CHAPTER 1.44 - INTO THE BARROW: V
Hugo’s nerves are still clamouring as he forces himself back towards the guard room. He is impressed by Thae’s new strategy. The shield’s illumination is static, rather than being thrown around violently in the battle, but it concerns him that his friend has discarded vital protection. At least they outnumber the creatures he saw, the stable lighting providing Rian a solid target for his charge.
He’s unsettled, however, finding this new monster pierced through the left shoulder by Rian’s pike. The worrying aspect is that the lithe creature is clamping its feet onto the weapon’s shaft, levering itself upwards, unhooking itself from the blade. It seems unphased removing a span of metal from its shoulder, or vice versa. Thankfully, while the skeletons are faster and more perceptive than the shambling thing in the well, they remain fairly basic. The bony bastards are only now rushing back into the fray from their investigation of Hugo’s flipped token. He tries to ignore that this new corpse is much speedier and more purposeful than the skeletons.
He manages not to flinch as a purple mote streaks over his head. Anuk’s terrible projectile hits the lead skeleton squarely in its face, throwing the thing’s skull apart. As the thing deanimates suddenly, Hugo shivers as the guard’s bones, remaining scraps of clothing and weapons are projected towards the back of the room. He remembers the first time he saw the detonation, the obvious force radiating from the mote, but this current impact seems magnified, more brutal. He can’t help but jerk a glance back at the girl, the purple glow burning in her eyes as she moves to aim towards another creature.
He forces his head back to the combat, relieved as Thae’s column of golden light begins roasting the remaining guard’s bones. He tries to intercede, hit the lithe creature with a gout of flame, as it springs from Rian’s pike shaft towards the distracted cleric. The thing’s arms are thrown wide, mouth gaping as an uncomfortably long tongue twists towards the half-elf. Its fingers appear longer, solid claws extending from the fingerbones. His shot didn’t factor the thing’s speed, arcs uselessly towards the back of the room.
He watches in horror as the thing lands on Thae, the impact pushing his friend off-balance. The horror is a blur of sweeping claws as it tries to lock teeth onto the half-elf’s neck. Thae tries to recover the stumble into a spin, turning the thing towards the group, manages to fend off the monster’s tongue and teeth with the threat of the rapier. His next shot from the goblin ring impacts the thing on its torso, but worryingly close to hitting his friend.
He watches Anuk wheel to the remaining skeleton, having dismissed the risks associated with aiming at its apparent boss. Hears a clatter as Rian drops the pike in favour of the Warhammer. The big man begins to swing as he closes on the brawl. It’s in the nick of time, too, as Hugo observes the thing’s claws raking Thae’s arm where the chainmail has ridden up. The light wound, a scrape really, on Thae’s forearm immediately begins to discolour as he watches the cleric’s movements become lethargic. He recalls the feeling of his body freezing in the forest, the poison from the caterpillar creature making his joints feel like stone, his muscles seize and tighten. He recognises the look of horror on his friend’s face, begins to breathe again as the beast reacts with a hiss to the burn on its side and the approaching hammer, skittering back from Thae.
Rian gives chase, Anuk circling to ensure the man’s huge frame isn’t blocking her. She hit one of the skeleton’s arms, shattering the limb, but more importantly buying time before the thing can threaten them. It’s picking itself up from where it was flung by the impact. No matter how much he distrusts its source, he likes this new twist on her power. He positions himself between Thae and the monsters, for whatever protection he might represent. He tries not to acknowledge the tremor in his arm as he holds the black blade like a totem, a less than full demonstration of faith in his own ability.
Trying to keep an eye on each enemy, he sees his friends dividing their focus. Hears an impact as the head of the hammer catches one of the lithe thing’s claws as it swings for the woodsman. Anuk is striding implacably towards the skeleton, fresh mote missing the thing by inches. Again, he doesn’t fancy hitting the new creature’s prey, feels mixed emotions as his flames clip the skeleton, very nearly off target. The glancing contact sears the corpse’s decayed rags but achieves nothing. At least it is struggling to fend off their combined attacks.
He cannot spare the time nor attention to check on Thae, tries to push the associated panic aside. Kill the enemies, THEN pick up the pieces. Maybe Atheran has a point about adventuring. Who would risk this? Risk themselves unless compelled by absolute necessity? He confronts this thought straight on, easier to answer than his anxiety. This was the deal he made with Anuk, the compromise at the heart of their team. They’ve had little control of most things since meeting, but this expedition just seems spurious. Then again, it’s what he meant for their compact. She needed to interfere with this block of stone, so his job is to help. And who knows, treasure? In this dead place? Almost certainly, he thinks, trying for optimism but finding it lands as sarcasm.
Anuk and he continue to pour flares of magic towards the skeleton. Rian and the thing are manoeuvring cautiously, the big man unwilling to sacrifice his imposition between the monster and the group in a reckless attack. The beast is equally careful, Hugo certain that he detects a malevolent intelligence in its eyes. It seems ready to flee, the odds from its surprise attack now heavily skewed against it. Then his heart soars as he hears a sharp intake of breath from behind him, a column of pure light descending from the ceiling to transfix the thing.
It screams, anger and hatred infusing the wrecked, rasping voice as the monster’s flesh burns and bubbles. The scream cuts off sharply as the creature’s head is impacted by the hammer’s. Hugo knows the thing’s going to escape unless they finish this, fear solidifying around an image of it returning surrounded by minions. Apparently, his and Anuk’s assessments are similar as the pair ignore the beset skeleton, wheeling onto the malicious creature commanding it. He wonders idly if this is one of the robed creatures from the story room as the thing is blasted back against the altar stone. A hole is boring into its chest, a sear of fire encapsulating its right leg as the horror coughs out increasingly strangled glottal noises.
They are stunned for a moment, watching in case the monster is about to spring back into attack. Rian breaks the stasis quickest, racing towards the jerkily moving skeleton as he swings Thae’s beautiful weapon. The portion of shield on its remaining arm is raised as it tries to deflect the hammer’s arc. The weapon tears through the scraps of wood and metal, the arm bones beneath, glancing some shrapnel out of a rib as it plunges towards the thing’s jaw and neckbones. The bones become detached before the implacable steel reaches the skull, shooting the thing towards the far corner of the room. The swing was deadly, yet somehow only the skull is propelled with a force akin to one of Anuk’s tiny beads detonating.
They stand in awed silence catching their breath, Hugo straining to detect some crowd of dead things in the distance, stirred up by all this noise. The place, he thinks, is as silent as a grave. Thae’s forearm remains puffy, angry looking, but at least the discolouration has receded. The cleric catches the group’s concerned looks, offers a smile tinged with embarrassment. “Nasty, that thing. We had better look out for those.” And there it stands confirmed. They are operating on the assumption that more of those things exist.
Hugo looks around, primarily to Rian and Thae. “So, do you want to try to rest up?” He leaves his worries implied, but to no purpose. Thae’s head is shaking, Rian murmurs “We’re not going to be safe ‘til we clear this place.” None of them need to voice it, but he sees each of their eyes drawn southward, to a village unprepared for this threat.
They choose the eastern exit despite the prevailing opinion that this patrol came from the north. From deeper into the warren. A brief discussion solidified all of their concerns – sweep the place, clear their backs of monsters. The sentiment might have chilled Hugo more had any of his comrades cast their vote with less determination.
They pass through the desiccated door into another large room, around the size of the guard room but perpendicular in layout. Another room contrasting order and chaos, or possibly just disarray. The northwesterly corner is strewn with fragments of materials: pieces of wood, metal, the occasional candle or torch, apparently uncombusted. Anything on a path from the doorway through which they entered and the solid metal door set into the north wall has been atomised, presumably by skeletons prowling long established patrol paths. The remaining half of the room gives the clearest snapshot they have been granted to its previous purpose.
The far southeasterly corner contains full wooden boxes and crates, unopened and pristine bar the degradation of their materials. Closer to, the tidy stacks have been increasingly upset, boxes pried open or pulled apart sufficiently to expose their contents. One or two of the boxes, filling almost a quarter of the room, contained supplies relevant to a sealed community of the size suggested by the beds. The last boxes touched, however, are much more anomalous.
Accepting Rian’s help to lift him onto the fragile crates, Hugo crawls carefully towards the rear of the room. Passing over burst containers of very broken mining picks and tools – but seemingly broken prior to packing – he settles on a stable section before an unopened crate. Using the edge of the black knife, he prises up the lid. He almost laughs as the wood powders around a metal nail, but the chuckle dies in his throat. This crate seems to be filled with the white stone of the walls. But not pristine, polished, flat stone. Instead, he is convinced this is some of the detritus from the hollowing out of these spaces.
The realisation beggars his belief. Despite the stone plug suggesting some weird isolationist group, he refuses to believe that they hadn’t completed their burrow before moving in. To him, that seems like laying tracks under a minecart already accelerating downhill. The shape taking form in his mind again hits a dead end, although he has previously witnessed people committing way too hard to a terrible plan. His hand instinctually moved to his left, previously bruised, eye at that thought. Hugo struggles to tamp down the swell of associated emotions. But WHY, in a room of supplies a society might need, did they have boxes and boxes, most of their storage, full of…crap?
He eases his way back to the group, whispering what he found. He’s pleased to see similar disbelief in their faces. He almost falls as the last crate bursts into powder under his weight, is swept up easily by Rian. He’s unsurprised that Thae also grabbed for him, but gratified that even Anuk flinched as though to catch him. Rian, as ever, makes nothing of the gesture, places him gently on the ground with neither embarrassment nor mockery.
They turn to the heavy metal door, noting the levered locking device on their side of the barrier. This itself begs questions, raises his anxieties. Between himself and Rian they agree that it seems to be a locking or sealing mechanism – the door has a lip around it on this side, is wider than the usual passages and portals through which they have passed. They’re concerned it could conceal a trap or some other mechanism.
And of course, it begs the question of why the room behind is seeking to lock the contents in, rather than out? He tries to mute his sigh as he approaches the door with a couple of pieces of bent metal and the intention to find out.
