Shackled City Epic: "Vengeance" (story concluded)

[Lazybones]

Chapter 11

The three companions, Ruphos, Zenna, and Arun, faced off against a gnomish locksmith who was clearly involved in some quite shady dealings. At the moment, he was holding a knife to the throat of their friend, who had been knocked unconsciousness through some unknown magic.

“Drop your weapons!” the gnome commanded. “And keep your distance!”

Arun dropped his heavy warhammer, which landed on the stone floor with a solid thunk. But he only used that as an opportunity to draw out on of the lighter hammers from his belt, and he hefted it easily in his hand, a missile ready to be hurled in an instant.

“You harm her, you will face the justice of the Soul Forger,” he said, his voice flat with deadly earnest.

Zenna’s mind whirled, as she tried to come up with something that could ease this situation, and save her best friend in the world... her only friend. But it was Ruphos who stepped forward, who tore the magical hat from his head to reveal his true features.

“Keygan! I’m Ruphos Laro, of the church of Helm! Keygan, don’t do this!”

“Ruphos?” the gnome said. His entire body was trembling, now, but he did not release his grip on the dagger, nor did its edge dip from Mole’s throat.

“Keygan, you’re a respected member of this community? What are you doing? Whatever trouble you’re involved in, we can help you!”

The gnome shook his head. “Look, just go, get out of here. I’ll let her go if you leave, and don’t come back!”

“We can’t do that, Keygan,” Ruphos said. “Keygan, they took children. From the orphanage, four innocents.”

The gnome let out a sob, and staggered. “I’m... I’m so sorry,” he said, heaving the dagger away from him and releasing Mole. Zenna was there in an instant to catch her friend, while Arun kept the gnome under close scrutiny, his hammer still noticeably handy in his fist. But all fight had gone out of Keygan Ghelve, and he sagged to the floor, a broken man.

Mole was stirring, and she seemed all right, just stunned. Zenna helped her up, and the four of them faced the gnome, who seemed to shrink under their scrutiny.

“You’d better start from the beginning,” Arun intoned.

* * * * *

The gnome’s tale answered some questions, but left others tantalizingly unanswered.

Deep within the volcano, far under the city of Cauldron, lay various networks of tunnels and caverns. Many of these were natural, formed by ancient volcanic action while the volcano was still active, while others had been expanded and altered by residents who came after. One such group were the gnomes of Jzadirune.

Jzadirune had been a thriving underground community of gnomes who had prospered in the early days of Cauldron. Created by practitioners of the arcane mysteries, it had become known for a time for its magical creations, including rings and other miscellaneous items of great power. But Keygan told them that about three generations ago, the community had experienced a very sudden and dramatic decline. The gnome’s information was vague on the details, but apparently a sickness of magical origin had emerged within the community, claiming many of its members. The survivors had gathered their possessions and left Jzadirune behind for some distant and unremembered destination.

By now most Cauldronites had forgotten that the gnome city had even existed, but the Ghelve family had maintained one link to this history. Under his shop lay a hidden staircase, the sole remaining access from the surface to the gnomish enclave. Keygan had all but forgotten about it—he certainly wasn’t going to go exploring there—when one day some months ago, his life had changed.

They came through the secret door in the middle of the night, catching him by surprise, subduing him before he could defend himself. To compel his obedience, they’d taken captive his closest friend and companion, his rat familiar. Through the bond that existed between wizard and familiar, he could sense Starbrow’s distress, alone and hungry in a dark place somewhere below.

Ghelve told them everything; there was no reason for him to hold back, now. The creatures came in two varieties; “tall ones”—skulks, like the one they’d killed, and “short ones.” The latter Ghelve described as sinister gnome-like beings, except with pale, sickly flesh, bulbous noses, and cloven hooves for feet. There had been no leader that Ghelve had seen, indicating that whoever was coordinating these attacks might possibly have remained below the city, in the abandoned gnome enclave, or perhaps deeper. Ghelve acknowledged that he really didn’t know what else lay below the city, but it was possible that other occupied caverns lay deeper, or perhaps even an access to that deepest of caves, the Underdark.

The gnome was able to give them one final guide: an ancient parchment that contained a finely traced map of the gnome enclave. This useful document Mole took into custody, examining it for several minutes before rolling it carefully and tucking it into her belt pouch.

An hour after they had entered the shop, the four companions gathered at the base of the stair, near the secret door. The boards were cracked where the skulk had slammed into them, making the edges of the hidden portal more obvious. The dead creature had been pushed into a corner, his corpse just a lump under the cover of a carpet. Ghelve, still under the watchful eyes of the dwarf paladin, fidgeted, his hands and feet bound securely by a length of rope that Mole had found in one of the rooms upstairs. The room was dim, as they’d closed the drapes in the display window. Ghelve’s Locks was, for the moment, closed for business.

“Better gag him, too,” Mole suggested, putting her own suggestion into effect by stuffing a kerchief into his mouth even as the locksmith opened it to protest. Working quickly, she wrapped a length of cord around his head, securing the makeshift gag.

“You seem to be enjoying that,” Zenna said.

Mole shrugged. “It’s my own fault, I let him catch me off guard.” But she did seem a bit eager as she tested the gnome’s bonds, giving each a good yank and ignoring Ghelve’s grimace each time.

“I still say this is foolish,” Ruphos said. “We should contact the proper authorities... at least let me go and notify Jenya of what we found!”

“The messenger we sent will give her enough information to find her way here,” Mole said, as she stood. “But we cannot afford to delay. Remember the last line in Jenya’s divination: Half a dwarf binds them, but not for long. We have to act quickly, especially if that skulk was able to send a warning to his friends below.”

Ruphos persisted, saying, “But... we don’t know how many there are, there’s just the four of us!”

Arun sent him a cold look. “Go then, priest, if you think it best. I fear not the dark places under the earth, and certainly not those scum,” he added, indicating the lump that was the dead skulk.

“I’m not afraid,” he said defiantly, but then he shook his head. “All right, so I am afraid, but it’s also common sense! What happens if that man you hired decides not to deliver the message to Jenya, or gets run over by a wagon in the street? At least let’s rouse the Guard!”

Zenna came up behind Ruphos and touched him on the shoulder. “We’re all afraid, Ruphos; this is deadly serious stuff, not something we’re doing on a lark. But we have to assume that whoever is holding the children is going to be aware that this part of his operation has been discovered, if he hasn’t already. If we wait, or head down there with a large armed force, we may lose our chance to find them.”

Arun, who’d unlimbered his heavy shield and warhammer, looking fierce indeed in his scaled armor and helm, snorted. “Enough talking, let’s do this thing. Go with your warning, priest. Tell your friends they can follow the bodies of the evildoers we’ll leave in our wake.”

Ruphos looked at Zenna, who nodded. But the cleric swallowed and said, “All right, let’s get going then.”

Mole and Zenna exchanged a look, then moved into position behind the dwarf. Ruphos fell in behind them, hefting his mace.

Arun tucked his hammer into the crook of his shield arm, and with a mighty wrench pulled open the damaged secret door, revealing a black space beyond that waited expectantly for them.

 

[Broccli_Head]

Chapter 11

Arun, who’d unlimbered his heavy shield and warhammer, looking fierce indeed in his scaled armor and helm, snorted. “Enough talking, let’s do this thing. Go with your warning, priest. Tell your friends they can follow the bodies of the evildoers we’ll leave in our wake.”

Another great quote from the gold dwarf!

 

[Lazybones]

Chapter 12

Jzadirune.

Once a lively place, even buried deep within the earth under Cauldron’s slumbering volcano, filled with the sounds of its gnomish residents’ labors and their sport.

That was before the Vanishing came.

The product of a botched magical experiment, it crept upon the gnomes of Jzadirune like an assassin come in the night. Before they could even diagnose what went wrong, a goodly percentage of the enclave’s residents had contracted the plague, and begun the inexorable fading that would eventually lead their complete disappearance, leaving not even a drop of blood to mark that they had ever been at all.

Now Jzadirune was silent, abandoned by those who had built it... but no longer uninhabited...

Arun led the way down the stairs, negotiating the steps with ease despite his armored bulk. As a dwarf, he had no difficulty seeing in the dark, but while Zenna shared the gift of darkvision as a product of her mixed heritage, both Mole and Ruphos required light. The cleric, bringing up the rear, bore a lamp taken from Ghelve’s shop, its flickering flame casting a tenuous glow that cast long shadows ahead of his companions as they negotiated the stairs that seemed to twist ever deeper into the earth.

But finally the stairs came to an end, depositing them in a square chamber of worked stone perhaps forty feet on a side. A corridor exited the chamber on the far wall opposite where they entered, and to their left stood two unusual doors, round wooden portals set into thick thresholds of dressed stone. One of the doors was partly open, rolled aside enough so that they could see that the outer edge of the portal resembled the notched teeth of a gear. Light shone from that opening, a golden shaft that spilled out in a long angle across the room’s floor.

“Do you hear that?” Mole asked, as they came to a halt.

As the echoes of the sound of their footsteps and the clatter of their gear faded, they all could hear it, a sound of whispers, rustling leaves, and faint laughter that bordered just on the edges of their perception. The noises were merry, quite a contrast to the dark and heavy atmosphere that the abandoned hold seemed to hold for the four adventurers. The sounds persisted, not acknowledging the presence of intruders here.

“A persistent illusion, perhaps,” Zenna suggested.

“What are those?” Ruphos asked, holding his lamp aloft to get a better look at the walls. The light glinted off of metal objects that hung from the walls at regular intervals around the perimeter of the room.

“Masks,” Mole said, walking nearer the walls, scanning the room around her as she walked, her crossbow loaded and ready in her hands. “Made of copper, it looks like... hmm, I wonder how much they’re worth?”

“Careful, Mole,” Zenna said. “Something’s not right here, I can feel it.”

“Ah, you worry too much,” the gnome said. But she kept her distance close to the others.

Arun was more direct, walking straight to the partially opened door. It appeared that the round doors were designed to roll into an open space within the jam, to the side. A heavy piece of stone had been wedged into the door’s gears, holding it open. As they all gathered around the dwarf, they could see that there was writing on the door, a single rune etched in bold lines into the reinforced wooden beams of the portal.

“It’s a gnomish letter ‘A’,” Mole told them. “There’s a ‘Z’ on that other door,” she said, indicating the adjacent doorway that was fully closed.

“Decent work,” the dwarf noted, peering into the lit space beyond the door. A non-descript chamber lay beyond; the light originated from a shining object in the center of the floor. A few squat objects that were probably chests were scattered haphazardly along the walls of the room. The door wasn’t very large, and the stone held it only half-open, but the dwarf slung his shield on its long strap across his back, and cautiously grasped the door.

“Maybe I should go first, check it out,” Mole suggested helpfully.

“Patience is a virtue of the long-lived,” Arun said, as he gave the door an exploratory heave. The door rolled easily enough within its mechanism, and Mole reached in to relocate the stone to hold it more fully open. The dwarf nodded to her, and reaching for his shield, stepped forward into the room beyond the door.

And cried out in surprise as two dark forms lunged out from the shadows flanking the portal, and thrust at him with slender blades.

 

[Lazybones]

Jzadirune: Ghelve's Map

 

[wolff96]

You know, I wouldn't post this to a standard story hour, but here I don't have to worry about spoiling things for your players.

It's so ODD to see the unaltered map. As my group found doors and passages, they added them to the copy they had until the whole thing was a confusing mess. Quite cool, though.

Looking forward to more, LB!

 

[Lazybones]

Chapter 13

“Blast you blasted sneaks!” the dwarf cried out, as the pair of enemies flanking him stabbed at him. The dwarf, caught off guard, was fortunate in that the first thrust glanced off of the layered scales of armor that covered his torso. Even as he turned in that direction, though, the second attacker slipped its rapier into a gap in the armor under his arm, penetrating the thick leather there and driving several inches of the slender steel into the dwarf’s side. Arun grunted and jerked back, and his foe’s blade came away with its tip sheathed in bright red.

The ambushers—revealed as skulks, as the bright golden glow of the light on the floor shimmered on their color-shifting skin—did not stay to follow up on their assault. Even as Arun abandoned his effort to unlimber his shield and hefted his warhammer with both hands, the two skulks darted away, each toward one of two round tunnels that apparently had been bored through the walls of the room. The creatures were fast, certainly moreso than the armored dwarf, and they had nearly reached the two exits by the time Arun had readied his weapon.

Mole, however, was quicker to respond, and she leaned around the dwarf enough to get a clear bead on one of the creatures. Her crossbow snapped, and the skulk staggered as her bolt caught it high in the back of one shoulder. It recovered and would have likely escaped a moment later, but Arun tossed his heavy hammer to the floor, and with a single smooth motion drew and hurled one of the light hammers from his belt. The second missile caught the creature solidly in the base of its skull as it crouched to dart into the tunnel, and it crumpled in a heap in the rubble-strewn opening. The second creature had already vanished through the second tunnel.

Mole quickly reloaded her crossbow, and moved into the room, looking for signs of any more of the creatures. Arun recovered his warhammer and readjusted his shield, while behind them Zenna and Ruphos came warily into the room.

Mole took a look at the fallen skulk, confirming that it was dead, and scanning the tunnel to make sure no other danger lurked from that direction. The two tunnels were rough-hewn and compact, each a little less than five feet in diameter. Arun crossed to the center of the room, and the source of the light—a sunrod, its golden head shining with brilliant light.

Zenna came up behind the dwarf. “You’re hurt,” she said, noting the streak of blood where the skulk had scored with his rapier. “Ruphos...” The cleric was already coming over, but Arun forestalled him with a raised hand.

“Save your healing,” the dwarf rumbled. “I’m fine.”

“Ah, just like a man,” Mole said, joining them. “Pretend it doesn’t hurt, and maybe it will go away. Look, we need you to be at one hundred percent... the next skulks might not decide to run away so quickly.”

“You remind me of my brother’s wife,” the dwarf returned. “There was no peace for any man when that woman was about!” But he did not protest as Ruphos came over and took a look at the injury, and called upon the healing power of Helm to aid him.

“One got away,” Mole said, indicating the tunnel in the wall to the side. “Might be back with friends.”

“Should we retreat?” Ruphos asked, but by the look on his face, he knew the answer even before Arun turned on him.

“Retreat? After a little tussle like that? Wasn’t even a proper battle!”

“Which way, then?” Mole said, returning to the passage where the dead skulk lay. She was the only one of them short enough to move freely within the tunnel without bending over, and leaned inside, wrinking her nose as she glanced down at the dead skulk.

“Careful, Mole,” Zenna warned. “There may be others in ambush, waiting for us.”

“Oh, I’m sure there are,” the gnome said distractedly. She’d taken Ghelve’s map from her pouch, and held it up to catch the light from the sunrod on the floor. “These tunnels aren’t on the map,” she reported. “This one forks after a ways, and I can see another light from somewhere ahead.”

“Let us go this way,” Arun said. “I do not think that we will catch that one that fled before he warns his comrades, but we may yet catch some in this direction unawares.”

“Okay,” Mole said, but even as she started down the narrow tunnel, Arun forestalled her.

“Let me take the lead,” he said.

The gnome frowned. “I can handle myself, and I’m a lot quieter than you are in all that metal.”

“I have no doubt of that,” Arun said. “But I have extensive experience in underground areas and tunnels like this one, and we’ll be traveling close together, and with our own light, so whoever’s down there will detect us coming anyway.”

“He’s got a point,” Zenna said.

“Let’s just get going,” Ruphos said, eyeing the other tunnel where the second skulk had escaped.

Wary of another ambush, the companions pressed on, stepping over one slain foe and creeping into the confines of the rough tunnel.

The tunnel was just under five feet in diameter, forcing even the squat—but wide—Arun to scrunch himself a bit to avoid scraping his shield or armored elbow against the uneven walls. The corridor appeared to have been rough-hewn from the solid stone of the volcano, although the dwarf remarked that the work was unusual, and that he couldn’t quite identify the method used for the excavation. With that mystery added to the total tally presented by Jzadirune, the companions pressed on.

After just a short distance the tunnel branched to the left and right. To the right the tunnel split again after about ten feet, with a side passage jutting left. The light that Mole had seen seemed to come from that direction, so Arun led them that way, with the others close behind. The dwarf held his heavy hammer at the ready, with Mole and Zenna with their crossbows loaded and ready to shoot, while Ruphos brought up the rear nervously with his mace held tightly in one hand, the lamp in the other. Every few steps the cleric shot a wary glance backward, peering into the dark length of the tunnel for any signs of pursuit. As the tallest member of the company, he had the most difficulty in the confines of the tunnel, bending low and frequently scraping his head on the rugged ceiling.

“And she complains about me making noise,” the dwarf grumbled to himself as they reached the second fork and headed toward the light.

After the turning the tunnel continued for only another ten feet or so before it emerged into a copious, vaulted chamber. The light came from a series of flickering globes that hung in the air, floating idly back and forth. The place was the largest open space they’d yet encountered in the complex, easily a hundred feet in length from where they stood to the far wall, where a fountain of sorts could be seen. Twin rows of pillars stretched down the length of the chamber, flanking a central isle a good twenty feet across. Several more mundane passages than the tunnel by which they’d arrived were visible along the side walls, and a few of the round rune-doors were visible in their familiar stone lintels.

The companions left the confines of the tunnel and cautiously moved forward into the room. Clearly this had been a gathering place of sorts, and the gnomes had put a great deal of effort into improvements. Faded murals covered the walls, and the thick pillars had been carved into the forms of gnomes standing upon the shoulders of their comrades, all the way to the ceiling high above.

“Lots of shadows,” Mole commented. “Lots of places to hide.” The others nodded, recognizing what the gnome had; while the magical dancing flames provided enough light to illuminate the entire chamber, their flickers and movements made that illumination very conducive to the sneaking of the treacherous skulks.

“By the fountain,” Arun said, gesturing with his hammer. They could see that to one side of the fountain, at the far end of the chamber, several piles of loose rubble were scattered near another tunnel entrance. The four adventurers started in that direction.

As they passed one of the glowing globes, Mole reached up and touched it, smiling as her hand passed through the flickering light.

“Careful, Mole!” Zenna hissed in warning.

“Oh, it’s just another illusion,” Mole said. “It’s not like I haven’t seen this sort of thing, you know.”

Zenna turned, frowning. She knew, and it was yet another reminder of the life she’d chosen to leave behind.

They were nearing the center of the room, having passed by several of the side corridors that exited the hall, when suddenly Mole stiffened.

“What is it?” Zenna whispered.

“I thought I heard something,” she replied, scanning the darkness.

“I didn’t hear anything,” Ruphos murmured. But they all heard the next sound, a few moments later, the familiar twang of crossbows being fired.

 

[Broccli_Head]

You forgot to have someone yell:

Ambush!!!!

 

[Lazybones]

I've set up the Rogues' Gallery for this story, here. Characters were created using the 3.5 SRD (still haven't gotten my PH from Amazon yet ).

Already one change has created a minor incongruity in the story; paladins don't get Lay on Hands until 2nd level. Feel free to post errors/suggestions in the RG thread, and of course your comments here on the story or characters are always welcome.

Update tomorrow.

 

[Lazybones]

Chapter 14

The first bolt glanced off of Arun’s shield, skittering off one of the pillars with a noisy clatter. A heartbeat later, a second sliced out of the shadows in the direction of the fountain, clipping Mole on the side of the neck as it shot past. Had the unseen crossbowman’s aim been a few inches to the left, the gnome would have been in serious trouble, but as it was the bolt merely grazed her.

Arun’s reaction was quick and decisive. Rumbling some dwarven warcry, the paladin of Moradin hurled himself forward into a full-out charge toward the fountain and the source of the missiles. Mole hefted her crossbow and took careful aim, firing into the shadow where the bolt that had come at her had originated. Her return shot vanished into the shadows, although it was uncertain at first if she’d hit anything.

“Come on,” she urged the others, drawing her shortsword and rushing after Arun.

Zenna took a step after her, but hesitated. Ruphos had taken up his holy symbol, holding it in one fist while clutching the lamp and mace awkwardly together in the other. His expression had shifted to that vacant look that it took on when he was communing with his patron, a look that Zenna understood, even though the source of her power was the Weave, rather than the might of some god. His lips moved, although Zenna could not make out the words that issued from his lips.

Whatever spell he cast, it only took a few seconds, and she could not immediately determine the result. She did, however, see the crossbow bolt than sank with a meaty thunk into the back of his thigh. Ruphos staggered forward with the impact, barely keeping his feet as he clutched at the protruding bolt. The lamp, however, fell from his grasp, smashing onto the floor with a crash that was immediately followed by a blaze of burning oil that spread outward into a fiery puddle on the stone floor of the chamber.

Zenna’s eyes widened in horror and she scanned the end of the chamber and the tunnel from which they’d come, and where the bolt had to have originated. She could see nothing but shadows, though, continuing to shift as the magical globes of light twisted and danced.

The cleric also turned, limping heavily as he drew back from the spreading pool of flaming oil. He looked confused, and wasn’t able to react in time to avoid a second bolt that streaked from the shadows to catch him hard high in the chest. His armor absorbed some of the impact, but the bolt still sank several inches into his shoulder, and he cried out as he fell to one knee, blood fanning out across his tabard from the wound. He wavered there, only barely remaining upright, a stricken look on his face.

Zenna was already moving, rushing to Ruphos’s side. Although she could still not see their attackers, she knew that the skulks would reload quickly enough. She grabbed the cleric roughly by the shoulder, and felt something tear inside her as Ruphos screamed again in pain as she pulled at him.

“We’ve got to get to cover!” she yelled back, all but dragging him to his feet. The two of them lurched over to the shelter of one of the nearby pillars. Ruphos sagged to the ground against the base of the pillar as she released him, his face pale and his breathing labored. She was dimly aware of the noises of battle on the far side of the room, where Mole and Arun had engaged the original group of ambushers. Her attention, however, was fixed on those behind, and on the wounded man clinging precariously to consciousness at her feet. As if to confirm the threat, a bolt suddenly glanced off of the pillar less than a foot from her face, ricocheting wildly off into the shadows. Suddenly she caught sight of movement, and the gleam of metal glinting in the flame of the dancing lights. A rapier, a first appearing disembodied like the magical glows, until her eyes adjusted and she could make out the color-shifting form of the skulk holding the weapon. A moment later she spotted a second, even as it lowered its empty crossbow and drew its own rapier.

Apparently they’d seen her as well, as they charged straight for the pillar that sheltered her and Ruphos, separating to come at them from both sides at once.

Zenna ducked back behind the pillar, her heart pounding in her chest, knowing that they would be on her in a few seconds. She glanced down and saw the Ruphos had lost consciousness, a bright red stain continuing to spread across his jerkin from the wound in his shoulder.

Steeling herself, she took a deep breath, and started walking backwards.

She was about six feet away from the pillar when the skulks appeared, one from around each side of the granite shaft. At this range, she could see them clearly, even though the shifting light and continuously changing color of their skin combined to make it difficult. They glanced down at the fallen cleric, clearly no longer a threat, and then at her. She continued to retreat, moving at a deliberate pace, even though her instincts told her to run.

The skulks exchanged a glance and came for her, warily but with their intent clear.

She’d readied the spell, and the words came pouring from her lips, her hands weaving a pattern that echoed the complex matrix of the Weave that powered magic in the Realms. The skulks realized what she was doing and rushed at her, but before they could draw close enough to strike her color spray engulfed them. The blaze of light lasted only a heartbeat, but when the afterimage had faded, both skulks were lying on the ground, unconscious.

As Zenna reached for her dagger, she felt a surge of memory of another encounter on the road to Cauldron, a memory accompanied by a surge of revulsion. But there was no way around it; the spell only incapacitated a foe for a few seconds, and she had no illusions about what these skulks would do to her and her friends if they got a second chance.

A short time later she was crouching beside Ruphos. His breathing had grown weaker, but at least he still lived to draw breath. Gently she took his head and drew it back until his mouth opened, and then she upended the vial given to her by Jenya into the dying cleric.

There wasn’t much liquid in the vial, not enough to choke him, and almost as soon as it entered his body the healing power infused into the fluid began its work. Zenna gritted her teeth and yanked the bolt out of Ruphos’s shoulder, twisting it free of the torn links of chain of his armor shirt. Even as she drew it out, the wound closed, the flow of blood ceasing. She attended to the bolt in his leg in the same fashion, aiding the healing magic as it finished its work.

Ruphos opened his eyes. The healing potion had been potent; the man’s serious wounds had been fully cured. For a moment he just looked up at her, something flashing deep within those deep brown eyes as she stared at her. The scrutiny was enough to make Zenna suddenly blush, and she quickly drew back, rising into an awkward crouch. He opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by another voice from behind the mage.

“Are you all right?”

Zenna and Ruphos turned to see Mole, a look of concern on her face. She looked unhurt, although the shortsword in her hand was slick with blood. She glanced down at the two dead skulks, regarding them with a matter-of-fact appraisal that seemed odd coming from a girl who would still be considered a teenager, by human standards. As Ruphos nodded, and got up, Mole gestured back toward the fountain.

“We got one, but the second fled into the tunnel. Arun chased after him, but we’d better help him! Hurry!”

She darted back toward the tunnel, the others close behind.

 

[Lazybones]

Jzadirune: DM's Map