Chapter 89
We all stare at my father as he murmurs, loud enough for us all to hear.
“Inside… are empty crates and barrels, some smashed apart, others strewn haphazardly across the floor. The wood is decayed and rotting, despite the dry conditions. This appears to have been a storeroom of some kind, but, whatever was stored here, you can’t be certain. Embedded in one of the crates is a handaxe. Helm, to you, it is obviously of fine Dwarven make, but, uncared-for for an unknown length of time, the weapon is dulled and coated in dust.”
Houseworth nods. “I want to take the axe with me.”
Dad makes a notes, and then nods. “Alright, you can do that. The handaxe easily comes free of the wood, and you now have an extra handaxe.”
Houseworth adds his prize to his character sheet, and we leave the room. The other rooms with half-open doors yield no more information, and we push on down the central hallway as it intersects with a huge underground promenade, a road of sorts, ruined carts piled in makeshift barricades, and here… we find the first bodies. Dwarves, the bones and desiccated, mummified flesh clad in tarnished chainmail and plate armour, or leather that’s perished and warped. Each Dwarven hand is clutched tight around weapons and shields, and they all share one thing in common. A hole, bored through the forehead of each skull.
I murmur, “Guys? I REALLY don’t like this. What could do something like this to heavily-armed and armoured warriors?”
Dad keeps narrating, how we find several traps that have already been triggered. One appears to be a huge pile of blank pure silver coins with no engraving, worthless as currency, but with a gnarled, withered hand sticking out of the heap. Between myself, Jeffrey, and Houseworth’s efforts, we manage to excavate the body. Dad smiles. “The corpse before you… isn’t a Dwarf. It’s taller, almost gangly, with a strangely-shaped skull that looks like some of the features have rotted away.”
Dana frowns. “Could I make some kinda check to see if I know what it is?”
Dad purses his lips, before snapping his fingers. “Nature! Give me a Nature check, please, and beat… a 15.”
Dana rolls, clicking her tongue several times, before announcing, “21 including modifiers!”
Dad gets up and moves around to whisper in Dana’s ear for a minute, before returning to his seat. She looks a little confused.
“Guys, have any of you heard of an Illithid?”
Dad adds, “if anyone wants to make an Arcana check to see if you know what an Illithid is, let me know now!”
I nod, and so does mum. She rolls, and announces, “12 in total.”
I scoop up a dice and roll, holding my breath. “…. Natural 20, total of 24!”
Dad gets up and moves around the table to whisper in my ear for a minute, his fake beard tickling my cheek, and then takes his seat. I clear my throat.
“Illithids, more often called ‘Mind Flayers’, are squid-faced psychic wizards. They come from the deep void of space and suck your brains out, or implant tadpoles into you that control you until you turn into a Mind Flayer as well. I guess they attacked the Dwarves here…”
Everyone goes silent. The realization that we might be the only living beings in a city of the dead is… unnerving. I clear my throat. “W-well… shall we keep pushing forward? These bodies are ancient, so I think we’re safe for now. But we should still be very careful.”
Houseworth nods, the light shimmering from his holoreal body as he fidgets with a pencil. “Aye. We cannae take the chance that there’s something here that shouldnae be.”
He announces, “As a Dwarf, I should take the lead. I have experience in this type of… terrain.”
I nod. “That’s fair. But you shouldn’t just… forget that you’re one of us. We’re more than happy to help.”
Houseworth nods, then begins rattling off a short list of steps he wants to take. Dad nods and scribbles something on a sheet of paper, before calling for a couple of rolls. Slowly, we make progress, finding more Dwarven corpses, all with the same hole bored through the skull. There are a fair number of Mind Flayer corpses, too. They’ve been caught in various traps, like spikes, a couple got sandwiched between blocks of stone that appear to have slammed out the sides of a passageway and squashed them. Some traps were… less than effective, though, like the one that sprayed holy water with garlic added, or the one that threw sticky tar. Unfortunately, the tar has dried out so it looks more like loose flakes of soot or ash..
I make notes of how some of the Mind Flayers are slightly shorter. Almost as if they used to be Dwarvish originally. I decide not to mention it right now. No need to risk our Fighter going off the rails and undertake a roaring rampage of revenge.
Deeper and deeper into the mountain passages, our party comes upon a huge set of double doors, inlaid with precious metals, and inscribed in runes which Helm informs us are a series of powerful protection wards, meant to keep out intruders. However, they’re for demons. Some of them are anti-magic. I can feel my heart sinking. “Guys? The Dwarves here have no idea what they were fighting. Mind Flayers aren’t demons or mages. They’re psionic Aberrations. These wards would barely have helped…”
Houseworth sighs. “I suspected as much… we Dwarves don’t really understand magic the way Elves or Humans do… my people’s isolationist ways have caused us more grief than we like to admit. As a surface-wanderer, I too stand out as strange amongst my kin. There are things we cannae make or grow, though, so my presence is necessarily tolerated. It looks as though my people’s attitudes to alliances with outsiders have caught up with us. Only Dwarves fought and died here, trying to destroy these creatures…”
Jeffrey chews on his lower lip. “Well… shall we open the door? But be careful, I think this is going to be nasty.”
With a look at each other, Helm reaches out and opens the door, carefully dispelling the rune wards, softly speaking in Dwarvish as dad narrates the glowing runes fading and going dark.
“Slowly, the doors open, soundlessly, allowing entrance to a great hall, bodies scattered around the outskirts of the chamber. A massive golden throne embedded with gems stands at the far end of the great hall, with a lone figure standing in front of it, leisurely tossing scrolls of long-lost Dwarvish knowledge aside like so much trash. It’s tall and gangly, wearing a grubby longcoat in a shade of dull purple. It’s bald, and, when it turns to face you, black, pupil-less eyes glittering, it has a face resembling a cephalopod.”
Dad brings out a map, and then… pulls out the box he’d been cackling over for a couple weeks, placing a beautifully-painted model on the map, turning it to face us. He winks at me.
I swear under my breath. “That’s one of them! A Mind Flayer!”
Dad’s voice goes raspy. He spits something in an inhuman language, then speaks in English again. “The Mind Flayer speaks in some horrible, guttural tone, an aura of intense menace surrounding it. Does anyone speak Undercommon?”
Dana grins. “I do! Spill the tea, boss!”
Dad grins. “Faeln, you understand exactly what the creature says. The rest of you, you can hear a voice in your minds, saying, “Aaaah, fresh minds to break… it has been so long since I had any test subjects to refine my skills on. Now, come to me, Faeln…”. It crooks a finger at you, and, Faeln, you feel a presence in your brain, compelling you to step forward and bow your head to the Mind Flayer. Make me a Wisdom Saving throw, beat a 15!”
Dana grins and rolls “14, but I still beat it, thanks to Iron Mind allowing me to add my Proficiency Bonus to it, giving me a total of 17!”
Dad grins behind his fake beard. “Faeln, you can feel the Mind Flayer’s mental claws scratching at your psyche, but your mind has been honed through years of hunting your favoured enemies and you shrug off the psychic assault. The creature’s presence draws back, and you can hear an annoyed hissing. Now… ROLL FOR INITIATIVE!”
We all grab dice and the sound of rattling fills the air for a few seconds, before calling our results. “25!” “3!” “18!” “12!” “18!”
Dad grins. “Alright, that’s Faeln up first! What do?”
I smile at my girlfriend as she sips from her glass of synthetic beer. “Alright, I’m going to move up and get into melee range, cast Hunter’s Mark as a Bonus Action, and start slashing away!”
Dad nods. “Go for it!”
Dana marks off a spell-slot, and then rolls three dice, one after another.
“First attack, 19 to hit, second attack is 8 to hit.”
Dad nods. “First one hits, roll damage.”
“Five slashing damage, plus 6 from Hunter’s Mark!”
Dad makes notes, then claps. “Naa’ril, you’re up! What’s your plan?”
I bite my lip, then nod. “I cast Guiding Bolt! That’s a... 22 to hit!”
“That hits, roll damage!”
“13 radiant damage!” I smile, and Dad marks. “Okay, awesome. Next, Helm!”
Houseworth grins. “I move up as far as I can, and bring my Berserker Axe down twice! That’s an 18 and a 20 to hit!”
Dad grins. “Both hit! Roll damage!”
Houseworth rolls his dice, and totals up the damage. “23 damage!”
Dad makes notes. “Okay, Ironhand! You’re on deck! Go!”
Jeffrey grins, clapping his hands. “Okay, time to fistinate this squidface!”
We all blink at him in confusion, as he rolls. “Nat20! That’s my first attack. I’m burning a Ki point for Flurry of Blows, so that’s… a 20 and a 14! And, I activate Ki-Fuelled Attack, so I can make an additional Unarmed Strike as a bonus action! That’s… another 20!”
Dad sighs. “Three of those hit, so roll damage…”
Jeffrey rolls and totals his damage. “…. 23 damage!”
Dad grins. “As the blows land and the Mind Flayer reels, the air around it begins to shimmer and ripple, before a wave of energy explodes out from it. Everyone make an Intelligence save!”
We all panic, grabbing dice and rolling.
Jeffrey gets 8, my mum scores 12, Dana scores 4, I get 19, and Houseworth lands a 18.
Dad grins. “Ky and Houseworth, you are NOT stunned. The rest of you are. And all of you take… 19 damage as the Mind Blast shakes your brains with crushing psychic forces! And, as you all reel, two more Mind Flayers appear, appearing from out of nowhere.”
He puts two more identical models on the map.
Houseworth grins. “Uh, Mr. Porter? I need to make a Wisdom save…”
Everyone looks at him. I ask, “Uh…. Why?”
He just smirks. Dad nods. “Okay, go for it!”
Houseworth rolls. “10!”
Dad grins. “Helm, as you shake your head from the psychic strike on your mind, the overwhelming urge to kill floods your mind. Houseworth, you have now gone berserk!”
We all stare. Dad grins. “Sylvia, will you please make another Intelligence save to try and break free of the stun?”
Blinking, mum grabs a dice and rolls. “21!”
“Okay, as Nesta’s mind clears, she sees the two new Mind Flayers and the Dwarf foaming at the mouth. What do?”
Mum growls. “I want to fire my Eldritch Blast! First shot goes at the mind flayer we’ve been attacking!”
Dad waits for her to roll to hit. Mum snaps her fingers. “20! And the damage… 9!”
Dad grins. “As the Mind Flayer tries to back off, Nesta’s lancing beam of energy burns a hole clean through its chest and it drops in a sizzling heap.”
We cheer, and then mum rolls her second beam. “8 damage to… the left one!”
Dad marks it off, then grins. “Okay, Kylie, you’re up. What’s on the menu?”
I grin. “Okay, I’m going to cast Guiding Bolt again on the one my mum just injured! And that’s a hit, 23!”
Dad nods, smiling. “And the damage?”
I roll. “14!”
Dad marks the damage off and grins. “Helm, you’re up. Now…. Who’s closest to you?”
I look over the map, then slowly, I hold my hand up. “That would be me…”
Dad hisses. “Helm, as you snarl and foam flies from your lips, you sense prey to your left. A Tiefling in chainmail, a warhammer in her hand. The urge to kill driving you on, I need you to make all your attacks… against Kylie's character!”