Adventure 18
Drinking Gudlag's Water
by Andreas (Keith Martin)
The following morning, their Dream messages delivered, Gudlaug and Kuldar discussed how best to proceed into Silurus – and how best to prepare for whatever might befall them there.
“We’ve no provisions left” Andreas reported. “The passing of the black drake not only ruined our healing and other magical elixirs, it fouled our drinking water and spoilt our food as well. I don’t fancy walking all the way to the Silurii homeland on an empty stomach.”
Gudlaug sighed. “How quickly you forget, my human friend. I’m a Druid. I can certainly find more than enough game and fodder along the way to keep even Kuldar’s belly full. And if need be, I can make water.”
“Big deal” Malcom replied at once. “Hell, any of us can make water. In fact, if you will all excuse me a moment . . .” The brash young Cimbri walked off behind a nearby tree to demonstrate his point.
“If it’s all the same, I’d as soon not lower myself to . . . drinking Gudlaug’s water” Andreas said.
“Bah, that’s not what I meant and you all know it!” the dwarven druid blurted out. “Our provisioning need not concern any of you. Of more pressing concern is what do we do next?”
“Go to Silurus. Kill everything.” Kuldar said at once. “That’s the plan I’ve advocated from the beginning.”
Andreas bodyguard, Dario, rolled his eyes at this, but said nothing. The group fell into debate about how best to proceed. Kuldar and Malcom advocated using Gudlaug’s magics to travel via the shadow plane and thus cover the distance in as short a time as possible. Andreas and Gudlaug were less interested in this approach, both being somewhat familiar with the danger inherent in such a plan. In the end, they elected to travel by foot, keeping off the road as much as possible, and relying on Gudlaug’s woodcraft and magic to both enable them to pass undetected and find the path towards the high mountain valley where the Nathrach dwelt.
The first evening out, replies came to the previous day’s magical Dream messages. Gudlaug learned that the druidical order had been informed regarding the apparent plans of the yuan-ti as well as the tainted healing potions. From the court of the Vacomagi, Kuldar learned that the identity of the suspected spy had been uncovered and he had been dealt with.
The next day, Malcom spotted a group of mixed cimbri and half-orc warriors moving up the road towards Silurus. Gudlaug spied them out in the form of a bird and reported that they seemed by their dress to be both Brigantii and Silurii, as well as a few strange lizard seeming creatures. Copoc was intrigued at this report, ever hoping to find the connection between the yaun-ti and the Black Kulkan of his own myth.
“Here’s our best chance yet to get started. Let’s ambush ‘em and wipe ‘em out!” said Kuldar. “How many, you think?”
“Fourty, at least.” Gudlaug replied.
“I’m good for twenty, you lot handle the rest” Kuldar said. He hefted his axe in anticipation.
“I doubt we need concern ourselves with them overmuch” Gudlaug said. “My guess is, this is but a tithe of those who will soon be coming up the road towards the Nathrach. I think these are deserters, essentially. The first few to fall victim to the tainted healing draughts. All well on the way to becoming like our late friend Cryda – half yaun-ti themselves.”
“We could shadow them” Malcom said. “Follow behind, out of sight, and see what becomes of them.”
The group agreed to do just that. Gudlaug continued to cover their tracks, and Malcom kept the Cimbri band in sight. The rest of the company followed at a safe distance. They seemed, by all accounts, to be making directly for the valley of the Nathrach. That night, more magical sendings arrived from Vacomagus. More fighting was breaking out, and an assassin – possible Bethune herself – had delivered a tainted kiss to Kegan, who fell ill at once.
Andreas brought up the group’s plan – or lack thereof. “As usual, we seem to be charging headlong against a foe about which we know little, with no real course of action. What, exactly, are we planning to do when we reach the Nathrach region?”
“Well,” Kuldar began, “I propose that we . . .”
“Cut them all in half?” Dario finished for the dwarf.
“Something like that, yes” Kuldar replied. “You catch on quick, for a human.”
“If it’s all the same to you, I’d prefer a plan less likely to result in us all ending up dead, or worse.” Andreas said. “Taking on the entire Nathrach nation doesn’t seem like such a plan to me.”
“We need some inssssight into Bethune’s actionsss” Copoc hissed. “Some clue asss to her plansss.”
“I have a scrying mirror in my haversack” Andreas mumbled, half to himself. “If I had some possession of hers, something she’d owned or handled, I might be able to see what she was doing.”
“What about the potions?” Malcom said. “We know she was involved with those. If she didn’t actually brew them she at least handled them.”
“It’s worth a try, I suppose. Let me see one of them.” Andreas prepared the components for his spell.
With the potion in hand, he made a few passes over the mirror, saying things in High Illerian that none of his companions could understand. “Bethune is a sorcerer and an accomplished one at that” Andreas warned the group. “Her will is strong, this may well fail or even alert her to our presence. Shall I proceed?” As no one seemed to object, or have any better suggestions, Andreas went one with his incantation. Slowly, the surface of the mirror clouded over. He seemed to see, as from a great height, a collection of buildings. Warm light spilled out of many windows, and Andreas was gripped with a momentary twisting, sickening feeling in his stomach as his point of view seemed to fall rapidly towards the largest structure in the town. With a rush, he seemed to fall through the roof of the building, down into some chamber below . . .
When the scrying trance ended, Andreas reported what he’d seen to his companions.
“I saw Bethune abase herself before a great serpentine form, a massive, scaled creature with arms ending in cruel, taloned fingers and a broad, flat, snake-like head.”
“Krace . . .” Copoc mumbled. “Aye, that would be Krace.” Malcom affirmed.
Andreas continued “To one side of the cimbri sorceress was a map, clearly showing all of the cimbri lands north of the Skia Thalassa. Small potion-bottle icons dotted most of the Siluri and Briganti villages. Krace seemed to be congratulating her. She gestured towards another map, this one apparently of the Nathrach valley. I could make out what seemed to be a vast swamp, lying between the valley entrance and what I guess to be the Nathrach city. Just north of that swamp as a marking that looked rather like a cave mouth. Depicted over it was the form of a horned serpent, chained and bound.”
“The ard-nathrach crypt, perhaps?” Gudlaug said. “The resting place of the original Nathrach, those that the tribe supposedly takes its name from?”
“Perhaps.” Andreas agreed. “It was not clearly marked, at any rate.”
“If it is, though, it bears investigation” Kuldar said. “Our list of allies could use a little lengthening.”
“What, you don’t want to cut them all in half?” Dario asked. “losing your edge, master dwarf?” Kuldar scowled in reply. “Look, lad, I’ve had about enough of your lip. Why don’t we . . .”
Andreas interrupted “Why don’t you both simmer down, there’s more. On that same map was a palisade fence, it looked to me as if it closed off the end of the valley itself, so it mut be some miles in length. It seemed to me Bethune was reporting a tally of something – five score markers were depicted near this symbol, and as she spoke to Krace, Bethune added a few more.”
“In another day or so she’ll add another forty, I guess.” Malcom said. “She probably reports on the effectiveness of the tainted potions in gathering new ‘converts’ to the cause.”
“I hadn’t considered that. You may well be right. I saw one other thing, most troubling. I saw a shadow fall over both figures, Bethune and Krace both hurled themselves face down in fear and abasement. They looked fairly terrified to me.”
“What cast this shadow?” Gudlaug asked. “I could not tell, but it had a singularly un-nerving outline. A large creature, certainly, and its head seemed to – writhe.”
“Writhe?” Copoc said. “Like a snake?”
“Like many snakes. It was our snake-headed demon, of that I am fairly certain. I saw only the thing’s hand – a very large and powerful looking hand, at that. It gifted Bethune with what looked to me like an entire skin, flayed from a living man. Or a living elf, I suppose.” Malcom looked a bit queasy. “Whatever it was, it was – tattooed all over. And it was still moving. Bethune donned it as one might don a silk robe and it – joined itself to her, is the only way I can explain it. When this was finished, she looked even less like a Cimbri than before. Her skin was decidedly scaly looking.”
“Wonderful.” Gudlaug said. “She slips further and further into full-blown reptile-hood all the time!”
“That’s not all. When this was finished, Krace gave her a case of wine, which she took and then magiced herself off somewhere. My spell ended at that point. I think she teleported herself someplace.”
“Wine? A case of wine, you say?” Kuldar said. “I think I’ll need you to make use of that dream message again, wizard. The Vacomagi import a great deal of wine from Siluri. Some of it at least comes from the Nathrach.”
Andreas made preparations to do so, and allow Kuldar to warn his people against the possibility of tainted wine. Gudlaug, Copoc and Malcom debated the merits of attempting to reach the cave or crypt that Andreas had seen on Bethune’s map. All seemed to think this was a wise plan, though of course there was considerable danger involved.
“North of a swamp, it looked to be, you say?” Said Kuldar. “Black dragons live in swamps. We know they’ve a black dragon involved in this plot.”
“Cyranog” Copoc said. “Cryda named it Cyranog. She seemed to know about it.”
“And she said that Cyranog guards the unfaithful” Malcom said. “At least, I think that’s what she said, we didn’t get a chance to discuss it at length, her desire to chitchat was cut a bit short by Kuldar’s axe.”
“Bah. She had it comin’” Kuldar spat. “I told her if she played us false, or tried to flee, I’d see her dead. So I’m a dwarf of my word.”
With all in agreement to seek out this cave, the group set out the next morning on the last leg of the trip to the valley where the Nathrach dwelt. By late afternoon they approached the palisade fence that Andreas saw on Bethune’s map. The group of forty partially-transformed Cimbri were there already. A few yaun-ti guards examined them closely before allowing any to pass through the gate.
From hiding, the group concocted a plan to pass the gate and seek out the lair of Cyranog. Gudlaug would transform himself into a bird and fly ahead, seeking out the swamp and the cave, if possible. At a pre-determined point, Andreas would scry him out and then use his magics to teleport the entire group nearby. Gudlaug unpacked the last remaining gear from his mule, Gertrude, then sent her loose to make her way back towards Vacomagi as best she could. “She’s uncommonly bright for a mule” the dwarf said. “I’m sure she’ll be fine, just fine.” Dario thought he detected a bit of uncertainty in the dwarf’s tone, but said nothing.
The group put this plan into action, and Gudlaug, in the form of a great night bird, had little difficulty spotting the hunting ground of Cyranog the drake – the panicky wildlife was his first clue. The sudden appearance of the dragon, as it dove into a small herd of deer was his second. Luckily, dragons take little interest in the doings of screech owls, and the druid was able to scout out a potential camping spot with no troubles from the drake. At the appointed hour, Andreas spied out the dwarf’s location and brought he group there via his magic.
“Sleep as best you can, we’ll likely be tangling with the thing tomorrow. I spied the cave, it’s a few short miles north of us, just outside the swamp proper.” Gudlaug said.
“Know any charms to ward off the thing’s acid breath?” Kuldar said. “I mean, I have no need of them, but the others might want a bit of protection . . .”
“Aye, I do, as does Gudlaug I am sure” Andreas said. “It will take more than that, though, but I have a plan . . .”
The next morning, the company made their way towards the cave entrance, spells prepared, and a plan of action in mind. Outside were a few scaly-looking characters, including what Malcom at first thought we a group of Kulkan – Copoc’s people. Suddenly, the shaman hissed through clenched teeth “Black Kulkan! Scourge of the ancient nest! You will die by my hand!” He pulled forth his great, two-handed war-club and charged. It seemed to Andreas that he cast a spell of some sort first, but he had never seen the lizard-man in such a red rage before.
One of the Black Kulkan quickly revealed himself to be more than it appeared on the surface – a great pair of black wings unfolded as he charged into battle. He belched forth a line of caustic bile that burned Gudlaug and Malcom as they came to grips with the others. Cyranog’s brood were quickly overwhelmed, however, between the battle frenzy of Copoc and the axe and spear work of Malcom, Kuldar and Dario. The half-dragon hissed something in draconic (which Copoc could have translated for the group, were he not in a berserk frenzy) and the last few black kulkan withdrew quickly into the cave itself, leaving the scattered and wounded others to fend for themselves.
The group quickly dispatched these few and then made hasty preparations to enter the lair itself. Abjurative magics in place, they made haste, hoping to catch the drake where it could not use its powers of flight to dictate the course of the battle. Malcom crept forward invisibly to position himself for best effect, but the smell and hearing of a dragon are at least as keen as its eyesight, and the drake seemed to guess at the half-elf’s location. With a spell, it plunged the entire cave into pitch darkness. Only the two dwarves could see Cyranog and his two surviving black kulkan lackeys.
Andreas cursed and spent a few precious moments dispelling the gloom. Malcom charged, but his blows were easily tuned aside by the dragon’s thick scaly hide. Dario rushed the kulkans while Gudlaug called up a mighty pillar of flame, which badly wounded the drake and felled one of his defenders.
“First blood!” the dwarf cried. “Get at him, quickly, Malcom won’t last against that thing.”
Indeed, the dwarf’s words were almost prophetic, for Cyranog unleashed a terrible torrent of claws and venomous bites at the poor Cimbri. Malcom, sorely wounded, fell back as best he could towards Copoc, who readied some healing magics. Kuldar closed with the drake, and dealt it a few terrible blows – any doubts Dario or Andreas had about the dwarf’s ability to combat something other than a bound and terrified cimbri captive were dispelled.
Cyranog turned his attention towards Kuldar, and the dwarven defender was sorely pressed to bear up under the drake’s assault. “I thought you had a bloody plan, mage!” Kuldar cried out.
In answer, Andreas let forth a shimmering, ruby beam of energy, which struck the drake point blank. The dragon visibly grew weaker, its massive muscles shrank, the mighty wings and tail seemed to droop feebly. “That’s more like it!” Kuldar cried. The dwarf threw himself into the fray again, while Dario and Copoc dispatched the half-dragon kulkan.
But victory was elusive, and Cyranog was canny enough to know when he was beaten. The dragon withdrew, and slithered down a passage in the back of the great cavern where it laired. With a cry of rage, the dwarf gave pursuit, charging down the twisting passage as best he could. The dragon was just fast enough to stay outside the reach of his axe, and the tunnel emerged at last in a large chamber with a pool of foul-smelling liquid. Into this Cyranog the black dragon dove, even as Kuldar cried out curses at him.
“Damnit, you big scaly coward! Get back here and take what’s coming to you!” The others burst into the room behind him. “Bah! The damn thing’s given us the slip! Some plan, wizard.”
“That was but half the plan, dwarf. I didn’t expect the thing to turn tail so soon, though the spell of enfeeblement I hit it with was especially potent. It must have been sorely wounded.”
“Damnit, anyway” Gudlaug said. “We’ll not get a better chance at this. I tire of our foes fleeing just as we are about to finally strike them down, first Bethune and her damnable hit and run tactics, and now this!”
“The fault is mine.” Andreas said. “The thing shrugged off a few of my spells, I should have been better prepared. Next time, I’ll take a simpler approach.”
The group gathered at the edge of the pool. “Who here is our best swimmer?” They all looked at Copoc. The lizard man looked none to excited about chasing a black dragon into the murky depths. “I can’t breathe water, you know . . .” he said. Suddenly Malcomb pointed towards the back of the chamber.
“Look, there. Looks like a passageway. As much as I hate to leave Cyranog behind us, we may find what we came here for in that direction . . .”
[Game mechanical notes – Anyone who doubts the usefulness of the Empower Spell feat need only have been present for that battle. One Empowered Ray of Enfeeblement sent Cyranog from a strength of 23 to a strength of 8. Of course, the dragon wisely decided to haul ass at that point – more’s the pity, as Andreas never got to fire of the Everard’s Black Tentacles spell he’d meant to use to pin down the weakened dragon. As I said, though – next time, a less complicated plan.]
