Saturday, February 28, 2009

Bristol Watch Patrol

A bell tolled loudly through the bustling streets of Bristol Watch, an event more ominous than unusual. Inside the Bristol Watch Inn, Rend-fol heard the metallic chime and turned his head away from the bar to scan the crowd's reaction. Almost immediately, locals and new arrivals alike began murmuring as they put down drinks and forks and made for the door. Rend looked back at his new acquaintance, Rhogar, and asked, "A town summons? The people here don't seem surprised by the bell."

Rhogar took a long pull from his tankard, his scaled hide glistening in a rainbow of subdued hues. He paused for a moment, unleashed a terrific belch, and said, "No, they wouldn't be surprised. Hobgoblins frequently raid the surrounding farmlands. Cairth defends when he can, but we're talking large tracts of land here, none of it walled or fortified. Most likely, the bell rings to summon and organize the militia for patrols and defensive positions."

"Fight for this shit hole ? I'd advise pulling up stakes and following the shortest path to civilization," said Rend, smiling slightly.

"Stranger, that's the second time you've insulted my home. Do it again, and I'll test out how well my axe cuts through those wisps floating on the top of your noggin."

"I'm no lumberjack, but you look tall and thick. Maybe I should shout 'timber' so you don't fall and smother someone when I kill you."

The dragonborn set his tankard down on the bar and stood up, grasping the shaft of his great axe without even looking. Rhogar re-positioned it with both his massive paws, muscles flexing and rippling. He said nothing but took a combat stance, waiting. The bar was already clearing for the summons, but the crowd's pace quickened at the sight of the two armed men squaring off. From behind the bar, the inn keeper yelled, "Eh, Rhogar! You best be throwing this one back. I warn, you'll be payin' for the damages! Unlike last time!"

Rend's smile faded as he gazed darkly at Rhogar. His arms hung at his sides, his right fist alternately clenching and relaxing. The genasi took a quick glance around the now empty common room and then back at Rhogar. He seemed to be calculating something completely unrelated to the current confrontation. Finally, Rend turned his back to the dragonborn and strode out the bar in silence. Quinn nodded at the genasi as he walked out, but if Rend saw him, he gave no sign. Mikala leaned over to Quinn and remarked, "Nice social skills on that one." Quinn smiled and nodded, watching Rhogar lean his axe once more against the bar and grasp his tankard.

Outside, Rend saw what must have been the entire population of Bristol Watch converge at the Town Hall, a new building smelling of sap and pine. Mounted and waiting outside the doors of the Hall, Captain Cairth studied the flow of people with a tactical eye. Though most of the crowd were citizens of the small town, Rend noticed quite a few new arrivals, most of whom packed heavy weapons and armor with hardened countenances to boot. The genasi rearranged the sword strapped to his back and then walked confidently into the milling crowd until he was directly in front of the Captain.

"Captain," Rend called out, attempting to attract Cairth's attention. Cairth pretended to not hear, turning his head away and scanning the other side of the growing crowd. Irritated, Rend called out again, though this time more loudly. Cairth slowly turned his head back to Rend, his eyes narrowing.

"What." It was a statement, not a question.

"So what's going on?" Rend inquired.

Cairth eyed Rend for a moment, a flicker of recognition registering on his face. "You're that genasi that claimed Dirg Stiggler was most righteous in his beating of that farm boy. Said the hin had been cheated."

"Yeah, that's right." Rend crossed his arms over his chest and waited impertinently.

"Well son, I don't know how that kind of thing goes down where you're from, but around here, we don't take a pound a flesh for the smallest slights. You best keep that in mind for future encounters with my citizenry."

Before Rend could respond, the Captain clucked his tongue, lurching his horse forward into the crowd. When he got to the middle, he brought the horse to a halt and addressed the crowd in a commanding voice. "We've got hobgoblin raids up and down our farmlands. Looting, pillaging, even few reports of deaths. Sloan here brought the bodies of the Haskins family this past hour. I hope those to be the only casualties, but my gut tells me there'll be more. We'll be forming up militia patrols throughout the rest of the day and tonight. Lighter forces will walk the first part, and we'll save our strongest forces for the night, when the hobs are more active. I'll be expectin' every able bodied citizen to do his part. Bring what weapons you have, mounts too if you got them. New visitors to Bristol Watch, you aren't obligated to fight, but we'll pay you if you do. Rhogar! Galinndan!"

The Captain scanned the crowd until he spotted the dragonborn's head towering well over everyone else. "Ah, Rhogar, you're a difficult man to spot, what with that delicate profile you cut." The crowd laughed and Cairth continued. "Rhogar, I want you and Galinndan to manage visitor recruitment."

Rhogar nodded, effortlessly heaving his axe on his shoulder. Another man appeared next to him, a blacksmith by attire, and said, "It will be done."

Cairth nodded in approval and said, "For the rest that aren't fighting or patrolling, I'm declaring martial law. I want the inn and businesses closed and the citizenry to stay in their homes. The Town Hall is reserved for the refugees of the surrounding farmlands. That is all."

Cairth reared his horse back and cantered back to the Town Hall. He dismounted and immediately began issuing orders. The crowd immediately dispersed, some heading home to cower fearfully in their homes, others grimly checking equipment and swinging weapons.

Back to Str8 Rippin'!

Craig, the Dungeon Master of our hearts and our dungeons lo these past months stepped down last week and Blake officially took over the reigns last night. New Dungeon Master, new campaign, new characters. Well, mostly. All new but for Orchid, the tiny but vicious rogue.

The following is a breakdown of the party:

Dale - Human Cleric
Galinndan - Eladrin Fighter/Wizard
Gwenn - Half-elf Warlock
Orchid - Halfing Rogue
Quinn - Half-elf Artificer
Rend-fol - Genasi Swordmage
Rhogar - Dragonborn Barbarian

The campaign began with Orchid rolling into the tiny frontier town of Bristol Watch, deep in the Vilhon Wilds. Driving a cart full of supplies, Orchid delivers the cargo and then encounters the rest of the adventurers already about town. Rhogar and Galinndan are locals, but everyone else just recently arrived, all for various reason--some mysterious, other more mundane.

Look for future blog entries to pick up on the basis of this storyline. The group's name reverts back to "Str8 Rippin'" as an incentive for someone to come up with a better party name.

Sunday, February 22, 2009

The Fall of Cedric

Summary:

Before plunging into yet another rune portal, the Victors paused for a moment to investigate four separate sets of doors. The first two sets led to the same room, a large chamber containing alchemical equipment and a glass cube full of bronze tubing and the floating head of a warder. Gareth took a couple of whacks at the cube, the glass shattering. Acid showered from the broken fissure, sizzling into Gareth's armor and skin. A robed figure suddenly popped next to Gareth and screamed, "Oh, you will pay for that, I assure you. You will all pay!" and then disappeared just as abruptly. The adventurers continued exploring the other two sets of doors, one leading to a library full of books with no words and the other a rune circle. Gilic collected a phial of acid from the other room and used it to destroy the binding of the runes. Everyone else made way to the last rune portal.

Just as they were about to step through, Queequeg screamed in pain. An imp suddenly materialized next to the dragonborn, its barbed tail lashing back trailing a wisp of blood. The demon disappeared before Queequeg could retaliate, so the dragonborn stepped through the portal instead, emerging inside a small room with three doors and four familiar crystal pillars. All but Taegahn and Cedric followed and the final battle began in earnest.

Orchid tried a door and found it to be locked. She quickly picked it open, revealing an empty room. The door directly north of it was locked too and stubbornly refused to open. The crystal pillars pulsed with energy soon enough and quickly the party came under psychic attack from hidden enigmas of Cyric. Queequeg, Gareth, and Gilic all tried to barrel through the door and hack it down, but it refused to budge. Meanwhile, Shava tried the final closed door. The handle surprised her when it turned with well-oiled ease. She swung the door open revealing a massive chamber, a thirty by thirty skull insignia of Cyric on the floor, the large skull statue on the wall opposite the door. Standing on top of the insignia, another bronze minotaur warden. The mechanical abomination whirled its head at Shava and began to stride towards her, swinging its axe with artificial precision.

Gilic raced past the priest and faced the warden head on. Three norkers suddenly sprung from either side of the wall and attacked the brave dwarf as well. Paldemar came into view from the very back of the room and began cackling loudly. The insane wizard paused a moment, concentrating strangely. Tall, sheer crystal prism throughout the chamber blinked in response and Paldemar seemed strengthened by them. He focused crackling lightning at the party, often arcing his strikes to three heroes.

The ensuing battle was pitched. Cedric cast spells at Paldemar bravely and strategically, hampering the wizard enough to blunt his elemental assaults. But Cedric soon found himself beseiged by both Paldemar and a Norker that had tore away from Gilic and Gareth. The mage finally collapsed from his wounds, unconscious and close to death. Shava darted underneath the rampaging warden and made her way to Cedric side. Time stood still for a second as she smiled down at him, placed her hand lightly on his forehead, and muttered a prayer to Corellon. Cedric's face relaxed in response as he stabilized. Shava sighed with relief, but as she arose, a crystal pillar unleashed a bolt of lightning on the helpless wizard. Shava screamed, "No!" but to little avail. Cedric breathed no more.

The death of their friend pushed the rest to fight harder and soon norkers and warden fell at the hands of Gareth and Taegahn. Gilic and Orchid encircled Paldemar and slew him before he could escape through the skull Cyric insignia. The adventurers finally made their way to the first room with the stubborn door and cut down the enigmas of Cyric, their shrieks drowned out by the rage and grief of the wounded, battle weary heroes.

Their foes dead, the party collapsed next to the still form of Cedric. Tears were shed. Sobs choked down. Finally, Gilic said, "Ack, he was good laddy. A wee bit chatty at times, but one of the good ones."

Gareth chuckled, "Yeah. Remember when he thought he could fly? He had to crawl across that blood chamber's ceiling like a hermit crab when it turned out he could only levitate."

The rest of the party laughed along with Gareth. A silence then came over them. Taegahn finally stood and said, "So, uh, what do we do with him now?"

When no one said anything, Shava responded, "We could take him back to Cormyr and perform a ritual to bring him back." Her idea seemed more a question then a statement.

The heroes glanced around at each other awkwardly. After a long time passed, Queequeg said, "I don't know, that seems like an awful lot of trouble. What with dragging the body back, storing the corpse, paying for the components. I heard the ritual only requires a thumb-sized piece of the person, but who wants that in their satchel for the next week?" The dragonborn's voice trailed off. No one said anything.

Gilic coughed uncomfortably. Orchid suddenly chimed in, "Say, didn't we meet a wizard in Seven-pillared Halls? That half-elf with the lazy eye and strange smell?"

Taegahn's face brightened. "Yeah, yeah. Babar, I think his name was. He asked if he could join up with us but we told him to piss off because, you know, we already had a wizard with a lazy eye and strange smell. Hey, do you think he's still there?"

Shava clapped her hands together happily and cheered, "Let's go see!"

"To Seven Pillared Halls!" Gareth bellowed. Gilic grinned broadly, slapping the fighter on the back smartly.

And so, the Victors of Shadowfell Keep made ready to depart, but not before relieving Cedric of his notable gear and coinage. The heroes shuffled out of the chamber one at time, Queequeg the last. The dragonborn paused before exiting, turning back for a final look. Cedric, stripped down to his underwear, lay still and calm, seemingly sleeping but for the charred flesh and the blood trickling down from his nose and mouth.

"Uh, yeah," Queequeg intoned apologetically and then turned and left the labyrinth forever.

Sunday, February 15, 2009

Fun With Runes

Summary:

Flush with gold for quests well done, the Victors heaped patronage upon Seven Pillared Hall vendors, buying the mundane and the magical with equal abandon. Outfitted with powerful new implements, and party set out once more.

Key in hand, Orchid led the party down a twisting corridor. Some twenty yards outside Seven Pillared Hall, a set of runes burst into color on the floor in front of the party. At the same time, the key flew from the rogue's hand and into the side of the wall. The party heard an audible click as the key turned and a doorway emerged. The door slid open with a grinding sound, revealing a passageway and a room beyond.

VoSfK eased cautiously into the room. Inside, a spectral image inside a circle of runes cackled insanely about a range of seemingly random talking points, a common theme revolving around the futility of organized thought and sound. Gilic grimaced and said, "What ho, minion of Cyric? You babble incoherently with the best of his ilk." The visage responded with insane laughter and motioned slightly. Seven more images suddenly materialised along the perimeter of the runed circle. Each was a copy of a party member, though twisted, withered, mad versions of the originals. The minion of Cyric laughed with delight at the new arrivals and said, "Answer correctly the questions put forth by you and you may pass. Hahahahahahahahaha. Answer incorrectly and doom yourself to spreading Cyric's blessing of strife and torment upon Toril."

Each member approached their doppelganger and took turns answering questions specific to their profession and life experiences. Most answered correctly, enough so that the cackling Cyricist and his summoned images disappeared with a soft pop. "May Corellon protect us," Shave intoned as she pushed past the party and stepped onto the runes. She disappeared in a cloud of crackling ozone. The rest of the party followed.

Upon teleporting next to a duplicate rune circle, Taegahn strode through a short archway into a large room sprinkled with odd-looking pillars. The two nearest began to hum and vibrate and then suddenly pulsed translucent energy at the ranger. Taegahn screamed in agony as a thousand mind pricks pierced his mortal consciousness. The agony faded quickly but Taegahn staggered away, his battle prowess blunted.

The rest of the party fanned out. Queequeg and Orchid made first contact with a band of norkers, distant cousins to the swampy troglodyte. Orchid cried out, "Incoming!" and the two formed a weak front against the coming wave. Soon the rest of the adventurers swarmed to their aid and a massive battle ensued. In the back of the room, a new set of runes glowed cheerfully, sporadically churning out norker reinforcements. When the last norker fell, Shava said, "I'm going in" and then ran into the portal. Gareth yelled, "Shava!" but the cleric was gone before he could finish. The warrior muttered a curse and then followed suit, Queequeg right behind him.

At the same time, Orchid focused on a nearby door. She jiggled the handle and found it locked. She next attempted to pick the lock but it stubbornly refused to open. Gilic took a running charge at the portal but promptly bounced off. Gareth reappeared out of the rune portal and said, "Minotaur construct. Big" before he quickly accessed the problem at hand and plunged his great axe into the door. It fell before him revealing an empty room but for the two slobbering enigmas of Vecna. The party instantly inferred this pair as responsible for channeling psychic energy through the pillars. Queequeg followed Gareth through the rune portal and immediately charged one of the aspects. Shava came out of the portal grinning saying, "By Corellan, that's one angry minotaur." The party got to work on the two Vecna mindslayers and the two horrors were quickly slain.

The party rested briefly as Gareth explained what waited beyond the runed portal: a massive minotaur construct armed with a proportional great axe. The Victors readied themselves and then arranged for two teams to port back to the construct. The first wave teleported back to face not just the construct, but newly arrived norker and enigma of Vecna reinforcements. Gareth, Gilic, and Taegahn moved to face the construct, while the rest of the party harried the norkers and enigmas. Cedric cast a moving glob of snow and ice and damaged and slowed a good chunk of the enemy, while everyone else hacked and parried and thrust. Finally, Taegahn took careful aim and felled the churning minotaur. It collapsed hard, metal parts bursting and twisting at acute angles, the sound of metal on stone reverberating throughout the chamber. The enigmas paused for a moment as the metal heap came to a piled halt. They suddenly turned around and ran into yet another runed portal as the norker howled in fury at the naked cowardice.

The party soon silenced their indignant screaming.

TO BE CONTINUED

Line(s) of the Night:

"I don't have a dick." - Megan, explaining to Simon the physiological differences between them.

Sunday, February 8, 2009

White Light

The party awoke to a pounding fist outside their inn room doors. Groggy and sleepy eyed, Orchid opened her door and poked her head out. She spied Uthlin hammering away two doors down, shouting, "Ach! I nuu yor 'in there, thieves. I bought the crown fair and square from ye and stealing it after a fair exchange was a sorry bit of dirty pool to be playin'."

In the midst of his tirade, Uthlin hadn't yet spotted Orchid who stepped out and waved a friendly greeting. "Hello there, good Uthlin. How's that pig of yours?"

The dwarf stopped mid-pound and whirled to face Orchid. His eyes narrowed down to slits and he crossed his arms in front of him as he squared his shoulders and feet to face the halfing. "Oh, he's just dandy, thanks for askin'. I suppose you'll be stealing him next, will ya? Worth a pretty penny, my sweet Uthlik, but not exactly fittin' in your pocket, is he now?"

Orchid's face scrunched in confusion. "Um, Uthlin? What are you talking about?"

"You nuu very damn well wat I'm talkin' abuut. And if yuu dunna return it right nuu, I'll put me sweet Uthlik in your pocket meself and bid him chew is way out, if ya get me meanin'."

Hair standing straight up from a particularly restful sleep, Cedric poked his head out the door. "Return what?" he asked as he smoothed his hair back. "Are you talking about the pig's leash? Because I think we returned that too."

Uthlin's face turned beet red. The dwarf lowered his arms to his side, fists clenched and took a step towards the two adventurers. Spittle shot from his moth as he shouted, "YOU NUU DAMN FOOKIN' WELL I'M NOOT TALKIN' ABOUT THE DAMN FOOKIN' LEASH. The crown, twit elf! The crown! I bought it from yuu fair and square and now i's gone and I nuu you took it!"

Orchid and Cedric looked at each other and then back at Uthlin. "Um, Uthlin, we didn't steal your crown. You see, we never sold it to you in the first place. Remember?"

Uthin's rage boiled over, but he lowered his voice as he unbuckled the axe at his hip. "Nuu, I remember no such thing. I guess we'll be doin' this the hard way then. Which is fine by me as I could use a bit of exercise."

The dwarf swung the axe at empty air and then sprang at Orchid with remarkable speed, taking the rogue so unaware, she didn't feel the axe sink into her chest until the blood began bubbling into her lungs, up her throat, out her mouth and down her chin. Cedric stopped managing his hair long enough to shriek with surprise. The mage tried to slam the door shut, but Orchid's limp body thoroughly blocked the egress, her limp head repeatedly squished between swiveling wood and the door jam. Uthlin leaped over the hafling's carcass and cornered Cedric. Queequeg sat up from a bed in the room, sleepily asking, "How's that now? What's all ruckus?"

"Quiet lizard! I've had enoof of your scaly hide to last me a life time!" Uthin hopped deftly to the bed and sunk his axe deep into the dragonborn's skull. The dwarf chortled with glee at the shattering sound. "Ahahahaha! Now that was an egg worth crackin'!" He turned to a cowering Cedric. "And nuu for the main course."

Cedric tucked his head behind his arms and wept for mercy. Uthlin laughed. "Too late for that, twig. Me axe will be tastin' your hide. I might slip and slide in your blood and guts lookin' for the crown later, but that's a price well worth payin'. Nuu say a pray to your maker! It's time to crack another egg!"

Cedric peered out from behind his sleeve. Uthlin stood directly in front of him, axe raised high. The dwarf laughed madly as he began to bring the axe down on the hapless mage. Suddenly, the room got brighter. Just as steel met skin and bone, white light washed over the entire room. Uthlin and his axe faded away in a flash. When color returned, Cedric gazed around the room. Orchid and Queequeg slumbered peacefully across from him. The mage reached up to the top of head and felt blood leaking from a mild cut. Cedric shuddered.

He exhaled, "What the fuck."

Sunday, February 1, 2009

The Green Dragon

Summary:

"So, does everyone have their assignments?"

Shava scanned the chamber. Her fellow adventurers grunted affirmations as they made ready for the battle ahead. As they walked out of the chamber to stand at their posts, Shava blessed them, "May Selune protect you."

Together, Orchid and Shava had outlined a plan to begin the ritual within the Well of Demons. With all four ritual pieces in hand, the rogue and cleric placed teams of two at each of the runed pedestals: Shava and Gareth in the room next to the bars, Gilic and Cedric in the room with the broken statues, Orchid and Taegahn in the room with the alter to Baphomet, and Queequeg in the room with the four colored pools. The previous day, Cedric, Orchid, and Queequeg had tasted from the four pools, discovering that red and green provided some kind of enchantment, while yellow poisoned and blue seemed to do nothing. The green water specifically protected against poison, so all but Shava drank from it before the ritual began. With all the doors in the Well spiked open, the teams made their way to the runed pedestals.

The stage was set. The countdown begun. On the count of three, the ritual pieces, mask, tome, bell, and blade, were set down on the pedestals. From deep within the dungeon's bowels, machinery churned to life. Gareth, closest to the magically bound doors, watched carefully as the barrier vibrated slightly and then began to creak open. In the middle of the Well, a bestial roar echoed out from the bottom of the massive pit. Around the pit, a ball of force shimmered into being and rolled clockwise around a grooved path, like a moon in orbit at breakneck speed.

Suddenly, skeletal arms erupted from the stone floor and attempted to grab Shava and Gareth. The Baphomet alter screamed a subliminal message at Taegahn, forcing the ranger to run into the path of the ball of force. Gilic and Cedric drew fire from hidden crossbow traps embedded in the wall. And Queequeg was enveloped by a blob that oozed out of the deceptively benign blue pool. To make matters worse, the dreams that had plagued Queequeg's sleep suddenly coalesced into an irresistible urge to hunt down and slay the party's beloved priestess, Shava.

In full blood rage, Queequeg easily broke from the blob that was trying to drag him into its hued depths and sprinted directly to Shava's last known location. He spotted her quickly and charged. His rage broke the moment he struck her and he cried out, "Hold, dear Shava. I was not myself!" The priestess paused for a moment and then lowered her mace. Rather than striking the recently possessed warlord, she instead brought forth a divine light to push back the subterranean skeleton hands; a few hands went limp, but too many still grabbed at feet and ankles.

Across the Well, Gilic and Cedric encountered the source of the earlier roar as a massive green dragon swooped into their room, attacking and biting the dwarf as it flew by. Also under fire by the crossbows, Gilic and Cedric shouted their retreat as they made his way past the force ball and back to the Well's middle chamber. Taegahn, Gareth, Queequeg also sprinted across the Well to reinforce Gilic's pull. Orchid, intrigued by the crossbow turrets, made her way to the statue room and attempted to disarm them.

The green dragon pursued Cedric and Gilic back to the middle chamber, the force ball passing through it harmlessly. The majority of the party awaited it, none more eager than Queequeg. The dragonborn charged it on sight. The warlord's sword blow rang loudly over his primal scream and the dragon despaired at the sight of such rage and found its movement hindered. Gareth also charged, his axe tearing into the dragon's hide and sprouting hot springs of blood. Taegahn and Cedric fired from range and together, the party began to defeat the dragon.

Shava, meanwhile, continued pulsing forth divine energy until the last skeletal hand went limp. Orchid tried to disarm the turret traps, but while she tinkered, they continued pumping bolts into her. She finally succumbed, on the verge of death.

Taegahn sensed his little friend in need and sprinted out of the middle chamber, with Shava close behind. Upon entering the statue room, Taegahn fell upon the rogue, shielding her from the worst of the fire. Shava arrived on scene and brought Orchid back from the brink. Under focus fire from the rest of the party, the dragon suddenly disappeared! The gigantic lizard teleported to the statue room, prepared to unleash a gaseous cloud on soft prey. The rest of the party ran to the statue room where the dragon made its last stand, finally succumbing to a very healthy dagger barrage by none other than Orchid.

As the dragon rasped its last breath, the party paused a moment, chests heaving from exertion and wounds alike. Machinery continued thundering from below, but then stopped ominously with a thud that rippled through the dungeon like a wave.

The door was now open. The final battle awaited.

TO BE CONTINUED

Sunday, January 25, 2009

Whip It Good

Summary:

Gilic stooped down and lowered his gauntlet into the pool. On the surface, it appeared as a red, viscous substance. Upon taking his hand out, Gilic straightened and gazed across the chamber's full expanse. Just fifteen feet away, an island platform arose straight from the pool. Atop it, a massive iron minotaur statue, jointed at the limbs and holding a coiled whip. Taegahn squinted and noted dried blood at the whip's end. In the middle of the chamber, a stone walkway some twenty feet wide. At the far end, another large platform displaying a second minotaur statue, its whip less coiled, but similarly bloodied on the ends. To the left and right of that platform, smaller stone islands, one holding a hilt, the other a blade.

"The blood, it burns," Gilic said, holding out his smoldering glove. "And I don't like the jointed look of those statues either."

"Nor I," Taegahn replied as he stepped forward and loosed an arrow at the farthest minotaur. The minotaur didn't react as the arrow's impact echoed over the current of the blood pool.

"I think I can jump that," said Gareth. Of like mind, Queequeg motioned for Taegahn to step away and then sprinted across the foyer. The dragonborn lept across the channel of blood and onto the platform, his clawed feet scratching for purchase as his arms spun for balance. A second later, he righted himself and peered cautiously at the inanimate statue.

He looked back at the party and rumbled, "What are the chances this statue isn't going to come alive?"

"Ack, uhboot as good as your mother not walking the streets tonigh for rat blood money," quipped Gilic.

"By Bahamut's sacred hide! Halfpint, I'm going to jump back over there and dip you head first into the blood. If you come out with any hair left on that patch you call a beard, at the very least the fleas--"

The dragonborn never finished as an evistro suddenly jumped out of the blood pool and pulled him down off the platform and into the drink. As the same time, a loud winding sound could be heard from underneath, like chains on a pulley; the nearest minotaur jerked to life, its movements scripted and choppy, its whip uncoiling.

Gareth reacted instantly, taking a running jump and landing on the platform Queequeg just vacated. He brought his great axe up high and drove it hard into the statue's hide, a resounding blow that vibrated through the weapon into the fighter's feet and arms. Taegahn responded with devastating firepower, calling upon ancient boar ancestors to drive back the evistro. Cedric cast a ray of frost upon the carnage demon just before it dove back into the red murky depths. At 6' 8", Queegqueg's head emerged from the surface of the blood pool, his face grimacing with pain as he waded back to the initial foyer.

Unseen mech arcana suddenly crackled with energy as the minotaur statue roared to full animation, cracked its whip back, and unleashed a whip blow that struck everyone within 35 feet of him. Most of the party was hit and driven back, except for Gareth who managed to anchor himself to his position like a boulder against the tide. Returned to the foyer, Queequeg jumped once more across the pool, joining Gareth next to the statue. The fighter continued raining blows upon the statue. Gilic attempted a similar jump, but cannonballed spectacularly into the pool, well short of the platform. Marking Gilic's air bubbles, Orchid attempted to use Gilic's head as a stepping stone to reach the statue, but she also landed in the pool with a thick splash. Shava also attempted a jump but missed; the cleric began wading to the chamber's central walkway.

Meanwhile, Taegahn lightly jumped from the minotaur platform to the central walkway in what appeared to be a single bound. The second minotaur came to life as the ranger's foot touched the second walkway; Taegahn never seemed to stop as he unloaded on statue and evistro alike at every opportunity. Cedric cast a spell that lifted him high into the air. Upon reaching the ceiling, however, the wizard flailed about, arms and legs gyrating in a vain attempt to launch himself forward. "It seems I, uh, can float but not fly," Cedric mused, "I thought for certain a spell named 'levitate' would grant free-range flight."

Emerging from the blood pool, dripping in liquid gore, Shava sighed contemptuously at the mage. "Dammit Cedric, use the walls and ceiling to push your way across."

"Ah, capital idea!" the wizard replied. Tilting horizontally, Cedric floated as close to the ceiling as he could and grabbed for any handholds he could find as he slowly made his way across the chamber.

Taegahn, meanwhile, studied the whipping motion of the second minotaur and plotted a strategy. As the whip circled around the chamber, the ranger timed the lash's approach to him and grabbed for it. He deftly hung on as the whip continued its circular arc over the blood pool and released his grasp just over the smaller platform. Taegahn landed expertly and grabbed the hilt.

Queequeg plucked Orchid out of the pool just as Gareth fell the spinning minotaur. Shava conjured a divine hammer that rained blows upon the farthest statue as Cedric continued to float ponderously towards the platform holding the blade. Evistros continued harassing the party, attempting to pull in and submerge anyone standing next to the pool. After making his way to the central walkway, Gareth vaulted himself more than 20 feet across the pool to the opposite statue platform. His great axe poised to strike, Gareth saw he was going to fall just short of the platform. At the very last moment, he swung his axe down. Steel met stone as the blade sunk deep into the floor, anchoring Gareth enough to pull himself face-to-face with the remaining statue.

The party finished off the remaining minotaur after Cedric lowered himself down to fetch the blade. Pursued by the remaining evistros, one by one the adventurers leapfrogged across platforms or waded through blood and headed back to the entrance door.

The Victors retreated deep into the Well and broke camp. Orchid set the blade and hilt side-by-side as Queequeg took out a pair of spectacles and studiously examined the two artifacts. Shava did a double take at the warlord and said, "Dragonborn, your spectacles."

"Hmm?" Queequeg said, distracted by his study.

"They don't have lenses in them."

"That's right."

Shava glanced at the rest of the party for insight. Cedric shrugged his shoulders while Queequeg suddenly snatched the two pieces, connected the hilt to the blade at a 90 degree angle, and then twisted while pressing a hidden button at its base. The blade merged together with a blue glow that faded within a second.

Queequeg intoned, "The Blade of Baphomet. A deadly effective weapon in its own right, but forged to be wielded only by a minotaur. Any other race that tries to use it will go berserk with blood lust."

"So if we handed it to Orchid, we really wouldn't notice a difference, huh?" Gareth said.

The Victors paused for a moment and then broke out laughing in unison, their shoulders moving up and down with the force of their mirth.

The laughing continued longer than it should.

TO BE CONTINUED

Phat Lewt(z):

The Blade of Baphomet
The Mask of Baphomet

Line(s) of the Night:

"I load and cock Orchid!" - Simon, metaphorically referring to the deadly weapon that is Orchid.