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Defending Turmish,Three Against Ironfang Keep, Part 3 of 3 Articles / Stories Date: May 03, 2009 - 07:33 AM |
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Massive and hideous, with a strangely ridged head, the Black Beast resembled a demon in body, but a rather unique one at that, I can say as someone who is rather an expert on them, first hand knowledge and all that. An animal’s reverse jointed legs, a strange pointed tail and something on it’s back that resembled wings at first glance, but then could be seen to be bone spikes. The creature could unleash a devastating roar, sonic waves blasting over us, bursting ear drums and impacting like a thousand kobolds pummeling every inch of our bodies. Try as I might, my blade would not pierce his defenses. He wore a strange garment, one part armor, one part clothing, shimmering and alien. It seemed to project force about his entire frame, enough force that for fifteen minutes, we battered against him, Heaven and Earth beginning to tarnish and dull under the punishment. Even Daisy, ever enduring, sounded winded as she rained blows on the beast. Fey’s well timed blows proved no more effective either. Our thoughts turned from destroying the Shadow Adepts’s pet towards how we might escape it, for no matter how fast we were, it always kept up, possessing the speed of the fastest puma, the reflexes of a quickling and the strength of a titan. Only occasionally, could anything find purchase on the beast, a nick or a scratch from a dead on attack, where a spark of divine or negative energy found a chance to injure the creature. Almost as soon as we injured it, the wounds would heal over, leaving us all the more dispirited. I began to adopt Fey’s tactics, realizing that a fair percentage of my blows were not just being blocked by his armor, but being dodged. If I could catch him by surprise a few more times, maybe I could lay a few more scratches into him, a death by a thousand cuts. I removed one of my magic rings and replaced it with an invisibility ring. I then found opportunities to slip out of his view, trigger the magics and then use that cover to sneak around his backside, hoping to land a few good blows. Unfortunately, while I did land a good blow, my ring that I had removed had essential protections on it that were defending me from the worst of his attacks. Soon as I struck a telling blow on him, the Black Beast spun and struck me, hitting me with six or seven blows in a row. I realized as a floated free over him and Daisy, weightless, that something was odd. I was not merely thrown back up in the air from the hit… I was dead. This momentary demise was the first of a horrid series of resurrections, almost a mockery of the divine power to restore life, turning it into an exercise in torture. A sort of tag team resurrection race where I would attempt to revive Daisy, before the Beast could kill me, then Daisy or Fey would seek to revive me, then the Beast would kill them and I would once again race to revive one of them. Memnethian Gems, a standby I have long used, were by this point completely exhausted from fighting Shadow Adepts and the first six to ten times the Beast killed me. Desperately we continued the fight, trying to come up with strategems to pull the beast away from us, then flee. But all to no avail. The Beast was too strong. The rub was that Fey Olaven would not give up. Daisy and I were ready to call it a day, figuring that the Shadow Adepts would recage the Beast, once it disrupted enough of their activities. Fey believed it would run wild though, becoming a threat to the realms. Initially I disagreed. Even if I had thought it that dire a threat, it was nothing to meet my final death over. If I was truly dead, it is not like I could help fight it again, so fighting to the last measure there served no purpose. Regardless, Fey would not listen to reason, as I saw it. Soon it didn’t matter. We all had given the last measure. I lay dead at the things hand, one final time, as I attempted to run the length of the corridor to revive Daisy one last time. Daisy and Fey both lay dead at the creatures’ feet. Our armor had been rent open so badly that without time to repair and reequip it, we were defenseless from the Beast. Suddenly a madman came running though our battleground. Dressed in defensive robes that did not hinder his movement, the man known as Zephyr Wingfoot caught the attention of the Beast. Screaming either in terror or to get the beast’s attention, he ran by it and through me… through what I guess was my watching spirit. Mind you I was confused I could see this, wondering if I was simply dreaming, or dead and being tortured by some afterlife entity ready to visit its torments upon me. Like a dog after a thrown stick, the Black Beast was off after Zephyr. Zephyr deserves the name, for he matched the Black Beast’s speed, not letting it catch him. He ran down the corridor past our corpses, then a few moments later came running by again, a Resurrection Wand in hand. He triggered it into Fey’s corpse as he ran by her, the Beast following closely. Fey, rather than rejoin the fight, wisely hesistated, as Zephyr and the Black Beast again disappeared down the hall leading back to the entrance of the Keep. Given a moment to recover, Fey revived both of us. Daisy revealed that she had managed to send a summons for Zephyr in the moments before the Black Beast had finally laid us low. Zephyr had come to save us. He lured the Black Beast outside the keep, away from us, then managed to hide expertly in a nearby crevasse. The Beast was pacing back and forth, looking for him as he hid away, sending mystic messages so that we could know where the Beast was. Daisy and I discussed teleporting back to Karunth, or going to Ormath, for clearly we were overmatched. As we discussed this Zephyr returned to us, safely away from the Beast, however Fey once again refused to let us take the easy path. Zephyr revealed that the Beast seemed to be wandering, out away from the keep, pleased to be freed from its captivity. Fey begged us to consider what would happen if the Black Beast came across people now that it was free. What could happen if it met a caravan of traders, or Ormath’s Mining Camp… or if it hunted it’s way east towards Alaghon? The casualties would be immense. Most likely, the first casualty would be every living soul in the Mercenary Camp. Followed shortly thereafter by the entire military forces of the Shining Plains, Karunth and Alaghon. This could not be allowed. Once more into the fray, Fey and Daisy rushed outside to renew their assault, hopeless as it seemed. They took my hesistation as refusal. Instead I asked Zephyr to do something to help me pierce the Beast’s defenses. I asked if he had any allies that could hit the Beast or means of placing a temporary enchantment on Heaven and Earth. It’s power was nearly great enough to effect the Black Beast, but not quite. Zephyr was able to oblige. Given a chance of victory, I seized it. Charging out of Ironfang Keep, Heaven and Earth in one hand, my rubicite reinforced large shield in the other, I hurled myself at the Beast, as it towered over Daisy and Fey. I struck a cleaving blow in mid leap. My blade met the Beast’s defenses and they failed, parting like water before the bow of a ship. The Black Beast was dealt a mortal blow and finally dispatched. As quiet returned to the battleground we stood in, at the foot of Ironfang Keep, the sound of our collective fatigue, exhausted gasps and groans escaped us all. We settled back onto our backsides where we had stood around the beast, looking upon its bizarre form. I simply closed my eyes there, leaning on my sword and falling off into a fitful sleep. When I awoke, I realized something else was strange. I had used so many Tenser’s Transformation potions during my battle, that the altered form I had now, was not restored by resting. I remained as tall as one of the big folk, in the battle form that the Tenser’s potion altered me to. I was able to maintain my one handed grip on my battle blade and use a shield. Unusual, perhaps a side effect of Ironfang Keep and it’s various magical auras. Turning to my companions, I mentioned this and they agreed it was strange, but were not as impressed as I. What they were impressed by was the corpse of the Black Beast. They had carefully removed the robes that the creature wore as a second skin and were discussing the fact that it was undamaged and probably could be tailored to fit a human being, to offer similar defenses to the creatures own protections. We also noticed that over the creatures’ back, actually grown into the creature’s hide, was a sword. It looked like it was wearing it in a back sheath, only the creatures hide had shapeshifted or grown around the sword sheath. Daisy pulled this sword sheath free from its place attached to the Beast’s back, bits of chitinous hide breaking free from where they had held it in place. Offering the blade to me, handle first, the blade slid out of the sheath, revealing it’s strange golden length made of an ivory substance, not metal. I attempted to grab it as it slid free of its own accord, but it was like a ghost blade. My hand passed through it like the wind and it fell to the ground, where none of us could pick it up. Viewing it closely, Daisy recognized certain marks recorded in the texts of the Underfolk and in crafting journals she had perused over the ages. It was a legendary blade named Goldfang, crafted from the fang of an ancient great wyrm gold dragon, into a bastard sword of immense power. Apparently Goldfang also has a sort of intelligence, allowing it to choose its users to match its goals and desires. It desired none of us as it’s wielder, so chose to remain where it fell. Perhaps it is there still, outside the Keep. More likely, the Shadow Adepts have reclaimed it, restored it to their vaults. My best guess is that the Black Beast is the guardian of that weapon, keeping it out of the hands of the enemies of the Shadow Adepts. Perhaps he once was its rightful owner, fallen to the sway of their magic, I cannot say. I can only report what I saw there, that day in the Alaeorum, high above the expanse of the Orasaun Mountains. Zephyr Wingfoot, Daisy Rocbraquor, Fey Olaven and I parted ways at this point, to our separate homes and agendas, but we shared this experience and the knowledge of what lurks in Ironfang’s Halls. That danger may be lessened for our actions and since we released the Black Beast, it was only fitting we deal with it, but at any moment, such a thing could become a threat to the citzens of Turmish. Were that to happen, where would the people be without adventurers, without The Roach Clan, The Armstrongs or such as Fey, Daisy, Zephyr and I? Where would we be, if you allow what happened to the commoner, Sally Swordswinger, to happen to us? It was she who rose above her station and became a defender of the people, yet was persecuted, tortured, framed and exiled for her opposition to the Zhentarim. Think about it. Can you rise to meet the challenges that face our land, in her absence? Will I always be here with my friends to save you? Some belittle adventurers and feel we are lawless opportunists, only good for destabilizing the economy with the gold we bring back from lost lands. I say we are your only hope. |
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This article comes from The Lands of Turmish http://www.iqto.com/turmish/html/ The URL for this story is: http://www.iqto.com/turmish/html/modules.php?op=modload&name=News&file=article&sid=275 |