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.”

Evening in the Arena, Readying 20, 591

I suppose I should start from Melkot. That way Drago can get caught up with all the events; at least as I remember them and from my point of view…

My errand to Melkot was happy and unhappy. Drago must be wondering where our friends the dwarves and Father Adalwulff come into this tale. They were recruited there, and they have figured large in our successes.

Sir Aramek and Father Wat accompanied me to Melkot. We stayed at an Inn outside the city because I wanted to learn more of the town before presenting myself as a representative of Prince Prospero. While staying at the inn, we had the good fortune to meet a priest of Fharlanghn, Brother Cerball. He set up a meeting between myself and the governor of Melkot.

At that meeting we warned the Mayor of the danger Thracia might pose to Melkot. It was at that meeting, I first met Grim and Morgrym. They were the mayor’s guards. Unfortunately, we also met Serlo, Mayor Weibex’s advisor. It was he who conspired with an evil cult to kill Father Wat. The same assassins would have killed Sir Aramek and I, had Father Adalwulf not stepped in to save us.

The mayor then offered us support in our quest to end the danger Melkot poses. He gave us a generous sum of gold to buy magic which might prove helpful to us. We also gained the help of Father Adalwulf and Grim and Morgrym with their kinsmen, though they cannot stay beyond first light this morning.

We returned to Thracia and found our friends again. In our absence they had scouted a large portion of the city and learned a bit of it’s situation. I also learned that a falling out between Sir Indranil and Drago resulted in Drago’s expulsion from the squad. I am glad to have you back.

Now, let’s see… what happened next. So much has happened it seems like a month or more has passed.

I suppose the next major event was the fight in the Wight House. We were pretty hard pressed by a troop of gnolls, but in the end we prevailed. Sir Aramek proved to be quite proficient with his wand of Scorching Rays, and Sir Indranil dispatched a powerful leader of the gnoll clan.

It was after that, Sir Indranil decided we should pursue the gnolls up the cliffs to their village. We had another tough fight on our hands there too. I am glossing over a list of heroic deeds by all hands of course, but I am concerned with taking too much time. Still, it’s thrilling to recall Lady Rain’s heroics to open the gate, the charge of the dwarves and Indranil’s capable sniping which kept us from being stopped by the gnoll’s own archers. I’m sure we’ll all have a great time embellishing the stories in the coming days.

In any case, it was after this fight that we found ourselves with four deathwalkers captured and enslaved by the gnolls. Sir Indranil and I and Father Adalwulff differed on how to proceed with questioning them. This resulted in a major disagreement between Sir Indranil and Father Adalwulff, and they fought a duel. Fortunately for all, it was not to the death and Father Adalwulff showed both wisdom and mercy. However, it was after these events that Sir Indranil relinquished command to me.

Following that I asked Lady Rain to interrogate the prisoners. She learned a great deal from one of the women named Ulpu. Ulpu provided us with important intelligence including maps of the deathwalker caverns and warning us about Tavasmok. She also told us that both Adelina’s parents were held in the villa at one point. And while her mother was still in the villa, her father was sent elsewhere. We were left to assume and to hope that this meant he could be found in the deathwalker caverns. While discussing these plans, Sir Indranil and I differed on certain key choices. He decided to leave for the boat immediately.

Following our interrogation, we decided to launch a bold plan of raiding the deathwalker caverns in hopes of finding Adelina’s father. Then attacking the relief column of deathwalkers, when they marched through the city to the caverns. We hoped to make these attacks look like gnoll-work. And if Tavasmok took the bait, we would raid the villa in hopes of finding Adelina’s mother.

The events of that raid were quite different than planned, but resulted in our being found by Drago, Ulmar and Sir Indranil. So, all’s well that ends well, I suppose.

Following Fingol’s story, he passes his spyglass over to Sir Lorindel. “You’ve keen eyes. Keep watch for Tavasmok for us, while Lady Rain and I confer.”

Fin then turns to Lady Rain, “May I ask you to walk with me a while?”

They walk around the upper perimeter of the arena in as much as the ruins allow and engage in a quiet discussion. Upon returning, Fin turns to Father Adawulff “Good priest, You seem ready to endorse this idea of eliminating the deathwalker priesthood and taking over the deathwalker rank and file as a check to the beastmen. Have you thought through this idea? We are here with light provisions and will need to leave this place from time to time for fresh supplies. What happens to the check on the beastmen then? Do you think that a few guards is what is stopping the gnoll army? Or is it Tavasmok? I think eliminating him is far more destabilizing than anything we have done thus far.”

“As a priest of Pholtus I recognize that those aligned with Law can be
trusted to a certain extent, and though they may have evil ambitions
they also want stability and not wanton destruction. We might be able
to form a temporary alliance with Tavasmok if it is impossible to get
rid of him. Perhaps we can exchange hostages,” he glances at the
Deathwalker captives, “Saeva, and Ulpu’s family, for at least Jaana
and the two men. I will not condone giving up or betraying Ulpu
however, as she has come to the Light of Pholtus. Anyway, if we can
exchange hostages and form a temporary alliance to fight the Chaos and Evil of King Stronghoen then I think Pholtus will not be displeased.
But I will say that under no circumstances must we directly be
involved in any evildoing or the condoning of evildoing. If we can
make a deal with Tavasmok without tainting ourselves we might be able to get back Saeva without violence, and then together with them defeat King Stronghoen. But both we and they must understand that after the temporary alliance is over we will again be enemies. So we should be careful of the terms of the agreement so that we can make sure that we are clear of them when the fight against the beast-men is over.”

Drago’s Tale of Readying 18 to 20, 591

Looking around the group as he gathers his thoughts, Drago begins, “Please, no questions until after I finish my tale. However, my story is one of Chaos, a tale of both Good and Evil. I would therefore like to ask that those of you who can, to cast your spells now to discern the truth of my words. Open your mind and all perceptive skills you may have at your disposal. Newt, Ulmar, you may probe my mind deeply as I share.”

After the others have a moment to cast their spells, Drago begins again. “After Sir Indranil banished me from your merry little band three days ago, I went looking for Shaman G’ruk and the other renegade members of the Malarat tribe. I knew they must be around here somewhere. I found them in the swamp near the northeast corner of Thracia.

“The lizardfolk then took me to their encampment below ground. As you now know, their camp is heavily guarded by both lizardfolk and gnolls. The password is, or rather was, ‘We serve the king of the City of Eternal Light,’ although I suspect it has changed by now. Neither humans, elves nor dwarves can hope to make entry easily, even with the password.

“My kinfolk took me to see Shaman G’ruk, as I hoped. He is one crazy egg of a lizard. He’s become fat and comfortable in his power. His followers believe he is very powerful, that he is able to cast all clerical and arcane spells in the multiverse. I don’t know if that is true or not, although by this morning, I earned his full trust.

“Anyway, last night when we were feasting on Deathwalkers (humans are their food source) I learned more about their make-up. I was told they have been sending messengers out to all the lizard tribes in the swamps, to gather all those who have a like mind, lizards like themselves who want to destroy all of humanity.

“Chief Rahk and the other elders of my tribe of course strongly oppose such tactics. This is why Rahk sent me here to kill G’ruk, if the renegade fails to see the light of reason. Right now, there are about sixty lizardfolk in Thracia, although last I heard, most of them are guards down in Huvat Vex. Only a couple dozen are generally at their camp at any given time. A few more lizards arrive every day to join the revolution.”

Drago pauses, licks his lips, and considers his next words. “As you learned today, G’ruk seeks to awaken the legendary Immortal King, he who ruled Huvat Vex in the time before your Mammalian Hordes swept across the world, in the time when Reptiles still ruled the world. He believes that he sleeps somewhere below Huvat Vex, or perhaps elsewhere else below Thracia.” Drago shrugs. “I don’t know if it is true, but the other elders in my tribe do not believe in such tales. However, G’ruk claims to receive visions from the sleeping King.”

“Anyway, I also learned last night that because I descend from Kopep the copper dragon, I am G’ruk’s defacto heir as tribal shaman of the Malarat. It is the way of my people. Even so, the only way the other renegades are likely to follow me upon G’ruk’s death will be if I begin having visions of the Immortal King or find other clues as to his whereabouts.

“So, this morning G’ruk sent me on a mission upriver from their camp to find clues to the Immortal King along with some other lizards.” Looking to Newt, “The three who were with G’ruk, Newt. We didn’t find any clues, but we found some great treasure and fought an ancient beast. I don’t know what it was, but it had many razor sharp tendrils, with an eye on the end of each tendril. I received a gem encrusted magical shield and long sword as my reward for saving their lives.

“After we got back to camp, due to the trust I had earned, I was given a personal tour of the City of Eternal Light, Huvat Vex. The entrance to it is just like the ancient tomes described, the ones we found in the mound shrines in the swamp. It is below the temple of Zeus, I think his name is, but in the temple of some other unknown Goddess. There is a teleportation device that brings you there when you step on it! But again, it is very well guarded by gnolls.

“Huvat Vex is grand and beautiful. There is a giant crystal in the roof of the cavern that lights it with a bluish hue all the time. There are ponds and orchards with giant strawberries on them, all inhabited by dryads. There are four large ziggurats, each a different color, and an ancient palace where the king of Thracia lives. There are many powerful guardians everywhere one turns, including a huge five headed hydra that guards the palace.

“When we were in the palace throne room, there was quite a commotion. Evidently, they were very upset that you found, killed and ransacked the gnoll village above the cliffs. They were especially upset that you killed their women and children.” Drago chuckles. “King Stronghoen killed the gnoll leader of the tribe by twisting off his head for his failure to kill you as you climbed the cliff. Oh, by the way, King Stronghoen is a nine foot tall minotaur with terrifying arcane powers. He kind of liked me, though, because I refused to cower to his fearsomeness like everyone else.” Drago looks at Indranil and smiles toothily. “The minotaurs have ruled Thracia and Huvat Vex for a thousand years, since the beast-men threw off the yoke of their former masters, the humans who built most of the city.

“Anyway, and perhaps most importantly, because of your success in the battle against the gnolls, Stronghoen is now calling upon all the tribes of beast-men to come to Thracia to annihilate you and the Deathwalkers. Once they complete that task, they plan to wipe out all dregs of humanity from the swamps and the rest of the world like a great wave of angry beasts. In this one regard, G’ruk and Stronghoen are in complete agreement.

“However, I threw my own wrench into the works.” Drago giggles evilly. “I made a secret alliance with the King when we were alone together. Since I don’t believe I can yet kill G’ruk in a fair fight, I told Stronghoen the truth of G’ruk’s plans to break their alliance and kill the beast-men once they find the Immortal King, setting the gnolls, minotaurs and other scary monsters against the lizardfolk. Stronghoen and I made a secret pact, that he would lead the beast-men and I would lead the lizardfolk in our quest to kill all humans. Of course, I would never do such a thing… I only want G’ruk dead and the other lizards to see the beneficial light of peaceful inter-species relations, at Chief Rahk’s direction. If I am right about the Immortal King’s identity, he could be the key to wiping out all evil in this gods forsaken city. If G’ruk is right, we are all doomed.”

“Anyway, when I told Stronghoen about the Immortal King, he seemed very surprised. I don’t think he knew about the legend. He does now.” Drago giggles again. “When I told him about my belief about my relation to the Immortal King, he began to realize that if my story is real, then I am the true heir to his throne. Things began to go badly then, but our alliance didn’t fall apart. As long as he believed that he could control me, that my allegiance was to him alone, he didn’t kill me. He almost strangled me, but he didn’t kill me.” Drago smiles toothily as he rubs his neck.

“So… that is when His Majest took me on a personal ‘tour’ of the level below Huvat Vex, perhaps the lowest level, or almost. He has expressly forbidden everyone, even his own people, from going down there. However, he has guards posted here and there, and scary monsters roam around looking for food. He didn’t throw me into the dungeon, per se, it was more of an ancient corral for an unused arena, it might even have special quarters for minotaurs, much older than the arena on the surface. Minotaurs live there, even cows and calves. He left my door open too, almost daring me to try to escape, which would have been a very foolish thing to do, to wander around down there alone, blind in the darkness, with manticores and who know what else looking for a tasty meal.

“When Stronghoen left me, he said he was going to go test G’ruk’s supposed ‘great powers’ and would return shortly to begin my arcane training under his tutelage. So, yes, for a short time today, this dragon became the Dark Lord’s disciple. I am guessing that the only reason G’ruk finally moved his fat lazy ass out of his tent is because His Majest is after his ass. Thus G’ruk’s profound hatred for me.” Drago giggles again.

“So, Sir Fingol, as you can now see, Thracia did not devour me. I, as your spy, devoured Thracia and established myself as the leadership heir to our enemies, for when the time is right. Chaos between the factions follow in my wake.

“This is why I say we should let G’ruk be for now. The beast-men and lizardfolk will soon be at each other’s throat, at my doing. Therefore, I believe our next task should be to rescue Newt’s mother, who is locked up below the Deathwalker villa. Ulmar knows the way.

“Anyway, a few hours ago Bitterbark, Stronghoen’s dog faced major-domo, showed up to question me in the corrals. I quickly realized his true identity. He was overjoyed that I knew who he was because it meant that Newt must be in Thracia.

Looking directly at Newt now, “I never talked about you to anybody, Newt, not even your father. He figured it out by my reaction to him. Further, neither G’ruk nor Stronghoen have any clue about you, or your father, if I am not mistaken. I’ll let him tell his own tale though.

“Anyway, that is when Bitterbark-Ulmar helped me to escape, changing our shapes as we crossed the city, so we could warn you about the impending gathering tribes of beast-men and to find Newt. Doing so caused me to lose my alliances with both factions. I am now enemy #1 in all of Thracia, all because I decided that you deserve to live after all, even at the risk of my own life.” Finally, Drago ends his tale in silence, looking from one face to another with a smirk on his face.

Adalwulf’s face has increasingly darkened the longer Drago spoke. As Drago finishes he ruefully mutters, “I think I am beginning to see that my suspicions of allegiance to Chaos were misdirected.” He then forces himself to be silent to hear the others speak.

Fingol scans the city through his spyglass for a few minutes.

Ulmar comments, “The city of Huvat Vex predates this human city,” he
gestures to the surface ruins. “From what I have been able to gather,
Huvat Vex was the city of the ancient lizardfolk when they were ruled
by the Immortal King. Drago, I know you think the Immortal King is the
copper dragon Kopep, but I have to say that I have seen no indication
of any dragons, copper or otherwise, in, near, or under Thracia. In
any case, Kopep could only be hundreds of years old, but Shaman G’ruk
believes that the Immortal King may be thousands of years old. I
certainly want to rescue Saeva as quickly as may be, but I fear what
will happen if Shaman G’ruk should discover and awaken the Immortal
King.”

Adalwulf says, “Whatever we do, I must tell you all that I have very
few spells left, and those would not be of much use if we are to go
into combat again, whether against Patriarch Tavasmok or Shaman G’ruk.”

“I have faith that the awakening of the Immortal King will turn this land of chaos into one for good, rather than evil. So, yes, I have faith in the sound of the music of dragon’s blood in my veins. Thus I now seek the Immortal King. We each have a place in the revolution, don’t you think? Will G’ruk or Drago be proven the bigger madman?” Drago smiles.

Drago responds to Ulmar, “Yes, those are the prophecies of the mad
lizardman G’ruk, Master Ulmar. While I cannot claim to have visions of
the Immortal King like Elder G’ruk, the blood of dragons within me
seems to sing a song of faith, ‘I am here, I am here. No one knows
where, but I am here. Find me.’

“I agree, Master Ulmar, I found no sign of dragons. But I don’t buy
G’ruk’s refutation about his age. Kopep may or may not be the immortal
king, but we may be his grandchildren. When Kopep lived with my
people, he was in the form of a copper scaled lizardfolk and he bred
with my people. He could have been any age. How would one know, but
for the dreams of a mad lizardman? Anyway, it is said Kopep came from
around here, maybe from the Tors.

“I have faith that the awakening of the Immortal King will turn this
land of chaos into one for good, rather than evil. So, yes, I have
faith in the sound of the music of dragon’s blood in my veins. Thus I
now seek the Immortal King. We each have a place in the revolution,
don’t you think? Will G’ruk or Drago be proven the bigger
lizardmadman?” Drago smiles.

“I want to believe that, so we can watch for an opening to attack the villa and free Newt’s mother.

“But as much as I want to believe that, there is too much at stake to ignore the possibility that the Immortal King may be the leader the beastmen need to unite them against humanity. If that were to happen, the Great Druidess’s vision could become a reality. And frankly, without such a leader, I don’t see the beast-men rising above their factionalism.

“Ulmer, you said you thought Drago was mistaken. Could you elaborate on why?”

Fingol turns from scanning the city. “Drago, your tale is amazing. I
commend you for your resourcefulness. Please don’t take my abundance
of caution as an insult, or that I think you insincere. I believe you
are quite sincere, but you could be sincerely mistaken when you say
G’ruk is not an immediate threat. I want to believe that, so we can
watch for an opening to attack the villa and free Newt’s mother. But
as much as I want to believe that, there is too much at stake to
ignore the possibility that the Immortal King may be the leader the
beastmen need to unite them against humanity. If that were to happen,
the Great Druidess’s vision could become a reality. And frankly,
without such a leader, I don’t see the beastmen rising above their
factionalism.

“Ulmer, you said you thought Drago was mistaken. Could you elaborate on why?”

Ulmar responds to Fingol, “I did not wish to risk prying into G’ruk’s
thoughts. If he detected my presense he would have come after me I am
sure. And yet, his dreams are leading him on and, if anything, making
him even more hateful and vicious. I do believe that whatever power is
down there is leading G’ruk, and it is not a good influence on him. I
also have to wonder, though the copper dragon’s are mostly aligned
with the powers of Good, why would one so ancient have been trapped so
long in a place as dire as this? Wouldn’t his kin have freed him in
all this time if that was the case? And there are other types of
dragons as well, those not aligned with Bahamut, the lord of
benevolent dragonkind. There are the children of Tiamat, the mother of
evil dragons. Whatever is down there is ancient, and I believe it was
locked away for a reason. Don’t G’ruk’s followers themselves quote the
human loremasters who said, ‘That is not dead which can eternal
lie/and with strange eons even death may die.’ Those were not words
meant to give us comfort.”

Indranil replies, “Drago, you have done wonders. I must offer a word of caution. You are new to your powers and the nuances of them. I would caution to rely to heavily on the words of prophecy and vision for those usually are not what they seem on the surface. The powers of magic wil seek to twist the newly initiated to their purposes.”

“Cousin, I agree with you the main threat is the greater one to all of humanity. I also agree whatever has been locked away down there was done so on purpose. And if Grucka… excuse me, G’Ruk, is trying to free it and King Strongoen guard it it is likely no friend of humanity.”

“Although I do think a quick assualt on the villa might be possible to rescue Saevra first. Then we can go after G’Ruk.”

“So this power that has captured G’ruk’s ambitions may not be the Immortal King… or it may… or it may be powerful enough to unite the Beastmen whatever it might be.

“If that’s the case, I can’t help but think we need to stop G’ruk immediately. His meddling may awaken something that is too dangerous to ignore.

“Looking at these maps Drago drew of the second level of the caverns it would appear there is another entrance. (OOC: I am looking at the map titled Level Two Beastmen Cavern)” Fingol points at point at the top left of the page “Here is a stair leading down that ends very near the temple. What we need to know is if that stair leads from the outside. If we can take that, perhaps stop G’ruk before he does any further damage.”

“I can live that plan,” Drago replies to Fin. (Is this the map of the level below Huat Vex, beneath the palace? If so….) That hallway goes back into the palace. One secret on each side of the palace from below, that I saw. I am sure there are many ways down there. I suspect Ulmar will know some other ways. Seava first, then G’ruk. Agreed.”

Newt asks “Drago, how did you recognize my father? Before he said anything about me, I mean.”

Drago ponders a moment, then tells the tale in the third person.

“My, but gnolls and minotaurs certainly are stirred up, aren’t they?” asks the major-domo Bitterbark as he steps into Drago’s cell several long tedious hours later. “Let us chat for a little bit. I am curious to hear your tale.”

Drago blinks, stretches, and asks, “How so, milord?”

“I am curious as to what could have led the Keolanders they say you traveled with back to Thracia. Did you find a map or did someone lead you back here? Was it one of your former comrades perhaps?”

Drago nods, then replies, “The Keolanders found an ancient manuscript in a Deathwalker shrine in the swamps. Their clerics were able to translate enough of it to lead us here.”

“Is that so? There wasn’t a young girl with you from Cypress Hill?”

Drago gasps softly. He pauses, cocks his head, looks Bitterbark in the eyes and says softly, “Are you both safe?”

Bitterbark’s eyes widen. He puts his paw to his snout to shush Drago. Then he whispers, “So you know. Thanks the gods, our little one is safe; but maybe not for long. The gnolls and the lizardfolk are hunting them down as we speak. We must both get out of here at once if we are to save your friends. Gather your gear and come with me. I am Ulmar, the father of Newt. Her mother Saeva is still being held by the Deathwalkers in their villa. We can talk later, for now we must get out and quietly.”

Drago silently smiles toothily as he quietly gathers his gear and follows Ulmar as instructed. Drago is giddy with happiness. He slobbers absentmindedly. Newt will be so happy!

Newt ponders what she has heard carefully before saying “No one really knows who or what the Immortal King is, right? It could be Drago’s ancestor, or it could be some all-powerful force of evil? Drago, I feel terrible saying after you’ve helped me so much to find my family, but finding the Immortal King isn’t something we should risk. We should look elsewhere for your ancestor, and leave this thing to slumber in its cavern until those with power enough can destroy it.”

“Perhaps, perhaps so,” replies Drago. Looking around at everyone now, “However, I hope you all realize that if we kill G’ruk tomorrow, I will need to leave you for a time, to establish my dominance with the renegades. I may live or I may die, but it is my destiny to try. Perhaps Ulmar will consent to join me as my 2nd in command to assist in the conquest of their mind. He has a life established there as well. If the Immortal King turns into an evil reptile after all, we will have His Majest’s armies at our disposal to take it down.

Fingol shows a momentary look of surprise at Drago’s plans. “Remember that we will be reporting back to Westkeep, and so to Chief Rahk, regarding our actions here.”

Drago replies, “Thank you, Sir Fingol. Please do report to Chief Rahk on your return. I, of course, will not be leaving. This is the city of my ancestors. The blood of dragons simmers in my blood. I must follow its scent. Uh, uh, are you leaving soon? I have completely lost track of time.”

“Oh, and if we succeed, please tell Rahk about G’ruk’s death scene in detail. He will enjoy it.” Drago smiles.

Fingol shows a momentary look of surprise at Drago’s plans. “Remember that we will be reporting back to Westkeep, and so to Chief Rahk, regarding our actions here.”

Adalwfulf’s face has increasingly darkened the longer Drago spoke. As Drago finishes he ruefully mutters, “I think I am beginning to see that my suspicions of allegiance to Chaos were misdirected.” He then forces himself to be silent to hear the others speak.

Ulmar comments, “The city of Huvat Vex predates this human city,” he
gestures to the surface ruins. “From what I have been able to gather,
Huvat Vex was the city of the ancient lizardfolk when they were ruled
by the Immortal King. Drago, I know you think the Immortal King is the
copper dragon Kopep, but I have to say that I have seen no indication
of any dragons, copper or otherwise, in, near, or under Thracia. In
any case, Kopep could only be hundreds of years old, but Shaman G’ruk believes that the Immortal King may be thousands of years old. I
certainly want to rescue Saeva as quickly as may be, but I fear what
will happen if Shaman G’ruk should discover and awaken the Immortal
King.”

Adalwulf says, “Whatever we do, I must tell you all that I have very
few spells left, and those would not be of much use if we are to go
into combat again, whether against Patriarch Tavasmok or Shaman G’ruk.”

Ulmar responds to Fingol, “I did not wish to risk prying into G’ruk’s
thoughts. If he detected my presense he would have come after me I am sure. And yet, his dreams are leading him on and, if anything, making him even more hateful and vicious. I do believe that whatever power is down there is leading G’ruk, and it is not a good influence on him. I also have to wonder, though the copper dragon’s are mostly aligned with the powers of Good, why would one so ancient have been trapped so long in a place as dire as this? Wouldn’t his kin have freed him in all this time if that was the case? And there are other types of dragons as well, those not aligned with Bahamut, the lord of
benevolent dragon kind. There are the children of Tiamat, the mother of evil dragons. Whatever is down there is ancient, and I believe it was
locked away for a reason. Don’t G’ruk’s followers themselves quote the
human lore masters who said, ‘That is not dead which can eternal
lie/and with strange eons even death may die.’ Those were not words
meant to give us comfort.”

Indranil replies, “Drago, you have done wonders. I must offer a word of caution. You are new to your powers and the nuances of them. I would caution to rely to heavily on the words of prophecy and vision for those usually are not what they seem on the surface. The powers of magic will seek to twist the newly initiated to their purposes.

“Cousin, I agree with you the main threat is the greater one to all of humanity. I also agree whatever has been locked away down there was done so on purpose. And if Grucka… excuse me, G’Ruk, is trying to free it and King Strongoen guard it it is likely no friend of humanity.

“Although I do think a quick assualt on the villa might be possible to rescue Saevra first. Then we can go after G’Ruk.”

Newt changes subject, “Oh yes. I see. It was when he asked about a young girl that must have tipped you off” observes Newt.

“I’d like to know more about your personal goals. They seem to be coloring your judgment regarding the Immortal King. Is this your last, final clue to finding your ancestor? The consequences of contacting this being could be so dire—I think you should only attempt contact with the Immortal King after you have tried everything, everything else first.”

Adalwulf interrupts, “Pardon me Newt, Fingol, Drago, but I would like to say something. I must remind you all that until I rest, I will not be fit to channel anymore divine energies nor will I be able to use divine spellcraft. Therefore, I will have no chance of overcoming an enemy cleric. I am not even sure I am a fit enough vessel for the light of Pholtus to have a chance of overcoming Tavasmok on my own even fully rested. However, if we must confront him tonight, our only chance is to get his holy symbol away from him as soon as possible. Back there,” he gestures to the squat building, “Indranil, Grim, and I overcame two Deathwalker priests through teamwork, and because I was able to disarm the last priest of his holy symbol and stop him from killing us with the emanation of the deadly forces of the Negative Material Plane.”

“Also, and I am sure you will be surprised to hear me say this, “I agree with Drago, though I will honestly say that I do not fully trust him. The Deathwalker rank and file may not themselves be totally given over to evil. If their priests were eliminated we might be able to win them over to the light. In any case, I do not believe they are aligned with Chaos. They seem to be Lawful, and only as far as that goes may be fit temporary allies against the Chaos and for the moment greater evil of King Stronghoen and Shaman G’ruk.”

Newt says with a sigh “I don’t like it, but I agree that the rescue will have to wait until tomorrow. It may have been necessary, but it’s too bad the Deathwalkers were put on alert.”

With a sidelong glance at Drago and smiling wryly, Newt adds “And don’t feel bad about distrusting Drago. I think I’m the only person here who does.” Newt jabs Drago’s ribs with her elbow as she says this.

Twilight, Readying 20, 591

Newt, with Drago in tow, swims back into view of Fingol and the others
as they are contemplating how to cross the river.

Drago sees that they are on the opposite bank of the lizardfolk
enclave. The bonfire lights up the area dimly or not at all on this
bank of the river. The lizardfolk are cowering behind their hide tents
on the others side and he sees at least three dead lizardfolk with
arrows in them and many javelins stuck in the sand on this side.

For their part, Fingol, Lorindel, Rain, and Aramek see that Drago no
longer has his bandolier but is bearing a finely made sword and a
shield decorated with silver and platinum tracery along with inlaid
carnelians.

Now in the better light, Drago sees that Newt has a greenish tinge to her hair and a bluish tint to her complexion, pointed ears, webbed hands and feet (she must have slipped off her boots), almond eyes and more angular features.

“Drago!” Fingol gasps “Newt had said she heard you were about, but I never really expected to see you alive. When Sir Indranil banished you, I thought Thracia would be your undoing. Instead, you seem to have profited.”

“Look what followed me home! Can I keep him?” jokes Newt as she approaches Fingol and the others.

Speaking quickly, with great excitement, Newt spits out the following with scarecely a breath taken one she starts. “There’s a bridge downstream, but there’s a crabby albino giant on it. Ten feet tall and he doesn’t like all the noise we’re making.

“Indranil is up above us with Aatu, and they have my father with them! But they are under attack by giant bats. They’ve slain one–big as an ox. I’m not kidding–but probably need our help.

“Drago may know more about this Immortal King, but he says we don’t have to chase down G’ruk right now.” Finally she takes a breath.

Drago nods while Newt speaks, admiring her colorful form.

Then he bows deeply to Fingol and the others in fellowship, “Don’t give up hope yet. The night is young. By returning to you, I have become Enemy #1 to your enemies. It would seem that only Sir Indranil no longer wants me dead. We have made our peace.”

Fingol listens to all this breathless whirlwind, “Well, what do we need to do right now? It sounds like Sir Indranil could use some help. Can you show us the way, and we’ll save the conversation until he… and the dwarves are safe?”

When Aramek sees Drago he breaks into a big grin and says, “By all the gods and goddesses, I am very happy to see you alive.! Welcome back!” And even Snoop, picking up on his friends joy, squeaks happily.

Offering a deep bow, Drago replies simply, “Greetings, Master.”

Rain smiles big and puts her arm around Drago’s scaly shoulder and says simply “It is so good to see you”.

Lorindel approaches Drago and clasps him in a firm handshake and offers a quick nod to welcome him back.

“Then someone lead us back to him,” Fin pleads, “so that we can all be reunited.”

“Yes, let’s go get Indranil so we are at full strength.”

Newt replies, “I’ve been worried for the dwarves, too.

“I don’t know the way up. Drago, how can we get back up there?”

Looking to Newt, Drago replies, “I only know the way through the lizardfolk camp, but that is too dangerous and would take too long. It would probably be best to have everyone float down river (to avoid the darkmantles) and then climb the rope you described. Can we miss the giant that way?”

“The rope is upstream, but the climb up will be very challenging. We’d have to climb hand over hand as there is no wall to brace against.”

“If we have to cross the river, than Rain had a good plan. Is that the way you know Drago?”

Drago says to everyone, “Gather around. Here’s what we face.” He then draws the tunnels as he remembers them. “If we cross the river here at the lizardfolk camp, we will have to fight the lizards directly and then pass through a room guarded by gnolls. I know the password but they have probably changed it by now, and besides they would see you and then we would be trapped like mice on two sides. There are more gnolls stationed in the temple. I don’t know how many, but that is the entrance to Huvat Vex, so probably there are quite a few. Anyway, we don’t need to go that way. Instead we head up the long stairway, turn right, and head out. There is another gnoll guard post along the way, but we don’t have to go through that room, although they will probably see us. There will be more gnoll guards at the entrance to the surface too.

“This path would be very dangerous, but I have another idea. Newt saw G’ruk enter a secret door in the cliff next to the river in the Deathwalker Cavern. If I am not mistaken, that should come out somewhere along the west wall here. If we are lucky, we will be able to avoid the first gnoll guard post completely and avoid detection until we are almost out. The choice is yours.” Drago looks around at the others.

“I like the idea of using the secret door, though, but we still need to get everyone across the river. What was Rain’s idea for that? I missed it.”

Rain says “Um Drago… where is Indranil?”

“Yes!” Fin jumps in “We can’t leave without him.”

Last I saw, Indranil still hadn’t crossed the first bridge. So if you have no other plan on how to escape, once we get out, we may still have to battle gnolls, minotaurs, lizards, and the Deathwalker army as we cross back to the Deathwalker Cavern and try to get back in the locked door which is guarded by the dwarves and Father Adulwulf.” Drago shrugs. “No problemo, Newt’s father and I did it.” Drago smiles again.

Speaking of, the fellowship then hears faintly, echoing from above and downstream: “Aatu with me! Attack!” Indranil shouts.

A little while later, even fainter, you hear Indranil shout the following as a battle cry, “Vandria!”

Then you hear, also faint, the sound of Adalwulf intoning, “Om!”

And of course the far-off clash of arms that must be coming from one of the tunnels leading into the chasm, perhaps the one connected to the stairs up to the chamber the dwarves for holding.

Frustrated, Fin replies, “I don’t follow you at all. What locked door are you referring to? None of your explanations explain anything. If you know how to get to Indranil, please say so plainly. Tell us if we need to cross the river or not. Tell us if we have to climb up to the ground level or not. Tell us what direction we need to go to do any of those things!”

Drago pauses and looks at Fin, “No, I don’t know how to get to Indranil, except through the lizardfolk camp and three growing armies that want to kill us. The locked door I referred to is the entrance to the building above the Deathwalker Cavern. At least that’s what the locals it. You sent Adalwulf back to help guard it. When one enters the building, you go down stairs. Then there are two bridges, one that crosses the chasm and the other goes off to the right where you have not yet explored, off the center of the first bridge. I was on the bridge to the right fighting a Deathwalker when the giant bats attacked me, causing the bridge to break. It is now hanging 20′ from the ground, if we can get to it to climb up. Indranil and the others have not yet crossed either bridge, last I saw.”

Rain says “It sounds like our options are to climb back up the rope we just climbed down, or to follow this river southwest and around the corner to some unknown location to try and reach Indi that way.”

Drago nods and says, “Yes, that’s the other option. Newt, do you have anything to add?”

“So Drago, is there a way to get back up to where Indi and the others are if we continue downstream in the river?”

Drago shrugs, “I don’t know. Only Newt knows that. Newt?”

“I don’t think climbing the rope is an option for me,” says Lorindel. “I’d never make it to the top, or at least have a difficult time doing so. I think the best bet is to get to where the bridge has fallen. It’s a shorter climb to reach what now appears to be a rope ladder.”

Drago nods and says, “We’ll be climbing with Deathwalkers shooting arrows at us and an ox sized bat swooping down on us.”

“I do more before ’9 bells’ than most people do in an entire day,” says Lorindel with a smirk.

“OK,” Fin jumps in, “If I am following all this, our situation is this. Climbing up the rope would put us up on Indranil’s level, but the rope bridges are down. So while we’d be at the right elevation, we’d be on the wrong side of a chasm. So I’m ruling out the rope.

“We need to go downstream and try to make it to that broken rope bridge. However, I am not sure we should climb up it. Instead, we should have him climb down and we’ll all go after G’ruk. Evidently he’s close and Newt says the lizardfolk were talking about him reviving the Immortal King. I don’t know what that means, but it sounds bad. And it may be what the Great Druidess warned us about. I don’t want to leave that to chance.”

“We’ll have to bypass the darkmantles, if that is what attacked me earlier, by making torches. I am sure they won’t like the taste of those. If we can’t, we’ll go through with our weapons held up. They won’t like the taste of those either. I wouldn’t mind seeing one spear itself on the point of my sword.”

Drago shrugs, “Torches are what attracted the giant bats in the first place. Also the lizardfolk won’t walk along the banks of this river because of the darkmantles. If that is your choice, Newt and I will swim along beside you guys where it is safe. Other than that, your plan is okay… but my vote would be to let G’ruk awaken the Immortal King, if he knows where he is, which I seriously doubt. If I am right, Shaman G’ruk and King Stronghoen will be killed and I will pacify the awaken one and… well… I bet my life on it. This is my destiny. The wave of death sweeping across the land will not be the Immortal King. It is the army of beast-men bent upon humanity’s destruction that you should fear. This is why I returned to you. When we have more time, I can tell you the full story.

“If we can’t use torches, then we will hold up weapons as we pass under the darkmantles.” Fin replies “Let’s get going, we’ve spent enough time here.”

Drago nods, silently assenting to the plan and then straps his gear to his back. When he sees that Aramek only has a staff, Drago offers, “Master, you may borrow my new magic sword if you wish. It will be more effective to protect yourself.”

Aramek nods, “Thank you for the offer, my friend, but I know my limits and close in fighting is not my forte. Not even being seen till it’s too late is much more my style.” And Aramek gives a devilish grin. “Besides, you’ll certainly have more need and use for it than I.”

Aramek looks at Fingol. “Sir, Fingol, since my quarterstaff and crossbow will not be very intimidating to the darkmantles, I believe this might be an appropriate time for me to go invisible. What say you?”

“Whatever you think best.” Fingol replies.

“Very well, whenever we begin to run the darkmantle gauntlet, Snoop will duck inside my cloak and I’ll go invisible. Just say the word.”

Drago adds, “Wherever you see stalactites, there are likely darkmantles. They look the same.”

Newt puts her boots in her pack, sure to need them later.

“Sir Fingol,” asks Newt “have you got a grappling hook in that bag of yours? You seem to have everything esle… Anyway, perhaps we could knot a rope (or even make a series of loops), attach it to the hook, then catch that rope bridge that’s dangling. We then climb the rope to the bridge and the bridge up the rest of the way.

Fin replies, “I sure do. Picked it up from the assassins that attacked Prince Prospero. And that is exactly how I intend to get up that rope bridge.”

Just as everyone prepares to make their way, carefully, around the
bend of the river, a voice calls down from the stone bridge overhead.
“Newt! Are you down there!” It is the voice of Ulmar, Newt’s father.

“I’m here! Yes, I’m here!” Newt shouts back joyfully (but without thinking). “Are you okay Father? I can’t see you. We’re trying to get up to your level!”

“Thank the gods you’re alive! Can you climb back up? Where are your
companions? We’re having some problems with the Deathwalkers up here,
but I’m okay at the moment. At least, no one is shooting at me. Hold
on, I’ll come down there.”

Quicker than you would have thought possible, Ulmar clambers down the rope, and all present see that he is a rather large chimpanzee with a shield and short bow slung on his back, a quiver of arrows at his side, and a lizardfolk spiked war club tucked in his belt. He is otherwise dressed only in a lizardfolk loincloth. Then the ape man runs and embraces his sea-elf daughter.

“On any other day, that would seem strange.” Fingol states flatly.

“Ulmar, it is good to see you again!” joins Drago as he smiles happily at their reunion.

Rain smiles but then says “Fin, we really need to get going…”

“Agreed! Sir, it is wonderful you are well. But we are dearly pressed for time. We need to head downstream to our friend. To get through, we have to either swim or hike through an area with monsters that drop from the cave ceiling. Follow us, please.”

Ulmar transforms himself into an aquatic elf and then dives into the river with Newt and Drago. “I’ll chance the river if you don’t mind,” he says to Fingol.

Newt, Drago, and Ulmar begin swimming downriver. As the others begin to enter the darkmantle field, it all goes black as magical darkness descends on the area. Only those with darkvision can see through it.

Once the torches are made and the Dancing Lights spell is cast, Fingol
and the others attempt to move into the field, but they find that the
darkness swallows up Aramek’s dancing lights, and the everburning
torchesonly produce a dim light, though that is enough to allow Fingol
(whose magically enhanced vision is still operative), Aramek, and
Lorindel to see.

Fingol and Lorindel peer into the shadows and up among the stalactites
they see the glimmer of the darkmantle’s red eyes watching them. The
darkmantles appear to be two to four feet long and their camouflaged
hide allows them to blend in with the stalactites they are wrapped
around.

Rain says, “This is stupid! Let’s just run past them already!”

Fingol and Lorindel point them out to Aramek and Rain, the latter
though still can’t see them as it is too dark for her.

Rain says, “This is stupid! Let’s just run past them already!”

Fingol explains, “Now that we can see them, we can shoot them down.
Here, Rain, hold this torch.”

Fingol and Lorindel with their bows, and Aramek with his wand of magic
missiles, then proceed to pick off the darkmantles as they move slowly
through the field of stalatctites and stalacmites, while Rain lights
their way.

Drago is swimming under water with father and daughter, oblivious to what’s happening with the land dwellers. His thoughts are with Newt and Ulmar. By now they have exchanged their stories…. Drago wants to show Newt everything, but not until after he gets to tell his side first. Drago puts up a mental wall against any deep probe until then.

Lorindel picks one off immediately with one well-aimed shot. Fingol
hits another, and then Aramek uses his wand of magic missiles to
strike it as well. Newt and Ulmar come to the edge of the river and
fire their bows at it as well, as does Drago who can now see it in the
dim torchlight once everyone else has begun firing at it. One more
arrow from Fingol brings it down as well. A third falls dead due to
another well placed arrow by Lorindel. Aramek fires another magic
missile at a fourth, and Newt, Ulmar, and Drago loose their arrow at
it as well bringing it down too. Then four of the creatures all drop
away from the stalactites and propel themselves towards those on the
ground using their webbed tentacles like wings. The others dodge, but
Fingol and Aramek are struck and the darkmantles embrace their heads
and shoulders with their hook lined tentacles, using their
considerable strength to constrict about their throats. Fingol
succeeds in tearing the darkmantle off of him, though it leaves bloody
wounds all over his face and neck. Rain drops her torches, draws her
blades, and runs the creature through before it can flap away.
Lorindel, meanwhile, drops his bow and unsheathing his shortsword move in on Aramek and deftly cuts the creature away. It falls dead to the floor. Chittering, the other two fly away off into the darkness of the other side of the river.

Snoop, who had been secure inside Aramek’s cloak furiously, but unsuccessfully, tried to get out so he could he help his fried fight the evil beast attacking him. Once the creature was killed Snoop was out on Aramek’s shoulder alternately licking his wounds and shrieking at the evil fling things.

Aramek thanks Lorindel profusely and then, knowing he’s been injured, pulls out a healing potion.

The river runs on for some distance past the bend in the river. The
gravelly banks continue on both sides. Past the stalactites and
stalacmites is a run down cottage constructed of fieldstone and roofed
with straw thatch. The thatch is moldy and rotting due to the high
humidity caused by the river. The floor of the cavern in this area is
covered with sand. Thrust into the sand in front of the cottage is a
crude spear. Mounted on the protruding spear is a bleached skull of a
lizardman. Various crude and arcane symbols are painted on the brow of the skull. A little ways past that, in the light of the everburning
torches, they can see the end of the rope bridge dangling 20’ over the
river.

From the darkness above, they can hear Indranil shouting down to them, “Drago! Drago! Drago, can you hear me?” An everburning torch on the end of a rop is then lowered down to the river.

“Indranil, it’s me,” calls Lorindel. “Drago is with us. Oh, by the way, pleased to see that you’re not dead.”

“Shut up!” booms a gloomy and very put upon sounding person from the darkness downriver.

Fingol turns to Aramek, “Can you cast Message to him and tell him we are on our way up? I don’t care to yell around here. Someone dislikes the noise.”

Indranil can lower the rope about 40′. He can see that 50′ below the lip of the chasm is an underground river with sandy banks on either side. There seems to be some kind of cottage down there on the bank. Standing nearby is Fingol, Rain, Lorindel, and Aramek. Swimming in the river is Newt, Ulmar (her father who must have found the way down after crossing the chasm), and Drago (who indeed survived being hit with with an arrow, feasted on by two giant bats, and the collapse of the rope bridge and a 50′ fall).

Whispering, Newt suggests “Maybe Sir Indranil can lower a rope, if the grappling hook doesn’t work out.”

She keeps an eye down-river, in case the noise-averse giant should try taking an active role in quieting the neighborhood.

Indranil says, “Well met indeed! And Newt is with you safe! And Drago too! By the Goddesses this is god news. The top is secure for now but I can’t say for how long. It looks like the gnolls and rogue Malarat are now allied. Perhaps you can climb up using this rope or the bridge that has fallen?”

Fingol looks up “Hush! Someone down here doesn’t like noise! We’ll be up in a few.”

Drago casts his message spell and replies to Indranil, “Yes, I am safe, milord. Newt saved me from drowning.”

Fingol looks up from his knot tying, “A Malarat drowning? How embarrassing.”

“I don’t think his soul would survive the embarrassment. That’s why I pulled him out” jokes Newt.

Indranil while he waits upon his friends to climb up draws his rope and torch back up and then stows them in his pack.

He turns to Grim and says, “Grim the fellowship has returned and they are all alive, including Drago who took that horrible fall. They are climbing back up now.”

Indranil replying back through the message spell says, “Drago! I am relieved. When you fell from the bridge with an arrow in your side I was distraught thinking how tragic it was that after finding you I lost you again so soon. I am pleased!” Then with a smile in his reply he continues, “Newt has pulled your tail out of a tight situation twice now! She is truly your guardian angel.”

Dago replies simply. “Yes, indeed, yes, indeed.”

Fingol hooks the fallen bridge and everyone climbs the knotted rope up to the fallen rope bridge and then makes it up to the regular rope bridge and back to the stairwell to the surface side of the rope bridge that is still handing across the chasm.

Newt and Drago just have a bit of stiffness and some light bruises, Adawulf and Fingol are hurting, but Indranil is really hurting (and he’s already been healed several times over by Adalwulf during the fight, so you just guess how much damage he’s taken in the past half hour or so.)

Newt leaves the potions to those who really need them. If there are any left at distribution then she may carry one or two in case Drago needs them again.

Drago says, “I’ll take a few, if you have any extra healing potions. I’m out.”

Kneeling before Fingol, Indranil draws his sword and offering it to Fingol pommel up says, “Sir Fingol something must be said immediately. I acknowledge you as rightful leader of this party without hesitation or reserve and pledge to follow you until death or you release me.”

Fingol coughs, “You have pledged your fealty to the Lion Throne and you serve at the pleasure of Prince Prospero. Swear nothing which takes that which is rightfully theirs. I thank you for acknowledging that this command now rests with me. And while we serve together know that I will protect you with my life also.”

Indranil sheathes his sword and stands giving Fingol another bow. “Sir Fingol, Father Adalwulf is upstairs in the room above. The Deathwalker replacement squad, including the two hooded clerics, were slain by Grim, his warriors, Father Adalwulf and I just before we found each other again. For now things above are quiet. But the gnolls and an unknown band of Malarat are allied and twice now have sought to gain control of the building above and this passage. They were twice driven off by the Deathwalker replacement squad, but with Deathwalkers slain they could reappear and threaten us again at anytime. I know not the disposition of the remaining Deathwalkers but it looks like we have killed two full squads of them between us.”

Fingol reaches out to shake Sir Indranil’s hand “Thank you for coming back to rescue us. For it would appear that is what you’ve done. Let’s get outside before any other band of gods-know-what attack again. I don’t think we need to be in these caverns any longer; we have been rescued and Ulmer found us. That is all we were hoping for here. And Drago has a piece to these mysteries that I would like to hear in length. Depending on what he has to say, we may have more work to do before we rescue the damsel in distress and ride off into the sunset. The world may require more competent heroes than us, but we’re the only ones in shouting distance.”

Newt recalls that Drago had wanted to show something but had stopped. When the fellowship is clear of the darkmantles and back in normal marching order she puts her hand on his shoulder (‘There’s the tough skin again. I remember having skin like that!’ she thinks.) and says just to him “Drago, is now a good time? Did you want to say anything?” She puts a bit of emphasis on the word “say,” to be clear in her meaning.

Drago says simply to the other, “Yes, if you all still want to fight, you need to hear my tale, so that you are not basing your actions upon half truths. I have been your spy in the Underworld living amongst the lizardfolk, and then today spent the day in Huvat Vex. You need to hear my tale. It will only take a few minutes for the most important tactical information. Otherwise, let’s go back to your camp and tell our stories before making decisions.”

“Will you show me now?” asks Newt. “Or tell us. If we follow this up quickly we may surprise the villa and rescue my mother. However, I know much of the decision will depend on how many spells you, Sir Aramek and Father Adalwulf can cast in what’s left of the day.”

Drago replies, “I need to rest to replenish. I am not battle ready. It’s been a long, long day.

As Fingol finishes Newt throws a huge hug around Sir Indranil. “You came back! I’m so happy you did! Thank you thank you thank you! It wasn’t the same without you.” She releases him and drops to her feet, perhaps a bit embarrassed by her display, but too happy to see him to really care about being embarrassed.

Indranil smiles warmly and bending down he kisses the top of Newt’s head and says, “Do not be embarrassed Adelina, I am grateful for your welcome. I too missed you. The goddesses saved me, but it was a narrow thing, I was far gone down the path to darkness. But that tale must wait for fairer times.”

Rain too has a warm smile for Indranil but does not say anything now, the current situation warranting quick action.

“Fingol, we still need to keep in mind the powerful Cleric which we have to assume stile resides in the villa. With most of his warriors dead I am not sure our plan of drawing him out will work now.”

Fingol starts moving toward the exit. “On the contrary, I am hoping that the losses he’s suffered is what does draw him out. After all, he must be running out of minions to waste. And he is going to have to find out what is happening to them all. Given he so easily defeated a gnoll army before, I am sure he’s too arrogant to hide in his Villa. And if what I am hearing about gnoll and Malarat attacks to this building are true, we shouldn’t have to worry about making it look like a gnoll attack. It is one in truth. So let’s just get out of these caverns so we don’t get bottled up again and pull away to a safe distance. We’ll discuss our next moves there.”

“Let’s move then” says Newt. “I think our ambush targets came to us when we were a bit late setting up. We should go somewhere safer and rethink things.

After you, Sir Fingol.”

Rain says “The fight seems to be between the Gnoll/Lizards and Deathwalkers… I would suggest the Arena. We will have the best view and most likely will not be scouted or attacked since they are busy with each other.”

I was thinking of the area of the city indicated on the city map as “fragmented walls/buildings” between the pool and the rotunda. Depending on where exactly we go, it might have a view of both buildings (or neither?).

I’d love to use the rotunda, but I’m SURE there is something nasty living in it.

Rain replies “What if there is something else living there which may take offense to us being there. It may draw attention. Best I think to use a known location. Your call, lets just get going quick.”

“Thank you Lady Rain, I was unaware of what you had and had not scouted while I was in Melkot.” Fingol replies. “The arena it is. We’ll still be close enough to capitalize on any movements the high priest makes.”

“No, I would like you, Sir Indranil, Adelina, Ulmar, Sirs Indranil and Aramek, Father Adalwulf, Drago, Grim and Morgrym to accompany me up to where we can observe the city and confer on our next steps.” Fingol replies

Once every one is up at a point where we can see the Villa, Fingol begins “I know everyone is eager to rest and regroup. But there may be events going on tonight that require swift action.

If the High Priest of these Deathwalkers comes out of the villa to see who destroyed his caverns, that would be our chance to try to free Adelina’s mother. And as much as I would like to make that our first priority, I heard something from Adelina about an Immortal King being awakened. Adelina, tell us what you heard, please. We may have to move immediately if that is some sort of threat.”

In between the hasty planning discussion Indranil slips over to Lorindel and clasps forearms in a warriors handshake saying, “Brother you are a welcome sight. I am pleased to see you alive and well. I have much to tell you. I was visited by the Goddess and taken back to revisit a distant memory with you.”

Before Newt can respond, Adalwulf steps forward and says, “Hold! I
have kept silent until now, because we were in grave danger. But I
would know what manner of beings this Ulmar and his daughter Adelina
actually are? I saw with my own eyes how this one,” he points to
Ulmar, “had been transformed into an ape and then changed back again.
And this one,” he points to Newt who had neglected to change back into
her human form, “is now some kind elf. Are you sorcerers then like Sir
Aramek? Or something else? I do not believe you Evil, but are you…
creatures of Chaos?”

The dwarves nod at this and Grim says, “I would also like to know, for
we saw Drago and Ulmar both change themselves.”

Ulmar says, “Sir Fingol, with your permission, I will endeavor to
explain, for you are all honorable men and woman, that I can see. I
think you deserve the truth, for you have risked your lives many times
now to save ours.”

Fingol nods, “I apologize to our friends for not being forthcoming. My omission was intended to protect your daughter, who kept her secrets a long time before explaining herself. She is a fine person. I think it speaks well of your nature, and that of your wife’s, that you raised such a good person.”

“Please do explain your natures to our friends. For I’m afraid I cannot. And I am not sure if any explanation wouldn’t simply spawn more questions. For my part, I know Adelina can be trusted, more than just that actually, and I am content with that.”

“Well said Cousin. We are known by our deeds not fine words. Adelina has proven herself a loyal companion ten times over.”

Twilight, Readying 20, 591

Indranil responds to Drago’s forgiveness, “Bless you, Drago. I can see you have accomplished much good on your own. I look forward to leisure time to hear your full story, but you’re right. From what little I saw on the way, we are in great danger! We’ll have plenty of time to talk later.”

Standing and looking at Grim, Indranil says, “Grim, well met! Can you lead us to the rest of the fellowship? We’re about to be overrun. There is no sense remaining here. Gather your rear-guard warriors and come with us.”

“Drago, can you lay some trap on this door to activate as a nasty surprise when opened? Also, do you have any healing left? Aatu is near death.”

Drago replies, “A trap? I am no rogue. And I am almost out of healing potions. Don’t you have a cleric nearby?”

Indranil replies, “I have no idea where the rest of the fellowship is. Never mind. Let us hurry.”

“Did someone call for a cleric?” asks Adalwulf as he charges up the stairs, with Morgrym and six other dwarves behind him. As he emerges he sees Grim and the three dwarves who had been left to guard the building, and also Indranil, Drago, and Ulmar. “Indranil, you’ve returned! And who are these with you?”

“I was wondering that myself,” mutters Grim, “but they seem to be old friends or something…”

“Never mind that, introductions later,” says Adalwulf. “Newt has fallen into some underground river at the bottom of a chasm and the others are trying to rescue here. Actually they’re all heading down there to join here. She says that some shaman is trying to awaken an Immortal King. Fingol sent us back here to reinforce you so you won’t be overrun. I also have healing potions and my own spells, it looks like you and Aatu will need them.”

Adalwfulf lays aside his shield and staff and takes up his silvery sun disk. He reaches out to lay his hands upon the wound and calls upon the healing light of Pholtus. The wound completely closes. Aatu happily licks Adalwulf’s hand in wolfish gratitude.

Adalwulf pulls a potion from his pack and hands it to Indranil. “We liberated this from the Deathwalker’s down below. Many of them carry potent healing potions with them. I only have one other though, so this will have to do for now.” Indranil drinks it and within moments his wounds have all healed except for a bit of bruising and stiffness.

Adalwulf says, “I can help the dwarves up here, there’s no way I can make it down the chasm. Go down and save her and the others. We can have formal introductions later. If they take this building, the dwarves and I will retreat and hold them at the stairwell. If we have to we will cut the rope bridges below. Have no fear. They won’t overrun us.”

Grim and Morgrym nod in unison. Morgrym says, “He’s right, Indranil, get down there and help them. Hilric! Take them to the stone bridge.”

“Yes sir!” says one of the dwarves who came up with Morgrym and Adalwulf.

As they head down into the Deathwalkers Cavern, Drago says to Ulmar, “Can you sense her yet?”

Ulmar shakes his head, “No, we must be within 60’ of each other to pick up thoughts or the signals of other Doppelgangers. I must confess, I thought all of Adelina’s companions knew of her nature, I did not realize the dwarves and that priest of Pholtus were not included in the secret. I thank you all for your discretion and am ashamed that I made such a hasty assumption.” He shrugs, “No help for it now, and I am more worried about Newt than about discretion.”

Hilric leads Indranil, Drago, and Ulmar down a long dark stairway. Before long, Indranil and Drago find themselves stumbling and having to reach out to the wall. Hilric and Ulmar have no trouble in the pitch black however, and at the bottom of the stairwell they come to a passage that heads off to their left for about 15’ before coming to a chasm. The chasm is crossed by rope bridges which are dimly lit by everburning torches set in the walls of tunnels on the far side of the chasm straight ahead and to their right. Just around the corner from the bottom of the stairwell another dead Deathwalker lies in a pool of his own blood.

“Be wary,” says Hilric. We cleared some of the rooms before Newt fell, but not all of them, and none of the passages to the right.”

Indranil calls out, “Drago would you follow Hilric? Aatu will go next and I will bring up the rear after you all have crossed.” Indranil, while waiting for his turn removes his Ever-Burning torch from his pack, reslinging his pack and stowing all his weapons he raises the torch high to help provide light for the rest of the movement.

Drago slings his shield and sword across his back, using both hands to hold the rope handrail. Looking down, Drago says to Indranil as they cross, “That may look deep but this is only the first level. Huvat Vex is far below and we just came from beneath that, perhaps from the very lowest levels.” After a brief pause, Drago continues, almost to himself. “Why is Newt talking about G’ruk and the Immortal King? Oh, crap. that means there are lizardfolk down there. We must hurry! They will kill her.”

As Hilric leads Drago, Ulmar, Aatu, and Indranil across the rope bridge a Deathwalker warrior appears in the tunnel to their left and looses an arrow at the dwarf. The arrow skitters off his scale mail.

At the same time, two huge shadowy forms detach themselves from the stalactites 20’ or more above their heads and dive at Indranil whose torchlight alerted them to the possibility of food. Indranil has seen their like before in Westkeep. They are giant furry bats, each nearly the size of an ox, with dark leathery wings that open wider than two men with arms outstretched. They both miss Indranil but wheel around to dive again.

“Hurry,” Drago says to Hilric, “Let’s got off this bridge!”

Indranil jumps back off the bridge and drops the torch in the tunnel, and then smoothly draws his bow and nocks an arrow. He tracks the beasts and prepares to fire at the closest one. He also says, “Aatu! Come! Heel and Defend!”

Aatu and then Ulmar make it back to Indranil’s side. Hilric, dodging another arrow, races for the far side of the chasm and makes it to the safety of the tunnel at the other end. In the light of the everburning torch at the T-intersection behind him he can be seen getting out his crossbow and loading it.

Indranil jumps back off the bridge and drops the torch in the tunnel, and then smoothly draws his bow and nocks an arrow. He tracks the beasts and prepares to fire at the closest one. He also says, “Aatu! Come! Heel and Defend!”

Aatu and then Ulmar make it back to Indranil’s side. Hilric, dodging another arrow, races for the far side of the chasm and makes it to the safety of the tunnel at the other end. In the light of the everburning torch at the T-intersection behind him he can be seen getting out his crossbow and loading it.

The two bats dive at Drago who is the only one left on the bridge, he ducks from one but the other one clamps down on his shoulder and bites down before lifting off again. Drago has to clutch at one of the guardropes to keep from losing his balance.

Indranil lets fly an arrow at the bats and though it sinks into the thick furred hide of one, the bat doesn’t seem too disturbed by it. Hilric takes aim at the other bat and also hits, eliciting a high pitched squak of pain from it.

Ulmar rushes to the bottom of the stairwell to recover the shortbow on the corpse of the dead Deathwalker.

Drago decides to attack the bowman directly. He heads right, shield held high to protect himself from the bats. The other hand slides along the rope. He moves as fast as he can, trying not to fall off the bridge. On his way there Drago roars intimidatingly while imagining himself to be the Deathwalker’s worst nightmare, and unknowingly calls upon the draconic power of sorcery within his blood, although he can feel the strange new spell surge within him.

The Deathwalker’s eyes widen in fear and he gives way but still musters the nerve to fire another arrow at Drago. The arrow buries itself in Drago’s side as his shield was held overheard to ward off the bats. Drago stumbles back in shock just at the end of the bridge. Then both bats descend upon him, ripping into him with their sharp teeth. The weight of the bats is too much however, and the ropes that hold the bridge snap under their weight spilling them and Drago into the void. The bats flutter up to safety, but Drago is lost in the darkness below.

Drago has two healing potions on him, both unbroken. She uncorks one
and spills the contents into his mouth. He coughs and his eyes open,
but he is groggy.

Drago awakens with a cough as someone has poured something down his throat, but he can see nothing. His head is on someone’s lap, and he feels sand beneath his body. He hears the sound of a river flowing
nearby in the blackness.

He hears Newt speaking to him quietly and realizes that she is one
cradling his head in her lap. “Come on, Drago. Give me a sign. I need
you to tell me what’s going on up there! And we need to stop G’ruk!
How will you feel about that when you awake?”

Who would have thought it would sound so good to hear a friend cough and sputter? But Newt is glad of it now.

“Drago, it’s me, Newt. Here, drink this.” She gives him her CMW potion. As he drinks she continues. “There’s a lot to say, but not much time. G’ruk is out to get you. And how do you feel about the Immortal King? What do you know about him?” Newt scans Drago, hoping straight thought will work more quickly than verbal speech.

“Newt… Oh, Newt… I found Ulmar. Scan for your father,” is all Drago can manage to say through his delirium.

This news is so startling that Newt almost drops Drago as she jumps to her feet. But she stops and sets him down gently.

Standing, she tries to stretch her senses over the horizon and beyond, trying to find “Ulmar.”

“Drago!” says Newt, looking down at Drago while still scanning. Her voice is a combination of anxiety and excitement. “Where is he? Where did you leave him?” In her excitement Newt has forgotten to speak quietly, but she doesn’t notice this.

Drago can feel the familiar tingle of Newt’s probe and so responds with his thoughts, “Thank you, dear Newt. I found your father in Huvat Vex, or rather he found me. He is directly above us, probably just out of your range, fighting giant bats with Indranil. We heard you fall from the surface and he is very worried about you. He couldn’t read you either and thought maybe you were dead. Your mother is locked up in the Deathwalker villa. And yes, I know about G’ruk.” Drago tries to laugh but only spits up water. “I’m gonna kill that fat old lizard.” Drago laughs again, this time more successfully.

As Drago gathers his wits about him, he says softly in Keolandish, “How do you know about G’ruk and the Immortal King? Are there lizards nearby?”

Newt is still speaking swiftly. “G’ruk just left through that hidden door in the rock. He’s going to try to awaken the Immortal King. I saw and heard these things just after I fell. He has only three guards with him–the ones who spoke to you just recently to have you go see G’ruk. If we hurry we may catch him while he’s ill-prepared! But oh! How are we to help See– my father?”

“Oh, how can I get back up there? Come Drago, we need to get back to the rope!” She tried to help him up and get him moving upstream, back toward the others.

“Wait…” she says, stopping. “Why is Indranil here? He was going to kill you!” She starts moving again. “And giant bats? Are they with the Deathwalkers?”

Drago chuckles. “So, the fat shaman finally left his tent. Let G’ruk go. The King of Thracia is after him now too. I doubt G’ruk knows where the Immortal King is yet, but even if he does, I want to see what happens, if he is who or what I think he is.

“So, was Indranil gone for awhile? We ran into him outside the building above and saved his life. He apologized profusely for his poor behavior the other day, so I didn’t have to kill him.” Drago chuckles again, spitting up more water.

“The bats live in the caves. They are the size of an ox,” finishes Drago.

With a wry smile in the dark, Newt replies “You might say I fell into the information. And yes, there are lizardfolk attacking our friends upstream. The lizards are at their encampment and our friends are on this side of the river, They’re all trading javelins and arrows, and we need to find a way for weak swimmers to get across so we can chase down G’ruk.” She takes a quick breath as she finishes shooting all that out.

“All these people trying to find their deities in these caves! First the Deathwalkers and Thanatos, and now the lizardfolk and this ‘Immortal King!’ I don’t think they all know what they’re getting into, and it scares me!”

Shifting topics, she continues. “How I wish I could send thoughts to you as well as receive them! It would be so much simpler.

Indranil, well, yes. He left us. It’s complicated and it was sad and ugly. I’m glad you were able to save his life. And I’m glad you aren’t trying to kill each other any more. I’ll have to tell you the details later, though.

How can we get back up to help Father and Indranil?”

Drago takes in this new information. “Where’s the secret door G’ruk used? Is the lizardfolk encampment very close? There are probably a couple dozen lizards there and maybe another couple dozen gnoll nearby as guards….”

Drago suddenly realizes he’s lost his new sword and shield. So he chugs down his last healing potion, drops his remaining weapons on the sand and dives into the river without saying a further word in order to find them.

Still tapped into his mind, this doesn’t surprise Newt.

From out of the darkness in the cavern overhead a loud buzzing is heard followed by hideous cries that echo out of one of the tunnel into the larger cavern.

A little later a bat the size of an ox splashes down, very dead, into the river.

The sound of an arrow ricocheting off steel is heard. “There’s another one!” Hilric the dwarf calls.

After that there is an anguished cry and then a dead Deathwalker lands with a splash.

The sounds of bows and crossbows being fired overhead continues and fainter but getting louder the sounds of the clash of arms and shouting echoing out of one of the tunnels.

Whatever is going on up there is getting increasingly apocalyptic.

Newt hurries to get the dropped equipment. When they are both at the surface again Newt asks “How can we get up there? Please, Drago, we need to hurry!”

Drago realizes that its way too dark from him to see anything. Then he feels a tap on his shoulder. It’s Newt. She’s found the sword and shield and hands them over to him without comment.

When they are both at the surface again Newt asks, “How can we get up there? Please, Drago, we need to hurry!”

At that point from around the river bend you hear the following.

Fingol spins and bolts out from under the stalactites. “Back, get back!” he warns “There’s some sort of creature that dropped down on me. Let’s make torches before we go through there again,” Fingol suggests. “Whatever they are, they aren’t likely to drop down on that.”

Hearing the yelling and splashing from downriver Fingol says, “How long can the dwarves hold out? We’ve got to move!” Fingol exhorts. “It seems everyone is zeroing in on this Immortal King. G’ruk is just ahead of us, and the gnolls are just behind. From what Newt said, I guess Drago is responsible for all this, but the gods alone know what luck led us here at this time. We have no time to lose, or this chance will slip away and Melkot and Westkeep will pay the price!”

From way downriver you hear a loud voice booming: “Stop it! Quiet up there! Why can’t you people leave me in peace!

When they get out of the water Drago thanks Newt profusely for finding his new weapons. Hearing sounds, he understands most of it, but asks Newt, “What, or rather who, was that last voice?”

“That? Oh, that’s just the giant on the bridge. I don’t think we should cross there unless we’re looking for trouble.

Let’s swim back, it will be easier and we can avoid those stalactites. I don’t want anything falling on me. C’mon Drago, follow me.”

Drago replies, “Oh, a giant. And yes, swimming is safer than walking. The things that look like stalactites are called darkmantles. Then fall upon and consume the unwary. The lizardfolk swim the river to avoid them.”

Just before Twilight, Readying 20, 591

Holoste hisses in Common, “Stop your jabbering! We must get to the villa now before we are captured and report to Patriarch Tavasmok!”
Drago looks from one to the other, then says, “Kašvestu selfn!” as he envisions himself as a 7.5′ minotaur. He then says in Common, “Sorry about slapping you back there, Holoste.” Then looking at both of them, “Is the Deathwalkers’ cavern below the villa?”

Holoste steps back a bit unnerved by Drago’s changes. “N…no. The caverns are that way.” He points to the west towards the conjunction of the canals that run north to south and east to west.

“Then you go back to the villa, Holoste,” says Ulmar. “We are going do what we can for those trapped in the caverns.”

Holoste looks as though he were about to object, but then Ulmar begins to growl. Holoste nods and runs off to the south.

“Good, he’s gone. Let’s go!” says Drago.

They carefully make their way east towards the canals. They finally
see the besieged building up ahead. Before it is a copse of trees,
behind which five gnolls, four hyenas, and perhaps a dozen or more
lizardfolk have taken cover and are training their bows on the wooden
door of the squat building at the juncture of the north-south and
east-west canals running through the ruined city. Ulmar holds his hand
up to caution Drago and then points to a 5’ hole in the ground
concealed among the weeds.

Just then, the sound of a young woman’s receding scream can be heard echoing up through the hole, as though she had fallen into it, but at a point further down than they can see. Then they hear the echo of a man’s voice crying, ““Newt! Hold on! I will send help!” The sounds of steel clashing on steel can also be faintly heard. The lizardfolk and gnolls behind the trees do not seem to have heard any of these sounds issuing from the hole in the ground.

Drago whispers to Ulmar, “Can we safely climb down the hole? Can you communicate with Newt yet?”

Ulmar is clearly agitated and upset by this. “No! I have no rope with
me, do you?” He asks in Draconic. “I can’t sense her! She is too far
away or…” He looks at Drago in desperation. “The only way down there
is the stairwell in that building. We must get in!”

Drago shakes his head in negation as he looks toward the gnolls and lizards to see if he can steal any rope from them with his mage’s hand. When he doesn’t see any, he whispers, “Here goes nothing.” In his most intimidating voice, he points to the door and calls out to the gnolls and the lizardfolk in booming Common, “Break down that door! NOW!”

“Break down that door! Now!”

Cackling like fiends of the Abyss, the gnolls, hyenas and lizardfolk
all leave the cover of the trees and rush the door. Javelins are
hurled and several stick in the door even as Rogi slams it shut with a
yelp. The leading gnolls slam into the door with their shoulders, but
it is too late, the dwarves inside have already bolted it shut. It is
at the moment that Indranil’s invisibility fades and he stands exposed
beside the door to the horde of beast-men.

Howling in surprise and berserk rage, the gnolls and lizardfolk turn on
Indrail. Aatu rushes to Indranil’s side even as one of the hyenas
tries to bite the beleaguered ranger. There is no time for any more
casting of spells, Indranil is forced to draw his sword and defend
himself. With a powerful blow he cuts down the gnoll in front of him,
but a hyena rushes him and bites into his leg. He sees that another
hyena has crashed into Aatu and pulled him to the ground by the
throat.

Drago pauses, astonished at Indranil’s sudden appearance. Then he smiles, enjoying the sight of him being mauled. He wishes he could sit back with a nice cocktail and enjoy the show, but he knows he needs to help him. Indranil would be very helpful to get inside the cavern. Still… Drago takes another moment to fantasize about BBQ elf for dinner before he says to Ulmar, “We need to help him.” He unslings his gem encrusted shield and draws his new long sword.

As Drago and Ulmar consider what to do, Indranil shears through the neck of the hyena gripping Aatu in its jaws. Its head rolls away as Aatu leaps to his feet and tears into the other hyena menacing Indranil. With a yelp the hyena backs away and then runs, the other two hyenas also turn tail and follow after.

There is no time to rest however, for the lizardfolk have backed away to hurl their last javelins at Indranil. His shield wards off all but one that pierces him in the right leg. Then the gnolls charge in with their spears. Aatu runs between the legs of one and trips him while Indranil swats away the spear of another with his sword and then slashes the hapless gnoll in the belly. Aatu bites the gnoll he tripped again and again before he is able to stumble back to his feet, blood running down his mauled arms.

Then the lizardfolk move in with shields and their primitive spiked war clubs. Indranil and Aatu are hard pressed on all sides now as Indranil calls out to the dwarves to open the door so he and Aatu can slip in.

Suddenly, as things begin to look hopeless, a minotaur bearing a finely made sword and a shield decorated with silver and platinum tracery along with inlaid carnelians and a gnoll with a lizardfolk shield and spiked club smash into the back of the lizardfolk warrior ranks hewing and smiting them right and left. Then the door of the squat building opens and Grim takes a swipe at one of the gnolls with his axe, he misses but now the gnolls and lizardfolk must turn their attention to him as well.

It is not a moment too soon, for one of the lizardfolk manages to strike Aatu with his war club. Aatu yelps in pain but continues snapping at the gnolls and lizardfolk around him. Indranil finds himself forced to back up against the wall as he is beset right, left, and center by gnolls and lizardfolk. With a powerful blow he lops off the head of the gnoll he wounded in the belly, and with his shield wards off the war clubs of the lizardfolk.

The battle continues furiously as Indranil splits the head of another
gnoll, and then turns his attention to the lizardfolk surrounding him,
spilling the guts of one who raised his shield too high. Only one
gnoll remains while he and Grim trade one blow after another but neither gives way though both are bruised and bloodied. Aatu dogs the gnoll’s heels but his leather bracers and thick fur protect him from the wolf’s sharp teeth. The lizardfolk are so intent on Indranil now that
they leave Aatu alone. Indranil works furiously with shield and sword,
blocking and parrying the lizardfolk war clubs, still he is struck
painfully in the left leg and the stomach. Bloodied but undaunted he
fights on against the half dozen or so lizardfolk warriors outside the
door. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees that by the treeline the
minotaur and the gnoll are still fighting, the minotaur having taken
down one foe, and the gnoll having felled two others. Still there are
at least five more lizardfolk warriors encircling them.

In the blink of an eye the battle changes as a hail of the black
fletched arrows of the Deathwalkers fall upon the lizardfolk. Half
their numbers are reduced within seconds, and the rest break away from the fight to dive into the canal running off to the swamps to the
east. Grim finally gets a killing blow on the last gnoll as the
lizardfolk fall or run and he beckons Indranil to hurry in. Indranil
looks off to his right and sees that the Deathwalkers have arrived.
Four of the fighters in banded armor are marching up the street,
already putting another arrow to their bows. Indranil sees four
more Deathwalker fighters with their clerics behind them on the roof
of the building to the southeast. Judging from the barrage of arrows
that came from the west, Indranil guesses that the other warriors are
just around the corner.

“Indranil, wait! I am Ulmar and we must rescue Newt! She is in danger.
Let us in with you!” It is the gnoll who was fighting the lizardfolk
warriors shouting from the treeline. He is already running towards the
door dragging the minotaur along with him.

As they run toward Indranil, the minotaur dismisses his spell and becomes himself again. When they reach him, Drago bows briefly and says, “Sir Indranil, meet Newt’s father, Ulmar.” He smiles toothily.

“Indranil, wait! I am Ulmar and we must rescue Newt! She is in danger.
Let us in with you!” It is the gnoll who was fighting the lizardfolk
warriors shouting from the treeline. He is already running towards the
door dragging the minotaur along with him. As they run toward
Indranil, the minotaur performs a gesture of spell dismissal. His
features shift into those of Drago.

“By the goddess! Drago! It is good to see you! Hurry, get inside! We
can talk later.”

The three of them and Aatu all rush inside as arrows begin to fall
around them. Indranil is the last to enter. Before ducking through the
doorway he casts Entangle to hinder the approaching Deathwalkers. He runs through the door and slams it behind him latching the bar. The
thunking of many arrows hitting the door can be heard as well as the
dismay of the warriors who were rounding the building but have been
stopped in their tracks by the vines and weeds that twine themselves
around their legs and feet.

Safe for the moment, Drago bows briefly and says, “Sir Indranil, meet
Newt’s father, Ulmar.” He smiles toothily.

To the astonishment of Grim and the other dwarves, Ulmar shifts and
his features transform into those of a human male with dark eyes and
hair, someone who very well could be the father of Adelina. He holds
his hand out to shake Indranil’s hand, but then sees the look on the
dwarves faces, “Oh, they didn’t know did they?”

Drago chuckles at the dwarves’ response.

Indranil laughs lightly and nods his head towards the astonished dwarves, “No, they didn’t know until now. It is a secret we have closely guarded at your daughter’s request. The fewer who know of your… skill… the better.”

Indranil bows to Ulmar and says, “Good Sir, it is an honor to finally meet you, the father of my comrade Adelina. And, it is an especial relief that you are safe and free from the Deathwalkers. My colleagues have risked all to reenter this City to search for you and your wife. Finding you is such welcome news. I am greatly pleased and eager to hear your story… when we have time.”

Turning to Drago Indranil not only bows lowly and fully but drops to his knees and with his hands clasped to his chest he says, “Good Drago, Please forgive my sins of hatred and bigotry. I have ill served you, done you wrong and great injustice. I beg your forgiveness. In penance I offer you my friendship and pledge of respect and honor. I have strayed far from balance and paid for it with the loss of friendship and respect. The Goddesses have offered me atonement and as penance I must seek to restore balance.”

Indranil waits upon his knees for Drago’s response.

Drago is astonished. He tries to speak, repeatedly, but no sound comes out of his mouth. Finally, Drago simply offers his clawed paw and says, “Rise, Sir Knight, all is forgiven. However, there are forces gathering beyond your worst nightmare that are bent upon the destruction of humanity.” Motioning toward Ulmar, “Between the two of us, we now know most of the secrets of Thracia and Huvat Vex. But first, we need to save Newt. We heard her fall into the pit from the hole on the surface and Ulmar can’t read her. We’re very worried. Can we go to her now and talk later?”

Afternoon, Readying 20, 591

“My, but gnolls and minotaurs certainly are stirred up, aren’t they?” asks the major-domo Bitterbark as he steps into Drago’s cell several long tedious hours later. “Let us chat for a little bit. I am curious to hear your tale.”

Drago blinks, stretches, and asks, “How so, milord?”

“I am curious as to what could have led the Keolanders they say you traveled with back to Thracia. Did you find a map or did someone lead you back here? Was it one of your former comrades perhaps?”

Drago nods, then replies, “The Keolanders found an ancient manuscript in a Deathwalker shrine in the swamps. Their clerics were able to translate enough of it to lead us here.”

“Is that so? There wasn’t a young girl with you from Cypress Hill?”

Drago gasps softly. He pauses, cocks his head, looks Bitterbark in the eyes and says softly, “Are you both safe?”

Bitterbark’s eyes widen. He puts his paw to his snout to shush Drago. Then he whispers, “So you know. Thanks the gods, our little one is safe; but maybe not for long. The gnolls and the lizardfolk are hunting them down as we speak. We must both get out of here at once if we are to save your friends. Gather your gear and come with me. I am Ulmar, the father of Newt. Her mother Saeva is still being held by the Deathwalkers in their villa. We can talk later, for now we must get out and quietly.”

Drago silently smiles toothily as he quietly gathers his gear and follows Ulmar as instructed. Drago is giddy with happiness. He slobbers absentmindedly. Newt will be so happy!

Ulmoar leads Drago back out to the arena. Luckily for them, no one challenges them. The arena is as empty as it was before. Ulmar doesn’t lead Drago up into the stands, however, but straight across to the western perimeter. He touches a stone and a section of the wall slides aside revealing a secret passage running beneath the stands.

“This way,” says Ulmar. “We will be less likely to run into anyone, and I can also sense if anyone is near us. Also, hold onto my shoulder. It will be dark, but I know the way.”

He enters, Drago following, and entrance closes behind them. The passage is narrow but only 20’ long. At the end, Ulmar touches a stone and Drago can hear the sliding of stone.

“Right past this tunnel is a stairwell that lead back up to the palace. They are not used anymore for reasons that will soon be clear to you. Do not be alarmed. The ancient Thracians thrived on all manner of perversities, but the stone gropers are harmless unless you strike at them. Then we will both be in trouble. So be calm!”

With that warning, Ulmar leads Drago up the darkened stairwell. As soon as they start up, Drago feels cold stone hands reaching from the walls on either side. They are flexible, smooth, and oddly soft, like animated clay. They caress, pat, and grope Drago and Ulmar from all sides, sometimes pinching or smacking them, but never going so far as to cause any real injury.

“Be calm, just enjoy it if you can. Do not strike the hands whatever you do!” warns Ulmar again.

Finally, they reach the top of the stairwell. The hands recede back into the walls. Ulmar opens yet another secret door and pulls Drago into another darkened passage at a right angle to the stairs. This passage is 15’ wide and runs on for some 50’. It is lit by a pair of baleful, glowing, amber colored eyes set into the wall on the left. They eyes chill Drago’s soul as he looks upon them. Looking back at the secret door they just came through, Drago sees that it now appears to be just another part of the marble walls.

“Come, Drago, the eyes are unpleasant but harmless.” Ulmar suddenly changes himself from Bitterbark into a lizardfolk warrior. It is the same kind of transformation that Drago saw Newt perform. His flesh ripples and shifts in color, shape, and texture. He casts aside the robe he had been wearing as Bitterbark and in the shadows retrieves a shield, morningstar, and three javelins that he had earlier placed there. He leads Drago halfway down the hall and opens another secret door disguised as a marble panel.

As the door opens it lets in a blinding blaze of light. Drago can hear a sizzling sound and feels a heat far more intense than the heat of the chambers beneath the palace. Ulmar shouts, “Damn! The way is blocked!”

Drago instinctively raises his shield to protect himself and peers into the blazing heat. As his eyes adjust to the light, he sees that the secret door opens into a room that is a large dome 50’ in diameter and 40’ from floor to peak. On the other side of the dome is a 50’ long hall with a single door on the right, two on the left, and a single door at the end of the hall. If the secret door is on the north side of the dome, then to the left on the east side of the dome is a door. At the apex of the ceiling of the dome is a large crystal that casts a shaft of sunlight that pierces the darkness of the room. The shaft of light creates a 10’ diameter circle on the floor directly in front of the secret door. It is this beam of focused light that initially blinded Drago is emitting such intense heat. On the other side of the beam an Amedi clad in rags in chained to the center of the floor. He looks up at the two lizardfolk and sneers, defiance in his eyes.

Ulmar sighs and says in Draconic, “We must wait for the beam to cross towards the center of the room. Perhaps in five minutes we’ll have enough room to squeeze by it. Eventually it will reach the center and burn this human alive. It is one of many sadistic games these beast-men play. As the beam of light cook this unfortunate, his dying screams will let the gnolls cubs in the chambers beyond that door know that their dinner will soon be ready.”

The human begins cursing the two lizardfolk in Amedi. His eyes are filled with hate, and also a growing fear as the beam of light inches closer to him.

Drago ponders out loud, “Should we kill him to silence him, or try to set him free? What if we turned ourselves into Amedi to free him? Do you know the language? I don’t.”

“He’s already seen us, so it’s too late to change our appearance now though I do know Amedi. I assume you have a spell to alter your own appearance?”

Drago nods his assent and adds, “But it is only illusion and only lasts a little while.”

Ulmar nods. “We still have to figure out what to do about him. Just a moment.” Ulmar falls silent and gazes at the Deathwalker for a moment. “Yes, he is a Deathwalker, in fact he is one of priests of Thanatos. His name is Holoste. He knows me, or knows of me. When Saeva and I were brought back to their villa, their Patriarch Tavasmok forced me to become their spy among the ranks of the beast-men. Tavasmok kept my spouse Saeva imprisoned in the store room of the villa, trapped behind magical wards and guarded by his undead. He told me he would kill her if I did not infiltrate the beast-men and report back to them. I have primarily stayed with the Malarat for you lizardfolk are not the creatures of Chaos and Evil that the gnolls and minotaurs are, though I believe your Shaman G’ruk is indeed leading them down a very evil path. The Malarat know me as the warrior Kassmak. Anyway, the Deathwalkers know of me, so this one might cooperate if we free him. However, freeing him might alert King Stronghoen all the faster, and Holoste will try to betray us to the other Deathwalkers. It would be safer for us to leave him to die, but I am loath to allow even one such as him to be roasted alive and eaten by the gnolls. What are your thoughts?

Drago shrugs, “Well, I am not opposed to roasted Deathwalker, nor to slicing open his throat to silence his screams and ease his impending pain.” Drago’s stomach rumbles its agreement. “Thanatos priests are more dangerous than an average Deathwalker though. Even so, if you can use your relationship with them to ease our danger, that is fine with me. They probably should be alerted to Stronghoen’s gathering of Beast-men tribes bent upon their destruction after all. If we help him as their ally and spy, perhaps Saeva will not be harmed because of it. It sounds like they already know your true nature?”

“They do, unfortunately.” Then his eyes widen. “If the beast-men overwhelm the villa, they may kill Saeva as well. Yes, we must rescue Holoste and send him to the villa to warn them. Look, the beam has moved away from the door. We must act quickly!”

Drago and Ulmar are able to squeeze around the beam and into the chamber beyond. Ulmar says to Holoste in Amedi, “Holoste, olen Ulmar, vakooja lähetitte keskuudessa peto-miehiä. Tämä soturi minulle on ystävä. Sinun ei tarvitse huolehtia hänestä. Nyt aiomme vapaasti sinua niin kiltti ja lopeta meidän huutaen.”

Holoste calms and replies, “Ulmar? Jos olet vapaa minua hakemaan minut pois täältä tulen varmasti kiittää teitä patriarkan Tavasmok.”

Ulmar replies, “Kiitos, mutta teidän ihmisten pitää vaimoni panttivangeiksi ja pakotti minut vakoilemaan teitä vielä ystäväni ja olen sitä mieltä, että meidän ei anna sinun kuolla tällä tavalla. Myös sinun ihmiset ovat suuressa vaarassa. Sinun on varoitettava niistä. Mutta ensin meidän täytyy murtaa näitä ketjuja.”

Ulmar turns to Drago, “Help me, maybe together we can break these chains.”

“Hmm… maybe a big glob of acid on the chains will help us break it?” replies Drago.

“Give it a try then,” Ulmar responds.

Drago then hacks up a ball of acid and spits it onto the chain. It burns through one of the links and the Deathwalker is free.

“Quickly, there is no time to waste,” says Ulmar. They head out of the dome and down the hall, taking the door at the far end. It opens up into the temple hall of the palace. Before moving into the courtyard, Ulmar shifts into the form of a gnoll and grasps the end of the chain hanging from Holoste’s neck. “If you want to leave you will let me lead you as a slave.” Holoste nods his understanding but is clearly not happy about it. “Drago, if you can change into a gnoll do it now. The hydra will not bother two gnolls and a human slave, but its touchy about lizardfolk as you probably know.”

Drago responds softly, “Kašvestu selfn.” and makes it so. Drago is now a gnoll.

As Ulmar said, the hydra doesn’t threaten them, though its eyes can be seen watching them in its pool. Crossing the lawn the harpies hover over them but then resume their station on the palace walls. The lizardfolk and beast-men in the small temple with the well barely spare them a glance. They make their way through the grove, whereupon Drago hears the sound of gentle laughter, and furtive shapes seem to slip in and out of the trees. Every now and then he almost catches sight of something or someone out of the corner of his eyes, but when he turns to look there is nothing to see.

“They are dryads,” Ulmar explains in Draconian. “They will not bother us. Here we are.”

They arrive back at the ring of fruit trees and the circular slab of marble with the checkered square in the center. Ulmar leads them all to the square and within seconds they are back at the large temple to an unknown human goddess in the upper cavern.

Ulmar leads them out of the cavern and into the rat infested cavern. Again they go unchallenged by the guards. He takes them to the right towards the long stairs that lead back up to the surface. At this point, Drago’s illusion fades and he appears once more as himself. Ulmar retains his gnoll form and continues to lead Holoste by the chain linked to the collar around his throat.

Suddenly they hear someone shouting in Draconian. From the entrance to the tunnel that leads back to the Malarat encampment, Igusadon, Iguanosuth, and Kopusuth emerge.

“Drago!” shouts Igusadon. “We feared for you. We were just about to go to the surface to fight the humans, for they have been found and trapped within the caverns of the Deathwalkers. But that can wait. Shaman G’ruk must see you immediately. He was enraged when he found out you were accosted by King Stronghoen. You must come with us to see him.”

Igusadon then notices Ulmar and Holoste. “Who are these? What business do you have with the Malarat?”

Holoste wisely says nothing, but Ulmar looks to Drago and then to Igusadon. He seems like he is trying to figure out what to say.

“Igusadon!” Drago smiles disarmingly and says in Draconic, “Hello my friends! Oh, Stronghoen is a pussy cat. Please give my regards to Shaman G’ruk. No time to talk now, but I am alive and well! We’re off on a secret mission for His Majest. You will see me again though, if we all live to see another day. Death to the humans!”

Drago slaps the Deathwalker softly and says to Ulmar in Common without waiting for a response from the lizards, “Let’s go.”

“Wait!” cries Igusadon. “Your mission can wait! Shaman G’ruk will see you now!”

“Oh really?” says Ulmar in broken Common. “You forget who is king of Thracia. King Stronghoen has told me that it is urgent I bring Drago and this human slave to the surface to advise Hssdk, your war leader, in his fight against the humans. It is urgent they speak with him now. Your shaman can wait. Hssdk will send Drago back when the battle is won.”

Igusadon grips his morning-star and for a moment seems as though he is going to draw it, but then his hand falls away. With a snort he says with more than a hint of mockery, “Of course we are all beholden to the great King Stronghoen. I did not realize Drago was on such an important and sensitive mission for the king. I apologize. Drago, be sure to come back straight away to see Shaman G’ruk when you have helped win the battle.” He then curtly turns and beckons for Iguanosuth and Kopusuth to join him. They head off back to the lizardfolk encampment.

“Hurry now,” says Ulmar, “before there is more trouble. From the direction of the underground temple they hear a new commotion. It sounds like the excited chatter of gnolls. “I fear they have discovered that you two are missing. Run!”

They rush up the stairs and arrive breathless in the upper corridors. They easily pass the gnoll guard station, as the gnolls are not aware of any reason to hinder a lizardfolk, gnoll, and human slave. Just as they reach the entry hall, however, they do hear cries of alarm in the Gnoll tongue coming from the hall behind them. Apparently the gnolls from the palace reached the guard station. The three fugitives rush up the stairs back to the surface ruins, and again they pass the gnolls waiting in ambush in the trees. Those gnolls also let them by without a word. Only seconds after they round the corner of some nearby ruins they again hear the barking cries and excited chatter of the gnolls from the palace.

“We must find your friends soon,” says Ulmar in Draconic. They will be scouring the city for us now, and they already have many warriors out here.

Morning, Readying 20, 591 — in the Palace of Huvat Vex

Igusadon leads Drago back down the temple hall back to the solid gold double-doors that were to the left as they first entered from the courtyard. Entering, Drago finds himself in a grand yet threadbare throne room. The floor is carpeted with red wool, but traffic and time have worn the covering until the marble floor shows through. The walls are decorated in alternating panels of hunts, revels, human gods, the decadent lifestyle of the Thracians in the palace and various other ceremonies. Hung on the wall to their right as they enter is a large and broken stone tablet. The tablet has numerous gold runes on it written in a language unknown to Drago, but tantalizingly similar to Draconic.

At the southern end of the hall sits the king’s crudely carved black stone throne that seems terribly out of place compared to the other furnishings. The tapestries on the walls behind the throne are made of a very tough, bright fabric. They are also brittle with age and the ends are frayed. To the left and right of the throne are wrought iron braziers. Both emit a dim smokeless light. There are no other sources of light other than the natural light that filters in through the doors as Igusadon and Drago enter.

As soon as the double doors are opened, Igusadon and Drago are assailed by a cacophony of howling and wailing. The throne room if filled to overflowing with gnolls,, at least three dozen bitches and cubs, and perhaps two dozen or more gnoll warriors, many of whom are wrapped in bandages. They are all crying out in rage and anguish. Ranged around the room are half a dozen gnolls in leather armor, with shields and battleaxes who bark at the rest and shove them away from the area around the throne. Standing by the throne is a smaller gnoll, or perhaps not a gnoll. Though he barks and growls at the ragged tribe before him, he looks more like a Doberman with mangy fur and one ear flap missing. He is arrayed in leather armor, has a longsword at his side and around his neck is a ruby pendant carved like a bull. An immense minotaur, easily over 8’ tall and perhaps half a ton of muscle, sits on the throne in silence but with a look of growing impatience with the rowdy throng. He wears a regal but tattered ermine cape over his powerful shoulders. His skin is jet black with a few white spots. His horns are very long, for a minotaur, and waxy ebony. His nostrils are pinkish and flare as his ire increases.

Igusadon shouts in Drago’s ear, so as to be heard but only by Drago, “That is King Stronghoen, the lord of the City of Eternal Light. Next to him is his major-domo, Bitterbark, one of the dog-brothers. It is probably not the best time to introduce you, but perhaps we should stay here in the back and listen. It sounds like the humans and dwarves this gnoll tribe was sent to hunt in the ruins not only eluded them but tracked them back to their village, massacred their warriors and hyena companions in a sneak attack, murdered their priest while he was offering prayers to their demon-lord Yeenoghu and reading the entrails of one of their slaves, mercilessly ran the rest of the tribe off into the night, stole their food and slaves, and then burned their village down before leaving. These humans and dwarves would be the expedition sent by the Lion Throne that you used to be part of right?”

Drago nods in assent and then feigns for Igusadon’s ears alone, “How terrible for the gnolls!” Drago tries to hide his smile but fails.

Drago nods in assent and then feigns for Igusadon’s ears alone, “How terrible for the gnolls!” Drago tries to hide his smile but fails.

Suddenly, King Stronghoen leaps to his feet and bellows, “Silence!” in the Common tongue. The force of it causes all the gnolls to freeze in place. Some even drop their swords, spears, or whatever else they were holding, even among the guards. Igusadon and Drago feel the force of it too, though they are able to resist what Drago senses is not just the force of the beast king’s presence but sorcery.

The King begins haranguing the assembled gnolls in their own language, and they all begin cringing and edging away from him. Igusadon whispers to Drago a translation, “He says, ‘You despicable cowards! You weaklings! You were supposed to capture these interlopers and enslave them, or kill them if you couldn’t capture them! And yet you not only let them get away, but you allowed them to track you back to your village! Are you that stupid! Couldn’t you have tried to ambush them on the stairway up the cliff! You cretins! And now you come whining to me! Who’s in charge now! Who!”

Deafening silence from the gnolls.

“You! Over there. Come before me! Yes you!” King Stronghoen points to one of the stronger and unwounded gnolls slouching among those in the assembly. The gnolls whimpers and then gulps, but then straightens himself – a little – and makes his way to the front of the throng to stand before King Stronghoen.

“What is your name cur!” demands the minotaur king.

“Kaggur, Your Majest,” responds the gnoll leader.

“Kaggur, how did this happen?”

“My King, we found them in the abandoned house just like the lizardfolk told us. They were expecting us, but even still we drove them all inside with our archers. We swarmed into the building but they were too strong. They are not just a band of human adventurers my king, but elven lords with a dwarven army! There are elvish wizards among them too and at least one powerful human priest. We had to retreat before they killed us all!”

“And yet you sent no one to warn me of these elven lords and their dwarven army? They were so much larger than the small band we were told about? And you allowed them to follow you? And you didn’t ambush them on the face of the cliff? And you are such weaklings you can’t even defend your own village but you expect me to fight for you?”

“My King, I was not in command then! It was not my fault! It was Fekkur! Fekkur was in charge!”

“And where is Fekkur now?”

“He… uh… he is dead Your Majest. He died defending the village.”

“I see,” says King Stronghoen more quietly. “And so someone else must then be accountable for his failure. I think it will be…” King Stronghoen reaches out for the gnoll.

“N…no… My King!” barks the gnoll as he tries futilely to back away.

King Stronghoen grasps the gnoll’s head in both hands and wrenches it quickly. With a loud snap, the gnoll’s head is twisted front to back until it is facing the assembly with its tongue lolling out and its eyes wide in fear. The gnoll warriors, bitches, and cubs collectively flinch and gasp. King Stronghoen drops the dead gnoll onto the carpet with a sickening thud.

“Now that your gross incompetence has been answered for, who will step forward to take command of this wretched pack of mongrels?”

Drago gasps as well but tries to remain inconspicuous.

“Now that your gross incompetence has been answered for, who will step forward to take command of this wretched pack of mongrels?”

“You!” King Stronghoen actually shoves his way through the gnolls and grabs one of the unwounded warriors. “You’ll do! What’s your name runt?”

“H…h…h…hu…Hurrurr, You Majest.”

King Stronghoen sneers and mimics the gnoll’s stutter, “Well, Hur…Hur…Hur. Hurrur, I now appoint you the new chieftain of the Lickspittle Tribe. Do you accept your appointment?”

“Your Majest, please, I am unworthy of such a – grrk!”

King Stronghoen grabs Hurrurr by the neck with his left hand and with his right hand grasps Hurrur’s muzzle forces him to nod his acceptance. Then he slams the hapless gnoll to the floor. “Don’t be so humble. Thank you for taking up the post I have graciously appointed to you. You may now lick my hooves clean while I instruct you all on what will happen next.”

King Stronghoen looks around and begins to address the rest of the tribe as their new chieftain anxiously laps at his grimy hooves. “Your leaders have failed you! You were once a tribe of mighty warriors! Now you are nothing but the Lickspittle Tribe, come to beg scraps at my table since you have lost the feast that I had provided for you by pointing you in the direction of new slaves and booty. Will you remain as beggars or would you again earn the right to be called mighty hunters!”

King Stronghoen is greeted by some desultory barks of affirmation. He repeats himself even louder, “I said: Would you earn the right to once again be called mighty hunters!”

This time the gnoll warriors and their bitches roar back, “Yes!”

“Really? I don’t believe you. Do you really wish to earn the right to once again be mighty hunters and warriors in my eyes!”

“Yes! Yes! Yes!” howl the gnolls.

“Show me you mean it! Show me you are my warriors and not simply more slaves to clog up my palace! Are you my warriors!”

“Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes!” Now all of the gnolls, even the cubs, are howling, laughing, and leaping about.

“Have you had enough of the human pestilence?! Have you had enough of their defiance?! Have you had enough of them withholding the best lands, hording their gems and gold, their cattle and grain while you starve in the wilderness?! Have you had enough of their murderous rampages?! The humans have everything, but when they raid they don’t just take what they need, food or a few slaves. No! They take everything! They kill all they find! Even your bitches and cubs are not spared! They kill them or run them off to die in the wilderness! And they burn your villages whenever and wherever they find them! It is time to take what should be ours! It is time to burn their villages to the ground! It is time to enslave or murder all who resist! It is time we called all the clans, and all the tribes and do what should have been done millennia ago! Death to all humans! Death to all humans! Death to all humans!”

The assembled gnolls, including the palace guard, all begin chanting in unison with King Stronghoen. Even Igusadon joins in the chant, “Death to all humans! Death to all humans! Death to all humans!”

Drago smiles and softly parodies their chant, “Death to the mammals, death to the mammals,” as he reflects upon how well his plan is going to thin the gnoll pack. His human comrades are strong indeed, strong indeed.

Igusadon alone overhears Drago and gives him a sly look and a chuckle. He also starts chanting “Death to all mammals!” but Drago is worried that he does so a little too earnestly. Igusadon is very much a loyal follower of G’ruk.

King Stronghoen holds his hands up and signals for the throng to quiet down. He begins again, and again Igusadon whispers a translation, “You say they were dwarves and humans! Doubtless they were from Melkot then. We will get to them, but first let us clear the riffraff from our front gates. We will begin the cleansing with these Deathwalkers. Their usefulness is at an end. They have long since stopped paying their proper tribute, and I see no reason they should be allowed to stay here any longer – except as slaves.” The king kicks away the gnoll chieftain at his feet.

“Get up you! I will allow your bitches and cubs to camp on the front lawn. There is no room in the palace. Do not harm the trees! Only collect what fruit from them is allowed to you. Bitterbark here,” he indicates the major-domo, “will tell you how much you can collect and from what trees. For no reason are you to go down into the city. That is forbidden and any who do will be killed in the most entertaining manner I can think of! Is that understood?”

“Oh yes Your Majest,” says Chief Hurrur. “You are most gracious.”

King Stronghoen sneers at the cringing gnoll chieftain and then continues, “Now, as for you and your warriors, you will go rally the other gnoll tribes, and perhaps certain others who may wish to join our cause. Tell them that I shall march upon the weak human kingdoms that have been doing nothing but devour each other for the past few years. Tell them that the former lands of the Sea Princes are now ripe for the plucking and now is our time if they will take the opportunity. Tell them that if they rally under my banner they will enjoy the spoils of empire!” This last part is a shout, and Chief Hurrur leaps to his feet and leads the other gnolls in gleefully cheering King Stronghoen.

“Bitterbark, take them out of here and find a place for them to camp. Then see Grassus and make sure they receive whatever food they may need – but not too much. They haven’t done anything worth spoiling them for. Then take Chief Hurrur to the Office of the Guard and make plans and preparations for rallying the clans.”

“Yes my liege,” replies the major-domo.

Igusadon whispers, “It is time to go I think.” He motions Drago to follow him quietly out of the room through the hall to the right of the door through which they entered.

Just then, King Stronghoen shouts, “You two! You scaly slinkers! Get over here!”

Drago holds his head high but follows Igusadon obediently.

Igusadon stops and turns to face the king. “Your Majest, we did not wish to disturb you.”

Drago holds his head high but follows Igusadon obediently over to speak with King Stronghoen.

King Stronghoen looks appraisingly at the two lizardfolk. Close up, Drago realizes that King Stronghoen’s teeth are predator sharp. Whatever these minotaurs are, they are not merely half-human half-bulls, but something far more monstrous.

“You I recognize,” he says to Igusadon, “but who is this?”

Igusadon bows and says, “Your Majest, this is Drago. He is of the Malarat tribe and just joined us recently.”

“Really? Is he the one who ratted out his former friends after he joined you?”

“Uh…well…It’s more that…” stammers Igusadon.

“Shut up!” bellows King Stronghoen. “Let this… Drago… speak for himself! Well, you scaly slinker, are you the one who came with the humans and then left them to join your shaman?”

Drago straightens his spine yet more and without any submissiveness says, “Yes, Your Majest, I am. I was hoping your great warriors would kill them all. I am sorry they did not. All humans are vile wretched creatures, not fit to lick your spittle.”

“Haw, haw, haw! I like you, you little slinker!” He slaps Drago on the back and it is all Drago can do to keep standing. If it weren’t for his thick scales he knows that would have left a nasty bruise.

“Come Drago. Join me for dinner. It should be done soon.” He throws his left arm around Drago in a comradely way and steers him towards the hall leading off to the southeast side of the palace.

Igusadon says, “Oh thank you Your Majesty, but we would not dream of imposing…”

King Stronghoen snorts. “You were not invited. Go find your own food. They’re stewing puppy chow in the kitchens. Maybe there’s enough for you.” He nods towards the double-doors, as presumably the kitchen lies in that direction.

King Stronghoen then heads out, Drago grasped tightly but not quite painfully, in his arm. Igusadon, speechless, is left behind. As Drago looks back helplessly, dragged along by the minotaur king, he notices that some human slaves have come into the throne room at the direction of Bitterbark, the major-domo. They are Amedi slaves, perhaps they were once Deathwalkers. They unceremoniously pick up the corpse of the gnoll that King Stronghoen killed by its arms and legs and carry it back out through the double-doors. Perhaps to the kitchens?

Drago breathes an inward sigh of relief to still be alive. If there is anyone who knows tale of his ancestors in Huvat Vex, it is King Stronghoen. Drago hopes this new alliance of power will shed light upon his quest. Outwardly, Drago only says, “Thank you, Your Majest, I would be pleased to be your guest.”

King Stronghoen takes Drago into a hall running north to south. At the southern end of the hall is a massive window through which pours the light of the strange blue sun. Three exquisite caryatids, columns carved as sculptures, support the lintel above the massive window. The caryatids are 8 feet tall and carved out of white marble in the form of breathtakingly beautiful nude women. The caryatids stand 3 feet off the floor on pedestals. Aside from the at there are four golden doors in the hall, two on the eastern side and two on the western side. King Stronghoen turns left and opens the northwest door.

Inside is a well lit room that is the private chamber of the King of the Beast Men. It is about 30’ by 35’ with a hall leading off to the north. The ceiling high above has skylights that let in six beams of light into the chamber. The room is furnished with several marble and cushioned benches, a pile of luxurious pillows and silk sheets forming a bed, and several valuable statues. Each statue depicts a Thracian hero. There are three female minotaurs, or cows, here tending to the room and cooking for the king. Currently a human female carcass is on the spit. The largest of the three cows is mostly white with large black spots. She watches over two minotaur calves who are running around the room playing their favorite game of head-butting the wall.

King Stronghoen finally lets Drago. He says to the cows, “This is Drago, he will be joining us for dinner – as my guest. Drago, those two are my sons, Strongbach and Hetstrong. You two!” His bellow finally gets the attention of the two rampaging calves. “This is my guest. His name is Drago. You will treat him well.” The two calves nod and then go back to butting the wall and each other. King Stronghoen doesn’t bother to introduce the cowss and pays them no more notice. He seats himself on a bench and indicates that Drago should sit nearby. One of the cows, a curvy cream colored heifer, brings them mugs and pours them a dark red wine from a jug that she leaves for them on a side table.

King Stronghoen takes up his mug and waits for Drago to do the same. “To the death of the humans, the rule of the Beast Man!” he toasts.

Drago raises his cup and agrees, “To the death of the humans and the rule of the Beast Men!” After tasting the wine, Drago asks, “Your Majest, may I ask how long the noble Minotaurs have ruled Huvat Vex?”

King Stronghoen replies, “We have ruled for a thousand years, ever since we threw off the chains of our oppressors.” He waves to the Thracian statues around the room to indicate the human masters of the beast-men a millennia ago.

“Now, I have questions for you. Who are these people you came with? Why did they come here? Why did you come with them? And why did you leave them to join G’ruk?”

Drago nods at the Beast King’s response and questions, then sips his wine as he gathers his thoughts. “Your Majest, the humans and elves came here at the request of the Lion Throne to destroy the Deathwalkers who have been causing havoc in Westkeep and throughout the swamps. The dwarves came from Melkot, as you rightfully guessed, at the request of the humans. Kaggur greatly exaggerated their numbers, to save face no doubt. You did right to kill him. There are less than ten Keolanders and no more than 20 dwarves, perhaps less by now.”

Drago smiles, takes another sip of wine, and then finishes, “I came here for two reasons, Your Majest, the first is at the request of Chief Rahk of the Malarat, to kill the slinker G’ruk after I learn all I can from him and then take his place as the leader of the lizardfolk. Plus I came to find my great grandfather Kopep, a copper dragon who is said to have come from around here someplace. Have you heard of him?” Drago cocks his head and looks at the king inquisitively.

King Stronghoen pauses with his mug to his bovine lips. Then he roars with laughter, startling the cows and calves. He snorts and then drains his mug in one gulp, immediately after filling it to the brim from the jug. Chuckling more softly he says, “You are a bold one Drago! I like that! Lucky for you, or I would twist your head off right here and now.” This last part is delivered in a low ominous rumble. Then he laughs again. “But I could care less about who rules the lizardfolk, as long as whoever it is answers to me and is trustworthy. Now G’ruk, him I don’t trust; but why should I trust you if you manage this little coup?”

Drago chuckles as well. “My head is yours to twist off as you please, Your Majest, but you have good reason to not trust the slinker G’ruk. He wants to kill off everyone who is not reptilian and only bides his time before he tries to devour the gnolls. As for trust… if you help me kill G’ruk, both I and Chief Rahk of the Malarat would owe you a great debt of gratitude.” Drago takes another sip of wine.

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.”