The Dark Fellowship
A Crucial Vulnerability
Chapter Two
The immense cavern contained a city of hundreds, thousands if one bothered to include those from the 'slave races'. Both stalagmites stabbing out of the cavern floor and stalactites hanging from the rock 'sky' were chiseled into elegant but sinister fortresses, sculpted as much by magic as by the labour of chattel. Those within concerned themselves as much, if not more, with the possibility of attack from their neighbours as with a threat from beyond their city. This was Veldrinor, city of the dark elves, the drow.
Within one of these sinister palaces, sat and brooded Matron Mala Draristra, a respected and feared Matron Mother in the city. Near the middle of her sixth century she still held on to the beauty of youth; her eyes a fiery red, platinum bands the shape of striking serpents wrapped around both slender arms.
Mala turned and looked out the window to her left. In the distance she saw a ruined manor of a drow family she had brought down to enhance the status of her own. House Grallmhyr had ruled among the great houses for millennia, outliving more than a few lesser families that attempted to rise by seeing its eradication when it appeared at its most vulnerable. But then its best and brightest had set out to plunder the treasures of the vault of a wizard on the surface world- and failed to return. When word from her spies reached Matron Mala that the warriors, clerics and a promising wizard sent on the expedition were weeks overdue, she knew they would not be coming back- and seized the opportunity. Now House Grallmhyr was barely a memory, while House Draristra had become a rising star.
It should have been enough. Yet when her agents found the vault the enemy expedition had found, they were unable to account for all of the participants. Communing with her goddess the dread spider queen had told her all but the wizard had died in that chamber; victims of his treachery. Where he had gone since, none knew.
This was a problem. Bad enough the mage had engineered the deaths of his sisters and servants and evidently deserted his people, but as the survivor of a slaughtered drow house, an accusation from him before the rest of the city could damn the family responsible for the attack. Even if he cared nothing for vengeance, there was the danger another house would seek him out and use his testimony against Draristra, either to advance further up or protect its position higher above.
Seeing a flash of light from the corner of her eye Mala reeled, drawing out a whip whose multiple lashes ended in live, venomous serpents. A foot above the floor hovered a puny biped with leathery wings and a tail capped with a sharp stinger. It wore a sickening grin and stank of sulphurous fumes.
"One day your carelessness will get you killed, Hashur," Mala threatened the imp.
Hashur shrugged, "I thought you want to hear the answers to your inquiries sooner than later, perhaps I should return another - "
"No!" Mala exclaimed, "You've finally found the wizard?"
"I have," Hashur affirmed. He told her of Shoutanei's likeness on wanted posters in the desert city Balaiassi alongside a bugbear and someone who might be human, how they returned alive from the worst of the wastelands alongside some strange insect-creature and successfully claimed a small fortress on the surface world.
"They're not above base crimes such as tomb robbing," the imp continued, "Yet neither are they averse to honest mercenary work- both the local king and a large and influential church have hired the four to complete missions they were reluctant to endanger their own people on. During the mission for the church the wizard dealt the final blow to a colossal spider called the devourer of souls."
Mala flinched at that. The devourer of souls was a favored 'pet' of her goddess Lolth, last she had heard the Spider Queen had left it in the custody of a demon lord who promised the Devourer would be well fed with the deaths of great heroes. She was unsure which bothered her more- whether this Shoutanei and his 'allies' would dare to harm such a blessed creature, or that they had the strength to succeed in killing it.
"You know where this fortress of theirs is?" she demanded, "What defenses it has?"
Hashur gave her what information he had for both questions. Mala marked it all down, and bade her imp servant return to the surface and continue monitoring the wizard and his unlikely companions.
In the library named for the first King Alsadar, Garadon sought to educate himself about the dwarf baron named Baelmisar. Though none confronted him or showed any overt hostility, he was not deaf, and heard the whispers around him.
"What kind of man keeps company with monsters?" one said- it took much effort to keep Garadon from answering an asexual shapeshifter only appearing to be a man.
"I heard his drow friend turned the company of the Black Moon into werewolves."
"I saw him in a tavern in Corthac buying drinks for everyone with coins no one recognized, then talk of some magic place where more treasure could be found waiting to be claimed- only nobody who followed his instructions has come back from it!"
Finally, a clerk approached him and politely but nervously asked if Garadon was looking for any information in particular. He told her he was interested in lore concerning Baelmisar, particularly any maps that might indicate his final resting place.
The clerk relaxed a little- as if she feared he was seeking to learn how to bring about the end of the world- and answered, "I do not know of such records- but then our archives are rather incomplete concerning such locations in other lands.
"You could inquire at the dwarfholds themselves but I would advise against that- if they heard a human asking about where one of their lords was buried they might assume him to be a tomb robber. I would suggest you consult the libraries in Truscia."
"I've been to Truscia recently," Garadon replied.
That evening Garadon returned and told Kezreck and Path-Chak that he would have to seek the information they desired in Truscia. Eager to see what booty might be interred with a dwarf baron, and ignoring Path-Chak's argument that if Baelmisar's crown was taken from his tomb it was likely any other treasures were as well Kezreck headed to the library expecting Shoutanei to be pondering the mural.
Though he sat in the library, the wizard paid no attention to the mural, instead he stared at two volumes before him- the spellbook he stole off the undead wizard and a formerly blank volume in which he recorded some of the spells from the former that he had successfully decoded. He didn't seem to hear the first two times Kezreck called his name; on the third he finally looked to the bugbear it was obvious he was still in the very uncharacteristic funk he'd been in since their encounter with the specters.
"Hey there- you alright?" Kezreck asked.
"Am I alright?" Shoutanei repeated, "Odd question, seeing as it was you who came to harm instead of me."
"This again?" Kezreck muttered, "Look, it's no big deal - "
"It's a very big deal," Shoutanei argued, "You charged toward an enemy none of us were prepared for and it almost got you killed! The only one in this keep- in this company with an enchanted weapon is me and of all of us I'm the least qualified for any fighting in close quarters."
"Yeah but that scroll you cast on Garadon's sword," Kezreck pointed out, "Didn't you say the same spell was in that dead-thing's spellbook? That you translated it?"
"Yes," Shoutanei began to answer, "But it only enchants one weapon per casting, and even then it only lasts for an hour and that's if I'm concentrating on it the whole hour- what if while I'm focused on Garadon's blade something that needs my attention – "
"OK, ok, I get it," Kezreck finally conceded, "We're vulnerable- but the way I see things we can either mope about this problem, or figure out what to do about it."
Shoutanei exhaled in relief that the bugbear finally heeded his point, then began to ponder the issue, "It's not easy to craft magic weapons in large numbers- even back in Veldrinor arms merchants never had more than a few enchanted blades to sell."
Kezreck nodded at this, "What about making our own- or enchanting the weapons we already got? Could you do that?"
"Possibly," Shoutanei considered the idea, "But it would take days, if not weeks to enchant one weapon- not to mention how much coin's worth of resources needed. Don't forget how much of our gains we spend just on our daily needs."
Kezreck nodded and mulled these words for a moment before saying, "Ok- you work out what you need- in time and these- resources. I'll stop by the crypt we visited and grab the weapons our zombie friends left on the floor, we can work on them if you'd rather not risk damaging the ones we already got. And as for expenses, we should have them covered once we visit Baron Baelmisar."
Shoutanei rolled his eyes at the goblinoid's obsession, "You're really fixated on finding and robbing that dwarf's tomb aren't you?"
"Well we got his crown, I don't like leaving tasks undone," Kezreck answered.
Garadon rode to Truscia, attracting much less attention without the others with him. His search there proved much more productive, with access to many records concerning the baron Baelmisar as well as maps that showed both the crypt's likely location in the dwarfholds and where they lay in relation to the keep.
He couldn't remove any of these records or maps from the library of course, but some of the gems the cathedral of Amaedea paid his party for their investigation into the disappearance of its clerics were enough to make it worth a clerk's while to draw up copies. By the time he returned to the keep Shoutanei had marked up a rough estimate of what he would need to enchant one melee weapon.
"Perhaps Kezreck's mace should be enchanted first," Shoutanei quipped, "Seeing as he likes to charge blindly into trouble."
"Hey, someone's got to stay between the enemy and you," the bugbear snapped back, "A dark elf is still a squishy elf."
In drow sign language Shoutanei expressed some very rude speculations concerning Kezreck's mother. Before things could escalate from there Garadon unfurled the copied maps of the territory where the dwarf baron was said to be interred.
"I suppose its better I bring this up now," Shoutanei started, "Once the four of us show up in dwarf country they're going to watch us like hawks, if not kill us on sight," he looked up at Kezreck, "Even should we find this crypt, just how do you plan on getting in, out and back to the keep with the baron's treasures under their vigilant gaze?"
"I thought about that," Kezreck smiled smugly, "And I decided we could use help."
The four waited at the end of the tunnel that led into the keep's former wine cellar. After a couple hours the help Kezreck spoke of emerged from another cavern mouth.
Two approached, at the lead was a tall humanoid covered in shaggy white fur with a face more bear-like than Kezreck. The creature, from a race called Quaggoths, wore studded leather armor, a shortsword hug at his hip and he clutched a light crossbow in his hand. Following him was a female duergar, or grey dwarf. Like the rest of her kin her grey-skinned scalp was devoid of any hair. She was garbed in splint mail crafted from mithral, strong enough to protect but light enough not to hinder attempts at stealth; in her hands she carried a sort of heavy hammer known as a maul.
Shoutanei recognized the two, and turned to Kezreck, "Corrag and Weltha?"
"I reached out to them a few days ago," Kezreck answered, "Seeing as we killed the giant that took both of them prisoner they decided to help us, and even agreed to a reduced share of the spoils as thanks."
Weltha lifted her maul reverently, "The chosen of Tharguerarn honour their debts."
Those words alarmed Shoutanei, looking more closely he saw her hammer was forged of adamantine and adorned with symbols holy to a particular grey dwarf god.
"You're a cleric," he hissed. Shoutanei had many memories of a life under priestesses, none of them pleasant; were he aware of her vocation he very likely would have chosen to let the formorian drag her and Corrag off to their doom.
"What of it?" Weltha snarled.
Kezreck turned to the drow, "You didn't think something was up when you saw her grow to nine feet tall in a second?"
"All grey dwarves can do that," Shoutanei told him. Kezreck's eyes bulged at this statement, and he looked to Weltha for confirmation.
She nodded, "We can also do this," she abruptly vanished, "For a time at least," her voice sounded from where she disappeared, then she dispelled the invisibility.
"Yes, we're all impressed," Garadon interrupted, then said to Shoutanei, "And I think it's a little counter productive to let bad memories ruin a possibly profitable alliance."
Shoutanei nodded reluctantly before asking Corrag, "Kezreck thinks you can help us reach Baelmisar's crypt unnoticed- how?"
"There's a large, extensive cavern beneath the border of the land where your keep was built and the high hills claimed by the dwarves," Corrag answered, "Near its end on your side of the border is a passage leading up to a cave well hidden in a hill, it should be wide and high enough to accommodate you and your mounts, as both drow and duergar cavalry have used it to raid the surface world on different occasions."
Kezreck turned to ask Shoutanei what creatures from underground could be ridden, anticipating the question the dark elf said, "The drow often domesticate large lizards to ride; I'm told the duergar favor giant tarantulas called steeders."
Shoutanei however had a different question and looked to Corrag, "What about the rest of this pocket under these nations?"
"Flat terrain and wide open space," Corrag assured.
"And it stretches far enough under the hills to reach where we desire?"
"It might," Corrag said, "Of course it would help to be sure if we knew where the location is on the surface."
Garadon unfurled the copy of the map he acquired from the Truscia library on the cavern floor; as darkvision could not distinguish colors Shoutanei cast a continual light cantrip to make reading the map easier.
The quaggoth and duergar studied the map intently. Weltha saw where the crypt of Baelmisar was marked on the map.
Shoutanei saw her frown and asked, "What's wrong?"
"The cavern of which Corrag spoke- it ends west of where this tomb was placed," She placed her finger down at the spot where the cavern terminated.
Kezreck looked to see the distance between her finger and the tomb's marking then looked to the map's scale, "It's not too far, a few hundred feet as the crow flies. As long as we keep a straight line in the right direction it shouldn't be too much trouble to dig the rest of the way there."
"What kind of terrain would we be digging through?" Garadon asked Corrag.
"At an angle up toward the crypt, you'd have to get through about ten feet of hard rock," Corrag estimated, but past that it should be soft soil the rest of the way."
"And where would we put all that soil?" the wizard brought up.
"A deep, wide crevasse stretches along the southern edge of the cavern," Weltha answered, "We could dump the dirt in it, assuming nothing lives at the bottom."
Shoutanei looked to Kezreck, "You sure all this is worth it? All that digging for potentially nothing? I'm sorry but I agree with Path-Chak on this- if Darrak found the baron's crown buried with those adventurers, they probably stole it, and likely anything else that might have been interred with Baelmisar."
"You heard his ghost, he didn't find much other than the crown," Kezreck pointed out.
"Because they probably fenced the rest and what wasn't pissed away on fine wine and good living went into building that fancy crypt!" Shoutanei countered.
"What's the worst that could happen?" Kezreck started, "If I'm wrong, we all get a little exercise. But if I'm right, you could walk away with more than enough to fund your work on crafting magic weapons for the rest of us."
"And that's assuming we don't find some we can use already," Garadon pointed out.
Both Corrag and Weltha sided with him, looking to the thri-kreen Shoutanei was surprised to see even Path-Chak nod in agreement.
"Fine," Shoutanei finally assented, pointing to Kezreck he added, "But you're doing the bulk of the digging," then addressing all the others, "I suggest we make whatever preparations are needed then get some sleep. Corrag, you'll have to guide us to this passage you insist can accommodate us and our mounts, we'll set aside sleeping quarters for you and Weltha- unless you two would rather share – "
"Separate quarters will do just fine," Corrag answered; turning to Weltha he asked, "Honestly, why do people always make that assumption about us?"
Back in her manse in the underground city of Veldrinor Matron Mala listened as her little spy informed her on the venture Shoutanei and his allies were about to undertake.
Hashur saw her sinister smile, he asked "Who will you send to punish them?"
"No need to gamble any of my own soldiers," Mala grinned, "I know of a team more qualified to bring about their retribution- the Hand of Vengeance will crush them all…"