The Defenders of Tronus - The Birth of Heroes (Updated 2/28/04)
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The Defenders of Tronus – An Abrasive Personality:
“No, you’re missing my point entirely,” chided Daz for the second straight hour. “What exactly are you good at? Playing a horn? What does that have to do with being a hero? You’re telling me that you’re not that great of a shot, but you usually stay towards the back and use your crossbow. You can cast spells, but you didn’t cast a single one to help your friend Storm before he fell. I’m just saying that I think Bards are useless.”
“Silence!” Azerot tried to keep the peace without getting too irate.
Yet Daz continued to instigate. “Well, I think that it’s a valid point to ask why a musician would be pretending to be a great warrior.”
Twizle huffed but held back his rage. They had a quest to complete or nearly 3,000 of his fellow citizens would perish from the plague. Twizle took to once again humming a tune for his upcoming musical. If he couldn’t make the elf stop talking, he could at least drown him out.
After several more long hours of climbing, the group finally crested the snowy peak. Ahead of them was a dimly lit cavern, with the only sign of light being the reflection off of a thick layer of webs that started only a few feet into the cave. “Cinder, take that web down,” instructed Azerot.
Cinder’s lantern of disguise threw a bit of warmth, but it wasn’t enough to light the webs on fire. Yet, the Fire Mephit in gnome guise had taken a few precautions to protect him form the cold. With a torch in his off-hand and several more chained about his waist, Cinder walked directly into the web filled cavern. There were several large and extremely venomous spiders living in the entranceway, but by the time Cinder made his way through the web filled area, none were left alive.
Meanwhile the rest of the party had heard two humans coming up the path chattering like old men enjoying afternoon tea on calm Slumbis afternoon. The party sat dumbfounded, not really feeling the need to prepare for battle, while silently fuming over the fact that they must have been followed. “Talley-Ho,” called the first of the men to crest the last stretch of path, making himself just visible to the Defenders. The man, who appeared to be nearing 50 years of age by the looks of his salt and pepper hair, turned to help his companion up the incline. The next man coming over the hill didn’t appear to be quite as old, but he had weathered at least 30 long days by the look of his leathery skin. The companion was laden with pots, pans, maps, and various adventuring gear that most adventurers deemed unnecessary. It was quite apparent that he was the lackey.
“Greetings, greetings young adventurers,” called out the comely older man. “A brisk day for adventuring ehh?”
“State your name and business old man,” called back Azerot in an annoyed tone.
“Well your friend Twizle could have told you that,” said the man with a sinister smile while Twizle shifted uncomfortably in the background. “My name is Gaelin Dor, adventurer extraordinaire!”
“He’s a thief,” spat an utterly disgusted Twizle.
“Now, let me speak. I’m not here to steal anyone’s treasure, but rest assured that there will be a capable adventurer right outside in case you find that the challenge is too difficult. I’d be more than happy to help carry your injured bodies to safety.”
“And take the Eye for your own,” accused Twizle.
Gaelin didn’t falter at the accusation. “If you’re not sturdy enough to win such a powerful item from those that possess it, then that should not be blamed on me.”
“So we do all of the research, take all the time to find the place, and you just show up?” Questioned Azerot as he too joined in on the argument
Rayna was upset as well, “What of all the people that will die if we fail to return to Tronus with the Eye of Zorm? That would be over 3,000 by my calculations. You wish to steal their lives as well?”
“Well, one much more rationale that yourself would realize this. One third of the people will not be affected by said plague, if it even exists. The second third would be the people saved by the clerics, healers and mystics of the surrounding communities. Yet the last third, those of whom you speak of with your bleeding heart, they are the dredges of society. Those who are either too stupid to seek the proper help in time, or so vile that the clerics will refuse to touch them. I believe that the answer is pretty clear.”
“You disgust me,” sneered Rayna in exasperation.
Without looking back, the group headed into the cave, still smoking slightly from Cinder’s clearing of the spider web. “Just holler if you need me,” called out Gaelin as the Defenders rounded the corner, but they tried their best to ignore them.
By the time the party caught up to Cinder, they found him sitting on the edge of some crude looking stone stairs that descended into the core of the mountain’s interior. As the Defenders approached, they noticed that Cinder was enduring a coughing fit.
“No go forward,” struggled Cinder while hacking up smoke and pointing toward a spot on the wall that appeared to have been the source of the poisonous gas.
“I’ll bet the floor is trapped,” proclaimed Azerot, and with a silent prayer to Kabod, the cleric’s body began dissipate into strands of dark gray smoke.
After Azerot’s smoke form reassembled in a large cloud, it slowly descended down the stairway without triggering any more of the traps. After reaching the bottom, Azerot resumed his natural form and called back to the others that the bottom was safe. Rayna quickly dipped into her extensive spell repertoire to enable the entire party to traverse the stairway without touching a single stair.
Yet, the unsuspecting Azerot at the bottom of the stairs was brutally attacked by an invisible foe. Without warning, lacerations appeared across his back, but the attacker didn’t know that this was one of the toughest clerics in Avrick. Azerot, determined to not to be the fool of this encounter, quickly moved away from the threatened area. As he approached the opposite side of the cave, he spoke a spell to purge the magic that was hiding his attacker.
When nothing was revealed by the spell, and the attacks continued, Azerot began to grow concerned. Meanwhile the others were moving slowly down the stairs, primarily due to Daz dragging his feet while Rayna was carrying him. Before the others had reached the bottom, Azerot had regained his composure and tried a new tactic. He held up his symbol of the elements and commanded the air around him to stop attacking.
After reeling from the surprise that it had worked, Azerot regained control and asked the creature he now commanded why he had been attacked. In a pale and whispery voice there was a reply, “I serve…I protect…this shrine of Trelar.”
“Know that we have come to help, and will not desecrate this shrine,” assured Azerot, as he dropped his command over the creature. “You can decide for yourself if I should pass.”
“Your, your honor is your passage…Trelar grants you passage,” whispered the invisible stalker.
“Thank you friend,” replied Azerot as he bowed toward the sound of the bodiless voice.
The rest of the Defenders having finally made it to fight by Azerot’s side found the battle to be over. Rayna glanced over with an approving smile that lasted all of five seconds before Twizle let out a big huff. “What is wrong now Twizle? Is it too much to ask that we not slaughter every magical creature in Arkyst?” asked Rayna in annoyance.
Twizle glared back at the Mystic Theurge before responding. “I’m not upset about that battle, I’m upset at the fact that Daz went charging down the corridor while we were standing here.”
Azerot, Cinder, and Rayna all look around wildly. Twizle was right, their overzealous companion was nowhere in sight, and he couldn’t have gone back up the stairs on his own. With a word spoken among them, they charged down the hallway at full speed. Daz was virtually unarmored and completely unencumbered, so it took some time for the rest of the party to catch up with him. They eventually found him inspecting some coffins in an alcove off of the main hall.
“Daz, what are you doing?” Questioned Azerot, like a mother scolding a misbehaving child.
“Just getting this quest underway. You guys are way to slow, and a little boring I might add.” Replied Daz without a care in the world.
“There is another alcove over here,” said Cinder, not understanding the impending argument.
Daz, finding it a good excuse to leave Azerot’s negative attitude behind, headed to the spot that Cinder’s lantern was now pointing. His elven eyes were guiding him through the near darkness as he explored what appeared to be another uneventful tomb. Daz had entertained the thought of looting the coffins, but Trelar’s finest were most likely protected with a bunch messy spells. Just when he thought his search was over however, he noticed something furry on the ground.
With an excitement possessed by few not wrapped in straightjackets, Daz patted along the furry shape to try and determine its size. Daz kept patting, until his hands reached over his head. Suddenly two yellow eyes appeared in the darkness as a massive black cat-like humanoid with four arms took a step forward. In a raspy voice it spoke two simple words, “Darkness Falls.”
“Woah,” exclaimed Daz as he darted back out of the alcove and into the hallway.
“I await the Eye. Bring it to me and I will let you live,” spoke the creature coldly.
“Sure, just wait here,” responded Daz with a grin to hide his fear.
Azerot shook his head and ignored the shadow beast. It apparently needed someone else to fetch the eye for it; perhaps it was the thing that had sent them on this quest to begin with. He was content to know that the beast needed the Defenders, since it didn’t tear Daz apart when it had the chance.
“No, you’re missing my point entirely,” chided Daz for the second straight hour. “What exactly are you good at? Playing a horn? What does that have to do with being a hero? You’re telling me that you’re not that great of a shot, but you usually stay towards the back and use your crossbow. You can cast spells, but you didn’t cast a single one to help your friend Storm before he fell. I’m just saying that I think Bards are useless.”
“Silence!” Azerot tried to keep the peace without getting too irate.
Yet Daz continued to instigate. “Well, I think that it’s a valid point to ask why a musician would be pretending to be a great warrior.”
Twizle huffed but held back his rage. They had a quest to complete or nearly 3,000 of his fellow citizens would perish from the plague. Twizle took to once again humming a tune for his upcoming musical. If he couldn’t make the elf stop talking, he could at least drown him out.
After several more long hours of climbing, the group finally crested the snowy peak. Ahead of them was a dimly lit cavern, with the only sign of light being the reflection off of a thick layer of webs that started only a few feet into the cave. “Cinder, take that web down,” instructed Azerot.
Cinder’s lantern of disguise threw a bit of warmth, but it wasn’t enough to light the webs on fire. Yet, the Fire Mephit in gnome guise had taken a few precautions to protect him form the cold. With a torch in his off-hand and several more chained about his waist, Cinder walked directly into the web filled cavern. There were several large and extremely venomous spiders living in the entranceway, but by the time Cinder made his way through the web filled area, none were left alive.
Meanwhile the rest of the party had heard two humans coming up the path chattering like old men enjoying afternoon tea on calm Slumbis afternoon. The party sat dumbfounded, not really feeling the need to prepare for battle, while silently fuming over the fact that they must have been followed. “Talley-Ho,” called the first of the men to crest the last stretch of path, making himself just visible to the Defenders. The man, who appeared to be nearing 50 years of age by the looks of his salt and pepper hair, turned to help his companion up the incline. The next man coming over the hill didn’t appear to be quite as old, but he had weathered at least 30 long days by the look of his leathery skin. The companion was laden with pots, pans, maps, and various adventuring gear that most adventurers deemed unnecessary. It was quite apparent that he was the lackey.
“Greetings, greetings young adventurers,” called out the comely older man. “A brisk day for adventuring ehh?”
“State your name and business old man,” called back Azerot in an annoyed tone.
“Well your friend Twizle could have told you that,” said the man with a sinister smile while Twizle shifted uncomfortably in the background. “My name is Gaelin Dor, adventurer extraordinaire!”
“He’s a thief,” spat an utterly disgusted Twizle.
“Now, let me speak. I’m not here to steal anyone’s treasure, but rest assured that there will be a capable adventurer right outside in case you find that the challenge is too difficult. I’d be more than happy to help carry your injured bodies to safety.”
“And take the Eye for your own,” accused Twizle.
Gaelin didn’t falter at the accusation. “If you’re not sturdy enough to win such a powerful item from those that possess it, then that should not be blamed on me.”
“So we do all of the research, take all the time to find the place, and you just show up?” Questioned Azerot as he too joined in on the argument
Rayna was upset as well, “What of all the people that will die if we fail to return to Tronus with the Eye of Zorm? That would be over 3,000 by my calculations. You wish to steal their lives as well?”
“Well, one much more rationale that yourself would realize this. One third of the people will not be affected by said plague, if it even exists. The second third would be the people saved by the clerics, healers and mystics of the surrounding communities. Yet the last third, those of whom you speak of with your bleeding heart, they are the dredges of society. Those who are either too stupid to seek the proper help in time, or so vile that the clerics will refuse to touch them. I believe that the answer is pretty clear.”
“You disgust me,” sneered Rayna in exasperation.
Without looking back, the group headed into the cave, still smoking slightly from Cinder’s clearing of the spider web. “Just holler if you need me,” called out Gaelin as the Defenders rounded the corner, but they tried their best to ignore them.
By the time the party caught up to Cinder, they found him sitting on the edge of some crude looking stone stairs that descended into the core of the mountain’s interior. As the Defenders approached, they noticed that Cinder was enduring a coughing fit.
“No go forward,” struggled Cinder while hacking up smoke and pointing toward a spot on the wall that appeared to have been the source of the poisonous gas.
“I’ll bet the floor is trapped,” proclaimed Azerot, and with a silent prayer to Kabod, the cleric’s body began dissipate into strands of dark gray smoke.
After Azerot’s smoke form reassembled in a large cloud, it slowly descended down the stairway without triggering any more of the traps. After reaching the bottom, Azerot resumed his natural form and called back to the others that the bottom was safe. Rayna quickly dipped into her extensive spell repertoire to enable the entire party to traverse the stairway without touching a single stair.
Yet, the unsuspecting Azerot at the bottom of the stairs was brutally attacked by an invisible foe. Without warning, lacerations appeared across his back, but the attacker didn’t know that this was one of the toughest clerics in Avrick. Azerot, determined to not to be the fool of this encounter, quickly moved away from the threatened area. As he approached the opposite side of the cave, he spoke a spell to purge the magic that was hiding his attacker.
When nothing was revealed by the spell, and the attacks continued, Azerot began to grow concerned. Meanwhile the others were moving slowly down the stairs, primarily due to Daz dragging his feet while Rayna was carrying him. Before the others had reached the bottom, Azerot had regained his composure and tried a new tactic. He held up his symbol of the elements and commanded the air around him to stop attacking.
After reeling from the surprise that it had worked, Azerot regained control and asked the creature he now commanded why he had been attacked. In a pale and whispery voice there was a reply, “I serve…I protect…this shrine of Trelar.”
“Know that we have come to help, and will not desecrate this shrine,” assured Azerot, as he dropped his command over the creature. “You can decide for yourself if I should pass.”
“Your, your honor is your passage…Trelar grants you passage,” whispered the invisible stalker.
“Thank you friend,” replied Azerot as he bowed toward the sound of the bodiless voice.
The rest of the Defenders having finally made it to fight by Azerot’s side found the battle to be over. Rayna glanced over with an approving smile that lasted all of five seconds before Twizle let out a big huff. “What is wrong now Twizle? Is it too much to ask that we not slaughter every magical creature in Arkyst?” asked Rayna in annoyance.
Twizle glared back at the Mystic Theurge before responding. “I’m not upset about that battle, I’m upset at the fact that Daz went charging down the corridor while we were standing here.”
Azerot, Cinder, and Rayna all look around wildly. Twizle was right, their overzealous companion was nowhere in sight, and he couldn’t have gone back up the stairs on his own. With a word spoken among them, they charged down the hallway at full speed. Daz was virtually unarmored and completely unencumbered, so it took some time for the rest of the party to catch up with him. They eventually found him inspecting some coffins in an alcove off of the main hall.
“Daz, what are you doing?” Questioned Azerot, like a mother scolding a misbehaving child.
“Just getting this quest underway. You guys are way to slow, and a little boring I might add.” Replied Daz without a care in the world.
“There is another alcove over here,” said Cinder, not understanding the impending argument.
Daz, finding it a good excuse to leave Azerot’s negative attitude behind, headed to the spot that Cinder’s lantern was now pointing. His elven eyes were guiding him through the near darkness as he explored what appeared to be another uneventful tomb. Daz had entertained the thought of looting the coffins, but Trelar’s finest were most likely protected with a bunch messy spells. Just when he thought his search was over however, he noticed something furry on the ground.
With an excitement possessed by few not wrapped in straightjackets, Daz patted along the furry shape to try and determine its size. Daz kept patting, until his hands reached over his head. Suddenly two yellow eyes appeared in the darkness as a massive black cat-like humanoid with four arms took a step forward. In a raspy voice it spoke two simple words, “Darkness Falls.”
“Woah,” exclaimed Daz as he darted back out of the alcove and into the hallway.
“I await the Eye. Bring it to me and I will let you live,” spoke the creature coldly.
“Sure, just wait here,” responded Daz with a grin to hide his fear.
Azerot shook his head and ignored the shadow beast. It apparently needed someone else to fetch the eye for it; perhaps it was the thing that had sent them on this quest to begin with. He was content to know that the beast needed the Defenders, since it didn’t tear Daz apart when it had the chance.
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The Defenders of Tronus – The Paladin’s Crypt:
Only a few steps around the corner from the shadow beast, was a horrid sight. A pile of undead laid clawing and scratching at the massive stone door that marked the final resting place of Mendegon the Devout. Arms and legs protruded from the door jam, indicating that these undead have been here since the tomb was sealed. Hundreds of years later, they remained, clawing at the base of the door, most of which had scratched their claws into nubs.
Azerot looked to Kabod yet again to expedite the quest as he called forth a small floating sphere of fire, and moved it directly into the pile of undead. After the fire died, the smoke and stench started to fill the corridor. The heroes were a little unsure that it was a cleaner way to defeat the near-helpless undead, but it was too late now.
Now that the mess of undead was nothing more than some smoldering embers, Daz moved up to the door to get a better perspective. As he approached, the door began to glow with a translucent blue light. In the background Rayna was insisting that Daz not touch the door, that she had the key of Annadielle Trueheart. Yet Daz was his own man, no woman would tell him what to do. The elven rogue took out his lockpicks and touched them to the lock. As he did, a large bolt of blue light shot out of the door and directly into Daz’s chest.
After Daz and been blown clear of the door, Rayna approached to use the key. Without any problems, the door opened to reveal a large stone room. The room itself was decorated, but not to excess, with the most flamboyant part being a small shrine to Trelar at the opposite side of the room. In the center of the room was a large sarcophagus, covered in images of knights and armor.
Within the room itself were close to fifty skeletal warriors circling the sarcophagus. In fact, it was apparent that this had been going on for some time since there was a circular groove worn into the stone floor. The only thing that appeared to keep the skeletons at bay was a man in tarnished armor and tattered robes that passed back and forth on the top of the sarcophagus, swinging his sword about in the air. Yet, the glowing orange eyes shining out from underneath his hood hinted that he was now undead as well.
“Loasaur, I presume,” addressed Azerot as he moved forward with his morningstar readied.
The guardian of the sarcophagus nodded his head in the direction of the cleric but did not pause in his pacing. Azerot signaled back to group to attack, and they were more than happy to rid this place of these remaining undead. Rayna started the attack by torching one of the skeletons. The horde of undead broke their circle and began to charge the Defenders.
Azerot greatly slowed their charge however by casting a wall of fire. Twizle fired his crossbow at the skeletons (with little success), while Cinder set himself to engage in melee as the undead approached. Daz, who was at the back of the party acted like he was going to move up to join Cinder’s flank. Yet, he suddenly changed directions, ran around the corner, and slashed the shadow beast across the face with his rapier.
The attack was masterfully executed as Daz caught the monster totally by surprise, but it wasn’t enough to take the shadow beast down. After the strike Daz leapt back, with far less grace than his attack. He hadn’t planned on the creature surviving such a well-placed rapier slice, and quickly scrambled to hide behind Rayna. Now frightfully afraid that he had just jeopardized his own life, he attempted to pass the blame. While pointing to Rayna, whom he was currently using as a human body shield, he yelled, “The witch, she made me do it! It was the witch!”
At the other end of the hallway Azerot, Cinder and Twizle were now holding the line against the skeletons that had charged through Azerot’s wall of fire. They found that these skeletons were far sturdier than those that they had encountered in the past, but the heroes were faring well. That was until they had involved the shadow beast in the fray.
With a muffled roar, the furry black cat-like creature leapt forward out of the dark alcove. It wasn’t phased by Rayna’s presence as it jumped over her and pounced on Daz. The first claw hit, then the second, then the third. Daz was bouncing around like a scarecrow in a windstorm, until the fourth claw connected. The loudmouthed elf crumpled to the ground before the beast finished his compliment of attacks. Instead of finishing Daz, the shadow beast took the time to glare at the rest of the Defenders. It was showing the party who was really in control of the situation.
As soon as the words could come out of her mouth, Rayna cried, “Back of you monster, we need him to help us get the Eye of Zorm!”
Rayna’s last three words snapped the beast out of its frenzy and it retreated to the dark alcove. It wanted to teach them a lesson for their defiance, but it couldn’t risk its only chance to retrieve the Eye of Zorm, especially when they were so close. Once the area was unthreatened, Rayna leaned down to heal Daz while the others continued the battle against the relentless undead.
After Daz’s eyes opened, signifying that he was going to live, Rayna smacked him across the face. “I’m a witch am I?” She huffed.
Before Daz could respond however, Azerot turned around amidst the smoke surrounded by a pile of twitching and smoldering skeletal parts. He wiped the sweat from his brow and panted, “That it’s, that’s all of them…except for the Trelarian guardian on top of the sarcophagus. We can try to talk to him once the wall of fire goes down.”
Before Azerot had time to catch his breath however, Daz jumped up, grabbed his rapier out of a pool of his own blood and lunged once again at the shadow beast while the rest of the team stared at him with amazement. Daz truly was crazy!
Only a few steps around the corner from the shadow beast, was a horrid sight. A pile of undead laid clawing and scratching at the massive stone door that marked the final resting place of Mendegon the Devout. Arms and legs protruded from the door jam, indicating that these undead have been here since the tomb was sealed. Hundreds of years later, they remained, clawing at the base of the door, most of which had scratched their claws into nubs.
Azerot looked to Kabod yet again to expedite the quest as he called forth a small floating sphere of fire, and moved it directly into the pile of undead. After the fire died, the smoke and stench started to fill the corridor. The heroes were a little unsure that it was a cleaner way to defeat the near-helpless undead, but it was too late now.
Now that the mess of undead was nothing more than some smoldering embers, Daz moved up to the door to get a better perspective. As he approached, the door began to glow with a translucent blue light. In the background Rayna was insisting that Daz not touch the door, that she had the key of Annadielle Trueheart. Yet Daz was his own man, no woman would tell him what to do. The elven rogue took out his lockpicks and touched them to the lock. As he did, a large bolt of blue light shot out of the door and directly into Daz’s chest.
After Daz and been blown clear of the door, Rayna approached to use the key. Without any problems, the door opened to reveal a large stone room. The room itself was decorated, but not to excess, with the most flamboyant part being a small shrine to Trelar at the opposite side of the room. In the center of the room was a large sarcophagus, covered in images of knights and armor.
Within the room itself were close to fifty skeletal warriors circling the sarcophagus. In fact, it was apparent that this had been going on for some time since there was a circular groove worn into the stone floor. The only thing that appeared to keep the skeletons at bay was a man in tarnished armor and tattered robes that passed back and forth on the top of the sarcophagus, swinging his sword about in the air. Yet, the glowing orange eyes shining out from underneath his hood hinted that he was now undead as well.
“Loasaur, I presume,” addressed Azerot as he moved forward with his morningstar readied.
The guardian of the sarcophagus nodded his head in the direction of the cleric but did not pause in his pacing. Azerot signaled back to group to attack, and they were more than happy to rid this place of these remaining undead. Rayna started the attack by torching one of the skeletons. The horde of undead broke their circle and began to charge the Defenders.
Azerot greatly slowed their charge however by casting a wall of fire. Twizle fired his crossbow at the skeletons (with little success), while Cinder set himself to engage in melee as the undead approached. Daz, who was at the back of the party acted like he was going to move up to join Cinder’s flank. Yet, he suddenly changed directions, ran around the corner, and slashed the shadow beast across the face with his rapier.
The attack was masterfully executed as Daz caught the monster totally by surprise, but it wasn’t enough to take the shadow beast down. After the strike Daz leapt back, with far less grace than his attack. He hadn’t planned on the creature surviving such a well-placed rapier slice, and quickly scrambled to hide behind Rayna. Now frightfully afraid that he had just jeopardized his own life, he attempted to pass the blame. While pointing to Rayna, whom he was currently using as a human body shield, he yelled, “The witch, she made me do it! It was the witch!”
At the other end of the hallway Azerot, Cinder and Twizle were now holding the line against the skeletons that had charged through Azerot’s wall of fire. They found that these skeletons were far sturdier than those that they had encountered in the past, but the heroes were faring well. That was until they had involved the shadow beast in the fray.
With a muffled roar, the furry black cat-like creature leapt forward out of the dark alcove. It wasn’t phased by Rayna’s presence as it jumped over her and pounced on Daz. The first claw hit, then the second, then the third. Daz was bouncing around like a scarecrow in a windstorm, until the fourth claw connected. The loudmouthed elf crumpled to the ground before the beast finished his compliment of attacks. Instead of finishing Daz, the shadow beast took the time to glare at the rest of the Defenders. It was showing the party who was really in control of the situation.
As soon as the words could come out of her mouth, Rayna cried, “Back of you monster, we need him to help us get the Eye of Zorm!”
Rayna’s last three words snapped the beast out of its frenzy and it retreated to the dark alcove. It wanted to teach them a lesson for their defiance, but it couldn’t risk its only chance to retrieve the Eye of Zorm, especially when they were so close. Once the area was unthreatened, Rayna leaned down to heal Daz while the others continued the battle against the relentless undead.
After Daz’s eyes opened, signifying that he was going to live, Rayna smacked him across the face. “I’m a witch am I?” She huffed.
Before Daz could respond however, Azerot turned around amidst the smoke surrounded by a pile of twitching and smoldering skeletal parts. He wiped the sweat from his brow and panted, “That it’s, that’s all of them…except for the Trelarian guardian on top of the sarcophagus. We can try to talk to him once the wall of fire goes down.”
Before Azerot had time to catch his breath however, Daz jumped up, grabbed his rapier out of a pool of his own blood and lunged once again at the shadow beast while the rest of the team stared at him with amazement. Daz truly was crazy!
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The Defenders of Tronus – Accepting Mendegon’s Fate:
Daz lunged at the beast with another powerful strike, and now that the battle with the skeletons was over, the others were now less reluctant to help. Cinder moved up to flank the cat-like monster while Twizle shot at it from a safe distance. Meanwhile, Azerot and Rayna pelted it with spells until the creature finally fell to one of Rayna’s signature scorching rays.
Daz continued to stab the shadow beast as it slumped to the ground. He was very intent on making sure that the thing was dead. Yet Rayna voiced a different opinion as she began to pull forth unguent of timelessness, “Don’t destroy the body, I want to save it for my shop.”
After they had preserved the body, they reassembled their belongings, made sure that they were all fully healed, and passed a few disapproving looks Daz’s way. He merely smiled and said, “See, I knew that beast wasn’t a threat.”
Rayna returned, “It practically killed you. You’re lucky that it needed us to get the Eye of Zorm.”
Daz just ignored Rayna and started heading into the room containing Mendegon’s sarcophagus. The others followed closely behind, more afraid of the trouble that Daz might cause than the single remaining undead guardian.
“If I’m not mistaken, then you are Loasaur, Mendegon’s friend and Guardian,” voiced Azerot in a firm and unshaken tone.
“I am Loasaur, granted life beyond death to serve out my duty.”
Azerot continued, “I’m afraid that we have come to claim the artifact that you guard. If we are not able to return it to the city of Tronus, over three thousand people will die. Now we don’t plan to give the Eye of Zorm to the villain who has threatened the lives of these citizens, but we need it as a bargaining piece.”
Loasaur stopped pacing the lid of Mendegon’s tomb and stared at the party with glowing orange eyes. “I understand why you have come, but you have your duty and I have mine. As long as we do not deny our honor, then neither of us shall loose, despite the outcome.”
“Hey Loasaur,” interjected Daz. “If you’re so honorable, then you won’t mind if we rest for a bit first. That way it will be a fair fight and all.”
Rayna sneered up her nose while Daz spoke, and Twizle shook his head in disbelief. Yet, Loasaur responded, “You may rest in the cleric’s chambers, a safe and protected room. If you pull on the second candleholder on the shrine, it will open the secret door.”
All of the team bowed before Loasaur, except for Daz, as they retreated into the lavish chamber. Once inside they shut the door and looked around. There were many tapestries and ornate objects. There was a suit of crimson armor that particularly caught Azerot’s eye, but he dismissed the thought of taking the belongings of another honorable being. Daz however, had no reservations about stuffing as much “loot” as he could into his backpacks. Mumbling the whole time about how upset he would be if there were a curse on any of the stuff and occasionally complaining about not keeping the gold and silver polished. Twizle followed the elf around the room, noting what he took, in case it became an issue in the future.
Daz was convinced that no watches were needed since they had an undead guardian of Trelar right outside the door, but the others were less convinced. It wasn’t until Azerot’s watch however, did anything interesting happen. As the cleric made sure that Daz was sound asleep, he quietly cast silence upon the elven rogue, and slipped out of the room.
Loasaur continued to pace the length of the coffin as Azerot approached. Then when Azerot was only a few feet away, the guardian stopped and readied his sword. “You come to fight me alone?” question Loasaur.
“No, I’ve come to negotiate,” responded Azerot.
Loasaur was sympathetic, but he again explained his stance, “I cannot negotiate this matter, I must follow the will of Trelar.”
Azerot shook his head, “I know.”
He turned from the coffin and approached the shrine of Trelar. He pulled out his holy symbol of Kabod and kneeled before the altar. “I, Azerot, faithful servant of Kabod, ask you, Trelar the great protector, to allow me to be the guardian of the Eye of Zorm. I will do everything in my power to keep this artifact out of the hands of evil, but we need it now to save the citizens of Tronus. Kabod can vouch for my honor, and if I am unable to I will return to take Mendegon’s place.”
Azerot continued to kneel, for what seemed like an eternity. Yet nothing happened. The ground didn’t shake; there was no sign from Kabod or Trelar and no voices in his head. Apparently he would have to battle Loasaur for the rights to the artifact. Thinking that his watch would be over soon, and he now needed the rest, Azerot turned and stood.
As Azerot pulled on the second candleholder to open the door to the chamber where the Defenders were staying, Loasaur spoke, “I will move Mendegon to another coffin and the Eye of Zorm will be released to you at dawn. When you feel that you can no longer contain the evil, return here and this can be your resting place. Yet, if you do not return, I will find you myself.”
Azerot, surprised by the outcome of his prayer, but somber over the thought of suffering the same fate of Mendegon, asked, “What if I destroy the Eye before then?”
Loasaur’s eyes flickered, “If you destroy the Eye, then my duty will be complete, I will be free.”
Daz lunged at the beast with another powerful strike, and now that the battle with the skeletons was over, the others were now less reluctant to help. Cinder moved up to flank the cat-like monster while Twizle shot at it from a safe distance. Meanwhile, Azerot and Rayna pelted it with spells until the creature finally fell to one of Rayna’s signature scorching rays.
Daz continued to stab the shadow beast as it slumped to the ground. He was very intent on making sure that the thing was dead. Yet Rayna voiced a different opinion as she began to pull forth unguent of timelessness, “Don’t destroy the body, I want to save it for my shop.”
After they had preserved the body, they reassembled their belongings, made sure that they were all fully healed, and passed a few disapproving looks Daz’s way. He merely smiled and said, “See, I knew that beast wasn’t a threat.”
Rayna returned, “It practically killed you. You’re lucky that it needed us to get the Eye of Zorm.”
Daz just ignored Rayna and started heading into the room containing Mendegon’s sarcophagus. The others followed closely behind, more afraid of the trouble that Daz might cause than the single remaining undead guardian.
“If I’m not mistaken, then you are Loasaur, Mendegon’s friend and Guardian,” voiced Azerot in a firm and unshaken tone.
“I am Loasaur, granted life beyond death to serve out my duty.”
Azerot continued, “I’m afraid that we have come to claim the artifact that you guard. If we are not able to return it to the city of Tronus, over three thousand people will die. Now we don’t plan to give the Eye of Zorm to the villain who has threatened the lives of these citizens, but we need it as a bargaining piece.”
Loasaur stopped pacing the lid of Mendegon’s tomb and stared at the party with glowing orange eyes. “I understand why you have come, but you have your duty and I have mine. As long as we do not deny our honor, then neither of us shall loose, despite the outcome.”
“Hey Loasaur,” interjected Daz. “If you’re so honorable, then you won’t mind if we rest for a bit first. That way it will be a fair fight and all.”
Rayna sneered up her nose while Daz spoke, and Twizle shook his head in disbelief. Yet, Loasaur responded, “You may rest in the cleric’s chambers, a safe and protected room. If you pull on the second candleholder on the shrine, it will open the secret door.”
All of the team bowed before Loasaur, except for Daz, as they retreated into the lavish chamber. Once inside they shut the door and looked around. There were many tapestries and ornate objects. There was a suit of crimson armor that particularly caught Azerot’s eye, but he dismissed the thought of taking the belongings of another honorable being. Daz however, had no reservations about stuffing as much “loot” as he could into his backpacks. Mumbling the whole time about how upset he would be if there were a curse on any of the stuff and occasionally complaining about not keeping the gold and silver polished. Twizle followed the elf around the room, noting what he took, in case it became an issue in the future.
Daz was convinced that no watches were needed since they had an undead guardian of Trelar right outside the door, but the others were less convinced. It wasn’t until Azerot’s watch however, did anything interesting happen. As the cleric made sure that Daz was sound asleep, he quietly cast silence upon the elven rogue, and slipped out of the room.
Loasaur continued to pace the length of the coffin as Azerot approached. Then when Azerot was only a few feet away, the guardian stopped and readied his sword. “You come to fight me alone?” question Loasaur.
“No, I’ve come to negotiate,” responded Azerot.
Loasaur was sympathetic, but he again explained his stance, “I cannot negotiate this matter, I must follow the will of Trelar.”
Azerot shook his head, “I know.”
He turned from the coffin and approached the shrine of Trelar. He pulled out his holy symbol of Kabod and kneeled before the altar. “I, Azerot, faithful servant of Kabod, ask you, Trelar the great protector, to allow me to be the guardian of the Eye of Zorm. I will do everything in my power to keep this artifact out of the hands of evil, but we need it now to save the citizens of Tronus. Kabod can vouch for my honor, and if I am unable to I will return to take Mendegon’s place.”
Azerot continued to kneel, for what seemed like an eternity. Yet nothing happened. The ground didn’t shake; there was no sign from Kabod or Trelar and no voices in his head. Apparently he would have to battle Loasaur for the rights to the artifact. Thinking that his watch would be over soon, and he now needed the rest, Azerot turned and stood.
As Azerot pulled on the second candleholder to open the door to the chamber where the Defenders were staying, Loasaur spoke, “I will move Mendegon to another coffin and the Eye of Zorm will be released to you at dawn. When you feel that you can no longer contain the evil, return here and this can be your resting place. Yet, if you do not return, I will find you myself.”
Azerot, surprised by the outcome of his prayer, but somber over the thought of suffering the same fate of Mendegon, asked, “What if I destroy the Eye before then?”
Loasaur’s eyes flickered, “If you destroy the Eye, then my duty will be complete, I will be free.”
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