The Stepchildren of Fate (Updated 6/3)

[htetickrt]

(Truly) Bazaar and Not So Common​

Danek wakes well before dawn, bloodshot eyes showing the strain of dark and troubled dreams. Seeing all the others asleep, she pads over to Dobi’s corpse. There she stands for the next hour, frowningly contemplating the halfling’s existence and its sudden cessation, before exhaustion finally overcomes her and she is forced to take her dissatisfaction to bed.

Kai, having awoken with a start at the barbarian’s return to her bedroll, notes the direction of Danek’s thoughts and signals her own awareness with a long, sad sigh for the little bard. “We'll get him on his feet again soon,” she says as reassuringly as possible, though without much hope of success, to Danek.

The barbarian merely grunts and closes her eyes; Kai contents herself with hugging her familiar closer and quickly returning to sleep.

The night moves on; Cerridwin interrupts its quiet to go trolling for affection. Andy turns him away, pleading a headache. As the satyr storms away, the confused monk wonders yet again how she got to be here. As usual, her questions are not answered. Sleep proves an easier quarry.

Finally it is morning, or at least would be if the sun could penetrate earth and stone to reach this dark place. Andy tries to continue her slumber, but cannot maintain it so close to Steve’s angry stomping.

“It would be just a rental on the slippers, Steve. They really do go better with my outfit than with your coat.” Steve snorts and turns away, effectively ending the discussion. Quid sighs good-naturedly.

Andy yawns and stretches, quite unconscious of the effect this has on the tortured satyr. Ignoring his decidedly unsubtle looks, she sidles over to Rhien as the monk watches Trella wrap Dobi’s body in cloth, all the while speaking words in a foreign tongue. When she starts waving mistletoe, Andy can no longer hold hers.

“Do you think she’s doing anything?” the halfling inquires.

Rhien, ever patient, answers, “In what sense?”

“I mean, that looks like mumbo-jumbo. In the army they had priests, you know, but mostly they were there for morale. Big on the talking, but not so much with the magic.”

“Trella is very wise. I am sure her actions have a purpose.”

“But she’s like a teenager,” Andy whines, “And sooo hot.”

“All wisdom is not encased by white hair and wrinkled skin, Andy. Trella has experienced much in her short life.”

Khail drifts by as he buckles his armor. “Plus, we were magically altered a couple of times.”

Rhien smiles. “Yes, that too. But look, she’s done. It’s time to go, Andy.”

The halfling cannot suppress an audible gulp as she contemplates what that is likely to mean.

******************************

“The web is a mess.” Trella scratches under her arm in irritation.

With only her shoulders and head visible above the carnage in the barracks hallway, Andy is more than a little on edge. “I’m not staying here!” she cries shrilly. “We have to find a way down!”

Khail peers over the edge of the chasm. “Relax, little one. Steve can ferry us all to the bazaar.”

The mighty warhorse stamps a hoof and looks at Quid meaningfully before doing just that. Quid accepts a ride without comment.

****************************************

Unlike the confined space of the barracks, the main expanse of the bazaar occupies—or occupied—a huge natural cavern. A ledge about ten feet off of the ground runs the length of the northeastern wall, and some half-dozen doors are set into the wall beyond the ledge. The cavern’s ceiling is twenty feet high, giving Steve the welcome ability to stretch his neck for the first time in a day.

Though this bazaar has clearly not operated at full capacity for many years, until recently it looks to have been occupied by a few Underdark denizens trading their wares. Now, however, all that is present are the sickening remains of creatures pounded into pulpy messes.

Trella, ignoring the ripe odor, runs over to the nearest grouping of gore and kneels at its side. A quick examination of the bodies is all it takes for the experienced tracker to deduce the circumstances of the creatures’ demise, details she gleefully shares with the rest of the party before anyone can even ask.

“My boys did this,” she exclaims happily. “Look, there’s a squashed mind flayer, and a couple of pack lizards, and three duergar, and two sentries.” Skipping further into the room, she spies additional bodies. “Hey, and over here there are two of those ice storm dropping drow, and a couple more sentries. All beaten into chunky salsa.”

Quid and Calla are amused by her enthusiasm, but are already gathering goods from the mushy pile. The former comments, “Not only that, but no one came to collect anyone’s stuff. That means we’ve made a dent in their defenses. They’re waiting for us to come to them, which gives us a tactical advantage.”

Trella looks sourly at her. “Tactical, smactical. Hurry up and gather the rest of the stuff; I want to see what else my boys did.”

Judging by the flattened bodies of arachnids littering the interiors of the nearby warehouses, their next task was to kill spiders. Only a trio of black oozes survived the elementals’ passing, and these are easily dispatched by Kai and Lenara or, more precisely, their wands of lightning.

The amorphous beings guarded a pair of doors, apparently untouched by Trella’s boys. This earns caution in their examination, which immediately pays dividends as Calla discovers a magical trap on the rightmost one. After disarming this—and taking a half-bow, half-curtsey to celebrate her handiwork—she backs away to allow the party to see what’s beyond the portal.

Khail pulls the door open, releasing an unspeakably vile stench into the warehouse. Combining the worst elements of decaying flesh, refuse, and waste, the odor is sufficient to send Buttercup running back to the outer room. Apparently, the big guy doesn’t like bad smells, surprising behavior from a half-orc indeed.

Peeking in, Kyree sees a fetid pool of slime glistening in the center of the small chamber that is revealed. Around it, a number of amorphous shapes can be seen twitching, and within it, something glows with a sickly violet light.

Cerridwin shouts, “Wait! One of those tentacled things from before is in there too!”

Lenara fires off a lightning bolt into the room before Trella can stop her. Not only does the electricity leave the presumed roper unharmed, but the only effect it has on the amorphous shapes is to double their number. Trella explains, “Those are ochre jellies; they’re immune to weapons AND electricity. The roper’s immune too.” Lenara moves sheepishly away. Khail slams the door shut.

Kai smiles and motions at the portal. “Anyone thinking what I’m thinking?” On the same wavelength thanks to long association, Khail waits for Kai’s signal and then pulls the door open as the sorceress releases a fireball into the enclosed space. The paladin slams the door shut immediately afterward, but Kyree’s elven eyes pick out the death of two-thirds of the jellies before his view is blocked.

After Kyree conveys this information, Kai shrugs. “Again?”

The paladin grins—still an odd sight for those who have known him long—and opens the door once again. Though the roper is ready, Kai beats it to the punch, and her blue-green force missiles eliminate the last of the jellies. Eager to get in on the act, Lenara mimics the sorceress’ actions, sending off two projectiles of her own.

Injured but not dead, the roper manages to ensnare Kai with two tentacles, but cannot make her succumb to weakness. Khail easily severs both with the blade now in his hand, and Lenara earns the kill with another volley.

Calla cautiously enters the room once she is sure the monster is dead, examining the pool through narrowed eyes. “This must be some dirty drow trick,” she half-whispers, half-snarls, and no one sees fit to disagree.

“It’s a symbol of some sort,” she mutters, backing away when nothing overt happens.

Khail moves forward excitedly. “Let me see; I like symbols in stone.” Kai and Trella share a look.

“Oh, it’s just Ghaunadar.” Khail seems disappointed. Perhaps to cheer him up, Lenara offers the explanation that this must be a secret shrine, hidden to prevent persecution by the locals. The paladin perks up a bit.

Calla mutters, “Whatever…stupid drow,” and unearths a small bit of monetary treasure hidden in a pair of clay urns. With the room clearly devoid of other interesting details, the party moves on.

**************************

“Do you see this?” Trella points at the smashed watch post and beams. “My boys did this.”

“Yes, we figured that,” Quid says distractedly as she picks through the bodies of the dead drow for usable goods.

“They killed all the spiders back there too.” Trella will not be denied.

“Your boys were outstanding,” Kai replies wisely.

“That’s all I’m saying,” Trella finishes.

Kyree cocks his head to one side as he stares at the broken structure. “Has anyone else noticed that almost all the drow guard posts are devoid of chairs and tables? Their devotion is impressive.”

Buttercup looks at him strangely; Calla makes gagging noises.

Trella eagerly urges the party on down the next passageway, her botanist’s eye taking in the green phosphorescence dancing along its walls as it opens into a huge cavern. Stretching for hundreds of feet to the east, the floor of the latter is broken into a myriad of ledges and tilted slabs, many covered with carefully cultivated weird fungal growths. Others sport bulbous houses or cottages seemingly grown from giant toadstools, and these finally give the druid pause as she beholds the destruction wrought upon them and their inhabitants by her summoned elementals. Broken drow bodies spill from shattered windows and lie sprawled among the mushroom fields in equal measures, and the structures themselves exhibit sufficient damage so as to make most if not all unsafe for the return of any survivors of the carnage.

Trudging through the wet fields, the party discovers that not all the drow have been slain; a small number of commoners peek out from the sides of intact houses, watching the large, well-armed group with a mixture of hatred and fear in their dark eyes. Trella ignores them, stopping instead at the body of a well-muscled drow that has been stripped clean of clothes and personal effects. With his head caved in, it doesn’t take an expert to figure out that the elementals took care of this drow as well, and Calla lets out a loud whoop while fingering her dagger and glaring at the onlookers. Trella has to take her by the arm to get the rogue to move on.

Kyree, ranging ahead, points out a manmade ford in a stream that blocks the way ahead. Before crossing, Khail makes a quick trip to the north, where he discovers a heavy, swinging iron grate barring a passage that stretches to the northeast, into the darkness. A huge padlock holds the barrier closed. Khail withdraws an iron key he found earlier, and is not surprised that it fits the lock perfectly. The paladin files away the passage for future use and returns to the group.

The ford is easily crossed, and leads to a region much like that on the other side. More drow bodies lie sprawled in front of an eight-foot-high wall that divides the cavern in two, all stripped of their possessions. A few feet behind them, on the other side of the mortared fieldstone, a large undead spider has been pummeled into a paste. Trella can’t hold back a snicker. Snicker narrows his eyes at her.

The passage loops around to the northeast, eventually opening up into a vast cavern with a ceiling that rises more than a hundred feet from the uneven ground. Stalactites and stalagmites jut from ceiling and floor, occasionally joining to form a solid column. Dense patches of phosphorescent fungus grow in various locations throughout the cavern, illuminating the whole area in a soft purple light. Several beasts resembling small cattle or yaks roam about a stone-walled enclosure beside a large, dark lake.

From this oddly pastoral scene emerge a ragged band of thirty goblins, an equal number of underfed bugbears, two stone giants—one of which looks to be injured—and a burly bugbear clad in leather armor. The last addresses the party in crude Common. “Put down weapons. No need to fight. We work together to take over city? Or we kill you like we kill your two big rocks.” The stone giants visibly bristle at this pronouncement but do not contradict it. Trella glares at the impudent bugbear, anger blooming redly across her tanned face.

 

[Jeremy]

'All beaten into chunky salsa.'

Heh.

 

[htetickrt]

Sorry for the long delay between posts; I had an accident with a Cutco knife while cutting bread and had a bit of trouble typing for a bit. Stupid unnecessarily sharp knife. Anyway, this one is short, but I hope it provides an amusing insight into the group's dynamics. Certainly they amused me.

Entrance to the Inverted Tower​

While the druid fumes and heroically attempts to stifle a retort, Quid steps to the fore, unable to resist the lure of any potential barter, even with a bugbear slave.

"Well met, tall friend,” she says, addressing a stone giant with a nasty welt under his eye. “An alliance does seem like it would be of mutual advantage. We have heard of your immense prowess in helping take this city. But, how are we to trust you who were recently our enemy? What are your plans for after the city is taken, and how do you want to divide the spoils?"

The giants, confused by the attention, defer to the bugbear who earlier addressed the group. There is a very long pause as he tries to digest Quid’s words. Eventually he says, "Yes. We very powerful. Take city. Kill, uh, kill many drow. Your enemy. Now we kill rest."

Rhien coughs and gently nudges Quid. He whispers, "They didn't help take the city. It was the other one, deeper in the Underdark. Or rather a different group of creatures helped take that city. Maerimydra I believe it is called. These seem to be slaves, perhaps liberated by Trella's elementals."

The bugbear apparently has sharp ears, and he snarls at the monk. "You know nothing. We no slaves. We strong, make drow do what we want. You need our help or you get killed, pale things. We get half of stuff; you get other half. Fair. We fight. Grrr! You fight. Phlump. We better. But we help. Ugh; you speak dumb. Make head hurt. Argh!"

Quid rolls her eyes and turns away from the bugbear. “Let’s just attack the inverted tower. The wizards there are probably the toughest foe we’ll face, so we should do so at maximum strength. Unless that big gate Khail found leads somewhere promising.”

“It leads to the Underdark,” Calla says with certainty. “We shouldn’t go down until we’ve killed every drow here. They’re sneaky buggers, and we shouldn’t leave any behind us.” Her eyes gleam eerily as she speaks.

Kai shudders involuntarily. “Um, of course. I’m going to go speak with the bugbear now.” Her approach speaking in the humanoid’s native language of goblin is greeted with enthusiasm, and the two begin an animated discourse that only ends when Trella arrives and pokes Kai in the shoulder with her index finger.

"Not to interrupt," the druid says, "but if you're done chatting with Hairy-head over there, would you mind letting us in on the details? More importantly, did my boys kick some bugbear ass?"

Kai laughs and turns around to face Trella, switching to elven smoothly. "Sorry; the bugbear is a lot smarter than he seems. Not actually smart, but not an idiot either. His name is Thulk, and from what I gather he's the head of the slaves. Some of your elementals got to here and engaged the stone giants, of which there used to be three, before finally being defeated. These slaves were the beneficiaries of that. Ordinarily they'd have tried to kill us already, but it seems that twelve heavily armed adventurers who control huge elementals are scary enough to get them to talk. Thulk claims he can help us get rid of the rest of the drow if we split the spoils with him."

Quid pokes her head in. “How about a language I can understand?” Thus begins a round of translation that amuses and confuses Thulk, and brings everyone up to speed. All except for Andy, that is, who knows only Common and so cannot be safely updated. This makes her sad, so she begins to sing. Cerridwin, feeling empathy, paws her crassly. Several people feel vaguely ill as a result.

Kai shudders a second time. “I don't know about you guys, but for my part I doubt this gang will be helpful enough to pay off. Maybe we could send them in one direction while we go in another? Although in that case they'd be sure to send us the more dangerous way. Shall I tell them we don't need help and see what they offer?” She repeats her words several more times in different languages, and contemplates a new career in the foreign service.

Quid maintains that “sixty ground troops and two giants should not be dismissed, especially if we use them properly. Ideally, we'd have a day, and I could alter my spells so that we could properly take them into battle. But we can use them as cannon fodder, and back them up like special forces, Afghanistan style. I imagine attacking the wizards to be a dangerous proposition, but we send them in for a frontal assault, and then supplement with our protection spells, ranged attacks, flight, and dispelling magics. The Maztican resisters were much easier to subjugate…er, I mean liberate, once we began pitting them against each other.”

Calla starts. “Afwhat’s it whoosit?”

The Waukeenar rubs the back of her neck. “Look, you guys didn't listen when I said it would be bad sleeping in the barracks, which is fine, but I think this opportunity is too great to waste. Acquisitions 5 Why fight a war when you can get someone else to do it for you?”

Rhien looks distressed by this and turns to Quid. “There are only forty of them, and I can’t say I like outfitting them to die. I’ll have no part of this. When you’re ready to move on, I’ll be watching the chasm.” The monk walks off.

Kai raises her hands defensively. "Whoa, I didn't think it was good to sleep in the barracks, but as I said at the time, I thought they would attack us no matter where we went unless we teleported far away, and I didn't want to waste the spells teleporting back the next day. Steve's really heavy. Plus, now we've gotten some of their powerful people out of the way, rather than having to attack them in well-defended positions. But anyway, regarding our potential allies here, I agree that extra hands are always helpful. I'm just raising the question of whether their help is worth the price they're asking. You'd know the answer to that question better than I do, Quid, so you can decide and I'll pass the word along accordingly."

"I'm sorry, dear Kai," quickly replies Quid, "I had not meant to impugn your judgment. I do suppose except for dear Dobi, (may his soul nap in peace)," Quid makes a brief sacred gesture, "things did work out rather well last night.

"In terms of sharing the booty, if you put it that way, that's another story. Sending them off to attack on their own would have the same problem though. Perhaps they can accept other terms, such as one quarter of the gold, and half of the items, but we choose which items. They perhaps need us more than we need them, thus we should press our bargaining advantage. I am also worried about where they go afterward. Replacing rampaging drow with rampaging bugbears and giants is not necessarily the ideal resolution to this mess."

Kai turns to the bugbear to propose this split. He looks shifty before finally replying with a question of his own, dutifully relayed back to the group by Kai. "He wants to know what they would have to do. I don't think they'll really go for it if we tell them straight out that we want them to go first. Though that would certainly settle the question of what most of them would do afterward."

Quid nods. "Yup, well, that was also always part of my calculations. While I have a deep respect for all of Toril's creatures, the loss of a few goblins and bugbears would not be a tragic one, and would indeed solve the other problem as well. Tell them that we would teach them superior battle tactics, and transform them into an efficient fighting force that will attack with devastating power, so that when we direct them into battle, they will overcome any foe. And perhaps hint that the fewer of them left at the end, the fewer people they will have to share the treasure between. But that may not be a good idea."

Kai shrugs noddingly and/or nods shruggingly. "Okay," she says, turning to the bugbear and translating this idea into goblin.

Thulk's brutish face softens, apparently taken in somewhat by Kai's natural charisma. After a brief exchange, Kai turns back to the group and reports, "He's not buying the whole 'turn them into a potent fighting force' idea, but he is surprisingly willing to work with us. This is likely a combination of his understanding that we have killed many drow, and his ignorance about what fills the rest of the outpost. I think we could get them to accompany us to the inverted tower for about a quarter of found treasure, if we wanted. I don't think he'll go much lower for fear of losing face. And the giants might be problems."

Trella says something decidedly Quid-like. "Tell them we could throw in discretionary bonuses for particularly impressive acts. We could also have them keep track of drow casualties and for every five verified kills add 0.5% to the monetary treasure dividends for the mighty giants or whatever." She shrugs.

Kai passes this along, altering the wording slightly so as to be more easily understood. She turns back to the group after a brief discussion with Thulk, saying, "Okay, they've agreed to a quarter of all treasure found, with bonuses to Thulk and the giants depending on the number of drow killed. Now they want to receive all that training we promised before we take them down to the inverted tower."

Kyree volunteers to teach them archery. Upon noting their lack of bows, the ranger contents himself with showing them what they're missing out on with a brilliant display of skill.

Quid shrugs a “don't look at me” shrug. "Damn it, I'm a doctor not a drill sergeant. I make the offers for other people to do the work. Dobi would have loved to do the training, a self stylized Marquis de Lafayette, dilettante general…ah well.” She trails off.

After a moment of thought, Quid continues, “How about equipping them with random and cheap gear from the dead drow? Of course, we’ll take that out of their cut, plus interest. One of you martial types could arrange them into squads of eight or so, each squad surrounding one target, run them through some small formation tactics, teach 'em to bull rush and grapple especially if regular attacks aren't penetrating, to hold their attacks to disrupt spell casters, to initiate attacks by a charge, and to stay spread out to avoid area effect spells.”

This penetrates Calla’s studied insanity. “You’ve got to be kidding.” The diminutive rogue pulls a disturbing length of cracked drow femur from a pocket and begins to whittle it as she wanders off.

Khail points at the bag of holding that Quid now carries and says, “There aren’t any cheap weapons in there. I for one am not comfortable with giving them masterwork or enchanted weaponry and armor. They are evil, and will revert to their base nature. We’d be better off tying them all to trees and leaving food for them to eat.”

Quid sighs and throws up her hands. “Whatever. You’re the muscle.”

Trella takes the bugbears and the giants to one side, expecting others to teach the goblins. She demonstrates simple quarterstaff and sling techniques as she assumes that finding sticks, stones, and slings suitable to arm and equip this misfit bunch would not be impossible. Though obtaining these implements proves more difficult than she imagined, the druid is not wrong, and ably fabricates rough weapons out of some of the tougher mushrooms and assorted farming detritus. This takes nearly two hours, a time matched by the length of the training that Trella provides after the weapons are crafted. Eventually she ends her instruction—more out of annoyance than any real sense that progress has been made—and reconvenes mini-camp with the goblins.

The smaller goblinoids, now armed with rocks in a vain attempt to emulate Kyree, join their smelly selves to the larger stench. Trella moves upwind, and encourages the rest of the party to do likewise. She doesn’t have to make the suggestion twice.

**********************************

“My nose feels assaulted,” Calla comments, “they smell worse than drow turd.”

Quid moves to respond but wisely thinks better of it.

“We’re just lucky that they bought our reasoning for their going first. I wasn’t keen about allowing them behind us,” Kai interjects.

Trella shushes the trio. “There are problems with going first as well. Look.” She gestures towards an octagonal room formed from walls of smooth, black rock that is presently packed with panicking goblins enmeshed in webbing. “It seems they were ready for us.”

Khail advances boldly. “I’ll handle this,” he proclaims while striding into the passage, putting him in position to see the two drow—spitting images of Raphael—who step out into the opposing archway to view the commotion. The paladin’s presence offers a different interpretation to those about to label this a surprising slave revolt, and they react accordingly.

As the rest of the group forces its way into the press of bodies, a new drow suddenly appears, floating effortlessly over the goblins. Rakishly handsome in his half-opened purple shirt that billows in the swirling air currents, he takes in those present with a keen eye. Apparently deciding that the disturbance is of little consequence, he brushes a loose white hair back behind a fine gold headband and straightens his black cloak cavalierly before addressing those assembled.

“Now, now, let’s not be hasty here. While you could undoubtedly slay my guards, should you choose to engage me you will meet an untimely end. If I, Solom Ned’razak, archmage of Szith Morcane for over two hundred years, can see fit not to exterminate you as the insects you are, surely you can stay your rash hands for a moment. It may mean your lives.”

Idly playing with a single gold hoop in his left ear, the mighty mage waits for a response.

 

[htetickrt]

Since I foolishly triple-posted the last update, I thought I'd post a couple of my additions before the new update below. This one is Solom's muscle: a dominated Troll fighter/barbarian.

Smurgh: Male troll Ftr8/Bbn1; CR 14; Large giant; HD: 6d8+8d10+1d12+120; hp 233; Init +3; Spd: 40 ft.; AC 24, touch 10, flat-footed 24; Atk +25 2 claws (1d6+13/19-20 x2) plus +20 bite(1d6+5); SA rend (additional 2d6+18 if both claws hit); SQ scent, regeneration 5, DR 10/-, fast movement, rage 1/day; AL CE; SV Fort +21, Ref +7, Will +4; Str 32, Dex 16, Con 26, Int 7, Wis 10, Cha 5.
Skills and Feats: Listen +16; toughness, roll with it x5, combat reflexes, power attack, weapon focus (claw), weapon spec (claw), improved crit (claw)

Usual magic active during combat: magic circle against good, maximized empowered endurance, magic vestment (+5), protection from fire, mind blank, dominate monster

Stats while buffed and raging:
AC 27 (29 vs. good); hp 308; Atk +25 2 claws (1d6+15/19-20 x2) plus +22 bite(1d6+6); SA rend (additional 2d6+21 if both claws hit); SV Fort +26, Will +6 (+2 to all vs. good); Str 36, Con 36. Rage lasts for 21 rounds.

Possessions: half-plate, ring of counterspelling (harm).

 

[htetickrt]

Here is Bargh, Solom's man-at-arms. I decided he'd be a spiked chain master, as a partial explanation for the weapon's widespread use among the arcane guards.

Bargh: Male half-ogre ftr10/bbn7; CR 18; Large giant; HD 10d10+7d12+68; hp 179; Init +5; Spd 30 ft.; AC 36, touch 13, flat-footed 35; Atk +27/+22/+17/+12 +2 unholy shocking spiked chain (2d4+14+(1d6 electricity) + (2d6 unholy vs. good)/19-20 x2); SQ rage 2/day, darkvision 60', uncanny dodge; AL CE; SV Fort +19/+9/+10; Str 24, Dex 13, Con 18, Int 13, Wis 14, Cha 9.
Skills and Feats:Climb +27, Listen +22, Swim +27, Intimidate +19; Combat Expertise, Dodge, Mobility, Spring attack, Whirlwind attack, Weapon Focus (spiked chain), Weapon Specialization (spiked chain), Improved Critical (spiked chain), Improved Trip, Improved Init, Power Attack, Cleave.
Possessions: potion of haste, demon armor, +4 animated large steel shield, ring of protection +2, cloak of protection +3, 3 potions cure crtical wounds, +2 unholy shocking spiked chain

Bargh is usually protected by a mind blank and drinks a potion of haste before combat. When thus buffed and raging, his stats become:
AC 38, touch 15, flat-footed 37; hp 213; Atk +29/+29/+24/+19/+14 +2 unholy shocking spiked chain (2d4+17+(1d6 electricity) + (2d6 unholy vs. good)/19-20 x2); SV Fort +21, Will +12; Str 28, Con 22; Climb +29, Swim +29. Bargh can rage twice each day for 9 rounds each time.

 

[htetickrt]

Here's the last episode of active discourse before the bloodshed begins. I've posted a couple of enemies' stats in the previous two posts as a teaser.

Deal with a Drow​

Kai pauses a moment before answering, "We're listening," without raising her voice.

Solom smiles, revealing brilliantly white, perfectly straight teeth. "Excellent. What I offer is a simple deal. You, no doubt, desire an end to the raids on the surface. I can supply this. I desire an end to endless uninspired theocratic rule. With my aid, you can supply this. When the priests in power are no more, and I rule Szith Morcane, I will make sure that no drow trouble your surface realms.

"So, do we have a deal?"

Quid snaps back, “Not so fast Mr. Pretty Boy. I have a few questions. Also, perhaps as a show of good will, you release the web that surrounds us?”

Solom narrows his eyes, but remains calm after Quid's decidedly undiplomatic display. "If I release the webbing, the slaves you have stolen will make a mess of my foyer. Regardless, I see little reason to return stolen property to you. You have already destroyed enough of my city as it is."

“Why should we trust that you would honor your terms?” the Waukeenar snaps back.

"My part of the bargain will be accomplished before you take any further risk yourselves. The only party who will need to trust the other is I. You are trustworthy, are you not?"

"What exactly would be required of us?”

Solom chuckles mirthlessly. "I am ever wondering why anyone would covet the surface realms, when the horrid sun is so apt to fry the brain. You are to kill every priest left in Szith Morcane, whether she follows the Spider Queen or the Pale Lady. Is that simple enough, or are visual aids required?"

Quid retorts, “There doesn't seem to be much of Szith Morcane left to rule over, so why bother?”

Solom’s voice dips into a dangerous growl. "My motives are not your concern. They are as beyond your comprehension as your puerile meanderings are indecipherable to the rats that gnaw your boots in the night."

Quid is undeterred. “Of course stable governments are always best for markets to flourish, but…"

Solom cuts her off. "Do you find your own voice amusing, Waukeenar? For I do not."

After Quid's heated exchange, Trella takes the floor, placing a calming hand on the priest’s shoulder. "Hi, uh, Mr. Ned-razak, is it? Anyway, name's Trella, not that you care, but we have a prior agreement with members of House Morcane and have pledged to help them rid their ancestral home of the followers of the White Banshee who invaded it. Of course you know that. But, see, we are honorable people and cannot enter into an agreement that would violate our preexisting promise; you may use magic to scry my intentions if you doubt my words. I just want to clarify our position because you asked whether or not we are trustworthy, and the answer is yes; even if it means having to fight to our certain deaths, we keep our promises and won't betray members of House Morcane. Me personally, I have no problem ridding you of what seems to be a sizable headache, but we need to be clear on the limits."

Andy, standing nearby, can barely keep her teeth from chattering.

Solom sneers. "House Morcane is dead. Their foolish priests were slaughtered like cattle when Lolth went silent and the rest fled like the cowards they are. I am not of that House, nor am I a T'sarran or allied with their cult of the White Banshee. You need not fear breaking any prior oath through dealings with me."

Kai returns to an earlier assertion. "You claim you can put an end to the raids immediately. What proof of this will we have?"

Solom's mouth twists into a smirk. "You won't see any more raids."

Kai boldly ventures, "True—not from down here, where we'll be fighting clerics, we won't."

"Expecting to take a week fighting priests, do you? Perhaps I should offer this deal to the slaves."

Kai purses her lips. "Not good enough. Suppose you tell us who is carrying out the raids and what power you have over them."

"The raids were ordered by the T'sarrans. When they are dead, they cannot order additional raids. I have no interest in your sun-scorched excuse for a civilization, so I will not be continuing the practice."

Kai considers this. "And you will hold this outpost against other chaos-loving servants of the Banshee, should they come in the future? We have heard that they are gaining power elsewhere in the Underdark."

The archmage shrugs. "Either I will or I will be dead. In either case your outcome is optimal."

The sorceress turns to her companions with raised eyebrows. "What do you guys think? I'm tempted, but remember I wanted to leave the mages alone in the first place."

Quid concentrates, calling upon her faith to discern Solom’s motives. She quickly determines with it that the archmage is not actually there, however; an image is holding court with the party.

Frustrated, she announces to the projection, "I would be more than happy to deal with you Mr. Pretty Boy, but I am still not clear what we get out of this deal. You want us to kill the priests we find so that they will stop raiding, and all we get is your sovereignty over the entire outpost. It does not seem like a balanced trade, does it?"

"Not if you conveniently leave out pieces of it, Waukeenar. I help you kill the priests, as I said. You would not succeed on your own. Further, since you were clearly planning on attempting to extirpate every drow with whom you came into contact, all I require is that you leave my tower, and any remaining slaves and commoners, alone. Frankly, you should do this without my aid, as you face certain death at my hands should you choose to test your pitiful might against mine."

Quid groans. "That's the part I was wondering about. Duh. What kind of help?"

Solom reverts to his earlier sneer. "You'll find out when you need to, Waukeenar. Suffice it to say, it will be with something you could not possibly accomplish yourself."

Quid presses on, "Also, hasn’t it been your boys on all these hunter-killer groups we've been dealing with? Like that chubby fellow that helped kill my friend? Why the sudden change of heart?"

"My boys? The T'sarran control their 'teams' and determine their makeup. I aid them minimally to stave off annoying interference in my work. I would prefer to keep my students here, in training as they should be. My heart has not changed."

"Finally, I believe Trella's concern was that you asked us to kill all priests we find, but we would be obliged not to kill members of Morcane that we may or may not come across."

"And I replied that House Morcane is dead. Really, you should learn to pay greater attention when your betters speak. There are no living members of it in this outpost; hence, there will be no conflict of interest for you.”

Solom’s image smoothes its shirt. "I grow tired of this back and forth. Make your inevitable decision so that I may return to my work in peace."

Trella replies, both to Solom and to Kai’s earlier question, "Our foremost goal in this excursion was to stop the raids. If agreeing to help ghost boy here will further that agenda, then I say we do it. Can't wait to see what he provides us by way of help."

Andy reluctantly nods and whispers, "Do whatever will keep him from getting upset with us."

Calla barely restrains a murderous desire to separate the archmage’s guards from their heads. She says in a strained whisper, "I, for one, don't trust him," and then retreats into shadow.

Kai adds, "We can ask him to spell out what he'll do for us. Heck, we could even ask him to give us back his slaves. I don't really mind either way, so the final word is up to you guys."

Danek frowns, knowing diplomacy isn't her strong suit. Kyree adjusts his stance in frustration, but says nothing.

Rhien gazes darkly at the mass of goblins. "I didn't like training them, but now that we have I don't believe it's right to hand them back to the drow."

Quid shrugs. “‘Mergers 5 The enemy of my enemy is a sucker.’ We might as well use what resources are available. Then perhaps we leave our goblin horde here to watch over the tower while we seek the other drow. I will not condone the institution of slavery.”

More thoughtfully, she concludes, “I agree with Calla though. Be very aware of treachery….”

Trella nods. “We’ll put it to a vote, but I want the slaves freed as a term of the deal.” She, Andy, Kai, Quid, Lenara, and Rhien come out for some variant of the bargain. Calla is strongly opposed, maintaining her position in the darkness. Kyree stares at the goblin horde with narrowed eyes, wanting entirely too much to shoot them all. Cerridwin stands still, her very existence freaking out several other party members. Danek stays out of the discussion. Khail debates morality with his steed, and gets nowhere. Dobi remains deceased. Buttercup’s head hurts.

Trella proclaims, "Sorry, Calla, looks like we're making this deal."

The slaves mutter restlessly while they are the topic of discussion. They relax a bit when Trella makes it clear that she wants them freed as part of the deal.

Solom responds calmly, "The slaves are not your property; they belong to the city, which is to be mine. If you desire them freed, you must provide adequate recompense. I consider this separate from the deal at hand. However, if you cannot perform the same mental trick, I will accept fifty gold per goblin head, 100 per bugbear, two thousand for each giant, and three thousand for their leader. These prices are non-negotiable, but you may purchase fewer than the full quantity of slaves."

Kai gives a thin smile. "As you point out, the city is not yours yet. These creatures are currently the property of the T'sarrans. As you decline to elaborate on how you will help us, surely you understand our desire to use every asset at our disposal to defeat our mutual enemy. You may take possession of the city after we have succeeded."

Solom's answering smile matches Kai's. "I applaud your attempt, but it is insufficient. As the archmage of Szith Morcane, I have the right to utilize the city's slaves in any way I desire. They are useful in their fashion, and if I were to lose them I would require compensation. If you indemnify me for their potential—or should I say, nearly guaranteed—demise at the hands of the priests, then that would be sufficient as well."

Before anyone can respond, Thulk makes his displeasure known. "You promise to train us, not kill us or bring us back to drow! We leave now!"

Solom chuckles. "And where will you go, little slave? These people have upset the delicate balance you once kept, and most of those still loyal to you are trapped here until I desire their release."

The archmage taps his index finger against his lips thoughtfully. "No, I think you shall stay here. With such wanton destruction through most of this city, I shall need guards of the more mundane sort to keep the riffraff out until I can repopulate the outpost. You will do nicely, or provide food for those who will do better."

Solom turns back to the party. "Or, your payment will allow me to acquire a more competent staff. Your choice, but make it quickly. My patience grows thin."

Quid retorts, "Though I am morally against the trucking and bartering of intelligent life, I acknowledge the legitimacy of your system of property rights. However, given the recent collapse of order in Szith Morcane (under your watch), I see no reason to abide by them. So I think we should take them with us. It is not in your interest to try to stop us."

Solom scowls. "Pray tell, how does your miniscule intellect lead you to that conclusion?"

Before she can respond, the drow crosses his arms in front of him. "This discussion is leading us nowhere. MY slaves will be staying with me unless you decide to buy them. You may have my aid in disposing of the remaining T'sarran priests, IF you agree to my terms. Otherwise you would be well advised to fly from here, as my patience with your prattling is nearly exhausted."

Rhien's brown eyes are hard as he glares at the archmage of Szith Morcane. "This is not right," he whispers. "Against my better judgment we trained them to fight. We cannot simply abandon them to this fiend."

Calla emerges from the shadows snarling, her face a feral mask of hatred. "He's no worse than the rest. The drow should be extinguished, every one of them."

Danek mutters, "If we want to fight this guy, I don't mind. But why do it over a bunch of goblins? They probably won't be that much help." She leaves unsaid that she doesn't think she herself is that helpful in most battles.

Trella massages her temples as the argument's back and forth takes its toll. To the increasingly annoyed mage, she says, "Okay, let me offer a compromise." To Thulk, she says, "He is correct, even with your training, you are likely to be killed as we lay siege to the priests. You may not believe me, but this place may be safer for you in the short term. I have not lied to you and am not doing so now, so please trust me."

Before he and the other slaves can go crazy, she turns back to the archmage, "We will pay you as much as we can afford now, and return with whatever more is necessary as full compensation for the slaves. Consider the money a down payment on the whole group as well as a gesture to show our good faith in honoring both our bargains with you. In return for our gesture, I ask that the slaves be treated well, provided food, shelter, and safety. As some of them are our property, and the rest will be our property in a short time, we will expect that our interests will be served to the best of your formidable abilities in our absence. This should satisfy you, seeing as you will end up with sufficient funds to purchase slaves more to your liking."

Smoothing out her robes, she exudes serene calm. "Do we have a deal, or should we resort to messy, and needless, fighting? Clearly you can see the lengths we are willing to go to in order to honor a promise?"

The mage inclines his head. "Very well. My nonnegotiable price for all the slaves is 9,500 gold. I will accept half that now, with the other half due upon completion of the rest of the bargain. In the meantime, I will keep them safe."

Calla interjects her thoughts, hissing, "Are you all mad?! We're paying thousands of gold to free goblins and bugbears from this fop and worse, trusting in his honor to keep a bargain? Drow have no honor. Do we need his help this badly? Perhaps I have misjudged you all." The halfling skulks off.

Thulk looks distressed as he figures out what's going on. He whispers conspiratorially, "Little one right. You should no trust drow. You leave us here, we die. Pay for us to be free, or sneak back fast and kill mage. Only way to be safe."

Quid says, “I agree with Calla. I am hesitant to leave them here, to place so much trust in this drow, and to expend so much capital on his distasteful enterprise.” Turning to face the archmage, she adds, “I dislike the arrogance in your tone, Mr. Pretty Boy. However, if the group does insist that he should be paid, I offer that we pay half now and take the goblins and bugbears with us. I will pledge to the fair lady herself that we will return with the other half. Of course Thulk, the money would come out of your share.” She says the latter under her breath.

Solom is displeased at Quid's tone, but says through clenched teeth. "Fine, take the simpering slaves if it means I don't have to listen to your prattle any more. The money is due upon your return, whether or not they die in your assault. It is your responsibility to free them from the webs."

Khail, looking unhappy about the whole exchange, shrugs at this. "No problem." The paladin pushes past the rest of the part, waves his blade…and the webs vanish as if they never were. The freed goblins nearly crush him in their haste to leave the mage's demesne.

Quid queries Thulk about additional slaves, her eyes gleaming at the promise of a glorious slave rebellion. His response is less than encouraging, though, and she abandons such grandiose notions as she pays for the slaves’ freedom.

Solom grins wickedly as he watches the goblins shove each other to escape the tower. “Meet me at the entrance to the home of House Morcane. There I will provide my promised aid.” The image vanishes after he finishes his orders. Trella herds the slaves out and down, bringing them to perhaps the most dangerous level of the outpost: the lair of Dorina T’sarran.

Solom is already there, standing near the front of the room and idly tapping a wand into his palm. “I was wondering when you would arrive,” he says, rather predictably. “I was beginning to fear you were sent hurtling to your deaths in the waters far below by your precious slaves.”

Several goblins spontaneously acquire ‘We could have done that?’ looks, but these are immediately squelched by the reactions of some of the more irate party members.

Quid steps to the fore, relishing her role as irritant. “So Mr. Pretty Boy, what is this help you promised? Are you going to expose more of your chest to scare away the priests?”

Solom scowls. “Your voice makes me almost favor the cult. Almost, but not completely. This entire area was protected by a powerful forbiddance cast by Dorina T’sarran herself. She is the daughter of Irae T’sarran, and a mighty priest in her own right, and your puny magics would have had no chance to counter her spell, leaving your pitiful band divided and weaker than it already is. I have eliminated it, allowing even worthless goblins to traverse holy ground.

“In addition, I shall also provide a small measure of information. The ladder in front of you is one of eight identical ones, placed at equal intervals around this level. All ascend to the Fane of Lolth. I would advise you not to explore that region until after eliminating all opposition below.

“There is only one entrance into the central region of this level, through a makeshift temple to Kiaransalee reached through a double door to the north. I advise you to avoid that portal, instead passing through the now-empty guard post nearby. This will allow you to destroy the coffins of at least some of your vampiric foes before facing them, giving you an advantage in the battle. There is a passage through the guard post to the rear of the temple. I give no guarantees as to which approach is preferable.”

Solom nods his head slightly. “I have given my promised aid. Now you must hold up your end of the bargain.”

Unwilling to let him leave so quickly, Quid says, “How do we know you did anything? There might never have been a forbiddance.”

Solom smirks. “You will have to trust me.” Before anyone else can speak, the archmage is gone, without word or gesture.

Pleased to be free of him, Trella tries to push the slaves to go deeper into the level. They will have none of it, though, and huddle in the corner of the entrance. The druid sighs heavily and moves into the next room, ignoring the spiderweb ladders that lead into the fane as she passes into a room bare save for two pairs of manacles on the wall.

Khail enters a moment later. “Occupied?”

Trella shakes her head negatively. “One was, but neither has been for a while. See these marks? It looks like someone struggled for quite a long time to get out of these.”

Rhien enters, eyes narrowed to points. Deliberately avoiding the manacles, he moves into the chamber to the south. Here eight coffins lie in state on the floor. Behind them is a row of counters and cupboards that have obviously been well ransacked. Some of their doors hang open; others have been broken off. There are cuts in the countertops, and most of the shelves have been pulled out.

Rhien aims to visit a similar level of destruction upon the coffins, smashing them repeatedly with his enchanted gloves. Khail and Trella join him soon after, and eventually Andy and Danek get into the act as well. The violence is oddly therapeutic.

Calla, who had silently gone off to scout, returns as the last of the coffins is no more than tattered shards of wood. “I would caution you to be quiet, but it looks like we’ve been expected,” she says. “Most of this level—outside of the doors leading to the temple—is deserted, but I could hear the faintest sounds of movement through the doors themselves. Sounded like a half-dozen or more clumsy feet, and an equal or greater number of quieter folks. They clearly are waiting for us.” Her eyes gleam eagerly in the torchlight.

 

[Jeremy]

AC 38, touch 15, flat-footed 37; hp 213; Atk +29/ +29/ +24/ +19/ +14 +2 unholy shocking spiked chain (2d4+17+(1d6 electricity) + (2d6 unholy vs. good)/ 19-20 x2.

Wow. You really didn't want them taking down Solom easy did you?

If it weren't for their damned iron bands of binding, this guy would probably kill my party solo, much less with an archmage backing him up.

 

[htetickrt]

Wow. You really didn't want them taking down Solom easy did you?

If it weren't for their damned iron bands of binding, this guy would probably kill my party solo, much less with an archmage backing him up.

Nope.

In my defense, my party was 15th level at the time, and a rather overpowered 15th at that. Still, between Bargh, a wiz13/acm5 upgraded Solom, and assorted lesser lights, that was the hardest fight they've had to date. I figured that since it was an optional battle--only their pride would have suffered had they not attacked--there was no reason not to go all out, so it ended up at about an EL of 21 or so. Without giving too much away, Bargh was slightly less effective than Solom and his prismatic spray. After that, the group decided to spend more time and money on defense.

 

[htetickrt]

Vampire Smackdown: The Set-Up​

Trella spins on the goblins trailing the group. “Find somewhere safe. This is going to get ugly. Uglier than you, even. And don’t get any ideas;” she adds as an afterthought, “It’s unwise to fool with Mother Nature.”

The little humanoids cower appropriately; Trella addresses the group. “We don’t want to engage in close quarters, so this’ll be from a distance as much as possible. That means Kai and Kyree go in blasting, and the rest of us act as support.”

Kyree nods grimly. “Consider them peppered. With, er, arrows that is. Not pepper.” The elf laments his lack of skill in turning a clever pre-battle phrase, and resolves to practice more in the future.

Quid looks at the cowed and demoralized slave hordes and sighs. “Where’s Dobi when you need him,” she mutters, “he’d be ready with an inspiring speech right about now.” Nevertheless, the priest does what she can, healing injured stone giants while entreating all to smash anything that comes their way. The stone giants are admirably enthused at the prospect; Thulk retreats to his other troops in order to “keep them in line.”

Kai gives a tiny sigh in the direction of the slaves before turning back to the business at hand. “I’m ready with a fireball,” she says simply. “All our wands of lightning won’t be much good in there.”

Quid casts daylight on a stone, and then draws her wand of searing light to complement it. Danek asks everyone, "Does anybody want to try being invisible to undead? It might not work, and probably won't on all undead, and you can't attack at all or everybody loses it at the same time. But if you might not do much anyway," she continues with less enunciation, "it could help." She looks at Lenara, Andy, Cerridwin and Buttercup in particular.

Cerridwin smiles and puffs out his chest a bit when Danek looks at him. Then he looks at Andy smarmily. Danek frowns.

Andy replies, "Heck, yeah! Hit me wit' some of dat undead shizzle."

Trella regards Andy with disgust. “Let’s finish up, people. The vampires aren’t getting any older.”

The remaining preparations are hastily concluded and Calla pulls open the nearby door on Trella’s signal. Mist and fire immediately flood the revealed space in roughly equal proportions, the former obscuring the effect of the latter, save for the plainly audible sound of pained squealing.

Khail pulls back his blade, ready to swing, but nothing emerges from the room. He starts forward, but is restrained by Calla’s hand on his leg. The halfling creeps forward without a word, poking ahead with her dagger. The paladin whispers urgently behind her, “No evil, but be careful.” Calla snorts.

A few second later she returns with a charred rat skewered on the end of her acidic blade. “I don’t think we caught anything bigger than this in there.”

Trella mutters, “Damn.” She ushers Calla, Kyree, and Andy forward to check out the room, earning her a loud gulp from Andy.

Peering through the mist, Kyree whispers back, “Dead rats, more dead rats, huge ugly tapestries showing murders and corpses, even more dead rats, some kind of ceremonial table, an elaborate web and the remains of another one and, oh yeah, dead rats.”

“I don’t like this. Kyree….” Trella never finishes her thought, as her words are drowned out by the horrified screams of a gaggle of goblinoids. Before she can rush over to see what is amiss, the misty room in which she stands abruptly grows dark and crowded. Four figures—two drow, two drider—materialize in front of the chamber’s sealed exits, and an obviously charmed pair of bugbears, including their noble leader Thulk, burst through the open one.

Kyree is unimpressed. Shrugging off a drider’s minor magic, the elf blasts it to oblivion with a quartet of enchanted arrows. “What use are all those legs now?” he mocks, regretting it as soon as the ill-formed taunt leaves his mouth. Quid’s cry of “Burn foul communist vermin, burn” draws him away from prolonged worry about his lack of witty repartee, however, and provides enough warning for him to jump out of the way of a poorly aimed ray of light.

Quid groans at her miss. “Can somebody try dispelling the anti-light effects? I think I almost hit Kyree.”

Kai mutters, “What’s good for the goose…” remembering times she was on the wrong end of a far less experienced Kyree’s arrows*. Nevertheless, the sorceress does as requested, allowing more light into the room. The additional illumination reveals a chaotic melee: stone giants and Buttercup face off against an increasing number of charmed bugbears; Khail leads half the group in a charge against the vampires; and the other half tries very hard not to be seen.

Focused on his art, Kyree is unaffected by the details of the engagement, and his next barrage turns the second drider to gas as easily as the first. Drawing courage from this, Andy breaks her invisibility and rushes to Buttercup’s aid. Danek sighs as hers vanishes as well, and she rushes to join Rhien in melee. Behind her Cerridwin surreptitiously greases the floor, but this is overshadowed by the spectacle of a door suddenly blocked by Trella’s curtain of fire.

Unfortunately, the attempt at battlefield control goes for naught as the freed slaves make their appearance on the scene. Frightened beyond reason by what’s outside of the room, a column of bugbears and goblins charge through the doors, blindly looking for a way out in the midst of the mist. All they find is a greasy floor, however, causing the great majority of the goblinoids to begin helplessly sliding across the slick surface. Those that manage to avoid succumbing to the grease are bowled over by the sheer momentum of those behind them, leading to the issuance of a cone of sprawling goblinoids into the makeshift temple.

With no way to avoid them, the rear echelon of the party is swept up in the crush. Dodging and weaving, most avoid entanglement, but Lenara and Quid do lose their footing and get mixed up in the mayhem.

The cause of the stampede soon becomes known, as two fresh vampiric noble guards calmly ignore the grease as they enter the room. Finally finding success with a favored trick, one of the two shatters Buttercup’s mental defenses and takes control of the half-orc.

Oblivious to this, Andy nimbly hurdles prone figures to reach Thulk, executes a pretty handspring, and stabs out the bugbear’s life on the way down. The disturbed halfling curtseys awkwardly when done, but no one pays much attention.

Quid groans and throws a goblin off her. “One must never impede the workings of the market,” she grumbles, before incinerating an injured vampire with another ray of searing light. “For Capitalism!” she cries, after seeing her success. Then she has to duck out of the way of the stone giants, as they lay about themselves with abandon following the death of Thulk. Flying bugbear bodies zip by her head, tousling her blonde hair.

Lenara struggles to her feet nearby. “Hey, one of the vampires is retreating! We’re winning!” The goblins don’t seem to agree, and flood en masse past her toward the double doors on the northern end of the room. In their haste to throw it open and run screaming into the darkness, they nearly smash into a quartet of quth-maren. Not liking their chances against these, the remaining humanoids cower in the center of the room. Their attempt at looking nondescript elicits a groan from Trella.

“Just stay there!” the druid orders. “Shut up and keep out of the way!” The less experienced party members attempt to follow this advice as well, with varying degrees of success.

Kai scowls from the corner to which she fled after the ruckus. “Stupid useless goblins…. Down!” A pair of lightning bolts streaks over the diving humanoids, but does little to the resistant undead. “Great, fire and electricity. What next? Ah!”

Kai’s exclamation segues into a scream as the wild, burly drow female who just seconds earlier startled her by her sudden appearance now slices through the sorceress’ tender flesh with her greatsword. With her own blood now staining the stone floor, Kai looks in fear toward the quth-maren, but they maintain their posts, even as stone giants pound them with clubs.

The reason for these tactics becomes clear soon after, as four more vampiric drow warriors take up defensive positions behind them, apparently guarding the beautiful, if a bit feral looking, gaunt drow woman behind them. Yellowish-white hair provides a striking contrast to her deep black skin, and frames a snarl that reveals the unmistakable fangs of a vampire. Unlike the rapier-wielding noble guards, however, this one sports black elven-chain and a heavy mace that reeks of the unholy. Her accelerated movements make it clear that she is fully prepared for the battle to come, and the slight upturn of her lips indicate her pleasure at this. Kyree, whose sharp eyes note the symbol of Kiaransalee on a platinum chain tucked into the neck of her armor, shouts, “Priestess!”

Kai clutches at her injured stomach. “Really?” It is unclear, perhaps even to her, if this is said in sarcasm or fear.

Next: the fight gets ugly(-er).

*In the days of 2E, we used a fumble rule whereby melee characters tossed their weapons and ranged attacks struck someone else randomly. For some reason, that someone else was nearly always Kai when it came to Kyree’s arrows. This, as might be imagined, had a profound effect on their relationship.

 

[htetickrt]

Vampire Smackdown I​

A tense moment passes as the two groups glare at each other. The vampires, whose gazes carry their own enchantment, come out the better. Calla’s already delicate mind breaks under the strain, and she goes over to their side. Obeying Trella’s order to flank the priestess provides her an opportunity to do so without making her defection obvious.

The druid pays her little mind. “Stay still!” she cries to the goblins before walling them and the new enemies off into two separate regions with stone.

Andy mutters, “Whoa. Hot and powerful.” She glances around, sees an opportunity to retreat, and takes it with an impressive display of acrobatics. A quick sprint takes her to Buttercup’s location, where the half-orc has been chained to the wall with iron manacles. It also takes her into range of an injured vampire, whose rapier takes advantage of her surprise. Blood blossoms incarnadine across her tunic.

Back in the main room, Calla slides around the stone wall with eerie grace, focusing her vision on the platinum-haired man who lays hands upon Danek. Two steps take her into range; a flick of the wrist plunges a dagger into the wizard’s neck, just nicking the jugular. She is gone in an instant, but a startled and bloody Lenara notes her identity with shock.

Danek is barely cognizant of this new development, as she has only had eyes for the drow engaging Kai since that barbarian entered the room. Working herself into a blind rage, Danek charges around the stone wall, interposes herself between Kai and the enemy barbarian, and nearly slices off one of the drow’s arms with a mighty hack of her longsword. The two trade snarls at close range.

Quid smiles at her bravery. Getting into the moment, the Waukeenar blasts the last vampire in the room with her wand again while screaming, “Commie bastard!” Rhien’s fists and Kai’s missiles finish it off.

Kyree grumbles, “Shhh.” The elf listens intently near the wall blocking off the high priestess, waiting for her return. His patience is rewarded by the sound of heavy boots approaching. He raises his bow, arrow at the ready, in preparation for a sudden disappearance of the wall, but such does not occur. Instead, the archer—and everyone else in the area—hear the smashing of metal against stone with awesome force. With each of three hits a network of cracks begins to grow in the wall. The fourth breaches the barrier, sending chunks of stone crashing to the ground around the opening. Triumphantly looking through the breach, the drow opens her mouth to utter a word so vile to the ear that all goodly creatures would be stunned into inactivity.

She never gets the chance. Kyree’s arrow flies true, passing through shields of fire and chaotically swirling energies to lodge above her left breast. Surprised by the affront to her person, she cannot maintain her concentration and loses the evil magic to the Weave.

Perhaps feeling her mistress’ pain, the drow barbarian’s anger deepens. Pushing past Danek, she drives the blade of her greatsword into Kai’s left arm. The sorceress grits her teeth, but thanks Tymora for small favors when the drow’s body provides sufficient shielding to spare her from the volley of acidic spittle that comes her and Kyree’s way next, courtesy of the quth-maren.

Khail advances on them, sword at the ready, but he is turned aside by some invisible force before coming into melee range. Cerridwin’s summoned swarm makes the boundary of this effect clear: Wasps circle the priestess at a radius of ten feet, unable to close.

The giants, forgotten by all, ignore this new wrinkle. Massive greatclubs bludgeon the quth-maren, turning two to pulp. Trella cheers them as she rushes to Kai's aid. "Yeah! Smash the agents of your former masters!" She adds, "SOMEONE FIND CALLA!" before her transformation into a dire bear renders her unable to speak.

Cerridwin, perhaps feeling a new kinship to the druid in his new satyr form, obeys, but he can do little to stop her. Lenara looks down on him from the wall he has scaled, lamenting the loss of his companion’s humanity while he chugs a healing draught.

With Trella’s massive ursine form completely blocking the drow barbarian’s approach, Kai finally returns her attention to the priestess. The words of an abjuration form on her lips, only to turn into a gurgle as Calla slips up behind her and plunges a dagger into her kidney. Coughing blood, Kai steadfastly tries again. Upon her success, she makes haste toward the hallway, where her safety is compromised by Andy’s losing battle against a vampire. “This is turning out to be a very bad day,” she murmurs.

The drow priestess, Dorina T’sarran, isn’t having a much better one. With the vanishing of her anti-life shell, the troublesome adventurers are free to assault her directly; worse, that damned archer and the priest of that insipid trade goddess are waiting for her next prayer. Trusting her defenses she attempts to get it off anyway, but once again a wound due to Kyree’s arrow disrupts it. “You will die, elf, and serve me for eternity!” she snarls.

Kyree retorts “Bring it on, drow.” He congratulates himself for his improved repartee.

Sadly no one hears it. The battle raging around the elves is as chaotic as the soul of a drow, and equally as violent. Barbarians rage, stone giants smash, quth-maren spit, and noble guards stab in a brutal cacophony of rending flesh. Trella the bear punctuates the exchange by digging both claws into the drow barbarian’s sides, lifting her off the ground, and biting down hard on her shoulder. The dominated female’s screams echo across the chamber. Kai shudders and transports herself and Andy away before they end up in a similar position with the vampires.

Their absence seems to degrade matters further, and the melee closes in on both Kyree and Dorina. The former is stabbed repeatedly by the rapiers of the noble guards; the latter is assaulted with little effect by Rhien and Danek. Along the way, the monk is stabbed in the back by Calla, but he does not falter, nor does he fall when Dorina nearly caves in his head with a single blow.

The priestess remembers who has been the greatest threat, however, and has her minions carry out desires she cannot. Having already surrounded Kyree, the noble guards display deadly precision in taking the elf apart. Steel flashes out faster than he can dodge, puncturing his legs and driving him to his knees. Helpless, he watches the nearly-erotic pleasure gained by his enemy as the vampire ever-so-slowly drives his blade through a gap in Kyree’s chain shirt and into his heart. Perhaps he would have gained some consolation in the disappointed look that a second guard exhibits upon noting that his own blade’s deft trip into Kyree’s brainstem comes too late, but the archer is dead before the first weapon is withdrawn. Dorina’s howl as Kyree’s body strikes the earth is unabashedly exuberant.

Trella roars in anger at the sudden loss of her friend. The great dire bear tears off both of the barbarian’s arms, bites off her head, and spits the vacantly staring orb at the nearest vampire before drinking deeply of the drow’s fading life. When she has her fill, the body is dropped carelessly on top of its severed arms, and Trella goes in search of a new victim. Off in the other room, vampires unknowingly mimic the druid’s actions on the helpless Buttercup, drinking deeply of his lifeblood.

The sight of naked violence against a drow awakens something deep within Lenara, and he grows bold in his perch. Spying Calla skulking below him, the wizard abandons caution and dives upon her. Cold steel from the preternaturally-aware halfling penetrates his arm, but sheer momentum manages to take her down to the ground with him, at least for a moment.

Rhien watches Dorina’s cold eyes linger on Kyree’s corpse, and he knows what must be done. Feinting forward with his right fist, the monk spins out of the blow and executes a perfect back-flip that leaves him on one knee before Kyree’s body. Still in motion, Rhien scoops up the elf and somersaults to the far end of the room with him in tow. There he lays hands upon the archer, calling upon the mightiest of gifts his gloves grant to restore life and health to Kyree fully. With unmatched speed, Kyree’s physical form is completely restored. His soul, having barely traveled from his body, quickly returns from its nascent trek to the Outer Planes, and the elf returns to awareness with a gasp and a cough.

Danek notices none of this, as her full attention is focused on the priestess. Dorina is unimpressed. “What are you going to do with that thing, little half-breed?” she mocks.

“I cut you good before.” Danek’s rage gives her strength.

“And you were burned,” Dorina retorts, referring to the action of her fire shield. “And lucky. You will fail, and you will all die.” She begins to pray.

Danek brings her enchanted blade down, as hard and as accurately as she can muster. It descends, aimed squarely at the vampire’s clavicle…and deflects off of her many-layered protections. Dorina’s fangs, exposed when she grins, glint evilly in the dim light afforded by the party’s lantern. “I told you so,” she says, and flames blanket the room.

Cerridwin and Lenara share a glance before awareness ends in the instant incineration of their bodies. Others survive, though their pain is made all the greater for it. Danek, blistered and nearly blinded by tears, turns again on Dorina, but the laughing priestess is gone, hidden behind the ruined stone wall. Danek charges after, but again cannot land her blow. Dorina’s wounds fade, and she looks at the barbarian hungrily.

The stone giants lose their taste for the battle and flee, bowling over a hiding Andy in their haste to escape. Khail ignores them, slashing at vampire guards in a flurry of steel that turns one to gas.

Kyree glares hatefully at those remaining. “This is for killing me!” he shouts, a rather poor retort until it is backed up with a stunning display of marksmanship. Remaining prone, the archer takes a vampire’s eye with his first arrow, its knee with his second, and finally its heart with his third. The last is fired with such terrible force that it actually carries the organ out the other end, sending the vampire to join its nebulous fellow.

Kai and Andy choose this moment to emerge from the mist. The latter moves to aid Buttercup, who continues to be drained by the vampires, while the former launches another abjuration. Though Andy’s ineffectual punch only earns her a chuckle, Kai’s spell has a far greater impact, banishing several standing spells from the region.

This includes the local darkness, allowing the glow from Quid’s stone to shine through and blind the nearest vampires. It also includes the force dominating Calla, and the halfling answers her release with a scream that would shatter glass, were any present. She charges wildly into the room, looking for foes; the apparent courage of both tiny halflings shames the stone giants into moving to Andy’s aid.

Despite their visual impediment, the noble guards trade blows with the group’s warriors in a continuation of the wild scrum. At the end of the first volley, Khail is down, but Trella has taken a vampire’s unlife in revenge. Thankfully for everyone’s future nightmares, she doesn’t try to eat it as well after ripping it to pieces.

Kai blasts the remaining guard in the main room with force missiles; these and Calla’s dagger are sufficient to eliminate it. Continuing on, she passes through the breach in the wall to join Danek; yet another abjuration evens the playing field. Rhien’s successful jump kick heralds the speedy monk’s presence an instant later. Danek, emboldened, slices through undead flesh with her own attack.

Dorina snarls her displeasure, breaking several of Rhien’s ribs with her retaliatory strikes. Glaring at Kai, she then steps back into utter blackness.

The sorceress waits for Quid to advance, but she is busy restoring consciousness to the paladin. Khail rises with a grunt and immediately imparts his torn body with healing magic; Trella, in similarly bad shape, reverts to her normal form and slumps against the broken stone. She is flanked by a quite cautious Kyree.

Calla leaves them, looking for a more immediate kill. She finds it where Andy is, leaping over the poor monk’s body as she is pounded to the ground by a noble guard, ashen-faced and bleeding heavily. “Pick on someone your own size!” she screeches, completely missing the irony. The sole remaining stone giant—the others having already succumbed to the vampires’ fists—goggles at her.

Quid finally arrives on the scene, illuminating the drow priestess in faux-daylight. The massed group does not hesitate to take advantage, lessening the force animating her with magic, fist, and blade. Knowing she cannot stand against the assault here, Dorina turns to mist with a feral snarl and flies off down the darkened passageway, quickly entering a small hole in the ceiling ten feet away.

Khail passes through the arch, glances around, and asks, “Where did she go?” Kai suppresses a scream.