Travels through the Wild West: Books V-VIII (Epilogue)
- Thread starter Lazybones
- Start date
LuYangShih
First Post
So, why not give him Fighter levels? 
Seriously, I understand, I was just a bit puzzled as, from what I know of the Blood War, anyone who spent that long fighting in it and lived would have to be at least 16th-20th level. Still, my knowledge of all of that is limited and Delem is intimidating enough as it is. 
It's great that you update so often. I really love reading this stuff. These Demons rock. I'll have to pick up the MM2.
Seriously, I understand, I was just a bit puzzled as, from what I know of the Blood War, anyone who spent that long fighting in it and lived would have to be at least 16th-20th level. Still, my knowledge of all of that is limited and Delem is intimidating enough as it is. It's great that you update so often. I really love reading this stuff. These Demons rock. I'll have to pick up the MM2.
LuYangShih
First Post
Hey, I was browsing through the Rules forum, and I came across this link; http://www.wizards.com/dnd/article.asp?x=dnd/ei/ei20021208a
If Delem lasts long enough against the Heroes, maybe he'll get some of that. Seriously, I'm very intrigued by the Acolyte Of The Skin PrC. I'm a warrior man myself, but this class is really unique and interesting to me.
If Delem lasts long enough against the Heroes, maybe he'll get some of that.
Seriously, I'm very intrigued by the Acolyte Of The Skin PrC. I'm a warrior man myself, but this class is really unique and interesting to me.whew......I haven't posted in a really long time, but I'm still here. Life got in the way, but I have finally caught up on my story hour reading, and I have to say that this is the only story hour that holds my attention no matter what. Lazybones, you are an amazing writer, and even if I disappear for a while, I will always be back for more!
Lazybones
Adventurer
Epic characters... interesting stuff on the epic PrCs, but I've already decided that Book 8 will mark the end of Travels. I've already got the main plotline established and I can promise an epic (not in the ELH sense, though) conclusion to the saga.
I'm glad you like the jovoc; that's one nasty little guy. Inspired by the story and the reaction to it, I've just implemented a jovoc in my newest Neverwinter Nights module. I took a large gnome model, turned its skin pure black, and gave it a custom outfit that turned part of its arms and hands bright red. It looks very scary (if small!). The Aura of Retribution power isn't available in NWN, but I think I might be able to script it without too much trouble. Until then, I gave it +5 Vampiric Regeneration, so whenever it hits a foe, it sucks the life out of em... heh heh. The lion and assassin demons from the MM2 will also likely make an appearance in the module, since they'll be pretty easy to convert over.
For more info on my and many other great NWN campaigns, visit www.neverwinterconnections.com.
Glad to see you back, Talindra! Perfect timing, especially since we're heading for a direct confrontation between your favorite character and our present villain/victim!
And tomorrow's Friday, so you know what that means. But first, today's update:
* * * * *
Book VII, Part 49
“A fiend of some sort, by your description,” Cal said.
He and his companions sat around a flickering fire inside one of the huts. They were alone—all agreed that including the survivors of Asbravn in their discussion would likely only induce a panic. Already they had stationed double guards around the stockade, although they would be of dubious utility in the darkness if the small black creature returned.
“At least I hurt it,” Lariel said. “It might elect not to return tonight.”
“It sounds like a canny beast,” Cal said thoughtfully. “It avoided the one foe that could truly hurt it, and struck in such a way to draw you away from the others.”
Benzan, on the other side of the fire, frowned, his face wearing a deeply thoughtful expression that he’d had since they’d returned here. Every now again he would shake his head, as if disagreeing with some imaginary conversant. Dana, sitting beside him, covertly shot worried looks in his direction, but the others, confronted with more immediate concerns, continued their exchange.
“It would seem that we are not alone here after all,” Lok said. “Logically, this thing came from beyond those statues in the underground complex.”
“Yes,” Lariel said. “But we still have no way to go after it.”
“In any case there’s little we can do about it tonight. I suggest we all take turns on watch—it’ll be a long night, and even with the help from the townsfolk I’m not comfortable with our abilities to defend the wall. We’ve done what we can to make the huts secure, but we’ll need to be able to respond quickly to an alarm. At least the rain finally seems to be easing off some, so we should be able to keep torches lit in the center of the camp. With that, at least, hopefully we can spot anything trying to come over the wall before it can get inside.”
“Benzan, are you up to sitting first watch? Your darkvision will be a useful aid.”
The tiefling looked distracted, and only belatedly realized that they were all looking at him. “Um, yeah, all right.”
Lariel nodded. “I’ll watch too. I don’t think I’ll be able to rest much anyway, not after seeing that... thing...”
“I’ll stay up too,” Dana said, with a meaningful glance at Benzan. The tiefling, however, did not notice, wrapped up again in whatever mental puzzle had distracted him earlier.
“No, Dana, you need to rest,” Cal told her. “You used your powers heavily today, and I have no doubt that we will require Selûne’s watchful intervention again tomorrow.”
With that, they retired to their bedrolls or to their watch positions. Those townsfolk not confined within the cramped space of the huts took up their stations with apprehension clearly written on their faces. Lariel and Benzan checked the wall and set torches, and the camp settled down to an uneasy rest.
* * * * *
Dana stirred uneasily in her sleep, groaning softly as images tormented her. It was a familiar nightmare, one that featured dark places and torments not quite seen out of the corner of her eye. Through it she could hear Delem, alternately calling out in pain for her aid one moment, and then angrily berating her for abandoning him the next. She kept walking the dream, shifting from one locale to the next, unable to trace the voice to its source, with each further step feeling increasingly mired in an oppressive sense of helplessness and despair.
Then, with a shift so abrupt that it jarred her even within the dream, she was someplace... different. She was in a vague expanse of muted outlines and soft colors, a place that felt curiously unfinished. The dread she had felt was gone, and with it the memories of the nightmare faded, replaced by a soft feeling of comfort. This was like a womb, in the comforting embrace of a familiar mother.
She drifted for a time, then something began to take on a distinct form ahead of her. It was a familiar sight, a dark tunnel warded by a pair of stone statues carved from the lintel stones of the opening. In the real world, being in this place had produced feelings of uneasiness; here, there was just the faintest twinge at the edges of her thoughts.
What am I doing here? she thought.
As if in answer, a voice sounded in the back of her mind, filling her. You will be tested, daughter, drawn into a confrontation that will be more of a trial than you have yet faced. You must be strong, and trust yourself, or you will fall far, beyond the reach of the light...
The words sifted into her consciousness, but here in the dream she felt only a vague confusion at their meaning. The voice continued.
The Guardians are strong, silent sentinels that have watched since a time when the world was young. But they are creatures of darkness that cannot withstand the Mother’s light.
The image before her dissolved, and she was falling away, the dream drifting apart from her. With regret, she drifted herself, unable to do anything but be carried back toward wakefulness.
She opened her eyes. The hut was quiet, dark, the sound of rain on the roof above mercifully absent. Silently she gathered her cloak and stole from the hut, out into the camp. It was still late, deep in the night, and a silence hung over the valley like an all-encompassing presence. Around the edge of the hut she could just see Lok, Cal, and a number of the townsfolk keeping watch in the center of the camp. Torches flickered around the perimeter, banishing the shadows back to the stockade, where darkness loomed around them like a wall.
Her gaze was drawn upward, to the vast gray expanse of the night sky. There, like a slash, was a rift in the clouds that seemed to widen as she watched. From within that opening glimmered the brilliance of the moon, Selûne’s heavenly form currently half-full, a bulging crescent that cast a faint luminance upon her face. She closed her eyes and gloried in that touch, could feel the power in that pale light.
She had not slept long, perhaps half the night, but she felt fresh and rested. Careful not to disturb the watchers, she walked a short distance away, her bare feet squishing in the mud, and knelt upon a bare spot of earth. Her cloak fell back, exposing her shoulders, and the moonlight seemed to make her skin glow.
Opening her mind to her goddess, Dana prayed.
I'm glad you like the jovoc; that's one nasty little guy. Inspired by the story and the reaction to it, I've just implemented a jovoc in my newest Neverwinter Nights module. I took a large gnome model, turned its skin pure black, and gave it a custom outfit that turned part of its arms and hands bright red. It looks very scary (if small!). The Aura of Retribution power isn't available in NWN, but I think I might be able to script it without too much trouble. Until then, I gave it +5 Vampiric Regeneration, so whenever it hits a foe, it sucks the life out of em... heh heh. The lion and assassin demons from the MM2 will also likely make an appearance in the module, since they'll be pretty easy to convert over.
For more info on my and many other great NWN campaigns, visit www.neverwinterconnections.com.
Glad to see you back, Talindra! Perfect timing, especially since we're heading for a direct confrontation between your favorite character and our present villain/victim!
And tomorrow's Friday, so you know what that means. But first, today's update:
* * * * *
Book VII, Part 49
“A fiend of some sort, by your description,” Cal said.
He and his companions sat around a flickering fire inside one of the huts. They were alone—all agreed that including the survivors of Asbravn in their discussion would likely only induce a panic. Already they had stationed double guards around the stockade, although they would be of dubious utility in the darkness if the small black creature returned.
“At least I hurt it,” Lariel said. “It might elect not to return tonight.”
“It sounds like a canny beast,” Cal said thoughtfully. “It avoided the one foe that could truly hurt it, and struck in such a way to draw you away from the others.”
Benzan, on the other side of the fire, frowned, his face wearing a deeply thoughtful expression that he’d had since they’d returned here. Every now again he would shake his head, as if disagreeing with some imaginary conversant. Dana, sitting beside him, covertly shot worried looks in his direction, but the others, confronted with more immediate concerns, continued their exchange.
“It would seem that we are not alone here after all,” Lok said. “Logically, this thing came from beyond those statues in the underground complex.”
“Yes,” Lariel said. “But we still have no way to go after it.”
“In any case there’s little we can do about it tonight. I suggest we all take turns on watch—it’ll be a long night, and even with the help from the townsfolk I’m not comfortable with our abilities to defend the wall. We’ve done what we can to make the huts secure, but we’ll need to be able to respond quickly to an alarm. At least the rain finally seems to be easing off some, so we should be able to keep torches lit in the center of the camp. With that, at least, hopefully we can spot anything trying to come over the wall before it can get inside.”
“Benzan, are you up to sitting first watch? Your darkvision will be a useful aid.”
The tiefling looked distracted, and only belatedly realized that they were all looking at him. “Um, yeah, all right.”
Lariel nodded. “I’ll watch too. I don’t think I’ll be able to rest much anyway, not after seeing that... thing...”
“I’ll stay up too,” Dana said, with a meaningful glance at Benzan. The tiefling, however, did not notice, wrapped up again in whatever mental puzzle had distracted him earlier.
“No, Dana, you need to rest,” Cal told her. “You used your powers heavily today, and I have no doubt that we will require Selûne’s watchful intervention again tomorrow.”
With that, they retired to their bedrolls or to their watch positions. Those townsfolk not confined within the cramped space of the huts took up their stations with apprehension clearly written on their faces. Lariel and Benzan checked the wall and set torches, and the camp settled down to an uneasy rest.
* * * * *
Dana stirred uneasily in her sleep, groaning softly as images tormented her. It was a familiar nightmare, one that featured dark places and torments not quite seen out of the corner of her eye. Through it she could hear Delem, alternately calling out in pain for her aid one moment, and then angrily berating her for abandoning him the next. She kept walking the dream, shifting from one locale to the next, unable to trace the voice to its source, with each further step feeling increasingly mired in an oppressive sense of helplessness and despair.
Then, with a shift so abrupt that it jarred her even within the dream, she was someplace... different. She was in a vague expanse of muted outlines and soft colors, a place that felt curiously unfinished. The dread she had felt was gone, and with it the memories of the nightmare faded, replaced by a soft feeling of comfort. This was like a womb, in the comforting embrace of a familiar mother.
She drifted for a time, then something began to take on a distinct form ahead of her. It was a familiar sight, a dark tunnel warded by a pair of stone statues carved from the lintel stones of the opening. In the real world, being in this place had produced feelings of uneasiness; here, there was just the faintest twinge at the edges of her thoughts.
What am I doing here? she thought.
As if in answer, a voice sounded in the back of her mind, filling her. You will be tested, daughter, drawn into a confrontation that will be more of a trial than you have yet faced. You must be strong, and trust yourself, or you will fall far, beyond the reach of the light...
The words sifted into her consciousness, but here in the dream she felt only a vague confusion at their meaning. The voice continued.
The Guardians are strong, silent sentinels that have watched since a time when the world was young. But they are creatures of darkness that cannot withstand the Mother’s light.
The image before her dissolved, and she was falling away, the dream drifting apart from her. With regret, she drifted herself, unable to do anything but be carried back toward wakefulness.
She opened her eyes. The hut was quiet, dark, the sound of rain on the roof above mercifully absent. Silently she gathered her cloak and stole from the hut, out into the camp. It was still late, deep in the night, and a silence hung over the valley like an all-encompassing presence. Around the edge of the hut she could just see Lok, Cal, and a number of the townsfolk keeping watch in the center of the camp. Torches flickered around the perimeter, banishing the shadows back to the stockade, where darkness loomed around them like a wall.
Her gaze was drawn upward, to the vast gray expanse of the night sky. There, like a slash, was a rift in the clouds that seemed to widen as she watched. From within that opening glimmered the brilliance of the moon, Selûne’s heavenly form currently half-full, a bulging crescent that cast a faint luminance upon her face. She closed her eyes and gloried in that touch, could feel the power in that pale light.
She had not slept long, perhaps half the night, but she felt fresh and rested. Careful not to disturb the watchers, she walked a short distance away, her bare feet squishing in the mud, and knelt upon a bare spot of earth. Her cloak fell back, exposing her shoulders, and the moonlight seemed to make her skin glow.
Opening her mind to her goddess, Dana prayed.
LuYangShih
First Post
No epic action? Damn. Ah well. Nice update, but I want more Demon Action!
Lazybones
Adventurer
And you shall have it! Friday cliffhanger!LuYangShih said:No epic action? Damn. Ah well. Nice update, but I want more Demon Action!
* * * * *
Book VII, Part 50
The night passed uneventfully, and with the dawn came the brightest day they had seen in some time. Although lingering clouds covered most of the sky above, the storm had pressed on to the east, into the depths of the Sunset Mountains.
By the time that the full light of the day had dawned over the valley, it revealed the five companions already trudging across the muddy slope toward the dark tunnel in the cliff face. They moved silently with grim determination. There was no need for conversation at this point; they had discussed their plans over a hasty predawn breakfast in the shelter of their hut, and were now committed to uncovering the mystery of this place once and for all.
Once more they moved into the dark passage, leaving the outer world behind them. Dana’s magical brand pushed back the darkness, and they moved down the familiar length of corridor to the threshold where the two stone guardians waited.
There was no hesitation. Dana stepped forward, and boldly called upon the power of her goddess, speaking the words of a prayer with a force that echoed them through the room and down the corridor to fade into nothing. There was a faint crackling in the air as the divine energy flowed through her, and a beam of liquid moonlight, identical to the radiance that she had soaked up the night before, erupted from her hands and played over the statues.
A groaning noise filled the air, coming from nowhere and everywhere at once, and they thought they could hear the faintest echo of a shriek, gone so quickly that they were not certain they had not imagined it. But then, with an audible crack, the stone forms of both statues snapped, a long line a finger’s breadth across opening down the middle of their bodies, stone dust falling to the floor in motes that gleamed in the light of Dana’s moonlight. Then silence returned to the room, as Dana’s spell ended and the illumination faded to the light of her torch.
Benzan stepped forward warily, until he reached the entrance of the corridor. “The ward, it’s gone,” he reported.
With the tiefling in the lead, the companions pressed on, deeper into the complex. The second tunnel was of the same construction as the outer area, smooth walls and right angles despite the absence of any signs of toolwork or deliberate carving. But as they moved deeper into the mountain the stone itself seemed to change, darkening until it was almost black.
After an interminable time and distance, the corridor opened onto a small room, perhaps ten paces to a side. The place was absolutely bare, absent even of dust that could identify whether someone had come this way recently. Two passages identical to the one through which they’d entered led away, and after an inconclusive scan of both they took the tunnel to their left.
“We’re going down,” Lok reported after they’d covered a short distance. “The slope is very faint, but it’s there.”
“Seems like a lot of effort, to make such long corridors,” Cal offered.
No one else offered comments as they pressed on. The mood in this place was heavy, oppressive. Benzan, ten paces ahead of them, gestured back for them to slow, and a moment later Dana’s light revealed that the passage opened onto a larger space ahead.
They passed through another lintel of massive blocks of undressed stone to enter a large chamber. This one was easily a hundred paces across and at least that in depth, as the edges of their light was reached before they could see the far wall. Fat squared pillars rose in twin rows across the room, forming corridors to either side of the central avenue before them. There was no detailed stonework, no decoration or embellishment, only the same rough angles and simple, massive construction.
Benzan had already crossed to the nearest pillar on their right. “There’s a number of exits to the side, more corridors,” he said, keeping his voice low so as not to echo in the vastness of this space.
“Let’s continue, and search here, before we move on,” Cal suggested. “Stay together.”
They pressed ahead, staying to the central avenue, checking to the sides as they went. They marked each side passage they passed warily, but nothing emerged from the darkness to threaten them. Finally, the creeping edge of their light revealed an end to the chamber. Five steep steps of jagged stone led up to a raised dais upon which stood another wide lintel and another dark tunnel.
“We’re not alone,” Lariel said suddenly, his bow in his hands, an arrow nocked and tension on the string, ready to be drawn and fired at an instant’s notice. He was at the rear of the group, staring back at the darkness that had caught up behind them.
Then they could all sense it, the faintest hint of scraping on the stone, hints of movement in the surrounding shadows. Close, but not near enough for revelation by the light. Dana held the torch up high, driving back the darkness a pace further, but within that ring of illumination only they moved.
“Look!” Cal hissed in warning.
They turned back to the dark tunnel ahead, atop the dais, where a light had appeared out of nowhere. For a moment they could not identify it, then, suddenly, it resolved into a gaunt humanoid form, wreathed in a nimbus of living flames, that stepped forward into the chamber. Beside it, difficult to mark against the presence of the other, trod the squat demon that they had encountered earlier. At least it looked like the same creature; there was no sign of the wound that Lariel had inflicted upon it.
The two demons fixed the companions with baleful looks, but they made no move to attack. The companions readied weapons and spells, but held their ground. And then, behind the demons, a third figure stepped into the room.
He appeared unremarkable in contrast to the two monstrosities that flanked him, a man in a dark cloak that covered his face in a heavy cowl. Beneath the cloak his torso was bare, the light Dana’s from torch and his own burning companion revealing scars that crisscrossed his lean, muscular frame.
“All right, demon-worshipper, we’ve come...” Cal began.
The man atop the dais suddenly threw back his cowl. Lok, Dana, and Cal stood transfixed, stunned by the revelation of their former friend, restored to life by some power unknown to them.
Delem threw back his head and laughed, a dry, inhuman cackle that filled the chamber with dread.
“Delem!” Lok cried, at the same time that Dana screamed something incoherent in a wrenching sob. Cal simply stood there as if poleaxed, and Lariel, uncertain what this portended, hovered warily, his bow twitching slightly in his hand.
Benzan, however, staggered as if struck by a blow, as memory flooded back in. “He’s evil!” he cried. “He came to me last night, he wants the demon statue! He’s in league with them! He cast some sort of spell on me, to forget...”
“Well done, Benzan,” Delem laughed. “Warning your friends just after they’ve stepped into the trap.”
“Delem!” Dana sobbed, approaching hysteria. “Delem!” Lok held her tightly, his solid arm around her body the only thing that kept her from rushing forward.
“How can this be?” Cal asked, finally able to speak.
“You mean you haven’t guessed? You knew what had happened to me, where I’d been condemned to by the ghour, you abandoned me to my fate, and you think that I would simply wait, unharmed, unchanged, for you to get around to doing something about it? YOU THOUGHT IT WOULD ALL BE LIKE IT WAS BEFORE?”
“Behind us,” Lariel whispered, as dark forms emerged at the edges of their light, hovering there, waiting. The companions, however, were caught up in the scene unfolding before them.
“Delem, no—”
“It is too late.” The sorcerer’s head lowered, and his voice came out as a strangled hiss. “Kossuth has abandoned me. I serve a new Master now.”
His hand came up. The demons tensed. Benzan shouted a warning, even as the flames erupted in the sorcerer’s hand.
“Fireball!”
LuYangShih
First Post
What can I say, except... WOW! Impressive, most impressive. I've never enjoyed reading a story more. The way you write these characters and the scenes is nothing short of brilliant. I'm shocked you haven't been picked up by a publisher yet, with such talent. Really, great writeup, I eagerly await the next post.
Broccli_Head
Explorer
Lazybones said:
This is one of the best cliffhangers, yet!
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