IN THE SHADOW OF THE SPIRE
SESSION 13A: AT THE SINKHOLE’S EDGE
December 16th, 2007
The 1st Day of Kadal in the 790th Year of the Seyrunian Dynasty
There was trepidation among those standing at the edge of the sinkhole and surrounded by rotting fungus, sickly slime, and malformed corpses. Tee, in particular, harbored deep misgivings. To her the sinkhole was filled with a horrible foreboding and a sense of nameless doom.
But when the group decided, collectively, that there was no other path to follow, she had no hesitation in leading the way. Agnarr hammered a piton into the rock of the cavern floor and she quickly tied off one of their ropes.
Tee worked her way down the rope, reversing herself in mid-air as she came level with where the bottom of the sinkhole opened up into a larger cavern. Peering over the ceiling’s edge she found herself looking down into a long hall.
The near end of the hall, just beyond where the sinkhole was located, had completely collapsed. In the opposite direction, two enormous troughs — each running at least eighty feet along the length of the hall – were filled to the brim with the insidious olive slime. Beyond these troughs, the hall ended in a short flight of stairs and a set of double doors wrought from iron.
Tee stared into this hall for a long while, but perceived no motion or threat of danger. When she was satisfied, she reversed herself again and completed her climb. Looking up, she motioned for the others to follow.
Tor was next, and he quickly joined Tee below. But Dominic, who was to follow, had no confidence in his ability to manage the long climb. So a crude harness was furnished from another rope, and Agnarr lowered the priest to the hall below.
THE WARCASTER
As Tee was working to release Dominic from his harness, however, Tor suddenly gave a cry and drew his sword: The troughs of ooze were beginning to undulate.
Tee whirled and drew her dragon pistol, blasting at the surface of the trough to her left. As she did so, the motions of the ooze became great waves which sickeningly shuddered their way from one end of the troughs to the other.
Suddenly, at the far end of one of the troughs, a figure emerged – crawling its way out of the ooze. Standing firm and proud, the ooze running in rivulets from his body, was the warcaster Ursaal. With a sickening laugh he conjured forth a sickly, greenish web of monstrous proportions – effectively creating a sanctuary for himself upon the steps at the far end of the chamber.
Elestra, seeing the commotion below, leapt instantly for the rope and hurriedly began climbing down. Agnarr followed her, but neither of them was well-skilled in climbing and they were making slow progress.
Meanwhile, below, Ursaal had begun the casting of a complicated ritual. And new forms were lumbering out of the ooze troughs – animate slimes that closed quickly with Tee and Tor.
Tee called out for help. Ranthir, hearing this, moved close to the edge of the sinkhole and shouted down: “Agnarr! Let go of the rope!”
The barbarian, with complete trust in his heart, instantly released his grip. Ranthir, with a flick of his wrist, released arcane energies that arrested the barbarian’s fall, reducing it to that of a feather.
Within moments, the barbarian alighted safely on the floor below. With a great cry – “FOR THE GLORY!” – he drew his greatsword and placed himself between the nearest ooze and the rapidly backpedaling Tee.
The other ooze, meanwhile, was trying to bullrush Tor into one of the ooze troughs. As Tor neared the trough the ooze within it welled up in a great wave and sought to smash into him, but the warrior nimbly side-stepped both attacks, forcing the two oozes into a compromised position between himself and Agnarr.
But no sooner had they contained the threat of the oozes than Ursaal completed his casting. Four new creatures appeared from nowhere – blubbery masses of animate flesh with multiple mouths filled with sharp, spiny teeth.
These creatures rushed up the hall, clogging the narrow gaps between the troughs and walls. Tor and Agnarr were both forced to turn their attention and deal with them.
Tee, meanwhile, had been trying to blast Ursaal with her dragon pistol. But now her aim was spoiled as the warcaster began to unleash blasts of arcane energy down the length of the hall. Several of these struck Tee in the chest, causing her to stumble back.
Elestra finished climbing down the rope, narrowly ducking under one of the blasts aimed at Tee. She could see that the disorganized ranks of her companions were being overwhelmed by the sheer number of opponents.
Elestra’s communion with the Spirit of the City had opened to her the ways of the vermin and a knowledge of the tongues that might be used to control them. She used it now – sending a high-pierced whistle which brought forth the bats of the cavern and sent them down upon their foes.
Unfortunately, this gambit was quickly reversed upon itself. Ursaal unleashed a magical panic amidst the swarm of bats, sending the mindless creatures back to fall upon Agnarr and Tor in a frenzied rage.
Even more chaos was unleashed only moments later as goblins began to fall from the sinkhole. Itarek and his warriors had tried to clamber down the ropes, but they were apparently completely without experience in such matters. Those who had managed to cling to the ropes were, nonetheless, knocked free by those who followed and fell. Two of them were instantly knocked unconscious by the fall, while the thick bones and skin of Itarek and one of his warriors managed to keep them conscious.
But even as things seemed to be coming completely unhinged, the course of the battle began to turn. The frenzied bats scattered, sweeping back up the sinkhole while screaming their outrage. Several of the flesh-like creatures had already been dispatched by the blades of Tor and Agnarr, and now one of the ooze-creatures was shuddering its way to death. One of Tee’s blasts from the dragon pistol caught Ursaal in his shoulder, sending him stumbling backwards against the wall.
And even as Ursaal lurched back to his feet, Ranthir suddenly appeared – having climbed the ropes with a slow, deliberate calm. Lowering his hand, Ranthir unleashed an arcane blast of his own, catching Ursaal in the chest and leaving a smoldering ruin of scorched cloth and flesh.
With a guttural cry, Ursaal turned and fled – wrenching open the iron doors, fleeing through them, and slamming them shut behind.
With the warcaster gone, the companions and the goblins quickly surrounded and destroyed the remaining ooze creature.
