Travels through the Wild West: Books V-VIII (Epilogue)
- Thread starter Lazybones
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Lazybones
Adventurer
Thanks for the kudos; I really do appreciate it.
* * * * *
Book VI, Part 14
Moving with a caution born of hard experience, the three companions—four, counting the great wolf Fenrus—headed into Undermountain.
The floor of the pit was almost a hundred and fifty feet below the well in The Yawning Portal, and by the time they reached the sandy-surfaced floor of the cavern below the light from above was just a diffuse glow far above them, too little for even the sharp-eyed gnomes to see very much. As they gathered at the bottom of the shaft, and Pel unhooked Fenrus from the winch harness, Cal cast a light spell that drove back the shadows, leaving them in the center of a bubble of light.
They were in a large chamber, its floor covered in at least several inches of rough sand. Large shields were hung at irregular intervals along the wall, clearly pitted and useless now as armor. A large archway to the west was the only exit, where they could see a dark corridor leading deeper into the dungeon.
“I could’ve saved you that spell, if you’d asked,” Pel was saying, as he and Fenrus joined Cal and Benzan before the arch. The gnome reached into a pouch at his belt and withdrew a plain iron ring—plain, that is, if one didn’t count the flames that blazed from the ring as the gnome unrapped it from a square of canvas. The companions, already familiar with continual flame from Dana, did not comment as the gnome put the ring on his left hand. It was a strange effect, giving his fist the appearance of a torch, the flames forming a nimbus around his hand but not doing any damage to his flesh.
“Let’s just take this slow and careful,” Cal said. “We haven’t had time to get familiar with what we all can do, so you’re right, we should be open with our communications until we can develop some team tactics.”
“Yeah, assuming we live that long,” Benzan said.
The four headed down the corridor, with Benzan slightly ahead, scouring the darkness for any sign of danger. After a short distance Fenrus moved up beside him, and after a brief look between the tiefling and the wolf the two continued onward, with the gnomes trailing behind.
“Look, I hope you didn’t mind that ‘doggy’ crack,” Benzan said. “How about you just watch my back, and I’ll watch yours, eh?”
The wolf looked at him, but did not otherwise reply.
“Hey, Pelanther, is this wolf intelligent?”
“He’s smarter than most of the city blokes I’ve met,” the gnome replied.
Their banter ended abruptly as the passage turned and they emerged on the edge of a vaulted chamber. Thick stone pillars rose from the floor to the ceiling high above them, and they could make out several exits, passages that led to the left, right, and straight ahead.
They couldn’t see anything more before their light sources suddenly flared and died.
“What happened?” Pel asked, as the four suddenly found themselves in complete and utter blackness.
“There’s nothing here,” Benzan said, his vision perfectly fine in the dark. “No dangers that I can see, anyway.”
“I’ve heard about this,” Cal said, already digging in his pouch for a more conventional light source. “Antimagic areas; they’re scattered all over Undermountain.”
“Well, isn’t that just great,” Benzan commented.
“Hold on a second,” Cal said. By touch he took out his tinderbox and with flint and steel got a small flame going, which he touched to the tip of a slender wax taper. The wick caught and started burning, casting a faint light around them.
“That’s not going to be much help in a battle,” Pel commented.
“These areas are usually limited in size,” Cal said. “If we get into trouble, we’ll retreat back into the corridor. Benzan can help; he sees just fine in the dark.”
Pel grunted, but joined them as they moved into the room. There wasn’t much to see; the place was barren save for some scattered debris in the corners. All three passages looked more or less identical, although as Benzan moved to the one on the opposite wall, he noticed something.
“Hey, come look at this. Looks like mirrors, mounted on the walls of this passage. Goes down quite a way.”
“Hold it!” Cal warned, his voice sounding too-loud in the cavernous darkness around them. “Don’t go down there!”
Benzan had backed up quickly at the first warning, and now looked at the passage curiously. “Why, what’s down there?”
“When I was young, I heard a lot of tales about Undermountain. Some were fantastical, some tragic, some heroic, but they all had a few elements in common. Several agreed on this point: the Hall of Mirrors is dangerous, and looking at those mirrors can get you into trouble.”
“What kind of trouble?” Benzan asked.
“I’m not exactly sure. Big trouble, I would expect.”
“Ah yes. The only kind that we know.”
They finished checking the room, but it bore out their initial perceptions; the place was empty. There were some signs that creatures had come through here, but nothing clear enough for them to read clearly.
“So where do we go now?” Benzan asked. “Do you want to call upon that magic dog of Alera’s?”
“Alera gave you Valor?” Pel asked, surprised.
“She loaned him to me,” Cal clarified. “And I doubt I could summon him in this magic-dead area anyway. I’m not sure if he would remain with us, if I summoned him outside and brought him through here; I’d rather not risk it if we can avoid it.”
“Fenrus can track by scent,” Pel said. “I’ll be right back.” He took the wolf and retreated to the corridor by which they’d entered.
“Where’s he going?” Benzan asked.
“I’d guess that he’s leaving the antimagic area, so that he can speak with animals.”
“I have to admit, I haven’t known many druids,” Benzan said. “Never could quite grasp that whole ‘nature’ thing.”
“Don’t let Dana hear you say that,” Cal said. He regretted the comment a moment later, as Benzan’s reaction was clearly written on his face. Benzan saw that Cal saw it, and he shrugged his shoulders.
“What can I say? I miss her.”
“We’ll see her again—after this is over, I’ll help you track her down.”
“Thanks.”
They turned as Pelanther reentered the room. Fenrus moved with a purpose, checking each of the exits in turn before coming to face the one Benzan had investigated earlier.
The one leading into the Hall of Mirrors.
“Of course,” Benzan said grumpily.
* * * * *
Book VI, Part 14
Moving with a caution born of hard experience, the three companions—four, counting the great wolf Fenrus—headed into Undermountain.
The floor of the pit was almost a hundred and fifty feet below the well in The Yawning Portal, and by the time they reached the sandy-surfaced floor of the cavern below the light from above was just a diffuse glow far above them, too little for even the sharp-eyed gnomes to see very much. As they gathered at the bottom of the shaft, and Pel unhooked Fenrus from the winch harness, Cal cast a light spell that drove back the shadows, leaving them in the center of a bubble of light.
They were in a large chamber, its floor covered in at least several inches of rough sand. Large shields were hung at irregular intervals along the wall, clearly pitted and useless now as armor. A large archway to the west was the only exit, where they could see a dark corridor leading deeper into the dungeon.
“I could’ve saved you that spell, if you’d asked,” Pel was saying, as he and Fenrus joined Cal and Benzan before the arch. The gnome reached into a pouch at his belt and withdrew a plain iron ring—plain, that is, if one didn’t count the flames that blazed from the ring as the gnome unrapped it from a square of canvas. The companions, already familiar with continual flame from Dana, did not comment as the gnome put the ring on his left hand. It was a strange effect, giving his fist the appearance of a torch, the flames forming a nimbus around his hand but not doing any damage to his flesh.
“Let’s just take this slow and careful,” Cal said. “We haven’t had time to get familiar with what we all can do, so you’re right, we should be open with our communications until we can develop some team tactics.”
“Yeah, assuming we live that long,” Benzan said.
The four headed down the corridor, with Benzan slightly ahead, scouring the darkness for any sign of danger. After a short distance Fenrus moved up beside him, and after a brief look between the tiefling and the wolf the two continued onward, with the gnomes trailing behind.
“Look, I hope you didn’t mind that ‘doggy’ crack,” Benzan said. “How about you just watch my back, and I’ll watch yours, eh?”
The wolf looked at him, but did not otherwise reply.
“Hey, Pelanther, is this wolf intelligent?”
“He’s smarter than most of the city blokes I’ve met,” the gnome replied.
Their banter ended abruptly as the passage turned and they emerged on the edge of a vaulted chamber. Thick stone pillars rose from the floor to the ceiling high above them, and they could make out several exits, passages that led to the left, right, and straight ahead.
They couldn’t see anything more before their light sources suddenly flared and died.
“What happened?” Pel asked, as the four suddenly found themselves in complete and utter blackness.
“There’s nothing here,” Benzan said, his vision perfectly fine in the dark. “No dangers that I can see, anyway.”
“I’ve heard about this,” Cal said, already digging in his pouch for a more conventional light source. “Antimagic areas; they’re scattered all over Undermountain.”
“Well, isn’t that just great,” Benzan commented.
“Hold on a second,” Cal said. By touch he took out his tinderbox and with flint and steel got a small flame going, which he touched to the tip of a slender wax taper. The wick caught and started burning, casting a faint light around them.
“That’s not going to be much help in a battle,” Pel commented.
“These areas are usually limited in size,” Cal said. “If we get into trouble, we’ll retreat back into the corridor. Benzan can help; he sees just fine in the dark.”
Pel grunted, but joined them as they moved into the room. There wasn’t much to see; the place was barren save for some scattered debris in the corners. All three passages looked more or less identical, although as Benzan moved to the one on the opposite wall, he noticed something.
“Hey, come look at this. Looks like mirrors, mounted on the walls of this passage. Goes down quite a way.”
“Hold it!” Cal warned, his voice sounding too-loud in the cavernous darkness around them. “Don’t go down there!”
Benzan had backed up quickly at the first warning, and now looked at the passage curiously. “Why, what’s down there?”
“When I was young, I heard a lot of tales about Undermountain. Some were fantastical, some tragic, some heroic, but they all had a few elements in common. Several agreed on this point: the Hall of Mirrors is dangerous, and looking at those mirrors can get you into trouble.”
“What kind of trouble?” Benzan asked.
“I’m not exactly sure. Big trouble, I would expect.”
“Ah yes. The only kind that we know.”
They finished checking the room, but it bore out their initial perceptions; the place was empty. There were some signs that creatures had come through here, but nothing clear enough for them to read clearly.
“So where do we go now?” Benzan asked. “Do you want to call upon that magic dog of Alera’s?”
“Alera gave you Valor?” Pel asked, surprised.
“She loaned him to me,” Cal clarified. “And I doubt I could summon him in this magic-dead area anyway. I’m not sure if he would remain with us, if I summoned him outside and brought him through here; I’d rather not risk it if we can avoid it.”
“Fenrus can track by scent,” Pel said. “I’ll be right back.” He took the wolf and retreated to the corridor by which they’d entered.
“Where’s he going?” Benzan asked.
“I’d guess that he’s leaving the antimagic area, so that he can speak with animals.”
“I have to admit, I haven’t known many druids,” Benzan said. “Never could quite grasp that whole ‘nature’ thing.”
“Don’t let Dana hear you say that,” Cal said. He regretted the comment a moment later, as Benzan’s reaction was clearly written on his face. Benzan saw that Cal saw it, and he shrugged his shoulders.
“What can I say? I miss her.”
“We’ll see her again—after this is over, I’ll help you track her down.”
“Thanks.”
They turned as Pelanther reentered the room. Fenrus moved with a purpose, checking each of the exits in turn before coming to face the one Benzan had investigated earlier.
The one leading into the Hall of Mirrors.
“Of course,” Benzan said grumpily.
Broccli_Head
Explorer
Wow! This brings back lots of memories. Can't wait until they get to the Shattered Statue or the Mud Pit...if it's still there after all these years.
I love Undermountain. It's the place that players in my campaign want to keep going back to again and again even after they've had epic battles in the wilderness.
thanks LB.
B.H.
I love Undermountain. It's the place that players in my campaign want to keep going back to again and again even after they've had epic battles in the wilderness.
thanks LB.
B.H.
Lazybones
Adventurer
Broc: I'm not going to spend too much time on the keyed areas, if only because dungeon crawls take forever to write up (sometimes a whole update only takes us through one room!). But we will see some familiar sites over the next few posts (with some of the contents changed, of course), before the travels of the companions take them into the unkeyed regions on the edges of the megamap.
Undermountain is pretty massive, though; you could easily spend an entire adventuring career (1st-20th level) on just the first level if the DM completely filled in the map with content.
I have the "package" for Horacio ready to send, but I have 3 posts to get through first. So I'll probably post two today, and one tomorrow morning, and then it's over to him as I jet away for two weeks in Hawaii!
* * * * *
Book VI, Part 15
“Your cousin seems to have had an instinct for Big Trouble,” Benzan said, as they gathered at the entrance to the long hallway.
“It runs in our family,” Pel commented. Cal looked at him, but the druid’s attention was fixed straight ahead, on the long tunnel that stretched out into darkness.
“All right,” Cal said. “Keep your gaze fixed straight ahead, and don’t look to either side. Pel, can you handle Fenrus?”
“Aye,” the druid said. He undid his cloak, and draped it over the wolf’s face, shielding his eyes. Fenrus growled, but Pel patted his fur, whispering something reassuring, and the wolf gave in.
“Should I do the same for you?” Cal said to Benzan.
“Not necessary. I’ve had enough Big Trouble for a lifetime, thank you very much.”
They moved out, cautiously, into the long hallway. They’d only gone a few steps when their light sources flared back into being. At least they were through the antimagic area. The light blazed off the mirrors set into alcoves along the length of the long passageway, but the companions did not waver from their course.
“Why doesn’t someone just break them?” Benzan asked.
“Some have tried,” Cal said. “Broken things have a way of finding themselves fixed, in Undermountain.”
And then they were through, the alcoves with their mirrors falling away behind them, the corridor continuing to a fork just ahead. Pel uncovered Fenrus’s face, and the wolf led them down the left passage.
They walked down the corridor, their sound of their footfalls muted on the massive flagstones that made up the floor. The passages around them seemed to go on forever, and it was easy to feel a sense of smallness here, surrounded by the huge expanse of Halaster’s creation.
“Just how big is this place, anyway?” Benzan asked.
“Let’s just say that the entire population of Waterdeep could fit down here, and not feel crowded,” Cal replied.
Benzan let out a low whistle.
They passed a small side chamber that concealed nothing, to they pressed on to another fork in the passage, with a side corridor branching off to their left. Fenrus sniffed at both passages, and hesitated a moment before leading them to the side.
“I hope he knows where he’s going,” Benzan said, clutching his bow tightly, one of Alera’s ice arrows nocked but not drawn.
The corridor bent around to the left a bit and continued for another thirty feet or so before ending in a pair of stone doors. As they approached, and the light fell over the portals, they could see that one of the doors was ajar, braced open by a small slab of uneven stone lying on the floor.
“What’s that smell?” Cal said, sniffing the air.
“I don’t smell anything,” Benzan said. But he trusted his friend’s sensitive nose, and drew his arrow back enough to put tension on the string.
Fenrus growled, a low, angry sound.
A chittering noise because audible from beyond the open door, a scrabble of movement that persisted for a few seconds and then faded.
“Don’t like this,” Benzan whispered, just loud enough for the others to hear.
Pelanther cast a spell, and his skin darkened and took on a coarse texture, roughening until it obtained the consistency of tough bark. Cal held his own magic at the ready, but did not release its power. He held the wand of acid bolts, though, trained at the narrow gap in the doorway.
“All right, let’s go—carefully,” he said to his fellows.
Slowly they approached the doors, almost silent in their movements. Soon even Benzan could smell what Cal had detected, a musty odor reminiscent of a wet forest.
They were ten feet away from the door when the chittering sound started up again.
A squirming, twisting form darted through the opening, crawling over the stone block into the corridor. It was a centipede, nearly as long as Fenrus, its dun-colored body emblazoned with several colorful streaks in blue and orange that gave it an almost festive appearance, for a carnivorous vermin.
Its antennae twitched, and it darted rapidly toward them.
Benzan’s arrow transfixed it, driving through whatever passed for a brain in such a creature, and a moment later Fenrus was on it, tearing it to pieces in an eyeblink.
“Well now, that wasn’t so terrible,” Pelanther commented.
The chittering sound from beyond the door started up again. If the earlier noise had been a whisper, this was a loud bustle, building in intensity.
“Oh, crap...” Benzan said. His words were immediately followed by an explosion of twisting, color-streaked bodies that seethed in a mass out of the crack, piling over each other in a squirming heap that poured into the corridor like water coursing from an overturned pitcher.
Undermountain is pretty massive, though; you could easily spend an entire adventuring career (1st-20th level) on just the first level if the DM completely filled in the map with content.
I have the "package" for Horacio ready to send, but I have 3 posts to get through first. So I'll probably post two today, and one tomorrow morning, and then it's over to him as I jet away for two weeks in Hawaii!
* * * * *
Book VI, Part 15
“Your cousin seems to have had an instinct for Big Trouble,” Benzan said, as they gathered at the entrance to the long hallway.
“It runs in our family,” Pel commented. Cal looked at him, but the druid’s attention was fixed straight ahead, on the long tunnel that stretched out into darkness.
“All right,” Cal said. “Keep your gaze fixed straight ahead, and don’t look to either side. Pel, can you handle Fenrus?”
“Aye,” the druid said. He undid his cloak, and draped it over the wolf’s face, shielding his eyes. Fenrus growled, but Pel patted his fur, whispering something reassuring, and the wolf gave in.
“Should I do the same for you?” Cal said to Benzan.
“Not necessary. I’ve had enough Big Trouble for a lifetime, thank you very much.”
They moved out, cautiously, into the long hallway. They’d only gone a few steps when their light sources flared back into being. At least they were through the antimagic area. The light blazed off the mirrors set into alcoves along the length of the long passageway, but the companions did not waver from their course.
“Why doesn’t someone just break them?” Benzan asked.
“Some have tried,” Cal said. “Broken things have a way of finding themselves fixed, in Undermountain.”
And then they were through, the alcoves with their mirrors falling away behind them, the corridor continuing to a fork just ahead. Pel uncovered Fenrus’s face, and the wolf led them down the left passage.
They walked down the corridor, their sound of their footfalls muted on the massive flagstones that made up the floor. The passages around them seemed to go on forever, and it was easy to feel a sense of smallness here, surrounded by the huge expanse of Halaster’s creation.
“Just how big is this place, anyway?” Benzan asked.
“Let’s just say that the entire population of Waterdeep could fit down here, and not feel crowded,” Cal replied.
Benzan let out a low whistle.
They passed a small side chamber that concealed nothing, to they pressed on to another fork in the passage, with a side corridor branching off to their left. Fenrus sniffed at both passages, and hesitated a moment before leading them to the side.
“I hope he knows where he’s going,” Benzan said, clutching his bow tightly, one of Alera’s ice arrows nocked but not drawn.
The corridor bent around to the left a bit and continued for another thirty feet or so before ending in a pair of stone doors. As they approached, and the light fell over the portals, they could see that one of the doors was ajar, braced open by a small slab of uneven stone lying on the floor.
“What’s that smell?” Cal said, sniffing the air.
“I don’t smell anything,” Benzan said. But he trusted his friend’s sensitive nose, and drew his arrow back enough to put tension on the string.
Fenrus growled, a low, angry sound.
A chittering noise because audible from beyond the open door, a scrabble of movement that persisted for a few seconds and then faded.
“Don’t like this,” Benzan whispered, just loud enough for the others to hear.
Pelanther cast a spell, and his skin darkened and took on a coarse texture, roughening until it obtained the consistency of tough bark. Cal held his own magic at the ready, but did not release its power. He held the wand of acid bolts, though, trained at the narrow gap in the doorway.
“All right, let’s go—carefully,” he said to his fellows.
Slowly they approached the doors, almost silent in their movements. Soon even Benzan could smell what Cal had detected, a musty odor reminiscent of a wet forest.
They were ten feet away from the door when the chittering sound started up again.
A squirming, twisting form darted through the opening, crawling over the stone block into the corridor. It was a centipede, nearly as long as Fenrus, its dun-colored body emblazoned with several colorful streaks in blue and orange that gave it an almost festive appearance, for a carnivorous vermin.
Its antennae twitched, and it darted rapidly toward them.
Benzan’s arrow transfixed it, driving through whatever passed for a brain in such a creature, and a moment later Fenrus was on it, tearing it to pieces in an eyeblink.
“Well now, that wasn’t so terrible,” Pelanther commented.
The chittering sound from beyond the door started up again. If the earlier noise had been a whisper, this was a loud bustle, building in intensity.
“Oh, crap...” Benzan said. His words were immediately followed by an explosion of twisting, color-streaked bodies that seethed in a mass out of the crack, piling over each other in a squirming heap that poured into the corridor like water coursing from an overturned pitcher.
Lazybones
Adventurer
Book VI, Part 16
The companions drew back in horror as a crawling horde of monstrous centipedes filled the room, swarming toward them.
Pelanther and Benzan reacted in the same instant, their swift reflexes honed by experience. Benzan fired another arrow and then smoothly switched weapons, sliding his bow into the straps across his backpack even as he drew his bronze-bladed longsword with his other hand. There was no time to unlimber his shield; the creatures were upon them.
But Pelanther had used that moment of delay wisely as well. Calling upon the powers of the natural world that were part of his druidic training, he summoned a ball of blazing fire that rolled down the corridor toward the door. It could not stop the rush, as the corridor was too wide and the centipedes were swarming even up along the walls, but at least a dozen of the creatures were roasted as the ball traveled its flaming course. The druid’s ultimate goal became clear as the ball rolled into the opening of the door, lodging in the crack to block the portal, burning a few more latecoming vermin as it did so. The barrier wasn’t complete, as a few centipedes continued to crawl out above the flaming sphere, one even creeping along the ceiling, but it greatly slowed the rush.
Two centipedes rushed at Cal, their fanged jaws dripping fat gobs of poison as they snapped eagerly at the air. Fenrus leapt forward to block their path, the wolf’s bulk dominating the width of the corridor. He caught the first centipede in his massive jaws and crushed the life out of it in a single bite, tossing the fragments of the insect aside as it lunged at the second. That creature, too, soon died, although it managed to bite the wolf on the shoulder before it was torn apart.
Then the centipedes were upon them en masse, crawling and biting. Cal took advantage of Fenrus’s delay to summon a shield, and another pair of attackers were deflected from their attacks by the magical barrier. Benzan was swarmed upon by a half-dozen of the vermin, attacking from the floor or the adjacent wall. One of the creatures, almost large enough to trail all the way back to the door, lifted itself up and shot forward like a knife, its jaws snapping on his mailed chest. The mithral links held, although the mass of the creature and the force of its assault drove the tiefling back a step. Grimacing he slashed at the creature with his sword, drawing a bright line across its torso but failing to stop its attack.
On the other flank, Pelanther was largely shielded by Fenrus, who continued to unleash a fury of bites upon the centipede horde. The druid turned to the aid of his companion, casting a second barkskin spell that toughed the wolf’s already thick hide. The help was timely, as a good dozen centipedes were crawling all over the wolf’s front half, trying to sink their fangs into any convenient spot. The wolf’s natural agility, combined with Pel’s protection, helped it avoid most of the attacks, but even so it took a pair of nasty bites on its neck and torso.
Seeing the pain suffered by his friend, Pel grimly unlimbered his scimitar and rushed into battle.
Cal fired a blast from his wand of acid arrows at his two attackers, disintegrating one’s head with a well-placed impact. He had more powerful spells at his disposal, but he was reluctant to use them so quickly, knowing that even beyond this challenge, more deadly encounters might lay ahead of them. They were operating under a strict timeline here, and did not have the luxury of retreating to the surface to rest and regain spells at their leisure. All this went through his head even as he adjusted the shield to deflect another attack, and he slew the second centipede with another acid arrow. The upper half of the first had already almost entirely dissolved, leaving only a greasy slick on the stone floor and a twitching lower body.
Benzan let out a violent warcry as he slashed at the centipedes all around him with abandon. He had slain the larger specimen with a second stroke that finished the job of the first, but at least a half-dozen more of the smaller ones were pressing the attack from all sides. He felt a sharp prick on his leg and looked down to see a centipede wrapped around the limb, twisting upward toward a part of his anatomy that he most definitely did not want to see bitten by a poisonous worm.
“Get off me, get off!” he yelled, jerking back and stabbing his sword down into the creature. The stroke was true, killing the centipede instantly, but then another darted down off the wall, trying to play the same game with his off-arm. This time he saw it coming, and the centipede was sliced smoothly in two by a single stroke of his magical blade.
“How about another one of those flaming spheres, eh Pel?” the tiefling cried, as he dodged another trio of centipedes trying to do some damage to his legs.
The whole corridor seemed to be one squirming mass of bodies, but in fact the companions were having an impact, and the presence of the first flaming sphere in the doorway had prevented more than a handful of the vermin from joining the melee after the initial rush. And a good number of the undulating forms in the corridor were centipedes slain by the companions but not quite yet aware of that fact, twisting out the last moments of their lives in a few final spasms.
Pel had advanced to Fenrus’s side, and the two continued to lay into the writhing mass, Pel’s scimitar slashing bodies into pieces while the massive wolf continued to tear them apart with crushing bites from his huge jaws. Fenrus’s movements were growing noticeably stiffer, as the centipedes’ venom coursed through his bloodstream, but the strength of the wolf had not been diminished by his hurts.
Cal drew his sword, the dwarf-forged blade that glowed with a pale blue light, and came to Benzan’s aid. He sang a song of glorious battle against huge odds, his clear voice sounding loudly in the confined space of the corridor. The song lifted their spirits as the companions continued their attacks against the remaining centipedes, slicing into any multi-legged form that sought to approach them.
And then, less than a minute after the initial rush, the battle was over. There was still a lot of movement on the floor before them, but the surviving centipedes seemed more intent on consuming the dismembered pieces of their fellows than attacking the standing prey that was backing away from them. The companions retreated back to the last intersection, watching carefully for any signs of insectoid pursuit.
“Damn, that hurts,” Benzan said, moving with a slight limp as he tried to walk off the lingering effects of the poison from the centipede that had bitten him in the leg. He felt stiff, his limbs reluctant to obey his commands, and while the wound was not life-threatening, a decline in his combat ability might be, in the next encounter. Cal used his wand of healing to close the puncture wound in Benzan’s leg, but it could not eliminate the toxins left behind in his system.
“Hey, Pel, any chance you can do something about poison?” he asked the druid.
The gnome looked up from where he was tending to Fenrus, the great wolf standing there inscrutably in the center of the corridor, like a somber statue. “Aye,” he said. “But Fenrus here’s hurt more than you, and he needs it more right now.”
Benzan opened his mouth to say something, but thought better of it. And indeed, the wolf had taken more of a beating than any of them, with slicks of blood running down its coat in the numerous places where the centipedes had bitten him.
Pel worked his magic, casting a spell to heal the wolf’s wounds, and then another to reduce the effects of the poison already in his system. Through the castings the wolf just stood there, and when the spells were finished, the wolf, clearly more at ease, bent its head and lightly butted the gnome.
“Well, now what? I hate to say it, Cal, but if your cousin went that way, then our quest might end up being a pretty short one. Those things were vicious, and I don’t expect they’d leave much behind once they were done with someone.”
For a moment, Cal looked uncertain. Then, he reached for his pouch.
“I’ll call upon Valor,” he said, taking the onyx figurine out and holding it in his hand.
“Valor, Valor,” Cal said, speaking to his great-aunt’s magical figurine of power.
At his call, he felt the stone dog grow slightly warm, and then a cloud of iridescent vapor began to form on the stone floor a few feet away. The mists coalesced into the outline of a powerful war dog, somewhat larger than either gnome, and then the image took substance, and Valor was standing there, watching him.
“Hello, Valor. I am Balander, Alera’s great-nephew. She lent you to me...”
“...to find Nelan,” the dog interrupted, speaking in a deep but clearly understandable voice. “Alera already spoke to me, a little. So we are in Undermountain then, I assume?”
Cal looked over at his companions with surprise, but Benzan just shrugged.
“So it’s a Talking dog,” he said, with an expression of exaggerated nonchalance.
The companions drew back in horror as a crawling horde of monstrous centipedes filled the room, swarming toward them.
Pelanther and Benzan reacted in the same instant, their swift reflexes honed by experience. Benzan fired another arrow and then smoothly switched weapons, sliding his bow into the straps across his backpack even as he drew his bronze-bladed longsword with his other hand. There was no time to unlimber his shield; the creatures were upon them.
But Pelanther had used that moment of delay wisely as well. Calling upon the powers of the natural world that were part of his druidic training, he summoned a ball of blazing fire that rolled down the corridor toward the door. It could not stop the rush, as the corridor was too wide and the centipedes were swarming even up along the walls, but at least a dozen of the creatures were roasted as the ball traveled its flaming course. The druid’s ultimate goal became clear as the ball rolled into the opening of the door, lodging in the crack to block the portal, burning a few more latecoming vermin as it did so. The barrier wasn’t complete, as a few centipedes continued to crawl out above the flaming sphere, one even creeping along the ceiling, but it greatly slowed the rush.
Two centipedes rushed at Cal, their fanged jaws dripping fat gobs of poison as they snapped eagerly at the air. Fenrus leapt forward to block their path, the wolf’s bulk dominating the width of the corridor. He caught the first centipede in his massive jaws and crushed the life out of it in a single bite, tossing the fragments of the insect aside as it lunged at the second. That creature, too, soon died, although it managed to bite the wolf on the shoulder before it was torn apart.
Then the centipedes were upon them en masse, crawling and biting. Cal took advantage of Fenrus’s delay to summon a shield, and another pair of attackers were deflected from their attacks by the magical barrier. Benzan was swarmed upon by a half-dozen of the vermin, attacking from the floor or the adjacent wall. One of the creatures, almost large enough to trail all the way back to the door, lifted itself up and shot forward like a knife, its jaws snapping on his mailed chest. The mithral links held, although the mass of the creature and the force of its assault drove the tiefling back a step. Grimacing he slashed at the creature with his sword, drawing a bright line across its torso but failing to stop its attack.
On the other flank, Pelanther was largely shielded by Fenrus, who continued to unleash a fury of bites upon the centipede horde. The druid turned to the aid of his companion, casting a second barkskin spell that toughed the wolf’s already thick hide. The help was timely, as a good dozen centipedes were crawling all over the wolf’s front half, trying to sink their fangs into any convenient spot. The wolf’s natural agility, combined with Pel’s protection, helped it avoid most of the attacks, but even so it took a pair of nasty bites on its neck and torso.
Seeing the pain suffered by his friend, Pel grimly unlimbered his scimitar and rushed into battle.
Cal fired a blast from his wand of acid arrows at his two attackers, disintegrating one’s head with a well-placed impact. He had more powerful spells at his disposal, but he was reluctant to use them so quickly, knowing that even beyond this challenge, more deadly encounters might lay ahead of them. They were operating under a strict timeline here, and did not have the luxury of retreating to the surface to rest and regain spells at their leisure. All this went through his head even as he adjusted the shield to deflect another attack, and he slew the second centipede with another acid arrow. The upper half of the first had already almost entirely dissolved, leaving only a greasy slick on the stone floor and a twitching lower body.
Benzan let out a violent warcry as he slashed at the centipedes all around him with abandon. He had slain the larger specimen with a second stroke that finished the job of the first, but at least a half-dozen more of the smaller ones were pressing the attack from all sides. He felt a sharp prick on his leg and looked down to see a centipede wrapped around the limb, twisting upward toward a part of his anatomy that he most definitely did not want to see bitten by a poisonous worm.
“Get off me, get off!” he yelled, jerking back and stabbing his sword down into the creature. The stroke was true, killing the centipede instantly, but then another darted down off the wall, trying to play the same game with his off-arm. This time he saw it coming, and the centipede was sliced smoothly in two by a single stroke of his magical blade.
“How about another one of those flaming spheres, eh Pel?” the tiefling cried, as he dodged another trio of centipedes trying to do some damage to his legs.
The whole corridor seemed to be one squirming mass of bodies, but in fact the companions were having an impact, and the presence of the first flaming sphere in the doorway had prevented more than a handful of the vermin from joining the melee after the initial rush. And a good number of the undulating forms in the corridor were centipedes slain by the companions but not quite yet aware of that fact, twisting out the last moments of their lives in a few final spasms.
Pel had advanced to Fenrus’s side, and the two continued to lay into the writhing mass, Pel’s scimitar slashing bodies into pieces while the massive wolf continued to tear them apart with crushing bites from his huge jaws. Fenrus’s movements were growing noticeably stiffer, as the centipedes’ venom coursed through his bloodstream, but the strength of the wolf had not been diminished by his hurts.
Cal drew his sword, the dwarf-forged blade that glowed with a pale blue light, and came to Benzan’s aid. He sang a song of glorious battle against huge odds, his clear voice sounding loudly in the confined space of the corridor. The song lifted their spirits as the companions continued their attacks against the remaining centipedes, slicing into any multi-legged form that sought to approach them.
And then, less than a minute after the initial rush, the battle was over. There was still a lot of movement on the floor before them, but the surviving centipedes seemed more intent on consuming the dismembered pieces of their fellows than attacking the standing prey that was backing away from them. The companions retreated back to the last intersection, watching carefully for any signs of insectoid pursuit.
“Damn, that hurts,” Benzan said, moving with a slight limp as he tried to walk off the lingering effects of the poison from the centipede that had bitten him in the leg. He felt stiff, his limbs reluctant to obey his commands, and while the wound was not life-threatening, a decline in his combat ability might be, in the next encounter. Cal used his wand of healing to close the puncture wound in Benzan’s leg, but it could not eliminate the toxins left behind in his system.
“Hey, Pel, any chance you can do something about poison?” he asked the druid.
The gnome looked up from where he was tending to Fenrus, the great wolf standing there inscrutably in the center of the corridor, like a somber statue. “Aye,” he said. “But Fenrus here’s hurt more than you, and he needs it more right now.”
Benzan opened his mouth to say something, but thought better of it. And indeed, the wolf had taken more of a beating than any of them, with slicks of blood running down its coat in the numerous places where the centipedes had bitten him.
Pel worked his magic, casting a spell to heal the wolf’s wounds, and then another to reduce the effects of the poison already in his system. Through the castings the wolf just stood there, and when the spells were finished, the wolf, clearly more at ease, bent its head and lightly butted the gnome.
“Well, now what? I hate to say it, Cal, but if your cousin went that way, then our quest might end up being a pretty short one. Those things were vicious, and I don’t expect they’d leave much behind once they were done with someone.”
For a moment, Cal looked uncertain. Then, he reached for his pouch.
“I’ll call upon Valor,” he said, taking the onyx figurine out and holding it in his hand.
“Valor, Valor,” Cal said, speaking to his great-aunt’s magical figurine of power.
At his call, he felt the stone dog grow slightly warm, and then a cloud of iridescent vapor began to form on the stone floor a few feet away. The mists coalesced into the outline of a powerful war dog, somewhat larger than either gnome, and then the image took substance, and Valor was standing there, watching him.
“Hello, Valor. I am Balander, Alera’s great-nephew. She lent you to me...”
“...to find Nelan,” the dog interrupted, speaking in a deep but clearly understandable voice. “Alera already spoke to me, a little. So we are in Undermountain then, I assume?”
Cal looked over at his companions with surprise, but Benzan just shrugged.
“So it’s a Talking dog,” he said, with an expression of exaggerated nonchalance.
Broccli_Head
Explorer
Lazybones said:
I am really starting to like Pel. It's great to see a druid really care for his animal companion!
I like Valor also. Looks like he could be a great character. Onyx dogs are so underrated....
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