JollyDoc's Savage Tide-Updated 10/8!
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Aracase
Explorer
Ika_Greybeard
First Post
Joachim said:
Kill-steal is Kinda Harsh. I was the first to hit it and the last so no Kill-steal.
JollyDoc
Explorer
THOSE THAT TIME FORGOT
Irgzid stood proudly before the odd pile of…stuff…stacked haphazardly on the ground before him.
“You see?” he asked. “I kept my word. My tribe’s treasure. Yours, and all I ask is that you spare my people, and allow me to be your guide on your journey.”
Mandi and the others looked dubiously at the detritus. It consisted of a shed troglodyte skin partially filled with shiny rocks, hunks of glass, bits of metal and chips of gold and silver, along with a plain, wooden coffer. The elf bent to pick up the latter. When she opened it, she found a cushioned velvet interior filled with over one-hundred vials of a pale, blue liquid. She looked up at Irgzid, quirking one eyebrow. The troglodyte showed a toothy grin in return. Mandi lifted one of the vials, unstoppered it and dabbed a bit of the liquid onto her finger, then placed it in her mouth.
“Sannish,” she said, sounding subtly impressed.
“What’s that?” Sepoto asked.
“A euphoric drug, illegal in most ‘law-abiding’ cities due to its highly addictive properties,” the mage answered. “What were your tribesmen doing with this?” she asked Irgzid.
“We used it to craft the poultices we wore to slow the vile rigidity,” he answered.
“Wouldn’t it have been more potent to use it to ease the obvious pain your priests were in?” Marius asked.
“That would have been seen as blasphemous,” Irgzid said sadly. “The priests viewed their pain as a gift from Laogzed.”
“Then they were already deluded enough,” Mandi smirked. “Our gain. This gives me ideas…a possible way to give that arrogant ass of a Meravanchi a bit of payback for his pot stirring.”
Daelric smiled at this, while Sepoto kept his expression carefully neutral. Tower Cleaver merely looked confused and Samson suspicious. Only Marius seemed either not to have heard her, or not to care.
“We accept your offer,” Mandi said to Irgzid as she closed the box and tucked it away, “but just know this: when you lead us to the inevitable trap that I’m sure you have planned, you had best pray to whatever pagan god you venerate that I die first, because if not, I assure you that the suffering of your kinsmen will pale in comparison to what I’ll do to you.”
Irgzid bowed low. “You wound me, lady. I am your humble servant.”
“That remains to be seen,” the mage said softly.
_______________________________________________________
The company descended the rickety lift to a large tunnel sixty feet below, and then set off deeper into the bowels of the island. Along the way, Mandi questioned Irgzid about his tribe’s role in the distribution of the shadow pearls.
“We are not the Lords of Dread,” the troglodyte replied to her interrogation. “They are who we obtain the pearls from in exchange for the slaves we offer.”
“What do they look like?” Mandi asked.
“Like nothing you’ve ever seen,” the trog answered. “They are only humanoid from the torso up. Their lower bodies are like eels, with tails consisting of three flukes, each ending in a cruel hook. Their hands are webbed, and their heads are like large-eyed fish with facial tentacles surrounding a pucker-like maw filled with sharp teeth.”
“You’re wrong,” Mandi replied. “We have seen them before. They are called kopru. We found one of them squatting in the wreckage of our ship. We dealt with him, just as we’ll deal with these ‘Lords of Dread.’”
Irgzid led them on, down the twisting, featureless tunnel. Time and miles passed, but the awareness of both was dim in the minds of the company as they concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other. Finally, the passage opened into a small cavern. Trickles of water emerged from a crack in its ceiling, splitting into numerous rivulets that rolled slowly down stalactites and dripped off into several deep, milky pools that dotted the floor. Irgzid brought them to an abrupt halt at the mouth of the cave.
“You must be careful here,” he warned. “The pools are not water, but a caustic acid. Avoid them at all costs. Even the air inside is poisonous. I advise holding your breath and hurry through. Do not tarry here.”
Sepoto took the lead, closely followed by Samson and Tower Cleaver, then Marius and Daelric. Irgzid brought up the rear, with the exception of Mandi. The wizardess stayed where she was, calmly observing her comrades’ progress. Something about the cave seemed wrong. More wrong than Irgzid’s warning. She waited to see what had triggered her wariness. She didn’t have to wait long. Sepoto made it to the far side of the cave, but he stopped short of exiting. His eyes grew wide and he took an involuntary step backwards, nearly running into Tower Cleaver. Daelric had been approaching the tunnel from an angle and could not see directly into the passage. When he saw Sepoto’s odd reaction, the priest crept cautiously to the corner and peered around. His own eyes went, if anything, even wider than the goliath’s. The entire passage was filled with a black, viscous, undulating mass, which was moving rapidly forward. Almost without thinking, Daelric released his breath and began praying, ignoring the burning fumes that he inhaled. Instantly, twin, intersecting walls of glimmering, razor-like blades appeared inside the tunnel. The sliced and ripped into the pudding-like hide of the ooze, but still it came on, undeterred.
Sepoto knew exactly what it was they were facing. He remembered his last encounter with another such ooze deep beneath the mountain pass on their trek across the isle from the Sea Wyvern. He had lost his armor, and almost his life. The goliath was not afraid, but he had learned a healthy respect for these creatures, and he meant to give this one a wide berth. Fading into the shadows, he reappeared on the far side of the cave, a good distance from the pudding. Marius, meanwhile, saw the ooze too, and he also remembered the viscous horror. Stepping behind Sepoto, the little gnome spoke an incantation and sent three sizzling rays of fire at it. The ooze’s skin puckered and hardened where the flame struck, but it was relentless. It passed the threshold of the tunnel mouth, expanding as it entered the cave. Tower Cleaver had no idea of the danger he was in. Suddenly, a large pseudopod extended from the pudding, and hammered into the minotaur. As it hit, the barbarian’s protective cloak instantly dissolved into tatters, closely followed by the stout, leather girdle he wore. Cleaver’s mouth dropped open in shock as the appendage wrapped around him and jerked him forward…straight into the slicing blades of Daelric’s spell.
Mandi cursed from the safety of the entry passage. Daelric’s and Marius’ spells had wounded the beast, but not enough. Tower Cleaver was going to be reduced to bone in a matter of seconds, and Sepoto was powerless. She had to act. Quickly stepping into the cave, she cast her own spell, targeting Cleaver, Marius and Samson, and instantly whisking them between dimensions to deposit them some thirty feet away from the ooze. No sooner had Marius landed in his new position than he hurled a ball of exploding flame at the oncoming pudding. The creature quivered, but still managed to free itself of Daelric’s biting blades and hurl itself across the room…straight at Tower Cleave again. The minotaur had barely caught his breath from the first assault when he found himself entwined in the amorphous horror’s coils again, its acidic secretions burning his flesh as its raw strength crushed the life out of him.
Samson had noticed something critical when the creature had surged across the room: it had purposely avoided the acid pools. Though its touch was caustic, it was not itself immune to acid. Acting quickly, the goblin rushed forward, drew his breath in as deep as he could, and then unleashed a massive, viscid spray from his jaws, completely drenching the ooze. In a matter of seconds, the beast dissolved into nothing, Tower Cleaver falling heavily to the floor from its grasp. Immediately, Daelric was at the minotaur’s side, administering his healing magic, though he could do nothing to restore the warrior’s ruined equipment. Mandi, meanwhile, gave Irgzid a withering look. The troglodyte shrugged, raising his hands.
“It wasn’t here the last time I came this way,” he said. “Not my fault.”
Mandi said nothing, but her eyes spoke volumes. Irgzid knew that any more such oversights, his fault or not, might well be his last.
____________________________________________________
Several miles beyond the cave where Tower Cleaver lost his clothing, and nearly his skin, Irgzid brought the group to a halt once more, this time at the entrance to a wide cavern which dropped away into a black gulf below their feet. A forest of stalactites hung from the ceiling, some dropping out of sight into the darkness. A ledge, its surface glistening with moisture and mold, wound down the inner wall of the cave, a descending path of dubious safety.
“There is danger here,” the trog said.
“And you had best be damn sure you tell us what it is this time. In detail.” Mandi said coldly.
“There is a creature which lurks below,” Irgzid continued hurriedly. “In your tongue, it is called a roper. When my people pass this way, we always make it an offering of one of our slaves. I do not know how it will react to you, but perhaps you may appease it in the same way.”
“Nice try, but that’s not happening,” Sepoto growled.
“Indeed not, unless it is you we sacrifice,” Mandi said to the simpering troglodyte. “But for the moment, I have a better idea.” The mage bowed her head and closed her eyes, concentrating and mouthing an incantation. A moment later her voice spoke directly into the minds of Marius, Sepoto, Samson and Daelric.
‘Now I can communicate with the rest of you over a distance,’ she said. ‘I have purposefully excluded the troglodyte because he cannot be trusted, and the simpleton because these matters would only serve to confuse him. I will go below alone, wearing Daelric’s ring so that the roper won’t detect me. Once I find the creature, I will pinpoint it for you, Marius, at which point you can rain Hell down upon it at your leisure.’
‘Beautiful in its simplicity,’ the warmage replied.
‘The rest of you be prepared to follow me down should things go awry.’
The elf mage transformed her body into that of an erinyes devil, beautiful yet deadly. Then, donning Daelric’s silver band, she vanished from view as she flapped her bat-like wings and plunged into the abyss. When she reached the floor, some four-hundred feet below, she found it to be a rubble-strewn field of petrified trees of all sizes. Chunks of shattered branches littered the area, but a number of the logs were still surprisingly lifelike. From what Mandi knew of ropers, they resembled stalagmites themselves, and thus were masters of disguise in environments such as the one in which she found herself. She could not make it out, even though it might be directly in front of here.
‘Marius,’ she spoke through the telepathic bond. ‘Can you hear me?’
‘Loud and clear,’ the gnome replied.
‘I want you to drop your largest fireball straight down. Detonate it at four-hundred feet. We’ll see if we can’t flush out our prey.’
Marius acknowledged, and an instant later the floor of the cavern was engulfed in flames. They washed harmlessly over Mandi’s diabolic form, but none of the rock formations so much as twitched.
‘Looks like I’m going to have to do this the hard way,’ she thought. She flapped her wings loudly, hoping the noise would attract the creature, simultaneously lifting herself several dozen feet into the air. When the roper still didn’t show itself, Mandi removed Daelric’s ring. The instant she became visible, one of the ‘logs’ near the cliff face sprang to life. A single red eye opened in its center, with a tooth-filled maw beneath it. Six ropey tentacles sprang from its body, reaching fully sixty feet into the air straight at the wizard. All six struck her simultaneously, sticking fast to her like glue and pulling her inexorably downward. At the same time, Mandi felt her body grow terribly weak. It was all she could do to keep herself aloft.
‘I’m in trouble!’ she shouted through the mental link. Simultaneously she hurled magic down at the abomination, willing it to turn into a toad. The dweomer simply washed over the roper, having no effect whatsoever. Mandi was nothing if not cool under pressure, but her current situation had pushed her past her comfort zone. Speaking a word of command, she willed the boots she wore to transport her out of the roper’s grasp, and safely out of its reach.
Back atop the cliff, Sepoto and Daelric were in motion, leaping out into the gulf, and then flying down into the darkness below, courtesy of the elixirs they’d quaffed prior to Mandi’s departure. Marius started down the cliff path, Samson following.
“Cleaver, follow me!” the goblin shouted at the bewildered minotaur. Cleaver had no idea what was happening. First Mandi had just vanished, then Marius had thrown fire into the chasm for no apparent reason, and now all of his friends were deserting him.
“I wouldn’t go if I were you,” Irgzid whispered. “Don’t you see? They’re keeping secrets from you. They don’t trust you. Wait here, with me. I’m sure the roper will succeed in slaying one of them, and then its appetite will be sated. We can pass safely by then. If it kills them all…” the trog shrugged, “then I’m sure you and I would make a formidable team here in the eternal dark.”
Tower Cleaver looked from the trog to the retreating form of Samson. He didn’t believe the lizard. His tribe mates would never leave him. They were his herd. Anger descended upon him, and if had more time, he thought he just might crush the lizard. But Samson had told him to come, and so he would. Quaffing his own potion of flight, he seized Irgzid around the throat, and dove off the cliff.
Sepoto passed Mandi on the way down, but as he neared the bottom, a snaky tendril shot up from the darkness, wrapping tightly around his leg. Mandi could see the roper from where she was, and gathering all her will, she cast again. This time, her spell completely immobilized the roper, and Sepoto dove for it. Before it could break free from the wizard’s power, he summoned the might of Savras into his chain and drove it straight thru the beast. Blood spewed from the exit wound, as well as several large gems, much to the goliath’s surprise. The roper sagged, and then toppled, much like the dead tree it resembled.
_________________________________________________________
Hours later, the tunnel abruptly widened into a large cavern, nearly two-hundred feet in diameter. A shimmering curtain of rippling blue light bisected it from left to right and floor to ceiling. The light resembled a translucent membrane that swirled and sparkled like the surface of a pond. The cave on the opposite side was visible through the sheen, and the tunnel proceeded around a corner at the far end. Shapes and figures seemed to ripple and writhe along the curtain, and now and then they passed by slowly enough to be identified as Maztican warriors in full battle regalia, their mouths open in silent screams. A low whispering filled the room, but the cave was otherwise silent.
“Do not fear,” Irgzid said reassuringly. “My people do not understand this phenomenon. We call it the Cerulean Curtain, but it has never harmed us. We have always passed freely through it. Watch.”
The troglodyte walked confidently towards the shimmering wall, and then passed through it slowly, as if he were moving through water. Once on the far side, he waved back, seemingly unscathed.
“I’ve never heard of magic like this before,” Mandi said. “Perhaps it is the remnant of some ancient warding that is now merely this light show. Come, and let us see.”
One by one, the company followed Irgzid, and as each of them passed through, the soft whispering rose sharply to an almost painful roar, as of a thousand people shouting as many different phrases, and then it abruptly fell quiet again as they emerged on the far side. Sepoto and Daelric, however, were able to pick out individual phrases from the cacophony. Sepoto distinctly heard the words, ‘Two faces watch the tide,’ while Daelric heard, ‘The Maw flows forth to bite.’ When they shared this with the others, Mandi looked pensive.
“Two faces,” Marius said, at length. “Like the demon god we saw in the temple we saved Urol from.”
“Demogorgon,” Mandi said quietly, “whose home on the Abyss is known as Gaping Maw…”
_________________________________________________________
It wasn’t long after they’d passed through the Cerulean Curtain that the company came to the first major branch in the tunnel they’d seen since they’d set out on their descent. There, Irgzid paused thoughtfully.
“The route to where my people meet the Lords of Dread lies south,” he explained, “but you might be interested in what lies west. When I was a child, I came with my tribesmen to barter at a village called Barbas. Its inhabitants are half and mixed bred creatures…mongrels. Since the Vile Rigidity came upon my people, the folk of Barbas have closed their borders, fearing pestilence. Still, their village may be the only hope of shelter and relative safety you will find in the depths…”
“If it has been so long since you’ve visited,” Mandi observed, “they may not even be there any longer. If they are, however, perhaps they will have further information about the Lords of Dread. What say the rest of you?”
The others agreed, and the thought of hot food and perhaps a bed to sleep in was appealing to all. At Mandi’s word, Irgzid turned west.
Soon, the tunnel they followed opened into a low ceiling cave that stretched away before them. The terrain before them was scree and gravel, as well as large boulders. Due to the density of these scattered monoliths, it was impossible to see more than thirty feet ahead. Between the stones, patches of color hinted at plant life, suggesting a subterranean pasture of epic proportions. The temperature in the vault was noticeably cooler than the outer tunnels. Irgzid started into the maze, but Mandi immediately grabbed his arm.
“Fool,” she said. “What kind of subterranean dweller are you? Do you not recognize the mold on the rocks.” She pointed out large patches of both yellow and brown growth on numerous boulders. Irgzid’s eyes widened in fear.
“Yellow mold,” Mandi explained to her companions, “poisonous to inhale, while the brown feeds off of heat. It is what makes the air in here so cool. It looks like there may be a clear path though. Follow me.”
The elf led them almost a quarter mile through the stone labyrinth, careful to avoid the deadly fungi. When they emerged on the far side, the ceiling rose to twenty feet and the vast plain of moldy gravel parted, giving way to a large hemisphere of bare stone dotted with short pillars. Ahead, makeshift walls of wood and stone surrounded a sprawling shantytown. No sooner had the company exited the maze, however, than they saw a half-dozen large creatures gathered before the walls. They looked like nine-foot tall bipedal insects with vulture-like heads and two powerful arms that ended in immense hooks. When the beasts saw the group approaching, they immediately began howling, and clashing their arms together. In a matter of moments, several humanoid figures appeared atop the wall.
“We come in peace!” Mandi shouted, first in Common and then Maztican. “We seek to parley with you!”
Silence greeted her for a moment, broken only by the cries of the hook horrors. Then a single, strong voice called back. “What is your business here, strangers?”
Before Mandi could answer, Daelric called out. “We seek the Lords of Dread!”
Instantly, an angry murmur surged through the crowd on the wall.
“Then you’ve come to the wrong place!” the original speaker shouted. “Leave now, and we will not molest you! If you come any further, we will be forced defend ourselves!”
“Idiot!” Mandi snarled at the priest, and then she hurriedly raised her voice placatingly. “You must excuse my naïve companion! What he meant is that we are hunting the Lords of Dread in order to destroy them! We seek information!”
Another pause from the wall, then, “That may be, but we don’t see many outsiders, and the ones we do don’t have our best interests at heart. We think it’s best you be on your way.”
“Savages,” Mandi mumbled. She bent her head in thought for a moment, then called one last time, “What offering could we make to convince you of our honorable intentions?”
A longer pause from the village followed this. “What do you offer?”
“As I thought,” Mandi said softly to her comrades. “Everyone has a price.” Aloud, she answered, “We have sixteen pairs of dweomered bracers! They will afford your warriors protection in battle!”
Irgzid looked askance at the wizard, since the bracers she spoke of had been taken from the dead bodies of his kinsmen. The villagers seemed more impressed. “Agreed!” came the call.
____________________________________________________________
The town of Barbas squatted in a dead-end cavern, the ceiling of which rarely rose above thirty feet, and in many places dipped down as low as ten feet, creating a claustrophobic ghetto. The town’s structures appeared makeshift at best and nearing collapse at worst, their walls built from rubble, moldy wood, caked mud, and bone. A tepid pond shimmered in the center of town, fed by a trickle of water from the western cave wall. A haze hung in the air, a mixture of smoke, spores, and stink lit by dozens of feebly burning torches mounted on stalactites or facades. The only areas not claimed by crumbling buildings were the crooked streets and several farms of faintly glowing fungi and pallid mushrooms the size of men. Though there were a few purebred lizardfolk and troglodytes among the populace, the vast majority of the people were humanoid in basic frame only, squat, pale and sporting a myriad of bizarre deformations.
The residents peered nervously at the newcomers, awed and anxious where they crouched behind partially closed hovel doors. As soon as the company had cleared the gates, a tall, albino male approached. He was far less deformed than the other folk, to the extent that he looked almost human. Still, his left cheek bore a swirling, puckered scar that pulled that side of his face into a permanent smirk, and shoulder-length hair did not quite hide the fact that he was completely missing his right ear. The crowd grew quiet as he began to speak.
“Greetings, travelers. My name is Vertram, and I am the headman here. I apologize for the…inconveniences…you have faced with our guardians, but the tunnels in this region become more dangerous with each year. Regardless, our city is open to you. Please put away your weapons and be welcome in Barbas.”
Mandi made her own introductions in turn, and the Legionnaires obligingly stowed their arms. Vertram then led the group through the narrow streets, pointing out various landmarks, and asking more questions as to the nature of their quest. Mandi explained Farshore’s recent problems with the Kraken Society and their possession of the shadow pearls provided by the Lords of Dread. Finally, Vertram brought them to the town hall, a two story tall structure significantly larger than the other buildings, though built of the same scraps and detritus. Inside, the headman directed his guests to several rooms where they might rest later if they liked, and then he took them to a large chamber, which he explained was usually reserved for town meetings. The group was seated around a large table, and food was provided in the form of mushrooms and tough, salty meat from a monstrous centipede.
Once the meal was finished, Vertram folded his hands on the table and leaned forward.
“I fear for the safety of my people,” he began without preamble. “For many generations, we have lived in relative peace with the troglodytes of the upper caverns. Yet recently, one tribe in particular has become more aggressive and warlike. I believe it is the tribe you encountered. The maze and hook horrors have done well enough to keep them from directly assaulting us, but for the past several years it’s been much more dangerous than anyone can remember to travel the outer caverns. I believe that change is coming to Barbas. I have heard whispers in the air warning of dire events…of something stirring in the deeps below. We have heard of monsters dwelling in the forbidden caverns deep below the earth. Perhaps they are these Lords that you speak of. In the whispers and in my dreams, I have seen images of men and women from the land of light who will come to Barbas to deliver us from these dark times. I can tell you very little of those you seek, except to relate to you the legends handed down to us through the generations.”
“Our ancestors once lived on the surface, as you do, and they waged war with a great city of demon fish deep below. Our people drew the war to a final end by casting down the tear of the god of rain and storms, where it burst in the depths and drove the waters of the flooded caverns away, and the spirits of the fallen ancients still guard this region.”
“The Cerulean Curtain,” Marius said.
Vertram nodded. “The presence of our ancestors holds the waters at bay, and as long as they persist, the demon fish cannot return. Yet I believe something else has filled the void left by the expulsion of the fish. I fear that whatever has moved into the ruins of their city may be seeking their vile secrets, and if they discover them, they may become an even greater threat to the world.”
“These demon fish,” Mandi asked, “can you describe them?”
Vertram leaned forward further, smiling cryptically. “I can do better than that. Would you like to see one?”
“You know where one is?” Mandi asked incredulously. “Alive?”
“I will leave that for you to decide,” Vertram answered, “and it will be a question that will have to wait until morning. For now, rest and enjoy the hospitality of my people.”
___________________________________________________________
The following morning, with the company rested and refreshed, Vertram led them through the city once more, this time accompanied by several of his warriors. As the group moved through the town, they noticed the residents were silently packing their few belongings, and noted many expressions of sadness and fear.
“What’s going on?” Sepoto asked. “Where are they going?”
Vertram smiled sadly. “My visions have warned me that the doom that comes to Barbas cannot be diverted. After I return from guiding you to the Cavern of the Sleeping God I intend to lead my people up to higher caves, or perhaps even to the surface. Barbas’ time has come and gone.”
Mandi was pensive for several minutes as they walked, but when they reached the gates she turned to the headman, a dangerous sparkle in her eye.
“I have an idea. I have told you of Farshore and its trials. We could use people such as yours…survivors who are resourceful and self-sufficient. I would encourage you to please consider leading your people south, along the shoreline to Tanaroa, and from there to Temute, where you will find Farshore.”
Vertram blinked, taken by surprise. “Us?” he asked after a moment. “You…want us to join your people? You have seen my folk. The surface dwellers would not find them…pleasing to look upon.”
Mandi laughed, and swept her arms to her comrades. “Look at us! And we’re heroes! Oh, I’m sure there will be some dissenters, but I believe the vast majority will welcome you with open arms. I will pen a personal letter of introduction to the Lady Mayor, Lavinia Vanderboren. I guarantee you that you will find succor in Farshore.”
Vertram blinked several more times, his red eyes damp and rheumy. “I will take your offer under close advisement,” he said when he had regained his composure.
The headman and his warriors led the company back through the maze, and from there down a narrow side passage they had missed when they had passed that way earlier. After approximately a half mile, they came to another large cavern. On the far side, the Cerulean Curtain extended all the way to the sixty-foot high ceiling. Across its surface, ghostly Maztican warriors shimmered and flickered. Just beyond it, the occasional bubble or flash of scales revealed the presence of thousands of gallons of water, their awesome weight held at bay by the shell of energy. On the floor in the center of the cave was a strange looking mound of stone shaped like an enormous, petrified fish.
“Behold!” Vertram said with a flourish. “The devil fish itself! Come, gaze upon it! Place your ear to its skin! Learn from it what you can!”
Mandi and the others approached cautiously.
“It’s an aboleth,” the wizard said as she gazed upon the behemoth. “They are a race of very intelligent beings, but also very evil. They are known to enslave others in order to build their hidden cities”
“It’s alive,” Daelric said, pressing his ear to the aboleth’s stony side. “I can hear its heart beat.”
“It’s the Curtain,” Marius said. “It’s holding back the water. Without the water, the aboleth dried up. It must be in some sort of suspended animation.”
“Then perhaps we can reach it,” Mandi said. “I can use the same magic that allowed us to mentally communicate.”
Tower Cleaver scowled at this.
“Perhaps it can tell us more about the kopru,” Mandi continued, ignoring the minotaur’s wounded look.
Placing her hands upon the petrified aboleth, Mandi cast her spell.
‘Great one,’ she called, ‘we come beseeching your wisdom. Can you hear me?’
In response, her mind was suddenly flooded with violent, savage images of madness. No coherent thought came to her.
“It is in torment,” she said aloud. “Perhaps its hibernating state has unbalanced it. Perhaps moving it back into the water will restore it.”
“What?” Samson barked. “Are you mad? You just said that these things were able to mentally enslave other creatures! What’s to prevent it from doing that to us if you awaken it?”
Mandi shrugged. “We’ll kill it if it tries. Cleaver, do you think you can push it through the Curtain?”
The minotaur looked appraisingly at the aboleth, and then nodded. He leaned down and grabbed the fish’s tail, then began dragging it towards the Cerulean Curtain. When he reached it, he got behind the beast and shoved it through the barrier. Several minutes ticked by, and in that period, the onlookers saw the stony shell of the aboleth begin to soften until it was the consistency of mud. Soon after, it formed a layer of thick, slimy mucous, and the great creature flicked its tail, rising majestically into the water beyond the curtain, awake once more.
‘Great one,’ Mandi repeated. ‘Do you understand me?’
‘Kill! Destroy! Enslave!’ The thoughts roared back at her with such savagery that the elf rocked back on her heels, grabbing her head in pain. Abruptly, a dazzling curtain of hypnotic, rainbow colored light appeared in the air before the company. Vertram and his guards stared raptly at it, their eyes going blank.
“Pretty,” Tower Cleaver said, dreamily.
“It’s no use,” Mandi said after she recovered herself. “Its mind is gone. It’s trying to attack us. I have no choice.”
She began casting, her incantation a sing-song of power. When her spell was complete, a flash of magic flickered between her and the aboleth, piercing the Cerulean Curtain. When the light vanished, the aboleth was gone. In its place was a small goldfish. Abruptly, there was a flash of motion in the water behind it as a large barracuda lunged out of the gloom, swallowing it whole.
Irgzid stood proudly before the odd pile of…stuff…stacked haphazardly on the ground before him.
“You see?” he asked. “I kept my word. My tribe’s treasure. Yours, and all I ask is that you spare my people, and allow me to be your guide on your journey.”
Mandi and the others looked dubiously at the detritus. It consisted of a shed troglodyte skin partially filled with shiny rocks, hunks of glass, bits of metal and chips of gold and silver, along with a plain, wooden coffer. The elf bent to pick up the latter. When she opened it, she found a cushioned velvet interior filled with over one-hundred vials of a pale, blue liquid. She looked up at Irgzid, quirking one eyebrow. The troglodyte showed a toothy grin in return. Mandi lifted one of the vials, unstoppered it and dabbed a bit of the liquid onto her finger, then placed it in her mouth.
“Sannish,” she said, sounding subtly impressed.
“What’s that?” Sepoto asked.
“A euphoric drug, illegal in most ‘law-abiding’ cities due to its highly addictive properties,” the mage answered. “What were your tribesmen doing with this?” she asked Irgzid.
“We used it to craft the poultices we wore to slow the vile rigidity,” he answered.
“Wouldn’t it have been more potent to use it to ease the obvious pain your priests were in?” Marius asked.
“That would have been seen as blasphemous,” Irgzid said sadly. “The priests viewed their pain as a gift from Laogzed.”
“Then they were already deluded enough,” Mandi smirked. “Our gain. This gives me ideas…a possible way to give that arrogant ass of a Meravanchi a bit of payback for his pot stirring.”
Daelric smiled at this, while Sepoto kept his expression carefully neutral. Tower Cleaver merely looked confused and Samson suspicious. Only Marius seemed either not to have heard her, or not to care.
“We accept your offer,” Mandi said to Irgzid as she closed the box and tucked it away, “but just know this: when you lead us to the inevitable trap that I’m sure you have planned, you had best pray to whatever pagan god you venerate that I die first, because if not, I assure you that the suffering of your kinsmen will pale in comparison to what I’ll do to you.”
Irgzid bowed low. “You wound me, lady. I am your humble servant.”
“That remains to be seen,” the mage said softly.
_______________________________________________________
The company descended the rickety lift to a large tunnel sixty feet below, and then set off deeper into the bowels of the island. Along the way, Mandi questioned Irgzid about his tribe’s role in the distribution of the shadow pearls.
“We are not the Lords of Dread,” the troglodyte replied to her interrogation. “They are who we obtain the pearls from in exchange for the slaves we offer.”
“What do they look like?” Mandi asked.
“Like nothing you’ve ever seen,” the trog answered. “They are only humanoid from the torso up. Their lower bodies are like eels, with tails consisting of three flukes, each ending in a cruel hook. Their hands are webbed, and their heads are like large-eyed fish with facial tentacles surrounding a pucker-like maw filled with sharp teeth.”
“You’re wrong,” Mandi replied. “We have seen them before. They are called kopru. We found one of them squatting in the wreckage of our ship. We dealt with him, just as we’ll deal with these ‘Lords of Dread.’”
Irgzid led them on, down the twisting, featureless tunnel. Time and miles passed, but the awareness of both was dim in the minds of the company as they concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other. Finally, the passage opened into a small cavern. Trickles of water emerged from a crack in its ceiling, splitting into numerous rivulets that rolled slowly down stalactites and dripped off into several deep, milky pools that dotted the floor. Irgzid brought them to an abrupt halt at the mouth of the cave.
“You must be careful here,” he warned. “The pools are not water, but a caustic acid. Avoid them at all costs. Even the air inside is poisonous. I advise holding your breath and hurry through. Do not tarry here.”
Sepoto took the lead, closely followed by Samson and Tower Cleaver, then Marius and Daelric. Irgzid brought up the rear, with the exception of Mandi. The wizardess stayed where she was, calmly observing her comrades’ progress. Something about the cave seemed wrong. More wrong than Irgzid’s warning. She waited to see what had triggered her wariness. She didn’t have to wait long. Sepoto made it to the far side of the cave, but he stopped short of exiting. His eyes grew wide and he took an involuntary step backwards, nearly running into Tower Cleaver. Daelric had been approaching the tunnel from an angle and could not see directly into the passage. When he saw Sepoto’s odd reaction, the priest crept cautiously to the corner and peered around. His own eyes went, if anything, even wider than the goliath’s. The entire passage was filled with a black, viscous, undulating mass, which was moving rapidly forward. Almost without thinking, Daelric released his breath and began praying, ignoring the burning fumes that he inhaled. Instantly, twin, intersecting walls of glimmering, razor-like blades appeared inside the tunnel. The sliced and ripped into the pudding-like hide of the ooze, but still it came on, undeterred.
Sepoto knew exactly what it was they were facing. He remembered his last encounter with another such ooze deep beneath the mountain pass on their trek across the isle from the Sea Wyvern. He had lost his armor, and almost his life. The goliath was not afraid, but he had learned a healthy respect for these creatures, and he meant to give this one a wide berth. Fading into the shadows, he reappeared on the far side of the cave, a good distance from the pudding. Marius, meanwhile, saw the ooze too, and he also remembered the viscous horror. Stepping behind Sepoto, the little gnome spoke an incantation and sent three sizzling rays of fire at it. The ooze’s skin puckered and hardened where the flame struck, but it was relentless. It passed the threshold of the tunnel mouth, expanding as it entered the cave. Tower Cleaver had no idea of the danger he was in. Suddenly, a large pseudopod extended from the pudding, and hammered into the minotaur. As it hit, the barbarian’s protective cloak instantly dissolved into tatters, closely followed by the stout, leather girdle he wore. Cleaver’s mouth dropped open in shock as the appendage wrapped around him and jerked him forward…straight into the slicing blades of Daelric’s spell.
Mandi cursed from the safety of the entry passage. Daelric’s and Marius’ spells had wounded the beast, but not enough. Tower Cleaver was going to be reduced to bone in a matter of seconds, and Sepoto was powerless. She had to act. Quickly stepping into the cave, she cast her own spell, targeting Cleaver, Marius and Samson, and instantly whisking them between dimensions to deposit them some thirty feet away from the ooze. No sooner had Marius landed in his new position than he hurled a ball of exploding flame at the oncoming pudding. The creature quivered, but still managed to free itself of Daelric’s biting blades and hurl itself across the room…straight at Tower Cleave again. The minotaur had barely caught his breath from the first assault when he found himself entwined in the amorphous horror’s coils again, its acidic secretions burning his flesh as its raw strength crushed the life out of him.
Samson had noticed something critical when the creature had surged across the room: it had purposely avoided the acid pools. Though its touch was caustic, it was not itself immune to acid. Acting quickly, the goblin rushed forward, drew his breath in as deep as he could, and then unleashed a massive, viscid spray from his jaws, completely drenching the ooze. In a matter of seconds, the beast dissolved into nothing, Tower Cleaver falling heavily to the floor from its grasp. Immediately, Daelric was at the minotaur’s side, administering his healing magic, though he could do nothing to restore the warrior’s ruined equipment. Mandi, meanwhile, gave Irgzid a withering look. The troglodyte shrugged, raising his hands.
“It wasn’t here the last time I came this way,” he said. “Not my fault.”
Mandi said nothing, but her eyes spoke volumes. Irgzid knew that any more such oversights, his fault or not, might well be his last.
____________________________________________________
Several miles beyond the cave where Tower Cleaver lost his clothing, and nearly his skin, Irgzid brought the group to a halt once more, this time at the entrance to a wide cavern which dropped away into a black gulf below their feet. A forest of stalactites hung from the ceiling, some dropping out of sight into the darkness. A ledge, its surface glistening with moisture and mold, wound down the inner wall of the cave, a descending path of dubious safety.
“There is danger here,” the trog said.
“And you had best be damn sure you tell us what it is this time. In detail.” Mandi said coldly.
“There is a creature which lurks below,” Irgzid continued hurriedly. “In your tongue, it is called a roper. When my people pass this way, we always make it an offering of one of our slaves. I do not know how it will react to you, but perhaps you may appease it in the same way.”
“Nice try, but that’s not happening,” Sepoto growled.
“Indeed not, unless it is you we sacrifice,” Mandi said to the simpering troglodyte. “But for the moment, I have a better idea.” The mage bowed her head and closed her eyes, concentrating and mouthing an incantation. A moment later her voice spoke directly into the minds of Marius, Sepoto, Samson and Daelric.
‘Now I can communicate with the rest of you over a distance,’ she said. ‘I have purposefully excluded the troglodyte because he cannot be trusted, and the simpleton because these matters would only serve to confuse him. I will go below alone, wearing Daelric’s ring so that the roper won’t detect me. Once I find the creature, I will pinpoint it for you, Marius, at which point you can rain Hell down upon it at your leisure.’
‘Beautiful in its simplicity,’ the warmage replied.
‘The rest of you be prepared to follow me down should things go awry.’
The elf mage transformed her body into that of an erinyes devil, beautiful yet deadly. Then, donning Daelric’s silver band, she vanished from view as she flapped her bat-like wings and plunged into the abyss. When she reached the floor, some four-hundred feet below, she found it to be a rubble-strewn field of petrified trees of all sizes. Chunks of shattered branches littered the area, but a number of the logs were still surprisingly lifelike. From what Mandi knew of ropers, they resembled stalagmites themselves, and thus were masters of disguise in environments such as the one in which she found herself. She could not make it out, even though it might be directly in front of here.
‘Marius,’ she spoke through the telepathic bond. ‘Can you hear me?’
‘Loud and clear,’ the gnome replied.
‘I want you to drop your largest fireball straight down. Detonate it at four-hundred feet. We’ll see if we can’t flush out our prey.’
Marius acknowledged, and an instant later the floor of the cavern was engulfed in flames. They washed harmlessly over Mandi’s diabolic form, but none of the rock formations so much as twitched.
‘Looks like I’m going to have to do this the hard way,’ she thought. She flapped her wings loudly, hoping the noise would attract the creature, simultaneously lifting herself several dozen feet into the air. When the roper still didn’t show itself, Mandi removed Daelric’s ring. The instant she became visible, one of the ‘logs’ near the cliff face sprang to life. A single red eye opened in its center, with a tooth-filled maw beneath it. Six ropey tentacles sprang from its body, reaching fully sixty feet into the air straight at the wizard. All six struck her simultaneously, sticking fast to her like glue and pulling her inexorably downward. At the same time, Mandi felt her body grow terribly weak. It was all she could do to keep herself aloft.
‘I’m in trouble!’ she shouted through the mental link. Simultaneously she hurled magic down at the abomination, willing it to turn into a toad. The dweomer simply washed over the roper, having no effect whatsoever. Mandi was nothing if not cool under pressure, but her current situation had pushed her past her comfort zone. Speaking a word of command, she willed the boots she wore to transport her out of the roper’s grasp, and safely out of its reach.
Back atop the cliff, Sepoto and Daelric were in motion, leaping out into the gulf, and then flying down into the darkness below, courtesy of the elixirs they’d quaffed prior to Mandi’s departure. Marius started down the cliff path, Samson following.
“Cleaver, follow me!” the goblin shouted at the bewildered minotaur. Cleaver had no idea what was happening. First Mandi had just vanished, then Marius had thrown fire into the chasm for no apparent reason, and now all of his friends were deserting him.
“I wouldn’t go if I were you,” Irgzid whispered. “Don’t you see? They’re keeping secrets from you. They don’t trust you. Wait here, with me. I’m sure the roper will succeed in slaying one of them, and then its appetite will be sated. We can pass safely by then. If it kills them all…” the trog shrugged, “then I’m sure you and I would make a formidable team here in the eternal dark.”
Tower Cleaver looked from the trog to the retreating form of Samson. He didn’t believe the lizard. His tribe mates would never leave him. They were his herd. Anger descended upon him, and if had more time, he thought he just might crush the lizard. But Samson had told him to come, and so he would. Quaffing his own potion of flight, he seized Irgzid around the throat, and dove off the cliff.
Sepoto passed Mandi on the way down, but as he neared the bottom, a snaky tendril shot up from the darkness, wrapping tightly around his leg. Mandi could see the roper from where she was, and gathering all her will, she cast again. This time, her spell completely immobilized the roper, and Sepoto dove for it. Before it could break free from the wizard’s power, he summoned the might of Savras into his chain and drove it straight thru the beast. Blood spewed from the exit wound, as well as several large gems, much to the goliath’s surprise. The roper sagged, and then toppled, much like the dead tree it resembled.
_________________________________________________________
Hours later, the tunnel abruptly widened into a large cavern, nearly two-hundred feet in diameter. A shimmering curtain of rippling blue light bisected it from left to right and floor to ceiling. The light resembled a translucent membrane that swirled and sparkled like the surface of a pond. The cave on the opposite side was visible through the sheen, and the tunnel proceeded around a corner at the far end. Shapes and figures seemed to ripple and writhe along the curtain, and now and then they passed by slowly enough to be identified as Maztican warriors in full battle regalia, their mouths open in silent screams. A low whispering filled the room, but the cave was otherwise silent.
“Do not fear,” Irgzid said reassuringly. “My people do not understand this phenomenon. We call it the Cerulean Curtain, but it has never harmed us. We have always passed freely through it. Watch.”
The troglodyte walked confidently towards the shimmering wall, and then passed through it slowly, as if he were moving through water. Once on the far side, he waved back, seemingly unscathed.
“I’ve never heard of magic like this before,” Mandi said. “Perhaps it is the remnant of some ancient warding that is now merely this light show. Come, and let us see.”
One by one, the company followed Irgzid, and as each of them passed through, the soft whispering rose sharply to an almost painful roar, as of a thousand people shouting as many different phrases, and then it abruptly fell quiet again as they emerged on the far side. Sepoto and Daelric, however, were able to pick out individual phrases from the cacophony. Sepoto distinctly heard the words, ‘Two faces watch the tide,’ while Daelric heard, ‘The Maw flows forth to bite.’ When they shared this with the others, Mandi looked pensive.
“Two faces,” Marius said, at length. “Like the demon god we saw in the temple we saved Urol from.”
“Demogorgon,” Mandi said quietly, “whose home on the Abyss is known as Gaping Maw…”
_________________________________________________________
It wasn’t long after they’d passed through the Cerulean Curtain that the company came to the first major branch in the tunnel they’d seen since they’d set out on their descent. There, Irgzid paused thoughtfully.
“The route to where my people meet the Lords of Dread lies south,” he explained, “but you might be interested in what lies west. When I was a child, I came with my tribesmen to barter at a village called Barbas. Its inhabitants are half and mixed bred creatures…mongrels. Since the Vile Rigidity came upon my people, the folk of Barbas have closed their borders, fearing pestilence. Still, their village may be the only hope of shelter and relative safety you will find in the depths…”
“If it has been so long since you’ve visited,” Mandi observed, “they may not even be there any longer. If they are, however, perhaps they will have further information about the Lords of Dread. What say the rest of you?”
The others agreed, and the thought of hot food and perhaps a bed to sleep in was appealing to all. At Mandi’s word, Irgzid turned west.
Soon, the tunnel they followed opened into a low ceiling cave that stretched away before them. The terrain before them was scree and gravel, as well as large boulders. Due to the density of these scattered monoliths, it was impossible to see more than thirty feet ahead. Between the stones, patches of color hinted at plant life, suggesting a subterranean pasture of epic proportions. The temperature in the vault was noticeably cooler than the outer tunnels. Irgzid started into the maze, but Mandi immediately grabbed his arm.
“Fool,” she said. “What kind of subterranean dweller are you? Do you not recognize the mold on the rocks.” She pointed out large patches of both yellow and brown growth on numerous boulders. Irgzid’s eyes widened in fear.
“Yellow mold,” Mandi explained to her companions, “poisonous to inhale, while the brown feeds off of heat. It is what makes the air in here so cool. It looks like there may be a clear path though. Follow me.”
The elf led them almost a quarter mile through the stone labyrinth, careful to avoid the deadly fungi. When they emerged on the far side, the ceiling rose to twenty feet and the vast plain of moldy gravel parted, giving way to a large hemisphere of bare stone dotted with short pillars. Ahead, makeshift walls of wood and stone surrounded a sprawling shantytown. No sooner had the company exited the maze, however, than they saw a half-dozen large creatures gathered before the walls. They looked like nine-foot tall bipedal insects with vulture-like heads and two powerful arms that ended in immense hooks. When the beasts saw the group approaching, they immediately began howling, and clashing their arms together. In a matter of moments, several humanoid figures appeared atop the wall.
“We come in peace!” Mandi shouted, first in Common and then Maztican. “We seek to parley with you!”
Silence greeted her for a moment, broken only by the cries of the hook horrors. Then a single, strong voice called back. “What is your business here, strangers?”
Before Mandi could answer, Daelric called out. “We seek the Lords of Dread!”
Instantly, an angry murmur surged through the crowd on the wall.
“Then you’ve come to the wrong place!” the original speaker shouted. “Leave now, and we will not molest you! If you come any further, we will be forced defend ourselves!”
“Idiot!” Mandi snarled at the priest, and then she hurriedly raised her voice placatingly. “You must excuse my naïve companion! What he meant is that we are hunting the Lords of Dread in order to destroy them! We seek information!”
Another pause from the wall, then, “That may be, but we don’t see many outsiders, and the ones we do don’t have our best interests at heart. We think it’s best you be on your way.”
“Savages,” Mandi mumbled. She bent her head in thought for a moment, then called one last time, “What offering could we make to convince you of our honorable intentions?”
A longer pause from the village followed this. “What do you offer?”
“As I thought,” Mandi said softly to her comrades. “Everyone has a price.” Aloud, she answered, “We have sixteen pairs of dweomered bracers! They will afford your warriors protection in battle!”
Irgzid looked askance at the wizard, since the bracers she spoke of had been taken from the dead bodies of his kinsmen. The villagers seemed more impressed. “Agreed!” came the call.
____________________________________________________________
The town of Barbas squatted in a dead-end cavern, the ceiling of which rarely rose above thirty feet, and in many places dipped down as low as ten feet, creating a claustrophobic ghetto. The town’s structures appeared makeshift at best and nearing collapse at worst, their walls built from rubble, moldy wood, caked mud, and bone. A tepid pond shimmered in the center of town, fed by a trickle of water from the western cave wall. A haze hung in the air, a mixture of smoke, spores, and stink lit by dozens of feebly burning torches mounted on stalactites or facades. The only areas not claimed by crumbling buildings were the crooked streets and several farms of faintly glowing fungi and pallid mushrooms the size of men. Though there were a few purebred lizardfolk and troglodytes among the populace, the vast majority of the people were humanoid in basic frame only, squat, pale and sporting a myriad of bizarre deformations.
The residents peered nervously at the newcomers, awed and anxious where they crouched behind partially closed hovel doors. As soon as the company had cleared the gates, a tall, albino male approached. He was far less deformed than the other folk, to the extent that he looked almost human. Still, his left cheek bore a swirling, puckered scar that pulled that side of his face into a permanent smirk, and shoulder-length hair did not quite hide the fact that he was completely missing his right ear. The crowd grew quiet as he began to speak.
“Greetings, travelers. My name is Vertram, and I am the headman here. I apologize for the…inconveniences…you have faced with our guardians, but the tunnels in this region become more dangerous with each year. Regardless, our city is open to you. Please put away your weapons and be welcome in Barbas.”
Mandi made her own introductions in turn, and the Legionnaires obligingly stowed their arms. Vertram then led the group through the narrow streets, pointing out various landmarks, and asking more questions as to the nature of their quest. Mandi explained Farshore’s recent problems with the Kraken Society and their possession of the shadow pearls provided by the Lords of Dread. Finally, Vertram brought them to the town hall, a two story tall structure significantly larger than the other buildings, though built of the same scraps and detritus. Inside, the headman directed his guests to several rooms where they might rest later if they liked, and then he took them to a large chamber, which he explained was usually reserved for town meetings. The group was seated around a large table, and food was provided in the form of mushrooms and tough, salty meat from a monstrous centipede.
Once the meal was finished, Vertram folded his hands on the table and leaned forward.
“I fear for the safety of my people,” he began without preamble. “For many generations, we have lived in relative peace with the troglodytes of the upper caverns. Yet recently, one tribe in particular has become more aggressive and warlike. I believe it is the tribe you encountered. The maze and hook horrors have done well enough to keep them from directly assaulting us, but for the past several years it’s been much more dangerous than anyone can remember to travel the outer caverns. I believe that change is coming to Barbas. I have heard whispers in the air warning of dire events…of something stirring in the deeps below. We have heard of monsters dwelling in the forbidden caverns deep below the earth. Perhaps they are these Lords that you speak of. In the whispers and in my dreams, I have seen images of men and women from the land of light who will come to Barbas to deliver us from these dark times. I can tell you very little of those you seek, except to relate to you the legends handed down to us through the generations.”
“Our ancestors once lived on the surface, as you do, and they waged war with a great city of demon fish deep below. Our people drew the war to a final end by casting down the tear of the god of rain and storms, where it burst in the depths and drove the waters of the flooded caverns away, and the spirits of the fallen ancients still guard this region.”
“The Cerulean Curtain,” Marius said.
Vertram nodded. “The presence of our ancestors holds the waters at bay, and as long as they persist, the demon fish cannot return. Yet I believe something else has filled the void left by the expulsion of the fish. I fear that whatever has moved into the ruins of their city may be seeking their vile secrets, and if they discover them, they may become an even greater threat to the world.”
“These demon fish,” Mandi asked, “can you describe them?”
Vertram leaned forward further, smiling cryptically. “I can do better than that. Would you like to see one?”
“You know where one is?” Mandi asked incredulously. “Alive?”
“I will leave that for you to decide,” Vertram answered, “and it will be a question that will have to wait until morning. For now, rest and enjoy the hospitality of my people.”
___________________________________________________________
The following morning, with the company rested and refreshed, Vertram led them through the city once more, this time accompanied by several of his warriors. As the group moved through the town, they noticed the residents were silently packing their few belongings, and noted many expressions of sadness and fear.
“What’s going on?” Sepoto asked. “Where are they going?”
Vertram smiled sadly. “My visions have warned me that the doom that comes to Barbas cannot be diverted. After I return from guiding you to the Cavern of the Sleeping God I intend to lead my people up to higher caves, or perhaps even to the surface. Barbas’ time has come and gone.”
Mandi was pensive for several minutes as they walked, but when they reached the gates she turned to the headman, a dangerous sparkle in her eye.
“I have an idea. I have told you of Farshore and its trials. We could use people such as yours…survivors who are resourceful and self-sufficient. I would encourage you to please consider leading your people south, along the shoreline to Tanaroa, and from there to Temute, where you will find Farshore.”
Vertram blinked, taken by surprise. “Us?” he asked after a moment. “You…want us to join your people? You have seen my folk. The surface dwellers would not find them…pleasing to look upon.”
Mandi laughed, and swept her arms to her comrades. “Look at us! And we’re heroes! Oh, I’m sure there will be some dissenters, but I believe the vast majority will welcome you with open arms. I will pen a personal letter of introduction to the Lady Mayor, Lavinia Vanderboren. I guarantee you that you will find succor in Farshore.”
Vertram blinked several more times, his red eyes damp and rheumy. “I will take your offer under close advisement,” he said when he had regained his composure.
The headman and his warriors led the company back through the maze, and from there down a narrow side passage they had missed when they had passed that way earlier. After approximately a half mile, they came to another large cavern. On the far side, the Cerulean Curtain extended all the way to the sixty-foot high ceiling. Across its surface, ghostly Maztican warriors shimmered and flickered. Just beyond it, the occasional bubble or flash of scales revealed the presence of thousands of gallons of water, their awesome weight held at bay by the shell of energy. On the floor in the center of the cave was a strange looking mound of stone shaped like an enormous, petrified fish.
“Behold!” Vertram said with a flourish. “The devil fish itself! Come, gaze upon it! Place your ear to its skin! Learn from it what you can!”
Mandi and the others approached cautiously.
“It’s an aboleth,” the wizard said as she gazed upon the behemoth. “They are a race of very intelligent beings, but also very evil. They are known to enslave others in order to build their hidden cities”
“It’s alive,” Daelric said, pressing his ear to the aboleth’s stony side. “I can hear its heart beat.”
“It’s the Curtain,” Marius said. “It’s holding back the water. Without the water, the aboleth dried up. It must be in some sort of suspended animation.”
“Then perhaps we can reach it,” Mandi said. “I can use the same magic that allowed us to mentally communicate.”
Tower Cleaver scowled at this.
“Perhaps it can tell us more about the kopru,” Mandi continued, ignoring the minotaur’s wounded look.
Placing her hands upon the petrified aboleth, Mandi cast her spell.
‘Great one,’ she called, ‘we come beseeching your wisdom. Can you hear me?’
In response, her mind was suddenly flooded with violent, savage images of madness. No coherent thought came to her.
“It is in torment,” she said aloud. “Perhaps its hibernating state has unbalanced it. Perhaps moving it back into the water will restore it.”
“What?” Samson barked. “Are you mad? You just said that these things were able to mentally enslave other creatures! What’s to prevent it from doing that to us if you awaken it?”
Mandi shrugged. “We’ll kill it if it tries. Cleaver, do you think you can push it through the Curtain?”
The minotaur looked appraisingly at the aboleth, and then nodded. He leaned down and grabbed the fish’s tail, then began dragging it towards the Cerulean Curtain. When he reached it, he got behind the beast and shoved it through the barrier. Several minutes ticked by, and in that period, the onlookers saw the stony shell of the aboleth begin to soften until it was the consistency of mud. Soon after, it formed a layer of thick, slimy mucous, and the great creature flicked its tail, rising majestically into the water beyond the curtain, awake once more.
‘Great one,’ Mandi repeated. ‘Do you understand me?’
‘Kill! Destroy! Enslave!’ The thoughts roared back at her with such savagery that the elf rocked back on her heels, grabbing her head in pain. Abruptly, a dazzling curtain of hypnotic, rainbow colored light appeared in the air before the company. Vertram and his guards stared raptly at it, their eyes going blank.
“Pretty,” Tower Cleaver said, dreamily.
“It’s no use,” Mandi said after she recovered herself. “Its mind is gone. It’s trying to attack us. I have no choice.”
She began casting, her incantation a sing-song of power. When her spell was complete, a flash of magic flickered between her and the aboleth, piercing the Cerulean Curtain. When the light vanished, the aboleth was gone. In its place was a small goldfish. Abruptly, there was a flash of motion in the water behind it as a large barracuda lunged out of the gloom, swallowing it whole.
Aholibamah
First Post
I'm still really enjoying this--I love the way the sense of the group is conveyed, as tough but competent mercenaries, and the way the magic is described, the npcs presented very well and the whole atmosphere of this adventure path so thoroughly explored.
JollyDoc
Explorer
Aholibamah said:
Thanks! The group really enjoys the AP, so that makes it easier to translate their experience into a narrative. There was some really good interplay this past week between them and Irgzid's mysterious master. Their ultimate decision on how to approach Golismorga was unexpected...as I've come to expect...and thus vastly more entertaining.
carborundum
Adventurer
It just gets better and better! I can't believe Mandi zapped the aboleth! Brilliant 
It's like following a great TV series, with teaser trailers à la Lost or 24.
I am quite bemused as to the Golismorga approach, but it looks spectacular to say the least! Roll on the next episode
Plus, I'm looking forward to Meravanchi's reaction when the mongrelfolk turn up.
It's like following a great TV series, with teaser trailers à la Lost or 24.
I am quite bemused as to the Golismorga approach, but it looks spectacular to say the least! Roll on the next episode
Plus, I'm looking forward to Meravanchi's reaction when the mongrelfolk turn up.
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