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

Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

#321

The pale winter moon looked down on the three stealthy warriors, its cold light threatening to expose them with any misstep. After the tension of creeping past the restless giant’s watchpost, the curtain wall’s shadows offered shelter from unseen eyes. Secreting themselves among the rugged boulders at the wall’s base, Aethelstan quietly uncoiled a heavy rope from his battered satchel. Unwinding one of the rope’s strands, the pale monastic soon had a substantial length of twine ready for the next step in his plan. He couldn’t help but notice, as the twine wound around his hand, how the beds of his nails were turning black; another mark dividing him from the living…

Fumbling through his pouch for the crumbs of food needed as the spell’s component, Aethelstan reminisced about the Charm of the Humble Servant. As a boy, he had learned it from one of the older monks; he had spent many an hour calling up mice and rats and teaching them tricks. The same charm should work to call up a squirrel to climb the wall…

The eldritch syllables came easily to Aethelstan’s mind, yet they seemed somehow… altered from what he knew. He could feel the darkness within him twisting his words as they came out, making the call something it had never been before. Seconds later, he knew something was wrong. Instead of a scampering friend running up, as they always had before, a foul mist writhed up from the ground, coalescing into a… thing vaguely resembling a long-dead rodent. The… squirrel, if that’s what it was, grasped his offered twine in its bony jaw and scrabbled up the wall, its blackened legs scratching and scrambling as nimbly as a living rodent’s. He watched as the withered creature labored up to one of the roof beams extending out of the wall and looped the twine over it. Plummeting down, it began to fall, and Aethelstan, not thinking, reached out to catch the tiny abomination. Even as he did, its tiny body feeling like a handful of sticks and dried leaves, the thing dissolved into a foul-smelling mist, its assigned task completed.

As he tied the rope off to the twine and began to haul it over the roof beam, he couldn’t help but reflect: How long before he, too, was nothing more than bones and dried flesh? He could reduce the smell of decay for some time with his orisons, but it was just a matter of time before he could no longer pass for human.

“Friends, allow me the honor of ascending first, for few are those who can truly harm me,” Aethelstan assured the others and began to awkwardly clamber up the line. Achieving the shattered window, he reached out and began to carefully remove those fragments of glass that yet remained to impede their access into the room beyond.

Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

#322

The window looking in on the chapel was a harbinger of what was to come. Clearing shards of glass, some getting stuck in Aethelstan's sleeve, the undead erstwhile priest gazed inside. The chapel wa sempty and silent, though as Aetehsltan stared, his moan escaped his dessicated lips unbidden.

A ten foot tall granite statue of Andur himself, not even St. Senren, was cracked and leaning on its side. An arm of the statue was torn off(!) apparently, and it had been used to pummel the faithful. A half-dozen bodies lays in various stages of death and dissaray, monks all, slain with heavy crushing blows. An altar smeared with dried blood centered the chamber. A door on the opposite side of the forty by forty foot, rather humble chapel, was closed, but Aethelstan could surmise that it led inside the monastery proper.

multi-colored glass shards were everwhere, like a razor-sharp carpet across the stone floor. Shattered statues and icons perhaps?

Either the fiend who did this, did not fear to be discovered, or the chapel was ignored after the initial assault, Aethelstan could not be sure, or both.

As he shoved through the apperture, Aethelstan could hear Moruz' breathing behind him. The desert warrior had little trouble with rope and wall.

Henge was still below, considering...glancing around...humming.

Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

#323

"And thus the broken priest came upon the broken church." Moruz mused aloud, crossing his arms before him. Standing just behind Aethelstan, the desert warrior studied the priest and his reaction to the desecration. His gaze eventually fell upon the shattered glass strewn across the ground, and he frowned deeply. Shattering glass - treating it as though it were rubbish - this was not a pleasant thing to the Ouzquin Dremorix. With his gloved hand, Moruz gathered several handfuls of the razor material - mainly the clear-colored glass - and slipped the shards into his pouches at his belt. That could come in handy. "Do what you must, but do not linger, Aethelstan. It is obvious that this place is no longer a sanctuary."
Moruz sighed, and peered across the room once more, studying to see if he could notice anything he hadn't picked up at his first glance. He also took the time to study the chapel door without touching it.

Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

#324

A grim look came on Aerex's face. "Something's up," he said decisively. "These stone markers set up to guide us up here, and the message arriving just in time? It's got to be a trick of some kind. Dynast only knows what, though." He pursed his lips, his eyes flitting to the citadel-like monastery on the mountain. "We might be able to get an edge by acting like we don't know it's a trap," he offered. "You know, send up a few to march up to the front door, then Talia and I sneaking around back. That way even if they do get a jump on the main force, we'll have a backup to wreak whatever havoc we can, or at least make a distraction."

Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

#325

The Thing was growing inside the feathered one. He felt it upending the back rows of his mind. Two-leggers-follow-battle-defend, the Thing said. The Old Ways, it said. The feathered one was perplexed (it had little understanding of abstracts).

It hopped and glided short distances, and lifted itself upon the air to follow the two-leggers back within the man-cave.

Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

#326

Inside the Monastery (Now, buzzing with activity)

--Alzamus had made all the arrangements. Dinner would be served later than usual, midnight, this minor tidbit vexed the wizard, but after all, he had to accomodate his new guests(!), he smiled deliciously, having quicky made sure everything was in proper order around the monastery. Everything..and everyone was in place. Alzamus was ready to greet and receive travellers now.

Which reminded him. Where was that Grilgrull? Had the Stone Giant thrall taken to wondering the narrow-pathed mountain again? He made a mental note to chastise the beast of burden.

--The great long, monastic table was set in the main dining hall, and the cast of characters took to their assigned seats. Trays were brought up from the larders, salt pork, onions and beans, pickled vegetables, and casks of wine. Freshly slain winter partridges were roasting on the spit.

--Donovan was hopeful this night, the first time in a tumultous and terrifying week, as he caressed the rebec and thought of new songs for his wizard "liege".

--Fyrfyrion flew from his "coop", his intent known only to the quasit, and maybe Alzamus.

--Mazoma looked richly adorned with heavy makeup, strong perfume, and a wragged wolf-fur serving as a cape.

--Lazanne sighed, as she reclined across the feathered bed. The bed of the main Abbot was as sparse and hard as the rest of the beds in the monsatery she thought, but at least Alzamus had spread a downy blanket of hummingbird feathers upon the cold wood, for her comfort. Soon, she would take her place at his side at the head of the table, she resigned herself, and he would question her further about her unborn child.

Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

#327

"I'd give my left arm for a war-automaton about now," Vee said as they trodged on up the hill, following the markers on the ground. He regretted the comment in retrospect considering how one of the instructors at Nimz had lost an arm to an automaton and had a mechanical arm in it's place. While the steel and brass arm was much stronger than an arm of flesh and blood, the professor had spoken of the loss of most tactile sensation and fine motor control. As a club or cudgel, it was spendid, but for turning pages in a book, much less so.

The conversation bounced back and forth, diversions, feints, sending the group in multiple directions. Then, they found a length of rope dangling from a high window in the monastary above...

Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

#328

Suddenly very suspicious, Kadarin spoke quietly - "You know, he did say his words are not to be trusted. Was he speaking of the note to be found, or the note he sent."

Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

#329

Henge slowly crawled up the rope. "Young not am I anymore," mumbled he on the way up. When he cleared the window, he was winded. Looking about, his worst fear was assured. Evil unnatural most had taken root here. He reached into his pouch and brought some herbs up to his nose. Crushing them slightly, he rubbed it under his lips. He offered it to his living companion, knowing the dead would not mind that smell.

Henge looked up to see if there was a loft or gallery or bell access here. Given the location of the chapel, it might work well to find another path out.

He also begain to set a trip trap against entry of the door. Just in case someone might disturb them while they try to figure out what happened here... besides Evil that is.

Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

#330

A wordless moan of anguish wrenched itself from Aethelstan’s torn soul as he realized the depth of the evil that had torn through this sacred place. “They’re dead. All dead…” he uttered softly as he knelt among the carnage, his hands gently caressing the tonsured hair of his brethren, shattered and ruined like the glass icons that had once filled the chamber. Fragments of brightly-colored glass tore his flesh as he knelt with his brothers, but it didn’t matter. He could hear the others entering and moving about the chamber, but none of that mattered, either. All that was important was scattered on the floor around him, silently calling to him: Their brother in death.

“This will need some time, but it must be done. My brothers... they are hurting. They need me to take care of them,” the revenant priest indicated to his comrades. His dead eyes were dry behind their mirrored lenses, but his voice conveyed the tears that his eyes could no longer shed.

Quietly, Aethelstan began arranging the bodies into poses of composure, his untiring strength fighting the rigor that had frozen them into positions of contorted agony. He endlessly uttered the prayers for the dead, suspecting that he, too, needed the benediction of Andur to shelter him within this desecrated place.

As he worked, he vaguely noticed Moruz checking about the room suspiciously and Henge setting up some sort of trip line before the door. These things couldn’t distract him now; there was too much to be done. Finishing his work with the remains, he moved on to the altar. Tearing the hem from his battered robes, he knelt before the altar. Moistening the rag from his mostly-empty waterskin, he began to wipe it clean, praying as his impatient comrades watched in frustration, eager to leave this ominous place. In a few minutes, he was done, and moved on to the final task of the chamber: The statue of Andur.

The massive statue was beyond his ability to repair, but he went to its massive arm, left caked with the blood and tissue of Andur’s clergy. This, too, he cleaned, heaving the massive limb up and hauling it back to the fallen statue. All he could do was prop it against the statue’s side; where once the hand had been held aloft in benediction, now its open hand seemed almost to be reaching out.

Something just beyond the broken statue’s grasp caught Aethelstan’s eye. Moving some of the debris littering the floor, his questing fingers something lying beneath. The worn hilt of a massive, ancient sword, now revealed beyond the god's palm as if he were drawing it.

Aethelstan drew the battered blade forth from its dusty grave. The avenging Hand of Andur would bear the god’s blade this day. His brothers' voices would be heard, whispering of justice in the whirl of steel.

Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

#331

“Myr sniessey da’n oie, slhee mitchooryn“ Donovan mumbled as he descended into the depths of the structure “if I’m lucky, that is…”

He moved through the deep shadows, knowing his skills were of little help to him in the dark. He moved close to the walls, darting from corner to archway.
He knew there was a way to the outside below the monastery. He could see the opening from the outer wall, a drain of some sort. He adjusted the heavy rope on his shoulder. Fifty feet was most likely too short, but with the other bits woven together end to end he carried nearly twice that now.

The smell of clear air moved through the corridors, laying an easy trail for the uneasy bard. He moved quickly now, marking his trail with a small piece of chalk through the caverns.

Boayl nagh vel aggle cha vel grayse.

The large iron portcullis afforded the perfect place to tie off the meager length of rope he managed to acquire. Using what he was sure was one too many knots he tied off the rope and dropped the loose end out through the old bars.
Now he rushed along the well marked trail through the dungeon-like levels below the old church. He would soon be back in the room where his now dead travel companions froze and rotted as the days and nights passed.

Stepping into the room he wondered if there may be a thing of use hidden among the bodies of the dead minstrels. He steeled his nerve and began the morbid search.

After a short time he exited the room, tired, sickened and with yet another glimmer of hope. Salvaged from his friends were items of either use or interest.
He found a fine dagger, a small bag of glass marbles, a “tankard” lantern with two candles, one pair of “knucklebones”, a small flask of strong spirits and a plain gold ring which he put on upon finding. Along with this was his journal, notes on herbs, animals, magic and folklore.

All he had to do now was avoid Mazoma, care for the girl (so long as the mage kept his temper), and wait.

He headed for the main hall, where the old magus was preparing to host a feast for his imminent “guests”. Donovan picked up his pace, grinning and humming a tune he remembered from his childhood…

Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

#332

There was a whisper from some unseen source in the darkness. "Plotting... Scheming... Always scheming, our busy little Donovan!" the voice was baritone, sadistic and mocking.

Donovan tried to discover the source of the voice, but he did not see anything or anyone other than the all too familiar corridors; his prison as of late.

Suddenly something cold touched his unprotected neck; something cold and sharp slithered down his bare skin, making Donovan shiver uncontrollably.
"So sssoft. So delicate. Does the maassster know? Does he know how you consort with birdss, ssending sssecret messages to enemies unknown? Does he know how you plot and yearn for his fall?"
"You will do me a favor. You must do me a favor, lest the maasster learns of your betrayal, and of your wicked devious ways!" The message was delivered enthusiastically, spit accompanying it. After finishing, the voice stopped dramatically for a few seconds.
"You must kill the master's pet! You must kill Lazanne, and I will not tell him of your scheming little plots!" the voice came from behind now, and it was farther away than at first.

Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

#333

As the rest of the party approached, Vorodon stayed hidden behind the rock slab that sheltered the trail. He held his hand low in the sign for silence, hoping that the others would understand the hill stalkers’ gesture.

Ahead, the monolithic figure of the giant stood, obviously guarding the monastery’s gates. The half-breed warrior cursed softly in the tongue of the Volgotoi: The Gora’am accursed giant appeared to be alert, despite the hour. He had hoped to creep past whatever guardians the trail held, but that option was closed to them. Vorodon again cursed whatever evil fate had caused the colossus to be alert for their arrival.

Scanning intently, he could see that the massive monstrosity was too dangerous to fight. While Dujek’s joint-locking spell might even the odds, Vorodon didn’t want to contemplate the carnage that the giant’s hurled boulders would inflict. If the spell failed, he estimated that fully half the party would fall before they could take the colossus down.

That left only one option, one he despised again resorting to: Deception. Stepping out boldly from behind his stony hiding place, the massive warrior strode forward, calling out in the tongue of the Volgotoi, “Hail, Large One! Could you pass my apologies to the master of this place? I would not come so late, but I don’t want to spend another night in the cold!”

The giant seemed puzzled at first, so the hill warrior continued in his badly-accented common, “Greet well, big thing! Vorodon visit late, for but no be in cold long too much! Cold no good!”

Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

#334

Aerex clenched his teeth in anguish as Vorodon shouted down the hill to, undoubtedly, the monstrous giant that had stalked the herder's pasture. Oh, Voro, no, was all he could think. Nothing could be done about it now, though, except to go along with whatever ruse Vorodon had planned - or, more likely the case, not planned. Aerex quickly pulled his bow from his pack and strung it, nocking an arrow immidiately after. He didn't know where exactly giants were vulnerable. Eyes, maybe? How big were a giant's eyes? He tried to shake the thought from his head as he positioned himself a couple yards behind Vorodon, crouched, waiting for the giant to approach and be ambushed.

Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

#335

D**mit you orge. Dujek and Koschei fumed in unison, the lizard even going so far as to about double in size in its anger.

Ducking down behind the nearest boulder, as out of sight as he can get, Dujek readied himself to run or fight as the situation played out.

Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

#336

Talia rubbed her temples. "Of all the stupid..." she muttered quietly. She sighed. She made very sure that the group was out of sight of the giant. "Let's at least take advantage of this and see if we can't sneak in." She was whispering very quietly. If they could get past the giant, that would be good.

Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

#337

Out of view of the Giant, Kadarin still kept an ear on what was going on. Of all the defences the wizard in the monestary had, the Giant was the most physical - at least that is what he hoped. Everything else would likely be traps, either magical or mundane, but he figured more likely magic. Wizards spent little time building things like that, leaving that to skilled minons.

What did that leave? Even strong wizards would not fight straight up without minions to absorb the enemy while they cast spells. Undead? He would have lots of dead monks to work with, but those scared him less then other threats. Whatever undead he could raise would not be as formidible as the ghouls the adventurers had already faced. But at what cost...

Gylphs like the one gaurding the dwarf crypt. Voices that would call out when one passed. Illusions over pits like the bandits had. Hopefully the wizard was not so powerful as to master some of the greater defences or the party was surely lost. Invisibility? Suddenly, Kadarin's blood went cold. He could be watching us approach and we would not know until the lightning bolt lanced out to strike us! Perhaps there would be a slight warning chant, but that would be it. No, ones ears would be one's best defence here.

Whispering - "If you hear anything you can't place, take care, for magii can become invisible. And if you hear chanting, take cover."

Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

#338

Aerex tensed. Talia had a point: with the Volgotor distracting the giant, it might not notice a couple of them slipping around back. But what would happen once the giant met up with Voro? Would it figure out the deception and become enraged? Vorodon was big, but the giant was definately bigger. He grimaced at the thought of the enormous beast crushing the smaller, friendlier beast.

On the other hand, Talia was likely heading down there regardless of what the others did. Together they might be able to sneak attack the giant and do some damage before he actually noticed them. Besides, he'd be d**ned if that thief got the jump on him again. "Stay here!" Aerex hissed to Keykold. The ex-constable moved silently and discreetly toward Talia.

Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

#339

Eventually, Moruz followed Henges thought and peered upwards, spotting the loft some ways above them. Considering a moment, the glass shifter glanced to the door - now rigged by Henge - then back up to the loft, and then he focused on the addled druid once more. "Henge... are you able to coax another vine to grow? If I could climb up there, perhaps I could make my way through the upper level and safely see what is on the other side of that door." Moruz frowned slightly - besides, there was that 'all the eggs in one basket' motto which the outlanders loved so much - if they split up but stayed close enough, perhaps THEY could get the jump on the ENEMY for a change, in a pincer attack.

Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

#340

There was a slight sound behind Moruz, unheard by all but him. It sounded faintly like the scraping of metal against stone. A second thereafter there was a slight rush of wind, then once again silence reigned supreme.

Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

#341

Donovan stopped for a moment. It had to be the wizard’s fiend-familiar, and it touched him. Now why would it speak to me he wondered.

“Betrayal is my death, fiend. If the old mage finds out it will be the end of me.”
Donovan smiled to himself.
“But I can come no closer to the girl than I wager you can” he cooed “and I’d be cold and gone before I could facilitate a means of termination. That is, unless you were to help me…”
He walked on through the corridor, tapping his fingers on the face of his rebec.

“You need not answer, for I know the wizard has power beyond your own. It seems we both are the wanting, and neither satisfied.” He moved with a sure gait, almost dancing along the dark halls.

“You have till the first draw of my bow this night to decide where our fates lie…”

Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

#342

"No gamesss. Not toniiight. Look! Look in your pouch, for there are the blossoms of blue that you will pulverize and put in her tonic, for I know he trusts you with her health! Do not disappoint me bard!"

Then there was silence, and Donovan felt alone once again.

Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

#343

I am posting this now as I might not be able to later. We may be waiting for the passing of the robes first.

Henge nodded. He moved to infront of the chapel door- with one foot bracing against it, should it open while he is standing there. With a smile, he removed two small bags. Henge out of one some soild, the other a seed, which he planted with reverenced and a tuneless humming. few drops of water from a skin of water, and a few drops of blood from the skin of the druid, and the plant began to grow.

Quoah! Grow in the old tonuge. He stood there for a few moments as the trappning vines grew. An Entangling vine grew over the door, to pounce it will on the fool who entered it. It also made for a handy path for the foreign man.

He stepped away and with a slight florish.

Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

#344

Vorodon, Grilgrull, Talia, Aerex, Vee, Kadarin, Dujek...and Mazoma.

“Pebbles and paste, paste and pebbles” the Stone giant hummed his favorite poem as he rose to stretch.

As Vorodon climbed over the last ridge and strode forth, Grilgrull managed several moments of stunned silence. This was no human, that he was seeing now, no, this one looked more like a member of that smelly and belligerent race---in fact, this one looked a lot like the brother of another Volgotoi Grilgrull had recently pounded and stomped.

Grilgrull thought for a moment, straining himself, and then tried to make sense of the half-ogre’s tone and tongue.

“Cold, big, night-thing late” was that what he had said? Grilgrull was at a loss truth be told, the stone giant was not used to being blatantly accosted, even the ogres of the Great Escarpment knew better than to mess with the ‘Stone-Kings’.

“Come Grilgrull greet, little ogre”, the giant managed, his voice rough and harsh from his earlier wound. The giant was simply unsure of what to do. Alzamus had bid him slay intruders, but was this an intruder or a visitor? It would be easier to kill later and be punished for being a poor guard, than it would be to kill now, and be more severely punished if the wizard had been expecting someone, and forgot to tell Grilgrull. Besides, he was so tired of smashing people to pulp. Maybe this tusked “little-big-one” would be a friend to Grilgrull. Maybe he—The giant realized suddenly that his own thought process was going to slow.

“Walk here”, the giant waved to Vorodon, and as the half-ogre slowly approached, Grilgrull thought of a good way they could be friends. He remembered an old ritual the ogres had when it came to greeting kin and acquaintances.

“Hit Grilgrull, then Grilgrull hit you", the giant managed a smile, showing rows of granite-like teeth. As if to assure the visitor Grilgrull meant no ill, the giant slightly bent, and arched his massive chin in front of the Volgotor.

Vorodon knew the Old Ways. Sighing, for the Volgotor now knew there was pain in his immediate future, he unleashed a powerful roundhouse to the giant’s lower jaw.

“Crack!” came the sound of the half-ogre’s fist smashing the giant’s chin, and it was at this point, as Kadarin and Dujek looked on, that the two mages stared in stunned silence, mouths agape. Vorodon had lost it. He was thouroughly insane, of this there was no doubt, he had just punched (!) the giant.

Grilgrull moaned, as his face reeled back and to the left, but a moment later, the giant was grinning and clacking his jaw, rubbing it briefly with his huge hand.

“Grilgrull turn” the giant remarked and swung at Vorodon without further warning, smashing Vorodon’s chin in turn, but even from a distance, the two hidden mages could now tell that the giant had held back his full power.

A bizarre noise of anguish briefly escaped Vorodon’s lips as the half-ogre went down like a stationary lancers dummy.

Dujek and Kadarin looked on in amazement, as Vorodon grunted, but slowly rose, his nose now bloody, though the two mages could not see that in the dark.

Grilgrull meanwhile started making strange noises, ones that could only be described as laughter, or more like throaty gurgles, perhaps, then helped the half-ogre up, and pointed to the main gate.

“Wait here, then you come meet master”, Grilgrull offered and without another word, turned to enter the monastic abode, leaving Vorodon standing in place, and rubbing his nose, which was now officially broken, and gushing blood. Strange, thought the two mages as they continued to look upon the scene, not sure of what to do, Vorodon seemed to be smiling.

Meanwhile (and moments earlier), as Grilgrull and Vorodon were getting “acquainted”, Talia had burst like a nocturnal feline from her hiding place, and rushed to the side and past the giant, heading to the main gate. Aerex followed her quickly, and soon two shadows were racing across the open terrain, beneath the bright light of the full moon. Several agonizing seconds later, they were huddled against the cold stone of the keep. The monastic gates were not meant to keep people out, they were meant simply as an entryway, and soon, Talia and Aerex had slipped between the iron bars, and deep inside moonlit courtyard, approaching the main door of the abbey.

It was Aerex who hissed and shoved Talia emphatically, to the side and behind the stone staircase leading up to the actual entrance, for the rogue had spotted the giant returning now in the same direction. The two crouched and hid, as Grilgrull walked up the ten wide steps and entered the door.

For a moment all was silent.

Unseen to all, including his own companions, Vee Keykold, had also been on the move at the same time as Talia and Aerex had bolted for the entrance, but the lone rogue avoided the main gate and instead made a beeline to a section of wall fifty yards distant of the action, the tower wall.

Vee crouched and smiled. A rope dangled innocently from a window in the lower part of the tower, and Vee was now holding the bottom end and grinning to himself.

“Let see where this twine leads” he mused and without a further word, scrambled nimbly up the wall. By the time Grilgrull and Vorodon had exchanged punches, the Night-Prowler from Nimz, was halfway up to the window. By the time, the giant had seemingly left Vorodon standing in place to return to the keep, Vee was looking through the window, fifty feet above the ground.

Meanwhile, Aerex and Talia were just about to move again, when they heard the great door opening once more, and froze in place, merely ten feet from the opening aperture, but hidden on the side of the courtyard’s staircase. This time the giant came forth, but wasn’t alone. Aerex smelled perfume before he noticed a voluptuously heavy-set woman walking ahead of Grilgrull, back to the outer gate where the giant had left Vorodon.

As Vorodon stood, he now saw a human woman emerge from the keep, lips painted, eyes blackened from kohl, a white wolf’s pelt cape, trailing behind her in the night wind.

The two walked up casually to Vorodon.

“A cold night to be wondering so far from home.” She cooed to the half-ogre in a strange lilting fashion.

“Whatever brings you here, warrior, know that you are welcomed by the Master of this Household, Alzamus. You may come with me, away from the cold, and meet the Master. He would welcome your company on this lonely night. But of course you do not travel alone, mighty one, where are your traveling companions? Surely, like you, they may wish for roasted meat and a warm bed, eh?”

She smiled, with a smile that could kill, if indulged long enough.

Yes, there was rolling involved. Hide in Shadows, Move silently, Climb Walls, Dex checks, perception, and others

Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

#345

We, the Chapel Three, the Dead and Dying Be.

Moruz stared at the buoyant, organic vine before him. As Henge stepped back to admire his own work, Moruz wasted no time, scrambling up, only to slip down briefly, and scurry up once more, eventually reaching the chapel’s loft

http://www.festivalhill.org/images/photoalbum/1/1148928431_BillHuber5.jpg
http://www.cspya.org/images/SP4.jpg (sorta, kinda, but not really like this :P)

The druid’s summoned vine held tight, and soon the desert warrior found himself above the eerie, silent chapel, strewn with the dead, and with one particular priest of the undead variety.

The arching loft centered on an attic of sorts, or a cantoria, as the monks of Andur and St. Senren called it. Normally this place served as a hidden private office or room for the priests, not that Moruz would be aware, but the Ouzquin Dremorix did quickly figure out one thing. There had to be another exit up here. That thought was on hold for the moment however, as the desert warrior surveyed the grisly scene. The loft and attic was lined with corpses of monks, as if someone had gone through the trouble of climbing up here and stashing the bodies. They were all either on top or leaning against one another. Moruz quickly counted ten bodies. Along with the half-dozen littering the floor of the gruesome chapel, it was now quite obvious a great slaughter took place here. The stench was nearly unbearable, but the cold air kept the bodies from decomposing. Black, blood filled eyes, eyes glared at Moruz as he crept along the loft. As his previous search below, his search above yielded nothing of interest or value. But then Moruz saw the great bell in its own alcove, tucked into the timbers of the ceiling chamber. Behind the great bell, Moruz spied a half-door in the wood, the kind of door, which might lead to a walkway, connecting the rest of the monastery to the chapel, the desert warrior thought as he once again took stock of his situation.

Meanwhile below, Henge inspected his door trap with satisfaction and gazed sadly upon the scene before him. All life-giving air seemed to be gone from this cursed place, the druid noted, only the dead were left. Henge longingly eyed the moonlight as it cast its beams through the two shattered windows.

Aethelstan raised the mighty blade above his head once more, then lowered it, and raised it anew. He seemed to be measuring its length and heft. The priest-that-should-not-be slowly but deliberately planned his next course of action, for a moment oblivious to the gently humming Henge, and the daredevil Moruz.

Suddenly…an urgent knock sounded on the other side of the locked door. This caught Henge slightly off guard, but the druid quickly recovered. Whoever was knocking, was merely ten feet and a wooden door away from the druid and the priest.

The knock came again. Short, clipped, and insistent.

And the three companions tensed, the two now clad in bloodied robes, and the third, the third, something more...something more than the other two now portrayed. Aethelstan looked toward the sound. Moruz was still above, but now looked down intently, trying to use the moonlight to his advantage. Henge merely ceased his humming.

Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

#346

A look of consternation spread across Vorodon’s bloodied face. A woman! And not one that was Senan Karnat , like that murderous, half-breed Volgottir female he’d encountered before, or with a male’s mind, full of anger, like the Bladedancer. This woman clearly had a mind like the Volgotoi females he’d met as a child, full of treachery and deceit. The less he told her, the less he could give away.

He stared at the woman, confusion spreading across his features. While Vorodon found deceit uncomfortably womanish, he had long ago mastered the art of looking stupid. It was time for the woman to meet the world’s dumbest Half-Ogre. “Yes! Me go! Cold no good! Come here friends! Other friends! Good?”

Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

#347

"Vile blasphemous beasts! Wretched cysts of darkness! Cursed thrice and a thousand times ye be, by one voice of the TRUE master, Andur be praised!"

The monk that everyone had forgotten would not be silenced. The frail, young man came over the ridge and running as fast as his legs could carry him, directly at Vorodon, Grilgrull, and Mazoma.

Aerex and Talia watched in astonishment, hidden to the left side of the great stare, the Ten Steps of Contemplation, as the monk, Tirron came cursing, spitting, and waving his arms in the night.

"Ye are but Lice of Woe! Ye think the spirit of the Saint shall be crushed like the glass? Fall down! Fall down and be humbled by HIM! And pray thee for thy forgiveness, which shall NEVER come!"

Mazoma $%@#ed her head, her eyes smiling in amusement, as she watched the maddened monk's charge.

To Grilgrull she simply said. "Mmm, the cold has bit his mind this night. Take him to the chapel where he may pray." she cooed, and without a care turned once more to lead Vorodon up the monastery's steps.

Grilgrull came toward the running man. Aerex and Talia watched with eyes wide open, as the giant effortlessly lifted the monk off the ground, and held him under his stony arm, as if the monk was a bale of hay.

"Go", Mazoma urged the stupid stone giant. "Go, then come back to Alzamus' Feast. He will wish to speak with you."

With the monk still spouting profanities, and even managing to vomit bile on Grilgrull's chest, the giant walked off outside the gate once more, circling the promentory and apparently heading for the chapel.

Kadarin and Dujek were perplexed. They had just witnessed the unfolding scene, but even more horrifying to the pair, was they had just heard Vorodon calling them forth...his 'friends', to join him. They paused watching the giant walk away with the struggling monk, then looked back at Vorodon and some woman, who smiled, while Vorodon scratched his head.

"Come, warrior, but pray, what is your name?" she cooed again and opened the door to the main hall, ushering the half-ogre inside.

Meanwhile back outside...

"Look at you. You are an idiot. Why are we here?" Koschei chose this moment to think at Dujek.

Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

#348

You know what, you useless sack of scales, I may be an idiot for all I know. Maybe that knock to the head, that you said you knew someone who could fix it, addled my mind and I might even now be dreaming all this up in a fever and have no clue as to why I am here. But, before I abandon these folks to a senseless death, I plan on pissing on that fobbing, elf-skinned, hedge-born, lumpish clotpole of a mage that made me walk all this way because he might have one of the few people that hasn't out right tried to tie me down and sacrifice me to some "caring" Sun god.

"Well, I guess that's our cue. Look innocent, and tuck you shirt in or something, we're the honored guests now."

Bah-Humbug.

Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

#349

"I DO know someone that can help you", Koschei replied non-plussed, oblivious to completing the necessary second part of that statement.

Dujek emerged from his hiding spot, and gazed upon the woman and the confused looking Volgotor. Kadarin paused, unsure. Mazoma turned and went inside, but not before gracing the necromancer with her thick-lipped smile.

Moments later, Mazoma had ushered the pair inside a great foyer, and then a great hall, sparse, all wooden beams and some iron, no sign of anything amiss. Even the glass here did not litter the floor, Dujek noted, as he followed the woman and the half-ogre through the shadowy depths of the keep. Thick, sweating candles, stood in the corners of the two chambers they traversed, but overhead, the half-ogre could spy big chandeliers, broken and unlit. Or at least he would have known them to be chandeliers....but instead they looked like giant, jagged, sprouted pears, hanging from the ceiling, ever so feintly and only occasionally casting some moonlight off its cracked glass shingles.

Pausing in the main hall, empty and clean, as it was, Mazoma approached a set of double doors studded with iron, and dramatically swung them open.

The first thing Dujek noticed was the light streaming from the adjacent chamber, while the first thing Vorodon noticed was the lovely aroma of roast partridge, he had once ate thirty birds at one sitting, he remembered, though he was not sure why he had remembered this now.

The two companions could not yet see beyond the portal, but now Mazoma waved them inside, and announced them in turn.

"Two travellers, Good Alzamus, come to humbly share your ample table. They may have more friends, but they have not as of yet ascended, I dare guess." she cast Alzamus an imperceptibly knowing look. "Will you oblige them?" The woman smiled and walked to the great long-table which could seat fifty men comfortably, centering this next room, the dining hall no doubt, Vorodon and Dujek surmised as they entered. Seated at the far end of the table was the man, Mazoma had called Good Alzamus. Others were around as well, a musician, a beautiful, but languid woman seated beside the master of the house, and others, though not many others. The group seemed to be, as if they were just about to begin dining.

It would take the half-ogre and the brain-addled necromancer a few moments to take in all the detail of the chamber. Unlike the foyer and main hall, it was well lit with braziers, though shadows did dance along the edges.

Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

#350

Vorodon tried not to grit his teeth in frustration. He hadn’t realized the effect that his incoherent babbling would have on his allies! He’d hoped that his “obvious” lack of comprehension would convince the woman that he barely understood her, not draw the luckless Dujek and the hysterical monk into the trap with him! All he could do was wait for the chance to turn on their hosts, now that they had been drawn into the wizard’s web.

"Come, warrior, but pray, what is your name?” the woman asked again in her sacharine voice.

She wanted to know his name, did she? A scene from some childhood fable came to mind, something about a ship’s captain whose cunning plans always got him into more hot water than he would ever have been in otherwise. Drawing on the ancient legend, he replied, pounding his chest meaningfully, “Warrior name Novold!” Hopefully she wouldn’t have the wit to catch the reference. Novold… “nobody” in the dialect of the Volgotoi.

Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

#351

---Aerex, Talia, and now Kadarin are on the outside of the monastery, past the gate, in the courtyard, beneath a stone staircase leading up ten long and wide steps to the double door entrance of the monastery proper, the same door through which Vorodon and Dujek had just followed Mazoma through.

---Vee is poised fifty feet up the main tower, on the window sill of a small nondescript room, with a bed, a desk, and a door on the opposite side. The tower goes up at least another seventy feet to its summit, Keykold reasons, and while gazing upon the room's contents, he spies a parchment beneath the moldy, burlap bedsheet, protruding conspicuosly and yet barely noticeable at the same time.

This is a strange state I find myself in. My heart is filled with venom, yet I can not bring myself to betray my humble and divine liege. My life is his till he releases me.
I ask only that you free me to wander the lands again, to play the songs of my people.
I cannot offer reward save for the good deed you would perform…I have nothing but myself and my songs.

Care is needed in this place.
Evil lurks here now, pulsing through the walls as blood through veins.
Neither shadow nor hidden place is safe.
There is only dark magic and death.
I care not for a single soul here save mine, as all the good and light within these walls has been turned to a vile mockery of what once was.

I will sing of your victory for years to come.

D.R.

Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

#352

Donovan sat on the edge of his bed working the mortar and pestle diligently. A sickening feeling was growing in him. His mother told him remorse would do that to a man…and no herb would cure it.

The small blue flowers were a fine powder now. He poured the mixture into a small folded scrap of parchment and tucked it into the cuff of his sleeve. Donovan placed his tools back into the satchel and closed it carefully.
The fiend had the advantage. There was no recourse for him but to place the powdered flowers into Lazanne’s drink. Alzamus would think it a sickness cure, he was sure of that. It was what would be expected of him. The sticky sweet flavor was common to his cures, having treated children in his home village since he was young.

He picked up his rebec and strapped it onto his belt. Sliding his forearm through the brace on the back of his boudran he walked towards the door, the feeling in his gut slowly subsiding.
This was the only way…

Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

#353

"This is bad," Talia whispered to Aerex, once the others had left the hall. "They could get into difficulties. Although I suppose they'll be heading for where this wizard is." She looked around, trying to decide what to do. "I don't like this. Let's just kill this fellow and be done with it." She started carefully towards the stairs the others had gone up, hopefully they could slip in, now that the gate wasn't being watched.

This place had a bad feel. If what she'd heard was accurate, there had been a slaughter of epic proportions here. That sort of thing always made the barriers between the realm of the living and the spirit world dangerously thin. The sooner they got out of here, the better.

Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

#354

The feast chamber was impressive. Really impressive.

Too bad he wasn’t going to stay.

Grabbing Dujek by the arm, Vorodon whirled around and ran after the behemoth! Brother Tieron, that poor, hysterical monk, wasn’t going to be abandoned!

(Exuent, stage left! Lets try not to fall down the stairs!)

Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

#355

As quietly as he could, Vee pryed the window open and made his way into the small room. The air was cold and stale, old castle it seemed. The stone underfoot seemed steady enough, good construction. Master Turnavis would chide him for not noticing the lattice work in the stone carving. the monastary was old, at least 400 years if the latticework was imitation, and perhaps as old as 800 if it was genuine. Useless tidbits it would seem, but he took them in anyway.

(OOC - time to start exploring into the keep, looking for things of value, potential weapons and traps.)

Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

#356

Half eaten partridge fell out of his mouth, as Alzamus gaped at the fleeing half-ogre and his diminutive friend. If it was one thing he despised, it was bad manners. Not his bad manners, as much as those of others. Of course no one ever told him he had bad manners and it was just as well. Alzamus wouldn't have understood anyway.

To think that Mazoma and Galod have languished the entire day in the kitchen, and THIS is what they get? THIS is their reward!?

"You DO NOT get to leave before - I - SAY SO!" the wizard bellowed, his middle aged, but fair face contorted with anger. There was the jarring sound of breaking glass as he threw a crystal decanter into the wall. It had been half filled with wine and hit the stone wall to the right of the half ogre. Drops of crimson liquid and crystalline pieces of glass rained down on the fleeing pair.

"Ankathom Sirram Sindal Sindalion!"

The voice of the mage was deep and ferocious. It sounded almost like some ancient curse. There was no doubt he had been deeply offended. All the while Madame Mazoma screamed and cursed, her voice full of outrage and righteous fury! The scandal! To displease the master so!

(OOC: Details about the spell has been sent to Murometz for saving throws and the like)

Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

#357

It takes a lot to affect a hardened Ouzquin Dremorix warrior. But this made Moruz's face turn pale. without even noticing himself, he muttered a poem softly beneath his breath.

A scream of silent corpses, stacked up in a row.
Life ground.
Souls shattered.
Flesh a feast to Vauriko.

The poem was a tribute to a mass-murder in a similar situation; one which detailed the death of a dozen Clerics of Axtrami in a minor temple to the god in the desert. Yes, it looked like Vauriko - the Ouzquin Dremorix incarnation of Death - had fed well, here. Those glazed eyes jeered at Moruz accusingly, dancing around him as though this were his fault. Shaking his head pointedly, the glass shifter focussed on the half-door which he had spied. He checked the door carefully to see if there were any tampering with it, and spoke in a loud whisper - the echo of the cathedral carrying his voice down to the others, "There is another exit through..." He cut off his words as an urgent thump sounded on the other side of the door down below. Instantly, he ducked down and peered over the edge cautiously. The others could hide, try to climb to the loft, go back down through the window, or open the door. There wasn't many other options. Paranoid with the feel of the corpses behind him, Moruz also kept half-an-eye on the half-door in the loft.

Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

#358

"Well Mouse, " Kadarin whispered, "I think we should follow Talia and the inspector."

Kadarin could sense the somewhat conforting presence of the charm both he and Mouse bore, but it would provide scant protection against spellfire or a Giant's stone. Sitting outside accomplished nothing.

"Follow me." Though not a trained expert, Kadarin knew a little about keeping a low profile, using the deep shadows to conceal his approach to the monestary. Hopefully the others have distracted them enough..

"Mouse - this 'bad magic' you mentioned - how clearly can you sense it? Is it a general aura" again whispered. A pause. "Or can you sense specific areas?"

Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

#359

Aerex wanted to protest, but he found his feet agreeing with Talia. "How do you propose we do that?" he whispered. It sounded snide, but it was an honest question. This wizard had a giant and an Amazon guarding him, and the sorcerer's own power must have been strong as well. Taking any of them head on would be risky. "Maybe we should keep our stealth advantage," he offered. "Hide in the wings, wait for something to happen before we jump into action." Aerex thought it sounded like the most tactically favorable choice.

Re: Adventurers-Upon-Return (Chap II)

#360

Talia shook her head as she made to slip inside. As long as they could get inside before the giant returned, they *should* be able to hide. "Too much uncertainty," she whispered. "The longer this goes on, the worse our chances become. To kill a snake, you have to cut the head off. The more we wait, the bigger advantage the wizard has." She was silent, trying to make sure they weren't going to be spotted. Then she whispered,low enough that only Aerex could hear her (and just barely) , "I have enough ghosts attatched to me, I don't want any more." Then, in a slightly louder whisper, she addressed Kadarin. "It might be better for the boy to stay out here, I have a feeling this isn't going to end well."