Drago Seeks the Malarat
Readying 18, Drago alone in the Thracian Jungle?
Mammalian player characters should not read the following narrative! Any who dare to continue reading will have their eyes gorged out and be beaten by Gnoll patrols.
After Indranil attacks Drago, he and Lorindel escort Drago, still wearing the gray wizard hat, to the jungle at the southern edge of the city.
Drago remains stoic and silent during this ordeal. Without looking back, he heads south into the jungle on all fours, leaping with joy to be alone in the swamps once again.
When Drago thinks he is beyond their keen perceptions, he veers toward the east to begin skirting the ruined city, striving to stay hidden by the jungle brush. He looks for signs of his people and their enemies. He watches the city for clues of what lies within.
When he comes to the south eastern corner of Thracia, he rests as he watches the Deathwalkers’ villa for a short while. Then he proceeds north, still hidden by the jungle as it turns into swamp. “It almost feels like home here,” he thinks to himself.
As Drago makes this slow loop around the city, he makes a snack of the various bugs and rodents that he finds. He finally arrives at the point where jungle merges into swamp on the eastern side of the city. Drago enters into the water and begins swimming among the mossy cypresses. The water around him flows like a green, velvet carpet of leaves and algae. The ripples he makes in the surface of the swamp water, eddies out to slap lightly upon the wide, black bases of the trees that rise out of the gloom. Hoary beards of moss drip from the boughs of the trees, filtering the sunlight and casting an amber glow on the water through which Drago wades.
As Drago begins to feel a sense of peace fill him, he hears a call in Draconian. Looking up he sees that he has been spotted by a Malarat warrior who now hisses at him, “Who are you! Identify yourself!” From the ripples in the water around this warrior (who is at least 120’ away), Drago knows that other warriors are swimming towards him under the algae covered waters.
Drago realizes he’s still wearing that stupid hat and so tucks it under his bandoleer. Hissing back in Draconic, Drago says loudly, “I am Drago of the Malarat, your kinsman.”
“Well met,” replies the warrior. “I am Trakoadon and I remember you well.”
Drago realizes that he does know this warrior. Other Malarat lizardfolk emerge out of the waters around him. They are all armed with javelins, heavy clubs with ridges of alligator teeth, and shields made of turtle shell. Drago recognizes them all, though he does not know them by name. They were all members of that faction of Malarat warriors who most opposed Chief Rahk’s dealings with the “unscaled.”
Trakoadon swims closer and then asks, “So, what brings you here? How did you find us?”
Drago is over joyed to find his people. “Chief Rahk sent me on a mission with humans and half elves to fight the Deathwalkers who have been encroaching upon our tribe’s territory. But it turns out that G’ruk is right after all. The unscaled are only concerned with expanding their own territory. Most will never be on friendly terms with lizardfolk.”
The other warriors look to Trakoadon, who nods at Drago and says, “I see. I think you had better come with us. Shaman G’ruk will be happy to hear that another of our brothers has come.”
As they swam north and then west back towards the city, Trakoadon asks, “What is all this?” He gestures to the bandoleers, and in particular points to the hat with a sneer.
“Oh, I found the hat in the ruins. Don’t need it now.” Drago tosses it away into the water. Pointing to the full bandoleer, he says, “These are gravebane grenades to fight undead.” Pointing to the almost full bandoleer, he adds, “And these are curative potions. The Prince of Westkeep gave them to me to help our expedition.”
As Drago travels with his kinsmen, he watches to see if any others have the tell tale copper markings of Kopep. None of those present do.
Trakoadon stops swimming for a moment and turns to look at Drago. “This expedition you were on. They came here to fight the Deathwalkers?” It isn’t really a question though. Trakoadon has clearly guessed that they came to Thracia. “Where are they now brother Drago?”
Drago grunts assent. “They are about a mile away, brother Trakoadon.” Drago points toward the southwest.
Trakoadon mulls this over and then says, “We will tell Shaman G’ruk. He will decide what, if anything, should be done about them.” He turns away and resumes swimming, the others, nod to Drago to follow. Drago is surrounded by warriors. They are not taking any chances that he will try to swim away.
Eventually they swim into the canal that empties into the swamp. It is in fact branch of the main canal that bisects the city, which heads off east into the swamp. They swim west up the canal for several hundred feet and then creep back out of it onto the southern bank and begin walking into the ruins on the south side. Far off to the southwest Drago can see the arena and he wonders if Indranil or Lorindel are watching from there. In any case, it is no longer visible as Trakoadon leads them into the cover of several more intact buildings. Finally the come to a ruined marble temple, with no roof and only fragmentary walls. A few trees have grown out of the floor by the entrance.
Trakoadon holds up his hand to signal to the others to stop. In Common he says, “[Password deleted].”
A voice from the trees by the entrance barks back in Common, “Go then into the dark and find the light.”
Drago looks up and sees that crouching on the upper branches at least 15’ up and hidden by the leaves are at least half a dozen gnolls with shortbows aimed at them. They put away their bows and Trakoadon beckons his small band and Drago forward into the ruins. He motions for Drago to remain silent.
Inside the ruins, Trakoadon leads them down a set of 20’ wide marble stairs that descend deep into the earth. Drago notes, before being led underground, that what is left of the interior walls have faded murals on them depicting some human god with flowing robes and a white beard hurling down lighting bolts from clouds and mountain tops on the hapless mortals below.
A little ways down, just before it gets too dark to see, Trakoadon stops the group and heads over to a small shelf inset into the wall. On it is a small clay lamp and next to that some flint and steel. Trakoadon gets the lamp lit and then they resume their trek down the stairs, now illuminated by the flickering light of the oil lamp.
“It is better if you keep silent for now,” says Trakoadon once more speaking Draconian. “I know you must have many questions. I also find the gnolls distasteful. But we have formed a temporary alliance with them until… Well it is better if you wait and speak with Shaman G’ruk. He will explain it all to you. For now, be patient and silent.”
The stairs eventually come to an end in a large entrance hall that in the dim light Drago sees is about 50’ long and wide. Corridors lead off into the darkness to the right, left, and straight ahead. The walls were once painted in bright colors. Now faded, the scenes are of elaborate human ceremonies involving the burning of calves and other sacrifices to the gods. Other scenes show richly decorated Thracians bowing in supplication to various regally robed deities. The air in the room stinks of bat quano. Drago slips a bit on the marble floor and then looks down to see that almost half a foot of gray dung covers the floor. Tracks crisscross the fecal matter leading straight ahead and to the right. Trakoadon whispers to Drago to be careful and quiet. Then he holds the lamp up just a little, enough to show Drago that 30’ above the ceiling is covered with bats. “Do not disturb them,” he hisses. He then leads them off to the right.
They enter a ten foot wide plastered corridor that twists and turns and leads past one tripwire for a double spear trap and just past that a spear and shield bearing gnoll in leather armor in the corridor standing guard in front of a room full of more gnoll guards. Trakoadon also trades passwords with that gnoll guard in Common. Once past the guard the make their way down a long sloping passageway that turns left into a long stairwell. Drago begins to feel more and more claustrophic as they continue deeper and deeper into the earth. Drago even finds himself wondering if they are going into the infamous
Underdark.
They finally arrive at a large dry cavern filled with rubble. It is fairly dry with stalactites and stalagmites along the southeastern walls. Trakoadon leads them across the cavern, along the edge of a wall to their right. The ceiling arches up into the darkness. The cavern seems to be only about 40’ across but off to their left it stretches away into the darkness, where Drago can dimly see mounds of rubble and the beginnings of a small forest of stalactites and stalagmites where the wall of the cavern up ahead curves away into the darkness. He also hears the squakings and skittering of countless rats echoing all around. Up ahead is the entrance to a new passageway.
The passageway is a short one however. After 20’ it opens onto a room filled with a foot of compressed garbage. On the wall to the left is a set of heavy oaken double doors bound in brass and before them another gnoll guard. Once again the passwords are exchanged and they are let through the double doors.
Beyond the double doors is another room of about the same size. This one is filthy with offal, food scraps, bits of armor, scraps of leather, broken and useless weapons, discarded boxes, broken furniture, shreds of cloth, garbage, and a motley collection of disconnected bones. On the far side of the room is another set of double doors and Drago notes that both sets of doors have heavy oaken bars that can be slid into place. Inside this trash strewn den are seven more gnolls armed with swords, battleaxes, and other weapons. Two of them, probably commanders, are in scale mail and armed with greatswords. One of the lesser gnollsis stationed at a spy-hole in the
wall on the right. Another is cuffing and angrily growling at a wretched looking human male dressed only in a loincloth. Old scars and new bruises from repeated beatings are visible all over his body. He stutters something in the Gnoll tongue and cowers away. The gnolls ignore the lizardfolk, though Drago observes that at least one sneers at them as they pass by.
Past the second set of double doors they find another passage leading off to the right and then it turn right again they find themselves heading up a short flight of stairs to another passage that quickly turns to the left and after about 50’ they come to another natural cavern. This one has an underground river running through it. Once more the ceiling is lost in the darkness overhead as is the far bank of the underground river. Trakoadon leads them off to the left along the bank of the river and they come to a small cluster of animal skin tents surrounding a small bonfire. Drago estimates that there can’t be much more than a dozen lizardfolk that he can see, but the number of tents would indicate that thee may be at least three times that number living there.
Trakoadon tells one of the other warriors to run on ahead and alert Shaman G’ruk. He leads Drago at a slower pace to a tent larger than the others standing against the wall of the cavern, but then stops him before he can go inside. They wait and then the other warrior comes out of the tent and says, “He will see Drago.”
Trakoadon says to Drago, “You must relinquish your weapons and this,” he taps the bandolier, “before we can let you see Shaman G’ruk. Once he is sure of you, they will be returned to you.” The other five warriors stand ready in case Drago protests this precaution. It occurs to Drago that this is the kind of paranoia he had often seen among the humans, and is a little disturbed to find it here among his own kind as well.
Without a word, Drago relinquishes his weapons and bandoleers, knowing he is not without tricks if things go awry.
