Lazybones's Keep on the Shadowfell/Thunderspire Labyrinth

[Richard Rawen]

Excellent! Once again you bring combat and tactics to vivid life, I'm really enjoying seeing our diminuitive heroes wreak havoc!
As usual you deliver a spectacular story LB, thanks.

 

[nwjavahead]

I agree!

Once again Great LB! Loving Beetle (even if you had to X the Warlock). LoL, keep it up!

djordje

 

[Lazybones]

Thanks for the kudos, guys! I appreciate the comments.

* * * * *

Chapter 42


Even Carzen, who knew next to nothing about engineering or stonework, could tell when the construction changed. It started subtlely, the raw passageway of the Labyrinth giving way to more precise angles of floor, wall, and ceiling, the rough and often uneven floor replaced by tiles worn smooth by the passage of many feet. It felt old, ancient even, and there was something else, a vaguely uneasy presence that sent cold chills traveling up the fighter’s spine. It felt like there was something watching, waiting, something not quite there, hiding in the shadows out in the corner of his eye, but not there when he turned his head suddenly to seek it.

Carzen shook off a shudder. Damned if he wouldn’t be happy to get the hell out this gods-forsaken place.

He looked ahead, at Vhael, who was walking alongside their guide, Terrlen. Or whatever monster lay concealed beneath the nervous outer shell of the man. Carzen had decided to leave him to the dragonborn. This whole crazy expedition belonged to the dragonborn, to him and his wizard, and now the warlock, all of them equally insane.

He’d made one more attempt to talk to the warlord, before they set out again from the sheltered niche where they’d taken a few precious hours of rest. In hindsight, he wasn’t sure what answers he’d been trying to get. Vhael certainly hadn’t been very friendly.

“Why are we doing this?” he’d asked. “We killed the slavers.”

For a few seconds, he’d thought that the dragonborn was just going to ignore him. It wouldn’t be the first time. But after letting out a deep, rumbling breath, Vhael had responded. “Our mission included freeing the hostages.”

There’s been a warning in his tone, but Carzen had felt something driving him to continue. “You know, my father doesn’t give two about a few halflings. He won’t care whether you bring them back or not.”

Vhael had pierced him with a cold stare. “I am not your father.”

And that was it, when it came down to it. Now, as they approached this Demon Well or Well of Fiends or whatever it was called, Carzen wondered for the hundredth time why he was still here. He glanced back at Gez, who at least had the grace to look terrified as he brought up the rear of their little column. Carzen tried to offer a reassuring smile, but it came out more as a grimace.

He turned back as the corridor opened onto a larger space ahead. As Vhael’s broad shoulders moved out of his way he saw that it was a chamber of considerable size, its far wall barely visible in the light of their lamps. Several pillars supported the ceiling, and there were two corridors that appeared to be exits, one to the left and the other a dark shadow on the opposite wall.

The feeling he’d sensed earlier in the corridor was stronger here, and he felt the skin on his arms start to crawl, almost as if there were tiny spiders crawling up and down the limbs under his armor and clothing. Vhael turned and glanced back at him, and Carzen thought he saw it in the dragonborn’s eyes, a realization that there was something wrong with this place.

“I take it we’re here,” Vhael said, turning back toward the guide.

Terrlen Darkseeker nodded, his head bobbing up and down on his spindly neck.

“Then I thank you for your aid.” He drew out a small drawstring bag from his pouch, and offered it to the guide, who just looked down at it, a confused look on his face. “What?” he finally said.

“The second half of our agreed payment. We will have no further need of your services.”

“But… getting back…”

“We will manage. My companion here has been taking detailed notes of our progress.” He indicated Gral with a nod; the dwarf said nothing, but his gaze did not shift from Terrlen. Surina had shifted to take up a position behind the guide, Carzen noticed.

Terrlen still hadn’t made a move toward the bag in Vhael’s outstretched hand. “You want me to return… to the Hall… alone?”

“This place is dangerous,” Vhael said. “I can feel it. I will not take a civilian into such a situation; the risk is too great.”

For a moment the pair faced each other, and it was Terrlen who looked away first. He took the bag of coins, tucking it into the open front of his tunic.

“Do you smell that?” Gez asked, hovering in the shelter of the passage mouth.

The others turned to him, but before any of them could comment, a noise interrupted them, a faint rumbling that seemed to issue from the floor beneath their feet.

“What the…” Carzen began, but Vhael cut him off. “Quiet!” the dragonborn commanded, drawing out his big sword, turning toward the center of the room.

Once again it was Gez who noticed the danger first, but his warning came too late for them to react. “Look! There!” he shouted, pointing to the floor between two of the pillars to their left.

Carzen felt a sinking sensation in his gut as he saw the slight bulge in the floor tiles, a ridge that was coming toward them like a rippling wave through a pond. He felt as though time had slowed to a crawl as he reached for the hilt of his sword. Vhael was shouting something, but the words were unintelligible. Gral and Surina were coming forward, and Carzen thought he could see the tiny puffs of dust that arose under their heels with each step they took. His sweaty fingers closed around the hilt of his sword, and as he started to draw the blade from its scabbard, everything suddenly burst into rapid action around him.

The floor burst in several places, the tiles parting as several long, fat tentacles erupted from beneath them, directly in front of Vhael and the others. Any doubts about its intentions were dispelled as two of the tentacles lashed out and seized Vhael’s legs, holding the dragonborn fast and then dragging him toward the dark opening in the floor where even more tentacles were starting to emerge.

 

[Lazybones]

Chapter 43


Mara leaned back against the wall, overcome by exhaustion. She was too tired to sleep, even if it had been safe to drift off, which it most definitely was not. Lifting her head took an effort, but she forced herself to do it, to look at the huddled group of halflings who sat together in a quiet knot across from her. They had come a lot further than she had, she reminded herself, had been prisoners for much longer.

The two human miners lay on the floor a short distance apart from the halflings. They’d collapsed into sleep almost instantly on their stopping. Even in the weak light from their single lamp—they were rationing their oil—she could see the dark bruises that covered the face of Harek, the dirty bandages that covered Calder’s feet.

She rubbed her wrists, where the marks from her shackles were still visible. It would be a while before they healed. Longer still before the other marks of her captivity faded. If they lived long enough for that to happen.

A faint noise startled her, and she reached for the spear that was never far from her side. She’d risen to a crouch before she recognized the source of the sound.

“I’m sorry to startle you,” Jaron said, materializing out of the darkness like a wraith. She still hadn’t gotten used to how the halflings could see in the dark now. But it was damned useful trait to have in this place, she had to admit. The black goggles, which glistened in the weak light from the lamp, gave him an odd, alien look, like he was some sort of half-man, half-insect creature doomed to wander these deep halls for eternity.

She shook her head to try to clear it as she gestured him closer. Her mind was wandering down some weird pathways of late.

“Are they still following?”

Jaron shot a brief glance at the halflings from his village that Mara didn’t miss. He nodded. “Beetle’s attempt to draw them off down one of the side passages didn’t work, at least not for long. I didn’t get a close look, but there’s definitely more of them, including a wizard that I think I saw back at the Horned Hold.”

“Sounds like you stirred up quite the hornet’s nest there,” Mara replied.

“Yeah, they’re more persistent that I thought they’d be.”

“I imagine their reputation depends on not letting slaves escape. Especially since they lied to the dragonborn about having us as prisoners. If we make it back to the Hall, that deception could make trouble for them.”

“That’s a big ‘if’ right now,” Jaron said, his voice heavy, though he made an effort to keep his despair from showing on his face.

After fleeing the battle at the intersection, they’d made their way quickly back away from the surviving duergar, looking for another route back to the Hall. The goblin Gru had disappeared, leaving them without a guide. Mara had a general idea of the layout of the Labyrinth, at least the main passages, but she hadn’t been in this part of the complex before. Jaron certainly wasn’t comfortable in leading them into some of the tight, narrow side passages they passed, especially given Gru’s warnings from before about leaving the main tunnels. But they had been moving farther away from the Hall with each step.

A few hours back, they’d passed the fork that led back to the Horned Hold. There was no question about that decision, but shortly thereafter they’d come across another split, with one fork bearing off to the left. As far as Jaron had been able to judge, that choice led more toward the direction of the Seven-Pillared Hall, so they’d headed that way.

They hadn’t gone far before the tunnel started to descend, gently at first, the slope barely noticeable. Jaron had been worried, but they’d pressed on, only to come to a sharper fall, with the corridor starting to bend back upon itself, forming switchbacks that grew ever steeper. That had been alarming enough for Jaron to suggest retreat, but that had been when Beetle had suddenly appeared to report that dark dwarves were following them.

Leaving no choice but to go forward.

“Get everyone together,” Mara said. “We’re moving out.”

 

[Lazybones]

Chapter 44


Vhael fought against the tentacles that were lashed around his legs, but it was all he could do to keep his footing as the still-unidentified monstrosity under the floor tugged him inexorably closer toward the gaping hole it had opened. He tried to bring his sword into play, but couldn’t get enough leverage for a strong swing, and the big blade only bounced harmlessly over the rubbery hide of one of the tentacles.

The dragonborn’s companions came to his aid. Surina tried to blast one of the tentacles with a stream of fiery eldritch energy, but her bolt went wide, missing its target entirely and almost striking Gez back in the entry before it sizzled against the chamber wall. The warlock hissed and began circling around to get a better shot, flames erupting around her hands as she summoned her magic for another attack.

Gral’s intervention was more direct; the dwarf simply stepped forward, avoiding a lashing tendril that nearly clipped his head, and thrust his staff into the dark opening where the tentacles had emerged. His thunderwave shook the floor, and the tentacles shuddered wildly as the wizard’s spell impacted their owner below. The two holding Vhael loosened enough for the dragonborn to pull free, leaving ugly black burns where they had coiled around his limbs.

Carzen, finally recovering from his own surprise, drew his sword free and started forward to help. He didn’t notice Terrlen edging back along the wall toward the exit, or the dark shadow that shifted above the guide, a sinuous form that crept forward through a crevice in the ceiling overhead. But he did notice a flicker of movement as a second shadow approached in the shadow of the pillars to the right. The light from Gez’s lamp was partially obstructed by the chaotic melee taking place a few paces away, but as the thing leapt out from behind the nearest pillar, he caught a good look at it.

“Incoming monster!” he yelled in warning to the others, rushing forward to intercept it before it could leap upon Surina from behind.

He didn’t make it in time.

Carzen recognized the charging creature as a ghoul, the stink of it filling his nostrils as he drew closer. Surina, hearing his shout, starting to turn, but the ghoul was fast, damned fast, and it sprang at her like a cat, seizing her with its claws. A streaking globe of flame shot wildly from her hands, hitting the ceiling near one of the pillars, erupting in a wash of light and heat that quickly died. The warlock tried to shake the ghoul off, but the cloying effects of its touch were clearly affecting her, and it only dug deeper, trying to work close enough in to deliver a bite.

Carzen laid into the ghoul with a roar, delivering a powerful blow from his sword that bit deeply even into the unnatural hide of the undead monstrosity. The sheer force of it knocked it free from the warlock, but before either she or the fighter could respond it sprang back up and came at Carzen, claws extended toward his face. Carzen barely got his shield up in time to block, but even so it drove him back a step, the ghoul’s claws scraping loudly on the metal.

White flashes of cold energy flared near the other embattled combatants as Gral and Vhael continued fighting off the tentacle-monster under the floor. The creature had not given up after Gral’s initial attack, the tentacles surging up again to seize both foes. The wizard was caught around the waist, the tentacle tightening around him like an iron shackle. But Vhael was ready this time, and he intercepted a tentacle with a powerful stroke of his sword, severing it near the base. Unfortunately for him, the attack did little to dissuade the creature, and two more tentacles lashed him, one of which caught him around the ankle and almost pulled him off his feet.

Gez had spent the first few seconds of the battle huddled in the entry passageway, fighting a surge of terror that threatened to undo him. Carzen’s loud cry snapped him out of it, and he put down his lamp and drew out an arrow, fitting it to the fraying string of his bow with fingers that shook more than a little. He stepped forward and started to take aim, looking for a shot that wouldn’t risk his allies, when a strangled noise to his right drew his attention around.

He turned to see Terrlen being strangled by a creature with an impossibly long arm that stretched all the way from its perch in a crack in the ceiling to where the guide huddled against the wall, struggling furiously as he tried in vain to break free.

Gez aimed and fired almost by instinct. The arrow shot into the crevice above and stabbed into the monster’s leg. The thing looked down at him, fixing him with a cold stare that radiated pure malevolence, and it let out a sinister hiss.

Gez’s horror was redoubled as he heard an answering hiss behind him.

The soldier threw himself down, a desperate cry drawn unwilling from his lips as something hard clasped onto his shoulders from behind and above. For a moment the probing touch brushed his neck, but before it could lock shut he pulled free. Splayed out on the floor, overcome with the thoughts of whatever the hell it was coming for him, the soldier tried to crawl away, knowing that he would never escape, that the improbable streak of luck that had somehow let him survive thus far had finally come to an end.

 

[Lazybones]

Chapter 45


Even in the desperation of their fight against the tentacle-monster, Vhael monitored what was going on around him with the experienced senses of a veteran of hundreds of fights. While he didn’t see Terrlen being strangled behind him, or hear the guide’s raspy cries over the noise of battle, he did see Carzen and Surina engage the ghoul, and spotted the attack on Gez that knocked him down and sent him fleeing down the passage. He’d never seen a choker, but recognized from written accounts the small but wiry creature that crawled out of a crack in the ceiling and crept after the soldier, clinging to the ceiling like a spider.

Vhael chopped at the tentacle holding Gral, damaging it enough to release its grip upon the wizard. “Gral, there!” he shouted, indicating with a snap of his head the danger.

The dwarf didn’t hesitate, lifting his staff and unleashing a powerful blast of frost that streaked across the room and solidly impacted the choker. The chill strike scored a direct hit, and the choker fell from its perch, landing in a tangled heap on the floor at the mouth of the passage.

But the wizard paid for his intervention, as a tentacle erupted from the ground under him, knocking him roughly back, twining around his legs and slamming his head onto the floor tiles hard enough to send sparks shooting through his vision.

“Damn beastie!” he cursed, fighting to stay conscious as the tentacle crushed his legs together like a vise. His staff had fallen away, and his magic flitted at the edges of his perceptions, out of reach of his battered mind.

Carzen continued to give ground before the furious assault of the ghoul. Its claws had torn runnels in the front of his shield and and ripped several scales off the front of his armored torso, but as of yet he had not been hurt. That nearly changed as the creature seized his shield and pulled it aside, sweeping at his face with his other claw. Carzen was ready for the attack, though, and snapped his sword up, slicing off three of the ghoul’s fingers. The creature let out a hideous sound, and Carzen thought that he was seriously screwed.

Then flames exploded around the ghoul’s back, for a moment framing the creature in a halo of bright red fire. The monster’s angry shriek became something darker, agonized, and it turned toward the source of its suffering.

That left Carzen with the perfect opening to strike the ghoul’s head from its shoulders.

Surina had already gone to the help of Gral and Vhael, who were being pounded on hard by the tentacle monster. Carzen looked around for Gez, but saw no sign of the soldier. He did see a small creepy-looking thing that darted away toward a nearby pillar, and as he turned around to look behind him, he saw something that truly unnerved him.

The tentacle monster had unleashed a considerable amount of damage upon the companions, but it in turn was taking a lot of punishment itself. Several tentacles lay severed or broken upon the shattered tiles, and while others had emerged from the ground to replace them, the weren’t striking with the same intensity that had characterized the creature’s initial attacks. One turned and lashed out at Surina as the warlock approached, but she transformed it into a blackened husk with a point-blank eldritch blast. The one holding Gral had started to drag him toward the hole where presumably the creature waited below, but Vhael intercepted it, severing the tentacle with a single chop of his greatsword. The dragonborn helped the battered wizard to his feet, waiting for another attack, but it appeared that the tentacle-monster had had enough. The last few tentacles slid back into the hole in the floor, which sagged slightly and then settled.

“Gez!” Vhael shouted. Glancing over at Carzen, the dragonborn followed the fighter’s gaze all the way back behind him. Gral and Surina, perhaps sensing something, did the same.

What they saw was Terrlen Darkseeker, now transformed into the furry, muscled form of a humanoid wolf, tearing apart the choker that had grabbed him. The werewolf, sensing their gazes, looked up from his kill, and roared a challenge through bloody jaws.

At that moment, a small horde of gnolls and hyenas burst into the room through the two passages on the far side of the chamber.

 

[Lazybones]

Chapter 46


Carzen stood in a defensive stance, his shield up, as he looked back and forth between the two threats.

Vhael hadn’t looked away from the werewolf, although he had to have heard the gnolls come in; their hyenas had started a raucous barking as soon as they’d spotted the intruders. The dragonborn’s eyes were fixed on the creature that had been Terrlen Darkseeker, and he was talking to it, something about how they were not his enemy. To Carzen, it didn’t look like the thing was buying it; it growled as it slowly rose, letting the savaged and bloody carcass of the choker fall at its feet.

He glanced back at the gnolls. They had brought lights with them, a pair of heavy lanterns that blanketed the room in warm light. He counted them almost reflexively, a pair of spearmen, an archer, and four hyenas in the left group, three more archers and another four hyenas to the right. Even as his brain calculated the odds he was stepping slowly backwards, toward the exit. He started to turn back toward Vhael, expecting the order to fall back.

One of the gnolls barked an order, and all sorts of unpleasant things happened at once.

Fire exploded around the gnolls even as the hyenas sprang forward, with those odd clipped barks that sounded almost like laughter. Surina’s avernian eruption singed several of the gnolls, and one of the archers fell back screaming, trying to put out the flames that flared up one arm. The other archers fired their bows, the shafts lancing through the ranks of the intruders. Carzen raised his shield by instinct, and heard a loud impact that sent a shudder up his arm.

A cloud of roiling frost exploded in the ranks of the charging hyenas, swallowing half of them. It also served to obstruct the aim of the enemy archers—a bit late, Carzen thought—but he could see that it wasn’t big enough to stop them; they’d just move around it and come at them from the flanks.

As if to confirm that thought, another arrow shot out from the edge of the cloud, no doubt fired in the same instant that the dwarf had unleashed his spell. With that same preternatural awareness that sometimes fell upon him in the midst of battle, he saw the shaft fly by Vhael’s head, so close that he swore he saw a single droplet of blood flick away from the dragonborn’s scaled hide. The arrow kept going, and it slammed squarely into the center of the werewolf’s chest.

Carzen had kept on retreating, but he hesitated in the shadow of the entry. Gral and Surina had remained near Vhael, and they had moved to protect him as the charging hyenas drew closer. One of them split off for the group and came rushing toward Carzen. The fighter lifted his sword to strike.

But before the hyena could reach him, something lashed around his neck from behind like an iron band, and he suddenly found himself gasping for air, unable to move.

The hyena barked and came straight for him.

 

[Lazybones]

Chapter 47


Carzen would have cursed if he’d been able to manage the breath for it, but whatever was holding him had a grip like that of a giant. He remembered the thing that had scuttled away, and tried to break free, but it had him fast; he couldn’t escape.

He got his shield up just in time as the hyena slammed into him. He’d hoped its impact would have jarred him free of the chokehold around his neck, but if anything the grip seemed to grow tighter. Bright lights began to flash in front of his eyes.

Surina and Gral held their ground as the hyenas rushed toward them, although they both lacked the armor protection that shielded the others from harm. Surina’s lips twisted into an almost eager grin, her eyes flashing as her magic coursed through her. But before she could attack, she was suddenly thrust roughly aside by Vhael.

She growled something harsh in Draconic, but the reason for the warlord’s odd move became clear an instant later, as the werewolf shot through the space Surina had occupied, its bloody claws slavering as it yanked the arrow out of its chest and tossed it aside. It met a hyena in mid-leap and bore it to the ground, its jaws crushing its neck, ripping out huge chunks of flesh from the hapless creature as it jerked its head up and let out a violent roar.

The gnolls had spread out around Gral’s freezing cloud, just as Carzen had predicted. The huntsmen lifted their bows to fire, most of them targeting the werewolf, while the two spearmen rushed forward to melee. Gral targeted them with a pair of icy rays, blasting them with magical cold that temporarily delayed them as their muscles stiffened in response. Vhael stepped in front of the dwarf and intercepted a charging hyena, delivering a powerful two-handed chop with his sword that opened a bloody gash in the creature’s shoulder. The hyena yelped and snapped at him, while another leapt for the warlord’s legs, landing a bite that tore though his leggings but failed to do more than scratch the dragonborn’s durable hide.

Most of the hyenas fell upon the werewolf, coming at it from all sides, trying to tear it apart. But the werewolf fought like a thing possessed, tearing one hyena from him and hurling it aside, slashing a second across the face with its claws. A hyena sank its teeth into the werewolf’s leg, locking its jaws, but the thing that had been Terrlen merely reached down and seized the hyena’s head, snarling as it pulled, and pulled, and then tore the hyena’s jaws fully open with a sick snapping noise. The creature fell to the ground, making a keening noise that sounded like death as its broken jaw flapped loosely under its head.

The ferocity of its counterattack had driven the hyenas back for a moment, but before they could regroup, a pair of arrows sank into the werewolf’s back. The creature spun and snarled, springing out of the circle of attackers, and landing in a full charge that took it right into the midst of the gnoll archers.

Carzen’s vision was starting to constrict into a narrow tunnel that was continuing to shrink. The hyena kept snapping at him, but thus far it hadn’t managed to get a solid bite through the armor protecting his legs and torso. For a moment, it was so ridiculous that he might have laughed, had he been able to breathe. To come all this way, to die thus…

He never saw the dark form that emerged from the passage behind him, but he felt the sudden impact as Gezzelhaupt sliced his shortsword across the extended arm of the choker, just above where it had latched onto Carzen’s neck. Air, a blessed flood of it, filled his lungs as the strangling grip went slack. The choker, seriously hurt, retreated, trailing its crippled arm after it as it slowly fumbled its way back to the crevice in the ceiling from whence it had emerged. Neither Gez nor Carzen were in any position to stop it, as they had more pressing concerns on their mind by then.

The battle had not paused while Carzen had fought for his life on its periphery, and now combatants were starting to fall. One of the gnoll archers was down, blood oozing from a dozen deep gashes in his flanks, but the werewolf was starting to look like a pincushion, with the other huntsmen firing arrows point-blank into its body. The magical curse that had transformed Terrlen had given him an unnatural boost to his vitality, but it was obvious that even he could not absorb this level of punishment. The werewolf turned and lunged at the nearest archer, but its attack was slow and ineffective, and the gnoll easily evaded it.

Vhael, Surina, and Gral had their hands full with the surviving hyenas, which had been reinforced by the two gnoll marauders, which had finally shaken off the linger effects of the dwarf wizard’s icy rays. Gral hit them with a thunderwave as they approached, but he was hit by an arrow, and forced to withdraw behind his companions. The marauders moved to flank Surina, who met them with a spray of fiery rays that failed to stop their advance. Vhael tried to come to her aid, but a particularly persistent hyena seized his ankle, nearly managing to knock him over.

Thus far the companions had managed to hold their own, especially with the werewolf throwing the gnoll forces into disarray, but the defenders of the Well of Demons had not yet been fully mustered. With a clank of metal and a whiff of brimstone, another trio of figures emerged from one of the passages on the far side of the room. The leader was clad in the familiar trappings of a gnoll demonic scourge, his armor grimly decorated with slashses of red. Another huntsman followed behind him, an arrow fitted to his bow.

But more disturbing by far was the last newcomer, a hulking ape-like monstrosity that came in the wake of the scourge, overshadowing the gnoll with its sheer bulk and ferocity. One glance was enough to reveal that this was no otherworldly foe; the companions didn’t need a second look to recognize it, as they’d already tangled with this type of foe.

The two gnolls, accompanied by the barlgura demon, charged forward to tip the scales back against the surface-worlders that had dared to intrude upon the Well of Demons.

 

[Richard Rawen]

CRAP! heh, how many times have I thought that? DOZENS... and posted it probably another dozen...
You have the title "Cliffhanger King" well in hand, and well earned!

I do have to comment: Two Arcanists!? And they seem to be holding their own =-)

Did I just speak too soon? LOL

Truly enjoying your story sir, thanks for taking the time to share it with us!

 

[Lazybones]

Thanks, RR!

* * * * *

Chapter 48


Vhael saved them from chaos through a sheer effort of will.

“Form the line!” the dragonborn roared, pulling Surina back from the closing jaws of the trap before the gnolls could flank her. Gral followed in his wake, the dwarf knowing the warlord’s maneuver almost by instinct, the wizard anchoring one flank under the protective arc of the dragonborn’s huge sword.

Somehow Carzen found himself obeying as well, the drills of the training field coming back to him after years of neglect, and he shifted into the spot opposite Vhael at the front of what was becoming a defensive wedge. Gez took the far flank opposite Gral, the soldier protected by Carzen on one side and by the chamber wall on the other. Their position was not perfect, and a foe could still flank them by circling around the perimeter of the room, but it was a decent position, one formed just in time as the gnolls descended upon them.

They were greeted by a gout of fire as Vhael opened his jaws wide and unleashed a blast of flame that swept across the front of the enemy ranks. A hyena, already blinded in one eye by a stroke from Vhael’s blade, fell to the ground, its bloody face charred black. The two marauders fell back, wary, but their retreat was only for a few steps, and they reformed their own line as the scourge fell in between them, the fearsome gnoll roaring a defiant curse at them as he lifted his heavy flail.

“Katek char narshak! Vhael shouted in return, his cry echoing through the chamber as powerfully as the gnoll’s had. Carzen did not understand the language of either shout, but something in the dragonborn’s voice stirred him, and he found himself baring his teeth as he lifted his sword in a ready stance. When the gnoll spearman came at him the spear seemed almost like it was stuck in the air, and he easily came in under the thrust, driving six inches of his sword through the gnoll’s armor into his rangy flesh. The gnoll drew back, and only his training kept Carzen from charging forward to finish him. Instead he dropped back into position, protecting Vhael’s flank.

The scourge laid into the warlord with a powerful overhead swing that should have crushed the dragonborn’s skull like an overripe melon. But Vhael ducked under the stroke, escaping with only a glancing hit that scraped a bloody gash along the side of his neck. For just a moment the dragonborn faltered, and the scourge lunged again, hoping to finish his foe. But Vhael only shifted his stance and brought up his sword like the head of a pike. Now it was the scourge that had to dodge, and he had to abort his attack, nursing a cut of his own just over one beady eye.

For a second the two faced off against each other, terrible opponents who each now had a better measure of the other.

Gral held the warlord’s flank, a hastily-summoned shield keeping the other spearman’s initial thrusts at bay. He cursed as his ray of frost narrowly missed the enemy, the white streak shooting harmlessly out across the chamber before frosting the surface of one of the pillars. “Where’s that bloody demon?” he yelled, as the gnoll probed warily at the magical barrier protecting him.

The barlgura had started to follow the scourge toward the battle raging across the room, but its attention had been distracted by a flurry of motion to its left. The fiend turned to see the werewolf lifting one of the huntmasters off its feet, the gnoll squealing as it fought to tear free. Terrlen snarled and hurled the gnoll into the small, open pit that gaped in the floor between the two passages. The hapless huntmaster crashed into the lip of the pit and scrabbled to hold on, but gravity finally did its work, and the archer plummeted out of view with a scream that abruptly cut off. The werewolf looked a mess, blood running down its body and matting its fur from the half dozen or so arrows embedded in its body. But it seemed to get a second wind as it caught sight of the demon, and it issued a roar of challenge that the barlgura was quick to answer.

The two combatants met in a blur of claws and teeth. Droplets of blood flew out of the chaotic tumble, splattering in a wide radius upon the floor. Terrlen fought with an insane ferocity, but the demon was fresh and unwounded, and that advantage proved insurmountable despite the long gashes that the werewolf tore across the fiend’s furry hide with his claws. For one instant it looked as though Terrlen might have a chance, as he leapt upon the demon’s back, jaws seeking purchase on its fat neck, but the barlgura seized him with one muscled arm, pulling him forward over the demon’s head and slamming him hard into the ground. The werewolf tried to pull free, but his movements were growing weaker, and the demon repeatedly lifted him and slammed him down against the floor, once, twice, until a final impact, accompanied by a sick cracking noise, ended his struggles for good.

The demon stepped forward over the carcass of its defeated foe, and answered Gral’s question with a furious roar that promised the same treatment for the rest of the adventurers.