Travels through the Wild West: Books V-VIII (Epilogue)
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Lazybones
Adventurer
Reg Dword said:
Maybe at some point. I'm not running that game (I'm just a lowly player
), and I've missed the last two sessions with the wedding planning and honeymoon. The campaign hasn't really caught me up in it yet, and I'm mostly playing just out of nostalgia at this point. The campaign is focused on the humanoid servants of a powerful human wizard; I'm playing a goblin rogue named "Filcher."
Lazybones
Adventurer
I don't know if I should admit this, but the "torment Delem" posts are pretty fun to write . I especially enjoyed giving him the chance to take down Benzan (well, the tiefling has long had it coming, I guess). We'll see Delem once more at the end of the book, which isn't that far off now.
* * * * *
Book VI, Part 31
“Uhhh...”
Cal stirred, drifting slowly back into consciousness. His head felt thick, full of cobwebs, like that time his brother Dolender had beaten him silly in an altercation involving a certain young woman of their mutual acquaintance. The memory was enough to drag him fully back into wakefulness, and he struggled to lift himself into a sitting position.
“Cal, are you okay?”
The voice was right there, and hands were helping him slowly up. It was dark, pitch black, but he recognized the voice and the familiar presence beside him.
“Benzan? What happened? Where are we?”
There was a long pause, and a heavy silence. When the voice finally responded, it was heavy with a weight that Cal had not often heard in his friend. As he spoke, though, Cal felt the same weight descend upon him like that net had back in the ambush chamber.
“I managed to get us out of there, using my ring. My sword is gone—one of the hobgoblins has it. You were out cold—I found the dart in your neck, and a twin to it stuck in my armor, luckily it didn’t penetrate. They killed Fenrus; I don’t know what happened to Valor.”
“And Pel?”
“He was alive last I saw him, trapped in a force-bubble of some sort. There was nothing I could do, there were too many of them left to fight, especially without my weapon.”
Cal nodded, knowing that Benzan would be able to see the gesture even in the darkness. “Where are we?”
“I’m not sure. I ducked into a blind corridor we hadn’t explored yet. I tried to make my way back to the tunnels we’d covered, but to be honest I’m not sure where we are. I found a side-passage that led to this room; I’ve wedged the door shut but I doubt it’ll hold against a determined intruder.”
Cal felt at his belt for his sword, but it wasn’t there.
“Here,” Benzan said, sliding something across the floor. It was a bundle of their gear, all that hadn’t been lost in the ambush. Cal felt around for his sword, drawing the weapon enough so that its pale light shone out into the room.
“Careful. Those doors aren’t sealed, and the light might shine out into the corridor.”
Cal nodded, and left just enough of the blade bare so that he could make out the outlines of their prison. The chamber was small, cramped in comparison to the great halls they had traveled earlier, the walls and floor of plain, unadorned stone.
“We’re in quite a fix, aren’t we?” Benzan said. Now that he could see his friend’s face, Cal realized that Benzan looked truly beaten, wearing an expression that he’d never seen on the tiefling’s face. Benzan had always been cynical, wry to the point where you wanted to strangle him, but it chilled him to see that look of despair on the young man’s features.
“We’re alive. We have most of our gear, and our wits. We’ll get out of this.”
Benzan looked down at the floor. “I abandoned your cousin,” he said.
Cal stood—a difficult task, given the sluggishness he still felt—and clasped his friend on the shoulder. “You did what you could. They were too well prepared, and skilled; if you’d remained, we’d all be killed or captured. At least now we’re still free. I heard that wizard shout that they wanted us alive; they may have Pel, but we can still get him back.”
“How, exactly? My sword is gone. You’ve cast most of your spells already, and I doubt that those guys are going to give us the leisure to recover them. Even in the short time you’ve been out I think I’ve heard people moving around, search parties looking for us. This place isn’t that big... they’ll find us, sooner rather than later.”
Cal simply bent and started gathering up his gear. He did a quick inventory of the stuff there; he’d lost his crossbow and his bedroll, but everything else seemed to be there, including the all-important pouches containing his magical components and the items of power that Alera had given him.
“Are you hurt?” he asked.
“I drank a healing potion earlier. My last one, by the way.”
“I’ve still got three, if it comes to that. I don’t seem to be that hurt, though—just that poisoned dart, I guess.” He checked his gear, then rose and crossed the small room toward the door. Before turning back toward Benzan.
“Coming?”
Reluctantly, the tiefling rose. “I wish Lok was here,” he said.
Suddenly there was a puff of smoke, startling the both of them. It cleared after just a moment to reveal, lying there on the hard stone in a simple wool tunic...
“Lok!”
The genasi stirred, and raised himself on one elbow as he looked up at them, shaking his head to clear the sleep from his eyes.
“Cal, Benzan? What are you doing here?”
. I especially enjoyed giving him the chance to take down Benzan (well, the tiefling has long had it coming, I guess). We'll see Delem once more at the end of the book, which isn't that far off now. * * * * *
Book VI, Part 31
“Uhhh...”
Cal stirred, drifting slowly back into consciousness. His head felt thick, full of cobwebs, like that time his brother Dolender had beaten him silly in an altercation involving a certain young woman of their mutual acquaintance. The memory was enough to drag him fully back into wakefulness, and he struggled to lift himself into a sitting position.
“Cal, are you okay?”
The voice was right there, and hands were helping him slowly up. It was dark, pitch black, but he recognized the voice and the familiar presence beside him.
“Benzan? What happened? Where are we?”
There was a long pause, and a heavy silence. When the voice finally responded, it was heavy with a weight that Cal had not often heard in his friend. As he spoke, though, Cal felt the same weight descend upon him like that net had back in the ambush chamber.
“I managed to get us out of there, using my ring. My sword is gone—one of the hobgoblins has it. You were out cold—I found the dart in your neck, and a twin to it stuck in my armor, luckily it didn’t penetrate. They killed Fenrus; I don’t know what happened to Valor.”
“And Pel?”
“He was alive last I saw him, trapped in a force-bubble of some sort. There was nothing I could do, there were too many of them left to fight, especially without my weapon.”
Cal nodded, knowing that Benzan would be able to see the gesture even in the darkness. “Where are we?”
“I’m not sure. I ducked into a blind corridor we hadn’t explored yet. I tried to make my way back to the tunnels we’d covered, but to be honest I’m not sure where we are. I found a side-passage that led to this room; I’ve wedged the door shut but I doubt it’ll hold against a determined intruder.”
Cal felt at his belt for his sword, but it wasn’t there.
“Here,” Benzan said, sliding something across the floor. It was a bundle of their gear, all that hadn’t been lost in the ambush. Cal felt around for his sword, drawing the weapon enough so that its pale light shone out into the room.
“Careful. Those doors aren’t sealed, and the light might shine out into the corridor.”
Cal nodded, and left just enough of the blade bare so that he could make out the outlines of their prison. The chamber was small, cramped in comparison to the great halls they had traveled earlier, the walls and floor of plain, unadorned stone.
“We’re in quite a fix, aren’t we?” Benzan said. Now that he could see his friend’s face, Cal realized that Benzan looked truly beaten, wearing an expression that he’d never seen on the tiefling’s face. Benzan had always been cynical, wry to the point where you wanted to strangle him, but it chilled him to see that look of despair on the young man’s features.
“We’re alive. We have most of our gear, and our wits. We’ll get out of this.”
Benzan looked down at the floor. “I abandoned your cousin,” he said.
Cal stood—a difficult task, given the sluggishness he still felt—and clasped his friend on the shoulder. “You did what you could. They were too well prepared, and skilled; if you’d remained, we’d all be killed or captured. At least now we’re still free. I heard that wizard shout that they wanted us alive; they may have Pel, but we can still get him back.”
“How, exactly? My sword is gone. You’ve cast most of your spells already, and I doubt that those guys are going to give us the leisure to recover them. Even in the short time you’ve been out I think I’ve heard people moving around, search parties looking for us. This place isn’t that big... they’ll find us, sooner rather than later.”
Cal simply bent and started gathering up his gear. He did a quick inventory of the stuff there; he’d lost his crossbow and his bedroll, but everything else seemed to be there, including the all-important pouches containing his magical components and the items of power that Alera had given him.
“Are you hurt?” he asked.
“I drank a healing potion earlier. My last one, by the way.”
“I’ve still got three, if it comes to that. I don’t seem to be that hurt, though—just that poisoned dart, I guess.” He checked his gear, then rose and crossed the small room toward the door. Before turning back toward Benzan.
“Coming?”
Reluctantly, the tiefling rose. “I wish Lok was here,” he said.
Suddenly there was a puff of smoke, startling the both of them. It cleared after just a moment to reveal, lying there on the hard stone in a simple wool tunic...
“Lok!”
The genasi stirred, and raised himself on one elbow as he looked up at them, shaking his head to clear the sleep from his eyes.
“Cal, Benzan? What are you doing here?”
Lazybones
Adventurer
Reg Dword said:
Good call, Reg.
* * * * *
Book VI, Part 32
It didn’t take them that long to figure out what had happened.
Once the initial shock had worn off, and they started to explain to Lok where they were and what was happening, Cal was the first to realize that Benzan had somehow gained the power to make his wish, uttered casually, into reality. And Cal, who’d heard many tales indeed about this most potent of magics, was the first to ask about the new ring that Benzan was wearing on his finger.
“I found it back in the room with that statue, while we were battling those oozes,” he explained. “I forgot I was even wearing it, to tell you the truth.”
Cal’s detect magic confirmed that the ring had possessed a powerful aura; now just an afterimage that was already fading. Just to be sure, they tried another wish—to have Pelanther and Fenrus restored to them, alive and well—but nothing happened.
“You’re telling me I wasted a wish? No offense Lok, but... aargh!”
Cal flinched as the tiefling’s exclamation resounded loudly in the tight confines of the chamber. “Let’s not forget, gentlemen, that we have a more pressing problem here.”
They’d briefly explained the situation to Lok, just enough to make it clear how dire their situation was here. Lok had been transported to them exactly as he had been, asleep in his protected chamber deep within the security of the urdunnir town. He had no armor, no magic axe, no bag of holding—nothing in fact, save for the simple wool nightshirt that he’d been wearing in his bed. And there was no way to secure him better equipment, in this place.
They gave him what they could; Cal yielding his magical shortsword and a healing potion along with a spare belt and pouch, while Benzan handed over his small shield. The result was certainly less impressive than the genasi’s typical outfitting, but he still had his strength and his skill, which were considerable even without his items of power bolstering him.
Slowly, and with great caution, Benzan unwedged the door and they headed back out into the corridor outside. Since they didn’t really have any idea of where they were, they elected to start by heading back to the ambush site, to see if they could pick up the trail of their adversaries there.
Benzan took the lead, cloaked within the darkness of his ring of shadows. Lok and Cal followed a goodly distance behind, Lok holding Cal’s sword so that it could shed enough light for Cal to see by, without unduly giving away their position. It was an acknowledgement of the change in their situation, that they were creeping in this time, instead of striding boldly forward into danger.
The halls of Undermountain were quiet as they made their way slowly forward in this fashion, retracing the steps of Benzan’s desperate flight.
They were nearing the site of the ambush when they heard a soft hiss from up ahead, Benzan’s warning signal. Lok and Cal retreated to the mouth of a side passage they’d just recently passed, Lok sliding the sword back into its sheath, and guiding Cal’s steps so that he didn’t stumble in the darkness.
“Company coming,” Benzan’s whisper came from somewhere close. Cloaked in the power of his ring, he was indistinguishable from the rest of the darkness.
They say it a moment later, a brightening from down the passage that resolved into the light of a lantern as several figures came around a bend a good fifty feet away from their current hiding place. The lantern illuminated a group of five humans, armed and armored in the strange jumble of styles they had seen earlier. They looked wary and alert, but it seemed clear that they hadn’t spotted them.
Cal leaned forward until his mouth was just a few inches from Lok’s ear. “Take one alive, if you can manage it,” he whispered. Holding onto the genasi’s shoulder from behind, he felt rather than saw Lok’s nod in response.
They waited as the humans drew nearer. Cal found the components and wands that he wanted by touch, and stepped back to give Lok room to operate.
The three friends had fought together so long that they needed no code words or preplanning to coordinate their attacks. Fitting smoothly back into old patterns, the two warriors awaited Cal’s cue to start their attack. The gnome waited until the torchbearer had almost drawn abreast of their position huddled in the side passage, then spoke the command word of one of his wands.
One of the humans wavered, and collapsed into magical sleep.
Even as the rest of the small party reacted, Lok tore into their midst, slashing with his borrowed blade. The shortsword tore through the haphazard armor protection of the first, ripping a deep and surely mortal gash in the man’s torso. The critically wounded warrior should have gone down, but he clutched at his own sword and lunged at Lok in a clumsy counterstroke that Lok easily deflected with his shield. Rather than bothering to finish the wavering warrior Lok was already sweeping into the next men as they drew their weapons, plunging his sword through the guard of the first and sinking the entire length of the blade into the man’s chest.
That one wasn’t quite able to manage a return attack.
The men responded quickly to the sudden attack, even though two of their number were already down and a third was about to join them. The torchbearer shouted an order, and the last of the men turned and started running down the passageway back the way they had come.
He managed barely a dozen paces before Benzan’s arrow slammed into the small of his back, driving into him with the icy touch of Alera’s magic augmenting the damaging power of the steel arrowhead. The man staggered but didn’t go down, and he managed another seven or eight steps before a second arrow joined the first, and the man crumpled.
Cal drew out his wand of acid arrows, but it wasn’t needed. With a final cut Lok finished the last of his adversaries, having taken only a shallow gash to his exposed arm in the brief melee. The whole battle had lasted less than twenty seconds, but they were all too aware that even that brief clash could bring down reinforcements upon them. They’d seen enough to know that their foes were surprisingly well-organized, operating almost like a veteran military force.
Lok doused the torch that the warriors had been carrying and dragged the bodies into a nearby dark corner. It didn’t do much to hide the signs of battle—the floor and even the walls were splashed with garish red streaks of fresh blood—but at least a casual glance down the passage wouldn’t instantly reveal anything. Meanwhile, Benzan trussed up their sleeping prisoner, binding his wrists and ankles and gagging him. Once they were finished, the two warriors took up flanking positions to watch for trouble while Cal interrogated him.
Their captive had regained consciousness and was staring up at Cal balefully when the gnome took up his magical lute and began to play a soft melody. The lute had the power to cast a variety of spells, depending on the notes played upon it, and Cal used it now to cast a charm spell that would hopefully turn this enemy into at least a temporary ally.
But as he looked into the man’s eyes, he saw that the spell had failed. He didn’t have to undo the gag to verify; the hatred in those eyes was clear enough.
“Plan B then,” Cal grumbled to himself. He closed his eyes and focused his mind for a few moments, then began speaking the words of another spell.
The prisoner watched him suspiciously as he finished the casting and opened his eyes again, fixing the captive warrior with a hard-edged stare that dragged on for some twenty heartbeats. The gnome’s brow was furrowed, his concentration almost painfully intense, but the prisoner met that gaze squarely and didn’t flinch. Finally, Cal relaxed slightly and almost smiled.
“You know, we weren’t looking for trouble when we came here,” Cal said companionably to the man. “All I wanted to know what whether my cousin Nelan was down here. You’d remember him if you saw him; he personifies the stereotype of gnomes as silly practical jokers. He’s young, might even mistake him for a child, from a human’s perspective, but he’s quick, and agile.”
The prisoner only looked at him, his expression cold.
Cal glanced around at the stonework of the corridor. “This is some hideout you have here. All these chambers, corridors... it’s like a maze. I don’t know how you all keep from getting lost. I mean, I know you must have some sort of central base, a headquarters, but I imagine it’s probably pretty well hidden. I’m sure you took our friend, the druid, there as well.”
The captive’s eyes narrowed suspiciously, but Cal kept talking.
“I must admit, you seem well organized for what looks at first glance like a group of ill-equipped, mismatched rogues. It must take quite a leader to keep such a diverse band together, and working together so smoothly.”
The prisoner’s eyes widened as he stared into Cal’s, then he closed them tightly and shook his head from side to side. Cal casual, easygoing manner melted again into a look of intense concentration, and beads of sweat formed along the edges of his brow.
“Yes... your master... think about your...”
The bound warrior shot up so quickly that Cal fell back in surprise. He couldn’t get up, of course, couldn’t rise any higher than a seated position, but before Cal could react he snapped his body backward, driving the back of his skull with as much force as he could muster into the hard stone floor. The impact sounded with a sickening crack, and the man lost consciousness.
Benzan appeared out of the shadows an instant later. “What happened?”
Cal looked down at their captive with a look of mixed confusion and horror. “I don’t know... he just... unbelievable.”
“Did you find out anything?”
Cal looked thoughtful, holding his chin in his hand for a few long seconds before responding. “Yes,” he finally said. “Like the others we encountered, he was resistant to mind-control magic, so I used on of my new spells, one that gives me the power to detect thoughts.”
Lok had joined them as well, although he kept his attention on the dark passageway as he listened.
“Oh, so that’s what you were doing, asking him all those questions. Getting him to think about those things, so you could read his mind?”
Cal nodded at the tiefling’s logic. “It was... strange. His thoughts were... I cannot think of words to describe it. He was incredibly focused in some ways, yet utterly discordant on others. One thing’s certain, however—he didn’t want to reveal anything about whoever, or whatever, is leading this little operation.”
“Yeah, slamming your own head into the floor with enough force to crack your skull is a bit extreme,” Benzan said. “But it was the same way with those guys we fought; they fought well, with a lot of skill, but it was as if they were fanatics or something, not going down until you literally drove them into the ground.”
“Did you learn enough to find your cousins?” Lok asked.
Cal, who had still been focused on the unconscious man, looked up at them, determination shining in his eyes. “Yes.”
Well, I still don't have any idea who Delem's mentor is...
...but I'm pretty sure I know what's leading this little underground group. Not that I'm going to say anything, in case I'm wrong.
Nice wish spell, by the way. I wondered if there was going to be a way for Lok to make an appearance in this book.
...but I'm pretty sure I know what's leading this little underground group. Not that I'm going to say anything, in case I'm wrong.
Nice wish spell, by the way. I wondered if there was going to be a way for Lok to make an appearance in this book.
Lazybones
Adventurer
Glad the boards are back up; I couldn't get on for a few days and I was starting to get withdrawal symptoms.
Plus I couldn't initially find my thread, it had fallen so far on the page.
Anyway, here's the next update:
* * * * *
Book VI, Part 33
Leaving the unconscious guardsman behind them—Benzan had questioned whether it wouldn’t be better to “finish him off,” but Cal shook his head—they pressed on down the corridor. Lok had taken one of the chain shirts from the slain warriors, and slipped into it. The armor was in poor repair, but it was better than the wool shirt he’d been wearing. He’d also armed himself with one of their longswords, returning Cal’s smaller blade to him. Benzan also took a spare sword, examining its edge dubiously before sliding it into his vacant scabbard. Thus prepared, they resumed their same order, with Benzan out a distance ahead of them, cloaked by the power of his ring, while Lok and Cal followed behind.
The smell told them that they were nearing the chamber of the earlier ambush, even before they rounded a final corner and found themselves back in the pillared chamber. The place looked empty at first glance, but as they entered they could see the pools of blood left on the floor, each surrounded by the squirming forms of thousands of tiny vermin as they fed upon the remains left from the battle. The bodies of the fallen, however, had been carried away. The stench of death was powerful, hanging in the air like a thick fog.
“This way,” Cal said, indicating a nearby door. They headed into the room toward the portal, staying close to the edges of the room. None of them wanted to walk near the bloody vermin-infested patches of floor, and they were wary of another trap.
Benzan paused for a moment, although Cal and Lok barely noticed, as the tiefling’s form was all but part of the darkness around them. Cal’s face looked pale in the soft blue light coming from his sword, and they all looked like shadows, ghosts moving through an oppressive and eternal darkness.
Then they heard a muttered phrase, words that seemed to vanish from the memory as soon as they were heard. Benzan’s shadowed form suddenly spun, and with a twang a white trace darted through the air, flying up into the stone rafters supporting the ceiling above them.
Cal and Lok started in surprise, turning and hefting their weapons. They heard a choked cry from above as Benzan’s arrow hit something, then a small lump fell from the darkness above to land in a heap on the chamber floor.
They quickly moved to examine the thing, Cal poking at its unmoving form with his sword. It wasn’t more than a foot in height, looking like a combination between a rat and a man, clad in a scrap of rags and carrying a tiny crossbow along with a quiver of thin darts. Benzan’s arrow had transfixed him, and a rime of ice from the magical missile coated his torso where the missile had hit and penetrated his body.
“Looks like we found our sniper,” Benzan said.
“That was quite a shot,” Cal said. “How did you know...”
“I saw movement, out of the corner of my eye,” Benzan said. “And I wish I could take full credit for the shot, but it was a magical spell that guided the arrow.”
“Ah, true strike,” Cal observed. “I might have to learn that one myself, someday.”
Wary of any further spies watching their progress, they pressed on through the door that Cal had indicated, and into yet another long passage. They moved swiftly and with purpose, with Cal guiding them with little hesitation whenever they encountered a choice in passages or doors. They passed through a few additional intersections and smaller chambers, until they came to another vaulted hall. Cal immediately turned and directed them to a nearby corner, where another side passage was partially concealed within a deep alcove fronted by a pair of thick stone pillars.
“Hold up,” Benzan’s voice came out of the nearby darkness, as Cal started into the passage.
“This is the way,” Cal said.
“I’m sure it is, but I wouldn’t suggest heading down that passage just yet.” He turned off the power of his ring, and the shadows seemed to flow off of him like water. The mithral links of his armor glistened in the light wherever the chainmail was visible under his cloak and the long tunic underneath.
He knelt in the entry of the passage, examining what looked to the others like a bare patch of unremarkable stone. “Pressure plate here,” he said. “Very nice work—a trigger for some sort of trap, I’d wager.”
“Can you disarm it?” Cal asked.
“It would take time. Better to just bypass it—here, watch where I step, and follow me.”
Benzan led them into the corridor, Cal and Lok following his steps carefully. The corridor widened slightly once they were beyond the initial threshold, until it was wide enough for the three of them to travel abreast, if they were so inclined. Benzan summoned the power of his ring once again and moved ahead of them, scouting carefully for any additional traps. He didn’t find anything, however, and soon the passage turned sharply to the left, and a bright glow became visible up ahead.
“Wait here,” Benzan whispered. “I’ll check it out.”
“Hold a second,” Cal returned. “Where are you?”
Benzan dropped his cloak of shadows briefly, revealing his position.
“I know your ring makes you virtually invisible, but why not have the real thing?” The gnome cast a quick spell, and Benzan faded from sight.
“Thanks.”
“It’ll last for up to an hour, but any sort of attack will cancel the invisibility.”
“I’ll keep that in mind. Be right back.”
Silently the tiefling headed down the passageway, while Cal and Lok waited near the bend in the passage. Cal had sheathed all but an inch or two of his sword, leaving them in almost pure blackness. Lok could see, of course, but to Cal, even with his exceptional vision, everything around him was just a vague shadow, different shades of black jumbled together.
“Once we get done with all this, you’ll have to tell me what’s happened to you since we parted,” Cal whispered to Lok.
“Indeed,” the genasi replied.
They waited there in silence as the seconds drifted into minutes. At one point Cal thought he heard noises back down the passage behind them, but no foes entered the passage where they crouched waiting. Just when they were contemplating heading after Benzan, the tiefling’s voice startled them out of nowhere.
“Hey, did you miss me?”
“We were starting to. What did you discover?” Cal asked.
“It doesn’t look good. There’s a chamber up ahead, and it the back part of it has been turned into another of those defensive fortifications. There’s what looks like a heavily reinforced masonry wall blocking off a large archway in the back, with a pair of massive stone doors recessed under the arch. But that’s just where it gets started. The floor’s been excavated in front of the walls, forming a sloping trench that’s been filled with a veritable forest of sharp metal spikes. Then there’s the wall, a good ten feet high, the top of which has also been set with spikes, along with a series of defensive emplacements where an archer could sit with nearly total cover and take potshots at anyone in the room. There’s torches mounted above the arch behind the wall, enough so that there aren’t many shadows to hide in as you approach the wall. If you hadn’t cast that spell on me, I doubt I’d have been able to get close at all.”
“No break in the wall?” Lok asked.
“No, there’s an iron gate, and what looks like a retractable plank bridge to cross the trench. The gate is recessed deep in the wall under an overhang, and it’s flanked by a pair of arrow slits.”
“Did you see anything about the defenders?” Cal asked.
They couldn’t see his wry grin, but they knew him well enough to know that it was there as he spoke. “Well, of course—I wouldn’t be the master scout that I am if I didn’t climb over there and take a look, would I?”
“And?”
The tiefling’s voice became more serious. “It’s well defended, at least a dozen, same sort of almost random mix of creatures as before. I saw a few of our friends from before—that dwarf, and the dark elf. I only caught a glimpse of the others, but they looked like a hobgoblins and humans, mostly, maybe a kobold or two in the mix.”
“Why didn’t you just kill them all and open the gate for us, then?” Cal chided him.
“Hah. I know you know this already, Cal, but these guys mean business. They’re alert, and they’re expecting trouble. They couldn’t see me, but I think a few of them sensed that something was there when I took a quick look through one of their arrow slits. I wasn’t going to wait around to find out; I made my way back through the trench—very carefully, those spikes are sharp, and covered with poison to boot, I think—and hurried back here.”
“This isn’t going to be easy, not with just the three of us,” he added. “These guys have gotten the jump on us twice now, and we’re not exactly at full strength now.”
Cal straightened. “Nonetheless, we have a few surprises left,” he said. He reached down and open his belt pouch, taking out the cache of scrolls that Alera had given him. He drew his sword fully from its scabbard, surrounding them in a ring of pale blue light.
“What we’ve come for is behind those stone doors,” he told his friends. “We came here to get Nelan, and now we have to find Pelanther as well. Whoever these bastards are, you’re right, Benzan, they’ve gotten the better of us, but now it’s time to return the favor, with interest.”
And as they drew close around him, he outlined his plan.
Plus I couldn't initially find my thread, it had fallen so far on the page.
Anyway, here's the next update:
* * * * *
Book VI, Part 33
Leaving the unconscious guardsman behind them—Benzan had questioned whether it wouldn’t be better to “finish him off,” but Cal shook his head—they pressed on down the corridor. Lok had taken one of the chain shirts from the slain warriors, and slipped into it. The armor was in poor repair, but it was better than the wool shirt he’d been wearing. He’d also armed himself with one of their longswords, returning Cal’s smaller blade to him. Benzan also took a spare sword, examining its edge dubiously before sliding it into his vacant scabbard. Thus prepared, they resumed their same order, with Benzan out a distance ahead of them, cloaked by the power of his ring, while Lok and Cal followed behind.
The smell told them that they were nearing the chamber of the earlier ambush, even before they rounded a final corner and found themselves back in the pillared chamber. The place looked empty at first glance, but as they entered they could see the pools of blood left on the floor, each surrounded by the squirming forms of thousands of tiny vermin as they fed upon the remains left from the battle. The bodies of the fallen, however, had been carried away. The stench of death was powerful, hanging in the air like a thick fog.
“This way,” Cal said, indicating a nearby door. They headed into the room toward the portal, staying close to the edges of the room. None of them wanted to walk near the bloody vermin-infested patches of floor, and they were wary of another trap.
Benzan paused for a moment, although Cal and Lok barely noticed, as the tiefling’s form was all but part of the darkness around them. Cal’s face looked pale in the soft blue light coming from his sword, and they all looked like shadows, ghosts moving through an oppressive and eternal darkness.
Then they heard a muttered phrase, words that seemed to vanish from the memory as soon as they were heard. Benzan’s shadowed form suddenly spun, and with a twang a white trace darted through the air, flying up into the stone rafters supporting the ceiling above them.
Cal and Lok started in surprise, turning and hefting their weapons. They heard a choked cry from above as Benzan’s arrow hit something, then a small lump fell from the darkness above to land in a heap on the chamber floor.
They quickly moved to examine the thing, Cal poking at its unmoving form with his sword. It wasn’t more than a foot in height, looking like a combination between a rat and a man, clad in a scrap of rags and carrying a tiny crossbow along with a quiver of thin darts. Benzan’s arrow had transfixed him, and a rime of ice from the magical missile coated his torso where the missile had hit and penetrated his body.
“Looks like we found our sniper,” Benzan said.
“That was quite a shot,” Cal said. “How did you know...”
“I saw movement, out of the corner of my eye,” Benzan said. “And I wish I could take full credit for the shot, but it was a magical spell that guided the arrow.”
“Ah, true strike,” Cal observed. “I might have to learn that one myself, someday.”
Wary of any further spies watching their progress, they pressed on through the door that Cal had indicated, and into yet another long passage. They moved swiftly and with purpose, with Cal guiding them with little hesitation whenever they encountered a choice in passages or doors. They passed through a few additional intersections and smaller chambers, until they came to another vaulted hall. Cal immediately turned and directed them to a nearby corner, where another side passage was partially concealed within a deep alcove fronted by a pair of thick stone pillars.
“Hold up,” Benzan’s voice came out of the nearby darkness, as Cal started into the passage.
“This is the way,” Cal said.
“I’m sure it is, but I wouldn’t suggest heading down that passage just yet.” He turned off the power of his ring, and the shadows seemed to flow off of him like water. The mithral links of his armor glistened in the light wherever the chainmail was visible under his cloak and the long tunic underneath.
He knelt in the entry of the passage, examining what looked to the others like a bare patch of unremarkable stone. “Pressure plate here,” he said. “Very nice work—a trigger for some sort of trap, I’d wager.”
“Can you disarm it?” Cal asked.
“It would take time. Better to just bypass it—here, watch where I step, and follow me.”
Benzan led them into the corridor, Cal and Lok following his steps carefully. The corridor widened slightly once they were beyond the initial threshold, until it was wide enough for the three of them to travel abreast, if they were so inclined. Benzan summoned the power of his ring once again and moved ahead of them, scouting carefully for any additional traps. He didn’t find anything, however, and soon the passage turned sharply to the left, and a bright glow became visible up ahead.
“Wait here,” Benzan whispered. “I’ll check it out.”
“Hold a second,” Cal returned. “Where are you?”
Benzan dropped his cloak of shadows briefly, revealing his position.
“I know your ring makes you virtually invisible, but why not have the real thing?” The gnome cast a quick spell, and Benzan faded from sight.
“Thanks.”
“It’ll last for up to an hour, but any sort of attack will cancel the invisibility.”
“I’ll keep that in mind. Be right back.”
Silently the tiefling headed down the passageway, while Cal and Lok waited near the bend in the passage. Cal had sheathed all but an inch or two of his sword, leaving them in almost pure blackness. Lok could see, of course, but to Cal, even with his exceptional vision, everything around him was just a vague shadow, different shades of black jumbled together.
“Once we get done with all this, you’ll have to tell me what’s happened to you since we parted,” Cal whispered to Lok.
“Indeed,” the genasi replied.
They waited there in silence as the seconds drifted into minutes. At one point Cal thought he heard noises back down the passage behind them, but no foes entered the passage where they crouched waiting. Just when they were contemplating heading after Benzan, the tiefling’s voice startled them out of nowhere.
“Hey, did you miss me?”
“We were starting to. What did you discover?” Cal asked.
“It doesn’t look good. There’s a chamber up ahead, and it the back part of it has been turned into another of those defensive fortifications. There’s what looks like a heavily reinforced masonry wall blocking off a large archway in the back, with a pair of massive stone doors recessed under the arch. But that’s just where it gets started. The floor’s been excavated in front of the walls, forming a sloping trench that’s been filled with a veritable forest of sharp metal spikes. Then there’s the wall, a good ten feet high, the top of which has also been set with spikes, along with a series of defensive emplacements where an archer could sit with nearly total cover and take potshots at anyone in the room. There’s torches mounted above the arch behind the wall, enough so that there aren’t many shadows to hide in as you approach the wall. If you hadn’t cast that spell on me, I doubt I’d have been able to get close at all.”
“No break in the wall?” Lok asked.
“No, there’s an iron gate, and what looks like a retractable plank bridge to cross the trench. The gate is recessed deep in the wall under an overhang, and it’s flanked by a pair of arrow slits.”
“Did you see anything about the defenders?” Cal asked.
They couldn’t see his wry grin, but they knew him well enough to know that it was there as he spoke. “Well, of course—I wouldn’t be the master scout that I am if I didn’t climb over there and take a look, would I?”
“And?”
The tiefling’s voice became more serious. “It’s well defended, at least a dozen, same sort of almost random mix of creatures as before. I saw a few of our friends from before—that dwarf, and the dark elf. I only caught a glimpse of the others, but they looked like a hobgoblins and humans, mostly, maybe a kobold or two in the mix.”
“Why didn’t you just kill them all and open the gate for us, then?” Cal chided him.
“Hah. I know you know this already, Cal, but these guys mean business. They’re alert, and they’re expecting trouble. They couldn’t see me, but I think a few of them sensed that something was there when I took a quick look through one of their arrow slits. I wasn’t going to wait around to find out; I made my way back through the trench—very carefully, those spikes are sharp, and covered with poison to boot, I think—and hurried back here.”
“This isn’t going to be easy, not with just the three of us,” he added. “These guys have gotten the jump on us twice now, and we’re not exactly at full strength now.”
Cal straightened. “Nonetheless, we have a few surprises left,” he said. He reached down and open his belt pouch, taking out the cache of scrolls that Alera had given him. He drew his sword fully from its scabbard, surrounding them in a ring of pale blue light.
“What we’ve come for is behind those stone doors,” he told his friends. “We came here to get Nelan, and now we have to find Pelanther as well. Whoever these bastards are, you’re right, Benzan, they’ve gotten the better of us, but now it’s time to return the favor, with interest.”
And as they drew close around him, he outlined his plan.
Broccli_Head
Explorer
Yes!
Cal, the master planner is at work again!
Cal, the master planner is at work again!
