Shaddar is thinking about the magic in this world while sitting in his study that evening. The magic of the globes of light that seem to act as an alarm. The magic that the knight seemed to posses. The magic combined with mental power that brought him here to this pocket dimension – this Realm.
“It is good that I have studied the arcane arts myself. But I lack the depth in the arcane that is required to pry out the secrets of all of these things. It is a pity that I have no mentor here to continue my studies,” he thinks, “Perhaps I can find one and force him to teach me? Yes. I will look for ways to solve this weakness in my skill set. Somehow…”
His internal musings are interrupted as he detects the approach of several minds. Ah, ha! Again, it seems that some fish are swimming into his baited trap.
Drow this time. Six of them. But his mind-bent zealot, Halvyr, is not among those that approach. Interesting.
Friday, December 14, 2012
Crossover - Chapter 33
As dusk begins to fade the sky, Shaddar senses a more interesting visitor approach the meadhall. This man is not seeking a tankard of frothy ale. No, he has come to report to the Boss!
It only takes a few seconds before the man enters. Shaddar listens to the conversation going on the floor below him by tapping into the thoughts of both the men now in the room.
His captain of grand larceny calls a greeting out to Hawke, who is at the bar, “Hawke.”
Hawke nods a greeting in return, “Helmnald. Have an ale?”
The man shakes his head. He quickly smiles and speaks his answer aloud for the benefit of the blind barkeep, “No. I’m here to see someone.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah. I need to talk to… the Boss.”
A slight pause follows this that indicates reflection on Hawke’s part. “Have a seat. I’ll call for him.”
It only takes a few seconds before the man enters. Shaddar listens to the conversation going on the floor below him by tapping into the thoughts of both the men now in the room.
His captain of grand larceny calls a greeting out to Hawke, who is at the bar, “Hawke.”
Hawke nods a greeting in return, “Helmnald. Have an ale?”
The man shakes his head. He quickly smiles and speaks his answer aloud for the benefit of the blind barkeep, “No. I’m here to see someone.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah. I need to talk to… the Boss.”
A slight pause follows this that indicates reflection on Hawke’s part. “Have a seat. I’ll call for him.”
Sunday, December 9, 2012
Crossover - Chapter 32
“A productive day already,” Shaddar thinks as he climbs the stairs to the third floor, “and it is not yet mid-afternoon!” His mind is filled with plans.
If Vicacilli’s spirit is not completely broken after his ordeal is over (and his screams and moans can be faintly heard still – so that moment has not yet arrived), then Shaddar may be able to make further use of the man. He will wait and see if the human’s mind survives, before he makes that decision. And he will need to take into account the desires of Hawke in that determination.
Shaddar is a bit amazed at the mental metamorphosis that has occurred in Hawke. His thought process is subtly different – most likely a reversion to a buried aspect of his personality that withered into insignificance while his talents and aspirations were focused on merely being a blind bartender. It is as if he has become a new man. A man focused on wreaking a terrible revenge against the Guildmaster of the Guild of Villains – a goal that Shaddar heartily approves of.
“Nothing like the ‘dark winds of change’ to liven up a man’s spirit,” Shaddar thinks with mirth.
His high spirits fade quickly as he sets foot on the third floor. Jorin and Bort are still having a whispered argument and Shaddar’s anger at the stupidity of Jorin during his interview with the constables is returning.
He mentally listens to them before entering their room for a moment.
Bort is trying in vain to convince his friend that he has blundered. “I’m telling you, Jorin, the Boss is really mad at you.”
If Vicacilli’s spirit is not completely broken after his ordeal is over (and his screams and moans can be faintly heard still – so that moment has not yet arrived), then Shaddar may be able to make further use of the man. He will wait and see if the human’s mind survives, before he makes that decision. And he will need to take into account the desires of Hawke in that determination.
Shaddar is a bit amazed at the mental metamorphosis that has occurred in Hawke. His thought process is subtly different – most likely a reversion to a buried aspect of his personality that withered into insignificance while his talents and aspirations were focused on merely being a blind bartender. It is as if he has become a new man. A man focused on wreaking a terrible revenge against the Guildmaster of the Guild of Villains – a goal that Shaddar heartily approves of.
“Nothing like the ‘dark winds of change’ to liven up a man’s spirit,” Shaddar thinks with mirth.
His high spirits fade quickly as he sets foot on the third floor. Jorin and Bort are still having a whispered argument and Shaddar’s anger at the stupidity of Jorin during his interview with the constables is returning.
He mentally listens to them before entering their room for a moment.
Bort is trying in vain to convince his friend that he has blundered. “I’m telling you, Jorin, the Boss is really mad at you.”
Friday, December 7, 2012
AAR: December 1, 2012 - Rain of Fire
Tuesday, November 27, 2012
Crossover - Chapter 31
Shaddar stares at the sweating figure sitting before him. Vicacili can not return his stare and casts his eyes downward.
The man speaks, “Will you allow me to join your organization?”
“Let me think on that for a few hours,” Shaddar says slowly.
“In the meantime, put him with the other prisoners,” he says to Toothsnatcher. Tell Loolipo to allow him to freely converse with the others and examine the bodies of his worthless lackeys. I wish him to experience and learn while he waits – such that he will fully appreciate the stupidity of his insulting assault upon my person and those under my dominion.” The minotaur grunts and jerks the man up out of his seat, by the neck. As Vicacili is hustled out of the room, he cries out, but wisely says no more.
Shaddar spends a few moments savoring the roiling and churning thoughts of the “special agent to the Guildmaster of the Guild of Villains.” Ha! If this is an example of their specialist then his plans will proceed much faster than he initially believed.
Toying with the creature when he had no clue that his every thought was being dissected during the interrogation was a rare treat. Since none in this city seem to know what he is, none of them know about his profound mental abilities. He resolves to keep it that way for as long as possible. What an advantage it gives him!
The man speaks, “Will you allow me to join your organization?”
“Let me think on that for a few hours,” Shaddar says slowly.
“In the meantime, put him with the other prisoners,” he says to Toothsnatcher. Tell Loolipo to allow him to freely converse with the others and examine the bodies of his worthless lackeys. I wish him to experience and learn while he waits – such that he will fully appreciate the stupidity of his insulting assault upon my person and those under my dominion.” The minotaur grunts and jerks the man up out of his seat, by the neck. As Vicacili is hustled out of the room, he cries out, but wisely says no more.
Shaddar spends a few moments savoring the roiling and churning thoughts of the “special agent to the Guildmaster of the Guild of Villains.” Ha! If this is an example of their specialist then his plans will proceed much faster than he initially believed.
Toying with the creature when he had no clue that his every thought was being dissected during the interrogation was a rare treat. Since none in this city seem to know what he is, none of them know about his profound mental abilities. He resolves to keep it that way for as long as possible. What an advantage it gives him!
Crossover - Chapter 30
Shaddar takes his time reaching the second floor, carefully wiping his tentacles and face with a handkerchief to remove the blood and other remnants of his most recent meal. Vicacili watches him with wide eyes, wheezing with just enough breath to remain conscious – all that the heavy minotaur foot on his belly will let him draw. Shaddar tucks the handkerchief back up one sleeve and nods to the thrall.
Toothsnatcher lifts his foot off of the man’s body and he inhales a deep, shuddering breath.
“Men! Up here! To me!” Vicacili calls hoarsely.
Shaddar taps his fingers together as he responds to this outburst almost gently, “Your men are dead.” As he speaks Loolipo and Cutt walk past, bowing their heads respectfully to their master and head down to do the work Shaddar has ordered in cleaning up.
Vicacili listens intently for a moment and hears absolutely nothing. His face pales as he glances to one side and sees the pair of heads from two of his men, sitting where they finally came to rest after their removal by Toothsnatcher’s huge axe.
His eyes snap back to Shaddar’s fearful countenance and he stammers, “Who… Who are you? What are you?”
Toothsnatcher lifts his foot off of the man’s body and he inhales a deep, shuddering breath.
“Men! Up here! To me!” Vicacili calls hoarsely.
Shaddar taps his fingers together as he responds to this outburst almost gently, “Your men are dead.” As he speaks Loolipo and Cutt walk past, bowing their heads respectfully to their master and head down to do the work Shaddar has ordered in cleaning up.
Vicacili listens intently for a moment and hears absolutely nothing. His face pales as he glances to one side and sees the pair of heads from two of his men, sitting where they finally came to rest after their removal by Toothsnatcher’s huge axe.
His eyes snap back to Shaddar’s fearful countenance and he stammers, “Who… Who are you? What are you?”
Crossover - Chapter 29
Shaddar can barely contain his fury as Jorin and Bort reach the second floor after their disastrous encounter with the constables. Bort at least has the good sense to look at the ground, knowing that they failed in ever aspect of The Boss’ wishes. But Jorin stands there looking pleased with himself!
“Go!” Shaddar says in a tone of lethal, sharpened ice, pointing with one outstretched and trembling claw to the stairs.
Jorin has the gall to look offended at his just ire! The man dares to speak, “What’s the matter, Boss? We made them leave didn’t we?”
Bort takes one look at the smoldering eyes and dangerously jerking tentacles, grabs his friend by the arm, and runs for the stairs while apologizing humbly all the while. His thoughts are filled with suspicions and dread about the talk of Murder-Most-Foul – especially the rising number of deaths mentioned.
Shaddar is not ready to be rid of their services. Quite. But as the offensive minions fade from his sight and the constables do in fact leave with most of their suppositions allayed, he calms slightly. Enough to spare Jorin’s life, in any event.
“Go!” Shaddar says in a tone of lethal, sharpened ice, pointing with one outstretched and trembling claw to the stairs.
Jorin has the gall to look offended at his just ire! The man dares to speak, “What’s the matter, Boss? We made them leave didn’t we?”
Bort takes one look at the smoldering eyes and dangerously jerking tentacles, grabs his friend by the arm, and runs for the stairs while apologizing humbly all the while. His thoughts are filled with suspicions and dread about the talk of Murder-Most-Foul – especially the rising number of deaths mentioned.
Shaddar is not ready to be rid of their services. Quite. But as the offensive minions fade from his sight and the constables do in fact leave with most of their suppositions allayed, he calms slightly. Enough to spare Jorin’s life, in any event.
Monday, November 26, 2012
Crossover - Chapter 28
Once again, Shaddar is the first one awake in the meadhall. He enjoys the mental quiet, thinking about his plans and how they are progressing. What a grand game this is!
His thralls are taking their exorbitant amount of rest. It’s scandalous – if he can get by on four hours of sleep a night, then that should be enough for them! Of all of those in the building, Hawke is probably the most fatigued. He has been sleeping poorly, drinking like a fish, and thinking far too hard. The minion might burn himself up soon if Shaddar can’t find some way to settle his mind…
“Ah, well. One must work within the constraints of the sub-standard materials that one has,” he thinks with resignation.
At approximately the same time as the day before, Shaddar senses Widow Cottondur and her daughters approach the meadhall. But what is this? They seem to have been met by some others in the alley – a group of constables, in fact. Shaddar listens into their conversation via their thoughts to find out what might be learned.
His thralls are taking their exorbitant amount of rest. It’s scandalous – if he can get by on four hours of sleep a night, then that should be enough for them! Of all of those in the building, Hawke is probably the most fatigued. He has been sleeping poorly, drinking like a fish, and thinking far too hard. The minion might burn himself up soon if Shaddar can’t find some way to settle his mind…
“Ah, well. One must work within the constraints of the sub-standard materials that one has,” he thinks with resignation.
At approximately the same time as the day before, Shaddar senses Widow Cottondur and her daughters approach the meadhall. But what is this? They seem to have been met by some others in the alley – a group of constables, in fact. Shaddar listens into their conversation via their thoughts to find out what might be learned.
Sunday, November 25, 2012
AAR: November 24, 2012 - Truffle Hunt
Friday, November 23, 2012
Crossover - Chapter 27
Shaddar is thinking that he will soon retire for the evening when he senses the approach of many minds from all sides. His tentacles writhe with excitement. The first of those who have been lured to the meadhall are on their way…
As they come slowly closer, he is able to determine that there are thirty of them. Hobgoblins. Their thoughts make it clear that they are troubleshooters who work for the tribal chiefs.
The thoughts of one in particular are filled with a mental review of the orders he is to carry out: “Only one freak, wearing an illusion with a wormy face, is needed. That’s who we need to soften up, gag, blindfold, and bring him before the chiefs. They‘ll get the truth out of him, sure enough! Anyone else gives us trouble and we’ll wrestle ‘em to the ground and give ‘em a good thrashing!”
Shaddar will only need two minions to handle this. He mentally calls to Toothsnatcher, “Intruders approach our lair. Wake Kug and bring him to the main hall. Bring your axe. I will likely need you to kill someone as an example.”
Shaddar goes downstairs to the main hall himself and arranges the tables and chairs to create the proper reception area for the incoming and unannounced guests.
“What is it, master?” Kug asks when they arrive. Toothsnatcher looks at the room layout and snorts with approval. Plenty of room for him to maneuver should he need to.
Shaddar sits on the single chair he has arranged in the center of the room as he answers, “An opportunity, Kug. One that I hope will please you greatly. All we need do is wait for some interlopers to enter the meadhall. If you will stand behind me? Yes. And now: patience…”
The hobgoblins split up to cover both the front and back doors and are quite stealthy about entering the building. They move quietly into the main hall and freeze as they see Shaddar and his two huge minions waiting for them in silence.
Shaddar speaks in a soft voice, “I’ve been waiting for you.”
Confusion and consternation.
The leader whose thoughts Shaddar focused on earlier steps forward boldly and speaks, “Our masters would have words with you.”
“Oh?”
“We’re supposed to bring you. Will you come quietly?” The hobgoblin leader smacks his fist into one palm twice to give weight to his implied threat.
“And why don’t you simply bring your chiefs here? I would like to speak with them, unfortunately I do not plan on doing anything at their request,” Shaddar’s voice sounds bored and irritated as with a misbehaving puppy, “They will be acting on my commands instead. Go. Bring them here.” A regal twitch of two fingers towards the door dismisses the hobgoblin force in what he is sure will be an insulting manner.
The hobgoblin is enraged as he replies loudly, “That’s not how it works! We brought rope! We will tie you up and drag you to our chiefs!”
“Allow me to show you how this works…” Shaddar snaps his fingers and commands Toothsnatcher to dispatch the rude and outspoken slave.
Toothsnatcher has been anticipating this command and reacts the instant Shaddar’s fingers snap. He moves in a blur of fluid strength and brings his massive axe down onto the neck of the hobgoblin with shocking power. The blade bites deeply, cleaving almost down to the hobgoblin’s sternum. The suddenness of the attack freezes the hobgoblin force into immobility.
Toothsnatcher is annoyed that his blade has become lodged in the body of the hobgoblin – as if this is an insult to him or the quality of his weapon. He grunts, twisting the haft of the weapon to wrench free the blade. The hobgoblin leader drops to the floor in a messy spray of blood and a noisy expulsion of air.
The ease and manner with which the minotaur dispatched their leader has paralyzed the remaining hobgoblins. Kug is also amazed as he mentally reviews some of Toothsnatcher’s earlier comments and begins to realize what weapons are possible of doing to his enemies when applied properly.
Toothsnatcher moves back to his side and the hobgoblins alternate their stare between the minotaur and his obvious master.
Shaddar slaps his thighs lightly. “Now. Were the rest of you going to say anything about ropes or ignoring my orders?”
Absolute quiet.
“To repeat: Bring your tribal chiefs to me. We can parlay – but on my terms. Do not bore me with such displays of foolishness.”
Shaddar sees from their thoughts that they have been affected by witnessing this event as they have by nothing before in their lives. None of these will dare to attack him or his minions – ever.
They make a slow backing-away movement, but are frozen in place when Shaddar holds up one hand and says, “Before you go –“ he turns to Kug, “Do you recognize any of these fellows, Kug?”
Kug’s eyes glint as he points, “Those two.”
Shaddar nods. “You two will remain. The rest of you may depart.” The selected two hobgoblins swallow nervously, their thoughts filled with the memories of the many times they have held Kug down and administered beatings at the commands of their chief. They both believe that the payback that is coming will be violent and final.
“Shall I take them away now, master,” Kug growls impatiently.
“In a moment, General. Soon they will be transferred to your temperate and loving charge.” Shaddar turns back to the two sweating hobgoblins and says with a tone of stern reproof, “You are guilty of harassing the general of my army. Such insubordination can’t be allowed to go unpunished. I find this most displeasing… Do you understand the nature of your crimes?”
“Oh, yes!”
“We’ll never do it again!”
Shaddar nods, “Good. A penitent attitude is the first step to recovery. Kug? In that room, if you please. Instruct them.” As Kug herds them away Shaddar says over his shoulder carelessly, “Oh, and Kug?”
“Yes, master?”
“Try to keep it down, will you? Let us be considerate of those who are at their rest.” Kug nods, but immediately fails as the sounds coming from behind the door are anything but quiet.
Shaddar does a quick scan of the building, but the sound hasn’t disturbed anyone on the second or third floor. Only Hawke is awakened by the sounds and he is doing his best to ignore it and not think about what could be happening or to whom.
The other hobgoblins shuffle around anxiously before one plucks up enough courage to ask, “May we go now, sir?”
Shaddar waves them off imperiously, “Goodbye.” As they start to back away again, he speaks with sharpness, “Don’t forget to take your trash out with you.” When he is given blank looks in response he huffs in annoyance and points to the butchered corpse of their erstwhile leader.
Their thoughts are a mix of shock and anger. Their anger is directed at the liar Tegoz who so obviously deceived the tribal chiefs!
“’A philanthropic soul,’ he said! ‘A weak and pandering fool,’ he said! Ha! We’ll kill that Tegoz next time we see him!”
“Kug is a general? This ‘master’ has an army? We’re doomed!”
“Harmless he was supposed to be! What a fool Tegoz is!”
“Please let me get out of here alive…”
Shaddar is certain that the mixture of confusing responses will paralyze the hobgoblin leadership. It is as he wished. He desires a bit more time to firm up the small force he has gathered before taking on the tribal chiefs directly.
The hobgoblins drag the body away, leaving an even larger mess, trailing out the door. Shaddar hopes that one of his minions will be able to get the bloodstains out of the floorboards. Luckily, the wood is dark with age and does not show the stains too clearly.
A few minutes after the hobgoblins have left, Kug emerges from the room, supporting both the bruised and battered recipients of his sweet acts of reform.
“Whalp! We’ve had a lovely little discussion, master!” he says. “I believe that I can salvage these hobgoblins – turn them into soldiers for your front lines in order to complete their turning over a new leaf.”
“Do you think so?”
“Oh, yes! I have stuffed their errors right down their throats, master! And I can repeat my lessons – daily if need be! Right, boys?”
The two hobgoblins groan and jerk their heads in what could charitably be called nods.
Shaddar stands and motions for all of them to return upstairs as he says, “Very well. I trust you will do what is necessary to see to their continued good behavior.”
“I think you can be certain of it, master! In fact, I think they will be my new roommates! Right, lads?”
More mumbles pass through their split and bleeding lips which sounds like babble, but Kug acts as though their response has been loquacious. “See, master? They will make great lieutenants with just a bit more special training!”
Chapter 1 < Chapter 26 Chapter 28 >
As they come slowly closer, he is able to determine that there are thirty of them. Hobgoblins. Their thoughts make it clear that they are troubleshooters who work for the tribal chiefs.
The thoughts of one in particular are filled with a mental review of the orders he is to carry out: “Only one freak, wearing an illusion with a wormy face, is needed. That’s who we need to soften up, gag, blindfold, and bring him before the chiefs. They‘ll get the truth out of him, sure enough! Anyone else gives us trouble and we’ll wrestle ‘em to the ground and give ‘em a good thrashing!”
Shaddar will only need two minions to handle this. He mentally calls to Toothsnatcher, “Intruders approach our lair. Wake Kug and bring him to the main hall. Bring your axe. I will likely need you to kill someone as an example.”
Shaddar goes downstairs to the main hall himself and arranges the tables and chairs to create the proper reception area for the incoming and unannounced guests.
“What is it, master?” Kug asks when they arrive. Toothsnatcher looks at the room layout and snorts with approval. Plenty of room for him to maneuver should he need to.
Shaddar sits on the single chair he has arranged in the center of the room as he answers, “An opportunity, Kug. One that I hope will please you greatly. All we need do is wait for some interlopers to enter the meadhall. If you will stand behind me? Yes. And now: patience…”
The hobgoblins split up to cover both the front and back doors and are quite stealthy about entering the building. They move quietly into the main hall and freeze as they see Shaddar and his two huge minions waiting for them in silence.
Shaddar speaks in a soft voice, “I’ve been waiting for you.”
Confusion and consternation.
The leader whose thoughts Shaddar focused on earlier steps forward boldly and speaks, “Our masters would have words with you.”
“Oh?”
“We’re supposed to bring you. Will you come quietly?” The hobgoblin leader smacks his fist into one palm twice to give weight to his implied threat.
“And why don’t you simply bring your chiefs here? I would like to speak with them, unfortunately I do not plan on doing anything at their request,” Shaddar’s voice sounds bored and irritated as with a misbehaving puppy, “They will be acting on my commands instead. Go. Bring them here.” A regal twitch of two fingers towards the door dismisses the hobgoblin force in what he is sure will be an insulting manner.
The hobgoblin is enraged as he replies loudly, “That’s not how it works! We brought rope! We will tie you up and drag you to our chiefs!”
“Allow me to show you how this works…” Shaddar snaps his fingers and commands Toothsnatcher to dispatch the rude and outspoken slave.
Toothsnatcher has been anticipating this command and reacts the instant Shaddar’s fingers snap. He moves in a blur of fluid strength and brings his massive axe down onto the neck of the hobgoblin with shocking power. The blade bites deeply, cleaving almost down to the hobgoblin’s sternum. The suddenness of the attack freezes the hobgoblin force into immobility.
Toothsnatcher is annoyed that his blade has become lodged in the body of the hobgoblin – as if this is an insult to him or the quality of his weapon. He grunts, twisting the haft of the weapon to wrench free the blade. The hobgoblin leader drops to the floor in a messy spray of blood and a noisy expulsion of air.
The ease and manner with which the minotaur dispatched their leader has paralyzed the remaining hobgoblins. Kug is also amazed as he mentally reviews some of Toothsnatcher’s earlier comments and begins to realize what weapons are possible of doing to his enemies when applied properly.
Toothsnatcher moves back to his side and the hobgoblins alternate their stare between the minotaur and his obvious master.
Shaddar slaps his thighs lightly. “Now. Were the rest of you going to say anything about ropes or ignoring my orders?”
Absolute quiet.
“To repeat: Bring your tribal chiefs to me. We can parlay – but on my terms. Do not bore me with such displays of foolishness.”
Shaddar sees from their thoughts that they have been affected by witnessing this event as they have by nothing before in their lives. None of these will dare to attack him or his minions – ever.
They make a slow backing-away movement, but are frozen in place when Shaddar holds up one hand and says, “Before you go –“ he turns to Kug, “Do you recognize any of these fellows, Kug?”
Kug’s eyes glint as he points, “Those two.”
Shaddar nods. “You two will remain. The rest of you may depart.” The selected two hobgoblins swallow nervously, their thoughts filled with the memories of the many times they have held Kug down and administered beatings at the commands of their chief. They both believe that the payback that is coming will be violent and final.
“Shall I take them away now, master,” Kug growls impatiently.
“In a moment, General. Soon they will be transferred to your temperate and loving charge.” Shaddar turns back to the two sweating hobgoblins and says with a tone of stern reproof, “You are guilty of harassing the general of my army. Such insubordination can’t be allowed to go unpunished. I find this most displeasing… Do you understand the nature of your crimes?”
“Oh, yes!”
“We’ll never do it again!”
Shaddar nods, “Good. A penitent attitude is the first step to recovery. Kug? In that room, if you please. Instruct them.” As Kug herds them away Shaddar says over his shoulder carelessly, “Oh, and Kug?”
“Yes, master?”
“Try to keep it down, will you? Let us be considerate of those who are at their rest.” Kug nods, but immediately fails as the sounds coming from behind the door are anything but quiet.
Shaddar does a quick scan of the building, but the sound hasn’t disturbed anyone on the second or third floor. Only Hawke is awakened by the sounds and he is doing his best to ignore it and not think about what could be happening or to whom.
The other hobgoblins shuffle around anxiously before one plucks up enough courage to ask, “May we go now, sir?”
Shaddar waves them off imperiously, “Goodbye.” As they start to back away again, he speaks with sharpness, “Don’t forget to take your trash out with you.” When he is given blank looks in response he huffs in annoyance and points to the butchered corpse of their erstwhile leader.
Their thoughts are a mix of shock and anger. Their anger is directed at the liar Tegoz who so obviously deceived the tribal chiefs!
“’A philanthropic soul,’ he said! ‘A weak and pandering fool,’ he said! Ha! We’ll kill that Tegoz next time we see him!”
“Kug is a general? This ‘master’ has an army? We’re doomed!”
“Harmless he was supposed to be! What a fool Tegoz is!”
“Please let me get out of here alive…”
Shaddar is certain that the mixture of confusing responses will paralyze the hobgoblin leadership. It is as he wished. He desires a bit more time to firm up the small force he has gathered before taking on the tribal chiefs directly.
The hobgoblins drag the body away, leaving an even larger mess, trailing out the door. Shaddar hopes that one of his minions will be able to get the bloodstains out of the floorboards. Luckily, the wood is dark with age and does not show the stains too clearly.
A few minutes after the hobgoblins have left, Kug emerges from the room, supporting both the bruised and battered recipients of his sweet acts of reform.
“Whalp! We’ve had a lovely little discussion, master!” he says. “I believe that I can salvage these hobgoblins – turn them into soldiers for your front lines in order to complete their turning over a new leaf.”
“Do you think so?”
“Oh, yes! I have stuffed their errors right down their throats, master! And I can repeat my lessons – daily if need be! Right, boys?”
The two hobgoblins groan and jerk their heads in what could charitably be called nods.
Shaddar stands and motions for all of them to return upstairs as he says, “Very well. I trust you will do what is necessary to see to their continued good behavior.”
“I think you can be certain of it, master! In fact, I think they will be my new roommates! Right, lads?”
More mumbles pass through their split and bleeding lips which sounds like babble, but Kug acts as though their response has been loquacious. “See, master? They will make great lieutenants with just a bit more special training!”
Chapter 1 < Chapter 26 Chapter 28 >
Crossover - Chapter 26
Shaddar, Kug, and Loolipo retreat back into the border zone, but not too far. Shaddar stops around the corner so that he can listen to how the dead body and the attached note will be received by the human authorities. He is unconcerned with being caught, since his ability to detect the minds of any would-be pursuers will allow him to evade them with ease.
Men arrive at the scene much faster than he anticipated, they are barely in the shadows when men run up from three different directions, including the now-reinforced group that Shaddar stopped.
“Horrible!”
“Is he… dead?”
“Look at his head! I’m going to be sick…”
Sounds of someone heaving echo down the alley.
“Don’t touch anything! Leave it for Chief Constable Snook – he’s the expert on Murder-Most-Foul.”
“Is it Murder-Most-Foul? Looks like some kind of animal attack.”
“Demon attack, you mean! Look at the note!”
“Keep your dress on, Nancy… Don’t let a little note un-man you!”
“This makes six murders in two days! What’s happening to our fair city?”
“Six? I’ve heard rumors that the number is higher than that – more bodies were found this very evening in the border zone – two dozen more constables, butchered like sheep!”
“Two dozen? I heard it was thirty!”
The thoughts of the men are actually more fearful than what they are verbalizing. Most of them are worried that their leaders will ask them to chase after the evil which has obviously fled back into the border zone. Some of them have resolved to never enter the border zones again – some have decided that it’s time to find a new career entirely.
The men’s muted conversations die down as the heroes arrive. The hero that Shaddar slowed up has brought a superior officer with him who is quite annoyed with the lack of courage the junior man showed in waiting for more men before approaching the scene of the crime.
The younger hero sees the grim display and says, “Appalling! It is just as dreadful as we were told, sir! The Mist Demons are among us!”
“Told? Told by whom?” the senior hero asks with acid in his voice. He is turning to anger to offset his fear – a typical lesser-creature response, Shaddar notes.
“A citizen witnessed the attack and warned us of the dread nature of our foe. He said that it was Mist Demons and it must be so!”
“A citizen? Which citizen,” the senior hero growls, “I want to interview this witness myself. Where are they?”
“I sent them home to safety, sir…”
“And where would that be? What was their name? Occupation? What did they look like?” the senior man rattles off with venom.
The younger man gapes and makes a few inarticulate sounds.
“You idiot! Our only witness? Fool! You’re relieved! Begone!” A pause and then: “Samdon?”
“Sir?”
“Go question those palehairs, perhaps they saw something… And why are you still here? You’ve been relieved, coward!”
The younger hero finds his voice at last. “I’m not a coward! I needed to survive in order to report what the citizen had told me!”
“Could’ve had the citizen do that directly, by just asking them to wait and tell me when I came! Instead you have dishonored the name of Hero! Now get out of my sight!”
The senior hero sends a constable off to report to the city palace. “The knights must be alerted that another incident has occurred.” Shaddar can see from his thoughts that there is a concerted effort being made to track where these events are happening at and how often. The knights are clearly in charge of the investigation.
Shaddar is pleased at the rumors that have already spread and those that will inevitably come from this fresh atrocity. He is not concerned with the palehairs, since they are clearly not in the habit of being forthcoming with the humans when questioned. He can tell that soon the hero in charge will order a sweep of the border zone, so he motions to his minions and they stealthily move away from the scene of the crime.
As they move through the alleyways Shaddar is thinking about the people here. They seem so foolish and yet they are not stupid (for the most part), they are just innocent and have a shocking lack of experience in dealing with adversity and change. Some of the older constables and certainly the knight have what Shaddar would consider to be a normal level of world-wisdom, as they have fought undead and dealt with the kinds of trouble that most of the populace have been shielded from their whole lives. But even they are incapable (or at least unprepared) to deal with an enemy that openly taunts them with wickedness. Their quest to live in a utopia has reduced their civilization’s foundation to one made of compressed hay. It has made their whole culture weak and decadent – ripe for overthrow!
He stops thinking of this as soon as they near the meadhall. Shaddar can sense that there are guests waiting for him within – 10 hobgoblins from their thoughts. A bit unnerved, but eager.
“An opportunity that I shall not waste,” Shaddar thinks.
He enters the inn with a bustle of energy. Best to show the new hobgoblins who is in charge at once.
“Welcome, my friends! Kug! Take our brave new recruits into the yard and instruct them on the ways of our army. When the yard is ready for the exercises of tomorrow, show them to an empty room or two upstairs!”
“Right away, Master!” Kug barks happily, “Let’s go you hobgoblins!” They all troop out the back door and into the yard. Kug begins regaling them with tales of his own experiences and they seem to drink it up. Good. Soon he will not need to personally greet every new creature that enters his service.
Shaddar turns to face a sputtering Hawke who has at long last been slapped with the realities of what some of The Boss’ guests are. “Oh, no! Hobgoblins? And that stench…”
“Lumpys? In my meadhall! Is this true?” he snarls with disgust.
“No less than 15, Hawke,” Shaddar says with pride, “Why, they practically have filled the rooms on the third floor already!”
“What?!”
“With more to come! I know you must be pleased!”
“I –“ Hawke snaps his jaws shut with an audible click. His thoughts are troubled, but he has realized that he was about to antagonize… The Boss. His features are rigid with distaste, but he nods jerkily and leaves the room without another word.
Shaddar sees that his thoughts are focused on obtaining the bottle of hard liquor he left in his room and finishing it off at once. His powerlessness in the face of even this injustice is more than he can bear just now. Shaddar’s tentacles writhe with pleasure at his frustration and turmoil.
He goes upstairs with Loolipo in tow, to talk with his other minions feeling very pleased indeed.
First he stops in Cutt’s room to find the gnome snoring, his bandaged feet resting on elevated pillows.
“What are you doing?” he demands, waking the thrall with his mental summons.
“Blargh? My feet, master,” he whimpers, “I was so hurt and tired…”
“Don’t talk to me of feet! What about these goods still not unpacked? Get to work!”
“Yes, master,” Cutt murmurs wearily.
Shaddar checks his room to find that the repairs have been completed and very nicely, too. Good.
Toothsnatcher snorts in greeting and indicates that none have even tried to enter the room where the three remaining men lie bound – awaiting their doom. Fine.
He climbs the stairs to visit with the humans.
He opens the door to their rooms without preamble and makes his first demand.
“Bort! I require ten more uniforms!”
“What? But Boss, I need more cloth!” the human responds.
“Loolipo?”
“Noted, master. Tomorrow?”
Shaddar nods towards Bort. “Very well. Tomorrow, I will need ten more uniforms! You can take their measurements before you leave for the days work.”
“And what did you think of our friends, Boss?” Jorin asks.
Shaddar looks at them blankly for a moment, prompting Bort to add, “You know? Five of our friends came in this evening to try out for the guild. How did they do?”
Shaddar suddenly acts with understanding. “Ah, yes! Your friends!”
Jorin beams and brags, “I must tell you, Boss: Most of those lads are protégés of mine.”
Bort adds, “It’s true. Only one of my friends, Helmnald, came over.”
Jorin nods knowingly, “So? Are they in?”
“Some of them are,” Shaddar says happily, then changes his tone to one of chagrin, “but some of them were… rejected. Only Helmnald made the cut – and just barely I might add.”
“Oh. That’s disappointing,” Jorin’s face falls as he replies.
“Yes, I’m afraid that not all of them were quite up to your own high caliber. That goes without saying, I suppose, but we must have very high standards for guild membership!”
Jorin’s features puff up with pride. “Too bad. I hope you weren’t too hard on them? Just because they weren’t as good as us?”
“Hopefully some of your other acquaintances will have better luck. Leave no stone unturned in your search for talent for our guild, men!”
Jorin nods, “Right you are, Boss. I’ll have to go ‘round to the lads that didn’t make the cut and buy them a drink and commiserate with them – maybe encourage them to try harder and improve themselves so they might have a better shot next time, eh?”
“What a sporting idea!” Shaddar says while thinking, “If you can find them…”
Chapter 1 < Chapter 25 Chapter 27 >
Men arrive at the scene much faster than he anticipated, they are barely in the shadows when men run up from three different directions, including the now-reinforced group that Shaddar stopped.
“Horrible!”
“Is he… dead?”
“Look at his head! I’m going to be sick…”
Sounds of someone heaving echo down the alley.
“Don’t touch anything! Leave it for Chief Constable Snook – he’s the expert on Murder-Most-Foul.”
“Is it Murder-Most-Foul? Looks like some kind of animal attack.”
“Demon attack, you mean! Look at the note!”
“Keep your dress on, Nancy… Don’t let a little note un-man you!”
“This makes six murders in two days! What’s happening to our fair city?”
“Six? I’ve heard rumors that the number is higher than that – more bodies were found this very evening in the border zone – two dozen more constables, butchered like sheep!”
“Two dozen? I heard it was thirty!”
The thoughts of the men are actually more fearful than what they are verbalizing. Most of them are worried that their leaders will ask them to chase after the evil which has obviously fled back into the border zone. Some of them have resolved to never enter the border zones again – some have decided that it’s time to find a new career entirely.
The men’s muted conversations die down as the heroes arrive. The hero that Shaddar slowed up has brought a superior officer with him who is quite annoyed with the lack of courage the junior man showed in waiting for more men before approaching the scene of the crime.
The younger hero sees the grim display and says, “Appalling! It is just as dreadful as we were told, sir! The Mist Demons are among us!”
“Told? Told by whom?” the senior hero asks with acid in his voice. He is turning to anger to offset his fear – a typical lesser-creature response, Shaddar notes.
“A citizen witnessed the attack and warned us of the dread nature of our foe. He said that it was Mist Demons and it must be so!”
“A citizen? Which citizen,” the senior hero growls, “I want to interview this witness myself. Where are they?”
“I sent them home to safety, sir…”
“And where would that be? What was their name? Occupation? What did they look like?” the senior man rattles off with venom.
The younger man gapes and makes a few inarticulate sounds.
“You idiot! Our only witness? Fool! You’re relieved! Begone!” A pause and then: “Samdon?”
“Sir?”
“Go question those palehairs, perhaps they saw something… And why are you still here? You’ve been relieved, coward!”
The younger hero finds his voice at last. “I’m not a coward! I needed to survive in order to report what the citizen had told me!”
“Could’ve had the citizen do that directly, by just asking them to wait and tell me when I came! Instead you have dishonored the name of Hero! Now get out of my sight!”
The senior hero sends a constable off to report to the city palace. “The knights must be alerted that another incident has occurred.” Shaddar can see from his thoughts that there is a concerted effort being made to track where these events are happening at and how often. The knights are clearly in charge of the investigation.
Shaddar is pleased at the rumors that have already spread and those that will inevitably come from this fresh atrocity. He is not concerned with the palehairs, since they are clearly not in the habit of being forthcoming with the humans when questioned. He can tell that soon the hero in charge will order a sweep of the border zone, so he motions to his minions and they stealthily move away from the scene of the crime.
As they move through the alleyways Shaddar is thinking about the people here. They seem so foolish and yet they are not stupid (for the most part), they are just innocent and have a shocking lack of experience in dealing with adversity and change. Some of the older constables and certainly the knight have what Shaddar would consider to be a normal level of world-wisdom, as they have fought undead and dealt with the kinds of trouble that most of the populace have been shielded from their whole lives. But even they are incapable (or at least unprepared) to deal with an enemy that openly taunts them with wickedness. Their quest to live in a utopia has reduced their civilization’s foundation to one made of compressed hay. It has made their whole culture weak and decadent – ripe for overthrow!
He stops thinking of this as soon as they near the meadhall. Shaddar can sense that there are guests waiting for him within – 10 hobgoblins from their thoughts. A bit unnerved, but eager.
“An opportunity that I shall not waste,” Shaddar thinks.
He enters the inn with a bustle of energy. Best to show the new hobgoblins who is in charge at once.
“Welcome, my friends! Kug! Take our brave new recruits into the yard and instruct them on the ways of our army. When the yard is ready for the exercises of tomorrow, show them to an empty room or two upstairs!”
“Right away, Master!” Kug barks happily, “Let’s go you hobgoblins!” They all troop out the back door and into the yard. Kug begins regaling them with tales of his own experiences and they seem to drink it up. Good. Soon he will not need to personally greet every new creature that enters his service.
Shaddar turns to face a sputtering Hawke who has at long last been slapped with the realities of what some of The Boss’ guests are. “Oh, no! Hobgoblins? And that stench…”
“Lumpys? In my meadhall! Is this true?” he snarls with disgust.
“No less than 15, Hawke,” Shaddar says with pride, “Why, they practically have filled the rooms on the third floor already!”
“What?!”
“With more to come! I know you must be pleased!”
“I –“ Hawke snaps his jaws shut with an audible click. His thoughts are troubled, but he has realized that he was about to antagonize… The Boss. His features are rigid with distaste, but he nods jerkily and leaves the room without another word.
Shaddar sees that his thoughts are focused on obtaining the bottle of hard liquor he left in his room and finishing it off at once. His powerlessness in the face of even this injustice is more than he can bear just now. Shaddar’s tentacles writhe with pleasure at his frustration and turmoil.
He goes upstairs with Loolipo in tow, to talk with his other minions feeling very pleased indeed.
First he stops in Cutt’s room to find the gnome snoring, his bandaged feet resting on elevated pillows.
“What are you doing?” he demands, waking the thrall with his mental summons.
“Blargh? My feet, master,” he whimpers, “I was so hurt and tired…”
“Don’t talk to me of feet! What about these goods still not unpacked? Get to work!”
“Yes, master,” Cutt murmurs wearily.
Shaddar checks his room to find that the repairs have been completed and very nicely, too. Good.
Toothsnatcher snorts in greeting and indicates that none have even tried to enter the room where the three remaining men lie bound – awaiting their doom. Fine.
He climbs the stairs to visit with the humans.
He opens the door to their rooms without preamble and makes his first demand.
“Bort! I require ten more uniforms!”
“What? But Boss, I need more cloth!” the human responds.
“Loolipo?”
“Noted, master. Tomorrow?”
Shaddar nods towards Bort. “Very well. Tomorrow, I will need ten more uniforms! You can take their measurements before you leave for the days work.”
“And what did you think of our friends, Boss?” Jorin asks.
Shaddar looks at them blankly for a moment, prompting Bort to add, “You know? Five of our friends came in this evening to try out for the guild. How did they do?”
Shaddar suddenly acts with understanding. “Ah, yes! Your friends!”
Jorin beams and brags, “I must tell you, Boss: Most of those lads are protégés of mine.”
Bort adds, “It’s true. Only one of my friends, Helmnald, came over.”
Jorin nods knowingly, “So? Are they in?”
“Some of them are,” Shaddar says happily, then changes his tone to one of chagrin, “but some of them were… rejected. Only Helmnald made the cut – and just barely I might add.”
“Oh. That’s disappointing,” Jorin’s face falls as he replies.
“Yes, I’m afraid that not all of them were quite up to your own high caliber. That goes without saying, I suppose, but we must have very high standards for guild membership!”
Jorin’s features puff up with pride. “Too bad. I hope you weren’t too hard on them? Just because they weren’t as good as us?”
“Hopefully some of your other acquaintances will have better luck. Leave no stone unturned in your search for talent for our guild, men!”
Jorin nods, “Right you are, Boss. I’ll have to go ‘round to the lads that didn’t make the cut and buy them a drink and commiserate with them – maybe encourage them to try harder and improve themselves so they might have a better shot next time, eh?”
“What a sporting idea!” Shaddar says while thinking, “If you can find them…”
Chapter 1 < Chapter 25 Chapter 27 >
Wednesday, November 21, 2012
Crossover - Chapter 25
Shaddar steps into the room where the four rejected candidates are waiting. They are of no use to him as workers and their minds are too weak to help him run his little empire. Therefore they will serve him in… another way…
Before they can waste any more air with pointless questions, Shaddar blasts them with his mind and they slump to their knees – senseless.
Shaddar gestures with his tentacles for Toothsnatcher and Loolipo to secure them. The thralls rush past him to bind and gag the stunned humans in a routine that they are familiar with, having been thralls to the illithids for many years.
Shaddar does not require sustenance, having gorged himself just yesterday, but after his long years of privations, he is eager to make up for lost time. He selects the dumbest and loudest one, wraps his drooling tentacles around the man’s head and…
Delicious…
When he has completed his snack, Shaddar turns to his thralls. They have completed their tasks and the three men have snapped out of the effect of his mind blast. Their terrified and confused eyes are wide and staring at Shaddar, his thralls, and the body of their friend. Shaddar took his time to eat neatly, so there is not much blood.
“One of you thralls will stand guard outside this room at all times while I have cattle in my larder. I leave it to you to arrange the rotation schedule. None may enter but me or one of you,” he broadcasts to the two of them, “Clean up after these cattle, but don’t waste good food on them – they won’t live long enough to starve.”
“And the body?” Loolipo asks.
Shaddar thinks for a moment then asks, “Do you have some spare rope?”
Loolipo nods with a bobbing motion, “Yes, master. I acquired many useful items today.”
“Good. I desire to see you use your skills with rope tonight. Go upstairs and ask Kug to come down with us. He will carry the body to where I plan on leaving it.”
Loolipo nods and leaves the room.
Shaddar orders Toothsnatcher to roll the body up in some old potato sacks from the kitchen and dump it in the hallway while he waits. Shaddar scribes a short note in bold, block letters on a scrap of parchment. This will be a vital bit of misdirection later in his plans…
Kug sniffs deeply when he sees the wrapped up form and looks up at Shaddar. “Dead guy?”
“Yes,” Shaddar agrees, “I also must indulge in… certain habits, shall we say? He offended me and had to go.”
Kug grins. “And how may I be of service, Master?”
“Just because the man is dead doesn’t mean that he can not still be useful to me! Carry the body and follow. Both of you.” He nods at Loolipo.
Toothsnatcher figures he might as well take the first shift of guarding the room which has become Shaddar’s private slave pit, leaning against his axe and sleeping with one eye open and all senses on alert as he learned to do while living in the Underdark. None of the clumsy and loud denizens of Big City will take him unawares! Shaddar approves of his thoughts and agrees.
As they walk towards the streets, Loolipo quietly tells Shaddar how pleased Cutt was with most of what she brought him. Some items he was annoyed that she brought him, but the gnome did point out the most useful collection of items all came from two different shops. Evidently, the gnome is still missing a few “key reagents”, but he was confident that he could find those later.
Shaddar is glad of her report. As soon as the gnome is ready he will have the thrall begin production – not just of the standard alchemical items that have good general utility, such as acid and tanglefoot glue, either. He knows that Cutt has the knowledge of manufacturing an explosive power often used in gnomish projectile weapons. Explosives are too dangerous to use underground as a general rule, but here on the surface? Yes. There will be opportunities for their use here…
They arrive at the streets without meeting or seeing another soul. Shaddar guided his little group in different directions a couple of times, to avoid the minds he could sense that were in their path, but it was quite simple to do that. He makes sure that he and his minions do not cross the border into the streets yet, wary of the alarm system that he saw working here earlier.
There is a large work party of drow within sight, repairing the mosaic cobblestones that were torn up earlier in the day. Shaddar scans their thoughts to see if they have noticed any patrols or groups of constables.
And they have. Not just constables, but heroes are walking the streets this night as well.
From the thoughts of the drow workers the level of patrols by the constables and heroes is quite extraordinary. Shaddar realizes that there must be extra patrols in response to his activities and the authorities’ investigations into them. So. He will give them something new to report tonight.
The elegant lamps provide a great deal of light, so the streets are all brightly lit. It is easy to make out some of the patrols and their patterns of walking. But the majority of people he sees and senses are the dark elves.
“I’m surprised that there aren’t more hobgoblins about,” Shaddar says quietly, looking at Kug and pulling his cloak tighter around his neck.
“They don’t let hobgoblins in this part of town very often – and it’s never before the deepest part of the night when they do,” Kug whispers.
A patrol comes near and Shaddar sees that it is comprised of four constables, led by a single hero. The hero acts like a jerk at every possible opportunity, going out of his way to kick drow out of his way and sneer at them.
“Out of my sight, palehair! Ugh! And you there! Have you seen anything unusual?”
The frightened and cowed drow answers, “Some broken stones?”
There is much laughter from the constables at this response.
The hero slaps the drow and yells at him, “Don’t lie to me, palehair! Oh, why do I bother?”
They walk away from the persecuted drow and around the corner.
Shaddar can sense the hatred boiling in Kug, but such displays of control do not vex the mindflayer at all. Soon enough, such sights will merely consist of a swapping of the players, but he has no doubt that they will continue.
Still. These emotions can be put to good use. Shaddar gives Kug and Loolipo precise instructions as to what to do when they enter the streets and once they understand, they step between the lamps and begin their work.
Shaddar sees that the lights on either side flare brightly as they step into the street and he hurries to intercept the patrol before they come back into view of his thralls who are busy at their work.
His intention is two-fold. He will stall the authorities long enough to allow his minions to complete their arrangement of the dead man’s body and plant the seeds of confusion in the ranks of his enemies. He pulls the hood of his cloak tight around his face to mask his features.
He turns the corner and finds the patrol group already running towards the border zone where the alarm went off and immediately begins his act. He begins to wail and cry out, waving his arms wildly in the air. They see him running and carrying on – how can they not?
The Hero skids to a stop and calls out, “What is it citizen? What’s the trouble?”
“Ooo! It was horrible!” Shaddar yells in a disguised voice.
“What? What was horrible?”
“Mist Demons!”
The men take a step backwards and the hero looks like he’s been punched in the gut.
“What? No!”
“Yes!” Shaddar cries out. “I wish I could pluck out my eyes to un-see what I have beheld!” He sobs pathetically.
When the hero makes a motion as if to walk past and see this sight for himself, Shaddar grabs his sleeve. “Oh, no! Don’t go! You will be powerless to stop them! I do not wish you to die as well!”
“What? Someone has died?”
“Yes! Their prowess and speed was unbelievable! You do not have enough men here to face them! Gather the patrols, sir! Gather all your forces! Or it will not be enough and you will all perish!”
Two of the constables look like they have soiled themselves they are so frightened. They quickly volunteer to gather the other patrols and rush off, leaving only three men with Shaddar. The hero is far too busy trying to decide what to do to even notice.
“Yes, you men spread the word and collect back-up,” he calls out belatedly, “We will go and fight this beast off! Get yourself to safety, citizen!”
“No! Don’t go!”
“We must!” The hero strikes a noble pose and sweeps a hand through his wavy hair. “It is our duty! And we have been trained in the ways of valor! Our steel will soon settle this evil!”
“But, they dispatched a man in mere seconds! His skull ripped open!”
“What? No!” The hero’s voice squeaks a bit.
“Even with all of your training, your gallant righteousness, you will have your head torn open, too! Blood and hair scattered to the four winds! You’ll not stand a chance! Please, sir! I beg you: wait for more men!”
The hero’s thoughts show that the appeal to the man’s vanity was the proper course: “My pristine hair? My flawless skin? Wrecked by a beast? Perhaps I will wait for backup…”
“Very well. We shall wait for more men, lads! No point in falling and not being able to report anything!” he manages. His men look relieved.
Shaddar hurries back to his thralls and is gratified that they have finished the work they were assigned. The dead man has been hung upside-down from the top of the lamppost by his feet. Shaddar quickly looks over their work and nods. He then takes out the scrap of parchment he wrote on back in the meadhall and pins it to the man’s chest.
He steps back to read the stark message: “Behold the doom of the Mist Demons! You will be next!”
Shaddar knows that this slight bit of misdirection will not fool the more astute investigators in the city – the M.O. of this murder is exactly the same as the five dead constables, after all. But perhaps it will have an impact on the more superstitious class. He chuckles shamefully. This is a fine joke regardless of how the humans receive it.
Chapter 1 < Chapter 24 Chapter 26 >
Before they can waste any more air with pointless questions, Shaddar blasts them with his mind and they slump to their knees – senseless.
Shaddar gestures with his tentacles for Toothsnatcher and Loolipo to secure them. The thralls rush past him to bind and gag the stunned humans in a routine that they are familiar with, having been thralls to the illithids for many years.
Shaddar does not require sustenance, having gorged himself just yesterday, but after his long years of privations, he is eager to make up for lost time. He selects the dumbest and loudest one, wraps his drooling tentacles around the man’s head and…
Delicious…
When he has completed his snack, Shaddar turns to his thralls. They have completed their tasks and the three men have snapped out of the effect of his mind blast. Their terrified and confused eyes are wide and staring at Shaddar, his thralls, and the body of their friend. Shaddar took his time to eat neatly, so there is not much blood.
“One of you thralls will stand guard outside this room at all times while I have cattle in my larder. I leave it to you to arrange the rotation schedule. None may enter but me or one of you,” he broadcasts to the two of them, “Clean up after these cattle, but don’t waste good food on them – they won’t live long enough to starve.”
“And the body?” Loolipo asks.
Shaddar thinks for a moment then asks, “Do you have some spare rope?”
Loolipo nods with a bobbing motion, “Yes, master. I acquired many useful items today.”
“Good. I desire to see you use your skills with rope tonight. Go upstairs and ask Kug to come down with us. He will carry the body to where I plan on leaving it.”
Loolipo nods and leaves the room.
Shaddar orders Toothsnatcher to roll the body up in some old potato sacks from the kitchen and dump it in the hallway while he waits. Shaddar scribes a short note in bold, block letters on a scrap of parchment. This will be a vital bit of misdirection later in his plans…
Kug sniffs deeply when he sees the wrapped up form and looks up at Shaddar. “Dead guy?”
“Yes,” Shaddar agrees, “I also must indulge in… certain habits, shall we say? He offended me and had to go.”
Kug grins. “And how may I be of service, Master?”
“Just because the man is dead doesn’t mean that he can not still be useful to me! Carry the body and follow. Both of you.” He nods at Loolipo.
Toothsnatcher figures he might as well take the first shift of guarding the room which has become Shaddar’s private slave pit, leaning against his axe and sleeping with one eye open and all senses on alert as he learned to do while living in the Underdark. None of the clumsy and loud denizens of Big City will take him unawares! Shaddar approves of his thoughts and agrees.
As they walk towards the streets, Loolipo quietly tells Shaddar how pleased Cutt was with most of what she brought him. Some items he was annoyed that she brought him, but the gnome did point out the most useful collection of items all came from two different shops. Evidently, the gnome is still missing a few “key reagents”, but he was confident that he could find those later.
Shaddar is glad of her report. As soon as the gnome is ready he will have the thrall begin production – not just of the standard alchemical items that have good general utility, such as acid and tanglefoot glue, either. He knows that Cutt has the knowledge of manufacturing an explosive power often used in gnomish projectile weapons. Explosives are too dangerous to use underground as a general rule, but here on the surface? Yes. There will be opportunities for their use here…
They arrive at the streets without meeting or seeing another soul. Shaddar guided his little group in different directions a couple of times, to avoid the minds he could sense that were in their path, but it was quite simple to do that. He makes sure that he and his minions do not cross the border into the streets yet, wary of the alarm system that he saw working here earlier.
There is a large work party of drow within sight, repairing the mosaic cobblestones that were torn up earlier in the day. Shaddar scans their thoughts to see if they have noticed any patrols or groups of constables.
And they have. Not just constables, but heroes are walking the streets this night as well.
From the thoughts of the drow workers the level of patrols by the constables and heroes is quite extraordinary. Shaddar realizes that there must be extra patrols in response to his activities and the authorities’ investigations into them. So. He will give them something new to report tonight.
The elegant lamps provide a great deal of light, so the streets are all brightly lit. It is easy to make out some of the patrols and their patterns of walking. But the majority of people he sees and senses are the dark elves.
“I’m surprised that there aren’t more hobgoblins about,” Shaddar says quietly, looking at Kug and pulling his cloak tighter around his neck.
“They don’t let hobgoblins in this part of town very often – and it’s never before the deepest part of the night when they do,” Kug whispers.
A patrol comes near and Shaddar sees that it is comprised of four constables, led by a single hero. The hero acts like a jerk at every possible opportunity, going out of his way to kick drow out of his way and sneer at them.
“Out of my sight, palehair! Ugh! And you there! Have you seen anything unusual?”
The frightened and cowed drow answers, “Some broken stones?”
There is much laughter from the constables at this response.
The hero slaps the drow and yells at him, “Don’t lie to me, palehair! Oh, why do I bother?”
They walk away from the persecuted drow and around the corner.
Shaddar can sense the hatred boiling in Kug, but such displays of control do not vex the mindflayer at all. Soon enough, such sights will merely consist of a swapping of the players, but he has no doubt that they will continue.
Still. These emotions can be put to good use. Shaddar gives Kug and Loolipo precise instructions as to what to do when they enter the streets and once they understand, they step between the lamps and begin their work.
Shaddar sees that the lights on either side flare brightly as they step into the street and he hurries to intercept the patrol before they come back into view of his thralls who are busy at their work.
His intention is two-fold. He will stall the authorities long enough to allow his minions to complete their arrangement of the dead man’s body and plant the seeds of confusion in the ranks of his enemies. He pulls the hood of his cloak tight around his face to mask his features.
He turns the corner and finds the patrol group already running towards the border zone where the alarm went off and immediately begins his act. He begins to wail and cry out, waving his arms wildly in the air. They see him running and carrying on – how can they not?
The Hero skids to a stop and calls out, “What is it citizen? What’s the trouble?”
“Ooo! It was horrible!” Shaddar yells in a disguised voice.
“What? What was horrible?”
“Mist Demons!”
The men take a step backwards and the hero looks like he’s been punched in the gut.
“What? No!”
“Yes!” Shaddar cries out. “I wish I could pluck out my eyes to un-see what I have beheld!” He sobs pathetically.
When the hero makes a motion as if to walk past and see this sight for himself, Shaddar grabs his sleeve. “Oh, no! Don’t go! You will be powerless to stop them! I do not wish you to die as well!”
“What? Someone has died?”
“Yes! Their prowess and speed was unbelievable! You do not have enough men here to face them! Gather the patrols, sir! Gather all your forces! Or it will not be enough and you will all perish!”
Two of the constables look like they have soiled themselves they are so frightened. They quickly volunteer to gather the other patrols and rush off, leaving only three men with Shaddar. The hero is far too busy trying to decide what to do to even notice.
“Yes, you men spread the word and collect back-up,” he calls out belatedly, “We will go and fight this beast off! Get yourself to safety, citizen!”
“No! Don’t go!”
“We must!” The hero strikes a noble pose and sweeps a hand through his wavy hair. “It is our duty! And we have been trained in the ways of valor! Our steel will soon settle this evil!”
“But, they dispatched a man in mere seconds! His skull ripped open!”
“What? No!” The hero’s voice squeaks a bit.
“Even with all of your training, your gallant righteousness, you will have your head torn open, too! Blood and hair scattered to the four winds! You’ll not stand a chance! Please, sir! I beg you: wait for more men!”
The hero’s thoughts show that the appeal to the man’s vanity was the proper course: “My pristine hair? My flawless skin? Wrecked by a beast? Perhaps I will wait for backup…”
“Very well. We shall wait for more men, lads! No point in falling and not being able to report anything!” he manages. His men look relieved.
Shaddar hurries back to his thralls and is gratified that they have finished the work they were assigned. The dead man has been hung upside-down from the top of the lamppost by his feet. Shaddar quickly looks over their work and nods. He then takes out the scrap of parchment he wrote on back in the meadhall and pins it to the man’s chest.
He steps back to read the stark message: “Behold the doom of the Mist Demons! You will be next!”
Shaddar knows that this slight bit of misdirection will not fool the more astute investigators in the city – the M.O. of this murder is exactly the same as the five dead constables, after all. But perhaps it will have an impact on the more superstitious class. He chuckles shamefully. This is a fine joke regardless of how the humans receive it.
Chapter 1 < Chapter 24 Chapter 26 >
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