Last time, in the KNIGHTS OF SPELLFORGE KEEP story hour: “Myorlo, hear sound?”
“No, what?”
“Sound like flapping. Big bird!” Rurrgh turned to look behind him. “Rurrgh no see bird. What-“
Just then, Myorlo watched Rurrgh fly apart. His chest opened with deep wounds. His arm was torn away. His head was ripped off, just above the jaw. Rurrgh turned from good-natured hill giant to a pile or wet red pulp in the space of six seconds. Myorlo heard a deep-throated roar and saw a cone of frost and ice form in the sky above him, freezing several fire giants to the ground just yards away. “ATTACK!” Myorlo screamed. “WE UNDER ATTACK!!”
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A troll nearby had seen Myorlo’s head fall from his shoulders, and ran to the center of the camp, where a large barrel and several stacked rocks were kept. The troll reached into the barrel and withdrew a large clay pot, dripping with water. It looked large enough to hold maybe several gallons of fluid. He hurled the pot to where Myorlo had been. Shade watched the pot come down and hit the ground.
With a crack and a fiery rush of air, Shade was surrounded in leaping flames. He screamed and his lungs filled with flame.
Another troll removed a pot from the barrel… just before the barrel lifted from the ground and flew jerkily to the gate. It positioned itself above three frost giants, then dropped. The barrel exploded in a firestorm of wooden shrapnel. The giants within screamed, and Gryph, above, laughed.
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Gryph swooped down and helped Shade defeat the hill giant. Shade cut it across the chest, and it groaned, fell back, and crashed through a tent. All that was left now was cleanup… the gnolls and humans wouldn’t be enough trouble to worry about.
Then… what was that noise? Gryph turned to look behind him. He saw nothing, as Rurrgh had. It sounded like flapping.
Gryph’s head rocked back as four huge claws raked across it. Stars shot in front of his eyes and he almost fell over from the blow. When he focused his vision again, he saw a dragon swimming into vision. One like him- a red dragon. Except much, much bigger. It was maybe thirty feet long, from tip to tail. A mature adult. It bashed him with a wing, then clawed him again.
Apparently it could see through their invisibility, and only bothered to disguise itself for its approach. It roared something that sounded like laughing.
Shade ran forward and tried to slash and cut at the dragon’s forelimbs. “Gryph, I can’t see you, are you alright?” he yelled.
“Barely,” the smaller dragon grunted as blood poured from his mouth. He couldn’t take many more hits like that, he knew. He lashed out and swiped a chunk out of the greater dragon's chest.
Grumbar, on the other side of the camp, saw a red dragon roughly four times as large as Gryph rearing up and roaring above the flames. “That’s not Gryph!” he shouted to himself, and started to move forward. He stopped. “Wait, it could be. He’s a shapeshifter. He could shift BIGGER.” He stood thinking. “But… Hmmm…”
After a while, he decided to go investigate simply because he’d slain all the available enemies on this side. He set his jaw and ran towards the flames. He jumped over the crisped corpses of the frost giants and disappeared into the fire.
He burst from the other side of the inferno, twenty feet away. Smoke billowed from the thatches of hair on his head. He yelped as he ran. “Ow, ow, ow, ow…” He was coming close to the dragon. He yelled upward. “Gryph, that you?”
“No!” a voice shouted from an invisible nearby source. “Kill it!”
“HRARRR!” Grumber threw himself at the dragon and began slicing into it like a drunken butcher. It roared and smashed the half-orc with a wicked backhand, then sent Shade and Jo’nas sprawling in the dirt with a whiplike stroke of its tail. It spread its wings and flew up, inhaling. It clearly meant to bathe them all in dragonfire.
It leaned forward and started to exhale, then its breath caught in its throat. Its scales rippled muddy red, then paled to a dull gray. Its eyes glazed over and turned opaque black. It fell out of the sky. A gnoll holding a spear ran by, looked up, and whined just as it was crushed by the force of the dragon, which crumbled to sharp pieces of boulder when it struck the ground.
Gryph caught his breath, looked around, and saw Kizzlorn standing fifty feet behind him, floating in the air. She smiled sheepishly and said “That’s the second time that’s worked.”
While Jo’nas healed the wounded, Kizzlorn recounted to brief but odd tale of the time she’d turned a continent-threatening titan to stone… destroying it with the first attack of combat. “It looks like big creatures just aren’t ready for a simple spell like that,” Kizz boasted.
Gryph smashed the cage around the three barrels at the north end of the camp. He picked one of the barrels up and heard liquid sloshing about inside. “The mead,” he said as he threw it down to the ground, where the barrel shattered. Water splashed up and fell all around the ground, leaving a large form among the broken barrel staves. It was a soaked, sealed burlap bag, about six feet long. Something was inside… something humanoid looking. It shuddered, twitched, and lay still.
“Oh no!” Gryph gasped. Had there been something inside the barrel, that Gryph had just now killed? “CLERIC!!” he yelled.
Jo’nas rushed over and knelt over the bag, then opened it. It was indeed a body. A human form, bound at the wrists and ankles. Male. He was very clearly dead. “It looks like he just died… but you mustn’t blame yourself, Gryph, you didn’t know.”
“I shouldn’t have done it,” Gryph said. The sorrow in the dragon’s deep voice was clearly deep and genuine. He then perked up. “Kizzlorn, don’t we have that scroll of resurrection?”
“Yes,” she said. She came forward and withdrew the scroll, then handed it to Jo’nas. If anyone regretted using an item of this worth and power on someone none of them knew, no one voiced their feelings. It was cast over the body and it came to life.
It sputtered and gasped for several moments while Grumbar helped the other two prisoners to their feet. They were alive, but barely. They glared at their rescuers suspiciously and the woman, who was their apparent leader. “Thank… you,” she uttered slowly. “We… owe you our… we owe a great debt to you.” They helped their resurrected friend up and began walking slowly back, to a collapsed section of the camp’s fence. “We m… …we will be leaving now.”
“Wait,” Kizzlorn said. “what are your names?”
The woman cleared her throat and said “Our n… umm… we are merely three… who travel. I am Lyla, the remaining are my… they help to keep company. Thank you again, goodbye!” They moved further away. They really seemed to be quite nervous and in a hurry.
Gryph was insulted. They’d just been rescued and healed, and now they were being quite rude in just running away with a curt farewell. He yelled after them. “Hey, where are you going to go? It’s dangerous out there!”
“We’ll be fine,” they replied, and walked on.
“Let them go,” Shade said.
Gryph thought for a moment and said ”Like hell I will. There’s something rotten with those three.” He turned into a will-o’-wisp, turned invisible, and flew off after them. “I’ll be back soon,” he said. “Keep traveling. I’ll find you.”
He followed the people north. They paused briefly to catch their breath and speak in a strange tongue, before hurrying on. Gryph didn’t like it at all.
They reached a vast chasm overlooking a half-dried riverbed in the valley. The people descended a set of steps and wandered into a pitch-black cave. Gryph wandered inside for just a moment, and remembered a conversation he’d shared back at the castle.
There’s that colony o’ Yuan-Ti up north. Live in a chasm, he heard the soldier’s voice say.
Dangerous enough, but they leave us alone so Hyiadramain says we leave ‘em alone. That’s good enough for me, as long as they don’t come attackin’ too.
Yuan-Ti. As a shapeshifter, Gryph was familiar with their ways and makeup. They were snake people. Very deadly. However, their tolerance of poisons might have helped them to resist the mead’s effects… which would explain why they were contained the way they were. The Jirrock couldn’t convert them to slaves of the mead, so they beat them within an inch of their lives and tied them up in barrels. The water would dilute the acid secreted from their bodies so that they wouldn’t be able to eat through their bonds.
If the Jirrock couldn’t control them, why not simply kill them, outright? Maybe the Jirrock were waiting for a way to control them that they couldn’t resist. An entire colony of Yuan-Ti would be a powerful ally.
So THAT’S why they avoided speaking in ‘s’ sounds when they spoke, Gryph thought to himself as he flew back up into the air. The hissing, sibilant sounds would have alerted the group to something amiss, certainly. If Hyiadramain had carefully established a truce with the Yuan-Ti, and they truly weren’t involved in the goings-on of the Jirrock, then Gryph couldn’t think of a reason to continue pursuing them into the cave, or harassing them further.
He found his companions a mile north of where he’d left them. He landed by the group and reported his findings. Kizzlorn nodded and thought silently. “We camp here,” she said. “We’re not too far from the chasm, and I’d like to keep some distance between us and the Yuan-Ti for the night.” The mist was already beginning to roll in over the hills, fogging the landscape in the rose light of the setting sun.
They made camp and slept on the plain.
MORE TO COME...