The Heroes of Red Larch: Entry 47

These events take place before Rise of the Obsidian Legion.

Lynch’s Journal
Entry #47

I dash into the far side corridor and make the left turn about fifteen foot in. Balasar’s roaring can only mean he stayed behind to finish the vermin off. Just at the end of my vision is see a narrow opening. Entering the doorway leads to two sharp turns then I come face to face with a dwarven statue. I realize this is beginning of the underground hideout.

I yell down the corridor with hopes that Lithia and Prince Amon can hear me. The echo of heavy boot steps from behind alert me that the copperborn and elf have finished off the monstrous rats. We walk out to the opening of what is left of Red Larch’s jail, stopping in our tracks as we come face to face with six hooded figures.

They are motionless, showing no intent to attack. I realize the half orc we were chasing is with them. Two of the figures are unlike any people I have ever seen. Their skins are shades of grey, it looks as if it is made of stone. A triangle symbol hangs from the opening of their hoods.

From the elf and myself come a dozens of questions.

Who are you?

What is this place?

Why did you pin the young boy?

Are you the Delvers? The Believers?

Are you causing the earthquakes?

Their faces lack any emotion as the questions continue. We get no answers.

To the right, just past the door, we see Muun and Frost approach. I try to give them a signal, some way to warn them. Right before he hits the doorway Amon notices the three of us ready to draw steel at a moment’s notice. Coming through the open doorway he sees the mysterious group, silent and fearless. They are caught off guard by our allies and the front three draw weapons. That is all Amon needed to know to draw his own.

Headstrong as usual, Prince Frost charges head on into the group of six. Screaming at him to stop, I brace myself and wait for the worst. He has no clue who these people are, what they are capable of and yet they have not even thought about attacking us.

As quick as lightning the back three draw bows, arrows trained on the prince. Even quicker, the front take him down before he can even swing his sword. Before he can even hit the ground Lithia launches a bolt of fire into one of them.

She is greeted by three arrows.

I launch myself in front of her, screaming once again but this time for everyone to stop. The intensity is thick in the air. Balasar’s knuckles crack loudly as he tightens the grip on his axe. Under the sound I can hear the elf shift his feet, preparing himself for all of the Nine Hells to break loose.

Stepping over Amon’s unconscious body, I plead for everyone to stop, that there is no need for this. With one hand out to halt any further action from the hooded figures I reach down to see if the young prince is still alive.

He is but just barely.

I move to pick him up and they show no intent to attack me. As I drag him back one of them speaks. He gives us a warning, that it would be in our best interested to stay away. What we have found is larger than we could imagine.

With that said they leave down the natural tunnel, disappearing into the darkness.

I turn back to the elf. His look
mirrors my own, clueless yet curious. Who were they? Why were they here? For now, maybe they are right.

Maybe we should leave them alone.

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