|
|
{Regain 5 hp from the rest.}
Now Darian looked around and considered her options. The ship wasn't due back for several days. If she wanted, she could probably hole up somewhere, maybe with the giant, until it arrived. She was sure that (What was his name again? Garr. That was it.) Garr would understand. Or she could try exploring more of the surface. It surely couldn't be worse than that stinking hole. Or she could go back down... into the dark... She suppressed a shudder. That damn skeleton was probably back where she first saw it, waiting to hack anyone foolish enough to come near into pieces. Skeletons were funny that way. They never got tired, or bored, and could just stand there for years until triggered by something.
Once again, it hit her how alone she truly was. The others, they seemed so confident most of the time. Calidor would probably fight to the bitter end, the fool. Andarra always seemed so calm, so stable. She had seen a lot of emotion from the dark-haired priestess, but fear was never one of them. Lenear would just chuckle in that way he did. No matter how bad the situation, he always seemed to be in control. Rand would make a show of fright, but then he'd pull some stunt she'd never thought of and beat the thing without even touching it. He was annoying like that... danger always seemed to bring out the best in him.
Darian realized that it was easy to be confident, even fearless when you had strong allies to back you up. She'd once asked Andarra why she never seemed scared, Andy replied, "I am scared. All the time. Any sane person would be, when things are life or death. Then I remind myself that people depend on me, that they need someone to ease their hurt. That even though I'm no master warrior, I have a part to play. Then my fear seems selfish, and petty. It's still there, but it doesn't seem so overwhelming anymore. That's what courage is Darian... acknowledging your fear without letting it rule you. You need to be strong, even when you just want to curl up and cry. Otherwise, the fear dominates you."
The word "dominate" resonated in her mind. She truly hated that word. Her father had done it, Bane had done it, and even that damn skeleton. Darian felt a surge of anger. She wanted to fight the skeleton right now, but she knew her body was too weak.
Suddenly, curiosity overwhelmed her. She had a mysterious potion. What was it for? She carefully uncorked it and gave it a sniff. She looked at the colour. Had she seen anything like this before? Darian had extensive experience with various poisons, so she tried to rule those out. She also tried to see if the potion had been partially consumed - perhaps by that lime-covered person. If he had sipped from it, perhaps that was the last thing he did! She wondered if it would turn her to stone. She giggled with excitement. It was all very thrilling; the sheer danger of it. Darian was no stranger to risk.
{She needs to know these details before she drinks it! If everything seems cool, then she'll drink it.}
It took a bit of effort to remove the stopper. A strong herbal smell wafted up. Looking into the bottle, she could see a deep crimson substance with tiny gold-coloured flecks in it. Taking another sniff, it reminded her of a healing potion... but this smell was much stronger and more pungent than any healing potion she had used before. Experimentally, she dipped a finger into it. The stuff was indeed dark red, and opaque. She remembered how healing potions were transparent. It reminded her of blood. She remembered that according to Andarra, blood was a major ingredient in a potion of healing, but that the blood had to be "Fresh, and given freely. Otherwise, you'd be seeing me going around battlefields with a bottle and a sponge."
Darian decided not to drink the potion. It was too weird. She re-corked it.
She was anxious to save Alsander, but she knew her body was too weak. Darian decided to rest all day. She went for walks around the tower, for fresh air. She went to sleep that night, in the same position, where the Continual Darkness was.
{I'm trying to heal her up a bit. Otherwise, she's just going to die.}
Darian sighed. If she had carried with her the proper reagents for an Identify spell, she'd know for sure whether the potion was safe. Unfortunately, the Identify spell was time consuming, physically draining, and its reagents were expensive. She usually didn't carry them around with her... Identify was a very useful spell, but not during adventures.
Casting her globe of darkness, she once again settled down to sleep. This time, it was deep and dreamless. When she awoke, she listened carefully before lowering the globe. It was getting about midday. She was beginning to worry. Whoever lived in the crypt had to have known someone had snuck in by now, and probably placed new guards where she had encountered the old ones. Great, just great. Once again, she pondered her options. She wasn't sure she could handle another set of fights like the last one, in her weakened state. She could try stealth, and avoid most of the residents' attention. Or she could simply give up and remain in hiding until the ship returned. One thing was certain. She'd spent a lot of time resting and was really pushing her luck on not being discovered if she remained here.
{Regain another 5 hit points from the rest.}
{She's only at 14 HP but I'm not going to give up. At least she has full spells now. By the way, I didn't need to cast the Continual Darkness again, but it doesn't matter.}
Darian was sick of waiting. She began walking back down the passage which led to the gates to the Iron Crypt.
{If those gates are fixed, I'm going to be very surprised. If they are still in the condition she left them, she will continue on.}
Darian carefully headed back into the crypt. Moving among the shadows, she followed the tunnel until the gate was in view. The gate was missing one of its doors, which was good. But unfortunately, it seemed the enemy had placed an orc as a sentry!
The orc shuffled its feet, and though it was hard to read its facial expression, it looked bored. It showed no sign of having spotted Darian yet.
Darian sent a magic missile toward the orc. She wasn't taking any chances - not in this condition.
The orc never knew what hit it. It was only able to grunt in surprise as the greenish energy bolts slammed into it. It crumpled to the ground, unmoving.
A cursory search revealed nothing of value from this fellow. Creeping past the corpse, Darian reached the wall where she knew there was a door hidden by illusion. Carefully putting her ear to the door, she heard what sounded like a creature growling!
Darian casted Mirror Images on herself. "I hope this one's not undead," she thought. She then quickly opened the door, and charged in, "Yaaaaaa!!". She attempted to surprise whatever it was.
Darian threw open the door and charged in. She immediately regretted it. Two more orcs were rising from the beds in the room, looking tired and angry. They were unarmored, but their weapons were nearby. Damn. The "growling" must have been these two snoring! It occured to her that it was daylight outside, and orcs were basically nocturnal. If she had been more quiet, she might have snuck past them.
Darian attacked the closest orc with her sword.
Darian slashed her sword in a deadly arc, but it hit nothing but cloth and stale hay as the orc rolled out of the way. Muttering under her breath, she quickly followed up. The orc, unarmored, was relatively easy to hit, and grunted in pain as she connected with a glancing blow.
Turning, she noticed the other one had scooped up its shield as well as its axe.
The orcs were visibly confused. At first, it appeared that they were being invaded! However, orcs are considerably more intelligent than they are often given credit for. The way all the images were identical... the way they all moved exactly alike...
The orc with the axe swung at Darian... and "Darian" vanished as the weapon sailed harmlessly through the air.
The other orc likewise attacked, but missed connecting with anything, image or no.
Darian knew she had to finish the battle quickly. Eventually, one of the orcs could get lucky, which would not bode well for her. The orc which was already wounded howled in both surprise and pain as the real Darian cut into him. A slash and a thrust brought him down.
Moving quickly, she attacked the other, moving past its shield and cutting deep into its shoulder. Once again, the orc struck out, only to hit another of the constantly shifting images. Darian struck it once more with a quick stab. It drew little blood, but any hit was a good one.
Taking advantage of her opponent's confusion, it didn't take her long to dispatch the beast.
Darian smiled. It was one of those half-smiles; almost a smirk. She was good.
She went through the north door. She turned east at the T junction, and carefully followed the passage to where the ogre had been. She listened carefully, trying to keep out of view.
Darian heard nothing. Tentatively, she crept into the ogre's room.
It was the smell which got her first... she nearly gagged. The ogre was still there... slumped against the wall. While ogres tend to smell bad when they are alive, when they are dead and have been sitting in a damp cave for over a day, the stench becomes overpowering. Obviously, the orcs and whatever else dwelled here hadn't bothered to move the corpse for being too big and heavy. Rotting ogre flesh was nothing to an orc, but to a half-elf it could cause serious nausea, which was what Darian felt at the moment.
Darian quickly backtracked to the T-junction. She was curious about the path leading west. She'd never been that way, so she checked for traps.
The passageway wound along, and eventually Darian came to a T-junction; on the wall facing her was a wall-carving which was rather indistinct. In addition to backtracking, she could go north or south.
Darian gave the wall-carving a cursory examination. She looked for traps, or a possible secret door.
She began to wonder if the southern corridor would lead her back to the orc's room. She decided to give it a try. As she moved, she made sure to check for traps. If she came to another T-junction, she would go east, hopefully completing the route.
The carved and scratched marks on the smooth wall depicted a horrible scene: a man in black robes stood over the body of an elf, and his outstretched hands seemed to be conjuring something from the head and heart of the body. At first, this looked vague, almost a smoky cloud; but as the image seemed to draw her attention she began to see the outline of a huge spider with wings taking shape in the cloud. Fully formed, the spider struck fear into her heart; somehow, she knew this was a dreadful enemy! She insinctively knew that the robed man was Mordraneth. Was this what he was capable of? She was very glad she wouldn't have to face him as she turned south.
Sure enough, she reached another T-junction, where she could continue south or east. Heading east, she found herself back in the orcs' room.
Darian went back to the junction and headed south. This was new terrain, so she was cautious. Again, she checked for traps as she moved.
Darian headed south along the passageway, which then turned west and opened into a chamber lit with flaming braziers. Standing in the doorway, she could just make out steps that led upwards at the far end of this chamber, and a large stone statue standing before them. The statue, sculpted of stone, was nearly ten feet tall, and had the head of a horned bull atop a man's body. It was not moving, and as Darian crept closer, it did not react in any way. Still, Darian's instincts told her this was no ordinary statue.
Darian casted Detect Magic. She knew she was dealing with an illusionist. She needed to be certain what was real, and what could be a trap.
Darian muttered the words of the spell. The statue glowed brightly... it was definitely magical, and some very strong magic at that. It was hard to determine what school of magic it was... usually a sign of more than one type. It did not appear to be illusionary.
As the spell was cast, the statue raised its right hand, and spoke in a flat, emotionless monotone.
"Give me a gem."
Darian thought to herself, "Sure, why not". She was curious to know what the statue would do with it. Besides, she could always kill it and take the gem back. Darian, with her typical generosity, pulled out a small diamond, worth about 23 gp. She balanced the gem on the end of her sword, and held it out in front of her. No use getting too close to this thing!
As Darian attempted a feat which would make a master jongleur proud, she considered that the statue was about the right size to be a golem. She remembered how golems were immune to most magic, (as countless numbers of futile magic missiles had attested to in the past) and most importantly, how much it hurt when they hit you. No problem.
All this as the diamond fell off the tip of the sword and landed with a small clatter on the floor. The statue did not stir.
Oh crud.
Darian casted Unseen Servant. Best not to get too close. She had the invisible force pick up the gem and deposit it in the statue's hand.
As the diamond floated into the statue's hand, Darian bit her lower lip in anticipation of what would happen. She tensed as the gem settled on the statue's palm.
Nothing happened. The statue did not react in any way. The gem was clearly visible resting in the statue's slightly cupped hand. The statue stood resolute in front of the stairs.
Darian tried to slip quietly by the statue. As she did so, she was prepared in case it attacked her. She figured the gem must keep it from attacking or something. She would have to snatch it back later. For now, she was curious what awaited her up the steps.
As Darian moved closer, she saw the statue's hand close on the diamond. A grating and cracking noise followed. Somehow, this... thing had crushed a diamond to powder! She shuddered at the thought. If it was strong enough to crush something which was by all rights virtually invulnerable... Its head turned, and it 'looked' directly at Darian. It brought its arm down, and raised it quickly. It looked like it was throwing her diamond's remains at her!
Darian decided to let the dust hit her. She tried to be ready with Dispel Magic just in case.
Darian was familiar with sprinkling diamond dust all over her body. It was the component for a popular spell called Stoneskin. In recent months, though, Darian had forgotten how to cast this powerful spell (as well as others). It was probably just as well; it quickly consumed her favourite commodity.
The dust settled on Darian, and vanished, leaving a tingling feeling. Strange, but not unpleasant. She felt invigorated. Examining herself, she discovered to her delight that all her wounds were gone! Not quite what she expected, but anything was a help.
The statue moved. Drawing her sword warily, she waited for it to attack her. Instead, it simply stepped out of the way of the stairs, and gestured up them with a stony arm. Cautiously, she ascended.
She reached an east-west passageway. It was dark enough that her light-sensitive elvensight was of little help. She could see that the western passage soon turned south.
Darian enjoyed the tingling sensation on her skin. As a dancer, she had used various metallic powders on herself, to add that subtle, sexy glimmer. In the lantern-light of the Prancing Pegasus, it was barely visible from a distance. But when she was close to a man, he would see it.
There was nothing she did while dancing that was outright unacceptable - she didn't strip off her clothes. But the swaying of her hips, and the beckoning of her hands spoke volumes. In some strange way, it was much more seductive that way.
Darian truly loved dancing. As she danced, she always wore her trademark wide, naughty-girl smirk.
She was not smiling now. She hated endlessly meandering tunnels. She also hated loneliness. How could it be that a girl who stove so hard for social intercourse was alone, deep underground in a deserted island?
At least she was healed. She was thankful Andarra didn't require diamonds to heal her. That could get costly.
She squinted, trying to see down the dark passage. Time for the torch again. She was glad she'd casted Continual Light on it, although she couldn't remember when. Definitely a long time ago.
As she walked, Darian realized how important it was for her to have people around. When she travelled with her companions, it was something they did together. Even though it often disolved into bickering, at least an argument was a kind of social interaction.
Some of her friends were decidedly social. Andarra almost never travelled alone, and while she'd never known Rand to mind being alone, he thrived when people were around. She wasn't sure how long someone like Elpi would survive without someone to bail him out of trouble.
Others were different. Rikus was definitely a loner at heart. Sure, he could get along with people (she knew she was an exception), but he preferred to be self-reliant, and had little patience for concensus-making. He'd probably be loving it down here. He just wasn't the sort who became dependent on a group.
Just a little way past the southern twist in the passageway, she could see two doors next to each other, one on each side of the hall, to the east and west. She could also continue south.
Darian listened carefully at each of the doors.
Darian listened at each door. Neither one produced any noise. Examining the east door, she saw a large lock. Both the lock and hinges were decidedly rusty. Pulling out her lockpicks, she went to work on the lock.
Her first attempt proved fruitless. It wasn't that the lock was particularly complex. Rather, the tumblers were so rusted that if she exerted enough force using the standard picks for such a lock, the picks would break.
Grumbling, she pulled out a pair of thicker lockpicks. These did the trick. The lock did not so much *click* as it made a rasping sound as it opened, due to its poor condition.
The room beyond the door was very small and dark, and was lined with shelves, almost all of which were empty. However, in a small wooden box on one shelf, she found three blocks of incense which smelled sweet and fragrant even though they must have been here for years.
"Finally something that smells nice down here!" she thought, as she took the incense. Darian shifted over to the west door. She wasn't wasting any time. If she could, she would just grab Alsander and go. And of course take some treasure.
She paused for a moment. Calidor would insist on searching for other prisoners. Darian never really understood that man. He would kill himself for other people. In fact, she was surprised he hadn't done so already. She tried the west door.
Darian went to the other door and gave it a cursory once-over. Reaching for the handle, she opened it.
A spear hurtled from the trap within, and Darian suffered a grazing cut.
{Take 4 damage. I did roll to see if she found the trap, but she failed.}
There was nothing beyond the door save the spear-launching mechanism.
Darian continued south. She was getting frustrated with this place. All she really wanted to do was go home.
It was dark to the south, and Darian needed her torch to see by. Her footsteps crunched on chips of stone, and as she looked down she could see other footprints heading this way! Vigilantly, she walked quietly on. Soon she saw a small side-passage to the east which ended at a wooden door with a small iron grille in it. She could investigate this, or continue south.
Darian decided to investigate. The wooden door with an iron grille looked like it could be a prison room. After all, she was looking for Alsander, not just valuables.
She checked for traps as she approached. Darian peeked through the grille.
Peering through the grille, Darian could just make out two slumped human bodies lying on a pile of filthy straw inside a dank, unlit cell. Clearing her throat, she called, "Alsander?" No response. "Hello?" A long pause, then a faint moan came from one of the figures.
It dawned on her that she didn't know what Alsander looked like. She'd also greedily drank all her healing potions. Not a good situation.
Darian pulled out her lockpicks and in little time at all the door was open.
Darian opened the cell door, and made sure it wouldn't close on her by leaving a sack in the way. She went in to help the prisoners. She attempted to speak to them to find out if one of them was Alsander.
"I'm going to save you both, but I must know if either of you is Alsander," she said.
Inside the foul and filthy-smelling cell, she found that one of the prisoners was already dead. The other, a human, groaned, barely conscious; he was clearly very ill. It was doubtful she would get a lucid answer from him in his present condition. He was painfully thin, and smelled terrible -- he probably hadn't been fed at all since he had been taken captive. While Darian was no expert, she could tell that this poor man didn't have long to live.
Darian felt really bad. She knew if she'd been more brave, the prisoner might have survived. She had to try to save the living one.
Darian fumbled for her Golem Eye diamond. It's round, brilliant cut face refracted the torch light perfectly. She had absolutely no experience cutting diamonds. But there was no way she was going to sacrifice the whole thing.
She spread out the dress on the ground, trying to make a flat area to work on. She opened her thieves' tools, and pulled out her tweezers. With these, she attempted to hold the diamond. She took her +2 dagger, and carefully placed the point into the top of the diamond. Raising the flat side of Balidarda as a hammer, she gave out a hesitant sigh. Darian then hit the top of the dagger with a quick, sharp tap.
{She's hoping the diamond was split into at least two smaller pieces. Sorry, but the diamond was worth 120 gp (a.k.a. 1200 gp) and there is *no way in hell* I could play Darian in character and have her sac the whole diamond. If she can't cut the diamond at all, I'll have to think of another way. If one of the pieces of diamond is worth under 50 gp, she will carefully carry the man back to the statue, and give it the smallest diamond. She's hoping it will cast it's healing dust on the man.}
Unfortunately, while Darian's heart was in the right place, she did not know the first thing about gem cutting. Try as she might, she could not even scratch the diamond. At least the magical properties of the dagger kept it from being damaged.
She heard something... the man was saying something! His voice was barely a whisper: "Water.... please...."
{The man looks sick, not wounded.}
Darian wasn't used to being around men who were sick. If a man was going to be sick, she'd usually just go to the other end of the bar.
She pulled out her water and some food. She put the water down beside him, sincerely hoping she wouldn't have to serve it to him. While she'd seen Andarra, Kayla, and Calidor helping wounded and ill people many times, she'd rarely actually helped. Dealing with sick, diseased, deranged, and otherwise unappealing people was not something Darian enjoyed doing. And in her normal daily routine, it was not something she had to anyway. The fact that there could be another fifty cells like this (for all she knew) still deeply bothered her.
Darian was about as good at nursing as she was at gem cutting. But she decided to help him anyway. She held the bottle up so he could drink. She was actually hoping this was not Alsander. This was not her idea of a romantic rescue.
After waiting a bit for him to recover, Darian tried to get some information from the man. "Okay, so, what's your name?" she asked, with a polite, but slightly unimpressed smile. She asked him how he got here, and if he knew of any other prisoners. In particular, she asked about Alsander.
She gave the man some food and water, and he seemed to revive briefly. He was still very ill, but at least Darian's kind act made him more comfortable, and he whispered a few words: "No... not Alsander. Orcs... guards... south. You could surprise them... secret door in west before their door... but later, beyond, evil..." and then he was too weak to say any more. He coughed horribly, and his last act was to point at a part of the wall behind him. With that, and a final gasp, he died.
Looking at the wall where he pointed, she observed one slightly loosened brick which was out of reach of the chained prisoners.
Darian moved over to the wall, and tried to remove the loosened brick.
{If necessary, she'll pry it with her sword.}
As Darian pried the brick away, she revealed a small, black, wooden box with clasps of brass. It was latched, but not visibly locked.
Darian turned the box away from her, and slowly opened it.
She opened the box carefully, and inside she found a stoppered glass vial. It contained a liquid, deep red in colour.
Darian headed out of the cell. She quietly headed south, scanning the west wall carefully for a secret door.
Pleased with her find, she decided to go back into the main corridor leading south and checked the west wall for the secret door the man in the cell told her about.
She saw an obvious and definitely *not* concealed door at the end of the corridor -- but she also found a concealed door in the western wall of the passage, about ten yards away from it. Cautiously she opened the secret door and passed along the narrow tunnel beyond. The tunnel was very dark, and she needed her torch to see. It was dusty and damp, and the air was very stale. The tunnel wound to the west, then southwards, and then turned east again to an apparent dead end; she guessed that there must be another secret door, which she quickly found. If the man was right, there would be orc guards behind it.
