Sniktch's Story Hour - City of the Spider Queen (Updated 04/25)


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Doubt I'll be able to finish an update today - I've been home with the flu for a couple of days and my son dumped a glass of OJ down the back of the monitor this morning, so I'm just getting back on the computer.

Yeah, no spell or any other effect on Jack, he just turned yellow. Honestly, this was the last thing I expected from him, but I think he lost some of his fire when the green dragon killed him just before we started this adventure. I think he's serious about not wanting to mess with the drow anymore, even to the point of fleeing and never trying to figure out what happened to everyone else, and with the direction he picked, I can see him showing up in my PBEM soon since it is currently based in Travensburg.

Stump, what I don't understand is why you keep referring to '2 gnome hooked hammers.' Its a double weapon, so what are you going to do with the second one???

I'll try to get the next update finished ASAP so that everyone can read about the final fates of Malobar, Grick, and Quinn.
 

Jack

First the reason i left was i like Jack always have liked him i just didnt like the group kind of hard to play a lawful good cleric when you got a necromancer in the group i have wanted to find a way to work him out of the group for a while now but never wanted him to get killed and i saw a chance when i saw that the group was going to get killed i took the chance to get away so i ran and didnt look back so if he ever were to meet up with and one he could just play off and say he thought they were all dead cover his butt a little and i have allways wanted to clear out the Dwarven city of Duernfast near Travensburg and i knew that you have a group there and maybe i could join up with them and talk them into clearing out the city with me so thats why i did what i did and as for the hooked hammers i found out i was wrong about them 8)
 
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I would welcome Jack's assistance in my efforts at Duernfast, as things are rapidly getting beyond me. But you'll have to learn how to use punctuation first, Jack.
 

heh

you are like the 4th person to yell at me about that in the last 15 mins but i cant help it i never use the stuff takes up too much time and i have a hard time as it is remembering where the letters are on the keyboard
 

Quinn's Desperate Plea

Dungannon, you yourself once said something to the effect of, "Jack's got a great head on his shoulders.... if you need to break down a door!" so I don't see how you can possibly expect him to remember the delicate intricacies of such things as commas and periods. You'd better be willing to accept the aid of the illiterate or you may have to face the terrible Trembers alone ;)

Now, for all of you waiting to see what became of the characters taken prisoner by the dark elves, I will end the suspense:

*****

Quinn began to pray as soon as the door swung shut on her cell, pleading with Dumathoin to deliver her from captivity. She had made a mental note of where her companions were locked up – Grick was on her left and Malobar to the right. She was really worried about Grick; the monk had been stable but still in critical condition when they were brought here, and she was concerned that the dark elves’ rough handling of her friend had reopened his wounds. Still, she could do nothing about that now; she could only pray that she was given enough time to commune with her god before her captors came for her.

She reviewed the few remaining spells she had from the day before and the first faint glimmer of hope came into her heart. If she was given the time and if Dumathoin would but grant her one more she believed she could rescue her companions and escape.

A couple of hours later she was drawn from her meditation by noise in the hallway. She ignored the sounds at first, a fierce joy burning within her heart. Dumathoin had heard her pleas and answered; perhaps she would not die in this forsaken place after all!

She was wrenched back into the present situation by the sound of Malobar’s cell door opening. She could hear voices now from the next room, Malobar’s and a soft, feminine voice. If she strained she could even make out the words they spoke, but they were in a strange and foreign tongue that she couldn’t understand.

Quinn frowned. While she had no idea of the meaning of the words, something was still strange. She would have expected violent resistance from the elf, but Malobar’s voice seemed pleasant and conversational. Quinn silently muttered the words to one of the prayers still in her memory and suddenly the language made sense and she could understand the words that reached her.

Malobar was talking, “You are correct, milady. By my count three of my companions are missing and unaccounted for. The first would be the dwarf, Stumpwater Jack, whom you say abandoned us during the battle. He is a sturdy fighter and a minor priest of the dwarven war god, but I would not concern myself with him if I were you.

“The other two missing companions could prove to be a much more serious thorn in your side. They are Artimas Sendant, a human necromancer and priest of Arawn the Death Lord, and Welby Hilltopple, a savage halfling even stealthier than I. Artimas disappeared at the beginning of the battle but Welby had been sent out beforehand to infiltrate your city and report your defenses back to us.”

Quinn couldn’t believe her ears; the elf was selling them out! She listened in disbelief as he went on to describe their missing friends in intimate detail, then proceeded to tell his questioners everything he knew about the surrounding countryside and the most likely places to which his friends may have fled. Throughout it all the only voice she could make out and understand was Malobar’s – she could tell his interrogator was female, but she spoke too softly to be heard clearly through the thick door and walls.

Finally the voice rose sharply, cutting off the elf’s continued ramblings. “Enough,” it hissed, “I think that will do nicely. Poor proud dear, you weren’t nearly as tough as you thought you were now, were you? I must leave you now to speak with my brother Zedarr, but fret not, my pet. I will leave you in the capable hands of Dejz.

The speaker turned to someone else, “He is all yours now. You know what to do.”

Malobar’s voice answered, protesting, “But Mistress, I want to stay here with you!”

The only answer he received was a high pitched laugh that started to fade as the source paced away. The female’s voice called back one last time, causing Quinn’s blood to run cold. “Oh, and when you finish with the elf, do take care of the others, would you? I think he told us everything we need to know, and I see no purpose in keeping them around any longer.”

“Milady!” Malobar’s voice cried out in anguish one last time, followed by a choked off, gurgling cry. The noise spurred Quinn into sudden, desperate action. She turned to the left hand wall and placed he hands upon it, murmuring another of her left over spells that gradually softened the stone until it took on the consistency of thick clay. She tore into the weakened rock, clawing at it with both hands and pulling chunks free until she opened a space large enough to stick her head through.

She paused and looked into the next room and saw the still form of Grick lying on the cold floor. “Grick,” she hissed, “Grick!” but the half-orc was beyond hearing. He barely clung to life when the drow had tossed him into the small cell, and as the effects of the alcohol and adrenaline wore off his wounds had started to bleed again and he’d breathed his last without ever regaining consciousness. Of course Quinn did not know this, and only saw that her lifelong friend and companion lay hurt and in need of aid just beyond her fingertips.

The dwarf redoubled her efforts on the wall and rapidly widened the hole she’d made until it was large enough to squeeze through. She did so and discovered the truth of her friend’s condition as soon as she touched his cold, lifeless flesh. Choking back her sudden tears and fighting to stay focused on the present, she lifted the corpse in her arms and began chanting one final prayer, the last blessing granted to her by her deity.

The door to Quinn’s cell swung open a second later and a dark elf male appeared in the threshold, a sated grin on his bloodstained lips. The smirk gave way to a shocked expression as he surveyed the mess in the tiny cell and the large round hole in the wall. He raced to the opening and beheld the mud-encrusted dwarf female standing with the half-orc’s corpse in her arms, chanting softly and glowing with a fierce inner light. The dark elf vampire lunged for the prisoner but a bright flash lit up the room and he was forced to shield his sensitive eyes from the blinding flare. When his vision returned to normal the chamber was empty - no sign of either prisoner remained.

The undead grimaced as he dispersed into a cloud of vapor and floated down through the myriad cracks in the floor. Dorinna was not going to be pleased, and he felt very unlucky to be the one forced to deliver the bad news. At least they still had the elf in their possession; the surface dwellers would be in for a nasty surprise when they returned.

*****

Grick awoke on a barren, windswept plateau and blinked to adjust his sight to the bright light shining down upon him. When his vision cleared he sat up and examined his surroundings and saw his old friend sitting naked on a nearby rock with her back to him gazing wistfully at the azure sky. The two companions sat on a ten foot diameter circle of flat ground atop a mighty peak in a majestic range of snow capped purple peaks. Despite the height he felt no chill but only a soft, comforting warmth exuded from the rock beneath him. He glanced down and cleared his throat bashfully as he realized that he was as nude as his companion.

Quinn whirled around with a cheerful smile when she heard the monk. She saw him sitting up, contemplating his nakedness and slowly changing to a bright shade of scarlet. “Grick!” she yelled joyfully and embraced him in a crushing hug. “Its good to have you back.”

“Where are we, Quinn?" the monk asked, pulling free. "I remember getting drunk before the battle but that’s it. Are we dead and in heaven?”

“Close. You were dead until just a few moments ago, and we are in heaven, or at least I think this is heaven. I haven’t quite figured that part out yet.”

“What happened to the others? Are they all dead?”

“No, actually I believe that most of them escaped, although I don’t think we’ll see any of them any time soon. I had another vision while I prayed for your return – our friends now travel a dark road and it is not our place to walk beside them. It is up to Artimas and Welby to decide whether their efforts end in triumph or tragedy.”

Grick fell silent, contemplating the stunning view their high perch offered. At length his brow furrowed with concentration and he asked, ”So what do we do now?”

The dwarf priestess looked her companion over from head to toe and an impudent giggle escaped her lips. She reached over and patted his muscular thigh and smiled fondly at him, eliciting another crimson flush that stained his cheeks. She hesitated, enjoying her friend’s discomfort briefly before relenting and giving him an answer.

“Well, I think now we find something to wear.”
 
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Broccli_Head said:
Well, I'm glad Quinn and Grick got out. Poor Malobar.

Elves have lots of bad luck in your campaign. You got something against them?

No, honestly I don't. They were my favorite race back in my playing days. But since we started playing 3rd edition elves have been the unluckiest PC's I've ever seen. A list of all the elves I've seen in this and the other game I run, and what happened to them:

Eli (from the Prelude thread) - dissolved by a gelatinous cube
Eldred (from the Prelude thread) - eventually devoured by trolls.
Malobar - light snack for a vampire

and in my other campaign:
Malhavoc - victim if a death knell from an evil orcish priest
Bayne - a wild elf sorcerer who wandered to close to an ogre. The ogre rolled box cars for damage and took him to -10 even.
Tobias Hawthorne - elven ranger/devoted defender, another victim of an ogre great club.
and another elf who was around so briefly before being eaten by morghs (sp?) that we only can remember him as "Goatboy" (he was reincarnated as a satyr)

I don't know what gives here but the dice in our game have marked all elves for death.

Incidentally, I want to note that Grick didn't really make it out - he died and was raised by Quinn after she recovered his corpse ;) As for Quinn, she asked if she could pray for one spell and I dismissed the request off-hand, "Sure, why not?" without thinking too carefully.

Should have remembered Plane Shift. Oh well, I'm happy she made it out, too (see Dungannon, I'm not that big of a Rat Bastard :D)
 
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Hey

Um... Goatboy started out as an Assimar, not an Elf. And Britomar (Malobar as you call him) is still cool, and living, in an undead kind of way like the rest of my characters. *snorts* Mask *snorts*

DC.
 
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