Veronica seemed to have somehow mistaken Roland for a nice guy. "Those little snakes back there? They were just alive for now because I was busy coming here. I'm gonna help them hatch, don't worry. Be back in a few."
Roland moves away from the good litle folk and starts going back after lighting his torch, to get rid of the remaining snake eggs, just in case they thought of hatching and feeding on some little folk, or maybe on them.
If nothing shows up, he's gonna go back there and rejoin the group once that's done.
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Just to make sure the barbarian don't get into trouble, Catcher follows him up, you know, since she is already babysitting Walker and Aersensi, she can afford to babysit one more. She leave the little girl and the old man in Veronica's care.
Once they are far away, she comments "So, what do you think? Gromff willing to help? That seems very strange. Did something happened that I'm not aware?"
"Aye hold on," Gromff says trying to hold off the questions and answer them one at a time. He describes his mountain home's location and a little about the people. He also describes the situation of the siege by devil forces but is confident they can hold out. And in the worst case, the pech might be able to show them a way through the deep roads out. "I seen folk like yours deep in the mountain. Not sure why we never made contact. Probably too deep or no tunnels down. If'n that's the case then the earth above ye will at least be safe. But we'll see ta this monster first."
The spellsword and largebarian left the pech's small city to ensure the destruction of the serpent's progeny. Using the magic dancing lights to show the way, they made their way through the long tunnels that led through mines and eventually back to the snake's den. It wasn't long before the realization set in that they were alone...together.
The eggs remained in a cluster, untouched since the party was last there. Though the leathery shells were tough as far as eggs go, they were dispatched with ease by the powerful weapons wielded by the pair of warriors. After destroying the eggs and wiping off the gooey remains, they traipsed back to the group. The trek took about an hour in total.
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While the pair were gone, the Solid One offered his gratitude to Gromff and Veronica for their willingness to not only do battle with the white beast, but for their notion of relocating to join the dwarves of Khaurak-Khozil in their deep, cavernous undermountain. Though it was a generous offer, it would be an undertaking of large proportions, and so the preferred course was to put their faith in these newly-arrived heroes.
Reverting to the common tongue, the Solid One spoke once more to the assembled group of heroes,
"Your...heroic efforts...will live on in our hearts and minds. I...grow weary...and must return...to rest."
The bearded elder smiled at the group after his last words to them. He then seemed to glide back into the hard stone floor that he had risen up from when they first met. After a moment, he was gone.
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Once they are far away, she comments "So, what do you think? Gromff willing to help? That seems very strange. Did something happened that I'm not aware?"
Noticing Roland besides her strangely quiet, she pokes the lion, but just a bit.
”Well, I didn’t knew you were that shy. Just because we are alone you can’t even talk anymore?” she chuckles.
Murk and a nearly-identical (at least to your eyes) pech joined the group, ready to embark on the next leg of the journey. Each of the guides had stuffed a pack with food and water and lined their belts with tools and peculiar weapons that were a combination of pick and hammer. Clearly they weren't going to leave the relative safety of their village unarmed.
After Walker, Aersensi and the rest of the group had finished their brief respite, the group left Kurrackenkor with the new pech guides, heading off in what was apparently a southerly route.
Murk's companion exuded a feeling of confidence and skill that marked him as their primary guide for this adventure, though he left the majority of the talking to Murk since he was the one who had made first contact.
Speaking in terran still, Murk offered "Many are the dangers that lurk in our world, under yours above. We will do our best to avoid danger where we can, but there will be times that we will all need to be on guard. We have a long journey ahead."
The journey was indeed long. There was something very taxing about this mode of travel; the "trail", if one could call it that, was seldom flat for any period of time. Caves led to caverns which led to more caves. Narrow chutes and steep climbs were not uncommon along the way. The floor was perpetually rugged and gravelly, making for unsure footing and oft-twisted ankles. The first few hours were difficult for most but particularly so for the elderly Walker, though he always seemed to manage to keep up with the group.
The party had stopped for yet another of their frequent rests to drink and refresh, when Murk pointed down what looked like every other dark cave you had entered over the last several hours.
"We are about to enter a cavern that once was a great city. It was inhabited by a race of people with no true name, but are referred to as the Dark Folk. Their city is mostly deserted now but there are some that remain there, clinging to the former glory of their capital, hateful and distrustful of any who would trespass. Despite this, it is by far the most direct route to our destination and I believe it is worth the risk of crossing to keep our journey on track."
The people known as the "Dark Folk" were once human if the sage's texts are true. Ancient forgotten wars splintered the human race into factions that fled to the ends of the earth, but some opted to delve into the ground like many other humanoid races had before them. Over thousands of years these humans had adapted to these dark places, mostly by use of magic. The types of magic trended toward a darker and darker nature, eventually corrupting the people that it was meant to protect. They now resemble humans only in general shape; their faces and skin quite pale but are perpetually hidden in shadowy hoods and black leathers.
They are exceptionally vulnerable to bright light, but are as home in the dark as any drow elf or mountain dwarf.
Veronica actually found herself quite nostalgic about the travel through the caverns. It reminded her of her endurance training back home, climbing the mountain trails and paths that were chosen specifically because they were difficult and tiring. But at least this time the chill of the stone was constant and not the biting snowy winds often found in the mountain trails.
And as her companions grew weary of their climb, she would lay hands on them and take their weariness into herself. And even as she gasped for breath or wiped sweat from her brow there was a smile on her face not normally found during their routine travels. And the ache of her muscles when she laid down at night warmed her more than any travel blanket, with such a familiar feeling to match her times spent reading from her great tome.
And when their guide offers a warning she nods and simply asks "Is there anything else that thou canst tell us about these 'Dark Ones'?"
Noticing Roland besides her strangely quiet, she pokes the lion, but just a bit.
”Well, I didn’t knew you were that shy. Just because we are alone you can’t even talk anymore?” she chuckles.
Roland was just chilling on the way to the eggs. He heard the heavy steps of the soft-skinned girl beside him, along him her heavy breathing. Everything seemed to be heavier underground. The sound reverberated on the walls and made every effort much more consequential than in other places. It made Roland rethink about the surface and how much they were lucky to live there, cause he noticed he could not withstand his whole life in a place like this.
He was thinking and recalling things, forgetting for a moment Catcher was even there with him, when she opens her mouth to try to... confabulate? With him? She looked at her, trying to notice if she was under a spell or enchantment, but then the impatient spirit said something else, not giving him time to Detect Magic. "Chill, wizard! I'm trying to remember girl, I don't know what happened. I find it weird too, though. Perhaps he just noticed that Walker is breaking and he wants to hurry. Or maybe he's thinking if he made the right call about his home." He shrugs. "Anyway we will go either way, so it doesn't really matter. And what's going on with you? You stood quiet there, not making the usual unpleasant comment. Has your teenage spirit deserted you?"
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On the path to the spear Roland grew a little more restless, keeping his ears focused on everything, since his eyes weren't of much use here. He thought this is what would be like to Veronica, having your sight always limited. Still, the woman was cheerful and happy and the way there, and he wondered what would be the reason for that. Roland noticed Walker having difficulties with the path and lent him his handsomely-brute feather step boots, so he wouldn't break a leg or anything like that. The gods knew they could not afford that.
Then they come to an entrance of a crypt or something similar, and Roland thinks it could be good after all, since he could use some more arm exercise instead of the leg ones. "DP loves to meet new people."
Aw, the sweet feel of cool stone beneath his feet. Gromff didn't realize how much he missed it. Travel seemed difficult for the others and, admittedly, it was for him to at some points. He was used to the uncanny smoothness of dwarven tunnels. But his eyesight and surefootedness balanced with his heavy armor so he was fatigued no more than they were.
Gromff didn't know what dark folk were but he could understand the xenophobia. "Ain't nothing wrong with wanting people out o yer home ye don't want there. Any chance they'll let us through? Got plenty o coin if'n that moves them."
And when their guide offers a warning she nods and simply asks "Is there anything else that thou canst tell us about these 'Dark Ones'?"
"They are a strange lot. They seem to have sub-groups among them. Some are small like us pech, others are large like you humans. They are masters of the underworld and can conjure up magical darkness that not even a pech's - or dwarf's - eyes can see in. If the darkness closes in on us, it surely means they are near."
Gromff didn't know what dark folk were but he could understand the xenophobia. "Ain't nothing wrong with wanting people out o yer home ye don't want there. Any chance they'll let us through? Got plenty o coin if'n that moves them."
"In our limited experience with them, they have proven to be greedy thieves. An offer of coin might buy us safe passage, but it also might provoke them into an attack, in hopes of stealing all of our treasures. I do not know how well that would work; We pech try to avoid the Dark Folk and so we do not know their hearts and minds very well. It may be worth a try, if the time comes."
Suddenly the torchlight in the back of the group was snuffed out, putting a total and complete darkness over the chamber, causing Aersensi to cry out in fear. A soft sound of conjured magic hissed multiple times here and there, filling the immediate area with a supernatural darkness that even darkvision could not penetrate.
From somewhere up above the group a deep male voice called out in the terran tongue, the same tongue spoken moments ago by the pech and dwarf,
"The time has come, little pech. You and the surface-dwellers are trespassing here. Now please, tell us more of this...coin?"
Gromff was not used to pure darkness. Even with his training, which included blind navigation, loosing the ability to see in the dark was startling. But like any dwarf, he refused to show it. "Aye, we have coin fer safe passage," he says projecting his voice into the darkness. "Ye don't want us here and we don't want ta stay. Ye offer a fair price and ye'll be richer and us gone. Ain't makin a deal with someone I cannae see though."
Gromff didn't dare move or whisper any commands to the others. He didn't know how good dark folk hearing was. It must be pretty good if they were found and overheard so easily. He hoped Catcher had the sense to grab Roland and stand guard over Aersensi and Walker.
Darkness. They should have talked that about before getting near here, shouldn't they? Anyway, it was too late now, and things were about to get interesting.
Roland stood up, drew DP, laying it on his shoulder. It was pointless to look for the enemy, he thought. If they were skilled as the Pech mentioned, whatever direction they approached from, they would be unseen. So it might be better to try to learn how to fight them, or maybe to hide your lack of ability somehow. So the barbarian just stood there, closed his eyes and tried to listen to everything, just like he did some time ago when he and Catcher were being romantic. There could be more enemies around them.
Maybe the enemies would even feel uncomfortable with his self-confidence, who knew?
Veronica wraps her cloak around her when her sight goes completely black and steps back towards the others. For a moment she is unsure if this is just her already weak sight failing her or if something is afoot. At least until the 'Dark One' speaks.
Veronica does not know the words spoken, nor can she see the creature, but given their conversation with the Pech she decides to try and understand the nature of this... person. Staring out into the black she searches for an cold aura to match with the unknown voice.
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"And what's going on with you? You stood quiet there, not making the usual unpleasant comment. Has your teenage spirit deserted you?"
”Don’t you worry, you silly. It’s still here.” she looks over the darkness from where they walked just a couple of moments ago before saying ”It’s just I don’t feel like bothering anymore. The self-serving and ignorant, the blind and the fool, the desperate and the misleading.” she smiles and it’s a sad smile ”Why try to change what doesn’t want to be changed?”
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On their path to the spear, once veronica asks about the dark ones, Catcher says as well.
”If you are to believe the old tales, the people known as the "Dark Folk" were once human. Ancient forgotten wars splintered the human race into factions that fled to the ends of the earth, but some opted to delve into the ground like many other humanoid races had before them. Over thousands of years these humans had adapted to these dark places, mostly by use of magic. The types of magic trended toward a darker and darker nature, eventually corrupting the people that it was meant to protect. They now resemble humans only in general shape; their faces and skin quite pale but are perpetually hidden in shadowy hoods and black leathers.”
That's when the lights are put out and things got complicated.
She walk on front of Aersensi, in a feeble attempt to shield the girl from a danger she can’t see.
Now that the "curtains" have been drawn and the gauntlet thrown, the sneaking enemies remain hidden but apparently are not trying their best to remain silent.
"Aye, we have coin fer safe passage," he says projecting his voice into the darkness. "Ye don't want us here and we don't want ta stay. Ye offer a fair price and ye'll be richer and us gone. Ain't makin a deal with someone I cannae see though."
Several tense moments passed before the stranger spoke again. A couple of whispers go back and forth, indecipherable even to the sharpest of present ears, then the deep voice speaks again in terran,
"You will leave 500 gold coins and one enchanted item upon the floor. This will buy your free passage through these tunnels and through our city...one way only. You have my word that you will travel unmolested whilst in our domain."Just as suddenly as it arrived, the darkness upon the group was dispelled. Some pockets of deep, supernatural darkness remained behind and in front of the group, blocking darkvision through the tunnel toward the abandoned city and from whence the heroes came.
Looking up to the speaker, the party sees a ledge upon which a trio of black-clad figures knelt, looking down upon the gathered motley crew. Each of them are about the height of a human (though thinner in stature), covered from head-to-toe in black leathers and cloth (including a wide black hood enshrouding their faces), and all three have soot-blackened steel blades in their hands.
He is uncertain of their ability to deal with you heroes. Whatever was whispered to him before he spoke has him somewhat unnerved and lacking in the confidence that he had in his first words that coincided with the darkness spells.
It takes a moment for Gromff to realize the darkness has dissipated. He was looking straight ahead and that was the only darkness that remained. He looks around, not having located the source of the voices from the echoing. Left and right he didn't so anyone, so up. Even after revealing themselves, it was hard to make them out with all that black. He wanted to tangle with them even less. Gromff was certain they'd win but it'd be an annoying game of cat and mouse with two non-combatants to protect. Not fun odds. So the toll sounded fair enough. Still, he made a showing of it being a steep price, grumbling as he counted the coin. "And no one will follow once we leave?"
Roland is enjoying this little game. They seemed to be somehow afraid of them, he could tell. So first, still his eyes closed, he moved his head to stare at the tunnel behind them, from where he heard one of the not-so-stealthy enemies. Then he moves his head in the opposite direction, looking in the direction where a second enemy would be. He did not notice the light had returned to some parts, since he did not open his eyes, but still he moved his head to stare above them, showing his enemies he knew where they were, even with his eyes closed.
To the others he translates the Terran, since Catcher and Veronica didn't seem to understand that. Roland did not seem to care if the enemies understood common or not. "He wants us to give him 500 gold pieces and 1 enchanted item. He gave his word he will let us pass through the city unharmed. They are no match for us, and they know it. I don't think he has the authority to make that deal, though. It sounds like a trap."
In his perfect Terran Roland joins the conversation with the dwarf and the enemies. "500 dragons is a lot of gold, you know. Plus an item. Expensive, is it not? Also, we would trust your word, if we knew you could be trusted. We don't. And you don't know us. What's your position among your people? Are you the leader of this city by any chance?"
In his perfect Terran Roland joins the conversation with the dwarf and the enemies. "500 dragons is a lot of gold, you know. Plus an item. Expensive, is it not? Also, we would trust your word, if we knew you could be trusted. We don't. And you don't know us. What's your position among your people? Are you the leader of this city by any chance?"
More whispers ensued in their cryptic language. If their inflection was an indicator, the words shared were harsh.
The original speaker resumed the conversation in terran,
"I am Fuelyon, first ranger of the Scattered Folk. I am as as much a leader as our people will accept in these times, though there are many who have tried...and failed...to take my place."
"Keep your coin, then. Leave us one enchanted item and we will bother you no more."
"And no one will follow once we leave?"
"We will follow only to ensure you proceed on your way. You will not be molested."
Roland is somehow disappointed. He kinda expected things to go wrong here, but the difference in power must be really clear. Or maybe they were falling into a trap! They would know soon enough. "They lowered the price to an enchanted item. He said he's first ranger, if I understood correctly, and he's kind of a leader. Kind of. In my opinion it's a valid option. Saves us the time."
He shrugs and approaches the others to choose which item to give away.
Adding to Roland's bravado, Gromff pulls out of a small pouch a long javelin. It was blue all the way down and made his beard hairs stand up at the slightly subdued energy within. The lightning javelin they'd been holding onto since the fight with the hellskin ogre. He prepares to hand over the spear and the gold anyway.
"Spears fer passage. Coins fer information. Ye know of a great white tentacled beast not too far from here?" On the off chance there was a connection between these people and the beast, better to know about it now outside of their home and with most of the darkness gone.
As the others wheel and deal, Veronica remains unsure of how this is going to go down. Keeping her cloak bundled tight, she focuses her eyes on the other members of her party, watching the pulse of their heartbeats. She focuses her breathing, feeling their heartbeats within her own, connecting her life with theirs.
But she clutches her cloak tighter when Gromff retrieves the spear, her other hand gripping her walking stick tightly, as she awaits the combat to start.
"Spears fer passage. Coins fer information. Ye know of a great white tentacled beast not too far from here?" On the off chance there was a connection between these people and the beast, better to know about it now outside of their home and with most of the darkness gone.
The speaker spoke to those nearest him, likely relaying Gromff's words into their native tongue. Several harsh words that sounded almost like hissing ensued, shared back and forth between the three Dark Folk upon the upper ledge. After their heated discussion Fuelyon turned back toward Gromff,
"The White Beast is a foe to any who prefers freedom. It is not of this world, though it makes allies with the feared tentacled scourge of the underworld -- the Illithid."
The last word oozed from his mouth, spoken slowly for emphasis.
The illithid, also known as the 'mind-flayers', are yet another race of humanoids that live under Atma's crust. Their most distinctive features are their faces which resemble octopi, replete with tentacles which they use to latch on to their victims and literally suck the brains out. This horrible race is evil in the extreme, using their innate mental psionic magic to charm, dominate, and enslave those they encounter.
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Fuelyon continued with venom in his tone,
"We do know where the white beast's slave pit is. Some of our own now fill its ranks of slaves, laboring away for rare ores and gems. The pit is nearly a day's travel from our city, further south through the tunnels."
Although Roland seemed at first displeased with Gromff's question, he now sees the wisdom (or luck) in that. Same as before, he did not know of this creatures the shadowy one spoke of, but maybe they could be told something about it. He translates the information to Catcher and Veronica, then adds in Terran. "If you despise them, help us providing more information so we can certainly defeat it. The more you tell us about its attack and weakness, the more certain you will benefit from it." Now he wanted to ask them about the spear, but he let Gromff the Wise do it, if he judged them worthy of his words.
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Catcher looks back and forth waiting for a battle that don't seem likely to happen anymore.
When the other party starts to hiss and get angry knows something is afoot, but has no idea what's actually going on.
"Humm, do we really need to go against it?" she asks in common. "The illithid, also known as the 'mind-flayers'. Their most distinctive features are their faces, which resemble octopi, replete with tentacles which they use to latch on to their victims and literally suck the brains out. This horrible race is evil in the extreme, using their innate mental psionic magic to charm, dominate, and enslave those they encounter." she looks at the party and deep down, she knows she is the most vulnerable one to attacks such as this. Having forgo mental training to dedicate to martial arts, she defense isn't strong as it should be.
Veronica doesn't let her guard down, but she does glance at her companions, especially at Roland.
This... this shall be dangerous in the extreme. Should Roland fall prey to them, then there is little we could do to stop him without great loss... But a creature that enslaves the minds of others... that is an evil on par with the devils...
Looking back at the dark ones, Veronica quietly asks her companions "If this one is such a great enemy, would they be willing to help?"
"We do know where the white beast's slave pit is. Some of our own now fill its ranks of slaves, laboring away for rare ores and gems. The pit is nearly a day's travel from our city, further south through the tunnels."
"Good news ta ye then. We aim ta kill it," Gromff says. He had long since cast aside the doubts he'd been harboring about Walker. The old human was strong of will. He wouldn't cave until an object capable of killing what was inside him appeared. Such as the spear. So they'd keep killing any evil they ran across, big or small, tentacled or not. "And any squid face that gets in the way."
He translates the information to Catcher and Veronica, then adds in Terran. "If you despise them, help us providing more information so we can certainly defeat it. The more you tell us about its attack and weakness, the more certain you will benefit from it."
"Despise them as we do, we are not aware of any particular weaknesses to inform you of."
Looking back at the dark ones, Veronica quietly asks her companions "If this one is such a great enemy, would they be willing to help?"
After a quick translation and conveyance, Fuelyon once again turns to converse with his kin. With little hesitation he replied,
"We would be fools not to take this opportunity to free our kin. We will aid you in battle, if you will have us along."Murk and the other pech guide cheered out loud, excited at the proposition of more allies working to free their kin. They quieted down shortly, turning meekly to the heroes to ensure that their outburst was not premature.
Even Roland was suspicious! I mean, in the party, cause the Pech either trusted this guys, or were too naive to suspect anything. After giving them a bored look, he looked back at the dark folk. Certainly the barbarian did not agree to that, but he was hoping it would not be a problem. But, just but, if they were fooling them, well, that would turn ugly. Still, better to go now than to give them more time to send word, in case they were the evilest side of the evil.
"I hope you brought your things then, because we don't plan on resting."
Gromff caught on quickly and followed suit. "Lead the way." He obviously didn't trust them but they deserved to take advantage of this opportunity to save their own. But it was also best not to give them an opportunity to betray them if they planned on it by leaving quickly. Good test to see how much conviction they had too.
Veronica takes a moment to glance oddly at the briefly celebrating Pech before returning Catcher's questioning glance.
Fuelyon shouted out, "Shii'ai!"
All of the remaining bubbles of darkness vanished, leaving...darkness, though a more natural expression of it.
Walking calmly and confidently out of the passages into this chamber were a total of fifteen dark folk - six from behind, six from the tunnel leading to the abandoned city, and three from up above on the ledge. All were similarly garbed in black leathers and hoods, all sporting short and long blades - all of which they sheathed as they approached this new consortium. After they all emerged it suddenly became nearly impossible to tell them apart.
Fuelyon's voice identified himself as he called in terran,
"Let us be off then."
He barked a few more words in his native tongue, after which a pair of his men reached down and retrieved the magical javelin and sack of coin. The booty was stowed and their group began moving southward into the tunnel that led to their city, eager to move but also to get ahead of the distasteful light that was reconjured for the sake of those in need. Not one of their faces was visible from the seemingly impenetrable blackness within their hooded visages, even when looking in the direction of dancing torch light. The group had little time to ponder this oddity, as the dark folk were soon well on their way and nearly out of the radius of light.
One might imagine that an underground placed labeled a 'city' would be grandiose indeed, and worthy of exploration for the experience of it. After all, how many surface dwellers ever got to visit any sort of underground civilization? Even the goodly dwarves were hotly jealous of their secrets and seldom let outsiders into their sacred undermountain citadels.
Though he was out of sight for many in the group, apparently Fuelyon lingered toward the back of his own group so that communications could be conveyed with greater ease. He sent back word that the troop had entered the cavern of their once-great city, though he failed to name it. He also stated the group would not be crossing the city-proper due to dangerous unknown inhabitants, but that they would instead skirt the city by way of its reservoir that covered the city's eastern flank. Though their was no light to give the impression, there was an intuitive sensation that the chamber was vast. One could almost feel the presence of a city within its confines.
The distant sound of crashing water greeted the group along this path, and after a time Catcher's light fell upon the source of this sound - a waterfall that fed a lake at nearly the same ground level of their course. Even Veronica's superior darkvision was unable to see the top of this cascade, meaning its origins were quite a way up, possibly even from the surface. Catcher's magic lit up hundreds of reflective stalagmites at the waterfall's base and revealed the ripples of flowing water across the lake. The twinkling was a beautiful sight to behold, something that not even these dark folk had ever witnessed, despite this being their home.
A herd of rothe - a sort of underground shaggy livestock creature somewhere between a goat and a cow, standing about the height of a pony - were grazing at the water's edge, gorging on sprawling carpets of mushrooms and furry mosses. The approaching lights seemed to unnerve them, sending them lazily scurrying for a more peaceful patch of grazing away from the scandalous intrusion of surface dwellers.
The trip along the city's edge was brief. The dark folk warriors, the pech pair, and the surface dwelling companions all climbed aboard one of a large number of rowboats that were conveniently nestled against the reservoir's edge. They appeared similar in construction to small boats of the surface world, though the material used was not wood. It was stiff but had a spongy quality to it. The proceeding row took nearly half an hour, indicative of a larger body of water than most had initially guessed.
Parking the boats on the other side, the new troop once again fell in step behind their new allies and guides, leading them out of the city's cavern and back into a more typical, narrow tunnel.
Weirdly enough, Roland felt at peace with their decision. Something in the situation made him relax his suspicious demeanor into one that not only was ready to go with the flow, but somehow trusted the dark folk. Who knew what they had to endure all this years?
They did not seem to be taking the group into a trap, at least. Unless the trap was the monster itself... The folk mentioned they didn't know any particular weakness, but maybe they knew more about these monster that could help them. "How bit is this tentacle beast? And are we certain that the Illithid are going to be in the same place, or that's just a chance? I need to know which one should I aim for." Roland was getting all fired up already. He translates the question and the answer for the girls.
Meanwhile he was enjoying the ride. At least as much as he could see, and it was not much, obviously. He needed to ask his guardian angel for the ability to see in the dark, or maybe to light up the whole battlefield would be enough. In the waterfall he realizes these people did not miss the sun that much, having such a wondrous place in here. "A nice place you have here."
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The mage follows the party after recasting her spell trick to provide light, the dancing lights moving with the party as they walked further down into the deepness. One thing was bothering her tho. They accepted this whole deal very fast, all of the parties, but that was something to discuss later.
As they walk, another thing starts to bother her and Catcher ends up asking for Roland’s help with the matter. ”Can you ask them a few helmets? You know, brain-sucking monsters ahead, I would at least want some sort of protection for theirs and mine. ” she points out to Aersensi and Walker.
Gromff grows tense as more men in black appear around them from behind spheres of blackness. He tries not to show it but now he as doubting their apparent hesitance earlier. Had they attacked, the odds would not have been in their favor. So why did they come down on price so easily? "No match for us eh?" he says, echoing Roland's earlier comment. "Your bluster or did they really seem weak? Cause odds were all for them." But it was too late to go back now. The die was cast.
"Yer city's outskirts is awful big. City proper must be mighty nice. Ye need some lights though. I get ye like the dark but sometimes its nice ta at least see the ceiling. Don't know a creature below that earth that could see very far in here."
"How bit is this tentacle beast? And are we certain that the Illithid are going to be in the same place, or that's just a chance? I need to know which one should I aim for." Roland was getting all fired up already. He translates the question and the answer for the girls.
"The pale tentacled monster is quite large -- even larger than you, strong warrior."
Fuelyon motioned from one wall to another in one of the passageways, showing a distance of about ten feet.
"It is about that long. It has powerful legs that support its rotund body, but its most prominent feature is its head. No eyes to see with, it simply knows about the world around it. Regarding the illithid, we cannot know for certain until we are there. The mind-flayers are few but powerful, acting as lieutenants and slavemasters for the white one. Tactically we will need to plan according to whatever find when we arrive."
Some trepidation crept into his voice during the last sentence, and remained as he continued,
"I regret our first meeting. You are strangers here and we are not used to strangers -- rather, we are used to...dealing with strangers in our own way. I would be lying if I told you there was no fear in my heart. These illithid and the pale one -- they have no honor, no mercy, and will not hesitate to kill or enslave any one of us. Your quest and our goals align, and so it is good that we have joined."
As they walk, another thing starts to bother her and Catcher ends up asking for Roland’s help with the matter. ”Can you ask them a few helmets? You know, brain-sucking monsters ahead, I would at least want some sort of protection for theirs and mine. ” she points out to Aersensi and Walker.
After conveying the question, the dark folk ranger shook his head, silently replying that they had no such protection to offer.
"Yer city's outskirts is awful big. City proper must be mighty nice. Ye need some lights though. I get ye like the dark but sometimes its nice ta at least see the ceiling. Don't know a creature below that earth that could see very far in here."
Though his face was obscured, one could almost picture a smile upon his darkened face as he harrumphed in reply.
"Hmmph, I have never thought of it that way."
Offering no more in reply, he turned back toward their path and toward their next dangerous encounter.
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The traveling continued on for many hours. Just as before the caverns were as diverse as the land on the surface, giving the companions many challenging and difficult zones to traverse. Narrow, irregularly slanting caves, sharp rocks, uneven footing, crevices and crevasses, sheer cliffs and sharp turns, coiling walkways that went up, down, and back around, several more underground rivers, pockets of luminescent forests filled with dozen-foot-tall fungi, skittering sounds of unseen fauna around the bend... the trip was difficult, tiring, and certainly not boring.
Heckles rose at one point when the party was confronted by a pair of giant panther-like cats, each with a pair of fifteen-foot barbed tentacles that protruded from their backs, poised as dangerously as any of their claws. The pair hissed and growled, seemingly ready to fight but in the end made a hasty retreat once the true numbers of the party were revealed.
One couldn't help but wonder what was with the 'tentacles' and underground creatures. Mind-flayers, octopus-panthers, white tentacle monsters?
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The group halted after a long day's travel, ready to rest before the next day's anticipated battle. A suitable large chamber was found, one with only two exits to guard.
Some of the dark folk conjured forth darkness on the chamber floor. They then brought several stalks of something that looked like wood and placed them into a pile, igniting them into an "invisible" blaze hidden beneath the black.
Fuelyon once again addressed the group of surface-dwellers,
"Let us eat together. We have enough rothe meat to go around. A shared meal will bind our fighting spirits. Everyone rest well, for tomorrow we go forth into glorious battle!"
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"I regret our first meeting. You are strangers here and we are not used to strangers -- rather, we are used to...dealing with strangers in our own way."
"Yer black blades been stained red o the blood o innocents right?" Gromff asks directly. "I can guess all I want but unless ye do it in front o me I won't do anythin. Ye do though and, numbers or not, well, I decided to call me mace Mjolvandr. It means Grinder of Evil in dwarven."
"Hmmph, I have never thought of it that way."
"Oh its practical too. Large caverns means lots o darkness ta hide in. Light the whole thing and if there is darkness, something's wrong."
------------------
They couldn't exactly "eat together" in the true sense of the phrase. They divided into two groups as one might expect. But Catcher's light prevented mingling too much but Gromff could navigate the dark and light. At the camp, Gromff ferry's food and drink from the fire to his companions. They required light and the darkfolk despised it enough that they used their natural abilities for hide the fire light. Clever use really. And though they were nice enough to share, he'd never eaten Rothe before, so Gromff casts a spell to make sure it wasn't toxic to them.
Roland is enjoying the ride, wherever it may take them. Now he didn't think worrying about the situation would do them any good. After all, the dark folk didn't show them any sign of being really bad guys. They did not attack at once, but rather negotiate and talked about the problem at hand. The barbarian could not think of any other reaction to a group of well-armed adventurers approaching your city, so they just did what they should. And they've kept to their word, leading them across the city without any trouble, and since the Pech did not say anything about the way, he guessed it was right. So he will try the meat, since he'd never had Rothe before. "Glorious battle shall it be!"
While walking around the City Veronica watches each of the Dark Ones studying their aura for malign traces. Some, she already knew were wicked, but she held out hope that it was not all of them, that some had managed to tend to the inner light in such a dark place.
And while she had asked about working with them she was still concerned about it. But it sounded as if there was an even greater evil afoot. She just hoped that betrayal was not inevitable, even if it was likely. But who knows, maybe their good example could turn some of them towards the Goodly path.
- - - - -
When it is suggested that they eat together Veronica nods with a smile. "Some brotherhood would be welcome." But when they produce meat, the paladin stares at it for a moment, before responding "Thank you, but none for me. However, feel free to partake of my grains."
She withdraws the familiar bags of rice, wheat, and beans, adding them with a bit of conjured water to a pot. She reaches for her campfire bead before realizing that maybe that isn't a good idea. If the Dark Ones were using a special flame, then maybe that would be better to not attract more beasts like the cats they had run into earlier.
"Mayst I cook this over thy flame?"
The cultural barrier was only slightly more challenging than the language barrier, and yet the evening meal was enjoyed by all. Those who understood a common language took it upon themselves to translate when possible, though apparently Fuelyon was the only one of his group to understand the earth-tongue of terran. The dark folk appreciated the paladin's choice to not start another visible fire, and so they were happy to bring her pot to their darkened fire for a time.
After a hearty meal and a few swapped tales, the odd group set watches over the cavern entrances and the camp went to sleep. A deep sleep it was, and the friends awoke refreshed, replenished, and empowered.
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"The next few caverns were the previous pen where the slaves were kept. Do not be surprised if you find discarded tools, detritus, or even the bones of the dead as we pass." explained Fuelyon, early the next morning. He and his scouts had returned soon after breakfast indicating that the current location of the slave operation has been confirmed further down the tunnels.
He went on to explain that their people had almost no information about the inside of these caverns, and so the battlefield would still be a cluster of variables that they couldn't be prepared for, regardless of the slave pen's current position.
"We have at least one thing in our favor - the white beast and the illithid are so profoundly arrogant that they seldom keep a firm watch on duty, and so it is likely that we can attain the initiative."
----------
The camp was broken and packed soon after the discussion. Excitement and trepidation were their newest road companions, and every stony step forward seemed to amplify their presence. The path was notably on a downward tack, sinking the group ever deeper beneath the surface world and into this alien world so different from their own. This path from the campsite was shorter than expected however, and after a mere hour of hiking, a signal requesting silence was sent back from the forward scouts.
Fuelyon whispered in terran to Gromff and Roland,
"Lucky. We found two sentries, and one of them was sleeping. My men dispatched them in a flurry of blades, and we do not believe we have been noticed...yet. Make your friends ready for battle; the time has come."
As word of the coming assault is filtered back, some of the dark folk rangers handed back the weapons used by these sentries, sending them back so that everyone could take a look at the unusual hafted blade.
They were serrated glaives, made of dark iron with a reddish hue in the metal, beaten and chinked from many battles, topped with the orange of dried blood.
The dark folk slipped away into the darkness like shadows in the night, quickly disappearing from sight. Their First Ranger addressed the friends one last time before following his men,
"There is at least one illithid in "our" cave, so we will keep it busy while you assault "your" cave. Let us hope the white beast is away so that your task is simpler. Go with honor, and fight well."
-----------
Moving into position down a curved cave, you hear activity in the area beyond, indicative of the presence of many. Cruel voices are heard barking commands in an unknown tongue while hammers and picks clink away at the walls. Turning the last bend before entering the cavern, a pair of filthy barbarzu guards stand near the cave mouth, though their attention is focused on a small pile of coins and a pair of bone dice game they are engaged in. Not far from these "sentries" are white-eyed slaves going here and there about myriad duties. Some are filling buckets of water from a large keg, others carry baskets filled with an unknown substance, others still chisel at the wall for ore. These slaves are drow elves, dark folk, pech, and possibly others.
When they are told of the upcoming battle, Veronica holds a hand up before they approach the battle. Whispering to her companions "Please, before we being our assault, I would like to say a prayer of each of you. It shall only take a few moments and may shield us from their evil machinations."
She runs her thumb over the sharp tip of her weapon, the blood flowing freely. Stepping up first to Roland, she begins a quiet chant. "Ragathiel, Angel of Vengeance, grant this one strength of mind, that they willst not be swayed from this rightous course, that Brother shall continue to fight side by side with Brother. Ilmater, Broken God, protect them from evil and let no harm come upon them. As they shall be strong in mind, also grant them strength in body."
She she repeats her chant, places her bloodied thumb first upon the forehead, and then upon the backs of each hand. The blood left behind tenses and warms, before drying into the holy symbols of her gods.
She repeats this process next with Catcher, then Gromff, and finally upon herself.
|
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During the walk, she says nothing, and keeps to herself in the camp. She has no idea what the others are talking about, and since Roland isn’t translating anymore, she has no way of knowing what they are discussing.
At some point, she puts Aersensi to sleep, and goes back the study her spells and prepare for the next fight.
Comes the time to break camp, instead of casting her cantrips that provides light, she chants some words casting a spell on herself, Roland and Walker, that will allow them to see in the dark for the next eight hours.
She doesn’t know if the girl can see in the dark, but she couldn’t afford preparing more spells for the kid as well, she comes to the girl and whisper ”We’ll walk with no light from now on, I’ll be carrying you, if you are afraid, just hug me tight. I’m sorry for not being able to cast a spell on you as well.”
--
Before they reach the caves, she cast a spell on her greatsword and asks Gromff for the wand, to bolster her strength for a couple of minutes, not to mention leaving the old man and the girls in some safe-ish place if it, if she finds such place.
|
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"For some reason, I have a bad feeling about this…" she comments when Veronica walks closer, maybe Gromff what been right on the first place, this wasn’t their fight, but since they are here already, it’s time to put things in motion.
Catcher accepts Veronica’s spell and whishes the woman good luck. ”And do not sacrifice yourself for me. What good it does if you get weaker by helping me?”
Gromff is stoic as usual for the rest of the night. He mostly translates but also filters. It was a good thing only Fuelyon could understand Terran. Gromff had to make sure they didn't reveal anything about their mission or the people they walked with. Walker and Aersensi were certainly the odd ones and obviously drew questions. All he said was that Walker was a powerful wizard whose spell went bad to explain his actions and that some people were more powerful then they appeared to explain Aersensi. Beyond that he added little of his own.
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Gromff only nods at the scouting intelligence. They had the element of surprise so no tactical advice was necessary. Gromff prepares in his own way, saving the big spells for later. As Veronica adds her spell he casts his own. As they round the corner, Gromff is surprised to see two bearded devils, completely ignorant of their approach. Arrogance was going to be deadly in this case. Roland had smashed a bearded devil in one blow before so these shouldn't be a problem. He waves at the others to stand back saying, "Wait fer them to attack me. Then ye can move in fer the kill." He then walks forward, adding a blessing to his weapon that causes it to glow yellow. "Yer game got room fer another."