Odd, Bold Fellows

Skeleton Rush

Pog's stealth relied as much upon swift movement as it did careful concealment. His plunge under the waterfall was not blind, as even with eyes closed, he could paint a mental picture of the space within fifty feet of himself. This was not magic, just amphibious perception.

At the edge of a small lake awaited the adventurers, near a spring-fed waterfall that fell from the northern cliffs. Beyond the mountainous region was the sea. Pog did not return, so the men waded through.

Once inside, the men heard Pog's familiar skirl within the cavern's roof. Beyond, water and sunlight spilled into a small pool that supported three small trees. The pool released in a trickle that passed the men's ankles and joined the larger spill behind them.

"I don't see anything amiss," offered Pog, and Dirk paused to don his chest piece. "Have you ever fought skeletons before?"

"Aye!" Dirk nodded gravely as K'chak spat. The short Imperial continued. "Best be careful, brothers. They are as strong as the necromancer who commands them."

K'chak defended his village, "If he were weak, my people would surely have dealt with him!"

"No doubt, friend. Cover my back" Dirk lifted his voice. "Stay hidden, Pog. Every advantage is yours in this cavern. Use your strengths." Dirk clanked forward.

K'chak lifted his voice, clarifying his position. "That means no throwing daggers!"

The adventurers maneuvered around the pool, and started into the shaft of rock beyond. Pog crawled on the ceiling ahead, needing no light to tell his companions of the lay of the stone.

Dirk drew a lit torch from his haversack, marveling at the capabilities of the pack. K'chak did not try to be gracious. "See? I told you it was a good idea!"

Dirk thought throwing lit torches into bags was, in general, a poor choice, yet he simply trudged ahead, keeping himself and his tall brother behind his shield as they pressed on.

Even as the men thought they saw light ahead, Pog warned, "We have skeletons! Five. Six? No, eight! Um..."

Dirk tossed his torch before him, illuminating the hall of stone ahead as he drew his sword. He did not blame the goblin's math. Skeletons are difficult to count as they are rising.

Around the corner stepped a construct of the bone of Man, wielding an ancient club of wood and rust. K'chak's spear removed the head. As it teetered in place, Dirk's shield shattered the bones away from one another. The short shieldman grinned. "Easy peasy!"

The men advanced, dispatching a second skeleton in the same manner before winning the mouth of a carved room of graves carved within the very stone. This was no time to study ancient architecture however, as the occupants insisted the adventurers join their numbers forever.

At the roof of the hall, just within the doorway, Pog dared to lick a skull off of a skeleton. It tasted foul, but did not seem toxic, so old was the bone. Indeed, the unded construct seemed confused. Pog began to decapitate foes as they closed on his brothers. Dirk and K'chak cried out in triumph as they stepped through the breach, parting ways to defeat their easy opponents.

Dirk dodged a headless skeleton to bash a whole one into the wall. His backhand sword stroke crushed through the shoulder and into the ribs of another, snapping the spine. He then swiped at the original assailant as it spun, clipping away the arms before giving it a solid bash.

K'chak had room to spin his mighty spear overhead, swinging it in a wide arc by the bottom of the haft. Three skeletons shattered, he cared not how whole they started.

Pog crawled overhead on his four sticky feet, until he could leap on one, and ricochet to another. That is all the goblin did, yet both his undead targets fell in pieces. He stood in glee as Dirk lifted his weapon in celebration. K'chak was not pleased.

"Why have we been sent on this errand? There is nothing here my people cannot best!" He seemed suspicious, but there was nothing to do but stay and loot the room. They were adventurers, after all.

The items they found were too old to be of much value, aside from raw material in the case of jewelry. Still, it was something, and the party pressed on into the exiting hallway across from their entrance. They made their way carefully, but marked the corridor was carved, unlike the first passage of raw stone.

The adventures paused in the entrance of a great room, long and vaulted high. Upright sarcophagi lined the walls, leading to a dais with a rough throne of stone.

The floor, walls, columns, and all else was covered in a slimy yellow mold, that seemed to pulse in the room's torchlight. They only saw one occupant, and the men knew dread.

Tall she was, with the bearing of the noble-born. Red was her hair, as crimson as the setting sun. Flawless and white was her skin, if one neglected the tiny emerald scales that coalesced into the hide of her mighty wings and tail. K'chak cried out, unable to deny challenge, "What manner of beast are you?!?"

The green demoness turned her head in surprise, regarding the two men. The foul abomination turned fully on the party, and lifted a hand to her heart. "Oh, you idiots. I remember you, you know. I suppose it is not important. I have promised to forgive you. I see you up there, Pog! Mind the mold, I selected it for toxicity."

The men looked to one another, then looked up as Pog's skirl reverberated through the canyon. "Meet my aunt Meg. She's... eccentric."

The party looked across the way, to see the gorgeous horror ascend the ancient throne. She clapped her hands girlishly. "Adventures have been sent to stop my dire plans. I'm so excited!" The draconian woman's face lit up. "I have just the thing for you fools!"