As more and more people pour into the walled city of Triboar seeking protection Chaotic Gold make ready to depart on a new mission. That is, all but Pimzin Teabottle. Having witnessed firsthand what it was like for her family to flee the horde of the Red Hand, Pimzin is intent on helping them and others to recover their luck. With heavy hearts, they say goodbye, at least for now and Pimzin throws herself at a different, yet equally impossible mission.
The party, along with Moira journeys eastward now along the Dawn’s Way passing long lines of travelers made curious by their dress, their cavalier attitudes and their direction of travel and it is after two days they make camp at the edge of the Thornwaste, hoping to find rest before entering the haunted and inhospitable territory.
They picket their horses and prepare for one last “civilized” evening of camping with Moira who has become quite the camp cook as Nameroc transforms.
His limbs slip from his clothing, and elongate as his leans forward, seeming to squat. And in a sudden flurry of movement that culminates in the flapping of wings, Nameroc has grown mighty wings and lift him into the sky, a breeze scattering autumnal leaves as he departs.
High above the Thornwaste it doesn’t seem such a horrible place, just another place where nature has manifest to protect itself, but his keen eyes can still make out the maze of broken hills, briar-choked ravines, and thistle-clogged fissures. He screeches a chuckle, “This will not make the others happy.”
In time he sees it a place where even the so-called waste it blighted and in the center what is that; A lion? Flying closer, it becomes clear.
Rising from a low mesa is an intimidating sight. A massive lion of stone crouches, as if ready to pounce on a nearby hill. It looks to be about two hundred forty feet in length, and the top of its maned head rises over eighty feet from the ground.
Boldly, he lands between the teeth and locates a rope ladder. Before sunssets, he departs to share the otherworldly scene.
In the morning, they depart leaving leaving the horses with Moira Shadowbanks. In this difficult terrain countless thistles and thorns have a way of working themselves into armor and clothing and seemingly every hour or two an exhausted party stops to rest and recuperate. A flight that took only an hour has become a day long trudge with grumbling and complaint their only conversation.
When at last they emerge into the “Dead-Zone” it is with Bry invisible and the rest of the party sneaking the final miles toward the mouth of the beast. Stopping between the paws they look up watching as an avian Nameroc drops the rope ladders and it unfurls a full 50 feet to the ground.
As they climb the ladder sways and sometimes they find themselves waiting on the Bry whose legs are shorter and who carries a heavier burden. Frequently, she looks down, nor recommended by those who understand what heights can do to a dwarf, but this time she sees something.
Like a blue-green flash, it streaks toward the ladder, predatory eyes climbing with intelligence as its head tips back. The lightning bolt begins between her two curved horns extending from her snout and travels up the ladder striking the party members with deadly accuracy. Zaila nearly falls from the rope ladder, but she and the other hold strong.
Nameroc alone is unaffected, for he was not in line with the energy bolt and he cast “Polymorph” as the Behir (for that is how it is known) begins to climb climb the rope with it’s 12 arms. Zaila Fanter adds cutting words, “Go back to Ohm Depot, you slithering freak.”
Suddenly, he is a rat…. Scurrying back to his cave.
As Bry watches, Zaila throws a firebolt and strikes the rat with a blow that would kill it, but instead transforms it back into the snake-like beast unconscious in the sand.
Nameroc strikes his staff on the mouth of the giant lion where they all stand and feels a certain unease that he’s never felt before when using It’s power, but the Thorny Wall encircles the beast. The other pepper it with arrows and as it flees it is Zaila who dispatches it. An arrow in the vertebrae, its coordination at once gone, it tumbles into a writhing snake-like pile.
Few had witnessed the two monks arrive by great stony doors, they seemed a match for the ranger, bard and druid whose arrows and ice bolts were deflected. Even Bry was stunned by them before, at least one was defeated. The other escaped down a long spiral staircase. So, Thorne, Bryllin Stoneheart, Nameroc and Zaila descend with care they pursued and over time a fog cloud obscured their vision leaving Bry to feel her way down the steps stumbling as they finally end in a room.
Nameroc casts “Destroy Water” and the cloud dissipates to reveal a small room two doors and to Zaila’s surprise a secret (NAT 20) door leading downward again.
They explore the normal doors first and behind the first they discover a horrible surgical table, are full of eyeballs, hearts, brains and other unspeakable parts. It is horrible.
And behind the second…. More Hobgoblin monks like the others who were so adept at closing combat…….