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Number of posts : 760
Registration date : 2007-04-26

PostSubject: Strewth!   Tue 8 Feb - 18:31:45


Strewth! Iíve just had a day I donít want to come round again in a hurry. In fact Iím still having it. First of all weíre dragged off on some wild wallaby chase by our new dwarf friend to find some scraps of paper he thinks worth the lives of his own let alone ours. Next we are still lumbered with Oakshadow and her chaos spawned wight, not to mention the daemons trapped in them doomstones that seem to be must have fashion accessory for most everyone in the party.

Well I say most everyone, time was that would have been truth, but now what with Doctors, dogs and whores its getting so you canít find an honest adventurer amongst the hangers on and harlots. The doc is a serial pipe smoker who very nearly pronounced something correctly a few weeks ago.

Snorri who had seemed quite a good egg has really turned: Some of my best friends have been dwarves, but if he says anything these days itís a threat, a complaint or a cuss, and the snooty elf just keeps getting lost.

Meanwhile the new fellaí has about as much sense as a madman trying to knock down the last prop holding up a dodgy ceiling. Donít believe me? Just ask him which way is south, but put your brain in neutral first in case it accidentally absorbs any of the rubbish that flows forth.

Any way, as if itís not bad enough already the weatherís turning for the worse, and in an Ďicicles stabbing you through the heartí kind of way, rather than any nice Ďoh isnít it a lovely clear fresh mountain air dayí kind of way.

So we have one of our usual reasoned strategic discussions; carefully evaluating our tactical options as we holed up below the peak where good Flintbrow assured us lay our objective. It was such a fruitful and productive discussion that within an hour several of us were within an inch of opening each others gizzards to allow the removal of any unnecessarily encumbering internal organs.

The dwarf scholar indicated several options: basically a direct approach through the main entrance, or a longer more dangerous climb to find a more discreet ventilation or light shaft that might be unguarded. The peak was steep and the weather was closing in still further, with gusts that threatened to pluck a careless climber from any treacherous crag.

Snorri of course favoured the direct approach, but then with his physique, he probably climbs like an elephant. Throw in an invincibility to weapons and I suppose it is obvious that you donít mind strolling up to a heavily defended front door in the teeth of determined opposition who have been watching your approach for hours.

Mitchell Getz favoured the Ďweíre here to kill bad guysí direct approach, and newcomer Owen weighed in his support. I found myself in the uneasy position of agreeing with the elf duo who thought the less confrontational approach more prudent.

Snorri decided that a little persuasion was in order and took me to one side where he expounded some surprisingly convincing arguments.* Now thoroughly in agreement with his marching in to the jaws of death tactic I returned to the discussion in time to witness Oakshadow ascending into the air as she flaunted her doomstone power again.

*The essential focus of his approach centred on my future well being, or to be more accurate the lack of it should I fail to see things his way

As always, the doomstones are a delight to work with and never cause any problems, and this occasion was no exception. As we picked ourselves out of the dust where the dark elf whirlwind had thrown us, we found our good friend the orc shaman back on sparkling form as free of the necromancers controlling presence, he suddenly recalled his former existence. This unfortunately had been coloured by a marked dislike for all of us and a strong desire to relieve us of our burdensome doomstones. That and our killing of him had probably failed to endear us to him. Plus hey, he was a wight.

The shaman wight attacked as Oakshadowís control disappeared into the aethyr selecting Snorri as target, striking a terrible blow that staggered the little fighter. We all leapt into action, even Harvey taking a good bite out of the creatureís leg and I finished the fell former dark elf slave christening my new pick.

Quite where Oakshadow has gone who can say, the only clue was a gentle rain of vomit that gently spattered one of the harlots a few minutes later. We can only imagine that she has flown up to find one of the ventilations shafts spoken of by our patron. At least her absence and my late conversion to frontal attack meant there was little further debate on our route.

Leaving the good doctor and the pleasures of the flesh behind, we began our climb, eventually resorting to pitons and rope to negotiate increasingly difficult surface. Twice I slipped and was only saved by Getz as we continued the ascent, and I was thoroughly battered by the time we all pulled ourselves up onto the ledge where a heavy stone gate acted as a typical dwarven reverse welcome mat.

Snorri, no doubt heartened by the continued success and good fortune that accompanied our every use of the doomstone, at once seized the initiative and rather than another hour of cut throat debate let loose his daemonic weapon against the implacable doors.

The power he unleashed was terrible to see, drilling straight through the gates and far beyond. There was also a minor backwash so to speak, as the chaos corruption flashed back over the party. It had a curious effect on our metal objects, bending and twisting anything of that material out of shape. No one came off worse than my good self though, as my shiny mailshirt turned itself inside out and ripped half my torso to shreds in the process. As I remarked at the time: Strewth!

Flintbrow had some healing skills and did what he could for me, pulling me inside where we found a fortunate side effect of the doomstone bolt of power was the petrification of the half a score orc and goblin defenders who had been lying in wait. We searched the guard rooms and entrance chamber, but beyond the stony former defenders there was little of interest except to perhaps a student of dwarven engineering.

Our scout and Owen followed the flight of stairs that led away from this chamber, now grotesquely scarred with daemonic visages carved there by the power of the earthstone. They detected another guardroom far below where four black orcs gambled away their watch. Just to make my day, I had picked up a cold and was left to bring up the rear lest my sniffles and sneezes should alert the defenders, but we neednít of worried, we fell on them and wiped them out in a brilliantly swift, successful and ruthless attack.*

*Which is letís face it, a bit of a record for us. We must leave ruth behind more often.

Wiping the blood from our blades we continued on cautiously, arriving at a major hall where an orc leader was holding court to a packed house. Still, my day canít get any worse, can it? Strewth!

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