Paldemar and His Minions

Heart-in-throat, Quorbins notches an arrow. His companions nervously cast their eyes about, readying. The silence after the gonging seemed profoundly stretched out. The corridor suddenly stuffy, the air inert. Then, from far off to the north, the sound of heavy racing footsteps approach. Something large and fast turns the far corner and closes in. Rapidly. Quorbin quickly lets loose at the shiny blur, badly judging the distance, two arrows bounce off armor. It is a bronze warder, the roaming mechanical minotaur guardians of the place. Casval seemed to falter as well, because before he could act, the behemoth closes the distance tossing Quorbin, Garrosh, Yshven and the mage aside in its path, the construct whirls its heavy axe and all at once, the party suffers grievous wounds.

Prone and wounded, Quorbin sees a door behind them open. A hooded figure appears at the doorway, eyes burning with inner fire crackling with eldritch energy, he intones, “ So, the havock-wreakers in my tower! Pay the price for your intrusion!” He raises a rune-covered staff which erupt in blinding electrical bolts. Kurgan and Casval are hit. Kurgan is barely saved by the magic of his armor, unlike Casval who drops limply in a heap. With that, Paldemar closes the door, his laughter still ringing in the hallway.

~ by Carlo on November 5, 2009.