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<blockquote data-quote="the Jester" data-source="post: 7481231" data-attributes="member: 1210"><p>The party once more pays the dwarves guarding the entrance to allow them into the megadungeon. They return to the elevator that they found previously and descend once again, this time throwing the lever all the way down rather than to the middle position. Unlike the first time they took it, nothing guards the first room down. </p><p></p><p>“We could explore...” Flint suggests.</p><p></p><p>“Let's go down,” says Mad Max. “We just killed two owlbears! We're bad ass!”</p><p></p><p>Down they go. </p><p></p><p>The elevator ends its descent in another room of unnaturally smooth stone. Dzedz shakes his head. “Magic must have been involved in this. This ceiling needs supports, but it doesn't have them.” He scowls. </p><p></p><p>A single door leads out. When opened, it reveals a 15' wide passageway heading away. The party forms up into a marching order, with Hungus and Max in the lead, and moves out. Unfortunately, neither of them is very observant, and when they reach a four-way intersection after around 60', they are caught entirely off guard by a sudden flock of stirges. </p><p></p><p>“Not doing this!” says Dzedz. He casts a <em>thunderwave,</em> catching the entire group of stirges, and slays them all with a single spell. </p><p></p><p>Crud shakes his head. “That's impressive!”</p><p></p><p>“I have a thing about stirges.”</p><p></p><p>“Forward?” Flint prompts, and the group advances through the intersection. A short passage ends in a stone door. When they throw it open, they see a chamber that they recognize, with four pillars, each carved with representations of elemental forces. </p><p></p><p>“We've been here,” says Mad Max. </p><p></p><p>Dzedz, who has been mapping, digs out his parchments from their previous expeditions into the dungeon. After a moment, he jabs his finger at one of them. “Here. We're actually pretty close to the thoqqua hole.”</p><p></p><p>“Where to, then?” asks Flint.</p><p></p><p>Mad Max strides to one of the doors leading out of the chamber and throws it open in answer to the halfling's question. Then his face contorts in disgust, and he steps in. “There's bodies in here.” He wrinkles his nose. “Ugh.” He peers at the closest body. “There's something wrong with his ears.”</p><p></p><p>The others follow him into the room, but even as they file in, the bodies in the chamber are starting to jerk and move strangely, not rising, but.... </p><p></p><p>“What the hell?” exclaims Crud. </p><p></p><p>With a wet ripping sound, the heads of the corpses in the chamber detach. Their ears, our heroes belatedly realize, are distended, oversized, and now they begin to flap like the wings of bats. Grotesquely, the heads begin to shriek as they fly towards the adventurers. Benthum seizes up in terror, letting out a low moan. </p><p></p><p>“Agh!” Hungus cries, and swings his maul at the nearest head, missing it cleanly. It bobs and weaves past him, and Flint manages to score a wound on it as it does. Then it gives Dzedz a horrible kiss, pushing a swollen tongue into his mouth. </p><p></p><p>The dwarf wizard pushes away, tripping and falling on his back. He gags. Even with the lack of acuity typical of the dwarven sense of taste, he nearly vomits. </p><p></p><p>Crud calls down the power of his god in a <em>sacred flame,</em> damaging one of the flying heads. Mad Max roars and enters a rage, then smashes another against the wall of the chamber, squishing it and sending blackened brains squirting onto the floor.</p><p></p><p>Two heads remain- then one, as Hungus strikes down the wounded. The party turns their attention on the final one and slays it in a few moments.</p><p></p><p>Dzedz is still coughing and spitting, trying to clear the taste from his mouth. He takes a drink of ale and swishes it around his mouth, then spits it out. </p><p></p><p>“You okay?” asks Mad Max.</p><p></p><p>“I'll be fine,” the dwarf answers, but he's wrong.</p><p></p><p>***</p><p></p><p>The room with the flying heads has no other exits out of it, so the party backtracks to the chamber with the four pillars in it. Two exits that lead from it remain untried- or so it seems, until Dzedz looks again at his other map. “Actually, we've been that way. That passage leads to the thoqqua hole. But we haven't checked out that final door there.”</p><p></p><p>The door opens onto a chamber full of strange smoke. When our heroes enter, they find themselves starting to fall asleep, so they quickly leave the chamber behind. </p><p></p><p>“Are we ready to go back to the city yet?” asks Benthum. </p><p></p><p>Flint smirks. “You know, if we go out through the thoqqua hole, we won't have to pay the dwarves.”</p><p></p><p>Exeunt, stage right.</p><p></p><p>***</p><p></p><p>When the party gets out of the Black Gorge, night has already fallen. The city gates are shut for the night.</p><p></p><p>“Hey, guys!” Mad Max calls to the guards. </p><p></p><p>“Hey, Max,” one of them says.</p><p></p><p>“Any chance you can let us in?”</p><p></p><p>“Ah, sure.”</p><p></p><p>It pays to have a soldier from the Army in your party. There will be times aplenty when this group or another won't be so lucky and will have to wait out the night outside the safety of the walls. But Mad Max is a soldier of the Red Battlet, and there is a code amongst the soldiers. They take care of one another. They are brothers are sisters of a special family, one born not of the blood of the womb but of the blood that they spill in defense of one another. </p><p></p><p>The party disperses into the city, going to the various places that they call home.</p><p></p><p>Despite his hearty constitution, Dzedz doesn't feel very well. His tongue is swollen. And he still can't get that taste out of his mouth.</p><p></p><p>***</p><p></p><p>Speaking of tastes, how about that bean juice? Rich, hearty, hot, and heady. Cafes are all the rage. They are open all over the city, almost as prevalent as taverns. As the fad has taken hold over the last few years, people have experimented with different ways to fix it. Some add the milk of goats or rice; others put in a pad of butter. Some salt it, some put sugar in, a few add a mash of hot peppers. </p><p></p><p>Right now, the fact that the entire supply that is available, or that is likely to be available, is what is stored away in the city has not become much of a factor in its price. There is yet to be a scarcity. Even so, a cup of bean juice averages around one mark in price. </p><p></p><p>For now, though it's a bit on the pricy side, bean juice is within almost everyone's reach, at least once in a while.</p><p></p><p>For now.</p><p></p><p>***</p><p></p><p>Dzedz awakens halfway through the night, gagging on the taste of his own tongue. He is sweaty, feverish. He hawks up a massive loogie, and it is as black as firestone and smells of rot. </p><p></p><p>His head swimming, the dwarf rises, throws on a robe, and stumbles out into the street. He makes his shambling way through the darkness of the nighttime streets of the Lower District up the hill into the lit roads of the Bronze District, and thence to the Black Temple. </p><p></p><p>Dzedz puts himself further into debt.</p><p></p><p>***</p><p></p><p>Anyone remember Hkatha? Hkatha Ilmixie? One of the Heroes of Fandelose during the Fall, who helped save the city and ensure that <em>something</em> survived?</p><p></p><p>Hkatha Ilmixie, founder of the School for Gifted Youngsters, is a noble of one of Fandelose's old lines. The Ilmixie are a house with a somewhat ambiguous reputation. While, yes, Hkatha was a great hero in his day, it is whispered that his line sometimes spontaneously produces tieflings, and everybody knows what that means. </p><p></p><p>Well, if you <em>don't</em>, then let me spell it out for you: At some point in the past, the Ilmixies had dealings with fiends. Probably devils. Sure, they're a human family- except for the occasional spawn that shows their <em>true</em> nature. It's not entirely common; not every generation has one, although Tzizz is only two generations removed from Hkatha, and that young fellow is clearly a tiefling.</p><p></p><p>But we're not talking about Tzizz, not yet. Today, we're talking about Roran- a scion of the house that doesn't have the horns or tail or hooves. No, Roran is full-blooded human, with no taint in him... except that that he might pass down to his descendants, thanks to the dubious choices made by his ancestors. </p><p></p><p>Roran is a young Ilmixie, skilled with a bow. A noble who has spent little time outside the walls, yet fancies himself a ranger (perhaps an urban one?). Eager to prove his worth to his house, to make his grandfather Hkatha proud, Roran has always been somewhat disappointed in his lack of sorcerous potential. He always wanted to be a gifted youngster- to go to that school, to have the natural talents that earned such intense attention from his grandfather. But then, some of those youngsters found their powers too much to deal with. There are even a few, Roran knows, who had to be sent to Professor Whorl's Institute for Study of the Mind when they went mad after their magical abilities first manifested uncontrollably. </p><p></p><p>He never had the potential for sorcery. Instead, he trained in more martial pursuits, following his natural sharp eye and steady hand to the center of the target. His arrows land closer to the center than most, and he got better every year. Yet he was not yet blooded. He was too young to have fought in the war against the Hand, or when the city was breached by the Scarlet Fist. He had not yet taken a turn atop the wall while enemies assaulted Fandelose, but the next time they did, he would. And he would show himself a hero.</p><p></p><p>“Are you listening?” Hkatha asks. </p><p></p><p>“Huh?” Roran snaps out of his daydreaming. </p><p></p><p>Hkatha heaves an exasperated sigh. “Damn it, I'm not repeating myself. Go to the Cerulean Tower and see a man named Lazarus. Tell him I sent you. And help him with his problem.”</p><p></p><p>***</p><p></p><p>Lazarus' problem, of course, is that his colleague Mileen is still missing, and he's increasingly afraid that she isn't coming back. He introduces Roran to Dzedz, Flint, and Carl Hungus, who explain that they have been searching dilligently, to no avail. Innocent whistling and all that. </p><p></p><p>“This is Laharl Umbra,” says Lazarus. “He'll be going with you to help.” Though he doesn't say it, everyone in the room understands that Laharl is also there to make sure that the party is actually doing its job. </p><p></p><p>***</p><p></p><p>Mad Max, meanwhile, is too busy with his day job for adventuring. But he's been giving it a lot of thought, and he's decided that it is time to switch from chain mail to bare-chested manliness. He redesigns his garb to be more metal in the metaphorical sense, while having far less in the literal sense. </p><p></p><p>“I've been channeling my anger lately,” he explains happily to one of his co-workers.*</p><p></p><p>Another pops in. “Hey, did you hear about that new clinic on the edge of town? I hear that the guy who runs it harvests organs from people who die in his care.”</p><p></p><p>“What for?” </p><p></p><p>“I have no idea, but the guy's supposed to be really creepy.”</p><p></p><p>“Ha, sure. What's he gonna do, eat a bunch of livers?”</p><p></p><p>“I wouldn't put it past him.”</p><p></p><p>“Huh. Madness.” Mad Max packs a bowl of hempflower in his pipe. “Let's smoke a bowl.”</p><p></p><p><em><strong>Next Time:</strong></em> Things go horribly wrong in the megadungeon!</p><p></p><p></p><p>*In other words, Max has gone from being a fighter to a fighter/barbarian.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="the Jester, post: 7481231, member: 1210"] The party once more pays the dwarves guarding the entrance to allow them into the megadungeon. They return to the elevator that they found previously and descend once again, this time throwing the lever all the way down rather than to the middle position. Unlike the first time they took it, nothing guards the first room down. “We could explore...” Flint suggests. “Let's go down,” says Mad Max. “We just killed two owlbears! We're bad ass!” Down they go. The elevator ends its descent in another room of unnaturally smooth stone. Dzedz shakes his head. “Magic must have been involved in this. This ceiling needs supports, but it doesn't have them.” He scowls. A single door leads out. When opened, it reveals a 15' wide passageway heading away. The party forms up into a marching order, with Hungus and Max in the lead, and moves out. Unfortunately, neither of them is very observant, and when they reach a four-way intersection after around 60', they are caught entirely off guard by a sudden flock of stirges. “Not doing this!” says Dzedz. He casts a [i]thunderwave,[/i] catching the entire group of stirges, and slays them all with a single spell. Crud shakes his head. “That's impressive!” “I have a thing about stirges.” “Forward?” Flint prompts, and the group advances through the intersection. A short passage ends in a stone door. When they throw it open, they see a chamber that they recognize, with four pillars, each carved with representations of elemental forces. “We've been here,” says Mad Max. Dzedz, who has been mapping, digs out his parchments from their previous expeditions into the dungeon. After a moment, he jabs his finger at one of them. “Here. We're actually pretty close to the thoqqua hole.” “Where to, then?” asks Flint. Mad Max strides to one of the doors leading out of the chamber and throws it open in answer to the halfling's question. Then his face contorts in disgust, and he steps in. “There's bodies in here.” He wrinkles his nose. “Ugh.” He peers at the closest body. “There's something wrong with his ears.” The others follow him into the room, but even as they file in, the bodies in the chamber are starting to jerk and move strangely, not rising, but.... “What the hell?” exclaims Crud. With a wet ripping sound, the heads of the corpses in the chamber detach. Their ears, our heroes belatedly realize, are distended, oversized, and now they begin to flap like the wings of bats. Grotesquely, the heads begin to shriek as they fly towards the adventurers. Benthum seizes up in terror, letting out a low moan. “Agh!” Hungus cries, and swings his maul at the nearest head, missing it cleanly. It bobs and weaves past him, and Flint manages to score a wound on it as it does. Then it gives Dzedz a horrible kiss, pushing a swollen tongue into his mouth. The dwarf wizard pushes away, tripping and falling on his back. He gags. Even with the lack of acuity typical of the dwarven sense of taste, he nearly vomits. Crud calls down the power of his god in a [i]sacred flame,[/i] damaging one of the flying heads. Mad Max roars and enters a rage, then smashes another against the wall of the chamber, squishing it and sending blackened brains squirting onto the floor. Two heads remain- then one, as Hungus strikes down the wounded. The party turns their attention on the final one and slays it in a few moments. Dzedz is still coughing and spitting, trying to clear the taste from his mouth. He takes a drink of ale and swishes it around his mouth, then spits it out. “You okay?” asks Mad Max. “I'll be fine,” the dwarf answers, but he's wrong. *** The room with the flying heads has no other exits out of it, so the party backtracks to the chamber with the four pillars in it. Two exits that lead from it remain untried- or so it seems, until Dzedz looks again at his other map. “Actually, we've been that way. That passage leads to the thoqqua hole. But we haven't checked out that final door there.” The door opens onto a chamber full of strange smoke. When our heroes enter, they find themselves starting to fall asleep, so they quickly leave the chamber behind. “Are we ready to go back to the city yet?” asks Benthum. Flint smirks. “You know, if we go out through the thoqqua hole, we won't have to pay the dwarves.” Exeunt, stage right. *** When the party gets out of the Black Gorge, night has already fallen. The city gates are shut for the night. “Hey, guys!” Mad Max calls to the guards. “Hey, Max,” one of them says. “Any chance you can let us in?” “Ah, sure.” It pays to have a soldier from the Army in your party. There will be times aplenty when this group or another won't be so lucky and will have to wait out the night outside the safety of the walls. But Mad Max is a soldier of the Red Battlet, and there is a code amongst the soldiers. They take care of one another. They are brothers are sisters of a special family, one born not of the blood of the womb but of the blood that they spill in defense of one another. The party disperses into the city, going to the various places that they call home. Despite his hearty constitution, Dzedz doesn't feel very well. His tongue is swollen. And he still can't get that taste out of his mouth. *** Speaking of tastes, how about that bean juice? Rich, hearty, hot, and heady. Cafes are all the rage. They are open all over the city, almost as prevalent as taverns. As the fad has taken hold over the last few years, people have experimented with different ways to fix it. Some add the milk of goats or rice; others put in a pad of butter. Some salt it, some put sugar in, a few add a mash of hot peppers. Right now, the fact that the entire supply that is available, or that is likely to be available, is what is stored away in the city has not become much of a factor in its price. There is yet to be a scarcity. Even so, a cup of bean juice averages around one mark in price. For now, though it's a bit on the pricy side, bean juice is within almost everyone's reach, at least once in a while. For now. *** Dzedz awakens halfway through the night, gagging on the taste of his own tongue. He is sweaty, feverish. He hawks up a massive loogie, and it is as black as firestone and smells of rot. His head swimming, the dwarf rises, throws on a robe, and stumbles out into the street. He makes his shambling way through the darkness of the nighttime streets of the Lower District up the hill into the lit roads of the Bronze District, and thence to the Black Temple. Dzedz puts himself further into debt. *** Anyone remember Hkatha? Hkatha Ilmixie? One of the Heroes of Fandelose during the Fall, who helped save the city and ensure that [i]something[/i] survived? Hkatha Ilmixie, founder of the School for Gifted Youngsters, is a noble of one of Fandelose's old lines. The Ilmixie are a house with a somewhat ambiguous reputation. While, yes, Hkatha was a great hero in his day, it is whispered that his line sometimes spontaneously produces tieflings, and everybody knows what that means. Well, if you [i]don't[/i], then let me spell it out for you: At some point in the past, the Ilmixies had dealings with fiends. Probably devils. Sure, they're a human family- except for the occasional spawn that shows their [i]true[/i] nature. It's not entirely common; not every generation has one, although Tzizz is only two generations removed from Hkatha, and that young fellow is clearly a tiefling. But we're not talking about Tzizz, not yet. Today, we're talking about Roran- a scion of the house that doesn't have the horns or tail or hooves. No, Roran is full-blooded human, with no taint in him... except that that he might pass down to his descendants, thanks to the dubious choices made by his ancestors. Roran is a young Ilmixie, skilled with a bow. A noble who has spent little time outside the walls, yet fancies himself a ranger (perhaps an urban one?). Eager to prove his worth to his house, to make his grandfather Hkatha proud, Roran has always been somewhat disappointed in his lack of sorcerous potential. He always wanted to be a gifted youngster- to go to that school, to have the natural talents that earned such intense attention from his grandfather. But then, some of those youngsters found their powers too much to deal with. There are even a few, Roran knows, who had to be sent to Professor Whorl's Institute for Study of the Mind when they went mad after their magical abilities first manifested uncontrollably. He never had the potential for sorcery. Instead, he trained in more martial pursuits, following his natural sharp eye and steady hand to the center of the target. His arrows land closer to the center than most, and he got better every year. Yet he was not yet blooded. He was too young to have fought in the war against the Hand, or when the city was breached by the Scarlet Fist. He had not yet taken a turn atop the wall while enemies assaulted Fandelose, but the next time they did, he would. And he would show himself a hero. “Are you listening?” Hkatha asks. “Huh?” Roran snaps out of his daydreaming. Hkatha heaves an exasperated sigh. “Damn it, I'm not repeating myself. Go to the Cerulean Tower and see a man named Lazarus. Tell him I sent you. And help him with his problem.” *** Lazarus' problem, of course, is that his colleague Mileen is still missing, and he's increasingly afraid that she isn't coming back. He introduces Roran to Dzedz, Flint, and Carl Hungus, who explain that they have been searching dilligently, to no avail. Innocent whistling and all that. “This is Laharl Umbra,” says Lazarus. “He'll be going with you to help.” Though he doesn't say it, everyone in the room understands that Laharl is also there to make sure that the party is actually doing its job. *** Mad Max, meanwhile, is too busy with his day job for adventuring. But he's been giving it a lot of thought, and he's decided that it is time to switch from chain mail to bare-chested manliness. He redesigns his garb to be more metal in the metaphorical sense, while having far less in the literal sense. “I've been channeling my anger lately,” he explains happily to one of his co-workers.* Another pops in. “Hey, did you hear about that new clinic on the edge of town? I hear that the guy who runs it harvests organs from people who die in his care.” “What for?” “I have no idea, but the guy's supposed to be really creepy.” “Ha, sure. What's he gonna do, eat a bunch of livers?” “I wouldn't put it past him.” “Huh. Madness.” Mad Max packs a bowl of hempflower in his pipe. “Let's smoke a bowl.” [i][b]Next Time:[/b][/i][b][/b] Things go horribly wrong in the megadungeon! *In other words, Max has gone from being a fighter to a fighter/barbarian. [/QUOTE]
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