#125 - Attrition

The Journal of Wynn Dennavar 

Zarantyr 25th, 999 YK

We dispatched the skeletons and ghouls and piled the corpses in one of the hallways leading out to the gnoll camp. Izzeth laid the remains of Arafin's mate there with her blessing.

I checked in on the activities around Trazzen's lair. We had to destroy the soil from his homeland that allowed him to recover his strength. That I, as a mundane human, could be foiled by the inability to destroy a few cubic feet of earth was frustrating enough. That my magically inclined companions were equally bemused was even worse. As I left, Aleae set to destroying the sarcophogi with her telekinetic magic.

In the chaos following our dispersal when Trazzen fled, Cypher had gone missing. Where could he have wandered to? We were surrounded—undead behind, gnolls ahead, and harpies above. Aleae called Arafin over to inspect a strange circular portal that had appeared in one of the recessed walls on the approach the gnoll camp, inaccessible from our side. Cypher might have passed through it, but we couldn't follow.

The commotion in the gnoll camp was growing louder. In an unlikely alliance, Bale and Clarion agreed to distract their rear guard to support Irakas and the golem. Izzeth and Magnus remained in the Cauldron's chamber to watch the undead and alert us to any ambush from behind.

I kept to the middle in the hallway by the lair, ready to join wherever the fight worsened. In Trazzen's lair, Aleae started flinging acid around. The caustic smell made my eyes water, but appeared to have some effect on the soil.

As the distant barking of the gnolls increased, Arafin warned me about danger coming from the door at the narrow end of the hall. I moved over and listened for whatever her keener ears had caught.

I heard an inhuman voice that I recognized as the leader of the dolgaunts, the one with the beholder's eye fused to his chest. He was calling out for the leader of the harpies. From our brief time in this area and Bale's map, I knew that our rearguard's line of sight to them was broken by the mound of undead, but a banner couldn't have announced our presence more.

I braced against the door just before the dolgaunt slammed into it. The door rattled in the frame. It wasn't going to hold out long. I gestured to Arafin and Aleae that we were about to engage the enemy.

Bale and Clarion continued to harry the gnolls, who had been alerted to our presence at last. The warlock and paladin had found some way to work effectively together, and the audible yelps were full of pain and frustration. I could even hear the barking laughs of their hyena pets!

The door broke off its hinges under the dolgaunt's second charge, and a ray of fire seared it as I stepped back to the entrance of the narrow hallway. I didn't recall this dolgaunt being a caster; he had brought allies. The hall was narrow enough that only the dolgaunt could enter. Immediately his shoulder-tentacles wrapped around me, preventing any further retreat. As long as I continued to block the entrance and give Aleae time to finish her task and retreat, I wasn't intending to move.

Izzeth rejoined us, having heard the door or seen movement through the wall of undead. He cast a spell and grasping vines materialized beneath the dolgaunt and back through the hallway, snaring him and his ally.

The dolgaunt was easy to hit entangled by the vines, but he had healed and rested since our last encounter. He tried to stun me with well-placed blows, barely turned by my damaged armor. If I ever caught up to Garrick and made it out of here my first task would be to have it repaired. Each day down here that possibility seemed to grow more distant.

A ray of frost shone over my shoulder, making the very air around it suddenly cold. It glanced off the horrid, independent eye in the center of the dolgaunt's chest and it rebounded, nearly hitting me. Light cascaded through the doorway as the pile of undead caught fire—that had to be Magnus's doing. The corridor flooded with the unpleasant mix of burning, rotting flesh and plenty of oil. Yes, definitely Magnus.


Izzeth tried to close with the dolgaunt with his purple, byeshk hand-scythe. The dolgaunt's attention was fixed on it with alarm, even as his tentacles dug into my skin and drained my strength.

Tight quarters had been a fine idea when I was stalling for time, but now it was benefiting our enemy. Arafin reached her considerably larger body around me, coiling as if to constrict me, but she dragged me back to break the dolgaunt's grip instead. Once freed, I dove back in and grabbed the creature as it struggled free of the entangling vines. I dragged it out of the hall into the open space where Izzeth sliced into it. I ducked as another ray of frost flew past, but this time struck and froze the dolgaunt's head in ice.

I dropped the corpse and quickly donned my shield—Simel's old shield. This was turning into a battle of attrition, and I needed to outlast rather than outfight.

Izzeth warned me about the creature through the door and around the corner, the floating gauth, but I could hear the heavy footfalls of Clarion close by.

The gnolls still barked, the hyenas laughed their eerie laugh. The undead continued to burn. Irakas and the golem still hadn't arrived and Cypher hadn't returned from whatever demiplane had apparently swallowed him up.

And worse, there were still enemies unaccouted for.