Hope you all enjoy this lil rplay tale. Both myself and Artikerus decided after some interesting rplay run-ins wed put togther alil story. We both had fun writing it, he wrote his parts and i wrote mine.
Enjoy all.
Nilan
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It was sometime since Nilan left his Barbarian friend heading northward back to the cold winds of Icewind Dale. Ever since the forest near Skeldrach Lake, the drow felt a presence, something he could not explain, following him, tracking him. Try as he might, the assassin could not shake his pursuer. He kept his feelings silent, not wanting to concern his barbarian friend, Turji, with his own problems and dealings. The barbarian sensed something, but respected the drow enough not to press the issue. Now, Nilan traced his steps back toward Skeldrach Lake. Something was following him, watching, waiting….and Nilan, ever a master at his dark art, knew the importance of dealing with trackers…before they got to close.
The assassin growled in exasperation. For six hours, the drow traversed the area searching for signs of his pursuer. Nilan sighed heavily, leaning against the trunk of a huge oak tree. The sounds of the forest assaulted his senses from every direction. Sounds that the drow, who had spent most of his years in the Underdark, was not familiar with. Nilan placed a hand at the dagger on his waist. His keen eyes darted in and out of the shadowed forest, searching for any type of movement. But there was none. Cursing the drow moved onward, deeper into the forested grove, unaware that a shadowed figured dogged his every step.
Hours passed and dawn was approaching. Though shadowed beneath the branches of the huge trees, the flickering light interfered with the drow’s vision. “Buki ta'ecelle”, the assassin growled, pulling his cloak over his head to better shield his eyes from the painful glare. Still he moved onward, staying as close to the trees as he could, to keep out of sight from whatever was watching.
His eyes focused upon an indentation in the muddy ground up ahead. Nilan cautiously approached the area, satisfied he was safe, the assassin dared to leave the thick brush to venture out into the shady clearing. Nilan dropped to one knee and inspected the ground. A pair of tracks, heavy armored booted ones were scattered about the clearing. Nilan grumbled to himself further scanning the ground before him. His eyes narrowed as he made out the shape of a thin narrow booted track. Tracing his ebon skinned fingers over the footprint, he noted that it barely made a depression in the soft dirt. Nilan shivered suddenly. This was not the boot print of a Duergar. This was the mark of a lithe creature, agile and quick, light on its feet. Nilan felt the hair on the back of his neck prickle and a slight tremor ran up his spine.
Removing the hood, Nilan glanced around the clearing. Strands of stark white hair not fastened within his long braid brushed against his cheek. Suddenly the clearing was deathly silent. Too silent. Something was wrong…..
Nilan heard the whistle of the arrow but it was too late. The drow was off balance rising to his feet when the arrow tore through his side hurtling him backwards. The drow managed to twist his body, avoiding a fatal shot that would have ripped into his abdomen. As it was, the long shafted arrow, grated painfully against his hip, and the assassin cried out in pain. Another arrow pierced the ground inches from his head, and Nilan forced himself to stand, hurtling his injured body into the dense brush surrounding the area. Arrows rained down upon the clearing. Nilan leaned heavily against a tree, his hands shook as he wrapped them around the deadly shaft. Clenching his teeth, the drow attempted to tear the arrow free. Blood poured from the wound and Nilan could not suppress a cry of agony. His ebon hands were slick with blood and the arrow did not come free. “Barbed”, the assassin muttered and tried to stand. Panting heavily, Nilan broke the shaft shorting its length and with great difficultly rose to his feet. Bloody hands grabbed the tree for support and the assassin closed his eyes tightly struggling not to black out.
****
Drulokerus and Ssixxizzirrill appeared deep within the woods, not far from the wounded drow. A slight rustle of brush announced that they had indeed found their target, the premier scout of the Blindhammer Clan.
Ssixxizzirrill waved a single tentacle in frustration, sending out mindwaves in all directions, sensing the danger of the area. "This is not a safe area," it imparted to Drulokerus as the scout and the shade of a slain duergar exited a thick copse of bushes.
Drulokerus waved the bothering illithid away. "Release yer shade to me, Barikerus and be goin with the squid," ordered Drulokerus.
The scout, nephew to Drulokerus, older brother to Dralerikerus, saluted and nodded, standing obediently beside the illithid. He spat at its robed body, barely missing. Both duergar shared a snicker at the illithid’s waving tentacles. A rift opened up before them. The shade began to slowly float forward, stopping a few yards away as the limit of its own power reined it in. The dagger, the only physical part of its body, throbbed with a faint blue light. Drulokerus turned to it as the scout and illithid stepped through the rift.
Drulokerus uttered an arcane phrase, releasing the shade from its limiting bond, free to again hunt and find the drow. "Damn elf's gotta be near here anyways. I best be letting' 'em know not to be getting' into any more trouble."
As soon as the magical leash was removed, the shade began to float deeper into the woods, the dagger pulsing blue with greater intensity as it headed deeper within.
***
“He went into the brush,” came a cry.
Nilan heard the rustle of armored feet heading his way. Gritting his teeth, the assassin moved deeper into the shadows of the forest. He staggered twice, falling to his knees.
Another voice, melodic and cold, filtered through the trees. “Here, I hit him. The drow’s hurt, hurt bad by the looks of it. Piergieron will have his prize and his daughter’s remains will be with him by nightfall.”
Nilan heard the voice and staggered to his feet. They were closing in on him. With a shaking hand, he tore two throwing daggers from the bandolier fastened across his chest. Nilan suppressed a cry of pain as he tried to position himself so that he had a clear view of those entering the woods from the clearing. His leg was warm and sticky as blood poured from the wound in his side. Nilan swooned, his vision fading with the loss of blood. Clutching the blades tightly in his hand, his eyes focused on the clearing entrance.
Suddenly a figure came into view. Nilan glared coldly in the direction of the paladin. Another figure gracefully entered the shaded brush several yards behind the holy warrior. The half-elf stopped, holding his position. Already a wicked barbed arrow was notched, the bow string pulled back. The ranger’s elven eyes were seeking him, of that the drow was sure. Nilan knew he had to break from the trees in order to get a clean throw. Slowly the drow moved into position. The paladin was alert, however every now and then the drow noted that his gaze went to the forest floor, presumably looking for tracks or blood stains. Closer and closer the paladin approached. Nilan tensed suddenly as the holy warrior’s full form came into view. Tall, strong and heavily armored, this human bore the crest and seal of Waterdeep upon his breastplate. A huge two-handed sword was within his hands. Nilan recognized the human for what he was. A paladin, in Lord Piergieron’s Army.
Nilan winced suddenly, his side throbbing painfully. The assassin knew he could not out run them. He would deal with the paladin first…and then…the ranger. Breathing heavily, the drow burst from the thick brush. Already one dagger had left his hand and was streaking toward the human’s chest. He heard the ranger yell a warning and saw the human turn. The dagger harmlessly flew by the dodging paladin, embedding itself in the tree behind his head.
For a brief moment their eyes met. Cold hatred seethed in both men’s orbs. Nilan staggered, his right leg collapsing as it tried to bear his weight. The ranger drew back on the bow and let the arrow fly. But not before the assassin’s second blade was streaking toward its target. Nilan, off balance and in mid throw, could not avoid the arrow. He twisted his body as best he could, a scream of ragged agony burst from his lips, as the arrow ripped through his arm. The drow felt himself falling, unsure if his dagger ever reached its target.
***
Drulokerus grumbled something as he cautiously stepped towards the elven ranger wielding the lethal bow. The shade continued on its unerring path towards the drow, soon to pass right before the archer. As he expected, the archer saw the shade, and with a gasp, drew a tight bead with his bow on the undead being. He released the arrow, watching with amazement as it passed through the misty form of the shade into the woods beyond.
"HEY! Watch out," yelled a voice from further within the woods where the arrow had been shot.
The archer struggled to pull another arrow from his quiver, unnerved at the appearance at such an unnatural being. Drulokerus veritably cackled in the Elf's ear as he brought his wicked axe down, severing the elf's arm at the elbow. The elf screamed in pain as he turned around, seeing Drulokerus for the first time. Drulokerus promptly slammed his forehead into the elf's face, silencing the scream. The elf crumpled to the ground, dropping his bow. Drulokerus hefted his axe again and swung it home, silencing the scream forever.
***
The paladin moved on the drow quickly and Nilan gasped clawing at the ground to put some distance between himself and the enraged holy warrior. The arrow in his right arm caught itself on the overgrown brush and the drow shuddered in agony, twisting the bloody shaft free of the twigs. Still the paladin closed in on him and Nilan desperately pulled a dagger from his sheath. The slash came in hard and the assassin futilely attempted the parry the holy blade. His arm went numb as the dagger flew from his grasp. A heavy armored boot pressed down on his chest, painfully ceasing all struggles.
“Time to die, drow,” the paladin snickered as he raised the gleaming blade for the killing blow.
Nilan winced, and glared coldly up into the eyes of the paladin. “Dos inbal nau ul'hyrr vel'bol ol zhah dos xun.” The drow gasped, the heavy armored boot making it difficult to breathe. “Jal usstan ssinssrinil ulu xun zhahus ulu xxizz l'ilythiiri dalhar lueth piergieron's dalharil.”
The assassin spit at the boot pinning his chest and then stoically turned away, not wanting to see the blade being thrust.
***
The shade, meanwhile, had unerringly found the clearing where the drow, injured and bleeding badly, was still held under the boot of the paladin from Waterdeep. As the shade came into view, the holy warrior released his boot from the drow’s chest and turned to face this new, unnatural creature.
Nilan gasped suddenly taking in as much air as his lungs would allow. His vision swirled and dizziness assaulted him as he fought to sit up. He clutched at the wound at his side, blood staining his hands, the assassin collapsed back to ground, his strength failing.
The paladin spun as the shade reached the clearing, brandishing a blade towards the evil creature. Eyes wide, but wholly confidant, the holy warrior strode forward to meet the undead beast. Attacking first, he swung his sword in a wide arc. It slowed as it passed through the shade, as if parting water. The paladin grunted as his blade hit the ground and withdrew as the shade continued forward, its red eyes glowing with a fierce inner light.
"Begone!" commanded the Paladin, invoking the power of his holy god.
The shade shuttered and slowed, but did not stop its advance. A small wisp of smoke trailed behind the shade.
"Evil creature,” the paladin shouted, “by the power of Tyr and of all things holy, I command you to BEGONE!"
The power of the holy god was too much for the shade, whose strength was nearly spent since the time of its creation. The shade faded into smoke, and floated away. The dagger, glowing with a fierce blue light, fell to the ground.
Muttering in satisfaction the paladin strode confidently back to the wounded drow. Glancing down at the dark elf, the holy warrior spat, prodding him with the toe of his armored boot. "You are a drow, and that alone sentences you to die," spat the paladin, kicking the assassin, who lay very still in a puddle of his own blood. "And you harbor undead beings, and that dooms you as well." Raising his sword for the killing blow the paladin glared down at the unconscious drow. “May hell welcome your dark soul.”
"And ye speak like a drunken orc puffin' on 'is own copper pieces.." said Drulokerus, fading into view, straddling Nilan's barely breathing body. The paladins eyes widened in surprise. "And now ye die, just like yer ranger friend." Drulokerus raised his bloody, double bladed axe to his lips, licking the fast drying blood.
"You!!!" the paladin stammered, backing away from the fallen drow and slowly bringing his own blade in front of him. The shock slowly left the paladin’s face as he looked at his foe, hardly measuring four feet in height. The paladin smirked and whistled loudly. Drulokerus ignored the crashing sound of hooves, and was not surprised when a large white warhorse entered the clearing. Mounting the horse, the holy warrior slowly circled the short dark dwarf.
"Ye bringin' me dinner too? Ye' be too kind to yer own enemies!" Drulokerus smiled. He glanced down at Nilan. "Well, to some of 'em at least." He smirked at the paladin, who spurred his horse into a charge at the dwarf. Using another of the innate abilities of the duergar, learned after eons of torture and servitude to the mind flayers of the underdark, Drulokerus enlarged his body, growing to nearly 7 feet. His muscles bulged with magical strength as he flexed, bringing his blade over his head, and quickly bringing it down, severing the horse's head and unceremoniously dismounting the holy warrior.
The horse’s body slammed into Drulokerus, sending him flying over the wounded drow into a tree. Drulokerus bounced to his feet, shaking the cobwebs from his head. He had barely regained his focus when he was forced to dive to the side, dodging the enraged paladin's swipe. Drulokerus rolled to his feet and brought his axe up defensively, deflecting another swipe of the paladin's blade. He stepped in and bodied the paladin, forcing him back with his now equally sizeable girth. The duergar head butted the paladin's platemail, creasing one side of the breastplate. Drulokerus grinned evilly at the human, who pushed him out to arm's length, breaking the deadly embrace.
"Yer' losin yer head!" taunted Drulokerus, swinging his blade out wide in front of him, purposely keeping the swing slow. He watched the paladin measure his speed and his range, and even swung again, keeping the paladin's own blade at bay. Drulokerus slowly slipped his hands higher on the shaft of his axe.
The paladin roared and charged forward, bringing his blade in a downward slice that would have cleaved the evil dwarf in half where he stood. Anticipating the attack, Drulokerus took a single step to the side and brought his blade to bear on the paladin’s hind quarters, severing a hamstring. He smirked and took two steps past the falling paladin, reveling in the shriek of pain.
***
Drulokerus turned to the drow, who barely breathed at all. He muttered to himself. "Arti won't be likin' if I let ye die, elf. Maybe now ye'll be appreciatin' Blindhammer help.”
Drulokerus pulled off his pack and took out a tattered scroll. He opened it and recited the arcane runes. A small portal opened, glowing with a faint green light. Within the portal, Drulokerus could make out many kobolds, ugly goblin kin good for nothing but fodder. He poked his head through and whistled, waving for Artikerus to come by.
Muttering to himself, Artikerus popped through the portal, shaking his head as a wave of nausea assaulted the portal hopping King of Gloomhaven. "What?" he demanded, overly annoyed at being interrupted while dealing with someone as frustratingly incompetent as the kobold leader, Gwark.
Drulokerus merely pointed at the injured drow. He moved to the paladin, who was trying to crawl away. He placed a heavy boot on the paladins back, holding him in place.
Artikerus snickered softly to himself and approached the elf. He quickly chanted a small spell of healing, and immediately the bleeding began to stop. The labored breathing of the drow faded to normal, and the wounds closed around the shafts of the barbed arrows. He snickered and looked at Drulokerus, who looked down at the paladin, very amused as he wiggled under the Dwarfs boot. Drulokerus promptly sat down on the pinned paladins back. He waved for Artikerus to continue.
Artikerus snickered again and took a firm grasp on the first arrow embedded in the drow’s side. The healing power of the king's spell had allowed the assassin to almost fully drift into unconsciousness. Artikerus planted a boot on Nilan’s chest bringing with it a semi-conscious moan. With a chuckle the King of Gloomhaven wrenched the barbed arrow free. Nilan shrieked in pain, his body convulsing before he slipped into total darkness. The wound caused by the wicked barbed arrow bled freely staining the ground where the drow lay. Artikerus and Drulokerus both guffawed loudly, Drulokerus nearly tumbling from his perch on the downed paladins' back. Artikerus wiped tears from his eyes and grabbed the second arrow, and with a second burst of laughter, tore it, too, free of the drow's arm. Another gush of blood erupted and again the elf's breathing came in short, ragged gasps, labored and thick with blood. The dwarven laughter went on for several minutes. Finally, Artikerus stood and enacted another, more powerful spell of healing. Nilan shuddered as the magical properties of the healing spell racked his body, forcing tissue and skin to mend together in rapid speed. Soon, all of the wounds were healed and the drow slept peacefully on his grassy bed.
***
Drulokerus still sat on the paladin, who had stopped wiggling so much and was now pleading to his god, to any god, for assistance against these "vile creatures". Artikerus waved for his brother to get up. With a grunt, Drulokerus forced his weight down on the injured paladin, and then rolled to his feet. He approached Artikerus, smiling broadly.
"Ye got gate duty. Get to it." That wiped the smile off Drulokerus' face, bringing a severe grimace to the dwarf's gnarled face. He began to mutter as he adjusted a small ring on his hand, and disappeared from view, returning to Glomhaven.
Artikerus smirked as his brother departed. He approached the paladin, who clutched at his torn leg. Artikerus unstrapped his hammer from his back and kneeled before the paladin.
"That don't be looking' good," Artikerus admitted. The paladin glared at him, and again began to cry for his god to aid him. Artikerus fumbled on his belt and pulled out a small spike. He took up his hammer, near to the head, and placed the pin on the man's wrist. "Hold still." Artikerus grumbled, and brought his hammer to bear, driving the pin deep into flesh and ground. The paladin cried in pain, sobbing and calling out for help. Artikerus pulled another pin out, driving it into the other wrist. The cries quickly became howls. Artikerus pulled another pin and pinned the man's only good leg in the same fashion. He then took his seat in front of the paladin and watched as the man cried and cried for help.
Artikerus snickered as he heard the drow stir and slowly rise to his feet. Nilan staggered, each step brought with it throbbing pain. The bandages were tight and secure and the assassin shot a cold glare toward the dwarf.
“I suppose I’m grateful for your trackers. But from this point on, dwarf, call them off.” Nilan glared are the dwarf as he slowly approached the tortured paladin.
“Either kill him or release him.” The assassin muttered. “Is torture really necessary?” Nilan despised torture and those that employed such methods.
The King of Gloomhaven only snickered and watched as the drow moved toward him. "Yer dagger's in the tree. Ye shouldn't be killin' the plants when yer hunted by these.." he ended the statement with an accusing finger at the paladin.
Nilan said nothing and moved to retrieve his dagger from the tree. He also picked up the blade on the ground, the dagger that he had used to murder one of Artikerus' own scouts.
"We're going to Gloomhaven, me and ye. After I finish this one, unless ye want him?" Artikerus turned to look at the drow, who flexed his hands and shifted his weight from one foot to the other, testing the healing spells that had revived him. Hate showed evident in the assassin's eyes, but instead of acting he merely shrugged and slowly walked away, not caring to watch or be involved in the duergar’s butchery.
"I be hopin' ye'd say that." Artikerus clambered to his feet and stood between the paladins pinned hands. He held his hammer low, aiming the shot. With a mighty sideways swing, Artikerus drove his hammer through the paladins' skull. A blast of lightning sent the charred head flying into the trees, leaving nothing but a pinned, decapitated corpse smolderin in the early daylight. Artikerus snickered softly. "I love when I be doing that." He turned to Nilan, who only spat in disgust. "Shall we, elf?"
Artikerus moved close to the assassin and uttered a word of recall. He and the elf arrived with a poof in the Halls of Gloom. The drow looked around quickly, closing his eyes momentarily so they would adjust to the underdark. When he opened his eyes, Artikerus was already moving towards a pair of hairy, white beasts known as quaggoths. Artikerus turned back and winked. "Ye may want to get ye a room somewhere. I ain't fed these two this week." Nilan blanched at the thought of passing between the two monsters, and Artikerus guffawed loudly at him. Nilan frowned, turning, he stalked out of the Temple of Gloomhaven. His body ached and he needed rest.
The King of Gloomhaven called after him as he left the hall. "And don't ye be worryin'. I'll be keeping' me savin' yer tail a secret, as long as ye do what I been telling ye to do!!"
Nilan clutched the dagger at his waist, proudly sauntering out of the Halls of Gloomhaven, never once looking back.
Allies or Enemies...
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Clan Blindhammer
- Sojourner
- Posts: 255
- Joined: Wed Dec 18, 2002 6:01 am
<BLOCKQUOTE><font size="1" face="Verdana, Arial">quote:</font><HR><font face="Verdana, Arial" size="2">Originally posted by Nilan:
He held his hammer low, aiming the shot. With a mighty sideways swing, Artikerus drove his hammer through the paladins' skull. A blast of lightning sent the charred head flying into the trees, leaving nothing but a pinned, decapitated corpse smolderin in the early daylight. Artikerus snickered softly. "I love when I be doing that." </font><HR></BLOCKQUOTE>
Nilan edited out the part where Artikerus yells "FOUR!" So you know, the head landed in a sandtrap, -1 penalty. Gawd Damned Bogies.
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King Artikerus Blindhammer
Patron of Clan Blindhammer
Fallen Priest of Shimmergloom
[This message has been edited by Clan Blindhammer (edited 01-13-2003).]
He held his hammer low, aiming the shot. With a mighty sideways swing, Artikerus drove his hammer through the paladins' skull. A blast of lightning sent the charred head flying into the trees, leaving nothing but a pinned, decapitated corpse smolderin in the early daylight. Artikerus snickered softly. "I love when I be doing that." </font><HR></BLOCKQUOTE>
Nilan edited out the part where Artikerus yells "FOUR!" So you know, the head landed in a sandtrap, -1 penalty. Gawd Damned Bogies.
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King Artikerus Blindhammer
Patron of Clan Blindhammer
Fallen Priest of Shimmergloom
[This message has been edited by Clan Blindhammer (edited 01-13-2003).]
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Clan Blindhammer
- Sojourner
- Posts: 255
- Joined: Wed Dec 18, 2002 6:01 am
Drulokerus stifled another yawn as he stood in the gatehouse, idly watching the other gateguards as they in turn watched the gates. "Gate duty," muttered Drulokerus, rolling his eyes as he thought of his brother, King Artikerus, who had punished him with such a position. He walked out of the gatehouse and approached the gate, shoving one gateguard out of the way. The gateguard laid sprawled on the ground, but did not mutter or grumble as his commander stepped by. Although the cowering gateguard was of the same age as Drulokerus, he was not of the same clan and was truly only in his position out of the good graces of the unpredictable, ruthless, and normally bigotted Blindhammers. The Trilk clansmen, once of the clan that reigned over Gloomhaven, clambered to his feet, sighing softly to himself as he watched Drulokerus insert a mithril key into the gate, locking it. He was careful to avert his eyes as his commander, and "better", stepped past, although his eyes eagerly sought his back as he went by. How much he wished to place a dagger between those shoulder blades! But alas, survival is the utmost important aspect to any living Duergar, and guided the Trilk clansmen to safety once again. "One day..." he muttered, and resumed his stance before the gates.
Drulokerus muttered as he walked back to the gatehouse. "Damned Trilks." He placed the key back on it's chain and replaced the chain around his neck. He sighed softly again and sat down on a carved-mushroom stool. "Damned gates.." he muttered again, staring once again back at the great gates of Gloomhaven....
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King Artikerus Blindhammer
Patron of Clan Blindhammer
Fallen Priest of Shimmergloom
Drulokerus muttered as he walked back to the gatehouse. "Damned Trilks." He placed the key back on it's chain and replaced the chain around his neck. He sighed softly again and sat down on a carved-mushroom stool. "Damned gates.." he muttered again, staring once again back at the great gates of Gloomhaven....
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King Artikerus Blindhammer
Patron of Clan Blindhammer
Fallen Priest of Shimmergloom
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