Chapter 07

Roll Call:

Gherota, Human Fighter, Level 1. First and foremost a front-line swordswoman, and quite skilled. Irritated by Fisks’ violent, exploitative worldview.

Gurnlocke Fisk, Dwarf Warlock, Level 1. A bitter spell-slinger with powers touched by brimstone. An advocate for Machiavellian methods and strategies.

Mairrethid, Human Wizard, Level 1. Student of mechanical magic and military theory, a war mage. Both moderate rationalist and mediator.

Mez Gobbo, Goblin Rogue, Level 1. Lockpick and shadow-skulking cut-throat. Motivated by enlightened self-interest, a mercenary.

Schlobrock, Ork Cleric, Level 1. Nature-worshipping shaman and medicine woman, with a huge axe. Has trouble pronouncing the letters F, S, T and V.

First Ch 01: Poot's Angels
Previous Ch 06: Bug Hunt

 

The five had finally come to their destination. Poot was offering 500 gold if they could recover an idol from goblin thieves. The five were closing in, having penetrated the underground hideout Poot described and overcome the traps and guardians encountered so far. They had yet to come to any goblins, but they were sure they were on the right track.

Mez led them onward through a tunnel, sneaking with his eyes and ears open while the other four followed at a discrete distance. He heard rushing, crashing water and recognized a dull blue light ahead, prompting him to snuff his own torch and continue ahead.

The tunnel flared open, into a massive, domed cavern. Blue, dimly glowing fungus spread across the ceiling and walls, bathing the space in twilight. A waterfall at the nearer end of the cavern tumbled into a pool below, feeding a snaking river that disappeared at the opposite end.

Towers of stalagmites crowded the cavern floor, all encrusted with a species of mushroom distinct from the glowing variety above. Small creatures, most the size of rats and some as large as dogs, moved among and over the garden, but their form was obscured by shadows and undergrowth.

An ancient masonry bridge joined each side of the cavern. Its trestles cleared most of the cavern floor, far more than just the river itself, suggesting the flow of water had varied considerably over the years. Statues and reliefs on the bridge were mostly eroded away, but appeared to represent demons and slender humanoids.

Doors and windows were carved into the nearer cavern wall, and several glowed with a yellow light that was clearly distinct from the fungal blue. A path craned along, following the contour of the cavern, up towards these apparent settlements.

Mez retreated to the other four to catch up with him, pressing a finger to his lips to command their silence as they approached. He whispered, “We want to head that way,” gesturing towards towards the cave behind him, “but I’m worried about attracting the attention of whatever is moving down on the cavern floor.”

“Can we have a look?” Mairrethid asked.

“Extinguish your lights and come on,” Mez answered.

They complied and followed him to the mouth of the tunnel, staying low and against the walls.

“We’ll just have to move as quickly and quietly as possible, and hope those creatures are as dumb as they look,” Gherota answered.

Mairrethid stroked his chin thoughtfully. “I’ve read about the habits of ants, that in faraway lands they sometimes keep fungus gardens. I wonder if that could be what this is, here.”

“Those are too big for ants,” Fisk answered. “Unless they are some kind of giant variety.”

“A dheme rebealz idzelb,” Schlobrock added, “widh dhe cabe mandiz and now dheze andz.”

“Some kind of vermin lord, you think?” Fisk asked.

“Zuch dhingz exizd,” Schlobrock replied.

“Keep your eyes peeled for spellcasters,” Mairrethid agreed. “There has never been successful domestication of any bug that didn’t involve magic.”

“You ever notice how humans are the only ones who really use the word, ‘never’?” Fisk teased. “A young people with small minds.”

“At least our women don’t grow beards,” Gherota mumbled.

“Led’z mobe dhingz along,” Schlobrock chided.

“Yeah,” Mez agreed. “Rush for the door, at a brisk pace but not a run. Stay low again against the cave wall. I’ll go first, but stay close to me, Gherota. I’m not eager to get cut off from support again.”

Gherota nodded, strapping her shield to one arm and clearing her sword, though she left it sheathed.

The others prepared their weapons and spells, as well: Schlobrock hefted her oversized axe. Mez cocked and loaded a small crossbow. Mairrethid cracked his knuckles and acted like he was making a purposeful inspection of his staff. Fisk hefted his warhammer on one shoulder.

“I have yet to see you use that thing in a fight,” Mairrethid observed, referencing Fisk’s hammer.

“It’s better than a quarterstaff, if you get forced into close-combat,” Fisk answered, bored.

Mairrethid shrugged, “Of course, your magic is better still.”

“Dwarves cling to their hammers and axes like babies cling to their mommies,” Gherota chuckled.

Fisk made an obscene hand gesture in Gherota’s direction.

“Snuff your torches, so we don’t attract attention,” Mez ordered, “and let’s go.”

The five advanced into the cave, moving quickly and quietly. Their footfalls made some noise, and Gherota and Schlobrock’s armor made even more, but if any enemies did hear them, they didn’t make themselves known. The distant march of creatures toiling in the fungus garden seemed to go on without interruption. No goblin sentries were sighted.

They emerged out of the tunnel, following a path that veered along the side of the save and up towards the settlement. As the five got closer, they could better see the architecture of a subterranean fortress, cut out of living rock. The path led up along mostly-sheer cliffs to a heavy double-door, with a good twenty-foot drop from there to the nearest stable ground. The way up was watched over by arrow slits that glowed with faint, yellow light.

Mez led his allies to the door and motioned for them to pause a moment. He snuck on ahead of them, quietly, to the door. He found a smaller portal set in the middle of one of the larger doors, man-sized for casual entrance and exit. He used a can of oil from a belt pouch to grease the hinges and then, very slowly, pushed the door slightly ajar. It was unsecured by lock or bar, and cooperated with the goblin.

What he found inside was a great hall, one hundred feet long and fifty feet deep. A second set of arrow slits on the far wall described the space as a probable bailey--a place to meet visitors, assemble troops, and a second line of defense against invaders. A catwalk manned the arrowslits on the outer wall, and was exposed to the hall.

The entrance to the bailey hall was far at one end, in the south-east. The far, northern wall had a double-door at the far corner and a few arched passageways that appeared to support the arrow slits above. This double-door was ajar, with light coming from inside. Another heavy double-door was set in the western wall, while the eastern wall had a ten-foot wide archway leading to a sunken room that was out of view.

Incredibly, there were no guards or sentries of any kind in site. Mez double-checked the doorway he was using for traps, and then gestured for his comrades to join him.

He pushed the door the rest of the way open and entered the bailey hall.

The others followed, with Schlobrock bringing up the rear. She threw glances around nervously, after them, but it appeared they had come this far without being seen.

Mez led them first to the passage in the eastern wall, checking to see if anyone was out-of-site there. He found a large room with a low ceiling, similar in size to the bailey hall. The floor was covered in shallow water--possibly a cistern. No one was in sight.

Mez continued to lead his group along the eastern wall, and then back along the northern one. They used the first of two open archways there, and sure enough it did lead up a flight of stairs to the arrow slits on a catwalk above. Mez followed this route to continue moving west, since it was less exposed than the bailey hall itself.

Emerging from the far arched passageway, the five were very near to the other double-door, the one that was ajar. Mez gestured for the five to stay put while he snuck forward to take a peak.

What he found was a square, twenty-by-twenty foot room. There were tables and shelves within, scattered with coins and weapons.

In two chairs, a goblin and a hobgoblin relaxed. Both were dressed and equipped in a way that suggested that either they were ranking members of their clans or that their clans were very wealthy. The goblin wore a light chain shirt over a velvety black shirt, with matching pants; he was outfitted with a small, jewel-pommeled sword on his hip, multiple daggers scattered about his person, and a wolf-skin cape thrown over his shoulders. The hobgoblin was clearly a soldier, completely at ease in a heavy suit of scale mail and draped in a variety of furs; dull brass bracers set with completely ordinary-looking granite stones screamed “magic item” at Mez. The two were playing cards.

Mez almost missed the most important thing in the room, though--Poot's statue.

Mez withdrew to the other five and did his best to communicate the situation with his hands only--a single room, no exits, with two capable enemies inside. And the statue.

The others did their best to quietly assemble in the bailey hall outside of the door.

Mairrethid held out five fingers and slowly counted down.

Gherota was the first in, kicking the door and rushing toward the hobgoblin. She drew her sword and, in the same motion, cleaved the hobgoblin’s chest and face.

Mairrethid followed her attack with his force-blast, centered on the goblin. It smashed into him with a loud pop and the concussion further battered the hobgoblin.

Fisk was almost as quick, throwing his soul-sucking hex on the hobgoblin, more than enough to finish him off. Fisk grimaced in a combination of pain and pleasure of his victim’s life force flowed into him as a usable commodity.

Mez led, and Schlobrock followed as they advanced as a team on the goblin. Mez got behind the goblin and waited for the ork’s assist, which was readily delivered--a spell-charged hit from her axe that virtually magnetized the goblin for Mez’s subsequent strike.

The goblin wasn’t down yet, though, and he managed to clear his own short sword and stab at Schlobrock viciously, scoring a surgically accurate strike that should have been possible against a trained, guarded combatant like the ork. Mez raised an eyebrow and prepared to finish the goblin off.

Gherota beat him to it, decapitating the enemy with a single stroke.

“It is nice when no one misses.”

The five moved into the room.

“Someone, Schlobrock, man the door and keep an eye out. I’m going to look for magic items,” Mairrethid instructed.

Mez pressed for urgency, “Let’s make this fast and get out of here. I wouldn’t expect our luck coming in to hold on the return trip.”

“Zhid!” Schlobrock howled in alarm.

The other double-door swung open, and a dozen goblins and hobgoblins appeared, moving into the bailey hall. They quickly realized where the intruders were and moved to engage.

“Run for it?” Mez asked.

“Engage?” Gherota snarled.

Mairrethid was the first to act, grabbing the double-door and pulling it shut. He threw the bar, just as the goblins on the other side made contact, pounding on the door with anger.

“Great, Merry,” Fisk said, sarcastically, “Now we’re trapped in here.”

“Gherota, Schlob, man the door,” Mairrethid instructed. “Brace it, and make sure you’re ready if they get through. The door looks solid but who knows.”

Both of them complied without argument.

“Mez, start looking for a secret door or passage,” Mairrethid continued, “not just for us to get out, but to make sure they can’t get in.”

Mez complied, “Help me look, Fisk.”

The dwarf grumbled and complied.

“What are you doing?” Gherota challenged, from her place at the door. The goblins were cursing and pounding on the other side.

“Getting what we came for,” Mairrethid said, picking up Poot’s statue and inspecting it.

“Whad nexd?” Schlobrock asked.

“I’m open for suggestions,” Mairrethid answered.

“Remember, wizard,” Fisk snarled as he set about tapping and twisting at the stones along the wall, “we didn’t put you in charge or anything.”

“So don’t follow my suggestions,” Mairrethid replied. “I was just the first to act. I’ll do whatever you want to do here, if it makes sense to me.”

Fisk cursed under his breath, but let it drop.

“The door seems to be holding,” Mez suggested.

“Yeah,” Schlobrock agreed.

A voice, speaking Common, came from the other side of the door. “I don’t know who you are, in there, but why don’t you come out and talk to us?”

“You want me to reply?” Mairrethid asked Fisk.

“Clear the hall, and we’ll come right now,” Gherota yelled back.

“Fair enough,” the voice answered.

The five all stopped for a moment, surprised.

“You don’t think...?” Gherota started to ask, in a whisper.

Mez crossed to the door and dropped onto his belly. He managed to look under the door into the hall. He crawled back to his feet and shook his head.

“They’re not there anymore?” Mairrethid asked, whispering.

“No, they’re still there,” Mez whispered back. He went back to where he was searching for secret doors. “I counted eight eight pairs of feet, and I’m sure there are more.”

Schlobrock whispered a suggestion. “Led’z dake a momend do cadch our breadhz, prepare our bezd zpellz and addackz, and dhen bighd our way oud ob here.”

“I’m not coming up with any alternatives here,” Fisk said, agreeing. “Mez?”

“Me either.”

“Will the door hold that long?” Mairrethid asked.

“Maybe,” Gherota answered. “Especially if they keep waiting for their little trick to work.”

“Okay,” Mairrethid said. “Should we divide up these magic items?”

“Which are those?” Gherota asked.

“That sword is mine,” Mez said, referring to the goblin’s sword.

“How did you know it was magic?” Mairrethid asked.

“I watched him use it,” Mez answered. “I bet I can make it work, too.”

“Fine with me,” Mairrethid said.

“Hold on,” Fisk said. “You can borrow it until we get out of here, at which point, it goes back into the pile with whatever else we find, to divide up fairly.”

“Screw that,” Mez said. “What if its cursed? I take the risk, I get to keep it.”

“How about,” Mairrethid suggested, “it is your first pick on magic items when we divide them up later, but no one else can pick it?”

“Fine,” Mez said, picking up the sword and strapping it to his belt.

“What’z dhe odher magic idem?” Schlobrock asked.

“The gauntlets,” Mairrethid said. “I’m not sure, but I think they’re combat related.”

“I’ll take ‘em,” Fisk quickly offered.

“I mean, choppy stabby combat,” Mairrethid corrected. “Not magicky combat.”

“So?” Fisk said.

“Gibe dhem do Gheroda,” Schlobrock said. “Zhe hidz more obden dhan me.”

“I’ll take them,” Gherota said, agreeing. “To maximize the benefit we get from them.”

Gherota took the gauntlets and put them on. She drew her sword and swung it about a bit, skillfully avoiding contact with the others in the relatively close quarters of the room they were in. Then she attacked a piece of furniture, one of the goblins’ chairs, blasting it to splinters. “I’m hitting harder,” she announced. “It is subtle, but it will make a difference.”

“Good for you,” Fisk said, sulking.

“I’m coming up with nothing on the search for doors,” Mez said. “What do you guys think? Any plans for getting out of here?”

“Can we get any intelligence on what’s out there, what is deployed against us?” Mairrethid asked.

“I thought that was what wizards were good for,” Gherota snorted.

“Sorry,” Mairrethid answered. “I’ve got nothing for this situation.”

“You’re not going to see anything out there without opening the door,” Mez shrugged.

“I zaw a goblin zpellcasder, a halb-dozen hobgoblin warriorz, and zome goblin archerz,” Schlobrock said, recalling from memory.

“Expect some of the goblins to be especially good backstabbers,” Mez added. “Be careful if they start trying to sweep our flank, especially working with the hobgoblins.”

“I figure the archers will take up positions on that balcony above,” Fisk said. “My best spells won’t reach that far--might a good place for you to focus your attention, Merry.”

“I am going to start in dropping some explosions on the guys on the ground, before we get in too close,” Mairrethid answered. “Unless the archers are clustered together, you’re blasty spell is probably as good as mine for going after them.”

“I wish I hadn’t dumped my best spell on that stupid bug in the tunnel,” Fisk cursed.

“We work preddy well dogedher, Mez,” Schlobrock said.

“Yeah,” Mez agreed. “Let’s stay close to each other, see if we can’t get in more of those cool one-two punches.”

“Don’t come out of the room too quick,” Gherota said. “Chances are, your spells and Mez’s crossbow will be a better match to their ranged attacks. We’re a bit light on front-line fighters, and there were enough hobgoblins to mob up on us effectively. After we lift the bar on the door, I’ll do what I can to keep their hobgoblins out. Schlobrock can help. You guys just don’t hit us while you fire through the gaps and over our heads.”

“Good thinking,” Mairrethid replied.

“Yeah,” Fisk agreed, “not bad.”

“Alright, so let’s do this thing.”

Next: Chapter 08