The party crept into the cavern, the spray
from the underground waterfall casting strange rainbows in the light from
Xylon’s magic-imbued stones.
Varien took a few cautious steps into the
drained pool, inspecting the fieldstone dike holding back the second reservoir
of water. It was inexpertly constructed, with trickles of water streaming
through gaps between the piled rocks, and looked ready to come apart at the
slightest provocation, which he supposed was the point. He twisted the dial on
the side of his Clockdrive goggles, hoping to extend the range of his
nightvision.
Erwen-Wolf lifted his snout and sniffed the
air – there was definitely a reek of goblin in the cavern, but it was as if
they’d wiped their filth over every available surface – he couldn’t pick out a
particular source of stench.
Ragnar, knives in hand, sidled around one
of the smooth stone pillars that held up the roof of the cave and walked almost
straight into the sharpened blade of a scimitar that smoothly scythed out of
the shadows and into his stomach. His grunt of pain was met with a goblish
cackle from the darkness.
Xylon stretched out his hand and cast firebolt , but the magic projectile
sparked over the head of the semi-hidden goblin and arced into the pool,
fizzling in a cloud of steam.
Erwen-Wolf growled and lunged at the goblin
ambusher, catching the creature with his jaws and taking a large bite out of
its midsection. The goblin screamed a torrent of curses as blood spattered
against the stone floor.
Theryn brought himself even with the
wildshaped druid and swung his quarterstaff overhand, cracking the goblin’s
skull and sending bright pinkish brain matter all over Ragnar’s boots.
The rogue smiled through the pain.
Varien splashed his way back to the rocky
ledge, regrouping with his comrades. He cast cure wounds and healed the injured Ragnar.
Bob moved up further into the cave, peering
into its depths but seeing nothing.
There was a cackle of glee from the
darkness as another goblin leapt from the shadows and stabbed at Erwen-Wolf,
wounding him, and then at Ragnar, who ducked the swing. The creature hopped
back into the shadows before anyone could react.
An arrow rushed out from the darkness of
the second pool towards Theryn, but the monk sensed the disturbance in the
natural serenity of the cave and ducked his head just in time. The arrow
shattered against the rock pillar.
Xylon mentally chose a section of the
cavern and cast sleep , hoping to
catch an ambusher with the sandman’s touch. He was rewarded with a snoring sigh
and the clang of a sword as it struck soundly on the ground.
Bob and Theryn, who were standing rather
close to the spell’s area of effect, both had to drowsily blink sleep out of
their eyes.
Erwen-Wolf rushed the snoring goblin and
bit him, shaking the creature violently in his jaws. The goblin awoke with a
start and began screaming with all its might. Erwen-Wolf gave him one final
shake and spit him contemptuously to the ground in a puddle of blood and
saliva.
As the wildshaped druid padded past the
mortally wounded goblin, the creature grasped his scimitar and attempted a
parting blow, but only succeeded in parting the toes from his right foot. The
green digits bounced here and there as the goblin shrieked and tried to gather
them up. “My pieces! I need to put my pieces back!”
Erwen-Wolf ignored the goblin’s shouts and
began mounting the uneven stone steps to another section of the cave.
Theryn attempted to bash the goblin with a
poke from his quarterstaff, but the panicked perturbations of the wounded
goblin meant that his staff struck bare rock instead of green skull. The monk
connected with a savage kick almost as an afterthought and joined the druid.
Varien followed, half-heartedly poking the wriggling goblin’s ribs with his
longsword.
Ragnar moved up to the goblin, surprised
that the battered creature was still conscious even as he bled profusely from
mouth, side, and foot. Heedless of his grievous injuries, the pathetic creature
was still gathering up his severed toes, trying to fit them back onto the stump
of his foot and having a difficult time of it.
“Easy now, let me help you,” the rogue
whispered, gently drawing both his knives across the goblin’s throat, slitting
it wide open. The creature stopped trying to reattach his toes and died with a wet
sigh.
The rogue turned to look at Theryn, Erwen, and
Varien, saying, "Come on, guys."
Bob took one last look around the cave and
joined his companions.
The adventurers strode into the next
cavern.
From behind them, the surface of the pool
was disturbed as a goblin slowly rose from the water, shortbow in hand and a
breathing tube made from a length of reed clenched between his sharpened teeth.
Unseen by the party, he swam back towards the edge of the waters with strokes
so deliberate that he barely made a ripple. Dripping wet, the goblin got out of
the water and ran towards the bridge, leaving wet footprints on the stone
floor.
The adventurers looked around the larger
cavern with the roar of the waterfall behind them. The eastern walls of the
cave were lined with barrels, sacks, casks and boxes, some opened to reveal
their contents strewn onto the ground.
To the west, the cavern narrowed and sloped
into darkness.
Before them was a glowing mass of coals,
smouldering red in the dark.
Over the rush of the waterfall they could
hear a growling sound. Beyond the coal brazier was a wagon, two of its four
wheels removed, with an enormous bugbear reclining on its sloped buckboard.
Beside it was a snarling Dire Wolf, its hackles raised in furious anger.
“Oh, shi-” they heard from a boulder to the
west of the coals. Two goblins were loafing against it, sharping their
scimitars, and were now gaping at the intruders.
The wagon creaked dangerously as the
bugbear drew himself up to his full, imposing height. He hefted a large
Morningstar in one hand, and the other hand balled into a fist that looked like
it could pulverize granite.
“Who dares interrupt the free time of
Klaarg?” the bugbear shouted.
In reply, Ragnar cast a hex of weakness on
the bugbear.
“Do you feel your strength slipping,
Klaarg? That’s the Black Spider’s disappointment in you!”
Then he spun to slice the nearest goblin
with his dagger, feinting with one and then carving the goblin into sliced meat
with the second.
Xylon cast flaming sphere directly over the surprised goblin and then rolled
it across the cavern, sweeping up debris before it struck the bugbear with a
flaming flash. The creature roared in anger as the smell of burning hair wafted
over.
With a full-throated roar Erwen-Wolf bounded
full speed at Klaarg and bit him on the forearm, dragging him to the cavern
floor.
The bugbear smiled a toothy smile as the
wildshaped druid gnawed on his beefy arm. He slowly got to his feet, shifting
under the added wolf weight, and drew his face close to Erwen-Wolf.
“Klaarg will make a rug out of you, soon.”
Erwen-Wolf winked at the Dire Wolf next to
him.
Klaarg raised his Morningstar and brought
it down heavily on the druid, bashing him right off his wrist, and yelled to
his animal companion, “Ripper, rip!”
Theryn leapt through the air, drawing on
his chi force to unleash a flurry of
blows on the bugbear brute. Klaarg withered under the monk’s assault.
The scorched goblin stabbed at Ragnar,
hitting the rogue, and then disengaged into darkness. His companion did the
same to Varien and also disappeared into the shadows.
Bob saw a flicker out of the corner of his
eye and threw himself to the ground as a volley of arrows streaked through the
air above him. Unseen archers were peppering his comrades with sniper fire.
The sorcerous cleric crabwalked over to
Ragnar, got to his feet, and then, feeling Sune’s hypnotic rhythm deep within
himself, began to dance a healing dance, placing his outstretched hand on the
rogue’s head to impart a healing word .
He then shimmied his way behind Varien’s shield for extra protection.
Ripper lunged at Erwen-Wolf but got nothing
but a tuft of fur for his trouble.
“Ripper!” Varien’s voice echoed throughout
the cavern, pitched down an octave under the weight of a divine command. “Sit
yourself down, there’s a good dog.”
Ripper tucked his tail between his legs,
whined, and sat back on his haunches.
Klaarg shook his head in disbelief as he
hefted his Morningstar. “Ripper, Klaarg is embarrassed for you!”
Everyone then remembered there was a
hissing, flickering flaming sphere hovering in the air above them. Erwen-Wolf
felt his hair singing, Klaarg bellowed as he received a third-degree suntan,
and Ripper howled as he cooked under the sphere’s heat.
Ragnar spied the archers, who were hidden
behind some crates, and let loose with his breath weapon, which unleashed a
crackling torrent of lightning that played over the eastern side of the cave.
The goblin archers twitched violently under the onslaught, smoke pouring from
eyes, ears, and mouths.
Xylon directed his flaming sphere across
the cave, ramming it into a fleeing goblin. It winked out of existence as he
cast chromatic orb at Klaarg. The
small ball of magical energy whipped across the cavern and struck the bugbear
square in the chest, where it exploded in a wave of thunder damage that nearly
brought Klaarg to his knees.
Disoriented by the thunder attack,
Erwen-Wolf tried to the bite the bugbear, but missed. He turned and shook his
furry head disapprovingly at Xylon, then resumed snapping his jaws at nothing.
Theryn and Klaarg exchanged a confused look
as the wildshaped druid writhed on the ground.
“Klaarg’s had enough of this!” the bugbear
shouted as he backed away. “Klaarg will build a throne out of your bones yet!”
The bugbear sidestepped Theryn’s bo staff, but as he turned to run, Theryn
followed up with an uppercut that caught the bugbear under the chin, violently
snapping his neck. The bugbear brute stumbled sideways and then pitched
forward, his head at an odd angle.
Ripper whined as his master died on the
floor of his lair.
Theryn moved back to Varien, taking refuge
behind the paladin’s shield.
A goblin scimitar slashed Ragnar’s arm and
then with a gleeful giggle, the attacker disengaged and stepped into a shadow,
disappearing.
A voice cut through the air behind the
group. “Well, well, well, this here’s a situation!”
Varien, Bob and Theryn whirled around to
see that a second group of goblins, led by a particularly nasty looking boss
with a horn lashed to his gleaming skull, stood in the doorway of the cave.
Ripper whimpered and nuzzled Klaarg’s body.
Varien quietly cast cure wounds on himself.
The lead goblin sneered and said, “Put up
your swords, boys. I smell an opportunity.”
“What kind of opportunity?” Ragnar asked.
The goblin jerked his head in signal to his
underlings, who heaved a bound human male onto the ground in front of them. It
was Sildar Hallwinter, beaten to within an inch of his life, but still
breathing.
Ragnar made a big show of dropping his two
daggers, mindful of the many more he had secreted about his person.
“My name is Ragnar,” he said. “May we
discuss terms over a drink of ale?” He indicated one of the nearby casks of
dwarven stout.
“You may call me Yeemik,” said the horned
goblin, “ and yes, we may discuss things before hostilities resume.”
“There are only six of us, and nine of you
at least,” Varien said. “You all need to be where we can see you.”
Yeemik grinned, showing his filed fangs.
“Of course. Boys, don’t surround them too obviously.” He grabbed Sildar by what
was left of his starched collar and dragged him forwards.
Sildar took a groggy look at the party and
his eyes widened in bloodshot surprise. “D-don’t trust this one,” he gasped.
“He’s as treacherous as a-”
A goblin boot to the belly stopped Sildar
from speaking further.
The party backed up and positioned
themselves at the coal brazier.
“Everybody needs a drink to ease the
tension here,” Ragnar said.
Erwen-Wolf dropped out of wildshape and
surreptitiously reached out with a druidic spell.
Thorny vines began to push out of the stony
ground beneath Yeemik and his goblin band.
Ragnar leaned over to the druid. “Let’s let
the negotiations fail before we launch an attack, okay mate?”
The vines retreated.
“Now then,” Yeemik said, a mug of ale in
hand. “You boys have done me a bit of service here, knocking off that oaf of a
bugbear.”
“Yes, he wasn’t very bright, was he?”
“Hardly,” Yeemik snorted. “After all, you
bested one of our ambushing parties, but it was one that he put together. Not
up to snuff, you see.”
“Right,” Ragnar said.
“And your friends that we ambushed are
worth a lot to the right people,” Yeemik said. “What are they worth to you?”
“Well, no offense to Sildar, but where’s
Gundrun?”
“Oh, the dwarf?” Yeemik said. “He’s no
longer with us,” the goblin sneered.
“So,” Yeemik continued. “I could give you
this piece of human filth here,” he indicated Sildar, “but I’m wondering what
else you’ve got for me, since you’ve already killed Klaarg, which means that
I’m now in charge of this band. So I’ve already got what I want.”
“Yes, well, I’m sure there’s more that we
can do to give you what’s coming to you,” Ragnar said, and signaled to Erwen.
Thorny vines erupted from the rocky ground
to ensnare the largest grouping of goblins.
Bob quickly cast guidance on Erwen. Varien rushed forward to block the cave
entrance, but Xylon stopped him with a wave of his hand. A magical fog suddenly
puffed into existence, smothering the goblin sentries posted there in complete
darkness.
Varien drew up his crossbow and gave the
nearest goblin a bolt to the face. Theryn jumped into the fray, striking the
same goblin with his quarterstaff.
Ragnar stepped forward, drawing a dagger
from his boot and holding it to Yeemik’s neck as the goblin fought off Erwen’s
vines. Yeemik slapped the knife away, and Ragnar slapped the goblin back.
Several slaps later, Ragnar had the goblin boss in a headlock with a knife to
the throat.
Varien finally drew blood, running through
a goblin in the centre of the twisting vine snare.
Holding the goblin steady, Ragnar let loose
an eldritch blast at another goblin but missed, striking the cave wall.
Off to the rogue’s side, Xylon clapped
slowly.
Ragnar dragged the struggling goblin boss
through the pile of hot coals. Yeemik screeched “awww, c’mon!” as his legs were
scorched.
A goblin turned from his place near the
rock to face Xylon, bearing his teeth in hideous malevolence. Xylon stood fast
and cast firebolt at him.
“Wait, aren’t there two goblins?” shouted Bob
in alarm.
Erwen looked sadly at Ripper, a tear in his
eye as he watched the Dire Wolf whine in fear and pain as he nuzzled the corpse
of his dead master.
“I’m sorry Ripper,” he said softly. “But I
must cleanse the darkness from you.”
The druid cast Moonbeam . From the stone ceiling of the cavern came a pinprick of
radiant light that expanded into a cylindrical beam, illuminating the area
around the dire wolf and wreathing the creature in powerful magic.
Ripped howled in pain and rage as the
radiant energy scorched his flesh.
Theryn’s quarterstaff was a whirling blur
as he killed a vine-rooted goblin with a bashing blow and let loose a kick
against a second snared goblin.
Xylon’s eyes widened in surprise as a
second goblin stepped out of the shadow cast by the first.
"I told you there were two of
them!" Bob shouted. The second goblin swung his scimitar in a
savage arc, slicing through the wizard’s shield
spell and opening a deep wound.
From the fog near the cavern’s entrance
came a number of confused shouts and the clank of armor as the blinded goblins
ran into one another and the cave walls.
The goblin before Varien pulled himself
from the thorns, slashed at the paladin, and then grabbed Sildar by the hair
and began to drag him into the fog.
Bob tried to cast guiding bolt but failed.
Bathed in pale radiant light, Ripper turned
towards Erwen and jumped at him, a landslide of fangs and claw.
Varien channeled his divine energy and cast
abjure on the fleeing goblin as it
disappeared into the fog. There was a skidding sound as the goblin’s feet came
to a halt, and a panicked cry of alarm from within the fog. Sildar’s boots were
still visible just at the edge of the roiling magic fog.
The paladin grabbed at Sildar’s kicking
legs.
Ragnar pinned Yeemik to the ground,
grinding his bootheel into the goblin’s crossed arms and was rewarded with a
snapping sound.
“Aw, c’mon!” Yeemik screeched.
Xylon ran away from the goblins and found
himself backed into a corner. He spun about and cast burning hands , scorching the pair of attackers.
Erwen rolled away from Ripper and cast Moonbeam again, causing the Dire Wolf
more anguish.
Theryn missed a goblin with his
quarterstaff but landed a solid punch.
One of the blinded goblins stumbled out of
the fog, giving Ragnar an opportunity to stab him unawares.
Bob frowned and cast guiding bolt at one of the goblins out of sheer annoyance. There
was a blinding flash, and then the only thing that remained of the goblin were
its two boots smoking on the cavern floor.
Ripper lunged at Erwen again and bit him
around the middle.
Erwen shouted, “Ripper, noooooo!” even as
he fought back. The halfling’s thoughts began to drift to his time with the
wolf pack.
Ragnar let loose an eldritch blast,
catching one of the goblins flatfooted.
Xylon’s shield
could only hold back the goblin’s blows for a moment longer. He gripped
Glasstaff’s glass staff and swung it, realizing only at the last second that he
could have accidentally shattered it against the cave’s wall.
The goblins laughed at his attempt at melee
combat.
Erwen tried to force Ripper’s jaws open but
could not succeed. With the last of his strength, he cast flame blade and at one a flaming scimitar arced into existence
around his right hand. He thrust the flaming sword into Ripper’s ribcage,
running the dire wolf clean through with a fiery flash. The wolf howled in
agony, letting the druid fall from its open jaws.
Varien swung his sword but couldn’t connect
with the goblins who were darting in and out of the shadows with gleeful
abandon.
Xylon choked as a goblin scimitar again
poked through his staff’s shield
spell.
The goblin pressed his face in close to the
wizard. “I’m going to eat your eyes, first, you elven trash!”
Bob cast Sacred Flame at a goblin the creature danced out of the way.
Erwen dropped to the ground before Ripper,
bleeding.
Varien finally connected with his
longsword, killing a goblin that was emerging from the rapidly dissipating fog.
An eldritch blast from Ragnar missed the
goblins menacing Xylon.
Xylon gritted his teeth and cast magic missile, devastating his goblin
attacker at such close range. The goblin flew back, dead.
Ripper’s jaws opened wide above Erwen, who
propped himself up on his elbow and cast poison
spray. A puff of noxious gas enveloped Ripper’s head, but the Dire Wolf was
so enraged that it continued to snap at the Halfling undeterred.
Theryn rushed to the druid’s side and
delivered a backbreaking blow to the dire wolf with his quarterstaff.
Ripper locked eyes with Erwen even as his
spine snapped and he sagged to the ground next to the Halfling. Erwen returned
the stare tearfully, not looking away until the light had gone out of Ripper’s
eyes.
The last goblin stabbed Xylon in the
shoulder and then darted away through the remainder of the magic fog, which by
now was only a few meandering wisps.
Varien gave chase as Xylon slumped to the
floor, unconscious.
Ragnar reached down and pulled Sildar back
to safety.
As he was busy helping Sildar, he noticed
too late that Erwen had jumped to his feet, flaming sword still in hand, and
had rushed over to where Yeemik was laying. Before the rogue could intervene,
Erwen drove his magic sword through the helpless goblin, killing him.
Ragnar’s eyes widened in fury, the corneas
of his eyes glittering in the reddish firelight like gold coins.
He stepped over to the Halfling, who was
still holding his sword over the goblin’s body.
“What. Did. You. Do?” the rogue asked.
Erwen didn’t meet Ragnar’s gaze. “They
killed the horses…”
Ragnar balled his fists as rage clouded his
vision. “Dolt! Moron! Idiot! You killed the one goblin who could have told us
where Cragmaw Castle was!” He hammered the druid with his fists, not realizing
the extent of Erwen’s wounds, or just not caring.
The druid pitched sideways, unconscious.
“I get it, you hold a grudge,” Ragnar said,
breathing heavily. “But a silent resentment does not entail stabbing a helpless
enemy who is under a dragon’s boot!” He turned away in disgust.
“Why’d we even let him join the party?” the
rogue asked nobody in particular.
Bob knelt beside Xylon and cast a healing spell. He whispered into the
wizard’s ear something humorously profane.
Ragnar looked over at the cleric. “Can you
resurrect this idiot?” He indicated Erwen’s body.
Bob nodded.
“Thanks,” Ragnar said, rubbing his
knuckles.
Varien huffed and puffed as he ran after
the nimble goblin through the pool cave and into the tunnel that followed the
stream. The goblin would leap ahead and then dive into the nearest shadow,
emerging blade first to fight the paladin off again before beating feet.
It was frustrating to say the least.
In Klaarg’s cave, Ragnar tossed Yeemik’s
burnt corpse in Bob’s direction. The cleric cast spare the dying and Ragnar slapped the injured goblin awake.
“Huh, what?” Yeemik’s eyes snapped open
wildly. He tried to move his broken limbs, but realized he couldn’t. “I was
having the most wonderful dream. Maglubiyet was roasting me on a spit in the dungeons of
Grashmog while worms devoured my eyes piece by piece.” Yeemik smiled and sighed. “It was
wonderful…”
Bob looked down and realized he hadn’t
taken a single hit during the melee. He smiled and thanked Sune for his good
fortune.
“Dammit you wretch, stay still so I can
thrash you!” Varien shouted as he chased the goblin.
The goblin sniggered in response and deftly
leapt from the rocky path next to the stream, executing a perfect dive into the
shallow water.
Varien gaped and skidded to a stop. He stepped into the water, which only came
up to his shins. He poked around with the tip of his longsword to no avail.
He turned his eyes skyward and lamented.
Silence fell in the main cavern. Ragnar
shoved Yeemik into a barrel and poked airholes in the splintered wood, not
caring if he poked the goblin in the process.
“Aw, c’mon!” Yeemik offered a muffled
shout.
Bob sprinkled some holy water on Xylon’s
face, bringing him around. “Theryn, stand ready. I’m going to wake Erwen up.”
Halfway across the cavern, Ragnar snorted.
Varien walked back into the cavern,
sulking.
Bob brought Erwen around. The druid got
painfully to his feet, and then placed a hand gently on Ripper’s corpse. He
walked over to where a bearskin rug had been laid out on the floor and gathered
it up, then knelt by the Dire Wolf and began skinning it with great care,
humming a half-remembered tune from his infancy. The druid worked until he had a full pelt, and made a necklace of the dire wolf's paws.
The party chose to barricade the cavern’s
entrance until they had rested up sufficiently. They piled boxes and sacks
until they had walled themselves in, and then settled down to rest and
recuperate.
Varien explored the perimeter of the cavern
and took note that the western end of it tapered to a narrowed, sloping point,
a sort of chute in the floor from which he could smell nothing good, and hear
the angry, hungry snaps of the chained wargs below. He scratched his chin
thoughtfully.
They untied Sildar Hallwinter, who thanked
them for rescuing him.
“Here’s what I know,” Sildar said. “I met
Gundren Rockseeker in Neverwinter and agreed to accompany him back to
Phandalin. We hired you, so this much you already know.”
“Why did you ride on ahead that day on the
trail?” Varien asked.
“Gundren was getting impatient,” Sildar
said. “He was onto something big with his brothers Tharden and Nundro, and
wanted to conclude his business in Phandalin before moving on to his ‘big
score,’ as he called it.”
“The Rockseeker brothers claim to have
found an entrance to a long-lost mine full of riches and magic called Wave Echo
Cave,” Sildar continued. “Gundren had a map, but naturally didn’t show the
location to me during our travels.”
He sighed. “The goblins ambushed us and
they dragged us back to this miserable cave. I thought we were both bound for a
goblin stewpot, but as it turns out, the goblins had other plans for us. In
between beatings, I managed to find out that Klaarg, the brute who led this
goblin band until you showed up, had orders from someone to waylay Gundren on
his way back from Neverwinter. Someone or something called the Black Spider had
sent word that the dwarf was to be brought to him. I don’t know who or what the
Black Spider is.”
“We might have a clue,” Ragnar said. “Did
you see a drow around these parts?”
“I heard some goblins whispering about
drow, but never saw him. They took Gundrun away, and I think Klaarg had Gundren
and his map sent to the chief of the Cragmaw tribe at a place they call Cragmaw
Castle. I didn’t manage to find out where that castle might be, but somebody in
Phandalin might have an idea.”
“And what was your business in Phandalin?”
“I was sent there to track down an old
friend,” Sildar said.
“Well, we may have already tangled with an
agent of the Black Spider in Phandalin,” Ragnar said. “The Cragmaws aren’t the
only ones working for the Black Spider it seems.”
“Yes, there was an evil wizard fronting a
gang of thugs in Phandalin who went by the name of Glasstaff,” Varien said.
“But his real name was Lord Albrek, and we took care of him.”
At the mention of Albrek’s name, the colour
drained from Sildar’s face. “What did you say his name was?” he whispered.
“Lord Iarno Albrek,” Ragnar said. “He was
trying to take over Phandalin with his gang of Redbrand thugs.”
“Y-you must be mistaken,” Sildar said.
“Iarno was a good friend of mine, in fact it was he whom I was trying to
locate! What are you talking about?”
“Sorry to tell you this, Sildar,” Varien
said, “But Albrek was bleeding the town dry, and he was raising the dead to do
his bidding.”
“That’s nonsense!” Sildar said. “Iarno
wasn’t a necromancer!”
“No, he was a slave-trading necromancer,” Ragnar interjected.
“This is preposterous,” Sildar said.
“Albrek was a member of the Lord’s Alliance, a good and honourable man who was
sent to Phandalin to restore order and bring the light of civilization to the
frontier!”
Xylon showed Sildar the note they had
recovered from Glasstaff’s lair. Sildar read it over.
“I don’t believe it,” he said softly. “This
cannot be.”
“I’m sorry, I really am,” Varien said. If it turns out that Glasstaff wasn’t
raising the dead, I’m really, really sorry about how things turned out, he
thought to himself.
Sildar got to his feet. “I must get to
Phandalin and complete my mission for the Lord’s Alliance,” he said, “and
discover for myself once and for all what happened to my friend Iarno. I’m not
in the best shape to travel right now, but if you get me to Phandalin I will
pay you 50 gold pieces.”
“Excellent, that’s where we’re heading
anyway.” Ragnar said.
While searching the cavern, Theryn
discovered Klaarg’s treasure chest. In it was a heap of coins, and a small jade
statuette of a frog with jeweled orbs for its eyes. Theryn pocketed the statue,
and then found the remaining two wheels for Klaarg’s wagon bed. He and Ragnar
reassembled the wagon and began loading all the trade goods they could find.
Some of the crates bore the emblem of Lionshield Coster, so they knew they were
in for Linene’s reward upon their return to Phandalin.
Rested and rejuvenated, they explored the
rest of the cave network, discovering the hovels where the goblins slept, but
not much else. They manhandled the laden wagon to the mouth of the cave, careful not to let it fall into the stream. As they were about to leave Cragmaw Cave, the question of what to do
with the wargs had to be answered.
Some party members were for letting them
starve to death or die of thirst.
Varien drew his sword. “I’ll handle them.”
Erwen stayed his blade. “No,” he said
softly, a faraway look in his eyes. He pulled out a key that had been in one of
the dead goblins’ pockets.
The three wargs shied away from Erwen as he
approached. The stench of dead goblin was wafting down the natural rock chimney
above them, and the adventurers had the wargs’ master’s blood on their blades
and weapons. The animals knew they were in trouble; Erwen bore the scent of Ripper, the pack Alpha, whose blood the warg's could identify blindfolded.
Erwen found the iron spikes that held the
wargs chains, and released the locks.
The wargs looked at one another, looked at
Erwen and the adventurers, and then high-tailed it out of the cavern to freedom
in the wilds of the countryside.
A single tear rolled down Erwen’s cheek as
he watched the animals recede into the distance.
