Session 17 - Ighiz!

Day 29

Cullen slowly pushed open the double doors to reveal a large chamber dominated by a strange insect-like statue. A glowing blue crystal set in the statue cast an eerie light that reflected off numerous salt crystals hanging from the ceiling, whilst a low mist drifted over a variety of woven mats and dried grasses covering the floor. On the far side, a carved dragon's head gazed down over an otherworldly metal door covered in strange symbols.

In the corner of the chamber, beside the strange door, stood a robed Troglodyte wielding a crystal-studded club and chanting softly. A Troglodyte Shaman stood beside her holding a spear, two Troglodyte warriors at the ready in front of them.

“Here we go again!” muttered Cullen. Accustomed by now to the familiar stench, he charged forward, shield raised and sword ready.

Ashrem, beside him, began to follow but faltered, the rancid stench overcoming him.

As Cullen reached the Troglodytes, the robed figure raised her hands, the chanting reaching a crescendo. Suddenly rocks and earth from the cavern floor rose up into the air, whirling around faster and faster before hurtling towards the three companions standing at the threshold...battering them, covering them in cuts and bruises, and littering the floor with debris.

Moments later, the Shaman, making a series of arcane gestures, pointed at the floor where the three companions stood, a slippery sheen appearing there.

Ashrem, already distracted by the stench, slipped and fell to his knees. To compound things, both the Troglodyte warriors hurled stinking gas-filled bladders , one of them striking Ashrem and bursting in a cloud of nauseating odour. Vomiting, it was all Ashrem could do to breathe, let alone regain his feet.

Xin, bloodied from the stoning, met spell with spell. Hurling twin bolts of magical energy at the robed Troglodyte, he caused her to momentarily falter in her chanting.

Cullen, taking advantage of the distraction, lunged at the Shaman, drawing blood.

“Bollocks to this!” said Makoa, the stench from the burst gas bladders clawing at his throat. Moving cautiously over the slippery patch, he made his way through the debris and into the chamber. Managing to let loose a bolt, he struck the chanting figure.

Only momentarily distracted, the robed Troglodyte raised her hands again. Another whirlwind of stones and earth smashed into the companions, causing more cuts and bruises, only Cullen once more escaping the battering.

The shaman, muttering under her breath, pointed at the warrior's sword which suddenly slipped from Cullen's grasp, leaving him unarmed.

Ashrem, by this time, had managed to regain his feet. Battered, bruised and sickened by the smell, he nevertheless managed to push his way towards the Troglodytes, bringing his war-hammer down on one of the warriors, killing it instantly.

“Stinking bastards!” he spat.

“About time!” grunted Cullen, swiftly drawing a spare longsword and lunging at the chanting Troglodyte. The robed figure deftly side-stepped the thrust but was unable to avoid the crossbow bolt and twin magical missiles that slammed into her, causing her to falter in her song.

“Focus on the stone-thrower!” gasped Ashrem, swinging his war-hammer. The robed figure side-stepped the blow only to find the edge of Cullen's longsword slashing at her from the other side, the wound causing her to cry out mid-chant.

The Shaman, now that everyone was concentrating on her mistress, took the opportunity to cast another spell. Making an arcane gesture and muttering under her breath, she pointed at Cullen. The burly warrior felt an icy finger of fear reach out and touch him but he set his mind against it, the momentary pang passing.

Xin, from the threshold, cast another pair of magical bolts at the robed Troglodyte , wounding her once more. By this time, the Troglodyte leader was beginning to falter, her chanting becoming broken as her many wounds began to take their toll.

Makoa, seeing this, levelled his crossbow at her and let fly. The bolt flew true, cutting deep. The chanting stopped and she fell to the rock-strewn floor.

The remaining Troglodyte warrior let out a cry of anguish, striking the lanky half-Elf warrior in front of him and adding to his many wounds. At the same time, the Shaman, enraged at the death of her mistress, pointed at the warrior's war-hammer, causing it to slip from his grasp.

Xin, seeing the leader fall, moved cautiously over the slippery stone and into the chamber, to better view the remaining enemy.

“Shit!” muttered Ashrem, quickly reaching behind his back to draw his great-sword. With one fluid motion, he unsheathed the weapon and brought it down on the Shaman, even managing to wound the Troglodyte warrior in the process.

Cullen, too, lunged at the Shaman, his sword leaving at great gash in her side at the same time as a bolt from Makoa's crossbow punched into her. The faltering figure nevertheless managed to raise her hands and, chanting arcane words, pointed her finger at Ashrem.

“Noooo!” hissed the lanky warrior, his face suddenly turning pale, his eyes widening in fear. Turning, he fled towards the door, slipping in the doorway and falling to the ground, struggling to regain his feet and escape the chamber.

The remaining Troglodyte warrior took advantage of the opening to charge Xin but was unable to land a blow.

Cullen, meanwhile, using his shield to stun the Shaman, plunged his sword into her chest, killing her.

Moments later, Makoa raised his crossbow and let fly a bolt, wounding the last remaining Troglodyte. Xin, muttering something under his breath, made a small gesture, pointing at the creature. Suddenly, the Troglodyte looked confused and distracted, enabling Cullen to leap forward and skewer the warrior from behind, dropping him. It was over.

“By the gods!” muttered Cullen, rushing over to his friend and pulling the pale, battered and still gagging half-Elf to his feet, “Are you alright, my old friend?”

Ashrem just nodded as he took a swig from his water-skin, washing his mouth out. “I will be.”

Makoa and Xin, meanwhile, made sure the Troglodytes were dead before searching them for anything of use, finding several things of interest.

“Here!” said Makoa, tossing Cullen a strangely-wrought club. Made of a dense wood, pale blue crystals were embedded in the head. “Might come in handy next time we're up against skeletons!”

After catching their breath, the companions turned their attention to the door below the carved dragon's head. A central face, somehow managing to look at times like that of an old woman and at others insect-like, was surrounded by a wheel of eleven pictograms: a beetle, a rock, a wedge, a hammer, a crying face, a flame, a claw, a door, a metal bar, a figure standing in triumph and, finally, a bottle.

“The head looks like it moves,” said Makoa, running his fingers over the face, “Look. You can see it rotates. Must be a particular combination opens the door. See...the eyes are currently looking between the bottle and the beetle!”

“Very similar to the writing carved into the wall of the other chamber,” said Xin, joining Makoa, “Maybe that chamber can tell us what's beyond the door...and how to open it.”

“I think you're right,” replied Makoa, after studying the door at some length, “I don't really want to have a go at opening it myself without knowing a bit more. If they've gone to all this trouble to lock it, who knows what'll happen if we get the combination wrong!”

Makoa, having convinced the others to leave the door alone for now, suggested it was time to return to the camp. The cleared caves, he suggested, would make an excellent place for the survivors...easily defended and well hidden, with plenty of fresh water from the well above and even fish in the pools to help feed them.

When Xin pointed out that there were those at the camp who may have the knowledge to decipher the carved writings and work out how best to unlock the door, it was decided. So the companions exited the caves, Xin bringing the crystal scorpion with him and letting it free in the woodlands.

“Fresh air!” exclaimed Cullen, taking deep lungfuls of the fragrant forest air, “By the gods, it's good to be outside again. Thought I might never escape the stink!”

“I know what you mean,” said Xin, squinting in the dappled light of a late morning, “It seems like we've been in the caves for days. Was it really only yesterday?”

Picking up a few leaves and branches, Xin carefully placed them just inside the entrance to the caverns to look as if they had blown in naturally. Memorising their positions, he would know if anything had entered the cave.

“Ready?” asked Makoa, impatient to leave, “Then let's go. It'll take a few days to get back and we can do half a day's travel before dusk.”

And so they set off as the midday sun high above them began its descent. By late afternoon, they had made good progress when they suddenly heard barking.

“There!” hissed Makoa, pointing through the undergrowth. In the distance could be seen two shadowy figures, accompanied by a dog.

“There's another!” said Cullen, pointing off to the side. “Ironfang!” he spat and, unslinging his sword and shield, went after the one approaching from the side.

“Shit!” muttered Xin, tired and almost out of spells. He began to back off into the undergrowth as he loaded up his crossbow.

“You're no use to anyone back there!” said Makoa. Crossbow already out, he let loose a bolt but missed. Xin ignored him and readied his own weapon.

Ashrem, pulling out his great-sword, loped off into the undergrowth heading directly for the two hobgoblins.

The dog, growling, raced from his master's side straight towards the lanky half-Elf. At the same time, the bigger of the two hobgoblins pulled out a heavy net and, spinning it above his head, threw it at the approaching warrior, but missed.

The other hobgoblin, meanwhile, hurriedly loosed an arrow from his short-bow at the burly warrior charging him, but Cullen just knocked it aside with his shield as he lunged at the creature with his sword, wounding him. The hobgoblin grunted, pulling out his sword but was unable to get past the warrior's shield as Cullen, raging, stabbed his sword deep into the creature's chest, felling it.

Off to Cullen's left, the dog, snarling and slavering, leapt at Ashrem, trying to tear at his throat but only managing to rip at his arm. The half-Elf shoved the dog away as he tried to swing at the hobgoblin in front of him, but the dog had knocked him off balance. As he swung his sword, it caught on a thick branch, the jolt causing the sword to slip from his fingers and fall to the ground. The big hobgoblin a few paces in front of the half-Elf sneered, spinning his net and throwing it, entangling the lanky warrior in its thick cords.

At the same time, the remaining hobgoblin, finding some cover in the dense undergrowth, turned his attention to the half-Orc. Makoa, too, moved into the cover of some bushes and, for every arrow that flew his way, he sent a bolt hurtling back.

Xin, several paces further back, used his crossbow to send bolts wherever he felt they might best help.

Back in the thick of it, the dog again leapt at the entangled half-Elf, wounding him again. Despite this, the lanky warrior managed to pull out his war-hammer, trying to bludgeon the dog tearing at him, but the thick cords of the net frustrated his efforts.

“Cullen!” called out Makao, from the undergrowth, “Ash is in trouble!”

Cullen, having just finished off the hobgoblin in front of him, swung around to see his friend entangled in a net and set upon by both dog and hobgoblin. Immediately, he made towards the brawny hobgoblin attacking his friend.

“C'mon, you big, ugly bastard,” he shouted, trying to get the creature's attention. “I'll have your fucking head!”

Ash, battered and bleeding, used the distraction to pull out a vial, quickly gulping down its contents.

The hobgoblin, unfazed by Cullen's taunts, turned towards him, swinging another net above his head. Throwing it at the charging warrior, it caught him full on, entangling him, also.

“Think this'll stop me?” raged Cullen. Shuffling towards the brawny hobgoblin, he managed to lunge with his sword, cutting deep into the creature's thigh.

At the same time, the dog turned its attention from the half-Elf to Cullen. Growling it leapt at him, managing to tear at the warrior through the netting. The raging Cullen barely felt it.

Further back, Makoa and the other hobgoblin had been trading arrow for bolt, bolt for arrow. Makoa, letting fly a particularly well-aimed shot, hit the hobgoblin in the neck, causing it to drop its bow as it clutched at the bleeding wound.

Moments later a blast of magical fire came hurtling out of the undergrowth, burning the creature and compounding its woes.

Ashrem, meanwhile, finding himself momentarily ignored, managed to bring his weapon down on the snarling dog as it tried to tear at Cullen. Whimpering, the dog backed away.

The big hobgoblin, drawing a sword, stabbed at the entangled Cullen, wounding him. Cullen,though, seemed oblivious as he strained to get at the hobgoblin.

“This one is for Mallius!” screamed Cullen, as, undeterred by the thick cords entwining him, he lunged again at the hobgoblin, wounding him deeply.

The brawny hobgoblin, hurt and less sure of himself now, whistled at the dog, backing off from the two entangled warriors. The dog at his side, the two headed off into the undergrowth. The remaining hobgoblin, seeing this, joined them, still clutching his throat.

Both Ashrem and Cullen took the opportunity to free themselves of the nets before charging off in pursuit, Ashrem stopping briefly to pick up his great-sword. Makoa and Xin, too, followed the retreating hobgoblins.

The dog, at a command from his master, suddenly turned on the pursuing warriors in an effort to slow then down, but Cullen caught him a serious blow with his sword. Whimpering, it tried to return to its master but Ashrem brought his sword down, killing it before it could.

Catching up to the two remaining hobgoblins, they realised they had no option but to turn and fight. Both of them swinging at the lanky half-Elf, the brawny one managed to bring Ashrem down with a savage blow.

“No!” shouted Cullen, lunging at the big hobgoblin. His sword ripped into the creature's neck, dropping him.

At the same time, Makoa sent another bolt into the remaining hobgoblin's neck, this time ending the duel once and for all.

“Ash!” cried Cullen, dropping to his knees beside his friend. Makoa joined him.

“He'll be okay,” said the half-Orc, after a moment, “Bit sore, maybe.”

“Thanks,” gasped Cullen, relieved, catching his breath. “But what are the bloody Ironfang doing this far east?”

“We need to get back to the camp,” said Xin, frowning...

For a slightly easier read, a PDF of the write-up on Google Drive here.