The Height of Geekiness
What in blue blazes are you doing, D'Shai?
Working on a congratulations card for Fett and family.
I can see that, but why did you include a stat block of Little Fett?
So Fett knows what all of his abilites are. You know, things like
Air Activated Urination(Ex): Whenever Little Fett has his diaper changed, he can make an automatic attempt to pee on the diaper changer as a ranged touch attack with a +4 circumstance bonus. Rules for cover apply.
Good point. Tip of the Day?
In honor of Fett's new clone... I mean son... this post's TotD will be supplied by Fett, when he finally gets a chance to read this post.
Sounds good to me. Now push the submit button.
*push!*
*****
“Aurora!” The little girl heard her name roll indistinctly over the hills through the distant storm, as if pushed along by rumbles of thunder. With a giggle, she tossed her hair over her shoulder and looked up at her mother, who hugged her close and laughed as the latest thunderous wave washed over them. She snuggled back on her mother’s lap and the two began to hum along with the storm. “Aurora!” She heard her name again, this time clearer and stronger.
“Aurora!”
The sorceress awoke with a start, finding herself sitting cross-legged on the floor of the Master’s lair. She shook her head gingerly, clearing the fog in her head, and wondered for a moment how she had come to sit there. “What happened?” she asked of no one in particular.
“Your eyes glazed over and you just sat down and started humming.” Pack replied, peeking his head from behind Ashrem as the feloine helped the Aurora to her feet. “Say, you don’t know that name of the tune you were humming, do you? I know I’ve heard it before, but I can’t remember where. Definitely a woman singing it though, I’ll never forget that voice… Am I rambling?”
“Yes.” Aurora and Ashrem simultaneously supplied. The sorceress looked at the feloine, who regarded her with what she assumed was amusement, and she suddenly realized what it was she had been doing before her moment of befuddlement. “Oh! Ashrem, I think we can assume that this spell-trap manifests a confusion spell. I studied them at the academy. If I am remembering correctly, it copies the effect of powdered root from a dragon heart blossom. It is a difficult spell, beyond my ability, and I think any mage’s ability that I have ever met.”
“From that diagnosis, it seems we were all very lucky that the effects were short lived,” Ashrem remarked softly, already engrossed in studying the activation tile again. “Having felt the effects, I think I would like to avoid any future encounters with such magic.”
“Should we move on to the next set of tiles?” Aurora asked, groaning inwardly as she felt the exhaustion - from the fight with the Master, the quick and furious search trough the room’s traps, and not least the lingering effects of the confusion – finally catch up with her.
“These were the last,” the feloine replied, standing back up and dusting off his hands. “Thank you for your assistance; though my skills proved equal to the task of finding the more mechanical traps, without your aid I never would have been able to correctly identify the spells associated with triggers.”
“So what are we looking at, Ash?” Aurora heard Ander say from across the room. She looked over to see the disheveled but still handsome young man fidgeting under Theo’s care. She watched as he itched underneath a newly wrapped bandage and continued, “Is this room safe?”
“For a time, I believe,” Ashrem answered. “We have identified the functions of the levers and the traps that they activate; however, we have found no other exits. I fear we must either leave immediately, before suspicion falls on us, or hope that this creature had strict rules regarding entering its chambers. I would not rely heavily on the latter.”
“Me neither. But…” Aurora watched as Ander put a hand to his bandaged ribs with a sharp intake of breath, and her brow furrowed as she suddenly realized that Theo and Pack had exhausted their healing magic on the rest of the group, all at the woodsman’s insistence. Hangman’s Hood, Ander, why do you always have to be so… so… oooh! “But I think that we can afford a break. Thanks to Aurora’s magic we’ve cleaned up the mess left by Pack’s, er, ‘Bunny’, and brought everything inside, so I think we’ll be just fine until the next set of guards come. And a candle’s time would do us all some good, if only to catch our breath for a bit more. Right?” The sorceress nodded involuntarily and sighed as everyone else’s head also bobbed. At least she wasn’t the only one who needed a break.
“Good.” Ander continued. “Now all we have to do is think of a way to get those kids out of the slave pens without bloodshed. Especially ours.”
The room erupted in a steady but quiet stream of discussion: Ashrem, Theo, and Ander alternately stood and sat, seemingly examining and casting aside plan after plan, and Pack went back to sifting through the item and paper laden shelves and tables that lined the walls. She took a step toward the halfling to join him in his impromptu treasure hunt, and then spun around to give Meepo a warning not to touch anything only to find that he wasn’t in his customary spot. In fact, she realized, he hadn’t been with her the entire time she had been working with Ashrem.
Aurora scanned the room, half-expecting to find Meepo hiding amongst the piles of parchment, and found him in the far corner of the room, once again standing over the Master’s body and stabbing mechanically. “Meepo! I told you before to stop that!”
The kobold halted at the sorceress’ command, tilting his head in what Aurora now knew as a confused expression. From the knot of planners on the other side of the room, she heard Ashrem, “Let it have its fun, Aurora. This latest diversion keeps it out from underfoot, and it is obvious that your previous admonishments have made no impact. It would not surprise me to find that the little beast could not understand them in the first place.”
“Ash, leave it alone,” she heard Ander say quietly as she moved to stand beside her little friend. At least now Ander knows you’re a person, Meepo.
She sighed as she approached, wincing as Meepo gave another thunk to the Master’s body. How are you ever going to teach your tribe how to act civilized if you don’t? “He’s dead Meepo,” she explained for a third time, “and we don’t desecrate the bodies of our enemies. The gods don’t approve of that. We must show that we are better than that. Understand?”
The sorceress held Meepo’s gaze until she saw a spark of understanding in the kobold’s eyes. Then she patted her scaly friend on the head. The little warrior simply shrugged his shoulders and hopped away, heading to where Pack was rummaging through the endless clutter piled throughout the room.
For a moment, she considered joining the tiny pair. Pack’s ever growing pile of what he deemed valuable had grown as tall as the bard already, and was growing ever higher (though more slowly) with Meepo’s ‘help.’ Yet something held her back from sifting through the collection of exquisitely crafted pieces the Master had collected.
The Master… Aurora had seen death before - mostly on this trip - and each time it amazed the young woman how alive the dead looked, almost as if they were only trapped in some eternal slumber. The Master was no different: his head sprawled to one side, hiding the gash from Ashrem’s sword; his arms and legs neatly tucked by his side from when Theo and Ashrem had carried him out of the way; his breathing shallow.
Breathing?! The sorceress gasped, nearly falling over herself as she backed away.
“Ander?” she whispered, hoping to catch the woodsman’s ear without disturbing the Master, but the din from the trio of planners proved so loud enough to drown out anything less than a scream. Yet the Master had heard, and he opened one baleful eye that fixed on the Aurora’s pale face.
“Meepo missile!” Aurora ducked as the kobold vaulted over her from a nearby table. The dragon keeper slammed into the demon spear point first, nearly snapping the thick hafted weapon in half. The kobold clung to the wooden shaft as it recoiled and was slammed against the wall. The resounding collision brought everyone in the room running, weapon in hand. They were greeted by the sight of Meepo’s spear protruding from the demon’s chest like a flagpole waving in the breeze.
“He’s still alive!” Aurora said, a lump rising in her throat.
“What, Meepo?” Pack asked, “Of course he’s alive. A little confused maybe after a tumble like that, but…”
“No, Pack,” Ander said through gritted teeth, “the demon.”
“But we killed him already…Ashrem put his sword through his cheek,” the halfling took one of the creature’s horns and moved its shaggy head to the side. “See?” he said, pointing to the demon’s perfectly smooth face. The halfling glanced down, seemingly confused, and checked the other side, which was also smooth with new skin. “Hey look, his wounds are healing,” he said excitedly and then stopped as his face paled. “Wait a… Gods! His wounds are healing!” Pack dropped the Master’s head with a thump as if it had bitten him. For a half a moment, Aurora wondered if it had.
“Ashrem,” Ander ? from Aurora’s side, but the woodsman didn’t even need to give the order as the feloine drew his weapon and shoved it through its neck, pinning the demon to the stone floor. The sorceress watched in horror as he removed the wavering spear from the fiend’s chest only to have the wound slowly close before their eyes.
“Well this is a new development,” rumbled Theo, breaking the silence.
***
Aurora sat hunched over one of the desks in the room, putting the last touches on the document. She lifted it and blew on the still tacky ink before showing it to Ashrem, “Like this?” The feloine nodded and bent back over his own parchment. Satisfied for the moment, Aurora looked around while she massaged her sore fingers.
Theo and Ashrem worked side by side across the table from the sorceress, while Pack worked nearby at a smaller table. Across each were stacks of papers and parchment, all of which had samples of the demon’s script, and several half completed attempts to create a believable order to allow the companions to move ‘all slaves slated for the ritual’ as well as any others they chose. Meepo lay sprawled underneath the table with parchment of his own, his feet kicking absentmindedly in the air. He pored over the page, occasionally making a furious assault on in with multi-colored charcoal sticks pulled from the demon’s stores.
In the corner of the room, Ander watched over the demon’s body, using Meepo’s spear and Ashrem’s sword to stay one step ahead of the demon’s ever closing wounds. She watched his back as he worked until he turned around and showed a grim face covered with blood and gore. Aurora looked quickly away for fear that she would retch, and thanked the gods that she wasn’t the one who had such an unpleasant, if necessary, task. Then she picked up her quill and set to work again. Even if I can’t help, at least I can make it shorter.
As she worked, she wondered about the moments after her discovery: I’ll take care of this, Ashrem had said, a cruel and eager smile creeping over his jaws. No Ash, Ander had replied, I need you making those papers, like we agreed. He and his kind owe me, Ander. They owe more than you, lad, Theo had rumbled. Theo’s right, Ash, our job is to get those kids out, and that means you making sure those orders look believable. It had gotten worse when they discovered that they only way to kill the demon was with acid: a substance they didn’t have and that was conspicuously absent from the traps in the demon’s sanctum. And though they had eventually decided upon trapping the creature in its own pit, it still meant that at least one of them would be forced to do the unthinkable while the others finished forging documents.
Aurora worked as swiftly as she could, pausing only to sneak an occasional glance over at the woodsman, and she finished quickly. The others finished close behind, and Ashrem looked over them one last time before painstakingly signing his name to the bottom of each order (in several languages, based on what guards they ran across) and fixing a wax seal with the demon’s signet to each. By the time he scooped up the forged orders and handed them to Aurora, she had overseen the stowing of the most valuable pieces in the demon’s collection – a feathered cloak, a breastplate of boiled leather, a gilt wooden shield, three intricately carved staves of wood and ivory and silver, an articulated statue of a nightingale, a full suit of chain mail with a matching straight edged sword and dagger, a portable set of alchemical tools complete with gems both whole and ground into dust, a quartet of flasks with colorful liquid, a ruby ring wrought like a snake devouring its own tail, a heavy lion-headed club, and most strangely, a magnificent set of clothing, from hat to boots, in a style Aurora recognized as coming from Oscourt. To this she added a set of books and papers that Pack said looked like the list of family accounts from Durnan's back room. Meanwhile, Ander had manhandled the demon over to the pit.
When the demon disappeared into the pit with a sickly wet thump, Aurora winced, only turning back after the Ashrem threw the lever to once again close the pit and deactivate the rooms traps. Then she passed her hands over Ander’s muscled frame, using her magic to clean the gore from his skin and hair and armor, paying special attention to his face. His brown eyes were filled with pain, and she found tears welling in her own eyes before she managed to wrench herself away.
Ander motioned to Theo, who opened his arms and called out in his thunderous voice, “Baa-ramyu!” As soon as the door opened a shoulder’s width, Ashrem bolted through the door, his sword at the ready, and then stuck and arm through the widening gap and motioned the rest of the companions to follow. Ander was first, followed by Pack. Theo nodded to the girl and she gulped. “Here we go, I guess,” she said as she entered the hallway.
*****
Once again, congratulations from all of us, Fett!
