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!
Tuesday, November 27, 2012
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 >
Tuesday, November 20, 2012
Crossover - Chapter 24
It is a little past dusk before Kug and Toothsnatcher return to the meadhall.
Shaddar walks down to the main hall as soon as he senses their approach. Toothsnatcher is happy and Kug is ecstatic. Their thoughts bode well.
He sees that they both carry a heavy load of stolen loot, but not nearly as much as the minotaur’s first sortie.
“Pickin’s were slim, master,” Toothsnatcher explains as he unloads the loot. “But we did get some weapons.”
“Oh? Were some of the victims armed?”
Kug answers, “Naw. We jumped a couple of constable patrols. They had some nice stuff! And it was good to get a bit of payback against ‘em!”
“Perfect,” Shaddar says with glee. “Well done!”
“Yeah! They won’t be bothering us ever again!”
Shaddar raises an eyebrow in question and Toothsnatcher dissembles a bit, “Well… You didn’t say not to kill constables, just the folks we mugged. They had swords and stuff, so we just killed ‘em.”
Shaddar shrugs. Too late to change things now.
“Fine,” he says in a bored tone, “Let’s have a look at what you have brought me.”
The loot includes eight constable uniforms with a variety of weapons. Most of the uniforms are heavily bloodstained, but they can be laundered. Shaddar notices that the uniform is a form of padded armor, but it obviously didn’t help much against the might of his two violent muggers. The weapons collected include eight clubs, three maces, four short swords, and a silvered dagger.
Toothsnatcher lays out the goods for Shaddar to examine, but Kug is much too busy telling Shaddar all about his experiences.
“The power, Master! Never have I felt anything like it! Their weak little necks would snap and I never felt more like a hobgoblin!”
“Yes. You are awakening to your true nature, Kug, as is right. I hope that more of your fellows will be able to share in your delights soon…”
Kug picks up on the unstated query and responds. “Oh, yeah! I’m sure that some of the grunts I talked to while we was out will be stopping by later to see about joining your army.”
“Ah? Good!”
“Yeah! I found that I was much more convincing after I had killed the first four constables. Once those lads could see the blood on my hands and smelled it, a little fire would twinkle in some of their eyes and I knew just which ones to talk to – private like.”
Shaddar is worried that the hobgoblin he has selected for his general will become overconfident. He is certainly enjoying killing and from his thoughts, Shaddar can see that he’s not at all certain that he didn’t kill some of the civilians that they mugged – nor is he upset about that idea. Shaddar also learns that he secretly cut off some grisly trophies from his fallen enemies and has hidden them in his pocket to show others and revel over later.
His thoughts go out to the minotaur: “You will need to teach this one more self-control. Violence is a tool – not a drug! He behaves like a youth let loose in the slave pits. Teach the hobgoblin how to control the flow of hate and aggression and not to allow his emotions to rule him completely – at the next opportunity!”
Toothsnatcher nods. He too, thinks that the hobgoblin is a bit out-of-control.
Shaddar sends a mental message upstairs to Loolipo. “Collect Jorin, Bort, and Cutt. We have goods to be put away on the main floor.”
Soon the four of them come downstairs. They make enough noise that Hawke comes up to the bar to listen in on whatever conversation might ensue. Jorin is excited with the prospect of more gold, but Bort is wondering where it all has come from.
Jorin is a bit unsure of himself after the disappointment he heard in Shaddar’s rebuke of his lack of bravery earlier in the day. He asks timidly, “So… Four percent, Boss?”
Shaddar sighs, but nods his assent, “Yes.”
“And all I had to do for this gold is hide under my bed all day? This is the best job ever!” Jorin thinks. Shaddar’s tentacles make a gesture of resignation mingled with threat as he thinks, “Oh, you’ll be earning that gold later…”
Bort picks up the pile of constable uniforms with a raised eyebrow. “Boss? Where did these come from? And what’re these stains?”
“Use your imagination, Bort.”
“Is it… tomato sauce?” the man asks carefully.
“Good imagination!” Shaddar says expansively. Bort grins with pleasure at the compliment. Shaddar continues much more briskly, “Now, clean the ‘tomato sauce’ off these uniforms and patch the sundry holes, rips, and cuts. I will need them back to a pristine-looking state. Can you do that?”
“Oh, certainly, Boss! Never met a stain I couldn’t get out!”
Jorin pipes up while stacking coins in neat piles, “Yeah, Bort is good with a needle, too – he’ll patch ‘em right up! Must have been on sale, eh? Constables wouldn’t be caught dead wearing such filthy and torn outfits!”
Kug and Toothsnatcher find this statement hilarious for reasons that perplex the humans. The monster’s nasty chuckles are hearty and loud.
Shaddar is surprised that the two men haven’t figured out where the loot comes from or what might be done to obtain it. The thought of the level of violence that would be required to forcibly take the items can’t seem to get into their forebrains. The men can’t make the leap past their prior life experiences and moral disbelief.
Hawke is pale and is chewing the inside of his cheek with discomfort. His thoughts make it clear that he understands exactly what’s so funny to the beefy-sounding and aggressive voices.
Hawke brings out bowls of stew that Evicurra cooked for supper to mask his feelings and to occupy himself with something familiar and normal.
Everyone takes a bowl and eats while the sorting continues.
Shaddar overhears Kug ask Toothsnatcher, “So that’s the biggest axe I’ve ever seen? Are you a woodcutter, then?”
The minotaur grunts, “No. But I have hewed things with it…”
“Like what?”
“Nothing here in the city. Things here are too soft to bother – I can just use my fists or horns. But you stick around, Kug – you’ll see what…”
After the stew is consumed and the goods sorted, Shaddar orders his minions to put the remainder away. He can sense the approach of a group of humans. Their thoughts seem to indicate that they are the ones that Jorin and Bort invited. He orders the hobgoblins to return upstairs and remain until called for.
When the five humans arrive, Jorin and Bort greet them warmly and orders a bunch of ales for them. Their conversation and thoughts are quite revealing and Shaddar is silent for a few moments while he eavesdrops. He notes that they have varying degrees of intelligence – mostly on the low end of the scale…
“Why are you all still in costume?”
“What’s it all about, Jorin?”
“Is that him? The Boss? Ugly costume, innit?”
“Shhh!”
“We’re have a Guild Trial here? In the meadhall? A bit strange, that…”
“Probably a drinking contest.”
“Then you’ll lose for sure, eh? Might as well hang it up now! Har!”
Soon Shaddar wanders over and Jorin makes introductions. Shaddar only pays attention to the one fellow whose mind is sharp enough that he might prove useful to him: Helmnald Moonfast. The others? Well. One doesn’t learn the names of one’s dinner, does one? No. That would be tacky. Four men just as dumb as Jorin? One minion that stupid is more than enough! Now that those that he can not use have seen him and have learned where his hideout is located, they can not be allowed to talk…
“It looks like I’m having a four-course meal,” he thinks nastily, “but the separation of the recruit from my new feed-animals must come first.”
Shaddar motions to two different rooms and says, “Gentlemen! We will begin. If you will come with me into that room, Helmnald, and the rest will please wait for your turn to be interviewed in this room, we can get started.” He turns to Jorin and Bort and says, “Thank you, men. I will send for you when I have need.”
The humans all obey and Shaddar is once again amazed at how easy things are here. How simple and perfect for him it is. With not a flicker of fear or uncertainty, the four doomed men walk into the room and shut the door.
If he’s not careful he will lose his edge and grow soft – he resolves to never let that happen. Just because it is easy now, does not mean it will remain so.
He sends a mental command to Toothsnatcher and Loolipo to make sure none of the four dumb human’s leave the room they have just entered. He shuts his own door and turns to the man who might have enough utility to survive his encounter with Shaddar.
“Tell me about your background, Helmnald,” Shaddar prompts as he sits opposite the man.
“I work in the border zones, sir. Doing slight of hand shows, party tricks, that sort of thing. That’s what got me into trouble… I used to work in the Guild of Villains, but I got… well… er… bored.”
“You were banished to the border zone for the crime of being bored?”
“Well tricks and entertainment were my job, see? But it was too easy to just slip folks purses while I was doing the show. When the Guild found out I was kicked out at once for unlicensed villainy.”
“But I thought you were a member of the Guild? How then could your acts have been unlicensed?”
“I wasn’t in the department of larceny, was I? No, just worked for the entertainment captain. They don’t take kindly to villains crossing those kinds of lines and blurring the activities of villains everywhere,” Helmnald answers with a sigh, “Petty larceny was outside my bailiwick.”
“I see. And is the captain of the larceny a man with an eye-patch? A Flame Albion?”
“Oh, no, sir! Flame is the right-hand of the Guildmaster himself! He doesn’t do anything so tedious as run one of the Guild’s depatments. All of the department captains report to him and he takes the news to the Guildmaster.” Helmnald’s thoughts continue with slightly more information, “Not that anyone knows who that is – or even if it really is a ‘he’ at all. Far too secretive, if you ask me! And too political by half! I was better than their own burglars, that’s why they really wanted me gone – I made their lads look bad!”
Shaddar leans forward and asks, “Petty larceny? Were you good at it, then?”
The man blushes a bit as he answers, “Well… I don’t like to brag, sir, but yes. I was quite good.”
“Excellent. I just so happen to have an opening for captain of grand larceny in the Guild of Swashbuckling Rogues. Interested?”
“Grand,” Helmnald rolls the words as he says them slowly, “larceny? What’s that, sir?”
Shaddar speaks as patiently as he can, “You enjoy picking coins out of someone’s pocket? Or lifting an entire purse?”
“Yes. Petty larceny.”
“Grand larceny is merely emptying whole shops of their contents. It is doing what you love, but on a grand scale!”
The man’s eyes grow round as he whispers, “We can do that?”
“We can do whatever I want. Join us and you can do whatever you want.”
The man is tempted, but is smart enough to dig for more details. “Really? What kind of arrangement do you have with the Heroes?”
“The Heroes?” Shaddar asks with a laugh. “The Heroes. Ha! We do what we want in spite of the Heroes.”
“In… spite of the Heroes?”
Shaddar waves a hand in the air lazily as he continues, “The Heroes are far too busy drinking milk and tripping over their own feet to run away with their tails between their legs to have any kind of a say in how our guild operates. We are far above them, my friend,” his voice picks up power and excitement as he continues, "As are you! Who are those fools in the Guild of Villains to judge your talents unworthy? Bah! But don’t blame them – for it was destiny, Helmnald… Destiny! The reason they sent you away was so you could find us and live up to the true expression of your capabilities!”
The flattery is gaining a foothold on the Helmnald’s opinions. He rubs his stubble with one hand and mumbles, “Grand larceny? I’ve never considered anything like it before…”
“’Grand’ is so much better than ‘petty’,” Shaddar pushes gently.
“You know… it is, isn’t it?” The man begins to smile and Shaddar knows he has hooked another minion. A few seconds later the man verbalizes what Shaddar already knows by saying, “By the Mist! I’ll do it!”
“Good.”
“Where do I sign up, then? Do I get a Villain’s coin?” Shaddar sees in his thoughts that members of the Guild of Villains had a magical coin of some kind as a token of their membership.
“Yes, of course. You will get to wear the outfit of the Swashbuckling Rogue complete with mustache!” He hands Helmnald a paper mustache and the man raises one eyebrow critically.
“No disrespect meant, Boss, but… could I get my own outfit made to order? Y’see I know this haberdasher who does really fine work with clothes and wigs and such…”
“Excellent idea! In fact, see if he will make outfits to order based on just measurements! I will need more and higher quality outfits for some of our other guild members,” Shaddar says with satisfaction.
“Does it matter what I practice my skills on, Boss? Do you have someplace in mind for me to perform my first act of grand larceny?” Helmnald continues to roll the phrase slowly over his tongue as if experimenting with it.
“Not for now. I would only encourage you to return items that are of value to the guild, such as items made at the blacksmith’s, jewels, non-perishable foodstuffs, that sort of thing.”
Helmnald rubs his hands together. “Good. I have just the place then. I live near a blacksmith and whenever he mangles a horseshoe, he saves it in a pile so he can throw them at me when he sees me. I know exactly whose shop I’ll empty to the walls first, Boss…”
Shaddar chuckles.
The man continues, “In fact, I have an idea that might work this very night!”
Shaddar stands. “In that case, I’ll see you in the morning, Helmnald! And may I say: Good hunting and welcome to the Guild!”
Chapter 1 < Chapter 23 Chapter 25 >
Shaddar walks down to the main hall as soon as he senses their approach. Toothsnatcher is happy and Kug is ecstatic. Their thoughts bode well.
He sees that they both carry a heavy load of stolen loot, but not nearly as much as the minotaur’s first sortie.
“Pickin’s were slim, master,” Toothsnatcher explains as he unloads the loot. “But we did get some weapons.”
“Oh? Were some of the victims armed?”
Kug answers, “Naw. We jumped a couple of constable patrols. They had some nice stuff! And it was good to get a bit of payback against ‘em!”
“Perfect,” Shaddar says with glee. “Well done!”
“Yeah! They won’t be bothering us ever again!”
Shaddar raises an eyebrow in question and Toothsnatcher dissembles a bit, “Well… You didn’t say not to kill constables, just the folks we mugged. They had swords and stuff, so we just killed ‘em.”
Shaddar shrugs. Too late to change things now.
“Fine,” he says in a bored tone, “Let’s have a look at what you have brought me.”
The loot includes eight constable uniforms with a variety of weapons. Most of the uniforms are heavily bloodstained, but they can be laundered. Shaddar notices that the uniform is a form of padded armor, but it obviously didn’t help much against the might of his two violent muggers. The weapons collected include eight clubs, three maces, four short swords, and a silvered dagger.
Toothsnatcher lays out the goods for Shaddar to examine, but Kug is much too busy telling Shaddar all about his experiences.
“The power, Master! Never have I felt anything like it! Their weak little necks would snap and I never felt more like a hobgoblin!”
“Yes. You are awakening to your true nature, Kug, as is right. I hope that more of your fellows will be able to share in your delights soon…”
Kug picks up on the unstated query and responds. “Oh, yeah! I’m sure that some of the grunts I talked to while we was out will be stopping by later to see about joining your army.”
“Ah? Good!”
“Yeah! I found that I was much more convincing after I had killed the first four constables. Once those lads could see the blood on my hands and smelled it, a little fire would twinkle in some of their eyes and I knew just which ones to talk to – private like.”
Shaddar is worried that the hobgoblin he has selected for his general will become overconfident. He is certainly enjoying killing and from his thoughts, Shaddar can see that he’s not at all certain that he didn’t kill some of the civilians that they mugged – nor is he upset about that idea. Shaddar also learns that he secretly cut off some grisly trophies from his fallen enemies and has hidden them in his pocket to show others and revel over later.
His thoughts go out to the minotaur: “You will need to teach this one more self-control. Violence is a tool – not a drug! He behaves like a youth let loose in the slave pits. Teach the hobgoblin how to control the flow of hate and aggression and not to allow his emotions to rule him completely – at the next opportunity!”
Toothsnatcher nods. He too, thinks that the hobgoblin is a bit out-of-control.
Shaddar sends a mental message upstairs to Loolipo. “Collect Jorin, Bort, and Cutt. We have goods to be put away on the main floor.”
Soon the four of them come downstairs. They make enough noise that Hawke comes up to the bar to listen in on whatever conversation might ensue. Jorin is excited with the prospect of more gold, but Bort is wondering where it all has come from.
Jorin is a bit unsure of himself after the disappointment he heard in Shaddar’s rebuke of his lack of bravery earlier in the day. He asks timidly, “So… Four percent, Boss?”
Shaddar sighs, but nods his assent, “Yes.”
“And all I had to do for this gold is hide under my bed all day? This is the best job ever!” Jorin thinks. Shaddar’s tentacles make a gesture of resignation mingled with threat as he thinks, “Oh, you’ll be earning that gold later…”
Bort picks up the pile of constable uniforms with a raised eyebrow. “Boss? Where did these come from? And what’re these stains?”
“Use your imagination, Bort.”
“Is it… tomato sauce?” the man asks carefully.
“Good imagination!” Shaddar says expansively. Bort grins with pleasure at the compliment. Shaddar continues much more briskly, “Now, clean the ‘tomato sauce’ off these uniforms and patch the sundry holes, rips, and cuts. I will need them back to a pristine-looking state. Can you do that?”
“Oh, certainly, Boss! Never met a stain I couldn’t get out!”
Jorin pipes up while stacking coins in neat piles, “Yeah, Bort is good with a needle, too – he’ll patch ‘em right up! Must have been on sale, eh? Constables wouldn’t be caught dead wearing such filthy and torn outfits!”
Kug and Toothsnatcher find this statement hilarious for reasons that perplex the humans. The monster’s nasty chuckles are hearty and loud.
Shaddar is surprised that the two men haven’t figured out where the loot comes from or what might be done to obtain it. The thought of the level of violence that would be required to forcibly take the items can’t seem to get into their forebrains. The men can’t make the leap past their prior life experiences and moral disbelief.
Hawke is pale and is chewing the inside of his cheek with discomfort. His thoughts make it clear that he understands exactly what’s so funny to the beefy-sounding and aggressive voices.
Hawke brings out bowls of stew that Evicurra cooked for supper to mask his feelings and to occupy himself with something familiar and normal.
Everyone takes a bowl and eats while the sorting continues.
Shaddar overhears Kug ask Toothsnatcher, “So that’s the biggest axe I’ve ever seen? Are you a woodcutter, then?”
The minotaur grunts, “No. But I have hewed things with it…”
“Like what?”
“Nothing here in the city. Things here are too soft to bother – I can just use my fists or horns. But you stick around, Kug – you’ll see what…”
After the stew is consumed and the goods sorted, Shaddar orders his minions to put the remainder away. He can sense the approach of a group of humans. Their thoughts seem to indicate that they are the ones that Jorin and Bort invited. He orders the hobgoblins to return upstairs and remain until called for.
When the five humans arrive, Jorin and Bort greet them warmly and orders a bunch of ales for them. Their conversation and thoughts are quite revealing and Shaddar is silent for a few moments while he eavesdrops. He notes that they have varying degrees of intelligence – mostly on the low end of the scale…
“Why are you all still in costume?”
“What’s it all about, Jorin?”
“Is that him? The Boss? Ugly costume, innit?”
“Shhh!”
“We’re have a Guild Trial here? In the meadhall? A bit strange, that…”
“Probably a drinking contest.”
“Then you’ll lose for sure, eh? Might as well hang it up now! Har!”
Soon Shaddar wanders over and Jorin makes introductions. Shaddar only pays attention to the one fellow whose mind is sharp enough that he might prove useful to him: Helmnald Moonfast. The others? Well. One doesn’t learn the names of one’s dinner, does one? No. That would be tacky. Four men just as dumb as Jorin? One minion that stupid is more than enough! Now that those that he can not use have seen him and have learned where his hideout is located, they can not be allowed to talk…
“It looks like I’m having a four-course meal,” he thinks nastily, “but the separation of the recruit from my new feed-animals must come first.”
Shaddar motions to two different rooms and says, “Gentlemen! We will begin. If you will come with me into that room, Helmnald, and the rest will please wait for your turn to be interviewed in this room, we can get started.” He turns to Jorin and Bort and says, “Thank you, men. I will send for you when I have need.”
The humans all obey and Shaddar is once again amazed at how easy things are here. How simple and perfect for him it is. With not a flicker of fear or uncertainty, the four doomed men walk into the room and shut the door.
If he’s not careful he will lose his edge and grow soft – he resolves to never let that happen. Just because it is easy now, does not mean it will remain so.
He sends a mental command to Toothsnatcher and Loolipo to make sure none of the four dumb human’s leave the room they have just entered. He shuts his own door and turns to the man who might have enough utility to survive his encounter with Shaddar.
“Tell me about your background, Helmnald,” Shaddar prompts as he sits opposite the man.
“I work in the border zones, sir. Doing slight of hand shows, party tricks, that sort of thing. That’s what got me into trouble… I used to work in the Guild of Villains, but I got… well… er… bored.”
“You were banished to the border zone for the crime of being bored?”
“Well tricks and entertainment were my job, see? But it was too easy to just slip folks purses while I was doing the show. When the Guild found out I was kicked out at once for unlicensed villainy.”
“But I thought you were a member of the Guild? How then could your acts have been unlicensed?”
“I wasn’t in the department of larceny, was I? No, just worked for the entertainment captain. They don’t take kindly to villains crossing those kinds of lines and blurring the activities of villains everywhere,” Helmnald answers with a sigh, “Petty larceny was outside my bailiwick.”
“I see. And is the captain of the larceny a man with an eye-patch? A Flame Albion?”
“Oh, no, sir! Flame is the right-hand of the Guildmaster himself! He doesn’t do anything so tedious as run one of the Guild’s depatments. All of the department captains report to him and he takes the news to the Guildmaster.” Helmnald’s thoughts continue with slightly more information, “Not that anyone knows who that is – or even if it really is a ‘he’ at all. Far too secretive, if you ask me! And too political by half! I was better than their own burglars, that’s why they really wanted me gone – I made their lads look bad!”
Shaddar leans forward and asks, “Petty larceny? Were you good at it, then?”
The man blushes a bit as he answers, “Well… I don’t like to brag, sir, but yes. I was quite good.”
“Excellent. I just so happen to have an opening for captain of grand larceny in the Guild of Swashbuckling Rogues. Interested?”
“Grand,” Helmnald rolls the words as he says them slowly, “larceny? What’s that, sir?”
Shaddar speaks as patiently as he can, “You enjoy picking coins out of someone’s pocket? Or lifting an entire purse?”
“Yes. Petty larceny.”
“Grand larceny is merely emptying whole shops of their contents. It is doing what you love, but on a grand scale!”
The man’s eyes grow round as he whispers, “We can do that?”
“We can do whatever I want. Join us and you can do whatever you want.”
The man is tempted, but is smart enough to dig for more details. “Really? What kind of arrangement do you have with the Heroes?”
“The Heroes?” Shaddar asks with a laugh. “The Heroes. Ha! We do what we want in spite of the Heroes.”
“In… spite of the Heroes?”
Shaddar waves a hand in the air lazily as he continues, “The Heroes are far too busy drinking milk and tripping over their own feet to run away with their tails between their legs to have any kind of a say in how our guild operates. We are far above them, my friend,” his voice picks up power and excitement as he continues, "As are you! Who are those fools in the Guild of Villains to judge your talents unworthy? Bah! But don’t blame them – for it was destiny, Helmnald… Destiny! The reason they sent you away was so you could find us and live up to the true expression of your capabilities!”
The flattery is gaining a foothold on the Helmnald’s opinions. He rubs his stubble with one hand and mumbles, “Grand larceny? I’ve never considered anything like it before…”
“’Grand’ is so much better than ‘petty’,” Shaddar pushes gently.
“You know… it is, isn’t it?” The man begins to smile and Shaddar knows he has hooked another minion. A few seconds later the man verbalizes what Shaddar already knows by saying, “By the Mist! I’ll do it!”
“Good.”
“Where do I sign up, then? Do I get a Villain’s coin?” Shaddar sees in his thoughts that members of the Guild of Villains had a magical coin of some kind as a token of their membership.
“Yes, of course. You will get to wear the outfit of the Swashbuckling Rogue complete with mustache!” He hands Helmnald a paper mustache and the man raises one eyebrow critically.
“No disrespect meant, Boss, but… could I get my own outfit made to order? Y’see I know this haberdasher who does really fine work with clothes and wigs and such…”
“Excellent idea! In fact, see if he will make outfits to order based on just measurements! I will need more and higher quality outfits for some of our other guild members,” Shaddar says with satisfaction.
“Does it matter what I practice my skills on, Boss? Do you have someplace in mind for me to perform my first act of grand larceny?” Helmnald continues to roll the phrase slowly over his tongue as if experimenting with it.
“Not for now. I would only encourage you to return items that are of value to the guild, such as items made at the blacksmith’s, jewels, non-perishable foodstuffs, that sort of thing.”
Helmnald rubs his hands together. “Good. I have just the place then. I live near a blacksmith and whenever he mangles a horseshoe, he saves it in a pile so he can throw them at me when he sees me. I know exactly whose shop I’ll empty to the walls first, Boss…”
Shaddar chuckles.
The man continues, “In fact, I have an idea that might work this very night!”
Shaddar stands. “In that case, I’ll see you in the morning, Helmnald! And may I say: Good hunting and welcome to the Guild!”
Chapter 1 < Chapter 23 Chapter 25 >
Monday, November 19, 2012
Crossover - Chapter 23
It is almost close to the normal supper hour before Loolipo returns to the meadhall. Masaxle and Evicurra left some hours before, with the drow female having to run to keep up with the artist, so eager was he to reach his shop and begin work on a new style of artwork.
Loolipo has acquired many items since she left this morning. Shaddar is pleased. She pulls a brand new backpack from off one shoulder and reports.
“I was able to do all you asked, master. I did get caught once, I am ashamed to say,” she confesses.
“And?”
“Luckily we was all alone in a narrow part of the border zones, so I just held my shocking pincher staff on him until he passed out… or died… I dunno’ which. Since he was knocked out, I took everything he had – why should Toothsnatcher have all the fun?” She lays out a fine outfit and a fat purse. “I used some of the gold to buy some herbs from the shops. That makes the shopkeepers less wary, you know. You want to see what I got?”
“No. Go upstairs and show that to Cutt after you are done reporting to me.”
Loolipo gurgles in acceptance and continues, “I was able to buy some small lockpicks from a shifty-looking human and opened the scrollcase, master.” She hands it over, the lock clearly disengaged. “I didn’t open the end-cap at all, just like you said, so don’t blame me if there’s a trap inside there or something. I got the lock to pop open while I was eating my lunch – some kind of meat pie, very oddly spiced. Sheep they called it.”
Shaddar greedily takes the scrollcase while mentally absolving her of any liability for the contents and dismissing her. He is quite anxious to see what his ex-master had hidden away so carefully.
Loolipo rushes out of the room and up the stairs, her thoughts worried that the scrollcase is indeed trapped and will soon explode. Shaddar hardly thinks so. His master was too arrogant to believe that anyone would be able to steal his possessions, certainly not in the heart of the illithid city. The lock was just there to insure that a thrall did not accidentally view the contents most likely. No, it is not trapped.
He goes upstairs to his room to insure that he has privacy while he examines the contents. Once the door is closed and locked, he hurries to a desk and opens the end-cap. Two items slide out. A scrap of vellum and a small booklet, both of them rolled to fit inside the case.
The booklet looks well-worn and much poured over, so Shaddar examines it first, thinking that it must be the more valuable of the two items. And perhaps it is, but Shaddar is frustrated to discover that although over half the pages are filled with symbols, the script is totally unknown to him. Perhaps it is encoded? Or a rare language?
He reaches into his robe to touch the brainmate and ask it what it might know of this puzzle.
“What is needed, Supplanter?”
“Do you recognize this… code?” Shaddar asks.
“I do. But unfortunately I do not know the key. I recognize it as the personal cipher of Felinxtrath, but unlike my parent, my knowledge is limited to what was granted to me for this mission,” the brainmate responds.
Shaddar is a bit frustrated by this temporary setback. He resolves to obtain or learn some magic soon in order to translate the code and read his master’s secrets. But that will come later, for now, he reaches for the second document that was inside the scrollcase and is gratified to see that although it is written in his ex-master’s handwriting, it is in the standard script of the illithid. He reads it slowly, several times, pondering each item on the checklist:
This is completely fascinating.
The bubble? Is that a reference to this pocket dimension? It must be.
Shaddar decides to ask the brainmate what it knows of this. Obviously the Elder Brain knew – so perhaps it will as well.
“What is this list mean? What do you know about ‘the bubble’?” he asks.
“The bubble is part of the experiment. It contains the world that Felinxtrath was attempting to create. I was sent to observe and keep track of various elements of the test. Especially aspects of Felinxtrath’s knowledge retention.”
“His knowledge retention?”
“Indeed.”
“What can you tell me about the experiment?” Shaddar asks.
“I do not know all of the details. My space is limited for knowledge, as I have mentioned. What specifically do you wish information about?”
“What about ‘the settlement’ and ‘The Well’ that are mentioned in this checklist?”
“I do know that part of the experiment was to create a colony of illithids in the new world,” the brainmate answers.
“To what end? As a spawning pool that would be safe from intrusion?”
“I am not privy to that datum. I do not know the purpose of the settlement, just that there was to be one. My primary function in the experiment was to advise, record, and track the passage of time. I know exactly how long you have been here, for example.”
“I see. And are you familiar with ‘the sign of authority’?”
The brainmate expresses a feeling of confusion about this phrase, so Shaddar moves back to a subject that it seems fully conversant on: time.
“So time flows differently here? In what sense?”
“Each year that passes here is but a second in the real world where our great city lies.”
Shaddar’s tentacles twitch with excitement. “I see. So if we were to go back it would be as if almost no time had passed for all of my fellow illithids?”
“Yes. In theory. If the experiment goes as expected. That’s one reason I was sent to track time – I will be able to use the perceptions of the illithids who did not travel here as a basis of comparison and calculate the exact time flow differential.”
“Tell me about ‘deterioration’? Is this Realm going to decay and collapse? Is it not self-sustaining?”
“I have no information about that possibility.”
Shaddar thanks the brainmate and disconnects from it.
He lacks a complete picture, but makes the conclusion that this entire world is the result of Felinxtrath’s experiment. Not everything went as expected with the procedure, since the lab exploded and his master perished. But Shaddar is prepared to form his own theory as to what this place is about – or what it was about at any rate.
He thinks that perhaps this was to be a world filled with semi-intelligent cattle for his kind. A solution to the problems and dangers of raiding the surface world for brains where warriors would fight back. They do not fight back here.
Well…
Not effectively.
This food source was to be consumed by a newly spawned group of illithids and then… What? Hmm…
He ponders for a moment about the tenth item on the list. Evidently the four slaves were supposed to survive the experiment, but instead when it ran totally out of control, they were utterly consumed by it. That much of the experiment did not go according to plan – what else might have failed or gone haywire with the experiment that he is unaware of?
And where are the other illithids that are mentioned in his ex-master’s checklist? The brainmate’s explanations make it clear that “the settlement” was to be populated by those of the master race, so where are they? Because it does not seem that the people here have seen or heard of his kind before.
Unless…
Could the Lords of the city actually be members of his race? Could the illithids from this settlement be ruling and controlling this world from behind the shadows? It is possible. It is a shade of his own plans for this world, after all. And it would explain the cattle’s universal fear of the Lords of the city.
He must find out more about the Lords of the Realm… Assuredly this is so.
Chapter 1 < Chapter 22 Chapter 24 >
Loolipo has acquired many items since she left this morning. Shaddar is pleased. She pulls a brand new backpack from off one shoulder and reports.
“I was able to do all you asked, master. I did get caught once, I am ashamed to say,” she confesses.
“And?”
“Luckily we was all alone in a narrow part of the border zones, so I just held my shocking pincher staff on him until he passed out… or died… I dunno’ which. Since he was knocked out, I took everything he had – why should Toothsnatcher have all the fun?” She lays out a fine outfit and a fat purse. “I used some of the gold to buy some herbs from the shops. That makes the shopkeepers less wary, you know. You want to see what I got?”
“No. Go upstairs and show that to Cutt after you are done reporting to me.”
Loolipo gurgles in acceptance and continues, “I was able to buy some small lockpicks from a shifty-looking human and opened the scrollcase, master.” She hands it over, the lock clearly disengaged. “I didn’t open the end-cap at all, just like you said, so don’t blame me if there’s a trap inside there or something. I got the lock to pop open while I was eating my lunch – some kind of meat pie, very oddly spiced. Sheep they called it.”
Shaddar greedily takes the scrollcase while mentally absolving her of any liability for the contents and dismissing her. He is quite anxious to see what his ex-master had hidden away so carefully.
Loolipo rushes out of the room and up the stairs, her thoughts worried that the scrollcase is indeed trapped and will soon explode. Shaddar hardly thinks so. His master was too arrogant to believe that anyone would be able to steal his possessions, certainly not in the heart of the illithid city. The lock was just there to insure that a thrall did not accidentally view the contents most likely. No, it is not trapped.
He goes upstairs to his room to insure that he has privacy while he examines the contents. Once the door is closed and locked, he hurries to a desk and opens the end-cap. Two items slide out. A scrap of vellum and a small booklet, both of them rolled to fit inside the case.
The booklet looks well-worn and much poured over, so Shaddar examines it first, thinking that it must be the more valuable of the two items. And perhaps it is, but Shaddar is frustrated to discover that although over half the pages are filled with symbols, the script is totally unknown to him. Perhaps it is encoded? Or a rare language?
He reaches into his robe to touch the brainmate and ask it what it might know of this puzzle.
“What is needed, Supplanter?”
“Do you recognize this… code?” Shaddar asks.
“I do. But unfortunately I do not know the key. I recognize it as the personal cipher of Felinxtrath, but unlike my parent, my knowledge is limited to what was granted to me for this mission,” the brainmate responds.
Shaddar is a bit frustrated by this temporary setback. He resolves to obtain or learn some magic soon in order to translate the code and read his master’s secrets. But that will come later, for now, he reaches for the second document that was inside the scrollcase and is gratified to see that although it is written in his ex-master’s handwriting, it is in the standard script of the illithid. He reads it slowly, several times, pondering each item on the checklist:
Once I Arrive:
1. Confirm the shape and size of the bubble.
2. Travel to the settlement. The Well should be no more than two hours walk due south from the center point.
3. Give the settlement the sign of authority.
4. Inspect the city and the runes. Insure that all was created as I have planned.
5. Inspect the slave races and sample some of the wares to be found there.
6. Collect the research done by the settlement since the time of their creation.
7. Experiment with the flow of time to insure it is proceeding as planned.
8. Interview each member of the settlement to glean as much knowledge from each member as possible.
9. Note how soon deterioration begins. Return to the city once the rate of decay is fixed.
10. Inspect condition of the four slaves who will power the experiment. Note any damage.
11. Verify the time-flow differential and knowledge retention levels.
12. Report to the Elder Brain and plan how to revise and use this new technique to the best effect...
This is completely fascinating.
The bubble? Is that a reference to this pocket dimension? It must be.
Shaddar decides to ask the brainmate what it knows of this. Obviously the Elder Brain knew – so perhaps it will as well.
“What is this list mean? What do you know about ‘the bubble’?” he asks.
“The bubble is part of the experiment. It contains the world that Felinxtrath was attempting to create. I was sent to observe and keep track of various elements of the test. Especially aspects of Felinxtrath’s knowledge retention.”
“His knowledge retention?”
“Indeed.”
“What can you tell me about the experiment?” Shaddar asks.
“I do not know all of the details. My space is limited for knowledge, as I have mentioned. What specifically do you wish information about?”
“What about ‘the settlement’ and ‘The Well’ that are mentioned in this checklist?”
“I do know that part of the experiment was to create a colony of illithids in the new world,” the brainmate answers.
“To what end? As a spawning pool that would be safe from intrusion?”
“I am not privy to that datum. I do not know the purpose of the settlement, just that there was to be one. My primary function in the experiment was to advise, record, and track the passage of time. I know exactly how long you have been here, for example.”
“I see. And are you familiar with ‘the sign of authority’?”
The brainmate expresses a feeling of confusion about this phrase, so Shaddar moves back to a subject that it seems fully conversant on: time.
“So time flows differently here? In what sense?”
“Each year that passes here is but a second in the real world where our great city lies.”
Shaddar’s tentacles twitch with excitement. “I see. So if we were to go back it would be as if almost no time had passed for all of my fellow illithids?”
“Yes. In theory. If the experiment goes as expected. That’s one reason I was sent to track time – I will be able to use the perceptions of the illithids who did not travel here as a basis of comparison and calculate the exact time flow differential.”
“Tell me about ‘deterioration’? Is this Realm going to decay and collapse? Is it not self-sustaining?”
“I have no information about that possibility.”
Shaddar thanks the brainmate and disconnects from it.
He lacks a complete picture, but makes the conclusion that this entire world is the result of Felinxtrath’s experiment. Not everything went as expected with the procedure, since the lab exploded and his master perished. But Shaddar is prepared to form his own theory as to what this place is about – or what it was about at any rate.
He thinks that perhaps this was to be a world filled with semi-intelligent cattle for his kind. A solution to the problems and dangers of raiding the surface world for brains where warriors would fight back. They do not fight back here.
Well…
Not effectively.
This food source was to be consumed by a newly spawned group of illithids and then… What? Hmm…
He ponders for a moment about the tenth item on the list. Evidently the four slaves were supposed to survive the experiment, but instead when it ran totally out of control, they were utterly consumed by it. That much of the experiment did not go according to plan – what else might have failed or gone haywire with the experiment that he is unaware of?
And where are the other illithids that are mentioned in his ex-master’s checklist? The brainmate’s explanations make it clear that “the settlement” was to be populated by those of the master race, so where are they? Because it does not seem that the people here have seen or heard of his kind before.
Unless…
Could the Lords of the city actually be members of his race? Could the illithids from this settlement be ruling and controlling this world from behind the shadows? It is possible. It is a shade of his own plans for this world, after all. And it would explain the cattle’s universal fear of the Lords of the city.
He must find out more about the Lords of the Realm… Assuredly this is so.
Chapter 1 < Chapter 22 Chapter 24 >
Crossover - Chapter 22
Shaddar leaves his room and continues up the stairs to visit with Jorin and Bort.
On his way up, he notes that he must begin to think about his long-term plans as well as the difficulties of today. He will need to instigate a new type of hobgoblin breeding and education program for the rising generation of hobgoblins. Their reproductive and maturity rates are such that within a few short decades, he will be able to remake their entire race in the image that he desires. The drow will be a bit more problematic, but Shaddar hopes that the artistic renaissance that Masaxle seems intent on bringing to his people will convince the mature drow to return to their ancient and proper traditions.
These thoughts are pushed to the back burner as he opens the door to the human’s rooms.
With disgust, Shaddar sees that Jorin is still hiding under the bed, even though the riot has long since ended.
“Yes, Boss?” Bort asks.
“I know your day was interrupted by the riot, but I wondered how much of your tasks you accomplished before that unhappy event?”
Bort nods, “We did visit with five or six lads who said they would come ‘round tonight to chat with you. Hopefully they still will since the riot seems to have ended earlier than normal. I didn’t get a chance to go to the library, but I grabbed this from one of the main gates. They are free for those who have never been to Big City before.” The man hands over a small parchment that has been poorly mass-produced, but is still legible.
Shaddar quickly reads it:
Shaddar is continually stunned at the utter innocence of these people. His thoughts focus on an apt metaphor, “It’s like they have never been sick and I have introduced the plague of polio. Soon many will be crippled – or worse...”
There are many interesting nuggets of knowledge within even this simple document. And a name, at least, of the master of Big City: High Lord Culderth’jura. Shaddar wonders how much freedom the people of this city have to travel.
“How difficult is it to leave the city?” he asks.
Bort seems a bit confused, “You just walk out, Boss. There’s no restrictions on movement here. And there’s lots of places out there… well, here… see for yourself.” And the man pulls out a well-worn map that also looks like a shoddy mass-produced item, much like the flyer.
Shaddar is amazed by this map.
So. He is not somewhere on the upper world at all, but in some kind of pocket dimension. No other explanation is possible given the spherical shape of the ‘whole world’.
Was it created by the experiment of Felinxtrath? Or was the experiment merely a method of accessing such a strange dimension?
If this world is really so tiny as is indicated on the map it also explains the childish names for the towns and cities. When there are only eight major cities, why would the people here need complex names?
“Many of these town’s names are clear, but what is distinctive about Pass Town?” he asks.
“There’s three passes through the mountains that all go through that spot so it’s a major trade route. Lots of merchandise gets traded and stored there, or so I hear.”
“And High City? Is this where the nobles of the Realm live? Of is it so named because of the mountains it is placed in?”
“Oh. I don’t know,” Bort says.
A somewhat muffled voice comes from under the bed as Jorin joins the conversation, “It’s called High City because that’s where all the Lords of the Realm live at.”
“There are no Lords who live in the city?”
“Oh, sure. We have some who live here, but mostly they like High City,” Jorin explains, “I’ve heard that they built the city just for their tastes and everyone who lives there serves them directly.”
Shaddar wonders if High City is filled with as many lunatics as Big City is, or if perhaps this is some kind of city-wide asylum. The circle of grey mist surrounding the map intrigues him.
“Tell me about this mist,” he demands.
Bort replies, “The Mist? It’s the end of the world. No one can go in there and come out alive.”
Jorin says, “And they say that… Demons live in the Mist…”
Bort rolls his eyes and continues, “Yeah, some folks do say that. There are also legends that say that all of the inhabitants first came from the Mists to populate the world. Well, except for the Elder Evils – but that’s just a foolish myth that I don't put much stock in.”
“Elder Evils? Tell me these tales,” Shaddar coaxes.
“That’s all I know really, just the name. Supposedly some kind of horrible and vile… I don’t know. Just an old story that the palehairs tell,” Bort shrugs as he answers carelessly.
“Very well,” Shaddar says thoughtfully. He will ask some of the drow about this tale. It is believed enough to be mentioned in the welcome letter to travelers, which he can only assume was approved by the Lords of the city. If they saw fit to mention it, even to brag about it, then it must have some importance.
Jorin pokes his nose from the edge of the bed and peers up at Shaddar as he asks, “Is the riot over, then, Boss?”
“Yes. You may cease your cowering.”
“What!?” Jorin begins to shimmy out from under the bed indignantly, “I’m not cowering! I’m… err… I’m cleaning under here!”
“Cleaning urine stains, perhaps?”
A dusty Jorin leaps to his feet with a flush in his cheeks, “Just what are you inferring?”
Shaddar shakes his head slowly and leaves the room while murmuring, “Oh, nothing at all, Jorin. I’ll leave you to your important, domestic endeavors.”
Bort begins laughing behind his hand at Jorin’s discomfiture as the door slips shut.
Chapter 1 < Chapter 21 Chapter 23 >
On his way up, he notes that he must begin to think about his long-term plans as well as the difficulties of today. He will need to instigate a new type of hobgoblin breeding and education program for the rising generation of hobgoblins. Their reproductive and maturity rates are such that within a few short decades, he will be able to remake their entire race in the image that he desires. The drow will be a bit more problematic, but Shaddar hopes that the artistic renaissance that Masaxle seems intent on bringing to his people will convince the mature drow to return to their ancient and proper traditions.
These thoughts are pushed to the back burner as he opens the door to the human’s rooms.
With disgust, Shaddar sees that Jorin is still hiding under the bed, even though the riot has long since ended.
“Yes, Boss?” Bort asks.
“I know your day was interrupted by the riot, but I wondered how much of your tasks you accomplished before that unhappy event?”
Bort nods, “We did visit with five or six lads who said they would come ‘round tonight to chat with you. Hopefully they still will since the riot seems to have ended earlier than normal. I didn’t get a chance to go to the library, but I grabbed this from one of the main gates. They are free for those who have never been to Big City before.” The man hands over a small parchment that has been poorly mass-produced, but is still legible.
Shaddar quickly reads it:
A Short History of Big City
Our fair city is the oldest in all of the Realm! Founded in the lost legends of time before the Lords of the Realm fought off the darkness and Elder Evils to bring light and peace for all races across the whole world.
As the oldest city in the world, it has grown to be the largest, with a huge population of some of the wealthiest merchant families in the Realm. Although not our capital city, Big City has a rich history of goodness and culture.
Of course, none of our good fortune would be possible without the Lords of the city who insure that everything about the location is run to perfection – making the entire land surrounding Big City into a jewel – The heartstone of the Realm!
There are currently several families of Lords who call Big City home, with the most powerful and glorious High Lord Culderth’jura gracing us all with his benevolent protection and watchful care. Thank you, Your Excellency!
All citizens are given full reign by the Lords of the city to act as we will here in Big City – and although some wander from the path of goodness that has been set, most of the people and those who serve the Lords of the city choose the better path. Living a good life brings it’s own rewards as we all know!
Our brave constables and Heroes serve the populace in maintaining order and rooting out the few pockets of evil and unnaturalness that remain in the Realm. Even when villains may riot, they will be ever vigilant to repulse and punish them with a holy purge. Fear not during your stay here – all will be well!
Do your part to keep Big City beautiful and a fit treasure for her Lords – and thank a constable when you see one for the brave work that they do each and every day!
There are many interesting nuggets of knowledge within even this simple document. And a name, at least, of the master of Big City: High Lord Culderth’jura. Shaddar wonders how much freedom the people of this city have to travel.
“How difficult is it to leave the city?” he asks.
Bort seems a bit confused, “You just walk out, Boss. There’s no restrictions on movement here. And there’s lots of places out there… well, here… see for yourself.” And the man pulls out a well-worn map that also looks like a shoddy mass-produced item, much like the flyer.
So. He is not somewhere on the upper world at all, but in some kind of pocket dimension. No other explanation is possible given the spherical shape of the ‘whole world’.
Was it created by the experiment of Felinxtrath? Or was the experiment merely a method of accessing such a strange dimension?
If this world is really so tiny as is indicated on the map it also explains the childish names for the towns and cities. When there are only eight major cities, why would the people here need complex names?
“Many of these town’s names are clear, but what is distinctive about Pass Town?” he asks.
“There’s three passes through the mountains that all go through that spot so it’s a major trade route. Lots of merchandise gets traded and stored there, or so I hear.”
“And High City? Is this where the nobles of the Realm live? Of is it so named because of the mountains it is placed in?”
“Oh. I don’t know,” Bort says.
A somewhat muffled voice comes from under the bed as Jorin joins the conversation, “It’s called High City because that’s where all the Lords of the Realm live at.”
“There are no Lords who live in the city?”
“Oh, sure. We have some who live here, but mostly they like High City,” Jorin explains, “I’ve heard that they built the city just for their tastes and everyone who lives there serves them directly.”
Shaddar wonders if High City is filled with as many lunatics as Big City is, or if perhaps this is some kind of city-wide asylum. The circle of grey mist surrounding the map intrigues him.
“Tell me about this mist,” he demands.
Bort replies, “The Mist? It’s the end of the world. No one can go in there and come out alive.”
Jorin says, “And they say that… Demons live in the Mist…”
Bort rolls his eyes and continues, “Yeah, some folks do say that. There are also legends that say that all of the inhabitants first came from the Mists to populate the world. Well, except for the Elder Evils – but that’s just a foolish myth that I don't put much stock in.”
“Elder Evils? Tell me these tales,” Shaddar coaxes.
“That’s all I know really, just the name. Supposedly some kind of horrible and vile… I don’t know. Just an old story that the palehairs tell,” Bort shrugs as he answers carelessly.
“Very well,” Shaddar says thoughtfully. He will ask some of the drow about this tale. It is believed enough to be mentioned in the welcome letter to travelers, which he can only assume was approved by the Lords of the city. If they saw fit to mention it, even to brag about it, then it must have some importance.
Jorin pokes his nose from the edge of the bed and peers up at Shaddar as he asks, “Is the riot over, then, Boss?”
“Yes. You may cease your cowering.”
“What!?” Jorin begins to shimmy out from under the bed indignantly, “I’m not cowering! I’m… err… I’m cleaning under here!”
“Cleaning urine stains, perhaps?”
A dusty Jorin leaps to his feet with a flush in his cheeks, “Just what are you inferring?”
Shaddar shakes his head slowly and leaves the room while murmuring, “Oh, nothing at all, Jorin. I’ll leave you to your important, domestic endeavors.”
Bort begins laughing behind his hand at Jorin’s discomfiture as the door slips shut.
Chapter 1 < Chapter 21 Chapter 23 >
Crossover - Chapter 21
Hawke disturbs the awkward silence, “What… What are you going to do now, Boss? The whole town will stay shut down all day. We have to let the lumpys clean things up as best they can.”
Shaddar turns his attention fully to the man. Yes. Might as well begin the fellow’s instruction.
“Excellent. That will give us time to discuss our future plans. Why don’t we begin with you telling me what you plan to say when the constables come knocking the next time? Hmm?”
“Uh… What do you want me to say?”
“You know these people better than I. I care not what you tell them, so long as the end result is that they go out the door without learning anything that is none of their affair. If there is something you need me or my other… associates… to do to assist you in this task, then let me know and I will insure that you have it. All I require is the illusion of normalcy.”
Hawke is surprised at the offer of support and verbalizes it by saying, “Thanks, Boss. I can do that. Heroes and constables are… well… they’re just as dumb as they look!” His thoughts continue, “In for a penny, in for a pound. I don’t have any choice but to be a real villain now – if I want to live! The Lords of the city will make sure we all stop breathing if they find us, so I’ll do me best work for the Boss. I have to.”
Shaddar is pleased that the human has so quickly discerned the nature of the box he now sits in. “Of course, he has even fewer options than that, for even the thought of turning us in will result in me making sure he stops breathing.”
Shaddar can see from Hawke’s thoughts that he believes that this is likely and he is quite frightened now. “I’ve never been in more danger in me life,” Hawke thinks, “Working with the Guild was one thing, but The Boss isn’t just a villain – oh, no! He’s really and truly… evil... How is that even possible? I thought that the Lords of the Realm rid the entire world of true evil ages ago! The world is clean from the taint of mortal evil!”
Shaddar finds these thoughts ludicrous and his tentacles jerk wildly with amusement as he thinks, “Nope. Not even close. What a simplistic notion! ‘No evil in the world?’ Pfft. What fools these creatures are!”
Hawke continues speaking, “Let me think about how I’ll do it, Boss. I have some ideas about how to make sure the authorities leave us alone, but they need refinement. And now, if you’ll excuse me - I need a few moments to myself...” The man picks up a bottle of hard liquor and walks quickly back into his room with his thoughts churning. He doesn’t want to get drunk, but he may need more than one shot to steady his nerves after the shocking revelations he has endured this day.
“As you wish, Hawke,” Shaddar murmurs kindly.
The question of Hawke has been settled to Shaddar’s satisfaction. For the time being, at least.
“It is unfortunate that I can not create new thralls at the moment,” Shaddar thinks as he watches at his newest minion depart, “It would be useful to completely insure the future obedience of Hawke.” Usually it takes a group of illithids working together to summon the psychic energy required to permanently bind another being to service. Perhaps he can find others of his race? But – this close to the surface, with a group of sheep who have never seen the results of an illithid feeding? No. It is not likely that there are more of his kind nearby. Of course, it is not unheard of for a single potent member of his race to learn to create thralls alone, so he will just have to be patient and become incredibly powerful in his own right.
“An excellent plan… But this is enough woolgathering! Back to work!”
Shaddar scans the building mentally to see how the rest of his minions fare and what they are up to.
Loolipo has still not returned from the tasks she was given in the slums. Not unexpected.
Everyone else seems to be here and are working as he instructed, with the exception of Jorin and Bort who are still fearfully hiding in their room.
Shaddar first visits with the drow whose rooms are on the first floor. Evicurra is most glad to see him.
“Oh, benefactor! I feel guilty just sitting in my room. Is there not some task that I can do? I enjoy work and helping others and you have been so kind,” she gushes while petting her silk dress absently with one hand.
“Yes, you may be helpful. The normal help for Hawke left early, so I’m sure there is some assistance you can render. Come.”
Shaddar leads the way into the kitchen area and knocks on Hawke’s door.
The door opens and Shaddar explains that he has a part-time assistant, should he desire it, when Widow Cottondur and her daughters are not on the premises. Hawke has had more than a couple shots and is a bit pickled, but he nods enthusiastically.
“Sure. She can clean up and maybe make us some supper, eh?”
“Right away!” the woman says cheerfully. Shaddar is a bit concerned that Hawke will recognize the elvish lilt to her voice, but he is distracted – thinking about other matters…
Shaddar leaves them both to return to his tour of the building. He next visits Masaxle in his room.
Apparently, Cutt delivered the box of parchment and charcoals because now two entire walls are plastered with designs and mock-ups of architecture and sculpture. All of it with a distinctive drow style. The man is certainly a talented artist with a fine and steady hand.
Masaxle waves his hand to sweep past all of his work and speaks excitedly, “Behold, Avatar! I have captured the spirit of the vision you shared with me and have begun to expand upon the themes I saw!” Shaddar makes the appropriate noises, but he is a little concerned. The drow looks distinctly feverish and wan. Shaddar wonders if he has stopped to eat or drink all day.
“It will do me little good to have such a talented and potentially useful minion abuse themselves into an early grave. That would be most inefficient. I will see to this problem,” Shaddar thinks.
Masaxle paces around the room with a manic bounce of energy. “So many ideas! But, Avatar! Drawing is not enough! No! I must create in stone what I have seen – what I feel! Tell me, Avatar what should I carve first? How large should it be? Where shall I display it once it is done?”
Shaddar chuckles at the infectious excitement of the drow, “Calmly, Masaxle! There is time for all things.”
“But my people must be made to see what they really are! This art moves me in ways I have never heard of before and I wish to share it with my people who are downtrodden under the oppression of a cultural amnesia! Guide me, Oh Avatar!”
“Of course,” Shaddar soothes, “What you should carve first is a new design. Allow my to describe it to you: Create a black spider, like the one in this drawing,” he points, “but replace the head with an upraised representation of my own demeanor. Your first physical design should be a combination of praise for your heritage and gratitude to the Avatar that has returned it to you.”
“Of course!” the man is bouncing on his heels. “Forgive me for not thinking of it myself!”
Shaddar waves this oversight away, “Blame not yourself, Masaxle! After all, I am the Avatar of Inspiration – it’s my job.” Inside he is laughing. By putting an illithid spin on the new drow art resurgence, he will tie their entire culture to him. He wonders if the distinctive head shape will trigger any memories in any of the drow Elders? That will be something to look for once it is unveiled: recognition.
“Avatar, I must have a bigger place than this to work. May I be permitted to return to my own workshop? There I already have the tools and the lumpy servants to assist me in completing the statue quickly.”
“Will you be disturbed there?”
“No. I will tell anyone who asks that I have been given a special commission for a most important person.”
“Very well. Pack your drawings and prepare to depart for your workshop.” Shaddar is pleased. The less the natives are out of their normal element and routines, the less suspicion there will be. He raises on finger and continues speaking, “However, do not yet show anyone not in our company your work. Store it. Protect it. And when you have enough, we will display it all at once for maximum impact.”
“Like an art galley showing? Like an exhibit?”
“Exactly. This whole city will become the locale for your opening exhibit. Now, I may send someone with you in order to see to your needs. For now, begin packing your new portfolio up.”
“Oh, yes! At once!”
Shaddar walks out to chat with Evicurra about Masaxle. As he explains that the man is completely lost in his work, he can see an amazing amount of compassion in the woman’s thoughts. Most unlike a proper drow woman, but he is willing to use whatever advantage he can get. Shaddar asks her to ensure that the artist is taken care of in terms of warmth, food, drink, and sleep and she agrees most happily to accompany him and insure that he stays in good health.
This done, Shaddar walks upstairs to see how his thralls are doing. From their thoughts much progress is being made. He visits the gnome first.
Cutt has unloaded and sorted all of the gear and alchemical paraphernalia that they purchased earlier. Cutt is very excited again with all of the goods he has to work with and chatters on aimlessly, as if Shaddar cares about the minor details of his labors. No, what most concerns Shaddar is the thrall’s feet.
The gnome has taken his new boots off and Shaddar is not sure he approves of this. He is certain that he told all of his thralls to remain in costume at all times! The gnome is limping around the room that has been set aside for his alchemy lab with his feet swaddled with cotton rags. Clearly he has many painful blisters. Shaddar decides that he will let the minor disobedience slide this time. “My help must remain functional, I suppose. I’m sure I can find some way to passively-aggressively make him pay in full for the flaunting of my rules later.”
As a down payment, Shaddar leaves the room without saying a word in response to the gnome’s prattle. He moves across the hall to his own chambers where he can sense Toothsnatcher and the hobgoblins working.
Shaddar notes with satisfaction that the door to his room has been repaired and re-hung. Inside, the minotaur, Kug, and the three hobgoblins from the brothel are hard at work, repairing the window, by boarding it up.
Kug smiles with a toothy maw as he sees Shaddar, “Master! Look what we done! I sent Kodarm out for the stuff to fix it up.”
The scrawny hobgoblin male looks a bit sheepish and adds, “If you wanted us to put in new glass, I can do that, but I’ll have to go talk to the palehair glaziers and I didn’t want to go that far without knowing what you wished.”
“No, this will be fine,” Shaddar says. He turns to Toothsnatcher and mentally queries, “And what of the strength-building exercises and the combat training with Kug?”
Toothsnatcher snorts a bit as he replies verbally, “We did all that. The weak ones will take a while to get into shape, but it’ll happen eventually. Kug and me had a grand time. He’s a good listener and follows my movements well. He’d be dead in minutes alone in the Underdark, but up here? He’ll wreck some faces good.”
Kug slaps his hands together and barks, “Yeah! When can I do some of that, Master? Me can’t wait to crunch some humans! I’m ready!” Seeing that Shaddar is not quite enthusiastic, Kug pleads his case further, “I know there won’t be many peoples out there today, but there will be many strong hobgoblins working at moving rocks – maybe I can get them to join our army, huh?”
“An impressive notion, Kug… Very well. You and Toothsnatcher may go hunting. Bring back all the spoils you can and tell any hobgoblins who feel as you do to visit the meadhall later tonight.”
Kug is ablaze with excitement! It is clear from his thoughts that there is a growing bond, or some one-way hero-worship at least, between the hobgoblin and the minotaur. Fine. Both of them head out after Toothsnatcher tells the other hobgoblins to finish the window repair while they are gone.
Chapter 1 < Chapter 20 Chapter 22 >
Shaddar turns his attention fully to the man. Yes. Might as well begin the fellow’s instruction.
“Excellent. That will give us time to discuss our future plans. Why don’t we begin with you telling me what you plan to say when the constables come knocking the next time? Hmm?”
“Uh… What do you want me to say?”
“You know these people better than I. I care not what you tell them, so long as the end result is that they go out the door without learning anything that is none of their affair. If there is something you need me or my other… associates… to do to assist you in this task, then let me know and I will insure that you have it. All I require is the illusion of normalcy.”
Hawke is surprised at the offer of support and verbalizes it by saying, “Thanks, Boss. I can do that. Heroes and constables are… well… they’re just as dumb as they look!” His thoughts continue, “In for a penny, in for a pound. I don’t have any choice but to be a real villain now – if I want to live! The Lords of the city will make sure we all stop breathing if they find us, so I’ll do me best work for the Boss. I have to.”
Shaddar is pleased that the human has so quickly discerned the nature of the box he now sits in. “Of course, he has even fewer options than that, for even the thought of turning us in will result in me making sure he stops breathing.”
Shaddar can see from Hawke’s thoughts that he believes that this is likely and he is quite frightened now. “I’ve never been in more danger in me life,” Hawke thinks, “Working with the Guild was one thing, but The Boss isn’t just a villain – oh, no! He’s really and truly… evil... How is that even possible? I thought that the Lords of the Realm rid the entire world of true evil ages ago! The world is clean from the taint of mortal evil!”
Shaddar finds these thoughts ludicrous and his tentacles jerk wildly with amusement as he thinks, “Nope. Not even close. What a simplistic notion! ‘No evil in the world?’ Pfft. What fools these creatures are!”
Hawke continues speaking, “Let me think about how I’ll do it, Boss. I have some ideas about how to make sure the authorities leave us alone, but they need refinement. And now, if you’ll excuse me - I need a few moments to myself...” The man picks up a bottle of hard liquor and walks quickly back into his room with his thoughts churning. He doesn’t want to get drunk, but he may need more than one shot to steady his nerves after the shocking revelations he has endured this day.
“As you wish, Hawke,” Shaddar murmurs kindly.
The question of Hawke has been settled to Shaddar’s satisfaction. For the time being, at least.
“It is unfortunate that I can not create new thralls at the moment,” Shaddar thinks as he watches at his newest minion depart, “It would be useful to completely insure the future obedience of Hawke.” Usually it takes a group of illithids working together to summon the psychic energy required to permanently bind another being to service. Perhaps he can find others of his race? But – this close to the surface, with a group of sheep who have never seen the results of an illithid feeding? No. It is not likely that there are more of his kind nearby. Of course, it is not unheard of for a single potent member of his race to learn to create thralls alone, so he will just have to be patient and become incredibly powerful in his own right.
“An excellent plan… But this is enough woolgathering! Back to work!”
Shaddar scans the building mentally to see how the rest of his minions fare and what they are up to.
Loolipo has still not returned from the tasks she was given in the slums. Not unexpected.
Everyone else seems to be here and are working as he instructed, with the exception of Jorin and Bort who are still fearfully hiding in their room.
Shaddar first visits with the drow whose rooms are on the first floor. Evicurra is most glad to see him.
“Oh, benefactor! I feel guilty just sitting in my room. Is there not some task that I can do? I enjoy work and helping others and you have been so kind,” she gushes while petting her silk dress absently with one hand.
“Yes, you may be helpful. The normal help for Hawke left early, so I’m sure there is some assistance you can render. Come.”
Shaddar leads the way into the kitchen area and knocks on Hawke’s door.
The door opens and Shaddar explains that he has a part-time assistant, should he desire it, when Widow Cottondur and her daughters are not on the premises. Hawke has had more than a couple shots and is a bit pickled, but he nods enthusiastically.
“Sure. She can clean up and maybe make us some supper, eh?”
“Right away!” the woman says cheerfully. Shaddar is a bit concerned that Hawke will recognize the elvish lilt to her voice, but he is distracted – thinking about other matters…
Shaddar leaves them both to return to his tour of the building. He next visits Masaxle in his room.
Apparently, Cutt delivered the box of parchment and charcoals because now two entire walls are plastered with designs and mock-ups of architecture and sculpture. All of it with a distinctive drow style. The man is certainly a talented artist with a fine and steady hand.
Masaxle waves his hand to sweep past all of his work and speaks excitedly, “Behold, Avatar! I have captured the spirit of the vision you shared with me and have begun to expand upon the themes I saw!” Shaddar makes the appropriate noises, but he is a little concerned. The drow looks distinctly feverish and wan. Shaddar wonders if he has stopped to eat or drink all day.
“It will do me little good to have such a talented and potentially useful minion abuse themselves into an early grave. That would be most inefficient. I will see to this problem,” Shaddar thinks.
Masaxle paces around the room with a manic bounce of energy. “So many ideas! But, Avatar! Drawing is not enough! No! I must create in stone what I have seen – what I feel! Tell me, Avatar what should I carve first? How large should it be? Where shall I display it once it is done?”
Shaddar chuckles at the infectious excitement of the drow, “Calmly, Masaxle! There is time for all things.”
“But my people must be made to see what they really are! This art moves me in ways I have never heard of before and I wish to share it with my people who are downtrodden under the oppression of a cultural amnesia! Guide me, Oh Avatar!”
“Of course,” Shaddar soothes, “What you should carve first is a new design. Allow my to describe it to you: Create a black spider, like the one in this drawing,” he points, “but replace the head with an upraised representation of my own demeanor. Your first physical design should be a combination of praise for your heritage and gratitude to the Avatar that has returned it to you.”
“Of course!” the man is bouncing on his heels. “Forgive me for not thinking of it myself!”
Shaddar waves this oversight away, “Blame not yourself, Masaxle! After all, I am the Avatar of Inspiration – it’s my job.” Inside he is laughing. By putting an illithid spin on the new drow art resurgence, he will tie their entire culture to him. He wonders if the distinctive head shape will trigger any memories in any of the drow Elders? That will be something to look for once it is unveiled: recognition.
“Avatar, I must have a bigger place than this to work. May I be permitted to return to my own workshop? There I already have the tools and the lumpy servants to assist me in completing the statue quickly.”
“Will you be disturbed there?”
“No. I will tell anyone who asks that I have been given a special commission for a most important person.”
“Very well. Pack your drawings and prepare to depart for your workshop.” Shaddar is pleased. The less the natives are out of their normal element and routines, the less suspicion there will be. He raises on finger and continues speaking, “However, do not yet show anyone not in our company your work. Store it. Protect it. And when you have enough, we will display it all at once for maximum impact.”
“Like an art galley showing? Like an exhibit?”
“Exactly. This whole city will become the locale for your opening exhibit. Now, I may send someone with you in order to see to your needs. For now, begin packing your new portfolio up.”
“Oh, yes! At once!”
Shaddar walks out to chat with Evicurra about Masaxle. As he explains that the man is completely lost in his work, he can see an amazing amount of compassion in the woman’s thoughts. Most unlike a proper drow woman, but he is willing to use whatever advantage he can get. Shaddar asks her to ensure that the artist is taken care of in terms of warmth, food, drink, and sleep and she agrees most happily to accompany him and insure that he stays in good health.
This done, Shaddar walks upstairs to see how his thralls are doing. From their thoughts much progress is being made. He visits the gnome first.
Cutt has unloaded and sorted all of the gear and alchemical paraphernalia that they purchased earlier. Cutt is very excited again with all of the goods he has to work with and chatters on aimlessly, as if Shaddar cares about the minor details of his labors. No, what most concerns Shaddar is the thrall’s feet.
The gnome has taken his new boots off and Shaddar is not sure he approves of this. He is certain that he told all of his thralls to remain in costume at all times! The gnome is limping around the room that has been set aside for his alchemy lab with his feet swaddled with cotton rags. Clearly he has many painful blisters. Shaddar decides that he will let the minor disobedience slide this time. “My help must remain functional, I suppose. I’m sure I can find some way to passively-aggressively make him pay in full for the flaunting of my rules later.”
As a down payment, Shaddar leaves the room without saying a word in response to the gnome’s prattle. He moves across the hall to his own chambers where he can sense Toothsnatcher and the hobgoblins working.
Shaddar notes with satisfaction that the door to his room has been repaired and re-hung. Inside, the minotaur, Kug, and the three hobgoblins from the brothel are hard at work, repairing the window, by boarding it up.
Kug smiles with a toothy maw as he sees Shaddar, “Master! Look what we done! I sent Kodarm out for the stuff to fix it up.”
The scrawny hobgoblin male looks a bit sheepish and adds, “If you wanted us to put in new glass, I can do that, but I’ll have to go talk to the palehair glaziers and I didn’t want to go that far without knowing what you wished.”
“No, this will be fine,” Shaddar says. He turns to Toothsnatcher and mentally queries, “And what of the strength-building exercises and the combat training with Kug?”
Toothsnatcher snorts a bit as he replies verbally, “We did all that. The weak ones will take a while to get into shape, but it’ll happen eventually. Kug and me had a grand time. He’s a good listener and follows my movements well. He’d be dead in minutes alone in the Underdark, but up here? He’ll wreck some faces good.”
Kug slaps his hands together and barks, “Yeah! When can I do some of that, Master? Me can’t wait to crunch some humans! I’m ready!” Seeing that Shaddar is not quite enthusiastic, Kug pleads his case further, “I know there won’t be many peoples out there today, but there will be many strong hobgoblins working at moving rocks – maybe I can get them to join our army, huh?”
“An impressive notion, Kug… Very well. You and Toothsnatcher may go hunting. Bring back all the spoils you can and tell any hobgoblins who feel as you do to visit the meadhall later tonight.”
Kug is ablaze with excitement! It is clear from his thoughts that there is a growing bond, or some one-way hero-worship at least, between the hobgoblin and the minotaur. Fine. Both of them head out after Toothsnatcher tells the other hobgoblins to finish the window repair while they are gone.
Chapter 1 < Chapter 20 Chapter 22 >
Sunday, November 18, 2012
AAR: November 17, 2012 - Drunk and Disorderly
Woods are standard areas and act as difficult terrain. Flat rock formations can be walked on at no movement penalty by models.
Six markers are placed around the map, half by each player. They are turned upside-down so the numbers can not be seen as they are placed.
Chainsawz Ladz:
HQ - Mega-Warboss Chainsaw (Master of the WAAAGH!)
HQ - Big Mek (Shokk attack gun)
Elites - 15x Kommandoz (Nob with power claw, 2x Rokkit)
Elites - 11x Tank Bustaz
Troops - 10x Gretchin (Runtherd)
Troops - 30x Boyz (Nob with power claw)
Troops - 30x Boyz (Nob with power claw)
Heavy Support - 3x Lobba gunz (6x Extra crew, Runtherd, 3x Ammo runts)Heavy Support - 8x Flash Gitz (Kaptain Krunktoof, Painboy, Cyborks, Blastas, Shootier)
"Ol' Boomy! Whar iz youse? We iz here ta perferm an intr'venshun!"
Dark Purifiers
HQ - Antonidus Aurelius (Chapter master, Master-crafted power sword)
HQ - Captain (Thunder hammer)
Elites - Dreadnought (Power fist, Multi-melta)Elites - 10x Terminators (2x Cyclone missile launchers, 2x Chain-fists, Power fists)
Troops - 10x Tactical Marines (Flamer, Missile launcher)
Troops - 10x Tactical Marines (Melta, Heavy bolter)
Troops - 6x Sniper Scouts with Sgt. Immortus (Missile launcher)
Heavy Support - Land Raider Redeemer (Multi-metla)
"A divine intervention - from the Emperor! Spread out and find the perp, brothers..."
Dark Purist wins the infiltrator roll-off and gets to place his snipers before the kommandoz.
The six yellow questions marks are the possible objective markers. Each marker is labeled with a number, 1 to 6 on the bottom.
The objective number everyone is looking for is randomly rolled up as #2. But which marker could it be?
Mob1 forms up behind the hill, closely packed next to Mob2 which is lead by Warboss Chainsaw.
The Flash Gitz are close to the center, spread in thin ranks to present maximum firepower to the 'umies.
The Big Mek has a small following of gretchin with him to help herd the snotlings into position for his massive shokk attack gun (and to soak up bullets meant for him).
The Tank Bustaz are formed up and hoping to drink some high-grade motor oil later in the day, while the Lobbaz are spread out and hiding behind the rock formation to the south. The Kommandoz position themselves to respond to any threats to the big gunz crew, and stand ready to explore the southern area for the missing drunkard.
The first group is made up of Tactical Squad1 lead by the Chapter Master and the Terminators who are lead by the Captain.
The southern strike team has the heavy support units of the Dreadnought and the Land Raider tank, with Tactical Squad3 ready to embark and prove useful in the hunt.
The Chapter Master explains to the Land Raider crew the principle of being an "Unyielding Anvil" - this will allow the tank to act as a scoring unit. He also has a long discussion with the Terminator squad about the same topic and further inspires them to act as the "Hammer of Righteousness", which will allow them to re-roll poor wound dice throws.
Unfortunately, it is only an empty fungus beer bottle, covered in drool. The marker is #1, not the sought-after #2.
"Is the drool fresh?" Sergeant Immortus asks.
"Um... I have no fear, but I don't want to check that and I'm not going to, m'kay?"
Both Mobs run to the south.
The Flash Gitz move forward to get into range on the Snipers.
The Kommandoz stretch their line to cover the open gap that leads from the marine side of the table to the ork side.
And he looks bad.
"He musta put some si'co'dellic mushroomz in dat fungus beer! He iz trippin' out!"
One of the Tank Bustaz rolls him over so he won't choke on his own tongue. Warboss Chainsaw wants him alive, after all.
- The Tank Bustaz can see two huge targets and they fire off a stream of rokkits, but they are hopelessly out of range.
- The Flash Gitz and the Kommandoz create a horrible cross fire of rokkits, explosive slugs, and beams of pure radiation all focusing on the Snipers. Four of them die horrible deaths... Sergent Immortus and one other scout hunker down and vow vengeance for their fallen brothers.
- The Lobbaz pound a terrific volume of fire onto the position of Tactical Squad3, hoping to kill the majority of them before they can gain the protection of the Land Raider's interior. Despite using all of their ammo runts, they only manage to kill 2 marines.
- The Big Mek takes aim at Tactical Squad1 and launches a screaming snotling through the warp. There is a strange, wet sound that comes from the rock formation just next to the marines as the projectile misses. The snotling has materialized inside the stone and it begins to seep blood from the cracks and seams in the rock. "That's just foul!"
Tactical Squad3 embarks into the Land Raider and it growls up the middle. The Dreadnought is on it's southern flank.
The Terminators move up the hill while Tactical Squad1 move through the northern gap.
- The Snipers and the assault cannon on the Land Raider both focus on the Tank Bustaz. Four of them die trying to protect the fallen figure of Ol' Boomy.
- The Dreadnought opens up on the Kommandoz and kills 2.
- Tactical Squad1 shoots at the Flash Gitz, but their weapons are just out of range.
- The Terminators can range in on the Flash Gitz with no trouble, however. They fire a stream of krak missiles at the tough orc specialists. One Flash Gitz goes down in a spray of gore!
The Tank Bustaz charge towards the huge tank with big, excited eyes. Will they get to drink the savory engine oil from this monster? They hope so!
The Flash Gitz move towards the northern gap while Mob1 takes their original position.
Mob2 secures the objective.
The Kommandoz move forward to engage the Dreadnought, hoping to destroy it, but they'll settle for using the melee to avoid getting obliterated or burned alive by the tank!
- The Tank Bustaz shoot with wild excitement at the tank, but their rokkits fail to penetrate the tough armor. Only a couple of sooty dents are produced, despite their zeal.
- The Lobbaz shift targets to the snipers and a lucky shell explodes directly over Sergeant Immortus' location. He's down! The lone sniper checks his ammo levels and gets ready for a bit of payback...
- The Flash Gitz open fire on Tactical Squad1 and three of the space marines of obliterated by the massively overpowered energy weapons.
- The Big Mek also takes aim at Tactical Squad1 and fires a short burst of snotlings at them. His aim is much better this time as two space marines suddenly find insane snotlings inside their powered armor! "Get it off! ARRRRGH!" "Vile Xenos! NUUURGH!" Thud. Thud.
- The Kommandoz attack the Dreadnought. Their rokkits do nothing as the machine of war swats them out of the air and the swirling close combat results in no lasting damage to either side.
The Terminators continue to move up the hill and reach the top.
Tactical Squad1 is lead forward at the urging of Antonidus Aurelius.
"With the cleansing power of the Emporer's storm, we shall scour this filth from the planet!"
- The Land Raider has remained stationary so it's crew has the chance to use every weapon system. The tank targets two groups. The Flash Gitz get lucky as a melta beam disintegrates a tree instead of one of their members. The Tank Bustaz are not as fortunate as the heavy assault cannon rips three of their number to bloody rags and broken weapons.
- Tactical Squad3 continues what the tank started by unloading their boltguns at rapid fire into the thinning ranks of Tank Bustaz. Every one of them goes down under their withering and accurate fire.
- The lone sniper misses as he tries to kill Kaptain Krunktoof. Tactical Squad1 and the Terminators also shoot at the Flash Gitz and they have better luck as three of the Gitz die and another is wounded. Where is the Painboy? Unfortunately, he discovered a half-full bottle of Ol' Boomy's special beer and couldn't resist the temptation... "Whazzat? No kan halp... (HIC!) Me iz on... (Burp!) break right now... (hic!)"
- The close quarters battle between the Dreadnought and the Kommandoz continues. The orks manage to hit the machine with a couple of glancing blows that will reduce it's effectiveness next round, but three of their own are brutally crushed to death and tossed aside by the robotic power claw of their foe.
Mob2 moves forward to get in a better position to cover the retreat of Ol' Boomy that Warboss Chainsaw is hoping to perform.
- The Flash Gitz shoot at Tactical Squad1 and punish 2 marines brutally.
- The Lobbaz continue to fire at the Snipers, but the lone model remaining has picked a fine defensive location and is unharmed.
- The unnatural whine of the shokk attack gun kicks up even higher as the Big Mek hits the 'turbo vacuum' switch and scores of snotlings are sucked into the warp! He directs them to materialize right in front of Tactical Squad3 and the aim is perfect. Six space marines are blown away with huge holes ripped through both sides of their armor as wailing snotlings pepper their group moving several hundred miles per hour on impact.
- The dance of melee combat between the Kommandoz and the Dreadnought is ended as 2 more orks are ripped in half, but the nob cuts off coolant to the power plant and the war machine is turned into a bonfire!
Tactical Squad1 charges into combat with the few remaining Flash Gitz (and their drunken doctor who will likely not be much help).
The Terminators continue moving along the ridge line of the central hill.
- The Land Raider unloads all weapon systems this round. The Kommandoz worst fears are realized as the terrifying Flamestorm cannon roasts 4 orks and burns the backside of the nob quite severely. "Me bum! It's all crispy! Ow! Oww!! Owww!!!" This indignity is not one that the nob can recover from and the surviving remnants of his unit run faster than they ever have before in an utter rout.
- The Land Raider's assault cannon and melta attack Mob2, as do all of the weapons from the Termiantor squad and the last sniper. The bloodletting from this combined weight of fire is heavy. Eight of the ladz of Mob2 are put down and a scattered frag missile explosion manages to kill 2 of the Big Mek's gretchin retinue.
- Tactical Squad1 fires their weapons into the Flash Gitz before they slam into them. A total of 3 Flash Gitz are laid low, one of them with his throat crushed by a power fist. The gitz only manage to kill a single space marine in response. Kaptain Krunktoof is mortified by this poor showing... he only leads a single git and a very tipsy painboy. "Dis iz not so good, me thinkin'."
Mob2 drag Ol' Boomy away from the front lines in an attempt to keep him from the authorities in the fast-moving tank.
Mob1 jumps into the battle to support the struggling Flash Gitz in their battle versus the Chapter Master and his remaining space marines.
- The Kommandoz fire their rokkits and in an amazing display of marksmanship both warheads nail the lone Sniper right in the head. "Ooo! Lookit! A meat firework!"
- The Lobbaz shift targets to the Terminators and even their runtherd grunts in surprise when one terminator goes down and the mighty captain takes a wound.
- The Big Mek fires another load of frightened snotlings - this time into the Terminators armor! Three of the powerful warriors go down screaming, and the captain takes another wound as a rabid and insane snotling gnaws on his leg before he can stop it.
- The Flash Gitz struggle with Tactical Squad1. His last git is wounded, but they manage to bring down the last two marines of the squad, leaving the Chapter Master Antonidus Aurelius alone in a sea of greenskin fury.
- The orks of Mob1 are only too happy to surround the Chapter Master! Their assault turns out to be completely futile as four of their ladz are slammed to the ground and they can't even touch the experienced officer. "You can not scratch my armor - for it is made of pure faith! Fall upon my sword to gain a swift death, xeno-filth, for the Emperor's servants are merciful as we follow his example!"
The Terminators reach the other side of the hill at last and form up right next to the rumbling tank.
The Chapter Master continues to taunt the ork mob surrounding him and this enrages the greenskins mightily! He merely laughs to see their discomfiture.
- The Terminators and the Land Raider attack Mob2. Four more of the orkz die and another grot from the Gretchin unit is killed by a hot chunk of shrapnel.
- The Chapter Master drives into the demoralized Flash Gitz. He slays the hurt git and gives the Kaptain a wound. This is too much for them and they try to flee. Due to the press of Mob1, however, they get confused and instead run themselves onto Antonidus Aurelius' power sword. "A wise choice of death! It was quick and relatively painless - unlike what I'll be giving your disgusting peers soon!"
The fleeing Kommandoz move slowly over the rocks towards the comfort of their side of the table... and a tube of burn cream for the nob that's back in his tent.
"Keep dem eyes facin' front, youse! Ain't nuttin' ta see back here! Owiee!"
- The Lobbaz and the Big Mek both continue their bombardment of the Terminator squad and manage to stop two more of them.
- Mob1 now is able to get every available lad into the fight against the untouchable Chapter Master. The mighty warrior kills 2 more boyz, but even he can not protect from attacks coming simultaneously from every side. The enraged orks cause him to suffer three wounds.
The Land Raider surges towards the enemy line, skidding to a stop just in front of the grinning ladz of Mob2 and Warboss Chainsaw himself...
"Ware you tink, youse goin', ugies?"
- The flamestorm cannon unloads its fiery load into Mob2 and four ladz are blasted into cinders.
- The Chapter Master swings his mighty power sword and decapitates three orks, but his left leg is cut in half by the nob's power claw and he goes down! "Great lamentations! Avenge me, brothers!"
"Lemme go!" he mumbles, "Me good ta drive meself home..."
Mob1 runs to assist with the securing of the objective, but they can see they will be too far away to help in time...
Mega-Warboss Chainsaw unleashes a mighty "WAAAGH!" just for the heck of it.
- The rokkit-wielding Kommandoz shoot their rokkits at the tank, hoping to immobilize it, but both rokkits miss very badly.
- The Lobbaz unload their wares into the middle of the two remaining men of Tactical Squad3 and both fellows buy the whole farm.
- The Big Mek no longer has and Gretchin to use as "e'merg'ancy ammo", so he does his best at putting some snotlings inside the Land Raider. His aim is poor and he instead puts the snotlings inside two of the ladz of Mob2. Their bodies explode shockingly as the snotlings interpenetrate their hides.
The chances of pulling this off are low, but the space marines have no doubt that the Emperor will smile upon their efforts this day.
Their desperate plan is to drive right through the ork line and unload the Terminators with the Captain in range to assault the Gretchin and wrest control of the perp from them.
But will it work?
The ladz of Mob2 jump out of the way of the tank shock!
All except Mega-Warboss Chainsaw... He is cunning and has discerned the space marine's intent! He stands awaiting either Death or Glory...
He gets death! Well... He's out of the fight - that's certain...
His metal skull might have saved his heavily-modified-with-elective-surgery brain, but his chest cavity looks about as flat at a spaceport runway. His limbs twitch grotesquely after the tank leaves him behind in the dirt...
- The Terminators exit the tank as planned and slam into the Gretchin without shooting at them. They want the criminal alive to suffer for his crimes, after all. The runtherd manages to kill one of the Terminators, but it is a futile gesture as all of the greenskins are torn to shreds with chainfists buzzing like the scream of an angry deity! They take possession of the objective at the very last possible moment!
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