Eccles
Ragged idiot in a trilby.
The 5 adventurers approached the heavy stone warehouse with some caution, as though the very shadows themselves might suddenly reveal hidden killers. When they reached the building, they looked at it nervously. The structure was squat and covered in a thick layer of moss. Faint signs of rust could be seen running along the large iron doors, and Flynne had finished readying his climbing gear before they registered that there were no windows under the layers of ivy.
Under the moss, just above the doors, was a stone carving which read “Sodden Hold”.
Disgusted, the elf packed his ropes back into his bag, and then pulled out his tools and scrutinising the door for traps. Once satisfied, he set to work with patience and attention to detail. Having oiled the enormous hinges, he pulled one door slightly open and slipped inside, followed by the others, all of whom were wearing new, or subtly altered equipment.
Although Flynne looked largely unchanged, Igmut followed through the door resplendent in a new suit of exceptionally shiny armour, made from an extremely rare mithril alloy. His hands were encased in a set of gauntlets which had clearly received some of Endo’s attention, as they resembled skeletal hands crafted out of the same metal. His knuckles were topped with small glittering skulls. Around his waist was a thick leather belt, with a series of spiders webs buckled with a gem encrusted spider. The orc looked somehow heavier and tougher, and yet moved with a lightness which was slightly unnerving to those looking at his massive 400 pound frame.
Malachite (followed by the lithe form of Sheba) had clearly invested a large sum of money in upgrading some of his existing items, although he had arranged to have the work done by a less sinister wizard, whilst Endo who entered behind him had obviously had no such reservations. He wore a shiny diadem around his head, with a pattern of spiders etched into the metal, whilst he carried himself with an air of confidence and power.
Evan followed them into the room; beyond changing his adventuring outfit for a similar costume made to a better cut and with finer material, the only changes to his equipment were a few lines of colourful stitching, and a pair of half-moon spectacles resting on his nose which he raised to squint through as he stepped into the room.
.oOo.
The open room within was caked in dust, and cluttered with aging casks, barrels and crates. Despite the dust, the room was partially lit by torches dotted around the walls. On the left side were a pair of doors, and overhead a long catwalk spanned the room.
Shuddering, Malachite transformed into a large ape, almost the spitting image of the departed Clive. He leapt onto a crate, and climbed from there onto the catwalk, prowling along it into a small room at one end. He pulled back from the room and gestured to indicate nothing being there.
On the floor below, the others moved towards the two doors, and watched as Flynne again carefully inspected them in turn. Before he went for his tools, he looked around. Seeing another door on the other side of the room, under the far side of the catwalk, he approached it, and placed his ear to listen at it.
As he touched the door, there was an ominous click, and then a horrible clanking noise from the ground at his feet. He flexed his knees, and leapt high into the air as a ten foot square of the ground immediately in front of the door fell away to reveal a 40 foot drop into a pit lined with spikes. Flynne, however, arced gracefully above the drop; his arms outstretched, he pinwheeled in the air and landed on the very edge of the pit; his toes hanging over the drop as gravel and dust dropped down beneath him.
.oOo.
A while later, balanced precariously on a plank of wood suspended between two crates, Flynne listened again at the door. It was silent. He teased the lock open with his picks and pushed. The door didn’t move, and Flynne punched it in frustration – the door resounded not with the hollow sound of an empty room beyond a wooden surface, but the flat smack of hand on plaster – the whole door was an elaborate trap.
Cautiously, the two remaining doors were opened, revealing nothing of interest in either of them save a ladder up to the catwalk, and a series of ledgers detailing a fish canning business which had gone bust some ten years earlier.
The room was searched, chests and barrels inspected, and the frustrated group were running out of ideas before Flynne called out to them from the blank wall at the far end of the catwalk, above the false door. He had found a concealed entrance in the wall, and after a careful few minutes work the door sprang open. The group readied their weapons, and entered.
.oOo.
Behind the door was a staircase leading down into a chamber with three unlocked chests inside it. These were swiftly looted, yielding up a cloak, a flask of liquid, a small bag filled quite implausibly deeply with several hundred coins, and a familiar looking harp-crested dagger and ring.
Flynne, standing by the chests, passed these last two around the group, but only Evan had any suggestion about where the items might have come from – he suggested that he might have seen a similar weapon amongst the arms and armour at Eligos’ manor house that morning.
Although nobody was certain whether this was right or not, and Evan himself was unsure in this idea, they decided not to dwell on their finds, and turned to the door in one wall of this room, which was swiftly unlocked and opened by Flynne. The door opened into an unpleasant, cage-lined wall which smelled of straw, sweat and misery.
Within the room were 5 cells, several of which contained live captives. One was an elven female, whilst in the cell next to her wailed a corpse-like human, barely clinging to both life and sanity.
Igmut, clearly appalled by so many people being deprived of their freedom, demanded that Flynne unlock the cages - which he did. The human was healed by Igmut’s magics, but simply grinned up at the huge orc and dribbled. Clearly, whatever had happened to him had deprived him of more than simply his health, but had also destroyed much of his mind.
The elf-woman was freed next, and she thanked Flynne briefly for unlocking her cell, before demanding that the group escort her to safety. Before doing this, however, they unlocked the third cell with anyone in it – this one containing two tired looking young human men.
To Flynne’s horror as he finished picking the heavy cell door’s lock, the two men rewarded him by reaching under the straw mattress. They pulled out swords and shields and charged at him, displaying dexterity and skill equal to the merchant in the inn. They both darted forwards to swing at him, before stepping backwards to a safe distance back in their cell.
Acting as though rehearsed, Igmut stepped up to the door and readied his heavy greatsword, whilst Endo cursed one of the two fake captives with a strength draining spell. For his part, Flynne simply slammed the door shut and locked it, grinning broadly at the two men within.
Now that they were safely contained, Malachite cast a spell which caused a cloud to materialise within the cell. A bold of lightning blasted down from it, shocking one of the two men amidst a crashing noise and a stench of ozone.
One of the captives, grinning contentedly, pulled a key from a pouch concealed at his belt, and unlocked the door. His stepped through, straight into Igmut’s sword swing which gashed him deeply down his sword arm.
Arrows, lightning, tiger claws and greatsword made short work of this attacker, and as he fell to the ground, his facial features blurred and contorted before subsiding into the faceless, smooth grey surface of a doppelganger.
Behind the others, Evan loaded his crossbow, spun on the spot, and pointed it directly into the face of the haughty elf woman, shouting “don’t you even twitch!” She didn’t.
The remaining aggressor was soon brought down. First he was cursed with Endo’s Weeping Wounds spell, making every slight damage all the worse through the tiny spirits which cackled and tore at them. He was then shot by Flynne before being savaged to death by a charging tiger. He also slumped to the floor, reverting as he did so to a blank faceless form.
.oOo.
The group spoke briefly to the elf woman, who said that she had been abducted perhaps a month ago, and demanded to be returned to her family.
The group were unwilling to leave the complex unexplored, and agreed that Evan should lead her out of the warehouse, whilst they stayed put, guarding the rooms to ensure that nothing could pass them. They agreed on a password, and Evan led her off to a nearby inn which they had seen, which they decided would be respectable enough for her to wait in safely.
Upon his return a while later, they readied weapons and spells, and moved towards the door at the back of the prison room…
Under the moss, just above the doors, was a stone carving which read “Sodden Hold”.
Disgusted, the elf packed his ropes back into his bag, and then pulled out his tools and scrutinising the door for traps. Once satisfied, he set to work with patience and attention to detail. Having oiled the enormous hinges, he pulled one door slightly open and slipped inside, followed by the others, all of whom were wearing new, or subtly altered equipment.
Although Flynne looked largely unchanged, Igmut followed through the door resplendent in a new suit of exceptionally shiny armour, made from an extremely rare mithril alloy. His hands were encased in a set of gauntlets which had clearly received some of Endo’s attention, as they resembled skeletal hands crafted out of the same metal. His knuckles were topped with small glittering skulls. Around his waist was a thick leather belt, with a series of spiders webs buckled with a gem encrusted spider. The orc looked somehow heavier and tougher, and yet moved with a lightness which was slightly unnerving to those looking at his massive 400 pound frame.
Malachite (followed by the lithe form of Sheba) had clearly invested a large sum of money in upgrading some of his existing items, although he had arranged to have the work done by a less sinister wizard, whilst Endo who entered behind him had obviously had no such reservations. He wore a shiny diadem around his head, with a pattern of spiders etched into the metal, whilst he carried himself with an air of confidence and power.
Evan followed them into the room; beyond changing his adventuring outfit for a similar costume made to a better cut and with finer material, the only changes to his equipment were a few lines of colourful stitching, and a pair of half-moon spectacles resting on his nose which he raised to squint through as he stepped into the room.
.oOo.
The open room within was caked in dust, and cluttered with aging casks, barrels and crates. Despite the dust, the room was partially lit by torches dotted around the walls. On the left side were a pair of doors, and overhead a long catwalk spanned the room.
Shuddering, Malachite transformed into a large ape, almost the spitting image of the departed Clive. He leapt onto a crate, and climbed from there onto the catwalk, prowling along it into a small room at one end. He pulled back from the room and gestured to indicate nothing being there.
On the floor below, the others moved towards the two doors, and watched as Flynne again carefully inspected them in turn. Before he went for his tools, he looked around. Seeing another door on the other side of the room, under the far side of the catwalk, he approached it, and placed his ear to listen at it.
As he touched the door, there was an ominous click, and then a horrible clanking noise from the ground at his feet. He flexed his knees, and leapt high into the air as a ten foot square of the ground immediately in front of the door fell away to reveal a 40 foot drop into a pit lined with spikes. Flynne, however, arced gracefully above the drop; his arms outstretched, he pinwheeled in the air and landed on the very edge of the pit; his toes hanging over the drop as gravel and dust dropped down beneath him.
.oOo.
A while later, balanced precariously on a plank of wood suspended between two crates, Flynne listened again at the door. It was silent. He teased the lock open with his picks and pushed. The door didn’t move, and Flynne punched it in frustration – the door resounded not with the hollow sound of an empty room beyond a wooden surface, but the flat smack of hand on plaster – the whole door was an elaborate trap.
Cautiously, the two remaining doors were opened, revealing nothing of interest in either of them save a ladder up to the catwalk, and a series of ledgers detailing a fish canning business which had gone bust some ten years earlier.
The room was searched, chests and barrels inspected, and the frustrated group were running out of ideas before Flynne called out to them from the blank wall at the far end of the catwalk, above the false door. He had found a concealed entrance in the wall, and after a careful few minutes work the door sprang open. The group readied their weapons, and entered.
.oOo.
Behind the door was a staircase leading down into a chamber with three unlocked chests inside it. These were swiftly looted, yielding up a cloak, a flask of liquid, a small bag filled quite implausibly deeply with several hundred coins, and a familiar looking harp-crested dagger and ring.
Flynne, standing by the chests, passed these last two around the group, but only Evan had any suggestion about where the items might have come from – he suggested that he might have seen a similar weapon amongst the arms and armour at Eligos’ manor house that morning.
Although nobody was certain whether this was right or not, and Evan himself was unsure in this idea, they decided not to dwell on their finds, and turned to the door in one wall of this room, which was swiftly unlocked and opened by Flynne. The door opened into an unpleasant, cage-lined wall which smelled of straw, sweat and misery.
Within the room were 5 cells, several of which contained live captives. One was an elven female, whilst in the cell next to her wailed a corpse-like human, barely clinging to both life and sanity.
Igmut, clearly appalled by so many people being deprived of their freedom, demanded that Flynne unlock the cages - which he did. The human was healed by Igmut’s magics, but simply grinned up at the huge orc and dribbled. Clearly, whatever had happened to him had deprived him of more than simply his health, but had also destroyed much of his mind.
The elf-woman was freed next, and she thanked Flynne briefly for unlocking her cell, before demanding that the group escort her to safety. Before doing this, however, they unlocked the third cell with anyone in it – this one containing two tired looking young human men.
To Flynne’s horror as he finished picking the heavy cell door’s lock, the two men rewarded him by reaching under the straw mattress. They pulled out swords and shields and charged at him, displaying dexterity and skill equal to the merchant in the inn. They both darted forwards to swing at him, before stepping backwards to a safe distance back in their cell.
Acting as though rehearsed, Igmut stepped up to the door and readied his heavy greatsword, whilst Endo cursed one of the two fake captives with a strength draining spell. For his part, Flynne simply slammed the door shut and locked it, grinning broadly at the two men within.
Now that they were safely contained, Malachite cast a spell which caused a cloud to materialise within the cell. A bold of lightning blasted down from it, shocking one of the two men amidst a crashing noise and a stench of ozone.
One of the captives, grinning contentedly, pulled a key from a pouch concealed at his belt, and unlocked the door. His stepped through, straight into Igmut’s sword swing which gashed him deeply down his sword arm.
Arrows, lightning, tiger claws and greatsword made short work of this attacker, and as he fell to the ground, his facial features blurred and contorted before subsiding into the faceless, smooth grey surface of a doppelganger.
Behind the others, Evan loaded his crossbow, spun on the spot, and pointed it directly into the face of the haughty elf woman, shouting “don’t you even twitch!” She didn’t.
The remaining aggressor was soon brought down. First he was cursed with Endo’s Weeping Wounds spell, making every slight damage all the worse through the tiny spirits which cackled and tore at them. He was then shot by Flynne before being savaged to death by a charging tiger. He also slumped to the floor, reverting as he did so to a blank faceless form.
.oOo.
The group spoke briefly to the elf woman, who said that she had been abducted perhaps a month ago, and demanded to be returned to her family.
The group were unwilling to leave the complex unexplored, and agreed that Evan should lead her out of the warehouse, whilst they stayed put, guarding the rooms to ensure that nothing could pass them. They agreed on a password, and Evan led her off to a nearby inn which they had seen, which they decided would be respectable enough for her to wait in safely.
Upon his return a while later, they readied weapons and spells, and moved towards the door at the back of the prison room…
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