SESSION 17C: SHILUKAR’S NEW FRIENDS

March 9th, 2008
The 7th Day of Kadal in the 790th Year of the Seyrunian Dynasty

Shilukar stumbled back several steps, fumbling at his belt. As Tor advanced upon him, he whipped out a wand and waved it in his direction.

Tor’s mind was suddenly flooded with a sense of contentment and ease… and an absolute certainty that Shilukar was one of his closest and dearest friends.

Shilukar gave Tor a smile that was something closer to a leer, “There’s no need for us to fight, is there?”

Tor shook his head.

Agnarr, meanwhile, was making mincemeat out of the spider-things. The doorway had become spattered with gore and, in fact, the surviving creatures had turned and fled back into their cells – better to continue their vile imprisonment than to face that whirling flurry of death.

Ranthir, however, could see that something was wrong with Tor. “Agnarr! We need you!”

Agnarr turned and raced down the side corridor. Shilukar was fumbling his key into the lock of another door as the barbarian approached. Tor turned to face his friend, “Agnarr! No! He doesn’t mean any harm! He’s my friend!”

Agnarr wasn’t to be dissuaded, but even as he pushed past Tor, Shilukar waved his wand again… and Agnarr was charmed.

“Shilukar! My friend! I’m glad we found you! We need a cure that you carry!”

Shilukar grimaced as he turned the key in the lock. “What cure?”

Agnarr frowned. “But Lord Zavere told us you had it!”

Shilukar opened his mouth to respond, but was distracted as Elestra, Ranthir, and Dominic arrived. Ranthir’s hand lashed out, delivering a powerful enchantment that befogged Shilukar’s mind. The elf stumbled back, grasping his head. Instinctively he lashed out with the wand, attempting to charm Ranthir.

The attempt failed, but Ranthir – recognizing the enchantment – put a stupid smile on his face. “Shilukar? Why are we fighting?”

The bluff worked. But Ranthir’s entire distraction had not only befuddled Shilukar, but served its larger purpose: Elestra had slipped between Shilukar and the door.

“Amplifico Offundo!” (more…)

SESSION 17B: THE COMING OF SHILUKAR

March 9th, 2008
The 7th Day of Kadal in the 790th Year of the Seyrunian Dynasty

From around the corner (and out of sight) a fair voice cried out: “Fall back to me, Servant of Ravvan!”

But even as the command was given, Agnarr surged forward. His blade ripped brutally through the brute’s throat, trailing a gout of blood. The brute gave a gurgling cry, stumbled back, and fell.

The unseen voice muttered a bitter curse and then gave an arcane cry. Before any of them had a chance to react, a small dart of flame shot around the corner. Striking the wall it burst into a massive explosion.

The arcane flames passed quickly, leaving in their wake scorched flesh and smoldering garments. Ignoring these wounds, they rushed forward. Agnarr rounded the corner just in time to see a young and handsome elf hovering in the air and completing the incantation for a second time.

The others dived for cover as the second explosion roared around them, but Agnarr simply ignored the flames, charging forward and slamming his greatsword into the arcanist.

The elf spun away, blood gushing down his side. “You fools! You don’t know who you’re meddling with!”

Tee smirked. “I’m guessing we’re meddling with Shilukar, right?”

Shilukar cursed and waved his hand, disappearing instantly from sight.

Tee instantly whipped up her dragon pistol, firing blindly at where Shilukar had been. Unfortunately, the elf had already ducked away. “Agnarr!” she cried. “Hit the floor!”

Agnarr swung his blade high and cut down into the pulpy flesh. And from the wound a spray of blood burst forth, coating the walls and floor… and Shilukar.

Tor leapt between Agnarr’s legs, rolled to his feet, and swung away. But Tor’s blade met only air, as Shilukar – hurling epitaphs behind him – ran for the door at the end of the hall.

Tor moved to pursue, but was stopped by a cry from Ranthir: “Look out!” (more…)

SESSION 17A: SHILUKAR’S LAIR

March 9th, 2008
The 7th Day of Kadal in the 790th Year of the Seyrunian Dynasty

The clattering commotion of the dislodged debris echoed down the vertical tunnel. The six of them looked at each other.

“We should go quickly,” Elestra said. “Before whatever’s down there to hear the noise can respond.”

“Right,” Tee said, and swung herself over the edge and onto the wooden ladder.

Agnarr followed her, cracking a sunrod and sticking it into his backpack.

At the bottom of the stairwell, Tee found herself in a plain room of worn, dull gray stone. A solid door of iron was set in the far wall.

As the others descended, Tee approached the door and inspected it. It was quite sturdy, but she was able to make short work of the high quality lock. Easing back she let Agnarr step up to the door and open it.

Beyond the door the next room widened considerably. The sole exit from this room was a set of two iron doors marked with a bas relief of a large claw. Standing directly before these doors, however, were four emaciated figures. They stood with perfect stillness, their features obscured by charcoal-colored cloaks and hoods.

After a long, silent moment in which neither the strangely disturbing figures nor the wanderers moved, Tee drew her dragon pistol and fired a shot.

The blast of energy neatly clipped one of the figures, catching it in the shoulder. The reaction was immediate: All four of the figures threw back their heads with an eery, wailing ululation and darted forward, their hands lashing forwards with fingers ending in long, tapered claws.

The features revealed as their hoods fell back were those of goblins – but goblins possessed of sickly gray skin. More disturbingly, the eyes and mouths of each goblin had been sewn shut with thick, black string. Despite this, all of them moved with sure, fluid motions.

Tee fired again and then these strange, gray goblins were upon them. (more…)

SESSION 16D: ZAVERE’S NEED

January 19th, 2008
The 6th Day of Kadal in the 790th Year of the Seyrunian Dynasty

RIDDLES AND REST

Another day of delving had left them exhausted, bloody, and battered. But, thanks to Dominic’s faith and the power of the gods, not dead.

They were, however, in desperate need of rest. So they headed back to the surface, looking forward eagerly to the clean sheets and warm beds of the Ghostly Minstrel.

When they arrived, most of them staggered straight up to bed. But Tellith called Tee over to the front desk – she had received a letter. Cracking open the seal of purple wax, Tee saw that it came from Lord Zavere: He had heard from Mand Scheben and was concerned. He would like to meet with all of them in the morning, if it would be possible.

As she finished reading, Tee looked up into the common room and spotted Iltumar Shon nursing a drink. She was clearly the worse for wear, but she had been hoping to run into the young blacksmith’s apprentice for a couple of days now.

With a smile she came up behind him: “It’s an anchor.”

Iltumar jumped in his seat and twisted around to look at her. “Mistress Tee?! Wha–?”

“The answer to your riddle. It’s an anchor.” Tee caught Zade’s eye from across the room and signaled for a drink. Then she pulled out a chair and sat down.

Iltumar’s face split into a wide grin. “It is an anchor!”

“Now I’ve got one for you:

Of all my siblings, which I have many,
I am the number, wise old twenty,
I always wear my long thin hat,
And stand on one leg; I’ve never sat.
I’m last of the last, and last of the first,
I’m last of the best, and last of the worst.
Who am I?

(more…)

SESSION 16C: THE BLACK CENTURIONS

January 19th, 2008
The 6th Day of Kadal in the 790th Year of the Seyrunian Dynasty

Congratulations rained down on Dominic. Agnarr pounded him on the back with his blood-slicked hand. (Prompting Dominic to give him something of an uncertain look.)

With jubilance still in the air, Tee went back to work on the door. She quickly had it unlocked and Agnarr stepped forward to swing it open.

Beyond the door there was, as they had suspected, a short hallway that emptied out into the room with the pool. (The glowgems from that large chamber were casting their eery silvery light down the length of the hall.) But there were also four other hallways heading off in perpendicular directions.

They proceeded cautiously: Heading to the first intersection, Tee looked both left and right. She discovered two antechambers similar to those in which they had found the black cords and broken machinery… only these were occupied.

In each of the small rooms, a humanoid construct of pitch black metal was suspended from an elaborate half-cocoon of complicated machinery that hung from the wall. Each construct was utterly featureless – their faces flat black planes. And, Tee realized, the constructs were actually hovering inside their cocoons – the only connection a slack black cord that plugged into the back of their necks.

Ranthir had never seen anything like them. In fact, even the metal from which they were crafted defied his ken. He moved into the room on the left to take a closer look. Tee and Agnarr positioned themselves in the room across the hall, keeping a nervous eye on the construct there. Elestra and Tor stayed back in the torture chamber, but Dominic came down and stood in the hall between the two rooms – looking towards each in turn.

Unfortunately, no one went to check on the next set of hallways. There had been a cursory discussion, but the decision was made that they should make sure that these first two chambers were secure before attempting to advance. But the next hallway was only ten feet away, and so there was little or no warning when one of the black centurions suddenly raced around the corner with seemingly preternatural and silent speed.

Dominic caught the flash of movement from the corner of his eye and whirled in time to see the centurion’s arm transforming – literally melding itself into a long, pointed spear. He stumbled back and opened his mouth to cry out, but then the creature was upon him. The spear flashed out towards his abdomen, and Dominic only barely managed to turn aside so that the blow ripped into his flesh instead of disemboweling him completely.

Dominic retreated. The centurion pursued, its arm transforming again – this time into a sword that hacked down mercilessly towards Dominic’s head. Dominic cringed before the blow— (more…)