Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II) — Legacy Forums

Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

#81

painpainpainPainPainPainPAINPAINPAINPAINPAINPAIN!!! Every nerve ending in Tristan's body screamed in everlasting torment from the lightning bolt summoned from Kadarin's wand, his skin burnt and blistering from the heat. A pale shadow of the torments endured by the forever-lost, the agony of the assault was nearly unbearable, so much so that speaking was yet another lover's touch of livid torture.

"...s'not me...catch him..."

Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

#82

His eyes might deceive him, but there was one thing the Volgottir knew better than anyone: That foul stench wasn’t the smell of wholesome cooked human flesh! The Thing that mocked his new ally’s shape was some sort of deceiving demon or uncanny spirit, not a human double!

The enraged warrior drove forward like a juggernaut, clutching the haft of his weapon across his body with both hands. As his new friend, the Insecter, leapt forward to tackle the unnatural thing, he slammed his axe’s haft across the creature’s abdomen with all of his body’s power, forcing the travesty away from its magical portal, driving it backwards toward the room’s gaping actual window.

“Had are good Trii!” he joked incomprehensibly as he drove the thing toward the gaping aperture.

(OOC: That would be "Have a good trip!" if anyone other than Voro were saying it.)

Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

#83

And despite the repulsive smell of scorched flesh and the wailing of electrocuted doppleganger and the thunderous bellowing of the Volgottir, naught could stir the usually spry Vee Keykold from his daring redoubt half under a bench and half under one of the tables in the common room of the Kettle. There would be hell and a half to pay tomorrow for the bottles of wine drunk, but despite the vague sensation of having the top of his head removed by vindictive pint sized yard goblins, he would endure the pain and smile.

The the boisterous Adventurer-Upon-Return, or member of the Band of the Treasured Chests was at the moment quite warm and comfortable. His cloak made for a thin pallet on the floor, but the warm body nuzzled against him was quite a reprieve.

(OOC - sorry, it's late, and Vee was previously mentioned as being passed out drunk.)

Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

#84

Even as his eyes recovered from the blinding flash, Kadarin was stunned by what he saw. By the gods, No! dispaired Kadarin.I only meant to get the imposter! Another part of his mind said Well, that's chaos for you!.

Kadarin then was filled with panic as the false Tristan DEMON kept coming for him. Amazingly, the creature only made a half-hearted attack as he bypassed the shaken mage and headed for a new, enchanted portal that appeared on the wall.

Suddenly the door burst open and many members new figures entered the fray. Too many in the way, thought Kadarin. I better see to Tristan - it's my fault he's hurt!

Moving to the table of items that he and Dujek had recently worked over, Kadarin picked up the vial of healing draughts and brought them over to the striken cleric. Hopefully he'll get enough strength to heal himself.

An odd thought struck him as he moved over to the real Tristan: I wonder what a Demon would have against a Necromancer?

Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

#85

Jagged yellow fangs stretched against his leathery black lips, as the wolf-man twisted his deformed muzzle in a twisted effort at a smile.

So Jjuldae does not flee up the stairs to assist his out-lander friends with whatever peril that has chosen to befall them. Does his cowardice once again prevent him from doing the noble thing? Or has he finally realized the futility of evading my vengeance? Perhaps he hopes to beg me to spare his life, or failing that, at least grant him the mercy of a quick death. If so, he is as much a fool as a traitor, for I can find none for him in this savage heart of mine. The wails of the dead choke my ears, and it is justice they demand. Only when his lingering screams are unleashed, can they ever find peace. Let Jujuulde breathe his last foul gasp, for this is the moment when my fangs shall rend his unworthy throat.

Uttering a single a blood-curdling howl of long repressed hatred and fury, the beast smashed through the window of the Leaky Kettle with its hulking frame, sending a cloud of ragged glass fragments flying in the direction of the still seated druid.

''It's been a long time, Jjuldae. But tell me, tribe-murderer, do your memories of me yet remain fresh? ''

Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

#86

The druid rose slowly, his movements restrained and stiff. He opened his mouth to speak, but his throat choked shut like a fist closing, his words only a dry rattle. He had long awaited this vengeance for his cowardice. The punishments of the Old Ones were mortal- the Old Ways taught that as beasts in a world of things, there is only one life which any living thing has to live; afterlives were a concept of weak and cowardly settled folk, worshipping lying usurper gods.

Withered, horripilated, white and silvery like lightning; its jagged bones formed a vicious geometry of grim and impartial divine retribution. The White Wolf, The Thing Of The Cave of Teeth, the Great One's Dawn Assassin. Jjuldae had long considered which instrument the Old Ones would choose to employ in their ancient justice.
The brotherhood's knowledge knew many alastors such as these used by the Old Ones, to punish crimes known, unknown, or unknowable (so many beyond mortal ken- even the druids could not understand some laws of the Old Ways); some such punishers the druids did not know, or wish to know, so terrible indeed were their countenances. But this was no time for such thought.
What you have learned of a thing rarely meets its reality without being wounded in the fight, like a settled-man's dog trying to fight the wolf of the wilds.

"I have petitioned the Unnameable Ones with my cries," Jjuldae began, finding his voice; he knew this justice would not be averted. "Can not my sentence be commuted? I am pious in the Old Ways, and my deeds may yet evoke the remembrance of them."

The creature stared, its gnarled maw and mummified gums snarling in perpetual promise of danger. Jjuldae stoically lifted his cup, taking a gulp of the pungent herb beverage. The Old Ways were clear- a druid must face his death without trembling. But in his heart of hearts, the Crimson Throated one felt a voiceless incantation tingle open fearsomely. The Old Ways were clear- a druid must never submit until he fights.

Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

#87

Downstairs

--Jjuldae rose, no hint of emotion betraying his vulture eyes, and spoke to the abomination before him. Assailed by the White Wolf in this stinking, innocuous hovel, the druid thought ruefully.

The few patrons who were still in the taproom fled through the door outside or up the staircase, when the silver and milk-white beast burst through the window, shattered glass and splintered wood flying in all directions. The creature, all muscle, teeth, and sinew, spoke to the druid in a low, penetrating growl, ignoring all else around it.

A duel, the likes of which Blodrus the Lame had never seen before, and one he did not care to witness now. The portly innkeeper, the “lucky” inheritor of the Harpy’s Kettle, dragged his lame leg across the taproom floor, as swiftly as he could and beat a hasty retreat along with the other regulars.

“Mrrmmf”, came a noise not far from the warming ox pit. After several hours, the comely wench keeping Keykold warm in turn, rolled off, waking suddenly from the commotion, in the process inadvertently waking Vee from a near comatose slumber on the inn floor. The rogue stirred and groaned.

A lone voice, another drunkard, didn’t move from his seat, a mere twenty feet from the druid and the lycanthrope, but kept right on drinking, tankard in hand, his eyes sagging and tearing.

“Oy! Back to tha Freakshow with ya! Both of ya!” he announced nonplussed at the terrifying and seething beast and the face-painted, bird-like robed man.

--Outside, Glordren could not believe his eyes a second time in under a minute. As if the gruesome goings on upstairs weren’t enough, and they had to be gruesome judging by the immeasurable cries of pain above, the dwarf now gaped anew as a snarling, snow-white swirl of flesh and fur, plunged headlong into the ground-level window of the inn, coming seemingly out of nowhere, smashing its way inside, oblivious to the consequences. Shouting and screaming patrons pored out the inn doors and rushing past the momentarily bewildered dwarven priest, heralded the abomination’s arrival.

--As Jjuldae awaited the creature’s response he thought once more of the Old Ways, of the customs and traditions of the Stone Soul people. He could not channel the powers of the Old Ones now, nor use his own brand of magicks, if challenged by one of the Great One’s Assassins. Not according to the tenets of the Test of Tooth and Nail. That was the tradition.

Tooth and Nail; the druids who followed the Old Ways had held this ancient rite of combat and passage in high regard. In the Old Days, even when a druid ascended beyond a certain point in personal power, he or she would have to face the Test of Tooth and Nail, before receiving their respective and recognized, hierophantic rank. A mortal combat, usually between two aspiring druids, but sometimes, rare individuals would have to go up against an unnatural beast, using nothing except their natural “gifts”, their bodies. To cast Druidic magic during one of these “Judgments” would be considered highly taboo among the Peoples of the Stone Soul. The strong thrived, the mewling survived, that was the Old Way.

This would be one of those times, Jjuldae thought unafraid but accepting of his own probable demise. The creature would fight with Tooth and Nail, of that Jjuldae had no doubt, but the “natural gifts” of the lycanthrope were far superior to his own, he mused the obvious. A cruel test. So be it. Let it come. He had little choice in the matter.

Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

#88

Upstairs

--“What deviltry this is sir! What deviltry this is!” came the shrill voice of a balding, paunchy, otherwise nondescript bar patron, who had ran up the stairs and burst through the first door he encountered, Moruz’ door, the one that didn’t quite lock. The Ouzquin Dremorix opened his eyes, roused from his bizarre dreamscape.

--Vorodon rushed across the room in an attempt to smash the scorched creature with enough force to change its trajectory and send it hurtling through the glass and wooden window a few feet from its shimmering portal. The half-ogre’s mighty swing missed the “thing” by mere inches, but Talia was quick enough, lacerating the creature’s back, only to watch a purplish glob of blood, pump from the imposter’s shoulder, as it proceeded toward its destination.

Dujek swung and missed with his cane, but nearly succeeded in tripping the onrushing Aerex.

Veitch had finally reached the dimension-door; he was free of this madness. The doppelganger had severely underestimated the caliber of its adversaries, and was now suffering from excruciating pain, the likes of which it had never felt before. But now he was through, and would soon be long gone.

Veitch felt the additional pain of the Bladedancer’s steel fan slicing across his back. The throbbing ache of his charred flesh was not considerate enough to suppress the newer sensation from assaulting his nerve endings. Veitch cursed and flung himself through his escape portal. Suddenly, he felt a forward push, and an additional weight grasping his lower body.

A split second before Talia had managed to tear flesh, the courageous inspector tackled the creature’s thighs, and unable to stop its desperate dash, hurtled through the portal of energy, which was now beginning to fade in and out of existence, along with Veitch, still “disguised” as the thoroughly scorched Tristan, and most of all still, screaming in anguish and fury.

The “Insecter” was in some trouble now.

--Kadarin tended to Tristan as best he could, helping the priest imbibe the healing draught. Mouse crawled out from under the bed. Koschei appeared and scurried across the floor to reunite with Dujek. For a moment all was quiet, but then a loud crash sounded downstairs, followed by screams.

--Vorodon gazed through the regular window, unsure of how the “magical window” worked, but hoping that the pair would logically appear somewhere outside. The half-ogre’s eyes widened when he saw a brief shimmer materialize in the night air, forty or so feet away from the Kettle, down a long, narrow alley. Hurtling through this “exit” portal came two “Insecters”, one burned to a crisp. Each struggled to rise, and for a moment the two Insecters stared at one another.

--Glordren could see the dimension door as well, as he briefly turned from the bizarre scene unfolding before him and looked down the darkened alley. Like Vorodon, the dwarven priest’s night-vision gave him the advantage. He now could see two identical figures, forty feet away, which both more than resembled the affable sabre-wielding Aerex Matare. But a mere ten feet from the dwarf was the inn, and the savage monstrosity that had burst through the ground floor window seconds earlier, amid a hail of glass, was within. Glordren had to choose, and choose quickly.

Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

#89

Once roused, Moruz was quick to regain full consciousness and sprung out of bed, one hand reaching for the Ouzala which rested on the wall next to him, and the other snagging his circlet (with a sense of relief, after the disturbing dreams) and sliding it on his head. He stared quizzically at the intruder, "Devilt... what? What do you...?" At that moment Moruz heard a scream from downstairs; something was wrong. The glass shifter nudged his way past the balding inn patron and ran for the stairs, unaware that half his companions were in a room just three doors down. Moruz paused at the top of the staircase and stared down in bewilderment at the scene; Vee and an unknown woman lying on the floor, a drunkard sitting and calmly guzzling mead or some other such crude outsider beverage, and most importantly, Jjuldae and a Hideous mass of fur and flesh giving each other deathly cold stares. Glass and wood was strewn across the floor, and where one of the taverns windows was, a gaping hole now stood. Moruz clasped his weapon in both hands and leapt down the stairs.

Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

#90

Aerex blinked, his baffled mind attempting to reassure him that his eyes were fooled. It was one thing to see two Tristans fighting each other; it was quite another to face one's self, even only in image. There was little time to observe the psychological intracacies of it all, however. The doppelganger looked very unhappy. Combat traning took over, and Aerex expertly executed a lunging thrust with his dagger aimed at the creature's throat.

Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

#91

''Tooth and Nail'' the beast intoned in its intense growl ''for that is what the Old Ones have decreed, false druid. Not even your natural instinct for treachery can save you now, for the wrath of the Old Ones will not permit your cowardice to lead you into breaking the oaths you swore to uphold. Face your death Jjuldae, for it has come in my form''.

Lunging faster than the mortal eye could follow, the White Wolf was upon the druid in a sudden flash of snarling fur and muscle, its massive frame slamming into the man with terrifying power, sending him crashing to the rough floor with a resounding shatter as the wood splintered beneath the impact of its ferocious attack. Its yellow eyes glimmering with the pale light of bestial joy, it seized the right arm of its victim in the brutal, crushing embrace of its massive jaws and begun to yank at it, the wolf's massive jaw muscles ripping at the unfortunate man's flesh as its punishing maw begun to rip the arm right out of his socket. It would have been a simpler matter for the White Wolf to sink its fangs into the traitor druid's exposed throat, but that would ended in a quick death, delivering a mercy that Jjuldae had done nothing to earn.

Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

#92

Vee stirred from his artificially induced slumber, he took a pained moment to absorb the situation. The vulture-ish druid seemed to be staring down a mummified werewolf that seemed to be immune to using doors. It seemed like smashing up the Kettle was a very popular pastime in the sleepy little burg of Ganse. Moving as slowly as possible, so as to not attract attention, Vee drew himself up behind some cover and prepared his crossbow. There was no telling what sort of sticks and herbs the druid might throw at the abomination, but Vee wasn't adverse to letting a few sticks of his own fly.

(OOC - hide in shadows, shoot the wolf-man before he makes Juju into the One-winged Vulture)

Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

#93

The omnious sound of a cross-bow being drawn did not escape the vulpine's razor keen ears, cutting through the frenzied mist of animalistic hunger that had gripped the Wolf. One of the outlanders had awakened from a decpetive state of alcohol induced slumber to level a weapon at his back.

Things had not worked out as he had hoped, for appearantly not all of the druid's company had been drawn by the commotion taking place outside. And now he would have to kill someone else before Jjuldae would sate the jaws of vengeance with his flesh. The Old Ones were testing him once again to determine his worthiness to be the tool of their vengeance, and he would not dissapoint.

With the abrupt swiftness that only a predator of the wilderness can possess, he relased his ravenous hold on the the druid's arm and launched himself at his would-be ambusher in a single giant bound, slashing with one massive paw to sweep aside the weapon clenched in the hands of the one eager to put a bolt in him.

Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

#94

>
Moruz was only halfway down the stairs when the wulfen creature leapt at Jjuldae, then straight to Vee in a quick succession - it was so fast! Finally, Moruz hit the bottom floor and released his Ouzala, letting it fall to the floor with a light 'tinkle', before snatching the silver-flecked sickle from his belt loop. His feet navigating the wood and glass on the floor, Moruz charged the beast and swung the sickle savagely at the lupine beast. Moruz felt the satisfaction of the resistance of flesh as the blade of his small weapon tore through the upper-thigh of its victim. Having seen the speed of this beast however, Moruz was quick to withdraw the small weapon and dart back to give some space. He already knew this battle would not be easy.

Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

#95

Jjuldae hissed in pain, his arm, fleshed to the bone, pouring blood forth from vicious gashes. He could not move it- it hung limply at his side like a broken tree-limb, slapping stupidly against his thigh.
He could feel blood seeping into his robes, making them heavy with his vital moisture. All around him was a blur- howls, bellows, running boot-thumps and the sound of swooping steel.

Tooth and Nail had been invoked. He must complete his geasa, he must fight the White Wolf, or be damned with a further burden of cowardice. He focused on the pain, made it the center of his universe, until it vanished into a background hum. He took his spear to his hand, and with a deep bellow, leapt toward the hideous white creature, sweeping his arm in a brutal arc.

Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

#96

Talia almost lost her balance as Aerex knocked the doppleganger away... straight into the portal. She froze for an instant. Glowing portals were *not* something she felt safe entering. They smacked of the spirit realm to her, and the spirits generally took a dim view of mortals infringing on their territory.

"Spirits are everywhere, little one. We exist peacefully with them most of the time; we mind our own business, and they mind theirs. Sometimes, spirits stop attending to their duties, or start misbehaving. But they can be easily disciplined, if you know how."
"You mean magic?"
"Some call it that. I've seen some magnificent things... I watched a man call up storm spirits into a three day storm. If you know the way, spirits can do much for you. As long as they are in our world, we are their masters."
"What about their world? Can we go there, granpapa?"
"Yes, we can. But you must never do that. In their realm, the spirits are the more powerful, and they are chaotic and can be harsh. They could kill you."

She shouldn't tempt the spirits; she didn't even know how to control them in this world, where they were weaker. But she'd grown to think of Aerex as a friend, and the spirits aside, there was the doppleganger... Where was the line between courage and common sense? In the end, it didn't matter, because Talia lunged through the portal after Aerex before she had a chance to think about it too much.

Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

#97

"Decisions, decisions! Can't they come one after another so I can bash both?" As the dark-skinned dancer leapt through the swiftly fading disc of energy, the decision was clear in Glordren's mind: the two can handle a charred foe, right?

Without a battle cry nor warning, he rushed through the door the wolf-man so kindly made... the Gleaming Lady be praised! It faced Vee, focused on its prey.

Pumping heftlily with his iron-shod feet, Glordren propelled himself forward, becoming a boulder of metal, with the sole pupose of battering down the man-wolf. Big it may be, but its bulky chest does not add to its stability! Glordren knew well: the taller they are, the faster they fall. Just try ramming one of the girly elves, and descend he will from his aloof height, do face the soles of your feet.

Once it was on the floor, the dwarf would seat himself on the... thing and bash it where he could: let us see how well it can rise with 250 pounds of honest dwarf on its back.

Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

#98

Tohl! Tohl mak Hamantz! ("d**n! d**n this 'human place'!") the Half-Ogre swore savagely in his ancestors' tongue as his foe dodged his grasp. He had been certain that the thing would fall before his wrath and now it had fled to the safety of the alley! He began to draw the most true of the darts he carried, for he could not afford to be wrong again, not with the Insecter struggling against the travesty blade-to-blade. Before he could cast his missile, however, he heard a crash from below, a savage cry as of some primitive beast in battle!

"Maegla!" he cried, frightened for the helpless woman he had brought to this place of battle. He turned and ran to the stair, hurling himself down them a flight at a time. He had sworn his protection upon his friend's blind beloved, and he would fulfill his charge, or die trying.

(OOC: Dart in one hand, Axe in the other: Heave the dart if practical, cause... It's clobberin' time!)

Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

#99

Aerex and the doppleganger tumbled through the portal, and Talia slipped through after. Meanwhile the crazed half-ogre screamed something in it's harsh tounge, and then what sounded like a name, turned and ran down the stairs, into what sounded like a fight with some sort of demonic wolf below. Charging down the stairs after him Dujek came upon a scene of utter chaos, with 4 people already attacking some sort of werewolf, already half-dead by the looks of it.

Calm Dujek, only fools go charging in without thinking. It's too fast for you, and your friends too if you're not lucky. Take away its speed and it will fall.

Muttering under his breathe as he bent his wrists back as far as the would go, then channeling his powers into the spell to bend them more, until the sound of bones grating upon eachother came to his ears. Focusing on the beast he sought to lock up its joints as his wrists were locking up now.

OOC: Thats that sobering skeletal stillness that I sent you bossman.

Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

#100

Not a healer, Kadarin figured the potion was the best that he could do under the cirumstances. That done, he turned his attention to what was happening now. The various party members had either charged downstairs or went through the magical portal. I've got to learn that spell.

First a quick look around the room to see if anything was smoldering from the lightning bolt, Thank the Gods it was not a Fireball! shuddered Kadarin. In the future, avoid using wand in close quarters..., then Kadarin moved to carefully see what was going on downstairs.

Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

#101

The Crimson Throat's thrust was true, and a leaf of silver-inlaid bronze stabbed through hideous assassin's upper shoulder. A great burst of multicolored ichor, filled with nauseating chunks of congealed rotten blood, splattered out upon the wooden floor; the close, dense air was filled with the sickly-sweet stench of putrefying flesh.

"Tooth and nail!" Jjuldae cried, in the strange, alien syllables of the secret druid tongue.

Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

#102

A massive roar shook the flimsy walls of the rickety inn as the White Wolf found itself assailed by from different points by the other members of the druid's party, each point of assault hammered into its decaying body with ruthless force as the adventurers converged on it with the savage anticipation of a wolf pack eager to bring down the prey with its combined efforts. First the slash in its upper-thigh that caused it to falter in its bound mid-way and collapse to the floor in a snarling mass of fur, and then the vicious spear-thrust from behind. Driven by the fear of imminent death, Jjuldae had recovered enough of his strength to and retaliate with a hefty stab into its right shoulder. Unleashing an eerie howl as its rotting flesh was ripped free of its white shoulder, the beast's raging fury drew strength from the agony coursing through its bleeding frame like a river of fire. As the traitor screamed aloud in the language his tainted tongue was not fit to speak, the White Wolf realized in a fleeting moment of clarity what it had to do.

''Scream then as they both rend your body from limb to limb!'' With a single fluid movement of its paw, the White Wolf grasped the shaft of the spear sticking incongrously out of its shoulder, and unleashed all its considerable strength onto the wooden haft directly above that cruel tip lodged in its flesh.

It was a clean snap as the wooden frame simply crumbled in the masssive paws of Jjuldae's assailant. Sturdy thought the spear had been , there was simply no haft in existence that could withstand the inhumane power of the White Wolf. But there was more to this creature that brute strength alone. Any beast of prey roaming the forest easily possesses strength and natural weapons that would by themsleves, be sufficient to fell most humans. But the White Wolf was more than a mere animal. Its crazed drive to kill and maim was agumented by the grim cunning that can exist only in the mind of a human hunter or warrior. As if to demonstrate the former identity the beast had once possessed, the paw clutching the broken spear haft lashed out at the druid's legs, striking at them with every ounce of strength the massive thews on the White Wolf could muster. Then, dropping its improvised weapon, it lunged with renewed vigour at the druid, its claws aiming straight for his face as it sought to drive them into his eyes.

Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

#103

The Harpy's Kettle

As the albino Wolf snapped Jjuldae’s spear with a loud crack, another projectile slammed into the beast’s flesh just beneath its shoulder. A thick dart, traveling at great speed, buried itself deep inside the Wolf. That wound went together with a thigh strike from some cursed, silver sickle, wielded by some silent, able warrior, who was now wisely back-pedaling.

It felt pain, but knew that soon the damage would heal. It felt no cursed, poisonous silver in the dart’s point, unlike the druid’s spear and the warrior’s sickle, which had sent waves of pain and nausea through the creature’s body.

Only seconds earlier, the creature had smashed the crossbow from Vee’s grip, and sent the rogue careening across the floor, albeit in a dexterous spin, landing Keykold safely against a far wall, for the moment. The rogue surveyed the chaotic blood sport.

For the time being, the White Wolf returned its glare to Jjuldae, though it noticed the huge behemoth that had buried his dart in its flesh. The half-ogre now whooped and hollered, seemingly deciding between another steel dart, and the gruesome axe in its other meaty paw. No fear that one, the White Wolf allowed himself to muse.

Vorodon’s eyes searched the taproom for Maegla as he prepared to attack this raging beast once more. He spied the blind woman. She was hiding beneath a table not far from Vee, who was $%@#ing his crossbow once more, after retrieving the unbroken weapon from the spot on the floor, where it had landed, after the White Wolf sent it, and Vee, sprawling. Maegla was safe, Vorodon ascertained, and turned towards the abomination once more.

Kadarin made his way down the stairs and arrived just in time to notice the somewhat recovered Dujek, twisting his hands and wrists in passionate animation, while chanting gruesome words of Arcana.

The White Wolf suddenly felt its own joints and bones begin to lock up. What was this treacherous sorcery, it thought, the accursed druid had too many friends! But no matter it snarled, the Old Ones had given it this opportunity at retribution, and would protect their assassin from harm, at least long enough for the self-proclaimed, “Last Scion” to destroy the traitor.

The White Wolf lunged at Jjuldae once more, tearing bloody stripes across the druid’s thigh, then neck and face. The druid staggered and fell back. Momentarily, the White Wolf leered at the druid, savoring its upcoming deathblow. Jjuldae looked on defiantly, bleeding profusely from his shredded neck and face. His dark vulture-eyes still staring back at his nemesis.

As the abomination was about to tear the druid limb from limb, the charging Glordren came on like a runaway wagon, barreling directly into the monstrosity, while bellowing a dwarven battle cry at the top of his lungs. This one, haphazard attack, finally caught the beast by surprise, and both dwarf and werewolf collapsed from the charge, the dwarf ably positioning himself to mount the wolf. For a moment, the monster was down, sprawled on its back from the force of the tackle, pinned by the bulbous, but surprisingly nimble priest. Glordren reared his fearsome mace, as his rock-like knees momentarily pinned the lycanthrope's arms to the floor. Sitting astride its chest, the dwarf was about to mash the Wolf’s face!

For the first time since it had brazenly assaulted the druid, by smashing through the window of the Harpy’s Kettle, the Great One’s assassin felt a strange sensation…fear.

Though it was not aware of the doppelganger’s existence, like Veitch, the White Wolf had underestimated the druid’s new cadre of companions.

No matter, it thought again, as it struggled, bleeding from multiple wounds, pinned for the moment against the mass of the mailed dwarf, now sitting on its furry chest. Though it did not like the taste of dwarven flesh, it would now tear this meaty barrel to shreds. It would teach the Traitor’s allies a lesson. Ultimate victory would be HIS, the White Wolf thought. It had to be, for thus it was decreed. “Tooth and Nail” it intoned once more, through its bloody, slavering jaws. The beast looked up at Glordren and seethed, its thick, corded muscles, rippling beneath its milky, bloodstained fur. The dwarf would pay the price…then, Jjuldae would die.

As the creature was about to rend its claws through both mail and flesh, its limbs froze, defying the Master’s will. The beast felt its joints, tighten, its sinew congeal, and abruptly, its spine constrict. It was paralyzed, it realized in horror, its fur rising in fear!

Just then, all went black as the dwarf’s mace smashed bone and cartilage in a brutal downward strike. This too would heal, was the Lycanthrope’s last thought, before it spun into unconsciousness, there was no silver venom in the dwarf’s weapon.

“THRROOSH!” came the sound of Glordren’s mace once more, smashing the White Wolf’s snout into further pulp and paste, sending meat and blood in a tumultuous spray across the taproom. Glordren could feel no more resistance from the gory corpse.

Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

#104

Aerex, Aerex, and Talia.

Aerex lunged fearlessly, his blade hitting home, sinking into the already charred and softened flesh just below Veitch’s throat. The doppelganger Aerex gurgled up purplish blood, and turned to flee down the darkened, long, narrow alley.

For the first time that night, Veitch regretted killing that bounty hunter and not only taking on his identity, but foolishly, out of boredom, his mission as well.

Killing a necromancer sounded like fun, and then Veitch, still disguised as that bounty hunter--what was his name anyway--would return to Thorp Tareholt, and even get some coin from the ugly, pink-skinned peasants.

But now, Veitch felt his life force slipping away. And the pain, the pain was mind-numbing. Still, the doppelganger ran. After a few steps, Veitch even entertained the notion that he would escape successfully. All he had to do after all was outrun and out slink this short, brazen human, whose countenance Veitch had assumed and taken, while hurtling through its dimension door spell, the stubborn man, clinging to its waist.

Escape successfully Veitch would not however. A shearing steel fan sliced through the back and top of the doppelganger’s skull as it ran, and suddenly the creature felt itself falling forwards, with the peculiar sensation of cold air caressing its exposed brain tissue.

“My mother loved me”, Veitch thought as it died.

Aerex turned to see Talia had just stepped through the now vanishing and fluttering portal to join him in the twisted alleyway. The look on her face was one of resigned satisfaction, as the Bladedancer strode to retrieve her fan, which was now lodged in the fallen Veitch’s skull.

Aerex blinked and looked around. No one was about. Qil’Vanaros’ Endless Dream Journey was in full swing beneath the starry sky on the other side of the walls. Aerex could hear the sounds of mirth and detect the pungent smells coming from the carnival, and wafting through Ganse' empty streets. The celebration ringed the sorrowful town of Ganse, and was now entertaining its populace, leaving the town streets even more empty and forlorn than usual. That would explain where the cityguard were as well, Aerex reasoned, though he was sure, the escaping patrons of the Harpy’s Kettle would have soon run amok around the carnival grounds and delivered the latest news.

“Werewolves and Lightning Strike the Kettle!”

A slight night wind picked up and strained at the inspector’s hat. Aerex watched as the same breeze rifled through the warrior-maiden’s luxurious silver and platinum mane, as she bent to fetch her weapon from Veitch’s corpse.

Talia mumbled something about the creature’s shape-changing abilities proving useless after its face and body were charred by Kadarin’s terrifying magic. Aerex nodded. Even in the darkness she was beautiful, the inspector found himself thinking. Where did that come from?, he scolded himself.

But she was...beautiful that is, he thought again, even as she wrenched her steel fan from what was seemingly his own skull, he allowed himself a smile. Was that a bad omen?

Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

#105

Wow, I'm glad I'm not that creature though Kadarin as the dwarf literally beat the creatures's head to a pulp.

Remembering the discussions during his Alchemy training at the acadamy, Kadarin realized that there was an opportunity here. Werewolves were powerful figures in Alchemy - their ability to transform forms related to that most sought after secret of alchemy - that of transforming base metals to gold! Mercury and Fire, the Moon and Silver, thought Kadarin.

Walking over to take a look at the grotesque beast, he reached into his robe and brought out a small vial. Ignoring the aghast looks of some of the onlookers, he scooped up some of the beast's ichor into the vial. He then moved over to an undamaged table and used a candle to drip hot wax over the end of the vial. Just before the wax completely hardened, he sprinkled a tiny amount of powdered silver into the soft wax. That done, he secreted the vial back into one of the concealed pockets in his robe.

Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

#106

Thankfully the slavering beast was brought to a halt, the dwarf ending it's rampage with a skull destroying strike from his mace. The thing had certainly seemed confident in it's abilities and had shown no fear even when facing a large number of foes. Seeing a real werewolf now brought a certain level of recognition to the rogue, and Agion's Silver Clockwork Warbeast now showed it's source. Despite the hisses of steam, the ting and tick of cogs and springs, his design was a werewolf of k'tonian metal, silver, and steel. Clever, that one was.

Vee checked himself, no ribs broken, and it seemed that aside from the Kettle being ruined again, no one was walking through the final arch. That was always good. He chided himself for being foolish, expecting all foes to make certain mistakes, but then he remembered that he started the battle asleep under a table in a barroom. He would later have to find...whoever...was with him and make sure she was okay, it was the 'right' thing to do.

Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

#107

And as quickly as it had begun, it was over. The huge dwarf barreled into the werewolf and soon smashed it's head into a pulp, and before long, Kadarin had found his way next to the corpse and had scooped up a vial of goo. Moruz was not yet satisfied, however, and he stood next to the corpse, resting a boot on the side of it's smashed face to brace it, and he began the laborous task of hacking away at its tough, sinewy neck with his sickle. His expression would have been no different than if he was chopping away at tree roots with an axe, and when the moist 'thud' of the sickle was heard hitting the wooden floor beneath the flesh of the beast, Moruz rose and pushed the mushed head with his boot, rolling it several feet away to lay just before the dying coals of the fire; the gruesome visage of the half-crushed face of the wolf illuminated by the flickering light. Moruz turned his upper lip up in distate - not at the sight of the wolfman's corpse, but rather at the goo and blood covering his new sickle, his hand, and half his arm - not to mention the occasional splatter on the rest of his body.
Not a word was said to the others in the room of the motive of his actions, but Moruz knew the tendancy of these creatures not to die; he had not killed one before, but they weren't unknown to the Ouzquin Dremorix. Looping the still blood-and-gore encrusted sickle to his belt, he made his way over to Jjuldae and knelt over the man, using his clean(ish) left hand to press against the wound on his neck in efforts to stanch the bleeding whilst muttering - half to himself, "You outsiders and your conflicts will be the death of me."

Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

#108

"I... thank you," Aerex managed to stutter. Talia's surprising beauty - why hadn't he noticed it before? - struck him dumbfounded. The adreneline, too, perhaps, sapped words from him. But no, he thought, it was mostly her.

He swallowed and looked down, gaining his head again. "Damn," he cursed, looking at the charred, broken body of his double. "I should have tried to pin it or something. We need to know who it worked for." He wiped his bloodied blade on the doppelganger's tunic, one that matched his own, before placing it safely in his boot sheath. He looked up at Talia. His beauty struck her again, but now his head was level. There was business to attend to. "C'mon, let's see if the others are alright."

Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

#109

"Yes." She nodded as she cleaned her fan off, then tucked it into her belt. "I heard some crashing around downstairs." Jumping heedlessly through a magic portal like that had left her a tiny bit shaken. It wasn't something she'd repeat. "Maybe he told the others who sent him, before we made it up there." She glanced sideways at Aerex. He looked a little... off. "You're okay, right? Not hurt?" She didn't *think* the doppleganger had had any time to attack...

Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

#110

Jjuldae stared down at the splattered shards of the White Wolf's head, it's jaw lying in several pieces across the floor. Glordren panted atop its body, torn open across its measure. The druid spat blood out on the floor, and reflected that none should ever depend on the Old Ones for certainty or constancy, least of all their servants.

He looked up at the ceiling, and then around at the wide collection of adventurers now gathered here- the Company of the Treasured Chest, the Adventurers-on-Return.
"My thanks," he rasped, and collapsed with a heavy thud to the floor, his eyes rolling back into his skull.

Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

#111

"If mister wizard is done collecting ingredients for the next drink, we should clean up the mess we... nah, it ... made. Everyone alive?" Disgustedly, Glordren kicked the form sprawled amongst its own ichor and purulent blood. "Consider your life confiscated, creep" he teased the critter, and added, to his companions: "Toss the thing into the fire and pour oil on it, big time. The holy sun may burn the undead, but the fire burns all. "Ah" he noted, picking up the two larges canines from amongst the mess he made, "I be keeping those, burn the rest, will you?"

Worrying about the outcome of the fight outside, he rushed there, to discover one Aerex lying stretched out in the street, his disguise quickly fading to reveal a sickening grey creature with huge bug-eyes. "So, you got the right one, girlie?" he noted as Talia withdrew her fan from the thing's skull.

"By Emrissa, can't it be goblins, for once?"

Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

#112

The battle seemed to have ended, but what had happened here was still a mystery to Vorodon. Why had these strange creatures attacked them?

As he painfully tried to puzzle out these mysteries, Vorodon bent to retrieve his dart from the dead thing’s flesh and wipe the blood and gore from its bright iron head. Returning his weapon to its quiver, the warrior wished that he had more time. He would have preferred to properly deal with his foes’ remains, but the Guard would be arriving at any moment, and he had to ensure that Maegla was safely out of sight.

Helping the woman from where she had sought cover beneath a table, he lurched outside to where Talia had gone to battle the visage stealer. He had planned to rest at the inn before seeking to shelter Maegla among the traveling folk that had come to the town, but there was no longer any safety to be found there. Soon, half the guardsmen in town would descend upon the place, so there was no way that she could be hidden there.

Finding the Bladedancer outside the inn, Vorodon tried to explain. “Maegla not stay safe inn. Guard come, maybe leftenant come. Nice lady Maegla need place new, place no guard go. Meat go people travel, not know guards; Maegla stay safe. Good?”

Talia seemed a bit uncertain, perhaps disoriented from her passage through the magical portal. "Uh... well, I have a friend in the carnival, she could take care of her, I guess"

In a quick, if garbled, discussion, Vorodon was able to discover that Talia had a friend named Loiha among the carnival folk, who might be able to help. He hated to drag Maegla across town yet again, but it seemed the best solution.

Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

#113

"Yeah, no, I'm fine," Aerex stammered, placing Veitch's rings into his pocket. The portal threw him off a bit. He looked at the bloodied scene around him. "They're gonna kick us out of this place before long," he muttered wryly. The constable was about to comment on the lycanthrope's corpse, but Vorodon's pleading with Talia caught his attention. That bastard lieutenant is still around, he reminded himself. For not the first time, he felt torn about what to do with corrupt police. It was unlikely Farax would cause any more harm with Maegla safe in the hands of the gypsies, but there was no telling who else was under his thumb. Jorgan's words echoed in his mind: "What are you gonna do about it?" Aerex's eyes narrowed. Something, Jorgan.

Aerex ran to the door to catch Vorodon. "My friend, Maegla might be safe with the gypsies, but this town isn't safe with the lieutenant still corrupt," he explained in a low voice. He placed his hand on Vorodon's shoulder and turned him away from the door, standing a few feet from the entrance as the constable prepared a plan.

Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

#114

Dujek stopped his incantations as the dwarf finished smshing the thing's head in, and watched Kadarin methodically collect the bloody ichor of the thing. Leaning back against the wall, trying not to fall back into his oh so wonderful slumber, Dujek watched with a clinical eye as Moruz chopped off what remained of the twice-dead thing's head and shoved it into the fire. Starting towards the stairs, and his now ruined room, he heard the druid hit the floor.

Turning and jogging over to his body, Dujek tried to staunch the flow of blood out of this newest wounded in their week-long bout.

Hey Koschei, is it just me, or do we have some sort of baddie bounty on our heads? I mean, I can understand the bandits, but then those halfling ghouls attacked us, and we've been back in town what, two days, and already I've gotten attacked by a changling, and the poor poor tavern's wrecked, yet again, by a wandering monster?

Looking at the entrance he caught snippets of the conversation going on, something about the lady standing by the orge and the guard. Dujek found it a bit hard to believe that anyone that looked as innocent as her could do anything to get on the bad side of these guards, but weirder things have happened.

"So, when you guys figure out who's doing what, one of you should probably find someone to look after our wounded. I don't think Tristan's doing too well, and this guy ain't gonna be wrestling anymore wolfmen anytime soon."

Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

#115

When Vorodon gave his response, Aerex nodded, hoping he properly understood the gentle brute's words. "Good, good," he said, patting him on the shoulder. "Don't sleep tonight. I'll come get you a few hours after we settle everyone in." The constable glanced around to make sure no one heard him and walked back into the inn.

The lycanthrope corpse was already beginning to stink, and the bird-like man was lying prone on the floor with Dujek over him. The guards were likely to be here soon, and Aerex would be the best one to file a report. Might as well start gathering info, he thought. He knelt down beside Jjuldae and Dujek. "Any idea why that thing was after you?" he asked the necromancer. "Village mobs don't normally hire doppelganger demons to hunt down their outcasts." He looked down at the injured druid. "Think it had anything to do with this guy and the lycanthrope?"

Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

#116

"Hmmm. He spoke thus - of an abomination in the woods that is his bane" Glordren mused, leaning over passed-out Jjudae, "I underestimated it back then, deeming it to be one of 'those' travesties against nature that the Elves and all sorts of nature-nuts get worked up about. Fell a few trees, and pop go their nerves."

Kicking the dead thing once more, he added: "A lesson I learnt - even a nut may be right... but still remain a nut." Kneeling by the wounded, Glordren fished a prayer-coin out of his robe, eight-sided and polished with special varnish to a surreal sheen. It was his pet coin, the spirit within pleasant and talkative. Fondling it, he touched the wounded priest and druid, adding: "O Lady mine, those two have not spent all the coin they should have, their life's price has not been paid. Please grant them some of the small change of vigor you have around your pockets!"

(OOC: casting Cure Trivial Wounds, giving them a whopping 1 hp each... but staunching bleeding and the like)

Gleaming dust settled over Tristan and Jjudae, evaporating in tiny sparkles and a tinkle of diminutive bells. Emrissa did many things just for the effect, but that was her style.
Leaving a soft afterglow, a rosy hue returned to Tristan's cheeks, and Jjudae could draw breath easier.

This done, Glordren faced Aerex again. Tapping his foot against the blood-stained floor he inquired: "What need be done about the lieutenant? Can one walk law's path in a place bereft of justice? Or must it be forged anew with steel and fire?"

Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

#117

"Village mobs don't normally hire much, but when the mob splits up, it's hunger for blood unfilled, men do. Though I doubt anyone that I've angered would have the means to hire more than just a bounty hunter." Looking at the druid and the werewolf briefly, "And, no. I don't know him, and try to make it a habit of getting hunted by the smallest amounts of monstrosities as possible."

"Did he, by any chance, say who hired him?"

Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

#118

Aerex shook his head. "No, he died before I could get anything out of him. I had hoped you knew, but no matter." He rubbed his chin as he looked over Jjuldae, Glorden's prayer sending a glimmering shower over them. "I suppose the werewolf was just an unfortunate coincidence."

He looked up at Glorden as he spoke. I like this one, he thought to himself. The dwarf cut through airs and suppositions to get straight at the matter. There was no need to drag another into this, however. "I greatly appreciate your concern, Sir Blarchtmir. I have plans for this situation, however. Rest assured that justice will be done."

Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

#119

"Rest?" Glordren laughed heartily, heaving like a restless mountain. "Humans need rest. I'd crumble with shame if I let a thief run an once-glorious mining town, this very (pointing to his beard agitatedly) hair would fall out because it would not want to have anything to do with me. Rest he says. Bollocks!" Poking the inspector's shoulder, the dwarf tasked him: "You seem like a smart chap, think up a plan."

Looking at the rest of the werewolf, Glordren added: "Let's burn it all - after all it's wild game caught outside any lord's private woods, so we have the right to deal with it as we see fit, and are answerable to noone for that. It stinks up the place and people's minds too." With that, he grabbed a cleaver from the itchen and chopped at the thing to produce burnable pieces.

Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

#120