Paul Kidd - Descent into the Depths of the Earth

The instant transformation had ripped Escalla’s clothesapart. She threw the ruined scraps of her clothing away. Cursing and muttering, she began to search the dead, bleeding elf.

From far behind her came a thin little cry, the voice of Polk. “Girl, you all right?”

“I’m fine!” Escalla dropped her voice to a mutter. “Exceptfor dripping with drow body fluids.” She yelled across her shoulder down thetunnel. “I got her! How’s Jus?”

“Poisoned!”

Gold glinted from the hair of the dead drow. A true kleptomaniac, Escalla swooped and plucked out a golden spider pin. Swearing like a dock worker, Escalla sped back to join her friends.

The tunnel section between the caves looked like a slaughter yard. Parts of dark elves lay amidst an ocean of blood-black and gleaming in thedim phosphorescent light.

With a look of raw fury frozen on his face, Jus sat slumped unconscious against a wall. Polk sat on his heels, looking puzzled. Private Henry wrung his hands in panic. Cinders merely grinned and wagged his tail.

Wincing, Escalla dropped to the floor. It felt like half her ribs were broken by the impact of the drow’s ice spell. Hurting and dazed, shewaved a hand at Polk and Henry. Dripping with filth and feeling violated, the faerie dragged herself over to Jus, took his pulse, then saw the bolt from a hand crossbow lying by the man’s injured thigh.

“What happened?”

“The sorceress he caught on the rope attacked him!” Henrypulled at a drow’s cloak to make a bandage, then hastily dropped it when hefound it to be soaked with blood. “She stabbed him with a crossbow bolt.”

Wiping her blood soaked hair back from her face, Escalla wearily trudged over to Jus. Her naked body dripped blood as she stepped onto him, and she saw Polk and Henry’s eyes go wide in alarm.

“It’s all right, guys. Drow blood, not mine.” Escalla wincedand held her ribs. “He’s alive. Don’t worry about it. Drow put a sleeping drugon their missile weapons. He’ll come out of it in about ten minutes.” The girlfolded over, clutching herself. “Just time to… to check his pockets forsmall… small change.”

Racing forward, Polk caught the girl as she fell. Lolling in agony, Escalla could only croak and close her eyes.

Cracked ribs, bruises, concussion…

This had not been one of Escalla’s better days. Her stoneskinspell had stopped punctures but had transmitted the shock right though to the bones. Painfully awake at last, Escalla felt herself being tended to. Wounds were tended and her face wiped semi-clean. Sitting cradled in Jus’ lap, Escallasmoldered, thinking dire thoughts about the drow. She opened one bloodshot eye and said, “So. Fireproof cloaks, poisoned arrows, they use magic, move silently,and are immune to magic at least half of the time…” Extremely miffed, thegirl lifted her arm and suffered to have another healing spell across the ribs. “Apart from that, we’re pretty even.”

Bandaged and grim, Jus merely kept on with his work, healing the faerie. “We got them.”

“Yeah, and they almost got us!”

Unconcerned, Jus shrugged and said, “‘Almost’ still makesthem dead and us alive.” He poured water onto a cloth and handed it to Escalla.“How do you feel?”

“Like crap!” With dried blood crusting her hair and skin,Escalla looked a mess. “My ribs are better though.”

“Good.”

Jus arose. He had a puncture in one thigh, as well as numerous gashes and painful, bloody cuts. He lowered Escalla to her feet and handed her a long strip of silken drow cloth as a dress. Escalla used it for cover as she tried to rub herself dean and shot a concerned look at the Justicar.

“Hey, man! You’re still ripped to bits!”

“You needed the healing more than I.” Jus moved slowly andheavily now that his wounds were stiff with pain. “I’ll have more healing spellstomorrow.”

“Damn!” Escalla threw her washcloth aside. “We can’t gotraipsing along these tunnels without you in full fighting trim. We’ll get wipedout.” The girl roughly tied the sheer black silk into a dress. “We’re going tohave to hole up for a day and let you rest.”

The huge ranger sighed heavily, then looked at the drow corpses lying splayed and smeared about the tunnel.

“Not here. They might have a relief.”

“There are side alcoves. We’ll get in one, and I’ll cover theentrance with an illusion spell.” The girl flew up to hold Jus by the hand inconcern. “You sure you’re all right to walk?”

“I’ll manage.”

“Come on then. Let’s get the loot sorted out, then we’ll walkfor half a mile and hide.” The girl heaved an irritated sigh. “I feel like suchan idiot. Virtually everything I threw at them was blocked.”

“Change your strategy. Use spells that affect the area aroundthe drow and not ones that attack the drow themselves.”

“You got it.” Escalla scowled and tried to think. “I’ve gottahole up and redo my spell list.”

Working with the diligence of a true monomaniac, Polk had been searching the drow lairs. Apparently the proper cataloging of spoils was a vital part of adventure. Polk sat cross legged amidst his chronicle and pens, carefully recounting every single sword blow, dodge, and spell. Escalla threw the man a happy little wave and was given a grumble in return.

“Hey, Polk! Nice crossbow shot, man. I didn’t know you couldshoot!”

“Had to save the boy.” Polk sniffed in self importance as hewent about his work. “The boy’s no hero. Can’t interfere with a hero, but theboy needed help.”

Escalla kissed Polk upon the cheek and said, “Well thank you.Here’s the magic bottle.”

She placed the faerie bottle into Polk’s lap-big and alreadybrimming with a whiskey so concentrated that it could strip paint and raise the dead. The girl shot Polk a dire glance. “And no faerie wine! Especially not thesixty-three!”

Infinite happiness filled Polk’s soul. He wrenched open thebottle, filled a tin mug, then drew in an important breath, rose, and presented the liquor to the Justicar. He poured more drinks for Escalla and for the teenage soldier, then contented himself with drinking straight from the bottle.

“Here’s to adventure! Next time we’ll bash a hundred more!”

The whiskey traveled down living gullets as though it had spines and claws. Private Henry almost coughed up a lung. He fought for breath, tears in his eyes, a look of horror on his face as he saw Escalla raise her little mug to him in salute and take a second draught.

“Here’s to you, kid!”

Polk happily arranged items from the looted drow in a line along the floor. There were a few scant pieces of gold, a few platinum coins, short swords, daggers, bucklers, crossbows, poisoned crossbow bolts, and bloodstained clothes. Most intriguing of all were scroll tubes lined up side by side. Escalla raced over to pry open the tubes-only to be frozen in place by onehard glare from the Justicar. The ranger picked up the tubes one by one, checking them carefully. Cinders sniffed for magic then happily began to wag his tail.

Clean!

“Hoopy!” Escalla pounced, ripped the cap off a tube, andfound only a piece of parchment covered with lines and squiggles. She hastily moved to the next tube, opened it, and found that it was the same.

“Aww man! These aren’t scrolls!” She scowled petulantly atthe parchments, turning them around and around. “Can’t these drow even gettreasure right?”

The Justicar winced as he sat down with the first piece of parchment spread out across his knees. He examined the carefully inked lines with notes and pointing arrows scribbled beside the diagrams in a different hand. He held the drawing up in the shine of Cinders’ flames, checkingcarefully for secret messages and invisible ink.