A Stirring Tale of Man's Triumph Over Stone

[Moltor]

Originally posted on the old forum a couple years ago...

A bold party of three ventured forth into the Barrow-Downs -- Moltor the Ranger, Betty the batted Ranger, and Ding the Rogue. For a time they progressed without noteworthy action. They then found an arena level 450 feet down. The monsters therein were slain without difficulty, but searching the entire floor revealed no staircases. Moltor was thereupon driven to madness, and challenged his party to duel to the death. Ding accepted and was quickly struck down by the Ranger's noxious magics and quick blade. Betty preferred to search for an exit. Moltor regained his nerves and helped with the search.

Time and time again they scoured every inch of the floor. The bat flew over the treed areas. A few veins of magma were ground to dust. Yet still no stairs were revealed.

Moltor frowned in thought. After poring over the level once more, he found two stretches of granite along the walls. One to the north, and a small one to the west. The stair had to be behind one of them. A hundred times he failed to phase through the north wall.

Then, at last, a ray of hope. Moltor sensed three orcs beyond the eastern edge of the wall! They would obstruct his phases, but their presence suggested the possibility of concealed stairs. He called to Betty to help him dig. The bat had apparently pffted at Moltor's systematic approach, and was randomly rechecking the interior of the level, phasing, and half-heartedly clawing at the granite. But she answered the ranger's call and began to scratch toward the orcs. Moltor drew a khopesh, the largest sword he had found, and for many minutes the two toiled with claw and steel. Moltor cursed his failure to bring a proper digging instrument. Twice they broke to slay newly spawned monsters and study the art of digging. At last the wall crumbled. The orcs were dispatched and an empty space was revealed.

Sighing, bat and elf moved a bit to the west and again set upon the wall. For much time they made no further progress. Their spirits waned and they discussed dueling or asking for aid. Escape seemed impossible but neither wished to give up after expending such effort.

Eventually help came without being asked: A Half-Orc Rogue called It headed down bearing a pick. He arrived safely and handed the tool to Moltor, who smote the wall with renewed fervor. He poked several holes in the north wall without finding a stair. Then the west wall was demolished. A single spot of granite remained to the north, but Moltor believed it was not likely to hide a stair. He tunneled through it anyway out of spite and there found the stair.

The three paused a minute to gloat then journeyed onward. Shortly afterward it came to pass that all were wiped out by a giant acid-breathing squid. Hardly a fitting end for such heroic adventurers who had toiled for hours to defeat mighty stones. But all who enter the dungeons die, and so it was with these. Let death not diminish their triumph.

[the_sandman]

!!!

[Tanis]

Classic!

[Nazgarn]

This is one of my all-time favorite stories. Going to tell my Grandchildren this. Well, if I ever have children but that's another story for another day.


Now, where's another beer?

-Naz

[Cornelius]

If only we also had a picture of a bat zapping wands at things.

[Moltor]