Adventurers
- Elixabete (Thief 2)
- Khadgar (Magic User 1)
- Major Ursa (Magic User 1)
- NPCs: Antxone (MU), Berros (F), Itzaina (F)
No longer employed and with some fresh experience under her belt, Elixabete formed a new expeditionary party with two passing arcane casters to try and find the third kidnapped villager. Conscious of how ill-suited to frontline fighting they were, they grabbed themselves some retainers to at least intercept some incoming blows.
Sneaking down the most recently-discovered entrance, they made a beeline for the stairs leading to the next level below, leaving the rodent-stinking brickwork for wood-effect stone panels and earthy aromas. Briefly exploring the room housing the well and a lot of mushrooms, the party spiked the door shut to protect their rear and moved on.
Hearing the sounds of thuds coming from one corridor and faint singing coming from another, they opted to try the third, quieter pathway and came across the stone statue of a dwarven warrior holding aloft a drinking horn, identical to the one seen up above but with different labels on the column of bricks next to it. These read: West Halls, East Halls and Level Two.
As Elixabete noted down the particular, the others explored a little further until the corridor opened into a great chamber stretching away into the darkness with flanking pillars and a thick carpet of mushrooms. Just at the edge of their torchlight they could see the flickering fire reflect of several metallic surfaces covering some unmoving forms on the ground, but the adventurers were unwilling to risk advancing into the open so turned round and tried a silent door instead.
On the other side was a dead dwarf surround by the corpses of humanoid figures covered in filthy, matted, damp hair - the kind your or I extract from shower plugholes. The party rifled through the dwarf’s belongings, pocketing a partial map and a note reading, “Fire and steel, your humble servant comes”, and stripping him of his armour. If it couldn’t fit any of them, it might at least be sell-able.
Then they braved the corridor from which they could hear thudding. As they approached a door, the sound of inhuman exclamations also became audible, and they found a hairy one chasing several large cockroaches around the room with several more dead ones stuffed into a bag over its shoulder. It was suspicious but not aggressive towards the adventurers, and responded to their queries that it knew nothing of a missing human youth, but spat and observed that it was probably the Gecko clan’s doing. They were the untrustworthy scum holed out in the eastern part of these halls, never up to any good. Utterly unlike the upstanding members of the honourable Tiger Beetle clan. Incidentally, the Tiger Beetle chief would be interested in discussing arrangements if the adventurers were inclined to rescue their human from those vile Gecko-lovers.
The party nodded along, then excused themselves and returned to the surface for a breath of fresh air, and to the village to gather their thoughts and resupply for whatever the next delve might hold.