The NOT So Cute And Fuzzy DM's page

2 posts. Alias of Dennis Harry.


RL has not been so cute and fuzzy lately. Hoping that it gets cuter and fuzzier for a while...

The City of Greyhawk - 581 CY

As the hands are about to be revealed, IT happens... fiery lances of pain ripping through your skull! Each of you sees a vision, a horrible vision of death. Small furry bodies fall smashing into the table, cards fall from nerveless fingers, the pot of money and jewels flies across the room, the game is in ruin.

First, it happens to -

Darkness at the edge of your vision obscures more than what is right next to the old Spell Hurler, Rary is struck by claws, stone claws and several of them. It seems he is rigid or somehow paralyzed. All the same, his throat and neck are torn apart by the claws.

Then to -

Darkness at the edge of your vision obscures whatever it is that has a hold of Otto's neck. You see his vision twist sideways as his neck is snapped at an odd angle delivering instant death. His body falls to a stone floor.

Next -

Jallarzi seems frozen, she cannot move try as she might. Then a fuzzy image comes hurtling towards her eyes. Both go dark instantly, her mind, so beautiful, is wrenched back out through those sockets... The body slumps to a cold hard floor.

Followed by -

Otiluke has brought up a sphere to protect himself you hear but cannot see the sound of bodies hitting the floor. Then the sphere wavers and shrinks, crushing him within! He is forced to relinquish his powerful abjuration. Then hands with stone like claws rip at him. His eyes, his mouth. He tries to cast another spell when the words of magic uninhibited by foes crackles. A lightning bolt so powerful he pauses for a moment.

The stone hands on him are pushed away. He casts another spell attempting to translocate away but it is stifled! The a final word rings through his mind, "DIE!". He falters and then so perishes.

To -

Drawmij pauses for a moment but then seems able to act once more, he casts a powerful summoning in response to which nothing happens! Milli-seconds later he is struck by a bolt of lighting at the same time he is struck by a white superhot fireball! He sees nothing more. He struggles to reach for a potion when a boot stomps his hand and the vial, glass shards pierce his flesh. Thereafter, that same boot falls upon his neck and sickening thud ends your Master...

Thereafter -

Nystul is frozen. He hears death delivered around him, when he can move once more his spell, some sort of transmutation fails! Before he can cast again a blot of lighting strikes him. He sees a flash of fire and manages to roll away from it but is singed in the process.

The darkness seems to be a living tangible thing, he attempts to dispel it when a thought echoes in his mind, My enemy is right here, he's always been jealous of me. I've a chance to slay him! He turns and sees Bigby who has one of his hands up and active. Nystul blasts the hated Bigby with some sort of Blacklight. Nystul shakes his head fighting off this evil thought. Before he can act to undo what he has done, stony wings envelop and tackle him. He casts a spell blasting the thing, he still can't exactly see what it is, into the ceiling. By the time he gets to a knee, Bigby lies on the floor, seemingly dead. Suddenly, Nystul shrivels up and falls over dead.

But then -

Sees Bigby freeze. Then he is able to come to his senses. Whatever is attacking his fellow Wizards is hard to track and see but it is raving in some old dead language that even Bigby does not understand. A crushing then a clenched fist spell roll from his lips as the fight rages around him. The hand absorbs a lightning bolt intended for him. He has the foes, victory is within his grasp!

Then out of the corner of his eye Nystul targets him with a spell! Not prepared for it, he cannot see, Somehow the creature which should be crushed breaks free, could a mortal do that he thinks? Then he feels cold hands, hands like the grave grasp his throat. He cannot move once more try as he might. Neck snapped, Bigby falls to the floor a rag doll his fist and hand thereafter hover immobile.

Finally -

Grunts as his Master is the last, initial translocation spells fail. Then Tenser begins to cast spells which will, he hopes, allow him to combat the foe with less magic, which seems to be failing, and more cold hard steel.

Body honed as the greatest of warriors through magic he leaps into the fray, slicing whatever stands in his way. A magic blade, the spell created by Mordenkainen himself aids in the death dealing.

Flashes of light, fire, lightning all rock his fellow Circle members. Prepared for electricity and fire, neither harm the crafty Tenser. Still he knows, as long as one lives the rest can be revived. Then magic, bone chilling cold strikes him once, twice, three times. Proofed against fire and lightning he did not expect this. Still, he fares well and is still able to fight slaying or destroying whatever sort of minions array before him but the foe uses the shadows against Tenser.

Finally, the foe is in his line of sight and he charges forward to strike the murky figure and even lands a blow though he still cannot see the figure as well as he would like to. Then a green ray strikes Tenser in the chest he knows it now, the cold a softening for this finale. No other thoughts pass his mind and his body disintegrates and the mighty Tenser is no more...

A final thought echoes through the bond you once shared with your Masters, Warn Mordenkainen....

Then nothing, nothing at all. The future some if not all wanted has finally come. But is this how they wanted it? The Circle of Eight, the most elite of Wizards of the Flanaess have all been slain so quickly it is unthinkable.