Links to other sites on the Web5. THE DUNGEON MASTER: The gurgling screams and Hellstorm cacophony are so omnipresent and omnipotent that they cause a suicide of sound, and it is in snowy silence that the Larval Soul finishes sending ages of agony and aeons of anguish against the once-Paladin, erasing her from existence.
Logan a.k.a. Wolverine is able to draw upon his immense will power to avoid insanity, and thus rather in the face of this incredible evil experiences a detached and omniscient revelation. He is as an advanced civilization, having fought valiantly to attain power amidst the oppressive infinity, yet having fought more valiantly to keep such power from corrupting them. Now, as an advanced civilization, to achieve absolute evolution, they must avoid being destroyed.
The Larval Soul regenerates 1 Hit Point, restoring it to maximum power. (Apparently the Sub-Fiend was wounded when you first encountered it.)
The Paladin Slayer, perhaps because he is the least sensitive to evil's influence, is the first to act. Figuring he has little to lose, the Anti-Paladin empties 28 rounds from his fully-automatic machine gun into the sub-fiend. All are close enough to hit automatically, and together they inflict 69 hit points of damage!
The Larval Soul takes it without so much as flinching.
The Wood Elven Ranger Farian Shadowstorm knows that he must assail this being from beyond space and time, yet he knows also that even to gaze upon it would be to lose his sanity. Thus, he fires his colt blindly into the infernal creation.
Yet his bullet never reaches its target.
Instead, the Ranger hears a sharp shattering sound as his projectile smashes into Logan's steel plate armor-encased back, dealing 13 hit points of damage to him, and spews shards of shrapnel in all directions, inflicting 3 hit points of damage to Anuril and tearing open her side, 4 hit points of damage to Life Force and rending his left thigh so that his broken bone pokes through his steel armor, and hitting the Ranger Farian himself for 9 hit points of damage and with such concussive force that the searing steel severs the spine in his neck, causing him to fall limply to the floor, totally numb. He must move his head with his tongue to avoid choking to death on the blood of Life Force and the vomit of Anuril.
Steeling himself, the unarmed Paladin Enolc Det wields his angelic soul against the infernal Larval Soul. What force in the universe can the holy warrior possibly use to fight such a fiend? He has experienced a romance of celestial perfection, which brought reality to his purest fantasy, if only for a brief instant. Now he must wield it as one would wield an exploding star.
"Larval Soul....fiend from the Pit....begone! I Turn you!"
{And he rolls a natural 1. -The Dungeon Master (TDM).} The holy knight shudders in silent agony as torrents of torment and cosmic insanity surge against him. The Larval Soul is unwavering.
Manji, his eyes still tightly shut, is too distant from the fiend to strike an immediate blow, and elects not to risk cutting through his comrades in an attempt to attack.
Savanna tries to draw forth her mental power to keep the beast from her, but such is the atmosphere of insanity now in these chambers that she cannot even begin to summon her energies.
The more-experienced White Wolf knows however that he must act, and that the sub-fiend must be stopped, no matter the cost. He raises his spiked steel-clad hand to his chest and says: "There is no use in all of us dying here, not when our quest has just begun." He says this mostly to himself, but he says it loudly enough for everyone else to hear. Striding forward with his white-bladed lightsaber drawn and his mind ready to cast powerful magics, the ArchMagus adds: "Especially you, Valhalla. Those who survive are going to need their leader." Then, without so much as a flinch and with a look of pure hatred the White Wolf lunges forward into the writhing chasm of molten flesh riding a phoenix aura of crimson-and-sun flame.
The burning orb engulfs the fiend as a minute star, emitting a fireclap the sound that you imagine one might make as it goes nova. As the intense sulphorous odour fills his nostrils, Logan actually finds himself smiling as he thinks:
"If this doesn't stop it, nothing will!"
The Fireball briefly but brightly illuminates the dark abyssal catacomb and inflicts 21 hit points of damage. When at last the smoke has cleared, those of you with your eyes open are able to gaze upon the remains of the Larval Soul.
It isn't even dented.
"Fall back!" cries Life Force, who is heard almost clearly as Farian's gunshot explosion and the White Wolf's fireclap appear to have actually helped restore your hearing. He was unable to fully break the image of his comrades falling before him at first, yet thinking of the others who still draw breath he shouts, and risks drawing the attention of the Larval Soul.
Then suddenly the Neophyte Paladin notices Logan's magical attire; a pendant portraying a silver girl wrapped up to her shoulders in a golden whirlwind; the Princess Michele's Chaos Wind Necklace hanging around his neck! With another hurried shout he screams "Logan! Use the Chaos Wind Necklace! It's our only chance!"
Michele's Chaos Wind.... Logan drops his dark lightsaber as his hand flies to his throat and the Necklace to be found there. Yet the black blade of his abandoned weapon does not retract when he releases its handle, nor does it do so when it hits the floor of the catacomb. Instead it simply lies there, useless and dangerous. Could it be that the insanity of Labyrinthus affects technology as well? The White Wolf, still drained from the exertion of his fiery assault, remains squatting in a puddle of unrecognizeable anti-protoplasm which mere seconds ago was the Paladin Marissa, directly below the blood-drooling mouth of the vaguely-humyn face of the Larval Soul. Yet he does not stay in this position for long. Having clearly removed the threat of Marissa, the sub-fiend now at last elects to direct its attacks elsewhere, and the first such attack is sent down hard upon the Arch-Magus' neck. An audible snap is heard as the fiendish tentacle easily breaks the spine located there, inflicting 4 hit points of damage and causing the bone nearest the White Wolf's skull to rip effortlessly through the flesh and skin at the back of his neck, spraying an arc of blood far enough to spatter scarlet tears upon the armor of Dame Valhalla Geode.
"To hell with this!" cries the man in black. Acting too swiftly to realize the irony of his words, he moves his arms around Eno and fires off two rounds from each of his twin desert eagles. All four bullets impact with the Larval Soul, inflicting 18 hit points of damage. However, the Larval Soul lives still.
It responds by extending the dripping ebony tentacle from its mouth to the base of his spine and snapping said vertebrae like a bleached desert twig. Bone tears through the flesh and skin of the man in black's back, and 'Morpheus' falls, though he has been dealt only 1 hit point of damage.
The elven maiden Zephyr stands in shock, facing away from the sub-fiend and keeping her hands over her eyes. "What in Hell is this thing?" she enquires. Not receiving an instantaneous reply, she comes to the swift conclusion: "We have to get out of here while we are still able." While staying as calm and collected as possible on the outside, Zephyr is finding fear and panic to be becoming too powerful to control. Though she despises the idea of running away it seems to be the only sane course of action, for she knows not that all passages behind fall dead to ends of cruel stone. It matters not, however, as she also finds that she can no longer move.
Though horribly wounded, Anuril still possesses enough wisdom not to gaze upon the sub-infernal, and she covers her eyes with her hands as she gathers what strength she has left to deliver one last message. "Logan!" the elven maiden half-shouts and half-gasps, "Use Princess Michelle's Chaos Wind before we all die!" She then collapses completely and resumes bleeding to death.
Ice the Necromancer tries to identify the fiend he fights, but he dares not open his eyes for fear of being driven insane. The sound and scent and slime of the Abyssal beast can provide only limited information, but he is fairly certain that it is a Larva, a Lemure, a Manes, or perhaps all three; the least of Hell's minions. Blindly he lets fly an arrow, which hits Logan in the back for 6 hit points of damage before dissolving from a single sprayed droplet of the Larval Soul's slime.
Tim the Enchanter, wanderer between worlds at war, thinks to himself in a haze of insane realization. "This demon is too powerful for us. Our strength means nothing against it.... This truly is Hell.... we have no hope of victory...."
Then, somewhere in the infinite universe, perhaps upon a planet newly embracing the dawn of life, thunder peals. Lying on the floor in the fetal position, Tim the Mana Mage feels as though he himself is newly born. Electricity sparks at his hands, and as his robe is illuminated by the minute lightning the Wizard realizes that his eyes are open in the labyrinthine darkness. He thinks to himself: "Wait...this thing...it seems to use our fears against us...we give up before we even try to fight.... We must stand against it or all will be lost!" Lightning now crackling visibly around him, the magus rises and says: "No. I will not die in Hell!" Closing his eyes before his gaze can fall upon the twisted abyssal, Tim the Enchanter whispers, though to noone in particular. "I am not going to remain in Hell for eternity.... I will not surrender. I will fight to the end...win or lose!" Using his own wracked nerves as a sixth sense to guide his magical bolt to the center of the source of all his suffering, Tim lets fly a streak of indigo magical energy which strikes the sub-fiend for 8 hit points of damage.
The beast responds by flicking a drop of its acidic slime on Tim, searing him for 1 hit point of damage.
"None of this is enough." thinks Logan the Paladin. "I must use Michelle's Chaos Wind!" Gripping the pendant part of the Necklace, the mutant Jedi master is aware that this is the last and only time he can wield the Wind, but he is also aware that if he fails to wield it now, he may well never be able to do so in the future. "I call upon the greatest magic of the time when magic was greatest!" As the Paladin focuses his mind, he begins to receive a swirling, continuously-flowing vision of the Quest of the Infinite Sky. The eye of his mind and soul gazes upon the crystalline alien catacomb of the Moon Dream Reaper and the Balrog toppled and slain by the Wind of legend around the Paladin's neck....the space travel required to reach it....red moon and snowy world....the serpents and deities....the tower of Grimhold and cavern of Fear....the Orb of Evil....the keeps of otherworldly princesses....that's it!!!....Keep riding the sun-drenched stream....sail on endless azure until you find....standing o'er emerald hills....the castle dusted in the sands of time....Dragon Wing! Dragon Wing castle, home of Princess Michelle! "Your highness, though we Valarkians may have been foolish and selfish at first, all we really want to do is be the heroes you hoped we would be, and save the world! Will you aid a Paladin once more?"
In response comes forth a rumbling, echoing growl followed by the thought of the Valarkian Kevin: "Let's see if this works!"
The growl is in fact that of an omega hurricane capable of tearing apart planets. It echoes out of the Paladin and against the Larval Soul with epic force, the resulting cosmic tornado buffeting the sub-fiend into a writhing mass of flesh, slime, and blood. All sound is again slain. When at last the Wind has passed, the only death throes the harrowed beast can offer are the minor twitchings of a few tentacles.
Then, like the dust of a crumbled city, it rises.
The Larval Soul immediately plunges one of its giant tail pincers into the White Wolf's broken body, inflicting 5 hit points of damage. It follows up this attack by entwining one of its tentacles around Dame Valhalla Geode's left forearm and using its right semi-skeletal hand to yank off the maiden Paladin's horned great helm. The sub-fiend's tentacle secretes no slime, however, as it seems to seek to devour this damsel in its maw. The Holy Warrior turns to you. Her long chestnut hair has curled somewhat from her sweat, and her brown eyes contain a sorrow that seems to have remained infinite for eons. She says this alone:
The Larval Soul releases its grip and recoils as the Paladin's Holy Sword Frost's Brand rises from the floor of the catacomb and hovers in midair, telepathically controlled by Valhalla's will. The entire weapon shines brightly with a pale blue snowy aura of intense ice, and flames of frost billow up from it to dissipate into infinity. Then the sword surges forth to strike the Soul, and the universe as you know it ends.
For the third time all is silent. The flash of light that now fills the cosmic catacomb could be from trillions of stars being born and dying simultaneously, yet your eyes register no pain; only brilliance.
Then come the locusts.
Their thoraxes are armored as with burnished gold plate. Their abdomens are like girded, yet with stinging tails as those of a wyvern. Their faces are as those of the Larval Soul: humynlike, with long hair and the teeth of a dragon.
You know not how many hundreds make up their multitude, but the wingbeats are as the pounding hooves of all the horses in all the battles in all of time as the creatures crawl in a cosmic swarm from the sub-fiend's husk of melting skin and cover your mortal bodies. The only sound you can hear over them is the maniacal cackling of Abadon.
Just before the Hell locusts chew through your eyelids there is another radiant flash, and they are gone. You open your eyes and witness with healing horror as the Holy Sword flies blade-first into the heart of the Paladin Valhalla Geode. When it has disappeared completely into the maiden Paladin's chest, from her back sprout two huge feathery wings of pure frost. They glisten and glow in the darkness, and in an instant they too dissolve away into absolute nothing. The last thing you see before darkness claims all is the elegant form of the Paladin fall.
"Beings believe they are powerless to change things,
And that things cannot *be* changed.
Such apathy has led to the death of countless planets and realities
As the fiends' dreams have thus been unfurled.
You must now aid the last one.
Choose Light, Earth, Fire, Wind, Water, or Dark, to gain the Serpent Seeds of Creation.
Learn what you can in Labyrinthus, from Labyrinthus, and go forth
And save the world!"
The voice sounds somewhat like that of Valhalla, yet it is deeper and more resounding, like that of a Solar angel. {Like the first one from Baldur's Gate II: Throne of Bhaal. Has anyone played it? I love that game! My 16th-Level Paladin once defeated a Pit Fiend in single combat on the INSANE difficulty level! Ahem. Well, anyway.... -TDM.}
When the voice at last fades away, 24 times Ten to the Fiftieth Power hit points of damage have been dealt, and the sub-fiend also known as the Larval Soul has been slain. Each character receives 133 Experience Points.
The absolute and supreme darkness continues on relentlessly for what as far as you know could be minutes or millennia. Then finally there is a new dawn as the light in the catacomb gradually begins to be restored. Life Force the Paladin finds his sword in the receding gloom and rises to his feet, for his shattered bone has set itself and his wounds have been healed. Holding his chosen weapon aloft, the holy knight says: "By the Prism Angel of Dragon Wing! Such power!" Life Force reaches Level 2!
SOMEONE FINALLY REACHED LEVEL 2!!!!!!!
The Paladin's hit point maximum is now 16. His To Hit Armor Class Zero (THAC0) amount is now 17. Additionally, Life Force can restore 4 hit points of damage per day with his Lay On Hands healing ability.
The incredible shock underwent by the Ranger Farian Shadowstorm has at last subsided, and he, as with the rest of you, has been restored to full health. Breathing heavily, the wood elf rises to a standing position and says:
"Okay, that guy's joining the RoboOgre and a certain little Black Dragon named Hakara on the list of things I hate!" He needs exactly one more experience point to Level Up!
I award Farian Shadowstorm 1 Experience Point for putting up with dying so many times.
Farian Shadowstorm reaches Level 2!
The Ranger's hit point maximum is now 18. His THAC0 is now 19. Additionally, his Hide in Shadows ability has risen to 15 %, and his Move Silently ability has risen to 21 %. Furthermore, Farian doesn't even want to think about what he is going to have to go through to reach Level 3!
"Well, now that we've defeated a Pit Fiend," says Tim the Enchanter hopefully, yet in a tone of voice that tells you he does not fully believe his words, "we shouldn't have any trouble defeating the *rest* of Hell's forces."
"Uh, there aren't even any Pit Fiends in the First Plane of Hell." replies the Paladin Eno. "The closest thing to a Pit Fiend in Avernus is...."
Suddenly you hear a deep-throated, fiendish cackle coming from right behind you.
"Just kidding!"
As you turn around you come face-to-face with the source of the hellish mirth: the Necromancer Ice. "Oooh boy!" he gasps in between gales of whooping laughter. "You should've seen the look on your faces! You were ready to wet your skirts some more!"
"Well, guess who survived!" says Life Force in response. "Lucky us!"
"Anyway," continues Eno the holy knight, "the closest thing to a Pit Fiend in Avernus is Tiamat herself! And we have a lot of very significant Labyrinthus to traverse before we can reach....oh...."
The Paladin has just noticed the chamber's only source of light: the holy sword of Fallen Frost wielded by Dame Valhalla Geode. Lying next to it, right arm outstretched yet just out of reach of the blade, is the Paladin herself. Logan a.k.a. Wolverine, who has only just now had his power at last increased to the point where he possesses more Hit Points than any of the Valarkian Wanderers from the Quest of the Infinite Sky, staggers over and peers down upon the lifeless maiden. Her eyes are closed, her lips are sealed, and it is as if her Holy Sword has frozen her alabaster complexion into an ice sculpture of eternal perfection.
"Greater love hath noone," whispers Enolc Det, "than she who would lay down her life...."
"Yeah, you Paladins are dropping like flies." contributes Paladin Slayer. "At this rate I'll soon be out of a job." The Anti-Paladin looks down upon Valhalla contemptuously. "A 24-year-old virgin: a waste of a humyn being."
"Must you defile every moment?" Eno glares at him, Solar fire in his eyes.
"'Dame' Valhalla Geode was a naive fool who lived to see her quest fail and died an unknown in the one town she had gained even minute fame in." replies the Paladin Slayer. "And her virginity is no asset to her. I am a Tech-User who envisions a world where sex is everywhere; where all thoughts can be linked to the sexual, and where 'purity' is looked upon with disgust. This world *will* come. And when it does, I will have won."
"You will never win," the Paladin fires back, "so long as souls like hers exist!"
"In case you haven't noticed, she's dead."
"Virginity is not the only purity." states Logan wisely, assisting Eno's argument.
The Sword releases light like a winter's dawn. Was it really a late spring azure morn when you left the mortal realm only hours ago? Or have millennia dusked since that time on that world lost somewhere in the depths of space? The first fiend's madness-inducing visage seems to have shocked you into more sanity than you ever had before, for you are at last fully aware that seasons, ages, and even time itself no longer have any meaning; not here in Avernal Labyrinthus. Indeed, very little seems to have any meaning any more.
Still kneeling before Valhalla, Eno the Paladin moves closer to her magic sword. "Frozen Tears....Fallen Frost....Womb of Life...." he begins, "...this sword has had many names, for it is truly no mere Frost Brand, but rather a Holy Avenger! Now that the one it was meant for is gone, who among us will take it up, wield it, and embrace its frigid destiny?"
{Well, there you go, another ultra-long playing turn (it wasn't going to be this long originally, but I was at the time unaware that the dice would fall so badly for you). Fortunately, you were all able to survive anyway (at the expense of one of my favorite NPCs of all time, Dame Valhalla Geode), but there are some things I would like you to do before sending your response:
-It is imperative that each of you selecct the element (Light, Earth, Fire, Wind, Water, or Darkness) that best befits you (as a player, not your character) as soon as possible. Please do not select more than one, as that would be unfair to the other players.
-Also, Farian must select a species enemmy with his next response (might I suggest a type of undead or fiend?) so that he may make use of his special Ranger bonuses. Anyone else playing a Ranger should do the same if they have not done so already. Possible species enemies (which you might encounter in Labyrinthus) include skeletons, zombies, ghouls, ghasts, mummies, wights, wraiths, spectres, ghosts, shadows, vampires, liches, and yes, Larval Souls.
Oh, and by the way, the first ever Serpents & Sorcery video game is now in the works! To visit its site, go to this address: http://www.angelfire.com/goth/sirtedbootslugs/dragonwing.html To see how its resolution fares, check out http://www.angelfire.com/goth/sirtedbootslugs/BlackDragAngelvsBlackDragAngel.jpg
Thanks! -The Dungeon Master.}
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