New Life

Fangs and scales flash in the light. Swords and screams slice stale cavern air beneath a glowing rocky ceiling. Tentacles whip towards Rhogar from an angry stalagmite with a gaping mouth. He jerks his scaly arm out of the tentacles’ reach. His greataxe slams down, severing them. Even as they disintegrate in the dirt, the stalagmite is sprouting new ones.

“That’ll be enough of that!” Darrak bellows. His warhammer smashes into the head of a man who’s a snake from the waist down. An enormous silver ape with four arms and silver fur screeches and charges towards the warhammer-wielding dwarf. Vines snake around its waist and pull it towards a diminutive forest gnome. Lorilla slips behind a rock to evade the beast as she says a few words Rhogar doesn’t recognize. The vines grow wicked thorns that pierce the ape. Wherever they draw blood, the wounds fizz green and their edges blacken.

“Look out!” Naivara warns as she whirls past Rhogar. Her lithe elven form cuts between him and the half-snake, half-human Yuan-Ti monstrosity that’s coming towards him with fangs bared. One of her swords hacks the Yuan-Ti’s arm, while the other plunges into the tentacled stalagmite, removing a hunk of rocky flesh. Rhogar brandishes his greataxe at the Yuan-Ti. It hisses and recoils. He starts to swing and–

CRASH!

Rhogar is on the ground. No air in his lungs. Ape face with huge teeth above him. The noise of battle blends with ringing in his ears. The room spins and light fades.

Hot sun bakes the savannah. Battle rages between black dragonborn and giant snakes. Prankaar is on the ground, bleeding from multiple bite wounds. Lerthistel slices one snake’s head from its neck, but another coils around her. Nencir staggers, his greatsword dragging beside him.

“Fight! For the glory of Lord Rhogar!” Rhogar shouts. The warlord he was named for is their commander in Ghodrikh, the one who assigned them to escort this caravan to Bogati.

None of them knew about the serpent warriors who’ve overrun the trading oasis at Lake Thygmar. Not until it was too late and the giant snakes had them surrounded.

“GAH!” Kildren yelps, clutching his head. One of the snakes has its eyes fixed on him, sibilant syllables falling from its scaly lips. He falls to his knees. Blood trickles from his eyes and ears.

For a moment, all Rhogar sees is red. Power surges through his body. His greataxe starts swinging hard and fast. Each stroke connects with a snake. He roars; the ground shakes. His comrades–at least, the ones still standing–rally. Weapons flash in the sun. Sweat and blood glisten on scales. Snakes and dragonborn scream. Merchants cower behind their camels and in their wagons, praying to Fharlaghn and any other gods who might help them.

Rhogar sees the world through red haze until the last giant serpent stops twitching.

“Get up!” Darrak’s voice pulls Rhogar back to the cavern. “You’re not leaving us that easy.” Golden energy emanates from the dwarf’s armored hands, which are firmly planted on Rhogar’s chest.

“Oy, Scales-for-brains!” Vladislak taunts from the other side of the cave. A mocking tune from his panflute follows. “Why bother with him? I’m clearly the tastier meal.” He shakes his rear at the one Yuan-Ti still fighting, drawing it away from Rhogar and Darrak.

Rhogar turns his head as energy flows back into him from Darrak’s healing spell. The giant silver ape is tied down with thorny vines. A pool of purplish, sparkly light engulfs it, burning flesh but leaving vines unharmed. Lorilla stands at a safe distance, chanting with her staff outstretched toward the beast. It roars and struggles but weakens every moment.

A death screech echoes through the cavern. Rhogar sits up to find Naivara behind the angry stalagmite, although she blends into the cavern wall. Her two swords have run the creature through. Beside her, a body lies immobile on the ground: half man, half snake, all bloody.

“Thanks, Darrak,” Rhogar tells his bearded friend as he gets to his feet. For him, red haze has filled the cavern. His muscles bulge with new energy. His gaze locks on the remaining Yuan-Ti, who has Vladislak backed up against a crumbly earthen wall. The next instant, his greataxe cleaves the snake-man’s head from its body.

“Welcome back,” the half-elf smiles at Rhogar as the Yuan-Ti’s corpse spits blood from its neck stump and falls to the ground.

“That’s the last of them,” Lorilla’s breezy voice announces as the ape’s roars turn to gurgling groans. The sparkling purple light dissipates. The ape tumbles sideways. Countless necrotic punctures mar its burnt skin. Vladislak eyes the dead beast, which is at least four times Lorilla’s size, with wary admiration.

“You’re terrifying, you know that?” he compliments the forest gnome druid. “For someone who’s all peace and love and balance, that is some gruesome work.”

Lorilla blushes and shrugs. “Nature contains multitudes. And so do those who protect it.”

“Your work is effective and kept your hands clean,” Naivara notes with approval as she cleans her swords. “Better than any of the rest of us today, except maybe Darrak.”

“How’s everyone feeling?” the dwarf demands gruffly.

The red haze fades from Rhogar’s vision. He’s tired and sore, but he’s on his feet with his weapon in his hands “Better than I could have been, absolutely. Thank you again, Darrak–”

“Don’t mention it,” Darrak waves off Rhogar’s gratitude. “All in the job. We fight together, so we have each other’s backs.”

“That’s not how it worked, where I come from.” Rhogar’s mind returns to the fight in the savannah. No one in their group had packed anti-venom for their trip from Ghodrikh to Bogati, and their healer was the first to die. There was no way to save any of his comrades who’d been bitten by the giant serpents. The merchants wanted to leave them to rot in the sweltering heat, but Rhogar convinced them to carry them in the wagons, to make them as comfortable as they could, and to help him bury them once they’d all passed and the caravan reached a safe place.

“I’m the only protection you’ve got left against beasts like that, with these warriors felled,” Rhogar reminded the merchants. “They went down protecting you. This is the least you can do in return.”

“Not how it’s done at home. Every man for himself, I say,” one of the merchants retorted.

“You’re soldiers. You knew what the risks were when you took orders,” another grumbled.

“You’re halfway between Ghodrikh and Bogati, if I’m reading this map right,” Rhogar argued. “Do you think you can make it to either city without any soldiers alongside?”

They’d caved, and his companions got the best burial he could give them. But the merchants’ callousness was one of many reasons, all of the same kind, that led Rhogar to come to Thradnyss from Bogati instead of returning to Ghodrikh.

“So thank you. All of you. For having my back when things got bad,” Rhogar continues. “I’ve fought with many who would have left me for dead.”

“You’ve fought with a load of bastards, it would seem,” Vladislak quips.

Rhogar shrugs. He hates to speak ill of the dead, but Vladislak’s sentiment resonates with him more than he’d admit aloud.

“No honor in that. You’re better off without them,” Darrak grumbles.

“Aye. I’ve no desire to return to that life,” Rhogar agrees. “Coming to Thradnyss was the best decision I’ve ever made.”

“And we’re glad to have met you,” Lorilla smiles. “Let’s return to the surface, before the daylight spell on the ceiling wears off and it’s too dark to see down here.”

“I second that. I don’t want to know what other horrors might be hiding in the dark down here,” Vladislak shivers before moving quickly towards the way out.

“Let’s go to the tavern before reporting back to the Guildmaster,” Rhogar suggests. “I owe you all a round or two of drinks.”

“You owe me nothing–” Darrak starts.

“Let him,” Naivara interrupts. “We’ve all earned at least a round or two of drinks, and if he’s volunteering to buy them, I won’t turn it down.”

“After that fight, it’s worth celebrating that we’re all still alive,” Lorilla adds, surprising them all; she’s normally not the type for drinking or celebrating.

“Still alive, and a damn good team,” Rhogar qualifies.

“Fine. Have it your way,” Darrak mutters, but he’s smiling through his reddish beard.

And so all five of them emerge from the cavern into the waning light of the setting sun, battered but victorious.