Into the Warg's den

by Gael

Following the trail left by the Yeth hounds, we headed northeast of Hall. Determined to confront the Warg King that had plagued the town. We travelled across the plains for several hours before finally arriving at his dwelling. But entering it would prove to be a challenge.

At the site stood a large magical circle, surrounded by four towering menhirs. Each one stood in a cardinal direction and bore an ancient Elvish rune, symbolizing one of the four seasons. In the centre, a violent tornado raged. Pulling in anything nearby. Something Alistan nearly discovered firsthand.

Hayley and Luke pulled their knowledge together to decipher the runes. It seemed each menhir could change the season into what it represented. Provided an appropriate offering was made of course. So the question was: which season would let us in?

We reasoned that since the Warg attacks never occurred during Spring, that had to be the answer. As for the offering, At first, we thought a bit too literally about what kind was required. But then realized we needed something more symbolic instead. So we used magic to make a handful of goodberries sprout and grow. Representing Spring and the arrival of new life.

As the chill of autumn gave way to a warm and gentle breeze, the tornado gradually subsided. Revealing a large cave entrance.

We approached cautiously. The deeper we went, the colder the air grew and the creeping sensation of being watched intensified. Hoping for diplomatic solution, I announced our presence in Sylvan. Requesting the Warg King to reveal himself.
My call was met by a deep, echoing howl from within.

The first we saw of him were his eyes. A deep yellow colour that radiated malice towards us that seemed to look straight into our soul. Never blinking and always watching. His fur seemed to be an even darker shade than the shadows that hid his body from our view. And from that large muzzle, armed with fangs as large as blades, emerged a deep growling voice that simple said “Prey”.

Slightly annoyed, Liliana responded in her most innocent voice, “Doggy.” Like I said, we tried diplomacy.

The effect was immediate. The Warg King roared, fury erupting in his voice. But rather than engage us directly out in the open, he retreated into the darkness of his burrow. Forcing us to follow.

We descended into the depths. Our path lit by Luke’s magic. Casting flickering shadows along the walls that seemed almost alive. Eventually reaching the last thing I’d hoped we wouldn’t, a crossroads.

The tunnel split in two. Thus increasing the risk of a potential ambush that could cut us off from escape. In an effort to prevent this, I rigged a simple tripwire with a bell to alert us if anything approached from behind. Regrettably, I had forgotten to pack any real traps for our trip. An oversight on my part I admit.

We continued down the first tunnel, which opened up into a large cavern. At its centre grew a patch of grass and blooming rosebushes. But before we could appreciate the scene, a thunderous howl echoed from the far end, shaking us to our core.
A massive warg lunged from the shadows, charging at Luke. Fortunately Alistan blocked the attack just in time and engaging the beast. Though it was smaller than the Warg King, this one was still the size of a house.

It clamped its jaws around Alistan’s sword arm. Only Hayley and Liliana’s combined healing magic preventing it from severing it entirely. The beast was eventually forced to let go, howling in pain as Luke’s magic and Dadroz’s bolts blinded it. Allowing Alistan to finish it with a deep gash across its throat.

But we had little time to rest. For the alarm I had set rang out. Two dire wolves charged in to reinforce the fallen warg. THough Luke’s fire magic made short work of them.

We took a brief pause. Allowing Hayley to tend to Alistan’s wounds while Liliana and I collected a few rose seeds from the bushes. Then we pressed on.

The second tunnel also split. And I placed another alarm before we proceeded. This tunnel also ended in a small cavern, occupied by two dire wolves who showed no intent to fight.

Using the gifts granted by Lady Viviene, Liliana spoke with them. They revealed that while they did not wish to fight, the were forced to obey their alpha, the Warg King, who waited in the next ice-filled chamber.

Showing mercy, Hayley cast a sleep spell upon them. Thus preventing them from hearing his call.

Now only the Warg King remained.

As we entered the final tunnel, the temperature plummeted once more. Ice covered the floor and jagged icicles hung from the ceiling. Eventually opening up into the Warg King's ice cave.

He greeted us with chilling arrogance: “Ah, the prey arrives at last. The High King shall be pleased.” Now it was clear to us. King Ulther had placed him here to delay us. And the Warg was most proud to have done so for a full four days.

We drew our weapons in response. The Warg let out a deafening howl. Icicles shattered above us, and the sheer volume made our ears bleed. Alistan and Dadroz then charged, but the icy floor hampered their advance. Which suited Luke just fine as he unleashed a wave of crimson flame.

But it was Liliana who stole the moment. With blade in hand and radiant light around her, she glided across the ice like a dancer, slicing at the Warg King’s legs with swift, graceful strikes.

Enraged, he cursed Viviene for her interference and lunged, grabbing Liliana by the waist and biting down with brutal force. Before then spatting out her motionless body.

“Like I said,” he growled, “prey.”

Alistan, screaming in rage, closed the gap. His relentless strikes forced the Warg back and in the slight opening provided, he desperately administered a healing potion to his sister. Visibly relaxing when she drew breath once more.

Luke and Hayley followed up with a barrage of magic. Giving Dadroz the advantage to end it with a single bolt through the Warg King’s skull.

With the deed done, we returned to Hall to inform the townsfolk of our success. They were most pleased at the news and provided us with a silver platter which would once a day provide us with a meal while we were in the Feywild. Something which would help us greatly. Apart from Luke whom I would later learn had taken to only eating jerky and goodberries for the remainder of the trip. Not trusting any food that originated from the Feywild.

But the greatest reward was the one we’d hoped for from the start, our mounts. Our sculptures had impressed the townsfolk enough for them to breathe life into them. And so, with fond farewells, we left the warm people of Hall behind and continued our journey to Nimmerburg.

Continue reading...

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Into the Warg's den

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