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Turn 148.0: The Other End of the Bridge

Posted: 4/24/01

            Once the aftermath of the battle plays itself out, Hannibal grabs his bedroll and proceeds to a dark corner, away from the rest of the group.  Tired, aching, and very sore, he wraps himself up and tries to warm his tired body as best he can.  His thoughts wander off as he nears sleep, seeing images of his mother and father, his girlfriend, and his lord.  Some of the memories are good, others bad, but all very real, fortunately.  The dream had disturbed Hannibal a great deal and the thief battled with thoughts of what the visions must have meant.

            Elloharin sighs in relief at seeing the members of the Six all gathered together once more.  He winces in pain from the burn marks on his skin and armor.  Feeling electricity course through his veins like that had been terrifying.  Elloharin recalls just how little about magic he knows.  With that in mind he resolves to make himself a true apprentice of mage Crayne's.  When he has the time.  For now, he squats down next to the mage and pulls out his scroll case.  He sets to memorizing his two spells.  When he is done, he relocates to where the warriors sit resting.  He takes a short nap for the remainder of the hour.

            Storm spends the hour of rest slumped down--but not sleeping--against one of the walls.  After about fifty minutes, seeing the group is getting ready to depart once more, he goes to wake Hannibal, who had been sleeping.

            Tiredly Hannibal arises, rubbing the sand from his eyes.  Patting the stout on the shoulder, he gives his friend a wink.  "I thought for sure you got yourself in more than you could chew back there.  You know you never cease to amaze me, friend!"

            "Hey, man, I be a dwarf.  We can chew a lot!  Just ask Skandor!  Hehaha!!!" Storm smiles his half-toothy grin and smacks the human on the back, not noticing at all that it might have hurt the injured man.

            Back with the group, Emma offers more healing.  Glancing at the arrow holes in his side, Storm smiles quite appreciatively and accepts the healing.  "Thank ye again, Emma," he says, offering yet another smack on the back.  (7 hp restored)

            Emma also offers some healing to Canter, who thanks her for her and Anhur's efforts.  (5 hp restored)

            Hannibal then pulls Emma aside for a private conversation.  "Priestess, I hope that my actions of earlier did not offend you too greatly.  Please believe that it was never my intention to take by guile and deception what was never mine to have.  I hope that you will forgive me and my temporary oversight."  He awaits any reply she has and says nothing while she speaks.

            Emma moves her mouth to answer but nothing comes out at first.  She feels embarrassed and her heart feels tight inside her chest for some reason.  She just knows her cheeks are starting to blush.  Her eyes dart beyond the thief, toward the rest of the party to make sure none of the others are eavesdropping on their conversation.  She was still uncertain if anyone had seen what happened while she was healing Hannibal.

            But then she considers his words further and realizes Hannibal never meant for the kiss to happen.  That discovery causes her to reassess her assumptions that he might actually feel something for her.  She is disappointed for some reason, and can't quite explain why it hurts to come to that conclusion.  It's not like they were a couple...and besides, she had feelings for Robert Wade the Fourth...didn't she?  Torn between the image of a dashing southern Caerloon soldier and the very real presence of the roguish Hannibal, a trusted friend and ally with whom she had shared so much of herself, Emma continues to be confused by the signals of her own heart.

            The feeling scares her and so she pushes through it in order to put on a brave face.  She shouldn't show him how much the kiss had affected her...or that she would even entertain thoughts that he and she could be...

            "That's okay, Hannibal," Emma feigns a nonchalant attitude about the whole thing, "You were wounded...and the lightning, it...um, it probably shook us all up, you know.  You probably just weren't yourself.  So, I...I..."  She could feel the mask crumbling away, but tried to smile through it anyway.  "I understand."

            She avoids his eyes and stares beyond him into the darkness of the cavern toward the tunnel Covarc had used to make his escape.  She could barely make out the image of Skandor amidst Crayne's pile of ice, dutifully watching over the exit.  But inside, she could only feel the trembling of her heartbeat.  To calm herself, she finds a quiet spot to continue her own prayers.

            Following the completion of her prayers, Emma rises to her feet and sets about gathering her things.  The successful completion of their mission to these Ancient Chambers is within reach now and she wants to be ready for the trials ahead.  Her meditation has allowed her to once more gain insight into the will and wisdom of her god, and having taken the measure of her adversaries in the battle that freed Amos, she feels confident that Rinder's Six is up to the task of taking on Covarc once more.

            But that's really only half of the equation, she comes to realize.  Amos and the Coreognate's spirit had both hinted at the fact that they needed a certain song of praise to Hathe, God of the Arts, in order to find the play.  The priestess takes stock of the powers at her command and recalls a prayer that might aid them in locating specific items.  It had been Emma's intention to use that particular form of spiritual guidance to lead them to the play itself.  But, if they needed these lyrics to successfully obtain the play, it might be better spent upon finding them instead.  Of course, the enchantment wouldn't work without at least some limited bit of knowledge about the item sought.  Perhaps Amos might lend some insight?

            Approaching the flighty Hathean, Emma softly places her hand upon his arm to convince him to take a walk with her so they can talk for a moment.  "Amos?" she asks, "In the training provided to me by my temple and our battlemasters, we were often instructed on the importance of realizing that wars are rarely the pursuit of a single goal.  More often they are comprised of many smaller goals that shift with the tide of battle.  We must be prepared for them or the next wave of warriors will sweep us away.

            "When Rinder's Six first came to El-Balans," she continues, "We sought a clue that would lead us to the Rings of Damacht before these Red Dragon renegades seized them for nefarious purposes.  Then, as we came to realize the plight of you and your fellow priests, our goals widened to include securing your freedom from the Caerloon soldiers.  And now, with the understanding given to me by your Coreognate's spirit and your knowledge of the ancient customs of your god, once more it seems we must expand our goals to include finding these lyrics which will give us safe passage through the Ancient Chambers and help us in our greater goal of securing the play."

            She stops walking and turns to face him.  "Amos," she explains, "I need your help.  Sometimes Anhur gives his priests the ability to find fallen comrades upon the field of battle...or an enemy's standard in order to target their general...or a lost sword, too precious to leave lying upon the ground.  I can use that power to find these lyrics, no matter what they might be inscribed upon, if you can describe them to me.  Any phrase that you might recall?  The shape of certain unique runes that would be contained within them?  Any description whatsoever that might help me to nail down an image in my mind?  From that point on, Anhur will guide us to it.  So can you help us, Amos?  Can you describe what form these lyrics are most likely to take?"

            Crayne rubs his eyes as he closes his spellbook, looking to see Emma and Amos, and catching the end of her question to the Hathean priest.  The dim light had made it difficult to concentrate and irritated his eyes.  Nevertheless, he did feel better now that he had some spells that he could use should Covarc spring a surprise.  Rising from the hard floor Crayne stretches his muscles.  He feels a strong pain in his chest and side caused by the recent encounters with Covarc and the Battle of El-Balans.

            Leaning a little on his tall staff he heads over to the group.  He eyes Hannibal who still looks a little worse for wear and nods at Storm who doesn’t seem effected by any amount of pain. He casts his eyes on the newly gained priest Amos who still looks very nervous and upset.  It is then the group start firing suggestions towards each other as to what the party should do next.  Crayne remains silent and becomes intrigued by Emma's suggestion of a spell she has which enables her to locate an object.  Crayne is impressed indeed.

            "Emma, your suggestion is one of great merit and if you could pull it off I feel it would save us a great deal of time and bother!"  He then looks expectantly to the nervous looking Amos.

            Emma smiles, buoyed by the support of the party's primary spellcaster.  It feels almost as though she and Crayne have come to understand their roles.  Her faith-inspired powers usually assisted Rinder's Six in discovering things, defending them from things, or dealing with the aftermath of a battle by relieving their wounds.  'But Crayne's contribution is no less important,' she realizes, 'He affected Covarc all by himself during the battle...and lived to tell the tale.  The Ring of Water Command rests easily upon his finger now.'

            Emma comes to the conclusion that she has no doubt Crayne will have prepared himself for the battle ahead and would come out victorious on the other side.  'Now,' she thinks to herself, 'I just need to get us to that battle...and Anhur's power should be more than enough to accomplish that.  After all, if there's to be a showdown between us and Covarc, I'm sure Anhur wouldn't want us to be late.'  The priestess grins to herself with that thought.

            Amos scratches the stubble on his cheek as he thinks.  "That is quite a power you'n have there, Emmalya of Anhur.  And I think that I may be able to help you'n in finding these lyrics.  Indeed, such an inscription would probably not be uncommon to the ancient ones.  Let me think..."

            As Amos' voice trails off, Canter flicks his eyes toward Skandor, who, though guarding Covarc's escape route, is paying attention to the conversation.

            "I've got it!" Amos exclaims happily.  "I don't know the entire lyric, but this might be enough for you'n and Anhur: '...as krayet imaginatyan bodies forthnec formen things prunknown..."

            "'Imaginatya bodies forthnec...'" Storm repeats, almost in wonder, struggling to wrap his dwarven tongue around the poetic words which seem themselves formed in some foreign ancient tongue.

            "I can work with that," Emma states, nodding to Amos and then to Crayne.  She then steps away from the circle and begins her prayer, calling upon the will of Anhur to guide her toward the inscription of the lyrics.  At the appointed time, she says the words aloud: "...as krayet imaginatyan bodies forthnec formen things prunknown..."

            Somewhere high above, even from the depths of the Hathean Ancient Chambers, the priestess' voice is heard.  It seems, in fact, as if her voice grows stronger with each call.  At first, she feels nothing, but soon she can feel a pull upon her chin, directing her first to move her head.  Then her whole body follows until she is turned around completely, facing the south wall of the large chamber...the same direction as Covarc's escape.  At the very last moment, she feels the tug on her chin once more, pulling it upward.  As she opens her eyes once again her sight falls upon the darkened corner of the chamber, high above the doorway through which Covarc and his men fled.  No, her sight is directed into the blackness where the stone bridge seems to meet the south wall.

            Crayne then perks up, "I have a suggestion also.  We still haven't found out where the other end of the bridge leads.  For I do believe that that is another option open to us if all else fails.  I do remember that it did seem to lead across to another brick wall with little evidence of a door.  However, we mustn't forget the way we entered into this chamber!"

            Emma smiles, rising and hearing Crayne's words.  It was as if he were reading her mind!  But, "Can we get back up there?" Emma asks, unsure if Crayne has exhausted his powers of levitation yet.

            "Indeed we can!" Crayne says, "I purposefully went back up after I levitated Hannibal down and attached the rope to the bridge."  Crayne smiles at Emma who seemed a little on edge about something.  He wasn't sure what it was but Hannibal too seemed involved in someway.

            Crayne then turns his attention back to the battle and takes his spellbook out.  He jots some notes down about the colours he saw through his Detect Magic noting the orange which represented the statues.  He also jots down the deep red colour which he presumed belonged to the mage.  A deep red must have resembled strong and powerful magic Crayne suspected, but from which field of magic he was still unsure.  He believed it wouldn't be long before he had a better chance of identifying the specific fields of  magic through the various textures and hues of the colours that he saw through his Detect Magic spell.

            Storm keeps quiet as the rest decide which way to go.  He keeps busy by checking the straps on his leather armor, inspecting his boots and daggers, making sure all his belongings are in order.

            "That was good thinking, Crayne," Emma says, still smiling.  "Because Anhur's guidance has directed our search toward that very spot.  Come, let us make our way up there so we can see what we find."  With that, Emma heads over to the rope and begins the climb up.  The others follow behind until all are on the bridge.  Then, with a few weapons drawn--just in case--they proceed across the bridge all the way to the south end of the cavern.  Canter carries one of the lanterns, shedding some light on the way ahead.

            As the bridge meets the wall, the party can see the wall it flat and smooth, a little unlike the rough rock from which the chamber has been cut.  From where the edge of the bridge meets the wall, a carving begins.  The party's eyes follow the carving straight up, then over, and down the other side to where it meets with the other edge of the bridge.  Three sides of a rounded, rectangular shape.  An archway.  But where is the door?

            "What is it?" Skandor asks, squinting to make out the carving.

            "Look closer..." Amos says, crouching down right up against the wall, and in front of the group.  "Here, carved within the border!  Emmalya and Crayne you have led us to it!!"  He smiles broadly toward the Shield Maiden and mage.

            "But can you read it?" El asks, eyeing the flighty priest of Hathe.

            Amos returns his gaze to the tiny carved symbols within the border (two parallel lines) that outlines the retantular archway.  "It will take some time," he admits.  "Give me a few minutes..."  He exhales loudly, preparing to concentrate.  Leaning forward, he placed a hand within the rectangular border, pressing it flat against the smooth rock wall.

            As his fingers make contact, the rock moves back slightly and a loud "click!" is emitted.

            Storm's eyebrows shoot up, his attention immediately jolted into a hypersensitive state.  That sound had not been good.

            "What was that?!  What did you just do?!" El squeals.

            Amos yanks his hand away, but the rock wall does not return to its earlier position.  For a moment there is silence.  Then Amos looks to El, "nothing!  It obviously did nothing!"

            "No...it did something..." Hannibal says, his voice low.  He cocks his head to the side and tugs on the lobe of his ear.  He could hear something.  A low drone.  Perhaps a buzz.  No, a high pitched whine.

            Then, the pattering of small feet from the other side of the bridge.  "Something's coming...even I can hear it!" Skandor says, turning his back to the wall and facing the north end of the bridge.  In the darkness, what sounds like a thousand tiny squeals and footsteps seem to be getting closer and closer.

            Suddenly, into the lantern-light the first of the creatures appears.

            "Rats!" Amos screams!

            "Sumatran rats!" Hannibal corrects the priest.

            They are everywhere, packing the surface of the bridge completely.  Each is fat, brown, and over two feet long.  Those in the front bear their small, sharp teeth as they approach, wiggling their snouts in what, under other circumstances, a small child might find amusing.  But the sight of a pack of these creatures extended as far as the lantern can see (and, presumably further) is not at all amusing.  And, judging by the aggressive advance of the creatures, they are not amused either.


1. HP Status, taking into account the healing in this turn and recent levels-up:

            Canter 22/44, Crayne 24/16, El 18/28, Emma 28/47, Hannibal 14/29, Skandor 25/38, Storm 23/50

2. What are your actions?  The party is located at the southernmost end of the bridge, where it meets with the south wall of the cavern.  You have discovered the lyrics, but it will take a few minutes for Amos to read them.  In the meantime, an indefinite number of exceedingly large and angry rats appears to be advancing across the bridge toward your position.

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