Dorn's Deep

"A dwerf, at times, be born with old magics in thar blood, magics long forgotten by most small folk. It be magic of Giants. My skin heralds a mark of Frost.

"I see." Al spins her glaive like a top in one hand, and taps her gauntleted fingers on the hilt of her sword with the other. "Go on."

"Frost giant magic in a dwarf," Alalla muses, eyebrows raised. "I'll never understand magic. Still, I'm glad you're using it as our ally."

"You make an old dwerf blush. Aye, but a grateful dwerf he is too, to have companions once more."

Nym flashes his trademark smile. "I always knew you were more than just a pretty face, Alalla. Well, you see, your companion Zenithral is about to be returned to you - his survival, in sure you can guess, is due to my generosity! And with him, a certain old gnomish lady who I am sure is also of some import to you." Nym inspects the party's faces and winks at Ug's reaction.

"Of course, that is the plan. Except that Malavon is a greedy git who will most assuredly not keep his end of this particular bargain. I have no love for him, and I happen to have a soft spot in my heart for your heroic company here." His eyes flick to Reòthadh and he coughs into his hand. "And so I tell you: The great and powerful Malavon awaits you in the next chamber, but do not trust him."

The grin returns to his face. "But stick with me and I'll get you through this."

"Zenithral!" Al clears her throat and schools her face to stillness once more. "Well. Thank you for letting us know. We appreciate your help. You do still owe us for Bilewing's riches, after all."

"Oh that... Surely you're not still sore about that? But you're right, this does make up for that, doesn't it? Your lives are valuable, after all! You could even say I'm cutting you a deal by calling it even between us for saving your lives right now."

The drow makes a grand gesture with one arm back toward the corridor. "At the far end of this passageway you will find a spacious room where Malavon is waiting with Zenithral and that gnome lady - but do not be fooled, for she is an illusion. At least, I'm about eighty percent sure she is...

Anyway. If you have any way of circumventing a stone bridge spanning a chasm filled with boiling lava... you should do that.

Also! Beware of giant bug men. Their eyes will drive you mad. If you have any magic capable of dispelling polymorph spells, I think one of them is an old rival of Malavon's who was punished to serve him in that form. There could be an ally there if you give him a chance.

And, of course, know that Malavon is one of the most powerful drow wizards in existence. I once saw him boil the air around some unfortunate slaves just for the fun of it. There wasn't much left afterwards."

The merchant pauses for breath. "Well, that should just about cover it! Good luck!"

He vanishes.

.

Erevain looks considerably better after the time spent recuperating. He double-checks his sword buckle, then moves forward with the rest of the party. "For many of you, the only drow you have met is Nym. He is eccentric, but among drow his treacherous behavior is only commonplace. We must be on guard at every moment."

HP: 101/102

When they are ready, the companions move forward through the corridor before them. They pass by a score of quaggoth bodies along the way as the red light at the end of the passageway grows brighter. Angrier. Then they pass into a large chamber and are immediately assaulted by much greater heat, as if the air itself wishes to strangle them. The chamber is split through the middle by an intimidating crevasse from which glows light that paints the room’s inhabitants a mottled orange.

Closest to the party are a pair of well-armed minotaur guards. They bear the scars of slaves, but their chainmail armor is top-notch, and they grip their mighty axes tightly. Beyond them is a stone walkway across the chasm, at the far end of which stand a trio of dark elf warriors, Zenithral with them. A shadow grips the half-elf archer. Not a specter such as Vincent’s, but a foul humor that darkens Zenithral’s demeanor. One of the warriors wears the face that Nym first showed when he earlier approached the party. Now he stands grim-faced with the others.

Behind Zenithral is a corridor that has lost its war with time, entirely collapsed with dirt and rubble. To either side of the half-elf, however, are short stairways that lead up to balconies that overlook the room. The right balcony holds yet another dark elf (Spellsword), this one garbed in finer armor than those about Zenithral.

On the left balcony stands an imperious drow dressed in ostentatious red robes. Malavon glowers down at the party with loathing in his eyes. He rests one hand on the shoulder of a small, elderly gnomish woman before him. Though she shows no resemblance to the mighty goliath barbarian Ug, it takes only a glance at him to recognize that this is indeed his mother.

Malavon sneers, then speaks in heavily accented Common. "Relinquish your weapons, or this woman dies." His free hand begins to glow with terrible power.

Looking at the Nancy-Gnome, Vincent connects to her mind.

"Ah, now that I'm inside your head, I can see the truth. You are not in fact the real Nancy. This is good to know. Do me a little favor, blink at me twice to prove to my party you aren't the real Nancy, and if we win this little encounter, we won't kill you in a slow and painful way for impersonating my dear Goliath's dearest mother."

"First, prove to us she's real!" Alalla retorts. She catches Vincent's eye briefly to let him know the message is mostly for him. "I've seen illusions before."

Vincent receives no mental reply, and Nancy simply stands there with her head bowed.

Malavon shrugs. Then he waves his hand, and the gnome turns inside out and falls to the floor with a wet *smack*.

The wizard turns to his allies and speaks a wrathful command in Elvish. "Kill them!" He throws himself into spellcasting.

Immediately the minotaurs raise their axes, the drow warriors lift crossbows, and the lone drow on the far balcony begins a spell of his own.

One of the drow warriors takes a single step back out of the line of sight of his nearest allies, then extends a hand toward Zenithral. A magnificent bow appears in the drow's hand, one that the half-elf recognizes.

The drow warrior winks and tosses Kaylessa's bow to Zenithral. "Remember, this is just a loan."

As the minotaurs come charging in, Alalla throws her glaive at the wizard. She shouts the command word and it becomes lighting. Its crackling trail catches one of the minotaurs in its wake, and it hits Malavon so solidly it threatens to knock him over.

Al sets her stance and draws her sword as the minotaurs arrive. She lights it right in the face of the minotaur already charred by her lightning and takes advantage of its surprise to strike.

Malavon takes 17 slashing and 18 lightning damage, and must make a strength save or be knocked prone. Minotaur 1 is also hit by the lightning and takes 16 lightning damage (or half on a DC 13 Dex save). Minotaur 1 also takes 17 slashing and 5 fire damage and must make a wisdom save or be afraid of Al.

HP: 139/144
AC: 20

Ras, glancing around, notices the Spellsword off to the side. Knowing that guy could cause some serious damage to his friends, Ras attempts to take him out of the fight, even if only temporarily.

Ras casts Hold Person on Spellsword

Vincent takes aim at Malavon and let's fly two arrows. Specter floats over to the Spellsword and attacks.

In Malavon's head: "I really hope, for your sake, that you know what you're doing. Pretending to take a Goliath's mother and killing her in front of his eyes is a good way to end up dead. No matter who or what is between you and him. Anyway, I like to remember those that pass on. Is there anything you would like said at your ceremony? Any specific traditions? I won't promise to honor them all, but if it's easy I will try."

Malavon takes 28 damage.

HP:81/87
AC:18
Ki:6/7
SS:3/3

HP: 153/154
AC 16
Size: Huge

The dwarf looks at the minotaurs, looking up and down to size them up.

"Ye seem like ye could use some dwerf hospitality, come here and let an old dwerf give ye a hug.

The Dwarf increases in size to match the minotaur, for a moment they lock eyes.

Grabbing Ug, he heaves him toward Mavalon with all of his might.
Reo casts Enlarge (Uses Rage of Ostoria) and quickens the spell.

As Ug flies, the dwarf continues growing, until he truly resembles a giant in stature.

Minotaur 1 is dead