[D&D 5e 2024] Heroes of the Borderlands
- Thread starter Lazybones
- Start date
Lazybones
Hero
I also have a lot of nostalgia for the Keep. It was the location for my first game of D&D, in the summer of 1982. I don't have a lot of specific recollections of that adventure, but I remember that my first character was an elf, and that he went into the kobold cave. From such humble origins is a lifetime hobby born...
* * *
Chapter 10
The warrior stared down into his mug. It was empty, the last few bubbles at the bottom quickly vanishing into nothing. It looked the way he felt inside, as if he was perched at the edge of a great chasm, one that he could plummet into at any moment. He felt hollow. It wasn’t the way he’d felt yesterday, after he’d killed that cultist. That had… it had been grim, and his hands had shook when they’d returned to the keep that night, but his dreams hadn’t been any more terrible than usual. He remembered feeling relief that morning, that his fears of trauma stemming from him practicing the new career he’d stolen had been proven as empty as his mug.
But today…
Today he had almost died.
He hadn’t wanted to go out again, not so soon after that fight in the woods. He’d slept in Cornflower’s hayloft again, but the next morning he’d still felt tired, and sore all over. But when they’d met for breakfast at the tavern Ravani had kept on about how they were so close to finishing that dwarf’s quest, and collecting their hundred gold. So they’d headed out once more, this time heading south into the fens. They’d spent hours trudging through thick tangles of bushes and sodden mires, and after a while it had looked like all they were going to find were mosquitos and mud.
The trek had been hot, useless drudgery. Until it suddenly wasn’t.
He could still remember how it had felt, when that thing had stuck him. Not the first one, though that had been bad enough. They’d appeared out of nowhere, the three of them like demon-spawned bats, sprouting out of the weeds that covered the fens like a thick carpet, attacking before he had known that they were even there. The first one had landed on his arm, jabbing its beak-thing deep into his muscle, eagerly sucking his blood from his body. He remembered screaming as he tried to cut it off him, but he’d been unable to get his sword fully out of its scabbard, nearly gashing his own neck as he’d tried to slice it clear. He’d managed to hurt it enough for Folgar to finish it off with one of those magical missiles of his, the other two missiles veering hard left to slam into one of the things that was diving toward Ravani. He remembered hearing his companions shouting as he’d pulled its bloody proboscis of the dead monster out of his body. Leana’s warning had come too late. The next thing he heard was the flapping wings right behind him, right before the last creature’s needle-sharp beak had plunged down through the gap between his neck and shoulder, stabbing deep into his body…
“Are you all right?”
He jumped and nearly fell off the stool. The empty mug was gone; the tavernkeeper must have taken it away somehow without him noticing. He looked over to see Leana perched atop the stool next to his; likewise he hadn’t heard her approach. Some adventurer, he thought.
“Yeah, I… I’m okay,” he said. “Just thinking about the fight with the… what did Folgar call those things again?”
“Stirges,” she said. “Nasty bloodsuckers.”
“Yeah.” The warrior rolled his shoulders, and for a brief terrible moment it felt like the monster’s beak was still inside him, like a dagger. Once again he felt that intense pain, and the sensation of fluids gushing as his lung had started to fill with blood… “I’m fine.” He wished that the mug was still there, so that he had something to hold onto, to keep his hands from shaking.
“It’s rough,” she said. “What we do. To engage in a profession so dependent upon violence, and death.”
He didn’t look at her. He almost blurted out his secret, almost told her what his own treacherous mind had been whispering at him since he’d set out from Dunwillow. You’re a fraud, you’re not a warrior, you’re nothing more than an imposter… But he remained silent.
“Well,” she finally said. “If you need some more time, I can tell the others. But if you’re ready, we have a meeting scheduled with the castellan.”
The eagerness in her voice broke through his own preoccupation, and he finally looked over at her. “The castellan?”
“Yeah, he’s like the boss of the whole place. Some human lord, I believe. Or maybe an elf, I’m not certain.”
“He wants to meet us?”
“Yep. We just heard, they sent a messenger over to the inn just as we were coming down from our rooms. Apparently word travels fast that we are a force to be reckoned with. I suppose Dwern told him that we completed that survey job, and about the cultists we fought yesterday.”
The warrior nodded; he could still feel the unfamiliar weight of the gold coins in his purse. He could afford to buy new clothes, gear, and something to eat besides soup. He could even sleep in a bed at the inn instead of Cornflower’s hayloft, if he wanted to. It probably would have been the first thing on his mind, if not for that ache in his chest to remind him of what had happened.
“When?”
She smiled, and gestured toward the door. “Right now.”
He stood up as Leana hopped down from her stool. “I, ah, I’m still pretty messy,” he said. He’d washed up, and changed his shirt, but he hadn’t done much else except sit here and stew in his thoughts. He hadn’t even eaten yet, he realized as his stomach rumbled.
“Don’t worry,” she said. “A little dirt and the odd bloodstain add a bit of verisimilitude.” At his confused look, she smiled and said, “Come on. Maybe they’ll even have a spread for us. Nobles have to offer food and drink to their guests, it’s polite.”
“Ah… I didn’t get a chance to thank you, before,” he said once they made it out into the street. “For saving my life.” All he remembered was the blood, and the pain that had greeted him when she’d healed him, the panic that filled him when he’d been suddenly dragged him back into consciousness.
“There’s no need to thank me,” she said. She reached up and touched his hand. “We’re an adventuring crew; we look out for each other. Now, let’s get going before Ravani says something that gets us all kicked out of the keep for good.”
They weren’t offered food, but the castellan poured them each a cup of a light, fruity white wine that made the warrior’s head swim after just a few swallows. He put the cup down and resolved not to drink any more of it.
He was a bit surprised by Lord Winvarle. The man was a half-elf, the first half-breed the warrior had met, his mixed ancestry visible in the way that his ears pointed slightly. The man had greeted them warmly, and he’d served them himself, not relying on a servant to pour the wine or show them to their seats. Although maybe there was a reason he’d kept the castle servants out of this meeting, the warrior thought.
In addition to the nobleman, Dwern the scribe was present, and a strikingly-attractive elf woman introduced to them as Elandra. She was even more unusual than Winvarle, with a dusky gray skin and pure white hair. Apparently she was some kind of advisor to the castellan, though he missed the details of what the castellan said while they were being introduced. He’d been distracted by Ravani, who hissed, “Drow!” under his breath when they’d entered the room and seen her. The warrior didn’t know what that meant, but it hadn’t sounded nice. Fortunately, she either didn’t hear the comment or was not offended by it.
The meeting room was just big enough for all of them. Once they’d all gotten their wine and gotten settled around the big table, the castellan lifted his glass in a toast. “I understand that thanks are in order,” he told them. “Dwern tells me that you dealt with some sinister fellows in the woods beyond the Keep.”
“Cultists, my lord,” Leana said. “They were gathered around an old statue in the forest. We interrupted them in the middle of some kind of ritual, and they attacked us.”
Winvarle nodded seriously. “It is because of them that I have asked you here today. Your arrival is fortuitous. I’ve heard whispers of this cult—a self-proclaimed Cult of Chaos—that reportedly operates in a cave network to the northeast. I believe that the source of the cult’s power resides in one of those caves.”
“These lands yearn for heroes,” the castellan said, placing his hands before him on the table. “For the good of the Borderlands, and the people under my charge, I humbly ask you to investigate these rumors, and, if need be, quash this evil before it reaches the keep.”
There was a pause after the lord finished speaking. Finally, Ravani said, “And we should do this deed out of the kindness in our hearts, castellan? Heroism is all well and good, but adventuring is an expensive career.”
The warrior looked at the lord, afraid he might take offense, but he just nodded, as if he’d been expecting the question. “We can provide some supplies to aid you in your quest: rations, extra arrows, even an enchanted potion of healing that can bring someone back from the brink of death. And furthermore, the Caves of Chaos abound with treasure: gold coins, precious gemstones, even magical items. Anything you find is yours, of course. We are far from any tax collectors, out here on the frontier. Completing this quest can win you both fame and fortune, in addition to our gratitude.”
The adventurers shared another one of those meaningful looks that the warrior had noted earlier. But this time, after checking with her two companions, Leana looked at him. This time he could see the question in her eyes.
After a moment, he nodded.
“Very well,” the priestess said. “We accept this charge, my lord.”
Game Notes:
The stirge fight wasn’t that remarkable, except that there was a whole lot of missing going on. Grimdark was the only one injured, taking two hits for 8 and 9 damage respectively on the first and second rounds of the fight, which knocked him out despite using his Second Wind on round 1 (his d10 will turn out to be about as cursed as his d20). The only party members who inflicted damage on the stirges were Grimdark (and only from his Graze weapon mastery), and Folgar (whose magic missiles were about the only thing that could make contact).
Half-elves don’t exist in 5e 2024 (at least not as a separate species option), but the starter box seemed confused about Winvarle’s identity (the text calls him an elf, but his card says he’s human), so I made the narrative decision to make him a half-elf.
Next: Off to the Caves!
* * *
Chapter 10
The warrior stared down into his mug. It was empty, the last few bubbles at the bottom quickly vanishing into nothing. It looked the way he felt inside, as if he was perched at the edge of a great chasm, one that he could plummet into at any moment. He felt hollow. It wasn’t the way he’d felt yesterday, after he’d killed that cultist. That had… it had been grim, and his hands had shook when they’d returned to the keep that night, but his dreams hadn’t been any more terrible than usual. He remembered feeling relief that morning, that his fears of trauma stemming from him practicing the new career he’d stolen had been proven as empty as his mug.
But today…
Today he had almost died.
He hadn’t wanted to go out again, not so soon after that fight in the woods. He’d slept in Cornflower’s hayloft again, but the next morning he’d still felt tired, and sore all over. But when they’d met for breakfast at the tavern Ravani had kept on about how they were so close to finishing that dwarf’s quest, and collecting their hundred gold. So they’d headed out once more, this time heading south into the fens. They’d spent hours trudging through thick tangles of bushes and sodden mires, and after a while it had looked like all they were going to find were mosquitos and mud.
The trek had been hot, useless drudgery. Until it suddenly wasn’t.
He could still remember how it had felt, when that thing had stuck him. Not the first one, though that had been bad enough. They’d appeared out of nowhere, the three of them like demon-spawned bats, sprouting out of the weeds that covered the fens like a thick carpet, attacking before he had known that they were even there. The first one had landed on his arm, jabbing its beak-thing deep into his muscle, eagerly sucking his blood from his body. He remembered screaming as he tried to cut it off him, but he’d been unable to get his sword fully out of its scabbard, nearly gashing his own neck as he’d tried to slice it clear. He’d managed to hurt it enough for Folgar to finish it off with one of those magical missiles of his, the other two missiles veering hard left to slam into one of the things that was diving toward Ravani. He remembered hearing his companions shouting as he’d pulled its bloody proboscis of the dead monster out of his body. Leana’s warning had come too late. The next thing he heard was the flapping wings right behind him, right before the last creature’s needle-sharp beak had plunged down through the gap between his neck and shoulder, stabbing deep into his body…
“Are you all right?”
He jumped and nearly fell off the stool. The empty mug was gone; the tavernkeeper must have taken it away somehow without him noticing. He looked over to see Leana perched atop the stool next to his; likewise he hadn’t heard her approach. Some adventurer, he thought.
“Yeah, I… I’m okay,” he said. “Just thinking about the fight with the… what did Folgar call those things again?”
“Stirges,” she said. “Nasty bloodsuckers.”
“Yeah.” The warrior rolled his shoulders, and for a brief terrible moment it felt like the monster’s beak was still inside him, like a dagger. Once again he felt that intense pain, and the sensation of fluids gushing as his lung had started to fill with blood… “I’m fine.” He wished that the mug was still there, so that he had something to hold onto, to keep his hands from shaking.
“It’s rough,” she said. “What we do. To engage in a profession so dependent upon violence, and death.”
He didn’t look at her. He almost blurted out his secret, almost told her what his own treacherous mind had been whispering at him since he’d set out from Dunwillow. You’re a fraud, you’re not a warrior, you’re nothing more than an imposter… But he remained silent.
“Well,” she finally said. “If you need some more time, I can tell the others. But if you’re ready, we have a meeting scheduled with the castellan.”
The eagerness in her voice broke through his own preoccupation, and he finally looked over at her. “The castellan?”
“Yeah, he’s like the boss of the whole place. Some human lord, I believe. Or maybe an elf, I’m not certain.”
“He wants to meet us?”
“Yep. We just heard, they sent a messenger over to the inn just as we were coming down from our rooms. Apparently word travels fast that we are a force to be reckoned with. I suppose Dwern told him that we completed that survey job, and about the cultists we fought yesterday.”
The warrior nodded; he could still feel the unfamiliar weight of the gold coins in his purse. He could afford to buy new clothes, gear, and something to eat besides soup. He could even sleep in a bed at the inn instead of Cornflower’s hayloft, if he wanted to. It probably would have been the first thing on his mind, if not for that ache in his chest to remind him of what had happened.
“When?”
She smiled, and gestured toward the door. “Right now.”
He stood up as Leana hopped down from her stool. “I, ah, I’m still pretty messy,” he said. He’d washed up, and changed his shirt, but he hadn’t done much else except sit here and stew in his thoughts. He hadn’t even eaten yet, he realized as his stomach rumbled.
“Don’t worry,” she said. “A little dirt and the odd bloodstain add a bit of verisimilitude.” At his confused look, she smiled and said, “Come on. Maybe they’ll even have a spread for us. Nobles have to offer food and drink to their guests, it’s polite.”
“Ah… I didn’t get a chance to thank you, before,” he said once they made it out into the street. “For saving my life.” All he remembered was the blood, and the pain that had greeted him when she’d healed him, the panic that filled him when he’d been suddenly dragged him back into consciousness.
“There’s no need to thank me,” she said. She reached up and touched his hand. “We’re an adventuring crew; we look out for each other. Now, let’s get going before Ravani says something that gets us all kicked out of the keep for good.”
* * *
They weren’t offered food, but the castellan poured them each a cup of a light, fruity white wine that made the warrior’s head swim after just a few swallows. He put the cup down and resolved not to drink any more of it.
He was a bit surprised by Lord Winvarle. The man was a half-elf, the first half-breed the warrior had met, his mixed ancestry visible in the way that his ears pointed slightly. The man had greeted them warmly, and he’d served them himself, not relying on a servant to pour the wine or show them to their seats. Although maybe there was a reason he’d kept the castle servants out of this meeting, the warrior thought.
In addition to the nobleman, Dwern the scribe was present, and a strikingly-attractive elf woman introduced to them as Elandra. She was even more unusual than Winvarle, with a dusky gray skin and pure white hair. Apparently she was some kind of advisor to the castellan, though he missed the details of what the castellan said while they were being introduced. He’d been distracted by Ravani, who hissed, “Drow!” under his breath when they’d entered the room and seen her. The warrior didn’t know what that meant, but it hadn’t sounded nice. Fortunately, she either didn’t hear the comment or was not offended by it.
The meeting room was just big enough for all of them. Once they’d all gotten their wine and gotten settled around the big table, the castellan lifted his glass in a toast. “I understand that thanks are in order,” he told them. “Dwern tells me that you dealt with some sinister fellows in the woods beyond the Keep.”
“Cultists, my lord,” Leana said. “They were gathered around an old statue in the forest. We interrupted them in the middle of some kind of ritual, and they attacked us.”
Winvarle nodded seriously. “It is because of them that I have asked you here today. Your arrival is fortuitous. I’ve heard whispers of this cult—a self-proclaimed Cult of Chaos—that reportedly operates in a cave network to the northeast. I believe that the source of the cult’s power resides in one of those caves.”
“These lands yearn for heroes,” the castellan said, placing his hands before him on the table. “For the good of the Borderlands, and the people under my charge, I humbly ask you to investigate these rumors, and, if need be, quash this evil before it reaches the keep.”
There was a pause after the lord finished speaking. Finally, Ravani said, “And we should do this deed out of the kindness in our hearts, castellan? Heroism is all well and good, but adventuring is an expensive career.”
The warrior looked at the lord, afraid he might take offense, but he just nodded, as if he’d been expecting the question. “We can provide some supplies to aid you in your quest: rations, extra arrows, even an enchanted potion of healing that can bring someone back from the brink of death. And furthermore, the Caves of Chaos abound with treasure: gold coins, precious gemstones, even magical items. Anything you find is yours, of course. We are far from any tax collectors, out here on the frontier. Completing this quest can win you both fame and fortune, in addition to our gratitude.”
The adventurers shared another one of those meaningful looks that the warrior had noted earlier. But this time, after checking with her two companions, Leana looked at him. This time he could see the question in her eyes.
After a moment, he nodded.
“Very well,” the priestess said. “We accept this charge, my lord.”
Game Notes:
The stirge fight wasn’t that remarkable, except that there was a whole lot of missing going on. Grimdark was the only one injured, taking two hits for 8 and 9 damage respectively on the first and second rounds of the fight, which knocked him out despite using his Second Wind on round 1 (his d10 will turn out to be about as cursed as his d20). The only party members who inflicted damage on the stirges were Grimdark (and only from his Graze weapon mastery), and Folgar (whose magic missiles were about the only thing that could make contact).
Half-elves don’t exist in 5e 2024 (at least not as a separate species option), but the starter box seemed confused about Winvarle’s identity (the text calls him an elf, but his card says he’s human), so I made the narrative decision to make him a half-elf.
Next: Off to the Caves!
Lazybones
Hero
Chapter 11
They set off early the next morning. True to his word, Winvarle had a package delivered to the inn: a leather satchel containing a week’s worth of non-perishable foodstuffs, a quiver of extra arrows, and the potion. The warrior examined it curiously; he’d heard of such things, of course, but he’d never seen one before. The bright red liquid seemed to sparkle within its glass vial. They agreed that Ravani would carry it, since he was fast enough to get to someone who needed it in a hurry.
“How does it work?” the warrior had asked as he handed it over.
“Magic,” the elf said with a wink.
They had a brief encounter on the road, while the keep was still visible about half a mile behind them. On hearing a soft crunch within the bushes alongside the road the warrior had reached for his sword, but the source of the sound turned out to be a solitary hunter rather than bandits. The hunter was a dwarf named Haldryck, who the others recognized; apparently he was the local innkeeper, out hunting game for that evening’s stew. He carried a huge crossbow that he slung on seeing the adventurers.
“Bah, I was stalking a fine old elk, and you scared him off with all your clomping about,” the dwarf said. He gave the warrior an evaluative look. “Got yourselves a fighter, did you?”
“Indeed, Master Haldryck,” Leana said. “We’re heading east today, to the Caves of Chaos. Have you heard of them?”
The dwarf visibly blanched, and he made a sign against evil, touching his brow, lips, and heart with his thumb. “I know enough to stay away from that fell place,” he said. “I’d wish you good fortune, but folks that go looking for trouble need more than Lady Luck’s blessing.”
“Well, fortunately we have a cleric with us,” Ravani said, but the words were spoken to the dwarf’s back, as he hastily retreated down the trail. “Well, that wasn’t at all ominous,” he said to the others.
“He was genuinely scared,” Leana said.
“Maybe some of the people in the Keep know more than they’re letting on about this cult,” Folgar suggested. “Somebody put that mark on the side of the temple that you told us about, Leana.”
“Let’s stick to the matter at hand,” the halfling said. “We’ve still got a long walk ahead of us.”
The castellan’s advisor, Elandra, had told them that the caves were about three miles from the Keep, and that they should be able to see the steep-sided ravine where they were located from the trail. They kept a brisk pace, though they remained alert for any threats. After about a mile, they came to one of the bends of the river, with the fens stretching out into the distance on the other side. They’d covered only a tiny fraction it in their previous explorations, the warrior realized. Off in the distance, he could see hills covered in trees rising out of the sodden lowlands. That would be the Tamarack Stand, one of the regions that Dweck had noted in his book. Cornflower had mentioned something about that place the other night, but he hadn’t been listening closely and couldn’t remember what it was.
“Need to take a piss,” Folgar announced. He dropped his pack unceremoniously onto the dirt of the trail and stepped off behind some nearby trees.
“Let’s all take a moment,” Leana said. “Stay hydrated, and stretch your muscles.”
The warrior walked over to a slanted boulder that jutted out from the muddy shore into the river. He leaned against it and took out his water flask. To his surprise, he noticed that Ravani had followed him. Leana was kneeling on the water’s edge, probably offering a prayer to her god.
“How are you doing, Grimbo?” the elf asked. “You’ve seemed… well, a bit off, ever since the woods.”
“I’m fine,” the warrior said. His tone was deliberately dismissive, but the elf ignored it, coming over to lean up against the rock next to him.
“The question is not merely idle curiosity,” Ravani said. “I want—I need—to make certain that you aren’t going to crack. We’re heading into a real danger here. What we’re going to face is likely to be more serious than a couple of idiots in red robes.”
“Those idiots managed to cut you pretty good.”
“Exactly my point,” the elf replied. “That lord, back at the castle, he was pretty blithe with all that talk about treasure, but I’ve listened into a lot of conversations since we’ve gotten here. This place, these caves, feature prominently in the local gossip. There could be goblins, hobgoblins, or worse there. Maybe this cult is there, and who knows, maybe they’re even something that we can handle. But we could be placing our heads onto a chopping block, and if one of us isn’t up to the task… well, that could lead to all of us getting killed.”
“If you’re afraid, then why did you agree to take the job?” the warrior asked. “We could have rejected it.”
Ravani shook his head. “You’re naïve, Grimdark. Do you think we really had a choice? Sure, we could have told Winvarle to go stuff himself. But that would have been the last job we could have gotten here. I’ve met lords like him before. They seem all friendly, hells, they’ll even pour you a cup of wine. But they’re all about control. If we’d given him the cold shoulder, the word would have gotten out on us. I guarantee it. After that, I doubt we’d have been able to get a job… collecting goats.”
“Everything all right?” Leana asked. She’d finished her prayer, and was brushing dust from her tunic as she came over to join them. Folgar still hadn’t returned.
Ravani looked at the warrior. “Is everything all right?” he asked.
“It’s fine. I’m fine.”
“Good,” the elf said. He pushed himself upright. “Guess I’d better find our dwarf companion before he gets eaten by a giant frog, eh?”
As he strolled off, Leana came over to the boulder. “Ravani talks a lot, but you can count on him in the clutch.”
“You’ve known him for long?”
The cleric shrugged. “A couple of weeks. But I like to think I’m a good judge of character.” She reached out and patted the warrior’s knee.
“Found him!” Ravani announced, as he emerged from the trees with Folgar in tow. The wizard looked even more frazzled than usual, as if he’d stumbled into a bush or something.
“We’d better get going,” Leana said. “I don’t know how long this is going to take, and I don’t want to be on this trail come nightfall.”
Ravani offered a slight bow, moving to take his place at the head of their little column. The others fell in behind him, the warrior last this time, as he spared one final glance out over the sparkling breadth of the river. He adjusted the lay of his sword across his back and let out a heavy sigh before trudging after his companions.
“The Caves of Chaos,” Folgar said, ominously.
The warrior looked at him before returning his gaze to the disturbing vista that stretched out before them. They’d approached through a dense forest of gnarled trees with roots that had tried to snag their boots as they passed through. The castellan’s advisor had been right, they’d seen the top of the ravine from the road, but once they’d cut through the woods they’d gotten an entirely different view of the place.
The rocky walls of the ravine rose at least a hundred feet above them to either side. Multiple caves were visible from their current vantage, at differing heights above them. Several were almost a stone’s throw from where they stood at ground level, one to the right and two adjacent to each other to the left. The floor of the ravine was carpeted by rocks and dead wood, but the warrior could also clearly see scattered bones, picked clean by scavengers. Several vultures were watching them from barren branches along the rim of the canyon, as if waiting for them to join those remains.
“Yeah, this isn’t creepy at all,” Ravani said.
“We need to find the headquarters of this cult,” Leana said.
“Suppose we should just start checking out caves,” Folgar said. “Do we want to go low, or high?”
“We should start close to the exit,” Ravani said. “I don’t like the idea of being caught with potential enemies behind us. For all we know, they have some kind of alarm system that rouses the whole place if they spot intruders.”
“All right then, left or right?” Folgar asked.
“Those two on the left offer more options… but there could be more trouble waiting for us.”
“Gods above, let’s just pick one,” Ravani said. “This way.”
The elf emerged from the tangled thicket that marked the edge of the woods and started toward the cave to the right. The others followed. The warrior felt his skin prickle and his stomach clench as they made their way into the open. There were at least a half a dozen caves, maybe more, and anything could have been lurking in those dark openings, watching them. He unslung his sword, keeping the sheathed steel in his grasp as they crept carefully through the detritus that choked the ravine floor.
Ravani gestured for them to hold back as he drew close to the mouth of the cave. There wasn’t much to it, just a tunnel made of hard-packed earth that led directly into the side of the ravine. There was an old, dead tree with sprawling limbs in front of it, it branches reaching out like broken fingers. The warrior shivered at the thought.
“Come on,” Leana said. The warrior turned back to see Ravani gesturing them forward. He followed the cleric and wizard to a spot just to the right of the entrance.
“What is it?” Leana whispered to Ravani.
“Listen,” the elf said.
All four of them leaned forward, their respective heights allowing them to fit together like some weird jigsaw puzzle against the side of the tunnel mouth. The warrior wasn’t sure what he was hearing; it sounded like high-pitched bickering, overtopped by a loud, bestial squeal.
“What is that?” he asked.
“Sounds like a couple of pigs trying to have relations with a seal,” Folgar said.
Ravani looked down at the dwarf and shook his head. “That… never mind,” he said. He backed away a step. “Whatever it is, it doesn’t sound like cultists to me.”
“Whoever it is, they probably know more about these caves,” Leana said. “It would be better to gain some intelligence about the cult and its operations before we run into them.”
“We’re not going to learn anything if we stumble into a trap,” Ravani said. “Let’s just think about this for a moment.”
“The longer we stand out here, the more likely someone will see us,” Folgar noted.
“Let me just take a quick look,” the warrior said. He stepped forward into the cave entrance. As the others turned to watch him, Ravani suddenly held up a hand. “No, wait—”
But the warning came too late as the ground suddenly fell away under the warrior’s boot, and he plummeted face-first into a pit.
Game Notes:
This update is a tribute to every “planning discussion” that ever took place right outside a dungeon entrance.
They set off early the next morning. True to his word, Winvarle had a package delivered to the inn: a leather satchel containing a week’s worth of non-perishable foodstuffs, a quiver of extra arrows, and the potion. The warrior examined it curiously; he’d heard of such things, of course, but he’d never seen one before. The bright red liquid seemed to sparkle within its glass vial. They agreed that Ravani would carry it, since he was fast enough to get to someone who needed it in a hurry.
“How does it work?” the warrior had asked as he handed it over.
“Magic,” the elf said with a wink.
They had a brief encounter on the road, while the keep was still visible about half a mile behind them. On hearing a soft crunch within the bushes alongside the road the warrior had reached for his sword, but the source of the sound turned out to be a solitary hunter rather than bandits. The hunter was a dwarf named Haldryck, who the others recognized; apparently he was the local innkeeper, out hunting game for that evening’s stew. He carried a huge crossbow that he slung on seeing the adventurers.
“Bah, I was stalking a fine old elk, and you scared him off with all your clomping about,” the dwarf said. He gave the warrior an evaluative look. “Got yourselves a fighter, did you?”
“Indeed, Master Haldryck,” Leana said. “We’re heading east today, to the Caves of Chaos. Have you heard of them?”
The dwarf visibly blanched, and he made a sign against evil, touching his brow, lips, and heart with his thumb. “I know enough to stay away from that fell place,” he said. “I’d wish you good fortune, but folks that go looking for trouble need more than Lady Luck’s blessing.”
“Well, fortunately we have a cleric with us,” Ravani said, but the words were spoken to the dwarf’s back, as he hastily retreated down the trail. “Well, that wasn’t at all ominous,” he said to the others.
“He was genuinely scared,” Leana said.
“Maybe some of the people in the Keep know more than they’re letting on about this cult,” Folgar suggested. “Somebody put that mark on the side of the temple that you told us about, Leana.”
“Let’s stick to the matter at hand,” the halfling said. “We’ve still got a long walk ahead of us.”
The castellan’s advisor, Elandra, had told them that the caves were about three miles from the Keep, and that they should be able to see the steep-sided ravine where they were located from the trail. They kept a brisk pace, though they remained alert for any threats. After about a mile, they came to one of the bends of the river, with the fens stretching out into the distance on the other side. They’d covered only a tiny fraction it in their previous explorations, the warrior realized. Off in the distance, he could see hills covered in trees rising out of the sodden lowlands. That would be the Tamarack Stand, one of the regions that Dweck had noted in his book. Cornflower had mentioned something about that place the other night, but he hadn’t been listening closely and couldn’t remember what it was.
“Need to take a piss,” Folgar announced. He dropped his pack unceremoniously onto the dirt of the trail and stepped off behind some nearby trees.
“Let’s all take a moment,” Leana said. “Stay hydrated, and stretch your muscles.”
The warrior walked over to a slanted boulder that jutted out from the muddy shore into the river. He leaned against it and took out his water flask. To his surprise, he noticed that Ravani had followed him. Leana was kneeling on the water’s edge, probably offering a prayer to her god.
“How are you doing, Grimbo?” the elf asked. “You’ve seemed… well, a bit off, ever since the woods.”
“I’m fine,” the warrior said. His tone was deliberately dismissive, but the elf ignored it, coming over to lean up against the rock next to him.
“The question is not merely idle curiosity,” Ravani said. “I want—I need—to make certain that you aren’t going to crack. We’re heading into a real danger here. What we’re going to face is likely to be more serious than a couple of idiots in red robes.”
“Those idiots managed to cut you pretty good.”
“Exactly my point,” the elf replied. “That lord, back at the castle, he was pretty blithe with all that talk about treasure, but I’ve listened into a lot of conversations since we’ve gotten here. This place, these caves, feature prominently in the local gossip. There could be goblins, hobgoblins, or worse there. Maybe this cult is there, and who knows, maybe they’re even something that we can handle. But we could be placing our heads onto a chopping block, and if one of us isn’t up to the task… well, that could lead to all of us getting killed.”
“If you’re afraid, then why did you agree to take the job?” the warrior asked. “We could have rejected it.”
Ravani shook his head. “You’re naïve, Grimdark. Do you think we really had a choice? Sure, we could have told Winvarle to go stuff himself. But that would have been the last job we could have gotten here. I’ve met lords like him before. They seem all friendly, hells, they’ll even pour you a cup of wine. But they’re all about control. If we’d given him the cold shoulder, the word would have gotten out on us. I guarantee it. After that, I doubt we’d have been able to get a job… collecting goats.”
“Everything all right?” Leana asked. She’d finished her prayer, and was brushing dust from her tunic as she came over to join them. Folgar still hadn’t returned.
Ravani looked at the warrior. “Is everything all right?” he asked.
“It’s fine. I’m fine.”
“Good,” the elf said. He pushed himself upright. “Guess I’d better find our dwarf companion before he gets eaten by a giant frog, eh?”
As he strolled off, Leana came over to the boulder. “Ravani talks a lot, but you can count on him in the clutch.”
“You’ve known him for long?”
The cleric shrugged. “A couple of weeks. But I like to think I’m a good judge of character.” She reached out and patted the warrior’s knee.
“Found him!” Ravani announced, as he emerged from the trees with Folgar in tow. The wizard looked even more frazzled than usual, as if he’d stumbled into a bush or something.
“We’d better get going,” Leana said. “I don’t know how long this is going to take, and I don’t want to be on this trail come nightfall.”
Ravani offered a slight bow, moving to take his place at the head of their little column. The others fell in behind him, the warrior last this time, as he spared one final glance out over the sparkling breadth of the river. He adjusted the lay of his sword across his back and let out a heavy sigh before trudging after his companions.
* * *
“The Caves of Chaos,” Folgar said, ominously.
The warrior looked at him before returning his gaze to the disturbing vista that stretched out before them. They’d approached through a dense forest of gnarled trees with roots that had tried to snag their boots as they passed through. The castellan’s advisor had been right, they’d seen the top of the ravine from the road, but once they’d cut through the woods they’d gotten an entirely different view of the place.
The rocky walls of the ravine rose at least a hundred feet above them to either side. Multiple caves were visible from their current vantage, at differing heights above them. Several were almost a stone’s throw from where they stood at ground level, one to the right and two adjacent to each other to the left. The floor of the ravine was carpeted by rocks and dead wood, but the warrior could also clearly see scattered bones, picked clean by scavengers. Several vultures were watching them from barren branches along the rim of the canyon, as if waiting for them to join those remains.
“Yeah, this isn’t creepy at all,” Ravani said.
“We need to find the headquarters of this cult,” Leana said.
“Suppose we should just start checking out caves,” Folgar said. “Do we want to go low, or high?”
“We should start close to the exit,” Ravani said. “I don’t like the idea of being caught with potential enemies behind us. For all we know, they have some kind of alarm system that rouses the whole place if they spot intruders.”
“All right then, left or right?” Folgar asked.
“Those two on the left offer more options… but there could be more trouble waiting for us.”
“Gods above, let’s just pick one,” Ravani said. “This way.”
The elf emerged from the tangled thicket that marked the edge of the woods and started toward the cave to the right. The others followed. The warrior felt his skin prickle and his stomach clench as they made their way into the open. There were at least a half a dozen caves, maybe more, and anything could have been lurking in those dark openings, watching them. He unslung his sword, keeping the sheathed steel in his grasp as they crept carefully through the detritus that choked the ravine floor.
Ravani gestured for them to hold back as he drew close to the mouth of the cave. There wasn’t much to it, just a tunnel made of hard-packed earth that led directly into the side of the ravine. There was an old, dead tree with sprawling limbs in front of it, it branches reaching out like broken fingers. The warrior shivered at the thought.
“Come on,” Leana said. The warrior turned back to see Ravani gesturing them forward. He followed the cleric and wizard to a spot just to the right of the entrance.
“What is it?” Leana whispered to Ravani.
“Listen,” the elf said.
All four of them leaned forward, their respective heights allowing them to fit together like some weird jigsaw puzzle against the side of the tunnel mouth. The warrior wasn’t sure what he was hearing; it sounded like high-pitched bickering, overtopped by a loud, bestial squeal.
“What is that?” he asked.
“Sounds like a couple of pigs trying to have relations with a seal,” Folgar said.
Ravani looked down at the dwarf and shook his head. “That… never mind,” he said. He backed away a step. “Whatever it is, it doesn’t sound like cultists to me.”
“Whoever it is, they probably know more about these caves,” Leana said. “It would be better to gain some intelligence about the cult and its operations before we run into them.”
“We’re not going to learn anything if we stumble into a trap,” Ravani said. “Let’s just think about this for a moment.”
“The longer we stand out here, the more likely someone will see us,” Folgar noted.
“Let me just take a quick look,” the warrior said. He stepped forward into the cave entrance. As the others turned to watch him, Ravani suddenly held up a hand. “No, wait—”
But the warning came too late as the ground suddenly fell away under the warrior’s boot, and he plummeted face-first into a pit.
Game Notes:
This update is a tribute to every “planning discussion” that ever took place right outside a dungeon entrance.
Lazybones
Hero
I’m a few posts ahead in the story now, and I think I’ll go to an every-other-day schedule for posting chapters. I am not planning on having the party visit every single cave, but they’ll definitely need to get to third level before taking on the cult (assuming they survive that long).
Chapter 12
The warrior landed heavily at the bottom of the pit, the impact knocking the air from his lungs. Thankfully that floor was only packed earth and not hard stone, but something in his back still twinged painfully as he pushed himself up.
He looked up to see a small, reptilian creature about the size of Leana looking down at him. The thing stood upright, wore a tattered tunic over its scaled torso, and it carried what looked like an old kitchen knife tucked through the piece of rope that served it as a belt.
He was somewhat surprised when its mouth opened and it said, in perfectly understandable Common, “Got you!”
Ravani appeared on the far side of the pit with his bow strung and an arrow drawn. The little monster let out a chirp of alarm, but before either could act Leana stepped forward and placed a hand on the elf’s arm, forcing him to lower the bow. “Hello,” she said. “We’re not going to hurt you.”
The warrior pushed himself to his feet, ignoring more twinges in his arms and legs. The pit was only about ten feet deep, and he could now see that its walls were run through with cracks that should offer easy handholds, assuming they supported his weight. The creature looked down at him as he stood, but remarkably it was holding its ground in the face of what must have looked like bad odds.
Unless there are another dozen of them around the corner, he thought.
“What you want?” the creature asked.
“We’re cave inspectors,” Ravani said. “Sent by Central Cave Command. We’re going to need access to this entire place.”
The creature just blinked at them. Leana clicked her tongue in annoyance and said, “We mean you no harm. My name is Leana. What’s yours?”
The creature seemed to consider for a moment. “Spurt,” it finally said.
“Spurt,” Ravani said, in a tone that the warrior knew all too well. The elf still held his bow, keeping the arrow half-taut against the string, but for now the missile was pointed at the ground.
Leana ignored him. She glanced down at the warrior, offering a covert gesture with her hand telling him to stay put for the moment. “We’re looking for some cultists, humans or others wearing red robes,” she said to the creature. “Have you seen anyone like that?”
“None of them here,” Spurt said. “Just many-legs. Many-legs bad.”
“Many legs, could be spiders,” Ravani said.
“Maybe some kind of infestation,” Leana returned.
“He’s not going to know what that word means,” Ravani said dryly.
The creature stomped his foot. “Spurt know! Many-legs bad!”
Thus far the background noises of muted argument had continued, along with the occasional squeal, but the warrior figured someone was bound to come along if this exchange continued for long. Leana apparently had the same thought, for she said, “What if we take care of the many-legs for you? Maybe then we could talk to your leaders about what else is in these caves?”
The creature thought about it for a moment, then nodded. “Okay,” it said.
Getting across the pit—which covered the full width of the tunnel, and was about ten feet across—took only a few moments. Leana simply took a few steps back and leapt over it, landing next to Spurt, who seemed unfazed. Ravani and Folgar were more cautious; the warrior helped each of them down into the pit and then boosted them out on the far side before climbing up after them. They found themselves in a long hallway that opened into a room off to the left, and curved out of sight to the right. The continuing sounds of bickering came from the latter direction. There was a small alcove directly ahead of them to the right, where Spurt had apparently been keeping watch over the entrance to the cave.
“What are your friends fighting about?” Leana asked their new friend.
“What to do with dragon,” Spurt said.
“Dragon?” all three of the men asked, at almost the exact same instant.
“Yes,” Spurt said. “Many legs there,” he said, pointing toward the room to their left. The warrior looked that way, but couldn’t see much as the diffuse light that made it in from the entrance faded out.
“Hold on, let me get my lantern,” the warrior said. He started to shrug off his pack, but Leana said, “No need.” She gestured and lifted her sigil, which began to glow with a warm, steady light.
“Bright!” Spurt said, holding up a hand to shield his eyes.
“Oh, sorry,” Leana said. She wrapped her hand around the sigil, shielding part of the glow. “Is this better?”
“Better,” the creature said.
“What kind of thing is that?” the warrior whispered to Folgar.
“Kobold,” the dwarf replied.
“Are they usually friendly? Trustworthy? Accompanying dragons?”
“No, no, and I don’t know,” Folgar whispered. “But we need to trust Leana’s lead on this. She’s right, we need information, and it's better to avoid fights when we can.”
Leana was asking the kobold a few more questions, but Spurt either didn’t know much, or wasn’t willing to share until they had completed the promised task of dealing with the “many-legs.” The creature said that there were “at least two” of the things in the room ahead, but the warrior did not find that reassuring.
“Okay, let’s check it out,” Ravani said. “You first, Muscles.”
“Don’t rush in,” Leana said, as she took up position at his side. “Let them come to us.”
Spurt remained back at the shelter of the alcove as they carefully advanced to the edge of the room. Leana spread her fingers as they entered the place, her light revealing more of the details of the chamber. There wasn’t much to it, an irregular shape roughly thirty feet square, littered with heaps of trash and waste.
The light was also sufficient to reveal two centipedes the size of dogs that were crawling over the piles of refuse. As the glow reached them, the two bugs let out loud chittering sounds and rushed toward the adventurers.
Game Notes
“Spurt” is another tribute, of course (if you’ve never heard the name before, I recommend https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NPSXn7luu5c).
Ravani: Charisma (Deception): 10 (+4): 14 vs. DC 10 (Success)
Leana: Charisma (Persuasion): 15 (+2): 17 vs. DC 10 (Success)
Chapter 12
The warrior landed heavily at the bottom of the pit, the impact knocking the air from his lungs. Thankfully that floor was only packed earth and not hard stone, but something in his back still twinged painfully as he pushed himself up.
He looked up to see a small, reptilian creature about the size of Leana looking down at him. The thing stood upright, wore a tattered tunic over its scaled torso, and it carried what looked like an old kitchen knife tucked through the piece of rope that served it as a belt.
He was somewhat surprised when its mouth opened and it said, in perfectly understandable Common, “Got you!”
Ravani appeared on the far side of the pit with his bow strung and an arrow drawn. The little monster let out a chirp of alarm, but before either could act Leana stepped forward and placed a hand on the elf’s arm, forcing him to lower the bow. “Hello,” she said. “We’re not going to hurt you.”
The warrior pushed himself to his feet, ignoring more twinges in his arms and legs. The pit was only about ten feet deep, and he could now see that its walls were run through with cracks that should offer easy handholds, assuming they supported his weight. The creature looked down at him as he stood, but remarkably it was holding its ground in the face of what must have looked like bad odds.
Unless there are another dozen of them around the corner, he thought.
“What you want?” the creature asked.
“We’re cave inspectors,” Ravani said. “Sent by Central Cave Command. We’re going to need access to this entire place.”
The creature just blinked at them. Leana clicked her tongue in annoyance and said, “We mean you no harm. My name is Leana. What’s yours?”
The creature seemed to consider for a moment. “Spurt,” it finally said.
“Spurt,” Ravani said, in a tone that the warrior knew all too well. The elf still held his bow, keeping the arrow half-taut against the string, but for now the missile was pointed at the ground.
Leana ignored him. She glanced down at the warrior, offering a covert gesture with her hand telling him to stay put for the moment. “We’re looking for some cultists, humans or others wearing red robes,” she said to the creature. “Have you seen anyone like that?”
“None of them here,” Spurt said. “Just many-legs. Many-legs bad.”
“Many legs, could be spiders,” Ravani said.
“Maybe some kind of infestation,” Leana returned.
“He’s not going to know what that word means,” Ravani said dryly.
The creature stomped his foot. “Spurt know! Many-legs bad!”
Thus far the background noises of muted argument had continued, along with the occasional squeal, but the warrior figured someone was bound to come along if this exchange continued for long. Leana apparently had the same thought, for she said, “What if we take care of the many-legs for you? Maybe then we could talk to your leaders about what else is in these caves?”
The creature thought about it for a moment, then nodded. “Okay,” it said.
* * *
Getting across the pit—which covered the full width of the tunnel, and was about ten feet across—took only a few moments. Leana simply took a few steps back and leapt over it, landing next to Spurt, who seemed unfazed. Ravani and Folgar were more cautious; the warrior helped each of them down into the pit and then boosted them out on the far side before climbing up after them. They found themselves in a long hallway that opened into a room off to the left, and curved out of sight to the right. The continuing sounds of bickering came from the latter direction. There was a small alcove directly ahead of them to the right, where Spurt had apparently been keeping watch over the entrance to the cave.
“What are your friends fighting about?” Leana asked their new friend.
“What to do with dragon,” Spurt said.
“Dragon?” all three of the men asked, at almost the exact same instant.
“Yes,” Spurt said. “Many legs there,” he said, pointing toward the room to their left. The warrior looked that way, but couldn’t see much as the diffuse light that made it in from the entrance faded out.
“Hold on, let me get my lantern,” the warrior said. He started to shrug off his pack, but Leana said, “No need.” She gestured and lifted her sigil, which began to glow with a warm, steady light.
“Bright!” Spurt said, holding up a hand to shield his eyes.
“Oh, sorry,” Leana said. She wrapped her hand around the sigil, shielding part of the glow. “Is this better?”
“Better,” the creature said.
“What kind of thing is that?” the warrior whispered to Folgar.
“Kobold,” the dwarf replied.
“Are they usually friendly? Trustworthy? Accompanying dragons?”
“No, no, and I don’t know,” Folgar whispered. “But we need to trust Leana’s lead on this. She’s right, we need information, and it's better to avoid fights when we can.”
Leana was asking the kobold a few more questions, but Spurt either didn’t know much, or wasn’t willing to share until they had completed the promised task of dealing with the “many-legs.” The creature said that there were “at least two” of the things in the room ahead, but the warrior did not find that reassuring.
“Okay, let’s check it out,” Ravani said. “You first, Muscles.”
“Don’t rush in,” Leana said, as she took up position at his side. “Let them come to us.”
Spurt remained back at the shelter of the alcove as they carefully advanced to the edge of the room. Leana spread her fingers as they entered the place, her light revealing more of the details of the chamber. There wasn’t much to it, an irregular shape roughly thirty feet square, littered with heaps of trash and waste.
The light was also sufficient to reveal two centipedes the size of dogs that were crawling over the piles of refuse. As the glow reached them, the two bugs let out loud chittering sounds and rushed toward the adventurers.
Game Notes
“Spurt” is another tribute, of course (if you’ve never heard the name before, I recommend https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NPSXn7luu5c).
Ravani: Charisma (Deception): 10 (+4): 14 vs. DC 10 (Success)
Leana: Charisma (Persuasion): 15 (+2): 17 vs. DC 10 (Success)
Lazybones
Hero
Chapter 13
The first giant centipede staggered as it was blasted by one of Folgar’s magic missiles. It tried to evade the rest of them, but there was no escaping the arcane darts as they slammed into the monster, blasting it into pieces.
The second bug kept on coming, its body undulating as it shot across the room. The warrior felt his guts twisting at the sight of the thing; he could remember stomping normal-sized centipedes in the barn back home, but this thing seemed like something out of a nightmare. He remembered Leana’s words and waited for it to get close before he slammed his sword down. But the centipede proved quite agile, and it twisted out of the way, losing just a couple of legs on one side as the sword bit hard into the packed earth floor of the room.
His companions were attacking as well, but their initial assault was ineffective. Leana threw some kind of magic at it; the warrior heard a dull ringing sound that thrummed through the chamber. But if it had any effect on the monster, he couldn’t see it. Ravani remained back behind the line with Folgar; as the centipede twisted away from the greatsword the elf dropped into a low crouch and fired an arrow through the warrior’s legs. But the shot just missed it, vanishing into one of the refuse piles on the far side of the room.
The centipede rose up and lunged at the warrior’s legs. He let out a startled squeal and jerked back just before it could work its jaws through the leather of his boot. “Careful!” Ravani warned, as the two nearly collided.
Folgar stepped to the side and fired a beam of white frost at the centipede. The icy ray did briefly catch its back quarters, but it didn’t seem to have much effect either. The warrior swept his sword at the thing, trying to keep it off him, but the wild swing merely caromed off its hard shell, cracking it but not doing anything to stop its attack. Leana came up behind it with her mace, but even as she swung it jerked to the side, avoiding both that attack and a second arrow from Ravani.
“I think we’ve pissed it off!” Ravani said.
The centipede rose up again, and the warrior tensed, expecting another lunge. But the monster abruptly twisted its entire body, shooting backwards at Leana. The cleric’s eyes widened and she tried to fend if off with her mace, but she couldn’t stop it from plunging its fangs into her chest, piercing through the links of her mail shirt and dragging her roughly to the ground. She cried out as the creature’s body fell onto hers, and it tried to work its jaws deeper into her flesh.
Folgar rushed up, his left hand surrounded by a glow of sparking flashes, but the tail of the wildly twisting centipede snapped up and clipped him hard on the elbow, knocking him aside before he could unleash his magic. The warrior lifted his sword but hesitated; if he missed the centipede he could easily hit Leana. Instead he fell to his knees, sliding the sword between the halfling and as much of the bug as he could reach. Grabbing onto the hilt and blade, ignoring the jolt of pain as the edge sliced through his glove, he yanked upward. For a moment the centipede’s outer shell resisted the steel, but then with a sudden soft squelch the thing came apart. Guts and dark blue blood spurted all over him and Leana. The warrior’s expression twisted with disgust as he tossed the creature’s body aside. He started to reach for the head, but Folgar forestalled him with a raised hand as he knelt beside them.
“Don’t, you’ll tear the wound,” the dwarf said. He took out a small bag from his satchel, and pulled out a small, slightly hooked knife that he used to extract the creature’s fangs from Leana’s chest. The halfling moaned and twitched. “Something’s wrong with her,” the warrior said.
“She’s been poisoned,” Folgar said. “Just give me a moment… ah.” The centipede’s head came away, and the dwarf tossed it aside. He took a small vial out of his bag and spread a fine powder from it over the wound. The warrior had to look away as the wizard treated the injury.
“It doesn’t look like there are any more of them,” Ravani said, returning from a quick examination of the refuse piles. “Is she…”
“I’m fine,” Leana said, though she didn’t try to move as Folgar finished bandaging her wound. “Thank you,” she said to him. “To all of you. That was… something new. Yes, I think I’d rather prefer avoiding a repeat of that experience.”
“I couldn’t hit it,” the warrior said.
“None of us could,” Ravani said with disgust. “We defeated four cultists, and a bloody bug nearly killed one of us.”
“An important lesson to remember,” Folgar said.
“Why didn’t you hit it with more of those missiles?” the warrior asked. “You killed that first one easily enough.”
The dwarf bristled, pointing a finger up at his chest. “When I advise you on the proper utilization of that bloody cleaver of yours, then you can tell me about…”
“Gentlemen,” Leana said. “This is neither the time nor the place for this conversation. I would guess that the sounds of this combat have alerted the other residents of this place to our presence.” They all stopped to listen, and the sounds of bickering they’d heard before had indeed vanished. “Grimdark, the magic that both Folgar and I command is limited. We can use lesser magics, called cantrips, an unlimited number of times, but spells like his magic missile require a greater expenditure of energy. There is a limit to the number of times per day we can use them, so it is important to be conservative in their use. Now, help me up.”
“Maybe you’d better rest for another minute or two,” the warrior suggested.
“We might not have another minute or two,” she replied. She accepted Ravani’s hand, and his help pulling her to her feet. She looked a bit unsteady, but remained upright when he released her. “Spurt? Are you still there? The many-legs are dead.”
They all looked back into the corridor. After a moment, the kobold’s head peeked around the bend. Seeing them all alive, he came forward enough to peer into the room. At the sight of the decapitated centipede, he let out an eager chirrup and rushed ahead. Drawing his knife, he speared the creature’s twitching body and held it up. He could barely manage the weight of it. “Many-legs dead!” he exclaimed.
“Yes,” Leana said. “Maybe you could take us to meet with the rest of your people, before they get too nervous about possible intruders into their home.”
“Yes! I take!” Spurt said. Holding the dead centipede before him like a trophy, he led the way down the tunnel. After a wary look between them, the adventurers followed.
Game Notes
The centipede fight was a true comedy of errors; nobody could get a hit. Fortunately that included the centipede, at least until that last attack on Leana (which did 6 damage). Grimdark could not manage to roll higher than a 4 with his three attacks, but he finally Grazed it to death. At this rate, his weapon mastery is probably going to end up inflicting the most damage over the course of this campaign.
The first giant centipede staggered as it was blasted by one of Folgar’s magic missiles. It tried to evade the rest of them, but there was no escaping the arcane darts as they slammed into the monster, blasting it into pieces.
The second bug kept on coming, its body undulating as it shot across the room. The warrior felt his guts twisting at the sight of the thing; he could remember stomping normal-sized centipedes in the barn back home, but this thing seemed like something out of a nightmare. He remembered Leana’s words and waited for it to get close before he slammed his sword down. But the centipede proved quite agile, and it twisted out of the way, losing just a couple of legs on one side as the sword bit hard into the packed earth floor of the room.
His companions were attacking as well, but their initial assault was ineffective. Leana threw some kind of magic at it; the warrior heard a dull ringing sound that thrummed through the chamber. But if it had any effect on the monster, he couldn’t see it. Ravani remained back behind the line with Folgar; as the centipede twisted away from the greatsword the elf dropped into a low crouch and fired an arrow through the warrior’s legs. But the shot just missed it, vanishing into one of the refuse piles on the far side of the room.
The centipede rose up and lunged at the warrior’s legs. He let out a startled squeal and jerked back just before it could work its jaws through the leather of his boot. “Careful!” Ravani warned, as the two nearly collided.
Folgar stepped to the side and fired a beam of white frost at the centipede. The icy ray did briefly catch its back quarters, but it didn’t seem to have much effect either. The warrior swept his sword at the thing, trying to keep it off him, but the wild swing merely caromed off its hard shell, cracking it but not doing anything to stop its attack. Leana came up behind it with her mace, but even as she swung it jerked to the side, avoiding both that attack and a second arrow from Ravani.
“I think we’ve pissed it off!” Ravani said.
The centipede rose up again, and the warrior tensed, expecting another lunge. But the monster abruptly twisted its entire body, shooting backwards at Leana. The cleric’s eyes widened and she tried to fend if off with her mace, but she couldn’t stop it from plunging its fangs into her chest, piercing through the links of her mail shirt and dragging her roughly to the ground. She cried out as the creature’s body fell onto hers, and it tried to work its jaws deeper into her flesh.
Folgar rushed up, his left hand surrounded by a glow of sparking flashes, but the tail of the wildly twisting centipede snapped up and clipped him hard on the elbow, knocking him aside before he could unleash his magic. The warrior lifted his sword but hesitated; if he missed the centipede he could easily hit Leana. Instead he fell to his knees, sliding the sword between the halfling and as much of the bug as he could reach. Grabbing onto the hilt and blade, ignoring the jolt of pain as the edge sliced through his glove, he yanked upward. For a moment the centipede’s outer shell resisted the steel, but then with a sudden soft squelch the thing came apart. Guts and dark blue blood spurted all over him and Leana. The warrior’s expression twisted with disgust as he tossed the creature’s body aside. He started to reach for the head, but Folgar forestalled him with a raised hand as he knelt beside them.
“Don’t, you’ll tear the wound,” the dwarf said. He took out a small bag from his satchel, and pulled out a small, slightly hooked knife that he used to extract the creature’s fangs from Leana’s chest. The halfling moaned and twitched. “Something’s wrong with her,” the warrior said.
“She’s been poisoned,” Folgar said. “Just give me a moment… ah.” The centipede’s head came away, and the dwarf tossed it aside. He took a small vial out of his bag and spread a fine powder from it over the wound. The warrior had to look away as the wizard treated the injury.
“It doesn’t look like there are any more of them,” Ravani said, returning from a quick examination of the refuse piles. “Is she…”
“I’m fine,” Leana said, though she didn’t try to move as Folgar finished bandaging her wound. “Thank you,” she said to him. “To all of you. That was… something new. Yes, I think I’d rather prefer avoiding a repeat of that experience.”
“I couldn’t hit it,” the warrior said.
“None of us could,” Ravani said with disgust. “We defeated four cultists, and a bloody bug nearly killed one of us.”
“An important lesson to remember,” Folgar said.
“Why didn’t you hit it with more of those missiles?” the warrior asked. “You killed that first one easily enough.”
The dwarf bristled, pointing a finger up at his chest. “When I advise you on the proper utilization of that bloody cleaver of yours, then you can tell me about…”
“Gentlemen,” Leana said. “This is neither the time nor the place for this conversation. I would guess that the sounds of this combat have alerted the other residents of this place to our presence.” They all stopped to listen, and the sounds of bickering they’d heard before had indeed vanished. “Grimdark, the magic that both Folgar and I command is limited. We can use lesser magics, called cantrips, an unlimited number of times, but spells like his magic missile require a greater expenditure of energy. There is a limit to the number of times per day we can use them, so it is important to be conservative in their use. Now, help me up.”
“Maybe you’d better rest for another minute or two,” the warrior suggested.
“We might not have another minute or two,” she replied. She accepted Ravani’s hand, and his help pulling her to her feet. She looked a bit unsteady, but remained upright when he released her. “Spurt? Are you still there? The many-legs are dead.”
They all looked back into the corridor. After a moment, the kobold’s head peeked around the bend. Seeing them all alive, he came forward enough to peer into the room. At the sight of the decapitated centipede, he let out an eager chirrup and rushed ahead. Drawing his knife, he speared the creature’s twitching body and held it up. He could barely manage the weight of it. “Many-legs dead!” he exclaimed.
“Yes,” Leana said. “Maybe you could take us to meet with the rest of your people, before they get too nervous about possible intruders into their home.”
“Yes! I take!” Spurt said. Holding the dead centipede before him like a trophy, he led the way down the tunnel. After a wary look between them, the adventurers followed.
Game Notes
The centipede fight was a true comedy of errors; nobody could get a hit. Fortunately that included the centipede, at least until that last attack on Leana (which did 6 damage). Grimdark could not manage to roll higher than a 4 with his three attacks, but he finally Grazed it to death. At this rate, his weapon mastery is probably going to end up inflicting the most damage over the course of this campaign.
Neurotic
I plan on living forever. Or die trying.
Lazybones
Hero
Heh, no worries. I never really got into 4e (never actually played it with a live group). I eventually adapted that story into a series of novels called The Colors of Fate, and I think it got better for having removed all of the D&D aspects.Actually, wherever you see Lazybones storyhour, read it4e is the weakest of all of them and still good (sorry LB) - I don't know the story it might be the best he could do with it
Question for the readers: I’ve already selected the adventurers’ next cave, and we know that they’re going to end up fighting the cultists, but which of the level 2 caves would you like to see them explore? Post your suggestions here; I’ve got about a week until I’ll need to decide.
* * *
Chapter 14
“How is your hand?” Leana asked.
The warrior looked down; he’d entirely forgotten about the cut. “It’s nothing,” he said.
“I’ll want to look at it later,” she chided. “Even a small wound can become a problem if allowed to become infected.”
He swallowed what he was going to say and looked ahead to where Spurt was eagerly gesturing them forward using the centipede. The thing’s legs continued to twitch when he moved it. He didn’t know how she could be so calm, having almost been killed by that thing, but he found that her calm helped steady his own nerves.
“Tribe right up here!” Spurt called from ahead, gesturing toward another room that became visible ahead in the glow of Leana’s light. The spell had continued to function even during her brush with death. “Come on, they welcome!”
“Let’s hope that Spurt’s kinfolk are as credulous as he is,” Ravani muttered under his breath.
“Hush,” Leana said.
Spurt rushed into the room. The others hesitated, but after a moment the kobold popped back and gestured. “Come, come!” The warrior, holding his sheathed sword in both hands, shifted his grip and followed the others forward.
The room was maybe slightly larger than the last one, but also irregularly shaped. A large alcove to the right was filled with simple beds made of straw. A pile of junk in the center of the room was flanked by five kobolds, all dressed and armed similarly to Spurt, who was holding up the impaled centipede and chattering to them in his own language. The sound was almost exactly the same as the high-pitched arguing they’d overheard before.
The kobold in the middle of the formation seemed to be the leader. “You want know about caves?” she asked the group.
“That’s right,” Leana said. “We’ve come here seeking out some bad people who have been threatening us. Cultists…”
“Bandits?” the kobold asked.
“Sort of like that,” Leana said. “They wear red robes.”
The kobolds exchanged some words in their language. The leader opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted by a loud, ear-piercing cry that came from another alcove to the left. The kobolds all winced slightly at the intensity of the sound, but did not otherwise react. The warrior shifted reflexively to the right to get a better look, and saw that there was a door in the back of the alcove that was slightly open. The cry must have come from whatever was behind it.
The leader waited until the echoes of the cry had faded, then held up a hand. “We help. But first, you tame dragon.”
“Wait, what?” Ravani said.
* * *
The stone door ground open as the warrior put his shoulder to it. The doorway was low enough that he would have to duck his head to fit through it. He was completely aware of his companions all arrayed behind him, and behind them, all six kobolds, watching expectantly. But his focus was on the space ahead, where the loud shrieks had continued during their “negotiation” with the kobolds.
They’d let Leana take the lead. The cleric seemed committed to a peaceful settlement with these kobolds, although the warrior was starting to have his doubts. The kobolds had insisted that the dragon was “just a baby,” and not a real threat, but even he had been able to see how tense—and afraid—they were. The leader—who called himself “Dirx”—said that they’d found the egg, and had no idea where it had come from.
The warrior pushed the door as far open as he could, then ducked his head through the entry. As the light from Leana’s amulet spilled into the space, the constant sounds of distress abruptly stopped. The warrior blinked, trying to resist the urge to unsling his sword. He’d put it back across his back at Leana’s insistence, but he couldn’t help but think of every story of fire-breathing dragons that he’d ever heard.
None of the stories could have prepared him for what he saw. The room wasn’t very big, maybe twenty feet by twenty-five, cluttered with an assortment of barrels and sacks that contained dried meats and other foodstuffs, from the medley of smells that greeted him. Two kobolds were here, facing the far corner, but they drew back as he entered. As they withdrew he could clearly see the small mound of eggshell fragments, bits of gear, and coins in that corner, and sitting atop that…
It was definitely a dragon, though not like any dragon the warrior had ever imagined. It was maybe the size of Folgar, although its stubby wings and tail added to its impression of size. It had bright copper scales that deepened to a soft green under its wings and down its belly. At the moment it was watching him intently, its large green-gray eyes blinking against Leana’s light. It saw the hilt of the sword jutting up from over his shoulder and let out a cautionary growl.
Then Leana moved into the room, and she clasped her hands to her chest. “Oh, aren’t you the most adorable thing ever!”
Both the warrior and the dragon blinked in surprise as she rushed over to the creature. It let out a confused sound as she wrapped her arms around its neck, then rubbed it under its jaw. “Oh, you are just a baby, aren’t you? Oh, you must be so confused at waking up here, with these kobolds…”
“We give money,” one of the kobolds in the room said, pointing to the makeshift “horde” that they’d created amidst the mess of the dragon’s broken egg. “Dragon like money.”
“Oh, he just wants his mother,” Leana said. She kept rubbing the dragon’s head, which the creature seemed to accept, though the warrior couldn’t help but notice that its jaws were large enough to engulf the halfling’s entire head. “Ravani, Folgar, come in here and see this fine fellow!”
The others advanced into the room cautiously. The two kobolds looked back warily, but on seeing their comrades in the outer room watching, they didn’t make any protest. Ravani sidled forward along the edge of the room, scanning the bits of treasure scattered around the dragon. The creature noticed and sent him a wary growl that had him backing up, his hands raised.
“Oh, don’t be rude,” she said to both the elf and the wyrmling. “Now. What’s your name, child?”
The warrior was perplexed, but that turned into complete shock when the dragon said, in perfectly understandable Common, “Don’t know. Mother tell.”
“Of course, of course,” Leana said. “She must be absolutely a wreck right now.” She turned back to the door and gestured. “Dirx, come in here.” When the kobold leader failed to immediately materialize, she repeated his name, more firmly. Finally the kobold appeared, sticking his head into the doorway.
“Dirx, you cannot keep this dragon,” she said. “He belongs with his mother.”
“Dragon protect us,” the kobold insisted. “We take care, raise good.”
“This is definitely a new one,” Ravani muttered. Leana shot him a warning look, then said to the kobolds, “I understand you might have had good motivations. But you did not think this through. Consider first that this dragon is going to grow big, very big. You have a nice little larder here, but he’s going to need a lot of food, so much food that gathering it will be a full-time job for all eight of you. Second, it’s an intelligent creature, and it clearly doesn’t want to be here.”
“We treat good,” Dirx insisted. “Give food, money.”
“Yes, I’m sure you would,” Leana said. “But there’s a third point. Dragons—especially metallic dragons—are very protective of their young. I’m sure this little fellow’s mother is scouring the region looking for him. And when she finds him—and she will—I don’t think that she will be very understanding about how he came to be here.”
Dirx shook his head stubbornly, but the other kobolds were all sharing looks of alarm and concern. One of them reached out and prodded Dirx’s shoulder, muttering something in his language. Spurt was looking between the centipede and the dragon, maybe appreciating for the first time what they had gotten themselves into.
Leana turned back to the dragon. “What do you want to do, little one?”
“Find mother,” he said. “Get name.”
“We give name,” Dirx said. “Spitter. He spit burning goo.” He pointed to a pile of crates in a corner that looked like they had partially dissolved. The warrior hadn’t noticed them when he’d first come in, and he swallowed heavily.
“A lovely name,” Ravani muttered.
“Maybe we should just leave him with them, and let the kobolds get what they deserve,” Folgar whispered back. The warrior ignored both of them; it felt like every muscle in his body was clenched, as he waited to see whether they’d have to fight the kobolds, the dragon, or both together.
Leana let out a sigh. “You asked us to mediate this dispute,” she said. “We do not have a stake in the outcome, but I strongly, strongly recommend that you return this dragon to where you found it. I suspect that his cries will bring his mother soon enough.”
“Or a pack of hungry dire wolves,” Ravani said. The dragon turned and snorted at him, spattering the elf with hunks of mucus that thankfully didn’t burn with acid. The creature chortled and lowered his head onto Leana’s shoulder so she could scratch it again. “Don’t mind him,” she told the dragon. “Are you hungry, maybe? I’m sure the kobolds won’t mind if you help yourself to a snack.”
The dragon let out a chirrup of approval. He took a few awkward steps forward and tipped over a barrel of salted meat sitting along one wall of the room. One sweep of his claws smashed it open, and he began gobbling up the contents.
Leana made a gesture toward the barrel, as if to say, "You see?" The kobolds all looked at Dirx, who held his head up for a few more stubborn seconds, then the kobold leader visibly deflated. “We take back,” he said.
“Wonderful,” Leana said, as the baby dragon wolfed down another chunk of meat the size of her arm. “That’s just wonderful.”
Game Notes:
Leana: Charisma (Persuasion): 20 (+2): 22 vs. DC 10 (Success)
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