by Bill Ricardi
We regrouped at the temporary barricade that had been set up by the city watch. At our arrival, Toby handed over the signed declaration from the mayor.
He said, “There you go gentlemen. The mayor, in cooperation with the Adventurer’s Guild, has given us permission to examine these passages, eliminate any threat, and claim bounty on any coin or goods that are not clearly identifiable as items reported stolen in the last year. The Order of the Snow thanks you for your understanding and continued service.”
As if to lend extra weight to his words, every link of chainmail and every square inch of the paladin’s buckler seemed to shine, even in the dim torchlight. Now I remembered why we usually let Toby do the talking.
The older human guard reviewed the papers briefly, but seemed inclined to take the minotaur at his word either way. “O’ course, sir paladin. Might I say, good ta see ya out an’ about again sir. You’ll find th’ site just round the bend, then 30 paces on. Happy ‘unting, sir.”
The three watchmen stood up straight and snapped a smart salute to Toby as he passed. I wasn’t surprised. My friend commanded this level of respect even before his world-saving exploits, and his renown in Ice House had only grown over the years.
The rest of us earned a couple of respectful nods in passing. The cloak of Toby’s esteem even covered his were-cat and orc friends, it seemed.
A Light cantrip on Toby’s shield and another on Tara’s belt buckle gave us a clear view of the passageway. The gray stone floor had been worn smooth by centuries of trickling water. According to the halfling surveyor’s initial research, this area used to serve as drainage for the rest of the cave system. The fact that it dried up somewhat over the past twenty years was one of the primary reasons that the snake meat company was considering making a bid on the larger cave beyond. It all made sense.
But nothing prepared us for the rapid internal climate change we were experiencing. Within ten paces, the air went from cool and slightly damp to warm and bone dry. By the time we reached the mouth of the large cavern in question, I felt like I was baking in the summer sun on the coast of Eastern Hook. Unless there had been a surge of magma just below this area, the heat was completely out of place.
Then again, so was the wall of skulls.
I think it’s safe to say that none of us were prepared for what we saw when we turned to enter the large cavern that was the target of our investigation. A barrier made mostly of skulls stretched across the center of the far side of the chamber. It was impossible to see what was being used as the cement holding the macabre wall together, at least from this range. But the variety of skulls that were on horrific display was just staggering. Everything from the tiniest rat head all the way up to the craniums of some sort of giants had been used as macabre construction material. The majority of them were burnt or bleached, but a few stood out as being more ‘fresh’. The fresh ones seemed to be humanoid in size and shape. The smell of rotting and charred flesh was hair curling.
We slowly made our way towards the bone barrier. Our Light cantrips were casting massive shadows over the far wall as the eight pace wide, two pace high structure blocked our vision. Tara and Toby took up positions at either side of the wall, and then quickly turned the corner with shields raised.
“All clear.”
The rest of us followed our minotaur companions. The wall hadn’t been sheltering anyone or anything at that moment. It simply hid a massive fracture in the earth. Rough, overly large steps of stone had been created within an unnatural looking fissure in the cave floor. Heat emanated from the crack, and with it a faint red glow and the scent of sulphur.
Benno asked, “Did we just find a portal to one of the hells?”
I said, with some certainty, “No. The demons are much deeper.”
Behind me, I heard Ames say the word, “Ceramic.”
We turned to see what the feline was talking about. Sharp claws ran over the surface of the bone wall, focusing on the material holding it all together. The were-cat stated, “This is ceramic. Clay was caked all around and then baked in place, in order to hold all of these skulls. Something incredibly hot and somewhat portable made this.”
Grimly, I turned away from the wall to look down at the primitive stairway, built with something the size of minotaurs in mind rather than puny orcs. I said, “We need to go down there.”
Tara nodded slowly. “When the reports mentioned the surges of heat, I prayed for the blessing of Elemental Resistance. But I can only cover two people.”
Toby said, without hesitation, “Yourself and Ames.”
The cleric and rogue protested, but Toby was having none of it.
“Love, if you fall, our ability to recover from wounds is severely hampered. And Ames… you’re in the front line and covered in fur. Be serious, of course you need it more than the rest of us.”
The feline grit their teeth as if biting back a retort, but couldn’t argue with the big paladin’s wisdom.
Tara sighed, but acquiesced. “I’ll apply the blessing when we get a hint of something up ahead.”
The five of us made our way down the steps. Tara and Toby could accomplish this standing, while the rest of us had to use hands, legs, and butts as in if we were three years old and using stairs for the first time.
The cavern below was twisted, radiant. There was certainly enough headroom for everyone. Whatever force or effort was used to make this passageway, one could not call it ‘subtle’. It was easily four paces wide and three high at all times, with sections that seemed to simply melt away into little alcoves and pits. Places where the wall was more pitted and deformed were the greatest sources of heat. Something was behind these walls; within them. Something with an affinity for fire.
Ames said, “There’s movement up ahead. I’m hearing it above a very slight background noise.”
Tara sounded irritated, voice significantly raised as if having to speak over something, “Slight? It’s damn near deafening.”
Toby was nodding, eyes squinted to slits as if he might start crying at any time. He said, “Like screaming bone sliding over moaning rock. I can’t hear myself think.”
Ames glanced over at the rest of the family. The were-cat admitted, “It’s not nearly so loud for me.”
I said, “Let’s move. No need to expose ourselves for longer than necessary.”
We pushed deeper into the twisted furnace of tunnels, our minotaurs looking less and less happy with each minute that passed. They didn’t need to tell us that we were spiraling down; the declines were unsubtle at times, causing our smaller party members to slide somewhat as we descended.
Benno stopped us as we were about to round the next bend. He said, “Something is cooking. Do you smell that?”
Ames confirmed it, “Weapons ready.”
The were-cat drew their well polished hand crossbow and Tara took up her notched cudgel. Then I watched the process that comforted me the most. Toby rolled his massive shoulders, then craned his beefy neck to one side until it made a faint popping sound. Then the Axe of McGrondle was unslung from my large friend’s back. Knowing that the impeccably well armed and armored minotaur was on our side was always a huge morale boost.
Tara touched Ames’ shoulder and started murmuring her prayer. There was no visible aura, but clearly some sort of sensation went through the feline: My mate’s fur started to puff out and stand on end. The same happened for Tara upon the self-application of the blessing, though with her drastically shortened fur it was harder to see. Thusly prepared, we rounded the corner with bad intentions.
What I saw wasn’t even close to one of the scenarios that I had imagined.
Instead of crazed cultists, demonic servitors, or fire elementals, there were giants. But not the giants that one might read about in lore. They were mutated, deformed. Perhaps cursed. These creatures were red skinned, looking like they were covered in a series of large infected blisters. Each giant sported a single eye in the center of their heads. Their hands and feet sported a seemin
gly random number of digits between three and six.
And they were cooking one of their own.
It wasn’t even as dignified or formal as a stew pot. The four remaining creatures had simply dug into a wall to expose whatever was causing this intense heat, and then wedged their former-companion into the crack. Parts were torn from the unfortunate (but tender) creature as his brethren became peckish. Evidence of the cannibalistic feasting was strewn all over the cavern floor.
“Cyclopes.” said Benno. Apparently his studies had paid off. It didn’t seem like any of the rest of us knew what we were facing.
Ames asked, “Suggestions?”
“Uhhh, they look like fire cyclopes so… don’t use fire?”
Then again, maybe education was overrated.
I didn’t have time to ponder the merits of my son’s University education. The four deformed giants charged at our front line. Two of them held massive bone clubs, while the other two preferred bare fists. I wasn’t sure that their choice of weapon really mattered. At Toby’s height plus half again, they could do severe damage or even crush us with any solid blow. As the mutants closed, an additional wave of oppressive heat flooded the area. Breathing was difficult now, the air so hot as to be painful.
Ames fired the hand crossbow, and caught the unarmed lead giant in the left shoulder. It wasn’t a telling wound, but it did manage to stagger the giants’ charge somewhat, allowing us to adjust our tactics. Ames let the crossbow dangle from its strap, instead drawing that somewhat battered short sword for the inevitable melee.
I felt the touch of Benno’s fingertips on my wrist. We had our own language for situations like this, one only possible because of the near-instantaneous nature of his psychic communication. A series of short and what would otherwise be nonsensical sounds traveled between our minds. And with that I knew his targets, and communicated my ability to support him. In unison, our palms were held out and we were chanting.
Tara and Ames shifted over to face the unarmed fire cyclopes. With the Elemental Resistance blessing, they wouldn’t be scalded by the touch of the giants, and could get in close without suffering burns. Toby forced one of the two club wielding creatures to face him. The last fire cyclops came around wide, attempting to charge the two pesky orcs making strange noises.
My Force Bolt struck a fraction of a second before Benno’s. With such a large target coming right at me, I could hardly miss the creature’s knee. While still absorbing that impact, Benno’s own Force Bolt struck the cyclops’ opposite ankle. There was a faint cracking sound before we were nearly deafened by the creature’s pained bellow. It fell gracelessly, one ankle twisting at an unnatural angle as our coordinated attack took it down.
Within our front line, Ames was faring best. I had never seen the feline be quite so aggressively mobile. Rather than dance about and poke at the swinging fists of their opponent, my mate sought to land far more solid blows. After a nimble dodge to the left that was partnered with a painful slash across the giant’s knuckles, the were-cat dove forward. Coming up from their acrobatic roll, Ames stabbed upward, short sword piercing the thigh muscles of the cyclops. It attempted to sit on the cat, but the feline was already moving to the outside, leaving a gruesome open wound along the back of the giant’s leg.
Tara wasn’t faring as well. She seemed distracted. The cyclops’ fist battered against her large shield, leaving the minotaur bruised and winded. But the aggression was met with equal force. As tears of rage coursed down the cleric’s cheeks, she smashed at the larger creature’s wrist and forearm, bashing away like a crazed carpenter. The result was that both of them had numb arms with painful welts and bruises.
Toby was also wearing a wet mask of rage, but his encounter was far more surgical. The giant bone club met the Axe of McGrondle and came to a swift stop. Deep grooves quickly accumulated in the dry white femur. The fire cyclops screamed in frustration and surged forward, flailing at Toby’s axe and buckler. The only actual damage done was by proximity: That oppressive heat was scalding the minotaur’s flesh and shriveling his golden brown fur.
The downed cyclops chose me as the target for his rage, scrambling forward on hands and knees with alarming strength and fortitude. This was good news for Benno, who was able to move to the far right where the cyclops-roast was cooking away. He now had full view of the battlefield and starting casting an involved spell to help our friends. I on the other hand only had time to summon my Invisible Shield before the creature thrust that club at me, extending its arm fully to try to catch me with the very tip. It impacted my shield and caused me to tumble backwards. That was fine. Backwards seemed like a good direction when faced with over a ton of screaming, slavering fire cyclops crawling towards you like some kind of night terror.
I was able to glance over and see that Ames was still picking apart the seated cyclops with efficiency. An outsider might think that the half dozen slashes and shallow stabs driven into the flailing creature was some kind of feline cruelty; playing with one’s food as it were. But Ames was calculating every swift lunge and retaliatory riposte. The cat would kill the giant when it was overwhelmed by pain and blood loss, and not take any stupid risks in the meantime.
As I continued to backpedal quickly, I heard a pained cry from our cleric. In her fervor, the minotaur left herself open and took a blow to her weapon arm. The priest’s armor was precious little protection. Tara’s cudgel clattered to the ground, the fingers of her broken arm unable to grasp it any longer. She turned, profile hidden defensively behind that broad tower shield.
The next cry that echoed through the chamber was far more monstrous. Benno learned from many of the best combat mages on Panos, and that included Will. While I sometimes mocked the size of my son’s travel spellbook, easily twice as heavy as mine despite my knowledge of advanced rituals, I couldn’t fault his spell selection. A portal opened above Toby’s foe, and a rain of crushing, freezing hailstones smashed into the face and shoulders of the fire cyclops. It was as in if the mutant had been struck by acid, clubs, and daggers all at the same time. Toby quickly took advantage of the creature’s pain, and planted the Axe of McGrondle deep into its breastbone. The cyclops’ giant heart deflated, and it fell lifelessly to the cave floor.
I heard Ames cry, “Help Tara!” as I backed out of the chamber. I was forced into the tunnel that led us here, due to the relentless pursuit of the giant that Benno and I knocked over. As the scrabbling creature continued to chase me down, its bulk blocking re-entry to the larger cavern, I added a personal request to my mate’s instructions, “And then help me!”
When the fire cyclops dropped its club, I felt that I had caught a break. It was probably succumbing to its pain, I thought. Instead, the cyclops braced against the walls and pulled itself up. My heart sank when I saw it supporting its own massive bulk on that twisted ankle. There was no single spell that I would be able to get off to kill the beast.
I ran.
Letting my Invisible Shield dissipate, I shamelessly turned tail and bolted up the twisty passageway. I swore that I felt the ground shaking as the beast behind me half limped, half ran after the tiny orc that had caused it so much pain. Without the Light spells, the caves were illuminated only by that dim, ominous red glow. My arms and legs were pumping furiously. Only the fire cyclops’ wrenched ankle allowed me to stay a step ahead of it, as it was unable to corner as tightly as I could, despite having a size and speed advantage.
But my heart sank when I remembered what was up ahead. Stairs. Ridiculously large stairs. I wouldn’t make it up two of the steps before being crushed under the burning weight of the cyclops.
I made a desperate but logical decision. After making a tight right turn that would have taken me into the final hallway leading up to the stairs, I took a sudden left while I was still out of sight. I knew that the passage which I chose was a shallow dead end, but at least it would give me one last chance. I put my back to the wall and started blind-casting, hoping that my target would enter my line of s
ight before the incantation was done, but not soon enough to crush me before I finished.
My timing was good. The guts just started to melt in my hand as the fire cyclops rounded the corner, glanced first towards the stairs, and then turned left to spot me. My Acid Bolts rained in on the creature’s neck and chest, opening up fresh, sizzling wounds that made the giant bellow. It slipped and fell from the pain. But as I expected, it lived. I reached into my component pouch and started my next incantation, knowing that it would be too late unless the creature fell or blacked out.
I saw a blur of reddish-white high in my vision, and I briefly thought that it was that fabled white light that you were supposed to walk towards when you died. It took me a moment to register Ames, in mid flight due to the Ring of Leaping. The cat’s short sword sunk deep into the junction of the fire cyclops’ neck and skull, destroying its medulla oblongata. It collapsed, quite dead. With its lifeforce extinguished, so was the fire cyclops’ supernatural heat radiation. In an instant, I’d been saved.
It all happened so fast that I didn’t have time to abort my spell. I was probably too shocked to stop myself even if I had an extra split second. The Spider’s Web shot from my quivering green hands, gluing Ames to the fallen giant. I felt the drain on my intellect particularly keenly, as it was aided by my panic, relief, and embarrassment.
My mate looked less than impressed.
“Sorry, sorry.”
I used my dagger to free the were-cat’s sword paw, and then the two of us cut the feline loose. We ran back down the passage to check on our friends. After Ames dispatched their foe it was three members of our party up against a single battered giant. An almost certain victory, but it was best to be sure.
We arrived to see Toby preparing to perform the Laying of Hands on Tara. Benno was keeping watch over the chamber’s exit on the far side of the room. My son looked anxious. Our reemergence seemed to relieve some of that anxiety, but he still cast the occasional worried glance towards the minotaurs.