RP:Station for a Sentinel
A Descending Tunnel, Vailkrin
Mac and Ralinde begin to explore the passage to the Underdark, ahead of the others.
The moment they pass the lip of this entrance to the Underdark’s great city, the pair are plunged into blackness so deep even the light of the paladin’s shield seems to pale and fade in its dread pall. They are met with profound silence, interrupted only by their own near-soundless steps and a constant dripping that proves to be mineral-heavy water falling from the tunnel’s jagged limestone teeth. Or at least, it would seem silent to anyone but a kraken.
Mac can hear, far below, surviving drow matriarchs shrieking commands to slaves who mutter amongst each other in low, menacing tones. The steady thud of soft-soled boots marching the streets, a window shattering, whips rising and falling on flesh and the cries of the slaves as knotted leather lashes their skin. It is not, however, the multitudinal cacophony one may expect from a bustling city. Whatever disaster wrought down there, it has all but emptied the place, which can only be in their own favour.
Then, someone… no, something… moves in the blackness ahead. Something with weight and muscle shifts, its belly slithering soft as fishskin leather, with claws sharp enough to whistle softly against stone as the thing creeps toward them from somewhere just beyond an oncoming bend in the now sharply-descending passage. Mac guesses the creature is maybe sixty yards ahead, accuracy foiled by the winding rock walls.
The lurking, eyeless beast was bred in far deeper tunnels than this one. Proximity to the surface, unfamiliar scents the cloying choke of too much oxygen here has it befuddled and irritable. A wave of barely audible clicks and pings might betray even to the paladin that whatever it is, it relies on sonar to navigate the dark.
As they stepped into deeper darkness the paladin asked Mac if he'd need a light. "My half-elven lineage gives me some sight in the dark, and my hearing is better than some. I can cast a light on things when I need to, even from a distance. So if there is something we need to see, the light not need be focused on us." Whether he wished for light or no, Ralinde would continue beside him. Vailkrin in some places did not pay her so much mind. The Underdark, however, did not welcome her kind. As the skittering thing approached them she felt its presence. Her fingers tensed. She was ready. The helmet betrayed no reaction.
The kraken merely nods to her question and presses a long forefinger against his lips. If this beast hunts by sonar in the dark, then it likely has poor eyesight but excellent hearing… the less sound they make from this point on, the better.
Whatever light the paladin provides reveals deep, fresh claw-marks in stone as if some creature— probably the one coming for them now— has tried to dig its way through the rock rather than enter the upper world. Desperate, thinks Mac. What could drive such an animal up from its den in the deepest roots of the land? The implications do not please him; Ralinde might note a fleeting look of chagrin cross the seaborn’s features as they carry on, ever downward.
Even the drow don’t have a name for this animal, and the sentient beings inhabiting the same deeps in the very basement of the world have never cared enough to give it one. Massive and hairless, it all but fills the tunnel with its bulk. Its claws are ivory cuirasses, its sightless head blunt. A snuffling, batlike nose. A knife-toothed maw, drool hanging in thick ropes from its pale, receded lips, widens to terrifying diameter as the beast emits another burst of sonic pulses, which this time bounce off more than unappetising stone. The merest hist of prey sends it crashing toward the duo, its thick body writhing caterpillarlike to help it gather speed on stumpy appendages.
Mac’s elderly coat might suffer a fresh new hole courtesy of Ralinde’s sword, as he throws the voluminous garment open and envelops the paladin under it, like a mother duck protecting its young. “We need to seem very large, Lady,” Mac urges, and spreads his other arm wide with a coat-corner grasped in his fist as if the kraken was trying to resemble a giant bat. “’Til we’re close enough that you can deliver a death-blow. In my pocket there’s kelp, use it to plug your ears..”
The kraken’s barely audible low-frequency tones are sensed by the beast across the rapidly closing distance between it and its intended meal. Its terrible mouth gapes to emit a deafening squeak designed to stun prey. Stepping in front of his companion momentarily, Mac takes the brunt of the blast. Reeling from this sonic assault, he drops his jaw and matches the attack with an identical shriek. Bits of rock and stalactite crumble down on them, but the creature has done a doubletake, shaken by Mac’s roar and deeply confused as to how ‘easy prey’ has suddenly become its equal, if not quite in size then certainly in sonic prowess.
Ralinde had drawn her sword and shield when Mac threw his coat over them. "Ah? F-fine," what a strange battle tactic. Practically had to shout over the ringing in her ears already. She dug into his pockets and roughly filled her ears with kelp, which likely wouldn't stay packed in long. "How long has it been in there?" Mac seemed stranger by the minute.
The paladin raised her shield high and drummed it with her sword to add the clangor. "I can protect against its shrieking. Allow me," his stepping in front of her was unbefitting her duties. In its moment of confusion, she dipped forward and slashed at its nose.
The creature shrills a cry of pain that threatens to have the whole tunnel fall on all of them. Rocks tumble loose, clanging off flesh and metal, thudding on Mac’s raised arms, while the beast whimpers, licks at the blood streaming from its wounded snout and beats a hasty backward retreat into the tunnel. Mac can still hear it crying even as it vanishes deep into a side-path. Only when even his hearing is unable to detect the beast, Mac turns to Ralinde, “Apologies, Lady,” he starts, then stops to indicate to the paladin with a series of gestures that she was now free to remove the wads of kelp from her ears. Mac may have some 'splaining to do here.
As rocks fell the paladin held up her shield and a dome of light cascaded over the pair. Ralinde watched the creature disappear into the depths with worry. Once she saw Mac gesturing, she unplugged her ears. "Yaknow, that would have been difficult to do if my armor and helmet were of a normal variety. Could have taken a bit to doff this thing!" She chuckled, but the concern never left her. "I hate to leave a wounded creature like that. It must be in terrible pain. Speaking of, are you hurt?" She had a suspicion that Mac was not the sort of thing you take out the bandages and alcohol for.
Mac shakes his head, swinging dreads shedding bits of cave debris. “Nothing to warrant thy efforts, Lady. “ He plucks a sharp bit of stone from the back of his hand, the small wound oozing blue as he scans Ralinde for injuries. “As for the beast, I dare say it is quite hardy, surviving in these conditions. “ He decides not to tell her that he suspects the monster was merely an infant, looking for its lost mother. “Its attributes suggest its origin lies far below. Something is driving the beasts of the deep caves upward. I believe that’s where we’ll presently find the corrupted one.” The kraken dusts off his coat, side-eyeing his companion, “It was to save thine ears from rupturing,” he says, “The kelp.” He winces slightly as he bends to brush the bottom of the coat with webbed fingers, his mid-section somewhat tender from absorbing the monster’s sonic attack.
There are no obvious wounds beneath Ralinde's armor. Her eyes were a bit unfocused, perhaps she hadn't set the moss in with such a hurry. As she donned her helmet again, it was curious how she'd doffed it so quickly. Or where she was keeping that crossbow from earlier. A few tricks up her sleeve, perhaps.
"I thank you for the kelp," she said. "Perhaps we can see where it came from, if that's a way lower." The elven Rangers had taught her a few things about what lay in the dark. Knowing thy enemy extended well into the drow territory indeed.
“If we are to go any deeper, at this point, Lady Ra…” “Mac has his mouth open, mid-reply to Ralinde, when he snaps his gaze back toward the entrance of the tunnel. “Aha!” The kraken grins, somewhat manically. “Forgive me, but lo, as if my very next words have sprung to life ere I even speak them…” he shakes his head, “… I was going to suggest that perhaps you could wait here, keeping the tunnel clear, while I go back to gather up a larger hunting party. For the Goddess alone knows what atrocities lurk in the city below, let alone its wilder places deeper still, and if they are indeed puppets of a powerful evil, then it is more than likely we need reinforcements. And indeed, I just this moment sensed one such, in the distance.. I will go to her, then seek the rest, and return forthwith. I do not doubt thy power to hold this passage, but if need becomes too great, only call for me and I will return with all haste.”
"No need for my pardon, Mac. Tis a sound suggestion. I shall fortify this position, and await your reinforcements. Rest assured, the passage shall be clear upon your return."
To some paladins, words carried more weight than gold. After all, they swore themselves to causes they drew power from. As Ralinde set about with her holy talismans she meant to ward the way with prayers and symbols. She would stand as a wall built of the very stone around them.
Part of the No Seaborn Left Behind Arc