Journal #22 - The Doom of the Pit

I stood looking at the monstrous creature. It was gargantuan, clearly imbued with Alghadan energy. I took a second glance at our companions in the 891st and realized Buerig still lived, though just barely. His friend Craven had taken the brunt of the blow.
 
We had no choice but to run for it. There was a small tunnel on the far side of the room we didn’t think it could fit inside. Ghiravont healed Buerig, Esmerelda distracted the monster with help from Lug’s stone friend. The rest of us made our way out. As we did so, it bashed the floor, releasing toxic poison into the air.
 
At the end of the tunnel was an iron door, which I kicked down. Orlando carried Buerig. I peered into the room and was utterly surprised. It was a bar, packed with orcs, goblins, bugbears, and even some men. Toxic vents a few feet beyond their door, and they stood their drinking and playing cards.
 
The room went silent as they realized what happened. I thought to myself, these were either a rearguard of the Red Witch, or some sort of underground resistance. I thought a quick remark might illicit a response, so I bellowed “Fuck the Red Witch!” like a toast, and took a long draught of my healing potion.
 
One with an eyepatch turned and looked at me. He said something about “look what the Doom of the Pit dragged in,” and then told us to lay down our arms, and if not - he heavily implied a fight to the death, with the 20-some others all drawing their weapons. I still wasn’t sure which way this might go, so I decided to sheathe my axes instead of dropping them.
 
Domino decided to try to mind trick them into thinking she was Lady Duvall, it didn’t go well.
 
I asked why I shouldn’t go down fighting, and the eyepatch replied something about me being sorry for not fighting for the right cause. Then some of the others started talking about appraisal, like we were to be slaves. But then in the rear, I heard a Goliath say “Clan Volric will bring them for appraisal!.” after they fought amongst themselves a little. I knew that name, Clan Volric was one of the Goliath tribes of the Sunken Summits, sister to Clan Ohrim, the guardian clans of the Summits, the Storm Heralds of the primal Alghada – one of the few who can navigate the Alghada. That made up my mind – we needed these folks as allies, so it was worth the gamble.
 
I translated for the others, we needed to go with the Goliath. I laid down my weapons and was shoved towards the goblin with the eyepatch, whose name was Bograt.
 
The Goliath of Clan Volric wanted to know how many of us there were. All this time, Orlando had been invisible – Firefly had cast a spell on him before we entered the chamber. I answered honestly – our number, and one of us died to the beast. The way this was phrased, it didn’t look odd that our number was one less, he assumed it was the one who fell, but I had already taken Craven into account.
 
The eyepatch wouldn’t let us all go though - he wanted a tribute. Someone for him to deliver, or sell, to another place. Esmerelda volunteered. They lined us up and inspected us like meat. Bograt was looking to give tribute to Matron Zayana, seemingly a loyalist of the Red Witch (whom they all refer to as the Red Lady). While inspecting, he tore off Korrigash’s ear. He then chose Sunay; I tried to get him to rise to a duel, but he was a coward. Amber almost attacked him too, but Esmerelda stopped her, and offered herself - declaring her status as a captain of Nothric.
 
The room cleared out, leaving just us and the goliaths. We were ordered to be manacled, and I said I wouldn’t put them on. A woman in the group said we’d die crossing the leylines without them. I was unsure who she was, but Volric was one of the few who understood the mysteries of the Alghada, so I took her word for it. Later, we were introduced - the woman was Merrys, the daughter of the goliath who we first spoke to, who was himself Valos, Chieftain of Clan Vulrik.
 
The manacles were stone, and appeared magical – they were laced with electric sapphire ore like we saw on the descent, and there seemed to be jolts of current. I was loathe to put them on however, I quizzed the woman about if it protected us, why weren’t they wearing them. They put up with me but weren’t very forthcoming. They healed Korrigash, and told me I should keep my big opinions quiet; I mentioned the limited time we had to stop the ritual, and Valos responded that the Red Lady should not be mentioned.
 
Domino revealed her true appearance, and caused an uproar. Unbeknownst to me, she was apparently Mar’s lover before he died, which explains why she had his clan sigils tattooed on her. When the goliaths saw them, they demanded to know why she bore them. Ghiravont mentioned us being Mar’s friends, and I revealed that he was dead, who held his ring, and our reason for coming.
 
He said they would take us to Dhuraam. I recognized that name; I knew it was an unmarked location of a traveling tribe.
 
They seemed to be loyal to Mar, fire still burned in their hearts, they were like coals buried under ground. I will be the stone that starts an avalanche, I allowed myself to be bound.