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Travels through the Wild West: Books V-VIII (Epilogue)
- Thread starter Lazybones
- Start date
Lazybones
Adventurer
Thanks all; I must be doing my job as a writer when a cliff-hanger provokes so many replies.
As if NWN wasn't enough, my fiancee got me Warcraft III this weekend for my birthday. There just aren't enough hours in the day. And to make matters worse, we lost another staff member at work, and guess who got her workload...
ARGH! Monday! Well, at least there's one bright Monday morning constant: story hour update!
* * * * *
Book V, Part 16
And then…
The silvery sheen of the mithral wall beyond the arch began to deepen, until the color of the metal was darker than that of the blood that coated its surface. Then, as the dwarf and the drow elf watched together in amazement, the metal seemed to grow transparent, its surface falling in upon itself until a corridor of utter blackness that seemed impervious to the room’s light gaped in the very substance of the pillar.
They did not have long to wait, for only a few moments more crept by before the outline of a form appeared in the darkness. It moved forward, and as it reached the transition point where the metal wall had just stood it resolved itself instantly into a humanoid form as it strode into the chamber.
He was a young human male, well built, naked save for a long skirt apparently fashioned of thin metallic scales that shone in the torchlight with a golden sheen. At first glance it was clear that he was bald, but on closer examination it became clear that he had no hair at all on any part of his body that was readily visible. While he had no eyebrows, exaggerated brows had been painted on his forehead with dark pigment, their whirls and twists exaggerating the strong lines of his face. He was beautiful in an otherworldly way, but his eyes blazed in a way that was utterly incongruous with the appearance and movements of his physical form.
He strode forward boldly, his bare feet slapping against the cold stone, the metal scales of his garment whisking softly as he moved. His gaze took in everything, traveled over Shemma for an instant before dismissing her, and finally settled on the dark elf.
When he spoke, it was with a voice both deep and sonorous, with a slight echo as if it were emitting from a dark cavern. He spoke in an ancient language known to few on the surface world, but which was understood by both of those present.
“I am the Avatar. I have been sent to pave the way.”
The dark elf bowed. “I am honored by your presence. Everything has progressed according to the schedule.”
The young man turned and walked along the edge of the bowl, gazing down at the messy pile of flesh at its bottom. For a moment, it was as if he had forgotten the presence of the other two. Then, finally, he turned, raising one hand and flexing the muscles along his arm as if testing the power stored within.
“The schedule must be accelerated. The final ceremony will take place three days’ hence, at the alignment of Xoros and Calivex.”
The duergar cleric, who had thus far been silently appreciating the results of her handiwork, stepped forward. “Three days… but that’s impossible! It will take months, yet, to acquire the gems needed to complete the stele…”
She subsided as the full weight of the Avatar’s gaze settled upon her, the words drifting away as her mouth moved soundlessly. He looked back up at the dark elf, who nodded reluctantly. “I do not see how it can be done, Great One,” he acknowledged.
“As I said, I have come to pave the way,” the young man repeated. “If necessary, blood will ease the way to the final rending of the seals. There has been much waiting for this moment, but for now action must replace caution. My appearance here will not… has not… gone unnoticed.”
“I must rest. Manifesting here has been… tiring...”
“Of course, Great One,” the dark elf said. “Come, we have prepared quarters for your needs. They are nothing for one such as you…”
“They will be suitable. I must rest… and then, we will begin…”
He allowed himself to be led by the dark elf out of the chamber, while the duergar simply stood there, watching them go, her misgivings clear in the furrowed line of her brow.
As if NWN wasn't enough, my fiancee got me Warcraft III this weekend for my birthday. There just aren't enough hours in the day. And to make matters worse, we lost another staff member at work, and guess who got her workload...
ARGH! Monday! Well, at least there's one bright Monday morning constant: story hour update!
* * * * *
Book V, Part 16
And then…
The silvery sheen of the mithral wall beyond the arch began to deepen, until the color of the metal was darker than that of the blood that coated its surface. Then, as the dwarf and the drow elf watched together in amazement, the metal seemed to grow transparent, its surface falling in upon itself until a corridor of utter blackness that seemed impervious to the room’s light gaped in the very substance of the pillar.
They did not have long to wait, for only a few moments more crept by before the outline of a form appeared in the darkness. It moved forward, and as it reached the transition point where the metal wall had just stood it resolved itself instantly into a humanoid form as it strode into the chamber.
He was a young human male, well built, naked save for a long skirt apparently fashioned of thin metallic scales that shone in the torchlight with a golden sheen. At first glance it was clear that he was bald, but on closer examination it became clear that he had no hair at all on any part of his body that was readily visible. While he had no eyebrows, exaggerated brows had been painted on his forehead with dark pigment, their whirls and twists exaggerating the strong lines of his face. He was beautiful in an otherworldly way, but his eyes blazed in a way that was utterly incongruous with the appearance and movements of his physical form.
He strode forward boldly, his bare feet slapping against the cold stone, the metal scales of his garment whisking softly as he moved. His gaze took in everything, traveled over Shemma for an instant before dismissing her, and finally settled on the dark elf.
When he spoke, it was with a voice both deep and sonorous, with a slight echo as if it were emitting from a dark cavern. He spoke in an ancient language known to few on the surface world, but which was understood by both of those present.
“I am the Avatar. I have been sent to pave the way.”
The dark elf bowed. “I am honored by your presence. Everything has progressed according to the schedule.”
The young man turned and walked along the edge of the bowl, gazing down at the messy pile of flesh at its bottom. For a moment, it was as if he had forgotten the presence of the other two. Then, finally, he turned, raising one hand and flexing the muscles along his arm as if testing the power stored within.
“The schedule must be accelerated. The final ceremony will take place three days’ hence, at the alignment of Xoros and Calivex.”
The duergar cleric, who had thus far been silently appreciating the results of her handiwork, stepped forward. “Three days… but that’s impossible! It will take months, yet, to acquire the gems needed to complete the stele…”
She subsided as the full weight of the Avatar’s gaze settled upon her, the words drifting away as her mouth moved soundlessly. He looked back up at the dark elf, who nodded reluctantly. “I do not see how it can be done, Great One,” he acknowledged.
“As I said, I have come to pave the way,” the young man repeated. “If necessary, blood will ease the way to the final rending of the seals. There has been much waiting for this moment, but for now action must replace caution. My appearance here will not… has not… gone unnoticed.”
“I must rest. Manifesting here has been… tiring...”
“Of course, Great One,” the dark elf said. “Come, we have prepared quarters for your needs. They are nothing for one such as you…”
“They will be suitable. I must rest… and then, we will begin…”
He allowed himself to be led by the dark elf out of the chamber, while the duergar simply stood there, watching them go, her misgivings clear in the furrowed line of her brow.
CoopersPale
First Post
Nice update!
Back to the front page with you Mr Thread, Where you BELONG!!
cheers
Bludgeon
Back to the front page with you Mr Thread, Where you BELONG!!
cheers
Bludgeon
Lazybones
Adventurer
Thanks for the bump, Bludgeon.
* * * * *
Book V, Part 17
“Ahhh…”
“What’s wrong?” Cal asked.
“Something… wrong,” Benzan said. “It feels like my stomach wants to twist inside out.”
“I told you not to eat all that food that the quaggoth offered,” the gnome remonstrated him. “Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate their hospitality and all…”
“It’s not that,” the tiefling protested. “Something’s… just wrong. It’s similar to what I felt before… in Elturel, under the nobleman’s house.”
Cal’s eyebrows narrowed, although a hint of doubt remained at the tiefling’s revelation. He remembered that encounter all too well, the clash with a dark cleric of Cyric and his summoned demon that had concluded with his own death. While he was still troubled by memories of that time, he had since made peace with himself and the experience… though he had no desire to repeat it any time soon.
“Let’s go get Dana…” the gnome began, but cut himself off when they spotted the cleric, along with Lok, moving into the small side-cave which the quaggoth had set aside for them.
Since they had first been brought here the day before, Dana had been busy, helping the many quaggoth injured in the duergar ambush. Apparently the group they’d fought had been just one of several, and at least forty quaggoth had been taken as captives by the retreating dwarves. About that many had been injured, ranging from relatively minor slashes and punctures to the crippling hurts suffered by several in the ambush led by the dwarf psion. Apparently the quaggoth culture offered a fairly simple and brutal solution to the problem of crippled members, for Dana had had to physically intervene to stop them from killing the one whose leg had been savaged by one of the dwarf warriors. Fortunately Taktak had intervened on her behalf, and now the quaggoth was recovering, although he would likely limp for a while yet.
Now, however, Dana’s expression was troubled, and it was not due to anything having to do with their current hosts.
“What is it?” Cal asked.
“Something has happened,” she told them. “I was helping one of the female quaggoth prepare a poultice, when I felt a dark presence. It was like a shadow, something that briefly touched my soul and then crept on, leaving a chill in its wake. I cannot explain it more clearly, I’m afraid.”
“Benzan said he felt something similar,” Cal offered. “I don’t like it one bit, especially given our proximity to the duergar outpost.”
Their conversation was interrupted by the arrival of a quaggoth messenger, who bid them accompany him to the central den where the quaggoths gathered as a community. It wasn’t far, since most of the caves in the warren where the deep bears dwelled radiated off of that core chamber.
As they left the relative quiet of their quarters behind, the caverns around them began to take on the life of a busy, if currently subdued, community. Female quaggoths carrying heavy burdens bustled about on private errands, typically giving the companions a wide berth once they spotted them. The children, however, behaved in an opposite fashion, showing the curiosity that is a common trait of the young in virtually every species as they shadowed the four strangers. And then there were the males, nearly all wearing the dark pigments and bearing the weapons of the warrior caste, their eyes weighing each of them as though testing them for weaknesses just in case their current friendship should turn sour.
They entered the central den, where about fifty quaggoths, mostly warrior males, had already gathered. The distinctive form of Taktak was immediately visible within the half-circle of piled hides where the tribal leaders sat when they were engaged, as they were now, in a meeting. The quaggoth barbarian saw them and gestured for them to approach, indicating a small cleared space within the arms of the half-ring of seated warriors. The quaggoth elders were all large, muscular, and hale; the companions had already been witness to the fact that the culture of the deep bears did not tolerate weakness.
When they rested, Cal had regained his tongues spell, and had kept it at the ready for just such an occasion. While Lok could understand most of what the quaggoths said through his knowledge of Undercommon, none of them wanted a misunderstanding to taint this encounter.
The interview, however, was brief and to the point, so much so that Cal’s spell was barely necessary.
“You go to challenge the shadow dwarves?” Taktak asked, even as they seated themselves facing the assembled quorum.
“Yes,” Cal replied. “We seek to free the urdunnir, goodly dwarves kept as slaves by the evil shadow dwarves.”
A series of growls went through the assembled group of tribal leaders, a menacing sound until Cal realized that they were actually a form of nonverbal communication, sending meaning on a level more primal that the words that were translated by his spell. The feelings of the quaggoths toward the duergar, however, was quite clear to all of them.
Finally, Taktak silenced the layers of noises by leaning forward, gathering the four outsiders together once again in a single encompassing stare. “The stone-kin are not worry of quaggoth,” he said. “But the shadow dwarves have pushed us once too many times, and they must be taught that quaggoth are not weaklings to be chained and enslaved.”
“We have seen no weakness since we have come here,” Cal offered.
“You fight with great spirit,” the quaggoth said. “Your enemy is our enemy, so I will join your raid, along with a full claw of our greatest warriors. The others will remain behind to defend the tribe.”
The quaggoth’s announcement was greeted by a cacophony of roars from the assembled warriors that, while deafening in the confines of the cavern, seemed to generally express approval for their leader’s plan.
“Whatever you said, it seems to have worked! It looks like we have some new allies!” Benzan shouted over the din.
“It would seem so!” Cal replied, although his words were lost in the continuing clamor. Then there were quaggoths all around them, and the meeting, apparently adjourned, gave way to a confused welter of noise and fur and movement.
* * * * *
Book V, Part 17
“Ahhh…”
“What’s wrong?” Cal asked.
“Something… wrong,” Benzan said. “It feels like my stomach wants to twist inside out.”
“I told you not to eat all that food that the quaggoth offered,” the gnome remonstrated him. “Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate their hospitality and all…”
“It’s not that,” the tiefling protested. “Something’s… just wrong. It’s similar to what I felt before… in Elturel, under the nobleman’s house.”
Cal’s eyebrows narrowed, although a hint of doubt remained at the tiefling’s revelation. He remembered that encounter all too well, the clash with a dark cleric of Cyric and his summoned demon that had concluded with his own death. While he was still troubled by memories of that time, he had since made peace with himself and the experience… though he had no desire to repeat it any time soon.
“Let’s go get Dana…” the gnome began, but cut himself off when they spotted the cleric, along with Lok, moving into the small side-cave which the quaggoth had set aside for them.
Since they had first been brought here the day before, Dana had been busy, helping the many quaggoth injured in the duergar ambush. Apparently the group they’d fought had been just one of several, and at least forty quaggoth had been taken as captives by the retreating dwarves. About that many had been injured, ranging from relatively minor slashes and punctures to the crippling hurts suffered by several in the ambush led by the dwarf psion. Apparently the quaggoth culture offered a fairly simple and brutal solution to the problem of crippled members, for Dana had had to physically intervene to stop them from killing the one whose leg had been savaged by one of the dwarf warriors. Fortunately Taktak had intervened on her behalf, and now the quaggoth was recovering, although he would likely limp for a while yet.
Now, however, Dana’s expression was troubled, and it was not due to anything having to do with their current hosts.
“What is it?” Cal asked.
“Something has happened,” she told them. “I was helping one of the female quaggoth prepare a poultice, when I felt a dark presence. It was like a shadow, something that briefly touched my soul and then crept on, leaving a chill in its wake. I cannot explain it more clearly, I’m afraid.”
“Benzan said he felt something similar,” Cal offered. “I don’t like it one bit, especially given our proximity to the duergar outpost.”
Their conversation was interrupted by the arrival of a quaggoth messenger, who bid them accompany him to the central den where the quaggoths gathered as a community. It wasn’t far, since most of the caves in the warren where the deep bears dwelled radiated off of that core chamber.
As they left the relative quiet of their quarters behind, the caverns around them began to take on the life of a busy, if currently subdued, community. Female quaggoths carrying heavy burdens bustled about on private errands, typically giving the companions a wide berth once they spotted them. The children, however, behaved in an opposite fashion, showing the curiosity that is a common trait of the young in virtually every species as they shadowed the four strangers. And then there were the males, nearly all wearing the dark pigments and bearing the weapons of the warrior caste, their eyes weighing each of them as though testing them for weaknesses just in case their current friendship should turn sour.
They entered the central den, where about fifty quaggoths, mostly warrior males, had already gathered. The distinctive form of Taktak was immediately visible within the half-circle of piled hides where the tribal leaders sat when they were engaged, as they were now, in a meeting. The quaggoth barbarian saw them and gestured for them to approach, indicating a small cleared space within the arms of the half-ring of seated warriors. The quaggoth elders were all large, muscular, and hale; the companions had already been witness to the fact that the culture of the deep bears did not tolerate weakness.
When they rested, Cal had regained his tongues spell, and had kept it at the ready for just such an occasion. While Lok could understand most of what the quaggoths said through his knowledge of Undercommon, none of them wanted a misunderstanding to taint this encounter.
The interview, however, was brief and to the point, so much so that Cal’s spell was barely necessary.
“You go to challenge the shadow dwarves?” Taktak asked, even as they seated themselves facing the assembled quorum.
“Yes,” Cal replied. “We seek to free the urdunnir, goodly dwarves kept as slaves by the evil shadow dwarves.”
A series of growls went through the assembled group of tribal leaders, a menacing sound until Cal realized that they were actually a form of nonverbal communication, sending meaning on a level more primal that the words that were translated by his spell. The feelings of the quaggoths toward the duergar, however, was quite clear to all of them.
Finally, Taktak silenced the layers of noises by leaning forward, gathering the four outsiders together once again in a single encompassing stare. “The stone-kin are not worry of quaggoth,” he said. “But the shadow dwarves have pushed us once too many times, and they must be taught that quaggoth are not weaklings to be chained and enslaved.”
“We have seen no weakness since we have come here,” Cal offered.
“You fight with great spirit,” the quaggoth said. “Your enemy is our enemy, so I will join your raid, along with a full claw of our greatest warriors. The others will remain behind to defend the tribe.”
The quaggoth’s announcement was greeted by a cacophony of roars from the assembled warriors that, while deafening in the confines of the cavern, seemed to generally express approval for their leader’s plan.
“Whatever you said, it seems to have worked! It looks like we have some new allies!” Benzan shouted over the din.
“It would seem so!” Cal replied, although his words were lost in the continuing clamor. Then there were quaggoths all around them, and the meeting, apparently adjourned, gave way to a confused welter of noise and fur and movement.
Lazybones
Adventurer
Thanks to everyone who's been working to keep my story on page 1. Is it just me, or have there been a deluge of new story hours recently? I wish I had time to read them all...
I was feeling guilty about my decreasing update-frequency until I quickly added up the numbers. In the six months since I ported the story to the new boards (that was mid-January), I've made 118 story posts. That's about 2 posts for every 3 days. No wonder I'm getting tired!
Ok, enough tooting my own horn, here's the Friday update. I try to offer up a good cliffhanger on Fridays, but we're in setting-the-stage mode right now... promise we're building to something big though!
* * * * *
Book V, Part 18
Apparently the quaggoths’ enthusiasm was not quick to fade, for the noise of activity from the common cave did not die down for hours after the companions were able to slip out of the gathering and return to their side cave to rest and prepare. They spent that time in relative quiet, themselves, each focused on private tasks. Lok made some minor repairs to his armor, the sound of metal tapping on metal interrupting the quiet every so often as he coaxed a slightly damaged piece back into place. Benzan checked his arrows, spent some time paging through his tiny spellbook, and then, bored, leaned back against a rock and drifted off into sleep. Cal read his own spellbook, verifying that each of the spells that burned in his memory were ready to be called upon in their defense, and wrote a little in his journal. Dana spent the time in contemplative prayer, although in this dark place far under the ground the reassuring presence of the moon goddess seemed far away indeed.
When the time finally came, it was Taktak himself who arrived, slipping into the cave like a shadow. His muscular torso was covered by a fresh coat of dark pigments, breaking up the lines of his form and helping him blend into the surrounding stone. He carried his huge mace at the ready, and the growl that he shot them as he entered held a faint tremor of anticipation.
Without discussion the companions gathered up their gear and followed the quaggoth into one of the dark tunnels that radiated out from their lair. Their footfalls upon the stone beneath them echoed through the cavernous depths, although Taktak’s heavier stride made barely a whisper in his passage. There was no need for speech. All of them had been here before, marching off to another dread confrontation, but somehow down here the feverish excitement of adventure seemed replaced by a heavy cloak of numb blackness. Even Lok, who could look forward to finally finding his people once again, seemed to grip the haft of his axe with resignation.
Taktak led them to a small side cavern, off of the main passageway, where the rest of their company waited. The “claw” that Taktak had described was a quartet of quaggoth warriors, standing together like a cluster of stone sentinels in the open space of the cavern. All were armed with a variety of heavy weapons, and streaked like Taktak with the dark camouflage pigments.
Taktak exchanged a few words with the warriors in the quaggoth language. One of the warriors turned toward the companions and asked something, to which Taktak replied with a clipped phrase and a low growl. The others laughed—a strange sound indeed, coming from the throats of the deep bears.
“What did they say?” Benzan asked.
“That one said that carrying that flame around would draw attacks down upon us, and Taktak said to bring them on,” Lok translated. His grip of Undercommon allowed him to just understand the guttural words of the quaggoth tongue, but it would be enough for them to pass basic meaning between the two groups. If necessary, they could bolster that with Cal’s tongues spell or Dana’s comprehend languages, but as each power was only usable once per day, they would preserve it until it was sorely needed.
The quaggoths were gathering up their own gear when Benzan heard a faint scraping sound in the passageway behind them. “Someone’s coming!” he hissed, stringing his bow as he slid into the shadows along the uneven wall of the cavern.
The quaggoths were quick to reply, spreading out into a half-circle that faced in the direction of the sound. The mystery was quickly solved, however, as a growl ventured out of the darkness, and another quaggoth stepped forward, outfitted like the others.
“A last minute addition? Or a messenger, perhaps?” Cal said.
As the quaggoth came nearer, it was clear that it had a slight limp, favoring its left leg slightly as it walked straight toward the quaggoth leader and faced him with a look that could only be described as defiant.
It growled, and Taktak responded with a growl of his own that did not sound pleased.
“What’s going on?” Benzan asked.
“That quaggoth—it’s the one that Dana saved, after the battle with the duergar,” Cal observed. “Looks like Taktak’s not happy to see him.”
The exchange between the two quaggoths went on for a few moments longer, growing more intense until they feared that the pair would actually come to blows. Finally, however, Taktak made a final pronouncement, and the injured quaggoth drew himself up to his full height, his defiance clear in his stance. After a long pause, Taktak nodded and pointed toward the companions. The quaggoth walked over to them, doing its best to conceal its limp, and shot them a grin full of wickedly jagged teeth. It growled a greeting, focusing its attention on Dana.
“He says his name is Rakkath,” Lok said.
“Well, looks like we have one more, then,” Benzan noted.
* * * * *
They didn’t get off to a very auspicious start.
It wasn’t difficult to follow the trail left by the departing duergar raiders and their new slaves, even with more than a day’s passage in between. In the Underdark there was no weather to obscure tracks, and even on the hard stone there were enough traces left for the quaggoth to track their quarry.
They were only a few hours into their journey when the trail passed under a low overhang, with a gap of perhaps six feet or so between the floor and protruding ceiling above. The first quaggoth leaned forward and ducked under the edge of the overhang, but even as he started to straighten again those following heard a sharp snap, followed by a loud clatter of falling rocks. The quaggoth went down, crushed by several direct impacts.
The others quickly moved to help the battered creature, and Dana was there immediately with a ready healing spell, but it was too late. One of the stones had struck the creature solidly in the back of the neck, crushing his spine.
It was clear that the duergar had anticipated someone coming after them.
The moved on, experience adding more caution to their steps. Taktak himself moved to the lead, and after a short while Benzan slipped forward to join him. At first the quaggoth glared at the tiefling’s intrusion, but later that day, after Benzan spotted another trap moments before the quaggoth leader would have stepped into it, the pair settled into a working truce.
Despite the need to be wary, they covered a lot of ground, with Taktak driving them all to as quick a pace as they could handle. Lok’s short frame and heavy armor slowed them down somewhat, but his incredible constitution allowed him to push himself far enough to keep to the pace. Cal’s legs were even shorter, and after that first morning Taktak started having his warriors take turns bearing the gnome aloft on their shoulders. Neither the gnome nor the quaggoths were that happy with the arrangement, but it did allow them to quicken their pace.
By the middle of the second day, they had detected and bypassed another pair of traps left behind by the retreating duergar column, but had not encountered anything living save for the usual fauna of the Underdark tunnels. Soon, however, Taktak began to slow their pace again, as the first signs of their impending destination became visible around them. At first those signs were subtle; a smudged trail of soot on a wall here, a piece of a broken tool lying between a pair of stones there. They passed several small side passages that had clearly been cut by intelligent hands, no doubt test shafts in the duergar mining operations that had not panned out.
Finally, as they crept forward through the tunnels, they heard a sound; a faint tinkering of metal on stone. Although it was impossible to tell exactly, given the tricks of sound that were common in this place, it seemed far distant, like an echo of an echo. One thing they could determine, however; the sound was coming from somewhere up ahead.
Now they crept forward at full alert, the quaggoths bent forward as they slipped silently ahead on their padded feet. Taktak made a gesture back to them, pointing at the everburning flame that Dana carried. The cleric nodded and shrouded the light under her cloak, allowing just enough of its illumination to seep out for her to see the ground right in front of her feet. Cal, back on his own feet again, stayed back with her, even his excellent low-light vision tested by the dim glow coming from under her garment. With her action the darkness fell back in on them like a crashing wave, enveloping them in its fastness.
But the quaggoths were creatures of the dark places, and they moved into the lead as the company continued forward. Benzan was still near the front of the column, but Lok hung back with Cal and Dana, his noisy gear as much of a beacon to potential ambushers as Dana’s light had been. Rakkath hung back as well, bringing up the rear behind Dana, matching their pace through sheer determination. Dana had covertly slipped him magical healing several times during the trip despite the proud creature’s reluctance to accept aid. Still it was clear to anyone who saw into his dark eyes that the deep bear was in pain, though he offered no complaint as he shambled along after them.
As they progressed deeper into the tunnels the signs of recent occupation grew. They passed through caves where tools were scattered about haphazardly, as if hastily dropped and left behind. At one point they found a small iron brazier, the sort used for heating metal tools to work them in the field, and when Benzan touched it he found that the coals inside were still warm.
“I don’t like this…” the tiefling muttered.
The distant clanging had accompanied their stalking advance, growing gradually louder, but then, suddenly, it stopped. They halted and waited, but the sound wasn’t repeated. It was as if they had stepped across a trigger that had snuffed out the source of the noise like a candle’s flame.
A few muted growls passed through the knot of quaggoth warriors, betraying their own unease at the building tension. Taktak, however, ignored them and started forward again, and the others quickly moved to follow.
They came to a jagged bend in the passage, which opened onto another larger space beyond. As he crept round the corner enough to see around the turn, Taktak suddenly exploded forward, his mace at the ready, the other quaggoths only an instant behind him.
The companions rushed after them, weapons appearing in their hands, uncertain what danger awaited.
I was feeling guilty about my decreasing update-frequency until I quickly added up the numbers. In the six months since I ported the story to the new boards (that was mid-January), I've made 118 story posts. That's about 2 posts for every 3 days. No wonder I'm getting tired!
Ok, enough tooting my own horn, here's the Friday update. I try to offer up a good cliffhanger on Fridays, but we're in setting-the-stage mode right now... promise we're building to something big though!
* * * * *
Book V, Part 18
Apparently the quaggoths’ enthusiasm was not quick to fade, for the noise of activity from the common cave did not die down for hours after the companions were able to slip out of the gathering and return to their side cave to rest and prepare. They spent that time in relative quiet, themselves, each focused on private tasks. Lok made some minor repairs to his armor, the sound of metal tapping on metal interrupting the quiet every so often as he coaxed a slightly damaged piece back into place. Benzan checked his arrows, spent some time paging through his tiny spellbook, and then, bored, leaned back against a rock and drifted off into sleep. Cal read his own spellbook, verifying that each of the spells that burned in his memory were ready to be called upon in their defense, and wrote a little in his journal. Dana spent the time in contemplative prayer, although in this dark place far under the ground the reassuring presence of the moon goddess seemed far away indeed.
When the time finally came, it was Taktak himself who arrived, slipping into the cave like a shadow. His muscular torso was covered by a fresh coat of dark pigments, breaking up the lines of his form and helping him blend into the surrounding stone. He carried his huge mace at the ready, and the growl that he shot them as he entered held a faint tremor of anticipation.
Without discussion the companions gathered up their gear and followed the quaggoth into one of the dark tunnels that radiated out from their lair. Their footfalls upon the stone beneath them echoed through the cavernous depths, although Taktak’s heavier stride made barely a whisper in his passage. There was no need for speech. All of them had been here before, marching off to another dread confrontation, but somehow down here the feverish excitement of adventure seemed replaced by a heavy cloak of numb blackness. Even Lok, who could look forward to finally finding his people once again, seemed to grip the haft of his axe with resignation.
Taktak led them to a small side cavern, off of the main passageway, where the rest of their company waited. The “claw” that Taktak had described was a quartet of quaggoth warriors, standing together like a cluster of stone sentinels in the open space of the cavern. All were armed with a variety of heavy weapons, and streaked like Taktak with the dark camouflage pigments.
Taktak exchanged a few words with the warriors in the quaggoth language. One of the warriors turned toward the companions and asked something, to which Taktak replied with a clipped phrase and a low growl. The others laughed—a strange sound indeed, coming from the throats of the deep bears.
“What did they say?” Benzan asked.
“That one said that carrying that flame around would draw attacks down upon us, and Taktak said to bring them on,” Lok translated. His grip of Undercommon allowed him to just understand the guttural words of the quaggoth tongue, but it would be enough for them to pass basic meaning between the two groups. If necessary, they could bolster that with Cal’s tongues spell or Dana’s comprehend languages, but as each power was only usable once per day, they would preserve it until it was sorely needed.
The quaggoths were gathering up their own gear when Benzan heard a faint scraping sound in the passageway behind them. “Someone’s coming!” he hissed, stringing his bow as he slid into the shadows along the uneven wall of the cavern.
The quaggoths were quick to reply, spreading out into a half-circle that faced in the direction of the sound. The mystery was quickly solved, however, as a growl ventured out of the darkness, and another quaggoth stepped forward, outfitted like the others.
“A last minute addition? Or a messenger, perhaps?” Cal said.
As the quaggoth came nearer, it was clear that it had a slight limp, favoring its left leg slightly as it walked straight toward the quaggoth leader and faced him with a look that could only be described as defiant.
It growled, and Taktak responded with a growl of his own that did not sound pleased.
“What’s going on?” Benzan asked.
“That quaggoth—it’s the one that Dana saved, after the battle with the duergar,” Cal observed. “Looks like Taktak’s not happy to see him.”
The exchange between the two quaggoths went on for a few moments longer, growing more intense until they feared that the pair would actually come to blows. Finally, however, Taktak made a final pronouncement, and the injured quaggoth drew himself up to his full height, his defiance clear in his stance. After a long pause, Taktak nodded and pointed toward the companions. The quaggoth walked over to them, doing its best to conceal its limp, and shot them a grin full of wickedly jagged teeth. It growled a greeting, focusing its attention on Dana.
“He says his name is Rakkath,” Lok said.
“Well, looks like we have one more, then,” Benzan noted.
* * * * *
They didn’t get off to a very auspicious start.
It wasn’t difficult to follow the trail left by the departing duergar raiders and their new slaves, even with more than a day’s passage in between. In the Underdark there was no weather to obscure tracks, and even on the hard stone there were enough traces left for the quaggoth to track their quarry.
They were only a few hours into their journey when the trail passed under a low overhang, with a gap of perhaps six feet or so between the floor and protruding ceiling above. The first quaggoth leaned forward and ducked under the edge of the overhang, but even as he started to straighten again those following heard a sharp snap, followed by a loud clatter of falling rocks. The quaggoth went down, crushed by several direct impacts.
The others quickly moved to help the battered creature, and Dana was there immediately with a ready healing spell, but it was too late. One of the stones had struck the creature solidly in the back of the neck, crushing his spine.
It was clear that the duergar had anticipated someone coming after them.
The moved on, experience adding more caution to their steps. Taktak himself moved to the lead, and after a short while Benzan slipped forward to join him. At first the quaggoth glared at the tiefling’s intrusion, but later that day, after Benzan spotted another trap moments before the quaggoth leader would have stepped into it, the pair settled into a working truce.
Despite the need to be wary, they covered a lot of ground, with Taktak driving them all to as quick a pace as they could handle. Lok’s short frame and heavy armor slowed them down somewhat, but his incredible constitution allowed him to push himself far enough to keep to the pace. Cal’s legs were even shorter, and after that first morning Taktak started having his warriors take turns bearing the gnome aloft on their shoulders. Neither the gnome nor the quaggoths were that happy with the arrangement, but it did allow them to quicken their pace.
By the middle of the second day, they had detected and bypassed another pair of traps left behind by the retreating duergar column, but had not encountered anything living save for the usual fauna of the Underdark tunnels. Soon, however, Taktak began to slow their pace again, as the first signs of their impending destination became visible around them. At first those signs were subtle; a smudged trail of soot on a wall here, a piece of a broken tool lying between a pair of stones there. They passed several small side passages that had clearly been cut by intelligent hands, no doubt test shafts in the duergar mining operations that had not panned out.
Finally, as they crept forward through the tunnels, they heard a sound; a faint tinkering of metal on stone. Although it was impossible to tell exactly, given the tricks of sound that were common in this place, it seemed far distant, like an echo of an echo. One thing they could determine, however; the sound was coming from somewhere up ahead.
Now they crept forward at full alert, the quaggoths bent forward as they slipped silently ahead on their padded feet. Taktak made a gesture back to them, pointing at the everburning flame that Dana carried. The cleric nodded and shrouded the light under her cloak, allowing just enough of its illumination to seep out for her to see the ground right in front of her feet. Cal, back on his own feet again, stayed back with her, even his excellent low-light vision tested by the dim glow coming from under her garment. With her action the darkness fell back in on them like a crashing wave, enveloping them in its fastness.
But the quaggoths were creatures of the dark places, and they moved into the lead as the company continued forward. Benzan was still near the front of the column, but Lok hung back with Cal and Dana, his noisy gear as much of a beacon to potential ambushers as Dana’s light had been. Rakkath hung back as well, bringing up the rear behind Dana, matching their pace through sheer determination. Dana had covertly slipped him magical healing several times during the trip despite the proud creature’s reluctance to accept aid. Still it was clear to anyone who saw into his dark eyes that the deep bear was in pain, though he offered no complaint as he shambled along after them.
As they progressed deeper into the tunnels the signs of recent occupation grew. They passed through caves where tools were scattered about haphazardly, as if hastily dropped and left behind. At one point they found a small iron brazier, the sort used for heating metal tools to work them in the field, and when Benzan touched it he found that the coals inside were still warm.
“I don’t like this…” the tiefling muttered.
The distant clanging had accompanied their stalking advance, growing gradually louder, but then, suddenly, it stopped. They halted and waited, but the sound wasn’t repeated. It was as if they had stepped across a trigger that had snuffed out the source of the noise like a candle’s flame.
A few muted growls passed through the knot of quaggoth warriors, betraying their own unease at the building tension. Taktak, however, ignored them and started forward again, and the others quickly moved to follow.
They came to a jagged bend in the passage, which opened onto another larger space beyond. As he crept round the corner enough to see around the turn, Taktak suddenly exploded forward, his mace at the ready, the other quaggoths only an instant behind him.
The companions rushed after them, weapons appearing in their hands, uncertain what danger awaited.
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