The End of the Crone: Part 1

It was chilly in the garbage pit, and the smell was nigh unbearable. The locals use the "bottomless" pit as a garbage dump, taking all the garbage in the land and chucking it in there.

The running joke in our group is that the pit runs all the way to the Underdark, and there are some very angry Drow down there wondering why their chosen goddess allows garbage to fall from above onto their heads.

Maybe I should introduce myself. I'm Ballad, bard and adventurer, and current leader of the Thunderous Fury. The group is quite famous in the town of Raven's Bluff, though our survival rate is quite low, even by our profession's standard. Traveling with me are the newest initiate, Azreal, whose disdain for most other beings is unsettling, and Valekor, a dragon borne and sorcerer.

We were about fifty feet down the hundred foot rope when the cavern widened as Gooba, our goblin spelunker, had said it would. Gooba is a member of our group, summoned from Gods know where by the previous owner of this box on my hip.

I settle in on solid garbage and survey the room. The walls are curved and made of garbage and stone, with a door built into the wall nearest I. The hole we descended from continues downwards in the center of the room. Azreal, upon getting his bearings, wanders over to the door and kicks it at it's hinges. His foot connects with a loud boom, but the door doesn't swing in, it shoots out.

Did I mention I hate traps?

A powerful force hits Azreal, Valekor, and I, Propelling us towards the pit. I catch the rope I had just recently let go of, while Azreal and Valekor slam into the far side of the hole and grapple at refuse attempting to pull themselves up. They fail and into the abyss they go.

With a sigh, I slide down the rope after them.

With the assistance of Valekor's sunrod I am able to clearly see the bottom. Two humanoid shapes stand up and turn toward something clearly...Odd. Hundred of mouths built into a slimy fleshy mass slides towards them. Azreal runs towards it drawing his sword on the way, and Valekor heads away channeling something in hands. I decide it would be a very wise idea to hurry down the rope and help them.

Azreal sinks his blade into the creature as one of its many mouths sink into his arm. A fireball spirals from Valekor's outstretched hand, causing the beast to burst into flames. Every mouth on the damn thing opens and a chilling howl splits the air. I cover my ears instinctively, deafening the scream, but allowing me to become well acquainted with gravity. I plummet.

I stand, rubbing my bum and moaning. Seeing my compatriots up close I am able to tell they are not doing as well as I had hoped. A bone juts out of Valekor's arm, while Azreal struggles with getting his sword out of one of the monster's mouths.

"You guys can do it! I have faith in you!" a female voice calls from above. The combat pauses for a moment as we all look up, spying nothing. I take this time to lunge at the creature, stabbing it with my lute bayonet. It clamps down on it, and I play a short chord psychically distracting the beast. The mouths then reopen and release a pained howl.

I stumble backward, barely avoiding Valekor's Breath of Fire, as Azreal and the beast go up in flames. I play a short chord toughening Azreal's Skin against the flames, Hoping that would be enough to keep him conscious.

The creature collapses into a heap, and Azreal stumbles away from it. Bleeding from several wounds.

A single bolt falls from above almost hitting the dead apparition.

I mutter, "I hate traps." Approaching Valekor "Lets see what I can do about your arm."

"Thanks, Ballad." His words dripping with relief as the bone magically slides back into his arm and the wound closes.

"Someone was watching us fight this thing," Azreal points out, "and someone is getting kicked down this damn hole. Whether they are the same person or not depends on how fast you patch me up, Bard."

He speaks while sitting in a corner arms held out towards me. Various Cuts and bruises line them, but no bones appear to be broken. The patch up job for the group will take no more than five minutes, and then we are off to see what fool shot a bolt at a dieing monster, and possibly kick them down the hole.

To be Continued...