The Troupe make their way through the deeper parts of the Iron Throne’s mine, cleaving their way through hobgoblin guards. Now they have entered into a room filled with mutilated corpses, and a dark booming voice taunts them. What invisible foe awaits them in the torchlight?
1 Eleint 1368
We find a large room with a tall ceiling. Human bodies lay strewn across an otherwise empty room. Their wounds are not that of combat. These people have been tortured. The blood stains on the floor are dry, they are not recent. But one body still has colour, and his blood is still wet.
Then a deep laughter fills the room. Whoever, whatever, did this to these people is still here! And its voice starts to taunt us.
Ogre Mage: So, have you come to look at my handiwork? Rather impressive, ain’t it? The guy to the left of me screamed quite a while before he finally expired. HA ha ha ha.
We draw our weapons and attempt to retreat. I decide to try and talk our way out of the situation.
Aegon: We’ve been given orders that you are to release the prisoners. Please do so now.
Ogre Mage: I don’t think you got any such orders. No, I think you’re not even supposed to be here.
I don’t know why I thought that would work…
We hear sounds, the sounds of someone conjuring the Weave. Whoever our assailant is, they are a magic user.
Then I sense a breeze, something is swinging toward me. I raise my shield and manage to block what feels like a blade but the force of it pushes me down. Then five images appear before me of a heavily armed ogre.
Branwen calls upon Tempus to grant us bravery in the fight to come.
I raise Bashrik’s Hammer and strike the ogre mage on its chin, as the others strike it with bolt and bullet. Two of the images disappear as they are struck, and the mage is left bloodied and dazed. The ogre attempts to retreat to the opposite corner of the chamber.
As it does so, Kivan strikes it in the back of the neck. It clutches the arrow as thick blood pours from the wound. We feel the ground shake as it collapses to its knees, then falls on its face. The beast is dead.
We take a moment to contemplate. We got lucky this time. The mage fell before it could use any of its magic. Perhaps it was low on arcane power. Whatever the reason for its weakness, we count ourselves lucky.
Now the ogre has fallen, we take some time to search its corpse and the corpse of its victims. They were seemingly stripped of their possessions before their torture, but the ogre mage itself carried a gold necklace alongside the Enchanted Katana it used as a weapon.
This chamber is a dead end, so we leave and continue down the corridor to the south. We find a small room with a small table. A human guard sits here, and stands up as soon as we enter.
Guard: Is there a reason for you being here? You had better have a good explanation for bothering me!
Aegon: We’re here on business. We wanted to purchase some of your iron.
Guard: Not good enough. Surrender yourselves now.
Kivan hits him with an Arrow of Ice. It goes right through his chest and his movement slows as his body freezes.
This gives Dynaheir the chance to hurl a bullet into him. His chest cracks on impact and the guard coughs up blood as he hits the dirt.
We strip the guard of equipment before leaving him to rot. There are two corridors leading out from this room. We opt to take the corridor leading to the west. Here we meet a guard who seems a little more friendly than the others.
Guard: Are you here to pay homage to our dread lord?
Dynaheir: A Dread Lord? ‘Tis not a name I recognize, but with the passing of the lords of strife and murder, the Prince of Lies might well have claimed such a title.
Guard: Answer me!
I decide to try and avoid a fight once again.
Aegon: Yes, we are.
Guard: Say our dread lord’s name aloud in prayer.
Aegon: By the Black Hand of Bane.
Guard: He’s dead, you idiot. Now die!
I feel dumb. I should have known that with my studies at the Keep, but it was the only name I could think of. He raises his sword, but Kivan already has an arrow notched and fells the guard.
From the room the guard was defending we hear singing. We enter the chamber and find a shrine to a dark good, the symbol of a Black Sun in the background. Cyric! I should have known!
In front of the altar there is a human couple holding hands. The lady continues to sing.
Cordelia: I’m getting married in the morning…
Dispero: Ah, my beloved! The day we’ve been waiting for has come.
Cordelia: Yes, my love. Do you remember the first time we met? When you were guarding the entrance to Davaeorn’s quarters and I was working with Stephen on wands?
Dispero: Yes, but it seems so long ago. You were recharging those wands of magic missile… and then I saw your pretty face looking at me from across the room. You set off a missile and I barely got out of the way!
He laughs.
Dispero: Was that only six months ago?
Cordelia: It was an accident! Really!
Dispero: I know it was…
The woman sighs.
Cordelia: That first time I saw you… Gods, you were hot! All swagger and – muscles! My hands shook so that my fingers twitched on the wand! My love, I could not have imagined then how important you would become to me, but I knew I wanted you from the first. Kiss me, Dispero!
He leans in and kisses her passionately.
Dispero: How sweet you taste! Well, we shall have the rest of our lives together to enjoy that. I wonder when the minister shall arrive? He was here only this morning…
It’s at this point the woman notices our presence. It seems they were enraptured with each other until now.
Cordelia: My darling… I think our guests are arriving.
Dispero: Yes. Let me just see to them… Wait! Who are you?
There is fear in his eyes. They clearly know we aren’t supposed to be here. This time I decide that truth is the best way forward.
Aegon: We’re Aegon and his party of adventurers here to rescue the slaves and close down the mine.
Dispero: Hey! I can’t let you do that!
I put my hand on Bashrik’s Hammer. Kivan raises his bow.
Cordelia: Wait, darling… Look at them! They are stained with blood and look to have been in recent combat… Perhaps the screams we heard were not caused by the ogre mage’s victims. Don’t be a fool and throw our lives away over some misplaced sense of duty. Today’s my wedding day… I don’t want to die!
I hadn’t noticed how much blood covered us until the lady pointed it out.
Dispero: Do not worry, my love… Whatever happens, I will protect you. Look, whoever you are…Aegon… From the look of you, you’ve been slaughtering people to get this far…
But we’ve been planning this wedding and our honeymoon for weeks. I’m technically on vacation. For the sake of my lady, could you just pretend you didn’t see us leaving?
Aegon: We’re looking for your boss–the guy who runs this whole mine. Tell us where he is and we’ll let you live.
Dispero is hesitant, but the lady speaks up right away.
Cordelia: Davaeorn’s on the fourth level. You can’t miss him.
Come, love. Better to lose our jobs than our lives.
Dispero: Right behind you, darling.
They quickly shuffle out of the shrine. On instinct, I step aside for them. They rush down the western corridor, likely toward the exit.
Kivan follows them with his bow, but I carefully place my hand on his wrist and shake my head. They aren’t a threat, and there are no more guards to ask for help. As Dispero said, we have been slaughtering people to get this far. Kivan lowers his bow, but keeps an arrow in place.
Several potions have been placed on the altar among the offerings to Cyric. The Prince of Lies doesn’t deserve such gifts, so we take them for ourselves. The offerings include an Elixir of Health, a Potion of Stone Giant Strength, a Potion of Healing, and a Potion of Invulnerability.
We follow the path of the fleeing couple down the west corridor. We find ourselves in a room surrounded by recently slain hobgoblin corpses. We are in the entrance chamber once again. As I surmised, the soon-to-be newlyweds must have been fleeing the mines.
There is a corridor leading to the south that is as yet unexplored so we follow it. It leads to a room containing a forge of Dwarven design. You can feel the heat from the molten metal and it is hard to breathe in this room.
At the back of this room a corridor leads to the east. Halfway down it we find a room containing a deep hole carved into the rock. We can’t even begin to understand what this hole must be for.
At the end of the corridor we find another forge, this one with anvils and hammers littered around the tables. They must be making their own weapons down here. The hobgoblins guarding this room lay down their hammers and draw their swords.
Though we kill one of them quickly, these guards fight with more tenacity. I am unable to keep them at bay and one of their swords connects and slashes my arm open. With my working arm I reach for a Potion of Additional Healing.
Now that I am healed to full strength and I know their attack patterns I am able to defend myself against them. They fall one by one, with Kivan getting most of the kills with his bow.
The hobgoblins don’t have anything but a few gems amongst their effects, but we take a closer look at the forge. It’s clear it has been in use recently.
The Iron Throne must have been making its own weapons and supplying the bandits. It’s why they were so well armed even though the smiths above ground had no untainted weapons. This is confirmation that the bandits didn’t need the iron. The Throne’s plan must have just been to reduce the amount of iron on the Sword Coast.
What I still don’t understand is why. What is their end game?
There is only one unexplored corridor leading out of the forge. We follow it to the east and find another couple of hobgoblin guards. Kivan, always ready, strikes one of the guards and they immediately panic.
As I chase down the remaining guard he strikes me in the should with an arrow. The guards are more skilled down here. We must be getting close to Davaeorn.
I pull out a Potion of Healing from my belt, and Kivan strikes the second guard as well.
They are both panicking now, attempting to get out of the room. Kivan finishes both of them off before they get the chance to escape.
There is only one more exit to go, and this one has stairs leading down. The fourth level, Davaeorn’s lair awaits us. It’s almost time to shut down this mine for good.
I take a step forward and my head starts to hurt. I collapse on one knee clutching my head as the pain gets ever stronger. I see fire, fire consuming us all, our bodies charred burnt beyond recognition. Still barely alive I take a step forward. I see a mage, a satisfied smile on his face. I feel the sharp sting of an arrow piercing my neck and…
Darkness. Quiet. Peace…
