Buildar - Episode 20

Buildarmageddon Part Two (Mike GM - 3/22/09)

The Architect of Lord Crimson’s Doom
Red Stonehammer was once on top of the world. Literally. This is a dwarf who somehow constructed an island that floated in the sky. He was Lord Crimson’s chief architect. A dwarf who make his lord’s wonderous vision of the world come to life.

And now he found himself digging a hole in the ground. And the man who was making him do it was far scarier than Crimson ever hoped of being.

The Scary Man Scares An Old Man
Tomleey stands over Saredawn as he sleeps peacefully in his sewer.

“Hello, my master’s master.”

Saredawn wakes up and screams.

“It is an honor.” Tomleey bows… but only slightly. He already has a master after all.

Saredawn is trying to catch his breath, “You little shit! You could have killed me in my sleep!”

“Obviously,” Tomleey replies.

“I meant ‘cause I’m old!”

Tomleey thinks on this for a moment, as if he hadn’t considered it.

“What do you want Tomleey?”

“I came because Dareth is missing. He’s been missing, for some time. I want to know what you are going to do about that.”

“What I’m going to do? I already told Dareth that he was messing with things far above his head.”

“An island, to be precise,” Tomleey retorts.

“Yes, an island. And I gave him the keys to that island. He had that disturbing ankle slayer plant a point on the island. But as far as I can tell he never used it, but I heard the island is gone, so it doesn’t matter now.”

“The island is not gone,” Tomleey says with previously unseen malice. “And that’s the problem.”

Saredawn just wants to go back to sleep. Dareth’s personal assistant is scaring the shit out of him, and it doesn’t feel good. He already sleeps in a sewer.

“But tell me more about this, “point” on the island,” Tomleey says, his voice returning to its normal cheerfulness.

Saredawn gathers himself, maybe this will rid the little shit of his sewer. “Well I have the other point here in my bag of holdin-”

Tomleey lunges and throws both of them through the point as soon as Saredawn reveals it.

The Architect’s Greatest Success
Grumbling along, the architect wipes sweat from his brow and wonders where Lord Tomleey, King of the Prison Bunker is. He’s never gone this long, perhaps this would be a chance to…

“Keep digging,” The Lady says.

“Oh, I’m sorry miss, I, uh… wait, aren’t you hear to save me?”

The Lady of Red lowers her crossbow slightly and raises one eyebrow about the same. “Save you? I’ll shoot you where you stand you don’t get this project finished before Tomleey gets back. Frankly I have less patience than he does… it has been three months, architect.”

“Oh it’s you,” The Architect turns and goes back to work, “Had you confused with someone else, Queen Thedra.”

Thedra lowers the weapon and sits in her makeshift throne. It’s cute, what Tomleey has concocted, but not for her. She longs to be back with her people. A people that’s tragedy that began with the birth of her half-sister and has followed the family all the way to Buildar, where a large group of elves died in The Battle of Buildar. But Thedra believes in Tomleey, and knows that their is work to be done. Though it won’t be done for her once Dareth returns, no, she seeks something a bit more final. A bit more satisfying.

Her sister’s death.

“I think I’ve got something,” The Architect says. After months of work, it appears as if finally the design has worked. A route has been dug to a Buildar of old.
The Buildar before the island crashed on top of it, wiping it and its people from existence.

The Architect checks the beams and sees that the support is there, in fact he can reach in and…

Then something weird happens. The Architect sees a reflection of himself.

“Red?” the reflection says.

“Fell?” the architect can’t believe it.

The two brothers embrace. “I thought you were dead!” each exclaim to the other. “No!” the other replies. “I was just captured by Carrion/Asmodeus!”

They both begin to laugh and then Red sees them. “Wait who is that?”

Two arrows go through the dwarven architects heads.

“What the hell did you do that for?!” A voice cries.

“They had played their parts,” Werric says as he tosses the hand crossbow. “And I’m playing mine. These little bastards have fucked with my town long enough. I’m the goddamn sheriff of this town, and I’ve got work to do.”

Our heroes have made it out of hell, and they’ve brought agents of hell with them.

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