Hefting his longspear, the kobold jabs again.
Nme’an’s foe takes a bad cut across his chest, and the frenzied retaliation of club, tooth, and claw are harmless against the shield of the knight.
Both troglodytes that Themp can see snap a glance in his direction. Reeling from Themp’s shot, one of the troglodytes move up to engage the grey tiger in an attempt to divert Shark’s attention.
But the companion of the druid ducks or swats away the lizardman’s attacks. Meanwhile, the scrubbed troglodyte’s eyes widen at the magic used on him. He roars with his club held in the air, stepping toward Mot and bringing down the weapon.
The Casns warrior keeps claws and teeth at bay, but is bonked on the head with the club.
Mot roars in anger slashing at the strange amber light in an attempt to disperse it. The newly clean beast strikes him over the head with his club, and Mot's vision goes red. His massive Highlanders lungs fill to bursting and he screams at the Lizard.
Nme'an swings again.
Shark lunges out at the creature…
…and Beorae takes a swing with the flaming sword.
His aim thrown off by the sheer violence of the struggle ahead, Themp decides to move up for a clearer shot. Only then does the smell really hit him.
In an instant, his vision blurs with tears and the thieve flinches in an effort to control his gag reflex.
"Argh! They smell worse than Mot!"
Struggling to walk in a straight line, Themp withdraws from the corpses' general vicinity.
The paladin slashes the lizardman again, and the creature wobbles, staggered by mortal wounds.
Mot finishes off the clean troglodyte with a swift slice. One troglodyte bellows as his fellow warrior falls, but a viscous chomp from Shark cuts the cry short.
Olp turns, and sees Nme’an’s adversary on the brink, and vaults to impale the last standing troglodyte.
But the jab misses as the big lizardman dodges, then turns to flee.
Nme'an lunges for the escaping lizard!
Sharp ears twitch as he hears the sound of retreating feet. Turning on his heel the big warrior pounds the earth furiously in mad pursuit. Within mere seconds he is next to the wounded creature and whipping his heavy blade through the air...
Swift of foot, the highlander keeps the last of the troglodytes from escaping the chopping deep into the scaly midsection. The lizardman falls, dead. In opposite to the direction of his flight, the heroes of Thaleniel can see several troglodyte tracks leading to where they hid in ambush.
Breathing heavily the Highlander lets his sword fall point-first into the soil. His heart stops it's racing and the bright blue eyes become unclouded once more. Head tilted down towards the dug up earth he notices the tracks in soft ground. Eyes turned to slits the big man crouches and begins to follow the tracks. Looking in every direction for more enemies he pads softly through the underbrush.
Beorae also notices the imprints in the dirt. Maintaining the Flame Blade for as long as she can, she helps Mot follow the tracks.
The highlander and the druidess follow the tracks of the savage lizardfolk. Peculiarly, Beorae notices older, different tracks underneath the most recent left by troglodytes. The older footprints appear to belong to smaller lizardly feet, most likely kobold.
After tracking for about thirty minutes they see the mouth of a cave up ahead. The troglodyte stench not far from their senses, the adventurers approach the cave with caution when it is confirmed that the troglodyte tracks originate from there.
Inside the cave, they see three more troglodytes, and a crack shot from Themp brings one down. The other two raise clubs to attack, but the fleet-footed tiger and highlander are on them before they exit the cave. In a matter of moments, the sounds of battle fall quiet.
The observant druidess notices no more kobold tracks within the cave. The hole itself appears to be naturally formed, and the walls are wet with water that trickles down fissures in the ceiling. At the back of the cave is a small pool of murky water, and aside from the seeping walls, appears to have no other source of feeding into it, unless it is from underneath. Near the pool is a clutch of reptilian eggs, four to be exact, each about the size of a man’s head. The cave reeks of troglodyte stench, though it doesn’t turn the stomachs of the Thaleniel heroes as before. The corners of the caves are scattered remains of various creatures. Bones, hides, and simple weapons lay strewn about the rocky floor. In a small nook, a storage of could only be the uncooked meat of many different kinds of animals. Hieroglyphic carvings integrate scratchings of the draconic language, while portraying bizarre images over the walls of the cave. However, it is currently too dark to make out much of the details.
A small ribbon of parchment is discarded among the bones and refuse. At one point, it was tightly rolled up, but has since been unraveled and crumpled somewhat. It reads in tiny, neat script:
Lov nol stum los kendaar pogaas med gein wo rode tum pogaan do hin kendov gein tik vod. Rok los kiibok naal sed vorey, lot kaaz, ahrk vax wah dovah eylok. Waan hi krii niin, mu fen biis hi ko gein ton malur do yuvon. Hef nu, ahrk hef fod hi fid mii niist klov. Waan hi togaat wah lo mii, dovah eylok fen geblaan praan do hi vau. trespassers fen hiiv hi ko son fein sul. Zent diist sovaat wah hiiv hi sed omaar mindin daar funrah ar. ziist sovaat fen kos sent fod gein do hin kendov kelnat klov wah un bromen lingraav angaar.
Comparing the writing to that on Olp’s banner and on the wall, the note appears to be in draconic.
Near the back of the cave beyond the pool, part of the glistening wall looks like it can move. Pressing a naturally-formed ridge of stone looks like it will swing open, to an irregularly shaped hole.
Approaching from the south is a knight much like the ones who rode down many of your warriors one month ago. He is followed by three others, a large cat, and a traitor to dragon kind. If you kill them, we will pay you in one thousand pieces of gold. Half now, and half when you send us their heads. If you attempt to deceive us, the dragon kind will finish the rest of you off. The trespassers will reach you in less than a day. Expect the first payment to reach you three hours after this message arrives. The second payment will be sent when one of your warriors delivers the heads to our northern outpost.
Rummaging through the bones and debris in the cave, Themp spots a tiny piece of parchment, with a very long message in what appears to be draconic.
"Hey, dragonkin, can you read? I've found a message here." he addresses Olp, stretching his hand holding the message towards him.
The small cousin to dragons reads over the note, and shakes his head with a grin.
“Guessed it should have, me. Kobold leader make deal, not harm us for wealth. Keep word and hire animals with sticks of killing me and you.”
He hands the strip of paper up to Nme'an. "Daar fen kos pruzah wah doj peluth, Zu'u fen hiif..."
"This will be good to learn the writing, I will help..."
Beorae picks up a well-worn rock from the floor and the cavern instantly fills with light from the small stone. Reflections from the pool in the center dance on the ceiling and the walls shimmer in the light. She listens while Themp and Olp examine the note, and Beorae quickly finds the hidden doorway. Running her fingers along the seam in the wall, she says, “Mot, there's a door here, can you help me open this?” Even as she asks for help, though, her hand finds the 'button' and she presses it.
Looking over to Beorae at the sound of her voice, Themp can't help but notice the small pool.
"I don't get it. Why such a foul smell if they could clearly wash up there...?"
“Hold on a minute, I'm taking the light in here,” Beorae says. Holding the stone in front of her, the druidess carefully steps into the hidden passage.
Many of the pictures carved into the walls show the lizardmen fighting or hunting many different kinds of creatures, mostly kobolds, flying insectoid creatures with many thin legs, and other smaller humanoid creatures that use spears (but are distinctly different from the kobold depictions). Save for the kobold conflicts, the other skirmishes take place amid large trees and thick underbrush. If the hieroglyphs are any indication, this troglodyte tribe once numbered around thirty to forty, and have since been driven from their warrens. One particular wall bears an image of a single, tall structure standing from the center of a body of water. At the shore of the water, a small hut is dwarfed by an enormous humanoid shape. The draconic word for “death” is written in a circle around the entire scene.
The door swings smoothly open, and as Beorae brings the light with her, she finds the walls are inscribed line after line of the draconic tongue, from ceiling to floor. The short, secret tunnel leads to a small room. The pale light in the druidess’ hands glints back to her when it shines on gold, silver, and copper contained in a chest left open. One troglodyte lays dead near the chest, and in the far corner, a set of troglodyte bones lays against the wall.
But as soon as she enters, a stirring from the dark corner of the secret room surges her senses. Creaking to a standing position, a skeletal frame of troglodyte rises to its full height, the flesh and scales of this creature rotted away long ago. It’s eyes glow an unnatural pale blue light. The bony form wears decoratively embossed leather armor, and a skeletal hand grips a wooden club, while the other carries a wooden shield. A necklace with a stone amulet hangs from the spiny neck. The chain of bones that make it’s tail twitches, and exposed, pointy teeth offer an eerie and malicious grin. The moving skeletal troglodyte speaks!
“Volaan... kent dir…” echoes out from the passage, reaching the ears of Beorae’s friends.
“Intruder… must die…”
Then, quite strangely, the undead troglodyte utters a word Beorae recognizes as it casts a spell! “लाठी…”
The club in his bony claws pulses with magic and he step around the treasure, up to Beorae!
"Uh, guys? Undead in here!" Beorae calls out to the rest of the group. "Shark!"
The undead monster is upon her before she can move, and she quickly punches her hand out, casting a healing spell into the creature.
Olp is helping Nme'an sing the Kobold version of the ABC song when the strange voice turns his head. Beorae's call for help has him say a small, quick prayer for her safety before running in her direction.
Strange sounds come from the cave beyond the pool Themp was talking about right after Beorae disappears into it. In no time, she cries out for help, clearly distressed. As Shark runs past him Themp rushes to the pool, trying to get a better view of the cave.
Keeping his eyes and ears open, he unslings his bow and nocks an arrow.
With a low growl Mot sprints towards the pool and the hidden door beyond. Reaching the edge of the water his powerful legs launch him into the air.
Landing heavily the Highlander moves through the cave until he spots the skeletal warrior, with a flying leap he tries to tackle the undead creature attempting to bring it to the ground.
The dusty bones crackle and sizzle at Beorae’s life-giving touch, but the undead guardian does not yet fall.
The highlander dives to grapple the skeleton, and the hollow blue eyes turn to him and try to knock his arms away with the club. But neither succeed in hurting each other, and the shielded skeleton turns his attention back to the original intruder.
While the wooden cudgel appears to be fire-hardened, the sheer mass behind the blow to the druidess is more than what mundane wood ought to be.
Dropping the lighted stone, Beorae slides behind Mot and steps out of the cavern, still reeling from the blow. “It's a skeleton…” she mutters to Nme'an and Themp while she tries to usher commands to Shark, who is still inside the room.
At first the cat is uncertain about this creature at first, but after an urging from Beorae, Shark unleashes at the reanimated corpse.
Nme'an rushes to face the undead creature. Upon seeing it he calls upon the power to .
Shark's claws drag leave superficial scratches on the hard bones, but nothing more. The skeletal guardian swings at Beorae as she slips away.
At Beorae's warning, Themp can't help but stop in his tracks and ask, completely oblivious to the existence of undead, "So you got scared with some bones lying around? I thought you had seen way worse with us, Red... And why are you so messed up? Did you trip on rocks or something?"
Even with the slight mock in his voice, Themp still approaches her with a helping hand.
Rebuffed in his last attempt, Mot straightens up and attempts to grab the creature again!
Squinting at the creature, Mot realizes he's heard something about skeletons in caves before!
Skeletons occur in caves when someone’s body gets left in a cave. The bones need magic to reanimate. The healing spell of the druidess seem to hurt it due to its unnatural life-force.
The barbarian moves in and wraps his arms around the pale-eyed skeleton. The bony arm raises the club to try to beat its way out of the firm grip.
The hard wooden club whacks the big hairy head of Mot, but the wild man does not let go.
Olp sees how the fight is contained to close-quarters, and with his eyes on the entrance to the cave, he cautiously approaches the nest of eggs. He seems to be watching and waiting, in case this is another ambush.
Shark moves to the opposite side of the creature and takes another swing .
---
Everything hurts as Beorae draws a breath. Amid the sound of combat in the other room and ignoring the rogue's inane commentary, she pulls the wand of healing and casts it upon herself.
Nme'an swings his new mace at the undead creature.
Shark slashes out with a claw. With the skeleton’s defenses confined by the barbarian, the knight bashes in the empty skull. The pale eyes fade, and the bones crumple to pieces in Mot’s hands.
As everyone catches their breath, they hear a crunch by the pool. Beorae and Themp look up to see Olp skewering the troglodyte eggs. He pulls away the spearhead, oozing with soft, greenish-grey flesh, and aims at another. Crunch. Then another...
"Uh, Olp, the heck are you doing?"
Now regaining her wits, Beorae ducks back into the cavern and tries to determine what foul magics brought the skeleton back to life.
Nme'an too examins the remains of the remains.
He then notices Beorae's and Mot's injuries and sets about lessening them. Closing his eyes like he did before he concentrates and says a brief request for healing. The bright gold wind is even more beautiful as it rushes past, shaped as it is by the tight, confined spaces it briefly lights up.
Olp regards Themp coolly. “Killing. What you doing?” Crunch.
Immediately, the druidess’ magical senses buzz with readings. As the detection grows more definitive, it seems that the strongest magic auras emanate from the crumpled bones. However, there also seems to be faint magic in the lines of draconic on the walls as well. Looking over the bones, the ornate leather armor seems to be one source of magic. The necklace with the stone amulet also pulses with power. A single belt pouch gives off an aura, until inspection reveals the true source inside: a pearl. The magic in the bones themselves is fading quickly.
Aside from the armor, the simple club wielded by the undead creature is well-balanced, and the grip fits nicely. Clearly, this weapon was labored over to allow ease of attack. While the heavy wooden shield face is pitted and scarred with use, it was also crafted by one who knew what they were doing. Lid left open, the chest in the middle of the room gleams from the light of the glowing stone, and shimmers back amber when the Nme’an’s prayer of healing washes over his companions. By a brief estimation, this treasure could be worth five hundred gold pieces, give or take a few.
There are many different manifestations of unlife, and a few different ways these foul creatures come to be. This particular skeleton, based on the paladin’s observation, is called a Skeletal Champion by scholars on the subject. They are more dangerous than the widely known zombies because they retain some of the powers the departed possessed in life. Moreover, they also exhibit a minimal amount of intelligence, capable of springing ambushes and in some cases, even leading other less forms of undead. Skeletal Champions cannot be made by perverse scholars or worshippers of foul gods. The soul of the living creature must be especially wicked and cruel, and fiercely determined to continue its wickedness in the land of the living, and the spirit moves the body, even long after death.
Moving over to the little kobold, Themp can't help but try to stop him.
"That's a bit unnecessary, isn't it, dragonkin? It's not like the eggs will do us any harm..."
"C'mon, stop it..." he adds, raising his arm between Olp and the nest.
“Actually, Themp, I think he has the right idea… in some ways he's probably doing the kind thing. If those eggs hatch, who will be around to raise them?”
Olp frowns when Themp gets in his way. He opens his mouth to speak when Beorae has something to add. He scowls further and shakes his head adamantly when she suggests that he was doing a kindness. “Not. Not kind. Troglodytes weak. Not dragonkind strong. Not tall people strong. Weak must die for strong. Is way of things.” His yellow reptilian eyes meet Themp’s, and he grips his spear tighter, intending to destroy the last egg. “Move.”
Beorae readily recognizes the magical pearl, as her mentor used one like it many years ago. Mages who restore their magic by meditation or study could recall a spell already cast that day, when holding the pearl and focusing. The properties of the necklace were familiar to her -the stone, a smoothed chunk of granite bored through for the leather line- toughens a creature’s skin against injury. The embossed leather armor is definitely magical, but its exact properties were unclear to the Sevenstone. In similar ambiguity, the magic in the bones fade completely. Lastly, the walls of this secret room emanate with arcane magical energy, but she cannot identify the type. However, her understanding of applied magics lends her to suspect that the walls are inscribed in a way similar to magic scrolls.
Moving out of the way, Themp nonchalantly says "Ah, so you're afraid they'll be stronger than you, so you crush them while they're definitely weak. I see. Carry on."
Feigning complete disinterest in whether Olp crushes the last egg or not, the thieve shouts towards the secret passage. "Did you guys find anything good? What's taking you so long?"
Beorae describes the two items to the group before holding up the embossed leather. “I'd like to try this out, if nobody minds.”
While the others pull the chest of gold out of the cavern, the druidess tries on the embossed leather armor. When she's done fitting it, she says to Themp, “Hey, spar with me for a second?”
Mot's breathing returns to normal as the others start to examine the spoils of battle. Hearing the crunch-crunch sound coming outside of the hidden room the big man turns to see Themp confronting Olp about the eggs. His clear eyes narrow and his face scrunches as he tries to understand what the issue is. "Trog la dikes?" He looks down at the eggs. "Soome kanda berd?"
Nme'an nods to himself at a job well done then wanders back into the room with the pool. On a whim he kneels down and, firmly gripping the handle of his mace, thrusts it down into the water in an attempt to see how deep it goes.
To see such a small creature get so angry is comical, in its own way. Olp blusters at Themp’s snide remark, and after some hesitation, decisively drives the spearhead into the last egg. “Not,” Olp answers Mot flatly, “Egg of lizard. See? Feather not.” He points at the soft grey flesh oozing from the broken shells. The kobold begins cleaning the spear, and calmly waiting for the others to finish exploring.
Nme’an’s mace does not touch the bottom of the murky pool, though the weapon only dips about a foot or two into the water. Still, the stone floor of the pool must drop steeply indeed…
Themp chuckles slightly as Nme'an drops to his knees and plunges a mace in the pond, but as Beorae walks up to the thieve, clearly intending to swing her scimitar at him, he quickly moves in and tries disarming her, eyes wide in surprise.
"HAVE ALL OF YOU GONE STARKING MAD?!"
"Excuse me?" Nme'an asks, since he did not see Beorae's "attack" and is unsure if he should be offended or if he should be leaping to someone's rescue instead.
"Just trying to figure out what this armor does," Beorae says to Nme'an as she picks up the scimitar. "Here, you spar with me."
Nme'an switches to his longsword for better control of the engagement then nods for Beorae to begin.
With slow, helpful movements he allows his fellow half-elf to take the offensive while blocking and parrying her attacks careful to keep them both safe. On the few times that the Drudiess leaves her self too open he exploits the gap in her defenses giving her armor a firm thump with the flat side of his sword.