# The Knights of Tantras: Assassins



## Cobra Commander (Sep 13, 2006)

This is a quick adventure recap I wrote for a game a while back.  If it entertains people, I will post some more.  





Oslo slumbered peacefully in his bed, a lovely chambermaid curled in his embrace.  Suddenly, his eyes snapped open, as a premonition of danger shivered through him.  In one smooth motion, he rolled out of bed and grabbed his mighty greatsword, Crippler.  In the moonlit dimness, he did not see the blade that was driven into his back.  With a cry of pain and rage, he spun about to face a shadowy form holding two bared knives, one of which was dripping with Oslo’s blood.  His cry awoke the maid, who screamed piercingly as she clutched the blankets to her chest.  The masked assassin, with a casual flick of his wrist, hurled his dagger through the darkness and into her throat.  Her screams turned to gurgles as she drowned in her own blood.  With his other blade, the assassin wove a dizzying array of slashes that slipped through Oslo’s guard like a fish through water.  Oslo staggered away, bleeding profusely.  His greatsword held futilely before him in one hand, Oslo grabbed up a small onyx cube from his nightstand and vanished in a faint pop.  
Meanwhile, the rest of the Knights of Tantras, awoken by the shouts, blearily stumbled out of their rooms and saw the two men assigned to guard Oslo’s door slumped against the wall with rivers of red drenching their shirts. Three more men-at-arms rushed into Oslo’s room.  Alexov the Ranger charged bravely into the room to aid his companion, not knowing that Oslo had already fled via the Cube of Teleportation.  Wearing nothing except his rings and his blades, Alexov burst through the bedroom door, only to be attacked from both sides by his former guards.  
Seeing the room empty except for the three guardsmen and confused by the sudden betrayal by his once loyal men, Alexov retreated outside the door and rejoined the rest of the Knights who were just arriving.  Cort, the one-time blade singer, peered through the doorway over the shoulders of two of his companions.  As he prepared to cast a mystical dweomer at the treacherous guards, two blades spun from the doorway and plunged into him, one in each shoulder.  The blades themselves left little more than small cuts, but the virulent poison coating them dropped Cort to his knees, clutching his chest.  Emitting a strangled cry, Cort’s face turned a ghastly shade of purple.  Within seconds of being wounded, he spasmed a final time and his last breath rattled from his lungs.  The three guards charged through the doorway, nimbly evaded the blades of the Knights guarding the door, leapt over the railing and floated down the stairwell, 
In the basement chapel of Claggadin, Oslo appeared with a sibilant rush of displaced air.  The bushy browed priest burst out of his sleeping chambers at Oslo’s bellowed cry.  After quaffing two potions and receiving three healing spells from Claggadin, Oslo coated his greatsword with scorpion poison and prepared to go to the aid of his comrades upstairs, not yet realizing that he was the sole target of this midnight attack.  As he made his way up the spiral staircase from the basement to the ground floor, the body of the guard posted at the top tumbled past Oslo.  Quickly downing a potion of invisibility, Oslo prepared to ambush his would be attacker.  
The masked assassin silently made his way down the stairs and immediately spotted Oslo, despite his invisibility.  The assassin leapt down the remaining steps and slashed Oslo once, before springing back to the top of the stairs.  With a bellow of rage and fear, Oslo rushed up after him, desperately swinging his greatsword.  
Meanwhile, the fleet-footed monk Nobowaki vaulted over the stairway railing and chased the former guards.  As Alexsov thundered down the stairs, Nobowaki’s keen ears picked up Oslo’s shouts echoing up from the basement.  Both Knights charged the chapel entrance and swung open the secret door at the top of the stairs.  They rushed to aid Oslo, who was locked in mortal combat with the assassin.  Nobowaki launched a flurry of punches and kicks, but the assassin casually evaded each one without even turning his attention from Oslo.  Alexsov, seeing the inhuman speed at which his opponent moved, gambled that the assassin was some sort of undead, such as a vampire.  He whirled his blade over his head, producing the bright glow of daylight.   The brilliant light had no effect on the intruder, other than to make him squint his eyes a bit.  Oslo managed but one desperate attack, which missed by mere inches, before the black-clad figure lashed out with blinding speed and stabbed Oslo four times.  Oslo looked down at his perforated chest in stunned disbelief for a few seconds as his lifeblood pumped out in red gouts, until his eyes rolled up and he fell backwards.  Oslo’s corpse rolled down the stairs, landing with a final thud atop the dead guardsman who had tumbled past just seconds ago.  
The rest of the Knights realized that this attack was directed solely at Oslo.  Nobowaki rushed around the assassin and down the stairs.  He snatched up Oslo’s massive body while still on the run and fled through the heavy double doors leading into the Chapel proper.  Once inside, he unceremoniously dumped Oslo’s corpse on the ground and barred the stout doors.  Without missing a beat, the assassin gave chase. He sprinted straight through the wall, his body phasing through it like a ghost, and into the Chapel. With a flurry of blows, the killer drove a surprised Nobowaki back, grabbed Oslo’s body and fled through the wall, past Alexov, and up the stairs.  
Alexsov and Nobowaki gave chase, charging up the stairs and out the front door.  The three guards, who had fled outside earlier, gave up their attempts to remove their bulky chain mail and intercepted the pursuing Knights.  While the guards engaged the Knights in a furious melee, their leader sprinted off into the darkness with Oslo’s hulking body slung easily over his shoulder.  The one-time guardsmen, having given their master sufficient time to flee, turned and sprinted into the darkness, leaving one of their number dead on the ground.  
The dispirited Knights gathered up their gear and prepared to go to the Temple of Torm with one dead assassin and many questions.


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## Moab2 (Sep 13, 2006)

I, for one, would love to read more. Very fast paced and exciting. Thanks for posting it.


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