The Doomed Bastards: Reckoning (story complete)

[Cerulean_Wings]

Awesomeness, Lazy Bones, you keep hooking me to your stories

Say, how do mechanics work for an ex-General who was one of the toughest fighters in the world ten years ago, and is now forced to pick up a sword once more? Does Dar lose levels aside from ageing?

 

[Lazybones]

Say, how do mechanics work for an ex-General who was one of the toughest fighters in the world ten years ago, and is now forced to pick up a sword once more? Does Dar lose levels aside from ageing?

I let him keep his levels (-1 for being raised at the end of book 5), but he took the usual age penalties to his physical stats. And of course he loses all of the benefits of his prestige class, as it had been linked to Valor. In terms of the story, I'm treating his fighting skills as a bit rusty, but still there to call upon when needed. And he's going to need them...

* * * * *

Chapter 10

A BLOODY WELCOME


Falah stood silent without complaint, his chest heaving as blood coursed down his body from the deep puncture wounds in his neck, left bicep, and right hip. Ghazaran poured healing energy from a wand into the fighter’s injured body, who grew noticeably stronger as the flows first eased, then stopped, the wounds knitting shut as the magic completed its work.

“What manner of creature was that?” the cleric asked the Seer.

“A bone crawler,” the mage responded, looking around the nycaloth, which was poking around in the wreckage of the destroyed guardian. The ‘loth had absorbed the brunt of the creature’s initial attacks, but its resistance to mundane weapons had allowed it to weather its assault far better than Falah. At first they had thought it some sort of construct, a clattering mound of bones knitted together by some forgotten arcane rite, but once Zuur’ka and Falah had really gotten into it, a living creature had been revealed beneath the encrusted armor of bones it had worn. It had responded with a violent frenzy of attacks, lashing them with tendrils that bore wickedly sharp bone fragments at their ends. But ultimately it could not withstand their combined assault, especially once Navev unleashed an eldritch blast that tore a gaping hole in one side of its amorphous body.

“You might have alerted us to the presence of such a guardian,” Ghazaran said, as he finished healing Falah’s wounds. The warrior silently took up his khopesh and took up a warding position at the mouth of the passage to the east.

“I told you before, that my knowledge of the secrets of this place is incomplete,” the mage replied. “I have only been in these halls once before, and I was escorted at the time. That was some time ago.”

“Let us hope that your knowledge of the Bloodways is more... accurate.”

“I have already made my feelings about this mission clear,” the mage returned.

Ghazaran did not bother to respond. The nycaloth returned from the niche from which the creature had sprung upon them bearing a golden shield. Its face had been shaped into the image of a roaring lion, and none of them needed an orison or cantrip to guess that it was likely magical. “None of you use a shield, so perhaps I will utilize this item,” the nycaloth said.

“That was not within our bargain. However, should your service prove instrumental to the completion of our mission, and demonstrate a willing support to its accomplishment, then I will countenance a worthy addendum to the reward portion of our contract.”

The cleric extended a hand, and the nycaloth turned over the shield with a scowl. Ghazaran handed it to Falah, who could not use such a device in conjunction with his huge blade, but who slung it across his back, so that the lion’s face looked upon them as he turned back toward the corridor.

Ghazaran indicated that direction, and Zuur’ka clomped off with Falah behind him. “Let us hope that the next chamber does not contain more surprises.”

The corridor sloped down and continued for some sixty feet before ending in a large stone door. Zuur’ka forced it open to reveal a room that was surprising indeed in its unusual construction. The floor of the chamber was a great open pit, full of a noxious green fluid that filled the chamber with wafts of toxic fumes. Narrow paths only slightly above the level of the fluid offered a passage across the acid pools that were tenuous at best, leading to a pair of large doors at the near end of the room to their left, and another barely visible across the chamber at its far end.

Ghazaran turned to the Seer, who pointed across the room. “The doors are traps. The true exit is another illusory wall on the far side of the room, to the left. One of the walkways passes close enough to step through.”

The cleric turned to the nycaloth. “Fly ahead and see if the route is clear of threats.”

“That is a hazardous duty, worthy of additional reward.”

Ghazaran chuckled. “You are immune to acid, and these fumes will not affect you in the slightest. Are you genuinely afraid, or merely seeking advantage?”

The nycaloth’s stare was menacing, but it complied, spreading its wings and launching itself into the air. The others drew back from the entry, the acidic fumes already making their heads swim, and threatening their gear with corrosion. The backblast from the nycaloth’s wings further sprayed them with droplets of acid, until the creature drew clear and flew rapidly across the chamber toward the far wall.

The illusory wall was right where the Seer had indicated. The nycaloth slowed as it approached, wary, but its claws passed through the image, followed quickly by the rest of it.

Unfortunately for Ghazaran’s planar ally, something else was waiting right behind the wall. The companions could not see what was happening, but they heard the creature’s exclamation of alarm. Before they could take action to intervene, the nycaloth reappeared, its wings flapping violently as it sought to rise back up into the air.

The source of its problems was immediately evident: a black ooze clung to its lower body, folded around its legs and lower torso like a tattered cloak. Part of it vanished through the illusory wall, connected by a thick tendril that stretched as the ‘loth sought to pull free.

The yugoloth was strong, but the ooze refused to release its prey. For a moment it looked as though it might tear free, but then the connecting strand of ooze thickened and pulsed, and the ‘loth was dragged roughly down, landing in the pool of acid with a raucus splash of sizzling droplets.

The bulk of the ooze came through the wall after it, descending onto it like a crashing wave of pure black.

 

[Vurt]

Rappan Athuk, the killer dungeon that doesn't discriminate between victims. Come one, come all, and please, stay a while...

 

[Lazybones]

Chapter 11

THE EBON OOZE


The nycaloth did not go down without a fight. The ooze had fairly engulfed it, now, driving it under the surface of the acid, but it seized hold of the nearest of the narrow walkways and pulled itself up, tearing at the ooze’s substance with its free claws. Fortunately it was immune to the deadly caustic touch of both the creature and the acid pool, so it could focus its attention on the foe.

Falah had started toward the narrow pathway as soon as the monster had appeared, but Ghazaran forestalled him. The cleric looked at the mage, who shrugged and incanted a spell. Rising into the air, he drifted across the room, hovering high near the ceiling to give him as much distance as possible from the heavy vapors rising from the pool.

Navev remained well back. Ghazaran turned to the mummy. “Perhaps you would like to contribute?”

The creature’s voice rasped from deep within the faded cowl. “From this range, I would be more likely to strike your ally than the ooze.”

Ghazaran shrugged, and turned back to watch the developing battle.

The nycaloth could not gain advantage, but at least it was keeping the ooze from pushing it down under the surface of the water. The stalemate was broken a moment later as the Seer arrived overhead, and unleashed a cone of cold upon both the yugoloth and the ooze. The amorphous black thing was stunned by the spell, its outer layer freezing over into a brittle crust. The nycaloth, shielded somewhat from the wizard’s spell by the ooze and by its own considerable resistance to cold attacks, took full advantage, tearing free and digging huge gashes in its “body”. Gobs of ooze fell away into the acid, where they dissolved into black streaks that lingered atop its surface.

The ooze, mindless in its attack, continued its efforts to overcome the fiend, but its opening had passed. The Seer peppered it with a series of scorching rays that burned away long swathes of the creature, and Zuur’ka finished the job, emerging from the acid to stand dripping and furious at the edge of the illusory wall.

With the creature dispatched, it was a trivial matter for the others to make their way across the narrow causeway and join the nycaloth and wizard at the far end. Ghazaran conjured water that they used to wash their gear clean of the lingering droplets of acid. While most of their mundane gear would need eventual replacement, the damage was not sufficient to reduce their effectiveness for now.

The nycaloth was not pleased. It hurled its greataxe down upon the floor. “My weapon is ruined!” it cursed. “I do not appreciate being used to trigger traps, or to serve as the target for area-effect spells.”

“I will heal your wounds,” Ghazaran said, drawing out his wand. “And your sacrifice is noted; for now you may use the axe I gave you, and when the mission is complete I will grant you the shield as a bonus.”

That mollified the ‘loth somewhat, but there was still more than a bit of tension present when the group, restored once more to full health, set out again. They made their way through the unremarkable chamber that had housed the ooze, and then down a set of stairs that deposited them in a larger chamber below.

The tomb was considerable and smelled of decay. Large stone sarcophagi lined the chamber to either side of the central aisle, a full score on each side. The companions gave them a wide berth, all save Falah, who stepped close to examine one briefly. The lids of the sarcophagi bore exceptional carvings, presumably of their inhabitant. The warrior gave a start as he recognized the figure depicted on the lid of the one he was looking at.

It was himself.

The Seer chuckled as the fighter drew back in alarm. “A minor illusion,” he said. “Of more concern is the next chamber. There is a potent enchantment effect there, capable of driving the minds of weak men insane with lust. I would suggest that you protect yourselves, and we should pass through swiftly.”

Ghazaran nodded, and placed protective wards upon himself and Falah. Navev, of course, needed no such protection.

The chamber of which the Seer warned was located at the base of a shaft that descended for twenty feet straight down. A ladder of iron rungs offered an easy route down, although the Seer merely drifted down using his overland flight spell. The nycaloth led them into the lushly decorated chamber, which included plush cushions, diaphanous silk screens, flickering oil lamps that oozed a sweet smoke, and other rich appointments. A faint music seemed to stir on the air, and a hint of laughter could almost be discerned at the edges of their perceptions.

“This could be one of the pleasure chambers in the palace of a Razhuri sultan,” Ghazaran said, with a raised eyebrow as he looked about. “The illusions here are rather... compelling.”

“Orcus had a sick sense of humor,” the Seer said. He directed them quickly to the hidden door on one side of the room, and they made their way through at once to another corridor that led deeper into the complex.

This new tunnel grew rougher as they progressed, and eventually it opened onto a vast natural cavern. Brightly colored fungi grew along the walls and in great spongy masses in the center of the place, some of them giving off a phosphorescent glow that rivaled their own magical light sources. The nycaloth started forward, curious perhaps, but the Seer raised a hand in warning.

“There are guardians here,” he said. “If we move quickly we may avoid them, but if we are challenged, we must strike quickly and decisively.”

Falah abruptly drew his sword. As the group grew silent, they could all hear the sounds of movement in the darkness ahead.

“It would seem that they already know we are here,” Ghazaran said. He lifted his hand and invoked a daylight spell. The brilliant radiance revealed the approaching figures: a trio of shambling, animated toadstools, each over ten feet tall, with several long tentacles twisting down from their bulging heads. They were accompanied by a quartet of awkward, stumbling forms, things that had once been humanoid, but were now clearly nothing close to that.

 

[Lazybones]

Hope no one is getting bored with the Adventures of the Bad Guys; we'll get back to the DBs eventually, but I was enjoying this little diversion into a different perspective, and I ended up fleshing it out more than I'd initially intended.

* * * * *

Chapter 12

LEAVING A BLOODY TRAIL


“Bloodsuckers and meat puppets,” the Seer said. “Those things are what we will become, if we let the mushrooms touch us.” He lifted his hands and began incanting a spell. The toadstools and their puppets shambled forward to attack. Zuur’ka and Falah stepped forward to block them from the casters, but their enemies moved too slowly, giving them ample time to unleash their magic.

Navev gestured, and a forest of twining black tentacles erupted from the floor, seizing all three of the bloodsuckers and the four meat puppets. The puppets, their bones dissolved by the process of their transformation, squished violently as the tentacles tightened around their bodies, and a terrible moaning rose from within the area of the invocation as the dark energies began to freeze them solid.

“Effective,” Ghazaran said. They merely watched as the guardians struggled to escape the chilling tentacles. One of the bloodsuckers tore free and approached them. Zuur’ka stepped forward to meet the thing, but before it could reach the edge of the tentacles Navev hit it with an eldritch blast, knocking it back into the center of the effect. Within a minute it was done, and as the tentacles vanished back into nothing only a mess of crushed and frozen matter was left behind on the floor.

“Well, shall we proceed?” the cleric suggested.

They were alert for other dangers, but the cavern did not present further hazards until they reached the far side. The cavern’s walls narrowed around them as they followed a bend into a long, tapering tunnel that culminated in a stone door set deep into the surrounding wall. Zuur’ka started toward the portal, but Ghazaran held the nycaloth back.

“There are black encrustations upon the wall around that door,” the cleric said, holding up his hand so that the daylight could better illuminate the area.

The Seer peered at the substance from a safe distance. “Ah, memory moss, I believe. A dangerous hazard—you have good eyes, priest.”

“My kind are accustomed to the dangers of the underworld,” the cleric replied.

The colony of moss was obliterated by a fireball from the Seer. The door was sealed, and while they found a keyhole, none of them possessed the skill to defeat the lock. The question became moot when Navev blasted the portal with a series of eldritch blasts, reducing it to rubble.

The area beyond the door was once again worked stone, a corridor that deposited them into another large hall. Here again were ranks of stone sarcophagi, and again some permanent illusion magic reshaped the designs atop them into the visages of the companions. This time, however, the faces carved into the stone bore expressions of terror and suffering, and the detail work was sufficient that they could discern worms eating at the flesh of their arms and legs, strips of skin being flayed away, and other depictions of tortures in progress.

“A charming place,” Ghazaran said dryly, as they made their way to the far side of the hall. The only exit was another shaft leading down, navigated by another iron ladder. Zuur’ka and the Seer flew down, while Navev merely glanced over the edge and magically transported himself to the bottom. They waited while Ghazaran, followed by Falah, took the more traditional means of the ladder to descend.

“How long is this going to take?” Zuur’ka asked, as Ghazaran stepped down off the last of the rungs onto the floor of the shaft. “I have important matters awaiting my attention in Gehenna.”

“If we do not complete the task within the fourteen hours allotted within our contract, I will release you,” Ghazaran said. “By my estimation, it has been little more than one hour since I called you to the Prime.”

The nycaloth subsided again, muttering imprecations.

The bottom of the shaft contained a pair of heavy doors of black marble, set with large pull-handles in thick, shiny brass. Navev stepped forward again, its magic coalescing around its bandaged fingers, but this time the doors were neither locked nor trapped, and Zuur’ka pulled them open with ease. The heavy doors swung on recessed hinges, assisted by some sort of hidden counterweight.

“How much further to the entrance of the Bloodways?” Ghazaran asked.

“We grow near,” the Seer replied. “There is another set of guardians, and perhaps the mistress of this dungeon. With Orcus gone, I do not know if she will still be present.”

“She?”

“An undead thing, of ancient and eldritch power. She was my escort on my first visit here.”

“Interesting. If I may ask, what was your errand, on that initial visit?”

“I sought knowledge,” the Seer said. “Many and powerful are the secrets of Rappan Athuk.”

“Indeed.” The cleric turned to Zuur’ka, who was waiting impatiently at the doors. “By all means, let us proceed,” he said. He fell in beside the Seer and Navev; for now Falah brought up the rear.

The doorway gave onto a short passage that opened onto another long hall. A large stone arch, carved into an oval with curved lines decorating its length, served as the transition from tunnel to chamber. Ghazaran’s light shone off a high ceiling of polished white marble, a stark contrast to the dark and neglected areas that they had passed through thus far.

The Seer held them at the arch. “Arrek veltex,” he said.

“A password?” Ghazaran asked.

“It should be safe now... if my memory is accurate.”

The cleric’s reply was a raised eyebrow. But nothing happened when they moved into the hall, and as they made their way down its length, following it around a bend to the left, they came to another set of black doors. These had been carved extensively, and while they had been defaced by deep slashes across their surface, it was immediately obvious what they had been shaped to represent.

“The demon lord looks rather reduced,” Ghazaran observed, looking up at the damaged depiction of Orcus.

“The lords of the Abyss still squabble over the spoils,” Zuur’ka intoned, issuing a noise that might have been a laugh. “The pits roil with chaos unleashed.”

“Such is a constant, if anything in the Abyss can be called such,” the Seer observed. “In any case, I believe the doors to be safe; at least I cannot detect any fell auras about them.”

The doors opened to reveal a downward sloping corridor, a full twenty feet wide and fifteen feet tall. The walls were covered with plaster, which bore images of funeral rites that grew more morbid and disturbing with each step. The hall extended straight for almost the full range of Ghazaran’s light, ultimately turning left.

The group made its way forward. The hall continued its subtle but steady descent as they continued around the bend. Their light indicated another left turn up ahead as Zuur’ka paused, its eyes narrowing as it focused its stare into realms beyond the mere physical.

“Three quasits approach,” the nycaloth said.

“I will deal with them,” the Seer said. He stepped forward and said, “I will answer your questions, and pass beyond to the Bloodways.”

But the only response was a frenzied flapping. “The imps withdraw,” Zuur’ka said, his tone indicating that he was not impressed by these defenders.

Ghazaran and the Seer exchanged a look. “It would seem that discipline among the guardians has broken down,” the cleric observed.

“This does not bode well,” the mage said. They set out again, the yugoloth in the lead.

The hall turned once more, and culminated in a large chamber. Here the images that decorated the plaster were truly grim, filled with demons and other foul things that cavorted among the ritualists, seizing the dead and dragging the souls of the departed down to the Abyss. The chamber held no furnishings or other decorations, but there were three quasits darting and dancing in the air near the far wall. As soon as they caught sight of the intruders, the little demons darted toward the wall. As they reached it, the trio vanished into the plaster, each passing into a painstakingly detailed and gruesome image of a tall, vulpine vrock demon.

None of the companions were particularly surprised when the images began to shimmer and twist, and the demons stepped out of the mural, taking on solid substance as they confronted the intruders.

“Well now,” Ghazaran said, as the vrocks shrieked and leapt at them.

 

[Lazybones]

Chapter 13

A FIGHT TO THE FINISH


The vrocks might have stepped out of a two-dimensional mural, but they sounded real enough, and the air reverberated with the pounding of their wings as they leapt to the attack.

Navev lifted a hand and blasted them with an eldritch blast that struck the leader, and then forked into secondary arcs that hit the other two an instant later. All three vrocks were blasted roughly back by the beams, although none appeared to be seriously damaged.

That changed a moment later, as Zuur’ka and Falah descended upon the fiends. The demons lashed out at their attackers with a violent frenzy of claws and bites, but in turn suffered heavily. Falah carved a deep cut across the body of one vrock, his magical khopesh unleashing a thunderous roar of sonic energy as he struck. The vrock, already battered, fell back dazed. Zuur’ka fell upon a second, springing up and then descending upon the demon with raking claws. The vrock recovered quickly and counterattacked with its own natural weapons, but the two fiends’ respective resistances made them somewhat difficult to hurt badly. The demon, however, had one edge, as it released a pulse of toxic spores that began to burrow into the nycaloth’s arms and chest. That attack drove Zuur’ka into a greater frenzy, and the nycaloth seized the demon in two of its arms and hurled it down upon the ground, while unlimbering its new axe with its other pair of clawed hands.

The third vrock sprang up and tried to aid its companion by taking the nycaloth from behind. It dug a claw into its back and might have gotten a dangerous hold, except that Navev hit it solidly with another eldritch blast, knocking it halfway across the room.

Ghazaran glanced over at the Seer, who was watching the battle dispassionately. “You do not feel any need to intervene?”

“My resources are finite, and it seems as though our companions have the matter well in hand.”

Falah was having difficulty with his opponent; while he had gotten the upper hand in his initial rush, the vrock was proving more durable that it had first appeared. It sprang up into the air, its wings flapping madly as it descended upon the fighter, tearing at his shoulders and head with its hind claws. Falah slashed at it with his big sword, but while he scored another hit, this one was a mere glancing blow, nowhere near as serious as the first. The demon unleashed its own cloud of spores, and suddenly the fighter was in serious straits, with blood coursing down his body from the vicious wounds opened by the demon’s claws.

“Oh, very well,” the Seer said, peppering the demon with a barrage of magic missiles. Ghazaran contributed with a mass inflict wounds spell, and all three demons shrieked as the spell penetrated their resistances and tore into their substance.

With that, the battle turned quickly against the demons. The demon that Navev had twice blasted elected to take the fight directly against the casters, but by the time that it had recovered and dove at them the warlock’s power had built up again at its call. No sooner had the demon dug its claws into Navev’s withered body than the mummy flared a final eldritch blast into its chest, at point blank range. This time the demon had expected the attack, and was able to keep from being driven backward. It knocked Navev off its feet as it landed, but it was now seriously hurt, with blackened scars covering its body where the three blasts had scored. Before it could exploit its temporary advantage over the fallen warlock, Ghazaran stepped forward to deliver a touch attack. The demon buffeted him with a claw, but the cleric’s concentration held as he unleashed an inflict critical wounds spell. The demon’s body twisted as the deadly magic coursed through it, and it collapsed, its false body dissolving around it to reveal the quasit inside. The small demon sought to flee, but Navev, still on the ground, tracked its passage as it fled, and vaporized it with a well-placed blast.

Falah’s foe was now seriously discomfited, but it pressed its attack upon the seriously injured fighter. But the spellpower of his allies had given him a brief respite, and the vrock’s assault was met by a powerful downward slice of the khopesh that took the fiend’s leg off at the hip. The demon fell to the ground, its body dissolving as rapidly as had the first. The quasit screeched as it rose up into the air, out of Falah’s reach. The fighter turned to give assistance to Zuur’ka, but his wounds were too great, and the spores that had sprayed across him continued to burrow deep into his flesh. He made barely two steps before he collapsed, the deadly khopesh clattering to the ground a moment before his body hit the floor.

Zuur’ka and the final vrock had exchanged a vicious and bloody attacks at close quarters, but due to their innate resistances to physical damage, all of the wounds suffered had been mostly superficial thus far. Blood coursed down the vrock’s chest from a blow from the nycaloth’s new axe, but in turn the ‘loth’s upper torso trailed long growths where the demon’s spores had deeply infested its flesh. The vrock had gotten back to its feet, and unleashed a full attack that culminated with its beak tearing a deep gouge in Zuur’ka’s neck. The ‘loth attempted to deliver another punishing blow with the axe, but the vrock seized hold of the nycaloth’s wrists, pinning them.

Unfortunately for the demon, Zuur’ka had four arms.

Lifting the axe, and the vrock’s arms, Zuur’ka dug its lower claws deep into the vrock’s torso. The demon gave up nothing in size or strength to the nycaloth, but Zuur’ka was in a battle frenzy, and lifted the vrock up like a sack of grain. The vrock fought back with its hind claws, opening terrible gashes across the front of the nycaloth’s legs. But Zuur’ka ignored the wounds, roaring as it hurled itself forward, the vrock held captive against its own body. They slammed into the far wall hard enough to crack the plaster. The demon, stunned, lost its grip on Zuur’ka’s wrists, and the nycaloth slammed the axe down hard into its face, cracking its beak. The demon hissed in pain and tried to get up, but Zuur’ka did not ease off, smashing the axe down again, crushing one of the demon’s eyes in its socket.

It just got worse from there. When the vrock started to come apart, the nycaloth was ready. The quasit tried to get away, but Zuur’ka seized it, holding it tightly in two of its claws. The little creature tried to babble something, but its cries turned to terrible screams of pain as the nycaloth tore its wings off, then its arms, and finally its legs. By the time that it finally crushed the little thing in its claws, it had already stopped moving.

The nycaloth turned to see the others watching, waiting. Ghazaran had brought Falah back from death’s door using his healing magic, and continued to pour positive energy into him from one of his healing wands while the fighter stood unsteadily, covered in his own blood and the shriveled remnants of the vrock spore tendrils.

The nycaloth tossed down the messy remains of the quasit onto the floor.

“I require healing,” Zuur’ka said.

“Of course,” Ghazaran said. “Well done.”

They took a moment to catch their breath, and for Ghazaran to finish healing those injured in the fight. The cleric burned through one healing wand entirely, tossing it aside before drawing out a second from one of the pouches at his waist. When he saw the Seer looking at him, he said, “I have spent years preparing for this day, wizard; I will not be denied now through scarcity of resources.”

“Not all of us can afford to be so profligate,” the wizard said. He walked over to the left wall, where the plaster showed an image of a giant cavernous maw swallowing up the tormented souls of the dead. “The entrance to the inner vault is here,” he said.

Navev shuffled forward, black energies crackling around its fingers. The undead warlock unleashed a barrage of eldritch power that tore away the plaster like a barbed whip slicing through tender flesh. There was a door of stone behind the covering, but Navev kept up its barrage, and soon that too crumbled, leaving a gaping opening in the stone.

“Come,” Ghazaran said, returning with a now-healed Zuur’ka. “Let us see if the guardian awaits our arrival.”

 

[Lazybones]

Chapter 14

AAPHIA


Zuur’ka pushed through the rubble of the doorway, which accessed a broad stone staircase that descended into a smaller chamber below. The companions made their way down, into the place that was obviously the final destination warding the entrance to the Bloodways.

The chamber was constructed of massive stone blocks that gave the place an impression of eternal solidity. To their left, a round door of steel was set into a threshold of unbroken stone; a small circular opening that might have been a keyhole was set into the center of the portal.

To their right, a long-dead woman sat upon a throne of red stone.

There was naught left but bones, and a long mane of glassy golden hair that clung somehow to the skeleton’s skull. It was clad in the remnants of what have once been a dress of exceptional finery, and now hung from the skeleton’s gaunt frame in tatters. An amulet of interlocking golden rings hung around its neck, and a thin steel chain dangled further down, dipping under the fabric of its garment.

No one present was particularly surprised when the skeleton shifted slightly, and turned toward them. Pale golden lights flickered into being within the caverns of its eye sockets.

The Seer presented himself boldly. “Aaphia. You remember me; I passed through these halls once before, in your company. I seek entrance to the Bloodways, along with my companions here.”

The crypt thing regarded them for a long interval. When it finally spoke, the voice was still recognizable as female, but it intoned hollowly, as though spoken from the depths of a hole burrowed deep within the ground.

“The Master has gone. This place is now only for the dead.”

Zuur’ka growled, but Ghazaran silenced him with a slightly raised hand. “With your Master departed, there is no reason to hinder us. We have business with Duke Aerim.”

The skeleton shifted its hands slightly on the arms of its throne. “The Bloodwraith no longer has any concern for the affairs of the living.”

“Then you will not permit us to pass?”

Aaphia extended a finger and pointed at Navev. “That one may pass beyond. The rest of you may remain, if you wish.”

“I ask you to reconsider. Clearly you have power, and it is not my desire to make an enemy of you, but we will not be dissuaded.”

“So be it.”

The crypt thing gestured, and abruptly Falah and Zuur’ka vanished. Aaphia lifted her finger again toward Navev. “You are worthy. Join me, and we shall make this our realm, for eternity.”

Ghazaran and the Seer had both readied components for spells. “What did you do with the others?” he demanded.

“Their suffering is transitory; soon they will pass over into the next reality. Your fate shall be joined to theirs; you will join me, here, for an eternity.”

 

[Dungannon]

Ummm, oops?

 

[Cerulean_Wings]

Awesomeness! Bloodwraith is an awesome title, not sure if it's from the module or not, but either way.

I wonder what Aaphi did to the 'loth and the warrior

Anyhoo, keep it up, Lazy Bones!

 

[Lazybones]

Awesomeness! Bloodwraith is an awesome title, not sure if it's from the module or not, but either way.

The Bloodwraith, the Bloodways, and the Temple of the Final Sacrament are all expanded levels in the Rappan Athuk: Reloaded boxed set.

I wonder what Aaphi did to the 'loth and the warrior

You'll find out shortly!

* * * * *

Chapter 15

THE THRESHOLD OF BLOOD


“I don’t think so,” the Seer said, as he unleashed a lightning bolt at the crypt thing.

The bolt could not miss at that range, but as it struck the blazing arc exploded in a frisson of magical energies that blinded them for a moment. When it had faded, it revealed Aaphia sitting unharmed upon the throne.

“A ward protects her!” the mage warned, already drawing back for the inevitable counterattack. It came immediately, as the crypt thing lifted a finger and directed a fiery scorching ray into the Seer. The wizard leapt aside with uncharacteristic spryness, patting wildly at the flames that flickered about his robe.

Ghazaran invoked a spell, and swelled as divine potency infused his body. The cleric expanded to almost twice his original size, and drew out a thick black rod that oozed raw magical power. He stepped forward to engage the crypt thing, which waited patiently upon its throne, impassive.

The cleric smote the creature with his rod, delivering a punishing strike that smashed in one entire side of its ribcage. But the dark thing merely absorbed the hit, extending a skeletal hand to seize the cleric’s wrist before he could draw back his weapon. There was a flash of magical power as the undead guardian discharged some sort of magic into him, but Ghazaran was infused with the power of dark gods, and he shook off the effect. Tearing his arm free, the cleric smashed down with the rod again and again, until only shattered fragments of bone remained.

“What do you think happened to the others?” Ghazaran asked the Seer, replacing the rod at his belt as his spell faded, and he shrank back down to his original size.

“It was a teleportation effect, but I do not believe that the range is especially great. Likely they are somewhere else in the complex, perhaps a confined bubble in the rock, possibly prepared in some manner to be immediately lethal.”

Ghazaran nodded; if he felt sadness or remorse at the loss of Falah and Zuur’ka, he did not show it. Instead he turned to Navev. “You were less than helpful in that encounter.”

“Perhaps our ally was tempted by the creature’s offer,” the Seer ventured.

Navev did not respond, but the cold stare that radiated from within that cowl gave adequate expression to the mummy’s thoughts.

Ghazaran did not flinch from that stare. “Remember our arrangement, Navev. We both will gain from the accomplishment of our objective.”

Again the mummy’s reply was silence, until finally it turned and shambled off toward the door. The Seer had gone over to the crypt thing’s remains, and bent to examine it.

“Well, presumably this is the key to that door,” he said, drawing out a key on the long steel chain around its neck. He did not feel compelled to share that he pocketed the creature’s amulet as well.

Ghazaran came over to investigate, but paused as a noise drew his attention around, back to the stairs leading up out of the crypt. “Something approaches.”

The three took up ready positions flanking the entrance, but the identity of the newcomers was obvious long before they became visible; they had gotten accustomed to Zuur’ka’s near-constant invective.

“What transpired?” Ghazaran asked, as the nycaloth and human fighter appeared together. Both looked as though they’d been carved up; several strips of flayed skin dangled from the fiend’s arms, and Falah was even worse off, with bulging swathes of bloody muscle visible where the skin had been ripped away.

“I am displeased,” Zuur’ka intoned, as Ghazaran drew out his healing wand yet again. “We were transported inside the stone crypts in the last tomb, where a fierce magic went to work upon us at once. There was no space within to move; fortunately I was able to transport myself out of the prison within a few moments.”

“And Falah?”

“He freed himself, although with more difficulty.”

“A devious trap,” the Seer noted. “Someone without the ability to teleport, or one less strong than our fighter here, would have been in quite an unenviable position.”

“Such devices would be most useful in Gehenna,” Zuur’ka said. “I shall have to investigate this magic some time in the future.”

“For now, we have the key, and a clear destination,” Ghazaran said. Taking the key from the Seer, the cleric crossed the room to the steel door. The key fit perfectly in the round lock, and after a few twists there was a loud click, and the door began to swing open.

The portal, once recessed into the doorway, revealed a round chamber beyond. The room was dominated by a circular shaft that descended straight down into darkness, for as far as they could see.

“How far does it extend?” Ghazaran said.

“Several hundred feet,” the Seer answered. “I can assist in getting us all down, but it will be more difficult coming up. There are handholds on the sides of the shaft, but it would be no easy ascent.”

“We will manage,” Ghazaran replied. “Use your magic to take us down.”

The wizard’s feather fall spell facilitated the descent, although there was a brief, terrifying moment before the magic took full effect. Zuur’ka floated above them, trusting in its own means of flight to traverse the shaft.

The shaft dropped them into a large cavern, seemingly of natural construction. There appeared to be several tunnels offering exit, but it was hard to see clearly, as a cloying red mist filled the place, swirling and twisting as if alive, though there was no breeze.

Ghazaran looked down at his hands. The red mists had already begun to condense on them, forming droplets of crimson like fresh blood. Looking at the others, he could see the color already beginning to seep into their garments. Soon, they would all be stained with it.

“Welcome to the Bloodways,” the Seer intoned, his voice sepulchral as it drifted out of the mists.