TEMPLE OF ELEMENTAL EVIL
SESSION 013 - Escape from the Moathouse
SESSION 013 - Escape from the Moathouse
WATERDAY, 05 NEEDFEST (MID WINTER) 579CY
The last of Lareth’s personal guard crumpled to his knees death mere moments away. The man looked up at the half-orc that stood before him, his face contorted in pain. “YOU w-h-y ….l” he coughed, his lips flecked with frothy blood, as he fell forward into a pool of his own freshly spilled blood.
The heavy blade of the half-orc’s axe had moments earlier cleaved through the guard’s midriff, shattering his ribs and piercing his heart.
Looking down and the lifeless corpse brought a smile to Erehwon’s lips, his orcish features exposed in the moment. Overcome with a momentary sense of deja vu, the half-orc shook his head to clear his thoughts. The sense of deja vu soon past as the memory faded into his subconscious.
Siam stepped into the chamber looking at her estranged rescuers and caught side of the body of Lareth lying at the feet of the ranger, Marcus. She had witness the ranger; first hand strike the priest down with a mighty blow of his great axe. The single blow had felled the priest by severing his head from his shoulders. The young rogue peered over at the severed head that had fallen to the ground; lifeless eyes stared back at her. Something did not feel right! Her investigated nature raised questions about the scene before her and what had transpired moments before.
“Something was wrong, this had been too easy,” thought Siam. She had witness the priest’s prowess in combat and that of his priestly powers.
“He was Lolth’s favoured, Lolth’s chosen, yet he now lay dead, why?” she thought.
Marcus stood, bloodied axe in hand. His armour covered in sticky warm blood and gore. The body of the priest lay on the floor before him.
He was stunned at what had taken place as he thought back to what had taken place. The unholy energy cast by the priest, Lareth had ripped through his body, causing him immense pain. The thought of it caused his stomach to cramp and his muscles to tense; he could still taste the acidic-sour taste of bile in his mouth.
He recalled how the druid had been the first to fall in the battle. Marcus knew instinctively that he had to kill the priest, or they would all die or worse would come to them at the hand of the priest.
Before the ranger knew what he was doing he was charging in the room, then the Lareth was in front of him. Without thinking his axe rained down in arc fuelled by pure rage and pain. He felt his axe sever the priest’s head from his shoulders in a single clean blow. A crimson fountain of blood exploded from the priest severed neck, as the head toppled to the ground a short distance away.
Kneeling Siam examined the fallen body of the priest, intrigued on how the man had died by the hand of the ranger. It was only after she managed to move the priest body did she notice the small dart caught in one of the many folds of his cloak. Lifting the dead man’s shoulder the young rogue spotted a puncture wound in the base of what was left of the priest’s neck.
Black Wolf gathered what he needed. The alarm had been triggered, which meant he had little time left.
“Minge … fetch the woman” ordered Black Wolf as he adjusted his armour and holstered his mace in his belt, “Bring her to the caverns.”
“As you bid Master Wolf,” said Minge the Halfling. “… and Master your guests have arrived. Should I bring them to the caverns too?” asked the Halfling.
“Yes and make it with haste,” replied Black Wolf, “Oh and Minge when I am done, burn this place to the ground. My work here is done.” said Black Wolf as an afterthought as he strode from the room.
The half-orc felt a sting on the back of his neck, as he turned to follow the young woman into the room. With each step his legs felt heavier. He tried to call out for help but found that he couldn’t. Taking another laboured step forward the half orc felt his joints stiffen as fell forward to crash into the floor.
“OH crap!” was the last thought he had before everything went black.