Aron only opened the door once the group was ready bows in hand, spirits raised. The corridor, dimly lit, was ominous in its glow. The party shuffled forward in curiosity. At the far end of the call stood a bifurcated statue of someone long gone, flanked by two stout doors. THere were two similar alcoves closer holding menacing men with glaives. Before them stood a section of the floor different than the others. It beckoned investigation. Aron knelt low, expecting the mechanism to spring at his touch. Sure enough, two portcullises dropped down to ensnare the unsuspecting. The statues seemingly came to life as they struck down their blades against the floor until it fell away, revealing a deep pit. The halfling felt especially accomplished for detecting the device and disabling the mechanism safely for others.
The party shuffled down the remainder of the hall. Stopping at the two doors, both the rogue and ranger took time listening beyond the barrier. Bledden responded in the negative. Meanwhile, Aron detected faint shuffling beyond his portal.
At this point it is proper to mention nobody can tell what goes through a hobbits head when they have an idea. It is best described by the result, both fantastic like bacon flavored ice cream and inconceivable such as Aron’s idea…
The hobbit’s eyes grew, looking back to his companions. A flash of confusion washed over them as the hobbit began speaking draconic as menacing as a three foot creature could. Bad Bartigan rolled his fortitude save not to laugh. Encouraging the haflings thinking, Calmar initiated a strange roar of beasts. Who ever was behind the door would either be not impressed or rolling on the floor laughing. The element of suprise was lost to madness. “Oh well,” Bad said to himself. “Here goes nothing, Aaarg!”, he led rushing through the door, war face and all.
Immediately the group felt the same terror that filled them facing the pair of Yath hounds. There was only one dog this time but commanded by a beautiful angel of demonic scars. It was her! Brion rushed into position for flanking while the hound let out a howl. Anne felt the tinges of fear but was able to push back the urge to run this time. She could see Bledden’s panic and knew he was not so lucky. Motioning to Calmar, Anna coordinated to keep the warrior from running off to regions unknown. Somehow, the magus was able to hold the stout ranger long enough for the cleric to cast a hold spell. First crisis avoided.
Bad stepped into the room, deftly dodging both the yath hound and evil cleric’s attack attempts. A confident smile, smug even, filled his grin as he trashed down a solid hit against the mistress of the keep. Aron followed up with a well placed sling stone that cracked bone where it struck. Brion attempted to penetrate the fell cleric’s defences but each blow glanced off her, one erringly striking Bad in the arm. Then the evil cleric took retribution, severly wounding the monk and then felling him. Things began to look dire.
Anna felt it was not the best situation but decided to channel her positive energy into saving Brion. This also had equal effect on Nutela. Aron was not having success with the attacks, so he helped contain Bledden as he awoke from his hold. Calmar found his energy to deliver true attacks against the fell one. Energy rippled over her skin, some being absorbed and only causing samll burn marks. Calmar and Bad then began shifting their position to flank her. Meanwhile, the yath hound attempted attacks in vain. Focusing her attack, Nutela strikes at the monk in rage for his insolence of breathing again. Deja vu over came Brion, the spiral path of Pharasma once more in front of him, if only for a few seconds, before he could feel the touch on his chest. “Jaigo?” questioned the monk. It was really Bartigan applying troll septic to the wound, which quickly began to regenerate ever so slow. Somehow he dodged the evil cleric’s blows while doing so. She grew in her vexation.
Anna loaded the cross bow with the silver bolt and took aim. A critical strike to the yath hound struck the animal dumb and incapacitated. Fortune began to shine on the group. Bledden, having come to his senses, rushed back to the group. Flashbacks of Jaigo’s death filled his mind seeing Brion down. “Not this time!” resolved the ranger, moving into position to supply a potion to the prone monk. “Just play dead,” was the ranger’s recommendation as Bartigan and Calmar dealt with the Aisimar’s attacks. The fighter made a show by spouting poetry about a rainbow of pain, but then proceeded to miss. Then Anna got an idea…
The problem with thrown weapons is that they bounce around if the miss their target. This happens a lot when the table is rolling sub-ten.
Three tanglefoot bags later, Brion is moving half his speed which keeps up with half the party. Calmar is glued to the floor. And Nutela is escaping through an obscuring mist and last ditch invisibility draught. Anna tried caltrops, Bledden tried one last tanglefoot bag, and yet Bad was able to place himself between the door and the hallway beyond, only to feel a small breeze past by. Was she still in the room? He shut the door hedging his bet. It was a fruitless search. She had escaped. Meanwhile the party counted their blessings and took note of the next time.
Aron broke the party’s exasperation, “I am going back to the room to check for gold, I mean loot. No, traps! That is what i mean traps, yes…” the halfing flared his fingers together mischievous.