Chapter 12: The Cave Terror

The normalcy of the bustling city caught Ballan off-guard as they navigated to the Mason's District. A quarry of white stone dominated the northern portion of the city - the same white stone that had built the edifices surrounding it. Though the quarry had largely been tapped, the robust culture and wealth it generated remained. Now, it was a cultural district of sorts - the surroundings of the quarry made for excellent acoustics, and so the Whitestone Theater had been erected outdoors. Ballan had never had the time - or the money - for the theater. In his infrequent visits to the city he rarely had occasion to come here.

It was a good thing that Tilda seemed to know where she was going.

The city was so crowded that their motley crew hardly stood out. Normally, with Tilda in the lead, it would be difficult to get anywhere through the mob. Luckily, Holgith and Krakkus following closely behind her gave passersby ample reason to make way. While Ballan mostly kept his head down and tried to navigate behind the two burly men, Kahya was uniquely distracted. This did not slow her down at all, of course, but Ballan shortly found himself fielding a barrage of terse questions.

"What's that sound?" Kahya asked, cocking her head to listen. Ballan was about to insist she be more specific when a strange, stumbling melody reached his ears. Although "melody" was perhaps a strong word - it sounded to him like a great deal of wheezing. Tilda seemed to have heard it as well, and was making a beeline for its source.

The sound, as it happened, came from a strange, hand-cranked instrument operated by a brightly dressed dwarven man. He had one leg up on a cardboard box, resting the instrument across his thigh as he turned the crank and belted out some strange song in his native language. Beside him, an automated puppet show played out for the amusement of those making their way through the Mason's District. He wore a foppish cap, and his incredibly bushy, short beard made his head appear perfectly round. As they approached, the scene reached some sort of climactic conclusion as the instrument nearly shrieked, and one of the puppets fell off the stage.

A worn sign above the puppet stage read "DAGINALD WHIMSBY'S FANTASTIPORIUM".

He bowed deeply. A few coins were thrown his way, and there was a small smattering of applause. Not a very successful busker, it seemed. Tilda walked straight up to him as he gathered up the coins in his hat, placing one in herself.

"Mornin', Dag." She greeted him casually. The dwarven man immediately gave her a wide grin.

"Morning! It's nearly lunch time, Tilda!" He grabbed her hand and shook it, pulling her close. "Bless me stones, girl! I'd heard Krakkus had been nabbed and you were on the foot!" He kept his voice low, glancing at everyone she'd brought. "And who're these three, besides?" Tilda waved the dwarf off as he pocketed his earnings and donned his hat once more.

"Introductions - well, this is Holgith, Kahya, and - I've told you about Ballan, right?" Tilda pointed at each of them in turn.

"I don't need to know what she told you." Ballan cut in immediately. The dwarf gave him a keen look, and then laughed.

"And this is Daginald-" Tilda began, but the dwarf cut her off.

"-Whimsby, owner of the Fantastiporium and master musician and dramaturge, at your service." He shook each of their hands in turn, his grip surprisingly strong. "Tilda'll be here on business, I'm sure, so let's go somewhere quiet." With that, he hefted his large instrument over his shoulder, and sauntered down a nearby alleyway. Tilda followed without explanation, and the rest of them were forced to as well.

In the alley, the noise of the open street was much diminished. Daginald passed by a large orcish woman, patting her on the arm. She walked past them wordlessly, casually taking up a position by the street. Keeping watch, Ballan suspected. What had Tilda gotten them into…?

"So, Tilda my girl, are you going to tell me what happened before you skipped town?" Daginald asked, sitting on the ground with his instrument in his lap. Ballan opted to stand, but Tilda sat down across from him and began explaining what had happened.

"…and now we're trying to track down Trav." Tilda concluded.

"Aye, and that's where I come in." Daginald ran a hand over his beard. "He's a hot commodity, Tilda. Dangerous knowing anything about that fella, what with Lord Malcom's goons stomping all over the city looking for him."

"So you haven't heard anything?" Tilda pressed. Daginald raised a hand.

"Now, I didn't say that. Just that - are you sure you want to get involved?" Daginald explained.

"He's the only one who could possibly know where the crystals are." Tilda griped.

"…And the crystals are incredibly dangerous in the wrong hands." Ballan elaborated.

Daginald sighed heavily, and then nodded.

"Well, word is this Trav of yours is a regular ghost." Daginald began explaining, idly plucking at his instrument. A low and thoughtful melody began to play as he turned the crank.

"No one knows where he came from. Guards never even saw him enter the city - never seen him leave, either." Daginald shook his head, a low, long note playing. "He's a mage for certain, but he hides like a thief. When they try to use magic to find him, he thwarts them with the mundane. When they use the mundane, he thwarts them with magic. No one has seen his face, and no one knows where's staying." He played three notes, high and short. "Or so they say."

Daginald grinned.

"See, there should be nowhere in the city you can hide from everyone. But here in the Mason's District, there's a place where no one goes - the old quarry tunnels, beneath the theater. It's dangerous there, and derelict. But recently, someone broke in - and I think that someone is your ghost." His song abruptly stopped as he finished speaking, and Ballan realized, suddenly, that Daginald had been casting a spell that entire time. The mana had simply been hidden behind the music.

"You're a bard." Ballan observed, and Daginald gave him a wink.

"He's not as softheaded as you made him out to be, Tilda!" Daginald stood up, brushed himself off, and hoisted the instrument over his shoulder once more. "If it's into the quarry you must go, you'll be well-served to have a dwarf at your side - to stop you from walking into a collapse, or worse."

"It will be dark." Krakkus lamented.

"I can conjure us some light." Ballan reassured Krakkus, before addressing Daginald. "How do we get into these tunnels?"

"Well, it's off-limits at the best of times. The barricade was destroyed some time ago - it's unclear when, exactly." Daginald shrugged. "They didn't even put the barricade back up. Cheap bastards. Should be as simple as strolling in - assuming no one sees us."

"Are we sure he's there?" Ballan asked dubiously. Tilda gave him an annoyed look, but Daginald just frowned.

"No way to know for sure without checking." He clapped Ballan on the back. "Lighten up, lad! If it's clear no one's in the tunnels, we'll just turn and go!" Daginald laughed loudly.

"Holgith is hungry." Holgith stated. Tilda groaned, and began marching out of the alleyway.

"We'll get you something on the way - let's go." She commanded, and Daginald sauntered after her. The rest of them followed suit - with Holgith musing about what he would have for lunch.

Daginald's instrument was, as it turned out, a hurdy-gurdy - something Ballan had personally never heard of. Kahya had many questions for Daginald about the contraption, mostly about how it was supposed to work. Ballan found himself listening along to the explanations with a small amount of interest. The conversation derailed when they arrived at the Whitestone Theater.

The enormous amphitheater was situated beneath a massive, whitestone cliff. Infrastructure had been built into the cliffside to support the theater, and seating had been carved into the stone itself. A building situated nearby attended to the needs of those performing here, but the theater itself was entirely outdoors.

"I don't see any tunnels." Ballan noted.

"Wouldn't be much of a hiding place if it were easy to find." Daginald remarked, and pointed at the stage. "The theater was built over the tunnels. There's a locked door that leads to the entrance." He glanced around. "No rehearsals today - lucky us. Let's be quick."

And without another word, he started jogging down towards the stage.

When they arrived at the bottom, Daginald led them down another flight of stairs into the orchestra pit. Sure enough, tucked in the back of the room was an old door - locked firmly. The lock was unable to withstand Tilda's tools, however, and Ballan found himself having to conjure a small, floating light before they even entered the tunnels. The theater, it seemed, had been using the area beneath the stage for storage.

On the far side of the wall, there was simply a large, round hole descending into darkness. Around it, the splintered remains of wooden boards were piled - but unrepaired. Nothing else had been done to cordon off the area - perhaps they assumed the locked door would be enough… this time.

"They didn't send a search party to see if someone actually broke in." Daginald murmured, looking down into the tunnel. "When no one came out, they assumed that was that."

"Why didn't they send a search party?" Kahya asked.

"Well, abandoned tunnels are dangerous." Daginald mused. "Also, some people believe the tunnels are haunted."

"Haunted!?" Tilda hissed. "You didn't say anything about-"

A long, low moan echoed forth from the mouth of the tunnel, and Tilda's voice died in her throat.

"…Was Trav a necromancer?" Ballan asked her after a tense silence.

"How would I know?" Tilda whispered frantically.

"It seems there is something in these tunnels, at least." Kahya remarked. "Perhaps an illusion meant to scare meddlers away?" Ballan blinked, and then nodded.

"Good catch." Ballan pointed out. "That's what I'd do, if I were… hiding in a supposedly haunted quarry. He could be counting on no one coming to find him."

"Then he counted wrong." Krakkus growled, drawing his blade.

"I will lead. Holgith - you can see in the dark, yes?" Holgith nodded once, drawing his axe. "Then take the rear. Ballan - you are in front with me. Bring the light - and everyone, stay close." Everyone got into position, and Krakkus faced the tunnel with his shield raised.

As one, they descended into the darkness.

Anticlimactically, nothing happened for several minutes. Ballan scanned the tunnels for any signs of magical residue or interference, while Daginald advised them of unsafe places to stand. Tilda, white as a sheet, nonetheless diligently checked for anything out of the ordinary. Progress was slow. The tunnels were empty.

"That's… a bit odd." Daginald murmured. Everyone paused.

They found themselves at an intersection - with two directions to choose from. To Ballan's eye, the tunnels were identical. Daginald was standing at the mouth of the left path with his hand on the stone wall, scratching his chin.

"The stone here's not been worked by hand or tool." He ran his index finger along the stone, and then licked it. "…Excavated by magic, on my pa's grave."

"Recently?" Ballan asked, and Daginald shrugged.

"Dunno - they had mages in the quarry even before the city was built." He pointed down the other tunnel. "It's fair strange, though - why dig all this way by hand just to have some mage saunter down and blast a hole in the other direction?" Ballan thought for a moment, and then pulled out his spellbook.

He walked over to stand behind Daginald, squinting at the stone. The shadows were cast in strange angles from his floating light, but he could see what Daginald was talking about. The tunnel was too uniform to have been dug by hand.

Reciting the words from his spellbook, he felt power begin to flow naturally from within it. The runic incantations he had spent the previous evening inscribing with Boots fulfilled their purpose, directing the mana in intricate and specific ways. As he completed the spell, the tunnel lit up in emerald hues to his eyes. Terramancy - rudimentary, but powerful… or recent.

"…I think he dug this tunnel recently." Ballan murmured.

Suddenly, another low, piteous moan filled the tunnel, causing Tilda to yelp. Ballan, however, saw something down in the darkness of the tunnel - the faintest flash of purplish pink… illusion magic. "And I think Kahya was right about him trying to scare us off. He's down there - I'm sure of it."

"Holgith looks forward to meeting the man capable of tunneling through ground like worm." Holgith remarked.

"We press on." Krakkus insisted, and they did so.

The magically carved tunnel eventually began to widen, and then vanished completely as they found themselves in a large, underground chamber. As they entered, they heard the moan again - this time closer. Whatever was making the sound, it was in this room for certain. They crept forward… Something in the darkness began to glow…

It was a small scrap of parchment, with a rune inscribed upon it. Momentarily, the rune flared to life, and a piteous moan issued forth… from the paper. Illusion magic. Ballan picked up the slip of paper, signalling to Krakkus that it was safe.

Besides the rune, there was something else written on the paper:

"Maybe next time, Tilda."

Ballan handed the piece of paper to Tilda wordlessly, who snatched it out of his hand before screaming in incoherent rage. At that same moment, light filled the room, revealing an enormous, natural cavern. Ballan immediately scanned for a light source - magic, again. Someone had placed runes all over the room to make sure… they could see?

He realized everyone was looking to him for an answer, their guards up.

"It's… nothing. It's just light. We're safe." Ballan told them, perplexed. The white stone of the previous tunnels clashed with the more mundane browns and greys of the cavern. Despite being large and empty, there was not much to see…

Until he turned around.

On the far side of this subterranean chamber, set into what appeared to be a wall of masoned rock, was a large, stone door. It was not enormous - perhaps about ten feet tall. On its face, it depicted a single, unbroken circle. Or rather, the circle would have been unbroken… if the door was not cracked partially open.

"By my stones, who went and built something like that?" Daginald exclaimed, trotting towards the door. "Looks ancient by my reckon-"

Suddenly, the ground began to shake. Tilda yelped, and Holgith was thrown bodily to the ground when what appeared to be a giant burrowing insect erupted from the floor, mandibles reaching for Tilda.

Krakkus intercepted the creature, driving it back with his shield as it let out a high-pitched shriek.

It turned to face Ballan, its enormous multi-faceted eyes reflecting the revulsion on his face. It was yellow-green, its tough chitin covered in scars. It had six limbs - four of them were simply legs, though the front two terminated in horrid burrowing claws. It crouched low in the cavern, chattering as saliva dripped from its mandibles.

"It's a cave terror!" Daginald shouted over the din, readying his hurdy-gurdy. He cranked the handle furiously, and magical music began to flow from his instrument. Ballan felt himself buoyed with courage and strength. "And it looks hungry!"

The cave terror screeched again, and charged.