“As I was saying,” Haldin continued, having recovered his breath, “there is a small cave entrance close to the top of this accumulation of refuse. It would seem that waste materials from Dravuliel’s necromantic work are thrown out of it periodically, and have built up over time into what we see here. We require a silence spell for our next step, because stationed inside the entrance is a creature that can make a very loud and unpleasant noise indeed.” He looked at the half-elf, who brought out his scroll-case and pressed a wooden button on the side.
“Silence,” he said softly, and within a few moments a scroll wound itself out of a long slit down the side of the case.
Brey unslung the bow on her back and checked the arrows in her quiver, pulling each one out to inspect it. Directly behind the head of each arrow was a small vial of clear liquid, molded around the shaft. None seemed to have been broken by the skin-creatures.
“I didn’t know you could use a bow,” said Mordan.
“I commanded a troop of rangers behind enemy lines for almost a year,” she replied. “Of course I can use a bow.”
With Tarrel in the lead, the four scrambled up the edge of the charnel slope, keeping their eyes fixed on the entrance. As they got closer, they could see that just inside the cave mouth stood something that looked like a huge mushroom, almost as tall as a man. Haldin tapped Tarrel’s shoulder and pointed to the thing. With a nod, he raised his scroll and began to read.
Before he could complete the spell, however, a small, dark shape shot out of the cave. Apparently disturbed by the motion, the mushroom-creature started to vibrate, emitting an ear-splitting scream that echoed off the valley sides. It was abruptly cut off when Tarrel finished his incantation, and the four looked at each other uncertainly, and then back at the cave-mouth. Something was moving in the shadows behind the now-silent fungus. They flattened themselves against the rock, out of sight from the entrance.
The thing that had flown out of the cave-mouth circled for a while, and then came to a hover not far from the companions. It looked like a mixture of a hawk, a cat, and a monkey; Mordan raised his rapier, and saw from the corner of his eye that Brey had nocked an arrow and Tarrel was taking aim with his wand.
The creature’s mouth was moving, but it was silenced by the spell Tarrel had cast on the fungus. Holding its empty hands up in a gesture of peace, it flew rapidly until it was out of the spell’s effect.
“Wait!” the thing said. “I’m not a danger to you!” Its voice sounded human and female, with a Karrnathi accent. The three did not drop their guard, but Haldin spoke to the creature.
“This is a homunculus, is it not?” he asked. “May I assume that I am speaking to its owner?”
“Yes,” the creature said. “My name is Dria d’Cannith. I am a prisoner here. They didn’t capture my messenger, and I’ve been using it to scout for a way out.”
“D’Cannith?” asked Mordan. “Don’t tell me Dravuliel has warforged in there as well!”
The creature dipped briefly in a gesture that might be interpreted as a nod.
“I was sent here to rescue a member of the family who was kidnapped. Since being captured myself. I’ve found out that my cousin has been forced to work on a project which aims to create undead constructs, with the advantages of both types and the weaknesses of neither. At first he refused, but since they captured me he has been co-operating to save both our lives!”
Haldin spoke up. “Dear lady,” he said, “may I therefore suppose that, by the use of your homunculus here, you have been able to gain some knowledge of this facility’s layout?”
“Some,” the construct replied. “I can guide you from where you are to where they’re keeping me, and I know a few other places.”
“I see that you have done business with gnomes before,” said Haldin with a disarming smile, “since you are so careful to point out the advantages of rescuing you before doing anything else. But do not worry, we shall endeavor to help you, even though we came here for purposes of our own.”
“He’s all heart, isn’t he?” muttered Tarrel.
“What’s in the entrance?” asked Mordan. “Your little pet set the shrieker off, and it looks like something’s moving back there.”
“There are four violet fungi,” said the homunculus, “and behind them some zombies. I think the zombies are supposed to raise the alarm if anyone tries to get in that way. One of them is standing by a big gong.”
“This could be a trap, you know,” said Brey, glaring at the small creature.
Haldin turned to her with a reassuring smile. “Please don’t worry, Captain,” he said. “I have been examining the homunculus while we were speaking, and I am satisfied that it is a pure construct, with no hint of necromancy in its nature. While he is a necromancer of exceptional ability, I have seen nothing to suggest that Dravuliel has any skill as an artificer. But of course, we should always be on our guard.”
