The Raid
The elf’s arrow caught the first drow unaware and plunged into its throat, killing it instantly. The dark elves were quick to react, however. The other warrior waved his arm in Malobar’s direction and the elf found himself wreathed in flickering green flames. Then another dark elf appeared, a female in glittering mithral chain who floated slowly out of the hole, chanting and pointing in the rogue’s direction. He felt his limbs stiffen and fought against the spell, barely managing to resist the priestess. Another male flew out of the shaft and fired a loaded crossbow at him, the bolt piercing his leather, the poison starting to race through his veins. In the background he heard a dark elf yelling, “The surface dwellers are camped right here! Alert the web team!”
Crap, he thought and bolted down the side passage. He heard soft footfalls behind him as the dark elves started to pursue. The priestess shouted another spell at him and a wave of sorrow hit him and almost knocked him to his knees, overcome with the sudden grief, but once again Malobar managed to resist the drow’s spell and continued running as crossbow bolts skipped off the stones around him. The flying male added his voice to the din and four streaks of eldritch energy flew from his fingertips and struck the elf in the back.
Malobar stumbled but thought, I must not fall, and ran on. He concentrated on the terrain before him and cut a straight line across the edge of the hidden pit, hoping to lure some of his pursuers into the trap. He let a grin of satisfaction creep onto his features as he heard the startled yell of the first two warriors behind him, followed by the crashing of their bodies to the spikes below, but then four more tongues of emerald fire bit into him and the expression faded into pain as he continued his desperate flight.
*****
The others jumped to their feet at the sound of the whistle. “Oh, this is not good,” Jack grumbled.
Quinn turned to Grick, “You’re the fastest, Grick. Run to the entrance and see what the alarm is for, then come back and let us know. We will prepare for trouble as best as we are able.”
The half-orc nodded and sprinted out of the chamber. He reached the end when he heard the elf call for him and turning, saw the glowing green form of Malobar hurtling out of the darkness in his direction.
“Drow raiders, Grick!” the elf shouted. “They have us trapped - we have to fight!” In answer to the rogue’s cries tongues of emerald flame shot out of the darkness and slammed into him, knocking him sprawling at the monk’s feet.
Grick knelt and found his companion to be unconscious but still breathing. Then a gasp of astonishment was torn from his lips as he suddenly became surrounded by an aura of violet flames. A split second later a crossbow bolt hit him in the side and the world went dark.
Thinking quickly, the monk ripped the bolt free and stuffed it into his pants. Sure enough, the magical darkness vanished as soon as the missile was obscured and the half-orc could see again. He grabbed the limp form of Malobar and tossed it over his shoulder, then raced back towards camp yelling.
Artimas had followed the monk from the room, sorting through his scroll organizer as he walked. He soon found what he was looking for and invoked the spell from the aged parchment, allowing him to cling to sheer surfaces like a spider. He ascended to the ceiling before continuing, and rounded the corner just in time to see the monk be highlighted by the faerie fire.
Fools, thought the necromancer, I knew we should have sealed the wall behind us. I will not share their fate, he vowed, they can face this battle without my aid. With this decision, the mage pressed himself into the crack between two large stalactites, pulled his piwafwi tightly about himself, and remained as still and unmoving as possible.
Meanwhile, the dwarves had spent their time casting their few remaining spells in preparation for the looming assault. Quinn still wore her armor, but Jack had removed his suit for the evening and it was clear to him he didn’t have time to strap it back on. He cursed the bebilith that had ruined his armor’s enchantment and deprived him of its protection for the coming ordeal, then cast a spell that surrounded him with a blinking field of multi-colored lights that would serve to deflect incoming missile weapons. He would have to rely upon this, his shield, and his faith for protection now. Jack gripped his axe determinedly and moved up to the first bend in the corridor, ready to chop into the first enemy to appear.
Grick rounded the corner and rushed up to Quinn, dumping the elf at her feet and hurriedly explaining the situation to the best of his ability. As she knelt to tend to the stricken rogue, the monk readied his crossbow and moved to back up the templar. Jack turned as he approached and asked, “So, where’s Artimas?”
The half-orc only responded with a puzzled stare, so the dwarf elaborated, “He followed ya out ta see what was happenin. Didn’t ya see what happened ta him?”
Grick shook his head. “Never saw the wizard. Didn’t pass me and I didn’t pass him.”
Jack cursed. “I knew it! The necromancer’s abandoned us at last. Found a way out and took it, like the snake he’s always been.”
Quinn finished reviving Malobar, drew her mace, and moved to join the others. The elf, awake once more, drank a potion of spider climb and moved up to the ceiling, trying to hide himself behind a stalactite despite the faerie fire still outlining him. As he struggled to find the perfect place, the drow venom finished coursing through his veins and he fell fast asleep, falling with a clatter to the cavern floor.
The tension grew as the heroes waited, and waited, and waited still. Finally, when their nerves were so taut they had started to shake, one of the skinless undead creatures crashed around the corner and charged. Jack was ready for it and brought his axe around and into the beast, cleaving through undead flesh and sinew. Grick fired his crossbow into it at point blank range and retreated, although the undead still showed no sign of slowing. It halted and punched a fist into Jack, its acidic blood splashing across his naked skin, and then a second creature appeared around the corner and also threw itself towards the dwarf. The undead were closely followed by a pair of dark elves, who stopped and waved their arms upon sighting the party, cloaking both of the dwarves in the colorful lights that already outlined Malobar and Grick.
Something snapped inside of Jack then - the dwarf’s courage evaporated and the only thought left in his skull became the frantic desire for survival. He batted one of the aberrations away with his shield and broke from the combat, ignoring a stinging blow as he withdrew. Running back to the gently snoring rogue, he grasped a steel vial from his potion belt and threw the contents down his throat. As the effects of the potion of flight began to take hold Jack activated his boots of speed and flew over the heads of his enemies, seeking to escape above all else.
“Jack!” Quinn screamed as she tried to stave off the attacks of the monsters before her, but the warrior did not slow. Ignoring several stinging crossbow hits and even a bolt of lightning from one of the assembled drow, the dwarf sped around the corner and out of sight. Sobbing, Quinn broke from the fight and called upon her last powerful spell, sealing the tunnel with a wall of hewn granite.
She retreated to the small room where they’d made camp and helped Grick move the sleeping elf out of the way. The monk pointed to the wall keeping their enemies at bay and asked, “Good spell. Are we safe now?”
Quinn shook her head as the first blows began to fall on the barricade from the other side.
