Well, There's Your Problem Right There

Planetar-wen effortlessly broke down the door he was inspecting with his angelic strength. A corridor stretched northward away from him with side doors on each side. The doors were iron-bound oak with stylized wolf’s heads snarling on metal plates embedded in the wood. Planetar-wen smiled as he pondered the canine images. He ventured down the corridor and checked the first door he encountered. The door’s lock looked to have been recently repaired. He pushed against the door and despite his angelic strength he was unable to force the door open. He frowned. Siegfried, Alec, and Bob were with Violance in the Ethereal Plane. The translucent walls around them dripped ectoplasm as they approximated the forms of the dungeon’s dimensions within the Prime Material. Siegfried ventured towards the sound of the approaching guards, pushing through the rough outlines of the dungeon’s ethereal walls with only the barest effort. He could see the blurred outlines of the figures as they approached, weapons out and ready, from the west. He picked out the most prominent target and lashed out with his ethereal elfbane cutlass, striking his target and launching him backwards 20 feet back up the corridor. As the goons tried to make sense of their leader’s sudden reversal of momentum, he slashed at the throat of a second thug. Siegfried dipped the point of his cutlass into a pool of blood and began painting a threatening message on the hallway wall. Varien stood resolutely in the corridor as the sounds of booted feet echoed off the granite walls, sword at the ready. From around the corner, he heard sudden cries of pain and shouts of alarm, and the clattering of metal on stone. He turned the corner to see a confused group of human thugs. “It would be wise of you to run,” he called out, sword pointed at the wall. “It would be wiser still to explain your presence here, lest I chase you down.” One of the thugs turned to his companions and snarled, “You know what to do!” Varien nodded. “So you’ve made your choice.” He raised his sword and cast steel wind strike , vanishing to strike his targets like the wind. He carved a path of destruction though the squad of goons, appearing again at the far end of the corridor and bashing one to the floor with his shield. Alec and Bob remained on the Ethereal Plane with Violance and Siegfried. The squad of goons scattered in all directions, rushing up various corridors and hallways away from Varien. One of them sparked his blade against the metal plates on the doors as he dashed north and turned the corner out of site. Another fled south, but not before Siegfried stabbed him with his ethereal cutlass. “Ow! What?” he exclaimed. The man bashed his way through a door. Varien regarded the thug on the stone floor before him. “Are you loyal to these friends of yours who just left you to die?” The thug snorted derisively. Getting painfully to his feet, he looked down at the blood running from his wounds and smiled through bloody teeth, raising his blades at Varien as he attacked. His shortsword got past Varien’s defences, nicking an artery and causing a bloody wound on Varien’s leg. “Sacrificing your life for your comrades?” Varien arched an eyebrow. “That’s almost impressive.” The thug spat out a wad of bloody phlegm as he tried to strike again. Varien parried his remaining attacks effortlessly.   From within the Ethereal Plane, Bob looked around at his strange surroundings. He was overcome by a dreadful feeling that he was being watched by something ancient and evil. It was a feeling he’d last had in the ethereal tower in Leilon. “I feel like we’re being watched,” Bob told his friends. “Violance, please return us to the Prime Material,” Siegfried asked his nightmare. Violance snorted and obeyed his command. Siegfried, Bob, and Alec appeared suddenly in the corridor. Siegfried cast hold person on a fleeing thug, but the man withstood the magical snare. Siegfried looked at his outstretched hand. “Huh. That normally works,” he said. He turned to his opponent. “Death will not get you out of this one, young man,” he said. “We will bring you back. My horse will devour your soul, and we will torment you until we get the information we need. That knife in your hand will not be taking any of us down today. You can have a swift death, you can ask for any kindness, but you will be answering our questions.” The thug flinched as Violance loomed over Siegfried’s imposing shoulder, nostrils flaring sulfurous smoke and fiendish flames. “Anything you do to me couldn’t be worse than what Bonesplitter would do to me if I disobeyed orders,” he said shakily. “That’s where you’re wrong,” Siegfried replied. “Bonesplitter will only do it to you once. I walked out of the Hells with my Hell Steed so I want you to know that we will find you and bring you back so we can do it to you again. You will eventually plead for Bonesplitter. You already know the worst of what Bonesplitter will do to you. You would be wise to answer my friend’s questions.” Violance slowly trotted after the fleeing villains. “No, stop, don’t make me chase you,” he said sarcastically. “I’ll never be able to catch up. It’s not like I’m a HORSE OF YOUR NIGHTMARES!” Varien looked down at the injured thug. “I see no honest reason for you to be down here.” The thug smirked, blood running off his chin. “That’s because there is no good, honest reason! What do you think we’re doing down here? Running an orphanage?” “So be it!” Varien said, heedless of his own bleeding wound. “Unfortunately, that’s what I thought.” He sliced a diagonal uppercut across the man’s torso, cleaving him in two. Varien quickened a cure wounds spell to close the heavily bleeding wound on his leg. He cleaned his sword off on the corpse and began walking ominously after the other fleeing thugs. He entered another fortified killbox of a chamber with a door to the east and the south. He checked the eastern door and found that it led to a closet, within which was a heavy wooden beam, the kind that would be used to bar a door. Someone had scratched ‘baby stand’ into the beam with what looked like the tip of a sword. Varien rolled his eyes and continued to walk to the south. Alec chased after one of the fleeing thugs. Ahead of him, the corridor opened into a chamber that looked to have suffered some sort of disaster at some point. The granite of the floor and walls looked to have been churned by some incredible force, and where once was smooth carved rock was now a jumble of jagged crags. “Seeing this gives me an idea!” Alec said as he pointed a finger and cast shatter in the chamber where the thug had disappeared. There was a thundercrack and an explosion of stone flinders as the spell detonated, and Alec was rewarded by a scream of shock and pain from the hidden thug. Alec walked into the chamber as the dust settled and spied the dazed thug whose progress was being slowed by the lumpy landscape of broken stone. The thug shook his head to clear the ringing tinnitus in his ears and lunged at Alec with his weapons. He drove his dagger into Alec’s bulging bicep, but the raging barbarian only smiled. Releasing the dagger, the man cut the barbarian with his short sword, opening a severe wound across his midsection. A third swing slashed at Alec’s arm. The thug bowed sarcastically and then disengaged, moving through the broken rocks to the eastern corridor.   Planetarwen opened his locked door and discovered an empty storeroom. “Disappointed!” the invisible angel roared.   Violance thundered like a lightning rail train and trampled a fleeing thug, grinding him beneath his dark hooves. Siegfried pondered the tactical situation for a moment. The thugs had obviously split up in an effort to draw their pursuers away. It was highly likely however that one of the thugs was making a beeline for his group’s leader, Bonesplitter. “You don’t have enough reinforcements!” Siegfried called out to the retreating thugs. “But when you return with more men to die at our hands, bring Quid along! That elf owes me money!” He thought for a moment. “Actually, bring Quid to me with broken legs and there’s coin in it for you!” Siegfried followed Alec and then misty stepped in front of the fleeing thug. He loomed over the villain. “Did you get all that?” he asked. “Or do you need to write that down?” The thug set his jaw. “Yeah, I heard you.” Siegfried looked the man in the eye. “Is the Ettin Axe already accounted for?” The man looked confused. “The Ettin what?” “A magic axe,” Siegfried said. “It disappeared down here. Find me a buyer and you get a percentage.” Then he stepped aside. The thug tugged his hood. “Fair enough,” he said. Siegfried turned to the Trevelyans. “We can kill the rest. It only takes one man to deliver a message.” The thug shrugged. “You’ll want to talk to Shund, Galgath Shund, if you survive, that is. If it’s magic you’re looking for, talk to Shund.” “Go tell him to prepare the good tea,” Siegfried said, ushering the man aside. “And make sure the reinforcements you bring are worth killing.”   Varien continued to follow the fleeing thug. The man was frantically trying to open a door to the south. Varien cast fire bolt and the blast struck the stone door frame, sending granite chips flying. The paladin continued to walk slowly towards the struggling thug.   Alec pulled the thug’s dagger from his shoulder, looked at it with annoyance, and flung it away. He put his hand on the thug’s shoulder. “Better be quick about it,” he snarled. “Before I remember that it was you who stabbed me.” The thug smiled weakly. He took off heading east.   Elsewhere in the dungeon, Violance bit down on the thug as he tried to get out of his way, killing him.   Alec’s eyes widened as he saw the retreating thug suddenly disappear from the corridor. The barbarian cursed and followed.   Planetar-wen tried the second door in the corridor. It too appeared to be locked, and also trapped. “I’ve seen Varien do this before,” the angel said to himself. Planetar-wen swung his sword through the lock. The wolf heads on the door suddenly all spit darts at the angel. “Darn!” Planetar-wen said. The door teetered and fell apart in two pieces. Planetar-wen peered into the chamber and saw row upon row of fired clay amphorae stacked on the floor. Each of the pots had a maker’s mark etched on it and was stoppered with a resinous seal. “Someone’s stash?” Planetar-wen mused, counting more than 30 of them. The shapechanged druid shrugged and started smashing the pots. “Is the axe in here?” In here? In here?” he said as he shattered amphora after amphora, spilling a series of odorous oils onto the floor, making a slick mess on the granite. The overlapping smells gave the druid a headache, but Planetar-wen could make out the scent of osssra oil, a type of oil used by yuan-ti for a wide range of medicinal and recreational activities. When burned in a ceremonial brazier, such oils were often used by yuan-ti prophets and diviners to spark magical visions, but when inhaled by other humanoids, was usually fatal. “Snake oil,” Planetar-wen said to himself. He looked around. “Nobody’s here to hear my puns.” He shrugged and continued to break amphorae left, right and centre.

Violance chased after the next thug. He crept up behind the man and whispered, “where are we going?” Then he stomped down on the thug, knocking him prone and dragged him back, leg clamped in his mouth, towards Varien.   Siegfried moved into the corridor and took note of the magically-obscured secret passageway to the north where the thug had vanished through. “When you return with reinforcements, can you bring me a pulled pork sandwich with applesauce and gravy?” he called out. He looked over his shoulder at Bob and Alec. “You guys want anything?” He ventured down the passageway and opened the first door he encountered. It looked like an empty storeroom, with bits of cloth and shards of broken amphorae scattered on the stone floor. He moved east and checked out another large rectangular chamber that looked to have a magically-concealed secret exit in the southeast corner. Before he could investigate further, he heard a blood-curdling scream coming from the secret tunnel to the north. “That man was carrying my lunch order!” Siegfried exclaimed as he dashed back towards the tunnel. Rushing forward, he could see the struggling figure of the thug as he was being raked and torn by a flock of disembodied, floating hands, fingers, and even knuckles. Elsewhere in the tunnel, severed hands skittered up and down the walls, floor and ceiling like five-legged spiders. Beyond the injured man, the tunnel banked to the northwest. “Do you need assistance?” Siegfried asked. “Get them off, get them off, get them off!” the man shrieked as fingers explored his ears, nostrils, and eye sockets. Siegfried cast a pillar of lordly might to ensure that the man didn’t die while he waited for Alec to come and deal with the eerie disembodied hands.   Varien watched as Violance dragged a half-dead thug into view. “Brought you a snack,” the horse nickered. “Thought he’d like a chance to sing for you.” He dropped the man’s leg and then sat on the thug. “Gross,” Varien said. He sighed, squatted next to the man and said, “well, do you?” “If you don’t, I’m happy to eat you,” Violance said over Varien’s shoulder. “Ugh,” the man said painfully. “I can heal you if you like.” “Get this nightmare steed off of me!” the man gasped. Varien nodded at Violance. “Honestly, I was taught that on these middle planes that people said things like ‘please’ and ‘thank you.’” The horse haughtily rose off its haunches and the man gasped for breath. “Do you want to be cooperative?” Varien asked. “You see that we can be reasonable. What say we have a civilized conversation?” “What do you want to know?” the man asked. “Like I asked one of your comrades earlier, I don’t see any good reason for you to be down here. What’s going on?” The man shrugged. “I work for Bonesplitter.” “And what, do you guys just live here?” Varien asked. “Or have you come plundering?” “We’re based out of here, yeah,” the man replied. “So you know something about up top? That icy tomb?” Varien asked. “The what?” the man asked, confused. “Oh, you came in that way? My hat’s off to you, then.” “So you know about it, then.” “Well, it takes a particular set of skills to safely come and go through that entrance,” the man explained. “Wouldn’t you agree?” “I think we both know I have those skills,” Varien said sternly. Violance spoke in Infernal to Varien. “If he tells you everything you want to know, make sure to rub it in the orc’s face.” Varien smirked at the nightmare and then turned his attention back to the thug. “Who is this Bonesplitter, anyway?” “He keeps coin in my pocket. He doesn’t like being crossed. He’s got a terrible temper. The usual. We run goods through here, store stuff securely, sometimes the stuff is breathin’ and sometimes it ain’t. This isn’t exactly a nice neighbourhood, right?” “I’m not concerned with your buying and selling, I’m more concerned with what’s going on upstairs,” Varien said. “How’s about you introduce us to Bonesplitter and maybe he’s got some information I can actually use?” “You want me to take you to Bonesplitter?” The thug asked. Varien nodded. “I’d like to have a conversation.” The thug shrugged. “Yeah, you’ll have one of those for sure. I think you and he will hit it off.” Varien used some of his divine magic to heal the thug. “What, you don’t think Bonesplitter’s going to want to talk?” “Conversations with Bonesplitter tend to be short, alright?” the thug said. Varien smiled. “Don’t worry, I’ll give him time to speak.” He helped the man to his feet. “Lead the way and we’ll follow.” The thug dusted himself off. “Sure. This way.”   Alec dash into the tunnel and stopped as he saw the floating, writing morass of humanoid left hands, each of them with eyes sewn horribly into their palms and backs. “Well, I see what the problem is here. You’ve got too many hands in the air and on the walls.” He turned to the struggling thug, whose pockets were being turned out by a number of floating hands. “Hey, do you need a hand?”   Planetar-wen grew impatient and decided to set the room on fire. There was a whump of oil igniting as he used a flame-strike to ignite the amphorae. The pots began to explode one after the other with a loud series of booms.  A strong smell of burning mint, sap and moss pervaded the corridor as the flames spread. A cloud of sickly yellow smoke began to belch and bellow, spilling out into the air above the corridor as the vapours began to gather. Overcome by the poisonous fumes, Planetarwen backed away. “Wow, that escalated quickly!” he said.   Alerted to the presence of new targets, the swarm of hands grappled Siegfried. Hands clamped around his wrists, legs, and throat. Fingers with ragged nails probed him uncomfortably, tugging at his armour. “Looks like I’m gonna catch these hands!” Siegfried shouted. Alec balled his hands into fists and took a readying stance. “All of you, stop that!” Bob shouted as he approached from behind and cast word of radiance . Some of the hands cringed and withered, withdrawing to form a cloud of middle fingers pointing back at the cleric. Siegfried adjusted his tie, cast freedom of movement and the hands suddenly lost their grip on him as he moved out of their reach. “So,” he said to Bob. “We’ve got these hands here. This guy was on a lunch run for us but ran into some difficulty, and well, here we are.” He put his hands on his hips and examined the swarm. The thug on the floor continued to struggle as hands gouged at his eye sockets while others slapped him across the face and pummelled his ribs. Another hand yanked on his undergarments. The hallway sloped down into the gloom. Many of the hands had formed into an undulating wall of sorts, fingers interlaced, while a particularly large hand, a gold ring gleaming on its ring finger, wagged its index finger back and forth and pointed pointedly at a sigil inscribed upon the stone floor in the centre of the tunnel. Siegfried recognized the sigil as that of Halaster Blackcloak, the Mad Mage of Undermountain. “Ah, so this is some Halaster business!” Siegfried regarded the struggling thug. “Tell me, does this tunnel lead to Undermountain, then?”  He turned to the hands. “Okay, very funny, you got this guy good, but come on, we didn’t mean to mess with your boss Halaster. Let’s all be civil about this before things get out of hand.” At Siegfried’s pun, the hand stopped wagging and balled its fingers into a fist.   Varien healed his injuries as he and Violance walked along with the thug towards the southwestern section of the dungeon.   Elsewhere, the yellow fog cloud continued to spread.   In response to Siegfried’s oratory, the floating hands hauled the thug to his feet and brushed the dirt off his cloak. The lead hand, balled into a fist, socked him hard in the gut as its companions let him go. The thug sagged painfully against the wall, moaning and holding his stomach. “Thanks guys. We were headed in the direction of an orcish magical axe. Have you seen it? Maybe a hundred years ago or more?” In unison, the hands pointed to the east. “I gotta hand it to you, you’re all real gents,” Siegfried said, shaking hands politely with the floating appendages as he and Alec grabbed the injured thug and hauled him back into the dungeon proper. Alec offered the goon a flask. “You’ve had a pretty rough day. What’s your name?” The thug took a drink. “Calvin,” he replied. “Well, Calvin, you’ve had a rough go but I think you’ve been given a hand up here,” Alec said as he put his beefy arm around his shoulder.   Planetarwen backed away from the centre of the encroaching fog cloud, coughing. He headed to the south and soon found Varien, Violance, and a goon. Remaining invisible, he slipped silently overhead and spied something coming from the corridor to the south. “Why, this is an arcane ooze,” Planetar-wen thought to himself. “You’re the oozer now,” he thought as the ooze squelched its way towards him. Suddenly, the ooze reared up as it felt the invisible form of the planetar. Pseudopods slapped at Planetarwen, sticking in place, leaching acid onto his body. Then it engulfed him. To Varien’s eyes, a puddle of black-purple ooze suddenly took on the form of an angel in the corridor before him.   Siegfried led Bob and Alec towards the secret entrance in the southeast. “We’re going this way, friends.” He entered another vacant chamber. He turned to Calvin. “We going in the right direction?” “Take a left to get to Galguth’s office,” Calvin said.   Violance stampeded forward and kicked at the ooze. He flew back, but not before a pseudopod from the ooze smacked him with a parting blow. “Oh man, another ooze? We spend half our time clearing them out of our turf!” the goon said. Varien turned to the goon. “What works best?” The goon thought for a moment. “Well, they don’t like lightning,” he said. Varien cast lightning lure on the ooze, blasting the protoplasm. As he dragged it towards him, he noticed the veins of eldritch energy in the ooze begin to oscillate twice as fast as they were before. He struck at it with his sword, to little effect, though he did set off a radiant smite. “Well, I see the problem here,” Varien said. “Slashing doesn’t seem to do much.” He slashed it again, Fiendsbane’s radiance doing secondary damage. “Lightning doesn’t work at all, mate!” Varien said over his shoulder to the goon. The goon snorted a laugh.   Elsewhere in the dungeon, the vapour fog continued to spread.   Alec looked over his shoulder and sniffed the air. “Do I smell essential oils?” he said. Tendrils of fog began to bleed around the corner of the chamber. “We might want to do something about that!” he pointed at the cloud of sickly yellow vapour. He grabbed Calvin in one arm and his brother in the other and dashed away from the gas.   Planetar-wen started to slash at the ooze with radiant swings of his sword. He also knew for a fact that the goon had outright lied to Varien. “Varien, you’ve got a liar next to you!” he called out.   “Put me down, brother!” Bob said. “I have something for this!” As Alec set him down, he grabbed his shard of the ise rune and cast sleet storm on the cloud of fog. The chamber was engulfed in a forty-foot radius column of swirling sleet, ice and rain that pounded down on the vapours. Then he dashed after his companions.   The ooze continued to dissolve Planetar-wen. Planetar-wen’s voice, muffled from the ooze, was strained as he called out “Looks like I’m in a sticky situation here!”