~ The Quest for the Ring of Fire
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Turn 137.0: Visitors in the Desert
Posted: 1/17/01
As Emma prepares for the
ceremony to come, she can't help but think about Robert. His trust is fully placed in the hands of
the Red Dragon renegades...his advisors.
The term makes her sick, because she knows he depends upon their advice,
and she also knows how duplicitous the wizards truly are...so it's only bad
advice that they give him.
'I've got to open his eyes
to that tonight,' she tells herself, 'Somehow, some way, he's got to face the
truth...and I can only hope that he does something constructive with it.' But what worries the priestess the most is
how Robert was so condescending to her...going so far as to mockingly call her
a 'Lady'. He seems very angry and
perhaps even vengeful. And that's
something she's completely unsure how to undo.
For the time being she
takes comfort in the words of Anhur that were revealed to her through the
augury. 'He will hear the truth of his
actions at one time. He will understand
the words at another. And he will act
upon them with understanding when the time is right,' she repeats to herself,
'That sounds positive. It illustrates a
time of learning...and it might be painful, for me and him...but in the end, he
will understand and act accordingly.
I've got to hold onto that, at the very least.'
At the sight of the body,
Storm takes a peek at the corpse and "hmphs," being that it wasn't
far off at all from what he was expecting.
'Where be the vultures?' he wonders.
'Must be the weather.'
He is thoroughly bored
while waiting for the spellcasting to begin (and be over with), and he spends
the time walking around the border of the circle, kicking at any solid objects
he sees on the tundra ground.
Eventually he stops and crosses his arms, looking off casually into the
distance. He simply waits...for what
more is there to do out here?
El stands within the circle
as well, looking to the body at his feet.
His eyes then briefly meet with Skandor's and Hannibal's, as they too
stand near. But as his eyes pass between
the two, something else catches his attention.
It is difficult to see exactly what.
Whatever it is is far enough out in the desert, and away from the
clarifying light of Canter's lantern, so as not to be clearly visible--even
with his enhanced elven vision. Some
kind of shimmering, shifting image. Something moving. Was he
going mad? First he was suspecting Emma
of hiding things, now was he plainly seeing things? No one else seems to notice, but then again, no one else has his
vision and no one else is paying much attention to the horizon in that
direction.
Perturbed El does not know
what to do. Should he tell? What would be the point, it seemed thus far
his fears had been the groundless imaginings of a paranoiac. He decides to keep his own counsel
instead. However, he keeps his eyes
glued to the horizon. Should the
shimmering grow into more of a disturbance, or seem to come closer, he thinks,
he will softly alert Crayne, then possibly Hannibal.
Soon, however, Emma has
begun the prayer, a task of the utmost importance. Not wanting to interrupt, especially for a mere hallucination, El
bites his tongue...for now.
"I'm sorry," Emma
whispers down to the Coreognate's body, "I'm sorry for your death, but
equally sorry that I must disturb your rest for this short time. But even in death, you can still serve your
god and his purpose here in this realm.
"Anhur...God of
Justice! As your loyal servant I call
upon your aid," she says aloud, "Entreat Hathe, the God of Arts, to
bring before us the spirit of this Coreognate so he may reveal to us the mysteries
to which we seek answers."
The paladin bows his head
respectfully and with some amount of reverence and awe as Emma once again calls
upon the granted powers of their deity.
Once again, the Sword Bearer feels something--almost a 'presence'--as he
senses the arrival of the Coreognate's soul.
Dutifully, respectfully, Skandor awaits silently by as Emma speaks to
the recently departed.
Crayne stands there with
his arms folded as Emma begins to cast her spell. He is on edge as he looks around nervously. He still wasn't keen on Robert now knowing
what he did: that Rinder's Six were within the walls of El-Balans and that they
were looking for the Ring of Fire Command.
If Robert didn't believe Rinder's Six then what the hell were they going
to do with him then? Would Robert fall
for this magical trickery? Crayne then
begins to put himself in the position of Robert and begins to ask himself what
he would say and do if he were in Robert's shoes. It wasn't good, Crayne knew.
Crayne wished they were back at the Temple slowly getting rid of the
Caerloon soldiers.
Crayne remains silent and
awaits the outcome of Emma's spell. He
shivers occasionally and looks distinctly agitated out in the open.
A soft breeze stirs across
the desert sand, swirling its way toward the body...as if the Coreognate's
ghostly presence has journeyed from far away to stand once more before
them. The air coalesces into a misty
haze and two small points of light, similar to the stars above, spring to life
and gaze around the circle.
"Coreognate,"
Emma says, "Thank you for coming to us.
Your people need you once more.
This man here..." She
gestures toward Robert. "...holds
the power to free them. He believes his
actions were just and holds no knowledge of the treachery that led to your
death. He trusts the lies of his
advisors because he is blind to truth.
So I ask of you to please enlighten us and explain the nature of your
execution. What was the real reason
they put you to death?"
The spirit's voice
trembles, its sound distant and faint, like the wind itself. "They demanded...all my knowledge...and
entry into the most guarded of places.
Out of devotion to Hathe and not fear for my life I refused. They grew...disturbed. Telling each other I was to be killed as an
example to the others, I was first beaten.
It was as if they...enjoyed it.
In the end, it was a blade to the back and a ride to the desert...to
die..."
Emma nods in acceptance of
the spirit's answer, looking at Robert to note his reaction. Her control over the spell almost slips
away, but she remembers one other thing she wanted to ask. "Coreognate!" she says, "One
last thing. My comrades and I search
for the Rings of Damacht. The wizards
that murdered you want them, too. We
must stop them and insure the prophecy of their unification doesn't come to
pass. Your people have told us the
information we seek is contained within a play that was written here at
El-Balans. Please tell us, where and
how can we find this play?"
There is a pause as the
spirit fades for a moment, but then returns with a sense of urgency. When it speaks once again, its voice is
strained. "The drama you seek has
resided deep within the Ancient Chambers, locked away for generations, lest the
story it reveals should fall into the wrong hands. It will take skill and determination to reach Killner's Vault,
where this play rests. And remember,
with songful praise of Hathe, your way will be--"
Suddenly the Coreognate's
spirit's voice is cut off as the eyes shoot up, looking out toward the horizon,
past Elloharin. "Evil
spirits!" it warns quickly. Then,
with a gust of a breeze, the eyes seem to fly away into the night. Emma leans forward on her hands and knees,
drained by the spell. Unfortunately, now
is not a time for rest.
El pounds a fist into his
other hand as he realizes that his visions were, after all, real. And now they were closer...nearly right on
top of them! Quickly a wave of stench washes
over El and the rest of the party, just as the creatures enter the outermost
limits of the light from Canter's lantern.
The sight of them is nearly equal to their stench. They are most definitely humanoid, standing
and moving like humans. But their skin
appears rotted, their flesh coarse, rubbery, even missing or flaking away. They bear sharp teeth and long, piercing
nails.
The closest one immediately
launches itself at its closest target, the member of the party standing with
its back toward their (extremely quiet) approach: Canter. Canter's eye catches Elloharin's eye just
before the attack, and manages to jump aside, barely missing the creature's
first pounce. Immediately it lashes out
again with its nails. Canter dodges,
reaching for his weapon and moving away from the circle so as not the endanger
the others. With the third attempt,
however, the creater catches Canter in the upper arm. Canter lets out a quick scream, but soon feels his body stiffen. His limbs fail him, taking on a wooden
feeling as he falls to the ground, still very much alive, but unable to
move. (3 hp damage, paralysis until
137.4*)
A second creature appears
and attacks Alara, who had been standing next to Canter in the circle. Having been tipped off by Canter's sudden
evasive movement, she manages to dodge the creature's first attack, but is
struck by its second. She winces in
pain as its barbed nails scratch off the top layer of skin on her shoulder, and
then, like Canter, she is no longer able to move. She can feel herself falling backwards to the rough sand, but cannot
command her hands to reach out and cushion her fall. With a thud she hits the ground, not far from Canter or the
circle. (4 hp damage, paralysis until
137.8*) The creature looks around
quickly, reaching for the young priestess, Illena. Screaming, the little girl jumps back and away, avoiding this
creature's sharp claws, for the moment.
A third creature then
attacks, bringing with it a new wave of ghastly stench and a view of rotted
flesh and bone. It goes after
Skandor. On the first try this new
enemy slashes Skandor across the face, opening up three bloody gashes across
the Sword Bearer's cheek. Skandor yelps
with the searing pain and instinctively reaches to his face to assess the
wounds, but his arm stops responding before it can make the journey. (7 hp damage, paralysis until 138.0*) Skandor's body falls to the ground beside
Hannibal. Hannibal's eyes follow his
friend to the ground, and then rise to meet with those of Skandor's foe.
"Think you can steal
him from us, do you?!" the creature bellows. It is almost no voice at all, but a strained squeaking, painful
to the ears to hear. And the breath
landing upon Hannibal's face is almost unbearable. Fortunately, Hannibal steels himself. Raising his weapon, he blocks one, then another advance by this
creature.
"What are these
things?!" Hannibal calls out to
the others, noting Canter and Alara also lying on the ground, their eyes open
to the combat around them but their bodies unable to move.
"And what do they
want?" Crayne yells, frustrated at their lack of a good defensible
position. The mage keeps his wits about
him, and his eyes look out to the limits of the lantern’s circle of
illumination. There, just on the edge,
were more of these creatures...three more, to be exact!
1. HP Status: Alara: 28/32, Canter: 41/44, Crayne: 15/15,
El: 25/25, Emma: 42/42, Hannibal: 26/26, Skandor: 24/31, Storm: 44/44.
2. (*) Canter, Alara, and Skandor have been rendered paralyzed after being struck by these creatures. They will regain the ability to move on the rounds indicated. You may, however, attempt other means of helping them regain their faculties if you so choose.
~ The Quest for the Ring of Fire Command: [Home] [Previous Turn] [Next Turn] ~
Turn 137.2: Bathing the Desert
Posted: 1/19/01
(137.0)
Emma coughs as the gust of
wind from the spirit's departure stirs up the sand around her. Her hands sink into the sand and she calls
out, "No...wait...our way will be what?!?" But her plaintive cry goes unanswered. Only the sounds of their newly arrived visitors echo across the
desert landscape.
Crayne moves back out of
the stench and mutters to Emma, "It seems they are not happy with us
messing around with their dead! They
must be some form of zombie!"
Quickly Crayne casts Magic
Missile. With a hissing sound three
missiles shoot off and strike the zombie that had just struck at Skandor. They strike the creature's rotting flesh
with loud "pops" and send the creature stumbling backwards. But it is far from gone.
Emma finally begins to
stir, stumbling to her feet, sand dripping from her hands. The spell she had used to summon the
Coreognate's spirit left her weak...perhaps too weak. She backs up a step toward the center of the circle, trying to
take stock of the situation. Coming
closer to the lantern, her shadow seems to stretch huge and wide over the
dunes, adding to the chaos of the moment.
Hannibal is torn, what to
do? On one side his friend Canter is
down, a man who had saved his life many times before. Beside him Skandor also is down, unable to defend himself from
the ghoul bearing down on Hannibal now.
Hannibal had grown to like Skandor over the weeks. Despite his "golden boy"
appearance and attitude he was the kind of man you could trust, and always there
for a friend. Then again there was
Emma, a woman who just weeks before he had promised to protect with his own
life. Now she lay weak from her spell,
unable to defend herself against this very deadly foe.
Even as the ghoul presses
its attack on Hannibal, he cannot decide.
Would Skandor approve if Hannibal left him defenseless and rushed to
Emma's aid? What if Canter was slain,
how could Hannibal forgive himself then?
Memories of Bigamore's Dredge invade his conscience again as Hannibal
can almost see the orcs pulling his lord from his horse, hacking him to bits in
joy. Anger floods Hannibal,
overwhelming him. It is the anger he
had felt for Bernigan, the anger that would someday kill him he knows. It is this anger that forces him to take unnecessary
chances, risking more than the eventual reward was worth.
Hannibal smiles at the
oncoming ghoul, welcoming the adversary with a casual toss of his sword. "You shoulda stayed dead,
rothead!" Hannibal growls, stepping forward to press his own attack. He knows he was badly outmatched here, knows
the ghoul could tear him to shreds, but he cares not. It was moments like these that made Hannibal wake up in the
morning with regret, moments like these that drove him to drink, moments like
these that got him mixed up with the Blood Clans.
Closing in on his target,
the same ghoul that Crayne's missiles had just struck, Hannibal continues to
twirl his sword. Then he suddenly
interrupts the blade's circular motion with a forward thrust. It is a fantastic hit, and he can feel the
sword tear into the ghoul's rubbery flesh.
The ghoul throws its head back, howling into the cool desert night.
Skandor struggles futilely
against the hold, helpless and extremely frustrated at his sudden
vulnerability. His foe could easily gut
him on the spot, if that's what he wanted to do. He can't even close his eyes and pray for divine aid, due to the
paralysis. He watches what he can
helplessly as he listens for Emma to spring into action.
"Th-they're
undead!" Emma stammers, still trying to find her voice and her
strength. Her hand fumbles for the
broadsword at her hip, finally drawing the blade with a ring of steel. Vaguely she senses that Skandor, Alara, and
Canter have fallen to the ground and that concerns her greatly. She must do something to protect them!
'Felled by a single
strike?' the Shield Maiden thinks to herself as she advances, 'These are no
mere zombies.' She remembers her own
religious teachings about the afterlife and those that refuse to pass peaceably
into Anhur's judgment hall. She recalls
that at least one of the creatures has the ability to duplicate the effects of
a "holding" enchantment, not unlike the spell she used to great
effect against Caerloon's soldiers and Bernigan's bandits.
Storm is momentarily
startled by these foul smelling beasts as they dive into the party. Caught flatfooted, Storm blinks and stares
for a brief moment. Then his face
shifts, going from a look of confusion to one of sneering battle rage. Wiping his nose on his sleeve for a second,
Storm's twin long swords ring and glisten in the lantern's light as they come
unsheathed. "Arright ye ugly
smellies (this sounding funny coming from a dwarf such as Storm), lets see if
ye can be stoppin' this stout in his tracks!" He flexes every muscle in his body, then,
with a growl, he runs at the nearest ghast, which is had just finished
attacking Canter.
His first attempt, with his
left blade, misses. But Storm quickly
follows it up with an attack with his right blade. This one strikes the ghoul just as it turns away from Canter's
body to face the dwarf. The blade
catches the creature in the chest, ripping its abdomen open.
"Dammit!" El
shouts. His fury is ignited
immediately, despite the chill down his back.
He should have known this was coming.
Who'd have known a ghoul could travel so fast? Seeing his comrades dropping left and right, El wishes to get the
hell out right now. No ghoul could
outrun a horse. El curses again when he
sees Emma's lips pursed murmuring, a low red light springing from an amulet she
bears. 'She intends to stick this
out! She must be mad!' Sparing a glance for the child he dashes
over to Wade.
"Think you can be a
good boy, and help us out of a bind? I
think we've been a little to nice to you lordling, but all our lives are at
stake here. The time for trust is
now." El slices through Wade's
bonds with his belt knife, then tosses it to the surprised Robert. "I hope I haven't just betrayed my only
friends, Wade."
Illena quickly retreats
from the oncoming undead creatures, her eyes widening. She looks to Alara, her newfound friend,
felled on the cold desert sand.
Blinking her eyes quickly, small teardrop spill gently down her soft
pale cheeks. Sniffling the tears and
the fear away, the young priestess of Hathe kneels down on the sand, her hands
searching frantically for three small rocks or pebbles. Finding these rather quickly, she stands up
again, her lips mouthing some words unknown to and unnoticed by the
others--except Alara, who's head landed on the sand oriented such that she can
see Illena's position.
With a sudden movement,
Illena hurls the three stones at the ghoul who had stuck Alara and then
attacked her. Two of the stones miss,
sailing over and beside the creature.
But the third stone strikes the ghoul in the face, sounding a muted
"crack!" in the process. The
ghoul screeches, raising its ugly hands to its face in an effort to quell the
pain. Smiling, Illena continues to
backpedal so as to stay out of the creature's way.
(137.1)
Enraged by Storm's attacks,
that ghoul goes on the offensive, bearing down on the sturdy dwarf. Lashing out with its long, sharp claws, the
creature attempts to rip into Storm.
But Storm is quick on his feet and practiced with his swords, and uses
both abilities to his advantage. With
three quick movements he manages to dodge one attack and block two others.
Meanwhile, the ghoul that
had just been struck in the face by Illena's Magical Stones seems to stop for a
moment. Then, rather than pursuing the
child priestess, it reaches down to Alara's body at its feet. With a sly smile in Illena's direction, the
evil undead creature grabs Alara's ankles and begins to drag her away from the
melee.
El soon finds himself under
attack from one of the new ghouls to arrive on the scene. Fortunately, he had just enough time to free
Robert from his bonds and unsheathe his own weapon. Continuing that motion, he blocks two attacks, then dives and
rolls to the side--narrowly avoiding the lantern in the process!--to evade
another attack. Shaking the sand off
his arm and face, El narrows his eyes, focusing his rage on the ghoul before
him.
Hannibal soon finds,
however, that the ghast he had just attacked has turned upon him. Knowing that this one would be tough to shake,
he tries his hardest to block the creature's attacks. One hit and he would meet with the same ugly fate Alara was sure
to meet with. With a quick upward
movement he blocks the first attempt.
Then a sudden downturn of the blade to block another. But his sword is just not fast enough for
the third, and he feels the ghast's nail dig into the side of his neck, drawing
blood in a long thin slice. (6 hp
damage) The thief instinctively reaches
to his neck to hold the wound together, but his hand doesn't make it all the
way. Soon he has fallen to the sand,
his vision focused on the back of Canter's legs, as he is no longer able to
move even his eyes.
The new ghast on the scene
immediately goes for Robert. Newly
freed from his bonds and armed with a knife, the aristocrat is a bit confused
and unnerved. But there is no time to
question his kidnappers' motives.
Though he might not want to fight with them, these undead creatures
would not distinguish him from them.
Glad for a small, light weapon, he quickly cuffs the blade so as to
protect himself while he dashes and dodges the oncoming attacks. Thankfully, he emerges unscathed.
Crayne outstretches his
hands before him, a soft breeze over the dunes sending his cape billowing
behind him. Locking his thumbs
together, he intones the words of Burning Hands. Within seconds, a arc of flame shoots forth from his
fingertips. The flames instantly
illuminate the area much more than the lantern did. His eyes concentrated on the ghast which had just felled Hannibal,
Crayne directs his magical flames toward the creature. They strike, sending the ghast hurling
backwards and completely engulfed in flame.
To the best of his knowledge, Crayne believes the ghast is burned to the
extent of complete destruction.
Then, grasping his sword,
Elloharin charges into the fray, attacking the ghoul which had just attacked
him. He can feel the battle rage begin
to overwhelm him, and suddenly he has forgotten about Wade entirely. Just
fighting for his life. His blade meets
with the ghoul's rotted flesh, and with a transient sense of satisfaction, El
rips through the flesh with as much force as he can muster. The ghoul is not killed, but certainly
deeply wounded, a fact which El enjoys greatly.
After a fast dodge to his left,
Robert twirl's his new dagger in his hand, sending the blade up and
forward. Then he lunges forward, trying
to slash at the ghast against which he fights.
But the ghast is quick, and with a sidestep and a swipe with the back of
its arm, Robert's attack is thwarted, leaving his back exposed!
Storm swirls his twin
blades through the air before him, looking for a good opening through which to
strike. He finds two, but somehow the
ghoul before him evades both attempts.
He can hear it laughing, its whiny, straining voice irritating even his
strong dwarven ears.
"Crayne! Storm!
Everyone! Don't let them touch
you!" Emma yells out, her hands already passing through the motions of a
divine prayer for aid. "Mighty
Anhur protect us from this ambush," she intones, "Drive away these
hungry souls from our presence! Turn
your gaze upon those that are dead but still alive. Judge them now where they stand...so their souls may find their
way to a final resting place."
She cups her palm to the
holy symbol hanging from her neck, a miniature golden sun of interlocking metal
wires representing Nire's influence over life and death. Inside them is a ruby gemstone symbolizing
Anhur, the bloody god of War, and Judge of All Mankind. The tiny stone emits an unearthly light,
bathing the sand in a red glow. Where
it touches the undead, it causes them to pause and reconsider their actions.
The red glow overtakes the
scene, stretching forth to cover the entire melee, including the ghoul dragging
Alara's body away. It is a warm light,
which when it surrounds even Canter, Hannibal, Alara, and Skandor, sends
soothing energies pulsing through their bodies. Emma holds the symbol strongly in front of her, her feet planted
firmly in the ground and her resolve steeled.
As the red glow reaches the
ghouls and ghasts, they suddenly freeze in their tracks, halting theirs
actions. Their taut, rubbery, exposed
muscles tighten, as if their eyebrows were raised in unexpected fear. The lead ghast, overpowering Robert, looks
directly at Emma. For a moment their
eyes lock, his icy glare engaging hers, backed by the sheer power of
Anhur. Then, losing the contest, the
ghast throws its head back and emits a piercing, deafening scream. Illena raises her hands to her ears and
falls to her knees at the sound.
But it is a good sound, and
as the ghast screams, it withdraws along with its ghoulish undead underlings. The ghoul dragging Alara drops the
half-elf's ankles, turning and fleeing into the night with the others. In a matter of moments all the creatures are
gone, leaving Alara, Canter, Hannibal, and Skandor still paralyzed on the
desert sand. Robert falls forward into
the sand, his knees weakened, his stomach churning. Turning his head to the side, he vomits with a great wretching
sound.
Having finished turning the
undead, Emma drops the holy symbol from her hands, letting it rest on her
chest. Once again, she is weakened,
sinking slowly into the sand to her knees.
She runs her fingers through her hair, disheveled and hanging into her
face. Her eyes meet with Crayne's. A small nod is exchanged, for no words are
necessary, at least not now.
El looks to Storm, who
sheathes one of his swords but not the other.
With the flick of his head, El motions for Storm to keep tabs on
Robert. Meanwhile, the elf moves toward
Illena, kneeling at the young half-elf's side.
It was unlike him to comfort children, but Alara was unable to and the
next best choice, Emma, had to get her own strength back. Almost oblivious to the awkwardness of the
situation, El reaches out for Illena, bringing the girl close to him and
hugging her. As she rests her cheek on
his shoulder she bursts into tears, her eyes trained on the motionless body of
Alara lying there in the sand.
1. HP Status: Alara: 28/32*, Canter: 41/44*, Crayne: 15/15, Elloharin:
25/25, Emma: 42/42, Hannibal: 20/26*, Skandor: 24/31*, Storm: 44/44. (An asterisk * indicates paralysis.)
2. Well, with the successful Turn Undead by Emma, the Ghouls and Ghasts appear to be gone. For the moment, those indicated above are still paralyzed. The effects should wear off in a number of minutes (though the characters might not know this!). Wade is no longer bound, but judging from his condition one might believe that he's not going anywhere at the moment.
~ The Quest for the Ring of Fire
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