Wulf's Collected Story Hour -- FINAL UPDATE 12/25
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Wulf Ratbane
Adventurer
LORD OF THE IRON FORTRESS-- Part VII (cont.)
Wulf rolled the gargantuan morningstar into his portable hole as the others looked on in disbelief. Wulf just shrugged. “Ach… maybe Verachus will buy it. I’m not in this for my health, yer know.”
After healing up they adventured on. Following their inward spiral of the tower, they opened onto a room with two of the blade-handed iron golems. The golems stood inert, but waiting. They decided to backtrack before triggering the golems.
Spiraling out to the outside of the tower, they found what appeared to be the cloud giant’s bedroom. Wulf snuck in, needlessly wary of traps, and looted the room for the few gems he could find.
And that was it. They’d seen everything there was to see, so it was back to the iron golems.
Wulf sighed. “I’m looking forward to tangling with these about as much as having my pants full of steel predators.” Without Dorn, and knowing the paladin’s backup weapon wouldn’t so much as scratch the finish on them, Wulf knew he’d be handling the brunt of the combat.
Shorty tugged Wulf back by his belt. “Pardon…” he said, as he cast a wall of force that trapped the two golems safely into the corner.
“Moving right along,” he said. “Quickly though.” He wagged his stumpy finger in warning. His spell wouldn’t last forever.
The golems guarded a short, narrow passage that led out of the room and ended in two doors. They could feel heat emanating from the doors. Wulf turned and hustled everyone back out of the room so he could work them over for traps.
Grand adventures call for grand heroes, Wulf thought. He looked around the corner at his comrades, who waited patiently for him to detect any traps the doors might hold. Wulf knew full well that his skills—though often tested—were useless. He gritted his teeth and just yanked the bloody doors open.
Wulf was never quite certain what the two symbols were that he triggered that day, but he could tell from the queasiness in his guts that only his epic fortitude and dwarven resilience to magic saved him from an unexpected date with Haela. Or Moradin. Or whoever the hell was runnin’ the show.
The doors opened onto two staircases: one up, one down. Wulf called the party over and gestured at the staircases. “Decisions, decisions,” he mused.
“I think we should retreat and regroup,” suggested the paladin.
A tiny, mocking voice piped up from behind. “Aww, does Karak miss his wittle sword?” Shorty was uncharacteristically bitter. Wulf was liking him more by the minute.
“Up we go,” Wulf said.
The stairs at the top ended in a door that resisted all their attempts to open it. Shorty tried to dispel it, to no avail.
“Are yer sure yer usin’ that spell right?” Wulf asked.
Shorty ignored him and tried again. And again. And again. Four times, no luck.
While Wulf was busy both admiring the halfling’s tenacity and bemoaning his general ineptitude, and Shorty was trying to curse his way through the door, Keldas glided past to think his way around the problem. He disintegrated the wall beside the door. He stepped aside to give everyone a clear view of the room inside.
The room was dark—not so much magically dark as rather supernaturally so—but they could make out rows and rows of dark, tattered hangings. It was like a side-show haunted house, divided up by curtains to screen the deeper portions of the room.
They were unanimous in their suspicions. Even the most optimistic adventurer couldn’t help a sense of paranoia at the creepy décor.
“Who’s going in?” asked Karak, trying unsuccessfully to keep the tone in his voice from betraying the answer he already knew.
“Well,” said Wulf, “I have an idea for starters. Diessa, cast a divine storm in there—about head height—and shred those hangings to pieces. Then we can talk about who’s goin’ in.”
Diessa complied and in moments, the curtains were shredded around the room. Though the room was darker than it should be, they could see into it. There was lots of dust, and… were there bits of bone here and there?
Wulf looked at Karak.
“Don’t worry,” he said. “One o’ them curtains drops down an’ surrounds yer, I promise to come in and hack on yer. Ach, it, rather.”
After much coaxing, Karak took the first tentative steps into the room. “What exactly do you want me to do here, Wulf?”
Wulf kept a safe, respectable distance from the room, and called in. “Yer know. The usual. Kick some o’ them bones around. Disturb things. If there’s an altar, lick it!”
The paladin shuffled around in the scraps. Ere long he discovered a small black pouch. He picked it up and came trotting out of the room. Wulf retreated from the paladin’s proffered pouch. Grabbing Keldas, he hustled him forward. “Looks like magic, elf. Check ‘er out.”
Keldas took the pouch. “Hmm… Conjuration magic.” He opened the pouch.
A huge, cat-like, ghostly figure suddenly appeared and attacked the wizard. Karak acted so quickly Wulf barely had time to be impressed. The ghost-touch bastard sword whistled out and sliced the hellish, hissing creature in half quicker than you could say, “Fras!”
The pouch contained a valuable black pearl, and as the room had no other methods of entry or exit, and the party was otherwise stymied, Wulf amused himself by arguing with the paladin over the pearl.
“Can I have that pearl for my dragon?” “No.” “Please?” “Hell no.”
“Quiet, you two,” Keldas said. “The tower is obviously larger than just this single room. I am thinking of a way past these walls.”
“Just disintegrate it again,” suggested Shorty.
“I have used my only disintegration for the day.”
“Tee hee!” snorted Shorty.
Keldas snapped his fingers. “Polymorph Any Object,” he said. And like that, he turned a large section of the iron wall into mud.
Wulf stared at the oozing slop. “Mud? MUD? Yer can turn it into anything yer want, anything in the world, and that’s the best yer come up with? How about diamond dust? Or a nekkid woman?”
Diessa rolled her eyes and folded her arms across her chest. “Please, can we move along?”
“Nice rack!” Wulf exclaimed, pushing past the priestess.
The gap opened onto a vast chamber—definitely giant-sized, Wulf thought—with a large table, chairs, and a long curtain that served as the western wall. But it was the weapons rack on the southern wall, full of masterwork blades, that lured Wulf into the room. Most of the weapons were giant-sized, but Wulf studied them briefly with a craftsman’s curiosity. They bore Imperagon’s maker’s mark.
“Wulf, come check out this desk,” said Shorty. Wulf stumped his way over to the east side of the room and gave the desk a cursory once-over before coming across a metal box. Like the door they had experienced earlier, the box somehow “resisted” being opened.
Wulf now moved to the door next to the weapons rack. Though the party was still mulling about in the room behind him, the lack of enemies on the upper floor had lulled Wulf into a false sense of security. He tugged open the door.
The door opened immediately onto the corner of an L-shaped balcony that overlooked a deeper chamber below—an area of the lower level they had not previously uncovered. Wulf spotted two giants standing on the lower level—even with his limited powers of observation he could hardly miss them, especially as they were staring right at him and reaching for hefty boulders.
“Sorry, wrong room,” Wulf said, speaking Giantish. He hadn’t found much use for it since Halma died, but he was glad to have it handy. He casually slammed the door.
“SHORTY!” he hissed. “Get up here and chain lightning them-- again and again!”
“No way,” Shorty said. “Maybe you guys get in front, gimme some cover first, I’ll do it.”
“For goodness sake!” Keldas moaned. “All these demands, you’d think he was a teamster or something.”
It took them far too long to get themselves organized and open the door again. The scene was a little different when they yanked the door open again.
Two steel predators. Two fire giants. The duergar monk. An old woman-- with Keldas’ staff. A gelugon, no doubt summoned from that staff. The evil “trumpet archon,” aka, small boy #2.
Helkitren.
And Imperagon.
Wulf drew his weapons. “Let’s roll.”
Wulf rolled the gargantuan morningstar into his portable hole as the others looked on in disbelief. Wulf just shrugged. “Ach… maybe Verachus will buy it. I’m not in this for my health, yer know.”
After healing up they adventured on. Following their inward spiral of the tower, they opened onto a room with two of the blade-handed iron golems. The golems stood inert, but waiting. They decided to backtrack before triggering the golems.
Spiraling out to the outside of the tower, they found what appeared to be the cloud giant’s bedroom. Wulf snuck in, needlessly wary of traps, and looted the room for the few gems he could find.
And that was it. They’d seen everything there was to see, so it was back to the iron golems.
Wulf sighed. “I’m looking forward to tangling with these about as much as having my pants full of steel predators.” Without Dorn, and knowing the paladin’s backup weapon wouldn’t so much as scratch the finish on them, Wulf knew he’d be handling the brunt of the combat.
Shorty tugged Wulf back by his belt. “Pardon…” he said, as he cast a wall of force that trapped the two golems safely into the corner.
“Moving right along,” he said. “Quickly though.” He wagged his stumpy finger in warning. His spell wouldn’t last forever.
The golems guarded a short, narrow passage that led out of the room and ended in two doors. They could feel heat emanating from the doors. Wulf turned and hustled everyone back out of the room so he could work them over for traps.
Grand adventures call for grand heroes, Wulf thought. He looked around the corner at his comrades, who waited patiently for him to detect any traps the doors might hold. Wulf knew full well that his skills—though often tested—were useless. He gritted his teeth and just yanked the bloody doors open.
Wulf was never quite certain what the two symbols were that he triggered that day, but he could tell from the queasiness in his guts that only his epic fortitude and dwarven resilience to magic saved him from an unexpected date with Haela. Or Moradin. Or whoever the hell was runnin’ the show.
The doors opened onto two staircases: one up, one down. Wulf called the party over and gestured at the staircases. “Decisions, decisions,” he mused.
“I think we should retreat and regroup,” suggested the paladin.
A tiny, mocking voice piped up from behind. “Aww, does Karak miss his wittle sword?” Shorty was uncharacteristically bitter. Wulf was liking him more by the minute.
“Up we go,” Wulf said.
The stairs at the top ended in a door that resisted all their attempts to open it. Shorty tried to dispel it, to no avail.
“Are yer sure yer usin’ that spell right?” Wulf asked.
Shorty ignored him and tried again. And again. And again. Four times, no luck.
While Wulf was busy both admiring the halfling’s tenacity and bemoaning his general ineptitude, and Shorty was trying to curse his way through the door, Keldas glided past to think his way around the problem. He disintegrated the wall beside the door. He stepped aside to give everyone a clear view of the room inside.
The room was dark—not so much magically dark as rather supernaturally so—but they could make out rows and rows of dark, tattered hangings. It was like a side-show haunted house, divided up by curtains to screen the deeper portions of the room.
They were unanimous in their suspicions. Even the most optimistic adventurer couldn’t help a sense of paranoia at the creepy décor.
“Who’s going in?” asked Karak, trying unsuccessfully to keep the tone in his voice from betraying the answer he already knew.
“Well,” said Wulf, “I have an idea for starters. Diessa, cast a divine storm in there—about head height—and shred those hangings to pieces. Then we can talk about who’s goin’ in.”
Diessa complied and in moments, the curtains were shredded around the room. Though the room was darker than it should be, they could see into it. There was lots of dust, and… were there bits of bone here and there?
Wulf looked at Karak.
“Don’t worry,” he said. “One o’ them curtains drops down an’ surrounds yer, I promise to come in and hack on yer. Ach, it, rather.”
After much coaxing, Karak took the first tentative steps into the room. “What exactly do you want me to do here, Wulf?”
Wulf kept a safe, respectable distance from the room, and called in. “Yer know. The usual. Kick some o’ them bones around. Disturb things. If there’s an altar, lick it!”
The paladin shuffled around in the scraps. Ere long he discovered a small black pouch. He picked it up and came trotting out of the room. Wulf retreated from the paladin’s proffered pouch. Grabbing Keldas, he hustled him forward. “Looks like magic, elf. Check ‘er out.”
Keldas took the pouch. “Hmm… Conjuration magic.” He opened the pouch.
A huge, cat-like, ghostly figure suddenly appeared and attacked the wizard. Karak acted so quickly Wulf barely had time to be impressed. The ghost-touch bastard sword whistled out and sliced the hellish, hissing creature in half quicker than you could say, “Fras!”
The pouch contained a valuable black pearl, and as the room had no other methods of entry or exit, and the party was otherwise stymied, Wulf amused himself by arguing with the paladin over the pearl.
“Can I have that pearl for my dragon?” “No.” “Please?” “Hell no.”
“Quiet, you two,” Keldas said. “The tower is obviously larger than just this single room. I am thinking of a way past these walls.”
“Just disintegrate it again,” suggested Shorty.
“I have used my only disintegration for the day.”
“Tee hee!” snorted Shorty.
Keldas snapped his fingers. “Polymorph Any Object,” he said. And like that, he turned a large section of the iron wall into mud.
Wulf stared at the oozing slop. “Mud? MUD? Yer can turn it into anything yer want, anything in the world, and that’s the best yer come up with? How about diamond dust? Or a nekkid woman?”
Diessa rolled her eyes and folded her arms across her chest. “Please, can we move along?”
“Nice rack!” Wulf exclaimed, pushing past the priestess.
The gap opened onto a vast chamber—definitely giant-sized, Wulf thought—with a large table, chairs, and a long curtain that served as the western wall. But it was the weapons rack on the southern wall, full of masterwork blades, that lured Wulf into the room. Most of the weapons were giant-sized, but Wulf studied them briefly with a craftsman’s curiosity. They bore Imperagon’s maker’s mark.
“Wulf, come check out this desk,” said Shorty. Wulf stumped his way over to the east side of the room and gave the desk a cursory once-over before coming across a metal box. Like the door they had experienced earlier, the box somehow “resisted” being opened.
Wulf now moved to the door next to the weapons rack. Though the party was still mulling about in the room behind him, the lack of enemies on the upper floor had lulled Wulf into a false sense of security. He tugged open the door.
The door opened immediately onto the corner of an L-shaped balcony that overlooked a deeper chamber below—an area of the lower level they had not previously uncovered. Wulf spotted two giants standing on the lower level—even with his limited powers of observation he could hardly miss them, especially as they were staring right at him and reaching for hefty boulders.
“Sorry, wrong room,” Wulf said, speaking Giantish. He hadn’t found much use for it since Halma died, but he was glad to have it handy. He casually slammed the door.
“SHORTY!” he hissed. “Get up here and chain lightning them-- again and again!”
“No way,” Shorty said. “Maybe you guys get in front, gimme some cover first, I’ll do it.”
“For goodness sake!” Keldas moaned. “All these demands, you’d think he was a teamster or something.”
It took them far too long to get themselves organized and open the door again. The scene was a little different when they yanked the door open again.
Two steel predators. Two fire giants. The duergar monk. An old woman-- with Keldas’ staff. A gelugon, no doubt summoned from that staff. The evil “trumpet archon,” aka, small boy #2.
Helkitren.
And Imperagon.
Wulf drew his weapons. “Let’s roll.”
Last edited:
Wulf Ratbane
Adventurer
seasong said:
Hey, when yer right, yer right.
I was sorely disappointed not to get the nekkid woman, but I suppose it's for the best. We never could have made it work:
I mean really, sometimes talking to her was like talking to a wall!
Elocin
Lurker (sort of)
First time poster in this story hour but I have been reading from the get go and I must admit that this story is one of the best. I would rate it just below Piratecat's. I do so LOVE Wulf and I can not wait to play a dwarf myself.
I am thinking there is about to be a whole world of hurt raining down shortly and I hope it comes form the party.
I am thinking there is about to be a whole world of hurt raining down shortly and I hope it comes form the party.
Wulf Ratbane
Adventurer
Elocin said:
Well, you're close... There's about to be world of hurt raining down on SHORTY, does that count?
Spatzimaus
First Post
Re: LORD OF THE IRON FORTRESS-- Part VII (cont.)
Not only does he have a strange sense of humor, he references some of the classics...
Wulf Ratbane said:
Not only does he have a strange sense of humor, he references some of the classics...
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