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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Lazybones" data-source="post: 296360" data-attributes="member: 143">Oops.Anyway, thanks for posting, and welcome aboard, CoopersPale!  I'm always happy to greet a new reader.  Have you been reading all along, or have you just been with us for Book V? LP: Glad you came by.  Thanks for the heads-up on my sig. links; I'll get those fixed straightaway.  Actually, all the threads are still here, and the books are downloadable in doc format at my website (that link still works <img src="https://cdn.jsdelivr.net/joypixels/assets/8.0/png/unicode/64/1f609.png" class="smilie smilie--emoji" loading="lazy" width="64" height="64" alt=";)" title="Wink    ;)"  data-smilie="2"data-shortname=";)" />).  Also, as Maldur noted, the complete saga through book IV are available as a single huge PDF download (nearly a meg, now) from the Hosted Story Hours page that Morrus runs.  P.S. I'm playtesting the sequel to "The Crossroads" on Sunday mornings now (I think Ludo is the only participant from your group), and hopefully will have be able to add another session soon for you guys from the Wednesday night crew.  Hopefully Willo will be able to join us for more NWN goodness.  In the meantime, I'm running Crossroads HCR and it's working out really well to this point (a few glitches here and there, but that's to be expected).  Maldur, Horacio, Krellic: thanks for your posts, and here's your update!* * * * * Book V, Part 28The cone of flesh-eating gas blasted into Lok and Rakkath.  The quaggoth screamed as its fur began to dissolve, and for a terrible moment it just stood there, quivering, before it collapsed in a noisome pile of bone, muscle, and blood.  Lok did not make a sound as the deadly gas soaked into the cracks and crevices of his armor, into the openings in his helm, melting away his skin at its touch.  Blood dripped down into his eyes, nearly blinding him, and every inch of his body felt as though it was on fire.  But when the spray of gas cleared, Lok still stood there, holding his axe, his chest heaving even as his blood dripped out of the gaps in his armor to form in puddles on the stone floor.  Slowly the axe came up again.Meanwhile, Benzan was doing his best to land a telling blow while the dragon’s attention was directed away from him.  He thrust again with his magical blade, and cursed as the thick dragon hide turned what might have been a deep thrust into yet another shallow gash.  The dragon did not react to the attack, keeping its attention focused on Lok.  Cal had not spent those few moments idly.  Even as Dana crumpled he rushed to her side, calling upon the power of his bardic magic to summon a healing song.  The magic stabilized her, although she remained unconscious, still terribly wounded from the dragon’s attacks.  He looked up to see the dragon’s second breath attack, and Rakkath’s death.  He felt his heart freeze in his chest as he saw Lok emerge from the cloud, barely standing, and the dragon still looming above him, ready to finish him.  The gnome did not hesitate, even though the idea that popped into his head seemed like madness.  He took up his crossbow and loaded a bolt as he circled to the left, trying to get clear of Dana so that his desperate plan would not jeopardize her.  His haste still in effect, it only took him a few seconds to move into position.  Then, as he raised his crossbow, he shouted in his typically loud, clear voice, “Let’s see how you like these dragonbane bolts, you ugly lizard!”His shot missed, barely coming close to the darting and twisting head of the dragon, but he definitely got its attention. Draxaranthilus was not the sort of creature that panicked in a battle, even one as violent as the current fray.  Dragonbane weapons were, however, not uncommon in the Underdark, and as fate would have it the dragon had personal experience with them, having had the misfortune of running into a derro warrior who’d carried a few bolts thus enchanted while he was still just a few years old.  Drax had survived that encounter, if barely, but carried the memory of that particular agony with him for all the years since then.  The dragon shifted, and drew back in upon itself into a sudden crouch, its wings folding back around its body like twin shields.  Then, like an explosion, it launched itself forward, slamming Benzan and Lok roughly back with its wings as it came, bearing down on the hapless gnome in just a few short dragon-strides.  The little gnome just stood there, waiting, his crossbow coming up again as the dragon charged.  He opened his mouth, as if to utter one last comment……and began to sing.The dragon’s jaws snapped down on the gnome, but closed only on empty air as Cal’s combined defenses—bracers, his shield, and the magical haste—allowed him to narrowly escape the attack.  Even all those protections, however, could not fully absorb the dragon’s onslaught, and as he dodged back he took a vicious rake from one of the dragon’s claws.  He staggered back, and fired his crossbow point-blank into the dragon’s chest.  The bolt sank into the dragon’s hide with a thick ‘plop’, adding another minor injury to the dragon’s tally.  The dragon instantly realized that it had been tricked, and its anger was apparent as it redoubled its efforts to tear through Cal’s defenses.  Cal dropped the crossbow and drew his pitifully small sword, glowing with the light of the enchantment placed on it by the dwarves of Citadel Adbar.  The dragon, however, struck first, its head darting out in a sudden strike that tore through the shield.  The gnome tried to jump back, but the dragon’s jaws snapped onto his leg, crushing the limb and tearing his flesh.  Cal screamed as the dragon whipped its head back, flinging the gnome roughly across the room until he slammed hard into the wall of the chamber.  The impact knocked the air from his lungs, and he fell hard to the ground ten feet below, landing in a torn and battered heap.  Cal’s self-sacrifice, however, had bought his companions precious seconds, which they had not spent idly.  Lok tore his helmet from his head, pausing only to wipe the blood from his eyes before rushing back to the attack.  He came at the dragon’s hind-quarters, only to suffer a solid blow from the dragon’s tail as it snapped around in a defensive arc.  Ignoring the blow—although it was clear that even the mighty genasi could not take many more hits—Lok sliced at the dragon’s body, only to miss as the dragon’s movements threw off the timing of his attack.  On the opposite flank, Benzan rushed in as well, now driven beyond conscious thought by the sheer intensity of the melee.  Despite the lingering effects of the duergar poison he felt beyond such mundane effects as weakness or exhaustion, and his sword seemed to pulse in his hand as he ran forward and thrust at the dragon with all of his might.  This time, his stroke was true, and the blade penetrated deeply into the dragon’s body, releasing a torrent of hot blood that flowed down over his hands as he was dragged forward.Draxaranthilus roared in pain, twisting around so quickly that Benzan was only barely able to draw his sword out of the wound he had just inflicted.  The dragon unleashed a whirlwind of attacks on the tiefling, tearing into his armored torso with its powerful claws, snapping at his face with its deadly teeth.  Benzan tried to dodge back, but as he staggered away the dragon caught him full in the face with a snap of his wing, and the tiefling crumpled, blood erupting in a fountain from his shattered nose.  “Only one remaining,” the dragon hissed, turning to face the last foe left standing.  For all its intellect and wisdom the beast felt nearly giddy, caught up like its enemies in the pure bloodlust of battle.  Or maybe it was the effects of its many injuries finally catching up with it… in either case, the dragon savored the anticipation of victory as it swiveled toward the battered genasi warrior.  It moved somewhat more ponderously now, its body heaving as blood continued to pulse out of its wounds.  As it turned, Lok brought his axe down in a powerful stroke that caught the dragon solidly on the side of the neck.  Draxaranthilus staggered as the critical hit from the axe slashed through flesh and muscle and scored the bones underneath.  The dragon’s head flailed weakly at the end of its wounded neck, and its hiss was like that of air escaping from a punctured wineskin.  It tried to draw back, to recenter itself, and it actually managed to balance on its four legs while it tried to control the movements of its head.  It succeeded just in time to take the blow to the other side of its neck.  The dragon’s body collapsed as its head flew off a few feet away, landing in a slick of blood on the cold stone.  Its eyes glowed for an instant longer, finally fading away into the numb darkness of death.  * * * * * Coming Friday: the cliffhanger to end all cliffhangers, stay tuned...</blockquote>

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