Travels through the Wild West: Books V-VIII (Epilogue)
- Thread starter Lazybones
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Lazybones
Adventurer
Hey readers:
I'm running a one-shot tournament-style Neverwinter Nights game this Monday (which is a holiday in the U.S.). If you're not doing anything that day, and would like to enjoy a DM-run actionfest, please drop by Neverwinter Connections and submit an application:
http://www.neverwinterconnections.com/games/index.cfm/fuseaction/displaygame/id/2188.htm
Be sure to mention that you're a reader of this storyhour.
I'm running a one-shot tournament-style Neverwinter Nights game this Monday (which is a holiday in the U.S.). If you're not doing anything that day, and would like to enjoy a DM-run actionfest, please drop by Neverwinter Connections and submit an application:
http://www.neverwinterconnections.com/games/index.cfm/fuseaction/displaygame/id/2188.htm
Be sure to mention that you're a reader of this storyhour.
Lazybones
Adventurer
Thanks wolff! By the way, I've moved my NWN tournament game to Wednesday evening, if any of you want to participate. Same link above will take you there.
* * * * *
Book VI, Part 37
“Nelan!” Cal cried, favoring his wounded side where his nephew’s blade—a small sword, little more than a dagger—had torn into him.
“You shouldn’t have come here, uncle,” the young gnome said as he circled around, his weapon slick with Cal’s blood. There was no anger or hatred in his eyes, just a look of focus as he sought another weakness in Cal’s defenses.
In the center of the chamber, the desperate battle with the deepspawn raged on. Lok staggered as he took another hit, but returned with a powerful blow from his claws that tore another deep gash in the thick flesh of the creature. The deepspawn was seriously wounded, but as Lok lunged forward to strike with his mandibles he suddenly stiffened. Once again the mental energies of the creature poured into him, backed by the full power that resided in the warped intelligence of the thing. Again Lok dug deep into himself to try to resist the magic, but battered as he was, he found himself slipping, falling into the power of the creature as it washed over his tired mind.
His limbs dropped and stiffened, and he froze there, paralyzed.
But before the creature could press its advantage over its foe, a gleaming line of metal flashed in the torchlight, and a fresh wound erupted in the wrinkled flesh of its bloated body. A terrible sound erupted from the creature, and its tentacles lashed at the new attacker, but Benzan, still shrouded by invisibility, had already moved to a new location. He had reclaimed his sword, half-buried in the pile of treasure. Its intelligence and alignment had made it an unsuitable choice for the deepspawn and its minions, and it had thus been discarded as just another item for its treasure hoard.
“Die already, you ugly—umph!”
His words were cut off as a tentacle clutching a battleaxe slammed into him, and fat drops of blood appeared as they splattered on the piled coins. As he moved the loose items piled in the mound shifted, giving away his position, a subtle clue that the canny monster exploited to the fullest.
Still, the creature was obviously hurt, the massive ball of its form rent by the terrible cuts and gashes inflicted upon it by Lok’s powerful strikes and Benzan’s one sneak attack. But as the tiefling watched in dawning horror, the creature began to glow with a soft blue light that surrounded it like a nimbus, and it seemed to swell as the gaping wounds across its body knit together.
Within moments the creature was whole again, virtually undamaged.
Benzan barely managed to dodge another powerful strike, and a tentacle slammed into the ground, scattering coins and other loose items. Although no one could see it, the tiefling’s face twisted into a look of grim resignation. He’d seen the damage that Lok had unleashed upon the thing before it healed itself, and knew that he had no chance against it, even protected by invisibility as he was. But he also knew that if he fled, it would tear Lok to pieces. Even as he watched a loose tentacle wrapped around the immobile umber hulk, wrapped around him and started to squeeze. For a moment Benzan met the eyes of the strange creature, eyes that held Lok’s intelligence within them. The look he saw in those eyes was beseeching; not begging aid, but asking him to flee, to save himself from the wrath of the terrible creature.
Benzan wanted to flee, wanted to live. But instead of running, as he ducked under another powerful stroke from a tentacle-grasped weapon, he let out a wild cry and charged at the creature, coins scattering beneath him with every step.
Cal held up his hand, palm outstretched, as if that could keep his nephew at bay. “Nelan, what are you doing? Whatever that thing’s doing to you, you have to fight it!”
“I cannot fight the Master,” the youth said. “He is part of me, and I am part of him. You will understand, soon enough.” With that he lunged again, the gleaming blade darting in again.
Cal did not attack, did not even try to defend himself. Instead, he shifted and held his hand out to his side, outstretched toward the ceiling. Even as his nephew struck at him again, and the chamber echoed with the sound of Benzan’s desperate cry, the gnome wizard called upon the power of his ring, forcing its power against the pillar he’d targeted earlier. The stone column sagged. Its ancient bulk would have easily held against the limited push of the ring, but now both its own weight and that added force pressed down upon soft flesh, not hard and unyielding stone. With a heavy crack the pillar shifted, breaking apart from the ceiling, toppling slowly but inexorably as gravity took over and dragged it down. The upper part of the pillar, a massive cylinder of solid stone, fell where Cal had pushed it, falling with a heavy plop solidly onto the huge bubble of the deepspawn’s body. Its tentacles flailed out wildly as it sagged down into its pile of ill-gotten booty, screeching in agony.
For a moment, all those present looked on in stunned silence as the creature thrashed about, scattering coins about that jingled as they landed on the hard stone of the floor and walls. Then, slowly at first, the deepspawn began to lift itself up, lashing out with tentacles that grabbed onto other nearby pillars. With a terrible sound the huge body rose up out of the pile, the tentacles straining as it heaved the massive weight of the pillar up off of it. Lok, still gripped by the deepspawn’s paralysis, was flung roughly aside, and the fanged mouths of the creature issued a harsh screech from the tips of their tentacles.
But even as the heavy stone fell free, and the deepspawn lifted itself up into the air, its body suddenly quivered. A tear opened up in its thick body, a gash that widened as it tore longer across its fat form. Blood sprayed out from the wound, splattering on the invisible form of Benzan. The tiefling’s sword, arm, and part of his torso were outlined by the grim coating, making him seem like a disembodied spirit as he released the levitation power of his sword and let his weight pull the blade deeper into the creature’s body.
The deepspawn thrashed in agony, its tentacles flailing blindly around it. One slammed hard into Benzan’s chest, knocking him roughly aside. He landed on the edges of the pile of coins and slid, scattering pieces of gold and silver before him out into the hall. Finally he came to a stop, and slowly lifted himself up off of the ground.
On the far side of the battlefield, Nelan and elf archer both screamed and dropped their weapons, clutching at their heads with both hands. Smaller cries echoed from the galleries above, presumably from the creature’s jermlaine allies that had been sniping from their concealed positions there. The deepspawn’s struggles weakened as it sank back down into the treasure pile, and finally, with a last sigh of escaping air, it deflated into an inert heap of oozing flesh.
Nelan crumpled like a discarded puppet, falling in a motionless pile to the floor. The elf archer staggered a few steps, his features vague and confused, then finally turned and ran toward the exit of the chamber. Cal did not move to stop him, fixed as he was upon the unmoving form of his cousin. His flesh was clammy to the touch, and he did not respond to Cal’s prodding, but he seemed alive, if barely. Cal applied his wand of healing to the young gnome, but while the blue glow of healing seeped into the unconscious figure, his condition remained unchanged.
Relieved at least that his cousin lived, Cal rose and crossed to where Lok, still paralyzed, lay sprawled heavily across the floor. He cast a spell and the outline of the umber hulk shimmered, fading and shrinking until the familiar genasi was lying there instead. With the paralysis dispelled Lok rose unsteadily, his body covered with bloody gashes and dark bruises. Cal offered his friend a potion, which the warrior consumed quickly. Even as he finished the draught his wounds were already beginning to close, healed at least partially by the potent magic placed within the liquid by the priests of Oghma.
“Cal, you’d better come over here,” Benzan’s said. The tiefling was standing atop the treasure pile beside the limp form of the deepspawn, its massive body dwarfing the man even in death.
Lok and Cal moved to join him, careful with their steps on the blood-slicked pile of loose coins. There were other items in the hoard as well, but their attention wasn’t on the wealth right now; there would be ample time for that later.
They joined Benzan, and followed his gaze to a dark form that had been ejected from the deepspawn’s body during its death throes. The form was little more than a vague lump of shapeless flesh, an imperfect outline of what might have been a humanoid creature. It wasn’t large, perhaps Cal’s size, and while it was impossible to identify, its “face” just a blank bulge in the larger mass, somehow Cal knew instinctively what it was. His breath caught in his chest, and he shook as tears fell down his face.
“I’m sorry, Cal,” Lok said.
“So that is how it was,” Benzan said, his own features a mix of sadness and disgust. “The thing... grew them, created its minions... no wonder they were so fanatically loyal, they were just...” He broke off, unable to finish his thought.
Cal looked back over his shoulder, to where Nelan lay on the stone, still apparently lifeless. “Let’s clear this place out, and get out of here. We’ll take what we can of this...” he gestured to the pile of treasure. “I don’t know, maybe we can come back for the rest,” he said, speaking primarily to Benzan.
But the tiefling shook his head. “I don’t want to come back here,” he said.
With grim faces the three of them went about their work, leaving behind them all that was left of Pelanther, along with the corpse of yet another defeated adversary.
* * * * *
Book VI, Part 37
“Nelan!” Cal cried, favoring his wounded side where his nephew’s blade—a small sword, little more than a dagger—had torn into him.
“You shouldn’t have come here, uncle,” the young gnome said as he circled around, his weapon slick with Cal’s blood. There was no anger or hatred in his eyes, just a look of focus as he sought another weakness in Cal’s defenses.
In the center of the chamber, the desperate battle with the deepspawn raged on. Lok staggered as he took another hit, but returned with a powerful blow from his claws that tore another deep gash in the thick flesh of the creature. The deepspawn was seriously wounded, but as Lok lunged forward to strike with his mandibles he suddenly stiffened. Once again the mental energies of the creature poured into him, backed by the full power that resided in the warped intelligence of the thing. Again Lok dug deep into himself to try to resist the magic, but battered as he was, he found himself slipping, falling into the power of the creature as it washed over his tired mind.
His limbs dropped and stiffened, and he froze there, paralyzed.
But before the creature could press its advantage over its foe, a gleaming line of metal flashed in the torchlight, and a fresh wound erupted in the wrinkled flesh of its bloated body. A terrible sound erupted from the creature, and its tentacles lashed at the new attacker, but Benzan, still shrouded by invisibility, had already moved to a new location. He had reclaimed his sword, half-buried in the pile of treasure. Its intelligence and alignment had made it an unsuitable choice for the deepspawn and its minions, and it had thus been discarded as just another item for its treasure hoard.
“Die already, you ugly—umph!”
His words were cut off as a tentacle clutching a battleaxe slammed into him, and fat drops of blood appeared as they splattered on the piled coins. As he moved the loose items piled in the mound shifted, giving away his position, a subtle clue that the canny monster exploited to the fullest.
Still, the creature was obviously hurt, the massive ball of its form rent by the terrible cuts and gashes inflicted upon it by Lok’s powerful strikes and Benzan’s one sneak attack. But as the tiefling watched in dawning horror, the creature began to glow with a soft blue light that surrounded it like a nimbus, and it seemed to swell as the gaping wounds across its body knit together.
Within moments the creature was whole again, virtually undamaged.
Benzan barely managed to dodge another powerful strike, and a tentacle slammed into the ground, scattering coins and other loose items. Although no one could see it, the tiefling’s face twisted into a look of grim resignation. He’d seen the damage that Lok had unleashed upon the thing before it healed itself, and knew that he had no chance against it, even protected by invisibility as he was. But he also knew that if he fled, it would tear Lok to pieces. Even as he watched a loose tentacle wrapped around the immobile umber hulk, wrapped around him and started to squeeze. For a moment Benzan met the eyes of the strange creature, eyes that held Lok’s intelligence within them. The look he saw in those eyes was beseeching; not begging aid, but asking him to flee, to save himself from the wrath of the terrible creature.
Benzan wanted to flee, wanted to live. But instead of running, as he ducked under another powerful stroke from a tentacle-grasped weapon, he let out a wild cry and charged at the creature, coins scattering beneath him with every step.
Cal held up his hand, palm outstretched, as if that could keep his nephew at bay. “Nelan, what are you doing? Whatever that thing’s doing to you, you have to fight it!”
“I cannot fight the Master,” the youth said. “He is part of me, and I am part of him. You will understand, soon enough.” With that he lunged again, the gleaming blade darting in again.
Cal did not attack, did not even try to defend himself. Instead, he shifted and held his hand out to his side, outstretched toward the ceiling. Even as his nephew struck at him again, and the chamber echoed with the sound of Benzan’s desperate cry, the gnome wizard called upon the power of his ring, forcing its power against the pillar he’d targeted earlier. The stone column sagged. Its ancient bulk would have easily held against the limited push of the ring, but now both its own weight and that added force pressed down upon soft flesh, not hard and unyielding stone. With a heavy crack the pillar shifted, breaking apart from the ceiling, toppling slowly but inexorably as gravity took over and dragged it down. The upper part of the pillar, a massive cylinder of solid stone, fell where Cal had pushed it, falling with a heavy plop solidly onto the huge bubble of the deepspawn’s body. Its tentacles flailed out wildly as it sagged down into its pile of ill-gotten booty, screeching in agony.
For a moment, all those present looked on in stunned silence as the creature thrashed about, scattering coins about that jingled as they landed on the hard stone of the floor and walls. Then, slowly at first, the deepspawn began to lift itself up, lashing out with tentacles that grabbed onto other nearby pillars. With a terrible sound the huge body rose up out of the pile, the tentacles straining as it heaved the massive weight of the pillar up off of it. Lok, still gripped by the deepspawn’s paralysis, was flung roughly aside, and the fanged mouths of the creature issued a harsh screech from the tips of their tentacles.
But even as the heavy stone fell free, and the deepspawn lifted itself up into the air, its body suddenly quivered. A tear opened up in its thick body, a gash that widened as it tore longer across its fat form. Blood sprayed out from the wound, splattering on the invisible form of Benzan. The tiefling’s sword, arm, and part of his torso were outlined by the grim coating, making him seem like a disembodied spirit as he released the levitation power of his sword and let his weight pull the blade deeper into the creature’s body.
The deepspawn thrashed in agony, its tentacles flailing blindly around it. One slammed hard into Benzan’s chest, knocking him roughly aside. He landed on the edges of the pile of coins and slid, scattering pieces of gold and silver before him out into the hall. Finally he came to a stop, and slowly lifted himself up off of the ground.
On the far side of the battlefield, Nelan and elf archer both screamed and dropped their weapons, clutching at their heads with both hands. Smaller cries echoed from the galleries above, presumably from the creature’s jermlaine allies that had been sniping from their concealed positions there. The deepspawn’s struggles weakened as it sank back down into the treasure pile, and finally, with a last sigh of escaping air, it deflated into an inert heap of oozing flesh.
Nelan crumpled like a discarded puppet, falling in a motionless pile to the floor. The elf archer staggered a few steps, his features vague and confused, then finally turned and ran toward the exit of the chamber. Cal did not move to stop him, fixed as he was upon the unmoving form of his cousin. His flesh was clammy to the touch, and he did not respond to Cal’s prodding, but he seemed alive, if barely. Cal applied his wand of healing to the young gnome, but while the blue glow of healing seeped into the unconscious figure, his condition remained unchanged.
Relieved at least that his cousin lived, Cal rose and crossed to where Lok, still paralyzed, lay sprawled heavily across the floor. He cast a spell and the outline of the umber hulk shimmered, fading and shrinking until the familiar genasi was lying there instead. With the paralysis dispelled Lok rose unsteadily, his body covered with bloody gashes and dark bruises. Cal offered his friend a potion, which the warrior consumed quickly. Even as he finished the draught his wounds were already beginning to close, healed at least partially by the potent magic placed within the liquid by the priests of Oghma.
“Cal, you’d better come over here,” Benzan’s said. The tiefling was standing atop the treasure pile beside the limp form of the deepspawn, its massive body dwarfing the man even in death.
Lok and Cal moved to join him, careful with their steps on the blood-slicked pile of loose coins. There were other items in the hoard as well, but their attention wasn’t on the wealth right now; there would be ample time for that later.
They joined Benzan, and followed his gaze to a dark form that had been ejected from the deepspawn’s body during its death throes. The form was little more than a vague lump of shapeless flesh, an imperfect outline of what might have been a humanoid creature. It wasn’t large, perhaps Cal’s size, and while it was impossible to identify, its “face” just a blank bulge in the larger mass, somehow Cal knew instinctively what it was. His breath caught in his chest, and he shook as tears fell down his face.
“I’m sorry, Cal,” Lok said.
“So that is how it was,” Benzan said, his own features a mix of sadness and disgust. “The thing... grew them, created its minions... no wonder they were so fanatically loyal, they were just...” He broke off, unable to finish his thought.
Cal looked back over his shoulder, to where Nelan lay on the stone, still apparently lifeless. “Let’s clear this place out, and get out of here. We’ll take what we can of this...” he gestured to the pile of treasure. “I don’t know, maybe we can come back for the rest,” he said, speaking primarily to Benzan.
But the tiefling shook his head. “I don’t want to come back here,” he said.
With grim faces the three of them went about their work, leaving behind them all that was left of Pelanther, along with the corpse of yet another defeated adversary.
Wow.
That was an awesome fight...
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Now, hopefully you'll pardon my confusion, since I'm not familiar with Deepspawn. From the end of the episode, I take it that the Deepspawn consumed those it captured and then created a duplicate that was fully under it's control?
So Pel and Nelan are both dead and the Nelan that tried to kill Cal was just a duplicate of the original?
That was an awesome fight...
---------------------------
Now, hopefully you'll pardon my confusion, since I'm not familiar with Deepspawn. From the end of the episode, I take it that the Deepspawn consumed those it captured and then created a duplicate that was fully under it's control?
So Pel and Nelan are both dead and the Nelan that tried to kill Cal was just a duplicate of the original?
Lazybones
Adventurer
Yup, that's about it. Here's a link to a 2nd ed version:
http://home.onego.ru/~adnd/pages/frms/fr_ms_004.htm
Note that in the 3e Monsters of Faerun, spawn retain their spell-casting abilities.
It's never clearly explained what happens to the spawn after the mother beast dies, so Nelan's fate is up to the whim of the author. Remember I like dangly plot threads though...
Final post of Book VI tomorrow, with that twist I noted earlier (wolff will like it, he gave me the idea back aways). Book VII will begin with a similar hop forward a short period in time, as events in the Western Heartlands begin to come to a head...
http://home.onego.ru/~adnd/pages/frms/fr_ms_004.htm
Note that in the 3e Monsters of Faerun, spawn retain their spell-casting abilities.
It's never clearly explained what happens to the spawn after the mother beast dies, so Nelan's fate is up to the whim of the author. Remember I like dangly plot threads though...
Final post of Book VI tomorrow, with that twist I noted earlier (wolff will like it, he gave me the idea back aways). Book VII will begin with a similar hop forward a short period in time, as events in the Western Heartlands begin to come to a head...
Lazybones said:
Thanks. I thought that's what you were getting at, but I wasn't sure. Too bad for the gnomes...
From the link:
Hmm... A d20 plus strength to get loose. I think we just found the origin of the grappling rules from 3e!
Ooh! Ooh! I think I know what's going to happen... Muhahaha. If I'm right, it involves Delem and you are an evil, evil man.
