Hunger Games

“This isn’t good,” Nat said with a worried look. He’d just examined Marcus Endrin, who Tomas had discovered locked in a secret cell in the Gray Maidens’ prison underneath the Longacre Building. The once proud and confident commandant of the Sable Company Marines stared blankly at the wall behind Nat, a thin trickle of drool running down his chin. “I’m pretty sure they’ve cast Feeblemind on him,” Nat concluded. “If that’s what it is, we’re going to need someone with more powerful magic than anything we have to cure him.”

“Bishop d’Bear can Heal him,” Wren said confidently. “If we can get him back to her.” She looked up at the clang of a cell door out in the hallway. Jax was busy freeing all the other prisoners, and there was a mounting buzz of excited voices as door after door banged open.

“Keep it quiet out there!” Erin commanded in a whisper that somehow managed to sound like a shout. “We need to get these women out of here!” she said as she turned back to the others. “They’re making so much noise that they’ll alert the people upstairs, and we’ll have another fight on our hands.” The group filed out into the cell block, and helped Erin usher all the prisoners back to the secret door leading back to the sewers. Once everyone was together, Wren cast a quick Channel Positive Energy to bring the injured prisoners back to health. “Now let’s get them out of here,” she said.

“There are still some rooms we haven’t checked out yet,” Tomas countered. “We don’t want to leave anything important behind.” That started a short debate about the merits of fully exploring the secrets of Deathhead Vault, vs saying ‘enough is enough’ and getting out while the getting was good. Ultimately, Erin and Tomas couldn’t be swayed, so Wren led the prisoners out into the sewers to join Thousand Bones, with strict orders not to wander off until they returned.

Having decided to fully explore the Gray Maidens’ lair, Tomas started with the room from which their reinforcements had been coming during the recent fight. It held the stairs that led up into the Longacre Building, but there was another door that no one had checked yet. It was ajar, and he nudged it fully open with his foot, bow at the ready. It led into a corridor of dormitory rooms, each holding a pair of simple bunks and armor and weapon stands. At the end of the hall was a larger room, outfitted to serve as both a bedroom and study. A table along one wall held several folders of documents, and an elaborate suit of silvery, feminine armor was on display on the other wall.

“This must have been that elf’s quarters,” Wren said, running her fingers over the beautiful armor. “I wonder why she wasn’t wearing this, instead of that boring plate armor she had on?” Nat was gathering up the papers, having confirmed that the armor was the only magical thing in the room As they filed back down the hallway, Wren did a quick count of beds vs bodies they’d left strewn throughout the prison complex. “I think we’ve found everyone,” she said as she completed her mental math.

That left one area unexplored. Just past Kordaitra’s quarters was an area where the hall made a dogleg turn and widened out. The wider corridor led down a flight of shallow stairs to a large pair of double doors. As the group cautiously advanced, they could see that the stonework here was very different from the rest of the prison. The area was much older, carved from granite bedrock rather than the sandstone walls of the newer building. “Maybe they broke through into some older catacombs when they were building the Longacre Building,” Tomas speculated.

Jax listened at the double doors, but heard nothing but silence. Making sure everyone was ready, he pushed the doors open. They found themselves looking into a long burial crypt. Alcoves on either side of the room held ancient stone sarcophagi, their lids missing. At the far end, a short flight of broad stairs led to another room. A large creature, looking like an emaciated human with the head of a jackal, stood at the top of the stairs. As the doors opened, it dropped into a defensive crouch and snarled, but did not immediately attack. It cocked its head and considered the party with curiosity.

“Ah … visitors!” it purred in a low, melodious voice. “Perhaps you can give me news of what’s happening in the city above.” It made no move to advance.

Erin decided this had been a very bad idea. “Uh, sorry – wrong room!” she stammered, and moved to close the doors, but Wren stepped forward. “What is it you’d like to know?” she asked politely.

“Tell me – is the city above still wracked by disease?” the thing asked eagerly. “Are the people dying in the streets? Are they … starving?” Its jackal head began to pant.

Wren wasn’t sure where this was going, but she tried to answer truthfully. “Well, the plague killed a lot of people, but it’s mostly under control now. People are still struggling, especially in Old Korvosa, but things are getting better.” She decided to fish for a little information of her own. “Have you had any contact with anyone in the city?”

“Alas, no,” it replied. “I have a … special mission, and must remain here. I speak only to my mistress.”

“Who is your mistress?” Shadow asked eagerly, suspecting the thing might serve Queen Ileosa.

The creature bared its teeth in a smile. “You have many questions. I have many answers. We can exchange information – I will answer your questions if you answer mine. Now tell me – are the people of Korvosa starving yet?”

Wren wasn’t sure why this thing was so obsessed with starvation, but she tried to answer as best she could. “Well, there are a lot of hungry people in Old Korvosa. And I’m sure there are some elsewhere, too, but …”

Shadow could see what the creature wanted to hear, and he interrupted Wren. “Yes! People are starving to death left and right!”

The thing seemed to shudder in ecstasy. “Yes! Tell me! Tell me of the last person you saw starve to death! Was it a man or a woman? Or a child! Was it a child? Were its lips parched, its belly distended? Tell me!”

Shadow started spinning lies. “It was a woman. She was young, but was so frail she couldn’t walk. Her skin was stretched tight over her bones and her lips were dry and cracked with thirst. She was moaning with hunger, dying of starvation even though there was food just out of her reach.”

The creature seemed almost orgasmic as Shadow described this horror. “Yes! Yes! Oh my gods, yes! Food just out of her reach! How rich! How perfect!”

“Now tell us,” Shadow demanded. “Do you serve Queen Ileosa?”

The creature smiled again. “That little fool? No. She plays at her games, but I serve the true power. I serve the one whom the Queen serves.”

“And who does the Queen serve?” Shadow asked warily.

“She serves my mistress – Zenobia Zenderholm.”

That took everyone by surprise – they’d thought Zenobia was just another pawn of Queen Ileosa’s. Everyone, that is, except Nat. “I knew it!” he muttered to himself. “I knew she was behind it all!” He grabbed Shadow by the collar. “Well, it’s been nice talking to you,” he called to the creature as he pulled Shadow back and reached for the door handles. “Maybe you can clean up out here – we left a bit of a mess.”

“Oh no,” the thing replied sadly. “I’m afraid I can’t leave this place. I am charged to guard my mistress’s boudoir.”

Nat froze, the blood draining from his face. He struggled to keep his voice from quavering. “Well, have fun with that.” He practically flung Shadow out of the room and pulled the heavy doors closed with a bang, then slumped to the floor.

“Gods that thing gave me the creeps!” Erin shuddered. “Let’s get out of here before it comes after us.”

“No!” Nat shouted, and struggled back to his feet. He lowered his voice back down to a whisper. “We can’t leave! We have to go back in there!” Everyone stared at him in shock. “What on earth for?” Erin finally asked.

“Zenobia! Did you see what she was? She was a penanggalen! They’re undead creatures that separate their heads and organs from the rest of their bodies.”

“Yeah, and we pretty much smashed her head and organs to a pulp.” Jax responded.

“But that might not be enough! If her body still exists, she might be able to reform in it, and come back to life!”

Wren furrowed her brow, trying to recall as much as she could about penanggalen and their ilk. “I’m not sure that’s how it really works,” she began, but Nat wasn’t listening.

“You heard that thing! Zenobia was the one behind all of this! She’s the one who brought Blood Veil to Korvosa! She’s responsible for the riots! It’s all her fault! If we don’t destroy her body, she’ll come back and this will never end!” Tears were running down Nat’s face as his voice grew more and more strident. Jax and Tomas exchanged worried looks; Nat clearly had some personal vendetta against Zenobia Zenderholm and it was threatening spill over to engulf them all.

“What was that thing, anyway?” Jax asked, more to distract Nat from his obsession than because he really wanted to know.

“It was a Meladaemon,” Nat replied confidently.

“Oh great – you want us to fight a demon,” Jax growled.

“Not a demon – a daemon. Daemons are from the plane of Abbadon. They’re creatures of utter chaos and destruction – they want to destroy all of existence. You’ve heard of the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse? That thing in there – a meladaemon – serves Famine itself.”

The group could see that there was no talking Nat out of his obsession, so they began to discuss strategy. “OK, here’s the plan,” Shadow proposed. “We’ll open the door and say we have ‘just one more question’. Then I’ll fry him with a Lightning Bolt, Tomas can fill him with arrows, and Nat can … well, whatever Nat feels like. Everybody ready?” There was a flurry of action as people cast protective spells and got their weapons ready, then Shadow took his place at the front of the party, ready to blast. He nodded to Erin, and she pushed the doors open.

“Just one more …” Shadow began, then his words froze in his throat. The meladaemon was standing right in front of them, grinning hungrily. He bellowed some words in some discordant language, and they all felt their flesh begin to wither and crack, as all the moisture was drawn from their bodies by the creature’s Horrid Wilting. Then he followed up with a volley of Quickened Magic Missiles that flashed over their heads, directly towards Nat, at the back of the party. Just as the bolts of energy were about to impact, they suddenly evaporated, and Nat thanked his lucky stars that he’d cast Shield before the battle started.

Jax could barely stand after the daemon’s spell, and now he felt himself racked by hunger pangs that left him so fatigued he could barely put one foot in front of the other; he retreated to gulp down healing potions. Grizz rushed forward to take his place, but the daemon’s long arms clawed at him before he even got there. They not only ripped away a big chunk of flesh, but also left him starving and tired. His blade glanced off the daemon’s thick hide, barely scratching him. Tomas fired a brace of arrows that also barely penetrated the thing. Nat unleashed a Fireball behind it, but the flames only singed its fur.

Shadow hadn’t intended to be standing on the front lines when he’d crafted this strategy, but that’s where he found himself now. He scrambled away from the daemon, but its long reach also clawed him as he fled. He knew that daemons had lots of energy resistances, and he’d seen Nat’s flames hardly touch it, so he decided to try a different tack. He cast Fear, and although the spell didn’t send the daemon fleeing in terror, it did at least seem somewhat shaken. Wren called down a Flame Strike on the daemon’s head, and while the spell’s holy light seemed to do a little damage, the flames did none.

Erin was ready for this. As they were preparing, Nat had warned her that daemons were only vulnerable to good-aligned weapons, so she’d called upon her Divine Bond with Iomedae to imbue her sword with Holy power. She stepped up, and swung her sword at the creature before them. It managed to dodge one of her blows, but the other drew a shriek of pain as her glowing blade sliced deep into its vitals.

The daemon backed away from Erin and cast Waves of Fatigue that left everyone except Nat incredibly tired. It then blasted Erin with a volley of Magic Missiles in retaliation for the pain she’d caused it. Jax summoned Ball Lightning to harry the daemon, but it easily evaded the flying globes.

But by now, they had its measure. Erin had critically wounded it, and Tomas was determined to finish it off. He abandoned his normal arrows, and reached into his quiver for the adamantine arrows he’d had made. Within seconds, three arrows sank deep into the thing’s flesh, sending it staggering back, blood gushing from its wounds. Nat knew that pure light was one form of energy that few creatures were immune to, so he summoned an Orb of Light and flung it at the creature. It exploded in a brilliant flash that sent the daemon tumbling down the hall like a rag doll.

Still panting from fatigue, everyone gathered around Wren for healing. Once they felt well enough to proceed, Erin crept down the corridor and up the stairs, sword at the ready. Even as she climbed the stairs, she could smell the rank odor of vinegar. She peered around the corner into the room the daemon had been guarding. A stone sarcophagus sat on a raised dais, its lid pushed aside. The walls of the room around it were lined with three-foot tall vats of vinegar. She cautiously approached the sarcophagus; inside was the headless body of a woman, dressed in severe, dark gray clothing. The body was strangely sunken, as if emptied, but her arms and legs bore the unmistakable scars of Blood Veil pox.

Wren wrinkled her nose as she sniffed one of the vats of vinegar. “This makes sense. A penanggalen has to return to her body every morning, but to get her organs to fit back in, she has to soak them in vinegar.”

Erin was examining the body’s pox scars, nodding her head. “I suspected as much – that daemon was just feeding us a pack of lies. If Zenobia was really ‘in charge’, how could she have contracted Blood Veil? And this looks like it was a really severe case – it’s likely what killed her.”

“No!” Nat was standing over the sarcophagus, hands shaking. “It was her! I know it was! It was all her fault!” He began stabbing at the body with his dagger, hacking and slashing at the inanimate corpse. His dagger slipped from his grasp, but he continued pounding with his bare fists as sobs wracked his body. “No! No! It’s your fault! Your fault!” His blows grew weaker and weaker, and at last he slid down the side of the stone coffin and huddled with his arms around his knees, crying inconsolably. Erin sat down beside him and held his hand, making soft shushing sounds until the wave of grief passed.

At last Nat’s sobs subsided. He wiped his nose on his sleeve and rose shakily to his feet. Shadow stared into his eyes for a long moment, then slowly poured a vial of Alchemist’s Fire into the sarcophagus, and tossed in a match. Lurid flames lit the ancient burial crypt as the group slowly filed out.

They found the prisoners waiting for them in the sewers as they’d been ordered, and Grizz led them back through the maze of pipes to the entrance. Jax climbed the ladder first, to make sure it was safe, then stood watch as the women began to climb out.

“I’m outta here,” Grizz said gruffly, and turned to leave.

“Wait! You’re not coming with us?” Wren asked, surprised. The wererat just shook his head and kept walking.

“Is there something we can do for you? Something to help make up for everything that’s been done to your people?” Erin called.

“Not interested,” Grizz growled over his shoulder. He turned a corner and vanished into the sewers.

By the time they got everyone up into the alley the eastern sky was beginning to lighten. “We need to get all these women back to Field Marshall Kroft.” Wren stated, but Jax just stared at her open mouthed.

“Are you nuts? There are a dozen of them, plus Thousand Bones. And Endrin has to be led around like a little kid! How are we going to get them all the way across town without being caught by a patrol.”

“Um … you might want to count again,” Shadow said. Sure enough, while they’d been arguing, three of the women had slipped away into the night, and more were edging towards the far end of the alley. “We just want to go home,” one said softly, and heads began nodding in agreement all around.

That settled it, so they wished the former captives well, and set off for the Gray District accompanied by only Thousand Bones and Marcus Endrin. They managed to avoid any patrols on the way back, and soon were speaking the password to reenter the secret rebel headquarters in the Dead Warrens. Cressida Kroft and Bishop d’Bear were waiting anxiously for them, and were delighted to see Marcus Endrin with them, but their expressions grew grim as they realized the condition he was in. The Bishop examined him, and confirmed Nat’s diagnosis. “Feeblemind. Damn them – what a cruel fate for a man like this! But I can make him whole again. I don’t have the spell memorized right now, but I can cast Heal on him tomorrow. She led the commandant back into the Warrens to rest.

Thousand Bones turned to the party. “You had already done me and my people a great favor by returning my grandson’s body to us. Now you have rescued me from captivity and torture, but I sense that this was not done out of simple generosity – I believe you want something from me in return. Ask, and if it is within my power I shall give it to you.”

Tomas recounted the tale they’d heard from Neolandus – how he suspected the Queen had stumbled on some great evil hidden beneath Castle Korvosa, something called ‘Midnight’s Teeth’ that had been hidden there since Shoanti times. “We’re hoping you can tell us what it was. And what it might have done to the Queen,” he finished.

Thousand Bones was silent for some time, his face a mask. Finally he spoke. “Your people say that Ko-Manalane, the hill upon which you built your castle, is sacred to us. They are wrong. That place is not sacred – it is not a home to our spirits or gods. It is evil, and it was our duty to guard it, to ensure that evil never escaped. But I do not know what that evil is. The name ‘Midnight’s Teeth’ is not entirely unfamiliar to me — it is a name associated with a great and ancient evil, and many Shoanti believe to repeat such a name aloud is to preserve the evil. This, coupled with the deaths of so many lore keepers in our wars with your people, has sequestered the knowledge you seek in the minds of a rare few.

“The Shoanti have several clans – there once were more, but many have been wiped out by your people. I am a shaman of the Skoan-Quah, the Clan of the Skull. Our clan are hunters, and farmers. The Sklar-Quah, the Clan of the Sun are the largest of the clans, and they are warriors. It was their duty to guard the evil of Ko-Manalane, and only their shamans knew the stories of why our people came here or what they protected.

“There was a Sun Shaman of the Sklar-Quah here in Korvosa with me, a man named One-Life. I was attempting to mend relations with your government, so that more of our people could return to Korvosa, and the Sklar-Quah could resume their ancestral duty, even if in secret. But after my grandson was murdered, One-Life grew angry, and left the city to join bands of his people still living in the Mindspin Mountains, to ready them to join with his people from the Cinderlands to make war on Korvosa.

“But he did not make it. Three days after he left Korvosa, his party was ambushed by a patrol of Hellknights. Most were killed; only one escaped to return here to tell me that One-Life had been captured, and carried off to Citadel Vraid as a prisoner. If you wish to know what was hidden beneath your castle, you will have to somehow convince the Knights of the Nail to release the Sun Shaman to you.”

There was a long silence as this sank in. “Are you fucking kidding me?” Shadow muttered under his breath. Jax began pacing the room. “OK – who do you know who might have influence with the Hellknights?” he asked Kroft. “How about Vencarlo? Or Kalepopolis! He was the seneschal! I’ll bet they’d listen to him!”

Kroft shook her head. “We need to keep Neolandus in hiding. We can’t risk the Hellknights knowing he’s alive – what if they told the Queen? And I’m sure that Vencarlo …” She stopped herself. “I was about to say that Vencarlo has likely never had any dealings with the Knights of the Nail, but with that man … you never know.”

“Would they listen to you? What if you wrote them a letter, telling them we need their help?”

Kroft shook her head again. “I’ve had a good professional relationship with Lictor DiViri – we’ve always worked well together. But I have no illusions that I have any influence over the man. And I wouldn't want to risk you being captured with anything that had my name on it.”

“What’s the deal with the Hellknights, anyway?” Jax asked. “Are they just paid mercenaries for the city, or what?”

Kroft took a deep breath. “You have to recall that as recently as 60 years ago, when Queen Domina took the throne, this part of Varisia was still mostly untamed wilderness. The Chelish colonists and their descendants had carved out an enclave of civilization here on this peninsula, but between here and the Mindspins was all still under the control of the Shoanti, as was most of the land north and east of the Jeggare River. White settlers were trying to establish towns and farms, but they were under constant attack by the Shoanti.

“One of the first things Queen Domina did was to reach out to the Order of the Nail. This order of Hellknights was devoted to stamping out savagery and spreading civilization, and Queen Domina made them an offer that aligned with their mission. If they would relocate to Varisia and eliminate the Shoanti threat, she would pay for them to build a fortress to serve as their headquarters. They agreed, and within thirty years the Shoanti were all but eliminated from southern Varisia, pushed back into the Cinderlands. The lands all around were made safe for farms and settlements. True to her word, Queen Domina had Citadel Vraid built on the northern slopes of the Mindspin Mountains to serve as the Hellknights’ base of operations.”

Thousand Bones snorted in anger. “That is the white man’s version of the story. For the Shoanti, it is much different. This land was our home for generations upon generations, until the white invaders came from the south and stole it from us. The Hellknights are the savages, worse than any wild beast. They slaughtered innocent women and children and old men, burned village after village, until our people were pushed back into a barren and hostile desert, far from our ancestral lands. They see us as nothing more than animals, and hate us for simply being.”

“Why would the Hellknights take One-Life prisoner, instead of just killing him?” Jax asked. He was worried that maybe the Hellknights were after the same secret knowledge that they were.

Thousand Bones shrugged. “They keep many of our people as slaves, to work until they die from exhaustion. Or to execute for their own entertainment.”

Jax shuddered, then turned back to Kroft. “What kind of reception do you think we’ll get if we just turn up at Citadel Vraid?”

Now it was Kroft’s turn to shrug. “If you don’t appear to be attacking, I can’t see why you’d get a hostile reception. Whether DeViri will grant you an audience or not is another question. He’s not an unreasonable man – he’s actually got a very good sense of humor – but his motivations are his own.”

There was a loud clatter from the far corner of the room. Everyone turned to see Wren pouring suits of plate armor out of one of the Bags of Holding. “Do you think you can sell some of these for us, and pick up a few items that might help us?” she asked the Field Marshal.

“Are you crazy?” Kroft gasped. “You can’t sell those things within fifty miles of Korvosa without getting executed! And most of my budget has been diverted to the Gray Maidens. If I suddenly start buying lots of expensive gear, there are going to be a lot of questions about where I got the money.”

Wren looked at Kroft with an expression of anger and exasperation. “I thought you were supposed to be helping us! What are you doing for us? You’re just sitting around and making us take all the risks!”

The Field Marshall’s face grew red with anger. She opened her mouth to retort, then clamped it shut. “I think everyone’s had a long, hard day,” she said curtly. “There are beds in the back – I hope you get a good night’s rest.” She spun on her heel and strode out of the room.

“Sounds like somebody hit a nerve,” Shadow chuckled from the far side of the room. While Kroft had been expounding on the history of the Knights of the Nail, he’d been going through the papers they’d found in the elf woman’s room. “Come take a look at this,” he said, holding up a stack of folders. As everyone gathered around, he fanned the folders out on the table before him. “It looks like the elf – her name was ‘Tisharue’ by the way – was sort of a ‘political officer’ for the Gray Maidens. Each of these folders are notes on different members of the Gray Maidens. Seems she was watching for any signs of disloyalty or ‘relapse’. If she saw anything she thought was suspicious, she could recommend ‘re-education’ to bring the offender back in line – or permanently off-line. And get this!” He held up one particularly thick folder. “It seems that our Tisharue had quite a few concerns about one particular Gray Maiden: none other than her own boss, Sabina Merrin.”

“The Queen’s bodyguard?” Erin gasped.

Shadow nodded. “And the Commander of the Gray Maidens. Seems Tisharue thought Sabina hadn’t undergone the same level of ‘conditioning’ as the later recruits, and had the potential to become a traitor to the cause. It doesn’t look like she’d gathered enough evidence to go over her boss’s head to the Queen yet, though.”

That raised all kinds of questions that they had no idea what to do with. By this time it was mid-morning, and they’d been up all night, and were still suffering from the meladaemon’s supernatural fatigue as well. One of the rooms of the former derro warren had been converted into a barracks, and they collapsed onto the cots and didn’t wake until late the next evening.

They were just finishing dinner (after their encounter with the meladaemon they were sure they would ever get full again) when Cressida Kroft came in. She tossed four scroll cases onto the table. “Virtually every bit of magic in our armory has been commandeered by the Gray Maidens, but I’d kept those back for an emergency,” she said, pointedly not looking at Wren. Nat took a peek at the scrolls: four scrolls of Teleport.

“Is that how you suggest we get to Citadel Vraid?” he asked.

Kroft shrugged (she was getting good at it). “Up to you." She went to another table, under the large map of Korvosa on the wall, and rummaged through the collection of scrolls on it, then returned and unfurled a map of Varisia on the table before them. “Citadel Vraid is here,” she said, jabbing a finger at the map. “forty or fifty miles west/southwest of Korvosa. The terrain is fairly easy – probably about a four-day hike, if the weather’s good. Or you could Teleport.” Nat studied the map closely; it didn’t look terribly precise to him, and he worried about just where they might end up if he trusted to his sense of direction to get them there magically. “Um … can you get us some horses?” he asked.

“Oh for …” Kroft looked like she might explode, but then she took several deep breaths. “I suppose I could find some horses,” she said at last. She was keeping her voice very low, as if that was the only alternative to shouting. “But it will take a few days to do it without raising attention. And we’ll have to figure out how to get them past the guards and out of the city. And where to meet you with them.”

“That’s fine – we’ll just walk,” Tomas said quickly to defuse the situation. Besides, he was pretty sure that Nat had never sat on a horse before, and didn't trust the wizard’s backside to survive a three-day ride.

They waited until the pre-dawn hours, then gathered by the city wall at the far southern end of the Gray District. Thousand Bones was there to say his good-byes – he wasn’t willing to risk travelling to the Hellknights’ castle, for fear they’d never allow him to leave. “Go with the ancestors,” he said solemnly, “and return with my friend.”

They used Dimension Door to pop past the city wall, almost to the stand of woods that grew a quarter mile south of the city. There were two roads leading south from Korvosa, but they stayed off both of them, to avoid any contact with patrols. They soon met the road leading west, to the sea, but stayed off of it as well, keeping parallel to its path. It was lightly traveled, and those they did see on it were mostly farmers taking their crops into the city, or merchants heading out from it, but they didn’t want to risk any idle talk of a strange group of heavily-armed travelers passed on the road.

The air was pleasantly cool, with autumn approaching. The first night passed without incident, and they continued on the next day. They were travelling through rich farmland south of Conqueror’s Bay, interspersed with stands of pine and hardwood forest. Farmsteads dotted the landscape, along with a handful of hamlets, but they stayed clear of them. The craggy peaks of the Mindspin Mountains loomed to the south, dark and foreboding.

They made camp just off the road that night, building a blazing fire to ward off the chill. As they were preparing to bed down, Tomas heard a twig snap to the north. He saw Jax’s head snap around, and knew he’d heard it, too. It could just be an animal moving through the night … or not. “Heads up!” he hissed. “We may have company.”

Jax stood, stretching as though preparing for bed, and slid a few steps to his left. As he did, a pit suddenly opened up in the earth where he had just been standing! Shadow and Erin felt the earth giving way beneath them, and rolled aside just in time to avoid dropping into its depths. Their campfire was not so lucky, and the blaze of sparks as it fell illuminated rows of sharp spikes at the bottom of the pit before it was extinguished, dropping them into inky darkness.

A trio of arrows flew out of the darkness past Tomas’s ears, and he strained his eyes to try to find their source, but he could see nothing. The silence of the night was shattered by an ear-piercing screaming sound as a crossbow bolt flew towards Erin, followed immediately by another. They narrowly missed; their shooter had aimed at where he’d last seen her, but the disappearance of the campfire had masked her. The pair of bolts slammed into a tree behind her with such force that they threatened to split the trunk.

Everyone was scanning the darkness for any sign of their attackers, without success. But Shadow, thanks to the elven side of his heritage, could see a bit farther in the starlight. He spotted a figure in a floppy hat crouching beside a tree on the far side of the road, a heavy repeating crossbow in his hands. He caught a flicker of movement out of the corner of his eye and spotted another person in the trees on the opposite side of the party, moving his hands as if preparing to cast a spell. This person’s garb was unmistakable – he wore the scarlet armor and insectoid mask of a Red Mantis Assassin!

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The PCs earned 12,934 XP for cleaning out Deathhead Vault, rescuing the prisoners, and recovering the documents. You’re now at 115,777 XP and Level 11, with 145,000 required for Level 12.