18 Esterealan: Deep Inside the Den of Evil

I waited at the top of the tower for a few minutes, but no irate Azkalite bellowing erupted down below. I headed back down to find Frieda looking calm and composed, her anger having dissipated as quickly and as randomly as a summer storm. Azkalites - go figure.
“Frieda,” Kariya asked, “were those the same wights --”
“Wraiths,” I corrected.
“Wraiths. Were those the same wraiths that attacked us before?”
“I do not know,” said Frieda. “I did not stop to examine them. They did not have any heads.”
“Were there three again this time?” Kariya asked.
Frieda nodded.
“So, are we really getting rid of these wraiths, or are they going to keep coming back?”
None of us knew the answer to that. “Maybe they'll keep coming back until their bodies are properly buried,” I suggested.
“Jacob,” Rhavin muttered. I have no idea what that was all about.
Kariya brought up the nightly ´where do we camp' question. Although the mage wondered aloud if the wraiths would only attack us in the towers, we decided on the base of the tower as the most defensible spot. It worked out fine. Nothing with or without a head molested us during the night.

19 Esterealan: Deep Inside the Den of Evil

We broke camp with our usual praying and oatmeal preparation. We kept jumping at shadows, expecting wraiths to come through the walls at any moment, but none appeared. Thank the gods for small favors. I recast the Remiére's Luck spell on everyone, since I had good reason to suspect that we might need it. For certain no one objected. While I was doing this, the clerics cast ´Endure Elements' on everyone. That was a total of 14 spells before we even had breakfast.
After the usual morning oatmeal, we gathered up our gear and moved back to the bloodstained mess hall where the giant, skeletal creatures had been licking us all with their nasty tongues. I found myself reflexively wiping my face as we stood and pondered Kariya's ice wall. There was a shallow crack in it, but it still stood firm. Sure as hell we couldn't wait for it to melt in this frigid place.
Well, it wasn't quite as frigid in this particular room. Those flaming braziers gave off pretty good heat.
Rhavin nudged me and pointed to the braziers. “I wonder if we can light anything with those?”
“You two stop it,” said Kariya, chuckling.
“We already went through this,” Frieda said sternly. While the rest of us laughed, Kariya had to explain to her that Rhavin was just teasing. Frieda scowled at him in disapproval, as if she felt that this was improper behavior for a paladin.
After discussing our options (or lack thereof) for several minutes, we decided that we had to go through the ice wall, and that I should dispel it. I waited until everyone was lined up and ready to go through, then I decided to stop and ask a question that had been plaguing me for some time.
“So Rhavin, why does your shield glow pink sometimes?”
He looked a little startled. “It is one of the gifts Lady Whitefall gave to me for protection.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Oh, really? Lady Whitefall gave you protection?”
Rhavin looked uncomfortable. Galen glared at me for making such an inappropriate remark. Frieda was also glaring, but I suspect she was just anxious to get through the ice wall and start killing things.
A bard knows when his audience is not in the mood for jokes. I turned around and dispelled the wall. As we moved cautiously into the corridor, I could feel Galen's stare of disapproval. I swear, ´Bestow Guilt Trip' is some sort of divine paladin ability. Galen uses it all the time.
“What?” I whispered. The two of us formed the rear guard of the group, which unfortunately gave Galen plenty of opportunity for lecturing.
“Lady Whitefall is a member of the Council of Nine,” he said sternly. “She is a right and proper woman, who should be duly respected for her achievements, her rank and her station.”
I gave him my best innocent smile. “What did I say that was disrespectful?”
Galen gave me that look. You know, the one your parents used when you were seven and you told them you had no idea how all those crickets had gotten into the girls' sleeping bags. That look.
“Okay, okay, I'm sorry.”
Galen continued to glare at me.
“I mean it. If I ever meet Lady Whitefall, I promise to be a model of respectfulness. Hell, I'll even kiss her feet if it will make you happy.”
Galen frowned. “That will not be necessary.”
“Right. No foot kissing. How about a nice bow? I'm really quite good at that.”
He nodded. Good. Apology accepted. A wise man would have shut up at this point.
“So does Rhavin have any other girlfriends I shouldn't make jokes about?” I asked.
Galen did not take my question in the spirit of jest with which it was intended. He lectured me for several minutes, until Portia distracted him with gossip about local royalty. Thank you, Portia.
The passageway led us to an enormous cavern. Our hushed voices echoed around the vaulted ceiling that stretched a hundred feet above us. The walls and floor were coated with ice that sparkled in the reflection of the light we carried. It was like standing inside a giant diamond.
It was freezing in here. Even with the spells the clerics had cast upon us, the air burned our lungs and made the exposed skin on our faces sting. We all pulled the hoods of our cloaks tighter around us. I even broke out my pirate mask and put it on.
Galen scowled at me, while Loran looked puzzled. (None of us had bothered to mention my pirate hobby to the ranger.) “It would not be advisable to wear that among the populace. It might give the wrong impression to the commoners.”
“I don't think we're going to find many villagers in here,” I assured him. Not living ones, anyway.
Kariya tapped the floor. The ice was thick and solid. Walking on this was going to be a real bitch. We dug the crampons out of Kariya's box and put them on. (The mage had little, leather booties for Ulfie.)
“Why are we carrying so many wooden stakes?” Frieda asked when we came across the compartment holding the extra weapons.
“Vampires,” I said.
Frieda scowled. “I would never fight with such a weapon,” she said haughtily.
“It's the only way to kill a vampire,” I reminded her.
“And you are most welcome to do that with the next vampire we meet,” she told me. “After we have destroyed it with more conventional weapons.”
“I believe,” said Galen, “our hope is that the vampire we met was an aberration, and we will not be meeting any others.”
“Yes,” several people said in fervent unison. (Not Portia - I swear, she looked disappointed.) “That is definitely our hope,” Kariya added.
“But don't count on it,” I said. Vampires in Ravenloft often seemed to come in groups. Portia actually seemed to be cheered by this comment. She finds undead fascinating, gods help her.
“While optimism is always welcome for morale,” Frieda said, “there is some use in admitting that the water skin is half empty.”
Once we were all equipped with crampons, we moved close to the entrance and peered into the frigid cavern. Most of us saw nothing other than ice sparkling in the light, but Loran hissed as he spied something ominous.
“Do you see those tracks that go up the wall?” he asked.
We all looked at the ice. “No,” we replied. For all we knew, the ranger was making all this up just to frighten us.
“Those tracks are the same as the ones the white dragon left in the other cavern.”
“Another dragon?” asked Rhavin doubtfully.
“Or a zombie dragon,” I muttered.
“Or,” Rhavin said, “it could be the same dragon. Loran, how old are these tracks?”
“I can't tell,” said Loran. “No weather in here. No wind, or rain to erode the tracks.”
“Can dragons really climb up walls?” asked Portia.
Kariya nodded.
“Why would it?” asked Rhavin. “Why not just fly?” He had a point. There was certainly enough room for a dragon to fly around in here.
“Ranger Loran,” said Frieda, “are these similar tracks, or the same tracks?” This was a very, very important question. Surely there couldn't be another dragon in here.
“They might be the same,” said Loran. “Or just similar.”
“So, you can't say for sure that there's not another dragon running around in here?” Portia asked nervously.
Loran nodded. “Exactly.”
“This place sucks,” I complained.
“Are there other tracks?” Kariya asked Loran.
The ranger shook his head. “The ice is very hard. The dragon's claws left tracks, but not much else would.”
The dragon's claws? How did he know those weren't vampire claws. I darted a glance at the ceiling, but nobody was hanging there.
We moved slowly into the cavern. All of us looked anxiously around at the gleaming walls, wondering if something nasty was about to leap out and attack us. Well, actually, most of us looked around. I just watched Loran. That's what I'd learned from his attempts to train us in observation -- the ranger notices stuff first, so you can save yourself a lot of effort by just keeping an eye on him. Sometimes he'll even point when he sees things.
Two steps in, and everyone except Loran, Portia and me promptly fell on their ass. In most cases this was accompanied by the clanging of metal armor. Well, this was dignified. Those of us who'd kept our feet helped the others to stand. (Frieda angrily shrugged off Loran's attempt to help her, but the others were grateful.)
Going at a slow crawl on behalf of our less graceful members, we crept into the room. Our breath steamed in the frigid air. Our crampons made loud scratching noises on the ice, like long, sharp nails on the lid of a coffin. Armor creaked. Ulfie's booties made a soft, padding noise on the ice. There was no other sound in the vast, icy cavern.
“Shhh!” Kariya hissed. “Stop moving. I heard something.”
We stopped and listened. I had no idea what Kariya had heard, but it was evident that Loran and the paladins had heard it too.
“It sounded like crampons,” said Kariya. “Or maybe... a dragon?”
Rhavin started glowing, and Frieda cast a spell. A dragon. But where? How the freaking hell could something as gods-awful big as a dragon be hiding in here? There was nothing to hide behind.
Loran moved slowly away from the rest of the group, heading closer toward the right wall. What the hell was he doing? If there was a dragon in here, the last thing we needed to do was split up. We needed to look after each other. With that in mind, I moved closer to Portia. Kariya sent Ulfie to the far corner and cast his kennel.
Nothing attacked. Had they just imagined the noise? It hardly seemed likely, but there was an echo in here. Cautiously, we crept further forward.
There was a sharp intake of breath from Kariya. “I see it,” she whispered. “Big dragon. Creeping along the wall over there, about seventy feet in the air.”
She pointed. Even following her directions, I could barely make out some shadow of movement along the cavern wall. The creature's hide must be blending in with the ice.
“What color is it?” asked Frieda.
“Does it have a head?” I asked.
“Yes, it has a head. It's... light grey.” Sigh. Ask a silly question from a color-blind mage. “It has a beaked nose, and long wings.”
Tension in the room mounted. Our breath fogged in the frosty air. Would the dragon pounce on us? Would it breathe its killing cold before the clerics could protect us? Carefully, without making any threatening movements, our casters started digging for spell components. The paladins gripped the hilts of their weapons, and I hefted my gitar.
Frieda cast her Resist Cold spell on Galen. That was one of us who wouldn't die instantly if the dragon breathed.
“It's moving closer,” Kariya whispered.
“I didn't know dragons came in grey,” Portia said quietly. Oh my. We're going to have to explain about Kariya's visual disability.
“Don't provoke it yet,” Rhavin warned.
Realizing that standing between the party and the dragon would not bode well for his longevity, Loran started moving in closer to the group. He kept an arrow nocked and his gaze trained on the far wall where the dragon was moving.
Suddenly, a circle of fog appeared. The two paladins disappeared inside it. We heard a clanging noise, as of metal hitting the ice.
“Did one of us do that?” I asked.
“No,” Kariya said.
“I dropped my sword,” came Rhavin's muffled voice. Apparently, this strange, magical fog was slippery and frigidly cold, like sleet.
Portia's delicate brows furrowed, and she cast a spell. The sphere of fog vanished. Rhavin looked anxiously around and spotted his sword on the ground, several feet behind him.
“Well done, Portia,” I said. She smiled in graceful acknowledgement of the compliment.
Carefully, Rhavin moved backward on the ice. He reached down and picked up his sword. A sigh of relief escaped him.
A faint squeaking noise came from the other direction. I flinched, but it was just Ulfie playing with his chew toy.
I stepped in front of Portia, hoping to shield her if the dragon attacked, and I played, casting the Song of Heroes. The notes of The Battle Hymn of The Six echoed throughout the cavern. Imbued by my bardic magic, the song empowered us all with protection and with prowess in battle.
Frieda cast Resist Elements on Kariya, while Portia did the same for Loran. That was three of us who wouldn't die instantly if the dragon breathed. Kariya's fingers twitched. She was itching to cast a lightning bolt, but we weren't ready for this fight yet. We didn't dare provoke the dragon while we were still vulnerable to its frigid breath.
“Are we attacking the dragon?” Galen whispered.
“Not yet,” Kariya whispered back.
Galen glanced over his shoulder at the rest of us. There was an expression on his face that I've learned to fear. It was the same polite but determined look he gets when he's about to explain to Organization thugs the benefits of living a life free of crime and debauchery. Gods help us, what was he up to?
Lowering his axe, Galen straightened his shoulders and took a step closer toward the dragon. He said something in a firm tone in a language I could only assume was draconic. Dear gods above, he was going to bargain with the dragon.
The language was returned from the wall, but this voice was booming and somehow elegant. The soft consonants of the dragon's speech in that mighty bass wove a thing of beauty, like the most carefully crafted sonata.
The dragon and Galen continued their conversation, while the rest of us waited tensely. After a moment, Galen turned around. His eyes were wide with shock as he looked from Portia to Frieda and Kariya. Then he turned back to the dragon.
“We are not leaving anyone here,” he said angrily in common. He continued in draconic, his tone harsher than it had been. Galen was really pissed. What the hell had the dragon said to him?
“That's it,” Frieda muttered. Hiding her movements behind Rhavin, she cast Resist Elements on herself. Portia, standing behind me, followed suit. I played louder, to cover their muttered incantations. That was four of us protected.
Galen paused after the dragon's latest comment, then he lowered the visor of his helmet. “We will do none of those things,” he yelled angrily in common. Uh oh. Things were about to get ugly.
Frieda and Portia cast Resist Elements on Rhavin and me. We were all protected now. Well, from magical cold, anyway. There is, as far as I know, no Resist Nasty Claws and Teeth spell. Man, how I wish there were.
As soon as the last protection spell was cast, Loran fired two arrows. We heard a meaty thunk, and a rumbling growl that echoed through the vast cavern. Oh shit. I took a step back, closer to Portia.
Frieda took a step forward, then cursed in frustration. She couldn't get to the dragon.
“Don't worry,” said Kariya. “He'll be down.”
Waiting for the enemy to come to her was not, however, Frieda's style. She cast a spell, and a ray of flame appeared in her hand. It looked positively diabolical. Frieda aimed the fiery ray toward the dragon. It formed a tail like a comet as it streaked through the air. We could all see the dragon briefly illuminated as the flames struck its gleaming hide. The creature was huge, birdlike, graceful. It's scales gleamed like diamonds as the fire washed over them. Well, almost over them. The flames seemed to be reflected by the scales. They lit the ceiling, where ice dripped down onto the dragon. Gods damn it all to hell, the beast was resistant to magic.
“You meant to do that, right?” Portia asked. She wasn't kidding. Frieda's only reply was the grinding of teeth.
The dragon snarled something in draconic. Galen replied. He sounded really pissed off. Then there was the screeching noise of huge claws against the ice as the dragon leaped off the wall.
Kariya cut loose with a bolt of lightning. The bolt arced toward the dragon, catching it in mid-air. The dragon didn't resist that. The bolt scorched the scales on the dragon's massive chest. The beast roared in pain as it landed right where Galen was standing.
I almost screamed Galen's name, but I had to keep singing the spell. What the hell? Had the creature smashed him underneath? I couldn't see Galen at all from where I was standing.
“Do you think it was something he said?” Portia asked. Well, probably. Speaking draconic doesn't seem to have served Galen very well.
Frieda cast a flame strike on the dragon. Flames engulfed the creature's side. What the hell was she doing? She could hurt Galen. The dragon screeched and slashed its tail angrily. I didn't hear any screaming from Galen.
Another cloud of freezing fog appeared. Frieda and Rhavin disappeared within it. We heard muffled Azkalite cursing. We did not, however, hear any weapons hitting the ice.
“It would be good if you didn't get caught in that too much more,” Portia said politely as she cast a spell. The fog vanished. Rhavin and Frieda could see again.
Portia and I seemed to be standing closer to the dragon than was really ideal. I nodded at her, and we both stepped back a bit. Mind you, The Oasis would have been about the ideal distance from the dragon, but this was the best we could do without abandoning our friends.
Rhavin lifted his blade and strode boldly toward the dragon. Well, okay, he took a careful baby step on the ice, but striding boldly sounds better. He swung his blade at the dragon's shoulder. The point slipped in between two of the gleaming scales, and blood fountained out. At least, I think it was blood. It was some icy, white stuff dripping from the wound. I figured that's what white dragon ichor looked like.
Loran sidled around for a better angle and shot at the dragon. Both arrows sank into the dragon's side. The ranger was really pissing the beast off big time. Not really a healthy thing to do.
Frieda waddled forward on the ice a bit closer to the dragon. Her eyes gleamed. I cringed, imagining a column of flame hitting the dragon and both paladins. What is it with those priests of fire gods?
“Galen, where are you?” Frieda yelled. Apparently, she'd decided against immolating the paladins. She waddled a few more steps across the ice and swung her blade. It bit deep into the creature's hide, just behind the wing. More white stuff oozed from the wound.
We heard Galen bellowing, followed by the familiar thunk of his axe as the blade bit deep into dragon hide. Thank the gods -- Galen wasn't crushed under the beast. The dragon screamed and lashed its tail.
With all three warriors surrounding the dragon, Kariya couldn't risk a lightning bolt. Instead, she sent magic missiles streaking toward the dragon. They bounced off the scales, echoing as they lit up the walls of the cavern in all directions. Portia ducked reflexively as one sailed over our heads.
The dragon opened its maw, bellowing a roar that shook the cavern. It lashed out, sinking its teeth into Rhavin's shoulder and a huge claw into Frieda's side. Its wings swept up, then slammed down with a whoosh onto Frieda and Galen, while the barbed tail whipped around and cut into Galen's legs. Galen staggered. All three warriors cried out in pain as bones cracked and blood poured from their wounds. Holy gods in Estereal's palace, how could our warriors possibly survive this battle?
A whoosh of air swept through the cavern. A second white dragon flew into the cavern to land beside its mate. As we all stared in disbelief, the creature opened its maw and breathed killing frost upon the front half of our group.
Loran leaped aside, and the paladins raised their shields to deflect the frost. Frieda stood there defiantly, not moving. “This is not real!” she shouted. “This is not --” her second cry was cut off as the blast of cold hit her in the face.
“Perhaps I was mistaken,” Frieda amended.
Our warriors were protected by clerical magic, and they were little harmed by the dragon's breath. That did not, however, change the fact that we were now facing two dragons capable of clawing, biting and slapping the shit out of all three warriors at once. Gods help us all.
Portia moved a few steps closer to the dragon. She cast a spell, and the scent of roses perfumed the cavern. Some of the wounds on Frieda, Loran and Rhavin healed up a bit, but it was like a drop in the ocean. They were all still bleeding profusely.
Praying I might be able to send the second dragon running, I cast a spell to enhance my magic. If I could make one of the dragons phobic of humans, that would give us a fighting chance. I just didn't see how we could defeat two dragons at once.
Meanwhile, I didn't like seeing Portia standing in the middle of the cavern with no one to defend her. I raced over to place myself squarely between her and the dragons. If one of them came at us... Well, maybe Portia could get away while it was shredding the bard.
Rhavin's shield glowed pink. The scent of roses was getting almost overpowering in here. If only the dragons had been allergic, like my cousin Kelryn.
Loran shot the wounded dragon twice. Icy slush poured from the wounds. What the hell was that all about? Whatever was going on, the dragon didn't seem to be slowing down at all -- which was a lot more than could be said of our battered warriors.
“Remind me again why we're not retreating?” Portia asked.
“We're not that bright,” I told her quietly.
Bellowing in rage, Frieda stepped up and swung at the first dragon. Her blade carved two deep slashes in its neck. More white gunk oozed to the icy, cavern floor. From the dragon's other side, Galen struck with his axe. Our brave warriors were carving that dragon up like a stuffed goose, but it still wouldn't go down.
Kariya sidled along the ice to position herself, and she cast. Thunder rumbled. Lighting zipped between Frieda and Rhavin toward the newly arrived dragon. The dragon ducked, but the lightning scorched along the tip of its wing.
Another freaking cloud of freezing fog appeared around Rhavin and Frieda. Portia's sighed in dismay as we heard the familiar sound of a sword hitting the ice and sliding. This was followed by muffled Azkalite swearing.
Meanwhile, the second dragon flapped around to our side of the party. The ranger ducked the dragon's bite, but he got raked by a claw. Loran staggered but didn't fall.
“Are you sure we're not smart enough to retreat?” Portia asked me.
I looked nervously at the cavern entrance. “I think it's a little too late for that.”
The other dragon buffeted both paladins with its wings. Galen dodged its bite, only to get lashed in the back by the tail. He fell to the ice and lay still while the tail whipped back around into the fog cloud. We heard the muffled sound of Frieda taunting the dragon. I guess it must have missed her.
“Galen!” I cried. He had to be alive, right? Galen deserved better than to die in his wretched place.
With a frustrated but ladylike sigh, Portia cast a spell. The latest fog cloud disappeared. “Yes!” Frieda cried as she spotted her sword lying on the ice.
Praying for luck, I cast Curse of Terror on dragon number two. I was trying to instill a nice, little phobia of humans. The spell worked, but the dragon shrugged off the effects. Gods damn it all to hell.
“By the grace of Estereal I smite thee!” Rhavin yelled. He lunged forward and swung his blade at the wounded dragon. The dragon ducked the swing. So much for all that paladin drama.
Meanwhile, poor Loran found himself standing all alone in front of the second, virtually unwounded dragon. This was not a happy place to be. He had no room for archery, so he swung his short sword desperately. The dragon dodged easily. For such freaking huge beasts, they're damned nimble.
Frieda's lunge to retrieve her dropped blade was helped along by a buffet from the dragon's wing. She staggered, but bravely stood and thrust her blade up through the dragon's wing and into its heart. The dragon collapsed -- into a giant pile of snow.
Snow? “What the hell?” I yelled. I might not be a monster expert, but I was pretty damned sure that dragons didn't do that when they died. The one in the outer cave certainly hadn't.
Undaunted, Kariya cast a spell, and four glowing balls of lightning appeared. They zipped toward the dragon, only to fade away into nothingness. “Damn,” Kariya swore. You know things are getting bad when the unflappable mage starts swearing.
Loran backed away from the dragon in front of him and shot two arrows. They both sunk deep into the neck. White ichor oozed from the wounds.
“It's another construct!” Kariya yelled.
“Does that mean we can dispel it?” I asked hopefully.
“Try it!”
Meanwhile, Frieda found herself standing in a pile of snow that had once been a dragon, at least thirty feet away from the one that was glaring at the ranger. Given the warriors' difficulty in traversing the ice, those thirty feet might as well have been thirty miles. By the time Frieda could run over there, the dragon would have finished digesting Loran and been thinking about a nice dessert of that handsome bard, or maybe the little pink morsel behind him.
Since she couldn't reach the dragon with her blade, Frieda cast a spell. A column of flame engulfed the dragon. It roared in agony, and white slush pooled onto the ice. We all cheered. Kariya followed the impressive blast of flames with a volley of magic missiles. They sunk into the dragon with an ear-splitting whine, leaving holes that leaked white slush.
The dragon sucked in air, then breathed ice all over us. This was, as you can imagine, an unpleasant sensation, but thanks to the clerics nobody was the slightest bit hurt by the killing frost. It might have been my imagination, but I'd swear the dragon looked pissed off.
Portia tried to dispel the creature. “Oh dear,” she said when the dragon remained standing there, quite clearly undispelled. I gave it a try, but I had no better luck.
Since the dragon wasn't looking their way, Rhavin took the chance to rush over and heal Galen. I was very much relieved to see him helping our friend to his feet. Galen was shaken, but very much alive. Thank the gods.
Loran backed up to where Portia and I were standing and fired at the dragon. Two arrows found their mark, but the dragon wasn't slowing down. Since it was bleeding slush instead of blood, it was hard to tell how badly hurt it was.
Frieda cast another flame strike. It enveloped the dragon, only to fizzle harmlessly. Frieda cursed in Talveran. Nearby, Galen, who couldn't understand her foul language and therefore complain about it, took the opportunity to heal himself. Looking much better, he hefted his axe and glared at the dragon. Meanwhile, Kariya cast a bolt of lightning that bounced off the dragon's hide.
The dragon roared and tensed to lunge at us. We were all running low on spells, half of us were wounded, and desperation was running high. It was at this point that I remembered Galen teaching us the draconic word for surrender. “Toirtshuas!” I yelled in full, bardic voice.
Now, I've done a lot of foolish things in my time, but taunting a magic-resistant dragon in the middle of a combat when the distant warriors are all hampered by the icy surface set a whole new standard of foolishness for me. I just had time for the hope that my father never hears about this as the beast flapped its wings and leaped at me.
“Oh dear,” Portia said from behind me as the dragon landed ride in front of me, the breeze from its wings making our cloaks flap behind us. The dragon snarled and sunk its massive teeth into my shoulder. I screamed in a most undignified manner. I caught a glimpse of both paladins standing side by side, staring at me with eyes wide in disbelief. I could almost hear them wondering why the Choir Master was being suicidal.
Portia backed up behind me. I heard her casting, but her attempt to heal me missed its mark as I weaved to dodge the dragon slobbering on top of me.
“Oh dear,” I heard Portia say again.
Oh dear, indeed. There I was, badly hurt, with a dragon breathing down my neck. By the time any of the warriors could reach me, the dragon could have me eviscerated. Tumbling underneath the dragon and fleeing for my foolish hide might have been the smart thing to do, but that would have left Portia open to the dragon's attack. No way was I letting that happen.
So, when the smart thing to do isn't an option, one is forced to do something else. There was, you see, one place from which I could distract the dragon while not being chomped on by those foot-long teeth. I leaped into the air, and somersaulted squarely onto its back. Clinging to the scales of its neck with one hand, I stabbed it with my sword. I looked up triumphantly as white slush oozed down the dragon's neck, only to see that all of my companions were now staring a me in astonishment. In the past, this has not boded well for my continued welfare.
Loran shot two arrows. One brushed the hood of my cloak as it whizzed over my head. The second one struck the dragon in the leg. Frieda cast a spell and threw a ball of flame at the dragon. At least, I think she was throwing it at the dragon. The flame hit my sword arm, scorching my skin before it burned itself out. I resisted the urge to thank Frieda for her help.
Kariya cast magic missiles. They hit the dragon and bounced off harmlessly to hit the cavern's icy walls.
“What is Master Longfellow doing?” Galen said to Rhavin as he hefted his axe and started heading across the ice. There was something in his tone of a desperate hope that maybe there was some clever reason for the bard's seemingly outrageous behavior.
Rhavin just shook his head and grasped his holy symbol. He ran toward us in a blur of motion. He swung his blade, just missing the dragon's underbelly even as it leaped into the air.
This was just getting better and better. I clung desperately to the dragon's scales as it flew a hundred feet up to the cavern ceiling. It snaked its neck around, breathing its frosty breath onto the ceiling just above us. The frost fell down to cover us both, but I was still protected by Portia's magic. No harm done. Well, maybe some harm. The dragon got even more pissed off. It roared angrily. I clung to its neck and wondered why in hell I keep getting myself into messes like this.
Down below, Portia ran over to Frieda and healed her. I could only hope, while Portia was at it, that maybe she could convince the Azkalite to stop setting the wounded bard on fire.
I stabbed the dragon deep in the neck with my blade. I watched the white slush pour from the wound with mixed feelings. I wanted to be quit of the dragon, but it was also my ride. And it was a long way down to the hard, icy floor.
I saw a purple beam of light bounce off of the dragon's scales. I glanced down to see Rhavin standing directly underneath us, looking up anxiously. Loran stepped out of the fall zone and shot two arrows into the dragon's belly. Frieda tossed a ball of fire. I cringed, but the flames bounced off the dragon's wing.
Galen was still moving slowly along the ice, looking up at me in concern. “Master Longfellow,” he yelled, “I advise against this course of action.”
“Well, it's a little late now,” I snapped. What did he want me to do, hop off? This bard can't fly.
“Hold him still, Temmer!” Loran yelled. “We'll get him.” I glared down at the ranger, wishing I had something of little value that I could drop on his head.
Kariya, who'd also stepped away from the impending fall zone, cast magic missiles. I felt the dragon shudder beneath me as the missiles blasted scales loose from its belly.
“Kill it, Master Longfellow!” Frieda bellowed. “Stop fooling around up there!”
The dragon's wings beat, sending up a gust of wind that blew off the hood of my cloak and mussed my hair. I felt a lurch. The dragon spun around. I clung to the dragon's neck even as it dug its claws into the icy ceiling. The wings flapped again, then slammed down on top of me. I felt bones snapping, then nothing.
My knowledge of what happened next comes from Galen, who was more than happy to describe the events at great length. I dropped from the dragon's neck like a stone. Galen was sure that they were about to watch my body be smashed upon the ice like a ripe melon.
Rhavin was the only one close enough to do anything. Heroically, he lunged forward. He grabbed onto me, easing my fall to the ice and falling onto his side as we both slid into the cavern wall.
Galen told me that Portia was shaking her head in dismay, because certain party members' battle tactics were placing a strain on even her impressive healing powers. She couldn't reach me or Rhavin, so she healed Frieda instead. The Azkalite was still badly hurt, and she never stops to heal herself in a fight as long as creating carnage is still an option.
Meanwhile, Loran fired at the beast. One arrow struck the wall, but the second one scraped a shallow cut near the dragon's heart. The creature dissolved into snow and ice...
Which rained down onto Loran, Rhavin and me. All of us were battered, and buried underneath the snow. Galen tells me that I nearly died, and I know he was right because of what I saw while I was unconscious.
It was the same damned vision of heads on pikes that the others had witnessed. I felt myself being sucked toward the evil installation where the impaled heads screamed. I saw the pit of fire below me, and I knew that my soul was doomed to spend eternity in this awful place.
Then I awoke, to the familiar warmth of healing spreading from the tips of Rhavin's fingers. I felt like I'd just been yanked back from the mouth of that fiery pit. Rhavin was holding his shield over us with his other hand, and we were buried beneath a pile of snow.
I blinked at Rhavin in confusion. I was disoriented from the vision, and my mind simply couldn't imagine a scenario that connected falling from the dragon's back to being buried under the snow with Rhavin.
“Dig,” said Rhavin. We dug. The others crowded around and helped us to our feet.
“What the hell happened?” I asked. Portia scurried over and started healing me. It took her two tries to get me back to full health.
I thanked her. Galen approached me then, scowling. He filled me in on what had happened. “Master Longfellow, perhaps doing battle from the back of a dragon is not the best combat strategy.”
Well, he had a point there. There wasn't much I could say to mollify Galen, so I turned to the other paladin while the clerics set about healing everyone.
“Thanks for saving my life. Again.”
Rhavin smiled. “It's all part of the job. We've all taken turns saving each other.”
Portia closed up her pink healing kit and looked at us in concern. “I'm afraid Soltana's gifts for the day are beginning to run out. How much more trouble are we likely to get into today?”
“It's still early,” I said. Honestly, we'd only just had breakfast.
Galen was still glaring at me.
“Would you quit that,” I complained.
He didn't. Galen can be relentless when he gets that paladin disapproval going.
“Okay, okay, I promise not to jump on any more dragons.”
Galen didn't look the slightest bit forgiving.
“So Temmer,” said Portia, “I guess you were right about not being bright enough to retreat.”
I blushed. Man, it's bad when the Soltanite starts lecturing. Galen's scowl had deepened, as if Portia's comment lent weight to his own disapproval.
“Okay, I won't jump on any more constructs, either.”
“So Brother Lietbur,” Frieda interrupted, much to my relief. “What precisely did the dragon say to you? I'm curious as to the events that transpired that led us to attack two dragons.”
“Technically,” Galen said a bit defensively, “we didn't know there were two dragons before we made aggressive moves toward the first one.”
“I thought one dragon was more than enough,” said Frieda.
“And the dragon said...” Kariya prompted.
“When I first spoke to the dragon,” Galen explained, “I told it that we were here to remove the evil installation built by the people who had killed the other dragon. But the beast insisted that it was the only dragon here, and it would know if there were any others nearby.”
The only dragon. Lying beast.
“I described the dead dragon we had found in detail, but the dragon insisted that there were no other dragons. And then...” Galen grimaced. “The wretched creature said that we should leave our gems, our coins, our magic, and... and our females. And leave quickly.”
“What?” I was not the only one voicing outrage at this. “Ew,” I added. What did a dragon want with a human female? It didn't bear thinking about.
“At this point,” Galen said, “I realized that there was no reasoning with this spawn of evil.”
“What would it want our females for?” Frieda asked.
“Ew,” I said.
“Just before we attacked,” Galen added, “The dragon said to me, ´Fool. You would have lived. Now I will eat you all.'” He lifted his chin defiantly. “I ignored that remark.”
“Perhaps,” said Portia with a welcome change of subject, “whoever created these dragon constructs needed the head of the dead dragon in order to cast the spell.”
I grimaced, remembering the vision. I hadn't wanted to talk about it. I mean, bards aren't supposed to have visions. That sort of thing is for priests and paladins. I'm just the choir master.
“I saw a white dragon head on the installation,” I admitted with a sigh. The others looked at me in surprise. “Yeah, I saw it, too.”
Frieda dusted snow from her armor and looked at the exit to the cavern. “Shall we continue?”
We all grimaced.
Frieda frowned at us. “What could possibly lie beyond that is worse than those two dragons?”
“Right,” said Rhavin.
Frieda grinned. By all that's holy, I think the Azkalite was making a joke. Will wonders never cease.
“I realize that we are low on spells,” said Frieda. “But I am concerned about staying in this place, while there is vast, unexplored area just ahead of us.”
“We also don't know if we have a time limit,” I said. The damned vision had left me feeling anxious. What if they finished that horrid installation before we got there? Izmira's minions were beating the crap out of us already. How could we possibly hope to defeat them once the installation was complete, and their power base firmly established?
Frieda pointed out that the clerics' protective magics would only last another hour or so. That settled it. We gathered up our gear and pressed on. I ended up in the back again, beside Galen.
“It's not a particularly wise endeavor to taunt a dragon during combat,” Galen started.
“Ya think?” I snapped.
Galen opened his mouth to retort, but Portia turned around with a frown on her pretty face. “Perhaps, Galen” she said sweetly, “you could find a more opportune time for lecturing Temmer?”
Well, that put an end to the lecturing. For now, at least. Portia sure is handy to have around.
We made our way to the back of the huge, winding cavern. There we found a huge pile of coins. Given how expensive this trip has been, we could hardly pass those up. It would be a damn shame to survive all these dangers only to starve on the way back home from Geston. It took us a while, but we scooped all the treasure into Kariya's box. We found some gems and things, but nothing magical. No magical collars to protect against beheading, or anything like that. No doubt our enemies had already divested the treasure of anything dangerous and would be hurling it at us in the not too distant future.
“If the dragons were constructs, then why did they have treasure?” Portia asked.
Kariya shrugged. “Maybe this was the real dragon's treasure?”
“So, are they making constructs out of every head on the structure?” Kariya asked.
Rhavin shuddered. “I hope not. There were an awful lot of heads on that installation.”
Frieda looked at me. “It's probably a good thing that you didn't die, Master Longfellow.”
“Gee thanks,” I snapped. “Your concern is touching.”
Frieda, oblivious to the sarcasm, nodded.
“I've been thinking about that vision,” Portia said. (Obviously, since she'd been rubbing the back of her neck a lot. Man, that's creepy.) “That feeling of being sucked in... I have misgivings that my ability to raise dead will work in this place.”
Galen turned to me with a scowl.
“Very well,” Frieda said. “Avoid death at all costs.”
“That is usually a wise course of action,” Galen allowed.
“Uh, thanks again, Rhavin,” I said.
Galen turned to Portia. “Would resurrection still work, if the soul has been pulled away?”
Portia thought about it. Despite our usual aversion to their theological discussions, we all listened intently. Sadly, this one could be very important to us.
“Resurrection can always work,” Portia said. “Unless the person has died of natural causes. Old age, for example.”
Galen nodded thoughtfully. “So it can return a soul even if that soul is...” he hesitated.
“Trapped in a fiery pit of evil?” Frieda finished.
“All that is required for resurrection is a portion of the corporeal remains,” Portia said. “That's beyond my power.”
“Notice I didn't say pit of evil fire,” Frieda interrupted.
“There's a difference?” Rhavin teased.
Frieda glared at him. “It's a case of fire being evil, which as everybody knows can not happen, versus evil that has some of the characteristics of fire.”
“There you go,” Kariya said with a grin. “That explains it all.”
Galen and Portia, who'd been trying to discuss something much more serious than the moral condition of fire, blinked at Frieda in puzzlement.
“My own abilities,” Portia continued, “can not bring back anyone who's been turned into an undead creature. That requires the more powerful ability of true resurrection.”
I thought of Teela. True resurrection could bring back the undead. Did that mean there was still hope for Teela? I pushed the thought aside, for now at least. Optimism is valuable for morale, but I've learned that misplaced hope can be a painful burden.
“You do have the ability to Raise Dead?” Rhavin asked Portia.
She nodded. “But we can not raise the dead unless the subject's soul is free and willing to return.”
“Free,” Rhavin said, frowning. We all shuddered, thinking of the fiery pit to which many of us had felt drawn.
“I think ´free' is going to be the problem here,” said Portia.
“So we have to destroy the installation,” Kariya said, “before we can free those souls?”
Galen glared at me.
“Okay, okay, I won't jump on the back of any more monsters.”
Frieda nodded. “I am feeling very positive about our plan to dismantle that evil structure.”
Well, that's what it all came down to, didn't it? We could take down the installation, or face annihilation. The coins were collected now. No more excuse for delay. We closed the box back up and continued on until we came in sight of another damned portcullis. We could see a mechanism down the hallway beyond, but the mechanism was broken.
We all peered at the bars. Some of us might have squeezed through them, but our warriors could not. Sure as hell we weren't going on without them. The portcullis was wide, so we all walked up to it, even Portia. Frieda cast a spell, and the muscles on her arms and legs bulged. We all heaved. With the groaning of rusted metal, the portcullis lifted.
The corridor stretched on for quite a while. We stopped briefly for a cold and dispirited lunch, before moving on until we came to another portcullis, with a second one not ten feet beyond it. Looking through the bars, we could see that this led to an enormous, hexagonal room with a vaulted ceiling. This one was ice free. We could see enormous doors at the far end. There were eight huge pillars in the room, stretching from floor to ceiling. Flames blazed from sconces attached to the pillars, giving off plenty of light for us to see by.
This looked to be some sort of creepy frost giant trophy room. There were stuffed and mounted heads -- heads of ogres, humans, giants and various animals -- lining every available inch of wall surface. Charming, it wasn't. In the center of the room stood three stuffed, reptilian monstrosities. One was a purple, many-legged reptile. The second was also purple and sported an assortment of reptilian heads. The third looked like a giant centipede, except it sported razor sharp spines and a pair of wing-like fins.
“This place was clearly decorated by men,” Portia muttered.
“So, who all thinks these are going to come to life and attack us the minute we step into the room?” I asked. Not one person accused me of being paranoid.
“We could spend the night between the two portcullis?” Frieda suggested.
“That's not a bad idea,” said Loran.
Yes, we were prepared to spend the night behind bars just so we could get a little rest and regroup. The dragon battle hadn't exactly left us all eager for the next fight, and the talk of Portia being unable to raise the dead here hadn't helped matters anyway. Let's face it -- we were more than just a little nervous.
Kariya offered to detect magic. We all liked this idea, but our mage would need to be beyond the first portcullis to get the range she needed. We heaved the first portcullis up and stepped cautiously through.
Immediately, a feeling of uneasiness struck us. Yelping, Ulfie turned and ran back down the corridor.
“Ulfie, come back!” Kariya called.
Ulfie poked his nose around the corner. But he wouldn't come. He just stood there and whined. His ears were back, and his tail was between his legs.
“Ulfie, come here,” Kariya called again.
The poor dog didn't budge. “I'll get him,” I offered. Kariya went with me down the corridor, and I called upon my bardic ability to fascinate the dog.
Ulfie backed away, whining. Gods damn it all. I'd captivated powerful mages and warriors, but the dog was unimpressed.
“You're losing your touch, Temmer,” Kariya teased. We both chuckled. The bard couldn't even charm the friendly dog. This just wasn't our day.
“Sorry guys,” Kariya told the others. “I'll be there in a minute.” Nobody complained. We weren't exactly in a hurry to rush into that trophy room.
Kariya calmed Ulfie down with a lot of petting and soothing nonsense words. This took a while. When Ulfie was calmer, Kariya cast the hut and set him inside.
“You're losing your touch, Temmer,” she teased me.
I laughed. “Ulfie's a tough audience.”
We rejoined the others. Kariya approached the second portcullis, with Rhavin and Frieda standing protectively on either side. Suddenly, all three of them stiffened. Kariya let out a cry of fear I'd never thought to hear from the courageous mage and bolted back down the corridor.
Frieda ran after her. She cast a spell to remove fear. Kariya returned to us, still shaken. Hell. Magical fear. From what source, we knew not.
I played ´Onward Hurvan Soldiers', calling upon my bardic ability to inspire courage in us all. Galen, Kariya and Frieda, hardly ones to be easily cowed, still looked uneasy. What the hell was going on here?
With trembling fingers, Kariya cast a spell to detect magic. “Only the flaming braziers are magical,” she said. So where the hell was the fear coming from?
“I could berserk someone,” Frieda said hopefully.
Rhavin and I smiled, thinking of Morallan. “Maybe later,” Rhavin said to Frieda.
“Is there anything invisible in there?” I asked Kariya.
She cast a spell to let her see such things. “There's a creature,” she whispered. “Behind that far pillar. Oops, it heard me. It just ducked behind the pillar.”
A creature? An invisible, fear-inspiring creature, apparently. Still, it was only one, lonely creature. It couldn't possibly be as bad as two white dragons.
Could it?