CleverName
Explorer
Adventure 24
Shadow Secrets and Dark Dilemmas
By Copoc Kitzam (David Nickerson)
After my miserable attempts at sailing without Malcolm’s aid I retired to lounge on deck and enjoy the benefits of Gudlaug’s ability to control weather. We had resolved to return to Jormunsteinn and attempt to pluck three hairs from the beard of the dekkalfar king Lodur Hardhand. I was eager to help break the curse on White Dragon (Cezar) because he had aided us tremendously in our past adventures. I felt that he had suffered justly for his crimes but had paid his dues. I remained unclear on dwarven etiquette, but our task was daunting and I imagined that if done improperly it would incite quick, severe, and quite possibly deadly retribution. No matter. I would let Andreas and the dwarves figure it out. I had other matters to contemplate. Kanul Yat Balam seemed pleased by the recent addition to our party of Dain’s priestly powers and Bombaska’s burning rays. Both would serve well on a foray into the ruins of Tikul. I smiled and stretched in my hammock, the golden medallion of Bombaska heavy and warm upon my chest. Our victory was inevitable and soon the Kulkan Empire would regain its former glory. My spirit allies drowsed on deck, enjoying their spirit sun. I searched for Balamob, my steadfast companion for over a year now, but the feisty little croc was no where in sight. Only when I gazed upon the majesty of Gargok the Skyhunter circling above did I recall that I had recently released Balamob in order to acquire a new and more powerful predator ally. I was becoming a formidable shaman indeed! The shadowy form of Dalas Salik seemed to shrink from the sun and I was troubled briefly but turned in my hammock and put it from my mind. The breeze was gentle and the sun warm. My stomachs growled incessantly, but I was content in my basking and too lazy to stir. Ikali Mox the Living Storm could learn a thing or two about weather control from good old Gudlaug!
The druid appeared suddenly before me. I hadn’t noticed his approach.
“There you are Copoc,” he stated in a puzzled fashion. “We’ve been looking for you. Snatching beards is risky business and we have much planning to do.”
Hal was scampering along the support cord of my hammock. He looked plumper than I had remembered and I was pleased to see that he had invited his new friends. A veritable smorgasbord of long-tailed rodents scurried across and underneath my hammock. I grabbed a handful and shoved them into my maw, glancing furtively at Gudlaug. His eyes grew wide. Bringing my claw to my mouth, ostensibly to scratch my lower jaw, I stuffed Hal’s wriggling tail between my teeth.
“COPOC! You murderer!” Gudlaug screamed.
I swallowed and tried to smile convincingly as Gudlaug began shaking and waving his hands wildly. I awoke even as I was engulfed in searing flames. Bombaska’s medallion was burning my chest and I jumped up, shifting its position. I knew that I had summoned a very powerful ally and would have to consider carefully how best to harness his power. Gargok continued to circle above.
I rejoined my companions in time to find Gudlaug asking Cezar for information about King Lodur. Cezar had only brief contact with the king, but revealed to us a quest that had consumed both Lodur and his forebears. It had occurred that the magical regalia of the last dwarven king before the great flood had vanished in the deluge and was never recovered. Lodur’s father had even constructed a submersible stone boat for the sole purpose of locating this lost treasure.
We anchored well off Jormunsteinn to consider this intriguing revelation. Andreas engaged in a legend lore while I researched new ways to contact the mountainous spirit of Jormunsteinn. I had failed twice previously and was determined to immerse myself in the island’s lore. I needed to find a way to attract the attention of such an immense entity and would have to convince it that a partnership would be mutually beneficial. I speculated briefly on the success of other shamen in this endeavor, but soon questioned whether or not it had ever been attempted. After all, I still had not encountered another shaman in my increasing travels and I wondered often if I was not the last.
Meanwhile Dain had prepared a commune with one of the emissaries of Tyr and was ready to begin. We all gathered around in anticipation.
Dain: Will the plucking of Lodur’s beard be allowed as compensation for recovering the lost regalia?
Emissary of Tyr: Yes.
Dain: Is there a traitor in King Lodur’s court aligned with the Three Mothers?
Emissary of Tyr: Yes.
Dain: Will part of Cezar’s curse be lifted if we acquire Lodur’s beard hairs?
Emissary of Tyr: Yes.
Dain: Is this an acceptable course of action?
Emissary of Tyr: If Cezar has learned his lesson.
Dain: Does Volodya plan to usurp control of the Three Mother’s criminal empire?
Emissary of Tyr: Yes.
Dain: Is the lost regalia located on this plane?
Emissary of Tyr: No.
Dain: Is the lost regalia located on the plane of Shadow?
Emissary of Try: Yes.
Dain: Is the lost regalia in the possession of an individual?
Emissary of Tyr: Yes.
Dain: Is the lost regalia within ten miles of our current position?
Emissary of Tyr: Yes.
Dain: Is the lost regalia within two miles of our current position?
Emissary of Tyr: Yes.
Dain: Is Brathor Goldenhand in league with the Three Mothers?
Emissary of Tyr: No.
Dain: Is Brathor Goldenhand being coerced by the Three Mothers?
Emissary of Tyr: No.
Dain: Has Brathor Goldenhand unknowingly aided the Three Mothers?
Emissary of Tyr: Yes.
Dain’s commune answered many question and asked many more, which was not uncommon with these otherworldly types. We reflected upon this as we approached Jormunsteinn, glad to have Dain among us. After docking at the main waterfront we paid five coppers for a berth. Our armor stowed in bags, we soon headed toward the Pheasant where we could find suitable lodgings and also tell Oiin of Gann’s tragic final days. Haradrak was much as we remembered it and we were all pleasantly surprised to find Bacauda purchasing fish at a local market. With a deft swipe of clawed fingers I made sure that the black barbed hook of Dalas Salik was sufficiently concealed. Bacauda was extremely pleased and thrilled to see us and carried on at length about the “spoon spirit” that I had left with her. It is frustrating at times to attempt an intelligent conversation with the spiritblind, but I sense at least that Bacauda is trying. I felt that I could do no less and resolved to continue my study of the Logotheum. I told Bacauda that I was well into the holy tome and would be happy to learn more. We introduced Dain and he inquired as to the location of the nearest temple of Tyr. After answering our inquiries, Bacauda informed us that the Eorl was throwing a birthday party for her brother, Sir Narses. The festivities would commence in three days and she told us to expect an invitation.
As we continued on to the Pheasant we were approached by some dekkalfar prostitutes.
“Fresh off the sea, eh?” they squawked as they prodded and poked at Gudlaug and Dain. The druid promptly dismissed them all I must admit that I agreed with his wise decision. I knew what these dwarves needed! I searched enthusiastically for the kulkan honeys but none appeared to be present.
When we finally reached our destination we were greeted warmly by Oiin. Introductions were made as were arrangements for rooms and a stable. We were quite surprised to learn that Oiin was acquainted with Dain’s grandfather- the apparently legendary “Casket Smasher.”
Beer was the drink of choice until I broke the news of Gann’s death, carefully omitting details concerning his post-ascension demise. Oiin was visibly shaken and procured a bottle of the finest Iconian brandy. We toasted Gann and reminisced, sharing stories of his more memorable exploits. This continued well into the afternoon and was interrupted only when a small stone tablet sailed through an open window and smashed me in the face. I jumped to my feet, snarling and prepared for battle. Dario was on his feet as well, and Andreas warily scanned the inn.
“Look,” Oiin calmly observed, “an invitation.”
“Why so jumpy Copoc?” snickered Gudlaug.
“Yeah,” continued Dain, “we knew this was coming.”
They continued consuming brandy as I studied this “official” invitation. Dwarves are so weird.
I explained to Oiin that we had been invited to Sir Narses birthday party. He seemed impressed, but commented that Sir Narses was kind of “snooty” for his tastes. We sent word to Brathor that we would attend and retired briefly to our rooms. Dain was apparently accustomed to more elegant quarters and seemed a bit reluctant to stay. He spent the rest of his evening purchasing fancy new clothes and visiting the temple of Tyr. Gudlaug suggested that we scout the Shadow Plane the next morning and then left to perform some pressing druidic duties. Andreas and Dario left as well and I soon found myself alone. I decided to use this time to unravel some personal mysteries and determine what, exactly, Dalas Salik expected me to retrieve from the plane of Shadow. I went into a deep trance and summoned the shadowy spirit.
“The time drawsss near Copox,” she whispered seductively. “You mussst complete our bargain and reward my effortsss to protect both you and your compatriotsss.”
“So you know that I will be entering the plane of Shadow?”
“Yessss. Thisss I have foresseen. You mussst retrieve sssomething for me. Yesss and repay my benevolenssse.”
“What is it you would have me obtain?” I questioned. “And where might I locate this object?”
“Objectssss! Objectssss yesss!! You mussst retrieve objectssses! My eggsses! My eggsses!!” Her voice, which had elevated suddenly on the first “eggsses” returned now to a serene hiss. “And return them here. Awaken my sspeciesss! We wisssh to come home.”
“Show me,” I said. “Where can I find these eggs and how will I know when I do?”
“Under the Ssshadow Ssea. There you will find my eggsses. Many eggsses!” At this point Dalas Salik coalesced from a soupy mist and for the first time her true nature was revealed. She was an alluring cross between a shark and a giant squid, with glistening tentacles and multiple clawed suckers. She was holding what appeared to be a barbed pouch.
“My eggsses,” she stated simply as she began to fade.
I slid out of my trance to find Gudlaug, Andreas and Dain studying me intently. They appeared to be- how shall I say- “concerned,” and proceeded to inquire what “eggsses” I had been mumbling about.
“Just a dream,” I assured the trio as I began preparing for sleep.
“Sounds more like a nightmare to me,” I heard Andreas commenting as I shut my eyes for the night.
I could not sleep knowing that I might soon face a dark dilemma. I still didn’t know what Dalas Salik was, but I remembered Bacauda’s reaction to one of the spirit’s earthly anchors-the black serrated claw that hung from my throat. She had sensed its dark history immediately and proceeded to cast a detect evil spell upon me! Dalas Salik had indeed helped me and my comrades on several occasions, but I felt it unwise to procure these eggs and deliver them to this plane without more information. I certainly had agreed to do so, but would I be inadvertently releasing an ancient evil? I hadn’t spent the last several months cleansing the scourge of the yuan-ti only to introduce a new evil into Skia Thalassa. But then perhaps I wouldn’t even be near the Shadow Sea. These thoughts weighed heavy on my conscious as I finally drifted off.
After some quick preparations the next morning we went to find a certain tree that Gudlaug had chosen previously. He skillfully prepared his incantation and soon we could see sheets of shadows falling behind the trunk and many of the larger branches. We stepped through and were engulfed in the plane of Shadow.
We found ourselves standing in the blasted ruins of a city. Everywhere was misty and dim and images seemed to blur and shift before my eyes. There was a black castle in the distance and several stocky figures were fanning massive fires that struggled to survive. My spirit allies were all babbling at once and the effect was rather nauseating. Barred from the brilliance of the Spirit World, some were cursing this horrible place and only Dalas Salik seemed to thrive, as if she were feeding off the very stuff of shadow. Even Gondoc wished to depart, barring of course the appearance of a foe suitable for consumption. There was a fortified causeway leading to a large dock and further down we could see wagons carting what appeared to be logs back and forth. Shadows jumped in our peripheral vision and we witnessed shades of sahaugin surfacing from the Shadow Sea and reenacting their deaths. As we moved away from the water Dalas Salik became increasingly agitated.
“Wrong way Copox! Wrong way! Eggsses are in the sssseeeee!” she croaked in exasperation.
“Knock it off you nut job!” demanded Gondoc unsympathetically, “Copox, ahem, Copoc knows where he wants to go.”
This was not entirely true, but as we picked our way through the ruins I beheld some fortifications at the mountain’s base and I knew for sure that I did not want to go there! I wondered silently just where Gudlaug’s scouting mission would end.
Dain noticed at this point the remains of some twisted runes and he proceeded to cast comprehend languages. The ancient inscriptions were chiseled in duergar and depicted fragments of a prayer to Volle and Vidar- the twin gods of vengeance. This was an ominous sign as the duergar were the “dwarven bogeymen” of legend that had warred upon the dwarves of faerie at the egg of time. Gudlaug and Dain exchanged concerned glances and quickly agreed that Dain should attempt another spell.
Dalas Salik began moaning again and cursed our lack of progress. “My babeeessss! My babeeesss! I can hear them breathing! Make hassste Copox! Make hassste!”
“Chill you daft loon,” barked Ikali Mox as he summoned a small thunderstorm to cover his head and attempt to drown out the relentless drivel. “You are one bent mama!”
I focused once more upon Dain as he completed his spell. We were windwalking now, vaporous in form and able to glide rapidly over the ruins. I imagined as well that potential adversaries would have difficulty discerning our presence in this world of mist and shadow. And more trouble still causing us harm! We appeared, for all intents and purposes, to be a merry yet determined band of spirits, perhaps searching for a shaman so that we might peer into the physical world.
Soon we could distinguish that the fortifications were facing toward the mountain, as if to keep something inside. Many dwarves were visible, and they were stacking logs saturated with oil against a formidable gate that was blanketed with duergar runes. I was flooded with memories of Urian as I realized that the dwarves were indeed faerie Halaglaz- the mystic order committed to fighting chaos and the fates. Some of the logs withered and deteriorated before my eyes and I saw one unfortunate dekkalfar soul receiving vicious lashes, apparently for having fallen asleep.
We drifted alarmingly close and I was surprised to see that the dwarves, all of them, were practically incandescent, radiating magical auras of various schools and leaving pretty trailers. Dalas Salik was screaming at me now and even my tympanic membranes couldn’t fend off her hideous shrieks.
As I was battling the voices in my head, my comrades were working to solve the mysteries before us. Dain translated some runes from the gate itself that promised destruction to all dwarves penetrating the barrier. Andreas detected thoughts on the gate. It was resistant, but there was little doubt that it was alive. Gudlaug endowed himself with true seeing and revealed to us that the gate was in fact a horned demon! He then decided to further mask our presence with a circle of sound before we continued our approach. A tower, previously shrouded in a smoky haze, came suddenly into view. It stood above the gate and housed multiple pipes that descended from strategic locations and were directed over the entrance. There were several Halaglaz on the roof, and Andreas refocused his thought detection on them. They were intent on the door, and on loosing holy water upon any demons that might happen to appear. “…our duty, our duty ” surfaced frequently in their thoughts, as did “…our fault, our fault.”
Dalas Salik was cursing me in earnest and I was beginning to fear a physical assault when Andreas dimension doored us deep behind the gate. The darkness was nearly complete. Even Gudlaug’s lighted staff provided little comfort. We heard a muffled flapping that sounded far away until nearly upon us, as if its creator had emerged from a deep hole or pit in the distance. I beseeched Kanul Yat Balam to bless me with blindsight so that I could sense the very vibrations of those around me, including the winged creature that I suspected would soon bring trouble.
I gazed into the inky blackness and caught a glimpse of the misbegotten beast as Gudlaug opened with a lightening strike. This appeared to have little or no effect and I felt a foul draft as the creature settled.
“Skink droppings!” I hissed when a strange incantation dispelled the windwalk. Turning toward our unseen opponent, I shifted my shock club, ready to strike. Dario moved in front of Andreas, and I sensed Gudlaug charge in frustration and then curse the beast for attacking his cherished weapon. He clearly had not considered the alternative!
The creature took wing again and perched somewhere in the stygian depths. Another spell flew from its black teeth and I grimaced as I was gashed by an invisible force. Groans from my friends confirmed that I was not alone in this.
A thick voice speaking in heavily accented dekkalfar boomed through the cavern. “No dwarf who enters the grave of the duergar may pass without a curse!” My spirit allies were inching away from the dwarves, and I was seriously considering a spiritjump. I was unsure if I could reach everyone however, and I would not leave my friends. I tried to position myself in the center of the group.
With astounding speed our adversary dove and attacked once more, but this time Dario was prepared and struck the creature a mighty blow. I was nearly overwhelmed by the stench of death, and in the light of Gudlaug’s staff I could see that this monster was composed of densely packed duergar bodies. My shock club crackled and I grasped it firmly, preparing to play some undead dungball.
In the confusion I had almost forgotten about Dain. An unfamiliar chanting reminded me that we had a powerful new ally! I was strangely disoriented as his planeshift went into effect. We appeared in a wheatfield. Gudlaug, Andreas, Dario, Dain and I. The sun felt wonderful and I was slightly annoyed when a shadow fell upon me. I looked up to see that the dread abomination had followed us somehow.
“Skink droppings!” I hissed again, terribly annoyed.
Shadow Secrets and Dark Dilemmas
By Copoc Kitzam (David Nickerson)
After my miserable attempts at sailing without Malcolm’s aid I retired to lounge on deck and enjoy the benefits of Gudlaug’s ability to control weather. We had resolved to return to Jormunsteinn and attempt to pluck three hairs from the beard of the dekkalfar king Lodur Hardhand. I was eager to help break the curse on White Dragon (Cezar) because he had aided us tremendously in our past adventures. I felt that he had suffered justly for his crimes but had paid his dues. I remained unclear on dwarven etiquette, but our task was daunting and I imagined that if done improperly it would incite quick, severe, and quite possibly deadly retribution. No matter. I would let Andreas and the dwarves figure it out. I had other matters to contemplate. Kanul Yat Balam seemed pleased by the recent addition to our party of Dain’s priestly powers and Bombaska’s burning rays. Both would serve well on a foray into the ruins of Tikul. I smiled and stretched in my hammock, the golden medallion of Bombaska heavy and warm upon my chest. Our victory was inevitable and soon the Kulkan Empire would regain its former glory. My spirit allies drowsed on deck, enjoying their spirit sun. I searched for Balamob, my steadfast companion for over a year now, but the feisty little croc was no where in sight. Only when I gazed upon the majesty of Gargok the Skyhunter circling above did I recall that I had recently released Balamob in order to acquire a new and more powerful predator ally. I was becoming a formidable shaman indeed! The shadowy form of Dalas Salik seemed to shrink from the sun and I was troubled briefly but turned in my hammock and put it from my mind. The breeze was gentle and the sun warm. My stomachs growled incessantly, but I was content in my basking and too lazy to stir. Ikali Mox the Living Storm could learn a thing or two about weather control from good old Gudlaug!
The druid appeared suddenly before me. I hadn’t noticed his approach.
“There you are Copoc,” he stated in a puzzled fashion. “We’ve been looking for you. Snatching beards is risky business and we have much planning to do.”
Hal was scampering along the support cord of my hammock. He looked plumper than I had remembered and I was pleased to see that he had invited his new friends. A veritable smorgasbord of long-tailed rodents scurried across and underneath my hammock. I grabbed a handful and shoved them into my maw, glancing furtively at Gudlaug. His eyes grew wide. Bringing my claw to my mouth, ostensibly to scratch my lower jaw, I stuffed Hal’s wriggling tail between my teeth.
“COPOC! You murderer!” Gudlaug screamed.
I swallowed and tried to smile convincingly as Gudlaug began shaking and waving his hands wildly. I awoke even as I was engulfed in searing flames. Bombaska’s medallion was burning my chest and I jumped up, shifting its position. I knew that I had summoned a very powerful ally and would have to consider carefully how best to harness his power. Gargok continued to circle above.
I rejoined my companions in time to find Gudlaug asking Cezar for information about King Lodur. Cezar had only brief contact with the king, but revealed to us a quest that had consumed both Lodur and his forebears. It had occurred that the magical regalia of the last dwarven king before the great flood had vanished in the deluge and was never recovered. Lodur’s father had even constructed a submersible stone boat for the sole purpose of locating this lost treasure.
We anchored well off Jormunsteinn to consider this intriguing revelation. Andreas engaged in a legend lore while I researched new ways to contact the mountainous spirit of Jormunsteinn. I had failed twice previously and was determined to immerse myself in the island’s lore. I needed to find a way to attract the attention of such an immense entity and would have to convince it that a partnership would be mutually beneficial. I speculated briefly on the success of other shamen in this endeavor, but soon questioned whether or not it had ever been attempted. After all, I still had not encountered another shaman in my increasing travels and I wondered often if I was not the last.
Meanwhile Dain had prepared a commune with one of the emissaries of Tyr and was ready to begin. We all gathered around in anticipation.
Dain: Will the plucking of Lodur’s beard be allowed as compensation for recovering the lost regalia?
Emissary of Tyr: Yes.
Dain: Is there a traitor in King Lodur’s court aligned with the Three Mothers?
Emissary of Tyr: Yes.
Dain: Will part of Cezar’s curse be lifted if we acquire Lodur’s beard hairs?
Emissary of Tyr: Yes.
Dain: Is this an acceptable course of action?
Emissary of Tyr: If Cezar has learned his lesson.
Dain: Does Volodya plan to usurp control of the Three Mother’s criminal empire?
Emissary of Tyr: Yes.
Dain: Is the lost regalia located on this plane?
Emissary of Tyr: No.
Dain: Is the lost regalia located on the plane of Shadow?
Emissary of Try: Yes.
Dain: Is the lost regalia in the possession of an individual?
Emissary of Tyr: Yes.
Dain: Is the lost regalia within ten miles of our current position?
Emissary of Tyr: Yes.
Dain: Is the lost regalia within two miles of our current position?
Emissary of Tyr: Yes.
Dain: Is Brathor Goldenhand in league with the Three Mothers?
Emissary of Tyr: No.
Dain: Is Brathor Goldenhand being coerced by the Three Mothers?
Emissary of Tyr: No.
Dain: Has Brathor Goldenhand unknowingly aided the Three Mothers?
Emissary of Tyr: Yes.
Dain’s commune answered many question and asked many more, which was not uncommon with these otherworldly types. We reflected upon this as we approached Jormunsteinn, glad to have Dain among us. After docking at the main waterfront we paid five coppers for a berth. Our armor stowed in bags, we soon headed toward the Pheasant where we could find suitable lodgings and also tell Oiin of Gann’s tragic final days. Haradrak was much as we remembered it and we were all pleasantly surprised to find Bacauda purchasing fish at a local market. With a deft swipe of clawed fingers I made sure that the black barbed hook of Dalas Salik was sufficiently concealed. Bacauda was extremely pleased and thrilled to see us and carried on at length about the “spoon spirit” that I had left with her. It is frustrating at times to attempt an intelligent conversation with the spiritblind, but I sense at least that Bacauda is trying. I felt that I could do no less and resolved to continue my study of the Logotheum. I told Bacauda that I was well into the holy tome and would be happy to learn more. We introduced Dain and he inquired as to the location of the nearest temple of Tyr. After answering our inquiries, Bacauda informed us that the Eorl was throwing a birthday party for her brother, Sir Narses. The festivities would commence in three days and she told us to expect an invitation.
As we continued on to the Pheasant we were approached by some dekkalfar prostitutes.
“Fresh off the sea, eh?” they squawked as they prodded and poked at Gudlaug and Dain. The druid promptly dismissed them all I must admit that I agreed with his wise decision. I knew what these dwarves needed! I searched enthusiastically for the kulkan honeys but none appeared to be present.
When we finally reached our destination we were greeted warmly by Oiin. Introductions were made as were arrangements for rooms and a stable. We were quite surprised to learn that Oiin was acquainted with Dain’s grandfather- the apparently legendary “Casket Smasher.”
Beer was the drink of choice until I broke the news of Gann’s death, carefully omitting details concerning his post-ascension demise. Oiin was visibly shaken and procured a bottle of the finest Iconian brandy. We toasted Gann and reminisced, sharing stories of his more memorable exploits. This continued well into the afternoon and was interrupted only when a small stone tablet sailed through an open window and smashed me in the face. I jumped to my feet, snarling and prepared for battle. Dario was on his feet as well, and Andreas warily scanned the inn.
“Look,” Oiin calmly observed, “an invitation.”
“Why so jumpy Copoc?” snickered Gudlaug.
“Yeah,” continued Dain, “we knew this was coming.”
They continued consuming brandy as I studied this “official” invitation. Dwarves are so weird.
I explained to Oiin that we had been invited to Sir Narses birthday party. He seemed impressed, but commented that Sir Narses was kind of “snooty” for his tastes. We sent word to Brathor that we would attend and retired briefly to our rooms. Dain was apparently accustomed to more elegant quarters and seemed a bit reluctant to stay. He spent the rest of his evening purchasing fancy new clothes and visiting the temple of Tyr. Gudlaug suggested that we scout the Shadow Plane the next morning and then left to perform some pressing druidic duties. Andreas and Dario left as well and I soon found myself alone. I decided to use this time to unravel some personal mysteries and determine what, exactly, Dalas Salik expected me to retrieve from the plane of Shadow. I went into a deep trance and summoned the shadowy spirit.
“The time drawsss near Copox,” she whispered seductively. “You mussst complete our bargain and reward my effortsss to protect both you and your compatriotsss.”
“So you know that I will be entering the plane of Shadow?”
“Yessss. Thisss I have foresseen. You mussst retrieve sssomething for me. Yesss and repay my benevolenssse.”
“What is it you would have me obtain?” I questioned. “And where might I locate this object?”
“Objectssss! Objectssss yesss!! You mussst retrieve objectssses! My eggsses! My eggsses!!” Her voice, which had elevated suddenly on the first “eggsses” returned now to a serene hiss. “And return them here. Awaken my sspeciesss! We wisssh to come home.”
“Show me,” I said. “Where can I find these eggs and how will I know when I do?”
“Under the Ssshadow Ssea. There you will find my eggsses. Many eggsses!” At this point Dalas Salik coalesced from a soupy mist and for the first time her true nature was revealed. She was an alluring cross between a shark and a giant squid, with glistening tentacles and multiple clawed suckers. She was holding what appeared to be a barbed pouch.
“My eggsses,” she stated simply as she began to fade.
I slid out of my trance to find Gudlaug, Andreas and Dain studying me intently. They appeared to be- how shall I say- “concerned,” and proceeded to inquire what “eggsses” I had been mumbling about.
“Just a dream,” I assured the trio as I began preparing for sleep.
“Sounds more like a nightmare to me,” I heard Andreas commenting as I shut my eyes for the night.
I could not sleep knowing that I might soon face a dark dilemma. I still didn’t know what Dalas Salik was, but I remembered Bacauda’s reaction to one of the spirit’s earthly anchors-the black serrated claw that hung from my throat. She had sensed its dark history immediately and proceeded to cast a detect evil spell upon me! Dalas Salik had indeed helped me and my comrades on several occasions, but I felt it unwise to procure these eggs and deliver them to this plane without more information. I certainly had agreed to do so, but would I be inadvertently releasing an ancient evil? I hadn’t spent the last several months cleansing the scourge of the yuan-ti only to introduce a new evil into Skia Thalassa. But then perhaps I wouldn’t even be near the Shadow Sea. These thoughts weighed heavy on my conscious as I finally drifted off.
After some quick preparations the next morning we went to find a certain tree that Gudlaug had chosen previously. He skillfully prepared his incantation and soon we could see sheets of shadows falling behind the trunk and many of the larger branches. We stepped through and were engulfed in the plane of Shadow.
We found ourselves standing in the blasted ruins of a city. Everywhere was misty and dim and images seemed to blur and shift before my eyes. There was a black castle in the distance and several stocky figures were fanning massive fires that struggled to survive. My spirit allies were all babbling at once and the effect was rather nauseating. Barred from the brilliance of the Spirit World, some were cursing this horrible place and only Dalas Salik seemed to thrive, as if she were feeding off the very stuff of shadow. Even Gondoc wished to depart, barring of course the appearance of a foe suitable for consumption. There was a fortified causeway leading to a large dock and further down we could see wagons carting what appeared to be logs back and forth. Shadows jumped in our peripheral vision and we witnessed shades of sahaugin surfacing from the Shadow Sea and reenacting their deaths. As we moved away from the water Dalas Salik became increasingly agitated.
“Wrong way Copox! Wrong way! Eggsses are in the sssseeeee!” she croaked in exasperation.
“Knock it off you nut job!” demanded Gondoc unsympathetically, “Copox, ahem, Copoc knows where he wants to go.”
This was not entirely true, but as we picked our way through the ruins I beheld some fortifications at the mountain’s base and I knew for sure that I did not want to go there! I wondered silently just where Gudlaug’s scouting mission would end.
Dain noticed at this point the remains of some twisted runes and he proceeded to cast comprehend languages. The ancient inscriptions were chiseled in duergar and depicted fragments of a prayer to Volle and Vidar- the twin gods of vengeance. This was an ominous sign as the duergar were the “dwarven bogeymen” of legend that had warred upon the dwarves of faerie at the egg of time. Gudlaug and Dain exchanged concerned glances and quickly agreed that Dain should attempt another spell.
Dalas Salik began moaning again and cursed our lack of progress. “My babeeessss! My babeeesss! I can hear them breathing! Make hassste Copox! Make hassste!”
“Chill you daft loon,” barked Ikali Mox as he summoned a small thunderstorm to cover his head and attempt to drown out the relentless drivel. “You are one bent mama!”
I focused once more upon Dain as he completed his spell. We were windwalking now, vaporous in form and able to glide rapidly over the ruins. I imagined as well that potential adversaries would have difficulty discerning our presence in this world of mist and shadow. And more trouble still causing us harm! We appeared, for all intents and purposes, to be a merry yet determined band of spirits, perhaps searching for a shaman so that we might peer into the physical world.
Soon we could distinguish that the fortifications were facing toward the mountain, as if to keep something inside. Many dwarves were visible, and they were stacking logs saturated with oil against a formidable gate that was blanketed with duergar runes. I was flooded with memories of Urian as I realized that the dwarves were indeed faerie Halaglaz- the mystic order committed to fighting chaos and the fates. Some of the logs withered and deteriorated before my eyes and I saw one unfortunate dekkalfar soul receiving vicious lashes, apparently for having fallen asleep.
We drifted alarmingly close and I was surprised to see that the dwarves, all of them, were practically incandescent, radiating magical auras of various schools and leaving pretty trailers. Dalas Salik was screaming at me now and even my tympanic membranes couldn’t fend off her hideous shrieks.
As I was battling the voices in my head, my comrades were working to solve the mysteries before us. Dain translated some runes from the gate itself that promised destruction to all dwarves penetrating the barrier. Andreas detected thoughts on the gate. It was resistant, but there was little doubt that it was alive. Gudlaug endowed himself with true seeing and revealed to us that the gate was in fact a horned demon! He then decided to further mask our presence with a circle of sound before we continued our approach. A tower, previously shrouded in a smoky haze, came suddenly into view. It stood above the gate and housed multiple pipes that descended from strategic locations and were directed over the entrance. There were several Halaglaz on the roof, and Andreas refocused his thought detection on them. They were intent on the door, and on loosing holy water upon any demons that might happen to appear. “…our duty, our duty ” surfaced frequently in their thoughts, as did “…our fault, our fault.”
Dalas Salik was cursing me in earnest and I was beginning to fear a physical assault when Andreas dimension doored us deep behind the gate. The darkness was nearly complete. Even Gudlaug’s lighted staff provided little comfort. We heard a muffled flapping that sounded far away until nearly upon us, as if its creator had emerged from a deep hole or pit in the distance. I beseeched Kanul Yat Balam to bless me with blindsight so that I could sense the very vibrations of those around me, including the winged creature that I suspected would soon bring trouble.
I gazed into the inky blackness and caught a glimpse of the misbegotten beast as Gudlaug opened with a lightening strike. This appeared to have little or no effect and I felt a foul draft as the creature settled.
“Skink droppings!” I hissed when a strange incantation dispelled the windwalk. Turning toward our unseen opponent, I shifted my shock club, ready to strike. Dario moved in front of Andreas, and I sensed Gudlaug charge in frustration and then curse the beast for attacking his cherished weapon. He clearly had not considered the alternative!
The creature took wing again and perched somewhere in the stygian depths. Another spell flew from its black teeth and I grimaced as I was gashed by an invisible force. Groans from my friends confirmed that I was not alone in this.
A thick voice speaking in heavily accented dekkalfar boomed through the cavern. “No dwarf who enters the grave of the duergar may pass without a curse!” My spirit allies were inching away from the dwarves, and I was seriously considering a spiritjump. I was unsure if I could reach everyone however, and I would not leave my friends. I tried to position myself in the center of the group.
With astounding speed our adversary dove and attacked once more, but this time Dario was prepared and struck the creature a mighty blow. I was nearly overwhelmed by the stench of death, and in the light of Gudlaug’s staff I could see that this monster was composed of densely packed duergar bodies. My shock club crackled and I grasped it firmly, preparing to play some undead dungball.
In the confusion I had almost forgotten about Dain. An unfamiliar chanting reminded me that we had a powerful new ally! I was strangely disoriented as his planeshift went into effect. We appeared in a wheatfield. Gudlaug, Andreas, Dario, Dain and I. The sun felt wonderful and I was slightly annoyed when a shadow fell upon me. I looked up to see that the dread abomination had followed us somehow.
“Skink droppings!” I hissed again, terribly annoyed.
