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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Plane Sailing" data-source="post: 224280" data-attributes="member: 114">Anne Maries early years spent in monk training under her mentor makes her best suited for spying, so she creeps quietly through the main doors, into a vast hall, cold and dimly lit by flickering torches. From corridors at the far side rings the sound of metal weapons clashing and harsh hooting and jeering. Bypassing the doors, and taking advantage of the shadows, she investigates the corridors at the far end of the hall. The first she tries has a door with a barred window at the end, and a stairway that spirals up into the tower. Checking out the other corridor reveals a mirror of the first.She peers through the barred window in the door and finds that she is looking into the ground floor of an ampitheatre – two wounded men are warily circling one another, while ranks of seats ascend up away towards the ceiling – many of which are occupied by... hobgoblins? No, it is something different... the creatures jeering and shouting as they watch the gladiatorial combat have horrible bat wings, and their goblin like faces have been distorted into muzzles filled with sharp teeth. It is almost as if hobgoblins have been horribly merged with something of dreadful, fiendish ancestry!Carefully she creeps up the stairwell, and after three turns of the stairs she can hear the moaning and crying of injured people coming from above. Peeping ever so cautiously up into the room she sees a chamber of horrors. Chained around the walls are villagers – men and women from the abandoned village – weeping and moaning, covered with painful cuts and bruises and crying out in agony every time a large, half-fiendish bugbear casually flicks out with his whip to increase their torment.Chilled, Anne Marie carefully slides back down the stairs to report back to her friends. Something has gone very wrong in the wizards tower since she was last here, five weeks – and fifty years – ago.</blockquote>

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