Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

1. Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

   #361

   Having found nothing more of value or interest in the mutinous Bard's chambers, Vee crept out into the hallway. There were distant sounds, likey the rumbling of the earth, moving through the stone. It was a comforting sound to those who were used to doing things underground, or around large amounts of stone. It was alive, it moved, it breathed. Most people were usually too noisy or impatient, or just not listened so never heard the stone speak. Down was the direction of dungeons, catacombs and barracks, places the rogue had no interest in visiting. Lords, clerics and wizards always went up. He slunk down the hallway until he found a staircase leading further up the tower, it was time to be cautious...
   
   (OOC - check for traps, magical and otherwise mr DM, and take me up, up, and away)

2. Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

   #362

   Ghosts? Aerex thought.  What did that mean?  Was she talking about the others?  Were the deaths of the two clerics weighing on her as well?  Or was she talking about him?  He pushed the thought out of his mind as best he could.  There was not much to do about it now, whatever it was.
   
   "Better have him wait out here on the staircase," Aerex added.  "If you need him, you can run out and get him."  He looked cautiously back up the staircase.  Creeping, he stepped ahead of Talia.  "I'll take point," he whispered, fingering his nocked arrow.  "I've probably got the best range."

3. Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

   #363

   Kadarin shook his head. "I expect we will need his help before this ends, and he may be what differentiates the ending from bad to good.  There will be no time to go get him. Mouse - It's your choice, but I think I am going to need your help. "
   
   
   
   
   

4. Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

   #364

   Henge looked to take his cue from the Returned One. Seeing none, raced his mind did. He knew the Way. Henge simply sprawled to the back wall, just a few steps from the door, in an odd manner... looking to be appropriately dead in his gore splattered robe. His staff was there, right at hand. Spells were upon his lips. He knew the entangling vine should capture and hold those foolish enough to enter. However, not knowing what manner of man, beast, or monster, was at the door. Discression be valor's better part.

5. Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

   #365

   Aethelstan smoothly brought the sword around in the practiced movements of the “Half-Sword” sword drill he had known since his youth.  In his mind, he could hear the holy chants that had filled the monastery of his youth, the blessed words of justice and repentance, sweet music that filled the air as the brethren conducted their rituals. 
   
   The music of his memories grew stronger, as he heard the words of the ancient psalm of lament.  The words of timeless sorrow echoed beautifully within the wonderful acoustics of the chapel, and he knew that he, too, was singing.  The revenant cleric held the sword ready as he tirelessly waited, ready to bring justice to those who had profaned this holy place.
   
   (OOC:  If someone enters that looks likely/capable of this carnage, they’re gonna get it!  If they don’t look capable of such damage, he will attempt to capture them.)

6. Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

   #366

   Donovan looked up from the table just as the two “visitors” turned to run out. Seeing the magus grow angry he backed away from the table.
   This was his only chance.
   
   As the wizard began casting his spell, Donovan moved himself between Lazanne and Alzamus. With a quick motion he pulled the powder from his sleeve and dashed it into the girl's wine glass, using the disturbance to mask his actions.
   
   “Are you MAD?!? You could hurt the child” Donovan yelled at the old mage “I’m not one to stand by and watch the death of an innocent! Take care in the waving of your hands. You’ve entrusted the girl and child to my care, if you continue carelessness in her presence I’ll have to restrict her to her rooms.”
   
   Donovan straitened himself and with an indignant look on his face stood to face Alzamus. “I appreciate your…determination to keep this place civil and polite, but a spell could go awry and hit her. I’m saying this for her, and your, own good Alzamus.”
   He softened the stern look he wore, letting his stance relax somewhat.
   “You gave me the honor of protecting her health, and I plan on doing it…from ANY threat, including wayward spells of a careless wizard!”
   He sat down slowly, his eyes darting between Alzamus and Lazanne. Satisfied the mage understood his concern, he looked again at the girl.
   “Drink your wine child, it’s good for the blood and the “birthing” humours…”
   

7. Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

   #367

   So, in the spirit of a lively finale, I present short and sweet posts, in lieu of verbose ones  :P
   
   Chapel Trio
   
   The knocking, the type of knocking a mischievous child might attempt, came once more, a fourth time now, and suddenly, as Henge and Moruz tensed, the lock on the door swiveled and 'clicked'. It took only a second or two, but the creaking of the slowly opening door seemed like an eternity, though not for Aethelstan, for whom eternity was a relative term.
   
   The door opened, but no one came through, nor was anyone or anything visible. The only thing that crossed the threshold was a chilling draft of night air, moaning, and further adding to the morbid moratorium’s surreal ambiance.
   
   Confused, Moruz kept staring down toward the now open door from above, while Aethelstan stood simple vigil, uncaring, unswerving, and unafraid. Henge leaned back against the wall, ever ready to play ‘dead’.
   
   Suddenly, as the draft caressed the magical vine, another sound could be heard, near and rapidly approaching. A screaming, cursing monk, (he had to be a monk with all the St. Senren and Andur references, peppered in with his profanity-laced tirade) was calling blight down on some wizard and some giant with phrases that would make a sailor blush.
   
   A survivor? Aethelstan suddenly thought. A giant? Moruz suddenly tensed. Danger! Henge surmised…coming this way.
   
   
   Next group's scene is coming up, ummm, next.

8. Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

   #368

   Aethelstan stood, chanting, his mind filled with purpose.  The will to do justice filled him like a goblet overflowing with wine.  Then, as he watched, the carven portal to the chapel slowly creaked open!  No visible agency propelled the doors; they gently opened as if some spirit of death had chosen that moment to join the trio of champions within.
   
   Seconds later, the clinging vines rustled, as if a gentle breeze had stirred.
   
   And Aethelstan KNEW!  The Evil that stalked these halls had come to him, had come to its Nemesis, the Hand of Andur!
   
   He was not distracted by the approaching giant or his frantic victim. “Justice will have its day!” he thought.
   
   He KNEW, and he struck!
   

9. Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

   #369

   Vee
   
   checking for traps during the ascent. One check succeeded! Both 'find' and 'remove/avoid'
   
   Vee carefully and studiously ascended the great spiral stair, every step analyzed, every movement efficiently measured. He made his way along the shadowed tower, like a prowling possum, alone in the night.
   
   Reaching what seemed to be the final landing, Vee paused and listened. Nothing…nothing but the wind licking at the stone walls outside.
   
   He glanced at the smooth wall and began to circle the tower’s zenith. In the center of the donut-shaped hall, the staircase’s abyss, evoked vertigo, and thus Keykold stayed close to the wall and away from the chasm.
   
   He now could spy two doors, one each, on opposite sides of the circular hall. One, no doubt must lead to the Great Bell, Vee thought, looking up once more and seeing the wooden latticework twenty feet higher, which cradled the mighty bronze thing, its reverberating signal once summoning the monks to prayer, but now still and silent. The other door was a mystery. An abbot’s fancy quarters perhaps? The humble chamber of some erstwhile bell ringer?
   
   Vee froze suddenly, as he noticed something at the ground beneath one of the doors. A fine, near invisible wire, a thread of dust to the common eye and no more, was suddenly visible to the tomb-raider. A trip wire? That made little sense, outside a door, Vee wagered, but what then? Vee quickly scanned the stone tile below and in front of the second door, as he slowly made his way around to the other side. No wire. Hmmmm.
   
   Vee suddenly realized something else. He was completely alone in this wind-haunted tower.
   
   Carefully with silken fingers, Vee removed the wire. An innocent looking thing, and would probably make a great garrote, he smiled. No easy task this was however for the unskilled. Keykold removed the wire just so...whatever its purpose had been, it would alert no one now...of anything.
   

10. Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

    #370

    Kadarin, Talia, Aerex, Mouse, and...Koschei?
    
    As Talia, Aerex, and Kadarin whispered and crouched, Mouse smiled. He was mute, but not deaf. They cared, he had found a family to call his own. No giant, or wizard, or deathly specter could change that!
    
    The albino turned to Kadarin, as the young mage addressed him. He didn’t have to think for any amount of time. Shaking his head vociferously, the boy informed the mage that he would follow him no matter the danger, or at least that’s how Kadarin understood it. He had learned, but not yet mastered, the boy’s unique brand of sign language.
    
    So, Matere, Aerex thought to himself, don’t know how you ended up here, eh? Doesn’t matter now does it? Now you need to protect Talia, her name always came up first in his thoughts, the hapless (to Aerex) mage, and now his scrawny, adopted apprentice as well. A far cry from Jantir, this…he concluded, and stalked forward, up the stairs and through the closed but now unlocked outer door.
    
    Talia followed wordlessly. She would have to have her wits about her now, she reasoned. These three were counting on her, as were others. She knew what had to be done, despite herself. She had found more and more lately that her own thoughts were of Jantir, where Konos had said her father might now be, not of mountain peaks and hinterlands, and certainly not of haunted, giant-infested monasteries.
    
    But first, the Bladedancer thought, as she steeled herself, whatever foulness lay within these stonewalls, had to be dealt with, there was no other way.
    
    She followed the crouching inspector, as the fearful, but wily Kadarin, spells running through his mind like physical sensations along nerve endings, brought up the rear with Mouse.
    
    The classic order, Talia managed a weak smile. Rogue ahead, fighter next, mages in the rear. She hoped for the best, as the quartet entered the long, empty foyer of the monastery. Commotion could be heard from a nearby chamber, but the weird acoustics of the place, prevented an easily identifiable direction from presenting itself.
    
    Aerex pointed at the floor suddenly, and froze. There was Dujek’s lizard, flailing its little lizard arms, while perilously perched on its hind legs, trying to get the inspector’s attention. The lizard kept bobbing its head up and down, mouth agape, and then finally turned, and scurried off, turning to make sure Dujek’s companions were following.
    
    The lizard darted through one hall and then another, and then finally, Aerex could spy a strong light, coming from an open double door, the smell of roast fowl permeating the air. Some shouting, some talking, and apparently a heavy dose of physical activity was going on inside.
    
    “Bind them! They will not act like proper guests? Barbarians! Bind them!” Kadarin could now hear. The voice sounded peculiarly like his uncle’s voice, surely it wasn’t him of course, but the tone of the mellifluous speaker sent a shiver down Kadarin’s spine nonetheless.
    

11. Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

    #371

    Moruz, Henge, Aethelstan, Fyrfyrion, Tirron, Grilgrull, and....Jjuldae!?
    
    
    “Orcus’ pus-filled, hoof!” Fyrfyrion thought, as the quasit beat a hasty retreat back out the chapel door. He had picked the wrong ones to “play with”!
    
    So, the quasit thought as it flew, the dead have risen. It was only a matter of time, Fyrfirion giggled, with all this carnage. Poor Alzamus was in a pickling jar now, the quasit laughed once more.
    
    Now to find others to play with.
    
    -  -    - -
    
    Unbeknownst to Fyrfyrion, another flying creature spotted him as the quasit flew from the monastery. Spotted, for this flying creature's senses allowed it to see what its old form could not. Gently riding the night currents, a single, lonely osprey began its descent toward the monastery once more, eyeing the horrid, little demon, as a hawk eyes a rabbit from above. Jjuldae's senses were returning to him. He could not remember much of anything, but the Quauszzsat, or the Quasit, as men called it, was a blasphemous stain on Nature. The people of the Stone Soul could never suffer demons.
    
    - -     - -
    
    
    Aethelstan had swung the mighty monastery blade with the practiced ease of warrior, slicing the air with an audible whistle. Whatever he had aimed for, he missed, Moruz thought as he looked on a bit perplexed, but Henge could see the Returned One’s purpose. The druid had heard a gurgle…a slight, vulgar sound, when Aethesltan cleaved the air, and knew that a hidden foe was present.
    
    Henge had little time to react himself however, as a new, presence made itself known. A huge presence…one easily seen this time!
    
    Standing on the other side of the now open doorway, a massive giant of stone was staring at Aethelstan dumbly, while hauling an enraged monk beneath its might arm.
    
    Moruz eye socket filled twitched with dull pain, as the desert warrior’s good eye focused on the monster in the doorway.
    
    Henge readied spells, or hummed, it was difficult to tell. Aethelstan grimly faced the giant, sword raised once more. Only the druid’s summoned vine separated the monk-lugging giant from the three companions.
    
    Without warning and with such force, as was difficult to imagine, Grilgrull suddenly raised the screaming, struggling monk over his head, and with both arms flung the cursing holy man like a missile of bone and flesh at the erstwhile priest of St. Senren.
    
    Living flesh and bones smashed into dead and decaying flesh and bone, and Aethelstan collapsed to the floor, the entire weight of the hurtling monk knocking him off his feet immediately. A mighty impact indeed!
    
    “AAARRWWWWWwwwoooorrrooo!” the giant screamed at the top of his lungs
    
    
    the stone giant won initiative and threw Tirron at Aethelstan for TEN points of damage. Tirron passes out, near death from the crash. Your turns!
    

12. Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

    #372

    Alzamus, Donovan, Vorodon, Dujek, and...cronies of Alzamus
    
    Slowly, Vorodon came to. What a strange time for a nap he thought, but then tensed, his muscles bulging as the half-ogre felt bindings digging into his flesh and holding his mighty girth in place. Silken ropes were tightly woven around his ample form. He was sitting on some sort of thick oaken throne-like chair, and from his feet to his neck was wrapped like a mummy, in weightless, but incredibly resilient rigging. He opened his mouth to speak, then momentarily thought better of it, as he surveyed the scene.
    
    A young, grinning man was standing a mere ten feet away from the sitting half-ogre, holding a fearsome steel crossbow, bolt notched, pointing the weapon at Voro’s forehead.
    
    He could also see a beautiful, languid young lass, a thick-boned, foul smelling matronly woman, and another man, this one obviously the Master…the one in charge, even Voro could tell quite easily. The man rose from the dining table and strode effortlessly toward the half-ogre, his feet making no sound, his cloak glistening in the dancing candlelight.
    
    Alzamus stopped directly in front of the half-ogre, and smiled, like a reptile sensing the suns’ warming rays.
    
    The big-boned woman meanwhile made her way to another chair, where the now awake but groggy Dujek(!) was also immobile and bound. In addition, the necromancer had some kind of hard, black, rubber-like ball stuffed in his mouth, preventing him from speaking, casting a horrible countenance, and most of all, thought Vorodon glumly, causing the mage’s already dislocated jaw, severe pain and discomfort.
    
    Mazoma was now poised near Dujek as Alzamus was near Vorodon. The unpleasant matron was holding a thick, foot long candle, dangerously close to the necromancer’s face, the wax dripping down on the mage’s pale green robe.
    
    Another figure could now be seen by Vorodon, a man holding a bizarre looking musical instrument in his hands. The musician had no taste for torture, Vorodon surmised, as he was still sitting at the great table, a look of peculiar disgust and anger clouding his fine features. Yet he did nothing, the half-ogre noted.
    
    I rolled a requested 'strength' check. Sorry, noble Vorodon, it failed. You're in a pickle now
    

13. Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

    #373

    Vee sighed softly as the wire came away from it's trap. No need in looking like an amatuer on his first raid. Despite all the bungling from breaking into Skreep's in Ganse, he was now grateful for it. He was calm, not jittery with virgin excitement. He checked the door to make sure the wizard had no other lurking traps. He gathered a small handful of dust from the corner where the wire trap had been, and gently blew it towards the door. One of his professors had espoused such a technique in detecting magical traps on doors such as glyphs.
    
    (OOC - one last check for traps check, and then, in we go, assuming the door is unlocked, or if it is locked, that I can pick the lock. Once in, check for lewtz)

14. Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

    #374

    The wizard pulled his fingers through his hair making sure he looked alright. If there was anything that perplexed him, it was looking anything but his absolutely best.
    
    “Sing Donovan. Sing something grand! Sing of my glory and our future here in the keep!”
    
    Then he turned to the half-ogre, the mage’s smile seeming genuine and honest. With a fluid motion he stretched his hands to either side, baring his palms, a gesture of confusion and innocence. “So, why do you run when I have cooked all night in preparation of your coming!” it was more an accusation than any actual question.
    
    The half-ogre started to reply, but Alzamus wasn’t really interested in what anyone else had to say at the moment.
    
    “No!” he stated. “No! This won’t do! This won’t do! I can’t have any of this… Insolence!” with a hard look he slapped the half-ogre across the cheek. Hair fell into Alzamus’ eyes as he did so and indignantly the wizard removed it with a brush of his hand and a jerk of his head. Then he began his chanting, his voice baritone, his eyes psychotically fixed upon the half ogre. When he finished he smiled.
    
    “Ah, yes! Much better! I think this will do!”
    
    Stepping away for good measure (and because things didn’t always work out as planned), Alzamus ordered Mazoma to release the burly warrior.
    
    (OOC: Spell description sent to Muro. (I do not reveal it because I figure that is what the non-weapon proficiency “spellcraft” is all about, and Muro’s gonna reveal if appropriate ;) ))
    

15. Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

    #375

    Could it possibly be my uncle? Kadarin thought quickly, I never knew him to be a mage - it seemed he kept that little secret from me well.
    
    Hearing the rest of Alzamus's comments.
    
    It IS my uncle - and it sounds like he has gone mad!
    
    Kadarin's uncle was many things - buisnessman, ruffian and sometimes scholar, and now a wizard.  Kadarin had known him always as perhaps cruel, but one bounded by reality.  The words he just spoke sounded both like and unlike his uncle. Possession?
    
    Then there was the spell.
    
    

16. Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

    #376

    Aethelstan swung mightily at the unseen menace, but to no avail.  Looking around to spot signs of its passage, he glanced up just in time to see the giant’s hapless victim hurled at him!  The unfortunate slammed into him with a terrific concussion, and everything went black for a moment as he crashed into the wall and fell, battered and broken. 
    
    Lying there, he sensed that he had been seriously damaged by the blow.  He shook his head twitchily as he rose eerily back to his feet.  For a moment, his movement wasn’t human; the shadow within him moved without conscious volition. 
    
    Grasping the pure flower of St. Senren, Aethelstan, the Hand of Andur, invoked the power of the saint in the invocation of healing.  Disturbingly, the ritual was twisted by the darkness that animated his battered corpse.  As had happened before, what once was positive and holy now was touched by death.  Dark power coursed through him, mending shattered bone and rebinding his tissues.  He could feel his undead features slightly restored as the greenish nimbus of power flickered over him.
    
    OOC:  6 points healed, and a morale check for anyone disturbed by corpses that… (cue ominous music) WILL NOT DIE!

17. Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

    #377

    From his birds-eye perspective, Moruz now was able to study the mighty stone giant he had encountered before. In the cave, just after awakening, he had been rattled, confused. Now, in a different light, he was able to study this beast for what it was...
    Moruz paled - he would have had no chance at all in fair combat against this behemoth!
    And then the giant flung a Senrenite priest at Aethelstan, knocking the undead back. But Aethelstan arose, and a sickly glow surrounded him - obviously a heal spell, but it seemed to make Moruz nautious simply by looking at it! The glass warrior turned back to stare at Grilgrull the Giant. Was that a look of confusion and worry on the beasts face? Mmm. Moruz knew the Sun giants were quite superstitious... perhaps the Stone variety was, too? And when this beast attacked, it fled before it saw whether or not it had killed the Ouzquin Dremorix, did it not?
    
    Moruz paused in thought for a moment more - what he was planning to do was almost ridiculously dangerous if it failed... but if it worked? Perhaps no bloodshed (Apart from the poor monk who was thrown at Aethelstan). A decision was made, and Moruz moved! He stalked over to a closer pile of the clerical corpses in the loft and, uttering a faint apology to nobody in particular, he dipped his hand in a partially coagulated wound in the midsection of one of the priests, before smearing lines of blood across his face - in a tear-pattern from his empty socket, and also splattered blood across the glass-and-leather tunic he wore. He didn't need any more make-up; after all, his face was already as pale as death with fear. A final touch was done to Moruz's appearance: He slung his Ouzala onto his back, and then withdrew the same spike he had previously used on the giant, coated it in blood as well, and then turned...
    
    Grilgrull was spooked, plain and simple - the human who he had thrown the monk at was not as human as he had first thought, and now the 'victim' had an eerie, sickly-green nimbus of magic curling around it's body...
    *Thunk*
    Directly in front of the doorway, just on the other side of the broken web of vines, a blood-soaked body landed audibly on the wooden floor in a kneeling position. The glitter of crimson-stained glass flickered from the chest-piece this new form was wearing, and for a moment, the person remained perfectly still.
    And then Moruz rose to a relaxed standing position and raised his face. Both eyelids were wide open, though his single eye was not focussing on anything in particular, and a sadistic grin was splayed across his blood-streaked features. In his left hand - which was hanging loosely to his side - the Iron spike which had wounded Grilgrull was jutting out sideways. And the blood on it still looked fresh! The Glass warrior took a single step forward with a limping gait (Half for effect and half due to the fall he just performed from the vines above the door!), and now the previously unfocussed eye swivelled in its socket, before falling upon the stony features of the giant before him. That grin widened slightly, and Moruz spoke in the most nuetral tone he could muster, addressing the giant. "We rise for you. We are... coming... for you."

18. Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

    #378

    The massive Volgotoi warrior strained mightily at his bonds as he felt the pompous wizard’s spell began to eat at his will and befuddle his mind.  Where had these people found the ropes they’d used?  They were as strong as cables!
    
    “Ah, yes! Much better! I think this will do!” said Alzamus, with a dramatic gesture, as if he’d just completed some impressive feat of magic.
    
    Voro wasn’t sure what the man had done, but he knew that he had to find a way to escape his bonds!  The wizard was going to do something to his other new friends, and he had to stop them!  As he tried to divine some way of freeing himself, the wizard’s voice called out again (He DOES like to hear himself, Voro reflected) and ordered Mazoma to release him.
    
    It was but the work of a few moments for the stoutly-built woman to unfasten him.  Finally free, Vorodon could hardly contain his relief.  “Thank most, Lady!  Volgottir nolike tied!”
    
    “I suppose that you’re welcome, then” replied the matron.  She warily stepped back, carefully remaining between Vorodon and his weaponry, heaped upon a nearby bench.
    
    “So, warrior, what are you called?” asked Alzamus, watching Vorodon’s reaction with hawk-like attention.  Vorodon blanched a bit under his new friend’s scrutiny:  He had already lied to the woman, and apparently Alzamus suspected. 
    
    Vorodon licked his lips nervously and began to speak, “Namecall Vor…”
    
    “I know!”  cut in Alzamus.  “We shall simply call you ‘Ogre’!  That is no doubt more suitable than whatever barbaric name you had previously gone by!  I should have done the same with Grilgull, but we’re all quite used to his name now.”  Pausing to ensure that his sycophants were giving him suitable attention, the wizard resumed his questioning.  “Ogre, I’m sure that your companions would like to join us.  How many of them are there?  I would hate for the kitchen to be caught unprepared.”
    
    “Vor… Ogre go for six friend here mashea mountain, come for to look friend Bross, helf crazy monk friend.”
    
    “Yes.  Your crazy monk friend would be the one that Grilgull escorted to the chapel, I take it?"  Poking at Dujek, he continued, "I assume that this awkward fellow is another.  Who are the others and where are they now?  I, for one, would certainly be most disappointed if I missed their arrival.”
    
    “Friend come for here:  Insecter, he catch crimes; Vee, he like look to holes; Vee and Insecter like Talia!  Talia blade danzer;  and wizard Kadarin come, too!  He like blow things ud!”
    
    A strange expression crossed the wizard’s face as Vorodon finished his answer, but Vorodon had no idea what to make of it.  Alzamus, however, seemed to arrive at a decision.  “Ogre, you should escort our bard, Donovan, and Lazanne, the lovely young lady, to the tower bedroom.  I need you to ensure that they are undisturbed there.  Is that CLEAR, Ogre?”
    
    "Yes.  Ogre clear."
    
    "That should be 'Yes, Master!" the wizard ordered imperiously.
    
    Vorodon gathered his weapons as he answered, "Yes, Masterr Althamus."

19. Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

    #379

    Henge hums out a fairyfire upon the giant, making him easier to hit and spot, as well as disoriienting him for a moment
    
    Then he lurches forwards with his staff in hand. part stumbling forwards, he comes to his feet... making a low and less than human wail (A quail's mating call it was, but the giant did not know that). Henge move forward slightly blindly, keeping his head at an odd angle.  Coming to his feet, staff in partial postion, he outstretched his hand towards the giant.
    
    

20. Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

    #380

    What the hell is he doing?! Aerex fumed in his head as Vorodon plainly listed everything he knew about the adventurers to their supposed enemy.  Why would he do that?  It's like someone just - Aerex paused.  Like someone just opened up his head.  Of course!  The wizard's spell must have been some sort of mind-control enchantment!  Aerex's face was grim.  The last thing they needed was a Volgotoi turned against them.  The sorcerer would have to be stopped now, before he caused any more trouble.
    
    Aerex glanced at Koschei - the lizard looked like it would be fuming reptilian swear words, if he could hear it - and back at Talia, Karadin, and Mouse.  It's go time, he thought silently with a determined nod.  Aerex crept up toward the door, making sure to keep low but swift, hiding in the shadows that played from the fire from the dining hall.  He could see figures now, two women, a soldier brandishing a crossbow, some kind of entertainer with a musical instrument, a well-dressed man shouting angrily - yes, him.  He must be the wizard.  Aerex raised his bow and shut his left eye.  This has to count, he thought firmly.  Carefully, carefully the arrow was trained on the wizard.  Inhale, exhale, inhale... fire.
    
    (ooc: Sneak, Hide in Shadows, and attack!  However many rounds that takes. :D)

21. Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

    #381

    “As you wish, my liege…” Donovan whispered through gritted teeth. His mind was racing, filled with anger and disgust. No one deserved this torture, the poor ogrish fellow least of all. He had to do something, but all he could do was play.
    
    With a smirk playing gently across his lips, Donovan began to draw the bow across the strings.
    And old song of his people, in his native tongue, droned through the great hall.
    This was the forgotten ways…he played the song in a manner befitting bards of old. No longer an art practiced, but one rumored, he drew the bow feverously across the strings. This song would stir the hearts in everyone who listened, enrapturing all who heard it.
    
    Slowly he continued as his voice dropped to a rasping growl. He watched as the large man struggled against his bonds, loosing himself to Alzamus’ spell.
    Donovan could only hope that his song would soothe the tortures the ogre had to endure, and spare his heart the worst of it.
    
    Moments later…
    
    Donovan stopped playing abruptly and let the rebec hang limply at his side.
    The tower? he thought, his mouth gaping. This is going wrong quickly.
    He hooked the instrument on his belt, thinking it wise not to protest. He slowly assisted Lazanne to her feet, carefully supporting her.
    “No reason the girl should be in danger, Alzamus. I’ll take as good care of her as I would my own dear mother” he said with almost too much sincerity “rest assured that she will be well in our care.”
    
    His hope nearly gone, he turned towards the door. A light breeze drifted through the room…
    
    Ta bee eeit jarroodit.  Cha vel fer erbee cha bouyr, as eshyn nagh jean clashtyn.
    
    A slight grin began to grow on his lips. All was going to be well, he was sure of it…
    

22. Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

    #382

    Talia carefully peeked in, quickly taking stock of the situation, as Aerex made his move.  The old man, that must be the one.  She hoped Aerex was aiming the same as she was.  Speed was what would save them now.  She visualized the layout.  It would be a hard shot, but she thought she could do it.  She'd throw at the same time Aerex shot, better that way.  This was the only surprise shot she'd get.  If they missed, things would become much more difficult.
    
    (OOC: Same rolls as Aerex, please, timing it to attack at the same time)

23. Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

    #383

    As the missles lept into the air, Kadarin began to chant - envisioning a sticky mess catching the three villains(uncle included) where they sat and stood.  Unless his uncle was a LOT stronger then he thought, this would stop him from escape, and from spellcasting...
    
    Hopefully they'll use the table as cover from the incoming missles - bring them all together nice and close.
    

24. Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

    #384

    With the half ogre getting ready to leave, Alzamus was ready to act. Wrapping his cloak tightly about him he too would enter the tower. Quickly opening the double doors he half ran inside, not waiting for the half ogre to follow. "Galod! Bring along the bound one. We are regrouping in the tower!"
    
    (OOC: Sorry guys, but Alzamus has no intention to stay. Not acting on meta information. I already informed Muro of this before you posted. ;)
    Also, some of Alzamus' actions will now be posted to Muro via pm. Stuff will happen you see. Stuff you... don't see :p)

25. Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

    #385

    The Dining Hall
    
    --Alzamus barked his orders, and turned to go, but just as he did, he turned back again, catching a moving shadow out of the corner of his eye…then another.
    
    --“Galod!” Alzamus called out, and immediately, the unpleasant, prematurely gray-haired young man swiveled his crossbow, temporarily ignoring Dujek, who was still bound, but now wriggling around on the floor like a giant green-robed inch-worm. Within a split second his bow was poised to fire at any threat that showed itself.
    
    --For her part, Mazoma, shrieked, not in fear, but in a terrible rage. Candelabra in one hand and suddenly a long curved knife in the other she brazenly ran at Talia, whom the woman had spied throwing some bizarre projectile only a moment earlier. Fury was in the heavy-set woman’s eyes, her white wolf cape, trailing behind her. The &^%$@ had dared to attack Master Alzamus, her true love, Mazoma thought as she charged, and now she would pay for her audacity!
    
    --Another figure, some brain-addled monk, who had been serving trays of bread and onions, tossed his serving dish into the air, screamed once effeminately, and ran from the hall toward the kitchens.
    
    --An arrow, from Aerex’ bow whizzed by Alzamus, striking and shattering against the stone of the opposite wall. A miss, but that fact did little to appease the furious wizard.
    
    --A second later, Alzamus suddenly felt a warm, liquid trickle near his ear. A “Phhssst” sound echoed near him, but he felt no pain. It had happened to quickly. Talia’s steel fan was no direct hit, but it did not stop the deadly projectile from “taking a bit o’ flesh”, in this case, Alzamus left ear, which flew off, landing meekly a few feet from the mage. The fan continued its flight, smashing into the wall in a shower of sparks, and finally dropped behind the dining table.
    
    --Kadarin cast his spell in the chaos. Mouse huddled behind him, unseen, silently mouthing the words of sorcery along with the young mage. Moral support, so to speak.
    
    Still vexed from his misfire, Aerex was deciding between firing again and rushing in, but froze, as he stared at Kadarin. Grayish-black strands of giant spider webs, or at least that’s how they appeared to Aerex, shot outward from Kadarin’s outstretched fingers, eldritch sorcery, the likes of which, neither companion, Aerex or Talia, had seen before from the humble Kadarin. A many-layered mass of strong, sticky strands, burst forth, trapping both the charging Mazoma and the crossbowman, Galod, alike.
    
    Mazoma raged, brandishing her dagger and candelabra, but just then, the candle touched the web enfolding her, and a flame burst forth, dancing along the highly flammable, web strands enveloping her, burning the woman alive in the process. She screamed…and screamed, but still lived.
    
    --Webs covered Dujek as well, and he now appeared as a giant cocoon of some netherworld being
    
    --Alzamus cursed, but managed to side-step the adhesive harbingers of woe, and paused for only a moment, contemplating flight, while managing his inner rage.
    
    The center of the room was now a quagmire of sickly black, spider webs, but soon the strands would all catch fire, and a miniature (disco) inferno would erupt across the chamber, seperating the intruders from the wizard.
    
    Galod managed to fire, as he struggled to escape the clutches of Kadarin’s magic. It was no use.
    
    The crossbow bolt struck Mouse somehow, who was not even in the room, but crouching near the doorway. Alas, such was risk of “adventuring”. The huge bolt went deep into the youth’s stomach, and for a moment he glanced at Kadarin, confusion in his pale, liquid eyes, but then just as quickly collapsed, grasping the bolt in both hands.
    
    Alzamus suffered 4 points of damage. His turn. Then I roll initiative. Mazoma is burning alive in web strands, Galod, may soon catch fire too, as well as Dujek, who is rolling around on the floor, still bound and gagged. Galod and Mazoma will NOT be getting an "action" next round. They are somewhat screwed  :P

26. Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

    #386

    Dujek, seeing the candles fall, and hearing the wench with the mage screaming in pain as it started to boil her skin.  Wishing to get away from her as fast as he could, Dujek started roll across the room, screaming profanities as well as he could through the gag in his mouth.

27. Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

    #387

    Talia screamed in Romani.  The web, yes that was a good idea.  They hadn't counted on the fire, and that made things much more urgent.  Dujek needed help, but Mouse was in bad, bad shape, and there was still the wizard and Vorodon to deal with.  She was no healer.  But Mouse was only a boy.  There wasn't enough time.  It only took her a fraction of a second to decide.  She lunged for Mouse almost as soon as he fell, yanking a bandage out of her pocket and trying to do what she could to staunch the bleeding.
    
    (OOC: Heal check, Mr. DM)

28. Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

    #388

    Unexpected fury filled kadarin as he saw what happened to mouse! Reaching into his robe he drew forth his sling and snapped a bullet at the crossbowman - he did not have time to ready another spell!
    
    Talia - take them down he thought We won't be able to help mouse if we're dead.
    
    

29. Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

    #389

    The Chapel
    
    As Grilgrull tossed the monk at these surprising intruders, he gazed intently upon the scene. He had knocked down one monk with another, but where had this one come from? And now he was rising again, Grilgrull furrowed his brow; few men could withstand such a collision! The shrouded monk indeed rose up once more, as Grilgrull watched in confusion, and chanted in a terrible, hoarse voice. Pale-green wisps of energy were crawling up his skeletal form.
    
    Aethelstan stood his ground, raising his great blade once more.
    
    Grilgrull considered rushing past the clingy vine (wait, when did that grow there?) covering the portal, but then reconsidered, a strange new notion invading the stone giant’s shriveled mind. The notion was one of fear, but Grilgrull had not yet allowed his own realization to dawn on him, slow-witted as he was, and he stared, unsure of what to do.
    
    Suddenly the giant spotted another figure, a crouched, limping, monk, wielding a heavily-knobbed staff, and making his way directly at the stone giant (!), an odd humming noise issuing from the monk’s hidden mouth. Grilgrull paled, though this was not discernable to the human eye, and took a long step back, reassessing the situation. Something still buzzed in the back of his mind, but he could not yet allow the thought to surface.
    
    “ARRRRARRRrrrrrrooooohh!!! The giant suddenly screamed, and the great howl reverberated across the chapel walls, nearly deafening the fearless Henge. Grilgrull had just noticed a bright aura of dancing light enshrouding his own massive form, mocking painless fey flames moving gingerly up his body toward his head.
    
    This was nearly too much for Grilgrull. Just then, the panicking giant noticed yet a third monk (!) who had leapt down from the rafters, and was now advancing on Grilgrull as well. This one was terrifying to behold, blood oozed down his empty eye socket, and a leer of calm purpose shone in his one good eye.
    
    "We rise for you. We are... coming... for you."
    
    An imagined pain suddenly erupted in giant’s throat, as he looked at what the last monk was carrying. A brutal, blood-covered shard of iron…the same….one…as—Finally the thought that had hovered in his granite head hit home! The giant turned to flee, screaming as he ran.
    
    “Killed you all! Killed you all!! Help me Alzamus!!”
    
    The dead had arisen, Grilgrull thought as he ran. He was being punished! All those he had killed at Alzamus’ behest were reborn again, and seeking retribution…the Grave’s Revenge, the worst kind.
    
    Grilgrull had to tell Alzamus anon. Even serving the vile wizard was preferable to being slain by the dead!
    
    A ten-foot tall stone giant, ashen with fear, and aglow in a weird, purplish light rushed across the courtyard heading for the main hall, a beacon in the night, attempting to outshine the Moon itself.
    

30. Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

    #390

    Aerex could only watch the wicked bolt soar through the air and plunge into Mouse's chest.  He hear himself scream "No!" as the world seemed to slow around him.  Damn you, Kadarin!  I told you not to bring him!  Matare spun back around.  The crossbowman was as good as dead, along with the woman.  Kadarin's own magic would avenge Mouse.  The wizard, though... He would still need to pay.
    
    Aerex's eyes locked onto him, blood flowing from the stump around the now-bare ear canal.  Fury flared in the inspector's eyes.  In a fluid motion, Aerex pulled an arrow from his quiver, nocked it and fired, all his hate pouring into the metal tip.
    
    (OOC: Attack!)

31. Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

    #391

    “Don Ovann?  How is way for tower?” Vorodon asked the slight bard as they headed out of the room.  As much as he wanted to impress his new friend, the… ‘Master Wizard’, he really had no idea how the monastery was laid out. 
    
    Suddenly, all hell broke loose in the chamber that they had just left.  Striding back toward the doorway, Vorodon stared at the suddenly erupting carnage.  As he gawked, he realized that his friends were the ones attacking his new friend, the wizard!  He had to stop this fight before someone got killed!  He shouted back to the girl and Donovan, who was doing something he couldn’t quite make out.  The girl was clinging to the bard, pale with fright.  Frozen in place, she looked as if she were about to faint.
    
    “Ovaan!  Getting girl up out!  Vor... Ogre try for stopped fight!” he shouted, and rushed in to the chamber.  A mass of tangled webbing now filled part of the room, with several people tangled up in it.  The big woman had somehow been lit on fire, and the flames were spreading.  While he could see his new friend, Master Alzamus, in the tangled mess, the man appeared to be all right.  Dujek, on the other hand, was still tied up and had somehow gotten himself hopelessly tangled. 
    
    “Stop!  Stop!  No fight more!” the Volgottir warrior shouted as he rushed to save his friend.  Wading into the webbing, he grabbed Dujek by the belt and hauled mightily.  The webbing fought him, clinging to them both as if it had a perverse will of its own.  He watched the flames lick closer as he redoubled his efforts…

32. Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

    #392

    The Tower
    
    After determining the door to be safe, Vee gave it a gentle tug. It was closed. Keykold remembered another childhood pal, just then, as he removed his “utensils” from his vest pocket. Utensils is what Montaph Eruyl, had called them…thieves tools, encased in a fine moleskin cloth. Eruyl had taught Vee the less “noble” aspects of being an “adventuring” scholar and tomb-raider, he had taught him how to pick locks….yet another Nimzian to drop in on, Vee smiled, when he would finally find his way back to the fog-choked, City of Scholars.
    
    pick locks successful
    
    The green-stained, bronze lock on the foot-thick oaken door, clicked gently, and Vee was on the threshold. Before him lay the room of this supposed “wizard” that Vee had been hearing about. For a moment, Vee tensed, he had heard a great echoing yell (Grilgrull) from courtyard below, but quickly realized there was nothing he could do about whatever that was at the moment, and returned to surveying the bed chamber before him.
    
    What once was an austere and frugal, monk’s room, now reeked of bourgeois charm, as well as citrus and lavender. Four graying brick walls were transformed. Two walls, in an ‘L’ were lined with statues of glass, three, and four foot angels, from the looks on their cherubic faces, in various poses of innocence. The craftsmanship was superb, Keykold thought as he paused to admire them. The third wall was somewhat sparse, but featured several garish, glass candelabras, and further along a window, the shutters flapping open, allowing the wind to screech and howl. The fourth wall featured a massive oil painting of some noble seeming personage, a handsome man in the flower of his prime, his eyes boring down on Vee even as he looked upon the face. The look on the man’s face was full of hubris and epicurean cynicism. A vanity portrait, the rogue confirmed to himself, it could be nothing else, certainly not a monk (!) Could this be the chamber of this wizard? Vee hesitated as he pondered that point.
    
    The rest of the room was dominated by an armoire or wardrobe, this no doubt imported from Cazulun, all brass knobs and obsidian handles on smoothest mahogany. Next to this contraption was a large bed, or more like two three monks cots combined to imitate luxury. Brilliant blue and red feathers poked out from the richly embroidered down blanket. A half-empty bottle of wine stuffed with a little glass fist-cork, lay on the sheet.
    
    A very small chest with scarves, furs, and semi-precious baubles, sat upon the armoire, while obscene shaped, silver-gilt mirror rose three feet from the cabinet, appearing as an unmentionable part of the human anatomy.
    
    Suddenly Vee froze again, he now heard voices drawing closer, coming from the winding stone staircase.
    
    hear noise successful
    
    “I am loved and cursed and loved again, and I in turn love twice, but once, dear Donovan. There is a riddle for your next performance, troubadour.” Lazanne was beginning to slur her words now, as Donovan supported her on his shoulder, ascending the stair stoically, humming and mumbling as he did, studying the lascivious young maiden he was now escorting back to the upper chambers of the master…Alzamus.
    
    Vee did not quite hear what Donovan answered in turn, but soon the pair’s footsteps were on the other side of the door.
    
    Suddenly Vee heard a thump, as if a body had slumped on the cold, hard stone.
    
    That was indeed the case, as Lazanne gently folded into Donovan’s arms, then slid unsupported to the floor.
    
    The bard considered his next move. It was so difficult to plot against the wizard, he was after all a kind, genuine master.
    

33. Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

    #393

    Vee froze, listening to the snippets of conversation he had heard. There was certainly valuable things here, but nothing had jumped out at him as being of sublime importance. He moved closer to the door, his hand easing down to the worn handle of his crossbow, perhaps this was the bard who wrote the note...
    
    "If you wish to be free," Vee said loud enough to be heard on the other side of the door, "Open the door and enter slowly."
    
    

34. Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

    #394

    (OOC: Okay, I slept and a couple of turns sped past. I will catch up in this post. First I post the actions in the previous round, then I post the actions of this round. I see from the shoutbox that Talia made her healing, so I guess she won't be attacking during round two... Phew!)
    
    "MY EAR! MY EAR! You thrice cursed savage!" Alzamus bellowed, his face flushed with rage, contorted into a mask of anger.
    
    "Ogre! I fear your friends have gone mad! I fear they have utterly lost their mind! Bring the bound one to safety! Get him into the tower and safety! If your friends follow, knock them out for I fear they misunderstand my intentions! We need to get them to talk!"
    
    His voice shifted becoming a deep baritone chant. "Anarion Anaouwin" he said, and with that he faded from sight. Moments later his voice sounded again, more distant this time. "Haelfarn Alzamus Sinsinial" there was fury in every sentence. For some reason his incantation sent a chill up the spine of those who listened.
    
    (OOC: Spell description sent to Muro)

35. Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

    #395

    Poor child Donovan thought. Lazanne continued her nonsensical babbling for a few moments as he struggled to support her on the stairs. Nearing the top of the stairs she began to fade into unconsciousness.
    “Quiet now child and sleep” Donovan whispered “all will be well, I promise.”
    Standing a mere foot from the door Lazanne finally succumbed to the full strength of the herbs, falling limply from Donovan’s arms to the floor.
    
    Damn my luck! This is going all wrong. I should be downstairs…
    The mage had told him to care for the girl and keep her safe. He was doing as he was told. Exactly as he should…
    But why should I? This man is no kin nor friend to me!
    A sickening feeling swept over him as he remembered his face covered in blood and the old wizard speaking to him.
    That old bastard! He cast a spell on me!
    Donovan stood in front of the door looking down at the pregnant girl. He felt pity for her.
    “Well” he mumbled “a gentleman I am and a gentleman I shall be…” He leaned down to lift the girl as a voice came from the other side of the door. Free? 
    
    Quickly lifting the girl he opened the door slowly and stepped through.
    
    “Myr s’doo yn feagh yiow eh sheshey” he said clearly as he stepped into the room. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to set this down.” He moved slowly towards the bed without looking for the source of the voice and placing the girl down carefully.
    
    Turning and seeing a crossbow leveled at his chest he was inclined to speak again.
    “I care not for what you do to me, I only ask that you spare the girl…she is innocent in this.” Donovan held his arms out to his sides indicating he was unarmed. “If it is freedom you offer I would take it. I ask only that I might retrieve my belongings from” his face began to contort, the words straining as they passed his lips.
    “I…cannot…betray…the…” a single tear rolled slowly down his cheek as his features softened again “good master Alzamus.”
    
    With a defeated look in his eyes he sat down heavily on the edge of the bed, his will failing him. The spell still held him firm.
    “Cha nee eshyn ta red beg echey ta boght. Agh eshyn to geearree smoo” he looked up slowly at the stranger "you have no idea of the fate which has befallen me."

36. Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

    #396

    Aethelstan bent down, his skilled hands probing the extent and severity of hapless Tirron’s injuries.  As he quickly worked to heal the battered monastic, his hoarse, dead voice spoke softly.  “Fear not this loathly guise, brother!  The Lord of Justice has called me to this place to bring you succour.  Here the dead may yet achieve what the living have not.”
    
    The stunned monk at his feet stirred vaguely at the comforting words, still groggy from his injuries.  Sprawled across the mangled body of one of his brethren, Tirron began to shake his head, unable to clearly make out what was around him, and unwilling to believe what little he could make out. 
    
    “Allow me to aid thee,” said Aethelstan as his cold hands grasped the man’s arms.  The revenant struggled to lift his surviving brother.  “The blasphemers that struck this place have turned the chapel of holy Andur into an abattoir!  Rise, little brother, for we have been chosen as the vessels of Judgment!  Our voices must speak for those who have been cast into silence!  Our hands must act for those whose hands have been stilled!”
    
    Tirron slowly awakened, to find himself faced with horror beyond anything he had ever imagined.  Everywhere he looked, he saw another nightmarish image of terror.  He tried to step back from the lifeless travesty of a priest standing before him, its eyes hidden behind mirrored lenses that had seemingly adhered to its face.   As he moved, he realized that he was surrounded by the dead!  A gore spattered figure, its eye socket an empty, oozing horror, limped nearer, grasping a blood-covered ice pick or spike.  Another figure stood nearby, its woolen robes encrusted with slime and blood.  Even worse, familiar figures surrounded him, his friends and brothers, lying in the chapel, laid out in the repose of death.  Overcome by terror and shock beyond anything he had ever experienced, the monk’s mouth hung open in horror.  His hands crept toward his mouth, twitching as if he were trying to fend off blows from an unseen foe as his voice rose in a wordless moan of utter agony.
    
    “I understand thy anguish, brother, but we have no time!  Thy hands must aid us in this!” Aethelstan assured the horrified man as he drew his mace and held it forth.  “I may appear a creature of death, yet I have come to wield the sword of Andur!  Join us, that we may purge this place of the abominations that have defiled it!”
    
    (OOC: Out through the choir loft we go!  Hopefully, the panic-stricken Tirron will be swayed to swell our numbers!)

37. Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

    #397

    Still holding his finger against the trigger of the crossbow, Vee watched the bard as he deposited his lady friend on the bed. "I give my means of entrance away, but did you not write that there was not one soul worthy of salvation in this place other than yourself?" Vee asked as he pushed the door closed behind him. No need anyone coming in on them unannounced. For an extra touch he locked the door back. (Assuming there is a latch to lock it and it isn't some sort of medieval double tumbler)
    
    "I mean no harm to your Good Master," Vee said, seeing the effects of magical compulsion on the face of the young man. He knew a youth at Nimz who had picked up a touch of sorcery, enough to force his will on the unsuspecting. He ususually picked young women to charm. Vee had not felt a shred or pity when the city guard arrested him and he was sentanced to 30 years hard labor for his misdeeds. "I'm looking for a man, Professor Agaroy Zelmundt of Nimz. He is an older man, with salt and pepper hair, a scar across his forehead, and he walks with a bit of a limp."
    
    "My information lead me here, but I am not above helping those who are in need of assistance." Vee said. Even implying any sort of confrontation with the 'Good Master' would likely cause the bard to launch into some pre-programmed action, like alerting the wizard to attacking Vee with anything at hand.

38. Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

    #398

    “To be honest, good sir, I have no idea where your learned friend may be.”
    Donovan placed his hands on his knees, leaning forward. “If he dared cross my Master he is long cold and grave-rotted. My Master tolerates little from those who would speak against him.”
    He turned his head to look at Lazanne once again, sadness and remorse both apparent on his face. “As for my protectiveness for the girl, her current state is my doing.”
    Donovan turned to face the stranger once again with an ironic smile on his lips. “I have found she is the only thing innocent here.”
    
    He stood up and faced the stranger, this time moving close until the bolt in the crossbow pressed into his chest. “You need not fear me, I am no threat unless you harm the girl. My Master would see you though, I’m sure. He enjoys visitors. He is downstairs in the feast hall” he slowly stepped back, motioning to the door “I believe your friends have already arrived.”
    
    Spying his letter peeking out from the stranger’s belt, tears began to fill his eyes. His mind was blurred. His longing for freedom was not nearly as important as caring for the girl. He knew he could not let Alzamus down.
    He is a good friend, and a patron of the highest caliber. He is to be respected, if not exalted. This man will see this…everyone will. His mind sounded loud and hollow to him.
    
    Still holding out his hand to the door he drew out a small flask from his belt. “I see you have brought no gift for the Master Alzamus. Take this…it is strong spirits. I haven’t anything else to offer, but it is impolite to arrive for dinner without a gift” Donovan held the flask out between two fingers “and you do not want to insult the great Alzamus. He is not fond of rudeness, and takes insult poorly.”
    
    Donovan held the flask out, praying silently to himself. His tongue was an enemy to him, and he knew it. So was his mind, as far as he could tell. Thus far the only person his soul knew to trust was the stranger holding a weapon on him.
    He hoped his message had made it through to the stranger, his will was dwindling fast.
    
    
    

39. Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

    #399

    Confusion in the Burning Hall
    
    Once more Alzamus barked his orders, perturbed most of all at the annoying half-ogre who had not only returned, but was now helping some bound, gagged, and webbed companion to his feet. Two words in a language no one could understand, and Alzamus was gone, vanished into thin air. Whether the ubiquitous Poof of Smoke accompanied the wizard’s disappearance was impossible to tell, in the roiling smoke from the burning webs.
    
    Kadarin was watching the wizard however, and when he vanished, Kadarin yelled to his companions, alerting them to the possibility that Alzamus had not teleported but was merely unseen. Truth be told, Kadarin had no way of knowing.
    
    Mouse was stabilized, as Talia had pulled the crossbow bolt free, in one quick, but brutal tug, and stuffed the open wound with bandages from her haversack.
    
    Mazoma finally stopped screaming mercifully. The woman just burned now silently. For his part, Galod went down without a scream, shocking as that may have seemed to the companions who looked on the scene in horror. The crossbowman burned…and that was that. No eulogies, no histrionics, no fanfare. Galod simply burned to a crisp.
    
    And so would Dujek have burned, if it had not been for the quick thinking (heh!) Vorodon. The half-ogre had ripped the cocoon of Dujek from the burning webs and had dragged him away from the inferno, ripping and tearing at the necromancer’s bindings, and removing the black rubber ball, which was keeping Dujek from speaking.
    
    "Ogre! I fear your friends have gone mad! I fear they have utterly lost their mind! Bring the bound one to safety! Get him into the tower and safety! If your friends follow, knock them out for I fear they misunderstand my intentions! We need to get them to talk!"
    
    Then the command came again. Though not a command really, Vorodon thought hazily, a viable and good suggestion! Let us go upstairs the half-ogre thought suddenly. That was the smart thing to do! This Alzamus wasn’t half bad! Yes, bring the bound one to safety, that made sense, Voro thought. Yes, we should all talk, talking was good, not as painful as fighting! It was quite obvious to the half-ogre that across the licking flames, Aerex, Talia, and Kadarin had murderous intentions. They had misunderstood the benevolent Alzamus! I should get upstairs with Dujek, Vorodon finally concluded his scrambled thought process.
    
    
    It was then, all hell broke loose.
    
    Confusion spell results:
    
    --Talia begins babbling incoherently, like an insane person. She repeats over and over again, a nursery rhyme from her youth about a randy white goat and the princess who rode him. Over and over again, she felt the need to repeat the rhyme until it sounded perfect, which it wasn’t doing so far. No matter, she thought, everything else could wait; she HAD to get the rhyme right first!
    
    --Aerex notches another arrow and is about to fire when he hesitates and slowly swivels the short bow, until it points at Talia. She loves Keykold more, the inspector suddenly thought. She loved…him…more. A silent, building rage crept into Aerex head, she did not love him. Perhaps she should love no one then. She would be better off dead, than ruining her life with that amoral Nimzian. He would do her a favor. She would thank him, he reasoned, if they ever again met as ghosts.
    
    Aerex fires a bolt at Talia and hits for 3 points of damage. Worse, he now reloads…
    
    --Kadarin chooses to do nothing. Nothing, no more and no less. Instead of acting, Kadarin stares lovingly at the now slowly ebbing flames burning and crackling through his pretty webs.
    
    Dujek and Vorodon were out of range of the spell.
    
    Aerex, Talia, and Kadarin cant post at the moment. Well, they can, but only if they indulge in their forced confusion.  :P
    

40. Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

    #400

    Alzamus was obviously wrong, calling his friends insane!  Vorodon tried to explain as he dragged Dujek from the fiery webs and tore his restraints off.  “No, Masterr Alzamus!  They alweay like that!  Friends make for fight overer and overer!  Not in saeen, violent!”  He could tell that the wizard wasn’t really listening, however, as the man vanished from sight!  His advice seemed sound, however, and Vorodon headed for the exit with the pale necromancer.
    
    Just then he saw something that made his blood run cold!  His friend, the Insecter, shot Talia as she stood next to him, babbling some strange rhyme!  They really had gone mad!
    
    “Dujek!  Come help!  Masterr Alzamus right!”  he shouted, as he ran to stop them.

Adventurers-Upon-Return · All categories · Guildhall