The battle continued. Gorfang's two blades crunched into the carapace he was fighting, and it disintegrated into a pile of discoloured and empty pieces. Lynien and Eloy were fighting defensively, unable for the moment to land a significant attack. Lynien's spidershell had spun unexpectedly fast, and she was now not behind it any more; its' hollow mandibles clacked inches from her face. This isn't where I should be... she thought worriedly; her fighting style and weapons weren't suitable for undead at all.
Cheiron struck the shell Eloy was fighting from behind, knocking off a leg and then cracking its' shell open. Dropping one of his scimitars, Gorfang unhooked the Maul of Brutality from his belt, bringing it down on the last spidershell as it prepared to bite Lynien. The mighty strike smashed the undead spider into a cloud of dust and flying fragments of chitin, and the fight was over.
Gorfang was wounded, and called out to Bog for another flask of Boom-Boom. The little humanoid looked worried, counting his remaining stock before handing one over. The orc swigged it down, feeling his injuries heal as the alcohol boosted the rest of his system. Naturally aggressive anyway, he was now on the edge of fighting drunk, although there was little difference as far as the others could tell.
Footsteps on the stairs behind them caused everyone to tense again and draw
weapons, but the descending figure was familiar - the half-orc Uruk Bad-breath,
a recent recruit to the caravan of Dagaren of Sulis. He, like Eloy, had set
out to look for the missing party, and had spotted the smoke from
Gathering themselves together, the party headed off down the corridor leading
further into the tomb. There was a curious widening about 20' down, which Cheiron
had found very useful when doing his about-face after his
charge-by attack, and opposite that was a side passage.
Eloy hung back as the rest moved down this to investigate, to guard the rear in case something came down the main corridor. The others walked down the side passage and came to a small room, 15’ wide and 10’ deep, with a battered stone table in the centre. Deep marks were gouged in it, but it looked more like a desk than an altar. Behind it, still suspended from two rusted chains, was a huge bronze gong five feet across.
The bronze gong fascinated the explorers, and they examined it very carefully for traps, magical powers, or monetary value. Clearly, ringing it was going to attract a great deal of probably hostile attention, quite likely all at once. Bearing that in mind, Gorfang hefted the Maul and struck it squarely.
Inside the fifteen-by-twenty room, the noise was shattering, and for several seconds afterwards no-one could hear anything or see straight. As their hearing did return, they became aware of Eloy shouting, firstly "What in the bloody Abyss was that?" closely followed by "Lilyx' tits! Something's coming!"
As they hastened back down the side passage, Cheiron and Lynien's sharp ears picked up the sound of running feet, probably three or four unshod pairs, and with a tread as heavy as Gorfang's.
Reaching the junction, Gorfang didn't hesitate, but swung around the corner
and charged up the passageway, bellowing a thunderous orc war cry. As he passed
Eloy, the human warrior joined him, and together the pair pounded up the passage.
As they did so, they heard two arrows zip past, loosed by Cheiron and Uruk. I hope they know what they're bloody doing thought Eloy, not fancying a shaft in the back of the head, but a scream from whatever was coming towards them reassured him - a little - of the skill of the archers.
Then the newcomers came into the dancing pool of light thrown by the lantern hooked onto Eloy's belt. They were bugbears, creatures both recognized from having fought them in the past, although unlike those disorganized and individualistic monsters, these seemed to be armed and armoured all alike. There wasn't time to ponder this, however, as the two charging groups smashed together and battle was joined. It was very brief. Gorfang and Eloy tore through the three bugbears without even breaking stride, killing them all before they could even react. As they came to a halt on the far side of the twitching bodies, they could see the corpse of another bugbear with an arrow in its' eye sprawled in the corridor a little way ahead.
Apart from oddly identical bludgeoning weapons and crude armour, the bugbears
had little of any value. Shrugging, the group followed the passage to the end.
It led into a large hall with side-passages opening off to both sides Steps
down were visible through the archways. Larger corridors went off ahead leading
to stairs up. In the centre of the room stood two enormous animal skeletons,
unmoving, but radiating a distinct sense of menace. 
Entering the room down the left-hand flight of stairs were four slim, graceful humanoids. The liquid flow of their movements was enough to mark them as elvenkind; what marked them out was their satin-black skin and ice-white hair. Although none of the party had ever seen one before, all but Cheiron had heard tales, and knew these for Fae Mhor, the Shadowbrothers, the dark elves. One was male, armed with a curved sabre; the other three were female and equipped with black maces.
Once again, Gorfang and Eloy were shoulder-to-shoulder as they charged across the hall towards the Dark Elves. At their full speed it took only seconds to cross the forty feet or so to the startled dark elves, but Cheiron the centaur was far faster and pounded past at a full charge, his lance couched. The point dipped at the crucial instant, and struck the male Fae Mhor in the thigh, tearing a vast wound and hurling the unfortunate creature into the nearest wall, down which he slid in a large smear of blood.
Lynien, disdaining a direct charge, started to lope around in a wide arc to flank their foes. Uruk advanced to level with the skeletons, drew his bow, and loosed a shaft into the battle, wounding one of the female Fae Mhor.
Gorfang and Eloy piled in now, blades flashing, and the Fae Mhor shields rang as their holders defended themselves. Out of the corner of his eye, Gorfang saw the female that wasn't engaged in combat move her slim ebon fingers very precisely. Crap, he thought, here come the spells. What actually happened was more mundane. It went dark.
Not
ordinary dark, though. With the exception of the human Eloy, all the party could
see perfectly well in the dark; but in this, Cheiron, Eloy and Gorfang were
as blind as dwarves in a sack. To Uruk and Lynien, outside the radius of the
spell, it appeared as if the far end of the hall had suddenly been filled with
a sphere of utter blackness. Lynien stopped advancing, and strung her shortbow
to join the halforc in his support fire.
Gorfang, who had been right on top of his opponent when the darkness fell, slashed savagely in the hope that she was still there, but to no avail, and a second later a blade cut into his side. Next to him, he heard a shriek and some swearing in a language he didn't speak, which seemed to indicate that Eloy had had better luck with a blind swing; an unrewarded grunt from above his head betrayed Cheiron's miss.
Outside, Lynien loosed a short dart into the globe, and winged a Fae Mhor. Then Uruk's longbow sang - and the darkness was gone! One of the female Fae Mhor was toppling backwards, an arrow sunk to the feathers in her forehead. The Darkness must have been hers, and with her death it was dispelled. Seizing the moment, Gorfang's swords flashed left and right, felling the last two Fae Mhor females. The tide was turning...
And then the two cave bear skeletons stepped down off their plinths and started to attack the companions from the back.
Lynien and Cheiron had noticed that the male Fae Mhor warrior was still alive, and struggling to unpack a potion from his belt pouch. As they watched, he quaffed it, then glared at the ruin of his leg; it had healed somewhat, but not nearly enough for him to stand. Lynien sent an arrow at him, which pinked him in the arm, and Cheiron's spear-thrust skated off his armour as the dark elf scrabbled for another healing draught.
Uruk dropped his bow and drew his sword as the huge animated skeleton loomed over him. His first blow knocked splinters off it, but not as much as he'd hoped, and a faint feeling of worry began to trouble him. This was borne out as the huge undead smacked him twice with its' bony paws, drawing blood.
Gorfang, Lynien and Cheiron all stabbed the last Fae Mhor at once, and he subsided, slain at last. Gorfang scooped up the potion he'd been about to drink and stuffed it in his pouch as he turned to meet the oncoming bear bones. Lynien also paused, to scoop up a discarded mace, having realized that blades and points were doing less damage to skeletal opponents. Thus, Eloy faced the first assault of the bear bones alone.
Slashing with his sword, he made no serious impression on it - and then one of the great paws came soaring out of nowhere. For an instant he saw it closing and then everything went black. Horrified, the others saw the tanned human fly backwards as a mighty blow crushed his skull, and fall to the stone floor with dreadful finality.
Cheiron drove his lance into the skeleton, between the bones, and then twisted
savagely. His massive strength and weight paid off, and the bear bones was flung
to the ground, lying atop one foreleg and reducing its possible attacks.
Gorfang was within reach. The orc paused for a moment. He had a healing potion. His first instinct was to slug it down and get back into the battle. However, a memory flashed into his mind, of the human warrior standing at his side and charging headlong into battle, not once but twice in the last hour. Almost as good as an orc. He bent down and forced the potion into what was probably Eloy's mouth amidst the bloody mush that was the remains of his face. The throat pulsed as the last flickers of life triggered the swallow reflex. Then the miracle of magical healing unfolded, and Eloy Brackensen opened his eyes and reached for his sword.
The bear bones pinned down by Cheiron lashed out at the centaur, wounding him, but he retaliated by kicking it with his hoof boots. The heavy metal armour crashed into the skeleton and smashed it to bits.
Gorfang, Eloy and Lynien moved over to support Uruk, but too late, as he too took a mortal wound and dropped to the ground. Eloy siezed his shoulders and dragged him clear as the other two attacked it. Mace and Maul made short work of the skeleton, as Eloy appeared to be rubbing some sort of paste into Uruk's hair. Whatever it was, it was effective, as the half-orc awoke spluttering and surprised just as the last bits of bone came to rest.
The dark elves' equipment yielded some interesting things. A slim wand caught Gorfang's eye; he fooled around with it until he managed to trigger it, and discovered that it lit up when directed at enchanted items. "Huh. Detect Magic?" he grunted and chucked it over his shoulder. Uruk picked it up and turned it over in his hands, before tucking it into his backpack.
Each of the dark elves was equipped with a tiny crossbow, designed to be used in one hand, and a case of bolts. Eloy and Lynien took one each and split the bolts, some of which the wand had shown to be magical. The male had had a bow, and some of his arrows were also enchanted; Gorfang, Uruk and Cheiron split these between them.
Four healing potions had survived, and these were parcelled out around the party to supplement the Boom-Boom, which was running a bit low.
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