NOW LIVE! Today's the day you meet your new best friend. You don’t have to leave Wolfy behind... In 'Pets & Sidekicks' your companions level up with you!

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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Lazybones" data-source="post: 3151184" data-attributes="member: 143">Chapter 31BLOOD OF THE FALLENDar could do nothing to intervene as the worm seized the marshal—taking the fate that it had intended for him, he knew—and lifted him into the air.  The fighter did the only thing he could do, slamming the magical hammer hard into the worm’s body at the joint between two of its body segments.  The dense hide cracked under the force of the impact, but that didn’t stop the worm from swallowing its captive a few seconds later.  Dar knew that he would be next.  He could run, but he already knew that the worm could catch him.  The thing was a demon from the darkest pit, and it seemed invulnerable, too huge to seriously hurt.  But to Dar’s mind, the worm represented all of what Rappan Athuk had done to him, all of the vileness and horror and sheer evil of this place.  So he kept smashing at it.  His wild blows glanced off its body as often as they connected, but its body was already deeply indented at two places where the fighter had focused his attacks.  The worm was also showing other signs of heavy wear.  The centipedes had done considerable damage, and the last one was still worrying its flank on the far side.  And while Dar could not see it from his current vantage, Varo had done his share as well, pouring negative energy into its body from a pair of potent inflict wounds spells.  The fighter glanced over his shoulder, and saw the worm lift the limp form of the second centipede, shaking the destroyed vermin from its stinger.  Dar already knew how much that deadly spear hurt; his breastplate was caved in from the first hit he’d taken, and his chest burned.  It was likely that its poison was tearing through his bloodstream this very minute, slowly killing him.  “So be it,” he snarled, the words slurred.  He’d cracked his jaw when the worm’s initial charge had knocked him roughly down.  He could barely see the stinger, a black shaft in the surrounding darkness, but he tensed, knowing it was coming. The stinger appeared out of nowhere, darting so fast that there was no chance for him to focus on it and respond.  Instinct replaced thought, instinct and training that together brought the hammer around, backed by the fighter’s considerable, if depleted, strength.  The head of the hammer struck the sting, and shot the entire hard shaft with the force of a catapult into the worm’s body.  The rigid tip became a projectile that tore through thirty feet of worm, shredding tissue, before it lodged deep inside its body.  The force of its momentum was enough to knock Dar sprawling yet again.  This turned out to be fortuitous for the fighter, for the worm started gyrating madly, its body slamming onto the ground hard where he’d been standing a moment before.  The last centipede went flying, only to dissolve into wisps of nothing before it hit the ground.  Dar staggered to his feet and somehow managed to get free of it before it crushed him with its violent movements.  Retreating to the far side of the cavern, he saw Varo already there.  “The marshal?” Dar asked, knowing that the question was idiotic as soon as he asked it.  He’d seen the creature swallow Tiros, and for all the marshal’s determination, no mortal man could have survived that. “Dead,” Varo said, confirming what he already knew. They watched the worm as its death throes began to weaken.  It took the better part of two minutes for it to finally stop moving, and even then, its body continued to twitch as they approached it. “The sounds of this confrontation will draw every creature within a league,” Varo said, as Dar recovered his greatsword, and walked over to the body of the monster. “This needs doing,” Dar said, hacking a long opening in the creature’s body.  It took another minute; although it was easier to hit when it wasn’t moving, the worm’s hide was still incredibly thick.  But the fighter kept at it until he’d severed the worm nearly in two. It took longer for him to find what he was looking for.  As Varo watched, he dragged a heavy, limp form from the worm’s innards. The cleric came over to take a look, even though it was obvious that there was nothing that he could do.  Velan Tiros was barely even recognizable as human.  Acid from the worm’s stomach had eaten away much of the flesh covering his face, leaving a bloody mess.  “May your gods take you home, marshal,” the cleric said softly, as he laid his blanket over the dead man’s ruined face. Dar hadn’t lingered.  Another minute passed, until finally he emerged, himself looking rather the worse for wear, his clothes slick with the worm’s blood, and seared from the acids of its insides.  And holding Valor in his hand. “What about his magic glove?” Dar asked. Varo checked Tiros’s right hand.  “Destroyed.  And I don’t imagine we’ll get much from his pack, either.”  The cleric did find that the marshal’s magical throwing axe had survived his ordeal, so he handed that to the fighter.  Dar took the weapon, wiped some of the gunk from the blade, and calmly tucked it into his belt. Varo looked intently at the fighter.  “Are you all right?”Dar didn’t respond for a long moment.  “Let’s get out of here.  As you said, something else will probably come by and try to kill us any time now.”As if on cue, they heard noises coming from the direction of the main cavern.  Looking in that direction, they saw what looked like a light source approaching from around the leading edge of the cavern wall to the left. “Someone’s coming,” Varo said quietly. “Well, let’s go see what it is then,” Dar said.  Still holding Tiros’s magical sword, he and the cleric walked to the end of the worm, and waited.  They didn’t have to wait long.  The light source resolved into a burning flame that came from the end of a quarterstaff.  The staff was held by a man who was in the later years of middle age, by the look of him.  He was accompanied by a party of travelers, six in all.  Nearly all of them were clad in armor of black chain links, which tended to blend into the surrounding shadows, making it slightly uncomfortable to look at them directly.  Four were men, including the staff-bearer.  Two of the men were humans, heavily armed and carrying themselves with the air of trained warriors.  The last was a dwarf, a squat but muscled figure wrapped in a dark cloak, and carrying an odd black metal weapon that had an axe blade on one end, and a spear-head on the other.  The men surrounded a pair of women, both human, but otherwise of little similarity.  One was clad in black armor like the others, with short-cropped raven hair, and bearing a longspear among other weapons.  The other was fair, with shoulder-length hair so pale as to be almost white.  She too held a spear, a much shorter one, but unlike the other she did not carry a martial air about her.  If anything, she seemed to bear a deep abiding sense of peace about her, tinged with a hint of melancholy.  The party of newcomers caught sight of the worm and halted.  Varo remained silent, but Dar came forward, crossing his arms across his chest.  He still held Valor at the ready.  The members of the other party saw him.  The staff-bearer leaned over and whispered something to one of the men, a tall warrior with a longsword at his hip.  The six came forward, the expressions on their faces anything but friendly. “That’s far enough,” Dar said.  “What do you want?”The man that the staff-bearer had spoken to came forward.  “We have come for Marshal Velan Tiros,” he said.  For a few seconds a silence stretched out between the two groups.  Then, finally, Dar laughed, but it was a grim sound, thick with irony.  “Did I say something funny?” the warrior asked.  He seemed as tense as a coiled spring, and the others behind him were equally prepared for what looked like a looming confrontation.  “The gods hate us!” the fighter exclaimed, turning and throwing up his hands.  The newcomers shared a wary look, but Varo quickly came forward, and raised his hands in propitiation. “We are not your enemies,” he said to them. “Where is Tiros?” the warrior responded, his voice as sharp as a razor’s edge.  “Your friend holds his sword, and I warn you...”“He’s right over here,” Dar said.  He walked over to Tiros’s body, and pointed down to the corpse.  “Here you go.  Just in the nick of time, he’s still warm, even.  A little the worse for wear.”The six newcomers stared down at the body in silence.</blockquote>

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