Obviously an "anger" statement and not one to be taken literally. Except that was definitely on the table and one of the many plans for the elven murderer - and when they had the opportunity, that is exactly what they had made the culprit do.
Let me tell you, for a table of guys, we were all a bit grossed out at it. I also think that the death of Fist'al and our "missing" the rest of the regular adventure was sort of a catharsis for us - and we'll be a tighter group because of it.
Our roster of people are in flux but after the next write-up I should be able to post it correctly without a problem.
Write up follows:
With our false documents in hand we went to Elvengate, a
southern entrance to Woodhelven located up against Elvenkeep. The guards there
were only nominally suspicious of us, addressing Marcus primarily and reminding
him (and the rest of us) that anything that might go wrong would be on his
head.
We were through the gate and proceeded as best we could
in a south-southeasterly direction, hoping to find the encampment Fist’al was
hiding in before he moved on. A three count of elven Dragoons rode out to us, verified
our paperwork, and seemed to be only marginally interested in the cover story
we had concocted. The party felt a bit out of place, the forest was old –
terribly old – and we knew we had to step lightly, and get out.
A number of unicorns had emerged at one point, the group
was pretty much ensorcelled by their appearance, but the equines had then moved
on. We were looking for the Shimmerstream – a major waterway in Woodhelven that
we knew from the scrying before ran very close to the encampment Fist’al was
hiding in.
It was just about 10 to 5 that we came upon it, and we
were also hailed by a figure in the forest. An elven female emerged from some
distance and questioned why we were here. Guessing her to be scout for the
encampment, we tried to draw her out in conversation but she was having none of
it. Instead she was willing to escort us around the training lands of “The
Brotherhood of the Silent Shot” and guide us on our way to Elvenkeep.
We allowed her (Celwyn) to do so, noting that she did
walk us some 500 north and then turned at a right angle and walked us some 300
west – giving the group the feeling where the encampment actually was. We also
were able to pick up faint sounds and bird calls from behind Celwyn, making us
even more aware that the Brotherhood (and maybe even Fist’al) were out there.
The jig was about up, because Fist’al would see any of us, or catch our name –
he’d most likely run.
It was here that we then turned and dove for cover, while
Auri and Mummus tackled Celwyn and finished her off before she could do
anything more than bark in surprise. Arrows filled the air as we scrambled off
our horses, the group being on the receiving end of the crazy fusillade of
feathered shafts falling about us. On the enemy side we did hear one of the
member cast a bless spell, which resulted in the arrows falling with a bit more
accuracy.
The group returned fire but the amount of trees and cover
made it difficult to get an accurate shot on either side. What we did do
though, was concentrate most of our fire on the enemy cleric, forcing him to
seek shelter and prevented him from casting spells as freely and as fast as
expected.
The group sneaked their way forward, jumping from behind
one tree and racing to the next one, bringing the fight closer and closer to
the elven contingent. Flimflam held onto his precious bottle of “Elven Control”
and was trying to get within 30’ of Fist’al – supposedly how far we had to be
for the potion to work. But in our struggle to get closer fast enough, we came
within range of one of the elven defenders who fired off a sleep spell – which
dropped Whosea and Auri – but was NOT powerful enough to also knock out
Flimflam. And our gnomish leader quaffed his potion, took control of Fist’al
and had the thief/murderer step out and shout, “Enough!”
With Flimflam controlling Fist’al we were able to sort of
allow the Brotherhood of the Silent Shot to let us go, Fist’al “volunteering”
to lead us out. We went, hoping against hope that we could far enough from the
Brotherhood as possible and NOT run across any other elven contingent in the
forest. Especially while using an extremely illegal “potion of Elven Control”.
We ticked off the minutes – knowing that we had 60 minutes of the potion to be
used before it would end.
At 20 minutes north of the Brotherhood, we had Fist’al
strip off all his armor, weaponry, and magical items, the rest of the party
quickly scooping them us and hiding them throughout the party. And then it
became gruesome and Flimflam forced Fist’al to bend himself completely over in,
swing his leg over his head…and then physically eat his own manhood from his
own body and swallow it. Even though it was something Flimflam had said he
would make Fist’al do, it was still terrible to behold; blood running down his
chin, the former thief chewing his own flesh off and swallowing it.
From here we then forced him to swallow the potion of
polymorph, turning him into a donkey. Which immediately broke the potion of
elven control since he was no longer an elf. A calm animal spell eased him up
and we dropped rope and bridle on his neck and escorted Fist’al out of the
elven forest where we entered Elvenkeep through the main gate. From here we
went to the Temple of Poseidon where the priests were thrilled to have the
murderer brought in for justice.
And their justice was a multi-tiered thing of brutality
and cruelty – rape, torture, death, healing, breaking and battering. Over 30
times Fist’al’s heart stopped beating during the 6 days of torture, the priests
continuously bringing back north of 0 hps. But it was midnight the 17th
or Workmonth, Fist’al had been broken and we were given supplies for the long
journey back to Shakun. The only thing left was the removal of Fist’al’s head
with a burning hot sword and the cauterized grisly item placed at the bottom of
a leather-lined sack filled with oats.
No comments:
Post a Comment