House of the Beast: LoF Session XXII
The party, taking rest in the alcove of the wish room, is awakened by Glarth. The alarm spell has been triggered. Stiring themselves awake the party is faced by two gnolls along with two ghastly gnolls of a large variety, who stood with a look of stupor upon their faces. “The Carrion King desires your presence. Come.”
Hearing his words, the group look at eachother, baffled. “The carrion king is dead. There is no Carrion King.”
“There will always be a Carrion King. You are to come with us” As the gnoll turns to leave. The party has had enough and attacks. Quickly dispatching the messengers and their oafish pets. They were large, to be sure, but clever? Not so much. It become apparent, after a moment of investigation that these large brutes had been volunteers for a fiendish procedure. They had been of the unchosen. Willing victims who had elected to have parts of their brain removed to better serve their dark god.
Assessing their dispatched quarry and realizing their trial may not yet be over, the party begins to ascend the stairs, walking carefully up the stairs they are met with an unfamiliar beauty. The sent of flowers and perfumes wafts through the air, enticing them onward. But something is amiss. Where were these scents coming from? The ghastly pile of bodies amassed upstairs? As the gnomes suspicion grows, he reaches out with his will toward the smells and is met by the unpleasant truth. It is an illusion. Cautioning the members of the party, they continue onward, only to see that it is not only the air which has changed, but the entirety of the throne room has seemingly been remade. Lavish silks, sparkling jewels, the former horror is a decadent cascade of welcoming comfort.
Instead of finding gnolls and beasts of dark gods, they are confronted by golems and guards… and a clapping Zafiid. They have been pawns, it would seem, in the plot of the scheming Djinn. He informs the group that they have served him well, and that he presumes they had retrieved the scroll. Attempting to out wit the ancient evil, the gnome lies attempting to pretend that they were unaware of any such scroll. Yet the craft of Zafiid, is unconquerable and his perception far outmatches Glarth’s attempt to deceive.
He tells them that the powerful scroll now belongs to him, and he will take it from them regardless of what they want, that it contains great knowledge. The wisdom of the Suleimon… the right to rule over all Djinn’s. Zafiid, attempts to convince them to hand over the scroll willingly. The line in the sand is crossed, for the gnome, when Ce-Tan attempts to make a deal with the Djinn and he erupts casting create pit under Zafiid as Suerbahn attempts to make the leap across the pit to engage the fallen Djiinn.
Zafiid, deftly moves away from the pit, grabbing Suerbahn in the same move and easily tossing him aside like a ragdoll, disappearing suddenly into thing air as the group is hasted and Khatovar jumps across the gap to engage the golems. Off to the side, while the group was verbally sparring with Zafiid stood a group of escaped slaves, one of whom stands out above the rest. Three of them are quickly slaughtered by their captors and thrown into the pit as they turn to fire arrows at Zahkmed, striking him with their volley. The strongest of the slaves sees his opportunity and dashes away, attempting to grab the sword from a fallen gnoll, taking the closest route possible, his jumps across the bodies of his fallen comrades in the pit and reaches his quarry, felling him with the recovered blade as the gnoll’s companions fall prey to a fiery explosion set off by Ce-Tan.
Suddenly the pile of rotten flesh begins to move. Bodies are sent flying as, from within the pit, erupts a giant worm of monstrous proportions. Visions of the void cascade over the minds of the party, over whelming destruction, beings of light disrupting the realm of the beast. Such ferocity of emotions overwhelm the group that nearly all are effected with an inward, unstoppable rage. A desire to destroy everything completely. A hatred for humanity. A hatred for everything.
Falling upon the group in quick form, the worm attacks and swallows Suerbahn in a single motion. Ce-Tan flies to the ceiling and Enfeebles the beast with a ray from his hands as the gnome panics and retreats at full speed across the bodies and away from the monstrous creature. Sensing the danger, Zhakmed heals the group with a burst of purity, careful to avoid healing the worm and his enemies and the Monk goes dragon style, charges the beast without fear. The battle rages. The beast strikes out as the party gives all they have. Mere moments seem like eternity. Each strike that the beast makes carries with it a fiery, piercing punishment, nearly felling several members as it spits forth its inner fury. Joining the battle, the newly freed slave assists [by doing something I can’t remember]. At the last moment, as the rage subsides, Ce-Tan, from near the door he found welded shut casts a cold empowered ball of fire. Is it sears across the room, a ball of cold power, it appears as if somehow, through favor or luck, it’s potency is made full and it finds its way straight into the maw of the worm, exploding within, killing the beastly foe.
As the worm collapses, its body melts into the floor. Leaving nothing but a single, enormous bone, shaped much like that of what one might find in the finger of a giant, burning its way slowly through the stone.