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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Softwind" data-source="post: 1289331" data-attributes="member: 13893">Betrayal!!Twenty-first Session (Apr 03, part 1) Deep within the dark confines of the mine, at the lowest level, rubble and fallen stone litter the ground, making travel difficult. Scuttling noises surround them, bouncing and reverberating from the walls, lending no clue to their origins. The Companions stay on guard, abandoning quiet movements, defeated before they began by the guards’ armor, and the rough footing. Caution, however, is not set aside. Weapons drawn, they continue to seek out the source of the infestation. It becomes apparent that the noise they have been hearing is retreating before them, leading them on to an unknown resolution. They follow the sounds until they come to a tunnel entrance that shows signs of recent collapse; within the past month or so, evidenced by the broken bodies of several dwarven miners and guards. Most of the flesh is gone, only the remnants of gear, and the shape of the bones gives a clue to the race of the corpses. There is an opening near the ceiling that seems to lead past the barrier of stone. The Companions head up the pile of rubble and duck into the tunnel beyond. Brynn, standing in the opening, gestures to the guardsmen to head up the hill and join the party. He is startled when they refuse. “What do you mean, this is as far as you go? I’m telling you, get in there!” “We have our orders. We go no further than here.” Brynn squints, eyeing them closely. “Orders? Whose orders?” He points at the tunnel. “You know what’s beyond here, don’tcha? What do we face?” “We have our orders,” Curly reiterates. “We go no further. Do not force our hand…”With a growl, Brynn makes motions of returning to the cavern floor, but before he can act, one of the guards throws a spherical leather bag at him. He ducks back into the tunnel just as an explosion rocks the area. Pelted by rocks falling from above, he runs towards where the rest of the Companions await. With a roar, the ceiling above the tunnel collapses, forcing the party further inside. Before they can recover their wits, several ant-scorpions leap from ambush. The area goes pitch black, and the mobs descend upon the unsteady adventurers. Putting aside thoughts of vengeance against their betrayers, the group digs in for a protracted battle. Without knowledge of how many they face, or exactly where they are, the party fights with fierce determination and some amount of panic-fed frenzy. They relentlessly push the attack, taking the battle to their foes. Stinger after stinger pierces their defenses, but by sheer will alone they overcome the venom coursing through their bodies. Blades running thick with ichor, bodies rent and torn, they yet remain standing when the darkness disperses. Even stout Brynn gasps in surprise at the numbers that they had slain. Blood streaming from her wounds too numerous to count, Athena nonetheless tends to others before she pauses to stem her own flow. Once eased of her pain, Genoa wields her druid arts to assist as well. Tired, but determined, the victors plan their assault upon their betrayers beyond the ruble sealing them from the rest of the mine. Brynn’s eyes gleam as he holds up the helm they had found on a previous adventure. The rest recognize it as the item able to teleport a certain number of them at a time. At their puzzled looks and inquiries, Brynn explain that its magic can be called upon three times before it is exhausted for the day.  “Once, half the party is whisked to the other side, hopefully behind our foes. Twice, I return. Thrice, we stand in full strength again,” the dwarven ranger counts off on his fingers. His smile is echoed on his friends’ faces. Quickly, they separate into groups by total weight, knowing the limits on the helm. Brynn gathers to him Skylar, Tombit and Athena, the ones he knows can maintain silence if needed. Genoa, Qonos and Grimnyr watch as their friends disappear, then step back a few paces, just in case Brynn doesn’t quite remember the return location. With a *pop* of displaced air, the ranger returns. Another moment sees the group returned to full strength, together, some distance from the guards, who still stood watching the tunnel. “Makin’ sure we ain’t coming back out, I figger,” grumbles Grimnyr. Brynn chuckles, deep in his throat, a chilling sound. “I believe we should return the favor.” Then he sobers, and tells the group, “Nay, try to capture them alive. We must know why they sought to kill us, or at least trap us beyond.” With the assent of the party, he moves forward to challenge the three guards.</blockquote>

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