#113 - The Death of Simel

The Journal of Wynn Dennavar 

Zarantyr 24th, 999 YK

The drow remained fixated on Simel even as Izzeth, in his giant constrictor form, coiled around him and his dizzying duplicates. With a spare shield from Hothyr’s chamber to compensate for my damaged breastplate, I contended with the suit of animated armor that had a vortex of swirling wind instead of legs, but the drow’s behavior kept drawing my attention away from its attacks. The dark elf was a spellcaster as well as a warrior, and his tactic was to use both to take instant control and press the advantage of sudden aggression. Engaging him immediately was the only way to break his momentum, but we were more than evenly matched and Simel was already incapacitated.

It was clear the drow considered it more expedient to avoid obstacles instead of defeating them. He vanished from Izzeth’s coils with a quick spell and appeared beside me. He acknowledged my presence only to dismiss me, then spoke aloud "I regret the need, but this must happen." It was unclear if he spoke to me or to Simel, who could surely not hear. Then with his rapier the drow ran Simel through.

When he withdrew the blade, a shadowy image of it remained suspended in Simel’s body, necrotic shadows swirling around it like smoke. A wall of writhing darkness surrounded them both, encapsulating them like a cocoon. It had the consistency of wet earth, and though my weapon could pierce it, I couldn’t make a usable hole.

Then Cypher came charging from the rear, skirted the barrier and leapt at the air elemental with Magnus’s borrowed mace. His brash courage wasn’t enough to balance his lack of experience with such a weapon. The creature retaliated by whipping the spiked chain around with momentum fueled by its own wind. I slammed back into the barrier and regained consciousness moments later in time to see Cypher stow his wand of healing with uncharacteristic violence.

The chaos in the Blue Wraith’s chamber had remained separate from us until magic dragged the animated armor away from Cypher and me and slammed it into the invisible barrier on the far side of the pit. Izzeth and Cypher heeded Aleae’s unsubtle summons and ran to rally with the others to engage the barbed devil, the Blue Wraith, and any of his undead that still lived.

I remained in place, trying to catch my breath, standing but only barely conscious. I was the only one present when the shadow-barrier around Simel and the drow fell away. The dark elf emerged and flung magic toward me, declaring something as he did. I caught only the word "Katashka," for by now I had heard this name a few times already, but could make nothing of it. I attempted to avoid the crackling black energies that the drow flung, but I was not the target—the elemental creature was. I heard it clang against the pinned armor and I caught a glimpse of wispy, ephermal tendrils grasping and pulling the elemental back.

At the drow’s feet lay Simel in his true, changeling form. The necrotic gut wound already looked weeks old. He was unmistakably dead; I have seen it too many times to mistake it. Even after two years of almost-peace, images flooded back to me at the sight of another sprawled corpse in Karrnathi armor, another fallen comrade. Simel’s changeling face made it even easier for the litany of faces to appear and disappear across it, some more familiar and more painful than others.

This time the clash of arms failed to recall me to the present. I felt cold and very alone, the only Karrn in the middle of a battlefield a thousand miles from home. The constant, subtle comfort that a fellow Karrn had vouched for this ragtag group of Aundarians, Brelish, and Outlanders only made itself evident in its absence. The cacophony sounded distant, like someone else’s fight and that I had just wandered into.

The confusion lasted only a moment, but it was enough to fill me with disgust. The loss of Simel shouldn’t affect my opinion of my allies, unlikely though they may be. Their loyalty to each other and even to me speaks for itself, and I shouldn’t need to be standing next to a Karrn to know my obligations to them.

This drow had a lot to answer for—then I would rejoin the main conflict. I demanded the know his purpose here, because he was clearly no ally of the wizard we were battling. He didn’t answer and ran past me with magic-enhanced speed, toward my companions. I swung my weapon, but missed—he was gone.

With his speed and my injuries I would never catch him. Turning around, I saw the corner of the pit clogged with re-corpses of the ghouls and skeletons and every combatant except the enemy wizard. I couldn’t even see the drow among the press, but I wasn’t observing the effects of a surprise attack, either. The wizard they called the Blue Wraith watched the spectacle from the far side of the invisible barrier, arrogance in his posture. He didn’t know I had a way to reach him.

I tossed the useless shield aside and ran toward the pit, taking the stairs down two or three at a time. I readied myself to call on the Fang’s teleportation magic and sent the Host a swift prayer for enough control to make it across. Cold in my grip, I could feel the partisan's power gathering—and as if in response to my newfound strength of will, the Fang brought me in the blink of an eye right to the wizard's unguarded flank. I scored three solid hits on the wizard before he could ready a spell, but knew I couldn’t hold out for another chance. He fled in dismay and, as the others rounded the corner with Magnus at the head, centered a fireball on us.

I awoke to the too-familiar scent of char with some time lost—the barbed devil was now gone (grasped and forcibly discarded by Aleae's telekinetic magic, I would later learn) but something else had emerged from the pit: a mass of stone and charnel corpses that held Izzeth and Aleae clutched in its rocky fists. Both escaped with magic and Clarion engaged it. Whatever he did caused the corpse creature to flee and then, at a flourish of Aleae’s uncanny wand, it vanished into thin air.

When I reached Magnus and Cypher cornering the Blue Wraith, he was wreathed in magical fire. It didn’t appear to harm him, and didn’t protect him from my attack, but on impact the flames raced down the Fang’s white shaft and for the third time in as many minutes, I was unconscious.

#112 - A Worm, a Wraith, and the Promise of Death

From the Annals of the Gateekeper Izzeth, Druid of Dagger Wood

The sound of a hard chitinous plate hitting stone is very distinctive, the sound of eight of them doing it in succession even more so. After the suit of armor reanimated itself and called for help, two giant scorpions emerged from further down the tunnel. Perhaps the wounds of my past were not as healed as I thought, for the sight of these beasts shook me to my core. In a glance, I was transported forty years into the past. In the Obsidian City, the place of my birth, these beasts would have been revered—if not worshiped as the Vulkoori do. Still, they represent strength and power. To me, they represent a lifetime of abuse. As a half-breed in a city where worth is measured in bloodlines, I wasn't even a second-class citizen. I was tormented relentlessly, only finding respite when I was sent out of the city into the jungles to perform menial chores. I left that place and never thought I'd see these foul things again. How naive.

I know from those times that giant scorpions are incredibly fast, capable of striking with both pincers and their tail in the blink of an eye. The claws are dangerous, capable of trapping a person easily, but the stinger in the tail is the true menace. Within is a wicked poison. In the Obsidian City, the Sulatar would use the poison as an ink to scribe arcane patterns onto their bodies, much the way Magnus has adorned himself with castoff dragon scales. Some of the drow who were most heavily inked in this way were said to have developed immunity against the venom. We were not likely to be so lucky today.

In addition to their speed, scorpions have extremely poor eyesight, but they make up for it by sensing vibrations with their feet, allowing them to "see" quite some distance. It makes it difficult to sneak up on them or catch them by surprise.

The shock of seeing them was so great that I was flustered and could only rely on the spells that I had used thousands of times in the past. I muttered the words and called forth a spark of fire, which grew into a small sphere, which I then hurled at the closest of the scorpions. The next thing I knew, a giant ball of fire had engulfed the two scorpions and burnt the life out of them. It took me a few moments to realize that it was Aleae who had cast fireball and not my flame, that had dispatched them. This reminded me that I had found powerful friends with the potential to overshadow my past.

At that point, an impossibly large worm issued from the left-hand passage—the one that led to Arafin's former lair. The worm was wider than Magnus was tall, at least eight feet in diameter and I could only guess how long it was since much of it was still emitting from the dark tunnel. Its skin had a dusky purple hue to it. On one end was a mouth of extremely sharp teeth, arranged in neat concentric rows. At the other end, I knew we would find a stinger, also capable of injecting a vile poison likely far more dangerous than even scorpion venom.

With my composure regained, I reached up to the unseen moons above and called down their light upon the animate suit of armor. A cool dim light shone down from above, bathing the armor and searing it. At this point, Clarion went forward and grappled with the armor directly. It is still a strange sight to see warforged at work, for their nature is unclear. Still, Clarion's mass was the greater and her purposefully held the animate armor within the burning moonlight even as he struck it with his fists.

Seeing that situation in hand, I then tapped back into the magic of the Dragon Between—Eberron herself—and metamorphosed myself into a giant boa constrictor. While I wouldn't be as large as the purple worm, I would be close, and perhaps I could present myself as a target, sparing my new companions some damage. I also knew that if I could slink my coils around the worm, I would be able to squeeze it tight and make it easier for my companions to strike.

Magnus and Simel were closest to the worm and were able to react first to its emergence. Magnus swung his might bone mace into the worm with a wet, slapping sound, but did not seem to draw its attention. Simel, on the other hand, had. He attempted to pierce its hide with his rapier, but it was a tiny weapon against such a colossal beast. As he raised the weapon to plunge it through its hide, the tip caught the floor and it spilled out of his hand. Clattering to the ground with a resounding ring, the weapon came to rest nearly ten feet from him, directly under the bulk of the worm's body. Wynn reacted with lightning reflexes and charged to within striking distance where she quickly landed three quick strikes with her partisan. Against such a sizeable creature, the reach of her weapon was obviously useful.

Aleae, who had lingered at the back of the group, now found herself quite close to the action. She produced a gaudy wand adorned with gems and filigree work from her pocket, leveled it at the worm, and released unknown magical energies. When one is in combat things happen very quickly. The body responds to this by making time seem to slow down, in this way the balance of nature is maintained. The wand being leveled, the stream of energy pouring forth, and the time before the effect manifested, seemed to last an eternity. When the eternity was over, a blue shimmer formed from the top of the cavern all the way to the floor, completely engulfing the worm. Another eternity elapsed before I realized that the blue shield did not seem to have any effect on the worm.

Aleae is quite confusing. She is capable of wreaking massive devastation on our smallest foes, but when something larger is about, she seems ineffective. I don't know what her plan is, but I think I will speak to her at our next opportunity to make some sense of it all. In the mean time, I'll have to show her how to have an effect on a beast that nearly a hundred feet long.

I slithered into the worm's space, sometimes going over its body, sometimes below. I coiled around it in many places and then when I knew it would be unable to wriggle itself free, I began to squeeze. I could feel its soft insides being compressed. It tried to wriggle, but I was stronger. It was firmly within my grasp. Now it was our turn to strike.

Magnus saw his opportunity and flew into some sort of rage, whirling his bone club as if it weighed no more than a drumstick. He landed several hard blows while I held the creature immobile—each hit from the blade-edge of the mace dislodged purple flesh and jellied gore. Simel loosed four arrows in the nictitation of a membrane, all finding their target. Wynn began to open some deep gashes in the beast with her mighty polearm. Lastly, Aleae, clearly inspired by my action, spoke her magical words and launched a thunderous attack on the worm, which caused it to squeal in pain.

Things were going very well, until the worm's tail pierced clean through my snake body. The pain was astounding but brief. Had it not been for my training, I certainly would not have been able to maintain my concentration on the moonbeam that was still seeping the unlife out of the suit of armor.
The venom injected into my assumed form defeated it, and I found myself forced back into my natural body and fell to the floor. The worm then reared itself to nearly its full height and slammed down on Magnus, who seem for a moment to be swallowed whole. When the worm pulled back to consume its prize, we saw Magnus rising up again on the far side. He must have rolled free just before the maw could close around him. Instead, it got a mouthful of broken rock.

Arafin called forth some magical flame to scorch the worm, while I transformed back into the snake. I tried to get around the worm again, but it was more savvy to my intention and deftly repositioned itself just before I could cinch my hold down. Magnus, Simel and Wynn continued to pepper the worm with their blows, causing considerable damage. Clearly the beast was hurt, but in its mindless pursuit of a meal, it fought fearlessly on.

Aleae began to speak and before she was finished, I knew that she was calling forth another fireball. Her ways are starting to become familiar. The fireball exploded around the worm high in the tunnel, plunging nearly one third of it into flame and eliciting another monstrous shriek. Hopefully all those close enough to hear would be encouraged to run the opposite direction, rather than see what the commotion was. We were not subtle in our advance of these tunnels.

The worm struck out at Aleae with its tail, but Aleae was able to dodge out of the way. The other end of the worm reared and launched itself at Wynn, who was able to flatten herself to the ground and roll to safety just before the teeth could envelop her. The worm and I continued our wrestling match, but clearly I was in a different weight class, being nearly half its size.

For all of our efforts, the worm was clearly slowing down. It was oozing from many wounds, some arrow holes, some slashes from Wynn's partisan. It was burnt, cracked, crushed, squeezed, and if it had legs, it surely would have walked with a limp. Like most things in life, its end wasn't remarkable.
Magnus smashed it in several places with his mace as Simel sunk another arrow into it just behind its head. Wynn swung her partisan and on the second strike, the thing fell to the ground.

With only the suit of armor left, I slithered over and coiled myself around it, then squeezed my body tight, taking over for Clarion. I could feel the metal bending beneath my grasp like a cheap metal gauntlet under the weight of a boulder. Simel ran over and as he did, his bow transformed. The bowstring unhooked and the two ends twisted and wrapped around to become a staff, which he brought down upon the suit's helmet, denting it mightily. The armor lost its animating power and it collapses to the ground, inert.

How most people
(including Magnus)
picture Magnus's end.

With the immediate threat dispatched, we knew that we had to move on quickly. The noise of the fight would certainly attract other denizens of this place to us. Arafin insisted we continue in the same direction, toward the "upper halls" of Glyphstone Keep. She wanted nothing to do with her former lair. If a purple worm had taken up residence, it could not be a pleasant place.

We continued down the tunnel and after some time came to a fifty-foot stretch of passageway that was covered in a black tar like substance with a noxious aroma. After some debate, we decided that it was likely there to prevent the purple worms (and other sundry beasties) from venturing past it. While we discussed how best to cross it, Magnus simply strode through it. This was the Seren way, evidently, direct and without discourse. We saw that while some of the tar now clinged to his boots and lower legs, he simply burned it with fire. He must surely be mad. There were ugly blisters marking his skin and he had no concern at all for it.

Aleae was carried across the tar by Clarion. The rest of us attempted to get as little tar as possible on us as we crossed. Just after the tarry area, we began to notice torchlight streaming from ahead of us. We were clearly coming to more inhabited areas of the tunnels.

As we rounded a corner, we came to fairly large chamber. In the middle was some sort of pit, the bottom of which could not be seen from our vantage point. The rest of the room was arranged in a U-shape around the pit, with a set of stairs down on one side and a set of stairs up on the opposite side. Directly across from us was an exit tunnel with a set of stairs leading up, but that wasn't the first thing that we noticed about the room.

It wasn't empty.

At the bottom of the U were a throng of skeletons and ghouls, crouched and waiting. While the skeletons stood utterly still, the gray-skinned ghouls loped like starving dogs awaiting for their masters' permission to attack. Just up from them near the stairs on the far side was a tall creature with a greenish hide and a diabolical appearance. It had a long spiked tail, horns, and innumerable spines jutting from its pebbled skin. Beyond the devil was what appeared to be a small air elemental clad in humanoid armor and wielding a spiked chain. Behind it was a man enshrouded in vesture of the finest quality. At this belt was a well-wrought dagger.

The others seemed to recognize this stranger and referred to him as the "Blue Wraith." He called out to Magnus and Magnus responded in kind. The conversation was not nuanced, he was going to bring a few of us up to "speak with" Trazzen, but the rest of us would be put to death. Magnus insisted that it was the Wraith who would not survive this encounter.

It was a tense moment. We were severely out numbered and by the looks of things, this Wraith was likely to be a wizard of some power. I would have preferred to have been fully rested, because the spells that I had prepared were more suited to battling Hothyr. At least we had Cypher and his metallic companion to guard our rear and make sure that nothing would come from behind us.

Magnus, growing tired of speaking, indicated that Simel should attack. Simel conceded and loosed an arrow at the Blue Wraith, but before it could find its target, it shattered in mid air just over the far side of the pit. An invisible barrier! Magnus tried another angle with his own bow, and Simel also tried to find the target, but all of the arrows merely burst as though they had been flung at a stone wall.

Wynn, seeing the futility of attacking the Blue Wraith directly, flung one of the two remaining beads from Hothyr's bracelet at the undead horde. The bead landed in the center of their number and burst into an enormous fireball. One of the skeletons was blasted into bone fragments, but the others all survived, although they did not look like they would do so for long.

Clarion rushed forward and prayed to his god for protection as the horde surged around him, attempting to scrape, claw, and bite his not-quite-natural body. Clarion's protection held and he was unscathed. A few of the ghouls ignored Clarion, instead homing for the appetizing look of Magnus's flesh. Apparently barbequed barbarian was on the menu, as one of their number managed to sink his teeth into Magnus's arm. The barbarian merely shook the ghoul off, dislodging one of its teeth in the process.

The Blue Wraith spoke the words of a spell and the air coagulated into plasma as lightning burst from his hands, first into one of the ghouls, instantly frying it, then forking out into Clarion and finally into Magnus. Clarion began to smoke, cooked by the spell's power, but didn't look seriously damaged. Magnus on the other hand looked to be far worse off.

Aleae recited an arcane incantation and then burst into the room. She motioned in the direction of the Blue Wraith, but nothing seemed to happen. I rushed to Magnus's aid and squeezed the remaining life (if you can call it that) out of the ghoul that had attacked him. Simel felled another ghoul and a skeleton with his bow and Wynn and Clarion took out the remaining two skeletons.

Magnus leaped across the pit diagonally, hoping to avoid hitting the invisible wall, to land at the bottom of the U, directly between the undead horde and the rest of our foes. As he landed he leveled his bow at the Blue Wraith and let loose an arrow, which did not find its target. This wizard is brave beyond all measure, but would benefit from some forethought. Magnus was immediately beset by the spiny devil-thing, which clawed him twice in quick succession and then whipped his tail about to strike Magnus once more.

The Blue Wraith summoned his lightning spell once more, this time arcing it from Magnus into Clarion, Wynn, and finally Aleae. Both Magnus and Clarion immediately fell unconscious, smoke rising frm their bodies. Arafin with her tail slapped Aleae on the back and she seemed to regain much of her vitality. Arafin then said something in the language of the dragons that I could not comprehend, but from its tongue sounded like a command. Aleae then used her magic to lift and move Magnus's body out of the midst of our foes and lay it beside Arafin.

Meanwhile a new commotion began from behind us where we had entered the chamber. As a snake, my vision is not particularly special, but my sense of smell is particularly keen, being enhanced by the sensitivity of my tongue. This new participant in our fight was a full-blooded drow, which I had not seen face to face in many years. I could tell by the smell and taste of it. Perhaps seeing the giant scorpions so recently prepared me for this second dose of nostalgia that I did not want, but this time I was able to keep my senses about me.

The drow was heavily concealed in a cloak, so much so that only a hint of red eyes and a shock of white hair were visible. Nonetheless, there was no doubt as to his heritage. Because he was so covered, I could not tell if he was Sulatar or one of the Vulkoori tribes. In one hand he held a rapier, quite nimbly. In the other he grasped a crystal like a focus for spellcasting. This one was going to be dangerous.

The drow cast a spell directly at Simel, who was pummeled with streams of dark energy that I did not recognize. They seemed to cause him considerable harm, for he was wincing mightily after being struck. I rushed to aid Simel and attempted to coil my body around the drow, but he was quite spry and easily dodged my coils. The armored air elemental joined the fray, attacking Simel from the other side and the drow brought forth the same magic that Hothyr had used, conjuring several identical copies of himself. Such illusions do not fool my snake senses, so I knew precisely where the real drow he was at all times. After Simel managed to puncture his leg, the drow disappeared with another quick spell, making a short hop to the edge of the pit. He once again leveled his dark energies towards Simel after speaking to the changeling. "Please understand, this is not personal," he spoke in the Common tongue. Simel absorbed the energies and collapsed in a heap on the ground.

Memories of Xen'drik

My huge size allowed me to be positioned perfectly to ensnare the drow as he materialized and I was able to completely entwine his body with my own. Then I began to crush him, squeezing the breath from his thin frame. If I can rid Eberron of this one drow, it will have been but a drop in the bucket, but a start nevertheless!

While I was busying myself with this foe from my homeland, Aleae had been busy tossing our enemies into the pit. The devil she flung down with the power of her magic, and I can only assume that she dispatched the final ghoul, since it never climbed back out. While I was busy with the drow, Arafin had revived Magnus—who looked no better, his skin cracked and burned by lightning, but his enthusiasm for the battle had, creepily, not been disturbed by his brush with death. As he advanced to get to the wizard, the spiny devil climbed out from the pit and got in his way.

Once again, I have a bad feeling about this fight. Two of our number are unconscious on the ground and a third is mere moments away from joining them. Our enemies still seem quite fresh, as our efforts have barely scratched them. With a little luck, my companions will make short work of this drow while I have him entangled within my clutches, then we will be able to turn towards the elemental and the wizard known as the Blue Wraith.

We will survive, because we must. The rest of my order must be told about the aberrations here in Glyphstone.

#111 - Weapons, Shields, and Scrying Eyes

From the Analects of Simel, veteran of Karrnath 

Zarantyr 24th, 999 YK

This was no place to rest.I touched the bow we had retrieved from the bottom of the pool and a power seemed almost to call out from it. Magnus looked through the other objects the creature had left behind. Perhaps it was an odd moment to expound on the many advantages of using a bow, but Magnus seemed more receptive than previously to its many charms and it was such a beautiful weapon with its darkwood and deep red dragonshards.

Izzeth himself had claimed—rather, reclaimed—a gleaming sickle with a purplish hue to its blade. It was clearly a weapon intended for druids and he explained in brief that it was one of a set of twelve. Each is named for one of Eberron's moons. The one he carried was the Crescent of Therendor, the Healer's Moon. The material, byeshk, was a rare metal mined in the mountains of the same name and, according to Izzeth, was the perfect blade to use against aberrations. Magnus said he and Cypher had seen a similar weapon before—carried by a former companion—but now it was in the hands of Governor Trazzen, the vampire at the end of this deadly maze.

Despite Izzeth's magics allowing us to navigate the putrid water in this room, our various injuries burned with the unclean contact.  We did not, however, take the moment to rest or fully take stock of what we had found.

Aleae did try to stuff all of the gems we discovered into an improbably small pouch and we moved the other items to the ledge out of reach of the water should it come crashing back down unexpectedly. The druid's control of the water was impressive and he seemed able to keep it at bay as if a giant plow had passed through untilled soil.

Despite the concentration required for this impressive feat, Izzeth demanded we quickly explore below the membrane at the bottom of the pool—the one from which the brain-and-beak tentacled monster had emerged during the battle. He believed there might be a seal below that was weakening and thus allowing aberrations to come through into our world.

During Izzeth's impassioned plea, Arafin quietly watched our deliberations and Clarion seemed lost in one of his deep magical musical meditations. Agreeing, we watched as Izzeth cut the membranous material—which had reformed itself—with his sickle. Then Magnus lowered Izzeth through the membrane by a rope and I followed. Wynn, in turn, lowered me into a darkness relieved only by my magical eyewear.

The well below the membrane was empty of water and as we slowly descended, the well opened out into a larger cave filled with water. The water, though dark, did not appear as corrupted as the water above. Bubbles began to disturb the calm surface below and I signaled to Wynn to stop. Magnus continued to lower Izzeth and I watched the water with an arrow knocked.

A large brain-like shape erupted, dripping, from the waters below us. Apparently a cousin to the beast who emerged earlier and who ruined so many of the arrows I had peppered it with.

Izzeth yelled out that it was another grell and Magnus and Wynn rapidly pulled us up. While I was unable to wield my bow effectively as I twisted dangling from the rope, I quickly passed through the membrane and positioned myself at the lip of the well followed by Izzeth.

The grell rapidly ascended and seemed undeterred by the arrows Magnus and I sank into its spongy but prodigious flesh. Its barbed tentacles began to stab at us repeatedly and one of them pierced my leggings. Apparently having enjoyed the taste of my blood, it rose to eye level and bit me with its beak. Wynn took advantage of its focus on me and slashed and stabbed it repeatedly as Magnus hammered at it.  Fluids, not recognizable as blood, flowed from its wounds. Enraged by the pain of its bite, I drew my rapier and buried it to the hilt in the creature's beaked maw.  Awareness faded from its alien eyes. The creature descended from whence it came carrying with it more of my arrows.

We agreed that we had had enough of a taste of grells and, in an attempt to flood the cavern below, Magnus excised as much of the membrane as he could.  We all retreated to the pathway surrounding the empty pool and Izzeth allowed his concentration to lapse. The waters rushed downward with a roar. The foul liquid obviously began to drain down the well as the waterline subsided, but then stopped at a depth of 5 feet. The membrane must have healed as we had seen it do previously. One of the shields placed against the chamber wall popped aside and more dark liquid poured out through a conduit that had been hidden by the shield. The chamber seemed intent on erasing our activities and the pool slowly filled again.

With our attention drawn to the shields we decided to try to hinder whatever power the chamber held in another way. Izzeth, driven by his hatred for aberrations that seemed the defining trait of his druid's order, seemed especially eager to unmake the devices of the naga we'd slain. According to Arain, all of these nagas would return to life in due time. Why not spoil its lair?

Wynn began to pry the shields from the walls and Clarion handed them to his unseen servant—an invisible and insubstantial entity—to carry. At first Wynn met with success, but then as she gripped a plain unadorned shield, its form flowed to form appendages that bound and pummeled her. Magnus leapt at the shield-thing with his mace and found his mace stuck fast to it. This was undoubtedly a mimic! I joined the fray piercing it with two arrows, but it seemed not to notice. Magnus struggled to pull his mace away and the shield opened a toothy mouth and bit down on Wynn's side.

Not all mimics choose to resemble chests.
Only the meanest ones.

I found myself momentarily blinded as Arafin joined in with a bright bolt of light that irradiated the creature even as Magnus and Wynn struggled to escape it. A chill blast swept by me aimed at the thing, sent by Aleae. Magnus finally tore free and with him no longer blocking my view of it, I sank two arrows into it, finally seeing it show some sign of pain. Again, Arafin blasted it with a white light and it fell from the wall dead, if it was ever alive.

Arafin seemed to have enough of our games and slithered out the passage the way we had come.  She didn't go far, but waited for us with a hint of impatience marring her regal calm.

We followed her back the way we came, through the cage room where up and down were interchangeable.

I couldn't help but notice that Cypher had shown an uncharacteristic disinterest in everything we had found. If we have time, I must try to talk to it. I find these construct beings fascinating. It's almost like they have moods.

Our wounds continued to burn but, other than a strong desire to cleanse ourselves, we noticed no ill effects. It appeared that Clarions' earlier blessing might have minimized the foul fluid's ill effects on us.

Despite Arafin's restlessness and Cypher's apparent frustration at our progress, we took the moment to rest and regather for an hour. I spent the time studying the darkwood bow and came to feel a better understood its magics; Izzeth recognized its make and warned me that using it might release a captive fire elemental held by the bow. Given Magnus's newfound fondness for bows and his ability to handle fire better than I, I offered him the weapon. Two archers wielding magical bows would certainly be more useful than me holding a bow in either hand.

Arafin suddenly drew in a breath and turned her head to focus on a point in space across the room.  The hairs on the nape of my neck stood up and I felt the presence of something watching us.  "Something is here!" I whispered to the others.

Arafin uncoiled and approached the opposite end of the room, muttered a word and an invisible sphere was outlined with faerie fire. She spit a few words at it in Draconic, that seemed a challenge. Possibly a litany of curses.

Magnus followed suit, yelling "We are coming for you and you will die!" He is always very to the point.

From Clarion came "Your rule of this place will come to an end."

I whispered to myself, "Who are they talking to?"

Arafin had the last word and with a surge of magic, she dispelled the unseen sphere. The sense that we were being watched ended, but it was clear we were expected.

Having finished a brief rest, we followed Arafin back the way we had come, revisiting various grisly reminders of our battles. Finally, Arafin took us through the tunnels in which a fork in the tunnel presented two passages. One led to the naga's one-time lair, where she and her mate had once lived before the coming of our enemies. Arafin was deeply disquieted even looking in that direction. She said that her former lair was now a place corrupted and she did not wish to go there again. The other passage led on ostensibly to the upper dungeons of Glyphstone Keep—where we had once been.

However, in that direction we saw scattered pieces of heavy armor simply lying discarded upon the ground.  Experience informed what our more veteran companions saw: We had previously encountered unfriendly animated suits of armor controlled by the Blue Wraith—the criminal I had come here to take down.

The bounty on his head was considerable. Was it worth stumbling into deeper threats and vague prophecies? I do not know. I had at least found competent allies that I can now say I well and fully trust with my life. In a very short time I have fought many battles with them already. I feel as though we have shared an extended campaign during the war. It was a warrior's camaraderie. Perhaps in time I will feel comfortable enough to explain the less savory parts of my life. And clearly they have sins of their own that have led them on these present dangers. I have begun to consider what I will next. When I return to Wroat with the Blue Wraith, or with his head, what then? I am seriously contemplating staying with this group.

In any case, Aleae concentrated and magically carried a piece of the armor—a gauntlet—towards us, confirming her fears as to what it was, and then she sent it drifting away down the leftmost tunnel. Separating pieces of the armor seemed prudent.

Just then, beyond the armor in the right-hand passage I heaard a disquieting chittering noise. Before we could act, the armor pieces scraped and snapped together, less the one hand that Aleae had removed from it.

The guardian suit of armor stood and called out "Intruders!" Very loudly.

The chittering grew louder as two giant scorpions scuttled out of the blackness, speeding towards us past the animated armor. Showing unusual coordination we seemed to focus our attacks on one of the scorpions badly injuring it. Aleae immediately released a fireball upon the scorpions and animate armor. The injured scorpion was burnt to an eight-legged cinder, while the other badly was merely badly scorched. The armor seemed resistant to the spell.

From the left tunnel a faint rustling become a roar and a giant purple worm rushed at us.  It could easily swallow one of us whole.