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<blockquote data-quote="Lazybones" data-source="post: 3112041" data-attributes="member: 143"><p>Thanks for posting, Mahtave! Glad to hear that folks are still reading <em>Travels</em>. I hope to keep you, HugeOgre, Richard, and all my other readers content with more Rappan Athuk hero-crushing goodness. </p><p></p><p>At least for as long as the current roster holds out. <img src="data:image/gif;base64,R0lGODlhAQABAIAAAAAAAP///yH5BAEAAAAALAAAAAABAAEAAAIBRAA7" class="smilie smilie--sprite smilie--sprite2" alt=";)" title="Wink ;)" loading="lazy" data-shortname=";)" /></p><p></p><p>* * * * * </p><p></p><p>Chapter 19</p><p></p><p>A SURPRISE FOR AMBRO</p><p></p><p></p><p>The ogre loomed over Varo, and while it had expected trouble on the far side of the door, it took it a second to notice the cleric standing right beside it. </p><p></p><p>That brief moment was enough for the cleric to reach out and touch the ogre on the hip, and unleash an <em>inflict serious wounds</em> upon it. </p><p></p><p>The ogre let out a terrible cry as negative energy coursed through its body, ravaging it from the inside out. The monster reached out and locked a meaty fist around Varo’s neck, yanking the cleric off the ground. Dar and Tiros were already rushing forward, but the ogre was quick to handle the priest, hurling him into the corridor wall to its left. Fortunately Varo hit the wall at an angle instead of head-on, but the impact was still considerable, and he fell hard to the ground ten feet away, somewhat the worse for wear. </p><p></p><p>The ogre turned back to the onrushing warriors, and it brought down its heavy club as they entered its reach. The pair dodged, and the weapon slammed harmlessly into the floor between them, albeit with enough force to crack the ancient stone.</p><p></p><p>The fighters struck at almost the same instant. Tiros’s thrust with <em>Valor</em> hit the ogre’s thick belt of layered hides, and failed to penetrate. But it distracted the ogre slightly, and that was enough for Dar to slice its leg open to the bone with his own attack. Blood exploded from the terrible wound, and as the ogre turned to face the second fighter, the crippled leg collapsed under its weight. The ogre fell forward, and it was helpless to stop Dar from driving a killing thrust into the back of its neck. </p><p></p><p>Tiros looked through the open door, and saw a shadowy figure already vanishing beyond the radius of his torch. “There goes another one,” he said. </p><p></p><p>“I’ll get it,” Dar said, stepping over the dead ogre. </p><p></p><p>“No,” Tiros said, grabbing onto him before he could dart through the door. “There could be more of them, and Varo’s down.” </p><p></p><p>“If there’s more of them, they’ll be back here soon enough,” Dar said, shaking himself free of Tiros’s grasp. </p><p></p><p>“Yes, but we can fight them on ground of <em>our</em> choosing.”</p><p></p><p>Dar grunted, but didn’t offer further protest as he went to help Varo. The priest, it turns out, was more dazed than seriously hurt, and a <em>cure</em> spell quickly brought him up to full strength once again. </p><p></p><p>“We probably don’t have a lot of time,” he said. “We should get ready.”</p><p></p><p>* * * * *</p><p></p><p>Ambro was in a sour mood. </p><p></p><p>The ogre was not one for introspection, but he could not help but feeling that he was being slighted. He had managed to construct a mental picture of his kin deeper in the dungeon being lavished with gifts of gold and magic and elf heads, while up here, where was Ambro? Watching rats and ghouls and that crazy human. Ambro regarded Marthek as filthy and wild, which was something, given the ogre’s own challenges when it came to hygiene. But he’d seen the human take down another ogre once with a single blow of his club, and that was something to respect, at least. Ugmo had been a real prick, and he’d had it coming when he taunted the madman, but it was still something to see a little human knock down an ogre several times his size, and even more to see the ogre not get up. Some of Ambro’s fellows had wanted to get some payback after that incident—and Ambro had wanted to get his hands on that club—but the priests had given strict orders that the human was not to be touched, so the ogre had to swallow his indignation and pass on the word to his troops. </p><p></p><p>But Ambro was no common ogre. Deep inside what passed for a brain, he had a sour suspicion that he was being denied the grandeur to which he was entitled. He felt he was already stronger than old chief Mahrg, who had led his tribe into this place, this pit deep within the ground that went on and on and on. Mahrg had promised that service to the Great Demon Lord would bring them wealth and power. It hadn’t brought much to Mahrg except an early grave. If they’d still been in the world above, Ambro might have succeeded Mahrg as chief, but here, in the Dungeon of Graves, there were only rats and ghouls and madmen. </p><p></p><p>This morning he’d had his troops count their last pay ration that had come up from the priests. Ambro had come to suspect that the priests were cheating them. Ogres weren’t very adept at counting, so the operation had already taken several hours, and looked like it wasn’t going to be completed any time soon. Utto, who’d always been pretty clever for an ogre, had suggested lining up the copper coins in rows on the floor. That had taken a while, but the problem of actually counting the coins remained. Since the average ogre couldn’t count past five, all of their efforts thus far had come to naught. Utto, something of a prodigy, had once counted to eleven, but Ambro had suspected that the ogre, a little smaller than the rest of them, had some orc in his ancestry. </p><p></p><p>Ambro was getting pretty frustrated, so he felt some relief when Grutz rushed back from his patrol to report that an army of knights had entered the dungeon, and had hacked Zukar to pieces over by the dirt room. The ogre actually smiled as he picked up his greatclub. </p><p></p><p>Ambro felt like smashing something. </p><p></p><p>* * * * * </p><p></p><p>The corridor door exploded into a spray of wood splinters and iron fragments. Some of the latter hit the far wall with enough force to embed into the stone. </p><p></p><p>A huge ogre stepped through the new opening. It looked down at the corpse lying on the ground. The ogre lay face down on the stone, a pool of its own blood spreading out from the terrible wounds in its leg and neck. Footprints in blood—human-sized footprints—led away from the body, over to the nearby door to the east. The door to the dirt room was open slightly. </p><p></p><p>The ogre moved forward, letting several other ogres into the passage behind it. It pointed to the footprints, and grunted something in the harsh Giant tongue. </p><p></p><p>The ogres—there were four in all, massive, ugly brutes, armed with huge clubs and crude javelins—readied their weapons eagerly. The one that had fled before was in the rear, in the position of shame. Its attention was focused on the leader, so it didn’t see the door to the storeroom back in the passage behind it open silently. </p><p></p><p>“Hey, ogre!” </p><p></p><p>The ogre turned around, just in time for a ceramic jar to strike it solidly in the middle of its face. The ogre jerked back, stunned, as a sticky green goop splattered over its face. It reached up to pull the stuff off its eyes, but only succeeded in smearing the slime around more, and coating its fingers to boot. </p><p></p><p>Then it started to scream. </p><p></p><p>“Don’t like that, do ya?” Dar yelled. He hurled his other jar at the second ogre as it pushed past its suffering companion, but the throw went wide, and the jar smashed on the ground behind it, splattering gobs of green slime across the corridor. </p><p></p><p>The ogre lifted a javelin and hurled it at the fighter. Dar tried to dodge back, but the missile clipped his right arm just below the shoulder. An inch to the left and the hit would have taken off his arm; as it was, the impact spun him around and nearly knocked him down. Blood sprayed from the wound as the javelin landed on the ground a few feet further down the corridor. </p><p></p><p>“Get in here, Dar!” Tiros yelled from the storeroom. The other ogres were slowed as they tried to avoid the spattered slime on the floor, and their suffering companion, but the big one in the rear was shouting at them now, trying to force his way through. </p><p></p><p>Dar lurched toward the door, and through it. As soon as he was clear, Tiros slammed the door and used Dar’s club to pound a dagger into the jamb. “Are you all right?” he said to Dar, as the fighter tore off a strip of cloth and hastily tied it around the bleeding wound. </p><p></p><p>“I’m fine,” the fighter said. Varo was on the other side of the room, facing the door, but he did not move to help the injured warrior. </p><p></p><p>Tiros had another dagger ready, and was about to reinforce the door when something hard crashed against it. The door buckled but barely held. Dar and Tiros retreated to flank it, drawing their swords. Tiros looked at Varo and nodded, but the priest was already lost within the intricacies of a spell. </p><p></p><p>The door was hit again, and this time came crashing down off its hinges. An ogre stepped forward into the room, looking for enemies. </p><p></p><p>As soon as it cleared the threshold, Dar and Tiros struck. This time it was Tiros who scored blood, as he stabbed <em>Valor</em> deep into the ogre’s side. The ogre yelled and turned toward the marshal, which caused Dar’s initial attack to glance off its hides and miss wide. Angry yells came from the other ogres in the hallway; the first one was blocking the door. </p><p></p><p>An explosion of red mist drew the ogre’s attention back to its front. The cloud dissipated within a second, revealing a large, ferocious ape. The creature resembled an oversized gorilla, but its eyes glowed faintly crimson, and a smell of brimstone hung about it. The summoned creature gave up three feet and several hundred pounds to the ogre, but it didn’t hesitate, leaping at the giant and tearing with its claws. The ogre, caught by surprise, reared back. It bashed the ape with its club, but it didn’t get its full strength behind the swing, and the ape’s fiendish resistances allowed it to weather the blow.</p><p></p><p>Another shout came from the outside passage. The ogre in the doorway tumbled forward, pushed hard from behind; it stumbled and fell, still tangled with the ape. Another ogre, the hulking leader, stepped forward into the crowded space. </p><p></p><p>Once again, Dar and Tiros struck. With the ogre flanked, it could not effectively defend against both attackers, and this time both swords bit deep into its body. Even an ogre would have been hard-pressed to absorb that kind of damage. </p><p></p><p>But Ambro was not a common ogre. </p><p></p><p>With a roar, the giant smashed the haft of his club into Dar’s face. The fighter staggered back, stunned, blood pouring down his face from his broken nose. There was nothing he could do as Ambro brought the club around in a follow-up swing that crushed into Dar’s chest, knocking him roughly back into the wall. For a moment he just stood there, pinned against the hard stone by the force of the impact, and then he pitched forward, landing face-down on the bare stone floor.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Lazybones, post: 3112041, member: 143"] Thanks for posting, Mahtave! Glad to hear that folks are still reading [i]Travels[/i]. I hope to keep you, HugeOgre, Richard, and all my other readers content with more Rappan Athuk hero-crushing goodness. At least for as long as the current roster holds out. ;) * * * * * Chapter 19 A SURPRISE FOR AMBRO The ogre loomed over Varo, and while it had expected trouble on the far side of the door, it took it a second to notice the cleric standing right beside it. That brief moment was enough for the cleric to reach out and touch the ogre on the hip, and unleash an [i]inflict serious wounds[/i] upon it. The ogre let out a terrible cry as negative energy coursed through its body, ravaging it from the inside out. The monster reached out and locked a meaty fist around Varo’s neck, yanking the cleric off the ground. Dar and Tiros were already rushing forward, but the ogre was quick to handle the priest, hurling him into the corridor wall to its left. Fortunately Varo hit the wall at an angle instead of head-on, but the impact was still considerable, and he fell hard to the ground ten feet away, somewhat the worse for wear. The ogre turned back to the onrushing warriors, and it brought down its heavy club as they entered its reach. The pair dodged, and the weapon slammed harmlessly into the floor between them, albeit with enough force to crack the ancient stone. The fighters struck at almost the same instant. Tiros’s thrust with [i]Valor[/i] hit the ogre’s thick belt of layered hides, and failed to penetrate. But it distracted the ogre slightly, and that was enough for Dar to slice its leg open to the bone with his own attack. Blood exploded from the terrible wound, and as the ogre turned to face the second fighter, the crippled leg collapsed under its weight. The ogre fell forward, and it was helpless to stop Dar from driving a killing thrust into the back of its neck. Tiros looked through the open door, and saw a shadowy figure already vanishing beyond the radius of his torch. “There goes another one,” he said. “I’ll get it,” Dar said, stepping over the dead ogre. “No,” Tiros said, grabbing onto him before he could dart through the door. “There could be more of them, and Varo’s down.” “If there’s more of them, they’ll be back here soon enough,” Dar said, shaking himself free of Tiros’s grasp. “Yes, but we can fight them on ground of [i]our[/i] choosing.” Dar grunted, but didn’t offer further protest as he went to help Varo. The priest, it turns out, was more dazed than seriously hurt, and a [i]cure[/i] spell quickly brought him up to full strength once again. “We probably don’t have a lot of time,” he said. “We should get ready.” * * * * * Ambro was in a sour mood. The ogre was not one for introspection, but he could not help but feeling that he was being slighted. He had managed to construct a mental picture of his kin deeper in the dungeon being lavished with gifts of gold and magic and elf heads, while up here, where was Ambro? Watching rats and ghouls and that crazy human. Ambro regarded Marthek as filthy and wild, which was something, given the ogre’s own challenges when it came to hygiene. But he’d seen the human take down another ogre once with a single blow of his club, and that was something to respect, at least. Ugmo had been a real prick, and he’d had it coming when he taunted the madman, but it was still something to see a little human knock down an ogre several times his size, and even more to see the ogre not get up. Some of Ambro’s fellows had wanted to get some payback after that incident—and Ambro had wanted to get his hands on that club—but the priests had given strict orders that the human was not to be touched, so the ogre had to swallow his indignation and pass on the word to his troops. But Ambro was no common ogre. Deep inside what passed for a brain, he had a sour suspicion that he was being denied the grandeur to which he was entitled. He felt he was already stronger than old chief Mahrg, who had led his tribe into this place, this pit deep within the ground that went on and on and on. Mahrg had promised that service to the Great Demon Lord would bring them wealth and power. It hadn’t brought much to Mahrg except an early grave. If they’d still been in the world above, Ambro might have succeeded Mahrg as chief, but here, in the Dungeon of Graves, there were only rats and ghouls and madmen. This morning he’d had his troops count their last pay ration that had come up from the priests. Ambro had come to suspect that the priests were cheating them. Ogres weren’t very adept at counting, so the operation had already taken several hours, and looked like it wasn’t going to be completed any time soon. Utto, who’d always been pretty clever for an ogre, had suggested lining up the copper coins in rows on the floor. That had taken a while, but the problem of actually counting the coins remained. Since the average ogre couldn’t count past five, all of their efforts thus far had come to naught. Utto, something of a prodigy, had once counted to eleven, but Ambro had suspected that the ogre, a little smaller than the rest of them, had some orc in his ancestry. Ambro was getting pretty frustrated, so he felt some relief when Grutz rushed back from his patrol to report that an army of knights had entered the dungeon, and had hacked Zukar to pieces over by the dirt room. The ogre actually smiled as he picked up his greatclub. Ambro felt like smashing something. * * * * * The corridor door exploded into a spray of wood splinters and iron fragments. Some of the latter hit the far wall with enough force to embed into the stone. A huge ogre stepped through the new opening. It looked down at the corpse lying on the ground. The ogre lay face down on the stone, a pool of its own blood spreading out from the terrible wounds in its leg and neck. Footprints in blood—human-sized footprints—led away from the body, over to the nearby door to the east. The door to the dirt room was open slightly. The ogre moved forward, letting several other ogres into the passage behind it. It pointed to the footprints, and grunted something in the harsh Giant tongue. The ogres—there were four in all, massive, ugly brutes, armed with huge clubs and crude javelins—readied their weapons eagerly. The one that had fled before was in the rear, in the position of shame. Its attention was focused on the leader, so it didn’t see the door to the storeroom back in the passage behind it open silently. “Hey, ogre!” The ogre turned around, just in time for a ceramic jar to strike it solidly in the middle of its face. The ogre jerked back, stunned, as a sticky green goop splattered over its face. It reached up to pull the stuff off its eyes, but only succeeded in smearing the slime around more, and coating its fingers to boot. Then it started to scream. “Don’t like that, do ya?” Dar yelled. He hurled his other jar at the second ogre as it pushed past its suffering companion, but the throw went wide, and the jar smashed on the ground behind it, splattering gobs of green slime across the corridor. The ogre lifted a javelin and hurled it at the fighter. Dar tried to dodge back, but the missile clipped his right arm just below the shoulder. An inch to the left and the hit would have taken off his arm; as it was, the impact spun him around and nearly knocked him down. Blood sprayed from the wound as the javelin landed on the ground a few feet further down the corridor. “Get in here, Dar!” Tiros yelled from the storeroom. The other ogres were slowed as they tried to avoid the spattered slime on the floor, and their suffering companion, but the big one in the rear was shouting at them now, trying to force his way through. Dar lurched toward the door, and through it. As soon as he was clear, Tiros slammed the door and used Dar’s club to pound a dagger into the jamb. “Are you all right?” he said to Dar, as the fighter tore off a strip of cloth and hastily tied it around the bleeding wound. “I’m fine,” the fighter said. Varo was on the other side of the room, facing the door, but he did not move to help the injured warrior. Tiros had another dagger ready, and was about to reinforce the door when something hard crashed against it. The door buckled but barely held. Dar and Tiros retreated to flank it, drawing their swords. Tiros looked at Varo and nodded, but the priest was already lost within the intricacies of a spell. The door was hit again, and this time came crashing down off its hinges. An ogre stepped forward into the room, looking for enemies. As soon as it cleared the threshold, Dar and Tiros struck. This time it was Tiros who scored blood, as he stabbed [i]Valor[/i] deep into the ogre’s side. The ogre yelled and turned toward the marshal, which caused Dar’s initial attack to glance off its hides and miss wide. Angry yells came from the other ogres in the hallway; the first one was blocking the door. An explosion of red mist drew the ogre’s attention back to its front. The cloud dissipated within a second, revealing a large, ferocious ape. The creature resembled an oversized gorilla, but its eyes glowed faintly crimson, and a smell of brimstone hung about it. The summoned creature gave up three feet and several hundred pounds to the ogre, but it didn’t hesitate, leaping at the giant and tearing with its claws. The ogre, caught by surprise, reared back. It bashed the ape with its club, but it didn’t get its full strength behind the swing, and the ape’s fiendish resistances allowed it to weather the blow. Another shout came from the outside passage. The ogre in the doorway tumbled forward, pushed hard from behind; it stumbled and fell, still tangled with the ape. Another ogre, the hulking leader, stepped forward into the crowded space. Once again, Dar and Tiros struck. With the ogre flanked, it could not effectively defend against both attackers, and this time both swords bit deep into its body. Even an ogre would have been hard-pressed to absorb that kind of damage. But Ambro was not a common ogre. With a roar, the giant smashed the haft of his club into Dar’s face. The fighter staggered back, stunned, blood pouring down his face from his broken nose. There was nothing he could do as Ambro brought the club around in a follow-up swing that crushed into Dar’s chest, knocking him roughly back into the wall. For a moment he just stood there, pinned against the hard stone by the force of the impact, and then he pitched forward, landing face-down on the bare stone floor. [/QUOTE]
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