Scribblings of a Warforged Scholar On Adventure
Sa-Jira led us on a forced march through the night in order to reach the Droaam city of Graywall without encountering any further resistance. She showed no evidence of tiring but my companions were certainly feeling the effects of lack of rest.
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| When warforged wax philosophical (and Shakesperean). |
While contemplating this point, some of the party members began reacting negatively to a strange scent. I noticed it too, although it's unpleasantness did not hinder me in any way. The smell seemed to come from Magnus, Doongul, and myself and I were able to determine that the mysterious black eggs were the source.
They had completely degraded within our packs, covering several items. Sa-Jira noted the mess and smell with great distress. She called them "blackshells," and it seems they were some sort of alchemical "gnoll trick." The medusa said they would attract ankhegs quickly. Now that they had transformed into a gooey, odorous substance, the large insects would soon be upon us.
"The hills are infested with ankhegs," Sa-Jira said.
Magnus took off his almost-bare pack and sling, which were now ruined, and lofted it as far as he could away from the party. Doongul lost his fuller pack to the same fate. I rid myself of the pouch that held the egg but I was reluctant to give up the valuable Khyber dragonshard that I had procured from the airship back near Darguun. While not everyone in the party was happy with my delay—most notably Sa-Jira—Xoma suggested we might use the acid-slime we took from the gelatinous cube to clean off the egg residue from the dragonshard. I knelt on the ground and carefully applied my vial of cube slime over the Dragonshard. It wasn't enough, so I used Xoma's second vial as well.
But not before an ankheg burst from a fresh hole in the ground! The massive insects spat streams of acid and managed to spray my companions.
While I hastily finished cleaning the dragonshard, the others were able to dispose of the creature. Another ankheg emerged nearby but this time Rendar and Magnus were ready for it. They flanked the hole and set up an ambush. The ankheg emerged from the hole with such force that Rendar was pushed back several feet. He managed to recover, however, and the ambush was successful. Rendar slashed at the ankheg's armored carapace and Magnus landed a crippling blow from the rear. The ankheg was so turned around that Xoma was able to stab it from behind also. I had no trouble felling the beast with a magical bolt loosed from my armbow.
New holes appeared nearby with two more ankhegs. These alchemical blackshells must be potent indeed! Magnus and Doongul started pummeling one of them with mace and thunder. Cyzicus provided the killing blow, shearing its head off with his scimitar. I noted that this was his first successful attack since starting the forced march, perhaps he needed rest more than his pride was willing to admit.
Rendar went to attack the final ankheg but Sa-Jira warded him off; she told him simply to avert his eyes. Thankfully he heeded her advice because no sooner did she turn to the ankheg than it was immobilized by the young medusa's gaze. Once paralyzed, it was a simple matter to dispose of the creature, but I was intrigued to witness another of the medusa's attacks. Sa-Jira unleashed her venomous snakes on the defenseless ankheg, causing significant damage. I would not soon forget that powerful attack from the fledgling medusa.
We marched even faster now, weary of another ankheg attack. There were no more surprises, however, and we reached the gates of Graywall by mid-morning. It was a welcome site to see, if not exactly beautiful. Graywall is a fairly new city built atop ancient Draakani ruins, but the buildings were built by monstrous peoples of Droaam and the aesthetic is entirely alien to that of the Five Nations.
Sa-Jira told us we could come rest at her mother's house in the city. This seemed to me like an intriguing adventure—oh what could be learned by meeting a mature medusa! But I was alone in my interest and it was decided we would head to Calabas, the foreign ghetto of the city where all of the less monstrous races gathered to live. While marching through the winding avenue of city, I caught the words of a passing half-orc, who referred to Calabas as quartering the "runoff from the Five Nations."Calabas is the goblin word for "kennels," as in dog sanctuary, a great irony were you to ask most members of the common races. In my experience as a warforged, xenophobia is a universal truth and therefore Calabas is not ironic at all, just unfortunate.
On the way to the Calabas, I took note of how strange it was to be in a true monster city, to see ogres and gnolls walking amidst houses and buildings. While we didn't run into any trouble on our way through the city—Sa-Jira's presence parted most of the crowds—I did feel like we were being watched, especially me; I didn't see a single warforged in the city. We passed a few minor brawls on our short path to Calabas. The medusa said there is an arena in Graywall and I wondered if Magnus would find himself there at some time during our stay.
We arrived at the gate to Calabas. The gate was open with no one to impede our entrance, but there were several orcs in the livery of House Tharashk standing guard. Rendar d'Tharashk went forward to the guards, boldly displaying his dragonmark. It was an unnecessary maneuver but perhaps he was trying to impress us with the power of his noble birth. Needless to say, the guards acknowledged him immediately, called him "my lord," and answered all of our questions about Calabas. Battling in the tunnels beneath the surface world, it has been easy to forget that my companions come from very different walks of life. Rendar is a dragonmarked heir, and in some places that commands instant respect.
At the center of Callabas was a great square dominated by a mighty statue of a dragonne, symbol of House Tharashk. Notable were the lodging options available to us. While there were some cheaper options, we decided to stay at the Golden Dragon for at least the first night. The Golden Dragon is a well-known chain of inns curated by the dragonmarked halflings of House Ghallanda.Before settling in for the night, however, we decided to go to the Jorasco House of Healing we spotted, to see if anything could be done with our unfortunate friend Halbazar. The Jorasco apprentices at reception did their best to be hospitable but halfway into our description of the events that took Halbazar from us they excused themselves and returned with a true heir of Jorasco named Hahlo.
The aged halfling asked us some more questions and his assistants recorded our story. We tried not to divulge too much but finally felt it necessary to admit that the incident happened in Darguun. The healer wondered why we hadn't sought the help of a larger, better suited enclave in one of the many cities between Graywall and Darguun l but at this point it was made clear to him that we had no further information to help him. He took the hint and suggested that he take Halbazar for 24 hours of close watch and care. In one day he would perhaps know more. Finally rid of the constant burden of our fallen comrade, we headed to the Golden Dragon for some much needed rest.
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