A Twisted Rescue Mission

All of us awoke this morning after warm beams of morning sunlight punctured through our tent walls. Wait, all of us? When we stepped outside, the huge shape of a dragonborn was curled around the last remaining ashes of a burned-out campfire, snoring like a child. Nysqwen actually had managed to fall asleep without waking any of us to take over the next shift! Thankfully, no harm had come from it, yet Grum, Kyla, Archie and I agreed that this degree of culpable negligence must bring some consequences for our friend. We poured an entire waterskin over her face, sardonically musing the day would be far to beautiful to just be slept upon. Within the blink of an eye, the initial expression of rage upon such a rude awakening turned into a conscious-stricken, embarrassed face as realisation struck her. Her sad eyes could kindle one’s pity, were it not such a funny sight to see our badass barbarian helplessly begging for forgiveness for her mistake. I am certain, this won’t have been the last time, we will taunt her with that bit.
 
But there was not much time, nor a secure enough feeling to fool around for long, thus we broke camp only half an hour later after a brief breakfast and set out towards our destination. With every step I could feel how Grum grew more excited and anxious for his friend and felt a similar notion creep up inside me. When we came within sight of the castle walls, we realised we were facing the south western corner of Cragmaw castle. The keep originally had been built by a human wizard from Phalorm a few hundred years ago, but only ruins remained of the once proud stronghold. It consisted of seven layered towers, granting a view upon all surrounding lands in their prime. Now, only the base level seemed to be still standing and it was doubtful, that even half of this area still was in habitable condition.
Following the intel we obtained from our last captive, we used the forest to our advantage to circle north and then east to get to the secret entrance into the castle. Passing by the former west gate, only an open hole loomed where once proud wooden valves barred entrance. All around the castle were arrow slits ten to fifteen feet above the ground, hinting at an elevated floor level inside. On the north side of the keep, huge heaps of stone fragments littered the ground where some of the towers obviously had collapsed. We still kept our distance, searching for any sign of movement or other life within the castle. But from our vantage point, with the instructions we had been given, we could see a cloth patch covering an opening between two massive boulders. The secret entry was no secret to us anymore. But we still had to figure out a plan of how to deal with a manor potentially filled to the brim with goblins and perhaps worse. Anataea’s favourite lesson rung in my head: “Knowledge is power. Knowledge is key. Remember that, Morthos!”
Yet none of us had any experience in infiltration or anything similar. The only idea we could come up with was to repeat the strategy we used on Hamun Kost. Grum offered, to transform himself into a small spider, climb up to one of the crenels and peer into some of the castle’s rooms to get a feeling for what was expecting us. To get him to the wall faster than his spider legs would carry him, I offered to carry the small creature to the wall, as I seemed to do the best in sneaking through the forest. The lone hours in my more dubious past have paid some dividends at last. A word and a blow, a few moments later, I was on my way towards the wall of the tower in the north eastern corner of the castle, a small spider carefully held in the palm of my hand. I made sure to keep to the shadows and probe every step before I took it, just as I had learned all those years ago. We reached the wall without any perceivable motion nor sound from the inside of our destination. I reached up as far as I could and let Grum begin his climb up. I saw a small black dot vanish in the crenel, then there was silence.
I thought I heard low voices talking to each other, a beautiful female one, matched with a low growl, yet it was to faint to be sure, even less make out any words. And then it happened. A sudden noise like a heavy club hitting the stone wall, followed by the howl of a wolf, a surprised shout that sounded an awful lot like Skarg and a painful cry that I knew to be Grum’s voice, which abruptly stopped.
[Note of the author to himself: maybe When I get to this point, I should pause in my tale to relish this moment of excitement. May it be enough to kill some of the audience with the built-up suspense? Maybe it is too harsh an idea. Almost like pushing someone to the edge of a steep cliff and leave him dangling there. Hmm, I might be on to something… I could name it “cliffhanger” and say “well fellows, that’s it for now, the story may continue on the morrow.”… But maybe this concept is too wild. I must think about it!]
 
I stared up at the crenel, blood running through me cold as ice. Had I just lost my trusted friend? Before I could think about anything to do next, a snake wound itself out the opening, suddenly propelled outside and changing into Grum’s shape while falling. I tried my best to catch him yet crumbled under the mass of my friend. We tumbled to the ground, sprang upright and sprinted towards the forest line as fast as possible. Only within the deceptive safety of the trees we allowed ourselves to slow down and catch our breath. The dwarf’s face was disfigured by long claw marks, running from temple to chin and hobbled somewhat on his left leg, yet he seemed otherwise unharmed. I did my best to sustain his weight to alleviate the damaged limb, while we caught up with the others. Kyla’s worried face upon seeing his condition was a heart-warming sight, markings of her well-meaning, although at times rough, spirit. She bowed over Grum, absorbed in some prayer. When she straightened herself, the leg found its strength again and the markings on his face faded to mere faint red streaks.
Grum told us, he had seen an unconscious Gundren lying on the floor of the chamber, while a drow and a bugbear were haggling over the price of a map, the latter had acquired from the captive. The female called her collocutor “King Grol”, identifying him as the ominous goblin king, we had heard about. The dark elf was bound to bring map and captive to the black spider. Grum described her as having skin of a dark violet complexity, white, braided hair and wearing a light leather armour, yet lacking other significant features. Kyla did not recognise her as on of the two drows, she had seen in her vision. He was about to leave his hiding spot, when a huge dire wolf, laying in a corner of the chamber, suddenly jumped for the small spider, driven by some animalic instinct. He crushed the spider beneath his paw, which resulted in Grum returning to his own form and exposing him jammed in the small arrow slit. Before the drow or King Grol could reach him however, he sidled out of the wall as a snake, only to be hit once more by the wolf. Then he came crushing down upon me.
While we were still discussing, sudden movement at the secret entrance caught our attention. A goblin came out, scanned the parameter and quickly rushed back inside. A goblin, we did not see for the first time. How Droop had managed to get back to Cragmaw castle without being eaten alive on the way, I cannot fathom. Yet he looked a lot less hard-pressed, since last we saw him in the red-band hideout. Whether he would recognize the debt he owed to us was questionable, but if there was the slightest chance to get him on our side, it might be worth taking. Nonetheless, to spare one more life! Grum still was understandably exhausted from his adventure in the crenel and my spine felt a little compressed from a dwarf falling more on my head then into my arms. Thus, we decided, to take watch in the north western and south western corner of the castle, one group consisting of Nysqwen and Archie, the other of Kyla, Grum and myself. We circled back the way we came earlier, leaving human and dragonborn on the northern vantage point. As we drew close to our position, a goblin guard must have seen us from one of the windows in the respective tower, for I was hit by an arrow straight through the leg. The pain was excruciating, I bit my teeth together to stop myself from screaming and giving away even more of our position, as we sneaked deeper into the brush and into cover. There we waited. Kyla, blessings upon her, helped me to withdraw the arrow shaft and we finally got some rest. We scanned the castle and the emerging paths, yet everything stayed quiet. Too quiet. After having someone appear in your window, changing shape twice, leaping out and running into the forest, one would expect the whole castle in utter upheaval, but the opposite was the case. A dead silence hung over the place, which was even more frightening than the just described scenario, for it told us next to nothing about its inhabitants.
 
When we felt rested enough, we went back to meet up with our friends. We discussed how we wanted to proceed about Gundren. We had squandered our surprise element and found ourselves not as well rested or equipped, as we would have liked to be. I came up with the idea, to use the opportunity of the drow transporting Gundren to the black spider, to ambush her and any potential guarding troops, but the argument, she might be able to simply teleport with her prize to her master gave pause to that idea. We saw ourselves with no other option, than to act as quickly as possible and get Gundren out of the castle, while we still knew where he was.
And so, we made our way once more to the north side of Cragmaw castle, anxiety rising with every step, yet filled with determination. We had left our friend in the claws of his captors for far too long and finally had confirmation that he still lived. It was the least we could do, to now go all in on this dangerous mission. As we approached the entrance, I offered to sneak ahead to scout what we might be dealing with inside. I had noticed in our advance through the forest that especially Nysqwen and Archie had some troubles in breaking through tight spaces and underbrush, who could blame them with such heavy armour? But it would be no good to throw away what little surprise still might be working for us.
 
I approached the castle slowly, skirting from rock to rock, trying to keep an eye on every crenel and window overlooking this side of the premise. Arriving at the entrance, I slid in behind the cloth, letting as little light as possible fall in behind me and found myself in a small storage room, boxes and crates stuffed in at all sides. To my left, a door exited the room, while ahead of me, a corridor led deeper into the castle. And within the drawn back curtain of said corridor stood Droop. He saw me instantly, there was no way to escape eyes directly fixed on the very opening I just came through. Ere I could react, he shouted something in the cackling goblin tongue and ran from me. Holding back a curse, I sent him straight to the Lady of Dreams, knowing full well that it was too late. I gestured my comrades to follow into the keep and rushed toward the lumped body, dragging him back into the small room to bind and gag him.
No sooner did they arrive, than a sound emanated from the very corridor, Droop just tried to escape through. Something awkward between a bird’s cry and a bear’s growl heralded the approaching owlbear. The tracks we had seen on the game trail yesterday already made me fear such an encounter, somehow Grol must have gotten hold of the beast. Heroically as ever, Nysqwen stepped right up in its twisted face, landing a deep blow to its front leg. Grum quickly ran to her aide, his shape once more morphing into the ferocious form of a huge bear, while Kyla, Archie and I held back to not get in the way of their attacks. Heartbeats later, three Hobgoblins breached through the door to fall in our backs. I quickly disposed of one with a formidable rapier puncture in his throat, Kyla took care of a second one while the third trained his arrows upon us. Archie sent his mechanical companion to help with the owlbear, while the young lad himself aimed for the newcomer. The fight did not last long and left only minor wounds on us. Kyla’s addition to our party was a valuable support in dealing with our foes and the rest of us was more and more getting their sea-legs, as Nysqwen would put it. The prospect of finally freeing Gundren fuelled our efforts to new hights. The final hobgoblin however, escaped through the same door he entered and sprinted into the room Grum had seen previously in his spider shape.
 
If anyone in the castle had not taken notice of us before, after this first encounter that was definitely impossible. We lost no time and followed the goblinoid through the door, after checking on Droop, who fell unconscious upon facing Nysqwen. Before we could chase the hobgoblin into King Grol’s chamber, it’s door opened the moment we entered the connecting corridor and the beat-up figure of a dwarf tumbled through, crying for help. Grum immediately rushed forward to cover his friend from any pursuers, closely followed by Nysqwen. Through the open door, two hobgoblins were visible, accompanying the bugbear we knew to be King Grol. Grum, Nysqwen and Kyla rushed through the door to face the captors of the dwarf who finally was back under our protection. Archie sent Ori with them and bravely moved to bar the door to the storage room to defend our backs if need be. As I moved closer to see through the door, I did not believe my own eyes at first. At the north end of the room, the hobgoblin who just escaped from our last encounter was standing, his knife pressed against the throat of – Gundren! King Grol chuckled and warned us to drop our weapons, else his subordinate would end Gundren’s life.
Suddenly Archie shouted behind me, and I saw whom we had believed to be Gundren with two knifes flashing in the direction of the dear lad. At last, the copper piece dropped. As there was no sign of the drow anywhere to be seen, there was only one explanation to this twist. Luckily, what was a hinderance when sneaking through underbrush, the armour, Archie carried on his body made up for in protection. And Nysqwen was far from giving up, as she threw one of her axes for the fiend holding Gundren. The flow of time slowed down to a thick syrup, as everyone seemed to watch the weapon whirl through the air, straight for the head of the hobgoblin – who took a quick step aside, escaping the axe and drawing his own blade upon Gundren’s throat in the same fluid motion. The dwarf dropped to the ground.
Then everything happened at once. Kyla grasped the situation immediately, clasping her necklace and staring upon the dying dwarf with full concentration. Nysqwen and Grum did not hold back any longer and attacked the enemies, who were joined now by the huge dire wolf, Grum had already be acquainted with. I sent as many of the goblinoids to sleep as possible yet could no longer witness if that was crowned by any success, as I already turned to defend our youngest companion against the fake Gundren. I heard a gurgling sound from Kyla behind me and could only hope that our other friends could help her out while we tried to keep the supposed drow in check. Soon, I managed to draw her attacks away from Archie and saw myself hard pressed with her whirling daggers. They seemed to be everywhere at once, cutting, slicing and stabbing. I felt my arms and legs hit by several blows. Then a stabbing pain in my lungs. Then nothing.
 
When I came to myself again, I saw Grum’s worried face hovering over mine, heard Archie shouting someone was escaping and felt the radiant heat of a small flame close by. My old friend had saved my life from what should have been a fatal blow. Never in my life have I felt such gratitude towards anyone. There may still have been enemies abound, for all I knew, yet he cared for me first, while Kyla, Nysqwen and Archie gave him the protection to do so. The bond, all of us are knitting will be stronger than any iron chain or magical weave that there is in this world. For true friendship can never be shattered, no matter what it is facing.
Yet I knew I had to get up, and quick, we still had to bring Gundren to safety, if Kyla had accomplished what she seemed to intend. And Archie just rushed around the next corner, following the escaping drow as it sounded like. I quickly got to my feet, with surprising ease for someone whose lungs just had been ruptured and hasted after Archie. I saw him facing the fake dwarf, he just had caught up with and searched for some final reserves of arcane energy within myself. I knew of nothing better, than to let this creature fall into a fir of hideous laughter, which was enough to bring it to the ground, where Archie stabbed it again and again with his staff, making a bloody mess of the figures torso. The poor boy had suffered such hardship within the last few weeks and now saw two of his friends nearly killed. This seemed to have been too much for him. His stabbing could only be stopped by Nysqwen, who laid her large claw gently on the lad’s shoulder and took him in her arms. And before our very eyes, the shape of the dwarven corpse contorted into a strange, featureless humanoid with dark skin, no hair and an extremely flat nose. I heard about such shape changers back in Neverwinter, but only as part of horror stories, Anataea used to scare me with as a child. I had never knowingly met one before.
From King Grol’s former chamber suddenly a deep voice shouted for help. Gundren was trying to pull the corpse of the dead bugbear from a table that caught fire somewhen throughout the fight and shouted, we had to secure the map. Snuffing small fires was something I had learned early on, quickly we searched the former king yet found nothing on his body. After a very thorough inspection of the chamber, we finally found the parchment tucked into a slid at the underside of a small mattress, carelessly placed in one corner of the room. A further search through the eastern wing of the castle led us find the small cell, the owlbear must have been imprisoned in.
Back in the storage room, we came just in time to see Droop trying to escape robbing like a caterpillar towards the exit. At this sight, I felt hell break loose inside of me. I cannot remember a time at which I was engulfed in such burning rage and hate as in this moment. All teachings, Anataea had bestowed upon me, always had the same core of focus, self-control and mind over body. There is a shadowed memory of her worried face after I awakened from a fever dream in which I had beaten a boy to a bloody pulp after he bullied me, yet this was only a dream. Now I was only filled by the burning desire to kill that small vermin, for all the suffering his kind had provided for Gundren and in the last hour, for our company. It was Kyla, who came up to me to still my hand, as we should first ask this creature for anything, he might be able to tell us about other goblins or even the black spider. Slowly, like lifting an iron curtain, the burning hate subsided.
Now we are assembled in the former makeshift throne room of the goblin king, licking our wounds and resting. I am relieved, none of us got killed today, close as it was for both Kyla and myself. And it is hard to fathom, that we finally freed Gundren. I am secluded now, in a small chamber that may once have served as a bathroom, the others are in the main room. What was taking over back then? Now I cannot fathom harming our captive. He is helpless, probably scared out of his mind and the poor fool was probably just following orders. What made me loose control in such a way? When Kyla calmed me down, I had seen in her eyes an expression, I hoped to never see within my friends. A fear, mixed with uncertainty and otherwise often paired with disgust, when humans crossed paths with one of my kind. I never want to experience this again. Why are we so cursed? What have you done to us, Asmodeus?