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Gorfang and Lynien blinked as the Teleport flare died away, then glanced around themselves. The place they were in was dim, not dark, and even without their native darkvision they would have been able to see. A square central area a hundred feet across opened at each corner into a fifty-foot antechamber; heavy double doors pierced each wall of the central area in the middle. The walls were a strange, dark stone, sculpted and decorated in a style both immediately recognized as typically Fae Mhor. A strange, heavy scent tainted the air, and as they finished appearing there was a 
brief burst of sound, part atonal chime and part the chittering of spiders.
Flanking each of the doors were two massive hairy humanoids, dressed in leathers and carrying spears, which both recognized immediately as bugbears. They were just stirring from the stolid immobility of guards into a reaction to the appearance of the three teleportees.
Each of the four antechambers contained two male Fae Mhor, again just shifting from a position of waiting towards a reaction. These were unarmoured, and appeared to be spellcasters - being Fae Mhor, probably wizards. Each antechamber also contained a heavy plinth, atop which was a mass of .. something. One was a pulsing, flaring globe of fire, another a spherical rock that shifted and flowed, the third a shimmering ball of suspended fluid, and the last a patch of shifting mist.
Between them, the expiring form of 'Ghanim', now reverted to his Fae Mhor form, slithered off Lynien's rapiers and dropped to the stone flags with a faint gurgle.
As the flare of the Teleport faded, leaving the tavern shocked into silence, Eloy strode to the scene of the disappearance and picked up Gorfang's massive khopeshoi. Dropping them on a deserted table nearby, he pulled out a scroll-case and scattered its contents across the table, selecting two and jamming the others back into his bag. Drawing a jack of ale towards him, he read off the contents of a scroll of Scrying and peered into the beer, seeking for Gorfang. It occurred to him as he did so that ale was a very suitable medium for such a thing; but in practice the liquid wasn't perfect for scrying in. Where an image in water would have been clear and distinct, this was fuzzy and a little blurred, but it was good enough to make out the orc, standing in a dark chamber with a dying Fae Mhor at his feet. The picture widened to show most of the area, with the notable exception of Lynien. Eloy took a few moments to slip on his invisibility ring and cast a couple of his increasing stock of spells, and to tuck Gorfang's weapons into his Bag of Holding. Then, picking up his second scroll, he hurriedly read off its' contents, and cast a Teleport of his own. His first cast failed, his hand catching on his armour as he made the requisite gestures, and he had to unpack a second scroll and try again. This time the magic flowed, and he vanished from Nasirolan.
 DM Note: Yes, an element of +1 Fudge of Cheesyness here, but a split party at this level is no fun, it can mean a wasted session for people. Plus, word of truth, the teleport divert was written into this encounter from the beginning. Honest! |
As he went through the transition, he felt a strange sensation; like a change of direction in a journey that had no direction. Something had interfered with the Teleportation, and he was not going to arrive where he had intended.
A moment later, he was standing in a small, dim, stone-walled room, no more than ten feet a side, with a strange sound combining a chime and some spider noises in his ears. There was no-one there, and the firmly closed door ahead of him looked unpleasantly like one that would grace a prison cell. Heavy footsteps were approaching outside.
Not quite what he'd had in mind...
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As 'Ghanim' fell, Gorfang reached over and siezed the hilt of the dark elf's long sword, letting the falling body pull the scabbard off the blade. Reaching over his shoulder, he pulled a sword from his Handy Haversack, wincing slightly as he did so; this weapon was not intended for such as he to use, and it resisted him constantly. Spurred by a command from the Fae Mhor, the bugbears began to lope towards the pair; from behind them the sound of spells being cast could be heard. Swiftly Gorfang jammed each sword into his Scabbard of Keen Edges and withdrew it, the edges now glitteringly sharp. Lynien's hands blurred across the slumped form of their former pursuer, and a number of small and possibly valuable objects vanished into her pockets. Then she straightened commandingly and held out her hand towards the Fae Mhor and bugbears. "Halt, scum!" she cried in perfect, fluent and scornful Fae Mhor,
For a moment, the bugbears halted, confused, and the wizards flinched almost as if whipped at her words. Then their instinctive reaction was countermanded by their eyes telling them that the speaker was manifestly not a Fae Mhor woman. Their expressions shifted into outrage and anger that an inferior surface dweller should sully their language - worst of all, using the feminine imperative tense, reserved for the dominant females of the Fae Mhor race! One raised a hand. "Get them!" he cried in his own language. Gorfang grinned. "Button it, bastard, you're next!" he snarled as the bugbears charged in.
The door to Eloy's cell banged open, revealing four bugbears armed with long polearms, half poleaxe and half spear, smeared with some kind of dark substance. They seemed taken aback to discover no-one in the cell, and began prodding around with their weapons, one remaining in the doorway. Stealthily, Eloy slipped off his Protection ring and slid on his Ring of Flying. Then he lifted off the floor to hover near the ceiling as the hairy monsters passed below him, prodding at the corners suspciously. Finally they gathered near the door, arguing as to whether to go and call a 'master' to investigate, or to accept that the alarm had malfunctioned. Finally, they left the cell, slammed and locked the door, and walked away.
Still airborne, Eloy cast a Dimension Door and flipped himself into the corridor outside his cell, without having to pick the lock or leave any evidence. Rather to his surprise, the passage was deserted; the bugbears must have decided that it had been a false alarm after all. He dropped to the floor and moved up the corridor.
A little dim illumination was provided by small glowing crystals embedded in the wall - often liberally , and it was enough for the human interloper to see the doors let into the walls as he passed. All were secured, and he listened at some, hearing vaguely animal sounds from the right-hand side and faint conversation on the left. Some instinct suggested to him that these were a distraction, and he pressed on down the hallway, finally coming to a large set of double doors at the end of the corridor. He sneaked up to these, and pressed an ear to them. From the other side he could hear the clamour of battle, the zip and crack of combat spellcasting, and the unmistakable deep, grim laughter of Gorfang relishing in mayhem - a sound he often speculated might be the last he ever heard.
Laying hold of the handles of the two doors, he heaved them open and stepped through.
As Gorfang braced himself to meet the oncoming bugbears, Lynien slipped on Maedar's Ring and vanished from everyone's view, heading up the room towards the antechamber that seemed to be dedicated to the element of water. Gorfang whirled the two mismatched longswords up to the guard, and smashed into the converged bugbears. In a blurring green whirlwind of motion, he smashed around the circle of guards, slashing, stabbing, tearing and striking. In less than ten seconds, he had accounted for all eight of them, creating a bloody heap of bodies, limbs and dropped weapons.
Lynien reached the nearest of the Fae Mhor wizards and circled around him. Even had she not been invisible, he would have had no chance of spotting her. Once behind, she chose her spot and struck. The blow was partially deflected, in the same way as the blows struck at 'Ghanim' had been, but not completely and not enough. The rapier drove in under the base of his skull in a shower of sparks, and the wizard dropped bonelessly.
Around the perimeter, the wizards gathered their magical energies and launched a wide assortment of spells - all at Gorfang, as Lynien wasn't visible. He felt a momentary stiffening of his limbs, probably a failed Hold Person, a Lightning Bolt blazed around him and two seperate Power Word/Stuns bounced firmly off his native orcish bloody-mindedness. Finally a Mordenkainen's Disjunction undid all the good work his Scabbard had done. Around him, the four elementals were closing in. 
Swinging around, Gorfang charged across the room towards the corner apparently dedicated to Air, delivering a smashing blow to drop one of the two wizards occupying it. The other, face suddenly grey with panic, slapped up a Wall of Force to block the orc from reaching him, and stood panting as Gorfang glared at him. The Master of Weapons spun, and ran back across the room, dodging between the elementals to a clear space amongst the slaughtered bugbears - but in full view of the surviving spellcasters. As they gleefully began to ready spells, his thick fingers dipped into a pouch and he swapped one of his magical rings for a different one.
Lynien, still undetected, slaughtered the second hydromancer in a shower of sparks, and then loped across the room towards the geomancers in the Earth corner. Her pace was casual, but the Sandals of her patron sent her speeding across faster than anyone else in the room could have moved. Again, she struck as soon as she arrived, but this time, the eldritch shielding of these Fae Mhor deflected most of her blow.
All around the room, the wizards released their spells, all aimed at Gorfang, who stood unconcerned, a smug grin on his bestial face. With a blaze of scintilating energy, the magics struck - and bounced! Deflected by the Ring of Spell Turning that Gorfang had donned, the spells rebounded against their casters amid screams and horrid oaths from the dark elves. One was drilled several times over by his own Flame Arrows; another sagged as his Ray of Exhaustion drained his own energy. A third froze forever in an attitude of horror as his Flesh to Stone spell petrified him into a lifeless statue. Alone of the wizards, the two pyromancers declined to attack the orc, opting instead to raise a Wall of Fire between him and themselves to keep him from reaching them.
As first of the elementals reached Gorfang (Water and Earth moving rather slower), he sprang upon the fire spirit, hacking with his borrowed weapons. Each strike took him within the burning aura of the elemental, and his tattered clothes began to smoulder, but he was moving too fast to burn. Physical weapons couldn't really harm the primal elemental stuff of the foe he faced, but the magical forces holding it together into a coherent humanoid shape could be, and soon he stood ankle deep in guttering flame as the elemental spirit of fire was hurled from its' material form back to the Elemental Plane of Fire, engaging with the air elemental as the other two closed in.
Remembering something, Lynien felt in her bag and pulled out a scroll of Dismissal. As the lumbering form of the earth elemental stomped past her, she read it off, trying to send its' animating spirit back to it's place of origin. The magic proved inadequate to the task, however, and the creature walked on unconcerned.
At that moment, the double doors to the left of where the pair had appeared crashed open. To all eyes except Lynien and Gorfang's, nothing was there, but the Robes of Eyes showed them that Eloy had managed to catch up with them. The Man in the Shadows grinned jauntily, hefting Gorfang's khopeshoi in one hand. "I've come to save your lives!" he called cheerfully, and swivelled to release a blast from his wand of Ice Storm at the two pyromancers to his right. The blast of freezing magic tore through the Wall of Fire but failed to overcome the magic resistance of one of the wizards. The other dropped to his knees as chunks of ice pounded him from above, his spell fizzling out as he did so.
The battle seemed a foregone conclusion - but at that moment, the doors ahead of the arrival point also crashed open, and more bugbear guards began to flood through. Male Fae Mhor armoured in mail and with drawn swords could be seen behind them, and the sounds of spells being cast - by female voices - from behind that, suggesting that priestesses - the big guns - had arrived. Lynien paused to await developments; but Eloy dipped hefted his Wand of Ice Storm, preparing to unleash it once more....
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