Duergar & Daemons (Being a Sequel to An Adventure in Five Acts) [Updated] [8/3/25]

[ilgatto]

Duergar & Daemons
Part VII: Basileus Ante Portas​

At some time during the ten-day they spend in and around Stalag, we join our noble heroes as they are discussing the duergar, with Sir Eber expressing his utter and undying hatred for the creatures once again, and the chevalier, as seems to have become his habit more and more of late, interrupting the proceedings at even the slightest hint of a conflict or, indeed, anything he fears might lead to one.
“The evil little creeps steal babies and keep slaves!,” Sir Eber barks at some point. “They must be eradicated root and stem! Cut down! All of them!”
“A-ha-ha-ha,” the chevalier interjects. “Tranquille, mon cher, tranquille! No need to get all excited!”
“What is there not to get excited about?,” Sir Eber fumes. “This whole place and everything in it is like a hell to me!”
“Tut-tut, mon ami,” the chevalier says. “Surely it isn’t all bad?”
“We must start with that tyrant king!”
“Not at all, mon ami, not at all,” the chevalier says in the most soothing of tones. “We are, after all, diplomats, non? We are here to establish a rapport with the duergar, not fight them.”
“Bah!,” Sir Eber says.
“A-ha-ha-ha! Not at all, not at all. Besides, the king will hardly leave his army at home if we should go after him, quoi? The rascal commands a hundred and fifty mounted warriors! Fi! We do not stand even the slightest chance against such a force!”
“We’ll see,” the ranger growls. “I will challenge the Underling king and that is that!”
“And what is it, pray, that you think will happen then?,” Navarre asks his noble cousin. “What if, by some miracle, you should succeed in besting him? No offense, old boy, but that old man did make rather short work of you. And even then, you cannot surely believe that an army of one hundred high-ranking warriors will bow down to you in awe after you have just killed their king? I do not for one moment believe that these duergar have shown even the slightest bit of their hand, and they have already proven to be untrustworthy and quite capable of taking on one of us without breaking a sweat. By Olm! The creatures dislike even each other!”
“We have a sorcerer,” Sir Eber says.
“I can creep up to him, use the wand, and then Eber can crush him under his foot,” Sir Suvali says.
“Indeed?,” Navarre wonders. “That is, if you can find something to creep up to, old boy.”
“Is there something I can do about this invisibility thing?,” Sir Eber asks the sorcerer.
“Not really,” Sir Suvali says, after a moment’s hesitation. “I could do something about it but I cannot do the same for you.”
“What is the use of killing this king anyway?,” Navarre asks the ranger. “Other than satisfying your apparent thirst for blood?”
“Then we will have done good,” Sir Eber says.
“And then what?,” Navarre asks. “Good lord, man! What is it with you and killing everything you run into that doesn’t fit your notion of an ideal world? Have you even begun to consider the magnitude of our discoveries in the last couple of ten-days? There is a whole world down here! Don’t you think that will have at least some implications for The Forest?”
“The Forest?,” Sir Eber asks. “What of it?”
“Three gods, man!,” Navarre exclaims. “There is a war on! Don’t you think we need at least a semblance of order up there before we start waging war on the Underdark?”
“A-ha-ha-ha!,” the chevalier cuts in. “Pas du tout, mes amis, pas du tout! We are here as diplomats! As ambassadors!”
“And whom is it, exactly, that we represent down here?,” Navarre continues angrily. “Whom are we to tell about this world? By Olm! I have to admit that I am increasingly of the opinion that we should get our affairs in order up there before we start dealing with duergar kings. And queens, for that matter.”
“I couldn’t care less about what happens up there,” Sir Suvali says. “Finding that egg is enough for me. Just think of the endless possibilities it presents!”
“That may be as is,” the chevalier replies. “Although perhaps not entirely to the point. Eh, bien! I shall ask for an audience with majesté and see if I can get her to speak about this exit to the surface. Perhaps that will help us in our decision on what to do next.”

And so the chevalier heads for the palace, where he is received by a courtier, apparently the ‘caravan master’. From him, he learns that the way to the surface is but rarely used these days; and that there are four possible exits our noble heroes can take from Stalag: the first two being passages further into the Underdark, the third the one back the way they came, and the fourth the way to the surface. He is informed that, if ever, the duergar venture to the surface only during what they call the ‘Dark’ – the three nights of the month when there are no moons in the sky at all.
The caravan master also tells our noble hero that the entrance to the exit to the surface is on the quay next to the waterfall, and that the exit proper is a staircase five hundred yards long. It will take four hours to get to the top – luckily so, for Stalag is located in one of the uppermost parts of the duergar empire.
When the conversation turns to duergar trade caravans, the caravan master explains that these use steeders – the giant spiders our noble heroes found in the cavern with the egg – to transport goods. These steeders are bred by the ‘spidermen’, a clan of duergar living in a settlement down the road from Stalag. When asked about these steeders, the caravan master says that the ‘spidermen’ will likely ask some two hundred gold for a single steeder and that, no, there are no steeders large enough for humans to ride.

Night 53: That ‘day’, still several days before Sir Eber is back to his full hit points again, Sir Suvali announces that he needs to go the surface for supplies. Navarre jumps to his feet and says that he will accompany him, eager to find out about what is going on up there. The noble duo proceed to the staircase, where they now find some steps leading up to a blind wall. They spend some time looking for secret doors, or anything else that would allow them to proceed, but they cannot find a thing – and then a duergar appears out of nowhere, fully geared up as usual.
“My good man!,” Navarre addresses him. “Kindly tell me where we can we find the way to surface, would you?”
“Who speak to humans about stairs?,” the duergar asks after a moment of hesitation.
“I believe it was the caravan master back at the palace,” Navarre replies. “Well? Where is it?”
“We are going to get the presents for your queen,” Sir Suvali adds.
“Humans ask queen,” the duergar says. “Many traps. Need guide.”
“Damned nuisance,” Navarre says irritably. “Well? Lead the way, man!”

The duergar takes the noble duo to the large stalactite, where they knock on the door. As usual, some time passes before the door opens and a duergar appears.
“Ah!,” he says. “Traders! You wish?”
“We want an audience with the queen,” Sir Suvali says. “We want to discuss further cementing the relations between our peoples and ask her what presents she wants from the surface.”
The duergar tells them to wait, and closes the door. Some time later, it opens again, and a courtier appears – a baron no less. Sir Suvali repeats his request, but the baron hesitates.
“Best be quick about it, old boy,” Navarre says. “Haven’t got all day.”
The door closes again. When it opens again after some time, the baron informs the noble duo that the queen has granted them permission to use the way to the surface.
“Wait,” he says, before he closes the door again.
Some time later, the door opens again. Some duergar appear, which take the noble duo back to the cavern with the waterfall, where they hand them blindfolds. Though not amused at all, Navarre is now even more eager to return to the surface than he was before, so he decides to swallow his objections. The noble duo put on their blindfolds, notice a sudden draft, and then they are walking up many, many steps.
Sir Suvali has his senses wide open as they proceed and so, when the noble duo are finally told they can remove their blindfolds, he concludes that the way up was pretty straightforward, but for two stops: once at the beginning, and once just moments ago.
The noble duo are now in a dark cave and, as far as they can tell, there’s only a single duergar with them.
“Will you wait for us until we get back?,” Sir Suvali asks while Navarre lights a lantern.
“Duergar wait,” the duergar says. “Go.”

And so it is that Navarre and Sir Suvali are back on the surface of the world for the first time in what seems like ages. They make their way down the cave and eventually emerge on a small plateau high up in the mountains. It is the middle of the night and the noble duo see the stars glittering in the night sky overhead. Far, far below them, a valley stretches into the distance and they can discern the first of the Three Brothers to their left, the others some distance behind it.
“We must be rimward of Dauberval!,” Navarre exclaims. “Let’s go!”
But then Sir Suvali bluntly refuses to use his magical wand to reduce Navarre in size and take him along. Navarre has to restrain himself quite considerably, absolutely livid at the sorcerer for using the opportunity to assert himself again; furious at himself for not realizing sooner that something like this was going to happen; and extremely frustrated that there is nothing he can do about it now except strangle the pathetic SOB, which would rather ruin this and the next sessions. And so, when his ‘noble companion’ is gone, Navarre heads back into the cave, where he finds a duergar waiting.
“I say,” he starts. “The Three Brothers out there, do you know of them? Part of your empire in some way? Any exits to speak of?”
“One exit from drunkards,” the duergar says.
“One exit?,” Navarre asks. “One of how many exits?”
“Two exits,” the duergar says. “One to Brothers and one to mines.”
“Cheers,” Navarre says. “I’ll be on the plateau. No need to wait up and all that.”

Day 54: It takes the sorcerer some six hours to fly to Diamond Castle. When he gets there late in the morning, he sees that the lake is now completely empty, and that numerous banners fly from the castle walls – Sarazin, Dauberval, Nisibis, Weald. All around the castle, people are hard at work, mostly repairing roads. The castle itself doesn’t seem to have suffered much from what must have transpired there.
Within the castle, he is welcomed by an official, who informs him that the rebel army was defeated by the royalists and that the castle is now safe. More importantly, Duke Mim marched on Apple Island after the battle, where he has proclaimed himself King of The Forest and now resides. His already annexed Palava and Big Beach, while Palavan troops have invaded Bagabuxsha and are currently in control of half of the duchy. Dauberval, Sarazin, Nisibis, and Weald have rejected Mim’s claim to the throne and are preparing for an invasion from the coastal duchies once Bagabuxsha has fallen. Wyrsn is now a bandit stronghold, in name ruled by people’s councils.
The sorcerer buys some supplies (iron rations, some bottles of Lillac), takes a bath, washes his clothes, and then sleeps for the rest of the day.

Back on the plateau, Navarre has decided to make the best of the situation, He has started to look for a way down, but the DM tells him that he won’t be able to get off the plateau without rolling dice. And so, since he doesn’t want to end up in a gully with a broken leg, our noble hero has to let go of the notion of an excursion into the mountains. Gritting his teeth, he meticulously establishes the location of the plateau in relation to the Three Brothers and some other notable landmarks, and then spends the rest of the day lying in the sun and enjoying the summer weather.

Day 55: Sir Suvali returns some time after midnight, obviously having taken his time again for dramatic effect. He has brought the required supplies and informs Navarre of the civil war. Our noble hero can hardly believe his ears and he feels a great anger rise – for didn’t he and his noble companions promise the traitorous bastard their support in council some ten-days ago?
“The bloody nerve of the man!,” he fumes, taking a large swig from one of the bottles of Lillac. “How dare he! I shall personally throw him the gauntlet when we get to Apple Island!”
“Let’s get the duergar,” the sorcerer says.
Navarre corks the bottle again and heads back into the cave, where he starts knocking on some walls. After several minutes of this, one of the walls slowly moves to one side, and then the duergar guide appears. When they have put on their blindfolds, Sir Suvali and Navarre are taken down the stairs again. Just short of an hour later, they are back in Stalag.

Here, the rest of our noble heroes have spent their time recuperating (Sir Eber), shopping (the chevalier, Sir Eber), and exploring the city (Sir Oengus). Although they didn’t actually see many duergar, none of them were under any illusion that they were not under constant surveillance.
The city itself, shrouded in perpetual darkness and usually devoid of any life to the eyes of the noble trio, has indeed turned out to be a veritable forest of stalagmites and columns. Narrow, mostly natural paths – streets – meander through the formations, with steps and small bridges added where necessary. Most of the formations are inhabited to some extent, and our noble heroes have concluded that there must be some five hundred to a thousand duergar living in the city.
In the center of the city, directly below the large stalactite where the queen resides, they have found a plaza-like space with a daily market where invisible duergar sell their wares, usually food laid out on mats woven from vine-like creepers and fungi. Surrounding the plaza are the ateliers and shops of artisans and craftsmen, who mostly work either in stone or copper – the latter commodity apparently being in endless supply. The noble trio have also noticed that there seems to be but little coin about in the city, and that most sales involve an exchange of goods rather than money. Indeed, it would seem that the dwarves duergar are not as rich as the stories would have one believe – with gems and gold rather being mushrooms and potatoes instead.

At some point, Sir Eber asked a duergar whether the problem with the duergar being invisible all the time could be solved.
“Yes,” the duergar replied. “Duergar be seen.”
“That is not what I meant,” Sir Eber said, only narrowly avoiding adding the ‘miscreant’ – or perhaps even ‘you evil f*ck’ – to the sentence.
“Priests can see unseen duergar,” the duergar said. “Nothing else.”
“Is there a priest here?”
“Queen has priest. Big temple in city of drunks. Assassins! Evil poisoners!”
The ranger would have lifted an eyebrow if that wouldn’t have hurt so much. Duergar calling something ‘evil’? Whatever next!
After this, he went to what he gathered to be an alchemist’s shop.
“Is there a powder I can puff at invisible creatures?,” he asked the alchemist.
“Gold dust?,” the alchemist asked, with a sly glance at the ranger.
“Cheaper.”
“Hmm…,” the alchemist said. “Coal dust is cheap.”
“Can you prepare twenty flasks of it?”
“Human use in fight against duergar?”
Sir Eber hesitated.
“Er… you have enemies, don’t you?,” he resumed.
“No matter,” the alchemist grinned. “Human kill duergar how many he like. Human can also put much water on floor. Torch whole room also good! Make copper thread with small bells!”
This, the ranger did not expect. Indeed, much to his surprise, he subsequently had a long and rather agreeable conversation with the alchemist. In the end, he said that he would still like to speak to a priest.
“Not good,” the alchemist said, shaking his head. “Difficult. Priests serve cruel god. Duergar avoid priests at all costs.”
“Does the king have a priest?”
“No. King is exile. Not part of society. Priests side with queen.”
“Where is the queen’s priest?”
“Temple in palace. Nobody go there with free will.”
“Doesn’t sound too scary to me,” Sir Eber laughed.
“Fine,” the alchemist said. “I no go in any case.”

When Navarre and Sir Suvali board the folding boat, they find Sir Eber and Sir Oengus on deck. The ranger immediately hands them ten flasks of coal powder each, explaining their use in the process.
“The Underlings tell me that the priest can see them when they are invisible,” he adds.
“Perhaps their god allows them to,” Navarre suggests, opening another bottle of Lillac.
“I can also see invisible things,” Sir Suvali says, without proceeding to explain how.
“A-a-a-h! Mes amis!,” the chevalier exclaims, noticing Navarre and the sorcerer as he appears on deck. “Vous êtes de retour! Welcome! Welcome back!”
“Tiens!,” he continues when he sees Navarre with the bottle. “Du Lillac?”
And so Navarre and the chevalier dig into the supply of Lillac and they are soon prancing about to much guffawing and witty repartee.

Night 57: After much deliberating on a future course of action, and with Navarre ever more inclined to let the Underdark be the Underdark and return to the surface to fight the traitorous Mim, we join our noble heroes on the bridge to the palace for yet another audience with the queen, probably to finalize the trade deal the chevalier has been negotiating with her and her advisers… when all hell breaks loose.
“The king!,” many duergar yell in the city below, obviously in their own language. “The king! Save the women and children!”
“Run!,” the sorcerer yells.
“Have you lost your mind!?,” Navarre snaps. “Our place is with the monarch!”
“We must cut him off at the gates,” Sir Oengus says. “It be our only chance.”
But the chevalier has already knocked on the door.
“Majesté!,” he cries. “We are here to protect you!”
“Go away!,” a voice comes from behind the door.
“To the gates it is, then,” Navarre says. “Oengus, lead the way, old boy!”
“Pardon?,” the chevalier asks, startled. “And then what?”
“We shall speak to the man, mon cher,” Navarre says. “He is a king, is he not?”
“Have you taken leave of your senses, monsieur?,” the chevalier asks. “The man is an evil tyrant! We are no match for him and his cavalry!”
But Navarre has been drinking quite a lot of Lillac.
“To the gates!,” he yells, starting down the bridge.
“Right behind you, Sir!,” Sir Oengus hollers. “Lay a course! Man to the crow’s nest, by thunder! All hands on deck!”

 

[ilgatto]

Duergar & Daemons
Part VII: Basileus Ante Portas – Continued​

When our noble heroes reach the amphitheater, they realize that the duergar king is approaching on the other side of the city. And so they start making their way across the city in haste, some more willing than others, and presently find themselves in an area largely devoid of dripstone formations, Ahead of them, two tunnels some distance apart from each other lead out from the city, each some ten yards wide and thirty high.
Without breaking his stride, Navarre advances until he has a good view of both tunnels.
“What on earth are you doing?,” the chevalier asks. “The man will make tartare of us all!”
“My dear fellow!,” Navarre exclaims. “We are dukes! Are we to be refused to speak to a king?”

Then, a huge spider comes crawling from the tunnel to the right, an armored duergar riding it – and then another, and another, and another, and then another. The chevalier, now left with little choice but to accept the situation, procures his trumpet and blows the ‘All Hail the King’. From their vantage points on floor, walls, and ceiling, the duergar riders start screaming and pointing and waving their crossbows at our noble heroes: “Graarg, graargh, blaah!”
The chevalier performs a military salute, and then one of the riders rears his spider, turns it around, and disappears back into the tunnel. The others show no signs of calming down, and the tension rises.
“Weapons down!,” one of the duergar screams, pointing his crossbow at Navarre. “Surrender!”
“I’m afraid you already have us at a disadvantage, Sir,” the chevalier says frostily.
“We would speak to your king,” Navarre says. “I am Navarre Dau…”
“Humans are prisoners!,” the rider screams. “Surrender!”
“We are already at your disposal, monsieur,” the chevalier replies.
“We are emissaries from above,” Sir Eber says. “We are here to talk, not to surrender.”
“Humans are prisoners!,” the rider screams again.
“Call your king, soldier,” Navarre says, rapidly getting tired of the screaming duergar. “We are at his disposal.”
Eventually, the riders stop screaming and calm down. But then Sir Oengus draws his bow, knocks an arrow, and aims it at one of the riders.
“Put down your weapons!,” he yells. “Surrender!”
“WTF!?,” the other players yell at him in abject horror.
“Hmm…, nice!,” Frank says, beaming. “Marvelously chaotic neutral!”
“Somebody shut him up,” Navarre says to his noble companions.
Next to him, the chevalier sits down on the cavern floor, his head in his hands.

And then a truly impressive amount of giant spiders and duergar come charging into the cavern, swarming across walls, ceilings, floors, stalagmites and stalactites, and columns. Within seconds, it seems, the creatures are everywhere, crawling all over the place and surrounding our noble heroes, their riders screaming and yelling as if possessed by demons – or perhaps daemons. Sir Suvali, who now declares that he was high up in the air long before this – which he wasn’t – is informed that he has been spotted by the duergar anyway and that dozens of crossbows are presently aimed at him.
But the show isn’t over yet and, when some three score spider-mounted duergar have surrounded our noble heroes on all conceivable sides, the special forces come swarming into the cavern – the king’s guard, judging by their shiny plate armors. They move through the duergar lines and, when they have thus cleared the way, the largest spider our noble heroes have ever seen comes crawling into the cavern at speed. On it is a four-foot duergar in a magnificent plate armor, his evil grin clearly visible underneath an equally resplendent helmet. Behind him, yet more spiders come swarming into the cavern.

Navarre hasn’t moved an inch during all of this, helped in no small way by the amount of Lillac he has consumed. He has a good look at the duergar king, and waits for him to speak as tradition demands.
But he hasn’t counted on the chevalier, who presently rises to his feet and bows the duergar king.
“Mon Roi!,” he says with an elegant flourish. “We have come from the surface, drawn by the many stories of your heroic deeds. That is why we ask for parley. I am Scaralat de Sarazin and I and my fellow noblemen are at your service! We are here to speak to you.”
The king doesn’t seem impressed, rather giving the impression that he owns the place.
“We have come in small numbers,” the chevalier resumes. “And therefore not to fight. We are here to talk. And to hand over des cadeaux.”
“What kind of gifts?,” the king asks.
“Whatever would please your majesty.”
“Gold?”
“We speak of the fruit of fertile lands and vineyards,” the chevalier sings. “Of the work of our most skilled artisans. We can deliver all of this in exchange for goods of comparable value!”
“So you have nothing on you?”
“Everything that would please your majesty is within reach,” the chevalier replies smoothly.
“Weapons? Wine? Gold? Pearls?”
The chevalier bows.
“What you want in return?,” the king asks.
“What would majesté be inclined to offer?”
“Iron, copper, fungi.”
“Giant spiders?,” the chevalier ventures.
“Possibly.”
“How fortuitous to find majesté in a practical mood!,” the chevalier exclaims. “Why..., I do believe we have already started negotiating!”

By now, well over a hundred duergar on spiders have entered the cavern, and still more keep coming from the tunnel.
“You have a minute?,” the king…, um, declares, signaling his generals.
Instantly, the duergar start screaming again and speed off into the city like demons possessed. Soon, their war cries mix with the terrified screams of the duergar of Stalag.
“The utter…, evil bastard!,” Sir Eber growls under his voice. “This must be stopped! I must challenge him!”
Navarre puts a hand on his noble cousin’s shoulder and takes a step forward.
“My lord,” he addresses the king. “Would you stop the slaughter.”
“Why?,” the king asks, grinning.
“I must ask again, my lord,” Navarre insists.
“There is no reason.”
“We have come to speak to a king,” Navarre says, a hint of steel in his voice.
“So?”
“Your actions are unworthy of one.”
The king’s grin freezes.
“What?”
“It is the habit of our kings to suspend their plundering of helpless cities when speaking to their peers,” Navarre says.
The king shifts in his saddle.
“Ha!,” he barks. “A small diversion to amuse me while I listen to your claptrap. I tell you that Stalag wasn’t up for another year.”
“That is as may be,” Navarre says, taking several steps forward. “But it doesn’t solve our problem. I insist you halt your cowardly attack.”
“Ahem! Ahem!,” the chevalier coughs conspicuously as he pushes past Navarre. “A-ha-ha-ha! A toast, perhaps?”
And so the chevalier starts sweet-talking the duergar king again – and ruin Navarre’s build-up to Sir Eber’s challenge. Not for the first time, our noble hero wonders whatever it was that the chevalier discussed with the duergar queen when he first was in the palace a ten-day ago.

Now, Sir Oengus starts flipping a gold coin into the air and then he, the chevalier, and Sir Eber start speaking all at once, which results in a cacophony of clamorous and haphazard exchanges with the king.
“I understand you people have a tradition of challenges and duels,” Sir Eber addresses him after some of this, silencing Sir Oengus and the chevalier. “What do you think?”
“I am highest rank here,” the king says.
“You’re the best in the world,” Sir Eber states, with more than a hint of sarcasm in his voice.
“World is big. Some duergar more powerful.”
“Are you open to a duel?,” Sir Eber asks. “I think I’m ready for a new challenge.”
“Human want fight one of champions?,” the king replies.
“Maybe as an opener,” Sir Eber says. “What about you?”
“You fight a champion. Then I consider rude question.”
“Seriously?,” Sir Eber scoffs.
“You not duergar. Is no need to accept. You fight champion. You win? Maybe I show human I am better.”
“I accept,” Sir Eber says. “High Rules for the fight between me and one of your minions. We fight until one of us falls. I do this as a sign of respect for both our peoples. It will be a celebration of battle.”
The king looks at his generals, many of whom have been following the conversation with interest – and some even seem to like the idea. Of these, most lower their eyes in sly or fearful submission when they meet the king’s gaze, though others return it with something bordering on barely-veiled defiance.
“Now?,” Sir Eber asks.
“Now,” the king replies.

And so our noble heroes are on their way to the amphitheater again, this time in the company of the duergar king and his army – and without a single citizen of Stalag in sight. There is a palpable tension in the air when they enter the place and the king and his generals are settling down on seats of honor. Eyes flashing and weapons at the ready, everybody waits for what is to come.
“I will cast Haste on all of you for when things go wrong,” Sir Suvali says.
“I disapprove,” Navarre says. “The duel is to be fought under High Rules. Magical trickery and subterfuge is not likely to impress the duergar very much.”
“Then I call you to council, gentlemen,” the sorcerer says. A vote is taken, and Navarre has to give in when the others are in favor of the sorcerer’s plan.

With the king’s men now settling down on all sides, Sir Suvali uses the commotion to cast Detect Magic. He has a good look at the king, his guard, his generals, and the champion, and concludes that about half of the guards and generals have at least one magic item on their person (a hammer, a shield, some other weapon); that most of the king’s equipment is magical; and that his champion has a magical hammer.

There is a moment of silence when all duergar have taken their seats. When our noble heroes start placing fire beetle light balls in various locations on the stage, the duergar stir, and some even stamp their feet in what seems to be approval.
“What is this?,” Sir Oengus asks a duergar next to him.
“Humans raid Fire Beetle Island!,” the duergar replies, grinning. “Very good!”
“Raid?,” Sir Oengus asks.
“Duergar army never raid island,” the duergar replies. “Steeders no cross water.”
One of the king’s generals steps onto the stage. He looks at the king, who signals for the fight to begin.
“Fight!,” the general yells, which is Sir Eber’s cue to quaff a potion of regeneration and put some oil of enchantment on his sword, and Sir Suvali’s to cast his Haste spell.

And so Sir Eber advances to the center of the empty stage. He assumes a defensive stance and begins looking around the stage and listening intently in the hope of locating his invisible opponent. He doesn’t move much for some time, and suddenly swings his weapons with astonishing speed in what seems to be a random direction. His axe scrapes an armor, and then the duergar champion appears out of nowhere and delivers a mighty blow with his hammer (“20”), which almost brings the ranger to his knees. But our noble hero remains on his feet, and the combatants swing their weapons again, each hitting the other with a considerable impact, forcing each to take a few steps back. They advance again, and Sir Eber executes another amazingly fast series of maneuvers, most of which the duergar champion evades with relative ease before he hits the ranger twice with his hammer. Sir Eber instantly reacts with another lightning-fast sequence, though this time to no effect at all – the duergar champion dodges the flurry and hits the ranger, once, twice. Now with the momentum clearly on his side, the duergar champion takes a few steps back and charges to the attack again, just when Sir Eber initiates another of his speedy maneuvers. The duergar champion ducks past the ranger’s sword and swings his hammer in what surely must become the final blow. But the hasted ranger is too fast, and his axe hits the duergar champion full on.
Without so much as a whimper, the duergar champion sags to the stage floor.

“Good lord,” Navarre whispers under his breath.
The duergar and their king, clearly dumbfounded by the ranger’s number of attacks per round, sit staring at their defeated champion in stunned silence. But then the audience start murmuring and communicating in their silent tongue – and some even engage in modest applause.
The duergar king rises with a nettled look on his face.
“A-ha-ha-ha!,” the chevalier comes running before the king can speak. “Mon roi! Perhaps now would be an opportune moment to discuss a trade deal?”
“Humans bring five hundred liters of wine,” the king declares.
“A superb decision, mon roi!,” the chevalier sings. “We will go forth in all haste and start the necessary preparations!”
The king just looks at him, then at the ranger again.
“Eh, bien!,” the chevalier resumes. “How much would majesté be prepared to pay for such an amount?”
“Five hundred gold,” the king says. “We meet here in one month.”
“What about our duel?,” Sir Eber comes in. “To liven up our business meeting?”
“We see,” the king says. “I may have spotted certain irregularities that do not go down particularly well with me.”
“A-ha-ha-ha!,” comes the chevalier’s falsetto laugh.
“Until then,” the king says.
He turns and leaves the amphitheater, immediately followed by some his generals.
“Quite,” Navarre says, scanning the amphitheater in some trepidation, hand on his sword. “Until then.”
But the remaining duergar show no signs of aggression, and they soon start leaving the amphitheater.
Navarre approaches Sir Eber and shakes his hand.
“Congratulations, old boy,” he says. “Mayhap next time you could refrain from not hitting your opponent so much? I feel like I have aged a year!”

When there are no more duergar in sight, our noble heroes head for the palace to pay their respects to the queen. But when they step onto the final bridge, they see a large number of the king’s men trying to break down the door to the palace.
Sir Eber advances without hesitation, the adrenaline still pumping through his body.
“Time to go, boys,” he growls.
One of the duergar gives him a defiant stare.
“Duergar want ten womans.” he announces. “Then humans go in.”
“Get lost,” Sir Eber says. “Fun is over.”
The duergar issues some commands and some of the creatures disappear into nothing. Nothing is said for a moment as tension rises and both sides start reaching for their weapons. It must be said that some of our noble heroes get a bit nervous at this point – they are not very likely to survive a fight with the king’s army. Not so Sir Suvali, as usual eager to take advantage of situations in which he thinks no one knows what to do. He casts Sleep and two duergar collapse, to the consternation of the others.
“Looks like some of your people aren’t feeling too well,” Sir Eber ventures. “Maybe it’s the altitude?”
The sorcerer casts another Sleep spell and two more duergar collapse. The remaining duergar start talking in their silent tongue and then, after some moments, they retreat, taking their sleeping comrades with them.

Navarre knocks on the palace door.
“I say!,” he calls. “Open this door!”
There is no reaction. He knocks again, this time more forcefully.
“Open this door!,” he calls again. “We are here to assist the queen!”
It takes fifteen minutes before he hears the sound of what appear to be a lot of latches and bolts being removed, and the door opens.
“Our champion has done battle for you,” the chevalier says, when a duergar general appears out of nothing in the doorway. “As a sign of our respect for majesté! Eh, bien! The situation is precarious and we request an audience.”
Some more duergar appear in the doorway and down the bridge behind our noble heroes, their crossbows trained at the retreating king’s men.
“Go in,” the general says, stepping aside.

When our noble heroes are in the palace and the door closes behind them, Navarre involuntarily breathes a sigh of relief.
“Gentlemen,” he says. “I believe a stiff drink is in order!”
“Take us to the queen,” Sir Suvali says.
“Queen busy,” the general says.
“Tant pis!,” the chevalier says. “Monsieur, allow me to express our deepest regrets for the plight of your people. We have done our best to prevent the worst.”
“Why don’t you Underlings beat these creeps to a pulp?” Sir Eber growls at the general.
“Eber!,” the chevalier hastens to cut in through gritted teeth. “E-ber! Testosterone! Tes. Tos. Te. Rone!”
“Duergar protect queen,” the general says. “No king’s duergar in palace, no harm done.”
“Merveilleux!,” the chevalier says. “Now, as it happens, we have come to an arrangement with the king about the sale of some wine. It would only be appropriate that we reach a similar agreement with the queen before we head back to the surface and start our preparations.”
“Queen busy,” the general repeats.
“I suggest that you inform the queen that the king will be back in a month,” Navarre says, already bored with the fellow.
“Humans no trust king,” the general says. “King take wine and give no gold.”
“We must speak to the queen,” Sir Suvali insists. “I have gifts. Trinkets. Wine.”
“Humans stay here until king gone,” the general says.

Suddenly, Navarre has an idea. He has been thinking about a purpose to all of this for some time – one that would be of use in the war against the traitorous Mim and to The Forest in general – and he now thinks that he may have found one.
“I say,” he addresses the general. “It has just occurred to me that we know exactly where the king will be in one month. Isn’t there some way we can use this to our advantage?”
The general looks at him and hesitates.
“Perhaps set up some sort of trap?,” our noble hero continues. “I mean, you must have at least – what? – three hundred armed men down here? I say we should be able to handle the king and his men with the proper preparations. It would rid the duergar of a huge problem and cement relations between our peoples.”
Although the general seems to like the idea, he remains strangely hesitant.
“Duergar have numbers,” he says cautiously. “Fight king and win maybe possible.”
“You seem indecisive, old boy,” Navarre says. “Why so? Couldn’t your people rig the cavern in some way? Collapse its entrances? Prevent the army from retreating? Indeed! If his recent arrival is anything to go by, we could collapse the entrances just when the king himself rides into the city, leaving half of his men outside. The whole thing could be over in an hour!”
“Water,” the chevalier suggests. “Their steeders fear water.”
“Excellent!,” Navarre exclaims, immediately thinking of the gates back at Fire Beetle Island but unable to mention this because he doesn’t really know anything about them. “Can we flood the cavern? Even partially? Force the army into a disadvantageous position?”
The general is now decidedly ill at ease. He obviously likes the idea, but clearly something is holding him back. But Navarre’s enthusiasm is growing by the minute and he even turns to Sir Suvali.
“What about the egg?,” he asks excitedly. “Can we use these ‘planes’ of yours? Didn’t the Magister get to one of them from Apple Island? Does that also work in reverse? Maybe we could get some of our own men down here! By Olm! Without that traitor Mim we could have our armies down here and make short work of the king and his men!”
“No,” the sorcerer says. “But maybe we can do something with the spider symbol on the square.”
“Brilliant!,” Navarre exclaims, now barely able to restrain himself. “Wouldn’t that thing be something of a relic to these people? Wouldn’t their priests be interested in it? By Olm! The Stalag duergar, our own armies, the duergar priests! The king is toast!”
“You know why I picked Web when I got to Level 4?,” the sorcerer suddenly says, clearly extremely pleased with himself. “It’s the Underdark and it’s an area-affecting spell. So now I have Magic Missile for single targets and Web for areas. My next spell is going to be Fireball. I can instantly cast it multiple times when I get it because I’m a Sorcerer and not a standard Wizard. I can kill large parts of the army in minutes.”
“I don’t think Web is going to be of much use in a cavern like this,” Navarre says – though he doesn’t. “Its area of effect is too small and it will hardly affect an advancing army of one hundred and fifty duergar on steeders in any case. Besides, they are giant spiders. A web isn’t very likely to stop them.”
And so Navarre didn’t say any of this and he turns to the duergar general again.
“We must speak to your priest, old boy,” he says. “Get him to support the effort.”
“Ha!,” the general exclaims. “Nobody go in temple! Priest and temple horrible! Perhaps throw letter into temple from far outside, but no more. Maybe priest answer, maybe not.”