Kras’kerz 20
With Torendrock in the bag, Duromar found himself alone again on the trip to the mines. It was hard to believe they were most of the way through winter now. This area was right in the middle of what he’d call the subtropics, so it stayed above freezing most winters. Not at all what he was used to.
Stepping into the last unexplored tunnel, the one that almost certainly held the orcs he’d been looking for for so long, he found himself stepping carefully due to the incredible level of filth on the floor. Disease was almost certainly something to be concerned about. Less than ten feet in, he was greeted by arrows that never even came close to him. They came flying at him from arrow slits in the wall in the intersection, with just barely visible shapes behind them. He pulled out his longbow and returned fire, but trying to shoot through the arrow slits from the far side was a fair bit harder. More arrows flew, and he managed to get one in [-12] but [Fumble!] the wrapped leather grip on his longbow tore loose on the next shot, making it harder to shoot. He fired one more anyway, got hit [-6 dam], then an orc stepped out of the left hallway into the intersection. He switched targets, having just enough time to fire [-11] once before the orc reached him, dropping his bow as the orc arrived. With the orc already wounded due to the arrow, a single blow [-19] took him down. Unfortunately, this cleared the hallway for more arrows, and one [-1 dam] hit. Two more orcs came from the right hallway, heading right down the hallway at Duromar. At second look, they were actually not full-blooded orcs, possibly not even half-orcs, looking like simple brutish humans. Maybe quarter-orcs, if that was a thing.
He hit one [-18] without much effect, and then when that human tried to retaliate he cracked the quarterstaff he was using against the wall so hard it sounded like the quarterstaff had been damaged. The second human just missed normally. Duromar hit the first human again [-22], but he still didn’t go down. He tried again, cutting through [-14] the first and into the second. He then struck the second again [-18]. The archers, perhaps too impatient, fired at him again and one arrow struck the human instead, going through his thigh and killing him.
Duromar ran up to the arrow slits and in a move that must have shocked the orcs, [Fumble!] stabbed his blade right into the stonework instead of through the arrow slit. From point-blank range, they missed again, and this time he stabbed the orc [-17] instead, killing it. The final orc, realizing the danger, backed out of reach. Looking to both sides, Duromar saw a door set in the hallway on his right, the probable path to get behind this wall. Running to the door, he yanked it open. The hallway beyond it turned back exactly as he’d thought, and following it, he found the orc grabbing club to attack him with. In his panic, the orc swung too early and smashed the head of the club into the floor, breaking off some of the spikes. Duromar [Fumble!] dropped one sword but hit [-17] with the other. He finished the orc [-20] while it was still looking stupidly at the damaged weapon. [+395 E.P.]
Not much of value, with the rather interesting surprise that the quarterstaff that sounded like it broke actually appeared to be magical.
Checking the left side led to a stable, if one was very generous with the definition. It was disgusting and filthy. More than a dozen ponies, every single with obvious signs of abuse. Wary of a second Noodle incident, he carefully tried to approach one. It cowered away from him without taking a step. Gently, he took hold of the bridle, internally snarled at the orcs who left the poor beasts this way. Patiently, he gathered up leads from every pony, and led them outside, then stripped the headgear off every single one, letting them roam freely. [+410 E.P.]
The headgear he carried back inside, and then viciously cut them to pieces with his swords.
Back in the stable, there was a door locked with a chain and padlock. It yielded easily to his strength, but it was just a tack room, with saddle and saddlebags. He left them alone.
Continuing to the right was a large bare chamber. Filthy like everywhere else, though. One door led to the ambush slits. The next door had a rather distinct odor to it, not quite unpleasant. Opening it, he found a dog kennel that was untidy, but not as bad as the previous rooms. Sitting in the middle of the room was a single orc, brushing the coat of a large wardawg. Fifteen more wardawgs were in cages around the perimeter of the room. The noise in the room also explained why the earlier fight hadn’t been investigated.
The orc, who was probably more of a half-orc, barked out a command that sent the wardawg directly at Duromar. At the same time, the dawg handler ran to a second cage and flipped it open to let another dawg out. Duromar, realizing he really didn’t want to fight sixteen dawgs all at once, ran to attack the handler. The dawg tried to bite him as he pushed past, but it wasn’t good enough. He struck the handler [-22] once, then a second time [-31] with a blow that carried through and struck the dawg as well. He finished that dawg [-20] and hit the one coming out of the cage [-21] as well. While this was happening all the other dawgs were trying to get loose, and one more did, leaving him with still two to face. He took down the second [-14] and then nearly [-21] a third.
With blood in the air, five more dawgs got loose. He cut down the third [-16] and stepped into the pack coming at him, striking one [-15]. One got around to his back, and that one bite home [-19 dam] shockingly hard. No more got loose before he cut down another [-15] but not [-21] the next. He heard another cage break as he tried to finish the four around him. Another bite at his rear [-16 dam] got him even as he struck down [-18] one more [-15]. Yet another cage broke open. Clearly, the orc used shoddy materials. He took down one more [-15], then turned to face the two that had been behind him. It must have been the same one because it managed to sneak in a bite [-6 dam] even when his back wasn’t turned. Focusing, he took it out in a single blow [-31], leaving just three more. Things were starting to go his way, as [-21] he got [-17] one more down, leaving just two. He was soon left with [-14] just [-14] one. And then [-15] there were-
Two more escaped. A quick count gave only four still in cages. Duromar was feeling the slightest bit of combat fatigue pushing on him now, as well. He kept going, hoping to finish it [-17] before [-20] anymore could escape. He struck one more down [-22] and looked around. Four still in cages, none loose. He waited. Still fighting to get loose, half a minute later one finally did. Even as it ran at Duromar, another broke free. The short rest was enough to catch his breath though and push back the fatigue. He made short work [-26] of one [-16], ready for the next before it reached him. It was just as easy [-16] to [-25] take out. Just two left. Having steadily attacked the makeshift cages for nearly two minutes now, he assumed the last two would get free eventually. One promptly did. It was no harder [-20] than [-20] the last two. A deep breath and the last door broke before he could consider opening it himself. The fatigue must have affected his swing [Fumble!] as he felt a pull of pain in his shoulder. Good thing for ambidexterity as the second blade [-17] hit. He finished it with just his left [-18], glad it was finally over. [+2137 E.P.]
Duromar gently rotated his shoulder, feeling the twinge. Considering his healing, he decided to give it an hour before continuing. Sitting around inside the orc complex sounded rather stupid though, so he went outside, and found a quiet spot to watch the mines as a whole.
Sitting there, it occurred to him that he’d never just sat and watched to see what the activity was like there. The main reason the thought occurred was because sitting and watching let him notice that the overgrown thicket patch, located just downslope of the orc entrance, had kobolds coming in and out at odd intervals. So, that explained where to find them, at least.
An hour later, the twinge seemed to be gone. His hit point meter [HP: 108/155] went up by one also, so he decided to head back in.
Duromar had his damaged bow in hand for the entrance, since the missing guard could have been discovered already. Curiously, it seemingly hadn’t been. He double-checked down the access hallway, but the alcove was unoccupied. His intrusion was somewhat unknown, then.
The doors next to the dog kennel sounded like a party was going on inside. He opened the doors and found a squad of orcs sitting in a mess hall, getting drunker. The stench of wasted food on the food didn’t bear thinking about. There was a single half-orc who seemed to be serving drinks to them.
Duromar ran in, cut one down [-18] and [Crit! Severity 24, Upper Outer Left Arm, -34, +1 honor] cut off the arm of another, killing him, then backed off to get his back against a wall. The remaining seven orcs grabbed for clubs to attack. He cut the first [-15] to reach him, dodged the clubs, and cut [-22] down both injured orcs. Comedically, one orc stepped on the ankle of another, so only three of the five even managed to attack him. He ignored those two, hoping they would attack each other in anger, and struck at [-19] two different targets [-22] to see if that would add to the confusion. It didn’t, so to amuse himself, he struck at [-20] two more [-19], leaving four with gaping wounds. Disappointingly, when he tried to cut down all four at once [-16], he only managed to take down three and left a scratch on the armor of the fourth. Annoyed, he cut down the fourth [-28] with a mighty blow that very nearly finished the last as well. But before he could do so, the final orc fell face down in front of him, a dagger buried in his back. Behind him was the slender half-orc, lowering his hand from having thrown the dagger. [+294 E.P.]
Duromar grunted and lowered his swords without putting them away. “Didn’t need the help, but thanks.”
He held his hands up. “Yeah, I know. I’m not on their side. I can guide you around, if you want.”
“Nothing personal, but I don’t trust you that much. Tell me this, is another squad going to show up from the sounds of fighting?”
“Uh, no, only if it goes on too long.”
“Good enough. If they were forcing you to work, you should get going now while you can. Take the dagger back, you don’t want to be completely unarmed.”
He hesitantly came over to the last orc, and pulled out the dagger, then put it back in the scrap of leather he used as a sheath. Backing away, he headed for the second door out towards the entrance.
“Hey kid, what’s your name?”
“Chaka.”
“Chaka, then. Maybe we’ll meet again. I’m Duromar.”
With the half-orc gone, Duromar harvested ears quickly.
He followed the hallway leading further in, finding a barracks with many sleeping orcs- no, these were entirely half or quarter orcs. About half lay in uncomfortable looking cots, with weapons and armor laying nearby, and the other half lay in even more uncomfortable furs on the floor, with no weapons nearby. Ignoring the floor pallets, Duromar went down the line of cots, trying to take out as many as he could before they awoke. In seconds, every cot held a dead orkin. The servants started to come awake as he finished, none daring to get up, but a few furtive daggers were grabbed. [+294 E.P.]
“I suppose none of you are here by choice, like Chaka?”
There were many glances at each other and the dead orkin fighters. “Are you letting us go?”
“Sure. Get going, don’t come back.”
He stepped back into the hallway, to make sure they went out, and not further in to warn someone. They filed out quickly, running as soon as they had made it past him.
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The next door was locked, but a good hard pull shattered the lock and let him open it. Inside was foul. It looked like a pantry gone utterly rancid. He closed the door immediately. At the next intersection, he could see an area that might possibly be a kitchen. There was a single half-orc working there, who paused and cowered when Duromar appeared in the doorway. At the far corner of the kitchen was a barred gate leading somewhere else.
“Right. If I said I was here to slaughter every orc, what would you say about that?”
The cook hesitantly pointed towards the intersection and gestured to the left. “The chief is that way?”
“Fair enough. What’s behind the gate?”
Hands shaking, the cook dug out a key from his pocket. “I’m not sure what it is, but it killed the last cook.” Unwilling to step closer, he laid the key down instead.
“Good info. Ok, get outta here. I’ve got a chief to find.”
The cook sidled past Duromar, then ran without looking back once. He stepped in and picked up the key, putting it away in a pocket.
There was a solid door in the direction the cook had pointed, and a long hallway going the other direction, past the limit of his vision. The door opened easily and led into the nicest room in the complex, which wasn’t saying much. But it had a desk, a ledger book, and an oil lamp. There was even a painting on the wall. Duromar was no art critic, but that was a really ugly painting.
There was an orc sitting at the desk, who looked up when Duromar entered.
“Who you?”
“Duromar. Here to see the chief.” He figured it was at least worth a try.
“Chief say nothing ‘bout half-ogre.”
“Yeah, well, I’m a secret.”
The orc lazily shrugged. “Chief secrets. You go in. Put swords away. Knock on door, password ‘bobo’.”
“Thanks.” Duromar slid both swords home and stepped around the orc who went back to sketching in the ledger book. An artist he wasn’t.
The short hallway had one door on the left, and at the far end, some kind of face carved into the wall, with baskets of decaying food around it. Clearly a shrine of some sort. He ignored that for now and knocked at the door.
He heard a voice yelling through the door. “What password?”
Yelling back, he said, “Bobo!”
There was a conversation on the other side that was barely audible.
“What him say? Him give right password?”
“Think him say ‘dodo’.”
“Password not ‘dodo’, it ‘bobo’.”
“I know that, stupid!”
“Hey! What password? You say dodo?”
“I said BOBO!”
There was the sound of a bar being moved, and a moment later the door opened. The room had a throne, but it was made of lashed together tree branches, a bed, but it was so filthy Duromar would burn it before sleeping in it, and a large chest. There was an orc sitting on the throne, plus his eight guards. All were actual orcs.
“Who you?”
“Duromar. You’re the chief, I take it.”
“Chief Kah’ruzah me! What want?”
“Didn’t the message get here?”
The chief looked confused. “What message?”
“All the orcs I’ve been freeing from the others. They should have told you I was coming.”
The chief made a horrible grimace-no, that was meant to be a smile. “Yes! Great Grugoth send you.”
“Something like that.” All the while, Duromar had been steadily moving forward and found himself close enough to the chief now. Without another word, he yanked both swords out.
His first swing [Fumble!] went very wide, slicing [-17] into one of the guards by accident. The second hit the chief [-15] as intended. The stunned reactions let him attack [-16] again [-20] and [-20] again [-31], laying out the chief and three guards. Even as they raised weapons, he [-17] took down [-14] another. One hit him [-7 dam], but the others all missed. He didn’t take another wound as he cut [-18] them [-16] down [-23] in [-22] hard [-19] strikes. [+525 E.P.]
There was little of value in the room. The highlight was in a small box next to the throne. Five potions that looked the right color to be healing. The large chest wasn’t locked and held silver pieces. Nothing but silver pieces. Duromar estimated it was 700 pounds of silver pieces.
He searched the room, finding a concealed door behind a piece of cloth hanging on the wall. The narrow passage led to a crudely cut room and literal mounds of treasure. Copper, silver, and gold pieces piled everywhere. Mostly silver. A few gems, and a suit of platemail armor. He dug out the platemail, rubies, and some handfuls of gold, but the silver was far more than even he could carry. Probably a literal ton of silver pieces there.
He left the throne room and went to check out the shrine. The shrine itself held nothing of value, with all the food in various stages of rotting, but the mouth of the carving looked like it was a tunnel into another small room, and had some trinkets on the floor in there, mixed in some nesting material. That meant some kind of creature.
Thinking about it, he stepped to the side and chucked a vial of greek fire into the mouth. It roared into a fire, and seconds later, two black squirrel-like creatures came out. Dire squirrels, perhaps, with as large as they were. They took three blows each to take down, but even though they attacked like rabid squirrels, there was really no chance of his being in danger. [+74 E.P.]
The fire burned out quickly, so he crawled in to see what there was. Some gold, some silver, a necklace, and a nose ring that he suspected was magical.
He headed back down the short hallway and opened the door into the chief's antechamber. The orc in there was sleeping on the desk now.
He sighed silently and dispatched the useless fool. [+37 E.P.]
The next door led to a hallway of small rooms. The first one was empty, except for the orc crouched in the corner, looking like he was hiding. Or at least, trying to. He stood up as soon as Duromar entered the room, weapon out and ready. Maybe he was even trying to ambush Duromar. It didn’t matter, he went down easily [-17] in two [-16] strikes. Turning to the hall, he was confronted by a second orc, wielding a sharp sword instead of a useless spiked club. It didn’t change much, as he cut this one down [-21] just as [-14] easily. [+74 E.P.]
Only two rooms even had beds in them, so searching was quick and easy. Some actual gold, quite a bit in fact, and the sword were worth taking.
The next door led to a barracks of sleeping orcs. Actual orcs this time. Unfortunately, one was awake and sitting up. And what was worse, the lazy bastards who were asleep were sleeping in their armor. If he was quick, though, he could cut down the one awake before he could call out. His first blow was fair [-16], but his second [Crit! Severity 24, Top of Shoulder, -57, +1 honor] left the orc’s right arm on the floor as he collapsed. Even so, the noise was enough that a single orc stirred awake. He tried again, hitting [-15] twice [-25] taking out the second. This time, they stayed asleep. From there, it was a simple thing to finish the rest. [+294 E.P.]
MInes of Chaos: 9 of 11 regions cleared
* Ogre (1/1)
* Goblins (196/196)
* Owlbear (1/1)
* Bugbears (39/39)
* Trolls (2/2) & Gnolls (61/90)
* Simians (49/49)
* Minotaur (1/1)
* Hobgoblins (93/93)
* Orcs (31/31)
[+5 honor]
Looked like the Hobgoblins had cleared out after all. In fact, everything but the gnolls had. He searched the room, rather pleased with himself when he found the loose stone in the floor pinned down under the leg of a bed. Hidden under it was a black pearl of impressive size.
There was one final room to check on. It was locked with another rather flimsy lock. Behind the door was the orc armory. At least fifty spiked clubs tossed everywhere, some armor, some helmets. The arrows were of adequate quality, so he restocked. There were also some alcoves further back, one of which had a locked door with a padlock of much better quality than he’d seen anywhere else. It broke off with just a bit more effort, though. The revealed alcove was nearly empty, with only a small black velvet bag. In the bag was a plain iron ring.
“Yeah, this has got cursed item written all over it.” He didn’t even consider wearing it.
One other alcove was very curious. It was empty save for the pile of broken arrows near the back wall. He searched the wall but didn’t find the secret door.
One thing he was certain of, the quest didn’t tell him everything. The cook had said there was something beyond the barred gate, so that’s where he was going next.
He unlocked the gate and headed down the passage. It sloped downward, curving around to the left until it opened into the back of a large cavern. Nearby was another passage that left the cavern, one that had an obviously downward slope as well. His mining knowledge was enough to estimate that he was currently on the level of the lower caves, which meant there could be an even lower level to explore. But if he was right, this was the back end of the kobold caves.
He left the downslope for later and found the other exit out the cave. It led to a very large cavern, with a distinct odor of garbage in it. The enormous mound of trash across the room rose up as he entered, three long tentacles unwrapping themselves from the body.
Otyugh. Even nastier than Duromar had expected. They had a mild version of telepathy, not entirely unlike pixie fairies, and could sense other beings. It didn’t move to attack immediately, though. Instead, it said something. Duromar, not eager to try his luck with the diseases it was carrying, waited. It said something else, probably in another language.
“Do you understand common, by any chance?”
The otyugh was silent. Seemingly out of patience, it lumbered forward to attack instead. Duromar lashed out first, though, causing a grievous wound [-39] and then killing it [-32] before it could land a blow. [+683 E.P.]
He poked around in the trash, finding a locked chest. Pulling out a crowbar, he opened it, finding potions bottles and fancy looking anklets. No indication as to what they did.
Taking the next passage to the left of the way he entered, he followed a twisty passage that ended in a very obvious pit. It even had rope ladders on each side, so was obviously not meant as a trap. It was more likely put there as an impediment to the otyugh going down this passage.
He climbed down and up again, came around a corner, and found himself in a very slightly familiar chamber. It was the hobgoblins' training room, with the partial fortress wall. Somehow, he’d missed the extra exit before. He went back and took the next passage from the otyugh’s lair. This passage went up slightly, then reached a hallway that was squared off. He took the first door, which led to another hallway. Around a corner was a door, but he ignored that in favor of the chamber in front of him. It was a very makeshift torture chamber, probably. The devices looked both horrible and horribly made. Four kobolds were working on cleaning and maybe repairing them, but one must have heard him because a sharp word brought all four to their feet and they grabbed for weapons.
It was hard getting a good blow in on the little creatures, with [-10] his best [-12] attempts not even getting a single one down. While he did get one down [-9], by then they had weapons ready. By the time he got a second [-8] kobold down [-9], they were trying to flank him. That could have been a mistake, as he turned the tables and got an extra swing [-10] in while dodging the attack, and still hit [-9] again. He dropped the third [-11] but not the last [-9], who suddenly threw his weapon down and held his hands up. Duromar cut him down [-12] mercilessly. [+29 E.P.]
He went back to the skipped door and tried to open it. This proved to be quite a mistake, as a needle stabbed into his hand. Also, the door was locked. Pulling his hand back, he could see a hint of some green substance that had been on the needle.
[-1 dam] Yup, definitely poison. He wiped off the wound, but it was clearly too late to do much. He knew he had an amazing poison save, with bonuses from Con, race, class, and the ring of protection, but that was no guarantee of success. He waited a minute to see what happened.
[-5 dam] The real question was, how strong was it? Most poisons, if they didn’t kill you instantly, just did some damage over time, and weren’t really that bad.
[-2 dam] He hated having to wait it out, but what else could he do? When the damage stopped, if it was too much, he’d have to leave.
[-3 dam] Still going. Very annoying. He’d just been standing quietly in a hallway for four minutes now.
[-5 dam] He idly checked his health. [HP: 85/155] Not bad. Three days to heal up, but still above 50%.
A minute later, nothing happened. He waited just a bit more, but that seemed to be it. Heading right back to the door, this time he kicked it in. The door shattered like it was hit by a battering ram, with large pieces flying everywhere. It revealed a room fit for a chief, with some once nice furniture, but a layer of trash everywhere. Standing right in the middle of the room, ready for battle, was a kobold dressed in well-fitted chainmail and holding an ornate battleaxe. Without question, he’d heard the attempt to open the door and had spent the minutes putting on armor.
The kobold was quick, and swung first, showing some real skill. He was probably as good as Torendrock, even. It meant little, though, as [Crit! Severity 20, Side of Left Shoulder, -28, +1 honor] he nearly did the creature in with two [-12] blows. Heavily damaged, the kobold dropped to the floor, whimpering in shock and pain. One easy swing [-17] later, it was dead. [+242 E.P.]
Precision Cutting: +630 E.P.
He searched the room, finding the large ruby hidden under the mattress, and then also took the battleaxe for Torendrock. Didn’t seem magical, but it was also in perfect condition, which wouldn’t make sense unless it was.
The armoire held a chainmail repair kit, which while not valuable was not something he’d pass up, and some tools to maintain weapons. He grabbed that too. Magical weapons needed much less care, but much less was still not none, and failing to care for a valuable magic weapon was just dumb. The chief also had a single large key on him, which he took.
There was a flimsy door leading to another room. Opening it, he found what could only be described as a harem. It was clean, for one. There were five kobolds, each wearing a different colored dress, sitting in a circle of pillows on one side of the room. There were five small beds across the room, each decorated in the same colors as the dresses, each with a small footlocker.
He was a bit shocked when one kobold stood, and started berating him. He couldn’t understand a word she was saying, but the tone and hand gestures were clear. When he continued to stand there bemused, the others stood up as well and joined in, a chorus of angry women lecturing him on what was probably his manners, his dress, his dubious parentage, his crude appearance, his odor, and who knew what else. Baffled, he found himself backed away from the door by a particularly vigorous fingering shaking. At that moment, all five turned and fled out the door. [+28 E.P., -10 honor]
He hurried after them, but they hadn’t gone any further than the chief’s room. There were five identical wails of dismay, and the next thing he knew, five kobolds were attacking him. Five angry women, even armed with nothing but their claws were much harder to put down than he expected. [-11] [-12] [-12] [-4 dam] [-10] [-8] [-12] [-8] [-9] [-13] [-15] And one even got through his armor. [+9 E.P., -5 honor]
Sighing, he looted the harem room anyway. He found the keys to the footlockers on the kobolds, and an impressive amount of jewelry in the footlockers. Each had a silver ring with a different colored gemstone, a silver necklace with matching gemstone, other fine clothing… one locker had a disturbing black leather outfit and whip. He shoved that back in and closed the lid. There was a flask with something that smelled alcoholic. He took that and the ring-necklace sets but left most everything else.
He also took away an important lesson. Don’t let someone disrespect you.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Name: Duromar
E.P.: 97215
Next Level: 150001