04/06/745 A.E. Sometime after midnight, continued.
Garren holds up his Continual Light rock, peeking past Gillmesh to where a fiery explosion just took place. The wave of heat could still be felt upon his skin, even at this distance, but the temperature was rapidly diminishing. "Is it dead, now?" he asked. Gill looked at him, then the room, then back again. "Et Damn well hea better be."
Seriously hurt from the flames and attacks of the Fireman, as they called it, a likely Fire Elemental of sorts, as well as hurt from previous traps, the party settled down to rest, perhaps to pray and give thanks no one had died. [Well, no one important ;-)] Thanks to the Fire Resistance potions that the three frontline members swallowed, Trekken, Gillmesh, and Sedoc only showed slight signs of fire damage, secondary burns at best.
Anne felt her throbbing hands, the pain of the fire still lingered, but she was happy at her latest acquisitions. Two spellbooks, perhaps those belonging to the departed wizard Mireus, now rested in her lap as she bandaged her hands. Too bad about the others, but it was what it was, and they were lucky to have those two. She looked at Garren, whom she knew would also be interested in the care of these valuable books. "I'll carry them for now," she said, calming his trepidation that she might consider them her personal property alone. "Of course you will," he replied, smiling at the potential power they would both soon be sharing.
Trekken rose to his feet after giving his customary thanks. "Thor was with us this day."
Yarr, the kobold warrior, glanced at the speaking holy warrior, wondering about the mysticism that seemed to surround such a human of profound faith and devotion, but he clearly saw the power of the man and was thankful his people did not make enemies with him or his comrades at arms.
Most party members now simply find a comfortable spot and settle down to rest and recover, waiting until their tired brains might be ready to accept the patterns of power, whether from faith or deep understanding of the universe, it didn't matter. They welcomed a chance to rest, even upon the cold, damp, uneven stone floor of this dangerous dungeon.
"Anyone have a dagger?" A few looked up to see Sedoc speaking, playing with the metal box they had discovered in the wake of the battle of flames. Janjit responded, "I lost a few of mine to the damned fire man-thing. Burned right up, they did, and they were so beautifully balanced, too." Gillmesh took one of his many thin stilettos and slid it across the floor to Sedoc, who then proceeded to pick at the seam of the box (but to no avail). Rattling it, he could hear it was not empty and was glad of that, but try as he may he could not pry it open, the seam so tight one couldn't get a razorblade inside of it.
Time passes, and 4 hours come and go; some magic spells are reacquired. Next, some badly needed healing occurs. Katsumi Yuriko begins practicing Katas, an elaborate Martial Arts training form that seems almost like an eerily elegant dance. Interested, many watch the graceful moves as she exercises her abilities, her lithe and nimble form speaking of incredible sexual possibilities, almost mesmerizing any who watch. Eventually, when she neared the door to the illuminated pool chamber, she thought she saw a hint of movement within. She stopped, looked, and then cautiously entered, trying to get close enough to see what lurked where the shadows and light played against each other in that eerie chamber. Inching forward, she drew her katana, preparing for the worse. "Damn pools," she thought, "their light is interfering with my infravision." She crept toward the shadowy figure.
"THUD!" a medium piercer hits right next to Kat, almost impaling her. Instinctively, she both whirled and simultaneously knelt, her blade sweeping the area where the noise had come from, putting her muscle into it and cleaning severing the piecer into two sections, killing it with one blow.
Sedoc was rather intent on the puzzle box, and Trekken's interests were there as well. Both Gillmesh and Garren, along with Anne and Yarr, had put some distance between themselves and the tinkering ranger, not wanting to be too near the box should the worst happen. Close to the door, they hear the THUD and subsequent CLANG of metal on the stone-like shell. They rushed in, despite the danger, to see what Kat had gotten herself into. Meanwhile, Kat stepped back and threw three shurikens at the moving form in front of her, a mighty roar issuing forth, and another piercer fell from above, this time almost impaling the Devil Hunter and nearly killing her. At seeing this, Gillmesh screamed, "Sonofabitch!" and this finally caught everyone's attention.
COMBAT BEGINS:
R1: Kat staggered back in pain and sliced at the rocky creature with far less grace than before, hurting the piercer, but not killing it. Janjit throws two daggers at the approaching shadowy form, missing it twice. Both Sedoc and Trekken ran to the door of the chamber, turned the corner, and quickly raced to the frontline where the battle was taking place. The bull man, a Minotaur, steps into the light so all could see him now, the lights gleaming off his double-bladed axe, its deadly attack aimed at the devil hunter. She let herself fall back, hitting the floor rather than letting the blade connect. It still hurt, such a move, but doubtlessly less than the alternative of letting the axe connect. The minotaur hissed, his nostrils flaring in anger since his first attack missed its mark. Gill fires three of his thin blades at the beast, hitting it twice. Garren came up from behind and healed Katsumi with a spell.
R2: Janjit sneaks around the creature's flank, moving silently, slowly, getting into position, directly behind the bull-like beast. Perhaps he would have been seen, except the bull-man was looking at Trek. "HAVE AT YOU, foul denizen of the deep, and may Thor smite your evil continence!" the holy warrior yelled at the top of his lungs as his blade barely scratched the minotaur. The beast advanced and raised his mighty axe, preparing to fell the wounded devil hunter, but Garren interposed himself and took the blow square on, seriously hurting himself but saving Katsumi. Using that moment's grace, shooting around Garren, Kat plants her katana deep into the ribs of the minotaur, the handle of her katana coming away from her grasp due to the awkward twisting-move she preformed, and the blade wedged solidly into the bones of the beast's ribcage. The bull man-thing looked mortally wounded, but it seemed too stupid to know it. Kat jumped back and took up a defensive stance. Circling, Gillmesh sees this opportunity and thrust his bastardsword up into the side of the lone foe, felling it, its blood running into the blue pool, turning it a slight shade of purple.
The noise subsided, and poised warriors and stealthy rogues relaxed as the danger passed and silence, like death, engulfed this underdark realm once more.
COMBAT ENDS:
During the battle, several piercers fell but hit nothing in particular. Not great on defense, and the threat from above considerably less now that the chaos of battle had brought them all down, the party makes short work of the sneaky piercers, hacking on them, killing them without exception, so they would no longer pose a threat to anyone.
Weapons are recovered, healing spells are cast, and rest is once more the order of business. Time passes, and they heal again. Gillmesh confers with Yarr and decides to send Yarr on ahead to alert his people to help them move things to the top. The party will bring them up the stairs to the armory, and the kobolds will haul them to the surface (in exchange for a small fee for them, and a fee for Yarr as payment as guide and back up).
Gill takes the opportunity to search the minotaur, finding the axe worthwhile, as well as a small map. Though there are no words on this map, it is a pictorial representation of the poolroom, where a safe path is indicated (probably places piercers will not drop onto due to the topography of the ceiling above), and 3 of the 12 pools are marked as somehow special or different (the pink, purple, and yellow ones).
Gill inspects the pink pool, tossing a copper coin in with a flash. His dagger tests the surface too, and then his finger. Perhaps only 12 inches deep, he spies some shape at the bottom. Finally thinking it safe, he reaches in and retrieves a plain, golden band; it's a ring. Sedoc inspects various pools, seeing their coloration is coming from strange luminescent mosses growing along the sides of the pools. One pool, dark in color, is surrounded by black moss. He thought he had once heard something about black moss, but he could not remember what. Probably that it was dangerous. He couldn't remember if that's exactly what he had heard, but many things were often mentioned in his early training for that very reason - 'They're dangerous, boy, he could almost hear it in his mind again. Not wanting to risk it, he left it alone for now.
Katsumi looks into the purple pool, seeing and eventually retrieving a large, metallic pile that turns out to be a suit of scalemail armor. Finally, Garren returns from his supervision of the kobold workforce and he inspects the yellow pool. He thrust his trident into the pool and a golden, yellow light shoots up the trident, following the trident back to its owner, the light playing over Garren's body before he can react. It dances across his body, playful and wispy, its tendrils running from head to toe, finally settling on his head. Then, without warning, Garren collapses, unconscious. The yellow light fades into nothingness. "Garren," cried Katsumi, rushing over to him and kneeling by his side, placing her hands upon his face.
A battle, long ago, the time so ancient it no longer matters, a struggle between opposing forces occurred. Tensions were high and hatred filled the air; Garren could feel the hatred with a burning passion and intensity he had only heard about but never experienced himself. The intense hatred would consume most men, but not Jamil; he would have none of it. If they were to win the day, if the battle was to snatch victory from the jaws of defeat, he had to keep a level head. Their bright banner would this very day grace the camp of the enemies from below - those stinking troglodytes, their murderous ways an abomination - he'd plant his banner in the very heart of their leader. All this, Jamil would do, if only he could control the burning madness of his rage. The images faded into bloody redness, the streams and rivulets of the crimson water of life spilling everywhere as the image faded.
Garren's eyes slowly opened and he sat up, his gaze coming into focus upon Kat's beautiful face. "I'm too young to have died all ready . . . , I can't be seein' angels yet." Kat breathed a sigh of relief when Garren said that; he seemed to be all right and still in his typical bardic form. He looked over at the yellow pool, its shimmering light no longer present; only a pool of plain water remained, ringed by gray moss.
"Some . . . guy . . . named Jamil, I think . . . A battle was fought here . . . , I saw it," said Garren. "What do you mean you saw it?" asked Kat. "How?" He stood up, taking her hand as she helped him to his feet. "I, uh, don't know. But I saw it, clear as day. That's all I know about it." Clearly, a mystery, but he would think about it later.
The wagon first, then the mirror, and then eventually the statue are taken to the top of the stairs into the armory. The kobolds move all of this except the statue, as it is too heavy for them, taking Trek's, Gill's, and Sedoc's muscles to struggle it up toward the surface. Eventually, all is above ground, free of the damp, moldy, mildew infested underdark.
Time is spent resting and talking to the kobolds. It took the better part of 12 hours to move even those few things up a flight of stairs, through several rooms, and finally up the muddy tunnel. Not a pleasant job, though the kobolds helped a great deal.
04/07/745 A.E. Sometime after midnight.
Yarr and Gill discussed payment, and though it was a mere pittance to the party, he left 100 GP ($10,000) for Yarr and his people, and the kobold warrior seemed very happy to get it. If ever they should continue to explore the depths below, the kobolds would be trusted allies. At those prices, they'd be fools not to be. The party hooked the wagon up to one of their horses and began to move out. They had decided to try to get to Little Falls as Anne and Kat had taken up residence there (in separate houses) and it was actually slightly closer than Alodar.
Traveling by night, since their rest patterns were slightly off their normal ones due to extended rest periods in the underdark, the party moved along a natural trail. After a few hours, Gillmesh spots a light in a distant tree, something reflecting from there. Odd. He pulls up the wagon and points it out the others. They decide to have a look. As they get closer, a large, 6-foot figure of an owl presents itself. Simon? Gillmesh tosses Garren the medallion with an owl inscribed on it that they had found weeks before near the battle with the phase spider. Garren catches it, and then moves forward. "Is that you, Simon?" The owl cocks his head and looks at Garren quizzically. Gillmesh undoes the tie on his sword and the owl's gaze suddenly fixates right on Gillmesh, knowingly. With no response, they think this may not be Simon after all. "Simon?" Garren asks once more.
"Simon? You know Simon? How do you come to know of Simon?" asked the owl, its 6-foot form stepping off the branch, then fluttering to the ground beside the priest. Garren briefly explained their encounter with Simon to the new owl. "Ah, I see. That does sound like something Simon would do. He has little understanding of the protocols involved in . . . contact." Nope, this sure wasn't Simon.
Gillmesh approached, "Ye seem a lil brighter tha Simon were." The owl cocked his head again, almost indignantly. "A little? Hmmmmph. Well, Simon is rather . . . um, simple." Obviously, the bird's Common was far better than Gill's heavy-accented excuse for Trade Talk, but the owl says nothing of this. Garren smiles at the bird, "So, what do you want, Mr. um . . . ?"
"Arthur; my name is Arthur."
"And what do you want of us, Arthur?" asked the cleric.
"To learn of you. Would you talk of such things with me? Since you already know of us, the protocols are moot at this point, so it is . . . permitted. You know of wisdom. You are familiar with this word, wisdom?" Several party members nod and Sedoc also approaches, entering the conversation.
"Then, human, is it true the wisest of humans are always of the gods, their, what do you call them, their priests?"
Gill conveys his desire to Trek, for the holy warrior to see if a "bad vibe" is emanating from this bird, but Trekken looks and signals that all is well; no "enemy" is present.
"No, not all the time. Many of the wisest do become priests, but not all," replied Garren.
Arthur stepped closer to the cleric, "I see, not a certainty, so evil may be of the gods too, and this is not wisdom, yes?" The questions were a bit cryptic, but Garren felt he understood the owl. "Yes, that is so."
"But of strength, yes, you know strength as well? Do all humans of great strength become one of the warrior's cast?" Garren responded, "Many do, or some are blacksmiths or other things requiring great strength. Not all who are strong become warriors, however." Arthur pressed the matter, "Some, but exceedingly few are of a different cast than warrior then?" Garren blinked, wondering if he was missing some subtlety. "Many are warriors, but many more are not. They may be a great many things besides warrior."
The owl craned his head nearly all the way around, looking at his surroundings, and then brought his attention back upon the party. "Human, you are confusing. Many things surprise me. Just this night I saw a human taking many pigmen into his wooden nest. Is this not strange? I would have thought so, but clearly I have been misinformed of a great many things."
Sedoc finally perked up at the mention of pigmen. "Pigmen?"
"Yes, you know of pigmen?" Arthur said, apparently missing the fact some did not understand him.
"Orcs," said Garren and Gillmesh simultaneously.
"Yes, of course, orcs, they are called that sometimes. They rest in the wooden man-nest to the west. I have watched many things, but I have never seen that before and would not have believed it if I hadn't seen it myself. If Simon had told me he saw that, I'd have called him a fool and not believed him. I was given to believe pigmen and humans were not friendly toward each other."
Sedoc Umedrisean puts on a questioning face and looks at the owl, and then at the party members. Garren said, "Oh really? Where is this place that orcs and men gather? A wooden nest?"
"A house," offered Gillmesh.
"Yes, a house you call it, a wooden nest; the pigmen and a human went there. This is a nocturnal human, for I have only observed him at night. Strange, you seem to have much freedom to go a way that is not best suited to your talents. I would feel lost in your circle, never knowing what to expect."
Garren assured Arthur that this was not typical behavior for humans after all and helped allay Arthur's worries he had learned about humans so badly. "Where are they, exactly?"
The owl stretched forth his feathery wings before answering. "A large wooden nest, very near the diminutive cascade of water." Arthur described the scene, perhaps within a house or two, and they felt certain he was speaking of a large house in Little Falls with a stone wall surrounding it, not so very far from the falls that fell into Lake Rebel. Armed with a rough idea of where to look, they thanked the bird.
"There is little I can do, human, but you are not so far from there. You may even catch him in his nocturnal activities, if you hurry there now."
"Hmm, hey Arthur, do you know anything about this?" Garren said, showing him the medallion of the owl. Arthur looked at it for a time. They agreed to let him take it and inquiry about it after he promised he would return it. "I see much; I will see you again and return it then," the wise owl promised them.
"You had better hurry if you wish to catch the evil human before sunrise," he said, stretching his wings forth and effortlessly taking off with a mighty hop, quickly disappearing into the black of the night.
SESSION ENDS:
© December of 1999
by
James L.R. Beach
Waterville, MN 56096