The last time we saw our adventurers, they journeyed deep into the heart of the mountain. A mysterious sight draws Dr. Wolf/the Wolf away, but the party must press on. The group presses forward to the throne in search of the universe-bending Time Changer. As the heroes enter the room, they’re ambushed by the Enchantress, the Predator, and the Witch Doctor.
The Gunslinger recovers, rolling over to turn back towards the throne. The Enchantress slinks down the staircase, an empty pedestal at the top. In the Enchantress’ hand is an ephod. The ornate golden ephod is covered with small strange crystals embedded in the chest plate, surrounding a larger center-stone made of the same crystal.
“The Time-Changer,” gasps the Wizard.
Out of the darkened corner stalks the Predator, glowering at the heroes. An adjoining door that opens up onto the ascending staircase opens and the Witch Doctor emerges, carrying a heavily singed Wolf. The Witch Doctor casts down the Wolf to the throne room floor below. The Wolf hits the floor heavily, a whimper escaping his throat as he begins to transform back into Dr. Wolf. The injuries were too much, causing him to slip back into his human form.
The Wizard strolls over to him and casts a golden aura around him. His breaths become less labored and the burned areas begin to appear less inflamed, but Dr. Wolf needed more time before he would be able to be back to his wolfy self.
The Enchantress casts a sly grin at the heroes as draws back her arm and casts the ephod down onto the throne room floor, smashing the Time-Changer into hundreds of pieces across the floor.
“NOOOOOOO,” cries the Gunslinger. In a moment of despair and rage, the Gunslinger draws his revolver to fire, but the Predator was faster. The Predator catches the barrel with his karambit, redirecting the bullet into the cavernous ceiling. The Gunslinger’s insurrection is ended with a quick straight to his chin. The lights go out (literally) as the Gunslinger sinks to the ground. His vision in the bionic eye flickers. The darkness closes in on his natural eye. The Gunslinger comes to rest, face down in the dirt.
The Marksman has his crossbow drawn, but hesitates. They do not have the advantage here, it would probably be best to wait for when the odds were better. A quick glance at the Wizard receives a nod in return, indicating that he had the same thoughts. The pair relaxed, but the same couldn’t be said for Captain Crimson, who gripped his sword tightly, searching for his own chance to to level the playing field.
The Enchantress chuckles, bending down to retrieve the large crystal that had been freed from the ephod.
“You see gentlemen, the true power of the Time-Changer isn’t simply the ability to change time and space within the current timeline...” says the Enchantress as she picks up her scepter. The Wizard now notices that the scepter is missing a crowning jewel.
“...it’s the power it takes to bend time,” quips the Enchantress as the crystal begins to glow blue, floating from her hand and fixing itself to the head of her scepter. The crystal glows green as the scepter enslaves the power of the large crystal. A pulse of green crawls down crystal, through the scepter and into the Enchantress’ body. The flicker re-ermerges in her off-hand. She blows the energy onto the Witch Doctor, as a seductress might blow a kiss at an unsuspecting passerby.
The Witch Doctor writhes as the green energy crackles around his body. Suddenly, the Witch Doctor snaps to attention, his eye’s ablaze with green energy. He begins to chant in a hollow voice. The Marksman could feel the dark magic laced in the words, like dirty air that burns the lungs leaves your skin feeling dingy. The Enchantress lifts her hands, bright green energy playing across her fingers. The crystals on the honeycombs begin to glow blue but then begin to change to green as the crystals shake, crack, and explode. Cracks begin to form in the comb and the octagonal shapes crack and crumble, revealing the skeletal remains of the greatest dwarven warriors to ever defend the throne of this mysterious isle.
Within seconds a few hundred undead dwarven warriors swarm the throne room floor, surrounding the heroes, bidden forth by the Witch Doctor’s dark utterances.
The Wizard realizes that the chances of the heroes leaving alive has dropped substantially. He begins to call upon the power of the island. While the Enchantress may be channeling the power of the magical stone that had been enhanced over hundreds of years through countless spells, blessings, and rituals, the island itself held more power. While it could not be broken and commanded the same way the crystal did, one could become attuned the island’s magic and use it for power. The Wizard began charging his staff, the small crystal affixed to the top glowing a bright blue. A blue aura of protection begins to form around the
The Gunslinger moans and rolls over, coming to. He groggily pulls himself up and surveys the scene. Dr. Wolf crawls towards his compatriots. He stands shakily to his feet, his clothing in tatters. He draws his sword from his cane sheath slowly.
The Marksman selects a specific pair of crossbow bolts, loading them into his crossbow. There would be no better time for action, it was now or never. Captain Crimson holds his massive sword in one hand and in the other the gigantic slug pistol provided by the Inventor. The party stood resolute in the face of the overwhelming enemy, however, in each of their hearts they knew this could very well be the end. Containing such evil could be their greatest victory.
The Enchantress laughs with an evil grating laughter, “Stand down Wizard and I may be tempted to spare your lives. You could serve great purpose in my new kingdom, there’s always room at my feet for another pet,” she purrs seductively at the Wizard.
“I am no pet,” growls the Wizard, “and your kingdom will never come to pass. We will never bow to you.”
“You will bow, in death,” hisses the Enchantress. She raises her hand, casting a broiling fireball in the air. The Wizard seeing the magic, redirects his protective aura to a shield to block the fireball, unsure if it will be enough.
“Savor your destruction,” cries the Enchantress.
“And what with us?” calls a voice mockingly, cutting through the tension...