Pre-dawn, Readying 20, 591

Drago and his team search for treasure and clues to the Immortal King. Humans who venture here may be bled and fed to the Thing That Should Not Be.

The next morning, Shaman G’ruk calls Drago in to see him in his tent. Igusadon, Iguanosuth, and Kopusuth are already there when he arrives. They are all armed and ready. Nearby, are the two Deathwalkers. They have been washed and bandaged and are now conscious, though bound. They say nothing and only stare grimly into the distance.

“Drago, you are fast earning my trust. I have another vital task for you to perform. Come with me, all of you, and bring the slaves.”

All of them exit the tent. Iguanosuth leads the bound slaves by a rope. They come to the edge of the river. G’ruk points out the dark cavern out of which the river issues and says, “There is a treasure vault located by a pool at the end of that cavern. You must swim to it, and under the spider web that blocks the cavern. We do feed the giant spider there, but not this time. These slaves are food for something else. In the pool is a guardian beast. It has already killed five of our warriors and prevented us from discovering what is in that treasure vault. It may be a clue to the whereabouts of the Immortal King, or to the means to awaken him. I have learned that if we ‘cast the blood of man upon the troubled waters’ we will be able pacify the guardian beast long enough to get to the vault. Here you have two slaves, one to pacify the beast so you can get into the vault, and another to pacify him once more, if necessary, when you leave. And this time, Drago, I think it should be you who does the offering. Take them with you, make sure they don’t drown. You only need swim underwater to slip beneath the spider’s web. When you get to the pool, choose one, draw blood, and push him into the center of the pool and then make your way to the vault. It must be you, Drago, who does this. You must show us that you will do what needs to be done to awaken the Immortal King.”

Igusadon replies, “It shall be as you say. Come Drago, let us find this vault and see what there is to see, and find what we need to realize our destiny.”

Iguanosuth pushes the bound slaves into the river and follows after. They gasp at the cold shock of the water and because their hands are bound behind them they must kick fiercely to stay afloat. Iguanosuth enters the water and tugs the line holding the captives. Igusadon motions for Drago to gather his weapons and gear and enter the water next.

Drago has no compunction about sacrificing the mutual enemies of the Malarat and Keolanders to aid his mission to find the Immortal King. Drago smiles with big teeth at this task and obeys happily.

The entrance to the mouth of the cavern out of which the underground river runs is about 40’ away from the riverbank. The tunnel itself is about 10’ and they are able to swim against the current into the darkness with their heads out of the water. Igusadon holds up an ever-burning torch to lead them. Fortunately the magical light cannot be extinguished by water. They swim about 70’ when the cavern widens into rocky banks on either side of the river. Here an immense spider web stretches across the cavern just above the waters. It is connected to the walls and ceilings and even the rocks on the sandy banks on either side of this section of the cavern. Drago looks up and sees that connected to the ceiling is a large leather sack of spider silk, quivering and pulsing as though whatever is inside is struggling to escape. Then in a recess in the ceiling near the sack Drago sees in the dim light of the ever-burning torch a huge monstrous spider, with a body larger than a horse. The humans groan in dismay when they see it.

Igusadon snaps at them in broken Common, “Not for them… for something else. Hold breath!” With that, Igusadon dives under the waters and begins swimming beneath the web.

The others follow, Iguanosuth tugging the line and dragging the Deathwalkers beneath with him. They surface some 15’ beyond the web, the Deathwalkers coughing and sputtering as they are towed behind the lizardfolk. Some 40’ beyond the web, the cavern curves to the left and on the left side is a small strip of damp earth, about 5’ wide and 30’ long. Igusadon leads them to it and they leave the river. This is a relief as it was hard going swimming against the current of the river. It seemed that for every two feet they swam they were pushed back by one.

Igusadon moves to the cavern wall and pushes against it. A section of the wall moves back and then slides aside revealing a narrow tunnel. At just that moment a loud splash is heard from upriver, as though something very large had burst to the surface.

“Quick, Drago! Offer the first sacrifice!” shouts Igusadon. Iguanosuth cuts the line holding the captives, though their hands are still bound. He pushes one of them over to Drago.

“Cut him and throw him to the beast!” Kopusuth hisses.

Soundtrack: The Thing That Should Not Be by Metallica

At that moment, two large tentacles snake out of the darkness of the cavern beyond and begin reaching out for the group gathered on the riverbank. In the shadowy light cast by the torch the shape of more tentacles can be seen waving in the darkness beyond and in their midst the glint of a large and very malevolent eye.

The Deathwalkers had been stoic up to this point, though they expressed dismay at the sight of the monstrous spider. The sight of this new monstrosity takes them far past their breaking point. The two began crying, howling, and finally they break down into hysteria fueled laughter as the final bits and pieces of their sanity are torn away by this manifestation of a primordial horror that should not be and yet reaches out for them in the tenebrous gloom of this forsaken underground river.

Drago grabs the human closest to him and quickly uses his claw to slice open the main artery at his throat to minimize his suffering and maximize him as a tasty treat. Drago then flings him toward the monster in the water and follows the others through the secret door.

The narrow tunnel turns out to only be 5’ long. It opens up into a very damp 15’ square vault carved out of the stone. The walls are painted with images of huge fanged mouths. Dark stains along the floor lead into another narrow yet smoother cut hall at the other end of the vault that leads out of the room. In the dim torchlight it appears that hall ends after almost 20’ and opens out into the pool that is the source of the underground river and the home of the guardian beast. A constant gurgling of water can be heard from there.  Against the wall to the left are three wooden chests, a large one flanked by two smaller one. The small box to the right of the large box is open and empty. The other two boxes are still closed and have purple wax seals on them. Mysteriously, none of the boxes are damp or rotten. It is as though they have been magically preserved by the strange energies of the caverns beneath Thracia.

Igusadon says, “Shaman G’ruk sent a party of warriors here before. As he said, five warriors were lost. They only had time to open the small box before the guardian attacked. The one who got away brought back some kind of poison that Shaman G’ruk will use for the defense of the tribe. Unfortunately that warrior died of his wounds before he could say much more about what they found here. Now we must find a way to open these other boxes and hope the guardian is pleased with our offering and does not return. If he does, we will offer it this other one.”

Drago twitches his nose from the musty dampness, then pulls out his club, “Shall we smash the chests open?”

“Yes,” replies Igusadon. “Unless you have learned the human art of picking their locks in the short time you have been among them?” he asks rhetorically. “Never mind the club though. Stand back, I’ll attend to this.” Igusadon then brings out his morningstar.

Kopusuth then steps before him, “Wait. I must see if there are any poisons we should beware of.”

Kopusuth then crouches down and begins murmuring invocations to the spirits. Abruptly he jumps up and moves back.

“There is no poison, but there are spirits here. I do not know if they are malevolent, but…” he cast his eyes at the fanged mouths pained all over the walls of the vault, “my guess is that they are not friendly.”

“Is there anything you can do?” asks Igusadon.”

Kopusuth shrugs and shows his empty palms, “I have no power as yet to deal with such spirits. Maybe someday, but not know. I am sorry.”

Drago grunts but has nothing to add. Club in hand still, he keeps one eye peeled down the corridor to watch for the thing that should not be and the other eye on the chests.

Igusadon says, “Then we will deal with it as best we can. There is no turning back now.” He then smashes open the small chest with his morningstar.

Immediately a disembodied spectral maw with sharp teeth appears in the air and tries to clamp down on Igusadon’s arm. Kopusuth was expecting such an attack and had his spear ready, but the disembodied mouth is too fast to stab. Igusadon is an experienced warrior, however, and he bats it away with his morning star, smashing in several teeth and causing it to fly away right into the claws of Iguanosuth. The latter tears it apart and it evaporates into nothing. The Deathwalker stumbles back into the wall of the vault and then sits down too shocked to even scream.

Igusadon shrugs, “Not so tough.” He then kicks the broken chest over and out of it spills a finely made dagger with a solid garnet hilt, and a potion with a label in an unknown language.

Igusadon looks to Drago, “Well, do you have any skill at detecting magic?”

Drago nods in assent and says, “Magio rivelighu!” After a few moments Drago discerns faint magical emanations coming from the dagger and the potion, and two more feint emanations of magic coming from within the large chest. Unfortunately his training with Aramek never extended to Spellcraft, and so he is unable to figure out what schools of magic are involved.

After reflecting Drago says, “Yes, both the dagger and the potion have a feint glow of magic about them, plus there are two magic items in the large chest as well. However I don’t know what kind of magic they possess.”

Drago then makes a slow turn to look around the room to check for more magic. He looks at the walls, the roof, the floor, down the tunnels, at the human, as well as at his compatriots. He finds nothing else magical in the room itself, though the leather scale armor the other lizardfolk are wearing and the healing potions they carry with them do register as magical to Drago’s spell.

Igusadon nods, “Good. Let’s open the other one then.” He then smashes the lock of the other chest with his morningstar. After hitting it four times he smashes the lid in and is able to pull the pieces off. As soon as he does so another fanged mouth rushes out of the chest. This time Kopusuth manages to stab the mouth with his spear, and Igusadon again bats the mouth away with his morningstar.

Since the appearance of the first spectral maw Drago has been wondering if they are some kind of undead. So, with his club still in his right hand, Drago points his left claw to the maw and says, “Disrompu nemortajhon!” Unfortunately spectral maw is hard to track and the white ray of positive energy misses it.

The flying fangs then clamp down on Igusadon’s weapon arm. It immediately disappears, leaving a bloody painful wound. Igusadon drops his morning-star and holds his arm tight to stop the bleeding.

Kopusuth comes forward to heal him but before he can a loud bubbling and splashing is heard from the pool outside the smooth cut hall. The guardian beast has returned, and it sends half-a-dozen tentacles down through the hall and into the vault. This time they can see that each tentacle is tipped with a single unblinking eye. The waving tentacle-eyes peer at the lizardfolk and the remaining Deathwalker. One tentacle immediately wraps itself around the shrieking Deathwalker and jerks him out of sight up the tunnel, but the other five eyes glare down at the lizardfolk and it is evident that they may attack any second.

Kopusuth grabs Igusadon’s arm and heals it as he does. “We must run, we cannot fight this and I do not think it is satisfied with our offerings,” he hisses.

Before a decision can be made, tentacles begin darting in at them. Iguanosuth lashes out at them with his two handed flail, but the tentacles dodge away from his blow. Then the tentacles start raking Igusadon and Inguanosuth, leaving horrifying lacerations with as they rip away scales and flesh with their suckers.

At the same time, the spectral maw appears again, and once more begins diving at Igusadon. It even appears a bit larger and stronger (for a disembodied mouth) than it did before. Kopusuth tries to stab it with his spear, but finds this a very difficult thing to do amidst the pandemonium in the vault.

Drago realizes that he could easily grab the magical dagger and potion from the small box and flee through the narrow tunnel back to the river, leaving the others to their fate while bringing back at least part of the treasure to G’ruk.

Drago wants to get out of there, but not without the magic treasure. Acrobatically dancing around the other lizards and monsters, Drago grabs the garnet dagger and the potion, then pulls off the remnants of the smashed lid of the big chest and takes whatever is in there. (If he needs an extra hand, Drago will hurl his club at the thing which should not be.) Then he yells at the others as he runs toward the way they entered, “Let’s get out of here!” He keeps the dagger in his hand to use if need be.

The tentacles continue to batter Igusadon and Iguanosuth, and the flying fangs continue trying to bite the former. Kopusuth reaches out and touches Igusadon to provide healing to him. Strengthened Igusadon manages to strike one of the tentacles, but does no more than bruise it.

Drago peers into the large chest and sees that there is a finely made sword, a shield decorated with silver and platinum tracery along with inlaid carnelians, a silver mirror, an iron axe studded with green glass and jade, a gold brooch, and a solid obsidian anklet with intricate inlaid designs, as well as perhaps ten bags of coins. His spell to detect magic has already faded and it would take too long to fire it up again, but from their placement, Drago guesses that it was the sword and shield that registered as magical. He has time to grab those and either run or use them against the tentacles.

Drago is interested in the other objects, but for now, he picks up the sword and shield and engages the thing that should not be by trying to cut off its tentacles. He succeeds in cutting one of them off, just as Iguanosuth and Igusadon finally succeed in damaging the limbs flailing against them. Then Igusadon roars again in rage as the floating mouth again clamps down on his arm and then flies away. Kopusuth stabs it with his spear but it is not a lethal blow. The disembodied mouth swoops down again for another strike even as all but one of the tentacles finally withdraw from the room and the creature in the pool begins to submerge. The last remaining tries to wrap itself around Iguanosuth to take him with it, but he nimbly steps aside and wraps his flail around it and with a mighty tug rips the tentacle apart. A loud roar is heard from the pool and the remains of that limb withdraw. Drago then destroys the spectral maw with a swipe of his sword, catching it before it could fade out again. It’s teeth clatter on the floor of the vault. Except for the heavy breathing of the lizardfolk, all is calm once more.

Drago grunts in satisfaction, attaches the sword to his belt, and utters, “Magio rivelighu!” as he goes back to inspecting the treasure. The shield and sword were indeed the two magical items in the large chest.

Igusadon looks upon Drago with new respect in his eyes. “You may have just saved us all Drago! You could have run out of here while taking what you could, and left us for dead. Know that I will be sure you get a proper share of this treasure. For now, though, we should get out of here before that thing or something else attacks. Let’s move this chest out to the river and we’ll float it back to the camp. Drago, can you use your magic to burn a whole through the lower part of the web, so the chest won’t get stuck in it? The spider won’t be happy about it, but we’ll move through quickly enough that it won’t be able to do anything about it.”

“Sure,” says Drago as he winks at Igusadon. “My mage’s hand should work to open a hole in the spider’s web, but certainly a glob of acid will do the job if not.”

The plan works out well, the dagger, potion, sword, and shield are all put into the large chest, and the whole thing is dragged back out to the river through the narrow tunnel. It floats well enough, though Drago finds the spider’s web too taut to move with his Mage Hand and does have to resort to coughing up a ball of acidic phlegm to burn a hole for the chest to float through. The monstrous spider chitters in rage but does not try to stop them. The chest floats by too quickly and the spider knows it cannot reach the lizardfolk when they have dived beneath the surface. Before long they reach the lizardfolk encampment and between the four of them they are able to drag it into G’ruk’s hut. G’ruk is very pleased.

“You have done very well!” he hisses.

“We have Drago to thank for our success,” reports Igusadon. “He sacrificed both humans but the guardian beast attacked us anyway. Then while we tried to hold it off, Drago took up this sword and shield, but instead of running off, he attacked the creature and cut off one of its limbs. That turned the tide of the battle, and we were able to drive it and some of the other guardians of the treasure away. Iguanosuth and Kopusuth also fought bravely. I commend them all.”

G’ruk nods, and then hands Igusadon and Iguanosuth a potion each from Drago’s bandolier. “You two look like you need these. Drink them and rest. In the meantime, I will look through these things and then call you all back to reward you for your courage and selfless service to the Malarat. Drago, you have earned our trust. Go now and rest. I will call you all back later.”

A couple of hours later, G’ruk calls them all back to his tent. Igusadon and Iguanosuth are both fully healed of the wounds inflicted upon them by the guardian beast and the spectral mouths.

“Unfortunately, there were no further clues as to the location of the Immortal King. But the bags were filled with silver and this treasure will help us pay for further supplies from King Stronghoen and others who would trade with us in the Underdark; but there is enough here to reward you for your labors and assist you in the trials ahead. Drago, I bestow upon you the sword and the shield that you used to battle the guardian beast to save your comrades and bring back this treasure for the Malarat. Please come forward.”

G’ruk then hands the sword and the shield to Drago. “Use them well in the service of the Malarat and all lizardfolk, and someday, in the service of the Immortal King.” Drago can now see that the shield, while certainly functional, is itself a work of art, as it is decorated with silver and platinum traceries and 70 carnelians encrusting the surface.

G’ruk proceeds to bestow the magical dagger with the solid garnet hilt upon Igusadon. An iron axe studded with green glass and jade is given to Iguanosuth. Kopusuth receives the potion, a potion of invisibility as it turns out, and two more cure moderate wound potions and two gravebane grenades from Drago’s bandolier. Kopusuth now has a total of four of the cure moderate wound potions that were originally Drago’s.

G’ruk thanks them all and dismisses them until such time as he has further need of their services. “Drago, stay with the others, but if you wish you may go with some of your brother warriors to the swamp or even visit Huvat Vex. Don’t not go anywhere alone. It would not be safe for you.”

Drago raises his eyebrows, “Huvat Vex? Yes, I would love to visit Huvat Vex, Shaman G’ruk.”

Evening, Readying 19

Here Drago and his new comrades enjoy a sumptuous feast of dead Deathwalker. Yummy. Drago learns about the nature of magic amongst his people and a jaw dropping revelation about his destiny, if he lives so long.

That evening a great feast is had. Drago sees Trakoadon and some other warriors that Drago knows are sitting together speaking. Igusadon, Iguanosuth, Kopusuth and the others are sitting in another group. The rest of the lizardfolk are from different clans and so Drago does not recognize them.

Drago has met Trakoadon before (the first one he met) and the others, he knows by face but not name.

Drago looks around the room and breathes deep the delicious aroma of fresh meat. He walks over to Igusadon, Iguanosuth and Kopusuth and says, “Greetings great warriors. May I join you?”

As he sits, Drago is handed a spit of roasted Deathwalker. Lizardfolk females soon bring him a large banana leaf with rice and fish and some roots and spices. The lizardfolk diet is pretty simple however, and mostly carnivorous.

Igusadon says to him, “You well deserve this share of the meat. You did well out there. I am glad that more lizardfolk, such as you, are joining us everyday, awakening to our true destiny. Emissaries have even been sent out to other tribes, to gather all who will listen. Soon we will find the Immortal King and will have no need of those giggling fools the gnolls or their bone-headed master King Stronghoen. Then we will leave these caves and rule all under the sun once more.”

“Thank you, Igusadon, it’s always a pleasure to kill Deathwalkers,” replies Drago as he slurps on the meat. “May I ask how many lizardfolk have joined our glorious cause to find the Immortal King?”

Igusadon thinks a moment and then says, “We have maybe twelve hands of warriors,” by which he means 60, “though most of them are down below in Huvat Vex acting as mercenary guards for King Stronghoen. I have no doubt that you’ll eventually have to take your
turn down there as well.”

Drago grunts agreement, farts, and then says, “Good. I came to seek the Immortal King.” After a brief pause Drago adds, “So what kind of reptile do YOU think he is?” Leaning forward, “I believe he is a Copper Dragon. Any sign of dragons down there?”

Igusadon and the others are a bit taken aback by this. Then Kopusuth speaks up, “I am afraid you are thinking too small Drago. You are undoubtedly thinking of your illustrious ancestor, Kopep. He is no doubt an adult dragon by now, hundreds of years old. But the Immortal King we seek was the ruler of a lizardfolk empire thousands of years in the past. If Shaman G’ruk’s dreams are true, the Immortal King has found a way to sleep through the ages so that he can return to us when the stars are right. As it has been said by some human lore masters, ‘That is not dead which can eternal lie/and with strange eons even death may die.’”

Drago murmurs thoughtfully to himself, “Perhaps he is Kopep’s grandfather? Hmmm…” He seems to tune out for a moment, then focuses again on Igusadon’s words, “So the Immortal King is a giant lizardfolk? Or some ancestral lizard kind?” Drago stops, blushes and says, “Yes, I think too much.”

Kopusuth shrugs, “Shaman G’ruk has only told us that the Immortal King was the greatest of the lizardfolk in the time before the rise of the mammalian hordes. He was no dragon, but one of us. So yes, I suppose you could say he is a great ancestor.”

Drago belches, shrugs and replies, “Kopep lived amongst our people as one of us. He was not in the form of a dragon when he did so. He was lizardfolk.  He is one of us. He is my flesh and bones.” After a brief pause, Drago leans forward again, “Anyway, tribal lore says that Kopep came from around here somewhere, just like the Immortal King. Any signs of dragons down in Huvat  Vex?”

Kopusuth shakes his head in the negative, “No, we have seen no sign of any dragons. I think that is a good thing. They are very unpredictable and their ways are unfathomable.”

Drago nods his head, then after a moment says looking at Kopusuth, “On a different subject, I am curious about the nature of magic amongst our people. I wasn’t interested in such things when I lived with the Malarat, but now… well, things have changed.”

Kopusuth laughs and then says, “You are still among the Malarat – among the smart ones – and not the toadies who stayed to lick the behinds of the unscaled. But yes, I will gladly tell you of our magical traditions.”

Kopusuth then proceeds to tell Drago about how the shamans of the lizardfolk are not all the same. Some come by their power through dreams and natural talent. Shaman G’ruk is a shaman like this, able to draw upon both the divine and arcane powers of the multiverse. Others, like Drago, are born to arcane magic. Among the lizardfolk, this is usually due to dragons like Kopep coming to mate with lizardfolk females, though there are other heritages that are more sinister in nature, as devils and demons have sometimes come among them as well to corrupt them. Finally, there are those who gain their power solely through prayer to Semuanya the patron god of the lizardfolk; or, in Kopusuth’s own case, communion with the spirits of the natural world.

Drago laughs as well, “Thank you Shaman Kopusuth. Have you noticed any other copper spotted descendents among the ‘smart ones’ gathered in Thracia?”

Kopusuth says, “No, there are not. In fact, Drago, you are the only hatchling in this generation to show signs of Kopep’s legacy. If you continue to grow into your power then Shaman G’ruk will have no choice but to acknowledge you as his successor. It is the way of our people. Of course it is also the way of our people that you could challenge him at any time in a contest of either riddles or power, but I would not recommend that – at least not until such time as you have imbibed all our lore from Shaman G’ruk, plumbed the wisdom of the Malarat, and become certain of your own power. Even then, until you receive dreams from the Immortal King, you will not be able to lead us to our rightful destiny.”

Drago’s jaw drops open, speechless. He tries to speak but only stutters. Finally he composes himself and says simply, “Oh crap.”

Here ends volume 5 of “Against the Scarlet Sign.“

Readying 19, a Morning Hunt for Deathwalker Slaves

Other than dealing with the unsavory topics of human slavery and humans as food, this post may be read by other player characters without giving away any secrets.

Drago sleeps like a log in his tent after the doings of the day before. In the morning, he is summoned once again to see Shaman G’ruk. When he enters the tent he sees that Igusadon, Iguanosuth, and Kopusuth are there with two additional lizardfolk warriors armed with atlatls (javelin throwers) and clubs as well as turtle shell shields. They are introduced to Drago as Atraboros and Marvorax.

“You helped us find the Keolanders yesterday, but due to carelessness,” he glances at Igusadon who stiffens, “you were sighted and had to flee. The Keolanders left, for the gnoll patrols could not find them last night after scouring the city. It is believed they returned to the jungle. They are no longer my concern. King Stronghoen can worry about them now. In the meantime I have another mission for you. I require two human slaves for something I am working on. I want you to help Igusadon. Go with him to spy upon the Deathwalkers until a band of hunters enter the jungle. Follow the hunters and bring at least two back alive. You will be provided with nets and rope for this as well. Now go and bring me what I need. Good hunting!”

“As you wish, Shaman G’ruk,” replies Drago.

Igusadon leads them once more to the surface. When they get above ground Drago sees that it is still an hour before dawn. Fog wreathes the ruins and it is hard to see, but Igusadon knows the way and leads them without incident back to the swamp and then south to the edge of the jungle where they can spy upon the Deathwalker’s villa. Igusadon makes sure that Drago, Kopusuth, and the two warriors hang back as they are not as good at hiding and keeping still as the expert hunters and trackers.

Eventually a party of five Deathwalker hunters in leather armor, with shields, spears, and shortbows leave the villa and head into the jungle. Igusadon and Igunanosuth follow them at a distance with Kopusuth, Drago, and the 2 warriors kept back as they are not as stealthy.

Igusadon feels confident that he knows what trail they are following and so leads the six of you by another way to get ahead of them in order to set an ambush. Igusadon and Iguanosuth are going to use their nets to catch two of them, while the rest of you kill the others.

And so Drago lies in wait for his prey. Drago is not comfortable with the idea of slavery, but he doesn’t mind killing them. They are only human after all. Deathwalkers for breakfast. Yum!

What follows is quite brutal. As the Deathwalkers come up the trail, Kopusuth whispers to the spirits of the green and within moments the vines and bushes and even flower stalks and grass are reaching out for the hapless humans and twining around them. Outside the area of entanglement, Igusadon and Iguanosuth jump out from behind the trees they were hiding behind and cast their nets over the first two Deathwalkers. The warriors cast darts from their atlatls and strike the last two while Drago spits acid at the one in the middle but unfortunately misses. Drago realizes that he really has to do something about his lousy aim.

The first two Deathwalkers ready their spears, though hampered by the nets and the vines and foliage wrapped around them. They strike out at Igusadon and Iguanosuth who in turn try to get a hold of the two and pull them to the ground. This does not go as well as had been hoped before long Igusadon and Iguanosuth, having been poked and stabbed, are roaring in rage and tearing and biting at their captives until they stop moving.

The last Deathwalker in the line manages to tear through the grasping vines and moves off the path into the brush to get at one of the atlatl casting warriors. He succeeds in stabbing Marvorax through the chest, and as that lizardman warrior falls he moves to attack Atraboros. The second to last in the line also pulls free, though it takes him longer, and he too moves into the brush to attack Atraboros, who is soon hard pressed to defend himself, though he drops his atlatl and resorts to lashing out with his claws and snapping at them with his fanged maw.

Drago also moves in to engage the middle Deathwalker with his own teeth and claws, claws that are now enlarged and razor sharp like a dragon’s. Kopusuth is at his side using his spear, and it doesn’t take long to bring him down.

Drago and Kopusuth move quickly to assist Atraboros. Kopusuth even abandons his spear to rip into one of the Deathwalkers from behind with his own claws and teeth. Soon, the two fighting Atroboros are down as well, though Drago and Atraboros both bear bloody wounds from the fight, though they are but flesh wounds thanks to their own shields and thick hides.

Atroboros is the first to reach the side of the fallen Marvorax. He quickly begins binding his wounds. Kopusuth sees that they are not a moment too soon as Marvorax was within seconds of dying. He gets out one of his two healing potions and pours a little into the comatose warrior’s mouth. Within moments he awakens and is able to drink the rest of the potion. His life is saved.

Igusadon and Iguanosuth come down the path to inform the rest that they all the Deathwalkers are now dying unless they choose two to bind their wounds. This is soon done. Igusadon then directs that all but Kopusuth will carry back one Deathwalker. The two who are alive are tied up and carried by Igusadon and Iguanosuth. The others, being corpses now, are carried back for food.

Back under the ruins of Thracia, Drago is witness to an argument between Igusadon and the gnoll guard captain at the final guard post before they reach the underground river. Neither of them speaks Common fluently at all, so their communication is a pidgin made up of Common, Gnoll, and Draconian and a lot of sign language and growling. From what Drago can make out, the gnolls are demanding one of the human bodies as tribute before they will let the lizardfolk pass.

After much bickering, more growling, baring of teeth, and mutual attempts at intimidation Igusadon signals to Marvorax who then hurls the body he carries to the floor of the filthy guardpost in disgust. The gnolls then allow the lizardfolk to pass but not without some snickering. The lizardfolk warrior’s hands tense on their weapons but that is their only response.

Once they are past the stairwell (and its spyhole) and heading down the passageway leading to the cavern, Igusadon mutters in Draconic, “How long will we have to put up with them!” He sighs.

Kopusuth says, “Do not worry. Once we find the Immortal King we will no longer need them. Not even King Stronghoen will be able to withstand the Immortal King. Be patient.”

Drago grunts agreement, “Nasty, vile beasts.”

Shaman G’ruk is very pleased when they return with the two, still unconscious, captives and two corpses for the lizardfolk larder. “You have done well Drago. I see that you have felt the tip of their spears. Hmm, just a scratch though. You’ll feel much better in a couple of days. It’s nothing we should waste healing potions on.” He then looks over the wounds of Iguanosuth and Atraboros and determines that their wounds also will heal in a few days time. He does, however, given one of the healing potions from Drago’s bandolier to Kopusuth who had to use one of his own to save Marvorax from death. “I trust you don’t mind if I continue to dispense the bounty that you have brought to our tribe?”

Speaking humbly, Drago says, “All that I have is yours, Shaman G’ruk.  However, may I have one of each to carry with me as well?” “Most certainly. In fact, I’ll give you two of each.” G’ruk does so.

Drago now has two cure moderate wounds potions and two gravesbane grenades.

“Now go get some rest. There will be more for you to do, but for today rest and then join us for the feast we will have later.” He looks over at the Deathwalker corpses.

“Thank you, Shaman G’ruk,” Drago says appreciatively.

Readying 18, Drago above ground, again

Mammalian player characters should not read below. However… if you do, you will have a clear understanding of Drago’s heart.

Trakoadon ushers Drago out of G’ruk’s tent after their conversation.

He is given a tent to share with three other warriors, one of whom is Trakoadon. It is comfortable enough for an animal hide tent on the gravelly bank of an underground river.

“Please stay in or by the tent Drago,” warns Trakoadon. “In any case, do not go too far down the bank of the river. There are darkmantles down there that will fall upon and consume the unwary. If you’ve never heard of them and I can see from your expression that you haven’t, they’re a kind of octopoid  thing that disguises itself as a stalactite and then falls upon anyone walking below it. Then they wrap themselves around their victims, crush them, and feed. There’s a whole colony of them down there, so we just swim past them if we ever need to go down river. There really isn’t anything of interest down there anyway. Anyway, wait here until Igusadon comes for you.”

Trakoadon then leaves Drago to himself for a few minutes, but it isn’t long before Igusadon, Iguanosuth, and Kopusuth come for him. They introduce themselves and Drago learns that Igusadon and Iguanosuth are both  trackers (the lizardfolk equivalent of rangers) who have become particularly adept at spying upon, hunting, and fighting against the human scourge. Both are larger, stronger, and more agile than the average warrior. They are dressed in enchanted scale armor made of some boiled hide and armed with masterwork composite longbows, morningstars, two-handed flails, and daggers. Kopusuth is one of the tribal shamans who accompanied G’ruk to Thracia. He is also dressed in enchanted leather scale. He, however, is only armed with a masterwork shortbow, spear, and dagger, but he does have a pouch of healing herbs, balms, splints, and bandages if they are needed. They have four cure moderate wound potions between the three of them (not, however, taken from Drago’s bandoleer they assure him). Once introductions have been made, Igusadon leads them all back to the surface, once more exchanging passwords with the gnolls. Drago is informed that these passwords do change from time to time, as the gnolls see fit.

On the surface, Drago sees that it is mid-afternoon. Igusadon leads them stealthily through the ruins back to the branch of the canal that trails off into the swamp. They are all careful to wrap their bows, quivers and other equipment in treated alligator stomachs to protect them from the water. Once they are in and swimming back to the main canal that bisects the city, Igusadon asks, “So, Drago, tell us, where are these unscaled ones are. Shaman G’ruk said that you left them in the southwest part of the city. Are they near the arena then?”

Drago breathes deep the fresh air. He can almost forget his cares swimming in the creek, but the danger he is putting his friends into brings him back to reality.

Picking up Igusadon’s lead, Drago replies, “Actually, they’ve been using the arena itself. We killed the assassin vines living there and use it as an advantage spot to spy upon the city. They were talking of finding another location. Don’t know if they have. But as of this morning, they were planning to set a trap to kill some Deathwalkers around this time of day in the southeast quadrant. Don’t know where exactly.”

Igusadon nods and thinks this over. “We had better not swim down the canal any further then. Head for the west bank and we’ll get in among the ruins. I know a route that will take us near the arena without exposing us to anyone watching from the stands. Stay close to me. There are buildings in this city haunted by ghosts and wights.” He snorts and then continues, “Maybe if we’re lucky they’ll run into some of those and that will be the end of them. No need for us to do anything.” He swims on.

Igusadon leads them west into the ruins and then turns south again. They stick to the shadows of the buildings and the trees. At one point they cross plaza with a pool now filled with viscous green goo. In the center of the pool are large marble statues of two human deities (one wreathed in grape vines and the other holding a trident) surrounded by smaller statues of frolicking fey and sea creatures. There was once a fountain in the center of it all but that has long since stopped working.

To Drago’s relief they don’t go down the street where the Wight House is, but follow a line of trees and marble blocks facing the western side of the arena so they can look into the stands. They see no one.  The three of them all take out their bows and string them, ready for anything. They indicate to Drago that he should do the same. Once their bows are strung and ready, Igusadon signals for Drago and Kopusuth to stay put. He and Iguanosuth carefully creep up and down the street in order to see the arena from as many hidden vantage points as they can. Drago is reminded of the ways that Indranil and
Lorindel would operate. Finally they return.

“It looks empty. I’m going to go in and see if I can find any tracks. Cover me.” Igusadon swifly runs over to the arena, keeping as low as he can. He looks around and then climbs down into the pit.

When he returns he says, “I found tracks, but no sign of any camp.” He gives Drago a hard look. “We’ll follow the tracks now.” Then they begin following the tracks, which of course lead back to the Wight House.

Drago shrugs. “They must have moved today after they kicked me out.”

Drago keeps his eyes peeled for his comrades, both inside the house and on the rooftop. He has an idea….

Igusadon leads them past the rubble and overgrown foundations surrounding the arena and then holds up his hand to bring them to a halt in the shadows of a wall. Across the streets Drago sees the Wight House. Igusadon motions for the others to keep hidden and to cover him. He apparently has missed Lorindel, who Drago sees is on the roof wearing the elven cloak that had been given to Newt. Drago realizes that he only noticed Lorindel because he knew he would be there. He also sees that Lorindel has seen Igusadon as he moves out of the cover to follow the tracks into the street. Before Drago can say anything Lorindel fires a shot that hits Igusadon in the chest and then he scuttles out of sight, probably to shout a warning to Indranil and the others.

Igusadon runs back to the cover of the ruined building. “I think we found them. Let’s get out of here.”

Drago runs like hell with the others, trying to keep to the shadows so that the Keolanders won’t know he is among them. As he runs he thinks to himself, “Good. Now they know they have been spotted. Hopefully they will find a new secret base.”

Fortunately, no one gives chase. Before getting back into the canal the small group takes cover behind some fallen blocks of marble. Iguanosuth keeps watch while Kopusuth pulls out the arrow from Igusadon and calls upon his spirit allies to heal his comrade. Once healed, Igusadon rises and tells them to quickly pack their bows and gear back into the alligator stomach bags and head into the water to return to the lizardfolk encampment.

They have no trouble returning, but on the way Igusadon asks Drago, “Your former allies are strong. I never saw whoever it was that shot me. How many of them are there? Tell me about them.”

Drago ponders Igusadon’s question for a moment before responding, “They are all great warriors, all human and half elf Keolander nobles, and one powerful sorcerer. Tonight reinforcements will arrive from Melkot as well. Another twenty dwarves have agreed to help kill Deathwalkers. So maybe 30 or so, in all. Most of the Keolanders are friends of the Malarat. There is only one among them who is the enemy of all reptiles. His name is Indranil and he’s their half-breed warlord. You can identify him because he has a wolf companion. The dog’s name is Aatu. If you kill both, the others could become our willing allies, even though I know we will have to kill them all one day. But for now, G’ruk has agreed to let them cause confusion amongst the other mammalian factions, pitting one against the other to thin their herds above ground while we seek the Immortal King below. Indranil is a very cautious sort of fellow. All his actions are based on fear. Stir their fear and they will make stupid mistakes.” Drago laughs. “Indranil wants me dead. I want him dead. We are mortal enemies. This is why I was cast out. Half breed humans!” Drago hisses and spits into the water.

Igusadon says, “Any alliance they may have with Chief Rahk will makes no difference to us. Shaman G’ruk is showing us that we need no longer live depending on the sufferance of humans, nor do we need to bow to them or try to curry their favor or beg their assistance in anything. He is showing us the way to true pride in our ancient heritage. It sounds to me like your grievance with this Indranil is personal. That is beneath you. We should care not at all what the unscaled think of us. Perhaps he is just more wise than the others for he knows that our time is coming and so he futiley does all he can to keep it at bay.” Igusadon laughs. “But it is too late for all of them. I shall report this to Shaman G’ruk. It may be as you say. He may leave the humans to fight each other – Deathwalker against Keolander. We shall see.”

They arrive back at the ruined temple and as before passwords are exchanged and they desend into the depths of the earth.