Seventh Entry

I spent some time resting and recuperating whilst my companions wreaked havoc around Imperial Ward. Ultimately they decided to return to the Orc cavern where the Spheres of Ultimate Evil remained.

Today I find myself peering through a keyhole in the Orc cavern. I am looking at a couple of lousy, good-for-nothing Orcs.

Our fighters burst into the chamber and are alarmed to see that two more of the foul creatures were hidden out of sight. Bingle takes the two on the left. As he attacks, I linger in the rear looking for opportunities for a surprise strike. Soon I am able to sneak up behind one of the monsters, and before you can say “shiv”, I am pulling his heart out through his back.

Bingle slips on the blood and entrails of my victim, and falls to the ground, leaving me face to face with the enemy. Bravely, I turn and flee, as does my foe, after being nicked by a thrown dagger from Sidonia across the room. Now out of immediate danger, I fling a dagger at the fleeing Orc, lodging it solidly in the armour covering his back. As the other Orcs have been felled, we all give chase. Using my speed, I leap onto the dagger lodged in the fleeing Orc’s back, and twist the knife, finishing him.

Silence fills the room as we catch our breath. I turn to my compatriots, wiping my blade, and mouth the words they’ve been longing to hear. “I’m back.”

Then two more Orcs careen through the entryway – I hide behind bodies and straw bedding as my group dispatches them.

We continue exploring the dormitory area of the cavern, finding bedding rats, dead Orcs, sparky arrows, and the familiar kitchen, where Elf stew dominates the menu offerings. Orcish chefs with meat cleavers are able to run away for a surprisingly long time while Sidonia and I flail at the air and attempt to trip them. Finally I am able to catch and kill one, leaping over its body with the momentum carrying me. The other succumbs soon after.

Further exploration leads us back to the elf abattoir, its memory still fresh in my mind. Not as fresh, it seems, as one of the elven carcasses hanging therein. It is Silverleaf, hanging upside down but still alive alongside his gutted compatriots. After resuscitation, he gratefully joins our party and confides rumours of large Orc fortresses closer to the mountains, built into the rock with caverns behind, and Orcs receiving “special” training. Silverleaf’s female associates, Cassandra and Philhemena are found soon after and are willing to disclose to me that they overheard the Orcs speak of having recruited a Cave Troll.

Returning to the altar room, Bingle decides to pull the previously unpulled lever, which allows the altar to pivot revealing a hidden alcove below, a small chest therein contained. Undeterred neither by the prospect, nor by the reality, of poisonous darts, Bingle removes the chest. I search for traps, and finding none, pick the lock. Inside we find valuable treasures: 4 Potions of Healing, and a Scroll of Invisibility. I take a potion and put it in my backpack. Another scroll indicates the location of the rumoured Orcish fortress near the mountains! Philhemena volunteers that these Orcs have been “storing the Spheres (of Ultimate Evil) for use in some sort of attack”.

Back in the well room (and almost having completed our map of these dread caverns), we decide to take a brief look down the well. Being a little thirsty, I volunteer for the bucket ride down, and ultimately decide to strip down for a refreshing dip beneath the surface. We quench our thirsts with the fresh water, which seems to come from an underground stream. Dagger between my teeth, I take a deep breath and explore upstream and down. Lungs bursting, I break the surface and find an air pocket with a ledge and narrow passage. After some consultation back at the top, I explore further and make a surprising discovery. A long dead elf, in rotting leather, seems to have found his way down here by means unknown. Was he an explorer like me? Was he thrown down the well? Was he attempting an escape? How did he meet his end? One possible answer presents itself, but not before I relieve the poor dead soul of his bejeweled headband, 20 gold pieces, and an exceptional dagger which, judging from its condition, must carry magical qualities. Suddenly, thousands of speedy spiders begin to pour from cracks in the end wall. I bolt back down the passage and dive into the lifesaving fluid, swimming back through the underground caverns to breathlessly tell my tale on the other end.

Now almost out of this foul-smelling Orc hole, we hear Orcs arriving at the front gate. Finding it locked with no guard nearby, they indicate their intention to come in through the secret entrance. Not one to avoid an ambush, I await the unsuspecting Orcs with my party in the Chieftain’s bedroom. Thinking that the bed itself might make a good hiding spot, I cower under the covers as the Orcs stream in. Bedwetting is induced when I hear an Orcish voice growl “Hey Chief, there’s somebody in your bed!” I roll out of bed as the battle royale ensues.

The battle does not go particularly well, for either side. Cassandra falls in battle, as does just about everybody else (Bingle several times). I backstab one Orc with my new magical dagger, but end up immediately facing another foe, and am struck twice. Only by pure luck is the second blow not fatal. I leap out of the fray. Some of our party lay dying on the floor. Orcs still stand, including the powerful-looking leader. Things look too grim. It is time to pull out the heavy artillery.

Focusing on the chieftain, I phrase the incantation: “Weary foes – have a doze”. The chieftain and other Orcs fall silent to the ground, mouths agape. Those that remain standing are finished off by our party, as I slit the throats of the sleeping Orcs where they lay.

The battle over, we survey the damage. It does not look good. We agree that our work here is done, and that it is time to retreat for rest recuperation, and, in my case, for training in the thieving arts back in Imperial Ward. After a week at the Thieves Guild, I am no longer a mere rogue, my skills are developed such that I can be called footpad. I still have a long way to go, but it is a start.

While in Imperial Ward, I discovered that all charges had been dropped against Theodore. There were rumours of a political struggle inside the Emperor's cabal and that the infighting was getting worse. No one thought that this infighting would do the war effort much good. Also, I heard that Theodore had dispatched Chai Khan (Master of Chaos) on some quest. Something about hunting down an enemy... I am unsure what to make of that, but I am hopeful that our dwarf is not the only enemy Theodore’s thoughts are focused upon.

Fully healed, I rejoin my party still licking their wounds and we begin our journey across the plains of Kurach toward the rumoured Orc mountain fortress.

It was a relatively uneventful trip – except, that is, for the night when a roving band of ten Orcs (part of the Flaming Brand) sent its scout too close to our camp. Not on my watch, fortunately. I awoke to the sound of a groan from the bush, and crept over with Philhemena to find Bingle and Trax standing in the bush over a crumpled Orc. Silently following his trail backward, I discovered the band over a hillcrest. Ultimately, of course, we were duty bound to slay them. Our party surrounded them and launched a multi-pronged attack including crossbows, screaming swordsmen, and magic missiles. And I did make an effort, once the Orcs were engaged in melee, emerging from the tall grass to fell one Orc with a surprise backstab. The new dagger was sharp and true. But when the massive Orc squad leader beside my victim turned on me swinging a scimitar AND a dagger simultaneously, missing narrowly with both weapons, my natural instinct for self-preservation had me leaping back into the bushes. Yes, there may have been one or two more chances for me to help out – and I might have – if a sure thing had presented itself. But, let’s face it – when there is heavy lifting to be done – that’s what dwarves are for.