The Shard and the DevilsThe Shard and the Devils DM Note: Ben was unavailable this week, so Lotheemas remembered a call of nature and hurried away as the party went into the cave. This could have been unfortunate, given the opposition.... |
The adventurers paused, rightly nervous of this dark portal, and prepared themselves by casting protective spells. Lastly, Lothalla cast a Light spell on the end of her quarterstaff, making a tall lantern that cast a generous pool of illumination. Galaecien was humming an inspiring tune as they stepped into the shadowed maw of the cave and followed the rough rock passage beyond into the darkness.
Neidric the dwarf was far less disturbed by the plunge into the underground than any of the others. For him, this was familiar territory, ill-omened though it was. He felt his natural affinity with stone spread out into the walls and ceilings ... and floors. "Stop!" he barked. The party halted and he prodded a piece of the floor with his axe-helve, nodding in confirmation as the flimsy covering dropped away to reveal a pit dropping away into the dimness. A metallic glint at the bottom hinted at an unpleasant shock for anyone falling in.
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Slowly, with Lothalla right behind him to supply the best light, he worked his way along the passage, uncovering the traps and the safe path through them. Three were discovered and revealed, but the fourth was rather better hidden than the others, and Neidric didn't spot it until a step too late. With a yell, he and Lothalla pitched forward and plunged into the hole.
"Featherfall!" screamed the sorceress, and her body was abruptly drifting gently towards the bottom of the pit. Neidric had no such options, and with a heavy crash he struck the stone floor. A blaze of pain arose from one arm where a spike had pierced it; his armour deflected the others, though his head was twisted sideways where the spike had pushed against his helmet. Battered and bruised from the fall, he pulled himself off the spike and growled up at the pale faces looking down, demanding a rope. Galaecien dropped one and braced it, and the two victims clambered out of the pit, Neidric trailing blood behind him. After Galaecien had healed him, he recovered enough to recall noticing that the walls of the pit were smooth, looking as if they had been melted through the rock rather than dug. With even more caution, the group moved through the remaining pits in the passage and turned a corner.
Once again, Neidric halted, and indicated the ceiling. "If we hit the trigger," he said quietly, "that boulder up there comes down on our heads." Lothalla started tapping the ceiling and walls where he indicated with her illuminated staff and - so suddenly that no-one was able to react in time - the block crashed down. When the dust cleared, the now very dim light showed Lothalla holding the butt end of her staff and staring stupidly at the other end where it disappeared under the slab of stone that had fallen from the ceiling. Sourly, she pulled it out, and held it up, the end bent and mangled beyond repair but the Light spell still running.
Beyond the block trap they encountered a steep downward incline, with a rough floor covered in loose stones and gravel. The footing was shifting and treacherous, and both Lothalla and Ismyr lost their balance and rolled some painful distance down the steep and rocky slope. Neidric practically surfed his way down to pick them up, and Galaecien healed the unlucky women before looking around to see where they were.
The scree slope had widened out into a fan sloping onto a gravel beach, against which lapped an expanse of still, dark water, contained in a huge, high-roofed cavern which faded into the distance ahead of them. Distantly, the thunder of a waterfall could be heard to the left. The walls curved around just within sight, inidicating a width of several hundred feet. Near where they stood, a groove marked into the gravel hinted that a boat had been stored there not so very long ago. Their path lay across the lake, but how to cross it?
Lothalla had the Fly spell, but there were doubts the magic would last long enough to reach the other side. The nearest to something helpful they could summon was a Fiendish Giant Squid which wasn't much use. Twenty Ocloth and Lothalla both sent their familiar owls winging silently into the darkness to scout ahead, and the slitheren ratman decided to try something his kin were famous for - climbing.
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Slinging his spear on his back, the ratman gripped the rough rock with his claws and swarmed up the cave wall, working his way sideways. The surface was easy for him to climb, though it would have seriously challenged a human climber without equipment. Steadily he worked his way along until he reached the waterfall, which to his disappointment was plunging into the cave and not out. Carefully, he worked his way along behind it and emerged, dripping, at the other side. Fifteen minutes more climbing brought him in sight of the beach at the other side, where the cave began to rise again, and he grinned at the sight of a small rowboat beached on the shingle, with two owls perched on the gunwale, their expressions a mixture of smugness at having found it and chagrin at being unable to do anything with it.
Half an hour later, the party disembarked from the boat and started up the slope towards the resumption of the passage, taking consolation that with the distance and the waterfall, no-one was going to have heard them blundering into the traps near the entrance. Twenty Ocloth was wet through; he'd been unable to negotiate a particularly nasty overhang and had to swim the last hundred yards. The passage sloped sharply upwards, turned and suddenly opened out into a large cavern.
Blessing the caution that had led them to cast Invisibility on everyone, they recognized two of the renegade militiamen, armed with spears, standing guard at the entrance to the cavern. Beyond was a cave perhaps two hundred and fifty feet long and a hundred wide. Pits of fire illuminated it brightly, if infernally, and a fifteen foot wide chasm split it from side to side around half-way along. Ledges protruded at various heights, and Galaecien spotted the other two militiamen standing on two of them, bows strung and ready.
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At the far end was a raised area, which strangely was bathed in a warm, yellow light very like natural daylight. Galaecien particularly felt an empathy with that light, a conviction that it was far more wholesome than the flames that leaped and danced in the sinkholes elsewhere. The daylight lit two figures standing talking on the raised area, one human - Cherm - and one very definitely not. Lothalla, who'd had some experience with creatures from the lower planes, whispered that it was a barbed devil, a hamatula. She evidently regarded this as enough justification to go on as she launched a Fireball at it with no further preamble. The ball of flames washed across the raised area, and for a moment she hoped for results as Cherm's clothes caught fire and some of his equipment started to melt. However, the man himself was unharmed and he casually beat the flames out. The hamatula merely threw back its' spined head and laughed exultantly as the fire raged around it. Then it began to chant in a deep, ominous voice, and all the spellcasters could feel power rising as it did so.
Galaecien was already singing, her melody tingling along the nerves of the heroes, bracing their courage against the fearful foe and strengthening their arms. Twenty Ocloth, more practical than Lothalla, had loaded the bead from his Necklace of Fireballs into a sling and whipped it off towards one of the archers. It burst with a thunderous blast, and though the man had rolled away with lithe speed he was painfully burned, and his arrow went wide. His comrade's shot bounced off the ratman's magical protection, but the spearmen were more successful, and one wounded him in the arm as he twisted past them. Then Neidric was between them, fading into view as his massive axe smashed one man over backwards headless and bisected the other on the backswing. Gathering himself, he began to run towards the nearest archer, unworried by the fact that the man was ostensibly safe on a ledge 40' above him.
With a shimmering crackle of profane energy, four columns of vile light coalesced into solid forms, and four bearded devils - barbazu - materialized on scattered ledges, summoned from the Nine Hells by the barbed devil. Two, on the far side of the chasm, remained where they were, but one of the nearer ones dropped down to engage Neidric.
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Galaecien and Ismyr, still invisible, started to quietly move along the cave, still singing. The bard had an idea and wanted to pursue it. Twenty Ocloth used a cast Fireball on the other archer, wounding him also but not removing him from the combat, as Lothalla summoned four celestial eagles and set them to attack one of the barbazu on the other ledges. Seeing this, the hamatula pointed a finger at her and said a word, and a ray of deep red light lanced across the cavern, blasting her with scorching pain and sending her staggering backwards, her robes smouldering. Staggered, she got a grip and threw another Fireball at the further archer, but her aim was off and he was only minimally hurt.
Neidric and Twenty Ocloth both found themselves engaged with barbazu, and the dwarf roared as he swung his axe, slashing it across the body with effort; it was a skilled fighter. The ratman found out the hard way that the creatures could attack with their sharp, spiny beards, and blood smeared his fur as he wielded his spear. Then things got worse as the hamatula disappeared with a flash and appeared next to Neidric and Twenty Ocloth, having Teleported across the cavern. Massive claws like knives tore through the dwarf's mail, leaving deep wounds, and for a moment he felt supernatural terror grip him and turn his muscles to water. Then he gritted his teeth, spat blood on the floor and struck back.
Twenty Ocloth recognized he was outmatched in melee here, and cast a Jump spell to catapult himself out of combat and onto the ledge with the nearest archer. As he did so, Lothalla's Web spell dropped neatly on the barbazu he'd been fighting, meshing it helplessly. The ratman jabbed at the archer with his spear but the man twisted adroitly out of the way as he dropped the bow and pulled a knife.
Lothalla, turning her attention to the other demons, summoned a pack of wolves on the other side of the chasm and these swarmed up towards the far ledges, seeking the barbazu there. Neidric was struggling to stay alive, blood pouring from a dozen wounds, still plying his axe and returning strikes, but being beaten back by the terrible hamatula which was slowly wearing him down. Lothalla was desperate for something she could do to help; her Magic Missile and Web had already flared and died against the devil's magic resistance.
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Up on the ledge, Twenty Ocloth changed tactics and jammed his spear between the archer's legs. A savage twist of his muscular furry body hurled the man off his feet and he bowled off the ledge. Taken completely by surprise, he came down from forty feet up onto his head with a horrible crunch and was of no further interest. Twenty Ocloth muttered the words of the True Strike spell, and hurled his spear across the chasm to thud into the barbazu on its' ledge at the far side.
Having reached the edge of the raised area, Galaecien threw her voice and made her inspiring song seem to come from across the cave. Cherm, hearing it, turned and hefted his sword, setting off to investigate. Galaecien and Ismyr soft-footed past him.
The barbazu that had come down from its' ledge to fight Neidric levelled a finger at Lothalla. Oh no, she thought, and "stay!" it snarled. Her muscles locked and she stood helpless as the Hold Person gripped her. Giving up on the hamatula for the moment, Neidric switched targets and launched a massive strike at the barbazu. This time there was no mistake and the massive dwarf-axe tore through the devil's profane flesh. Twitching, it dropped, and faded away as the summoning ended. His fleeting victory came at a terrible price, as the hamatula slashed him again, sending him staggering and almost dead from his wounds; only Galaecien's song was keeping him on his feet now.
Twenty Ocloth used his Jump again and soared across the chasm after his spear. Great, he thought, I have it back, now all i have to do is kill this 7' devil I'm sharing a ledge with.
Neidric struck again, and felt the axe bite, but he knew he was all up. His parry of the return attack was slow, and the terrible claws bit deep into him. Blackness surged up, and he fell, his axe clattering across the stone floor. With an evil chuckle, the devil turned slowly to look with diabolic glee at the helplessly Held Lothalla.
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Galaecien bent and picked up the object that was radiating the daylight. It was a Peloric symbol, the sunface, wrought in gold, like Lotheemas' but bigger, and set with tiny diamonds. As she lifted it, it broke out in even warmer light, and her mind filled with calm knowledge. Lifting a hand, she pointed at the barbazu Twenty Ocloth was fighting. A Searing Light spell, like the ones Lotheemas cast, lashed out and drilled the devil clear throught. Grinning, she shifted her attention to Cherm and blasted him. The human form shrivelled and burned away, and a fifth barbazu appeared from within him and sprawled on the rock - not fading, so not summoned like the others. Knowing she had only three uses of the spell, the bard aimed her last at the hamatula preparing to disembowel Lothalla, and the devil screamed as it writhed in the holy fire of the Imperial Sun God.
| DM Note: Just when it was all over, a bloody woeful Jump roll from Pete, to go over a 15' gap. Good job they were roped together...! |
Slinging the Shard of the Sun around her neck, the bard and Ismyr - still roped together from their climb over the chasm - ran back towards the dying Neidric. Taking a run-up, Galaecien leaped across the chasm, but the effect of the magic she'd wielded made her stumble, and she missed the far side, smacked into the rough wall of the chasm, and began to slide down. Ismyr screamed, braced herself, and was pulled flat on her face as Galaecien's weight came down on the rope. Sliding faster and faster towards the pit and death, she was brought up short as hands gripped her shoulders and stopped her. Twenty Ocloth chuckled. "You don't want to do that," he commented.
A second try saw Galaecien across the chasm, and seconds later she was kneeling next to Neidric. Her last healing spell drew him back from the very brink of death, and a few moments later the dwarf's eyes opened. The battle was over, and the holy treasure of the temple saved... but what now for the village and its' milita?
Session Date: 4th Sept 2012