Upgrade your account to a Community Supporter account and remove most of the site ads.

Reply to thread

Message: <blockquote data-quote="shilsen" data-source="post: 3411623" data-attributes="member: 198">And Bangladesh beat India and Ireland kicked Pakistan out of the Cup. I don't know whether that's in the category of "the way the world should be", but I have to say it was funny as heck. Though I'm possibly the only Indian supporter who was royally amused by the first.Nice. Enjoy the break.And, though it took a while, here's the next one. I'm hoping to have the next instalment done by Sunday.* * * * * * * * * *The Angels quickly round up the remaining attackers, consisting of two of the men in the Royal Guards uniforms, a single dinosaur-rider and the still blinded bard. There are also 13 dead bodies, about a dozen scared and curious bystanders who are smart enough to keep their distance but not enough to have fled like the others did, and very shortly after the battle ends, Flim Turen. The gnome reporter bustles up quickly, pad and pen appearing with near magical speed in his hands, and looks around, before shaking his head. “So this is what you call an interesting story? What the hell went down here and why?”“Good day to you, Flim,” says Gareth, as he is healing some of his companions. “Be careful – whoever sent these may have more support. Some of my allies were notified by Saidan Boromar about the first group trying to kill us. I am not sure about the second group, but it is probably the direct family of Halak Boromar or this one,” he indicates the boomerang thrower, “Whose brother we fought and killed at the Burning Ring, after a battle which, for the record, we did not initiate. Like the ones we just had.”Flim scribbles some quick notes. “So you were attacked by two groups? And though you didn’t initiate the fight, you were expecting it? After all, you told me to be here. Or rather, at the other park. What was that about? Actually, let’s just start at the beginning.” He looks around again and then says, “Maybe we should head back to your place and talk, but then there’ll be questions if you leave. I’m a little surprised the Watch hasn’t shown up yet.” He grins. “Or maybe they heard it was you nuts.” Flim’s words remind the Angels that even though Balan had promised to keep the Watch out of the immediate area before the trouble began, with the commotion that has occurred and the alarm that must be spreading outside, it’s only a matter of time before the Watch – and who knows what other branches of law enforcement – shows up. Nameless asks Luna, still in bird form, to head over to Balan and let him know the situation. She screeches her agreement and soars away.After her departure, the Angels question the prisoners, especially the halfling and the bard. With the combination of Gareth’s ability to detect thoughts and their given situation, they provide any and all information that the Angels want. It emerges that the group that Fett had inveigled into attacking the Angels had informed a Boromar member that they were going after the bounty. The halfling twin had learned of this and considered it a perfect situation to use to gain revenge for his brother’s death. The dinosaur-riders had come to Sharn with him and agreed to help, and he had asked the bard, who has worked for the Boromars before, to obtain the services of various people who had worked for them earlier too. The bard had hired the three artificers and the men posing as Royal Guards. They had shadowed the other group till the Park and then prepared themselves to follow up with an attack if the first ones failed.The bard is even more surprised than the Angels about his artificer ally having fled with Six, and purportedly to Droaam. He identifies the man as Saryan, a skilled artificer who has worked for the Boromars for two years and lived in Sharn for two more before that, one who has no known connections with Droaam or the hags. Nameless takes a fair amount of pleasure explaining to the man that he has been suckered on two counts – one by this Saryan fellow, and one in failing to kill the Angels and having lost the boomerang thrower and the dinosaur-riders, who had made up most of the elite warriors that Saidan had brought in from the Talenta Plains.Flim is very interested in the issue of Six being stolen and the Angels’ theory that the hags of Droaam are somehow involved, but promises to leave that detail out of the article when they ask him to. They do, however, tell him to make sure and print that they said they wanted to thank Saidan Boromar for his warning about the ambush, without which they would not have been able to prevail. The gnome seems quite gleeful at the prospect of Saidan’s rage when that information is printed.By the time the Angels wrap up the interrogation and the discussion with Flim, a fairly large contingent of the Watch does arrive. Luckily, they know the Angels’ reputation and clearly want to avoid antagonizing the adventurers, especially in view of the bodies lying (now stripped of all valuable possessions) nearby. It helps that the captives, who seem to have resolved that being arrested and in Watch custody will be much safer than returning to inform Saidan Boromar that they had not only attempted an attack on the Angels without informing him but had failed and lost valuable members of the gang, admit to everything that they had done and that the Angels were only defending themselves. During the discussion, an eagle flies down and drops a rolled up scroll. It is from Balan, signed and stamped with the seal of the Blackened Book, asking the Watch members to not detain the Angels. With that available, the Watchmen – who had clearly just been looking for a reason to avoid trying to arrest them – bid the Angels goodbye, take the captives into custody, and leave.The group then heads over to inform Balan what happened. He, like Flim, is intrigued to hear that Six has been kidnapped and that they believe the hags are involved. Balan promises any help that he can, but explains that this is far beyond his jurisdiction, as well as his capabilities and resources. The Angels thank him for the offer, nevertheless, and head back to the Gray House.Once there, they discuss their possible options. Nameless first suggests that they visit the Augury and see if Kestia has a scroll of scrying to sell. Then he can scry Six and they can go after him. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?” asks Korm. “We’ve used a lot of our resources during the fight. Even if you could find him, we don’t know for a fact that we’ll be able to teleport in, grab him, and out teleport out safely. With our luck, and especially if the hags of Droaam are involved, not likely.”“Actually, I have just the one teleport ready,” says Nameless.Gareth shakes his head. “In that case, I really don’t think we should risk it. We’re not doing Six any favors if we show up with no way to get him out, and get captured in the process. Let’s get up early, prepare, and go after him.” Korm and Luna agree that he’s right, and Nameless, a little more reluctantly, does so too.* * * * * *The next morning, as he is preparing, Gareth receives a sending. The voice that addresses him is that of Saryan, and it says, “Six is safe. Scry him and teleport here. Come peacefully or you suffer. Bring only – and all – the Angels. My mistress wishes speech with you.” Uncertain what he should respond with, Gareth settles for sending back a simple, “All right. We will.” Then he hurries out to inform the others.“Then they’ll be expecting us,” says Nameless. “Still, we have to go after him. Let’s get to it.”Over the course of the next hour, Nameless performs a scrying. When the spell comes into effect, he finds himself gazing at Six. The warforged is unconscious and chained to a stone seat much too big for him. None of his weapons or other equipment is on him, and the only magical aura Nameless finds is the one on Six’s now irremovable harness. The alienist concentrates and rotates the sensor he is looking through. Six is in a large, circular room, roughly sixty feet across and octagonal, with a ceiling twenty feet above. Seven of the walls contain an alcove and a large stone seat. The eighth, across from the seat that holds Six, has a large set of double doors in it. The room is also occupied by four particularly ugly and hairy ogres, one sitting in the first seat to Six’s left and three standing nearby, having a grumbling discussion in a language that Nameless cannot understand. None of them wear any armor, or anything above the waist to hide their hugely muscled torsos. Each has an unsheathed greatsword next to him and a brace of large javelins on his back. After some further study, Nameless ends the spell. He quickly describes what he saw, and then adds, “By the way, there’s an aura of low abjuration covering the room and another one on the doors. Probably an alarm or some minor protection.”“Ogres with no armor? That should make things a little easier,” says Gareth, casting some preparatory spells. One causes a series of metallic spikes to extend from his armor, clothing and skin, each glowing with a silvery light. “This should make them think twice about wrestling me.”“No armor? They’re probably monks!” growls Luna, spitting out the last word. “What is it with you and monks?” asks Korm, as his skin hardens to a barklike consistency under the effect of another spell. “Nothing!” she replies with a scowl. “It’s just that they tend to dodge all my spells and are hard to squash. They’re like cockroaches! Gah!”“These ones didn’t look like the dodging kind. More the ‘Thog smash puny druid!’ type,” says Nameless. Luna simply growls and then transforms into bear form. “Everyone ready? Okay – let’s do this.”* * *A few seconds later, the Angels appear in the middle of the chamber that Nameless had just looked into a minute ago. Four large heads spin around and expressions of surprise slowly begin to appear on their faces. Before they can do so, similar – if less brutish – expressions flash across those of the Angels. The floor of the chamber falls away under the Angels’ feet, flipping open in the form of two metallic doors (painted to resemble the stone of the room) to drop them into a dark water-filled pit that stretches across the central half of the chamber, leaving a fifteen foot lip around it. Even as the ogres begin to grab at their weapons, the Angels splash into the water, without time to cry out in surprise.Three of them, to be precise. Nameless floats above the pit, so he is the only one who sees a metal sheet slam down in front of Six’s seat. A loud grinding emanates from beyond it, a combination of stone and metal gears, which carries to the ears of even Luna and Korm as they both splash down into the water and struggle back up to the surface. Gareth does not hear it, his heavy armor continuing to carry him down rather than up, until his feet hit the floor of the pit. But not for long. After his initial surprise, the ex-paladin calmly says telepathically to the sword in his hands, Care to get me out of here? The Endless Blade doesn’t bother with a reply, but simply propels itself and Gareth upwards, out of the pit and onto the floor outside. As he bursts out of the water, Gareth grabs Korm, lifting the Gatekeeper with him. They are only seconds ahead of Luna. The druid-bear activates a ring that she had purchased a few weeks ago and also takes flight, rising out of the pit behind the others and landing in a spot where they can bracket most of the ogres between them.“Get the ogres!” orders Nameless. “I’ll find Six.” Floating away from the pit, he unleashes a green beam of energy, which disintegrates the metal sheet, to reveal a blank stone wall where Six had been. Korm is the fastest to respond to the alienist’s command, slashing into the nearest of the ogres, which have been staring in surprise as the Angels appear, mostly disappear into the pit, and reappear again. With its lack of armor, his meteoric blade bites in easily, but there is something about its flesh that significantly reduces the efficacy of the blow. The answer is quickly forthcoming. The wounded ogre shouts angrily at the wound, the yell deepening and turning midway through into a feral snarl. Its features twist and change, as more hair erupts all over its body, becoming significantly more bestial as they expand into a clearly recognizable shape. In the space of seconds, its ugly humanoid head is replaced by the snarling visage of a huge wolf. Behind it, so too are the other three. “Werewolves!”* says Korm disgustedly. “No wonder!”“Not a problem for me,” Gareth, stepping up beside Korm. The Endless Blade blazes with silver fire as he brings it down, inflicting a huge wound on the already wounded lycanthrope. Ignoring the blood streaming down its chest, the creature strikes back with a powerful blow**, which slams Gareth backwards. “Feel free to jump in, everyone!” he says, spitting blood.“What the hells do you think we’re doing?” growls Korm, fixing one of their enemies with a baleful gaze. The magical attack overwhelms the weak-minded creature, which turns and flees, brushing past another that is engaged with Luna. The latter lycanthrope shouts a command to his fleeing ally, but it has no effect. With an angry snarl, he turns back to the druid-bear, who is having problems affecting it past its resistance to damage. Wrapping his huge arms around a rearing Luna, he actually lifts her 8,000 pounds off the ground and slams her back against the wall. On the other side of the chamber, another lycanthrope hurls a javelin the size of a small tree at Nameless, gashing the mage’s leg. “All right,” says Nameless calmly, floating backwards and gesturing. “Now you’ve upset me.” A cloud of thick fog envelops the javelin-thrower and the fleeing lycanthrope, and pained grunts reveal what the acidic fumes are doing. With only two lycanthropes remaining outside, the issue is barely in doubt. Gareth and Korm hack into them, while Luna hurls an empowered arc of lightning. By the time the other two stumble out of the acid fog, one to cower fearfully against the wall and the other to charge the Angels, they are the only enemies left. And, ten seconds later, aren’t.With the lycanthropes dead, the Angels quickly fall to both healing and searching the chamber. As they begin to do so, the two trapdoors slam back up into position, locking with a loud click. Korm begins to hack at the wall Nameless had revealed, quickly reducing it to rubble, but finds only more stone behind it. “No good,” he says, and then looks at Luna, who is growling and gesturing at the acid fog, which still hides the closed doors from view. Falling silent, the Angels hear the muffled sound of multiple pairs of marching feet, clearly larger and louder than that of a human. “Let’s hope they’re more willing to talk than these idiots,” says Nameless, indicating the dead lycanthropes. “But just in case….” He casts a protective spell and then produces a pinch of glittering dust, which he flings in the air as he casts another spell on Korm. The Gatekeeper’s skin gleams metallically for a second. “Stonekin. That should make it harder to hurt you.” The others follow suit, even as they hear the doors slowly grind open. There is a pause, and then a thick voice. Muffled slightly by the intervening fog, it is soft but harsh, like the rasp of a blade on a distant grindstone, and – probably – female. “Are you going to come out?” the speaker asks, “Or will I have to come in?”“We’re quite fine here, thank you,” says Nameless. “Please join us.”The reply is a chuckle, followed by “All right.” The voice adds something in the language of giants, addressing someone else, “Don’t interfere, but don’t let anyone leave.” Then there is the sound of someone striding swiftly through the fog, evidently not slowed by the magical impediment. The figure that steps through stands just under nine feet in height, but is slightly stooped, and wears a cloak and a jerkin, both the color of dried blood, through gaps in which mithral armor gleams. Her limbs, covered in withered skin that is a deep indigo blue, are long and gnarled, ending in fingers tipped by long black talons. The hag’s eyes gleam redly and she smiles, showing needle-sharp teeth, as she eyes the Angels. Though he has never seen one before, Nameless has no trouble identifying the type of individual in front of them. Annis hag. His eyes flicker over the various magical auras on her equipment. Hmm! No protective spells, but lots of magic equipment. Korm’s attention is drawn instead to the gleaming black head of the large battleaxe that sticks out above her shoulder. Adamantine! Crap! Then he focuses on the hag, remembering tales he has heard of the annis who ravaged the Eldeen Reaches for years before coming to rule Droaam. Must be...“Sora Maenya, I presume?” asks Nameless.“Yes,” she says, “And you must be the Guardian Angels of Sharn.” Her gaze drops to the tentacle protruding from his sleeve, Nameless not having bothered to use the hat of disguise today. “Nice tentacle.”“Thank you,” says Nameless politely. Noticing her gaze shift to the four large corpses, he adds, “Your hospitality is slightly lacking.”“So I’m sometimes told,” Maenya says, sounding unperturbed. “I thought it might be a good way to test some new recruits. You must have some serious power to have defeated them.” Her smile broadens. “Maybe I should find out firsthand.”Luna’s lips curl back off her teeth, while Gareth and Korm grip their weapons more tightly, the three of them forming a rough semi-circle around the hag. She’s very powerful or very cocky, to stroll in here and challenge us this way, thinks Nameless, and says quickly, “We’d be quite happy to tell you about it. Without violence, preferably. We don’t need to fight.”Maenya throws back her head and laughs. And then suddenly stops. “Yes, but let’s.” And she charges forward.* Ogre dire werewolves, to be precise.** Raging ogre dire werewolf with a 44 Str, which put it ahead of many great wyrm</blockquote>

Verification