Tuesday, March 27, 2012

Lost


Garic Stonefoot and his wife Shandril had been lost for weeks. Part of a small band heading to Skullport they became separated when a hoard of undead set upon their group. Shandril stricken with fear fled off into the cavern, Garic fearing for his wife charged after her. By the time he caught up to her and calmed her down, they returned to the battle field to find everyone was gone. All signs pointed to his party being killed and drug off by whatever horrors that had attacked them. With his wife in tow he had managed to avoid all the nasty’s the Undermountain had to offer. This week he had managed to skirt around a group of Piercers, a pair of slimes, & a Bulette. They’d also run across more wondering undead than he’d ever thought to exist. A cartographer by trade he had hoped to map a route from Skullport to Waterdeep. However his aimless wonderings over the past two weeks had produced maps with no origin or destination points and no known landmarks.

The day had started like all the others. Garic had wondered down a side corridor foraging for food. Though he had to admit the thought of another moss & mushroom meal turned his stomach it was at least keeping them alive. In the darkness of the cavern he caught the unmistakable smell of death. He gripped the worn haft of his old battle axe and listened. He could hear them coming, the scraping of bone on stone had become a familiar sound these past couple of weeks. He thought about making a run for it, but knew Shandril would be seen if she tried to follow. He ducked down a narrow side passage as his wife quickly followed him. All at once light flooded the large cavern, so bright their dwarven eyes burned with its radiance. By the time they could manage a glimpse half of the skeletal precession was already past them. Never had he know the undead to carry light before. His thought was immediately interrupted by conversation. A women's voice echoed through the cavern, he wanted to look but dared not risk being seen. Her voice was soothing, a radical change from the constant nagging he had been forced to listen to the past couple weeks. He could only make out a few words before the echoing distorted her speech, “Yawning Portal” and “Another entrance”. She must have come down the portal, he whispered to his wife. We will follow them back to the surface.

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