Chapter #1160
previous chapter (#1159)
next chapter (#1161)
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+ THE ADVENTURERS +
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+ Epic VI +
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+ Many of the locations, non-player characters, spells, and other +
+ terms used in these stories are the property of Wizards of the Coast +
+ which has in no way endorsed or authorized their use. Any such +
+ property contained within these stories are not representative of +
+ Wizards of the Coast in any fashion. +
+ The player characters depicted in these stories are copyright +
+ 1991-2024 by Thomas A. Miller. Any resemblance to any persons +
+ or characters either real or fictional is utterly coincidental. +
+ Copying and/or distribution of these stories is permissible under +
+ the sole condition that no money is made in the process. In that +
+ case, I hope you enjoy them! +
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+ Belphanior 18th/18th/18th level elven fighter/wizard/thief +
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+ Date: Richfest day 1, after 6/28/586 C.Y. (Common Year) +
+ Time: late nighttime +
+ Place: the royal palace in Istivin, amid occupied Sterich +
+ Climate: dark and chilly +
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+ "I am not a murderer. I am a force of nature. A servant of +
+ fate. I enable destiny." +
+ - Vandal Savage, from _DC's Legends of Tomorrow_ +
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MCLX. Might and Magic
The royal palace at Istivin had been built several centuries ago, in
times happier and more prosperous than the present. It was a sprawling
castle with some five primary floors as well as numerous towers which
rose twice that height above the ground, not to mention three levels of
basements and dungeons beneath the palace proper. Once a center of power
for the Earl of Sterich, himself a vassal of the Duke of Keoland, this
palace - like the city around it - had fallen to marauding giants and
humanoids, its occupants either fled or slain. For more than two years,
the once-noble and -magnificent edifice had been subject to the depraved
urges and whims of the bloodthirsty conquerors of this and other nearby
lands. The halls and chambers were wrecked, the fine artwork smashed or
otherwise vandalized. Stains of blood and other substances decorated
many of the walls and floors. Windows had been smashed for no reason,
doors torn from their hinges, trees chopped down, bushes torn up, and so
on. As for the city's former denizens who had been not been fortunate
enough to escape, all but a couple hundred of those prisoners had been
slain and eaten, and the ranks of the survivors were shrinking on a daily
basis. At long last, the giants and their humanoid allies (or perhaps
shock troops, depending on who was asked) were running out of provisions
after years of unsustainable resource management and poor decisions. The
royal palace's vast stores of food and drink had gradually been consumed,
followed by those of the surrounding city, and then those of the entire
countryside from one end of Sterich to the other. Livestock had been
butchered, while fields of crops had been needlessly set aflame. While
the royal treasury had been looted and emptied long ago, coinage and
gemstones could not be eaten (although a few of the more dim-witted
invaders surely tried). They had won themselves a land but then quickly
and mindlessly stripped it of its ability to sustain them. Stomachs
were grumbling, morale was weakening, and the majority of the occupying
force was discontent at best, or ready to desert at worst. And thus it
was that matters such as diligent and regular sentries keeping watchful
eyes out for anyone who didn't belong...were not quite top of mind these
days. Especially not on the top levels of the palace, which in a giant's
world were the most secure places.
It was almost midnight, and almost every occupant of the palace was
asleep, many of them from the effects of what little ale and other drink
they had left. This included the giant-king Galmoor, who had taken up
residence in the former chambers of the Earl himself, moving furniture
around to better suit his sizable stature. This had resulted in a bed
formed of a huge pile of mattresses, blankets, and pillows...a pile
which, after two years, was filthy and full of holes, lice, and gods
knew what else. Here, on this fateful night, the hill giant monarch lay
in a deep slumber brought on by the immense amounts of food, drink, and
debauchery he'd engaged in several hours earlier. His three giantess
concubines had retreated to other chambers (as his snoring was legendary
even among giants, often seeming to shake the stone walls all around) and
so Galmoor currently lay face-down atop a stinking heap of old bedding,
snoring fiercely, a steady line of drool leaking from his open mouth.
He was not unprotected, though, as his personal guard of two large and
loyal hill giant champions stood outside of his chambers. They didn't
care for this duty, but they were well-rewarded with their own chambers
as well as all the food and drink they wanted (not to mention frequent
dalliances with the king's concubines when the king himself didn't want
their companionship).
So this was the state of things within the royal (but no longer regal)
palace of Istivin on this night: the vast majority of the giants, ogres,
gnolls, and orcs were fast asleep, many of them likely dreaming of more
prosperous times. A few, here and there, remained awake or on duty for
various reasons. And their king was in a deep slumber brought on by his
excesses, which in turn were likely brought on by the numerous stresses
he had been dealing with lately.
Although these occupants didn't yet know it - and had no way of knowing
it - death had come to the royal palace this night.
Belphanior: (magically invisible and inaudible in addition to his own
natural skills, he glides down the spiral staircase leading from the
rooftop)
The tower he'd taken opened onto the roof, which was reached by stone
steps that wound around a core of solid stone. It was likely that all
of the towers were similar in construction, but the elf had chosen the
one that provided the most direct route to his primary quarry. As he
descended, he held his sword lightly and focused his attention (and his
magical eye's powers) on the path ahead, scanning for both guards and
traps of any sort. Just as, say, Mongo was a one-person army, Belphanior
was a one-person infiltration crew. He figured that as long as stealth
was on his side, he would be fine here...and if battle erupted and he
became outnumbered, he would likely still be fine, given his augmented
strength and speed along with his extensive fighting experience. And of
course there was the dark blade he carried, which drained the life force
of those it slew and channeled some of that energy into its wielder to
replenish energy and heal wounds.
He noted that the staircase below opened into a larger chamber, part
of the palace proper, before continuing in its winding descent. He was
just about to skip this floor and continue downward when a massive form
entered the tower and began to climb, not even ten feet down the stone
stairway from where he currently stood.
ogre: (gnawing on a leg bone that's unmistakably human in origin, he
heads up the steps)
Belphanior: (catches himself before a curse can escape his lips, and
steps to one side to make room for the oblivious humanoid)
The ogre passed the elf...and then stopped in surprise, wondering in
its dim mind what had just happened. By the time its gaze registered
the sword-point protruding from the front of its neck - conveniently
preventing it from shouting or otherwise raising an alarm - it was fast
dying and slumped to the floor of the tower stairway.
Belphanior: (catches the body even as its life-force flows into his
ebon blade)
Before this journey began, the elf had appropriated a girdle of giant
strength from the trove of various magical items recovered (a mix of his
group's stolen items and Rary's own). Thanks to that enchanted belt, he
was able to catch and hold the heavy corpse without a problem, and then
lower it to the stone steps. He needed to stash it somewhere else, but
first he had to find a place...and that meant clearing the room below.
Leaving the slain ogre propped against the curved side of the stairway,
Belphanior silently moved back down and then through the archway leading
into that chamber. Given that his invisibility had now ceased, he was
glad to see that the area was vacant, although it looked like it had been
used fairly recently. Flames burned low in a fireplace, and a pot full
of some foul broth rested nearby, as did a large barrel of wine (judging
from the purple stains on the floor beneath it).
The elf hadn't felt any remorse for murdering the ogre, especially
given that it had been chewing on the remains of someone's leg; what he
saw in this room only reinforced his resolve. There were other body
parts hanging from what had once been used as a clothes rack, and a wide
variety of bones littered the room. Two things were apparent: the ogres
were slobs, and they had taken to eating prisoners.
Belphanior: (shakes his head and tightens his jaw grimly)
He decided then and there that there would be absolutely no mercy for
any humanoids he encountered tonight. Turning his attention to his dark
sword, he used its powers to check for nearby souls, and found but one
more on this floor - in one of the other towers/stairways, to be exact.
It was slowly descending from above, and would be in this chamber quite
soon. Wasting no time, Belphanior strode across the room and positioned
himself next to the opening from that tower into this area. Just moments
later, another ogre arrived...and was slain as quickly and efficiently as
the first. Some quick searching revealed a small closet full of musty
human-sized clothes; the two corpses were put there and the door closed.
The next order of business was to return to his primary objective. He
used a particular stairwell to again move downward, and shortly he found
himself peering around the stairway wall, into a massive and once-lavish
audience hall. Like every single area he'd seen thus far, this one had
been thoroughly trashed over time by the palace's current occupants. Yet
despite that, it was clearly still being used as an audience hall for
someone, even if that someone was dim-witted giants. Better still, the
large chamber matched the information obtained from the Seeking Scroll
less than an hour ago...which meant that in an adjacent chamber was the
ruler of the occupying force, one King Galmoor himself.
Of course, it wasn't going to be that easy. The way to the king was
obvious, given that a particular large double door was flanked on either
side by two hill giants of unusual size and build (even for hill giants).
Each of them stood almost twenty feet tall, was clad in metal armor, and
had a gigantic weapon strapped to its side - one was a sword, the other a
spiked mace. The elf ducked his head back into the tower stairwell as he
silently assessed the situation. The bad news was that these brutes were
almost certainly better combatants than typical for their kind, and would
be quite hard to kill, especially with a single, silent strike (even a
backstabbing attack). The good news was that they wore no helmets, which
made their exposed heads and necks their weak points; it was just a matter
of exploiting those weak points without allowing the guards to raise any
sort of alarm. Belphanior went through some options in his mind, chose
one, then used his sword's power to hasten himself before executing his
plan.
hill giant champion #1: (blinks as something suddenly glitters on the
carpet nearby) Huh? What's-
hill giant champion #2: (in a hushed voice) Shhh. Don't want to wake
up the king...he'll be pissed. And blame us.
hill giant champion #1: (nods, lowering his voice substantially) Right.
(he peers at the whatever-it-is, which appears to be a large gemstone)
hill giant champion #2: I see it too.
While Belphanior's simple phantasmal illusion had distracted the pair
of guards, his real intention was to get them making just enough noise
to mask the murmured words he needed to speak for a longer time in order
to cast his _second_ spell. This much more potent one, if it worked,
would immobilize one or both of the giants in place, unable to move or
speak.
hill giant champion #1: (suddenly becomes motionless)
hill giant champion #2: (blinks) Huh? (he regards his companion with
a quizzical look) Hey, what're you up to? (he pokes the other, who
just stands there silently)
The giant wasn't that smart, but he also wasn't dumb. He hadn't gotten
his enviable position here without displaying some cunning and tactical
intelligence.
hill giant champion #2: (hefts his giant spiked mace and scans the room
for intruders just as he prepares to shout a warning to whoever might
hear it)
The words never left his throat, because Belphanior - enhanced by his
magical speed - sprinted out of the chamber's shadows, leaped up, and
slashed at the foe's throat with his sword. Knowing that a killing blow
would be challenging - as it was, his sword's tip could barely reach the
giant's neck - the elf had instead opted for a targeted silencing blow.
hill giant champion #2: (staggers, gurgling blood from the deep cut in
his throat and shoulder) glurg.
While his attack had worked as hoped, Belphanior had a problem now, as
the giant wasn't falling down. Instead, he continued to stumble about,
clutching his profusely-bleeding throat with one hand while swinging his
spiked mace at the elf with the other. Those lumbering footfalls were
making more noise than the elf would have cared for, and he needed to
end this fight before reinforcements showed up.
Belphanior: (looks for and spots a couple of gaps in the armor covering
the giant's legs, barely dodges a swing from the mace, darts in, and
stabs one of those vulnerable points with his sword, quickly pulling
it back so that it doesn't risk getting its tip snapped off)
hill giant champion #2: glurk. (as that leg collapses from under him,
he falls to one knee)
Belphanior: (wastes no time, stabbing the giant in the back of the head)
hill giant champion #2: (his eyes roll up into the back of his head as
he falls to the floor face-first)
Belphanior: (frowns at the resultant impact and noise, and then frowns
again as he feels the deep scrapes across his back, inflicted by the
second giant's spiked mace, which are now healing thanks to absorbed
life energy)
The elf hadn't had his own armor or bracers for a while, so he'd taken
the slain Rary's bracers when the wizard's magical possessions were being
divided amongst the nine wizards of the Bright Alliance. Despite being
exceptionally powerful, the wrist-guards had not protected Belphanior's
back from the attack; thankfully, his dark sword made the damage a moot
point. He acted quickly now, as time was of the essence due to the noise
of the brief combat. He left the first giant alone and immobilized, as
that spell would last a while yet and he had a more pressing foe to deal
with. Darting over to the double door, he found it locked but free of
traps, and set about picking the lock. It didn't take long, and moments
later one of the doors was slowly pulled open...
King Galmoor: (fully awake although clad only in a crude leather tunic,
he hurls a giant-sized throwing axe, which is about the size and weight
of a human-sized battleaxe, at the space where the door just opened)
next: king vs assassin
map: http://www.peldor.com/world/atlas/bright_desert_1156.jpg
www: http://www.peldor.com/download.html
homepage: http://www.peldor.com/
email: tmiller@peldor.com
released: 7/26/2024
notes: When I was just about done with this one, I realized that
some might criticize it as being too easy for Belphanior. I would say
this in response: he had good intelligence/scouting, he had a strong
means of covert entry, he had numerous sensory advantages, and he also
had some potent offensive and defensive advantages. He knew exactly
where he was going ahead of time, too. So yes, the infiltration was
a bit on the easy side...because - as Belphanior often does - he used
everything at his disposal to stack the deck in his favor.
I hadn't intended to discuss a parallel between this and an elite
special operations team planning and executing a mission in the real
world, but the analogy is certainly valid.
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