Being the Sixth Letter Home
General Summary
What a journey!
Mother, we had only just left the city when the expedition began to get interesting. Extremely interesting!
The Lightkeepers booked us passage on a small ship sailing out from the city. We would take it as far as we could, and then climb up through the tunnels to the surface. That was the plan.
Being understandably paranoid, as we traveled with drug peddling fugitives and had only just infuriated a local drug lord, I lit to the "sky" to have a look around as soon as we embarked. The captain took immediate note and hired me on the spot to be our lookout. I little added currency is always welcome, so scout I did!
This underground lake is so vast as to be rightly called a sea. You can barely see the edges, and the cavernous ceilings bring the illusion of sky. The ever-present phosphorescence deepens the illusion.
Our first encounter came soon into the journey, with a huge javelin suddenly appearing, embedding into the deck with a crash!
I immediately alighted, rising as high as I could, as the deck hands quickly erected barriers of darkness around us (a very neat trick).
They had clearly dealt with similar situations and were appropriately prepared.
I scanned in the direction from which the lance arrived, and quickly found the culprits: two huge giants wielding ballista as if they were crossbows!
They continued to launch their bolts our way, guessing where our ship must be in the shroud surrounding us. I worried that they might land another shot, perhaps nailing one of our crew. So I carefully drew down. They were just within my easy range, so I picked my target carefully, hoping to dissuade them from similar action in the future; I nailed one of the giants squarely in the eye!
He screamed in pain, newly become a cyclops.
His brother turned and, finding me hovering above the darkness where the ship used to be, launched a javelin my way. Such a huge missile was easily dodged, but the thought of being impaled by such a weapon gave me good reason to quickly seek the refuge of the obscured vessel.
And on we sailed.
The voyage remained casual, with us the guests of the captain for meals, and spending time with the crew. Some of them gambled, but I was often employed to scout ahead. Several times the mere sight of me above the ship was enough to convince prospective raiders that another boat was perhaps an easier mark.
At that point I spied something quite beautiful: lava flowing gracefully into the small sea from the side of the cavern, steam rising like clouds climbing the cliffs on a sun-lit morn. I pointed it out to the captain and crew, and he asked me to investigate, as it seemed a likely spot to be waylayed due to the narrowing of the course.
Such a waste of true beauty and power! To use it as cover for brigandry. But I did my duty and flew over closer.
At which point I noticed that some of the lava...bumps...were not...how do I say...they weren't flowing. The lava around them moved inexorably to the sea, slowly to be sure, but moving nonetheless. These bumps did not.
I stopped.
Hovered for a second.
Then cautiously flew closer for a better look.
One of them looked back.
I paused, not knowing their intention.
They did not pause, as at least a dozen of the bumps leapt into the air and began closing with me quite rapidly!
Their intentions known, I turned and darted for the ship. I was out of range of our archers, but the strange creatures were within range of me.
They didn't use any ranged weapons, so as I rushed away from them, I rained arrow after arrow upon the closest.
After several expert shots, the creature screeched, clutching its chest, and fell to the water, sending up a plume of steam.
The creatures seemed to be the lava itself; flaming, fiery furies. Bits of it dropped from them as they flew. They were as fire incarnate.
With tempers to match.
As I got closer to the boat I realized: the boat is made of wood. The greatest fear of any mariner is fire.
I could not let these monsters reach the ship. I would not.
They chased me with a singular rage, and I used that to draw them in the range of our crew. They seemed undeterred, perhaps unaware of their mistake. As they closed with us they came under withering fire from our archers and the ballista mounted to the prow of the ship. They began dropping to the sea, one by one.
But still so many came! They seemed to gain in number even as we felled them!
I stopped just short of our boat, keeping them off the port bow. At such a range even our short bows could reach them with accuracy.
That's when things got bad.
As soon as they closed with me, beating my wings furiously to hover, dodge, and battle, they launched a most unexpected attack: they vomited fire. As if small red dragons.
While this posed little threat to me, as I could see their fiery faces scrunch a little just before they spewed, and thus both anticipate and dodge the oncoming deluge, the ship could not. The fire that missed me fell upon the ship behind me...and also upon some of the unluckiest of the crew.
I was too close to the boat.
A few broke from me to attack the boat directly, and as one of them died it plummeted to the deck, igniting one of many fires. The crew not launching missiles desperately put out fires.
Our ballista was a fast casualty, as was its gunner. The poor man never saw the lava that rained down from behind him.
He sure felt it, though.
I was being surrounded. And every time I dodged a batch of hellish hacking vomit, the ship was pelted with sticky fire. I had to move farther out.
But I was surrounded, and taking wounds. One of the beasts clawed a huge gash in my side as I dodged his compatriot's sickening spew, and I faltered. Not only would I not be able to move farther away, I might not even be able to stay here.
That's when the hobgoblin, Baermak is his name, saved my life. He hung off the side of the boat, reaching across over the roiling sea, to lay his hand upon me and reinvigorate my fight!
I hacked the lava creature in the middle and made what might have been my final decision: I swooped into the gap he left upon his descent into the water. This put me not only farther away from the ship, but also kept the ship out of the line of fiery belches.
I was now completely surrounded, with no way out. No recourse.
Too far from the boat for Baermak, or anybody else, to help. If I went down, I stayed.
I only hoped that my friends would see my move and quickly dispatch those devils around me. I would, of course, do my best to help.
That's when I discovered that one of them was a magic-user.
And I fell asleep.
So, everything was chaotic after that. I fell, of course. I hit the water.
I awoke, and the granddaughter was in the water with me.
"Even gods cannot take wing from water."
So we swam to the boat and climbed back aboard. It seemed the fight was won, except for a battle below decks. One of them had gotten down there, and the granddaughter ran to join. Noting the approximate location, I decided that I could perhaps jump in from the rear, so, shaking my wings dry, I dove over the edge to come at him from behind.
But the battle was over, the final beast vanquished.
The only thing...that old man...one of the crew was lying on the deck, struck in battle. Alive, but very clearly shaken. The granddaughter knelt next to him (he was one of her gambling partners/marks) and the old man looked down at him, strangely. Very strangely. I couldn't peg the expression, exactly, as these faces are so hard to decipher. Without feathers to shift, how can you tell? Was he regretful? Guilty? But of what? Why? Is this yet another bit of his past coming into our future? Was this man a former smuggler? Client?
I shook my head slowly and headed back above deck.
The rest of the journey is boring until the trolls.
We had resupplied and were heading, finally, at long last, to the surface! But before we got there we came upon a sad party of merchants, all of whom had met their ends at the hands of some trolls not moments before we stumbled upon the scene.
Trolls are big.
You read about them and see paintings, but, really. You imagine the encounters were slightly exaggerated to the benefit of the tale's teller.
But no.
Trolls are big. They occupied the entirety of the tunnel, crouching to fit inside.
As we engaged them, something tickled the back of my mind. I had to concentrate on the battle, but at the same time I knew it was important. And then I remembered.
Trolls regenerate.
But how to stop it?
We dropped one of the trolls, a pincushion for my arrows. I don't know how to stop regeneration, but I imagine that separating the head from the body certainly can't help. So I knelt over the fallen troll and began to hack.
I apologize for the detail, which may seem needless to you, but it is not. Because as I was sawing away at the huge, thick neck, trying to quickly decapitate the monster, his eyes opened!
Startled, I paused.
And that was nearly my undoing.
His huge claws scraped a chunk of flesh from my shoulder as I tried to back away. But I was too close, kneeling over him, and could not evade him. And he was rightly enraged.
I was light-headed and quickly backed away, out of range of those reaching arms. I let the rest of the party put him back down.
And then I had an idea:
Fire.
Fire!
I grabbed one of my newly acquired magical flaming arrows and lodged it in the chest of the 2nd troll, causing it to howl in agony.
"Fire!" I shouted, "They regenerate!"
And now I know how to stop regeneration. I hope I never need that knowledge again.
On the good side, the poor merchants were hauling a vast store of fresh fish and fruits! We feasted!
It was by far the best meal I've had since being taken into custody by those cursed Sylvans.
And just like that we were free.
Up.
Above ground!
The sky, oh the sky! I could smell the sea, the real sea! The warm, humid air made my soul soar.
I straightened my back, face to the sky, stretched, spread my wings, and...
Report Date
30 Jan 2022