Crossover - Chapter 40

Shaddar and his crew arrive at the edge of what must be The Well.  It looks like a monstrous sinkhole bored right down into the rock.  Ancient and crumbling signs surround the border of the area with faded warnings to stay away from the evil and dangerous place.  Many of the signs warn that undead are known to haunt the area. 

Some of the slaves begin to gibber at the signs and the fact that they are travelling to some cursed or taboo locale.  Even the weak slaves whimper and tremble as they see the dire warnings about undead.

“Undead again,” Shaddar thinks.  “These people are very frightened of undead.  Yet I have not seen any signs of undead – I wonder if what they fear is real or if it is just a story like the bedtime tales of Devils at the crossroads?  Or Mist Demons?”  His tentacles writhe with humor at the thought.

The walls of the sinkhole have some stairs carved right into them.  In some places the stairs have collapsed leaving only a sheer wall, but overall the staircase winds down slowly like a corkscrew into the depths of the pit.

“We have arrived,” Shaddar proclaims.  “Kug?  Gather our supplies.  We’ll rest for a bit before we make the descent and make camp somewhere on the way down.”  It would be annoying to have travelers wander into their camp and that is not very likely if they are underground.

The hobgoblins unload the climbing gear, food, and other supplies from the wagon, while Kug unharnesses the horses and lets them wander for pasture.  They push the wagon into some bushes to hide it.  Hopefully the horses and the wagon will be here when they emerge, but if not, Shaddar is sure that they can obtain alternate transport. 

“It is a near certainty that some other group will be lucky enough to play my lottery game on the return trip to Big City!”

The newest slaves are moaning and wailing in the common way of all new captives.  Shaddar tunes them out easily.

The hobgoblins can see the fear in the slave’s eyes and are enjoying lording over their former betters.  Kug has a grand idea that his entire crew thinks is great sport.

“You humans will go first,” Kug announces.  Much hooting of approval.

“But there could be undead down there!” whines one of their most recent acquisitions. 

“Right!” Kug says with a deep chuckle, “So one of you gets gnawed on and not us – that’s the idea!”

The slaves have to be whipped a bit to force them to move after this kind of talk, but Shaddar doesn’t mind.  The quality of their hides will not lessen their value to him, after all.

Toothsnatcher keeps an eye out for potential camping spots.  Shaddar notes that the stairs are covered in small bits of debris, dust, and weeds.  It is quite clear that the stair has not been used for a very long time, as only their footprints are visible as tracks.

Suddenly, the lead slave slips off the edge of the stair and goes wailing into the darkness!

The chain that attaches all of the slave together yanks the next two off the edge as well, before the hobgoblins grab hold of the last three slaves and prevent the whole string of them from falling.  This causes the slaves on the end to swing into the rock wall of the sinkhole with yelps of pain.  There is much screaming and yelling.

As the hobgoblins haul the slaves up from their predicament, Shaddar notes that the rock that tipped the slave over was not an accident.  It is a mechanical trap of clever construction.  As he watches, the well-oiled and maintained mechanism pulls the stone back into place and resets with a click.

“How is such a fine trap maintained?  I see no tracks?  Perhaps there is a tunnel underneath that allows them to be serviced?” Shaddar thinks.  “This indicates a proactive response to unwelcome visitors that goes beyond the weak methods I have seen put into place by the humans.  But who is protecting or defending this place?  And why?”  He resolves to seek answers during his expedition of these questions as well as the ones that initially brought him here.

Toothsnatcher hands out a length of rope for everyone to tie themselves together with.  Better that minor annoyance than fall to their death.  The lead slave has a broken nose from his impact with the rock wall, but that concerns no one.

The group only travels for about half an hour after this excitement before the minotaur finds a suitable spot to stop for a longer rest.  A portion of the wall collapsed centuries ago and created a large hollow right next to the stairs.  They all pile into the gaping recess and prepare for their bivouac.

The night passes uneventfully. 

Daylight barely filters down into the cool recesses of the Well.  Despite the patch of glowing sky that can be seen above, the slaves still require a lantern in order to descend.  Now that they have discovered that the stairs are not only naturally dangerous from the damaged sections, but also actively trapped, the hobgoblins are more insistent than ever that the humans go first.

They must work carefully to get past some parts of the staircase where it has fallen, usually using ropes to climb straight down to the next level of the winding path.  Toothsnatcher is not idle.  The slow pace gives him ample time to instruct and critique the hobgoblins in underground lore.  The hobgoblins make noticeable improvements with his expert aid.

Several more traps are ‘found’ by the slaves.  Each time, they suffer only minor injuries, but in all cases the traps are quiet and reset quickly.  Once they have to pause for 20 minutes to patch up one fellow who was knocked out by his own impact with the wall after arcing out into space.

It takes another six hours of hard work to reach the bottom.

Shaddar is unsurprised to see a huge carpet of bones from victims of the cleverly hidden traps.  He knew that the traps must be effective or else they would not have received such care in their maintenance.  None of the bodies appears to be too recent.  Which actually speaks much of the persistence of whomever cares for them – if they haven’t caught anyone in years why the dedication in their up-keep?

While thinking about this, Shaddar hears movement.  Toothsnatcher’s axe is instantly in his hands.

There is a clatter of sliding bones as undead skeletons rise up and converge quickly upon their group.  The unarmed human slaves begin to scream in terror.  Kug and Toothsnatcher shout out orders to the hobgoblins and the battle is quickly joined!

Shaddar does not lower himself to participate.  His minions can handle such foes without him – and that’s what minions are for, after all.  He watches with a critical eye to see how well they will perform.  For the most part they do well.  A few take minor injuries, but those can be the best instructors.  Overall, Shaddar is satisfied with their battle performance.

Like most battles, it is over within minutes.  The last skeleton’s skull is smashed to shards by Kug’s club and Shaddar is pleased to see that the thoughts of all the hobgoblins are ones of triumph and valor.  His small army has begun to identify themselves as warriors.

Good.

While the wounded are tended to, Shaddar examines the bottom of the Well with Toothsnatcher.  The floor is perfectly flat, other than piles of rock and debris that has fallen down.  There seems to be only a single hallway leading from the central area.  It looks to have been carved into the stone – not a natural cave.  It is an arch with a width of what Shaddar guesses to be 30 feet.

Shaddar calls for his minions to join him and they start walking down the ancient hall.  The walls have been decorated with graceful curves carved into the stonework, giving the hall an almost organic feel that is quite comfortable for Shaddar, but seems to be unsettling for his fellow travelers.

Shaddar is excited by this.  Surely this indicates illithid workmanship?  And he is not wrong.  The proof of it is in several inscriptions that they come upon, written on both sides of the wall.  It is in Qualith, the written form of complex mental thoughts used only by those of the master race.  Four parallel lines of dashes and spaces must be read by drawing all four tentacles across them to read the four independent trains of thought that each line represents.  The composite of these written thoughts then form a whole picture for the reader. 

Quickly, Shaddar reads the writing with his tentacles. 

“No slave races are permitted beyond this point without those of the Elder Race to accompany them,” it reads.

Shaddar’s tentacles curl with satisfaction as he steps away from the wall.  This is the way to the settlement mentioned in Felinxtrath’s papers.

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