Excerpt from the histories of Helious Prime.

When we left the next day along with the others I had met previously there was a large winged snake. It had a massive rune glowing above its eyes as did the prettiest of the swarthy little humans. The runes were identical. His looks were now less apparent with the massive rune glowing on his forehead. It seemed like a mark of ownership and I wondered who owned whom or if they really knew.

On our way there I listened to their talk of debilitating disease and the need for scrolls and made the suggestion of a wand or restoration – maybe less then fully charged if cost was an issue. We wisely detoured to purchase said item- no wonder they were having such a hard time of it if they couldn’t do the least of preparations. I do wonder how ‘humans’ survive at all such is their lack of vision.

It also seemed as if the non-shoanti woman had a pet hippogriff that she looked in on. I envy what it must be like to be able to be at range AND have a mount never mind a flying one.

We entered the hospice through the locked back door, it was curious but somehow expected from such a ragged bunch of malcontents. We crowded into the elevator, I was tempted to issue some orders and direct them how to stand as to not interfere in each others movement but was stupified watching them bustle and buff, not really communicating what they were doing or when and just assuming all would be fine when the fighting started.

It turns out the shoanti is male after all, ugly but male, in the bustling in the lift, and when we entered the fray and when ..he.. stopped adhering to a strict posture and stance some extra arms constrained under his cloak became apparent.  It took some moments for him to pump his fingers and wave them about before he could arm them with war razors. I wondered why he would hide such gifts.

Now that I actually bothered looking it became apparent that they were always a little obvious. It reminded me of sneaking a mug of mead out of a brew house on closing: you had to have a very static posture, a big coat and constantly make efforts – second to second – at disguising it. Each second the bouncer had a chance to seeing it and of giving you a noggin. As he moved - every so often - even if he was trying to hide it you would catch a glimpse if you were watching.. lucks like that you will see things eventually.  I don’t know why his friends don’t point out how silly it is or how it’s not really hidden or the stupidity in restricting blood flow to limbs.  Why they don’t tell him its silly?

I suppose some friends more worried about others response then their welfare. Suppose that’s why our Dwarven fathers tell us elves (n I suppose some humans) can never be true friends to dwarf.

 

Well the doors opened and we were instantly bombarded by some kind of monstrous archer. It reminded me of a cross between our archer and her pet - perhaps some foul alchemy had combined, twisted and corrupted one of the sable marines into this disease ridden abomination.  I was surprised at first the others weren’t much help, charging forth, getting in the way, not focusing on the strengths of the group only chasing personal glory. So I copied the archer as she was used to the group: maneuvering away from the group, ignoring flanks uncovered by our melee warriors in blind faith and just blasting away. I am glad that when I focus on one shot I get extra range from my weapon, I pity Justin as with his shorter range and the scattered movements of the group it would have been hard to consistently damage. I suppose that’s why he cast so many spells instead of relying on class abilities to damage foes.

I quickly found my rhythm and consistently hammered the creature even though it was remarkably resistant. The snake monster seemed well able at grappling and I decided it was the master of the two marked by slave runes. Its pretty pet did little apart from buff the snake thing. Oh and occasionally use a wand of magic missile (an armored dwarves most horrible nightmare). I have heard elf wizards make their raven familiars do much the same thing.

The cleric seemed to really like the female archer and constantly lurked at the back near her and rubbed against her bestowing some sort of blessing. It seemed such attentions would have been better spent on the ever talkative barbarian who seemed to have more trouble hitting and far less trouble damaging or resisting. Some really are suckers for a bit of monkey tail.  

Some web appeared and trapped the cleric, archer and familiar. The corrupt archer abomination also dominated the barbarian who was unfortified. My movement choices were wiser and I continued to chip away at the beast while the snake and barbarian tussled and the familiar mandrave, after some advice on fire placement, effectively burnt others and not just himself out of the web. Then as we cooperatively brought our forces to bear the much wounded creature quickly fell.

We then retreated with most of us being heavily wounded and sickened. As we exited some female cleric, another of these stout olive skinned hairy human types, was disgusted that such peril waited beneath the hospice. The others were to exhausted it seemed and simply dismissed her to retire. The wand was being saved but I suggested we use it before leaving; after all we were now apparently a target for the queen. That idea was ironically deemed unwise and with blind faith, trust and reliance we walked the streets wounded and partially crippled. 

The next day we returned through the streets still far from strong and scammed some healing of the assembled clerics. I wonder what they must think seeing just the day before we assembled them to ‘help the civilians’. Alas I now no doubt will be lumped with them for worse or better.  After some heavy use of the wand of restoration we were ready to descend again..