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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Vendetta" data-source="post: 1200751" data-attributes="member: 14961">Vorath glided across the stone and mud with the grace of which his race was gifted.  Most people thought dwarves were clumsy, and yes, those distant cousins to the Duergar, curse them, often were.  But not the Duergar and most certainly not Vorath.  Vorath was the scout for a Duergar posse hunting a Troglodyte raiding party that had recently preyed upon a Duergar village.  Curse the Trogs… and if he could only call out one curse, may it go to the Troglodytes and their wretched stench.  Vorath reached the end of the cavern wall where it angled back away from his band.  But they could hear the Trogs as they celebrated a short distance ahead.  Their hissing and guttural snarls and whatever else passed for speech echoed down the corridor as Vorath peeked around the corner.  No, they were not there, yet.  Vorath turned and waved his band forward and turned back to peer down the tunnel.  His sharp Duergar eyes scanned the unworked stone walls that lined the natural cavern.  Something wasn’t right.  Gorn, the party leader, was at Vorath’s back, peering over his shoulders trying to see what it was the scout was looking at.  “What do you see?”  Gorn asked.“Nothing… that’s the problem.”  Vorath returned.  “I don’t like it.  Something is wrong.”“You think it’s a trap?”  Gorn asked.“I always think it’s a trap.”  Vorath answered.Suddenly the cavern filled with a brilliant light, blinding the Duergar band and searing their flesh from the intensity of it.  Some of their number fell to the ground, clutching at their eyes in pain.  Curse the light as well.  Vorath swiftly nocht an arrow and fired into the light.  A blind shot, he knew, but he wasn’t about to let whatever it was that was making the light have free reign over him.  Then he heard a commanding voice, a mystical voice and he knew that it was a wizard of some kind.  Curse wizards too!Vorath didn’t know what spell was cast but the last thing he remembered were those haunting words and the tingling sensation that flowed through his limbs before blackness consumed him.* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * A being stood over the arcane tome, once more going over the incantations in their mind.  Everything was ready.  Cold eyes looked at the quivering Dretch, a pathetic excuse for a servant, but for the moment it was capable of filling the current needs.“You have failed in these attempts before, Master.  Why do you think it will work this time.”  The Dretch asked, its voice raspy and hoarse sounding.“This is only a test.  Duergar, like all dwarves, are a much more hearty race.  Perhaps that will allow this infusion to be successful where the others have failed.” A voice filled with great power replied, “If the Duergar dies, what loss is that?  But I may well learn something from this experiment to determine if this will prove to be a successful venture.”The mysterious figure turned toward the unconscious forms of the 8 Duergar that had captured just two days ago.  Was the Dretch right?  Was this a waste of time?  Perhaps.  There seemed to be something missing that hindered the spell.  But what if it worked? What if…* * * * * * * * * * * * * *Vorath awoke, as he so often did this past month and again was overwhelmed with pain.  What was happening to him?  He held wrapped his arms around himself and felt what he thought should have been his flesh.  But instead of smooth skin, there was only a stony surface like the carapace of a giant beetle or something.  Vorath rubbed his hands over his body to find the same strange substance covered everywhere.  Vorath’s sides burned in pain.  His hand traced his ribs to where it hurt the most to find two strange nubs coming from the side.  What were they?  Part of whatever it was that was covering him, no doubt… but if so… why did they hurt so?Vorath was suddenly startled by a strange echo in his head.  No, not in his head, somewhere else… but in his head at the same time.  The echoes rumbled through Vorath’s mind with a rhythm like a drum, each pulse heavier as it rippled somewhere… getting closer, every closer.BAM BAM BAMThe unmistakable rattle of someone pounding on a steel door shocked Vorath.  He felt cold… he never felt cold.  “You done changin’ yet?”  A strange, guttural voice laughed.  The voice was close, close enough to be addressing him.  Changing?  Vorath, shivering, scuttled away from the voice until his back came to a solid, stone wall.  The voice laughed.“So, yer awake?  The Master/Mistress will be pleased.”  The voice walked away, laughing.  And with each footstep, Vorath could feel the ripples through he ground.  A sinking, sickly feeling swept over the Duergar.“What am I changing into?”  He thought to himself.* * * * * * * * * * * *Something was happening.  There was chaos everywhere.  There was an attack, it had to be.  Vorath could sense hundreds of feet pounding on the ground as they ran this way and that.  The guards were on alert and rushing in all directions.  Thunder sounded.  Vorath saw this was his chance.  In the last month, his flesh had been turned to some kind of stone-like substance and he had grown 4 more arms.  The thought would have horrified him if not for the various advantages that he had discovered…He had palmed a sharp, long splinter of wood and once there were no guards watching, he quickly began picking at the lock to his cell.  Yes!  The door was open.  Vorath ran, first up the wall and to the roof where he would be less likely to be noticed.  Then with all of his new limbs, he rushed down the halls.He could see dead bodies everywhere.  When it was clear, he spent a moment riffling through the various gear… he needed a weapon.  A longsword.  Not his weapon of choice, but it would do if someone were to see him.  Traveling through the corridors, Vorath called upon his mental map that he had made of the place when being moved about.  Though, he had been groggy in most cases, a few landmarks were remembered to him.  One chamber, in particular stood out and he rushed to it.  Inside he saw several tables, chairs and bookshelves.  Quickly he rummaged through some of the items when he saw his bow… HIS bow… a family bow passed down and quite powerful.  Thank the gods!  Soon after, he found his pack with several things still there.  More fortune was with him.  There were other packs there as well, but he did not have enough time to go through them.  All he could do was shove a few portions of trail rations into his Haversack and dive out of a vent before someone entered the room. Vorath found himself in a hall and saw an odd group ascending some stairs.  They were not what he had come to expect to see while in this prison… where they part of the attack force that had caused the panic that had aided him in this escape?  Possibly… Vorath decided to follow them at a safe distance.</blockquote>

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