With each passing day, the death toll slowly rises. Mayhem slowly tightens its vice grip on the formerly serene town of Rochon. News of a suspicious death reached the ears of our fair adventurers and curiosity carried them to the scene of a potential homicide. The probably charismatic bard to the noble found by the river. She was dead, but not slain. A canteen discovered by the newly promoted sheriff reeks of poison and more so of foul play. Who would assassinate an unassuming minstrel by the choked river?
The shadow of chaos was creeping like the mist of a hundred cauldrons. Another attack was surely due within hours. Thora’xx and Endrick take flight upon the mighty Glidewing to establish the rings of influence the hidden Beholders possess over the town. From their vantage point, the duo spot Wessen sulking beyond city limits. Through diplomatic reasoning (i.e fully enforceable threats made by the war dwarf), Wessen was coaxed back into town where he could be kept under supervision in the vaults of Town Hall.
Of course, the doors to Town Hall were locked tight. A locked door, the sworn enemy of our heroic motley crue, was to be breached by any means necessary. First means were by MANtis. Thora’xx Kitty Pride’d through the barrier and brought awe to the cowering mayor who physically desisted that Thora’xx not unburden the door. Thankfully, Mantis men have four arms; two for moving boxes and two for holding down frantic mayors. Sensing that this could take a while, the steampunk cyborg sidestepped the laws of physics and Kramer’d his way in. This did not sit well with the Mayor. With a stoic hoofstomp and a whimsical whinny, the Dwarf hero materialized within the living room sized hall. The Mayor thought to himself “Either I am tripping more than a slinky in an M.C Escher painting, or I am losing my Gods damned mind”. Once the door finally swung opened, the ghastly silhouette of Aldrick’s addax horns was enough to lower Mayor’s HP to zero, causing him to faint.Once inside, the group found a vault for Wessen’s containment. A guard was instructed to give Wessen a sleep potion just as the sun dims and to keep the outside of the vault locked. With at least one werewolf kept in check, haste was made to the Iced Mines.
The only thing more offensive than a locked door is an obstructed entrance. The entrance to the mine was corked with the last drippings of Mr. Freeze’s ice gun, but was no match for a stick of dynamite and a god damn war hero.
Though Yip’s disguise was thorough, the Ice Gargoyles guarding a massive door were in no mood to speak. If they did, they would probably say something about not merely walking through the door. Though very handsy, the defenders were clawing above their weightclass and were left ice cubes.
The next room reveled a key waiting for someone to just pick it up. Little to the knowledge of the quintet, Frosty Owlbears are notoriously obsessed with guarding keys. Thus, a beat down was initiated. A swing of a scimitar, slice of a dazzling dagger, and a damning smash of a dwarven war hammer was enough to silence the beast. Only an frozen door stands between the adventurers and final boss.
A Beholder of Frost levitates, affixing its numerous (three) eyes upon the battlesmiths. I have feasted on many things before, the Beholder thought, but never have I tasted Mantis! Nor robot. How Am I supposed to digest that? While entertaining these thoughts, an unholy straight up smack down was fast tracking the beast to its demise. Through aggressive tact, the Beholder met the smite and might of a perturbed Mantis Man (last hit lols).
Behind every great monster is an even greater stash of loot. In this instance, the loot was a gotdamn Giant Mimic. Though it thought it were bad, it was up against real O.G, real thugginz, the real mofos with real grit. Naturally, the busta eats it like its closing time at the curbstomp buffet. Among the treasure the Mimic left behind was a Time Crystal Fragment. Nameless carefully tries to stash the Fragment into his pouch, but once it leaves his ethereal Mage’s Hand and touches his pocket, he is suspended in time for six seconds.
With the Beholder banished, it’s cold doomgrip is lifted and order is restored to this region of Rochon. Finally, order may begin to combat the chaos that has marched across the quiet town. But the group are not cats. They cannot bask in the light nor of comfort despite their accomplishment. Lo, night cloaks Rochon in danger. A shriek bellows from the once peaceful town. Before pursuit can be made, everyone is enveloped in light and deposited three days into the past. Though one Beholder and its effects are gone, numerous threats are still very present.
What will they do now?