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Story Hour
The Ecology of the Destrachan (unpublished 3.0 version)
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<blockquote data-quote="Richards" data-source="post: 2279141" data-attributes="member: 508"><p>Shandrilla awoke in darkness and in pain.</p><p></p><p>At first she had no idea where she was or how she had gotten there. Certain things came to her immediate attention: she was wet; she was cold; there was a line of searing pain across her back. Only when she noticed the sound of the rushing water behind her did everything fall into place.</p><p></p><p>At once, she recalled her recent battle with the chuul: her paralyzation ploy that had worked so well against the carrion crawler failing miserably when she tried it on the lobster-thing; its serrated claw ripping through her weighted backpack and drawing a line of blood and pain across her back; being flung into the rapid waters of the underground stream while still under the effects of the chuul's paralysis; being helpless; being afraid; most of all, being sure that she'd never make it through this alive.</p><p></p><p>Well, she was alive all right, that was one point in her favor. On the other hand, she was wounded, lost, and unable to see a thing in the absolute darkness. And where were the others? "Javorik?" she called out hesitantly. "Federico?" There was no answer but the echoes of her own frightened voice.</p><p></p><p>"Oh great," she murmured to herself.</p><p></p><p>Shandrilla sat up with a groan and took stock of her situation. She still had her short sword and dagger in their scabbards on her belt, but that was about it. Her backpack was gone, and with it most of her gear. No rope, no hammer or pitons, no tinder box or torches...Hell, what was she thinking about? - no food!</p><p></p><p>Even without light, the stream was easy enough to find. She imagined the winding waterway had disgorged her along one of its sudden sharp turns, throwing her up onto a smooth, waterworn stone beach. Shandrilla cupped her hands and drank some water, doing her best to fill her stomach while she could - there was no telling how long before she'd get another chance to do so. She half considered entering the stream again and letting it take her where it would, but then realized it was less likely to take her back to the surface than it was to take her deeper into the Underdark. She shivered at that thought; she'd heard tales of the many evil denizens of the Underdark: the cruel drow, the vile mind flayers, the insane beholders, the wicked duergar. She had no desire to meet up with anything like that!</p><p></p><p>Drawing her sword with quivering fingers and shivering all the while, Shandrilla tiptoed through the lightless cavern, awkwardly feeling her way with an outstretched hand, praying she'd find a way back to the surface. Or, failing that, that she'd find her companions, or at least stumble across a lantern or a torch or even a candle so she could actually see what she was doing.</p><p></p><p>Unfortunately, Shandrilla didn't find any of those things.</p><p></p><p>But something found her.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Richards, post: 2279141, member: 508"] Shandrilla awoke in darkness and in pain. At first she had no idea where she was or how she had gotten there. Certain things came to her immediate attention: she was wet; she was cold; there was a line of searing pain across her back. Only when she noticed the sound of the rushing water behind her did everything fall into place. At once, she recalled her recent battle with the chuul: her paralyzation ploy that had worked so well against the carrion crawler failing miserably when she tried it on the lobster-thing; its serrated claw ripping through her weighted backpack and drawing a line of blood and pain across her back; being flung into the rapid waters of the underground stream while still under the effects of the chuul's paralysis; being helpless; being afraid; most of all, being sure that she'd never make it through this alive. Well, she was alive all right, that was one point in her favor. On the other hand, she was wounded, lost, and unable to see a thing in the absolute darkness. And where were the others? "Javorik?" she called out hesitantly. "Federico?" There was no answer but the echoes of her own frightened voice. "Oh great," she murmured to herself. Shandrilla sat up with a groan and took stock of her situation. She still had her short sword and dagger in their scabbards on her belt, but that was about it. Her backpack was gone, and with it most of her gear. No rope, no hammer or pitons, no tinder box or torches...Hell, what was she thinking about? - no food! Even without light, the stream was easy enough to find. She imagined the winding waterway had disgorged her along one of its sudden sharp turns, throwing her up onto a smooth, waterworn stone beach. Shandrilla cupped her hands and drank some water, doing her best to fill her stomach while she could - there was no telling how long before she'd get another chance to do so. She half considered entering the stream again and letting it take her where it would, but then realized it was less likely to take her back to the surface than it was to take her deeper into the Underdark. She shivered at that thought; she'd heard tales of the many evil denizens of the Underdark: the cruel drow, the vile mind flayers, the insane beholders, the wicked duergar. She had no desire to meet up with anything like that! Drawing her sword with quivering fingers and shivering all the while, Shandrilla tiptoed through the lightless cavern, awkwardly feeling her way with an outstretched hand, praying she'd find a way back to the surface. Or, failing that, that she'd find her companions, or at least stumble across a lantern or a torch or even a candle so she could actually see what she was doing. Unfortunately, Shandrilla didn't find any of those things. But something found her. [/QUOTE]
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