Struggle and Strife- A scarred lands storyhour
- Thread starter Lars Frehse
- Start date
Lars Frehse
First Post
Ruins of Sky Keep - part 4 of 4
„Alright then,“ he said „ I think it would be best if you would leave me some space. The ratmen who were fiddling with this vault have disappeared. Maybe the trap just teleports you into the sky, so that you plummet to your death...“.
Trepat took of his backpack, and after rummaging through it for a while, he held three scrolls in his hand. He handed one of them to Torn: „This is a scroll of featherfall. If you really find yourself in the sky, falling towards the earth, you should cast it. You will fall gently like a feather then.“
Torn took the scroll and then Trepat continued:“ I will also cast two spells on you which will make you smarter and more dextrous for a while. I think you can use it.“
Ben and Niklas waited as Trepat cast the spells and then, after wishing Torn good luck, they retreated to what they considered a safe distance, where they watched as their friend started to carefully examine the vault.
As he went to work, Torn forgot everything around him, and the vault became the monothilitic center of his universe. The runes on the vault were apparently runes of protection, some of them summoning the force of Chardun, the god of binding for further divine strength. The lock seemed to be complicated, but he was confident that he could pick it. But the real problem wasn’t mechanical in nature, but magical. No matter how well he would pick the lock, that wouldn’t help him against the magical protection, which would teleport him to Erias knows where...
The only way for him to overcome the lock would be to somehow block the magical trap without setting it of. He took another look at the lock. It seemed to be made of an alloy of lead and iron and there was a connection between it and the runes, with a small gap between the lock and the frame. Wiping the sweat from his brow, he searched through his pack, where he found a crossbowbolt made from the same material. If he would succeed in blocking the magical trap by wedging the bolt between lock and trap correctly, he should be able to open it. If the trap was triggered to the proximity of that alloy, that was... It was a long shot, but there was nothing else he could do.
He used the back of his hand to wipe his forehead, which was sweaty in spite of the cold air in the cave, and holding his breath, he inserted the bolt into the space between vault and lock. For a moment he thought he had trembled too much and not inserted it evenly, but nothing happened: neither did he find himself in the fires of hell nor in an endless blue sky- he had succeeded.
The rest was easy. He used some pitch to make sure that the bolt would stay even if he opened the door, and then he set to work on the lock. It was truly complicated, but now that he could take his time and didn’t have to worry about being taken to a possibly deadly place, he started to work on the lock with an air of confidence.
After a while, surrounded by his friends, he had succeeded, and pulling the door, he opened the vault that now, more than ever, looked like an upright giant coffin. They almost expected to find a carcass in there which fitted in size to the coffin, but as the door swung open, they saw that the vault was almost empty.
In it, there was only a small pedestal on which a large tome was resting. The tome itself was bound in burgundy velvet and locked with an iron clasp. Inspite of the rough end of sky keep and the passage of many years ever since, it looked as if it had been placed on the pedestal merely minutes ago.
Torn wasn’t sure about any further traps, and so he scanned the vaultfloor, the pedestal and the book first, and only when he felt certain there was no trap, he picked it up to study the lock. He found no way to open it, and handed it to Trepat who found out that powerful magic was keeping the book close. „Definetly too powerful for us“, the elf said „ but I would bet that the Vigils have the means to get it opened.“.
Now that they had the book, they talked for a while and decided to take a look at what where the opposite corridor lead first. Even though they were tired and hurt, they would probably never climb up here again, and having defeated the Slitheren, there should be no harm in exploring the ruins, after all.
They found further caves, of which most were empty. Then, as they turned a corner, they stood in front of a cavern that was completely covered in green phosphorescent slime, which was flooding the cave in a sickly light. In the slime, they saw remnants of leather, bones and metal, which were being dissolved by the slime as they were watching.
Several humanoids were being dissolved right now, and it looked as if for some reason they had been dropped into the slime in the middle of the cave, not too long ago. There were bits of fur as well, and soon they realized that those were indeed the remnants of slitheren.
„I think this is where the ratmen had been displaced to.“, Niklas said, looking Torn, who was staring at the slime.
The Halforc swallowed and pulled out the scroll of featherfall which he handed over to Trepat: „ I think you can have it back now. It wouldn’t have done me much good after all...“.
Except for one place, they found nothing more of interest anywhere. However, there was one cave where a strange scar-covered humanoid creature that shot sinews from it’s arms and mouth threatened them. It wanted the scroll, and just as the others were about to turn, Ben attacked it with his sling. The being pulled itself under the ceiling of the cavern, some 40 yards over the floor, from where it shot it’s sinews at Ben and Trepat and using it like a form of infernal fishing rod, started to pull them upwards with the hooks set into the friends’ flesh.
Torn used a scroll that allowed him to climb the walls like a spider, and hanging upside down, he approached the fiend. It dropped Ben and Trepat, who crashed to the ground and fought Torn, but the halforc hit it square in the chest, so that it lost it’s grip on the ceiling and crashed to the floor, where he remained, twisted and lifeless.
They tended to their wounds, and then, after finding nothing but empty caves and castle structures, they went back to the plateau.
There, Swift Jane had been feasting on the cadavre of one of the ratmen they had killed there. As the others turned away in disgust, Ben petted her and then, looking at the remaining three corpses, he came up with an idea.
„I think I could skin them. There should be enough fur intact for a coat and a cap. And maybe I could use the skulls for bowls...“
Niklas was flabberghasted: „ What? Are you insane? These were feeling and concious beings!“
„ I don’t see any difference between sentient beings and animals. Furthermore, they are dead anyway, so I might as well make their death more useful.“
„But I thought halflings were more civilized!“, Niklas offered.
„ The Gravelfists took me into their tribe, so I am an orc. And I like the fur of these here, so I see no reason why I shouldn’t use them. You weren’t above drinking from a skull there after we had defeated the Proud, either. I will do it.“.
Trepat shrugged: „ Well, it is alright with me. But you know that once you are wearing a coat and a cap made from slitheren fur, there is no chance we will ever encounter ratmen peacefully again.“
Ben, who had already started to skin one of the Slitheren, looked up: „They always attack us, anyway. Slitheren-fur coat or no.“
Now Torn interjected: „ The brood of Golthain didn’t attack us. They even helped us.“
„Yes, I suppose so“, Ben answered „but they are blind, so it doesn’t matter with them.“.
Seeing that there was no chance to change Ben’s mind, the others gave up. They made camp in the entrance of the caves before the peak in their back threw it’s mighty shadow at them and it turned night. Then, they went asleep- they would start their descent at first light of the morning and so they were eager to get as much sleep before that as was possible.
„Alright then,“ he said „ I think it would be best if you would leave me some space. The ratmen who were fiddling with this vault have disappeared. Maybe the trap just teleports you into the sky, so that you plummet to your death...“.
Trepat took of his backpack, and after rummaging through it for a while, he held three scrolls in his hand. He handed one of them to Torn: „This is a scroll of featherfall. If you really find yourself in the sky, falling towards the earth, you should cast it. You will fall gently like a feather then.“
Torn took the scroll and then Trepat continued:“ I will also cast two spells on you which will make you smarter and more dextrous for a while. I think you can use it.“
Ben and Niklas waited as Trepat cast the spells and then, after wishing Torn good luck, they retreated to what they considered a safe distance, where they watched as their friend started to carefully examine the vault.
As he went to work, Torn forgot everything around him, and the vault became the monothilitic center of his universe. The runes on the vault were apparently runes of protection, some of them summoning the force of Chardun, the god of binding for further divine strength. The lock seemed to be complicated, but he was confident that he could pick it. But the real problem wasn’t mechanical in nature, but magical. No matter how well he would pick the lock, that wouldn’t help him against the magical protection, which would teleport him to Erias knows where...
The only way for him to overcome the lock would be to somehow block the magical trap without setting it of. He took another look at the lock. It seemed to be made of an alloy of lead and iron and there was a connection between it and the runes, with a small gap between the lock and the frame. Wiping the sweat from his brow, he searched through his pack, where he found a crossbowbolt made from the same material. If he would succeed in blocking the magical trap by wedging the bolt between lock and trap correctly, he should be able to open it. If the trap was triggered to the proximity of that alloy, that was... It was a long shot, but there was nothing else he could do.
He used the back of his hand to wipe his forehead, which was sweaty in spite of the cold air in the cave, and holding his breath, he inserted the bolt into the space between vault and lock. For a moment he thought he had trembled too much and not inserted it evenly, but nothing happened: neither did he find himself in the fires of hell nor in an endless blue sky- he had succeeded.
The rest was easy. He used some pitch to make sure that the bolt would stay even if he opened the door, and then he set to work on the lock. It was truly complicated, but now that he could take his time and didn’t have to worry about being taken to a possibly deadly place, he started to work on the lock with an air of confidence.
After a while, surrounded by his friends, he had succeeded, and pulling the door, he opened the vault that now, more than ever, looked like an upright giant coffin. They almost expected to find a carcass in there which fitted in size to the coffin, but as the door swung open, they saw that the vault was almost empty.
In it, there was only a small pedestal on which a large tome was resting. The tome itself was bound in burgundy velvet and locked with an iron clasp. Inspite of the rough end of sky keep and the passage of many years ever since, it looked as if it had been placed on the pedestal merely minutes ago.
Torn wasn’t sure about any further traps, and so he scanned the vaultfloor, the pedestal and the book first, and only when he felt certain there was no trap, he picked it up to study the lock. He found no way to open it, and handed it to Trepat who found out that powerful magic was keeping the book close. „Definetly too powerful for us“, the elf said „ but I would bet that the Vigils have the means to get it opened.“.
Now that they had the book, they talked for a while and decided to take a look at what where the opposite corridor lead first. Even though they were tired and hurt, they would probably never climb up here again, and having defeated the Slitheren, there should be no harm in exploring the ruins, after all.
They found further caves, of which most were empty. Then, as they turned a corner, they stood in front of a cavern that was completely covered in green phosphorescent slime, which was flooding the cave in a sickly light. In the slime, they saw remnants of leather, bones and metal, which were being dissolved by the slime as they were watching.
Several humanoids were being dissolved right now, and it looked as if for some reason they had been dropped into the slime in the middle of the cave, not too long ago. There were bits of fur as well, and soon they realized that those were indeed the remnants of slitheren.
„I think this is where the ratmen had been displaced to.“, Niklas said, looking Torn, who was staring at the slime.
The Halforc swallowed and pulled out the scroll of featherfall which he handed over to Trepat: „ I think you can have it back now. It wouldn’t have done me much good after all...“.
Except for one place, they found nothing more of interest anywhere. However, there was one cave where a strange scar-covered humanoid creature that shot sinews from it’s arms and mouth threatened them. It wanted the scroll, and just as the others were about to turn, Ben attacked it with his sling. The being pulled itself under the ceiling of the cavern, some 40 yards over the floor, from where it shot it’s sinews at Ben and Trepat and using it like a form of infernal fishing rod, started to pull them upwards with the hooks set into the friends’ flesh.
Torn used a scroll that allowed him to climb the walls like a spider, and hanging upside down, he approached the fiend. It dropped Ben and Trepat, who crashed to the ground and fought Torn, but the halforc hit it square in the chest, so that it lost it’s grip on the ceiling and crashed to the floor, where he remained, twisted and lifeless.
They tended to their wounds, and then, after finding nothing but empty caves and castle structures, they went back to the plateau.
There, Swift Jane had been feasting on the cadavre of one of the ratmen they had killed there. As the others turned away in disgust, Ben petted her and then, looking at the remaining three corpses, he came up with an idea.
„I think I could skin them. There should be enough fur intact for a coat and a cap. And maybe I could use the skulls for bowls...“
Niklas was flabberghasted: „ What? Are you insane? These were feeling and concious beings!“
„ I don’t see any difference between sentient beings and animals. Furthermore, they are dead anyway, so I might as well make their death more useful.“
„But I thought halflings were more civilized!“, Niklas offered.
„ The Gravelfists took me into their tribe, so I am an orc. And I like the fur of these here, so I see no reason why I shouldn’t use them. You weren’t above drinking from a skull there after we had defeated the Proud, either. I will do it.“.
Trepat shrugged: „ Well, it is alright with me. But you know that once you are wearing a coat and a cap made from slitheren fur, there is no chance we will ever encounter ratmen peacefully again.“
Ben, who had already started to skin one of the Slitheren, looked up: „They always attack us, anyway. Slitheren-fur coat or no.“
Now Torn interjected: „ The brood of Golthain didn’t attack us. They even helped us.“
„Yes, I suppose so“, Ben answered „but they are blind, so it doesn’t matter with them.“.
Seeing that there was no chance to change Ben’s mind, the others gave up. They made camp in the entrance of the caves before the peak in their back threw it’s mighty shadow at them and it turned night. Then, they went asleep- they would start their descent at first light of the morning and so they were eager to get as much sleep before that as was possible.
Last edited:
Lars Frehse
First Post
Serpent in the fold- part 1
As the spider went after her relentlessly, Tears of Her Enemies grew anxious. Behind the spider which had been a harmless halfling just a few minutes ago, she saw that Spineback, her companion both in battle and under her blanket was fighting a losing battle against the Barbazu and her other followers, who had intended to open the vault, were being defeated by the followers of gods who had found them up here, in spite of all their precautions.
She felt the spider's poison weakening her, and swearing revenge, she left her friends and followers, and touching the ring Hielaa had given to her, she wished herself to the base of the mountain.
Suddenly, she was out of the damp cavern and away from the battle, and she fell from a height of ten feet into brushes under her. She brushed herself off, and looking around she saw that it was only noon outside. Only a few hours ago, everything looked as if she would hold the tome in her hand any minute now, and now this: Defeat.
Tears of Her Enemies sat down, and while she was massaging her hurt limbs and her tail was twitching as if it had a will of her own, she contemplated her option. There was no point in returning to her superiors empty-handed- she would end as a sacrifice to the Witch Queen at best, and even though she was a devoted follower of Mormo, her will to live was still strong. It was all Amra's fault, she thought, slamming a fist into the ground. While she, Tears of Her Enemies, the red witch, was endangering her life here in the field, the Lady of Serpents was playing it safe among the other humans.
The red Witch spit out. They shouldn't have relied on humans in the first place. No matter where they pledged their allegiance, they were just too unreliable. Amra had promised that none of the groups the Vigilantes sent out would achieve anything. And yet here she was, last survivor of her troop, and the godspeople up there were probably holding the tome in their hands already.
But not all was lost just yet, Tears of Her Enemies told herself. After all, she had been given the command over the troop because she was flexible and creative. Think! She told herself. There must still be a way to get hold of the document.
It was then that the Slitheren took the time to look around. Above her, in the west, she saw the towering mass of Mount Croiganne and ahead of her, down some slopes, there was the Blood Basin, laying calmly like a gigantic mirror in the sun. She shaded her eyes with her hand and looked down to the lake, searching for anything that could be an advantage for her, until she spotted a small cluster of houses at the point where the northern branch of the Hornswythe River was running into the Blood Basin.
If her enemies wanted to travel back to Lave either on horseback or on boat, they would have to go to that village. There was no other settlement nearby, and there were many dangers for the divine folks in this region, so that they would most likely prefer to leave these ragged hills behind and return to Vesh.
Tears of her Enemies was still in pain and feeling sluggish because of the poison, but at least she knew what she had to do now. When she had scaled the mountain, she had noticed signs and hints that indicated many titanspawn living here in the hills and mountains. If she could find some of them and convince them to help her, she would have a chance. Of course there was no guarantee that who or whatever she would find wouldn't kill her right away. But she was ready to take the chance.
She spent the rest of the afternoon looking for a cave to sleep in, and on the next morning, she took two potions, which restored her health and weakened the poison, so that she had at lest the strength to go searching for possible allies.
Meanwhile, the heroes were descending from the mountain. They had had a good night's sleep and were no coming back the way they had come up. This didn't make it easier, though. In fact, some of the steeper parts of the climb looked even more daunting when you were looking down, seeing the next plateau far, far below you than when you were looking up.
Still, they got down, slowly but surely, and on the second evening of their descent, they were already happily talking of sleeping in a bed in the village down below on the next night. By the time it took them to reach the little pinewood that seperated the last slope from the village, the sun was already setting to the west, Mount Croiganne's mighty shadow covering everything in darkness.
Jan was the first to notice that something seemed wrong. In the low hanging clouds above them, he saw the hint of an orange glow. Yet, the clouds were too low for the sun to be reflected in them, so apparently there was a source of light somewhere else. He told his friends and now that they stood still and looked up, they caught the scent of smoke mixed with the smell of the pinetrees around them.
Their view was still blocked by the trees around them, so they decided that one of them would have to climb up. "I would like to go up," Torn said "but I doubt that the trees would carry my weight if I went up to the top".
Ben looked at the trees, and seeing that they were really rather thin, he unstrapped his backpack and dropped it on the moss- and needle-covered forest floor. Focusing on his memories of his life as a spider, he climbed up with the slow and exact movements of a spider. Up there, he saw the source of the fire. The forest ended after a few hundred yards, and beyond that, maybe two miles from where they were, he saw two bonfires burning side by side. He hardly saw anything else, but from what he remembered, he was rather certain that the fires were burning in the village where he had caught up with his friends after the storm.
He climbed down and told his friends, who started to speculate right away. Maybe the village was under attack? Maybe some Mormo-worshippers were laying a trap for them, or maybe the villagers were simply celebrating a local holiday? But all speculation got them nowwhere, and so they proceeded to the edge of the forest.
There, they could all see the two fires now. Between them and the village there were only a few fields, and they had a good view. Squinting his eyes, Trepat said:" I think I can see two humanoids in front of the fires... If I am right though, those must be giants: they are larger than the huts there.´"
"Maybe Torn and me should scout ahead", Niklas said.
The others agreed, and soon the monk and the rogue were using haystacks and other obstacles as cover to get nearer to the city. As they got closer, they were able to confirm what the elf had said. There were indeed two giants standing in front of the bonfire in the village square, and each of them had the height of a two story house. When they had almost reached the perimeter of the village and the animal pens, they got a good view on the giants.
They were massive humanoids with bulging, distorted musculatures which were constantly spasming and twitching, seemingly causing the giants pain. They looked like they had much more muscles than their bodies had been originally designed for, and their right arms were ending in a completely oversized fist, making it look like a huge battering ram.
The giants were standing in what looked like a pen, surrounded by a wooden fence. In the pen, with the giants, there were many smaller humanoids. Niklas stood up to get a better look, and now he saw that the smaller humanoids were indeed the women and children of the village who were fearfully pushing against the wooden fence, trying to keep as far away from the giants as possible.
As the spider went after her relentlessly, Tears of Her Enemies grew anxious. Behind the spider which had been a harmless halfling just a few minutes ago, she saw that Spineback, her companion both in battle and under her blanket was fighting a losing battle against the Barbazu and her other followers, who had intended to open the vault, were being defeated by the followers of gods who had found them up here, in spite of all their precautions.
She felt the spider's poison weakening her, and swearing revenge, she left her friends and followers, and touching the ring Hielaa had given to her, she wished herself to the base of the mountain.
Suddenly, she was out of the damp cavern and away from the battle, and she fell from a height of ten feet into brushes under her. She brushed herself off, and looking around she saw that it was only noon outside. Only a few hours ago, everything looked as if she would hold the tome in her hand any minute now, and now this: Defeat.
Tears of Her Enemies sat down, and while she was massaging her hurt limbs and her tail was twitching as if it had a will of her own, she contemplated her option. There was no point in returning to her superiors empty-handed- she would end as a sacrifice to the Witch Queen at best, and even though she was a devoted follower of Mormo, her will to live was still strong. It was all Amra's fault, she thought, slamming a fist into the ground. While she, Tears of Her Enemies, the red witch, was endangering her life here in the field, the Lady of Serpents was playing it safe among the other humans.
The red Witch spit out. They shouldn't have relied on humans in the first place. No matter where they pledged their allegiance, they were just too unreliable. Amra had promised that none of the groups the Vigilantes sent out would achieve anything. And yet here she was, last survivor of her troop, and the godspeople up there were probably holding the tome in their hands already.
But not all was lost just yet, Tears of Her Enemies told herself. After all, she had been given the command over the troop because she was flexible and creative. Think! She told herself. There must still be a way to get hold of the document.
It was then that the Slitheren took the time to look around. Above her, in the west, she saw the towering mass of Mount Croiganne and ahead of her, down some slopes, there was the Blood Basin, laying calmly like a gigantic mirror in the sun. She shaded her eyes with her hand and looked down to the lake, searching for anything that could be an advantage for her, until she spotted a small cluster of houses at the point where the northern branch of the Hornswythe River was running into the Blood Basin.
If her enemies wanted to travel back to Lave either on horseback or on boat, they would have to go to that village. There was no other settlement nearby, and there were many dangers for the divine folks in this region, so that they would most likely prefer to leave these ragged hills behind and return to Vesh.
Tears of her Enemies was still in pain and feeling sluggish because of the poison, but at least she knew what she had to do now. When she had scaled the mountain, she had noticed signs and hints that indicated many titanspawn living here in the hills and mountains. If she could find some of them and convince them to help her, she would have a chance. Of course there was no guarantee that who or whatever she would find wouldn't kill her right away. But she was ready to take the chance.
She spent the rest of the afternoon looking for a cave to sleep in, and on the next morning, she took two potions, which restored her health and weakened the poison, so that she had at lest the strength to go searching for possible allies.
Meanwhile, the heroes were descending from the mountain. They had had a good night's sleep and were no coming back the way they had come up. This didn't make it easier, though. In fact, some of the steeper parts of the climb looked even more daunting when you were looking down, seeing the next plateau far, far below you than when you were looking up.
Still, they got down, slowly but surely, and on the second evening of their descent, they were already happily talking of sleeping in a bed in the village down below on the next night. By the time it took them to reach the little pinewood that seperated the last slope from the village, the sun was already setting to the west, Mount Croiganne's mighty shadow covering everything in darkness.
Jan was the first to notice that something seemed wrong. In the low hanging clouds above them, he saw the hint of an orange glow. Yet, the clouds were too low for the sun to be reflected in them, so apparently there was a source of light somewhere else. He told his friends and now that they stood still and looked up, they caught the scent of smoke mixed with the smell of the pinetrees around them.
Their view was still blocked by the trees around them, so they decided that one of them would have to climb up. "I would like to go up," Torn said "but I doubt that the trees would carry my weight if I went up to the top".
Ben looked at the trees, and seeing that they were really rather thin, he unstrapped his backpack and dropped it on the moss- and needle-covered forest floor. Focusing on his memories of his life as a spider, he climbed up with the slow and exact movements of a spider. Up there, he saw the source of the fire. The forest ended after a few hundred yards, and beyond that, maybe two miles from where they were, he saw two bonfires burning side by side. He hardly saw anything else, but from what he remembered, he was rather certain that the fires were burning in the village where he had caught up with his friends after the storm.
He climbed down and told his friends, who started to speculate right away. Maybe the village was under attack? Maybe some Mormo-worshippers were laying a trap for them, or maybe the villagers were simply celebrating a local holiday? But all speculation got them nowwhere, and so they proceeded to the edge of the forest.
There, they could all see the two fires now. Between them and the village there were only a few fields, and they had a good view. Squinting his eyes, Trepat said:" I think I can see two humanoids in front of the fires... If I am right though, those must be giants: they are larger than the huts there.´"
"Maybe Torn and me should scout ahead", Niklas said.
The others agreed, and soon the monk and the rogue were using haystacks and other obstacles as cover to get nearer to the city. As they got closer, they were able to confirm what the elf had said. There were indeed two giants standing in front of the bonfire in the village square, and each of them had the height of a two story house. When they had almost reached the perimeter of the village and the animal pens, they got a good view on the giants.
They were massive humanoids with bulging, distorted musculatures which were constantly spasming and twitching, seemingly causing the giants pain. They looked like they had much more muscles than their bodies had been originally designed for, and their right arms were ending in a completely oversized fist, making it look like a huge battering ram.
The giants were standing in what looked like a pen, surrounded by a wooden fence. In the pen, with the giants, there were many smaller humanoids. Niklas stood up to get a better look, and now he saw that the smaller humanoids were indeed the women and children of the village who were fearfully pushing against the wooden fence, trying to keep as far away from the giants as possible.
Nightfall
Sage of the Scarred Lands
First of all, I have to make the comment on Ben. Skinning the ratman!? Geez...Well I hope he doesn't expect too many others to be as appreciative...I was a little shocked that Tears made it, but good for her! 
Another enemy to deal out retribution later.
But my last comment, SURGED Giants!
I hope the guys don't mind taking a beating...
Another enemy to deal out retribution later.But my last comment, SURGED Giants!
I hope the guys don't mind taking a beating...Lars Frehse
First Post
When Ben's player announced that he would skin the Slitheren now, I, like all the other players, went slackjawed. This was definetly one of the moments when something happened I wouldn't have considered happening in a million years.
Right now, he still has to find someone to actually tailor the skins into something useful for him... Let's see what will happen then...
Right now, he still has to find someone to actually tailor the skins into something useful for him... Let's see what will happen then...
Lars Frehse
First Post
Serpent in the fold- part 2
Before Niklas could duck down again, he and Torn heard the sound of a whistling arrow which was flying towards them. As they turned around, Torn noticed that the arrow had landed just a few yards away from them and that there was a piece of paper wrapped around it's shaft.
He grabbed the arrow, and as he returned to his friends, he read the letter to Niklas, who was walking next to him.
Good day again,
as you can see, we hold the villagers hostage. If you want them to live, one of you shall go ahead and hand over Chardun's tome on the market square. If you do not comply, each and everyone of the villagers will die. We will start by killing the mothers in front of their children and then let the fathers watch their children die before they, too will die. This means that unless you hand over the tome, their blood will be on your hands.
Any attempt to fool us will result in the villagers' death as well. Decide quickly, for we will start killing one hostage with each hour that passes within one hour.
Tears of Her Enemies
For Tears of Her Enemies, everything had worked out even better than she would have dared hoping for. She had succeeded in winning over the pair of Surged Giants who were living in the hills. She knew that it would take the giants only one swing with those oversized fists of theirs to kill her in an instant, but she succeeded in winning them over. Apparently, the pair had wanted to attack the village for quite a while, but they were afraid of the watchmen's arrows and pikes. So she walked ahead, protected by an invisibility spell, and casting sleep spells at the village's defenders they took the village by surprise. From then on, locking away the men and finding a new use for the fences around the village to put the weaker hostages on display for anyone who approaches had been easy.
When she had discovered one of her hated enemies next to town, she slightly raised from her position on a roof and shot the arrow with the message into his vicinity. She watched him and the halforc returning back to the edge of the forest with the arrowthen, and she knew that they had taken the bait.
Half an hour later, she saw the Paladin of Corean coming down the path between the fields, his shining armor glowing with the red light of the fire in her back. There was none of the others of his group with him and when he was standing merely ten yards from her, she signalled him to stop. In her back, each giant was holding up one woman in his functioning hand, and they were waiting for her signal to squish them in their hands, the way a human would squish a tomato.
"I think there is no need to waste time with any formal talk", she hissed, smiling gleefully at the expression of worry in the human's face:" Hand over the tome, and the villagers will live.".
"The giants should put the women back to the ground first!"
Tears of Her Enemies was infuriated. What was this human thinking, giving orders to her, a proud woman of the Red Witches? It was time to teach him a lesson in humility. After all, they had more than enough hostages, so that one more or less wouldn't matter. She raised her left hand over her shoulder and snapped her fingers.
Recognizing the signal, one of the giant's faces was further distorted by a sadistic grin. He pressed his hand, and amidst the sound of cracking bones and her screams of agony, he pressed until her intestines exploded and her head fell of like a doll's.
By that time however, Ben tumbled out of the air in the middle of the pen, and then Niklas appeared, who kicked at the giant's leg. At the same time, Jan drew his sword, moving forward to attack Tears of Her Enemies, and Torn charged around the corner of one of the huts.
In spite of the surprising development of things around her, Tears of Her Enemies was ready. She knew that the godsfollowers were likely to react irrationaly, and so she was able to cast a quick spell just before the Paladin could reach her. Three magic missiles hit Jan, but he ignored the magical effects crashing in him, and focusing his divine wrath, he hacked at the red witch, wounding her severly at the shoulder.
Meanwhile, Niklas landed two more punches against the giant in front of him, who roared up in pain and then smashed the monk with his fist. Niklas rolled with the punch, but still, even though he was able to dodge the fist itself, it's knuckles caught him in the side, and as he heard a sickening, crunching sound from his chest, he felt how all air was knocked out of him and he tasted blood in his mouth.
As the other giant rampaged through the village's women and children around him, killing at random, panic broke out. The women and those children old enough desperately climbed the fence, some of them holding up their toddlers or dragging other children along them. The screams and wailing drowned all other sounds and flooded all senses like a frantic cacophony. Then, on one part were several women were trying to climb the fence at once, the wood gave away, crashing outward and immediately all survivors in the pen streamed towards the opening, oblivious to what they were trampling over underfoot, as if they were a mass of water that had been held back by a dam which had now broken.
By then, Niklas had Tears of her Enemies with her back against a remaining wall. Her only route of escape had been blocked by Torn, so she cast a spell of invisibility again. Torn slashed his chain at where she had disappeared, but his metal hit nothing. At that moment, however, Jan noticed how the dirt of the ground was moved. Guessing that it had been caused by the Red Witch who had dodged the chain, Jan thrusted his sword at where he expected her to be, and with grim satisfaction, he felt how his blade hit on resistance for a moment, only to penetrate it. Then, he saw blood running down the blade, and a second later the Slitheren got visible again: impaled on his sword like a fish on a stick, ready to be held over the fire. Looking up, he saw that her toothy mouth stood open, and her dead eyes still had the look of surprise to them.
Niklas and Ben kept on fighting, unaware of the fleeing villagers around them. While Niklas concentrated on avoiding the giant's brutal fist, Ben kept on healing him whenever he was hit. Then, as the other giant stepped over the fence, going after the killers of the Slitheren, Niklas jumped up and rammed his fist deeply into the giant's abdomen. Surprisingly, the skin, which was already way too tight over too many muscles ripped open and the Surged Giant watched helplessly as his intestines spilled out, covering both Ben and Niklas in stinking blood and gore.
The dying giant fell backwards as his mate reached Torn and Jan. He hit Jan, and as if he were nothing more than an empty can, he smashed the armor, leaving the knocked out Paladin in his now useless armor on the ground. Now, it was only Torn left. The Halforc attacked the giant, cutting open an arm of his opponennt and then he braced himself for his opponent's answer.
At one of the larger houses, the door burst open and the villager's men, hollow-eyed and weakened after having been locked in there for two days now, came out. Immediately, they headed for their homes, where they would pick up their bows. Torn didn't have the chance to watch their escape, though. The giant's fist came at him with unearthly speed and as he was punched into the ground, several bones snapping, a merciful darkness embraced him.
Niklas was heavily wounded, but he saw no other chance to gain time for his two dying friends, and so he tumbled to the remaining giant and hit him in the leg. He focused all his attention at his superior opponent as the giant, unexpectedly, turned away and ran. The loss of his mate and the witch was too much for him, and even though he was dimly aware that he could take many more of those pesky smallish people with him, he keenly remembered the pain of arrows hitting him when he had approached the village in the past.
As the giant ran away, all in the village forgot their many losses for a while. There would be time and need for grief and desperation later- now all those who could shouted and screamed as the basic animal joy of having survived took hold of them.
Before Niklas could duck down again, he and Torn heard the sound of a whistling arrow which was flying towards them. As they turned around, Torn noticed that the arrow had landed just a few yards away from them and that there was a piece of paper wrapped around it's shaft.
He grabbed the arrow, and as he returned to his friends, he read the letter to Niklas, who was walking next to him.
Good day again,
as you can see, we hold the villagers hostage. If you want them to live, one of you shall go ahead and hand over Chardun's tome on the market square. If you do not comply, each and everyone of the villagers will die. We will start by killing the mothers in front of their children and then let the fathers watch their children die before they, too will die. This means that unless you hand over the tome, their blood will be on your hands.
Any attempt to fool us will result in the villagers' death as well. Decide quickly, for we will start killing one hostage with each hour that passes within one hour.
Tears of Her Enemies
For Tears of Her Enemies, everything had worked out even better than she would have dared hoping for. She had succeeded in winning over the pair of Surged Giants who were living in the hills. She knew that it would take the giants only one swing with those oversized fists of theirs to kill her in an instant, but she succeeded in winning them over. Apparently, the pair had wanted to attack the village for quite a while, but they were afraid of the watchmen's arrows and pikes. So she walked ahead, protected by an invisibility spell, and casting sleep spells at the village's defenders they took the village by surprise. From then on, locking away the men and finding a new use for the fences around the village to put the weaker hostages on display for anyone who approaches had been easy.
When she had discovered one of her hated enemies next to town, she slightly raised from her position on a roof and shot the arrow with the message into his vicinity. She watched him and the halforc returning back to the edge of the forest with the arrowthen, and she knew that they had taken the bait.
Half an hour later, she saw the Paladin of Corean coming down the path between the fields, his shining armor glowing with the red light of the fire in her back. There was none of the others of his group with him and when he was standing merely ten yards from her, she signalled him to stop. In her back, each giant was holding up one woman in his functioning hand, and they were waiting for her signal to squish them in their hands, the way a human would squish a tomato.
"I think there is no need to waste time with any formal talk", she hissed, smiling gleefully at the expression of worry in the human's face:" Hand over the tome, and the villagers will live.".
"The giants should put the women back to the ground first!"
Tears of Her Enemies was infuriated. What was this human thinking, giving orders to her, a proud woman of the Red Witches? It was time to teach him a lesson in humility. After all, they had more than enough hostages, so that one more or less wouldn't matter. She raised her left hand over her shoulder and snapped her fingers.
Recognizing the signal, one of the giant's faces was further distorted by a sadistic grin. He pressed his hand, and amidst the sound of cracking bones and her screams of agony, he pressed until her intestines exploded and her head fell of like a doll's.
By that time however, Ben tumbled out of the air in the middle of the pen, and then Niklas appeared, who kicked at the giant's leg. At the same time, Jan drew his sword, moving forward to attack Tears of Her Enemies, and Torn charged around the corner of one of the huts.
In spite of the surprising development of things around her, Tears of Her Enemies was ready. She knew that the godsfollowers were likely to react irrationaly, and so she was able to cast a quick spell just before the Paladin could reach her. Three magic missiles hit Jan, but he ignored the magical effects crashing in him, and focusing his divine wrath, he hacked at the red witch, wounding her severly at the shoulder.
Meanwhile, Niklas landed two more punches against the giant in front of him, who roared up in pain and then smashed the monk with his fist. Niklas rolled with the punch, but still, even though he was able to dodge the fist itself, it's knuckles caught him in the side, and as he heard a sickening, crunching sound from his chest, he felt how all air was knocked out of him and he tasted blood in his mouth.
As the other giant rampaged through the village's women and children around him, killing at random, panic broke out. The women and those children old enough desperately climbed the fence, some of them holding up their toddlers or dragging other children along them. The screams and wailing drowned all other sounds and flooded all senses like a frantic cacophony. Then, on one part were several women were trying to climb the fence at once, the wood gave away, crashing outward and immediately all survivors in the pen streamed towards the opening, oblivious to what they were trampling over underfoot, as if they were a mass of water that had been held back by a dam which had now broken.
By then, Niklas had Tears of her Enemies with her back against a remaining wall. Her only route of escape had been blocked by Torn, so she cast a spell of invisibility again. Torn slashed his chain at where she had disappeared, but his metal hit nothing. At that moment, however, Jan noticed how the dirt of the ground was moved. Guessing that it had been caused by the Red Witch who had dodged the chain, Jan thrusted his sword at where he expected her to be, and with grim satisfaction, he felt how his blade hit on resistance for a moment, only to penetrate it. Then, he saw blood running down the blade, and a second later the Slitheren got visible again: impaled on his sword like a fish on a stick, ready to be held over the fire. Looking up, he saw that her toothy mouth stood open, and her dead eyes still had the look of surprise to them.
Niklas and Ben kept on fighting, unaware of the fleeing villagers around them. While Niklas concentrated on avoiding the giant's brutal fist, Ben kept on healing him whenever he was hit. Then, as the other giant stepped over the fence, going after the killers of the Slitheren, Niklas jumped up and rammed his fist deeply into the giant's abdomen. Surprisingly, the skin, which was already way too tight over too many muscles ripped open and the Surged Giant watched helplessly as his intestines spilled out, covering both Ben and Niklas in stinking blood and gore.
The dying giant fell backwards as his mate reached Torn and Jan. He hit Jan, and as if he were nothing more than an empty can, he smashed the armor, leaving the knocked out Paladin in his now useless armor on the ground. Now, it was only Torn left. The Halforc attacked the giant, cutting open an arm of his opponennt and then he braced himself for his opponent's answer.
At one of the larger houses, the door burst open and the villager's men, hollow-eyed and weakened after having been locked in there for two days now, came out. Immediately, they headed for their homes, where they would pick up their bows. Torn didn't have the chance to watch their escape, though. The giant's fist came at him with unearthly speed and as he was punched into the ground, several bones snapping, a merciful darkness embraced him.
Niklas was heavily wounded, but he saw no other chance to gain time for his two dying friends, and so he tumbled to the remaining giant and hit him in the leg. He focused all his attention at his superior opponent as the giant, unexpectedly, turned away and ran. The loss of his mate and the witch was too much for him, and even though he was dimly aware that he could take many more of those pesky smallish people with him, he keenly remembered the pain of arrows hitting him when he had approached the village in the past.
As the giant ran away, all in the village forgot their many losses for a while. There would be time and need for grief and desperation later- now all those who could shouted and screamed as the basic animal joy of having survived took hold of them.
Last edited:
Lars Frehse
First Post
Oh, Nightfall, I am sorry I forgot to answer your question regarding Ben's Spider Form! In this form, he is a medium sized hunting Spider, as it is presented in the Vernim appendix of the first MM.
Lars Frehse
First Post
Serpent in the fold- part 3
Niklas looked around, at the dying bonfires, the gigantic corpse in front of it and the villagers: men who were embracing their women and children again, and mourning men at the bodies of their dead wives or both men and women weeping at the remnants of their children. It had been a close call, he thought, and one more hit from the giant, and Niklas would most likely be as lifeless as the other dead now, but their plan had succeeded in the end.
After he and Torn had brought the message back to their friends, they had worked out a plan. Torn had sneaked into the village, protected from all eyes by his cloak of elven kind. But before he had set of into the darkness of the evening, he had given Niklas a potion.
It had been the priceless potion of invisibility that Brother William had given to Torn at what appeared to have been a completely different life now, back when they had left Durrover city. Then Ben, who was the only one small enough to do it, had crawled into their bag of holding, disappearing into the tiny pocket dimension and after picking up the bag, he had drunk the potion, turning invisible.
Still invisible he went into the village, and mustering all his physical prowees, he had jumped over the six foot tall fence into the pen. The moment Jan had attacked Tears of Her Enemies, he had emptied the bag, spilling Ben onto the floor and had sprung into action himself.
Now, after the battle, Ben took care of the injured, and with the help of his wands, he brought Torn and Jan. Jan back to conciousness, and he then proceeded to take care of the villagers, but for seven women and four children, all help came too late.
Each of the friends was painfully aware that again they had brought pain and misery upon the friendly people of this village. And again, the villagers were unaware of this and celebrated them like heroes. Their victory felt hollow, but still they accepted when one of the fishermen offered them to take them over to Mansk on the next morning.
There isn't much to say about their journey back to Lave. They identified a magical ring which they had torn of the cold dead hand of Tears of Her Enemies and found out that this insignificant looking item was indeed a rather powerful treasure: It had the power to store magical spells that had been cast upon it so that anyone could use them again.
Many days, first on their trip to Mansk and later on a riverboat down the Hornswythe, they discussed the many possible uses of the ring, and how they could get the biggest advantage out of it. It kept their minds from lingering too long on the many horrible events of the last days and weeks and kept them busy when there was nothing for them to do but waiting while they were being taken to Lave.
On the last day of their journey, however, when they were merely hours from Lave, something else captured their attention. To the south, behind the rolling hills where they expected to find the capitol of Vesh, they saw a thunderstorm brewing. And from all they could tell, this was no natural storm. Instead, it looked like the ones they had witnessed when the Storm Hag had appeared...
As the first fat raindrops fell from the darkening sky above them, creating single, isolated circles in the surface of the river, they urged the crewmembers of the riverboat on to go faster down the meandering river. The sailors were as eager as they were to get home to Lave, but still it took them hours until they finally turned around a bend and they saw the harbor of Lave in front of them.
Meanwhile, the day was as dark as night, and they saw crimson lights beyond the citywalls, indicating fires in the city itself! From the skies, lightning and fire was raining down, and occasionaly, they saw gargantuan dark shapes moving in the cover of the clouds. On the walls, vigilantes, priests and wizards were returning the fire, shooting fire, lightning and arrows skywards.
The rain was pouring down, and the boat had barely reached the pier, as several refugees pressed forward, offering gold and jewelry for a place on their boat, pleading with the crewmembers to take them away. In all this confusion, fighting against the stream of refugees who were pushing out of the gates towards the harbor, the friends fought on to make it to the gates.
They stopped several refugees, who were all panic-stricken. "Don't you know?" a wildhaired man with a crazed look in his eyes shouted at them:" Dragons! There are Dragons! We are all going to die!"
Other too told them of horrible news: There were Snakepeople and Ratmen in the city itself, torching the houses, why dragons, hags and other titanspawn were raining down death from above. If they wanted to live, they should better run!
But for the heroes, running away was no option. They needed to get to Amra Varith- the gods knew what damage she could do in a situation like this, with the Home Commander himself trusting her...
They passed the city gates, which stood open and blackened, twisted and cast aside by a mighty force and the corpses of two dead city guards lay nearby, as blackened and twisted as the gates they had once guarded. From there on, they headed straight to the Hall of Command, as people were running around, some extinguishing fires which were burning at several points in spite of the heavy downpour, others were fleeing from small bands of titanspawn, Slitheren and Asaathi mostly while others, guards and stronger townspeople were facing those invaders in the alleys and streets where they found them.
As they got closer to the Hall of Command, the streets got emptier, though, and soon all they heard was the far away thunder and the staccato of the rain hitting on the pavement. Niklas, as soaking wet as his companions with his hair clinging to his balding skull in wet patches and his robe sticking to his body, stopped them for a while, and speaking loudly over the rain, he said:" It looks like the Titanspawn are drawing the defenders away from the Hall of Command!"
"Let's go then!", Torn shouted and they ran up the wet and slippery roads to the hill on which the hall of command was standing. The doors of the former lavish manor house were closed, but not locked, and the friends burst into an empy Foyer.
There was a massive staircase directly opposite the entrance doors, and right after they slammed the double doors closed behind them, Torn noticed that the dark green rug was soaked with blood in the middle, and there was a trail of blood leading to the watercloset to the right of the stairs.
He motioned his friends to remain silent, and after pointing at the blood trail he went to the closet's door. After his friend had taken position to attack whatever may lurk therein, he jerked open the door. Once the door was open, the two corpses of the guards which had been shoved into the closet fell outwards, one with his throat slit and the other stabbed multiple times from behind.
They didn't need much time to recover from the shock. Hunkering down, Niklas discovered that there was a second trail leading away from the corpses. Apparently, whoever had killed the two guards had taken some blood with him.
The trail lead them upstairs, through secret doors, some rooms and more stairs up into one of the towers of the mansion. They climbed up into the tower, and on the second landing, they made a horrible discovery. As the lightning outside sent it's white light into the tower, making a snapshot of the moment that was underlined by the rumbling thunder, the heroes stumbled over the still bleeding but quite dead bodies of two Veshian guards.
Rain was drumming against the picture windows as more lightning cracked through the sky. The guards were obviously killed very recently, with precise striked of a short blade to vital areas. Blood was tracked further up the staircase by delicate, booted feet, like those of an elf or slight human woman. Jan said one word, and it summed up what they were all thinking:" Amra!".
They ran up the last stairs, taking two and three steps at a time, and as they reached the top of the tower they found themselves in an attic where large furniture, statuary and the like was stored. It all looked ghastly in the shifting lights of the thunderstorm around and above them, and there was a doorway with iron door which was standing wide open that lead to a vault.
In the middle of the vault, that was full of chests and glass displays with strange artifacts, Home Commander Kelemis Durn was laying in a pool of his own blood. Behind him, in front of an opened display, Amra Varith was just flinging a backpack over her shoulder. She was about to jump over the body, giving it no more heed than any inanimate object, as she noticed the men coming up the stairs. Her eyes lit up and she grinned like a cat that was ready to play and drew her two swordshorts, confidently stepping forward to meet her enemies.
Niklas looked around, at the dying bonfires, the gigantic corpse in front of it and the villagers: men who were embracing their women and children again, and mourning men at the bodies of their dead wives or both men and women weeping at the remnants of their children. It had been a close call, he thought, and one more hit from the giant, and Niklas would most likely be as lifeless as the other dead now, but their plan had succeeded in the end.
After he and Torn had brought the message back to their friends, they had worked out a plan. Torn had sneaked into the village, protected from all eyes by his cloak of elven kind. But before he had set of into the darkness of the evening, he had given Niklas a potion.
It had been the priceless potion of invisibility that Brother William had given to Torn at what appeared to have been a completely different life now, back when they had left Durrover city. Then Ben, who was the only one small enough to do it, had crawled into their bag of holding, disappearing into the tiny pocket dimension and after picking up the bag, he had drunk the potion, turning invisible.
Still invisible he went into the village, and mustering all his physical prowees, he had jumped over the six foot tall fence into the pen. The moment Jan had attacked Tears of Her Enemies, he had emptied the bag, spilling Ben onto the floor and had sprung into action himself.
Now, after the battle, Ben took care of the injured, and with the help of his wands, he brought Torn and Jan. Jan back to conciousness, and he then proceeded to take care of the villagers, but for seven women and four children, all help came too late.
Each of the friends was painfully aware that again they had brought pain and misery upon the friendly people of this village. And again, the villagers were unaware of this and celebrated them like heroes. Their victory felt hollow, but still they accepted when one of the fishermen offered them to take them over to Mansk on the next morning.
There isn't much to say about their journey back to Lave. They identified a magical ring which they had torn of the cold dead hand of Tears of Her Enemies and found out that this insignificant looking item was indeed a rather powerful treasure: It had the power to store magical spells that had been cast upon it so that anyone could use them again.
Many days, first on their trip to Mansk and later on a riverboat down the Hornswythe, they discussed the many possible uses of the ring, and how they could get the biggest advantage out of it. It kept their minds from lingering too long on the many horrible events of the last days and weeks and kept them busy when there was nothing for them to do but waiting while they were being taken to Lave.
On the last day of their journey, however, when they were merely hours from Lave, something else captured their attention. To the south, behind the rolling hills where they expected to find the capitol of Vesh, they saw a thunderstorm brewing. And from all they could tell, this was no natural storm. Instead, it looked like the ones they had witnessed when the Storm Hag had appeared...
As the first fat raindrops fell from the darkening sky above them, creating single, isolated circles in the surface of the river, they urged the crewmembers of the riverboat on to go faster down the meandering river. The sailors were as eager as they were to get home to Lave, but still it took them hours until they finally turned around a bend and they saw the harbor of Lave in front of them.
Meanwhile, the day was as dark as night, and they saw crimson lights beyond the citywalls, indicating fires in the city itself! From the skies, lightning and fire was raining down, and occasionaly, they saw gargantuan dark shapes moving in the cover of the clouds. On the walls, vigilantes, priests and wizards were returning the fire, shooting fire, lightning and arrows skywards.
The rain was pouring down, and the boat had barely reached the pier, as several refugees pressed forward, offering gold and jewelry for a place on their boat, pleading with the crewmembers to take them away. In all this confusion, fighting against the stream of refugees who were pushing out of the gates towards the harbor, the friends fought on to make it to the gates.
They stopped several refugees, who were all panic-stricken. "Don't you know?" a wildhaired man with a crazed look in his eyes shouted at them:" Dragons! There are Dragons! We are all going to die!"
Other too told them of horrible news: There were Snakepeople and Ratmen in the city itself, torching the houses, why dragons, hags and other titanspawn were raining down death from above. If they wanted to live, they should better run!
But for the heroes, running away was no option. They needed to get to Amra Varith- the gods knew what damage she could do in a situation like this, with the Home Commander himself trusting her...
They passed the city gates, which stood open and blackened, twisted and cast aside by a mighty force and the corpses of two dead city guards lay nearby, as blackened and twisted as the gates they had once guarded. From there on, they headed straight to the Hall of Command, as people were running around, some extinguishing fires which were burning at several points in spite of the heavy downpour, others were fleeing from small bands of titanspawn, Slitheren and Asaathi mostly while others, guards and stronger townspeople were facing those invaders in the alleys and streets where they found them.
As they got closer to the Hall of Command, the streets got emptier, though, and soon all they heard was the far away thunder and the staccato of the rain hitting on the pavement. Niklas, as soaking wet as his companions with his hair clinging to his balding skull in wet patches and his robe sticking to his body, stopped them for a while, and speaking loudly over the rain, he said:" It looks like the Titanspawn are drawing the defenders away from the Hall of Command!"
"Let's go then!", Torn shouted and they ran up the wet and slippery roads to the hill on which the hall of command was standing. The doors of the former lavish manor house were closed, but not locked, and the friends burst into an empy Foyer.
There was a massive staircase directly opposite the entrance doors, and right after they slammed the double doors closed behind them, Torn noticed that the dark green rug was soaked with blood in the middle, and there was a trail of blood leading to the watercloset to the right of the stairs.
He motioned his friends to remain silent, and after pointing at the blood trail he went to the closet's door. After his friend had taken position to attack whatever may lurk therein, he jerked open the door. Once the door was open, the two corpses of the guards which had been shoved into the closet fell outwards, one with his throat slit and the other stabbed multiple times from behind.
They didn't need much time to recover from the shock. Hunkering down, Niklas discovered that there was a second trail leading away from the corpses. Apparently, whoever had killed the two guards had taken some blood with him.
The trail lead them upstairs, through secret doors, some rooms and more stairs up into one of the towers of the mansion. They climbed up into the tower, and on the second landing, they made a horrible discovery. As the lightning outside sent it's white light into the tower, making a snapshot of the moment that was underlined by the rumbling thunder, the heroes stumbled over the still bleeding but quite dead bodies of two Veshian guards.
Rain was drumming against the picture windows as more lightning cracked through the sky. The guards were obviously killed very recently, with precise striked of a short blade to vital areas. Blood was tracked further up the staircase by delicate, booted feet, like those of an elf or slight human woman. Jan said one word, and it summed up what they were all thinking:" Amra!".
They ran up the last stairs, taking two and three steps at a time, and as they reached the top of the tower they found themselves in an attic where large furniture, statuary and the like was stored. It all looked ghastly in the shifting lights of the thunderstorm around and above them, and there was a doorway with iron door which was standing wide open that lead to a vault.
In the middle of the vault, that was full of chests and glass displays with strange artifacts, Home Commander Kelemis Durn was laying in a pool of his own blood. Behind him, in front of an opened display, Amra Varith was just flinging a backpack over her shoulder. She was about to jump over the body, giving it no more heed than any inanimate object, as she noticed the men coming up the stairs. Her eyes lit up and she grinned like a cat that was ready to play and drew her two swordshorts, confidently stepping forward to meet her enemies.
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