The Realms of Enlightenment: The Grey Companions

[Jon Potter]

[Realms #391] An Old Friend

"Well, lads and lassies, where do we go now?" Karak asked as soon as the disembodied head drifted fully apart.

"Out would be good," Ayremac relied, looking toward the doorway that led back to Grandfather Plaque's chamber. Karak nodded his shaggy head.

"I must admit I am a might tired of these tests. I am ready to breathe the fresh air and see the wind in the trees," he said and then slapped a gauntleted hand to his forehead in disgust. "Oi! Now I sound like a gay faerie elf. I 'ave got to move on."

"I don't think that anyone will argue with you, Karak," Morier said with a nod. "Our time in this place is at a close, but our efforts here represent only half of our mission."

"Aye. I seem to recall that there be the little matter o' freein' Dridanna's heart," the dwarf said with a weary shake of his head. "I believe that that be on a different plane by the way." Huzair snorted derisively.

"Why does the path of adventure always have to take you to the planes?" he grumbled to no one in particular.

"We do what we must to save Orune," Ayremac observed. "The hero's journey is never an easy one."

"And I seem to recall that it was you who came to me asking if you could help," Morier reminded. "You picked this for yourself, Huzair."

"Garan-zak picked it for me, you mean," Huzair mumbled as he lit a cigar.

"What?" Karak demanded, cupping a hand at his ear.

"Nothing, just thinking that I need a fresh supply," the mage replied, holding up his stogie. Then his face brightened and he asked, "Hey we are going back for the short sword arent we?"

With one voice Morier and Karak shouted, "NO!"

"After all we have endured, you're still willing to prod the sleeping dragon?" Shamalin asked, dumbfounded. "And for what: a sword you'll never use?"

"She's right, Huzair. You already have a powerful sword," Ayremac agreed. "One that we suffered greatly to secure, I might add."

"Oh, come off it," the mage shot back. "We're not so bad off."

"Lela would not agree with you, I'm sure," Shamalin said gravely. "But perhaps you'd like to explain your position to Spot, here. I'm sure- What happened to Spot?!" They all looked around at their scattered gear but there was no sign of the cat.

"I've nae seen 'im since we entered through the Fire door," Karak said.

"I don't remember him being here when we returned," Ayremac added. "I just didn't notice that he was missing.

"Surely he didn't follow us into the Fire Test," Shamalin gasped looking at the door marked with the fire rune.

"Maybe he got burned up by one of Rafrarrl's fireballs," Huzair opined.

"Or maybe he went back into the Earth Test to be with Lela's body," Morier suggested, pointing to the door marked with the earth rune.

"Should we go and try to find him?" Ayremac wondered aloud and Shamalin looked stricken.

"Hell no!" Huzair answered, gesturing vehemently with his cigar. "If we are not going back to get the magic items we left behind we are certainly not going back for a kitty that did not even know enough to stay put when it should have!!" Karak sighed into his beard.

"Methinks the wizard has the right of it." the dwarf muttered sadly.

"You know I'm not one to take agreement with Huzair lightly, but I have to side with him on this," Morier added. "Too much is depending on our success for us to risk returning to the challenges."

"But Lela-" the priestess of Flor started and Ayremac laid a hand on her shoulder.

"Spot is a creature of the Green," he reassured. "Perhaps there is a place for him here in this place."



They gathered up all of their gear and lined up at the portal leading back to Grandfather Plaque's chamber. Stepping through one by one.



Karak was first, and he noticed at once that the chamber wasn't as quiet as it had been when they'd left. It was filled with a cacophony of chittering squeaks and the dwarf could see why at once; The recessed sections of floor to either side containing the pools that had at one time been used for purification were filled several feet deep, it seemed with rats. The creatures moved over and across each other forming a squirming carpet of rodent bodies.

"What the-?" Morier grunted as he stepped through, followed by Shamalin and the others.

"I'm sorry..." a cracked whisper sounded from the party's right. Turning they saw Grandfather Plaque, hanging askew in his spot beside the portal. The stone face had been chipped and scratched and gouged and his already lined and wizened face was a mad web of tiny cracks. "There was no way... to warn you."

"You have upset our plans," came a voice from across the room. The rats were surging up into a pile of writhing bodies at the far end of the central walkway, directly in front of the only door out. As the pile grew, the rodent squeaks became a horrible, rasping voice that clawed at the ears. Eyes that glowed with red fire watched them from the mass of rats. "But you have also done us a service. Give us the keys and you may yet live to see your loved ones once more."

 

[Burningspear]

*Bump, the future touching u again...lol, nice update

 

[Jon Potter]

*Bump, the future touching u again...lol, nice update

Thanks, Burningspear.

And I forgot to point it out, but that little bit with the characters finally noticing that Spot had disappeared was inserted in direct response to Psyke asking the same question about the animal companion. I hope that it brought a little smile to readers' faces.

 

[Hairy Minotaur]

"You have upset our plans," came a voice from across the room. The rats were surging up into a pile of writhing bodies at the far end of the central walkway, directly in front of the only door out. As the pile grew, the rodent squeaks became a horrible, rasping voice that clawed at the ears. Eyes that glowed with red fire watched them from the mass of rats. "But you have also done us a service. Give us the keys and you may yet live to see your loved ones once more."

Vermin Lord or Hivemind?

 

[Burningspear]

Vermin Lord or Hivemind?

hehe, neither?, Buttmunch at the hands of the players, Kick ass dudes and dudettes

 

[Jon Potter]

Actually, you're both wrong. It's a Demon Flock from Second World Simulations' book, Bodies and Souls: 20 Templates. They first encountered this critter way back when they were 4th level or so, before the arrival of Huzair, Ixin, Morier, and Karak. At the time, it was referred to as The Voice of Aphyx (or simply The Voice) by some werebats outside Strenchburg Junction.

It's a pretty tough customer.

 

[Blarkon Dragonslayer]

Yay! I remember that. It was when they were hanging around with that healer dude, right? Kept running back to his house all chewed up and diseased, and healing up there. Didn't Ixin show up (the first time) immediately following that?

Excellent way to bring back old badness to rudely assault the mighty adventurers!

 

[Jon Potter]

Yay! I remember that. It was when they were hanging around with that healer dude, right? Kept running back to his house all chewed up and diseased, and healing up there. Didn't Ixin show up (the first time) immediately following that?

That's the one! The Voice's arrival coincided with Kirnoth's disappearance.

Excellent way to bring back old badness to rudely assault the mighty adventurers!

I'm glad you approve.

Personally, I'm a huge fan of recurring characters (not just villains although they're always fun). It lends a sense of continuity to the game.

 

[Burningspear]

That's the one! The Voice's arrival coincided with Kirnoth's disappearance.



I'm glad you approve.

Personally, I'm a huge fan of recurring characters (not just villains although they're always fun). It lends a sense of continuity to the game.

Jup, if only the writing was more recurring, lol, hehehe, just being sarcastic.. showing we want more to read

 

[Jon Potter]

[Realms #392] The Next Step

"Oi. It seems we have different but just as bad forces at work 'ere," Karak grumbled. "Well there be no way we cough up the keys."

"Then you will die," the voice - a horrible amalgam of dozens of separate rat squeaks - told them. "Now!"

That was all the more Ayremac needed to hear. He summoned a Holy Smite down upon the rat swarm. Unfortunately it had absolutely no effect, sliding off the rats' spell resistance like oil dripped onto water. The chittering rats seemed to laugh at him from all sides as it retaliated with a spell of its own. A chaotic explosion of color tore down in their midst, energy leaping and ricocheting amongst the members of The Order.

Shamalin, Ixin and Karak were all injured by the assault to some degree, but Ayremac suffered the worst. The spell attacked the very nature of his being (or rather the being that he had transcended to) and the power of it seemed to rip at his very soul. A spray of blood exploded from his mouth as the raw stuff of Chaos Hammered at him. He felt his limbs stiffen as the power distorted reality around him, Slowing him.

Shamalin invoked a Magic Circle Against Evil and reached out a steadying hand to Ayremac. At her side, Morier (who had been completely uninjured by the rats' attack) felt Stoneblade's urgings and for once he agreed with the sword. As he had done in the Fire Test, he raised the weapon in a reverse grip and thrust it into the stone floor. The ground rumbled slightly and walls rose up along the edge of the raised walkway, curving upward to meet near the ceiling. The arched Wall of Stone extended from door to door, sealing the majority of the rats outside.

"Let's take Grandfather Plaque and get out of here!" the Eldritch Warrior urged.

"Oh, yes, I'd like that very much," the stone face wheezed, rock dust falling from the cracks in his face with every syllable.

"He'll never make it," Shamalin said, indicating Ayremac who was moving with the speed of a fly trapped in pine tar. Ixin took one look at him and thrust Shamalin aside, heaving the Officer of Umba bodily across her broad shoulders. She grunted and strain showed on her face as she stood beneath her new burden.

"Gethrisj!" she grunted, angling her head toward the far door. "Osvithkarif!"

"If ye said it be time ta deal death to this skaven scum, lass, I'd say ye're right!" Karak roared, charging the four rats that remained between them and freedom. He swung his waraxe in a massive two-handed blow that split the nearest rat and cleaved into the one beside it, ending its life as well.

Huzair had his Wand of Scorch at the ready, but in the tight confines of Morier's impromptu tunnel, there was no viable target. Irked, he started to put the slim device back into his bag.

"Are we ready to go?" Grandfather Plaque asked beside him.

"Looks like," the wizard agreed, looking up the tunnel to where Karak was chasing down the last two rats which were both fleeing like they were on a sinking ship.

"Then I'm ready to go too," the stone face told him. "Just grab hold of me and I'll let go of the wall."

After a few moments more they left the chamber with the sound of rats frantically clawing at stone reaching their ears from beyond Morier's wall. The horrible sound followed them out.



They threaded there way back through the complex and there were signs that intelligent life had been through the corridors after their own passing. It was nothing overt, but the feeling was inescapable never the less and it lent their flight an added level of urgency.

They paused only once and that was for Ixin to put Ayremac down and for Shamalin to heal him somewhat. Fortunately, the slowness that had gripped the holy warrior was short-lived and he was able to move under his own power for most of their retreat from Rake's hold.

It wasn't until they'd reached the chamber by which they'd entered the complex that any of them remembered that the portal seemed to be one-way only.

"Are we absolutely sure this is where we came in?" Ayremac asked. "It feels like we've been down her for a year!" Morier shook his head and pounded a fist against the wall.

"No, I recognize this room. This is definitely where we entered," he cursed. Raising his sword he added. "Maybe Stoneblade can cut us a door."

"Did someone say door?" Grandfather Plaque asked from the rear of the group where he was being carried by Huzair. "I'm quite good with doors, you know. Perhaps I can help." The stone face closed its eyes a moment and a smile spread across its cracked features. When it opened its eyes again a faintly glowing rectangle of light had appeared in the otherwise featureless wall. "There. That's better."

Without hesitation they stepped through one by one.



It was night outside, lit only by the glow of the Handmaiden Moon, and there was no sign of their horses. But none of them had any desire to remain too close to the cave leading to the complex that had been their home for too long and had become a grave for one of their number. They seemed to drink in the cold night air and the smell of pine trees and wet earth invigorated them such that they marched well into the night before electing to make a fire and set up camp.



Shamalin wound the cloth around Waveblade, as she had taken to doing to both protect and conceal the blade when she was not carrying it. Tucking it into her bedroll, she straightened. It felt good to be out of her armor. Not that there was no need for caution. In fact they now had more cause to be on guard than ever before. They had secured the keys that would one day free Dridana's heart. One leg of their journey was complete; a new one was about to begin. It was this fact that perplexed Shamalin and sent her away from the fire to think.

She found an area of soft pine needles and sat soundlessly. While they considered themselves successful, it had not been without significant loss. Immediately, the dark shadow of pain which was the Speckled Band welled up within her. If there was a time to part company with her current companions, it was now. Now that her debt was paid. Now before the ties grew any stronger.

She considered for some time which direction to take. She could not return to the temple. Sadness for the lost melodies that had once been such a driving part of her healing art there gripped her. Yet the ability itself was unchanged, and for that she thanked the goddess. To her infinite relief, the dark forces she imagined were governing her actions since her rescue from Blackheart's lair had amounted to no more than fears. She had not delivered the party into the hands of Aphyx.

She sighed, offering all the uncertainty in her heart up to her goddess. She would remain here, until she was instructed to do otherwise. The truth was, she really had no place else to go.