SESSION 34C: BACK IN THE TOWER AGAIN

January 5th, 2009
The 18th Day of Kadal in the 790th Year of the Seyrunian Dynasty

THE DWARF AND THE RATS

An unnoticed door down the northwestern passage swung open. Agnarr and Ranthir were the only ones who could see a bald dwarf with a bushy black beard and eyebrows emerge. He was muttering under his breath as he circled around the melee raging in the middle of the chamber and ran towards the partially excavated building.

The others were distracted by the quasit, who had reappeared once again and attacked Tee, poisoning her just as it had Elestra. Agnarr did his best to cut the dwarf off, but the thralls were blocking him.

The dwarf wrenched open the door of the building. “Rouse yourselves! Get out here and fight!”

“We only take orders from Gavele, dwarf!”

“Gavele is dead you fools!”

Agnarr wasn’t sure what to do. He was still facing two of the thralls and now there were unknown reinforcements coming. He tried to cheer himself with the thought that Gavele’s men – whoever they might be – would be frightened off by the news of her death.

It was a thin hope, but a better one was coming: Tor returned, charging into the flank of the thralls.

The charge came close to routing them, but then a ratling and a ratbrute emerged from the building. The ratbrute was unslinging a greatsword of leviathan proportions while the ratling lowered another of the dilapidated dragon rifles and—

“Two hundred gold pieces for each of you if you attack the dwarf instead!” Dominic was still struggling in the goopy web, but he shouted out the offer in a voice laced with sincerity.

The ratling hesitated. Then he turned to his companion with a sly grin. “I never liked that dwarf anyway.”

The ratling started to lower his rifle and turned back towards the building.

“TRAITOR!” the ratbrute cried in a thick, lumbering voice. It brought its greatsword crashing down towards the smaller ratling, who barely managed to turn the skull-crushing blow into a merely laming shoulder wound.

The ratling stumbled back, shooting at the ratbrute with his rifle. The shot went wild, but a second shot – coming from the interior of the building – struck the ratbrute in the chest. The stench of burning rat fur filled the air.

MEANWHILE, IN THE TOWER…

Elestra had freed herself from the webs and moved to help cut Tee from hers. But the quasit reappeared again, its vicious claws slashing at her legs.

Ranthir drew his crossbow and fired at it, but it was too small and too quick. Elestra, however, managed to stab it with her rapier. It clutched at its chest, hissed at her, and disappeared.

“It won’t be gone long!” Ranthir cried. “It’s a quasit and the wound was already healing.”

“A whatsit?” Elestra asked.

“A quasit,” Ranthir said. “A minor demonling.”

Tee, meanwhile, had finished cutting herself free. She and Elestra turned their attention to the ceiling and started firing at the spider-thing.

But Ibulli was weaving her spells again. A twisting pattern of subtle, shifting colors erupted from the air in a hypnotic dance of multi-colored light. Tee wrenched her eyes away from it, but Elestra’s gaze became arrested by the display – she stood helpless, swaying gently from side to side.

Ibulli seized the distraction to scuttle back into the safety of the upper level of the tower.

RATBRUTE MELEE

While the ratmen had fought amongst themselves, Tor and Agnarr had managed to finish off the venom-shaped thralls. Now, however, another of the ratbrutes had pushed its way out of the partially excavated building.

Meanwhile, the dwarf had reappeared on the roof of the building. He summoned another of the flame-eyed rats and used it to harry Tor while the ratbrutes moved in from the other direction.

Agnarr turned and raced towards the building, trying to leap up to where the dwarf stood. He came up short, jumped again, and this time managed to grab onto the edge of the roof.

The dwarf, seeing him coming, ran down the length of the building and jumped off, landing behind the ratbrutes. Yanking out a scroll he used its magicks to heal the wounds that Tor had been inflicting on the ratbrutes.

Agnarr shrugged and dropped back down to the floor of the cavern. He ran down along the length of the building, trying to circle the ratbrutes and reach the dwarf.

Unfortunately, at that very moment, one of the brutes cut through Tor’s defenses and ripped open a gaping wound in his chest. In a spray of blood it carried its swing around and struck Agnarr in the back, opening a huge gash across the barbarian’s already abused shoulders and sending him stumbling forward. As a result, Agnarr’s own swing went wild and the dwarf was able to retreat back down the wide hallway running to the south.

BACK IN THE TOWER AGAIN

Tee slapped Elestra out of her hypnotic trance and then headed for the door.

“Tee! Wait!” Elestra called. “Help me finish off the whatsit!”

The quasit popped out of thin air and raked at Elestra’s throat, sending blood pouring down her chest. It hissed with a sneer. “Don’t call me a whatsit!”

Tor retreated back into the tower. Dominic, having finally freed himself from Ibulli’s web, infused him with a wash of divine energy that closed his wounds and soothed his battered limbs and then sent him back into the fight outside.

Ibulli flew down from above.

“She’s flying now!” Elestra cried. “That’s not fair!”

THE BATTLE TURNS AGAINST THEM

Tee, now outside the tower, levitated into the air and tried taking potshots at the ratbrutes… but the dwarf, having safely retreated down the hall from the melee but still with a clear line of sight, started summoning fiery-eyed hawks with metallic, razor-sharp feathers to harry her. Their cruel beaks and claws took bloody gouges of flesh out of her.

Ranthir, seeing that Tor and Agnarr were both badly wounded and struggling against the ratbrutes outside, poured an invisibility potion down Dominic’s throat. “Now go heal some people!”

Agnarr was knocked from his feet. Feeling Dominic’s invisible, healing touch, he tried to get back on his feet… and was knocked right back down again.

A few moments later, Tor managed to take down one of the ratbrutes, but the other – with a howl of rage – smashed his blade into Tor’s armor with enough force that he felt blood in his mouth. Tor managed to barely turn the next blow so that the flat of the ratbrute’s sword hit him instead of the edge (which would have decapitated him), but the blow still had enough force to knock him to the ground.

And then the ratbrute’s sword plunged down, pinning him to the blood-soaked dust.

Dominic, still invisible, left Agnarr’s side and hurried quickly to heal Tor before it was too late.

Meanwhile, back in the tower, Ranthir had been preparing himself to counter Ibulli’s magic. But instead of casting another spell, Ibulli swooped down at him. He stumbled backwards… but not fast enough. The creature’s venomous fangs closed on Ranthir’s shoulder. He collapsed, frothing at the mouth.

As Ranthir fell, Elestra managed to injure the quasit again… and, once again, it disappeared.

Running the Campaign: Ornate Chokepoints – Campaign Journal: Session 34D
In the Shadow of the Spire: Index

SESSION 34B: WEBS OF AMBUSH AND BETRAYAL

January 5th, 2009
The 18th Day of Kadal in the 790th Year of the Seyrunian Dynasty

A hideous, spider-like creature with a human-like head and face dropped onto the floor next to Agnarr. It landed softly on its skittering legs, then raised its front claws and sent a bolt of lightning lancing across the cavern – scorching Tor and Dominic, who had just begun to charge across the cavern.

The creature turned back towards Agnarr, but it had underestimated the barbarian’s speed. Agnarr’s greatsword opened a gash along one side of the creature.

Tee, recovering from the enchantment that had been laid on her, stood up—

And the door behind her was swung open. Before she had a chance to turn, a sword sliced painfully into her side and sent her spinning to the floor in pain. Turning she saw Gavele – the cultist she had seen breaking up the fracas over Reggaloch’s corpse – pulling back her blade with a grim smile.

Tor, scarcely slowed by the lightning that had seared him, reached the spider-like creature. He cut a gash along its other side, causing it to cry out. “Gavele! Help me!”

Gavele shook her head. “You’re on your own Ibulli!” She slammed the door shut – thwarting Tee, who had just bounded back to her feet once again.

“Damn you, bell bitch!” The spider-thing skittered up the wall of the tower.

Tee activated her magical boots and began floating up in pursuit, but Ibulli – seeing her – shot a gob of web at her, pinning her to the wall. A few moments later, Ibulli slipped away through a hole near the ceiling of the cavern and disappeared into the tower.

THROUGH THE TOWER

Meanwhile, below, Tor threw himself against the tower door and burst it open. The inside of the tower was bereft of interior walls with a floor of sandy, hard-packed dirt. A broken staircase wound its way around the inner wall of the tower, up to a trapdoor in the ceiling above.

By the time Tor burst in, Gavele had already crossed the entire tower (with seemingly preternatural speed). Tor and Agnarr raced to catch her, but she managed to wrench open the far door, slip through it, and slam it shut behind her.

But only a moment after the door was shut, Angarr was at it. Seizing the heavy metal ring, Agnarr ripped it open. Gavele – who had been trying to hold it shut while slipping a key into the lock – was wrenched off her feet. Tor, who was only half a stride behind Agnarr, cut her down where she stood.

Tor positioned himself in the open door, keeping a watchful eye on the large chamber beyond. This chamber had seemingly been formed by excavating the space between the tower and another ancient building. The excavation was incomplete, however, with only part of the lower building exposed from the wall. Several passages led away from the chamber – two to the north and one to the south. Flanking one of the northern passages were two statues carved to look like humans in robes but with translucent, smoky grey glass spheres in place of heads.

Everything within seemed still and quiet.

While Tor kept watch, Agnarr went back to help Tee. Stuck as she was, she had managed to get a rope out of her pouch, tie it around her waist, and drop it down to the floor below. Agnarr was able to climb up this and used his flaming sword to burn her free (giving her a little pain here and there as he did).

THRALLS & QUASITS

Once the web was burned away, it was an easy matter for Tee to safely levitate both of them back to the cavern floor below. They joined the rest of the group in the tower.

Before they had a chance to plan their next move, however, two venom-shaped thralls leapt from the roof of the partially excavated building and landed on the ground about twenty feet away. These were large, more muscular, and less recognizably human than their brethren above – clearly suffering from a more advanced form of the askara-induced mutations, which seemed to continue apace even after the victims had emerged from their cocoons.

Tor rapidly backpedaled through the door and slammed it shut.

“Agnarr!”

Agnarr quickly crossed the tower to Tor’s side.

And at that moment, Agnarr and Tor were suddenly filled with a supernatural terror. Agnarr managed to shake it off, but Tor – with a horrible scream – ripped open the door again and ran through it.

The thralls, perhaps surprised at the sudden going-and-coming, swung wildly at Tor ran past them and missed as he fled down an excavated tunnel to the northeast.

A high-pitched, cackling laugh filled the tower. Whirling to see its source, the others spotted two small, winged demons sitting on the staircase.

These quasits were laughing almost helplessly at the sight of Tor’s flight, and Agnarr – with a single bounding leap across the tower – cut one of them down before it had a chance to react. Tee took a shot at the other, blasting a large hole in its wing.

Whirling hate-filled eyes towards her, the quasit gave a sibilant hiss of pain and rage… and vanished.

Tor, meanwhile, had disappeared from sight. It was impossible to follow him, because the venom-shaped thralls were closing rapidly on the open door.

Agnarr stepped into the breach… and things turned frenetic. Blows of fang and claw came quicker than the eyes of the others could follow, but Agnarr turned each of them – deflecting some, absorbing others with cunning angling of his body and armor.

And then the seemingly impossible began to happen: Agnarr was driving them back, using their long reach against them by repeatedly stepping in close to their bodies.

Once there was enough of a gap, Seeaeti slipped around the thralls and, with the dog nipping at their heels, Agnarr was able to start landing some blows of his own. The others prepared to follow his lead through the door and engage.

THE RETURN OF IBULLI

But just as the tide was turning, a beam of purplish-black energy struck Agnarr in the back and the strength drained from his limbs. Ibulli had returned – slipping through the trapdoor at the top of the tower.

While Agnarr continued to hold the line against the thralls, the others – still within the tower – fell into a confused response. Tee fired, sending the spider-thing skittering across the ceiling. Ranthir backed away, but prepared to counter any more spells it might attempt. Dominic shouted out a warning to Agnarr.

Elestra raised her dragon rifle… and got a face full of web. Tee moved to assist her and found herself, once again, webbed in place.

The thralls, meanwhile, had become weary of Seeaeti hounding them and one of them turned towards the dog. Agnarr was out of position to defend him and he could only shout in outrage and concern as Seeaeti’s back was ripped to shreds. With a whimpering whine, Seeaeti twisted away from the thrall.

Dominic, hearing the hound’s howl, darted through the door. At the touch of his wand, the wounds on Seeaeti’s back slowly knit themselves back together. Seeaeti happily bounded back to his feet, turned towards Dominic, and licked him happily on the face.

THE RETURN OF THE QUASITS

Elestra started cutting her way out of the web. She’d only managed to free one arm, however, when the surviving quasit reappeared behind her. It clawed its way up her legs and back, leaving a trail of bloody puncture wounds that burned with a painful venom, before burying its fang-like teeth in the back of her neck.

Elestra cut at it futilely with her rapier, but it leapt away and – chittering with malevolent laughter – vanished again.

Dominic was still wiping Seeaeti’s slobber from his face when he heard Elestra cry out. He ran back into the tower. But, as he passed through the door, he, too, found himself stuck fast – another victim of Ibulli’s web.

Elestra was trying to finish cutting herself free, but the pain spreading from the quasit-inflicted wounds was growing more intense. The wounds themselves were rapidly inflaming with an intense, searing heat, but there was also a chilling shake spreading through her muscles. It was poison.

TOR TURNS AROUND

In his flight, Tor had emerged from the first passage into a roughly circular chamber. Into this chamber an underground stream flowed, pouring down into a large circular pit in the center of the chamber. He passed through this chamber and down another passage, finally coming to a stop – as his mind cleared – a short distance from an iron door.

Cursing loudly he turned and ran back towards the fight.

Running the Campaign: Faction v. Faction – Campaign Journal: Session 34C
In the Shadow of the Spire: Index

SESSION 33D: THE HELL HOUND AT THE DOOR

December 28th, 2008
The 18th Day of Kadal in the 790th Year of the Seyrunian Dynasty

They headed out the opposite door and found themselves in another hall with doors to both their left and right. Arbitrarily choosing the door to the left, Tee picked the lock. Agnarr kicked it open.

The room beyond was extremely untidy, with a fetid smell that seemed to peremeate everything. The simple furnishings were crude and ill-kept. A weasel-faced man lying on the far bed jerked awake as the door crashed open.

Agnarr hesitated for a moment, uncertain whether the man might be a prisoner or not (the door, after all, had been locked and the room stank). But then he noticed that there was a sword laying on the bed and the man had a dragon pistol strapped to his side.

Agnarr charged with Tee on his heels. They hoped to silence the man before he could say anything, but he dove adroitly off the bed and rolled to his feet, firing his dragon pistol. He started shouting for help.

Tor and Dominic, still in the hall, turned and headed for the door at the far end of the hall, throwing their weight against it.

Tee, meanwhile, circled to the side of the weasel-faced man. Her blade darted here and there, keeping the man’s blade completely engaged while Agnarr came up from the other side and delivered the killing blow.

Someone threw themselves against the door Dominic and Tor were propping themselves against. It barely budged. They glanced at each and made a quick, unspoken decision. Dominic stepped away and Tor, timing things perfectly, yanked the door open at precisely the right moment.

A young elf woman – ebon-skinned like Shilukar – came stumbling through, thrown off-balance by the sudden disappearance of the door she had been planning to throw herself against.

Dominic and Tor were quick to take advantage – the former’s mace crushing her upper arm and Tor’s sword cutting deep into her thigh. She stumbled further down the hall, shouting over her shoulder. “Theral! There are six of them! Grealdan’s dead!”

Dominic looked through the open door and spotted Theral – the Brother of Venom that Tee had seen discovering Reggaloch’s body – beginning to cast a spell. He promptly slammed the door shut.

Almost simultaneously, with a powerful sweep of his sword, Tor caught the dark elf woman in the side of the face – his sword cut through one cheek, passed through her mouth, and out the other side. Her severed jaw fell to the floor and her body followed after it.

They took a moment to collect themselves and then threw open the door again.

HELL HOUND AT THE DOOR

A hell hound was at the door!

Like the ones that had attacked them at Pythoness House, the hound’s skin was cooled lava and its gaping mouth was a lake of fire that gouted a cone of flame down the length of the hall.

Beyond the hound was a massive chamber, its walls painted in horrific combinations of kaleidoscopic color. On the far side of the hall they could see a set of wide stairs leading down. To one side of the room stood Theral. At first there appeared to be six others on the other side of the room, but then they realized that there was only one man there – Vocaetun, the cultist with an ebon hand tattooed on the front of his neck – his form blurred and duplicated a half dozen times.

Tor and Agnarr squared off against the hell hound, rapidly reducing it to a pile of slag-like magma.

Theral, seeing the body of the dark elf woman and watching the fighters demolishing his hound, cursed and then shouted to Vocaetun. “Hold them here while I fetch the damn rats!”

Theral ran off down a side corridor. Vocaetun glared at his retreating back.

As the hell hound finally collapsed, Vocaetun waved a wand in Tor’s direction and then disappeared. Tor felt his eyes burning as they filled with acid.

Elestra leaped over the magma pile and headed towards the hall that Theral had dashed down. Rounding the corner she skidded to a stop.

“There’s a wall!”

“Don’t believe it!” Tee shouted, remembering the illusionary wall that Uranik had spoken of.

But Elestra hesitated. She didn’t want to throw herself into the unknown without the others to back her up.

Then Tee screamed.

Vocaetun had reappeared and hit her with an acidic curse that turned her own tears to caustic acid, having somehow circled around in the meditative chamber behind them. But none of them could see that – not even Tee, who was now clawing at her burning eyes.

Ranthir, seeing Tee’s reaction, knew that it must have come from behind them. “Over here! Tee’s being attacked!”

The others closed in on Vocaetun, but between the mirrored images dancing around his figure, the blurring displacement that seemed to cheat their vision, the blinding attacks from his wand, and the tight quarters, things quickly got confused and cramped.

Vocaetun mounted a fighting retreat back across the meditative chambers into the hall on the far side and then through a secret door into the kaleidoscopic hall. He had been hurt and was clearly beginning to panic. Once he was through the secret door, he broke into a pell-mell run across the hall – heading towards the stairs on the far side.

Running the Campaign: NPC Spellbooks – Campaign Journal: Session 33E
In the Shadow of the Spire: Index