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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Lazybones" data-source="post: 1594236" data-attributes="member: 143">Chapter 152“Ugly sucker, even without its head.”Mole’s expression was almost comically serious as she stared up at the headless statue of the demon, but Zenna could not disagree.  She did not recognize the monstrosity that was depicted in the rough-hewn carving, which even shortened stood a good nine feet tall above the chipped stone platform on which it rested.  It had four arms and a muscled body, but time and the harsh environment of the jungle had removed all other details from the statue.  Dannel had found its head nearby, a worn slab of stone that had a vague dog-like look to it.  “Well, the elf has found the trail, and there’s only so much day left to us.  We’d best be on our way,” Arun said.  Zenna turned away from the statue, feeling a shiver despite the damp heat of the jungle.  Not that the heat bothered her, really; her mixed heritage would make this journey much easier for her than for her companions, particularly those clad in heavy armor.  She made a mental note to take a spell of create water in addition to the purification spell she already possessed, the next time she meditated.  She caught sight of Morgan, standing by the edge of the forest.  If the heat gave him any difficulty, he refused to show it.  The cleric had returned to normal size shortly after the end of the battle, and had quickly treated the wounds he had suffered using scrolls scribed with healing spells.  He seemed to be husbanding his own reservoir of power, a strategy that Zenna acknowledged; they had no idea what might be waiting for them in the jungle, and she doubted that whoever had ambushed them would simply give up and let them pass unmolested.  She and Dannel had used a few charges from their own healing wands to treat the injuries suffered by the others; even if Morgan hadn’t had there wherewithal to help himself, she wasn’t sure he would have accepted her assistance anyway. On that dour thought, she walked over to join the others as they set out down the trail.  Within ten minutes, she’d mentally revised that definition of their route.  “Trail” was only a loose approximation of the winding, tortuous path that wound roughly northward into the jungle, the entire route choked with dense growth that encroached from both sides.  Clearly at least some traffic came though here; they could see occasional signs of damage to the brush and Dannel occasionally pointed out the prints of some unidentified creature or another.  They had to pause for brief rests frequently.  The dwarves, in particular, were soon drenched in sweat, and Zenna had to chide them frequently to drink often from the waterskins they all carried.  In the damp heat their supply of water was depleted quickly, with both dwarves running dry only a few hours into the trek, but Dannel was able to find a stream easily and with a purify spell from Zenna they were able to restore their caches and press on. Throughout the hike, they could feel the jungle’s teeming life all around them, pressing in as though the forest itself were sentient and resented their intrusion.  Bird calls, animal cries, and the omnipresent buzz of insects were only the most common noises they heard; many sounds that rose from deeper in the forest beyond the trail could not easily be identified.  By the time that the diffuse light drifting down from the dense canopy above began to grow dim, they were all exhausted and rather ragged from nearly six hours of difficult travel. “I thought you dwarves were supposed to have stamina,” Morgan snapped, during one of their breaks.  The cleric seemed as unaffected by the heat as he’d appeared earlier, despite the fact that his armor and gear had to by a huge burden upon him.  “Bragh,” Hodge said, pausing to suck in a breath in between gulps from his waterskin.  “The day I let a puny manling walk me into the ground...”  He spat noisily.  “Put me up agin yet on a mountain trail, I’ll show you stamina.  But this damned place,” he said, wiping his brow with the back of his hand, “if this wet be gettin’ any thicker, we’ll be swimmin’, not walkin’!”The cleric chuckled, and Zenna belatedly realized that she should have anticipated this problem, that her clerical spells could help both dwarves withstand the heat—as Morgan had no doubt already done, she now understood.  But before she could make the offer, the cleric was already speaking. “On the morrow I will ask Helm to extend his blessings to you two,” he said.  “So that you can keep up.”Hodge bristled, and looked about to retort with a curse, but Arun silenced him by standing up and hefting his pack.  “Let us be on our way, then,” he said.  “It will be dark soon, and we should find a secure place to camp.”“I’d just take a slight breeze,” Mole said. They pushed on down the trail as the shadows gradually deepened.  The map on the silver plate bore no key to scale, so the short distance between the river and the first landmark, an apparent cave marked as, “Home,” could have been a few miles or a few leagues.  They were a bit concerned about meeting the creator of the map, but Dannel pointed out that the fact that Alec had sold the plate suggested that said owner was likely no longer around to complain. And then, so suddenly that they were upon it almost before they realized it, the trail emerged onto another clearing. The clearing stretched out before them wasn’t large, perhaps fifty paces across, and was situated against the base of a hillock that rose from the jungle floor like a camel’s hump.  The ground slanted slightly down toward the point where clearing and hill met, and visible there at that intersection of the two they could just make out a dark opening that could possibly be a cave.  “Are those what I think they are?” Mole asked, drawing their attention to the sloping, uneven ground leading down to the cave.  The others could see what she had spotted, occasional white objects scattered, half-buried in the tortured earth of the slope. “Bones,” Arun said, grimly. “Well, we know Alec made it back from here, anyway, right?” Mole asked, starting forward. Her first step into the clearing was accompanied by a loud sound that originated somewhere in the forest behind them.  It sounded as though something were tearing the very fabric of the jungle asunder, a great ripping and crashing noise that was growing louder.  Fast. “Something’s coming,” Morgan said needlessly. “Yer tryin’ to cap the elf’s rep for statin’ the obvious, eh?” Hodge said, sparing a look at the quiver of fat bolts at his hip before settling on his axe.  Morgan opened his mouth to reply, but Zenna cut him off.  “The question is, do we face it in the open, or in the jungle?” “I’d rather see what I’m facing, and have room to maneuver,” Arun said, already moving out into the open space.  Dannel, meanwhile, had dug into his pouch and had produced a pair of silk slippers, which he quickly switched out for his narrow boots.  “I’ll take a look,” he said, picking the nearest tree and darting nimbly up its trunk through the power of his slippers of spider climbing. Mole watched him ascend with a sigh of regret. “Zenna, Mole, get behind us,” Arun said, as he, Hodge, and Morgan spread out in a concave line facing the jungle’s edge.  Zenna nodded and moved away from the loud crashing sound, which was getting close enough for her to see vines, bushes, and smaller trees shuddering from the passage of whatever was approaching.  Through a gap in the foliage she caught a glimpse of something bulky, and big.  Mole, of course, had vanished somewhere. “Here it comes!” Dannel’s voice came down from above.  “Still the champ!” Hodge growled.  “What is it?” Morgan shouted up, drawing back one arm, a javelin ready to throw. “It’s...” the elf trailed off, uncertain.  Zenna saw him draw back his bow, and fire into the undergrowth. Then a thick wall of brush ten feet to the left of the trailhead parted, and it appeared, coming at them in a full charge.</blockquote>

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