Saturday 12 February 2022

4 Yarthmont - Feeling crushed

 With his cuts cleaned up, Demetrius threw open the door to the consultation room and strode up the corridor. At the junction he turned right, and then turned left at the next junction. Faced with a blank wall, he stepped on a slightly protruding flagstone in one corner of the corridor and pushed the wall ahead of him. It swung open to let him into another corridor. Right, then left and a longer walk before he turned right. The door to Darius' chambers lay ahead. Demetrius strode forwards and suddenly the walls crashed in towards him. He dodged but not quickly enough and cried out in pain (5 DAM).

The noise was huge and he felt sure that Darius must now be warned of his approach. Speed would be to his benefit now. If he were quick enough, he might reach Darius before he was fully prepared. Casting cure light wounds, he healed the damage the trap had done (Heal 6 HP), reflecting how Darius had beefed up the defences here since he had been alive.

Kicking the door in ahead of him, he was confronted with the strange sight of ten people in dark robes and masks representing nightmare creatures all standing in a circle, motionless and not reacting to Demetrius at all. Suddenly one of them screamed in terror. Demetrius jumped, but he recognised people in thrall to Zargon and knew they were harmless unless he attacked them. Darius' chambers were to his right, so he moved swiftly to the door on that side of the room and kicked that one open too.

This room too was full of people, this time all masked as animals and dressed in brightly coloured robes. They were all involved in card games and dice games. The atmosphere in the room was convivial apart from the fact that none of them acknowledged Demetrius' violent entry. Assessing the threat, Demetrius decided there was none unless he triggered it himself. He marched straight across the room to a section of the wall where he pushed a loose stone low down near the floor and the wall swung open. Here was Darius with his followers in the newly revealed room. They were armed and ready, but Demetrius was on the warpath and would brook no delays in his vengeance.

Deciding that he needed to neutralise Darius as fast as possible, Demetrius cast Hold Person at him. Darius froze.

That was close. Darius failed the save by 1 point. Lucky that Demetrius focused the spell on Darius so that he had a penalty to save. I was tempted to try to slow down more of the baddies, but chose not to.

Demetrius then swung his mace with savage and brutal intent, and slew two of the hobgoblins that were Darius' guard. That left four more hobgoblins and a dozen human guards. The remaining guards swarmed Demetrius, who retreated to the doorway to provide some measure of cover. With Darius neutralised, he had time to deal with them all safely. He blocked the attacks of those who could reaching him and counterattacked unsuccessfully. A brief exchange of blows left no one hurt, then Demetrius attaked with renewed vigour and three of the hobgoblins fell to his blows. The extra effort nearly cost him, but he just managed to block several blows and turn those blocks into attacks that cost a hobgoblin and a Cynidicean their lives.

With the hobgoblins dead, Demetrius faced lesser opponents. Three of the humans fell swiftly to his mace and he advanced into the room. In no time at all he stood panting amid the bodies of Darius' bodyguard. Only Darius remained, still paralysed by the spell.

Demetrius could see what was to come in Darius' eyes. The hatred and the fear were clearly present, even though he could not move a muscle. Demetrius swung his mace and crushed Darius' skull. The priest of Zargon fell to the floor.

Broneslav wondered why he was standing amid the bodies of nearly two dozen people. His clothes were spattered with blood, but he had no wounds on him. Why was he carrying his mace? He was much better with a sword. And who were those people busily gambling away while carnage happened right beside them? He could remember nothing after he had picked up the white (and now very bloody) cloak that he was wearing.

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