Travels through the Wild West: Books V-VIII (Epilogue)
- Thread starter Lazybones
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Lazybones
Adventurer
Greetings, readers. This will be my final visit to the boards for a while, as I am getting married tomorrow and then jetting off to Hawaii for two weeks of fun in the sun on my honeymoon. I wanted to leave you with a Friday cliffhanger (of course), and am about to send Horacio 11 updates so that you can continue to read Travels through the Wild West in my absence. Thanks for your support of this thread (and the three that came before it), and have a great October.
Lazybones
* * * * *
Book VI, Part 17
With their new companion leading the way, the adventurers headed away from the intersection leading to what Benzan had christened the “bug room.” Valor’s talents extended beyond the ability to speak, and his incredibly sensitive nose, even more acute than Fenrus’s, had immediately discerned that Nelan and his party had come this way, and at some point had come or gone in both directions. Other creatures had since used the passage, the dog explained, muddling the trail, but there was still enough of a spoor for him to follow.
The passage continued south for only about twenty feet more before another side corridor split off to the left. Valor checked both passages quickly and then led them to the side, where the passage progressed a short distance before ending in another stone door.
“Careful,” Benzan said. “This looks like it could lead back to where those centipedes were.”
Pelanther came forward and listened at the heavy stone portal. “I don’t hear anything,” he said, “but the door just might be too thick.”
“Only one way to find out,” Benzan said. He pushed the door open, slowly, checking the darkness beyond before opening it more fully.
Beyond the door lay an open space that appeared to give access to a number of other areas. The light from Pel’s ring showed that straight ahead, a larger chamber opened up off of this room, while to the right they could see two passages leading off into darkness.
The familiar musty smell was evident in the air here, and they could just make out a faint chittering noise coming from the chamber ahead.
“Uh oh,” Benzan said softly.
Valor pressed forward, his nose to the ground. “He came this way,” the magical dog said, moving into one of the passages to the right.
“All right, just keep your eyes open,” Cal cautioned them, moving to join the dog. At least the southern passages were quiet, and the noises to the north remained distant for now.
“Look,” Benzan said, drawing their attention to something. Pel shone his light upon a space of the walls and floor that was blackened with a very thin layer of soot, charred as though someone had applied a very hot flame to the surface. “Was Nelan a magic-user?”
“Not as far as I know,” Cal said. “His talents lay more toward the roguish career path. Perhaps one of his companions. Or maybe they had some alchemist’s fire.”
“Well, at least we know that the lad survived the bugs,” Pel commented.
“Unless he came this way first, and was killed by them on the way back to the entrance,” Benzan noted.
“Yer a real burst of sunshine, you know that?”
“Sorry.”
They followed the dog down the corridor, which turned sharply to the right before continuing in the same direction it had been heading before. At the point where the corridor turned, another stone door was set in the south wall, directly in front of them as they came around the turn.
They gathered near the door, Valor sniffing at it while Pel pressed up against the stone to listen. Benzan, meanwhile, took a few steps down the passage, looking down into the darkness beyond the radius of their light sources.
“Did he come this way?”
“Can’t tell.”
“Hear anything?”
“If you’d quit yer yapping, perhaps I could...”
“Um... guys? I see something here...”
The others turned as Benzan drew their attention down the corridor. They left the door behind for now, following him as he crept warily forward. As the light spilled out into the passageway they could see that it ended in a blank wall about twenty feet beyond the door.
Or not entirely blank, they saw, noticing what had drawn Benzan’s attention; there were runes of some sort carved into the stone, the indentations in the stone highlighted slightly in the light of Pel’s ring.
Wary for any traps, Benzan led them up to the wall, close enough to make out the runes. The writing was an archaic form of Thorass. Most of the words seemed to be meaningless, but the last line was clear enough for him to discern the meaning.
If you’re reading this, of course, it’s already too late...
“Back!” Benzan yelled, spreading his arms as if to drive his companions back up the corridor by brute strength.
It was, of course, too late.
The air shimmered and coalesced around them, thickening until it felt as though they were trying to force their way through water.
Then all of them, including the wolf and the magical dog, disappeared.
Lazybones
* * * * *
Book VI, Part 17
With their new companion leading the way, the adventurers headed away from the intersection leading to what Benzan had christened the “bug room.” Valor’s talents extended beyond the ability to speak, and his incredibly sensitive nose, even more acute than Fenrus’s, had immediately discerned that Nelan and his party had come this way, and at some point had come or gone in both directions. Other creatures had since used the passage, the dog explained, muddling the trail, but there was still enough of a spoor for him to follow.
The passage continued south for only about twenty feet more before another side corridor split off to the left. Valor checked both passages quickly and then led them to the side, where the passage progressed a short distance before ending in another stone door.
“Careful,” Benzan said. “This looks like it could lead back to where those centipedes were.”
Pelanther came forward and listened at the heavy stone portal. “I don’t hear anything,” he said, “but the door just might be too thick.”
“Only one way to find out,” Benzan said. He pushed the door open, slowly, checking the darkness beyond before opening it more fully.
Beyond the door lay an open space that appeared to give access to a number of other areas. The light from Pel’s ring showed that straight ahead, a larger chamber opened up off of this room, while to the right they could see two passages leading off into darkness.
The familiar musty smell was evident in the air here, and they could just make out a faint chittering noise coming from the chamber ahead.
“Uh oh,” Benzan said softly.
Valor pressed forward, his nose to the ground. “He came this way,” the magical dog said, moving into one of the passages to the right.
“All right, just keep your eyes open,” Cal cautioned them, moving to join the dog. At least the southern passages were quiet, and the noises to the north remained distant for now.
“Look,” Benzan said, drawing their attention to something. Pel shone his light upon a space of the walls and floor that was blackened with a very thin layer of soot, charred as though someone had applied a very hot flame to the surface. “Was Nelan a magic-user?”
“Not as far as I know,” Cal said. “His talents lay more toward the roguish career path. Perhaps one of his companions. Or maybe they had some alchemist’s fire.”
“Well, at least we know that the lad survived the bugs,” Pel commented.
“Unless he came this way first, and was killed by them on the way back to the entrance,” Benzan noted.
“Yer a real burst of sunshine, you know that?”
“Sorry.”
They followed the dog down the corridor, which turned sharply to the right before continuing in the same direction it had been heading before. At the point where the corridor turned, another stone door was set in the south wall, directly in front of them as they came around the turn.
They gathered near the door, Valor sniffing at it while Pel pressed up against the stone to listen. Benzan, meanwhile, took a few steps down the passage, looking down into the darkness beyond the radius of their light sources.
“Did he come this way?”
“Can’t tell.”
“Hear anything?”
“If you’d quit yer yapping, perhaps I could...”
“Um... guys? I see something here...”
The others turned as Benzan drew their attention down the corridor. They left the door behind for now, following him as he crept warily forward. As the light spilled out into the passageway they could see that it ended in a blank wall about twenty feet beyond the door.
Or not entirely blank, they saw, noticing what had drawn Benzan’s attention; there were runes of some sort carved into the stone, the indentations in the stone highlighted slightly in the light of Pel’s ring.
Wary for any traps, Benzan led them up to the wall, close enough to make out the runes. The writing was an archaic form of Thorass. Most of the words seemed to be meaningless, but the last line was clear enough for him to discern the meaning.
If you’re reading this, of course, it’s already too late...
“Back!” Benzan yelled, spreading his arms as if to drive his companions back up the corridor by brute strength.
It was, of course, too late.
The air shimmered and coalesced around them, thickening until it felt as though they were trying to force their way through water.
Then all of them, including the wolf and the magical dog, disappeared.
Broccli_Head
Explorer
Lazybones said:
I remember that too! Mwhahahahahaha...
You should've separated the party! Or maybe they will all be alone in Undermoutain, without clothes....
A new update from Lazybones's pen (well, keyboard), brought to you all by your favorite Story Hour addict 
Book VI, Part 18
The smell was potent, a stinging mixture of brine and mold that hit them with a force like a punch. There was darkness, and splashing sounds, and a muffled curse. Their light sources had been muted again, but as their eyes adjusted to the sudden dark they became aware of a dim violet glow that filled the place. They were all standing in black, murky water, a little more than a foot deep.
Well, all except Benzan; through the power of his ring of water walking, he was standing atop the water that soaked the gnomes up to their hips. The room was shaped like a long hall, some sixty feet in length and twenty across, with vaulted buttresses supporting the ceiling above them. Lichens and mold clung to the walls nearly up to those stone supports, and they glistened eerily with reflected purple light.
“What the heck is that?”
Benzan’s words drew their attention around behind them, to a massive stone statue that rose up on a cracked stone pedestal in a deep alcove looking out over the room’s flooded gallery. The statue seemed to be the source of the violet glow, surrounded by a faint nimbus that outlined it against the darkness. The statue bore the signs of age and wear, but was still distinguishable as some sort of reptilian form, humanoid and ferocious even with the details of its features worn away by time.
“Ugly,” Pel commented, splashing through the murky water toward the statue.
They were interrupted by a noise behind them, toward the far corner of the chamber. A thick ‘plop’ sounded from that direction, and as they turned, Pel’s light revealed a disturbance in the water, waves rippling angrily out from that side of the room.
“Um, guys...” Benzan said, reaching down to grasp the hilt of his sword.
“There’s an exit over there!” Cal said, pointing to the other end of the hall, where a side passage did indeed seem to offer a way out of the chamber.
“Something’s moving in the water!” Benzan warned, drawing his sword and moving backwards while the others hurried toward the exit. The water clung to the gnomes, however, slowing their progress. Then Pelanther stumbled on something unseen under the surface of the water, and fell in a loud splash.
Cal was there immediately, helping his cousin up, while Valor stood over him protectively to one side, and Fenrus to the other. The water only came up to the wolf’s ankles, and the dim light made him seem like a black shadow, otherworldly.
Benzan held his ground as the amorphous form moving toward them drew nearer, its course clear now as it drove the water out before it in a wave. A second wave followed the first, and he only belatedly realized what it was as it slammed into him—not breaking around his ankles like the first, but hitting him with a solid impact that drove him back and nearly knocked him off his feet. He felt pain as something sizzled against his flesh, through his boots.
The dark form lunged forward again, nearly all of it submerged within the brackish water. As it broached the surface, Benzan realized with horror that the thing’s form was merely a vague shape, an amoebic blob that packed a powerful punch with an acidic boost.
“It’s some sort of ooze/jelly/slime thing!” he shouted to the others. “Um... let’s get out of here!”
The thing formed into another broad wave and came at him again, but this time he was ready for it. He met the blob’s approach with a mighty swing of his sword. The weapon clove into it, tearing a great line in its form that ripped through its entire body, like someone tearing a piece of paper into two equal halves.
At that point, one would have expected the thing to die, if it were any ordinary foe. To Benzan’s surprise, however, the two halves of the creature each came at him, forming fat pseudopods that pounded into him. He staggered back from the twin impacts, feeling the sizzling pain as the thing’s acidic secretions began dissolving his flesh underneath his armor.
For a moment, he was at a loss. “Weapons don’t hurt it!” he cried out to the others.
“Fall back!” Cal commanded. He pointed his wand at one of the blobs threatening Benzan, but the acid arrow fell short, splashing into the water harmlessly. The black water gave the blobs excellent cover, he realized. “To the corridor!”
The gnomes and their two canines retreated as quickly as they could toward the corridor. Benzan was far more mobile, given the power of his ring, and he leapt over the nearest blob, avoiding another pulsing attack. He could have overtaken the gnomes easily, but instead moved toward the statue, trying to draw the slower-moving blobs after him. He was only partially successful, as he saw two currents moving through the thick water, one toward his friends, the other toward him and the statue.
“Watch out, incoming!” he yelled after his friends, to give them warning. But the delay he’d given them was enough; they had already reached the mouth of the corridor, where a slanting ramp led back up to dry stone.
Benzan, meanwhile, strode effortlessly across the surface of the water, trying to ignore the persistent pain in his legs, all too aware of the rippling wave following after him though the water. Hoping that the statue wasn’t some sort of bizarre trap, he sheathed his sword and leapt smoothly upon it, pulling himself up onto its broad stone back.
“Come and get me, mister blob!” he yelled toward the water.
Meanwhile, the gnomes, having gained the security of higher ground, turned to face the second creature as it emerged from the water and flowed in an amorphous mass toward them. Fenrus started to move toward it, but Pel, recognizing that the wolf’s attacks would only have the same result as Benzan’s sword, held his companion back. The druid reached into his pouch, luckily a magical device sealed against water damage, and drew out a scroll.
Cal, meanwhile, fired another acid arrow into the body of the creature. The missile blasted into it, the magical acid eating away a big hole in its body.
Benzan, meanwhile, clambered up atop his awkward perch, while the jelly, responding perhaps to his earlier challenge, emerged from the water and flowed up the legs of the statue almost eagerly toward him. Benzan waited, but as he grabbed onto the head of the statue for balance, it suddenly twisted in his grasp, nearly causing him to lose his balance.
“What the—”
He turned the head and it came off in his hand, revealing a small cavity inside the statue blackened with soot. In the dim purple glow of the statue he caught sight of a small, faintly glimmering object—a metal ring, set in a slight depression in the secret compartment. Almost instinctively, he grabbed it and pocketed it.
As he did so, he heard a slight click.
“Uh oh...”
The distraction had given the ooze almost enough time to reach him, the amoebic form now wrapped around the torso of the statue. An acidic pseudopod lashed out at him, but he leapt up into the air away from the statue. He would have nose-dived into the brackish water, but as he started to fall his hand clutched the hilt of his sword, and he called upon its innate power. Instead of falling, he lifted upward, levitating until he reached the moisture-slick ceiling.
Safe from the blob, for the moment. But as he looked down at the room he saw three skeletons, clad in rusted breastplates and bearing swords, rise up out of the water. As one, they looked up at him.
“Um... hey, guys,” Benzan said, twenty feet above them—safely out of reach.
Or at least that was what he thought, until the three skeletons reached up toward him, and a barrage of magical bolts exploded from their fingertips, flying up into the air and blasting into him.
Book VI, Part 18
The smell was potent, a stinging mixture of brine and mold that hit them with a force like a punch. There was darkness, and splashing sounds, and a muffled curse. Their light sources had been muted again, but as their eyes adjusted to the sudden dark they became aware of a dim violet glow that filled the place. They were all standing in black, murky water, a little more than a foot deep.
Well, all except Benzan; through the power of his ring of water walking, he was standing atop the water that soaked the gnomes up to their hips. The room was shaped like a long hall, some sixty feet in length and twenty across, with vaulted buttresses supporting the ceiling above them. Lichens and mold clung to the walls nearly up to those stone supports, and they glistened eerily with reflected purple light.
“What the heck is that?”
Benzan’s words drew their attention around behind them, to a massive stone statue that rose up on a cracked stone pedestal in a deep alcove looking out over the room’s flooded gallery. The statue seemed to be the source of the violet glow, surrounded by a faint nimbus that outlined it against the darkness. The statue bore the signs of age and wear, but was still distinguishable as some sort of reptilian form, humanoid and ferocious even with the details of its features worn away by time.
“Ugly,” Pel commented, splashing through the murky water toward the statue.
They were interrupted by a noise behind them, toward the far corner of the chamber. A thick ‘plop’ sounded from that direction, and as they turned, Pel’s light revealed a disturbance in the water, waves rippling angrily out from that side of the room.
“Um, guys...” Benzan said, reaching down to grasp the hilt of his sword.
“There’s an exit over there!” Cal said, pointing to the other end of the hall, where a side passage did indeed seem to offer a way out of the chamber.
“Something’s moving in the water!” Benzan warned, drawing his sword and moving backwards while the others hurried toward the exit. The water clung to the gnomes, however, slowing their progress. Then Pelanther stumbled on something unseen under the surface of the water, and fell in a loud splash.
Cal was there immediately, helping his cousin up, while Valor stood over him protectively to one side, and Fenrus to the other. The water only came up to the wolf’s ankles, and the dim light made him seem like a black shadow, otherworldly.
Benzan held his ground as the amorphous form moving toward them drew nearer, its course clear now as it drove the water out before it in a wave. A second wave followed the first, and he only belatedly realized what it was as it slammed into him—not breaking around his ankles like the first, but hitting him with a solid impact that drove him back and nearly knocked him off his feet. He felt pain as something sizzled against his flesh, through his boots.
The dark form lunged forward again, nearly all of it submerged within the brackish water. As it broached the surface, Benzan realized with horror that the thing’s form was merely a vague shape, an amoebic blob that packed a powerful punch with an acidic boost.
“It’s some sort of ooze/jelly/slime thing!” he shouted to the others. “Um... let’s get out of here!”
The thing formed into another broad wave and came at him again, but this time he was ready for it. He met the blob’s approach with a mighty swing of his sword. The weapon clove into it, tearing a great line in its form that ripped through its entire body, like someone tearing a piece of paper into two equal halves.
At that point, one would have expected the thing to die, if it were any ordinary foe. To Benzan’s surprise, however, the two halves of the creature each came at him, forming fat pseudopods that pounded into him. He staggered back from the twin impacts, feeling the sizzling pain as the thing’s acidic secretions began dissolving his flesh underneath his armor.
For a moment, he was at a loss. “Weapons don’t hurt it!” he cried out to the others.
“Fall back!” Cal commanded. He pointed his wand at one of the blobs threatening Benzan, but the acid arrow fell short, splashing into the water harmlessly. The black water gave the blobs excellent cover, he realized. “To the corridor!”
The gnomes and their two canines retreated as quickly as they could toward the corridor. Benzan was far more mobile, given the power of his ring, and he leapt over the nearest blob, avoiding another pulsing attack. He could have overtaken the gnomes easily, but instead moved toward the statue, trying to draw the slower-moving blobs after him. He was only partially successful, as he saw two currents moving through the thick water, one toward his friends, the other toward him and the statue.
“Watch out, incoming!” he yelled after his friends, to give them warning. But the delay he’d given them was enough; they had already reached the mouth of the corridor, where a slanting ramp led back up to dry stone.
Benzan, meanwhile, strode effortlessly across the surface of the water, trying to ignore the persistent pain in his legs, all too aware of the rippling wave following after him though the water. Hoping that the statue wasn’t some sort of bizarre trap, he sheathed his sword and leapt smoothly upon it, pulling himself up onto its broad stone back.
“Come and get me, mister blob!” he yelled toward the water.
Meanwhile, the gnomes, having gained the security of higher ground, turned to face the second creature as it emerged from the water and flowed in an amorphous mass toward them. Fenrus started to move toward it, but Pel, recognizing that the wolf’s attacks would only have the same result as Benzan’s sword, held his companion back. The druid reached into his pouch, luckily a magical device sealed against water damage, and drew out a scroll.
Cal, meanwhile, fired another acid arrow into the body of the creature. The missile blasted into it, the magical acid eating away a big hole in its body.
Benzan, meanwhile, clambered up atop his awkward perch, while the jelly, responding perhaps to his earlier challenge, emerged from the water and flowed up the legs of the statue almost eagerly toward him. Benzan waited, but as he grabbed onto the head of the statue for balance, it suddenly twisted in his grasp, nearly causing him to lose his balance.
“What the—”
He turned the head and it came off in his hand, revealing a small cavity inside the statue blackened with soot. In the dim purple glow of the statue he caught sight of a small, faintly glimmering object—a metal ring, set in a slight depression in the secret compartment. Almost instinctively, he grabbed it and pocketed it.
As he did so, he heard a slight click.
“Uh oh...”
The distraction had given the ooze almost enough time to reach him, the amoebic form now wrapped around the torso of the statue. An acidic pseudopod lashed out at him, but he leapt up into the air away from the statue. He would have nose-dived into the brackish water, but as he started to fall his hand clutched the hilt of his sword, and he called upon its innate power. Instead of falling, he lifted upward, levitating until he reached the moisture-slick ceiling.
Safe from the blob, for the moment. But as he looked down at the room he saw three skeletons, clad in rusted breastplates and bearing swords, rise up out of the water. As one, they looked up at him.
“Um... hey, guys,” Benzan said, twenty feet above them—safely out of reach.
Or at least that was what he thought, until the three skeletons reached up toward him, and a barrage of magical bolts exploded from their fingertips, flying up into the air and blasting into him.
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