With a cast of ‘Turn Stone to Mud‘ Embor enters the main room.
Ever alert, the lair Wolves ‘C‘ bust down an unseen door and are loosed.
The pack hunters crowd together before Embor and become a prime target for the AoE spell ‘Stinking Cloud‘ from the ‘Book of Nature Magics [Lesser Charms]‘
Individual wolves are dispatched in short order and the chamber becomes quiet.Neighboring chamber occupants remain asleep.
Now, with an open path to the treasure chamber and seemingly easy victory at hand, Embor intones ‘Turn Stone to Mud‘ to breach the wall and reveal…A Shimmering Potion ‘!‘
In the corner of the chamber, in a small alcove rests an eerie, purple potion. The liquid, languid in motion, stirred weird eddies within its crystal prison. Pinpricks of fine silver light trapped in the viscous flow. Preternatural.
A deep breath then Embor extended a gloved hand forward to grasp the prize but…the prize grasps first! Embor’s perception shifts, realizing boon had become bane as it morphed into creature of deception, one that preys upon materialistic desires…a Mimic! A critical error, a mistake realized too late as fleshy purple claws slash Embor’s face.
The druid struggles to remove the life of the deceptive horror affixed to hand and problems compound as the once secret door bursts open.
A rogue ‘p‘, alerted by the commotion within, enters the robbery gone awry.
After frantic minutes Embor gains the advantage and beats back the foes, but it is a hollow victory.
No great treasure to claim, only a lifeless mound of purple flesh, the once anticipated prize…now smashed.Dejected, Embor turns to leave the chamber and is caught mid stride as the Blackguard ‘p’ from the east chamber enters…a scout, in an oncoming attack.
The group from the north as well as the east chamber empty and funnel into the room Embor now holds.
A protracted skirmish with wolves and men ultimately ends with the druid victorious and, once again, left mostly empty handed.
Exhausted, Embor searches the dead, all for naught. Common, all of it. Common trinkets and magics to be had in town at a small price, not the mighty treasure the druid had expected to be strewn about a dragon’s lair.
Embor slumped down to the floor, back against the wall.
Long minutes passed as the druid rested in the quiet chamber, weird eerie minutes that dragged in mind.
Had avarice clouded the druid’s senses so completely to be fooled by such an obvious ruse?A damned mimic?
‘Of course it was a trap, you fool!’
Long, eerie minutes linger.
Exhaustion overwhelmed the druid.
Then slumber.
Embor dreamed of golden fire.
Awake.
Then confusion.
A granite wall, vanquished foes.
How long had the druid dosed? Minutes…hours?
Regaining position in reality and shaking the sleep from mind Embor arose and slowly walked to the opposite wall placing a hand upon the ancient granite.
‘Just a glimpse at the beast, a brief look at the very least.
To say ‘I, Embor, druid of Obad Hai have gazed upon the legend…and lived.’
Dungeon madness.
Weird minutes began to sneak in once again and…as the words of the spell slipped easily from the druid’s tongue
‘and lived’ evaporated from mind as a section of stone wall was transmuted to mud.
And there, before the child of a serf lay
Smaug the Golden.
The Conclusion Here:
Angband: On the Doorstep pt. 5