Rhonda Floam’s Diaries: Hazzen’s Cave

Dollano 22, SP~4,909

Rhonda Floam

Hazzen’s Cave

My previous entry was written very late last night, or, perhaps more accurately, early this morning. We’d spent the night running and had finally found our way here to this sanctuary. I had a chance then to write, but was too exhausted to tell the whole story. I’ve now had a few hours of sleep, so I can tell the rest of the tale.

Breaking through the doors was not difficult. They were held on their hinges by little more than rust and the brittleness of old age.

We had left behind the folk from Tellin Town, and Allsassring led the rest of us (the nossring and me) through the building. He seemed to know the passageways. I’m guessing he had a talk with Donnessling or Sheshoffiss, or both, who had in turn gotten information from some ally or informant in Berimandry.

At one time, very long ago, the building must have been home to someone very wealthy. Now, though, it had fallen into disrepair with many parts beyond recognition.

Donnessling and Sheshoffiss took up the rear to defend against the constant attacks from the tall malevolence that had followed us into this place. We could see flashes of green light or white light accompanied by loud cracks as the Energy behind the lights snapped into existence. These lights were quickly followed by a grayness that dimmed the other lights and the lights of our torches.

Allsassring led us on, through hallway after hallway sometimes following stairs down, but more often following stairs up.

Suddenly, Allsassring shouted out to Donnessling that we had reached “the door,” and Donnessling soon appeared at our sides. We could hear the battle between Sheshoffiss and the gray creature behind us. Donnessling motioned to a number of the fighters and they scurried back to aid Sheshoffiss.

Donnessling was exhausted, his clothing torn in several places with gashes along his chest and side. They seemed freshly gouged from his form, but I could see that, even as I watched, they were healing themselves with a soft green light along their lengths.

The green light stopped and Donnessling winced, and drew from his pocket the purple stone that he had taken from Begkragk. I could see Allsassring looking at him with great concern, and seeming prepared to hold him up should it be necessary.

Donnessling drew a breath, closed his eyes, and raised the Eye of Zanyr in front of him. He recited the words of an ancient tongue and as he did the purple stone grew in brightness. Just as the light was reaching out to the surface of the wall at the end of the corridor, we heard a hard thud and felt the jolt of something powerful. I looked back and could see three of my nossring friends lying on the floor in pools of their own blood. Four others had surrounded Sheshoffiss who was casting forward a white light with both of his hands. The white cloud was violently mixing with a grayness that seeped into it, distorting its shape and diluting its brilliance. With a cry of outrage Sheshoffiss suddenly forced the cloud of white light to envelope its gray foe to swallow it whole, and, with an explosion that shook the walls and floors of the building around us, it hurled the tall gray creature back down the corridor.

The nossring around Sheshoffiss started to move toward the creature, but Sheshoffiss held them back. “It is only stunned for a moment or perhaps two. We must run.” He then collapsed into the arms of two of his protectors who ran back to the rest of us, with the other two backing toward us, vigilantly watching for whatever might happen at the other end of the corridor.

At that moment, we heard a different cracking sound, but this one was more mechanical. I turned to see that a door had opened in the wall revealing a passageway cut through rough stone.

Donnessling croaked to us, “Go! Safety lies down this way.” He looked at Allsassring, and without hesitation he commanded us to follow him into the darkness.

Once everyone was through, Donnessling once again raised the purple stone in his hands and softly sang another ancient chant. As the door was closing a bolt of sharp gray, like a dark silver lance, flew through the door and buried itself deep in Donnessling’s chest. He slumped and the nossring warriors near him caught him as he fell to the ground.

We ran down the stone tunnel and could hear the shrieks of the gray creature behind us and its attempts to break the door we had just come through.

A short run led us into the expanse of a domed cavern with a small lake that brought a freshness to its space.

“Hazzen’s Cave,” Allsassring told us, “We are safe in this place,” and we laid Donnessling’s body at the water’s side.

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