On the 19th of Zarantyr, 994 YK, they returned to Blood Crescent. The way back was quicker than the way there, especially with so many riderless mounts. The treasure they bore was minimal, not much had been locked away in the old temple, but they’d burned the bodies of their comrades so as to prevent any gain to the Wastes’ carrion-eaters.
They’d even burned Nebly’s body, accounting that the flayer had forced the gnome to betray everyone, and it hadn’t been the little fellow’s own choice.
Watching the pyre, Orphan had deeply regretted his juvenile jealousy.
Of course by any standard he was a juvenile.
By the 21st of Zarantyr they were on a ship bound for Yrlag.
Thursday, December 30, 2010
Wednesday, December 29, 2010
Chapter 10 – Part 17
The flayer twitched and writhed wildly, trying to escape Orphan’s grip. It could not, the forged had it perfectly pinned. It tried to use its powers to teleport away. It could not, the pain from the pressure on its neck and spine from the monk’s wrestler’s grip was too much.
So the flayer mentally called K’gah to its side.
Which Orphan had been counting on.
Timing the turn perfectly, the warforged pivoted and threw the flayer towards the charging gnoll captain. The great blade spitted the flayer, and the alien thing squawked and spit forth purplish-blue blood from its tentacled maw. K’gah gasped at what he’d done, then fell to his knees, grasping his head in pain as the flayer shrieked anger directly into the gnoll’s brain.
And since the locked gauntlet kept K‘gah from dropping his blade, the immediate effect of K’gah dropping to his knees was to peel the flayer open like a pig at market.
Orphan sidestepped the shaking sword point and grabbed the mortally wounded flayer. He threw the thing from Xoriat at the wights. Weakened, the flayer fell to them quickly, falling to the ground as it wasted away from the wights’ energy drain.
The wights stood up over the flayer’s corpse, eyes glittering with malice.
Of course since their touch couldn’t hurt the warforged, it only took him about forty seconds to pound them into motionless paste. The torn corpse of the flayer didn’t even last more than three seconds after it rose.
Orphan waited, listening for anything else coming out of the tunnel. Nothing. The only sound was Delegado’s soft breathing, and the grunts of K’gah as he sat up, armor clinking.
“You’ve got your mind back?” Orphan asked, eyeing the gnoll captain carefully.
K’gah grimaced and nodded. “I must apologize,” he began. “It was – there was a fog in my head, and you were the enemy. I was…” He trailed off.
“No apology necessary,” Orphan said. He moved forward and helped K’gah stand up.
“My men,” K’gah said.
“All dead,” Orphan told him. K’gah’s face crumpled in real pain, and then the gnoll captain strode forward to kick the flayer’s corpse.
Orphan used the opportunity to go to his half-orc friend and take Delegado’s waterskin. Splashing water woke Delegado up, and his any tears that might have come when he learned of the deaths within his House.
So the flayer mentally called K’gah to its side.
Which Orphan had been counting on.
Timing the turn perfectly, the warforged pivoted and threw the flayer towards the charging gnoll captain. The great blade spitted the flayer, and the alien thing squawked and spit forth purplish-blue blood from its tentacled maw. K’gah gasped at what he’d done, then fell to his knees, grasping his head in pain as the flayer shrieked anger directly into the gnoll’s brain.
And since the locked gauntlet kept K‘gah from dropping his blade, the immediate effect of K’gah dropping to his knees was to peel the flayer open like a pig at market.
Orphan sidestepped the shaking sword point and grabbed the mortally wounded flayer. He threw the thing from Xoriat at the wights. Weakened, the flayer fell to them quickly, falling to the ground as it wasted away from the wights’ energy drain.
The wights stood up over the flayer’s corpse, eyes glittering with malice.
Of course since their touch couldn’t hurt the warforged, it only took him about forty seconds to pound them into motionless paste. The torn corpse of the flayer didn’t even last more than three seconds after it rose.
Orphan waited, listening for anything else coming out of the tunnel. Nothing. The only sound was Delegado’s soft breathing, and the grunts of K’gah as he sat up, armor clinking.
“You’ve got your mind back?” Orphan asked, eyeing the gnoll captain carefully.
K’gah grimaced and nodded. “I must apologize,” he began. “It was – there was a fog in my head, and you were the enemy. I was…” He trailed off.
“No apology necessary,” Orphan said. He moved forward and helped K’gah stand up.
“My men,” K’gah said.
“All dead,” Orphan told him. K’gah’s face crumpled in real pain, and then the gnoll captain strode forward to kick the flayer’s corpse.
Orphan used the opportunity to go to his half-orc friend and take Delegado’s waterskin. Splashing water woke Delegado up, and his any tears that might have come when he learned of the deaths within his House.
Tuesday, December 28, 2010
Chapter 10 – Part 16
Death and carnage awaited his eyes.
For a moment, Orphan’s mind was seized by terror as he thought Delegado was dead as well, but his friend was still breathing.
The half-orc bounty hunter was the only one in the chamber who was.
Well technically the flayer breathed, but Orphan would remedy that. The flayer hadn’t heard the warforged monk, concentrating intently on controlling the few remaining thralls in the tunnel – who apparently were being finished off by something that had been protected by bursts of fire and lightning.
All dead. Everyone who came with them. Save for Delegado.
And K’gah, the gnoll would be coming around the corner with his huge sword in moments.
Perfect.
Orphan dashed forward, leapt, and slammed both feet into the flayer’s back. The thing shrieked in pain, even its resistance to wounds couldn’t wholly block out a double blunt trauma to its spine.
Orphan fell atop the thing, and snaked his arms behind its inhuman neck. The flayer wriggled and tried to bring its tentacles to bear, but Orphan was behind it. “Not so tough when someone has the drop on you, eh?” Orphan crowed.
Shuffling footsteps made Orphan glance to the tunnel. One of the gnolls was shambling forward. Its flesh was white and desiccated, and it was accompanied by an undead thing that had eaten its life-force and changed it.
Wight, the headband noted mechanically. Damage resistant to non-magical attacks. Drains life force with a touch. Creates spawn. Warforged likely are immune.
But a sleeping Delegado wasn’t.
For a moment, Orphan’s mind was seized by terror as he thought Delegado was dead as well, but his friend was still breathing.
The half-orc bounty hunter was the only one in the chamber who was.
Well technically the flayer breathed, but Orphan would remedy that. The flayer hadn’t heard the warforged monk, concentrating intently on controlling the few remaining thralls in the tunnel – who apparently were being finished off by something that had been protected by bursts of fire and lightning.
All dead. Everyone who came with them. Save for Delegado.
And K’gah, the gnoll would be coming around the corner with his huge sword in moments.
Perfect.
Orphan dashed forward, leapt, and slammed both feet into the flayer’s back. The thing shrieked in pain, even its resistance to wounds couldn’t wholly block out a double blunt trauma to its spine.
Orphan fell atop the thing, and snaked his arms behind its inhuman neck. The flayer wriggled and tried to bring its tentacles to bear, but Orphan was behind it. “Not so tough when someone has the drop on you, eh?” Orphan crowed.
Shuffling footsteps made Orphan glance to the tunnel. One of the gnolls was shambling forward. Its flesh was white and desiccated, and it was accompanied by an undead thing that had eaten its life-force and changed it.
Wight, the headband noted mechanically. Damage resistant to non-magical attacks. Drains life force with a touch. Creates spawn. Warforged likely are immune.
But a sleeping Delegado wasn’t.
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
Chapter 10 - Part 15
Orphan got to the top, and began taunting K'gah some more. He'd surmised that the flayer hadn't exactly turned the gnoll into a drooling puppet, there was something of the gnoll captain's real thoughts still active.
And no gnoll became a leader of its kind by letting challenges go unheeded.
"Afraid of heights!" the warforged barked in orc. "Afraid to climb!"
K'gah snarled and came up, slowly, stumbling in his heavy armor. "I will end you!" the gnoll captain growled.
Orphan waited until K'gah was halfway up, then tumbled past the startled gnoll with a handspring. K'gah spat an oath and turned to follow, but Orphan was already in the temple before the gnoll even managed to turn around.
And no gnoll became a leader of its kind by letting challenges go unheeded.
"Afraid of heights!" the warforged barked in orc. "Afraid to climb!"
K'gah snarled and came up, slowly, stumbling in his heavy armor. "I will end you!" the gnoll captain growled.
Orphan waited until K'gah was halfway up, then tumbled past the startled gnoll with a handspring. K'gah spat an oath and turned to follow, but Orphan was already in the temple before the gnoll even managed to turn around.
Monday, December 13, 2010
Chapter 10 - Part 14
Orphan ducked, dodged, and generally quit attacking. His sole focus was on parrying the lethal blows of the gnoll captain. Not for the first time he wished deeply for the defending kama that he'd lost to the rakshasa under the Wastes.
He kept darting backwards, trying to find a way to bolt around K'gah, but the gnoll captain was too canny.
Orphan then turned and fled, following the tunnel down, then left and up. K'gah couldn't move as fast as him, and from the air patterns he'd felt, the monk was sure that the tunnel would lead him back and around to the main cavern they'd first entered. The warforged figured he had to take the flayer out before K'gah would come to his senses.
Of course if the flayer was giving mental commands to K'gah, the gnoll might have doubled back as well to lay an -
Orphan ducked as he popped out of the tunnel, rolling forward in a ball, and K'gah's sword swished through the air where the warforged's head had been.
"Ambush," Orphan muttered, jumping to his feet and bolting to the left. K'gah was again between the monk and the temple chamber. Rather than go to the right, back outside, or behind him to the tunnels, to the left was a rock outcropping, a fairly steep incline up, maybe 8 or 9 feet.
He had to get K'gah to follow, to move away from the doorway to the temple.
He kept darting backwards, trying to find a way to bolt around K'gah, but the gnoll captain was too canny.
Orphan then turned and fled, following the tunnel down, then left and up. K'gah couldn't move as fast as him, and from the air patterns he'd felt, the monk was sure that the tunnel would lead him back and around to the main cavern they'd first entered. The warforged figured he had to take the flayer out before K'gah would come to his senses.
Of course if the flayer was giving mental commands to K'gah, the gnoll might have doubled back as well to lay an -
Orphan ducked as he popped out of the tunnel, rolling forward in a ball, and K'gah's sword swished through the air where the warforged's head had been.
"Ambush," Orphan muttered, jumping to his feet and bolting to the left. K'gah was again between the monk and the temple chamber. Rather than go to the right, back outside, or behind him to the tunnels, to the left was a rock outcropping, a fairly steep incline up, maybe 8 or 9 feet.
He had to get K'gah to follow, to move away from the doorway to the temple.
Chapter 10 - Part 13
Preshma hadn't always been an adept. He'd been a warrior first, and then later felt the calling to bring the struggle for life that Balinor exemplified to those who needed to hear - whether they knew they needed to hear or not.
House Tharashk had paid him handsomely for his services, and Preshma hadn't complained that those services took him so far from the Marches. The druids had a lock on the faithful there in any event, making it hard for a battle adept to make a living.
Now he'd come to some stone room underground, with a bunch of filthy gnolls and one of the little forest rats. Preshma didn't care for any who were not orcs (he felt that humans were a type of orc), although he had to admit that Delegado's golem friend was a decent sort.
When the mental pain blasted him to the floor, he'd realized what was happening. It took maybe a minute and a-half for him to process again, and he saw dead bodies, heard fighting, as the thing from Xoriat walked about unopposed, and glassy-eyed orcs and gnolls stood up to be its puppets.
Preshma turned his head just so slightly, and saw Delegado's eyes open, then close as the alien thing forced the half-orc unconscious again.
Preshma waited, thinking nothing that could get him noticed. He did see that the others in the party that had been adepts or held religious symbols of any kind were already dead. One was missing the back of his head, and the others had been sent down the tunnel that was making exploding sounds.
I'm alive because I fell forward onto my symbol, and because my armor makes me appear to be a simple warrior, Preshma realized.
Preshma hesitated. He didn't have too many spells, truth be told he wasn't a very powerful adept. But he knew one that might help Delagado.
Preshma rolled over and poured vigor and life into the half-orc. He saw Delegado's eyes twitch behind their eyelids.
The adept felt a surge of joy, and he rose to his feet with a whooping cry. Together he and Delegado would take on the thing from Xoriat, and be sung as victorious heroes, treated with wine, women and song!
The two gnoll thralls, utter puppets of the mind-flayer, cut the adept to pieces with three powerful blows, before he'd finished rising to his feet.
House Tharashk had paid him handsomely for his services, and Preshma hadn't complained that those services took him so far from the Marches. The druids had a lock on the faithful there in any event, making it hard for a battle adept to make a living.
Now he'd come to some stone room underground, with a bunch of filthy gnolls and one of the little forest rats. Preshma didn't care for any who were not orcs (he felt that humans were a type of orc), although he had to admit that Delegado's golem friend was a decent sort.
When the mental pain blasted him to the floor, he'd realized what was happening. It took maybe a minute and a-half for him to process again, and he saw dead bodies, heard fighting, as the thing from Xoriat walked about unopposed, and glassy-eyed orcs and gnolls stood up to be its puppets.
Preshma turned his head just so slightly, and saw Delegado's eyes open, then close as the alien thing forced the half-orc unconscious again.
Preshma waited, thinking nothing that could get him noticed. He did see that the others in the party that had been adepts or held religious symbols of any kind were already dead. One was missing the back of his head, and the others had been sent down the tunnel that was making exploding sounds.
I'm alive because I fell forward onto my symbol, and because my armor makes me appear to be a simple warrior, Preshma realized.
Preshma hesitated. He didn't have too many spells, truth be told he wasn't a very powerful adept. But he knew one that might help Delagado.
Preshma rolled over and poured vigor and life into the half-orc. He saw Delegado's eyes twitch behind their eyelids.
The adept felt a surge of joy, and he rose to his feet with a whooping cry. Together he and Delegado would take on the thing from Xoriat, and be sung as victorious heroes, treated with wine, women and song!
The two gnoll thralls, utter puppets of the mind-flayer, cut the adept to pieces with three powerful blows, before he'd finished rising to his feet.
Chapter 10 - Part 12
Orphan flung himself backwards before K'gah could saw the blade to the side, and he fell back towards the mouth of a tunnel he had previously explored before they'd opened the secret door to the worship area. The monk stumbled, and K'gah darted forward, pressing his advantage.
Orphan wanted to get around K'gah to get into the worship area and fight the flayer, but could not. The warforged fell backwards, somersaulting down the tunnel while he used his monk powers to close the worst of the wounds to his frame.
"Slow and foolish, K'gah is!" Orphan shouted in orc. "His prey always escapes!"
The taunt worked, K'gah snarled and pursued Orphan down the tunnel.
And assuming the warforged could find some place where it was possible to get around the gnoll captain, Orphan might even survive. Otherwise, they were all dead.
Orphan wanted to get around K'gah to get into the worship area and fight the flayer, but could not. The warforged fell backwards, somersaulting down the tunnel while he used his monk powers to close the worst of the wounds to his frame.
"Slow and foolish, K'gah is!" Orphan shouted in orc. "His prey always escapes!"
The taunt worked, K'gah snarled and pursued Orphan down the tunnel.
And assuming the warforged could find some place where it was possible to get around the gnoll captain, Orphan might even survive. Otherwise, they were all dead.
Chapter 10 - Part 11
Orphan dodged, then snaked in. He couldn't disarm the gnoll, not when its sword was so well affixed, but he could grapple him, maybe even pin the gnoll down long enough for Orphan to jump up and get around him.
K'gah didn't resist when Orphan put a wrestling hold on the gnoll. A second later Orphan found out why.
The gnoll spoke a command word in its own harsh language, and spike suddenly grew out of its plate mail, piercing Orphan.
The warforged let go and fell back, unable to stop himself from barking out an exclamation of pain.
K'gah chuckled, the gnoll in him delighted at his opponent's agony. Then the gnoll captain drove his great blade forwad and pierced Orphan like a spitted hog.
K'gah didn't resist when Orphan put a wrestling hold on the gnoll. A second later Orphan found out why.
The gnoll spoke a command word in its own harsh language, and spike suddenly grew out of its plate mail, piercing Orphan.
The warforged let go and fell back, unable to stop himself from barking out an exclamation of pain.
K'gah chuckled, the gnoll in him delighted at his opponent's agony. Then the gnoll captain drove his great blade forwad and pierced Orphan like a spitted hog.
Chapter 10 - Part 10
Get up, Delegado told himself.
But his body didn't listen.
He watched the mind-flayer move about, his brain not processing what he was seeing. It was like he was drunk - very drunk - nothing made sense.
He could not make his body move. The floor was cold.
K'gah was in the doorway, trying to kill Orphan, or at least trying to keep him from coming into this temple.
"Orphan," whispered the half-orc. It was a tremendous effort just to make his lips move. The sound was almost a nothing.
MOVE! Delegado insisted to himself mentally.
His leg twitched, but that was it.
The mind-flayer bent down and wrapped its tentacles around Nebly's head. The gnome's eyes shuddered as he died, but he did not scream.
It's killing its spy, Delegado realized. Or maybe not a spy, Nebly seemed to be a dupe.
That thought rustled away as the mind-flayer turned around, eying the prone figures. Delegado knew that he had best not draw attention to himself.
The mind-flayer's tentacles were dripping with gnome brain juice, it was disgusting.
There was a flash of heat, then a buzz of electricity. Magical traps. Mines, Delegado remembered. A Cyran army officer had once referred to magical land mines. They made the same noise when discharged. The Karrns had made a bunch of cheap zombies set the mines off so that their infantry proper could move in.
The men whose lives had been entrusted to Delegado's command were dying. Acting as the mind-flayer's zombies, clearing mines so that the Xoriat-cursed thing could get to - what?
Delegado finally got an arm to move, and began to push himself up.
No, came an oily, alien thought. Sleep.
Delegado lost consciousness.
But his body didn't listen.
He watched the mind-flayer move about, his brain not processing what he was seeing. It was like he was drunk - very drunk - nothing made sense.
He could not make his body move. The floor was cold.
K'gah was in the doorway, trying to kill Orphan, or at least trying to keep him from coming into this temple.
"Orphan," whispered the half-orc. It was a tremendous effort just to make his lips move. The sound was almost a nothing.
MOVE! Delegado insisted to himself mentally.
His leg twitched, but that was it.
The mind-flayer bent down and wrapped its tentacles around Nebly's head. The gnome's eyes shuddered as he died, but he did not scream.
It's killing its spy, Delegado realized. Or maybe not a spy, Nebly seemed to be a dupe.
That thought rustled away as the mind-flayer turned around, eying the prone figures. Delegado knew that he had best not draw attention to himself.
The mind-flayer's tentacles were dripping with gnome brain juice, it was disgusting.
There was a flash of heat, then a buzz of electricity. Magical traps. Mines, Delegado remembered. A Cyran army officer had once referred to magical land mines. They made the same noise when discharged. The Karrns had made a bunch of cheap zombies set the mines off so that their infantry proper could move in.
The men whose lives had been entrusted to Delegado's command were dying. Acting as the mind-flayer's zombies, clearing mines so that the Xoriat-cursed thing could get to - what?
Delegado finally got an arm to move, and began to push himself up.
No, came an oily, alien thought. Sleep.
Delegado lost consciousness.
Chapter 10 - Part 9
Orphan quickly realized a few things.
First, it was highly unlikely that he could defeat K'gah through conventional means. The gnoll captain was regarded by everyone in Blood Crescent as one of the best swordsman anyone had ever seen. Being a good warrior physically didn't mean one was a good warrior mentally, obviously. But Orphan would end up just as dead from K'gah's blade whether the gnoll knew what he was doing or not.
Second, the alien thing (flayer? - the headband wasn't that familiar) knew what it was doing, and knew its prey. Orphan now noticed rings on its hands and a rod in its belt, likely one or more had enabled the flayer to stay unseen while it stalked the party of orcs and gnolls. The flayer must have manipulated everyone into coming here.
Third, Orphan seemed to be the only one who was able to resist the flayer's mental abilities. While he dodged K'gah's blade, and attempted to get in a few kicks of his own, he could see the alien thing causing the orcs and gnolls to stand up and begin exploring the worship chamber.
K'gah didn't let Orphan into the chamber of course. And the chains on his wrist kept Orphan's sai from stealing the blade away.
Long seconds went by while K'gah successfully guarded the door, and the flayer began to send the mind-enslaved gnolls and orcs marching to the opposite side of the chamber, to the tunnel that lay to the right of the mural.
The traps were still enabled, and with bright flashes the helpless gnolls and orcs began to discharge them.
They didn't even scream, but their bodies did begin to make it safe for the flayer.
Which, Orphan realized, had been the point of the entire thing.
First, it was highly unlikely that he could defeat K'gah through conventional means. The gnoll captain was regarded by everyone in Blood Crescent as one of the best swordsman anyone had ever seen. Being a good warrior physically didn't mean one was a good warrior mentally, obviously. But Orphan would end up just as dead from K'gah's blade whether the gnoll knew what he was doing or not.
Second, the alien thing (flayer? - the headband wasn't that familiar) knew what it was doing, and knew its prey. Orphan now noticed rings on its hands and a rod in its belt, likely one or more had enabled the flayer to stay unseen while it stalked the party of orcs and gnolls. The flayer must have manipulated everyone into coming here.
Third, Orphan seemed to be the only one who was able to resist the flayer's mental abilities. While he dodged K'gah's blade, and attempted to get in a few kicks of his own, he could see the alien thing causing the orcs and gnolls to stand up and begin exploring the worship chamber.
K'gah didn't let Orphan into the chamber of course. And the chains on his wrist kept Orphan's sai from stealing the blade away.
Long seconds went by while K'gah successfully guarded the door, and the flayer began to send the mind-enslaved gnolls and orcs marching to the opposite side of the chamber, to the tunnel that lay to the right of the mural.
The traps were still enabled, and with bright flashes the helpless gnolls and orcs began to discharge them.
They didn't even scream, but their bodies did begin to make it safe for the flayer.
Which, Orphan realized, had been the point of the entire thing.
Monday, December 6, 2010
Chapter 10 – Part 8
Like most battles, the first few seconds set the tone for everything.
Grullik reacted first. The half-orc’s eyes bulged with the realization that something had been following them, unknown and unseen. He whirled into the doorway, both knives thrusting outwards after the psychic blast ended.
Neither knife found its mark. The thing on the other side of the doorway, tall and thin, with squid-like tentacles around its mouth, raised a hand, the flesh an alien, insane pigment, and a conjured disk of force blunted both weapons away. The thing leaned forward, its eyes promising an end to any that opposed it.
And the tentacles lashed into Grullik’s skull. The mustachioed half-orc barely had time to let out a gurgling scream before he fell backward.
Grullik’s skull was collapsed like an empty waterskin. His brain sucked out and gone.
The gnolls and orcs were staggered, stumbling like drunken sailors on a heaving deck. The psychic cone of energy had not gotten near Orphan, but he saw its effects. Even Delegado succumbed, his eyes glazed.
Orphan charged at the alien tentacle-headed thing, and lashed a kick that pushed through the conjured force screen, but barely bruised the creature. The warforged expected to at least crack a rib, but the thing’s hard flesh somehow resisted the blow.
The thing’s return attack was sudden pressure on Orphan’s mind. A black sea of water filled him perception, overwhelming his mind.
For a moment.
The mental training of the Balanced Palm was a singular hot flame that burned the black sea away, and freed Orphan’s mind from its grip. The monk spun and launched a flurry of fists and feet at the thing. His blows hit, if not as hard as they should, and the abomination backed up quickly into the entry chamber, away from the hidden temple.
Orphan felt something pass through the air, from the creature and then back into the room of stunned creatures. He advanced on the creature, swinging a high kick at its head.
Which did not connect. There was a ripple and the creature vanished. An inrushing crack of air told Orphan that it really had vanished, not just turned invisible.
Orphan turned, trying to listen for the creature. There was nothing.
The warforged spun and ran back into the temple area to help the fallen. Everyone was still staggered, except for K’gah.
K’gah was advancing on Orphan, with his sword drawn.
And his eyes were wrong.
Grullik reacted first. The half-orc’s eyes bulged with the realization that something had been following them, unknown and unseen. He whirled into the doorway, both knives thrusting outwards after the psychic blast ended.
Neither knife found its mark. The thing on the other side of the doorway, tall and thin, with squid-like tentacles around its mouth, raised a hand, the flesh an alien, insane pigment, and a conjured disk of force blunted both weapons away. The thing leaned forward, its eyes promising an end to any that opposed it.
And the tentacles lashed into Grullik’s skull. The mustachioed half-orc barely had time to let out a gurgling scream before he fell backward.
Grullik’s skull was collapsed like an empty waterskin. His brain sucked out and gone.
The gnolls and orcs were staggered, stumbling like drunken sailors on a heaving deck. The psychic cone of energy had not gotten near Orphan, but he saw its effects. Even Delegado succumbed, his eyes glazed.
Orphan charged at the alien tentacle-headed thing, and lashed a kick that pushed through the conjured force screen, but barely bruised the creature. The warforged expected to at least crack a rib, but the thing’s hard flesh somehow resisted the blow.
The thing’s return attack was sudden pressure on Orphan’s mind. A black sea of water filled him perception, overwhelming his mind.
For a moment.
The mental training of the Balanced Palm was a singular hot flame that burned the black sea away, and freed Orphan’s mind from its grip. The monk spun and launched a flurry of fists and feet at the thing. His blows hit, if not as hard as they should, and the abomination backed up quickly into the entry chamber, away from the hidden temple.
Orphan felt something pass through the air, from the creature and then back into the room of stunned creatures. He advanced on the creature, swinging a high kick at its head.
Which did not connect. There was a ripple and the creature vanished. An inrushing crack of air told Orphan that it really had vanished, not just turned invisible.
Orphan turned, trying to listen for the creature. There was nothing.
The warforged spun and ran back into the temple area to help the fallen. Everyone was still staggered, except for K’gah.
K’gah was advancing on Orphan, with his sword drawn.
And his eyes were wrong.
Sunday, December 5, 2010
Chapter 10 – Part 7
The gnolls and orcs came in behind Orphan as soon as the warforged gestured to them. Orphan was no dwarven trapfinder, but he was reasonably certain that worshippers didn’t trap their temple.
The came in, the orcs moving about in a loose knot, the gnolls forming a perfect arrow-shaped formation. Some carried hand-held weapons, spears and swords, some held bows or crossbows at the ready. All were primed for violence.
Nebly came next. And not willingly. The gnome let out a high-pitched shriek as Delegado suddenly grabbed him and hurled him through the doorway. The gnome hit the ground and lost a part of a tooth. The gnoll chief K’gah started with shock, then waved at his men. The gnolls quickly formed a circle around the gnome, who drew a small knife as he stood. Delegado strode through the doorway, followed by Grullik. The mustachioed half-orc twirled a long knife in each hand as he took a guard position next to the stone doorway.
Delegado stepped up to the circle of gnolls, who parted to make way for him. He stared at Nebly.
The gnome looked back over a forming bruise. “Do you have a reason for treating a loyal adviser so?” snapped the gnome.
“Stow it,” Delegado said. He spoke in the orc tongue. “This is too convenient for even a fool to swallow, and I am no fool. You knew of this place before we got here.”
“No!” protested the gnome.
Delegado looked at Orphan. “He’s lying,” the warforged said.
“Dancing Orphan hears untruths,” snapped one of the orcs. He was holding a heavy crossbow and he’d seen Orphan’s ability to read people.
“Delegado has the speaking now,” Grullik snarled. The orc with the heavy crossbow looked ashamed. Gnolls were showing better self-discipline than orcs were, and that was not a matter for Tharashk to feel pride about.
“The warforged is jealous of me,” Nebly said slyly. The gnome spit blood. “It makes up lies.”
“I am jealous of you,” Orphan said. “And it is foolish. But you did know of this place.”
“Put the knife away before we make you eat it,” K’gah growled. Delegado seemed unconcerned about what Nebly could do with the knife, but the gnoll captain’s contract had prices in it reflecting Delegado’s healthy return.
“I have done no wrong,” Nebly insisted. But he put the knife away. “I have gathered much knowledge in my life and my studies, and this is a place I have read well of.”
“He’s still lying,” Orphan said.
“Even the fiends have forgotten this place,” Delegado said. “What did you read and where was it written?”
Nebly swallowed and looked at the gnolls. “I – I don’t know. I just had the idea one day, and then as we traveled, I – it just occurred to me.”
The orcs tittered, as did those gnolls who spoke enough orc to follow what was being said. Delegado’s scowl deepened.
Orphan did not join the levity. “Delegado, he’s telling the truth now,” the warforged said. Delegado’s eyes snapped to Orphan. “He doesn’t know how he knew, the knowledge just came to his mind.”
No one moved for a moment.
Then the air rippled on the other side of the doorway as an invisibility field dropped. A cone of psychic force, so strong it made the air scream, bowled the gnolls and orcs over like straw before a windstorm.
The came in, the orcs moving about in a loose knot, the gnolls forming a perfect arrow-shaped formation. Some carried hand-held weapons, spears and swords, some held bows or crossbows at the ready. All were primed for violence.
Nebly came next. And not willingly. The gnome let out a high-pitched shriek as Delegado suddenly grabbed him and hurled him through the doorway. The gnome hit the ground and lost a part of a tooth. The gnoll chief K’gah started with shock, then waved at his men. The gnolls quickly formed a circle around the gnome, who drew a small knife as he stood. Delegado strode through the doorway, followed by Grullik. The mustachioed half-orc twirled a long knife in each hand as he took a guard position next to the stone doorway.
Delegado stepped up to the circle of gnolls, who parted to make way for him. He stared at Nebly.
The gnome looked back over a forming bruise. “Do you have a reason for treating a loyal adviser so?” snapped the gnome.
“Stow it,” Delegado said. He spoke in the orc tongue. “This is too convenient for even a fool to swallow, and I am no fool. You knew of this place before we got here.”
“No!” protested the gnome.
Delegado looked at Orphan. “He’s lying,” the warforged said.
“Dancing Orphan hears untruths,” snapped one of the orcs. He was holding a heavy crossbow and he’d seen Orphan’s ability to read people.
“Delegado has the speaking now,” Grullik snarled. The orc with the heavy crossbow looked ashamed. Gnolls were showing better self-discipline than orcs were, and that was not a matter for Tharashk to feel pride about.
“The warforged is jealous of me,” Nebly said slyly. The gnome spit blood. “It makes up lies.”
“I am jealous of you,” Orphan said. “And it is foolish. But you did know of this place.”
“Put the knife away before we make you eat it,” K’gah growled. Delegado seemed unconcerned about what Nebly could do with the knife, but the gnoll captain’s contract had prices in it reflecting Delegado’s healthy return.
“I have done no wrong,” Nebly insisted. But he put the knife away. “I have gathered much knowledge in my life and my studies, and this is a place I have read well of.”
“He’s still lying,” Orphan said.
“Even the fiends have forgotten this place,” Delegado said. “What did you read and where was it written?”
Nebly swallowed and looked at the gnolls. “I – I don’t know. I just had the idea one day, and then as we traveled, I – it just occurred to me.”
The orcs tittered, as did those gnolls who spoke enough orc to follow what was being said. Delegado’s scowl deepened.
Orphan did not join the levity. “Delegado, he’s telling the truth now,” the warforged said. Delegado’s eyes snapped to Orphan. “He doesn’t know how he knew, the knowledge just came to his mind.”
No one moved for a moment.
Then the air rippled on the other side of the doorway as an invisibility field dropped. A cone of psychic force, so strong it made the air scream, bowled the gnolls and orcs over like straw before a windstorm.
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
Chapter 10 – Part 6
Orphan came into the chamber first. It would have made more sense for one of the darkvision-equipped gnolls or orcs to take point position, but Delegado had asked him to enter, so he did.
The warforged felt nervous because the (relatively) loud bustle of the armed and armored group made too much background noise for him to be as aware of his surroundings as he would have preferred. He threw in a sunrod before he quickly somersaulted in.
The chamber was huge.
The warforged spun in place quickly, and took in the place. He was on a ledge that ran along three sides of what was a huge pentagon. Five stone pillars, built elsewhere and set in place it seemed, not natural rock, held up the vaulted ceiling. The place was maybe 40 feet across and twenty or so feet high. There were stone bumps on the floor, arranged around a central dais with an altar. He was near one of the points, and the wall opposite him had a mural made from small tiles. Most of the tiles were long gone, but it seemed that there had once been a depiction of a huge, bloated thing with large wings, horns, and a rod of some kind.
A worship place, Orphan realized. In a moment his headband filled in the details. A death cult. They worshiped undead here, but this is not the Blood of Vol. A fiend that styled itself Lord of Undead, apart from other fiends. His headband’s information ended there.
Whatever this place was, it was first used millennia ago.
But there was maintenance work. The warforged was a warforged, not a dwarf or one of the snake-headed stone masons of Droaam, but he could tell that this place had been maintained and used sometime more than a decade ago but less than a century.
Or maybe that was off, time acted oddly in the Wastes.
But someone had swept. Not a speck of dust lay on the floor. Someone had lovingly shined the altar.
Someone who may occupy the space to the right of the mural, where a tunnal entrance was poorly hidden.
The warforged felt nervous because the (relatively) loud bustle of the armed and armored group made too much background noise for him to be as aware of his surroundings as he would have preferred. He threw in a sunrod before he quickly somersaulted in.
The chamber was huge.
The warforged spun in place quickly, and took in the place. He was on a ledge that ran along three sides of what was a huge pentagon. Five stone pillars, built elsewhere and set in place it seemed, not natural rock, held up the vaulted ceiling. The place was maybe 40 feet across and twenty or so feet high. There were stone bumps on the floor, arranged around a central dais with an altar. He was near one of the points, and the wall opposite him had a mural made from small tiles. Most of the tiles were long gone, but it seemed that there had once been a depiction of a huge, bloated thing with large wings, horns, and a rod of some kind.
A worship place, Orphan realized. In a moment his headband filled in the details. A death cult. They worshiped undead here, but this is not the Blood of Vol. A fiend that styled itself Lord of Undead, apart from other fiends. His headband’s information ended there.
Whatever this place was, it was first used millennia ago.
But there was maintenance work. The warforged was a warforged, not a dwarf or one of the snake-headed stone masons of Droaam, but he could tell that this place had been maintained and used sometime more than a decade ago but less than a century.
Or maybe that was off, time acted oddly in the Wastes.
But someone had swept. Not a speck of dust lay on the floor. Someone had lovingly shined the altar.
Someone who may occupy the space to the right of the mural, where a tunnal entrance was poorly hidden.
Monday, November 15, 2010
Chapter 10 – Part 5
Delegado eyed the pivot as Nebly got the secret door open with a flourish. The others there either gaped in amazement (mostly the idiot gnolls), tried to keep their admiration hidden and failed (Grullik), or seethed in jealousy (Orphan). I’m probably the only one here who noticed the last one, Delegado thought.
When two huntsmen went into the wild for an extended period, and came back to a village where one was known and the other not…well, the unknown one of the pair usually resented it.
If the half-orc hadn’t been very quietly laying a trap for a gnome whose skills were just too perfectly convenient, he would have done something about it.
Well, maybe not. Sometimes orcs took displays of emotion as weakness. There was a good chance they hadn’t noticed Orphan’s discomfiture, and Delegado wasn’t going to risk Orphan’s standing by drawing their attention to the insecurity of a night-bland.
Delegado’s set his teeth against a snarl. He’d been watching the pivot deliberately so he had seen what he was looking for. It hadn’t turned as something that hadn’t been opened in millennia. It was too smooth.
Like something that had been opened maybe a week or two ago, after Orphan had killed the hag.
When two huntsmen went into the wild for an extended period, and came back to a village where one was known and the other not…well, the unknown one of the pair usually resented it.
If the half-orc hadn’t been very quietly laying a trap for a gnome whose skills were just too perfectly convenient, he would have done something about it.
Well, maybe not. Sometimes orcs took displays of emotion as weakness. There was a good chance they hadn’t noticed Orphan’s discomfiture, and Delegado wasn’t going to risk Orphan’s standing by drawing their attention to the insecurity of a night-bland.
Delegado’s set his teeth against a snarl. He’d been watching the pivot deliberately so he had seen what he was looking for. It hadn’t turned as something that hadn’t been opened in millennia. It was too smooth.
Like something that had been opened maybe a week or two ago, after Orphan had killed the hag.
Tuesday, October 26, 2010
Chapter 10 – Part 4
Orphan heard Grullik’s soft whisper, as the mustachioed half-orc called Delegado. Slipping easily past the gnolls and others, who stood nervously in a defensive box within the cavern, looking around at the shadows. Looking at everything except the two halves of the dead gnoll who had triggered the scything blade that had popped right out of the wall.
Orphan had dodged another such blade while trying to advance to the mouth of a tunnel that he’d hoped would carry echoes of any other creatures.
The passages underground were half-natural and half-carved, although one did not have to be a dwarf to see that the stonework was centuries old, if not millennia. Nonetheless the dust that was there was disturbed. This place had travelers if infrequent ones. Orphan had been trying to find evidence of such travelers when the scything blade had swung down.
The warforged had been faster than the gnoll. But it had come very close.
“No insects come for the blood,” hissed one of the orcs, gesturing to the bisected gnoll. “Evil this place is. Unnatural.”
“Quiet,” K’gah snapped. He said it in orc, as his warriors were not the ones making noise. The orcs grimaced at a gnoll telling them what to do, but they listened.
Orphan listened too. To Grullik and Delegado. Only he could hear them. The two were close by a wall that was clearly made of brick, if a faded, covered with dirt brick. “Right there,” Grullik was saying.
“Humanoid footprint,” grunted Delegado. “Bipedal, maybe 6 feet in height, too hard to tell the type. Doesn’t seem to be wearing footwear.”
“They don’t wear boots,” Grullik hissed. “I have taken Gatekeeper oaths, you know that, right? This is from an Xoriat being. See the way the heals indent forward, rather than backward? And they aren’t the squished gremlin things.”
“Xoriat? Here?” Delegado asked. “They don’t exactly get along with the fiends.”
Nebly suddenly slipped through the box of warriors to stand next to the two half-orc trackers. “There’s a secret door here,” the gnome said, excited. “But see the probing talon marks? The thing that you say bears aberration traits took a while trying to get in!” Nedly’s voice was pitched low, but louder than either half-orc.
And apparently he could hear almost as well as Orphan.
And the little jerk once again was impressing Delegado with an obscure bit of knowledge.
Delegado’s face went hard. No one sane wanted to deal with the aberrations. No one dealt with them very long and stayed sane.
The half-orc swung his head towards Orphan. “I need you, he whispered.
The warforged almost grinned openly.
Orphan had dodged another such blade while trying to advance to the mouth of a tunnel that he’d hoped would carry echoes of any other creatures.
The passages underground were half-natural and half-carved, although one did not have to be a dwarf to see that the stonework was centuries old, if not millennia. Nonetheless the dust that was there was disturbed. This place had travelers if infrequent ones. Orphan had been trying to find evidence of such travelers when the scything blade had swung down.
The warforged had been faster than the gnoll. But it had come very close.
“No insects come for the blood,” hissed one of the orcs, gesturing to the bisected gnoll. “Evil this place is. Unnatural.”
“Quiet,” K’gah snapped. He said it in orc, as his warriors were not the ones making noise. The orcs grimaced at a gnoll telling them what to do, but they listened.
Orphan listened too. To Grullik and Delegado. Only he could hear them. The two were close by a wall that was clearly made of brick, if a faded, covered with dirt brick. “Right there,” Grullik was saying.
“Humanoid footprint,” grunted Delegado. “Bipedal, maybe 6 feet in height, too hard to tell the type. Doesn’t seem to be wearing footwear.”
“They don’t wear boots,” Grullik hissed. “I have taken Gatekeeper oaths, you know that, right? This is from an Xoriat being. See the way the heals indent forward, rather than backward? And they aren’t the squished gremlin things.”
“Xoriat? Here?” Delegado asked. “They don’t exactly get along with the fiends.”
Nebly suddenly slipped through the box of warriors to stand next to the two half-orc trackers. “There’s a secret door here,” the gnome said, excited. “But see the probing talon marks? The thing that you say bears aberration traits took a while trying to get in!” Nedly’s voice was pitched low, but louder than either half-orc.
And apparently he could hear almost as well as Orphan.
And the little jerk once again was impressing Delegado with an obscure bit of knowledge.
Delegado’s face went hard. No one sane wanted to deal with the aberrations. No one dealt with them very long and stayed sane.
The half-orc swung his head towards Orphan. “I need you, he whispered.
The warforged almost grinned openly.
Monday, October 25, 2010
Chapter 10 – Part 3
They lost three warriors over the next hundred or so miles. A sandhole emerged from nothing as an air pocket burst, seizing a screaming gnoll into an instant grave. They all stopped for an hour and dug, but could not find the body. Two orcs died when they were doing a flank sweep and woke up a sleeping demonic snake-thing. Its venom turned flesh black and dead instantly, and if Orphan hadn’t distracted it, they would not have been able to kill the thing. While its fangs scored his body twice, its poison meant nothing to him.
They were now trackers, warriors, two adepts, a monk, and a gnome.
Nebly proved himself useful by entertaining the troops and consulting on old stones with odd designs. With his odd bits of knowledge, Orphan’s headband, and Delegado’s tracking, they found a small ravine in the Wastes, barely big enough for three horses, but large enough to conceal a brass door so weathered it seemed like part of the landscape almost.
Delegado was pleased with Nebly, given how the gnome’s tips and bits of trivia helped find the place.
Orphan found himself feeling jealous.
They forced the door open by brute force, and with a sunrod for the monk, headed into the darkness.
They were now trackers, warriors, two adepts, a monk, and a gnome.
Nebly proved himself useful by entertaining the troops and consulting on old stones with odd designs. With his odd bits of knowledge, Orphan’s headband, and Delegado’s tracking, they found a small ravine in the Wastes, barely big enough for three horses, but large enough to conceal a brass door so weathered it seemed like part of the landscape almost.
Delegado was pleased with Nebly, given how the gnome’s tips and bits of trivia helped find the place.
Orphan found himself feeling jealous.
They forced the door open by brute force, and with a sunrod for the monk, headed into the darkness.
Chapter 10 – Part Two
When they’d first headed out, taking advantage of the power vacuum created by the hag’s demise, they’d encountered nothing. Only on the second day, as the group picked up the pace, had things gotten interesting. A series of encounters with unnatural flora had slowed them as they avoided acidic sand and scattered rock fragments sharp enough to carve anyone’s feet, horse, orc, gnoll, or warforged, to ribbons.
Delegado kept any of them from getting hurt, of course, his senses were too finely attuned to the outdoors to allow it. But the sight of it raised everyone’s nerves. Everyone except Orphan. He felt good watching it. The more the half-orc absorbed himself in work, the less he would think about his losses. His father. Ois.
Especially Ois.
They had encamped at the end of the second day, and Delegado and the gnoll captain, K’gah was his name, were poring over terrain maps with the mustachioed Grullik. The orcs and gnolls made tents quickly and unloaded prepared firewood and food just as quickly. In the Wastes, if you were not disciplined, you were dead.
There was little for the warforged to do, really. If he tried to set up the camp he’d just be in the way. And as night fell he became almost a liability. The orcs and gnolls could see in the dark, and they only had the light of the fire for warmth. This gave Orphan little to see by. And the noise they made overwhelmed any ability of his to listen for intruders.
Orphan found himself with Nebly as company, and it didn’t take more than a few seconds of small talk before the gnome began peppering the Orphan with questions. Orphan would later learn it was called in ‘interview.’ It felt like a swarm of hyperactive bees made out of words.
“So Iron Dancer, or do I call you Iron?” Nebly began. “I was wondering – ”
“The orcs call me Dancing Orphan, I call myself Iron Orphan,” the warforged interjected politely.
“Right, you call yourself, no one gave you that name,” the gnome said, half to himself, as he pulled out a quill and parchment. The little humanoid frowned and then shook the ink bottle which had sludgy contents due to the cold. “So how did you get your independence? How do you feel about having an orc name? Did the orcs name you?”
“I named myself.”
“And did your maker let you name yourself or did you run away?” the little man continued. The quill flickered, as it conjured up ink for itself. “Did you leave your armor plating behind? Can other warforged take their composite plating off?”
Something made Orphan wary. This was more than the usual gnome curiosity. Nebly was trying too hard.
“Maybe I got the name when I was forged in the Mror Holds,” Orphan said. It would have been a bad lie, but he wasn’t trying to lie. He deliberately made himself sound sarcastic.
Oddly, after being around Delegado for so long, sarcasm was easy to mimic.
“No, you’re from –” Nebly caught himself. “Ah, somewhere west of there I think.”
“Nebly, go away,” Orphan said.
“Oh but Orphan!” Nebly protested. “I’m just doing my job, chronicling –”
Quick as a snake, Orphan’s hand darted out and seized the pen, which he then snapped between heavy fingers.
Nebly stared at Orphan, but not with shock or anger.
With a smirk that belonged on a chess player who is convinced that while this gambit failed, the next one will not.
Delegado kept any of them from getting hurt, of course, his senses were too finely attuned to the outdoors to allow it. But the sight of it raised everyone’s nerves. Everyone except Orphan. He felt good watching it. The more the half-orc absorbed himself in work, the less he would think about his losses. His father. Ois.
Especially Ois.
They had encamped at the end of the second day, and Delegado and the gnoll captain, K’gah was his name, were poring over terrain maps with the mustachioed Grullik. The orcs and gnolls made tents quickly and unloaded prepared firewood and food just as quickly. In the Wastes, if you were not disciplined, you were dead.
There was little for the warforged to do, really. If he tried to set up the camp he’d just be in the way. And as night fell he became almost a liability. The orcs and gnolls could see in the dark, and they only had the light of the fire for warmth. This gave Orphan little to see by. And the noise they made overwhelmed any ability of his to listen for intruders.
Orphan found himself with Nebly as company, and it didn’t take more than a few seconds of small talk before the gnome began peppering the Orphan with questions. Orphan would later learn it was called in ‘interview.’ It felt like a swarm of hyperactive bees made out of words.
“So Iron Dancer, or do I call you Iron?” Nebly began. “I was wondering – ”
“The orcs call me Dancing Orphan, I call myself Iron Orphan,” the warforged interjected politely.
“Right, you call yourself, no one gave you that name,” the gnome said, half to himself, as he pulled out a quill and parchment. The little humanoid frowned and then shook the ink bottle which had sludgy contents due to the cold. “So how did you get your independence? How do you feel about having an orc name? Did the orcs name you?”
“I named myself.”
“And did your maker let you name yourself or did you run away?” the little man continued. The quill flickered, as it conjured up ink for itself. “Did you leave your armor plating behind? Can other warforged take their composite plating off?”
Something made Orphan wary. This was more than the usual gnome curiosity. Nebly was trying too hard.
“Maybe I got the name when I was forged in the Mror Holds,” Orphan said. It would have been a bad lie, but he wasn’t trying to lie. He deliberately made himself sound sarcastic.
Oddly, after being around Delegado for so long, sarcasm was easy to mimic.
“No, you’re from –” Nebly caught himself. “Ah, somewhere west of there I think.”
“Nebly, go away,” Orphan said.
“Oh but Orphan!” Nebly protested. “I’m just doing my job, chronicling –”
Quick as a snake, Orphan’s hand darted out and seized the pen, which he then snapped between heavy fingers.
Nebly stared at Orphan, but not with shock or anger.
With a smirk that belonged on a chess player who is convinced that while this gambit failed, the next one will not.
Monday, October 11, 2010
Chapter 10 - Part 1
A COLD MEMORY
Around midnight, shortly before or shortly after, either the 15th or the 16th of Zarantyr, 994 YK, buried under a cave system in the southern part of the Demon Wastes, some fifty miles northwest of Blood Crescent.
Orphan stayed crouched behind the rock outcropping, eyeing the gnoll captain as he clanked around the cavern, trying to find a way up to the monk.
The warforged quietly flexed his limbs, testing their mobility. The attempt at wrestling with the gnoll had been a mistake. A harshly spoken word in an unfamiliar language had caused long, thorny bits of metal to seize upwards out of the armor. Had Orphan been a flesh creature, his blood probably would not have stopped pooling. Similarly an attempt to disarm the gnoll captain had nto worked, as the creatures halberd locked into its armor's wristguards.
"K'gah!" Orphan called out. "You have your own mind!" The gnoll snarled something in return. "Think for yourself, that thing got into your head!"
A ripple of something flitted past Iron Orphan’s mind, coming from the other cavern, the one where Delagado’s unmoving form lay. It had the slippery, wrong feeling that the thing from Xoriat had tried to use on Orphan’s mind earlier.
Orphan had not fallen to the stunning blast, but Captain K'gah had gone from being an ally to an enemy within seconds, and the surprised warforged had barely avoided being carved in two.
The gnoll was a dangerous warrior, the most dangerous fighter that could be hired for gold in all of Droaam.
And full plate armor or not, he was beginning to climb the incline.
Around midnight, shortly before or shortly after, either the 15th or the 16th of Zarantyr, 994 YK, buried under a cave system in the southern part of the Demon Wastes, some fifty miles northwest of Blood Crescent.
Orphan stayed crouched behind the rock outcropping, eyeing the gnoll captain as he clanked around the cavern, trying to find a way up to the monk.
The warforged quietly flexed his limbs, testing their mobility. The attempt at wrestling with the gnoll had been a mistake. A harshly spoken word in an unfamiliar language had caused long, thorny bits of metal to seize upwards out of the armor. Had Orphan been a flesh creature, his blood probably would not have stopped pooling. Similarly an attempt to disarm the gnoll captain had nto worked, as the creatures halberd locked into its armor's wristguards.
"K'gah!" Orphan called out. "You have your own mind!" The gnoll snarled something in return. "Think for yourself, that thing got into your head!"
A ripple of something flitted past Iron Orphan’s mind, coming from the other cavern, the one where Delagado’s unmoving form lay. It had the slippery, wrong feeling that the thing from Xoriat had tried to use on Orphan’s mind earlier.
Orphan had not fallen to the stunning blast, but Captain K'gah had gone from being an ally to an enemy within seconds, and the surprised warforged had barely avoided being carved in two.
The gnoll was a dangerous warrior, the most dangerous fighter that could be hired for gold in all of Droaam.
And full plate armor or not, he was beginning to climb the incline.
Friday, September 3, 2010
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
Chapter 9 – Part 20
The airship broke cloud cover. Instruments were checked, and barrel banks began to be unclipped. The gnome began adding barked commands to hand gestures, and the pre-sighted locations were mapped precisely along with wind speed and direction.
Down below on the ground, a Young Red peered up at the sky. What is that?
What’s separating from it?
Down below on the ground, a Young Red peered up at the sky. What is that?
What’s separating from it?
Chapter 9 – Part 19
“You didn’t use your mark to detect the poison?” the half-elven woman asked. She kept an eye out of the door crack while her conjured invisible servants carefully removed all forensic evidence that the prestidigitation spells had missed.
“I’d already used it up today,” Parnain told her. He could tell that she believed him. She was a very useful wizard, but her job was cleanup, not sifting lie from truth.
“You could show a little emotion,” she said, directing a pile of ash into a marked bag. The ash was all that was left of a red-haired half-elf, and it would be given a special burial rather than tossed in the general trash along with the other ash from the things that she had carefully incinerated. “He worshipped you, you know.”
“Yes, and that got in the way,” Parnain said coldly. He was expected to be cold, so it would serve his story.
Of course he really didn’t care anymore, so he wasn’t lying.
She shook her head, clearly disgusted. He sensed no fear in her, of course. It was a common belief in his House that he wouldn’t harm one of his own. “You need anything else from me?”
“River crossings,” he said. “East.”
“A changeling got away?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. “You want Anita’s Ford.”
“I thought that was summer only?” he asked her.
“The locals call it Phantom’s Crossing,” she said. “Maybe three alive know the secret of the crossing. Four if you count Oalian.”
“I’m guessing that the tree isn’t available,” Parnain stated. The unseen servants finished their work. Nothing remained in the room but the faint smell of something burnt.
“And two of the three are nowhere near here,” she said. “An old orc-blood watching a Gatekeeper seal, and a reclusive shifter prophet.”
Parnain pursed his expressionless lips and considered what he knew of people’s darker natures. “So…what’s the arms smuggler’s name?”
“Don’t hurt him permanently,” she laughed. “He buys from disaffected junior Aundair officers that have been passed over for promotion, and –”
“Name and location,” he interjected, cutting her off.
“I’d already used it up today,” Parnain told her. He could tell that she believed him. She was a very useful wizard, but her job was cleanup, not sifting lie from truth.
“You could show a little emotion,” she said, directing a pile of ash into a marked bag. The ash was all that was left of a red-haired half-elf, and it would be given a special burial rather than tossed in the general trash along with the other ash from the things that she had carefully incinerated. “He worshipped you, you know.”
“Yes, and that got in the way,” Parnain said coldly. He was expected to be cold, so it would serve his story.
Of course he really didn’t care anymore, so he wasn’t lying.
She shook her head, clearly disgusted. He sensed no fear in her, of course. It was a common belief in his House that he wouldn’t harm one of his own. “You need anything else from me?”
“River crossings,” he said. “East.”
“A changeling got away?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. “You want Anita’s Ford.”
“I thought that was summer only?” he asked her.
“The locals call it Phantom’s Crossing,” she said. “Maybe three alive know the secret of the crossing. Four if you count Oalian.”
“I’m guessing that the tree isn’t available,” Parnain stated. The unseen servants finished their work. Nothing remained in the room but the faint smell of something burnt.
“And two of the three are nowhere near here,” she said. “An old orc-blood watching a Gatekeeper seal, and a reclusive shifter prophet.”
Parnain pursed his expressionless lips and considered what he knew of people’s darker natures. “So…what’s the arms smuggler’s name?”
“Don’t hurt him permanently,” she laughed. “He buys from disaffected junior Aundair officers that have been passed over for promotion, and –”
“Name and location,” he interjected, cutting her off.
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