Turn 24. “It’s nearly thirty feet straight down.”
The Sinister Secret of Whiterock
The chamber ahead has a strange gloom, giving the walls and floor a feint violet tint. Harvested mushrooms litter the floor, more examples of the glowing fungi grow all around the chamber, the air is thick with the smell of smoke, a small fire spits and burns in one corner.
The floor is soft underfoot, the mutated Gnomes seem unable to distinguish between the lavatory and the living room, the floor's sticky, and stinky.
“Urgghh. People live in this.” Twiglet is offended.
“Gnomes.” Cestdoe mutters.
And gets a look that could melt stone from Gina, Cestode notices.
“What- you saw them, they were Gnomes.” The Paladin of Moradin shrugs, certainty does that to a Dwarf.
“Search.” Grungarak states.
“Do we have too?” Twiglet asks.
Gina and Fandango have already started.
Five minutes later they’ve collected a bunch of stuff, some coins, a few semi-precious stones and a hollow bone which turns out to have a scroll inside it- divine spells, including one very powerful healing spell. Gina shoves the find away for later use.
They head on, but only a little way as the passage suddenly opens out into a much larger cavern, actually the much larger cavern is the one they encountered earlier, they’re at the bottom- nearly.
Cestode and Gina peer over the edge of the platform, through the murky darkness, they can make out a small island in the centre of a lake. Amid tall, pale mushrooms and quick, darting creatures, more of the suckered Gnomes, stands an enormous dark crystal, rising 12 feet out of the centre of the isle. The crystal radiates a pale, violet light that seems to pulse and throb inside their skulls.
Past the island, a raging waterfall spills down into the lake, misting the cavern and its occupants with droplets of freezing water, and casting an eerie rainbow over the darkened chamber.
They seem to have arrived in the middle of some sort of ceremony, on the isle a revered hooded figure stalks around the crystal. A pair of the tentacled Gnomes shuffle towards the figure- dragging with them a young child, kicking and screaming all the way- trying desperately to be free.
The hooded figure grabs the struggling child, no doubt one of Farmer Palmer’s brood, and reveals in its other malformed hand a dagger seemingly made of the same stuff as the crystal.
“STOP.” Cestode shouts, “cease this abomination, Moradin demands that you let free the child, and any others that you hold- this is madness, free them- free them now or Moradin’s wrath will know no bounds.”
The robed mutant Gnome clicks and whirrs, some sort of language, at his strange companions, who reach for javelins, ready to launch the weapons at the adventurers.
“I said…” Cestode starts again.
“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaarrrghhhh.”
The last words, rather word of forlorn Pete, the child is dead, from one of the stands of Fungi on the isle more screams are heard, clearly the other kids are down there and have just witnessed the death of their elder brother.
Time for action.
“Moradin defies you, you scoundrels…”
I said action.
It’s nearly thirty feet straight down to the island.
Grungarak jumps, just after Twiglet- the Paladin of Moradin stays rooted to the spot, Gina has her crossbow at the ready, she fires, wounds one of the mutant Gnomes below. Fandango quickly draws her bow and lets loose an arrow- it tears a hole in the robes of the architect of the foul ceremony
CRUNCH
The Half-Orc and the Dwarf land hard, Twiglet hardest of all, his ankle shatters, a bone pokes out through his shin. Grangarak has more spring in his step, or else picks a softer spot, he’s barely injured in the half-leap half-fall.
The robed mutant Gnome points a suckered hand and delivers a series of whirrs and clicks, suddenly the brave adventurers feel weary- magic is at work.
Grungarak stumbles and then regains his feet, rushes forward to put himself between the children and the scurrying mutant Gnomes, two of the creatures bare down upon him, actually bare down may be a misnomer what with the Half-Orc measuring six feet eight and the Gnomes topping the measure at a little over three feet six.
Twiglet is less bothered by the Sleep spell, blinks twice and it’s gone, the problem is he has a limited theatre of operations, what with him having to drag one leg behind, he doesn’t get far- fortunately the enemy find him.
“You scurrilous fiend, a child’s life, all life is sacred, particularly when taken to fuel your dark arts, Moradin will smite you…” Cestode rambles on.
Gina and Fandango fire again, they instantly evens the odds on Grungarak the already wounded tentacled Gnome takes a crossbow bolt to the face and an arrow in the gut, ending its days instantly.
The robed Gnome stands before the giant crystal incants again and is bathed in a bluish light- some sort of protection spell.
Twiglet cuts the creature attacking him near in two, Grungarak removes an arm from the one facing him- the tentacled Gnome flees, holding fast to his stump and flops into the brackish water which surrounds the isle.
Just the robed figure left.
“Get them mighty warriors of Moradin, lay low the foe…” Cestode maintains his vigil, doing nothing of use; he doesn’t even have a missile weapon.
Grungarak rushes on, just in time as the robed figure draws its crystal shard dagger and stabs at the Half-Orc, he dodges aside at the last moment and brings his greataxe around, the blade bites deep into the back of both of the mutant Gnomes legs. The creature falls forward and sprawls on the earth, leaving the lower reaches of its legs, and its feet of course, behind.
It’s dead in seconds, blood spurts from the severed stumps, a brief St. Vitus dance and it’s all over.
There’s a rumbling noise, the sound builds, and builds…