The Doomed Bastards: Reckoning (story complete)

[BobbyMac]

Another variant rule I like is: When calculating falling damage use RAW except replace all occurrences of lethal damage "Xd6" with "X Constitution damage" (recalculating hit points accordingly).


First time comment: I love this story. The highlight so far for me was when Allera unleashed that Mass Heal a while back. Great work!

 

[jensun]

I remember using a variant like that myself, falls should be dangerous no matter the PC level.

While not wanting to derail the thread why? If I can withstand the inferno like breath of an elder dragon a short fall really shouldnt bother me.

Put me in the same camp as Shilsen, PC's of this level are heroes in the mould of Hercules and Achilles. Their concerns are bigger than whether or not they fall in a pit.

 

[shilsen]

I know it's supposed to be a "heroic" game and while I can visualize amazing spells and deadly sword blows (in part because the character has a chance to dodge/roll with it/avoid the attack), falling 60' and walking away without serious injury is harder. In part because of the d6/10' rule, which doesn't take into effect the fact that falls get more serious the farther you plummet.

I think a lot of people have problems with issues like that. I just remind myself that physics in the D&D world is a house rule.

I remember an old variant rule, I think it was in Dragon, where you added a cumulative dice of damage with each 10' you fell. So 10' remained d6, but then 20' was 3d6, 30' 6d6, and so on until you hit terminal velocity (20d6) at 60'. I only used that system in one campaign, and it has its disadvantages, but it does make players less cavalier about things like pits.

Yeah, I remember that rule too. I thought about using it once, but then I reminded myself that it would be very internally inconsistent to be able to do the sort of stuff D&D heroes can and to be able to absorb the damage they can take, but be worried about falling in a hole. As jensun noted above, being able to withstand an ancient dragon's breath (and a high enough level PC can do it without bothering to dodge, i.e. while failing his save) but being scared of pits is a little silly.

I can certainly see the justification for D&D's simple 1d6/10' rule. Maybe it is best if we keep it "heroic"; it allows for silly but fun situations were a player can leap off a building, splat, and dust himself off before resuming the chase of the bad guy. Sort of like Claire in "Heroes".

I guess a lot of the definitions of "silly", "heroic", "fun", etc. depend on what we're comparing the situation with. When I see a PC jump off a building and walk away, I'm thinking more of Cuchulainn's salmon leap than Claire. One of the silly but fun things most players/DMs tend to buy without a second thought, for example, is D&D combat with large monsters. That's one of the interesting things about using miniatures. When you do, you realize exactly how much bigger than the humans (leave alone the gnomes and halflings) a huge sized creature is, and how ludicrous the idea of someone doing damage to one with a weapon is. When you see that high level D&D characters can rip, say, a bulette in half with a rusty dagger in six seconds (which would be about equivalent to some tiny creature killing a human being with a human nail), it's hard to ignore the fact that we're dealing with a drastically different form of reality.

Anyway, that's all a really longwinded way of reiterating that I really enjoyed the bit in your story where the mythic and superhuman aspects of the characters was touched upon, since that's an area where the prose and the mechanics seemed to fit perfectly together, rather than working at cross purposes.

And I'm looking forward to karmic payback for them beating up the poor, helpless widdle zombie shark. Next time, just give it frickin' scorching rays shooting out of its head. That'll teach 'em!

 

[Lazybones]

Thanks for all the posts; I'm glad you guys are enjoying the story.

* * * * *

Chapter 340

QUESTIONS OF LOYALTY


The first stretch of the tunnel under the mountain was the worst. There had to be some sort of crevice or other drain that allowed most of the water to seep away, or the entire route would have been flooded. But the first thirty feet of the passage beyond the broken black slab had still been inundated to within a few scant feet of the low ceiling, and in two places they had to duck under low overhangs that had left only a scant few inches of air between the water and the rock. The vampires, of course, had no difficulty; they no longer had the burden of breathing.

But the companions pressed forward, and after that initial stretch, the tunnel began to ascend gradually. The bare black rock remained slick with moisture, and slime soiled their clothes when they brushed against it, but at least they could see clearly and move easily. The ascent grew steeper but still manageable even with the slipperiness of the floor, and they soon saw a large chamber open up ahead.

The place turned out to be another irregular chamber, with smooth black walls that rose up to a rounded ceiling some twenty feet above. It rapidly widened beyond the range of their lights, and bent around to the right, extending for a considerable distance from the way their bootsteps returned hollowly from ahead. Shay set out unbidden along the left wall, while Drudge and Hedder moved out to the right at a gesture from Talen. The others moved forward out of the entry, spreading out to give them room to maneuver. The vampire Needles, close behind Letellia throughout their trip through the tunnel, jostled her as he bounded forward into the chamber. The sorceress glanced back at the creature with disgust.

“Tell your spawn to keep its distance,” she said to Talen.

“Do not take his attentions personally,” Talen said. “In life, he had a preference for stabbing young women with those little knives he carries.”

“Sharp little needles,” the bandit cackled. But he withdrew as Allera stepped up next to the sorceress, and lifted a hand that flared briefly with blue energy.

“Needles, go with Carra and keep Shay company,” Talen commanded. The vampires moved to obey, swallowed up by the darkness as soon as they left the radius of their torchlight.

“Your control over your minions seems to be growing tenuous,” Dar said.

“Their will belongs to me,” Talen said simply. “Do not concern yourself; they will behave, until it comes time to collect my revenge.”

“And then what?” Allera asked suddenly.

The question seemed to catch him off balance, but just for a moment. He chuckled. “Let us see if we survive the Demon, first, and then we can talk of the future.” He turned and walked out toward the middle of the room, where they could see Shay returning, the head of her longspear catching the light before they could detect the sleek shape of her black-clad form.

“He is mad,” Allera said to Dar.

“We are all mad,” Varo said. “But that does not change what must be done.”

Talen turned back toward them. “There’s a door on the far side of the chamber, nothing else. Let’s get moving.”

The other vampires rejoined them at the door, a slab of heavy gray granite that stood out clearly from the adjacent black stone. The door was set deep into a lintel carved from the surrounding walls, and looked as tight as a cork that had fallen into the stem of a bottle of old wine. It proved as tough to open, but they had no shortage of raw strength, and finally Dar and Talen were able to grind it open, revealing the black mouth of another passage.

The tunnel was irregular and dank, the darkness retreating almost reluctantly from the light of their torches. The companions pressed on. A scent of decay suffused the air. While it did not trouble the vampires, the mortals found themselves covering their faces in a vain effort to filter out the worst of the stench. Alderis coughed, his breath rattling in his chest like a trapped animal. Allera helped him as best she could.

“The elf looks like he is about to keel over,” Dar whispered to Varo. “Could be that your book was wrong about him.”

“He is stronger than he looks,” the cleric replied. “Look, the scout has found something.”

The torches revealed Shay, standing under a broad arch of ancient gray stones. Beyond the arch a pair of statues, or rather the remains of them, warded the corridor forward. There was just enough left of the dark obsidian shapes to hint at what they had been, representations of things that had been in no way human. Debris lay strewn about the floor, admidst which lay the occasional bone, starkly white in the light shed by their brands.

“If this isn’t a trap, I don’t know what is,” Dar said.

“Agreed,” Talen said. “Calla, go in there and check it out.”

“No!” Allera interjected, coming forward. “She’s just a—”

The healer trailed off as all of the vampires turned to face her, including the girl. “She knows exactly what she is,” Talen said. He turned back to her. “Go.”

The lithe vampire darted forward into the room, moving among the bone fragments and obsidian shards, barely disturbing even the dust on the floor with her steps. She slipped across the room like a mouse, and prowled around both of the statues, poking at the remnants before returning to the arch.

“Clear,” she said.

At Talen’s gesture Shay led them forward again. Talen shot a glance at Dar and Varo, as if to confirm his earlier comments about the loyalty of his servants. Neither man responded, but Dar’s expression darkened, and his hand slipped once more to the hilt of Valor. Talen saw the gesture and smiled.

The passage continued on the far side of the room, passing under another arch. This corridor was much straighter than the one they’d just traversed, constructed of large stone blocks with deep gaps at the seams. It appeared to open onto another much larger chamber a short distance ahead.

Shay had barely entered the passage when they heard a soft click, and then the air was full of spears, erupting from the crevices in the walls.

 

[Lazybones]

Chapter 341

TRIALS OF ALLEGIANCE


Shay leapt back, but she was struck by at least four of the long shafts. One pierced her shoulder, striking with enough impact to fling her across the tunnel. The head of the spear, penetrating all of the way through her body, hit the far wall with enough force to embed itself two full inches into the stone. The scout slumped down, additional spears dangling from her left side, left hip, and right arm.

Allera started forward at once, but Talen blocked her with a raised hand. “What are you going to do? She’s fine, and there may be another trap waiting.”

And indeed, the scout was now straightening, still pinned to the wall. There was no blood. Moving jerkily, she plucked the spears out one by one, finally seizing onto the one impaling her shoulder, awkwardly pulling herself down the length of the shaft, until she was able to fall forward off its length. Straightening, she turned back to them. “Thanks for the help,” she said dryly. She seemed to be growing stronger with each passing second.

“Are there any more traps?” Talen asked.

While Shay searched the corridor, Varo picked up one of the spears that had ricocheted out into the room. “Poisoned,” he said, indicating the greasy brown smear on the end of the bent steel head. “I do not recognize the type, but it is no doubt unpleasant.”

“Lucky for you that one of us was in the lead, and not one of you,” Talen said.

After a few minutes, Shay reported the passage free of additional traps, and they moved forward into the next chamber. This one seemed smaller than it was, due to the presence of a considerable structure of stone slabs that had been erected in its center.

The building, if indeed it was that, rose up nearly thirty feet above the level of the floor. Each of the walls they could see was covered by garishly colored paintings of Orcus, surrounded by a fell collection of minions and slaves. Within those decorations was what looked like a door, but which on closer examination proved to be part of the painting itself; the walls themselves were free of openings or portals that they could see. Thick pillars of smooth black stone stood at each corner, giving the structure the look of a small keep or fortress.

“This is the gateway,” Varo said.

“All right, check it out,” Talen indicated. His vampires split, Needles and Drudge going left with Shay, while Calla accompanied Utar and Hedder to the right. Their search did not take long, as the structure was the only thing of note in the chamber. The vampires reported that all four walls of the building were painted similarly, with a different gate featured on each. One wall bore a barred gate, another a door of iron-bound wood, the third a portal of dark stone, and the last a formidable-looking iron door. The common feature on all four walls was the demon god, looming over them like a gargoyle. The eyes of the demon seemed to follow them as they walked, adding a certain creepy air to the already tense circumstance.

“Damn it, it’s just a wall, there’s nothing behind all this paint,” Shay said, checking the wall nearest the entry in more detail.

“What are those markings?” Allera asked, raising her torch to indicate the tortured scribbles that were painted above the depicted door.

“The writing is in the Abyssal tongue,” Varo said. The cleric had unslung his handy haversack, and was taking a garment of folded, tattered fabric from within. “One word on each wall. Together they read, in the common tongue of man, ‘Abase Thee And Enter.’”

“Screw that,” Dar said, at the same moment that Talen said, “I’ll not kneel before...” The two men trailed off and shared a sharp look.

“Maybe we can blast through,” Letellia said. “The stone cannot be that thick...”

“The barrier is more than mere rock,” Varo said. He unfolded the garment, which the others now recognized as a ragged clerical vestment. Even in its current condition they could identify the markings of the cult of Orcus across its face. They had certainly killed enough clerics bearing such a robe to know it well.

“What are you going to do with that?” Dar asked, suspicious.

“I am going to open the way,” Varo said. He put on the vestment, and knelt before the design of the iron door.

“I do not like this,” Allera said quietly, leaning up close to Dar, careful not to obstruct his access to his weapon. Even the vampires seemed a bit uncomfortable, withdrawing from the cleric.

Varo lowered his head, and began to incant. His words were spoken in a thick, terrible language, syllables that scraped like fingernails on slate to the hearing of those present. He spread his arms wide, the gesture extending the vestment and highlighting the sigil splayed across his chest.

“Perhaps it is not my loyalty with which you need to be concerned,” Talen said to Dar.

Varo’s words rose to a crescendo that was almost painful; Allera raised her hands to her ears. The cleric raised his head, and they could see trails of blood running down his face, trickling from his nostrils and from the corners of his eyes. The cleric seemed tiny, insignificant before the monstrous figure that rose high above him on the wall. Here, in this place, even a painted image of the Demon seemed more powerful than their weak mortal shells.

But something was happening. The painting of the iron door began to glow, rimed in an unearthly red light. It brightened as the door opened... and then it was not just a painting, an image in pigment and ochre, but a real doorway, a portal into a space beyond.

Varo pulled himself up, haltingly. Allera came to him, reluctantly it seemed, but he waved her away with a hand. The blood trailing down his face gave him the look of a corpse. He reseated his helm, and stepped forward, through the door. The others followed behind, slowly.

The space within the structure seemed oddly larger than the exterior, and more than one of them shot a wary look back at the door leading outside. The place was lit by a diffuse ruddy light that seemed to emanate from the very walls. The chamber was occupied by only one feature, a huge stone sarcophagus set upon a step in the center of the place. Varo was already there, heaving at the lid. The thing had to weigh hundreds if not thousands of pounds, and Talen and Dar started forward to assist, but then the cleric let out a fierce noise, and the slab slid aside, thumping hard on the floor as it gave way.

Wary of a guardian, the fighters edged forward, hands on weapon hilts. But the inside of the tomb was empty, save for a narrow staircase that descended into shadow.

Dar looked a question at Varo, already knowing the answer.

“We go down,” the cleric said, his voice hollow within the confines of his helmet.

They proceeded in single file down the stairs, the sounds of their feet strangely muted. They descended for sixty-six steps, before the shaft opened onto another large chamber.

This one was different than the last. The walls, floors, and ceiling alike were fashioned of seamless white stone. The place was spacious, perhaps sixty feet wide and forty feet across. A pair of large doors were set in the opposite wall, flanked by two thick pillars that ascended to the ceiling twenty-five feet above. The doors were carved with the now-familiar scenes of demons, interrupted by runes of silvery mithral that seemed to glow with a soft inner light of their own. The pillars, too, bore carvings, forms of skeletal demons bearing greatswords that lifted almost to the ceiling. Some debris was scattered around the perimeter of the place, mostly bones and piles of rusted metal, but otherwise it was clean, as though even dust was reluctant to intrude here.

“There is so much... too much...” Letellia said, lifting her hands to her head.

“What is it?” Dar asked. Alderis, too, looked to be in discomfort, his eyes shooting back and forth as though seeing dangers lurking on the edges of their perception.

“Magic... evil... chaos... so strong, everywhere!” the sorceress said. Allera rushed over to her, but she held up a hand, swallowing as she took several deep breaths. “It’s... I’m all right. There are times when arcane sight can be more a hindrance than a boon,” she explained.

“I suspect that many of our powers may be restricted in this place,” Varo said. “It is shielded, even stronger than the level above.”

Talen and Shay had walked out into the center of the room, flanked by their entourage, who seemed to huddle in their wake. “What do those words say?” Talen asked, indicating the mithral runes set into the doors.

“Beware the crossing, for those who disturb the Master’s rest, gain only eternal torment,” Varo said. He barely looked up, and the words seemed like they were dragged from within him against his will. The black plate of his armor seemed especially incongruous in the pale surroundings of the chamber. With all of them clad in muted garments, their hands and faces stained with sweat and dirt, it was almost as though all color and life was leeched away in this strange and alien place. When Varo stepped forward, he left a spot of blood on the floor that drew the eye.

Talen muttered something to himself, and started forward toward the doors. He made barely three steps before a ghostly figure materialized directly in front of him. The vampire knight fell back into a ready stance, his sword hissing from its scabbard, but the spectral form did not immediately attack. Instead its outline wavered and then took on more substantial definition. It remained incorporeal, its undead nature instantly obvious, but they could now recognize the identity that the ghost had possessed in life.

It was Nelan.

 

[Richard Rawen]

awww . That can't be good! Great mood setting posts LB, I get the feeling about anything could happen next... which is so much better than many of the published works I've read.

*hint hint*

 

[Lazybones]

Thanks as always for the kudos, Richard.

* * * * *

Chapter 342

FALLEN ALLIES


For a moment, the Doomed Bastards merely looked at their former companion, who regarded them with a deeply melancholy expression.

Allera started forward, but Dar blocked her with a hand. He’d drawn his axiomatic sword. “Nelan, what are you doing here?”

“I guard the Way,” the cleric said, his voice thin and hollow. “I am sorry, friends... the Demon... it is too powerful, it claimed me...”

“There is no shame in it,” Varo said.

Talen, who had mastered himself after his initial moment of surprise, chuckled. “Easy for you to say, deceiver, given your culpability in his fate.” The vampire turned to Nelan. “Stand aside, cleric. I bear you no ill will, but you cannot stop us.”

Something flashed in the dead cleric’s eyes. He looked at Dar and Varo. “You are making a mistake, allying with the likes of these. They will betray you...”

Talen laughed again. “You have a lot of gumption, ghost, to speak of betrayal. Now stand aside, or make whatever feeble move you are capable of. No doubt you can wrinkle the spirits of my mortal companions, but your powers are of no use against one such as I.”

“You are wrong, commander. And I am not alone.”

The air behind him wavered, and several other ghosts materialized. Their faces, too, were familiar—Marcus, Alexion, Zahera. Like him, they bore the arms and armor they had carried in life, although their weapons were as insubstantial as the rest of them, and it was not clear what damage they could wreak against corporeal flesh. Having dealt with ghosts in the past, however, the companions were wary. Varo glanced at Allera, fixing her with his stare for a moment before essaying a subtle nod. The healer’s jaw tightened, but she was already ready with what might have to be done.

“So not one of you could resist him, eh?” Talen said, walking casually in front of them as if they had not just threatened to attack him. Behind the ghosts, the others could see Shay, a barely visible shadow, moving into position near the double doors.

“There was no resisting,” Marcus said, the dead cleric’s voice thick with inner torment. “He is too powerful.”

Talen spun and confronted the ghost. “I resisted it. I felt that call, that compulsion... but I fought it!” He shifted his attention to Alexion and Zahera. “What you are saying, is that you were weak! I chose you to serve Camar, but your oaths were nothing, in the end!”

The two dead knights did not respond.

“Talen, what purpose does this serve?” Allera asked, coming forward despite Dar’s caution. She glowed with a soft golden light, a holy aura cast in anticipation of a confrontation. The glow extended around Dar, Varo, Letellia, and Alderis, but she did not include the vampires in its protection. Likely Talen was right, and they did not need it; could the power of undeath harm those already dead?

“You are right,” Talen said, without turning. “It serves nothing.” He focused on Nelan. “So, cleric, are you going to step aside?”

“I cannot.”

“So be it,” Talen said. He lifted his sword.

“No, wait!” Allera shouted.

But it was too late, as several things happened at once. Nelan, his face tinged with regret, lifted his arms, and... changed. Black tendrils of power twisted through his incorporeal form, and his face transformed into a visage of unnatural terror. The power of his new master surged outward, the horrific appearance of the ghost stabbing into the life energy of the living foes that confronted him.

Behind him, the other ghosts unleashed their own power, their corrupting gazes striking like daggers at the vitality of the companions.

But these attacks were not the final sum of the gateway’s defenses. The unnatural carvings on the pillars that flanked them on either side twisted and took on life, bulging and growing as they stepped away from the rock that encased them. The skeletal figures that had decorated the pillars were replaced by a pair of glabrezu, their hulking masses looming large over the smaller enemies recoiling before them.

 

[Lazybones]

Chapter 343

GUARDIANS OF THE GATE


Bolstered by Allera’s very timely holy aura, Dar weathered the attacks of the ghosts well, although he could feel the icy touch of their power along the fringes of his soul, like the chill of a wintry breeze. He heard Letellia cry out, and turned to see the sorceress stagger back, the skin of her face and hands crinkling like the skin of an old apple.

That was enough for Dar. He knew that ghosts were hard to hurt, but Valor would serve, if necessary.

But then the glabrezu appeared, and the equation changed.

Talen’s vampires needed no urging to attack. Even as Talen had raised his sword they had swarmed forward, hacking at the ghosts. But their weapons passed harmlessly through the incorporeal undead, and the former bandits staggered through their vague forms, which were utterly unaffected. The ghosts proved that the reverse was not true a moment later, as Alexion raised his pick and drove it into the side of Drudge. The ghost-weapon pulsed with black power, and it bit deep into the solid flesh of the vampire, tearing open an ugly wound despite his considerable resistances to most forms of attack.

“Attack the demon!” Talen shouted at them, as the huge glabrezu emerged from the pillars, their long pincer-arms giving them an easy reach to attack any of them. Ignoring the ghosts, he rushed at the nearer of the two demons. But as he rushed past Nelan, the priest reached out and touched him. The vampire was caught off guard as positive energy tore into him, and he screamed as it pierced him like a hundred arrows, tearing deep into the corrupt core of his being.

“How?” he cried, as he staggered back, trying to recover.

“I serve a new Master,” the cleric said, his eyes reflecting the vampiric knight’s torment.

Varo had been ready with the power of Dagos, and even as the ghosts released their power he countered it with his own. Nelan’s horrific appearance nearly overcame him, but Allera’s protective ward gave him enough strength to resist it. The attacks of the lesser ghosts were no real threat, nothing against the swelling surge of power he commanded. But his attempt to rebuke the ghosts failed. He knew that this place bolstered undead through the dark potency of Orcus, but even so the sheer intensity of it caught him by surprise. The power of this place that had nearly overwhelmed the sorceress’s senses was like a solid wall a hundred feet high, against which the might of his divine patron pounded as uselessly as a crashing wave. He recognized the subtle attempt to undermine his will, and angrily he shook it off. He reached out again, this time drawing in his power for a potent summoning spell. Once again his effort failed, as his magical calls vanished into the chasm between realities, blocked by the power of Orcus.

The demons, however, had no such difficulty. Upon their arrival, each of them immediately set upon conjuring aid, and unlike Varo, their summons were answered. Sick ripping noises accompanied by a visual distortion in the air above as reality twisted, and a pair of vrocks appeared, flapping their wings as they surveyed the scene of developing carnage.

The few seconds it took to complete the summons gave Dar the initiative as he stepped forward to engage the first demon. Such was its size that the fighter had only to take a few steps to attack, but even so the demon’s superior reach gave it an advantage. It stabbed one of its pincer-claws at him, trying to snap his neck in its grip. Dar batted it aside with Valor, shearing off the lower half of the demon’s claw with the blade. Valor sung with potency as it fulfilled its purpose, and the demon was given pause by the power it recognized in that weapon. For a moment, it considered a temporary withdrawal, to prepare defensive wards and a better tactical position.

But then Dar opened his mouth.

“Is that the best you got, you freaking dog?”

The glabrezu roared in rage, and unleashed a full attack upon the diminutive wretch. Its damaged claw could no longer grasp, but it could still hit, and the demon smashed the little man across his helmeted face with a backswing. Before he could recover, it snapped its other claw down hard. It tried to seize him by the waist, but managed to get only a leg, clamping down just below the hip. Still, that was enough to lift the human up high enough for the demon’s smaller claws to reach him, and they tore at his chest, reaching up under his helmet in an attempt to crush his scrawny throat. Finally, the demon lunged forward and bit at the man’s wrist, seeking to end the threat of the magic sword once and for all—which would make a fine prize to take back to the Abyss.

The assault would have left most men broken and dying. Unfortunately for the demon, it had picked probably the worst possible man in all of Camar with which to tussle.

The glabrezu had his leg good, but it hadn’t yet gotten a solid purchase on his neck, and Dar was able to tear his arm free of its bite. The pincer-claw was perhaps the greatest worry, so he sliced down with Valor and took the entire arm off at the elbow. Its weaker fore-claws were not enough to hold him, and he fell, wincing as his damaged leg stabbed agony with the impact. The demon roared in pain, but its head was way up above him now, out of reach. Dar decided to rectify that and smashed Valor down into the left knee. He’d intended to cripple the joint, but managed to score a critical hit, severing the leg entirely. The glabrezu toppled to the size, now in serious trouble. It tried to call its magic to flee, but before it could concentrate through the pain of two severed limbs it felt the human leap onto its back, a moment before two feet of axiomatic steel entered through the base of its skull, putting a sudden end to it.

The other demon wasn’t exactly having a good time on the far side of the room. Shay had engaged it as soon as it had appeared, rushing at it and thrusting her longspear deep into its armored side. The demon had ignored her until it had summoned its vrock, and then turned to face her. It yanked the spear out of her grasp as she tried to draw it back, but she avoided getting snared herself, dodging back out of its reach as Talen’s vampires leapt upon it in a violent frenzy. Their attacks were almost futile against a creature of the demon’s power, but it was forced to take them seriously, especially when the little Calla struck it across the back of one leg, sucking life energy out of it into herself.

While the demons engaged with the warriors on the fringes of the battle, power flared back and forth through the center of the chamber, as the ghosts and spellcasters contested. Allera unleashed a mass cure that ravaged the ghosts. Their incorporeal existence protected them to some degree, making even odds that she could affect them at all, but she caught Marcus and Zahera in the first attack, the blue fire opening ghastly rents in their misty outlines. Zahera responded with an arrow that proved all too substantial when it hit, the hazy black shaft piercing her holy aura and biting deep into her flesh. The healer responded with equanimity, yanking out the shaft and firing off a second mass cure. The black arrow vanished into nothing along with the ghost of the woman knight, and this time both Nelan and Alexion felt the power of the spell as well. Nelan had been fencing with a much warier Talen, but as the mass cure wrought damage upon him he turned and hurled a flame strike into the midst of Allera, Letellia, and Varo.

The summoned vrocks had held back thus far, taking the time to ward themselves with mirror images. But they were quick to take advantage of the strike, and one dove forward in the wake of the flames. It uttered a devastating shriek that stunned Alderis and Letellia, and then landed in the midst of the casters, ready to rend and destroy. The second one saw a juicy target in Allera, and dove onto her, bearing her down under a flurry of cutting claws and tearing beak. The healer screamed and tried to get away, but the demon, surrounded by a flickering field of mirror images, engulfed her in a shifting swarm of violence.

 

[Cerulean_Wings]

I caught up... to page 28! Only 10 more pages to read of good ol' meat-grinder business!

Lazybones, you started with it, and 3 Books later, you still got it. Whatever it is, it draws me into the story, the characters, and the gruesome battles, without letting go. Please don't stop writing, or the souls of countless readers will feel empty and forsaken

If I had to choose the best moment of Book 3, it would have to be Dar's talk with Kalend, telling him to man up and be strong 'till the end. Very inspiring!

All of that praise being said, there's one little thingy that bugs me: modern expressions. Mostly, it's Dar using them, and while they sound cool and all, I don't think they mesh well with the medieval-fantasy setting they're in. Sure, Dar is the type of character who, in modern times, would say stuff like "effing awesome!", but I just don't feel like it goes well with the world they're in. Just my two copper on the matter, it's not a huge issue for me.

 

[Lazybones]

All of that praise being said, there's one little thingy that bugs me: modern expressions. Mostly, it's Dar using them, and while they sound cool and all, I don't think they mesh well with the medieval-fantasy setting they're in. Sure, Dar is the type of character who, in modern times, would say stuff like "effing awesome!", but I just don't feel like it goes well with the world they're in. Just my two copper on the matter, it's not a huge issue for me.

I do try and cut down on the more glaring examples of this, but I'm sure a few sneak in here and there. In many ways dialog is the toughest part of writing, and is one area that I've tried hard to work on in the course of my work. There have been a few places in past stories where I've done accents and other funky speech patterns and they always seem a bit... odd, so I stick to a mostly "modern" style in most of my works.

Next week, things really start to get crazy for the DBs.

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Chapter 344

FORWARD THE RECKONING


The remaining glabrezu summoned its power and conjured a ring of reverse gravity around it. Talen’s vampires went flying up to the ceiling, smacking into the smooth white stone. They weren’t really hurt by the suuden ascent, but the glabrezu had cleared the space around it, and protected itself from further encroachment.

Or at least that was what it had assumed. It was caught off guard as Shay charged it, her longsword glowing in her hand. She shot upward as she entered the reverse gravity field, but her momentum carried her forward, and as she shot past the glabrezu’s head she sliced out with the blade. The sword clipped the dog-demon hard, shearing off one of its ears. The demon roared and tried to grab her, but the reverse gravity still held her, and she landed easily in a crouch on the ceiling, upside down.

She was twenty-five feet off the floor, but that wasn’t enough to take her out of the demon’s long reach. The glabrezu snarled and lunged up at her, careful not to blunder into the effect of its own magic.

Talen growled in frustration as he sword passed through Nelan again without effect. The ghost cleric had been distracted to cast his flame strike, but now he turned back to face Talen again, and the vampire knew that another blast of holy energy of the magnitude of the first might destroy him. Or at least render him helpless, which may as well have been the same thing. He wasn’t going to get another chance at Orcus.

Nelan saw it, too. The cleric drifted forward again, power flaring around his extended hand, a mélange of black tendrils and the familiar blue glow of healing magic. Did the use of healing spells injure the ghost as well? Talen did not know, but he did know that the cleric’s touch was going to be a world of pain. He darted back, cursing himself for being too slow as Nelan closed the gap between them.

And then blue fire exploded around the ghost, and with a soft shriek the ghost of Nelan came apart.

Talen turned to see who had aided him, but it wasn’t immediately obvious who had cast the spell. Vrocks were everywhere, although he recognized that most of them were images cast from the pair that the glabrezu had summoned. Varo was fighting off another ghost... Marcus Felix, it appeared, although Talen couldn’t clearly distinguish him from behind. Talen would have put money on the inevitable outcome of that clash, but as he watched Marcus laid into the priest with his sword, and it was Varo who staggered back; the ghost was stronger than it looked, and their weapons seemed to have no difficulty affecting corporeal opponents.

He glanced back and saw the glabrezu battling his vampires, most of whom were on the ceiling, caught up in a reverse gravity field. He watched as the demon delivered a crushing blow to Shay, who narrowly tore free before it could seize her in its pincer. The scout was still in the fray, darting forward like a snake into the hole in the gravitic aura, falling directly onto the demon’s shoulders. It tried first to knock her free, then snapped at her with its jaws, but she was quicker, smashing her fist into its left eye. The demon roared and staggered back, and then both of them, demon and vampire, were flung up to the ceiling, where they continued to struggle.

Well, Shay seemed to have matters well in hand there. Talen turned and leapt into the shifting mess of illusory vrocks.

Allera felt as though she’d fallen into a tornado; the vrock bashed and buffeted her. Thus far the stoneskin that Letellia had placed on her had protected her from both the vrock’s mundane attacks and the burrowing spores that tried to penetrate her flesh. But there was nothing she could do to defend herself, but try to get away.

She slipped out of the vrock’s grasp as it tried to grasp her and draw in against its body. Staggering back, she hurled another wave of positive energy out from her: not an attack at the demon, but rather directed at her allies, and against the ghosts she could sense like spots of black against her perceptions. Fortunately she could distinguish them from the vampires, although at the moment she felt well tempted to destroy them as well, as Nelan’s warning echoed in her thoughts.

She couldn’t see the results of her spell, as the vrock rushed in and seized her again. This time its claws locked onto her upper arms, and it yanked her roughly into its embrace, its beak locking on her throat. The thing was very strong, and she thought she could feel Letellia’s magic weakening. Once the ward was depleted, she knew that the creature could tear her apart in a matter of moments.

Then the creature shrieked and dropped her. The healer hit the ground rolling, ignoring a stabbing pain through her right arm as the fall smashed her elbow. She looked up to see Talen and Dar double-teaming the demon. She wasn’t sure which one had struck it down, but its images were all but done, and as it tried to leap into the air, its wings beating furiously, Dar sliced his blade across its lower torso, eviscerating the thing.

The other vrock had enjoyed a brief moment of advantage against Letellia and Alderis, smashing the stunned spellcasters with its claws and knocking both roughly to the ground. But both were likewise protected with stoneskins, and as they recovered they quickly countered the vrock with potent attacks of their own. Alderis sheared away its mirror images with a dispel magic, and Letellia hit it hard with a disintegrate. The beam failed to vaporize the creature, but it certainly got its attention, and it adjudged the sorceress the greater threat, leaping onto her and crushing her arms against her body as it enfolded her in its muscular grip. The vrock started to pound its wings and rose into the air, perhaps intent on taking its prize somewhere quieter for private consideration. But it underestimated the powers of its victim, and a moment later Letellia successfully dimension doored out of its grasp, materializing on the far side of the room by the doors. That left it open to Alderis’s cone of cold, which blasted it with devastating effect.

The glabrezu had finally gotten a good grip on Shay, and it hurled her from it, tossing her halfway across the room. But as the demon tried to rise it found itself assailed from all directions by hungry vampires. For the most part their attacks failed to penetrate its heavy protection, but it took another hit that drained yet more life energy from its faltering body. The demon, deciding enough was enough, tried to teleport away, but its magic, drained along with its life, faltered and failed. It tried to get up and away, knocking vampires off it with its still-potent claws. But before it could escape the effect of its own reverse gravity Shaylara reappeared below, clutching her longspear once again. The highly-enchanted head of the weapon bit into the demon’s head just above the armored carapace that covered its back, sliding deep into the muscled flesh. The glabrezu thrashed wildly, sending vampires flying in every direction, and then it tumbled forward, plummeting hard to the ground below, narrowly missing crushing Varo as it struck.

The battle was already over by the time that the demon landed. Varo had destroyed Marcus’s ghost with a final pulse of healing energy, and the last vrock failed to escape as Letellia hit it with a barrage of magic missiles that cut through its spell resistance like small knives through fabric. As a summoned creature, the vrock dissolved into greasy black smoke as it expired, unlike the two massive glabrezu that lay like mounds of rubble in the center of the room. Black ichor spread across the white floor like slicks of tar, and as the rush of battle departed it left the stink of death and destruction in its wake.