carborundum
Adventurer
All caught up! Happy New Year, Lazybones 
Forgotten Lore (Updated M-W-F)
Lazybones
Adventurer
Thanks!
* * *
Chapter 108
The mining complex was expansive, spreading out across a broad area on the edge of the forest. The active works were situated in a shallow dell surrounded by knobs of exposed granite. As they emerged from the woods the four adventurers could see at least a dozen man-made gashes in the landscape, ranging from exposed veins that had been hacked open to shafts that burrowed at a steep angle into the substrate. It was immediately obvious which were still active, as the others were choked with brush and tall weeds that had rushed in to reclaim those areas as soon as the miners had turned their attention elsewhere. Old, rusted machines and rickety huts stood sentry around those abandoned sites, slowly decaying into nothing.
For a long moment the four of them remained on the lip of the dell, studying the area.
“No bugs,” Glori finally said.
“We’re a good distance off from the active mines,” Quellan said. “Over there, I think,” he said, pointing to a location near the far end of the dell where several intact huts and a scattering of tents were just visible.
“Should we circle around?” Bredan asked. “Stay in the cover of the trees?”
“They’re beetles, not an enemy army,” Kosk said.
“It can’t hurt not to go rushing in blindly for once,” Glori said lightly.
“Fine,” Kosk said. He started forward along the edge of the dell, forcing the others to hurry to keep up.
“Just like old times, eh?” Glori said to Quellan as they followed the dwarf.
It didn’t take long for them to make their way around the rim of the dell, even though they had to detour around crumbling gullies and dense tangles of brush that seemed to spring up everywhere there was even the slightest gap in the forest canopy. As they got closer to the mines they could see more of the works, including mounds of tailings that had been excavated from the shafts. It looked like only the bare minimum of refining was done on-site, with several crude smelting ovens situated close to the edge of the dell and the ready source of fuel offered by the forest. They could see now the rough road that exited the forest and trailed down into the dell before culminating in the current mining operation. The busy part of the works seemed to be centered around three shafts that all burrowed into the steepest side of the dell, its southern face. The area was dotted with formations of exposed granite that ranged in size from a wagon to a small inn, with some composed of clumps of boulders and others a single mass of weathered rock that stuck up from the ground like a giant’s fist.
“If they were smart, they would have just climbed up on one of those when the beetles attacked,” Bredan said, pointing to one of the larger formations.
“It’s easy to make plans when you’re not in the middle of an attack,” Glori said.
“In any case, such a course might have offered only temporary shelter,” Quellan said. “Many species of insect are excellent climbers.”
“Do your books offer any suggestions for wiping them out?” Bredan asked.
“Oil,” Kosk said. The dwarf had gone about fifteen paces ahead of them but was clearly still listening in on their conversation. “We find the supplies that Caleron mentioned, then we burn them out.”
“Those mine tunnels could go pretty far in,” Glori pointed out. “This site has been worked for decades. From what I heard in town, some of the veins of silver go way, way down.”
“Then we block off the entry, and let the smoke do our work for us,” the dwarf said.
“Dwarves do know more about working underground than just about anybody,” Quellan said.
Bredan frowned—he knew that a fire would go out if it didn’t have air to feed it—but he admitted that what he knew about mines was limited to the metals that came out of them. He thought about how long it had been since he’d worked a forge, and for a moment found himself actually nostalgic for the blazing heat and the burning in his muscles as he wielded the heavy tools, forcing metal to bend to his will.
He reached back to check the fit of his sword in its scabbard. He still used a heavy tool, though in a different way.
Kosk led them though the last fringe of trees and scattered brush to the road. “Road” was actually a fairly generous term; it was little more than a path through the forest that had been expanded by years of carts, pack mules, and miners traveling between the mines to Wildrush. In its heyday during the silver rush this place must have been intense with activity, but now it was just an echo of its former self. From their vantage they could see most of the camp, though there were considerable portions hidden behind overgrown mounds of tailings and the ubiquitous heaps of boulders. The signs of the miners’ hasty retreat were evident, with a number of tents having collapsed and tools left scattered where they’d been dropped. Faint wisps of smoke rose from a campfire that was still smoldering.
“I admit, from what the miners said, I expected this place to be crawling,” Bredan said.
“Maybe they went back underground,” Glori said. “There probably isn’t much for them up here. They can’t eat rocks, after all.”
“We should still be careful,” Quellan said.
They set out down the road, but had only covered maybe twenty paces when Glori let out a hiss that had the three men jumping. “There!”
They followed her pointed finger and saw a dark form that skittered out from around a rock maybe fifty paces ahead and to their left. The beetle was about the size of a hunting dog, maybe three feet long from its mandibles to the end of its abdomen. Its entire body was the dull black of deepest night. It skittered over the rocks, moving generally in their direction without any apparent urgency.
“Doesn’t look like much,” Bredan said.
“We know those mandibles are strong enough to snap bones,” Quellan reminded him.
Glori lifted her bow, but hesitated. The beetle was still coming closer, but it wasn’t clear if it had detected their presence.
“Save your arrow,” Kosk said. He picked up a pebble and slung it at the beetle. The missile missed, but smacked hard into a large stone a few feet from it. The beetle immediately shot forward.
Bredan drew his sword, but Kosk didn’t wait for him. He strode forward into the rocks to meet the charging insect, which immediately changed course to meet him. The thing went for his legs, but before it could get close enough to strike the dwarf thrust his staff out. He caught it under the front of its shell and flipped it over. The beetle landed in the rocks nearby and skittered in a wild effort to right itself.
“Thick shells,” Kosk said, tapping it with his staff as he circled around the thing. “Softer on the bottom, of course, but it might be thick enough to turn an arrow, barring a direct hit.”
“It looks like a relative to the common fire beetle,” Quellan said. “Similar bite, body type… without the illuminative glands, of course. And I’ve never seen such pure coloration before.”
“Well, if it lives underground, there’s no point to colors, right?” Glori asked.
“Yes, but most subterranean species develop an absence of coloration, rather than pure black like this,” the cleric said.
The beetle lurched and almost got itself turned enough to gain purchase on the rocks. Kosk raised his staff, but before he could strike Bredan thrust down with his sword, stabbing into its head and instantly ending its struggles.
“Another glorious victory for us,” Glori said with a grin. “Let’s hope his brothers and sisters and cousins don’t come seeking vengeance.”
They resumed their progress into the dell, following the road for the benefit of mobility it gave. The miners had cleared away most of the brush in the areas where they had been working, but hadn’t bothered with the rest. In some places there wasn’t enough soil to support a lot of growth, but they passed several dense thickets that could have each hidden a hundred beetles. They gave those spots as wide a berth as they could. As they got close to the camp they veered off the road, clambering up onto a small mound of boulders that would give them a better view.
From their perch they could see more signs of the damage wrought in the surprise assault. One of the huts where the miners slept had completely collapsed, and they could see more tents that lay in tatters in sheltered spaces among the rocks. They also saw more beetles skittering around the area, looking for something edible.
“Okay, this seems more dangerous,” Glori said.
“There’s a couple dozen at least,” Bredan added.
“From what the mine foreman said, they must have come from that shaft over there,” Quellan said, pointing to the dark opening that stood closest to the road. Above it the crumbling edge of the steep rise that marked the southern boundary of the dell rose about thirty feet, the summit covered in a dense fringe of tall weeds.
“That must be the miners’ supply hut over there, then,” Glori said, indicating a hut about a hundred and fifty feet from the target mine. The hut appeared to be mostly intact, though they could see only one side of it from their current position.
“We’ll need to deal with these bugs before we can make a move on the mine,” Bredan said.
“Perhaps we can use your earlier suggestion, and engage them from high ground,” Quellan said.
“I thought you said they could climb,” Glori asked.
“Well, if we can delay them, that may give us enough time to kill them all,” the cleric said.
“Whatever we’re going to do, we’d better do it fast!” Kosk said, punctuating the comment as he hopped down from his boulder and drove his staff through the body of a beetle that had crept up on them unobserved. The staff impaled it, killing it instantly, but a second beetle emerged from the bushes behind it a moment later. It issued a sound, a sharp whine that was just shy of painful. The pulse lasted only a second, but every other beetle in sight suddenly turned and charged toward their position. They were joined by others that had been hiding in the rocks or in the bushes nearby, until there were at least thirty of the creatures converging on them.
“Oh, damn!” Glori said.
* * *
Chapter 108
The mining complex was expansive, spreading out across a broad area on the edge of the forest. The active works were situated in a shallow dell surrounded by knobs of exposed granite. As they emerged from the woods the four adventurers could see at least a dozen man-made gashes in the landscape, ranging from exposed veins that had been hacked open to shafts that burrowed at a steep angle into the substrate. It was immediately obvious which were still active, as the others were choked with brush and tall weeds that had rushed in to reclaim those areas as soon as the miners had turned their attention elsewhere. Old, rusted machines and rickety huts stood sentry around those abandoned sites, slowly decaying into nothing.
For a long moment the four of them remained on the lip of the dell, studying the area.
“No bugs,” Glori finally said.
“We’re a good distance off from the active mines,” Quellan said. “Over there, I think,” he said, pointing to a location near the far end of the dell where several intact huts and a scattering of tents were just visible.
“Should we circle around?” Bredan asked. “Stay in the cover of the trees?”
“They’re beetles, not an enemy army,” Kosk said.
“It can’t hurt not to go rushing in blindly for once,” Glori said lightly.
“Fine,” Kosk said. He started forward along the edge of the dell, forcing the others to hurry to keep up.
“Just like old times, eh?” Glori said to Quellan as they followed the dwarf.
It didn’t take long for them to make their way around the rim of the dell, even though they had to detour around crumbling gullies and dense tangles of brush that seemed to spring up everywhere there was even the slightest gap in the forest canopy. As they got closer to the mines they could see more of the works, including mounds of tailings that had been excavated from the shafts. It looked like only the bare minimum of refining was done on-site, with several crude smelting ovens situated close to the edge of the dell and the ready source of fuel offered by the forest. They could see now the rough road that exited the forest and trailed down into the dell before culminating in the current mining operation. The busy part of the works seemed to be centered around three shafts that all burrowed into the steepest side of the dell, its southern face. The area was dotted with formations of exposed granite that ranged in size from a wagon to a small inn, with some composed of clumps of boulders and others a single mass of weathered rock that stuck up from the ground like a giant’s fist.
“If they were smart, they would have just climbed up on one of those when the beetles attacked,” Bredan said, pointing to one of the larger formations.
“It’s easy to make plans when you’re not in the middle of an attack,” Glori said.
“In any case, such a course might have offered only temporary shelter,” Quellan said. “Many species of insect are excellent climbers.”
“Do your books offer any suggestions for wiping them out?” Bredan asked.
“Oil,” Kosk said. The dwarf had gone about fifteen paces ahead of them but was clearly still listening in on their conversation. “We find the supplies that Caleron mentioned, then we burn them out.”
“Those mine tunnels could go pretty far in,” Glori pointed out. “This site has been worked for decades. From what I heard in town, some of the veins of silver go way, way down.”
“Then we block off the entry, and let the smoke do our work for us,” the dwarf said.
“Dwarves do know more about working underground than just about anybody,” Quellan said.
Bredan frowned—he knew that a fire would go out if it didn’t have air to feed it—but he admitted that what he knew about mines was limited to the metals that came out of them. He thought about how long it had been since he’d worked a forge, and for a moment found himself actually nostalgic for the blazing heat and the burning in his muscles as he wielded the heavy tools, forcing metal to bend to his will.
He reached back to check the fit of his sword in its scabbard. He still used a heavy tool, though in a different way.
Kosk led them though the last fringe of trees and scattered brush to the road. “Road” was actually a fairly generous term; it was little more than a path through the forest that had been expanded by years of carts, pack mules, and miners traveling between the mines to Wildrush. In its heyday during the silver rush this place must have been intense with activity, but now it was just an echo of its former self. From their vantage they could see most of the camp, though there were considerable portions hidden behind overgrown mounds of tailings and the ubiquitous heaps of boulders. The signs of the miners’ hasty retreat were evident, with a number of tents having collapsed and tools left scattered where they’d been dropped. Faint wisps of smoke rose from a campfire that was still smoldering.
“I admit, from what the miners said, I expected this place to be crawling,” Bredan said.
“Maybe they went back underground,” Glori said. “There probably isn’t much for them up here. They can’t eat rocks, after all.”
“We should still be careful,” Quellan said.
They set out down the road, but had only covered maybe twenty paces when Glori let out a hiss that had the three men jumping. “There!”
They followed her pointed finger and saw a dark form that skittered out from around a rock maybe fifty paces ahead and to their left. The beetle was about the size of a hunting dog, maybe three feet long from its mandibles to the end of its abdomen. Its entire body was the dull black of deepest night. It skittered over the rocks, moving generally in their direction without any apparent urgency.
“Doesn’t look like much,” Bredan said.
“We know those mandibles are strong enough to snap bones,” Quellan reminded him.
Glori lifted her bow, but hesitated. The beetle was still coming closer, but it wasn’t clear if it had detected their presence.
“Save your arrow,” Kosk said. He picked up a pebble and slung it at the beetle. The missile missed, but smacked hard into a large stone a few feet from it. The beetle immediately shot forward.
Bredan drew his sword, but Kosk didn’t wait for him. He strode forward into the rocks to meet the charging insect, which immediately changed course to meet him. The thing went for his legs, but before it could get close enough to strike the dwarf thrust his staff out. He caught it under the front of its shell and flipped it over. The beetle landed in the rocks nearby and skittered in a wild effort to right itself.
“Thick shells,” Kosk said, tapping it with his staff as he circled around the thing. “Softer on the bottom, of course, but it might be thick enough to turn an arrow, barring a direct hit.”
“It looks like a relative to the common fire beetle,” Quellan said. “Similar bite, body type… without the illuminative glands, of course. And I’ve never seen such pure coloration before.”
“Well, if it lives underground, there’s no point to colors, right?” Glori asked.
“Yes, but most subterranean species develop an absence of coloration, rather than pure black like this,” the cleric said.
The beetle lurched and almost got itself turned enough to gain purchase on the rocks. Kosk raised his staff, but before he could strike Bredan thrust down with his sword, stabbing into its head and instantly ending its struggles.
“Another glorious victory for us,” Glori said with a grin. “Let’s hope his brothers and sisters and cousins don’t come seeking vengeance.”
They resumed their progress into the dell, following the road for the benefit of mobility it gave. The miners had cleared away most of the brush in the areas where they had been working, but hadn’t bothered with the rest. In some places there wasn’t enough soil to support a lot of growth, but they passed several dense thickets that could have each hidden a hundred beetles. They gave those spots as wide a berth as they could. As they got close to the camp they veered off the road, clambering up onto a small mound of boulders that would give them a better view.
From their perch they could see more signs of the damage wrought in the surprise assault. One of the huts where the miners slept had completely collapsed, and they could see more tents that lay in tatters in sheltered spaces among the rocks. They also saw more beetles skittering around the area, looking for something edible.
“Okay, this seems more dangerous,” Glori said.
“There’s a couple dozen at least,” Bredan added.
“From what the mine foreman said, they must have come from that shaft over there,” Quellan said, pointing to the dark opening that stood closest to the road. Above it the crumbling edge of the steep rise that marked the southern boundary of the dell rose about thirty feet, the summit covered in a dense fringe of tall weeds.
“That must be the miners’ supply hut over there, then,” Glori said, indicating a hut about a hundred and fifty feet from the target mine. The hut appeared to be mostly intact, though they could see only one side of it from their current position.
“We’ll need to deal with these bugs before we can make a move on the mine,” Bredan said.
“Perhaps we can use your earlier suggestion, and engage them from high ground,” Quellan said.
“I thought you said they could climb,” Glori asked.
“Well, if we can delay them, that may give us enough time to kill them all,” the cleric said.
“Whatever we’re going to do, we’d better do it fast!” Kosk said, punctuating the comment as he hopped down from his boulder and drove his staff through the body of a beetle that had crept up on them unobserved. The staff impaled it, killing it instantly, but a second beetle emerged from the bushes behind it a moment later. It issued a sound, a sharp whine that was just shy of painful. The pulse lasted only a second, but every other beetle in sight suddenly turned and charged toward their position. They were joined by others that had been hiding in the rocks or in the bushes nearby, until there were at least thirty of the creatures converging on them.
“Oh, damn!” Glori said.
Lazybones
Adventurer
Chapter 109
The beetle facing Kosk lunged forward, its mandibles snapping for an exposed leg. The dwarf sprang back up onto the rocks but the beetle followed, clambering up after him.
“Guess what, these ones can climb!” he warned his friends. The monk smacked the creature in the head with his staff before it could reach him, knocking it off the boulder. It landed on its back and lay there squirming.
“Good to know!” Bredan yelled back. He lifted his crossbow and fired at the closest beetle, but the bolt stabbed into the ground right in front of it. The beetle clambered over it without slowing. Quellan, lacking a missile weapon, hefted his mace and crept forward to the forward edge of their rampart. The pile of boulders that had seemed impressive when they’d been climbing up onto them now seemed rather close to the ground. After a moment’s hesitation he tucked his weapon under his arm and extended his hand in a beckoning gesture. With a soft whoosh his newly-won sacred flame enveloped one of the bugs, drawing a high-pitched shriek from it before it collapsed in a charred heap.
“That’s new,” Bredan said as he reloaded his bow.
“That’s good!” Kosk said in encouragement. “Do that thirty more times and we’re good!”
Glori started to lift her bow, but hesitated. There were plenty of targets, but it looked like she’d only get one shot before the nearest beetles reached their refuge. Instead she jumped down and sprinted into the miners’ camp.
“Glori!” Bredan shouted.
“I’ve got a plan!” she yelled back.
About half of the beetles turned to intercept her, but her intended destination wasn’t far away. On the edge of the camp there was an old cart that lay at an angle, with one wheel broken. From the rust on the axle it had been there for a while. Glori hopped up onto it, waving her arms to keep her balance as the cart swayed unsteadily with her weight.
“That won’t stop them,” Bredan said.
“We have to trust her,” Quellan said.
“There’s a few more coming up from behind,” Kosk reported as he joined the others atop the heap of boulders. “What’s she doing now?” he asked as he saw Glori.
“Something heroic and stupid, no doubt,” Bredan said.
Glori waved her arms and yelled, drawing even more of the beetles to her. As the first ones reached the cart they skittered up onto it, snapping at the bard’s feet. She retreated further, up onto the very edge of the still-intact wheel, balancing precariously on the narrow rim. More beetles clambered onto the cart, while two others tried to climb the wheel to get to her. One managed to scrape its mandibles on the upper rim a scant finger’s breadth from Glori’s boots.
Glori waited a heartbeat longer. Then she flashed her hands over her lyre, and her brow furrowed for a moment as she concentrated on her magic.
Bredan, who knew what was coming, tensed in anticipation, but he still flinched when the blast of Glori’s thunderwave reached him. The pulse of raw sonic energy couldn’t inflict any real damage from that far away, but it still felt as though someone was trying to loosen his bones from inside his body.
The beetles, on the other hand, absorbed the full force of the spell. The ones closest to Glori were shattered like eggs, flung backwards from the point of impact to lay broken on the rocks. Those a bit further back were stunned by the intensity of the pulse, and a few that had been making a beeline for the cart turned and wandered in random directions as if confused by the whole affair.
The spell also vaporized the cart, but Glori seemed ready for that, and as the wheel collapsed from under her she leapt clear and landed in a patch of dirt a few paces away, coming up into an easy roll that barely mussed her cloak. Unfortunately for her there was a beetle a few feet away that she hadn’t noticed, and as she regained her feet it let out a chirp and lunged for her exposed right ankle. Too late she turned and saw the threat.
But just before the mandibles would have snapped shut the beetle shook and came to a sudden stop. Glori could see the crossbow bolt that had impaled it right between the eyes, so deep that only the fletched end was visible. She turned and flashed a thumbs-up to Bredan, who looked just as surprised that he’d finally managed to hit something with his crossbow.
More of the beetles were recovering and coming toward her again, but Glori quickly spun and sprinted back toward the mound of boulders. Kosk flicked a beetle off with his staff, while Quellan leapt down to help clear her path, kicking a beetle that threatened to cut her off. The beetle rolled through the camp like a child’s ball, finally coming to a stop near the supply hut.
“Xeeta would have been really helpful right about now!” Kosk said as Glori sprang up onto the rocks. Bredan gave the half-orc a hand back up then drew his sword. Glori spun with her bow in hand and shot a beetle that tried to snap at the cleric’s boot. “You got another of those spells?” the dwarf asked Glori.
“Yeah, but I can’t set it off without blasting all of you,” she yelled back.
“I think we’ve got this,” Bredan said as he skewered another of the beetles. The survivors were all gathered around the base of the mound, but the need to clamber up onto the rocks was slowing them just enough to leave them open to the adventurers’ weapons. For a moment the only sound was the skittering of their feet and the clacking of their mandibles, punctuated by the louder sounds of steel and wood smashing into their bodies.
And then, so suddenly that it almost caught them off guard, it was over. Insect bodies and pieces of them were scattered all over and around the mounded boulders, but none of them were stirring.
“Is that all of them?” Glori asked.
“Is anyone hurt?” Quellan asked.
“It looks like we won this round,” Kosk said. He hopped down from the rocks, stepping over a partially-squished beetle. “Let’s finish this before the rest of them come. That spell-blast may draw every bug within a mile, or something worse.”
“Always seeing the bright side,” Bredan said, but he followed the dwarf as he started toward the supply hut. As he walked he took out a rag and cleaned his sword.
Quellan jumped down and then turned to help Glori. “That was a good plan,” he said.
“I am glad my master had me do balance exercises,” she said. “Comes in handy during a performance, but it’s a skill with broader application, it seems.”
Kosk kept a close eye on the dark mouth of the mine shaft as he made his way toward the hut where the miners kept their oil. The initial wave of beetles had been dealt with handily, but there was something here that didn’t sit right, something that just felt off. He doubted that the beetles they’d fought were the full sum of the infestation. The plan to use the oil to cleanse the mine was sound, and probably their best option since crawling down into the mine to hunt the things would be beyond risky. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was missing something.
As he turned back to the shack he caught a hint of movement from within. The tiny building was shoddy in its construction, with gaping cracks between the boards that made up its walls and a roof that looked like it would fly off with the first strong breeze, let alone one of the storms that plagued these mountains. The door was to his left, attached to the wood on crude leather hinges. The openings in the wall weren’t quite big enough for him to clearly see in the interior, but whatever it had been was too big to have been one of the beetles. Kosk tensed and lifted his staff, ready for an attack.
There was a small flash, and something shot out from one of the larger gaps in the shack’s wall. Kosk started to dodge, but realized that the missile wasn’t coming toward him. Instead it headed for the dark opening of the mineshaft. He just barely had a chance to see that it was a pale, slightly glowing sphere the size of a fist before it vanished into the narrow tunnel.
“What was that?” Bredan asked.
Kosk didn’t get a chance to answer before a loud sound boomed out from the mine. It sounded almost as loud as Glori’s spell, the sonic pulse amplified by the tight confines of the shaft. He imagined what it would do to the beetles, but figured that was probably the point.
“Wizard!” he warned, just in case the others hadn’t made the connection. Kosk hadn’t forgotten the attack on their caravan on the road through the mountains, or the way that the lead wagon had mysteriously burst into flame in the middle of the ambush. The dwarf had faced enough spellcasters in his long and unusual career to know that the key to defeating them was not giving them time to unleash their magic. Without waiting to see what the others would do he charged forward toward the door of the shack. It had a simple embedded latch that looked like it could be worked from either side, but he didn’t bother with it. Instead he lifted his foot and delivered a snap-kick that blasted the thing open. He followed that with a lunge that brought his staff into a ready position.
He noticed two things at once. The first was that the hut, somehow, was empty. The interior was just one small room, and while there were plenty of openings in the walls, none of them were big enough for even a goblin to squeeze through.
But that realization was overpowered by the flash to his right, and he turned to see sparks from a series of flints jammed into the door as they caught on a sodden rag set on top of a broached cask. A strong scent confirmed its contents even if he hadn’t seen the warnings blazoned on the sides of the container.
Kosk opened his mouth to issue a curse, but didn’t get a chance before the shack exploded.
The beetle facing Kosk lunged forward, its mandibles snapping for an exposed leg. The dwarf sprang back up onto the rocks but the beetle followed, clambering up after him.
“Guess what, these ones can climb!” he warned his friends. The monk smacked the creature in the head with his staff before it could reach him, knocking it off the boulder. It landed on its back and lay there squirming.
“Good to know!” Bredan yelled back. He lifted his crossbow and fired at the closest beetle, but the bolt stabbed into the ground right in front of it. The beetle clambered over it without slowing. Quellan, lacking a missile weapon, hefted his mace and crept forward to the forward edge of their rampart. The pile of boulders that had seemed impressive when they’d been climbing up onto them now seemed rather close to the ground. After a moment’s hesitation he tucked his weapon under his arm and extended his hand in a beckoning gesture. With a soft whoosh his newly-won sacred flame enveloped one of the bugs, drawing a high-pitched shriek from it before it collapsed in a charred heap.
“That’s new,” Bredan said as he reloaded his bow.
“That’s good!” Kosk said in encouragement. “Do that thirty more times and we’re good!”
Glori started to lift her bow, but hesitated. There were plenty of targets, but it looked like she’d only get one shot before the nearest beetles reached their refuge. Instead she jumped down and sprinted into the miners’ camp.
“Glori!” Bredan shouted.
“I’ve got a plan!” she yelled back.
About half of the beetles turned to intercept her, but her intended destination wasn’t far away. On the edge of the camp there was an old cart that lay at an angle, with one wheel broken. From the rust on the axle it had been there for a while. Glori hopped up onto it, waving her arms to keep her balance as the cart swayed unsteadily with her weight.
“That won’t stop them,” Bredan said.
“We have to trust her,” Quellan said.
“There’s a few more coming up from behind,” Kosk reported as he joined the others atop the heap of boulders. “What’s she doing now?” he asked as he saw Glori.
“Something heroic and stupid, no doubt,” Bredan said.
Glori waved her arms and yelled, drawing even more of the beetles to her. As the first ones reached the cart they skittered up onto it, snapping at the bard’s feet. She retreated further, up onto the very edge of the still-intact wheel, balancing precariously on the narrow rim. More beetles clambered onto the cart, while two others tried to climb the wheel to get to her. One managed to scrape its mandibles on the upper rim a scant finger’s breadth from Glori’s boots.
Glori waited a heartbeat longer. Then she flashed her hands over her lyre, and her brow furrowed for a moment as she concentrated on her magic.
Bredan, who knew what was coming, tensed in anticipation, but he still flinched when the blast of Glori’s thunderwave reached him. The pulse of raw sonic energy couldn’t inflict any real damage from that far away, but it still felt as though someone was trying to loosen his bones from inside his body.
The beetles, on the other hand, absorbed the full force of the spell. The ones closest to Glori were shattered like eggs, flung backwards from the point of impact to lay broken on the rocks. Those a bit further back were stunned by the intensity of the pulse, and a few that had been making a beeline for the cart turned and wandered in random directions as if confused by the whole affair.
The spell also vaporized the cart, but Glori seemed ready for that, and as the wheel collapsed from under her she leapt clear and landed in a patch of dirt a few paces away, coming up into an easy roll that barely mussed her cloak. Unfortunately for her there was a beetle a few feet away that she hadn’t noticed, and as she regained her feet it let out a chirp and lunged for her exposed right ankle. Too late she turned and saw the threat.
But just before the mandibles would have snapped shut the beetle shook and came to a sudden stop. Glori could see the crossbow bolt that had impaled it right between the eyes, so deep that only the fletched end was visible. She turned and flashed a thumbs-up to Bredan, who looked just as surprised that he’d finally managed to hit something with his crossbow.
More of the beetles were recovering and coming toward her again, but Glori quickly spun and sprinted back toward the mound of boulders. Kosk flicked a beetle off with his staff, while Quellan leapt down to help clear her path, kicking a beetle that threatened to cut her off. The beetle rolled through the camp like a child’s ball, finally coming to a stop near the supply hut.
“Xeeta would have been really helpful right about now!” Kosk said as Glori sprang up onto the rocks. Bredan gave the half-orc a hand back up then drew his sword. Glori spun with her bow in hand and shot a beetle that tried to snap at the cleric’s boot. “You got another of those spells?” the dwarf asked Glori.
“Yeah, but I can’t set it off without blasting all of you,” she yelled back.
“I think we’ve got this,” Bredan said as he skewered another of the beetles. The survivors were all gathered around the base of the mound, but the need to clamber up onto the rocks was slowing them just enough to leave them open to the adventurers’ weapons. For a moment the only sound was the skittering of their feet and the clacking of their mandibles, punctuated by the louder sounds of steel and wood smashing into their bodies.
And then, so suddenly that it almost caught them off guard, it was over. Insect bodies and pieces of them were scattered all over and around the mounded boulders, but none of them were stirring.
“Is that all of them?” Glori asked.
“Is anyone hurt?” Quellan asked.
“It looks like we won this round,” Kosk said. He hopped down from the rocks, stepping over a partially-squished beetle. “Let’s finish this before the rest of them come. That spell-blast may draw every bug within a mile, or something worse.”
“Always seeing the bright side,” Bredan said, but he followed the dwarf as he started toward the supply hut. As he walked he took out a rag and cleaned his sword.
Quellan jumped down and then turned to help Glori. “That was a good plan,” he said.
“I am glad my master had me do balance exercises,” she said. “Comes in handy during a performance, but it’s a skill with broader application, it seems.”
Kosk kept a close eye on the dark mouth of the mine shaft as he made his way toward the hut where the miners kept their oil. The initial wave of beetles had been dealt with handily, but there was something here that didn’t sit right, something that just felt off. He doubted that the beetles they’d fought were the full sum of the infestation. The plan to use the oil to cleanse the mine was sound, and probably their best option since crawling down into the mine to hunt the things would be beyond risky. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was missing something.
As he turned back to the shack he caught a hint of movement from within. The tiny building was shoddy in its construction, with gaping cracks between the boards that made up its walls and a roof that looked like it would fly off with the first strong breeze, let alone one of the storms that plagued these mountains. The door was to his left, attached to the wood on crude leather hinges. The openings in the wall weren’t quite big enough for him to clearly see in the interior, but whatever it had been was too big to have been one of the beetles. Kosk tensed and lifted his staff, ready for an attack.
There was a small flash, and something shot out from one of the larger gaps in the shack’s wall. Kosk started to dodge, but realized that the missile wasn’t coming toward him. Instead it headed for the dark opening of the mineshaft. He just barely had a chance to see that it was a pale, slightly glowing sphere the size of a fist before it vanished into the narrow tunnel.
“What was that?” Bredan asked.
Kosk didn’t get a chance to answer before a loud sound boomed out from the mine. It sounded almost as loud as Glori’s spell, the sonic pulse amplified by the tight confines of the shaft. He imagined what it would do to the beetles, but figured that was probably the point.
“Wizard!” he warned, just in case the others hadn’t made the connection. Kosk hadn’t forgotten the attack on their caravan on the road through the mountains, or the way that the lead wagon had mysteriously burst into flame in the middle of the ambush. The dwarf had faced enough spellcasters in his long and unusual career to know that the key to defeating them was not giving them time to unleash their magic. Without waiting to see what the others would do he charged forward toward the door of the shack. It had a simple embedded latch that looked like it could be worked from either side, but he didn’t bother with it. Instead he lifted his foot and delivered a snap-kick that blasted the thing open. He followed that with a lunge that brought his staff into a ready position.
He noticed two things at once. The first was that the hut, somehow, was empty. The interior was just one small room, and while there were plenty of openings in the walls, none of them were big enough for even a goblin to squeeze through.
But that realization was overpowered by the flash to his right, and he turned to see sparks from a series of flints jammed into the door as they caught on a sodden rag set on top of a broached cask. A strong scent confirmed its contents even if he hadn’t seen the warnings blazoned on the sides of the container.
Kosk opened his mouth to issue a curse, but didn’t get a chance before the shack exploded.
Lazybones
Adventurer
Chapter 110
Bredan blinked as bright lights flashed in his vision and a loud ringing filled his ears. One moment he’d been following Kosk toward the miners’ shack; the next he was lying on the ground, not sure of what had happened. He could feel grit under his fingers. The ground here was fine gravel, the leftovers of years of work pulling earth and stone out from under the ground.
With an effort he managed to lift his head enough to look around. He still couldn’t see very clearly, but he was pretty sure that the shack should have been right in front of him. Now it was gone. There was no sign of Kosk. Turning around was even harder, especially as the motion awakened fresh pains that suggested that whatever had happen had affected more than just his senses. But he had to see what had happened to Glori and Quellan.
They were there, still on their feet about fifteen paces back, but something was wrong. They were both yelling, though Bredan still couldn’t hear anything over the ringing in his ears. He instinctively realized that whatever had just happened, the danger wasn’t over yet. With a flurry of effort he managed to get his hands and feet squared away and tried to get up.
The ground lurched and he almost fell. He thought it was his battered head at first, until he glanced aside and saw that there was a hole in the ground, not two steps from where he stood. He blinked in surprise; had that been there before? That thought evaporated, though, as he saw that he hole was growing, the gravel and dirt around it pouring in as the earth under it collapsed. He turned and tried to stagger clear, but before he could manage even one step he felt the ground give way under his feet.
He didn’t even have time to yell before the sinkhole swallowed him up.
* * *
Quellan was stunned when the shack exploded, and he staggered backwards, barely keeping his footing. Bits of wood and other debris pattered down around him, but he was far enough away that he wasn’t hurt by the blast. Shaking his head to clear it, he saw Kosk lying in the rocks a good ten paces away, the front of his robe scorched and tattered, fresh blood on his face. The cleric’s heart froze for a moment before he saw the dwarf stirring, somehow still conscious after being caught by the full force of the explosion. Bredan had been knocked from his feet, but he too looked to be okay, if dazed.
Quellan was about to go to their aid when he felt a sharp stabbing pain in his shoulder. He reflexively reached up to the wound but felt nothing there.
Realization had him turning around to see Glori coming toward him. She had been bringing up the rear and was the furthest from the explosion, but her face was twisted with pain. As she saw him she turned enough for him to see the arrow jutting from her back, exactly where he had felt the stab of pain through the warding bond he’d laid on her as soon as they’d spotted the mass of beetles in the camp.
He felt something hard bounce off his breastplate, and glanced down to see another arrow, this one broken, lying on the ground at his feet.
They were under attack.
Glori pointed, and Quellan looked up to the weed-choked summit above the mine shafts. There was too much growth there for him to see anything clearly, especially with his senses a bit off from the aftereffects of the explosion, but there was definitely something moving around up there. As if to remove all doubt another missile flashed from the weeds, a stubby crossbow bolt that narrowly missed Glori as she meandered toward him.
Raising his shield to cover his face, he turned to help her, but a deep rumbling drew his attention back around. Now what? he thought, but what he saw still managed to catch him off guard as a massive sinkhole erupted in front of him, the ground pouring into an empty space below. Stumbling back, he watched Bredan slide into the opening from the other side, unable to do anything at all to stop it. When the ground finally stopped collapsing the hole was a good ten paces across, loose dirt and gravel continuing to pour down its steeply sloped sides. Quellan couldn’t see anything below, not even a trace of his fallen friend.
“Bredan!” Glori yelled. She started forward, and for a moment Quellan thought she was going to dive in after him, but after a moment she let him pull her back to relative safety. Missiles continued to rain down on them from above, and Quellan felt a pain in his right hip as something pierced his armor. He didn’t even bother looking down, instead covering Glori with his body as he turned them away from the barrage. For a moment the cleric considered his sacred flame, but their hidden adversaries were too far away.
“We have to get to Kosk!” he yelled. “He’s hurt badly!”
Glori’s response was just a vague sound, but she went with him as they made their way cautiously around the edges of the sinkhole to where the dwarf had fallen. He was barely on the edge of consciousness, and fortunately their ambushers had focused their fire on the members of the group that were still upright and dangerous. As Quellan knelt beside him Glori let out a growl and rose up with an arrow fitted to her bow. Her shot vanished into the weeds. Their enemies still hadn’t shown themselves, though they continued to unleash fire through their cover.
“If I get close enough, I can use a sleep spell,” she said as Quellan poured healing magic into his injured friend. Kosk sputtered and grabbed hold of the cleric’s arm, pulling himself up. “Who?” he sputtered.
“We stay together,” Quellan said to Glori. Ignoring Kosk, who continued muttering curses, he grabbed hold of both of them and hurried them toward the nearest bit of cover, another low heap of boulders about twenty paces back from the edge of the camp. Arrows continued to follow them as they rushed behind the protection of the rocks.
“I caught a glimpse of the wizard,” Kosk said. “He’s around here somewhere. Wait, where’s the boy?”
“He fell into a sinkhole,” Quellan said.
“We can’t leave him,” Glori said.
“Of course not,” Quellan said. “But we won’t be much use to him if we get ourselves killed.”
“How many?” Kosk asked, carefully lifting his head up to peer up over the edge of their shelter. Another arrow bounced off the rocks nearby, but the dwarf did not even flinch.
“From the volume of fire, I’d say four, maybe five,” Glori said.
“You got any magic that can reach that far?” Kosk asked.
Both Glori and Quellan shook their heads, but then the bard said, “I have something new I’ve been working on. Something I saw my mentor use a few times. You’re familiar with invisibility?”
“I’ve seen it before,” Kosk said. “Useful magic. Why didn’t you tell us about this when we fought the chimera?”
“Well, to be honest… I’ve never actually used the spell before,” Glori sad. “But I think I can make it work.”
“How long will it last?” Quellan asked.
“I’m not exactly certain,” Glori said.
The half-orc and dwarf shared a look. “Cast it on me,” Kosk said. “I’ve got the best chance of getting up there anyway.”
“If there are five of them…” Quellan said.
“Better to fight them up there than down here,” Kosk said.
Quellan nodded, and Glori sidled over to the dwarf, careful to keep her head down. But before she could reach for her lyre there was another loud sound, a low-pitched roar that seemed to issue from the ground beneath their feet.
“That can’t be good,” Glori said.
Bredan blinked as bright lights flashed in his vision and a loud ringing filled his ears. One moment he’d been following Kosk toward the miners’ shack; the next he was lying on the ground, not sure of what had happened. He could feel grit under his fingers. The ground here was fine gravel, the leftovers of years of work pulling earth and stone out from under the ground.
With an effort he managed to lift his head enough to look around. He still couldn’t see very clearly, but he was pretty sure that the shack should have been right in front of him. Now it was gone. There was no sign of Kosk. Turning around was even harder, especially as the motion awakened fresh pains that suggested that whatever had happen had affected more than just his senses. But he had to see what had happened to Glori and Quellan.
They were there, still on their feet about fifteen paces back, but something was wrong. They were both yelling, though Bredan still couldn’t hear anything over the ringing in his ears. He instinctively realized that whatever had just happened, the danger wasn’t over yet. With a flurry of effort he managed to get his hands and feet squared away and tried to get up.
The ground lurched and he almost fell. He thought it was his battered head at first, until he glanced aside and saw that there was a hole in the ground, not two steps from where he stood. He blinked in surprise; had that been there before? That thought evaporated, though, as he saw that he hole was growing, the gravel and dirt around it pouring in as the earth under it collapsed. He turned and tried to stagger clear, but before he could manage even one step he felt the ground give way under his feet.
He didn’t even have time to yell before the sinkhole swallowed him up.
* * *
Quellan was stunned when the shack exploded, and he staggered backwards, barely keeping his footing. Bits of wood and other debris pattered down around him, but he was far enough away that he wasn’t hurt by the blast. Shaking his head to clear it, he saw Kosk lying in the rocks a good ten paces away, the front of his robe scorched and tattered, fresh blood on his face. The cleric’s heart froze for a moment before he saw the dwarf stirring, somehow still conscious after being caught by the full force of the explosion. Bredan had been knocked from his feet, but he too looked to be okay, if dazed.
Quellan was about to go to their aid when he felt a sharp stabbing pain in his shoulder. He reflexively reached up to the wound but felt nothing there.
Realization had him turning around to see Glori coming toward him. She had been bringing up the rear and was the furthest from the explosion, but her face was twisted with pain. As she saw him she turned enough for him to see the arrow jutting from her back, exactly where he had felt the stab of pain through the warding bond he’d laid on her as soon as they’d spotted the mass of beetles in the camp.
He felt something hard bounce off his breastplate, and glanced down to see another arrow, this one broken, lying on the ground at his feet.
They were under attack.
Glori pointed, and Quellan looked up to the weed-choked summit above the mine shafts. There was too much growth there for him to see anything clearly, especially with his senses a bit off from the aftereffects of the explosion, but there was definitely something moving around up there. As if to remove all doubt another missile flashed from the weeds, a stubby crossbow bolt that narrowly missed Glori as she meandered toward him.
Raising his shield to cover his face, he turned to help her, but a deep rumbling drew his attention back around. Now what? he thought, but what he saw still managed to catch him off guard as a massive sinkhole erupted in front of him, the ground pouring into an empty space below. Stumbling back, he watched Bredan slide into the opening from the other side, unable to do anything at all to stop it. When the ground finally stopped collapsing the hole was a good ten paces across, loose dirt and gravel continuing to pour down its steeply sloped sides. Quellan couldn’t see anything below, not even a trace of his fallen friend.
“Bredan!” Glori yelled. She started forward, and for a moment Quellan thought she was going to dive in after him, but after a moment she let him pull her back to relative safety. Missiles continued to rain down on them from above, and Quellan felt a pain in his right hip as something pierced his armor. He didn’t even bother looking down, instead covering Glori with his body as he turned them away from the barrage. For a moment the cleric considered his sacred flame, but their hidden adversaries were too far away.
“We have to get to Kosk!” he yelled. “He’s hurt badly!”
Glori’s response was just a vague sound, but she went with him as they made their way cautiously around the edges of the sinkhole to where the dwarf had fallen. He was barely on the edge of consciousness, and fortunately their ambushers had focused their fire on the members of the group that were still upright and dangerous. As Quellan knelt beside him Glori let out a growl and rose up with an arrow fitted to her bow. Her shot vanished into the weeds. Their enemies still hadn’t shown themselves, though they continued to unleash fire through their cover.
“If I get close enough, I can use a sleep spell,” she said as Quellan poured healing magic into his injured friend. Kosk sputtered and grabbed hold of the cleric’s arm, pulling himself up. “Who?” he sputtered.
“We stay together,” Quellan said to Glori. Ignoring Kosk, who continued muttering curses, he grabbed hold of both of them and hurried them toward the nearest bit of cover, another low heap of boulders about twenty paces back from the edge of the camp. Arrows continued to follow them as they rushed behind the protection of the rocks.
“I caught a glimpse of the wizard,” Kosk said. “He’s around here somewhere. Wait, where’s the boy?”
“He fell into a sinkhole,” Quellan said.
“We can’t leave him,” Glori said.
“Of course not,” Quellan said. “But we won’t be much use to him if we get ourselves killed.”
“How many?” Kosk asked, carefully lifting his head up to peer up over the edge of their shelter. Another arrow bounced off the rocks nearby, but the dwarf did not even flinch.
“From the volume of fire, I’d say four, maybe five,” Glori said.
“You got any magic that can reach that far?” Kosk asked.
Both Glori and Quellan shook their heads, but then the bard said, “I have something new I’ve been working on. Something I saw my mentor use a few times. You’re familiar with invisibility?”
“I’ve seen it before,” Kosk said. “Useful magic. Why didn’t you tell us about this when we fought the chimera?”
“Well, to be honest… I’ve never actually used the spell before,” Glori sad. “But I think I can make it work.”
“How long will it last?” Quellan asked.
“I’m not exactly certain,” Glori said.
The half-orc and dwarf shared a look. “Cast it on me,” Kosk said. “I’ve got the best chance of getting up there anyway.”
“If there are five of them…” Quellan said.
“Better to fight them up there than down here,” Kosk said.
Quellan nodded, and Glori sidled over to the dwarf, careful to keep her head down. But before she could reach for her lyre there was another loud sound, a low-pitched roar that seemed to issue from the ground beneath their feet.
“That can’t be good,” Glori said.
carborundum
Adventurer
GM rule number 3: If in doubt, escalate!
Lazybones
Adventurer
Chapter 111
Bredan returned to awareness with a rush of pain and the taste of blood in his mouth. He was lying on a hard, flat surface, though he could feel jagged bits of stone pressing into his skin. Loose rocks skittered away as he got his hands under him and pushed his head up slowly she he could look around.
He was lying on a ledge that overlooked a huge cavern. A thin sliver of light drifted down from above and behind him. Seeing it brought back memory of what had happened. They’d been fighting beetles in the mines, then the supply hut had exploded, and then the sinkhole had opened under him. He must have hit his head and blacked out.
He had no idea how long he’d been here. There was a persistent buzzing in his head, which he’d assumed was a byproduct of the fall, but as his thoughts grew clearer he felt a dawning suspicion that had him creeping forward slowly to the edge of the ledge.
What he saw sent a thrill of icy cold feeling through his gut.
The floor of the cavern was alive with movement, hundreds of the black beetles crawling on and around and over each other. But that wasn’t what froze him, what pushed him to the edge of irrational terror.
The beetle was huge, easily big enough to trample a house, its mandibles large enough to seize a whole team of horses in their grasp. It looked big enough to reach up and pluck him off his ledge without straining, though at the moment it was closer to the far end of the cavern and turned slightly away. As it shifted he could see something imprinted upon the broad dome of its carapace. Like its comparatively tiny brethren its shell was completely black, but the giant one had a pale marking on its back, a vague design that had the look of a rune or sigil.
Bredan found himself staring intently at that marking. It absorbed him despite the gibbering terror that threatened to seize control of his mind, distracting him from the danger he was in. He stared at it until he began to feel dizzy.
Finally, a scraping noise that sounded much too close shook him from his reverie. He tore his attention from the horror of the giant beetle and the more prosaic threat of the army of “regular” beetles to study his more immediate surroundings.
The ledge was about fifteen feet above the floor of the cavern, but the collapse of the sinkhole had left it surrounded by steep ramps of debris on each side. Beetles were already clambering up those awkward mounds, and while some lost purchase on the loose rocks and dirt, others were managing a slow but constant ascent. Even as he looked around him one crested the ledge, snapping its mandibles until Bredan lashed out blindly and kicked it free. The bug tumbled away and rejoined the mass below, but he could hear several others nearing the ledge.
Bredan scrambled to his feet. He started to reach for his dagger, but hesitated. A few feet away a beetle appeared, stumbling over the loose rocks that covered the rim of the ledge. Another one popped up on the opposite side a moment later, probing with its mandibles.
Bredan reached out his hand and closed his eyes.
The beetles rushed forward to snap at his legs. The first almost had his left boot in its grasp when a shaft of steel drove down, impaling it. As the second insect lunged Bredan pivoted back and slashed his sword across its body, separating its head from its abdomen. He kicked the pieces off the ledge, unbalancing a beetle that had almost gained the summit.
More beetles were already approaching the ledge, but before Bredan could do anything further the cavern shook with a loud noise. At first he thought that the deep, sonorous pulse presaged another collapse, but then he realized it was coming from the giant beetle. As he watched the massive creature turned ponderously toward his redoubt. Then it started toward him, slicing through the mass of beetles like a ship cresting waves on the sea. It was probably killing a bunch of them with each step, but it hardly seemed to care about their fate.
Bredan couldn’t wait for it to get to him. The moment of distraction had allowed half a dozen more beetles to gain the ledge. He slashed out with his sword, darting to avoid the snapping mandibles, but there were too many of them. He felt a stabbing pain as one locked around his ankle, then another as a beetle lunged up and pierced his leg just below the skirt of his hauberk. Roaring in both pain and defiance, he stabbed that one in the head and then spun to try and shake clear the one hanging onto his boot. The beetle managed to hang on, but his wild movements knocked several others clear. But the ledge was only so big, and more of the things kept coming.
“Come on then, you bastards!” he yelled at them.
For the next few moments he focused on swinging his sword while not getting pulled down by the attacking swarm. He was aware that the giant beetle was getting slowly closer, could hear a heavy thud with each step it took, but he couldn’t spare it even a glance. He would have to deal with it when it got to him. For now it was all he could do to stay alive. He darted along the very rim of the ledge, nearly sliding off when the loose rocks gave way, then retreated back against the wall of the cavern, kicking another beetle off as he went. He finally managed to get solid rock at his back, but when he turned around he saw at least a dozen beetles pushing at him, too many to stop.
Suddenly the light from above shifted and faded, deepening the shadows that filled the cavern. Bredan looked up to see someone sliding through the breach before dropping through open air toward him. It was Quellan, the half-orc clinging to a length of rope that rose up through the sinkhole to the surface above. The cleric was unleashing a fresh rockslide as he came, and Bredan quickly shrank back and covered his head as a patter of debris began hitting around him. The beetles were caught by the full force of that deluge, and some collapsed as solid pieces of stone cracked their armored shells. Others were dislodged as they tried to get to Bredan, and tumbled back down off the ledge to the cavern floor below.
The respite was only momentary, but as the surviving beetles thrust forward again the half-orc came to the end of the rope and dropped onto the ledge. He landed awkwardly, but killed another beetle just by landing on it, and snapped a mandible off another as his armored body splayed out. A beetle tried to take advantage by seizing hold of his neck, but before it could strike Bredan stabbed it with his sword. He reached in and helped the half-orc to his feet.
“Nice of you to drop in,” Bredan said as he kicked another beetle clear.
“It sounded like you needed help,” Quellan replied.
Another shadow announced Glori’s arrival. She came down the rope with a bit more deliberation than Quellan, sending down a smaller spray of stone and dirt that hampered the beetles more than the two adventurers below. Within moments she was dropping onto the ledge behind them, drawing her sword as she landed on her feet.
“Hey guys, hope you saved some for me,” she said.
“That won’t be a problem,” Bredan said as he sliced another beetle in two.
“I think… what is THAT?” Quellan said.
Bredan didn’t get a chance to respond before the giant beetle lunged forward, striking the front of the ledge with enough force to shake the stone. For a moment he thought that the impact would tear the entire platform free, but other than shaking loose a fresh cascade of loose rocks it held. The giant beetle thrust forward again, looming over them for a moment like some massive slab before descending to crush them all.
Bredan returned to awareness with a rush of pain and the taste of blood in his mouth. He was lying on a hard, flat surface, though he could feel jagged bits of stone pressing into his skin. Loose rocks skittered away as he got his hands under him and pushed his head up slowly she he could look around.
He was lying on a ledge that overlooked a huge cavern. A thin sliver of light drifted down from above and behind him. Seeing it brought back memory of what had happened. They’d been fighting beetles in the mines, then the supply hut had exploded, and then the sinkhole had opened under him. He must have hit his head and blacked out.
He had no idea how long he’d been here. There was a persistent buzzing in his head, which he’d assumed was a byproduct of the fall, but as his thoughts grew clearer he felt a dawning suspicion that had him creeping forward slowly to the edge of the ledge.
What he saw sent a thrill of icy cold feeling through his gut.
The floor of the cavern was alive with movement, hundreds of the black beetles crawling on and around and over each other. But that wasn’t what froze him, what pushed him to the edge of irrational terror.
The beetle was huge, easily big enough to trample a house, its mandibles large enough to seize a whole team of horses in their grasp. It looked big enough to reach up and pluck him off his ledge without straining, though at the moment it was closer to the far end of the cavern and turned slightly away. As it shifted he could see something imprinted upon the broad dome of its carapace. Like its comparatively tiny brethren its shell was completely black, but the giant one had a pale marking on its back, a vague design that had the look of a rune or sigil.
Bredan found himself staring intently at that marking. It absorbed him despite the gibbering terror that threatened to seize control of his mind, distracting him from the danger he was in. He stared at it until he began to feel dizzy.
Finally, a scraping noise that sounded much too close shook him from his reverie. He tore his attention from the horror of the giant beetle and the more prosaic threat of the army of “regular” beetles to study his more immediate surroundings.
The ledge was about fifteen feet above the floor of the cavern, but the collapse of the sinkhole had left it surrounded by steep ramps of debris on each side. Beetles were already clambering up those awkward mounds, and while some lost purchase on the loose rocks and dirt, others were managing a slow but constant ascent. Even as he looked around him one crested the ledge, snapping its mandibles until Bredan lashed out blindly and kicked it free. The bug tumbled away and rejoined the mass below, but he could hear several others nearing the ledge.
Bredan scrambled to his feet. He started to reach for his dagger, but hesitated. A few feet away a beetle appeared, stumbling over the loose rocks that covered the rim of the ledge. Another one popped up on the opposite side a moment later, probing with its mandibles.
Bredan reached out his hand and closed his eyes.
The beetles rushed forward to snap at his legs. The first almost had his left boot in its grasp when a shaft of steel drove down, impaling it. As the second insect lunged Bredan pivoted back and slashed his sword across its body, separating its head from its abdomen. He kicked the pieces off the ledge, unbalancing a beetle that had almost gained the summit.
More beetles were already approaching the ledge, but before Bredan could do anything further the cavern shook with a loud noise. At first he thought that the deep, sonorous pulse presaged another collapse, but then he realized it was coming from the giant beetle. As he watched the massive creature turned ponderously toward his redoubt. Then it started toward him, slicing through the mass of beetles like a ship cresting waves on the sea. It was probably killing a bunch of them with each step, but it hardly seemed to care about their fate.
Bredan couldn’t wait for it to get to him. The moment of distraction had allowed half a dozen more beetles to gain the ledge. He slashed out with his sword, darting to avoid the snapping mandibles, but there were too many of them. He felt a stabbing pain as one locked around his ankle, then another as a beetle lunged up and pierced his leg just below the skirt of his hauberk. Roaring in both pain and defiance, he stabbed that one in the head and then spun to try and shake clear the one hanging onto his boot. The beetle managed to hang on, but his wild movements knocked several others clear. But the ledge was only so big, and more of the things kept coming.
“Come on then, you bastards!” he yelled at them.
For the next few moments he focused on swinging his sword while not getting pulled down by the attacking swarm. He was aware that the giant beetle was getting slowly closer, could hear a heavy thud with each step it took, but he couldn’t spare it even a glance. He would have to deal with it when it got to him. For now it was all he could do to stay alive. He darted along the very rim of the ledge, nearly sliding off when the loose rocks gave way, then retreated back against the wall of the cavern, kicking another beetle off as he went. He finally managed to get solid rock at his back, but when he turned around he saw at least a dozen beetles pushing at him, too many to stop.
Suddenly the light from above shifted and faded, deepening the shadows that filled the cavern. Bredan looked up to see someone sliding through the breach before dropping through open air toward him. It was Quellan, the half-orc clinging to a length of rope that rose up through the sinkhole to the surface above. The cleric was unleashing a fresh rockslide as he came, and Bredan quickly shrank back and covered his head as a patter of debris began hitting around him. The beetles were caught by the full force of that deluge, and some collapsed as solid pieces of stone cracked their armored shells. Others were dislodged as they tried to get to Bredan, and tumbled back down off the ledge to the cavern floor below.
The respite was only momentary, but as the surviving beetles thrust forward again the half-orc came to the end of the rope and dropped onto the ledge. He landed awkwardly, but killed another beetle just by landing on it, and snapped a mandible off another as his armored body splayed out. A beetle tried to take advantage by seizing hold of his neck, but before it could strike Bredan stabbed it with his sword. He reached in and helped the half-orc to his feet.
“Nice of you to drop in,” Bredan said as he kicked another beetle clear.
“It sounded like you needed help,” Quellan replied.
Another shadow announced Glori’s arrival. She came down the rope with a bit more deliberation than Quellan, sending down a smaller spray of stone and dirt that hampered the beetles more than the two adventurers below. Within moments she was dropping onto the ledge behind them, drawing her sword as she landed on her feet.
“Hey guys, hope you saved some for me,” she said.
“That won’t be a problem,” Bredan said as he sliced another beetle in two.
“I think… what is THAT?” Quellan said.
Bredan didn’t get a chance to respond before the giant beetle lunged forward, striking the front of the ledge with enough force to shake the stone. For a moment he thought that the impact would tear the entire platform free, but other than shaking loose a fresh cascade of loose rocks it held. The giant beetle thrust forward again, looming over them for a moment like some massive slab before descending to crush them all.
Lazybones
Adventurer
Chapter 112
Bredan didn’t think, he just acted.
As his hand came up he drew from somewhere deep inside himself and pushed. The magical shield that appeared was smaller than the wooden ones that his uncle had forced him to train on, even after he’d decided to focus on two-handed weapons. Against the bulk and mass of the creature it was nothing, certainly not enough to stop it.
But as the giant beetle’s head slammed down, the shield stopped it… and held it.
Bredan didn’t hesitate. He shifted his stance the way he’d trained, using all of the muscles of his body to drive his sword into the creature’s body. He’d expected resistance, expected to be rebuffed by its armored shell, but the blade slid into the gap between its head and abdomen as though it was meant to be there. He buried the sword to the crossguard, and as the beetle reared back the entire weapon vanished into the interior of its body.
Bredan staggered back as the shield dissipated, but the giant beetle was no longer interested in attack. As the head jerked to the side Quellan caught it a glancing blow that cracked one of the huge mandibles, but before any of them could follow up the creature flung itself wildly back across the cavern, crushing another score of its tiny fellows in the process.
For a moment Bredan could only stare after it, but then renewed skittering noises warned that the smaller beetles had not fully given up their push. Glori noted the same thing, shouting, “We’d better get out of here!” She still had a grip on the end of the rope, and gave it a solid tug to verify that it was still attached to whatever anchor held it above.
“Go!” Quellan said, taking up a position to cover her retreat. The cavern shook with the angry gyrations of the injured colossus, and Bredan looked at the uncertain ceiling with worry. Quellan smashed another small beetle as it approached the top of the ledge, but the giant beetle’s aborted attack had knocked most of them back to the bottom of the rock ramp, forcing them to repeat the difficult climb. But most of them were rushing about in random directions, either confused by the chaos created by the larger monster or simply looking for someplace quiet to hide.
“Kosk?” Bredan asked as he moved back next to Quellan to guard the rope. He’d drawn his dagger, but did not look too concerned about the loss of his sword.
“He’s okay,” Quellan said. “There was an ambush, we came under attack from hidden archers right after the supply hut exploded.”
“Then this whole thing was a trap,” Bredan said. He skewered a beetle with his dagger and kicked it off the edge.
“It would appear so,” Quellan said.
Both men glanced up as Glori shimmied through the opening above, dislodging a fresh shower of small rocks. “You’re next,” Quellan said.
“I should—” Bredan began, but Quellan grabbed him and pushed him toward the rope, infusing him with the healing power of a cure wounds spell as he did so. “You know me better than that,” the cleric said. “Besides, I’ll need you to help pull me up.”
“Hold on then,” Bredan said, clapping him on the shoulder before he tucked his dagger away and started up. With his upper-body strength the climb was easy at first especially when he had the wall of the cavern to brace against. Getting up to the hole in the cavern ceiling was a bit more difficult, especially as he began to feel the effects of the battering his body had taken, but with a few fierce grunts of effort he reached the top and pulled himself over the lip of the sinkhole. The ground remained uncertain, forcing him to keep hold of the rope as he pulled himself up the last bit to solid ground, but he quickly reached safety and then turned back to help Quellan. He looked around to see if the archers the cleric had mentioned were still a threat, but no arrows came his way. Glori had taken cover behind the same pile of boulders where they’d anchored the rope, but she came out to help Bredan pull the half-orc up.
Even with that help, lifting Quellan’s weight was harder than pulling himself up, and Bredan’s arms were burning by the time that the priest’s arms appeared in the hole. Careful of the uncertain edges of the sinkhole, Glori leaned in to give him a hand up the least few steps, as Bredan slumped over, propping his hands on his knees to keep himself upright.
“We have to help Kosk,” Quellan said immediately.
“I think… he’s okay,” Bredan said, pointing.
Quellan and Glori turned to see the dwarf approaching through the heap of tailings on the edge of the camp. It didn’t look like he’d picked up any fresh wounds, but he looked no less furious for that.
“Everything okay?” Quellan asked as he approached.
“The bastards fled,” Kosk reported. “That probably had something to do with it.” He pointed toward where the road emerged from the forest, and they could see a large party approaching through the trees. There looked to be at least a dozen men accompanying a large cart pulled by a draft horse and laden with barrels.
“Looks like Rodan found help,” Glori said, recognizing the ranger among the new arrivals.
“Fortuitous timing,” Quellan said.
“Yeah,” Kosk said. He was holding something that he turned over in his hands. It was a crossbow bolt, likely one of the ones that had been shot at them during the ambush. The ground around the camp was peppered with them, along with at least a dozen arrows.
Glori turned to Bredan. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” he said. “Quellan healed me.”
“What about your sword?”
Bredan forced himself upright. He held out his hand and closed his eyes. This time he was not surprised when he felt the familiar weight of his father’s weapon in his hand. It felt clean, with none of the slickness of the beetle’s blood marring the grip. It felt… right.
He opened his eyes to find all of the others looking at him. “Looks like we’ll have something to talk about on the way back to town,” Quellan said.
“First we need to burn those bastards out,” Kosk said. He tucked the bolt into his belt and then started toward the road to greet the company from Wildrush.
Bredan didn’t think, he just acted.
As his hand came up he drew from somewhere deep inside himself and pushed. The magical shield that appeared was smaller than the wooden ones that his uncle had forced him to train on, even after he’d decided to focus on two-handed weapons. Against the bulk and mass of the creature it was nothing, certainly not enough to stop it.
But as the giant beetle’s head slammed down, the shield stopped it… and held it.
Bredan didn’t hesitate. He shifted his stance the way he’d trained, using all of the muscles of his body to drive his sword into the creature’s body. He’d expected resistance, expected to be rebuffed by its armored shell, but the blade slid into the gap between its head and abdomen as though it was meant to be there. He buried the sword to the crossguard, and as the beetle reared back the entire weapon vanished into the interior of its body.
Bredan staggered back as the shield dissipated, but the giant beetle was no longer interested in attack. As the head jerked to the side Quellan caught it a glancing blow that cracked one of the huge mandibles, but before any of them could follow up the creature flung itself wildly back across the cavern, crushing another score of its tiny fellows in the process.
For a moment Bredan could only stare after it, but then renewed skittering noises warned that the smaller beetles had not fully given up their push. Glori noted the same thing, shouting, “We’d better get out of here!” She still had a grip on the end of the rope, and gave it a solid tug to verify that it was still attached to whatever anchor held it above.
“Go!” Quellan said, taking up a position to cover her retreat. The cavern shook with the angry gyrations of the injured colossus, and Bredan looked at the uncertain ceiling with worry. Quellan smashed another small beetle as it approached the top of the ledge, but the giant beetle’s aborted attack had knocked most of them back to the bottom of the rock ramp, forcing them to repeat the difficult climb. But most of them were rushing about in random directions, either confused by the chaos created by the larger monster or simply looking for someplace quiet to hide.
“Kosk?” Bredan asked as he moved back next to Quellan to guard the rope. He’d drawn his dagger, but did not look too concerned about the loss of his sword.
“He’s okay,” Quellan said. “There was an ambush, we came under attack from hidden archers right after the supply hut exploded.”
“Then this whole thing was a trap,” Bredan said. He skewered a beetle with his dagger and kicked it off the edge.
“It would appear so,” Quellan said.
Both men glanced up as Glori shimmied through the opening above, dislodging a fresh shower of small rocks. “You’re next,” Quellan said.
“I should—” Bredan began, but Quellan grabbed him and pushed him toward the rope, infusing him with the healing power of a cure wounds spell as he did so. “You know me better than that,” the cleric said. “Besides, I’ll need you to help pull me up.”
“Hold on then,” Bredan said, clapping him on the shoulder before he tucked his dagger away and started up. With his upper-body strength the climb was easy at first especially when he had the wall of the cavern to brace against. Getting up to the hole in the cavern ceiling was a bit more difficult, especially as he began to feel the effects of the battering his body had taken, but with a few fierce grunts of effort he reached the top and pulled himself over the lip of the sinkhole. The ground remained uncertain, forcing him to keep hold of the rope as he pulled himself up the last bit to solid ground, but he quickly reached safety and then turned back to help Quellan. He looked around to see if the archers the cleric had mentioned were still a threat, but no arrows came his way. Glori had taken cover behind the same pile of boulders where they’d anchored the rope, but she came out to help Bredan pull the half-orc up.
Even with that help, lifting Quellan’s weight was harder than pulling himself up, and Bredan’s arms were burning by the time that the priest’s arms appeared in the hole. Careful of the uncertain edges of the sinkhole, Glori leaned in to give him a hand up the least few steps, as Bredan slumped over, propping his hands on his knees to keep himself upright.
“We have to help Kosk,” Quellan said immediately.
“I think… he’s okay,” Bredan said, pointing.
Quellan and Glori turned to see the dwarf approaching through the heap of tailings on the edge of the camp. It didn’t look like he’d picked up any fresh wounds, but he looked no less furious for that.
“Everything okay?” Quellan asked as he approached.
“The bastards fled,” Kosk reported. “That probably had something to do with it.” He pointed toward where the road emerged from the forest, and they could see a large party approaching through the trees. There looked to be at least a dozen men accompanying a large cart pulled by a draft horse and laden with barrels.
“Looks like Rodan found help,” Glori said, recognizing the ranger among the new arrivals.
“Fortuitous timing,” Quellan said.
“Yeah,” Kosk said. He was holding something that he turned over in his hands. It was a crossbow bolt, likely one of the ones that had been shot at them during the ambush. The ground around the camp was peppered with them, along with at least a dozen arrows.
Glori turned to Bredan. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” he said. “Quellan healed me.”
“What about your sword?”
Bredan forced himself upright. He held out his hand and closed his eyes. This time he was not surprised when he felt the familiar weight of his father’s weapon in his hand. It felt clean, with none of the slickness of the beetle’s blood marring the grip. It felt… right.
He opened his eyes to find all of the others looking at him. “Looks like we’ll have something to talk about on the way back to town,” Quellan said.
“First we need to burn those bastards out,” Kosk said. He tucked the bolt into his belt and then started toward the road to greet the company from Wildrush.
Lazybones
Adventurer
Chapter 113
Kurok had the talent of transitioning instantly from sleep to full alertness—it was a skill that came in quite handy growing up in a goblinoid tribe—but when he woke he felt groggy and slow. But he quickly drew himself up out of his bedroll and looked around.
The sun had set, but it was not yet full night. He did not feel rested, but he could feel the power of the Veiled One as it burned once more in his blood. That was all that mattered; physical discomfort could be tolerated.
The camp was fairly quiet. Some of the more seriously wounded of the Bloodriders were still asleep, their mounts—if they had survived—curled up next to them. Usk was not immediately visible but that was not unusual; the goblin leader often went out with his scouts.
Kurok drank from his waterskin and went over to one of the scouts on duty. “What is the situation?”
“No enemies have shown themselves, Great One,” the goblin said. “The black elf has passed the outer sentries and approaches the camp.”
Kurok shot the creature a hard look—they should have woken him immediately as soon as Vederos was detected—but he didn’t make an issue of it. He had known that the incident at the shrine would have weakened his hold over the Bloodriders; lashing out now would only further complicate the situation. It was likely he would have to reassert himself, but it would be in a manner that was calculated, not born of blind rage. That was what set his kind apart from the lesser examples of his race.
He walked along the rocky shelf that formed the perimeter of their camp, using the move as an excuse to stretch his tired muscles. He had recovered from most of the ill effects of his clash with the perytons that morning, and Vedaros was nominally an ally, but he had long since learned the lesson of being prepared.
When he had circled back around to the slope that led down to the forest he could see the dark elf approaching. This time Vederos had left his cloak open, though the shifting colors as the magical garment tried to blend in with his changing surroundings was disorienting to look at for any length of time.
The warlock waited as the drow sorcerer slowly approached. The dark elf also looked tired; appropriate given that he would have had to have traveled almost constantly to have made it to the north valley and back since their last encounter. His boots were muddy, a detail that stuck out for some reason in Kurok’s tired mind. The hobgoblin quickly ordered his thoughts; he could not afford to be off his best for the coming confrontation.
Vederos nodded to Kurok but took a long look around the camp before he turned to face his superior. “You have had some trouble?”
“What do you have to report?” Kurok asked.
“I made contact with our resource in the town. Quietly, as directed; none other than he noted my visit.” That you know of, Kurok added mentally, but he did not comment. “The company of adventurers from Adelar has slain the chimera,” the sorcerer continued. “Their numbers include both an arcanist bard and a cleric of Hosrenu, in addition to several apparently talented warriors.”
“We already knew they were skilled from the way they drubbed your giants,” Kurok said. “What else?”
Vederos’s lips tightened at being interrupted, but he inclined his head and went on,” “They were on their way back from dealing with the creature when they were diverted by a group of miners. Apparently the last working mine had become infested with giant beetles. After burning out the beetles they returned to Wildrush. There have been no indications that anyone in the valley knows of your presence here, or anything of our objective. My own careful queries of our resource indicated no knowledge of anything in this part of the valley. Even during the last silver rush hardly anyone bothered to come this far, as there have never been any metal discoveries of any note beyond the northern half.”
Kurok continued staring at Vederos as the dark elf finished his report. “There is something else that you are not telling me.”
For a moment the drow met that stare calmly, then he finally glanced away. “I took action to hinder the enemy, as you directed. I drew upon some local recruits provided by our contact in the town. I had planned to ambush our adversaries on their return from their clash with the chimera, expecting that they would be weakened, but when they turned aside to clear the mine I took advantage of that distraction.”
“From your hesitation to share this information, I take it the encounter did not go as planned.”
“As I said, it was an attack of opportunity. Quite creative, actually, I was able to…”
“How many of the adventurers were killed in the ambush?” Kurok interrupted.
“Ah… none,” Vederos said. “Unexpected reinforcements forced me to withdraw before the adventurers were dealt with. But several of them were seriously injured.”
Kurok didn’t even bother to acknowledge that; he already knew that the new arrivals had a priest within their ranks. “And your ‘local recruits’?” he asked.
“They proved less effective than expected, though I do not believe any of them were captured.”
“You ‘do not believe.’”
“None of them saw my face, or know who I am,” Vederos said.
“But they know who our contact in the town is,” Kurok said.
“I was only implementing your commands,” Vederos said. “It seems I was not the only one to have had difficulty recently.”
“What happened here is not your concern.”
“Is it not? Am I to be criticized for my failure, when you have suffered a significant defeat, even with the strong force you command, and the supposedly great powers of the Veiled One at your beck and call? Perhaps you should have gone north to deal with the outsiders, and left me to seek out the prize.” The drow worked himself into a righteous anger as he spoke, but as he finished the last words he seemed to sense that he might have gone too far. “It seems to me we should focus on our mission, instead of squabbling amongst ourselves. I have some ideas…”
He cut off as Kurok raised a hand. The warlock allowed the silence to stretch out for a long moment before he said, “Do you challenge my leadership?”
His words carried, and while there was no obvious motion amongst the goblins, it was clear that they were following the exchange closely. Even the ones that had been asleep moments earlier were awake now, watching the meeting along with their worgs, the eyes of the latter seeming to glow in the deepening twilight.
“I am not so much of a fool to be torn apart by your minions,” Vederos said softly.
Kurok raised his other hand, pointing at his surviving troops. “I invoke Bok’tarok!” he said. “None shall interfere!”
He doubted any of the goblins would lift a finger to support him right then in any case, but he saw that the dramatic gesture had an effect on Vederos. For a moment the drow let his feelings flash in his eyes, but then he quickly lowered them. “I defer to your leadership, Blooded,” he said. “I await your commands.”
A soft rumble from one of the worgs drew Kurok’s attention toward the forest, where a pair of worg riders was just coming into view. It was too far to see clearly, but it looked like one of them was Usk.
“We have an obstacle that must be overcome,” Kurok said, turning toward the approaching riders.
As soon as his back was turned, Vederos summoned a small ball of shimmering energy in his right hand and hurled it at the warlock.
Kurok had the talent of transitioning instantly from sleep to full alertness—it was a skill that came in quite handy growing up in a goblinoid tribe—but when he woke he felt groggy and slow. But he quickly drew himself up out of his bedroll and looked around.
The sun had set, but it was not yet full night. He did not feel rested, but he could feel the power of the Veiled One as it burned once more in his blood. That was all that mattered; physical discomfort could be tolerated.
The camp was fairly quiet. Some of the more seriously wounded of the Bloodriders were still asleep, their mounts—if they had survived—curled up next to them. Usk was not immediately visible but that was not unusual; the goblin leader often went out with his scouts.
Kurok drank from his waterskin and went over to one of the scouts on duty. “What is the situation?”
“No enemies have shown themselves, Great One,” the goblin said. “The black elf has passed the outer sentries and approaches the camp.”
Kurok shot the creature a hard look—they should have woken him immediately as soon as Vederos was detected—but he didn’t make an issue of it. He had known that the incident at the shrine would have weakened his hold over the Bloodriders; lashing out now would only further complicate the situation. It was likely he would have to reassert himself, but it would be in a manner that was calculated, not born of blind rage. That was what set his kind apart from the lesser examples of his race.
He walked along the rocky shelf that formed the perimeter of their camp, using the move as an excuse to stretch his tired muscles. He had recovered from most of the ill effects of his clash with the perytons that morning, and Vedaros was nominally an ally, but he had long since learned the lesson of being prepared.
When he had circled back around to the slope that led down to the forest he could see the dark elf approaching. This time Vederos had left his cloak open, though the shifting colors as the magical garment tried to blend in with his changing surroundings was disorienting to look at for any length of time.
The warlock waited as the drow sorcerer slowly approached. The dark elf also looked tired; appropriate given that he would have had to have traveled almost constantly to have made it to the north valley and back since their last encounter. His boots were muddy, a detail that stuck out for some reason in Kurok’s tired mind. The hobgoblin quickly ordered his thoughts; he could not afford to be off his best for the coming confrontation.
Vederos nodded to Kurok but took a long look around the camp before he turned to face his superior. “You have had some trouble?”
“What do you have to report?” Kurok asked.
“I made contact with our resource in the town. Quietly, as directed; none other than he noted my visit.” That you know of, Kurok added mentally, but he did not comment. “The company of adventurers from Adelar has slain the chimera,” the sorcerer continued. “Their numbers include both an arcanist bard and a cleric of Hosrenu, in addition to several apparently talented warriors.”
“We already knew they were skilled from the way they drubbed your giants,” Kurok said. “What else?”
Vederos’s lips tightened at being interrupted, but he inclined his head and went on,” “They were on their way back from dealing with the creature when they were diverted by a group of miners. Apparently the last working mine had become infested with giant beetles. After burning out the beetles they returned to Wildrush. There have been no indications that anyone in the valley knows of your presence here, or anything of our objective. My own careful queries of our resource indicated no knowledge of anything in this part of the valley. Even during the last silver rush hardly anyone bothered to come this far, as there have never been any metal discoveries of any note beyond the northern half.”
Kurok continued staring at Vederos as the dark elf finished his report. “There is something else that you are not telling me.”
For a moment the drow met that stare calmly, then he finally glanced away. “I took action to hinder the enemy, as you directed. I drew upon some local recruits provided by our contact in the town. I had planned to ambush our adversaries on their return from their clash with the chimera, expecting that they would be weakened, but when they turned aside to clear the mine I took advantage of that distraction.”
“From your hesitation to share this information, I take it the encounter did not go as planned.”
“As I said, it was an attack of opportunity. Quite creative, actually, I was able to…”
“How many of the adventurers were killed in the ambush?” Kurok interrupted.
“Ah… none,” Vederos said. “Unexpected reinforcements forced me to withdraw before the adventurers were dealt with. But several of them were seriously injured.”
Kurok didn’t even bother to acknowledge that; he already knew that the new arrivals had a priest within their ranks. “And your ‘local recruits’?” he asked.
“They proved less effective than expected, though I do not believe any of them were captured.”
“You ‘do not believe.’”
“None of them saw my face, or know who I am,” Vederos said.
“But they know who our contact in the town is,” Kurok said.
“I was only implementing your commands,” Vederos said. “It seems I was not the only one to have had difficulty recently.”
“What happened here is not your concern.”
“Is it not? Am I to be criticized for my failure, when you have suffered a significant defeat, even with the strong force you command, and the supposedly great powers of the Veiled One at your beck and call? Perhaps you should have gone north to deal with the outsiders, and left me to seek out the prize.” The drow worked himself into a righteous anger as he spoke, but as he finished the last words he seemed to sense that he might have gone too far. “It seems to me we should focus on our mission, instead of squabbling amongst ourselves. I have some ideas…”
He cut off as Kurok raised a hand. The warlock allowed the silence to stretch out for a long moment before he said, “Do you challenge my leadership?”
His words carried, and while there was no obvious motion amongst the goblins, it was clear that they were following the exchange closely. Even the ones that had been asleep moments earlier were awake now, watching the meeting along with their worgs, the eyes of the latter seeming to glow in the deepening twilight.
“I am not so much of a fool to be torn apart by your minions,” Vederos said softly.
Kurok raised his other hand, pointing at his surviving troops. “I invoke Bok’tarok!” he said. “None shall interfere!”
He doubted any of the goblins would lift a finger to support him right then in any case, but he saw that the dramatic gesture had an effect on Vederos. For a moment the drow let his feelings flash in his eyes, but then he quickly lowered them. “I defer to your leadership, Blooded,” he said. “I await your commands.”
A soft rumble from one of the worgs drew Kurok’s attention toward the forest, where a pair of worg riders was just coming into view. It was too far to see clearly, but it looked like one of them was Usk.
“We have an obstacle that must be overcome,” Kurok said, turning toward the approaching riders.
As soon as his back was turned, Vederos summoned a small ball of shimmering energy in his right hand and hurled it at the warlock.
carborundum
Adventurer
No way!
Lazybones
Adventurer
Way!
* * *
Chapter 114
As Kurok turned away from Vederos he drank the contents of the vial he had palmed earlier, using his body to conceal the motion.
The sorcerer’s chromatic orb slammed into him from behind an instant later. An electrical pulse shot through his body, causing him to drop the empty vial as his muscles spasmed. Kurok staggered forward a step, but he kept himself from tumbling down the rocky slope that descended to the edge of the woods.
Recovering quickly, he turned his head and fixed his attacker with eyes that glowed with power.
Flames erupted around the drow, who quickly evoked a misty step and transported himself away.
Kurok spun around and quickly located his foe, who’d materialized about twenty feet further up the slope. Vederos looked only a bit singed from his hellish rebuke, but it was clear that he’d been taken a bit aback by the fury of Kurok’s response to his ambush. For a moment doubt flashed in his mind; he’d poured all of the arcane power he could muster into that orb. But the dark elf recovered some of his confidence as the warlock hurled a pair of eldritch blasts at him, both of which he was able to dodge.
“Too slow, old man!” the dark elf hissed, before countering with another powerful spell. This one he formed from raw sonic energy, focusing it into a blast that struck Kurok with an explosion of thunderous sound. The goblins and their beasts flinched back, the former reaching up to cover their ears. All of them were standing now, intent upon the duel taking place in front of them.
For a moment dust and bits of debris, stirred up by the concussive impact of the shatter spell, swirled around Kurok. But when they dissipated the warlock remained standing. Blood trickled from his nostrils, but bright flames blazing in his eyes.
Vederos, seeing what was coming, tried to evade, but this time was nowhere he could go to escape the warlock’s hellish rebuke. The drow staggered back as the unholy flames enveloped him, searing his flesh and pulling a scream from his throat. For a moment all he could see was that fire, but when it finally faded he turned and drew once more upon his magic. Thus far Kurok had absorbed everything he’d thrown at him, but the hobgoblin was only mortal; there was only so much damage even he could take. He ignored a voice that whispered, He is Blooded in the back of his mind as he began conjuring another chromatic orb.
But when he turned around he was surprised to see Kurok standing only a few paces in front of him. The warlock’s hand was already stretched out toward him, and Vederos’s eyes widened in horror as he saw wisps of something floating in the air between them.
The drow tried to finish his spell, to unleash his orb before the hobgoblin’s spell could reach him. But even he felt the magic coalesce between his fingertips a fresh searing erupted, this time in his throat. He gasped as he felt tongues of fire plunge into his lungs. His spell evaporated as pain overwhelmed all other sensations. He thought that maybe he was falling, but he could not be sure; all he could feel was the pain.
But then something pierced that agony and drew him back to reality for a moment. It was Kurok, his face right in front of his. The hobgoblin’s hands were locked around his throat, keeping him upright. Vederos tried to speak, but his abused lungs could not produce any air. All he could do was stare into his adversary’s dark eyes, which seemed to swell until they eclipsed even the pain, until there was nothing else… nothing…
* * *
Kurok tried not to stumble as he released Vederos. The dead husk of the sorcerer fell in a limp heap on the ground.
Usk and his other Bloodrider slowed as they trotted up the last bit of the rise and stopped on the edge of the stone shelf. The goblin leader did not seem that surprised to see the drow lying dead on the ground, but his eyes did widen when they traveled to the rear of the camp, to the niche that led to their sheltered sleeping quarters. For the veteran goblin, betraying even that much reaction was equal to startled amazement from anyone else, so when Kurok turned around he was ready for anything from another flock of perytons to a sudden avalanche.
What he saw took him by surprise as well.
A man stepped forward. He was an elf, one of the surface kind from the look of him, his features thin and angular. Somehow he’d managed to get into the rear of their camp without detection; the only way in through there was by descending a hundred feet of sheer cliffs. He carried no weapons, and wore only a light silk tunic over tight trousers tucked into calf-high boots of soft leather.
The goblins and their worgs in the camp were the last to notice the intruder. The goblins jumped in surprise as the elf strode through their midst, apparently unconcerned, but more disconcerting was the reaction from the worgs. The ferocious beasts all drew back, whimpering, lowering their heads to the stone in a gesture of submission.
It was that reaction that finally told Kurok what was happening here.
“Stand down,” he ordered the goblins, just in case one of them was going to do something stupid. Then he went over to where the elf was waiting for him, a slight smirk on his face. The warlock kept going a few paces more to put some distance between them and the goblins. After leaving him waiting a moment, the elf finally moved to join him.
“That form is…inappropriate,” the warlock said.
The elf laughed, a deep, musical sound that made Kurok want to smile despite himself. But he said, “As you wish.” His features blurred and shifted, swelling until a tall and powerful hobgoblin warrior faced him. “Better?”
“A pity you did not choose to arrive a few minutes earlier,” Kurok said.
The other laughed again. “But then, how would I have known who was the stronger?”
“That is all you care about? What about the mission?”
“You, more than anyone, perhaps, should know that the two cannot always be separated. That,” he said, gesturing desultorily toward the remains of the drow, “is not the greatest threat you will face before this is done.”
“I agree that Vederos would have likely have had to be dealt with at some point, but his help would have been useful against the guardian of the shrine. Unless you have come to offer your aid in that endeavor?”
The warrior held up a finger and shook it at him, an incongruous gesture given his current appearance. “You know that is not how this works,” he said.
“Naturally,” Kurok growled.
“The master that we both serve has full faith in your ingenuity, Blooded Kurok. Assuming that you are able to continue? This… encounter… has not taken too much from you?”
“I am fine,” Kurok said.
“Yes. I did notice that you used the gift of the Veiled One to draw the life from your adversary. And you have these… fine warriors to assist you in your quest.”
“Was there any other purpose to your visit, emissary?” Kurok asked.
“Just to provide a warning. There are others in the Silverpeak Valley who may be a threat to your recovery of what waits in the shrine. And a power is working against us to guide them to it.”
“Can you be more specific?”
“Not at this time.”
“Then you have told me nothing that I do not already know. What good are you to me, then?”
“Careful, my friend. I do find you amusing, quite amusing, but do not presume to think that you and I are equals.”
Kurok leaned in and lowered his voice even further. “I am only trying to complete the mandate that was given to me. I do not question those orders, but it will do our master no good if I fail. And at the moment, that seems to be a quite likely possibility, even apart from these other agents you referenced.”
The warrior smiled again. “You must have faith, Kurok. There are few things in life that cannot be resolved with the proper application of force.”
Without warning he reached out and placed his fingertips on Kurok’s chest. The warlock sucked in a startled breath as a jolt of icy chill penetrated him down to his bones. His knees nearly buckled as bright flashes of expanding awareness exploded in his mind, and for a moment he lost track of where he was, even who he was.
After what felt like hours but could only have been a moment or two, his senses rushed back to normal. He let out a breath and was surprised to see it fog in the air.
“What…” he said.
“The Hunger of Hadar is a rare gift, granted only to the strongest of those who follow the Veiled One,” the warrior said. “I suggest that you put it to wise use.”
With a final chuckle he turned and walked away, back toward the sheltered niche that held their camp. Still recovering from what had been done to him, Kurok could only stand there and watch him go. He waited until the warrior was out of sight, vanishing into the dark cleft in the rock face. Somehow he knew that if he followed him in there, he would find the interior deserted.
He reached up and rubbed at the spots where those fingers had rested; he could still feel the chill in his skin. Then he turned and walked over to where Usk was waiting. From the looks on the faces of the goblins, at least this visit would help to solve his morale problem.
“Send your scouting parties north,” Kurok commanded. “Stay away from any of the human settlements, but I want to know if any of them head into this part of the valley. Tell your other warriors and their worgs to get what rest they can. We will remain here for one more day, and then pay another visit to the shrine.”
“It shall be as you command, Blooded,” the goblin leader said.
