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The Doomed Bastards: Reckoning (story complete)
- Thread starter Lazybones
- Start date
Lazybones
Adventurer
Thanks for all the positive posts, everyone. And thanks for delurking to post, Nightbreeze.
Verbatim, I'll try to remember to hit the Rogues' Gallery thread this weekend. I have a file with their level-ups and other notes that's a bit of a mess, but I'll see what I can extract from it.
* * * * *
Chapter 61
RECOVERY
The next eight hours passed with interminable slowness. Dar and Talen, keeping watch for another attack, took alternating shifts patrolling the perimeter of the room and standing in vigil atop the lava platform. There were two doors into the place, the large stone double doors they’d arrived through, and a smaller door that opened onto a narrow staircase descending to another level. After the last attack, they fortified the place somewhat, shutting the stone doors and piling the bodies of the dead clerics to form a barricade in front of them. They likewise worked to seal the other door, using some iron climbing spikes from Talen’s pack, and a few of the spiked morningstars from the slain senior clerics. Talen would not touch the latter weapons, as he reported feeling a terrible feeling spead through his gut when he so much as brushed the hilt of one. But they were very durable, and Dar found that by hammering a few into the jam of the door using his club, they made very effective doorstops.
Those defensive measures didn’t make them feel all that much more secure. Both fighters had seen the demon vanish in front of them, and they knew that the thing could most likely reappear with equal suddenness. Furthermore, the temple was infused with a palpable aura of evil that affected both of them, putting them on edge, and filling their idle moments with dark thoughts of death and destruction.
But no further foes threatened them, and by the end of the first hour, they’d relaxed their guard enough for the two warriors to start resting in shifts. It was more a matter of necessity, as both men could barely stand upright, let alone maintain an alert vigilance. By the end of the eight hours, both looked almost as badly off as the dead bodies heaped before the main exit doors.
But their vigilance paid off. Allera stirred back to consciousness even before Varo regained his spells and could treat her. With both of them regaining their strength and their spells, they turned their magic to the battered fighters, healing their wounds, and easing their exhaustion through the use of restorative magic. Allera also created fresh food and water for them, which went a long way to making them feel human once more.
Even Allera’s magic could do nothing for Varo’s ruined eye. The cleric rigged a crude patch for it, more to spare the others having to stare at the empty socket, than for his own needs. The skin surrounding the grievous wound had grown back, but it was a new pink, and clearly distinguishable from the weathered hide covering the rest of his head. It was a clear marker of how close they had all come to destruction.
The mad elf remained an enigma. Allera treated his physical wounds, but he remained in a nearly catatonic state. He ate food and drank water when it was put into his mouth, but did not otherwise respond to their prodding. Varo had taken a strange interest in the creature, and remained by his side while the others debated what to do next.
“Can we get out of this damned place, now?” Dar asked.
“Where can we go?” Talen asked. “Those clerics came from somewhere, yet we didn’t find any corridors that led off from the wight room. The only other apparent way open to us is down.”
“We’re already too far under the freaking ground,” Dar said. The fighter was going through a small pile of loot he’d collected from the place. The prizes of the collection was a pair of huge fire opals, each the size of a clenched fist, he’d prised from eye sockets of the goat-being statue, and another gem, an only slightly smaller brilliant-cut green stone, he’d found on the body of one of the clerics. The green gem glowed with a soft inner light, so faint that you had to really look to see it. Dar hadn’t needed Varo’s spells to tell him it was magical, and obviously valuable. All three gems went into the mercenary’s pack. The battered leather of the pack had taken quite a beating, and it seemed to be kept together by habit as much as anything else. While the others talked, he took an extra cultist robe, and fashioned a pair of sacks out of it, repackaging his considerable stash of loot before dropping it all back into the pack.
Both fighters had taken clothes and armor from the dead men, replacing their ragged and filthy garb with fresher gear. Dar had kept his black robe as well, buckling his swordbelt and backpack tightly over it to keep the garment from snagging on his weapons. He’d recovered another of the garments for Talen, but the captain had taken one look at the blood-colored sigil on the fabric before refusing.
“I am surprised that we have not been attacked again,” Talen said. “Have we broken the power of the cult of Orcus?”
“It would not be wise to assume such,” Varo said, coming over toward them. “The taint of that unholy body runs deeper, much deeper, into this place. We have seen but a tiny portion of Rappan Athuk in our travels; far more terrible horrors lie beneath us.”
“You seem to know a great deal about this place,” Talen said.
“Yeah, but don’t expect him to share any of it with ignorant grunts like ourselves,” Dar said. “What aren’t you telling us this time, priest?”
The cleric’s cool exterior was not disturbed by the fighter’s accusation. “I have no secrets to share with you. As I have told you before, I know only the legends of my order. Like you, I am learning as I go, and trying to survive. I only know that this shrine—and others like it—fuel the potency of the dread entity that controls this place.”
“Others?” Allera asked. “How many others?”
“I do not know,” Varo said. “But I can feel the malevolence of this place. It senses our intrusion here, and hates us for it. Can you not feel it, healer?”
Allera only shivered and turned away.
“All the more reason to get the hell out of here,” Dar said.
“Agreed,” Varo said. “But I ask you indulgence, for just a few more minutes. I cannot destroy the evil that dwells here... but perhaps I can weaken it.” He turned and walked over to the grim statue that dominated the back of the room. He knelt before it, and took his divine focus off from where it dangled from his neck.
“Now what’s he doing?” Dar asked. Curious, the three of them rose and walked over to him.
The cleric was chanting in an unfamiliar language, slowly lifting his arms, holding the golden sigil between them on its leather throng. His three companions could not understand his words, but one of them... Dagos they did recognize, two syllables that pounded into their consciousness like the beating of a drum.
Varo took up his sigil and lifted it high in one hand. With the other, he took out a flask—one of several from the ogre loot—and starting spraying its contents upon the statue. The droplets of holy water sizzled like acid as they splashed on the smooth black stone, leaving a bright sheen upon its surface.
Without ceasing his chant, Varo reached into his pouch and drew out a fistful of something. He threw the material upon the statue and the surrounding ground as well; fine shavings of silver, painstakingly hacked from a larger object. Blood glistened from some of the tiny slivers, from where the sharp ends had pierced the cleric’s flesh. Ignoring the blood covering his hand, Varo continued his chant, which began to accelerate into a rising crescendo.
“This... this is not right,” Talen said. He hesitated, clearly wanting to withdraw, but torn between wanting to intervene to stop the cleric from what he was doing. Allera stood beside him, her eyes wide.
And then, abruptly, Varo stopped. He lowered his hands, and sagged forward.
“What did you do?” Dar asked.
“I invoked the power of Dagos to weaken the connection of Orcus to this place,” the cleric explained. “It is not complete; this place will have to be hallowed by a holy priest to fully destroy it. But it will certainly not please the Lord of the Undead.”
“As if we didn’t have enough problems,” Dar said.
“Let’s get moving,” Talen said.
“Where?” Dar asked.
“Other than Max, we’ve left nothing but enemies behind us,” Talen said. “That leaves only one way to go; forward.”
“Down the stairs, you mean,” Dar said. “The last time we went deeper into the dungeon, Tiros paid for that mistake with his life.”
Talen spun on Dar, his frustration betrayed on his face. “Do you have another alternative, mercenary? Perhaps we crawl back and take our chances with the spiders, and the wererats? Or maybe we can find another rat tunnel to crawl into, and hope we don’t crawl into another ambush? Or perhaps you’d prefer to search until we find out where those clerics came from, and maybe find the rest of them?”
“What about the elf?” Allera said. “He is no longer in danger of dying, but his mind... it is far from here.”
“Put him out of his...” Dar began, but Varo interjected, “No. He has to come with us.”
Dar looked angrily at the cleric, then aside at Allera. He slashed down his hand. “Do whatever in the hells you want, then, but he’s your problem. I’m sure as heck not going to carry him.” Turning away, the fighter stalked across the room toward the far door, where he started wrenching out the wedges he’d bashed into the jam earlier.
“I’ll help you with him,” Allera said to Varo. “Maybe we can put together a litter.”
Talen lingered, looking up at the statue again. Without its gemstone eyes, it looked somehow even more malevolent, staring down at him from the cavernous black holes deep within its skull.
The captain felt lost, surrounded by a flow of events that he could neither control nor manage. Thus far, he’d stayed alive, but those around him had fallen, one by one. Of those he’d brought with him into this place, only Allera remained, and she had just come within a hair’s breadth of dying.
“Talen, are you all right?”
He turned to see the healer standing beside him. Behind her, Varo was wrapping a blanket around the shafts of Allera’s spear and Aelos’s staff. Allera’s eyes were full of empathy as she laid her hand on his arm.
He could take almost anything, but that simple gesture of understanding almost undid him. He felt a wall of unbridled emotion surge within him, and only barely managed to keep it under control.
“I’m fine,” he lied, and turned to follow Dar.
A minute later, the five of them—including the comatose elf—had gathered before the far door. Dar had removed the obstructions, and as he pulled the door open, their light shone upon a dark set of weathered stone steps. A smell of old graves drifted up from below.
They started down.
The staircase descended deep through the surrounding rock. In the narrow space, their footfalls sounded overly loud on the smooth stone. The light from the end of Aelos’s staff, now part of the stretcher that Allera and Varo were using to carry the unconscious elf, played over their faces from below, casting dark hollows around their eyes. Talen, behind Dar in the lead, had his magical sword out, its light shining ahead of them, stretching the mercenary’s shadow out ahead of them down the stairs.
After several minutes of trudging down stairs, their light indicated an open space below. They emerged into a large chamber of worked stone, with a high ceiling supported by squat stone buttresses some twenty feet above. They could see what looked like large stone biers ahead of them to the left and right, forming orderly rows that appeared to extend across the room, at least as far as they could see.
“Tombs,” Talen said, shining the light of his sword to the left and to the right.
A noise broken the silence; a sound of stone scraping on stone.
“There!” Allera shouted, pointing. Talen brought the glowing sword around; they could see one of the stone lids sliding open; as they watched a pale claw reached out and grabbed the edge, shoving it hard out of the way. The sound was echoed all around the chamber, from the darkness beyond the edge of their lights.
“Gods, I hate it when I’m right,” Dar muttered, lifting his club.
Verbatim, I'll try to remember to hit the Rogues' Gallery thread this weekend. I have a file with their level-ups and other notes that's a bit of a mess, but I'll see what I can extract from it.
* * * * *
Chapter 61
RECOVERY
The next eight hours passed with interminable slowness. Dar and Talen, keeping watch for another attack, took alternating shifts patrolling the perimeter of the room and standing in vigil atop the lava platform. There were two doors into the place, the large stone double doors they’d arrived through, and a smaller door that opened onto a narrow staircase descending to another level. After the last attack, they fortified the place somewhat, shutting the stone doors and piling the bodies of the dead clerics to form a barricade in front of them. They likewise worked to seal the other door, using some iron climbing spikes from Talen’s pack, and a few of the spiked morningstars from the slain senior clerics. Talen would not touch the latter weapons, as he reported feeling a terrible feeling spead through his gut when he so much as brushed the hilt of one. But they were very durable, and Dar found that by hammering a few into the jam of the door using his club, they made very effective doorstops.
Those defensive measures didn’t make them feel all that much more secure. Both fighters had seen the demon vanish in front of them, and they knew that the thing could most likely reappear with equal suddenness. Furthermore, the temple was infused with a palpable aura of evil that affected both of them, putting them on edge, and filling their idle moments with dark thoughts of death and destruction.
But no further foes threatened them, and by the end of the first hour, they’d relaxed their guard enough for the two warriors to start resting in shifts. It was more a matter of necessity, as both men could barely stand upright, let alone maintain an alert vigilance. By the end of the eight hours, both looked almost as badly off as the dead bodies heaped before the main exit doors.
But their vigilance paid off. Allera stirred back to consciousness even before Varo regained his spells and could treat her. With both of them regaining their strength and their spells, they turned their magic to the battered fighters, healing their wounds, and easing their exhaustion through the use of restorative magic. Allera also created fresh food and water for them, which went a long way to making them feel human once more.
Even Allera’s magic could do nothing for Varo’s ruined eye. The cleric rigged a crude patch for it, more to spare the others having to stare at the empty socket, than for his own needs. The skin surrounding the grievous wound had grown back, but it was a new pink, and clearly distinguishable from the weathered hide covering the rest of his head. It was a clear marker of how close they had all come to destruction.
The mad elf remained an enigma. Allera treated his physical wounds, but he remained in a nearly catatonic state. He ate food and drank water when it was put into his mouth, but did not otherwise respond to their prodding. Varo had taken a strange interest in the creature, and remained by his side while the others debated what to do next.
“Can we get out of this damned place, now?” Dar asked.
“Where can we go?” Talen asked. “Those clerics came from somewhere, yet we didn’t find any corridors that led off from the wight room. The only other apparent way open to us is down.”
“We’re already too far under the freaking ground,” Dar said. The fighter was going through a small pile of loot he’d collected from the place. The prizes of the collection was a pair of huge fire opals, each the size of a clenched fist, he’d prised from eye sockets of the goat-being statue, and another gem, an only slightly smaller brilliant-cut green stone, he’d found on the body of one of the clerics. The green gem glowed with a soft inner light, so faint that you had to really look to see it. Dar hadn’t needed Varo’s spells to tell him it was magical, and obviously valuable. All three gems went into the mercenary’s pack. The battered leather of the pack had taken quite a beating, and it seemed to be kept together by habit as much as anything else. While the others talked, he took an extra cultist robe, and fashioned a pair of sacks out of it, repackaging his considerable stash of loot before dropping it all back into the pack.
Both fighters had taken clothes and armor from the dead men, replacing their ragged and filthy garb with fresher gear. Dar had kept his black robe as well, buckling his swordbelt and backpack tightly over it to keep the garment from snagging on his weapons. He’d recovered another of the garments for Talen, but the captain had taken one look at the blood-colored sigil on the fabric before refusing.
“I am surprised that we have not been attacked again,” Talen said. “Have we broken the power of the cult of Orcus?”
“It would not be wise to assume such,” Varo said, coming over toward them. “The taint of that unholy body runs deeper, much deeper, into this place. We have seen but a tiny portion of Rappan Athuk in our travels; far more terrible horrors lie beneath us.”
“You seem to know a great deal about this place,” Talen said.
“Yeah, but don’t expect him to share any of it with ignorant grunts like ourselves,” Dar said. “What aren’t you telling us this time, priest?”
The cleric’s cool exterior was not disturbed by the fighter’s accusation. “I have no secrets to share with you. As I have told you before, I know only the legends of my order. Like you, I am learning as I go, and trying to survive. I only know that this shrine—and others like it—fuel the potency of the dread entity that controls this place.”
“Others?” Allera asked. “How many others?”
“I do not know,” Varo said. “But I can feel the malevolence of this place. It senses our intrusion here, and hates us for it. Can you not feel it, healer?”
Allera only shivered and turned away.
“All the more reason to get the hell out of here,” Dar said.
“Agreed,” Varo said. “But I ask you indulgence, for just a few more minutes. I cannot destroy the evil that dwells here... but perhaps I can weaken it.” He turned and walked over to the grim statue that dominated the back of the room. He knelt before it, and took his divine focus off from where it dangled from his neck.
“Now what’s he doing?” Dar asked. Curious, the three of them rose and walked over to him.
The cleric was chanting in an unfamiliar language, slowly lifting his arms, holding the golden sigil between them on its leather throng. His three companions could not understand his words, but one of them... Dagos they did recognize, two syllables that pounded into their consciousness like the beating of a drum.
Varo took up his sigil and lifted it high in one hand. With the other, he took out a flask—one of several from the ogre loot—and starting spraying its contents upon the statue. The droplets of holy water sizzled like acid as they splashed on the smooth black stone, leaving a bright sheen upon its surface.
Without ceasing his chant, Varo reached into his pouch and drew out a fistful of something. He threw the material upon the statue and the surrounding ground as well; fine shavings of silver, painstakingly hacked from a larger object. Blood glistened from some of the tiny slivers, from where the sharp ends had pierced the cleric’s flesh. Ignoring the blood covering his hand, Varo continued his chant, which began to accelerate into a rising crescendo.
“This... this is not right,” Talen said. He hesitated, clearly wanting to withdraw, but torn between wanting to intervene to stop the cleric from what he was doing. Allera stood beside him, her eyes wide.
And then, abruptly, Varo stopped. He lowered his hands, and sagged forward.
“What did you do?” Dar asked.
“I invoked the power of Dagos to weaken the connection of Orcus to this place,” the cleric explained. “It is not complete; this place will have to be hallowed by a holy priest to fully destroy it. But it will certainly not please the Lord of the Undead.”
“As if we didn’t have enough problems,” Dar said.
“Let’s get moving,” Talen said.
“Where?” Dar asked.
“Other than Max, we’ve left nothing but enemies behind us,” Talen said. “That leaves only one way to go; forward.”
“Down the stairs, you mean,” Dar said. “The last time we went deeper into the dungeon, Tiros paid for that mistake with his life.”
Talen spun on Dar, his frustration betrayed on his face. “Do you have another alternative, mercenary? Perhaps we crawl back and take our chances with the spiders, and the wererats? Or maybe we can find another rat tunnel to crawl into, and hope we don’t crawl into another ambush? Or perhaps you’d prefer to search until we find out where those clerics came from, and maybe find the rest of them?”
“What about the elf?” Allera said. “He is no longer in danger of dying, but his mind... it is far from here.”
“Put him out of his...” Dar began, but Varo interjected, “No. He has to come with us.”
Dar looked angrily at the cleric, then aside at Allera. He slashed down his hand. “Do whatever in the hells you want, then, but he’s your problem. I’m sure as heck not going to carry him.” Turning away, the fighter stalked across the room toward the far door, where he started wrenching out the wedges he’d bashed into the jam earlier.
“I’ll help you with him,” Allera said to Varo. “Maybe we can put together a litter.”
Talen lingered, looking up at the statue again. Without its gemstone eyes, it looked somehow even more malevolent, staring down at him from the cavernous black holes deep within its skull.
The captain felt lost, surrounded by a flow of events that he could neither control nor manage. Thus far, he’d stayed alive, but those around him had fallen, one by one. Of those he’d brought with him into this place, only Allera remained, and she had just come within a hair’s breadth of dying.
“Talen, are you all right?”
He turned to see the healer standing beside him. Behind her, Varo was wrapping a blanket around the shafts of Allera’s spear and Aelos’s staff. Allera’s eyes were full of empathy as she laid her hand on his arm.
He could take almost anything, but that simple gesture of understanding almost undid him. He felt a wall of unbridled emotion surge within him, and only barely managed to keep it under control.
“I’m fine,” he lied, and turned to follow Dar.
A minute later, the five of them—including the comatose elf—had gathered before the far door. Dar had removed the obstructions, and as he pulled the door open, their light shone upon a dark set of weathered stone steps. A smell of old graves drifted up from below.
They started down.
The staircase descended deep through the surrounding rock. In the narrow space, their footfalls sounded overly loud on the smooth stone. The light from the end of Aelos’s staff, now part of the stretcher that Allera and Varo were using to carry the unconscious elf, played over their faces from below, casting dark hollows around their eyes. Talen, behind Dar in the lead, had his magical sword out, its light shining ahead of them, stretching the mercenary’s shadow out ahead of them down the stairs.
After several minutes of trudging down stairs, their light indicated an open space below. They emerged into a large chamber of worked stone, with a high ceiling supported by squat stone buttresses some twenty feet above. They could see what looked like large stone biers ahead of them to the left and right, forming orderly rows that appeared to extend across the room, at least as far as they could see.
“Tombs,” Talen said, shining the light of his sword to the left and to the right.
A noise broken the silence; a sound of stone scraping on stone.
“There!” Allera shouted, pointing. Talen brought the glowing sword around; they could see one of the stone lids sliding open; as they watched a pale claw reached out and grabbed the edge, shoving it hard out of the way. The sound was echoed all around the chamber, from the darkness beyond the edge of their lights.
“Gods, I hate it when I’m right,” Dar muttered, lifting his club.
Last edited:
Richard Rawen
First Post
Lazybones said:
I actually raised an eyebrow at this heading, of course, you have to draw a breath...
for it to be your last
Lazybones said:
Heh, me too Dar, me too...
Lazybones
Adventurer
Chapter 62
THE WIGHT CATACOMBS
“Keep them at bay,” Varo said, calmly lowering the elf to the ground at the foot of the stairs, then taking up his divine focus.
“Yeah, right,” Dar said, facing the darkness to their right. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw that the crypt on the left had disgorged a familiar pale-skinned monstrosity—another wight. It fixed its glowing red eyes upon them, and sprang out of the tomb, landing lightly on its feet.
Turning back, Dar saw several other sets of eyes moments before more of the creatures appeared out of the shadows. They were approaching in a collapsing half-circle—a half-dozen thus far. At least the scraping noises had stopped. The creatures were eerily silent, their tread making no noise upon the rough stone floor.
“Varo...” Dar began.
“Just another few seconds,” the priest said, focusing his will through the focus of his god.
“Let them come to us,” Talen said. Behind him, Allera stood ready, her hands surrounded by a faint blue glow as her healing power swelled with her.
The creatures made no communication, but they all leapt forward in the same instant, charging toward the defenders with claws outstretched. Dar met the first with an overhead strike that smashed the wight heavily in the chest, knocking it to the ground. The undead monster flailed its limbs wildly, but managed to turn over and squirrel forward, clawing at Dar’s legs. The fighter was already too busy with a second creature to deal with it, holding the surging monster off with his club as it tried to dig its claws into his arms.
Talen met the others on the far flank, blocking their route to Allera and Varo. He sliced off the first claw that came sweeping at him, taking off the creature’s limb at the wrist with his sword. The wight barely paused, spinning and leaping for his throat with its other claw.
Distracted, Talen was left wide open to the fourth wight, which leapt eagerly at his exposed flank. Allera stepped forward to block it, and it eagerly turned upon her.
“Allera, no!” Talen yelled unable to help her without leaving him totally open to his opponent.
A wave of pulsing negative energy swept over them. Dar felt it as a faint tingle, while Allera and Talen felt a momentary twinge of nausea that twisted deep within their guts. But there was no time to reflect or recover; the wights were upon them.
The last two creatures surged in behind the one that was attacking Allera. The healer held her ground even as the lead creature drew its claws across her face, opening shallow gashes in her left cheek. She laid her hands upon it, sending a powerful surge of positive energy into it. The attack stunned the wight, but the other two were right on its heels, and things suddenly looked quite grim for the healer.
But then, to her surprise, the wights fell upon their injured companion, bearing it to the ground, and ripping its body open with their claws.
The sudden betrayal quickly changed the tide of the battle. Dar took down his second foe with a pair of solid blows that mangled its body, then followed through with a pounding smash that pulverized the head of the injured one hacking at his ankles. Talen, too, finished his foe, thrusting the length of his sword into its body, then kicking the fading creature off the blade.
Dar immediately turned to strike down the two creatures tearing their ally apart, but Varo restrained him with a raised hand. “Do not worry about those two,” he said. “They are under my command.”
Dar looked at him dubiously. “Say what?”
“This is the blackest necromancy,” Talen said, regarding the two creatures with revulsion as they stood up and stood silently watching them. The undead swayed slightly, but otherwise did not respond to being observed.
“So they’ll do whatever you want?” Dar asked. He walked up to the nearer of the two wights, and spat in its face. The wight did not respond.
“They will obey my commands, even unto their destruction,” Varo said.
“This is wrong, priest,” Talen said.
“Why? They are weapons, captain. Would you yield that tool to our enemy, and eschew its use on the basis of principle?”
Varo pointed to one of the creatures. “That thing does not live. It is a foul abomination. Yet it can absorb a sword thrust meant for you, or for Allera there. It can fight for us, and slay the enemies of our cause. It can stumble into a trap, and make the way ahead safer for us. You do not have to call it friend, captain. You do not have to enjoy its company. But it is utter foolishness to reject this gift that Dagos grants our cause.”
“Your words are slippery, priest,” Talen said. “You lead us down a path of shadow. I can see its end; at that point we become indistinguishable from the foes we fight.”
“The deed is done,” Varo said. “I will not undo it because you are squeamish.”
“Anything that is done can be undone,” Talen said. “What do you others think of this?”
“Hey, I’m all for having another body to take some hits, for a chance,” Dar said.
“I agree with Talen,” Allera said. “What if we encounter another cleric of Orcus, more powerful than you, Varo? Could he turn the undead against you?”
“Possibly,” Varo admitted. “Although we would have far greater problems, in such a circumstance.”
“It does not matter,” Talen said. “I am not going forward with such things in my company. Choose, priest. Go on with us, or with your new allies.”
“You are a fool,” Varo said. But he made a small gesture, and the two wights turned on each other, tearing with their claws.
The companions drew back at the ferocity of the attack. Within a few seconds, one of the creatures was down and unmoving, and the last could barely stand, deep gashes covering its body.
Dar finished the job, putting it down for good.
“Are you all right, Allera?” Talen asked.
The healer nodded, summoning a trickle of healing energy that closed the wounds as they spoke, leaving not even a scar behind. “I have been drained, slightly. If my spirit is not strong enough to recover on its own, I can draw upon my powers to restore what was lost. I will be fine, do not worry about me.”
“I would recommend keeping them from touching you in future engagements, if at all possible,” Varo said. “That may be more difficult without my aid, but if that is your choice...”
“Keep them at bay if you can, cleric, but I will not fight with them as allies,” Talen said.
Varo nodded. “Ah, thank you for the clarification, captain. Perhaps we should move on?”
Dar had already started checking out the nearest of the stone tombs. Most of them were empty, apparently—or at least had not produced any undead monsters to assail them. “What are you doing?” Allera asked him.
“Checking for loot,” he replied. “We’ve already found some good stuff among the dead in this place.”
“Have you not accumulated enough gold?” she asked.
“Angel, you can never have enough.”
“I would avoid the sealed tombs,” Talen said. “There may be more of those creatures in them.”
“I’m not an idiot,” Dar shot back. But he’d been standing beside an unopened tomb when Talen had spoken, and he grumbled as he moved to one of the empty ones that had produced a wight earlier. Other than some assorted trash of no value, and a few shattered bones, the crypts were empty.
They found a corridor on the other side of the room, and after finishing their search, continued in that direction. The passage continued for about forty feet before opening onto another room. This one was even larger than the previous chamber, with several ranks of crypts neatly aligned in perpendicular rows that formed a big “E”. The majority of these tombs had been opened, with the heavy stone cover slabs lying ajar on top, or shattered on the floor beside them. The place was thick with the stench of ancient decay, but nothing stirred to greet them as they entered.
“Stay together,” Talen said softly, even his quiet words sounding unnaturally loud in these sepulchral surroundings.
They moved into the room, shining their light sources into the corners. The room was over a hundred and fifty feet wide, and sixty deep. Their boots made soft echoes against the bare stone walls, no matter how quietly they tried to walk. They found a deep alcove to the right along the far wall, a slightly raised area upon which three intact tombs were situated. They gave that a wide berth, for now. They also found two doors, a set of ancient double doors bound in discolored bronze on the far side of the room to the left, and a single stone slab door in a corner to the right. They also probed a few deep crevices in the walls, but none of them appeared to go anywhere.
“Well, which way?” Dar asked, as they completed their circuit, and returned to the entry corridor.
Talen started to say something, but he was interrupted by the sound of grinding stone. The companions lifted their weapons at once and scanned the surrounding crypts, but they could see no motion from those that they could see.
“The door!” Varo hissed, pointing. They looked across the room to the south door, which had been pushed open. A soft glow of light came from behind the heavy portal.
The companions took cover behind the nearest crypts, shielding their lights. Peering over the stone tops of the crypts, they could see a huge humanoid figure stagger into the room.
The thing stood over eight feet tall. Its thick arms and torso bulged with muscle, but there was something... wrong with it as well; its skin was patched with different shades of color coming together in rude seams, and it moved as though it was partially paralyzed, its stride hitched and uneven. So unnerving it was that they almost didn’t notice the woman standing beside it. She was human by the look of her, young and with plain features set off by sandy brown hair that had been crudely hacked short. She wore a plain gray robe, and carried a short rod that glowed with a pale magical light.
The woman and her companion started around the perimeter of the room toward them.
“Wait till they get here, then strike?” Dar whispered to Talen.
“Shhh,” the warrior mouthed.
Varo tugged on Allera’s arm and pointed. They’d laid the elf down nearby; from his current position, his legs jutted out beyond the end of the crypt. If the pair passed by the corridor, they would almost certainly spot him.
The healer nodded, and the two crawled over to him. They grabbed onto the end of the litter, and started to pull him slowly over the floor.
The sound of the approaching pair grew louder. The tall creature’s awkward strides sounded loud upon the stone; from the thumping impacts, it must have weighed hundreds of pounds, at least.
The two were barely twenty feet away, now. Talen and Dar, bent low, moved around the crypt that gave them shelter.
The elf groaned.
The footsteps stopped at once. “Who’s there?” came the woman’s voice. She sounded scared, but after their travels in Rappan Athuk, none of them were going to assume that she was anything but a deadly threat.
None of them stirred. They could hear the woman’s voice again, chanting in the language of magic.
Suddenly Allera stood up, revealing herself. “We’re not enemies,” she began. Talen rose as well, but kept his empty hand up, away from his swordhilt. Allera continued, “We just want to...”
She was interrupted by the woman’s startled shriek. Gesturing to the huge creature beside her, she shouted, “Kill them!” As the creature lumbered forward, the woman spoke a word of magic, and disappeared.
THE WIGHT CATACOMBS
“Keep them at bay,” Varo said, calmly lowering the elf to the ground at the foot of the stairs, then taking up his divine focus.
“Yeah, right,” Dar said, facing the darkness to their right. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw that the crypt on the left had disgorged a familiar pale-skinned monstrosity—another wight. It fixed its glowing red eyes upon them, and sprang out of the tomb, landing lightly on its feet.
Turning back, Dar saw several other sets of eyes moments before more of the creatures appeared out of the shadows. They were approaching in a collapsing half-circle—a half-dozen thus far. At least the scraping noises had stopped. The creatures were eerily silent, their tread making no noise upon the rough stone floor.
“Varo...” Dar began.
“Just another few seconds,” the priest said, focusing his will through the focus of his god.
“Let them come to us,” Talen said. Behind him, Allera stood ready, her hands surrounded by a faint blue glow as her healing power swelled with her.
The creatures made no communication, but they all leapt forward in the same instant, charging toward the defenders with claws outstretched. Dar met the first with an overhead strike that smashed the wight heavily in the chest, knocking it to the ground. The undead monster flailed its limbs wildly, but managed to turn over and squirrel forward, clawing at Dar’s legs. The fighter was already too busy with a second creature to deal with it, holding the surging monster off with his club as it tried to dig its claws into his arms.
Talen met the others on the far flank, blocking their route to Allera and Varo. He sliced off the first claw that came sweeping at him, taking off the creature’s limb at the wrist with his sword. The wight barely paused, spinning and leaping for his throat with its other claw.
Distracted, Talen was left wide open to the fourth wight, which leapt eagerly at his exposed flank. Allera stepped forward to block it, and it eagerly turned upon her.
“Allera, no!” Talen yelled unable to help her without leaving him totally open to his opponent.
A wave of pulsing negative energy swept over them. Dar felt it as a faint tingle, while Allera and Talen felt a momentary twinge of nausea that twisted deep within their guts. But there was no time to reflect or recover; the wights were upon them.
The last two creatures surged in behind the one that was attacking Allera. The healer held her ground even as the lead creature drew its claws across her face, opening shallow gashes in her left cheek. She laid her hands upon it, sending a powerful surge of positive energy into it. The attack stunned the wight, but the other two were right on its heels, and things suddenly looked quite grim for the healer.
But then, to her surprise, the wights fell upon their injured companion, bearing it to the ground, and ripping its body open with their claws.
The sudden betrayal quickly changed the tide of the battle. Dar took down his second foe with a pair of solid blows that mangled its body, then followed through with a pounding smash that pulverized the head of the injured one hacking at his ankles. Talen, too, finished his foe, thrusting the length of his sword into its body, then kicking the fading creature off the blade.
Dar immediately turned to strike down the two creatures tearing their ally apart, but Varo restrained him with a raised hand. “Do not worry about those two,” he said. “They are under my command.”
Dar looked at him dubiously. “Say what?”
“This is the blackest necromancy,” Talen said, regarding the two creatures with revulsion as they stood up and stood silently watching them. The undead swayed slightly, but otherwise did not respond to being observed.
“So they’ll do whatever you want?” Dar asked. He walked up to the nearer of the two wights, and spat in its face. The wight did not respond.
“They will obey my commands, even unto their destruction,” Varo said.
“This is wrong, priest,” Talen said.
“Why? They are weapons, captain. Would you yield that tool to our enemy, and eschew its use on the basis of principle?”
Varo pointed to one of the creatures. “That thing does not live. It is a foul abomination. Yet it can absorb a sword thrust meant for you, or for Allera there. It can fight for us, and slay the enemies of our cause. It can stumble into a trap, and make the way ahead safer for us. You do not have to call it friend, captain. You do not have to enjoy its company. But it is utter foolishness to reject this gift that Dagos grants our cause.”
“Your words are slippery, priest,” Talen said. “You lead us down a path of shadow. I can see its end; at that point we become indistinguishable from the foes we fight.”
“The deed is done,” Varo said. “I will not undo it because you are squeamish.”
“Anything that is done can be undone,” Talen said. “What do you others think of this?”
“Hey, I’m all for having another body to take some hits, for a chance,” Dar said.
“I agree with Talen,” Allera said. “What if we encounter another cleric of Orcus, more powerful than you, Varo? Could he turn the undead against you?”
“Possibly,” Varo admitted. “Although we would have far greater problems, in such a circumstance.”
“It does not matter,” Talen said. “I am not going forward with such things in my company. Choose, priest. Go on with us, or with your new allies.”
“You are a fool,” Varo said. But he made a small gesture, and the two wights turned on each other, tearing with their claws.
The companions drew back at the ferocity of the attack. Within a few seconds, one of the creatures was down and unmoving, and the last could barely stand, deep gashes covering its body.
Dar finished the job, putting it down for good.
“Are you all right, Allera?” Talen asked.
The healer nodded, summoning a trickle of healing energy that closed the wounds as they spoke, leaving not even a scar behind. “I have been drained, slightly. If my spirit is not strong enough to recover on its own, I can draw upon my powers to restore what was lost. I will be fine, do not worry about me.”
“I would recommend keeping them from touching you in future engagements, if at all possible,” Varo said. “That may be more difficult without my aid, but if that is your choice...”
“Keep them at bay if you can, cleric, but I will not fight with them as allies,” Talen said.
Varo nodded. “Ah, thank you for the clarification, captain. Perhaps we should move on?”
Dar had already started checking out the nearest of the stone tombs. Most of them were empty, apparently—or at least had not produced any undead monsters to assail them. “What are you doing?” Allera asked him.
“Checking for loot,” he replied. “We’ve already found some good stuff among the dead in this place.”
“Have you not accumulated enough gold?” she asked.
“Angel, you can never have enough.”
“I would avoid the sealed tombs,” Talen said. “There may be more of those creatures in them.”
“I’m not an idiot,” Dar shot back. But he’d been standing beside an unopened tomb when Talen had spoken, and he grumbled as he moved to one of the empty ones that had produced a wight earlier. Other than some assorted trash of no value, and a few shattered bones, the crypts were empty.
They found a corridor on the other side of the room, and after finishing their search, continued in that direction. The passage continued for about forty feet before opening onto another room. This one was even larger than the previous chamber, with several ranks of crypts neatly aligned in perpendicular rows that formed a big “E”. The majority of these tombs had been opened, with the heavy stone cover slabs lying ajar on top, or shattered on the floor beside them. The place was thick with the stench of ancient decay, but nothing stirred to greet them as they entered.
“Stay together,” Talen said softly, even his quiet words sounding unnaturally loud in these sepulchral surroundings.
They moved into the room, shining their light sources into the corners. The room was over a hundred and fifty feet wide, and sixty deep. Their boots made soft echoes against the bare stone walls, no matter how quietly they tried to walk. They found a deep alcove to the right along the far wall, a slightly raised area upon which three intact tombs were situated. They gave that a wide berth, for now. They also found two doors, a set of ancient double doors bound in discolored bronze on the far side of the room to the left, and a single stone slab door in a corner to the right. They also probed a few deep crevices in the walls, but none of them appeared to go anywhere.
“Well, which way?” Dar asked, as they completed their circuit, and returned to the entry corridor.
Talen started to say something, but he was interrupted by the sound of grinding stone. The companions lifted their weapons at once and scanned the surrounding crypts, but they could see no motion from those that they could see.
“The door!” Varo hissed, pointing. They looked across the room to the south door, which had been pushed open. A soft glow of light came from behind the heavy portal.
The companions took cover behind the nearest crypts, shielding their lights. Peering over the stone tops of the crypts, they could see a huge humanoid figure stagger into the room.
The thing stood over eight feet tall. Its thick arms and torso bulged with muscle, but there was something... wrong with it as well; its skin was patched with different shades of color coming together in rude seams, and it moved as though it was partially paralyzed, its stride hitched and uneven. So unnerving it was that they almost didn’t notice the woman standing beside it. She was human by the look of her, young and with plain features set off by sandy brown hair that had been crudely hacked short. She wore a plain gray robe, and carried a short rod that glowed with a pale magical light.
The woman and her companion started around the perimeter of the room toward them.
“Wait till they get here, then strike?” Dar whispered to Talen.
“Shhh,” the warrior mouthed.
Varo tugged on Allera’s arm and pointed. They’d laid the elf down nearby; from his current position, his legs jutted out beyond the end of the crypt. If the pair passed by the corridor, they would almost certainly spot him.
The healer nodded, and the two crawled over to him. They grabbed onto the end of the litter, and started to pull him slowly over the floor.
The sound of the approaching pair grew louder. The tall creature’s awkward strides sounded loud upon the stone; from the thumping impacts, it must have weighed hundreds of pounds, at least.
The two were barely twenty feet away, now. Talen and Dar, bent low, moved around the crypt that gave them shelter.
The elf groaned.
The footsteps stopped at once. “Who’s there?” came the woman’s voice. She sounded scared, but after their travels in Rappan Athuk, none of them were going to assume that she was anything but a deadly threat.
None of them stirred. They could hear the woman’s voice again, chanting in the language of magic.
Suddenly Allera stood up, revealing herself. “We’re not enemies,” she began. Talen rose as well, but kept his empty hand up, away from his swordhilt. Allera continued, “We just want to...”
She was interrupted by the woman’s startled shriek. Gesturing to the huge creature beside her, she shouted, “Kill them!” As the creature lumbered forward, the woman spoke a word of magic, and disappeared.
Great stuff LB. Talk about a barrage though...these guys are worse than doomed, they're dead, they just don't know it yet.
I'm really digging the interplay between all of them though. Allera's cool under pressure and always giving. Talen's a bit of a prick but he's got his heart in the right place. Dar...he's just a force of nature. And Varo, he's my fav. Coldly calculating, evil, and logical. He sends chills down my spine. Oh yeah, and the mad elf? Who knows.
I'm really digging the interplay between all of them though. Allera's cool under pressure and always giving. Talen's a bit of a prick but he's got his heart in the right place. Dar...he's just a force of nature. And Varo, he's my fav. Coldly calculating, evil, and logical. He sends chills down my spine. Oh yeah, and the mad elf? Who knows.
Lazybones
Adventurer
Heh, great descriptions, jfaller!jfaller said:
* * * * *
Chapter 63
THE POUNDING
“I hate it when I’m right,” Dar said, coming around the crypt to flank the creature from behind. The monster headed straight toward Talen, who had moved forward to block its route to Allera and Varo.
Up close, they could see that it was a constructed being, a thing fashioned from the flesh of several creatures. Its eyes were dead orbs, but it seemed to have no difficulty sensing the presence of enemies before it.
The captain narrowly avoided a pulverizing overhead smash of the creature’s fist. The blow smashed into the corner of the adjacent crypt, shattering the stone and sending bits of debris flying. Talen looked down at the broken stone with surprise. The creature lifted its other fist to strike, but the fighter quickly recovered, slashing his sword across its torso.
The sword bit into its hide, but barely managed to gash it. There was no blood.
“Its skin is like leather!” he warned.
“I’ll take it down,” Dar said. He put his full weight and strength into the blow, smashing the club into the small of its back. The attack was the same that had taken down cultist after cultist in the temple above, and its force was utterly devastating.
The club hit the creature with a loud twack. Instead of toppling to the ground, it simply turned and fixed its empty stare on the fighter.
“Oh, cr—”
He never got a chance to finish, as the golem smashed its fist solidly into the fighter’s jaw. The critical hit sent Dar flying, spinning out of control into the nearby crypt. Spitting blood, he couldn’t do anything but take the punishment as it smashed him with its other fist, punching him in the back. Dar groaned as his internal organs were rearranged somewhat; gobs of blood exploded from his lips to splatter on the top of the crypt.
“It’s killing him!” Allera exclaimed.
“Don’t worry, he’s got a bit more fight in him, I suspect,” Varo said calmly. The cleric was focusing his concentration on something else; he muttered words of power under his breath, and began scanning the area. He nodded to himself as he faced the corridor, and started moving slowly in that direction.
“What, where are you going?” Allera asked. The cleric didn’t respond, and the healer began to move around the crypts, hurrying to get around the battle to aid the battered fighter.
Talen laid into the golem from behind, but while his blows were scoring its back, they weren’t inflicting much in the way of damage. The creature’s thick hide seemed to be considerably resistant to injury, and it clearly did not experience pain. Ignoring the captain, it lifted its huge fists to finish off the more dangerous foe.
Dar heaved away from the crypt just as another blow slammed into it, smashing the entire wall of the tomb into dust. Electing for a less wild attack this time, he smashed his club into its arm with precision, there was a crack of bone, and the creature staggered slightly.
“Tho woo cad be hut,” the fighter snarled, his broken jaw slurring his words beyond comprehension. The golem turned to track him, and he followed up his initial strike with another swing at its right leg. The creature’s knee join was knocked inward, twisting its leg at an angle that would have been excruciating for a living creature. Instead, it just swiveled awkwardly and punched Dar in the shoulder.
“Ah woo muwa fahir!” Dar exclaimed, clutching his battered arm in agony. He looked up to see Allera coming around the edge of the melee, toward him. “No!” he yelled, holding up his good arm in an effort to forestall her.
Too late. The healer was trying to keep her distance from the golem, but she underestimated its long reach. The golem swept out a long arm, clipping her on the side of her head with its fist. The blow was just a glancing one, but Allera was knocked to the ground, stunned.
“Go woe!” Dar yelled to Talen, lifting his club again. The captain must have guessed what the fighter was getting at, for he swung his sword low, aiming for the golem’s injured knee. The sword bit into its flesh, and as the golem started to wind up for another attack the battered limb gave way. The golem fell to one knee, already struggling to get up.
The fall put its head right on a level with Dar’s. The fighter roared a bloody challenge as he brought his club around in a broad arc, smashing it into the side of the golem’s head. There was a loud crack, and its head bent over to the side, its ear almost touching its shoulder. The golem twitched, its hands still reaching for Dar. Then it toppled forward, smashing into the floor in an inert heap.
“Ahr woo awrite?” Dar asked, as Talen helped Allera to her feet. A bruise was already starting to form on her temple where the golem had hit her.
“You stupid, stubborn fool,” she said, clucking as she took his head in her hands. He gasped as powerful healing energy flooded into him, knitting his broken head and body back together.
“Wow,” he said, when she was done.
“What happened to Varo?” Talen asked.
“He was looking around, and then went to the passage,” Allera said, pointing.
“Fat lot of help he was against that thing,” Dar said.
“I was keeping an eye on the wizard,” the cleric said, reappearing in the passage mouth. “Or have you forgotten already how dangerous spellcasters can be?”
“So what happened to her?” Talen asked.
“She made herself invisible,” Varo said. “I wasn’t able to pinpoint her exact location, but I did note that she went down the corridor behind us.”
“Back toward the temple?” Allera asked.
“No,” Varo said. “As I went into the corridor, I saw a secret door we’d missed being shut. I believe that we’ll find her somewhere beyond it.”
“The smart thing would seem to be to count our blessings that we met a foe ready to run instead of fight, and keep going,” Dar said.
The four companions looked at each other for a long moment.
Richard Rawen
First Post
Brogarn said:
Exactly
Neverwinter Knight
First Post
I was going to make a comment like "Said the fighter with the lowest Int...", but then checked the Rouges Gallery only to find out they all have Int 10, except for...Talen. Who would have thought that he'd be the smartest of the group? I had him pegged as lawful stupid...
Anyway, Lazybones, you think anyone here believes that that's what's going to happen?
Anyway, Lazybones, you think anyone here believes that that's what's going to happen?
Lazybones
Adventurer
Nope, it's because you guys know these characters now, that I put that little ending in there.Neverwinter Knight said:
The rest of this week is one of those, "Oh, just when you thought things were grim now..." sequences. Building to a nasty Friday cliffhanger, of course. Those of you who have read the module and know what lies beyond that secret door will know exactly what I mean.
* * * * *
Chapter 64
INTO BANTH’S LAIR
The secret door, in actuality a slab of iron cleverly disguised to look like the surrounding stone, pivoted on a central axis. It had been locked, secured by some unseen mechanism, but Dar was able to wrench it open, revealing a plain straight corridor beyond.
Talen had his bow out; they agreed that if they encountered the wizard again, Varo would silence an arrow and Talen would try to put it either into or near her, to block her spellcasting. Dar had handed over a fistful of his magical arrows to the captain, to better his chances. While the mercenary still had Argus’s shortbow among his cache of weapons, he was far more effective in melee. Allera and Varo were still carrying the elf. Dar had suggested leaving “the baggage” in one of the crypts, but Varo had refused. For some reason that the fighter couldn’t fathom, the cleric seemed almost fanatically dedicated to the well-being of their former companion.
The passage extended as far as they could see, into darkness. They cautiously made their way forward. There was no way to mask their approach; they needed the light of Talen’s sword and Varo’s staff to see.
“Shh... do you hear that?” Talen said, lifting a hand for silence.
“I don’t hear anything,” Dar said after a few seconds.
“Sounded like... buzzing,” the captain said.
“Remain alert for traps,” Varo said from the rear of the column.
They continued on, and saw that the passage bent slightly to the right before opening onto a room up ahead. The chamber was much wider than it was deep, and extended as far as they could see to their right and left. Stone statues placed at regular intervals formed two rows across the room, facing the center, forming a hallway thirty feet across between them.
The room was occupied. A disorderly knot of humanoids were gathered in the middle of the room to the right, and as soon as the companions entered they turned and started shuffling in their direction. The creatures were clad in battered suits of archaic plate mail armor, and carried halbards.
“Zombies,” Varo said. He and Allera put the elf down in the shelter of the passage, and joined Dar and Talen. The captain lifted his bow and put an arrow square into the chest of one of the creatures. The missile pierced its armor, but the shot did not appear to have any effect.
“Save your ammunition,” Varo said. “These must be hacked to pieces.”
“Not a problem,” Dar said, drawing out Valor. He swallowed as the power of the sword settled over him, but he held onto the hilt of the weapon tightly as the undead monsters closed to attack.
The fighters met the surging undead with a violent assault. The zombies, too slow to react, took devastating hits that ripped them apart, their ancient suits of armor offering little protection against the powerful attacks. Dar slammed Valor through a zombie’s torso, from its left shoulder to its right hip. As the monster fell apart, he swung his sword around in an arc that took a second creature’s head from its shoulders. Talen was only slightly less effective, delivering a pair of cuts that sent a zombie tumbling to the ground. Allera stood at the ready, knowing that her involvement in the melee would only add to their risk, while Varo held back with a deep frown on his face, scanning the surrounding darkness. Finally he lifted his divine focus, and called upon the power of Dagos. Four of the zombies tottered back and withdrew from the melee, swayed by the call of the cleric’s god.
Talen and Dar continued to tear apart the zombies, suffering only minor injuries in turn from the undead monsters’ crude blows with their awkward weapons. The zombies weren’t putting up much of a fight, and none got past the two defending warriors.
“We are being delayed,” Varo said.
“It’ll just be a few seconds more,” Dar said, pushing a zombie off him, and sweeping his sword through its lower body, almost severing it in two. The zombie toppled over backwards, flailed about a bit, and fell still.
“I don’t think we have a few seconds,” the priest said, as a light appeared on the far side of the room to their right. The light was coming from a door that opened in the center of the wall; it looked like a roaring bonfire had been placed directly behind it.
That appearance was just an illusion, however. As the companions watched, the roaring fire moved through the doorway, expanding as it came into the room until it brushed the vaulted ceiling twenty feet above. As it fully entered the room, the flames took on a semi-humanoid form, with huge “arms” of fire materializing out of its core. It was fully fifteen feet from one side to the other, and the way that the flames splayed out over the ceiling, it looked as though the peaks of the fire could have extended far higher than they did. Trailing lines of black char on the stones, it started moving toward them.
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