The Unfortunate Events of the Cook and the Madman

Into the Caves

The two adventurers took a few tentative moves into the cave, the stream of water rushing past them to their left and a rocky path leading up into the darkness of the cavern. Just inside the mouth of the cave, to the right, were a few uneven stone steps that led up to a small, dank chamber.

Bale took to the steps to investigate, leading the way, Poppy coming up behind him. The stench of rotting meat and wet dog assaulted her nostrils. There was a quick rattle of chains and then the frightful snarling and barking of three very large wolves.

The hounds were tied up with lengths of chain around their neck and wrapped round the strong, sturdy stalagmite bases. The chain length cut the wolves short of reaching the pair but the beasts still struggled to break free, pulling wildly, barking up a great frenzy.

“Puppies!” Bale shouted in gleeful excitement, breaking into a run to meet the wolves, his arms stretched open wide to meet them.

The three wolves stopped, clearly confused by this act, by this complete lack of fear.

But when Bale got too close to the wolves they began to bark again, not as aggressively, but more warning barks with the odd snarl. The man tried a few times to reach out a hand to show friend but each time the wolves would snap at him and growl, becoming pacified when he took steps back towards Poppy.

“We'd best move on Bale,” Poppy said, reaching up to grab at his sleeve cuff and giving it a tug back towards the stream. She could see a small smattering of emotions flying about his masked face, mostly sorrow she thought.

They were quiet walking deeper into the dark cave, Bale surprisingly so. The opening of daylight was now far behind them, it was becoming more like pitch with every step they took. Poppy tripped over some unseen rocks, cursing under her breath.

“Here,” Bale lit a torch with a simple click of his fingers. The space around them now bathed in a warm orange glow.

“I'm not sure Bale, doesn't this jut scream 'hey goblins, here we are, come and get us'?” Poppy asked her eyes darting from one flickering shadow to the other.

“Probably, but Goblins can see in the dark, and we can't.” He pushed on, Poppy following along, annoyed by his correctness.

They walked along some more finding that the path was climbing upward and becoming quite steep, the stream plunging and splashing down to their left. Across the stream, tucked into the shadows was a passageway. They looked to cross the water but feared of being swept away by the current. Trudging onwards they followed the path round a corner.

There above their heads about twenty feet up in the air was a rickety wooden bridge lashed together with rope. They could see openings leading to and from the bridge hewn out of the rock but no real viable way up to it for them. Bale was intrigued.

“Let's have a look on the other side, there might be steps or grips or-”

Passing under the bridge the two were taken by surprise as a bell rung out. High above their eyes make out a goblin guard pulling up and down a rope, raising the alarm having spotted them.

The guard went to throw a spear down at them but in his excitement he slipped as he threw the spear, flinging himself from the bridge. The goblin reached out for the bell rope to save himself but there was a creak, a crack and the sound of splintering wood.

The spear fell upright into the mud, followed by the goblin impaling himself upon it. Poppy and Bale watched on, their mouths agape at what was happening. The goblin, still alive, reached out, gurgling for help when the bell landed on top of his head, crushing the goblin's neck.

The pair shared a look. No words could form in either of their mouths to describe what had just happened.

There was then the sound of hammering and banging, almighty thuds and blows, like hammers banging onto rocks and timbers being pushed down.

“Ooh, do you think they have a dam?” Bale asked with a grin. Poppy sighed, obviously thinking Bale silly for asking.

Suddenly a deluge of water and rubble came crashing around the corner of the cave, the roar of the thunderous stream was deafening!

Poppy with lightening reflexes ran up the cavern walls, her tough bare feet finding grip on the slippery rock as she skimmed across it, climbing higher while dodging several falling stones and debris.

Bale just stood there, staring at the oncoming flood of water. He was swept up by the wave, arms riased as he bobbed up and down. Poppy could hear a “Weeeeeee!” over the crashing water as her companion was carried back to the mouth of the cave.

Washing up at the mouth Bale was surprisingly unscathed, if not a little soggy. He pulled himself up and pat himself down, wringing out his fine cloak and shaking his crop of hair dry. As he does he sees a few dead goblins float off downstream and another washing up close to his feet, this one slightly more alive.

Bale nudged it, the goblin responded with a water logged groan. Seeing the creature react the masked man donned Steve onto his hand and gestured to the goblin, trying to intimidate it. The goblin spurted some gibberish goblin speak before weakly reaching for it's weapon. Bale kicked the goblin's arm aside and knelt down beside it. Bale looked at Steve and Steve looked back at the goblin, then back to Bale. Then they both slowly and menacingly turned back to the goblin, the glint of Bale's dagger reflecting in the fear filled eyes of the creature.