"Ah, milord Orlan? Something... behind us."
Sir Manfred reorients his shield to cover the back of the party.
"Indeed." Kamris tries to get a better idea of what the beast might be.
"Aye...like most hunters, they be tryin' ta draw us in and cut off our retreat," Orlan speaks in a low, steady tone, "It be alright fer now, though. Keep movin' and I'll guard the front. Yuh guard the back. Yin and the elflin' can stand ready ta send flame or arrow in either direction."
You climb a flight of stairs, walk along a flat bit for a while, climb another flight and come to a mass of webs blocking the tunnel completely.
The noise of something chittering and scrambling along the tunnel behind you seems to be getting closer.
You climb a flight of stairs, walk along a flat bit for a while, climb another flight and come to a mass of webs blocking the tunnel completely.
"Looks like we get no further less'n we burn our way through. Yin, light it up!" Orlan announces.
The noise of something chittering and scrambling along the tunnel behind you seems to be getting closer.
"Manfred, Kamris! Get ready to guard our backs," Orlan says, trading out his throwing axe for his heavier, deadlier waraxe, "We be makin' our stand here." As long as nothing dangerous appears within the webs ahead of them, he leaves those for Yin to destroy. And he moves to the back to stand with Sir Manfred and hold the line while Kamris fires arrows past them.
"Yin, light it up!"
The spider that comes into view behind you is the largest you have ever seen -- the largest you have ever heard of, in fact. It is truly a monstrous creature ... the kind older brothers scare younger siblings with tales of. Its mandibles snap together as it tugs at strands of webbing on the walls of the tunnel and slowly closes in on you.
Kamris grimaces and with a speed born of long years of practice, lets fly two arrows at the beast.
Sir Manfred grits his teeth, steps forward and attacks.
Longsword Attack (1d20+3+1=24) Critical Threat!
Critical confirm: (1d20+3+1=23)
Damage if hit:
Critical hit longsword: (1d8+3+1d8+3=12)
Take that you... creature!
"Gladly" Yin replies to Orlan's words with a smile, purposefully not looking behind her for the time being, a web this huge only meant one thing after all.
Uttering her spell and giving a precise flick of her wrists she unleashes a cone-shaped burst of fire at the web blocking their path.
The spider leaps forward as Manfred strikes and drives itself deeper on to the hedge knight's blade. Its mandibles snap helplessly at the air before it steps two feet back, ready to pounce again. Then it takes one of Kamris' arrows and begins to look truly injured.
The web hisses and pops as it begins to burn. It will take some time for the fire to clear a space to retreat through.
The spider leaps forward as Manfred strikes and drives itself deeper on to the hedge knight's blade. Its mandibles snap helplessly at the air before it steps two feet back, ready to pounce again. Then it takes one of Kamris' arrows and begins to look truly injured.
Even as the creature frees itself from Manfred's blade, Orlan goes on the offensive. The shorter dwarf slips inside its reach to cut off retreat and stall it from pouncing again. His dwarven waraxe glints in the sun as he swings it in a wide arc, aiming for the same legs it would use to leap forward.
"Arrgghhh...take that, yuh wall-crawlin' beast!" he snarls, "Yuh picked the wrong stair ta make yer home!"
Orlan's attack on the spider... (1d20+4=[17,4] = 21 to hit, 1d10+3=[2,3] = 5 damage)
The spider bows for a minute, and slides its bulk back preparing to pounce ... but not before Manfred acts.
Sir Manfred winds up and swings again...
Longsword attack: (1d20+2+3+1=22)
Longsword damage if hit: (1d8+3=9)
With this attack, the spider's legs give out beneath and it crumples to the stone stairs with a thud.
The web continues to burn for another half minute before the last of it disappears in a whisp of smoke.
With this attack, the spider's legs give out beneath and it crumples to the stone stairs with a thud.
"Hah! Well done, boy! We'll make a battelrager out of yuh yet!" Orlan smiles, clapping Sir Manfred on the back.
He looks back at Yin and Kamris and the burning web, shading his eyes against the smoke.
"Well, let's be movin' on before the fire attracts any unwanted attention," he says, resheathing his waraxe on his back, "We should reach the top soon enough. And then we'll catch our wind and see what sign of me cousin we can find..."
Sir Manfred stands almost astonished at the victory over the huge spider, before shaking it off and hurrying up the stairs after the rest of the party.
The last mile of the stairs is mostly tunnel with few opportunities to walk in the open. When you finally emerge from the tunnels, the light blasts your eyes. The sight that greets you when you can see again is an amazing one. You stand at the foot of a stone bridge that connects to a column of stone. This 'spire' is no natural formation and it is beyond the craft of any dwarven clan that you know of. It is a perfect cylinder of stone over 500 feet in height and close to 100' in diameter.
The bridge connects to the spire about 200' from the top and adjoins to a staircase that spirals up around it. Even from here, you can see a portcullis proving that there are rooms within the spire.
Looking below, you can see an enormous valley closed in by mountains on all sides, teaming with life, an mountain lake, a winding river, trees, and not a sign of humanoid inhabitation. There does not seem to be a way down to the valley from here.
Beyond this spire there are other spires but you cannot see from here if they connect to this one in any way.
On the spiral stairs leading up to and past the portcullis, you see shapes that you cannot fully identify. Something hangs from a hook over the stairs near the portcullis. Other shapes ... that seem vaguely like bodies, lie just beyond it.
...You stand at the foot of a stone bridge that connects to a column of stone. This 'spire' is no natural formation and it is beyond the craft of any dwarven clan that you know of. It is a perfect cylinder of stone over 500 feet in height and close to 100' in diameter....The bridge connects to the spire about 200' from the top and adjoins to a staircase that spirals up around it. Even from here, you can see a portcullis proving that there are rooms within the spire....Beyond this spire there are other spires but you cannot see from here if they connect to this one in any way.
"And there be the Foehammer Spires," Orlan reverently speaks, "I wasn't sure'n me kinfolk would ever be layin' eyes on it again. Yet here we are. And me cousin, too, if'n he found his way here."
With his background in stonecutting and engineering, the dwarf quietly contemplates the sheer marvel of the stairs and the bridge for a moment, lost in his own thoughts.
On the spiral stairs leading up to and past the portcullis, you see shapes that you cannot fully identify. Something hangs from a hook over the stairs near the portcullis. Other shapes...that seem vaguely like bodies, lie just beyond it.
Finally, Orlan shakes free of the spell placed upon him from standing in the presence of such a magnificent monument.
"Well...it don't be lookin' particularly welcomin'," he says to the others, "I'm debatin' marchin' on it now before the sun goes down. If'n this is where the goblin riders came from...and I don't be knowin' how it couldn't be...then they'll be less active in the day than the night. So the sun might help ta hide our crossin'...whereas the moonless night would give'em an advantage. Whaddya say, friends? Ready ta reclaim a dwarven throne and find me cousin ta boot?"
Sir Manfred replies; "Of course, milord Orlan. Do we approach openly, or with whatever stealth we might command?" He fingers his horn, eager to blow a resouding note.
Kamris looks at Manfred, "Normally I would suggest stealth. But, it seems that as a group this has not proved particularly effective. Or indeed achievable."
Yin gives a small playful pout at Kamris' words. "Hey, I'm sure we could be stealthy if we wanted to be, but really, where's the fun in that?" She asks with a bright grin, almost always one to pick 'fun' over using skill.
"There don't be seemin' any way ta cross a bridge like that without bein' seen," Orlan says, "So we be goin' openly." He notices Sir Manfred start to lift his horn, but stops him before he can blow a note of challenge. "But...without the musical accompaniment..." he finishes.
"Elflin'? Yuh be leadin' the way. Keep a sharp eye fer traps, whether they be of goblin or dwarven make," he suggests, "I'll follow right behind yuh and lend me own expertise in that area...with regards ta the dwarven craftsmanship, of course...'cause I don't be knowin' nothin' about the crude engineerin' skills of goblins."
"Yin? Yuh stay ta the middle as always, fer yer protection," he continues, "And Sir Manfred will follow behind yuh ta see ta just that..."
"For my protection.. as always" Yin repeats in a low grumble with a roll of her eyes before taking her usual position in the center of the group and throwing a small smile over her shoulder at Manfred.
Sir Manfred replies, "Yes milord Orlan." Somewhat disappointed, he puts his horn away and takes up the rearguard position behind Yin. He smiles back in encouragement to Yin.
Crossing the bridge to the spire stairs is uneventful if you can call walking on a bridge hundreds of feet above a valley unknown to any mapmakers for hundreds of years uneventful. The view of the valley from the bridge is astounding.
The bridge, the spire, and the mountain all seem to be of the same stone and you cannot see a seam between them. As far as Orlan can tell, there is no seam -- the spire, the bridge, and the mountain are one.
The stairs are seven feet wide and spiral up and around the massive column of stone.
Climbing 30' you reach a lowered portcullis but not a particularly heavy one. The winch to raise it is on the outside and easily accessible. From outside the gate, you can see a small room jammed with harnesses and saddles like you saw on the bats two days earlier.
Outside the portcullis, hanging on a huge hook about 12' above the stairs is a bloodied and rotted head with a long beard smeared with what you hope is only mud but may be feces.
Climbing 30' you reach a lowered portcullis but not a particularly heavy one. The winch to raise it is on the outside and easily accessible. From outside the gate, you can see a small room jammed with harnesses and saddles like you saw on the bats two days earlier.
Outside the portcullis, hanging on a huge hook about 12' above the stairs is a bloodied and rotted head with a long beard smeared with what you hope is only mud but may be feces.
With narrowed eyes, Orlan draws the skull-decorated dagger and cuts the rotted head free. He spends a moment or two examining its features, despite the sorry state, hoping to identify it...or, more appropriately, identify that it doesn't belong to Klyndak. Once satisfied that he hasn't found his cousin's decapitated head, he pushes it off the steps and into space, letting it fall from the spire into the valley below.
"Somebody's gonna be payin' fer that grisly trophy, let me be assurin' yuh," he says to the others. Then, he puts away the dagger and grasps the winch, turning it solidly with each pull of his muscled arms. "Let's be headin' inside. I suspect we'll be findin' us some more goblins to slay. And I'm eager ta be doin' the slayin' of 'em..."
Orlan is fairly confident it was not his cousin but also certain it was a dwarf. Few other races can grow such impressive beards and that head displayed.
From here, you can see the room has been used as both a workshop and a storage space. During older times, this would have also been a useful guard post.
The steps continue past the workshop. From your position in front of the portcullis, you can see that what appeared to be bodies, were indeed just that. The bodies of nearly 18 goblins -- many decapitated or missing limbs -- are rotting on the steps. A narrow space has been made to walk between them. Even from here the smell is nauseating.
From here, you can see the room has been used as both a workshop and a storage space. During older times, this would have also been a useful guard post.
The steps continue past the workshop. From your position in front of the portcullis, you can see that what appeared to be bodies, were indeed just that. The bodies of nearly 18 goblins -- many decapitated or missing limbs -- are rotting on the steps. A narrow space has been made to walk between them. Even from here the smell is nauseating.
"Hunh...well...at least somebody's been doin' good work," Orlan notes as he perceives the dead goblins. He notices the expression of disgust on the others' faces as the smell hits them. "Ah...don't worry about it," he advises, "They be smellin' worse when they're alive. It's much better this way. Trust me."
Orlan checks for any other possible exits from the workshop/storeroom. Provided he finds none, he gestures towards the stairs. "Let's be goin' further up then..."
Yin puts her hand over her hand and mouth to help stifle the stink of the corpses a little. "I'm fairly certain they don't stink this badly when they're alive" She murmurs with a frown as she quickly follows the dwarf, wanting to get away from the stench.
Kamris presses ahead grimly.
Sir Manfred stops at the door a moment and flinches from the sight and smell. He has seen people die before in the odd duel, but this...
He hurries on after the party.
Marching order?
Kamris goes first in line.
Kamris:
Above the smell of rotten corpses, you detect the distinct smell of alcohol as well.
"Wait. I smell... something."
Kamris lifts his head rather like a wolf and sniffs the air.
"Some form of liquor."
"Wait. I smell... something....Some form of liquor."
"Hunh...well...sounds like our luck is definitely improvin'," Orlan chuckles, "Kill some goblins. Take the liquor. Has a nice ring ta me ears. And if'n our luck holds out, maybe we'll be findin' the goblins too drunk ta offer much of a fight. I just hope they didn't finish all the liquor..."
Orlan has barely finished suggesting that a feast might be waiting for them up above before a trio of goblins appears 30' up the stairs ahead of you. One holds a lit torch; the other two hold drawn shortbows, the arrows wrapped in cloth. They are lighting the arrows as they step out onto the ledge.
Orlan has barely finished suggesting that a feast might be waiting for them up above before a trio of goblins appears 30' up the stairs ahead of you. One holds a lit torch; the other two hold drawn shortbows, the arrows wrapped in cloth. They are lighting the arrows as they step out onto the ledge.
"Look out!" Orlan growls when he spies the goblin archers ahead, "They be plannin' ta flame the lot of us!" Then he swiftly hurls the throwing axe still in his hand. Despite the distance and difficulty in throwing it uphill, his dwarven hatred for goblins fuels the throw with an extra measure of power behind it.
Orlan's handaxe penetrates the skull of one goblin ... he twists and turns with it and then falls over the edge of the spire with it still embedded in his head. The other goblin giggles as his rag covered arrow catches flame.
At hearing the news of the alcohol Yin opens her mouth to correct the dwarf, spirits and no sounds of merriment usually meaning someone was planning a big fire. The goblins appearing however makes the point abundantly clear. Frowning deeply she glares at the creatures 'Damn goblins, playing with fire is my job'
Incanting a spell she releases it with a pale face and a disturbed shudder, her usual ray of fire instead taking on a pale and icy hue.
Orlan's handaxe penetrates the skull of one goblin ... he twists and turns with it and then falls over the edge of the spire with it still embedded in his head. The other goblin giggles as his rag covered arrow catches flame.
"HEY! Where yuh be goin' with me axe, yuh little..." Orlan curses as he leans over and helplessly watches the goblin fall into the abyss. He glares back at the remaining goblins, his blood running almost as cold as the icy ray Yin fires past him.
"I'll have yuh know that was a finely made dwarven axe from the Sharpenblade clan and it cost me aplenty ta buy one, yuh thievin' bastards!" he yells, "Now I'll be takin' the price of it outta yer measley backsides, sure'n I'm a Hammerfoe!"
He draws his waraxe this time and starts up the stairs with his shield held before him. A howl of dwarven rage accompanies his assault with every step. He only hopes Yin and Kamris can cover him long enough for him to reach the top. But even if they can't, it seems little will blunt his determined charge.
The giggling goblin with the second arrow crumples to the ground as he is hit by the cold. That leaves one goblin holding a torch. He pitches the torch down the stairs at the pile of bodies, which go up almost instantly.
Orlan and Yintarah have avoided taking any damage from the fire. Orlan has ended up in front of the pyre and Yintarah behind.
The giggling goblin with the second arrow crumples to the ground as he is hit by the cold. That leaves one goblin holding a torch. He pitches the torch down the stairs at the pile of bodies, which go up almost instantly.
"Ohhh...yer gonna regret that," Orlan snarls.
Sir Manfred is driven back a step by the sudden wall of flame blocking his path forward and separating he and Yin from the battle.
Cursing under his breath, he looks to see a way around, over or through the pyre while giving Yin cover from attacks with his shield. Perhaps he could shove the bodies off the stair...
Sir Manfred is driven back a step by the sudden wall of flame blocking his path forward and separating he and Yin from the battle.
Cursing under his breath, he looks to see a way around, over or through the pyre while giving Yin cover from attacks with his shield. Perhaps he could shove the bodies off the stair...
The creature that threw the torch looks ready to dodge back into the opening from which it came.
Kamris dodges aside, being only mildly singed by the conflagration. e tries to sort out in his mind what to do.
Kamris dodges aside, being only mildly singed by the conflagration. e tries to sort out in his mind what to do.
"Put an arrow in 'im, elflin'! 'Fore he warns his whole tribe..."