“Agar! What is it?”
The halfling shakes his head as if to clear it of cobwebs. “A vision. Thousands of fish ripping down a wall with a bolt of lightning, then swimming through the entrance. It was like a dam breaking.” He looks up at the monitor looming above him. “I think we’re in trouble. It was happening right now.”
Thoobel fixes Agar with his watery eyes. “Blibdoolpoolp has granted you vision! You could have been a holy seer, if you had not been hatched into an impure form. I shall return in moments!” The group watches his slimy back retreating up the tunnel, and gathers back around the map to plan their battle strategy.
“So here’s the palace, and here’s the Glass Pool.” Malachite points at the map. “These are breeding pools where the royal spawn resides. This triangular building named the Clatterhouse is the residence for the clerical ‘whips,’ and the House of the Sea Mother is where the religious monitors are. Hopefully, both of those will be mostly empty. We know the Glass Pool is relatively shallow water with a core of ice around the middle.”
Velendo nods. “Apparently, Blel-Plibbit goes out onto the ice beneath a statue to Blibdoolpoolp. He lies on the ice, and she sends him wisdom and visions.”
“Hummph.” Nolin snorts. “More likely the elemental sister of Silissa is trapped under the ice, and he’s communicating with him somehow.”
“Do you suppose the kuo-toa know that she’s there?”
“Who knows? Probably, or they once did. It’s got to be hard to imprison an incredibly powerful elemental spirit in the middle of your holy sacrificial pool without anyone noticing.”
“But Thoobel doesn’t know anything about her. Gods only know how long she’s been imprisoned. Let’s see; if we enter through here, we’ll need a distraction….”
Within a few minutes Thoobel is back. “It is true!” His voice quivers with excitement. “Your presence here has forced the false king’s fin. Even now, his troops are breaking through the northern barricades. The way I see it, you have a finfull of choices.”
Velendo leans back, considering. “Yes?”
“You can stay and fight them with my people. We will surely lose without you, but it will be a bloody battle, and perhaps you can help! I don’t know enough of your fighting skill to say.” The look on Thoobel’s face indicates that he doesn’t think much of this choice.
Malachite clears his throat. “We have some skill in combat. What are the other options?”
The kuo-toa makes a gentle gesture with one fin. “You have already had a difficult day. Blel-Plibbit’s troops won’t make it this far for at least a half an hour; if you wish to not press your attack today, I can smuggle you to a hiding place where you can rest. Then my people will likely be slaughtered or flee, but he who sits in the Coral Throne will not easily be able to find you, and you may destroy him tomorrow. I will come with you, so as to see the cleansing of the throne.”
“And to avoid the bloody mess he’s sending his loyal followers in to,” thinks Malachite bitterly over the mindlink.
“Not much of a people person, is he?” quips Nolin mentally.
“Waiting until tomorrow will mean that you are better prepared, but Blel-Plibbit will likely fortify his defenses if he can not find you today. Thus, the coward might be better guarded. The last option, to attack right now, is only wise if we are strong enough. He is scared of me and what I can do, and I think he is scared of you as well. He will have sent his most powerful troops and priests to come and destroy us. If we flee and take the fight to him, he will most likely be caught unawares.” Thoobel studies at the group intently, as if trying to decide whether or not they are powerful enough to successfully attack the palace.
“He keeps staring at us,” whispers Agar over the mindlink.
Worried about the upcoming battle, Velendo tries not to sound exasperated. “He’s a kuo-toa, Agar. That’s the only thing he can do.”
“Good point.” Agar thrusts his consciousness back into his mind to inventory his spells. In his mind’s eye, they hang there quivering – multi-limbed tentacles of potential energy, squirming with eagerness to be cast. Reluctantly he pulls his mind back. “Well, I still have quite a lot of resources today. I say we go now.”
Stone Bear concurs. “I’m ready as well. I can’t get any readier than I am right now.” The group rises, prepared to take the fight to the enemy.
“I’m glad,” burbles Thoobel. “I will instruct my people to delay them as much as possible. You will need to breath water where we are going. This is possible?”
“We can do that,” says Velendo. “For just a few minutes?”
“For almost an hour.” Velendo blinks in surprise, and Thoobel gives a laughing cough that sounds like a dying seal. “It is a big city,” he explains. Then one of the fingerlings that Stone Bear is holding pops a tiny fin out into the air, and the monitor notices. He turns to Stone Bear.
“You have several of my spawn with you?” Stone Bear nods, his eye sockets revealing nothing. “Good thinking. They will learn from the battle, if they live. The weak will die, the strong will survive to better themselves, and I can easily sire more. It will be good for them to know how a human fights.” He doesn’t say why, but turns away to lead the group out. The blind shaman just tucks the fingerling back into his satchel, shakes his head, and follows the kuo-toa up the tunnel.
* * *
Beds of edible seaweed, swaying back and forth in the current. An undersea corral of bluish giant lobsters, each ten feet long with claws the size of an overweight halfling. Poisonous coral the shade of diseased flesh, home to a hundred darting little fish. Inquisitive eels. Scum-coated tunnels that have been long-forgotten, twisting beneath the domiciles of proper kuo-toa as they meander towards the center of the city. And no decoration or artistic flourishes of any kind, anywhere. Glubyal slowly opens itself to the Defenders as they retreat from the encroaching army of Blel-Plibbit into even greater danger, and it is not a welcoming embrace.
* * *
The group crouches in the shadows behind a coral building fifty feet from the side gates of the royal plaza. “At least four kuo-toa guarding this side of the coral gate,” reports Galthia.
“Everyone ready?”
“Let’s go.”
Inivisible, the stealthier members of the group begin sneaking across the tiled square. They are silent, but the guards’ heads swivel as Galthia moves across.
“Galthia! They’ve seen you!” He freezes, as does Priggle. It’s not entirely clear that the guard has seen him. The paunchy kuo-toa speaks to his fellow guard, then slowly makes his way across the open space, swinging his pincher staff back and forth and craning his head in every direction.
“It's their eyes,” thinks Priggle. “They must be able to see invisible movement. When you stand still, though, I think you’re invisible to them.”
“Well, why didn’t they see you, then?” Galthia’s mental voice sounds a little bit insulted. Priggle's response, however, sounds resigned.
“Who notices the deep gnome? No one, that's who. We're not even important enough for our enemies to hate.” He sighs mentally.
“Screw this,” thinks Tao. “There’s just a few of them. Let’s take them.” She rushes forward with Stone Bear, but neither of them are close enough to reach the enemy. Galthia and Priggle are, though, and they move to attack as well.
Priggle brings the edge of his pick across in a hard, short arc. It rips right through the kuo-toa's left knee in a small explosion of blood and bone. As the guard begins to topple, Priggle reverses his gnomish weapon and brings the hammer head right down on his opponent's face. the guard doesn't get back up.
Galthia strikes the second guard, but luck works against him as he loses his balance on the slippery tile. The guard has time to croak out a warning. On the far side of the gate another guard responds by raising a conch shell to his thin lips, and a warning horn sounds out across the royal plaza.
“Damn damn damn!” swears Nolin. “I thought about using silence, but we were worried about it dampening our spellcasting. I should have done it anyways!”
“Don’t worry about it, Nolin,” calls Galthia. “What’s done is done. We need to kill this one and get this gate open!”
“I’m on the gate,” declares Priggle. “Not that anyone noticed. Or cared. Or even thought to ask me. That’s fine. Don’t feel bad about it.” He purses his lips while he studies the architecture for a few seconds, then raises his pick and takes several impeccable swings that completely shatter the magically hardened coral. The huge gate clatters to the tiled floor in pieces around him. A kuo-toa guard suddenly appears in front of the deep gnome, but it reels backwards with a dozen crossbow bolts stuck in his chest.
“Reload, men!” bellows Splinder. The dwarves obey, even as Stone Bear sprints through the gate to see three kuo-toa guards still standing.
No armor, thinks Stone Bear. Not very bright of them. His raven takes to the air as the shaman throws himself at an enemy. With accuracy sacrificed in favor of sheer power, Stone Bear’s fist punches most of the way through a guard’s chest. He uses the dying guard as a pivot as he spins around, and his foot almost takes the head entirely off another guard nearby. Stone Bear lands on the ground gracefully, two corpses collapsing beside him.
It’s almost the first time that the other Defenders have seen him in combat. Someone whistles quietly in admiration. The last guard standing is chopped down by Tao, who rips the horn from his hands seconds before she slides her swords into his belly.
“They know we’re here,” Stone Bear says unnecessarily.
“On it,” says Nolin. He pulls out the Shara Ball. This glass globe had been crafted by Sharala Clearwater, and contains a piece of her essence; it knows the spells that she knows, and is able to cast one on occasion. Unfortunately, Shara also imbued the item with her disdain for Nolin. “Shara? My greeting to you. Would you be so kind as to create a convincing illusion of us as far away across this plaza as you can? We want to draw any guards to the opposite side from where we’re heading.”
Shara’s voice is tinny and faint as the ball awakens. “Oh, it’s you. How charming.” Her sarcasm could cut glass. “In some other horrible situation that your primping and songs can’t save you from?
“Shara, please. Now really isn’t the time to insult me. You should feel free to express yourself at great lengths later, but things are really kind of urgent at the moment.”
Inside the glass globe, a tiny image of Shara smiles self indulgently. “Then of course. I’m flattered you asked.” The image concentrates, and far across the plaza a very realistic image forms, even as illusory warning horns sound from other parts of the plaza as well. More gurgling shouts fill the air as the distant kuo-toa guards begin to react.
“Thank you,” says Nolin sincerely. “We’ve got a distraction, folks. Let’s go.” To the inspirational tune of a victory march sung by Nolin, the Defenders of Daybreak surge forward into the Plaza of the Sea Mother. They fan out as they race towards the Glass Pool. In front of them, the silhouette of something large scuttles forward to intercept.
To be continued….
