Into the Mine

Sensibly deciding to rest before pressing on, the group cast themselves down on the sand of the little beach and slept, their wounds healing as they rested.

Cave Level, Dwarf Mine, 13th April 1601

The next morning, feeling a great deal better, the three intrepid heroes rounded the corner to finish exploring the cave they had discovered.

They found a small dead-end, with a 5' square hole in the ceiling against the eastern wall. A 4' platform stood underneath, with a ladder leading upwards into the dark. Tied to the platform were four small boats, resting on their keels, clearly intended for use if the cave flooded.

Mounting the platform, Animir proceeded to climb the ladder, finding after 40' that there was a heavy wooden cover over the shaft. Cautiously, she heaved upwards, and it hinged backwards with a crash.

She found herself looking up into a square room of dressed stone, 15' x 20', and blessedly unoccupied. A battered wooden winch rested over the top of the shaft she'd just emerged from.

Listening carefully, she could hear a sound, a faint shouf....shouf...., rhythmic, regular, like a low, soft panting noise. Unable to make anything of it, she returned to the others, and led them back up to the winch room.

Cautiously, she crept to the exit, and looked both ways. No-one was about. Looking up, she saw a curious thing; long, tubular bags of soft leather, about 1' across, suspended from the ceiling. It was from these, she realized, that the noise was coming.

Spooked, she backed up, and described it to the others. Thorkil looked puzzled, but Akara brightened. "Air-pipes!" he cried. "I'm home!", and he was about to rush off when Animir stopped him. "What's the chance of you bumping into a trog out there?" she pointed out.

"Oooh," said the little kobold, a bit taken aback, "it a good job I bring heroes with me!"

Akara was completely incapable of understanding how the pipes worked - to him it was "magic with pipes in", but he knew what they did; provide fresh air and exhaust to the mines beyond. He was able to draw a rough map of the areas of the mine he knew, and the others studied it carefully, before venturing out with missile weapons prepared.

After a brief excursion to the stores, which proved to be exactly that - a room full of barrels of food - they reached the entrance hall.

Things had changed since Akara had last been here. About a dozen barrels had been stacked in the entryway, blocking it. This explained why they couldn't get in from the other side. However there were more urgent things to consider.

A huge wheel stood at one side of the hall, connected to the fans which fed the air-pipes. Trudging around inside this wheel was a female dwarf, manacled to the axle, and providing the motive power.

A group of three kobolds were busily cooking at the kitchen area to the northeast; and seated around the two tables in the middle were four troglydytes; three ordinary-looking ones and one slightly larger, armoured in studded leather and armed with twin cudgels of nail-studded wood.

As the party considered this, the dwarf in the wheel stopped walking and began to shout at Thorkil and Akara in an urgent and impassioned way. This, naturally, attracted the attention of the trogs, and they sprang up. The leader and two others charged at the heroes, while the fourth paused to throw a javelin before following up.

The intruders had time for two shots with their missile weapons before the trogs were upon them. Animir and Thorkil, on the ends of the line, engaged the two ordinary trogs, but the leader - which they heard one of the others call "Ironhide" - bore down on Akara! With a gulp, the little kobold drew his short sword and braced himself.

The trog leaderene was a frightening sight, her twin knobkerries whistling as she whirled them into the attack; but Akara, fired by fear, ducked and dodged, avoiding the worst of her attacks. He fought back gamely, his diminutive sword tagging the roaring trog again and again; not serious wounds, but sapping her strength.

Meanwhile, Thorkil and Animir were hard-pressed. Both had taken nasty wounds, and to make matters worse, Thorkil's trog had been joined by the fourth one, who had had the sense to realize that throwing javelins at a dwarf concealed behind a troglydyte was a pretty stupid idea.

Finally, Animir managed to smash the right arm of her opponent, who reeled away, unable to fight any more. She swung around to aid Akara, still miraculously on his feet, and joined him in his attack on Ironhide. Between them they managed to bring her down. Akara collapsed, exhausted, and Animir moved to help Thorkil.

The last two trogs fought gamely, and both elf and dwarf were wounded again before the last one was felled. Looking around, Animir realized that as well as securing the entrance hall, she had captured three terrified kobolds and a wounded troglydyte.

What were they going to do with them?