Assassin Convention (flash story)

This is the second of the third set of adventures of Karamus as told by an older and more bitter version of himself in a semi-journal format. These are written for fun so enjoy.

-Lucas

With the undead demon things destroyed, Bransen went over to inspect the statues that lined the room. His guess, rightfully so, was that they were people turned to stone rather than carvings. It made sense based on the level of detail but then, in his usual manner, thought it would be a great idea to set them free. What? Set free a moron who was stupid enough to get himself turned to stone to begin with? No thank you. Save your spells for us. So I’m selfish, is it really a big surprise?

With that stupidity dealt with, we moved on to the next down shaft which we determined to be too far down to climb with a rope via a sun rod. So Greyrod granted us all levitation so we could go down the shaft easier. After fifty some odd feet, we came upon a door marked OBLIVION. Jeez, oblivious don’t you think? I mean really, you don’t see a thieves guild putting a sign up their front door saying THIEVES HERE, COME AND ARREST US. The quality of evil doers these days has really begun to decline. How can they be surprised when adventurers show up at their doorstep every other day. BECAUSE YOU ADVERTISED YOU SOD!

Anyways, I got to work on the door and to my surprise; it was a masterful lock with a magical trap. Well, it was pretty easy to see that the trap was tied to a statue of a beholder with gems in the eye stalks. Once that was taken care of, I spent several seconds to unlock the door open. It was a tough door, I will have to definitely take notes on that and have one built later.

Once inside, we found some more statues of various creatures as well as two paintings, one of which was of a woman in a soul cage and she looked familiar to me. I thought for a moment and then remembered that her name was Celeste and was an associate of Kort during the whole save the splintershield mission he was on. Someone mentioned that she was actually in the painting via some magical effect. So, like the good people we are, we took her painting off the wall and stuffed it into a bag of holding. I hope she doesn’t have to breath…let’s not dwell on that.

With all of that taken care of, I moved over to the main door which had the same locking device that the previous door had. Again it took only a matter of seconds to unlock the door. When I got the door open and peered inside, I really wished I hadn’t. It was a ritual room with the big symbols, candles and sacrifices. At the center was a huge beholder and the deflated skin of Vhalantru. Creepy skin wearing freak.

It was kind of obvious that we opened the door and so when it saw me, it conjured a four-legged monster of flaming fur and acid drool to attack me. I initially went on the defensive, backing up as to let the thing through the doorway. I called out to the rest to go deal with Vhalantru as I fought the flame beast. That damn thing was tough but after nearly a minute of constant acrobatics, I finally fell the damn thing. When I got back to the door, I found it closed again. It took several tries but I finally got the damn thing open and when I got inside the room, I found everyone minus Greyroot and a dead beholder. When I asked where the mind bender had gone, they said he fled in the opening moments of the fight.

Odd, I don’t remember him leaving while I was outside the room. The nerve, to leave us hanging in the middle of such a dangerous fight. I was furious. I may make poor decisions from time to time, but to ditch people while in a fight is bad news when those people survive the fight. Careless decision… cause when people survive, they want revenge and they want it out of your hide. Never leave people alive when you can leave them for dead.

_________________________________

The old cansin set down the journal and began to shift through the drawer until he produced another book. He flipped through its pages for several moments and then nodded to himself in approval. He slipped the book into his bag and made his way out of the house and onto the streets of Sigil.

He eventually made his way back home which was as he left it. Stepping inside he found the house in disrepair, an obvious sign that someone had gone through his things. He walked over to his den which was in the same state as the main room. The cansin began cursing as he tried to clean up a bit so he could sit in his old leather chair.

Once seated, he pulled the book from his bag and opened it up and began reading over his next series of journal entries.

_________________________________

The next day we awoke in the chamber where we had fought the beholder that was quickly becoming a rotting corpse. In his usual annoying happy way, Bransen said that he had breakfast for us and through his magic, produced a feast of food. I guess he can be usual from time to time. We ate, we drank and just as I was getting comfortable, that sodding mind bender decided now would be a good time to talk to me in my head.

He was checking on me to see if I lived through the fight. I gave him a piece of my mind for ditching me in a fight. And so, instead of making him cry and flee like I had hoped, he decided to teleport back into the room to talk with the group. Sigh. Why do the planes hate me so?

So we talked, Jarvyk and I agreed on something for once and probably last time that what Greybird did was inexcusable. I didn’t want anything more to do with the freak but the rest of the group was willing to forgive. So with all of that nonsense done, it was time to get the hell out of the room and do some more exploring of the dungeon we were in. It took some time but I managed to get pass the locked doors and traps with only a few bruises. With our fly spells in place, we moved into the shaft that led up to the exit and down into the depths of the dungeon. It was at that point that a sickly green ray came raining down from above and killed Ashton instantly, his body floating down to the bottom of the shaft. Oh well.

Apparently the assassination attempts have begun and we had spellcasters as the first dish. Jarvyk and I flew up and engaged the casters in melee combat which thankfully, is not their area of expertise. Their deaths were satisfying as they sank down to the bottom of the shaft. With the fight completed, we collected Ashton’s body and decided it would be best to speed our way to the church to ask Jenya if she could resurrect Ashton. Greyhawk said he could go to the house and we told him that it wasn’t a good idea since the assassins would obviously be there. So where did the moron send us? To the house of course. And who was waiting for us when we appeared in the house? The assassins. I swear to the gods the and Lady herself that when this is all said and done I will shove that arrogant self-centered brain right up his ass if we live through this.

Naturally we ended up in another fight and for the second time today without Ashton. It sucks. I never realized how much he brings to a fight. Huh, did I just think that? Remind myself to slap myself later. Anyhow, they were dwarves this time and we spanked them all the way back to the mines. With that settled, we hastily made our way to the temple, perhaps a little hastily as we got spotted by some of the half orc mercenaries that were patrolling the city, no doubt looking for us. A quick run through the alleyways of the city and the half orcs lost the trail. They must be all muscle and no brain.

We met with Jenya who, being the prepared one, was ready to raise the dead as soon as we walked in the door. Considering that had been happening in the past few days, I’m wouldn’t be surprised either. She cast the ritual and brought Ashton back who was quiet disoriented at the whole situation. It was then, naturally, that the next group of assassinations came crashing into the temple. Ah, more people to kill and it isn’t even lunch time yet.

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