Helswane Dungeon

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[size=+1]I slap another bolt into the crossbow and draw back the string, but the bolt lodged in my shoulder is starting to become a serious hindrance; my arm screams with pain with every movement, and bringing the crossbow up to fire is becoming increasingly difficult.

Grunting in pain, I finally manage to get the bow levelled at the fleeing kobold, letting loose another shot. Once again it goes wide, this time even more wildly.
"Bastard!" I snarl, watching the creature flee even further out of sight. I move to reload and glance over to Lindon. "Sorry, friend! I fear this one's down to you now!"

Goddamn that trap. I should have just sprung it and backed off.[/size]
 
The dog charged me and met with my shield. "Die!" I yelled as I swung my axe at the hound. I put all my strength behind the blow, all to avenge Darius, all in vain...My swing was deadly, but the dog's agility was too great. It easily wiggled one direction and dodged my blow. My axe slammed into the ground, recoiling back from the impact causing me to stagger back a foot.

"I'm sorry Darius." I said to the paladin, through angrily gritted teeth.
 
The furious rat continued to tail after the canine, it's spiny body moving in a serpentine manner far more than any terrestrial animal. The fiend finally catches a break, it's small teeth finding purpose in the dog's hind leg. Disease transfers into the bite, as the rat samples blood from the canine. The rat hisses in triumph, grinning malevolently - intelligently. It's furious eyes met Mallow's, before the rat moved, flanking with the warrior.

"Damn. I really hoped you'd get it - you're a better shot." Lindon shakes his head, deciding to run forward a few paces, trying to minimize the distance between his target and himself. As he steps forward, he loads the crossbow, exhaling. He felt some manner of fear, though he didn't think it was about the kobolds or the canine. The crashing sound from behind him as the serpent broke through confirmed his alarm. He attempted to focus, firing towards the final kobold...

...He watches the bolt just miss the creature as it flits around the corner. The dragon-helmed man snarled monstrously, tensing like he's about to run after the creature.
 
The dog yelped as the rat savaged its leg. Twisting from the Dwarf, it moved with the same savage speed as when it attacked Darius. Closing its jaws around the rat, it picked it up, shaking and mauling until the vermin's bones were snapped then tossing its corpse against the wall to dissipate. Then it wheeled on Mallow again, barring blood-soaked teeth.

The remaining Kobold fled around the bend of the corridor, squawking and shrieking. A second passed, before the sound of its spear could be heard, drumming on a metal door. Another second and then the groan of the doors swinging wide. There were another two grunts, like creatures waking from sleep, and these were much deeper than Kobold's.

Reinforcements were coming.
 
[size=+1]The kobold disappears out of sight as Lindon's bolt sails past it, leaving me swearing in frustration as I reload my weapon. My companion beside me looks to be in a similar state of frustration, like he's almost ready to charge off after the little greenskinned fuck and give him what-for.

Tempting idea, but I'd rather be with the group when it comes back with friends.

"Nevermind!" I shout to Lindon, "Shoot that bastard dog!" No sense in being quiet now; they already know we're here. I bring the crossbow up, ignoring the searing pain, and fire upon the dog that's just finished working over the summoned creature.

Predictably, the bolt goes wide yet again. I'm practically seething in fury as I back up and reload.

We're in trouble, here. Especially going by the sounds coming down the hall.[/size]
 
Darius blinked as a crossbow bolt sailed across his vision and thudded into the wall. It was enough to stir him from the pain. Rolling again, he reached for his warhammer while his other hand soaked with blood. He swung as the dog moved for Mallow, the hammer tearing through its side. Flesh tore, bones cracked. The dog howled dreadfully but kept on going, its eyes and jaws still set on Mallow. Darius had slowed it down... but it was still going...
 
Lindon didn't need to be told twice. Spinning in rage, his eyes practically flashing red, he turned on the dog. It was engaged - he hadn't the skill to take a shot at it without possibly hitting one of his friends. So, dropping his crossbow on the cold stone ground, he unclips the morningstar from his belt, brandishing it and taking a few steps forward... before evolving into a run, roaring in fury at the beast.

The mace crashes down on nothing but air, bloodlust afire in Lindon's eyes. "One thousand and one curses! I will make sure your stay in hell registers as torture even for your mind, dog! RAARGH!"
 
I had to recover from my last attack. I missed hitting a DOG...So I swung at it again, looking directly at the beast that just tried to attack me for the second time. With all the anger welling up inside of me, I wasn't thinking clearly...that must have been the case, because I missed yet again, my axe flew clean over top of the ducking dog's head...

"Grrraaah! Ye little whelp!" I roared in anger as I noticed my already in motion swing was going to miss. I couldn't believe that this animal was so difficult to hit.
 
The dog was in a frenzy, bleeding and slavering, every bark and twitch throwing off the adventurers' attacks. It saw only Mallow, snapping at him again. It bit at the Dwarf's shield, snagging the edge, yanking and twisting.

Meanwhile a martial roar shook the corridor. The Kobold had returned, snickering with glee, and with it came two larger creatures dragging broad and rusted falchions. The Orcs were naked, having no time to don armour, but this had not dulled their courage. They were hungry for battle. The pair broke into a sprint, howling as they charged the adventurers, the Kobold scurrying with them. They were forty feet away, their stench sailing ahead of them.
 
Again, the little wretch of a beast tries to attack me, and again he failed...sadly, when I attacked in counter, I failed as well. My axe landed right beside the dog and missed completely. What was wrong with me? Was it my shoulder wound? no...I had forgotten all about that...Why was I so off this battle? Oh, and on top of the dog still harassing us, two nude, foul orcs came running back with the kobold that left. This was going from bad to worse very quickly.

I could barely find the determination to lift my axe once more. My strength was draining, and my confidence was dwindling. My comrad was bleeding from his neck and even more enemies showed up. Maybe we weren't destined to find treasures here...maybe we would die where we stood...
 
[size=+1]More company comes charging round the corner as the dog continues to cling to life. Two Orcs, naked as the day they were spawned, are careering straight for us with weapons raised, roaring battle-cries. You've got to admire that willingness to fight, even in the buff.

Nonetheless, they are out to kill and eat us, so best not get too fond of them.

"More company, friends!" I shout, wrenching up the crossbow and firing at our new attackers. Finally the bolt flies true, slamming into the right Orc's forehead. His battle-cry is cut off mid-roar and his feet give out from under him, sending him collapsing to the ground.

Much more like it. We might just actually survive this.[/size]
 
Bloodlust welling in the magic-user's veins, Lindon was fed up with this dog. Reaching down, he grabbed the creature's tail, violently pulling on it. The creature's yelp was so satisfying to him... but not as satisfying as raising his morningstar and bringing it down on the beast's side. The spikes of his morningstar stuck into the dog with a horrible 'SQUELSH', and stayed there for a moment.

Still somewhat concious, the dog whimpered... with a smile hidden behind his dragon mask, he ripped his morningstar from the beast's hide - killing it. He watched the creature fall, as if in slow motion - savoring it's death by his hands. Slowly, he turns to face the final orc and the kobold. "Falazure has taken notice of you - he comes, and I am his vessel. You will be a fine meal for death." Gesturing at the two with his bloodied morningstar, he sweeps his cloak as he takes a few steps back, retreating from the immediate front lines.
 
Jace gritted at the sudden burst of action, his vision still blurred from the shaking. The flood of water and emergence of the serpent sent his rage into a spike, watching the oncoming bolt of lightning. "Not this time, you blasted abomination!" Jace snarls as he flattens himself against the side of the corridor, the lightning bolt passing by him and dispersing with a loud explosion against the rock walls. Starting a run, he exited the corridor quickly before he beast could get off another blast. Urging the closest of his companions back, he shut the door barricaded as he best he could.

Immediately he turned his attention to to Darius, sliding his shield onto his back and began running a hand over the bleeding wound in Darius' neck. "Flesh render itself back unto whole form, glory of the gods empower me." The flesh under his fingers starting to knitting quickly under a bright glow. Removing his hand, the flesh on Darius' neck is completely restored and clearedof blood. [Heal Minor Injury for 9 hp to Darius].

With a grin, Jace grasped his shoulder and helped him up, reminiscent of only minutes before on his own downside. With a shout he continued on to the rest of the group loudly: "NO ONE FALLS!".
 
The irony was not lost on him. He had helped Jace up a moment before and now the favour had been returned. The holy magic was like a pulse sending fire and light throught Darius's blood. The pain became ice numb and he felt his skin tighten. Removing his hand, the blood was dry, and his senses cleared. Lindon's shout drew his attention to the new threat. Beyond Mallow, who was still recovering from his last swing, he saw the final Orc and Kobold charging. They were almost upon them. He had to block the charge. Vaulting over the body of the dog, the paladin brought up his shield and swung his warhammer overhead, driving clumsily but powerfully towards the second Orc. [Power Attack -1 to hit, +1 to damage]. The hammer head smashed square between the greenskin's eyes and it kept on running for a moment, barging into Darius's shield. It seemed to keep going, before its legs gave way and it slumped down dead against the wall.

The Kobold froze mid-charge, pale with horror as the two Orcs were felled and the dog put down. But its momentum had carried it too close to the paladin. It lashed out with its spear, half-heartedly, deviously. The spear tip sliced Darius's side as he fell with the Orc [1 damage]. The Kobold shrieked and backed away, almost regretting what it had done.
 
[size=+1]Jace enters the fray, and not a moment too soon; his magicks light up Darius as they tend to his wounds. The soldier rises to his feet once more, back in the fight, and brings down the final Orc.

Just that little bastard left.

What with it having dodged my previous attacks I'm feeling a tad irritable towards this kobold; I step forwards and bring my weapon up to fire. The bolt finally hits the mark, slamming through the kobold's armour and into it's chest. The creature staggers back, clutching at it's chest before finally falling.

The fight was over.

Grunting, I let my injured shoulder rest as I re-sling my crossbow, clutching at the wound. Part of me wants to rip the dart out, but I reckon it'd be best to let those who know how to deal with such matters recommend how it be fixed.
"Well… that just about turned rather bad for us all, didn't it? Someone fancy helping me with this bloody dart? I can't feel my fuckin' arm anymore."[/size]
 
Lindon nearly fell over in relief, panting heavily. He tilts his helmet back, wiping the persperation from his forehead with his sleeve. "That was... well. It certainly won't get... phew, won't get any harder." He shakes his head, coming down off of his bloodlust. He tilts his head back towards the door where the serpent had tried to break through a moment ago, shivering visibly. Of course, it could just be from his cold, soaked robes.

He nods at Garrick, "Allow me. Jace shouldn't have to use all of his resources right now." He walks forward, dropping his morningstar for a moment to cast the same spell as before, taking his hand off a moment later. "It's not complete, but it won't be as awful now. Next we rest, it should fully heal up by the end of it." [Lindon casts 'Cure Minor Wounds', healing 1 HP.]

At that, Lindon turns, facing the corpse of the canine. He considers it for a moment, before stepping forward and kneeling before it... inspecting it.

"Hrm. This is still in pretty decent shape." He nods, swinging his backpack around and digging inside it for a moment - pulling out a pair of gloves, a bag... and a knife. Before it likely registers what he's about to do, the cultist cuts into the canine, beginning the process of stripping skin and flesh from bone. The messy process creates a scene that might even turn a dwarven stomach. Lidon discards the entirety of the animal's insides, muscles, and the like.

In little more than two minutes, Lindon had stripped the animal of it's flesh. The skeletal remains of the dog, covered in blood, sat before him. He smiles at the various bones, tenderly picking each up and placing them within a nearby bag - as if this was the most normal thing for him to do.
 
A foul sight. Darius did not know how he felt as he watched Lindon butcher the dog's corpse. He had heard of wildmen taking trophies, but this... this had ritual to it. And those words the cleric had spoken, when he cursed his enemy...

His thoughts were cut short. There were more howls in the distance, coming from the left where the corridor stretched away into darkness. There were footfalls, a dozen perhaps, Orks and Goblins barking orders, dogs straining at chains. The alarm had been sounded and a force had been mustered from their slumber. The dungeon was waking up.

"No time for small-talk," Darius grunted as he kicked away the Orc's corpse and pressed a hand to his scratched back. As one the party moved, jogging right to the turn in the corridor as howls filled the tunnels. There they found the room the Orcs had come from and it was here they took shelter, as the waters broke through the original passageway and cut off the reinforcements behind them. As luck would have it they had not been seen and the waters would mask their scent and their deeds from their pursuers. The search parties would be busy panicking about the flood now.

It was a guard room of sorts they found themselves in. More dog chains hung on the wall, together with torches for the Kobold patrols and twine for the traps. A bucket of fish guts stood in the corner, with rags from slaughtered fishermen and old sailing bundles. Inside would be more coins and valuables, worth 210 gold in total. And upon the wall, almost mistaken for a dog-chain, was something polished and glinting. It had been hung there with great care, as if it were a gift the Orcs dare not touch. It took a moment for them to recognise the Dire Flail, but they could see that it was masterwork, forged by an expert in exotic weaponry.

A great gift indeed for a pair of Orcs.

Sealing the door behind them, they could finally rest. Darius slumped upon one of two rickety chairs that stood around a table at the room's centre. He was rubbing his neck, as if not daring to believe that the bite marks had gone. Through panting breaths he smiled, "Well... we're over the threshold now..."

He stared at his left hand, looking strange now caked in blood.

120XP each
 
I looked like a fool in that battle. I couldn't do anything but hang my head in shame as I slumped down against the wall in the guard room. My anguish was obvious. Maybe I just needed to sit for a moment and gather my thoughts, so I did.

I thought about the times I spent delving into caves and lost ruins that I thought were dangerous, but nothing compared to what we were up against now. It was almost overwhelming. I smacked my face lightly a couple times to try to snap myself back to my senses, but I didn't gain any sense of relief or some sudden realization like I had hopped. I simply sat on the ground looking at the floor.

Turning my head to the side, I noticed a small coin purse on the ground next to me so I grabbed it and stuffed it into my pack, claiming it as my share of the spoils here. Spoils...treasure...a smile crossed my face when thinking about the treasures that may lie here. And on top of that, I had a great crew at my side. Yeah, things were going to be okay!

Standing up and dusting my arse off I smiled at the group. "Aye, ye did a damn fine job back there!"I threw my fist into the air and smiled before noticing the shiny new flail.

"By Moradin! What craftsmanship! Tis a great piece of work!" I didn't want it, as someone else might be able to use it, I'd probably just hurt myself trying to fight with it, but I could appreciate the craftsmanship.
 
The noise of the search parties grew weaker. The greenskins were pulling back, unable to contain the water gushing into the corridor. Patrol dogs whined as they were yanked away and orc snarls sent the smaller kobolds and goblins scurrying. They had heard the noise of battle, but with the water covering the corpses and scent-trails there was little chance for investigation. They would damn the corridor further up, and report to their overlords...

Hearing this, the other adventurers came away from the guardroom door, assured that they safe for the time being. From the table Darius followed Mallow's gaze to the wall. The Dire Flail was indeed a work of cruel precision, perfectly preserved like the acid flasks in the other room. Almost new. Rising, the paladin took the chain-weapon down from the wall and tested its weight. "What you said before, Mallow... about us being set up... you may be right. These items look like gifts."

He peered around the room, checking for other offerings, but there was nothing as fine as this flail. Above them, a wooden trapdoor marked the way ahead. It was built into the roof and Garrick had found a rusted ladder leant against one wall for accessing it. In another corner lay the foetid armour which the two orcs had negelected to put on, and amongst their blankets Darius found a second pouch of gold. Though thievery was not in his nature, the gold may do well to bribe some of the more accommodating denizens of this dungeon later on. Pocketing the pouch, he moved towards Jace and held out the flail in one hand.

"You spared me from a grievous wound back there, Brother. If you want this weapon, it is yours."

Even as he made the offer, his eyes drifted to Lindon, the dragon-helmed man still wet with the carcass of the dog he had butchered. The cultist's war-shouts echoed in Darius's memory. Falazure. It was a god, no doubt, and one he remembered was connected to the domain of exhaustion. Falazure... laz.. lazy. That was how he had remembered. But whatever else his mentors had taught him, in the many lessons of church and state, he had forgotten.

But what kind of religion would condone the desecration of animals?
 
[size=+1]Lindon steps up to assist me in fixing the wound on my shoulder, letting loose some of his magic upon me. I feel the wound begin to tighten and close up and I reach up to ease the bolt from my shoulder with a slight wince. The wound's still a bit raw and bloody, but gore isn't running from it anymore. The cleric informs me it'll be fixed when we get a chance to rest.
"Whenever that might be," I say with a chuckle, "Much appreciated, friend. Feels better already." I look over to Mallow, who seems to be in some inner turmoil regarding the battle we've just survived. "You're much too hard on yourself, chum! T'was a rough situation for all of us, to be certain, and I'm quite positive you all you could!"

We begin our search of the new rooms as Lindon sets to work on the dog behind me. I flinch a little as he begins hacking into the animal and turn away, but I refrain from comment; though some of Lindon's quirks might rub me the wrong way slightly, he's been a solid companion who's watched my back so far.

More than I can say for some of the people I've run with over the last year.

Behind us, the greenskin search parties are cut off by the water finally bursting forth through the entrance to the dungeon. A small mercy; it'll give us time to search this place and then get away like all Nine Hells were on our collective tails. Entering what looks to be a guard room of sorts, my eyes fall upon some strange and dangerous looking weapon hanging on one of the walls.
"What you said before, Mallow..." Darius begins, "…about us being set up... you may be right. These items look like gifts."
"The good master dwarf indeed has a point," I agree, "That's far too pretty a piece to be in the possession of such a rabble we just faced. Methinks there's more than meets the eye in this dungeon." I step up to examine the weapon before laughing. "Impressive thing, but as my dear old ma used to tell me, 'don't fuck around with things you haven't a bloody clue about, son'. Wise woman, my old ma. Really should have listened to her more, in hindsight…"

Moving away, I locate another helping of gold tucked away in one of the corners. Someone's private stash. Mine now; I add it to my coin pouch. A further scan around the room reveals a trapdoor in a ceiling, with a rusted ladder leading up to it.
"Appears we've found our escape, friends. Once dear Lindon is, ah… finished with his engagement we should probably vacate this place before we get entertained by more of the residents." I glance back over to the flail. "And someone should take that. If nothing else I'd wager you'd make quite a tidy sum flogging it."[/size]
 
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