14th Day of Goodmonth, 565 CY
Drachensgrab Hills, The Pomarj
Elrohir ran his hand along the wall, and then looked at the rest of his team.
"We're almost there. Minutes now, rather than hours."
The crude mosaic of several life-sized noble figures that the ranger's gauntleted hand rested on was nothing remarkable in itself; age had destroyed most of it, and what could still be seen revealed an unexceptional artist's hand. But it was the very fact of its existence that was important.
The cavern tunnel that the party was traveling down now had finished walls. Ill-fitting, cracked tiles composed the floor, and wooden crossbeams in varying stages of decomposition were braced every ten feet. Argo examined one of them.
"This isn't dry rot," the big ranger said softly. "We're not right by the entrance, but close enough for some moist air to get in here."
"I wonder who those people are." Talass mused, indicating the mosaic.
"I'd guess King Olarek and his court at Suderham," Nesco replied.
"Who in Boccob's name is that?" Zantac queried, pointing at a figure standing slightly off to one side.
As best as could still be determined, the man in question was wearing brown robes embroidered with gold and gemstones, creating an image of a coiled, wingless dragon. A bronzed skull of a small dragon served as a helm, obscuring his face. In his hand was what looked like a miner's pick.
The party looked at Nesco, but she could only shrug.
No one expected the samurai to speak up at this point, but he did.
"Shugenja. Servant of Dao Rung- Earth Dragon."
The others turned to him in astonishment.
"Are you certain, Tojo?" Elrohir eventually asked. "I know we've discussed the possibility that the Earth Dragon of Nippon and this one are-"
"They are same, Errohir-san," the samurai uncharacteristically interrupted.
"What does that mean for us, Tojo?" asked Argo.
Tojo hesitated so long before replying that Elrohir would have told him to forget it, but the samurai's eyes never left Bigfellow's face.
At length, one dark eyebrow lifted skyward, and a faint smile creased his lips.
"It mean big trouber for us, Argo-san."
Argo breathed a sigh of relief and wiped his brow. "I was worried it might be something new."
The group continued to walk down the ten foot-wide corridor. Every so often, it would turn at a ninety-degree angle, but there was nothing beyond but more corridor.
"I wonder when all this was first carved out," Talass asked.
Several of the others were startled out of their personal reveries. It was the first anyone had spoken in over five minutes.
Nesco calculated in her head. "Assuming that mosaic dates back to that time, I'd say about fifty or sixty years ago."
Talass didn't seem to immediately accept that. "Why assume that? I've known mosaics or paintings created and displayed long after construction."
"It'd have to have been. Suderham was sacked by the humanoids after Olaek was slain on the field of battle. There'd have been no one left afterwards to create it."
Ahead of her, Cygnus suddenly stopped, causing Nesco to nearly collide with him.
"Then what exactly are we expecting to find at the end of all this?" Cygnus interjected, his voice noticeably louder than the others and flooded with irritation.
"My guess is the Slave Lords have rebuilt a section of the city, and are now using it as their headquarters," Aslan answered, his voice quiet and his light blue eyes fixed firmly on the tall wizard. "And from this point on, Cygnus, I'd keep a damper on that temper of yours. We're making enough of a clankfest as it is with all our armor."
The Aardian mage glared back at the paladin and crossed his arms, but when he replied it was in an equally low tone. "We haven't seen anything in over a day, Aslan. What makes you think enemies are just around the next corner?"
Aslan opened his mouth, but Argo jumped in first. "Maybe not around the next corner Cygnus, but it won't be long before you turn one and find yourself face-to-face with some more of our furry friends, and I promise you they won't be as surprised as you will."
"More gnolls?" Cygnus frowned. "How do you know?"
Bigfellow smiled in response and tapped the side of his nose with his finger.
Like Elrohir said, "the nose gnolls."
"Light."
Elrohir's declaration, while dramatic, was unnecessary. The party, having just followed the corridor around yet another turn, this one to the left, immediately saw faint glimmers of illumination coming from behind the first door they had seen in this entire labyrinth.
The corridor finally ended about fifty feet from where the group currently stood. The door was situated, not at the corridor's end, but just next to it on the corridor's right side. The party slowly moved forward until they were by the door. Elrohir insisted upon checking the corridor's end and the wall opposite the door first for any trace of a secret door, upon the supposition that the visible door might be a fake, or worse, a trap. These examinations proved negative.
"Well, now what?" asked Cygnus.
"We scout ahead," Elrohir replied without hesitation before turning to his friend standing next to him. "Am I right in thinking a fly could fit under the gap in this door, Aslan?"
The paladin regarded his team leader for a moment, and then glanced at the bottom of the wooden door before them.
"Let's find out," he said.
The others had only a glimpse of a dark speck flying down to the floor and vanishing into whatever lay on the other side.
Elrohir didn't know how long he had been tapping his foot before a smirk from Argo made him stop.
"He should have been back by now," he stated, somewhat defensively.
"It's only been a few minutes, Elrohir," Argo said reassuringly. "Knowing Aslan, he probably changed back to his human form to share his philosophy of truth and righteousness with them. They should all be dead of boredom by now."
Nesco didn't seem reassured. "I think we should just burst through. If something has happened to Aslan, every moment we delay brings-"
"Asran return."
The words had barely left Tojo's lips when their paladin friend was once again standing with them, seemingly none the worse for wear.
"Well," he grimaced after taking a deep breath, "that was interesting."
"Glad you're all right, Aslan," Elrohir nodded. "Let's have it."
"There are gnolls in there, all right. It's a much bigger room than I was expecting, perhaps two hundred feet to the far end, and maybe sixty wide. I'm not sure; I think it's an audience chamber of some kind. There are continual flames at both ends and outlining two sets of pillars running down the center, but the sides are in shadow."
"How many gnolls?" Talass asked.
"Nineteen, as best I could tell," the paladin reported. "One each by six of the pillars. They're expecting us, all right. They've all got crossbows loaded and aimed right at this door. There's a large throne at the far end; six gnolls with halberds to one side, and six gnoll ghouls on the other."
"Ghouls?" repeated Talass incredulously.
"Isn't that your specialty, my good lady?" inquired Argo with a faint smile.
Talass frowned, however. "I've known gnoll priests to command ghouls, but not when working with their living brethren. They don't like them any more than we do."
"That's eighteen, Aslan," Zantac cut in. "Where's the last one?"
The paladin grimaced again. "Sitting on the throne; armored up and holding a triple-headed flail in his hand." He shook his head. "Gnolls are giants by my book in any case, but that one on the throne would have to clear eight feet if he stood up. And there's one more thing."
Cygnus sighed. "There always is."
Aslan ignored him. "A large reptile of some sort; about the size of a small pony. I've never seen the like before. It's got a bony carapace on its back, somewhat like a tortoise, but the legs are longer and its tail ends in a kind of boney club."
"Intelligent?" Elrohir inquired, his right hand going unconsciously to Gokasillion's hilt. The paladin, however, shook his head.
"I don't think so. A guardian creature of some kind, I'd say."
There was a silence while all of this was digested.
"So what's the plan, oh fearless leader?" Argo eventually inquired. "We rush inside, kill everyone, grab the swag and ride off into the sunset with any number of nubile yet exceedingly grateful maidens held prisoner within?"
"Does Caroline know you talk like that when she's not around?" the paladin snapped at the big ranger before Elrohir could reply. Argo turned to face him, his features hardening.
"As a matter of fact, she does, Aslan. My wife knows me. She takes me as I am, and she loves me the same way. Wonderful thing, love is. You should try it sometime."
Aslan pinched his lips, and Elrohir saw his fist clench in anger once before relaxing. When the paladin replied though, he changed the subject, jerking a thumb towards the door.
"That's not the door of your cabin, Argo Bigfellow Junior, and Caroline is not inside there, waiting to serve you a hot dinner. I don't consider any combat to be a stroll through green fields, let alone nineteen gnolls and some monster. And I have no intention of fighting alongside anyone who doesn't take this as seriously as I do!"
He was still speaking to Argo, but Aslan's glance suddenly went to Nesco.
"I've already seen enough death. I won't see any more. Not if I can help it."
A short but embarrassed silence ensued. Nesco, unable to face anyone's eyes upon her, stared down at the ground, while the others waited for this latest Aslan/Argo brushfire to burn itself out.
Argo smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Tell me that you think my joking means I'm not as serious about this as you are, Aslan. Look into my eyes and tell me that."
And Aslan did indeed stare into the big ranger's auburn eyes, but he couldn't seem to find a satisfactory answer there. After a few seconds, the paladin dropped the matter with a sigh.
"I swear by the fields of Asgard; I can't figure you out, Argo."
This was apparently the type of response Bigfellow had been hoping for. Argo allowed his smile to suffuse his whole face. "When I do, you'll be the second to know, my friend." He then turned to their party leader, a somber expression back in place. "Sorry for my flippancy before, Elrohir. Seriously- what is the plan?"
"Aslan and I will open the front door, rush in and engage that beast at sword point," Elrohir replied, unhooking his shield from his back and handing his longbow and quiver to his fellow ranger. "Argo, you follow behind and start taking out those gnoll snipers. Talass, proceed as you think best until you can get close enough to those ghouls to turn them, but don't stray too far from the rest of us. Cygnus, Zantac- shine up now if you need to. You'll probably wind up taking on that head gnoll on the throne. Stick to cover as best you can."
Zantac glanced over at his fellow mage. "Two hundred feet; that's a fair distance. Limits our options somewhat until we can close to range." Cygnus nodded soberly in reply but said nothing.
"Nesco, Tojo- bows out. Help Argo take out those snipers," Elrohir finished up with a long look at his front-line partner. "Ready, Aslan?"
Aslan nodded. The paladin was now in a slight crouch, his sword and shield in hand. He prepared to bring his right shoulder to bear against the door, and then looked again at Elrohir.
"Bring your shield up a little higher Elrohir, and crouch down a bit, like me. Those gnolls are aiming towards where they expect a human head to be when this door opens."
Elrohir was flushed that he hadn't thought of that, but he just nodded in response and adopted his friend's pose. "Ready everyone?" he called softly over his shoulder.
"Readier than they are, I hope," Cygnus replied dourly. A brief discussion with Zantac had concluded with the agreement that shield spells seemed unwarranted. The tall mage couldn't fight the knot of anxiety that was twisting his stomach into a hard knot, but he gave a small smile of encouragement to the ranger. "Let's do it."
Elrohir took one more deep breath, made eye contact with Aslan, and as one they placed their shoulder against the door and pressed forward as quickly as they could.
And just as they did, they heard Argo Bigfellow's strong voice ring out behind them, as clear as a brand-new church bell.
"I'M HOME, LOVE! WHAT'S COOKIN' FOR DINNER?"
The air filled with crossbow bolts.