing cloak, the others begin to cast some of their shorter duration spells, adding to the already large number of protections in existence.
Reaching the entrance, Six looks in to see that it is almost as large as the last chamber, a good sixty feet across, and has two more tunnels leading out of it. There are the remnants of some cracked and broken stone structures on the floor to indicate that the room once contained something, but that is all. Six carefully scans the area, counting on his preternaturally keen sight to reveal anything hidden, perchance a giant invisible dragon, but sees nothing. Finally, he looks back and says, “I don’t see anything in the room.”
“Are you certain?” asks Korm, “Maybe there is…”
And then a voice interrupts, deep and low, crackling with power and hungry with anticipation, emerging from the tunnel behind the Angels, which they have just walked through. “What,” it hisses, “Are you waiting for?”
As they spin around, the adventurers see two huge eyes in the darkness, gleaming with the same blue light which signify Nameless’ magical vision. And the alienist’s arcane sight reveals more, over a dozen magical auras limning a gargantuan shape which advances at great speed around the turn in the tunnel, nearly a hundred feet behind them. Though it is still beyond the range of his sight, there is no mistaking the voice or the scrape of folded wings against the tunnel ceiling over twenty feet overhead or the clatter – if an unexpectedly metallic one – of giant claws against the stone. Xagygyrag, ancient and deadly protector of Khesavuthir, is upon them.
Despite their hours of discussion and preparation for this moment, the Angels are still caught off guard by the sudden attack from the rear, and even though their magical protections ward off the wave of supernatural terror that washes outwards from the advancing wyrm, they all feel a frisson of natural fear at the impending battle. And in that moment of surprise and fear, all of the detailed plans and supposed teamwork are temporarily and fatally forgotten.
“Back into the room!” shouts Six, even as Nameless says, “We need to hold it in the tunnel!” As they dither, Gareth – magically enhanced to react unusually quickly – strides forward towards the dragon, speaking the words of another spell. Six also hurries forward, triggering his wand to haste the group and flipping his chain to a ready position. Seeing both move, Korm also speaks the words of a protective spell and rushes forward. Behind them, Nameless decides to prepare himself to best affect the dragon and swiftly casts an assay resistance, before calling on the powers of his aberrant dragonmark. Flesh parts and eyes pop into existence all over his body, as a surge of power flows from his dragonmark across the alienist’s form.
But most of the Angels are reacting without considering or fully understanding what each is planning. Gareth, only intending to advance close enough to see the dragon and expecting Nameless to drop a forcecage ahead of him, comes to a halt. Not expecting this and already hasted, Korm barrels right by him. “Wait, Korm! Stop!” cries the paladin and reflexively hurries after him, and when the Gatekeeeper skids to a stop, he is right beside him. Nameless, busy making his transformation, has no time for creating the planned-for barrier before them. And Gareth and Korm, standing next to each other, take up just enough of the wide passage that Luna’s huge shape, moving slowest of all, cannot reach the front rank. The tendriculos stops in confusion, and then – at a shouted command from Nameless – casts a greater dispel to strip away the dragon’s protections. An instant later, a magical ring on her tentacle flashes gently as it counters her own spell, reflected back on her by the dragon’s spell turning.
Completely ignoring her, Xagygyrag looms over the two warriors before him, much closer than the Angels’ forgotten plans had intended. The Angels have a moment to see that things have changed, with a red gem larger than a man’s head embedded in his chest, and more ominously, a metallic set of scythelike claws extending over the natural ones on his forelimbs, before he speaks. The gleaming eyes set deep in his skull-like head rove over them and the dragon laughs, acid dripping from his jaws. “Did you really think your feeble protection from energy and resist energy spells would save you?”
Sh*t! Greater arcane sight! He knows what protections we have, thinks Nameless, even as he replies dryly, “No, not really, but it’s what we had.” Even before he completes the sentence, the dragon’s huge neck arches back, as it inhales. But instead of breathing, it speaks the words of a spell, one unfamiliar to its enemies. And then it leans forward and exhales.
The Angels are layered with magical spells to protect against the dragon’s acidic breath, and some have also protected themselves against fire and electricity, just in case their own spells strike them. But none of these are of any avail. A deadly tempest of cold and ice washes over them, scouring flesh more effectively than the most powerful blizzards of the Frostfell can.
Only the fact that the Angels are no longer normal mortals keeps them on their feet, but all are seriously damaged, Nameless almost being out on his feet. And if this freezing attack were not surprise enough, the supernatural cold of the dragon’s breath does not dissipate, clinging firmly to the flesh of those affected, its cold continuing to sap their energy with every second. Though the flakes of ice are slowly fading, it is clear that none of the Angels will survive until they are fully gone. Xagygyrag laughs again, this time at the sight of his foes’ ravaged bodies and their surprised and worried expressions. “Do you want to surrender now?”
I appreciate your patience. And I hope it's worth it. Many PCs suffered, to bring you this update
* * * * * * * * * *
The next morning, the Guardian Angels descend cautiously into the center of Khesavuthir, but there is no resistance. They bypass the wall of dispel magic by all entering the portable hole, which is carried by Six as he descends the wall of the shaft using his harness’ shadow abilities.
When he reaches the bottom, he sees nothing alarming, though one of the tunnels has a continual flame on the stone above it which was not there before. As he drops lightly to the ground, the black dragon head on the wall speaks again, but Six – unable to understand draconic – has no idea what it says. Dropping the portable hole to the ground, he lets the others out and then attempts to repeat the words he heard.
Nameless listens carefully and then says, “I can’t be sure, but I think it said – ‘Welcome. Follow the lights. Ignore any unlighted turns or tunnels. I await you in the third chamber with knowledge of the seals you seek.’ I think.”
“He’s expecting us,” scowls Luna. “I still think this is a lousy idea!”
“We’ve already discussed this,” says Gareth impatiently, “Let’s go on. Everyone have their long duration protections up?”
The others nod and then follow the paladin, who is now glowing with a silvery light. As they proceed into the tunnel, they quietly discuss the detailed plans that they have made for the encounter with Xagygyrag. “…forcecage to block its path … earthquake may immobilize it for long enough … fire seeds will be easy to hit with … remember, teamwork is key …”
As the Angels travel along the tunnel, they encounter more spots where a continual light has been cast, each leading them further into the darkness ahead. They walk for a few minutes along the winding passage, past multiple spots where the tunnel splits up or meets another, each of them with a light to mark the correct route, until they reach a large chamber.
While superficially shaped like the ones with the slabs, this one is completely empty except for a large pedestal in the middle. Stretching a good dozen feet above the ground, it supports a crystal ball. Unlike those the adventurers are used to, which are normally half a foot in diameter, this one is fully five feet across. The only other object in the chamber is a large dragonshard set into the ceiling directly above it, which radiates of moderate illusion to Nameless’ sight, as does a few feet of stone around it.
The alienist studies the patterns of the magical aura and finally opines, “I think that is what is called a lair ward, designed to create a magical effect in the chamber it is in. I believe this one prevents scrying into this chamber, so if the user of the crystal ball is detected, then he cannot be scried on in return.”
“Nice!” says Luna, having perked up considerably at the information. “Can we take it?”
“No. Removing a lair ward after it has been attached will destroy it.”
“Bummer. At least we can take this,” says Luna, moving forward as her form shifts and grows drastically, until a huge tendriculos stands – or, more precisely, rolls forward – where she once was. She reaches out with a giant tentacle and casually picks up the heavy crystal ball.
“I really don’t think that’s a good idea,” says Nameless quickly.
“Huh? Why can’t we take it?”
“Because if we have to retreat or flee, the dragon is really going to be pissed off when it discovers you stole from it, and will come after us.”
Though expressions are difficult to make out on a tendriculos, Luna’s body language suggests exasperation, as she waves her tentacles. “It can’t find us without the crystal ball. Hello!”
Any possible response from Nameless is drowned out by metallic chuckles from Six and the louder sound of Korm leaning against the wall as he guffaws hysterically. Luna waves a tentacle at them, lifts the crystal ball and then simply swallows it.
Nameless stares at her and then slaps his forehead with his own tentacle, before sighing. “All right. Let’s go on. And I just hope your stomach acid doesn’t dissolve that thing.” He pauses. “No, come to think of it, I don’t.”
The Angels continue onwards, with significantly more cheerfulness and banter than they had previously, and eventually reach another chamber. This one is gigantic, dwarfing the previous one, and contains significantly more. Besides another lair ward on the ceiling, it has a large bowl-like depression in the center of the floor and thirteen large flat spaces cut into the walls, ranging from a couple of feet in length and height to thirty feet long and twenty feet high. A large groove runs from each space to the depression, and many of the grooves and the depression have flecks of what appeared to be dried blood in them. Set into the wall, one between each pair of indentations, are thirteen large metal contraptions, each with a massive metal ring set into the walls, apparently designed to rotate and swivel, with a huge dragonshard above each.
“Those remind me of the observatory of that crazy dragon Tyrass in Xen’drik,” says Luna, pointing at objects, “The one in the tower that you were all too scared to come and look at with me.” She adds to Korm, “I flew up there alone as a bird, but they wouldn’t come along, though I was sure it was safe.”
“Strange!” deadpans the Gatekeeper, “I can’t see why that wouldn’t be completely reassuring.”
“It reminds me of the necromantic laboratory in the Emerald Claw temple,” points out Six, and Gareth nods. “Me too,” says the paladin, “But it doesn’t look like any of this is helpful for us. Unless you can think of something, Nameless?”
The alienist shakes his head. “It’s very heavily magical,” he begins, before adding hastily, “But removing it will simply destroy it. It’s similar to an orrery of the planes, an object for achieving planar effects, but much more powerful. Each dragonshard has the name of a plane carved into it, see? The rings are clearly designed to attune to a certain plane, but precisely what effect doing so has I’m not certain of. I’d like to study it further, but we don’t have time right now. If we slay this dragon, then we can.”
“Planar attunement, eh? And here I thought it was an elaborate gambling machine,” quips Korm.
“Any room with Luna in it is an elaborate gambling machine,” says Nameless dryly, before heading for one of the three exits, which glows with a familiar light.
Again, a number of tunnels lead into the darkness beyond, the lights leading them on in a specific direction. Eventually, some sixty feet ahead of them at the limit of their darkvision, the Angels see the passage open into a large chamber. They hesitate for a moment and then Six says, “I’ll go check it out.” As the warforged moves up stealthily, wrapping the shadows which arise from his harness around him in a concealing cloak, the others begin to cast some of their shorter duration spells, adding to the already large number of protections in existence.
Reaching the entrance, Six looks in to see that it is almost as large as the last chamber, a good sixty feet across, and has two more tunnels leading out of it. There are the remnants of some cracked and broken stone structures on the floor to indicate that the room once contained something, but that is all. Six carefully scans the area, counting on his preternaturally keen sight to reveal anything hidden, perchance a giant invisible dragon, but sees nothing. Finally, he looks back and says, “I don’t see anything in the room.”
“Are you certain?” asks Korm, “Maybe there is…”
And then a voice interrupts, deep and low, crackling with power and hungry with anticipation, emerging from the tunnel behind the Angels, which they have just walked through. “What,” it hisses, “Are you waiting for?”
As they spin around, the adventurers see two huge eyes in the darkness, gleaming with the same blue light which signify Nameless’ magical vision. And the alienist’s arcane sight reveals more, over a dozen magical auras limning a gargantuan shape which advances at great speed around the turn in the tunnel, nearly a hundred feet behind them. Though it is still beyond the range of his sight, there is no mistaking the voice or the scrape of folded wings against the tunnel ceiling over twenty feet overhead or the clatter – if an unexpectedly metallic one – of giant claws against the stone. Xagygyrag, ancient and deadly protector of Khesavuthir, is upon them.
Despite their hours of discussion and preparation for this moment, the Angels are still caught off guard by the sudden attack from the rear, and even though their magical protections ward off the wave of supernatural terror that washes outwards from the advancing wyrm, they all feel a frisson of natural fear at the impending battle. And in that moment of surprise and fear, all of the detailed plans and supposed teamwork are temporarily and fatally forgotten.
“Back into the room!” shouts Six, even as Nameless says, “We need to hold it in the tunnel!” As they dither, Gareth – magically enhanced to react unusually quickly – strides forward towards the dragon, speaking the words of another spell. Six also hurries forward, triggering his wand to haste the group and flipping his chain to a ready position. Seeing both move, Korm also speaks the words of a protective spell and rushes forward. Behind them, Nameless decides to prepare himself to best affect the dragon and swiftly casts an assay resistance, before calling on the powers of his aberrant dragonmark. Flesh parts and eyes pop into existence all over his body, as a surge of power flows from his dragonmark across the alienist’s form.
But most of the Angels are reacting without considering or fully understanding what each is planning. Gareth, only intending to advance close enough to see the dragon and expecting Nameless to drop a forcecage ahead of him, comes to a halt. Not expecting this and already hasted, Korm barrels right by him. “Wait, Korm! Stop!” cries the paladin and reflexively hurries after him, and when the Gatekeeeper skids to a stop, he is right beside him. Nameless, busy making his transformation, has no time for creating the planned-for barrier before them. And Gareth and Korm, standing next to each other, take up just enough of the wide passage that Luna’s huge shape, moving slowest of all, cannot reach the front rank. The tendriculos stops in confusion, and then – at a shouted command from Nameless – casts a greater dispel to strip away the dragon’s protections. An instant later, a magical ring on her tentacle flashes gently as it counters her own spell, reflected back on her by the dragon’s spell turning.
Completely ignoring her, Xagygyrag looms over the two warriors before him, much closer than the Angels’ forgotten plans had intended. The Angels have a moment to see that things have changed, with a red gem larger than a man’s head embedded in his chest, and more ominously, a metallic set of scythelike claws extending over the natural ones on his forelimbs, before he speaks. The gleaming eyes set deep in his skull-like head rove over them and the dragon laughs, acid dripping from his jaws. “Did you really think your feeble protection from energy and resist energy spells would save you?”
Sh*t! Greater arcane sight! He knows what protections we have, thinks Nameless, even as he replies dryly, “No, not really, but it’s what we had.” Even before he completes the sentence, the dragon’s huge neck arches back, as it inhales. But instead of breathing, it speaks the words of a spell, one unfamiliar to its enemies. And then it leans forward and exhales.
The Angels are layered with magical spells to protect against the dragon’s acidic breath, and some have also protected themselves against fire and electricity, just in case their own spells strike them. But none of these are of any avail. A deadly tempest of cold and ice washes over them, scouring flesh more effectively than the most powerful blizzards of the Frostfell can.
Only the fact that the Angels are no longer normal mortals keeps them on their feet, but all are seriously damaged, Nameless almost being out on his feet. And if this freezing attack were not surprise enough, the supernatural cold of the dragon’s breath does not dissipate, clinging firmly to the flesh of those affected, its cold continuing to sap their energy with every second. Though the flakes of ice are slowly fading, it is clear that none of the Angels will survive until they are fully gone. Xagygyrag laughs again, this time at the sight of his foes’ ravaged bodies and their surprised and worried expressions. “Do you want to surrender now?”
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shilsen
Adventurer
“Maybe he’s right,” says Six, scraping uselessly at the ice caking the metal and wood of his form as painfully as his allies’ flesh.
“No!” snaps Nameless, through frozen and cracked lips, “This is the only chance we’ll have! Luna, I need healing and protection! Everyone, keep attacking – don’t let him escape!” The alienist gestures and a lambent green beam leaps from his tentacle to strike the dragon, expanding instantly into a net of shimmering strands that cover its body.
Xagygyrag throws back his head and roars with laughter. “Dimensional anchor? So be it!” It gestures and casts in turn, replicating Nameless’ spell with one which leaves the alienist similarly unable to use teleportation and other planar magic to escape.
Korm and Luna, meanwhile, have been hurriedly casting healing spells and protection from cold on themselves and their allies, somewhat mitigating the wounds they have taken and those that the clinging frost is inflicting. Gareth, counting on them to protect him, shouts, “For the Silver Flame!” and unleashes a flurry of blows, chopping with the Endless Blade at the giant form before him. The dragon’s scaly hide, thickened by centuries of age and further protected by layers of magical enchantment, resists most of his assault, but Gareth has imbued himself with more magical might than ever, augmented by Nameless’ magic. A large scale, battered and bent by two previous blows, cracks and splits, and the Blade sinks into the flesh beneath.
Immediately, gouts of dark blood sprays from the wound, splashing over Gareth’s metal hand and his armored arm. As the blood hits, it sizzles and small tendrils of smoke arise. Luckily, the spells woven around the paladin protect him and the acidic blood has no real effect. Ignoring it, Gareth shouts, “Six – get on the other side! We need some help here!”
Swearing under his breath, Six dashes forward, actually passing not just between Gareth and Korm but between the tree-like legs of the dragon. Rolling adroitly underneath it, he glances at the apparently softer underbelly and strikes upwards. The spiked chain, further enchanted today by Nameless, hits – and then bounces off as if he had attempted to attack an adamantine wall. Sh*t! Not slackening his momentum, the warforged continues forward, spinning away form and past the rear leg which attempts to blindly step on him, and emerging at the dragon’s rear. “Nameless, Luna!” he calls back, “Get its protections off! I can’t hit it!”
Korm, switching from spells to his sword, quickly discovers that he has the same problem. Even his meteoric blade clangs near uselessly against the dragon’s hide. With only Gareth seemingly able to hurt the dragon, it’s clear that the Angels are in very big trouble.
And things quickly get worse. As Luna and Nameless strike their foe with more greater dispels, either the dragon’s great spellcasting ability or sheer bad luck renders them nearly ineffectual, the progressively more and more disgusted alienist seeing only a single aura flicker out with each casting. Xagygyrag remains largely protected from his foes, and with only one enemy evidently posing any kind of an immediate threat, he can focus purely on Gareth.
The paladin is layered in magical enchantments too, garbed from head to foot in enchanted steel, and beneath them lies inhuman flesh, modified by Mordain’s ancient skills. But none of these can fully withstand the tempest of fangs and claws that descends upon him. Claws the size of his forearm smash against his form, staggering him and bruising bones even if they cannot penetrate his armor, and then giant fangs slam shut around him. Gareth struggles desperately, but there is no way he could have pulled free, only a freedom of movement provided earlier by Luna causing a disappointed Xagygyrag to lift his head without the paladin in his mouth. But the mere seconds of contact and enough to render Gareth, his ribs broken and an arm crushed, near-dead. He collapses to the ground, leaking blood from every opening in his armor.
Xagygyrag grins in triumph and turns his snakelike head, ignoring the others and gazing behind him. Six, feeling the fading cold still leeching away his life, has just pulled out a healing wand when he meets the dragon’s gaze. The warforged tries to backpedal hurriedly, but he is too close and the gigantic wyrm is too large. Before he can retreat far enough, the huge tail lashes out. It catches Six right in the middle of his torso and he flies backwards like a discarded toy flung by a child, slamming into the tunnel wall. The warforged hits with a sickening thump and then clatters unmoving to the ground, his torso dented and bent.
“Luna! You have to help Six! And Gareth!” shouts Nameless, casting another greater dispel and almost kicking himself in frustration as a single aura flickers out, leaving a number of protective abjurations still on the dragon.*
“What do you think I’ve been doing?” snarls the druid, trying to decide what to do. She sees Korm reaching hurriedly for the paladin, but the dragon is turning back towards them. Deciding to create as much of a distraction as she can, Luna calls down an empowered flame strike on the dragon. This time, thanks to her assay resistance, the penetrates its resistance, and even more luckily, the spell Nameless had just dispelled was one that protected against fire. The column of fire hammers down on Xagygyrag’s back, and though it does not seriously incommode him, he hisses in pain.
Eat that, assh*le! Luna follows up with a swift summoning and suddenly there is a unicorn standing over Six. Its intelligent equine eyes look around in surprise at the scene. Then, as Luna shouts, “Heal him! And keep doing so,” it lowers its head and touches its horn to Six’s side. Positive energy flows into him, and though his artificial form is less affected than his companions’ flesh would be, it is barely enough. The fading glow in his orbs springs back to life and he looks up confusedly for a moment, before leaping adroitly to his feet. Then he stumbles with weakness and backs away.
Korm has seized the momentary distraction caused by Luna’s spell to channel a heal into Gareth and wipe away all his injuries, and as Xagygyrag turns his attention fully back to those before him, the paladin leaps forward and strikes again, Blade gleaming with argent light as he calls on the Silver Flame to aid his hand. Blood spurts from the dragon’s leg and he growls, though seemingly more in irritation than pain. “You are persistent! But I had hoped I had not killed you. At least not yet.”
The dragon shuffles slightly sideways, raising a taloned forelimb negligently to block a strike and then turns the motion into a strange gesture. Dipping a talon in the blood running down his leg, he flings it at Gareth, while speaking a quick arcane word. The drops of blood gleam darkly and run together to form a liquid bolt. As it strikes the paladin, it seems to sink into him and disappear. Though there is no pain or wound, Gareth feels the cold touch of negative energy seeping into him, draining him. A pair of his few remaining spells fade from his weakened mind.
As he stumbles at the unexpected attack, Xagygyrag growls, “And this time, stay down!” before again leaping on him. Newly healed flesh rips and tears under the assault and Gareth reels again, close to unconsciousness. Korm, reaching hurriedly for him with another spell, is driven back by a slashing claw that rips his arm open. But before the dragon can take Gareth to the ground, a large green tentacle slaps against his back, channeling another heal into him and restoring him, though the taint of the negative energy remains.
The dragon growls at the tendriculos, too far away for him to reach with Korm and Gareth in the way. “I’ll deal with you later!” Then, as the rejuvenated Gareth slashes away at him again, he snarls, evidently more from frustration at the tiny creature continuing to bother him than because the small wounds the paladin inflicts seriously incommode him. Again Xagygyrag slashes into Gareth, only to be forestalled one more time by Korm healing the paladin.
“Very well,” roars the dragon. “You die first!” Xagygyrag turns on the Gatekeeper instead, ripping and tearing. While his magical spells and items protect Korm almost as well as Gareth’s armor, they do not protect his vitals as well as the enchanted full-plate does, and the strange scythe-like metal claws the dragon wears almost disembowel him. The Gatekeeper collapses in a pool of gore, but as the dragon brings its claws down in a killing blow, a yellowish-green cocoon of force erupts into life around him, deflecting the blow.
The dragon frowns down and then mutters, “So that was the contingency? Clever!”
With Korm unconscious and Gareth alone facing the dragon, the partly healed Six on the opposing side causing so little a threat that he is essentially ignored, Nameless decides that perhaps a retreat is in order. Or at least something to buy them a few moments to regroup. He gestures and casts, leveling one of his most powerful spells at the dragon. There is a faint flickering in the air as the gateway to an extraplanar maze opens up behind Xagygyrag, expanding swiftly around his gigantic form. And then, as it touches his scales, it fades away, foiled by his innate resistance to magic.**
Nameless’ eyes bulge with frustration and Xagygyrag laughs cruelly at his expression. “Not good enough, mage!” Then he looks down and again flings more of his own enchanted blood at Gareth, further draining the paladin, before casually backhanding him into the passage wall. As he staggers, Luna desperately reaches out and channels another heal into Gareth, before calling, “That’s my last one! We need to get out!”
Korm, the healing power of his cocoon having revived him too, looks out through it at the scene and adds his voice in support. “We need to get out, Nameless!” Six shouts too, “I can get out myself! Go!”
Nameless nods and then casts a wall of force which blocks off the corridor, putting the dragon (and Six) on one side, and the Angels on the other.
For precisely two seconds, before Xagygyrag laughs and disintegrates the wall. “You leave when I say so. And I prefer a wall here!” He gestures and another one appears, but this time behind Korm and Gareth, separating Luna and Nameless from the others.
As it does so, a desperate Gareth once more leaps to the attack, praying for a miracle. And for a moment, some luck is on the Angels’ side. Just as the paladin moves in, Korm (now having emerged from the cocoon) brings down an empowered flame strike on the dragon. This one too penetrates his spell resistance and, as he winces and reflexively bends forward, Gareth strikes. Drained by his foe’s magic, the paladin has little left, but he can still call on some of the resources of the Silver Flame and he does so again, smiting the dragon with all his might. The Endless Blame coruscates with silver fire as it comes down, striking perfectly at the weak spot between two huge scales on the dragon’s chest. Draconic flesh parts and blood gushes forth, and Gareth’s eyes light up with hope in the second before his sword sinks hilt-deep in Xagygyrag’s chest.
And then the hope dies, as the magical gem in the dragon’s chest flares and the sword stops as if it had hit a stone wall, rebounding to leave only a shallow wound***.
Xagygyrag looks down and smiles broadly, the revealed fangs making his head look even more like a skull. “Still not good enough.” And then he casts a spell, healing the majority of the damage he has taken.
When Nameless, already boiling over with anger and frustration at his personal lack of effectiveness in this battle, sees the dragon do this and then loom over Gareth and Korm, he can take no more. “Stop!” he shouts, “We will surrender and let you take him,” he points at Gareth, “And me, if you let the others go! We are the dragonmarked ones, not they!”
Luna turns to stare down at him. “What are you doing?”
“Saving Korm and Six, and maybe you,” hisses Nameless. “I don’t know if you can leave, and if you can’t, we’re all dead.”
Xagygyrag has paused at the words and the others halt uncertainly too, waiting to see his response. Then the dragon smiles again and nods. “Agreed.” His long neck snakes upwards and he looks down at Gareth and Korm, nostrils flaring. “What say you? Don’t make me hold my breath!”
Gareth looks up as the dragon inhales, ready to breathe, his mind awhirl as he attempts to think of other options. But there is nothing else he can think of than to follow Nameless’ lead. “Very well.” He drops heavily to a knee, sets the Endless Blade point-first against the ground and his head against the hilt, closes his eyes and begins to pray.
Xagygyrag’s smile broadens and he glances at Nameless. “Do not attempt to leave!” Then he reaches down, picking up the still praying Gareth in his jaws and walks away, striding to the turn in the corner and around it.
* Poor Rackhir had the most amazing run of bad rolling. He cast three targeted greater dispel s, which meant he rolled nearly thirty times, where he needed to roll a 13 or higher to succeed. He succeeded on something like five checks. And cracked a 10 a total of eight times.
** More lousy rolling from Rackhir. Needed a 7 or higher and failed it.
*** Moderate fortification for the win!
“No!” snaps Nameless, through frozen and cracked lips, “This is the only chance we’ll have! Luna, I need healing and protection! Everyone, keep attacking – don’t let him escape!” The alienist gestures and a lambent green beam leaps from his tentacle to strike the dragon, expanding instantly into a net of shimmering strands that cover its body.
Xagygyrag throws back his head and roars with laughter. “Dimensional anchor? So be it!” It gestures and casts in turn, replicating Nameless’ spell with one which leaves the alienist similarly unable to use teleportation and other planar magic to escape.
Korm and Luna, meanwhile, have been hurriedly casting healing spells and protection from cold on themselves and their allies, somewhat mitigating the wounds they have taken and those that the clinging frost is inflicting. Gareth, counting on them to protect him, shouts, “For the Silver Flame!” and unleashes a flurry of blows, chopping with the Endless Blade at the giant form before him. The dragon’s scaly hide, thickened by centuries of age and further protected by layers of magical enchantment, resists most of his assault, but Gareth has imbued himself with more magical might than ever, augmented by Nameless’ magic. A large scale, battered and bent by two previous blows, cracks and splits, and the Blade sinks into the flesh beneath.
Immediately, gouts of dark blood sprays from the wound, splashing over Gareth’s metal hand and his armored arm. As the blood hits, it sizzles and small tendrils of smoke arise. Luckily, the spells woven around the paladin protect him and the acidic blood has no real effect. Ignoring it, Gareth shouts, “Six – get on the other side! We need some help here!”
Swearing under his breath, Six dashes forward, actually passing not just between Gareth and Korm but between the tree-like legs of the dragon. Rolling adroitly underneath it, he glances at the apparently softer underbelly and strikes upwards. The spiked chain, further enchanted today by Nameless, hits – and then bounces off as if he had attempted to attack an adamantine wall. Sh*t! Not slackening his momentum, the warforged continues forward, spinning away form and past the rear leg which attempts to blindly step on him, and emerging at the dragon’s rear. “Nameless, Luna!” he calls back, “Get its protections off! I can’t hit it!”
Korm, switching from spells to his sword, quickly discovers that he has the same problem. Even his meteoric blade clangs near uselessly against the dragon’s hide. With only Gareth seemingly able to hurt the dragon, it’s clear that the Angels are in very big trouble.
And things quickly get worse. As Luna and Nameless strike their foe with more greater dispels, either the dragon’s great spellcasting ability or sheer bad luck renders them nearly ineffectual, the progressively more and more disgusted alienist seeing only a single aura flicker out with each casting. Xagygyrag remains largely protected from his foes, and with only one enemy evidently posing any kind of an immediate threat, he can focus purely on Gareth.
The paladin is layered in magical enchantments too, garbed from head to foot in enchanted steel, and beneath them lies inhuman flesh, modified by Mordain’s ancient skills. But none of these can fully withstand the tempest of fangs and claws that descends upon him. Claws the size of his forearm smash against his form, staggering him and bruising bones even if they cannot penetrate his armor, and then giant fangs slam shut around him. Gareth struggles desperately, but there is no way he could have pulled free, only a freedom of movement provided earlier by Luna causing a disappointed Xagygyrag to lift his head without the paladin in his mouth. But the mere seconds of contact and enough to render Gareth, his ribs broken and an arm crushed, near-dead. He collapses to the ground, leaking blood from every opening in his armor.
Xagygyrag grins in triumph and turns his snakelike head, ignoring the others and gazing behind him. Six, feeling the fading cold still leeching away his life, has just pulled out a healing wand when he meets the dragon’s gaze. The warforged tries to backpedal hurriedly, but he is too close and the gigantic wyrm is too large. Before he can retreat far enough, the huge tail lashes out. It catches Six right in the middle of his torso and he flies backwards like a discarded toy flung by a child, slamming into the tunnel wall. The warforged hits with a sickening thump and then clatters unmoving to the ground, his torso dented and bent.
“Luna! You have to help Six! And Gareth!” shouts Nameless, casting another greater dispel and almost kicking himself in frustration as a single aura flickers out, leaving a number of protective abjurations still on the dragon.*
“What do you think I’ve been doing?” snarls the druid, trying to decide what to do. She sees Korm reaching hurriedly for the paladin, but the dragon is turning back towards them. Deciding to create as much of a distraction as she can, Luna calls down an empowered flame strike on the dragon. This time, thanks to her assay resistance, the penetrates its resistance, and even more luckily, the spell Nameless had just dispelled was one that protected against fire. The column of fire hammers down on Xagygyrag’s back, and though it does not seriously incommode him, he hisses in pain.
Eat that, assh*le! Luna follows up with a swift summoning and suddenly there is a unicorn standing over Six. Its intelligent equine eyes look around in surprise at the scene. Then, as Luna shouts, “Heal him! And keep doing so,” it lowers its head and touches its horn to Six’s side. Positive energy flows into him, and though his artificial form is less affected than his companions’ flesh would be, it is barely enough. The fading glow in his orbs springs back to life and he looks up confusedly for a moment, before leaping adroitly to his feet. Then he stumbles with weakness and backs away.
Korm has seized the momentary distraction caused by Luna’s spell to channel a heal into Gareth and wipe away all his injuries, and as Xagygyrag turns his attention fully back to those before him, the paladin leaps forward and strikes again, Blade gleaming with argent light as he calls on the Silver Flame to aid his hand. Blood spurts from the dragon’s leg and he growls, though seemingly more in irritation than pain. “You are persistent! But I had hoped I had not killed you. At least not yet.”
The dragon shuffles slightly sideways, raising a taloned forelimb negligently to block a strike and then turns the motion into a strange gesture. Dipping a talon in the blood running down his leg, he flings it at Gareth, while speaking a quick arcane word. The drops of blood gleam darkly and run together to form a liquid bolt. As it strikes the paladin, it seems to sink into him and disappear. Though there is no pain or wound, Gareth feels the cold touch of negative energy seeping into him, draining him. A pair of his few remaining spells fade from his weakened mind.
As he stumbles at the unexpected attack, Xagygyrag growls, “And this time, stay down!” before again leaping on him. Newly healed flesh rips and tears under the assault and Gareth reels again, close to unconsciousness. Korm, reaching hurriedly for him with another spell, is driven back by a slashing claw that rips his arm open. But before the dragon can take Gareth to the ground, a large green tentacle slaps against his back, channeling another heal into him and restoring him, though the taint of the negative energy remains.
The dragon growls at the tendriculos, too far away for him to reach with Korm and Gareth in the way. “I’ll deal with you later!” Then, as the rejuvenated Gareth slashes away at him again, he snarls, evidently more from frustration at the tiny creature continuing to bother him than because the small wounds the paladin inflicts seriously incommode him. Again Xagygyrag slashes into Gareth, only to be forestalled one more time by Korm healing the paladin.
“Very well,” roars the dragon. “You die first!” Xagygyrag turns on the Gatekeeper instead, ripping and tearing. While his magical spells and items protect Korm almost as well as Gareth’s armor, they do not protect his vitals as well as the enchanted full-plate does, and the strange scythe-like metal claws the dragon wears almost disembowel him. The Gatekeeper collapses in a pool of gore, but as the dragon brings its claws down in a killing blow, a yellowish-green cocoon of force erupts into life around him, deflecting the blow.
The dragon frowns down and then mutters, “So that was the contingency? Clever!”
With Korm unconscious and Gareth alone facing the dragon, the partly healed Six on the opposing side causing so little a threat that he is essentially ignored, Nameless decides that perhaps a retreat is in order. Or at least something to buy them a few moments to regroup. He gestures and casts, leveling one of his most powerful spells at the dragon. There is a faint flickering in the air as the gateway to an extraplanar maze opens up behind Xagygyrag, expanding swiftly around his gigantic form. And then, as it touches his scales, it fades away, foiled by his innate resistance to magic.**
Nameless’ eyes bulge with frustration and Xagygyrag laughs cruelly at his expression. “Not good enough, mage!” Then he looks down and again flings more of his own enchanted blood at Gareth, further draining the paladin, before casually backhanding him into the passage wall. As he staggers, Luna desperately reaches out and channels another heal into Gareth, before calling, “That’s my last one! We need to get out!”
Korm, the healing power of his cocoon having revived him too, looks out through it at the scene and adds his voice in support. “We need to get out, Nameless!” Six shouts too, “I can get out myself! Go!”
Nameless nods and then casts a wall of force which blocks off the corridor, putting the dragon (and Six) on one side, and the Angels on the other.
For precisely two seconds, before Xagygyrag laughs and disintegrates the wall. “You leave when I say so. And I prefer a wall here!” He gestures and another one appears, but this time behind Korm and Gareth, separating Luna and Nameless from the others.
As it does so, a desperate Gareth once more leaps to the attack, praying for a miracle. And for a moment, some luck is on the Angels’ side. Just as the paladin moves in, Korm (now having emerged from the cocoon) brings down an empowered flame strike on the dragon. This one too penetrates his spell resistance and, as he winces and reflexively bends forward, Gareth strikes. Drained by his foe’s magic, the paladin has little left, but he can still call on some of the resources of the Silver Flame and he does so again, smiting the dragon with all his might. The Endless Blame coruscates with silver fire as it comes down, striking perfectly at the weak spot between two huge scales on the dragon’s chest. Draconic flesh parts and blood gushes forth, and Gareth’s eyes light up with hope in the second before his sword sinks hilt-deep in Xagygyrag’s chest.
And then the hope dies, as the magical gem in the dragon’s chest flares and the sword stops as if it had hit a stone wall, rebounding to leave only a shallow wound***.
Xagygyrag looks down and smiles broadly, the revealed fangs making his head look even more like a skull. “Still not good enough.” And then he casts a spell, healing the majority of the damage he has taken.
When Nameless, already boiling over with anger and frustration at his personal lack of effectiveness in this battle, sees the dragon do this and then loom over Gareth and Korm, he can take no more. “Stop!” he shouts, “We will surrender and let you take him,” he points at Gareth, “And me, if you let the others go! We are the dragonmarked ones, not they!”
Luna turns to stare down at him. “What are you doing?”
“Saving Korm and Six, and maybe you,” hisses Nameless. “I don’t know if you can leave, and if you can’t, we’re all dead.”
Xagygyrag has paused at the words and the others halt uncertainly too, waiting to see his response. Then the dragon smiles again and nods. “Agreed.” His long neck snakes upwards and he looks down at Gareth and Korm, nostrils flaring. “What say you? Don’t make me hold my breath!”
Gareth looks up as the dragon inhales, ready to breathe, his mind awhirl as he attempts to think of other options. But there is nothing else he can think of than to follow Nameless’ lead. “Very well.” He drops heavily to a knee, sets the Endless Blade point-first against the ground and his head against the hilt, closes his eyes and begins to pray.
Xagygyrag’s smile broadens and he glances at Nameless. “Do not attempt to leave!” Then he reaches down, picking up the still praying Gareth in his jaws and walks away, striding to the turn in the corner and around it.
* Poor Rackhir had the most amazing run of bad rolling. He cast three targeted greater dispel s, which meant he rolled nearly thirty times, where he needed to roll a 13 or higher to succeed. He succeeded on something like five checks. And cracked a 10 a total of eight times.
** More lousy rolling from Rackhir. Needed a 7 or higher and failed it.
*** Moderate fortification for the win!
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carborundum
Adventurer
They've certainly met their match here! Awesomeness abounds and well worth the wait ... but I can't believe you've suckerpunched us again with the cliffhanger
YARGGHHH!!
YARGGHHH!!
Vorput said:
It wasn't so much of a surrender, more a bribing of the dragon to let the remaining PCs go. We just happened to be bribing him with the lives of Gareth and Nameless. It only cared about the dragonmarked characters and most of the group had proven to be of little threat to the dragon. So it's not like he was feeling endangered by us.
Nameless, Six and Luna could actually have gotten away on their own. Gareth was toast. Korm who was trapped with the dragon, was the wildcard since I was uncertain if he could escape, but Gareth's player and I had been the ones doing most of the plotting and planning for the attack. Six and Luna's players had been opposed to it (Korm's player was otherwise occupied and didn't really have an opinion). So I figured if anyone was going to suffer for the SNAFU, it should be Gareth and Nameless. Conveniently they were the only ones the dragon was interested in anyway.
Gareth's player still wants to go back and tangle with the dragon again...
shilsen
Adventurer
Fine, fine - no more cliffhangers!carborundum said:They've certainly met their match here! Awesomeness abounds and well worth the wait ... but I can't believe you've suckerpunched us again with the cliffhanger
YARGGHHH!!
Maybe.
* * * * * * * * * *
Xagygyrag proceeds around the corner with Gareth, moving surprisingly fast for a creature of his size. He takes the first side turning, one which the Angels had passed by on their way to the area where the battle occurred, and emerges into a dark chamber. This one is smaller than some of the others, and has two rows of what must be shelves placed around the circumference, beginning some fifteen feet above the ground. Gareth sees objects in many of them – scroll tubes, boxes, rods, etc.
Not that he has much leisure to consider them, since Xagygyrag places him on the ground with surprising gentleness and reaches up to pick up a rod. The dragon stares at him for a moment, anticipation burning in the huge eyes, and says, “Do not try to resist!” Then he makes a quick arcane gesture, places the rod against Gareth's chest and says a word. And everything goes black.
Meanwhile, the others are still in the tunnel where the battle occurred, Nameless and Luna and Six on one side of the wall of force and Korm on the other.
“Come on over to this side, Korm!” Luna says hurriedly, “We all need to get out.”
“Not me,” says Nameless, shaking his head firmly. “I am staying, as I promised. But you can take these.” Removing the portable hole from a pouch, he spreads it open on the floor and begins to place his valuable items inside it.
As Luna gapes at him, Six says thoughtfully, “Actually, I intend to stay and talk to the dragon too.”
The tendriculos shrinks down into Luna’s normal shifter form, leaving her standing there next to the giant crystal ball that she had swallowed. “Are you two insane?!”
“Perhaps,” Nameless smiles slightly, but doesn’t pause in his actions. “But I live up to my end of a bargain.”
“Not to a giant dragon that’ll probably eat you! And I don’t think Six should stay either!” Luna protests. “Listen, this is nuts. I’m getting out of here post-haste, before he starts looking for his crystal ball.” She carefully rolls the item into the portable hole and adds, “And if you guys aren’t coming with me and I can’t get out magically, I’m turning into the smallest, fastest, flying thing I can and going!”
Korm, having used a spell to shape the stone under the wall of force and climb under, brushes himself of and nods. “I agree. I’m leaving too.” He frowns. “But we do need that information, and we’ve just lost a lot here. Six, are you sure about this?”
“Yes,” nods the warforged. I think.
“All right,” says Korm. “Best of luck. Luna, we can leave together. Get in the portable hole and I’ll transport us to the house in Karrnath. Six, when you get out, meet us there.”
“If you get out,” says Luna, darkly, but she doesn’t argue, jumping into the hole as Korm suggested. The Gateekeeper picks up and folds the magical cloth, before sliding it into his pocket. He opens his mouth to say something, and then Xagygyrag walks sinuously around the corner ahead. Gareth is not with him, but he carries a large rod, looking like a toothpick in the grasp of his left forelimb. Nameless detects multiple magical auras on it, and a few more on the dragon, who has evidently raised some more magical defenses.
“Ah!” the dragon smiles, revealing all his fangs, “I thought you might not be here when I return.” He says a word and the wall of force fades away. As he walks forward, Xagygyrag asks, “Are the rest of you waiting to see your comrade leave? Or do you wish to stay too?”
As the dragon strides forward, Korm says simply, “Not me!” and casts a spell. The Gatekeeper sinks into the ground instantly and disappears, the powerful druidic magic* transporting him instantly through the earth towards his destination.
If he were human, Six would take a deep breath. Instead, he sets his shoulders and steps forward to ask, “Can you tell me anything about the dimensional seals? How to make them, how they work, etc.?” Xagygyrag stops and considers him for a moment, and then his giant bulk begins to shake. Luckily, it is with amusement, and a few seconds later, once the booming laughter has ended, he says, “You amuse me, little construct, who not only dare remain but question me so. Yes, I know of the seals. This is Khesavuthir, the fount of knowledge. And where oaths are sworn and forever bound in blood. What do you offer me for this knowledge? Yourself?”
Hmm – bargaining? It's probably a gnome. Gah! Six replies, “Well, I was hoping something I have discovered would be of interest to you.” He produces a drawing and displays it. “Here is the sign that appeared above the Mournland when the seed to Xoriat sprouted. Perhaps that interests you, as a guardian of knowledge? As for oaths, I would like to know what I am getting into, present situation notwithstanding. Also, I don’t have actual blood, if that makes a difference.”
Xagygyrag flashes another fanged smile. “Lacking actual blood is not a problem. As we recently established,” a huge claw indicates the spot where Six had lain unconscious barely over a minute ago, where a large patch of alchemical fluid still lies, “I can find ways to extract what I need. As for that sign,” he snorts, causing a small spray of acid, “I know of it already. The eyes of Khesavuthir are in many places – including your land. You will need to offer me more for the information you want. I presume you have no wish to die here, since you must want to hold back Xoriat with the knowledge of the seals. But perhaps you can offer me something else. And if we come to an agreement we will swear binding oaths that neither of us shall renege on our bargain. Do you have anything to offer? And even if you do, how do you plan to leave here?”
“Well,” says Six, “I can do some term of service. I have a harness made by the quori and reworked by Mordain the Fleshweaver that won’t come off, which could be of interest to you. Perhaps you want something outside this area I could go get. As for leaving, back the way I came in looks good. I could go back to where we teleported in to this area and teleport out.”
The dragon does not reply, clearly waiting for him to continue, so Six does. “I was wondering, for the sacrifice, are you going to kill them? If so, I would like to recover the bodies. And what’s the sacrifice for? Whatever you decide to do with your sacrifices, I would be careful in the handling. We have been worked over by various entities and changed in subtle ways. All of us have been given changes that don’t go away even in an antimagic field, and one of those is a programmed amnesia that has a puzzling quality. Our personality traits were heightened so we would be more reactive in ways we are already. And other things that might cause problems for you.”
Xagygyrag smiles again. He begins to speak and while doing so, walks forward towards Nameless, who has been listening without a word. “Thank you for the warning. There will be no problem for me. Modifications or no, your friends bear within them the blood of the dragonmarked, and there is rare power in that. I shall harvest and make fine use of it. Know this, little metal man, all forces in this world eventually, always, come down to blood."
Reaching Nameless, the dragon looks down and addresses him in turn. “This will not hurt.” He touches the rod to the alienist’s chest and Nameless crumples over. Xagygyrag scoops him up and turns his attention back to Six. “I shall tell you what to do with the seals. I would not have the dragonmarked pass from this world. They are too valuable. And I will spare you to carry the knowledge back to your people. Still, a bargain must be made and you offer me little in return.”
He gestures at the large room behind Six. “Go wait in there and decide what valuables you are willing to offer me. I have seen much magic on you and your allies.” He glances down at Nameless and grimaces slightly. “Though I see this one has disposed of much of what he had. Well, no matter – the bargain was for him. But go now into that chamber, remove what you will leave, and wait. I shall return with the knowledge you desire.” Xagygyrag adds, the tone of warning evident in his voice, “Wait there and do not go elsewhere.”
Six proceeds into the large chamber, which is – as he had seen before – completely empty, except for a couple of tunnels leading away from it. After a few minutes, a dark mass appears at the end of one and makes its way forward, as Xagygyrag enters the room.
There is a muffled voice from somewhere in the vicinity of the gargantuan dragon's head, and its source becomes apparent as he opens his mouth and spits something onto the ground in front of Six. The object hits the ground with a metallic clank attended by a soft squishing sound, followed by a now audible shout of “Hey!”
The warforged sees that it is the Endless Blade, still attached to Gareth’s metal hand. And still extending from the back of the hand is most of the paladin’s arm, ending midway between elbow and shoulder in a jagged stump of ragged flesh and protruding bone. Fresh blood still drips from the amputated appendage as it hits the ground.
“Take this thing with you,” says Xagygyrag, “Its chattering irritates me.”
“Six! You ...,” begins the sword excitably, and the dragon growls, “Quiet! Or I shall change my mind!” The sword instantly falls silent. Xagygyrag glares at it, and when certain it will not speak, turns to the warforged. “Place your offerings on the ground before me.”
“Very well,” says Six. “But first, I’d like to preserve this.” He produces a scroll of gentle repose on the stump, while the dragon watches. Then he says, “Well, I have an adamantine fist as an item. I can tell you of the daelkyr lord and his brother that started this mess. I can go retrieve an item or information you might want.” Hopefully the last.
“An adamantine fist?” says Xagygyrag disdainfully, “That sounds like it would be of little interest. Maybe I should keep the sword after all.” He looks thoughtfully at the Endless Blade, which apparently has enough judgement not to say anything aloud, though Six thinks he hears a faint “Oh f*ck! Oh f*ck! Oh f*ck!”
Finally, the dragon looks back to Six. “And unless you know something about the daelkyr and his brother that your companions do not, I will know it very soon through the sacrifices. Especially of the tentacled one.”
He raises a claw and scratches thoughtfully at the base of the large horns on his head, and then says with finality, “I will choose. Remove all the magic that you own and place it before me. And empty that haversack. It seems that you have only a pittance, but I did say I would bargain with you, so I shall keep my word – unless I find you to possess absolutely nothing of value.”
Damn! Six slowly removes the haversack saying, “This scorpion chain is the most expensive item I have. The haversack has scrolls, one of which is of the sixth valence – a word of recall. I would like to keep that one to leave via. The bulk of the rest are below fourth.” Six riffles through the scrolls, and then says, trying to sound a little plaintive. “You already have the paladin’s stuff – which, as you can see, is four or five times as much as I have. Those folks treated me badly. Sometimes I can’t understand why I’m still here. Oh yeah, must be the programmed amnesia. Which brings me back to what I can offer – to be the hand to stop the Xoriat invasion and prevent the corruption of the dragonmarks. If that isn’t enough, please accept our previous actions as the entertainment it was and I’ll be going.” Please?
* Master Earth, from the Spell Compendium
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shilsen
Adventurer
Xagygyrag smiles an amused smile. “You can leave when I say so.” He extends a claw for the haversack, and taking it, casts a spell. The haversack opens and its contents begin to appear of their own accord, the scrolls unrolling themselves in mid-air before the dragon as they are opened one by one. He looks at each, squinting slightly at the comparatively tiny writing, and then the scrolls neatly reroll themselves and descend to form a growing pile beside him.
Finally, once all the contents have been examined and considered, the dragon looks back at Six. He sniffs a little dismissively and says, “Not particularly valuable, but I will take them. Being able to avoid having to scribe minor spells is a blessing, and I used some valuable ones before our little encounter earlier. But you can keep this one.” The word of recall scroll floats over into Six’s hand. The others rise and settle back into the haversack.
Xagygyrag speaks the words of another spell and a horizontal line of light, amber in color, appears beside him. The light expands swiftly, creating a square six feet long and wide. He casually tosses the haversack at the light, which it passes through and disappears, as if it were a portal. The dragon then reaches into the light, and with some awkwardness, produces a stone slab half as long and wide as the doorway of light. Arcane symbols cover its surface, though Six cannot recognize them.
Xagygyrag places the stone slab on the floor of the chamber between Six and himself, and says, “And here we shall make our bargain. Here is my end of it.” The dragon reaches up and scrapes a claw against his shoulder – hard. There is the sound of a scale bending and breaking, and a splash of blood appears with an acidic sizzle. Showing no discomfort at the self-inflicted wound, Xagygyrag lets some of the blood run over his claw and says, his voice taking on a booming and solemn quality, “I, Xagygyrag, here swear to give this creature knowledge of the dimensional seals, in return for the magical items it has given me. After giving it this knowledge, I shall let it go free, making no attempt to harm it, as long as it leaves forthwith and does not return to Khesavuthir.”
With that said, he flicks his blood onto the slab. The heavy drops sink instantly into the stone like water into sand, and the arcane symbols flash and glow with light. “Your turn,” the dragon says to Six. “Say the following – I, whatever your name is, here swear to give Xagygyrag, protector of Khesavuthir, spell scrolls and a magical container in return for knowledge of the dimensional seals. After gaining this knowledge, I shall leave here forthwith and shall not return to Khesavuthir.” He raises a still bloodied claw. “But before saying it, produce some of the fluid that counts for blood with you. If you prefer, I can extract it. After making the oath, spill your blood on the slab.”
Six says quickly, “I can produce the fluid myself. But do you want to amend that oath with ‘...unless invited back by or to save the protector of Khesavuthir’?”
Xagygyrag stares for a second and then throws back his head as he emits another thunderous guffaw. “Not necessary. I doubt you will be able to return, and the protector of Khesavuthir would not ever need saving by such as you.” His eyes narrow slightly. “Though you would need saving from me if you and your companions returned here again. Assuming you personally survived the effects of thus breaking the oath. Which, before you ask, I do not intend to share.”
Six does not argue and simply nods. Producing a dagger, he cuts one of the softer, connective tissues of his body and dribbles a few drops of the alchemical fluid that runs through it onto the slab. The arcane symbols flash and glow again, and as they fade, Six feels a sensation of warmth on the spot where he obtained the fluid. Looking down, he can see a faint sigil etched in that spot. And now that he is close enough, he realizes that many such sigils, perhaps hundreds, mark the scales of Xagygyrag.
The dragon nods, its expression pleased, as it picks up the slab and pushes it back through the extradimensional portal still floating beside it. Then it looks back down to Six and says, “Listen carefully now, for here is the lore you seek. The dimensional seals, like all great magic in this world, are about blood and the life force which flows in all things. Whether it be the blood of a single insignificant creature – such as yourself – or that which the progenitor wyrm Siberys bled into the skies to form the Ring of Siberys, blood contains some of the life and power of its owner. The seals draw upon the blood and life of Eberron itself, and some of Khyber and Siberys, to achieve their binding power. But in moments of great need, they can use more blood – more life – to achieve greater things.”
Xagygyrag’s voice takes on a slightly reverent tone, as he continues. “When creatures die, their energies remain behind and slowly dissipate and become one with the ambient energy of the universe. That is the power which much magic, especially necromancy, draws upon. When many – thousands, or perhaps tens of thousands – die in quick and close conjunction, as occurred in the land your people call the Mournland, huge magical power is unleashed. Or at least the potential for huge magical power. If such an event occurs, then the dimensional seals can harness that power to achieve much greater bindings – even such as binding away Xoriat from Eberron.”
“When Xoriat first came to this world, the Gatekeepers taught by Vvaarak knew of this, and so, when the time was right, they drew on the blood and lives spilled by the Dhakaani in defense of Khorvaire. And through that sacrifice, they bound shut the doors between this world and Xoriat.” The dragon smirks slightly. “Why do you think the Gatekeepers took decades to act, while the Daelkyr war raged across your world and untold thousands died? Because there was not enough blood to fuel the great binding. And so they waited until enough was spilled, letting the unknowing goblinoids be slaughtered and broken by Xoriat.”
“And now,” he continues with evident relish, “You come to such a moment again. So return to Khorvaire, little warforged, and wait for death to spread across your land. And know this too. Because this is magic of Eberron, the blood – and the deaths – must be of this world, and the more intimately connected to this world the better. The deaths of a hundred soldiers of Xoriat would not provide the power that a single dead human – or warforged – can provide. And when the time is right, use the seals again. Just make sure that there is enough death – and blood – for your purposes.”
Xagygyrag smiles viciously. “Any questions?”
Lots! But some I’m not bringing up now! “Yes,” says Six politely, “You wouldn’t have a scheme about how to actually do this, would you? Also, can the word of recall scroll be used from here?” And are you sure you are not a gnome?
Xagygyrag smiles. “The forces of Xoriat walk your lands already. I think there will be blood enough. Of course, you will need to ensure that enough blood has been spilt, so you may have to wait a while. And there are issues of timing. Not only will you need someone at each seal – or as many as possible – to activate them at once, but the moment must be propitious. The more full moons – or new moons, but not both – at once the better, but I am not quite sure how many you would need.” He raises a claw to scratch at a horn, almost musing aloud to himself, “The time when Mabar, the plane of Endless Night, is coterminous with ours would be a perfect time. And luckily for you, though that occurs for only three dark nights once every five years, it will happen within a few months.”
The dragon focuses again on Six and flexes his great shoulders in what might be a draconic shrug. “The seals are not a subject I am particularly interested in. But my divinations last night revealed your interest in them, so I did some checking, in case it became relevant. And now you know what you came here for. You may depart. Your scroll will work here.”
“Thank you. May I take a moment to write it all down? And, if you will allow, do a quick sketch of you?” As Xagygyrag cocks his head, Six quickly adds, “I am an amateur sculptor and making one of your awesome form would be an honor.”
The dragon sighs. “Very well. You and your companions have provided more amusement than I have had in a decade. But be swift.”
“I will,” says Six, hastily producing pen and parchment.
. . .
A few minutes later, in the basement of the ruin at the center of the land the Angels were gifted in Karrnath, a worried Luna and Korm see Six appear.
“What happened?” asks Luna, hurrying to him. “Are you okay? Any idea what happened to the others?” She looks at the wrapped object in his hand, the Endless Blade protruding from one end. “What’s that?”
Six unwraps it, even as the Blade starts babbling about what the dragon did to Gareth. “This.”
“Oh … sh*t! Did it kill him?”
“No,” says the Endless Blade, slowing down in its babbling. “But it made him unconscious and then got all his armor off with a spell and then I was talking and asking it not to kill him and explaining how he’s not a bad guy even if he’s sometimes an idiot and how we could help it and it was all a big mistake and …,” it hesitates for a couple of seconds, and then continues, a little grumpily, “…it got all excited and growled at me and said I was bothering it, and then bit Gareth’s arm off! And he didn’t even twitch! For a moment I thought he was dead, but the dragon cast a spell and he stopped bleeding and then…”
Korm calmly picks up the sword and attached arm, and then tosses both into his own haversack. And shuts it over the fading and indignant, “Hey! Wha-?”
“Good move,” says Six.
“Yes,” says Luna. “So is Nameless alive too? Any idea how long they will be? And why were you gone so long?”
Six raises a metal hand. “One thing at a time. Now sit down. This may take a while.” Once the others do, he proceeds to explain everything he has learned.
There is silence for a few moments after he finishes, and then Luna looks at Korm a little suspiciously. “Did you know this about the Gatekeepers?”
The orc raises both hands. “Not a clue. This is as new to me as to you two.”
“Humph! Anyway, you’re not a real druid, so maybe they didn’t tell you!”
Korm considers whether he should argue or comment, but decides to hold off for reasons of sanity. Instead, he turns to Six. “We need to talk to Saala about this. And Jaela too, in case the two are dead. If anyone can bring them back, she can. Having Gareth’s arm helps, but we don’t have any of Nameless.”
“I agree. Can you two get us to either of them?”
The druids shake their heads. “I mostly prepared for offense and defense today,” says Korm, “Except for the one travel spell, which I used to get here. We’ll have to do it tomorrow.” Luna agrees, and Six says, “Very well. Then we’ll go tomorrow morning. Another question – who’s going to tell Gareth’s family?”
“Not me,” is the simultaneous answer from the others. “No way!” Luna adds emphatically. “Let’s wait till we’re sure what happened to him.”
“All right. So none of us are going above ground then? Since they are next door.”
“No, we’re not.”
The three Guardian Angels settle down to spend the rest of the day in various ways, all of them wondering what is happening with their companions, and if they are even still alive.
* * * * *
Sometime later…
Gareth and Nameless awake through a haze of pain and general fuzziness in their heads to find themselves in a chamber they have seen before. They are in the room with the stone shelves, lying naked and strapped onto two of them. The primary source of the pain is quickly clear since both of them have been crucified, with large metal spikes driven through their hands into the stone beneath. Or, in Nameless’ case, through a hand and a tentacle, while for Gareth one spike goes through his left hand and the other through his right upper arm, which ends in a stump.
Whuh? When did that happen? Gareth thinks, trying to gather his thoughts through the fog that seems to permeate his head. He does realize that none of the few spells in his memory at the end of the battle are still there, nor are any of the spells he had on him. So too does Nameless, who takes a few seconds of looking around the chamber to realize that his permanent arcane sight is missing too.
Besides the nails, more pain radiates out from the shallow cuts which have been made all over their bodies. There is a pattern to each set of cuts, but neither of the unfortunate recipients is in a position to understand or work it out. Blood drips painfully down their bodies into channels in the stone, flowing down to the hemispherical depression in the center of the room, which now appears to hold a huge bowl of some kind.
Xagygyrag, who has his back to them and is manipulating the bowl in some manner, evidently senses that they have awoken, since he turns. The gargantuan dragon considers them silently for a moment and then says, “Do not worry – this will be over soon. I simply needed to collect some of your blood before I consume you. Do you have any last words? Sacrifices seem to want to talk before it is over.”
“Thank you,” says Nameless painfully, “But I’m quite good.” You can take my body, but my soul already belongs to someone far beyond you. Gareth simply closes his eyes and begins to pray.
“Very well,” says the dragon. He turns and walks over, crossing half the chamber in two giant strides, and the huge skull-head looms over Nameless. The alienist’s eyes meet the dragon’s huge orbs for a second, and then his vision is filled by a mouthful of fangs. For a moment, before Xagygyrag carefully bites his head off.
Gareth opens his eyes to see blood gush from Nameless’ corpse, as the dragon meditatively chews the alienist’s head like a delicate little morsel. “Fascinating!” he mutters aloud, “He had much power and knowledge – for a human. And now it shall be mine.” Then he turns to the paladin and says, “Your turn,” and his neck snakes forward, jaws opening wide.
There is a moment of intense agony for Gareth as the jaws close, and then only darkness.
Which is broken after some time, though he has no idea how long that is, by a painfully bright light and a voice.
Finally, once all the contents have been examined and considered, the dragon looks back at Six. He sniffs a little dismissively and says, “Not particularly valuable, but I will take them. Being able to avoid having to scribe minor spells is a blessing, and I used some valuable ones before our little encounter earlier. But you can keep this one.” The word of recall scroll floats over into Six’s hand. The others rise and settle back into the haversack.
Xagygyrag speaks the words of another spell and a horizontal line of light, amber in color, appears beside him. The light expands swiftly, creating a square six feet long and wide. He casually tosses the haversack at the light, which it passes through and disappears, as if it were a portal. The dragon then reaches into the light, and with some awkwardness, produces a stone slab half as long and wide as the doorway of light. Arcane symbols cover its surface, though Six cannot recognize them.
Xagygyrag places the stone slab on the floor of the chamber between Six and himself, and says, “And here we shall make our bargain. Here is my end of it.” The dragon reaches up and scrapes a claw against his shoulder – hard. There is the sound of a scale bending and breaking, and a splash of blood appears with an acidic sizzle. Showing no discomfort at the self-inflicted wound, Xagygyrag lets some of the blood run over his claw and says, his voice taking on a booming and solemn quality, “I, Xagygyrag, here swear to give this creature knowledge of the dimensional seals, in return for the magical items it has given me. After giving it this knowledge, I shall let it go free, making no attempt to harm it, as long as it leaves forthwith and does not return to Khesavuthir.”
With that said, he flicks his blood onto the slab. The heavy drops sink instantly into the stone like water into sand, and the arcane symbols flash and glow with light. “Your turn,” the dragon says to Six. “Say the following – I, whatever your name is, here swear to give Xagygyrag, protector of Khesavuthir, spell scrolls and a magical container in return for knowledge of the dimensional seals. After gaining this knowledge, I shall leave here forthwith and shall not return to Khesavuthir.” He raises a still bloodied claw. “But before saying it, produce some of the fluid that counts for blood with you. If you prefer, I can extract it. After making the oath, spill your blood on the slab.”
Six says quickly, “I can produce the fluid myself. But do you want to amend that oath with ‘...unless invited back by or to save the protector of Khesavuthir’?”
Xagygyrag stares for a second and then throws back his head as he emits another thunderous guffaw. “Not necessary. I doubt you will be able to return, and the protector of Khesavuthir would not ever need saving by such as you.” His eyes narrow slightly. “Though you would need saving from me if you and your companions returned here again. Assuming you personally survived the effects of thus breaking the oath. Which, before you ask, I do not intend to share.”
Six does not argue and simply nods. Producing a dagger, he cuts one of the softer, connective tissues of his body and dribbles a few drops of the alchemical fluid that runs through it onto the slab. The arcane symbols flash and glow again, and as they fade, Six feels a sensation of warmth on the spot where he obtained the fluid. Looking down, he can see a faint sigil etched in that spot. And now that he is close enough, he realizes that many such sigils, perhaps hundreds, mark the scales of Xagygyrag.
The dragon nods, its expression pleased, as it picks up the slab and pushes it back through the extradimensional portal still floating beside it. Then it looks back down to Six and says, “Listen carefully now, for here is the lore you seek. The dimensional seals, like all great magic in this world, are about blood and the life force which flows in all things. Whether it be the blood of a single insignificant creature – such as yourself – or that which the progenitor wyrm Siberys bled into the skies to form the Ring of Siberys, blood contains some of the life and power of its owner. The seals draw upon the blood and life of Eberron itself, and some of Khyber and Siberys, to achieve their binding power. But in moments of great need, they can use more blood – more life – to achieve greater things.”
Xagygyrag’s voice takes on a slightly reverent tone, as he continues. “When creatures die, their energies remain behind and slowly dissipate and become one with the ambient energy of the universe. That is the power which much magic, especially necromancy, draws upon. When many – thousands, or perhaps tens of thousands – die in quick and close conjunction, as occurred in the land your people call the Mournland, huge magical power is unleashed. Or at least the potential for huge magical power. If such an event occurs, then the dimensional seals can harness that power to achieve much greater bindings – even such as binding away Xoriat from Eberron.”
“When Xoriat first came to this world, the Gatekeepers taught by Vvaarak knew of this, and so, when the time was right, they drew on the blood and lives spilled by the Dhakaani in defense of Khorvaire. And through that sacrifice, they bound shut the doors between this world and Xoriat.” The dragon smirks slightly. “Why do you think the Gatekeepers took decades to act, while the Daelkyr war raged across your world and untold thousands died? Because there was not enough blood to fuel the great binding. And so they waited until enough was spilled, letting the unknowing goblinoids be slaughtered and broken by Xoriat.”
“And now,” he continues with evident relish, “You come to such a moment again. So return to Khorvaire, little warforged, and wait for death to spread across your land. And know this too. Because this is magic of Eberron, the blood – and the deaths – must be of this world, and the more intimately connected to this world the better. The deaths of a hundred soldiers of Xoriat would not provide the power that a single dead human – or warforged – can provide. And when the time is right, use the seals again. Just make sure that there is enough death – and blood – for your purposes.”
Xagygyrag smiles viciously. “Any questions?”
Lots! But some I’m not bringing up now! “Yes,” says Six politely, “You wouldn’t have a scheme about how to actually do this, would you? Also, can the word of recall scroll be used from here?” And are you sure you are not a gnome?
Xagygyrag smiles. “The forces of Xoriat walk your lands already. I think there will be blood enough. Of course, you will need to ensure that enough blood has been spilt, so you may have to wait a while. And there are issues of timing. Not only will you need someone at each seal – or as many as possible – to activate them at once, but the moment must be propitious. The more full moons – or new moons, but not both – at once the better, but I am not quite sure how many you would need.” He raises a claw to scratch at a horn, almost musing aloud to himself, “The time when Mabar, the plane of Endless Night, is coterminous with ours would be a perfect time. And luckily for you, though that occurs for only three dark nights once every five years, it will happen within a few months.”
The dragon focuses again on Six and flexes his great shoulders in what might be a draconic shrug. “The seals are not a subject I am particularly interested in. But my divinations last night revealed your interest in them, so I did some checking, in case it became relevant. And now you know what you came here for. You may depart. Your scroll will work here.”
“Thank you. May I take a moment to write it all down? And, if you will allow, do a quick sketch of you?” As Xagygyrag cocks his head, Six quickly adds, “I am an amateur sculptor and making one of your awesome form would be an honor.”
The dragon sighs. “Very well. You and your companions have provided more amusement than I have had in a decade. But be swift.”
“I will,” says Six, hastily producing pen and parchment.
. . .
A few minutes later, in the basement of the ruin at the center of the land the Angels were gifted in Karrnath, a worried Luna and Korm see Six appear.
“What happened?” asks Luna, hurrying to him. “Are you okay? Any idea what happened to the others?” She looks at the wrapped object in his hand, the Endless Blade protruding from one end. “What’s that?”
Six unwraps it, even as the Blade starts babbling about what the dragon did to Gareth. “This.”
“Oh … sh*t! Did it kill him?”
“No,” says the Endless Blade, slowing down in its babbling. “But it made him unconscious and then got all his armor off with a spell and then I was talking and asking it not to kill him and explaining how he’s not a bad guy even if he’s sometimes an idiot and how we could help it and it was all a big mistake and …,” it hesitates for a couple of seconds, and then continues, a little grumpily, “…it got all excited and growled at me and said I was bothering it, and then bit Gareth’s arm off! And he didn’t even twitch! For a moment I thought he was dead, but the dragon cast a spell and he stopped bleeding and then…”
Korm calmly picks up the sword and attached arm, and then tosses both into his own haversack. And shuts it over the fading and indignant, “Hey! Wha-?”
“Good move,” says Six.
“Yes,” says Luna. “So is Nameless alive too? Any idea how long they will be? And why were you gone so long?”
Six raises a metal hand. “One thing at a time. Now sit down. This may take a while.” Once the others do, he proceeds to explain everything he has learned.
There is silence for a few moments after he finishes, and then Luna looks at Korm a little suspiciously. “Did you know this about the Gatekeepers?”
The orc raises both hands. “Not a clue. This is as new to me as to you two.”
“Humph! Anyway, you’re not a real druid, so maybe they didn’t tell you!”
Korm considers whether he should argue or comment, but decides to hold off for reasons of sanity. Instead, he turns to Six. “We need to talk to Saala about this. And Jaela too, in case the two are dead. If anyone can bring them back, she can. Having Gareth’s arm helps, but we don’t have any of Nameless.”
“I agree. Can you two get us to either of them?”
The druids shake their heads. “I mostly prepared for offense and defense today,” says Korm, “Except for the one travel spell, which I used to get here. We’ll have to do it tomorrow.” Luna agrees, and Six says, “Very well. Then we’ll go tomorrow morning. Another question – who’s going to tell Gareth’s family?”
“Not me,” is the simultaneous answer from the others. “No way!” Luna adds emphatically. “Let’s wait till we’re sure what happened to him.”
“All right. So none of us are going above ground then? Since they are next door.”
“No, we’re not.”
The three Guardian Angels settle down to spend the rest of the day in various ways, all of them wondering what is happening with their companions, and if they are even still alive.
* * * * *
Sometime later…
Gareth and Nameless awake through a haze of pain and general fuzziness in their heads to find themselves in a chamber they have seen before. They are in the room with the stone shelves, lying naked and strapped onto two of them. The primary source of the pain is quickly clear since both of them have been crucified, with large metal spikes driven through their hands into the stone beneath. Or, in Nameless’ case, through a hand and a tentacle, while for Gareth one spike goes through his left hand and the other through his right upper arm, which ends in a stump.
Whuh? When did that happen? Gareth thinks, trying to gather his thoughts through the fog that seems to permeate his head. He does realize that none of the few spells in his memory at the end of the battle are still there, nor are any of the spells he had on him. So too does Nameless, who takes a few seconds of looking around the chamber to realize that his permanent arcane sight is missing too.
Besides the nails, more pain radiates out from the shallow cuts which have been made all over their bodies. There is a pattern to each set of cuts, but neither of the unfortunate recipients is in a position to understand or work it out. Blood drips painfully down their bodies into channels in the stone, flowing down to the hemispherical depression in the center of the room, which now appears to hold a huge bowl of some kind.
Xagygyrag, who has his back to them and is manipulating the bowl in some manner, evidently senses that they have awoken, since he turns. The gargantuan dragon considers them silently for a moment and then says, “Do not worry – this will be over soon. I simply needed to collect some of your blood before I consume you. Do you have any last words? Sacrifices seem to want to talk before it is over.”
“Thank you,” says Nameless painfully, “But I’m quite good.” You can take my body, but my soul already belongs to someone far beyond you. Gareth simply closes his eyes and begins to pray.
“Very well,” says the dragon. He turns and walks over, crossing half the chamber in two giant strides, and the huge skull-head looms over Nameless. The alienist’s eyes meet the dragon’s huge orbs for a second, and then his vision is filled by a mouthful of fangs. For a moment, before Xagygyrag carefully bites his head off.
Gareth opens his eyes to see blood gush from Nameless’ corpse, as the dragon meditatively chews the alienist’s head like a delicate little morsel. “Fascinating!” he mutters aloud, “He had much power and knowledge – for a human. And now it shall be mine.” Then he turns to the paladin and says, “Your turn,” and his neck snakes forward, jaws opening wide.
There is a moment of intense agony for Gareth as the jaws close, and then only darkness.
Which is broken after some time, though he has no idea how long that is, by a painfully bright light and a voice.
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