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Gorfang activated his Boots of Speed to give him Haste. Once more, he aimed the Invigilator of Vane the Mace at Setram, draining yet more strength from the dragon.
Braced atop Setram's armoured back, Eloy hacked repeatedly with the scimitar he'd gained from Barkflay's insides, but to no avail - the monster's hide was simply too thick. He paused to consider his next move - and at that moment the dragon reacted. His first move was to cast a spell. A thick bank of black fog enveloped the whole area around Gorfang, blotting out even his enhanced vision through his Robe of Eyes. That done, the dragon then simply rolled over onto his back.
The suddenness of this took Eloy completely by surprise. He managed to let go of the rope he'd looped aroind the dragon's neck, but wasn't quick enough to jump clear before several tons of dragon crashed down on him, pinning him to the ground. Setram now turned towards where Gorfang had been, planning on filling the area of Dark Fog he'd cast with fire, but with the aid of the Boots of Speed the raging orc had already charged out of the spell effect. Gorfang fired the Invigilator again, then angled away sharply to stay out of range.
Setram was now in serious trouble. The repeated strikes from the Invigilator had weakened his mighty muscles to the point that he could neither fly nor execute the wing-assisted leap needed to bring him within breath-reach of Gorfang. Eloy wasn't much better off; trapped beneath tons of dragon, slowly crushing the life out of him and forgotten by his allies. He struggled futilely to no avail. It occurred to him that, having survived Setram's attack, he was quite likely to be killed by Gorfang's success with the Invigilator if the latter were to weaken Setram to the point where the dragon couldn't move away.
Still on his back, Setram twisted his neck so that his head was the right way up, and looked out in Gorfang's direction. The dragon looked worried and his words bore this out. "Can we negotiate?" he rumbled unwillingly. Gorfang siezed the opportunity created by this to zap the dragon for the last time with the Invigilator. The last of Setram's strength ebbed from his muscles and he collapsed, helpless. Gorfang began to walk with ominous slowness towards the crippled dragon, as Lynien broke cover and approached it from behind.
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To Eloy's relief, he discovered that the shifting of Setram's weight as his muscles failed had relieved the pressure on him slightly, and with a desperate heave he was able to drag himself out from underneath the monster, just behind the left foreleg. His hand flashed to his belt and he let drive with his wand of Ice Storm at the back of Setram's head. The blast of jagged ice chunks battered the back of Setram's head, and the dragon roared in pain. Gorfang, still some distance away, saw it, and lifted the Gorbow again. He could see Lynien hadn't done this. "There's someone else here!" he shouted in warning, and let drive with a flight of arrows. Eloy groaned; not again! Four arrows slammed into Eloy's chest, making him stagger from the simple impact and grit his teeth at the pain. A warm numbness stole along his limbs, and his movements became uncoordinated. To add insult to serious injury - he'd been poisoned as well! All strength left him and he toppled over backwards, still conscious but like Setram completely helpless.
Lynien had reacted to Gorfang's warning, and sent a volley of her own at the source of the Ice Storm, but her arrows passed over the recumbent Eloy, who was shielded from further harm by the dragon's legs. Setram was unable to move but could still speak: "It's your own comrade, you fools!" he bellowed, "that human, the weaselly one with the white hair who helped you rob me! Can't you see him?" Lynien shook her head. Of course.... Eloy. He'd gone Null, hadn't he? She winced. If all those arrows had hit him, he was likely to be in a bad way... She unpouched a bottle of Boom Boom Boom ready.
Setram's eyes rolled wildly now, fear plain on his face and in his voice. "You have powerful magic, even without the sorceress," he said. "I yield! Surely we can negotiate some agreement, there must be something I can do for you?" Lynien was quickest. "Have you any treasure to ransom yourself with?" she asked. For a moment anger overcame Setram's fear and he snorted. "Treasure? Of course not, and you know why!" Gorfang sneered. "You haven't anything we need. You're no use to us. We," he added extra scorn to his voice, "have ridden proper dragons." Setram's eyes went red with fury, and flame dribbled from his slack jaws to spread like fluid onto the grass of Gorfang's manor grounds. "Kill me," he raged, "or bargain for my freedom - but taunt me no more!" Gorfang lifted the khopesh slowly. "Die then, and have an end to this," he said, and struck once.
With Eloy restored to his feet by Lynien's potion, the three examined the cooling corpse of the Dragon of Amberlan. A sparkle caught Lynien's eye, and she clambered up onto his chest. There, driven between the scales, was a large gem, a faint glow fading at its' heart. Deftly she prised it out, and probed its' magic. "A Gem of Fortification," she announced. Gorfang lifted a hand, and she tossed it to him. Catching it, he drove it into his own chest in a shower of blood. The gem responded by lighting up, pulsing gently in tune with the orc's black heart. Gorfang unbuckled straps and let his armour fall; he needed it no longer. His own speed was enough. Eloy rather fancied Setram's eyes as a trophy, but Gorfang stopped him; he intended to leave Setram's corpse to decay within sight of his manor as a warning to others foolhardy enough to attack Southwold. Eloy didn't argue; he was distracted.
With the death of Setram, his bargain with the nameless demon was completed, and - apart from the enormous relief of his doom averted - he could feel the scales of fate levelling out. Somewhere, at an unimaginable distance, he could also feel a splash of unimaginable fury, as the balked demon raged at being denied his soul. Lynien, too, felt the significance of the event, as a restoration of a balance and a contract of such moment completed, things Nebekheshut appreciated. There was a moment's pause - and then Eloy laughed. "Well, that's over," he said, "who fancies a drink and dinner? On me?"
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As they walked away, the Man in the Shadows looked across at Gorfang. "I'd have been in trouble there without you," he admitted, "it would have taken me hours to kill it." Gorfang grinned. "I saved your life again," he commented.
The three retired to Porisal's, on Lack Street, easily Lossal's best eatery, although Lynien stopped off to clean up and change into her best dress - the sheer and sexy one with the hidden pockets for loot and scabbards for weapons.
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Relaxing over a splendid meal and (in Gorfang's case) most of the wine list, the three reminisced over recent events. Even the normally sober Eloy cradled a large glass of Typril's brandy. The eating house was alive with rumours, and Lynine's keen ears kept picking up conversations about the reported sightings of what might have been dragonfire north of the city. Understandably, given what had happened to Vorsand, there was considerable concern. Finally she had had enough. Turning to the nearest table, she said, "Yes; it was a dragon, and no, it's no further danger. We killed it."
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After about an hour, mellowed by several glasses of the best wine the house could produce, her thoughts turned to sweeter rewards. Ordering a carryout of two more bottles, she took her leave and headed over to Cassandra's to pick up Serafina. A hefty stack of gold coins reserved the best suite - and bath - at the Bull and Elephant for as long as they wanted to stay.
Back at Porisal's, Eloy focussed slightly blearily on the small string quartet playing genteel music for the diners. He went over to them, and some coins changed hands; then the group struck up with 'Wealthy Well'. Despite the fact that it was anything but the type of music normally played in such a high-brow establishment, the diners began to smile and feet began to tap - they all knew it. Eloy stepped to the front of the quartet and began to sing.
His voice was by no means of bardic quality, but perfectly adequate - after all, Wealthy Well had been designed to be easy to sing, and it had been written by Eloy's own god. He felt a strong resonance as he sang, almost as if he were in harmony with Sabath. With his death mark repealed and his power to escape death restored, this was not untrue. Diners began to clap, quietly and genteely.
Around the second verse, though, things went quiet, and Eloy became aware of Gorfang standing in his seat. The Gorbow was drawn, and one of the massive arrows levelled dead at himself. Despite his heroic intake of alcohol, the head was rock steady. Eloy stopped singing.
"That song offends me," grated Gorfang, "either he leaves or I shoot him." The maitre'd glanced worriedly at Eloy, but the latter seemed quite cheerful. "No problem," he said laughing. "I had other things to do anyway." Nodding his thanks to the petrified musicians, he stepped down from their dias and left. Gorfang subsided into his chair with a grunt, and resumed his attempt to empty Porisal's wine cellar.
He got quite close.
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Outside, Eloy walked jauntily down Lack street, whistling Wealthy Well. He'd had the last laugh; the very considerable bill for the night's entertainment hadn't been paid yet....
With Gorfang occupied, Eloy slipped back to Southwold. He'd forgo the eyes; but he had other uses for Setram's corpse. Carefully, he pried loose a dozen or so of the very back teeth from the monster's jaws. Setram had so many, these wouldn't be missed. His elite priests would wear these; some homily about always haviing a way out of any bargain would be good to go with them...
Dawn was breaking as he re-entered the city of Lossal, and headed across the cobbled market-place to wake his witch-wife with the news that he was still alive.
 This brings us to the end of the Alair Returns campaign. I hope everyone who's played in it, and any lurkers who may happen to be out there, has enjoyed it as much as I have, because I've had a great time. Thank you all for coming. Especially if you came twice or three times. We will certainly be returning to Alair for another 3e campaign at some point, and the world-shaking events of this one will colour and enhance the world that next generation of characters find themselves in. The next campaign will be a Traveller adventure, called Prison Pit, for which the beginnings of some information can be found here. |
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