They lost three warriors over the next hundred or so miles. A sandhole emerged from nothing as an air pocket burst, seizing a screaming gnoll into an instant grave. They all stopped for an hour and dug, but could not find the body. Two orcs died when they were doing a flank sweep and woke up a sleeping demonic snake-thing. Its venom turned flesh black and dead instantly, and if Orphan hadn’t distracted it, they would not have been able to kill the thing. While its fangs scored his body twice, its poison meant nothing to him.
They were now trackers, warriors, two adepts, a monk, and a gnome.
Nebly proved himself useful by entertaining the troops and consulting on old stones with odd designs. With his odd bits of knowledge, Orphan’s headband, and Delegado’s tracking, they found a small ravine in the Wastes, barely big enough for three horses, but large enough to conceal a brass door so weathered it seemed like part of the landscape almost.
Delegado was pleased with Nebly, given how the gnome’s tips and bits of trivia helped find the place.
Orphan found himself feeling jealous.
They forced the door open by brute force, and with a sunrod for the monk, headed into the darkness.
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