"The Burning Plague" by Miguel Duran (WotC Free Adventure) - Part 10
The Padre is in that dark and comfortable place just below the edge of consciousness. He can still feel the bone-deep ache of weariness, but it's distant, far removed from him. Almost as far removed as the voice repeating his name, over and over again, or the small hands that tug urgently on his arm.
He mutters under his breath, shrugging off the distractions that are trying to keep him from his rest. The voice dims, no longer intruding into his dreams.
And then something cold and slimy snakes into his ear, and he all but leaps to his feet, yelling and clutching at the side of his head, horrid thoughts of flesh grubs or ear seekers uppermost in his mind.
"It's about time you woke up." Twinkle wipes her saliva-wettened finger on her shirt, "I've been shaking you for ages."
"What is it?" the Padre asks, stonily, his tone making it clear that this had better be important.
"Kobolds." Twinkle points into the darkness on the far side of the pit trap. "They say they want to talk. They say they'll shoot us all if we don't agree to a deal. I told them I'd have to wake you."
The Padre stares blankly in the direction the gnome is pointing.
"I don't see any kobolds -" he begins, but as he does, a dim light flares briefly in the darkness, and he catches a glimpse of more than a dozen of the small dog-men, each pointing a crossbow at his heart, "- okay, I'm willing to listen to their offer."
"You let us go with no more fighting, we not kill you." A voices rasps softly out of the darkness, "We take all food from store, leave this place. Nobody die."
"We can't let murderers go." The priest folds his arms, stepping in front of Twinkle as he does so. Shielded from view, the small gnome slips into the shadows and begins to quietly wake the others. Each remains still, lying in place as they listen to the Padre's negotiations.
"We not murderers." The kobold responds, "You the murderers. We peaceful tribe in nice home, you break in and attack us, not us attack you."
"What about the miners who were here?"
"We not kill!" the kobold denies, despite the clear evidence to the contrary, "They dead when we come. Demon kill them."
"A demon?" the Padre's tone shows his disbelief, "Where is this 'demon' now?"
"Below. You let us leave, you able to go deeper and kill demon. Kill murderer. You know when demon close; caves become hot like volcano."
"We should take the offer." Twinkle hisses quietly to the Padre, moving up beside him, "There are too many of them."
"They killed the miners."
"And we killed a bunch of them, in return. I like kobolds even less than you, you know. But there's no way these little brutes are responsible for the disease. They aren't smart enough."
Reluctantly, the Padre accedes, and the group allows the kobolds to depart. The decision still nags at the Priest, however, and he takes Stormstrider aside,
"Can you follow them?" he asks, "Keep at a distance, but make sure they don't hurt anyone."
The elf nods, gathers up his things and, after waiting a while to give the kobolds a head-start, slips out of the mine to pick up their trail.
Down one of their most experienced fighters, the group resumes their camp - this time retreating to the safety of the now-empty store room - and waits out the night. Unfortunately, by the time the Padre is able to regain his spells and begin the process of healing their injuries, the first symptoms of the disease are becoming apparent among them. Almost the entire group are suffering to some extent, with pounding headaches and feverish temperatures. Anastria alone seems unaffected, as they learn once the Padre has restored her to consciousness.
Despite the dizziness and nausea that is now afflicting most of them, the group chooses to press on, knowing that their symptoms will only grow more severe. The longer they delay, the more difficult their job will be. At least now their injuries are almost entirely healed.
As they continue into the dark tunnels, the air grows slowly hotter and more moist. For those adventurers who are already feverish, the heat and the close air come to be almost unbearable, but they press on doggedly. Eventually, this persistence pays off, as they enter a cavern of baking heat and stifling humidity.
Scattered around the cavern are several corpses, consisting of a mix of humans and kobolds. As the group enters, these corpses slowly draw themselves to their feet and move forward to attack, emitting wordless moans as they come.
Such challenges no longer hold much danger for the Company, however, and the battle is over almost before it begins: the Padre invokes his god, instantly sending most of the creatures fleeing in terror. Unfortunately for the zombies, of course, they flee very slowly, and the group ambles after them, hacking them down almost at will.
Only one of the zombies is able to flee far enough into the tunnels to - at least temporarily - escape them, and the group wastes no time in pursuing it.
As they travel still deeper into the mine, the oppressive heat begins to diminish, though the air remains clammy and filled with moisture. The sound of running water reaches them, and ahead they spy another cavern, dotted with patches of luminescent moss. Unlike the other caverns they have seen, this one does not appear to have been worked with tools, but instead has been hollowed out naturally by a cascading underwater stream. The stream runs smoothly between dozens of slick, smooth stones, each coated by a light sheen of spray.
As the group reaches the entrance of this cave, the zombie that had escaped them earlier lurches out of the darkness, clawing ineffectually at the Padre. Barely breaking stride, the cleric of St Cuthbert strikes the undead creature to the floor.
"I'm not very impressed by this so-called demon, thus far." He remarks.
As he speaks, a hoarse, guttural chant breaks out from the furthest end of the cavern, and a scarred orc, dressed in animal skins and black armour, steps into sight. The adventurers react immediately: an arrow from Twinkle lodges in the orc’s thigh, while one of Mantreus’ magical missiles slams into its chest. In response, the orc growls a magical phrase and gestures, and immediately a dense cloud of greenish-yellow gas boils out of his hands, surging rapidly toward the group.