The Savage Caves - Chapter 19
Regdar shoved Lidda out of the way, the little woman tumbling to his side and getting back to her feet as smoothly as Regdar might slip into a saddle. As she rolled, he saw that her eyes never left the creature that charged them. Its unnatural skin-pulling trick had shaken her, the warrior knew. He’d never seen a krenshar but he’d heard tales of them. It was disgusting, sure, but Regdar had seen some strange things in his time serving the Dukes. He was harder to shake than most. The krenshar, flesh still pulled back and screaming, sank its great fangs deep into the exposed warrior’s forearm. The plating there was strong; little spikes of metal jutted out from the shaped metal and more than once Regdar had used his bracers to turn aside a blow. As the thing bit down, it growled against the spikes that dug into its mouth. Blood gushed from the wounds but the creature’s jaws were powerful; Regdar felt the tips of fangs dig deep into his forearm and he let out his own pained growl. He tried to tear his arm out of the creature’s mouth but the massive wolf-like beast was stronger. It held tight. The warrior watched it narrow the yellow eyes set in its exposed skull and Regdar cursed. The krenshar twisted, bringing the older warrior around its side and then swinging him away. The fangs tore through his armor, shredding the bracer as it tore the armor from his body. He tumbled several feet away, barely able to get to his feet before the beast whirled on him. It growled again, clicking its teeth and glaring at him. Drool puddled at its feet and the hungry monster padded forward. The warrior’s head spun a bit; the blow he’d suffered had shaken him and he’d need more time to fully recover. Good, Regdar thought as he spared Tazerg and Lidda a quick glance. They had both flattened against the walls and watched horrified. He needed to snap Lidda out of this. “Ripper’s hungry,” the great bugbear said. He leaned forward and looked like a gambler happily watching a sure win taking place. The thought brought anger to Regdar’s face and he could feel himself flush. Rezrek snarled low in his throat. “Go on, man. Fight.” His hands gripped the poorly shaped arms of the stone throne and his own orange-yellow eyes were frantic. Hungry, the warrior thought. Ripper growled again and lunged; a blur of fur and fangs. Regdar knew he couldn’t keep dodging but he threw himself to the side, trying to tuck and roll away. He managed it well, avoiding the attack, but had to stop himself against the wall. He turned and Ripper was on him in a second, snarling and growling as it snapped at his feet. He jumped, kicking out hard and connecting with the krenshar’s head. It grunted, stepping back and shaking away the blow. It only seemed to be angrier. The warrior shifted forward, swinging his spiked forearms back and forth in front of him; balling his fists, he was just trying to get more distance between him and the creature. It growled, backing away and giving him space enough to look over to Lidda. “Come on, Lidda!” He shouted, spittle falling from his lips. His own voice sounded impossibly loud in the cavern, echoing off the walls. She gave him a terrified look and shook her head. He slapped his chest and gestured for her to throw it. She hesitated. “Damn it, girl, throw me the gods-be-damned knife!” He yelled, puffing his chest out as Ripper circled him. She looked over to the krenshar and let out a soft whimper, slipping her hand into her leathers and drawing out the knife. The halfling seemed so uncertain and that fact made Regdar mad. He needed a weapon or he was going to die! He dashed forward, avoiding the raking claws of Ripper as it sliced through the air behind him. He swept Lidda up, ignoring her screaming protests, and managed to wrestle the knife from her hand. He then shifted her weight, tossing the tiny woman up towards the ledge of the pit. She caught it, scrambling up the side just in time to see Rezrek stand up and bark an order at the other bugbear. It moved forward quickly but Regdar had his own worries. “You threw me up here without a weapon!” Lidda screamed at him, running past the group of scared goblins and out of Regdar’s sight. She would be fine, he knew. At least, he hoped she would. Ripper dove towards Regdar as he was distracted and bit into the back of his leg, powerful jaws sinking deep and ripping through his calf muscle. The warrior screamed, turning his body and driving the little stone dagger into the beat’s furred back. There was a moment of resistance but the blade dug deep into the creature’s flesh. Blood bubbled up from the wound and Ripper released Regdar’s calf. The warrior stumbled back and heard Rezrek roar. The krenshar backed away, trying to bite at the wound in its back. It leveled deadly eyes at Regdar and stalked forward. The man shifted, wincing at the pain in his leg, and cursed. He looked down at his tiny weapon and saw that the knife had chipped and was half as long now. “Oh, damn it.” He sighed. His leg bled heavily and as he watched the droplets of blood pool beneath him, Regdar braced himself. The knife was useless to him. The warrior tossed it to the side and noticed that Tazerg was still pressed against the pit wall. But now he held a stone and greedily eyed the knife that Regdar had tossed. He nodded to the goblin, who reared back and threw the rock hard at the krenshar. Regdar knew it wouldn’t do much but all he needed was a moment. Rezrek yelled at Tazerg. The stone struck Ripper’s side and it growled, whipping its big head away from the warrior. Tazerg swallowed hard. Regdar used the moment of distraction. He shifted forward awkwardly, struggling against his wounded calf, and dove forward. He caught Ripper by the neck, the growling krenshar turning to bite him. He shifted, dragging himself up and onto its back by using its fur as handholds. Thick fur pulled away in his fingers as Regdar reached forward, wrapping his arms around the animal’s neck and positioning his remaining spiked bracer against its neck. It snarled, snapping and shifting against the unwanted rider. He pushed hard, trying to hold on with an injured arm and stab at the thing’s neck. Heavy boots slammed into the stone floor behind Regdar and he managed a quick look back. Rezrek was stomping towards the wounded warrior. “Oh gods,” he managed to say, still struggling against the horrible animal in his grasp.
Naull laid Jozan down as gently as she could. The man was heavy, so she’d commanded the phantom steed to lower itself to the ground so all she needed to do was to guide his body to the hard ground. He moaned, trying to hold her arm but he was too weak. It seemed that the tendrils that thing had attacked with were meant for weakening prey - he was paralyzed, at least not fully from what the young mage could discern, but he was useless. Even just lifting an arm seemed impossible. She grabbed his hand and nodded, trying to affect as soothing a voice as she could. “Don’t worry, Jozan. I’m here.” She smiled but she knew he could see through it. This was an issue she had no solution for. Her magic was potent and Larktiss had shown her much in her apprenticeship but the draining touch of an underground monster was beyond her understanding. If she had more time to research it and had the proper materials she might be able to divine a method of counteracting it. There were several plants in the herb garden Larktiss had that would help sooth such things, at least she was very certain there were. She tried to pull up the names of plants used to combat - the priest managed to put his hand on her arm and the full weight of it pulled against her. “N-Naull.” He looked to his side and she took up his holy symbol. It was a simple thing, carved from sturdy wood. She placed it on his chest and nodded but he stopped her from pulling away. “H-Help me. I need y-you to help m-me in a prayer.” His voice was halting and his breathing was shallow. The paralysis must have struck his chest as well, making it harder for him to even draw a breath. “Jozan,” she said, looking a bit confused. “I understand your magic in the theoretical sense but nothing more.” She shook her head. “I’m not sure there’s much I can do.” “J-just put your hand over mine, t-then r-repeat the words with me.” His head lay back against the cold stone and he sighed deeply. She searched his face but uncertainty was all she found. Perhaps he didn’t think she could be of much help either. “Alright.” She placed her hand over the holy symbol of Pelor, taking his and placing it on hers. “G-good.” He closed his eyes and he intoned his prayer, the young woman repeating his words as the two sat in the soft blue glow of the underground. In the silence before he started his prayer, Naull could hear the sound of growling from further down the river. And gruff voices, which seemed to carry rather far in the massive cavern. She’d been on alert since they fled the stone creature and her eyes constantly darted around, trying to see if there were other such things hidden in the gloom. “Pelor, grant this servant strength. Bless him with the might of your unconquered sun, Your eternal face, shining and revealing. Let your unassailable might flow into him and return what was, Natural again. Whole again.” The prayer was halting and difficult for her to fully understand but she dutifully followed, intoning right alongside her stricken friend. She could see the uncertainty in his quivering lips and for a long moment after he’d finished the young mage thought Jozan may have passed out. But a dim, steadily growing golden light spilled out of his palm and seemed to flow through her as well. The holy symbol shifted, an inner light growing brighter as lines of power curled away from their clasped hands. They flowed like liquid gold over Jozan, slipping beneath his armor and skin as if neither were a barrier to their touch. She watched after long moments as his breathing became more steady. His chest rose and fell, steady and strong as it had been before when she’d seen him sleeping as they’d rested in the crevasse. She had used the short respite to prepare her magic for the upcoming day and was so grateful for Larktiss’ teachings - again. His words and lessons had saved her more than once. Jozan lifted himself and coughed, running a weary hand over his face. He looked into Naull’s eyes and smiled. “Not nearly back to myself but the journey has begun,” he chuckled, trying to get to his feet and failing almost immediately. He shook his head. “Perhaps another spell?” She offered. “Yes. This one I can manage myself, I think.” His hand moved again and glowing lines shifted from his hands into his body. Naull turned to the sound of the noise, trying to pinpoint it in the impossibly big cavern. She narrowed her eyes and lingered on a large stone pillar about five meters away. She watched it as her breath slowed, waiting for any sign of tendrils or that hideous language. Nothing. She nodded. Lidda’s voice came to Naull’s ears as if leagues away. She snapped her head in the direction and then looked at Jozan. He’d heard it as well. He waved her on. “Go, go. I can catch up - but I need time to regain my strength.” “I’ll ride up the river and send the phantom steed back to you. I’ll return control of it to you.” She nodded. “Will that work?” He asked, the healing magics flowing from his hands throughout his body. She nodded. Naull was fairly certain it would. “Go.” He said, invoking the power of his god once again to banish the weakness in his body. Naull was fascinated by his magic - it was so very different from her own, in casting and in focus. His ability to heal wounds and restore those who had been afflicted was impressive. She didn’t think he understood how rare a skill that was. Larktiss had once told her that the magic the divinely inspired wielded was less constrained than her own - not quite like sorcery but it was gifted by the gods, who themselves were mercurial and unknowable in any true sense. Their power flowed through mortal forms and, from these acts of power, they influenced the world. She was in awe of it. But the requirements of such following was beneath her; Naull would bow to no creature, and only gave service to Wee Jas because it seemed both prudent and necessary if she wanted to follow in her powerful footsteps. She took one last lingering look at Jozan, who caught her eyes in his own. He was worried, she could read that clearly on his face. She turned, mounting the horse as quickly as she could and urged it forward. The smoking hooves drew her to the river and stepped cleanly onto it, as if it were packed earth. The nickering of the horse filled the space with a strange reverberating noise and she pushed forward, speeding down the water as quickly as the thing could move. She was a blur to the priest as she sped away. Naull cleared the distance quickly, skating over the water without issue. As she drew closer, she could hear the sounds of battle and noticed a heavier blue glow coming from a cavern with a large mouth inside of this even greater cave they’d been in. She urged the horse faster, drawing a scroll from her pack and trying to ready herself for whatever was going to meet her. She knew it wouldn’t be good.
Tazerg watched the warrior climb onto Ripper. He moved forward, snatching up the broken dagger and hissing in anger as he saw how small it was now. The goblin wasn’t even sure if he could get it into the beast’s body through all of its fur. He watched as Rezrek stepped to the pit ledge, dropping down effortlessly and drawing his massive weapon; the blue hue seemed to give it an otherworldly appearance as he hefted it, pointing the warhammer at the hu-man. “Man!” Rezrek screamed, slowly stalking forward. The warrior said nothing and continued to try and stab Ripper with his strange arm knives. It wasn’t working though and Ripper continued to shake, trying to throw him off. It reminded Tazerg of when he’d tried to ride one of the spiderlings; it had thrown him harshly to the ground and hissed, scuttling away into the darkness to leave the crying goblin alone. He wasn’t a little goblin anymore, he thought. He squeezed the knife. Tazerg could hear the sound of the little hu-man Lidda struggling with Fidul. If he could only get out of the pit he might be able to help her. But the big man was dead without his sword. Unless he helped. Tazerg grumbled. He was going to die. He closed his eyes and growled, opening them as he started to rush forward. Rezrek had closed the distance, bringing his weapon up high to smash the skull of the warrior. Tazerg dashed towards the bugbear leader, throwing himself up with all of his might and trying to land on the bugbear’s back. Rezrek turned, throwing his large paw out and connecting solidly with Tazerg’s jaw. The strike rattled the goblin’s brains and sent him sprawling back, the broken knife skating away from his open hand. He landed hard, vision swimming, and tried to pick himself up. His arms were too weak, though, and he whimpered as he slipped to the stone floor. He heard Rezrek laugh and knew he was dead. The big hu-man was dead. Rezrek was going to eat their meat and feed their bones to Ripper. This thought slipped from Tazerg as his eyes closed, unconsciousness stealing everything but the overwhelming dark.
Fidul swung the bastard awkwardly; regardless of his size and strength, the blade required considerable skill to use properly and Lidda was grateful the huge idiot wasn’t nearly as good with the weapon as Regdar. Otherwise she’d already be dead. She dodged another sweeping strike, backflipping away from the blade and landing near the entrance of the cave. She could turn and run. Even in the dim of the caverns she was pretty sure she’d eventually find her way and the bugbear couldn’t keep up with her. She hesitated. The thing in the pit scared the hells out of her and she just wanted to be as far from it as she could be. She couldn’t dodge the bugbear’s strikes forever. And Regdar needed help. And Tazerg. Lidda heard the sound of their struggle with Rezrek and the krenshar, Ripper. She cursed. She wouldn’t leave them. When Fidul came with another swing, she dodged to the side and made sure to land amongst some of the rocks. Little pebbles bit into her knees as she slid and she bit back a yelp. She turned, palming a small stone in her hand. The bugbear leered, smirking at her with its disgusting rotting fangs and drew back the sword to strike her down. Out of the corner of her eyes she saw the goblins standing there, looking defeated and tired. She could use that. She held her hand up, still hiding the stone in the other. “Wait, wait!” She yelled in the flan tongue. The massive creature paused for a second, looking confused. It said nothing. Oh gods it worked, she thought. Now what do I do? “I- don’t you think just cutting me is kinda boring?” She blurted out quickly, trying to make her voice heard over the growling and snarling coming from the pit. Fidul looked confused. She pointed to his club; it was studded and discolored. She assumed it was from blood, probably goblin. She shot the group a look and they were rapt; all eyes fixed on her and Fidul. She nodded to them. Fidul lifted the sword again and she hissed. “No, no! What are you doing?” She scolded. The bugbear seemed taken aback and lowered the weapon in his hand. “That’s right,” she continued, getting to her feet and holding the stone tightly. She would only get one shot at this and it had to be good. The club looked worn, so she had to gamble that he might favor it over Regdar’s sword. “Cutting only? Is that as much fun as smashing? Crushing my bones?” The ideas she was giving this bugbear seemed to resonate; he was nodding and drooling as he stood there. She shook her head, taking a step to the left and putting some distance between her and the goblin group. “If you cut me, I’ll die fast! But if you break my bones, it’ll take longer.” She said and felt her stomach drop out when the bugbear nodded in agreement. Okay, shit. She took a deep breath as she watched Fidul reach for his club. He pulled it from the poorly made leather holder at his waist and gripped the handle tight. He looked at both weapons for a moment and seemed to be very pleased with the idea of getting to use both. Blood still glistened on Regdar’s blade. Fidul took a step forward, smiling as he did so. She needed to signal the goblins. The halfling looked over to the group and a single goblin, a female, caught her eye. She was thin, with scraggly orange-brown hair falling down her face and it looked like she’d taken several punches to the face. Her nose was warped and clearly broken, crusted old blood drew lines down her nose. In the goblin tongue, Lidda spoke to her. “We take him together.” The goblin looked at Fidul, her anger apparent, and she nodded at Lidda. The goblin spoke quickly with the others there and the halfling woman saw several nodding heads and murmurs of agreement. Lidda looked back at Fidul, who still seemed lost in the amusement of killing with both weapons. “Okay!” She shouted. “Can we get to the killing or what?” She put her hand on her hip and stuck her tongue out at the bugbear. He roared, bringing both weapons up. She hurled the stone in her hand, praying that Olidammara guided the throw. Or Pelor. Or whoever, she honestly didn’t care! The rock struck home; right into the creature’s jaundiced eye. Fidul howled, a strange gurgling noise, and dropped the sword. His hand went instinctively to his wounded eye and Lidda shouted in triumph. “Now!” She yelled, rolling forward and picking up the heavy blade. It was awkward and she didn’t have any idea how to properly use it. But she gripped it in both of her tiny hands and swung as hard as she could. The sword cut into Fidul’s thigh, drawing bright red blood in a spurting river that splashed her face and soaked his filthy breeches. He screamed and the group of goblins who stood by watching shouted, rushing forward to jump on the downed bugbear. They shouted, screamed, clawing and hitting with fists and stones they’d picked up off the ground. The female goblin with the broken nose produced a small sharpened stone, from where the halfling couldn’t guess, and stabbed at the beast’s shoulder with all her might. Lidda was in awe. These creatures looked like swarming ants falling over the bugbear and pulling at his bulk. Fidul vainly swung his club but there was little power behind it; the strike barely knocked one of the goblins away and it was right back up, crawling to climb onto him with the others. Lidda’s strike was awkward but deep and the blade had hit somewhere important; blood flowed heavily as the goblins brought him onto his back. They were clawing and screaming, tearing at him with everything they had. Lidda looked away. She had her own experiences with mobs and didn’t need to see what could’ve happened to her in Fairbye. Lidda pulled the heavy sword along the ground, scraping it in a way that she was sure Regdar wouldn't be happy about. But he would be happier to be alive. Moving over to the edge, she was surprised at the sight that met her. Regdar was standing, his calf bleeding profusely, and fighting off against both Rezrek and Ripper; he was mostly dodging it seemed to her but she was surprised at how well he was doing. The warrior rolled to the side, grunting with the effort to avoid the massive warhammer blow that Rezrek tried to land on him. The weapon cracked the stone floor beneath their feet, sending flecks of stone scattering and Ripper, skin still pulled back exposing its skull, snapped at the tumbling warrior. She was in awe. If that had been her, she would’ve already been dead. But here this much larger, less nimble man was dodging and avoiding and- “Stop staring and throw me my sword, damn it!” His shout broke her from her trance. She nodded, shifting the sword around and using her body weight to add momentum. She flung the weapon towards him and he managed to catch it, just as Rezrek stepped forward and struck at him. The blow connected but Regdar turned it aside deftly, though the halfling could see that the strike had shaken him; the warrior’s blade rang out and shuddered from the impact, which she knew must have hurt his arm. He gave ground, whirling the blade before him as his eyes frantically searched for a way out of the pit. Lidda heard a growl from Rezrek and Ripper responded, turning away from Regdar and catching her eyes with its own. Her stomach dropped out and she backed away from the pit’s edge, trying to get distance between her and the awful creature. In one powerful leap it cleared the distance and the walls of the pit to land only a few feet from her. She screamed, turning around and scrambling towards the swarming goblins that were beating Fidul to death. The bugbear had stopped moving and she caught the glimpse of her shortsword at his belt; it was behind his wide back and she hadn’t seen it before. She dove forward, tumbling and desperately trying to pull it from him as Ripper bounded towards her. “Look out!” She called out in the goblin tongue and the little grey-skinned creatures shrieked, scurrying away from the downed bugbear like insects fleeing when someone lifted a rock they hid beneath. Lidda watched the goblin with the broken nose stand her ground, brandishing her sharpened stone at the creature as it cleared the distance. Its exposed bone was glistening and it let loose another horrible shriek, stealing the goblin’s resolve and causing her to drop the weapon. She stood completely stunned and Lidda cursed. She pulled her weapon free just in time to watch the goblin get knocked over, the snarling krenshar rearing back to sink its fangs into her. Lidda shifted forward, stabbing out and catching Ripper in the side of the neck. The blade seemed to get caught in the creature’s filthy, matted fur and the halfling couldn’t push any deeper. The krenshar turned from the fallen goblin and snapped at Lidda, forcing her to step back. She brandished her blade at it and spit. A glob splattered against its exposed bone and the creature hissed, turning away from the easy prey beneath it. It faced Lidda. It snarled, snapping its jaws as it began shifting closer and closer to the halfling woman. Sweat poured from her as she tried to think of a way to outrun the beast but it was useless. It was going to crush her skull in its jaws. She let out a whimper but still kept her blade up. If she had to die - oh gods, why did she have to die - then the halfling would do so with a blade in her hand. She snarled back, watching Ripper open its jaws wide as it slowly moved forward.
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