Bujilli: Episode 118

Previously...
A raid by Grunters has only just been driven back down one of the ventilation well-shafts when Bujilli and his companions discover a traitor in their midst. Their mission compromised, the saboteur has fled...

KRACK-KOOOOOM!

Leeja's overcharged gonne split open the sky like thunder. Unfortunately the barrel likewise split, only just barely avoiding a calamitous explosion. She discarded the ruined weapon in disgust, thankful that it had not destroyed her hand. She wondered what sort of weapons Idvard had on-hand in his arsenal that she might appropriate.

Zulli screamed. Leeja hit her target. She would have sworn it had been a good hit, close to the center mass. If it had been anyone else, it would have been a killing shot. But Zulli was a Vinkin and her body wasn't structured like most humanoids. The shot had torn away a chunk of fibrous flesh, but the wound was already closing-over before she hit the ground. She had been injured worse during her training.

They watched the traitor plummet down through the trees. She was quickly lost in the roiling toxic vapors that lingered from the recent battle with the Grunters. A host of winged monkeys scattered screeching and chattering in fear and agitation, their band disturbed by Zulli's falling into their midst.

Zulli screeched and chittered madly at the winged monkeys. Just like she'd been taught. It worked. They settled down around her, watching her, studying her, intrigued and so caught off-guard. She examined the band carefully, not making any sudden movements. The fifth one was a large specimen, broad-backed and powerful; a ring-tail. She couldn't believe her luck. The spell slithered off of her tongue in seconds and she had a slave. A few curt commands and she was carried aloft by the band of winged monkeys led by the ring-tail.

Bujilli caught himself before he reached for an arrow that wasn't there. He'd used all his arrows up in the battle. He needed to re-load his manticore pistol. He considered his repertoire of spells but Zulli was clearly out of range unless he wanted to push himself...and that might prove dangerous. He was still recovering from a nasty head injury. No sense doing anything stupid.

"Idvard. Can you stop her? Do you have a spell that might prevent her escape? We should try to question Zulli. find out who sent her and why."

Idvard fixed Bujilli with his middle eye as he floated over towards the glass doors opening out onto the balcony. "Yes. I might have something that should do the trick. One moment."

Bujilli stepped aside and set about re-loading his pistol. He was grateful that he now knew how to do it properly. He shivered at the thought of getting his hand blown off through mis-handling the thing in ignorance.

Idvard spoke six guttural words in a language Bujilli did not recognize. Lambent green light streaked outward from the Triloo Archivist's fingers to snarl and snare the winged monkey carrying Zulli. The green light sizzled as it coiled and slithered around and around the fleeing creatures who screeched in outrage and terror as the spell-light singed their fur and blistered their ears or sparked into their eyes.

A tug was all it took to convince the winged monkeys to adjust course and fly back towards Idvard.

"A most useful spell." Bujilli nodded in approval.

"You will find at least three versions of this one in my collection, if you're really interested." Idvard was proud of his personal archives.

"I would like to spend some time going over some of your spell-books and grimoires..." Bujilli felt a tug on his amulet. Hedrard was attempting to contact him. He knew he had to deal with her and with Shael and the Cuckoo-girl who had ambushed them, but he wasn't ready to do so just yet. He wanted to know what had happened while he was unconscious first...and he wanted to re-stock his arrows and take some time to get his armor on right before opening a connection to Hedrard that might very well drag him and Leeja off on an adventure all in itself. He would really appreciate a chance to get up-to-speed before getting dragged down into some perilous pit or whatever, if only this once.

"As would I." Leeja folded her arms across her chest and glared at the screeching winged monkeys as they settled upon the railing, spilling Zulli onto the cold stone floor of the balcony. The suddenly silent little beasts looked like guilty children caught in the middle of some mischief.

"Of course." Idvard nodded then floated towards Zulli. His left hand crackled with orange Unflames while a swirling cloud of caustic lime trailed along behind his right hand.

"Please!" The Vinkin saboteur pleaded.

"Traitor!"

"Have pity on me!"

"If you would save your own life, I suggest you tell us who sent you and what your mission was...before your former employer makes your last few seconds of life entirely too excruciating to contemplate."

Zulli could smell the lime, could feel the Unflames; both could destroy her painfully. Idvard knew well how to deal with her kind. Little good it would do him. He was soft. Weak. She knew he would consider showing her clemency if she said the right words. He was civilized. Unprepared for what was coming.

Her master was not prone to mercy.

---

Meanwhile...
Blood, fur and body parts flew in every direction. Putneys' rats fought fiercely, but they were drastically outnumbered. A dozen or more emaciated, diseased rats swarmed over each of his beauties. They could only bite or claw their way through so many at a time. He was proud of them. There was a rapidly-growing mound of dead rats all around them. His boots squelched through rancid rat-flesh churned into the mud. The war-lamp sputtered and died. He threw it as far from him as he could, his gloves smoldering from the unnatural heat cascading through the hexed thing. Knives it was then. He could see them just on the edge of the area that fell within the fitfully dying flashes and sparks of the lamp. He despised these pestilent, pretentious cadavers and their sickness and schemes. Whistling the shrill signal to go on the offensive Old Man Putney scrambled out of the light and plunged into the darkness where he and his rats did some of their best work. A nosferatu hissed only inches from his face. He lashed out...  

---

Idvard barked one harsh word and the band of winged monkeys evaporated in a flash of inversive green light. The railing was scorched with the frantic silhouettes of the unfortunate creatures.

Zulli struggled to her knees, still caught-up within the snarling, sizzling green light-strands. She looked up at Idvard, into his three eyes and knew all was lost.

"Why did you sabotage the bomb? Why would you do that?" Bujilli finished re-loading his pistol.

"I..." Zulli looked over at the not-quite-almas. He had livid purple scars across his forearm that ran across his chest where his shirt fell open. He was marked. He really was the one she had been warned about.

"You! There's no refuge for you here, nor for that deluded bitch you dragged here either!" She dredged-up as vile a curse from the deepest, darkest parts of her soul to fling at this not-man, this pretender to humanity, the sworn enemy of her master.

Leeja's ivory-flame hair snapped out, lashed across Zulli's cheek drawing forth a spattering of a yellowish substance that served her kind as blood.

Zulli bowed her head involuntarily. Her curse collapsed before it could truly take form.

"No you don't." Leeja stalked over to the kneeling prisoner and roughly grabbed her by the chin; "You think you recognize my partner, but do you know who I am?"

Zulli went still. Her eyes closed tight. All fight went out of her. It was true then. Too terribly true.

"I take it by your silence that would be a yes." Leeja squeezed the Vinkin girl's jaw; "Now look at me."

"I...I cannot. It is forbidden! You wear no mask!" Amber-yellow tears streaked down Zulli's cheeks but she refused to turn her head, would not look at Leeja no matter how much she tried to force her.

"This is not Aman Utal--"

"Even in this place you ever are and will always be a Princess of Deep Dendo. Do with me what you will--the Grunters will take my revenge for me!" Zulli glared at Idvard.

Sirens began to wail once more.

"The Grunters are coming up through another Well-shaft!" Zutissa stood next to Idvard, gleaming-glass long sword in-hand; "There's a lot of them!" She was gone.

BOOM!

The floor vibrated underfoot. Green smoke began to flood across the gardens and paths once more.

"Who sent you! Whom do you serve!" Demanded Bujilli.

"Let me tell you..." Zulli smiled broadly as deadly purple vapors began to stream from her mouth and nostrils...

What should Bujilli & Leeja do next?

You Decide!

---

Synchronocitor Status: Fully Recharged.

---

What should they do now?

First we need to Roll for Initiative: 1) Bujilli, 2) Leeja, 3) Bortho, 4) the Grunters, 5) Idvard, 6) Idvard's Defenders. (1d6 each as per LL p. 50)

We'll need a round of Saving Throws as well, while we're at it. This will require 1d20 for both Leeja and Bujilli, as per LL p. 54-55. We'll be using the Save vs Poison or Death column. Leeja rolls as a Thief, Bujilli as a Fighter. If they fail, they'll take some serious damage. If they make their saves, then the damage will be minimal as they were able to get out of the area of effect quickly enough.

We'll also need four or five d20 rolls.

Like we mentioned last episode, Bujilli certainly needs some fresh arrows. Next episode, he can request some from Idvard's servant-drones that carry such supplies to the defenders. Those drones are going to be kept busy, but Bujilli has priority, thanks to his previous contract with Idvard.

We will be checking-in on the Cuckoo-Girl and Headmistress Shael next episode. Promise. Things just sort of flowed this way, so we'll loop back to them next time. Bujilli is also going to put the Synchronocitor to good use, per reader suggestion, once he gets a better idea of the situation...possibly even before the purple smoke clears...

Feel free to ask questions or to discuss the situation in the comments. I'll do my best to respond to comments in a timely manner.

Let me know what you think they ought to do in the comments below, or via email and we'll resume things next week!

What do they do next?

You Decide!

---

Previous                            Next

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Series Indexes

One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six  |  Seven

---

Starting Page  |  Central Index

---

About Bujilli (What is This?) | Who is Bujilli? | How to Play

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Bujilli's Character Sheet | Leeja's Character Sheet | Cast of Characters

Bujilli's Spells | Little Brown Journals | Loot Tally | House Rules

---

Episode Guides
Series One (Episodes 1-19)

Series Two (Episode 20-36)

Series Three (Episodes 37-49)

Series Four (Episodes 50-68)

Series Five (Episodes 69-99)
Series Six(Episodes 100 - 111)
Series Seven (112 - ongoing)

---

Labyrinth Lord   |   Advanced Edition Companion

Bujilli: Episode 115

Previously...
Down through the Mushroom Caves beneath the Secondary Kitchens, Ulricht left behind to guard the barred door behind them, Bujilli and Leeja lead the stretcher-bearer constructs and drones along the route illuminated by Ulricht's sorcerous orb. They come to some sort of ancient bridge or aqueduct-type structure that spans a dimly lit gorge. The Orb leads them along until at the very middle of the bridge the Orb fades, leaving them in the echoing darkness with a Sewer Militia patrol rapidly approaching from the other side...

"Who Goes There!" barked a Corporal's voice as four galvanic lantern-lances clicked on, flooding the section of the bridge they were on with a harsh actinic radiance.

"Scheiss!" grumbled Leeja; "It's the fucking Sewer Militia."

"Silas Grompf's people?" Bujilli glanced at Shael. She was not in any shape to do much right now. He wasn't sure if she was still on good terms with the old man in charge of the Sewer Militia.

The harsh lights approached on the double. Even on the gritty, mucky surface of the old bridge they did not make much noise. No creaking of harness, no clatter of armor, no scuffing of boots on the concrete or metal grating underfoot--these were not green troops.

Bujilli's hand stopped half-way to his hand-axe as a cool, blue breeze buffeted his skin, raising his hackles and sending an electric chill down his spine. He could see every glyph, rune and symbol impressed upon Leeja's mind, brain and aura as they orbited the major nexii and plexii of her nervous system. Leeja flinched as though stung. Her new-found sword was out and viciously snickering to itself. He knew without doubt that if not for his Uncle's lessons in sorcerous self-defense, his own repertoire would stand revealed just as crisp and cleanly as Leeja's...he would have to spend some time with her soon, teach her how to cloud her aura, veil her thoughts and obscure the details of her inner-workings from those who pried into other people's skulls with such spells as they were now experiencing.

"We're friendly!" yelled Bujilli, suppressing a sly smirk as he examined the spell surrounding them. A light tug here, a twist there and he rendered it a very pretty, but ultimately uninformative display. He wasn't sure what secrets Shael might be holding on to, so it seemed best to err on the side of caution. Besides he had a reputation to consider...a sorcerer can't let just anyone poke around in their business. Not even the sewer Militia. Probably especially them.

"Sergeant! He's neutralized my spell--"

"Of course I did. You did not ask permission before your intrusion." Bujilli watched as three figures approached through the actinic glare.

"Stand down Kallas. They've got wounded in tow and seem to be headed somewhere other than the Academy. A very sensible decision...what with all the fuss and bother going on lately." The Sergeant looked them over with a sardonic gaze that missed nothing.

"We've just come from there. Our...friend...is hurt. Badly. We're taking her to someone we hope can help." Bujilli could feel another four members of the patrol watching their every move from behind the intense glare of the actinic lamp-lances. He almost missed the other three that were taking up positions at various points along the superstructure overhead. Snipers? He didn't want to find out.

"You heading up and out, or down into the dark?"

"Up. Out. Our friend--"

"Good enough for me. I don't intend to waste my time wrangling over jurisdiction or any of that crap. If you're headed out then I'll send along an escort to get you to the nearest exit-point. We've got bigger fish to fry--"

Sizzle. CRACKLE. ZZZZZZZZZZZZiiiiittttttttttCCCCCCCCHHHHHHHHHHH! pop.

"Got one!" Called out one of the lancers.

"Jovin. You help these students find their way then catch up to us at the next junction. The rest of you get moving. There's a lot more of these rat-bastards scurrying around down here and we need to clear them out while we've got the chance."

"Thank you." Leeja did her best to look as demure as possible, despite the all too sinister sword.

"I hope your friend can help Shael out. We'll have the lower-levels surrounding the Academy-grounds cleared and secured as best we can. Then the fighting will really begin." The Sergeant raised his fist overhead and the sniper and sappers smoothly rappelled down from their positions and rejoined the rest of their unit.

"You. Knew." Bujilli felt a momentary shock. He had blunted their spell before it could reach Shael. He was almost certain of it.

"Thank your friend Putney. He told me you lot might be coming this way, before he went hunting with his little friends." The Sergeant grinned broadly. It was anything but a comforting gesture. He turned back and began bawling out fresh orders. The lamps clicked off. The patrol was gone.

"Ahem." A thin-limbed woman in splotchy-gray leather scowled at them in obvious distaste.

"You're Jovin then?" Bujilli extended his hand. She snorted in disdain, turned and started trotting along the bridge with nary a sound to betray her passage.

"Not terribly talkative." Leeja shook her head; "but at least she can lead us to where we need to go."

"Only if we get moving." Bujilli motioned to the constructs and they got moving again. Every step crunching in grit, scraping against the old, pitted metal...they sounded like a noisy procession of drunken clowns compared to Jovin's silent movement.

The bridge ended in a fortified abutment. Sewer Militia sappers and combat engineers were busily repairing and upgrading the emplacement. Bujilli was curious, but didn't dawdle. Jovin didn't seem like the sort who would take kindly to any delays in her rejoining her unit.

Shael moaned. Even with the stretcher-bearer drones she had been jostled and bounded around quite a bit. He hoped she wouldn't suffer too much more before they finally reached Idvard's Keep.

Jovin led them along a well-trod military road set with harshly-faceted concrete pylons and other defensive structures, most of which he couldn't get a clear look at even when he slowed down. He almost stopped, but Jovin was getting too far ahead of them and he did not want to run afoul of another patrol.

They turned off of the main road. Jovin led them across three smaller bridges in quick succession, each one set-up to rotate away from their moorings and thus serve as a make-shift firing-platform/fortress as needed. The second one showed signs of having been shot-up pretty badly in the past and another detachment of sappers were busily making repairs. She turned a corner and they hustled to catch up before she got too far ahead and they lost her.

She was waiting for them at the arched opening to a huge, squarish shaft. The path led around either side of the yawning gulf that faintly echoed with distant voices and machinery. The air was cool and humid.

"Watch your step. It gets slippery around here."

She headed off along the left-hand side. The path here was a series of small, rectangular platforms, each one hinged and set to drop on command in any sequence or order or all at once. A huge raft-like pallet was being lowered on stout chains by some sort of derrick or crane mounted overhead. Another group of people trotted along the opposite side of the shaft. At least half their number were Morlocks. The one in the rear carried a heavy lime-caster. Nasty stuff.

Jovin snapped-on a gleaming-orange lumostick and led them along a series of inter-connected tunnels, some of which were tiled or had brick walls. A ramp slanted upwards and they crossed over a drainage channel, part of the storm sewer system. They passed through a couple of round, juncture-chambers set with heavy valves and hatches. Then Jovin halted beneath a round spot marked-off with green paint.

"The elevator will be along in a minute. Take it to the surface station. Three floors up from here. Take the left exit. You should recognize the neighborhood, but just in case, half-way down the block on your right is the door you want. Think you can manage?"

"Yes. Thank you. We apprec--"

"Save it. Just following orders. I've got to get back right away--our other Pathfinder is wounded and I need to round-up a medic to take back with me." She slipped back down the ramp and was gone.

"I wish I could move that quietly." Leeja watched Jovin make her way down the ramp.

"Something tells me she's had a lot more practice than either of us." Bujilli could hear the dull whine of the elevator descending. He motioned for the drones to get over to one side, so there'd be room for whomever was coming down on the thing. They were close to their destination now. No sense getting bogged-down in some pointless hassle with another patrol or some more Morlocks.

The elevator crunched into place. It was empty. They got on-board the thing and Leeja pushed the button next to the little graphic depicting what she thought was a surface street. The other options looked like rail-roads, unterrail or some sort of sewer or maintenance passageway. In any case it was the topmost option, three spots over the one marked with a green circle like the paint on the floor.

Chains clanked. The cables hummed. They passed a platform where half a dozen people waited for one of the few subterranean trains still in-service; passed a very dark and cold level; passed a noisy concrete channel where a work-crew was removing obstructing debris that had caused the dark waters to back-up dangerously. The work-crews were yelling and hammering and dragging and making quite a racket as they struggled to forestall a flood. Then the elevator clanked into place. A smaller platform or station than the one they had passed below. The left exit was less than thirty feet from the elevator.

The door leading out to the street-level was rusted shut but they got it open with a little effort.

It was dark. The crescent moon overhead with only a few fluffy clouds. There were no lights along this stretch of street, though they could see the hazy yellowish-glow of sodium-lamps off to the left on the other side of a cross-street. The nearest street-lamp to the right was at least two blocks away and seemed to flicker as though it was damaged or faulty.

"Yes. This looks right." Leeja led the way. She recognized some of the boarded-over shops near them.

Bujilli led the drones out. Shael seemed to be sleeping; her breathing was deep and even, a good sign.

"It isn't far at all."

Then the sling-stones began to fall like hail.

One of the fighting drones squealed as its head cracked-open from an egg-shaped rock striking it.

One of the stretcher-bearers stepped into the jaws of a trap set near the door. It nearly sheared-off the thing's leg and it stood there until three stones hit it in rapid succession. Bujilli barely grabbed the stretcher in time to keep it from slamming to the ground. He lowered it and drew out his hand-axe.

Another stone struck Bujilli in the shoulder. Hard. He started to form a Shield spell when a stone struck him in the head.

He fell.

Leeja hissed in anger. Leaped over his body.

Something wet spattered on his back and arm. All he knew for sure was that it was not his blood. Then he was alone in the dark except for the screaming. Something hot was pressing into his chest--


What should Bujilli & Leeja do next?

You Decide!

---

Synchronocitor Status: Full Recharge in 1 hour.

---

What should they do now?

First we need to Roll for Initiative (1d6 each): 1) Bujilli [-3], 2) Leeja [-2], 3) The Feral Children [+4: It's their ambush after all]. (as per LL p. 50)

A Reaction Roll (2d6) might come in handy. (as per P. 52) Be aware that a really bad score on this will mean that the group in question may well recognize Bujilli & Leeja from before, perhaps some of them were present at the Film Repository or heard the story from one of the survivors.

Six or seven d20 rolls will get the violence addressed, for the most part. Bujilli has now taken 5 points of damage. He was slightly stunned but can still move, attack or carry the stretcher once his turn comes around. One fighting drone is ruined (natural 20!) the other one is automatically defending Bujilli's flank and will continue to act as an ambulatory shield until given new orders. One stretcher-bearer drone is down to one leg, the other one remains in pristine condition, for now. Shael is unconscious and so far oblivious to the situation.

We need to determine how many Feral Children are involved. That would be 3d6+3. There is also a 30% chance of there being a Cuckoo in their midst, most likely as their leader.

Once all that is taken care of...what should Bujilli and his companions do next?

Should Bujilli check out the hot-thing pressing into his flesh or ignore it since he has people lobbing stones at his head at the moment?

Would you like for them to go on the offensive? Unleash a few spells? Rush the nearest slingers? Or should they consider using the drones as a distraction and make a break for the entrance to Idvard's old place--keep in mind that they'll still need to make it up a few flights of stairs to reach the Weak Point. But maybe Idvard has a sentry on-duty and they can request some assistance?

Do you have a better idea or suggestion?

Feel free to ask questions or to discuss the situation. I'll do my best to respond to comments in a timely manner.

Let me know what you think they ought to do in the comments below, or via email and we'll resume things next week!

What do they do next?
You Decide!

---

Previous                            Next

---

Series Indexes

One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six  |  Seven

---

Starting Page  |  Central Index

---

About Bujilli (What is This?) | Who is Bujilli? | How to Play

---

Bujilli's Character Sheet | Leeja's Character Sheet | Cast of Characters

Bujilli's Spells | Little Brown Journals | Loot Tally | House Rules

---

Episode Guides
Series One (Episodes 1-19)

Series Two (Episode 20-36)

Series Three (Episodes 37-49)

Series Four (Episodes 50-68)

Series Five (Episodes 69-99)
Series Six(Episodes 100 - 111)
Series Seven (112 - ongoing)

---

Labyrinth Lord   |   Advanced Edition Companion

Bujilli: Episode 114

Previously...
With a little help from their new friend Ulricht, the Privy Councils' Gauntlim assassin has been defeated. now they need to make their way to Idvard's Keep, but which route will Bujilli and his companions take to get there? 

The Ivory Toad watched patiently as the Stretcher-bearer drones adjusted Shael's make-shift travois into something a bit more stable before lifting her off of the floor. The other two drones, both equipped with narrow, rapier-style blades took up positions in front and behind their fellow drones.

"So do we head for this Fountain or leave through the Caves?" Leeja inquire of no one in particular.

Shael didn't hear her. The pain of her accursed condition had grown nearly unbearable from all the movement and strain she'd undergone. Her physical discomfort was nothing compared to her inner turmoil. Ulricht's words had gotten her to question things she had all too readily and easily accepted. Things that need not be so.

Bujilli considered picking up the Morlock's toothsome lash, but it hissed softly and slithered away from his fingers. It clearly wanted nothing to do with him, for whatever reason. Instead he strode over to the Snickering Sword the Gauntlim had dropped. It gleamed and glittered along its razor-notched edge. He had not really replaced the old tulwar he had wielded for nearly a decade...not after it had been ruined in the battle between his mother's geist and his father*. This blade was exceptionally well-crafted, but it reminded him of another such weapon; a scimitar that had tried to wheedle its way into his hands after the defeat of its previous mistress, a mad Princess from some weird city-state out past the seething wastes of the Kalaramar Drifts**. Bujilli hesitated. Caught himself. Withdrew his hand. Stepped away from the sword.

Ulricht laughed; "You seem concerned about the nature of the weapon before you young one. Do you sense some malignant presence lurking within the folded-steel, some vengeful geist looking for a chance to obsess or possess an unwary wielder?"

"I have encountered such things before..."

"Excellent! And now you show a healthy respect and judicious bit of caution when confronted by such a thing. Many never really learn that particular lesson. Greed often overcomes good sense."

"I came here to this place to learn--"

"The exact purpose for which it was first established, thus you are indeed in the correct place. Mind you, your timing could be better."

"What might you tell me about this sword?" Bujilli looked at it once more. It was too good a thing to leave lying around. If it could not be put to use, it would have to be disposed of...somehow.

"Tell you? Very little. But I might tell your fellow student a few significant things."

"Yes?" Leeja came over beside Bujilli and looked at the gleaming sword; "Like what?"

"Examine the pommel-stone if you would."

Leeja knelt down. The pommel was set with a glossy black stone of some sort. The stone was faceted. It had twelve sides. Each face was carved with uncouth dagger-like wedges of cuneiform characters. Even as she looked upon it the stone rotated, tumbled in its setting to reveal a different array of faces.

"Ixaxar!" hissed Leeja as she lurched back and away from the sword.

"Yes. Indeed. You recognize it, as I suspected one of your bearing and blood might. You could wield this weapon, should you wish to do so, but not your friend here. The Pallid are quite particular as to who and what they allow to make use of their things. To them your Almas-blood would render you far removed from what they recognize or accept as human."

"But I am not entirely of the Pallid..."

"No. Indeed. Never the less you have what it takes to wield the blade. If anything, you might wield it far more effectively than its previous master even could. He was not of Deep Dendo and only barely managed to convince the thing to serve him, and then only in so far as he might lead it to a more suitable master. Like yourself."

"Do you advise me to take up this sword?" Leeja turned to gaze skeptically on Ulricht as if somehow not quite trusting him.

"No. I merely point out an opportunity unique to this situation that might be of interest to yourself. Whether or not you avail yourself of it is entirely up to you. I am only  acting in an advisory capacity." Ulricht re-mounted his War Dodo.

Leeja looked back on the sword.

"The blade is ancient. Vinksome in nature, if I am not mistaken. A real head-taker. Originally it was created for the old warlord of Vadomar who had acquired quite a reputation as a monster-slayer before he was deposed by outcasts from Clovia. But all that was long ago and there are no legitimate heirs or claimants to the sword, so it is yours, if you wish to take it."

Leeja looked back at Ulricht; "Will it serve me do you think?"

"As well as anything from your ancestral lands."

"That is an evasion. Not an answer." She glared at Ulricht.

"The blade will serve you, until it finds a more suitable host, as is its nature."

"A treacherous thing. I dislike leaving it behind. It could be a source of much mischief." She scooped the manxome sword up from the floor. It slipped into her hand perfectly, snarled softly, then glittered quietly. Content for the moment. She could feel a pent-up malevolence in her hand, ancient and wicked and perfectly happy to serve her. For now.

"Which way do we go?" Leeja asked Bujilli.

"I say we--"

"We've delayed too long; the Fountain of Darkjean is cut-off from us at this time." Ulricht nudged his odd mount into motion. He hoped they would take the hint. There were far worse things than Morlocks or Gauntlim in the vicinity.

"Let's head to these Caves you mentioned. Are they far?"

"Not when you're traveling with me!" Ulricht spurred his War Dodo forward with a graceful lurch.

Bujilli motioned to the drones and they followed Ulricht. He adjusted his grip on his hand-axe and tried not to worry overmuch about Leeja's new sword. She kept pace with him. The sword snickered softly to itself.

Three passages, four doorways, a hallway, two vaulted corridors and they arrived at the double-wide doors at the entrance to a spiral-rampway leading down to the Caves.

Ulricht sat astride his beast and made sure everyone was past the doors before he motioned to Bujilli.

"I suggest that you close and bar these doors. As a precaution."

Bujilli nodded. Padded over and closed the doors. They were ponderous things, but well-balanced on their hinges. He saw something moving down the corridor they had just crossed. It was large and shaggy and he slammed the bars into place in all three sets of brackets to hold the doors fast.

"Gnoph-vir or some similar horrid thing. Many such things have been set loose in the last few days. Your friend will very likely find her new sword coming in handy all too soon."

"No doubt." Bujilli jogged alongside Ulricht to the head of their little group.

"So long as we remain within the Green Zone we'll only encounter edible, culinary fungi. It's when we cross over into the Blue Zone and then the Yellow Zone that we'll run afoul of anything particularly dangerous."

"Such as a Fungal Tyrant?"

"Perhaps. You have encountered such things previously?" Ulricht regarded him more seriously.

"Yes. We both have." Bujilli watched as one set of cylindrical quartz-lamps flickered then radiated a soft, warm light as they passed, slipping back into shadow once they had all moved on.

"Remarkable. Neither of you bear the marks of assimilation or infection." He was certain of it.

"We escaped." Bujilli did not want to elaborate. The situation had been most peculiar and he did not want to admit that they made a deal with the thing, even if it was in the face of an even worse enemy.

"Many do not. You've both done well." Ulricht seemed satisfied.

"Perhaps. We are heading back to a place where a Fungal Tyrant might very well still be rooted and waiting for us..."

"Ah. Then you will the fractured Trapezoid of Black Attush far more useful to you than the Smoldering White Jelly of Selinoth Yr."+++

"But I am not attuned..."

"No one is, except perhaps for the mad and the dead. You know the basic forms used in accessing Selinoth Yr. It's a simple enough matter to shift your point of access down the plenal scale to Attush. You might benefit from the niceties and intricacies involved in the established methodologies, but you know enough now to make it work for you. If you dare." Ulricht looked into his eyes as if to more closely examine his very soul.

"But it is dangerous, isn't it?"

"Of course it is--it's sorcery."

The rampway ended at an arch beyond which was only darkness.

"You, of course, know of some simple means to illuminate your way ahead?" Ulricht took up position at the threshold. He seemed uninterested in continuing further.

"Yes." Bujilli made a Gloomglyph with his left hand and pushed it out ahead of them all. This time he made it a smoldering orange hue and kept it a good twenty feet forward of his position.

"Excellent. I had planned on accompanying you farther, but that would be most unwise at this juncture."

BOOM!

"As you can hear for yourself. The doors will hold...but eventually that...thing...will get past. I intend to be waiting for it. It shall not follow you."

"But we do not know the way--"

"I promised to serve as a guide. Doing so does not require my immediate presence." Ulricht held forth his right hand, turned it palm-upward and a violet light swirled into a glowing orb that floated out past the archway to dance around the Gloomglyph.

"Follow the orb. It will lead you where you want to go and it should discourage most of the things likely to prove bothersome in the Blue Zone."

"What of the Yellow Zone?" Bujilli demanded.

"Best you avoid anything that might be interested in you there. If you do find yourself in trouble, consider it an excellent opportunity to practice your use of the second glyph. Just remember to relinquish the connection before dismissing the glyph or else you'll do as much harm to yourself as to your foes." Ulricht smiled broadly, bowed slightly towards Leeja and Shael, then rode off back up the ramp to await whatever was trying to break through the great doors behind them.

BOOM!

"Best we get moving then." Bujilli motioned to the drones to follow him. Leeja remained for a little while longer, watching after Ulricht. He wasn't sure if she regretted his departure or if she was relieved.

The violet orb shimmered and pulsed and led them onward into the darkness. They passed many bales and boxes and barrels. Store-rooms. Shelves. Growing-chambers. The air remained cool, but became increasingly yeasty and their skin took on a grittiness from all the spores swirling in the dark.

The floor was damp and slippery, despite gratings and drains and other improvements.

They traveled down a sloping, curving passage then slogged through a partly flooded chamber, up a slight incline and past several very rough, barely-worked chambers where clumps of dripping yellow-green ooze gave off a sickly phlegmic light. The violet orb followed a set of rusted metal rails across a bridge or aquaduct of some sort that spanned a deep, dismal gorge.

Abruptly the Gloomglyph popped. The violet orb faded out.

"Who Goes There!" barked a Corporal's voice as four galvanic lantern-lances clicked on, flooding the section of the bridge they were on with a harsh actinic radiance.

"Scheiss!" grumbled Leeja; "It's the fucking Sewer Militia."



What should Bujilli & Leeja do next?

You Decide!

---

* A climactic show-down that took place in Episode 67.
** Who could forget the insane Princess Jamildra from Episode 14?
+++ See Twenty Deadly Planes.

What should they do now?

First we need to Roll for Initiative (1d6 each): 1) Bujilli, 2) Leeja, 3) The Sewer Militia, and 4) Their actual quarry.
(as per p. 50)

A Reaction Roll (2d6) might be nice as well. (as per P. 52)

Three or four d20 rolls would be useful to determine if anyone spots anything or notices anything before the lights go up and everyone gets busy doing whatever you decide they're going to be doing.

Once all that is taken care of...what should Bujilli and his companions do next?

Should they stand their ground or flee or go on the offensive?
Do you think they ought to attempt to communicate, possibly parley with the Sewer Militia, maybe convince the patrol to let them pass...or should they demolish the patrol, unleashing spells and/or trying out Leeja's new sword?

Do they dare allow the patrol to recognize Shael?

Maybe they can convince the patrol to go after whatever is trying to break down the doors upstairs and behind them?

Should they try to bluff their way past? They are escorting someone who is obviously in need of medical attention...

Or do you have another idea or suggestion?

Feel free to ask questions or to discuss the situation. I'll do my best to respond to comments in a timely manner.

Let me know what you think they ought to do in the comments below, or via email and we'll resume things next week!

What do they do next?
You Decide!

---

Previous                            Next

---

Series Indexes

One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six  |  Seven

---

Starting Page  |  Central Index

---

About Bujilli (What is This?) | Who is Bujilli? | How to Play

---

Bujilli's Character Sheet | Leeja's Character Sheet | Cast of Characters

Bujilli's Spells | Little Brown Journals | Loot Tally | House Rules

---

Episode Guides
Series One (Episodes 1-19)

Series Two (Episode 20-36)

Series Three (Episodes 37-49)

Series Four (Episodes 50-68)

Series Five (Episodes 69-99)
Series Six(Episodes 100 - 111)
Series Seven (112 - ongoing)

---

Labyrinth Lord   |   Advanced Edition Companion

Bujilli: Episode 113

Previously...
Bujilli and Leeja with Shael had just escaped the fury of the no-longer-delayed-or-abeyed wards placed by Gnosiomandus on his now abandoned rooms. They are headed to their friend Idvard's Keep...they just need to get through the not entirely empty halls of The Academy first...

The Ivory Toad burbled something untranslatable from atop the rail. There were some spindly-looking drones standing in a line directly behind it. Two had wicked blades affixed to their insectile fore-limbs. The other two were cobbled together from broken crates and other things, bound in wire and wrapped with blood-soaked rags--Pruztian battlefield constructs. Stretcher-bearers. Each one stood blankly waiting for orders.

Bujilli wrenched his hand-axe free of the Morlock's skull with a gout of foul-smelling blood. He yelled at the drones the Toad had led back to him; "Get down here and make yourselves useful."

He re-drew the glyph for calling forth the Ivory Toad in his mind's eye. The creature croaked in approval. He smiled; it might be a minor casting, but it could come in handy someday.

Leeja drew out her stiletto as she tried to pull Shael back and away from the figure in cerulean velvet and black silk wrappings. For her part the supposedly Ex-Headmistress stared at the hunchback-in-chainmail who sat astride his well-barded Dodo with silver-shod talons grinning wolfishly in expectation of impending mischief and mayhem.

"No Authority?" She mouthed the words over and over again to herself in shock. Ulricht nodded his extravagantly-plumed head, waiting for the truth to finally soak in past her skull and her scars. It sometimes took mortals oh so long to realize such simple things.

The tall, thin figure drew forth a narrow-bladed long sword notched the entire length by slightly tilted W-shaped double-indents making it look fiercely toothsome, even manxome. It's almond-shaped eyes glared with baleful, pentoxulent malevolence as it regarded its given prey; Shael.

"As I said; the old pacts are not so fragile as some would have it. Some of us still keep the Old Ways." Ulricht shifted in his ornate saddle and addressed the Gauntling raising its snickering sword; "Avaunt Horror. Your masters have no say over this place and you are unwelcome in my presence. Your sickly countenance offends my delicate sensibilities. Begone."

"You have no authority over me--"

"Milady Headmistress, might I prevail upon you for your kind permission to dispatch this offal-chewing corpse on your behalf?"

"Yes." Shael struggled to stand upright; "Yes! By the Old Pacts Yes! Drive this thing from our Academy Ulricht!"

Ulricht smiled three-times as wide as was possible then goaded his mount into motion with his spurs.

"Not enough clean meat left on you to catch the point of a good spear, nor would a sword be particularly satisfying as it would merely cleave you into disparate pieces your masters would only stitch back together again. No, that will not do. Not at all. I suppose there's nothing for it then." He sighed as he reached forth with his mail-gloved hand, gestured, and brought forth a heavy three-headed flail. Each head sculpted into the shrieking visage of a hideous figure drooling deep red flames.

"I have no quarrel with--"

Ulricht drove home his spurs. The Dodo leaped. The flail smoldered and roared as it crashed down upon the Gauntlim.

The snarling, snickering sword howled as it swirled through the air.

The flail came back with a jerk only to snap forward and down again and again.

Ulricht laughed heartily.

The flail screamed as it slipped out of existence once again. He dismounted and began to pick through the brittle, blasted remains of the Gauntlim, setting the choicest bits into a small pile.

"With your leave; the spoils go to the victor."

Shael nodded once, wincing in great pain from the notions; "As it is written of old. Thank you Ulricht." The hunchback bound-up the carefully chosen fragments of his dispatched foe in the rags left from its own wrappings which he wound tighter and tighter, crushing it all down into a sort of lumpy ball that he then slipped into a saddle-bad on the dodo.

"No need to thank me Lady Shael. I was only doing my appointed task. But, of course, it is always nice to be appreciated. Shall I accompany you? There is much turmoil within the place of late. Many outsiders. Too much conniving and meddling. You really ought to clean house." He let a look of anger and disappointment slip across his countenance then resumed his grinning mien.

"Yes. You are right. Too right. I will...I would greatly appreciate your help in doing what is necessary and needful Ulricht..."

"Then you shall have it, as it is in the nature of the Pact that binds me to this place. And what of these two stalwart youths? I can see that you both are marked as students, so I will instruct you in something you might have use of later. Observe." Ulricht strode over to the section of wall where the Gauntlim had entered the hallway. The wall still fluctuated softly, slowly, like a rippling pond of thick syrup.

"You," he pointed to Bujilli; "Young Man, you know of a spell that might be made more useful in addressing intrusive phenomena of just this sort. I can see it glimmering in your brain. Do you have some idea of which spell I am referring?"

Bujilli considered his repertoire. One spell made more sense than the others, though for a moment he considered suggesting a variation on 'Listen to the Walls,'

"Protection From Aethyrial Intrusion?" He wasn't keen on finding out what Oneiric Bubble would do in this situation based on his previous experience back under Zormur's Palace.* His attempt at modifying that spell under those circumstances had yielded some rather spectacular and quite unforeseen results. He had been fortunate to escape the worst of it.

"Good. Very good. Cast it, if you will."

"What? Now? Here?"

"Yes. Now. There." Ulricht pointed to the spatial instability in the wall as it slowly congealing closed.

Bujilli nodded. Closed his eyes. Adjusted his breathing. Prepared himself. Cast the spell.

"Now open your eyes and pay strict attention--we do not want to spoil this opportunity."

Bujilli felt his spell transform itself before him as Ulricht reconfigured it, transformed it, modified it to sieze upon the flickering liminal edges of the instability and interpose itself between the HereNow and the ThereThen. It held the thing open, formed a transitional space that could easily be adjusted and pushed outwards to form a passage...or...with a twist the whole thing could be set into motion to form a vortex that would either wind itself down into a miniscule point before slipping out of existence or conversely it could be set going in the opposite direction, fed more and more power until it broke down the barriers and boundaries it was anchored within...a dozen more permutations and elaborations flashed through Bujilli's mind.

"There. That gives you some idea of what can be done. I'll leave it to your imagination and ingenuity to investigate the possibilities for yourself." Ulricht nodded in approval then strode over to Shael and offered her his arm for support. She reached out and her pain eased as he propped her up.

"Thank you Ulricht." Bujilli felt dozens of connections and new direction suggesting themselves to him, each spell he knew led to dozens more that he could learn, could discover if he only applied himself, explored his own repertoire. It was a heady, invigorating realization that blew away the last few lingering vestiges of his Uncle's sabotage and deliberately cultivated bad habits intended to weaken him and make him a better servitor, a more useful slave.

"But of course young sir--you came here seeking knowledge. It is the sacred responsibility of all who serve, who are bound, who hold office in this place to assist in the ongoing process of instruction, revelation and exploration. To do anything less is to dishonor the institution and all those affiliated with it." Ulricht stared directly into Shael's eyes even as he was addressing Bujilli.

"Ahem. Now your turn young lady. I see that you know the root-spell for ghoulish aspiration--Charnel Breath. that particular spell we won't be using today as it would open the way to a rather undesirable place and draw unwanted attention. Likewise your Pale Shelter spell would only delay us and not serve our interests quite so well at this time, however in the future know that it can be modified to provide refuge from all manner of unfriendly and untoward forces with but a modicum of reworking or revision on your part. But for today, let us make use of your Protection From Shadows spell, if you please."

Leeja looked to Shael who grinned assent. She stepped away from her Aunt and moved into place before the sorcerous breech in the wall and cast her spell.

"Ah good. You see how it draws the edges back like eddies of ink within a pool of wermoil? That is where your spell and theirs both come into contact, a sort of interference layer. Perhaps it is not dissimilar to some forms of weather, but that is something I'll leave for you to reflect upon in-between your studies."

Another Gauntlim moved into the breech. And another. Another. Eight of the dry, vengeful things were entering into the breech.

"And now we shift things like so. What do you see now young lady?"

The breech was sealed. No. Not so much sealed as closed-over, trapping the Gauntlims in-transit.

"But..."

"Shadows are negative spaces created by the passage of opaque objects through the light. Affecting the absence of something implies some measure of identification with the thing itself, after a fashion. Enough to extrapolate from and in the case of subjects who voluntary allow themselves to enter into your frame of reference...well...I'll let you ponder that for another day as well."

"Thank you." Leeja felt her spell fade, the residual shrieks of the entrapped Gauntlim echoed across her mind only momentarily before they too faded into oblivion.

"Now. Where were you headed Milady Shael?" Ulricht set her gently down onto the stretcher strung between the two constructs. He made a small gesture and imparted a small spell to the rough canvas that it might ease its passenger's discomfort.

"We are on our way to see an ally. We need to leave by the nearest exit, preferably one near the Burned Over District on this side of the Film Repository."

"It is good to have allies in this place. I know of three such exits that might serve you; One is nearest the Fountain of Darkjean, one is at the very threshold of the Red Tentacle Inn, and one is well within the Caves where culinary mushrooms are raised by the Vesgal, who also still keep the Old Pacts."

"I do not know these places, at least not by those names..." Bujilli looked to Leeja--she'd been in the place longer than him and knew her way around far better than he did.

"The fountain is the closest. I'd as soon avoid the Caves if we can. There's just the two of us, and the drones, and I'd rather not risk running into a pack of Voormis or worse down there just now."

"But the Caves would take us near more allies..." Shael considered her options.

"Do we still want to go to Idvard at this time? If there are more like Ulricht here at the Academy, perhaps we should round them up, remind them of their Pacts and get them to help us restore order..."

"A tempting thought. One that has occurred to myself as well. But alas, no matter how many of the Pacts we raise...we're woefully outnumbered and out-maneuvered by the Privy Council and their allies. For now."

"Return when you are ready. In the meantime I and my compatriots and colleagues will make the intruders regret their folly and remember just why this place has endured for so long as a beacon in the midst of horror and apocalypse. We have been invaded and subverted before. We know what to do and we'll do it. Now that we have a Headmistress again."

"I am ashamed--"

"Hush Milady. You were lulled into vulnerability, misled and subverted by pleasant, well-measured words. The enemies of this place are legion and some are far more patient and subtle than others. Your vigilance could only endure so long. It was inevitable that you or one of your successors would fail, that is the nature of mortals and that is exactly why the Old Pacts were established. We'll buy you time enough to attend to your needs and prepare yourself and whatever forces you intend to call upon to re-take your rightful place. These are the worst of times for you, but they are the best of times for myself!"

"So do we head for this Fountain or leave through the Caves?" Bujilli considered picking up the Morlock's toothsome lash, but it hissed softly and slithered away from his fingers.

"I say we--"


What should Bujilli & Leeja do next?

You Decide!

---

* See Episode 6.

Which way should they go?

Exit One: The Fountain of Darkjean
Exit Two: The Red Tentacle Inn
Exit Three: The Caves (with mushrooms)
Option Four: Go someplace else. (Where?)

So, we have four options to consider and it is up to you, the readers just which way Bujilli and friends go next. If you want them to go in a different direction than one of the Exits suggested by Ulricht, then where do you think they ought to go? 

They certainly could go to Hedrard's Rooms, or Bujilli's room, or go looking for Mistress Eberhard...or somewhere else within the Academy. If that appeals to you more than heading off to Idvard's Keep, but wherever they go, Shael needs help and they might want to see about removing the curse that hinders her from being effective, and even if Idvard does not know how to remove the curse, he does know how to research things and find an answer.

Besides, Hedrard has been going through some changes of late...so we do not know how she'll deal with them now that she has returned to the Academy. It might be better to get Shael fixed-up before confronting the transformed Hedrard...or maybe She can remove the curse? But would she? At what cost? Hmmm...lots to consider.

Feel free to ask questions or to discuss the situation. I'll do my best to respond to comments in a timely manner.

Let me know what you think they ought to do in the comments below, or via email and we'll resume things next week!

What do they do next?
You Decide!

---

Previous                            Next

---

Series Indexes

One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six  |  Seven

---

Starting Page  |  Central Index

---

About Bujilli (What is This?) | Who is Bujilli? | How to Play

---

Bujilli's Character Sheet | Leeja's Character Sheet | Cast of Characters

Bujilli's Spells | Little Brown Journals | Loot Tally | House Rules

---

Episode Guides
Series One (Episodes 1-19)

Series Two (Episode 20-36)

Series Three (Episodes 37-49)

Series Four (Episodes 50-68)

Series Five (Episodes 69-99)
Series Six(Episodes 100 - 111)
Series Seven (112 - ongoing)

---

Labyrinth Lord   |   Advanced Edition Companion

Bujilli: Episode 112

Previously...
Hedrard, in her shiny new cocoon and accompanied by her entourage of Marching Morons has gone off to her rooms. The authentic Sprague has left. That old Rat-Tosser Putney has made his exit as well, leaving Ex-Headmistress Shael, Bujilli and Leeja behind in the shambles of what used to be the residence of Gnosiomandus with the bodies of four dead mercenaries scattered across the floor...

Shael coughed. A trickle of blood rand down her chin where her flesh melted into hazy glass. She struggled to get up off of the couch. Her quilt slipped out of her grasp, fell to the floor. Most of her left side was slowly crystallizing into some weird form of milky-glass. It was as elegantly grotesque as it was painful. And inconvenient. Leeja moved to help her aunt rise to her feet. At first she refused. Then she had to allow her niece to help her up.

"We're not going to get very far this way..." Leeja adjusted her grip.

"No. We're not." Shael closed her eyes as a spasm of pain jolted through her body.

"Before we worry about that...how did these mercenaries get here? I mean, how did they get all the way to Gnosiomandus' rooms without having to fight their way past whatever defenses or guards or wards there might be in this place?"

"Check the officer..." Shael made to gesture but stopped herself. She was already bleeding enough and they hadn't gotten started yet.

Bujilli hunkered down and looked over the corpse of the Tsalalian officer. The heavy over-coat looked shabby and worn in places, badly patched in others. Shael's spell had caved-in his chest, killing him instantly. His trench-pistol lay mere inches from his cold, dead fingers. The strange purplish gills wriggled slightly along the side of his neck. There were more of the growths along portions of his chest that protruded around the tatters of his uniform, harness and armor. It reeked of stale wine and cloves, which was better than the usual bowel contents and blood.

Then Bujilli saw it. A blue-enameled band around the officer's right fore-arm. He used his hand-axe to lift the dead man's arm to show off the device to the others.

"As I suspected; a Transition Mechanism. It was improperly attuned, otherwise they would have barged right into the room from wherever they came from, much as you yourself did when you first arrived." Shael grinned lop-sidedly at Bujilli.

"Can we use this?" He looked more closely at the band. It shimmered.

"Get Back!" Shael yelled hoarsely.

VLLLLLLLLIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP!

The corpse, most of it, was gone.

"No. I guess not. So do you have any suggestions for how we're supposed to get you to Idvard's place? I don't think that dragging you along on an improvised travois is going to work any too well..."

"No." Shael scowled at the thought of what such a jarring mode of travel might do to her.

"Urmigan. Do you know of a way that we can contact Urmigan?" Bujilli had the beginnings of an idea. It might even work. Maybe.

"Why would you want--"

"I should have some credit on account with Urmigan, if Idvard kept his word*. When I returned the amulet to him that controlled his drones, her promised to have Urmigan set aside a few drones for my use."

Shael started to nod. Stopped herself. Grimaced. Her right hand reached out and performed an almost calligraphic figure in the air before her. Three soft words wheezed from her clenched mouth. An ivory toad plopped onto the ruined carpet from somewhere else. It stared at her with gleaming topaz eyes.

"Take a message to Urmigan. His message." Shael waved to Bujilli; "Then guide them back to us."

The toad hopped in front of Bujilli and stared at him expectantly.

"Tell it what you want it to repeat for you. It will find Urmigan." Shael sank back down onto the couch with Leeja's help. It had been a minor spell, but it still taxed her.

Bujilli thought about what to say then just told the toad that he needed some sturdy drones to carry a grievously wounded friend back to Idvard's place. The toad solemnly nodded once then hopped away through the broken door and was gone.

Leeja and Bujilli set about rigging-together some sort of palanquin for Shael. something that the drones could carry and that would not jar or jostle her too badly.

It was amazing how empty the place was without all the books he remembered being heaped and mounded across the shelves and floors.

Gnosiomandus was gone. Everything had shifted, changed out from under him. He had come here to learn things he needed to know, to study new spells and refine his technique, to become a better spell-caster, a more powerful sorcerer.

He thought that meant enrolling in classes at the Academy.

But now he wasn't so sure.

In all the time he'd been here, he had not attended a single class.

But he had learned a few new spells. Made friends. And enemies.

He'd changed things, met and changed the lives of Sharisse, Gudrun, Idvard, and others...and Leeja. He'd changed himself. And this place, this Wermspittle, had changed as well.

"Scheiss!" Shael sat up abruptly, disregarding how much it hurt, or caused her to bleed; "We need to get out of here--"

"Congratulations. You've breached my defenses. Fat lot of good it will do you!" Gnosiomandus stood in the middle of the room. Lambent orange light smoldered around the edges of the image. It looked younger, better groomed and taller than the original.

Leeja and Bujilli helped Shael get on her feet and the three of them hobbled as fast as they could toward the ruined door.

WWWWHHHOOOMMMMPPPPFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF!

Golden flames swirled through the room, a turgid tempest of noise and fury signifying the former occupant's indignation at having his privacy violated.

They only just made it out the door before the flames roared forth.

"Putney had spoofed the wards so we could meet here. When he left, it was up to me to maintain the subterfuge, but I let them slip..." Shael looked more miserable than ever.

"We're fine. We got out in time. If anything, this will make it harder for anyone else to get much out of there..."

"And it ought to make following us a bit more difficult, at least remotely." Leeja quickly glanced down the hallway in both directions before nudging them forward in the direction of the Main Hall.

"Remotely?" Bujilli considered the prospect of being spied-upon at a distance. His Uncle had used several different such spells to explore deep dark places Bujilli could not reach easily as a child. He had used a spell that let him see what was happening miles away and across the great black sea, even on another world. All were based on Extra-Sensory Perception or some form of Clairvoyance. He himself knew the most basic form of a spell for both, but he'd not yet learned the more advanced forms his Uncle used. His hand slipped to his collar. Hedrard's Amulet**.

Did he want the hag knowing where he was, where he was going? They were...what? Friends? Allies? He wasn't entirely sure, not after their time in the Gormenstille and the drastic transformation Hedrard had undergone. She was an enigma to him now, floating inside a big red cocoon and attended by a tribe of Morons, some of whom spoke on Her behalf as though she were some little tyrant-goddess.

Perhaps she was. Now. Maybe she always had been and he never realized it.

There was a lot about this place he did not know.

They reached a marble staircase and Bujilli was jarred from his thoughts as they focused on assisting Shael down one painful step after another.

It wasn't ideal, not by a long shot, but they all three felt the need to keep moving.

The Main Hall was empty.

Their steps echoed.

"Where is everyone?" He was taken aback. He only ever saw this place when it had been packed with people hustling and bustling past one another on their way to classrooms, lecture halls or wherever.

"Ah. Fresh meat." A Morlock in antique banded-mail dropped down in front of them. He wielded a jagged-edged hacker's blade, some sort of basket-less airship-men's cutlass in his right-hand and a toothsome lash in his off-hand.

SSSSSSSSnnaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaakt!

The lash bit Bujilli on the cheek, drawing blood.

"We have no argument with you--"

"Piss off pretty-pretty. My children are hungry and with Winter coming in early and sharp, a father's got to do what needs to be done to provide for them."

Bujilli tugged at his hand-axe--TTTTHHHHWWWIIIIIIIPT!

The lash stung his hand. He jerked it away. Blood spattered onto the marble floors.

Leeja pulled Shael back to give Bujilli more room. Shael groaned in agony.

"Shame you haven't much meat on you hairy-barry. But you'll do for a start." The lash streaked out once more. Bujilli almost ducked aside. Instead he grabbed the lash. Teeth interspersed along the length of the thing bit into his hand. More blood flew from his punctured flesh. He gritted his own teeth against the pain--it was intense--and drew forth his hand-axe.

The Morlock slyly loosened the lash, flipped it to one side, rudely jerked it back nearly taking off one or more of Bujilli's fingers with it.

"Stop this. Don't you know who this is?" Leeja pointed at Shael incredulously.

"Do you interview the cattle you eat? I don't much care if it's that bitch Shael herself--you're all three meat for the pot."

"Idiot! This IS Shael."

The Morlock held back his next strike of the lash to look more closely at Shael.

Bujilli split his skull with the hand-axe.

"In the flesh." He wrenched his weapon free from the Morlock's head.

"The Old Covenants are null and void until someone takes my place and renews the pacts and restores things..."

"And someone has been chosen to handle this matter, right?"

"I...do not know. After the Privy Council punished me, I was sent away. I have no idea of what happened afterward, nor what the Regents, those left of them, are doing or have opted to do. The Senior Staff are scattered, some dead or imprisoned, others have left..."

"So everything goes down in flames while you all bicker and argue?"

"For the most part, the answer is yes.Maybe one of them will play the violin..." Shael sagged and would have fallen to the floor if Leeja hadn't steadied her.

"That's not entirely true and you know it." A voice roared from above.

"Ulricht. You are still here?" Shael sounded incredulous. It was some sort of hunchback or dwarf in chain-mail riding on a Dodo. Both sported elaborately plumed head-gear, but only the bird's included a bit fitted to its beak and reins.

"I remain. I endure much. The old pacts are not so fragile as you would believe." The figure spurred the plump bird forward and it hopped atop a rail then jumped down before them, its silver-shod talons scittering slightly across the marble tiles before it regained its balance.

"But...I have been removed from my position--"

"Really? Truly? And yet I remain. How is that possible, hmmm?"

"The Privy Council--"

"Have no real authority in this place." He nodded to emphasize his disdain for such interlopers.

"Then..."

"Don't dwell on it over-much madam." A tall, thin figure wrapped head-to-toe in cerulean blue velvet and black silk stepped out from a section of wall that held no door. "It was merely a simple oversight. One I am here to correct."

The ivory toad burbled something untranslatable from atop the rail. There were some spindly-looking drones stood in a line directly behind it waiting for orders...


What should Bujilli & Leeja do next?

You Decide!

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* See Episode 49.
**Presented to Bujilli in Episode 26.

What to do, what to do?

First we need to roll Initiative for 1) Bujilli, 2) Leeja, 3) Shael, 4) Ulricht, 5) The Gauntling, 6) The Ivory Toad.

Second, if someone would be so kind as to roll 2d4 to determine how many drones were sent along with the Toad, that'd be much appreciated. 

Thirdly, could use a few d20 rolls. Because well, impending violence. Or something.

Then you the readers determine what Bujilli and his friends do next. Should they attack the Gauntling? Seek to evade them or run away? Order the drones to attack? Cast a spell? (which one?) Or should they try to parley with the would-be assassin?

Let me know in the comments below, or via email and we'll resume things next week!

What do they do next?
You Decide!

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Previous                            Next

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Series Indexes

One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six  |  Seven

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Starting Page  |  Central Index

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About Bujilli (What is This?) | Who is Bujilli? | How to Play

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Bujilli's Character Sheet | Leeja's Character Sheet | Cast of Characters

Bujilli's Spells | Little Brown Journals | Loot Tally | House Rules

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Episode Guides
Series One (Episodes 1-19)

Series Two (Episode 20-36)

Series Three (Episodes 37-49)

Series Four (Episodes 50-68)

Series Five (Episodes 69-99)
Series Six(Episodes 100-ongoing)

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Labyrinth Lord   |   Advanced Edition Companion