#rumpadump

[lumendelmari]

Chapter Forty-One

The Long Road Ahead

1485 DR / Day 42

Ghohlbrorn’s Lair, Gracklstugh

A strange calm washed over the companions as they returned to the tavern that had hosted them for the past tenday. The sound of their booted feet was muffled by the rush of conversation and the clinking of tankards. Lizva was behind the bar, shouting orders to the kitchen staff, while young Vanum scurried between tables, balancing trays of food and drink with the frantic energy only youth could sustain. The air was thick with the aroma of sizzling meats and the tang of duergar ale. Boisterous chatter filled the room, the patrons seeming to take solace in a small oasis of normalcy.

As the group settled into their usual corner, Prince Derendil gave a gracious bow, one clawed hand on his chest. “Allow me to secure the libations for the evening,” he offered.

While the others heartily voiced their orders, Nine declined.

“I don’t drink,” the ranger said, leaning back in her chair and watching the room with her usual wariness.

Derendil raised an eyebrow but nodded.

“Very well, I shall return shortly,” he replied.

Zelyra caught Fraeya’s slight smirk and shook her head, hiding her grin. Derendil’s attempts to retain his elven etiquette in a quaggoth’s body never failed to endear—and amuse—them all.

As the prince lumbered off to put in their order, Fargas kicked back in his chair and stretched his short legs out.  “So,” the halfling began, rubbing his hands together, “Now that we’re not busy dealing with dragons and duergar politics and nobody is trying to kill us—yet. What’s next for you lot? Once you stop running from that lovely drow priestess and her spider squad, of course.”

“Pass,” Nine said.

“Oh, come on!” Fargas winked. “There must be something rattling around in that thick skull of yours. Unless you just like tagging along with a bunch of misfits for the company.”

Nine rolled her eyes while the rest of the table fell quiet, considering the original question. Fargas’s casual grin belied a deeper curiosity; his hazel eyes swept over the group, each of whom he knew harbored many secrets. . . . To read more: https://archiveofourown.org/works/35100307/chapters/156331270#workskin

[theterry]

A little reference sheet for my little fungi.

It's my 2nd run of the DnD 5e Out of the Abyss campaign, so instead of creating a normal character I "replaced" the npc Stool with my own take on a naïve, people-loving Myconid... Loaf (He/They). 💜

Loaf never quite fit in with their circle, often daydreaming they could be somewhere else, maybe even someone else.

They had a small secret burrow at Neverlight Grove where they kept trinkets from the surface (think Ariel's throve in The Little Mermaid). Rumpadump, another Myconid Loaf thought was his friend, found out about it and ran to tattle to their Sovereign who in turn collapsed it shut. Feeling isolated and upset, Loaf packed their things and left to find a way to the surface.

...From there he was captured by the Drow, which lead to meeting a queer bunch of imprisoned surface dwellers. Through bonding over fights, perils and heroics they became Loaf's new "circle".

[cloaksandcapes]

Idk who Stool and Rumpadump are, but if they get one of these lil' fellas please let us know how it goes! :)

Look at this precious little fella! They're just a lil' guy who wants to love you and protect you. So, whenever someone offers you a goodberry, make sure you check 'em before you eat 'em. And whatever you do, do NOT plant one of these. Just give 'em a good home on your shoulder.

Goodberry Borne

Wondrous Item, uncommon

“At first glance, this magical item looks like an acorn, but is actually a tiny magical creature. It’s a tiny fey that looks like a goodberry, but wears an acorn shell as a cap in hopes no one will want to eat it.”

As a bonus action, you can command this tiny magical creature to give you a hug restoring 1 hit point. A target must be conscious to benefit from this effect.

This magical creature is so small that it’s nearly impossible to hit. Any attacks against it are done at disadvantage, and you can use a reaction to take the damage yourself. It uses your AC, doesn’t suffer damage from area of effect attacks, but otherwise has 1 hit point.

Join us on Twitch every Mon\Wed\Fri to create new Homebrews and check out our Patreon for 527+ magic items, tokens, maps, and more.

[poop4u]

Dog shares tasty snack with guinea pigs

#poop4u #dogs

Wilbur Allen the Shar Pei/Basset shares some veggies with his friends, Market Price and Rumpadump. Cuteness overload!brbr@wilbur_allen_bashar Source & embed code: https://rumble.com/v7pk9f-dog-shares-tasty-snack-with-guinea-pigs.html. For licensing, please email licensing@rumble.com.

From: Rumble Viral

Poop4U via www.Poop4U.com Trippy.Tube, Poop4U

[theunderdark]

Chapter 6: The Whorlstone Tunnels

In earnest search of a dragon’s egg and a magical obelisk, our heroes venture into a forbidding labyrinth of interconnected tunnels and caves, known locally as The Whorlstone Tunnels.

Yet deeper underground than even the trench of Laduguer’s Furrow, their path takes them yet further from the surface. Home feels a long way from here. What curious and unfamiliar sights await them...?

The mute air

The clanging sounds of Gracklstugh’s forges, of metal on metal, and of the bustling markets faded away. Glowing mushrooms and plants lined the damp walls, casting spiral patterns on the dripping ceilings.

A choice of three paths lay ahead.

Torinn bravely stepped forward to explore the left-hand path, which led to a small empty cavern. A dead-end, but for a narrow crack in the wall, through which Torinn briefly glimpsed a small creature scrambling through. The team spotted two unusual mushrooms, which were later worked out to be Bigwig, a purple cup, granting some kind of increase in size, and a small stubby blue mushroom with white dots called Pygmywort, which does the opposite. They kept some for later, but dared not try it yet.

Akta convinced a hesitant Stool to explore the small crack in the wall, reporting back that there is an underground stream. A pool of this dark water blocked the middle of the second path.

Magical, luminescent fungus covered the cavern walls

A Derro’s Lair

So Jimjar led the team down the right-hand path. Boldly stepping into a large cavern, JimJar was met by the horrible stench of rotting meat. The floor was carpeted with humanoid remains - including fellow deep gnomes - arranged in a spiral pattern around the cave’s centre. A hunched figure turned to greet the team, wiping his hands on his vest and smiling viciously. “Oh, I didn’t expect you so soon!  But yes.. yes.. I sense that you are ready to receive the truth into your hearts!”

Unimpressed with the derro’s religious fervour, JimJar’s unflinching glare bought the team time to hold him down, but not before he was able to raise six undead skeletons to his aid from a nearby shrine. But the team dispatched them swiftly: Sariel unleashing a cloud of magical daggers, and Bree whipping them down like some skeleton bowling strike.

Meanwhile, Miri spoke to one of the dead gnomes, learning a little about The Gray Ghosts, a derro cult holed up in the North-East of the tunnels, who might have stolen the dragon egg. And of a large shrine in the East, where an obelisk might lie.

While they decided what to do, the ghost of a deep gnome popped out of the ground, affably introduced himself as Pelek, and asked the group to find his animated severed hand, lost in the tunnels. The group agreed to lay it to rest in Blingdenstone if they could.

By vote, the group decided to burn the skeletons, the unconscious derro cultist, and everything else in the room. While undead flames licked the walls, the adventurers took a short rest and told tales of their schooling and past.

Parade of Fools

The tunnel opened up into a natural cave, and Bree discovered several fungal creatures dancing to some silent tune. Stool excitedly alerted them that they were fellow myconids - five sprouts like him, plus three adults. Two larger ape-like plants were hunched nearby, covered in mushroom growths and yellow mold.

One of the sprouts was quivering in a corner. It was Sprout’s friend, Rumpadump! Worried that some “strange spores” had perhaps affected the rest of the myconids back home in Neverlight Grove, Rumpadump’s distress was felt telepathically by the whole team. And Stool communicated to Akta that Rumpadump knows the way home.

When Bree asked the myconids what was going on, their leader Voosbur explained that they were brought here by “the Lady”, a powerful being that loves and guides all myconids. When Bree graciously declined his offer to share “the Lady’s gift”, Voosbur took no offence and resumed his twirling dance.

Sariel and Adrik identified a growth on Voosbur’s shoulder, releasing a cloud of demon-tainted spores that should be avoided. Worryingly, the whole thing pointed to the influence of Zuggtmoy, the demon queen of plants and fungus, and, like Demogorgon, another monster who has somehow found her way to the material plane.

Stool’s introverted myconid friend, Rumpadump

A swarm of centipedes

The team bade a melancholy farewell to the lost myconids, as they slowly became invisible. They followed the tunnel on north east until they reached a T junction. A dense thicket of fungi blocked the juncture, although the forest was only 4 or 5 feet high - short enough to see over.

Adrik and Miri stepped forward, but as they assessed a way forward, a hissing sound started to rise, like a hundred tiny voices whispering in unknown tongues. They foraged some food and water from barrelstalks and ripplebark, large mushrooms that they were familiar with from their escape from Velkynvelve.

Everyone crunched their way forward, each using their own skills to forge a path ahead. Miri used her scythe to cut out a path, revealing a nest of centipedes that poured onto the ground. Bree took a moment to go into an abyssal trance, learning that more and more centipedes would come, and Adrik heard them chanting for the Bigwig mushroom, which Sariel held. Taking no chances, she teleported out of the thicket instantly.

Akta could stand it no longer, acrobatically leapfrogging over Miri to safety. Eventually the rest of the crew were able to make their way out, though Miri took several uncomfortably poisonous nips on the way out.

The Raucous Mesa

A long tunnel curved around on itself in a spiral. Eldeth, faithfully fulfilling herrole as the group’s trusty red-headed dwarven scout, explored a tunnel running further north-east, reporting on a network of smaller tunnels. 

Entering a wide chamber, the largest so far encountered, the group spotted glowing mushrooms and slimes around the floors and walls. A huge mesa - a flat-topped rock with steep cliffs on all sides - stands in the middle of the cavern. The ceiling is too dark and high to see. 

Hearing murmurs and whispers from the top of the mesa, the team clambered up a ramshackle staircase carved out of the rock in a spiral. From the top, the rhythmic clanking and loud conversations of Gracklstugh can be heard. Pausing to concentrate, almost to a trance, is when secrets are revealed...

[thenighteternal]

ℜ𝔲𝔪𝔭𝔢𝔩𝔰𝔱𝔦𝔩𝔱𝔰𝔨𝔦𝔫 (1995)

[lumendelmari]

Chapter Thirty-Nine

The Dreamwalker

1485 DR / Day 41

Laduguer’s Furrow, Gracklstugh 

The sad pattern continued as Zelyra, Kazimir, and Prince Derendil made their way westward to Cairngorm Caverns. Destruction, death, silence, fear… The once bustling city of Gracklstugh was rank with it. What should have been a ten-minute walk quickly tripled due to the damage the red dragon, Themberchaud, had wrought.

And yet, there was one bright spot amidst the fallout—

Gracklstugh was already starting to rebuild.

The petty war that had broken out between clans was forgotten. Duergar, who had been at each other’s throats, needlessly spilling blood mere hours before, now rallied together and stoically worked side by side to put out fires, clear the streets, and search for trapped victims. The trio did what they could to help along the way, which slowed them even further.

As they navigated the wreckage of the southern housing district, Zelyra’s sharp eyes fell upon a figure lying near a collapsed building. The druid gasped and rushed forward. Derendil and Kazimir hurried after her. The body that Zelyra had found was none other than Grinta Ironhead.

Not only had Grinta been one of the co-conspirators of Blackskull’s coup—she was Laird Thangus Ironhead’s only daughter. [1] The once proud and fierce weaponsmith now looked so small and fragile, her armor cracked and scorched. Further search revealed Grinta’s honor guard trapped among debris. The elderly priest who presided over their Heroes’ Feast was also there. He lay flat on his back, his dark eyes trained upwards, lifeless and unseeing.

They had never asked the priest’s name, let alone thanked him for the powerful adjuration magic that had undoubtedly saved their lives in the throne room…

And now they never could.

“How did it come to this?” Kazimir muttered.

“Pride was allowed to override reason,” Prince Derendil replied, his head downturned. “No side would have come out of the coup without substantial loss. But they knew that, I think. Blackskull, Amber, Grinta, and the other lairds who sided with them… Themberchaud knew it, too. That’s why he chose to attack when he did. It was his best and only chance. This was a battle that neither side could have won.”

“They didn’t deserve this,” Zelyra said as she dropped to her knees beside the priest and reached out with trembling fingers to close his unseeing eyes in respect. “None of them did,” the druid muttered. She then brought her hands to her mouth in a gasp. “Poor Blackskull! She must—”

Zelyra left the conclusion of ‘guilt’ unsaid.

But both of her companions knew what she meant.

“Yeah,” Kazimir breathed.

The wizard reached into the pocket of his robes for the small, polished stone that connected him to Captain Errde Blackskull. He hesitated, his thumb rubbing its smooth surface before relaying the news and location of the bodies. Blackskull’s response was swift and clipped, but the tiefling could tell it significantly weighed on her.

“I will send a recovery team immediately.”

There was a slight pause, and then—

“Thank you for letting me know, Kazimir,” the duergar said softly. “Stay safe. We’ve lost too many already.”

Not for the first time, the tiefling wizard warred with himself internally. Surely, they could have done something more. Or perhaps they should have done the opposite and turned their backs on Blackskull, washing their hands of the duergar city altogether when they had the chance. But a nagging voice in Kazimir’s subconscious that sounded suspiciously like Fraeya argued that Gracklstugh would have been worse off had they done that. If they had not exposed Shal, if they had not broken the succubus’s hold and returned Deepking Horgar to his right mind—

Themberchaud’s attack would have devastated the City of Blades.

And that effect would not have been limited to Gracklstugh. Had the duergar city fallen to the dragon, it would have had untold consequences on the entire trade infrastructure of the Underdark.

“Any news of Amber Thrazgad’s whereabouts?” the wizard finally asked.

“None,” the captain replied curtly.

The link between the sending stones fell silent.

Kazimir sighed. It was strange, given that their interaction with the head of Clan Thrazgad had been limited to just a few short meetings, but the tiefling felt as though a rock had settled in the pit of his stomach. Had the fiery armorsmith met the same fate as Grinta Ironhead?

The wizard took another deep breath and then released it. Around them, the duergar continued their grim work, cleaning the streets and tending to the wounded. There was resilience to them, some stubborn determination to keep going despite all odds. Kazimir had come to respect it during their time in the city. They might not see eye to eye on specific policies—the slave trade, for one—but these were a people who had built their lives in the harshest of environments, who had carved out a place for themselves in the unforgiving Underdark. They would survive this, somehow.

. . . Read more: https://archiveofourown.org/works/35100307/chapters/152830810

[lumendelmari]

Chapter Thirty-Six

The Hold of the Deepking  

1485 DR / Day 41 

The Blade Bazaar, Gracklstugh

A cloud of unease and doubt hung over the companions’ heads as they slipped through the streets of Gracklstugh in the late afternoon. After their separate shopping excursions that morning, they spent the rest of their time gathered in Fraeya and Sarith’s chambers, essentially twiddling their thumbs while awaiting a call to arms—but no longer. The time had come. Captain Blackskull’s summons came via sending stone not ten minutes prior. The party was to immediately make their way to Clan Ironhead’s stronghold on the far western side of the Darklake District, due south of The Shattered Spire. And so, the companions had donned their gear, double-checked their supplies, and spent a few final moments with their myconid companions. Rumpadump and Stool would remain behind in their lodgings at Ghohlbrorn’s Lair. As the establishment was tucked away in caverns beneath the surface level of the city, it was the safest place for them. Because no matter how fiercely Stool argued for it, war was no place for a sprout.

“Do not leave this room unless one of us, Vanum or Lizva, calls for you. Do you understand?” Kazimir had told the sprouts.

Rumpadump nodded in agreement, but Stool had turned away like a stubborn child. That action still bothered Kazimir, though he knew Rumpadump and Stool were far safer being left behind. The party had no idea what they would be walking into…

. . .

Read more: https://archiveofourown.org/works/35100307/chapters/120975274

or

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13962836/36/The-Grey-Warriors

[lumendelmari]

Chapter Two

Signs of Madness

1485 D.R. / Day 45 

The Northdark

The second day of travel began with the same muted dread that the companions had long grown used to. Sarith and Fraeya continued to scout ahead while Kazimir and Fargas followed at a measured pace. The tiefling wizard’s silver eyes eagerly traced the lines and symbols etched upon the aged map of the Northdark while Fargas walked with an almost casual swagger, idly spinning a spare dagger in hand. Behind them, Stool and Rumpadump toddled alongside Prince Derendil, the quaggoth’s massive strides forcing the sprouts to scramble to keep pace. Zelyra brought up the rear with Nine this time, keeping watch of their smallest companions.

Around mid-day, the air grew noticeably cooler, carrying with it the faint scent of minerals and something earthy and decayed. The rocky ground beneath their feet gave way to jagged crystalline formations that jutted from the cavern floor and walls like jagged teeth, shimmering with an unsettling purple light.

“We should be nearing an old fortress soon,” Kazimir announced, his voice echoing softly through the cavern. He tapped a point on the map with his finger.

“Fortress?” Fargas echoed. “You think anyone still lives there?”

“If they do,” Fraeya chimed in from the front of the group, “I doubt they’ll be friendly.”

“Anything that survives out here is likely to be hostile—or desperate,” Sarith agreed.

A chill ran through the group as they moved deeper into the cavern. The faerzress veins around them bathed the space in an eerie purple glow. Kazimir knelt beside one of the crystalline structures, brushing his fingers over its smooth, cold surface. He studied it with the curiosity of a scholar.

“Fascinating. Are these naturally formed, or something more?” the wizard murmured, more to himself than anyone else.

Nine’s dour voice came from the rear. “My guess is something more,” she said. “‘More’ usually means trouble.”

Up ahead, Fraeya paused, her keen eyes catching on the dark shape that loomed just beyond the subsequent rise. The ruins of a fortress—or perhaps what had once been one—rose from the cavern floor, its stone walls cracked and crumbling, partially swallowed by faerzress. Kazimir had been right.

“We’re not alone,” Sarith suddenly murmured beside her.

Fraeya followed his gaze, her eyes narrowing. Standing amidst the ruins was a massive figure, its silhouette outlined by the pulsing purple light. Nearly seven and a half feet tall, with broad shoulders and a stout frame, the creature moved with a precision that belied its size. It was inspecting the crystalline substance on the stone walls, its movements methodical and deliberate.

“Orc-ish,” Sarith whispered. “Probably an orog.”

The two drow elves exchanged a glance, silently agreeing to proceed with caution.

Fraeya raised her hand, signaling for the others to hang back, and began to move forward, Sarith close at her side. As they approached, the figure continued its inspection, seemingly oblivious to their presence.

When they were within earshot of the stranger, Fraeya called out to them in Undercommon, her voice carrying a mixture of confidence and wariness.

“You there, stranger! State your purpose!”

The figure paused, straightening slowly. As it turned, the drow saw it was indeed an orog, but there was an air of intelligence in its gaze, a depth not often found among such creatures. Its eyes, bright and curious, met Fraeya’s without an ounce of fear or hostility.

“Greetings!” the creature replied. “I am Blurg, a researcher and member of the Society of Brilliance.” He politely inclined his head. “I did not expect company here.”

Fraeya’s eyes flicked to Sarith, then back to Blurg. “The Society of Brilliance,” she repeated, recognition dawning. “We’ve met one of your fellows before. A kuo-toa.”

Blurg’s expression brightened. “Ah, Sloopidoop! A fine mind and a loyal friend.”

Fraeya relaxed, if only slightly, and called the rest of the party forward. . TO READ MORE: https://archiveofourown.org/works/61549729/chapters/159030967#workskin

[lumendelmari]

The Grey Warriors have finally left the duergar occupied city of Gracklstugh and set course for Neverlight Grove, but every which way the group turns, they find further turmoil in the Underdark. The horror and destruction that began in the kuo-toa village of Sloobludop is rapidly spreading far, far beyond it.

Stonespeaker Hgraam’s grim warning remains fixed in their heads:

“The rock itself cries with pain and horror, and a madness creeps from the blackest depths. Pay heed to the signs around you. A cave with two faces. Rock devoured, and the land overgrown. The pebble believes itself flesh. The earth rejects its wards, and the tunnels shake with fury. By these portents, you shall know of evil’s presence and of evil’s face. This is what the stones tell me.”

More than ever, the lands below need a light in the dark. .

The Grey Warriors

Out of the Abyss: Rage of Demons

Part Two 

A Light In The Dark

. . .

Chapter One

Bad Dreams

1485 D.R. / Day 44 

Gracklstugh, The Underdark

The City of Blades was quieter than usual. Fires had been quenched, bodies laid to rest, and the fractured city began to rebuild under the heavy-handed vigilance of its surviving leaders—the likes of Captain Errde Blackskull, Deepking Horgar Steelshadow V, and Amber Thrazgad. But for all the duergar’s attempts to restore order, shadows lingered, both literal and figurative, in the cavernous streets and tunnels.

High above the city, on a jagged outcropping of stone that jutted from the cavern wall, a hooded figure stood, motionless as a statue. The folds of their cloak rippled faintly in a faint, sulfurous breeze. Their face was obscured, hidden deep within the shadows of their cowl, but the faintest gleam of jewel-like eyes, sharp and calculating, caught the dim glow of the city below. Beside them crouched a nightmarish creature. The hulking, grey-skinned aberration resembled a spiky humanoid toad, a death slaad in its true form. Its eyes were unblinking as they hungrily watched the figures moving far below.

The Grey Warriors, a ragtag band of surface-dwellers and misfits, were leaving the city. From this vantage, the figure watched as they passed through the gates, escorted by duergar Stoneguard. The party’s progress was deliberate but steady, each step carrying them farther from Gracklstugh and deeper into the wilderness of the Underdark.

“They’re moving as you said they would,” the death slaad rasped. “Shall I follow?”

The figure raised a gloved hand—a long, slender hand with unnaturally graceful fingers. It was enough to silence the slaad instantly. “Patience, my pet. They are pawns on the board, and pawns must move at their own pace. Too much interference risks breaking the game.”

“You’ve played it before,” the hunched creature presumed.

“Free will is a most delightful illusion, is it not? It has brought them this far.” The figure’s voice lowered, almost purred. “And it will carry them further. To the Grove, to the Court, to the depths where the others claw and screech like starving beasts…”

The slaad nodded, though its grotesque face betrayed no comprehension of the deeper plan. It did not matter. It was a tool, a loyal piece in a puzzle far greater than itself.

The Grey Warriors were little more than shadows moving toward a distant cavern mouth. The smallest of them—the myconid sprouts, Stool and Rumpadump—scurried close to Prince Derendil’s towering frame. Fraeya and Sarith were at the front, their eyes scanning for dangers that had yet to come. Zelyra’s golden hair gleamed in the faint glow of Kazimir’s staff as the tiefling examined their map. And Nine lingered near the rear, always watching, with Fargas at her side.

They had met before—many times, in fact—though the Grey Warriors had yet to realize it. No, they were still blissfully ignorant to the threads of fate being woven around them, threads that this individual had been silently manipulating since first meeting their echoes. And there were so many delightful meetings yet to come! The figure’s grin widened. There was no doubt, for their story was playing out exactly as written…

His rivals were like stars in a vast, chaotic constellation. Each burned brightly, recklessly consuming all in their path. But stars, even the brightest, could be snuffed out.

“Each step they take, every battle they fight, brings them closer to unraveling this chaotic tapestry,” the figure continued. “They think they fight to restore balance, to stem the tide of madness, but they are blind to the greater design. My design.”

“You would trust them with such a task?” the slaad dared to ask. “They’ve already failed you once. They are weak, fractured, constantly at odds with each other��”

The figure laughed, the sound rich and mocking.

“That is precisely why they will succeed in the end. Their weakness makes them malleable. And so, even their failures may serve me.” They paused, finally turning their head to regard the slaad in full. “These fragile mortals, they hold the knife. Not by their will, of course, but by mine. They will clear the board of every other piece that stands in my way.”

The slaad’s grin widened, its claws flexing in anticipation. “And then?”

“And then,” the figure said, their voice low and filled with dark promise, “only I shall remain. Chaos devours itself, my dear pet. All that is required is the proper catalyst.”

The slaad sneered, but it said no more, its instincts sharp enough to know when to stay silent.

“They don’t know it yet,” the figure murmured. “But the Grey Warriors will be the architects of my victory. When their task is done, when they stand broken and spent at the end of all things, they will see. The Underdark does not give. It only takes.”

The slaad laughed, a wet and guttural sound, as it rose to its full height.

“And will you tell them then, master? Will you let them know they were nothing but pawns?”

The figure’s smile, faint and hidden, could be felt rather than seen. “Perhaps. But it hardly matters. Whether they understand or not, their purpose will be fulfilled.”

Below, the Grey Warriors disappeared into the twisting tunnels of the Northdark.

“Such fragile lights, stumbling through the dark. They’ve survived Gracklstugh, yes… but survival is no triumph. No, not when the game has only just begun.” The hooded figure turned to the slaad with a flick of his hand. “Come. There is much yet to prepare.”

The death slaad followed in silence, its heavy footsteps echoing faintly as the two disappeared into the depths of the Underdark. Above them, the rock walls seemed to shudder faintly as though recoiling from the weight of the plans set into motion. And far ahead, oblivious to the eyes watching them, the Grey Warriors pressed onward into the darkness, unaware of the strings tied to their every step since day one.

. . .

TO READ MORE: https://archiveofourown.org/works/61549729/chapters/157353130

[lumendelmari]

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Speakers of Stone

1485 DR / Day 35

An unknown location outside of Gracklstugh

The companions slowly sat up, recovered from the nauseating feeling of teleportation, and took in their surroundings with bleary eyes. For a moment, no one spoke; such was their shock. It was not until the wizard among them began shaking with silent laughter that the group returned to their senses. Immediately, Kazimir was fixed with five disapproving glares.

“What in the Nine Hells were you thinking?!” Fraeya exploded as she stormed up to the smirking tiefling and jabbed him roughly in the chest with her index finger. “You think this is funny, huh? We just lost the damn egg!”

“I don’t think it’s funny!” Kazimir responded, though his lips were still twisted in a partial smirk.

“Somehow…I don’t think I believe you,” Nine drawled bitterly.

“Did you know the obelisk would react that way when a spell is cast into it?” Zelyra asked the wizard as she favored the right side of her head. Derendil had accidentally elbowed her as they landed. Not that she was complaining! Secretly, the druid was glad that was the extent of her injuries. The quaggoth could have landed on her. That would have been a whole different ordeal.

“How did you know that’s what I did?” Kazimir asked cheekily.

Zelyra tilted her head and narrowed her eyes. “So, that flaming sphere just appeared out of nowhere? I may not understand the arcane like you, but I know enough.”

“It was a joke, Z. Sheesh,” the tiefling muttered. He sobered and said, “I didn’t know what it would do. All I could surmise was that there was some sort of dormant energy within the obelisk that could be activated with magic—any magic. You could have done the same thing to a similar result.”

“And so, in all your wisdom and brilliance, you decided to throw fire at it to test your theory?” Fraeya concluded testily.

Kazimir shrugged nonchalantly.

...

You can continue reading on Ao3 or FF.net...

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13962836/29/The-Grey-Warriors

[lumendelmari]

Chapter Twenty-Six

The Gift

1485 DR / Day 34

The Whorlstone Tunnels, Gracklstugh

The adventurers were all too glad to leave Buppido's gruesome lair behind and continue their exploration of the Whorlstone Tunnels. Fraeya and Fargas resumed their positions as scouts in the front of the group, while Zelyra elected to join Sarith as a rearguard. Normally she would have walked in the middle of the group with Kazimir and Derendil, but she wanted to give the prince his space.

Almost immediately after Derendil had walked away, Zelyra realized her mistake. Her words had come out too soon and at the worst time. The prince was still recovering from the shock of attacking her. Her thoughtlessly bringing up his curse and comparing him to a primal animal had been incredibly insensitive. She reasoned that she would apologize to him later, perhaps when they stopped to rest. But when that might be was anyone's guess. The druid could only suppose that they were not returning to Ghohlbrorn's Lair until they had enough proof to bring back to Blackskull or found the missing dragon egg. Until then, they would likely be sleeping in the tunnels.

As Fargas and Fraeya led the party to the mouth of a third open chamber, the faerzress changed again. This time, the magical energy was neither pale silver nor sickly green. Instead, it was bright gold and spun in hypnotizing patterns, as if in time to some sort of dance or song. The rogues watched the faerzress for a moment before peering around the corner. To their disappointment, the chamber beyond was not empty, and its inhabitants were all acting rather odd.

. . .

Read the rest on Ao3 or FF.net: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13962836/26/The-Grey-Warriors