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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Goonalan" data-source="post: 3978911" data-attributes="member: 16069">Turn 7.7: Finally.“Damn- well I didn’t see that.” Grand Alf shrugs and gets on with eating his Magic Smash sandwich.“I still can’t believe it.” Saradomin shakes his head, he’s been let down in a bad way, his faith rocked- “BERT”, he shakes his fist at the ceiling of the chamber, “I HOPE YOU’RE SATISFIED…” The Priest of St. Cuthbert continues to mouth obscenities in the general direction of his deity.“So they know everything?” Aleso states, Jerky nods back.“What do you think he’ll have said about me?” Aleso strikes a chivalrous pose.“Not much, probably something about that thing”, Dartamor points at the Paladin’s ex-moustache, “it looks like your balancing a slug on your top lip.”“What? How…” Aleso fumbles for a mirror, admires himself and his singed toothbrush moustache.Jerky giggles and winks at the Rogue, who sighs and then winks back.“Come on let’s go and find them then.” Dartamor leads the Lost Boys off.The others fall in line and wander off through the northern door into another of the octagonal chambers stuffed with fungi, although much flattened in places, there’s another door out of the chamber, and it’s open.“This way.” Dartamor leads them quietly off down a dank and dark corridor.“I suppose we just have to do things differently.” Saradomin states.“What are you on about?” Jerky asks.“Well now they know our tactics then we need to change them, do things differently, perhaps when the time comes you…” Saradomin stares at Aleso, “could try running towards the enemy. They wouldn’t expect that.”“Right, that’s it.”Aleso throws his scimitar and shield on the floor- which makes quite a lot of noise.“If you say one more thing about my moustache then… I’m going home.” Aleso folds his arms across his chest.Saradomin grins.“I mean it.” Aleso stamps his foot into a puddle sending freezing cold foul water up and over his armour. “Aleso.” Dartamor’s voice travels down the line of now stationery adventurers in a whisper.“What?” Aleso whispers back.“Shut up and get to the front, it’s time for the smiting.”Aleso scrambles for his sword and shield and is at the front in seconds.“Look.” Dartamor points.The Paladin peers around the corner, “Wow!”Dragon-carved granite blocks tile the walls and ceilings of the chamber ahead, although many are crumbled and broken, creating piles of stony debris on the floor. A huge marble statue of a rearing dragon still stands in the curve of the western wall, some fifteen feet over. The eye sockets of the dragon are empty, but a red glow lingers there, providing reddish light throughout the chamber. The effulgence casts an inky shadow behind the statues wide wings. A crumbling 5-foot diameter circular red stone tile is inset in the floor in front of the rearing dragon carving. Runes are carved around the circular tiles inner edge.There’s an open door out of the chamber barely five feet away from where Aleso peers.“Cover me.”Aleso crouches low, weapons at the ready, “Oh Pelor hear my prayer, let this base scoundrel…”Dartamor turns back to stare at the Paladin, somewhat put out.“Sorry, let this stout yeoman, sorry yo-elf, come to no harm, let him not be set upon by a fiery dragon, singed to charred cinders his body indistinguishable from the foul trappings of this…”Dartamor has stopped again to stare back at the Paladin.“What?” Aleso enquires.“Can you perhaps not pray so loud?”The Paladin nods back, mouths the rest of his psalm.Dartamor is at the tile, he gives it a quick look and then steps on it- nothing happens. Runes circle the edge of the strange stone; they’re in Draconic, a language he is familiar with.Dartamor reads.“Ea serpenta rau kaluva nayawisti…”“Which means…” Dartamor begins, and then is suddenly engulfed in flame. The Rogue attempts to avoid the flamey gout but is caught in the spectral fire.“DARTAMOR.” Aleso yells and is in to the room swatting invisible foes, the other members of the Lost Boys spill into the chamber wondering what all the fuss is about.Dartamor steps out of the flame, which seems to come from the dragon carvings gaping maw, the flames abate the instant the Rogue emerges.He seems to shimmer, he looks somehow elevated, not taller, but more regal, stately, he carries himself differently, like someone used to being obeyed.“What do you think?” Dartamor effects a pose, his skin seems to glow, his complexion is clear, his teeth sparkle, his eyes twinkle, and his nose is aquiline and imperial, also his ears jut out a little less.“You look… are you using a new moisturiser?” Aleso asks.“Moisture…what?” Dartamor looks confused, and yet in command, it’s a difficult set of emotions to convey and yet the Rogue manages it with élan.“SHADOW.” Jerky suddenly screams, and leaps out of the room and into the next unexplored chamber.“What?” A chorus from the others, who haven’t moved.“Shadow” is the muffled reply, the Gnome is face down in a pile of sodden books and scrolls, he seems to have discovered the library- it’s a waterlogged ruin. “There are lots of shadows.” Saradomin states and looks about a bit, all the while edging closer to the red tile.The other members of the Lost Boys form a rough half-circle, weapons drawn.In the other chamber Jerky wrestles himself free of the pulpy mass- “a shadow, an Undead creature from the Plane of Shadow, a servant of the dark one”, the Gnome burrows back into the sodden paper.“What’s it look like… the Shadow?” Saradomin enquires.“The Dark who?” Aleso asks.And at that moment the Shadow appears, a black as hell spirit with two glowing red eyes, tears in the very fabric of its being, an ineffable damnation.“Does it look like an ineffable damnation?” Saradomin yells in Jerky’s general direction.“Yes”, comes the little-one’s muffled reply.“Check- got it.” Saradomin gives a thumbs up sign.“Do you feel that- either there’s a draft or it just got colder. Brrr.” Aleso hugs himself.The Shadow shrugs and then moves in for the kill. “I can’t see anything”, Grand Alf shouts, “are you having me on, is this some kind of prank?”DMs Interlude- the Shadow’s initiative roll was 4, that’s including the +2- now do you see my point?“I’ll deal with this.” Aleso takes a swig from the flame breath potion, then realises, mouth full, he no longer has the bottle in his possession.“Got’s gis?” Aleso reads the label on the flask, it says ‘Holy Water’, he shrugs and then blows a liquid raspberry at the Shadow engulfing the creature in a spray of holy spittle.The liquid steams and fizzes as soon as it touches the fiend’s shadowy form.“Bug-Ah.” It whispers and backs away swiftly.Aleso stands tall before it.“By the Light of Holy Pelor I banish back to the eleven hells from which you came foul nether demon, do not tempt me again for I am armed with the trusty scimitar of righteousousnessness-nessity, and the holy shield of… shielding, damn…”The Shadow has had enough, it surges forward a wave of terrifying darkness set to engulf Aleso.The Paladin swishes hopelessly and is duly engulfed.“I can’t see, light… light, please.”WHOOOOOOOOM“Arrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr…”“That’s better.” Grand Alf grins mischievously.Many things happen at once, the Shadow attacks the Paladin, who is struck by its icy claws which seem to pass clear through the Paladin’s armour, as does his sword, straight through the Shadow that is. Furthermore the Paladin is swathed in a cloak of darkness as the dark spirit flits at terrific speed around him, looking for another point of attack.It’s at this point that Grand Alf casts a light spell, ostensibly at the Shadow.DMs Interlude, and rolls a 20.The Shadow now glowing like the Angel on top of the Christmas Tree loses it, at present the thing is flitting crazily about in the upper reaches of the chamber, like some Halloween moth that still hasn’t realised that the glowing thing it is chasing, or as in this case- trying to get away from, is itself.“Come on.” Jerky screams.The Lost Boys admire the display for a while longer until the light winks out as the Shadow seems to pass into the stone ceiling above.“Pretty.” Aleso comments, and stalks after the others.Leaning and completely fallen stone bookshelves fill this chamber, though a clear path connects to an open wooden door opposite. The litter of torn and burnt pages, bindings, and scrolls form disordered sodden piles all over the floor.Jerky heaves the door shut.“Quickly, let’s get on, the Shadow may be back.” Jerky heads over to the far door.“Hang on, just hang on; are you suggesting we just leave that thing in there?” Aleso puts his hands on his hips, his ‘I’m a little teapot’ pose.“Yes, no time.” Jerky is out the chamber, “come on.”Saradomin smiles, “Dartamor?”The Rogue looks up; he’s rifling the shelves, looking for anything salvageable, “yep.”“Have you still got one of them Climbing Potions?”“Yep.” The Rogue continues to check the library out.“Excellent, I think I have a plan, we’ll need the Potion, Bernard and a Magic Weapon Spell- which I will of course provide.” Saradomin’s grin spreads to ear-to-ear.Jerky collapses to his knees in the corridor, then begins to thunk his head into the dirty stonework of the passage.Next Turn: Hambush.</blockquote>

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