Thunderspire Part Three

Chapter Thirteen: Erevan writes (with illustrations by Kithri):

After a hurried debate we decided that a frontal assault might not be the wisest course of action and looked for alternatives. Keen-eyed Lia pointed out that with our ropes we could cross the chasm to the exposed lookout opposite, thus possibly affording access to the stronghold via a back entrance. A quick look indicated that there were still two hobgoblin archers on the lookout, but they were seemingly unaware of our presence. Stealthily, Lia, Kithri, and Faral crept to the edge of the precipice, and taking what cover they could, loosed off a volley of shots. With a shout of dismay one of the hobgoblins slumped behind the low parapet, while the other shouted an alarm and turned to return fire. Skarp-Hedin and I joined in the fray, and while another hobgoblin joined the first, soon the platform was clear.

While Tha’Maelstra remained at the main entrance, keeping watch for attacks, but mainly creating threatening noises to imply that we were attempting to breach the main door, Lia skilfully threw a grappling-hook and rope over the chasm, hooking the low parapet. Skarp secured the loose end, while Krithri—who we determined had the best climbing skills—tied a rope around her waist and readied herself for the perilous crossing.

There was a heart-stopping moment when she slipped while taking her first step off the cliff, but Skarp took her weight, and dragged her back up to the ledge, and on her second attempt she started moving across the chasm. She was but halfway across the chasm when two hobgoblins appeared on the platform. For a second they stared in confusion at the grappling hook at their feet, then slowly raised their eyes to the unbelievable sight of a halfling determinably creeping towards them, hand over hand, on a rope. At that moment the rest of us opened fire on them and they dropped to whatever cover the parapet could afford, one returning fire while the other, attention focused on the rope, briskly drew a large knife.

In a flash, Kithri completed the distance, and using the springiness of the rope made an acrobatic flip over the heads of the stunned hobgoblins, landing lightly behind them, and in a single move stabbed her dagger into the back of the one with the knife. With a howl of pain he stopped his attempts to cut the rope and turned to face Kithri, who nimbly darted out of reach. The hail of arrows, crossbow bolts, and magic fire from across the chasm soon dispatched the injured hobgoblin, and although another joined the fray, they were no match for our ranged assault, or Kithri’s darting attacks, and with another slain, the remaining hobgoblin fled back the way he had come.

Immediately Kithri untied the rope around her waste and secured it beside the first, at the same time fixing that one more securely, while Faral tied another rope around her own waist, and prepared for the crossing. She crossed without incident and was followed by Lia and then Skarp, when Tha’ shouted to us to say that a force was building at the main door. Ash and I positioned ourselves in readiness, while Tha’ stood his ground.

Skeed was halfway across the chasm when the attack came. Four dwarf fighters and a commanding dwarven smith forced open the door and made for Tha’. As planned, we slowly dropped back, luring the dwarfs into range of the fighters across the chasm. I saw Ash cast his Divine Glow on the dwarfs, the fighters blanching from holy light. As before, two of them turned invisible and continued to attack us, and the smith used some mighty magics to bring down hot iron, and other attacks on us. At last we reached the portcullis and dropped it between us and the dwarfs, and Tha’ held it in place with his foot. He and Ash continued trading blows through the gate while I made myself ready for crossing the chasm.

At that moment there was a shout, and looking up I saw on the closest bridge a dwarven paladin, three fighters, and some strange, demonic looking winged beast.

“Who sent you?” roared the paladin, “Was it the Silvershield petty dwarves or those mewling Breglaskiners?”

“We were sent by no one,” I retorted. “We come merely to rescue a human family taken by force, and will leave when they are restored to us.” Skeed cautioned me against saying more.

“Tell us who sent you,” repeated the paladin, named Murkelmor we later learned, “I must know to whom we should send your shattered bones!”

At that point the demonic beast, a spined devil apparently, leapt from the bridge and flew in ungainly fashion towards us. In spite of Ash’s increasingly impatient urgings from behind me, I was unwilling to move out onto the ropes with stuck a beast in the air—not to mention the armed fighters on the bridge—and I started firing magic missiles at the spined devil. The archers joined in and soon the beast was plummeting to the chasm floor.

“Did you send me the mere scrapings of hell?” shouted Murkelmor in dismay at someone, and summoned two more of the spined devils.

This time however I realised I could not delay any more, as the fighters were struggling to raise the portcullis—despite Tha’s cunning at jamming the mechanism with a javelin—and I moved out onto the rope. Immediately the spined devils swooped, but ranged attacks from both sides of the chasm kept them at bay. In the confusion, we didn’t realise at first that Murkelmor and the others had moved from the bridge. I made the ledge without other incident and threw the rope back to Ash, who started moving across the chasm.

In spite of our best attempts, the two spined devils swooped on him, snapping at his head and feet. We managed to injure one of them, which falling grabbed the rope, blocking Ash’s progress. In its flailing, it nearly dislodged Ash who barely managed to maintain his grip on the rope. Tha’, seeing to the situation moved onto the rope to try and assist Ash, but with the ropes swinging wildly from the struggle—not to mention straining awfully under the combined weight—he was unable to make contact. Eventually Ash was able to score a blow on the spined devil, which let go of the rope, falling screaming into the darkness, and Ash and Tha’ continued their journey. Watching  from the parapet, Lia was following the battle, and carefully targeting the remaining Devil, she shot, wounding it critically, and it fell after its accursed brethren. Ash and Tha’ had barely made the platform when the fighters opposite broke through the portcullis and cut the ropes.

After the excitement of the crossing we took stock of our situation, which frankly, didn’t look any better than our previous one, except that now we didn’t have an escape route!

With barely time to catch our breaths, the orcs regrouped and attacked: two large warriors surged up the stairs towards us. We managed to drop the first with some ease, but the second was in some sort of berserker rage, and with two mighty swings of its sword it nearly brought Faral to her knees, each attack wounding her critically. It took all our concerted effort to stop it. In the end it was Skarp—after healing Faral—who delivered the killing blow, and the beast slumped to the ground.

There were two doors: one behind us lead straight into the cliff wall, the other down a set of exposed stairs and into what we assumed was the keep proper. We had seen that all our assailants had come us the stairs, we decided the unknown door might have been a better option. At that moment a very reluctant hobgoblin—obviously being prodded from behind—peered cautiously around the door at the bottom of the stairs and immediately dropped dead, pierced by many arrows and crossbow bolts.

“They’re still there,” we heard a voice mutter, and then all was quiet.

Now even more eager to get away from our exposed location, Kithri crept forward to see what lay behind the second door. It was a small chapel, dedicated to some infernal god, barely sixty feet long and twenty wide, with demonic statues running its length, and an altar with fire pit at the far end. Unfortunately, there were a set of doors halfway along the room, so our hopes of having only one entrance to guard were dashed. Kithri examined the room for traps and I checked for magic, but we found it was clear. We knew the attack would come soon, but this room seemed to afford a brief respite to allow us to recover and regroup, so we quietly entered and took up defensive positions behind the statues, while Kithri concealed herself behind the main door. Faral meantime, having been on watch at the top of the steps, had time to see a group of five dwarfs charging up the steps, before slipping into the chapel and shutting the door.

We didn’t have long to wait. With a roar, a paladin we recognised as Murkelmor charged the door shouting “Who is it that desecrates the temple of Asmodeus? Prepare to die!”

The door was flung open and four dwarven fighters burst through, urged on by Murkelmor. They didn’t get far: with Kithri and Faral either side of the door the unfortunate dwarf at the front was flanked and taking serious damage, even before Tha’ stepped up to face him. The four dwarfs found themselves surrounded and trapped, but Murkelmor pushed forward to confront Tha’. Then, as we were beginning to expect, two of the dwarfs vanished from sight, if not from the room.

“Ah, a paladin,” Murkelmor scoffed, “At last an adversary worthy of me.” And with that he hewed into Tha’ with awesome vigour.

The ranged fighters saw that the dwarf fighters were engaged with Kithri and Faral, and targeted Murkelmor: I saw Lia draw on all her strength to deliver her Two-Fanged Strike, the arrows biting deeply into the dwarven paladin. At that moment, the side door burst open revealing four mighty orcs and a dwarven smith warrior. That was the signal I was awaiting, for these accursed orcs did not have the fire resistance of the dwarfs, and with a gesture I conjured a glowing ball of fire and directed it towards the first two orcs, who were still grouped in the narrow corridor.

Thus the battle broke into two skirmishes: Kithri, Faral, Ash, and Tha’ concentrating on Murkelmor and the dwarfs, while Lia, Skarp, and I—with occasional help from Skeed—attacked the orcs. The new assailants moved into the room, but in the confusion remained grouped, allowing me to cast scorching burst on them again and again, all the while the fireball remained, a danger to anyone who got too close—as Skarp found to his dismay. Eventually the magic flames took their toll, and one by one the orcs started falling. One started moving towards Lia, who tool some serious wounds until healed by Skarp, but by our combining attacks, Lia, Skeed, and I took the orc down.

At the other end of the room, Tha’ landed a vicious blow on Murkelmor who staggered back and said, “So, I shall need all my powers with this one!” and with that, just as Rundarr had done previously, Murkelmor started growing in size until he was even larger than Tha’. Faral, Ash, and Kithri were busy with the remaining dwarfs, and Skarp was helping me with the orcs, so Tha’ took the brunt of Murkelmor’s fury. I saw Faral attempt her Dire Wolverine strike again, but the dwarfs had seen this move before, and all of them managed—just!—to dodge out of the way of the spinning blades.

At that Faral left the doorway and started attacking Murkelmor, while Kithri finally managed to take down one of the dwarfs. One of the remaining orcs charged me, ramming me painfully into one of the statues, but at that my Fireburst armour took control and my assailant burst into flames, and screaming in pain, he collapsed to the floor. I continued to cast scorching burst on the orcs, occasionally catching Murkelmor in the blast. At last the final remaining orc was felled, and the other dwarven master smith, one Urwol, we later learned, started backing down the corridor. The last remaining dwarf—Lia and Faral sensed that the two invisible dwarfs had fled—ran back the way he came, pursued by Faral who caught him on the stairs, and sliding down the steps impacted him with swords drawn, and he fell dead.

Murkelmor started to retreat with Urwol, but too many wounds had left him weakened and dying, and he realised that he would not survive the battle. “Run, Urwol,” he urged, “regroup and kill these invaders!” and with that he redoubled his attacks on Tha’. While we focused our attentions on Murkelmor, he struck a desperate on Tha’ who collapsed to the floor, unconscious.

“Ha!” gloated Murkelmor, “Now we know who is the strongest!”

His victory was short-lived though: Skarp healed Tha’ who slowly got to his feet, and closed on Murkelmor. Lia expended her bow’s special power, which dealt extra damage, and slowed the giant dwarf, and Skarp dealt a serious blow. At the end, Tha’ dealt his Radiant Smite, which brought the dwarf to his knees, and Tha’, with a mighty swing, severed his head.

“Yes,” he muttered, “see who is stronger…”

We gathered in the chapel, conscious that we had defeated the enemy, but realising that we had significant injuries, no healing, and no way of escape. We had jumped from the proverbial frying pan, into the fire…

The adventure continues...

Thunderspire Part Two

Chapter Twelve: Erevan writes (with illustrations by Kithri):

Sure enough, as we took off in pursuit around the corner, we saw the hobgoblin commander and his fighter sprinting down the dark passageway. At a junction they were joined by the remaining archer, who stood his ground and aimed to fire. He was no match for Faral, who dispatched the hobgoblin with a whirl of blades. The leader and his fighter were fast, but we were faster, and soon we caught the fleeing assailants. Eager to find out why they had ambushed us, we took them prisoner and healed their worst wounds, and when the fighter regained consciousness, we questioned him.

He was disinclined to answer our questions until Kithri intimidated him, yet he could provide little information that we hadn’t already guessed. Then, when we asked who had hired the band, an awful thing happened: the poor wretch started foaming at the mouth and convulsing. He was beyond the reach of all our medicines, and obviously in agony, and Kithri and Tha’ ended the creature’s misery. The others suspected poison, but I realised that this was an enchantment, obviously prepared to prevent the mercenaries from revealing their employer's identity.

When he awoke, we more carefully questioned the band’s leader, keeping away from questions that we thought might endanger him. In the end we could find out no more intelligence other than that a wizard had hired them, and was probably human, and—on pain of death—demanded that the hobgoblin leave the vicinity of Thunderspire, and never return: a demand that we had no doubt would be followed.

Little wiser than when we started, and still with no real plan, we continued through the dark and winding passages at Skeed’s leading, and eventually left the broad, paved corridors for narrow tunnels carved simply out of the rock. At last the path started to run alongside a wide chasm—its bottom was lost in the dark, but by the echoes we surmised it was many fathoms below. Spanning the chasm were three delicate arched bridges joining the bastions of a small fortress, its turrets surmounted by stone horns that disappeared into the gloom above. The path led straight to a large gate room, its entrance protected by a mighty portcullis. As we approached the gate we could see the hideous forms of four large orcs guarding the tower.

Skarp approached and ask to speak with the master of the keep. A grey dwarf appeared and gruffly asked our business. We happened to be carrying a quantity of blacksilver duergar coins that we had taken from the invisible wizard’s lair, and had agreed that we would try and use them as a bargaining chip to enter the keep, and perhaps to find out more about the unknown wizard. Skarp related the tale, and asked if the dwarf could identify the coins. He did so, and agreed that they had come from Thunderspire.

“So,” he smirked, “you have attracted the attention of the wizards. If you leave now, you might just survive.”

We asked other questions and made entreaties, but the dwarf refused to open the portcullis, until—with keen dwarven insight—Skarp said, “Have you not goods inside we could trade for these coins?”

“Oh,” said the dwarf in an altogether different tone, “if you want to trade, then enter!” And the portcullis slowly raised.

We cautiously entered the gate house, a medium-sized room with table and chairs, a fireplace, and only one apparent entrance aside from the main gate—a double door at the back of the room. As well as the four orc warriors, all armed with crossbows, there were three other dwarfs in the room, weapons at the ready and unwelcoming looks on their faces.

We talked for a while about weapons, before getting the conversation around to slaves, in the hope that we might be able to buy Jarod and his family back, the way we had rescued Davan, but it soon became clear that the dwarfs had no intention of letting the slaves free: “Go now,” roared the chief, whose name we learned was Rundarr, “or die!”

That was pretty much what we had expected: during the final stages of the conversation, Faral—like the rest of us—had been manoeuvring herself into position between a dwarf and two of the orcs, and as Rundarr shouted his final threat, became a dynamo of whirling blades, and when she stopped, the orcs looked dumbly at their gaping wounds.

But not for long: in a second the room was full of whizzing projectiles, swinging war hammers, and cries of rage. I saw Tha’ expend much energy in a mighty attack which unfortunately missed its mark. Two of the dwarfs loosed off arrows, and then vanished from sight. In the confusion I leapt onto a chair near the centre of the room, and laid down my shroud of fire. Rundarr cunningly dodged the spell, but all the other enemies—including the two invisible ones—howled in anger as magic flames seared them, although I sensed that the flames did little damage to the dwarfs. Unfortunately, this move put me in the centre of the fighting, as was Skarp who had been leading the negotiations. With no time to react, we both fell under a hail of war hammers, and when I regained consciousness I could see Ash and Tha' desperately reviving Skarp. When the opportunity arose we both moved away from the action, better to let the fighters have room to move.

The battle surged around us, sometimes we gained an advantage, other times we were beaten down. I saw Lia strike Rundarr with an awesome attack of biting cold, while Ash used his Divine Glow prayer, that dealt great damage to Rundarr, at the same time strengthening his allies. Faral used her Thunder Tusk—a truly terrifying attack that sorely wounded our foes, even though it struck but a glancing blow. All the time, Kithri, as is her wont, ducked in and out of the struggling warriors, stabbing and slashing, and then slipping away from reach. At one point I saw her fumbling for her daggers, and then, in a blur, the room was filled with flashing, blinding steel, and many of our foes were blinded and bleeding.

A mighty roar startled us, and suddenly Rundarr's body started swelling as some magical device gave him super size and—possibly—super powers! Our attention was taken by one of the dwarfs who shrilly called “Sound the alarm!” We focused our attacks on him, but could not prevent him from reaching a small gong and striking it. At last the tide turned resolutely in our favour: Faral struck Rundarr—who was now about twice the size of a normal dwarf—with momentary fear by the enchantment of her longsword, and followed it up with a cunning attack that left the dwarf stunned and bleeding, while Lia, bravely standing her ground, fitted two arrows to her bow, and brought down two of the orcs with a single shot.

Suddenly the doors opened and two more dwarfs appeared, joining the fray. I continued to deal fire where I could—concentrating on the orcs as I had determined that the dwarfs had some immunity to flame—as the melee fighters focused on Rundarr. The other two orcs eventually fell, as did one of the invisible archers, when, and then, with a vicious, scything blow, Faral struck off Rundarr's head.

Immediately the remaining dwarfs started calling, “Rundarr has fallen! Retreat!” and running for the doors. We made pursuit and succeeded in killing one of them, but the others turned and forced back our attacks, and then swiftly closed and barred the doors. Relieved at the respite, we examined the bodies for weapons and clues, and then dressed and bound our wounds, ready for the counter-attack that we knew would soon come.

The adventure continues...

Thunderspire Part One

Chapter Eleven: Erevan writes (Illustrations by Kithri)

After a meal and a sleep we hired a wagon and returned to the Abbey to recover the remainder of the books, and whatever else we could find of value, before returning to Fallcrest.

Over lunch at the tavern we were discussing what to do next, when we were surprised by a raven flying into the room and delivering a message to Faral:

Have killed a band of hobgoblin slavers. Escorting their gnome captives to Breglaskin. Slavers travelling from Thunderspire towards Shadowfell Keep.

The message contained no explicit request for help, but we decided that we should investigate, and we resolved to set out at first light. We spent the remainder of the afternoon provisioning and getting whatever information we could about the Thunderspire region. Not much was known about it in this region, but we were told that there was increased goblin activity, and something about a coven of dark wizards, although details were sketchy.

At dawn we set off for Winterhaven, which we reached without adventure. We enquired of the guards and people in the tavern if they had heard of any unusual activities in the area, but no one could provide any additional information. We did overhear that a farmer—one Jarod, who lived with his family on a remote property—had not been seen for several days, and although it might have been nothing, we decided to check on him as we passed the property the following day.

After paying our respects to Lord Padraig, we set off toward Thunderspire. A few miles along the road we passed the turn-off to Farmer Jarod’s and headed towards the farmstead. Our worst fears were realised when we found no one at home and signs of forced entry. The house had been ransacked and a flock of goats were missing, as well as there being no sign of the family. The abductors had tried to obliterate their tracks, but their cunning was no match for Lia’s keen eyes, and soon we were in pursuit.

In the late afternoon the ground started climbing and the forest gave way to low scrub and grasses. On cresting a rocky ridge, we saw a small settlement in the valley below that wasn’t on any of our maps. Apart from a shepherd in the distance, there were no signs of life, and rather than risk panicking the residents into flight, or worst, we sent Faral and Kithri down to the settlement, while the rest of us watched from the cover of the ridge above. They approached the first house to ask for news about Jarrad or goblin activity, but the resident, who would not open the door, but talked to them through a grate, was unwilling to provide any information and told them mind their own business. In the second house the owner refused to even open the door. One thing we learned however, was that this was no settlement of frightened farmers. As the rest of the party joined them, Ash tried a different approach: “A gold coin for the first person to give us the information we need!”

A figure appeared from a nearby house: his greedy looks didn’t inspire a great deal of confidence, but he told us that there had been a lot of goblin activity in the area, and they were selling slaves to the grey dwarves. The hobgoblins were members of the Bloodreavers Clan, and he offered to provide us directions to their headquarters in the Seven Pillar Hall, beyond the labyrinth of Thunderspire, but we knew these men were complicit in the slaving activities, and we—I’m ashamed to admit—intimidated him into leading us to the lair.

We disarmed the man, but promised to return his weapons and reward him fairly on our safe return, and we set off to the Seven Pillar Hall. When he saw that we were not about to harm him, the man relaxed and introduced himself as Skeed.

About sun-down we arrived at the towering gates that led into the labyrinth. Skeed led us in confidently, and we continued down a wide passage lit by magic lanterns which cast an eerie greenish light. We could see side passages now and again, but our path led straight onwards, until we arrived a huge cavern. We could see small buildings scattered throughout the chamber, dwarfed by the seven massive pillars that supported the cavern roof. Skeed told us that this was the political and economic centre of the settlement, although to us it looked a bit of a mess. We told him he was free to go, but he proposed to remain as our guide and contact, on a retainer of one and half gold pieces a day. We agreed, and he led us off to meet with the Bloodreaver Clan.

Skeed led us down a side corridor and around a couple corners, before we came to a heavy door. Inside we could hear gruff voices speaking in Goblin and complaining that they were making a loss on their current raid. Skeed knocked and explained that he had customers. We were ushered inside: a small chamber with scattered tables, and about half a dozen heavily armed hobgoblins. Ready for anything, we resolved to play out the “customer” role for as long as it lasted.

“We need good human slaves for our industries,” said Kithri. “We have heard that you have a family of four.”

“We have only one left,” said a large hobgoblin, evidently the leader of the clan. “A male, good condition. We will sell him for 100 gold.”

“One hundred!” exclaimed Kithri, playing the role of accursed slaver with surprising ease. “That is ridiculous. We will give you twenty-five.”

“But this one is young and strong. Fifty.”

“Thirty.”

“Forty, and we will give you this herd of fine goats.”

Feeling this was as far as she was prepared to push, and hopeful that we would rescue this unfortunate without a fight, she concurred: “Agreed. Let us see the merchandise.”

Two hobgoblins brought in a bound and gagged human, obviously terrified, and roughly pushed him towards us. Kithri paid the gold while Faral and Lia tethered the goats and started leading them out of the room. Ash and Tha’Maelstra were the last to leave the room, alert for treachery, but the hobgoblins seemed delighted to have moved the last of the slaves, and immediately started gathering their possessions.

Still unsure of how far we should trust Skeed, I arranged to quietly move beside the prisoner and whisper, “This is a rescue: you will not come to harm, but you must continue to play along.” The man made it clear he was very uncomfortable, and we moved into a side passage to remove his bonds. As asked him if he was Jarod, but he replied that he was Davan, the farm hand. Jarod and his family, he told us, had been bought by grey dwarfs about two days previously.

Davan was obviously weakened and scared, and we felt that we could not leave him to find his own way home, but neither could we afford to have him with us, in case we ran into trouble—he had no military training, and would be a liability in battle. Skeed overheard our increasingly boisterous arguing and suggested that we hire him to one of the local tavern owners—a solution that we were forced to admit was a very good one.

He chose a small tavern in the main Hall, run by a halfling woman, Erra Halfmoon, who made it very clear that she disapproved of our slave-trading, but after we explained the ruse, she was very happy to take care of Davan, and ensure that he would be given room and board and kept safe. She also happily accepted the goats as a gift. At our request, Skeed agreed to arrange a meeting with the grey dwarfs, and while he was away, we enjoyed a rest and a meal.

After a couple of hours Skeed returned and we set off towards their headquarters in the heart of the mountain. We wound through some winding corridors (glad that Skarp-Hedin was with us to help get us back), and were heading down a wide, straight path, when Kithri and Lia heard goblin voices in the distance. The sound was muffled, and none of us could make out words. Kithri crept forward to a point where two passages led off to the left and right, and listened. Unable to see more than a few metres down the right-hand side passage, she moved across to the one on the left, when there was a sudden twang, and two arrows shot out of the darkness, hitting her in the shoulder.

Immediately goblin voices started shouting down the three passages leading to our position, and from our right we saw two hobgoblin archers; from the left, two warriors; and from the darkness ahead, two more warriors, a fighting wolf, and a tall hobgoblin who was obviously the commander of the patrol.

Skeed slipped back the way we had come, keeping out of the way, while the rest of us moved into action: Ash, Faral, and Tha’ moved up to the intersection of the passageways, while Lia, Skarp, and I made ranged attacks from the rear. It was Kithri who found herself in the thick of the fighting, and it took the concerted efforts of Ash and Skarp to keep her from being overwhelmed by her injuries. Yet the sneaky rogue darted in and out of the legs of her larger opponents, stabbing with her blade, and then ducking out of the way before the hobgoblins could retaliate. Fighting in a narrow passageway hindered our style, but it did give us the opportunity to flank several of our opponents—albeit, in the process, being flanked ourselves.

Eventually our blows started to count, and one by one, the fighters began to fall. At one point Faral found herself surrounded by fighters, and in a blur of blades pulled out her awesome Dire Wolverine Strike, and shortly after I teleported into the action and lay down a Fire Shroud, which brought down fiery anger on all but one of our enemies.

Almost before we could gain our bearings, we heard the commander calling for a retreat. Ash sprinted down the right-hand passage and managed to take down one of the archers, before the other disappeared, and in the main passage, the commander and his one surviving fighter started running back the way they had come. With some well-placed arrows Lia felled the fighter, but the commander disappeared around a corner, and through a small chamber: by the time we arrived there, he had vanished.

At this point, Skeed returned and asked if we needed any help. We were surprised to see that he had managed to re-arm himself.

Pausing for only a few seconds to gather our breaths, we resolved to pursue…

The adventure continues...