Prologue Part I Part II Part III Part IV
***
"Are you taking us to where this...creature is?" Roman ventured, giving voice to the question on everyone’s mind.
"No," Elster replied. "Not yet. Before we face the beast, I thought we might seek an audience with the Lord of Kiras Toth."
"You mean..." Lorelei began.
"Yes, I'm going to take you to see Giran Oakensheild."
Elster led the group past the guard room protecting the treasure vault. The corridor narrowed suddenly and the adventurers found themselves inching through the claustrophobic gloom, looking out for enemy reinforcements.
"I cling to two faint hopes," Elster continued, his hushed voice still sounding revelatory in the stone corridor. "If Moradin should bless us, Giran has survived this ordeal and the Soul Forge remains intact."
"What’s the Soul Forge?" Roman asked.
Elster smiled wistfully as he peeked around an approaching corner.
"Merely our most inspired creation. Under Moradin’s divine inspiration, Parn Golddelve constructed the finest forge ever built by mortal hands. Not only are the weapons born from its blessing undaunted by the stoutest armor, it also has the capacity to knit together the broken bonds of body and soul."
"Wait a minute," Roman said, holding up a hand in protest. "What exactly are you saying?"
"Simply put, the Soul Forge has the power to bring the dead back to life."
Roman snorted his derision and Pol immediately smacked him in the back of the head. The priest stopped dead in his tracks and rubbed his pate, wearing an expression that communicated more shock than injury.
"What was the hell was that for?" he growled just under his breath.
"Don’t be snide," the warrior chastened him. "You of all people should show a little faith."
After muttering a litany of curses, Roman moved back to the top of the marching order. By the time he got there, Elster was already standing by a door and gesturing for everyone to fall silent. As soon as Roman was confident that everyone was ready to act in tandem, the dwarf threw open the door to reveal a large smithy. Two large anvils sat in the center of the chamber, a huge forge and bellows filled up the northwest corner, and tools, scraps of metal and half-made suits of armor were scattered all over the floor.
Standing near the door at the south side of the smithy were four hobgoblins, arguing about something in their guttural language. As soon as the Fellowship burst through the door, they immediately looked up, drew their weapons and charged. Stunned by this sudden flood of skilled opponents, the hobgoblins were quickly overwhelmed.
"Here, let me go first!" Elster said, maneuvering around Roman.
Just as the priest edged out around the corner, another crossbow bolt, obviously gauged for someone considerably taller, flew just above his head. As a flurry of frantic dwarven bluster and oaths were exchanged, the rest of the Fellowship rushed in to help.
"Wait!" Elster yelled, gesturing for his human allies stay back.
Roman and Pol quickly backed off, but not before noticing the glitter of fleeting armor ten feet down the hall as a door slammed shut. This was followed by the squeal of metal on metal as a door jamb was driven home.
"Hold up back here until I make sure it’s safe!" the dwarven cleric shouted back to his peers.
Elster began shuffling down the corridor, his shield held high, all the while speaking soothing words in his native tongue. The sound of the door bolt re-opening tempted Rincewind and Bria to take a peek, but Roman quickly shot them a dirty look. A second dwarven voice joined the parley and quickly the tones changed from warning and belligerent to penitent and dismissive.
"You can come out now!" Elster called back over his shoulder.
Our heroes rushed out of concealment to see another twitchy-looking dwarf warrior standing by Elster in a doorway at the far end of a corridor, his heavy crossbow resting on his shoulder and pointing up towards the ceiling. As the group closed up ranks, they managed to catch the tail end of the conversation, but Bria was completely distracted by the presence of a large key dangling from a thin chain around the guard’s neck.
"Kadre, my apologies," the dwarven warrior said, still eyeing the humans warily. "The last face that came around that corner was not nearly so friendly."
"Speak nothing of it," Elster replied. "Given everything you’ve been through, you were well within your rights to perforate me. I shouldn’t have barged out without announcing myself first."
Elster introduced the dwarven fighter as Ulfgar, sergeant-at-arms to Giran Oakenshield.
“It’s to his credit that Kiras Toth hasn’t completely foundered under this invasion,” Elster whispered to his peers as Ulfgar turned back towards the door.
“He looks like he’s on the verge of collapse,” Roman observed.
“Likely a symptom of running on stress instead of sleep for the past three days,” Pol replied.
Ulfgar heaved open the stout portal and invited the Fellowship to follow him. The room inside was a sparsely-decorated chamber that appeared to be the living quarters of a single dwarf. There was a table cluttering the middle of the small room, with a heavy crossbow and a case with six bolts sitting on top of it. Two chairs were positioned just askew.
In the southeast corner of the room, a dwarf stood next to a bed, holding a wet cloth to the forehead of its unconscious occupant. Ulfgar quickly led the Fellowship over to this morose scene, his finger still resting on the trigger of his weapon, as if ready to respond to another incursion at a moment’s notice. When the group clustered around the wounded dwarf, Elster stifled a gasp.
"Giran Oakenshield, I presume?" Lorelei muttered.
"Aye," replied Ulfgar. "We were trying to hold back a swarm of goblins when a column of their archers appeared down another corridor. Giran was grazed by one of their arrows and dropped like a stone. We fell back here, to the Forgemaster’s Quarters, since we knew we could bottleneck the entrance."
Elster paused to examine the comatose dwarf.
"He’s barely wounded," the dwarf cleric noted. “Poison?”
The dwarf tending to Giran nodded solemnly.
"Thankfully this room has proven to be quite defensible," Ulfgar sighed, collapsing into one of the chairs. "But we’ve been trapped here ever since you left."
Both Roman and Elster turned their healing arts to the dwarven Lord, but this yielded no perceptible results.
"We need to get him out of here," Roman concluded. "Only a cleric blessed by Pelor’s highest favors can purge this toxin from his body. And trust me, my favors from Pelor a few and far between..."
"What are you proposing?" Elster quizzed.
"We’ll bring him back to Castebridge. The head of my order, Moira, will help him."
Ulfgar sprang up, grabbed the priest by the arm and spun him around.
"You can’t move him in this condition. He’ll die!"
"I don’t think so," Roman replied. "It’s not like he’s bleeding out. Whatever this poison is, it seems to have put him into a state of hibernation. Moving him isn’t all that risky but, if he stays here, you’ll lose him for sure!"
"Yes, but he’ll be vulnerable!" Ulfgar shot back.
"Not while we’re guarding him," Pol suddenly thundered, moving to the forefront.
"Besides, your defenses are shattered," Lorelei piled on. "Do you honestly think you can protect him if another wave of hobgoblins and ogres comes through here?"
Between the titanic fighter’s confidence and the elf’s cold logic, any remaining opposition melted away.
"Alright then," muttered the dwarven fighter. "I’ll let you take him out of here, but before we move him, we need to make sure the fortress is completely secured."
"We’ve very nearly accomplished that,” Elster said. “We just need to deal with whatever is locked up in the barracks.”
"Actually, I think it’s locked up in my chambers," Ulfgar replied. "The last time I walked by, I heard it clawing at the door, so it’s probably only a matter of time before it breaks out and runs amok."
"Um, so, what exactly is this thing that’s all amok-y and such?" Rincewind spoke up.
"It’s called a displacer beast," Ulfgar offered. "Nasty little bugger. Vicious in a fight and virtually impossible to land a strike on."
"Hey, if this thing’s so dangerous maybe we should just leave it locked up?" Bria ventured.
"I won’t take that chance," Ulfgar said, shaking his head. "I don’t want to get halfway to the exit and have that thing pounce on us from behind."
"Alright, alright," Roman shouted. "We’ll take care of it. I’ll need you two to stay here, break down his bed and make some sort of pallet out of it so we can carry him out of here. Come on, let’s get this over with."
"Wait, I have something for you," Ulfgar said.
He took the chain with the key off of his neck and handed it to Roman.
"This key opens the door to the armory. You might be able to use something in there against the beast. At the very least, having access to my quarters from another direction could give you a few more tactical options."
Their determination now re-forged, the Fellowship ventured back out into the main hall and made their way towards their final challenge. After leaving the chamber housing the Soul Forge, they turned a sharp right and Elster led the group forty feet north before veering ninety degrees left into a small alcove. Suddenly the heroes were confronted with the choice of two doors.
"What are our options?" Roman whispered.
"The door on the left here is for the barracks. Just ahead on the right is the door to Ulfgar’s quarters," Elster replied.
"And that’s where there this thing is supposed to be, right?"
A stern nod was all the dwarf could muster. In response, Lorelei crept up to the door and placed her ear to the portal. Roman glared at her as she elbowed past him.
"What are you...?"
The sorceress put a slender finger up to her mouth to silence his protests.
"Just be careful," the cleric added, barely above a whisper.
A tense moment passed as Lorelei strained to hear anything beyond the door. Finally satisfied, she backed off towards her peers.
“There’s definitely something not human in there."
"What does it sound like?" Rincewind asked, his pained facial expression hinting that he didn’t want to hear the answer.
"Honestly, it sounds like...purring," Lorelei replied, looking slightly puzzled.
"Roman, let me go in," Bria suddenly blurted, gesturing towards the door on the right.
"No, absolutely not," the cleric said. "It’s too dangerous."
"No, listen, I’m just going to sneak in and have a look. Just to see what the situation is."
"And what are you going to do when that...thing wakes up and tries to rip your face off?"
Bria snorted her derision and moved past the group.
"Well, I just won’t let that happen," she said, smiling from ear-to-ear.
"Wow, she’s completely insane," Rincewind whispered to Pol, loud enough for everyone to hear.
Bria snuck up to the door, took hold of the handle and gently tried to open it. Try as she might, she couldn’t budge the portal.
"Damn, it’s stuck," she hissed.
Slowly everyone turned to look at Pol. The amazon sighed, shook her head and edged up to the door. Seconds after bracing her ample frame up against the barrier, she managed to open it up a crack. Everyone winced and readied their weapons as a faint scraping sound reverberated around the bare, stony hallway.
"What?" she angrily demanded. "I’d like to see any of you do better."
Bria felt the taste in her mouth suddenly turn sour and metallic. After making a final attempt to rally her courage, she tip-toed into the dark, narrow corridor, the aperture of her hooded lantern muted as dimly as possible.
Twenty feet down the hall, the passageway opened up into a tiny room. Bria quickly took stock of the place, spying a small desk, an overturned chair, a scattering of papers, clothing and personal items, an empty armor / weapon rack and a dwarf-sized bed...with a massive panther curled up on it. To the thief’s horror, the creature cracked open an eye and the two large tentacles attached to its shoulders began to twitch.
The footpad immediately backed off, quickening her pace towards the door, hearing the bed creak as she rounded the bend. Suspecting that she only had seconds to live if she maintained the same pace, Bria made the decision to turn and bolt towards the doorway.
"Guys! The door! Shut the door! NOW!" she screamed as she cleared the threshold.
After bringing the door to, Pol and Roman put all of their weight behind it. Despite their best efforts, the hinges nearly flew off as a powerful force brought up hard against it on the other side. The fighter and priest backed off only when they were convinced that the door would weather the flurry of hissing, banging and scratching coming from the other side.
"Yeah, we aren’t going that way," Bria said, puffing out short breaths, shaking her hands and hopping from one foot to another in an amped-up jig.
Pol assumed a combat stance and drew her sword.
"Open the door, Roman...let’s be done with it!"
"No, wait!" Elster protested. "There’s another way through the barracks!"
The dwarf gestured for his allies to follow him, and they practically fell over each other in their haste to get away from the awful cacophony coming from behind the door. Pol lingered, allowing herself a moment of amusement as Roman tried vainly to drag her away. Chuckling at the futility of his efforts, the warrior slapped the priest across the shoulders and let herself be guided away.
Elster led them back down the corridor to the door they’d passed on the left. Beyond this was a large room lined with a dozen dwarf-sized bunks, all of which in a similar state of destruction. Twelve empty footlockers were also scattered across the floor, their contents torn to shreds. A dead goblin lay near a door to the north, its body scorched and burnt.
The room yielded little of value, and eventually the Fellowship began to coalesce around the northern door to the north, the charred corpse of the goblin deterring even the curious Bria from going any further.
"I believe there’s a flame trap above the door," Elster recalled. "Do you see it?"
"Yep," Bria replied. "Thanks for the head’s up. I can’t say that I’ve ever seen anything like that before, but I should have it deactivated in a moment."
The thief proved true to her word, and soon the door was cast open, revealing a small chamber beyond with racks filled with weapons and dwarf-sized armor. Although many of the items were clearly missing, the room didn’t look ransacked like the rest of the fortress.
The adventures took a quick stock of their surroundings, locating four war axes, two crossbows, two cases of bolts with twenty missiles in total, two suits of mail and two shields, each of the latter bearing the same warhammer-and-anvil insignia as Giran Oakenshield’s signet ring. And while a few of the heroes helped themselves to the crossbow bolts and back-up weapons, the armor was only helpful to Elster.
"There’s no other door in here," Pol observed after the inspection had ended.
"Like the vault, there’s a secret door in here somewhere," Elster replied. "Unfortunately, I don’t know where it is; I have so little cause to come in here."
"I’ll find it!" Lorelei proclaimed brightly, going to work immediately.
Bria pitched in and, within minutes, the secret door to Ulfgar’s quarters was revealed.
"Now what?" Pol inquired.
"Good question," Bria echoed. "It doesn’t matter what direction we approach in, we’ll still have barely any room to maneuver when we fight that thing."
"Right," Roman said. "We need to lure it back into the barracks. Even the corridors outside won’t give us enough space to flank the thing."
"Yeah, well, my luring days are over!" Bria laughed. "I only brought one change of pantaloons!"
"Wait a minute!" Lorelei said, snapping her fingers. "I’ve got a new spell that just might help. Let’s go back out to the barracks."
Once there, the sorceress began chanting in earnest. The group braced themselves for something dramatic, but were soundly disappointed when her verbal stylings ended in dead silence.
"Wow...spectacular," Bria said sarcastically.
Before Lorelei could reply with a healthy dose of vitriol, Rincewind came to the defense of his fellow magic-wielder.
"What’s wrong with you idiots?" he chided. "Can’t you see it? It’s standing over there plain as day!"
"See what?" Pol replied, a hint of irritation in her voice.
"Get him to do something cool, Lor," Rincewind enthused, clapping his hands together like a pleased infant.
Despite being slightly disturbed that Rincewind could actually see her “Unseen Servant”, the mysterious sorceress instructed her creation to pick up a nearby blanket and cloak itself, instantly defining its shape and form.
"What the hell is it?" Roman asked.
"That’s not important," Lorelei replied. "What matters is that it can open the secret door and lure that creature out. As soon as it’s in the room we’ll all jump out and swarm the thing!"
Her peers mulled over the plan and seemed to approve. Soon Roman made it official.
"Okay, it sounds crazy enough to work. Everyone hunker down...let’s go!"
The Fellowship scrambled around the room, trying to find suitable hiding places. After settling in, Elster cast a “Blessing” on his fellow heroes. The mounting tension was relieved somewhat as Pol audibly swore as she struggled to find suitable concealment close to the door.
As the Unseen Servant slowly turned the bolt to open the secret door, everyone felt their innards turn to ice. This feeling only intensified when the sound of grinding stone signaled that the door was slowly being pulled open. Tense moments passed before the group began to hear sniffing, growling and the unmistakable sound of claws scratching on flagstone as their foe padded into the armory.
Now revealed in the half-light, the creature lived up to its fearsome reputation. Resembling a lean but muscular panther, the displacer beast had a sheen of purple-black fur, six powerful legs and a pair of tentacles sprouting from its shoulders which ended in barbed, ridged pads.
More out of shock than careful aim, Bria let a crossbow bolt loose and it completely telegraphed the stealthy target. Throwing caution to the wind, Lorelei stepped up and blasted the creature with a fan of flames from her fingertips. The beast sprang away from the fire as if stung, landing uncomfortably close to Rincewind, who hastily fired off an unerring magical energy bolt from his fingertip, striking the creature flush in its snarling face.
The monster immediately arched its back, spat out a sibilant hiss and then lashed out with its two tentacles, pinning Rincewind’s spindly arms to his torso. Before Pol could slash at these bonds, the tentacles pulled back, spinning Rincewind like a human top as it sawed effortlessly through his cloak and skin. The barbed pads at the end of the tentacles completed the kill, tearing away fabric and flesh in one awful motion.
"Ouch," Rincewind muttered before falling to the floor, dead as a stone.
Next up: With one of their numbers already lost, the Fellowship find themselves in a life-or-death battle that threatens to claim them all!
IMAGE CREDITS
Dwarf Crossbowman: https://dwarffortresswiki.org/index.php/DF2014:Crossbowman
Goblin: https://the-avocado.org/2017/12/03/dd-inaugural-campaign-day-one/
Hobgoblin: https://chroniclesofarn.fandom.com/wiki/Blackspear_Tribe
Displacer Beast: https://forgottenrealms.fandom.com/wiki/Displacer_beast
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