Rise of the Rune Lords Session 27: Hook Mountain

Hook Mountain, home of the Kreegs, was a nasty, frozen slab of granite this late in the year. Nearly two miles from summit to peak, it was a grueling climb. The ogres had not made much effort to conceal the entrance to the clanhold, a wide cavern vanishing into the mountainside. Two alert ogre guards stood at the entrance, shielding their eyes from wind and blowing snow. Nevis, Jori, and Iozua hung back while Foss led the way, Pavander tagging at his heels and Melissah not far behind, clutching her spear.

The ogres jeered when they spotted the adventurers, but Pavander was not one to tolerate this disrespect and charged, biting and clawing at anything he could reach. The badger dodged nimbly aside as clubs swept down, and Foss stepped up to engage the second ogre.

“Duck!” Iozua called, rushing to the side of the melee, where he unleashed a lightning bolt that struck both ogres, crisping one and leaving the second badly wounded. Foss quickly finished the remaining guard and they moved forward quickly to the mouth of the cave, not wanting to lose the element of surprise.

The cave entrance was lined with massive bones, but they didn't look like giant bones. Iozua frowned and identified them as blue dragon bones. “The coolest of terrible, tyrannical dragonkind,” he said.

“I'm pretty sure white dragons are the coolest,” Melissah corrected. “They breathe cold, after all.”

Nevis began dancing with excitement. “Dragons?! Gosh!”

The entrance hall ended in an alcove with a statue worthy of a giant fortress, a forty-foot-tall giant with black skin covered in fissures and cracks, like the bed of a dried river. He wore majestic armor, gilded and encrusted with gems, and gripped a towering glaive in his armored fists. His full helm bore the sneering visage of a fanged devil, and around his neck hung a familiar seven-pointed star—the Sihedron amulet, mark of the Runelords.

“This thing is everywhere we go any more,” Foss remarked. Melissah grabbed Pavander before he could pee on the statue, but Nevis raced past and began climbing toward the armor.

“I'M GONNA GET MY HANDS ON HIS JEWELS!” she shrieked, and then almost fell laughing at herself.

“How are you even going to carry that armor,” Melissah said. “It's bigger than you are.”

“Uhh . . . dammit. I'll be back for you later, big boy,” Nevis said, and patted the statue on the crotch before sliding back down.

“Giant-chaser,” Iozua remarked.

“I prefer size-queen!”

“Oh, oh, is THAT what people refer to as a size queen?! Now I know,” the wizard looked sad for a moment. “And can't un-know.”

Nevis poked her head around the corner, seeing a deep pit that emitted rank odors of decay. “Ew, butthole,” she added.

Fortunately for everyone's sanity, the next intersection was guarded. “HELP! TROUBLE!” an ogre bellowed. Melissah conjured fire in her hands and threw it at him while Pavander harried his shins. A solid blow landed on Nevis, who squawked, and then the melee was joined, Foss striking with his axes while Iozua threw a fireball over his shoulder, scorching the room. A massive creature, larger than an ogre, hurled a boulder at Foss, who just barely managed to dodge.

The fighting was vicious and bloody. Iozua cast scorching rays at the hill giant, but it kept on coming, smashing the wizard aside with its greatclub before Foss finished it off. Everyone was battered and bleeding, and they could hear the sound of running feet as more ogres ran toward the intersection from deeper within the clanhold.

“Jori, heal us, quickly,” Iozua said, and the Harrower rushed to comply. Several ogres appeared in the eastern passage, and Melissah quickly cast a spell. The ground beneath their feet cracked and a flume of boiling water erupted, filling the hall and blasting the ogres aside. Foss attacked while they were still disoriented, but more ogres continued to spill out of the cavern, forcing him back. Nevis and Iozua rained down spells into the struggling crowd.

Then Pavander dashed forward and abruptly doubled in size. On almost equal footing with the ogres, he clawed and bit while Foss hacked his way forward.

“I want to ride him!” Nevis called as Iozua's spell melted the last ogre's face clean off his skull. Once again, it was quiet.

Pavander sniffed around for something to fight, and pointed deeper into the caverns.