#118 - The Aberrations of Glyphstone

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

Our last encounter ended when the gnoll who resisted my holding spell ran off to sound whatever alarm it could. We did not stick around to see who, if anyone, would answer his call amidst the turmoil of the gnoll camp. We hastened to the staircase and ascended without looking back. At the top of the stairs, there wasn't much to see. A crumbling passageway that occasionally afforded glimpses of the chaos below.

We could see that the magic bones that we had given Sarrel to plant were causing quite a distraction. In one corner, there seemed to be a geyser of what smelled vaguely like a rich stout. Further away arose a great pyramid and a battle was taking place at the entrance. On the south end, we gather a treant had been summoned. I wish that I could have had a moment to converse with it—they are qu
ite noble beings, and I wondered whether it would be returned to its real home when the magic was through—but we were focused on the task at hand, ascending one more level to the throne room.

We followed the corridor until a collapsed section of ceiling blocked our way. To our left was a short passage that took a hard turn after a mere twenty feet. Magnus lingered behind as the rest of us continued our hustle. When he returned, he reported a flapping of wings: he may have been spotted by a harpy.

Bale sent his bat familiar to spy and the tiny gossamer-winged dragon went forward invisibly at Aleae's bidding. A few moments later, the bat returned and Bale informed us that there was something up ahead—somethings. I knew immediately from his description that they were aberrations. Dolgaunts and dolgrims, to be exact.

Given our severely weakened state, we decided that our best course of action was to run for the stairs up. As we prepared to move, we heard a sound growing in intensity. At first it was a background din of voices, but as time advanced, the din grew louder and louder. As we rounded the corner, the source of the din became apparent—a gibbering mouther slithering upon the very wall toward us.

I have heard much about them, but this was the first that I have seen in person. They have the appearance of an ooze made of living flesh that has had eyes, mouths, and teeth scattered throughout. They are known to drive their victims mad and to slowly devour every trace, leaving nothing behind. Each mouth has a different voice and each voice lets loose a sound more maddening than the last. There are few who can resist this terrible song. The cacophony is so intense that it warps reality around it, causing the floor and the walls to bend and twist as though they were made of rubber. The one advantage that we have is that they tend to be very slow.

Behind the mouther were several dolgrims. Dolgrims were created during the Age of Monsters when my order fought back the vile hordes of Xoriat. The daelkry lord, Dyrrn the Corruptor, was particularly fond of creating monstrosities using the flesh of his enemies as his clay. Imagine that two goblins were pressed together until they merged into a single body and you will have an idea as to what they look like. They have four arms, but only two legs. They have two mouths, but only two eyes. They have two brains, but they are not particularly intelligent. They are the foot soldiers of our enemies, which means there will be more vile aberrations nearby.

Just before the mouther, there was a section of the wall that had crumbled away and this led to a parallel passage. Clarion raced before the aberration and through this gap. I could not see how far he went at first, but he was followed by Cypher and Rungo. By the time I got through the hole, the mouther had still not come close enough to grasp at us, although the dolgrim behind it had sent a few crossbow bolts our way. Squeezing through the hole, I saw that the entire area beyond was open to the floor below. Much of this level had collapsed, and at the edge of our battlefield the stone floor gave way to the great gnoll encampment below. It was as though we were traversing a balcony, but one hardly intended by Glyphkeep's original occupants.

To my right Clarion and Cypher were wrestling with the dolgrim, attempting to throw it off the edge. To my left, Wynn was engaged with a dolgaunt.

Dolgaunts were also created by Dyrnn, but they were molded from hobgoblins instead of goblins. They were the commanders of the rank and file. They are impossibly thin and have holes where their eyes used to be. Their bodies are covered in tendrils and hairs that allows them to "see" in ways I do not wish to imagine—at least the hypersensitivity of insects is natural. These were anything but. In addition to their razor sharp claws and their pointy teeth, dolgaunts have two long tentacles that begin at the shoulders. They use them to grasp their prey and drink the life out of them.

Aberrations tend to be quite tough, sporting very thick skin and a resistance to normal weapons, but we learned during the Daelkry War that they have a weakness to the rare purple ore that is mined in the area of the Shadow Marches. It is though Eberron herself provided the means to repel our invaders. The Crescent of Therendor is made of that ore, byeshk. Where normal blades find calloused skin, byeshk cleaves as easily as hot knife through butter.

An army is only as good as its general. My target was the dolgaunt, but first I had to limit the influence of the mouther. Its mutterings could bring any semblance of strategy crashing down if we allowed ourselves to listen! I uttered the words and rubbed the moonseed plant seeds against the opalescent feldspar and called down the shimmering light of the moons directly over the mouther. The dolgaunt would have to wait.

Aleae did not understand what the mouther was, but she knew that the moonbeam would hurt it and that we must not let it get close enough to drive us mad. She cast her spell of ice and froze the mouther briefly in place. My moonbeam would make short work of it for sure.

After that, to be honest, much of the battle was a blur.

Wynn, Cypher and Clarion made quick work of the dolgaunt behind me and the dolgrim in front of me by pushing them off the ledge to fall to the level below us. At the same time, two more dolgaunts entered the fray, one with a great wet eye peering from an open chest cavity. One does not have to be a Gatekeeper to know that it was clearly the leader. And given its hideous eye, this one was probably a servant of the daelkyr Belashyrra.

I raced over to Clarion and engaged the dolgaunts, while the others finished off the mouther and the other dolgrim. The dolgaunts tried to fix us in their grasp, but we were able to avoid their tendrils for a time. Nonetheless, eventually my defenses waned and the leader was able to sink his tendrils into my back. I could feel various fluids being sucked out of me—one of the most painful wounds I've ever known, even if not the most serious.

As a half elf, I lacked the strength to break free, but I am not limited to that form. I swung my sickle, cutting deeply into its flesh and then thickened my hide, elongated my snout and plumped up my mass until I took the form of a giant cave bear. This beast had strength enough to break the grasp of the dolgaunt, leader or not.

As my size expanded I became aware of a gauth behind me. Gauths are a lesser variety of beholder, and its presence—alive!—confirmed that Belashyrra's minions weren't all slain when Glyphstone Keep fell.

This battle needed to end quickly.

The dolgaunt began to drain the life from me. I could feel my strength being sapped as I saw his own vitality returning. I needed to break free. Before I had a chance though, Bale unleashed his eldritch energies and blasted the dolgaunt twice in quick succession. The deranged beast was pushed back nearly 20 feet, but it was not enough to disengage his tendrils, which stretches ten feet easily.

Now my situation had become more precarious. It wasn't close enough for me to counterattack, but it could continue to drink my life away. I would have have to waste my efforts breaking free instead of ridding this world of my sworn enemies.

On the other end of the battle, the rest of our party made short work of the mouther, the dolgrim and the remaining dolgaunt. They then focused their attention (but not their eyes) on the gauth.

Beholders were also fashioned by the daelkyr, particularly favored by Belashyrra. Where they were the generals of his armies—foiling the magics of their enemies—their lesser kin were a variety of artillery. While no one understands the life cycle of beholders, they are either long-lived or immortal. This small cousin of the true beholder might have actually fought in the Daelkyr War, or it might be a descendant of one who did.

The gauth emitted several rays from its various stalks, but did not cause any lasting damage until Aleae foolishly stepped out from the corridor and looked directly at it. She is not very strategic for a sorceress, but she certainly is as willful as an elf. When she met the gaze of the gauth's central eye, she seemed to become befuddled, losing the ability to speak coherently and standing mouth agape. The gauth then focused one of its eyes at her and blasted her with a black ray that seemed to suck the very life from her bones, something I was very familiar with at this particularly moment.

Turning back to my immediate problem, I was spared from having to break myself free when Clarion smashed the dolgaunt to the ground and pounded it with his staff.

I squeezed through the passage to the far side and mauled the dolgaunt leader with my very sharp claws and teeth. While dolgaunts do not possess eyes, I thought that I could discern a look of fear on its face as my claws tore long strips of flesh away from its torso. Somehow, it was able to find its footing, and it fled from us along the edge of the crumbling passage.

I will not allow such a monstrosity to endure. Rather than chase it down, I quickly surmised the layout of the area and headed around the other direction, cutting of its escape. I barreled into it with my hulking frame and pushed it off the ledge, but it somehow managed to find a purchase with its withered fingers and lashing tentacles. I swiped at the fingers, breaking off bits of stone and tearing through flesh, and still, the dolgaunt held on.

Even though we were severely depleted, it looked as though we will come away victors from this fray, but I know that things are far more dire than I thought.

My new companions are strong and valiant. Even Bale has acquitted himself admirably in this battle, perhaps he will atone for his heritage after all. And yet, I truly hope that I am not asked to choose between aiding them and informing the Gatekeepers, because in this, I am not free to choose.