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Number of posts : 761
Registration date : 2007-04-26

PostSubject: Breakthrough   Tue 17 May - 17:32:50


Amazingly, the friendly old scholar Suderin had an amazing lack of good judgement when it came to trusting perfect strangers dripping with blood and telling him tall tales however grounded in the truth they might coincidentally be. Ironically, the final clincher was when he confronted our super mutant Snorri: Apparently our old friend Yazaran had been at it again prophecy wise and it was the failure of the old boy to make a dent on our four armed freak that convinced him that we were the prophesised ones.

I dunno if it’s just me, but I can’t help feelin’ that maybe if Mr Yazaran had put a bit more effort in the ‘keeping it secret, keeping it safe’ business, and little less in the ‘let’s really cack things up for a bunch of idiots a hundred years from now’ business, he wouldn’t have lost the SODOFFCOCKs* in the first place.

*Fully explained last week, keep up will you?

Thoroughly convinced that we were all good eggs* by our joint efforts, we made our way back to the temple, confident that we could carry the ritual through with support from our unexpected ally.

*By our dark elf witch, yes, unbelievable I know

And we did, Snorri taking the place of the deceased dwarf monarch* in one of the two thrones and after a great deal of ritual preparation and chanting, plus valedictions supplied by Suderin, we witnessed the reanimation of the ghoulish gargoyle statues and they placed a bemused Snorri on the funeral slab.

*Weren’t the Dwarf Monarchs a US football team?

The critical stage in the ceremony was upon us and was performed by our witch, summoning a powerful fire elemental that spiritually and literally cleansed Snorri with flames. Now there are those who say that if you have a fire doomstone wielder who is completely immune to any effects of flame or fire, he’s the logical choice for a fiery entombing ritual. But oh no, not us: We used a self basting, fat packed dwarf wearing a Mohican that doubled as blue touch paper and with a beard that would burn like a catholic plotter on bonfire night.

So Snorri duly was seared to a crisp by an elemental to whom the concept of extremely rare/ blue was completely alien. Oops. As the elemental vanished, somehow the charred hulk that had once been a twisted mutant magically reconstituted itself, no doubt a miraculous component of the burial process.

The gargoyles took up the now highly realistic corpse and headed for the previously implacable exit which opened, revealing a passageway beyond and we all duly piled after them, ascending to a huge open cavern that was filled with dwarves. And water.

This was something of a surprise, but the dwarves too were caught out, to the extent that they ceased their fruitless searching for Hagrim’s tomb and gasped in astonishment as they realised that the ritual had been performed. Some of them didn’t look best pleased, but their shock and confusion allowed us to progress across the cavern to the point where the tomb had to be.

Our Dark elf detected the tomb and spelt out the name of the last king of these halls. This triggered at last the opening of the tomb, something that the dwarves alone had failed to achieve in all the time they had spent here.

Andilwei stepped in and achieved something else that the dwarves had failed to do since their arrival: He triggered the start of a general rockfall. Good work by the elf then. Simultaneously the previously placid gargoyles decided to intervene and began to grapple with us.

The elf decided to make a run for it into the passageway and down the stairs beyond, but the rest of us were too busy struggling with the gargoyles until Snorri managed to seize control of them through his doomstone. An irritated dwarf captain pursued the sea elf down the increasingly rubble choked corridor and Snorri sent a gargoyle down towards the sound of a now distressed and trapped elf.

He had managed to imprison himself between two portcullis’s which had neatly contained the unwanted tomb invader, whilst also releasing forty stone snakes to destroy the threat. The elf eventually succumbed to the torrent of poisonous bites having forgotten his Indiana Jones whip and outfit. The dwarf captain was doing a pretty passable imitation of Snorri although he didn’t quite get the arms right, and was despatching snakes with monotonous and ruthless efficiency whilst they blunted their fangs on his impressive armour.

Snorri now blasted the tomb a new one with his doomstone, fusing the newly collapsed rock leaving a crawlway which I entered only to singe myself on scalding rock. Harvey scampered in quickly however and vanished down the stairs that led to the fight. The gargoyle sent by Snorri meanwhile tore down the portcullis, allowing access to the by now unconscious elf.

Unfortunately Harvey’s alacrity was his undoing and the faithful hound’s brave heart was stilled by the fanged foes before the dwarf crushed the last. We arrived to tend to the insensible elf, still trailed by the stone enslaved gargoyles. The last stone must now lie very close…

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