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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Lazybones" data-source="post: 1102630" data-attributes="member: 143">Man, if you ever get a chance to go to Portland, be sure to check out Powell's City of Books.  In addition to about 1000 square feet of Fantasy-Sci Fi fiction, there's a ton of d20 stuff including an extensive selection of out of print 1st and 2nd edition D&D material.  Sweet bookstore!* * * * * Chapter 33 “Now, promise me that you won’t do anything that stupid again!” Zenna said, still hovering protectively over her friend.  “I promise, as long as you promise to not let me!” Mole swore.  The rogue looked much better now that Ruphos had fully restored her using the wand, although she was still pale and her gaze never quite made it back to the statue that loomed over all of them in the center of the room.  Battered by their struggle against the chain-monster, the companions had taken some time to rest and recover.  Arun and Ruphos had consumed the potions give to them by Jenya, healing most of the damage they’d taken from the chain-monster’s attacks.  Ruphos reported that the healing wand was nearly depleted of power, another reminder that they had to be especially careful from here on out.  Finishing their search of the room, Fellian uncovered another secret door, a panel in the wall opposite the one through which they’d entered.  Leaving that for the moment, they elected to take a quick look behind the barred northern doors.  Arun lifted the heavy bar, laying it carefully to the side before returning to face the thick portals. “Clearly this was designed to keep something out,” Fellian commented.  “Careful,” Zenna cautioned.  After what had just happened to Mole, no one offered a comment this time.  Arun pushed open one of the doors.  They were thick, with several layers of thick planks reinforced with sturdy bands of iron.  That, at least, explained why nothing had been drawn by the noise they’d made in the room.  As soon as Arun was able to get the door open enough to see the dark space beyond, they could hear a whistling sound, a cavernous noise of air moving through vast spaces underground.  Ruphos’s torch cast a fitful glow in a radius just bright enough to indicate that the space beyond was much greater.  They stood upon a broad stone ledge facing a gaping chasm, over which a stone bridge arced over to the far side.  All around them was a great dark, with other faintly audible sounds in the distance that could have been anything. “What is this place?” Ruphos breathed. “The Underdark,” Arun said.  Most of them started at that, for most of the surface-dwellers of Faerûn had at least heard of that vast network deep under the sunlit surface of the world, a place full of terrible dangers and strange wonders in the legends and fables of those above.  It was the home for some of the most powerful and mysterious races of the Realms; the drow, the duergar, the illithids, and others whose names were known only to sages.  “Are you certain?” Zenna asked.  “I did not realize that we were that far underground.”Arun looked up at her.  “I know,” he said.  “I can smell it in the air, feel it... all my people can.  There are numerous places where the network connects to the surface world, like under the Great Rift where the holds of the gold dwarves lay.”“We’ve heard stories,” Mole said.  “None of them made it sound like a very nice place.”“Indeed,” Arun said, his hand tightening noticeable on the haft of his great hammer. “Let us return to the fortress,” Ruphos said, his voice tight.  “Our goal does not lie within these tunnels.”Grimly, they turned and retreated to the statue-chamber, closing and rebarring the heavy doors behind them.  Next they made their way to the secret door, Fario opening it to reveal a short passage beyond that culminated in two plain wooden doors.  The half-elf warrior led the way, with Arun clunking along close behind.  The nimble strides of the half-elf contrasted sharply with the heavy steps of the dwarf, but the effectiveness of both had been proven already on this mission.  The others followed as they made their way to the doors.  Fario listened at both, but shook his head.  “Let’s try this one,” Mole suggested, starting toward the right door.  Arun, however, blocked her with his shield.  The girl looked up at him with a frown. “Look, I appreciate you saving my life and all, but you don’t have to coddle me.”“No,” the dwarf replied.  “But if there’s trouble behind that door, the elves and I should go in first.”“He’s right, Mole,” Zenna said.  “You don’t have to prove anything to us.”Mole looked up at all of them, nodded—somewhat reluctantly, it seemed—and gave way.Fario nodded to the dwarf, and opened the door. Immediately a potent stench overwhelmed the companions, and they looked upon a dank chamber decorated in a disturbing fashion.  Nooks had been carved into the walls, and were festooned with an array of polished skulls of various shapes and sizes.  In between those grisly ornaments, poorly cured hides were stretched and fastened to the walls.  The center of the room was dominated by a great chair apparently fashioned from bones, its high back surmounted by a great draconic skull.  Behind this, in the far corner, they could see a nest of carrion and sprouting fungi, likely the source of the rank odor that filled the place.  “Disgusting,” Fario said.  “The quarters of the master of this place, perhaps?” Fellian suggested.    “In any case, he doesn’t seem to be at home,” Ruphos said.  “We’d best press on.”“We should check it out, make sure there’s nothing of importance here,” Mole said.  She started forward, but again Arun forestalled her. “We’ll come back if need be,” the dwarf said.  “First things first.”The gnome sighed, and fell in with the others as they moved to the second door.  Once again Fario took up a position against the portal, checking to make sure that the others were ready before he pushed it open.  This room was both lit and occupied.  Another of the iron cages dangled from the ceiling, this one containing a small, two-foot beetle with glands behind its eyes that shed a ruddy, reddish glow.  The place was clearly a guardroom, with four beds about the perimeter and a table and benches in the center.  A pair of hobgoblins sat at the table, eating and drinking, while another pair were sleeping in two of the beds.  A single door in the far wall was the only obvious exit. The hobgoblins looked up as the door opened, and quickly grabbed their weapons as they spotted the intruders. “Brak-geddek!” one of the cried, as they leapt to the attack. “Here we go again,” came Mole’s voice from within the knot of adventurers.</blockquote>

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