Chapter Three - Part 4 - The Ruins of Dal Nystiere

As they approached the ruins of Dal Nystiere, the ancient, crumbling road passed by an old circle of standing stones. Webs clung to the branches of the nearby trees and a ramshackle covered wagon was parked on the trail near the standing stones.

While they walked, XIII said to Lirael, "I couldn't help but notice a strange discomfort you seemed to have amongst the elves, Lirael."

"Yes, well...I'd rather not talk about it now...later perhaps," Lirael answered him mysteriously. Just then Lirael abruptly halted and stopped the others from walking. "Wait!" He said in a hushed voice, "Look there."

He pointed up in one of the trees ahead where a few gigantic, hairy arachnid legs were visable. XIII immediately tensed up and gave a vicious hiss in the creature's direction. He clearly had a distaste for spiders.

"We can sneak up on it," Lirael said.

Rayne pointed out the wagon and decided he would go and check that out while they ambushed the Tree Spider. Upon looking inside he saw three sleeping Goblin Toadies. So he hastily pulled a torch from his bag and lit it before tossing it inside. The old, decrepit wagon almost immediately was immersed in flames, which woke the Goblin Toadies. But it was too late for them; they squealed in agony as they roasted to death.

XIII passionately summoned up the Flames of Phlegothos, engulfing the spider in Hellish fire. The spider fell from the tree, madly screeching and writhing in pain. Blisters and sores formed on its body, its hair completely singed off. Blood and puss oozed from its burns as it staggered to get up onto its gangly legs.  

Lirael gawked at the critical assault, "...You really hate spiders."

But before XIII had time to respond, Lirael ran forward, thrusting psionic energy into the mental pathways of a second spider that had begun to crawl its way down a tree not far from where they were. 

Rayne rushed away from the burning wagon and rammed himself into the smoldering arachnid with thunderous force, squashing it properly to death.

The other spider, perhaps out of revenge, leaped then from its tree at Lirael, biting him with its sharp pincers before it leaped back again out of harms way. XIII summoned yet another fiery attack, shooting a line of flame straight at the beast, causing it to also squeal in pain.

Lirael, unaffected by the safe distance that the spider took, forced his psychic assault on the spider, slamming it backwards onto its back. It writhed pitifully as it struggled to regain its bearings and stand. But Rayne ran up and yet again, slammed a finishing blow on the spider, giving off a horrible squishing, yet at the same time crunching, sound that marked the spider's unquestionable death.

XIII shivered disgustedly. He glanced at Lirael, not forgetting the conversation the spiders had so conveniently interrupted. He wondered what it was about the elves that made Lirael feel so uncomfortable.

"Let's get on with this then," Lirael said as he began walking towards the standing stones off to the side of the ruins. The others followed him to the pedestal in the center of the ring of stones, which seemed doubtful it how old and dusty it was.

But Rayne pulled out the vial of dragon's blood and opened it, giving it a curious sniff before he dripped some of the liquid onto the stone. Almost instantaneously as soon as the blood hit the stone, ancient Elven runes began to glow quite brightly on the stones surrounding them. 

Confidently, Rayne called out, "Dal Nystiere!" And the forest disappeared in a flash of blue light. The three found themselves standing upon a glowing magic circle inscribed on the floor of what appeared to be a wizard's laboratory or workshop. There were several large tables and desks littered with mildewed tomes, dusty bottles, and loose sheets of parchment. A wide staircase climbed about ten feet up to a stone loft, atop which rested a wooden desk and a chair made of lashed bones.

Near an iron-bound set of double doors stood two cages, each one holding a man-sized drake with crimson scales wearing a yoke. They snarled and bared their fangs, clearly ravenous. 

Several goblins were gathered in the room, and they stared at the random strangers with wide-eyed confusion. They glanced first at each other, then all of them looked up towards the one who appeared to be their leader, croaking something like, "Snilvor?" at him.

"Snilvor" spoke in a demanding voice to the goblin toadies scattered around the room from the stone staircase in the language of goblins, and suddenly the toadies turned on the three strangers and croaked out a hardly menacing battle roar.

Just then, Snilvor jumped off the staircase onto a small table just beside XIII. The small surface gave him enough height to be about as tall as XIII, whom he swung his skull-topped rod at. The skull merely made a humorous clunk sound as it collided with XIII's head. XIII merely laughed and in the blink of an eye, he whipped out his chain, ominously caked with dry blood in some places, and wrapped it around Snilvor's slimy green neck.

As he did so, one of the toadies ran over to the drake cages and set them free. Suddenly, the room erupted into chaos as the toadies all began attacking pathetically at once along with the bloodthirsty drakes. The drakes were the only ones that could really do any damage; they snapped at every nearest foe with their dagger-like teeth. 

Lirael feystepped to the staircase, from which he cast a dark and terrible thought into the nearest goblin toadie, whose eyes popped out of his head and he fell dead due to te shear mind-altering horror. It quickly spread like a mental plague from the first to the next, affecting even Snilvor and a nearby drake and finally obliterating another toadie's mind to death. 

Rayne attacked the drake that was targeting him, killing a few toadies on the side, as he swung his blade wildly with the strength of the earth which now surrounded him on all sides as they fought in the hidden underground study.

Meanwhile, Snilvor was still struggling against his bonds, but XIII relentlessly held him up by the chain around his neck. Between that and the ravening thought plaguing his mind, it seemed all the vessels in his head burst and blood began to spew from random wounds in his head. Suddenly, one of the drakes caught a whiff of the scent of blood and charged over immediately to gorge on whatever it was that was emitting it. XIII never relinquished his hold on the goblin, even as the drake viciously devoured him.

But eventually he gave in with a tender heart and laid the carcass down on the floor for the drake to feast upon while he went to help the others in finishing off the last of the goblins. His cheshire eye bite bit the life out of the nearest toadie and he grinned with satisfaction. 

Finally, they focused on the mad starving drake, which attacked them relentlessly, biting whoever it could get near. Lirael ran and took a flip off the the side of the staircase while simultaneously pulling out his sickle and slashing at the throat of the last goblin toadie remaining, who fell to the floor lifelessly. He then forced his way into the drake's simple mind and ripped out all images of himself, causing the drake to stagger in mental pain.

The others continued their assault on the drake with little luck as the drake was absolutely berserk. Lirael tore yet another memory hole in the drake's mind, leaving Rayne with an opportunity to strike with the strength of stone. As it recovered slightly from the blow, the drake charged at XIII who had been attempting to move to a more safe position. But in the nick of time, Rayne leaped into the air, slamming his blade down with full force, severing the drake's head from its body before it was able to reach XIII.

They looked around the room at the bloodshed. The other drake was lying peacefully beside the carcass of the goblin emissary, which was now little more than bone. XIII walked up to it and knelt by its side, patting its head lightly. The drake opened its eyes, calm and pleased by its full stomach, and gave XIII a grateful lick, its jaws still dripping with blood and guts.

I won't make the same mistake again, XIII thought, remembering his fallen love.

"I shall call you Grognarc," He informed the drake, "And I will take care of you from now on."