Copypasta from my blog:
In the last couple of weeks, I’ve been reading up on the mechanics of Pathfinder Roleplaying Game and the current playtest build of Dungeons and Dragons Next. First of all, I need more local friends with whom I could play these most awesome of games. Secondly, I’ve had this mythology building in my head for the last year, and I’d like to adapt it into Pathfinder-compatible materials even though the mythology will probably be considerably different from Pathfinder's official mythology.
Finally, though I’m skipping over any number of numbered points I’d make in relation to my recent game rule readings, I’ve had this scene involving the acid arrow spell playing in my head for the last week or more. I’m hoping writing down this little dramatized moment will help me clear it from my mind to start creating other, more exciting story bits.
Without further delay, here is “Acid Arrow.”
-Kenny
Edit: I need to get back to work on my Eve/Dust character logs. My Eve sub ran out, and I had a story for how I'd deal with that from the character's perspective, but I forgot to put it into actual writing. *oops* I haven't played Dust in a while, so there hasn't been anything to write, but I'd like to start writing more of that again sooner than later. It's really fun.
In the last couple of weeks, I’ve been reading up on the mechanics of Pathfinder Roleplaying Game and the current playtest build of Dungeons and Dragons Next. First of all, I need more local friends with whom I could play these most awesome of games. Secondly, I’ve had this mythology building in my head for the last year, and I’d like to adapt it into Pathfinder-compatible materials even though the mythology will probably be considerably different from Pathfinder's official mythology.
Finally, though I’m skipping over any number of numbered points I’d make in relation to my recent game rule readings, I’ve had this scene involving the acid arrow spell playing in my head for the last week or more. I’m hoping writing down this little dramatized moment will help me clear it from my mind to start creating other, more exciting story bits.
Without further delay, here is “Acid Arrow.”
-Kenny
A few braziers and held torches lit an otherwise dark catacomb. The room was spacious apart from its low ceiling, with a large open area in the middle of the chamber. Books, scrolls, and arcane contraptions rested on a simple table at the far end of the room, clearly not one of the catacomb’s original and ornate features.
“You’ve come to this place of the dead expecting what exactly if not death?” questioned the necromancer known simply as Blacktongue to the locals. Her voice was soft and calming, belying the malice implied in her words.
“In Morloth’s name, we will bring rest to those you’ve disturbed with your foul magics, witch!” answered Liana, a human cleric and servant of the benevolent god of death. Though her words were familiar, they carried the conviction and assurance that only a truly devoted and battle-tested cleric could convey.
“And take yer pretty head while we’re at it!” added Gunthar Stormhammer, an especially fiery-tempered dwarf. He readied his warhammer, bouncing it in his hand in an effort to intimidate the necromancer.
“Indeed,” Blacktongue coolly remarked. She took to smirking. “You adventurers are all so quaint. A skeleton is spotted near the town and suddenly the witch hunt begins. I can raise the dead; do you really think I cannot, will not add to their numbers?”
Gunthar had enough. He charged across the room at Blacktongue, shouting fiercely in his rage.
“Halt!” commanded the necromancer. Mere feet from her, the dwarf found himself stopped dead in his tracks, utterly unable to move.
Liana uttered a short prayer. “Morloth, give us your aid and demonstrate that you share power over death with no one.”
“A pity,” started Blacktongue. “The last group had five in all. You have only two. And you,” turning her focus to the cleric, “will not even make a pretty trophy for my collection.” Her effort to undermine Liana’s mental readiness lacking any form of subtlety. “I would not even need to summon my servants to deal with you pathetic lot, but it is so much more entertaining to watch the dead tear at the living.”
With this, the necromancer began moving her arms about in the air, muttering words in a language unknown to Liana and Gunthar. A shadow formed around her.
Though he did not realize it immediately, the dwarf was released from his mystical captivity when Blacktongue’s focused turned to working her dark art.
The sound of bones moving without flesh began to fill the hall. Gunthar saw skeletons moving from their resting places in the walls and straight for him, his eyes widening with horror before narrowing in fury.
“Gunthar, move!” Liana shouted. She thrust her holy symbol forward toward the dwarf and cast a ward of protection on him.
The dwarf swung his hammer in a wide arc, too soon to hit any of the skeletons, and leapt back toward Liana. “Where is that bloody elf ye hired?” he demanded of the cleric.
“Waiting for the right moment,” a disembodied voice responded, “to strike!” In an instant, an exploding ball of fire appeared in the middle of the gathering group of skeletons. When the light faded, a robed elf was all that remained in its place; the skeletons had been destroyed entirely.
“How about striking a little sooner next time, elf,” grunted Gunthar, unwilling to admit that he was impressed by and grateful for the sorcerer’s intervention. “And spare us the theatrics.”
“And need I remind you that we are here to give the dead their rest, not add to their agitation, Exanti?” chided Liana.
Exanti chuckled. “You’ve paid me to do a job, and I will do it,” retorted the elf. “Let me worry about the how, love.” Exanti was an unusually smug elf with an excessive love for the dramatic. His arrogance was not without some justification, however, as he was an exceptionally gifted sorcerer.
“Ooh. This is a pleasant surprise,” Blacktongue chimed in, the shadow that once obscured her gone again. “I’ve heard of you, Exanti. This could be much more fun than expected. And don’t worry, the fun has only begun.”
More of the undead shuffled. Half a dozen skeletons from their resting places were joined by the heavily armored corpse of a recently killed adventurer.
“Dwarf, tend to the armored one,” barked the sorcerer. “Cleric, give the others the rest you speak of.”
“I’ll be taking no orders from ye, elf!” Gunthar shot back. “But, seeing as he’s the mightiest foe in the room, I will not turn down the opportunity to send him back to his death.”
Liana simply nodded in agreement before raising her holy symbol high and beginning another prayer.
“I suppose that you mean to deal with me yourself, Exanti?” asked Blacktongue, expecting no answer. “How charming.”
“I suppose so,” Exanti responded. He angled his body such that his left shoulder faced the necromancer. His right arm reached over his shoulder and plucked at the air, as if pulling an arrow from a quiver. In like fashion, he took aim with an imagined bow.
“It seems you’re forgetting something, my dear elf,” chuckled Blacktongue, forgetting the stories she’d heard of Exanti in light of his silly act.
The elf closed his eyes momentarily and whispered: “Acid arrow.” Suddenly, a, ethereal bow and arrow of green flame appeared in his hands. He opened his eyes and loosed the mystical arrow. It shot fast and true, plunging itself in the necromancer’s chest.
“On the contrary,” he replied to Blacktongue. “It seems you are the forgetful one, failing to recognize such a basic spell simply because I cast it differently.” The sorcerer then dashed forward, summoning a mystical blade in hand, and pierced her through the heart.
Even the necromancer’s powers over death could not prevent her own demise. She slumped over; her life and last breath left her body. With her death, her will over her undead force expired. The skeletons and the adventurer’s corpse fell to the ground again.
“Ye’ve robbed me of my victory, elf!” complained Gunthar, still unwilling to admit gratitude for the fight being over.
“Let’s return these dead to their proper places and leave,” said Liana. “I will see to it that Blacktongue is never able to return.” Though reluctant, the others agreed to do their parts to honor the dead. They placed the skeletons back upon their resting places in the walls and wrapped the fallen adventurer’s corpse and placed him in an open resting place. The cleric performed her cleansing ritual and set fire to the necromancer’s body.
They collected any valuable belongings left by the necromancer, said a final prayer for the dead, and left the catacomb. The town would be glad to hear that Blacktongue was no more.
Edit: I need to get back to work on my Eve/Dust character logs. My Eve sub ran out, and I had a story for how I'd deal with that from the character's perspective, but I forgot to put it into actual writing. *oops* I haven't played Dust in a while, so there hasn't been anything to write, but I'd like to start writing more of that again sooner than later. It's really fun.
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