Regrouping

The Defenders are tossed like leaves on a winter storm. They are flying, flying ever upwards through the utter darkness, fighting the gale winds that whip through the Deeping Rift as they try to reach their refuge before the mass fly spell wears off. As they slowly and laboriously rise, they discuss their findings.

"We went over the ship fairly carefully," explains Galthia to several dwarven troops, "and we found some papers, but not too much that was useful. We ended up sinking the ship, just before the walls of water crashed down. I think we're done down there."

"I still think we should sail," grumps Tao. "We have the folding boat that we took from the Dockside Royals, remember? The Bloody Grail."

"And who would navigate?" asks Velendo, who is trying not to get blown into a rock outcropping. "None of us know how to sail."

"I do," remarks Nolin with a smile, thinking of his new spell improvisation that can make him a temporary expert in any subject. "For a very, very brief time." Nolin savors Velendo's sarcastic glare as the group finally reaches the tunnel that links the Deeping Rift to Nulloc Toadbringer's former quarters. They clamber through the narrow gap one by one, only to be met by one of the dwarves who they had left as a guard.

"Ah, Holdin," booms Splinder. "How were things?"

"Fine, Sir," answers Holdin. "The Illithid Empire sends their greetings. They wish you to know that if we only turn over the slaveling Gith, they will be pleased to aid us in our quest. If we do not, they shall treat us as cattle and traitors." The dwarf stamps a foot. "We should turn him over, Sir. Now. I told them it wouldn't be a problem."

Even as the color begins to rise in Galthia's pale face, Velendo rolls his eyes. "Illithid Empire, huh? That's a laugh." He leans towards the dominated dwarf. "Can you hear me? You have no empire! You've been wiped out by the damn ghouls, and we're cleaning up your mess. Now get the hell outta here. You try this again, you get no mercy. Tao?"

"Already on it." Tao casts protection from evil on the dwarf, and his eyes suddenly refocus.

"Oh, Moradin's sack! I'm so sorry, Sir. I never saw a thing."

"I bet." Splinder is frowning. "We need a head count to see if anyone got eaten, and we need to check whether or not anyone else is dominated." He glowers through his braided beard. "Blasted squidheads."

"I still can't detect magic," reminds Agar.

"All accounted for, Sir!"

"Good."

Galthia is fuming, his normally placid demeanor taut and strained. "I suggest we track and destroy them right now. We're incredibly fortunate that no one was eaten."

The group has a fast discussion, and vetoes the plan. "We're drained. I don't want to lose anyone else." Velendo throws his arm across Galthia's bony shoulders. "Come on into the Calphas' Comfortable Castle. I cast it this morning as a refuge, so it'll last until tomorrow. We can dispel any domination, rest, and plan." Reluctantly, Galthia agrees, and the entire unit of dwarves and heroes file through the narrow portal. Inside, the utter darkness of the caverns is no more, and regular light can be seen. They also discover that divination spells are working in the extra-dimensional space, and three more dwarves are revealed to be dominated. That's quickly dispelled by the clerics, and the group settles down to rest.

"Velendo, can you cast sending for me?" asks Mara. "I want to find out what is happening elsewhere in the world."

"Of course," agrees Velendo, and casts the spell to fling Mara's message through the multiverse into the ear of Father Whalter of Corsai. Velendo lifts his head to catch Mara's sapphire blue eyes.

"Well? What'd he have to say?"

Velendo frowns. "No response. Either he's asleep or it didn't reach him."

"Or he's dead," says Tao with concern in her voice.

"Also a possibility. It also might have gotten lost in the ether. Who knows what Imbindarla's death has done? We'll try tomorrow." Tao also tries to cast a sending for Malachite, and similarly receives no response. Frowning, she settles in her chapel to pray.

Over a sumptuous breakfast the next morning, the group discusses their plans and whether they should travel by land or sea. "The advantage of sea is that it's probably faster, and may have less enemies to run into. The big disadvantage is that no one knows how to navigate." Velendo takes a slurp of tea.

"That's no problem," says Nolin as he glops more clotted cream onto a jam-filled scone. "We'll just go around the edge of the sea. It's how the ancient mariners used to do it when they didn't want to go out of sight of land. They'd stick one guy up in the crows nest, and everyone else would laze around while he yelled 'See it! See it!' Then if land went out of sight, he'd scream 'Don't see it!', and they'd all jump up and row like madmen until they could see land again."

Everyone gives Nolin a doubting look.

"Trust me!" the bard says, waving his scone for emphasis. "I'm a historian. I know all about this sort of thing."

"Uh huh." Velendo's tone is politely incredulous. "I'm sure. And if there is still no light in the world, that might be a little tricky with only 60' darkvision. The big advantage of going by land is that we can find out what else is happening in the world. I tried another sending this morning, and got no answer.

"Everyone is probably dead." Priggle nibbles on some dry bread. "That would be about right."

"Shush, Priggle," says Mara. "Try to see the positive side of things." He looks up at her dourly, catches her eye, and almost smiles despite himself. He opens his mouth but takes a bite of bread instead of speaking.

"Well, we need information," complains Nolin. "I like the idea of a nice sea voyage, but our map points the way towards the gogglers.. the kuo-toa, who I think are clammy fish-people. I think swinging by Akin's Throat again might be the best thing to do." The group takes a quick vote, and Tao is out-numbered. A land voyage it is.

"Another concern," says Mara. "The sun didn't rise this morning."

The room goes silent. "What?"

"Ever since we became in Akin's Throat, I can tell when the sun rises, and Malachite can tell when it sets. It didn't rise this morning."

Everyone exchanges a glance. Priggle opens his mouth to speak, thinks twice about it, and snaps it shut. His worried expression is echoed around the table.

"Well," says Velendo slowly, "let's go see what's out there."

* * *>Note: I haven't written up Mara and Malachite's transition to their new prestige

What's outside is icy darkness. Light still does not work, and the cold wind continues to whip through the narrow tunnel. Frost has formed on the stone, and the howling of the wind is almost surreal. "Reminds me of Pandemonium," remarks Agar. "All tunnels and wind."

"The wind is made up of spirits," says Stone Bear wonderingly. "They stream past, screaming." His empty eye sockets see the souls as they tumble by.

"Nice," groans Agar. "I don't think I envy you."

"Be alert," cautions Galthia. "The illithids have certainly not departed." But as the group makes their way out of the tunnels and head back towards Akin's Throat, they don't see any illithid-sign. They do see hundreds of thousands of beetles, though, crunching underfoot and clambering across jagged stone walls. The death of the Goddess of That Which Crawls In Darkness seems to have brought the insects out in full force.

Hours into their march, the group is crossing through a small circular cave when Mara notices something uncomfortable. Ouch! she thinks. That hurt! Looking down, she sees that a small beetle is hanging by its pinchers from her forearm. Almost instinctively, she gives a quick glance over at Agar, but his magical belt keeps small vermin away from him. The others, though...

Seeing only with darkvision, Mara's first impression is that people are all wearing dark boots. Then the "boots" continue to squirm and crawl upwards, and Mara's stomach does a slow, lazy flip of revulsion. "Watch out! " she starts to say, and then looks down at her own legs. Inch-long beetles coat them like dark and scuttling paint, and with a thrill of horror she realizes that the insects are in the process of squirming through the joints in her armor.

"What is it, Mara?" asks Nolin in concern. He hasn't noticed it yet, but beetles are crawling quickly up the cuff of his pants and falling down into his boots.

"It's..." She doesn't have time to complete her answer, as hundreds of beetles chomp down simultaneously. Almost everyone in the group screams from the pain.

"Oh Gods! Get them off! Get them off!" Other than Agar – who is screaming more out of general principle than actual pain, since no beetle can touch him – only Nolin and Tao are untouched. Everyone else pinwheels around, trying to slap or fling away the dozens of beetles that have locked their pinchers into flesh. The agony is searing and intense, and very, very personal.

Velendo swallows down his panic. "It might be creeping doom! Run! Get out of the area! Now!" The old cleric hikes up the edge of his robes and sprints forward as fast as his old bones will carry him, an army of dwarves and adventurers fast on his heels. Unable to get through the crush at the cavern exit, Galthia grabs Priggle and nimbly leaps atop a stalagmite that rises from the cavern floor.

Below them, Tao shakes her arm and watches beetles tumble off of it. She looks at Nolin. "We're outsiders. They can't penetrate our skin." Over the exclamations and shouts of pain from their friends, Nolin agrees.

"You're right. That's kind of nice. But I still don't especially like bugs, and someone around here cast it on us." He calls to Rides the Sun and mentally superimposes her phoenix shape over the mental image of his own body. Instantly, flame leaps out from his skin to sear away any insect it touches. "There goes another perfectly fine set of underclothing," Nolin laments, and turns towards the hundreds of hungry insects crawling up the stalagmite towards Galthia. Flame leaps from his hands to burn the stone pillar temporarily clean. "You're clear, Galthia. Go!"