The entrance to the Underdark was like stepping into another world—one that, though only a few feet beneath the earth’s surface as we traveled down a few steps once we passed the gate. It felt as distant from the warmth and light of the sun as any place could. Beyond the torches flickering in the dim light, the air grew thick with moisture and the faint, acrid scent of decay. It was a scent that clung to the stone walls and seemed to seep from the very ground. The Underdark was alive with a kind of quiet malevolence, a pressure that pressed down from above and closed in from all sides. The quiet was unsettling; there was an absence of sound as if the world here existed in a state of holding its breath, waiting for something—anything—to break the silence.
The passage ahead narrowed quickly, the walls of the cavern pressing in like the ribs of some ancient creature, the air stale and thick with the smell of damp rock and the faint echo of distant, unfathomable noises. The only light came from the torches, their flames trembling in the oppressive air, casting long, jagged shadows that danced on the walls like specters. But even their flicker wasn’t enough to pierce the deepening gloom as the path twisted further into the depths. Beyond the reach of the light, it was impossible to tell what might be lurking just beyond sight, waiting for the next unprepared fool to step too far.
The stone beneath our boots was slick with moisture, and the jagged rock formations overhead seemed to threaten to drop down on us at any moment. The ceilings here were low—too low—and I had to duck beneath outcroppings of stone that seemed to hang just a bit too close. One misstep, one moment of carelessness, and your skull could meet the sharp edge of a stalactite. That’s why you couldn’t ever let your guard down here. In the Underdark, the ground was as dangerous as the creatures that might stalk it.
At one point, the path opened into a cavern so wide the walls disappeared into the shadowed distance, swallowed by the vastness. The ceiling, too, seemed to stretch upward endlessly, hidden in the dark. The air here was heavier, thick with the scent of mildew and earth, a kind of choking dampness that clung to everything. Strange fungi, the size of small trees, grew along the walls, glowing faintly in blues, greens, and sickly yellows. Their light barely penetrated the thick darkness, casting an eerie, otherworldly glow that only made the shadows deeper and the silence louder.
It wasn’t the kind of place where the sounds of your breath and footfalls were comforting—they felt more like a signal to whatever might be lurking nearby. Noises echoed strangely here. A soft scraping sound might be nothing at all—or it might be a creature of the dark, skittering just beyond sight. Sometimes, the walls seemed to hum with an energy you couldn't explain, as though the very rock beneath your feet was alive, thrumming with some ancient power that no one understood.
And then there were the creatures. The stories of the Underdark were filled with them. I'd seen some of them myself, up close and personal. The Gricks, for instance, with their worm-like bodies and beak-like mouths, were a nightmare. They moved in silence, winding through the tunnels like some twisted version of the earth itself. When they struck, it was with sudden, savage speed. You could never hear them coming—only the feel of the ground trembling beneath you as they coiled and attacked.
And the Cloakers, I'd only seen a glimpse of one before, a dark shape gliding silently through the air like some monstrous manta ray. It moved with an unnatural grace, its wide, leathery wings trailing behind it like a shadow that threatened to swallow everything in its path. What was worse, their chameleon-like ability to blend into the stone walls made them nearly impossible to spot until they were right on top of you.
But the Grell—the Grell was something different altogether. I had only heard the rumors about them before I encountered one. The brain with tentacles. It sounded ridiculous, until I saw it for myself. Its bald, featureless head hovered in the dark, with a mass of writhing tentacles reaching out toward you. Its mind was a weapon, its alien thoughts a dizzying wash of confusion and terror that made your thoughts feel sluggish and heavy. That kind of terror wasn’t something you could prepare for. It was primal. You could feel its malice without ever having to see it clearly.
And then there was the Gelatinous Cube. That bastard. It moved silently, like a massive, translucent, gooey mass, sliding through the narrowest of passages. And once it touched you—once its acidic, dissolving surface made contact with your skin—it burned. It burned like the fires of hell itself, and there was nothing you could do to stop it except run—and even that wasn’t always enough. The Cube was relentless.
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No, the Underdark wasn’t a place for the faint-hearted or unprepared. Even the seasoned explorers who came down here did so with caution and fear. It was a realm where the very landscape seemed intent on swallowing you whole, where the light barely managed to hold back the endless, creeping dark. And just when you thought you had a handle on things, when the path seemed like it might open up to something more familiar, the ground would give way beneath your feet, or something would shift in the shadows, and you'd remember exactly why people feared this place.
Théoden, ever vigilant, wasn’t just being cautious with his scrying spells. He knew better than anyone the danger of this place. The Underdark didn’t just have monsters—it had a way of warping your mind, too. It played with your senses, made you question what was real, and what was simply a trap laid out by the world itself. It was a place for those who knew the risks, and were still willing to face them. But if you weren’t ready for it, if you weren’t trained to survive in its depths, the Underdark would spit you out—broken and lost—just as quickly as it had swallowed you.
“Be vigilant!” I shouted quietly as we traversed deeper into the Underdark. “Keep a look out for monsters!” My plan was that I’d utilize the few spells I had to track Sybil’s body. My group was responsible for keeping an eye on the surrounding area for things that may attack.
“Up ahead! A cube!” Greg the Gnome spoke up. “Ready for combat!”
“Ay!” I shouted back as I drew my bow and steadied myself as the cube slowly approached our group. “Fire!” I shouted as I shot my large crossbow and fired twice. The first hit sunk right into the cube. Seemingly doing some damage, the second hit went wide.
The next shot came from Greg, who popped a short bow shot at the cube. “Damn it!” Greg spat as his shot hit the ground right in front of the cube.
Next went Rider, my human companion. “I got this bastard!” Rider shouted as he spoke a few words and three missiles flew past us. Hitting the cube instantly. Dealing a decent amount of damage.
“Nice one!” I shouted back as I readied myself for my next two shots. We still had one person left to shoot and that was my brother, Harry.
Harry shot a liquid bolt of fire out of his palm and hit the cube. Instantly causing the sound of fizzling to echo through the chamber we were in. It did some damage but not as much damage as we like.
“Try shatter next!” I shouted back.
“Got it!” Harry spoke.
I had hoped that shatter would eliminate the rest of the cube after we all had our turn. However, before we got the chance, it had to attack. With me being in the front, it tried to swallow me into its gelatinous body. Thankfully, I managed to dodge most of it but the burn… damn that blasted burn still stinged the fur on my body.
“Tracker, are you alright?” Rider shouted.
“Yeah… I’m good!” Eh… the acid burned like hell but I didn’t need to show them my weakness.
“One more round and we got this!” Greg shouted.
I hoped he was right. As I took my shot, the first one sunk right in. Dealing a decent amount of damage to the cube. The second shot, same scenario.
“A few more hits!” I shouted back to my group. “It’s barely holding its form now!” I said as I looked upon the creature and saw that the creature was barely holding together.
“Ay!” Greg shouted as he shot his bow and sank it to the left side of the creature.
“My go!” Rider shouted as he fired three more missiles, his last, dealing the final amount of damage we needed to despite the cube.
“Yes!” Rider shouted as he was happy that he got the kill shot.
“Nice!” I shouted as they all approached me, giving them all a high five. “Let’s get moving. We have yet to find Sybil.” I told them as we began to slowly move up the winding path once more. Once we reached the top, I utilize the spell locate creature and tried to see if we were anywhere near Sybil.
And to my surprise, I had already received a ping. However, based on the spell, the ping showed she was still a good distance away from us. Telling us she was North, and at least eight hundred feet ahead of us.
Eight hundred feet… I just hoped we didn’t run into any more trouble.