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<blockquote data-quote="Wulf Ratbane" data-source="post: 2655" data-attributes="member: 94"><p><strong>DEEP HORIZON Part II</strong></p><p></p><p>Using the various wands of healing the party had stashed here and there, they were rapidly restored to health. Thanks to Dorn's <em>Heal</em> spell Wulf was the first back on his feet to take stock of the situation. Keldas has discovered a secret door on the western ledge that led into a large cave where the bat-people had evidently made camp. Wulf directed the others to gather the bodies and the captive and retreat to the cave, while he did his best hide the evidence of their struggle.</p><p></p><p>Keldas had begun to interrogate the prisoner. After a tense moment where it made the mistake of addressing Keldas in undercommon, it switched to common, which it spoke surprisingly well. At least on the surface, the creature seemed happy and grateful to be rescued, though it endured a simultaneous interrogation from Wulf and Keldas-- with Keldas' inquisitive, scholarly questions being impatiently peppered with Wulf's short, staccato questions of a more pragmatic bent.</p><p></p><p>"What's yer name?"</p><p></p><p>"Viday."</p><p></p><p>"By what name is your race known?"</p><p></p><p>"We are the desmodu."</p><p></p><p>"Why yer fightin' yer buddies?"</p><p></p><p>"They caught me unawares. We are of differing factions, with opposed beliefs."</p><p></p><p>"So they do have a civilization...? What is the nature of these factions?"</p><p></p><p>"Desmodu are of three castes. Warriors, merchants, explorers. I am an explorer." Viday cupped the symbol that hung on a chain around his neck: three concave discs, arranged together like a clover. Keldas surmised that, to a bat, the symbol's odd shape would reflect sound, giving it a distinct "sonic silhouette."</p><p></p><p>Wulf retrieved the symbols from the fallen desmodu and passed one out to everyone. "Aye... And these are warriors?" The symbol was like a figure eight lying in the bottom of a bowl.</p><p></p><p>"Correct."</p><p></p><p>"And why the disagreement?" Keldas pressed for more information.</p><p></p><p>"The desmodu are very powerful and the warriors most powerful of all. They believe that we can go to the surface and simply take what we need by force. The merchants would rather trade."</p><p></p><p>"And what of the explorers?"</p><p></p><p>"We are peaceful, but we believe that more information is required. It has been many years since we have travelled to the surface."</p><p></p><p>"Why now?"</p><p></p><p>"We have made contact with representatives of your people from the surface, led by a human named Rourmed and an elf called Engram. They wish to open up trade with our city."</p><p></p><p>"Yer got a whole city down here?"</p><p></p><p>"Just beyond the ruined drow city. I would be happy to take you there, but... the way is dangerous."</p><p></p><p>"Aye? How's that?"</p><p></p><p>"There are beholders in the ruins, as well as many desmodu warriors who work with them. They prowl the ruins seeking the buried treasures of the drow."</p><p></p><p>"How long before more warriors come this way?"</p><p></p><p>"I do not know; I doubt they will."</p><p></p><p>"An' that screech thing yer buddies did to the assmar... Yer can do that at will?"</p><p></p><p>"No. Perhaps once a day."</p><p></p><p>"Can yer fly?"</p><p></p><p>"No. We train giant bats to carry us. We have grown too large for wings."</p><p></p><p>"Ach, well, yer still hit like a bunch of nancies. Where's all yer bats, then?"</p><p></p><p>"I don't know. I believe this group was part of a patrol brought here by others, and left as a guard post."</p><p></p><p>"Well, I'm up for a visit to a new civilization and a ruined drow city," said Keldas. "Anybody have a problem with beholders?"</p><p></p><p>Shorty was the first to raise his hand-- but not the last.</p><p></p><p>"Great. Let's camp here and rest, recover our spells, and head for Chael Rendaar tomorrow."</p><p></p><p>--------------------</p><p></p><p>They were greeted the next morning by a small patrol of surly dwarves. They were led-- against their better judgement, it seemed-- by a huge, brown-skinned human. His fire-scarred features, obviously the result of more than mere forge-fire, were hidden behind a thick black beard to rival that of any dwarf. He was Bala Saka, a foundling raised by dwarves. His kinship to Wulf, in spirit at least, was evident: bandoliers of daggers crisscrossed his chest, javelins sprouted awkwardly from a quiver on his back, and a glaive was draped in a sling over his shoulder. He bristled with weapons but seemed most confident with the iron-shod quarterstaff that supported his stooping frame. From beneath his bronze, wide-brimmed conquistador's helmet, he grunted a greeting to Wulf.</p><p></p><p>"Where we off to?"</p><p></p><p>"Drow city full of beholders."</p><p></p><p>"All right then." Bala Saka jerked his thumb to the dwarf patrol. "You can go."</p><p></p><p>Loyal stepped forward, his bow unstrung, his eyes downcast. "I'm going back, too. I've had enough."</p><p></p><p>Shorty said nothing, obviously intending to stay, so Wulf spoke up to break the awkward silence. "Suit yerself." He nodded to the dwarves. "Yer lot can take care of the elf, right?"</p><p></p><p>And with that, they parted ways.</p><p></p><p>"Yer got some stones on yer, peck."</p><p></p><p>--------------------</p><p></p><p>The party moved on to Chael Rendaar. Somewhat emboldened by Bala Saka's presence, Wulf once again agreed to move out in advance of the group. As the passages turned to open caverns, Wulf knew that they were approaching the city. He waited patiently for the group to join him.</p><p></p><p>"Gonna head round to the left, through that suspicious lookin' slew o' rubble there. Keep yer eyes open."</p><p></p><p>Keldas went one step further. He cast <em>Fly</em> on himself and flew up into the cavern, hovering above the group but positioned so that he could see around a huge mound of volcanic rock that loomed in front of them. The rest of the group hid behind a low wall of rock and waited nervously.</p><p></p><p>Now fully on his guard, Wulf crept forward, but even with his <em>darkvision</em> he didn't see the desmodu coming. Four of them swept out of the darkness on their mounts. Wulf's instincts kicked in and he defended himself as best he could against their lances and the snapping teeth of their giant bats. Three of them stopped to surround him and the fourth circled wide around the volcanic outcropping.</p><p></p><p>Wulf raised the alarm and the rest of the group scrambled clumsily over the wall to run to his aid. The paladin was the first to join him, and none too soon. Wulf had stood toe-to-toe for several desperate moments and the desmodu were already driving him back towards Dorn. Bala Saka stepped up behind the paladin with his glaive, forcing the desmodu back. Shorty was <em>hasted</em> and levitated behind the wall, firing off <em>snowball swarms</em> as fast as he could call them up. The spell was sized perfectly to catch the enormous desmodu in its blast without endangering any of his friends. </p><p></p><p>Dorn was still slipping and scrabbling through the rubble when Wulf caught up to him. Dorn sighed and cast <em>Heal</em> once again. The two dwarves supported each other as they turned and dashed through the rubble and back into the fray, screaming their battle cries. <em>Taranak</em> was ablaze and <em>Syrius</em>, Dorn's holy great-axe, was thirsty for righteous slaughter.</p><p></p><p>Keldas had wasted no time pursuing the fourth desmodu. In short order he'd slain its mount, and the desmodu spilled to the ground. Keldas watched as the bat-creature stooped low to the ground and began running on all fours, back into the ruins, where it no doubt hoped to warn its fellows. With passionless calculation, Keldas summoned a dire bear directly into its path and, his job done, turned to assist the rest of the group.</p><p></p><p>His help arrived unneeded as Bala Saka, Dorn, Wulf, the paladin, Shorty, and even Viday were more than three desmodu and three giant bats could handle.</p><p></p><p>Unfortunately, the dire bear had failed in its attempt to bring down the straggler. Heedless of danger, the desmodu turned its back and risked a flat-out run. The bear attempted to crush him and hold him beneath its massive paw, but the desmodu escaped-- severely ravaged, but free nonetheless. The bear was too slow to catch him, though it pursued him nonetheless. </p><p></p><p>Whatever reinforcements the desmodu had roused, the dire bear <em>did not return.</em></p><p></p><p>A light had appeared in the distance of the ruins, and grew steadily as it approached. Dorn, Alliane, and the paladin worked feverishly to repair the party with their wands before more enemies arrived, while the fighters spread out into fighting formation. Wulf stuck close to Bala Saka, Alliane and Dorn not far behind them. Keldas and Karak moved out on their left flank.</p><p></p><p>No one noticed that Shorty was alone on their right flank, hiding in a pile of rubble. </p><p></p><p>The first thing to hit them was the anti-magic, and the knowledge of what they would soon face, coming as it did with the sinking feeling as their magic left them, was no consolation. A pair of trolls swaggered around a volcanic chunk and came loping at the party-- too stupid to realize why the group of adventurers seemed to look right through them, utterly unconcerned with their presence. The group was far more interested in winkling out the beholder.</p><p></p><p>With no spells, no wings, no <em>boots of striding and springing</em>, it was a mad dash. Keldas and the paladin sprinted off to the left, hoping to escape the cone-shaped effect of the beholder's anti-magic. Dorn did much the same-- or attempted to. In less dire circumstances the sight of the stubby dwarf, veritably entombed in his full plate armor, attempting a flat out run across shifting rubble, would almost have been humorous. Wulf and Bala Saka drew their weapons and charged the trolls-- though fully intending to charge past them, consequences be damned, if the opportunity to close with the beholder presented itself. Alliane kept pace with them just to their right, and when the trolls veered off to close with the elf maiden, Wulf had no choice but to draw up short and go to her aid. </p><p></p><p>Bala Saka sprinted on through the anti-magic cone, like a salmon instinctively running up river to its source.</p><p></p><p>Then the desmodu struck, swooping out of the sky on their giant bats. Two of them descended on Shorty, who could not hide from their <em>blindsight</em>. The first desmodu struck him as it flew past, and the second buried its lance deep in his chest. The halfling squirmed piteously on the end of the lance, realizing too late that his <em>Amulet of Health</em> had failed him under the anti-magic gaze. Wounds that would ordinarily have been mere scratches opened up into deep gashes; and the most severe of wounds-- the tip of the lance-- turned to a mortal blow. In that brief instant of dread realization, Shorty was deader than dead.</p><p></p><p>As if on cue, the beholder's bloated form finally loomed into view, wobbling in midair in a most ungainly fashion. Its huge central eye was still fixed down the center of the cavern, but it had erred: It was too close. The arc of its anti-magic cone had narrowed near its source so that the party could-- with a bit of desperate effort-- spread out wide enough to avoid it.</p><p></p><p>Keldas and Karak ran as fast as they could to the left. As soon as he cleared the anti-magic ray, Karak spoke the celestial command word and unfurled his <em>wings of flying</em>. Half-running, half-hopping, like a wounded albatross, he sailed across the cavern and threw himself flat, face-first behind a pile of rubble.</p><p></p><p>Keldas, on the other hand, was fearless. His <em>fly</em> spell was still active, and he sailed along above the paladin until he was hovering just a few feet over the rubble. It was no use, he reasoned, to dive for cover. If the beholder couldn't see him, then he couldn't see the beholder-- and he'd need line of sight for what he had in mind.</p><p></p><p>It seemed Keldas had a whole new bag of tricks.</p><p></p><p>Eldritch power coruscated up and down the length of Keldas' arm, building like the headwaters of a flood as it flowed to his outstretched hand. A bright green ray burst from his fingertip and lanced towards the beholder, striking it solidly in the side. Keldas smiled. "One <em>disintegrate</em> ray, one less beholder..."</p><p></p><p>At least, that was how it worked in theory. In reality, the gaseous bulk of the beholder shuddered and shimmied for a brief moment before returning to normal. Three of its smaller eyes telescoped around to face Keldas and the beholder responded in triplicate: <em>disintegrate, flesh to stone</em>, and <em>finger of death</em>.</p><p></p><p>Not something a frail elven wizard wanted to deal with, even on his best day. Fortunately, Dorn had protected the group with <em>Haela's Touch</em>, and Keldas the elf freely called on the goddess of dwarven luck to save his hide. He'd wisely prepared himself in advance with the best cloaks, rings, and amulets he could craft. It was enough-- barely. </p><p></p><p>But now his luck was spent. She could poke and prod at the fabric of reality, twisting things a bit in their favor once or twice, but there was only so much that the goddess Haela Brightaxe was willing to do-- for an elf or otherwise.</p><p></p><p>Dorn was still trying to clamber over the ruined terrain to extract himself from the anti-magic ray. Just as he was about to finally clear the area of effect, the desmodu struck again. Shorty's assailants had returned aloft to join two more warriors, and the newly formed phalanx of aerial cavalry swept down en masse to surround the unlucky priest.</p><p></p><p>"Well, luck ain't everything..." Dorn unshouldered his huge greataxe and defended himself as best he could. The desmodu struck first with their lances, sending blood fountaining from the gaps in Dorn's armor to splatter into the eager, gaping maws of their mounts, driving them into greater depths of blood-frenzy. Dorn staggered back and realized that the desmodu had arrayed themselves in a wide arc around him to cut him off from the rest of his allies.</p><p></p><p>Dorn was no coward, but he knew that without magic, and alone, he was no match for the desmodu. He sidestepped out of the anti-magic cone and howled with glee as he felt <em>Syrius</em> ripen to full enchantment-- along with his armor, helm, and other protections-- and most importantly, he noted the return of his <em>persistent divine might</em>. Dorn felt the joy that only a priest can know: the eye of his goddess was upon him.</p><p></p><p>And then it struck him: Soon enough it would be the <em>beholder's</em> eye upon him once again, and he'd be right back in the crapper. "Ferka-buncha-THIS!" </p><p></p><p>With one eye on the desmodu and one eye on the beholder, with <em>Syrius</em> in one hand keeping his enemies at arm's length, Dorn concentrated on his free hand-- and on correctly forming the gestures that would complete the spell that he hoped would turn the battle.</p><p></p><p>"Haela SMITE thee!" Dorn whirled <em>Syrius</em> around to point at the beholder, his great-axe acting as the divine focus to enact the spell. The air crackled and the heavens split, and a column of fire roared down, engulfing the beholder in a booming conflagration of holy whup-ass.</p><p></p><p>It did not die-- though its pain and anger was clearly written across its... face-like front arc. Its great central eye swept over Dorn, seeking the cause of its misery. Once again, all his strength and protection flew from him like shadows before the dawn, and Dorn turned to greet the pitiless desmodu, his own imminent death reflected in their dark, glittering orbs.</p><p></p><p>Dorn shouted desperately for help, but those most able to assist with the desmodu-- Wulf and Bala Saka-- were busy trying to hack their way to the beholder. </p><p></p><p>Finally, Karak was spurred to action. He stood up from behind the rubble, pulled the biggest bead he could find from his <em>necklace of missiles</em>, and flicked it with expert precision towards the beholder. A huge fireball exploded in an airburst behind the creature, and it finally collapsed lifeless to the ground.</p><p></p><p>As wounded as he was, however, Dorn had little hope of withstanding the desmodu attack. Keldas turned his attention from the beholder to assess Dorn's situation. The little dwarf had backed away from the desmodu somewhat, but from his position at the vanguard of the battlefield it would be impossible for Keldas to use his <em>acid breath</em> without catching Dorn in the blast. (He'd pulled that trick before, against the gorillons in Nightfang Spire, and Dorn had been none too happy about it-- in fact, he still brought it up on a regular basis.) At any rate, a single blast of acid wasn't likely to take down a desmodu warrior.</p><p></p><p>Now <em>hasted</em>, Keldas flew parallel to Dorn's melee and belched forth a pungent, roiling mass of gastric juices, carefully avoiding Dorn yet thoroughly drenching the desmodu at the back. As expected, it was not enough.</p><p></p><p>"Why not?" Keldas mused. "What works for the aasimar works for me..." </p><p></p><p>And with that, Keldas cast a second spell and let fly with a <em>fireball</em> of his own. The noise, the heat, the impact of the blast, filled the air and rebounded from the walls of the cavern. Yet it wasn't for that reason that it was the most attention-grabbing spell Wulf had ever witnessed.</p><p></p><p>"Yer dirty elven sonofabitch!" Wulf furiously chopped his way through the last of the trolls, dropping them to the ground and leaving Alliane to finish them off with a bit of flame. Gobbets of troll-flesh still sizzled along the length of <em>Taranak's</em> blade as Wulf dashed to Dorn's aid. Bala Saka was right behind him, pitching in against the fire-blasted desmodu, yet all the while trying to figure out why Wulf punctuated every blow with a string of expletives aimed at the elf.</p><p></p><p>"All this time... all this time... Yer bastard! Holdin' back! <em>Transmuter</em>? HA! Yer can bet yer pansy ass I'll be takin' a good look at yer ferkin' spellbook!"</p><p></p><p>Alliane stepped quietly between them, holding Shorty's broken body, but the solemnity of the moment was lost on Wulf. He pointed his brown, stubby finger at Keldas. </p><p></p><p>"NEVER TRUST AN ELF!"</p><p></p><p>"It's fortunate that the desmodu are as witless as you."</p><p></p><p>"Huh?"</p><p></p><p>"It was <em>shadow magic</em>, you dullard. An illusion."</p><p></p><p>"Oh, aye? Ahh... All right then." Wulf quickly changed the subject. "Oooh... Shorty's looked better..."</p><p></p><p>Alliane spoke again, hiding her emotions behind her usual matter-of-fact demeanor. "I suggest we retreat to the Forge."</p><p></p><p>And so it was decided. They returned up the long cavern highway the way they had come. Ere long they were returned safely home, to hand Shorty over to Diessa and the other dwarven acolytes. They would prepare the body for the Old Man to work his miracles.</p><p></p><p>"None too soon, neither. Little peck was mungin' a bit."</p><p></p><p>In the meantime, the Old Man was quite interested to speak with Viday, the first desmodu representative to make contact with the dwarves. Viday explained a bit more of their history, which in turn shed additional light on their current situation. The desmodu had allied themselves with salamanders who had come from the Elemental Plane of Fire to establish an outpost in the material realm. It was unclear the extent to which the salamanders were involved, but Chael Rendaar had been destroyed by diverting a flow of lava into their cavern-- the drow were annihilated by the unexpected eruption, and many of the riches of the city were still there, preserved under a shell of volcanic ash. </p><p></p><p>"That explains the beholders in the city, I reckon. Lookin' for arcane knick-knacks."</p><p></p><p>"Perhaps," said Viday, "but that alone doesn't explain why the desmodu warriors would ally with the Eye Tyrants. Our warriors are mercenaries, yes, but surely there is something else, something more there to tempt them. Useless arcane objects and mere mercenary's pay do not match the ambitions of our warrior caste."</p><p></p><p>It would take some time to restore Shorty, but in the meantime the rest of the group was eager to return, and there were preparations to be made. While Keldas checked in with his apprentices and scribed another spell or two, the paladin used his helm again to nip off on one of his holy shopping sprees. Wulf headed down the mountain to the nearby town, and returned with supplies-- lots of supplies.</p><p></p><p>"Got me an assload of rope, rations, spikes, stakes, caltrops, chalk, holy water, spare slings, lead bullets... yer name it."</p><p></p><p>"How do you intend to carry all that?"</p><p></p><p>"Bought me a <em>Heward's Handy Haversack</em>." Wulf patted the new bag over his shoulder. "Nifty little bastard."</p><p></p><p>Bala Saka spoke grimly and nodded towards the next room where Shorty's corpse lay at rest. "You shoulda bought a Heward's Handy <em>Bodybag</em>."</p><p></p><p>The group chuckled, though it was a dark humour. The Old Man looked on and frowned.</p><p></p><p>"True enough. Those beholders are no fun." Wulf pointed at Karak. "Brace yerself, assmar. From now on, yer on 'beholder detail.' Yer got the favor of the gods, and the best shot at resistin' all their unpleasantness. Yer number one priority is just to get up there and take 'em out."</p><p></p><p>Karak put on a brave face. "Well... All right. I guess that makes sense." He smiled a bit. "I can't do worse than Shorty."</p><p></p><p>The Old Man pointed a finger at him. "You of all people should not be so callously indifferent to danger... and death. If you die, I am powerless to help."</p><p></p><p>"Wh... What do you mean?"</p><p></p><p>"Your soul <em>belongs</em> in Celestia. I cannot ask Moradin to intervene on your behalf."</p><p></p><p>"Uhhh... What <em>exactly</em> are you saying?"</p><p></p><p>"Do you know nothing of your kind?" The Old Man sighed. "It is impossible to <em>ressurect</em> an aasimar."</p><p></p><p>"WHAT!?" Karak reeled in horror.</p><p></p><p>Wulf and Dorn exchanged a brief glance and burst out laughing.</p><p></p><p>"Bwahahahahahaha! Oh, that's good!" Dorn laughed bitterly through his beard.</p><p></p><p>"Not so great slummin' around with us mere mortals now, is it?" Wulf had to lean on Dorn for support, his kness were shaking so hard with laughter. "Poor assmar!"</p><p></p><p>Wulf looked up and even Keldas was smirking, ever so slightly. </p><p></p><p>"It's not funny!" shouted the paladin. "You take humor in my misery?"</p><p></p><p>It was enough to send Wulf into fits again. He pounded his fists together and tears welled up in his eyes. "Ach, stop! Yer too much! Really!"</p><p></p><p>Wulf finally managed to compose himself. "But just so yer know, this doesn't change things. Yer... heh heh... yer still on 'beholder detail.'</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Wulf Ratbane, post: 2655, member: 94"] [b]DEEP HORIZON Part II[/b] Using the various wands of healing the party had stashed here and there, they were rapidly restored to health. Thanks to Dorn's [i]Heal[/i] spell Wulf was the first back on his feet to take stock of the situation. Keldas has discovered a secret door on the western ledge that led into a large cave where the bat-people had evidently made camp. Wulf directed the others to gather the bodies and the captive and retreat to the cave, while he did his best hide the evidence of their struggle. Keldas had begun to interrogate the prisoner. After a tense moment where it made the mistake of addressing Keldas in undercommon, it switched to common, which it spoke surprisingly well. At least on the surface, the creature seemed happy and grateful to be rescued, though it endured a simultaneous interrogation from Wulf and Keldas-- with Keldas' inquisitive, scholarly questions being impatiently peppered with Wulf's short, staccato questions of a more pragmatic bent. "What's yer name?" "Viday." "By what name is your race known?" "We are the desmodu." "Why yer fightin' yer buddies?" "They caught me unawares. We are of differing factions, with opposed beliefs." "So they do have a civilization...? What is the nature of these factions?" "Desmodu are of three castes. Warriors, merchants, explorers. I am an explorer." Viday cupped the symbol that hung on a chain around his neck: three concave discs, arranged together like a clover. Keldas surmised that, to a bat, the symbol's odd shape would reflect sound, giving it a distinct "sonic silhouette." Wulf retrieved the symbols from the fallen desmodu and passed one out to everyone. "Aye... And these are warriors?" The symbol was like a figure eight lying in the bottom of a bowl. "Correct." "And why the disagreement?" Keldas pressed for more information. "The desmodu are very powerful and the warriors most powerful of all. They believe that we can go to the surface and simply take what we need by force. The merchants would rather trade." "And what of the explorers?" "We are peaceful, but we believe that more information is required. It has been many years since we have travelled to the surface." "Why now?" "We have made contact with representatives of your people from the surface, led by a human named Rourmed and an elf called Engram. They wish to open up trade with our city." "Yer got a whole city down here?" "Just beyond the ruined drow city. I would be happy to take you there, but... the way is dangerous." "Aye? How's that?" "There are beholders in the ruins, as well as many desmodu warriors who work with them. They prowl the ruins seeking the buried treasures of the drow." "How long before more warriors come this way?" "I do not know; I doubt they will." "An' that screech thing yer buddies did to the assmar... Yer can do that at will?" "No. Perhaps once a day." "Can yer fly?" "No. We train giant bats to carry us. We have grown too large for wings." "Ach, well, yer still hit like a bunch of nancies. Where's all yer bats, then?" "I don't know. I believe this group was part of a patrol brought here by others, and left as a guard post." "Well, I'm up for a visit to a new civilization and a ruined drow city," said Keldas. "Anybody have a problem with beholders?" Shorty was the first to raise his hand-- but not the last. "Great. Let's camp here and rest, recover our spells, and head for Chael Rendaar tomorrow." -------------------- They were greeted the next morning by a small patrol of surly dwarves. They were led-- against their better judgement, it seemed-- by a huge, brown-skinned human. His fire-scarred features, obviously the result of more than mere forge-fire, were hidden behind a thick black beard to rival that of any dwarf. He was Bala Saka, a foundling raised by dwarves. His kinship to Wulf, in spirit at least, was evident: bandoliers of daggers crisscrossed his chest, javelins sprouted awkwardly from a quiver on his back, and a glaive was draped in a sling over his shoulder. He bristled with weapons but seemed most confident with the iron-shod quarterstaff that supported his stooping frame. From beneath his bronze, wide-brimmed conquistador's helmet, he grunted a greeting to Wulf. "Where we off to?" "Drow city full of beholders." "All right then." Bala Saka jerked his thumb to the dwarf patrol. "You can go." Loyal stepped forward, his bow unstrung, his eyes downcast. "I'm going back, too. I've had enough." Shorty said nothing, obviously intending to stay, so Wulf spoke up to break the awkward silence. "Suit yerself." He nodded to the dwarves. "Yer lot can take care of the elf, right?" And with that, they parted ways. "Yer got some stones on yer, peck." -------------------- The party moved on to Chael Rendaar. Somewhat emboldened by Bala Saka's presence, Wulf once again agreed to move out in advance of the group. As the passages turned to open caverns, Wulf knew that they were approaching the city. He waited patiently for the group to join him. "Gonna head round to the left, through that suspicious lookin' slew o' rubble there. Keep yer eyes open." Keldas went one step further. He cast [i]Fly[/i] on himself and flew up into the cavern, hovering above the group but positioned so that he could see around a huge mound of volcanic rock that loomed in front of them. The rest of the group hid behind a low wall of rock and waited nervously. Now fully on his guard, Wulf crept forward, but even with his [i]darkvision[/i] he didn't see the desmodu coming. Four of them swept out of the darkness on their mounts. Wulf's instincts kicked in and he defended himself as best he could against their lances and the snapping teeth of their giant bats. Three of them stopped to surround him and the fourth circled wide around the volcanic outcropping. Wulf raised the alarm and the rest of the group scrambled clumsily over the wall to run to his aid. The paladin was the first to join him, and none too soon. Wulf had stood toe-to-toe for several desperate moments and the desmodu were already driving him back towards Dorn. Bala Saka stepped up behind the paladin with his glaive, forcing the desmodu back. Shorty was [i]hasted[/i] and levitated behind the wall, firing off [i]snowball swarms[/i] as fast as he could call them up. The spell was sized perfectly to catch the enormous desmodu in its blast without endangering any of his friends. Dorn was still slipping and scrabbling through the rubble when Wulf caught up to him. Dorn sighed and cast [i]Heal[/i] once again. The two dwarves supported each other as they turned and dashed through the rubble and back into the fray, screaming their battle cries. [i]Taranak[/i] was ablaze and [i]Syrius[/i], Dorn's holy great-axe, was thirsty for righteous slaughter. Keldas had wasted no time pursuing the fourth desmodu. In short order he'd slain its mount, and the desmodu spilled to the ground. Keldas watched as the bat-creature stooped low to the ground and began running on all fours, back into the ruins, where it no doubt hoped to warn its fellows. With passionless calculation, Keldas summoned a dire bear directly into its path and, his job done, turned to assist the rest of the group. His help arrived unneeded as Bala Saka, Dorn, Wulf, the paladin, Shorty, and even Viday were more than three desmodu and three giant bats could handle. Unfortunately, the dire bear had failed in its attempt to bring down the straggler. Heedless of danger, the desmodu turned its back and risked a flat-out run. The bear attempted to crush him and hold him beneath its massive paw, but the desmodu escaped-- severely ravaged, but free nonetheless. The bear was too slow to catch him, though it pursued him nonetheless. Whatever reinforcements the desmodu had roused, the dire bear [i]did not return.[/i] A light had appeared in the distance of the ruins, and grew steadily as it approached. Dorn, Alliane, and the paladin worked feverishly to repair the party with their wands before more enemies arrived, while the fighters spread out into fighting formation. Wulf stuck close to Bala Saka, Alliane and Dorn not far behind them. Keldas and Karak moved out on their left flank. No one noticed that Shorty was alone on their right flank, hiding in a pile of rubble. The first thing to hit them was the anti-magic, and the knowledge of what they would soon face, coming as it did with the sinking feeling as their magic left them, was no consolation. A pair of trolls swaggered around a volcanic chunk and came loping at the party-- too stupid to realize why the group of adventurers seemed to look right through them, utterly unconcerned with their presence. The group was far more interested in winkling out the beholder. With no spells, no wings, no [i]boots of striding and springing[/i], it was a mad dash. Keldas and the paladin sprinted off to the left, hoping to escape the cone-shaped effect of the beholder's anti-magic. Dorn did much the same-- or attempted to. In less dire circumstances the sight of the stubby dwarf, veritably entombed in his full plate armor, attempting a flat out run across shifting rubble, would almost have been humorous. Wulf and Bala Saka drew their weapons and charged the trolls-- though fully intending to charge past them, consequences be damned, if the opportunity to close with the beholder presented itself. Alliane kept pace with them just to their right, and when the trolls veered off to close with the elf maiden, Wulf had no choice but to draw up short and go to her aid. Bala Saka sprinted on through the anti-magic cone, like a salmon instinctively running up river to its source. Then the desmodu struck, swooping out of the sky on their giant bats. Two of them descended on Shorty, who could not hide from their [i]blindsight[/i]. The first desmodu struck him as it flew past, and the second buried its lance deep in his chest. The halfling squirmed piteously on the end of the lance, realizing too late that his [i]Amulet of Health[/i] had failed him under the anti-magic gaze. Wounds that would ordinarily have been mere scratches opened up into deep gashes; and the most severe of wounds-- the tip of the lance-- turned to a mortal blow. In that brief instant of dread realization, Shorty was deader than dead. As if on cue, the beholder's bloated form finally loomed into view, wobbling in midair in a most ungainly fashion. Its huge central eye was still fixed down the center of the cavern, but it had erred: It was too close. The arc of its anti-magic cone had narrowed near its source so that the party could-- with a bit of desperate effort-- spread out wide enough to avoid it. Keldas and Karak ran as fast as they could to the left. As soon as he cleared the anti-magic ray, Karak spoke the celestial command word and unfurled his [i]wings of flying[/i]. Half-running, half-hopping, like a wounded albatross, he sailed across the cavern and threw himself flat, face-first behind a pile of rubble. Keldas, on the other hand, was fearless. His [i]fly[/i] spell was still active, and he sailed along above the paladin until he was hovering just a few feet over the rubble. It was no use, he reasoned, to dive for cover. If the beholder couldn't see him, then he couldn't see the beholder-- and he'd need line of sight for what he had in mind. It seemed Keldas had a whole new bag of tricks. Eldritch power coruscated up and down the length of Keldas' arm, building like the headwaters of a flood as it flowed to his outstretched hand. A bright green ray burst from his fingertip and lanced towards the beholder, striking it solidly in the side. Keldas smiled. "One [i]disintegrate[/i] ray, one less beholder..." At least, that was how it worked in theory. In reality, the gaseous bulk of the beholder shuddered and shimmied for a brief moment before returning to normal. Three of its smaller eyes telescoped around to face Keldas and the beholder responded in triplicate: [i]disintegrate, flesh to stone[/i], and [i]finger of death[/i]. Not something a frail elven wizard wanted to deal with, even on his best day. Fortunately, Dorn had protected the group with [i]Haela's Touch[/i], and Keldas the elf freely called on the goddess of dwarven luck to save his hide. He'd wisely prepared himself in advance with the best cloaks, rings, and amulets he could craft. It was enough-- barely. But now his luck was spent. She could poke and prod at the fabric of reality, twisting things a bit in their favor once or twice, but there was only so much that the goddess Haela Brightaxe was willing to do-- for an elf or otherwise. Dorn was still trying to clamber over the ruined terrain to extract himself from the anti-magic ray. Just as he was about to finally clear the area of effect, the desmodu struck again. Shorty's assailants had returned aloft to join two more warriors, and the newly formed phalanx of aerial cavalry swept down en masse to surround the unlucky priest. "Well, luck ain't everything..." Dorn unshouldered his huge greataxe and defended himself as best he could. The desmodu struck first with their lances, sending blood fountaining from the gaps in Dorn's armor to splatter into the eager, gaping maws of their mounts, driving them into greater depths of blood-frenzy. Dorn staggered back and realized that the desmodu had arrayed themselves in a wide arc around him to cut him off from the rest of his allies. Dorn was no coward, but he knew that without magic, and alone, he was no match for the desmodu. He sidestepped out of the anti-magic cone and howled with glee as he felt [i]Syrius[/i] ripen to full enchantment-- along with his armor, helm, and other protections-- and most importantly, he noted the return of his [i]persistent divine might[/i]. Dorn felt the joy that only a priest can know: the eye of his goddess was upon him. And then it struck him: Soon enough it would be the [i]beholder's[/i] eye upon him once again, and he'd be right back in the crapper. "Ferka-buncha-THIS!" With one eye on the desmodu and one eye on the beholder, with [i]Syrius[/i] in one hand keeping his enemies at arm's length, Dorn concentrated on his free hand-- and on correctly forming the gestures that would complete the spell that he hoped would turn the battle. "Haela SMITE thee!" Dorn whirled [i]Syrius[/i] around to point at the beholder, his great-axe acting as the divine focus to enact the spell. The air crackled and the heavens split, and a column of fire roared down, engulfing the beholder in a booming conflagration of holy whup-ass. It did not die-- though its pain and anger was clearly written across its... face-like front arc. Its great central eye swept over Dorn, seeking the cause of its misery. Once again, all his strength and protection flew from him like shadows before the dawn, and Dorn turned to greet the pitiless desmodu, his own imminent death reflected in their dark, glittering orbs. Dorn shouted desperately for help, but those most able to assist with the desmodu-- Wulf and Bala Saka-- were busy trying to hack their way to the beholder. Finally, Karak was spurred to action. He stood up from behind the rubble, pulled the biggest bead he could find from his [i]necklace of missiles[/i], and flicked it with expert precision towards the beholder. A huge fireball exploded in an airburst behind the creature, and it finally collapsed lifeless to the ground. As wounded as he was, however, Dorn had little hope of withstanding the desmodu attack. Keldas turned his attention from the beholder to assess Dorn's situation. The little dwarf had backed away from the desmodu somewhat, but from his position at the vanguard of the battlefield it would be impossible for Keldas to use his [i]acid breath[/i] without catching Dorn in the blast. (He'd pulled that trick before, against the gorillons in Nightfang Spire, and Dorn had been none too happy about it-- in fact, he still brought it up on a regular basis.) At any rate, a single blast of acid wasn't likely to take down a desmodu warrior. Now [i]hasted[/i], Keldas flew parallel to Dorn's melee and belched forth a pungent, roiling mass of gastric juices, carefully avoiding Dorn yet thoroughly drenching the desmodu at the back. As expected, it was not enough. "Why not?" Keldas mused. "What works for the aasimar works for me..." And with that, Keldas cast a second spell and let fly with a [i]fireball[/i] of his own. The noise, the heat, the impact of the blast, filled the air and rebounded from the walls of the cavern. Yet it wasn't for that reason that it was the most attention-grabbing spell Wulf had ever witnessed. "Yer dirty elven sonofabitch!" Wulf furiously chopped his way through the last of the trolls, dropping them to the ground and leaving Alliane to finish them off with a bit of flame. Gobbets of troll-flesh still sizzled along the length of [i]Taranak's[/i] blade as Wulf dashed to Dorn's aid. Bala Saka was right behind him, pitching in against the fire-blasted desmodu, yet all the while trying to figure out why Wulf punctuated every blow with a string of expletives aimed at the elf. "All this time... all this time... Yer bastard! Holdin' back! [i]Transmuter[/i]? HA! Yer can bet yer pansy ass I'll be takin' a good look at yer ferkin' spellbook!" Alliane stepped quietly between them, holding Shorty's broken body, but the solemnity of the moment was lost on Wulf. He pointed his brown, stubby finger at Keldas. "NEVER TRUST AN ELF!" "It's fortunate that the desmodu are as witless as you." "Huh?" "It was [i]shadow magic[/i], you dullard. An illusion." "Oh, aye? Ahh... All right then." Wulf quickly changed the subject. "Oooh... Shorty's looked better..." Alliane spoke again, hiding her emotions behind her usual matter-of-fact demeanor. "I suggest we retreat to the Forge." And so it was decided. They returned up the long cavern highway the way they had come. Ere long they were returned safely home, to hand Shorty over to Diessa and the other dwarven acolytes. They would prepare the body for the Old Man to work his miracles. "None too soon, neither. Little peck was mungin' a bit." In the meantime, the Old Man was quite interested to speak with Viday, the first desmodu representative to make contact with the dwarves. Viday explained a bit more of their history, which in turn shed additional light on their current situation. The desmodu had allied themselves with salamanders who had come from the Elemental Plane of Fire to establish an outpost in the material realm. It was unclear the extent to which the salamanders were involved, but Chael Rendaar had been destroyed by diverting a flow of lava into their cavern-- the drow were annihilated by the unexpected eruption, and many of the riches of the city were still there, preserved under a shell of volcanic ash. "That explains the beholders in the city, I reckon. Lookin' for arcane knick-knacks." "Perhaps," said Viday, "but that alone doesn't explain why the desmodu warriors would ally with the Eye Tyrants. Our warriors are mercenaries, yes, but surely there is something else, something more there to tempt them. Useless arcane objects and mere mercenary's pay do not match the ambitions of our warrior caste." It would take some time to restore Shorty, but in the meantime the rest of the group was eager to return, and there were preparations to be made. While Keldas checked in with his apprentices and scribed another spell or two, the paladin used his helm again to nip off on one of his holy shopping sprees. Wulf headed down the mountain to the nearby town, and returned with supplies-- lots of supplies. "Got me an assload of rope, rations, spikes, stakes, caltrops, chalk, holy water, spare slings, lead bullets... yer name it." "How do you intend to carry all that?" "Bought me a [i]Heward's Handy Haversack[/i]." Wulf patted the new bag over his shoulder. "Nifty little bastard." Bala Saka spoke grimly and nodded towards the next room where Shorty's corpse lay at rest. "You shoulda bought a Heward's Handy [i]Bodybag[/i]." The group chuckled, though it was a dark humour. The Old Man looked on and frowned. "True enough. Those beholders are no fun." Wulf pointed at Karak. "Brace yerself, assmar. From now on, yer on 'beholder detail.' Yer got the favor of the gods, and the best shot at resistin' all their unpleasantness. Yer number one priority is just to get up there and take 'em out." Karak put on a brave face. "Well... All right. I guess that makes sense." He smiled a bit. "I can't do worse than Shorty." The Old Man pointed a finger at him. "You of all people should not be so callously indifferent to danger... and death. If you die, I am powerless to help." "Wh... What do you mean?" "Your soul [i]belongs[/i] in Celestia. I cannot ask Moradin to intervene on your behalf." "Uhhh... What [i]exactly[/i] are you saying?" "Do you know nothing of your kind?" The Old Man sighed. "It is impossible to [i]ressurect[/i] an aasimar." "WHAT!?" Karak reeled in horror. Wulf and Dorn exchanged a brief glance and burst out laughing. "Bwahahahahahaha! Oh, that's good!" Dorn laughed bitterly through his beard. "Not so great slummin' around with us mere mortals now, is it?" Wulf had to lean on Dorn for support, his kness were shaking so hard with laughter. "Poor assmar!" Wulf looked up and even Keldas was smirking, ever so slightly. "It's not funny!" shouted the paladin. "You take humor in my misery?" It was enough to send Wulf into fits again. He pounded his fists together and tears welled up in his eyes. "Ach, stop! Yer too much! Really!" Wulf finally managed to compose himself. "But just so yer know, this doesn't change things. Yer... heh heh... yer still on 'beholder detail.' [/QUOTE]
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Wulf's Collected Story Hour -- FINAL UPDATE 12/25
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