~ The Quest for the Ring of Fire
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Turn 154.0: Crossing
Posted: 6/19/01
(153.3)
Crayne
ponders the mysterious appearance of Covarc for a few moments. 'Why hadn't he come through yet? And why had Emma's god denied that he would
pass through this way? Perhaps the
portal wasn't open to him. That seemed
the most sensible assumption at present.'
He quickly turns his attention back to the statues.
He
smiles towards Hannibal as he sees the second statue tumble over the edge of
the bridge. Hannibal's courage was
unquestionable. Rinder's Six owed a lot
to Hannibal the thief in this battle.
However, the battle sure wasn't over yet. Crayne moves in to help his friends as the armless statue moves
about looking for its next victim.
Keeping his distance from the statue and out of range of its kick, he
tries to circle round to the rear of the statue. Afterall, a mage wouldn't dare take this stone beast on in normal
combat. Once he succeeds in getting
round the back of the statue, he grabs his staff at the top with two hands tightly
grasped. Moving the staff back over his
head, Crayne thrusts the staff downwards with all his might aiming for the
lower back of the stone figure. The
staff connects with the statue with tremendous force, and the impact echoes
through the chamber off the walls and throughout the chasm nearby. Crayne can see four large cracks begin to
appear in the stone before him. As they
grow, so does the mage's smile.
Bruised
and battered on the outside, Skandor the Sword Bearer says a quick prayer of
thanks to Anhur after seeing the second stone behemoth tumble off the edge into
the chasm. Now, the group was merely
faced with an armless stone behemoth...one which, from appearances, was quite
able to continue the fight. Taking a
quick glance at the 'shield' he holds, Skandor casts it aside in
irritation. With several clinks, the
shield breaks up further after landing on the hard, cold stone floor. At the same time, the paladin also drops his
gladius to the ground. Large creatures
sometimes called for large measures.
Reaching
over his shoulder, Skandor smoothly draws forth his claymore, whipping it
instantly into position with a ready familiarity. He knows he is hurt, but rather it be he than his companions, he
thinks. Seeing an opportunity, Skandor
dives back into the fray, whipping his two-hander overhead and down towards the
armless statue. Without arms, a shield,
or anything else to block his attack, the paladin softly prayed to Anhur that
his aim be true, that his blade strike the creature a blow it might never
forget. But the statue is surprisingly
nimble (albeit unaware yet of the extend of Crayne's staff's damage), and
Skandor finds his mighty claymore striking nothing but cold air.
Hannibal
can taste blood as he licks his lips, his nose fully flowing now. A little dazed, he looks on the statue with
concern. Was it enough? He hoped so, he still hadn't recovered fully
from the lightning attack and that last blow had almost been enough. Trying to rise for a minute a rush of nausea
washed over the thief, forcing him back down to a knee.
With
his eyes following the second statue over the edge, however, Hannibal smiles in
triumph, realizing his risky maneuver paid off. One appeared to be enough to keep everyone busy, two would
certainly have spelled defeat. Finding
the strength to rise to a knee, Hannibal knocks an arrow into his bow and drew
back, intent on doing as much as he can!
His arrows both strike the statue, but both seems to crack and break up
on impact. A look of frustration
crosses Hannibal's face as his arrows appear to be ineffective against the
stone beast.
Out
of the corner of her eye, Emma notices Skandor's abrupt departure from the
combat lines, helped along by the statue's giant foot. Frustrated with the ineffectiveness of blades
and arrows, the priestess decides to switch weapons. She drops her broadsword and pulls the haft of her flail from the
belt around her narrow waist. She's
reminded of her weapons trainer back in Seden.
'When
you're faced with an opponent that's built like a rock, or loaded down with
enough armor to look like one, sometimes you've gotta reach for a weapon that
can bust'em up. No slashing
necessary. You'll only dull your blade. Just bash your way through their defense
instead. And remember to use your feet
to make them chase you down in all that heavy armor,' he used to say. Emma tightens her jaw as she swings away
with the chain-and-ball, hoping she's quick enough to avoid the heavy-hitting
statue while she puts her trainer's advice to work. Fully intending to powder enough rock off the statue to form a
pile of dust at her feet if necessary, Emma remains too caught up in the
conflict to even notice Hannibal's success in toppling the second guardian off
the bridge or Crayne's movements to get behind the remaining statue.
With
all her might, Emma yanks on the flail, sending the heavy ball crashing into
the statue's torso, directly opposite the spot where Crayne had just struck
with his magical staff. The combined
strikes are too much for the stone to handle, and with the growing cracks from
the other side beginning to appear on the front of the beast, Emma's flail
finishes the job. The ball impacts upon
the stone, sending rock and dried mud in all directions. The large cracks now run all the way through
the statue, and in seconds the armless beast begins to crumble under its own
weight.
It
begins to lean forward as it crashes down, toward Emma, Skandor and
Canter. Canter jumps back, clearing
himself from the path of the falling beast.
Skandor reaches for Emma, his fingers just barely snagging the shoulder
of Anhur's standard. As he wraps his
fingers around those strings he turns, running as fast as his pained legs will
take him, dragging the Shield Maiden out from under the statue. The Sword Bearer trips on way over a fallen
rock, and as he descends, he flings Emma forward with his last remaining
momentum.
With
a terrific crash, the last of the giant statue falls to the chamber's floor,
just barely missing Skandor. The dust
cloud surrounds the paladin for a moment, but eventually begins to settle, as
the ringing in Canter's ears begins to ease.
Emma
sinks to her knees. She drops the flail
across her nearby sword, the chain links clinking against the naked blade. Her hands feel numb from the pounding shocks
of banging the weapon against solid stone, and she clutches them together,
squeezing the flesh which lies just under her chain-gauntlets. "Gods above," she whispers into
the sudden silence, "What have we done?" The priestess looks at Amos and says, "I fear your god's
wrath for having slain the guardians to one of his holy places. If the other castes are right...and the
other gods fear Anhur and his followers as nothing more than warmongers...what
better evidence than for a Shield Maiden and Sword Bearer to slay the magical
servants of the Artful One? Pray for
us, Amos...and ask our forgiveness of your Lord. Challenge or not, this bodes ill for the days ahead.
"Damn
it!" she curses, picking up the flail and slamming the chain-and-ball into
the cavern floor for good measure. The
act seems to take much of the fire and strength out of her. She grows calmer, though her breath still
comes fast from the exertions of the fight and the turmoil inside her. "I grow tired of making war,
Brother," she says in the direction of Skandor, her head bowed and tears
glimmering in her eyes as she looks at him through a tangle of hair, "How
much longer must we fight? Why can't peace
be ours? Is it so hard to
accomplish? And why must we break so
many precious things along the way?"
The
Sword Bearer looks down towards Emma, sitting on her knees, her hair a mess,
and he can barely make out the tears that threaten to spill down her face. He wipes the spill of blood from the corner
of his mouth, replacing the red with the brown of rock, mud, and dust. His mind races for something to say,
something wise and enlightening to cheer her mood. Catching his own breath, he sheaths his weapons, and clears his
throat a little awkwardly.
"Emma,
there are seldom more than two outcomes to battle: victory, or defeat. We must fight on until we meet one of those
outcomes. Peace is always fleeting,
always temporary. But so is war. Much will be lost along the way, many
sacrifices made...but all for a cause that is just, noble, and right. The Almighty guides you, his vessel, and
even though the path may be blurry, it is rarely straight and narrow. But He guides you with a purpose, an
integral part of his battle-plan. Have
faith in Him...and you shall be triumphant."
Skandor
steps closer to Emma, and offers a weary arm down to her, to help her to her
feet.
Emma
wipes her face and nods. The Sword
Bearer's words sounded like they came straight from the high priests of her
temple. And, for the most part, he was
right. She could take solace in that
bit of her faith. Reaching up, she
allows him to take her arm and rises once again, lifting both her broadsword
and flail as well.
Inwardly
she reflects on the paladin's assertion that peace is always fleeting and
temporary...and that war is the same.
'Both cannot be fleeting,' she thinks to herself, 'They are the
antithesis of one another. In the
absence of war, we have peace. If one
is fleeting, the other must be lasting.
And though small conflicts might occur from time to time, they last even
shorter than wars, and serve only to safeguard peaceful times. Still, I would view those periods as full of
peace with a mind for active defense of it.
It just seems like we've been wrapped up in this conflict with Caerloon
for far too long now. What began as a
skirmish...and a defense of our peace...blossoms into war...and we've come
dangerously close to fighting amongst ourselves rather than against the enemy
from time to time.'
Emma
worries further that the rush to war might have been aided by such philosophies
as the Sword Bearer's. Not by Skandor
himself, really. But rather the
extremists of their caste...the high priests that she argued with for so long
in Seden...and visitors from the other temples. They would certainly believe peace and war should have an equal
share of history. And thus, they might
be seeking out the conflict rather than finding ways to avoid it and head off
the nefarious plans of these Red Dragon renegades.
The
Shield Maiden smoothes back her hair and regards Skandor as he continues to
speak...
"The
statues themselves proclaimed this some sort of 'test.' I believe it was in the mind of their
designers to be destroyed if we proved ourselves the stronger. That we have done. So I do not feel that we will be frowned upon by Hathe, or any
other god for that matter. We simply
overcame the obstacle they put before us, to force us to prove ourselves. That we have also done. For now, it seems we have pursuers, and
perhaps we should ponder any such reprecussions at another time..."
Hannibal
ignores the others conversations and edges closer to the edge of the bridge
where the first statue had teetered over.
Falling to his hands and knees he begins to sob quietly. He remains there, unmoving, for some time.
"Aye,"
Emma agrees wholeheartedly with that assessment, "You're probably right,
Skan. Hathe is ever the Entertainer as
well as the Artist. This test might
have been for His enjoyment, and nothing more than an opportunity to write a
new epic about the heroes that struggled against His guardians. I can only hope that we lived up to his
expectations."
The
Shield Maiden turns and takes a bow in the direction of their defeated foe,
much as any performer would on stage.
Finishing with that, she looks to Amos and the others. "Shall we be on about it, then?"
she suggests, "Covarc seems content to allow us to weaken ourselves in
this place while he lays an ambush outside the portal. We should be careful and conserve our
strength now. We'll have to face him
eventually. Better to do so with a
healthy sword-arm than an exhausted one.
Right, Sword Bearer?"
Emma
smiles and places the flail back on her belt, then sheathes her sword. She nods in the direction of the bridge, and
motions for Hannibal and Storm to clear the way and make sure no further traps
await them. "Let's see if this
play awaits us on the other side," she says.
"Let's
hope," Canter mumbles under his breath, rubbing a sore spot on his
shoulder and sheathing his sword.
"But
first," Skandor says, looking to Hannibal's crouched form near the edge of
the chasm, "some healing." He
steps around the large boulders left over from the statue and reaches Hannibal,
coaxing him away from the edge. Then,
kneeling at the thief's side, Skandor places his hands upon Hannibal's wounds,
closing his eyes and invoking the power of his god. Hannibal can feel the warmth of Skandor's power, and in moments
he feels the strength of the healing power.
(10 hp restored to Hannibal)
Once
the Ritual of Healing is completed, Skandor looks up to Emma and the
others. "Now we may
proceed..."
Carefully,
the party begins to make its way to the bridge. Storm takes the lead, with his thief skills (and his strength)
making sure no more unpleasant surprises lie in their way. Seeing no traps, Storm leads the group onto
the bridge. They move slowly, both for
lack of strength and also so as not to lose balance: the bridge is wide enough
for only a single-file line, and with no banisters, it is a long way down.
Thankfully,
after a few minutes, the party is collected on the other side. The faint light of the portal still glows on
the other side, across the great dark chasm.
But the lanternlight illuminates little. The area in which the party now stands is much smaller than on
the other side. It is, in fact, a
perfect square, about ten feet per side.
The bridge comes in in the center of one of the sides, and on the
opposite side is a doorway, much like the one that lead into the treasure room.
Storm
takes a moment to inspect for traps, but once again finds none. "Not even a Marcus Switch this
time," Hannibal comments after he finishes looking the doorway open.
"You
mean we just open it?" Canter asks, almost in disbelief.
El
scratches his elven chin, "it is not possible that the statues were the
guardians?"
Emma
nods, "Anhur did tell me that they could be a lock or a key..."
"Let's
find out," Hannibal says, looking to Storm.
The
dwarf nods, reaching for the center of the door and giving it a little
push. Nothing. Then, with a gulp, Storm repeats the
gesture, this time adding more pressure on the wood of the door. Again, nothing.
Storm
growls. "I not be fightin' through
that ton o' rock to be stopped by no wooden door!"
"Easy
there," Emma says, placing a hand on Storm's shoulder. "There must be another way...we need
only find it."
1. HP
Status:
Canter:
22/44, Crayne: 24/16, Elloharin: 7/28, Emma: 22/47, Hannibal: 16/29, Skandor:
15/38, Storm: 14/50.
2.
According to my records, EMMA has the following spells available:
Level
1: Cure Light Wounds
Level
2: Remove Paralysis
Level
3: Dispel Magic, Summon Animal Spirit
3.
According to my records, CRAYNE has the following spells available:
Level
1: Color Spray, Detect Magic
Level
2: Knock
4.
According to my records, ELLOHARIN has the following spells available:
Level
1: Feather Fall, Taunt, Wall of Fog
Level
2: Blindness
~ The Quest for the Ring of Fire
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