Doomwatch

Stop, Drop and Roll

2010-02-15T17:46:00.000-08:00

Arbiddance watched in total disbelief as Xis pulled a tapestry off the wall and wrapped in it as he dropped to the floor and rolled.

He had no idea what the source of flame was, but it was apparently from the hollow screams and thrashing that the lich was terrified, and not just of the fire. Something or someone terrible was loose in these halls.

Arbiddance crouched behind the platform and did what any good magician would do upon awakening from a long, mind-numbing sleep: he checked to see what spells he remembered.

Another set of feet quickly entered the room from an unknown source and vectored toward the door. Arbiddance ventured a peak around the side of the platform, and his blood ran cold as he thought he saw Ariya Thule exit the room swords drawn.

I'm seeing things, he thought to himself and switched to an even more chilling concept: I don't remember any spells.

He searched the pockets of his robes for anything useful and found nothing at all.

Xis rose from the tangle of smoldering tapestry... stripped of his decayed robes to reveal his emaciated form. The lich's eyes scanned himself for obvious damage... finding plenty... and then peered up to the empty platform. Arbiddance ducked back out of sight. A hiss of frustration escaped through the room and leathery footsteps made for the door.

Arbiddance released his breath and shifted slightly to rise, as a hideous hand snapped around the platform, grabbed his ankle. The magician howled as its icy grip tightened and a chill extended up his leg.

Arbiddance wildly kicked at the lich's grip as the bone-chilling cold ripped through his leg and up into his torso. Despite his strongest blows, he couldn't shake Xis as the creature began to drag him from behind the platform and into the clear part of the room.

At last the magician pulled a desperate ploy. He twisted to his right, forcing Xis' arm to roll in order to maintain the grip and expose his elbow... on to which Arbiddance brought his left heel down with all his remaining strength. The lich, even dead, felt the blow; Xis released his grip and snarled.

Arbiddance rolled to once side, saw a ki-rin, and then attempted to stand. He stopped and looked again at the doorway and gawked at the creature as it bull-rushed the lich...

The Third

2010-01-25T16:45:00.000-08:00

Arbiddance arched off the platform and rolled off to the floor.

Gods, I'm on fire, he thought. I'm on fire!

The searing flames shot through his mind and throughout his body, and then ceased. He caught his breath and opened his eyes to look around.

"I'm free," he muttered, and jumped as a flaming figure dodged into the chamber.

Prayers

2010-01-25T16:43:00.000-08:00

Daen, Kaenorr, Vaekainen, Kae'Aboth, Stygius. I beseech you. I believe five are mightier than one. I believe, now my mind is unshackled, that you will free me rather than abandon me to my fate. I implore those five who walked on the night of my birth. I have served you well and will again. Free me now, I beg of you, and give me the power to destroy my captor. So let it be.

And after an hour of prayer, Qova found herself free.

Bare, but free. Weaponless, but found her prayers had been answered with the ability to cast spells in the name of her Five. She didn't move for a span of a few minutes, as if afraid she were dreaming all of this. The energy field was gone... wisping away like smoke. Suddenly, she grasped it to be true, and stepped off the platform.

To the right, in the dim light, she spied a cabinet. Padding to it, she pulled the door open and saw it stuffed with her possessions and those of her friends. She pawed through the familiar items and found what she was looking for. She slipped it over her head and around her neck, just as the door flew open.

Xis burst into the room, and if a lich could have a look of shock in its face, then Xis was stunned to see the platform empty. He whirled to his left as Qova began to chant, and as he brought up an amulet for protection, he locked eyes with the raw, naked goddess Qova as her hands came down and pointed at him... and xis exploded in a column of white-hot flame.

Qova Awakens

2010-01-19T17:50:00.000-08:00

Daen, hear me.
Kaenorr, hear me.
Vaekainen, hear me.
Kae'Aboth, hear me.
Stygius hear me.

She had repeated these mantras so many times per day every day for... even she lost track. The ritual summoning of her gods drained her slowly of her spiritual connection to them... focused outwards to... what?... the cloaked figure she sometimes saw lurking in the darkness.

She sometimes glimpsed him from the sides of her eyes... flowing through the murk like a shadow... cloaked and crowned like a dead king returned. No muscle of hers would move, not even her eyes... except for her tongue and throat which were forced to murmur the same mantras time and time again.

Now she felt her muscles begin to loosen. Her eyes rolled slowly side to side. She saw the strange apparatus she occupied and blinked when the flint was struck and the torches lit.

In the light, she saw the battered form of Ariya holding the torch and moving across the chamber. Her breath stuck in her throat, and her mantra stumbled.

I'm delighted you're with us again, Qovakrisstia Darkhair. The hissing voice rattled through the room. Turning her head to the left, she saw the cloaked figure seated at a table casually observing her.

"I'm..."

Free. Or as free as I wish. I've occupied your mind for too long not to know how you would react, so I merely anticipate your actions and stop them before they even start.

The figure stood and slithered forward to stand by her side. I've tapped you as much as I dare. Your link to your gods is very strong, and a good source of divine energy readily suckled and stored. I thank you.

"And now?" she swallowed and gasped.

You're far too dangerous to keep alive, and I'm wasting mental energy keeping you chained... energy best used elsewhere. You're comrade, even know, is beginning to fight me for control of his mind. Arbiddance. He's very strong, you know. Roughly in the same range as I... but not quite.

The figure stalked around her. He still has his uses. But you... you stay alive so long as I still need the forces I've tapped from your spirit. Once they are depleted, then I'm afraid you'll have to go.

He turned and walked toward a doorway. Tonight perhaps. You would be wise to make your peace with your gods, as you'll be seeing them before tomorrow is over.

Shaemsaerr

2010-01-13T17:11:00.000-08:00

"She lives in the Shaemsaerr Wilds... a day or two ride from here. Some say she moved there to get away from the minds of others... to find some peace. The general gossip is that she's a witch and she can mold minds," Malek said.

The Prince drained his cup and put it down. "I've heard of this one," he belched. "Isn't she supposed to be rather dangerous as in 'not friendly to trespassers?'"

"As a rule, most hermit types aren't, but supposedly she can be reached if you go through the right channels," Malek replied. "If she's half as powerful as they say, she could turn the tide... perhaps even have an effect on the lich itself."

"And the price?"

"We'll have to find out up front," Yrmus smiled.
--------------------------------------------------
With the three agreed, Thing #1 and Thing #2 were left in control of the manor house in the mean time. The Prince and his new allies mounted and headed southwest.

The journey took a little over a day and as darkness fell, they found themselves riding into the outer reaches of the Shaemsaerr Wilds. The forest growth on the roadsides took on a decidedly sinister air with branches reaching out to snag the unwary. Their mounts became skittish and the air was subtlely colder here.

"There's a tavern about an hour from here," Malek said. "It's called Bagher House and it's there we can make inquiries."

In time, they reached Bagher House... a dilapidated two story structure with smoke pouring from each chimney. The riders stabled their mounts and eased through the front door.

Though bright and warm, there were few patrons present. Two men sat huddled around a corner table; a hooded figure sat at a table near one fireplace, and the barkeep lurked in the shadows. Malek approached the bar and the keep slid toward him. Drinks were ordered, and the riders took a table in the middle of the room.

The Prince looked around and pulled his cloak closer. "Charming place."

"You have to undestand it's slightly off the beaten path," Malek replied. "The patrons are going to be almost all locals... any new faces are here for a reason."

"Now what?" Yrmus asked.

Malek shrugged. "Like I said, new faces have a reason to be here, and visiting the Witch is the main reason. Let's see what happens."

Let's see what happens, the Prince thought, and shook his head in derision.

Plans

2010-01-13T16:55:00.000-08:00

"Suffice to say we're on our own with this one," Malek muttered to the group around the table.

"Well, we could take some guards and throw them at the lich while we attack," Yrmus countered.

"You really have no idea what you're talking about," the Prince spit toward him. "This is a creature that mentally dominated myself, a priestess and a magician within seconds... before we could effectively act. Besides, I think there's been enough innocent blood shed, and you're comment, even if in jest, is repulsive."

Malek pushed from the table and leaned back. "Well, what's your plan then?"

"My plan," the Prince said "was to slip closely and slide one of these up its ass." He fingered one of the two swords given to him. "I'd have done it too by now if Ariya hadn't dealt me a nearly mortal wound."

"Yes, how's that coming? "Yrmus smiled. "Hair growing? Feeling a strong desire for raw meat, blood, that sort of thing?"

The Prince didn't spare him a look. "If I do, you'll be the first to know, I promise. Back on subject, a party this size will make too much noise... the possibility of a surprise attack is out the window."

"If your friends are under some sort of mental control, then we might have to face them as well as Xis," Malek mused. "What we need to do is break that hold over them. Together, all of us might be able to take him. Some casualities, perhaps. But we might take him." He studied the Prince. "Do you remember anything about your enslavement to him?"

The Prince sighed and leaned back. "Fragments. That's all. Impressions, more like it, like a dream you know you had but can't conjure back up. It's really rather persuasive, I can tell you that."

"Alright,"Malek continued. "What if we could break that hold over Arbiddance and Qovakrisstia?"

"How?" the Prince asked.

"I think I might know someone who could do it, but the price would be unusual..."

Miscalculation

2010-01-08T16:07:00.000-08:00

The Grinning Prince knew the names of the two who seemed to be in charge of their little expedition... Malek and Yrmus. The two fighters he simply labeled Thing #1 and Thing #2 since they never spoke but merely lurked in the background... swords at the ready.

At this moment, he, Malek, Yrmus, and the Things along with the captain of the guard, made a wide circle around a hideous yet darkly humorous sight. Three men, one ancient and two middle-aged, were stuck in the ground near the hill of the entrance... their top halves above ground, their bottom halves seemingly melded into the bedrock under the shallow topsoil. All three faces wore an expression of shock mixed with deadly realization.

"I wonder if that actually hurt," he finally said.

Malek shot him a look which curtailed any further queries. The Prince stifled a giggle and motioned for the captain to follow him as he ambled off.

Yrmus watched them leave and then mumbled to Malek, "I hope you have a plan B."

"Of course, I don't have a plan B," Malek hissed. "I never imagined a lich would be involved. This was supposed to be a simple track down and elimination of a target, and now it's turned into a first rate goat fuck."

"And that's your employer," Yrmus pointed at the white haired old man.

"That's my employer. I'm not sure if he let anyone else in on the plan. However, if there's any chance of receiving my pay, then I'll have to go through with the assignment. Last time I checked, you're pretty much obligated to follow along."

Yrmus sighed and turned to gaze at the back of the Prince some 100 feet away. "Well, he seems bent on going back and finding his friends. I see no reason not to help them," he turned and smiled to Malek. "After all, if they became the masters here, why can't we?"

To The Surface

2010-01-06T18:37:00.000-08:00

The first sunlight he had seen in over two months blinded him at first... rendering the guards to shapeless masses moving in his blurred vision. He quickly adjusted and saw the captain of the guard standing before him.

"Where is the Baron?" the captain asked.

"Well, let's say he's not going anywhere at the moment, unless Xis should decide to emerge," the Prince quipped. "Through that door, at any moment."

The guards began to look at each other at the mention of Xis. The Captain seemed unimpressed. "Are you saying the Baron is incapacitated?"

"No... just out of touch at the moment as far as you're concerned, and since I'm his lieutenant, then listen up. Some people will be arriving in due time, looking for me and my new friends," he thumbed toward Malek and his party. "You know... the ones who got past your guards? When the visitors arrive, they are to be admitted straight into the manor. Understand?"

"I need to know..." the captain began.

"You need to obey your orders, lest I inform the Baron you're being horsey with his advisors."

The captain bowed and stepped away. The Prince took a moment to survey the countryside around him and around to Malek who was whispering to a crow.

Par Avion

2010-01-05T19:26:00.000-08:00

Mor-Kilen pondered the message brought to him by crow and sat back.

A lich, he thought. Nevermind Arbiddance... what secrets does the lich hold? What magic has he in his possession?

The thin wizard rose to gaze out a tower window onto the wind-scraped mountains surrounding him. To raid a lich's lair is beyond dangerous, but the benefits could be almost worth it... and with the traitor in the lich's grasp, we could kill two birds with one stone.

Mor-Kilen returned to the crow on the perch... recited an incantation which caught the bird's attention and whispered to it.

"Hold fast. I'm coming."

Alliances

2010-01-02T17:59:00.000-08:00

Since I missed last night, I'll throw one in for tonight. Most of my posts will be from Monday through Friday nights.

"Pray, how exactly did you get past the guards and into this place," the Prince asked his rescuers. They were seated around a table in the main meeting room under the light of lanterns. One man was tending to the warrior's wounds while another fed him wine.

"Well, where there's a will there's a way, but never mind that," one man standing replied. "Tell us, what is your name?"

"Hmm. My name is long gone... most simply call me 'The Prince."" he grinned and grimaced at once. The man holding the wineskin looked at the man standing. The Prince rubbed his beard. "I have to say I definitely need a shave." He felt of his hair. "And a trim." His face grew long. "What day is this?"

The standing man told him, and the Prince stared off into space. "Where has the time gone?"

"Perhaps you should tell us what happened?" Wine man prompted.

The Prince lounged further in his chair. "We, meaning my two friends and I, went back to the second level to search for a former ally who betrayed us at a critical moment. We had already lost one friend, and vowed to hunt this evil priest down and kill him. We searched in an area we throught we had cleared... found a secret door... and encountered a lich."

At the word, all backs stiffened.

"Xis," the Prince continued. "Something of a local legend around here, if memory serves. Anyway, after a short discussion, Xis brought some sort of magic to bear and paralyzed all three of us. After that, it's blank. I remember waking up on a platform just six hours ago or so. I saw one of my friends on another platform but another is missing. I escaped, found some weapons, and encountered a particularly dangerous northern lass who I thought I killed before," he wiped his brow. "She's a werewolf, by the way, hence this gut wound."

"She bit you?" The standing man asked.

"Um... yes. So we'll see..."

"What are your friends' names?" Wine man asked.

"Qovakrisstia Darkhair, who is missing, and Arbiddance, who I left on the slab so to speak."

Standing man moved closer. "It's Arbiddance we seek. He's a member of a magical order who hired me to find him. You've really been missing for two months or more, and his superiors are worried about him."

"Superiors?" the Prince laughed. "He barely acknowledges equals. He never said anything about belonging to an order of any type other than perhaps a gentleman's club somewhere."

"Well, he does and it's our job to rescue him. Can we rely on you to lead us back to him?"

"Listen, that's a lich down there," the Prince snapped. "Try getting his 'superiors' here to deal with that. I can't fight magic. On the other hand, if you bring up sufficient force...perhaps I can get close enough to slip one of these in the lich's chest." He reached out and fingered one of his blades on the table.

"But one way or another, I have to get my friends out of there."

No Entry Tonight

2009-12-31T16:43:00.001-08:00

It's New Year's Eve, so get your sorry ass off the computer and celebrate. Don't be pathetic like me.

Have a safe time, don't drink and drive, and we'll see you in 2010 with more adventures in Doomwatch.

A Meeting

2009-12-30T19:44:00.000-08:00

I'm hurt, the Prince thought.

Seriously hurt, and I just might die in this pisshole. Even if I live, that she-bitch bit me.

His mind reeled at the thought of the lycanthropy disease possibly coursing through his veins right now. He pulled himself up into a sitting position, wincing at the pain in his stomach. He removed his tunic and tried to make a bandage for his wound.

He sat and listened for a long time. No sound other than dripping water and scurrying little feet met his ears.

Scurrying little feet.

He became aware that movement was nearby... tiny feet inching their way toward him. He struggled to stand.

I'm damned if I'll be eaten by rats, he promised himself.

He felt the wall and found the door from which Ariya originally came. With no choice, he ducked through and closed it.

The darkness in here was just as bad as in the hallway, but a faint gleam appeared somewhere to his left. He drew one sword and felt his way toward the source. A hallway... extending off toward some unknown light. He edged closer and saw it was lichen dimly glowing.

He padded down this hall... saw another branch to the left, and instinct told him to follow it. It ended without fanfare.

Mmm-hmm, he thought, and began to feel for anything to reveal a hidden door.

Immediately, he found a protrusion of stone, and he pressed it. A secret door slid open, and the Prince found himself exposed to torchlight. Warily, he looked around and saw the light coming through a door. With a start, he realized he was in one of the jail cells in the Hall of Xis.

He edged closer to the door and looked out. No one was there, but the torches were lit.

He traced his way back to the well and the platform left there so long ago. Collapsing on it, he decided to rest a bit before trying to pull himself up.

With a start, he realized two things: one, he had dozed off here. Two, the platform was going up. He drew his second blade and waited for the light now above him to reveal its secrets.

In minutes, he made out a form... no, two forms, pulling the rope to bring the platform up. Shapes became faces, and he saw four looking down on him.

As he came to a stop, he smiled. "Good evening, and welcome to Doomwatch."

The four faces looked at each other and drew their weapons.

A Battle In The Darkness

2009-12-29T14:43:00.000-08:00

(Sorry I missed last night; I was unavoidably detained all evening.)

Sword in one hand, torch in the other, the Grinning Prince leaned against a corner as he surveyed the two possible passages. One ended at a great door almost out of sight, while the other spanned into darkness.

If his bearings were right, it was the second choice that would take him closer to his goal. He quietly moved down the hallway.

The flickering torch dissolved shadows as he passed a doorway on the right. He considered opening it, but decided to move on.

The doorway jerked open behind him, and he barely spun to his left to parry a killing blow.

Ariya Thule, her backstab spoiled, flew at him with a flurry of cuts and stabs. Unfortunately for her, the Prince dodged to the side and brought the flat of his blade down on her head. While dropping his torch and drawing his other blade, he bellowed "Haven't I already killed you?! I distinctly... remember... killing you... and dumping your bloodied carcass down a shaft!"

Ariya soaked up the blow and rolled forward and on her feet, blood dripping from the back of her head and her blades at the ready.

The Prince took a defensive posture. "Now, how do you want to do it? Shall we repeat what happened before? I'm going to kill you, your spooky-eyed lich master, and then rescue my friends from this pit. I promise."

He stepped forward with two thrusts, one high and one low. Ariya blocked both with ease, but didn't see his boot coming for her gut. It connected with a hard thump that sent her flying backwards.

"I seem to recall kicking you in the delicates last time. I'll bet that was pleasant," he cooed and stepped to her side with a downward swing. She rolled over just enough to avoid the blow and leaped to her feet with one savage swing that was blocked.

But Ariya did not mean to press the attack; instead, she kicked the nearby torch... lifting it off the stone floor and into an arc which sent it sailing down the hall. Taken by surprise, the Prince drew both blades up for protection, but couldn't stop her as she bowled him over and disappeared the other way into the darkness.

The Prince looked up just in time to see the torch sputtering out.

Panicked, he got into a crouching position with each blade pointed each direction, and waited for the attack.

Straining to listen in the pitch black, he could hear her breathing somewhere down the hall. It was labored from heavy exertion... then a gurgling sound as if she were choking up fluids... slowly devolving into a hair raising growl felt more than heard. He peered down the hallway at what he thought were red lights, and then the Prince knew...

Wolves eyes don't glow in the darkness without a source to reflect, he thought. Where is that light?

The twin lights bounded toward him followed by a howl, and before he could bring the other blade around, she avoided a weak thrust and leaped on him with her full weight. He felt crushed under what felt like twice her normal size. He felt her breath as she snapped for his throat... grunted as he banged against her head with his left blade to no avail. Ariya had him trapped, and it was just a matter of time before she tasted his blood.

He rolled slightly to his left and emptied that hand to bring it up against her head, then quickly twisted to the right to bash her against the nearby wall. Ariya howled; he repeated, with more strength brought by encouragement. Ariya backed off and bit into his thigh.

Now it was the Prince's turn to scream, and he jerked to bring his right blade slashing down on her head. He felt it bite into her skull, her weight lift and disappear... leaving the Prince to pant for breath and grimace on the cold stone floor in the darkness.

Somebody's Watching Me

2009-12-25T19:37:00.000-08:00

He watched the slim fighter slip down the stairwell and into the area below.

The scene in his crystal ball shifted as the Prince roamed short corridors which led to empty rooms... slowly closer to this hidden chamber in which Xis sulked.

The skeletal figure turned to Ariya. "Find him. This time destroy him and bring his corpse back if you can, but get those swords he carries."

Ariya Thule nodded and departed noiselessly. Xis hissed and leaned back in his ornate chair.

Are these interlopers worth the trouble of keeping them? Would it be better to simply kill the other two as well?

He turned to gaze upon the raven haired cleric trapped in the violet energy field on the platform. Such a marvelous tap for spiritual energy. She really is a conduit for so many gods, and so confused... so easy to confuse...

And the magician... the strong willed wizard from the southern lands. His mind was such an effort to trap and bend, but what could be tapped from him before he is reduced to a husk?

Xis hissed again and pondered the possibilities.

At The Altar of Kae'Aboth

2009-12-24T19:01:00.000-08:00

When the hanging fell, the Prince walked into total darkness. He knew there was a small passage beyond, and felt his way along the right wall.

Presently, the passage turned right and continued for another twenty feet or so until he hit a dead end.

This can't be happening, he thought. There must be an entrance somewhere.

After groping for some five minutes, he made his way back to the wall hanging and listened for any movement beyond. Satisfied, he slowly lifted the hanging up and looked into the room. All was as he left it. He grabbed a dying torch from a sconce and returned to the corridor's end.

Waving the torch a little to build it up, he scanned the end for any sign of a secret door. After several minutes, he spotted a smaller stone that was too square for a natural cut; he pressed it, and a section of the wall on the left slid back.

Leery of hanging around here too long, the Prince dashed through the door and came into another chamber.

The area was large... maybe 100 feet or more in length and roughly 30 feet wide. A quick scan showed no other exits to the room in his immediate area, but the far end was shrouded in shadows. The ceiling vaulted with an apex of 40 feet; all was supported on pillars at equal points.

The Prince looked around and saw dead torches ensconced along the walls. He grabbed one and lit it from his dying light, then moved further into the room.

The pillars were intricately carved with chaotic scenes of all sorts. He spared them a quick glance and moved toward the other end of the chamber... halted a bit when he saw what appeared to be an altar at the other end.

Slowly, he approached within twenty feet... conscious of possible traps designed to destroy the infidel enemies of whatever god was worshipped here. He backtracked to the end from which he came, and suddenly noticed a stairwell descending into the darkness.

So at least I can get out. He thought.

Back toward the altar, he approached from the other angle... stepping in a random pattern to increase his odds of not hitting a trapped stone. Eventually, he got within ten feet of the structure.

It was seven feet in length or so... rising up to 3 feet and carved with symbols of a god he knew.

"Kae'Aboth." He spoke the name aloud without thinking, and the altar subtly vibrated the dank air here.

Curious, he approached the altar and begin to wipe the dust and cobwebs. "Kae'Aboth," he said again.

The air here began to lighten, and the Prince felt the nagging buzzing that had been in his head slowly fade. He cleaned it further and spoke more firmly. "Kae'Aboth, hear me. I am allied with a priestess of yours."

He didn't expect much, but the effect was more than he bargained for. The remaining dust swirled and reached into the air high above the altar. A form appeared, female and powerful, but transparent. He thought it looked almost like Qova.

"I answer the summons for Kae'Aboth... I, Elanda, his servant. Who speaks the Great One's name and claims his cleric as friend?"

"Well, names are relative," he made a "who me?" face. "His cleric is lost... trapped somewhere down here, and I need the means to free her. I ask for your aid."

"And what aid could I give you, mortal?" the figure lectured down.

"Give me arms to destroy her captor, and I will lead her back to this altar so that she may properly re-consecrate it," the Prince replied. Give me a weapon capable of destroying the mightiest of undead, even if for just awhile."

Elanda smiled. "You have chosen wisely, mortal, and your petition will be granted. You will do well to keep your promise or die trying." And with those last words, Elanda slowly vanished... and on the altar lay two broadswords.

The Prince unsheathed them. Both were of fine quality with unusually sharp blades etched in northern runes. He read them by torchlight; they said "we seek and destroy the walking dead."

The Prince grinned, strapped both scabbards to his waist, grabbed his torch and headed for the secret door.

An Awakening

2009-12-23T19:40:00.000-08:00

It was like staring at the same scene for hours, and suddenly realizing that you were seeing a different viewpoint.

His eyes focused on... a ceiling?... the broad beams spanning the stone ceiling of a place deep underground.

My, my, he thought. What have you gotten yourself into now?

Like early morning sleep shaking off, the Prince found he could move. But he didn't. He rolled his eyes to each side as far as he could. There was someone on his left, but he couldn't focus enough to see who. He returned his eyes to center and listened.

Water dripped on stone somewhere nearby... a whisper of feet somewhere behind him. He froze back into the posture and expression he formerly held.

A face loomed over his... upside down. The Prince forced his eyes not to automatically snap up toward it. He relied on perepheal vision to take in what was offered.

Blonde hair... fixed, icy eyes... and a subtle breath on his face. She examined him closely, and slapped him. He let his head slightly rock from the blow, but showed no response... especially as realization dawned.

Ariya Thule.

Ariya withdrew from his field of vision and moved to his left. The Prince sensed her checking who ever was there... another slap. After a minute, she quietly stepped away. The Prince heard a door open and close.

He waited... for no other reason than in case she was waiting. After five minutes, he thought, he became convinced she was gone. He slowly turned his head to the left.

He was on a platform of sorts... wide enough to accommodate his frame. Roughly three feet to his left was another platform occupied by someone. The Prince focused his eyes in the gloom.

Arbiddance.

The magician didn't move. He stared straight up at the ceiling, unblinking and with no expression as if he were waiting for something to appear.

The Prince decided to take the next obvious move. He eased up from his place of rest and quickly looked behind him.

A single door stood roughly ten feet back. Torches lined the walls, sputtering down but still enough to reveal the contents of the room. Tables lined the walls and were covered with odd glass objects, pewter and assorted other things he didn't recognize. His scan of the room showed another resting platform on the other side of Arbiddance, but it was empty.

No other exits. Except...

He raised up a little more to pay attention to a wall hanging. With one more glance at the door, the Prince placed his feet on the floor and slowly moved toward the hanging. He carefully lifted it and gazed behind to find a passageway.

He quickly moved back to Arbiddance and looked down on the impassive face. He snapped his fingers lightly... touched the bearded face. No response.

"Sorry, friend..." he whispered. "Nothing I can do for you. That blonde bitch is loose again, and I need a weapon, so off I go and I'll try to come back for you as soon as possible." He eased off, leaned back and grinned down. "But only if you promise to be good while I'm away."

And behind the tapestry he disappeared.

Among Thieves

2009-12-22T17:44:00.000-08:00

"The coins," a tiny man whispered over the table, "show the likeness of Aris IV, yet appear freshly minted." He dropped the gold pieces and wiped his mouth to hide a smirk. "You wouldn't be trying to pass on some counterfeits, would you?"

Malek leaned forward. "Sadly, no. They've simply been kept locked away for some time. They're more than genuine, I assure you."

The smaller man casually glanced at the bosom of a passing wench. "I see. Alright. Suppose I'm daft enough to follow you into a wizard's lair, past his baronial guards, and deep below. What then? I'm guessing you're not looking him up just for a chat. Is he wanted? Does he have some thing of value that requires a dagger in his kidney, or what?"

Malek sighed. "It's immaterial, Yrmus. I simply need a skilled hand to help out here. I've arranged for the company of two sellswords. I've bought them already, just as I'm paying you up front. I feel sure there's the promise of loot as well. At least, they seem to think so."

Yrmus waved a hand. "Is your plan any more complex then this?"

"Complexity," Malek smiled "endangers goals. Neither the wizard nor his companions have been seen for some time. I strongly suspect they are dead. We merely need to verify this. That's all."

"If it's Doomwatch," Yrmus muttered, "then they likely won't be found, and perhaps we won't either." He leaned back. "Forty percent of the loot."

"Twenty," Malek countered. Yrmus glanced off and grinned.

"You'll do better than that."

Malek casually traced the letter C on the table with his finger, the back of the letter facing Yrmus. The smaller man gazed down, gazed up, and formed another C to sit back to back with Malek's tracing.

"Twenty," he sighed.
-----------------------------------
Outside, the two met with a pair of large, armored men. Malek stepped up to them and pinged their chainmail.

"No," he stated. "Leather only." Both looked at him as if he suggested wearing girdles. "I know, I know, but entrance requires stealth. You'll put your mail in this." He produced a bag from under his tunic. "It will hold whatever you need."

The two fighters glanced at each other and then nodded their assent. The four walked away from the tavern into the darkness as Malek explained further.

"We approach the house from the southern side. There will be one guard on duty on the premises. Others will be patrolling the road, but that won't matter. I've arranged for a diversion to be made just before dawn. The guard on the door will go to the guard house for reinforcements... while he's away, we'll have perhaps two minutes to climb through the window and get inside. From that point on, stealth is the word. Once we are below, you may then change back into your mail. Understood?"

Everyone else nodded.

"Fine," Malek smiled. "Leave nothing in your rooms. You won't be coming back here no matter what."

Doomwatch 2

2009-12-21T20:47:00.000-08:00

To his lordship, Mor-Kilen, Master of Wik and the Scribes of Haraj,

Sire, I send you greetings and wish to update you as to the steps I've taken since I departed your presence a fortnight ago.

Following your instructions to locate the renegade magician and, if possible retrieve the pages of the Twilight Tome which scrying revealed to you as in his possession, I followed word of his passage with two companions to a remote Barony far west of Talus. After ten days, I gained word he had deposed some minor baron of little importance and taken the title for himself after the death of one of the aforementioned companions deep in some local ruins. I disguised myself as an onion seller and scoured the area in question to find a rather fine residence built into the side of a hill and under heavy guard. This, I was assured, was the residence of the new Baron. First approaches earned me a lick on the back from a pole arm by one of the patrolling guards. I later returned to a local tavern and gathered the following information from local gossip. I have had little time to validate the information, but the majority rings true:

I was told that the magician, Arbiddance, with two or three companions, gained entrance to a series of underground areas which may or may not be related to the infamous Doomwatch. The general consensus is that the ruins are not related to that fatal place lest the Duke descend on the area and take command of it himself as he has done with other supposed entrances.

I was told that Arbiddance has gained certain powerful magics from underneath the hill which aided him in constructing the domicile and overthrowing the local Baron.

I was told that he imprisoned the former Baron somewhere within that complex, and that there are more than a few local residents willing to draw swords for him if he were somehow released.

I was told that the former Baron had drawn into the exploration of the ruins an evil priest and a mysterious cut throat from the wintery north.

Finally, I was told that Arbiddance and his band have not been seen in over two months, and that his commander of the guard has been keeping the affairs of the Barony in order on his own authority not because of allegiance to Arbiddance, but out of fear for the former Baron since no one seems to know exactly where he is held within those ruins.

After hearing these bits of information, I decided to investigate the ruins and the residence myself if at all possible. I found the area security to be amazingly lax just before dawn, and forced my way in through a window.

I searched the residence to the best of my ability. Having found four rooms impervious to my lockpicking skills, I retired from the scene and have elected to return again and venture into the basement where the actual entrance to the ruins is hidden. After I have investigated this area, I will send my next missive with more informaton.

My loyalty is only to you. Regards,
Malek-Taus-Dalan.
---------------------------------------------------
To Malek-Taus-Dalan

Let the crow whisper these words deep into your mind. Free your thoughts, and allow my commands to form in front of your eyes as mist from the spring morning.

I am pleased with your initial report and your efforts to track down the traitorous thief Arbiddance. I feel as you do that he is somewhere afoot within these ruins of which you speak. Indeed, your report corroborates information I obtained through other means more esoteric.

I charge you as follows: seek entrance into the depths below. Find the deposed Baron and free him so that he may regain his former status. I know of the Baron Falang; he will not be ungrateful. Seek out the traitor and ascertain his fate. If he is dead, then seek proof and return to me with a full report. You will find under your bed enough coins to hire any help you may need at your own discretion.

The pages he stole are secondary. If you find them, then good. If not, it is of no real importance since copies were penned long ago. It would be nice if you did find them, since I hate damaged tomes.

If you find the traitor alive, seek audience with him and, when within striking range fulfill your duty to the order and your masters. But before you strike, be certain to speak the following words: "Mor-Kilen bought the blade that is to be bathed in your blood."

Regards,
Mor-Kilen

DOOMWATCH...

2009-12-04T19:32:00.001-08:00

...will return on the Winter Solstice. Stand by.

A Case of Identity

2009-10-22T20:29:00.000-07:00

"Okay, the Hall of Xis was on the level below," the Prince said. "We saw no other way in or out except Xis' domain. I'm betting the Snake didn't either, so he probably went to the next level below that."

"It would still be nice to have a professional with us,"Qova added. "I know the last choice didn't end well, but a good thief is invaluable in places like this."

"We'll just have to make do without one... for the time being, at least," Arbiddance answered. "By the way, you never did say what you did with Ariya's body."

The Prince raised his eyebrows and mockingly glanced down the shaft. Qova coughed.

"Okay, so we start at the third level and see what happens," Arbiddance stated. "We descend in half an hour. I'm just glad the hidden room wasn't raided while we were imprisoned, so we have what we need to at least make a foray and see what's afoot."
----------------------------------------------------
The contraption creaked as it descended. Qova's nerves were on edge the entire time, but she refused to show it.

As they reached the next level, Arbiddance put his hand on the rope. The Prince looked at him, and the wizard said "why not have a look?"

The fighter locked off the rope and they stepped off into the small room.

At the gates, they stopped and surveyed the scene. The entire hall stank from the rotting corpses of the undead destroyed there a few days ago.

They carefully searched the side rooms, including the one in which they had been imprisoned. Their light amulets swept though each chamber, and they checked the walls for secret passages, but nothing was to be found.

Arbiddance looked at the single door at the end which Xis himself had emerged. He glanced at the others and then opened it.

Beyond was nothing but darkness.

They entered and looked around. The Prince looked at Arbiddance and shook his head. They began to search the walls.

On the opposite side, Qova's hand went through the wall. She hissed lightly to the others.

The Prince slid up to her side and gently poked his head through the wall. He pulled back. "Passage."

The three stepped through into the hidden hallway. Past what looked like empty jail cells they creeped toward a door at the end. It was iron; its hasp looked to be in good shape. The Prince listened at it and then shook his head to the others.

"Go," Arbiddance mouthed, and he and Qova readied themselves. The Prince tried the hasp and opened the door.

A swirling darkness was on the other side. They stepped through.

Qova brought up the rear and saw her friends suddenly freeze as if paralyzed. She stopped.

Arbiddance's head slightly rolled from side to side. His voice came in a raspy strain. "I'm stuck."

The Prince vibrated in his efforts to move, but he could only look around.

From the darkness, two pin light eyes came closer. "Kuka sina olet?"

That's Anayari, Arbiddance thought. And damned old Anayari, at that. Maybe...

"We are explorers," he answered in his best Anayari. "In search of one who betrayed us."

"Niin?"

"Yes," the wizard answered. "Who are you? Kuka sina olet?"

The pinlight eyes seemed to grow taller as the voice ominously answered:

"Xis."

Triads

2009-10-22T19:49:00.000-07:00

Arbiddance dismounted and strode toward the house. The two guards parted to allow him through the door.

Through this room, he entered another... and in there sat the tunnel leading below. He descended the passage, past the little mother arch, turning left and entering the meeting hall to see Qova.

The priestess sat at the table writing on a sheet of parchment. She replaced the quill pen when the wizard entered and looked up.

"I'll need at least another hour to finish these," she said.

"We descend in two," he replied. "Be ready."

"Are you taking your smoky friend with you?"

"As much as I hate to do so, yes," he picked up a sheet and glanced at it. "Where's the Prince?"

Qova thumbed toward the collapsed room. Arbiddance decided to see for himself.

The Prince was rigging some sort of pulley car when the wizard down the new steps into this room. A sturdy oak frame dominated the area around the shaft. A triple rope came through a large pulley and spread into three strands attached to a large round platform. Arbiddance looked to the left and saw the carpenter's tools used to construct this apparatus.

"Just until you get your carpet back," the Prince smiled. "This would have been easier with a little muscle."

Arbiddance pointed. "I'm serious when I say none of the soldiers can ever come down the passage into this complex." He stopped and rubbed his nose. "Personally, I think we can hold this place against the Duke's forces... if we need to do something like that."

"Let's hope not," the Prince said as he lightly spun the platform to see if the clearance was enough. "You know, the three-sided structure is traditionally the most unstable."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Arbiddance asked.

"I mean if pressure is put on one point, the other two will suffer," the Prince sat on the edge of the shaft. "The four sided structure, however, is much more stable."

Arbiddance gazed at the fighter for a moment and then examined the platform. It was thick and broad, with plenty of room for the three of them. The rope went through the middle of the platform, through the pulley and it's locking mechanism, and down again to hold the whole thing. It looked sturdy enough.

"And now the test, which poor me," the Prince said. He hopped onto the platform, and jerked the rope to release the lock. The whole platform shuddered, but held still.

"Not too far," Arbiddance said. The Prince grinned and began to shuffle the rope upwards. The platform slowly lowered into the dark.

Qova descended into the room and stood next to the wizard. "Will that thing hold all three of us?"

"Yes, it will. It's actually quite ingenius. We'll delay our descent for four hours so he can rest a little."

"Not too long," she replied. "I'm thirsty for blood."

Arbiddance glanced at her quizzically. "We all are."

Orders

2009-10-16T17:37:00.000-07:00

The Prince pulled the gag off the soldier's face.

"You're the guard captain, am I correct?"

"What's going on?" the man wet his mouth and croaked.

"A coup, I should think," he untied the man from the tree. In this small grove, almost every tree had a soldier decorating it. "I'm the rightful lieutenant of the new Baron, if you'll trouble yourself to read this abdication notice."

He handed the parchment to the captain, who snatched it and read it over. "That's the Baron's seal, for sure."

"Ex-Baron. Falang's going on a sabbatical... into the dungeons of the new ruler here. For awhile, at least."

"Who is the new Baron? Arbiddance?"

"He's the fellow who changed your war horse into a rat terrier... and he'll do the same for you if you don't play nice," the Prince answered. "Untie your men and report to Breakharrow Hill. You'll guard the exterior with your very lives and wait for hid Lordship to arrive and brief you."

The captain looked hesitant, but swallowed. "Yes, Sir."
................................................................................
"Is this all of you?" Arbiddance intoned from the top of the house on Breakharrow Hill.

"There's another squad hunting for bandits in the Wrike Woods, My Lord. They shoud return within two days," the Captain answered.

"Well, you'll fill them in when they do return," Arbiddance was the figure of the aloof and terrifying wizard looking down on his subjects. "You'll take these notices and nail them to the door of every public house in the Barony. All taxes are forgiven until winter. All levies are canceled until otherwise noted. Barracks will be built on this property, but for now you'll post guard here. This is the new baronial seat. In one month time, I'll be traveling to Talus to swear fealty to the Duke. I will take a handpicked escort at that time. Do you understand these things, Captain?"

"I do, Lord."

"Know that I am a fair man, but I will brook absolutely no resistance or trouble. Make that known, Captain." As if on cue, he pulled the bottle from under his robe and held it aloft in the air. The ef'fretah soared in from the northwest and settled next to the wizard.

"Know, great wizard, that the task is done," the formless smoke boomed.

"It is well. Return now to your abode and wait until I summon you yet again. you have served me well," Arbiddance replied, and the spirit returned to its bottle. Arbiddance capped it and returned it under his robes.

Every guard on the ground below stood absolutely still.

"My lieutanant speaks for me," Arbiddance gestured toward the Prince, "as does the Priestess Qovakrisstia. Their word is law. That is all for now."

Arbiddance descended the stairs with his comrades. As they reached the top floor, he turned to them. "Tomorrow morning, we go hunting for snakes."

Abdication

2009-10-16T17:10:00.000-07:00

"...When you have completed this task, return to me where ever you may find this vessel," Arbiddance told the ef'fretah. He watched the spirit bear the box containing body of Hern and the sealed scroll tube into the air and soar northwest into the distance.

Several pages of notes, Arbiddance thought. The best I can do to explain to his family what happened. Commoners are ignorant of magic and will wonder why we didn't just resurrect him. Nothing inside to bring back.

My friend is soulless.

The wizard turned to look at the Prince behind him. Their eyes met... each with the look of hard steel. It was time. The Prince was not grinning; now was the time to tap into that being which lurked behind the smile.

They descended the hill and into the abode.
.......................................

The Baron Falang reclined in his favorite chair and sipped his drink. The view out of the window displayed his fantastic garden in its riot of color and health.

He put down the drink and twisted his head slightly to the left. Obviously, somewhere a groundskeeper was murmuring, and the Baron wanted to hear. Not that he was paranoid, mind you... just good practice to know what's going on around you.

After two seconds, he realized the murmuring was chanting.

He rose and threw himself across the room. Even as he began to move, he heard the approaching roar... like a strong wind on the front of a storm.

A burst of heat and flame shattered the window where he had been sitting. Glass and fire swarmed through the air in the room, and the maddening roar of air being sucked out deafened him.

Falang's back was on fire. He screamed and rolled on the stone floor until the heat went away. He then jumped up and rushed down the hallway to summon his butler.

The Grinning Prince met him halfway, sword drawn and pointed directly at him. Caught at the collar, Falang was brought up short and sat down on the floor.

"No," the Prince whispered. "No, no, no, no. I'm afraid not, M'Lord."

Behind the Prince, Qova came strolling up the hallway with her hands behind her back. She smiled a schoolgirl smile at the Baron and stopped.

Arbiddance came from behind. He grabbed the Baron by his hair and swiftly brought a dagger against his throat.

"Time to abdicate, Your Grace," the wizard hissed.
.............................................
"I have a patrol in this area," the Baron quivered. "They'll deal with you when they return. I swear it."

Qova casually tossed a collection of horses' bridles in the Baron's lap.

"Balesire will have you drawn and quartered, and then he'll hang you, and then you'll be cut up into little bitty bits and buried alive," Qova flatly stated. "You turned an Oienduni priest loose in Doomwatch. What other possible reaction could he have?"

Falang shuddered in the chair while The Prince casually stomped out little flames here and there. Arbiddance was sitting on the table in front of the Baron with dagger in hand.

"You conspired with me. You agreed it was necessary," the Baron whimpered at the wizard. "You're just as guilty as I am."

"Maybe so," Arbiddance stared down with cold eyes, "but I have no fucking idea what you're talking about. See, my friends and I were exploring the ruins, when your snake handler and that she-wolf attacked us while we were battling undead...no, strike that... we were ridding the countryside of some horrible undead and were licking our wounds and mourning the loss of our comrade when the two attacked us. We killed her, but the snake priest managed to flee. Before she died, she intimated that the coins in her purse came from you."

Qova stood at the Baron's side. "Here's what's afoot," she scooted a piece of parchment across the table and beside Arbiddance. "You're going to write the Duke a letter indicating that you're totally abdicating your barony. You're turning everything over to Arbiddance. Arbiddance will also write a letter claiming possession of this barony and indicating he will travel to Talus in one month's time to swear fealty to the Duke. I doubt there will be any argument, so long as someone is running things over here."

"Why are you doing this?" the Baron moaned.

Arbiddance leaned closer. "For Hern. We're taking your barony. We're going to hunt down and destroy the Snake... and we're going to plunder Doomwatch itself for its secrets... not the least of which is the Gauntlet itself. Before three years have passed, there will be a new Duke in the March. Look on the bright side, maybe I'll give you a job as my court jester."

Yeah It's Been Awhile

2009-10-08T19:52:00.001-07:00

But I haven't decided where I want to go with this story yet. Have patience... I shall return!

The Prince Dances

2009-09-30T20:03:00.000-07:00

"If we run into anything here..." Qova began.

"Pray that we don't," Arbiddance cut her off.

They walked back to the room next to the shaft and looked up.

"How?" he muttered.

"I can climb it," the Prince replied. The other two looked at him like he was crazy.

"I can," he said. "Used to so a lot of rock climbing in my youth."

"The shaft walls are sheer," Arbiddance countered. "No way."

"There are always finger holds... the odd toe hold," he smiled. "I'll do what I can."

"If you slip..." Arbiddance said.

"Then you're rid of me," the fighter beamed. "If I get to the top, I'll drop some rope. It's really not that far. Give me a boost."

Qova and Arbiddance lifted the fighter up to the ceiling. He felt around for cracks, somehow found some, and began to pull himself up.

What he would never admit to them is that such cracks are few and far between.

He searched, pulled, scratched, pulled at chunks that dropped from his hands, and slowly inched up to the collapsed room. At last, he dragged himself over the edge and onto the floor.

Do I dare shout down to them? he wondered. I don't know where the Snake and that she-wolf are.

He strode across the room and climbed the rope up into the hall of gargoyles. No sign... good. Across into the original camp room, where he was told the goblins had lived. A coil of rope was in one corner. Hern's rope. Hern also kept a spare sword; he found it.

The Prince returned to the gargoyle hall, and instinct made him duck.

A blade whirled just over his head. He dropped the rope coil and rolled, bringing his sword up just in time to block another blow.

Ariya Thule came at him in a flurry of blows... faster than she ever gave a hint of being. The Prince parried each one.

Where the blazes did she come from? he wondered.

The two lithely danced back up the hallway to its northern end. The Prince twisted his sword left and right in a series of parries under the thief's skillful attacks. He was waiting for an opening.

But apparently, Ariya wasn't the type to get impatient. He noted that her pale blue eyes were beginning to glow a dim red.

He had one last trick to play. He allowed one blow to knock his sword out of position and slightly twisted with it. Ariya whirled to give a finishing blow, but the Prince twisted back to catch her sword arm at the wrist and kicked her in the stomach. He felt her pubic bone crack.

Ariya howled in pain and dropped her sword. Her other hand sought her wicked dagger. The Prince drew his leg back and kicked her again, this time in the chest. She flew backwards and landed on the floor.

He flipped his sword in the air, grabbed it by the blade and threw it straight into her stomach. Ariya lay still, her eyes blank and open to the ceiling.

The Prince withdrew his sword, kicked hers away. He pulled her dagger and stuck it in his boot. He hefted her body, picked up the rope and dropped both into the collapsed room. Once on the floor with them, he dropped her corpse down the shaft, made a loop in the rope and lowered it down to his comrades.

In The Darkness

2009-09-30T19:38:00.000-07:00

Qova came back to this world slowly. Her entire body felt as if she had fallen a great distance; the slightest movement made for tearing pain.

I honestly think I'm missing some skin, she thought, and opened her eyes.

Gods, I'm blind, she moved her eyes around and saw no light. I am blind. She finally realized that her hands were tied behind her back and her feet were bound. She shuffled, and heard the sound of dirt on stone. This place stank.

"Who is that?" a familiar voice reached out from the darkness. It was the Prince somewhere behind her.

"Me," she replied. "I can't see."

"We're in the dark, I'm afraid. The eternal dark of underground."

"Thank the gods," she rolled over, wincing at the pain from doing so. "Where is everyone else?"

"I don't know. I haven't been conscious much longer than you have."

Qova heard some shuffling.

"I'm sitting up, in a way. I'm bound hand and foot," the Prince said.

"So am I."

"Arbiddance?"

"I don't know," she said. "Hern?"

"Dead."

Qova closed her eyes.

Within a few minutes, the two had edged close to each other and picked at their bonds.

"Someone knows their knots very well," the Prince gritted through his teeth. "It's impossible."

They rested and pondered a new plan. After a few minutes, they heard heavy breathing from somewhere in the darkness.

"Arbiddance?" Qova shouted.

"Yeah!"

"Over here... the Prince and I. We're over here."

"Who else?"

"Not Hern."

"I know. I saw."

After a few seconds, Arbiddance spoke again. "I'm tied up."

"We are too. The knots are pretty tight. I think I've lost circulation in both legs," the Prince replied.

"What now?"

"I'm open to suggestions."

"I can't see a fucking thing," Arbiddance muttered. "Any guesses where we are? No, here's a better question: who put us in here?"

"I can guess," Qova moaned.

"Yeah."

A few more minutes.

"I think I've had some luck," the Prince volunteered.

"How's that?" Arbiddance asked.

"I'm feeling a piece of metal coming out of the floor. It has a rough edge. I'm going to attempt to saw my bonds... hopefully without any severe damage to myself." Qova and Arbiddance could hear him shuffling around and then a low rubbing sound.

After several more minutes, Qova heard something snap, and then she swore she heard the man grin.

"I'm free. Just a moment."

Within a minute, she felt his lanky form drag over her's and serious tugs began to pull at her bonds.

"Ow!"

"Sorry."

She was free.

"Can you come toward me Arbiddance?"

"I'll certainly try." Within a few minutes, the wizard was free as well.

The three spent time getting circulation back into their limbs as they sat up. Finally Arbidance spoke.

"I've been stripped. I have my robe and boots on, and that's it. No light amulet... nothing."

Qova added. "I'm down to my undergarments."

"Light!" the Prince shouted. "I need light!"

"I'll kill you."

"Would you two shut up? Especially you, you stick insect," Arbiddance hissed. He stood up and began to slowly feel his way forward in the darkness. Within a few steps, he found a wall, which he followed until he found a door. He put his back to it.

"Did I ever mention that I hate the dark?" he said. He took off one boot, chanted a small incantation, and the boot began to glow. They all covered their eyes, blinked and then looked around.

They were in a medium sized room. The place stank. Rivets were in the floor here and there, and the Prince was glad for that. All three were stripped down to their every day clothes except for Qova. Arbiddance noted that apparently she preferred a lot of freedom of movement under her formal vestments. Seeing that she was the center of attention, she made modest movements to cover herself.

Arbiddance turned to the door. He listened intently for any sound coming from the other side. Satisfied, he began to examine it. There appeared to be no lock or handle on the inside. Still, he felt the entire frame of the door, shook it, muttered another incantation and made a sharp rap on the door. Nothing happened.

"It would be nice to have a thief right now," the Prince whispered.

Arbiddance turned and gave the fighter a sour look. "It's held."

"Swelled?"

"No, I mean held... magically held. That disturbs me." Arbiddance stepped back and began to chant. Within a few seconds, the frame of the door began to glow, then the glow released in a light pop, and the door came open.

"It really disturbs me," he said again and looked through.

His first sight was his friend, still on the cold stone floor. There were corpses everywhere, none reposed, but Hern's appearance was the most savage of all. He was nearly cut through at a diagonal angle, and his facial was a total blank. They stepped all through into the Hall of Xis.

Qova choked at the sight of the fighter. The Prince turned away and strode toward the gates.

The Sword That Wasn't There

2009-09-27T19:53:00.000-07:00

Qova was chanting at the top of her lungs while the Snake also intoned his dark curses. He suspected they were cancelling each other out, since neither seemed to be doing any good against the horde of undead in the hallway.

By the time he stopped, the rank stench hit him, and he flinched and doubled over slightly... trying to fight off the nausea.

Qova hurled. She had never smelled anything like that in her life, and prayed never to do so again.

Arbiddance struggled to keep his calm as bolts of white energy streaked from his finger tips and slammed into the advancing corpses. He considered drawing his wand of frost, but knew too many allies were in the area of effect.

Zombies had overtaken Hern. He barely kept them at bay with savage swings of his blade. The Grinning Prince deftly wove an intricate pattern of swords as he rended creature after creature.

Qova rose to her feet, slinging spittle from her mouth as she blankly looked up in time to see a shadowy shape with a hideous smile and exaggerated talons flying toward her... followed by another. The second one fell to the floor as it was swatted by the Snake's staff. She screamed as the first one took her back down to the floor and tried to tear her throat out.

Arbiddance launched his second volley of magical missles into Qova's attacker. Bits of the creature flew away, but it continued its attack with manic energy.

Hern slew the last of his opponents and regrouped. He turned to the Prince just in time to be slammed against the wall by an obscenity once a living person. It swiftly worked its mouth open and close in its efforts to reach his throat, and Hern began to retch at the creature's rank smell. The Prince killed its twin and ran to help his fellow brother in arms.

Up the hallway, the armored figure laughed at the spectacle of our heroes struggling to defend themselves. His laughter was cut short by a sharp blow to his back, and he found Ariya Thule clinging to his back and leaning back for another blow. He reached over his shoulder to pull her off and slammed her to the floor. Ariya was stunned.

The armored figure drew from his belt a sword hilt, and... as he pulled it back for a stroke, Ariya could see the subtle shimmer in the air where the sword's blade should be. The figure slammed down as if to cut her in half, but she barely rolled out of the way and on her feet.

The Snake had beaten his opponent into some semblance of stillness and turned to strike the wraith attacking Qova. Arbiddance hustled to her side and plunged his dagger into the creature's back.

It shrieked an inhuman noise and rose from its prey to face its new attacker. The Snake slammed his staff into its back, and the undead fled from the melee.

Hern and the Prince finished their mutual opponent and turned to the armored figure. Pushing past Ariya, they joined battle from opposing angles. the figure took their blows and brought its unearthly sword down on Hern.

The fighter screamed. Not only was his sword shoulder badly cut, he also felt as if a piece of himself was ripped away into the darkness. He had an insane vision of seeing what he would normally see coupled with an exterior view which rapidly faded to black. He brought his shield up for protection.

The Prince deftly cut two more blows into the figure though it paid him scant attention as it drew back for another attack on Hern. The Prince desperately tried to parry the blow, but his blade cut through the "blade" of his opponent as if it wasn't even there. Hern screamed as the figures sword cut through his shield, his arm, and into his chest... and then he collapsed.

The Prince twisted in his stance and brought both blades into the side of the figure. It grimaced from the strikes and stepped back to take stock. All of its undead minions were either destroyed or fled from the scene. One intruder was dead, and two were on the floor, but it was still greatly outnumbered.

So it spoke. A foul word... spawned from the deepest and most evil reaches of hell itself. A word with but one purpose: to defile and destroy. The Prince collapsed... blood flowing from his eyes and ears. Ariya passed out. Arbiddance was flattened and knocked out. Qova closed her wet eyes and drifted away.

The Snake of Oiendun still stood... blood streaming from his eyes and ears. He pulled a small globe from his robes... no bigger than a large marble.

"Fuck you," he growled at the armored figure, threw the globe at him, and laughed as the figure was enveloped in black flame.

Into The Hall of Xis

2009-09-24T20:05:00.000-07:00

Arbiddance brought the second seating down into the room where the first group waited. A side of the shaft opened into the corner of a room and then continued down into the dark. This room was barely large enough to be comfortable for the six.

The Prince was merrily trying out his new light amulet Arbiddance had made for him several days ago. Ariya stood stock still in the shadows awaiting their next move. The Snake loomed in the shadows like death itself.

"Okay then," Hern gestured toward a single shrunken wood door in the room. "Let's get moving."

Ariya pushed ahead of him and stopped at the door. She gazed across its frame and down to the floor in front of it. Stooping, she lightly dusted the floor with her fingertips and tried the door handle from a crouching position. Turning to look behind her, she smiled to herself as she noted no one was standing directly behind her.

She turned it. It clicked and opened. Shifting to the side, she eased the door open.

Beyond it stretched a passageway, perhaps thirty feet long. Ariya checked the floor on the other side, and pronounced it clear. Hern drew his sword, straightened his helm, and bulled forward.

Ariya followed, then Qova, then Arbiddance. The Prince smiled at the Snake and waved him forward with his sword. The priest silently followed the party and the Prince brought up the rear.

The passage stopped suddenly. On the right was two gates of what appeared to be silver... chained and padlocked with a bar blocking both portals... and with a large hallway extending beyond into darkness.

Everyone shined their light sources down the hallway. Doorways decorated its sides, and very large flagstones made up the floor. Arbiddance peered closely at the fine sigils carved on the middle bar across the gates.

"Here lies the Hall of Xis," he read aloud.

"Who?" Qova popped up.

"Xis," the Snake replied. "An Anayari boogey man. A fireside tale of a death demon who slaughtered the lone traveler and took his soul below. A tale to frighten children."

Qova looked at the priest as if she wanted to say something cutting and thought better of it. Hern looked at the thief. "You think it's trapped?" he asked as she casually examined the gates.

"I doubt," she muttered. "Unless there is magic, I see nothing."

Hern snapped the chain with one blow to the lock. They pulled the chains free, lifted the bar, and opened the gates inward.

The gates didn't give easily. It took all hands to push both open, but after a minute, they were in the hallway.

Flagstones begin to rise up and down the area. From underneath them armored skeletons climbed up out of hiding spaces and whispered for blood. Hern readied himself for attack, and Qova pulled free her holy symbol.

But the Snake beat her to the draw. He produced his own holy symbol and held it high as it began to glow with a jade light, and his voiced boomed down the hallway.

"By Oiendun's Eyes I command thee!
By His fevered scales I command thee!
By the fangs of pain I command thee!"

Qova gripped the sides of her head as her temples throbbed.

"By His grip which brings slow death, I command thee!
From Hell's breath, I command thee!
Ye are creatures of my bidding now!"

The skeletons stood as if enraptured by the evil priest's words. The Snake swayed his holy symbol side to side, and their skulls followed.

"Now I command thee," the Snake snarled, "to destroy one another!"

The rest of the party watched in amazement as the skeletons began an arena-style combat... wading into each other in a frenzy of destruction. Within a few minutes, the one skeleton left, missing his sword arm... staggered toward the Snake like a dog seeking its master. The priest simply lifted his snake-headed staff high and brought it crashing down on the creature's skull with a force that gave Hern pause.

"Impressive, if not a little sick," Arbiddance admitted. "I doubt that's the worst of our troubles here, though."

"Indeed not," whispered the voice of death from the far end of the hall, where a door opened, and a large armored figure stepped out into the light. To each side, doors flew open, and various forms of undead slowly emerged. the armored figure laughed, "Welcome to my Hall and prepare to join my ranks."

Countdown

2009-09-24T19:19:00.000-07:00

Ariya and the Snake were briefed the next morning about what had been encountered so far under Breakharrow Hill.

The Snake seemed more amiable when outnumbered. He asked intelligent questions, seemed to take copious mental notes, and actually commended the Breakharrow Gang on their actions so far.

But there was no way Hern, Arbiddance, Qova and the Grinning Prince could possibly feel comfortable around him.

In the end, the six assessed where they were, and decided either another probe down the hallway to Doomwatch or a trip down the shaft was first priority, though the Snake expressed great interest in the teleportation fountain and voiced a desire to investigate it later... alone if necessary.

Fine by me, Qova thought.

The main proponent for the hallway was Hern. Arbiddance suspected the fighter didn't like to leave things unfinished, and the encounter with the brass golem had stopped them from exploring further.

The Snake favored the shaft. It provided better access with a quick means of escape via the wizard's flying carpet.

They tossed a gold coin. The Snake won.

Working the door mechanism to open the left door, the party gathered their gear and proceeded to the collapsed room and its mysterious shaft.

Hern turned to survey the party as they gathered at the site. The Snake was the last person he locked eyes with, and the priest's gaze upon him made his blood run cold. As Arbiddance rolled out his carpet, Hern queried himself as to where he had seen that sort of gaze before, and as he watched the Prince and Ariya join the wizard on the device and descend to the next level, it dawned on him.

It was the sort of gaze someone would spend on the already dead.

The Gods Themselves

2009-09-20T19:27:00.000-07:00

"I want all of you to understand," Arbiddance spoke softly to his three comrades, "I have no illusions about his intentions. But there's more to this than you know, and I'm going to ask you both to trust me on this. In time, I'm betting it will become apparent as to why he should come along."

"What about her?" Qova asked. She glanced toward the door. "Is she really a werewolf, or is just a cult thing?"

"Oh, she is," Hern answered. "You don't get those tattoos for free. She was introduced to the werewolf plague probably at a very young age. It's no big deal to her."

"What you had better watch is her dagger," the Prince offered. "The one on her right hip? It's a sapirik... a drinker."

"A drinker?" Qova looked at him quizzically.

The Prince smiled. "Let's just say she has a drinking problem. In any case, if she goes into a battle frenzy, don't turn your back on her. Ever."

"Back to the issue at hand," Hern leaned back into his chair. "Exactly what function is a Oienduni priest going to serve during our little explorations? I'm not sure if I want to seek healing from him."

"I'm sure you won't get it," Arbiddance rubbed his beard. "It's this simple: he's along as an observer. When he's observed what he's here to observe, he'll leave, and that should be the end of it."

"Observe what? I want to know, and know now. Do you know?"

Arbiddance sighed and looked up. Should I tell them now and perhaps this whole thing falls apart?

"Okay, look. First off, the Baron's sanctioned this. Hell, he's fanatical about it. If we don't play along, then he'll most likely boot us off the property and this whole thing's for nothing. That's one. Two: there are larger factors at play here. I'm not sure I can explain."

"Try," the Prince replied, and there was no grin on his face.

Arbiddance looked at him, looked down, and slowly added, "right, here it is..."

When the Alpine Throne extended its power into the Raven March, it was met with fierce resistance from what was left of the Anayari Kingdom. The March itself got its current name from the feasts enjoyed by the ravens after each bloody battle that took place. Slowly the forces from the North marched through each village and town until they were exhausted, and the territorial lines were formed were they are today.

Behind the forces of the King came the priests of Oiendun... a small cult, little known except in the cesspits of the largest cities. The priests were searching for something... everyone could see that, but no one knew exactly what. They went from town to town, village to village, with special dispensation from the King himself to kill who they chose and take what they wanted.

The soldiers of Anayar made one last rally and met with the King's army south of Talus. The priests and wizards of Anayar used some sort of ancient magic... and the records are fuzzy as to exactly what... and set the Northerners to flight, but the Oiendun priests intervened and used counter-magic of their own... and that turned the tide. After that battle, the war was basically over.

Now, surviving priests and wizards on both sides pretty much agree on one thing: the magic used in both camps were tied to one another. Each side possessed pieces of twin relics, and there are several sets of these relics. They're carefully locked up and protected, except for a couple of sets. The consensus is that these relics are alive but occasionally take the form of gauntlets. Seperated from its mate, one gauntlet is weak; combined, the wearer has terrible powers.

The Oienduni priests have ancient claim to these gauntlets. As horrible as it sounds, the gods themselves have granted this... however, the Baron has one gauntlet from the sixth and final set... the most powerful set, and he says its mate is somewhere in here in this section of Doomwatch.

"The Snake of Oiendun is one of the most powerful enforcers of his cult. He says he's merely here to see if the mate is here and if it's safe. I don't believe that, and neither does the Baron, I think," Arbiddance muttered. "But if it's here, we need to know. If it's here, then we need the Snake to lead us to it, and then we'll kill him."

I'm Afraid So, Arbiddance.

2009-09-18T20:07:00.000-07:00

It took a threat to summon the ef'fretah and have the Baron's house torn down stone by stone to get Falang alone, but Arbiddance now had his Lordship pinned up in the hallway.

"Do you have any... singular... idea... who or what he is?" Arbiddance shouted through his teeth. "He's an abomination to everything that's alive and wants to stay that way. To even think of giving him any sort of access to the wonders of Doomwatch is insane!"

"I'll have you to remember who you're addressing," Falang suddenly grew cold.

"Fuck your title and fuck your lineage with a twisted halberd!" Arbiddance hissed as he pointed his finger in the Baron's face. "I'll have you to remember who you are addressing, and before I proceed to have you and your house torn apart, I want to know what you're thinking!"

Falang's eyes narrowed in on the wizard. He didn't breathe for many seconds, and then twisted his head to one side and thought. Finally, he took a deep breath and said "I'd rather show you. Come."

He took the wizard by the arm and drew him to an adjacent chamber. This space had no windows, and the doorknob responded to a caress by the Baron's hand. Both stepped inside and Falang lit a candle.

He turned to the seething wizard as if gauging his worthiness, then stepped over to a shelf and took down a large ornate box. Thumping the lock, he opened it, turned it and revealed the contents to Arbiddance.

Arbiddance shifted his gaze from Falang to the box. He peered inside.

After a few seconds, he asked "Which one is that?"

"The sixth," Falang replied, not taking his gaze from the wizard's face.

Arbiddance looked some more and then took a deep breath. "It's that close?"

Falang's eyes widened and he nodded. "I think so."
-----------------------------------------------------

Arbiddance slowly walked back into the council chamber and closed the door behind Falang. He gazed at his companions and nodded his head toward the menacing figure.

"He's coming with us."

The Wolf and The Snake

2009-09-18T19:40:00.000-07:00

"That's not the same fellow who met us last time," Arbiddance thought, as the Baron's majordomo led them to a new room and asked them to make themselves comfortable around the oaken table that dominated the room.

"His Lordship will be with you momentarily," the elderly servant quietly said as he pulled the door shut behind him. Qova scowled, pointed after him and looked at Arbiddance, who shrugged.

Qova, Arbiddance, and Hern seated themselves on one end of the table, while the Prince loitered near an open window and appeared to admire the garden outside. After about ten minutes, the door opened and Lord Falang squeezed through. He took one look at the Prince and looked slightly shocked before turning his attention to the others.

"I'm so very glad you returned," he gestured for them to take their seats again.

The adventurers sat back down and Arbiddance spoke up. "I'm assuming you received her message about our need. We don't make this request lightly, your Lordship. It's our opinion that things are more dangerous than we perceived within those ruins, and a wise eye would go a long ways in keeping down... er... casualties."

"Very wise," Falang answered. "Very wise, indeed. When I received your note," he nodded to Qova, "I sent for a specialist whom I've employed before and who was staying close."

"And I simply couldn't resist the summons," a female voice spoke from across the room. Everyone except Falang jumped when the realized she had been standing near a corner chair in the shadows the entire time.

The thief was a woman, young but not immature, with flaxen blonde hair and piercing blue eyes. Despite her dress in Onrothic attire, she was evidently even further north in origin than Hern. Her sharp facial features made her seem cruel, and even though her eyes fixed onto one sight, her entire head slightly bobbed up and down as if she were constantly trying to get a better view. Hern quickly scanned her and saw one thing he didn't like right off the bat, and Arbiddance did the same. Qova didn't like her simply on principle. The Prince merely grinned and bowed.

"This is Ariya Thule, late of Vitteric and other points," Falang offered an introduction. He quickly named the rest of his guests for Ariya's sake. "She quite possibly the best delver you'll find in this region."

"My price," Ariya evenly spoke in a gutteral accent, "is 20% of all we find. A reasonable fee given what you have discovered so far, I think. Don't you?"

"Right, okay. I have a question," Hern turned to Falang. "What is the date?"

Falang seemed puzzled, smiled, and said "it's the 12th of the Fourth. Why?"

"The 12th of the... okay, so... we're... what?... eight days away from a Black Sun? And you thought it would be a good idea to send a werewolf with us?"

A shocked look passed through the faces in the room except for Ariya and Hern. The fighter pointed to the twin wolf tattoos on her wrists. "Few around here have seen those before. I have."

She spoke up. " I stay underground and away from the rays, and all will be well. Otherwise..." she shrugged and gazed off toward a bookshelf.

"I assure you," Falang countered, "this will not be a problem. Ariya is well in control of her... ah... affliction, and..."

"Blessing," she interrupted. "Benefit. Talent. Not affliction. Gout is an affliction. The fangs of Haki seized my neck but did not harm me for he saw great worth in me. So, he made me his child. You may need me and my affliction."

"I'm not sure this is a good idea," Arbiddance said as he began to rise from the table. "The dangers outweigh the..."

"What outweighs what?" the thief countered. "You are... at least one-quarter Ak'Kori, if not half. Right? Ak'Kori are killed on sight this far north from the plains. What keeps your head on your shoulders around here?"

Arbiddance smiled to himself. "The blessings of Abaoth. That and people tend not to fuck with a wizard if they can help it. This helps too." He raised his right hand and showed the ornate ring on his forefinger.

"A Naejite officer's ring," Ariya said.

"I won it in a card game," Arbiddance said with a straight face.

"Oh, let's let her come along," the Prince interjected. "We'll buy some wolfsbane from the local herbalist and keep an eye on her. All thieves should be in the front anyway where they can be seen."

"Okay, but we've got a special place for you already prepared come the Black Sun," Qova said. "I'm deadly serious about that."

Ariya shrugged. Hern and Arbiddance looked at each other warily and both sighed and nodded.

"Then it's agreed!" Falang smiled. "That makes the next part seem almost trivial."

"What next part?" Hern shot the Baron a look.

Falang leaned back in his chair and gazed at the ceiling. "Ahhh.... situational developments compel me to send a... an observer with you. So... let me fetch him, and you can all get acquainted." He rose, slapped his hands together and left the room smiling.

Qova, Arbiddance, Hern, and the Prince slowly looked at each other. The Prince suddenly turned to Ariya. "So, what prompted you to leave Vitteric and come to this side of the sea?" He threw a casual arm onto a bookshelf and leaned toward her grinning. Ariya turned to look him in the eye. "I have a bounty on my head."

"How much?" Qova spoke up.

Ariya turned to her. "Not enough to pay for your resurrection."

Qova pointed at the thief and started to retort when the door opened again. Falang sauntered in and stepped to the side to allow passage for his "observer."

The man actually entered the room before he entered the room. An aura of undeniable cold bloodedness preceeded him which made the others suddenly feel right at home with Ariya. He was tall, somewhat muscular in the manner most men his height were. His craggy face was draped with a long mustache and eyes that seemed to damn everything they gazed upon.

He stepped forward, cast his glance across the adventurers, and spoke in a cold metallic voice. "I am the Snake of Oiendun, and I am here merely to watch and learn."

Arbiddance heard the name, and slowly drooped his head down toward the tabletop.

Proactive Visualizations

2009-09-17T19:27:00.000-07:00

For tomorrow's post, here are likenesses of the two NPCs being introduced:

Abby Brammell of "The Unit" as Ariya Thule of Vitteric

Jake "The Snake" Roberts as "The Snake of Oiendun"

Lightning Strikes The Hillside

2009-09-17T18:54:00.000-07:00

Author's note: two weeks without a post is inexcusable. I've been busy with real life events, but I'll try to make a habit of posting once a day or so from now on.

Qova checked the skin color of her ward and then looked into his eyes.

"Bringing you back from the brink is getting to be a habit," she scowled. "One day... one day there will be nothing I can do."

Hern shifted in his bed and shot what he thought was a disarming grin. "Well, somebody has to take on the big beasts."

Qova scowled again and rose from the edge of the bed. "You rest for the remainder of the day. Magic only goes so far. There are aspects to the human body that require time to heal. Doomwatch will wait."

"So," Hern rose in his bed a little. "You think it's Doomwatch too?"

"Count on it," the Prince cooed from the open doorway. "Arbiddance and I made a cursory examination of the chamber that housed the golem. Empty, but the golem's nape was marked with this." He sauntered in and produced a rubbing with a unique symbol:

Hern gazed at the symbol. "Means nothing to me."

"I recognize it," Qova spoke up. "That's not a good sign."

Hern gazed at both. "Okay, why not?"

"It means," Arbiddance interjected as he walked in, "the golem was created by one of the most enigmatic individuals to ever roam the March. Semaj Ekad Ralc. The Dread Khan of Ajidika himself." Arbiddance took the rubbing and gazed at it thoughtfully. "Lightning strikes the hillside."

Hern managed a puzzled look. "Isn't he the one who got himself thrown into Doomwatch on purpose and then wound up running the place for two decades or so? People had to pay him a toll to get out and so on."

"The same," Arbiddance answered. "And if he was creating and stationing golems here, then we're somehow closer to the Mother Gate than we thought... and I don't see how... or his underground empire extended further than anyone knew."

"I'd rather not run into another of those golems for awhile yet," the Prince said. "Given what you know, what else do you think we can expect?"

The wizard shrugged. "Semaj Ralc was a mystery even to those who dealt with him on a regular basis. His agenda was his own; the best guess I've ever heard was that he intended to transform the nature of Doomwatch from prison to a proving ground for the strongest and best. The Taloned Dukes have always used it for a oubliette of sorts. Perhaps the Khan saw potential in the place and wanted to raise a personal force of the best of the best. I favor that theory myself, though it doesn't fully explain why he ultimately left the place on his own." Arbiddance sat down at the table and rubbed his chin. "I'd say the golem was designed less as a guardian and more for weeding out the weaker explorers who might get in. If that's the case, expect tests, I'd say."

"I'm going to make a suggestion here," Qova broke in. "We're fine for swords and magic. It's stealth we lack; we need a professional who understands underground labyrinths, traps and other fun things you find in places like that. It's time we brought in a thief."

The Prince laughed as he spoke. "You bring on in, and you guarantee every cutpurse and mongrel in the region will be trying to get in there. I'm under the impression this entrance needs to be kept secret."

"Well," she replied, "I've been looking into that, and sent word to Falang. He might be able to recommend someone already in his employ... for a bigger cut of the treasure, of course."

"Of course," Hern snorted. "I'll admit, if someone hadn't stepped on that trigger, I'd be in a lot better shape right now. It's not a bad idea."

Arbiddance looked at the Prince, who merely shrugged. "Okay then... provided his Lordship has the kind of thief who, once bought, stays bought."

2009-08-30T20:58:00.000-07:00

Doomwatch Brass Golem

Armor Class: 3 or 0 [16 or 19]
Hit Dice: 9
Attacks: 4 hand attacks of 1d6+2 or 4 weapon attacks
Saving Throw: 6
Special: Facial mimicry, Electrocution, Weapon Rebound
Move: 9
Challenge Level/XP: 12/2,000

(S&W stats; OSRIC stats may be found in Monsters of Myth from which the text is taken and modified)

A brass golem appears as a metal humanoid figure with an amorphous face and four arms. It typically wears the livery of its master, though it may be dressed in other
fashions.

Once in combat, the golem’s face takes on the smiling appearance of its opponent thus causing the opponent to make a save vs spells or suffer a –2 to hit due to being unnerved at the sight for 1d2 rounds. The golem attacks with all four arms upon an opponent, and may wield weapons (25% chance for each golem encountered) or
attack barehanded. It may focus all four attacks on one opponent or divide them among multiple targets.

If the golem successfully hits one opponent with all four free hand attacks, it may deliver an electrical charge to its victim inflicting 3d6 HP of damage (save vs rods for half). It may do this every combat round.

Once every 10 rounds, the golem may harden its metal and increase its AC to 0. Melee attacks upon the golem that miss by a roll of 2 while it is in its hardened state automatically rebound upon the attacker; the victim must roll to attack himself at -2 and miss in order to avoid taking damage from his own weapon. Failed missile attacks upon the golem while it is in this state rebound in a random direction. The hardened state of the golem lasts for 3 rounds.

Brass golems are usually assigned a particular territory to patrol. Any treasure found will be that of prior victims, and will be found scattered in that area.
Though rare, brass golems may be found in various dungeons built by mages. Unfortunately, the creation process has been lost to time. A functioning brass golem brought back to civilization may fetch a price as much as 30,000 gp; a disabled one is worth no less than 15,000 gp.

TREASURE: 25% - 1d4x1000 copper coins, 20% -
1d3x1000 silver coins, 90% - 10d8 gem stones, 80% -
5d6 jewelry items and 70 % - 1 magic weapon, 1 magic
armor and 1 miscellaneous magic item.

The Way To Doomwatch

2009-08-30T20:48:00.000-07:00

The entire group entered the hallway and moved up with Hern and the Prince in the lead and Arbiddance and Qova in the rear. Once they reached the side passage, they stopped and focused their amulet lights down it.

"You must tell me where I can get one of those," the Prince muttered. "I don't like dancing by someone else's light."

"I'll make you one later," Arbiddance replied.

The passage seemed to end at a large iron door much like the others. Hern spoke. "Let's go a little further up and see what's there, and then return to this one." All agreed and moved forward.

Just past the right passageway, Qova stepped forward and felt something give under her foot. A light click accompanied it. Everyone froze, looked at each other, and then looked around at the walls and then the ceiling. They collectively exhaled, and the Prince grinned even wider.

Qova jumped when the iron door flew open with a tremendous crash. Hern stepped back and peered down the passage.

Through the door charged a large humanoid figure... roughly 7 feet tall and the color of brass. It had four arms, and each hand held a large sword.

"Heads up!" Hern shouted and took a defensive posture to receive and attack. He sensed the Prince drawing both of his short swords and moving behind him to take a slightly recessed position on his right. Arbiddance stumbled back a little toward the way they came. "Keep an eye out the way forward," Hern told Qova. "This may be an ambush!"

The brass creature stepped forward with alarming speed, its face a blank stare that morphed into a mimicry of Hern's face as it brought all four swords down on the fighter.

Hern was stunned to see his own face looking back at him even as he dodged two blows, parried a third, and felt the fourth bite into his knee. He stumbled a bit and switched legs to return a sword blow from his weaker side. The Prince lunged forward in a stabbing motion with both blades only to find them bouncing off the creature's abdomen.

Hern's blow seemed to gouge a gash into the chest of his opponent. He brought his sword down in an arc and then reversed its momentum to strike at the creature's crotch. Always been a weak spot in the past, he thought.

The creature retracted its swords, brought the left two toward the Prince, and used the right ones to scissor Hern's head. There was nothing the fighter could do except take the punishment.

The Prince parried one blow while sweeping his other sword against the creature's knee in hopes of tripping it. It didn't, but he sliced a severe gash into its leg.

Golem, Arbiddance observed from his position. It's a golem. Look how it mechanically it moves. But what to do... what to do...

Qova braved a look at the battle to see Hern flopping senselessly to his knees and bound for the floor. She grabbed him by his belt and pulled him back with all her strength. The golem took the opportunity to land two more blows on the fighter before he was dragged to safety.

The Prince primed his swords to deliver another flurry of blows before he felt himself also dragged back, by Arbiddance who shoved a wand past him and uttered a single word.

A blast of shocking cold shot forward and knocked the golem on its back... it's exterior coated with a thick ice. It floundered on the floor as the Prince lunged forward, pinned one of its swords to the wall with one of his own, and used his other sword to severe the golem's hand. He grunted when yet another sword stabbed deep into his back.

Qova stepped over Hern and into the fray with her mace drawn high... bringing it down on the creature's face (slowly forming to look like her own). She smashed it in with one savage blow.

And suddenly all was still.

Beyond The Middle Door

2009-08-30T20:17:00.000-07:00

"A wonderful trick," the Prince observed as smoke flowed from under the iron door and back into Arbiddance's bottle. "What's its name?"

"As if," the wizard smirked, replaced the cap, and shoved the bottle into his side pouch. All eyes turned to the open middle door.

Hern led the way by shoving the door wider. Beyond, they saw a hallway that extended perhaps 60 feet and then ended. The walls, ceiling, and floor of the hallway were intricately carved on a level that spoke of obsession. No other doors were apparent. The four stepped in.

"I'm so glad you invited me on a little expedition into the unknown," the Prince murmured. "I'll try not to disappoint."

"I'd be more impressed if you kept the chitchat to a minimum," Qova glanced at the Prince. "I mean... you usually have something intelligent to say, but your idle talk makes me nervous." Even as she said it, it occurred to her that perhaps he was nervous as well, and that's why he babbled. Useful information, that, she thought to herself.

They stepped into the hallway and looked around. Arbiddance and Hern looked closely at the carvings on all surfaces and then looked at each other with a grim smile.

It was as if 100,000 drunken worms had decided to mess up someone's cement job. Almost impossible to trace one particular carved line very far before losing it, the depth of detail staggered the eye and made focusing impossible.

"Is someone hiding something?" Arbiddance asked aloud. "We should search carefully for secret doors here."

The four spent the next hour scouring in detail every square foot. In the end, after exhausting themselves, two were found at the end of the hallway.

"One leads on, and one leads to the left," Hern observed. "Now which way do we go?"

"I have an idea the one on the left ultimately leads behind our lair," said Arbiddance. "Let's try the one ahead."

The search had revealed a small swirl pattern that depressed and released the door. A smell of dank air and dust assailed their nostrils. They looked through the doorway and saw a smoother-stoned hallway extending on out of their light with a side passage on the right.

"Here we go," Herne smirked at his companions and crossed through the doorway.

Comments

2009-08-30T13:31:00.001-07:00

I've turned comments back on. Comments are subject to approval and word verification. I'm sorry, but that's the only way to keep spam out of here. Please feel free to say what you want on any post.

Another entry tonight.

Scorecard... Can't Tell The PCs Without A Scorecard...

2009-08-29T16:29:00.000-07:00

A private inquiry for some time back about what the PCs of this story look like prompted me to finally make this post. Below are images of actors who more than resemble our heroes...

So if this were a movie or miniseries, who would play who?

Arbiddance (played by Joe Montegna of Criminal Minds)

Qovakrisstia Darkhair (played by a younger and hotter Kirstie Alley... indeed, she was the inspiration for the PC years ago)

Hern of Kalmyr (played by Josh Holloway of Lost)

The Grinning Prince (played by... who else?... the great Tim Curry)

The Lord Falang (played by the subtly creepy Kyle MacLachlan)

So now you know who to think about as the story continues...

2009-08-23T18:24:00.000-07:00

"Definitely a history," The Grinning Prince spoke as he examined the walls. "This is, of course, very valuable. It may tell us more about Doomwatch itself and its origins."

He stepped back and rubbed his eyes. "That's assuming, of course, there's a connection between this place and Doomwatch itself." He looked at his three friends. "I think you're on the right track with that. Look here," he pointed to a lined off section. "This describes the tunneling that took the workers far from the arch... that's the one out front... straight into the heart of 'Daemwech'"

"That's Anayari," Arbiddance added. "Or it sounds like it."

"I think you're going to find that Doomwatch itself predates the Anayari occupation of this area. They may have just added to it here and there," the Prince mused.

The four moved south toward the fountain that had sent the first three on their icy adventure. They stopped at the archway and gazed at it for a few minutes. Before stepping back.

"We'll have to try that again someday," Hern muttered.

"Oh? And what if this time it lands us somewhere we can't get back from so easily," Qova replied. "We lucked out with that trip."

"Yes, I really want to try that Ak'Kori carpet of yours, Arbiddance," the Prince beamed wider than usual. "I've never seen one, let alone flown across the sky like a sultan on his way to the mountain."

They backtracked to the passageway that extended on the left. Looking down, they saw two doors, two passageways, and another arch.

The Prince slapped his own face and gazed at the others in light mockery. "Oh dear, another arch! I wonder if has any significance or if it's just holding up some dirt and stone."

The moved down the passage way and opened the first door. It led into an empty room. The first passageway led to another door and turned left, so they left that one for now. The second passageway was short and ended at a large door.

Arbiddance, looked at his hand-drawn map and mentally measured off the distance they had traveled so far. "If I'm right, and I usually am... that door should exit into the small chamber off from the main entrance chamber... the one with two doors. But there's not a third door there. So... either I'm wrong... which I refuse to acknowledge... or there's deception afoot."

Hern approached the door. It had a large brass handle on the left side and would open to the right when pulled. The fighter glanced at his companions to see if they were ready, and pulled open the door.

A recessed space of perhaps two feet was behind the door. Lined with brick, it held a large dial of three feet in diameter. The dial had three notches marked with a strange rune each, and an extended handle resembling the minute hand of a clock. The handle was raised a few inches from the face of the dial. The handle pointed toward the middle rune.

"Anyone have any clue as to what those symbols mean?" Arbiddance asked. No one spoke up. "Okay, so we move the handle to see what happens?" Again, no one said a word.

"Fine," he stepped up and gently touched the handle. He shifted it to the left and released it. A large groan and a slam echoed through the hallways, and the handle returned to the middle position.

"What in the hells was that?" Qova shouted.

"Something metal dropped," the Prince replied. "I think a door dropped somewhere. Qova and Hern went back the way they came; a few minutes later, they returned out of breath. "There's an iron door blocking the doorway into our lair."

Arbiddance raised his eyebrows and pushed the handled to the left again. Another groan, followed by a clanking met their ears. The two looked again, and the door was raised.

"I'll wager," the wizard said "that moving it to the right will do the same for the door leading here." He moved the handle to the right and was proven right.

After some time and play, he discovered that both doors could be secured at the same time.

"Now, why have both doors drop at once," Hern asked. "To keep something out, or keep something in?"

Qova made a suggestion. "I'll stand out by the arch, you drop both doors, and let's see what happens."

The rest agreed it was probably safe enough for her to go it alone, and she took her place in the entry chamber near the arch and waited for Arbiddance to work the mechanism.

After a few minutes, one door dropped, then the other. Qova looked around for any changes and almost didn't notice that the middle door was now slightly open.

Long Live The Prince

2009-08-18T19:57:00.000-07:00

Allow me a page or two, Gareth, to explain the phenomenon known as the Grinning Prince and his relationship to your brother.

The Prince, as he is commonly known (and who knows his real name?), is rumored to be the scion of some self-styled Onrothic King or such. His family was executed in a power struggle with a rival clan and he would have been too had his nanny not smuggled him out of the castle in a hay wagon. The gangly child passed from stead to stead until he fell under the tutelage of Kagor the Blind.

It was in the training halls of Kagor that the Prince became one of the deadliest swordsmen in the entire March... perhaps one of the best throughout the whole Northern Kingdom. He served two years in the court of the Alpine Throne before he decided enough water had passed under the bridge, so to speak. He returned to the Onrothy and singlehandedly slaughtered the entire family of the warlord who destroyed his youth.

I've seen the Prince in action. While most fighting men tend to take blows and allow their armor or shield to protect them, the Prince wears little in the way of protection. He has the remarkable talent of not being where the blow falls... just a few inches to either side or perhaps behind his attacker in the blink of an eye. In fact, the only person I've ever seen draw blood from him was Qova herself, and that from a surprise right hook. More on that one later.

Regarding the Throne, I cannot confirm any speculation that he was, in fact, his Majesty's legendary jester/assassin known as the Mook. If it were proven true, however, I wouldn't be surprised.

It is the personal opinion of many that he is mad. Personally, I think it's an act, and I refuse to fall into his game of homely distraction. On the other hand, I make personal jabs at him now and then, but I would never think of truly upsetting him unless he were unarmed and tied to a column or something equally strong.

I think he intends to pay you a visit in the distant future. He and Hern were rather close... Hern once told me the Prince led your brother out of the Shattermoors when Hern was part of the ill-fated expedition to the infamous Red Mausoleum. Without aid from the Prince, Hern felt sure he would have died under the minions of the mad druid who lived in those parts.

The two met up here and there over the years. Hern returned the favor in a swanky tavern in Eac after the Prince had humiliated some farmworkers; the two battled their way out of the tavern and out of town with the local farms short a few hands the next morning.

I've rambled enough; I just wanted you to have some understanding of the character known as the Grinning Prince and the part he played in the death of your brother.

The Grinning Prince Arrives

2009-08-11T15:47:00.000-07:00

Construction for the house began quietly enough. Hern had acquired the building supplies from neighboring carpenters who were curious as to why he didn't want them anywhere near the project. After several wagon trips, the area near the hill entrance was filled with beams, planks, shingles, poles, barrels of nails and pegs, and stone.

Arbiddance sat on a nearby rock cradling the bottle as if it were a fragile infant. Qova stood further up the hill looking up and down the road.

Shit, she thought as she spotted the familiar figure trotting their way on horseback.

"Guess who's coming," she muttered to Hern as he finished unloading the last wagon. "Your friend, Smiley."

Hern turned to the sound of the hoofbeats. The rider crossed the ditch and entered their camp.

"I wonder," the ridculous looking man cried out. "Could you spare a cup of water? For the horse you see. He's not particular in what sort of vessel it comes in."

The rider was a tall, thin man with no apparent muscle whatsover. His head was too small for his body, and his grin was too big for his head. And he always grinned... even in his sleep, Hern once noted. His hands looked like butter paddles at the end of small handles... he stuck one out toward Hern, who shook it.

"I suppose we could water your nag with one of our finest crystal chalices," Hern quipped. "You, however, will have to make do with a trough."

"Oh, that's fine. I'm not too proud," the man laughed and turned to Qova. She always got the impression he was sizing her up for potential dinner based upon the glistening in his eyes. "And my dear Qova... how are you?"

"Well, I was fine until you lowered the tone of this little get-together," she shot back smiling. "You just can't resist fucking up someone's fine day, can you?"

"My dear," the man grabbed at his heart as if shot with an arrow. "Barbs from you are more precious than the sweetest whispers from an entire harem. Speaking of... how would you like to join mine? You'd want for nothing, I promise you."

"I'd rather kiss a naga, but thank you all the same," she beamed. Though it didn't seem possible, the man's smile grew even wider.

Arbiddance seemed to be napping against the rock, or at least faking one. The man cried out "Arbiddance! Still the life of the party I see...!" Arbiddance replied only with a middle finger.

"Yes, that's right. Do it again," the man mumbled through his smile.

"Prince, I hate to break this up," Hern interjected, "but we're about to build a house right where you're standing."

"A house? My word!" he looked quickly around. " I shall, of course, retire to a safe distance lest I be accidentally struck by a hammer or something like that."

He led his horse back across the ditch, unstrapped his mandolin, and began to pluck wildly at it as he bent his knees in time:

O Qova the darkmane
Can drive a man insane
With her gaze and her womanly wiles...

And nary a warrior
Can stand up before her
Or say no to her ruby-red smiles...

Qova looked at him as if his head were two dogs stuck together, turned and slightly smiled to herself as she brought her attention to Arbiddance.

Hern walked off to the side to stifle a grin.

Arbiddance stood up, walked toward the construction site, and began to remove the stopper from the bottle.

O Arbiddance the tragic
Will now use his magic
To build a quaint domicile...

"You're going to want to shut up!" Arbiddance shouted. "This isn't lemonade in here! It's something I can slay you with, so let's pipe down, okay?"

The Prince returned the instrument to the horse's saddle and waited patiently. What he saw next took him an entire week to make into song.

Escape

2009-08-11T15:24:00.000-07:00

"So, would this have been a good time," Qovakrisstia Darkhair questioned the wizard from her huddled position on the icy floor, "to have brought that bottle of yours?"

Arbiddance chuckled as he looked her over for remaining signs of frostbite. "Perhaps, but I really didn't want to take a chance on losing it... so I left it behind. In hindsight, I guess we handled the dragon well enough."

"You handled it," Hern said as he returned to the cave. "Fire and ice... fire and ice..."

Qova was helped to her feet. She checked out all of her joints and decided she was fit to go. The three walked back out into the central cave.

"What makes me hesitate," Arbiddance said as they examined the well shaft both up and down, "are two points. One, once we get to the top, if we're in the right shaft, we'll have to destroy the door to get out... the door that you secured from the other side. New steps will have to be taken. Two: who knows what we'll meet on our ascent, so be ready for anything when we go up."

The wizard stretched out the carpet and stared at it quizzically. "That's two Ak'Kori magical relics we've found in this complex, yet the construction is unmistakably Anayari. Hmm."

Hern re-appeared with two bags filled with coins from the dragon's lair secured to his shoulders. The three kneeled on the carpet and the wizard triggered the magical word. Silently, the carpet rose to about two feet in the air.

"I'm freezing," Qova said. "Make it quick."

Arbiddance mentally guided the carpet over the well shaft. Hern felt a jolt of vertigo that quickly faded and then re-appeared as the carpet slowly ascended the shaft. He had just a few seconds to scrape a mark on the side of the shaft to identify this level for future visits.

Past several levels they went... caves, a tunnel, a wide chasm, a few rooms... one occupied by some very surprised trolls, until they reached the familiar collapsed room. The carpet drifted to the side and settled down on the rubble across the floor.

"We'll use it again to get to the door," Arbiddance said. "But first, how will we get through it?"

"Float us up there, and I'll bash the hinges," Hern replied. "Just be ready for a possible falling door once the hinges are loose."

In the process, the door did not fall, being tied to the opposite wall, but the fighter was able to pry the door out enough to give them exit.

Returned to their lair... Hern started a fire and the three collapsed around it.

By Demand...

2009-08-07T14:07:00.000-07:00

Here is the first of a series of maps for this story. This map shows the area explored under Breakharrow Hill by the three. Read back through the posts and see if you can determine what happened where.

The next map I post will detail the ice caves after I've written some more about them.

Ascent?

2009-08-05T20:21:00.000-07:00

Arbiddance had to check for himself that the dragon was dead... not that he didn't take Hern's word, but that one could never be too careful with dragons. Satisfied, he crawled over the corpse and entered its lair.

It was hard to focus with ice covering most things, but Arbiddance walked around to take stock of the cave's contents... hoping something here might solve the predicament they were in.

In the middle of the room was a mound of coins of various kinds. The mound was studded with gems and assorted silverware... so typical of a dragon... and it was a lot. He kicked around and found a few vials; from the labelling, he thought one or two might heal. Assorted urns lined the back wall. He checked out the contents of each: oil, coins, more coins, cremains, a carpet, some scrolls...

A carpet?

Praying against the odds, Arbiddance pulled the carpet out of its container and spread it out. He spoke a few arcane words over it, and it glowed with a dim light.

"Okay," he muttered. "You're magical in nature. You either fly or you stay really clean."

A thorough search of the carpet's edges revealed a tiny phrase... written in Ak'Kori sewn into the threads near the tassels. Arbiddance smiled.

In The Tunnels of Ice

2009-08-05T19:08:00.000-07:00

The three stood perfectly still as they listened to the abrasive noise coming from one tunnel. For almost a minute, the scraping and vibrating echoes assaulted their ears as it grew louder.

At last, through the gloom, Arbiddance saw the head of something large and shouted "RUN!"

Qova and Hern didn't argue, but followed the wizard as he quickly ran toward another tunnel. Qova turned her head just enough to see the rest of the beast emerging from into the cave.

A white dragon.

She increased her pace, slipped a little on the ice and turned around in time to center a stalagtite.

Hern head the blow and turn to see her sprawled on the ice with blood flowing from her nose. He ground to a stop and shouted "Wizard!"

Arbiddance had already stopped as well and stepped back the way he came. Hern was backtracking to grab Qova, and the wizard intended to provide covering fire.

As he began to think of the spell he would cast, he saw the dragon's mouth open.

Hern crouched to pick the slight woman up, his eyes glued on the dragon as it released a blast of icy cold. The blizzard of ice and cold wind knocked the wind out of the fighter, and he felt his skin crack under the assault.

He looked down. Qova was white with ice; even the blood on her face was frozen solid. He stumbled to his feet, fell, and rose again to begin dragging her toward the nearest tunnel. As he began moving, he felt a sudden blast of heat pass by him.

The wizard's outstretched hands had erupted into a strange flame, coalesced into a small ball of fire which sped away from him and grew larger as it traveled. By the time it reached the dragon, it had grown into a magnificent fireball which tore into the icedrake and drew a sickening howl.

The two men fled with their wounded cargo.

The tunnel they entered crawled up at a difficult slant for several yards until it emptied into a small cave only slightly warmer than the one they fled. They gently placed her down on the floor and sat down themselves. There was no exit.

Arbiddance checked Qova for signs of life and was delighted to find a steady pulse. He smoothed some of the ice from her face and mouth so she could breathe better. "Huddle against her," he told Herne. "Your body heat does you no good in temperatures like this, but will do wonders for her, as will her heat for us."

The two men leaned her against a wall and bundled up against her. "We're not dressed for this," Hern said. "It's a matter of time before we either freeze or be forced to go back... and we've no idea where we are."

"Well," Arbiddance replied. "I was going to mention it before our friend arrived. In the corner of that cave, I saw a large hole in the ceiling right over a large hole in the floor. Sound familiar?"

"You think..." Hern trailed off. "Well, we have rope, but I'm not sure how we're going to get up that hole."

"We'll think of something," Arbiddance said. "We usually do."

They listened for sounds of pursuit, but Hern guessed the tunnel was too small for the dragon to follow them. After a short time of hearing it bellow, it became quiet.

"I'm going to scout," Hern said. "Stay here." Arbiddance didn't argue.

The fighter crept down the sloping tunnel as quietly as he could. His joints and skin ached from the dragon's breath, making it hard for him to move with the usual dexterity he enjoyed. After a few minutes, he reached the cave and peered in.

There was no sign of the dragon. Hern looked off the the right and saw what Arbiddance was talking about. A large well, roughly the size of the one in the collapsing room, was in the floor with a corresponding hole directly above.

Hern moved further into the room, looked to his left, and froze in fear. The dragon, scorched and burned, was in the tunnel from which it came, snorting heavily and staring at him. Hern fought the urge to run; some warrior's instinct told him he was not in danger.

He wasn't. The dragon was blind... it's pupils burned away. It was dying and could barely muster a twitch as Hern crept closer.

He stood to one side of the dragon's head in order to avoid any last gasps of breath, and plunged his sword into the creature's skull. It jumped once, grunted, thrashed for a few seconds, and became still.

If it has a mate, Hern thought, I'm in trouble. Of course, if it had a mate, it would have come by now.

Hern, his curiousity (and greed) stimulated, climbed over the dragon and ventured down the tunnel from which it came. After a short stretch, it opened into a large cavern. Hern looked around the cavern, his eyes wide.

After some time, he returned to his companions. Arbiddance looked up at the fighter, who said "we're rich."

"How rich?" the wizard asked.

"Go and see for yourself," the fighter replied, and took his place by Qova.

2009-08-04T17:26:00.001-07:00

Posting will be suspended for just two or three days. The rain has let up and I'm trying to get things done outside that are sorely neglected as well as look after my elderly father. Doomwatch will continue after I'm caught up with real life stuff. Stay tuned!

Behind Door #3

2009-08-01T17:57:00.000-07:00

When Hern had originally peered past the open door and saw only blackness... several days ago... he thought it was due to a vast area beyond.

The three stood in a room that probably measured ten feet by ten feet... it was hard to tell for the eternal darkness in this space. Even their amulets shed light no more than a few inches. A careful checking of the walls revealed two doors here: one to the left, and one to the right, with a blank wall ahead. It was hard to spot a secret door in the pitch black, and none of them found anything unusual on the bare wall.

The door to the left they tried first. Its rusted handle refused to budge until Hern applied the shoulder. The handle mechanism itself gave way and separated from the door itself. Beyond lay the gloom of another unexplored chamber.

A short passage gave way to a small room... no more than twenty feet square. They heavily searched here, with the only results being curious scratches covering the walls from floor to ceiling.

The other door was more productive. Giving easily to a good jolt, the adventurers found a short passage way leading to a larger chamber. Sconces lined the walls here, and as they stepped in, torches lept to life and illuminated the way.

"Well, would you look at that," Arbiddance said as he examined one torch. He scratched it, sniffed his nails, and said "it's wood. Interesting."

Hern focused in on the exiting passage on the far end and to the left. From somewhere in that direction could be heard the distant sound of running water.

Qova had stopped to look at the walls. What at first appeared to be intricate decorations were, she noticed, really writing. Lots of it.

"Anayari," she whispered, and began to trace some of the minute glyphs.

"Can you read it?" Hern asked her.

"To a point," she replied. "I think we're looking at a history... that's how it reads. It would take weeks to decipher all of this and get just a rudimentary understanding of what it means. We'd need an expert."

"My Anayari is probably no better than yours," Arbiddance added. "Here's something for us to do on those rainy days." He smiled at his own joke and looked toward the other passage. "Let's find that water."

The three moved to the other end of the room and peered down the hall. In the shadows made by the torches, it seemed to split not far away.

They advanced forward... ten feet, twenty... and came to a fork. One hall led left and seemed to have doors; the other took an oblique angle off to the right out of sight but at a downward slope. It was from there the sound of water came.

They followed the slope down and came into a reasonably large room. In the center stood a large fountain filled with water and producing more. The statue in the fountain resembled a fish with human legs... its head angled upward to constantly vomit more water.

In the light of their amulets, Arbiddance noticed that the water had a silvery sheen at times, but not all the time. He dipped a finger in, pulled it out, and tasted.

"Fresh... and cold." He put his hand in and splashed the water a little... mainly just to see what would happen.

Hern walked around the fountain and pointed at the base of the statue. "Runes."

The wizard stepped back and began to circle as well... peering at the inscriptions.

"Ah! These I can read," he smiled. "Garden variety Anayari with no linguistic tricks whatsoever."

Qova joined him in examining the runes. As she looked, she noticed that the water in the fountain was beginning to churn. Her head whipped around to stare at Arbiddance as if he were an idiot, and she screamed "RUN!"

Hern wasted no time bolting for the door, but was not quick enough to avoid the sudden surge of foamy water that washed over all three of them.

To the adventurers, it was as if reality itself was too slippery to hold onto... or perhaps it was the other way around. They felt themselves slide to one side as if on ice, through the wall with a sudden blinding speed but none of the obvious pain that comes from a fast contact with stone. They were no longer solid as they whipped through rooms and downwards through floors for what seemed to be hours until...

They stopped... skidded and fell on their rears. It was cold and dark until they could focus their amulets. A large icy cave was their final destination. The water on their clothing begane to freeze, and their breath came out in clouds.

Hern turned to Qova. "What did the runes say?"

The raven-haired woman rubbed her backside as she stood up. "They said 'VISITORS ARE NOT WELCOME.' "

Somewhere in the darkness, a strange crack echoed throughout the caverns. Through the gloom, Arbiddance thought he could see tunnels leading off in various directions. From one tunnel, the three heard a loud, vibrating sound that could only come from something alive.

And big.

The Form In The Smoke

2009-07-30T20:45:00.000-07:00

Author's note: I almost forgot about this today... been a little distracted. Must do better.

Arbiddance sat at the table and contemplated ripping the seal off of the bottle. Of course, he was schooled to avoid such rash decisions; sigils must be translated and weighed against his admittedly scarce knowledge of otherworldly beings such as the one he suspected was inside.

So he sat, with his head resting on one fist, and turned the bottle slowly... allowing the engravings to soak in. Qova sat at the other end of the table and patiently watched him.

Hern was busy transforming the campfire into a round fireplace in the center of the room. He had recently brought in a hearty supply of Mistwood... long on heat but short on smoke... to replace the oak they had been using. Now he cemented stones together to form a large circular fireplace that would serve their purposes.

He stopped and gazed at his companions... one entranced by a piece of art and the other fixated on the observer. After placing a stone, he stood up, dusted his hands, and approached the table.

"So, when will you open it?" he asked the wizard.

"Patience, my friend," Arbiddance paused to push back a lock of his long hair. "Whatever's inside, we can't rush into this." He straightened up in the chair. "I strongly suspect this is a Brareq ha-Abadani."

"A what?" Qova spoke up.

"It's Ak'Kori... roughly translated, it means 'Abode of the Cunning' and that should be enough to give you pause. It does for me," Arbiddance turned the bottle upside down for the fourth time. "If it is, then it contains a powerful and dangerous tool... an ef'fretah. Know anything about them?"

"No," Hern replied.

"Sounds like an exotic dish," Qova retorted.

"It's a being from another place of existence," Arbiddance went on. "A powerful servant bound to the possessor of this bottle... the ef'fretah serves its master to the letter, but constantly seeks a method of escaping its servitude.

"On the other hand," he sighed, "supposedly these things are egotistical as hell... play them right, and you've a strong ally. In any case, the servitude lasts only a year and a day... so you sort of want to be nice to something that will escape one day and remember how it was treated."

"So, best to keep it in there until we really need it, right?" Qova asked. "It sounds much too dangerous to let loose, in my opinion."

"That's a good idea, except that it could do us some great good in here. For instance, looking forward to lugging that lumber around and building the house? This creature could do it in minutes... if I'm right," Arbiddance scratched his face and looked at her. "If I'm right."

"Have you read the sigils?" Hern asked. "Around the seal... what do they say?"

" 'I AM THE GREAT SERVANT K'ALI AQA' it says," the wizard replied. "Guessing that's the name of the occupant." He rose. "What the hell, ready to try it?"

"Now?!" Qova shouted. "Five minutes ago you were preaching patience. Why now?"

"Five minutes ago, I was five minutes younger," he smiled. "Don't question my ways."

"Okay, fine," Hern said. "Where will we do this and how?"

"Right here and very diplomatically," Arbiddance said, and took the bottle to the far end of the room. He sat it down on the floor, drew his dagger, and cut open the seal.

Nothing happened. He turned at looked at his comrades, and then removed the stopper.

Nothing was still happening... at first... and then a thin stream of smoke began to issue from its depths, growing larger and darker until it became a cloud with a vague humanoid form. It's "head" looked to each side until it settled on Arbiddance.

Who summons K'ali Aqa? A voice like hurricane winds ripping through trees vibrated in their ears. Who dares to disturb his sleep?

"I dare, gret Ka'ali Aga," the wizard replied. "I am Arbiddance of Ydric, and it is I who unsealed your prison. By the plutonian names of Qeshic, Aqasha and Vien-Roor, I command you now to take a form that is pleasing to my eyes."

The form in the smoke quivered with each eldritch name spoken, and slowly coalesced into the gigantic form of a dusky skinned girl. Is this form more to your liking, great Arbiddance of Ydric? The voice changed to that a female even as it spoke.

"It is," Arbiddance replied. "Now, I ask of you, great K'ali Aqa, to tell me how you came to be in that bottle, and I ask you to tell me truthfully whether or not you are ef'fretah."

I am ef'fretah, the form replied. I was the guardian to the gates of the fifth tower of Melek-Taus until that tower was toppled.

Oh, shit, Arbiddance thought, but tried not to let his shock show in his face.

I was bound to the bottle by the greatest wizard of that conquering army and cast among his belongings until he forgot about me. Since then I have languished in this bottle. A spark of... madness?... flashed for a second in her deep eyes.

"K'ali Aqa," Arbiddance replied, "I have opened the door to your prison and, by the ancient laws, you must serve me for a year and a day. After that time, I will destroy your bottle and allow you to go free. I swear this by the twelve faces of Abaoth the Merciful."

I know of Abaoth, and I know that you would be a fool to swear to his name falsely, wizard, the form replied, thus I trust you to keep your agreement with me.

"Then return to your abode, K'ali Aqa," Arbiddance tried to hide the relief from his voice, "I will replace the stopper, but I will not seal it. Know that I will call on you again for your daily task in the morning."

The form returned to smoke and descended into the bottle. Arbiddance gingerly replaced the stopper and picked the bottle up, turned to his friends, and smiled.

"Tomorrow, we build a house," he said.

"Is that thing really safe?" Qova asked.

"Those were the biggest breasts I've ever seen," Hern laughed.

Negotiations

2009-07-28T11:36:00.000-07:00

It was agreed. A bribe of only 25 gold pieces per season was enough to buy the silence of the militia boys. Arbiddance had made it abundantly clear, after money had changed hands, what the penalty for double-crossing him would be, and there was no argument.

The land in question belonged to Falang, the local baron, who often used it to graze his cattle and for occasional pheasant hunting. His place of residence was not far away.

"You can tell a lot about a person based on his choice in art," Qova said as she stared at the tapestry. The art in question depicted peasants being hanged while their families looked on in sorrow. An odd little chubby person occupied the lower right corner of the tapestry and looked at the viewer with a grin of sadistic glee. "This piece, for example, suggests that there's a reasonable chance we may have to fight our way out of the house if the Baron is in a foul mood today."

"Now, be nice," Arbiddance chuckled from his comfortable chair. "His art may speak volumes, but the state of things in this manor suggests that the Baron may be slightly strapped for cash. That's a good thing."

Hern gazed out the window across the fields and said nothing while he watched the cattle grazing. Having the best hearing, he heard the footsteps coming down the hall before the others did, and turned to face the doorway as it opened.

Arwick, the 7th Baron Falang, quietly slipped through the doorway and closed the door behind him. He was a slight man with the manners of a rabbit, and men such as that made Hern uneasy. The Baron stepped foward to Hern with his hand out.

"I'm so sorry to have kept you waiting," the noble said. Introductions were made, and he added "I understand there's a question of some property you wish to purchase." He spoke with the quiet voice of the lectern, as if speaking to human anatomy students with morning hangovers. Or a gravedigger, Hern thought.

Arbiddance was slightly shocked that the nub of the matter was reached so quickly... perhaps his suspicions were correct. "Yes, M'Lord. This small area here surrounding the Breakharrow Hill." He produced a map he had drawn complete with measurements. "We simply love the place and want to build a house there."

Qova stifled a giggle at that line, but remained silent.

"I see, I see," the Baron murmured. He poured over the map from several angles, as if the decision would affect the outcome of future generations. "Well, the land itself is used for cattle and game... nothing major there... except for the underground entrance, of course."

The three adventurers froze for a second. Arbiddance broke the silence with a clearing of his voice. "You know of that?"

The Baron looked at the wizard with a frustrated expression. "Please. I grew up here. So, if you want that particular area, it will cost you."

"If M'Lord knew of the place, why has he not sacked it," Hern asked.

"One of my ancestors was slaughtered down there," the Baron quietly replied. " Body never found.We've made a point of avoiding the place... sleeping dogs and all that. Who do you think had bushes planted over the entrance. Besides, it's an open secret."

He sat down in a chair and smiled. "Let me guess: you thought to buy the land, build a house there with a secret entrance, and sack the place as you please. Am I right?"

The three looked around. Qova nodded her head.

"And not a bad plan it is. Except that I own it, and whatever comes out of it belongs to me," he leaned back in the chair and crossed his legs.

"Ahhh... begging the Baron's pardon," Arbiddance interjected. "That's technically not true. Technically, whatever is under there belongs to the Duke... your liege lord. If it's an open secret, as you say, then why is the place not guarded by soldiers of the Naej? Every entrance to Doomwatch is jealously guarded."

"Well, technically, no one's sure if it leads to Doomwatch," the Baron countered. "And technically, the Duke knows nothing of it. The locals know that who ever talks will be turned out to fend for themselves. I run a nice little barony here... no problems and no attention from Talos other than the usual patrols."

"Perhaps," Hern broke in. "we can strike a bargain here that's good for everyone involved." The Baron shifted in his chair to better hear the fighter. "Go on."

"Here's a proposal: suppose you allow me to build a house there on that spot. I swear allegiance to you and help serve in defense of your barony. My friends do the same. We quietly go about our business, and guarantee to pay you a seasonal tax of... say... 250 gold. That's guaranteed, or you boot us off the land legally. That's an income for you of one thousand gold per year, off the books, and incentive for us to delve to our hearts' desire. And occasionally, we throw you a bone."

"In any case," Qova spoke up, "we've brought a couple of pieces we found in our last expedition... as gifts for M'Lord," she lifted a bag and produced two art pieces from the hall of gargoyles. "We're sure the Baron knows more about art and who would want it more than we would know."

The Baron stood and walked over to the window. He pondered Hern's offer for a few minutes, turned, and simply said "done."

With a fresh charter in hand, the three left the manor and mounted their horses. Arbiddance muttered "like taking candy from a baby" as they started back toward Breakharrow Hill.

Playing House

2009-07-27T16:30:00.000-07:00

With the ministrations of Qova, Hern was much better the next morning. With his return to the table, the three began to put their plans into motion.

A thorough search of this section revealed only one obvious way in: the original door. Hern set to work securing it with a bar on the inside. As they would leave, Arbiddance would Wizard Lock it so that no one else could force their way in, even if they did know the locking mechanism in the arch.

The secret door in the hall of gargoyles unnerved them. Even with a hard search, none of them could find the mechanism that opened it. Finally, Arbiddance concluded that it probably could only be opened from the other side.

"Which puts us at the mercy of whatever's on the other side, if anything," he mused. "At best, we can pile up the rubble from the pillars in front of it; if it opens into the hallway, then it's blocked... if it opens the other way... then we'll at least slow down whatever comes through it." They would leave the door into this hallway open and count on the draft of smoke from their campfire to alert them to any changes in air pressure due to opened doors.

The bodies of the goblins, gargoyles and worgs had been dragged and dumped into the room with the collapsed floor. Hern had tied off the door to a spike in the opposite wall... easy to unhitch from their side, but next to impossible to force from the other side.

This left the inventory of the goblin treasure room. They concluded, due to the age of some of the items, that in all probablity the goblins had found this room and its contents and simply added to it. After an hour or so of carefully pouring through the stuff, Arbiddance had this list:

-4,330 gold coins... at least half of it minted during the reign of King Gorthis the Halfhauser.
-2,900 silver coins... with the same age category.
-20 bolts of cloth in various stages of worth and condition. Most was usable.
-12 shortbows (unstrung) and 200 arrows.
-an entire suit of plate mail armor.
-an oil portrait of someone's really ugly female relative.
-a large iron pot that would serve amazingly well as a gong.
-a motley collection of male and female clothing of various sizes and conditions.
-a bundle of 50 torches

Then there was the question of the locked chest. Since none of the dead goblins had a key on their persons, and since the chances of the one single goblin that escaped having that key were slim, the trio concluded that it had predated the past occupants. Hern smashed the lock, and Arbiddance slowly lifted the lid.

The three looked down, and saw within a small brass bottle, covered with arcane sigils, stoppered and wax sealed. Arbiddance smiled at the sight.

The Goblin Treasure

2009-07-26T15:08:00.000-07:00

The gripping adventures in real estate will have to wait until another time, as our three heroes have elected to return to Breakharrow and investigate further what lies beneath...

"Should we close it?" Qova asked as the comrades stood in the small room and pondered the three doors. The right door still stood open after it was opened by Qova a couple of days ago. The left door leading to the goblin den was spiked shut by Hern before they had left, and the central door had no visible means of entrance.

"We can always open it again," Arbiddance replied, "so best to close it now while we go back in here."

Hern stepped forward and pulled the door shut; an odd click echoed.

"Okay," he said. "Let's search out the rest of those rooms."

They entered the goblin den and were greeted by the stench of the dead creatures piled in the corner. Qova pointed and said "that will have to go before I live in here."

"We can throw them in the room with the collapsed floor," Hern replied. "Which reminds me: we'll have to seal that door due to the well in there. Don't know where it leads, but anything could come up that way."

The room in which they stood had six doors: the entrance, the door leading to the hall of gargoyles, two doors on the left which Hern had investigated before with no results (one was empty and the other served as a trash room/latrine for the goblins), and two to the right. The opted for the left of those remaining two.

Hern checked that his friends were ready and pushed open the door.

A large L-shaped room was beyond. Goblin tracks cut through the dust. Hern stepped forward and looked around the bend. "Nothing," he said with a slight disappointed tone. "No doors, so nice and secure."

"No doors that you see," Arbiddance countered. "All of these rooms will have to be thoroughly searched for secret doors. We need to know about things like that."

They retired to try the other door. Beyond was a small, oddly shaped room... empty except for goblin tracks in the dust which seemed to lead to the opposite wall and stopped. The three looked at each other in amusement and examined the wall.

After a few minutes, Arbiddance exclaimed "Oh my goodness! There's a secret door here! Who would have ever imagined one of those in here!" He pressed a small loose stone, and a section of the wall hinged back on itself to reveal a room beyond.

Qova went to the door and shined her light inside. "Never underestimate the stupidity of a goblin," she smirked, and was quickly attacked.

The large creature struck from the darkness and easily bowled over the slight woman. Qova screamed and struggled to keep large jaws from reaching her throat, but it was obvious she wouldn't last long.

Hern, momentarily stunned, brought his sword down on the spine of the creature with little effect. The wolflike beast paid little attention as it tried to bite Qova's face off. It's bloody foul breath made her gag as she tried to squirm out from under her attacker.

Hern repositioned himself for a thrust into the side of the beast when he saw another emerge from the shadows. He followed through on his thrust and was satisfied with the creature's howl of pain. The wounded beast crawled off of Qova and staggered toward the fighter.

Arbiddance also saw the second beast emerge through the doorway. He drew his wand and began to point it toward the new target as the creature bolted forward. The wizard had just enough time to step aside and miss the attack. The second creature quickly turned to try again.

Qova rolled onto her knees, chanted a few words and pointed toward the beast. A brilliant sphere of light appeared over its face, and the beast staggered as it tried to adjust.

Hern warded off his opponent at swordpoint; he slowly backed up, hoping the creature would give him a good opening. It shivered and stalked toward the fighter, and Hern could see the life slowly draining out of its eyes.

Suddenly, it lunged foward in one final attack, its jaws sinking into Hern's abdomen despite the man's attempt at a parry. He held each end of his sword and brought it down on the creature's neck in one hard chop. A satisfying snap echoed as the beast's neck broke, and it fell limp to the floor.

The second creature thrashed its head from side to side, trying to free itself from the light that now blinded it. It also attempted to sniff out its prety, but was thwarted as Qova and Arbiddance spread out from their opponent at oblique angles. Arbiddance pointed his wand, mumbled "Gezzlethin" and watched the cone of ice leap out and envelope the beast. It writhed in the extreme cold unleashed on its hide, and as it stumbled, Qova snapped its neck with a strong blow from her mace.

Both turned to look at Hern, who was seated next to the wall and propped on his sword with one hand clutching his torn-open stomach. The fighter looked up at them, and quietly laughed.

Arbiddance eased into the secret room with light amulet in one hand and wand in the other. As he scanned the room and its contents, he grinned and moved further in to take stock.

Either the goblins had an extended range for their raids, or someone hasn't reported a lot of stuff stolen, he thought to himself. He looked around and counted no less than ten large boxes, perhaps half a dozen chests, a score of bolts of fine fabrics, and a small chest with a padlock on it. He felt Qova quietly come in behind him.

"That's... a lot of stuff," she said quietly.

"Yes it is."

"Do you have any more healing potions?" she whispered. "I used my last one on Hern, plus all the healing magic I have, and he's still not well. That worg came within a hair of killing him."

Arbiddance turned to face her. "Yeah, one more." He pulled it out of his side pouch and handed it over. "A lot of blood?"

"Right now, until he gets a little better, we don't dare move him too far... not even out on the road. One good sword thrust could take him out and... well, with patrols out..." she didn't finish the thought.

"Okay," the wizard replied. "The outside room here is defensible. Let's bring him in and let's just camp out here until things look up a little."

They assisted the fighter in moving into the interior room and put him on a comfortable bed made from the cloth found in the secret chamber. Hern joked that it was the finest bed he had ever slept on, and promptly went to sleep. Qova counted the hours until her morning prayers and closed the door on the dead worgs.

An Interim Glossary

2009-07-23T16:58:00.000-07:00

Several terms have been used over the last few episodes which need explanation and will enrich the reader's experience.

Alpine Throne: the ruling seat of the Northern Kingdom. Presently kept warm by Rathof IV (until someone more inspiring to the clans comes along).

Anayari: pertaining to the culture of Anayar, the kingdom of the grey nobles who once ruled the area surrounding the Sea of Tombs and beyond. The Anayari display considerable talents in the areas of art and music, but alas, not war. Their kingdom was shattered by the clans who came from the north and carved their own territories around the Sea.

Balesire: the 5th Duke of Talons. Ruler of The Naej.

Black Sun: the dreaded astronomical phenomenon seen on a complicated schedule. The Black Sun rises from the south and travels north over Shiaar during its time (which is slightly less than one full day). Under its influence, wizards will find their magic at its highest peak, and other events both baleful and strange occur during this time.

Kalmyr: the great ice-locked city to the north. Hern hails from here.

Marchtongue: the commonly spoken dialect used in the March area. A mixture of many tongues with Anayari in dominance.

Naej, The: one of the duchies on the western banks of the Sea of Tombs. Ruled by the Duke of Talons.

Nerve Weaver: the otherworldly ruler of Veronic in the Onrothy.

Onrothy, The: the eastern most duchy around the Sea of Tombs. Basically a bandit realm with a few walled cities.

Overking: the ruler of the Northern Kingdom and the occupant of the Alpine Throne.

Raban: the largest city in the Onrothy.

Sea of Tombs: the large body of eerie water in the Raven March. Hundreds of ancient tombs lie beneath the water line and quite a few above it. A popular resort with adventurers and pirates.

Talos: the capitol city of the Naej and the ruling seat for Balesire, the Duke of Talons.

Veronic: the great walled city in the south of the Onrothy. The greatest and most dangerous magicians in the March are to be found here, and... if you dabble in magic... this is the place to be during the Black Sun.

West Forest: the great forest west of Talos. The site of Doomwatch; other that, not a dangerous place since it is heavily patrolled by the soldiers of the Naej.

Ydric, Duchy of: the decadant duchy to the northwest of the Sea of Tombs.

The Collusion

2009-07-22T15:54:00.000-07:00

If we could get high enough to look through the second story windows of the Lost Swan, we would find our three adventurers sitting around the hearth of one room... Arbiddance's room... surveying the loot taken the previous day. All three were still splattered with the mud created from last night's rain and their cautious trek back to the little inn. The wizard seemed absorbed in the ornate dagger.

The rain still spattered against the window glass as the three silently sat and contemplated...

"How are we going to unload all of this?" Hern asked the magic question. "There's no way we'll get the real value of these items from any traveling merchant in this area. I don't fancy dragging it all the way back to Talos... where the only decent antiques dealers are in the whole Duchy... and trying to get this load past the gate guards."

"What are the guards going to do? Grab an item each, take it home and put it on the shelf next to all of their other precious antiques?" Qova smirked. "Or hock it for tavern money? No dog on those gates could begin to guess the real worth of any of these items."

"I have a suggestion," Arbiddance mumbled.

"Sometimes, finding stuff like this is more trouble than it's worth," Hern interjected. "I'd rather find coins or gems... stuff you can easily unload... or even useful items like weapons. Or magic. I grew up in a house full of antiques, and I was never comfortable around them. They sit there on the shelves, looking at you, as if thinking 'I'm better than you.' "

Arbiddance cleared his throat and spoke up. "I have a suggestion." The other two turned to him. Qova raised her eyebrows to urge him on.

"Let's take them back."

Hern wasn't sure he heard the comment correctly. "Say again?"

"Take them back. Look, obviously we'll be here for a long time, if we take the right approach to all this, and even if we don't, we need a base around here. This inn is fine, but if we keep dragging bags of stuff back here, someone's going to start talking, and talking leads to the Duke's men coming by for a visit. Can't have that."

"Ok, so... what?" Qova asked.

"Here's what we should do," Arbiddance lounged further into the large chair he occupied. "Let's take one or two good items and sell them to the next merchant, right? Get some seed money, and let's buy some supplies... and let's occupy the ruins for ourselves."

Hern twisted in his chair, his attention glued on the wizard.

"We'll take steps to make the entrance a little harder to find," Arbiddance continued. "Clear it out some more to our satisfaction, and then secure an area... I know how... and leave all important items we find there. In the meantime, we'll buy the land from who ever owns it, build a nice little house right in front of the hill, right over the entrance, and explore it at our leisure."

"A house built into the side of a hill is not uncommon in this area," Hern mused. "It wouldn't stand out too much."

"Exactly," Arbiddance. "Hide in plain sight."

"What about the boys who found the entrance," Qova asked. "Build a house right there, and they'll put two and two together."

"We could pay them off," Arbiddance suggested.

"Bribes sometimes get out of control," countered Hern.

"No, we can pay them off, and well," Arbiddance said. "But we'd have to make it clear that they'll have to keep it shut from now on, or I just might shape change the offending party into a dog, and he can spend the rest of his life licking his own balls." Arbiddance never took his eyes off the dagger in his fingertips while he spoke.

"Okay, so Joe the woodcutter suddenly has a lot of money, and can't tell anyone where it came from... see the problem there?" Qova waved into the air.

"I see his problem," Hern grinned. "He doesn't make it ours or woof-woof."

"So, it's agreed then?" Arbiddance looked up at his companions. Both said yes and began to repack the precious items into the bag. Arbiddance smoothly slid the dagger underneath his robe, and neither Qova nor Hern bothered to ask him why.

"Now," Arbiddance rose and walked toward the door. "Let's find out... very casually... who owns that property."

The Hall of Gargoyles

2009-07-21T15:21:00.000-07:00

By the time Qova had healed Arbiddance and Hern of their wounds, the goblin had regained mobility and found itself securely bound and gagged. It's beady eyes drilled holes into her and Qova stood and patiently surveyed her defeated opponent.

Hern had begun opening doors in this room, and had surveyed two when Arbiddance stopped him. "There's no telling what's beyond any of them; let's not release anything on top of us just this yet, yes?" The fighter reluctantly agreed and took his place behind the captive.

"Ready?" he asked Qova. She nodded, and Hern pulled his boot dagger out to cut the gag. The creature spit out the taste of rag and slowly looked around.

Do you understand me? Qova growled, hissed and gargled. The goblin squirmed at the harsh question and looked off to the left. Hern thrust the dagger under the goblin's chin and led the head back into position.

Do you understand me? Qova repeated. The goblin nodded.

Good, Qova replied. I want to make certain you understand my every word lest my friend behind you be forced to pick flowers.

The goblin looked at her quizzically and replied I bargain for my life.

"Now we understand each other," she murmured in the Marchtongue. "What should we ask first?"

Arbiddance said "Ask it how far into this rooms the goblins have explored." Qova snapped her fingers and smilingly pointed to the wizard.

How much of this place have your kind kindled and trod? The goblin started to smirk, but realized it was in no position to play games.

Just these rooms and doors. There is nothing here for you to take.

"Bull," Hern replied when Qova translated. "These little bastards have been raiding through here for quite a while. Ask it where their treasure is hidden."

Qova relayed the question. The goblin shrugged and replied, not much to take. Gains are slim here. What we have is beyond that door. It nodded toward the sole door on one wall. Beyond is hallway. On the end of hallway is a door and past that is all we have. I offer this bargain for my pitiful life.

"There'd better be something good in there," Hern replied after the translation.

"All we have," the goblin suddenly babbled in Marchtongue. "Take it and let this one go."

"Oh no," Qova replied, hefting the goblin onto its feet and thrusting it toward the door. "You're coming with us first and then we'll see."

The trio and their prisoner moved toward the door. Hern carefully opened it (it was one he had not opened before) and stepped back to see what was beyond.

What was beyond was a hallway, perhaps twenty feet wide and extending perpendicular to the room they were now in. Hern took the lead, with Qova and the goblin following, and Arbiddance taking the rear. They came into the middle of the hallway, with it extending roughly forty feet to their left and their right. At intervals on each side stood a large stone column about an inch or so from the wall. Each column was intricately carved with leering faces and forms so that it appeared as a mass of figures twisted and stacked upwards like thick ivy. Each was topped with a grotesque head. To their left, at the end of the hall, there was a door across the way. The goblin pointed to it, and they moved.

Not far into the hallway, Hern stumbled across the remains of what might have been a goblin. Now only a few bones and a stripped torso, it smelled to heaven. Qova wrinkled her nose and stepped around it as they continued on.

Arbiddance studied the columns, counted ten, and wondered where he had seen something like this before. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up.

As he began to speak, the top of each column erupted and changed shape into a terrible winged creature; the trio found themselves surrounded and under attack as the creatures descended with mouth open and talons extended.

"Gargoyles!" shouted Hern. Qova froze in terror and Arbiddance reached under his robes for something.

The goblin saw its chance and, being the smallest thing in this room, ducked under the attacks and made a break for the way back out. It almost made it before a gargoyle swooped down and began to rend it apart. The little creature's death screams echoed down the hallway and then ceased.

Hern's majestic sword began swinging and slashing at the gargoyles in a savage rhythm. At least three were on him, with others waiting for their turn. Arbiddance bellowed "Door! Door! Door!"

Qova ducked under clawed attacks and attempted to shoulder her way through the door. Her slight frame bounced off the thick oak structure, and she rolled down on the floor swinging her mace over her. A lucky swing connected with a gargoyle and sent it spinning back through the air.

Arbiddance stepped over and forced the door. Creaking through ages of non-use, it opened just enough to allow him to drag his comrade through. "Hern!" he shouted as he disappeared, and he hoped like hell something even worse wasn't behind him in the unknown chamber.

The fighter battled his way through the door, and slammed it shut behind him. Through the wood, all three could hear the insane cadence of harden claws raking and scratching plus the screeches of predators denied their meal.

Arbiddance stepped forward with a long rod of wood, motioned to Hern to crack open the door, and thrust the wand out into the hallway. He murmured "Gezzlethin!" and jerked as the wand released its power into the area beyond. Suddenly all became quiet except for a series of thuds and a strange cracking noise. Hern closed the door.

Qova lay on the floor with a bloody nose from her encounter with the door. Amazingly, she and Arbiddance had no serious wounds. Hern's shoulders were a chewed mess even through his armor, but he seemed unfazed. He looked around the empty room.

"I'm going to remember that goblin the next time I see it," he smirked as he wiped his blade, and the floor suddenly collapsed beneath them.

Rock and dust flying around them, the three fell a good distance before striking another floor hard. All three instinctively covered their heads and loose chunks of rock and mortar rained down around them.

"Don't move," Qova choked out through the dust. "Just stay there and try to see what hurts."

"My arm," said Arbiddance.

"My ass," said Hern.

"I think I have a sprained ankle," Qova said. She rose to her feet, and collapsed. "Two sprained ankles."

"Ok, no one panic," Hern said. "Nothing's after us here... yet. So let's take this moment to gather ourselves." He stood up and surveyed the room and the distance they fell. "Fourty feet if it's an inch," he said in a disgusted tone. "How tidy of me to close the door before we fell."

The three huddled together in the light of their amulets. Qova began popping her ankles... slowly at first and then faster until no sound was heard from them. Arbiddance's arm was slashed down the bicep and bloody; he took a healing potion from his pouch and quaffed it down.

As Hern, who didn't admit to being hurt even though Qova healed his shoulders, stalked around the room, he discovered a large hole in an opposite corner from them. Shining his amulet down into it revealed a depth of maybe 100 feet of more and what appeared to be another room below.

"Up or down?" he smiled.

"Up," Arbiddance quickly spoke.

"Oh?" Qova replied. "Didn't get enough up there?"

"Those were gargoyles," he shot back. "Gargoyles are used to guard things. I want to know what they were guarding. Besides, they're no problem now."

"I agree," Hern said. "Now let's figure out how to get back up to that door."

After perhaps half an hour of debate, they stacked as much rubble as they could move under the door. Hern climbed on it, found it reasonably stable, and motioned for Arbiddance to join him. The wizard climbed up Hern and perched on the fighter's shoulders. He motioned for Qova to join them.

Qova, with a coil of rope on her shoulder and Hern's dagger in her belt, shook her head slightly and then climbed onto the rubble. As the other two leaned into the wall to get support, the slight women climbed their backs and sat with her knees on the shoulders of Arbiddance. The wizard wilted slightly under the strain, but spoke. "You're going to have to stand up."

Scraping on the wall for support, she managed to stand up. Their arrangement began to sway slightly, and he noticed she was almost one foot from the door. "Not enough," she called down.

Hern, taking a deep breath, grabbed the wizard's legs and hoisted both of them up as much as he could. Qova reached the door, shoved the dagger into the cracks between the boards, and with a glance down to warn her comrades, jerked as hard as she could.

The door swung open easily with no floor to drag on, and the other two found themselves tumbling backwards off the rubble pile, with Qova swinging on the door and holding on to the dagger for dear life.

"Swing!" Hern shouted, and Qova arched her body to force the door back toward its original position. As it did so, she caught the door frame and hauled herself back into the hallway. A split second of hesitation made her freeze as she remembered the gargoyles. She looked around and saw them all on the floor dead with a thin coat of frost rapidly evaporating.

Tying the rope around the nearest column, she dropped the rest of it to her companions.

"What's so important here that it needed ten gargoyles?" Arbiddance mused aloud. Hern was happy to retrieve his favorite dagger, and Qova was coiling the rope.

The wizard stalked up and down the hallway, examining each square foot. At last he stopped at a section next to the doorway from which they just emerged. He traced on the wall with his finger, and grinned.

"A secret door here," he said to the others. "Damned if I can see how to trigger it though."

"Perhaps one of the columns?" Qova asked. She casually looked the nearest one over. She rapped it with her mace and her eyebrows raised. "It's hollow."

Arbiddance frowned at her and came over. "No kidding," she said. "It's hollow."

Hern rapped on another column. "This one too." They checked the other eight columns and found the same thing.

Hern took Qova's mace and hefted it. "Get ready," he grimaced, and swung hard into a column. The structure collapsed after four blows, and the rubble covered a large leather pouch. Qova grabbed up the pouch, opened it, and pulled out an ornate chalice of remarkable workmanship.

Arbiddance softly whistled, and looked at the other columns.

Hern went to work on the other pillars, thankful they didn't support the ceiling here. After almost an hour of hard bashing, the trio had collected fifteen pieces of ornate treasures of different kinds: chalices, statues, and other objects including a ceremonial dagger that was so delicate it couldn't possibly be used in battle. All told, Qova filled a large sack with their discoveries.

"I think it's time we found a warm hearth, and counted our...um... blessings," Arbiddance smiled.

We Interrupt This Program...

2009-07-20T20:00:00.000-07:00

I'm sorry nothing was posted today; I've been VERY busy. The story of the Breakharrow expedition will continue sometime tomorrow. Thanks for reading!

Where Our Heroes Meet The Breakharrow Boys

2009-07-18T15:57:00.002-07:00

Hern wasted no time nor words, but charged into the room. Halfway across this area were at least eight goblins with swords at the ready. Arbiddance stepped in and quickly assessed his targets.

Qovakrisstia stepped in the room to the right of Hern and saw what the other two did not: a goblin shaman in the beginnings of a spell. She raised her staff into the air as if drawing applause from above and brought it down on the floor in a sharp crack while uttering something which sounded as if she were coughing up a really large hairball. The shaman stumbled for a minute and then froze.

Hern bulled up to the goblins, his sword already in full swing and he neatly severed one creature while bashing another with his shield. Bloody with the remains of his first victim, he reversed his arm to strike at another.

Arbiddance stopped well away from sword range, muttered an incantation and pointed toward the goblins while three blazing missiles streaked out of his fingers. One goblin fell with his face smashed in and on fire; another took a blow directly to the chest and dropped, and a third was struck but remained standing. The wizard grinned with satisfaction at his work, and then grunted as an arrow slammed into his back.

Hern whirled in place and brought his sword up with such force into a moving goblin that the little creature flew upwards and into the far wall only to slide down and crumple to the floor. The two remaining goblins sliced into him; the sword of one did not penetrate his armor, while the other cut a serious gash into the fighter's left leg. Hern stopped, swiveled his arm in his shield strap, and brought the shield crashing down on the head of the goblin who had drawn his blood. The creature's spine shattered from the blow and flew out of its body.

Qova turned around, saw Arbiddance, and guessed he doing either a really complicated spell or trying to scratch his back with both hands. She then saw the arrow as he finally turned around, and... as he moved to one side, she saw the goblin archer drawing down on her. She twisted to avoid the incoming missile, and it slashed through the left side of her neck from behind. She fell to her hands and knees and prayed for the pain to stop.

Arbiddance finally found the arrow, which had thankfully missed a kidney, and dropped to one knee as he tried to pull it out. His other hand went up to ward off the goblin as it dropped its bow, pulled its sword and advanced.

Hern looked around for his remaining foe and saw it dashing out the open door. The fighter turned toward the last goblin, then rushed to protect his fallen comrade.

“You son of a bitch!” the goblin heard screamed at him, and he paused long enough to see Qova on her feet, unstrap her mace and hurl it at him. He easily ducked the haphazard throw, but looked around just in time to see Hern's sword slashing down at him.

“Kill it,” Qova pointed toward the frozen shaman and spoke to Hern.

“No! Don't kill it,” Arbiddance countered while Qova was removing the arrow from his back. He noticed her neck wound was already beginning to heal and would probably be well within an hour or so. He made a cutting motion toward the fighter. “Maybe we can question it and learn more about this area.”

Hern kicked the door closed and threw the hasp that secured it. Only then did he look around and notice that there were five other doors in this room. “By the frogs of Haja's fountains... we could have been swarmed from all sides if there were more in here” he spoke grimly.

Qova's quiet prayer and soothing motions of the hand covered over the arrow wound, and the wizard felt much better. He took a drink from his waterskin and looked up at Qova. “I didn't know you spoke goblin.”

She stopped and gazed back at him. “Doesn't everyone?”

What They Saw At The Archway

2009-07-18T15:57:00.001-07:00

Hern hefted his shield, drew his sword and took the lead down the passage with Arbiddance following behind and Qova bringing up the rear. The passage gently... then sharply... sloped downward perhaps 100 feet before the trio were faced with an archway.

Hern knew better than to step through immediately. Instead, he slung his shield over the shoulder and held his amulet up toward the keystone of the arch for a better look. Arbiddance and Qova stood to either side of him and added their own light.

The keystone was carved with the visage of a smiling young woman. Her left eye shed a tear, while the pupil of her right eye was replaced with a five-pointed star set slightly askew to the left.

“Well, that's the same thing carved over the Mother Gate,” Qova said. “Except a lot smaller.”

“Probably whatever is beyond here is connected to what's under the Mother Gate, that's my guess,” mused Arbiddance.

“Ever been through that gate?” Hern asked him.

“No. Though I've heard stories. Very little actually gets written down because some adventurers tend to get a little territorial. I'm going to be an exception when I get a chance,” the gentle man replied. He stopped and looked at the quizzical expression on Qova's face. “What? What is it?”

She was staring at the keystone with a slight frown. “Hern, lift me up,” she asked the fighter.

Hern sheathed his sword and easily lifted the slight woman up by her legs. She leaned closer to the stone and gently felt over it. “Guess what?” she grinned down. “The 'tear' is actually a small gemstone... probably moonstone I think... and the star is separate from the rest. You just can't see it very well from down there.”

“Press the tear and see what happens,” Arbiddance told her. She rubbed it slightly and then firmly pressed down. From beyond the arch they heard a loud click and the grind of an metal door opening.

She grinned down at Arbiddance and motioned to be let down. Hern gently let her slide down, and as she hit the ground, a swift object darted through her hair and into Hern's shoulder.

“Gods poleaxe me! Damn it!” Hern shouted, and they all heard a door slam hard.

Qova had instinctively ducked when she felt the object go through her hair; three seconds slower, and whatever it was would have been buried in her abdomen instead of the fighter's shoulder. She turned and saw a rude arrow sticking out of her friend's chain hauberk. Arbiddance ducked to one side, reached over and pulled her and then the fighter with him.

“Did I do that?” She screamed.

“No! I don't think so. No, you didn't. Hern?”
“I'm good, gods bugger a rock,” Hern dropped his shield,reached over and pulled the arrow out of his right shoulder with a yell. With blood still flowing, he grabbed his shield again, charged past the two and through the arch with sword drawn.

Arbiddance didn't think that was a good idea, since arches tended to be dangerous in places like this, but it seemed one of Qova's gods woke up and decided to watch. Another ten feet or so of passageway led into a small room with three doors. Qova and Arbiddance rushed after the fighter. A quick look showed the door on the right open, while the center and left doors were closed. Hern moved toward the open door.

“No!” Arbiddance hissed. “Think of the angle the arrow came from. It came from that side when she slid down and you stepped to the right.” He pointed to the left door. “A door slammed afterwards. I'll bet it all it was this one.”

Hern rushed to it, tried it and wasn't surprised to find it somehow secured. Taking a step back, he then bull-rushed the door with his good shoulder. Not surprisingly, the door didn't budge.

“Step back,” Arbiddance moved to the side, mumbled a few words, slide his hand up and down where the door catch should be, and then sharply knocked. The door flew open, and Hern could see into another room occupied by some very surprised goblins.

An Interruption

2009-07-18T15:56:00.000-07:00

Allow me a moment, Gareth, to explain Qova's quizzical statement concerning the night of her birth. Qovakrisstia Darkhair, according to her private conversations with me, was born on the night of the fourth New Moon during the 18th year of the reign of Kana the Great over The Onrothy. This would make her roughly 26 years of age. She had previously mentioned five gods afoot in Raban before, and I later gathered that her parents were greatly relieved she came into the world so easily and had not tarried until after midnight; the following day belonged to the Black Sun. I suspect the proximity of her birth to that event colored her both physically and emotionally. Nonetheless, she is consecrated to those five gods and not the Black Sun (to her fortune). Those five gods would be, for your reference: Daen, Kaenorr, Vaekainen, Kae'Aboth, and Stygius. Why these five descended on the city of Raban in one night is another tale.

Also for your reference, I serve Abaoth, and your brother, as you know, was consecrated to the Ice Raven.

How They Found Where The Goblin Fled.

2009-07-17T14:23:00.001-07:00

“There were five gods afoot in Raban the night I was born,” Qovakrisstia Darkhair bitched as they walked down the country lane. “Five! Not one has seen fit to bless me today. If it can go wrong, it has!”

Arbiddance licked at the strands of his mustache to keep from saying something he would probably regret later. He paused, counted to five, and spoke, “finding this place is enough. Once there, we'll make our own luck for awhile. If any of your gods want to smile on us, then I'll gladly take what they hand down. Otherwise...”

He froze as he saw the lanky fighting man ahead stop in his tracks. Hern was not massive, but tall and deceptively strong for his lean frame, and he was frozen like a cat. The swordsman glanced up the road as if trying to focus in on an old friend. He then swiftly turned and mouthed “patrol.”

The word was enough to send the three diving into the thick brush alongside the road and burrowing into the moss. Within a minute, the sound of hoof beats became apparent, and within five minutes a mounted patrol of soldiers casually rode by. The crest of Balisire's three talons raking downward very visible on their helmets. With the passage of another five minutes, Hern scooted forward to make sure the soldiers were out of sight.

“This is why we didn't ride horses,” he hissed at Qova.

Within another two hours, the three stood at the base of Breakharrow Hill. Arbiddance wondered exactly where on the hill's face the legendary sorcerer Breeh had been accidentally impaled by the local simpleton with a pitchfork.

“So...” Qova murmured.

“So. The story is that the local militia cut down some goblins about one hundred yards from here down the road. One goblin escaped, and a few of the lads chased him to this point where he disappeared,” Hern removed his helmet and scratched his head. “Not to be thrown off, they beat the bushes here along the base and found a cave entrance that wasn't exactly a cave entrance. One of those things you could walk by and never notice with a few decades of growth in front of it.

“Well, no one had a torch, but they made one out of a branch and took a look...”

“How did they light the torch?” Qova interrupted.

Hern didn't look at her, but Arbiddance got the impression the warrior was suddenly judging the height of the sheer face on the hill's south side.

“Magic,” he replied. “They used magic. Or a tinderbox, more likely. I guess. I don't know. I don't care. These strapping examples of fine country life saw that a shaft descended down into the hill for much further than their light source allowed. They went down a piece until the shaft emptied into a small room... a room with three iron doors. No goblin, but plenty of tracks. The boys tried one door, couldn't get it open and decided they were in over their heads. So they left.”

Hern looked up and down the road. “So the obviously smarter of the bunch goes to the local tavern where the boasting begins about how many goblins they killed. He lets lose with the story of the shaft here in the hill. Of course, no one believed him since he was a known blow hard, but this one guy in the corner took it all in and later found me.”

“The Grinning Prince?” Arbiddance asked.

“Well, he prefers his own name, but yeah,” Hern smirked.

“I hope you didn't pay a lot for this information,” Qova scowled. “Or at least we can recoup the costs of coming here and sleeping in that fleatrap inn.”

All three stood there gazing at the hill for a few seconds. Hern added “did I mention the arch?”

“No, you didn't mention that detail, Hern,” Arbiddance quickly replied. “Do so now.”

“A large arch right before the room... a grinning female face, with a tear in one eye and a star in the other, was carved into the keystone,” Hern said.

“The Mother Gate,” Qova said. “This is Doomwatch.”

“It's a long way from Doomwatch or the Mother Gate,” Arbiddance said quietly. “Probably more like a satellite construction. It may not even lead to main thing at all.”

Hern turned and looked the older man in the eye and pointed at him. “Every single ruined complex in this countryside ultimately leads to Doomwatch,” Hern answered. “This one will too.”

The three climbed closer to the hillside and searched the brush. Within ten minutes, Hern found where the militia boys had trampled down some weeds and followed the trail to a large clump of brush covering over a square hole in the side of the hill. All three gazed down into the slanting shaft, looked at each other, and uncovered their amulets of light.

To be continued...

Arbiddance Breaks The Bad News

2009-07-16T19:05:00.000-07:00

To Gareth the butcher, of Kalmyr:

May you be blessed in the name of Abaoth the Merciful.

I am writing this sad epistle, friend Gareth, so that you may know in detail the events which led to your brother's death deep within the murky confines of that foul place. There were none braver than Hern; on numerous occasions he saved my life and I only wish that I could have been in a better position to save his soul. His body I send packed in salt so that it may be interred through the customs of your faith.

To relate the events of his demise in a more clear light, I must detail the ruins in which we delved for some two weeks before Hern met his untimely yet heroic end. The place is called Doomwatch and it stands deep in the West Forest, some twelve leagues from Talos where Balesire, the grim Duke of Talons holds court. The largest swath of the west coast of the Sea of Tombs is under his domination now thanks in part to his spiritual alliance with our gracious Overking. The other nobles, especially the foppish Duke of Ydric, guard their borders jealously, but all know that should Balesire desire to expand his borders at their expense, no fair judgement or aid will come from the Alpine Throne. Sadly, the other nobles spend too much time at the throats of each another to form an alliance and put an end to his ambitions. The soldiers of The Naej under the Taloned Banner will march on until Fate intervenes, I'm afraid. Only the frightening Nerve Weaver of Veronic seems unafraid of the future.

Back to Doomwatch: the biggest known part of that place serves as a prison for those condemned by the Duke of Talons. Many hundreds have passed through the Great Gates into its depths with perhaps a score or so finding escape. The Duke is not without mercy, for he has decreed that any prisoner able to escape that hole is worthy of his freedom.

Likewise, many adventuresome individuals, such as myself and Hern and the winsome Qovakrisstia Darkhair, have paid the toll to enter the depths of Doomwatch and seek out its fabled secrets and riches. We passed through the Great Gates once, but found almost everything within a day's search from that point to be stripped clean or infested with insane prisoners seeking our blood to quench their thirst.

A bit of Doomwatch history is in order: first, no one is sure who built this complex or when. Best guesses by sages estimate the upper works... which are mainly the Great Gate and a few fallen towers... to be over three millenia old and possibly date to before the rise of Sredna's kingdom. The scrollwork on the outside definitely shows some evidence of Anayari culture.

As to entrances: the Great Gate is the main method for reaching the first of many levels to this damned place. It is heavily guarded by the soldiers of The Naej and has the seal of the Duke himself. That gate lies as I described earlier. The smaller gate (and more recently built it seems), known locally as the Mother Gate, sits over three thousand yards to the north (which should begin to give you some idea of the expansive size of this place). There are twelve other known entrances to Doomwatch, and all are likewise guarded with no entrance allowed (though prisoners are permitted by law to exit there should they prove capable). These smaller entrances were discovered over time, used by delving adventurers, and ultimately came under the sanction of the Duke. It is rumored that a handful of other entrances lie scattered throughout the countryside. It is one of those entrances that Hern, myself and our ravenesque associate found and used.

To be continued...