Dawn, Readying 21, 591 Common Year

Indranil says, “Cousin, I would wish to attack Tavasmok and finish the
Deathwalkers immediately this morning, and then go after G’ruk.”

Fingol says, “Lady Rain and I were just discussing strategy for the
negotiations. When we are clear on that, I would like to discuss what
we are all to do if those talks fail. So be patient just a few
moments.”

Drago says in Common when everyone is in earshot, “I can offer some
small concessions on behalf of the lizardfolk in our negotiations
today with the Deathwalkers. I think Ulmar and I should go alone to
Patriarch Tavasmok while the rest of you free Saeva. The Patriarch
already knows about us. And I will live with them here in either peace
or war, long after you are gone. Let the lizardfolk and changelings do
what the humans refuse to do for themselves, mediate a temporary
alliance with the Deathwalkers.” After taking a breathe momentarily,
Drago mutters in Draconic, “If they can’t work with their own species,
then truly they are only worthy of being our food source. Lost in
their factions of good and evil. Ptah!”

Indranil looks at Drago and replies in Draconic, “Drago I speak
Draconic and I agree the humans can get caught in their own struggles.
But we are all beings that deserve respect. Your allusions to us as
only being good for a food source is deeply disturbing.”

Rain replies in Draconic with a hint of anger, “Agreed. You would best
take better care of your words, Drago. At the very least learn to keep
those thoughts to yourself.”

Aramek says, “Indeed, friend Drago. As I have gotten to know and train
with you, I have not doubted your friendship. However, this kind of
talk can plant such a seed. Each race in our world has its good and
bad traits and good and bad individuals. I believe that even among the
gnolls, it’s possible to find those among them who could be
reasonable. Please don’t sow discord among us with such ill chosen
words.” Aramek crosses his arms over his chest and looks at Drago
expectantly.

Drago says, “Feedstock. For a thousand years the humans have been
feedstock for the beast men. This is the way of Thracia. This you
should understand. Human flesh feeds the city. Deathwalker flesh feeds
the city. ‘Why kill off its feed source?’ I ask myself. You really
pissed off His Majesty.”

Drago.” Fingol cautions, “Lady Rain and I are discussing the strategy
for negotiations now. Have patience and we’ll discuss next steps
soon.”

“Friends,” Fingol calls out, “Please disregard his comments. There are
greater challenges before us.”

Indranil turns away from Drago and moves to Fingol and Lorindel and
says quietly to them in Elvish, “I fear my penance from Ehlenestra
will be diffficult to keep,” he chuckles.

Lorindel chuckles as well, and then says back in Elvish, “Indeed. But
Brother, do not let Drago goad you into another argument. Most of
what he says is inflammatory for the sole purpose to elicit a hostile
reaction. If anything, your complaints will only fuel his desire to
egg you on.”

Fingol chuckles as well, “We don’t know that he doesn’t speak Elvish,
my friend! I think the worst thing you can do to get back at him is to
ignore him.”

“Indeed!” Indranil replies.

Meanwhile, Lady Rain and I need to confer…”

After Fingol hears Drago’s suggestion for the negotiations, He
whispers to Lady Rain in Amedi (out of earshot of the captives).

After that Fingol calls to Ulmar. “Ulmar, would you confer with Lady
Rain and I? There are some questions we must ask.”

Fingol pulls everyone together to discuss next steps:
“OK, we all have ideas for what we should do next, I’m sure.

My first thought was to try to negotiate for the release of Saeva and Ulpu’s son. My thinking is, that if we can negotiate for them quickly, it’s possible that anyone that needs to be evacuated could be sent to Melkot with our friends the dwarves.

I have heard the suggestion for a raid as part of the negotiation. I dislike this for several reasons. First, it is treacherous. While some would not see that as a problem, I do. Going to such a strategy first proves that we cannot be trusted. We would not be able to negotiate with the deathwalkers at all after that, and we would have enemies on all fronts instead of a possible shield for our further raids against Stronghoen. Second, the raid may free Saeva, but it leaves Ulpu’s son in the deathwalker hands. Ulpu has given us a great deal of help, and we should at least attempt to repay that.

Rain will be negotiating for us. Our strategy is that she will insist on the prisoner exchange first, and if that is refused (which is likely) she will offer an alliance. Hopefully Tavasmok is desperate enough for allies that he will accept our help. I would think that after the losses he’s suffered, he would be.

If the negotiations fail, I do not want anyone attacking the deathwalkers or Tavasmok. I consider Tavasmok too dangerous for us to take on. We also need him to be an obstacle to Stronghoen sending out his army. If Tavasmok attacks our first goal is escape. Throw tanglefoot bags and thunderstones and the Obscuring Mist potion, so he cannot chase us or use his spells then we run.”

Drago bobs his head while listening. “I like it. May I join Lady Rain for the negotiations? I would like the lizardfolk to join such a secret alliance; plus I am dangerous even when I am unarmed for her protection, milords. At the very least, if I become chief shaman today, I can promise that Thracian humans will no longer be used by the lizardfolk for non-feedstock purposes and that I will explore other food sources locally, if they work with us… and if I live to see another day. If you don’t want me to join her… then the status quo is fine with me.” Drago flicks his left wrist and smiles.

Rain smiles “Thanks Drago… but I think only I should talk with Tavismok. Less confusion. And to be perfectly honest I just can’t trust what you would say. You have proven only to be very unpredictable.”

Drago smiles, “Yes, milady. Know that I will protect you always.”

Indranil can’t help but smirk at Drago’s comments, “Drago by ‘status quo’ do you mean you will continue to look towards humans as food stock for your nascent kingdom?”

Drago smiles. “One cannot take away their only food source and not be killed by my cousins. Other meat would have to be found. One thing at a time, milords. Of course, Keolanders are not cattle. You are great warriors who make your enemies quake in fear at your approach. You are famed as Great Fighters throughout Thracia’s underworld. Truly.”

After stifling a laugh, Newt says “Drago, you mean that ‘you can promise that Thracian humans will no longer be used for feedstock purposes,’ don’t you? Because otherwise you’re still eating humans, and they won’t react well to that.”

Any sense of laughter leaves Newt’s voice as she continues. “ And while we’re talking about eating sentient beings, I think your people should stop it!”

Drago shrugs, “Meat is meat, sentient or not, but yes, I will endeavor to make it so, Lady Newt.” Drago bobs his head with a smile. “To eat or be eaten, this is the way of the world.”

“You and I will talk later!” says Newt, trying (unsuccessfully) not to get riled up. “Right now Sir Fingol is talking about smaller things than… murder for food” she ends, crossing her arms and turning her attention pointedly back to Fingol.

Aramek, looking distressed, leans over and whispers something to Newt.

Newt nods sharply in agreement with Aramek but says nothing aloud. She keeps her back turned toward Drago and her arms are still tightly crossed.

Fingol: “It sounds as if no one objects to this plan, nor has additional ideas. Let’s move out toward the villa. We will travel under a flag of truce, move to within 100′ or so of the villa and then call for Tavasmok. Lady Rain will then step forward, but not further than 30′ from us and certainly no closer than 30′ to Tavasmok. Then we’ll see how the negotiations fare.”

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.”

Readying 15, 591

Before sunrise, Indranil and his team make their way back into the ruined city. Rope is strung across the street south of the wight-infested building. Indranil, Rain, Drago, and Newt move off the street and take positions among the fallen vine covered marble blocks strewn about. Lorindel stealthily approaches the building and then sees, just within the main entrance, the red glimmer of the eyes of one of the wights. He backs off across the street and fires towards the glimmer. The arrow strikes true and the wight howls and leaps out of the door towards Lorindel. The second wight also comes rushing out of the building, Lorindel turns to run but is not quite fast enough. He feels the claws of the first tearing into his back and sucking away his life force. Fortunately he is able to pull away from it and sprint down the street, but the two wights are right on his heels. As fast as they are, Lorindel is faster and he soon opens a distance between himself and the ravenous undead. He leaps over the rope, but unfortunately the wights leap in time as well. As they do, Indranil and the others fire upon them. Rain misses her first shot, but Indranil and Newt’s arrows both hit the foremost wight. It doesn’t seem to bother it much. Drago shouts “Disrompu nemortajhon!” as Aramek taught him and a thin ray of light shoots forth from his extended claw but misses.

The wights stop and turn to the ambushers, they leap onto the rubble and begin scrambling up towards their attackers. Indranil fires again and though his second arrow also hits the first wight in the chest it doesn’t bother the creature at all. Rain’s second shot hits the other wight, but it doesn’t slow it down a bit, though it does hiss in anger as it plucks the shaft out and throws it aside. Newt scrambles back away from them and fires again, hitting the same one that she hit before and that indranil has already hit twice, but even this fourth arrow doesn’t seem to do anything more than anger it. Lorindel, seeing that the wights have stopped their pursuit, turns back and fires at the first. To his dimay, the arrow sails past harmlessly.

Rain drops her bow and tries to roll past the second wight as it reaches out towards Drago, but the wight reaches out and rips into her with its bony claws, and like Lorindel before her she feels a portion of her life force sucked away by the undead abomination. She does at least get on the other side of it, and as it turns to fend off Drago she draws her sword and pierces it through the back of the skull. It falls, destroyed at last. Drago stumbles back and fires his magical ray a third ti me at the wight that is now menaching Indranil, and for a third time misses. Indranil, however, has already dropped his bow and drawn his sword. He hacks at the monstrosity in front of him and drives it down the mound of rubble. The wight hisses is frustration and tires to run, but Newt is ready for it. She fires her shortbow and her shaft pierces it in the head and it’s negative life force is extinguished at last.

“Next time we go against life force draining undead, I recommend using someone other than the person currently suffering from a drained life force as bait. Sound reasonable?” complains Lorindel through teeth clenched in pain.

Indranil replies, “Yes, brother, but you were the most qualified for the task. You are the fastest and you knew what to look for.”

Lorindel approaches the bodies of the wights drawing his axe. He proceeds to chop off the heads of both of them. Looking back at the others he says, “Hey, you never know. I want these things to stay dead.”

Indranil is breathing heavily at the end of the battle and as he surveys the scene seeing two dead wights and his friends all alive he begins to shake as the battle fever leaves his body. Then he gasps with shock upon seeing both his brother and Rain drawn and pale gray, bleeding from wounds inflicted by the wights. He mutters an oath under his breath, “bloody hell,” and walks over to his brother and lays his hand on his shoulder, “You are most brave brother leading them to us at great risk and you took another grievous wound. We shall pray all night for the gods favor for a full recovery.”

Turning to his friends he says, “You all fought well! We have beaten four massive adult alligators and now two undead wights. Our little band is mighty in deed. It could have gone much worse for us. Everyone did their part perfectly. I am proud of you all.”

“The good news is I think we might have found a safe house we can use. I suspect these two have lived here preying on the unsuspecting for some time and the other denizens of this city know about this house and avoid it. No one will come inside for fear of the wights and we will be undisturbed.”

“Let us carry their bodies back into the building they have been occupying and bury their carcass to maintain the illusion they still prey upon the area. Then let us fully search it. I understand wights like to collect treasure so we may find things worth keeping. This afternoon we will return to our forward base camp and carry our gear and provisions back here and make a new forward base camp inside the wight house.”

“Rain! Are you alright?” Newt knows this is a stupid question, but has to show concern anyway. “That was a frightful attack you finished it with! Now, how can I help you? You’ll forgive me if I say you look terrible.” Turning to the others, “Does anyone have anything which will improve their chances of recovery? A potion, or perhaps a spell?”

There is no response from anyone.

Unable to help Rain any more than helping her find a decent seat (useless, since Rain can do that for herself), Newt does a slow walk around the immediate area, scanning for any minds that may be watching, and again using any birds or beasts she detects to extend her own perception.

Newt looks inside the building the wights used as a home. As she approaches the door the odor hits her and she closes her nostrils to keep the vile scent out. Peeking inside she sees the filth the wights have created. “Indranil, are you sure we won’t catch our deaths of disease living in there? We’ve no cleric to cure us any time soon, and our injured may not heal well within this…” she pauses, at a loss for the right word, then ends with “…grave.”

Rain is pale and shaking, beads of sweat beginning to drip down her face. Though staunched for the most part, blood oozes from rips in her pants at the thigh from the grazing wound. Yet she returns a small smile to Newt “Ill be fine Newt, thanks.”

She walks over to Lorindel, placing her hand briefly on his shoulder “Nice pull of the wights Lorindel. Just as planned.”

As Newt approaches the wight’s previous lair she says harshly “Newt, step away from there! We don’t know for sure it is safe yet.”

Turning to Indranil she says “What next Indranil, we clear the house?”

“Aye, we need to clean up the street fast and get out of sight before we are seen. The sounds are surely to have drawn unwanted attention.”

Indranil quickly coils the two trip ropes, places one in his pack and hands the other to Lorindel. Then he takes a fallen branch and scrubs out the signs if battle.

When done he says, “Drago and Newt grab that wight. Lorindel and Rain grab that one.” Indranil picks up the two heads and walks toward the east entrance of the wight house, “follow me he says softly over his shoulder.”

He cautiously stops at the threshold to look inside. It is two stories (24′) tall and the entrances might once have been wooden doors but these have long since disintegrated from the hinges. Lorindel moves around the perimeter before taking a peek inside. There is nothing around the perimeter, no tracks or any other signs of habitation. The only other things around it are more ruins. The building looks as though it were set on fire ages ago. Peeking in through the entrances Lorindel sees that the interior is completely empty except for the bones and ash strewn all over the floor. If there was a second floor it also burned away in the fire.

Following Indranil inside where he drops the heads on the ground, Newt also drops the wight she is carrying roughly to the ground and Drago kicks its head around. Lorindel and Rain carry the second body.

Indranil and Lorindel find two tree branches to use as poles about 6′ in length and drive them in the ground just inside the open doorways in the shadows, impaling the wights bodies and heads upon them, like a scarecrow, so anyone passing by will think the wight still stand guard.

“Oh, that’s just gross!” thinks Newt as the “scarecrows” are erected. Aloud she says “Nice camouflage, Indranil.” Then adds in a mumble to herself, “Home sweet home,” as she settles in.

Rain takes a look at the dwarven corpse for anything distinguishable. “Hmmm… Indranil, I wonder if this guy came with the other dwarves you mentioned in the quarry. I agree, I would like to see if we can make our way down there to investigate. Looks like maybe these guys all came here together for some purpose I would like to discover.”

Drago follows Rain over to the dead dwarf and incants, “Magio rivelighu!” to see if any magic can be detected. First he scans the dwarf. Once finished there, he continues to methodically inspect the entire building with the spell for anything they might have missed.

There is nothing of any value or magic in this building.

Rain then looks around the building, seeing if any part of the upper structure can be accessed by climbing and be usable as a lookout with relative cover.

Indranil then speaks. “Friends, we have an interesting riddle to solve here. This a dwarf corpse is only a few weeks old. I saw three dwarven corpses down on a ledge in the quarry that were much older. Dwarves are known for their mining skills and have a nose for valuable ore and gems. It appears they have made regular trips into Thracia, not always to their benefit,” Indranil nudges the corpse with his toe. I would like to rope down to the quarry’s ledge and investigate those corpses for further clues to theri intentions. Lorindel are you up for belaying me on the climb? Rain, Drago and Newt you would be our guard.

“Rain any luck finding an easy path or climb to the roof? It would be nice to have a high point of vantage to survey the rest of the SW quadrant.”

After Rain’s evaluation she says “Indranil, I can make my way up to the roof and set a knotted rope for us. That would be a good lookout spot.”

The only clearing out they do is the semi-protected NW corner where they make camp. They collect enough debris to make a defensible berm around the corner and screens them from sight of the doorways. They leave the rest as-is so as not to disturb the look of the wight house to any passing observers.

They collect their gear and provisions to make a new camp in the wight house.

WARNING, WARNING, WARNING! The source of Drago’s magick is revealed herein. Do not continue reading if you do not want to know! Leave now!

The lizard man Drago is awakening to the draconic powers of Kopep.

Drago’s Drakonik Kantrips

• Detect Magic (Magio Rivelighu!)
• Disrupt Undead (Disrompu Nemortajhon!)
• Mage’s Hand (Jhetu Sorch-manon!)
• Message (Sendu Mesaghon!)
• Unnerving Gaze (Nemaltrankviliganta Rigardas!)

Drago’s Dragon Powers

• Dragon Claws
• Disguise Self (Kaŝvestu Selfn!)
• Orb of Acid Lesser (Jhetu Malplian Acid-globon!)

Fireseek 21, Common Year 591 – Drakonik Revelations
As Drago follows Newt ashore he is intercepted by Chief Rahk. “Come, Drago, I wish to speak with you.”

“Yes, Chief Rahk, I was just thinking about speaking with you as well. Thank you,” Drago hisses with an appropriate submissive posture. “How can I help you?”

Chief Rahk takes Drago far away from the Javan Queen, to the other side of the ruins of Cypress Hill. He signals several warriors to take up guard position to ensure that they are not disturbed. Then, when he is certain no humans are about he turns to Drago and begins speaking in Draconic.

“Drago, I know that since you were a hatchling you have been restless. You have long felt the need to see what lies beyond our nests and hunting grounds. No, you need not deny it. We elders have long observed this and there is no shame in it, for we also know why you feel it. I will explain why in a moment.

“Now I need someone to go with these ape children for a time. They are valorous. Sir Ragnbjorn and his son and comrades at least have shown themselves to be trustworthy and steadfast allies. We need such allies for I fear that there are many more Deathwalkers out there – perhaps in this lost city of Thracia. And of course the Scarlet Brotherhood may return as well.

“Now you must understand Drago,” continues Chief Rahk, “That this is not an exile but a mission of great importance that I wish to give you. I want you to be our representative among the humans. I want you to go with them, help them find this lost city and learn all you can about what is going on out there. There is no shame in this. You are being sent away only for a time for the good of the tribe. But perhaps this is what you wanted isn’t it? This is your chance to go among them and see a bigger world. So go then with our blessing and for the good of the tribe. Learn all you can and do what you must to help them as long as it does not harm our tribe. Then return to us and we shall discuss all that you have seen and heard, and all that you and they have done.

“Now, before you say whether you will accept this or not, I wish to tell you something more. You may know that many shamans and acolytes and even sorcerers have come from your line, but only the elders know why this is. It was more than just the heroism of that hatchling Newt that saved you. I believe it was more than just luck that you were spared the fate of your comrade Vesk. I think it was the destiny that lies within your blood. For know this, Drago, in ages past our tribe was visited by a strange copper scaled warrior. Kopep was the name he gave us. Kopep stayed with us for a time and helped our tribe during a time of great need. He married, raised hatchlings, and yet never seemed to age. Then one day, he left us. From that time on his descendants have shown themselves to be possessed of a great affinity for magic, and many times their scales have turned copper as they have grown into their power. I believe the same may be happening to you. You have not seen it, but since the battle several of the scales on your back have turned from green to copper. It is the belief of the elders that this Kopep was in fact a dragon. He was perhaps a copper dragon, perhaps from the Tors or the Little Hills. It may be that your wanderlust and the changes that you may soon be undergoing are his legacy. The elders know from past experience with others of your line, as told in our secret tales that you will need time away from the routines of the tribe to explore the world and the power of your bloodline before you will be ready to settle down with us again and contribute your strength to the good of the tribe. So this is another reason why we wish to send you with the ape children.

“Now, Drago, will you leave our tribe for the good of the tribe? Will you undertake this mission and go with these ape children for a time?”

Drago is speechless for a moment at this revelation. He doesn’t know what to say. Then he finds his tongue as he bows deep, “It would be my honor, Chief Rahk, to serve the tribe in this way. I think the magic in my blood is beginning to come forth as well. The hatchling Newt just told me that I sent her a message from a distance, but I know not how I did so.”

Chief Rahk nods, “Ah, so it has already begun. I thank you for accepting this mission. The Malarat thank you. I will inform Sir Ragnbjorn and Sir Fingol that we wish you to join any expedition to this lost city that they seek.”