5e WNW - Session 18 of the weird new world campaign was played on Friday 7/10
The party consisted of the following:
Nessendra, Wood Elf Cleric 5 (Erindale)
Kethra, Human Fighter 5 (Nikki)
Bach, Dragonborn Warlock 5 (Erik)
Riia, Human Ranger 5 (Hanna)
Guy Noir, ½ Elf Rogue 5 (Nadia - Absent, kindly played by Julia)
Anya Bowen, Tiefling Ranger 5 (Allison)
Previous report of this session here. This report was written by Nikki:
SO... Expanded recount.
Last Friday we had wiped out a clutch of gargoyles. One was attempting to flee. As we resumed, our Warlock (dragonborn who seems to think he's a barbarian) was giving chase. The fighter (basic human me) was following the warlock because omg. Two rangers (one ranger and a "city ranger" *coughROGUEcough*) an -actual- rogue *coughManWhorecough* and the cleric are also following.
The two rangers are encumbered by carrying a sarcophagus (what happens in dungeons, stays in dungeons) so they miss the action. I manage to catch up to the gargoyle as it exits onto a balcony. I body slam that sucker (which we have decided looks like Brooklyn) and start choking it with my great-maul. (As much as one can choke a stone thing. The maul is from a "small" giant's leg bone. Many bone jokes. Many, many bone jokes.) As the gargoyle is stone and clearly not having any issue with the choking, he decides to launch himself off the balcony with me on his back.
I shriek for help. The party pours out the hall door onto the balcony (except the rangers who are at least three rounds behind us because sarcophagus). The warlock fires a few eldrich blasts at the beastie, one of which bounces off the shield strapped to my back. I begin to include the warlock in the set of vile curses that had previously been reserved for the gargoyle (the cleric reminds me about my language in her best Captain America tone).
The gargoyle moves to leap off the balcony, which is over a waterfall and a hundred foot rocky drop to the pool below to the tune of rushing water and free-flowing cussing. The cleric smites the gargoyle with some kind of holy fire crap that amazingly doesn't hurt me (Yay D&D and cleric spells meaning no friendly fire!). The gargoyle begins to disintegrate, with me still on it's back, as it's falling off the railing.
My bone-maul goes flying into the nothingness and drops down to the pool below. I try desperately to run down the gargoyle's spine and back onto the railing. Or jump off it's tail. Or... Something... But fail my dex save. I use my inspiration point, and CRIT fail my dex save. I fall. I hit rocks. I bounce off rocks. I splash down in the pool a hundred feet below. I sink. I -don't- fail my constitution save. I remain conscious... ... ... For now.
The rogue (man-whore-thing) not-so-selflessly throws himself off the edge to save me. The whole party speculates what he'll do to "resuscitate" me when he gets to me, while he hits the same rocks I hit on the way down. He splashes down in the pool, managed to take less damage than I did (which is fortunate, because he has fewer hit points than I do), and flounders in the bubbles a bit. He quickly comes to realize that the bubbles... tickle... Oooh...
One of the rangers (the real one) drops her end of the sarcophagus and joins the rest of the party on the balcony. The cleric prays for help from Korlon. The warlock retrieves rope from his pack and throws it over the edge... The warlock pulls FIFTY feet of rope back up from the ONE HUNDRED foot drop, demands someone else's fifty-foot rope and begins to tie the ends together.
I remain conscious! I can tell up from down, but not much else. Everything hurts. I think my armor is dented up into my spleen. I grasp at the rocks on the bottom of the pool and start dragging myself... somewhere... I hope it's toward the shore. Not sure how long I'm going to stay conscious...
The ranger (real one) takes up the double-length rope and throws herself over the side to repel down to my rescue. The warlock's eyes must have gone pretty wide when he saw this, since he hadn't managed to tie the end off anywhere yet. Warlock fails strength check, and the rope tears through his hands for ten points of rope-burn damage ("They look like big, strong hands, don't they? I always thought; that's what they were...") The ranger realizes her mistake, makes a dex save like a boss, and turns that free-fall into some Olympic diving action. She spots the rogue and my helpless self right off the bat. The rogue appears to be … erm... Enjoying the bubbles, so to speak... I don't seem to be having such a grand time, so she swims my way, while the cleric heals the warlock's hands.
The cleric prays to Korlon further for divine intervention, convinced she's killed one of her allies, as I fail to realize that the tugging and pulling is someone (the ranger) trying to save me and fight to cling to the rocks that I'm using to pull myself... To shore? I hope that’s the way to shore... The ranger probably hates me for resisting, but that's the way the bitter bastardly dice roll.
The other ranger finally manages to push the sarcophagus out onto the balcony above the cliff with the warlock and the cleric. “Where is everybody? And what was all that screaming about?” The warloc takes rope from the cleric and the other ranger *coughRoguecough* and the they spend even -more- time fumbling with tying these ropes together since “I'm not that kind of ranger!” Though to their credit, they secure this rope. >.>
I finally pass out, making it much easier for the ranger to drag my dead weight to the shore. The cleric, quickly descending the latest rope, rushes right over for some much needed healing. The rogue quits playing with the bubbles and pulls his pants up. The “city” ranger devises a clever pulley system, which the DM points out we lack the materials for and is thus nixed. I'm stabilized, and everyone is climbing back up to the balcony. The cleric is down to one healing spell and we're all damaged to some degree or another.
But wait! Where is the warrior's bone (great-maul)?! I tell the rogue (man-wore-thing) that if he can find my bone, he can touch it. The rogue quickly descends the rope and spends an hour swimming around the pool below to find my weapon. But he does persevere and return with my great-maul. So we head back to the vault where we found the sarcophagus, toting the sarcophagus with us, to set up camp for a full rest to restore hit points and spell slots.
That, my friends, is how a dead gargoyle almost killed half the party.
Next week: Plot advancement... We hope. XD
Showing posts with label guest post. Show all posts
Showing posts with label guest post. Show all posts
Saturday, August 1, 2015
Monday, March 16, 2015
Saying Nope to Yet Another Adventure! 5e WNW
Session 9 of the weird new world campaign was played on Friday 2/20
The party consisted of the following:
Verdt, 1/2 Elf Wizard 3 (John)
Nessendra, Wood Elf Cleric 3 (Erindale)
Kethra, Human Fighter 3 (Nikki)
Bach, Dragonborn Warlock 3 (Erik)
Riia, Human Ranger 3 (Hanna)
Guy Noir, ½ Elf Rogue 2 (Nadia)
Anya Bowen, Tiefling Ranger 2 [Allison (Absent)]
Now that the giant skeletons are out of the way, the party members have the leisure to actually look around the Temple. Bach peers under the propped open door to check for Blightfang’s presence, of which he finds none. Kethra acquires herself a nice thigh bone from one of the massive skeletons for her use as a handy club. Meanwhile, Guy notices two tracks trailing behind the center statue, and entices one of the others to push it open with the assurance that all is trap-free. The statue glides smoothly across it’s tracks, revealing a dark stairway leading downward beneath it. The scent of stagnant water and damp dirt are the only things to greet them. Grabbing a large rock, Nessendra imbues it with light and tosses it in. It’s trip down the stone steps are unhindered, and they hear it hit dirt eventually, but all are still reserved about going down.
All but Bach, that is! After realizing that there is somewhere dark and fearful in the vicinity, he charges down, Verdt sending dancing lights chasing after him. The rest of the party follows a bit more cautiously, and getting to the end, they come to a long hallway going off into yet more darkness. Walking along, Guy notices strange square gold pieces sporadically littering the ground. Money laying around so free and accessible? He decides to pocket them whenever they appear; Kethra, unbeknownst to him, making a mental note each time. They come to a door off the side, but still wondering what lay ahead, Bach kicks the glowing rock which flies to the end of the hall where there lies a second stairway down. They decide to go into the side room first. Bach kicks it, and manages to break a toe. However, it does seem to loosen the door. Lifting the door with ease, Kethra props it open with her bone club. Inside, there are bejeweled carvings of the same creatures they fought upstairs along the walls, as well as a stone sarcophagus in the center of the room. Guy is the first to venture in, making his way straight to the jeweled eyes of the creatures, and begins prying them from the walls with his dagger. Nessendra, not wanting to be around such sacrilege, walks off to investigate the second stairway. The group searches the stone sarcophagus and finds some non magical items bearing the mark of an evil god.
Moving on, they venture down the next stairway, arriving in a large room with a long scum covered pool of water. Skulls bobb up as they get closer, but only seem to want to watch them. The party also hears something like a rhythmic chanting far off through a doorway on the opposite wall. Thoroughly creeped out, the party decides it would be best to leave now, before terrible things happen. Just as they all turn to leave, though, Guy is overwhelmed by curiosity and dashes towards the doorway, peering through. More stairs down. Telling the others that he’s just going to have a peek, he sneaks his way down quite a ways until he find himself on a black sand beach looking out on a dark lake, a lit pyramid far off in the distance. The others, hearing no screams of pain, make their way down the stairs to said beach. The chanting has become loud and reverberating down here. There are definitely some super baritones in the group. They also notice a boat floating a little ways off, and a large stone to their right with a glyph carved into it. Verdt tries to read the symbol, but only manages to get a bit nauseous. Bach, trying his hand at it, has an altogether different reaction. A thought drifts into his mind, and he suddenly desires nothing more than to rip the heart from his nearest companion and take it to the temple for sacrifice. The others hear him begin to chant in rhythm with the ones off in the distance. Turning, they see his eyes have turned black and menacing as he evokes his energy blade.
Riia thinks quick, binding him with her vine spell, and Guy conks him on the head with the pommel of his rapier. Luckily, that was all it took to bring him round. Making sure Bach is really back to normal, Riia unbinds him and covers up the glyph. Their nerve wavering, they switch their attention back to the boat. Guy uses his mage hand to tie a rope to it, and while Kethra pulls it taut, he climbs his way over to it. The boat is empty except for a burning candle. He jumps in. Runes along its sides light up, and it lurches suddenly as it begins to glide out towards the pyramid. Barely holding in a fearful squeal, Guy jumps out and splashes back to shore. They look on as the boat slowly drifts to a stop.
Looking at each other and nodding, they decide that’s enough creepy stuff for one day. It’s time to go. They speed walk out of there lickady-split, rolling the statue back into place, wedging a stone in the rails, and removing the stone block from the front door to close it after they’re back outside. They then set off for town again, getting as far away as possible before setting up camp for the night. They do the regular watch times with two people each two hour period. During the third watch, Kethra hears something moving in the distance and yells a warning. A few of the party members awaken. Nessendra, Verdt, and Guy, alert and listening for anything else. Three ghouls come into view, and Kethra shouts out a war cry as they run towards each other. The three awakened members join in; shooting magic and stabbing with swords. The sounds of fighting finally wake Riia and Bach. Bach, having dozed off on watch, jolts awake with a loud snort, shakes off the sleep and gets in there, shooting an agonizing blast so powerful the targeted ghoul explodes! Riia, still half asleep, sort of fumbles around for her swords, her feet getting tangled up in her blankets. And Anya, that lazy girl, acts as if she’s not even there! The party kills the remaining ghouls off quickly; Riia, running out and at the ready just as the others are cleaning themselves up.
They decide to set off again since it’s nearly morning, confidence bubbling over from their easy win. Guy, a little more affected by the lack of sleep than the others, sneaks a nap on Kethra’s pack; her wondering why it had gotten slightly heavier than she remembered. Marching along, a rustling in the branches above make them look up. A giant spider is leaping down at them! It falls directly on Verdt, stabbing him with it’s poisonous pincers. Verdt is down. The remaining party members attack with full force! Even Nessendra brandishes her weapon, knowing it would be unwise to help Verdt while a giant spider remains on top of him. Even so, she is the second to get hit and downed! Their healer incapacitated, the others fight more feverously and finally kill the overgrown arachnid.
Whew! What’s next for our heroes? Another feel-good romp with some wildlife? When is that next full moon, anyways? Will they actually ever finish a planned quest? We’ll find out next time on~ Weird! New! World~~~!!!
Guest post by Nadia aka Guy Noir
The party consisted of the following:
Verdt, 1/2 Elf Wizard 3 (John)
Nessendra, Wood Elf Cleric 3 (Erindale)
Kethra, Human Fighter 3 (Nikki)
Bach, Dragonborn Warlock 3 (Erik)
Riia, Human Ranger 3 (Hanna)
Guy Noir, ½ Elf Rogue 2 (Nadia)
Anya Bowen, Tiefling Ranger 2 [Allison (Absent)]
Now that the giant skeletons are out of the way, the party members have the leisure to actually look around the Temple. Bach peers under the propped open door to check for Blightfang’s presence, of which he finds none. Kethra acquires herself a nice thigh bone from one of the massive skeletons for her use as a handy club. Meanwhile, Guy notices two tracks trailing behind the center statue, and entices one of the others to push it open with the assurance that all is trap-free. The statue glides smoothly across it’s tracks, revealing a dark stairway leading downward beneath it. The scent of stagnant water and damp dirt are the only things to greet them. Grabbing a large rock, Nessendra imbues it with light and tosses it in. It’s trip down the stone steps are unhindered, and they hear it hit dirt eventually, but all are still reserved about going down.
All but Bach, that is! After realizing that there is somewhere dark and fearful in the vicinity, he charges down, Verdt sending dancing lights chasing after him. The rest of the party follows a bit more cautiously, and getting to the end, they come to a long hallway going off into yet more darkness. Walking along, Guy notices strange square gold pieces sporadically littering the ground. Money laying around so free and accessible? He decides to pocket them whenever they appear; Kethra, unbeknownst to him, making a mental note each time. They come to a door off the side, but still wondering what lay ahead, Bach kicks the glowing rock which flies to the end of the hall where there lies a second stairway down. They decide to go into the side room first. Bach kicks it, and manages to break a toe. However, it does seem to loosen the door. Lifting the door with ease, Kethra props it open with her bone club. Inside, there are bejeweled carvings of the same creatures they fought upstairs along the walls, as well as a stone sarcophagus in the center of the room. Guy is the first to venture in, making his way straight to the jeweled eyes of the creatures, and begins prying them from the walls with his dagger. Nessendra, not wanting to be around such sacrilege, walks off to investigate the second stairway. The group searches the stone sarcophagus and finds some non magical items bearing the mark of an evil god.
Moving on, they venture down the next stairway, arriving in a large room with a long scum covered pool of water. Skulls bobb up as they get closer, but only seem to want to watch them. The party also hears something like a rhythmic chanting far off through a doorway on the opposite wall. Thoroughly creeped out, the party decides it would be best to leave now, before terrible things happen. Just as they all turn to leave, though, Guy is overwhelmed by curiosity and dashes towards the doorway, peering through. More stairs down. Telling the others that he’s just going to have a peek, he sneaks his way down quite a ways until he find himself on a black sand beach looking out on a dark lake, a lit pyramid far off in the distance. The others, hearing no screams of pain, make their way down the stairs to said beach. The chanting has become loud and reverberating down here. There are definitely some super baritones in the group. They also notice a boat floating a little ways off, and a large stone to their right with a glyph carved into it. Verdt tries to read the symbol, but only manages to get a bit nauseous. Bach, trying his hand at it, has an altogether different reaction. A thought drifts into his mind, and he suddenly desires nothing more than to rip the heart from his nearest companion and take it to the temple for sacrifice. The others hear him begin to chant in rhythm with the ones off in the distance. Turning, they see his eyes have turned black and menacing as he evokes his energy blade.
Riia thinks quick, binding him with her vine spell, and Guy conks him on the head with the pommel of his rapier. Luckily, that was all it took to bring him round. Making sure Bach is really back to normal, Riia unbinds him and covers up the glyph. Their nerve wavering, they switch their attention back to the boat. Guy uses his mage hand to tie a rope to it, and while Kethra pulls it taut, he climbs his way over to it. The boat is empty except for a burning candle. He jumps in. Runes along its sides light up, and it lurches suddenly as it begins to glide out towards the pyramid. Barely holding in a fearful squeal, Guy jumps out and splashes back to shore. They look on as the boat slowly drifts to a stop.
Looking at each other and nodding, they decide that’s enough creepy stuff for one day. It’s time to go. They speed walk out of there lickady-split, rolling the statue back into place, wedging a stone in the rails, and removing the stone block from the front door to close it after they’re back outside. They then set off for town again, getting as far away as possible before setting up camp for the night. They do the regular watch times with two people each two hour period. During the third watch, Kethra hears something moving in the distance and yells a warning. A few of the party members awaken. Nessendra, Verdt, and Guy, alert and listening for anything else. Three ghouls come into view, and Kethra shouts out a war cry as they run towards each other. The three awakened members join in; shooting magic and stabbing with swords. The sounds of fighting finally wake Riia and Bach. Bach, having dozed off on watch, jolts awake with a loud snort, shakes off the sleep and gets in there, shooting an agonizing blast so powerful the targeted ghoul explodes! Riia, still half asleep, sort of fumbles around for her swords, her feet getting tangled up in her blankets. And Anya, that lazy girl, acts as if she’s not even there! The party kills the remaining ghouls off quickly; Riia, running out and at the ready just as the others are cleaning themselves up.
They decide to set off again since it’s nearly morning, confidence bubbling over from their easy win. Guy, a little more affected by the lack of sleep than the others, sneaks a nap on Kethra’s pack; her wondering why it had gotten slightly heavier than she remembered. Marching along, a rustling in the branches above make them look up. A giant spider is leaping down at them! It falls directly on Verdt, stabbing him with it’s poisonous pincers. Verdt is down. The remaining party members attack with full force! Even Nessendra brandishes her weapon, knowing it would be unwise to help Verdt while a giant spider remains on top of him. Even so, she is the second to get hit and downed! Their healer incapacitated, the others fight more feverously and finally kill the overgrown arachnid.
Whew! What’s next for our heroes? Another feel-good romp with some wildlife? When is that next full moon, anyways? Will they actually ever finish a planned quest? We’ll find out next time on~ Weird! New! World~~~!!!
Guest post by Nadia aka Guy Noir
Tuesday, March 6, 2012
Actual Play Report - Markos the Anemic
On 2/29 I ran Dave Panchyk in a Google+ game. This is his writeup of the unfortunate events of the day...
“Well, this sucks -- literally. Ha ha...” Markos thought, before he passed out from blood loss.
The second attack by the bat-winged insects had been Markos’ fault. He’d gone back up onto the stone room’s balcony and shot a sling stone into the papery, pulpy nest to make sure it was empty. Surely, he thought, it couldn’t hold more than the four they’d already killed.
Surely, he was wrong.
The hirelings below were alerted to the danger by hearing their boss saying, “Shit shit shit shit shit!” as he leaped over the balcony railing. He was followed by a trio of the bat-insects. Sturton the man-at-arms tried to hit one with his club; his wild swing left an opening for the creature to lunge at him. It sunk its proboscis into his neck and wrapped its leathery wings around his head with a slapping sound. Sturton screamed and fell, trying to grab at the creature.
Markos ran past Sturton, but one of the bug-things landed on his shoulder and dug its needle-nose into his flesh. The shock and pain brought him down.
Demmin, the young lantern-bearer, screamed as Markos fell. The boy was scrawny, but tall -- that, and some little gleam of hero-worship in his eyes, convinced Markos to bring him along despite his age -- and was able to swat effectively enough at one of the others to keep it away while he lunged for Markos.
“Leave him; we go!” Worsus, the wizard Markos had hired, said.
“No, we can’t leave him!” Demmin cried.
The wizard’s eyes narrowed. He slid his quarterstaff into a different grip, then swept it forward in a fast arc, striking the bloodsucker that was on Markos as if it were a croquet ball. The creature flew off, quite dead, and Worsus stood guard as Demmin dragged Markos away. Sturton’s attacker had opened his jugular and was draining him with a burbling, hissing noise. The man-at-arms lay face-down, his body hardly even twitching anymore as the remaining creatures abandoned the moving prey and homed in on the bounty of Sturton’s gushing blood.
Once Demmin had pulled Markos out of the room, the wizard conjured up a floating disc. He motioned for Demmin to haul the unconscious thief onto the disc, then walked slowly up the corridor they had come down. They turned right when they met the intersection where the statue of a robed figure atop a pile of skulls stood in an alcove.
Worsus stopped. “Check his pack. A flask, a wineskin... look for something stoppered with alcohol in it.” The youth did so, opening a leather flask whose contents stung his eyes. “Wave it under his nose, then pour some into his mouth,” the wizard ordered. Markos’ head gave a little jerk as the boy held the mouth of the flask to his nose, then he coughed and bucked when it was tipped down his throat.
Some inexpertly applied gauze and a sequence of highly creative swearing marked Markos’ complete return to consciousness and the beginning of his recovery.
“We should get Sturton’s body. He may have family hereabouts,” Markos said. “It’d be the right thing to do.” He sounded like he was trying to convince himself as well as his hirelings.
Markos sketched out a basic plan and led the three of them, Demmin as always in the back, holding up the lantern. Markos left the others at the doorway to the big room and crept forward, scanning the weakly lit area ahead. Sturton’s body was already pale and drawn; the vampiric fliers had left him. He had no doubt the man-at-arms would eventually look like the nearly mummified dwarf that was slumped in the corner. The dwarf should have been a warning of what was to come when they first entered the room.
Markos considered the dwarf. He might have a clan that would be happy to get back his remains. Failing that, the dwarf might have some coin or belongings on him that would provide this otherwise disastrous venture’s only income...
He snuck toward the dwarf. Halfway there, his heel landed on one of his own sling stones from the first battle with the bloodsuckers; his foot skidded out from under him. He landed in an ungainly sprawl as the sling stone clattered along the floor.
He sprang up, listening. Something rustled up in the balcony. He considered running but instead waved back his hirelings as he drew a throwing dagger, then stood motionless.
The rustling turned into fluttering, which turned into flapping. One of the creatures landed on the balcony railing, surveying the room. Markos watched its proboscis make slow pendulum swings as the thing turned its head. He rubbed the flat of his throwing knife’s blade to disperse any gathering sweat. One throw would be all he’d get if the creature saw him. It hadn’t seemed to, not yet, and it shuffled a little ways along the railing. It ducked and bobbed its head a little. Markos blinked hard a few times, again to make sure any nervous sweat wouldn’t kill his aim.
Finally, the creature hopped off the railing and went back into the darkness of the balcony. Markos allowed himself a small breath of relief, but remained still. He waited to hear the rustling of the creature returning to its home, then waited a couple of minutes more. Then he sheathed his thrower and snuck with extreme care back to where the others were.
He led them silently down the corridor, past the statue, through a couple other corridors and stairways and then out into the open air. He was galled by having to leave empty-handed, and determined to return in future -- perhaps with fire for the nest -- but needed to rest up, let his companions do the same, and celebrate the fact he was alive.
“You know,” Markos said on the way back to town, “we could always have a simple, tasteful memorial service for Sturton sometime in the future.”
The others hastily agreed.
Congrats to Dave both for surviving, and for being my first guest blogger!
“Well, this sucks -- literally. Ha ha...” Markos thought, before he passed out from blood loss.
The second attack by the bat-winged insects had been Markos’ fault. He’d gone back up onto the stone room’s balcony and shot a sling stone into the papery, pulpy nest to make sure it was empty. Surely, he thought, it couldn’t hold more than the four they’d already killed.
Surely, he was wrong.
The hirelings below were alerted to the danger by hearing their boss saying, “Shit shit shit shit shit!” as he leaped over the balcony railing. He was followed by a trio of the bat-insects. Sturton the man-at-arms tried to hit one with his club; his wild swing left an opening for the creature to lunge at him. It sunk its proboscis into his neck and wrapped its leathery wings around his head with a slapping sound. Sturton screamed and fell, trying to grab at the creature.
Markos ran past Sturton, but one of the bug-things landed on his shoulder and dug its needle-nose into his flesh. The shock and pain brought him down.
Demmin, the young lantern-bearer, screamed as Markos fell. The boy was scrawny, but tall -- that, and some little gleam of hero-worship in his eyes, convinced Markos to bring him along despite his age -- and was able to swat effectively enough at one of the others to keep it away while he lunged for Markos.
“Leave him; we go!” Worsus, the wizard Markos had hired, said.
“No, we can’t leave him!” Demmin cried.
The wizard’s eyes narrowed. He slid his quarterstaff into a different grip, then swept it forward in a fast arc, striking the bloodsucker that was on Markos as if it were a croquet ball. The creature flew off, quite dead, and Worsus stood guard as Demmin dragged Markos away. Sturton’s attacker had opened his jugular and was draining him with a burbling, hissing noise. The man-at-arms lay face-down, his body hardly even twitching anymore as the remaining creatures abandoned the moving prey and homed in on the bounty of Sturton’s gushing blood.
Once Demmin had pulled Markos out of the room, the wizard conjured up a floating disc. He motioned for Demmin to haul the unconscious thief onto the disc, then walked slowly up the corridor they had come down. They turned right when they met the intersection where the statue of a robed figure atop a pile of skulls stood in an alcove.
Worsus stopped. “Check his pack. A flask, a wineskin... look for something stoppered with alcohol in it.” The youth did so, opening a leather flask whose contents stung his eyes. “Wave it under his nose, then pour some into his mouth,” the wizard ordered. Markos’ head gave a little jerk as the boy held the mouth of the flask to his nose, then he coughed and bucked when it was tipped down his throat.
Some inexpertly applied gauze and a sequence of highly creative swearing marked Markos’ complete return to consciousness and the beginning of his recovery.
“We should get Sturton’s body. He may have family hereabouts,” Markos said. “It’d be the right thing to do.” He sounded like he was trying to convince himself as well as his hirelings.
Markos sketched out a basic plan and led the three of them, Demmin as always in the back, holding up the lantern. Markos left the others at the doorway to the big room and crept forward, scanning the weakly lit area ahead. Sturton’s body was already pale and drawn; the vampiric fliers had left him. He had no doubt the man-at-arms would eventually look like the nearly mummified dwarf that was slumped in the corner. The dwarf should have been a warning of what was to come when they first entered the room.
Markos considered the dwarf. He might have a clan that would be happy to get back his remains. Failing that, the dwarf might have some coin or belongings on him that would provide this otherwise disastrous venture’s only income...
He snuck toward the dwarf. Halfway there, his heel landed on one of his own sling stones from the first battle with the bloodsuckers; his foot skidded out from under him. He landed in an ungainly sprawl as the sling stone clattered along the floor.
He sprang up, listening. Something rustled up in the balcony. He considered running but instead waved back his hirelings as he drew a throwing dagger, then stood motionless.
The rustling turned into fluttering, which turned into flapping. One of the creatures landed on the balcony railing, surveying the room. Markos watched its proboscis make slow pendulum swings as the thing turned its head. He rubbed the flat of his throwing knife’s blade to disperse any gathering sweat. One throw would be all he’d get if the creature saw him. It hadn’t seemed to, not yet, and it shuffled a little ways along the railing. It ducked and bobbed its head a little. Markos blinked hard a few times, again to make sure any nervous sweat wouldn’t kill his aim.
Finally, the creature hopped off the railing and went back into the darkness of the balcony. Markos allowed himself a small breath of relief, but remained still. He waited to hear the rustling of the creature returning to its home, then waited a couple of minutes more. Then he sheathed his thrower and snuck with extreme care back to where the others were.
He led them silently down the corridor, past the statue, through a couple other corridors and stairways and then out into the open air. He was galled by having to leave empty-handed, and determined to return in future -- perhaps with fire for the nest -- but needed to rest up, let his companions do the same, and celebrate the fact he was alive.
“You know,” Markos said on the way back to town, “we could always have a simple, tasteful memorial service for Sturton sometime in the future.”
The others hastily agreed.
Congrats to Dave both for surviving, and for being my first guest blogger!
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