The Gates of Mrid

After splitting up treasure and having a final meal with the remaining dwarves of Mridsgate, the Defenders set off for Mrid. With them goes Glibstone the dwarven jester, albeit reluctantly. Malachite soon tires of the dwarf's traditional jokes, and Glibstone finds a more receptive audience amongst Splinder and his dwarven troops. It makes the week-long trek through the caves tolerable for all.

The travel is slow and cautious. Detrius from the ghouls' advance still litters the dwarven road. The company picks their way along over ledges and hastily repaired bridges, passing cast away bones and unidentifiable gobbets of flesh that have already been savaged by underdark scavengers. Judging from the sheer quantity of discarded bones, the number of prisoners taken at the battle of Mrid must have been substantial. The dwarves get angrier and angrier as they travel.

The group is ever-alert for any signs of active undead, but there are none. "I don't like this," grumbles Velendo. "Where are they?" No one knows. They expect problems going through an area known as The Ripples, a place where the stone is frozen into what looks like waves on a beach. No undead await them there, any any large predators in the area have apparently been hunted down and eaten by the ghouls.

When the group nears the svirfneblin sanctuary of Mosssong, a gem mining community buried deep within narrow winding passages, the core group of the Defenders separates from the rest of the troops. Under a wind walk spell, they follow Priggle through winding and trackless tunnels towards the deep gnomes. They hope to find the gnomes alive. Instead, they find corridors sealed with magically conjured stone. The group tries five or six different ways to get in, but all are blocked, so they resort to a sending with Priggle's Uncle. "Priggle here. All ways into Mosssong are blocked. Is everyone okay? Did the ghouls attack you? Do you need anything? Respond briefly." In reply, Velendo hears, "Priggle! Glad you escaped. We have sealed the entrances and are continuing our work, undisturbed. All is well; no ghoul attack. Your aunt says hi." Slightly dubious -- "He didn't sound undead," comments Velendo -- but reassured, the Defenders rejoin their group and continues towards Mrid.

On the fourth day, Agar's prying eyes spell detects something disturbing while scouting ahead. In a wide chasm, a bridge originally destroyed by fleeing dwarves has been restored by the ghouls. The new bridge is narrow, poorly balanced, and made from fused skeletons that are still animate. Merged hand and arm, the bridge spans the gap, jawbones clicking as they wait for their ghoulish masters to return. On the far side of the span, the prying eyes picks up some sort of waiting humanoid shape or shapes. The Defenders pause just out of sight from the chasm.

"We'd best be careful," says Malachite. "This is probably a trap by the Puppeteer."

"I hate that guy," says Nolin idly. "I wish he'd show himself for real."

Malachite looks at him. "Indeed. In any event, I suggest we come up with a plan."

Using invisibility to undead spells, a portion of the group flies across the chasm to the far side. There they find waiting three young, female dwarves. The dwarven children sit drooling, clearly dead and reanimated as zombies. In their arms are bunches of wilting flowers from some underground plant. The group never finds out why they are there, or listens to their message; instead, using a combination of travel spells and invisibility to undead, they travel past the waiting undead children without ever being seen.

The next day, they approach Beholder Rock, a large landmark that looks remarkably like an immense beholder. It has clearly been carved in days long past to resemble one even more. Once again, the group expects an ambush, and once again the crossroads are deserted. While they are standing there, though, a powerful earthquake ripples around them, and most of the group is thrown from their feet. "Natural," remarks Priggle, examining the ceiling for structural instability. "I think."

A day after that, they pass through two deserted gatehouses and finally approach the gates of Mrid. No undead are anywhere to be seen. As Tao examines the battleground outside of the city, she looks up with a worried look. "It hasn't just been looted, this area has been cleaned! With brooms, and soap, and clean cantrips. There is some dust from that earthquake, but that's it."

"Why would they do that?" asks Mara, mystified.

"I don't know, but this area is almost spotless. You could eat off of it."

Priggle grimaces. "They did."

Velendo sniffs. "That's just strange. Say... does anyone else smell... rose petals?"