Minthara wiped the spider guts from her hand using the edge of the table, keeping her expression stoic and unbothered. She didn't generally have to deal with bugs anymore - ever since Lolth had abandoned her, she had taken steps daily to ensure the creepy crawlies of the world would not invade her space. They were unhygienic, and more importantly, potential spies for the Spider Queen.
Still, while her spell was quite effective at deterring most insects and arachnids, at the end of the day it was a fairly weak enchantment, a source of mental distress that would drive away minds too small to feel anything but instinct for survival. Even if the spell had been quite strong indeed, it would have been insufficient if one was steered by a greater will than its own.
She glanced at where the spider had been crawling across her map - a spot a half-day's hard march away, where the forest turned to swamp. There was no doubt in her mind that this spider had been steered by her ex-goddess to send some kind of message, but of what?
Certainly it couldn't be anything trustworthy. Lolth was a spiteful, petty, sadistic tyrant of a goddess with no concern for her follower's well-being. Which was admirable in its own way, but Minthara had long since refused to accept that her place lay beneath the boot of such a deity. But was it straightforward, akin to a divine messenger telling her to walk off a cliff, or was it some more subtle revenge for her defection?
Minthara glanced at the empty chairs at her table and huffed. She would have a better idea of what lay in that direction if the scouts had been capable of obeying simple instructions. Most of them were supposed to be monitoring the town's immediate surroundings, but some had gone further east with True Soul Edowin to investigate the crash site, which was rather close to the area the spider had indicated.
It was possible her companion from Moonrise had commanded them otherwise, or that they had died, and thus had not yet had time to report back to her on their findings. Given that several scouting groups much closer to home had also failed to report in, Minthara suspected it was more due to a lack of discipline than Edowin's posturing or enemy action. The scout groups were made up of the most unruly goblins, the ones that would stir up trouble if they were told to sit and wait. Such loose cannons still had their uses, for they were quite bloodthirsty, but it made them rather unreliable.
Additionally, every goblin that was out foraging far from here was a mouth they didn't have to feed. Raiding the town had turned up less supplies than she would've preferred, and even the inn had been something of a disappointment - well-stocked though it was, especially in alcoholic beverages, it had not been prepared to feed a few hundred mouths for an indefinite period, and that was the situation she found herself in.
(It didn't help that the goblins immediately decided to consume as much alcohol as they possibly could, but she didn't discourage them. Morale had been dwindling almost as fast as their food reserves, so a party would bolster them for another month perhaps.)
When they had first taken this place in late spring, their forces were far smaller - just warriors, instead of all the 'civilian' goblins that now rested within these halls. The village had some stocks of food, and the temple in particular had storage filled with long-lasting foodstuffs in case of emergencies, but the town's crop was not yet ready for harvest. Come autumn, that would help to bolster their rations, as would the merchant caravans she expected to pass through soon.
Far more exciting, to her mind, was the capture of the looter team. Upon their presence being detected, most of the team had cut and run, although one had not. Two were easily killed, and one was easily captured, but the fourth that had failed to retreat had turned out to be a druid of no small capability; too bad for him she had more goblin lives to spend than he had spells. The others had not been nearly so impressive, and had been quick to abandon such a strong ally, implying a lack of comradery between them.
Minthara had him locked up, of course. In the long-term, he might be able to be brought around to the Absolute's way of thinking. In the short-term, he could be questioned Had he hired these looters because he had no allies, or because he did not wish to endanger those he truly cared about? Would he be able and willing to supplement the goblin's dwindling supplies with his primal magicks, if his own life was on the line? What threats lurked in the forest that he knew to avoid and they did not? Minthara avoided glancing at the swamp on her map, but could not prevent herself from wondering might lurk there, that Lolth had indicated it to her.
Her thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of Sergeant Skrut, one of her more competent worg-riders. Most of the goblins barely had a thought in their head for anything but their next meal; her Sergeants were of a higher quality, and could be trusted to lead without requiring constant supervision. "In Her name," she called by way of greeting. "What news from the field?"
"In Her name," he replied with a nod. "I've got some boys tearing up the tollhouse vault. Shame to lose the food, but plenty of good weapons and scrap metal we can use for something."
Minthara squinted at him, uncertain. The tollhouse had been looted months ago, save for the vault in the basement that nobody had been able to penetrate. Still, it wouldn't do to appear uninformed, so she nodded as if it were expected. "See to it that whoever's responsible is rewarded appropriately for piercing its defenses."
It was Skrut's turn to look confused. "Uh...you mean they didn't..." he glanced over his shoulder as if looking for someone.
Her lips tightened; it seems she was even more out of the loop than she realized. "Speak."
"Sorry, ma'am. It's just uh, there was a True Soul and her lackeys. Not one I recognized either. Found 'em poking around in the tollhouse vault. Said she was here to speak with you, so we escorted 'em all inside before I went back to make sure the boys didn't get lazy with the looting."
Her mind raced. If someone had been sent by Moonrise, they were either here to reinforce the position, or to replace her so that she could be redeployed somewhere more suitable to her talents. "Describe them."
"True Soul's pretty tall and skinny for a human gal. Armor just hangs off her and she seemed outta breath in it. She's wearing glasses, and had a dragon with her. Er, I mean, like a little one, just hangin' off her. My boys were ready to run her through before she ordered their weapons stowed."
Minthara wasn't familiar with this True Soul. They were either extremely new, or had been out on other assignments since before she had served her term at Moonrise in the spring. The former was more likely, if for no other reason than this position was unlikely to receive further reinforcement if they were truly drowning in fresh recruits of significant power. It stung here even to think such thoughts, but this position wasn't all that important to hold.
Skrut kept talking. "She's got a pretty big group with her, maybe a dozen? I didn't do a headcount but it seemed like quite a few. Most of them were armed to the teeth."
Minthara felt her heartrate increase. "And what supplies do they bring to supplement us?"
The goblin shrugged. "Didn't ask. Can't be too much, though - just whatever they were carrying." This position was starved for resources and Moonrise added another dozen mouths, bringing only what they could carry? It wasn't impossible, but...
Instincts that had served the drowess faithfully all her life flared. She stood, just barely resisting the urge to snatch her mace off her belt. "Sergeants, on me. Let's go find this True Soul. I wish to speak with them." Rozzak and Zurga looked concerned, but didn't question her orders. They stood to follow her, with Skrut falling in line next to them.
Before she could exit the library - before she could even cross the rickety wooden bridge connecting it to the rest of this derelict temple - she saw a group entering from the direction of the cellblock.
(Githyanki warrior. Well-armored, one-handed sword, no shield. Likely a gish who would favor a defensive style.)
(The tiefling berserker from the inn, wounds freshly healed. Armed but unarmored, durable but reckless. Weak to enchantments and illusions, likely.)
(The bear druid. Imposing, but not a direct threat unless he shifted to another form. Supporting the frontline.)
They had freed the prisoners. Not reinforcements, then, but rather enemy action. Minthara drew her mace as her mind raced, analyzing the situation at lightning speed.
(Male human in purple robes. Tome chained to his belt, apprentice's staff clutched in one hand, already casting something. Wizard, easily dispatched if one could penetrate the frontal assault.
(The supposed 'True Soul'. Weak grip on her spear, no fighting stance, clearly bogged down by her armor. Inexperienced combatant, but had commanded a troop to disarm. A mentalist of some flavor. Easily dispatched.)
(Dragonborn mage. Highly muscular, knife in off-hand, offensive stance. Likely more prepared than the others for close-quarters combat.)
Minthara believe she could take on the two prisoners, particularly since she knew they had been previously wounded and had to be running on reserves at this point. But with how much assistance they had, she was almost certainly outmatched by the group as a whole, even with her sergeants backing her up. They wouldn't be here if they didn't think they had a chance to take her down, after all.
(Half-elf maiden. Armor, shield, and a familiar spear. They had murdered Edowin, then. No visible ranged weapon or holy symbol. Either ranged combatant or nonissue.)
(Fairy with a bow. Dagger strapped to his hip. Likely ranged specialist.)
(Human male, lightly armored, wielding a rapier. One eye visibly glowing, man or eye is magical. Illusions may be ineffective. Either ranged combatant or nonissue. For all three, visual obscurement will force them out of their comfort zones.)
This was not an assault force; if it were, Skrut would've reported on whoever they killed just getting in here (or more likely, would've never reported at all due to being killed as well). No, this was a strike team, infiltrating far behind the front line to strike at herself and the others that kept the horde in check, no doubt hoping to slip out undetected in the chaos that was sure to follow.
Minthara concluded that her first move should be to alert the rest of the fortress to the intruders; even if she were to die here, Gut and Ragzlin would be able to bear down on the survivors with lethal intent and the support of at least a few dozen helpers. She focused her mind for a moment and reached out with her free hand, and four identical purple lights shots from her hand to arrive at the designated position - well past the group bearing down on her.
Minthara's positioning in the library had been very deliberate: it was just about as far back from the entrance as one could get, while just barely having line of sight to the room above the cells that housed the giant spiders. This area was somewhat visible to the lackeys that assisted both Priestess Gut and Dror Ragzlin, and was additionally patrolled by the scrying eye, which could sound the call for reinforcements quite effectively. Discipline was in short supply around here, but she had managed to instill in the goblins an understanding of what it meant when they saw four lights forming a diamond. Yellow meant there were suspected intruders, red meant the base was under attack from the outside, and purple meant it was under attack from within.
"Dark," she ordered as she fired off the cantrip, before retreating back into the library proper. Her sergeants had been instructed on a number of different strategies for dealing with intruders. This particular command would have them focused on inhibiting enemy vision: Zurga and Skrut would extinguish a pair of torches each with arrows, while Rozzak would throw a smoke bomb into the fray.
The gith, humans, and dragonborn would be left fumbling in the dark that enveloped them - save for the one with the possibly-enchanted eye, perhaps. Even those that could see in the dark would be hampered by all the smoke in the air, and most sensory enchantments weren't designed for dealing with visual obscurement other than natural darkness. The strike force would either be forced to move out of position, or to spend time mitigating her efforts. If the former, her sergeants could punish that mistake appropriately. If the latter...
...well, her victory here would be surviving long enough for reinforcements to arrive at her position. Anything that bought her a bit of time was a step closer to that goal.
Distantly, she heard the scrying eye begin to wail.
(Time estimate: three seconds to mentally process signal and wailing, five seconds to ready gear, ten seconds to run far enough for the first responders to be in line of sight of enemies. Conclusion: eighteen seconds until reinforcements arrive.)
The berserker charged her sergeants, laying into Zurga with her axe. It was a solid blow, but this lot was made of sterner stuff than their kin. Right behind her came the druid, who attempts to freeze Minthara in place with enchantments; she threw the spell off, deflecting it away from herself and onto the tiefling, who was far more vulnerable to such things. The goblins laid into their suddenly-paralyzed enemy with great enthusiasm. Seizing the new spell meant her signal will have faded away, but its purpose had been served.
The second rank emerged from the cloud of smoke, spells at the ready. A trio of force missiles erupted from the wizard, with each sergeant eating one. The dragonborn aimed for Minthara, but they guessed wrong on which way she'd dodge, and the ball of lightning went flying harmlessly past her. As for the third, Minthara found herself reevaluating their threat level: before the 'true soul' had even emerged from the smoke, her mind was assaulting the drow's own with hostile intent. A splitting headache erupted, and Minthara just barely managed to hold onto the spell keeping the berserker still.
She noted that the wizard and dragonborn were on the very edge of the wooden bridge, and that the backline had not emerged from the smoke to engage. The latter was ideal, the former meant sending them plummeting wasn't quite an option just yet.
Suddenly, the gith's sword was glowing as bright as a torch, and she charged the sergeants. Despite their best efforts to defend themselves, her blade cleaved through Zurga straight into Rozzak, with the former falling to the floor dead. Minthara saw the other two starting to turn towards the gith to extract revenge, but that wasn't optimal. "Focus fire!" she called out; the tiefling was as dangerous as the gith, but far more vulnerable at the moment. The goblins obediently laid into her instead, and Minthara savored the mental screams only she could hear. The druid was doing his best to keep her hale and hearty, but killing was easier than healing.
Before Minthara could approach to land the finishing blow, though, she found herself magically assaulted. Waves of fire and lightning and another splitting headache rocked her all at once, and even later she could not identify which one specifically broke her concentration and freed the tiefling from her binding spell. Cursing quietly, Minthara instead chose to abjure herself to try and deflect subsequent attacks away. She debated healing herself, but that kind of magic was best saved for after the fight was won.
The gith and tiefling made short work of Skrut and Rozzak, before bounding in her direction. The druid, apparently reaching a similar conclusion to Minthara's, turned away from healing and joined the mages in assaulting her. The druid and wizard threw fire at her, while the dragonborn advanced with a hungry look in their eyes that unsettled her on a deep level. One fire was deflected, while the second she dodged outright...only to catch an axe to the side that knocked the wind out of her.
Minthara could feel death closing in, its icy talons ready to drag her away to the fires below once the gith's sword found its target. Some part of her mind could hear dozens of footsteps, clanking arms and armor, and shouting goblin voices approaching her position. In a certain sense, she had succeeded: she'd warned Ragzlin of the intruders, and nearly lived to tell the tale. Too bad she couldn't take one with her...
Minthara glanced back at the bridge and widened. The false soul, the psion with no real fighting experience, was standing on the rickety bridge. There was still a chance - both to survive, and to reduce their numbers. And if there was any worth subtracting from their team, it was the one who'd ordered a troop to stow their weapons. That kind of power had to be curtailed, and she was never going to get a better opportunity.
Space twisted around her as she teleported adjacent to the false soul. The slip of a girl pivoted almost instantly, seeming to know exactly where she was despite the darkness. But she readied her shield instead of taking a stab with her spear. Perhaps if she had, she might've gotten the killing blow; instead, she would fall.
For the drow had chosen her location for a second reason as well. Throughout the temple there were fissures, deep lacerations leading into the belly of earth. She had employed some divinations to determine which ones led to isolated caves and which ones connected properly to the rest of the underdark. The fissure this bridge was built over was one of the latter. She raised her mace and brought it down on the bridge with all her fury channeled through the blow, and the wood broke before her resolve did, shattering from the force of her assault.
The false soul attempted to scramble backwards to safety, but her balance was off in that stolen armor and so she tripped instead. Minthara smiled, and her free hand snaked to her belt, where a scroll of feather fall was prepped and ready to trigger. She would survive the plummet no worse for wear and find a path to the surface, while this girl would-
She felt more than heard their arrival, the displacement of air and rock caused by a phase spider shifting into existence from the ethereal. They popped into her line of sight, along with a heavy net of webbing not merely anchored on the walls, but in the walls, in the way only phase spiders could do. The girl was caught in their web, but Minthara was further down, and so continued to fall.
'Well that's just not fair,' she thought to herself. As she yanked the scroll up and read it off, she idly wondered if the monsters had always been laying a trap there and taken the opportunity, if the false soul had somehow commanded them to catch her, or if Lolth had commanded it because she was petty and wanted Minthara to fail for her rejection. Ultimately, she decided, the difference didn't matter much. It had been a good attempt at killing, but a failed one. It was up to the goblins now.
The landing was rough: the spell didn't make it soft, just harmless. She bounded to her feet immediately, in case there were threats nearby; it wouldn't do to spend a moment to rest when it might well be her last. But she needn't have worried, for this cavern she'd fallen into was silent as the grave.
A battle had taken place here recently: the body of an enormous land-shark lay on its side several yards away, its black eyes dead of even the barest sparks of life. They were far underground now, but a bulette's roaming territory went on for miles; this might well be the 'ghost' that had been picking off the night guards for a week. A quick inspection of the corpse showed many wounds, but all of them too small to hinder such a beast. Whatever had killed it wasn't visible to the naked eye.
Minthara took a seat and performed a ritual to protect the corpse from rot and decay, before exiting the chamber through tunnels she now concluded had been excavated by the dead beast she left behind. She would find a path back to the surface and observe the goblin camp: either Ragzlin would prevail, or the intruders would; either way, it would be obvious by the time she returned.
If the camp was still the domain of the Absolute's forces, she would obtain some more scrolls from the merchants and get a taskforce of goblins to head down and begin harvesting the bulette's flesh. Her spell would keep the meat fresh and undisturbed by scavengers that long, at least. And a beast of this size would keep the camp fed for a few weeks without any further supplements.
And if the camp has been routed and the goblins have fled...then she would be better off retreating into the Underdark and returning to Moonrise. Ketheric would be displeased with her failure, but she was too useful to just toss away. She would be reassigned, given a second chance to prove herself.
As the tunnels branched off, she cast a glance at the ones heading east, in the vague direction of the swamp. Was that where the tieflings were coming from? Was it where this group had originated? Impossible to tell, save for that it was almost certainly a terrible idea to take directions from a spider. and yet, she couldn't get it out of her mind.
She shook her head and soldiered on. That was for deciding after observing the camp, which required her to get there in one piece. As it stood, she was heavily injured, low on magic, and completely alone in an unfamiliar section of the underdark. It was almost...nostalgic.